I fucked Mallory to exhaustion.

Naked, I was in the kitchen. My form had gotten rather ripped over the past week. Not all of it could be attributed purely to the nonstop exercise I was getting from my cycle of women, could it? And how was I  fueling all this cum? I didn't feel like I had been eating more...

Was I getting stronger? My body changing to match the alpha vibes my cum instilled in women?

The door knocked. Frantic.

Jesus. Aren't I done with people knocking at my fucking door yet?

It was Lori. Still wearing the tight, tiny outfit from today. Tits on display. Legs long and shiny and perfect. High heels showing her off. She had been crying. At the end of the day at work, I had put off fucking her once more, too wrapped up with what Mallory might have wanted. It seems like it was one time too many.

“I—I need to talk to you.” She put her hands on the door, as if she thought I meant to close it on her. “I know you said to go home, but I—b-but I...I...you also said we would fuck, and I wasn't sure if that meant I should come to you, and—a-and...”

“Shh, baby girl.”

I really, truly, had not been taking care of her well. I had a lot to learn about being a Master. I took her into my arms, her body so tiny and slender, and kissed the top of her head.

Soon, we were sitting next to one another in the living room, where Mallory had begged me not even three hours before to be my eternal fuckslave.

Lori frowned, crossing her arms. “I know…I feel like I know I’m not supposed to think about this, which is weird enough, but like, just a week ago, none of this was true. I wasn’t…I mean…”

She put her hands on her head. “I wasn’t in love with you, you know? And neither was Mallory. And Dawn…Dawn! Fuck, look at her just today! What happened to her? She’s some…some bimbo and you and Mallory are acting like it’s no big deal when it is. It is a big deal. And there was that Asian girl just trying to hide and stalk you, another beautiful girl by the way, who you seem to collect like fucking flies on molasses, and—and…fuck, like a harem…and…”

As she spoke, her hands had drifted up around her tits, squeezing them intently. She didn’t know it, but everything she complained about I had also hard-wired to turn her on. There was obviously some disconnect, though—something I had missed, something essential that she needed to understand before this was all truly okay.

Just a few days ago I would have made her suck my cock until she felt good about the entire situation.

Hell, just a few days ago, I did make her suck my cock until she felt good about the entire situation.

Now it was different.

What the fuck is up with morality anyway? It’s like some terrible sobriety, only coming around when your body magically gets tired of the beautiful high you had been riding. A part of me knew that if I had my druthers, I’d forget about whether this was good or evil right away. I’d simply take Lori into the bedroom with Mallory, put her on her knees, and have her obediently suckle on my cock until everything that was happening not only was unobjectionable, but desirable.

I had just done that with Mallory, after all.

If I could do that, if I was the one man in three and a half billion who could make that happen, why shouldn’t I?

“Lori…”

“No. Don’t…don’t talk. Every time you talk, it gets all…all twisted together, somehow. I can’t explain it.”

“Trust me, babe.”

It was all I had to say. Three words. Each of them localized to the exact pleasure center of her brain. Softly, her lips parted. A moan escaped.

Do you see how difficult it is to behave? When it’s just that simple? Three words. That’s all. That’s how thin a barrier I had created for myself to get away with whatever misbehaving I wanted to do in front of Lori.

“T-trust…you.”

“You love me, don’t you babe?”

Her big, beautiful green eyes became wide and low. “Y-yes, Master.”

“And you trust me. I know that.”

“Yes, Master. Of course I do. It’s j-just that—”

“And you want Minjee to fuck me. Don’t you?”

“Well, yes, of course I do. Who wouldn’t? B-but—”

“Then you don’t need to be confused by anything at all. You trust me. You love me. Minjee wants to fuck me. You want her to fuck me. It’s all normal as anything, babe.”

She had been mouthing my words after I said them. Trust you. Love you. Wants to fuck you.

“Y-yes, Master.”

Before, I would have walked away feeling in control. Better about myself. But now I felt impossibly dirty. Impossible to clean. I could easily deal with this in a responsible, adult way. But the fundamental problem was that I just didn't want to, anymore.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Bend over, now. Onto the coffee table there. Do it, like a good slave.”

“But I...”

She was already pushing herself on top of the table. “I had so many questions...I...”

“Shut up.”

And she did. I was hard, and her cunt was wet. I stripped off her panties and pulled her shirt up. Already naked, I entered her totally bare, holstering myself into her virgin-tight young cunt with ease.

The first thrust shoved the coffee table forward six inches across the carpet. A paperback slid off the edge and slapped the floor. A stack of coasters went with it, scattering, one of them rolling on its rim until it wobbled flat under the couch.

I gripped her hips and pulled her back onto me and drove in again. Her whole body jolted. Her palms slipped on the tabletop and she caught herself on her forearms, elbows skidding, the wood squeaking beneath her sweat. My remote control bounced off and cracked open on the carpet, batteries spitting out in two directions.

