The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I woke to Callie nuzzling my neck from behind, one long, lithe, strong leg draped over my waist, her graceful foot very lightly brushing me. I was rock hard. My neck, my earlobe, her teeth nibbling, her tongue, her lips. To wake like this is one of my biggest fantasies ... something like it only happened to me once before, with Joanna not long after we first shared a bed, and I’d been completely out of my head, both of us coming hard. I groaned to remember.

“Fuck me like an animal,” Callie whispered, my earlobe between her teeth, and my mind just fell away. She came once, twice, three times as I drove into her, each time harder than the last, once missionary, once with her beautiful long legs over my shoulders, the last time with me behind past her magnificent bottom, but for me it was like I’d been forbidden. She was wearing some kind of flexible cord like a long strip of supple leather around her wrist and forearm, not something I’d seen before.

“Stop, please, oh goddess, stop,” she said, gasping. “Bob, honey, that’s so good.” She moved forward, me sliding out of her, then rolled me over.

She began unwrapping the cord from her forearm. “Morgan gave this to me last night, that new girl of yours is quite the firecracker.” With one end still tied to her wrist, she started wrapping the other around the base of my cock, my balls, criss-crossing, figure eights, the other end still around her wrist. She tugged it, tugged me, and goddess, I felt it through my whole body ... she literally had me by the balls, and I was loving every moment. She came closer, began teasing the tip of my cock with her tongue, then her lips, suction inside her mouth, and then her hands, her thumbs stroking my frenulum in gentle circular alternating motions, more nibbles, up and down me, like she’d been taking lessons from Jess and Dani both. She tugged again, harder, then reared up and turned around, lowered herself slowly, her beautiful sex coming ever so slowly closer to my waiting, eager mouth. I felt her lips and tongue and teeth on my cock again, one of her arms above her, tugging ... it reminded me of her on a horse, riding one-handed the way she so effortlessly could, one-handed like I was a rodeo bronco. She finally let me kiss her, lick her, lapping, worshipping, adoring my beautiful Callie.

“Oh Bob,” she gasped, shuddering. Her awareness was in me and mine in her; I knew so well what she liked best just as she knew me, and I was getting closer to the edge every moment.

“We might have to try this with Morgan,” she said, and with that thought my orgasm became inevitable, me holding back as long as I could because I knew this was going to be even more special than usual, and also because I wanted to save it until Callie came twice more; I could feel both peaks on their way. She cried out, her tears falling onto me, tugging me again. I clutched her beautiful, supple, warm soft firm cheeks, to my mind the absolute best butt in the world, squeezing hard with my hands, my thumbs over her hips, squeezing as hard as I ever had, my nose on her perineum, suction in her passage, and then my tongue was on her clit. She yelped and bucked and if she had more breath in her lungs she might’ve screamed, and then I came in her mouth as she was coming in mine. It went on and on, like an out-of-body experience, and goddess, it was glorious.

She rolled off me, batted the back of her hand against my stomach, hooked an ankle around the back of my head and sat up using that as leverage, smiling at me. Then she spun around on her wonderful ass, lay down next to me, kissed me deep. She still had a taste of me in her mouth.

“I love you,” she said, smiling. I put my arms around her, holding her tight, but gently.

“I love you, my beautiful Callie,” I said, our tastes mingled in my mouth.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“I can still feel something, I think it came from the chocolate, but something also happened with Mike’s cognac. Am I the only one?”

“It was the most delicious dessert I’ve ever tasted,” she said, “but whatever it did to you doesn’t seem to have happened to me.”

“I don’t know that I want to share you with Morgan,” I said. “She might be a creative little tart in bed, but she said she’s a virgin, and it’s been too long since it was just you and me, and that’s all I really want.”

“You didn’t seem to mind with Dani yesterday,” she said, smiling.

I smiled back. “Callie, my love, you love Dani, too, and Jess, and Kelsey and Stu.”

“And Taylor,” Callie said, the ghost of a smile still on her face. I would smile that way for the rest of my life every time I remembered Taylor, even as I mourned her. I told Callie everything that happened with Morgan in her car.

“I think the real reason Mike invited you and Mariano to his study was so Grace could grill me,” she said. “She didn’t expect me, didn’t expect Mariano, it’s like she thought she knew when and how you would come here, but I was a surprise, our relationship a kind of ... impediment. She was relentless.”

“She reminded me of someone when I first met her,” I said. “I still haven’t figured out who, but then Morgan does, too.”

“She reminds me of Sati,” Callie said.

I thought about that, recalling that Morgan had reminded me of Sati. “I can see it,” I said. “You know how I have this kind of extrasense, that helps me know things I shouldn’t, either from the world around me or from someone else’s inner thoughts, feelings.”

“It’s the only thing you haven’t been able to teach us,” she said.

“I think Sati got it, or at least some of it while she was with me, but then when I first came to Newberry, she had me to herself for two full days, and those days were pretty intense. I was nowhere near being all there.”

“Grace is a really intense woman,” Callie said. “Mike and Joe and Morgan and even Kevin, in his way ... when I’m with you I can usually sense some of what goes on inside other people, but I got absolutely nothing from Grace or Morgan or Joe.”

“I didn’t really try, though at one point I felt like I could with Mike,” I said. “But I also felt like if I did, someone else would know. I felt something like that when we sent energy to Dani and Jess from Shasta ... I don’t think we should do anything like that again.”

“We should shower,” Callie said. “You were pretty out of it, but Morgan said breakfast would be at 8, and it’s already 7:30.”

“You first,” I said. “I’m still enjoying this beautiful afterglow.”

“Together, dummy,” she said, and slapped my belly. “It’s not too late to get lucky again.”

We didn’t, there wasn’t time, but we managed to straggle to the front door of Morgan’s house with Mariano by 7:55, all cleaned up. A man in clothes like the ones James wore last night opened it no more than three seconds after we rang the bell, his eyes down.

“Please come in,” he said, and we did. Wicker baskets with each of our names on them were in the entry, the same socks and shoes we’d worn last night, though Callie’s basket was covered and seemed more full than mine or Mariano’s.

