The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The day they told Ellen Wu that she qualified to become Senior Partner at her law firm, she was in total disbelief. She’d been working as hard as it was possible to work, and she’d been working this way for multiple years by that point. But still, it hadn’t made any sense to her.

To be Senior Partner was her dream— and Ellen wasn’t used to seeing her dreams realized in real life; not without an insane amount of work to push them through into existence. That was the only way she’d ever achieved anything; nothing in life had come easily for her— she’d just worked, and worked, and finally one day seen the outcomes she wanted real, in front of her. And what Ellen believed was that she still hadn’t worked hard enough to deserve Senior Partner.

Sure, the truth was she was almost always the last attorney in the office— and sometimes the first attorney there in the morning. When she was really losing it over a case, and seeing incoming deadlines bearing down on her, sometimes she stayed up working in the office until the last possible second, then ducked down to her car, slept for an hour or two, then went up and worked the entire day on that amount of sleep.

She’d even had several periods where she had worked for twenty-six hours without stopping; there were days in which she worked until the early hours of the morning, napped only briefly, then started working again.

When she’d had a rush of several cases at once, all of them on the more high-profile side, about six months before, she’d trained herself to sleep in ninety-minute increments; lined up to her REM sleep cycle— so she would wake up as soon as her cycle had finished— it made it easier to work thirty, forty hour periods; she could close her door at the point when she absolutely couldn’t continue anymore— then close her eyes and get one sleep cycle in.

That should have been the warning sign really— it was clear to Ellen now, when she thought about it. When they’d started giving her more high-profile cases to argue on her own, she should have suspected that Senior Partner wasn’t far behind.

It wasn’t her fault— she’d won far more cases than she’d lost— and even though there was so much drafting that went into writing up legal briefs and arguments, and so much research, she was able to deliver topnotch work of the highest quality even on as little as ninety minutes sleep in a thirty-four hour period; and it was apparent to her now that the higher ups had noticed— had all this time been testing her. Granting her slightly more responsibility— granting her a greater workload— and watching her excel with it, even under everincreasing amounts of stress and pressure.

They had finally given her the greatest possible honor— the honor of being a Senior Partner among the likes of her colleagues.

This was about more than the fact that this was Ellen’s longtime dream, though. The fact was, Ellen didn’t have much in her life besides work.

So she had fallen into the routine of doing the same thing, again and again and never progressing beyond the parameters of the work set out for her; there was no space for new excitement or enjoyment to come in, no place it could enter except through the prism of work. Ellen making Senior Partner was new excitement and enjoyment, something new and special in a life that otherwise looked the same year over year. Her progressive workload had been like this, only slower. But being named Senior Partner— that was immediate. Immediately— she was excited. She was enjoying her life— and everything she had done, every twenty-six hour work binge, every solitary ninety minute sleep cycle; all of it was worth it in Ellen’s eyes.

Because Ellen Wu was the kind of woman who wore her black hair long and flowing. It looked feminine and pretty this way; but the reason she left it long was because it was simply less work. It meant she didn’t frequently have to go in and get it trimmed; and so long as she washed and conditioned it, it looked nice; and then it was easy enough to put up in a bun on days she felt she needed to be more explicitly formal.

Ellen was also the kind of woman who put a little effort in in terms of makeup; she felt that it helped her look more professional, and she believed in presenting the best version of herself around the office, and when she was doing her work. She never did makeup that was intricate, as some of the other Senior Partners and junior attorneys did; she would put on a little eye-liner, a little lipliner in a skin-tone; nothing much more than that.

She also put the effort into wearing elegant and expensive clothes; not because she truly had an eye for fashion, but again, just because she felt her job called for it, and Ellen Wu was very much about doing what was required of her; doing what was proper, what reflected well on her employer and herself. But even within the bounds of a designer label, she tended towards pieces that were simpler.

Simple, feminine, flattering; she dressed with elegance, she dressed to be presentable, but without much stylish flair of her own, like she was fitting herself into things that belonged to other people. When Ellen was in court, she commanded all attention; but the rest of the time she was easily lost in a crowd as just another woman. Her work was the only thing in her life that made Ellen feel like herself. If she hadn’t had it, she sometimes wondered if she would fade away like a wisp, losing herself, defaulting to some average identity, some average beauty, instead.

But Ellen still felt different; she looked nice, she always looked nice, but she felt that the other women around the office were dressing in the beautiful ways they did because they genuinely enjoyed doing so.

Ellen’s general style worked for her; if she hadn’t undertaken the commitment of always looking her best, in elegant simplicity, then she would have had to dress herself up so much more extravagantly on days when clients came into see her.

But by maintaining a basic baseline of beauty, she never had to go above the required on any given day. And she was prepared in the case of a client unexpectedly dropping in without a scheduled meeting; she always look as good as she could, but it was a routine set on autopilot, all level and evened out. It made her life so much easier that it was this way; her hair staying glossy black because of how she washed it; and all her outfits of a quality that befitted client-meetings.

Ellen was glad she was always prepared; even on the days that were her bread and butter, when no one was coming in to see her, and she wasn’t going out— on those days, she still looked good enough to show herself to the world and impress it. Even if she wasted that beauty on research and on drafting legal briefs.

Ellen looked good in everything she wore, because she did make sometime efforts toward her body, through exercise. She wasn’t overly petite, nicely filled out, fully occupying her five six height. And all her clothes were nicely tailored to her form so she always looked primly pretty.

But still, even within the trappings of beauty, Ellen felt she had a tendency to recede among walls and backgrounds.

There was just something in Ellen, something she’d always felt was missing. She didn’t enjoy being in her body. She didn’t enjoy using her body. She wasn’t an inherently sensual person— this meant she took no pleasure in arranging her appearance, and took no pleasure in having other people take her appearance in. She didn’t care what it felt like to be in her body— didn’t care what she was doing with it.

The only thing Ellen ever cared about was what she could do with her mind— and to that mind, Ellen’s body was only a vessel for action. Not something to enjoy, or to feel.

No one else seemed to think this of her; it was just how she felt about herself in the world.

Ellen’s lawfirm was so large she might almost have faded into the background for that reason as well— there were fifteen senior partners, and now sixteen with her— they had been evenly split between men and women— a little under, in terms of women. Before Ellen had been named there had been eight men who were Senior Partners, and seven women. Now Ellen made eight for them— and outside of partners, they had a whole pool of junior attorneys— about twenty of them; now nineteen, since Ellen was switching over— but she was sure her position would be replaced quickly— there was always a long list of lawyers, junior or not, who wanted in at their firm.

Ellen was sitting across a desk from Marcus Hendrick; he was the oldest Senior Partner, and his last name was in the title of the firm: Hendrick & Associates; and he was the one who had just told her she would be a Senior Partner.

He’d caught her on what was a briefing day for her, but she looked as good as she always did, in a modest skirt and blazer combo, with a nice blouse underneath, her hair showing its usual black gloss.

Marcus hadn’t hesitated in sharing Ellen’s promotion with her. Now he looked admiringly at her.

“So as we discussed, you can buy into the firm for the amount I mentioned; a check will be fine— and then you’ll forfeit your salary, and instead you’ll be paid the agreed upon percentage of the firm’s yearly profits. We model based on the previous years profits and if there turns out to be a discrepancy between projected profits and actual profits, the difference will be made up later.

“You’ll get the money in instalments, monthly— after a certain number of years, your percentage of profits may go up, but there’s a percentage that is a ceiling, which I and some of the more senior Senior Partners are at— and once you hit that percentage, you can’t increase your earnings beyond that point, unless you bring more business into the firm and increase yearly earnings overall.”

Ellen still couldn’t believe it. Sure, it was the work of being a Senior Partner that was the main draw for her— but the firm’s yearly earnings were substantial— and even the percentage offered to her on the agreement she was now looking at would be so many times more than her previous salary. And she had already been rich, just from living in a house she owned outright as she collected her generous salary.

This wasn’t about the money, but the thought of having so much astounded her. She didn’t know what she would even do with it.

“I think we went over everything in the agreement,” Marcus said. “Did you have any questions?”

Ellen shook her head. “I’ll sign. And I have my checkbook in my blazer pocket, I’ll write you the check to buy my way in to the partnership right now.”

Marcus offered Ellen a pen that could only be described as a luxury item, which wrote with a great flow. She was quick to sign the partnership agreement— and then she pulled her checkbook out of her blazer, and wrote a check for the amount required to buy in.

She tore it free of the book, and moved it across the desk to him.

“You can keep your office if you like,” Marcus said. “Or we can move you to a larger one.”

“It’s large enough for me.”

Marcus nodded. “There’s just a few more things to go over,” he said. “We made sure we had everything prepared before I sat you down. Obviously, as a Senior Partner, there are many perks that will accompany you in your new role.”

Ellen shook her head to show her confusion and surprise. Wasn’t the insanely high pay enough? Hendrick & Associates was an international lawfirm, after all— they did business all over the world, and she was now getting a percentage of all those profits— as well as access to the truly highprofile cases— the kind that were reported on in the newspaper, that were the subject of public conversation out in the world. Wasn’t all that enough? What else could she need? What else would she be given? She hadn’t been expecting to hear this.

“As you may have noticed,” Marcus continued, “each of our Senior Partners has three paralegals working under them— including myself. You’ll be entitled to this support also; three paralegals of your very own, since you’re a Senior Partner now too.”

This was a fringe thing, to Ellen’s perspective; not the main selling point, not why she had worked so hard to get here. But it already sounded nice to her— three people who could do her research for her— who could do the busywork of drafting briefs, leaving her only to do revisions that shined them up— that took them to the next level, but doing the grueling work of just getting something on the page for her first.

It would free up her time to do more important work— maybe free up her time enough that she could actually leave the office now and then, and finally try to have something of a life outside of work. Yes, she could imagine all the ways that having three paralegals might benefit her.

She was remembering seeing the other partners’ paralegals now— they all seemed to be twentysomethings— she didn’t think of them often because they tended to keep out of sight— never made eyecontact or talked to anyone unless they had been directly instructed to by their superior.

But it was true that each Senior Partner had a team of three supporting them— and though the paralegals didn’t talk much, all the junior attorneys tended to gossip about them— even complain about them, and when she’d still been a junior attorney, Ellen had been privy to such discussion.

Among the junior attorneys, and around the office in general, the paralegals had the reputation of modeling perfect efficiency in all that they did— never making mistakes— even setting examples for the industry at large, with their work ethics. Even outside of Hendrick & Associates, they had this reputation— and they were envied by the broader law community at large.

It didn’t help that each paralegal was annoyingly attractive— it never seemed quite fair that they were so good at their jobs as to draw envy from outside the office, while also looking practically like models; both the male and female paralegals were attractive to this level.

It was always strange to the junior attorneys that none of the paralegals ever seemed to fight— with each other, or with the Senior Partners who were over them— if they had, it would have been audible through office walls— but the paralegals seemed forever free of conflict— they never instigated any drama at all. They gave the impression of being completely devoted— even emotionally attached, to the partners they worked for.

Marcus moved a clean looking folder across his desk to Ellen. “That’s a collection of resumes and headshots of available paralegals that you may select your three from. Please look over it and come to a decision soon— you’ll be able to make the official paralegal selection on your office computer. It’ll become obvious to you how to do so, so just follow your instincts. You’ll be fine. Feel free to make this your priority for the day.”

Ellen nodded. “Thank you, Marcus. For everything.”

Marcus returned Ellen’s nod with a genuine smile. He reached across his desk to shake her hand, and Ellen accepted the handshake. “And thank you, Ellen, for joining our team.”

Then Ellen picked up the folder and went down the hallway, back to her office. She was glad she’d elected to keep it— it was more than big enough for four people in here— she already had a little round table with a glass surface and four chairs around it— she imagined her paralegals sitting there and working at it while she sat at the desk.

She also had a comfortable armchair she’d put in here last year, in the corner behind her desk. She would have sat there, but she wanted a flat surface to put the folder on. Briefly, she imagined asking a paralegal to stand in front of her and hold her folder on their hands, presenting the necessary flat surface with their body. But surely that would be too demeaning— no paralegal would ever actually agree to it.

She was letting her achievement go to her head and make her a little giddy. She shook her head then, to shake the giddiness out— and went and sat down at her desk instead, laying the folder flat, and then opening it.

She had barely started to review the information inside when she noticed something. It seemed just on the edge of her awareness— a bit of a nuisance. It was like a low buzzing— or a humming— or like someone was constantly whispering one room over, but too quietly to be deciphered.

She’d never heard this before— had someone come into her office and put little speakers around to produce this tone, just since she’d become a Senior Partner? But why would they do that? What was significant about these little tones?

The really strange thing was that when Ellen focused, and tried to listen closely, she stopped hearing them at all, and only heard completely silence. When she was half tuned out, her attention elsewhere— only then were they audible.

It was like there was something telling her to forget how to hear them, on a level that was subliminal— but that was so ridiculous Ellen couldn’t believe it was true— maybe there was something tell her to be so disbelieving, too… but she mostly wanted to forget the fact that she could hear anything. What she wanted to do now, hum or no hum— subliminal or liminal, was pick her paralegals. She’d been accepting of the benefit before but now she was actually feeling excited.

She began leafing through the information on each prospective candidate— looking over resume after resume with careful perusal. All of them were in the same age range: twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four.

She was glad she had closed her office door, it was helping her concentrate better to know that she wouldn’t be interrupted. And she was glad Marcus had told her to make this the priority of her remaining day; it was such an important task it needed to be done right.

All of these candidates were on track to graduate from post-secondary education shortly, and enter the working world. This job they would work for her would be their first job as professional, full-time workers in their adultlives; they had all been doing schooling to this point, and part-time work in the field to build their resumes— each candidate was incredibly attractive, but some weren’t to Ellen’s taste at all.

She didn’t want to consider their attractiveness— she didn’t like thinking about things like that. All those kinds of feelings were a thing she had bundled up long ago and shoved back into a cupboard in her head— and she kept them in there.

But looking through these candidates had those feelings coming out in her— she was feeling a little buzz of lust as she was looking through— thinking of the power she would have over the ones she chose, thinking of how pretty they were to look at when she saw ones she liked. And every time she turned her face away, within her head, from the ones she liked; every time she shied away from what attracted her, something much stronger than she was took a firm grip of her and forced her back to face it.

Something was pushing her towards what held physical attractiveness for her— was it that whispering, humming, buzzing thing she couldn’t make out? But then she had forgotten wondering that… the buzz was inside her body now, sitting in each erogenous zone— and that made her uncomfortable, because Ellen didn’t like feeling her body from the inside— but though a part of her protested, and disliked, and tried to look away and shift focus, she felt herself always being pulled back to the point of attraction— that humming was still playing in the background, so much louder, and more easily permeating her when her mind was half out-of-focus… and somehow, Ellen realized when she looked down, she had separated the candidates into two piles: discards, and then the candidates who were personally attractive to her. She didn’t remember doing it.

The pile that Ellen was left with didn’t surprise her— every single candidate in it was a blonde, and every blonde was a woman— not one man had made it in, attractive though the male candidates might have been by heterosexual standards.

Ellen had had a longtime fascination with all blondes— even when she had been a child, it had been present. She had always chosen blonde Barbie dolls when given the choice, though her parents had offered her a great variety in dolls, often including ones that looked like her— she had always chosen blonde Barbies over the rest, even though she hadn’t totally understood why.

It had been an innocent fascination, but she had always found them prettiest, felt drawn to, what had seemed to her, their bright cheeriness.

The Barbies offered to her had been various— all different hair colors and skintones, but still, Ellen had always chosen the blonde ones and ignored the rest.

The fascination had grown when Ellen had gone into highschool. She had for the most part kept to herself, wearing simple clothes, somehow becoming anonymous in her prettiness, as she did to this day.

She’d kept her head down for the first three years, not really paying attention to anyone or anything outside of her studies. But once she’d turned eighteen, and realized how soon she was actually going to be out into her post-secondary education, she’d looked up and paid more attention.

Secretly, in such a way that no one would have suspected it, Ellen had watched the cheerleaders in senior year, all eighteen like her— she had ignored all of them that weren’t blonde, but the blonde ones— she had watched them, again and again— fascinated by their bodies, by the way they moved, talked, laughed together.

