Chapter 8 ... Finally.

I wish I could say that things got better after the publication of the last chapter, but they didn't. They became significantly worse. That being said, I am hopeful that the worst of it is over and I can get back to the business of writing with something close to regularity.

Once again, I cannot go any further without offering my deepest thanks, appreciation and admiration for my editors. The ever present Sophie and Freya, along with three new ones who offered their help on the Discord server. Ben, RazorDrive, and Flying Doc, the credit for this chapter being edited so quickly and made available to the public is entirely yours... Thank you.

This chapter picks up immediately after the last one ended as our hapless hero enjoys the morning after the night before.

I hope you enjoy

Nova

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The corridor stretched out endlessly. The light was gradually being swallowed by the shadows until the hallway faded into blackness. The stark, featureless, grey concrete that lined all four sides of the tunnel and the dank, stale and stagnant air made it clear that I was in some sort of facility that was - somehow - deep underground.

The air smelled... old.

Everything was muted yet heightened at the same time. I could hear my heavy breaths echoing off the walls, the dull, almost deafening sounds of my footfalls on the floor, the racing beat of my heart in my chest. Everything was exaggerated, yet seemingly far away. My mind seemed to be in a fog, I couldn't remember how I got here, nor could I work out exactly where 'here' was, but as my awareness slowly faded back to me, I realized that I wasn't alone.

Looking around, it became apparent that I was in a small group. Faces I couldn't quite place, but not only was there a flash of recognition to all of them, I seemed to instinctively know that they were all also Evos. I could feel my mind reach out for theirs, but nothing happened, it was like my powers were there, just not available to me. That should have been more concerning than it was if it wasn't for something else.

We were running

We were running for our lives

Suddenly, as if that one detail cleared the haze from my mind, my surroundings snapped into razor-sharp clarity. A sense of dread - abject, indescribable terror - gripped at my chest. My heart was pounding against the prison bars of my ribs, desperately to free itself from the panic that threatened to overwhelm it. Every hair on my arms and neck was standing on end, and my chest burned from the exertion of running as fast as my legs were able to carry me. This wasn't some lazy jog, this was a panicked, sprinting flee from a threat that I couldn't quite comprehend. I didn't know where it was, I didn't even know what it was, but I knew with undiluted certainty that being caught by it would mean death.

I kept running.

The hallways were labyrinthian hallways, all of us instinctively sticking together as we randomly took one branching corridor after another. My eyes flicked around, not knowing if we were being led, or if we were blindly following... watching as one member of my group after another cast a glance over their shoulders and back along the corridor behind us, their eyes widening with something between horror and disbelief. Despite the featureless nature of the walls, I somehow seemed to know that despite the directions we took, we kept ending up in the same place as we started. Through it all, I could feel it... whatever it was. The low rumble of a growled breath, the heat of... something. Whatever was chasing us was gaining ground.

No... we weren't being chased... We were being hunted.

I chanced a look of my own, straining my neck to look behind me and back along the path we had just taken as I stumbled to keep running... The thing that met my eyes filled me with a terror, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was hard to describe exactly what it was: A beast of some kind, the size of a grizzly bear but jet black. Its hair was more like a porcupine's spines than anything else and despite the darkness of its coat, I could still make out the razor-sharp edges of each individual needle. There were thousands of them. The face was different, akin to something like a Chinese dragon, but the eyes burned. Not like a glowing red of a cartoon villain, but burning with literal fire, the smoke from them pouring over the dagger-like fangs that lined its jaws and hung in the air like the pawl of death, swallowing the light from the corridor behind. Its talon-capped paws padded patiently on the floor as it strode purposefully after us, the lights above it flickering with each footfall before being swallowed by the all-consuming smoke.

The creature wasn't running. It didn't need to, there was nowhere for us to go, and the beast knew it. We were cornered, we were trapped and despite its calm pace, the danger was inextricably and undeniably gaining on us. The terror gripped my chest like a vice. The disparity between my sprinted fleeing and our pursuers' casual strides didn't seem to matter, nor did it matter how hard I pushed myself, how fast I ran, or which direction we turned; it was gaining ground.

I could feel the heat of the smoke around my ankles. I could smell the sulfur in it.

Then, the last turn of the last corridor, the final means of escape, and the inevitable dead end. The group of us pressed against the solid concrete wall, all watching in heart-stopping terror as the creature rounded the corner, paused, eyed us with those orbs of burning fire, and closed in on its prey. I summoned every ounce of power I could muster, forcing my way through the block that seemed to be stopping my mind from reaching out to the others, pushing it to the palm of my hands, and hurling it with air-cracking fury down the corridor at the beast.

The walls around the creature exploded in a hail of dust and debris, the ground shook and the ceiling threatened to fall in. But the beast barely seemed to notice; the blast that would have turned any other living thing into a pulped stain on the wall washed over it like water off a duck's back, only the chunks of concrete bouncing off it seemed to be noticed at all. It didn't even break its stride. It simply shook its back to dislodge the debris and closed on its prey.

I slid down the wall in exhaustion. Slumping to the floor.

There was nowhere to run, nothing to fight back with, nothing I could do. Death was coming, and all I could do was watch it approach.

I woke up with a start. Sitting bolt upright in bed, Becky laying in peaceful slumber next to me; my senses were on a razor's edge, my arms stretched out in front of me and into the room, I could feel the power gathering against my palms. My fingers were vibrating with an energy that I wasn't aware I possessed, summoned by an instinct that went far beyond the powers I had given myself at the editing station. This was pure energy and I was ready to obliterate anything in sight.

Every sense was alert and seeking out the threat, my eyes darted in every direction, searching for the danger in every shadow. My breathing was ragged and heavy, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end, and the cool air of the bedroom kissed the cold sweat that glistened off my body as I blinked into the darkness.

Sleeping in the bunker may have been physiologically different for an Evo than sleeping in the real world, but it made no difference at all to dreams.... Or to nightmares.

Dreams, I have been told, are a communication of the subconscious, a primitive and primal version of the conversations I had with Jeeves on a daily basis, but I didn't need my constant companion to tell me what this dream meant.

Something was coming.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Alright, let's face it; there are few things in life quite as good as sharing a shower with someone. Especially when that shower is one of those enormous walk-in constructions with enough room to easily fit 5 people and jets spraying at you from every angle. And even more so when you are sharing that shower after a night of indescribably good sex.

For the purposes of a fair contrast between this, and every other type of shared shower, I will refrain from mentioning that the only item of clothing my voluptuous lover would be wearing while we were in there was the delicate - and conveniently water-resistant - lace collar around her neck.

I hadn't really given it much thought on the previous night. But Becky and Philippa shared a fairly large house, pretty close to the city center, in an area I knew to be quite expensive, with impressively large bedrooms, and it had a shower that wouldn't be out of place in an episode of 'cribs'. Either these nurses had gotten one hell of a deal on the rent, or their profession paid them a lot more than I thought it did. Either way, thinking about the amount of money that the nurses would be paying for this place made my inner-broke-student's eyes water. Having access to money, it would seem, was not necessarily enough to get me out of the 'financially poor' mentality.

The moral of all this is to say that for the briefest of moments, I was more taken aback by the size and splendor of the shower than I was with the beauty slipping out of her negligee next to me. A fact that she found utterly adorable... and pretty hilarious.

I couldn't tell you when she had put the negligee on; I assume she had felt cold in the night and had donned the silken garment while I was sleeping before curling back up against me. All I knew was that I woke up naked, and she didn't. It was a disparity that was quickly rectified as she brushed the delicate straps off each shoulder and let the negligee flutter to her ankles just in time for my eyes to focus on her. Any remaining tension gripping my chest from the dream that had woken me a few hours before vanished in a heartbeat.

With one hand resting on her thrust-out hip, she looked at me with a mirthful smirk and one raised eyebrow. "So, what do you think?" She asked playfully.

"Incredible," I said with a smile, stepping towards her.

"I was talking about the shower," she replied, with a playful lyricism to her tone.

"So was I." I grinned back, stepping closer, wrapping an arm around her, my hand pressing into the small of her back and pulling her close.

Her giggle echoed off the walls as she slapped my chest, before being silenced by the searing kiss I pressed into her lips. The kiss was deep and it was passionate. This was a different Becky to the previous night; although her submissive streak ran deep, it didn't consume her, at least not right now. The new thoughts that filtered from her mind to mine were ones of playful seduction, teasing, the warming knowledge that before her stood a man who truly desired her, and although she would kneel and obey in a heartbeat if commanded, she had something different on her mind this morning.

She placed her hand on my chest and pushed me away, that glint flashing in her eyes, and a hungry smirk curled her lips as she stepped backward and into the shower. I moved with her, her hand keeping me literally at arm's length but also, somehow, pulling me with her. Neither of us wanted me to be any further away from her than that. Without removing her eyes from mine, she reached for some levers and knobs on the wall, deftly flicked a few of them, waited a few moments, and stepped backward into the stream of steaming water.

Damn, I wish my shower heated up that fast.

It was another one of those instances where the visions in Becky's mind told me exactly what I needed to do as she stepped through the stream and pressed her back up against the smooth tiled wall underneath the showerhead. I stopped, nothing separating us but the streams of water, the steam of the heat from it, and the lustful need filling the air between us. I leaned myself against the wall to the side, my already swollen manhood starting to throb and resisting the urge to grasp it while I watched Becky's hands start to move.

It was slow and teasing; her one hand on her neck as her eyes closed and her chin tilted upwards, the other on her stomach. Both hands caressed the skin as they moved. It was almost like she was mapping herself, committing every curve, every goosebump, and every nerve to memory before moving on to the next as both hands slowly converged on her chest. Her eyes may have been closed, but her mind was a dancing, swirling kaleidoscope of color, each new sensation causing a flash of light in the vortex of raw feeling. Conscious thoughts were like words, the internal monologue that I had heard from people every day since my awakening, but physical touch was different. It was color. Pain was a flash of blood-red, pleasure a bolt of Sunfire yellow that burned away to the throbbing blue and green afterglows. Every single physical sensation that the body could be subjected to could be boiled down to somewhere on the rainbow between pleasure and pain, and the twisting, swirling whirlwind of colors that consumed her mind was filled with the varying shades of sensation.

The dull vibrating yellow as the tips of her fingers teased over her throat and onto the top of her chest, the tingling purple as her body tried to ignore the ticklish spot on the side of her abdomen, trailing over it as both hands moved towards her voluptuous chest. The brighter flash of yellow as one hand trailed onto the mountain of her breast, slowly approaching the diamond-hard peak as the north-bound hand cupped and lifted the other breast from below. The explosion of red as her fingers grasped a nipple, squeezing it hard, twisting, the reds and the yellows merging into a throbbing, vibrant orange that fell straight to her core. There was only one conscious thought echoing through her mind. She wanted to be watched, she wanted to be seen.

No, that wasn't right... She wanted me to watch. She wanted me to see her. She wanted to share this most private of moments, this most intimate of acts... with me.

The hissed gasp that came from her lips as she tugged and pinched one of her nipples, followed by the throaty moan as she released it, filled her mind with another display of red and yellow fireworks. The throb as the blood flowed back into the sensitive nub pulsed red through her psyche, offset by the warm, constant yellow as her other hand kneaded and caressed her other breast. But there was something else, a flickering burning white echoing in the background... anticipation. My eyes refocused on her body in time for me to watch her torturing finger start to slowly and softly circle around the ridges of her areola and her cupping hand released her breast and started to trail down her stomach. I could almost feel the throb of excitement in her clit as it peeked from between her lips, both her mind and her clit, knowing what was coming. It took me a few moments to realize that her eyes had reopened and were staring at me with a dilated intensity that, to this day, I struggle to put into words.