Morgan joined us almost as soon as we changed shoes and socks, and what she was dressed in was amazing. A brief chemise in black, green, bright yellow, sunrise orange, a bronze like dark caramel in the pattern of a young sunflower. A different pair of heeled ghillies, just a little eyeliner and lip gloss, the first makeup I’d noticed on her, bronze toenail polish reminiscent of her hair but metallic with more gold, nothing evident on the close-trimmed nails of her small fingers. The sunflower pattern was hard to look away from, it drew the eyes in, spirals radiating in both directions from its center between her navel and solar plexus, the center subtly shiny. Then there was the bee on her hip, right where it flowed into her trim belly, suggesting so much, a really quite realistic-looking bee except it was larger than any bee ever. She must’ve been wearing a different bra than yesterday, because this chemise, more form-fitting than last night’s peasant blouse, showed her shapely breasts to much better effect. She saw my gaze brush across them and her amazing nipples hardened instantly, the erect portion easily a centimeter wide, half again as long, and tilted up like an invitation. Callie took my hand and squeezed. My head was spinning again.

“Morgan,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “is this your design? It looks wonderful on you. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Morgan shivered. Or maybe it was a shudder. She smiled, I think trying to put herself together just as I was, and a few moments later when her shivering was done, she actually curtsied. Very, very gracefully.

“I had help,” she said. “I sketched the design, I call it ‘Surya’, but I’m not that kind of artist so we found someone who was. He helped me translate my sketches to this pattern. Then we worked with a dress shop to translate the design into just the right fabrics, just the right proportions.”

She twirled, her hands above her head, her hem rising. If she were wearing underwear, she wasn’t wearing much. The only reason I didn’t think she had the best ass in the world at that moment was because the woman who I thought did, my beautiful Callie, was holding my hand. Even so, Morgan should’ve been in anyone’s top 5, not just mine. The only thing keeping her hem from revealing even more in that twirl was a woven brocade bronze-colored belt, snug around her hips.

“People tell me I have good taste in clothes,” Morgan said.

“You absolutely do,” Callie said. I might’ve said something, but I was still spinning from Morgan’s twirl. Or maybe it was just Morgan.

“You need new clothes,” Morgan said, pointing at me, and then at Mariano. “I want to pick something out for you before you leave me for ... Mexico.” She was looking at just me now. “Your shirts don’t fit, like they were made for a different man, and, well ... you have much too good a physique to hide,” and then she was shivering again.

“You are a very talented woman,” I said, which seemed to intensify her shivers and she closed her eyes, and as her shiver died away she smiled, just for me, as if to say I had no idea how right I was, and as she saw me realize that, she smiled more, with a slight turn of her head and just a little blink.

They had a chef. Maybe they had more than one, but whoever was working this morning made one of the top-two Italian breakfast scrambles I’d ever had in my life. I’ve tried, but this was better than anything I’ve made myself, and I said so. The chef came out to shake my hand after Grace relayed my compliments. He seemed very pleased indeed but his eyes didn’t meet mine.

“I buy most of my clothes at an outdoor equipment co-op,” I said to Morgan. We were pushing back in our chairs.

“I know a place like that, a really good place, and it’s on the way,” she said.

Joe and Kevin rose. Joe had a paid internship at a commercial real estate developer’s executive office. He said his goodbyes.

“Bob, Mariano, will you join me in my study?” Mike said.

We did. He had a basket of flip phones, still in their packaging. He gave one to Mariano and two to me.

“These’ll work on both sides of the border,” he said. “I had one of my assistants bring them earlier this morning. One for Callie, if she needs it.” I nodded.

“Is there a good place here for me to call?” I asked.

Mike and Mariano left me alone in Mike’s study, Mike saying his goodbyes and wishing us a safe journey. I used the phone I bought in Nevada City to call one number after another, all the numbers I’d called from the car yesterday plus two more I’d remembered since then. There was no answer at any of them. It was hard without my address book—I’ve gotten out of the habit of memorizing numbers. Then I thought of one of our neighbors, the neighborhood matriarch who knows most things that go on there. She’s lived there a lot longer than we have. I called information and got her number.

“Pat,” I said when she answered, the first person besides Morgan that I’d managed to contact for months. “It’s Bob, your neighbor. I’ve been completely out of it for a few months, it’s a long story, a kind of amnesia, but I came out of it yesterday and I haven’t been able to reach Joanna or Rowan, or really anyone until just now.”

Pat took a long breath. “Bob, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. Joanna moved. Things got really strange for her two months ago.”

“Do you know how to reach her?”

“I can leave a message, but don’t know when she’ll get back to me.”

“Can you give me her number?”

“She’s the one who needs to make that decision,” Pat said.

Uh oh ... that didn’t sound good. “Is she OK? And the kids?” I asked.

Pat paused, another thing that didn’t feel good. “I’m going to let her answer those kinds of questions,” she said, “in her own time. Please don’t ask around here until she contacts you. She will when she’s ready.”

“Thank you very much for letting me know,” I said, an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, and gave her the number of the phone Mike had given me. Why was I going to Mexico? I should be going home.

“I wouldn’t expect a call back until the middle of next week,” she said.

“Thanks, Pat ... I hope you’ve been well.”

“I’m OK, but we’re all still shaken up by everything that happened the day you disappeared, and then ... later.”

“Can you tell me anything about that?”

“I’ll give your message to Joanna,” she said. “I’m glad you’re doing better, but for now, please stay away.” She hung up.

I returned to the sitting room. Grace, Callie, Morgan, and Mariano were chatting over tea and coffee and finger sandwiches. Something in my expression must’ve been the exact opposite of a poker face because Callie got up as soon as she saw me and hurried over for a close hug. Morgan followed a few seconds later and put a hand on my shoulder.

“I was able to reach a neighbor,” I said, trying to keep my breaths even. “She wouldn’t tell me much, but asked me to stay away until she hears back from my wife.”

Callie and I untangled. Grace took one of my hands between hers and then got an interesting expression on her face, like she’d sensed something in me. She stepped closer. It almost seemed like she was sniffing. I took a moment to let myself feel Callie’s perception that Grace reminded her of Sati, and the moment was all it took ... yes, Callie had not only nailed the resemblance, Grace was an actual goddess like Sati, which would make Morgan a demigoddess. Grace’s eyes widened as she saw me process it.