She had only ever admitted it to herself, but she had envied them. Life came so easily to them— they were who everyone wanted to be— even the other cheerleaders who weren’t blonde; they knew how to be beautiful. They were like magical creatures to her— and though there was some embedded resentment, Ellen had never been able to stop looking at them.

Some of the girls in her class, of a similar age to her, had dyed their hair blonde to be more like those eighteen-year-old blonde cheerleaders— but Ellen had never had anything but contempt for those girls; and girls with fake blonde hair held no magic for her; just because they could change their hair color, appropriate it, Ellen felt— it didn’t mean that they could adopt the grace that the natural blondes had.

All of these were things Ellen had kept cupboarded up in her head so she didn’t have to think about what they meant. But finally, when she was in law school, Ellen had had to accept the obvious: she was a lesbian— there had been too many other beautiful blonde adultfemale students around her to deny it anymore.

But for Ellen, this had been just a perfunctory admission to herself. Then she had shoved everything right back into the cupboard. She knew she was a lesbian, and her taste was for blondes— especially blondes with the temperament of a cheerleader full of pep. But it had been too late to do anything about it— in law school, she didn’t have the time to date, or love, or have sex— all her time belonged to her work.

It had been that way when Ellen was still in school— and it had stayed that way once she had taken the bar, and come on board as a junior attorney at Hendrick & Associates. She had never had time for love, or sex, or sensual enjoyment— or attraction, or arousal. It had been easier to keep all of that in the cupboard, where she didn’t have to deal with it; it had been easier to be a working robot, with all her human impulses and emotions locked back there, not getting in her way.

She had locked so much of herself away, walled herself up to do this job— this afternoon, looking at the candidates— this was the most attraction and arousal she’d allowed herself to feel in a very long time, and even so she had fought it constantly throughout the experience.

Ellen started leafing through her much smaller profile— blonde woman after blonde woman, many of them looking like the peppy type she preferred.

But wait— those three, one after another— they looked more alike than the other variants on blonde beauty did; and they all shared the same last name. Ellen separated their three resumes and headshots out and read each one more carefully— it was hidden, it required closer reading— but her suspicions were confirmed. The three candidates were sisters— no, they were more than sisters. Ellen read more carefully still. The three candidates were triplets, all twenty-two years old.

Someone had made a note at the bottom of one resume— it was a note in pen, so it must have been someone at the firm who had noted this, and not the sisters themselves. The three of them came in a package together— if Ellen wanted to choose one sister, she had to choose all three— there was no hiring them in such a way that would separate them from each other. It was either all of them or none of them.

Ellen lay each of their headshots next to each other, and looked from one to the following one— they were blonde, which in her daze she had focused in on, but now that she was closely studying their faces, Ellen could see they weren’t just blonde. They were identical too; their faces were exactly the same— elegant, graceful, sculpted— but sculptures that had been cast in a mold— the same mold used three times over. It was like looking at the exact same face over and over— they were not just identical, they were IDENTICAL.

Ellen felt a little flare of heat at the base of her spine— they were beautiful, sexy creatures— she wanted to know more. Luckily, there was a second handwritten note below the first— more candidate information available in our candidate database— can be accessed through your computer.

Ellen had yet to use it since coming back in here, but that was enough of a reason to turn it on. She booted it up— and there was a new icon on her desktop.

The icon was named ‘Candidates Portal’ and it hadn’t been there before— if someone had come in her office while she was away to place little speakers throughout in well-hidden places, that would have also been the ideal time to install this access point to the database; but Ellen dismissed these thoughts, choosing not to question the appearance of this icon, and opting instead to select it.

It opened the database of candidates as promised— there was a list of many names, all of which Ellen recognized after going through so many of their resumes— she scrolled for a name that belonged to one of the triplets— Alena, Alana or Alexa, any one of the three would work. It was Alana’s that she found first, so Ellen selected her profile with a quick leftclick.

She’d been expecting to find information about her academic achievements, or her professional history. That was not what the profile contained at all: it was all personal information. Alana’s age; 22, as Ellen had already noticed; her blood type, her height, her weight, and the measurements of her body: 34C chest, 24 inch waist, 34 inch hips.

Alana’s headshot was also linked in her profile— in preview, Ellen could see exactly the image that had been visible to her in the folder— but when Ellen clicked on it, it revealed itself to be a fulllength image of her body— the headshot had been cropped from a nude photo— Ellen immediately felt her body flush, and she clenched her thighs together— still resisting her own arousal.

Everything on Alana’s body was firm, and perky; it was like a daydream made real, this woman was Ellen’s ideal type. She was so lost in the experience, in the way it made her feel, that no part of her questioned how the lawfirm had nude pictures of Alana. Or maybe the part of her that would have questioned that had been coaxed into acquiescence by the dim sound of background humming…

Ellen quickly navigated over to Alena’s profile, and then Alexa’s. All their information matched Alana’s; the three of them truly were a matching set— but then Ellen noticed a new option on the profile when she scrolled a little further down.

It said she could customize their bodies— to any set of measurements she liked. Realizing this, part of her tried to surface and question— how could this be possible? How could the lawfirm have the power or the authority to see this carried out? How could they have the method? But it was so much easier to let herself be hummed back into acceptance… it felt better to sit there, smiling at the thought of being able to design these girls to be the way she wanted them.

But the fact was, each one of them were already her ideal— she liked them exactly as they were, naturally— she didn’t need their measurements changed. But she did choose to have them stripped of all hair neckdown, chose to raise their Kinsey scale ratings up to sixes, as well as increasing the tone in the muscles throughout their bodies.

She had avoided making any truly major changes to them— but even as Ellen selected these, which she considered to be more minor adjustments, part of it felt like a joke to her. Of course, the lawfirm didn’t really have the power to oversee changes like that— the ethical nightmare alone meant it couldn’t really be true.

No employer could dictate the terms of a new hire’s life so strictly; Ellen told herself she’d just selected those options because they were there— she’d chosen them just to see what would happen. She made all these justifications to herself because it just seemed too ridiculous to be real— it was outside her understanding of reality, it didn’t fit with the way things were supposed to operate.

But she did have a different feeling about this, too. Ellen had a kind of wistfulness, she thought. If only reality really could be like that— if only the lawfirm did have the ability to grant her complete determination over the lives and bodies of her paralegals.

It was too late for her, she thought, to ever open the cupboard, and experience love, or execute lust… and even if the lawfirm did somehow have the ability to give her this kind of determination, it didn’t mean that anything romantic or sexual would ever happen between her and her paralegals. But in choosing to tweak them— or pretending to herself that she was tweaking them, it felt almost like the beginning of something— the beginning of her taking control of them— using them for whatever she wanted, even for sexual things.

It was just a lonely woman’s dream. Not real— but felt so nice to think about.

It seemed that, right within the database program, it was possible for Ellen to make her selection— she only had to designate it by clicking the little box next to the word “Select” until it was filled with a checkmark.

Apparently the software that allowed her to access the candidate database recognized her as its user— she had somehow been set up with a profile, even if it was only a viewing profile. Ellen went through each of their profiles: Alena’s, Alana’s, and Alexa’s— and in each one, she clicked the selectbox; she had made her choice, and she was suffused with a sensation of satisfaction. Now she could close out of the program, which she promptly did.

As soon as she had, it seemed that her mind fogged over— she couldn’t remember the details of how she’d spent the last few hours; she remembered only that she had selected her paralegals. But she remembered nothing of what that had actually entailed.

Somehow, it didn’t seem so important that all of that information was hazed over. Something told her it was just fine that she couldn’t remember. It was peaceful, and made her happy. So she gladly chose not to worry about it.

Six weeks passed. And on the first morning after this period, Marcus reached out to Ellen by phone call to ask her if she wanted have lunch with him in his office. She remembered her first day as partner, that she had selected her paralegals then; though the rest of her day around that point was a blur.

Specifically, who she had picked— and Ellen did remember picking the triplets. When she was in her office, she didn’t wish she could remember more— it didn’t bother her. But when she was outside of it, walking from point to point, then she did remember to wish recall.

Yet it was exciting to have a lunch with Marcus to look forward to. As a junior attorney, she’d never had cause to interact with him much. After all, Marcus was the managing partner for the entire office; he was just a little above everyone else, even the most senior Senior Partners, because of this. And after all, it was his last name that titled the lawfirm. By that definition, the rest of them, senior or not, were all just “Associates.”

The morning seemed to go quickly; it was once again a briefing and research day, so once again, Ellen looked just as pretty and just as nice as she always did.

She was wearing a navy dress today that hugged the lines of her body in a way that still projected modesty, as modesty was more or less typical of her.

When morning ended, she was quick to return to Marcus’ office; she’d been in here six weeks ago making everything official, but this time it felt different; this was more of a social call than the earlier time.

She’d made sure to duck down to the lobby to get a boxed salad first, so she’d have something to eat. The salad place down there was so healthy, and their salads were bountiful and beautifully assembled. She wasn’t usually a salad person, but for those salads, she became one. She had her little brown box in hand, the top of it held together by folded under flaps, and she found Marcus’ door open when she reached it.

Marcus also had a table in his office, though his was more ornate than hers… carved wood, and curlicues of metal running along ridges. His was square, too, and not round like hers. He was sitting at it, with his food— a salad for him too, and when he saw Ellen, he nodded to her.

“Close the door behind you, all of us are here,” he instructed, and she pulled the door closed as she entered inside.

All of us? She hadn’t known anyone else was making partner: but there were two more former junior attorneys around the table, leaving one chair for her: Paul, and Heather— both of whom Ellen only knew in passing. She guessed there would be three new junior attorneys hired instead of just one.

She sat down in the last chair.

Heather looked like she had brought a wrapped sandwich done up in paper— this was sitting on the table in front of her untouched. Paul looked like he’d come here in such a hurry that he’d forgotten to run out and grab something to eat. Marcus was the only one who seemed to be eating, but he had set down both salad and fork within it now that Ellen was sitting down. He was giving the three of them a contemplative look.

Ellen was quick to look aside at her fellow promoteds; Heather was a little small in her chair because she was so short, and her hair was tawny, and hung in tight curls, which she had pulled back into a ponytail with a wide clip. She was wearing a finely tailored dress that was a pale green color.

Paul was a bit taller than average— and his hair was a deep brown shade, sometimes mistakeable for black— and he was wearing a nondescript suit that he also disappeared inside of, because he had a naturally wiry body; Ellen thought to herself that at least when she felt she was disappearing into her clothes, they still fit her, she didn’t drown inside of them. At least she wasn’t wiry; she was solidly there.

Still, the three of them must have looked ridiculous from Marcus’ perspective, like a collection of outcasts. Maybe this was what he was contemplating with such concentration, Ellen supposed. They really must have looked funny there, the three of them in their mid-thirties, and yet shrinking in front of Marcus like they were still in lawschool.

Since no one else was eating, Ellen set her closed brown box of salad on the table. She could eat at her desk when this get-together was over— salad was cold food so it wasn’t like it could be ruined if it sat waiting for an hour.

She hoped Heather’s sandwich hadn’t been hot. Even something that was wrapped so tightly couldn’t retain heat for that long, and unlike her lunch, it would be much less enjoyable to eat after being left to wait.

“I’ve invited you to lunch here in my office— with the door closed— because what I’m about to tell you is extremely confidential,” Marcus spoke again, breaking the silence. “I didn’t want us to meet in the breakroom, or one of the conference rooms— I didn’t want to risk any junior attorneys or clients walking by and hearing what I’m going to tell you. My office is surrounded by other Senior Partners— this is the safest place to tell you, and no one will overhear us.”

Paul and Heather shifted nervously in their seats. So did Ellen.

“I hope you can gauge by my secretive approach that you’re not to repeat this information to anyone else, ever, for any reason. But our firm has a secret. The paralegal teams that work for each of our Senior Partners are meant to support them not only professionally. They’re also meant to support them personally. You are Senior Partners now: you each have your own teams; they will support you in both ways also.”

Ellen sat for a moment reflecting on what she’d just heard. She wondered if she’d fallen asleep and started dreaming this at her desk.

This was the kind of thing she’d been dreaming of, in her immediate past, though the memories of it were hazy. She thought she’d been thinking of this in daydream— thought she might even have dreamt it last night when she fell asleep. Personal attention and support, from those three blonde beauties… it made her happy for reasons she couldn’t entirely explain, pinpoint.

But she was overcome with the feeling of unreality. She was misunderstanding what Marcus was saying, or he had misspoken; or the kind of personal support would just be job related— he had used the word personal, though, so could it really somehow be? She didn’t know what to believe, but it seemed too perfect, it seemed too wonderful to actually be real.

“As you may know,” he spoke on, “the paralegals we employ are the envy of every other lawfirm in the city; and every other lawfirm we ever liaise or collaborate with around the world. They are the image of professionalism; the work they do is impeccable, and their decorum is above reproach.”

Ellen knew. She was sure Paul and Heather would know this, too. It wasn’t just throughout the city, around the world, or across multiple other lawfirms. The paralegals were envied even within the office; it wasn’t just external sources who looked to them and wished for access to them.

It was a constant grumbling point among junior attorneys that there were no paralegals for them; when junior attorneys got to collaborate with Senior Partners on cases, they often got to see firsthand and upclose how completely perfect the work ethic of the paralegals was— how high the standard of their work. And then when the junior attorneys had to go back to doing everything completely on their own, they complained to each other that they had no help, and no help like that— paralegals were watched with envy when they were seen passing in the halls.

Some of the junior attorneys kept to themselves less than Ellen had; when they were truly swamped with work, they sometimes tried to help each other out amongst themselves, even with people who they weren’t officially collaborating with— but even when this was discussed around the breakroom, the sense was that this was an option that had been settled for, and not the solution they really wanted.

So Ellen knew well how the paralegals were regarded, and what the quality of their output was. She wasn’t entirely thinking about that— she was thinking of how nice it would be, not to have to do everything all on her own anymore; to have fewer late nights, to be able to delegate and to outsource.

“They’ll be dedicated to helping you, will work with great drive; they’re your support team, here at work,” Marcus said, “and they deserve their reputation of epitomizing professional integrity.”

Marcus shook his head. “But outside of work, they’re still meant to give you support; they’re meant to give you comfort, and they’re meant to give you pleasure.”

No— it was like he’d just spoken Ellen’s greatest wish. It wasn’t fair to hear it, it wasn’t fair to have it, even for a moment, even as a concept, even in the abstract. It wasn’t fair to have it when Ellen knew it would have to be taken away— because it couldn’t really be true.

Distorted memories of selecting the triplets returned to her— the feeling… she’d savored the thought of holding complete power over them, being able to dictate anything and everything to them, well beyond the bounds of work. The dream that she could touch them— enjoy them— use them— three triplets all for her. She was getting flushed at the table. There was no way this could actually be accurate. Marcus must be giving them some strange kind of test— or else this was an elaborate way of hazing new partners.

There was something in Ellen that was disquiet at thinking this— like some part of her knew, far down what was really true, and when all her fears and doubts hit against it, there was immediate dissonance. But she just couldn’t make sense of what she was hearing from Marcus. She was sitting there, feeling she had just lost something substantial; her hands limp in her lap; she felt she’d lost possessing the triplets before she’d ever even had them— and she felt claiming and clingy as she sat there.

She didn’t just want to work above them, and delegate, and order around. She wanted full ownership of them, wanted to know their bodies completely, wanted to know them into their souls. She wasn’t sure where the feeling had come from. It was like her cupboard was bursting open, and all the shoved in emotions coming loose. But now she felt they’d been there, dormant in the dark, out of the light of awareness for so long they’d gotten warped in there.

The way in which she wanted to own and control and claim seemed animal to her— seemed even cruel. Those young women were people— but she didn’t seem to care about that— she only seemed to want to get her teeth in them, to get her hands in their firm flesh. She’d been so lonely for so long— she’d craved the touch and companionship of other women for so long— it all meant so much to her that she felt she was sitting there grieving the loss of this possibility.

Because she hadn’t worked for this— she hadn’t earned this— this hadn’t been something she’d known about, that she could work towards. And in her life to date, that usually meant things like this got ripped away from her. She didn’t think she’d be able to stand even losing this as a concept— having to interact with the triplets everyday, knowing what could never be.

“You’ll take them home with you at night,” Marcus continued speaking. “And you’ll have complete say over everything they do— every decision they make, every action they enact. They’ll belong to you completely, and when you are alone, in private with them, they’ll be your harem— happily serving your every sexual desire— serving as you please, waiting on your instruction.”

