The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alternate Reality

Chapter 2

It is a decidedly pleasant experience to be awoken by the ministrations of a slave’s lips upon one’s member. A good omen for an exciting day! A smile creases my cheeks as I continue to feign sleep: I think I will indulge in a game…

‘Who is it this time?’ I wonder as I try to recognize her technique with my eyes closed. I feel the suction pause momentarily as my growing erection touches the back of her throat. Not slave Teresa then: she had been practicing on oversized farm produce since well before the guild masters decreed her fit to serve as currency, and her gag reflex was practically nonexistent.

Slave Aisha, perhaps? Her slender proportions always gave her some trouble accepting me into her throat, although she had learned to compensate well. Her tongued attention to the underside of my cockhead has been exemplary of late. Those day-school classes in the art of blowjob were a terrific investment, I must say.

But somehow, this was less art and more raw enthusiasm. I hear the sounds of excess saliva slicking between my cock and her lips as she attacks my hardness with pure need. There is the momentary hint of cool metal when her lip stud grazes me, before I feel her throat stop resisting and finally open as she pushes herself down on me. That’s my girl.

“Slave Catherine.” I murmur.

I feel her withdraw slowly as she knew I would expect, sucking all the way back to my cockhead with a pop. “Yes Master Josh?”

I draw the covers across the bed, revealing her naked and perfectly heart-shaped buttocks before finally uncovering her face where she had wormed in under the sheets. She holds me delicately the her fingers of her right hand, bathing my cockhead with her tongue and smiling at me with her eyes, ready to do whatever I ask of her.

“Come here. I want your pussy.”

“Yes Master Josh.” She crawls up my body, dotting little kisses up my stomach and chest before laying one on my lips with a cheeky smile. Taking my member in her hands, she sits back onto me, impaling herself with a sigh.

I inspect her as she begins to ride me: and not just her physical tone, please understand, but her presentation and performance as well. Her pussy is moist and her muscles grab at me expertly, her toned abdominal muscles rippling with the effort. Her hands are braced on my shoulders, and wisps of her chestnut brown hair fall across her face when she’s not arching back to get the best angle out of my cock in her pussy. It’s a very pretty sight, and quite the experience too.

I take a moment to heft her breasts in both hands, marveling again at how soft they are; pale and lightly freckled orbs that seem to grow in my hands as she breathes. On a whim I tweak one of her pink nipples. She gasps happily in response. Then she laughs with a hungry sound and starts riding me harder, eyes wide with ardor.

Good. In this part of the country at least, the cultured standards of natural beauty and sexual congress have to be monitored and maintained. Although Catherine’s facial piercings do limit her potential buyers, it does mark me as a particularly wealthy master that I can afford to keep such fetish objects. Also, since my girls work well together, and service my bills more than adequately, I cannot say I have plans to make changes anytime soon.

My mind is wandering: I realize the scent of coffee in the air is starting to overwhelm the solitary candle burning low in the corner. I will have to see to that. The coffee is also a reminder of my growing hunger: time for breakfast.

I roll my Catherine onto her back and withdraw, sliding off the bed with my hardness glistening in the air. Out of consideration, I pick one of the large dildos that sit on a nearby shelf and pass it to her.

“Finish yourself off with this. I want to hear you orgasm while I eat.”

“Yes Master Josh, ” she says, hiding her disappointment well.

She takes a cursory lick of the dildo and runs it down her sternum in a show clearly meant for me. I pause to admire her rubbing the shaft sexily against her lower lips and clitoris before I exit towards the kitchen. A loud groan follows me as I go.

“Good morning Master Josh.” Aisha says brightly as I enter the room, standing up straight and wearing nothing more than her apron, which covers just enough to be both practical and intriguing. The sizzle of bacon has now joined the sound and smell of brewing coffee. “I’m preparing scrambled eggs with bacon and mushrooms, just the way you like it. Did you want your coffee now or once breakfast is ready?”