She was going to touch herself, she wanted me to watch, she wanted me to see, but more than that, she wanted me to know. She was doing it to thoughts of me, as she had done countless times in the last month, her fingers finding her pleasure in the darkness of lonely nights, in the bright haze of the mornings, and in the vision-filled dreams between. This wasn't a show to turn me on, we both already knew that ship had long since sailed, this was genuinely her pleasuring herself over me, showing me what thoughts of me did to her, and she wanted me to know.

Even over the sounds of the shower, I could hear her heavier breaths as her hand passed her navel, her fingers flexing against her skin like a pianist preparing to play. Her body was an instrument, and she was a master at her craft. Her eyes fixed on mine as the tips of her fingers finally reached their destination. Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips as her finger brushed over her wet ones, tracing the outline of her folds.

Three fingers slid through and into her center, gliding effortlessly between her folds. The middle one teasingly probed her entrance as the fingers on either side of it spread her open. She wanted me to see. The glistening wetness that had nothing to do with the shower, the almost imperceptible tremble in her legs as the bright flash of yellow pleasure burst through her mind and through her sex. Stroking that finger upwards, dragging her wet arousal with her and finally brushing it over her clit. The slightly harder pressure, the slight drag upwards, the drawing back of her hood, and the explosion of yellow fire behind her eyes as she pressed that lone finger into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Her breathing - dear God, her breathing - I could have gotten off from nothing more than closing my eyes and listening to the hitched, quivering breaths, the soft, pleasured moans, the gasps and gulps of air as her fingers teased and ignited every nerve in her core. My eyes were seeing, but it was the colors in her mind that held my attention. Every subtle movement had an effect; her finger dragged a little higher and the yellows exploded, too high and they started to fade. Press too hard and the yellow would tinge with red, not hard enough and the colors would barely change at all. This was so much more than simply watching what her hand was doing. It was like she was teaching me exactly where and - more importantly, how - to touch her. The only thing more erotic than the nature of the lesson, was the soundtrack it was taught to; the breathless, hitched, and panted breaths of pure passion.

Breathless breaths: An oxymoron that echoed off every surface and resonated through every fiber of my being. It was my new favorite sound on earth.

Becky's thoughts changed in an instant, more than colors, more than sensation; behind her lidded eyes came the images and the visions that I had experienced in the hospital. Desires, fantasies, even memories flashed through her mind, burning along her conscious thoughts and filling the air between us with charged sexual energy.

Her fingers pressed harder into her clit at the memory of her first taste of me, our combined juices coating my cock as I lay immobile in the hospital bed. The hot, pulsing throb as my seed spurted powerfully into her mouth, the eye-fluttering sensation as my essence bathed her tongue before she swallowed it down, making me a part of her.

The fingers circling, her ring and index fingers holding and squeezing either side of her clit as the middle finger ground her nub in its small orbit, the hitched breath and the soft, gasped moan as memories of the roughness of my claiming her the previous night throbbed through her core. The feeling of her collar around her throat for the first time as her pussy tingled and ached from the brutal, indescribably satisfying pounding it had endured. The dull pain at the roots of her hair from where I had pulled it, the burning sting on her asscheeks from the strength of my spanks. The undeniable power and strength in my hands, my arms, my body, and my mind. Yet the absolute safety and tenderness she felt when they were wrapped around her. The sound of my voice as I said the words that warmed every part of her.

Mine

Her middle finger dragged her hood up and down over her sensitive ball of nerves as her mind delved into the fantasies we had not yet explored. The feeling of her ass stretching around me as I slowly sank into her. Claiming the last part of her. Her face pressed into the pillow, her teeth clamping into the material of it as the pleasure and pain overwhelmed her. Another of her on her knees, looking up at me through squinted eyes as I painted her with my seed, feeling each hot rope landing on the skin of her face, her throat, her chest before rubbing it lovingly into her flesh.

Kneeling for me. My every whim and command was honored and obeyed with an almost religious reverence. Her total submission, gifting herself to me willingly.

Suddenly, we weren't alone in her fantasies. She wanted me to watch more than her pleasure herself. The slow grinding circles pressed harder and deeper as visions formed in her imagination. Her and Philippa, laying together, one on top of the other, faces buried between each other's damp thighs, tasting each other... that was as much a memory as a fantasy, but she wanted to see the look on my face as I watched. The two of them sitting, facing each other, their legs spread and entwined, their pussies pressed together and grinding as they scissored, both of their eyes flicking between each other and me. The feeling of Philippa's hand on the back of her head, pressing harder, as it had done countless times in the past, but not pushing her deeper into her sex, but deeper onto my cock.

Her watching. Watching Philippa with me, watching the two girls from the club share me, sometimes joining, sometimes watching, but always knowing that it was her who I would come back to, her I would finish the night with, her who would fall asleep in my arms.

She remembered the words that her friend, her housemate, and her lover had whispered into her ear during her late-night visits. "You are my toy!" There was a comfort to that, a yearning to be possessed and used as a woman. To be seen as a sexual being. Phillipa understood that and before last night, their times together had been some of the most sexually gratifying experiences of her life. Becky didn't know how much of Philippa's sentiments were spoken from the heart, and how much was said in the panted heat of the moment, but with her interest in Jimmy growing, and Becky's craving for me matching, if not surpassing that, Philippa seemed to have passed the mantle. A mantle I had picked up and claimed with the collar around her neck. Becky wanted to share her new lover with the old, but not today. Today was about us, about discovery, she wanted to see exactly what she could do to me before my self-control collapsed and I took her with the frantic, urgent need she craved so badly.

She wanted to be fucked. She wanted to be thrown up against the shower wall and taken, but she wanted me to do it because I had been driven to it. She wanted to see that primal, carnal hunger glinting in my eyes, hear the growled bass of my throat, and feel my granite-hard arousal plunge into her with the full knowledge that this was the effect she had on me. Little old Becky, quiet, unassuming, barely noticeable to the outside world for most of her life, had driven a man - a real man - to need her so badly that he couldn't contain himself any longer.

My new favorite sound was replaced almost immediately by the deep, guttural moan as her hand dropped, her palm pressed into her clit, catching it before the hood had a chance to retract, and grinding the ball of her hand into it as two fingers plunged deep inside her.

It was strange; I'd had over a month to get used to it, but another consciousness suddenly snapping into my awareness still sometimes took me by surprise. I had commanded my internal editing station to filter my awareness so that I could only hear only thoughts that were directly related to me. Until this point, Philippa's mind had been elsewhere and was silent, invisible, as it had been for all of the previous night. I could have accessed it if I wanted to, I just didn't have reason to, so I hadn't. But Becky's loud and passionate moan drew her attention to us in an instant.

And it turned her on beyond measure.

But there was something else burning beneath the surface; a loss, an anguish, an aching pain that - in hindsight - I should have paid more attention to. But in an instant, her thoughts snapped to me, or, more specifically, to us. Another loud moan from my blonde bombshell as her fingers curled up and pressed into her G spot shot a jolt of arousal through her brunette friend.

"He's fucking her!" Her voice echoed silently through my ears, providing an almost perfect - albeit inaccurate - soundtrack to the visions coming from Becky "I wonder how he is taking her. Is it his fingers? His tongue? She told me how big his cock is, and it certainly didn't feel like she was exaggerating when I felt it in the taxi. I wonder if he is stretching her around him right now. God, I want that! I want him! I want to make my little toy taste me off her lover's dick."

I could almost feel her thighs pressing together as she held her breath to listen to us, but each new throb of voyeuristic excitement was tempered by that dull ache in the pit of her stomach. Half of her mind was consumed with the increasingly loud moans coming from Becky, the rest of her was fighting a battle. Trying desperately to take her mind off... something... to think of anything other than that. To fight back the desire to curl herself into a ball and let the earth swallow her whole. The last part of her mind was a whirlwind of anguish, the hollow pang of.... Regret? No, not regret, something deeper.

Shame, embarrassment.... Rejection.

Rejection?!? Jimmy, I don't know how you've managed to fuck this up, but...

As soon as his name came into my head, I knew something was wrong. He was gone, he had been gone for hours. Philippa's efforts to think of anything other than what had happened and - if I am being honest - my own ridiculous levels of arousal wouldn't let me see exactly what had transpired. But even the most cursory cast of my mind into the rest of the house told me he wasn't here. Mile after mile, my mind stretched, searching, all of it happening in a blink of an eye until I found him. Sleeping in his own bed, in his own apartment, and entirely unalone.

I didn't even try to justify my anger at him by finding out who he was with. That was a fight for later. Right now, Philippa was suffering for his actions and was in the other room, listening, squirming, and grinding herself onto the bed, fighting that internal battle between unchecked and naked desire, and the fear of being rejected again. Becky was more than her plaything, more than her toy. She was a lover, one she knew she could go to, but she was with me. They had known each other for years but Philippa had never seen Becky so enraptured by a man.

But that was fine, though, right? Becky had me - there was almost an unspoken understanding that Philippa would be joining us occasionally - and she had Jimmy.... "Had"... the swell of embarrassment and pain rose up inside her again at just the thought of him. The disparity in the two nurses' luck threatened to overwhelm her; she had freely and willingly given up Becky to someone else, hell, she had encouraged it. There had been something about Jimmy she thought she could trust, something she thought she could love, just like there was in me. But in one sentence, in only a few short moments, he had shattered the illusion and robbed her of the one thing she prided herself on most; her confidence.

"I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. I just can't do this to...." No! Fuck him! She wasn't going to do this to herself. She was gonna sit here and listen, listen to the sounds of her lover getting fucked only a few feet away. Another moan vibrated through the walls, higher-pitched and hungry... "I've heard that moan before, he's teasing her." She was going to tuck her hand into her suddenly sodden panties and imagine it was her, imagine she was with us, joining in, wanted, desired, safe... she was going to forget about Jimmy, forget about that hollowness in her stomach as she was going to listen... imagining.

"Although...." Suddenly, her words from the hospital echoed through her mind and into mine.

"Has she told you about her fantasy of watching her man fuck her friends yet?.... Well, make sure you keep me in mind!"

She licked her lips, pondering the thought. Her mind, like Becky's, flooded mine with images of imagined passions yet to come. I had never paid much attention to Philippa's erotic nature before that point, mainly because the focus of her amorous intent had been Jimmy. But as the possibilities of her circumstance dawned on her, the object of her desires switched to me. They became impossible to ignore.

A vision of Philippa and Becky on their knees before me, one mouth on my throbbing manhood, the other tending to my full and heavy balls, working for a while before trading places. Battling in a silent, unspoken, yet playful competition to see who could take me the deepest.

The sharing of my seed; it almost wouldn't matter whose mouth was on me when I erupted, the load would be taken, savored, and then shared. The hot, thick cream passed between the two lover's mouths as their lips pressed into each other, their tongues taking and giving the precious taste back and forth. It had been a while since she had tasted a man, but Philippa had made Becky bring herself to a shattering orgasm while her blonde lover had recounted the tale of her swallowing me in the hospital. Phillippa had watched as Becky panted and moaned out the words, she had listened, she had made sure that Becky hadn't seen the whites of her knuckles as she grasped the chair, or the squirm of her thighs as her sex flooded, she had teased her toy, her lover, into spilling every sordid detail, and then she had retired to her room and fingered herself to her own blinding high. Yes, it had been a while, but she was determined to not let that dry spell last much longer. She was going to taste me, swallow me, consume my essence. If Jimmy didn't want to be the one who....