Marcus spoke with relish, and behind each word there seemed to be many personal and cherished memories which he was fueling his speech with. There was a look in his eyes that seemed to suggest he was thinking back to many nights spent in great enjoyment; if Marcus was pretending, he was pretending very well.

This had Ellen feeling even more flushed as she sat there— she didn’t want to look at Paul or Heather anymore because she felt so self-conscious at that moment. She still didn’t really believe it— but even if it was something that was going to be snatched away from her, even if Marcus was about to laugh in all their faces for believing him, it was such a beautiful idea Ellen wanted to bask in it for as long as it still seemed plausible.

The triplets— attending to her all day at work— going above and beyond, crossing over to assistants in some of their tasks. Running to do errands for her, running to grab food or coffee with her— drafting her briefs, then turning them over to her for improvement and correction and expansion— doing her research, then compiling it for her to go through, and select the most salient bits out of. Sometimes touching her in a caring way, while they were in her office together— a comforting resting of a hand on her arm as they gave her something she’d asked for— caring smiles— a deep affection and devotion to her coming through in their every action.

And then the three of them coming home with her into her bed— the wrongness of it— the ethical breach— the cruelty— kissing and licking and making love to them. Forcing them to do it to each other— making three sisters sex each other as she watched— transgressing against cultural propriety by forcing them to enact incest with each other— or with each other while they were also with her— getting to know, getting to feel, getting to taste every part of their bodies. Then when back in the office again, remembering it all— but no sign of it being present, except the triplets’ overcaringness towards her.

What could have made them so willing? What could have made them so receptive? It was wrong, in Ellen’s head, but she was glad it was wrong. If they really would do everything— if they would wait on her to want them, and would be happy when she did— it was the most beautiful dream she’d ever had and she was having it awake. She hadn’t ever let herself think so lustfully— couldn’t make herself regret it.

“Now that you all understand,” Marcus said, “I think you’re ready to meet your new teams. Let’s get them in here.”

He glanced at his watch— a luxury watch he had clearly been easily able to afford. “I timed my explanation perfectly, so they should be just—”

There was the light sound of knocking on Marcus’ office door.

“Let yourselves in and close the door behind you,” Marcus called out to the hall, and the door opened. Nine young twentysomethings entered.

Six of them weren’t Ellen’s— six of them weren’t for her— her eyes skipped over them, seeking the ones that she really wanted to see.

There they were— the three of them. Alena, Alana, Alexa. They looked so much prettier than they had in their pictures— vaguely, Ellen thought she had even seen a naked picture of one of them somehow, but the recollection was distant.

She was enamored with looking at them— and as soon as the three of them saw her, they took on a deferent pose— as if it was something of great significance for them to be seeing her too— each one was wearing their blonde hair down. They already somehow knew it was her preference, to see blonde tresses hanging at their full length, not pulled back or put up— and each of them was wearing a tight and short dress: in three different colors.

Alena’s was blue, Alana’s was purple, and Alexa’s was red. They looked like the same person standing next to each other, three times over; the dresses were sleeveless, with highnecks— the top half of the dress had a bit of a square shape, right out to the flaring at the shoulders— then it cinched in at the waist with a belt on each of them; then the skirt came down, hugging around their legs, ending just about halfway to the knee; it made Ellen want to see their legs; from what she could see, the muscles visible were incredibly toned— each one of them looked modelesque, and like they maintained that form through athleticism.

They were so hot— and thinking in these terms was unfamiliar to Ellen, but she was trying to take up the knack. She wanted to see them naked; wanted to see them everywhere, trace all the places of their bodies with her eyes— wanted to taste them there, feel them there.

But though they were incredibly attractive in their business attire dresses, they looked like they belonged in this office— complete, consummate professionals. It drove Ellen crazy knowing their skirts hugged them so tight that their thighs would have to be constantly brushing past themselves with every step they took in the pairs of highheels they were all wearing— at the end of those long legs that Ellen could just lick down.

And the three of them were standing there, a picture of submission, their heads slightly bowed— looking up at her from under shy lashes— waiting for her to claim them. She wanted to.

There were three other women in the room besides the triplets. And Ellen needed to look away from the triplets now, before she was overwhelmed by her hunger for them— she looked towards the other women.

These were clearly Paul’s, because he was staring at them the way Ellen knew she’d just been staring at her own belongings. And they were looking back at him in that shy waiting way Ellen had seen on the faces of her own paralegals. She could recognize that she and Paul were in the same position, that the three women looking at Paul were the same as the three women looking at her, but in her mind, there was nothing special about them. They might have been exactly the same on paper, at least in terms of their attitude— but they were nothing like the triplets who now belonged to her.

His were inferior— Ellen knew bias had to be influencing her at least a little, but she didn’t care. In her way of thinking, the triplets were the very best of all the paralegals in the office and in this room. Nothing would convince her otherwise.

It seemed like Paul had gotten exactly the ideal he had hoped for, in the way Ellen had; and Paul’s taste in women was very different than Ellen’s. Each of his three women had red hair— Ellen had never liked redheads much; she had always liked blondes better than all others; but these redheads did have nice bodies.

They weren’t quite as identical as Ellen’s girls. They had clearly each been birthed of different parental pairs. But they looked close in appearance to each other— eerily so. Because it was clear that they all had different parents, and yet they all still looked like they were sisters, or perhaps slightly less accurate clones of each other.

Their faces were the most distinct, but each facial feature was only ever a few inches off in size, either smaller or larger, than the facial features of the others in their trio. They all had a similar body shape; smaller teardrop breasts— still there, still appealing, but smaller— thin at the waist, like Ellen’s girls, but not broad in either the chest or the hips so it didn’t look like they were coming down in size towards their waists and then expanding back out from there.

They all looked like they could be in a girlband together— or some other kind of gimmick female performers; like they could have believably put on rollerskates and done routines choreographed to accompanying rock music. Or like they could have put on figure skates and done the same thing; choreographed routines to music, moving their bodies under lively lightshows.

They had a uniform look; as if they had been designated to look this way, like this was an expected outfit they had to wear so they all looked the same. Ellen wondered if they had always looked like this, or if they’d been changed to.

The last three paralegals in the room held no appeal for Ellen at all; they were men, and she felt no attraction to men at all. But Heather clearly saw their appeal, because she was looking at them spellbound. They were more muscular than the faint muscle toning that Ellen’s paralegals had. These three men were clearly athletes— and they didn’t look at all similar, apart from their clearly shared level of fitness— they were all in incredibly good shape; and each one of them was over six feet tall.

Ellen couldn’t help herself. Heather barely reached five feet— she burst out laughing— and when Paul heard this, he looked to see what had made her laugh, and realized for himself.

“Good luck reaching them, Heather,” Paul teased her. “I hope they’re not too far away for you to get to.”

“Yes, you’ll make quite a striking team with them,” Marcus contributed, laughing himself.

Ellen was still laughing too hard to talk. This was the most lighthearted thing that had happened so far in this meeting— everything had been about longing, and not having, and being separated from. At least it had been about that for Ellen— but it felt good to be laughing now.

“Marcus is right,” Ellen wheezed out. “The difference in your sizes will always make the four of you stand out when you’re together.”

Heather took the laughter in good humor. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, even smiling herself. “I know there’s a gulf between us. But they’re what I want.”

That last part wasn’t so funny. That was how Ellen felt about her women— she was sure it was how Paul felt about his— she glanced briefly back at them. They were quite petite— they were much smaller than she was, in her filled out frame— she was filled out, and so were her women— though their waists came in narrower than her own did.

She let herself look back at them, finally— it made the laughter die in her. The desperation with which she craved to touch them was a serious thing. There was nothing funny about it at all; if Marcus hadn’t been so clear about the boundaries around being at work versus being at home, she would have taken them back with her into her office, closed the door, and… fucked… them all, right there. Thinking so crudely was out of character for her— but it felt more natural in this moment than her typical tack of denying every impulse.

What she wanted to do to these women was not sweet— it was ravenous, it was filthy, it would be degrading for them. She wanted to fuck— she didn’t know how she’d last the rest of the day with them looking like that. Their skin was so golden; well sunned… it looked perfect against their hair— she wanted to lose herself in the journey over their bodies— how could she wait for the end of the working day? It was too distant.

“Well, it seems like you’re all happy with your choices,” Marcus said, shifting back in his chair and clasping his hands in each other. “Congratulations! This is your first day with your paralegals— so each of you should seriously consider taking the afternoon off to celebrate. Go home for the day, take your paralegals with you; that way you can get to know them— and you can enjoy the rewards of hard work well done.”

This was the first time Ellen had considered these paralegals as something she’d earned— something she deserved, not just random good luck. If it was random good luck it could run out, or be taken away. But if it was something she had really, truly earned— then it was hers to keep forever. How she wanted it to be true— who cared if she hadn’t known the three of them were what she’d been working towards? Who cared, if she hadn’t known that becoming Senior Partner would also come with this perk?

Just because she hadn’t understood the full reality of the job didn’t mean she was undeserving; and even if she hadn’t known everything she would attain, it didn’t mean that she should enjoy what she had received any less now that she had it. She had worked hard— that had given her the right to these three young women; and they were right here with her now— they would always be this close to her, or closer— she let herself look them over again.

Their deference struck her once more. What had been done to them, to make them like this? Surely they had not always been so naturally submissive, so seeking of an older authority figure to claim them and own them forever— they must have wanted something beyond personal slavery at one time. But they had been convinced not to want those old things, whatever they had been. They had been convinced to want what they wanted now; to be as they were now. They had been made to want Ellen.

That didn’t cheapen their devotion in Ellen’s estimation; there was something arousing about it— thinking of them being prepared for her, made with the intention of being a gift for her— they had belonged to her even before they belonged to her, because they had been intended for her. Prepared to her specifications— though she couldn’t specifically remember what those had been. Maybe the firm really had been responsible… maybe they had ways of convincing new hires. She could almost believe it now, just from the ways in which each of the three of them were standing.

“Thank you Marcus,” Paul was saying as he stood up. “Thank you for all your help as the three of us transition into our new roles.” He extended a hand for a handshake.

“Thank you,” Heather echoed, then Ellen echoed the same.

The three of them explained they were going to take Marcus’ advice, and then each of them left with their paralegals.

Ellen’s paralegals stood in front of her in the frontroom of her home. There was little furniture in there with them, just a couch that had been pushed back against the wall— but Ellen had no intention of sitting there when she could be standing up close to the three of them.

They were all still wearing their dresses— the curtains had been drawn to block outside view. Ellen knew the triples wouldn’t have felt any shame in being seen by passersby, but she had closed the curtains to protect the firm, and its reputation. Her paralegals’ slavery must be secreted.

Her paralegals— the word didn’t seem quite right. She was going to do so much more to them beyond seeking their support of her legal work. They belonged to her much more intimately, though she hadn’t touched them yet— they were her slaves, they were her— concubines. They were her personal pleasure servants— she liked concubine best, for thinking of them— and she knew she’d think of them even as concubines while in the office. No one would know the true nature of her relationship to them, but she would think of them according to the way that she knew them.

She’d asked them to stand as they were standing— she hadn’t said anything else to them yet; and they hadn’t said anything to her. She remembered how silent the other paralegals in the office were— her concubines probably wouldn’t speak until requested to. And they expected no explanation from her.

She wanted to see them, now that they really were hers. She wanted to inspect every inch of them.

She stepped forward to Alena, who was standing in the center of the three. She reached down, to seize the hem of her hugging-tight skirt— she shuddered to find it felt as tight as it looked. She pulled the hem up, making the fabric gather, looking almost like it would pull into tearing. She kept pulling it until Alena’s underwear were visible; a black lace thong that fitted her tightly.

Her thighs looked as appetizing as Ellen had dreamed— the tops of her legs too. She let herself drag a hand up the front of Alena’s leg, twisting inwards to skim between her thighs at the end. Everywhere Ellen had touched so far had been tight— she was doing this, she was really doing this, even though at the same time she was feeling insecure in everything she did.

She stepped closer, so she could feel the front of Alena’s body against hers— she reached behind her to find the tight zipper of her dress, and she pulled it down slowly. Immediately, the fabric seemed to relax, as if it were exhaling. It bunched looser, and Ellen caught the top of Alena’s dress, and then rolled it down, the waistbelt coming with it— exposing Alena’s body— her bra matched her thong; and she was standing there wearing only her underthings.

Ellen leaned in and kissed Alena’s neck, inhaling her scent as she pulled away from her.

Ellen shifted to the left of Alena, where Alana was standing in her purple dress. She felt a little emboldened after touching Alena first, so Ellen let her hands come over Alana’s breasts, cupping them both through the fabric. She kissed the side of Alana’s face as she did this— and then reached behind her also, and slowly pulled her zipper down. This time, she had one hand just above the zipper, following it down Alana’s back as more and more of it became exposed to the air.

Alana shuddered as this happened— then when she had pulled the zipper to its base, she seized the top of the dress, and pulled it down, until it hung half off of Alana at her hips.

Ellen put her hands over the cups of Alana’s bra— her thong was Alena’s doubled, her bra matching black lace and Ellen squeezed through the cups— Alana shuddered again as Ellen patiently worked her hands into fists and then opened them again, teasing her nipples out through her bra. She grabbed the dress and gave it a tug, to send it to rest around Alana’s feet— and then she cupped the opening of Alena’s vagina through her black lace thong— she worked her hand there too, bunching it into her grip, getting some of Alena’s flesh with it, releasing it again.

Then she left Alana, passed Alena, and stood in front of Alexa. She kissed her full on the mouth, teasing Alexa’s lips with her own, coaxing them more fully into her own mouth— she kept kissing her this way, playing at her tongue with her own as she drew the zipper down on Alexa’s dress.

None of them were moving— or speaking— they shuddered, they responded— Alexa was kissing back— but they were all waiting for her to tell them how to be, what they were wanted for— they were putting up no resistance at all, there was absolutely no reluctance in Alexa as Ellen delved through her mouth; they were letting themselves be stripped down without fighting back— in fact, the way each of them was shuddering were they stood, it almost seemed like they were aroused, waiting in impatient anticipation for Ellen to do more to them— and while she kissed Alexa, and helped her out of her dress, the other two were just standing there, waiting— waiting for Ellen to want them, but completely immobile as they did.

She had Alexa down to underthings now, black lace bra and thong the same as her sisters’ which contrasted her gilded skin and hair— Alexa was trembling, so unbearably turned on from being undressed apparently that she couldn’t hold still. This aroused Ellen even more— to know each of them craved her as much as she craved them— this was as erotic for them as it was for her. They wanted to be seen as much as she wanted to see them— they wanted to be touched as much as she wanted to touch them.

She dragged her hands, fingersfirst, across Alexa’s chest before swirling her fingertips in circles over Alexa’s bracups. Sometimes she swirled a little high, and her fingertips passed over the surface of Alexa’s bra onto her bare skin. But she just kept tracing, working in circles— Alexa was still shuddering as she stood there. Ellen reached behind her, and undid the clasp on Alexa’s bra. She lifted it off her— and Alexa raised her arms to help, then lowered them again when Ellen had gotten it off her.

Ellen put her hands to her mouth, quickly sucking the fingers of one, before raising her other hand, and sucking the fingers of the other— Alexa’s nipples were already as hard as little rocks, but she knew everything would feel more sensitive for her with a little moisture. She dragged fingertips over nipples— then rolled them, doing it cyclically, starting when she began, letting it seem endless.

A full body tremor went through Alexa, and Ellen dropped a hand to feel the crotch of her thong— it was drenched. She had just gushed a whole new stream of arousal into it; and Ellen reached to roll Alexa’s thong down until it landed on the dress Alexa’s feet were still covered by. When Ellen looked down, she could see Alexa’s arousal streaking on her leg.

Next she went back to Alena, and helped her out of her bra first— then her thong. She had bent down to guide the thong down Alena’s legs, so her face was at breastheight when she was finished, and she moved her seeking tongue outwards to lick at the nipple that was jutting closest to her face— Alena’s left.

At the same time, she pinched the other nipple repeatedly between thumb and firstfinger— then she set her teeth lightly on the nipple that was already in her mouth, scraping slowly and gently with them— Alena seemed to be really struggling with task of remaining standing— and when Ellen felt her bare crotch, she could feel the arousal there, slick on her fingers.

