Owning My Boss (Unprotected Trance 2) - Nadia Nightside
Owning My Boss (Unprotected Trance 2) - Nadia Nightside
Owning My Boss (Unprotected Trance 2) - Nadia Nightside
OWNING MY BOSS
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*****
Author's Note: All Characters
Depicted Herein Are 18 Years Of Age
Or Older.
*****
Owning My Boss
I stood over the once-proud beauty. Taking her hair in one hand,
rubbing my manhood up and down her cheek. A trail of cum left
behind on the smooth skin. She was an angel drenched in my seed,
and filled with it too. And I had more and more to flood her with—
more than I could believe. My need to take her, fill her, shape her,
was endless.
“You’ll be mine. Forever.”
“I’ll be yours. Forever!”
She repeated obediently. Fervently. Blissful warmth tinging her
voice like the lip print around a glass. After a dose of my cum, they
all repeat whatever I say. They believe whatever I say. My words
become the truth that the core of their thought wraps around.
“You love my cock.”
“I love your cock.”
“You love me.”
“I love you.”
“You'll be my love slave. From now on.”
“I'll be your love slave from now on.”
“You love being in love with me.”
“I love being in love with you.”
“You want me in charge of your life.”
“I want you in charge of my life.”
I was getting hard again already. Even in her tranced state, she
could sense the growth of my member as it edged toward her face.
Her plush, perfect lips strained forward, wanting to hold me in the
sweet warm cradle of her mouth.
Control is big for me. It's what I want, I've realized, more than
anything. But with this particular beauty on her knees before me—
gorgeous almost beyond compare, and who had otherwise
possessed a completely indomitable will before tasting my seed—
now swearing her life over to my care, I realized truly that this
situation was all entirely out of control.
Even mine.
*****
*****
The day hummed along nicely. Lori was sweet on me all day, making
sure my coffee cup stayed full. Mallory raised her eyebrows once or
twice, but only in a suggestive manner. Wanting me to go pin down
the tiny flirt and fuck her until she wasn't able to do anything besides
screaming my name. I knew if Mallory was able, she’d encourage
me to fuck Lori like that, but I’d placed harsh limits on her initiating
sex while we were at work. If we fucked every time that she felt like
it, we would never have any work done.
So, I was her Master, and she was my Slave. She wanted this—I
had made this deep, dark fantasy of hers become absolutely real.
But it was confined to our private spaces—emails and texts, our
apartments (which would soon become one apartment, or so I had
gathered from her desperate begging), and hot whispers.
The command, “You want your Master to fuck as many beautiful
women as he likes,” was a special triumph of mine, I have to say.
If an especially pretty woman came into the store, Mallory would
tug my arm and encourage me to look at her.
“Her, Master?” she would whisper in my ear, fingers sliding along
my spine. “Won't you bring her home with us? I want to watch her
suck your cock...”
One side-effect of all the trances I had performed on Mallory was,
of course, that she found me so immensely attractive now that she
couldn't imagine anyone else not doing the same. I had become
more than just Mallory's type—I was the type. And, while the
constant fucking and Mallory's devotion to making healthy meals
over the past week had helped me drop a few pounds, I wasn't
exactly an Adonis. Just a normal guy with dark hair and a beard that
needed more shaving than it got who somehow had a magical cock.
Later in the afternoon, into the store strolled a tall, older
gentleman in a beautiful charcoal gray suit. He was slightly taller
than average, with a thick bald spot on top of his head covered with
a significant comb-over. A thick belly pushed out in front of him
wherever he walked, though if you were to see him you would not
really characterize him as fat. Just an older American male.
He was Audrey’s father—Audrey being my ex-girlfriend who
barely gave me the time of day even when we dated. His name was
Wallace Sheffield. He was a self-made businessman, owning his first
printing business at the age of twenty, without any formal schooling,
and building a small kingdom of profits for himself ever since.
There were two things I knew about him for certain: that he loved
his daughter, and that he hated me for dating her.
“Victor!” His smile was flat, like a building. “Just the man I wanted
to see. Won’t you come this way, please?”
All day with this. Come this way, come over here. Doing whatever
I pleased with Mallory’s mind didn’t make me exactly amenable to
that sort of command, but I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.
Sheffield would raise a stink, and the bookstore needed him.
Anywhere from seventy to one hundred percent of the bookstore's
cost of staying in business was directly from Sheffield's donations.
