The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

March 17th

“Don’t raise your hand,” Edward said.

Rose didn’t try.

“What does it feel like?” Edward said, after a minute. “Like is your arm fighting you? Do the muscles stop at the shoulder?”

“No… I….” it was hard to get these concepts across. Edward had taken the government’s advice and told her not to panic. “I didn’t try. I didn’t try to raise my hand. You said not to.”

“Oh,” Edward sat back. Her husband. He was a large man, and tended to wear tent-like polo shirts. He also tended to be as slobby as he could, with just a pair of modern black-rimmed glasses to save the affect. And a beard for a jawline. Rose was fairly big herself. They’d been married for nearly a year, and now she had woken up subject to his every command.

“Huhhhhhhhh,” he said. “So you can’t raise your hand if I say no.”

“I didn’t try,” Rose explained. It was going to be very hard to get this across to Edward, she could tell. It was previously not at all a problem to be mildly smarter than her husband, who was gentle and sweet and easygoing. “You told me not to, and I didn’t try.”

Realization finally dawned. He’d been thinking of all this—this whatever it was—as making her a marionette. Player 2 in her own body. But Rose had grasped all of it the moment she had woken up, infected, and looked over at her husband, and known with every ounce of herself that she would do what he wanted, and, most importantly, without question.

“So its not like I’m steering. You’ll DO it,” Edward said. He was on his fifth beer. “So if I say stick your finger up your nose…”

Her hand was already extended. Rose managed to look him in the eyes as she got set to dig in. That itself was a challenge, but she could just tell herself it wasn’t a rebellion. She was looking at her husband, who she adored. And therefore, she would certainly pick her nose. It was no trouble for her.

She’d been a little reluctant to think the word, but there was no way around it. He’d go talk to other men, and see other women. She’d woken up and thought the word, everyone else would too. “You’re my MASTER,” she had said, overwhelmed by the truth of it, and emphasized it by sinking onto her knees.

“No, no, none of that,” Edward had said. “Get up. Get up! Sit down. Just sit down normally. Geez. We were going to see a movie this weekend and like, read some books. Now there’s all this shit. I’ve been watching the news.” She had been avoiding the news, and now movies were right out. Apparently male voices of any kind would make her knees bend. “Listen, you’re my wife, not my slave or anything. I’m not your master. You don’t have to do all this stuff, right? You just have to do whatever I say.”

“Whatever you say, right,” Rose had said.

Now she was grateful he hadn’t made her pick her nose. She took a deep breath. It was something to hold onto. ACT NORMALLY. Was it a command or who she was? No real reason to think on that now, Edward had commanded it. “Okay. I think I’m okay.”

Edward was relieved. “I’ll come up with some groundrules and stuff. WE’LL come up with, I mean. You and me both. How long until they figure out how to fix this, you think? Like a month or two? This has to be some weird virus thing that goes away, right? Like in a little bit? Maybe I’ll just be your boss or something.”

She laughed at that, and felt that same uncertainty—was she laughing because he wanted her to, or because it was funny? It WAS funny. “You’ll be my coworker I cover for who I secretly resent,” she said, and was relieved when it came out right. So she could still snark, too. So long as it was funny, at least. Edward nodded eagerly.

“I’ll make dinner,” he said. “And you’ll clean up, okay?”

Should she tell him that was an order? No. He was happy again. Rose nodded her head.

March 18th

Rose woke up.

It was a very different kind of wakeup. Yesterday she had woken up slow and lazy. After Edward. She had wrapped herself in blankets until the thought—oh right, the virus—had kicked her awake.

Today she woke up owned. He’d cautioned her about it—she was not a slave, she was his wife, they were equal partners. It was very sweet and Rose earnestly wanted it to be true. It just wasn’t.

He was still sleeping next to her. Rose considered her vocabulary for her husband. Husband would be a good everyday word, she decided. It was true and had just enough vestige of possessiveness to make it somehow… good. Master, she’d avoid. It bothered him. Owner seemed boring, although not wrong. She tabled it.

Daddy. Now there was a thought. They’d joked about the word not long ago, how weird it was to use. “Always good to liven up a relationship with some super strange incest stuff,” she’d said, and he’d laughed. They were two adults who weren’t very kinky. And then she’d said “cum in me Daddy” during sex, when she was on top, and he’d nutted in seconds. They’d never spoken of it again.

“Cum in me, Daddy,” Rose whispered. Too low to wake him up. There was no way she could go back asleep. How could anyone wake up, think “oh right I’m a slave,” and blissfully go back to sleep? Rose felt—a lot of things. She could make him breakfast, she could clean the house. What would make him happy? Just to wake up normally?

He’d told her, specifically, to be normal. Rose shoved down the other thoughts. Normal was not straddling him and cooing about Daddy. She was going to be his normal wife. Just like he wanted.

Rose made plans in the bathroom. She’d have to check in with her friends, make sure everyone was alright. See what work was—actually, have Edward call her office. She could hardly work like this. It didn’t bother her, losing her career. That was the nicest part of all this, all anxiety and concern slid off a stone tablet in her mind inscribed by Edward that read “Everything Is Fine.” So her job was gone. Oh well. She was her husband’s toy. Okay.

But that still left the question of what to do. Edward would probably want to have a long conversation because that was how he was dealing with this. She could read some books, take over chores. It was fine when Edward wanted to cook to prove a point but she’d have to do something. Maybe plan a girl’s night. Girl’s night in. He’d like that. Read some books. She could still write. And he was right that this would no doubt be cured sooner than later. Of course he was right. This would be a weird vacation, that was all.

She emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and ready for the day. Edward had just woken up. He sat on the foot of the bed, in his boxer shorts.

“Rose, what are you wearing?” he rumbled.

Rose stopped dead. She pivoted immediately and walked over to the bathroom mirror. She was… what?

“What’s wrong?” she said. Anxiety cut through the pleasant hum. Edward being displeased hurt.

“It’s 6 a.m. and you’re dressed for date night,” he said.

She was. Rose had put on full makeup, including eyeliner and a ruby-red lipstick that usually came out two, three times a year. Her special blowjob lipstick. She wore a pair of skintight jeans, dark wash, that had deep back pockets that hugged her butt. And a ruffled peach top that cupped her best asset, her boobs. She looked like she was getting ready for his birthday blowie.

“Huh,” she said, examining herself. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“This is a, what, I want to look like I want you to—” Edward winced. “I can’t get that sentence right. But I really do prefer you in sweatpants and sweaters. I mean that.”

“Do you want me to change?” Rose said. This felt like very delicate territory. He had an erection. She tried not to stare at it, but her eyes kept dipping. He WANTED her. That meant she wanted him. A lot.

She looked him in the eyes and ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

Edward stood up. “I’m going to go make some coffee,” he said.

That sounded like a no.

“Rose, can you get me that? If you want. Choose freely,” Edward said. He was cooking, and he wasn’t doing a great job of it. Rose had no idea what he meant. It was still very new to her, as well. Could she just ignore the order, if he hastily put some modifier on it? Or if it was totally unclear what the heck he meant? No… she was getting used to the pressure in her head. Not quite panic, but a cousin to it. A feeling like realizing the test was an hour ago.

“Do you mean… salt?” she said. Her husband was attempting to make shrimp scampi. The kitchen was chaotic. An entire uncooked shrimp had found its way into the living room floor, where it sat in a puddle of water, defrosting. Rose was pushing herself, not picking it up. The smoke alarm had gone off, Rose wasn’t sure what was causing that.

“Salt. Yes. Do we have salt?”

“We have ample salt supplies, husband,” Rose said. She gave them over, solemnly. Edward had his sleeves rolled up and his forearms were sweaty. Or at least damp.

She’d been mildly aroused for him all day, and wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Edward had taken them off the grid “to let the world calm down,” which meant they’d been reading books all day, and gone for a brief walk through the empty streets. HE’D read books. She’d done crosswords and then watched him read. Too dangerous to read. The few women outside were also escorted by men.

It seemed possible being generally horny was a side effect. Or maybe it was just her body being ready for what Edward wanted. Men tended to want to stick it in once the idea occurred to them. Or maybe part of doing whatever Edward said was being literally attracted to him. Or a combination. At any rate, it would’ve been nice to get her lipstick rubbed off.

She felt bad for Edward—he was having a hard time with this. No “don’t worry” command for him.

They sat down to dinner, and it was immediately obvious that a number of things had gone wrong. Rose looked underneath the first shrimp. It was grey.

“This is bad,” Edward said, after half a bite. “Painfully bad.”

“Yes,” Rose agreed.

Her husband deliberately put his fork down. “Would you have said anything?”

“I don’t know,” Rose said, honestly. It would’ve been a strain. “Let me microwave it so it won’t kill us, at least.”

“What would happen if I told you it tasted great?” Edward said, as the microwave hummed.

“Search me.”

Edward looked at the returned plates. They were now technically edible. Globs of bright yellow had congealed. “Can we try it? Would that be okay?”

He still didn’t get it. “Of course,” Rose said.

“Rose, this is delicious.”

Rose looked. It was obvious he was right. Angel hair bathed in a garlic and butter sauce dotted with bursting-pink shrimp, just cooked through. She dug in. It was awhile before she realized that Edward was just watching her eat.

“Huh,” he said. “Even the oil pools? Good?”

“Good ash PHUCK!” Rose told him, her mouth full.

Her husband did the dishes. Rose had cleaned her plate easily but kept herself from licking it—it felt like rubbing in some weird point. And she felt a growing consciousness about her figure. Her date-night-level outfit tugged at her hips. She rubbed her hands on her jeans.

“There’s a raw shrimp on the floor? You just left it there?” Edward said, disgusted. He had just finished cleaning up. His hands were still wet. His eyes glared at it.

He might as well have snapped a whip. Rose snapped up from the couch, her face flushed. All the mildly pleasant feelings evaporated. It was just shame and regret and recriminations, a hot crimson burn across her cheeks. She picked it up with her bare hands and dumped it into the trash, then about-faced to grab the 409.

“No, wait, nevermind,” Edward said. But not until she had sprayed and rubbed down the spot. And she’d definitely noticed that he’d been standing behind her, with a good view of her ass. “Okay, we’ll talk more about this tomorrow. Okay?”

“Sure,” Rose said. Uncertainty still coursed through her. “Is it okay now?”

“I don’t know if anything will be okay,” Edward said. When her face pursed up, he backtracked fast. “Except with you! You did good. Good girl.”

The warm flash of lazy pleasure splashed in as fast as the shame left.

Much later, in bed, still awake, her pussy tingling, Rose wondered if he even remembered the “good girl” line.

March 19th

“Alright, apparently this will help in case someone else tries to horn in my action,” Edward said. The pamphlets had been hastily printed on newsprint, Rose assumed on government-requisitioned pages. They were all in black and white, large print, with different non-English languages in the back. As rush government jobs went, in a societal crisis, Rose was impressed.

“I’m supposed to make firm, unyielding eye contact. No blinking,” Edward read.

“It really says no blinking?” Rose said.

“No blinking. And it says you aren’t supposed to read this. So don’t.” She never would.

“How am I supposed to read and make eye contact with you at the same time?” Edward said, frowning.

“Memory?” Rose suggested. Snarkiness was getting easier. It helped a lot that Edward kept insisting on it. “Edward wants it” was a big red override button.

Her husband rolled his eyes. She took the opportunity. “No, towards ME,” she insisted. Rose crossed her arms under her boobs. She’d brought out leggings and a reasonably loose shirt, with a quietly low-cut top. It felt like a good compromise, so long as she made an effort to show off some body. Leggings were a godsend.

“Okay. Here we go. Eye contact.” She stared right at her husband’s eyes. Any urge to make jokes died. This was her owner. Her master. She waited for what he would say.