“You and your friends live in interesting times,” she said, her eyes in mine. The intensity of Morgan’s eyes, and her gaze, had come from this woman right here.

“You’ve been very hospitable, Grace ... these have been difficult months but my friends have helped me grow through it, I’ve been so fortunate. I wish nothing but blessings on you and your family, and I thank you so much for understanding, and for last night and this morning.”

She smiled, angling her head, then Morgan took my arm and wound her other arm around Callie’s waist, walking us to the entry with Grace where four packages awaited, three gift bags that had our names on them plus a picnic basket. Mariano’s and my bags held only our socks, which had somehow been washed and dried since we came in before breakfast.

“For your socks and mocs, as keepsakes, may they keep you warm and comfortable for many years,” Morgan said, then while Mariano and I changed back into our usual socks and shoes, we put her gifts into the bags. She leaned in close to Callie and opened her bag so they could peek in together. I would learn more later, but heard Morgan’s whisper: “You can wear the laces like I do or detach them,” Morgan whispered, “either way Bob’s eyes will bug out of his head when he sees you in these, you have absolutely breathtaking legs.”

“We had chef make something with the leftovers you brought from the restaurant last night,” Grace said. “It should be good for the road. I hope you don’t mind that we kept some, I had a taste myself and it was as good as Morgan said. Perhaps we can visit together, another time.”

“They also cater, Mom,” Morgan said, which made Grace smile. They whispered to each other for a few moments.

Grace offered her hand and cheek to each of us; we kissed one and air-kissed the other.

“Safe travels,” Grace said as we opened the door and reemerged into brilliant SoCal sunshine.

Morgan’s cabrio top was down. “Will you drive with me again?” she asked. I looked to Callie, who nodded.

Morgan smiled at me, a remarkably sensuous smile, then turned to Callie.

“Thank you,” she said, gave Callie a kiss on the cheek, then led Callie and Mariano out her driveway, through the Hills of Beverly, down Santa Monica Boulevard to the freeway. It was past 9:15 and Friday traffic was lightening, but it helped to use the carpool lanes. We headed south for a few miles, exited and parked in a small odd-shaped lot near the freeway. Inside, the store looked a lot like my usual place in Canada, though smaller. Morgan led us to the menswear and walked through like she owned it, picking out three shirts for me within a minute, put her hand on my arm, pointed to the changing rooms.

“Show me each one,” she said, and kissed me on the cheek.

Then she did the same for Mariano, who also needed pants.

I emerged from the dressing room wearing a dark blue striped shirt. Morgan walked to me, placed her hand on my stomach and seemed to totter, her breath drawing in sharply.

“Isn’t that nicer?” she asked, her eyes half closed.

“It looks good on you,” Callie said, nodding in approval. “Next best thing to custom.”

“Try another,” Morgan said.

Mariano and I emerged from our dressing rooms at about the same time, him sporting new pants as well as a new shirt.

Morgan evaluated Mariano first, had him turn around, then me. Her fingers traced on my shoulder.

“Good,” she said. “Next.”

When I reemerged, she held a brimmed hat, put it on my head, her other hand on my shoulder. She frowned.

“The hat’s good but the shirt doesn’t fit,” she said.

“It feels OK to ...” I began.

“Quiet,” she said. “My gift, my rules. You’ll see.”

Callie found a women’s hat similar to the one Morgan picked out for me.

“Beautiful,” Morgan said, beaming.

I found a nylon belt with Kokopelli figures on it, and Morgan saw it.

“Nice,” she said, “but this one’s better,” and handed me one made from dyed canvas with two metal loops, also a pair of expedition pants in a smaller size than the ones I was wearing, which were a little loose since I’d reshaped my body. That’d been just two mornings ago.

Three shirts, swim trunks, a pair of pants and thermal briefs for me, some of which I hadn’t even tried on, plus a hat matching Callie’s and several changes of clothes for Mariano, all in barely 20 minutes. Morgan insisted on paying.

“You’re good,” I said to her.

“You have no idea,” she whispered into my ear.

“Now, lunch,” Morgan said. “Follow me,” she said to Callie. It was 10:00 AM, and we’d finished breakfast just an hour and a half ago. “You’ll like this place.”

We drove maybe half a mile. A little restaurant in its own older building on a corner, surrounded by much larger, newer places. It was filling up rapidly even though I could see from the posted hours that it’d just opened.

“Four steak burgers, medium rare, with hickory sauce and the Oregon cheddar,” Morgan said when we reached the counter. “Two orders of fries.” She paid. Cash. It looked like they didn’t take anything else.

By the time we ordered there were no more open seats in the place, and the line was out the door.

It was one of the best burgers I’d ever tasted, cooked perfectly, the sauce spicy. Morgan ate less than half of hers, offering me the rest, and I was happy to finish it. Some of the sauce must’ve escaped my mouth because Morgan licked it from my cheek and then kissed me on the lips, her tongue depositing that sauce back on mine. A quick kiss, expert, deep and to the point. I was glad to be sitting down.

“Next time we’ll get pie,” she said, smiling.

“Do you know a good wine shop that might also have tequila?” I asked her, realizing just afterward that Morgan was still a few months shy of 21.

“So many questions,” she said, her smile like a small warm sun, and we drove back to the freeway. She pulled into an adjacent elevated lot and led us into one of the best wine shops I’d ever seen. While she checked traffic on her iPhone, I found my favorite Canadian reisling and one of Oregon’s best pinot noirs, remembrances from the best homes I’d ever known, plus an insulated travel bag that would keep both cool and a bottle of añejo that I carried out separately. Callie had to pay because I had no way to. I presented the bag to Morgan as we reached our cars.

“For your parents, and for you,” I said. “You’ve been incredibly hospitable.”

Morgan blushed deeply, which seemed to embarrass her, but I sensed something more ... that blush only partially concealed a sudden flush of sexual arousal that was making her wobble on her feet. She reached her hands around my neck, partly to steady herself. My arms around her, my nose in her beautiful hair, I could smell her arousal and it was heady indeed.