And there it was again, his name; the surge of shame and the sinking hollowness of rejection that now seemed to come with it overtook and tempered the erotic fantasies that were playing in her mind. "Fuck!" she spat silently, shaking her head loose. The visions were gone and her ears desperately searched the air for the sounds that had birthed them in the first place. Becky didn't make her wait long.

Becky's fingers pressed hard into her core. No longer still, she started driving them in and out of herself, the wet slaps of her palm lightly spanking her clit, and the sloshing wetness of her fingers thrusting in and out of herself were only drowned out by the deep, loud, and guttural groan as her other hand tugged hard on one stiffened nipple. The groan vibrated through every fiber of her, it vibrated through the core of me, it vibrated through the walls and it vibrated powerfully through Phillipa's clit. Becky's wasn't the only moan that suddenly rang through my ears.

More visions filled my mind, I couldn't even tell who they were coming from at this point. The things Philippa could have done to me in the back of the taxi, the things she should have done, more than just trace the outline of my cock through my jeans. The vision shifted, I was on my back on a bed, one of them riding me enthusiastically, my hands on her bouncing breasts as she leaned backward, her hands supporting her weight on my thighs. The other sat on my face, grinding into my working tongue, the stubble on my cheeks tickling and teasing her lips and she ground into my mouth. Taking her pleasure from me as she leaned forward and ran her experienced fingers over the clit of her riding lover. More stimulation, more contact, more pleasure.

Two simultaneous moans echoed through my ears, one significantly less muffled than the other, as the vision changed again. Becky in the recliner in her room, naked. Her legs parted, her lips swollen and puffy, her wetness glistening in the dim light of her lamps, but not touching, resisting that almost irresistible urge to press her fingers into her center. Philippa on all fours on the bed in front of her, face to face, their eyes locked together. Well, as locked together as Philippa's faltering focus could manage as I pounded into her from behind. The loud spanks, the grip in her hair, the forced eye contact, the driving thrusts into her sodden sex as I took Philippa in the exact way that Becky craved for herself. Both of them teasing and being teased by the other as they watched their mutual arousal.

Becky shattered.

Her eyes were fixed on my groin as my hand worked slowly up and down my length, I didn't even realize it had moved. It may not have been the frantic thrown-to-the-wall fucking she had wanted, but she was quickly learning that my self-control was not something to underestimate. So watching my hand move idly, but determinedly, to my hardness, grasp it, squeeze it hard and start to slowly stroke had been a victory of mind-blowing and orgasm-inducing proportions.

The colors and lights behind her eyes exploded! Every shade of the rainbow swirled together, resonating and spreading from her core to fill every fiber of her being. From the follicles of the hair on her scalp to the tips of her toes as they curled into the hard, tiled floor, all of her was consumed by the light of her high. For the briefest of moments, she stopped being Becky, she stopped even being human, she was only pleasure. She'd had barely enough time to register the building of her wave before it crested and washed her conscious thought away into the boundless depths of her orgasm, Fireworks went off behind her eyes as more elaborate ones detonated in her mind. A controlled explosion that robbed her of breath, robbed her of thought, and left only the throbbing of her sex and pounding of her heart behind. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

Her head had pressed back against the tiled wall, her eyes still fixed on my hand as her sex continued to clamp around her driving fingers. Even through the haze and fog of her climax, she didn't stop; even as her legs trembled and her knees threatened to buckle underneath her. Even as her lips parted and her throaty, vibrating moan raised in pitch and power to an almost animalistic cry. Even as the rush of fluids coated her fingers and the power of her contractions gripped her and demanded that she press in deep and hold steady, to feel full. She rode herself through her high, just as Philippa had taught her, her eyes never breaking from me. Considering the vortex of mind-consuming pleasure in her mind, the fact that she managed to do any of this was - frankly - astounding.

The visions in my head were gone, there was only that cry, only those quaking and hitched breaths, only the pants and whimpered moans, only those deep and hungry, startling blue eyes. Only that... and movement.

"I need to see. I need to see them... I just... Need!" Philippa's disembodied voice whispered tentatively to itself as I felt her presence cautiously stand from her bed, step out of her room, naked and nervous, and down the corridor towards the bathroom. It was like I could feel the location of her mind as she moved. But still, that fear was there. He had left, he hadn't wanted her, she had been standing in front of him wearing only a white lace thong and a seductive smile when his gaze had faltered and his eyes had moved away. What if he was lying? What if it wasn't him, what if it was her? What if she had only ever attracted the bad boys and the players because the decent guys could never want her? What if Becky was grateful to be free of her? What if she had misread the hungry look in my eyes at her flirting as little more than polite tolerance?

Her footfalls hesitated in the hallway outside the door. I could feel the hesitancy in her hand as it reached for the doorknob, it hanging in the hair as the battle raged in her mind. Even despite the thrumming post-orgasmic glow coming from the panting and whimpering Becky, my focus was consumed by the conflict and the pain in Philippa's chest. My heart bled for her, but there was such a simple solution. She needed to feel wanted, she needed to feel desired, she needed to have that sense of rejection taken out of her mind, thrown against a wall and shot. And just on the other side of the door from where she stood now were two people able to give her that.

"Go in." My voice seemed to echo through her mind before I even consciously realized I had sent it, moreover, I had no idea how I had sent it. I just knew what she needed to hear, what I needed to say, and how to make her hear it. "You are wanted, you are welcome, and always will be. He will make you happy. It will all be okay."

It would be a while before those words came back to haunt me.

Time seemed to slow down for a moment. It was like my heightened sense of awareness was processing information from multiple sources at the same time and my perception of the passage of time had slowed to allow it. Becky's eyes flicked up from my still moving hand to my eyes. Her deep, endlessly blue eyes fixed on mine with a new seductive glint, her lips curling into a hungry smirk as she pulled herself off the wall. At the same time, Philippa's fingers curled around the doorknob, turning it slowly and tentatively before pushing the door open just a crack.

She couldn't see me from her vantage point as the door inched open and her molten, hungry brown eyes peered into the room, but she could see Becky. The white light of anticipation and excitement exploded in her mind as she took in her naked form, watching her sashay seductively through the stream of water, her eyes fixed - presumably - on me. "So they weren't fucking... she must have been... Ohhh.. good girl". The white lights glowed bright, but behind it, that deep, dark red, almost Maroon-colored throb of pain and fear of rejection tinged in the background. The door swung open a little more and she took her first nervous step inside.

The movement out of the corner of her eye caught Becky's attention, the two girl's eyes meeting, the hunger in both faltering for a second. Becky's mind reeled, not for Philippa's presence, they had shared countless showers together and it wasn't uncommon for her to invite herself to join Becky, in fact, the blonde had loved those lazy, early morning romps under the steaming water. But Philippa had to have known that she wouldn't be alone this morning... and that could only mean one thing. The question of Jimmy's whereabouts didn't enter her mind.

Becky hesitated. The idea of sharing me with her brunette lover turned her on more than words could say, but not now. This was special, it was supposed to just be us, Philippa would be invited and she would probably be invited regularly if Becky had any choice in the matter, but she should also know when she wasn't. Okay, technically our first time together, when it really mattered that we were alone, had been the night before, but her mind didn't work that way. This morning was an extension of last night. It was a single, long event and Philippa was interrupting it. A flash of green annoyance pulsed behind her eyes. And Philippa saw it on her face.

That maroon throb of fear in Philippa's consciousness exploded, engulfing her mind in a heartbeat. She froze; halfway through the door, one foot in the bathroom, one foot out, a perfect analogy for the trepidation and excitement that threatened to overwhelm her. She was being rejected again, she could see it in Becky's eyes, she shouldn't have come, she didn't need to see the look in mine to imagine the same expression. That momentary flicker of shock on the blonde's face, the drop of her eyebrows, the frown, she wasn't welcome, she wasn't wanted... again. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach and the space where it used to be threatened to cave in on itself.

I didn't question the 'how' of it. I had stopped questioning that a while ago, it would be something to discuss with Jeeves, or learn about with Charlotte at a later date, but once again, my mind reached out. This time to Becky.

"It's okay." The voice in her head told her, the soft tendrils of persuasion burrowing deep into her subconscious mind. "She was going to be joining us anyway, sooner or later, why not now? It would be sooo hot, the three of us, sharing each other. I mean, those two girls last night were strangers and I was ready to bring them home with us, and Philippa means a lot more to me than they did... Yeah, this is going to be fun!"

Becky's expression changed in a flash, Philippa and I watching in interest and anticipation as first her features softened, then morphed back into a seductive smile. The corners of her lips curled up as she held Philippa's eye, reached out for my free hand, and pulled me to her, bringing me into Philippa's view. Contrary to the first place most women looked when first seeing me naked, Philippa's eyes flicked nervously to mine. She had seen the shift in Becky's expression, but she had also seen what preceded it. That throbbing, aching doubt in the core of her chest fixed her feet firmly in place. She needed to see my face before she would allow herself to believe what the voice in her head was telling her

It will all be okay

I feigned ignorance. My still smirking face stayed fixed on Becky's until pretending to notice her eyes on the doorway and following her gaze. A faux look of surprise, then - as Becky turned her eyes to meet mine, sharing a look between us, before both of us turned back towards the door - our faces smiled warmly, seductively, and invitingly. Philippa allowed the smallest of hopeful and hungry smiles to pull at her lips before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. Leaning her naked frame against the vanity unit to watch us. I barely had enough time to take in her slender, yet curvy body before Becky - eyes still open and fixed on Philippa - hooked her finger under my chin, turned my head to hers and kissed me hard.

Becky raised her other hand towards Philippa, a single finger beckoning her closer.

Philippa licked her lips and started stepping forward, her eyes flicked almost instinctively from Becky's to mine, and they were talking to me. It was something I would have been able to understand even without my abilities, but her mind translated it all the same. "I am going to rock your world." Becky flicked her tongue over my lips, enough to make sure that Philippa could see, and then slowly started to sink down as her lover approached. Her lips trailed over my skin as she went, her tongue flicking over the curve of my throat, a deep groan escaping my chest as I tilted my head for her, scoring her another toe-curling victory.

Down over my solid chest, swirling around my nipple as Philippa stepped into the shower, sauntering closer to us. Becky's tongue glided over my abs, dipping a tongued kiss into my navel as Philippa wet herself under the streaming water and stepped closer. Her tongue traced the vee of my pelvis as her knees met the warm tiled floor, my throbbing, pulsing manhood pressing under her chin. Then, as Philippa pressed herself into my side, an arm snaking around me, and mine reaching around to cup her ass, pressing her core tight against my thigh, Becky opened her mouth and took me in. She was going to be first, first to claim me, first to claim every single part of me.

A soft, hummed moan of appreciation vibrated up my shaft and through my balls, as Becky's eyes lost focus, her man was in her mouth, her lips stretched just wide enough to make it take effort, but not too tightly to make it a struggle, like it was sized and shaped just for her. Her eyes refocused back up at us, my parted, panting lips, Philippa's seductive, approving smile. She had never had an addictive personality, but I was like a drug to her, an addiction that, the more she partook, the more she craved. The more she thought about it, the less she cared, she was on her knees, her lips sliding up and down the pulsing dick of a man who she knew absolutely adored her. She would pleasure me, please me, give me everything I could ever want and then go looking for things I had never thought of and give those to me as well.