“When it is ready I suppose. Is there a newspaper?”

“Teresa should be back with it in a minute. There was a note from the delivery boy to say they would be late today. Some sort of malfunction with the press.”

“Oh.” I say. That was unusual. It may even be a first.

I pause before sitting down at the table… Without the news of the day, I wouldn’t have anything to do. Unusual indeed. I hear the sound of Catherine moaning loudly from the other room, and I am tempted to go back and finish her off. But I find myself watching as Aisha goes back to preparing the meal, bare ass framed by the apron; pussy mound clearly visible from behind. I have another idea.

“Aisha, let me know when the eggs go on.”

Her long black hair swirls over the perfect skin of her shoulder as she glances back at me. I can see she understands immediately, her ass wiggling cutely in anticipation. She finishes chopping the mushrooms quickly and adds them to the fry pan with the bacon, the smell dominating the room. A minute later, she’s scrambled the eggs in a bowl with milk, then added them as well.

“Master Josh, I’ve just added the…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence. As soon as I see she’s done it I’ve pulled her away from the stove by the waist and bent her over the counter. The mixing bowl falls to the bench top with a clatter, and my hardness is already parting the folds of her pussy.

She yelps as I pummel her wet cunt vigorously, kitchen implements sliding freely in her hands as she tries to gain some traction on the smooth counter. The moans of Catherine emanating from the bedroom are quite the aphrodisiac too, so I feel myself getting close quickly. Since the eggs will be done soon, I work on achieving my orgasm will all possible speed.

Aisha’s yelps have now turned to shrieks of pleasure as I feel her pussy lips swell to their full arousal and hold me tightly. The amount of grip she can achieve in such a slender frame is always impressive and often commented upon.

My pace slows as I become close, and she coos in response, urging me ever closer to exploding in her tight wet pussy.

“Fuck me Master Josh,” she screams. “Fuck me harder.”

It doesn’t take me long. For a moment longer I am holding her hips tightly, powering into her, but then I hold her tight and flood her womb with my cum. A moment later it is leaking out around my dick.

Which reminds me; I must check on their contraception records. They must be coming due for a booster shot soon and it would not do to get any of my slaves pregnant. If any of the other masters found out, I would never hear the end of it.

Aisha is whimpering and still grinding her slit against my rapidly deflating cock, my semen running down her legs. The girl wants to come, and who can blame her?

But my eggs look ready, so I withdraw my member from her pulsing slit. Catherine’s moans are still going though, so I make her a proposition:

“Aisha, the sooner my breakfast is on my plate, the sooner I let you go to Catherine so you can finish each other off. Sound acceptable?”

“Thank you Master Josh!” she purrs as she hops to the job.

I have barely sat down at the table when the most delicious breakfast is laid in front of me: the eggs, mushrooms and bacon accompanied by tomatoes and freshly ground coffee, straight from the farm.

“That is beautiful Aisha. I want you to go sixty-nine with Catherine now. Make her drink my cum, then pleasure yourselves as you like.”

She practically runs out of the room in anticipation, a hurried nod my only acknowledgement. An easy lapse to ignore, but I make a mental note to caution her if it happens again.

I cut at the crisp bacon, piling the layers of meat, eggs and mushroom onto my fork and savoring the combined flavors, to the sounds of escalating arousal next door. I do so adore background music when I eat.

Slave Teresa enters with the newspaper, wearing her customary morning white garter, with suspenders and stockings, voluptuous breasts still glistening from where the delivery boy’s orgasm has exploded all over them.

“Sorry I’m late Master Josh,” she says quickly, “I did try to give him his payment quickly.”

“Not to worry, Teresa, I am only just sitting down to breakfast. Did you find out what happened with the printing press?”

“Some sort of power outage it seems. But Master Robert was there to fix it.”

“Fix it?” I roll my eyes at the thought of the guild science master fixing anything. “Likely as not, he caused it with another one of his experiments.”

