Hi so I'm new to Ribbit (made this account just to post this) but I'm always hearing about these threads and thought I'd share my own weird story. I mean it when I say weird, so buckle up. I'm still not exactly sure how to process all of this, it's just a whirlwind I wasn't really ready for, like most whirlwinds I guess. So my girlfriend (23F) and I (22F) have been together for about six months and we had the crazy idea to plan a trip to Europe during our respective gap years. They just so happened to line up and I was planning on travelling, so I shyly asked if she wanted to join me and to my pleasant surprise she was all for it. My girlfriend, let's call her Jess, was particularly excited to see all the shows as she's something of a thespian. We've been in London for the past weekend catching a few west end musicals and rapidly running out of cash with the extortionate price of everything here. So here comes Monday morning and we're both feeling a little spent, figuratively and fucking literally, so decide to have a more casual time of it compared to the extravagance of our weekend. We hop around local bars (pubs) and cafes, walk around the huge park nearby, etc etc etc. It starts to get dark and I have the bright idea of seeing a show but something more lowkey, like if a band's playing or maybe a comedian y'know? Nothing seedy, though maybe Jess would have been down for that anyway. I'm starting to wonder if there's anything Jess isn't down for. 

 

You know this isn't going to end great, dear ribbiter, or I wouldn't be posting to this sub. I think I just need some random strangers from the internet to tell me I'm being paranoid, delusional, maybe clingy. We were strolling, her on my arm like the charming lass I am (if one more person calls me the 'man' of the relationship I'm going to throw hands), and I noticed the sign outside a nearby venue for a live hypnosis show starting in roughly half an hour from then. With a giggle, Jess agreed and we went in and got settled with a few drinks. It was a nice old looking place, everything in England is so fucking old! Lots of castles and history and stuff we just don't seem to have back home, it's kinda fun even if they can be sliiightly underwhelming to actually visit if I'm being super honest. It was a dazzling, eye catching advertisement that led me astray I tell you. In glittering text it read: "For one night only - The Angelic Miss Maxine!" I have a lot of dumb ideas about fate and happenstance that make me depressingly vulnerable to this kind of FOMO marketing. One night only? Sign me up! I'm such a dumbass. 

 

Sorry for the lengthy preamble, this is where things start to get interesting. Hypnosis! They usually tack it on to the end of a stage magician's show or whatever, I've seen a few where they make the hapless volunteer bark like a dog or pretend they're a chicken and I've naturally always been very sceptical of just how 'real' this whole shtick is. Like I'm not one of those wackos who assume some broke ass performer doing a show at a dingy shitheap like this is actually hiring paid actors to act as audience plants, unless Jess has something she needs to tell me, but I have to assume the social pressure just makes them go along with it. Or I did until, as you probably guessed already, my girlfriend got selected to go up and be dazzled by that pretty lady in the sequinned dress. I cannot stress how fucking weird and inappropriate this woman was, it was all business as usual at first. A swinging watch and gentle words, my Jess slumping in the foldout chairs alongside the other two members called up. This Maxine woman was a little overly familiar even from the get go looking back, like her sense of boundaries was just a little warped. It's arguably innocuous, I just didn't love the way her fingers ran through my girlfriend's hair or stroked down her back... it was just like how I'd touch her, you know???

 

I don't mean to come across as possessive or controlling, but I was certainly a little weirded out by that stuff. That was nothing though, it was only after the snapping of her fingers and those three rolling heads that I started to realise what sort of club we'd cluelessly stumbled into. I'm not going to say that it's a swingers bar but I'm not saying it's not, either. It's exactly the sort of seedy I was hoping to steer clear of, curse that dazzling sign that led me astray in its classy allure. I'm going to try and describe this in a way that doesn't feel like I'm telling strangers about something wholly indecent involving the love of my life, but I seriously need someone to tell me I'm not crazy (or to confirm that I am) and this is hardly a matter I can discuss with friends or family IRL. The hypnotist woman stands behind Jess holding her head up with a hand placed tenderly under her chin. That gentle touch made me squirm in my chair, but I didn't want to be a spoilsport especially given I dragged us in there. The hypnotist smiled and winked at the audience, like she was sharing a secret with us even if I found myself alarming lost at that moment. The woman whispered to my girlfriend, occasionally snapping her fingers like she was cementing the instructions, Jess buckling with every snap. By the last few finger snaps she was making noise, too, but that's all I'm going to say. A few seconds later, the hypnotist lady decided to stop depriving us of context, wanting to give a good show she began to explain to Jess (and us) what she was about to feel and how she was about to act. I'm still anticipating the chicken routine at this point, because I'm slow on the fucking uptake apparently. I had to wonder what all that whispering was about if she hadn't actually given the instructions yet, but Jess tells me it was asking for consent which does make sense given what comes next but also... huh??? That sure isn't what it looked like to me, the amount of talking and the firm, commanding snaps more looked like she was being told to be okay with it rather than asked. This is where I might be crazy, readers, but the next part is where I assuredly fucked up.