He led me outside into the downtown streets. The wind whipped
cool around us, pushing down from the buildings. Across the street a
man tinkered with his bicycle lock, trying to get it undone. Swirls of
trash gathered in a drain, cups pushing in on paper and plastic lids.
A man slept on an old vent with a dog under his arm, his cardboard
sign illegible. A skinny, older policeman, Officer Cornell, had caught
sight of him and started to head over. There’d be a talking to and a
warning and that would be all, which was usual for Cornell.
I had gotten to know some of the policemen because they
stopped by the store often to chat with Dawn. Her girlfriend, Celise,
was a detective now, but she had been on patrol for several years
before working her way up. It was hard for a black woman to get
respect like the kind a police detective had in Alder City.
“I’m going to be very direct with you,” said Sheffield. “Are you up
for it?”
“Okay.”
“Audrey is returning to the country this week. Later today, as a
matter of fact. She’s been in transit for about seven hours now.”
“...all right?”
I can’t lie, the thought of possibly seeing her had my heart
thumping a bit. Audrey was absolutely gorgeous, and in a lot of
ways, I was still wrapped around her. She had, as Mallory pointed
out numerous times, done a number on me. That thick chestnut hair,
her bright brown eyes...
You are not to interact with my daughter. Under any
circumstances.”
“Listen, man—”
I stopped for a second, surprised at myself. He waited. It was
surreal, calling him “man.” But having just emptied myself into Lori a
few hours ago, and controlling her so absolutely, and doing the same
thing to Mallory on a regular basis, I felt untouchable.
“Your daughter, no offense, just wasn’t for me. And I wasn’t for
her. We both know that, okay? So don’t worry about it.”
“Then why has she been talking about you?”
Double-take. “What?”
There we go. Heart thumping again. Why had Audrey been
talking about me?
“She’s been talking about you. With some fondness. Wondering
what you’ve been up to.”
“I haven’t...she asked to stop talking with me. So I did. That’s
that.”
“Ah.” His eyes twinkled. “I see. You took her at her word.”
“What the hell else was I supposed to do?”
He put a hand around my shoulder. A complete shift in
demeanor. “Son, there are all types of women in this world. But one
of the most prevalent, and I’m surprised you haven’t come across
one already and recognized her for what she was, is the sort that
says the exact opposite of what they mean. And they do this all the
time. So, in a way, you could say that she always says what she
means, so long as you have the code down.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“If I wanted to make sense, I wouldn’t be talking about the
emotional inner-workings of a woman!” He guffawed. “At any rate,
you’re smart enough. You’ve sussed out why I’m telling this to you.”
“Because you think Audrey is the type of girl who doesn’t say
what she means.”
“Yes. And along with that, she’s the kind of girl who’s a little
confused, no doubt, about your eagerness to just drop her out of
your life.”
“She asked me to.”
“And you accepted! Just like that! A puzzle for a beautiful smart
girl like her. You can see how I talk about her. She thinks, no doubt,
that she is as special as I believe her to be.” He smiled slightly. “As
she should. But so, you represent a terrible puzzle to her. I can see
that now.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Demystify the puzzle. When you talk to her again—and you
shall, she has her darling little heart set on it now, no doubt—let her
know how terribly interested you are. She’ll run away immediately.”
“You want me to dissuade your daughter from dating me by
telling her how much I want to date her, even though I don’t want to
date her.”
He clapped me on the back. “Now you’ve got it! We’ll make a
man of you yet. Or someone will, at any rate.” His voice became low
and dangerous. “Don’t let me cross your path for this reason again.
You won’t like it very much.”
As he walked down the street, he looked up around at the
bookstore.
“This truly is a lovely little shop. I’ve always liked those windows
there.” He pointed above the front door. “The stained glass and all.
Makes it feel like a special place. Holy, almost. It would be a shame
if all it’s funding went away, yes? If rumors spread around, rooting
from some powerful source, making it impossible for the place to get
back up on its feet.” He must have seen the look on my face. It
seemed like he enjoyed it. “Do you know I built that new shopping
center out on Second and Old Foster last year? My money. A terrific
investment so far.”
I thought for a moment. “There used to be an old church there.”
“Yes. And I tore it down. Special places fall apart all the time. Isn’t
that remarkable?”