“I don’t know how you’re doing this to me,” she whispered, then backed away. “My parents and I thank you very much,” she said, her voice steadier, her smile gracious. “The 405 is still bad, especially in Orange County. We’ll take the desert.”

We were on the Pomona Freeway 20 minutes later, Morgan chatting gaily, her hand reaching often for light, brief touches. An hour later we turned south onto the Corona Freeway, then exited immediately.

“One more stop,” she said. “I love the breadsticks.” It was an Italian fast-food place I’d heard of once, somewhere. After she ordered, everyone else used the rest rooms, and when Mariano emerged I took my turn. The breadsticks were ready in two bags by the time I came out, and of course they were good, thick and soft and butter-laden and fresh if not a bit saltier than I would’ve preferred.

“You have excellent taste in all things,” I said to Morgan as we reached her convertible.

“Just wait,” she whispered back.

Corona Freeway, Riverside Freeway, then I-15, traffic lighter and lighter as we continued. Nature began to emerge through all the development. Morgan’s hair was in a ponytail but her hair was long enough that the tips of that ponytail sometimes whipped around and under her sunglasses.

“Would you take the wheel for a moment?” she asked me.

My hand on the wheel, Morgan reached behind, breasts pushing forward and filling her chemise, and deftly placed a second restraint lower on her ponytail. She must’ve known I would notice because her astonishing nipples grew fully erect almost immediately, fuzzing my thoughts. She had wonderful breasts. She placed her hand lightly on mine to take the wheel back, then moved her hand to lightly caress my leg.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said. “Our parents arranged it. He’s Swiss, from an old banking family, very ... suitable. He’s nice enough, maybe a little self-absorbed, but the Swiss aren’t exactly open to outsiders, and his family is a bit ... cold. We have a chalet there, in Gstaad, that I’ve used as a studio. I was thinking of spending time there this summer and maybe for a few months more if I decide to take a semester off. It’s gorgeous, and very private. You and Callie should come ... visit.” She actually batted her eyes.

Time seemed to slow down for me, as it had in Mike’s study last night, centered around a point on my forehead. It felt like something was trying to get into me, or out. Last night, in Mike’s study, it’d been just above my eyebrows, but this morning it was a little higher. I reached for another breadstick. Morgan was looking at me. She took my hand, guided the breadstick to her mouth, me still holding it. What her hand could do to a shift knob was nothing compared to what her mouth, lips and tongue and teeth, did to that breadstick. My breath got a little ragged, and when she licked and then sucked my fingers where they’d held the breadstick it was like my dick would burn a hole through my pants. She smiled lasciviously at me, licking her lips.

“I had some upgrades installed for this car,” she said. “It can self-drive. It works well but isn’t fully tested, so they don’t sell it yet. I wouldn’t trust it in traffic, but here, on a straight road in the desert, with you for just a few minutes, I feel like taking a chance.”

Oh dear. It was just last night that I didn’t want this to go any further. Morgan spun a dial on the console between us, navigated to the self-driving system on the dash display, unstrapped her seatbelt and turned toward me, threw her left leg over me. I was now face to face, up close and personal with another of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen in my life, already as hard as I’d ever been, and she was straddling my lap in an expensive experimental driverless convertible on an empty Interstate in the California desert. Actually I wasn’t so much face to face as I was faced with the beautiful sunflower pattern of her chemise, a pattern double-spiraling from her torso that would’ve been difficult to look away from even under less remarkable circumstances. And then there were her breasts, those wondrous nipples poking out from that chemise, not so much interrupting its induction as harmonizing with it. She unstrapped my seatbelt, pulled my hips forward and raised her chemise so she could join us below, the bulge in my pants between her moist outer lips through her panties, then she grabbed the back of my head with both hands and drew my face over her shoulder, pulling her beautiful, fragrant copper hair over my eyes while she rocked her clit on my shaft.

My vision was completely covered, my senses overwhelmed. She squirmed in a way I knew well from her and several other of my favorite women in the world, and then she was moaning until, on her edge, she raised herself on me, buried my head between those shapely outthrust breasts, thrust her erect clit into my breastbone and even as hard as I was I wasn’t going to be satisfied this way even if Morgan ... was. Her moan rose in pitch and volume to a fucking scream.

A car pulled up alongside. The passenger side window unrolled, Mariano reclining so Callie could see in better.

“Really?” Callie shouted over the wind.

It took half a minute for Morgan’s pleasure to run its course before she whispered “I like her” into my ear.

“Me too,” I said.

“I don’t what know what it is about you,” Morgan said, “all I know is I want more.”

“How attached are you to your virginity?” I asked. She sat up.

“No,” she said, as simply as anything could be said.

She rolled back into her seat, over the gearshift, resumed toying with it, the same way it felt like she was toying with me. I was deeply conflicted and incredibly aroused but suddenly Morgan was on a completely different plane.

“Just asking,” I said. “Life is a negotiation, and we don’t know unless we ask.”

She slowly reached a hand between my legs, touching my straining, leaking cock through my pants with the tip of a single index finger.

“Come,” she said, and it was like she pulled a trigger and my whole body was a gun; a moment later I was trying to hold myself back but that just made it worse or in this case better because while my eyes searched frantically for something to soak up the mess I was about to make, I came in my pants, hard, copiously, groaning, straining. This was supposed to be something I’d gotten good at managing. My eyes were closing.

“Relax into it,” Morgan said, and I did. “Be still and let it happen,” and I became still. I wasn’t sure if it was because she told me to or whether it was just the right thing to do because within a few moments I was completely helpless to the increasingly out-of-body sensation, soaring with it, in surging ecstasy for the second time today.

“See?” Morgan asked, as the sensation continued. It felt a little like it had with Mari, where she’d prolonged my orgasm for minutes on end, and as I felt that, some kind of inhibition fell away even though Morgan couldn’t have been aware of it, because I hadn’t felt anything like this since Mari, even with all the perfect women of Newberry. This time it went on for a little less than a minute.

“You’re going to have to clean up without getting any of it onto my car,” Morgan said when my eyes finally opened again. “Good thing you have extra clothes.” She was smiling.