Teresa giggles merrily. “Building himself a rocket ship no doubt.”

I laugh out loud at her wit. Teresa is so smart for a girl. I will definitely be holding onto her.

When I recover from my mirth, I gesture for the newspaper, which Teresa lays out on the table beside me. A moment later she has wiped herself down and is crawling under the table to help clean me up after my interlude with Aisha. What with her ability to swallow me whole, and the noises peaking next door, I can even feel myself hardening up again.

Too bad: I would be late if I indulged her, so I put my hand on her shoulder to tell her to ease up.

“Not today dear.” I say gently, the pet name coming easily. “First day of term.”

“Of course Master Josh.” She goes back to just licking around my balls where some of the semen had clung to my skin. “Will you be having all of us come to the guild with you?”

“Yes, they did ask us to bring our full bank for verification purposes. Also I want you to see where you will be paying my tuition. Do you remember how much it is for the term?”

“One hundred and eighty two, Master Josh; with the three of us working it should only take a few weeks.”

“Very good. You remember what it is for?”

She eyes me reverently, “you’ll be the youngest master-level candle maker in the district… All the other girls in the town will be so jealous.”

“Ah, yes. Well they do teach us some exotic recipes this term, or so I hear.” I chuckle at the thought of the psychedelics I was going to try with my girls.

“Mmmm.” She hums against me as she finishes cleaning me up.

The sounds of arousal from next door seem to be winding down as well. I watch as Teresa slides out from between my legs and stands up. “Teresa, while I think of it, make sure the candle in the bedroom is replaced.”

“Yes, Master Josh.”

“And I want everyone showered, made up, and dressed in your character lingerie. We’re leaving in forty minutes.”

“Of course, Master Josh.”

* * *

One could not have hoped for more this today! After the welcoming ceremony and leaving my girls for their tour of the accounting department, I began the first of our workshops with Grandmaster Curtis: one of the original candle makers who founded the guild!

There are only eight of us in the class, and all of us are very strong on our theory, so diving into a practical session to finish was a given… but who knew that you could you conjugate stimulants like that?!? Even after explaining that the candle was tripper, I was completely taken aback when the grandmaster set it burning with silver flames.

Even now I am having aftershocks: I can still feel the wind on my wingtips and talons; such was the vividness of the vision of flight this candle induced. It was surpassed only moments later by the sparkling eyes of the ghostly girls who appeared out of the flame to kneel at our feet and suck our cocks. I was caught in those eyes like a doe in headlights, until I realized I was staring back up at my face as I sucked my own member, a passenger in her head!

Grandmaster Curtis has a reputation for pranks, as it turns out, but that was a new one! And of course there was the irresistible compulsion at the end of the vision: the candle had us all strutting about the room and clucking like farm fowl... Even the assistant teacher was crying with laughter! Truly, there are no limits here. With a little patience I could learn much from this man.

For now though, it is time to celebrate the start of term. My girls are following me to Stan’s diner for a beer, and after that, the auction would give us some new talent to consider. No doubt Master Stan would again try to foist off one of his amateur candles on me: those crass creations possessed less subtlety than a house-brick through a window, but his service was always impeccable, and it could hardly hurt me to humor him once again.

In any case, I was especially looking forward to the communal celebration of fucking that occurred in Stan’s diner on auction afternoons.

We are nearly there when I hear a voice I was hoping to avoid.

“Master Joshua?”

Oh dear. I pause and turn as the guild science master, Master Robert catches up with me. I always do my best to be civil, even though the strange man was this time out on the street, alone. I could scarcely imagine what he was thinking to be outside without even one girl in evidence. Were we supposed to think him a vagrant?

“Greetings Master Robert,” I reply. “I hear we have you to thank for fixing the printing press today.”

“Yes, indeed. It seems that getting those electrons to move again is my special skill!” He winked and laughed as if it was a devastatingly funny joke.