*****
*****
After extricating myself from Mallory’s loving grip, it was only a few
moments before Audrey had pulled me along outside behind the
bookstore. There was a small alley there where enterprising truck
drivers sometimes tried to negotiate into our paltry excuse for a
loading dock. Mostly, these days, all the books were unloaded in the
front. The dock was there as a leftover, something that probably had
been quite useful before the tall, identity-less apartment buildings
rose up directly behind the shop with their steel corners and tall
metal fences.
The Ice Festival took place in a four block radius in downtown.
Down the alley, I could see couples and families walking by. Children
held balloons shaped by the local artists on the prowl. A hotdog
vendor shouted about his special on beers and brats.
Audrey crossed her arms, looking at me critically. She wore a
long, loose sort of white gown that clung neatly to her large braless
tits and firm, luscious hips. Her thick chestnut hair was wrapped
around one shoulder in a shiny braid. God, I wanted to fill her. Breed
her. Get her pregnant. The urge to grab her, kiss her, take her was
nearly overwhelming. All she had for warmth was a small jacket—not
quite enough in the winter cool of the city. Her shivering body only
made my primal instinct to take her and fill her with warm,
overflowing seed all the greater.
We had never fucked before, of course. Our intercourse barely
went beyond kissing. That made me want her all the more now.
“So,” she said.
“So...?”
“It’s so nice to see you.”
It clearly wasn’t.
“Somehow it doesn’t seem that way.”
“You stopped talking to me.” She pushed my shoulder,
aggressive. “Why?”
“Because...you asked me to? Because we had broken up and I
moved on?”
“I know I asked you to, but like,” her dark eyes flashed, “I wasn’t
asking for complete radio silence. Just, you know. Less.”
I shrugged. “I suppose if you wanted to talk, there was nothing
stopping you from setting the terms of the conversation.”
“But how am I supposed to know if you want to talk at all?”
“You’re right,” I said, smiling through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault.
All of it. Every last bit. Are you happy now? Are we done? Can I go
back to work?”
There was something in her that had wanted to create some form
of peace. I could tell that, with that off-hand remark, I had
steamrolled all over it. I didn’t care. She deserved a talking-to for
once in her life, raised in Daddy’s riches without ever lifting a finger
for herself, and I wasn’t in any mood to deal with her double-talk. If
she wanted something from me, she could ask.
“Mallory’s your girlfriend now, I guess?”
Instead of owning up to anything she had done wrong, she
changed the subject. Typical.
“Not your business. But, yup. She is.”
That, and so, so much more, I wanted to tell her. So much more
than you’ll ever be, Audrey. You’ll never come close to comparing to
what Mallory gives me.
Not naturally, anyway. Again, the thought filled my mind. Holding
her jaw open for just a few seconds, letting a vial of my cum sink
down. It would be easy. It would only take a few seconds. Would
anyone from the street see? I didn’t think so. We were both so
isolated there in the alley. And the struggle would be so quick...after
the initial part, anyone watching wouldn’t know what to assume. She
would be so calm and placid, so accepting of my will...
I could make her accept it was all her fault that we broke up. I
could make her beg to take her back. Beg for my forgiveness. I could
make her apologize for days that she didn’t worship my cock like a
woman should.
“Nice view?”
I had been staring at her tits, nipples hard in the cold. My breath
was heavy, face slightly flushed. This power was getting to me. I
looked away, down the street, trying to resist the singing urges of my
bulge. This was so hard. Literally and figuratively.
“What would your girlfriend think of you looking at my tits?”
I shrugged. “She’d probably say I had good taste.”
Audrey looked disgusted. “And Lori is...just, what? Your
fuckbuddy?”
“I don’t know that’s any of your business. Why don’t you ask
her?”
She rolled her eyes. “Look, I just know...”
“What, Audrey? What is it you know?”
“I know that’s not you. I know that you’re a pushover. You’re
acting like a dick, now, and you never used to before. Not this
openly, anyway. And you’ve got both of these beautiful girls eating
out of your hand, somehow. And it’s creepy and weird and I’m a little
scared for them.”
I rolled my eyes. “For them?”
“You’re doing something. I don’t know what it is, okay? But...the
way they looked at you. I walked around for a minute in the store,
paying attention. Lori was flirting with other guys, but she would
always look back at you. Like a dog, like a puppy. Hoping for
approval. That glassy, obedient look. I’m thinking it’s drugs.”
“Drugs? Get real.”