Morgan had paper napkins and cloth and water between her glovebox and console, and it was a good thing traffic on the Interstate was so light because I had to get completely naked to clean myself up while keeping any of my copious issue from touching Morgan’s car, completely open to the elements. Morgan made appreciative sounds, her hand caressing different parts of my body as I moved. I realized later that I could have cleaned everything up with magic, which would’ve been a lot less trouble, but then I would’ve had to show her something of what I was capable of, and ... I couldn’t have appreciated her touch.

“Much better,” she said when I was finally done changing, all the napkins and wet cloths I’d used to clean myself rolled up in the pants I’d made such a mess in. Not far behind us, Callie and Mariano were cheering and applauding.

“Your new clothes look so much better than your old things,” Morgan said. “You look like a demigod.”

“I’m no demigod,” I told her.

“Maybe not,” she said. “But my mother told me just before we left the house that you know what she is, and what my brothers and I are.”

“Your mother is a very perceptive woman,” I said. “I seem to be surrounded by perceptive women, not that I’m ungrateful.”

“Tell me about Setenaya,” she said.

I looked at her. “What do you know about Setenaya?” I asked, and Morgan hesitated, her face clouding.

“She’s not someone my mother told me much about. I know they go way back, way way back, and they aren’t exactly friendly. Setenaya is wise and clever like my mother, but more ambitious. I don’t know about her temper, but I know you do NOT want to get on MY mother’s bad side.“

“When I saw you in the restaurant, you reminded me of Setenaya,” I said. “And so did your mother, and Callie sensed that even more clearly. As we were saying our goodbyes, it all sort of fell into place. We knew Setenaya as Sati, and she, and you, are the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”

Morgan shivered, her eyes half-closing. I rested a hand on the wheel, just in case.

“She’s pregnant. With my child,” I said.

Morgan’s eyes struggled open. I wondered if telling her that had been a bad idea.

“Well, then I guess you’d better get used to having a demigod or demigoddess around,” she said, groggily, and I hadn’t ever thought of it that way before. She put her hand on mine. I nodded. My life had gotten so strange.

We passed through Escondido and San Diego and Chula Vista and San Ysidro, and then we were at the border. We pulled into a parking lot, Morgan got out of the car before I could open her door and she pulled me close, her warm breasts squashing into me through that beautiful chemise. She collapsed into my arms, or maybe ‘swooned’ would be a better word. I held her up, she was so light, so slender, toned but so delicate-seeming and yet so ... she was moving, wriggling, and I knew well what was happening, and this insistent pressure in my forehead kept ... insisting. Her amazing nipples were thrusting into my chest like they had a purpose of their own, the same chest she’d had her hands on several times already today, with and without a shirt. She couldn’t stand on her own, and, the back of one of my wrists under her bottom to keep her upright even as I felt a little of the disorientation from her chocolate last night return, she mewed and came again, collapsing further into me. I have to say, I’d never felt as large and powerful as I did in that moment, my reshaped augmented body keeping this slight, slender, incredibly beautiful young orgasming demigoddess from collapsing at my feet. With that much contact it was impossible to not notice that her panties were a g-string and she was totally rocking it.

It took a minute, but Morgan got her feet back under her, then gave me an uncharacteristically shy, grateful smile and a kiss on both cheeks like the French do, whispering “How do you do that?” and gave me a lingering lover’s kiss, all in a parking lot at the border crossing, just outside the pedestrian entrance, which was packed. Callie and Mariano said their goodbyes.

“Gstaad,” Morgan said, just before getting back into her car. “Come see me.”

We crossed the border into Tijuana, Mariano and me without ID, but Obi-Wan taught us well. The restaurant where we ate last night had another branch here and we sought it out amongst all Chinese restaurants. It was just 2:30 PM and we’d already eaten two meals plus a nice snack, but who’s counting when the food is this good? Mariano reacted to his pulque the same way he had last night.

“What’s Gstaad?” Callie asked while Mariano was away. I filled her in on everything that happened with Morgan.

“I like her,” Callie said, “she seems sweet, innocent and goodhearted like Taylor to say nothing of knockout beautiful and dynamite sexy, I know you’ve noticed at least that much about her, but I’m not sure about Grace ... I think she wants something she’s not telling us, and knowing she has some sort of relationship with Sati is a huge red flag, even if they aren’t friendly.”

“It’s weird that she seems so accepting of me,” I said. “I would expect her, and Mike, to be more protective.”

“That’s another red flag,” she said. “I also don’t know how I feel about sharing you again.”

I thought of Joanna, and Callie saw it in my face.

“You know I don’t mean your wife,” she said softly. I got up and came around the table to sit next to her, put my arm around her, kissed her. She lay her head on my shoulder.

“That dizzy business from Morgan’s dessert is also weird,” Callie said.

“I hadn’t felt it since this morning,” I said, “though that thing from when I first tasted the cognac in Mike’s study has come back a few times, and seems to be getting stronger. I don’t know if they’re related.”

Mariano returned, sat across from Callie. “Jess did something to me,” he said. “I wasn’t supposed to remember until it happened three times, and now it has. You saved my life, she saved it twice, and she’s still doing it. I’m so grateful to have met all of you, and I’m so grateful you took me in.”

We ordered a lot less food than last night ... we still had leftovers from Morgan’s house, and now I was starting to wonder whether we would ever have a chance to eat them—everywhere we turned it seemed there was more delicious food. We skipped the carnitas and tortilla soup but Mariano ordered another bowl of chapulines, which Callie still couldn’t bring herself to taste, and that reminded me of Morgan. Some things, especially the cotija, were even better than last night. At 3:45 we departed with another bag of leftovers and filled up on gasoline, which was a lot more expensive than the last time I’d been here 20 years ago.

