Uncle Pete always had pretty girls around him. I would be lying if I said that wasn’t part of the reason he was my favorite Uncle. At every family event, Uncle Pete could be counted on to bring along at least one hot, young, shapely girl. Sometimes, there were even multiple girls, all hovering around Uncle Pete, rushing to bring him beers, and all showing more cleavage than I had ever seen outside of the internet. As much as my parents tried to shield me, I always ended up hanging with Pete through most of the family gatherings.
It wasn’t just the girls, of course. Pete was funny and I was quick to laugh. Uncle Pete took me to movies. When I failed math in sophomore year of high school, it was Uncle Pete that sat me down and told me to shape up and quit cutting class.
The memory that I thought of the most, however, was when Uncle Pete picked me up from a party at 3AM, hammered and sick, and took me back to his place. The next day, he took the heat, claiming that I was at his place all night and he was sorry that he forgot to call. Afterwards, Pete and I talked for a long time. He told me that what I was going through was normal. It was okay to call him and he would never be mad, but I should be careful not to let the partying and booze go to my head, because I could screw things up that would take the fun away. I promised him I would keep my head.
I was really going to miss Uncle Pete. The heart attack took him quick, at least.
I was now 23, just out of college and trying to figure out what I was going to do with life. Uncle Pete’s death left me feeling even more like a boat without an anchor, just waiting for the next wind to push me along.
That being said, Pete was always the giver. His funeral was full of many of the gorgeous women that I had seen throughout the years and many more that I had never seen. They were crying, often in little pods together, and often very loudly. My family was there, too, and nobody quite seemed surprised to see the myriad of beautiful mourners. We had known Uncle Pete well enough to know the company he kept, even if none of us really understood why.
That confusion was redoubled now, looking back at Uncle Pete’s life. As long as I could remember, he had never had a single, serious girlfriend, but had always been surrounded by dozens who seemed to wait on his every whim. Why? Uncle Pete wasn’t an exceptionally handsome man, especially as he got older. What was his secret? I wished I knew. My last girlfriend had dumped me for a guy in her chemistry course that she had known for three weeks. We had dated for a year.
I listened to the eulogies, listened to the reverend, and watched a video montage that was accompanied by cheesy music. There was a blonde mourner to my right who had a way-too-short dress. She wept through the entire thing. I did my best not to look at her legs, as nice as they were. It didn’t seem like the right time or place.
After the funeral, I mingled with my family, trying to figure out how much time I needed to stay. I missed my uncle, but he was by far the best part of my family. Now that he was gone, hanging with my family had lost a lot of the draw.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and I found a tall, older gentleman. He asked me for clarification on my name, and I told him he had it right.
“Excellent,” the man said. “I was your uncle’s lawyer. As a part of his last will and testament, he wanted me to give you this.” He outstretched an envelope, then gazed over my shoulder at my family, who was watching curiously. “It was your uncle’s wish that you open it outside the company of others.”
“Uh, thank you,” I said. I was a little confused. Uncle’s money had already been accounted for. He had distributed it among a few different charities. They were selling his house and had an upcoming estate sale for his stuff.
I excused myself from my family and stepped outside the funeral home. The air was crisp and someone was burning leaves nearby. Combined with the orange leaves crunching under my feat, it was a perfect autumn day. I loosened the tie around my neck, walked to my car, and leaned on the hood. I carefully tore open the envelope and looked inside.
I expected—maybe hoped for—a check. There was none. There was just a single, type-written page inside. I carefully pulled it from the envelope and immediately smelled my Uncle’s cologne. I pushed down the tears that sprang up from the smell and forced myself to read the letter. It was type-written and not very long:
“My dear nephew,
“If you are reading this, then I am dead. I hope it’s long in the future, but however it went, I don’t have any regrets. I lived life well and I hope that you are able to do the same. To help you with this, I’m leaving you my greatest treasure—the gift of orgasm.
“Trust me, I know it’s a strange thing to say, but I don’t have to remind you of the company I kept through my life. Those girls didn’t want me for my great hair or warm personality—you know I had neither. They wanted me because I could get them off in a way that nobody else could.
“It’s a magic of sorts that seems to dwell within one person at a time. The last holder of it picked me and I pick you. When I die, this magic will pass along to you. You will only have to command a woman in your mind and she will have the most powerful orgasm she has ever had—or ever will.
“I know you don’t believe me. I felt the same way. The only way you will ever believe me is by trying it out. So go try it. Give a stranger the orgasm of her life. But please, DO NOT try it on a family member. Trust me, that’s a mess you don’t want.
“After you’re done, I’m giving you a link to a page I’ve set up to learn more.” Here he listed a URL to an obscure, strange page on the internet—obviously something he set up using a cheap web service.
“I love you, nephew. Pete.”
He was right. I didn’t believe him. This was Uncle Pete’s final joke to him, a practical joke that would live on forever. But still, I couldn’t deny that there were a hundred hot girls in that funeral. Pete had a way with women.
I got in the car, folding the letter up and sticking it in the cupholder. I knew I should say goodbye to my family, but I didn’t want to go back in there. Especially with that nagging curiosity in the back of my head. Also, they’d want to see the letter and—joke or not—I didn’t want that.
I went a few blocks through the suburb that Pete had lived in. I pulled into the parking lot of a coffee shop. Pete’s cologne still hung in the air. His words on the paper, even if they were a joke, were the last thing I’d ever had from my uncle. I lost it for a moment, I’ll fully admit it. I missed my uncle. And now I was going to go the rest of my life without him.
I got it together after a few minutes and took a deep breath. I stepped out of the car and into the coffee shop. The bell above the door jingled as I came in. The smells of overpriced coffee assaulted me.
I stepped into the line and looked behind the counter. There was a barista. She was pretty, in a hipster sort of way. Uncle Pete’s words flashed through my mind: “Give a stranger the orgasm of her life”. I quickly shook it out of my head. There was no way I was going to try to pick up a barista at a coffee shop. Family or not, I had not inherited Pete’s sort of style.
The person in front of me stepped aside and I stepped up. I ordered my drink, paid (again, overpriced), and gave my name for the order. She smiled, a nice wide smile that I liked looking at. I didn’t know if my eyes were still red, but she seemed kind. Again, I thought about my Uncle’s advice. Come to think of it, Pete didn’t say that I had to sleep with her. He seemed to imply that I could command her and she could cum. But there was no way in hell that I was going to say anything like that to her.
I stepped aside, waiting for my drink. I did my best not to keep looking at the pretty hipster barista. I did my best to not think about trying out my Uncle’s claim on her. I also did my best not to think of the weeping blonde at the funeral hope with the nice legs. I realized that my uncle’s letter seemed to say that I could command “in my mind”. That didn’t seem very pranky to me. I would expect my Uncle to have written out some magic line that would make me sound like a fool when I tried it out. If it was a prank, why have it as a mental command? I realized that this was actually a very low cost experiment, should I decide to pursue it.
I glanced again at the pretty barista. I tried to think of a reason not to experiment. I had nothing to lose, did I? And when it didn’t work, I could go on with my life without my Uncle’s “gift of orgasm”.
Another barista called my name and handed me my drink. I took it, took a sip, and glanced one more time at the pretty hipster barista. Now or never. I shrugged, focused on her, and thought, “Cum.”
Something weird happened to my head. It was like I could feel a sort of “whooshing” and my focus on the girl intensified. As quickly as it came, it was gone. If anyone noticed something odd about me, they quickly were distracted by something else.
The barista cried out, squealing in a high, earnest voice. Her whole body shook and the notepad she was holding dropped to the ground. Her eyes bulged and she slammed her fists down on the counter, apparently unable to express herself in any other way. I watched, fascinated and horrified at the same time. The coffee shop wasn’t full, but now every eye inside was focused exclusively on her. Her squealing finished and her face quickly grew red.
As much as I wondered how she was going to talk herself out of a situation that I had put her in, I was more terrified than anything else. I took my drink and left. I peeled out and drove, doing my best to put as much distance as possible between me and the coffee shop.
As I drove home, clutching my uncle’s letter in one hand, an errant thought appeared in my mind, “Huh. She was a squealer. I never would have guessed.”
“By now you will have realized I’m not bullshitting you. This also might help explain the girls around me. You were my favorite nephew and as much fun as I had, I never had any kids of my own. You can imagine the various creative methods that I employed in pursuit of that goal.
“To be clear, the gift you have will be better than anything else the girl could ever hope for outside of you. The best nights of her life will pale in comparison to what you can do with just a thought. Be warned, it can be rather addictive.
“I don’t know where this magic—I can think of no other word for it—started. I know that you choose who it goes to after you. I know that I got it when I was thirty and it never dulled throughout my life. I also know that I picked you on your 18th birthday. Whenever I pass—and if you’re reading this, I have—you’ll get that magic too.
“I hope you use this gift the same way I have, to fill your life with the pleasures that most men can only imagine. Your power only works on women, so you can’t give yourself orgasms, but once women have a taste of the delight you can provide, they tend to be very happy to return the favor.
“Let me be very clear—you hold all the cards here. You owe nobody anything. Women can be masters of guilt trips, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Remember that. If she wants something, let her earn it. This sounds crass, but just wait until they’re knocking on your door at 3AM begging for a release. You’ll learn very quickly that you provide a service and it’s not unreasonable to ask for something in exchange for that service. They’re using you for pleasure. Return the favor.
“I’m tempted to leave you with a list of numbers of girls that I have found especially agreeable, but I think that you’ll have no problem finding some of your own favorites.
“Have fun, nephew. God knows that I have. And make sure you pick an heir for the power. You can change it as you go through life, but don’t let it die with you.
“I love you. Uncle Pete.”
The webpage was cheaply-made and short, but it got the job done. I had a little lockbox—something cheap I had bought when I suspected a college roommate of stealing from me—and I stuck the envelope inside. I read the web page again, thinking. I thought back to the hipster barista. It had been easy to give her a command. It had been very impactful. I wondered if my Uncle Pete was right. Would she have… um… paid for those services? My mind started to fill with fantasies of what that might mean.
I wish I could say I had some semblance of self control. A respectable, thoughtful person might wait and think out my next steps, instead of jumping right in like a horny young guy. The fact is, though, I am a horny young guy.
I lived in a little studio apartment in an old hotel that had been converted to an apartment complex. I made do on the salary of a “corporate assistant” position, but I still worked odd jobs here and there when an unexpected expense came up—new tires or a root canal, for example. The apartment complex was filled with two types of people: young professionals and recently-divorced men. While the latter didn’t do me much good, I would have been dead to not notice the pretty girls living nearby.
Most notably was a blonde bombshell four doors down on the opposite side of the hall. I sometimes saw her when we were both coming or going at the same time. She had a habit of wearing these tank tops that clung to her like they were painted on. Her chest was… well… she and her chest were frequent visitors in my mind during times of “midnight longing”.
I stepped out of my apartment, walked down the hall, and knocked twice on the door. Only after my fingers left the door did I realize I didn’t have a clue what I was going to say. What was my plan here? Of course, it was too late to come up with one now. I just had to wing it.
The door opened and there she was. She was wearing a red tank top that I hadn’t seen before. Her generous chest pushed out again the fabric, creating a dark cave in the middle that I found very promising.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hi,” I smiled. I decided to just swing. I looked at her and thought in my mind “Cum”. Some part of me was terrified that maybe this all was still some sort of joke. Maybe this was where I was made the fool. But those fears were short lived. There was the “whooshing” in my mind and she started.
The blonde let out a short groan, then gasped. She grabbed onto the door frame for support. I watched while her hips bucked and shook. She was trying to keep her mouth closed, but soon failed. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” came in sharp, forceful breaths as she shook. The hand on the door frame was steady, but the one holding the door waved back and forth as she shook. The door moved with her, occasionally banging against her side.
Then, it was done. The blonde continued to breathe heavily. She looked at me with wide, embarrassed eyes. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t enjoyed watching that.
“If you would like to talk more about this, I live in apartment 414,” I said, pointing down the hall. “Feel free to come by.”
I turned on a heel, riding the adrenaline, and left her standing in the hallway.
It took her about fifteen minutes. I had spent the time doing my best to not jerk off to the memory of her orgasm. I had succeeded, but if she had taken much longer she might have caught me in the middle of my own little time of ecstasy.
There was a tentative knock on my door. I was in front of the door almost immediately, but forced myself to wait a few more seconds so I didn’t look so eager. I opened the door.
She looked at me warily, a little like I had a growth on my face and she wasn’t sure whether to comment on it or not.
“Hi,” I said.
“Um… hi,” she said.
“Would you like to come in?”
“Sh… sure,” she said. She stepped tentatively into my apartment and I closed the door.
I introduced myself and she gingerly took my hand. “I’m Niki,” she said.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I’ve seen you around the building.”
“Yeah,” Niki said, still looking at me warily.
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked. I was still feeling the adrenaline high and was a little manic. Never before had I had the upper hand in talking to a hot girl. It was a strange feeling.
“What did… what happened? Earlier?” Niki asked.
“I’m a little new to it, but I am pretty sure I gave you an orgasm,” I said.
Niki blinked. Then again. She pursed her lips and said, “But…” She paused, blinked again, and said, “What?”
“Apparently I can do that,” I said. “I can think and give you an orgasm. Again, I’m new to it myself.”
“That’s crazy,” Niki said, a little bit of anger creeping into her voice. I was losing her.
“Should we experiment? Should I try it again?” I said.
Niki’s eyes grew wide and her lips shut tight. She looked like she wanted to say yes, but didn’t actually want to have said it—or acknowledge the consequences if it worked.
I shrugged, walked to the fridge, and got myself a bottle of water. I gestured to her with it, asking silently if she wanted one. She shook her head. I closed the fridge, opened the water, and took a sip.
“I don’t know what sort of sick game you’re playing,” Niki said softly, but her voice lacked conviction. “I don’t know how you did that earlier… or… why it was so… you know…”
“Good?” I asked.
Niki opened her mouth as if to snap at me again, but then closed it again. She appeared to struggle for a moment and then said, “Yes! Good!”
“If you want proof, I can do it again,” I said, sincerely hoping I had the ability to follow through on that. Were there rules to this? Frequency with one girl? Frequency with my own ability? I didn’t know. “And then we can talk more about it after you’re sure.”
Niki’s eyes flickered to me, then around the room, then back to me. “With… with you watching me?”
I blinked, laughed a moment, and took a sip of water. “That’s sort of rude,” I observed mildly. “You want me to do it, but not look at you?” Niki flushed red. I would have been confused in her place as well. Inside, I hoped that Uncle Pete knew what he was talking about. Nothing would ever compare, he said. If that wasn’t true, then she would leave. But if it was true, then…
“Fine. Do it,” Niki said. She sounded irritated that she had to concede. That was fine for now. I looked at her and commanded in my mind, “Cum”. She did. For the second time in an hour, I watched her body shake and gyrate, while she moaned. It lasted longer this time, possibly because she wasn’t trying to stop it this time. It lasted almost thirty seconds. I sipped on my water and watched the busty blonde orgasm in my living room.
After, she dropped to her knees, quivering. “Oh my god… oh my god…” she muttered.
“Do you believe me now?” I asked softly.
She nodded. “How do you do that?” she asked.
“My uncle left me his magic,” I said with a shrug. I didn’t see a reason to lie. “He just died. And I just found out about this. So…” I shrugged. “I thought I would give it a try.”
“And why me?” Niki asked.
“Because you’re gorgeous,” I said with a shrug. Her having just cum, I felt more bold that I might have yesterday.
“What?” Niki said.
“I said you’re gorgeous,” I repeated, still firm.
“You… you want to sleep with me?” Niki said. “Is that why… you’re trying to…” She was doing her best to process the situation. I sort of wished that Uncle Pete had left me instructions to navigate this part.
“Look, you don’t have to do anything,” I said with a shrug. “If you wanted to mess around some, I could get you off like this more often.”
Niki stared at me fiercely. “I’m not some whore.”
“I’m not saying you are,” I said. “Both parties having an orgasm isn’t prostitution. It’s literally just sex.”
Niki frowned as she processed this a moment. She must have realized that she was still on her knees, because she stood up suddenly.
“I… I don’t know what… I…” she stuttered.
“Look, I am happy to have made you happy. I also just wanted to experiment some with it myself, and I’ve done that,” I said. “I’ve given you two orgasms now. I haven’t gotten any. If you wanted a third…” I shrugged, letting the implication hang. “But you’re one hundred percent free to go and never come back.”
Niki looked at me again, apparently unsure. She gingerly stepped toward the door. When I didn’t move, she took another step. I raised an eyebrow, watching her.