“You only obey me,” he told her.

It was hammered into her. Rose flinched. Her entire body tingled at it. A lot of the tingles went down between her legs.

“I don’t know if you’re supposed to repeat after me or what,” Edward said, checking the manual.

“I obey you,” Rose said. It wasn’t necessary. But it felt really good to say.

“If any man gives you an order, you check with me first,” Edward said. He clearly had no qualms about that one. Rose squeezed her legs together.

“And then… a bunch more ‘you only obey me’. I think I’m supposed to read them in sequence. You only obey me, you only obey me, you only obey… Rose are you alright?”

They hit her hard and fast, and she had no time to recover. Her thighs were red hot, and her entire body had broken out in sweat. Rose leaned back, breathing hard. “Wow,” she said, after a moment.

“What’s up?” Edward said.

“Each single letter of every word feels like you’re proposing to me,” she deliberated, and decided to give the full story. “Also its making me wildly horny. Just. Wildly. Horny.”

“Oh,” Edward said. He put the pamphlet down. Rose wondered what she looked like. She’d never been particularly demonstrative, certainly not some horned-up schoolgirl mewing for dick. If she initiated she’d usually give him a coy smile and a wink. Now her legs were pushing towards him. “I… saw some of that online. I guess its all very tied in with your, you know, your sexual systems. Like really tied in.”

“I agree,” Rose said. She could feel herself actually dribbling. That was different.

“We could take a break,” Edward offered.

Was he really not going to initiate? No, he was not. Rose guessed that there was something giving-in that he distrusted, that it would be reveling in the changes, to give her the serious fucking she definitely needed and frankly deserved. It was admirable. He didn’t want to make it real, to feel her scream helplessly as he fucked her into the bed. That’s what masters did with their slaves.

There was some ambiguity in “take a break,” and Rose realized she could take advantage of it. It was an enormous relief. “Oh, great idea,” she said, scooting back. Her foot started to push into his crotch. Despite her bravado it was a relief to find his erection already poking back. So, he did want it. Thank god. “I really need to get dicked down. My body is getting desperate.”

He was still slow to respond, so Rose was the one to get up and sit in his lap, to grind against his dick. He didn’t relax until they started to kiss. Kissing was mutual, it was normal, it was reciprocal. She could picture him wondering what it would be like to order up a blowjob, to have her bend over, to go porn star. Guilty erections in the night, probably. Fine, she just had to make this very consensual, very straightforward sex. It hardly mattered what it was, she was gonna cum if he sneezed near her.

Easy enough to order him around. “Take your pants off,” she told him, and happily shucked her own. It was her first time seeing his dick after getting involuntarily mastered, and it nearly made her lose her composure. Yeah, her brain had definitely been hooked up to her clit. His erect penis didn’t normally make her half-gasp, forget her next sentence. She had been mildly fond of it. Now it was—important. Very important to her.

Edward laid down on the bed, per instructions, and she climbed on top. It was encouraging when he started to hump back.

It was probably a bad idea, but Rose started to talk.

“Fuck me, fuck me,” she said. “Oh, god.” she was so close.

“Bust in me daddy!”

He did, with a strange, stricken look. It surprised her, she had no idea he was that close. They’d barely started. But the first red hot jet in her took her breath away. The orgasm was immediate, and crushing. Her brain wasn’t prepared for it. It was juiced. It was hard to breathe…

Rose passed out.

She woke up an hour later, and Edward was fully dressed already, and didn’t make eye contact with her for the remainder of the night.

March 23rd

It had been a difficult week, above and beyond being mildly controlled.

Edward had been moody and distant ever since they had finally fucked. He’d been spending a lot of time on the internet, with his headphones, brooding over the state of the world. Rose hadn’t really been able to care about the massive changes underway in society—he’d told her to “not worry about it” and that had been that. There were lots of red banner headlines, but as far as she could tell, no wars or anything. Lots of poaching stories, to be fair.

“Poaching?” Rose had said, when Edward had told her about it.

“Yeah, even CNN is using the term,” he’d said. “Not very good at all. I guess its better then rustling.”

“Oh no, I’m cattle,” Rose had said. “I’m a sheep.”

He’d briefly smiled at that one. It was a real challenge to raise his spirits. Edward had finished off the pamphlet in a hurry, then stopped talking about them altogether. The one time she’d timidly alluded to their sex life he’d sighed and said “I don’t want to talk about it,” which was law.

In the interim Rose was dressing as conservatively as she could. Faded cords and old frumpy sweaters. She hadn’t stopped being attracted to her husband—Rose had a feeling she’d be horny for hubby until she died—but it was manageable.

Mostly she was insanely, incredibly bored.

“I have an idea,” she’d said, after brooding herself on the problem all day. It felt like a lot of her brainpower was devoted to game-planning these conversations, steering them away from troubling topics. “Why don’t you order me to be happy?”

It took a lot out of her to make the suggestion. Rose had needed to convince herself it was in Edward’s best interest. But it was, right? They were in a slump, metaphorically in a bunker, the phone lines unplugged and the TV off.

“Rose, come on,” he said, which was already encouraging. He hadn’t shaved in days, and didn’t seem to be sleeping well. It bothered her tremendously. “We talked about this. No orders. I’m not going to order you around.”

Ah-ha, he’d fallen into her trap. “Edward,” she smiled at him, winsome. She’d dared a little makeup today. “Come on. You’ve been giving me little orders for days now.”

“No!” he protested.

“Do you think I can lie to you? I can’t,” Rose said. She hadn’t written them down, but she didn’t need to. Orders were cleanly written on her mind in reverse order, the deeper ones—she was owned, she was his—carved in thick letters. “I got you plates, salt, your phone, your phone again, a towel, a towel again, I got out of your way three times when you were carrying things.”

“So little stuff,” Edward interrupted.

“Little to you,” Rose said.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to put you in a maid outfit and have you dance,” Edward said. A very telling way of putting it, Rose figured. This was a dangerous conversation, she could tell. She didn’t WANT to be Edward’s nameless slave. Unless he wanted it. Tricky. However, she was extremely, very bored.

“Then lets see what we can do to make things more fun even with this,” she said, brightly. Rose crossed her legs. His eyes narrowed, but it was way too soon to suggest having sex again. “Like a walk. Outside. In the sunlight. Together.”

It was as close as she could get to telling him that she was unhappy, and she could feel beads of sweat. Her stomach started to hurt.

“Are you unhappy?” he said, cautiously. “I could…” His brow furrowed. Could do... what?

“Edward, lets go for a fuckin walk!” Rose said. “I promise not to get rustled. Or poached. Whatever. What’s wrong with KIDNAPPED?”

Edward smiled. Success. “I know!” he said. “We already have a word for it!”

March 24th

The boys played video games out in the living room. Rose would’ve loved to know what they were talking about. Especially because Lauren had showed up with a collar on.

In a way, it was the most normal interaction she’d had since the whole business had started. It was a tremendous relief to talk to another girl, even one she didn’t know particularly well. Lauren was in the same mold—comfy, pear-shaped, mildly nerdy. Chubby IT husbands. They’d chatted at work parties and gotten together a few times. Not really friends.

“Collar, huh?” Rose said.

“Yepppp,” Lauren confirmed. “Mm-hmm, wearing a collar.” She looked nonchalant. There was a certain swagger Rose had learned to identify, out on her walk. A casual, relaxed aura that said “I have been told to be cool, and I am, with all my heart.”

“It’s nice,” Rose said. It was nice. It was a red leather strap that was just a bit too tight to be an accessory. It was very much a collar—it had been cinched too high, and besides, there was a cheap tin heart strapped to it. “Engraved?”

“The heart? Yeah. It has David’s information on it. And the collar is hard to get casually off. Its free if Edward wants to get you one.”

The idea was very appealing. Rose was confident she wanted pink leather. Oh yes. She frowned at the thought. Had Edward told her to want this, or was that just part of the thing? She didn’t want to lick his toes or simper at him. Just do whatever he said.

And maybe suck his dick all the time, and some housework.

She realized Lauren was talking.

“...and he got me one of those rosaries too. And a little recording with basic stuff on it. And a lifealert. So I’m gonna start going out on my own and doing chores. Stuff like that. They’re gonna start doing Women’s Days at the major supermarkets, you should come. Police there and everything.”

“Oh! That sounds good,” Rose said, getting back to the conversation. Her eyes kept dipping down to the collar. “Does that itch?”

“It did, David took care of it.”

“Oh… oh! And that works?”

Lauren leaned forwards. She wore very brief bicycle shorts and a t-shirt. Rose was still encased in sweats and sweaters, and it was getting very tiring. It wasn’t like this was her normal look. “Rose, he can make you do almost anything. It’s pretty incredible. Has he put you to sleep?”

“No?”

“Just like that. He can even tell you when to wake up. Its wild. He can blank you out during workouts or anything boring. Just…. Whatever. Whatever he wants. You look skeptical.”

“Seems intense,” Rose said.

Lauren chortled. “Yeah, a little! But he must’ve… oh man. Well, nevermind.”

“What?” Lauren clearly wanted to be asked. She had leaned all the way forwards. Any further and she’d fall off the table. Her eyes gleamed with mock-wicked glee.

“He told you to cum, right?”

“Whoa,” Rose said. “Lauren!”

“He hasn’t? Oh man!” Lauren cackled. There was no other word for it. She took a long draught from her mug of tea. They were down to the chamomile, it had been a long time since either of them had gone to the store. “Its like… well, just do it. You’ll feel a lot better about all this crud.”

“We’re not doing that stuff,” Rose said, blushing, finally. “We’re just keeping it chill until there’s a cure. Don’t you worry about that? Someday this all wears off and your husband has you prancing around on a leash and jilling off on command?”

“A cure,” Lauren snorted. “Look, I’m not YOUR slave. So I am making friendly suggestions. Just have your husband make you cum, that’s all I’m insisting on. Rose, I know you are going to call me on the phone afterwards and say, Lauren, thank you for insisting on this. I have seen the lights.”

“We could just have sex, we don’t have to manipulate weird brain viruses,” Rose said.

Lauren looked down at her collar. She rubbed the cheap tin with the inlaid inscription. She smiled at Rose. “If you like!” she said. The boys started to yell at the video game, and the girls automatically went to check on them.

March 25th

They had very cautiously expanded walk range. Now it was all the way up the street to the intersection, carefully across the road, and then through the park. Edward securely held her hand the entire way. Rose wasn’t about to complain about it.

“If you want,” Edward said, in the neutral “I am not ordering you,” voice he used with anything virus-related.

“In pink,” Rose said. “If they have pink. I bet they don’t.”

“Pink. Got it. My name, phone number, pink, anything else? Pink color strap? Can’t this go on a necklace?”

“I’m sure it can,” Rose said. Another innovation she was trying out, agreeing without actually agreeing. There were ways around all this.

His hand tightened, which meant something weird was going on. This time it was a neighbor walking her dogs in a pair of skyscraper white heels, a pink mini, stockings, and a tight-fitting top that didn’t at all fit. It was too much a lazy afternoon to look all that sexy, and the shirt especially was designed for a slimmer girl.

“Do I do anything here?” Edward said, pained. He waved. The sex bomb waved back, cheerfully.

“Rustle her. Do it,” Rose said. “Yee-haw.” But he had asked a direct question. “No, I don’t think you need to. I bet her owner is around and he’s getting off on the whole scene. And there’s no one else around. People have to walk dogs still.” Dogs didn’t HAVE to obey, that was an advantage they had.

The girl bent over right in front of them. She wore pink and white striped panties. The dog, a little thing, looked at her with mild concern, as it hadn’t gone to the bathroom or anything.

