The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“These are the strangest outlets,” Val said, running her index finger around the beige plastic. She took a sip from the wine glass she held in her other hand.

Val was the dyke next door; it was Sunday night, and she’d come over for dinner to the apartment Kendra and I shared. Dinner and drinks; we were well into the latter part of the evening.

She didn’t actually live next door, the Krafts did; Val lived up one floor and down the hall. She was a dyke though. A drunk dyke, at this point.

“Yeah,” Kendra agreed, coming in from the kitchen, having refilled her own glass. “I asked the building manager about them when we moved in and he said that they were some newfangled outlet design that the owners wanted but that hasn’t really taken off yet.”

Val nodded. “Yeah, he said the same to me. Never seen any plugs for them though.”

The outlet in question was the size of a normal power plug, but instead of two or three prong holes it had a circle of twelve little round holes set inside a shallow circle where whatever newfangled plug that fit the thing would seat itself.

“I’ve never seen anything with a plug like that,” I observed. “Maybe Otto would know.”

Val turned from the wall to arch a dark eyebrow at me. “Otto?” she said. “You’d like to talk to Otto, eh? ‘Oh, Otto, please help me understand technology!’”

Only one way to deal with that sort of implication. “Oh, yeah,” I replied, “I’d like to get his opinion on wall outlets while I’m fucking his brains out. Hell, I’m going to go right now. What apartment is he in again?”

Val blinked, and I won. Kendra laughed. “She’s just trying to out-naughty you, Val. Otto’s not her type.”

I turned myself on her. “But he is your type, isn’t he, Kay?”

She shrugged. “Not really. He’s cute, but I’d rather do Alan from downstairs. As long as we’re restricting ourselves to people who live in the building. If not, you’ll have to peel me off of Matthew McConaughey.”

“We’ve already discussed that. You’ll have to timeshare him.” I licked my lips—I was definitely drunk. Hell with it. “But let’s stick to the neighbors. You’d really do Alan?”

“If it were consequenceless, sure,” Kendra said. “He’s cute, and I like solid guys. I see him in the gym sometimes, and he’s like a fireplug with muscles.” She raised her glass hand and unfurled a finger into a point. “Val, who would you do?”

Val looked a little sheepish. “Uh,” she said. “I don’t think...”

“Come on,” Kendra demanded. “There’s gotta be someone in the building you’d shag if it wouldn’t come back to haunt you.”

She looked down at the floor, then up at me. “I’d, uh, I’d like to... Brianna.” Her blue eyes were guilty under her dark eyebrows.

She was drunk. We all were.

I stood up, only a little wobbly, and kissed her on the forehead. “Val,” I said, “that’s sweet. But you’re not really trying to proposition me, are you?”

“A little,” she said. “Maybe.” I looked down sternly at her. “... no.”

“And why is that?”

“Maggie.”

“That’s right. You have a girlfriend. And if you got it on with me while she was in Europe, she’d be really hurt. And you don’t want to hurt Maggie, do you?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.” I sat down again. “But as long as you’re just playing make-believe, it’s all good.” I took a drink. “You know who I’d fuck, once, for fun? The Wongs.”

Kendra almost lost her mouthful of chardonnay down her chin. “The Wongs? But they’re like fifty years old.”

“So? I think it would be fun. In a bed with both of them. I think they’re cute. I’d like to see how they got it on.”

“Geez, Bree, you’d do anything that moves.”

“That’s not very complimentary to the Wongs.”

“I’d might fuck Mrs. Wong,” Val added. “I mean, to find out.”

“To find out what?”

“Never been with a middle aged Asian woman,” she mumbled. “And her cooking smells great.”

Val was looking decidedly crooked at this point, and I didn’t know how much of that was her intoxicated leaning and how much was my not-all-that-tight visual grip on reality. It was time to put this party to bed. I set my glass down.

“Girls,” I said, “I have to go to work tomorrow. I think it’s time to bring our little soiree to a close.”

Kendra had obviously been thinking the same. “Val, you want us to walk you back?”