“It was… it was good to meet you,” she muttered. She turned and left. A few seconds after my door closed, I heard hers open and close down the hall. I wandered over to the door and locked it.
This time, I was not able to keep from masturbating.
My uncle’s funeral was on a Saturday. The next day, Sunday morning, I heard a tentative knock on my door. I looked through the peephole and saw Niki, now dressed in a black tank top. Again, I forced myself to wait before opening the door. Again, I invited her in.
“Can you still do… you know?” she opened the conversation.
“Yeah,” I said. I hadn’t tested it yet today, but I was getting comfortable enough in the ability to say yes despite verification.
“Ok,” Niki said. “How about this? Hand job, fully clothed, and we make out while I do it?”
Immediately, I was turned off. Not that it wasn’t a tempting offer, of course, but I could tell that Niki had come in with the express mission of getting the best orgasm of her life while giving as little as possible in return. I was reminded of the busty beauties that used to tend to Uncle Pete’s whims. With that memory firmly in mind, I resolved myself.
“Nah,” I said. “I’ll pass.”
I watched Niki’s determination fade. “What?” she said.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “Thanks for the offer. But I think I’m going to wait for someone who wants to have some more fun.”
Niki stammered for a moment, then blurted, “I just met you! I don’t just give out hand jobs to anyone!”
“That’s fine,” I said with a shrug. After getting over the prospect of getting off immediately, I was now starting to have some fun. I knew that a little restraint in this time would pan out later. “Again, thanks for the offer.”
Niki looked like she might have been about to cave and offer more, but then she steeled herself and smiled back at me. “Have a good day,” she said. She left.
The best orgasm they ever had. That’s what Uncle Pete said this power was. If that was the case and Niki had already had two for free, I didn’t feel bad at all for turning her down. I knew that she was trying to save face, wanting to have the orgasm but not wanting to be a slut. If that’s what she wanted most, that was fine with me. I could find another girl to do what I wanted. She couldn’t say the same.
With that in mind, I went for a little walk around the building. Niki was the one I had jerked off to the most, but that was because I saw her the most. There were other hot girls in the building with me. The trick was finding them and propositioning them in the best way.
I wandered the nine floors of the apartment building, effectively doing laps. I saw a few divorced dads and some girls that I didn’t find quite as attractive. Finally, I came across a pretty brunette. She was didn’t have quite as nice of a chest as Niki, but she was fit and looked great in yoga pants.
“Hi,” I said with a warm smile. She was waiting at an elevator on the ninth floor.
She looked up from her phone, locked eyes with me, and gave a polite smile. Then she looked back on the phone.
We both stepped onto the elevator. She pressed “lobby”, I pressed “4”. The door closed.
“I know I don’t know you,” I started. My experience with Niki had emboldened me. “…but I can give you the best orgasm of your life.”
The brunette’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Wh…” she started to say. My mental command cut her off. She was a moaner. Her hands went to the railing of the elevator, where she gripped white-knuckled as she came.
She finished just as the elevator door opened on floor four. I stepped off, then turned around and put a foot in the door. The brunette was staring at me with a shocked and slightly-thrilled expression.
“If you would like another, I am in room 414,” I said with a smile. “We can talk about it.” I removed the foot from the elevator door and—with a little bit of proud swagger—walked back to my apartment.
As I rounded the corner, I saw that Niki was standing in front of my door, apparently waiting for me to get back. Her arms were crossed in a sort of “huffed” pose and I could tell she was unhappy to be there again, let alone left waiting.
“Hi Niki,” I said warmly.
Once inside the apartment, she turned and said, “Ok. Blowjob, topless, and you can cum on my face or chest if you want.” Now we were getting somewhere. If she had come in that morning with that offer, I probably would have jumped on it, but I admit I got a power trip by telling her no this morning.
“Again, thanks but no thanks,” I said, smiling kindly. My pants had felt suddenly very tight in front.
“Fine!” Niki exclaimed. “My pussy then! Full nude!”
“I’m good,” I said with a dismissive shrug. Niki’s mouth dropped open.
“Well what do you want then?” she demanded.
“I want you seduce me,” I said honestly. “I’m not an errand boy. And I don’t like you coming here in a bidding war for how little you can do to get the best orgasm ever.”
“It’s not the best…” she started to say, but her voice dropped when she realized that her instinctive response was probably not accurate. It was the best she had ever had and they both knew it.
“So if you really want that, then I want you to put actual effort into it,” I said. “Pretend I’m a boyfriend that you’re fucking crazy over and it’s my birthday. Or Valentine’s Day and I just bought you a big-ass diamond necklace. Don’t come in bargaining with how little you can do. If you want me to blow your mind, return the favor!”
Niki wasn’t indignant anymore. She appeared to be considering something. She pursed her lips and said, “I offended you.”
“A little bit, yeah,” I admitted.
“I didn’t ask for you to give me that orgasm,” Niki said.
“Fine,” I shrugged. “I won’t do it again.” I wasn’t smiling anymore.
Niki turned away from me, then turned back and said, “I’m sorry I offended you.” Then she walked out.
I ordered a pizza. It felt like a pizza sort of day. Very shortly after it arrived, there was a knock on the door. The brunette from the elevator was there. We had a conversation very similar to the one I had with Niki the day before: Dead uncle, magic power, she’s very attractive, and we’re one to zero on the orgasm scoreboard. I found out her name was Madi. Why do all the sexy girls have names that end with ‘i’?
“You want me to sleep with you?” Madi said.
“If you want orgasms, I don’t think it’s impolite to expect the same,” I said with a humble shrug.
“And what sort of thing are you thinking?” Madi asked. I was comforted that Madi hadn’t shut it down instantly. Maybe she was more open-minded than Niki.
“I don’t know,” I said vaguely. “Maybe some fun lingerie, maybe some time on your knees, maybe a facial…” I shrugged. I fully recognized that if you traded lingerie for topless, I was propositioning her with Niki’s second offer. Still, Madi was nicer to me.
“You want porn star treatment,” Madi observed.
I thought about it, shrugged, and then said, “Yeah, that’s about right.”
“And you’ll give me… you know… that, again?”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
There was a knock at the door. I glanced at the pizza on the counter, Madi, and then back at the door. Oh shit.
“Full disclosure,” I said, “you’re not the first one I propositioned with this.” I looked through the peephole. It was Niki. She was wearing a coat, but I could see lace beneath it. If my dick wasn’t hard before, it was now.
I looked back at Madi, “And it looks like someone else is taking me up on it.” Madi blinked, but to her credit she didn’t seem offended or surprised. I continued, “So how about you think about it and if you decide to take me up on this, you swing by later on?”
Madi picked up her purse and started to the door. “To clarify, you’re about to fuck another girl in exchange for that mind blowing orgasm. And you’re kicking me out, but if I decide to fuck you too, I should come back.”
I thought about it a moment, nodded, and said, “Yeah, I suppose that’s it. I know it doesn’t paint me in the best light, but…”
“No, but I didn’t exactly expect differently from a guy,” Madi said with a shrug. “I might see you later.”
In a flash of inspiration, I realized I was setting myself up for this situation again. I scribbled my number on a piece of paper and handed it to Madi.
I opened the door to let Madi out. Niki took the cue to spread the long jacket, showcasing her body in the black lace. Her fantastic tits were held heroically by the fabric. Fishnets and garters led into the lacey panties. A lace choker and black high heels completed the look. I only got a brief glance, of course, before Niki saw Madi emerging and the coat snapped close again. Niki’s face flushed.
Madi smiled kindly at Niki as she stepped past her. “He’s all yours,” Madi commented. “Have fun.”
“Sorry about that,” I said, looking up at Niki. “Madi and I were just talking about… well… I’m sure you can guess.”
Niki turned her head, watching Madi turn around the corner. “Did you two…? Should I come back later?”
“Oh, no,” I said. “We were just talking through it. Uncle, magic power, all that.”
“So you’re still…”
“Horny? Full? Yeah,” I nodded. We stood there awkwardly for a moment, then I had an idea. “How about I close the door and you knock again and we try this all again?”
“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Niki said with a nod.
I closed the door, backed away, and waited. There was a knock on the door. I waited a moment, then opened the door. Niki spread the long jacket, showcasing her body in the black lace. Her fantastic tits were held heroically by the fabric. Fishnets and garters led into the lacey panties. A lace choker and black high heels completed the look. I feasted my eyes on her body, which was so much better than I had imagined.
“Can I come in?” Niki purred.
“Please,” I said, stepping aside. As she passed, I locked the door behind.
Niki dropped the jacked on the floor and sauntered into the living room. She gave me several long seconds of admiring of her ass was framed by the panties before she turned on her high heels and walked back towards me. She leaned in, smiling coyly and pressing herself against my chest. In the heels, she was just an inch shorter than me. She kissed me, running her hands down my chest.
I realized that I was standing very stiffly. I was not a virgin, but I was always so concerned about getting the girl to where she needed to go. I realized suddenly that I had very little idea of how to enjoy sex that was all about me. To compound the matter was the fact that she was a gorgeous girl, with amazing tits, and operating under orders (that I gave her, no less!) to blow my mind. I had no idea what to do.
Thankfully, Niki took something of the “I’ll take care of you” approach. She took my hands, which were dangling uselessly at my side, and pressed them against her tits. With her fingers laced in mind, she squeezed, encouraging me to grip her body tightly. Her lips broke contact with mind and started their way down to my neck. In between the tender, passionate kisses, Niki sucked on my skin, playing lightly with her teeth.
Niki broke contact with my neck long enough to move to lightly bite by earlobe. Then, she whispered, “If anything pops into your mind… if you want me to do anything… tell me.” With her fingers still laced in mine, she moved our hands down so they cupped her ass. “No matter how filthy,” she added.
I confess, all memory of an awkward hallway interaction was gone.
Niki unlaced her fingers from mine, leaving them in place on her ass, and then took grip of my belt buckle. She smiled promisingly up at me, then turned and pulled me away from the door, leading me by the buckle. She positioned me in front of my bed, then put a gentle hand on my chest to lower me down. It was good that I was sitting now. My knees might not have lasted much longer.
She stood in front of me. My hands, showing slightly more confidence now, were exploring her body—more or less just trading between fondling her tits and her ass. Niki spun slowly and sensuously, aiding my hands in their exploration and displaying her perfect body from every angle. After a minute or two, while she was facing me and my hands were gripping her ass, she purred, “Spank me.”
“What?” I said.
“Spank me, baby,” Niki said. She put her hands on my shoulders and leaned into me. My hands didn’t leave her ass. “I’ve been bad and I need spanked.”
I lifted both hands off her ass and returned them with force. I slapped her harder than I intended to, but Niki only giggled. Emboldened, I did it again, slapping her ass one cheek at a time for five or six slaps. It was fun! I had never spanked a sexy girl before.
Once I was done slapping her ass, Niki spun slowly to face her ass to me. She bent at the knees, descending and rubbing her ass against my crotch. I was sure that she found what she was looking for, because I was rocking a very pitched tent. Her hands found mine again and she pressed my palms against her tits. She lifted her knees, then descended again, grinding again against me. As she did, she squeezed hard on my hands, squeezing her own tits in turn. She rose again, then descended. This time, she moved my hands to the top of her bra, encouraging me to grip the top. With our shared grip, she pulled on the bra, popping her tits out into the open. I actually let out a moan as she grinded her ass against my dick and had me squeeze her tits. I had spent a lot of mental power trying to picture those tits.
After another minute of grinding, Niki stepped away from me, facing out into the room. She reached around, unclasping her bra while I stared at her ass. She let the lace drop to the ground, then turned back around. Her tits were spectacular—even more than I imagined. She was one of the rare creatures with large volume and smaller nipples—just my type. She walked closer and leaned in, pressing them against my face. I didn’t need guiding to know what to do. My hands gripped them easily and my mouth greedily sucked on them, one a time.
Niki giggled. “That’s lovely,” she purred in my ear. I felt her hands running down my back, then slipping around to my front. I heard my belt buckle before I felt it. She had opened it. With nimble fingers, she unzipped my pants and carefully nudged them down my legs. When they hit my knees, she had to lower far enough that her tit dropped out of my mouth. She continued pushing my pants down. I let them slip off my feet. Her face was now down by my knees. Her eyes, filled with naked lust, looked up at my eyes, then dropped down to my crotch. Her skillful fingers went to work again, gently easing the elastic of my boxer shorts over my stiff and throbbing dick. Her fingertips brushed against my balls and I almost came right there. She edged the boxers down off my legs. She pushed both my pants and underwear out of the way, smiled naughtily at me, and leaned forward.
Her lips pressed against the base of my shaft, her bottom lip just tickling the top of my balls. She sucked gently, pulling my sensitive skin against her lips. She let it go and then an exploring, seductive tongue appeared on my shaft. In a curving, wandering pattern the warm tongue worked its way up my dick, pausing at the top to run laps around the head. To my amazement, she smiled up at me as she did it.
Then, she opened wide and descended. My cock plunged into her mouth, feeling warm and wet. She sucked as she went down, her lips vacuum sealed to my cock. If you thought that would slow her down, you’d be wrong. She quickly established a rhythm, bouncing her face on my dick. I could see her tits matching rhythm, bouncing in the open air. She started by taking it halfway—maybe two thirds of the way—into her mouth. Her intentions quickly became clear, however. With the pace of the rhythm, she was slowly edging further into her mouth. Her lovely red lips were pushing further and further down. Finally, with one last heroic push, she pressed her lips all the way down to the base of my dick and held it there. I saw her eyes bulge for just a moment, but she stayed.
After a moment of adjustment, she started sucking. The groan from my throat was neither intentional nor a noise I had made before. She created a rhythm with her suction, working my cock even as her nose stayed pressed against my bell.
“Ohhhhh my god,” I muttered. Her eyes flickered up to mine. They were filled with a sort of dark joy, like an evil teasing invitation. Her lips, without breaking suction, curved ever so slightly into a smile.
Then, her face lifted again and she rose for a breath of air. As soon as her mouth was off of my dick, her hand replaced it, stroking firmly to maintain sensation.
“Your tits,” I said, the idea springing to my mouth before it even landed in my mind. “Get me off with your tits.”
Maybe I should have called them “breasts” or even “boobs”, but we were well past polite language and respectful nomenclature. She smiled at me, grabbed a tit in each hand, and wrapped my cock between them. With her heft, my cock was easily lost between them. She started bouncing, her spit lubricating the cock.
“Do you like this?” Niki said, her voice midway between a whisper and a moan. “Do you like my slutty tits wrapped around your thick, hard cock? Your own personal…”
She probably had more to say, but that was as long as my willpower could last. From its cave between the mountains on Niki’s chest, my cum spurted out. I watched as it struck her hard on her cheek and Niki’s eyes filled with surprise. To her credit, she never ceased with her rhythm, bouncing my cock between her tits as I erupted. The subsequent strands didn’t make it as far and Niki kept pumping cum up and onto her tits. She giggled as I came, seeming to bask in it. She rocked her tits down onto my dick long after the cum itself stopped, working out every last sensation from those nerves.
Finally, I gave her a nod, indicating she could stop.
Niki released my cock from her tits, reached up and used one finger to remove the cum strand from her cheek. She looked me in the eye, licked it off my finger, and winked. I could have cum again right there and then.
Niki stood and walked to the kitchen. I collapsed back onto my bed. I heard the tear of a paper towel, the running of my sink, and then a light scrubbing. I could imagine her wiping the cum off her chest.
“Oooo, pizza,” Niki said. “I wondered what I was smelling.”
I had completely forgotten about the pizza. My mind had been otherwise occupied.
“Would… would you like a slice?” I asked.
“Maybe later,” Niki said, approaching me again. She still wore no top, but my cum was gone from her tits. She pursed her lips, cocked her head, and said, “How was that?”
“It was amazing,” I said. “Thank you very much.”
Niki bit a painted lip, as if trying to phrase something. “Mind-blowing?”
“Oh shit! Of course,” I said. I focused my eyes on her, about to give the mental command.
“Wait!” Niki said, her eyes growing wide. She hurried over to my kitchen table (in actuality just a card table with a thrift store tablecloth over it) and sat down. Then she nodded at me.
I focused on her and commanded in my mind, “Cum”. I felt the whooshing and she started. Maybe it was because she was ready for it or getting more accustomed to it, but I could actually see the orgasm pushing through her in waves, building, swelling, receding, and repeating. I noticed this because she was topless and it was very evident from how her tits bounced when she was feeling a swell. I was watching closely.
She finished, breathing deeply.
“Ohhhh my god,” she muttered. “That’s… oh that’s just incredible.”