The highway went past Tecate and Mexicali, never more than a few miles from the border, Mariano driving while I read through more of my grimoire, Callie sitting next to me in the back. The new pages visible to me weren’t readable to her, though some pages I’d already understood and communicated knowledge of were. I would hand the book to her while I puzzled over one thing or another, deciphering maybe two more pages before Mariano turned south into farmland, the roads rapidly deteriorating. Callie had already made reservations for us to stay at a resort in Puerto Peñasco tonight and a house on the playa near Guaymas tomorrow. 40 miles of pitted roads past small farms and houses on land irrigated by what remained of the Colorado River, then into the Sonoran desert past what’d once been the river delta to the Gulf of California, the Sea of Cortez, desert the color of sand to the left and turquoise sea to the right, the beautiful sea and sky reminding me of Morgan’s intense eyes. I was too distracted by the sights and experience of this new place to keep focused on my grimoire, but just as they had when I was still back home, these new experiences helped form connections in my mind as nature’s mysteries slowly unveiled.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic,” I said. “I’ve read it many times and even repeated it myself, but I’m thinking Agatha Christie said it better 40 years earlier: ‘The supernatural is only the natural of which the laws are not yet understood.’”

Callie smiled, said “Better late than never,” and kissed me, which rapidly became us making out in the back seat.

“¡Niños, No sean picaros!” Mariano said, peering at us through the rear-view mirror, but he was smiling, and then he turned the mirror away.

Callie giggled, a sound I’d never heard from her before. “Not quite like in Morgan’s Beemer, is it?”

“Hey, she got three in the past 24 hours ... you got SIX.” We smiled at each other and for the first time since before the dark mage, Callie’s smile lit up her entire face, the way it used to with me, part of the reason I fell in love with her in the first place. It made me so glad to see again.

We had sandwiches in the car for dinner, the ones Grace’s chef made from last night’s dinner, and they were wonderful. The sun set and we reached Puerto Peñasco as it was getting dark. The resort was as lovely as any resort should be, but the neighborhood was more varied—modest improvised homes just outside walls around lavish villas. Our resort was gated and had high walls all around. Nearly everyone we saw inside who wasn’t wearing a uniform was light-skinned, well-coiffed, and spoke English.

“I thought this was MY country,” Mariano muttered. “Who let all these gringos in?“

“Where’s a good place in the neighborhood for breakfast?” I asked the concierge, and as he started to answer, I added “where the locals eat, not the tourists.” He had darker skin like Mariano, who’d come over to stand beside me, listening. He and the concierge shared a glance, Mariano nodding to him.

“I know a place,” the concierge said, smiling, and wrote an address in the margin of a brochure for an upscale cantina.

Callie had reserved us a nice two-bedroom suite and we let a porter carry our bags, not that we had much. The suite didn’t include a washer and dryer, so I asked the maid who’d accompanied us to wash my bundle of clothing from Morgan’s car.

“They’re a bit messy,” I said.

“We’ll take care of it, señor,” she said.

“Join me on the deck?” I asked Callie and Mariano after the porter and maid departed. “It’s elixir night.” We each brought swimsuits and I brought the bottle, which we got charged corkage for, but they provided shot glasses. They didn’t have pulque.

“By the pool,” Mariano said, his voice somewhat distant. Our resort was not waterfront ... it was three blocks away and about 1/4 the price. He found a chaise next to a little table, stuffed a napkin into his pants, and sat down.

“What is this drink?” he asked.

“We got it from Sati,” I said. “I don’t actually know what’s in it but it’s the most delicious liquid I’ve ever tasted, and it has certain ... health benefits.”

“Forgive me for asking, but I’m learning to be careful,” he said. “Jess taught me that.”

“Do you want to tell us?” Callie asked, gently.

“I think you know some already,” he said, “I only learned the rest in Tijuana ... Jess made sure I wouldn’t remember until this ... thing happened three times. It’s the same as in the dark man’s basement ... I get all sweaty and I feel her hands on me and then I ... fountain, and his curse gets pushed away for a few hours. Pulque might work better than tequila, but I don’t think it’ll be permanent, either.” It looked like he wanted to say something else, but also didn’t want to.

“Is there more?” Callie asked.

“Sí,” he said, sighing. “I’m not allowed to have sex with anyone until I’m cured, and I’m not allowed to ... touch myself. I thought about trying, but whenever Jess has told me I couldn’t do something, I haven’t been able to whether I wanted it or not even when she told me to try my best, so it’s easier this way.”

“Sneaky little minx,” Callie said, shaking her head in admiration. “She put a geas on you. I do so love that girl.”

I poured us each a shot. “To Jess,” I said, raising my glass, then filled my mouth, focused on making sense of the taste, which was as incredible as always. When Mariano took his own drink I could tell something was happening ... he started trembling, got a big bulge in his pants, and then groaned, almost like he was in pain, but we could both feel what was going on inside him and pain had little to do with it. He didn’t try to get up. His trembles turned to spasms, his hands gripping tight to the arms of his lounger, he groaned and then he was coming in his pants, hard, really hard, so hard he ... blacked out. Callie and I looked at each other. He was breathing, his body still trembling, and he felt better inside than since I first met him. Callie put her hand on his arm.

“Mariano,” she said softly, “are you OK?” I was looking around to see if anyone else noticed, but at this hour the pool was deserted. It was another 45 seconds before he stirred.

“Madre de Dios,” he whispered.

“Are you OK?” Callie asked him.

“I’m a mess,” he said, “but I feel better. What was in that drink again?”

“Sati wouldn’t say,” I said.

“I never asked,” Callie said.

“Good thing we brought swimsuits,” I said, “but I really don’t want to make this a habit.” I walked with Mariano to the restroom and he cleaned himself in a stall, then came out wearing his swimsuit. I’d changed into mine, and when we emerged I saw that Callie had changed into hers, a one-piece that admirably complemented her athletic figure. I’d never seen her wear it before, and of course she looked wonderful. I sat with her.

“We can go swimming another time,” she said. “It’s getting late and we have another full day of driving tomorrow, plus I have another idea what to do tonight.”

“We’re going back to the room,” I said to Mariano.

“Good,” Mariano said. “Mexican kids don’t swim. I never learned.”

“Do you want to learn?” Callie asked.

“Not tonight,” he said. “Maybe another time? I think you have other priorities.” He winked at her, grinning, and she got up and hugged him.

Our suite had two bedrooms, each with its own full bath, a family area between with a small kitchen, table and chairs, TV, comfy sofas. Callie and I went to our bathroom door together.