Val shook her head and stood up. Slowly. “I’m okay,” she said. “It’s just upstairs. Thanks for the invite.” She didn’t look too wobbly.

I walked her to the door; behind me, Kendra started clearing the dishes.

“I’m sorry,” Val said, turning in the doorway so suddenly I almost ran into her. “Didn’t mean to—”

I put a finger on her lips. “It’s fine,” I replied. “I’m flattered. When Maggie gets back, we can pitch the idea to her.”

She smiled, though her eyes told me that Maggie was much too possessive for threesomes. I kissed her goodnight—perhaps I am wicked after all—and watched her walk down the hall. Not too unsteady. I closed the door.

“I like her,” Kendra said.

I walked back to the kitchen and helped unload the dishwasher. “Me too. You think we were too much for her?”

“She just got a little drunk.” Kendra gave me a raised eyebrow. “Would you sleep with her if she was single?”

I gave it a thought. “Yeah, maybe. I like her hair. Most lesbians cut it that short to look like boys, but on her it’s feminine. And she’s sweet in a sort of hapless way.”

“You think it’ll last?”

“With Maggie? Doubt it. Don’t know her very well though.”

Kendra started to load up the now empty dishwasher with the collected glasses and plates. “So, you’re working tomorrow?”

“Of course. Why?”

“The cable guy called and said he’d come by in the morning.”

“The cable guy? You ordered cable?”

She stopped in mid-load. “No... I thought you did.”

“Teevee is the work of the devil,” I replied.

Kendra frowned. “Then he must have the wrong apartment.”

“So go to work.”

“I’d already asked Marc for the morning off.”

“So sleep in.”

“Now that,” she said, closing the dishwasher and spinning the dial, “is a fantastic idea.”

Fucking clients.

I work in the marketing department of the Hanran & Spitz agency; apparently it’s company policy to always wait until four p.m. to let me know that such and such a client didn’t like the marketing plan we devised for them and could we please update it like so—no don’t call it a complete overhaul—and could we have that done today? Please?

It’s a good job, I tell myself. I like the work. I get to be creative. I get to manage staff; I’m on my way up the corporate ladder.

If it only weren’t for the fucking stupid clients.

So it was almost eleven when I got back to the Maurier. That’s our apartment building. It had another name but they refurbished it two years ago and rechristened the place.

Kendra had just landed a job and I was looking to get out of the place I’d been living in since college, so we teamed up and rented a double. For a building whose interior was, for all practical purposes, brand new, we got quite a deal.

Not that I got to spend much time in my shiny new apartment. Stupid mother-fucking clients.

I punched in the door code. Maurier apartments don’t have locks, they have codes. In my purse I still had the little sticky note I’d written the combo down on the first day. Kendra never bothered, she had it memorized the first time she heard it. Anyway, there was a guard on duty downstairs twenty-four seven, and he could open the door for you if you forgot how.

Kendra would be home, of course. I opened the door. “Kendra, I’m home.”

No response for a moment, though the lights were on. Then I heard a moan from the back, in the direction of Kendra’s room.

It almost sounded... whatever. I closed the door and put my bag down on the couch. A little snack, a little Jon Stewart, and then it was bedtime.

Kendra moaned again.

Erotically.

I want to state that although I was attracted to Kendra—her cute nose, her freckles, her thick sandy blonde hair in that shoulder-length surfer cut—I’d never tried to pull her. For one thing, I knew that she was strictly het. I’d overcome that before, but second and more importantly, I didn’t sleep with housemates.

Which was one of the few drawbacks of living with her.

She moaned again. Had she brought home a man? Why didn’t I hear him? I looked down the hall.

Her door was open!

Maybe she was having an erotic dream. Came home, fell asleep, was now tangled up in the sheets with her pillow between her thighs, humping it. Maybe I could go have a peek and see her long strong legs twitching as her phantom lover... and then I’d close the door. No harm done.

I snuck down the short hall to her open bedroom door.

She wasn’t sleeping.

She was on the floor on the far side of the bed, looking at me.

She smiled.