“Well, I had a lot of fun too,” I said. I stood, pulled on my underwear, and went to the kitchen. I wanted some pizza.
“Was that… was that mind-blowing enough for you?” Niki asked.
With a slice of pizza in my hand, I answered honestly, “That was the best sex I’ve ever had. And you are the hottest girl I’ve ever had slept with. And together, that is indeed a mind-blowing thing.”
“Did you want… you know… anything different next time?” Niki asked.
Next time. The words echoed in my brain for a long moment before I actually processed them.
“You’d do this again?” I said. My plan had ended when I came on her chest—and even that had not been the plan.
“I had assumed that you would want more,” Niki said. “You know… if… if you were still willing to keep giving me…”
I realized that I did want her again. I wanted her a lot. I had her mouth and I had her tits. I hadn’t even tried her pussy yet. I had never tried anal before, but I was down to try—although Madi in yoga pants floated through my mind here. I did want to fuck Niki a lot. And I wanted it like this, where she did the work. What had Madi called it? I wanted the “porn star treatment”.
That meant that I needed to keep Niki hooked on what I could give her. And as dark and greedy as this thought was, I wanted her to try just as hard next time. I wanted her desperate. I was worried that if we came to an arrangement, she might not try as hard the next time. Part of what made this so damned sexy was the obvious effort, forethought, and depravity she brought to the table. I didn’t want that to slack.
“How about this?” I said, pausing to take a bite of pizza and think about my words. “You did a really good job. You made me feel like a king or something. So let’s make an agreement.
“If you put in the work, act sexy for me, and get me off, I’ll give you one orgasm.”
Niki’s eyes flashed hungrily. She had just gotten off, but was apparently eager for the next one. That was good. I could use that. I continued.
“But if you blow my mind… really, truly blow my mind, and I’ll give you three.”
“Three orgasms?” Niki clarified, her voice desperate. It was like she was afraid I was about to pull the rug out on her.
“Yes, three orgasms. If you truly blow my mind. That’s up to you to figure out how to do, by the way. And it’s totally up to me to determine if my mind has been blown. No arguments. Agreed?”
Niki nodded furiously.
“But if you show up and I feel like you’re half-assing it.. not really trying to make me happy, just trying to get yourself off… then our arrangement is over.”
Niki’s eyes widened in a sort of panicked reverence. “No more… at all?”
“Correct,” I said. “I have the ability to give you the best orgasms of your life. I expect you to put in the effort to thank me. If you’re not going to bring your A-game every time, I can just as easily find another girl who will.” I took a bite of pizza, letting the implications flow through her mind. I swallowed, then added, “I mean, look how far I got you in just one day. I could do that with someone else too.”
That was the seal. I could see it. She believed that I could find someone to replace her and the idea terrified her. “I promise,” she said, her voice desperate. “I promise I’ll make you really happy. I’ll try really hard and I’ll never skimp.”
“Not like this morning,” I observed, “where you offered a hand job and didn’t even want to take your top off.”
“No, no!” Niki said, her voice almost frantic. “Not like that. I promise, I’ll be really sexy every time. Anything you want. Everything you want.”
“And you’ll do the work,” I observed mildly.
“Yes!” Niki nodded.
“And you’ll come up with ideas,” I said. “Sometimes I don’t know what I want. Sometimes you just offering ‘whatever you want’ might come across as lazy.”
“I’ll come up with ideas!” Niki nodded vigorously. “I won’t be lazy. I promise.”
I nodded, approvingly. “Good.” I took another bite of pizza. “And if you try hard every time and get me off, then I’ll keep giving you orgasms. And if you really, really do a great fucking job, then I’ll give you three.”
Niki’s eyes flashed again at the prospect.
“That reminds me,” I said, although I had never actually forgotten. This was the all important part. I had established a stick, but now to really hammer home the carrot. “Go climb on my bed. Get comfortable.”
Niki hurried over to the bed, laying down. Her breath was already picking up in anticipation. I focused on her and commanded her to cum. She did, thrashing about my bed and making a racket. She rested, then, catching her breath. After a minute, I focused again and commanded her to cum. She did, the third time in a row. I feared that it had reduced in potency, but if anything they grew more powerful. Her body writhed more, she moaned more, and they lasted longer.
Finally, Niki collapsed after her last orgasm. She lay there, her bare chest heaving. She looked amazing. I was very glad to have waited for a real offer in exchange for his services.
Niki suddenly snapped to attention, sitting up. She stood, straightened the sheets, and said, “Sorry. I… I don’t mean to just lay here like this.”
“That’s fine,” I said, munching again on my pizza. With a full mouth, I added, “I want you to enjoy your reward.”
I reached for a grocery list, tore free the first sheet, and jotted down my number on it. Niki picked up her bra from the ground, but was very carefully not covering her tits. She stepped forward, gingerly, and accepted the number from me.
“Text me when you want to please me,” I said. “You know, so you don’t run into…” Something occurred to me. “You know I am propositioning other girls, right?”
“That doesn’t bother you?” I asked.
Niki shook her head. “If you keep giving me orgasms like that… I don’t care. I don’t care at all. I think that… maybe I might just be afraid that you won’t have time for me.” She was grasping the paper and her lace bra like they were lifelines. Those orgasms had hit her harder than I thought they would. Uncle Pete had said they were addictive, but… geeze.
“I’ll text you,” Niki said softly, then hurriedly added, “You know, like you said.” She pursed her lips, looked down, and added, “But… if you need me. You know… if you want someone to play with… I’m right down the hall. I can be dressed up, made up, and ready to go in fifteen minutes notice. You know… if you want some entertainment.”
I smiled at her. The memory of her crossed arms and ungrateful expression from just this afternoon flashed through my mind. Now, she was puddy in my hands. What had she said yesterday? “I’m not some whore.” Now, she was offering moments-notice sex. The irony wasn’t lost on me and I was feeling a power trip. Maybe it would have been kinder to let it lay, but I couldn’t resist.
“In case I need a whore to suck me off?” I said. I intended a little bit of spite, but apparently the orgasms had sufficiently chastised her.
“Yes,” Niki nodded furiously. “I wanna be your whore. Whenever you want.” She heard the words come out of her mouth, then quickly added, “But I’ll have ideas how to please you! I’ll invest ways to blow your mind. Like a good whore should. I promise.”
Woah. Not the reaction I expected. Then again, not entirely unwelcome.
“Ok,” I said. “Text me so I have your number.” I pointed toward the door. “You can go.”
“Ok,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She bent down, picked up the jacket she had worn on her way over, and hurried out the door. I had expected her to get dressed before stepping outside, but she didn’t even bother putting the bra back on her huge tits.
I sat quietly, eating pizza and reliving the experience. Sexiest girl I had ever slept with, doing the most depraved shit I had ever done. I guess in retrospect, it could have been worse stuff, but I hadn’t exactly been Hugh Heffner so far in my life. The question that probed my mind most of all was what would she have continued to do if I hadn’t cum when I had? For such a high-intensity experience, I think I lasted admirably long.
My phone buzzed. I looked down. It was a text from Niki. “This is Niki, your on-call whore.” This was a far cry from a clothes-on hand job. As if to drive the fact home, a second text arrived, containing five different pictures of her in various states of undress. Another text explained, “Your own choice of contact picture. If you want, we can take more next time I’m over. ;)”.
I picked the one that showed her topless, on her knees, looking up at the camera with desperate eyes and an open mouth.
“Wow,” I muttered. “I guess it really is addictive.” I was beginning to realize that I might have to be more careful how I used this. Then again… Uncle Pete had lived it up. Suddenly, his example seemed pretty good.
Work was boring. The entire day, it felt like I had woken up from a dream—one with magic powers and sexy women ready to do my bidding. Work just felt like… work. I got coffee, I proofread articles, I made minor suggestions, I showed my boss how to save a PowerPoint as a PDF. I was back to my life as usual.
When I finished work, I went home. I was half convinced that I none of it had happened at all. It seemed so far-fetched. I opened my phone, looked down at the text messages, and saw the ones from Niki. I scrolled through the pictures again. I wondered if her mind had sobered at all or if she felt like she was waking up from a dream herself.
I microwaved a meal, sat on the couch, and turned on the television. I scrolled through streaming options for a moment, but eventually lost interest. I sat there on the couch, looking at a bunch of TV shows that I didn’t want to watch, holding a bowl that was empty.
I looked again at my phone. Almost as if on cue, I got a text message. The number was unknown—I had not yet saved Niki’s number in my phone—but it came through just below the nudes she had sent yesterday. It read, “Been thinking about you today. ;) If you’re feeling bored, take a look through this album. Favorite whatever you like and I’ll be sure to wear it for you. XOXO, BJBJ”.
There was a link to a shared photo album. I stared at it a moment, then glanced back at the text above it. Did I dare? Yes. I dared.
As soon as the link opened and my phone’s screen filled with the dozens of pictures of Niki in various frilly, revealing lingerie, I knew that this was wrong. So I copied the link, sent it to myself, and opened it on my computer, where I could see much better. Satisfied now, I went through the long, arduous process of scrolling through every picture.
Naturally, there were multiple pictures of the same lingerie from different, sexy poses, but I was surprised by the vast variety. I spent a long time appreciating a red, mesh baby-doll. Her tits were easily visible through it, but supported and staged by it too. The silky dangling fabric looked great on her midriff. I favorited each and every one of those pictures. Others were a swing and a miss, like the latex and leather. I had heard a theory once that men, more or less, broke down into “leather guys” and “lace guys”. I was definitely the latter.
There were 142 pictures in the album. While I thought that I was taking my time and going through slowly, I quickly found my way to the end. Almost as I reached it, however, that number jumped to 143. When I flipped to the last one, I found a video instead of a picture. Niki was in the red, mesh baby-doll that I had favorited. She started close to the camera, so she could press play, then backed up into her apartment. She lifted her arms, spun in a tight circle as she wiggled her hips, and displayed herself from all angles. She approached the camera, bent over, grasped her tits, and shook them in front of the camera, smiling teasingly as she did. Then, she knelt on the floor, reached up to grab the camera, and pointed it down at her. Her leasing smile was replaced with a look of hungry longing. Her lips—so distracted I was by the lingerie that I hadn’t noticed until now that they were covered in a matching red—parted. A slow, intentional tongue ran its way over her lips, then she opened wide. Her intention and invitation was clear.
I watched the video twice. Halfway through the second, I had to actively remove my hand from my pants, where it was unconsciously rubbing my dick through my pants.
I favorited the video and pressed the “next” button, expecting it to bring me back to the beginning. Instead, it took me to a new picture. Apparently, Niki had uploaded one more picture while I ogled her in the video.
She was still in the red, leaning up against a wall with her arms above her head. She was looking into the camera with a sultry gaze. She reminded me of a model. While the picture was great, it was the words that really stopped me. In a “word art” style, positioned carefully above her to not block my view of her body, was the message: “You like your whore in red.” Written below in similar form was, “I’ll be wearing it all night if you want to try it out.”
Instinctively, I favorited the picture.
I stood up, pacing my living room. Uncle Pete’s warning about the orgasms flashed through my head: “Be warned, it can be rather addictive.” That made sense, I supposed. Orgasms ordinarily were the greatest pleasure the mind had, how much more so with this sort of super-orgasm? It was like a drug, I supposed. How many doses had it taken to get Niki hooked? I counted quickly. Two orgasms—and denial of a third—had put her at my doorstep in lingerie with intention to blow. After that… after that I had given her three more. I had been very satisfied and it had seemed like a good idea, but had that pushed her over the edge into full-fledged addict? Just five orgasms?
What’s worse was that she had only given me one (excluding the many that she had given me through my own imagination), but I was having a very difficult time resisting the urge to capitalize on her need. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it? Why shouldn’t I get hot girls hooked on what only I could give them? Again, Uncle Pete’s words sprung to mind: “They’re using you for pleasure. Return the favor.”
I thought again of the five orgasms I had given her. I thought again of the one that she given me. Of course, the red mesh baby-doll wasn’t far from my brain either.
In retrospect, I wasn’t actually sure if I ever really considered not doing it.
“Come entertain me,” was the text I sent. I went to my “favorites folder”, filled with images of Niki in lingerie, and shared my screen with the TV.
My phone buzzed. “Yes sir.”
I set the favorites album to slide show and my TV filled with the best images of Niki’s sexy, porn-like photoshoot. I approached the door. She knocked before I reached it. This time, there was no reason to wait to make her think I wasn’t eager. I opened the door.
She hadn’t covered up with a jacket this time. She stood in the mesh, red baby-doll, smiling seductively up at me. She was barefoot this time, instead of in high heels. As a result, she was shorter. In some fucked up way, this was exciting to me—did smaller mean more submissive in my head? It didn’t matter.
“May I come in, sir?” she said softly. I realized I had been standing in the doorway, ogling her and blocking the way. “Or would you like me to kneel and beg for the world to see?” It wasn’t sarcastic. It was an offer. I realized then that her last inhibitions were long gone. If I wanted to parade her in front of the world, she would gladly go with it, so long as I got her off after it was all done. Of course, that wasn’t what I wanted… probably… I was pretty sure.
I stepped aside, gestured with my head instead, and said, “Inside.”
She smiled up at me, then stepped into the apartment. I looked down the hallway in either direction. It was empty, but that wasn’t exactly the point. The point was that Niki apparently didn’t care if anyone stepped out and saw her in a “fuck-me” outfit outside my apartment.
“Aren’t you worried about being seen?” I asked.
Niki was looking casually at the TV, that showed pictures of her. She looked at me and a flash of worry crossed her face.
“I thought you might like it, actually,” she said softly. “A sexy blonde, dressed up to play, knocking on your door. If anyone saw me, they would know that you have a private plaything.” She batted her eyelashes at me. “I don’t mind people knowing that. But if you would prefer, I can be more discrete.”
“I… I don’t know,” I said honestly. I was far too horny to be logical.
“Same with the pictures, of course,” Niki added, looking with a smile again at the TV. “They’re your property. Share them with your friends if it turns you on. If it satisfies you.” She smiled and crossed the room. I watched her legs with fascination. She ran her hands up my chest and planted a small kiss on my collar bone. “Or we can take some more. I’m sure there are some poses… some acts… that you wouldn’t mind preserving or sharing.”
Five orgasms was apparently the necessary bridge to transition “Never spoken with you” to “offering to be a personal porn star”. Still, I had 144 more sexy pictures than I had the day before. In fact, combined with the five from yesterday, I have 149 more than I had two days ago. I was more concerned with the things that she could do for me in real life.
“Let’s save pictures for another time,” I said. “What else do you have in mind?”
Niki’s red lips curled up in a promising smile.
I laid back on the bed and positioned my head comfortably on my pillow. In my foreground, I could see Niki in the red baby-doll. In the background, she was staring out of my TV in black lace and a thick black collar around her neck. She unbuckled my pants and I eagerly helped her remove them and my underwear. Niki dropped the panties from underneath the baby-doll, then climbed on top of me.
“Sir,” Niki said softly as she took my dick gently in her hand. “I want you to remember…” She gave it a long, tender stroke with both hands. “…that I am your own personal whore.” She lifted herself with her knees, positioned her pussy over my dick, and gently positioned my cock inside her. She descended slowly, sensuously. “I am not to be respected.” She lifted, descended, and then twisted her hips in a circle, as if really drilling it into her. “I am not a girlfriend or even a one-night stand. I am a whore.” She started bouncing. “I am property, sir. Your property.”
I was frozen in place, watching the bombshell impale herself on my cock. Her words were hot, but what did they actually mean? I was fucking her.
She clarified. She picked up my hands, lifted them to her neck, and positioned my fingers around her throat.
“I want you to treat me like a fucking whore,” Niki said, her voice and the bounce of her pussy both growing in intensity. “Choke me. Slap me. Hurt me.” My fingers tightened and I felt that same power trip that I’d been riding off and on for the last few days.
“You like that?” I grunted, finding my tongue finally loosening. “You like being my whore?”
“I LOVE being your whore,” Niki moaned.
I slapped her. It was something I had never done before. I knew that kinky couples sometimes got rough, but I had never been close to a kinky couple before. The two hands on her throat and her moaning for punishment sent me over the edge. My hand struck her cheek. It hasn’t hard, but it was enough to hear the smacking noise of skin on skin. Her head turned to the side.
“Yes!” she squealed. “Yes, thank you sir!”
Well that erased any sense of inhibitions left. I slapped her massive, lovely tits, watching them shake about inside the red mesh. She moaned in delight and I did it again. Then I slapped her face again.
Her pussy had taken up an aggressive rhythm on my dick. I was feeling a climax rapidly approaching, driven faster by the depravation that was fulfilling the dark fantasies I had never dared bring up with a girl.