“You first,” she said, motioning to the large shower, joining me a few minutes later. I was already soapy.

“Brrr ...” she said, and turned the temperature up.

“Ouch,” I said. “I guess you like it hot.” She had her back to the water, her hands on me, soaping me up more, especially around my still-shaven groin, then she stepped into me and washed my back from in front of me, pressing herself close, which of course made me hard as hell. I began soaping her up, too.

“No coming in here,” she said. “This is just for warmsies.”

I lifted her from her wonderful ass, our soapy bodies slippery against each other, raised her up and lowered her until I was inside—it was so much easier with my augmented body, I was still trying to figure out what I was capable of, but it seemed to be a lot. She was already plenty wet. She wrapped her gorgeous long legs around me and moved herself up and down.

“Well, maybe I get to come, but you don’t,” she said. “Now hold still.” And between my support and her moving up and down on me, she worked herself into a real lather, eventually pressing herself down onto me the way she loves, and of course I love it too.

“I love you, Bob,” she said, gasping, her eyes deep in mine, then came, shuddering and moaning, her head moving to my shoulder as she worked herself harder. Eventually I lifted her off my still-hard self and we cleaned up that much more. She stayed longer to wash her beautiful long hair and told me not to come back in because she had a surprise for me. I dried off and went to our bedroom. She’d set out some candles and I lit them. I heard a hairdryer running in the bathroom. The candles were bright enough that I turned off the lights. I got into bed and under the covers, going to her side of the bed first because Joanna likes to get into a warm bed, and I figured Callie did, too. Time passed and I was starting to nod off. Eventually the door opened. Callie was wearing the same thigh-high hose with crotchless panties and garter that Morgan offered her last night, the same kind of barely-there heels Morgan wore herself, and a sort of sheer half-bra that supported her breasts without covering much. Her breasts looked bigger, much bigger. She had long fingernails, red lipstick and nail polish, longer wavy teased hair, and what looked like a ruby in her navel, basically Callie had figured out every fantasy I’d ever had about a woman and made them all come true. She closed the door behind her and fondled the doorknob between long fingers and nails. I started getting out of bed, but she pointed at me with one long-nailed finger.

I froze. I could feel her magic coursing through me, and I could choose to fight it, but honestly, if something like this ever happened to you, would you fight it? She walked over to the bed, a little unsteadily ... Morgan might be used to heels like these but I’d never seen Callie wear anything like them, and while she had a considerable natural grace, they were probably as precarious as they looked. In those heels she was over six feet tall, and those long, graceful, shapely legs I already loved looked even longer and more amazing than ever. She looked down at me, smiling, my cock tenting the covers, then sat down next to me, languorously, teasing me with her motion. She drew the covers away and rested her hand on my stomach, almost but not quite brushing my cock, those long nails pumping me like a cat.

“You don’t get to move,” she said softly. “You don’t get to talk, you don’t get to do anything at all unless I tell you to, and when I tell you to do something, or even motion it, you will do it immediately, without thinking. Do you understand?

“Yes mistress,” I said. Wait, where had that come from?

“Yes, goddess,” she said, digging her nails in. They were sharp, and it hurt.

“Yes goddess,” I agreed, wincing.

“I own you, slave,” she said.

“Yes, goddess.”

“I’ve changed a few things about myself, and you’re going to like them,” she said.

“Yes, goddess.”

“Don’t interrupt,” she said, digging her nails in again. I wanted to reply but now I couldn’t.

“Good slave,” she said, and I felt a wave of pleasure flow through me. “I’m stronger now, even stronger than you. You are helpless to my will. Tell me you’re my good slave.”

“I’m your good slave, goddess,” I said. She crooked one long-nailed finger at me and my body sat up. She raised her finger and I got out of bed while she sat down, legs apart, she moved her finger and I followed it until I was standing in front of her. She pointed down and I sank to my knees.

“Adore me, my sweet slave,” she said, and I crept closer. She put a leg over one of my shoulders and leaned in, clutching me to her. I focused on her pleasure through her crotchless panties, using everything I’d ever learned, everything I knew she loved best. “Mmmmmmmmm,” she crooned. She’d been lubricated before, but I could feel more trickling over my tongue now, tangy and fragrant. She ground herself into me, her heel jabbing into the middle of my back, her sounds coming closer and louder, tracking the excitement I could feel growing within her. Her clitoris hardened, her hands moved to rest on my shoulders, squeezing, soft and strong, so strong. I sucked her clit between my lips.

“AHHHHHHHH!” she shouted, convulsing, and a rush of euphoric disorientation swept over me. My eyes were open but there was no longer anything I could focus on, as if the room was flowing around me, nothing to make sense of but flowing colors, gentle motion, and her sex, me lapping and licking and pulsing until she removed her leg from my shoulder and pushed me away.

Her breathing slowed. She smiled at me, relaxed, content.

“You are so good, slave,” she said. Pleasure and spinning desire surged at the unexpected praise.

“Thank you Goddess,” I whispered.

“Soon, you will cum inside Me,” she said, “harder than you’ve ever cum before, and you will cum repeatedly, ecstatically, continuously. I will tell you when to begin cumming, and from now on any time I tell you to cum you will do so instantly, helplessly. You will build to an orgasm so great that it will make the rest of your life seem meaningless. Your cum will fuel my growing power, and as you give it freely and blissfully, you will rejoice to know that I am happy with you as I receive it. I will force all the cum from your body into mine, and when you have none left to give and you’ve cum and cum long beyond and I’ve finally instructed your orgasm to End, you will sleep and eat and regain your strength until I want more. Stand.” She snapped her fingers, and I felt the jolt and I stood.

“Tell Me you will serve Me joyfully, no matter what I ask.”

“I will serve you joyfully, Goddess, no matter what you ask,” I heard myself say.

“Tell Me again.” [SNAP] The tips of her sharp nails rested against my balls.

“I serve you joyfully, my Goddess, no matter what you ask.” Pleasure surged through me.

“Again.” [SNAP] She pinched Her nails together, just a little. A flush of pleasure followed.

Uhnh. “I serve you joyfully ... my Goddess, no matter ... what you ... ask.”