Perhaps this was one of the many things I loved so much about her; her ability to not question things and to just accept them, to go with the flow, to open her mind and herself to new experiences and emotions without fear or hesitation. It was a quality I had always admired and abjectly lacked up until the last few months, it was a quality that she was relishing in, and every part of the position she found herself in was reinforcing it for her.

The hardness of my cock, granite-hard and pulsing with every powerful beat of my pounding heart. The hardness, the excitement, the racing heart, she had done that. It may not have been the frantic thrown-against-a-wall-and-taken that she had originally envisioned, but there was no denying the effect her display had had on me. Even Philippa, the scent of her arousal only inches from her face, the flush on her cheeks and onto her chest, was because Becky had allowed her to join, invited her in, she had heard of the term 'topping from the bottom', but this was the first time she had ever felt its potential. She was the sub, the pet, the toy, on her knees servicing her man while another girl watched, yet she was in complete control.

Philippa's mind was unusually blank as we both watched Becky starting to bob her head up and down my length, taking more and more of me with every stroke. She knew that there should be a pang of jealousy somewhere in her mind, she had seen Becky from this angle, looking up at her with her mouth occupied, more times than she could remember, but she had never seen that look of hunger, excitement or sheer devotion in her eyes before. More than that, she was standing, naked, next to an equally naked man, and with the exception of having his hand on her ass, he hadn't been able to peel his eyes off the blonde on her knees before them. She couldn't even begin to explain why, but far from making her jealous, it was exciting her even more than the sounds from earlier... and she wanted in.

She waited until Becky's eyes flicked from mine to hers, licked her lips with a sultry smile, hooked a finger under my chin, turned my head, and pressed her lips to mine, making sure Becky could see. At the same time, her hand snaked down my chest, following the path taken by Becky's lips, and wrapped her hand around the base of my cock, squeezing it a little, causing it to grow slightly in her toy's mouth, and feeding my length to our mutual lover. The wetness between Becky's legs erupted, trickles of juices crawling down her thighs, Philippa was putting on a show for her!

Philippa hummed and purred into my lips, her hips rolling against my thigh as I flexed the powerful muscle into her molten core, she wasn't quite humping herself against me, but she wasn't far off. She broke the kiss and looked down, Becky's sparkling eyes looking back up at her as her head bobbed and lathered on my cock, exploring every inch of me, delighting in how hard she had made me, every throbbing twitch was a new victory. "Fuck that's hot," Philippa whispered. "Mind if I join you?"

Becky could only answer with a deep, throaty, excited moan, and a slow shake of her head. Philippa cast another sultry look at me, winked with a new lick of her lips - this one more for effect than out of necessity - and dropped slowly to her knees, making sure to drag her dripping sex along as much of my leg as she was able. "Let me see how much of him you can take, pet."

Becky purred, another rolling vibration running along my length as Philippa lifted her hair in a hand, curled it around her fist, and started to press encouragingly onto the back of her head, her own head resting against my hip and her hot breath washing over my skin. She could see the pulse-induced throb of my cock between her lips, the hardness of my arousal, and, far from being jealous, she felt a swell of pride in her toy for being able to do this to me.

Of course, there was no way she could have known that Becky was already capable of taking every throbbing inch of me with no assistance whatsoever, a realization that Philippa suddenly came to as she pushed her down as far as she thought she was able, and Becky inhaled the rest of me on her own. "Oh fuck," she whispered in amazement, her eyes fixing on the bulge of my head stretching her neck. "Good girl, you look so fucking pretty with his cock down your throat." Becky held me deep as I groaned loudly, a sound that thrummed through the cores of both of them, and started to shake her head. I could feel my precum leaking from the tip, smearing over her tongue as she pulled off and impaled herself almost instantly back onto the full length of me. She was fucking her own face on my cock and Philippa's lips were watering. "Okay, don't be greedy, I want to taste him, as well. I've been thinking about this cock since you made me feel it in the cab."

Becky bobbed a few more times before Philippa moved in and latched her lips to the side of my cock on one of Becky's upstrokes, slowly moving up and gently, but instantly pushing Becky off. Becky released me with a pop, my saliva-coated head was in contact with fresh air for less than a second before Philippa engulfed it in her own lips.

Worldly, that's how Philippa would have liked to describe herself when it came to men, she was off bad boys now, but that hadn't always been the case, and "worldly" was more polite than admitting how much of a slut she had been in her younger years. She hadn't quite fucked anything that had caught her eye, but she had come pretty close. It was a reputation and a history that she wasn't particularly proud of, but it had taught her what she was capable of, and she knew that there was no way she was capable of fitting me down her throat in the way that Becky had. But what she lacked in throat capacity, she could more than make up for in sloppy enthusiasm.

Philippa face fucked herself onto my cock, there was no other way to describe it, her cheeks hollowed and her tongue swirled energetically and vigorously around my head as she plunged her head on and off my cock, taking as much as she was able. Her hair bounced around her shoulders and the drool and spittle from her mouth started frothing and foaming, marking the deepest point she could take me, she hummed and purred, twisting her head and wrapping her hands around me, grasping my ass and pulling me into her. If it wasn't for Becky, this would easily be the best blowjob of my entire life.

Becky moaned to herself as she watched. She had never seen Philippa with another man, in fact, aside from her mini voyeur session with the two nurses in the cleaning closet that Charlotte had orchestrated, she had never seen anything like this outside of porn at all, and her core burned with desire. Every sordid fantasy, every hungry desire to watch her lover and her man, none of them even came close to the reality. A lesser girl would have smirked, even internally, at the small victory of being able to take more of me than she could, but that thought didn't even cross my sweet Becky's mind. It wasn't in her nature. Philippa was pleasuring me, the panted, moaning breaths being pulled from my lips and the almost imperceptible tremble in my legs was more than enough proof of that, and her mind sung with delight at the thought. She turned herself, pressing her back against my thighs and pushed backward. Forcing my legs to part and slipping herself between them, craning her head upwards, her legs spread wide, and sucked one of my heavy, swinging balls into my mouth.

Philippa didn't miss a beat, she knew what her toy liked and was more than willing to give it to her. I wasn't the only one capable of giving Becky pleasure, just like she wasn't the only one capable of pulling that moan out of my throat. She reached a hand forward and trailed it teasingly through Becky's folds, spreading her fingers and fanning them over her clit, strumming and playing with her swollen, sensitive nub with almost the same expert touch as Becky was capable of providing herself. The whimpered moan that vibrated through my balls was answered almost immediately as Becky, knowing exactly what her lover liked as well, pushed two fingers deep into Philippa's dripping wetness.

Throughout it all, and despite the indescribable levels of pleasure, I followed both of their minds, smothering any jealous or competitive thoughts, playful competition was fine, anything more than that was swept aside. "Sharing is caring" was a sentiment that was being burned into their psyche. I traced the bursts of color as Philippa instantly found and strummed the exact spot where those flashes of yellow pleasure burst the brightest in Becky's mind. I followed purring, pressure-building spasms behind Philippa's clit as Becky, knowing she liked the red-tinged burst of a little pain, spanked her clit harder and harder with each rough demanding thrust of her fingers into her lover. Both of them getting higher, both of them driving the other closer to the edge, both of them more than eager to fall over it with the other, but neither willing to do so until I had given them what they both craved so badly.

They wanted my cum.

No, they needed it, they craved it. My pleasure - thanks to my less than subtle manipulations - was at the absolute forefront of their minds. They were addicts needing that fix, starving women looking for that first meal, it was a marrow-deep, burning hunger that only my release could sate.

I was more than willing to give it to them.

Becky noticed first, my balls tightening in her mouth as she pulled gently at them and swirled them around her tongue. Philippa wasn't far behind as my clenching balls forced their payload up my shaft, swelling and inflating it between her lips, the precum lubing my tubes being forced out in greater and greater volumes, smearing over her tongue and giving her a steady, moaning taste of what was coming.

My breathing came harder, faster, shallower, and more urgent, my toes started to curl into the warm tiles beneath my feet, my hips started instinctively rocking into Philippa's mouth, the moans coming from my mouth had grown to something more primal, growls replacing the moans. Becky moved first, pulling herself back onto her knees next to Philippa, pushing her head in to lick and slurp at the froth of her lover's drool around my shaft. Philippa backed off a little, making room for her, sucking less and less of me into her mouth until both of them had part of my crown in their lips and were swirling and flicking their tongue over the tip. Both of them moaning and panting in wanton desperation.

It was my turn to have fireworks go off behind my eyes.

It took me a moment to realize that the roaring groan echoing in my ears was coming from me, my back arched, my body tensed, my toes curled hard against the warm tiled floor, and Becky - still determined to claim the first of every part of me - swallowed my entire length into her throat, nudging Philippa to the side as she did. I could only imagine the kaleidoscope of color that would have been exploding in my own mind

I erupted into her mouth, the first powerful rope spurting straight down her throat as I throbbed and jerked violently between her lips before she pulled back and held the tip of me between her lips. Forceful, relentless throbs of my cock pulsed my voluminous, hot load into her mouth, splashing off the roof of her mouth and the hollow of her cheeks, streaking over her tongue, Becky moaned deeply as the taste of me flooded her senses. Philippa could only watch in impotent, moaning silence as I drained my balls into her toy's mouth.

My panted breathes and breathless pants were the only sound the three of us made for a few short moments as the last of me emptied into my nurse's mouth, the silence interrupted by a long, hungry groan as Becky pulled off me with a pop, holding my seed in her mouth. Both girls seemed to be of one mind, Becky turning and parting her lips as Philippa sealed hers against them, their tongues dancing between them, I could only watch as my sizable load, apparently large enough to share, was passed back and forth between them in a deep, passionate, almost frenzied kiss. Both of them groaned at the taste of me before breaking the kiss, looking up at me and, in an act of almost scripted synchronicity which had nothing to do with my manipulations, opened their mouths to show off their prize, closed again and swallowed.

As mornings went, this was shaping up to be a pretty good one.

There was a warmth to it, Becky felt it more acutely than her brunette lover, but Philippa felt it in no insignificant amount. A burning heat spread through each of them from the seed now taken safely into their bellies, spreading out to fill all of them, vibrating like flashes of white-hot heat in their cores. Neither of them had reached climax from their mutual stimulation while their mouths had been servicing me, and neither of them had given it a second thought. There would be more than enough time for that. Both of them knew I wouldn't be able to stay long after this tryst, and both of them were already picturing the mind-blowing time they would dedicate to each other after I had left.

Becky, having taken the first load of the morning into her mouth, thrummed with the notion that Philippa was now licking my taste off her pillowy lips only because she had allowed it. A new fantasy started to bubble to the surface, she wanted to taste me again, but this time, she wanted to taste my load directly from Phillipa's folds after I had filled her. She wanted to gift her lover my seed, and then suck it all back out again. If Phillipa wanted to taste her man again, it would be on Becky's terms.She had no idea where this new sense of power had come from, nor did she care. She was relishing it.