She came to Alana last, and if possible, Alana was even more aroused still— she had watched Ellen fondling and teasing her sisters, and it had only primed her for the moment Ellen arrived at her— clearly, there was no shame for her in being with sisters— in seeing them be so graphically pleasured— Ellen found this made her happy.

She took Alana’s bra off her, feeling the boldest she’d felt so far— she nipped Alana on the breast with her teeth, leaving red bitemarks there— then took down her thong, and nipped her similarly on the thigh. She enjoyed the way Alana’s entire body jerked when she did this. Then she stepped back from the three of them.

“Step free of your clothes,” she instructed, and then, as one being, the triplets stepped out of the pile each of their dresses and underwear had formed. They were all naked in front of her now.

Ellen had them all completely exposed to her now; and she marveled at their bodies. She felt like a part of her had been waiting very long to see them bare like this— though as her eyes swept over Alana, she remembered suddenly that she had seen her before— nude, in a picture like she was right now.

And as she looked at each of them and saw how well-defined their each muscle was, and how completely without bodyhair their bodies were, she remembered, too, that she’d requested this: greater muscle tone, no bodyhair— she liked the way that each one of them looked, bald from the neck downwards. It made it easier to consider their bodies, and compare them.

Over and over, and the more that Ellen had seen them, the more she had felt that the three of them were more clones than sisters— and she was most convinced of this now. There were no identifying marks on any of them, because Alana was standing with her legs together, so the bite mark on her thigh was not visible. If Ellen looked at the bitemark that was on Alana’s right breast, that was the only distinguishing mark she could anchor on.

Otherwise, body for body they were the same, three duplicates; no blemishes, no signs of damage. Just perfectly pristine, and perfectly alike. Ellen felt she was getting them fresh, and new. It seemed like there could not be three more identical people in the world; she had them as a set, and they were so without damage she was sure she was the first person who had ever had them.

She let herself look at them with greater lewdness— the image of each of them was a cool drink for her to swallow down, heated as she was— she remembered how small the breasts of Paul’s redheads had been, and loved seeing the breasts of her own women— those lovely C-cups, duplicated thrice over; with a nice heft, a nice, shapely rounding, but not so large as to be obscene, or ridiculous.

The perfect size to have some weight— to provide a nice base to fist hands in— and each of their stomachs were so slender, as they slimmed down to their waists— slender, and they showed lines of taut muscle, since the women were naked.

And really, the only hair on their bodies, apart from the hair that grew out of their heads, was their eyebrow hair; below that, there was nothing else. Their baldness meant she could see their arousal glimmering— if they had been standing legs apart she could have seen right into their pussies.

They were each of them still standing there and waiting— waiting for her— they had submitted to her in every possible way in their minds already— they had already given into her before ever meeting her. She didn’t care if someone else had been the one to unlock their minds— they had handed her the keys after.

She was their mistress now, and they knew it. It was hot to think of the how and why— to imagine what might have happened to them to unlock their minds, but most of all, Ellen was just grateful that it had happened. It had brought them to her, and they were hers now.

She could make them do anything and they would do it— that made her feel even more powerful than her new title as Senior Partner. She wanted to see them move, and interact now. They had stood still waiting for her to want something and now she did.

She stepped back, to pick up the remote off of the couch, and aimed it at the speaker system. The music that came on had a thundering bass— it was down, and it was raunchy. She had put a CD in the player that she thought might be suitable— she’d had to stop on the drive home to run in and get it, because she hadn’t had anything like that in her house before. And she’d put it in the central system’s player before bringing them in, just in case she wanted it.

The window was still curtain-covered behind them. But the triplets would have danced the same way had it been uncovered; would have danced to show the whole world they were sluts. They were immodest; but because the window was covered, this was just Ellen’s to know.

Ellen sat down on the couch, and crossed her legs. “Dance for me,” she told them. “Show me how sexy you feel.”

Immediately they complied, which took Ellen half out of her head. It made her feel wildly aroused to see how quickly they obeyed— but then she was drawn to how they looked as they danced; flesh moving, flesh gyrating, flesh writhing; each body took on a healthy sheen as they moved energetically; they thrust their pelvises in time with the beat, and when they did, with no sign of hair anywhere near, Ellen could see their slits in full; could see their openings, could see their arousal spilling free.

They raised their arms, and made their breasts bounce and jiggle; they twisted their bodies and stood in place— they went into squats— making their pussies bulge out— they turned and squatted again, making their asses come forward. They seemed intwined within the wordless music, moving perfectly to it, making it seem like it was an emotion that they were feeling, and not something external and separate from them at all.

They looked at each other as they danced— sometimes stepped around each other, or danced back to back— naked back pressed into naked back, moving as one. None of them had any shame— they were dancing with their own sisters, but not one of them seemed to care that this was the case, that they were all naked together and moving in such a lustfully suggestive way— the dancing might even have been turning them on more.

Ellen left them— a glance back over her shoulder told her they were willing to keep dancing just as dirtily whether she was sitting there and perusing them or not. Ellen couldn’t stand to be apart from them for long, she found, so she put a bit more of a racing momentum into her steps, and was quick to get to the kitchen.

She found an empty wine bottle there, upended it over the sink to make sure there was no further liquid left inside that needed getting out, and then wine bottle in hand, she made quick progress through the house back to the front room, where her women were still dancing.

“That’s enough,” she told them. “Stop now. We’re going to play spin the bottle.”

Ellen had never played spin the bottle before. She only knew what she knew about it because she’d gleaned it out of pop culture. She was going to do now what she hadn’t done then, when she’d been eighteen years old herself. It felt a bit healing to things inside of her which she’d shoved into the cupboard all that time ago— more than once, she’d imagined the other eighteen-year-old blonde cheerleaders playing this game together, and been uncertain what do with how turned on that fantasizing had made an eighteen-year-old her.

But she could actually be a part of that visualized narrative now. She sat down, crosslegged on the floor— she was the only one still wearing clothes, and that gave her an increased feeling of power. She set the bottle in front herself, and the triplets sat around it, forming a four-sided square around where she was already sitting.

Once they were sitting, Alena reached for the bottle. “I’ll go first,” she said, and gave the bottle a firm spin.

It landed, pointing at Alana, and neither triplet blinked. They walked on their hands to meet over the bottle, pressing a quick kiss into existence between their mouths. Then Alana spun— the bottle, after going around three times, was aimed at Alexa— and Alexa came to her, and kissed her lightly. None of them had so much at hesitated.

It was Ellen’s turn, then, and she spun, and got Alana— she gave her a light kiss on the lips— then Alena spun, and got Ellen; so Ellen spun again, and got Alexa. She was happy with this streak of luck— she’d gotten to see each sister kiss another, and then she’d gotten to kiss each of them herself. Then Alexa spun, the bottle rotated again and again, and landed on Alena. The two of them kissed, brief as the rest of the kisses had been so far. Ellen rejoiced in the image— two beautiful faces meeting at the lips.

The kisses with the triplets had been nice, but they hadn’t been deep enough— Ellen was craving a more intense kiss— all of that had been like a preview that had just gotten her worked up— it left her wanting resolution.

She spun the bottle again, and it pointed to Alana this time. Ellen didn’t want a peck. When Alana was in range, Ellen took hold of the back of her head, opened her mouth around the kiss and put her tongue forward, flicking it over Alana’s again, and again— they kissed this way for a good five minutes. And when Alexa broke away, spun it, and got Alena, the two of them kissed in the way that Ellen had modeled. So good at obeying they could discern orders from out of indirect actions; Ellen was impressed, and more than a little turned on from watching Alana and Alena french each other— then watching Alena and Alexa french each other.

Then she was frenching Alena herself, making out heavily with her— and she still wanted more. Her hands came up to Alena’s breasts again. Ellen remembered how responsive Alena’s nipples had been to licked fingers— she played with them again, tweaking them between fingers, then resting her palms against them and moving them in circles, feeling them bud and then debud and then bud again to her stimulation.

Then she was groping Alena’s breasts, working them hard, squeezing, twisting, gathering them and releasing them— Alena was copying her, and doing the same to her breasts. Then when the triplets played again, they weren’t only making out— but whichever two of them the bottle put together were now also lavishing attention on each other’s breasts, working them, kneading them— pumping them within their grips, squeezing and releasing.

Ellen felt all the arousal was going to her head. She was flushed hot, now, and it was making it so hard to think about anything apart from how sexy this all was. She watched Alexa and Alena play together.

Seeing them kiss, and manipulate each others bodies made her eager to touch one of the three of them again— eager to feel one of their tongues in her mouth. She wished there were three of her— so she could be kissing all of them at once, touching all of them at once. Her desire for them was so immense that, if she could have, she would willingly have been kissing and fondling each of them in unison. But sadly it wasn’t possible.

The bottle spun again, connecting Alana and Ellen to each other again; after watching the triplets kiss and play with each other a few times, she appreciated the feel of Alana’s body even more— feeling it against her mouth, feeling it under her hands— she was lost in her body, following one feeling to the next, overcome by her bodily urges. Kissing and touching Alana turned her on further— watching the triplets kissing and touching each other turned her on further.

The bottle aimed away from her again, connecting sister to sister, leaving one sister free to watch— Ellen watched greedily. There was such a natural ease in the way they all kissed each other— such a natural ease in the way they touched each other.

Just from how they acted around each other, just from the way each of their bodies rested when they were around each other, Ellen could tell a lot. Any sisterly inhibition was long gone. It seemed now that the three of them were lovers just as much as they were sisters; there was an unspoken history of experience written in their body language that Ellen could easily read.

Just the way they moved together— the way they touched. It gave away the fact that they had had sex together many times. They had either started sexing each other six weeks ago, when they had been selected— or perhaps the post-secondary institution that had trained them had started them off doing this on their first day of classes, when the three of them had been eighteen themselves.

This was more arousing for Ellen— their sexual histories together were so obvious to her observation; each triplet clearly knew all the tricks of pleasing the others; knew the secret places they liked to be touched and the ways they liked to feel when it happened. Had that knowledge of each other’s bodies only lovers could have— they must have fucked each other tens of dozens of times; enough for it to be a frequent occurrence.

And yet, Ellen was sure this hadn’t been something they’d always done. They hadn’t spent their whole lives like this— hadn’t grown up doing this. It had only been since they were young adults, maybe— or since they had graduated from post-secondary— or since they had been recruited as potential candidates for the firm?

It was impossible to know the definitive answer. But something had changed them— from normal sisters who would have been disgusted at the thought of touching each other romantically, let alone sexually, to beasts ruled by their perverse, base desires. They had no further cares for the societal taboo around incest— they had no further cares for the societal taboo around nudity and exposing themselves in front of siblings or strangers.

Looking at them again, Ellen thought it couldn’t have been longer than six months since they’d started fucking each other— maybe it had only been three. That made their sexual histories with each other more impressive. In that condensed period of time, they had fucked each other those tens of dozens of times Ellen had noticed before.

That had taken commitment— and determination. Now they were clearly old lovers, though it had maybe only been months that they’d actually been together.

Ellen was thinking of the key again— the key that had unlocked each of their minds. Whoever had unlocked them had trained them— they had trained all caring for societal taboos out of them. Maybe they had even been the ones to prompt them to fuck each other— maybe that fucking had been a scheduled part of the training. Ellen felt her arousal increasing, imagining each of her beautiful women being indoctrinated, forced to fuck each other, and then made to want it. Their comfort level revealed this had happened long ago, now.

Ellen’s hand reached once more for the bottle. It was muscle memory, because she’d already spun it so many times that night. There was a new association in her mind in spinning it now. So much intensive kissing, so much feeling with her hands, so much feeling hands on her— the moment of waiting for the bottle to come to a stop was a thoroughly exciting one.

It went along with all the kinds of pleasure she’d been feeling, and those positive emotions spilled back onto it. In the moment of the situation being unknown, she was full of excitement and happiness. The pointing of the bottle had led to all this kissing, all this touching and being touched— this time, when it had finished spinning, it would surely lead to something good too.

It went around once— then twice— three times— she had really put a good force of motion into the turn of her wrist. It was only on the fourth spin that it started to decelerate, and the fifth time was when it came to halting. It was pointing directly at Alexa, and Ellen leaned forward from her kneeling, getting onto the palms of her hands, ready to handwalk her way across the floor to reach Alexa.

But Ellen paused, only half-walked across the way. They’d done multiple rounds of kissing, and handling each other. Suddenly, in her heart, she was wanting something more than that. Wishing for something else. She eased back onto her haunches instead.

She wasn’t thinking so much now. She had been that way before; someone who could never stop thinking. She had run her life out of her head. It had never been about her body, or about impulse. But now she was running only on impulse. The triplets had brought this out of her; all their stimulation, and her stimulation of them had brought this out of her. She had fallen back on her haunches, but now she rose up fully onto her knees, and then traded this for a crouching on her feet— getting up on her knees first made it easier to get her feet under her. Then, still crouching, she reached for the waist of her pants and pulled at it, pulling down. It took her a moment to maneuver the thing down, especially as her body was crouched onto itself. Down— down— she got her pants into a bunch of fabric around her feet.

If they would be creased from this later, it would be her concubines who would iron them flat— that wouldn’t be her problem anymore. She got the pool of cloth to her feet, and crouchstepped out of them— next she worked down her underwear, and stepped out of them too. She took her feet out from under her, and returned to kneeling. She put one leg out to kick her pilediscarded clothes away from her with just one foot, pinning that cloth to the ground and sliding it forgotten, elsewhere in the room.

Ellen could feel the air touching her body everywhere. She was naked now; she looked to each of her concubines, Alexa, Alana, Alena. They were each of them naked in just the same way she was. She’d been fully or partially clothed while they had stayed in their nakedness; but now she was finally brought down to the same level as them.

They could look at her body and see how aroused she was; just as she could look at their bodies, and see how aroused they were. Each set of nipples on the three of them were tightly budded; and their hairless pussies were visibly running arousal. And as each of the three of them kneeled like she kneeled, their bodies trembled.

Arousal must have been stored in each of their muscles, bodily shaking them, tremoring everywhere. Just barely perceptibly tensing and untensing. They were waiting for her; Alexa was waiting for the bottleend’s arrival in her direction to mean something; Alena and Alana were waiting to watch this meaning unfold.

But Ellen was savoring kneeling where she was— just for a minute. She might have looked the same as them; but her body wasn’t trembling. And she wasn’t waiting; she was the one who would determine the outcome here, and they would all respond to her determination. She was the one who would act. She was naked like they were now, but still above them all. They served her. She would always hold power over them, dressed or no.

What she had lived before this moment, kneeling here, was still in her body. She could feel it there. The memory of kissing each of the triplets, fully with her tongue— feeling their tongues back. The sensation of their hands on her chest; pairs of hands touching at once while two tongues worked together. That was why she was naked from the chest up; she didn’t remember which triplet had lifted her shirt from her body, or which had undone her bra.

She knew it had been two different ones— but which two of the three had done either, she couldn’t now remember. Each of them had been eager to get to her breasts, to feel them naked— though the first had been content to stop at her bra, and just feel that, then the second had followed on from this decision. They had not asked, and she had not ordered— she had only given them a light moan of assent to show them she wanted her shirt off, then wanted her bra off.

And all that arousal was still stored in her body. The sense memory of hands moving on her breasts, twisting nipples, rolling them; fisting in sensitive flesh. Her own hands glowed with the memory of doing the same to whichever triplet had been in front of her. She was so turned on she was glad to have taken a moment in pause. What happened next would further arouse her— unbearably so, maybe. She breathed, in preparation.

Now at last, propelled forward by all the lust that was inside her, Ellen reached out for Alexa, shifting her body forward to be in range of her. Alexa ducked in, letting herself come within length of reach, and Ellen put a hand on her head. She was kneeling with her legs apart, and with the hand forcefully placed on Alexa’s scalp, Ellen pressed down, shoving Alexa’s head in the direction of her crotch.

Alexa took the cue so intuitively, as each of the triplets always did: she dove for the crotch that had been offered to her, and which was opened for access by the manner of Ellen’s sitting.

But as Ellen watched Alexa lowering her head down, already prone before her, her eyes slipped past her to look at her own crotch, and for the first time that day, she felt a pang. Her crotch was a mess; she had no shame in admitting that. There was no reluctance, there was no hesitance, no desire to protest. She knew that it was; all the hair was unkempt, wild and curling, out of control and overgrown.

