There was nothing I could do now to stop Mallory. All the pieces were in place how she liked them. And I knew, without even much internal scavenging, that those were all pieces I had set in motion long ago. What Mallory was doing was simply locking my fate in place.

Still, though, I had to try and see if I could lessen the spiral somewhat.

Again, I called Lori—no response.

Then Dawn again—no response.

I even called Minjee—and again, no response.

This was bad, truly bad. Mallory had them all now, for what—I had no idea.

I had every idea. And they were all inevitably bankrupt of any decency or morality.

So, I walked down to Audrey’s apartment. Her father had bought her the nicest condo in the nicest building in the downtown area. It was his way of keeping her under his thumb while still giving her “independence.”

But of course, independence given to you is no real freedom at all. With all the control I’ve garnered, I know that any liberty you’ve got is the kind you earn—a right that’s given to you is no right at all. Nothing to be trusted. If someone can give it to you, they can take it away.

And there was this justification in my head—that if I could take away all the thoughts of these women and replace them with my own, then they were made to be taken away anyway. It was so easy for me. How could it not be right to own them like I did?

I rang the doorbell. Already, I knew stepping in there would be selling my soul to the devil, entirely. Giving myself over to the twisted, foul side of me that only knew how to corrupt and fuck and own.

And I knew it was, somehow, the most true part of me. I gave in. I didn’t want to fight anymore. Every time that I fought, it only got worse.

I just wanted what I had earned.

Mallory greeted me at the door in sparkling white lingerie. A lace bra cupping her magnificent breasts, presenting them to me in all their glory. The second I stepped through the door, she pulled me in for a tight, sizzling hot kiss. Her tiny waist felt so perfect, wrapped as it was by my strong fingers. One long leg wrapped around my thigh, pulling me in closer and closer. Her stockings sparkled around her thighs.

“I’m so happy to see you, Daddy!”

As she clapped her hands, her heels clicked fetchingly on the floor.

“Are…are you?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got so much to show you. Here…”

She started pulling me into the apartment, but I stopped her. Immediately, she moaned and slid in for another kiss.

Audrey's condo was immense. Tall ceilings. Marble floors in the hallways, wooden floors in the living room. Fine art posted on the walls, impressionist paintings of parks and birds everywhere. There was a long stairway in the middle of the living room that led up into what appeared to be some sort of screening room. I could see, down the hallway, the immense bedroom and the enormous bed inside.

“Mmm,” Mallory's fingers trailed along my face. “Master is so horny, already, hmm? Should I suck my beautiful Big Brother off before I show him his gift?”

Fuck. The way she so effortlessly and naturally switched between calling me her Master, her Daddy, and her Big Brother—the way it all made such perfect sense to her that I was her Male, her everything-that-was-masculine, got me worked up in a hurry.

“No,” I shook my head. “I just…what did you do, Mallory?”

“I could tell you.” She tugged my hand. “Or I can show you. It’s quicker that way.”

Resigned to my doom, I followed her further in.

What I saw there, I certainly wasn’t expecting.

Every woman I had lusted after over the past several days—or weeks, even. Months. They were all there. Deep in trance, fingering their cunts beautifully.

Lori.

Dawn.

Minjee.

Audrey.

And…Celise?

Oh fuck.

All of them were on their knees, and had headphones on. A small recorder in one hand, the other hand rubbing intently on their individual clits. Lori and Dawn were completely naked—no doubt some signifier to Mallory of their heightened status for being my slaves before the others. Celise wore the same suit she had on the day before, though it was torn in places. I thought, perhaps, that there must have been some sort of struggle. Mallory maybe needing to “encourage” my ownership on the detective.

Minjee was wearing brief, normal underwear. White panties, a white bra. On a lesser body, it might have looked plain. On her, it looked mouthwatering.

Audrey's incredible, chestnut-haired frame was contained only in a slender silk nighty. Purple. She had heels on, too. Had she been dressed like that before, or had Mallory insisted she wear it before I arrived? Either way was perfectly hot.

Each of the girls whispered softly in unison. I leaned forward, next to Audrey's beautiful half-naked body, trying to make out what it was.

“Victor is always right.” And then a slight pause, listening. “I trust Victor completely.” Another pause, and so on. “Victor is my Master. Victor is my Daddy. Victor is the perfect Man. Obeying Victor is pleasure.” All orders I had heard before—given directly to Mallory. There were fifteen or twenty other sentences like this, all shades of my four commandments. Her work was good, thorough—if a bit sloppy and circular. And toward the end of the chain, she had added some other, newer thoughts:

“I’ll think actively on how to better please Master. I’ll pay attention and suggest new ways to bring him pleasure. A good slave is an intelligent slave.”

That might just help out Dawn with her little bimbo-ized problem. Maybe. If it didn’t, I wasn’t sure I cared. And then, there were other orders—and these really caught my ear:

“Mallory is my perfect Big Sister. She’s my perfect Mommy. I’ll do anything she says. She always knows what Victor wants. I know she’s a better slave than I am. Being a good slave is all that’s important to me. Mallory knows just how to obey Victor perfectly.”