“Yeah, its a sex thing,” Rose said. Edward’s grip had gotten a little too tight. She angled him back over towards the road. “We’ll see if she’s there when we get back.”

“I’m glad we’re not doing that,” Edward said. “What’s the point? Just—you don’t need to humiliate her.”

But she’s not humiliated, Rose thought. The girl was thrilling to it. Didn’t he get that?

Rose pushed closer to Edward. Her cum-conversation with Lauren kept playing through her head. All he had to do was say the word. Maybe she should suggest turning off the whole “don’t panic” reaction. It was hard to watch a girl get turned on in public without thinking: why not? Could be fun. And that couldn’t be natural.

That was when a teenage boy leaned out of the back of a Honda and yelled “CUM!” at her as loud as he could. The car peeled out to adolescent giggles.

Her body fired up. A flash of heat and sudden, unexpected pleasure stormed across her, like she was trying to speed through sex. Rose leaned against Edward, gasping, her face flushed. It wasn’t like an Edward-command, but it was a man, and it was going to be hard to fight. She managed to give Edward a wide-eyed stare.

“Don’t cum! Don’t cum!” he said, and glared off towards the boys. “Damn it!” his eyes swerved back to her, intense. “Rose, you listen to me, understand? Only me! You are mine! Forget those boys!”

It was gone. Rose looked around, puzzled. Something had—happened. Her whole body was drenched in sweat. “What was that?” she said, concerned.

“Oh—I—” Edward looked enraged, embarrassed. “Some kids were messing with you. You can—you can remember it. Sorry.”

“Oh. Oh!” Now the memories came back. So she’d nearly cum on command because some pimple-faced teens had played a prank. Kind of annoying. “I fought it off,” she told Edward. “I didn’t go all the way.” She was proud of herself.

“You can really do that? You can just.. Orgasm?” he looked wary.

It should’ve been scary. In the past she would’ve looked at Edward, fear in her eyes, and said “yes” in a small voice. But hey, everything was okay. And this was an opportunity. So instead Rose looked at her husband, risked a small smile, and said “yeahhhhhh.”

They walked back home very quietly. The neighbor was still outside, and waved cheerfully again.

March 25th

A walk at 12:30 p.m. Dinner at 5:30. Rose was bored and horny.

It was time for direct action. She looked herself in the mirror. Being owned had, so far, been good for her complexion. Mild skin, good lashes, overall creamy. She’d switched to a tanktop after the walk, and spent some time figuring out what sexy underwear to put on. Pink was right out—too much like the ornament walking the dog. It needed to be fun, nonthreatening. She remembered a pair of yellow boy shorts way in the back.

Perfect.

Rose found Edward, who was frowning in front of a tablet.

“Stop reading the news! It’s depressing you!” Rose said. She kicked at his feet.

“There’s these… riots… okay, you’re right.” Edward gave her another meaningful, intense look. Rose missed when he was vague and half-present. Him consciously picking every word was too much attention. “Tomorrow I go back to work. That’s okay? You’ll stay inside, right?”

“Honey, that’s an order,” Rose said. She sat on the couch and put her legs in his lap. She’d taken off her socks in preparation. “You know that, right?” She’d been ordered to relay if she’d been ordered inadvertently. It was tiring.

He chewed on that. “Do you mind if it’s an order?” he tried.

“Just say it and we can talk about if it’s a good idea! Lets do that,” Rose said. “I really appreciate not teetering around on heels like a dumbass. I do. I swear. And I love you for it. But if you don’t want me to go outside just say ‘Rose don’t go outside’ so at least I get a little thrill from obeying you. Okay?” She winced. “Ow.”

“Ow, what?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… that wasn’t me telling you what to do, sir,” Rose said. She had to change the subject. This was going to give her a headache. She rubbed her toes gently in her husband’s crotch. “Besides, we can use this positively, right?”

There his cock was. Unless he was jerking off on the side, which she doubted, he had to have a lot of steam built up.

“It’s not anything positive,” Edward said. He gestured portentiously at the tablet, at all the terrible news it was presumably giving him.

“But like, what if you told me to go jogging?” Rose said. “You could say I love jogging or something, and I would love it. Right? That’s how it works. I can have fun doing all sorts of stupid shit. I was talking to Lauren about it. It doesn’t have to be sex kitten stuff. It can just be like, mildly life-improving.”

“Yeah, well, David wanted to tell me about all the chores she’s doing, and he kept winking at me and hinting at other stuff. Basically he wanted to tell me she loves anal now.”

“I can see that,” Rose said. She massaged his dick with her toes. “I just mean like, tell me to write a book or something. Something positive. Or do art or something. I’m gonna be bored! What’s the alternative?”

“You being normal!” Edward said.

“Yeah, okay, but I’m not THAT, obviously. You already gave me a bunch of rules to follow.”

Edward tried a different tack. “Do what you want to do,” he said.

“Okay,” Rose said. As good an opening as any. She tugged down his pants and immediately took hold of his dick. Stroking it was a huge relief. They’d been getting close to having an argument and even the idea was stressful. It felt wrong not to be having regular sex. Or at least her doing SOMETHING for him. She climbed on top of his lap and put her boy shorts on his head. “They’re a little damp, sorry,” she said.

“Is this really what you want?” his hips were moving.

“It’s normal for us.. To… ah…. To fuck! We fucked all the time! I’m even on top! Its dominant!”

“Are you gonna call me Daddy?” They were right up against each other. It felt so good, so right, to make out. She’d needed it so badly. None of this namby-pamby “normalcy” shit. She needed to be his, why deny it?

“M-maybe,” she admitted. But something was off. His cock inside of her, his hands moving her hips up and down, she should’ve cum already. But of course she knew the reason. He’d told her not to cum, after the boys yelled at her.

“You gotta tell me to cum,” she said. He was getting close to busting in her. “I can’t—you told me—”

“What?”

“Tell me to cum. Please. Please, sir.”

“I’m…” he was grunting. It was transcendent, feeling him empty inside of her. She stopped asking. It was his call if she came. He finally found his voice. “Cum, slut.”

It was the single greatest moment of Rose’s life.

March 26th

Rose woke up in bed at 4:35 a.m.

She bolted upright. So it had all been a strange and incredible dream—some sort of weird sex nightmare of service and submission. Maybe something to explore in the bedroom, or, also a good idea, in therapy. In any case, it was a relief to put behind her. Rose looked over at her quietly slumbering owner.

Owner. She mouthed it out loud. The rest of the past week flooded in, accompanied with a list of iron-clad orders she had to follow implicitly. And… yes… she was already wet.

Rose laid back down. Well, shoot.

But it was an enormous relief to have finally cum. She needed to service her husband, that was Order One, and it was as important as the rest put together. Her man needed to cum in her. Somewhere in her. Draining his balls was important. True, it could go too far, and she didn’t want to end up as his suck-toy particularly, but….

Maybe a little sucking.

“You made breakfast, huh?” Edward said, one and a half hours later.

“Cereal, with milk, and coffee,” Rose confirmed. “You can’t complain! I know this is what you want!”

“I mean… yeah. I guess,” Edward said. Rose beamed. She’d worked hard to get it right. Of course Edward would’ve hated some elaborate pancake thing with garnishes and marinades or whatever. He ate cheerios every morning. So he could hardly complain if the cereal was laid out just so, with the spoon on a napkin, and the coffee made to just the right temperature.

“It’s your first day back at work! I need to make sure you don’t return with a half-dozen girls. A flock, if you will,” Rose said.

“An e-mail went out, saying not to bring women to the office. God only knows what prompted that,” Edward said. Rose was mildly disappointed. She’d considered suggesting it. Why not? It was going to be tedious in the house all day. “But I guess they’re making a Women’s Channel on Netflix, might be worth checking out. You can… uh… do that.”

“Cool,” Rose said. “Hey, I want to try something. Order me to be good at backrubs.”

“These orders build up, you know,” Edward said. He poured the milk, and gave her a wan thumbs-up after the first bite. “I’m trying not to be casual about them.”

Rose had gotten good at the “please?” look. And Edward wasn’t fighting back as hard. “You’re incredible at giving me backrubs. You want to give me the best backrub ever.”

The second part was his own initiative. Rose cracked her fingers. “Okay. I’m great at this.” And she was, she believed it wholeheartedly. It was written right there, on the very top layer of her mind. She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed right where she had absolute confidence the stress was.

Edward cringed. “Stop!”

Rose halted. The orders conflicted. But she was the best. And she wanted to give him a backrub so very much. “Okay, that didn’t work,” Edward said. “How about this. Forget… no. I can’t do forget. I should write that down. Erase…. Cancel. Cancel the backrub orders. How’s that? Go back to before the backrub orders.”

That did it. Rose sighed, disappointed.

“Rose, I’ve never even wanted a backrub in my entire life,” Edward said. He sipped from his coffee. “This is excellent. Concentrate on coffee instead of backrubs.” She agreed. So learning about coffee would be a good use of time. “Alright. Today. Stay out of trouble. Stay inside. And… enjoy yourself. Wait. I have an idea. You like hanging around at home today. It’s great. You’re happy about it. How’s that?”

It was… she’d have to think about it. These open-ended orders were hard to parse. “Have fun at work, sir,” Rose said.

“We’ll talk tonight about the Sirs,” Edward said.

He didn’t order her not to say them, she noticed.

She was… happier. A lot happy. It was a new, pleasant, strange experience. Rose couldn’t recall ever being generically happy ever before. Sure, she’d enjoyed herself, she’d had plenty of fun, she even would’ve described herself as “basically happy” if pressed. But not like this. This was much much more… happy.

It manifested a number of ways. She felt mildly drunk, for one. That calm sense of well-being that settled in at around two drinks. Confident, that was another bit. And even the stupidest shit was setting Rose off in girlish giggles. Plus even her nerves were cheerfully aglow. Rose rubbed her fingers on her underarm. Her entire arm tingled pleasantly. She tried blowing on her palm. Yep, even that felt good.

So good.

Rose couldn’t think of any reason not to get off.

She had already done every chore she could possibly think of. Dinner bubbled in the crockpot. Edward could hardly complain about not making dinner if it was already ready. Chores had been fun as hell. Music was still off-limits, although Edward promised a safe set was on the way, so she’d hummed it out. Heck, the absurdity of it all was pretty fun and funny too. Here she was, a kept woman, eagerly awaiting her new collar’s arrival, doing chores by herself, and having an extremely good time.

She needed to ask Edward for a vibrator for these long days. But it was pure bliss to shuck her pants off and let her body out. Every breeze was a caress, after all. Before, Rose would only get off in the bedroom, with the door closed, and accompanied by a lot of hangups and self-doubts. Now she just rubbed away. It was wonderful, a self-affirming little orgasm that was the chemical equivalent of a bubble bath.

After some thought, Rose took a shot of her naked thighs, squeezed close, and sent it to Edward. He was at work, and besieging him with her sexy side seemed like a fun idea.

The doorbell rang.

Rose stood up, alarmed and half-naked. Concern poked through the happy, post-orgasmic haze. What if it was a man? Of course she’d service him sexually to the best of her—but no, Edward had drilled commandments on this deep into her head. She belonged to him.

But what if another man said she didn’t?

“Hello! I heard you cum! I’m April!” a cheerful and distinctly female voice. Rose still peeked cautiously through the shades, just in case a man was lurking. The threat of rustlers was presumably real. But no—this was the bimbo from before, the one walking her dog. The dog was there, sniffing cautiously around the front door. The girl was once again extremely made-up, dressed for play and ready to go. This time in a magenta mini-shirt and pantyhose, and a black bustier her tits spilled out of.