“I am your whore,” she chanted. “Your property. Your private plaything. Your personal fuckdoll. Ohhhhh… own me, sir. Fucking dominate me.”
I wanted to cum, but I also wanted something else. This had been her idea, to ride me while I choked and slapped her. And it was a great idea. But to finish and really ride my power trip to the end, I wanted her to follow my order.
I reached up, placed my palm against her head, filled my hand with her hair, and pulled her face close to mine. She gasped. The sudden, unexpected motion broke the rhythm of her hips. Her eyes were locked onto mine and I saw something that almost made me cum right there. In her gaze was a desperate, unabashed need to please. She had went from entertaining to waiting for orders in a snap. I could do whatever I wanted with this bitch. I just had to say the word.
“Get down there and suck me off,” I commanded. “Swallow every fucking drop.” I let her hand go and gave her face another smack. God I loved that.
“Yes sir!” she said, eagerly scooting down my body. She opened wide and attacked my dick with her throat. Yesterday, it was a tender blowjob, where she had worked her way deeper and deeper. This time, there was no thought about her own body’s limits. She wrapped her lips around my cock, sucked on it so they sealed, and went to work abusing her own face. I worked with her, thrusting my hips up in rhythm, thrusting my cock further into her mouth.
I might have lasted fifteen seconds, but even that could be too generous. Time seems to run slower when you’re getting sucked. I nutted. As soon as I started, I felt Niki’s suction pick up. Her lips never broke seal on the skin of my cock, lest a single drop fall. She continued to work it, jerking my cock with her mouth for a few pumps, then pausing to suck the result down her throat. Then she repeated.
As my orgasm ended, her pattern slowed. She kept my dick in her mouth, even as it began to soften. A swirling, eager tongue explored, searching for any remaining drop. Gentle suction eased out the last bits from my cock. I watched her work, admiring her dedication. Finally, after apparently being satisfied she had swallowed it all, my dick emerged from her mouth.
She smiled up at me, apparently eager to please and awaiting for more orders. Not for the first time, I admired those lovely tits. She was freakishly hot—made even more so from her desperation to please.
I stood, looking around for my pants and eventually deciding I didn’t need them. I looked down at Niki, who had taken up a pose in my bed that showcased her body very well.
I was still riding the power trip. I leaned down, patted her head, and said, “Good whore.” As she was beginning to smile, I initiated the command in my head. Niki’s smile quickly dissolved into a surprised, eager ecstasy. She writhed, moaned, and tossed about my bed. I stood over her, watching her.
“Yes sir!” she began squealing. “Yes sir! Yes sir!”
I liked that. In fact, I liked almost everything about this scenario. I liked that she had sent me nudes without prompting. I liked that she had behaved as my whore and followed my orders. I liked that she was addicted to what only I could give her. I liked the twisted little relationship we had. I liked using her and I knew she liked what I gave her.
She finished and lay on my bed, panting. “Ohhhhh thank you sir,” she moaned.
Impulsively, I decided I wanted her to be an eager little whore. I wanted her hooked. I focused on her again and gave another mental command. She started again.
As she came, I walked to the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water, took a sip, and listened to the whore in my bed cum. I listened to the pure joy in her voice.
Finally, she finished for the second time. Her breath was heaves, desperately trying to fill her lungs. When she recovered enough to speak, she only whimpered, “Oh thank you. Oh thank you. Oh thank you.”
I grabbed another bottle of water, walked back to the fridge, and outstretched it to her. Niki sat up, took the water, and looked up at me.
“Did I blow your mind?” she asked.
“No,” I said, again reveling in the power trip. “But I decided that I like you being an eager whore for me, so I wanted to give you an extra one. Just to keep you…” I thought of the word, thought about not using it, then decided I could be honest. “…needy.”
Niki nodded furiously up at me. “Thank you, sir.”
I found my underwear and pulled them on. I glanced at the TV, which was showing the video in red that Niki had recorded.
“I had no idea you had so much lingerie,” I said.
“Well I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a lot of options,” Niki said, sipping her own water.
I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean? Did you… did you just buy this stuff?”
Niki glanced at the TV, which changed to the picture with the text on it. “Yeah, today. I wanted to make sure I was ready to give you something new, so I took a sick day and went to one of those stores.”
“You… you took a sick day?” I said, processing this.
“Yes,” Niki said. “But don’t worry. If you want me to take another, I have two left for the year. I can entertain you all day if you want.” Her voice dropped into her seductive caliber, but I wasn’t in that frame of mind.
“No,” I said. “No, I don’t want… how much did this all cost?”
Niki realized suddenly that I wasn’t happy. She named a figure. An absurd figure. Quickly, she hurried to add, “But don’t worry, I have plenty in savings.”
“So the very first day after fucking me, you took a sick day so you could spend a chunk of savings on lingerie and send me an album of it all,” I said. “Is that true?”
Niki nodded, looking very much like a chastened child all of a sudden. “I… thought you would like it.”
“I… I do,” I confessed, “but I’m worried. I don’t want you to…” I took a moment, collecting my thoughts, and started again. “I like having fun with you. And I like this arrangement we have come to. But I don’t want to wreck your life. I don’t want you to lose your job because you’re skipping work to make me happy. And I don’t want you spending all your savings to fulfill my fantasies. I don’t want to ruin your life on account of me.”
“It’s not ruined,” Niki said. “I had the sick days. I had the savings. This is just how I decided to use it.”
“Ok, but what if you keep getting orgasms?” I asked. “Every time I give you one, you get more hooked on them. God, it’s like a drug addiction. I don’t want you strung out, losing your job, losing all your money, chasing a fix.”
“I won’t,” Niki said eagerly. “I promise.”
I heard the words, but I also thought that this might just be what she wanted me to believe. I pursed my lips, then decided to try a different tactic.
“Good, because if you did lose your job and your savings… you couldn’t live here anymore. You’d be evicted. Then, you wouldn’t be right down the hall anymore. You wouldn’t really be around to play with anymore. And you wouldn’t be getting your orgasms.”
Niki’s eyes were large and afraid. “Oh…” she said softly.
I had a line on her. I decided to push it. “See, I’m happy to fuck you and give you orgasms, but if that’s your whole life then it doesn’t last anymore. You need your job. Your savings. Your future plans. Your family and friends and all that. You had a life before all of this. And you still need that. Because if I start to think that I ruined your life, I’m going to have to cut you off. Morally, for my sake.” Her eyes were still large and she was nodding along, focused very intently on my words.
“So I still want you to do… you know… things,” I said. “Go to work. Go out with friends. Save money for the future. Have a life. And if you can do all of that and still be my whore, then I’ll keep giving you orgasms. Ok?”
Niki nodded fervently and began speaking rapidly, “I’m sorry if I disappointed you, sir. It won’t happen again. I promise. I’ll be…”
“You didn’t disappoint me,” I cut in. Niki’s mouth snapped shut as soon as I started speaking. “You just… scared me a little.” I thought a moment, then said, “Do you still have receipts for the lingerie?”
Niki’s face paled slightly. “Yes. Did… did you want me to return it?”
I thought a moment, then decided that the damage was more or less done. “No, not all of it,” I said. “But some of it isn’t my style.” An idea popped into my head. “How about you go get all of it. You do a little fashion show for me. I’ll tell you what I like and what can go back.”
Niki’s face lit up. “Yes! I would love that!”
I sat on the couch. Niki changed in the bathroom, then stepped out in each outfit. She “walked the runway” in my living room, then came closer and presented herself for closer inspection. I felt her up, spanked her ass, squeezed her tits, and gave her my opinion. Throughout most of the process, I took pictures with my phone. I was really getting into the idea that she was my property—by her own declaration.
Midway through one fashion show, I got a text from an unknown number. I held up a finger and Niki paused, patiently.
The text said, “This is Madi, from the elevator. I’m game to play the porn star in exchange for another orgasm. When did you want me?”
I looked up at Niki, currently dressed in a sort of fishnet teddy. I texted back, “Tomorrow. I’m busy tonight. How’s 6:30?”
Madi text back with a thumbs up. I closed the texting app, smiled at Niki, and said, “Continue.”
In the end, I told Niki to keep most of the lingerie she had picked up. Some leather—like the collar around her neck—stayed, but most of it covered her up too much and went in the return pile. When we were finished with the fashion show, it was almost 9. It had been an hour or so since our last orgasms and I had gotten hard again pretty quickly through the lingerie show. Niki ended up wearing one of the flimsy underthings and riding my cock on the couch while I buried my face in between her fantastic tits. I was tempted to command her to orgasm while she rode me, just to really drive home the association, but I was afraid that she might break rhythm. I pushed the spaghetti strand sleeve off her shoulder so I could suck on her tits. I had one in my mouth and a handful of the other when I came inside her. She was giggling in my ear and doing all of the work. It was fantastic.
She climbed off me, I commanded her to cum, she did, then she took all of her lingerie and went back to her own apartment.
I slept very well that night.
Despite my chastising of Niki the night before, I called in sick to work. I had an idea for how to translate my newfound gift to profit, if only I could find the right people. After some research and a little footwork, I had come across Phyllis McReynolds, a 50-something widow to a wealthy business owner. She was very nice when she answered the door. After demonstrating my ability to give her the mind-blowing orgasm, I left her with my number and told her that I would happily perform the service again for the right price.
Barely an hour later, I got a call from Ms. McReynolds, offering $2,000 per service and wanting to set up regular, weekly appointments. I agreed and stopped by my job to quit in person. I was told it was very unprofessional to quit without two weeks notice, but I didn’t really care at this point. I left, riding high.
Sure, I was technically now a gigolo, in that I got paid to give women orgasms, but having spent the previous two nights being entertained by a very whore-ish Niki, I wasn’t exactly feeling unreputable.
That night, at 6:30, Madi stopped by. She had a small bag with her and asked for my bathroom to change. I agreed and she emerged, wearing some fun lingerie. She got on her knees and sucked well enough. She got me there and eventually I came on her face, just like we agreed. I confess, after the levels of depravity that Niki had sunken to, this was more or less a step down. I gave her an orgasm (only the second for Madi), but it almost felt more like a chore.
I decided that honesty had worked very well with Niki. “I gotta be honest,” I said to Madi as she wiped her face clean. “I’ve been fucking another girl. Well, actually, you saw her on Sunday.”
“The girl with the big boobs, black lingerie, and the jacket?” Madi said.
“Yeah, her,” I said. “Both that night and last night, she really whored it up for more. It was kind of a blast. In fact, I was so pleased on both occasions that she walked out with three orgasms both times.” This seemed to catch Madi’s interest.
“Three? All in the same night?”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“Well what did she have to do?” Madi asked. I realized that this was the part that was boring me of Madi.
“It’s not that she had to do anything,” I said. “I told her to impress me. To try to blow my mind. Not just check off a box, but to really come prepared with ideas for fun.”
Madi looked down at the lingerie she wore. “This is the only time I’ve ever dressed like this and jerked a guy off onto my face. And this isn’t blowing your mind?”
“To be very honest,” I said, “this is quickly becoming commonplace for me.” I shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, it was fun and everything. And I held up our side of the deal. But… yeah. She was a lot more fun. I’ll probably be retaining her services more than yours.”
I could tell Madi was upset. To be fair, I was being a dick, but I also felt entitled. I had the ability to give the world’s best orgasm. Why should I settle for anything less than the best for trade. Madi obviously wanted to tell me off, but I think that the memory of the orgasm was still fresh in her mind and she didn’t want to burn any bridges.
“I think we’re done here,” I said. “We both got what we came for. So…” I shrugged. “…give me a text if you want to have any more fun. We’ll see if I’m available.”
Madi pulled a shirt on over her lingerie, gave me a thin smile, and left the apartment.
I sat down on the couch and thought about texting Niki. I knew that she would be over here in an instant, wearing something unrespectable and begging to be disgraced. I had just cum, but that sounded like a lot more fun. Still, I was aware that I had given Niki eight orgasms in three days. I was quickly making an addict of her. While that meant a lot of fun for me, I didn’t want to completely string her out. Besides, my dick could use some rest.
I played some video games, going a little later into the night than I would have otherwise. I didn’t have to get up for work the next day, after all.
At around 10PM, I got a text from Niki. It was a link to a new shared album. I grew afraid, worried that she had repeated the previous day, taken more sick time, and bought more lingerie. Even so, I would eagerly look at the pictures.
It was a single video in the shared album. The album was titled, “Your Whore’s Video Diaries”. I played the first video.
Niki was wearing one of the outfits that I had told her to keep. She was kneeling in front of the webcam and looked spectacular.
“Hello sir,” she said with a smile. “I decided to do a quick video so you know that I’m being a good girl. I went to work today, worked very hard, and caught up from what I missed yesterday. I called my parents after work and ate a healthy dinner.” She paused, gave a wicked smile, and added, “Of course, I couldn’t entirely keep you out of my head. I wondered a lot if you wanted to tie me up and fuck me. I was thinking that maybe you could tie me on my knees, with my hands behind my back. If you tied me to something solid, like a table or a bed, you could really go to town on my face. I like choking on your dick.” She shrugged. “If this sounds fun to you, let me know and I can pick up some rope or handcuffs.” She giggled. “Or both. But in any event, I wanted you to know that my life is continuing onward and my need for you has not disrupted it today. I promise. You didn’t fuck me today—and that’s totally okay, of course—but I also wanted you to know that I wanted it. I wanted to be used by you all day.”
She smiled stood a little straighter to give a better view of her body, and said, “Anyways, this is your whore’s video diary of the day. I’m going to do these so you know that I’m being a good girl for you. Also, so you know I’m always willing whenever you want to fuck me.” She blew a kiss to the camera, then the video cut.
I watched it twice and had to convince myself not to text her right then and there. I gave her props, of course. She knew what I was afraid of and was taking steps to assure me that my fears weren’t realized. Also, she was filling my mind with fantasies. I told myself again that she had gotten eight orgasms in three days. Today was day four. It was good to give her a rest.
Besides, I could give her a text tomorrow.
I slept in late, played some video games in the morning, and went out for lunch. While out, I swung by a hardware store and picked up some rope. When I got home, I took a picture of it and sent it to Niki with the text, “6:30. Fishnet bra and panties. Leather collar.”
She texted back, “Yes sir!” And again immediately after: “Thank you sir!”
With my evening plans set, I caught a movie.
At 6:30 sharp, there was a knock on my door. Having not established the protocol for covering her or not covering her, I was unsurprised to find that Niki had not covered herself when moving the four doors down to my apartment. This time, there was someone in the hallway, down at the other end. It was a man, holding his mail, and with his feet apparently fastened in place. I let in my whore, waived to him, and closed the door.
While my furniture wasn’t sturdy enough to actually tie her to, I did tie her hands behind her back, put her on her knees in front of the bed, and went to town on her throat. Niki opened wide and took the abuse. Periodically, I pulled my dick out of her mouth. She would take a big gasp, smile, and say, “Thank you, sir! More please, sir!” After a little while, I got tired and she started setting the pace. Her whole body seemed to bob with the motion as she thrust her face down on my dick. I videoed it with my phone as she looked up at me and the camera with eagerness-to-please plastered over her face. Speaking of plastering her face, when it came time I pulled out of her mouth and jerked myself off onto her face. I was mildly disappointed to do the work myself, but her hands were tied and I liked the submission more than I cared about a little wrist action. I covered her face, doing by best to spread the cum equally across her. Having emptied my balls frequently this week, my coverage wasn’t that thorough, but enough to make me happy. I popped my cock back into her mouth, so she could suck that last bit out. Then, I put my boxers on, took a step back, and looked at my work.
The blonde from down the hall, who I had fantasized over for months but never had the guts to talk to, was tied up at the foot of my bed—which was her idea, by the way—wearing lingerie that I had picked, and with a face covered in my cum. I silently thanked my Uncle Pete.
I could have untied her, wiped off her face, and made her comfortable, but I didn’t want to. I focused on her and commanded her to cum. She writhed about, moaning, panting, and generally having the time of her life. After she was finished, she thanked me profusely. Only then did I untie her hands and tell her to go wipe off her face.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to swallow it?” she said, looking up at me with a wicked smile.
Having gotten off and more or less calmed down, I returned with a more innocent smile. “Not tonight.” She got a paper towel and wiped her face off.
“Well that was fun,” I observed mildly.
“Yes!” Niki agreed eagerly.
“I’m… well I’m glad that you are also going to work and living life and all that,” I said. “I… well I like you. And I want to make sure you’re doing well outside of just the orgasms.”