This didn’t seem to deter Alexa— she knew what she was heading for, it was her entire field of vision in that position, but Ellen still felt disappointed in herself. Maybe her crotch didn’t need to be as hairless as the triplets’ but she still should have done something to maintain it a little; some trimming at least. She hadn’t done even that.

What Ellen did, when she was in the mood to deal with her pubic hair at all, was to go and get it waxed. She generally tried to go on a semi-regular basis, just to keep things manageable down there. Her last appointment had been a few months ago; so if Ellen had been on her game, she would have already gone back and gotten rewaxed sometime in the last few weeks.

But things had just been so busy at the firm; she’d been working hard, even by her own overworked standards, and she had never wanted to spare either the energy or the time to call and book appointment, let alone to go in and get waxed. It had been one of those things that she’d just put off... and off...

That was before she’d had the triplets, too. When there had been no one in her life either as a romantic or a sexual prospect. In Ellen’s old life, even when she had gotten herself waxed, she was the only one to ever actually see herself, and see the benefits of the waxing. It just hadn’t seemed to merit the effort. Why take the time to look good just for herself? She’d felt no guilt about pushing it.

Now she wished she hadn’t— she should have gone, she should have done it before. That way it would already be done by now, for the time she actually needed it. Her past self had failed her, disappointing her present.

She’d just never imagined an evening like this could actually happen in her life. She was used to being single; she was used to having an absence of sexual partners. But the triplets were her concubines now— all for her, and she couldn’t even give them a waxed crotch to lick and nuzzle into.

This had all just been so unexpected; there had been no way to see into the future, to know this would happen. If there had been some such way, all Ellen’s decisions would have been different. Now that she thought of it, she did have a waxing session booked a month or two out. But if somehow she’d been aware that she’d be taking three triplet sisters home with her to fuck, she would have called and reschedule that months-out appointment for sometime this week. Sometime before today— then she would actually match up to the experience unfolding currently. She would look like she belonged in it.

Yet the way the other two triplets looked at her— the way Alexa was ducking her head down, unbothered by the mess she saw immediately ahead of her, this implied belonging too. None of them were thinking Ellen didn’t belong, or she was out of place because she was so badly kept. All of them approached her as if she was the most important, most worthy thing— the one thing present whose presence was completely beyond any questioning. And their attitude was a little comforting to her, after all.

Alexa had reached Ellen’s crotch, and Ellen could feel Alexa’s breath ghosting over her sensitive genitalflesh. And then she felt Alexa’s tongue come out, and lick around her clit once.

Ellen hadn’t been one who was much even for masturbating— she knew where everything was, but she’d rarely had the interest. Immediately, she felt a flare-up of lust; whitehot, and Alexa only kept licking. She liked over Ellen’s clitoris again and again— then she liked down Ellen’s slit, thrust her tongue inside Ellen’s opening. Then licked up one of Ellen’s vaginal lips— then licked down her other.

Ellen was having a hard time keeping track of exactly where Alexa’s tongue was because the trails of saliva she left felt even more sensitive to the air as they were cooling; Alexa had every part of Ellen’s lower erogenous zone tingling in pleasure, and Ellen felt herself clenching involuntarily— and at random intervals.

Alexa had licked her way around but now she seemed to like Ellen’s middle stripe— from opening to swirl around her clit, then back down, then back up. She was licking her fast, along that same line, time repeating. She clearly didn’t care about the pubic hair that brushed her face or forehead.

There was nothing delaying her, there was no pause— she was only eager to deliver Ellen to an orgasm, and Ellen felt that orgasm coming on, rising up in her, everything inside shivering as much as everything outside tingled. Alexa’s tongue passed clit— Ellen came.

Alexa had gotten her to come, and this success merited, in Ellen’s mind, the chance to spin again. She waved her on with a loose hand, her head still feeling like it was the thing that was spinning.

Alexa took hold of the bottle and spun it— this time it arrived on Alana. But Ellen felt like she was making a slow recovery. Her thinking, her processing was fluid and drifting. She couldn’t hold her attention on something; there was a warm glowing after circulating through her body, and that was taking the majority of her focus; she felt so satisfied, like she’d enjoyed a truly sensuous feast— not of food, but of physical sensation.

The watching, the touching, the kissing; all of that had been erotic before now, but this was the first real release of the night. The first time Ellen’s cravings were completely fulfilled, and she was so filled up on this, she felt she could almost curl up and fall asleep.

She was only paying half-attention to what was going on around her— by random luck, as could sometimes happen in games of chance like this, the bottle went a few rounds without ever pointing at her. The triplets were spinning the bottle between themselves for now, at least until the luck changed up and fell on Ellen again. She didn’t mind temporary exclusion; she still felt a bit thrown from coming so well.

She was glad that the game was continuing, though. It was fun. Ellen was still never paying more than half-attention; but it was clear to her, from the little that she was able to glean, that the triplets had followed her cue. She had moved the game from kissing the top set of lips to kissing the lower set; and the triplets were playing it in this continuing way; they spun, and when the bottle aimed out its target, the spinner lowered their head to the crotch of the other, and licked impatiently. Impatiently, and with great skill— until the one being licked had their orgasm; and then it was their turn to spin; and then they were the one to lick.

There was as much fervor in this new round of kissing as in the last; the licker looked always as though they were eagerly frenching against the crotch they’d been presented with; it all seemed a hazy montage of licking and being licked; of higher lips touching lower lips, pulling, sucking, kissing— and tongues coming out to lick the rest of the time.

The sounds and smells of it were pleasing too; all the triplets were quite vocal when they were being eaten this way, and vocal and sloppy when they were the ones who were doing the eating. Ellen liked listening to them moan; and she liked hearing the sound of lips slapping against lips, though the sets of lips were now mismatched pairs; she could take it in at a distance, and let herself keep floating along hazily.

But Ellen decided to pay more attention. She dragged herself back from the happy exhaustion that came with rushing so much of her pleasure out of her— and watched what was actually happening in front of her.

Alena had clearly been the last one to spin the bottle; the bottle was spinning now, but Alena was bringing her hand back to her side, so she had clearly been the one who had turned it. Ellen’s eyes followed the bottle going around; and it finally pointed to Alana. Alena approached her with no reluctance, and Ellen felt an imposing strike of pleasure hitting inside her body; Alena was Alana’s sister, the three of them were all sisters to each other, yet not one of them balked at the thought of stuffing their face between the legs of a sister and licking for all they had.

Alena was doing this just now: she had gotten herself in place, and she was ravenously eating at her own sister’s cunt, licking and swallowing and slurping and licking and kissing some more. For a moment, Ellen felt this was a show that was being put on just for her own enjoyment; her eyes drank in the sight; Alana’s head tilted back; her arms, which supported her sitting up, were shaking. Each of the triplets seemed to be getting more worked up all the time, because almost before Ellen had been expecting it, Alana was shuddering in orgasm; Alena licked her through the last of it.

Having successfully brought Alana to orgasm, Alena sat back in her place, and Alana, clearly still recovering but not wanting to hold up the game, leaned forward and spun the bottle herself. Finally luck brought Ellen back into the game: this time the bottle had arrived at her, but when Alana moved to come towards Ellen, Ellen shook her head.

She wasn’t bound as tightly by the rules as the triplets were. She was the one who decided what the rules were; and she’d been licked out once already. She’d never yet tasted a woman’s vagina on her own tongue, had the pleasure of being the one licking, and she wanted to fix that right now.

Alana had stopped crawling forward when Ellen had shook her head. Ellen crawled to her instead, and she felt a little gleefully wicked, thinking how sensitive and stimulated Alana already was from her last orgasm; that it might even hurt her a little to have to take a second one so quickly after a first. But that she would do it anyway, for Ellen; Ellen appreciated Alana’s devotion as she shook while Ellen licked her. Tasted her. Savored.

She wondered if Alana’s taste was different from Alena’s, if Alena’s was different from Alexa’s. She’d find out eventually, maybe even soon. But she was licking now what Alena had already licked; kissing and sucking; she’d never dreamed she’d get to eat at woman like this; this was greater luck even than the arbitrary luck of the bottle game.

Ellen lost herself in the licking almost immediately; the feeling of her tongue going repeatingly. The softness of Alana’s folds yielding to her tonguely intrusion; this was the kind of thing she hadn’t even let herself think about, once, and now here she was doing it. Tasting the deliciousness of what Alana’s body could put out, drawing her scent in deep, stroking Alana sometimes with the tip of her nose, too, since her entire face was so close to her.

And Alana was bucking and crying out; Ellen had probably made her come already, but she wasn’t ready to stop licking yet. She’d barely started, but already Alana was coming. It felt like only seconds had passed; a minute at the most; Alana had been so ready and primed after coming for Alena before.

Maybe Alena had done most of the work for this; but Ellen was happy to reap the rewards others had put in place for her. She licked— she licked— she’d barely had to start, barely had to be doing this any length of time at all to know she wanted to keep doing this. She was lost in the feeling of her tongue moving again, the taste that was sitting on it because she never drew her tongue away, not even for a moment. Maybe she could make Alana come a third time; the game had paused with her; the bottle wouldn’t spin again unless she retreated. And she was still licking her way into Alana.

But it was clear to her; it didn’t matter that she’d barely been licking for any amount of time at all, and it didn’t matter that Alana may already have been coming violently. This feedback only made it clearer; the licking she was doing was not enough. The game of spin the bottle had not been enough. She could feel the truth of this in the way her whole body craved for more; the way her mouth wanted to keep moving, wanted to lick.

She didn’t have to wonder at all because it had been so clearly demonstrated to her. She wanted this. She wanted to be here, in this, and nowhere else, and she didn’t want what she was holding onto so desperately to be taken away from her and pulled out of her hands; and that meant she wanted things to continue just the way they had been. She wanted to lick and to find pleasure in this and leave the game behind herself.

She wanted to stop all the triplets and make them wait for her; make Alana wait for the licking being done to her to finish, but also make Alena and Alexa to wait for Alana’s turn to be over. She was holding them all up; she wanted to be. Ellen licked Alana harder, perfectly understanding herself in the moment she was doing it. She was making everything wait and holding on as fiercely as she could do it. She was feeing fine about it.

Maybe this was just who Ellen fundamentally was, on her base level; if someone other than her had been here, maybe that person would have been satisfied with less. Would have been satisfied with driving Alana to only her second orgasm, and then pulling away, and letting the game continue.

Maybe there was something in Ellen, some way in which she shouldn’t but she did— that she was never satisfied, and kept craving and craving more. Some way in which, once she was feeling, experiencing, tasting, she couldn’t let go of it and call it finished. Call it sufficient. Because she was Ellen, she had to keep going; otherwise it wouldn’t have been so.

She accepted the truth of this; her eyes were closed, lost in the licking, but abstractly— look at the triplets, they found what was happening to be sufficient. Not one of the three of them had tried to push for more, or to hold on to something longer than it should reasonably held. Each of them had been contented; to french until Ellen was the one to escalate; to play the game fairly, only eating until orgasm, once she had; she was the one to have stopped everything up.

And yet how satisfying it was, what a relief, to finally find that she had a place in her life where she could keep taking when it still hadn’t been enough. A place in her life where the game waited for her, and waited on her terms.

It was turning Ellen on to lick; and she was planning to keep licking. But her own vagina was crying out for attention. There was a solution easier than manually stimulating herself. She kept licking, but reached up with her hands, her eyes still closed— she took hold of Alana’s body and directed her. And Alana almost immediately understood; she moved herself around. She kept her crotch to Ellen’s face, but brought her own face to Ellen’s crotch.

And so now they were licking each other; licking each other and being licked at the same time. This was perfect; Ellen was glad she had kept striving for more. She had raised things to an entirely other level. This was more intense; this was more significant. She could lick as hard as she wanted, and take flavor in, while simultaneously feeling a skilled slave’s tongue working in her.

She and Alana were thrusting their crotches together in time onto the tongues that licked into them, as they lay side by side on the floor, end to opposite end. Ellen was coming; and then Alana was coming; but even though the sensitivity following this was overwhelming, Ellen kept licking through it. And she tolerated Alana doing the same to her. — But it felt good! She ached, and clenched, and it felt good, and her face was smeared in Alana, and Alana was smeared in her, and they kept licking; her jaw was starting to get a little sore. She still didn’t stop.

What would happen to follow this? Ellen didn’t want to stop and find out; she didn’t want to pull either her face or her crotch away to make the discovery. Her crotch— starting to feel like a second face, the way her lips there felt like second lips; she was clinging to this moment and not wanting it to pass. For now, she was in a loop; Alana wouldn’t be the one to stoop this looping. Only Ellen could do that. Alana would lick unceasingly until she felt Ellen shift away; she would only stop once Ellen had already done so. The entire game came down to this loop— and— after? What after?

Ellen licked; but she really was getting sore, and she’d come once already. Her sensitivity this time was not shifting into a renewed orgasm that followed; it was just sitting flat. So maybe it had been enough. Maybe now it would have to be.

Ellen pushed Alana back, and sat up. She retook her place in the circle, as Alana seemed to struggle getting back to sitting herself.

There was a second, while Alana was still raising herself, where Ellen felt the uncertainty of the moment painfully. And— now? What? What was coming, what would it mean when it was here? What would she see happen? What would the game do now that it wasn’t caught in the loop, taken down to the looping place where Ellen had dragged it? Nothing was moving forward; Alana alone moved.

Then Alana sat up, and there was no more mystery. She reached for the bottle and spun it again. Ellen had been the thing that had stopped the game and now she had been the thing to restart it. The bottle went around three times, and then it pointed itself at Alexa; and Alana moved to Alexa’s crotch; but this time, simultaneously, Alexa moved for Alana’s.

This felt even dirtier to watch than when one sister had eaten out a second that just sat there and took it. Now two sisters were eating as they were eaten back, and they moved completely symbiotically. The game had changed because Ellen had rewritten its rules once again. It was directly because of Ellen licking at Alana long enough to be inspired, and then to make the change; now Alana and Alexa mutually ate each other out, and when both had achieved orgasm, as per the rules of fairplay, they each disengaged, and Alexa spun the bottle next.

Ellen found herself in another streak of bad luck. The bottle’s neck wasn’t favoring her; it kept pairing triplet to triplet. This happened two more times; two triplets eating each other out in unison.

Ellen was the only one who could cheat; she could insert herself, and force a decided luck on the game. But she watched sister eat sister and get eaten in return; yet another round, one mutual orgasm, the turn of the next player; a new round began, and played out.

But now the game was starting to go wrong. The triplets were seemingly becoming more affected with each succeeding orgasm they shared two at a time. Now it was enough for the first spin of the bottle to point at someone; and then the watching triplet pounced for them, inadvertently kicking the bottle out of the center.

This was how Ellen got dragged back into the game; the bottle was passing her, but Alena had already seen it momentarily point her out, and Alena pounced; and then Alena was eating her and she was eating Alena, and it went too long, and the other two triplets were leaning in to see, to watch so closely; invading the space around the two active participants. Then Ellen had to fetch the bottle back from where it had been kicked to.

She played properly, but the triplets all seemed to be going feral, losing control. They were becoming further consumed with lust as the game went on. They pounced on each other, pounced on Ellen, almost seemed to forget about the bottle entirely. Things were spinning away from the game they had been playing. Whatever this situation was now, it was transforming; it was transitional. It was about the triplets getting worked up almost instantly and advancing towards the people they desired; each other; and Ellen.

All four of them had become more impatient, spurred on by their lust. None of them could wait for the bottle to spin; none of them were satisfied with only kissing and touching one person at a time. The triplets at least had an excuse— they had been designed for this, trained for this, intended for this.

Ellen had no such excuse— she was their mistress, but she was feeling as driven out of her mind with lust as they were behaving. The actions all of them were taking spiraled down; they were a devolution from thinking, from reasoning, out towards being controled by unthinking forces; the bottle was kicked out of the way, and their four bodies were together— Ellen loved being lost in a pile with them— never quite sure who she was touching because her eyes were closed.

But hearing kissing happening— seeing kissing happening— feeling it happening on her body; sometimes the triplets were kissing each other in pairs; sometimes the three of them kissed each other only and she was just lying close to them; sometimes, the three of them were kissing her at the same time.