Phillipa was trying to pretend that she didn't care, she knew her place in this relationship, she was a guest and her pet, her toy, was the gatekeeper. She wanted everything, she wanted to fuck and be fucked, watch and be watched, if she was going to be in on this whole deal, she wanted to be in all the way. But one look at her enraptured lover's face told her that Becky simply wouldn't allow it. Phillipa had known it before that moment, she had known it before the night that had preceded it, she had known it maybe even before her pet had, but Becky was in love. Phillipa would always be a guest, a regular guest, a welcome guest, an almost permanent fixture of the relationship between Becky and I, but a guest nonetheless.

The first stirrings of... something... were already starting, and I abjectly failed to spot them.

The thought was swallowed down as fast as it had emerged. A hungry purr rippled from her chest as Philippa, not Becky - whose eyes were staring adoringly up at me - noticed first that I was still vigorously hard. Throbbingly, achingly, almost painfully hard. "I think our stud needs more," she whispered in an almost reverent tone.

Becky's eyes flicked down, seeing, for the first time, the object of Philippa's hungry fascination. Becky had already been introduced to my new sexual stamina, almost violently so. "I want to watch him fuck you," she whispered back, her tone and the sincerity of it surprised even her. It was almost a prayer, but it was far from finished. "You aren't going to be able to walk properly after he is done with you, you are going to have to beg him to stop."

Philippa almost whimpered, half in lustful anticipation, but with her eyes watching my manhood pulsing with angry need, the other half was the realization that this wasn't prideful boasting. "Oh fuck" she moaned.

"And if you don't milk his balls into you, you can suck it from my cunt after he finishes in me." Becky continued challengingly, the sexually charged assertion from her earlier act in the shower coming back in abundance.

"Oh, Jesus."

"Have you ever had a man fuck your brains out, baby?" Becky teased, growing more confident by the word, her eyes locked on to Philippa's as the brunette's eyes stayed fixed on my groin. "I know you can take a vibe pretty hard, and your wand is powerful, but have you ever had a real cock fuck you until you go blind with pleasure?" Becky crawled forward a little, pressing up against Philippa's side, her hand coming up to slowly stroke me as she taunted her friend with sultry whispers into her ear. "That's what he did to me last night, he fucked the shit out of me, he collared me, he pounded my slutty little fuck hole until my body went limp, and when he pumped his load into me..." her eyes fluttered a little at the memory "...fuck, there was so much! So much cock and so much cum. He filled me, baby. He pumped my little cunt full... just before he claimed me." I am not even going to try to articulate what her words were doing to me, and that single teasing glance upwards at me told me that this show was as much for my benefit as it was for her lovers.

"Oh God," Philippa panted, her eyes turned to Becky's and flicked down to the collar, the first tightenings of an orgasm already starting to grow behind her clit despite nothing or nobody touching anything near it, she felt the word rise before she could even think to stop it, "...please." Phillipa had never had much of a submissive streak, but god-damned, she was finding it now.

And that collar, the gossamer black threads meshing together in a way that amounted to so much more than the sum of their parts... She had never wanted one; before that moment, she couldn't ever imagine a man - or woman, for that matter - ever earning her submission. But now she wanted her own with every fiber of her being, visions of her kneeling, holding her hair aside to be claimed by her man filled her mind... No, not her man, Becky's man, the head of the Harem which she would suddenly give anything to be part of. She could feel it now, as if it had been the most obvious fact on earth: this is where she belonged, this was the means to her contentment, and the man eyeing over both of them would make her complete... only he could give her happiness

The smile on Becky's flushed face almost threatened to crack it open. "Take him to your bed, baby." she purred. "Lead him there, let us see you, let him see all of you. I want you to look at your bed and remember it as the place where you were first taken by my man."

A spark of green flashed through Philippa's mind at the word "my" but she crushed it even before I could. She rose with a panting nod, turned, and... well... 'walked' would be a grossly inaccurate word to use here. As Becky pulled me after her by the hand on my cock, Philippa worked every muscle she could think of to put on a show as we moved back to her bedroom. Her hips swayed, her feet crossed one over the other with each step, anything to sashay those glorious hips just a little more, she looked back over her shoulder at us, flicking her luxurious hair, winking and licking her lips, arching her spine to thrust out her ample chest. It couldn't have been the most comfortable way to walk, but, dear God, it was effective. By the time we got to her bedroom, I felt like a caged animal, ready to pounce on the first piece of flesh I could find, but Becky held me still. "I'm going to let you choose how he takes you." she purred to Philippa, sliding down my body, dragging her dripping wet pussy down my thigh as she dropped to her knees, adding. "He is going to throw you around like his little fuck doll, but I am going to let you choose how you start."

Becky slipped the head of my precum-glazed cock back into her hot, hungry mouth, pushing all the way down, my crown bumping against, and then pressing through, the entrance to her throat, bulging her neck for a few seconds before she started to bob. She wanted Phillipa to watch while her mind scrambled to make a decision. The brunette's knees almost buckled underneath her as she watched her pet taking all of me, working and sucking me with her expert touch, and apparently, it would seem, more than willing to do the job herself if her lover didn't decide soon.

I could see the moisture smeared over Phillipa's thighs even from where I was stood, I could see her grinding them together, I could see her thighs trembling and her breasts rising and falling with each hungry breath as her pet tormented her, but more than that, I could see the blinding white light of her anticipation burning through her mind. Every conceivable position in and out of the Karma Sutra flashed behind her eyes. She wanted to ride me, she wanted to bounce her cock craving cunt onto my granite hard pole until she screamed, but no, she wanted to be taken, she wanted to be fucked, she could show off her own skills later. She wanted me to throw her over the bed and fuck her until her pussy was bruised and sore. Becky had been right to question it, she'd been with plenty of men, but none of them had given her the experience that Becky claimed to have had last night and one look at the manhood sliding in and out of her pet's throat told her that I might be the man to give it to her. No, not bent over, she had no doubt she would end up in that position, she just didn't want to start that way, she couldn't really place why. Fuck... she wanted me in her ass, she couldn't even begin to imagine the stretch... she didn't usually even like anal.

"I need to see his face," she finally whimpered as the 'guhs and 'glicks' from Becky's sloppy throat echoed around the room. "I want his weight on me, I want him all over me, I want to feel..." she struggled for the world, but also completely failed to notice that she was saying all of this to Becky, not to me.

Becky pulled herself off my pulsing, rampant cock and turned to look over at her tormented lover. "You want to feel possessed." she finished Philippa's sentence with a knowing smile. "You want to feel claimed... you want to surrender."

Philippa's head swam. Fuck, how did Becky know her this well? Nobody had ever been as deep into her psyche as Becky had been. Every button pushed, every detail understood and manipulated and every tremble of her body interpreted exactly. More importantly, if only in my mind, I hadn't helped in the slightest, this - all of this - was purely intuition on the part of a submissive who had not just been serving, but learning as well. She had Philippa down to the T. "Please... I need it." were the only words she could muster as she dropped, almost pleadingly, onto the edge of the bed.

A single look from Becky was all I needed, that sultry, teasing, smirk that spoke volumes without speaking at all... "fuck her brains out!"... I took the last few steps to close the distance between me and the bed, Philippa's legs falling open almost by reflex as I approached. She seemed to have an idea of what was coming, and I was determined to show her that she had no idea at all.

With one swift motion, I grasped hold of her legs and pulled them high, she yelped in surprise as the new angle of her hips pressed her into the bed, only able to grip the sheets and watch as I spread them in a vertical splayed vee, angled my hips and drove my cock into her with a brutal intent that took her breath away. She almost choked on the gasp she tried to rapidly suck in when it collided with the high pitch squeal that was pressed out of her lungs by my full heavy length being rammed into her in that single first thrust.

Becky had been fucked hard the night before, but she had been built up to it, there had been teasing, foreplay, by the time she had been thrown onto the bed, she had known what was coming. Philippa had no such luxury, only Becky's words had hinted at the savagery that was about to be pounded into her saturated, molten core and a part of her had wondered if there was a little infatuation induced exaggeration in them. The wide eyes, the panted breaths and the white-knuckle grip of her hands on the sheets were the only indication I needed that she was being corrected, one driving thrust at a time.

My hand swung back and slapped hard onto her rippling ass, an underarm swing that connected perfectly to leave a burning red handprint on her cheek, her leg - now free of my grip - falling onto my shoulder. I leaned back for a second, still thrusting hard, the new angle pummeling my crown into her g-spot as I hooked her other leg onto the same shoulder as the first, pressing her thighs together and clamping her pussy down onto my pistoning shaft. Philippa's eyes almost shot out of her head as her first orgasm ripped through her.

"Holy fucking shit!!!" She screamed out, trying to lean herself up to watch her pussy taking the battering of a lifetime. Philippa may have been a Domme to Becky, but never to a man. That being said, she was never passive either. She would seduce them, take them home, ride them and get them to do her bidding until she was satisfied, and then let them spend whatever energy and stamina they may have had left on her in whatever way they felt... more than a few didn't last that long. This was the first time she had been taken like this, the first time she had understood - properly - what Becky had felt all those times with her.

Consumed, taken, possessed... Owned.

In contrast to Becky's wailing screams, Philippa's first cum had been punctuated by an almost silent screech that had ended with a gasped intake of breath. "Oh my Fuck!" she yelled between panted breaths "fuck me, fuck me, oh my fucking GOD, make me yours!!"

Becky, who had climbed onto the bed and had been lazily stroking a finger through her folds, grinned almost malevolently and shuffled forward. It was only my abilities that allowed me to hear what the blond was saying to the brunette over the loud wet slaps of my hips impacting Philippa's

"You can say it," She said, her voice barely a whisper and her hot breath washing over her ear. "We all know it, you just have to say it." Philippa's eyes glazed over a little, her mind lost between the monologue and the explosive yellows and oranges in her mind. "You are his whore, his fuck toy, his dripping, needy, panting cumslut... when he pumps his load into you, you are going to cum so fucking hard, arent you?"

"Oh fuuuckkk" The slur of Philippa's groan, mixed with the sudden increase in the trembles along my pistoning shaft were almost enough to send me over the edge.

Almost.

Becky's hand snaked over her lover's throat, over the top of her chest, and onto her bouncing breast, latching her fingers onto a nipple and pinching it hard. Philippa's eyes shot open as the burst of red went off like fireworks behind her eyes, distracting her from the sunfire pleasure for just a moment, which in turn only served to amplify it. "SAY IT!"

"Oh my God," Philippa screamed out, her eyes locked on mine with the hunger of a woman finally waking from a lifelong slumber. "Fuck, Pete. I am your whore, I am your slut, I am fucking yours. Use me, take me... Make me your bitch! I am your fucking Bitch! Oh Jesus fucking christ, I am going to fucking cum... please, please can I cum, please let me cum, oh fuck, pleeaasssseeeee."

Becky smirked a little wider and tugged her mistress's nipple out harder, adding a stretch to the twist, her mind singing in this sudden shift in power dynamics. When they were alone, Philippa was queen, but when I was here, I was the undisputed King, and Becky was my first. Both of them seemed to understand this almost instinctively, whereas I was relying on their minds to keep me up to date. I was beginning to appreciate that I was grossly under informed when it came to how all of this worked. "Good girl," Becky whispered, adding a prolonged pause as her eyes held mine. "Cum for him. Show him how a whore shatters for her Man!"