“Thank you,” Niki said warmly. “Maybe I did… well… get carried away. I just… I just wanted to make you happy.”
“And I confess, I am really enjoying having such an eager whore,” I said with a laugh.
Niki smiled, licked her lips, and said, “I actually had an idea. I wanted to… well… see if you’re interested.”
“The rope was your idea,” I observed.
“Yes, but this is a bit more… adventurous,” Niki said. I gestured a “go ahead” motion and Niki took a deep breath, apparently steeling herself. “So I’m having some friends over on Friday night. Three friends from college. They’re… well… they’re all very hot. I think you’d like them. I was thinking that you could… you know… stop over.”
“What, and fuck them?” I said. “I don’t know, Niki. I only get to do what I do to you because you’re hooked on the orgasms.”
“That’s actually what I meant,” Niki said. “What if you came by, said hello, and gave them all orgasms?” She hurriedly added, “Not for their benefit, but for yours. You know, to make them… like me.”
“You want me to turn your other hot friends into whores that I can play with?” I said, wanting to make sure I got this right.
Niki nodded, apparently nervous how I was going to take it.
“Why?” I said. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll… I don’t know… play with you less?”
“Actually,” Niki said tentatively, “I was thinking that we could all entertain you together. I was thinking how much fun you could have all at once.” She hesitated, then added, “Truthfully, I was hoping that a party of all my hot friends—that I brought to you—entertaining you at all once… I was hoping it would be rather mind-blowing.”
Now it made more sense. She wanted the three-orgasm night. And her idea was to enslave her friends to the orgasm addiction as well. I had to admire her ingenuity. Frankly, I also admired the idea that I didn’t have to recruit a bunch of girls myself. Approaching girls in the hallway was a pretty high-risk way of “making friends”. This way might be easier.
“Do you have pictures of them?” I asked thoughtfully.
“I do,” Niki smiled. She had saved several pictures to her phone. Good girl that she was, they were bikini pictures. I admired each one and approved.
“Ok,” I said, thoughtfully. “So Madi, the girl you saw on Sunday, was in here last night. She’s comparatively tame, next to you. And I think it’s because I only gave her one orgasm. I hooked you with two. If we are going to make them whores… like you… enough to play with all at once, I might have to give them a little more.”
We made a plan.
On Friday night, as Niki’s friends started showing up, Niki made no attempt to hide that she had been “getting dicked” by a guy down the hall and that I was giving her the most intense, explosive orgasms of her life. She neglected to mention the manner by which I gave them, but freely admitted, “I’ve been buying sexy lingerie and doing a lot of crazy, sexy stuff to satisfy him, just so he’ll give me that orgasm.”
When one of her friends inevitably referred to me as a boyfriend, Niki quickly corrected her. “It’s not like a relationship like that. I’m… well.. I fully acknowledge that I’m a booty call for him. But genuinely, the sex is so amazing, I don’t care.” If this seemed out of character to Niki’s friends, the next statement was another language all together. “In fact, I know he’s got a lot of girls to choose from, so I have to try my upmost to blow his mind in return so he’ll choose me.”
“Wait, he’s sleeping with other girls too?” one friend, a redhead named Abby—who despite having a name that ends in ‘y’, was no less hot for it—said. She was appalled.
“Oh yes,” Niki said. She cocked her head to the side, and said, “Why, do you want to give it a try?”
“What? No!” Abby said. “I’m… what?”
The proper seeds planted, Niki discretely sent me a text. I walked down the hall and knocked on Niki’s door.
Niki looked through the peephole, made an excited gasp, and exclaimed to her friends, “It’s him!” She opened the door.
“Hello, sir,” Niki gushed at me. She shifted from foot to foot nervously, then said, “Do you want to come in?”
“Sure,” I said with a shrug. As I stepped inside, I caught Abby mouthing ‘Sir?’ to another friend.
“I was just telling my friends that the orgasms that you give me are mind-blowing above anything else,” Niki gushed. The other friends in the room looked up with alarm, shocked that Niki had so freely disclosed the topic of conversation.
“Oh, is that so?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t think they believe me,” Niki said with a ‘they’re-so-silly’ smile. “Why don’t you show them?”
Abby stood, indignant. “Alright, this has gone…”
I focused on her and thought, “Cum”. Abby’s words cut off and she stood on her feet, dumbly, for a moment. “Oh.” She said simply. Then, “Oh! Ohhh! Ohhhhhhh!”
Another friend, Valerie, looked up with alarm. She had thick brown curls that I found very charming. Her tits were also charming, but I would get to that later. I focused on her next and gave the command. Valerie whimpered, then started gasping in surprise.
The last friend, Emma, looked rapidly between her two orgasming friends, possibly convinced she was being pranked. I focused on her and proved that she wasn’t. Emma was a brunette and had a sort of hipster vibe that reminded me of the barista in the coffee shop. She had a sort of body-rock with the orgasm, where she lifted her hips and then dropped them again.
I looked around at the three girls, all deep in their first “world’s best orgasm”. I decided on a whim that Niki shouldn’t be left out. I focused on her and commanded her in my brain.
“Oh! Thank you!” she squealed, then took a knee and began to ride out the pleasure.
Abby’s orgasm ended, but I wasn’t done. I focused on her again and commanded her again. She immediately started writhing again. When Valerie ended, I restarted her as well. Emma ended and I started her right back up.
As I listened to the moans around me, for the first time I wondered what the neighbors would hear. I decided it was too late to not sound like a sex party. For the next sixty seconds or so, I played a perverse game of whack-a-mole. When one girl finished, I gave her another. Feeling generous, this included Niki.
After three or four each, I decided it was enough. Niki’s friends sat, panting or making odd whimpering noises. Niki herself was the last one cumming, perhaps because the orgasms seemed to get longer the more that I gave them.
When Niki finished, she quickly hurried to her knees in front of me. She pressed her face against my crotch, feeling my hard cock beneath my jeans. This wasn’t a part of the plan, but neither had her getting an orgasm—much less the three that I had just given her. I should probably stop doing that to this girl. I was a little worried that I had broken her. She was pressing her lips against the bulge in my jeans, while her hushed voice kept saying, “Thank you sir. Thank you sir.” It occurred to me that this was the first time since Day 1 where she had gotten an orgasm before getting me off. I thought that she was confused, trying to “catch up” and please me, but still riding the high of the triple orgasm.
I reached down, gently tugging on her hair. “It’s ok,” I said softly. “You’ll thank me more properly for this later, won’t you?”
Niki’s eyes opened wide and she nodded fervently. “I promise, I’ll make you so happy.”
I thought that perhaps I should lower my voice, but I partly wanted the other girls to hear this to. I said, “How about you come over all day tomorrow. You’ll be my plaything, thank me properly for these gifts, and entertain me all day long. And if you do really, really well, I’ll give you another one before I send you home at the end of the day.”
“Oh, yes please sir,” she panted. “I will make you so happy. I’ll fuck you so good. I’ll be the perfect little whore for you.”
“I know,” I smiled.
I looked around at the other girls. All of them had eyes fixed on me. They were confused, maybe even a little afraid, but each one also showed a sort of reverence or intrigue. They knew what I could give now. And thanks to the more genuine interaction between Niki and I, they now knew the sort of cost I asked for it.
“Girls, it was nice to meet you all,” I said. “I don’t think I caught your names, but… still.”
I started to turn to the door. It was Abby that called out.
“Wait! You… you could stay if you want,” Abby said. She looked around at the other girls for support. “Right?”
“Yes, of course,” Emma said.
“We’ll open some wine,” Valerie said.
“Thanks, but not right now,” I said. “I don’t mean to intrude on girls’ night.” I smiled warmly and let myself out. Truthfully, I would have loved to stay and play with them, but I wanted them to have some time to think about what I had given them. I wanted them to miss it. And I wanted them to hear straight from Niki about what it took to earn them—in detail. That way, when they came back for more, they would be ready.
Also, Madi was in my apartment, trying to play whore better this time. She had already served me dinner in a skimpy little outfit, danced while I ate it, and had played model for me and my camera. Then, I had fucked her tight ass while she begged for more. After I came, I gave her an orgasm and told her to hang out. I wanted to go another round with her that night. Right now, she was kneeling in my living room with a dildo in her mouth, waiting for me to replace it with something more real.
There was time enough for all girls to earn their orgasms.
When I rolled over in the morning, I had a text from Niki: “Sir, I am ready to serve.” It came with a picture to prove it. I could tell the extra work she had put into making her hair full and pretty. Her make-up was spectacular. Her body, encased in a sort of fishnet bodysuit with holes at the crotch, looked spectacular as well.
I looked at the time the text was sent. While I had woken up at 8AM, the text had been sent at 6AM. Combined with the effort to look sexy, she must have been up at the crack of dawn. I stood up, wandered over to my door, unlocked it, and then collapsed back into bed.
“Come and serve then. Door unlocked,” I texted.
I slept in my boxers, but I discarded those on the ground next to the bed, just to be ready.
Niki’s perfection hadn’t dwindled at all since 6AM that morning. In fact, I think that front-loading the orgasms and having her catch up afterwards only made her more eager to please. Each dive of her mouth on my dick was accompanied by the faint sound of a gag being pushed through. Not just content to push her lips against the base of my cock, she actually pulled her lips back into her mouth so that she could fit more dick in her throat.
In an echo of our first fuck, I ordered her to get me off with her tits. With genuine joy on her face, she wrapped her tits around my dick and began bouncing. “I’m such a lucky whore, sir. I… I only want to please you. I want you to use my body, my face, my tits, my pussy, my ass… I want to be your perfect slut, sir.” I came. Madi had drained me with her own blowjob the night before, but I still was able to put some cum onto Niki’s fishnet-clad tits. This time, I did watch as she lifted her massive tits to her mouth and licked the cum off of them, all the while staring at me with an unabashed lust.
When she finished sucking the last bit of cum out of my dick, she smiled and said, “Would you like breakfast, sir?”
“Sure,” I said.
“How about bacon and eggs?” she said. “I brought them over from my place.” Apparently she had left a bag by the door, which I now saw.
“I don’t want you cooking bacon dressed like that,” I observed mildly. “Grease and all that. Eggs and toast. I have bread and butter in the cabinet and fridge.”
She made breakfast, putting milk and cheese in the eggs and a cinnamon/sugar mix on the toast. While cooking, she also put on a pot of coffee and poured me a glass of orange juice. She carried the plate to me, at which point I realized I had no tray for breakfast in bed.
“You can eat off of me,” Niki offered. “My belly or my back. I’ll stand very still.”
As much as I appreciated her desperation to please me, I elected to eat at my table. She stood at attention next to me until I ordered her to sit.
“How did things go with your friends?” I asked.
“Good,” Niki nodded. “I explained that you could give orgasms like that by just thinking it. They were hesitant to believe it at first, but… of course… the evidence was sort of undeniable.” I smiled and she continued. “I told them that orgasms had to be earned. I suggested mildly that maybe a group sex thing might convince you to give them another one, but I wasn’t sure. If they wanted, I could ask you. I told them that even with a group, it would have to be really kinky… really depraved… they would have to behave like whores or else not even bother showing up. They told me they would think about it.” She hesitated. “I… I am sorry I could not get them to agree right away. I’ve thought about what else I could have said, but you told me not to push too much…”
“You did exactly right,” I observed, taking a sip of orange juice. “Trust me, they’ll talk themselves into it. Just let it lay and they’ll come back to you.”
“Yes sir,” Niki said eagerly.
I quickly learned that I could only fuck so much in one day. Having a whore all day long sounded great last night, but I had to recharge at some point. Niki, however, was eager to serve. She understood that I couldn’t fuck all day long, so she quickly took to cleaning my apartment. Still clad only in that lovely fishnet body-suit, she scrubbed my bathroom, cleaned my kitchen, scrubbed the shelves of my fridge, dusted, did all my laundry—although I did insist that she wear something over the fishnets when she left the apartment, especially if she was going down to the laundry room. It got to the point that when I was horny, I partially didn’t want to interrupt her, because she was doing chores that I hated doing or had never even thought to do. But, my horniness normally won out. Thankfully, I had the peace of mind to order her to wash her hands in between scrubbing with cleaning chemicals and fucking me.
It occurred to me that I hadn’t fucked her ass yet. In the morning time, I bent her over my bed and gave it a try. She moaned like… well… like a whore. I pulled hard on her hair. Despite not getting anything out of it, she still chanted, “Yes! Fuck that slutty little ass! Fuck it! Oh god yes!” Because I felt like disgracing her, I ordered her down onto her knees and had her suck me off. If she minded, she didn’t show it at all. She was only eager to please.
In fact, she seemed especially desperate to please. When she stripped my bed so she could do the sheets, I thought she was just being thorough. When she took the utensil older out of the drawer so she could wipe down beneath it, I thought that maybe she grew up with some odd quirks when it came to cleaning. But when she removed the covering of the lights in the kitchen and began to scrub away the dust that had accumulated, I realized something more was at play here.
“Niki, come here,” I said. She quickly descended the chair, set the cover of the light down on the counter, and presented herself in front of me.
“Yes sir?” she said.
“What is going on?” I said softly. “Why are you… um… so eager?”
“I want to please you, sir,” she said. “Am… am I not pleasing you?”
“You are, but… I don’t understand why you’re…” I paused and it occurred to me that she understood what I was asking. “Tell me the truth, Niki. What is going on?”
“Sir, I’m just… I’m so afraid of… of… of not doing well enough for you,” Niki said. “You ordered me to serve today. You gave me my orgasms in advance. I want to make sure… I want to make sure that I earn them. I… I need to earn them. I need to make you happy.” She was on the point of tears.
“Or what?” I said softly, beginning to understand.
“Or I’m afraid you’ll send me away,” she said, her voice breaking again. “I’m afraid that I might make a mistake or make you displeased and you’ll not want me anymore.” In my head, I filled in the ‘and you’ll take the orgasms with you’. She pursed her lips, shook her head, and I saw glistening in her eyes. “No. No, sir. I will be a perfect whore for you. I will earn them. I promise you. And when I can’t be your whore, I’ll be perfect in other ways. I’ll… I’ll please you. Every second, I’ll please you.”
“Niki,” I said softly. “Straddle me.” Niki quickly climbed on top of me, grinding her bare pussy—exposed in the fishnet bodysuit—on my dick. Having given her something to focus on, the tears appeared further away.
“Niki, I want you to listen to me,” I said softly. “You are the best whore I have ever had. So far, you are my perfect fucktoy. And I’m not about to cut you loose. I promise.”
“Thank you, sir,” Niki said. “I only want… I only want to please you.”
“And you are,” I said, earnestly. “How about this? If I find that you don’t please me in some way, I promise you that I will let you know first, so that you have the opportunity to rectify the situation. I won’t just cut you loose.” I smiled, then added, “It’s hard to imagine a wrong you could make that you couldn’t solve by sucking my brains out through my dick.”
Niki giggled, grinding her pussy harder against me. I was getting hard, just from the motion.
“You are a perfect, fucking whore,” I assured her again.
“Thank you sir,” Niki said. “Oh, thank you so much. Oh thank you sir.”
“Thank me with that little pussy of yours, bitch,” I commanded, tugging on my boxers. She obeyed, freeing my cock and riding it. I sucked on her tits, came in her pussy, and she spent the entire time whispering in my ear that she was my whore—my property.
Then, she went back to work.
There was a football game on in the evening. I didn’t follow sports too closely, but my team had a big game and I liked to pop in from time to time. When I turned it on, Niki presented herself by my side.
“Sir, I think I have a surprise that you’ll like. May I change?”
I thought that it was an odd time to ask that, but said, “Sure.”
She went back to her bag and I forgot about her for a moment, while kickoff approached. Niki appeared next to me again a few minutes later and I forgot about the game.
She wore a jersey halter top and a miniskirt—tiny even by miniskirt standards. Both were in my team’s colors. I quickly ascertained that she was not wearing underwear under either piece.
“What is this?” I said, an excited grin on my face.
“I… I found you on Facebook,” Niki said. “I saw you at a game in the public pictures. I thought that you might like me in this.”
“Hell yeah,” I grinned at her. “It’s almost kick-off.” I pointed down to my crotch. “Suck.”
She did. She sucked me during all four quarters. When I came in her mouth, she swallowed, cleaned with her tongue, and then continued to tease me. Even when my dick was emptied and soft, her tongue caressed my balls. She planted soft kisses on my shaft. She took the tip in her lips and gave a gentle suck, just to see if I wanted to go another round. It was a weird—although not unenjoyable—cycle of her sucking me off, teasing me back to attention, and then sucking me off again. My team won, but more importantly I learned how much better football was with a whore’s mouth on your cock.