Maybe she just needed a cup of sugar? Rose opened the door after quickly tugging on her sweats. April’s eyes were bright and shiny. “Hi neighbor! I heard you moaning and thought, we girls should say hello! I live up the street!”

Alright. “Uh, come on in?” Rose said. If nothing else, she was curious. And with the panic gone inviting people over seemed like a nice idea. What wasn’t? “Edward and I saw you walking around yesterday, sorry we didn’t say hi. He’s protective.”

“This is Missy. Luckily she’s a girl!” April said, regarding the dog. April walked in and sat down immediately on the couch. She didn’t bother to cross her legs, which is how it was clear she had no panties on.

“Yeah, you’d have to decode a bunch of barks otherwise,” Rose said. “Something to drink?” It was nice to play hostess, too.

“Just water. I’m all done drinking alcohol,” April said. “Got rid of a bunch of bad habits in a hurry!” She giggled, and Rose joined in. “No more biting my nails, no more split ends. Thanks! Wow, it’s different to be waited on.”

Missy surveyed her new territory. She disappeared into a bedroom. Rose peered after her, mildly concerned.

“What’s with the clothes?” April said, gesturing to her pants.

“What, my pants?” Rose said. “They’re pants.”

“Ah,” April nodded.

“I was going to ask you the same question once it was polite,” Rose said. “Your husband likes you dressing like this, right? That’s what his thing is? It’s cool if it is, I’m just curious what all the men are doing with this. Mine is just wandering around being guilty about it.”

“My husband?” April said. She looked genuinely puzzled. Recognition dawned very slowly. “Oh, my owner. He said he was bored with husband, sorry.”

Rose bit her lip. “Sure.”

“No, no! It’s my idea,” April said. She stood up and did an unnecessary twirl. “Isn’t it fun? No, my owner hasn’t told me anything except all the pamphlet-y stuff and just that I was his horny fuckable bimbo girl. The rest is my decision!”

Rose nodded, slowly. Horny… fuckable… bimbo girl. What would happen if Edward told her to be a pirate? Would she start saying ‘yarr?’

“So of course that’s just what a girl like me does!” April explained. “I figured you had a similar thing when I heard you getting off! You kinda scream like a cat.”

“I’m just… No. I’m just…” Rose couldn’t make herself say normal. She’d just gotten off in her living room. She was having a polite conversation with a re-made bimbo. Who was starting to finger herself. And it was all fine! Fun and fine and fun. “Everything okay? You’re… ah… stroking yourself.”

“Oh! Am I touching myself? Do you mind?” She only pulled her finger out a half-inch before letting it dawdle again. Rose’s houseguest was slowly starting to ease back into the couch. The dog pattered around the bedrooms. Rose could hear her collar jingle. She kept her eyes between April’s legs. It’d be fun to join in, wouldn’t it? No doubt even a horny bimbo and Rose had plenty to chat about. It’d be a heck of a lot of fun to see what a sexy wet girl could do to her.

“April? Come on back!” this time it was a man’s voice. April stood up immediately. “Oh, sorry! Sorry! I’m in here!” She ran outside without the dog, who didn’t seem in a hurry.

Rose followed her to the door. She hadn’t spoken to a man besides Edward since before the virus, not counting the boys in the car.

It was strange to look at another man. It wasn’t HER man, wasn’t someone she belonged to. But… it was still different, looking at a male. Her knees were a little weaker, she hunched her shoulders just a bit, she wanted to know if he’d like a drink. Or anything. She’d have to talk to Edward about this. Another round of orders might help.

And then he was walking up to the door. It was impossible to be concerned. Rose told herself to be ready to run. Edward had told her what to do. But he wasn’t here. The man was just a few feet away. He was older. Pudgy.

“I think you have my dog,” he said, sheepish.

“Oh. Oh! Of course! Oh, here she comes,” Missy bolted through the door, tapped cheerfully around the man’s legs. April, over on the sidewalk, gave a cheerful wave. “It was nice to see you!”

“Nice to see you too,” the man said. Rose basked in the compliment. The man thought of something. “You don’t mind if April comes by, I hope? You don’t look like you mind.” He glanced down for just a second. Rose followed his look.

There was a big wet patch on her pants.

He smiled at her.

Edward came home surly and horny.

“Everyone is treating this like some big joke,” he said, over dinner. “Leaving aside the women-are-chattel bit, the entire world is falling apart and everyone is too busy telling their girls to wake them up with a blowjob to care. I told my boss’s boss that the entire server architecture is beat to shit and no one is maintaining it, and he gave me this idiotic shrug and then went home for a two hour lunch. The power went out for awhile, too.”

Rose nodded, encouraging. She was struggling with his horny-but-mad attitude. It wasn’t totally clear even to her how she knew he was hard. She hadn’t seen a bulging dick or anything. He just—was.

“Did anyone bring their girlfriends in?” she probed. Rose hadn’t taken a bite yet. It was too distressing to have her husband upset.

“Ugh, yes. It was so weird. They just sat quietly in the cubicle. I’m sure they were doling out blowjobs but at least civilization is intact enough that they stayed quiet. And… and yeah.”

He was hiding something. It was funny, overall this virus was a big relationship strain, but she’d never be accused of not paying attention to him. Rose was dialed in.

“Did I ever mention Carrie?” Edward said. His eyes darted around.

“Carrie…” Rose frowned. “Oh, wait. No. Yes. No… I can’t remember. You must not’ve because I’d remember if you had, I think that’s how it works now.”

“Yeah, I doubt I mentioned her. She… was… kind of a t-shirt and jeans girl? You know, living in IT world? Anyway, she didn’t have a boyfriend I guess, and she came in to work… and she’s sort of stuck there now.”

“Stuck?” Rose said.

“Yeah… the Boss said he can’t take her home, and she still works really hard… so she’s kind of the Department’s. I was going to write an e-mail to HR about it.”

“You have an office pet?” Rose said. “Is everyone just fucking her?” She tapped her fingers on the table.

“No! No,” Edward said. “She’s working really hard. She’s very smart. It’s just… the boys couldn’t resist making her dress up.”

Dress up?

“Oh, so she’s prancing around in minis,” Rose said. She wasn’t judging, although the words kept coming out judging. It was all fine. She still felt good.

“It’s fucked up,” Edward said. He had yet to take notice of her cooking. Rose had risked looking through the cookbooks. They were by girls, so there seemed little risk of a stray command. It still wasn’t clear to her what reading a male-written recipe would do. Would a boy cookbook sink in as a stern command to follow the recipe?

But she had more important things to worry about.

“Edward, I cannot let you fuck this slutty office girl! Unless that’s what you want!” Rose said, standing up. She pointed her finger at Edward. “I’m going to need to bang you so hard you are incapable of performing sexually at work!”

His struggle with himself was noticeable but brief. The logic of it was very clear to Rose, and she could feel it settling in on her husband, as well. There were a lot of temptations out there and it was responsible and adult for her to dutifully drain his balls. Part of their marriage, or mastership, or whatever it now was, meant keeping him sexually satisfied.

But it was still a surprise when he asked her to bend over.

It wasn’t quite an ask. “Want to try something different?” Edward asked, pushing a plate aside. The hesitation she had noticed had evaporated. He moved with taut, quick gestures that were unlike him. It made her concerned. How close had he actually come to unloading in Carrie’s mouth?

“I’m not a say-no kind of girl,” Rose said. A meaningful look from her husband was practically the same as an order. She leaned over the table and stuck her butt out. Edward had lots of surprises in store. He rubbed a finger up and down from the crack of her ass to the front of her pants.

“I’m really juicy all the time now,” Rose told him. “I have to drink more water.” He slid her pants off, admired the view. They’d never done anything—anything!—remotely like this. Either he was on top or she was. If things got truly kinky she’d fuck him cowgirl on the couch. The dinner table, that was out.

He tore her panties off. Rose paused at that too, but the fact of his desire, his need, followed it. Her legs shook. It felt so good to be wanted so bad. To be needed. She felt his focus on her, on aiming his cock between her legs, and luxuriated in it. But it was concerning, too. She couldn’t let him get this horny, ever again. They’d fuck before work, for certain.

Rose felt him push in. “Thank god,” Edward grunted, once he was balls-deep. He nearly collapsed over her. Two red hands landed on the table. She could barely move. Rose was vaguely aware that in the past this would’ve been hardly sexually satisfying. She had to arch her back as far as it would go, strain her legs, and Edward was doing little more than rocking. But the sweat of him over her, his hoarse breathing, his grunt of relieved satisfaction—of course she came when he did.

Old Edward reappeared when she conked her chin on the table, cumming. “Oh, oh fuck,” he said, trying to hold her up while still emptying out. They nearly fell to the floor in a hot, confused heap. Edward managed to get her into a chair. His pants were around his ankles. He still had his work clothes on. “Are you okay? Rose?”

Rose got it together just enough for a thumb-sup. And then, for emphasis, she added a second one.

March 27th

R:

How’s work?

R:

Is it okay that we’re texting while you’re at work?

E:

Yeah it’s fine I’m waiting for some stuff to load.

R:

Is Carrie there?

E:

No!

R:

Okay I believe you

R:

Of course….

R:

Can you take a picture of her?

E:

Uhhhh

E:

Why?

R:

I’m curious about the office pet! I’m bored. I feel like I should keep tabs on the people in your life. Should I stop? You asked why.

E:

Alright alright. I haven’t seen her yet today. She’s actually living here… it’s weird.

R:

Does she have a shower and stuff.

E:

Uhhh… no.

R:

Okay?

E:

I’ll look into that I guess.

R:

hey thanks for taking the happy button off

R:

it felt really weird.

R:

Good but weird.

R:

REALLY good.

R:

u there?

E:

Yeah Carrie stopped by.

E:

She smells.

R:

Tell her not to smell, I bet it works.

R:

Not ‘don’t smell’... you know. ‘Stop being smell-producing.’

R:

This is hard!

E:

I KNOW.

R:

hey

R:

do you want to try taking me off Fine

E:

what?

R:

Oh you know, when you said Everything’s Okay right when it happened. In morning in bed.

R:

Like it’s hard to react to stuff, a half-naked lady can show up on the doorstep and i’m like, cool, this is cool.

R:

and I know it’s not ME so i’m curious what it’d be like without it

E:

Alright uhhh

E:

I don’t know what command that would be

E:

You really haven’t been freaking out because of that?

E:

This entire time?

R:

I mean I don’t KNOW but i suspect???

R:

Did you get a picture of Carrie by the way

R:

here’s one of me

E:

oh wow

R:

yeah i shaved this morning :)

R:

It just feels so good to do something like that.

R:

wow it’s easier to say this stuff on text

R:

Like if you said nice ass i might cum.

R:

it’s really, really raw.

E:

cum

R:

i nearly cracked the phone.

R:

can you come home???

E:

cum

R:

oh my god.

R:

please come home

R:

I need you.

E:

cum

E:

was that too much?

E:

I was just playing around with this. I’m trying to be more relaxed.

E:

okay, lets do this. I gotta get back to work. You’re okay waiting for me.

E:

and you can be off Fine.

E:

Call me if you need anything.

Much to unpack.

There was nothing less intense about getting told to cum via text. It hit Rose the same way every time—as a bell ringing in her head, a wave of sudden heat, and a crash of electric pleasure that briefly shut her down. It was lucky she hadn’t cracked her head. Her panties were completely soaked through, and her entire body was exhausted by it. She still felt mildly sparkling, her head glommed with warm fuzzies. Rose wondered what it’d be like if he just stood there and calmly told her to cum, over and over. There was no way she’d wake up the same person. It was a prod right into her limbic system.

Rose picked herself up and sat down on the couch. She’d never been so tired. She sat around in a half-stupefied cum stupor until she finally got the energy to check her phone.

She read Edward’s last few texts.