Women are the more fortunate sex, even if only by the virtue of being able to be completely surprised by the scale and nature of their orgasms. Guys cum, there may be more or less of it, but it feels largely the same every time. A woman can cum in a hundred different ways, soft and gentle, hard and panting, that dull throb or an intensity that leaves them breathless. The orgasm that smashed through Philippa felt like it would end her. Every muscle contracted, the convulsions racked her body, her breath caught in her throat for just long enough for her to start to panic, her hair follicles tingled, and her toes curled next to my head so hard it seemed like they would break. Her abs clenched so tight that her shoulders were pulled off the bed, and her body tried to curl itself into a ball.

Her mouth had fallen open into a perpetually held O that only opened slightly wider as she sucked in a deep, wheezed breath after that almost silent orgasmic wail. Her eyes were locked on mine, albeit barely able to focus, and a look of abject pleasure, total shock, and complete surrender washed over her face. The look was fleeting.

I pulled out of her and flipped her roughly onto her front, he legs planted firmly on the ground, grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to bow her spine, pushing her upturned throat into the bed and keeping her head pinned down, forcing her body to present her open, dripping and more-that-willing pussy to my onslaught as I drove back into her with a force that shoved the air right out of her. The hammering thrusts were aimed directly at her battered g-spot, forcing her tunnel open and stretching it around my cock. The vice-like grip of her inner walls squeezed my shaft like nothing I had ever felt as I pistoned in and out of her with a power that, under any other circumstances, would have hurt her.

The noises that were being buffeted out of Philippa were carnal, primal, and barely coherent. Just a series of deep whimpered grunts as I hammered into her. My pace didn't slow, nor did the power being smashed into her lessen. It was like the crown of my cock had determined that her cervix was nothing more than a barrier in its way, and it had resolved to smash its head through it. Her g-spot was little more than collateral damage in my rampancy. The drooling, fuck drunk nurse hanging off the end of my cock had long since been capable of registering the pain that flashed through her mind, the reds being absorbed into the yellows, and the colors of my savage fucking were burning themselves onto her psyche in a way I wouldn't fully understand for quite some time.

I fucked her like she was property, like she was owned, like her only purpose at this moment was to coat my cock in her juices and cum almost endlessly. The only mission peeking through the fog of lust and pleasure was the overwhelming urge to take my seed, to let her spasming, contracting sex milk my balls dry. Despite all she had accomplished in her life, despite all the hard work, both professionally and personally, regardless of all the relationships she had forged along the way, in that moment, Philippa was nothing by an overtly willing hole for me to savage, a body for me to fuck, and a mind to claim.

Every thought was being pounded out of her. There was a brief flash of inspiration, one that told her that she was in the perfect position for Becky to slip in front of her and smother her with the cunt that her blonde toy was currently fingering furiously. Philippa barely registered the blur of motion as Becky hammered two fingers into herself before the thought was dismissed with another mind-searing orgasm. All she was capable of focusing on was the pleasure, the pure, undiluted, indescribably pleasure. Screaming, thrashing, and trying to fuck herself back onto my driving cock was all she was capable of. Tonguing Becky was simply beyond her.

Another brief thought flashed to Jimmy, but instead of being tainted with that sorrow and heartbreak of only a little while earlier, she felt something akin to gratitude. She was having the fuck of her life, something that would never have happened if Jimmy had stuck around. She was now glad he had walked away, so she could dedicate her body, her mind, her soul to the Titan fucking into her from behind. The sadist in me, the inner dominant, the carnal creature deep within me, smirked possessively as she turned the pain of his rebuttal into abject devotion and submission to me.

"Oh my god, That is so fucking hot, I am going to CUM!" Becky screamed out, momentarily snapping both of us from the haze of pleasure in Philippa's mind. Both of us finally saw the intensity of the fingering that Becky was inflicting on herself. There was no doubt that she would be feeling more than a little tender later.

"No, you're not!" I snapped, the words coming out before my conscious mind could follow the logic. Once again, I was operating on pure instinct, the desires of these two sirens mixing together to form a narrative that my own mind was picking up and acting out. Her eyes snapped up to mine, almost instantly dilating as she saw the power and the intensity behind mine. "You are going to hold it, then when this slut cums again, you are going to sit on my face and ride me hard until you cum. You are going to feed me your release while your mistress fucks my cock!"

"Oh fuck!" She whimpered, trying desperately to hold onto the threads of her control, "Yes, Sir! Fuck, make her cum, make the bitch scream, show her how a real man fucks!"

It would still be a little while before I realised that my own enjoyment of dirty talk during sex was being projected to them, making them say the things that, even if they thought them - as Becky did, but Philippa didn't - they would never have the confidence to say out loud. At least not until their comfort, trust, and confidence in me had been built.

A loud crack echoed around the room as I spanked Philippa's rippling ass, a high pitched yelp escaping her lips before another landed on her other cheek. With another squeal, she turned her head to look back at me over her shoulder, the fires of lust burning beyond any sort of control in her eyes, and panted "More, please... Fuck,... more, oh my fucking GOD, fuck me, use me, I am going to explode on your dick. Take it! Take me! Fuckkkk! I am your CUNTTTT!!."

The last word fell out of her as her entire body tightened up, and a long, ear-splitting scream was forced from her lips. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, her pupils seemingly incapable of looking anywhere other than into her own skull. The power clenched down on my still pistoning cock was incredible, feeling like it was trying to rip my cock from my body and suck it all the way into her. The force of it clamping down on her bladder as her entire body was racked by convulsive spasms and her pussy squirted her juices out of her, all of my balls, our thighs and splashing onto the floor next to the bed. Philippa was literally vibrating, her whole body shaking as her climax ripped through her. Every nerve ending seemed to burst, overwhelmed by the sort of pleasure she had always dismissed as a myth.

For a few seconds, her mind went completely blank as her conscious brain gave up and walked away for a breather.

She was still cumming as I pulled out of her, the sweat pouring off my body, a sheen of it glistening in the morning light as Philippa, her body no longer held up by my cock or my grip on her, slumped to her knees, still laid over the bed.

Becky was moving in an instant, pulling me to lay flat on the bed, my head on the pillows, as her mouth engulfed my soaked cock. Of course, the real contents of a squirting orgasm are up for debate in the world of men and women who didn't know any better. But Becky knew exactly what had happened, knew exactly what was dripping off my cock, and stuffed every inch of me into her throat regardless. Humming and moaning loudly as her head bobbed furiously up and down my length.

Gripping her hips, I pulled her over me, taking a moment to look up into her puffy, red, swollen, and leaking pussy, before pulling her down onto my mouth, dragging my tongue through her delicious tasting slit and sucking her clit into my mouth. It was my turn to groan at the taste.

"Oh god, that was... oh fuck.. I can't... even... Breathe properly." Philippa's ragged, breathy voice panted weakly, only my abilities allowing me to hear her through the muffling effect of Becky's squeezing thighs around my ears.

"You heard your Master, slut..." Becky replied, momentarily slipping my cock from her mouth to reply to her roomate, lover, and mistress. "... get your ass up here and ride this cock before I do!"

A dozen thoughts passed through the brunette's mind in an instant. The first being the use of my title... Master... the momentary unfamiliarity of it, then the complete and utter acceptance of it. In half a heartbeat, she knew that she had been claimed, taken, and possessed; that she had given herself to me in ways that she never imagined was possible. Not a single shred of her regretted or doubted her new place in the world.

The next thought was a simple whimper. Her body aching in complaint as her mind tried to move it. There was a single, almost innocuous realization that despite hardly moving, her body had literally had the energy fucked out of it and that nobody, not even Becky, had ever come close to doing to her what I had.

Finally, there was the solidifying of her resolve. If I was her Master, then she was going to embrace it. She was going to be the best fuck slave in the long annals of history, she wasn't going to give me a single reason to doubt her commitment, her devotion, her lust or her love for me...

That last part made her pause for a moment. I could see her mind rolling it around, tasting it, trying it out, as I lashed my tongue against Becky's clit, pulling another deep moan as the Blonde teetered on the edge of her own orgasm. I watched as Philippa's mind surrendered to itself, realizing the truth of her declaration and accepting it wholeheartedly... She pulled herself onto the bed, shoving her lover off my cock and swinging a leg over my hips. "Move!" She ordered mirthfully, "Let me show you how a real owned whore fucks her Master and his big, beautiful dick!"

Becky's giggle was cut short as I raked my teeth over her clit.

I lifted Becky up a little, just enough to meet Philippa's eyes beyond the aching wetness of Becky's pussy. "You are only allowed to cum when I do!" I ordered, the intensity of my eyes letting her know that this was in no way a request.

I could almost see the order burning itself into her mind, a submissive shudder rolling through her body as he positioned herself over my cock, "Y... Yes, Master!" She then impaled herself onto me, fucking me with the same wild abandon as I had subjected her to. Becky moaned deeply as she looked down to watch her lover's cunt swallowing her Master's cock, then moaned louder as I pulled her back onto me, driving my tongue deep into her.

The rest of the marathon fuck was a blur of muffled sounds and heightened sensations. With Becky perched happily on my face, I couldn't see anything, and my hearing was seriously dampened by her thighs clamping down harder and harder onto my head. What little I could hear was almost entirely filled with screams, moans, pants, and goading encouragement from one of my girls to the other. Philippa's power and passion grew to levels neither of us thought her capable of. The loud wet slaps of her hammering her ass down onto my hips and pummeling my cock up into her bounced around the room, with each yelped grunt getting louder and more urgent. Her mind was telling her that she should have cum at least another two or three times by now, but my orders had buried themselves deep. She was now fucking me like she was using her cunt to jerk off my cock. Almost her entire being was consumed by the need to feel my seed spurting into her, the release that she knew would follow, and the earth shattering pleasure that filled the time and the effort it would take to get there.

Becky was barely holding on. She had taken to using Philippa to distract herself from the pleasure of my tongue fucking her. She had already been primed before she climbed onto my face, but - despite not being told to hold it - was determined to cling onto her own climax until Philippa and I reached ours. On the scale of orgasmic power, she already knew that this one was going to be biblical. She didn't care, she wanted to be shattered, mind, body, and soul, she wanted this to break her. She wanted to wake up the next day still feeling the satisfaction that the two most important people in her world had given her. She remembered her reluctance to allow Philippa in earlier, but couldn't for the life of her remember why... In terms of arousal, this was a seismic shift above and beyond anything she had ever even imagined before. This pleasure was her world now, and she was making herself at home.

Able to control my own release, I had tracked the building pleasure, and pressure in both of my girls. I could keep this going for hours, and only give them the seed they wanted when I was ready. They, on the other hand, had no such luxury... Like an ever tightening elastic band, pushing things too far could break it. I wasn't sure if I could do any actual damage by denying them their orgasms any longer, but given the pressure that was building in Philippa's head, the threat of a burst blood vessel or an actual honest-to-god heart attack started to seem like an actual possibility. As much fun as it was listening to her increasingly desperate cries, and as delicious as it was to swallow mouthfuls of Becky's freely flowing pussy cream, the time came to give them what they wanted.

The roar that escaped my lips seemed to take both of them by surprise. My hands, which had been wandering over the four tits bouncing above me, suddenly gripped onto Philippa's hips and pulled her down onto me with a power and an urgency I knew would leave bruises. Becky recognised it first, her scream piercing the morning air as her cunt flooded her juices onto my face as her body trembled and confused on top of me.