She was naked, kneeling on the carpet. Her hands were pulling at her breasts; her pelvis was grinding, slowly pushing forward and back against something I could not see behind the bed. She was flushed, smiling widely, grinning at me.

There was a grey cord wrapped loosely around her, a couple of long smooth lengths looping around her neck and dangling against her belly. The power cord for whatever sex toy she was riding.

“Hi, Bree,” she purred.

I swallowed, realized I’d been staring. “Oh, uh,” I said, turning and reaching for the doorknob with my hand.

“Don’t go,” she said. “Stay.”

I looked at her again.

She was holding out her hands to me now. Her breasts were red, teased, the pale nipples flushed and swollen atop their smooth cones.

“Come play with me,” she said.

I tried to smile. “Not- I don’t—”

“Pleeeeease?” she asked. She stood up, and my eyes went to her crotch as she did so and I saw her lips, wet and swollen, closing slowly, deprived of whatever had been stuffed between them. She caught me looking and turned her hips out, showing herself to me. “I know you want to. Come on, touch me. Taste me. I want to be all yours.”

The cord was still hanging in loose coils around her neck, dangling over her breasts and belly. She started to walk towards me, around the edge of the bed, and I realized that it wasn’t attached to the toy she had been riding. It ran from the wall, up over her shoulder, looped around her neck a few times, and then ran up...

...to her head.

To the back of her head.

It was plugged into her head.

I could see now that the end of the cord was plugged into the back of her head; her hair wasn’t long enough to hide it. The cord stuck directly out several inches before drooping into the loops that were draped around her approaching body.

“Holy fuck,” I breathed.

Kendra stopped. “What?” she asked. Then she saw what I was looking at, and smiled again. “Oh, that. Don’t worry about that, Bree. It’s just my cord. Don’t you think it’s sexy?”

“Your cord?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She was standing there, a few feet away, her body flushed and perspiring and so fucking hot... and she turned her head and lifted her hair and showed it to me. “My cord... and my plug. I’m plugged in. Turned on. Sooooo turned on...” Her hair came down. “Come on, Bree, please fuck me. Pleasing you is central to what I am now.”

My voice was stunned. “What?”

She picked an interpretation for my question.

“I’m a sex toy,” she said.

I blinked at her.

“Please, please play with me,” she said, her eyes turning liquid. “I really need to be loved. Fucked. It’s what I’m all about. What I’m for.” She held out her hands.

I forced myself to be calm and not just step forward and rub myself all over her. “Kendra. What the hell is going on?”

Her face went from coy entreaty back to satisfied grin. “I’m a toy,” she repeated, like one would educate a child. “A sex toy.” She reached up, lifted her hair, turned her back to me and looked over her shoulder. With her other hand, she took hold of the slack cord and pulled lightly until it was taut all the way to the wall socket. “See? I plug into the wall. I’m electric. I’m a toy. Please fuck me.”

If it was fake, it was a good one. It looked just like the grey plastic plug went right into the back of her skull.

Kendra turned around again. “Mmm. You don’t want a toy? I don’t have to be a toy. We’re grownups. Maybe I’m not a toy after all. Maybe I’m an appliance.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Ooh, yes, I like that. I’m an appliance. An electric tool.” One hand began to pull at a breast, the other reached behind herself and slid its fingers up into her snatch as she hunkered down onto it.

“Please use me,” she asked, though her eyes had slid from me and were gazing into space. “I’m an appliance. I’m a fucking home appliance.”

She giggled. “A home fucking appliance.”

She was masturbating so that I could watch, I realized, her hand not Reaching straight down between her legs but curling up around from behind, showing me her slit as her fingers plunged and flexed in her hole.

And, freaked out though I was, it was making me incredibly horny.

I forced myself to turn around and leave the room.

What the fuck?

I was on my bed, sitting Indian-style. My head was swirling.

It was a game. It had to be. That couldn’t have been a plug in her head.

But that wasn’t... Kendra wasn’t like that.

What the fuck?

And what was I going to do?

I rocked back and forth.