Sometimes pairs of the four of them were kissing; hands accompanied everything that happened, manipulating bodies, bodies being manipulated. And ever the arousal the four of them were sharing increased to a greater height. Ellen thought she must be in heaven— this was the kind of thing she had never dared to let herself dream in her life before.

And Ellen didn’t mind that she wasn’t the controling force in the game anymore. They would stop and listen if told; she was letting this take place.

The bottle was completely forgotten.

In the last spin it had given, Alena had been directed to Alexa; but Alexa had apparently been so overcome by this she’d forgotten to turn back and reach herself towards Alena; she was lying out in a different direction, coming nowhere near to reaching Alena; and Alana was close; and Alena was looking at Alana’s crotch and licking her lips; Alana didn’t put anymore thought into it, and then she had moved her crotch to Alana’s face.

So all three triplets were at last connected: Alena ate at Alexa, Alexa ate at Alana; and Alana was looking imploringly at Ellen; through Alana, Ellen realized she could be connected back to the others; the square they had all been sitting in had shrunk inwards, and now was closer to a circle, rounding link to link.

Ellen let Alana between her legs; and if Ellen shifted just a bit further forward, she would be able to reach Alena, and close the circle, making the four of them a rounded chain instead. Enjoying the way Alana felt between her legs, Ellen shifted herself to get her face between Alena’s legs; and she licked as she was licked. She licked Alena, knew Alena licked Alexa, that Alexa licked Alana, and that Alana licked her. This wasn’t a game anymore; it felt like something more important. They changed configuration of the chain a few times before settling on a combination; but each gave to the next, took from the last.

She wasn’t sure how it happened— somehow, the four of them had progressed from kissing and moving and stroking together. They had progressed down, to find themselves each between the thighs of another. Ellen opened her eyes— the four of them were making a chain, sprawled around on the floor, circling back to each other. Her mouth was in Alexa’s pussy— Alexa’s mouth was in Alana’s, and Alana’s was in Alena’s— then Alena’s was in Ellen’s.

All of them were moving and working their mouths as they felt mouths moving and working on their clits— Ellen remembered she was mistress, but just barely— all of this was about sex, and it wasn’t about thought. At this particular moment, she didn’t want to be above them. She had enjoyed her power over them before, would enjoy it again, but for just this moment, it was enough to eat and suckle at a delicious pussy while her own was receiving the same treatment.

She licked at Alexa more desperately, begging her body to give up its secrets with her mouth— she felt Alena licking at her like she was giving worship. Alexa’s and Alana’s licking to their sister next over, respectively, was no less enthusiastic than Alena’s— neither cared they were eating out a sister, or that they were getting eaten by one.

Once again Ellen was confronted with how thoroughly their minds had been stripped of taboos. Even in a sexy nonthinking haze, she could recognize the appeal of that.

She lost count of her number of orgasms — but when she felt she just couldn’t take the pleasure anymore, she pulled away from the chain of women she had been a link within. She hadn’t only stopped to buy a CD on the way home— she moved quickly, out into the other room, looking for the bag she’d left in the hall.

There was a strap-on inside of it.

The salesperson had explained to her how to put it on, and how to clean it; the cleaning she would make her concubines do in general, but she could put it on herself. It really was as easy as she’d been told— and when she re-entered the front room, it was that strap-on jutting out proudly from between her legs.

“Stop,” she told them. “Stand at attention for me again.”

With no delay, all three of them stood.

She only left Alana standing for a moment— then she took her by the hands, and dragged her back down to the floor. She rocked the strap-on through Alana’s wetness— there was so much of it. It was the simplest thing of all to slip that strap right into Alana’s pussy, and push it deep— she felt she was claiming Alana’s hole with every thrust that she made.

But she wanted to claim Alana’s body fully. Just her pussy wasn’t enough. She fucked inside her for a while, until she was sure she’d gotten her strap as wet as she’d could— and until she was sure she’d made Alana come more than once. Then she dragged her strap slowly back out, and rolled Alana on her stomach. She was going to claim her ass too.

She set the tip of the strap at her puckered back entrance— it was streaked with Alana’s own arousal, and Alana was incredibly turned on, clearly.

But she was still tight.

“Looser,” Ellen told her. “Get looser for me.” She was surprised that this instruction worked— she literally saw Alana flowering open, and she was able to get the tip of her strap into her. Ellen started the rocking motion again, but as she rocked, she kept murmuring “Looser, Alana— Looser—” and then Alana’s asshole had to open wider; until finally she had the strap all the way inside her.

When she pulled it out, she made Alana lick it completely clean of everything— both Alena and Alexa were trembling as they stood watching.

Alana left to stand, but Ellen brought Alena down and did the same thing with her that she’d just done to Alana. She was systematically fucking her way through the three of them, and she would do the same to each one she’d just done to Alana. She fucked Alena’s pussy first, getting completely through the whole thing, then took her ass in the same coaxing way. Alena licked the strap clean again, and finally Ellen brought Alexa down and did the same to her.

The night went on, and so did the sex.

Months had passed; it was yet again another weekday which had turned into evening, and Ellen was, again, sitting on the couch in her front room.

She liked that room best— the rest of the rooms in her house had too much furniture in them, simple furniture though it might have been. At the time she’d decorated the house, she’d hired an outside professional and let them bring the things around her to the standard they ought to be at. She’d hired an interior decorator, to good outcome. The thing she’d paid to have beautified had been beautified.

That had been far back in time now— when she’d first bought this house, when she’d become a junior attorney. And she appreciated that her house, and all the rooms in it, was everything she needed to be. But she liked being in the frontroom most, because there were no distractions there. Just the very comfortable couch to sit on.

She had used to sit on the couch and look out the window. Now when she sat on it, she was usually looking at something else; the triplets who followed her everywhere she went. She had fucked the three of them in every room of her house since they had first come to her. But maybe she was sentimental— it always felt just a little bit more special to have them in this room. Something about the fact that this had been the first place she’d ever touched them, the first place she’d ever fucked them.

She’d had them all these past few months, and she hadn’t gotten tired of them. If anything, she was even more desperate for them now; she asked them to do everything for her, and when she was home with them, she couldn’t stop herself touching them, pleasuring them, forcing them to pleasure her. The way they melted, the way any will they had inside of themselves seemed to wilt— each time she saw that happen when she gave them an order, she liked them even more. She couldn’t imagine her life without them now, and could barely remember how things had been before.

She was not the woman she’d been when she was a junior attorney— gone was the shrinking, insecure thing— and the cupboard she’d once kept so much in was now empty, with a door that was permanently open. She never even thought of hesitating with her concubines, never questioned what she did with them. All of it felt like the most natural thing to her now.

So the triplets moving in to Ellen’s house was a hugely positive thing for her. She valued their presence around the office just as much; in so many ways, they made her life better. But having them move in with her, actually move in with her— this was a special thing all its own.

Ellen had lived so long alone; so long without romantic or sexual companionship. And suddenly, with the arrival of the triplets, there was so much of it; not just one partner, but three, all at once, giving her support during the day, and giving her extensive love during the night; it had been months now, since the triplets had become hers. But still Ellen woke up in the morning amazed to find the triplets were there with her in her bed; she’d bought a king-size bed and moved it into her bedroom so there would be room for all four of them to sleep together; sometimes in a heap that had just fallen together after a long, enjoyable night, sometimes all in a row if they’d gone to sleep and done their loving somewhere else.

Ellen treasured their presence every day; and she was used to it; but she still marveled at it; still felt amazement sometimes when she truly stopped to reflect on the fact that the triplets were with her now, and living with her too. She loved each one of them, and they more than loved her back; loved her more than she did them.

But the triplets moving in hadn’t been without its logistical difficulties. She’d never seriously considered selling house and moving elsewhere; she’d put a lot of money into buying her house, and was at the point where she owned it entirely. It wasn’t something she’d just wanted to let go of.

But having the triplets there had meant doing extensive renovations; making it so things done and said in the house couldn’t be heard outside; making it so there was almost no window that gave private views.

Each window now had a slat of paneling that could be pulled behind it, making it impossible for anything to be seen but that sliding paneling which had been pulled into place. It was easiest just to leave all the windows more or less barricaded in this way, so no delays had to happen for the windows to be blocked off. But this had meant redoing a lot of the lighting too; so that with no windows providing natural light, the interiors of Ellen’s house were still pleasingly lit, and not too austere, nor too depressing.

All the renovations had very much boosted the overall privacy of Ellen’s residence, and she felt much more at home in it. All of this work, since being completed, had made it possible for Ellen and the triplets to do their out of office activities with no one prying into their business, taking looks at things they weren’t meant to see. Those renovations had been the right choice.

Ellen knew these renovations hadn’t gone unnoticed. She knew the house in its finished state didn’t go unnoticed either. When she was coming home, going up the walk from her car to her house, she often could hear her neighbors gossiping. None of them ever directly voiced their suspicions to her; but their voices always carried better than any of them thought they did.

Ellen knew they were curious; and Ellen knew her neighbors around her always noticed the triplets coming to and from her house. They wondered who they were; they wondered why it seemed they were now living with Ellen; why they only left and returned home in her company, unless they were going out on errands she didn’t accompany them for.

But these were only curiosities; none of Ellen’s neighbors had actually seen anything, and none of them had any kind of hard proof. She’d made sure it wasn’t possible for any of them to get any; if every single window on the house wasn’t sealed from sight from the inside, she knew her neighbors would have looked in; maybe they would even have taken pictures; the more obsessed ones, at least.

Then there would have been proof. But not one window on Ellen’s house offered a view inwards anymore. So there was nothing that any neighbour could prove. All they could do was wonder, and all they could do was gossip. They were harmless because Ellen had taken steps to insure they would be this way.

Ellen knew that no neighbor she had could ever successfully suggest that something shady, and unpleasant was taking place in her house. Certainly, they would be unable to make the case for anything nefarious taking place; anything that might damage Ellen’s reputation, or the reputation of her firm.

It was clear to every neighbor that Ellen had that something strange was going on. But none of them would bother with it, apart from gossiping for fun. Because each of could not actually prove that this strange something was taking place. And because, Ellen was pretty sure, they all thought that even if something was going on, it was something minor, and not worth the effort of actually investigating. Especially since Ellen had actively made such investigations nearly impossible, so difficult to actually undertake that any undertaker would abandon them early.

So Ellen didn’t mind letting her neighbors gossip. When she walked past them, with the triplets, or trailing in their wake, she smiled to herself when she heard that neighborly gossip. It was just a way for them to blow off steam, by now. An excuse for them to make conversation; a spot of color, of the unexplained in their drab day to day living. The triplets had been living here long enough by now, and the renovations had been complete for long enough by now, that each of Ellen’s neighbors must have accepted they would never actually find out the truth, or receive any kind of answer from her.

But really, Ellen didn’t spend much thinking about the neighbors. Apart from her law cases, she spent most of her time thinking about the triplets. They were always a cheerful mental distraction; also, frequently, a cheerful visual distraction. They did everything for her; she knew that everything they did was intended as a gift for her to enjoy. This was expressed in many ways; it was expressed also in the fitness routine the three of them adhered to. Each morning, they woke up early and left the king-size bed they all shared with her.

And they went down into the frontroom, put out their mats and practiced either yoga or Pilates, depending on the day; and when they practiced it, they practiced it completely nude. This kept their bodies in perfect shape; looking as good or even better than they had looked on the day that the triplets had officially become Ellen’s forever. She enjoyed their efforts when she was having sex with them; they were young twentytwo-year-old women, but this daily early morning exercise had them looking like they weren’t aging at all.

They also seemed able to just wake in the morning, the three of them at exactly the same time, without having to use any kind of alarm, so this never disturbed Ellen’s sleep. They woke. If they weren’t already naked, they got that way; then they exercised themselves. Ellen appreciated their doing this for her; she showed this in the pleasure she gave them later on.

But their exercise routine also had other benefits. It depended on the day; sometimes, Ellen stayed up too late working on briefs, and sometimes she was just too tired. But on nights when she went to bed feeling refreshed, she asked the triplets to wake her with them. Then she’d be awakened by gentle shaking, and she would follow them down to the frontroom; and she would watch their naked bodies take position on each mat, would watch them stretch and strain and pull and tense.

Their muscles were so nicely defined that it was a little bit of a thrill to see them tensing and untensing. Watching them become more toned was special, and watching them be naked was arousing. Sometimes, Ellen would just stand for a while, enjoying the view. She could get lost in the motion of her eyes sweeping over them, triplet to triplet, taking their bodies in as they became stronger.

But sometimes the benefits were greater than that; sometimes, Ellen would strip down herself, and join them in their exercise. It wasn’t toning her quite as much as it did them, because she wasn’t doing it nearly as regularly, but she was getting health benefits from it, and when the triplets noticed her joining in, they would go out of their way to give her encouragement, and to give her instruction. When they exercised without her, they were silent, internally knowing just how to move. But when she joined, they verbalized for her.

The triplets did more than Pilates and Yoga in the mornings to keep themselves fit; and in these further endeavors, Ellen never joined them. But the firm had a special office gym within its walls; a keycard was required to access it, and only partners and paralegals were permitted to use it; all the junior attorneys were kept out. Almost every day, the triplets used the gym. Particularly in the midday, they favored it.

They would go and get Ellen whatever she wanted for lunch; bring it to her, and then go down the hall to exercise. Of course, they always made sure Ellen had powered down her computer so she wouldn’t be working over her lunch hour, ensuring she’d be resting her mind instead for the afternoon ahead. And they would close her office door to make sure she was undisturbed.

Sometimes, if Ellen was tired enough after eating, she would move over to the small couch she kept in her office and spread out for a nap, trusting the triplets to wake her up when they got back. They always brought her delicious, hot lunches; whatever she was craving, even if they had to actually leave the building or taxi somewhere else to get it. They’d even place orders at really nice restaurants for takeout, and go over and fetch them. Ellen had never eaten so well before becoming partner, and her lunches always left her feeling full and satiated. Again, sometimes enough so that she could nap.

But Ellen wasn’t always reduced to needing a nap. On days where she still had energy after eating her lunch, and on days when she finished in plenty of time before the triplets came back, she would get up, leave her office, and go down to the gym, to watch the triplets run.

She liked watching them when they were doing their morning exercises; she liked watching them when they were doing their lunchtime exercise, too. She liked watching them really at any time; she was used to them, but she still thought they were amazing, and she liked to observe them for this reason.

Watching them workout over lunch was something other, though. The triplets always chose the treadmills; three treadmills that were in a row with each other; and they didn’t do this running naked. They wore tight spandex; spandex leggings that only came to the upper-calf of each leg; and tight sports-bras. And they looked attractive dressed this way, each one with their hair pulled back into a perky ponytail.

But what was amazing about watching them run was the way they moved in perfect synchronization with each other; their eyes fixed on the wall ahead of them, seeing nothing, and yet their bodies moving in parallel, not even a quarter of a second’s delay between any of them. It was easy for Ellen to fold her arms, and lean against the wall, and just watch them until they were done. They looked like they were in a synchronized race.

At the moment, Ellen was sitting, her legs apart, and holding a wineglass— she was sipping it very slowly. Only every so often would she raise it to her lips, and draw in more of what her glass contained. She’d been at it for hours, finding this a good time to reflect.

The thing that had been making it possible for Ellen to drink tonight was the bottle of wine that was sitting inside the kitchen, on the kitchen counter. There had been a time when Ellen had had to stop on the way home to grab a bottle of wine from the liquor store if she wanted wine to sip; a time when Ellen had to do all her own errands.

But that time wasn’t current anymore— now, every errand, every want she had was handled by the triplets. She never had to do a thing for herself. They served her sexually, but in all other ways too: life was much better having them around to take care of things.

It had been Alexa she’d asked to run to the liquor store to get that bottle today— and Alexa was so good at taking care of Ellen, like all of them were, that she knew Ellen’s favorite wine label without having to be told, and without having to ask. They’d all split up at the office— Ellen had told Alexa she wanted wine, and Alexa had gotten a look of furrowed determination on her face— then told Ellen she’d take her own cab home, and she had to make a stop on the way.

This had left Ellen, Alana and Alena to make the walk to Ellen’s car without Alexa. And once they’d reached the car, Alana had been the one to drive it; Ellen never drove herself anywhere anymore either.