 

I'm nursing my cola like nothing's wrong as the performer gives a tame speech about how she's tying string around each of Jess's wrists, how the string is attached to balloons full of helium that will slowly pull those wrists up into the air. I think I've seen a similar act before but with just one arm, they have it hang there in the air for a while and the subject is none the wiser even after being lifted out of trance. I'm more than ready to have some good ammunition to tease Jess with later and so I get ready to enjoy the show, but when my girlfriend's arms began to raise they did so with fingers curling into her shirt. We were dressed pretty casually after our past weekend of exhausting our fancier wardrobe, so she's just wearing this longsleeve grey top and starts lifting it up over her belly on autopilot. I'm fucking horrified at this point, naturally, but when Maxine winks at the crowd and plays innocent like this isn't part of the damn show the entire audience erupts into playful laughter. As Jess slowly exposes herself on stage, revealing inch after inch of skin to these strangers in the crowd, Miss Maxine primes the other two participants for the same humiliating display. All three are women of course, something I'm beginning to think is no coincidence even if my bisexual ass wouldn't mind some tight pecs either. I don't think I could've enjoyed them in the oppressive atmosphere of that room, Jess's chest dropping out with a heavy bounce as her black bralette protected what was left of her modesty. I'm not a prude, but come on. 

 

That obnoxious British voice filled the silence once the laughter finally subsided. I remember thinking: What the hell is so fucking funny? I'm even a bit pissed off just reliving this in my writing, please don't take this post down for my poor manners. Maxine began to ask the audience what they wanted to see next and my heart SANK. Jess and the other two women had their arms all the way up in the air now, straightened out, their tops resting in a crumpled mess over their exposed chests. None of them went braless, but in the end that only worked in service of the show. A kinky, hypnotic strip tease I'm supposed to believe was fully consensual even now. Jess tells me it was, assures me she was just feeling bold and swept up in it all, that she's always had a bit of a wild streak like that. Has she? I remember being unable to convince her to come skinny dipping with us only months ago. Whenever I try to talk about it with her, she just shuts it down with this bored look on her face. Not quite bored, it's hard to place. Just sort of dull and uninterested, I see the shift and know I'm not talking to the same Jess who excitedly engages in my passions. It's like I'm talking to the Jess who was up on that stage, 'gifting' her bra to someone on the front row when that snap rang out and beckoned her into action. She was stood on the edge of the stage, literally drooling onto her naked chest while holding hands with the girls either side of her in the same position. Jess wouldn't do that.

 

So that's where I'm at, Ribbit. We're in the hotel right now and it's a little tense because apparently I 'just won't drop it' but how could I? Today I fucked up by taking Jess to a hypnosis show where she lived out some kind of exhibitionist fantasy I'm told she's always had. If I believed her, I think I'd be okay with this to be honest, even if I'd be personally uncomfortable dating someone happy to hand her used underwear to strangers... oh god I forgot to mention the panties went too, but at least she didn't have to expose herself for that one. I just can't shake the feeling, as much a conspiracy theory as it seems to actually type into words, that Maxine coerced her into doing something I really believe she wouldn't have. And... that my girlfriend is still under that woman's influence now. I'm expecting this post to either get no attention at all, have everyone telling me it's fake, or get a wave of comments calling me delusional or telling me to break up with her. Sorry, I'm asking for advice and then being negative! Please be kind to me, I'm feeling pretty vulnerable atm. Thanks for reading, internet folks.

 

Update: Sorry I haven't gotten around to reading comments yet but I see there are quite a few more than I had been expecting. I'm not quite so in the mood to speak Ribbit today, if I'm honest. I probably have bigger priorities right now than updating this post but writing the main bulk really helped me sort my thoughts out and again I feel like I just need people to agree with me that this entire situation is INCREDIBLY FUCKING WEIRD!