I wanted to fuck her. I have to admit. I wanted to run back in there and tear off my clothes and be part of whatever fucked-up fantasy she was having. A sex toy. God, that turned me on.

I looked at my closed door.

I slid a hand down the front of my pants.

Mmm. It was wrong, very wrong, but that’s what made it so fucking hot.

Kendra. Hot, blonde, surfer-girl Kendra. Begging me to fuck her. Frigging herself right in front of me. Showing me her cunt as her fingers slurped in and out of it.

Kendra would never...

I wanted to taste it.

I wasn’t going back in there. It was too weird, too fucking weird. And in the morning when I was thinking straight I’d have to deal with it. But with my door closed... God damn was it hot. A fucking sex appliance. What was it she’d said? A home fucking appliance.

I slid my hand out of my pants, slid my pants and panties off my legs, and went at myself full-on.

I’d moved a small bookcase in front of my door. It was stupid, and weird, but if someone had—no way—really come in and put a plug in Kendra’s head—God I’m a dupe—I didn’t want them barging in on me. Like the three-foot bookcase would have stopped them.

But no one came barging in during the night and in the morning I slid the bookcase away from the door and emerged into the hall just in time to see Kendra, dressed in a neat skirt-and-jacket ensemble, walking for the front door.

“Kendra,” I said, raising a hand.

“Gotta go to work,” she replied, turning to wink at me as she worked the door handle. Then she was gone.

Had there been a socket there? Her hair was too long to tell.

I took a shower, and brushed my teeth, and got dressed. Fetched a breakfast bar from the cupboard.

I snuck into Kendra’s room.

The sex toys were under the bed.

I found the one she had been riding, a smooth sort of half-barrel shape with an electronic dildo jutting up from its surface. Looked like fun. But there was more... a shoebox full of toys, plastic and rubber and gel, butterflies and beads and plugs and dildoes of many sizes.

Kendra used to keep her Hitachi Magic Wand, her sole sex toy, in her sock drawer.

It was still there.

Religious conversion? Fuck, I didn’t know. Maybe some weird sex cult had brainwashed her.

Maybe she plugged into the wall.

I had to go to work. Fucked up this might have been, but Kendra had gotten up and gotten dressed and gone to work, and I had to do the same.

I’d have a serious talk with her that evening.

My head wasn’t in my work, but I managed to talk the client down and enthuse them about some new directions, to the point where Terry the Dick, aka my boss, gave me an approving nod. I got to go home at six.

I’d talk to her about it. Tell her I wasn’t comfortable sleeping with the people I lived with, tell her that the whole sex toy think was kinky but that the ‘plug’ weirded me out. Find out what had so dramatically changed her attitude.

Feeling tense, I opened the door.

The living room had been rearranged, the sofa pushed back against the wall, the coffee table slid into the kitchen. Blankets were piled around.

Kendra was standing in the middle of them, wearing nothing but a silver bikini. Her head was downcast, her chin near her chest. Her hands were at her sides.

She looked up at me and smiled.

Fuck.

“Hello, Bree,” she said. “I got things ready for you. For us.”

I was shaking my head slowly.

“I was a little brusque yesterday. I’m sorry about that. I really want to make you happy. I was hoping that, maybe, I could seduce you a little? I could dance. I know you like girls in silver bikinis—I went out and bought one. And I’ve got a bottle of baby oil...”

I was going to talk to her. Find out what had happened.

Fuck it.

I was across the floor and my hand was cupping one silver breast as our mouths met.

Her surprise lasted a split second and then she was slipping her tongue into my mouth, pulling at the buttons on my shirt. I was feeling her up with my right and my left hand was wrapping around her head, pulling her mouth tighter onto mine, when I felt it.

Plastic.

I stopped for a moment but Kendra didn’t notice, kept licking my tongue and her hand was between my legs and down my pants, her fingers touching me electrically and I moaned, my knees suddenly weak.