Everything wasn’t necessarily fine.

“Oh, fuck,” Rose said.

It had been the very first command he’d given her. A panicked, repeated “Everything’s fine, Rose! Everything’s okay!”

And he’d taken it away.

She’d wondered if she’d feel like a different person, with that stripped away. But it turned out—she’d just been very, very carefully not thinking about all sorts of things. They appeared in a swarm, as tired as she was.

“Oh, fuck!” Rose said, her eyes wide. She was chattel. Owned, property. She was Edward’s… whatever Edward wanted. Or any guy, ultimately, but currently, she really needed to make Edward happy all the time. No wonder she was so horny-juicy. Men were men, and men liked their women ready to go. Casually, happily wet, always up to wink and bend over. No wonder she was so suddenly eager to get Edward’s dick in her mouth. He didn’t need to order her. What kind of pet would she be, if he had to ask? Rose was very sure she’d shave and primp and dress up hot no matter what.

And then: what about the future? Logically it was all a one-way trip to being his personal cocksucker and little more. That was just men being men. Sooner or later he’d joke about fucking her in the butt and then she’d be his little anal whore. He’d probably knock her up and do a harem thing. A conscientious hard worker like Edward with an important skill was set to take care of a bunch of girls. And she’d have to work extra hard to keep primacy.

Plus there were a lot of concerns about the current status of the world. And a new, keen regret for not getting to do that much in life besides fuck and suck and be fun. For Edward.

On the other hand…. Edward.

She really did want to make Edward happy.

It was a lot to take in, especially after three earth-shattering cums that had probably knocked some brain cells out. Rose slouched deeper into the couch. How the heck were they going to get to the supermarket? They were running out of stuff. It was probably best to concentrate on little concerns like that.

And she had to believe that Edward wanted more then a cum receptacle.

Probably.

Rose picked up the phone.

R:

Hey thanks but can you put me back on ‘fine’???

April 2nd

In many ways it was the normally-dressed women on leashes that were the most disconcerting.

The girls in slutty skirts, and obviously no underpants, it sort of fit that they were on leads. Very few had an actual collar on, but they were tethered one way or another—lines on their wrists, tied to handmade cuffs. Attached most often to a backpack. None of the leashes were very long—the men kept quite close to the girls anyway, their hands protective at all times. It was clear from their glares that Mall Etiquette was going to take some getting used to.

But the truly disconcerting women were the ones in their mid-40s, or above, their paunchy husbands taut behind them. They wore jeans, same as before, and sensible haircuts, and although they wore makeup, they still had a mom-aura that wouldn’t quit.

And they were leashed just the same.

The line for collars stretched on and on, and then into Claires. That was all they were selling, personalized ones.

“We could’ve gone to Petsmart,” Rose said.

“We’re not getting you an actual dog collar,” Edward said. “This is supposed to be practical. The government is paying for it. Which I guess explains the fucking line.”

“Yeah… the fucking line,” Rose said. “We need some rules on that, huh?”

Normal societal boundaries on touching and stroking were being loosely enforced. It seemed to Rose pretty likely that sooner or later someone would just get blown between Cinnabon and Express and that would be it. Blowjobs in public on demand. It wasn’t going to happen today, but already things were changing. Men put their hands pretty much wherever they wanted. Panties were treated as pockets. Girls squirmed and touched their owners as much as they could.

But for now, civilization was holding up. At least, no one had run up and yelled “CUM!” at the girls in line. A few men were conspicuously armed, that might’ve had something to do with it.

“Do we know what’s the holdup?” the man behind them said. He had two girls with him, one a very short girl with remnants of goth in her eyeshadow. The other was a willowy coffee-colored girl. They were nonetheless dressed identically, in a scoop-neck purple top that showed off tits.

“Get to the front of the line, suddenly need to figure out what they want, that’s my bet,” Edward said. He eyed the man with doubt. He’d complained again about twosomes to Rose last night. “Like at McDonalds.”

“That must be it,” the man agreed. He had a similar IT vibe to her husband, just shorter, and with bigger glasses. He hadn’t bothered with leashes. “Or Starbucks. I want…. Uhhhhhh…. Uhhhhhhhhhh…. Coffee. I’m Paul.” He didn’t bother to introduce the girls. Although he did take his hand out of the goth girl’s underpants to offer to shake hands. Edward reluctantly shook. That was another taboo down. Rose made a note to buy hand sanitizer.

“This is ROSE,” Edward made a point of saying. “My wife.”

“Oh! Where are my manners. This is Julie and Lisa.” There was no indication which was which. “The deal here is we get name and phone number, right? Are people really at the front of the line saying “Daddy’s Princess” on theirs?”

“Princesses,” Edward said, looking at the twosome.

“We’re not married. I mean, I GUESS we are,” Paul said. He was surprised when the two girls squealed, excited, and showered his cheeks with kisses. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. Yay. Was that legal? We’re married now, then.”

Edward radiated his disapproval. Rose clutched his arm. No need to denounce polygamy right here, right now.

“Julie,” apparently that was the goth-girl, he nodded at her. “She’s my neighbor. Lived by herself.”

Julie spoke up. “I actually asked him to give me a few commands, just to see what it felt like,” she said. She had a sing-song sorority-girl voice that didn’t match at all with her pale complexion. “I was SO sure I could just laugh it off, you know? And then he’s like super-confident, you belong to me, and I was like, WHOA I do.” she giggled.

“Yeah. And Lisa is on loan,” Paul said.

“On loan?” Edward was getting more and more stiff. Rose squeezed his hand.

“From a friend,” Paul said. “He was one of those guys that kind of fell into a pool of pussy and really can’t handle it. He was the only male in an entire escrow office. Lisa’s the secretary.”

“The five of us tried to fuck him all at once and he nearly died,” Lisa explained.

“What’s it like swapping guys?” Rose asked her, genuinely curious. Edward squeezed her hand back. “What? I can’t switch! I’m just interested. I don’t get any say in this!”

Lisa licked her lips, thoughtful. Behind them a girl shuddered in a nice juicy cum, and fell neatly into her husband’s arms. They were both well over 50. “It’s like switching religions,” she said, eventually.

“What am I? Lutheran? Catholic?” Paul said.

“Paul,” Lisa said. “Church of Paul.”

“I told them to be clever,” Paul said, proudly. “I know the trend is, shall we say, not taxing intellectual capacity, but where’s the fun in that? Girls can be brainy and horny. It figures that guys are threatened even when they can tell a girl to jump and she’ll do it.”

Both Lisa and Julie hopped, just in case.

The choker was not leather. They had run out of leather. It was a simple nylon strap and Rose had no doubt whatsoever it had been manufactured for dog purposes. It barely fit around her neck. On it was a small heart design engraved with her name, Edward’s name, Edward’s phone number. She loved it.

“I love it,” she said. She kept admiring it. The collar felt good. The fit was comfortable and adjustable. “Thank you.”

“I’m pretty sure the virus is what loves it,” Edward said. “I don’t think you were looking for neck jewelry a few weeks ago. Stick close. I didn’t go to the trouble of getting a collar to get you stolen away.”

“I bet you could get a lot for me in trade,” Rose said. “What am I worth?”

“Oh my god,” Edward said. He rubbed his face. They were finally outdoors. As usual, Edward was all mixed signals. Face composed, set, stern. Obvious erection poking down his pants. “Rose, honey, I have bad news. Girls aren’t worth very much right now. Too obliging.” He kept looking at her choker, too. Clearly he liked it.

They climbed into Edward’s car. She hadn’t driven hers, doubted she ever would again. “Well, that was fun. Now you have a collar,” Edward said.

“I think you like it.” Rose said.

“It’s a COLLAR!”

“It’s okay to like it,” Rose said. “I like it.” She decided on a different tack. “Look, you like when I’m being clever, right?”

“Yes!” Edward nearly slammed the steering wheel. Yes, he was definitely horny. What if he had said no? That would’ve changed her life pretty fast. Rose adjusted towards him.

“Okay. So it’ll be easier for you to dislike... if its not a turn-on, fair to say?”

Edward gave her a look.

“It’s not YOU liking it, Edward. It’s the fact that you’ve got all that cum in your balls. The cum is making you distracted. Once they’re nice and drained, you can hate the choker. That’s logical, right? Clever? I can’t get rid of the virus, but you can get rid of the distracting cum. In. Your wife’s. Mouth. Right now.”

Edward froze. “I guess that’s true,” he said, slowly.

Rose hadn’t really thought this through. Why was she offering to blow her husband in a parking lot? But of course it was obvious. It’s what he wanted. He wanted to face-fuck her while the choker dangled between her tits. She relaxed, picking his cock out of his pants. He was very hard. Yes, this was not great for keeping any sort of partnership between them, her fellating him on demand. But on the other hand, it would be a lot easier than interpreting Edward’s chronically mixed signals. He gave a happy little sigh as she lowered her mouth onto his dick.

It was disconcerting, how immediately good she felt about blowing him. Her pussy was sending all sorts of signals to her brain.

Objectively it was uncomfortable, wasn’t it, bending over half-turned in a car passenger seat? Objectively. Blowing a guy was always a challenge. She had to keep her teeth back, her mouth open, her throat relaxed, and half the time the man started ramming his cock thoughtlessly into her esophagus.

But this, nonetheless, this made Rose want to blow him all the time. The scent of his cock was divine. It was extremely Edward and a semi-sour, all-male smell that would’ve made her lick her lips, if there wasn’t a penis between them already. Everything about it was surprisingly perfect. But especially the way he affectionately rubbed the back of her slurping, nuzzling head. The dick itself, the essence of her husband, leaking lots of precum into her mouth. It was all very nice.

Rose wondered, with what little bits of consciousness not devoted to cocksucking, if this was what the virus was really all about. The creator had wanted more blowjobs, and the only way there was to turn women into utterly subservient slaves. There had been no other way there. There were probably a few girls who were really dedicated cocksuckers, but Rose wasn’t one of them, and it seemed pretty unlikely many women were. But now? She’d blow Edward whenever he wanted. All the time. And right now, the flood of cum in her mouth was enough to crash her nervous system, and send her into a shivering, quivering orgasm.

She woke up on her own couch.

“Again?” Rose snorted. “I gotta stop passing out.”

April 7th

Running used to be harder.

Edward had given her quite a few commands about it, and now it wasn’t very difficult at all. In the past week he’d gotten… not “casual” about giving her orders. “Positive,” perhaps. Or maybe it was just all getting normalized, like she’d known it would. The first order was the hard one. Every other one got easier.

True, he’d started an excel spreadsheet to keep track of them, which was very thoughtful, and unnecessary. Rose could recite all of them. He’d titled it “Rose.xls”.

Edward wasn’t exactly a programmer, but he was programmer-adjacent, and Rose knew he was reading all sorts of stuff on reddit. He’d mentioned it, guiltily. “Girlhacks” was the big one. “It’s non-sexual only,” he’d told her, which didn’t seem very likely.

So it had been ultimately his idea to start exercising. Or someone on reddit’s idea, which he was now experimenting with.

“You like jogging. You like exercising,” he had told her.

“What kind of like?” Rose had said, the truth of it seeping into her. Jumping jacks sounded good.

Edward hadn’t thought of that. “What are my options?”

“Well there’s like, affectionate, enjoy, sexual-like, I don’t know,” Rose had said. “There’s a bunch of different ways to like something. Like how you enjoy TV is different from enjoying sex, I guess?”

“Huh, that’s fair,” Edward had said. “Hmmmmm. Lets go 95% enjoyment of being a more productive person… and….. 5% sex.”

He trailed behind her, gasping. They were both on the heavy side. They’d even both tried New Year’s Eve weight loss resolutions, which is why Rose still had the workout attire. It hadn’t at all stuck.