 

This is a day after the original post in case you're reading from the future and I haven't deleted this entire thing by then. There's actually another reason why I'm wasting my time typing all of this out into Ribbit right now and it does make me sound crazy again so take it as you will. I want this to be documented somewhere just in case anything happens, like I'm talking disappearance or something. I want to state for the record now that me and Jess both intend to return home from our trip, so if any authorities find this please pay heed to that! 

 

Delusional ramblings aside, let me actually update you on what happened. You won't believe my stupidity, dear internet, but TIFU again by taking my girlfriend to the same hypnosis show. I know what you're probably thinking, that it was 'for one night only' but I guess they say that every fucking night! I had actually assumed it to be true which is perhaps why I was so relenting with Jess this morning when she became strangely insistent that we attend the show again tonight. I was obviously dumbstruck, still processing the events of the night before after having written my little post about it all and left it to fester. The entire morning was bizarre, I felt like I had walked into some twilight zone alternate reality to the life I had been living up till now, but that was NOTHING compared to the evening I just had. 

 

I'm sitting alone in the hotel room as I write this, genuinely wondering if I just got dumped or if I need to call the police out of concern for my girlfriend's freedom. We attended tonight's show, it was at a different venue and yet somehow Jess knew exactly where to go. She led me there with a pep in her step, a lilting tone to her voice that betrayed how unnaturally eager she had become. The girl was practically humming and skipping on our way to Maxine's lewd show, somewhere along the way I managed to convince myself that she was just excited to have discovered a free natured side of herself. Little did I know she was planning on volunteering again, though I really should have in hindsight.

 

When Jess stood up to head to the front I genuinely considered grabbing her hand and pleading with her to sit down and let somebody else take her place this time. Again, I felt it wasn't my place to be so controlling, that's not the sort of partner I want to be. She skips up to reunite with Miss Maxine, except at this venue she's going by 'Mistress Angel'. It's definitely the same woman, though, same dulcet tones I wish would leave my memory. I can't get my head around why Jess was so eager, when I first proposed we see the show yesterday she was even a little reluctant but tried her best. It was the complete opposite tonight, I was just appeasing her thinking we wouldn't find a repeat showing that I now sat alone in, surrounded by a crowd that made me feel wholly other. A part of me felt that maybe it was a good thing that we came a second time, that I could come into it with a fresh mindset and lay my paranoid worries to rest. I knew, of course, that this was the first time I was definitely deluding myself for real. Jess sat herself down on the foldout chair and beamed up at Mistress Angel, who praised her for coming back like it was something they had arranged ahead of time. I have Jess's jacket here, she left it at her seat in the audience and never picked it back up. Her phone was in the pocket and I found multiple text notifications, it turns out Maxine had coaxed her number out of her during the aftermath of the first show. 

 

I'm either witness to the most bizarrely exhibitionistic and extravagant affair of all time, brought on spontaneously from a single night of contact in a foreign country... or this hypnotist lady has done something deeply disturbing to my girlfriend's mind. She had the three women on the stage compete this time, a game of chicken in which the one who gave the most titillating, most revealing show to the lucky audience would be awarded the chance to speak with Angel backstage at the end of the show. I really didn't like that, I hated myself for it but I began to lose faith in my girlfriend the moment the opportunity was brought up. She just seemed SO determined to win that prize, like she'd do anything. And she did. She did everything that was asked of her and more, I couldn't bear to watch and yet I couldn't quite bring myself to look away. I felt that if anybody in that wretched audience SHOULD be seeing these things, it was me and me alone. Jess removed articles of clothing like it was just some game, once again gifting out underwear. I knew then that she wasn't simply experimenting with her free spirit or whatever bullshit she told me that Angel probably fed her anyway. I knew this, because tonight she gave away the lingerie I gifted her for out most recent anniversary. Even after everything that's happened over the last two days, I know in my heart of hearts that she's not that cruel. 

 

At this point you're probably writing this story off as fake (believe me, I wish) or judging me pretty heavily for sitting there slack jawed, doing absolutely nothing. I'm judging myself enough so I don't need any assistance there, I just didn't know what I could do anymore, what I was allowed to do as her girlfriend in this situation. So I just watched, passively I watched, as she proved just how much she needed to win. She proved, definitively, that she was the biggest slut in that entire room. The same girl who has to wear a one piece bathing suit in the pool presenting wet and sticky fingers to the crowd after Angel told her to show how wet she is after all the attention. The worst part is that I had gotten wet too, though I'm definitely oversharing on here now aren't I? Are there NSFW guidelines on here that means this post is going to be taken down for that? So be it, I'll go down with the ship, captain fucking clueless over here. 