“Goooood,” she said, pinching tighter, and even through my fog of growing pain and tumbling ecstasy, the approval I heard in her voice triggered yet another massive wave of pleasure.

“You’re becoming so conditioned,” [PINCH and SNAP]

“So responsive,” [PINCH and SNAP]

“So compliant,” [PINCH and SNAP]

“So ready to submit.” [PINCH and SNAP]

“Tell Me.” [SNAP]

“Oh Goddess, yes, whatever you wish,” a voice that sounded like mine said between gasps.

She pushed me back a step and stood before me, still three inches shorter even in those heels.

“You will feel my nails dig into your balls, again and again, even as my hands explore your chest, your back, your ass, your cock, controlling everything they touch, more and more, creating acceptance, submission, joy no matter what pain or pleasure your body feels. You are my pet, my puppet, My slave. And you want this so much, to serve my perfect form, my perfect desires, My perfect purpose.” She wrapped her hand around my cock, aching, wanting, helplessly engorged. I floated in swirling fog, shivering, trembling, quaking, void.

She reached behind my neck and pulled me closer, thrust her tongue into my mouth, squeezed my cock, dragged long sharp nails slowly down my back and ass while I continued to feel them dig into my balls. Then she let go my cock and took one of my nipples between two perfect nails, pulsing it gently between sharp tips, my knees almost buckling, the perfect pain and waves of divine pleasure taking me that much further into Her control.

“You will feel My nails pinch your nipple, both your nipples, again and again, even as My hands continue to explore your body, controlling everything they touch, deeper and deeper.” She hooked Her leg behind mine, raised herself on me, engulfed my cock with flawless precision into Her perfectly hot wet sex. Squeezing, squeezing me. Harder. Harder. So painfully hard, waves of ecstatic divine pleasurable pain washing over me. Then it was as if Her perfect pussy began pulsing around me. I cried out, again and again.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh Godddddddddddessssssssssssssss,” I managed to moan across several breaths.

“I will count down from 3,” She whispered, low and sensuous, every syllable, every intonation tuning my entire nervous system to the perfect pleasure of Her perfect voice. Nibbling my earlobes, another assault on senses already far beyond overload, Her perfect pussy continuing its irresistible conquest of my cock, Her perfect hands brushing agonizing pleasure across my back and shoulders and ass, again and again and again, Her perfect phantom nails pinching my balls and nipples, again and again and again, me supporting her weight from under her bubblicious bottom just as I had in the shower as she slowly, slowly, slid up and down my shaft, squeezing me.

“When I reach 1,” she cooed, “my control over the pleasure center of your brain will be complete and you will cum, harder and longer than you’ve ever dreamed possible, and helplessly keep cumming until I tell you to Stop. By then you will have nothing left to ejaculate, but you will not stop cumming, your cock as hard as ever, because [Three] I will it, I demand it, and there is no higher purpose for you in this life than to serve My every desire. [Two]”

“Godddddddddddessssssssssssssss!”

Callie flexed one perfect fingertip on my anus, stretching the sharp point of her nail to the sensitive skin beyond, the others pricking nearby, my entire body jolting in incandescent pain and flooding pleasure. Gently but irretrievably rippled my cock deep and tight within Her perfect pussy, held me there, held me there, on the razor edge of orgasm as I was suspended, helpless, until Her perfect voice should utter that one final word.

“Deeper,” I gasped, my eyes deep in hers. Her expression changed, just slightly, her eyes widening, and she pressed herself down onto me, as deep as she could, her perfect pussy pushing down onto my balls even as I felt her phantom nails pinching me there.

“Yes,” I said, my eyes half closing, hers closing with mine, relaxing into her firm grip even as she continued to hold me there, two strong bodies and minds joined so close.

“[One],” she whispered, her voice shaky, and the orgasm she’d been holding back in me overtopped its bonds and we felt it begin.

“Good girl,” I said, almost voiceless as our bodies, so close already, came together in a way I’d never begun to imagine. At first she held me close, her full warm breasts pressing against me, but as our shared ecstasy went on and on she pushed herself away, looking into my eyes, me still so deep within her. She twirled one long nail of one long graceful finger slightly and the room began slowly spinning, or maybe it was me turning, the two of us so deep in each other as the pleasure went on and on and on. I’d been out of body with her already once today, and again with Morgan, but this was completely different, here and now, immediate and totally immersive, me smiling into her soul even as She washed over mine, and whatever that point on my forehead where I’d felt something trying to get in, or out, right here and now it was this, it was Callie’s soul, her loving, teaching essence reaching out to mine as mine reached to hers, and as my recollection brushed past Morgan’s memory my ecstasy surged even harder.

The backs of my knees touched the edge of the bed. I could feel my weight begin to lift ... Callie was levitating me onto my back and I was helping her do whatever she wanted. Her knees reached the bed, then my ass, then my back, and she resumed moving on me, sliding up and down, squeezing and relaxing, pressing down the way she loves, the way I love. She threw her head back, her long wavy hair moving away from her lovely shoulders, her knees sliding lower as her beautiful strong back arched, as she pressed herself down harder, as she squeezed me harder, then pulsed herself around me and finally leaned forward, her strong hands pulling me into a curve that allowed her to kiss me while I was still so deep within her, her newly full soft warm breasts against my chest. She drew back a little, far enough that eyes could focus again.

“Come harder when I kiss you,” she said, and leaned back onto me, and as our lips touched it was just like every time she told me to fuck her like an animal, my mind just fell away, but this time it filled up with her.

I woke once that night, long enough to recognize where I was, who I was with, how disheveled but perfectly comfortable both of us were, nude, her lying partially atop me, so warm, so strong, so graceful, so loving. I slid out from under her to use the bathroom and get a drink of water. She joined me there and reached in for a close embrace, so warm, so safe. I couldn’t see her face, just her long hair over her shoulders in perfect unkempt waves, exactly how it should’ve been at that moment. She joined me in bed a minute after I returned, took exactly the same position she’d been in when I woke, reached a long-nailed finger to the exact point on my forehead where our souls had joined, circled there even as my fingertips drew circles on her lovely back, my mind falling away even as hers did.