She was tugging at my zipper, dropping to her knees and taking her breasts away from my hands and her hand off my overheated snatch, but then my pants were being tugged down and she breathed hard through my panties, licking me through my panties, and she took hold of my hips and aimed me backward toward the sofa, and then she was rolling my panties down and pushing me backward and I was on the sofa, sitting, and my panties were around one ankle and she was pushing my legs apart and then ohhhh her mouth was on me again...

I’d wanted to fuck her for a long time, so long, and it was crazy and fucked-up and a little scary and it felt so good as she slurped at my cunt and she worked her tongue up inside me and flicked it, her fingers pinching my clit, and I came all over her face and she hummed at me and sucked on my pussy lips.

Then she was crawling up onto me, before I was far enough down from my orgasm to even think about speaking, and she kissed me and I tasted myself as her tongue slid into my mouth, now, and then she was turning in place and crawling back down and then lifting her leg over me and her pussy was right there, right over my face, and so wet it glistened, and I opened up and tasted it and slid my hands around her waist to pull my face up and suck on her wet sex.

If I thought about it, I’d stop, so I didn’t think about it. I just fucked and sucked and enjoyed myself so terribly much.

I must have closed the door automatically when I came in. By the time I finally thought to look, I saw that it was closed.

Good thing; otherwise a video might have already been on the Internet.

We were snuggled in the blankets. I had a bottle of water at my left hand; we’d left wet spots all over the carpet and I was thirsty. It was dark outside.

Her body was warm and soft and even after howevermany hours we’d been at it, even with her sextaste still on my lips, I found myself wanting her again.

Kendra was lying on her side, her head on my arm. I reached over to stroke her hair and there it was.

A slick grey plastic socket.

I must have frozen suddenly. Kendra rumbled and pressed her nude back into my side.

“You can touch it,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“Touch it. Go on, Bree. I want you to touch it.”

I blinked, and gingerly reached out a finger. It didn’t shock me; it was smooth, warm plastic. I couldn’t work a fingernail under the edge even the tiniest bit, but the holes in it were at least an inch deep.

It wasn’t glued on. It wasn’t fake.

It had been installed.

Then Kendra rolled over, and her eyes were full of happiness. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “To finally fuck you. To make you happy. I just feel soooo good, Bree, you have no idea...” Her face squinched up in a cute smile and she hugged me tightly.

“Kendra,” I whispered. “How did they...?”

Still smiling, she looked up at me. “I don’t know. Don’t remember. But I’m sooo glad they did, Bree. I love being a sex toy. A Home Fucking Appliance. I feel so hot, and so good, and so free...” She hugged me again, and then took my nipple in her mouth and began to suck on it.

“Kendra,” I said, as electric sex-tingles ran through me, “it’s weird. It’s not... it’s not right.”

Her lips came off my breast slowly, and she smiled at me again. “Oh, it’s very very right, Bree. It’s wonderful.” Her eyes widened a little with a sudden idea. “Plug me in.”

“What?”

“Plug me in. Please, please—” she slid back and sat up, then leaned away from me and reached under the sofa. From underneath she pulled a slick grey cord. Her eyes were intense when they looked at me again. “Plug me in.”

She offered me the cord.

I slid up into a sitting position. “Kendra, I don’t...”

“Please?” She slid closer. “Look, it’s easy. This end plugs into my head, and this end plugs into the wall. Here,” she said, taking my hand and putting the head end of the cord into it, “try it. Please? Pretty please with pussy sugar on top?”

She was staring at me, pleading in her eyes, and I had the cord in my hand and it was wrong, it was fucking twisted, but my pussy was on fire again and I wanted to do it.

“Okay,” I said, and she smiled like a little girl on Christmas morning and turned her head around, and I put the plug up against her socket and pushed, and the prongs slid into her holes and seated themselves and she moaned happily.

“Now the other end,” she said, bouncing slightly where she sat. I swallowed and took the other end, and slid across the floor to the wall.

I found the strange wall outlet, put the plug over it, and looked at Kendra. She was looking at me like a junkie about to get her fix. I watched her as I pushed the plug in and turned it to where it clicked.

Her eyes glowed.