“When I was in Ecuador, I helped these girls get out from under a
pimp’s fingers.” She crossed her arms. “He kept them hopped up on
some combination of ecstasy and heroin. They were blissful and
active and looked to all the world like they loved their life...but they
were dead inside. And I know that’s what you’re doing to them. Or
something like that.”
“Yeah, that’s me, Audrey. That’s the guy you went out with. That
dude who knows where to get ecstasy-heroin combinations. That’s
what I do. I go find drug dealers for the most banned substances in
America and then I use my advanced knowledge of chemistry to mix
it all together.”
The funny thing is, I really was angry at her accusation. She was
closer to the mark than she knew, closer than she had any right to
be. And yet still, I was legitimately pissed that she would level that
kind of thought my way.
Morality is all fucked up, I guess. Especially when you’re trying to
ignore it.
We were quiet then, but my fury still raged. I tried to find
something civil to say, but the anger had a mind of its own now. Like
a cheetah, lunging after a kill at full speed, it wouldn’t be satisfied
until the prey was in its hands or it had fumbled and tripped on its
face. Either way, the only cure for the rage was exhaustion of its fuel.
“God, you’re a bitch.” I shook my head. “You really are. You find
me so repulsive that the notion that two women might enjoy me,
simultaneously, just doesn’t even register with you. It’s not your
business. And hey, you know what?” I couldn’t stop my words now. I
was furious. “Let’s say I’m doing that to them. You know Mallory. You
know she has her head on straighter than anything. If I were able to
do that to her, fuck with her head somehow? What makes you think I
wouldn’t do the same to you? Why wouldn’t I just, you know, poof!
Drug you. And then you’re mine to do with as I please. What’s
protecting you, Audrey? Especially now that you’ve gone and told
me that you ‘figured out’ my whole plan? Wouldn’t it make just
perfect sense for me to fuck your head up too so that you didn’t do
anything about it? You can’t even be smart about what a bitch you
are, that’s the most infuriating thing about you.”
I wanted it to be sarcastic. But there was too much of the angry,
wicked truth in there...and she could tell.
She straightened herself upward, putting on a brave face. But I
could tell that, instantly, I had terrified her. I felt bad. Really, I did.
When anger leaves you, it’s like the air leaving a balloon, keeping
you whipping and swirling in the wind, waiting for something to
steady you.
But god, I was tired of her nosing in on my business. Her and her
entire family. I just wanted them out of my life.
“I can see we’re not going to have a nice, rational conversation
about this,” she said coldly. “It’s too bad. I missed talking with you,
Victor. Or, I missed the old Victor. I thought we might start talking
again. Have some fun together, even. But I can see that I don’t want
to do that now.”
“Audrey—”
“Shut up. Shut up, now. You don’t get to threaten me and then
talk to me, okay? You do not.”
“I wasn’t threatening—”
“No.” She smiled, her face entirely frozen. “Nothing you could
ever do would be a threat to me, little boy.”
And then she walked out to the street. And it took every ounce of
my self-control to not grab her and show her exactly how in control of
her I could be.
*****
This was a problem. As I came down from the rage at being accused
of so many awful things, my actual logic began to work it’s magic.
And with logic came regret and guilt. So far I had only been focused
on my own pleasure. Using it however I wanted. But now I had to
think of the other side of all this—how this looked to those who
weren’t me. How it looked to those who didn’t think my cock entering
hot, eager, controlled pussy was the sexiest, most perfect thing on
the planet.
What was wrong with those people, right?
Ha.
When Audrey called me out on messing with Mallory, messing
with Lori...I knew she was right. And when I felt the impulse to run
her down and shove my cum down her throat, to show her what I
could do to her...that was an enormous problem.
This absolute power was corrupting me absolutely. Obviously, I
enjoyed it. That’s part of the whole corruption process. But I could
see that if I kept going down this road, it wouldn’t be long before
things got completely out of hand. And with what I was doing to
Mallory, to Lori, there was no way for me to justify any of it should
someone start putting the pieces together. And maybe Audrey had
already started doing that.
That night, I told Lori to stay at home and cum to the thought of
me and Mallory several times. At least four. She had nodded
obediently. I could see a flash of doubt—not knowing why that
sounded like such a terrific idea, not knowing why it felt so
completely normal to do such a thing for me—and then I saw her
face glass over as the doubt was replaced with sexual heat.
“Yes, Sir. Anything you say.”