“Well that is quite something,” I say politely, not sure what the something was. “Can I help you?”

He gestures grandly back towards his home, a small cottage on the end of the street, “I am about to perform a test of my latest invention, and wondered if you might like to attend?”

I deflect gracefully, even if my patience is already wearing thin: “perhaps another time Master Robert. I have an orgy to attend, and I would like to be in good spirits when I arrive.”

“Oh, I understand.” He starts awkwardly, “but might I perhaps arrange to rent one of your girls for an hour?” He gestures, “Terri, is it? She could report back to you…?”

“Teresa,” I correct him, regarding the man with a mixture of pity and irritation. Did he really not understand that his dabbling in science was a standing joke to the other members of the guild? Perhaps it would be for his own good if I put him in his place.

“And what, pray tell, would you pay for her with? Another of your inventions?” I retort, snider than I had meant to be, but my girls laughed at it nonetheless. “Please Master Robert… fixing the printing press is one thing... but do not overestimate your value… These experiments of yours are something that should be left to the past.”

He wilts in front of me, but I continue: “and frankly, I will thank you not to mention renting my girls ever again. You do not have the bank, and everyone knows it. Go home.”

I turn on my heel and begin walking, hearing my girls follow me. I still feel sorry for the man, but it does not do me any favors to be kind to someone as obviously destined for the mines as he is.

When we enter the diner, Stan himself is nowhere to be seen, although the orgy itself was well underway. I see Master Lucas is here with his two girls, and they were already well into congress with a strap-on. This could make for some interesting combinations…

…But all of a sudden, the most impossible noise starts… a shrill, reverberating sound that penetrates from outside as if the walls were nothing but plaster. I wander back to the doorway, curious… If this were Master Robert’s experiment, he would have some explaining to do. One could barely think with this noise.

I feel a tingle wash over my skin as I cross the threshold of the doorway, and the sound seems to disappear with it. Most queer. My girls come out after me, and…

What the devil?

My girls are fully clothed… as if they were masters, no less. Tight clothing, true; well-tailored garments that did nothing to hide my wealth to any other master that was looking, but what could only be described as working clothes (with the possible exception of Slave Catherine’s shirt, which prominently displays a picture of a frowning cat).

They are looking at each other and at me, noting their sudden lack of presentation and becoming increasingly worried about my displeasure. That is when it strikes me that Teresa and Catherine are wearing minimal make-up, and Aisha is not wearing any at all! And am I wearing the denim pants of the miner caste? What abomination is this?

“Master Josh, Look!” Teresa distracts me, by stepping up beside me and pointing out to the street, where a group of youths (four boys following two girls!), ambles along the side-walk, all of them holding small booklets out in front of them like as if they were divining water.

One of the boys looks at me with hint of jealousy, in awe of my wealth even if my girls are not properly attired. I am about to ask him what is happening, when the taller of the girls screams something (what is a “Pikachu”?) and runs ahead, and then they all run off in a hurry, following her.

I start wondering if Grandmaster Curtis might be playing a very strange prank indeed. I know that it is impossible for a candle dream to last this long, obviously, but the alternative…

I remember to take a few quick breaths in succession… The colors of my vision do not oversaturate. Therefore this is real. Therefore…

“I need a drink,” I say, beginning to think that maybe it is Master Robert who has achieved something very strange.

I lead my girls back inside, noting my girl’s strange clothing choices once more. A cold wash of adrenaline hits me as I realize Master Lucas is no longer in his booth, apparently replaced by a girl of currency age, sitting alone eating a sandwich. The clothing differences may be the least of it, it seems.

“Aisha!” Master Stan calls, sliding out from behind the bar. “Were you really going to walk out on me?”

Aisha stands petrified as Master Stan walks up to her and presents her with a piece of paper, which appears to have fine print written all over it. She looks at me for direction, but he continues before I can respond.

“Ah, I’m just kidding.” Master Stan smiles and slaps her on the back jovially. “You kids would never do that to me, would you?”