I don’t mean figuratively; they actually glowed for a moment, light shining out of them. I gasped and it was over; but now they were rolling back up in her head and she was moaning, in a deeper sort of pleasure than before, and I realized her hips were twitching and her breasts shaking in another orgasm.

Slowly, her eyes rolled back down; she stared at the wall for a moment, face utterly blank.

Then focus returned to her eyes and she grinned at me.

“It’s so fucking good,” she said. “So fucking good.”

I realized my arms were wrapped around my knees.

Her smile twisted naughtily, and she assumed a coy pose. “Do you want to fuck some more?”

I told her I was worn out, and fled to my room.

Val answered the door on the third knock.

“Brianna,” she said, smiling. “What a nice surprise! It’s early—do you want some coffee?”

“Hi Val,” I replied. My stomach was doing slow flips. “Uh, no coffee. I, uh, I need to talk.”

Her smile reversed. “You do? Not about Sunday night, I hope. I was drunk, and...”

I shook my head. “No, no, not about that. I think we are all fine about that. No, I... can I come in?”

She nodded, a bit relieved and a lot puzzled. I slipped in past her.

As she closed the door I looked at the back of her head. Nothing but buzzcut hair.

The apartment that Val shared with Maggie—who was not due back for another week—was much more stylish than the one I shared with Kendra. White leather sofa, glass-topped tables, paintings of geometric shapes. Very Euro. I could never have lived in it.

I sat on the white leather sofa, and rubbed my temples. Val sat down opposite me in a complicated black chair.

“What is it, Brianna?”

I had worked this conversation over in my head dozens of times and it still sounded stupid.

“Val, this is going to sound crazy, but...” I held up my hands, “someone has done something to Kendra.”

“What?”

“They... they put a socket in her. In her head.”

Val stared at me.

It sounded even stupider out loud. But I had been there, touched it, plugged her in. It was not a dream. I was not crazy.

“Like a wall socket,” I stammered. “In her head.”

“Okay,” Val said. “That sounds crazy, but okay.”

I blinked. At that moment I felt like a castaway finding a washed-up radio. Despite her Euro furniture.

“You believe me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know why you’d lie to me. It sounds crazy, but...” She shrugged again.

“Okay, look,” I said, standing up. “She’s about to leave for work. Come over and I’ll show you.”

“Okay.”

Val didn’t bother to lock her door; we hurried back to my apartment. What if Kendra had already left?

I needed someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy.

She hadn’t left, although just barely. She was in her work clothes, nice skirt and blue jacket, and she was locking the front door. We met her in the corridor.

“Kendra,” I said.

She beamed. “Hi Val! Hi Bree, what are you doing out in the hall? I thought you were in bed.”

“Kendra, I, could you show Val your socket?”

“What?”

It was totally hidden under her long blonde hair. I wasn’t crazy.

“Show her your socket. Please.”

Kendra smiled. “You’re being silly, Bree.” I blinked at her, stupidly, as she slipped past in the hall. “And I have to get to work. See you tonight!”

“But- wait—”

I should have run after her, grabbed her and flipped up her hair, but I couldn’t, not in the daytime. That would have been too nuts.

I looked at Val shamefacedly.

She shrugged. “I’ll come by tonight,” she said. “She didn’t deny it.”

I managed not to hug her.

Of course. Terry the Dick. And the Fucking Client.

It was ten when I got back to the Maurier.

I didn’t want to go home. I was afraid of Kendra.

No, I was afraid of me, alone with Kendra. Afraid that I’d just give in and accept what had been done to her. That I’d enjoy it and stop worrying about what had happened.

I went to Val’s place first.

I knocked on the door hoping she hadn’t gone to bed.

Val answered, smiling.

Wearing a wig.

I froze.

“Hi, Brianna!” she said.

It was a nice wig. Her own shade of chestnut brown. If I hadn’t seen her that morning, I wouldn’t have known it was a wig at all.

It covered her head down to the shoulders.

I fled.

Julie put me up, didn’t ask why.

I didn’t offer an explanation.