 

I've hinted at where this is going rather liberally but here's the truly insane and heart wrenching part. Jess, completely dazed and acting like the slut I know she isn't, leaves at the end of the show with her arm around Angel's shoulder for support. I watched her disappear into the backroom thinking I was gonna have to spend the next fifteen minutes fretting over whether or not my girlfriend is cheating on me before having a long and awkward talk in the hotel room. That didn't happen. 15 minutes later and Jess still hadn't left the venue, I was kicked out due to closing and waiting out in the cold with her jacket over my arm. An hour later, Jess was still inside. Three hours, at this point I was just... what do you even do in that situation? It'd have been justified to call the police, right? I called her in a panic only to hear the jingle coming from her jacket, confusion giving way to this agonising, gnawing belief that this Angel woman was like... brainwashing my girlfriend.

 

I know, I know. Even typing it I can see how much it looks like I'm the girlfriend left in the wind coping as hard as she can, coming up with any excuse for Jess to avoid admitting that it's over between us. I walked back to the hotel room after another hour and don't think I'll be getting a wink of sleep until she's back. She will be back, right? If not I'm getting the cops involved, I don't care if I seem crazy. Coercion, threats, blackmail... all real things that DO happen. Maybe Jess didn't feel safe and felt she had to stay. It doesn't match up with that soul crushing giddiness of hers from beginning to end of tonight's show, but I'm trying to be pragmatic. 

 

Is hypnosis like what I'm describing possible? Please let me know your thoughts, I've a feeling it's going to be a long night. 

 

Update 2: I think I get it now. 

 

Another day has passed, I'm not in the hotel room this time. I'm walking. I'm thinking. I remembered that this thread existed and I read a lot of your comments. They weren't very insightful, especially the ones badmouthing my girlfriend. I don't know what Ribbit Gold is but you can keep it, I think I've found something better. Some actual understanding, some meaning, in all of these confusing events that have transpired over the last few days. Let me start from this morning. I was so relieved to find Jess in bed with me when I woke up, you have no idea. The girl snuggled up to me like nothing was wrong and so I indulged in the fantasy of everything having returned to the way it was. It hadn't of course, Jess was even more determined to visit Angel's show this time and I sort of knew immediately that nothing I could say would have the power to stop her. I don't have the same sway on my girlfriend as Mistress Angel, you see. So I had the choice of getting upset and letting her go alone, or being there again and hoping I could have the will to reach out and stop her this time. I didn't. Thank god I didn't, or I wouldn't have gained a new understanding. I wouldn't be here walking, thinking. 

 

She didn't just raise her hand this time like I thought she would, my hands unmoving in my lap as though giving that persuasive woman passive permission to steal my girlfriend for another night. No, this time Jess raised my arm along with her. We were both called up, much to my surprise... and horror. I felt this was a good opportunity, somehow, though looking back I have no idea why I would think that. What was I expecting to do? I certainly wasn't expecting to learn, my mistake. 

 

Angel's voice really lives up to her name up close, it's like cake frosting, delectable and sweet and fluffy. The woman seemed to sense my animosity and I wondered if she knew who I was, if Jess had told her. I wondered if they'd planned this, if this was the moment in which I was going to lose my free will. A part of me wanted to challenge her, while another part of me welcomed it. Falling asleep in the hotel bed alone was horrible, so you'll excuse my weakness.

 

We were supposed to be hypnotised at the same time, only two volunteers on this night with our chairs turned sideways to face one another. Jess had her hands on my knees and Angel stood behind me, filling my head with enough words to make it spin. I was told to just focus on my girlfriend, so I did. Even though we'd still been together most of the three strange days, I realised I had started to miss her. I yearned for those lips that caught my attention so strongly in that moment, lusted over her body, needing a chance to prove to this voyeuristic bunch of pricks that she was mine and not theirs. Forced to sit and watch like the rest of them over the past two nights, it made me fucking ill. She's my girlfriend, they need to know. That's how I felt in that moment, possessive and prideful and unconcerned with any voices in the back of my head urging me back to better senses. 