“No, of course not, Master Stan,” Aisha replies, hopefully.

“Master Stan hey?” He smiles at us. “I like that. Anyway did you want anything else?”

“Just my beer please.” This is getting stranger all the time. Why on Earth would he need to ask me that?

He laughs and clicks his fingers at me, “Good one, Josh, I could do with a visit to a bar myself. Listen, I got to go out back for a bit, but when you’re ready to sort that out,” he indicates the slip of paper, “you give me a holler, okay?” He leaves without waiting for an answer.

My girls follow me back to the booth in a daze of confusion. The situation defies belief: The diner is suddenly quite empty compared to a minute ago, with just one other booth occupied: an old master and his old girl (?) are eating together from the same plate. My girls keep looking to me, as if I can explain what this is.

For lack of something better to do, I take the piece of paper out of Aisha’s hands to study it. A bill for four drinks, totaling 16.50, and it appears to describe the four mostly finished drinks still sitting on our table. I cannot decide what is weirdest: that there are four drinks, that the drinks are so expensive, or that the total comes to sixteen and a half … is that half a fuck or half a blowjob?

The front door dings and my eyes settle on the familiar face of the man who enters.

I stand up. “MASTER ROBERT” I boom across the diner to get his attention. “What is the meaning of this?”

The man nods and walks quickly over to our booth with more confidence in his step than I have ever seen the man exhibit, waving off the concerned looks of the three other people in the diner, and pulling up a chair to the top of our booth.

“Master Joshua?” he says, disbelievingly.

I look at him incredulously and nod.

“Okay…” he looks at each of the girls in turn. “This is Aisha, Terri and Kate, right?”

“Aisha, Teresa, and Catherine.” I correct him, my uncertainty increasing. Why does he care about my girl’s names?

For a moment he looks like he is trying to compose himself, but eventually he loses the fight and dissolves into a fit of laughter.

Eventually he regains his breath. “Holy SHIT!” he says, holding his side. “He DID it!”

“Who? did what?” I ask. Was he ever going to start making sense?

“Master Robert, of course.”

“Master Robert?” I repeat after him, “then who are you?

“Oh,” he chuckles as he holds his hand for a handshake. “I’m Bob Harkins. I’m the science teacher here. Up until a year ago I had all four of you in my classes… Well, the other you’s, anyway.”

He glances at Teresa, eyeing her cleavage hungrily, “Terri here was my star student. The first of mine to get accepted into Caltech.”

He sees the confusion on our faces and begins to take pity on us. He lounges back on his seat like as if he’s about to tell a long story. “Look, I can explain everything to you Master Joshua, but first, I believe it’s customary where you’re from to pay for important information with oral sex from one of your girls?”

I cannot tell if he is being entirely serious. We are still in the same place, are we not? But as odd as the situation is, I am willing to take the chance. “Yes okay… I take it you would prefer Teresa?”

The way his eyes glazed over at that, one would think he had not received a blowjob for a week or more. The mind boggles: how could anyone get any work done without girls?

“Yes, I’d like that.” He composed himself once more, then continued: “Once you get back, you must tell Master Robert that his device works. But now we know it’s not just tape recordings that can make the crossing, but human minds too!”

Something he said jumps out at me: “So we will get back?”

“Yes. Yes. The field always snaps back to its primary state after an hour or so. When you hear the emulsifier tone again, you’ll want to go back through whichever doorway is closest. Then you’ll be back in your bodies, and the others will be back in theirs…”

“Them? Their bodies?” Part of me hated to even ask the question. But for the obvious changes around us, this could all be dismissed as the talk of a crazy man.

I find myself looking at this man across from me, so similar in appearance to the man I had just been dressing down on the street, but so different in demeanor. “There is something I’m not understanding, Master Bob Harkins…”

Bob grins at me as if the secret were obvious: “All the world’s a stage Master Joshua, and all the men and women merely players…”

“What does Shakespeare have to do with this?”