I was next, still roaring out between swallowing mouthfuls of Becky's nectar, I arched my back to feed as much of my cock into Phillipa as I could and exploded, the first rope spurting hard into her cervix, splashing against it with a power that she couldn't quite comprehend.

Philippa ceased to exist. She may have screamed, she may have thrashed, she may have bucked and writhed, she may have dug her nails into my chest hard enough to draw blood, she would never be able to remember. Pleasure was all she was able to understand, all she was able to feel, her entire world, all of existence in its infinite splendor, collapsed around her until there was nothing... there was no me, there was no her, there was no Becky... all that existed was the feeling of rope after powerful rope of thick, hot, voluminous cum splashing into her. Over and over. Again and again. Each jerking, flexing pump of my cock seemed to set off another climax, each one individually would have been the best of her life, but they seemed to add together, building and growing into something that the English language was grossly under-equipped to describe.

She had never been a religious person, but for a moment, she felt like she had touched the face of God.

I had pushed a few of the girls in my life beyond anything they had experienced before, but this was on an entirely different level. For as long as she would be alive, Philippa would be incapable of even looking at me without this moment sparking nerves in her pussy to remind her of the pleasure. Everything about her had become about the pleasure she knew she could only get from me.

No matter how much control I had over myself, even I lost track of how long that single moment lasted. The acoustic harmony of our mixed cries of ecstasy echoed around the room and my ears as Becky's spasming legs released their grip on my head. Philippa managed a few short, sharp, whole-body thrashes on my cock before collapsing to the side and sprawling out, unable to do anything more than breath. Becky flopped down next to her, rolling around a few times in a breathless, euphoric giggle. I just lay back, panting.

Amazingly, it was Philippa who spoke first, her head managing the apparently herculean task of turning to Becky. "Please..." Her voice was ragged and hoarse. "I know he's yours, but... I need... I can't go back... I ... Please."

Becky smiled, pulling herself up and slowly, tenderly kissing Philippa before answering her. "He's mine..." We both watched Philippa's crestfallen eyes for a moment. "... But I will share him with you... with some conditions."

"Name them... anything... please"

"First..." Becky leaned in to kiss her again. "...No other cock, ever! I am his slut, and now you are too. You commit completely."

"Yes... God Yes..." Philippa replied breathlessly, the first glimmers of hope glowing in her eyes. "...absolutely."

"Second... Nothing changes when it's just us, but when he is here, He is mine first" the pointed look Becky gave her lover couldn't be confused, nor could the unspoken rule behind its meaning. "Which means you are second."

Philippa paused for a moment. It was a conflict I could see in her mind, but we all knew that there was no way she was backing out now. "He is... yours first."

I know what you're thinking, I could have stepped in here at any point to lay down rules of my own. But I have already established I was an asshole, and having two girls negotiate over having me was doing wonders for my rapidly inflating ego and I was feeling more than a little smug.

"Third..." Becky's eyes sparkled a little, the mischief dancing behind them. Philippa groaned, her legs clamping together in a wave of sexual frustration. Becky reached a hand down and pushed her legs back open. "... I want his cum back." She winked and slid down Philippas body as another deep moan fell from the lips of the prone brunette.

Submission, I was quickly learning, was all in the mind. Many people, myself included before this point, would have seen the act of Becky sucking my cum out of Philippas well fucked and still convulsing pussy as a position of pure submission, being made to clean her lover. But in the minds of both women, it was quite the opposite. Becky wasn't cleaning Phillipa, she was reclaiming my seed. She had seen, as I had, the effect that being filled had had on the brunette, she had watched the explosive orgasm and tracked the glow of sensation as she took all of me. She had heard the frantic cries give way to deep, guttural moans, then the moans drop down to low, satisfied purrs as the warmth of my load filled and consumed her. But that cum belonged to Becky, it was hers to do with as she wished. She had let her lover feel it, let her relish in it; she had given her the briefest, teasing glimpse of what Becky would get to feel regularly. She had loaned out the pleasure of it and was now taking it back. Philippa, steel reeling from an orgasm of monumental scale, rejoiced in the feeling of Becky's tongue, then felt her heart sink at the understanding of its meaning and shattered completely at the realization of its truth.

* * * * * * * * * *

An hour later, I was home.

I had left the girls in each other's arms, their clits grinding sensually into each other as, with the realization that I didn't have time to join them for more fun dawned on them, they turned their amorous intentions on each other. I had left after giving them both a deep, passionate kiss, tasting Becky's juices on Philippa's lips and Philippa's pleasure on Becky's, chuckling to myself as Philippa had instantly reasserted her dominance over my blonde nurse, throwing her onto her back and promptly sitting on her face, grinding into it so hard that I wouldn't be surprised if Becky chipped a tooth or broken a nose. Things, after all, were no different to the way they always had been now that I was leaving. The pair of them had burst into uncontrollable fits of giggles when I climbed off the bed and promptly slipped on the remnants of Philippa's squirting orgasm on the hardwood floor. I had given them both a faux scolding glare, to which they had both giggled more but added a "sorry Master" before falling back into each other's arms.

There are no words in the English language that could describe how much I wanted to stay, but - and here is the part where I continue to sound like the complete fucking idiot asshole I was back then - I had a date to get ready for.

Fuck, I'm a moron!

It would be some time before my decision to leave them that day would become one of the biggest single regrets of my entire life.

The expense of an uber home was swallowed up by my newly enhanced bank card, still something I was struggling to get used to. In the pre-Evo days, it would have taken a train and two buses to cross the city from their house to the Queen's head, a not inconsiderable amount of money - to a student - and a sizable chunk of the day to go with it. The city was many things, it was vibrant, it was attractive, it was steeped in history, it was not, however, easy to traverse. The first twenty minutes after arriving home were dedicated to a shower. Ironic, considering I was taking a shower to wash away the residue of the last one I had attempted to take. Ten minutes to get dressed, and twenty seconds to cross the hallway and hammer the shit out of Jimmy's front door.

"Dude! What the fuck?" he exclaimed as he opened it, only to be shoved aside as I stepped through the threshold.

"Funny, that's what I was going to say!"

"Ah"

"Not the greatest of starts. But do go on." I stared at my friend for a few pointed seconds before his shoulders dropped.

"Alright, look..." he said, trudging further into his apartment and slumping onto his sofa with a heavy sigh. In the lottery of apartment furniture allocation, I had lucked out with the TV, Jimmy had gotten the good couch. I couldn't decide if I should have been jealous or not, considering he used both of them far more than I did. "I suppose I owe you an explanation for bailing on you." he finished.

"Me... Phillipa... I hope there is more than one to go around."

He was quiet for a little while, his mind struggling with the apparently colossal task of reliving the events of the previous night, trying to explain, even to himself, what had happened, and working out what words to use to communicate the whole thing to me... It wasn't going well. Jimmy was often accused of having a one-track mind, and right now, that track was experiencing traffic problems.

"I couldn't do it to her." He finally said.

"I'm pretty sure she wanted you to. She was right there, white thong and a smile, I think she said." I lied about the last bit, Philippa hadn't actually said a word about Jimmy and Becky had caught on well enough not to ask.

"What?" Jimmy looked genuinely confused for just long enough to make me worry that I had misunderstood the whole thing. "Oh! No, not Philippa..." even he cringed as he heard for himself how bad those words sounded when said out loud. I just arched an eyebrow for him to continue. He sighed again and, somehow, managed to slump even deeper into the sofa. "Lori," he finally said.

There was a pause.

"I'm not following." I had given it an appropriate amount of time before saying this, and not just for effect. It wasn't even inaccurate. Even my powers couldn't help me make sense of the mess of Jimmy's thought processes.

"We hooked up last week when you were with Evie, you knew that, right?" he said slowly. I nodded. "We've been messaging all week, we met up a few times... not for fun, but, like, actual dates and stuff. I... I like her, dude... like.. Like her, like her."

The realization dawned on me; more accurately, it fell on me like a ton of bricks. He hadn't brushed Philippa off to be an asshole, he was trying to do the right thing. All of his behavior from the night before suddenly made sense, from trying to provoke a response from Charlotte and Philippa to drinking too much, to his silence in the cab. He was trying to distract himself from the feeling that he was about to cheat on someone he genuinely liked... no.. not liked. Jimmy had fallen for her.

I frowned inwardly at myself. This should not be the first I was hearing of this, Jimmy may have ended the night in a drunken, hard-to-read fog, but he certainly hadn't started it that way, and I had picked up nothing. I suppose his thoughts of Lori had not concerned me, and so had been silent to my mind. As powerful as my gift was, I wasn't omnipotent.

"I told Lori about the double date before we went, she was cool with it, or at least she said she was." he went on. "But I could see it, you know? It hurt her, or bothered her, or... something. And the more the night went on, the more that look kept popping back into my head, and the more it mattered to me. Then, before I knew it, I'm in Philippa's room, a girl I would have jumped on in a heartbeat, she was literally throwing herself at me, and... all I could think was, 'I shouldn't be here'"

"Does she know?"

"I tried telling her before I left, but... She didn't want to hear it."

"I meant Lori."

"Oh." The look on his face seemed to lighten a little, almost to a smile, and the being 'entirely un-alone' that I had sensed this morning also suddenly made sense.

"Yes, I know." Lori's voice came, right on cue, as she stepped out of the bathroom, apparently having just gotten out of the shower. "Prince charming called me at... 3.45am, I think it was, inviting me over. I guess he's lucky that I decided to let him work out what he was missing instead of picking up some randomer myself."

"Hey Lori," I smiled. "Prince Charming from Shrek?" Both of them giggled like school girls. As much as it pained me to see Philippa as hurt as she had been this morning, there was no ignoring, nor denying, the look that washed over Jimmy's face as he turned to face her, nor the smile on hers as their eyes met. "And...?" I asked expectantly.

Lori padded over to the sofa, her wet, chestnut hair was wrapped in a towel on her head, one that - utterly astonishingly for Jimmy - matched the one wrapped around her wet body. She stood behind him and reached down to take the hand he had lifted up to her. She had given a brief thought to opening her towel and giving me a good look at what was underneath, it was only fair after the eyeful I had given her the previous week, but, under the circumstances, she had thought better of it. I couldn't tell which part of that process, if any, was a result of my powers. "We are..." Jimmy started, looking up at her for the right word.

"Official, babe..." she chuckled, "We are official."

Jimmy just grinned like an idiot.

"Well, I guess congratulations are in order." I chuckled back. "Drinks tonight to celebrate?"

"Oh, yes, your eagerly anticipated and epically overdue date with Olivia..." Jimmy teased.

"Another one?" Lori snorted, "Another girl on the go. How many is that now? I can't say I blame them, if my Evie wasn't so into you, I'd have probably given you a ride myself but..."

"Babe?!?" Jimmy almost choked on his own tongue before frowning playfully. "But yeah, that's a good point, actually..." he leveled a teasing stare at me. "You came over here to give me the third degree about how I treated a girl and look at what you are doing." He finished with a laugh. "Suddenly I'm the gentleman."

"Jimmy..." I said with a laugh, "...I could argue the finer points of my love life with you, but..." I stood ".. I'm not going to." I promptly walked out of the apartment, closing the door on the chuckling laughter of the other two.

Alright, I admit it, he had a point, and I don't just mean with the more mature and altruistic benefit of hindsight looking back at that time from now. I'd known he'd had a point before I had even crossed the hallway.