 

When Angel's whispers instructed me to kiss my girlfriend I did so. Only then did it occur to me that despite all these mighty words and thoughts of mine, I had obediently and patiently waited for her permission before kissing Jess. I was only kissing my girlfriend because Mistress Angel allowed it. In fact, she ordered it, I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to. So, was Jess mine? Not really, but her lips were so soft and sweet and obliterating that I couldn't find the strength to care. Angel's snap dropped me half way through the kiss and Jess held my head up in her hands, kissing me only for as long as Mistress Angel permitted.

 

Then came the void, the interstice, a space between that was both real and figurative. We sat in our respective chairs, lips glossy and bodies still as stone. No, we were water, ever flowing and changeable. We only appeared still. The both of us were laminar. We were constant and streamlined, Angel had removed the turbulence from our lives with smug, dripping words that I no longer remember. Do I need to remember? Do I need my girlfriend's tongue to be exclusively mine? Do I need to be so strong willed and opinionated about each and every stupid little detail in my life? Do I need to care who sees my tits in a room crowded with perverted, drunken strangers? Who sees my lust, raw and unrefined like a rough gemstone in need of processing. I wanted Angel to process me, so badly that I almost believed the want came from within. 

 

Her snaps came more frequently and I grew bolder. Her consent speech was a roundabout conversation that sent me loopy, so mentally exhausted by her salad of words that I'd agree to anything just to make her stop confusing me. I don't like headaches, I like easy. Obeying was easy, natural, so much so that it almost scared me when I began repeating the same uncharacteristic actions I had seen in Jess in days prior. With my girlfriend's gentle encouragement I became a whore for the crowd and they cheered. Some jeered. Most leered. A hand slipped around my waist and began to touch me slowly, stroking perfect fingertips over my bare tummy and teasing the hem of my denim shorts. I giggled so easily, resting my head back onto her shoulder and forgetting that anybody else existed in the room. It was just like me and my girlfriend were playing in the hotel, alone, except her touch felt more electric than ever before. Mocking gasps filled the room and yet eluded me entirely as that perfect fucking touch descended into my shorts and gave me the finger-fucking of my life. As I writhed and moaned and gasped and buckled against fingers that felt better than any others in the world, hands seized mine and squeezed them gently. As though grounded by the touch I slowly returned to the room, right on the edge of orgasm I opened my eyes to see Jess smiling so proudly she could light up a room as sleazy as that one. 

 

I realised that it had been Angel fucking me the entire time and not my girlfriend. Jess wanted to show me all this time just how wonderful that touch was, how much better it felt to be under that strange and exotic power. As I considered the surreal nature of it all, I came hard against Mistress Angel's touch and squeezed those hands in mine as hard as I could. The audience went wild with whistles and claps and I felt strangely proud of myself, like I had finally accomplished something in my life by putting on a good show here. It felt so, so good, and yet all I had to do was what I was told to. 

 

When she let me go, brought us up from those depths of trance I already yearned to return to, I realised with some disappointment that I was in charge of making my own decisions again. Those never led anywhere good, never reached the heights I had attained tonight. I felt slick and dirty between my legs but I felt like I'd found some semblance of purpose in that annihilating hour. I no longer liked the idea of possessing my own ego nearly as much as I'd thought. 

 

Jess skipped backstage and I felt Angel's touch against my chest prevent me from chasing after her. "Not yet, love." She said to me in that beautiful British voice I could so easily sublimate myself against if she gave me another hour. I didn't even argue, I nodded sluggishly and wandered off aimlessly with hands in pockets and head full of haze. I've been walking around London for the past hour, I'm surprised I've not been mugged. I've been thinking. 

 

 I've been thinking that maybe I'm actually okay with all of this. I think I just want to make sure I'm worth taking too, so that I can remain with Jess and of course, Angel herself. Taking where, you ask? Well I'm not really sure to be honest, maybe we'd be like her docile assistants or perhaps just pets for keeping around the house. I'd be a footstool for her if it meant I didn't have to experience choosing for myself again. Free will is a fucking curse, isn't it? If you're never in charge of any decisions, you're never to blame for ANYTHING. Isn't that so sweet, dear readers? I really think it'd be cruel to try and rob a girl I'm meant to love the freedom of being owned, freed from choice and consequence and constant disappointment. I thought it was worth it in the long run because of the accomplishment you feel when you do get things right, like when I first confessed to Jess. But I'll let you in on a little secret, Ribbit. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, has ever made me feel as proud, as mind whitingly fucking good, as when Angel took control of my body. When she steered my lust like a ship in a storm, wave after wave of crashing pleasure making me wetter than Jess ever has, making me cum for a cheering crowd. 