Before bed, I had her ride me one more time. I was really enjoying sitting on the couch and having her ride her pussy on me until I came inside her. With the jersey top pulled up so I could see her tits, Niki got me off one more time. I had actually lost count of how many times I had cum today.
“Thank you for today,” I said as she pulled her wet pussy off of my rapidly-softening cock.
“No, sir,” Niki said. “Thank you for letting me serve you.”
“You’ve done well,” I observed. “Lay down.” I was tempted to catch her off guard again, but she really had done well today and I wanted to reward her. Niki laid down on the couch as I got up and pulled my boxers back on. I gave her an orgasm. As she was writhing, I went and brushed my teeth. When I was done, I came back into the room and saw her standing in the living room, the bag that she had brought packed full again.
“Sir, may I be of any other service today?” Niki asked.
“No, I’m all emptied out for today,” I said with a smile.
Niki smiled, hesitated, and then said, “Can I… Can I serve you again tomorrow?”
“What?” I said, an eyebrow raised.
“This has been one of the best days… ever…” Niki said. “Can I… can I serve you again tomorrow?”
“No,” I said, with a gentle smile. “Tomorrow you’re going to go live the rest of your life. Maybe if I’m horny, I’ll give you a call, but I want you to go do normal stuff tomorrow.”
“Yes sir,” Niki nodded.
“Go,” I said with a dismissive thumb to the door. Niki hurried out, at least dressed in the jersey and skirt. I knew it was dismissive and rude, but I also knew that she would take exactly zero offense.
I stayed awake for a little bit, messing around on my phone. After a little while, I decided to check in on her video diary album. She had made one every day. Most of the week had been assurances that she was going to work, followed by kinky suggestions for their next fucking. I hadn’t watched the last night’s one—from after Niki’s party with her friends. I put it on.
“I get to serve you tomorrow, sir,” she gushed. She had to have filmed it after her friends had left, but had taken the time to dress in one of the lingerie outfits and perfect her makeup. “I get to spend the whole day as your fucktoy. I just… I can’t wait. I’m such a lucky girl, sir. I will make you so happy. I promise.” It continued like that for almost three minutes, just pure excitement and joy.
I closed that one and saw that she had posted a new entry, just a minute ago. I opened it.
“It was everything I could have hoped it would be,” Niki said, still wearing the jersey, but having pulled it up over her tits. “Serving you is the greatest fulfillment I have ever felt. The orgasms are great, but… but it seems to be so much more. I promise, I’ll keep on my life, like you want. I know I can’t be your whore all day every day, but… I want to be.” She paused, almost sad, and added, “Even if you hadn’t given me that orgasm at the end. Or even last night. I… I just want to serve you.” She blew a kiss and closed the video.
It wasn’t quite making sense to me. Uncle Pete had said that the orgasms were addictive, but… this seemed to be more than that. I didn’t quite understand this, to be honest. It made sense that they would trade—kinky whore for mind-blowing orgasms. But… could I believe her when she said the orgasms didn’t even matter that much? I didn’t know.
I wondered if there was something more than all of this. Something Pete hadn’t told me—or hadn’t known. Or maybe I was just believing a girl so addicted to the orgasms that she would do anything to keep them coming. I didn’t know.
I decided not to fuck Niki the next day. We needed a rest. So I texted Madi and fucked her instead. It was tame, because I was tired from the day before, but I got off and she went away.
At the end of the day, Niki texted me: “All three girls are willing to be whores together for you. None of them can wait.”
I smiled, but I also felt a little wicked. I knew that I had them in the palm of my hand. No girl had yet received an orgasm from me and had resisted becoming my whore. This text here proved that. And the “service” I had received from Niki the prior day made me curious. I texted back, “What’s their proposal?”
I smiled and went to bed, knowing that the girls now had to deal with the rubber meeting the road. Yes, they had agreed to be whores, but what did that mean? It was up to them to try to please me.
I found out from Niki later that they had debated late into the night, trying to figure out what a “proposal” meant. Was that positions? Was that costumes? Lingerie? I had been purposely vague. In the end, they had decided to “go big” and overshoot any one specific service they provided.
In the morning, I received the text: “Abby’s family has a cabin. We’re going on Thursday night. All girls promise to be good entertainment all weekend long.” I will admit, I was impressed. I had left it in their court to decide how to impress me, but they had delivered with more than I would have propositioned them with.
I thought about it through most of the morning, also enjoying leaving the suspense. Again, I heard later through Niki that numerous texts were exchanged through the morning, asking if anyone had received news yet. For my part, I wanted to be sure I knew how to craft a response in the right way. Obviously, I was going to the cabin and was going to fuck them, but how did I get them to perform the best for me? How did I motivate them?
I thought about proposing “One orgasm for everyone, the best whore of the weekend gets three.” I was worried, however, that this would lead to competing bitches instead of collaborating. I didn’t want to fuck them one at a time and have the girls trying to outfuck each other. I wanted to fuck four of them, all of them slutting it up together. At about lunchtime, I had an idea, to motivate them. It occurred to me that team members were often motivated by the fear of letting down their teammates. I could do the same sort of thing.
I texted back: “I’m in. Every night, if I’m satisfied then everyone gets one orgasm.” This was to further their devotion to me throughout the weekend, lest they wonder on day 2 of 4 why they’re doing so much for just an orgasm. “On Sunday, if every girl has gone above and beyond, blown my mind, and shown me a new meaning of ‘filthy whore’, then everyone gets two minutes of continuous orgasm. If one girl slacks, nobody gets it.” I wasn’t super concerned with being transparent about my motivations to use shame, guilt, or peer pressure to push them to be better whores. I didn’t need to be subtle. By the end of the weekend, each of them would be hooked on what only I could give them.
After a few minutes, I got a text back from Niki. “We’re all in. We promise to be the best whores you’ll ever have.”
I didn’t play with my toys all week—especially Niki. On Tuesday night, I needed to get off, so I pulled up her video entries, her pictures, and her texts. Despite the very strong temptation to call her to finish me herself, I jerked myself off. I didn’t want to sate her at all. I wanted her desperately needy to please.
Of course, I could have called Madi, but I also wanted to give myself a rest. I didn’t want to restrict the fun I could have over the weekend by getting off too much throughout the week.
I serviced the widow McReynolds, collected $2,000, and made an appointment for the following week. The exchange took just a minute or two at her place—I wanted to control where and when we did it, so she couldn’t annoy me with extra begging if it came to it. Based on how quickly she opened the door when I rang, how quickly she paid me after, and the way she eagerly offered me coffee, tea, or anything I wanted, I was pretty sure she would start to schedule more than once a week. That would be fine, but I wanted to make sure I wasn’t completely draining her of resources. I didn’t want to be cruel.
I bought a new TV, paid rent early, and still had plenty left for the next week.
I drove out to the cabin on Thursday, doing my very best to not show up as early as I wanted to. I was hard most of the way out there, just in anticipation of the debauchery that awaited me. It was a two-hour drive and I hadn’t fucked anyone in four days—the longest I had gone since receiving Uncle Pete’s ability.
Of course, I found out that the girls had gotten there Thursday morning. They had spent the day preparing, planning, and fantasizing. According to Niki later, they had sworn to each other to leave all inhibitions, values, and restraint behind—for the sake of each other. Apparently, this oath was given in a rather solemn manner.
The cabin was reasonably secluded. I arrived at around 4:30, probably earlier than I had planned, but I left a tad earlier than planned and drove a little faster. I took one, deep breath, got out of my car, and went up to the door.
Before I could knock, the door was open and Abby let me in. The other three girls, Niki, Valerie, and Emma, stood at attention. All three girls looked spectacular.
Aside from the obvious care and intentional-sluttiest that they had put into their makeup, each girl whore a beautiful, lace lingerie in different colors. Abby wore a scarlet set, which matched her red hair. Niki wore black, which paired nicely with the blonde. Valerie’s green lingerie paired well with her brown curls. Emma’s hair—a grown-out blue when I first saw her—was freshly-dyed purple, with lingerie to match. Each set was identical, with lacey bras supporting their substantial tits. Colored garters descended from their underwear to the fishnets adorning their legs. Each girl wore a mesh “cloak” on her shoulders. The result was that while each bitch was heavily adorned, it was carefully done so that they were hiding nothing.
As impressed as I was by the coordinated outfits, what really got me going were the collars. On each girl’s neck was a black leather collar—Niki must have shared that I liked this sort of submissive adornment. Engraved in white on each girl, however, was a title. Niki’s collar read “Whore”, Abby’s read “Bitch”, Valerie’s said “Slut”, and Emma’s said “Hoe”.
I knew at that moment that this was going to be a very fun weekend.
“Hello, sir,” Niki purred. I could see desire in her eyes above the others. Had five days without getting off been taxing for her? How desperately would she fuck? I was eager to find out.
“Sir, thank you for coming, this weekend,” Abby said. “We have been looking forward to it all week.” As she spoke, she took the jacket off of my shoulders with a sort of reverence.
“I confess, I’ve been looking forward to it myself,” I said.
“Sir, we have been talking, and we wanted to let you know that we have come up with a few… uh… rules for this weekend,” Emma said.
I felt impulsive annoyance that sprung to mind at the word “rules”. Had they brought me out here just to turn around and tell me where I could stuff them? I resisted the feeling, waiting to hear the rest.
“The first rule is that our only goal this weekend is your total pleasure and satisfaction,” Valerie said. “We will ask nothing from you and at every moment we will be actively pursuing your pleasure.”
I silently applauded myself for waiting to hear their rules. The first one was pretty good.
“The second,” Abby said, taking up a position next to the other girls, displaying themselves for him in a row, “is that your word is absolute law. While we will do our best to please you, anything you say is a command from on-high. ‘Different whore’, ‘different hole’, ‘deeper’, ‘faster’, ‘harder’… Anything you say is law.”
I smiled. It was similar to what I had told Niki in the beginning. I wanted her to come with plans, but anything I said in the moment overrode those plans. I wondered which bitch I could cum in/on first.
“Sir,” Abby said, “this weekend, we are not women to be respected. We are not girlfriends to be romanced. We are not even booty-calls who you need to not offend.”
“We are property to be used,” Valerie said.
“We are whores to be fucked and abused for your pleasure,” Emma said.
“We are porn,” Niki said, “performed exclusively for you and your pleasure.”
“And if you leave this weekend,” Abby said, “with unfulfilled fantasies… filthy, depraved desires that you someday hope to do… then we have failed you miserably.” She smiled coyly. “And we hope you’ll give us a chance to rectify such a mistake.”
The speeches had been carefully worded, choreographed, and rehearsed. I knew that, but it didn’t matter. That meant that they were actually more genuine, with thought put behind every word.
I smiled. “May I share my intentions for the weekend with you?”
“Yes please, sir,” the girls each said, voices overlapping in eagerness.
“I intend to ruin all of you,” I said. “If you are with another guy and you have to explain your sexual history, I intend to be the thing they can’t get over. I intend to use you without regard to your pleasure, your comfort, or your dignity. And I expect you to beg me… literally beg me… for more. I am going to defile you.
“If there are any of you that don’t want that, you may leave now.”
I waited, knowing that nobody would leave.
“Shall we entertain you, sir?” Valerie said after a moment of silence.
“Yes,” I nodded. “Get to work.”
We started with a four-on-one blowjob, which might as well have been torn straight from my porn watching history. Each girl was on her knees, an eager tongue clamoring to serve. On my selection, Abby was in the middle. I always had a thing for redheads with big tits—there were too few of them in the world—and I wanted to give her a try. While she gobbled down my cock, Emma and Valerie were down low, each gently sucking on one of my balls. Niki stood highest on her knees, giving me a great display of her lingerie-clad tits while she pushed Abby’s head further down on my cock. I had spent some time working away Niki’s gag reflex over the time she had been with me. Abby, however, throated me like a champ for a girl who presumably hadn’t done much of this before.
When I was close, I stood. The girls gathered around, pressing their faces close to each other. They smiled up at me with a sort of innocent glee.
“Tongues out, sluts,” I said. Instantly, all four girls stuck out their tongues, waiting for their treat. I jerked off, with two days of pent-up cum behind it. As I came, I turned slowly, trying to both cover the girls’ faces and give them each a taste. After I succeeded, I turned back to Abby, wanting specifically to cover her. I had a few more pumps left, which I spent on her cheeks while she smiled up at me—tongue still out.
The girls then turned to each other. Without my prompting, they kissed, passionately passing the load from mouth to mouth. Tongues explored each other’s faces, cleaning, savoring, and sharing. This then fueled the next demonstration of the kinky lesbian interplay. Once Abby had been licked clean, she crawled on her hands and knees, a big grin on her face, up to my feet. She nestled my cock into her mouth, sucking gently to get the last bit of cum out.
“Thank you, sir,” Abby said, then opened her mouth to show the last drop on her tongue. She closed, swallowed, and said, “Thank you for this treat.”
It was dinner time. The girls had planned for that too. Once I had the best pasta dinner I had ever eaten (while the girls ate salad), we went another round.
That weekend was some of the most depraved sex I had ever had. While I had plenty of opportunities later to fuck multiple whores at once, this was the first one and that meant that I was especially depraved and yet-unfulfilled. I had plenty of ideas and the girls were happy to accommodate them.
I know I went lighter that first night, taking my turns on each of them. I wanted to test out their boundaries, make sure that they were really committed, and really see what I liked about each one of their holes. I was glad I did that too, because I found that, while each of them tried very hard, some were naturally better at different things. Valerie was a very talented “cowgirl”—when she was on top of me I had to do no work and her pussy entertained my cock brilliantly. I found that Emma was the best at deepthroating—although Niki’s commitment over the prior two weeks had trained her own throat similarly. That also meant that if I motivated them properly, I could fuck away their gag reflexes or train them to perform however I wanted. Finally, I found that Abby was simply the most enthusiastic. When told to get on her knees, she flung herself down. When told to ride, she rode hard. When my cock was down her throat, she had beautiful wide eyes looking right up at me.
At fucking each of them and messing around suitably the first night, I lined them up and gave them one orgasm each. I watched carefully as they enjoyed it, moaned, and finished. After their wits returned to them, they looked at me with wanton invitation, smiled, and asked how else they might serve. I was reasonably confident that each one of them were hooked on what I could give them, so I really started going to town on them the next day.
I don’t actually remember the order of the ways I fucked them. Having four sluts at my command naturally lent itself to extravagant sexual encounters. Throughout the weekend, I enjoyed them numerous ways.
I lined up my whores in a row on a bed, blindfolded them, and commanded them to keep their slutty mouths open. I took turns, picking which whore I wanted to throat fuck. I moved around, surprising them. I started to get into it, slapping their tits while I fucked their faces. Periodically, I would drop my balls into their mouth instead of thrusting my cock in, and the whore would start sucking vigorously. I intended to cum in Emma’s throat, but I kinda got carried away while fucking Valerie’s face.
The “Cabin” was a bit of a misnomer. It had multiple bedrooms, a kitchen, living area, and, out back, a hot tub. We obviously spent a lot of time in that hot tub. We all stripped down to nothing, then slid into the water. Very soon, Valerie was riding my cock, while Emma and Abby rubbed their tits against me, kissed my neck and ear, and whispered horribly wonderful things in my ears. Niki brought tequila over. I took a shot out of Valerie’s belly button—which I had always been curious about—took the salt and lemon off Abby’s tits, then went back to fucking them.
All four girls gave me a long, sensuous shower. Their soapy sponges worked their way over my body, their own skin always in contact with me. The sponges often lingered on my cock, gently stroking it, but pulling away before I really got into a rhythm. They worked me up slowly, relaxing my muscles and making me hornier and hornier. Finally, Abby’s hand was on my cock, stroking hard. I looked down at found that Niki was kneeling in front of me, open mouth and eager eyes. Abby jerked me off onto Niki’s face, then used her sponge again on my cock to clean it off. I never felt more clean and more dirty at the same time.
At one point, I found myself fucking Emma from behind, my hands full of her hair pulling hard. The other girls were surrounding her, shouting, “Take it, whore! Fucking take it! Thank him for it!” Emma was wailing, “Thank you thank you thank you sir thank you…” I came hard that time.
I distinctly remember Abby on her knees in front of me, begging for a facefuck. I distinctly remember her saying, “Fuck my slutty little mouth into oblivion.” That rang through my head as I pounded her face with my dick. She took it like a champ and swallowed eagerly.
I ate every meal with a mouth on my cock and whores in little-to-no-clothing attending me. When I slept, I completely blacked out, a contented exhaustion over me. When I woke up, I merely had to make the slightest noise for a whore to bring breakfast into the room and then ask if she might kneel and serve while I ate.