She’d never liked driving that much anyway, and it felt better to let someone else handle it. That way she could make herself comfortable in the backseat— on days when she was particularly tired in morning or evening she could steal some minutes of sleep. Or if she was too horny to wait until they were home, she could mess around with whichever triplet was sitting next to her. She’d had the windows of her car tinted so no one unwanted would be able to see it happening.

The timing had worked out perfectly tonight— the cab had pulled ahead of them some streets back, and Alana had tailed it back to the house, all of them in the car laughing together about how Alexa was one car ahead of them— then Alexa was getting out of the car as they all were exiting, bottle of wine in her hand.

Ellen had been drinking from the bottle all night— she was glad her alcohol tolerance was what it was, because she was sure that the glass she held in her hand had finished the bottle— she’d drunk slowly, and every time her glass emptied, she’d stopped one of the triplets to go and refill it. It felt so pleasant to be waited on— she didn’t even pay stylists to make her presentable anymore. She just had the triplets do it as yet another unpaid task in their free time— and they were better than all the stylists Ellen had used before.

At present, Ellen’s mind was turning to her day at work, just as she was drawing more wine into her mouth from over the rim of her glass. It had been a long day. It had been a tiring day. In so many ways the pressures were off of her— at least it looked that way on the outside, might have looked that way on paper.

But the truth was, even with the triplets running her every errand, Ellen was working five times as hard as she’d ever worked. Sure, she wasn’t sleeping at the office anymore— she could come home, and she did, every night. She didn’t stay as late as she used to, but she was consistently at the office still until nine or ten at night— and leaving then was still early for her.

Her caseload had increased— and what she had thought were highprofile cases before, when she’d still been a junior attorney, were laughable in her memory now. What she worked on day by day— this was the truly highprofile stuff— and she received professional acclaim— but it was a long road there. She was still the one to meet with all her clients, to advise them— though the triplets were always there, taking copious notes. If she forgot anything, she could just ask them, and then they could tell her all the full details of the meeting.

And she was still the one who had to argue in court— the triplets were always there at her table, passing her papers and files she needed just as she needed them. And she was still the one who had to take the passable first drafts of her legal briefs from them and raise them to extraordinary.

And when she worked on those, with the triplets around her, doing research she sometimes drew on, they were there for her to throw ideas at— to witness her saying them outloud, to sound them out— to have an opinion on, if she asked them to do that. It was easier having them as helpers— but all they really did was enable her to work on a level that far surpassed any height she’d ever reached. Their presence only let her in for more work— and that was exciting, and that was rewarding, but it was also exhausting.

Still, their presence always comforted. And they were always thinking of her, taking care of her when she couldn’t care for herself. Sometimes, when she was truly overwhelmed, they would close her door for her, and help her to lie down on her office couch and sleep for a while, with a blanket pulled over her. She still didn’t really have a personal life— but in her isolation, she had the triplets. That was a personal life enough for her— they were her personal life. Fucking them, using them, being served by them. They were enough.

But today had been another grueling day. She was glad to see it come to an end.

Ellen sipped more wine slowly into her mouth once more. She could have been sitting and looking out the window, but she wasn’t. She hadn’t done that for a long time. There was almost always something she would rather be looking at— she often had the triplets pose in front of her, and watched them, their frolicking at her request. She didn’t only like this room for sentimental value.

When it came time to fuck, and satisfy her sexual urges, this room had the most space, since it had the least furniture— the most space to stand the three triplets in a row— the most space to sprawl them all out on the ground— the most space in general. Sometimes she made them dance for her again— she always enjoyed them doing that. But more often she just fucked them— in fact, she tended to leave a strap-on in here for this very reason.

She’d gotten to the point where she had a strap-on stashed somewhere in each room of the house. When she was in the mood to strap one of her women, she didn’t want to have to go running all through her home looking for the last place she’d left a solitary strap-on.

There was some variation in them— the one she kept in this room had a curved end. She didn’t have to buy her own strap-ons, either.

She trusted the triplets— she would trust them to save her life. She’d trusted others before them— but she trusted them the most of everyone she’d ever trusted, and they had never betrayed that trust. They’d only ever won more of it. When she asked them to do something for her, Ellen knew it would be done perfectly. Not one of them ever made a single mistake.

So when she had asked them to go to the sex shop, and choose the strap-on that she personally would enjoy using the most, that was what she’d gotten when they returned with one— they understood it was not about what they would most enjoy feeling inside their bodies— but what she would most enjoy sending into them. And that was what they’d brought her.

She had many cherished memories now— she understood the kinds of things that Marcus had been thinking of nostalgically when he had explained to her, Paul and Heather about the true nature of the paralegals. Because she treasured each memory of when she’d strapped the three of them— the time she’d had them lie on the floor in this same room, body beside body beside body, and she’d fucked down the line of them, stuffing deep, pulling out, stuffing into the next and sending the wet essence of the last triplet into the next, then when she’d rolled them over and taken their asses this way— the time… oh, there were too many to count.

But sometimes, she didn’t feel like strapping. And tonight she didn’t. She was happy just sitting there with her wine, thinking things over.

What Ellen had in front of her at this exact moment was a sight to see: Alexa and Alana were standing in the center of the room, their backs once again to the paneled window. They were standing completely naked. Ellen marveled every time, she’d been marveling for months. Whatever had been done to the brains, to the brains of each of triplet she possessed, it had so thoroughly removed the shame of nakedness, and of being looked at that none of them ever cared when they were standing naked by that blocked-off window.

Sometimes Ellen even made them face outwards— though even if any passersby walked past, they would be unable to see. If Ellen had ever showed off her concubines to people she invited into her home, people she would allow to see, she knew the triplets would only smile back, and wave at their oglers.

Alexa and Alana were facing Ellen, now. She sipped her wine again— it was wonderful to be able to enjoy a drink while she was enjoying other things. And as much as she was drinking in her wine, she was drinking the looks of Alexa and Alana— their bodies were as toned as ever— as taught and perky. She knew there was something in their brains, something that forced them to keep themselves perfect for her. It was their devotion for her— they wanted to give her their perfect bodies.

She still hadn’t ventured further into playing with their minds. They were her like her little sexrobots, and she’d taken them as they were, out of the box, as the manufacturer had designed them. She did like them just as they were— but ideas like this one, ideas about customizing their brains herself, since she held their keys now— they were a hot fantasy, and maybe when she felt ready, she’d see them do it.

For now, it was just a thing imagined. But the thought that they were running her control further into their heads wasn’t so far fetched— every time they came back from a jog, each triplet was unbearably horny, even more so than usual— Ellen often woke up to the three triplets in her bed, nestling around her, rutting, trying to get relief. This meant she often started the day with a good orgasm or three— and often, all four of them arrived at the office smiling wide.

For now Alexa and Alana were preening— they knew their mistress was watching them, loving the look of their bodies, and the way they stood there was performative, exhibitive— showing off. They knew they kept themselves so well that she enjoyed even their appearance— kept themselves just to hand over to her.

Ellen smiled against her glass rim.

Alright, she’d had enough of looking at them just standing stationary like that for her. Both of them were looking at her, and she was looking back at them, knowing they were seeing her. She gave a quick tilt of her head, just a brief nod— and they knew exactly what she wanted them to do.

Sister turned to sister— mouth came to mouth, and then they were kissing passionately. What they were doing with their tongues hidden from view was sex— it was dirty, it was raunchy, and it made their jaws tic and move with the motion. Hands entwined bodies, both women grinding against each other— lips being forced to connect closer.

Alexa put her leg up, setting her bald pussy right against Alana’s, and now she was swiveling her hips, Alana was swiveling back. They pressed their genitals together, then drew them apart— those lovely, athleticized bodies now making sex together— their lips came apart as their pussies grinded deeper into each other, indenting and imprinting themselves with what they ground against. Alexa and Alana were both resting foreheads together, gasping for breath— already overwhelmed by their sexes, so full of pleasure they couldn’t even remember to keep kissing.

And yet there was something in each muscle that told Ellen what she most wanted to know. They were lost, consumed by the motion of pussy hitting pussy, clit grinding clit— but they were doing it for her; they still knew she was watching them, and they were exemplifying everything, amplifying it all, to give her something better to watch.

Ellen didn’t know why anyone would ever go to a sex club— why should they? Only those poor fools who didn’t have their own concubines— she could have a sex show put on for her any time she wanted. She hadn’t even had to give them any instruction— a nod had been enough, and now she was watching it happen in real time, a live performance.

Even if they were faking everything they did, she knew their knowledge that she was watching them would have given them even greater pleasure than they were depicting. But she knew they weren’t faking.

They were exaggerating; but the exaggerating generated more, real pleasure. They knew they were her concubines. They knew she was watching them— they knew she was their mistress. She dreamed again that every time they knew this their minds would be more corrupted and they would be further retrained. This was plausible too— if the retraining had been cued to the pleasure response, then maybe every time they felt pleasure, their training sank in deeper. A happy idea for now— maybe she would make it true later.

She drank more wine because it made it feel her more powerful— this was just entertainment for her, or at least she could pretend it was when she was drinking. She was the composed one, sophisticatedly sipping while two of her sluts were completely lost within a labyrinth of allconsuming lust.

Ellen swirled her wine within her glass; then she raised it to her lips, and sipped deeply from it. Alexa and Alana had both put their strap-ons on, and they had Alena kneeling on her knees. They’d lubed themselves first, and they’d lubed Alena too; now Alexa was pressing her strap-on far up into Alena’s pussy, and at the same time, Alana was pressing her strap-on into Alena’s ass. They were penetrating both of Alena’s holes at the same time, and Ellen sipped her wine.

Alena’s head was sagging back on her neck, and her whole body was trembling, struggling to take in both invaders at the same time, and Alexa and Alana were driving into her with great concentration, and what looked like great enjoyment. They were doing it for Ellen to see, and for their own enjoyment too. Ellen knew the enjoyment of each of her slaves was heightened by her presence on this couch, watching them. And her enjoyment of her wine was heightened by seeing them do this; it tasted better than if she’d just been sitting at the diningroom table drinking it.

Alexa had put her hand close to Alena’s mouth, and now, while both she and Alana had bottomed out inside of Alena, Alexa was fitting her fingers into Alena’s mouth, making her suck them. Filling a third hole in her body while the other two were plugged.

This gave Alana a similar idea. She raised both her hands up to Alena’s head.

She had three of her four fingers curled back into each palm, and only her index fingers out; but these were only out to the first knuckle; then she pressed both of these knuckles into each of Alena’s open ears, effectively plugging them too.

And Alexa reached her free hand up, and pressed Alena’s nostrils closed; every hole in Alena’s body was blocked, and plugged, and her sisters were thrusting in and out of her; Alena was breathing around the fingers she sucked, and making muffled moans.

Alana pressed all the way into Alena’s ass as Alexa pulled out; then Alexa pressed all the way into Alena’s cunt as Alana pulled out; then both pulled out at once, and thrust back in at once. They were picking up speed in all they did; penetrating her doubly, and Alena was shuddering on her knees; looking like she was unable to withstand this kind of onslaught for very much longer.

Ellen took another sip of her wine; she enjoyed watching one of the triplets be singled out and used this way; she knew Alena would be loving it, stuffed so full, every hole in her body impeded. Sometimes when she was fucking a triplet who was fucking her, if Ellen got too far into the pleasure, it was easy to lose hold of who held the power and who was giving in. But sitting on the couch drinking reminded her; she had total power, and the triplets had none, completely obeyed her.

Both Alexa and Alana thrust into Alena at the same time; one more time; and that was it for Alena’s body; she started convulsing everywhere, every muscle clenching, and she twisted between the two bodies of her sisters, wrenching from side to side, her whole body, as if trying to do a full-body headshake but not quite managing it; she was shuddering; and clearly clenching down on both dildos that her sisters were putting inside her.

She bucked, and she went wild; and her muffled cries were almost screams, though they were lost partly around Alexa’s fingers. She looked like she was caught in a paroxysm of pleasure; shuddering everywhere that was visible, and she still wasn’t done, because her sisters weren’t done fucking her. They kept sending the dildos they’d strapped onto themselves into her, and she rocked with the motion, seeming to clench harder every time.

They had trapped her in the moment of orgasm, and they were keeping her there, keeping the orgasm going, not releasing her, not letting her stop, keep every part of her plugged up and blocked up. She simply thrashed more relentlessly; she was riding them, thrusting to take their thrusts, and all of it was a very beautiful image. She’d been suspended in the pleasure, locked inside the orgasm, and it was still happening to her. And Ellen delighted to see it happen; Alena was still coming, coming now, and really, her slaves were so marvelous, that they could do things like this.

That they could come for this long; that they could keep fucking each other this long. And the timing had been perfect; just as Alena was coming, Ellen was drinking down the very last of the wine she had in her glass.

She set the stem of the glass on the cushion of couch next to her, letting the head of it rest back against the back of the couch in a tilt. She was watching Alena shake through her final throes, and she was tasting the aftertaste of the wine. It had been bitter while drinking, with a bit of a tang, but there was a sweetness in the aftertaste, much like there was a sweetness in this moment.

Ellen licked inside of her mouth getting just a bit more of the flavor. And finally Alena wasn’t thrashing, wasn’t fighting anymore, because as the last of Ellen’s wine had gone, the last of Alena’s climax had gone as well. She was sagging, giving up, now only tired; and Alexa and Alana were still going as she hung between them, sometimes being lifted up when their thrusts entered her again. They would keep going without intervention. Ellen swallowed one last time, taking the remnants of the wine in, and then parted her lips to speak.

“Enough, Alana and Alexa. Exit her.”

The obedience was immediate. Each strap-on slid out of its hole; knuckles came out of ears, Alena’s nose was released from its pinch, fingers drew out of her mouth.

Alena was empty now, and sank further, tiredly, onto her knees.

Ellen loved her slaves, and loved the way they served her, but she also enjoyed caring for them in return. And it was clear that Alena had had enough of being pleasured, for now; she was tired out. She loved Ellen so much she would force herself to keep going, but the best thing for Alena in this moment would be to leave active play.

However, Alexa and Alana were in clearly the exact opposite situation. Both of them obviously wanted to keep fucking vigorously; she could see each of her slaves had their needs met now, and as the one with power over all of them, it was sort of her obligation to make sure this happened.

“Alena, you come over here to me, and kneel between my legs.”

Alena looked relieved at being taken out of play; Alexa and Alana were watching Ellen, listening for their instructions. “Alexa, Alana,” Ellen said, wanting to give them what they’d waited for. “Take off your strap-ons, and go get the double-ended dildo; you’ll share it, and scissor with each other around it.”

Alana took her strap-on off first, and she was the one to rush over to get the double-ended dildo out from where it was kept. Alexa took her strap-on off just as quickly; then she took both hers and Alana’s out of the room for cleaning.

Alexa then returned with the clean strap-ons and then put them away.

Just as Alana was coming back with the double-ended dildo. Each slave understood what to do even if they hadn’t been told so explicitly; both Alexa and Alana sat themselves on the floor with the dildo extended between them; and Alena knew what she was meant to be doing between Ellen’s legs. She had been kneeling beside Ellen all the time— Ellen took the opportunity, without taking her eyes off of Alexa and Alana’s coupling, to kick Alena in the side with her highheeled foot.

This brought Alena to action— she loved how easily they could be directed, because just like Alexa and Alana, Alena now knew what Ellen wanted her to do.

She turned around, on her knees, until she was facing Ellen. She didn’t waste the time it would have taken to look up at Ellen— she knew what Ellen expected of her, and it wasn’t glances.

Ellen sighed as she felt Alena put her head under her skirt. Ellen never wore underwear in the house, because she’d discovered she had quite the sexual appetite. She wanted her slaves to have constant access to her. As soon as she came home the underwear always came off.

She had to wear it at work to keep her mind out of dirty places. Sometimes it came off on the drive home— but she never had it on inside the inside the house.

She liked to keep her dresses on sometimes, though. And her heels— she loved the powerful feeling it gave her to be the one in clothes while her sluts were naked for her— she liked feeling her feet resting against the soles of her heels, her heels digging into the floor while a skilled tongue worked her; while a head was under skirt. The skirt being there always forced the head a little bit closer— preventing lifting up and pulling back.

Alena moved her face in closer, and started licking and licking at Ellen’s pussy, with as much skill and dedication as she’d used when she’d been licking Alexa’s fingers.