And then she walked, sort of dazed, back to her bike and on her
way home.
Probably you haven’t had to think about this before, but it’s really,
really difficult to stop being aroused at being in control and then
make yourself even more in control when the only way you can think
of to control the control is by being even more in control.
I promise that makes sense.
Anyway.
I knew it was wrong to order Lori around like that when I had
plans to somehow fix Mallory’s thoughts. But, I had to do things one
at a time.
The Ice Festival’s first day had been a good day for the
bookstore. There was no telling, though, if it would solve all our
problems. Dawn ran the numbers that night, and she’d let me know
how we did the next morning. Tonight, it was all up in the air, but
even with as long as I planned to have a triumphant success after
the Festival was over, my only thoughts were on Audrey, Mallory,
Lori, and how to unfuck the situation I was in as best as possible.
At my apartment, Mallory was already there, in her apron and
heels again, making dinner. Fuck, she was so sexy. Her ass was a
polished, round surface, waiting for my hands and my hands alone.
All I wanted to do was take her from behind and slam her against the
counter, fucking her rotten while she made my dinner. And afterward,
when she was full of my lifegiving cum, make her swear in trance to
always, always beg to be fucked as brutally as that when I got home.
But I had to roll this back somehow. I had to...I don’t know. I had
to get her to stop thinking of me as her boyfriend. Her Master.
Audrey was right—I was fucking with her mind, and there was no
way around that.
I didn’t want to be completely out of her life, though. I still, in my
own way, absolutely cared for Mallory. Maybe I even loved her. And
the past week of having her as my devoted, cocksucking, adoring,
heartaching girlfriend was almost more than I could bear to lose.
But only almost. I had to do the right thing.
“Mallory, I need you to do something for me.”
“Of course, babe.” She down the vegetables she had gathered to
chop. “What is it?”
She waited, her hands wrapped in front of her patiently. This was
how a good girl hears to obey, she had told me.
God, she was so happy doing this. Was it truly wrong? I know I
had made her happiness...but where did it matter where the
happiness came from so long as it was there?
No, that was the corruption. Get rid of this. Do something. Think
of something.
“I...uh,” my face squirmed.
“What’s wrong, love? You look upset. Did something happen?”
Her hands shifted to her hips. “Was it talking with Audrey? She must
have fucked with your head, huh? Do you want me to suck you off so
you can relax?” Her voice became a hot, conspiratorial whisper. “I
know my Master wants to fuck her so very badly. We could make it
happen, I bet. Anytime you wanted. I could get her drunk or
something. Put thoughts in her ear.”
Fuck. The image of Mallory pouring drinks down Audrey’s throat,
making her ever more malleable to my will was something else. In
fact, I didn’t even need to order her to use alcohol. All it would take
was one drink laced with my cum. And all that would take would be
for Mallory to be my willing, complicit partner in all my activities. To
have her urge me on as I took over more and more fertile, hot
bodies. She would know exactly what she was helping me do. She
would know exactly what I had done to her. And she would think it
was hot.
“You like that, don’t you?” Her soft hand wrapped around my cock
through my pants. “Such a bad boy. It’s too bad you’re only stuck
alone here with me tonight. What if, in the meantime, I just suck you
off while you think about her. How about that?”
And suddenly, there was nothing—literally nothing—I wanted
more than to have Mallory suck me off while I called out Audrey’s
name. And I know that Mallory would open encourage that. But I
couldn’t do it.
Or, obviously I could do it. I was already getting hard just from
being around Mallory’s beautiful, willing body, and doubly so
because of her achingly hot words. But I had to be strong. Moral. I
had to do something right by her.
“Just m-make dinner, okay?” I struggled to say it. I didn’t want to
tell her no.
Her face twisted. “Did I do something wrong? I’m so sorry,
Master. I thought...I thought you would want—”
“No, it’s fine. Everything’s perfectly fine. You’ve been a perfect
slave, all right?”
Currents of relief visibly ran through her body. “Oh. Thank you,
Master. Perhaps I’ll serve you like that after dinner?”
“Perhaps.”
With her back turned, I made myself a glass of soda and then
reached into the fridge, pouring a vial of cum down and mixing it in
with my finger. I almost slipped the finger into my mouth to dry it,
before remembering myself. I laughed at how dumb that might have
been. Instead, I wiped it on my pants.
“Drink this.” I held out the tainted soda to Mallory.