It was filthy. And it was glorious.
Every night, I gave them a single orgasm, which was apparently enough to keep them sustainably whore-ish throughout the weekend.
At the very end of the weekend, as Sunday afternoon approached Sunday evening, we all seemed to know it was almost over. I sat on the couch in the living room, with each collared whore in front of me, displaying her body for me.
“Alright, bitches,” I said. “How do you think you did this weekend?”
There was obvious hesitation. Good. I knew how I felt like they had done, but I wanted to see what they would say. On the one hand, they knew that they had done everything I had asked and more. On the other, they feared that being too cocky about it would result in a forfeited prize.
“Sir, I… I believe that we have been the best fucktoys that we could be,” Abby finally said. The other girls nodded at the diplomatic answer.
I nodded too, pretending to mull over the answer. “I might agree,” I said. “Actually, I might say that you lot are the filthiest whores that I’ve ever seen. I really enjoyed fucking you all.”
The girls smiled nervously.
“I can’t think of a single moment when you weren’t absolute whores—totally devoted sluts,” I added. “I think it’s my turn to please you.”
The girls giggled excitedly. I stood up, pointed to the couch, and the girls sat down. The excitement they were showing was like a child finding out they were getting a pony for Christmas.
“How long did I promise you all, if you really whored it up?” I asked. I knew, of course.
“Two minutes,” Abby said. It was the truth, which was good. I wanted to see if they would lie to me. I set a timer on my phone for three minutes. Then I went to work.
It was almost comical. They had been total sluts for a whole weekend. They had giggled, moaned, begged, and screamed for my pleasure. But now… they moaned for their own pleasure. The sounds filled the house. Every time a girl tapered off, I got her going again. The mass of erotic flesh, intermingled on the couch, pulsed with pleasure. I watched and reminisced on all the ways I had defiled them over the weekend.
At the end of three minutes, I stopped restarting their orgasms. The girls sat panting on the couch. They perfect skin was laden with sweat.
“Thank you, sir,” Emma was moaning softly. “Thank you so much.”
“I can be a good whore,” I heard Valerie mutter.
Niki stumbled off the couch. She hit on the ground and started to me, crawling on her hands and knees. She stopped at my feet, kissed them, and said, “Master… may I serve you? May I say thank you? Like how I know you like it?”
I was surprised. Of course, I could fuck Niki any time I want. Half the time I was restraining myself from calling her up every evening. But there was a desperation to please that I had only seen a few times. If I was unsure about what she meant, she opened wide, showcasing her mouth.
“Yes, please,” Abby said, dropping to the floor and crawling across to me. “Let me say thank you. We can make it dirty for you. Reallly dirty.”
This was new. Abby’s contract was effectively done. Niki might be angling for tomorrow’s fuck, but Abby didn’t have another one in the near future. And she had just gotten her reward.
Not to be left out, Emma and Valerie knelt and crawled, similarly moaning for the opportunity to thank me.
I found that my dick was indeed hard. I shrugged and said, “Get to work, then.”
I had fucked their mouths plenty throughout the weekend. I had found their limits, pushed them, breaked them, and came. This was something different. The total oral worship was unprecedented. One bitch would take my cock deep into her throat, bob there a few moments, and then relent. As soon as her lips disengaged, another mouth eagerly took it’s place, thrusting my cock into the next bitch’s throat. All the while, lips and tongues played at my balls and the skin around my dick. Looking down, I saw a feast for my eyes that I hadn’t ever quite seen before.
It was slow, almost tender. As they went, a rhythm developed and began to quicken. The thrusting into slutty throats intensified. The tradeoff to other mouths happened quickly. The sluts threw their faces forward without hesitation, but never forgetting the sort of sensuality that they were presenting.
Abby— in between her mouth’s service to my balls—began moaning, “I am my master’s little slut. I am a happy whore.” The other girls began chanting similarly, breaking only when their lips, mouths, and throats were needed for a more physical pleasure.
They were the hottest girls I had ever seen. They had given me the most depraved weekend I could have ever wished for. And they had taken their reward, but were still now on their knees in devotion to my pleasure. And they were enraptured by service to me.
I didn’t last long.
They must have gotten to know my body as well as I had gotten to know theirs. Just as I was about to cum, Abby’s mouth disengaged from my cock and no new mouth replaced it. I don’t even know whose hand was on my dick, but it pumped three times and I came. They gently moved my cock and their faces, each girl taking a generous helping of my cum and then moving it to another slut. I had been emptied pretty thoroughly throughout the weekend, but I apparently had enough to give each girl a little bit.
Once finished, four tongues swirled around the tip of my dick, licking the last little bit out. Then they sat back on their knees, looking up at me with smiles.
“Master,” Abby said. I didn’t remember them calling me that before, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it. “May I ask that you take our picture? So you can remember us as your happy little whores?”
My pants were around my ankles, but Valerie pulled my phone from the pocket and lifted it up to me. The girls posed, each with my cum proudly displayed on her face, and smiled into the camera. I took a picture. Then I took several more.
I left the cabin, a dull ache in my groin, and started the drive home. Lurid memories flashed through my head as I drove. I was at peace.
When I got home, I found that a text group had started. Niki had sent it first, connecting me to each of the girls I had spent the weekend fucking. The girls had then filled the text group with filthy nudes and near-nudes.
Periodically through the pictures, a text would come through from one of the girls: “Any time you want your bitches to entertain you, simply say the word. We are at your service.”
I was very tempted to call them all over on Monday night. Instead, I just had Niki over and I fucked her three times. I gave her one orgasm as a reward.
I got to thinking a lot about Uncle Pete. That made sense, of course. I missed him—doubly so for his amazing gift that he left me. But I was also thinking about those girls that were at his wedding. They were weeping, mourning their lost orgasms. I’m sure that Pete has his fun with them, but I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone really missed the man, as much as what he could do for them.
I wondered this a lot as I thought about the four sluts, having just received their reward—and then some—crawling across the room to blow me again, with even more dedication. Were they hedging for the next orgasm? Or was it something more? And was a fool to consider that it might be something more? What had Pete said? “They’re using you for pleasure. Return the favor.”
I attended to the Widow McReynolds and received my money for the week. She also made a very interesting offer. She was a property owner for about a dozen houses across the city. One of them—a very nice property—was between renters. She offered me the property, if I helped her fulfill a specific fantasy. She assured me that the fantasy was on her side. I would not have to do anything other than come with her, give her the orgasm, and remain quiet. I would leave with the keys. I agreed and we set the time—she pushed hard for Thursday night and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I agreed.
I was out, so I stopped by the cemetery where they buried Uncle Pete. I had left after the funeral, so I hadn’t actually visited his gravestone yet. It wasn’t hard to find and someone had left flowers on it just recently.
I stood awkwardly, not wanting to do the cheesy “talk to the dead” act from the movies, but wanting to be with my Uncle. I missed him. The whirlwind of sex had been a nice distraction, but I truly did miss my Uncle.
I noticed a blonde coming up the path. She was pretty and looked familiar. It wasn’t uncle she got closer and I saw her short skirt that I recognized her as the blonde with the great legs from the funeral. She was carrying flowers.
She got close, looked up, and saw me. She seemed surprised.
“Hi,” I said awkwardly.
“Hello,” she said pleasantly. Her eyes flickered to the gravestone. “Am I… do you want me to wait?”
“No, I’m…” I said, but tapered off. Damn, cemeteries were awkward.
She smiled at me, moved past me, and placed the flowers on the grave.
“Are these ones yours, too?” I asked, pointing at the other flowers.
“No, one of Pete’s other… uh… friends must have been here,” she said. “He had a lot of friends.”
“I know,” I nodded.
She smiled, perhaps a little secretively. It occurred to me that I couldn’t ask Pete some things, but maybe I could ask someone else. Carefully, of course.
“I know we don’t know each other,” I said hesitantly. “But, Pete was my Uncle. Can I… I don’t know… take you out for coffee?”
She cocked her head to the side, considering.
“I just want to know some things about my Uncle,” I said awkwardly. “I was hoping you could help.”
“Sure,” the blonde said with a faint shrug. “There’s a coffee shop by the parking lot. Does that work?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. We could remain in public, so she would be comfortable. I would ask my questions carefully, so as to not draw too much suspicion. It would be best if she didn’t know that I had inherited my Uncle’s ability. I was sure I could keep that hidden and still get the answers I wanted.
“So you can give orgasms like Pete could,” the blonde said, then sipped her coffee.
“Well, yeah,” I nodded. I wasn’t entirely sure when my resolve broke down, but it was clear that I wasn’t going to get answers without disclosing. “I… I don’t know… inherited it from him. A few weeks ago.”
The blondes eyes grew a little larger and she laughed. “So you’ve have quite the time for the last couple weeks, haven’t you?”
I grinned, a little awkwardly. “Yeah, I suppose so. It’s been… um… unprecedented.”
The blonde laughed, glancing at the table four down. A couple was focused on their date. Nobody else could hear us, which was just as well.
“Uncle Pete left me instructions, but not many,” I said. “I know that… well… I know that this is sort of awkward, but I was hoping I could ask from the other side.”
“I don’t know how it all worked, but sure,” the blonde shrugged. “I can tell you what I can.”
“Well… how often did he do it for you?” I said. “I don’t know how much is too much.”
“He gave his girls an orgasm about once a week,” the blonde said. “One or two of us would drop by through the course of the week, give him a good time, maybe drop off a case of beer, and every other or maybe every third time he would give us an orgasm on the way out.”
I blinked. “Once a week?”
“Yeah,” the blonde nodded. “Why? How often do you give them?”
“I’ve been doing every time,” I said. “It seemed rude… you know… to not return the favor.”
“Well that’s a little refreshing to hear from a guy,” the blonde said with a faint chuckle.
“Well shit,” I said. “I’ve even been giving multiples when they do really well.”
“What are you so afraid of?” the blonde said.
“Pete said they were addicting,” I said. “Have I been doing too much?”
“I think sex in general is addicting,” the blonde said. “Or have you not been getting off yourself multiple times a day for a couple weeks now.”
I paused, thinking a moment. “Yeah, but… Pete said it was different. He said it was the best, biggest orgasm ever.”
“It is,” the blonde nodded. “And there is nothing else like it. But… personally I think that Pete never really understood what it was himself. He held it out like a carrot, but I don’t think he ever really believed us when we said that it wasn’t about that anymore.”
I blinked, sipped my coffee, and said carefully, “What do you mean by that?”
“Well I think Pete thought that this was all quid pro quo. You know, we get a great orgasm and we play around with him for a while. Good girls get good treats and all that.”
“And… is wasn’t?” I said.
“At first, of course,” the blonde said. “Maybe it was addicting at first, when that ‘big o’ kicks you and you want anything to have it again. It’s a lot like getting caught in a really good book, actually. Like, you are only thinking about when you can get back to it. But eventually, the kick wears off and you’re left with only the love of the book.”
“And… you loved Pete’s… book?”
“I loved Pete,” the blonde said simply. “Yes, at first it was about orgasms. And he liked me for what I could do for him. But isn’t that all relationships? At first, you like someone for what they can do for you. Maybe how nice they look for you or how they sing for you or cook for you or whatever. And yes, Pete’s relationships were purely sexual at first. But it does grow into something more. Transactions become a relationship. And, of course, I looked forward to what Pete could do for me, but I wasn’t just going there for them. I was going there for Pete. To hold up my side of that relationship. Because I loved him.”
“Are you sure it’s not… you know… the addiction?” I said.
The blonde smiled. “You see me as a crack head willing to perform whatever fucked up shit to get my fix.” I started to deny it, but she cut me off. “No, it’s okay. I get it. I can’t explain it. But I think it might have to do with the associations. The orgasms are such a wave of dopamine… such a powerful force inside the brain… that you don’t just fire it like that without attaching that pleasure to the source. And eventually, it’s that source that’s the pleasure, not the act itself. The act is still there, but you crave the source.
“I wasn’t addicted to Pete’s gifts. I was addicted to Pete.” She smiled. “I loved him very much. At first, because of the pleasure. But I don’t miss that right now. I miss his smile. His laugh. That way he touched me. That look of satisfaction and happiness. Those dumb jokes. I just miss Pete.”
I found myself missing my Uncle a lot again. I willed myself through tears and tried to push to find truth. I wanted to believe it from this girl. I wanted to believe that Uncle Pete was wrong and just didn’t get it. That it wasn’t using someone while they used you. I wanted to believe that.
“Think about the girls that you’ve been fooling around with,” the blonde continued after a moment of silence. “I’m sure you didn’t pick them for their stunning personalities, but do you care about them? Their persons? Their well-beings? More than just the pleasure they give you?”
I thought about Niki. Yes, I fucked her hard and rough. But I also wanted to make sure she didn’t ruin her life because of me. I wanted to make sure that was doing well and still maintaining a social life and a work life. I refused to let her blow her savings fund, even though it would have meant more frilly stuff. And yes, I did just like her. I didn’t love her, but I did care something for her. Maybe it was because of the sex first, but was it only because of that? Or did I care a little more? I genuinely didn’t know.
“I hear you,” I said softly. “I… I understanding what you’re saying.”
The blonde looked down at her watch. “I’m on my lunch break,” she said apologetically. “I should be getting back.”
“Thank you for your time,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “It’s good to remember Pete.”
“Listen,” I said, stopping her as she started to walk. “Do you want… um… you know… do you want to come over to my side? I can give you what he gave you.”
The blonde smiled again, a little sadly this time. She shook her head. “No, dear. That’s sweet… I think… but you’re not my Pete. It’s not the same.”
She walked away and I sat there, sipping my coffee. Maybe she was telling the truth. She turned down the orgasms. Maybe she was doing more than just using Pete. Maybe it was my Uncle who had their relationship wrong.
I was in the mood for a redhead on Wednesday night. I texted Abby, “What are you doing tonight?”
I got a response nearly immediately, “Hopefully swallowing. ;)” A picture quickly followed, taken from a bathroom. Her blouse had been unbuttoned, her bra pushed aside, and—if I wasn’t mistaken—she had rubbed some cold water on her bare nipples to make them firmer. Abby’s mouth was open and her tongue was out. An eager-to-please desperation was in her eyes.
I added the picture to a growing album on my phone and texted, “6PM.”
Abby was perfectly on time, knocking on my door at 6PM. I let her in, took her coat, and found the sexy red negligee she had under it. Combined with the spiked heels, well-done makeup, and matching red lace choker, I could tell that she had put a lot of thought and effort into looking sexy for me.
I wrapped my hands around her tight ass, squeezing appreciatively. I gave it a good smack, which filled my apartment with a satisfying noise. Abby giggled, then backed the ass up against me. She quickly found the bulge in my jeans that she was looking for and began to grind her ass against it. I reached around, filling my hands with her fantastic tits as she rocked against me.
“Yes, sir,” Abby purred. “Use this tight little body for your toy. It belongs to you.”
I was tempted to let Abby rock herself against my dick and get off right there and then. But I had other plans. I gave a light push and stepped away from her.
“Over here,” I commanded, undoing my buckled as we walked further into the apartment.
I fucked her pussy a little bit, because it looked like fun, but what I really wanted was to go to town on her face. Abby had this way of abandoning all physical needs—like breathing and not gagging—when she went down. I let her set the pace at first, then eventually grabbed a fistful of her hair and took up the rhythm myself. I pulled out just in time to have her jerk me off onto her face.
“Thank you, master,” Abby groaned from her knees. She took a string of cum on her finger and delivered it to her face. I hit her with the orgasm while her tongue was licking it off her finger. She moaned, squealed, and writhed for a moment. When she was done, I was getting a beer from the fridge.
“You can go now,” I said simply. “Thanks for the fun.”
“Any time you want,” Abby said, catching the hint that I was done with her. She hurried to the door, got her coat, and stepped out before even putting it on. It occurred to me that she had been far from wiping off the cum from her face. I shrugged and decided it didn’t matter. If the whole floor hadn’t caught on to the fact that I was fucking a string of hot sluts, they had to be both deaf and blind.
I sat on the couch, put on a movie, and sipped at my beer. Abby was hot and fun, but I didn’t really want her to hang around afterwards. In fact, I kinda wanted Niki. We talked a little, she played with me some afterwards, and I just liked having her in the apartment.
I looked down at my phone, saw that Valerie had sent a fresh batch of nudes, and added them to the album. While there, I checked in on Niki’s daily videos. She had done one every single day. I hadn’t checked for a while, but I saw that she had even done them on the weekend, when I was fucking her and her friends. I watched a few of them.