“Look around you Master Joshua.” He gestures grandly to the diner around us. “It’s the same players, on the same stage; but it’s a different play.”

* * *

If this crazy man resembling Master Robert is to be believed, we are now in the bodies of four other people whose names are Josh, Aisha, Terri and Kate. Soon we will hear that shrill tone again, we will walk through a doorway, and be back in our regular bodies… in time for the auction, or so he assures me.

This achievement is monumental, he says, even by the standards of this world where science seemingly has greater value, and “if I have a single neuron between my ears” I should have more respect for Master Robert once I get back.

Perhaps, or maybe I will just make a tripper candle for him that will give him a lifetime’s worth of nightmares.

What the story does not explain however, is why this Bob Harkins person insisted on taking his payment in the back storage room of the diner, and not out the front where the transaction could be independently verified. Neither does it explain why he insisted I take out a piece of plastic from the old-fashioned leather wallet in my pocket, so he could “wave it” over the plastic box that Master Stan produced when he came back. What devilry is this? Do I not have enough payment sitting beside me?

No matter. He gave us information and he is receiving his payment. Teresa seems to be doing quite a good job on him, even making ample use of her breasts to rub his cock back and forth as she licks at its tip. I ordered Catherine to stand where he could feel her breasts and kiss her: No sense in letting this take any longer than it needs to.

Aisha though, I kept for myself, since I must admit was coming around to seeing the appeal of covering up so much skin. Once the skirt was up around her waist and the pathetic excuse for underwear she was wearing removed for good, I spent a little time to lick at her slit and juice her up: I had been more rough than necessary this morning, such was my rush. Eventually Aisha groans out a small orgasm, and I strip out of my denim, and move to pin her up against the wall.

I glance over to see Master Bob’s face turning red with the sensation he is receiving. He still has Catherine’s breasts in hand, but his eyes are glued to Teresa’s lips riding up and down his hardness. She gently massages his balls as she works, pushing him to breaking point.

She seems to read what he wants when she withdraws her mouth and begins stroking him slowly and firmly with her hand.

“Here Master Bob,” she says gazing up into his eyes. “Come on my chest.”

That sends him over the edge and I see streamers of his orgasm hit her chest, her face, and everywhere else. Teresa smiles and blinks up at him prettily as she milks the last of his load onto her chest, before inviting Catherine to come down on her knees and help clean her off with her tongue. As always, Catherine uses her tongue with glee. I do like that about her.

And a job well done, I would think, and the girls are straight on to cleaning up. It would not do to have the girls messy for long.

I position my cockhead at Aisha’s pussy lips and begin to thrust in and out of her. Glancing over at Master Bob Harkins, I grunt between my exertions, “I trust that met your expectations?”

My voice startles him: he seemed to have forgotten I was there. His eyes widen when he sees what I am doing to Aisha, and his surprise makes me give further thought to the differences here: Even Master Robert had occasionally appeared at Stan’s on auction day, so surely this Bob Harkins enjoyed a little group sex as well?

In any case, he looks down at Catherine licking around Teresa’s right nipple, and nods back at me like a prep-school boy. So strange: It seems he hardly even allows himself to breathe before he buckles up his pants and leaves the room. Maybe he had never had sex at all? What a horrible thought to contemplate.

Never mind that now. I shrug and increase my pace with Aisha, and in response she increases the volume of her moaning, as was her habit.

This version of Aisha’s body did seem slightly different from what I was used to: as she unbuttoned her top, I could see that her muscles that weren’t as taught, and her skin did seem noticeably less sun-exposed. Her hair, as well as that of Teresa’s and Catherine’s, had a definite sheen to it that I’ve never noticed before: I’d have to compare once we were back in our own bodies.

The novelty was intriguing if I am being honest, but without the candle stimulants I could see it becoming mundane rapidly. It is something of a shock as I realize my arms are getting tired as I pummel her against the wall.