Fuck, fuck, and fuck again. That was…was…just so brilliantly fucking hot.

“You’re brainwashing them with your voice.”

Mallory nodded, sliding her head on my shoulder. She sighed there, happily, as if we were watching puppies play in a park.

Or seeing our daughters do something grown up for the first time—going to prom or driving off to college.

“Our little girls are going to be so perfect for you, Daddy. I made sure of it. I paid attention. I thought of all the ways I’m your perfect, loving slave, and made sure they lived up to every last command I knew I lived for.”

This was too much. I leaned into her loving, slave body, sliding my hands into her hair. I had to look away from the collection of slaves, but instead Mallory took up my gaze.s

“I feel so guilty, Mallory.”

“For what?” She was genuinely confused. Like I had asked her how I didn’t understand why water was wet.

“For all of this. For making you this way. For making you make them this way.”

I said this already knowing how she would react. I knew what she would say in response.

When all the people in your life have programmed responses that you created, and all you can do is respond to the people around you—have you made yourself as programmed as they are?

I didn’t care. I wanted to hear what I knew she would say.

“It’s perfect for you to own them, Master. Look at you.” Her eyes glowed with hot pleasure, sliding up and down my body. She pushed my jacket off, and it slid down to the ground behind me. She unbuckled my pants, pushing them down, her fingers once again wrapping around my cock where she knew they belonged. “I need you. I’ve never seen a more perfect man, Daddy. They belong to you.” She turned now, stroking my cock with heated urgency. “They all belong to you. Every last girl. It’s right that they do. You’ve earned them. You deserve them. And they need you, Daddy.” Her voice became a plaintive, sexy whine. “They need their Daddy. They need their Big Brother’s cock. You’re so perfect. So, so perfect. Please don’t say you feel bad about it. Take it back, Daddy, please? We need you in charge of us. We need it, Master.”

“I…” Slowly, I nodded, shuddering as her strokes became slow and easy again. “You’re right. I misspoke, that’s all. I deserve this.” I straightened up, kissing her softly. “I deserve you.”

Her breasts crushed against me. “They’ll be out of it for…another good fifteen minutes or so…”

Her tall, sexy high-heeled toe made a little circle in the ground. This total beauty suddenly was shy, unsure, and completely needy.

“Did I do it right, Master?” A little tear formed at one eye, threatening her perfect make-up. “I thought you would love it…I thought…” she gulped. “I thought you would love me…better than Audrey. I know she’s super pretty, but I am too, and she would never do this for you, so I thought…I thought…” her voice became tiny, barely a whisper. “I thought we could be together forever if I could just show you how badly I wanted you to be my Daddy.”

There is only so much a man can take. I pushed Mallory down to the ground and ripped off her panties.

She was my love. My everything. She was absolutely the most perfect woman in the world. I needed her. Needed her body to feel mine, needed to fill her up.

My cock drove into her cunt, and I looked directly into her beautiful eyes as we made love—I feel—for the first time ever. My strokes were slow but steady, hands running up and down her delicate white lingerie. Her body was so tight, so perfectly formed. My lips brushed against her neck, up and down her breasts, all along her shoulders and chin.

And all the while, her voice was plaintive, orgasmic, urging me on.

“Oh yes, Master, please…please, please, do it, Daddy! Give me your babies n-now…now, please!”

She was making me lose all control, even though I had as much as I did because of her.

“I love you,” I whispered in her ear. “You above all others. You first. Always. Always.”
“Oh Master,” she moaned. “I love you! I love you!”

You can make the argument that I made her feel all those emotions. That she was only, in some ways, parroting what I had commanded her to. In that moment, I can tell you—it didn’t matter. She said what she truly felt. She expressed what she was actually feeling. And if there was some feeling behind the actual one, something that never came to the surface, that was not ever realized in any form—conscious or subconscious—doesn’t that make it more of a fantasy that what I had created?

I think so.

Her legs locked around me, her hips rising to meet every thrust. Her hands gripped my shoulders, nails digging in, holding me against her. She was hot and slick and clenching around me, her whole body devoted to my pleasure.

“Cum for me, Daddy,” she begged. “Please, please, cum for me.”

I felt it building, that hot pressure at the base of my cock. And through the haze of it, one clear thought remained. Not inside her. Not now. I wanted her here. Present. Awake. Mine, but aware of it.

I pulled out at the last second and rose up over her, stroking myself hard and fast. My cum sprayed across her belly in thick ropes, splashing over her navel and up between her breasts, pooling in the dip of her stomach.

She looked down at herself, panting, and smiled.

“You kept me here,” she said softly. “You wanted me to see you. To feel it.”

“Yes.”

“That’s so romantic, Master.” She giggled, dragging one finger through the mess without tasting it, painting a slow circle around her navel. “Look at me. Marked. Claimed.”

I collapsed beside her, pulling her close, my hand splayed over her sticky stomach.

“Mine,” I said.

She reached to slide her hands through the cum, probably to lick it up, and I swatted her hand away.

“Not now.”

She pouted, but said, “Of course, Master.”