The reasoning, I told myself, unconvincingly, was that none of the girls in my life had shown much of an interest in actually being in a relationship with me. Part of that was my fault. My commands into the internal editing station all those weeks ago had made them attracted to me, it had made them want to pounce on me and fuck me with wild abandon at the earliest opportunity, but even with my extremely limited experience, I knew that an actual relationship was considerably more than that. It was odd to think that despite my feelings for 'my girls', I didn't actually know a huge amount about most of them, at least nowhere near enough to start thinking about something deeper than what we had.

The strange part is that of all of them, it was actually Olivia who I knew the most about. I had spoken to her more than most of the others combined, albeit before my powers and newfound confidence, and, looking back, I could see that there was genuinely some interest in me from her. Becky was a little ways behind in that respect, no shortage of interest and the overwhelming majority of that coming from before I had awakened. For reasons I couldn't begin to fathom, she seemed to have developed genuine feelings for me, yet still didn't seem to want anything more. I'd given her a few nudges in the shower this morning to allow Philipa to join us but otherwise, I had done little more than looked into her mind. Of all of them, she was easily the one I would choose if made to and I couldn't really tell you why. There was something about her that just resonated with me, we clicked, I'm not sure how else to explain it. No, I didn't know everything about her, and although I could know everything with little more than a concentrated thought, I kind of wanted the thing between us to grow organically. Not the sex, that was already insanely hot, but the rest of it, the part that would turn a bit of fun into a relationship, I was happy to let develop on its own.

Philippa was too new to have much of a coherent opinion about. She was hot as all hell, she was dynamite in bed and had, in as many words, committed herself to me - or at least to her role within the relationship between Becky and me - but as for something more, I honestly had no idea. What had started out that morning as a cross between helping her get over Jimmy and - to be perfectly honest - getting myself a threesome, had grown into something I couldn't have even imagined a few hours earlier.

Evie was a bit more of a conundrum. I have always prided myself on being able to be completely honest when taking a long, hard look in the mirror and that was what was needed here. I had known Evie for just as long as Olivia, technically longer, but - before the other night in the pub before our tryst - she had rarely spoken to me outside of being polite. I couldn't be sure how much success I'd had in manipulating her feelings towards me when we had been downstairs in the bar, her mind had been infuriatingly hard to read, but given the now apparent difference in her interest toward me before that night and since, Id have to say 'a lot'. So the question then was, how strong can a relationship be with someone who has been made to feel something for you?

With that being said - and a little more self-scrutiny on my part - I had to admit that what attracted me to Evie was her mind, specifically, the differences between it and every other human mind I had ever seen. Every time I thought of her Avatar, sat on that log, and looking serenely into the fire, it... I don't know, it piqued something in me. A curiosity, an intrigue, a burning desire to understand. It was like that detail was extremely important, I just didn't know why yet. And if I was going to be honest with myself, I wasn't entirely ready to give up that investigation just yet.

Yes, yes... we have already established that I was an asshole.

I suppose this all has to be taken in context. To the rest of the world, it had only been a week since we had met in the bar. But I had spent almost all of that week in my bunker. It had taken me a while to work it out, but time passed in there at a rate of about forty-five minutes to every one minute outside. So that week for her had been months for me, even since seeing her on Wednesday in the lecture, that, to me, was weeks ago. I - at least in my own mind, literally - had experienced an extraordinarily long time between text messages and the odd call, let alone actually seeing her and that burning desire to talk to her that had plagued the first few days had... faded. Dont misunderstand; the same could easily and accurately be said for the others as well, even Jimmy, but I found myself wanting to spend time with the others to compensate. The simple harsh truth was that when it came to Evie... I didn't miss her. That wasn't to say I had any intention of letting her down gently, or breaking things off, she was still a puzzle that needed solving. If more than that developed between us - and let's be honest, I was still going to sleep with her, she was still hot, and I was still male - then all the better.

Charlotte was simple, whilst also being extraordinarily complicated. Our relationship was purely platonic, at least for now. Yet the depths of that friendship, the trust and the affection I held for her would make the strongest married couple green with envy. I absolutely, unquestionably loved her, with every fiber of me. I loved her in a way that, even to this day, I find impossible to articulately quantify. In terms of my perception of time - as opposed to the real life time I had spent with the others - I had spent more time with Charlotte than anyone else in my entire adult life, with the exception of Jimmy. I knew her in ways that most humans simply couldn't comprehend. Yet, I was still male, and utterly failed to understand the majority of it. I always got the impression that we would make a staggeringly good couple, but knew that it would probably never happen. So... Friends... right?

I was pacing again, I realized with a huff. I always paced when something was on my mind, it was like the physical act of moving my legs was needed to get my brain to work properly. I also paced when I was on the phone, it drove Jimmy nuts, which, incidentally, was another reason I did it, but I digress. I stopped pacing and dropped onto the sofa. Just in time for someone to knock on the apartment door.

With a loud groan, I pulled myself back to my feet, casting my mind out to see who was on the other side of the door as I approached it. This was still new to me, it would have been infinitely more efficient to do that before getting up to answer it, in case the person knocking could be safely ignored. But living above a pub did have the benefit of reducing the number of salesmen and Jahovah's witnesses who came knocking. The person on the other side of the door, however, was the absolute last person I would expect.

"Marco!" I said, not having to feign the legitimately felt surprise as I opened the door to him. "I... shouldn't be surprised that you know where I live, should I?"

"Hello, Pete," he answered with that warm and friendly smile I remembered from the night of my awakening. "And no, I keep an eye on all of my apprentices."

"An Apprentice, eh?" I questioned with an arched eyebrow, standing aside to let him in. "I'll be honest, I wasn't sure if I would see you again." It was one of those playful, friendly jibes that was absolutely and wholeheartedly sincere. Even without Charlotte telling me about his shortcomings, I would more than probably have been a little annoyed by the lack of contact after all this time.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that." He said, still holding that smile as he came in and sat himself down at the breakfast bar. I rounded it and leaned against the counter opposite him. "Something... important came up. A bit of an emergency."

His brain did a few mental acrobatics, trying to keep the 'emergency' out of reach from my probing mind. It was annoyingly effective, if a bit slow. I only got a flash of it before the memory was buried somewhere. It was an Evo, laying in a bed that looked a lot like the one I had been in when I was awakened, but also different somehow... It was like it was a hospital bed, but not in a hospital. The Evo on it was unconscious, not dead, but unlikely to ever recover. And the other two Evo's in the room with Marco as he had been looking down at the patient had absolutely no idea what had happened. Marco was extremely worried.

"Everything okay?" I asked, sort of already knowing the answer.

"Not really." he replied, matter of factly and unexpectedly "But there is nothing that can be done about it immediately. The plan was always to give you a week or two to come to terms with your new powers, explore your library a little..." I had almost forgotten that everyone's bunkers were different, and Marco's had manifested itself as a library. "...and then get back to you for the rest of your training. But, you know what they say about the best laid plans."

I nodded. "I thought you said that I didn't have anything more to learn."

"I say that to everyone." He was still smiling. "Be honest, if I had said I still had a lot to teach you, would you have settled down and started to explore your gift, or would you have wanted to know a lot more, right then?"

"Okay, Fair point." I conceded.

"You must remember, Pete, I have only ever done this with children, and the young mind needs time to process all of this. Not just in terms of having abilities, but emotionally coming to terms with them and being able to handle what is essentially a lot of power and responsibility in someone who has only just started puberty." There was a little pause. "I can see your age and maturity has helped you handle this a lot better than most, but for many, this is quite a traumatic time in their lives. It is my job, not only to awaken and teach them, but to lessen that trauma as much as possible. I can see now that we can accelerate your timeline quite considerably." He smiled and then gestured towards the main living area and the sofa. I followed him in and sat down.

"Ah shit. He's gonna realize that I have unlocked my city. It was Charlotte who taught me that, not him and she doesnt want him to know about her... how the fuck am I going to explain that? Think, dammit, think... Come on, I know you can do it, you've been doing it for years!"

"If I may make a suggestion, Sir" Jeeves chimed in.

"Yes, Jesus, what is it?"

"Lie."

In the fraction of a second that it took for Jeeves to enunciate the word "lie," my mind was filled with a barrage of information that Jeeves had somehow managed to piece together from the fact that Marco was able to hide the memory of the injured Evo from a mind significantly more powerful than his.

Jeeves, as he had explained to me before, had an innate understanding of the workings of both my bunker and my city, but there were aspects of it that, although he understood, had never occurred to either of us. This was one such moment. With my mind being far more powerful than Marco's, it was unlikely that he could get into my city and peruse my memories at will, nor could anyone else, for that matter, so I had never bothered to protect them. It had suddenly dawned on Jeeves that Marco would, as part of this training, end up being invited inside my city regardless, meaning he would have access to the memories in there, including Charlotte.

On the flip side, Marco would have known I would easily be able to get into his city, had I known how, which he in turn had no way of knowing I already did. Even if I didn't, I would almost certainly be invited in as part of the training he would offer, yet had preemptively and effectively hidden that information from me. Jeeves had concluded that there was a mechanism, either inside his library or his city, that allowed for the secure storage of information, and if his mind had one, mine would have one too. And so, I was introduced to my vault.

The Vault in my city was not, as logic would dictate, inside the monolithic banking complex. The information, no matter what it was, had nothing to do with my understanding of value, even if it was the most valuable information on earth. Instead, it was in the sub-basement of my library. I guess that made sense, since that was where all my knowledge was kept and the vault was just storing the more private variety of it.

The Vault was not a huge amount more secure than the rest of my library, the difference was that it was hidden, meaning an intruder would have to first find it, and it was reinforced, meaning that it would take a considerable amount of effort for them to break in. Far from impossible to do, but definitely impossible to do without being noticed. The idea of the Vault was not to protect the memories from attack - nothing could do that - but rather, it was designed to stop people from having a casual look at it while they were inside my city without my knowledge, as apparently unlikely as it was that they would get in in the first place.

Jeeves had taken the liberty of stuffing every single shred of memory about, or even vaguely relating to Charlotte, into the vault. As far as my library was concerned, Charlotte didn't exist.

"Okay, that is helpful" I acknowledged quickly, "But a lie he would believe?"

"Leave that to me, Sir."

*******

Well, that's it for Chapter 8... Finally!

There are no real words in the languages of mice or men to adequately explain how hard these 18 months have been. What started as an inconvenience of writing while being locked down with young children developed into close family deaths, moving house, and explaining all of it to minds too young to understand any of it. My life now would have been unrecognizable to the man I was when I started writing this series.

I know the decency of my readers would all say the same thing... "Real life must come before writing," and you would be absolutely right. But that real life is also the reason why it has been close to two years since my last chapter was published.

With that being said, the messages I have received from readers patiently and supportively waiting for this newest installment have been a constant source of reassurance. There were days when writing was the last thing on my mind, yet I did it anyway after reading messages, only to find my mind taken off the strife at home. I don't have words to thank you, not only for your support and dedication to this little story, but for your patience in waiting for it.

Anyway, the next chapter is going to be the last in what we can call the first "book" of this series. The one planned for after that is where the narrative takes off, and the world changes for our hapless hero. What will Marco have to teach him, and what will Charlotte think of his unannounced visit? How will Olivia react to a man vastly different to the one she once took so much pleasure in teasing? What new weird and wonderful things will our man and his trusty sidekick butler find out about themselves along the way?

Stay tuned to find out.

And... Thank you... You are all awesome.