But now the burning sensation in her legs, the shortness of breath, that wasn’t bothersome at all. Even without the order Rose was pretty sure it was nice to get out and do something. Spotify had finally gotten a safe-for-girls music app together, but TV and books were still off-limits.

Most of all, 5% sexual seemed like a lot, when every single step made her thighs rub together, her tits swing back and forth. Not that Edward had much choice but to trail her—for safety reasons and because he was mostly couch—but she was confident he was staring at her ass.

His motivation for running was that Rose was going to blow him after the jog. That was another thing. It was driving her as crazy as him to have to wait to suck him off. Both of them were moving extremely fast, all things considered.

Her husband had put her on a diet, too. “Lets both get to a healthy weight,” he’d declared. “We’ll both use this as an opportunity,”

“Sure,” Rose had said. There went sweets for the rest of her life. Oh well.

“Opportunity” was increasingly becoming a synonym for “sex”. It was the perfect reward system, Rose supposed. Nature’s candy. It burned calories, it was free, it was definitely fun, and it brought them closer together as a couple. Although, mostly it was bringing Rose’s lips to Edward’s dick. He didn’t HAVE to work for it, that was true. She would’ve toddled over to him and sucked him regardless. No doubt most husbands were using this time to get fat and well-fucked.

Edward slapped her ass as she ran. Now they were really hurrying. She could already taste him. Or maybe that was from last night, after Edward had finished his salad.

April was already out of doors, this time more modestly dressed for a chilly day. Pink trainers and a matching pink hoodie. She waved hello from the bench out front of that house. Rose waved back. She was increasingly wondering if April was an outdoor bimbo. Did she ever go inside?

They got inside the house. Edward immediately collapsed on the couch, his shirt dark grey with damp dripping sweat. His face burned a florid red. “Oh god,” he moaned. “Does this get easier? I could feel my organs jolting around. This is awful.”

He still had enough energy to shuck down the waistband on his sweats. Rose had stripped off her shirt and gotten on to her knees. She was still breathing hard, and took a moment to try and get her breath back. It was tough to wait. He was all manly sweat and aching red dick.

“Come on,” Edward said, crossly. Well, so much for recovery time. Rose dipped forward. His irritation was a spur. Rose discarded the idea of just licking the underside while she recovered at breathing. She’d just have to make do. It’d get easier once she’d lost more weight, no doubt.

Or maybe Edward was just that ready to go. He dumped a load onto her tits. He still had reservations about cumming in her mouth.

“Ohhh, man,” Edward said. “That’s probably a bad idea. I’ll have a heart attack. You’re such a good cocksucker.”

Yes, she was.

He’d been saying that to her a lot. Was it just a casual compliment, or something he’d read online? Rose had been hearing it a lot and it was not just true but increasingly true. The obstacle was that she couldn’t read any sex manuals or watch any sex videos. She was self-taught. Luckily, it was easy to learn when she had Edward to practice on.

And April had been coming over to help, too. They’d been getting in practice on bananas. Rose’s gag reflex was practically nonexistent.

“Thank you, sir,” Rose said.

He’d stopped protesting the sir stuff. It was a relief for them both.

April 10th

The text read “I’m bringing Carrie over. Be nice.”

“Oh CRAP, Carrie is coming over,” Rose said.

“Carrie is who, exactly?” April said. She had started coming over, just about every day. The two of them were becoming good friends, not to mention opening a strong teacher-student relationship over blowjobs.

“I’ve mentioned her before,” Rose said, patiently. The major thing about life with April was that she was a real ditz and no mistake. Things had to be carefully spooned out to her in bite-size thought chunks. And it seemed possible she was getting dumber. Certainly her friend was getting even sluttier. She had stopped wearing underpants entirely. “That’s the work girl Edward has.”

“Ahhh, the work girl,” April said. “Master says they’ve got like a pool? I’m not sure what that means? Like he has sex with a pool? Sounds weird!”

April’s master had restarted work, which was a relief. Rose had a rough time with the push-pull of “its a man” and “its not Edward” being around. And what he’d turned April into was not reassuring.

“He doesn’t fuck her,” Rose said. She believed that. “She’s like their eye candy. And she actually does work I guess? Edward said they need the help or the pacific seaboard network would fall apart? Something like that.”

“SURE he doesn’t,” April said. Rose couldn’t recall hearing sarcasm from April before. She flushed.

“Well, you gotta go,” Rose announced. “I have to be nice and I need to clean up before she gets here.”

“Clean up WHAT?” April scoffed.

It was a fair point. At this point there weren’t any chores Rose wasn’t doing. Just a few nights ago she’d had an earnest and adult discussion with Edward which had been very honest and partner-y. And it had ended with a mutual decision that she might as well do all the chores, all of them, and what’s more, she might as well really love doing them. Find them incredibly enjoyable. Kinda hot and sexy fun, scrubbing toilets and doing dishes and mopping floors.

She’d made a note to talk to Edward about it. The commands were a little bit... much. Rose had cum cleaning off the tables, which was just a BIT too intense. And she’d found herself figuring out a way to clean the ceiling. The entire house sparkled. The idea of doing the bushes outside had her kind of breathless and wet. She was saving that for a slow day.

“Just go!” Rose said, hustling April out. She checked her outfit, her makeup in the mirror. That was another change. She wasn’t at April-level sluttiness but the truth was to be a good cocksucker you had to wear lipstick. And if you wore lipstick you had to wear makeup. And if you wore makeup you had to do a good job of it.

Clothes were becoming a problem. She hadn’t bought anything new since pre-virus, and what she owned was getting baggy and loose with the jogging-based weight loss. Well, Carrie coming over meant she had to go to the absolute max. Rose solemnly pulled out her volleyball shorts from when she was much younger. She slid them on. Perfect fit. No undies. And a casual note: with a pokemon shirt from the same era. At least her tits hadn’t gotten particularly smaller.

“We’re here!” Edward said, not long afterwards. There wasn’t any traffic to speak of. Half the population wasn’t allowed behind the wheel.

“Be nice,” Rose repeated. Another vague command. Nice to Carrie? It HAD to mean nice to EDWARD, right?

“You’re Carrie? Hi!” she bubbled, opening the door. Rose forced down the note of anxiety. Her lipstick was perfect. She’d sucked Edward off that morning. She was HIS. And Carrie was here.

It helped that Carrie really did need a shower enormously. She looked sexy, bedraggled. Rose stared at her intently. This wasn’t a man, this wasn’t someone she was required to love and tend and fuck. This was a girl, a petite asian girl in tight yoga pants.

And it was clear to her, despite the warning flashes in her head, that ‘BE NICE’ applied to Edward.

“Hi, I’m Rose, very nice to meet you,” Rose chimed. What was the etiquette for girls saying hi? A handshake? She settled for a wave.

Carrie gave her a weary nod. She didn’t look that good, if Rose was being honest. Yes, she had been heavily made up, but her hair was a greaseball and she looked exactly like someone who slept in an office. Rose steeled her heart. This was the competition.

Edward hustled her on. “Carrie, this way, go ahead and take a shower.”

That was an order. An order to HER. Rose turned away. Of course it was totally fine, Edward could order around whatever girl he wanted. Heck, he could order them to be friends, and she would. She would be BEST friends with this woman in her house. If she was ordered.

“Need any help?” Rose said, so Edward could hear. Carrie didn’t respond to that either. She stripped in front of both of them, in the bedroom. Nice rear. Eh tits. Rose seemed to remember her being skinnier—probable she was living on geek food 24/7, which was far from ideal. The girl disappeared into the bathroom. The shower clicked on.

“Is she okay?” Rose said, uneasy. It would’ve been a small thing for Edward to just say, be happy.

“Ehhhhh the team kinda screwed up and forgot to let her sleep,” Edward said, sheepish. “For awhile. It’s been nonstop crisis. We kinda… kinda fucked that one up.”

Rose made a face. What was going on out there? The couple listened to the shower.

“Is she staying here?” Rose said, eventually.

“Uhhhh… I mean, I was going to let her sleep on the couch tonight,” Edward said. He looked upset. Rose licked her lips. Easy cure for that. “Just tell her to sleep until tomorrow.” They’d been experimenting with that. One of Edward’s girl hacks. It worked disturbingly well. She’d been told to wake up in seven hours, thirty-six minutes, and her eyes had snapped open right before the test alarm went off.

Rose knelt. It was such an easy motion for her. It was becoming automatic whenever Edward was stressed out, which was all the time. Sometimes she wondered how many blowjobs were in her future. Thousands? Edward never talked easy anymore about some sort of cure coming down the pipeline. He rarely talked about the world with her at all. Thousands of pints of jizz in her mouth. Picture the future, it looked like Edward’s dick. She reached for his pants.

“Hey!” Edward said, sharply. Rose pulled her hand back. What? “What?” she said, confused.

“Carrie is right there! In the shower!” Edward sounded actually bothered.

“You want to wait for her to come out?”

“Don’t play dumb, Rose. Come on,” Edward backed up. He was furious. Rose had never seen him so upset. And at her. “Are you jealous or something? You don’t need to blow me because I brought a girl home to take a shower. We’re MARRIED. And she’s been awake for like thirty-six hours!”

Rose wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m a good cocksucker,” she finally settled on.

They looked at each other.

Edward broke first. He let out a very long breath. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah. I get it. A silly cocksucker, that’s you.”

Silly? Rose felt it sink into her. Wuh-oh. Was she not silly enough already?

“You have nothing to worry about. With Carrie,” his tone softened. “Okay? I know what you’re going through. You’ve been blowing my brains out and doing a really good job of it. Okay, honey? She’s just the work girl.”

“Sure, okay,” Rose said. She stood up. The shower stopped running.

Edward paused. “Oh!” he had on his studied “post-argument” voice. “I got you a present. Fresh off the presses. The first in the brand new Harlequin line. Girl-only books!”

He had them in his bag. Pink covers, floral art. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, Women’s Edition, by Jane Austen. Edward tossed them on the bed, thought better of it, and started making the bed. Rose watched him. That was HER chore.

“They scrubbed out the men!” Edward said. “So its all sapphic stuff. Ms. Darcy, you know? A single woman in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Like that. Government-certified safe. Books! And a Tom Clancy one too, I guess they picked it because there aren’t any romances so its easy to swap? Enjoy.”

She hadn’t read a book, or really anything, in some weeks. Rose gingerly picked one up just as Carrie, wrapped in a towel, walked into the bedroom. This time Rose didn’t really notice her. She’d been told not to worry about with Carrie, after all.

A book! True, she’d spent a lot of time wishing she could just pick something up to read without getting inadvertently ordered to shoot up a stadium. But now….

Did silly cocksuckers read books?

April 27th

“Ready for inspection!” Rose called out.

She was aware of how… not-partnery… inspections were. Kinda slave-y. But getting fondled was really fun.

It had started more or less innocently. A post-jog weigh-in, with Edward. She’d had plenty of pounds to drop, so each day showed firm improvement, and Edward had graphed it out on Excel. A steadily decreasing line for both of them.

Then he had suggested she didn’t need to wear quite so many clothes while weighing-in. And then he had pointed out, gently, that the weigh-in thing was not exactly feminist and maybe they should discontinue, especially because it wasn’t like she needed the motivation. Motivation was never a problem.

“Aw, it’s fun,” she had mock-complained, about the max she could do. Edward had cast around for a solution, and spotted some of her new clothes, still in their brown cardboard boxes. The rest of the world was spasming, but cheap and sexy girl clothes were now incredibly important, and they were still available.

“Why don’t you show me your new clothes, instead?” he’d suggested.