This was what was happening now— Ellen had slid down the couch— she was hunched, with her knees splayed apart, her pussy being pushed out because of the way Ellen was digging her very tall heels into the wood floor of her front room— she was pushing herself out into the feeling of Alena’s mouth, and Alena was pushing the feeling of her mouth into Ellen.

Alena’s tongue was wriggling inside Ellen’s cunt, never the same way twice, the variation driving her insane. She heaved up off the couch, further into the feeling, and Alena licked her more impatiently— she was licking around inside, wherever her tongue could reach, sometimes dragging against the best place— Alena would sit here forever and do this until Ellen stopped her.

And Ellen was in the mood to let her keep going for just now— she needed to come, she needed to come a lot of times, and just once wasn’t going to do it. She was sitting up from the back of the couch, sagging into her heels while Alena tonguebathed her cunt, brushing her nose again and again over Ellen’s clit, making her twitch.

Both Alexa and Alana squirmed on the dildo, working closer to each other and driving both ends of it in; they had pushed to the point that their pussies were touching, and the dildo was completely hidden, so they must be feeling really stuffed and really stretched, and they started grinding their pussies together, making them scissor. Ellen knew they were doing it for her to see; she loved watching it.

Now it was Alena drinking, drinking Ellen in, but the effect was much the same as that of the glass of wine before. It enhanced everything Ellen was seeing. And Ellen had given Alena a better view than she might have seen before, too. She didn’t leave her crotch so messy anymore; neither did she have to constantly tend to it. She had instead chosen a laster treatment. But she still hadn’t wanted to be completely without pubic hair, so she had left a faint landing strip; much less of a mess for Alena to be close to.

Alana and Alexa were fucking with as much eagerness and abandon as before; clearly, fucking Alena to orgasm had not tapped their sexual energy or drained them in any way. They were high-energy still, and their pussies squelched around the dildo, smacked as wet lips smushed and dragged against wet lips. Both of them were breathing heavily; between the two of them they had completely swallowed in the dildo and hidden it from view, and they were bouncing their asses where they were set on the floor to push themselves closer together.

And Alena’s licking was good; she wasn’t watching her sisters, she was completely focused now on what she was doing to Ellen. And Ellen’s focus was in two places: seeing what could be shown, and feeling what she could feel; the edge of Alena’s tongue, the feel of Alena’s lips.

All of these sensations were soft as velvet and Ellen could feel herself starting to shudder and quiver in place; the image of Alana and Alexa humping on the dildo they shared, the dildo that joined them; that was erotic; and the feeling of Alena working Ellen’s pussy with kissing, dripping wet sliding lips was also erotic; Ellen brought her hands up to her chest and started rubbing them as she looked at the two displays who had willingly surrendered themselves to display for her; they were shaking too, the dildo was driven so deep into each of them; she and her two women were shaking the same shakes.

They were shaking the same way: and then the timing worked out perfectly again, the same thing happening to all three of them at the same time; Ellen felt it start in her as she was seeing it take hold of Alana and Alexa.

Ellen cried out in first orgasm— flopped back to the couch, steadying her wineglass with a hand— the gyrations of Alexa’s and Alana’s cunts had become even more pornographic as they moved together. Alena kept licking.

All of them were coming, so it felt somehow like the three of them were sharing the same orgasm. What touched Ellen touched Alana and touched Alexa; both triplets on the floor weren’t able to hump in a way that was deliberate anymore, they were just spasming, and Ellen felt she was spasming in the same way on Alena’s face. She was only just starting to come, and the orgasm felt like it was only hitting harder. Alana and Alexa had completely lost control of their bodies, and they were thrashing uncontrolledly, still dragging pussy over pussy over shared dildo. This made Ellen’s pleasure sharper, brighter in her.

She was coming so long, without stopping, that it felt like she had come two or three more times. Ellen was losing track as she often did because her eyes had kept slipping over the view of Alexa and Alana just going at each other ravenously in the way they were still doing.

Ellen basked in her own power again— she was the one getting eaten out, she was the one enjoying this, still wearing a dress and heels, and her sluts were slutting for her.

It was so hot that it made Ellen feel a pressure. She needed to bear down, and bear down hard. She surrendered to the impulse, watching Alana and Alexa as she did, and she found herself squirting out fluid from her vagina all over Alena’s face; it was a long stream that seemed to take a while to come out of her; and she felt wrung out and spent when she sprayed the last of it.

She looked to the third triplet who’d just delivered this orgasm to her: she had drenched Alena’s face, and sprayed completely over it.

Ellen flopped back against the couch.

But then her eyes fell to wineglass beside her, on the couch also. She’d now removed her steadying hand from it.

She’d only had one glass, and there would be more wine in the kitchen, but one glass had been enough for her. And now she didn’t want to be stuck holding it; she was not a woman who liked having to be inconvenienced. It had been one thing to hold the glass when it was full— but to sit here and hold the glass while it was empty was an affront to her.

Ellen lifted her free hand, and gave a snap of her fingers, audible throughout the room. Alena ducked her head back out from under Ellen’s skirt, and looked up at her with searching eyes.

“There’s no more wine,” Ellen said— and she felt like the mistress they saw her as she heard her own tone. Above it all— only vaguely entertained by anything that ever happened, always in complete control of herself.

She held the glass out, and Alena took it, and disappeared from the room.

Of course, the option had been present for Ellen to set the glass down on the couch beside her. But the chance of glass shattering on the floor of the room that she wanted to fuck inside of had been undesirable to her. She didn’t want to have to move rooms. And taking a slave out of rotation to clear away a glass was a much shorter thing than taking a slave out of rotation to clear away shattered glass.

And she could have, for fun, just made Alena stand there holding the glass for hours. Alena would even have enjoyed doing it— but Ellen was happiest with the option she’d opted for. She’d made the right choice.

The glass was out of her hands, so her hands were free, and it was just her, Alexa and Alana in the room now. As long as she’d been drinking, she hadn’t wanted to rush— it had helped her unwind— and she hadn’t wanted to do anything other than laze around and take pleasure at the lips of a concubine.

But she had unwound, and she could dedicate her focus to other things. She wanted Alexa and Alana closer to her— she wanted them now— she always wanted the triplets so badly that even when all of them were working, it soothed her inside to know the affection she felt for all of them was still there. But when she wanted them at home, she didn’t have to keep working and wait. When she wanted them at home, she could just have them, as soon as she wanted them.

One last look before interrupting. Oh, but they were sexy.

Then Ellen clucked her tongue. “Eyes on me,” she said, and both Alexa’s and Alana’s pretty faces turned to face towards her. They stood looking at her; and now that she was sure they would see what she was doing, she made one simple beckoning motion with her hand. They understood again, following the nonverbal cue. They read this as invitation— they would be joining her where she was on the couch. They were walking towards her now.

It reminded Ellen of the first time she had seen them in Marcus’ office that day— the way they had walked in, looking so demure. She felt like the three of them had been on a long road that had brought them to her— that had led them to post-secondary graduation, that had led them to becoming candidates for her firm— that had led them to their incestuous training— that had led them through that, and into Marcus’ office that day— then pulled them home to her that first night she’d ever touched and fucked them.

And that path kept them tied here— she had been their endpoint, she was everything to them now and she knew it. But still she liked to see them walking to her— it reminded her of how far they had traveled to get to her; that she had them now. It did things to the loneliness inside of her— the young woman who had hidden from her attraction to other women, that college student who had resigned herself to the fact that she would never know the touch or the love of a woman. And yet here she was every day knowing the touch and love of three— Alexa and Alana knew Ellen liked to see them walking to her when she beckoned— and they were stepping more slowly.

It helped her build anticipation again, too. Soon they would reach her— soon she would be touching them again, lost in throes of being served, and then they would be too close to admire. But the way they were stepping was pantherlike, lithe steps, elegant steps. There were no better bodies in the world than the three Ellen got to see on her slaves time and time again— she watched them moving, muscle rippling, skin shifting; she was glad they were slowing it down, taking their time to get to her because this moment was perfect.

And in this moment Ellen was suddenly happy— just easily, lightly happy with nothing else complicating it, and nothing else required of her for the moment. She wasn’t worried about Alena getting back— the kitchen was distant, it would take her a few minutes, especially if she were to wash out the wineglass first. Ellen was happy with the two triplets she had with her— they were most of the way to couch— it would only take them a few steps more. Ellen was excited all over again. Even after so many months— was still so excited to have them.

They reached the place Ellen was sitting, and each extended a hand to her. She was so cared for she didn’t even have to stand without assistance. Ellen put a hand in each one offered to her, glad there was no glass in her grip to get in the way— Alexa and Alana pulled her up.

She nodded to them again. They both took hold of one side of her skirt. The dress she was wearing wasn’t too tight— it could easily be pulled up over her head. She had tacitly given them the permission they needed to do this already.

They got the dress over her head by working together— there was no underwear for them to take off— but Ellen stayed in her heels, because she liked the way wearing them made her feel— she felt like a mistress when she was in them; sometimes she was lost in the erotic, especially when she and her concubines were all moving together and sharing a mutual pleasuring. Little signifiers like these gave her something to latch onto.

Both Alexa and Alana were bending forward— then she felt both of their mouths settle in around her nipples. She was getting hard there as soon as she felt that gentle moisture— her nipples burned the more they were licked, but Alexa and Alana kept licking at them, latching on them, sucking them hard, rolling them between teeth.

Ellen looked down— from her view, with the way Alexa and Alana were bent, she could see their breasts hanging down heavy, could see it from above. She let her head fall back— shifting her chest forward further into their mouths.

Both Alexa and Alana had both hands on Ellen’s back— they were supporting her, keeping her in her stance; she didn’t even entirely feel she was standing up, she felt so supported and there was so little strain.

There was only pleasure as she felt two mouths at once fitted around her nipples like they would never come off. How sad for people who only had one lover at a time— how sad for women who had only one lover at a time. Feeling just one mouth around a nipple while the other had to settle for the manipulation of fingers— that was nothing compared to the glory of feeling two mouths at once. Ellen was glad she would never have to settle for anything inferior again.

She could feel her arousal pooling out of her— and she was glad. Another orgasm had happened before she’d realized Alena had come back, the glass left behind her; and her face still dripping, still covered in what Ellen had squirted on her before.

Ellen pulled free of the two triplets standing in front of her. She sat back on the couch, suddenly tired again; and gestured for Alena. She kneeled close to Ellen, right in front of the couch.

Ellen was too tired, from coming that hard, and she couldn’t give any further instructions to her slaves. But they seemed to know what to do without her instructions now; Alena scooted back, making considerable space between her and the couch. At the same time, Alana and Alexa turned to regard their discarded doubledildo; Alana left to clean it, and Alexa scooted forward to sit to the left of Alena.

Alana was back, and the double-ended dildo was put away before Alexa had done anything. Alana took her place to the left of Alena, and then Alexa leaned in, and licked some of what Ellen had squirted off the side of Alena’s cheek.

Alena shivered as she was being licked; and Alexa was licking her clean, though only in a very small area. She’d probably only taken two tongue-lengths off of her, and then Alexa pulled back, holding what she’d licked off in her mouth.

Then she leaned across Alena, and Alana leaned to meet Alexa back; the two of them kissed, deeply, and from the way Alexa was moving her tongue, Ellen realized that Alexa was administering to Alana what she’d licked off of Alena. Ellen’s squirtings, and Alana was taking it in eagerly. Alana was tasting Ellen, off of Alexa’s tongue, and that was hot enough to bring Ellen’s pussy back to at least half-attention. Then the two broke the kiss, and Alana started licking on the other side of Alena’s face, who they’d been kissing in front seconds before.

Alana licked at Alena’s face carefully, going tonguelength by tonguelength herself. She’d looked at Alexa, watched her, and taken in the method; she counted four or five tonguelengths cleared off Alena, before she stopped. And while Alana was licking, Alexa did not; the two of them were clearly content to take it in turns. Alena must have been glad of this too: she was handling being licked once at a time, but it didn’t seem like she could take double the stimulus.

Alana pulled away, and again kissed back into Alexa’s mouth, right in front of Alena, who watched them. Passing between their lips, they were sharing the most fundamental, the most essential thing to come out of their mistress’ body, and clearly enjoying every second of this sharing; it was something that was passing between the two of them, a treat to enjoy together; yet they were letting Alena and Ellen both watch it happen; what a special moment.

The two of them alternated. Alexa licking more of Ellen’s essence off Alena’s face, then kissing it to Alana. Then Alana licking more of Ellen’s essence off of Alena’s face, before kissing it to Alexa. They went on patiently, they went on methodically, and Ellen knew by the time the two of them were done, the only thing left on Alena’s face would be the saliva of her sisters.

But Ellen was content to sit back and watch this progress for a while. She had given everything in her orgasm.

She didn’t have anything else left now.

But after a few minutes of this, Ellen sat further up on the couch; it was clear to her that Alana and Alexa had finished clearing off Alena’s face; and now they were just licking her to lick her. They would keep going, again, unless prompted. She loved her slaves for being so repetitively obedient.

“Enough now, girls,” she told them; and each triplet turned toward her and looked. They smiled to have her attention. “I’m tired,” Ellen spoke on. I’m sure you’re all tired; let’s the four of us go to bed.”

Alena was the first to rise to her shaky feet; then Alana did the same, and then Alexa. Both Alexa and Alana put a hand out towards Ellen, and she appreciated the offering of their hands. She needed a little extra help in getting up from the couch. So she took hold of each hand that had been extended to her, and leaned onto them, using that support to help herself reach her feet.

Once she was standing, she nodded at Alena; and Alexa and Alana took their support away, and gave it to their sister instead. If possible, Alena seemed even more exhausted from all the pleasure of that day than Ellen herself was; Ellen judged that Alena needed the help to get to the bedroom more than she did.

Together, the four of them left the frontroom, moved through the house in the direction of their bedroom. Going to bed with the triplets was still one of Ellen’s favorite things to do. Her days were long, and exhausting; even with the triplets’ help, being a partner at such a prestigious firm was hard work; and the pleasure she shared with them, though she badly needed it to decompress from that stress, was tiring in a different way.

This was a night after which she would not wish to be woken up early to watch the triplets exercise themselves; this was a night on which she would not wish for any further pleasure with the triplets before going to sleep. She would only wish for contact, and for closeness.

The four of them made it back to the bedroom. They were already naked, as they frequently chose to sleep naked together each night, so that saved one step in the nightly preparation process.

But there were other steps in it; Ellen sat down on the foot of her bed and watched the triplets as they went into the ensuite bathroom. The door was open, so Ellen could easily see each one of the triplets as they crowded around the sink, each taking up their toothbrush, then passing the toothpaste tube around, before each triplet finally started brushing.

Ellen always found it meditative to watch them; and it was a nice opportunity to watch their bodies; the way the movement of an arm reverberated through the lower body, made the breasts shake, could be seen even in the hips slightly.

As the women brushed more vigorously, they rocked on the balls of their feet in time, their bodies shifting and jostling as they did. Ellen watched more closely.

Finally, each woman bent at the waist and spit their toothpaste runoff into the sink; then each woman picked up her comb, and brushed out their locks in lockstep with the others; another action that impacted the entire body of each triplet, another action that gave Ellen a moment to watch.

When the triplets had finished brushing their hair, they came towards the bed, and Ellen stood to be among them. All four of them were too tired to delay sleep any further; together, the four of them pulled back the king-size comforter, and the king-size sheet that rested beneath. Ellen was the first to fall onto the soft bed, but she reached for the triplets; they fell around her, two on one side, and one behind her, but all three embraced her, and pressed their bodies close to hers. It was nice to feel the bodies she had so gladly watched be upclose to her.

One of the two stood, having forgotten to close the door and turn out the light. Ellen’s eyes were already closed so she couldn’t tell who was standing where; that last triplet also pulled the blankets back over them all.

Ellen was so happy she didn’t need to sigh. There was warmth around her; each of the triplets was holding her, and she felt so very, incredibly loved.

She was just so grateful, so grateful to have been made Senior Partner, to be have given the three loves she now had. No part of her doubted the life she had, or was resistant to it. She accepted the way she was living, accepted everything that came with it. It was more than any earlier versions of herself would ever have imagined possible. But it had happened— it was true, and there was so much more good to look forward to.