I didn’t know what to do. Who could I tell? It was crazy. Moreover, Kendra loved what had happened. Wanted it. Would deny anything was wrong. And Val...

Val...

Had they forced her? Held her down and drilled that thing into her head? Had she accepted it voluntarily? Seen how enthusiastic Kendra was? Did she allow herself to be turned into a sex toy?

Or had they seduced her?

Like Kendra was doing to me?

No. Kendra hadn’t said word one about me getting one. Hadn’t tried anything. She could have gotten me in my sleep. A little ether, some strong ropes, a call to the cable guy.

Who the fuck was behind this? Who was doing this?

Where did that cord that ultimately plugged into Kendra—and now Val—go?

Safe at Julie’s or not, I didn’t get much sleep.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Kendra.”

I was in a phone booth. I wouldn’t call them from Julie’s home.

“Bree!” There was a pause. “Bree- please come home.”

“Kendra, I—”

“I’m sorry, Bree. I’ve been stupid. I know this has to be really weird for you. I’ve just... I’ve been so centered on me. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone, I promise. I’m really truly sorry. Please come back. I don’t want to have run you off. I’ll leave you alone.”

What else could I do? To whom could I go?

And it was Kendra, for Chrissakes. She wasn’t going to hurt me.

“Please?”

“Okay, Kendra. I’ll come home.”

The door was unlocked.

The furniture was back where it belonged. The coffee table had our normal magazines on it.

Kendra was not waiting for me in a little silver bikini.

I sighed inwardly, still tense. I was wearing yesterday’s Clothes, and eager to change. My overnight hadn’t been planned enough for me to have packed.

I put my briefcase in the usual spot on the kitchen chair.

A shower was going to feel good.

At the bathroom door, I stopped.

There were soft moans coming from Kendra’s room.

More than one person.

I swallowed, closed my eyes. I should ignore it, should just take my shower and- no, I’d be naked, in the bathroom that had only a tiny window, far too small to climb out of. I ought to know who was here. Needed to know.

I didn’t just want to see Kendra naked again. Honest.

I tapped at her door.

“He- Hello?” Kendra asked.

“Kendra? It’s me—”

The door was pulled open.

It was Val.

Val, naked. Naked and covered in sweat.

With a slick grey cord plugged into the back of her head.

She grinned.

“Hi Brianna!” she said.

God she was hot. Her stiff dark nipples begged for my mouth.

Kendra was grinning too, sitting naked on the bed, her blonde-furred slit pursed neatly between her half-open legs.

Val was considering me. “Mmm, Brianna, you look so good.” She tossed her head lightly, and the grey cord whipped around in the air. “Want to join us? Please?”

My nipples were bullets and my pussy was a clenched fist, demanding that I give up and give in and dive into the pile of sweaty limbs and wet snatches that would soon re-adorn that bed. Be part of the great sex that was about to start up again.

“Nuh,” I managed. “I... no.”

Val pouted. “No?” She turned, and her ass was even better than it ever should have been, tight and smooth and brown, and I wanted it, and then she jumped onto the bed and looked over her shoulder and spread her legs.

“Come on, Val,” she crooned. “Please? Pretty please? Kendra and I are both sex-bots now—we only want to lick and suck and rub ourselves all over you forever.”

She spread her legs a little more and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees, crawl over, and wrap my mouth around her wet sex.

“Leave her alone, Val,” Kendra said. I blinked at her.

She was sitting on the bed, her legs slowly opening, and Val looked at her face only briefly before being mesmerized by her pussy. “Leave her alone. Bree isn’t comfortable with us Home Fucking Appliances. If she wants to fuck us, she knows that she can have us whenever she wants.” She looked at me. “But we mustn’t force ourselves upon her.”

Val had oozed forward and began to lap at Kendra’s snatch. Kendra moaned, and let her head droop backwards.

It was so fucking hot.

I closed the door.

I’m sure they could hear me coming as I finger-fucked myself in the shower. I didn’t care.

I got home at five-thirty. Some days are bad, some aren’t.