Edward himself had lost well over twenty pounds, and looked great. He’d told her that she was doing a good job sucking it out of his cock, not to mention intense cardiovascular workouts whenever he wanted. His jawline had fleshed out, and if he had dark bags under his eyes from too much work, they were easily categorized as ‘distinguished.’ Rose hadn’t told him how much it meant to her that he was Important. An important man. Her man. Her pussy tingled at the thought.

“Do you like?” Rose said, always a little nervous. Rose hadn’t worn a cocktail dress her entire life. She hadn’t gone to those kinds of parties, hadn’t had that kind of body. And she’d still needed to pour herself into the blue bandage dress. It was cheap as shit, and she could hear threads creaking, but that was fine. It just had to last one night, ultimately.

“Beautiful,” Edward pronounced. He’d gotten used to plunking down in his favorite chair, after long work days, and letting Rose handle him. Dinner was always ready, followed by a restful fuck where she slowly squeezed his dick. On top. Then she’d pretend to read next to him. “Come here, let see.”

“Smoother than ever,” Rose said, proudly. “The new razor is the best. The. best.” She backed up onto Edward’s palm. He was always generous with his fingers, during inspections. A careful evaluation of her ass, checking every bit of her for uniform smoothness, and then snaking around to tease her slit.

“Underpants? I guess this is a night out,” Edward said.

“I’m not ruining their chairs,” Rose said. He pressed his fingers into her. Rose sighed, happily. Her husband.

“Eh, they’ll probably have doilies down. Or something. There’s gonna be all kinds of etiquette issues tonight, I’m looking forward to it. Whup, you missed a spot.”

Rose stood up from where she was half-bent over her husband. She looked down, anxious. Edward laughed. “I’m kidding, that’s impossible. You’re perfect, babe. Come on, lets go.”

“You don’t want to get off first?” Rose said. “Usually it relaxes you?” She was hoping to fuck him pre-dinner party. First because, well, she was horny. And second because Edward was more relaxed, predictable, after unloading in her.

“Eh, we’re late,” Edward shrugged. The old fear crept up—this was it, he was fucking around at work—but Rose forced it down. Carrie had, just as promised, slept for a day and a half and then been bundled back to the office. There was no need to be concerned. And besides, she was just a silly cocksucker.

“No way,” Edward said. “Impossible.”

David and Edward sat together on the second floor patio, dressed in linen shirts, and with margaritas next to them. With salt rims. Lauren had met them at the door with drinks.

“Oh, I think it works,” David assured him. He also looked good. Ownership seemed to agree with most men. “Lauren, what do you think?”

Lauren had gone full housewife since they’d last talked. Heir hair was an ashy blonde and rippled in smooth curls. Her face was a neat porcelain mask. She wore the same red lipstick as Rose. And a flared blue dress with a wide red belt.

“At least one cup size, maybe two,” Lauren reported.

“I still refuse to believe. Not possible. If I told Rose to speak Spanish she couldn’t do it. Or grow an arm. I can’t look her in the eyes and make her get bigger tits.”

Rose felt a little self-conscious. Hers were just a bit smaller, what with the weight loss. Nice big boobs had always been her big selling point. Edward had never complained about the reduction. He probably hadn’t even noticed, seeing as how she usually attacked with her mouth. But now he sipped thoughtfully from his drink.

“Give it a shot,” David said. “What’s the harm?”

Edward turned to her. He made unsubtle eye contact. Usually his orders were delivered in a quick monotone. Getting it over with. This one was delivered firmly and slowly.

“Rose, grow bigger boobs.”

Rose swallowed. She looked down. The entire dinner party laughed. “Worth a look,” Rose said, passing it off. She’d never been ordered around in public before. Ordered to get big titties. Alright, her endocrine system could handle that one. She didn’t have to actually DO anything.

“But you are girl hacking, right?” David pressed.

“Just little stuff. Some of the stuff the guys are doing... “ Edward shook his head. “No. Pass. Women aren’t… some of the stuff is messed up. These aren’t science experiments.”

David waved dismissively. “You should see the girls outside. Everyone around here is an engineer or something, you know? They are up to some insane shit. It’s something. Total personality rewrites, that kind of thing. Wild.”

Finally Edward’s habitual frown returned. It was a mild relief to Rose. “Although that seems pretty messed up,” David added, eventually. He put his hand out for Lauren to refill his drink. She’d hovered, unobtrusive, with the pitcher of margaritas in hand. Very, very still. Rose wasn’t sure if silly cocksuckers like her were supposed to notice those kinds of things.

“Lets go inside,” David said. “Dinner is going to be fantastic.”

It was fantastic, because they had a chef.

“Oh, this is Heather,” David was carefully casual about it. “Lauren’s sister.”

Heather was similarly dressed and similarly blonde and similarly poised. The only differences were that she was a little younger, and her forehead was masked with sweat from working over the stove. The first course was already on the table. Butternut squash soup.

Lauren didn’t sit down until David gave her a barely noticeable nod. Heather didn’t sit down at all.

“She’s new,” Edward noted. His usual complaints seemed masked by the soup. It was superb.

“Yeah, I know we said it was greedy, but Heather was in a tough situation upstate without a boyfriend, and was kind of trapped, so the family decided it’d be better if I just took her in. They all love me now, its funny. I was total black sheep before. Heather’s a doctor.”

A doctor? The doctor stirred a big pot in a nice red dress and matching apron.

“Lauren, what do you think?” Rose said.

Both of the boys gave her an odd look. Rose blushed, immediately. Right, of course. A stupid girl question. She’d think what was appropriate for her to think.

A good host, Lauren saved her. “Not gonna deny that it was an ADJUSTMENT,” she said, winking. David laughed. Edward did too. Rose joined in eventually. “I mean I said go for it immediately, but I still needed some commandments to get around the bedroom awkwardness, that kind of thing.”

“Same time?” Edward murmured, raising an eyebrow.

“It seemed weirder otherwise!” David protested. The second course arrived. Pasta in a light cream sauce. Rose decided not to do more then get a taste. She was watching her figure. Possibly she was about to watch it grow huge tits. “It’s actually a tricky set of orders,” David added. “You get odd results if you simply tell them to go after each other. The trick is that its hot for the other girl to get me off, you following me? It has to run through the man or its not as effective.”

Edward seemed to consider that. “This is incredibly good,” he declared. “Rose, can you get some pointers?”

“It’s hard to be both a silly cocksucker AND a world-class chef,” Rose joked.

There was a pause in the conversation. David grinned at her, indulgent. She recognized her mistake moments later. She’d contradicted her husband, in front of another man. It was useless to tell herself he wanted it, he liked Rose the fun, casual girl.

“But I can try,” she added, limply. The oven door slammed shut, and she flinched.

“Great,” Edward said, sealing it in stone.

Rose picked at dinner. It really was a challenge to be a silly cocksucker and anything that wasn’t a silly cocksucker. She hadn’t wanted to concern Edward with it, or seem like she was ungrateful, but reading his bowlderized all-female romance novels was such a chore. Much more fun to plan out outfits, or mindlessly masturbate, or figure out more chores she could do.

At least becoming a world-class chef would be a good use of time.

Rose zoned out while the boys talked shop. So much of the stuff they discussed just wasn’t very interesting. World affairs, tedious, network architecture, deeply tedious. Some war somewhere, whatever. Although it was funny that important leaders had gotten into the habit of yelling something like :any girl assassins, please come out and drop all weapons,” after a concerning incident somewhere in Europe.

Lauren was no longer interested in making conversation with Rose. Actually—Rose focused—it wasn’t clear if Lauren was interested in anything that wasn’t her husband, and perhaps Heather. They both watched him closely, in any spare moment not involving chores. No doubt they both carefully shared blowjob duties, working in close concert, nearly identical mouths stroking and sucking…

David picked up on it first. “Rose, go ahead and go to the bedroom with Heather or Lauren, if you like,” he said, grandly. Rose flinched. Was it really that obvious? But of course, her hand had wandered between her legs. April would laugh.

This, at least, wasn’t a social miscue. Girls being uncontrollably horny was normal. Rose looked down. There was, in fact, a doilie underneath her. And good thing. Edward laughed. “It’s my fault,” he said, fondly. And maybe a little insecure at just having one devoted girl? Rose wondered. “She told me to take care of business before we left.”

“I’m fine! Just a little daydreaming!” Rose protested. She blushed again. Well, it turned out it was still embarrassing, that was nice.

“I’d say she could be dessert,” David paused. “But actual dessert, frankly, is gonna be a lot better than just another blowjob.”

Edward nodded.

May 22nd

Rose resented her nice big tits.

They were just purely ridiculous. Sure, it was undeniable that some pretty crazy changes had been made to her overall mental architecture. Edward said there was evidence of itty-bitty machines involved, or something like that. Irreversible blah blah blah, she didn’t really pay attention. But the very idea that a man could look her in the eyes, and ORDER her body to produce huge fat boobies for him to play with, and for it to actually do it—come on.

She was two cup sizes larger and they were still growing.

True, Edward was enchanted with them, and that was what mattered. She’d given him a leisurely titfuck and he’d given her one of those happy sighs that were her greatest reward. Outside of actually cumming.

“Come on my tits, daddy,” she’d told him, her voice husky. True, she hadn’t resented them then, watching his cock thrust through her slick skin. Her nipples were much more sensitive, to boot. “Fuck the big titties you gave me, Daddy. Come all over me, lots of nice cum.” And boy, had he.

But she could feel the strain on her back. Plus none of her bras fit properly, which meant she had to squeeze into an athletic bra that barely fit, and which she was already jogging in.

Maybe it was because Edward spent more time squeezing and stroking them then he did talking to her. He’d been promoted at work—well, most everyone else had quit or rarely showed up. He’d get home at seven or eight, fuck her mouth or her tits, eat the dinner she had so carefully prepared, and then fall asleep a half-hour later. It wasn’t very engaging.

On the other hand, she was just a silly girl. And it wasn’t like she followed current events, or would’ve if she could’ve. Facts were facts—the silly girl in the mirror with the thick cushy tits, her face thoroughly made up, her pussy wet, wasn’t much of a conversationalist. She wasn’t April-level dumb, but the books Edward had brought home were getting a little dusty. They just seemed so pointless.

On the plus side, they’d finally gotten TV for girls worked out. There were four channels. One was female pop vocalists, reviewed and scrubbed of male backups. The second, happily, was cooking shows. And the other two were porno, porno, porno.

Rose had learned a ton from three of the four. It was a huge relief to learn she’d been giving porn-quality blowjobs. And when she got tired of rubbing herself, it was time to pick up cooking tricks. The next month of meals was planned out, although writing shit down had given her a headache. And they were going to actually go to the supermarket together, over the weekend. Rose was thrilled. She loved to wear her collar out.

Her husband texted that he was on her way home. They weren’t texting a ton, although Rose made sure to send good pussy shots for mid-day inspections, or let him know that new clothes had arrived. The postmen worked in pairs now, to keep each other honest, she supposed. For today she’d gone with a simple pair of khakis, with a deliberate wet stain on the front. Daddy liked to see her horny. Rose freshened up her lipstick, adjusted her annoying boobs in the pink tank, and knelt behind the door.

“Rose, you don’t have to kneel there, you know that,” Edward said. His own weight loss had stopped under the influence of Rose’s increasing cooking skills. And long hours. Her husband looked exhausted. He had sweat stains underneath his shirt pits.

“No welcome-home blowie?” Rose said, disappointed. That was another thing, a silly world-class cocksucker should really be sucking cock. It was in the job description.

“I can barely move,” Edward said. “Everything is a mess and I might end up going out in the field to patch wires. That’s where things are at. What’s for dinner?”

“Morrocan-inspired lamb,” Rose said, promptly. It was all ready. Dessert was panna cotta.