“Master fucked me and my fellow sluts all day today…”
“…it was fun hanging with my friends and pleasing you at the same time…”
“…I hope that you’re enjoying this as much as I am…”
I sat back on the couch, realizing I was no longer watching my movie. I paused it, opened another beer, and texted Niki, “Are you free?”
The text came back quick: “I can be over in two minutes. Five if you want me sexier.”
“Take your time,” I responded. I thought a moment, decided I didn’t want to hide anything, and sent another text: “Abby just got me off, but I want you here. Maybe another round, maybe just some fooling around.”
After five minutes, there was a knock on the door. Niki came in, looking stunning as always. I sat on the couch. She laid on it next to me. I watched the movie, while she licked and sucked my cock. It started as just playful teasing. Eventually, I got harder and she started a rhythm. My hand wandered over her and rested on her ass, squeezing periodically.
The movie was really good, actually. I saw the plot twist coming, even with two beers and a slut’s mouth on my dick, but that didn’t make it less fun. About three quarters of the way through, Niki picked up a decent rhythm, got me off in her mouth, and swallowed. As my cock softened again, she went back to a teasing playfulness, sucking the last bit out, sucking softly on my balls, and roaming with a wet tongue.
I watched some TV afterwards. I had her flip over so I could see her body, even if she couldn’t blow me anymore. I fondled her tits and we talked. I found out she had a brother who was apparently a big wig on Wall Street. She used to be a horse girl. I told her about the parades I always went to as a kid with my family. We found out that we were probably at the same concert ten years ago. It was light and fun, doubly so because of my hands exploring her body.
It got late. Niki insisted she could stay longer if I wanted, but I knew she had to get up for work the next day.
“I bet I could convince you to let me stay,” Niki said, a touch of mischief in her eyes, “if I beg on my knees.”
“I can see it now,” I teased. “You beg on your knees, I fill your mouth, and as soon as your mouth isn’t begging I realize I should be letting you go. I pull out, you beg more, and the whole cycle repeats.”
“Or, I could convince you with a full mouth,” Niki said, an exploring hand working its way down to my crotch. “What’s the polite way of saying it? ‘The steady application of suction’?” She giggled when she found that my cock was indeed hard.
“And when have I ever given you the impression I prefer the polite way?” I said, still smiling.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, stroking gently and teasingly. “Should I have said ‘sucking like a good little fucktoy’?” She grinned again.
“Yes, perhaps you should have,” I said. I didn’t stop her gentle, teasing stroking. “If you keep me distracted, I might just forget to get you off.”
Niki shrugged. “Not the end of the world,” she said. Her hand was picking up pace. My mind flashed rapidly. We were joking back and forth, of course, but did she really mean that? I thought again of the blonde in the coffee shop. Did Niki really not just care about the orgasms? Or was this just a joke.
Before I could think further, Niki bent over and dropped her tongue out of her mouth. It danced a little circle around the tip of my dick as she stroked. All other thoughts disappeared.
“How am I doing on convincing you to let me stay a little longer?” Niki smiled at me, still bent over.
“If you’re not careful, I’m going to stop your teasing, go to town on that pretty little mouth, and once I’m done I’ll send you away.” I was still jovial, but becoming more serious.
“Well now you’re just going to have to prove that to me,” Niki said with a dangerous, daring, inviting smile. Her tongue reappeared and swirled around the head of my cock. Her eyes remained locked on mine, the dare persisting.
I had gotten off twice already that night. I had spent the whole past weekend fucking. You might have thought I’d be tired. But I found energy.
I pushed her back on the couch, eliciting a little squeal of surprise from Niki. I stood, walked to the side of the couch, and pulled her so her neck was on the arm of the couch and her head dangled.
“You’re going to regret challenging me,” I warned her.
“I promise you, I won’t,” she said up at me. She smiled, then opened her mouth and leaned her head back in invitation.
I gripped her tits with my hands, stuffed my dick into her mouth, and facefucked her. After a minute, I began slapping her tits, really getting into it. Despite being mostly empty of cum, I didn’t last long. I pulled out of her mouth, jerking myself off onto her tits. She sucked on my balls as I finished myself onto her chest. There wasn’t very much of it. Then, I lowered my cock back to her mouth so she could suck on it a little bit more as it softened. I pinched her nipple, surprising her and eliciting another cute little squeal. I laughed quietly to myself.
I pulled out of her mouth, put on some boxers, and grabbed a few tissues for Niki. She wiped off her chest, then smiled up at me. If she was faking all of this for orgasms, she was a damn good actress. I realized that I did really like her—and for more than just her tits, fantastic as they may be. She was fun to be with.
“You should be getting to bed,” I said, kissing her forehead.
“I know,” she said. “But what if…”
I gave her an orgasm. She squealed, giggled, and writhed. When it was done, I was still there, smiling down at her.
“Were you saying something?” I asked, innocently.
She pointed an accusing finger at me. “If I argue more, do you do that again?”
“No,” I said. “Go on. Get.” Niki smiled, kissed me, and gathered some clothes together. She went to bed.
Despite the exhaustion on my body, I spent a long time staring at the ceiling.
On Thursday, I met the widow McReynolds at an old hotel on the outside of town. She had a suitcase and was dressed in a white sundress.
“Thank you for meeting me,” the widow said softly. She sounded sad, but I didn’t quite know why. She extended an envelope. “This is the house, the deed, the keys, and some additional paperwork. I’ve signed where necessary and marked where you need to. Any lawyer can take it from there.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the envelope.
“You can go straight there if you want,” she said. “It’s technically mine until you file the paperwork, but as far as I’m concerned it’s yours.”
“Thank you,” I said again.
“Alright,” the widow said. “I’m going to ask you to… um… well to follow and try to be as quiet as possible. When I say ‘now’, do your thing. And then please, quietly leave.” She paused. “And I would appreciate if you don’t mention any of this to anyone.”
“Alright,” I said with a nod.
I followed her into the hotel. We went up the elevator. Midway through, she started mumbling. I listened, but couldn’t make out the words. We went down the hallway, her talking louder. She was carrying on half of a conversation. She even laughed, as if I was responding. She went to a specific room, unlocked it, and stepped in.
As soon as we were in the hotel room, she grew very serious.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to the bed. She took the suitcase into the bathroom. I stood in the corner of the room, quietly waiting. After a moment, she emerged in an old-fashioned lingerie set. She moved the pillows into a vertical arrangement and then placed a small picture frame on the top of it. From across the room, I could see it was a picture of a young man from a long time ago.
I suddenly realized where I was and what I was doing. Even as the widow climbed on top of the pillows, kissed the picture, and spoke sweet words to it, I became aware that I was very far out of my element. If I had to guess, we were in the hotel of her wedding night—probably the very room. She had urged for Thursday because this was her anniversary. And she didn’t want kinky shit, she wanted to “relive her wedding night”. I turned away, allowing her privacy. I did my best to ignore her sounds and how she changed positions. Eventually, she said “Now” very clearly and I turned my attention to her for just a moment. I triggered her.
As she writhed in the bed, I opened the door quietly and stepped out. I listened for just a moment longer, to make sure the effect didn’t go away when I left. She continued to moan. After a little while, she grew quiet. Now I was concerned that I had killed her or something. I listened a moment longer.
I heard a soft sobbing. I left quietly.
I decided to be glad that I could give something back to the widow. In return, she had given me a house—something that my generation was very far from attaining on their own in absence of magical orgasm powers.
The house itself was beautiful. It was on a larger set of land, had four bedrooms, a finished basement, and a balcony from the master bedroom. I wandered through my new house. It was newly cleaned and painted. I realized that I would have to buy some furniture to fill it. I spent Friday morning making a few new friends. While the previous night had made me hesitant to make acquaintance with “wealthy widows”, they were still the best source for money with no attachments. A few house-calls, free samples, and happy widows later, I had some spending money in my pocket.
I spent the afternoon in furniture stores, picking a new décor, setting up payment programs (I had enough down and had no problem acquiring more as I went) and setting delivery dates. I could move in as early as the following Tuesday with a bed, couch, television, and various other décor. I quickly decided that I didn’t have to impress any girls, so I could do whatever I wanted with my own style. The TV was massive, matched by the speaker system. There was an equivalent system in the finished basement and master bedroom. In the basement, I also had three screens that I set to cycle through the various pornographic material that my bitches sent me—although I did turn these off as the delivery guys moved furniture into place.
After the movers finished, I took a few extra widow visits (they requested and I accepted) to refill my personal spending. Then I went out to the stores.
I visited high-end stores, boldly venturing into their lingerie sections. A month prior, I would have cowered at the thought. I texted the slut group chat, asking for measurements. All girls quickly responded. I bought a few outfits that I liked for all four of them, but I was looking for something special. On the fifth store, I found it. It was graceful, sexy, and sheer. It hugged, displayed, and elevated. It was expensive, but I bought it.
I texted Niki on Wednesday. It had been a full week since I had fucked her—I had been so busy with the house on the weekend. I asked her if she was free that evening. She responded quickly and said that she was. I had expected it, but was still glad for the response.
I left a box in front of her door. When Niki got home, she saw it, took it inside, and opened it. She found the lingerie inside, along with a small folded note with a heart on it. When she unfolded it, she found a crudely drawn diagram of a blowjob. She laughed, which is what I had hoped for.
She donned the lingerie, covered herself with a jacket, and walked down to my apartment. She knocked and I opened it.
This time, I was surprising her. I had a jacket and tie on. Behind me, Niki could see the candles and smell the dinner. I had catered and spent a lot of time on YouTube getting the tie right, but it was good and I knew it.
“What…” she stammered.
“Come on inside,” I said. I took her coat, leering down at her perfectly presented body. I had been right about the lingerie. She looked like a goddess. I could see everything, lifted, displayed, and glorified. She was a fucktoy, but a beautiful one. A gorgeous slut. A divine whore.
I backed the chair out for her. She sat, thanked me quietly, and I took a seat across from me. We ate, making idle chatter. As we neared the end, she finally asked, “Is this a fantasy of yours?”
“Sort of,” I said with a shrug. “I was more hoping it was one of yours.”
“It’s… it’s perfect. You’re a perfect gentleman. I feel a little… underdressed,” she said with a smile.
“Well… okay… that part is my fantasy,” I said with a grin. She smiled up at me.
“Why are you trying to fulfill my fantasies?” Niki asked. “Isn’t that my job?”
I set my fork down, took a sip of my wine, and said, “Do you want it to be?”
Niki blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Do you want to… you know… fulfill my fantasies?”
Niki smiled a little, looked down at the table, and said, “If this is a lead-up to a big ask, you could just tell me to do it. You don’t need to woo me into a crazy sort of fuck.” She giggled a little. “Although I wonder what it is if you feel that you need to.”
“No, it’s not…” I took a pause, thinking of how to word it. “I want to know if you want to do this… more. I just got a house. It’s big. I filled it with my shit. But… it’s empty.”
Niki’s humor was gone. She was looking at me seriously. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“In a way, yeah,” I nodded. “I like when you’re here. And I would like that more.”
“I would love that,” Niki said. “But… I thought you were concerned that I would give up my life.”
“You can still go to work,” I said. “Still have friends. Have your family. But at home, we fuck. A lot. Every night, I give you an orgasm. If you want them more often, we can talk about that. But I want you… with me.”
“It’s not… it’s not just the orgasms, you know,” Niki said.
“I’m starting to figure that out,” I said. “And it’s not just that I love fucking your throat and slapping your tits. I can do that with other sluts. And I probably still will. But I want you there all the time.” I smiled, then added, “I can give you orgasms and you can fuck me in filthy, fun ways. There can be more than that also, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have that in the middle of it all.”
“Okay,” Niki said with a smile. “I want to do it. I want to be your live-in fucktoy.” She stood from the table, letting one hand drop onto the tablecloth. “What do I have to do to earn it?”
I frowned. “I didn’t mean…”
“Because,” she cut me off, “sure there’s something. Surely you want me to prove that I can do it right.” She walked slowly around the table, displaying herself in the candlelight.
“I just…” I said, still not getting it.
She cut me off again. “If I am to be a filthy whore for you all the time, certainly there’s something that you want me to do to prove it. Tell me, my Master. What forbidden fantasies can I fulfill for you to show you my devotion?” She was standing next to me. She took my wine glass, sipped it, and then placed it into my hand. “What can I do to make your night unforgettable?”
I blinked, suddenly clicking that she wasn’t actually proposing “earning it”, but rather asking how I wanted to celebrate. I sipped the wine, shrugged, and said, “Well, if you’ve gotta prove it, then we might as well…”
I laid on my back on the bed as she fucked me. First it was with her mouth, which I always loved. Then, with her tits—the expensive lingerie kept them together while she bounced my cock between them. Then, she climbed on top of me and started riding me. I smacked her tits while she rode. After every strike, she cried out, “Yes Master! I’m yours!”
After a few minutes, I flipped her over, climbing on top and beginning to set my own pace. As someone used to letting his whores do the work, I found it was hard, but the changing angle was refreshing. After a minute of thrusting, I grabbed her wrists and flung them back against the mattress. I held them there, looking down at her as I fucked her pussy.
“You are mine,” I grunted.
“Yes,” she nodded. I focused and commanded.
Niki came, hard. I felt her hips buckle against my dick, even as it continued to thrust into her. She squealed and I felt her involuntarily pulling against my grip.
“My whore,” I said.
“Yeeeeesss yourrr whorrrre,” Niki squealed, her body still convulsing.
“Slut,” I prompted. Niki’s orgasm finished and she was left panting. I started her again, then repeated, “Slut.”
“Yeessss yourrr sssslut,” Niki squealed.
“Yesss yess yesss your fucktoy. All yourrrrs to fuuuuck!”
We continued. I fucked her pussy, restarting her orgasm whenever it waned, and prompted her. She repeated each one as the waves of pleasure poured over her brain. My cock continued thrusting into her wet pussy.
Eventually, I came too. I restarted her one more time as I started and we came together. Her orgasm lasted longer.
I collapsed onto her tits, my cock resting on her thigh. The air was thick with sex and sweat. We panted, neither of us having words or the air by which to speak them. Eventually, I lifted my head just enough to suck on her left tit. She giggled.
“Well that’s not fair,” Niki said softly. “I came how many times and you just got off once?”
I smiled, looking up at her with my mouth still attached to her tit.
“I guess I’ll just have to catch you up to me,” she said with feigned defeat.
I released her nipple with a popping noise. “It really is the only fair thing to do, isn’t it?”
“I couldn’t properly call myself your fucktoy if I got off more than you,” Niki said logically.
“No, that wouldn’t make sense at all,” I said, flopping onto the bed next to her.
“And if I’m going to be your live-in whore, then I have to be a good one,” Niki said, climbing on top of me and starting to kiss her way down my sweaty chest.
“Oh, naturally,” I nodded.
“It really is a question of morality,” Niki said. “How could I live with myself if I didn’t prove myself to be a good little fuck?”
“I don’t see how you could,” I said with a shrug.
Niki planted a soft kiss on my cock, then looked up at me with a pout. “Sir, would you be so good as to let me repair my conscious?”
“If you must,” I said with an almost sad smile.
“Thank you, sir, for your generosity,” Niki said humbly. For just a moment, the façade and the game faded and Niki gave me a wicked smile. I suppressed one of my own. Then, my dick disappeared into her mouth and all other thoughts went with it.
We fucked our way through a bottle of wine. That night, we collapsed into the same bed. We slept the deep sleep of satisfied lovers.
Valerie, Abby, and Emma threw us a sort of housewarming. Of course, this involved all four girls fucking me a lot, which I naturally had no problem with. We drank, banged, and drank more throughout a long Saturday. Periodically throughout, I handed out “party favor orgasms” to the girls.
At the end of the night, three of the girls left and Niki and I were alone. We continued fucking. We took breaks for food. We took breaks for drinks. We took breaks to sleep. We took breaks when Niki had to go to work. We took breaks when we went out to dinner or to visit family or friends. We took breaks when I fucked another hot slut. We took breaks when we were tired and wanted to just watch TV.
We took breaks, but I guess we really have been fucking ever since.
Some times I think of Uncle Pete. I still miss him, of course. I miss his laugh and his way of coming to my rescue. But another part of me feels a little bad for him too. I think of the blonde who cared for him more than he believed—and continued caring after he was gone.
I don’t know much about the world or life or philosophy and I don’t think I really need to, but I do know something about orgasms now. Whether it’s when I command a girl with my mind or when I explode deep into a slut’s mouth, it’s like a tiny window into heaven—30 seconds in paradise. And then, life goes on. It’s up to us to find paradise in the rest of it.