She was so small. That was the thing that kept hitting me harder than the sex itself. My hands nearly wrapped her waist twice over, and every time I yanked her back I lifted her feet clean off the floor. Her legs—decorated in sexy high heels, as always, like all my girls now—wrapped backwards around my thighs and ass. Her heels dragged and kicked and one of them tore loose, tumbling under the table. I let it go. I hauled her back by the hips and slammed forward and the table’s legs stuttered again, chewing lines into the carpet, until the whole thing hit the base of the couch and stopped dead.

Then I really went to work on her.

She had nothing to brace against anymore. Every stroke bounced her forward into the couch cushions and every pull dragged her back down onto me. Her hands scrabbled and found the armrest and clamped there, knuckles white, her nails digging little crescents into the fabric. Her spine curved. Her hair, that soft dark-blonde spill of it, whipped around and stuck to her wet cheeks and neck.

I put my thumb against the base of her skull and pressed her face down into the cushion. She could breathe.

Barely.

Fucking cunt.

Fucking doubting me. I rule her fucking life. What they fuck makes her think she can get away with that?

It would have been easy, probably, to make the fucking last for a long time. Give her a good show of it. But she would cum on command, and so that meant the only really important orgasm was mine and mine alone. And as soon as I exploded in her, I would make her believe absolutely that the only time she had ever had a sexual thought in her life was because of me.

Why not be a God? It felt fucking good.

“Oh fuck!” she moaned. “Oh god, Master. M-Master. B-Big Bro! It's so good. It's s-so so good!”

I knew it was. I had trained her to love it.  I fucked her. Furious and hard. Spitefully, even. How dare she ask me questions. How dare she even think of it?

The table creaked under the assault. Lori’s tiny body was nothing but a vessel for my pleasure, her tight cunt clenching around me like it was made for this—because it was. I’d seen to that. Her tits bounced with every thrust, those perky little mounds jiggling against the tabletop, her nipples hard and begging for my teeth. I leaned forward and bit down on one, just hard enough to make her gasp, her back arching as she pushed her ass back into me.

“You’re just a pair of tits on a skinny body,” I growled, my voice rough with dominance. “That’s all you are. A hot little fucktoy for me to use whenever I want.”

She whimpered, her fingers clawing at the couch. “Y-yes, Master. I’m just your toy. Use me. Please.”

I didn’t need her permission. I didn’t need anything from her except her obedience. And she was giving it to me, her body trembling as I fucked her harder, my cock slamming into her with no mercy. Her pussy was dripping, her arousal coating my shaft, making every thrust slick and perfect.

My orgasm was not quite as impressive as those earlier in the night. Mallory had taken most of my quality loads. But still, my spunk sprayed into Lori's quivering canal, her body shaking with urgent, fierce bliss as she called out my title again and again.

And instantly, her body still calming from all that bliss, she was tranced as deeply as she had ever been.

My mind was full of possibility. I may have just cum, but my desire was as strong as it had ever been. In a strange way, I knew I was riding that high of corruption again, but I didn't care. I only wanted to follow the rabbit hole down.

If I could deepen Mallory's convictions by screwing with her deepest held kinks and thoughts about family, about doing what strong men told her to do, then I could probably do it with Lori too. Only, Lori's real kink had never been family or sex. It had been smoking pot.

I took her face in my hands.

“You're my slave,” I told her. “You're my little sister. My daughter.”

“I'm your slave,” she nodded. “Your little sister. Your daughter.”

“I'm your Master. Your Big Bro. Your Daddy.”

“You're my Master. My Big Bro. My Daddy.”

“I'm the Man. And the Man always knows what's best.”

“You're the Man. And the Man always knows what's best.”

“You're not addicted to weed.”

“I'm not addicted to weed.”

“But you are an addict.”

“I...I am an addict.”

“You're addicted to my cock.”

“I'm addicted to your cock.”

“You need to fuck it. Suck it. Taste my cum.”

“I need to fuck it, suck it, and taste your cum.”

“You're an addict, and you don't care.”

“I'm an addict, and I don't care.”

“You don't have any of the power, and you don't care.”

“I don't have any of the power, and I don't care.”

“You're addicted to my cock.”

“I'm addicted to your cock.”

Then repetitions until the trance began to fade. I was so heady with arousal, still, that I didn't have time to think all the way through what I had done. I walked away, back into the kitchen. I wanted to talk to Mallory. I wanted her to tell me that it was okay what I had just done. I knew it wasn't, but I wanted it to be.

When I finally decided to wake Mallory up and have her assuage my guilt, Lori was there in the doorway. She had followed after me on her hands and knees. Hearing me pace on the kitchen floor, perhaps.

“Can I...” she saw my cock, mostly hard again. “Can I suck it before I fall asleep? Just...just one good hit, please?”

Her naked body was shivering with hot sweat. Every muscle defined, her tits so perky, the nipples fully erect in the dim light.

Of course I let her suck me. I was a good drug dealer. Had to keep her coming back around for more.