“Thank goodness,” Edward said. “Good girl.”

That felt good. But not as good as a blowjob. Rose fidgeted.

“After dinner, do you want to… play scrabble?” She’d found the box while cleaning dust in the closet. It’d brought back a lot of memories. She knew she was just a silly cocksucker.. But… they used to play all the time. She’d worked hard to say something about it.

“After dinner I have a hundred and five e-mails to respond to,” Edward said. He settled into his seat, and gave her a look. Her tits bouncing around, her hair in the double braid he liked, her makeup. “Rose, can you even PLAY scrabble?”

She fidgeted. Rose was no longer sure.

May 25th

Another boring-ass day. Until April rang the doorbell.

She looked her usual perky, ditzy self at the door. Makeup as perfect as Rose’s. A brief jean skirt paired with a loose white shirt, so casual for her. No bra or anything. That made two of them.

“Hey! Rose! Can I come in for a second? I got a little problem I was hoping you could maybe help me with?”

It was almost definitely batteries. April owned a number of toys, they were all battery-operated, and she had a hard time mustering up the brainpower to swap them out. Rose was nearly out of stock herself, mostly from being neighborly. It would’ve been nice if her neighbor shared.

“I don’t have any Triple-As left,” Rose said. “So the Big Banger is going to wait. I know the stores are all out, sorry. I have some nine volts, though.” She’d been watching a cooking show and getting off. Rose kept finding herself stroking herself during the cooking and taking attentive notes during the porn.

Edward had already been gone to work when she woke up. He hadn’t fucked her in two days. It was…. worrying.

“Yeah, see, its not that. My husband? You know? He kinda died.”

“Sorry?” Rose said.

Missy was sniffing at the body. There was no need to assess the corpse. Definitely dead. Splayed face-down on the tile, dead.

Rose felt… nothing? Weird. It felt odd to look at a man, and not want to basically serve him at some level. Apparently he wasn’t a man anymore. The strangest loophole?

“I’m so sorry, April,” she said. April was still wringing her hands. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Rose hadn’t been sure what to expect of April’s house. She’d imagined fuck swings hanging from the ceiling, leather restraints on every piece of furniture, large plastic objects screwed in to the wall, perhaps a bunch of dildos.

But no, it was just 80s-era decor, with a dead man on the ground. He was fully-clothed, at least. Rose looked at his greying hair. Something was coming back to her.

“Hey, spin for me,” the man said. Missy barked around his feet. Rose complied instantly. It was too hard to tell herself—Edward wouldn’t like this. This man was right there. This man put his hand on her ass, dug around. “Okay, back to the front.” And then he was assessing her boobs. Squeezed them together.

“Is this a good idea?” Rose managed, watching him handle her nipples. She had an instant headache from saying it.

The man laughed. “I guess its not very neighborly, is it? Alright, good point. No need to tell your husband about this. Actually, forget it entirely.”

Well. This man had felt her up when they first met. Rose felt mild bile rise up. Gross.

But that still left April, who was starting to tear up. “Did all his commands to you… go away?” Rose said, gently.

“Not precisely,” April said, slowly. That was already a sign. Yesterday, there was no way April was saying “precisely.” Or any three-syllable word. “But… I mean… this is gonna sound weird…. But I still kind of want to fuck him.”

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah, I know. I… I need a MAN,” April said. “I think. Right? Don’t I?”

“Let me call Edward,” Rose said. She pulled out her phone, took a picture, sent it to her husband. Then tried to text him. Straight to voicemail. “I think he has his phone off. Ugh.”

“What do we do?” April said. It was really hitting her. The tears had picked up.

The answer had been drilled into Rose relentlessly. What did she do in an emergency? Get to Edward. She had to get to Edward. She HAD to. It was like a vise around her head.

“Do you have his car keys?” she said.

Driving was pretty fun.

There weren’t many cars on the road at all, especially it being the middle of the day. Men driving about doing men things. And it was a delicious, naughty thrill to realize that for all the orders she’d been given, the many many many orders to be a simple daddy-fucking girl, not a single one said “DO NOT DRIVE”.

“Hey, this is great,” she said. Rose glanced at her passenger. Both of April’s immaculate cheeks were streaked with tears. “Oh.” They’d brought Missy the dog, who was also enjoying the drive, her nose up against the glass.

She wasn’t breaking any laws. Actually, Rose figured she was being a good and careful driver. She had both windows up and classical music blaring on the radio, to prevent any inadvertent orders. There weren’t any ads up that could be construed as male commands.

“Do you think the Burger King ads will, you know, we’ll feel them?” she said. “Sorry. Sorry again.” Rose hit the gas as the light changed. “Wooo!”

April rubbed her cheeks. “Gosh, I’m so sad. I mean, he was an asshole! Oh it feels weird to say that. But he was! I’m an aeronautics engineer! I made more money then he did! Right away he looked me in the eye and said, April, baby, you’re good for one thing, but the good news is, you’re great at it. Immediate. Not like, easing into it like you.”

“What about me?” Rose said.

April looked at her with newly calculating eyes. “Nothing,” she said.

“Yeah you need to have really good communication in these sort of master-slave marriages,” Rose said, eventually “You’ll like Edward though.”

“Like him… as what?”

Oops, what was her intention? Temporary master? Rose realized she hadn’t thought any of this through. The blare of EMERGENCY kept hitting her. “Do you know someone?” she said, hesitating. “Some guy I should call? Or Edward can call?”

“No!” April said, shaking her head. She put her forehead in her hands. “Why do I want one? Look, can your husband take care of the body? Maybe I’ll hide out while the men are taking him out? Then I can just do grocery delivery from his bank account.”

Worked for Rose. A man in the car next to them did a startled double-take at two women driving around unsupervised. He motioned for her to roll down the window. Rose gritted her teeth, shook her head. No. Edward would not want her to. Edward would want her there in an emergency. She could do this.

“Oh, shoot,” April said. “I passed a Carls Jr ad. I kinda want burgers now. Hmm. Alright. Much to think about.” she laughed. “Thinking!”

There, Edward’s building. He was close by, lucky her. Although it made it more of a mystery why he was doing dinner at the office.

It was dark and cold and half-empty inside. There was no one at the receptionist desk. No one intercepted them at the elevator. Edward, she knew, was down in the basement.

“Ooh, spooky,” April said, when the door slid open.

There were just a few florescent lights burning, and almost no noise at all. The concrete floor was heavy with dense cabling, little of it in a straight line. Just brightly colored wires in semi-neat coils, thick and petite, with small paths between them. It was dank-cold. The servers were just visible beyond frosted glass.

“Edward?” Rose called out. She walked in, April trailing back. Edward was a manager now. The head of the entire dark floor. It wasn’t clear, thinking about it, if he had a staff. Everyone had quit. There were plenty of jobs that didn’t involve late hours, wrangling collapsing infrastructure. Or just stay at home and fuck girls.

There was a tinny, panting noise from where she didn’t want to hear it. Behind the closed door reading ‘VICE-PRESIDENT.’

Edward had to be in there. Of course he was in there. Rose couldn’t stop herself. She had to find him. She opened the heavy door to see her husband absolutely fucking the heck out of Carrie’s ass.

“Ow,” Rose said. “Ow.”

She wasn’t sure how to feel about being spanked.

Edward, her husband, had cursed a heavy streak as soon as she had opened the door, his dick flopping out of Carrie’s butt, already going limp. She supposed it was good he was embarrassed. He had the option to glance at her and say “lick”, and hadn’t. So that was good. She supposed.

On the other hand, his white hot anger didn’t feel very good at all. True, Edward had handled everything efficiently. He had called a non-emergency number for the city health authorities, who had hauled away April’s husband with no complaint at all. Apparently a ton of men were suffering from heart failure. Banging themselves to death. April had watched them go, smiled and waved, and then slammed the door shut. And locked it. Well, she could make her own decisions.

After that, Edward had sat down in his chair, and looked right at her, and told her to bend over his lap.

She’d done it, and then found the energy to ask “why?”

He’d given her a few commanding smacks on the rear first. Each one was like a little short-circuit in her head. A mixture of pleasure and cringing and all sorts of emotions. After all, it was transparently ridiculous. He could just tell her what to do. Punishment was pointless.

His hand rested on her butt. He’d had her strip from the waist down. “The girl hacks explained that if orders aren’t taking, you need to put more authority into them,” he said. “There’s a lot that goes into which male command wins out but it’s mostly the alpha male. Deepest voice.” WHAP. “Most important job.” WHAP. “But in a pinch you can just spank her and she’ll do whatever you say.”

Rose supposed that made sense. She was feeling extremely attentive. Although she couldn’t stop thinking about her husband putting the wood to Carrie, even though she’d been told not to care.

“So this is to tell you not to get into a dead stranger’s car and drive it to my workplace during daylight hours.”

And driving had been so much fun.

“Do you spank Carrie too?” Rose said. Oof, instant headache. It was only possible to say in the neural panic getting spanked apparently induced. All of her felt scrambled. She could sense Edward’s hand way up in the air. It paused, then rested quietly on her rear.

“No,” Edward said.

“That asshole felt me up and told me to forget about it. Like a month ago. Turns out orders fall out when the guy dies,” Rose said. There, she had felt awful holding that one in, too.

They were quiet for a long time. Edward stroking her butt.

“Okay, all done,” Edward said. Rose rubbed her sore butt. She was gonna sleep on her big new tits tonight.

“Master?” she said.

She’d never called him master since day one. He winced at it. “What?”

“Now what?”

“I don’t fucking know, okay!” Edward said. He waved his arms around, still seated. “I don’t know! I’m just figuring all this shit out! Every day! It’s extremely difficult! I’m sorry you got felt up!”

Poor Edward. They say quietly next to each other.

“Can you take me off silly, Daddy?” Rose said. “It’ll make it easier to think.”

“What? I didn’t…” Edward caught himself, sighed. “Ah, hell. Right. Okay. You’re extremely, extremely intelligent. Very smart.”

Ahhh, that felt… actually, not better. Different. But it was nice to be interested in literacy again. “Take it all off, maybe?” Rose said. “No orders at all. No, wait. Do it for like ten minutes, that will make it easy. See? Clever!”

“No male orders for ten minutes,” Edward said, wearily. He watched her.

“Good,” Rose considered.

She didn’t feel very different. The truth was, it probably didn’t work. He’d ordered her around too many times. It was written deep inside of her. There was no getting away from it. Oh well. “First of all, you’re too tense to make decisions. Lets take care of your balls.”

Rose was about to get onto her knees, paused. “Actually, your dick was in her butt. So this is going to be a handjob. Probably your last handjob EVER.”

It was obviously the right move. Edward relaxed as soon as she started to very slowly jack him off. This was the first thing they’d done, right? A handjob? Awkward, dry handjob, after the fourth date? That was a long time ago.

“Carrie comes to live with us, so she doesn’t need to live in a gross basement,” Rose said. “And you tell us we both want to make you happy. And we’ll see how that goes.”

“Okay,” Edward said.

“And I can be your cocksucker,” Rose considered. “SLIGHTLY silly. And Carrie will be backup cocksucker.” she put emphasis on backup.

“Sounds… ahh…. Good,” her husband said.

Rose climbed aboard Edward’s dick. Perhaps a UTI situation in the future, but it felt right. “And we’ll hang out with you at the office and I can help you do IT stuff too. And we’ll both cook and stuff. Sound good? I only want this if it’ll make you happy.”

“Sounds good,” he started to move his hips. Rose put her hand on his chest. They were both very close. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“It’ll make us happy,” Rose said. He buried into the hilt, all the way in. His hands found her tits.

“Mmm. That feels good. Now.”

“Cum in me, Daddy.”