I’d been thinking about dinner to take my mind off the fact that there were now two sex-crazed meltingly hot women in my building eager to do my sexual bidding and I was not sleeping with them. Well, not as much as I could have been.

It was my night to cook. How strange that seemed. Kendra and I alternated cooking, back when things were normal. Last week.

Anyway. I had conjured up a nice risotto for which I thought we had the ingredients.

I’d worry about the whole sex thing after dinner.

The door was unlocked; Kendra was home. I swung it open and froze.

Kendra was naked, plugged in, on her knees. In front of the sofa.

In front of the woman sitting on the sofa.

The woman smiled at me. She was wearing a baseball cap with a logo on it and blue overalls with a red shirt underneath.

Kendra stared glassily at the sofa next to her. Her cord reached from her head, snaked across the carpet, fed into the wall.

“Evenin’,” the woman in the cap said to me. She turned to look at my kneeling housemate. “Kendra?”

Kendra blinked. She shook her head a little, looked at the woman on the sofa, and then looked over at me.

She smiled.

“Hi, Bree,” she said, standing up. “I’d like you to meet the cable girl.”

My blood went cold.

Kendra was walking towards me on bare feet. “Don’t worry, Bree, she’s just here for a checkup.”

The woman in the cap nodded at me.

“Who do you work for?” I breathed at her, managing to keep “the fuck” out of my sentence.

“The Maurier,” she said.

Kendra was next to me now, smelling like warm skin. “I’m sorry, Bree,” she said, “it was my fault. I forgot to tell them, when they installed me, that you weren’t home. I was too excited. They thought I lived alone. You can understand how I forgot to mention you. I was soooo distracted.”

I turned to look at her as she hugged me.

“But now they’ve had to make a special trip for you. The rest of the building is almost done; if they hadn’t come back to check up on this floor, you would have been overlooked.”

“Let me go,” I told Kendra, looking fearfully at the woman on the sofa. Neither she nor Kendra moved.

“You’re going to love being a sex toy,” Kendra said, and then there was a jolt, a wave of energy pulsing out of Kendra and into me, through me, taking my breath and making my head spin. Kendra’s arms clenched me tightly to her.

I sagged, and was too numb to speak, to run.

Kendra kept hold of me, and there was another jolt, and another, and I bucked and went a little limper in her arms each time.

The jolts were coming from her. Through her. From the wall.

From the Maurier.

Finally they stopped. Kendra laid me gingerly on the floor, face down. I was limp as a boiled noodle.

The cable girl stood up.

Kendra lifted up my hair.

I am a Fucking Appliance, and my life is great.

I quit my job last week. So did Kendra, and Val, and everyone in the Maurier. Even Mr. Wong.

He is as much fun to fuck as I had hoped.

Everyone is.

I especially fuck Kendra and Val and Maggie. All four of us make the sexiest pile of girlflesh when we are lying on the floor together, plugged in and sucking on each other’s bodies.

Nothing is better than being plugged in. Not even sucking on Val’s slit with Otto’s cock in my cunt and Adam’s cock in my ass, and mouths on both of my tits.

Although that’s pretty fucking wonderful.

We are all sex toys now. And sex toys need owners. So yesterday the Maurier had a sale.

We all stood outside of our apartments, our cords plugged in and taut as we leaned forward out of our doors. Waiting to be sold. The hallway lined with naked, trembling, plugged-in bodies.

I was bought by a woman, but I would be as happy had I been bought by a man. We all would be, all of us. We are sex toys. Fucking Appliances. Fuck us, and we have a reason to live.

My Owner has had me modified. My pussy now jingles with silver, as do my nipples and ears. She likes to place little silver locks on my pussy rings, and lick me as she slowly clicks them closed. I love it.

My name, Fucking Machine 25, is tattooed on my forehead.

Fucking Machine 28 lives in a box with me. We sleep together, our nipples barely touching as we hang in the straps. Our mindcords curl together down to the socket in the floor.

Fucking Machine 28 used to be called Julia.

I recommended her.