“Yes, Master.”
She was absolutely unquestioning. And there was something in
her eyes—some glimmer of understanding. Did she have
suspicions? She must. She was unquestionably a smart woman.
Even as my happy, needy fuckslave, she was always suggesting
new ways to serve and please me.
She drained the drink down. Slowly, her muscles relaxed
completely. Her body began to slump. I caught the glass before it fell
to the ground.
“Mallory, I have something very important to tell you.”
“You have something very important to tell me.”
I slid her hands up toward her pussy. She naturally began
fingering herself. It was sort of sick to do it this way, but commands
always went down easier when she had fingers in her pussy.
“You’re going to learn better than you ever have before.”
“I’m going to learn better than I ever have before.”
I took a breath. Here we go. Experiment time.
“You think of me as your big brother.”
“I think of you as my big brother.”
Wow. That went through with no resistance at all. Maybe this de-
brainwashing would be easier than I thought?
“I am your big brother.”
“You are my big brother.”
“Lori is your little sister.”
“Lori is my little sister.”
“You love us like family.”
She sighed happily. “I love you like family.”
For whatever reason, she hadn’t stopped fingering herself. One
thing at a time, I told myself. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, but the
fingering had encouraged the taking in of commands in the past, so I
hardly wanted to stop it now.
“We are your family.”
“You are my family.”
“I’m the man in your family.”
“You’re the man in my family.”
“I am your big brother.”
“You are my big brother.”
And then I ended, with softer, less stringent repetitions. She
thought the world of me. She felt deep, fraternal love for me. She
was happy to be my family. She loved sharing with me.
Still mindfucky, I know. But I wanted it to be a slow rollback. My
thinking was that if I just undid everything, right away, her mind might
collapse from the effort of rewriting itself. What was I to know? I
wasn’t a neuroscientist or a doctor or a philosopher or anything of
the sort. Just a horny guy who went too far.
Sure. That’s how I could characterize myself. A horny guy taking
things one step too far...and then several more steps after that.
That done, I held her close and cuddled her tight. I had her
abandon dinner and walked her over to the bed, sliding her down in
with me. Her tight, toned beautiful body felt so perfect against mine. I
sighed lustfully, wishing for more contact...but resisted.
One last night, I told myself. We’d wake tomorrow and it would all
be different—but until then, I’d enjoy Mallory’s attentions on me for
just one more night.
When I woke, it was nearing dawn. Outside, the sun’s rays had
begun to peak through the darkness. Mallory was no longer at my
side, and I was confused.
After a moment, though, everything started to become very clear.
First, I just heard the soft, hot schlicking sounds. Then, dreamily, I
noticed that my cock was being sucked.
“M-Mallory?”
“Shh, big bro,” she moaned. “I want to be good for you.”
“Wh...” I was dazed. “What?”
“I want to be your good girl sisterslave, Master. I know how
important it is to please you. And I woke up and I just needed my
brother’s cock in my mouth. Please?”
“Fuck,” I moaned. “Oh fuck.”
“Please, big bro? Can’t I please suck you off? I need your perfect
brother Master cock in my mouth. Please?”
I gulped. God, she was so gorgeous. So malleable. I couldn’t
deny her. I had to command her.
“That’s right, sis. You did great. Suck me off. Like a good slave.”
Moaning, she slurped back down and went right to work.
Mallory had been practically orphaned by her family when she
was still so very young. It only made sense for her to idolize the male
members of her family. I had thought that I could use that idolatry to
my advantage—to make me seem more untouchable. But the
feelings of attraction, of being owned like a slave by a strong
patriarchal force, were too strong. She saw no conflict between
thinking of me as her hot big brother and of me as her Master. And
now I had made them the same.
My plan had failed, at least for the moment. With Mallory
wrapping her loving, perfect mouth around my rod like it was the
center of her world, cooing with orgasmic delight every time I called
her my sisterslave, I struggled to care.
*****
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*****
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*****
What's next?
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Jessica is gorgeous and young, with her whole life ahead of her.
Lane is painfully normal; being best friends with a beauty like Jessica
is the biggest accomplishment he’s ever had. Despite Lane’s
overtures of affection, the delectable Jessica has cornered Lane
firmly in the friend zone. He’s just not right for her—she loves him as
a friend, but doesn’t want to be “in” love with him.
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Read more at Nadia Nightside’s site.