Aisha starts breathing in that special gasping, cooing way she does when she’s getting close to orgasm, and I feel her starting to spasm in my arms. I’m well on the way to my own climax when a thought strikes me out of the blue: if no one here is in the habit of fucking girls… do they even have contraception here? Or am I about to complicate things even further?

With a sigh and much to Aisha’s displeasure, I put her back on her feet, and withdraw my cock out of her pussy as her gripping muscles try to stop me.

“Teresa,” I call, gesturing at my feet. She’s on her knees in a flash, swallowing me whole as I diddle Aisha’s clit through the remainder of her spasms. Her tongue starts lapping at my balls even as she deep-throats me. With such attention it doesn’t take me long before I grab her hair and I’m exploding down Teresa’s throat.

There. Just a moment longer, and I start to come down from the height of orgasm.

Teresa keeps massaging my cockhead with her tongue gently, milking the last of my cum out of my dick, which pops out of her mouth. She swallows, and licks her lips.

That is when we notice Master Stan in the doorway to the storeroom, jaw open.

“What. The. Fuck?” He says, eyes bouncing from Catherine’s breasts to Teresa’s breasts, to Aisha, leaning against the wall, one hand tweaking her nipple, still casually fingering herself with the other. His expression is somewhere between disgust and fascination.

I try to read his face, not sure what to do. People here did seem quite befuddled by the prospect of public sex. Almost like something from the history books. Perhaps we had been too loud.

I decide the best approach is be reasonable: “We’re just having a little orgy, Master Stan. Is anything wrong?”

“Just having… Is anything…?” he doesn’t finish either sentence. He barely manages to get the next words out: “give me one good reason I shouldn’t call the cops…?”

I nod down at Teresa, who catches my meaning and starts knee-walking her way over to him, hands caressing her breasts artfully.

“Well,” she begins. “I’m sure I can make you feel better.”

Her hand is swatted away as she reaches for his belt buckle. He looks practically apoplectic.

I’m married!” he says, agony on his face.

Admittedly I am confused at this point. He clearly wanted to fuck her face with gusto. And yet he wasn’t moving to do so. Instead, the anger was crystalizing on his face.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you lot, but because I’ve known you all since you were little, I’m not going to call the cops. I still need you to get the hell out of my diner.”

“Okay.” I say, looking for my pants where I’d dropped them. “You mind if we just…”

“Get out, right now,” he cuts me off. His face is livid.

“Right girls, you heard the man.” I take Aisha by the hand, nod at Teresa and Catherine, moving to lead them past him.

Stan sees me naked from the waist down and does a double take. “What? No! Get dressed and then get out.”

At my confusion he huffs and starts walking back to the main area of the diner. “If you’re still here in a minute, I’m calling your parents.”

I shrug (what would my father care about this?) but I hurry over to my denim and put it on as fast as I can. No sense in provoking this version of Master Stan any further, so once we’ve finished dressing, we exit out the back door of the diner.

* * *

It’s as we are approaching the front door of my house that we hear the noise again, and upon walking over the threshold, feel the familiar tingle. Turning around, I see my girls are back in their character lingerie again, much to their relief.

Looking through the house, I see the newspaper is right where I left it, and the kitchen is immaculately clean as always. Nothing untoward has happened here, it seems.

In my shirt pocket, I notice I do have one of Master Stan’s amateur candles. So it seems the other versions of us stayed in Stan’s diner for the orgy. Hopefully they hadn’t ruined my reputation too inescapably. I would have be careful discussing this Master Lucas the next time I saw him. I best pretend I was still suffering the after-effects of my vision.

That is when the doorbell goes. My girls move out of the way so I can open it.

It must be said that the man at the door has a rather smug grin on his face. “Did you enjoy your trip Master Joshua?” he says.

“Come in, Master Robert,” I reply with a sigh. “You have my attention.”