 

It instantly made me become disillusioned with the concept of free will. I'm so glad that Jess is being freed from all that nonsense, I love her so much. If we're so very good for Mistress Angel, maybe she'll consider keeping us. I'm going to tomorrow's show and I don't intend to leave. It'll be the last choice I ever make... and the best one. 

 

Update 3: I've read a lot of comments calling this thread fake and "the author's poorly disguised fetish" which is odd as I've definitely not been trying to hide it! While I assure you this is not simply erotica, and I've no clue what an ARG is, you're lucky enough to be receiving another update from yours truly, courtesy of my mistress.

 

That's right, I'm officially property. Angel explained to me that telling all of you online perverts this fact is akin to presenting myself to the crowd during the stage shows. Which is to say, exhibitionism is pretty neat I guess. I want the entire world to know how horny I am, I guess, and there's nothing wrong with that. A little bit of a misnomer there, as it's less that I want it and more that Angel wants it. I no longer want save for the wants installed upon my consciousness by those callous, caring fingers of hers. I DO want it, but my want is more of a secondary function, a call and response which is entirely conditional on whether Angel wants. It's a proxy of want, as I'm really just a slave with no will of her own. Jess is even better at this than I am on account of her lead, she's so thoroughly programmed, trained, brainwashed... god all these words are so fucking hot aren't they? 

 

Oh right I'm supposed to regale you with the events that led to my proper acquisition. I mean all of this was that, but this was the night in which I gave myself over to her control completely. I won't look back, because I won't remember how hehe. We went to the show again, got called up again, and I ate her pussy while kneeling on the stage in front of all those strangers. Angel tastes like heaven, I can describe her sweetness in no other way. Smothering warmth and moisture eclipsed my thoughts in a vertical smile of need. Angel doesn't need me, not really, but I was needed by her in that moment to put on a good show. I was tantamount to prop, throbbing at the thought as I debased myself further and further for the entertainment of her and everybody else. I only cared about her, though.

 

So badly did I yearn for her approval with that lustfully lapping tongue, like a dog gorging on a bowl of slop. I burrowed deeper between her thighs and disappeared down a deep rabbit hole of desire. The Queen of Hearts could have my head for all I cared, so long as she let me finish eating my goddess out first. So long as she made sure to get Mistress Angel's permission like all good girls should. 

 

It was in that perfect moment I wished would stretch into eternity that Angel bestowed upon me my first mantra.

 

 

Stupid and breathless, she made me recite those words between laps of her moreish twat (I'm picking up the slang here!) and oh my gosh I think my IQ permanently dropped during the time between when I started and when Angel finished. She came onto my face and I felt born again, thanking her as Jess pulled me up to present my shiny visage to the audience so humiliatingly. What's there to be embarrassed about when I can't make decisions? I'm not responsible, so why feel any shame? It's irrational, isn't it?

 

The show had ended and we were led into the back like lost little lambs, lovingly she lavished us with more affection than either of us could rightly handle. I discovered that Jess was not alone with Angel on those nights in which she disappeared into the darkness. Angel's harem is a growing one, we're like her pretty concubines or something. She even has a pair of twins under her thrall who came all the way to Europe with her, the Porters. 

 

Oh! I should explain. The moment we're led into the back, Angel drops her accent and I realise she's not even British, just passing by with a few timely performances that changed our lives forever. Her accent was so convincing too, the other slaves are still making fun of me for falling for it as if they wouldn't all fall for our goddess. I watched Jess cuddle up to another pet decorated in pretty lace, Samantha I think it was, and I didn't feel jealous at all. Why would I? We're meant to be shared and besides, I did just tonguefuck our goddess to completion mere minutes before. It's safe to say the boundaries between us all have been thoroughly knocked down, though I still consider Jess to be my girlfriend even now. Even if Angel is my only cupid, isn't the angel of love's entire job to bring lovers like me and Jess together forever? We were already dating, sure, but now our relationship has the blessing of a cupid's touch. Lovestruck forevermore. 

 

As the Porter twins initiated a three way kiss with me and Jess found herself locking legs with a lacy lover of her own, the two of us held hands and never let go.

 

P.S. Being property is living properly. I just got this new mantra today, Angel said I earned it! Goodbye internet, I don't need you anymore.