The Magic Tablet: The Complete Series

by Nadia Nightside

  She used to dance under the stage name of Starla. That was done with. He liked Daniela better, and didn’t see that she had any reason to be ashamed enough to hide her identity. And, it wasn’t as though she had to protect herself from any of the men coming in to the club anymore.

  He wanted her identity and her character in the club—a haughty, queen-like figure who knew what a terrific asset she was to their production—to be inseparable.

  The other girls abandoned stage names as well. He did let them pick, though—either stage name or real name. But after they chose, he entered it in the tablet and made it permanent. Now there were girls who always thought they had been called Scarlett, or Sugar, or Destiny, or Lexxa.

  Daniela, though, was still simply Daniela—a regal, elegant name for a woman who would have been a queen anywhere she went. He showered her with gifts—expensive furs, diamond necklaces, ruby earrings. He didn’t have to give her a damn thing for her to fuck him or for her to be happy; it just made his cock hard to see her positioned on a pedestal so much higher than any of the other girls. They were all paid a tenth of what she was.

  Vivian wasn't paid at all. He told her she ought to be happy just to be the wife of a man like him, and Vivian readily agreed. She adored him so much.

  At night, after the club closed, Daniela stroked his cock while he counted the cash they took in and divided it into large stacks for himself and the other girls. She cooed and giggled, encouraging him to strip hundreds and hundreds of dollars off from the pay of other girls and put it in her pile, making it ever bigger.

  No one complained. No one. They knew the consequences for themselves would be dire if they did. Instead they prayed that some day they, too, could be Master’s favorite like Daniela was.

  A pipe dream.

  Indeed, the only exception to his power and his private life that he made was that Daniela did not know about the tablet. Only Vivian, alone among his slaves, knew what the tablet could do.

  This was for the best. Lately, his thoughts on Daniela had become very twisted indeed. He couldn’t be around her without being hard, and he couldn’t be around her and the tablet without altering her just a little.

  Making her a little more bitchy. A little more entitled. A little bit more totally in absolutely-endless-submissive-adoring-love with him and only ever him. A little bit more disdainful of the other women.

  These were small changes, but taken on a curve over time, the results were massive.

  He’d caught her yesterday threatening to murder Jasmine for spilling her toe nail polish within three feet of Daniela. Her hand on been on Jasmine’s throat—she was strong now, and had to be to withstand Jacob's constant attentions with his enormous strength—her hand on Jasmine’s throat and lifting her up off the ground. Perfect sapphire blue eyes full of fury and violence.

  Jacob was certain that if he hadn’t stepped in, Daniela might have killed her.

  That certainty had made him so excited that he’d had to fuck Daniela then and there. Halfway through the act, he remembered to tell her to let go of Jasmine’s throat.

  Jasmine, coughing and heaving, thanked Daniela for correcting her. If she hadn't done it automatically, Jacob would have ordered her to. His queen needed to be shown the proper respect.

  During Daniela’s act in the show, he’d taking to fucking Vivian stupid. His wife was pregnant and was already beginning to show. Her tits leaked heavy milk—as did Phoebe’s, Gwen’s, and a few of the other girls he’d taken as regulars besides Daniela.

  None of the guests seemed to mind that they witnessed pregnant dancers. Some of them seemed to love it. Daniela wasn't pregnant yet like the other regulars, but it was only a matter of time. He could give her a dozen children in two pregnancies and she would look as eminently flawless as she always had—before, during, and after.

  God, he was really falling for her. He watched her dance—stripping off long furs on the stage, tight elbow-length gloves on her hands and arms, diamonds glittering madly around her ears and neck.

  He stood behind his desk in the VIP lounge above the stage. Staring out of the one-way mirrored glass, fucking Vivian. Fucking her harder than he had ever fucked anyone.

  But watching Daniela. Wanting Daniela. Needing Daniela.

  And she danced only for him. Staring up at him all the while. Her love total. Her every expression, every movement designed purely to turn him on. He’d uploaded her mind with knowledge of every sort of dance in the world—she could walk on to a stage in New York for the strangest avant-garde show on earth, and she’d fit right in and shame the other dancers that had been practicing for months. (This was, of course, more knowledge than he delivered to the other dancers—though they were still supremely skilled.)

  And yet all of that skill, all of that ability, was invested purely into making his cock hard in new ways every night. Surrounded by a crowd of hundreds, she danced solely for her Master.

  He made Vivian join in on his twisted thoughts as he drilled into her, watching Daniela move for him.

  “I want you to fuck her!” his wife would cry, at his command. Obeying him made her pussy sopping wet as he pistoned into her body. “Fuck Daniela, please! Oh god. Think of her! Look at her! She’s so fucking hot! So fucking right for you, oh my god, my god, my HusbandGod, please! Please fuck her soon! Own her! Daddy, oh Daddy, my DaddyGod, please!”

  His brutal fucking of Vivian bordered on abuse, and certainly would have left bruises had he not reinforced her body for his vicious fucking. He slapped her ass, bounced her head into the one-way glass, squeezed the thick portions of her hips and tits with hands that could crush stones.

  Cumming, he would spray all over Vivian, leaving her exhausted, drooling, delirious from pleasure. His cum bathed her completely, leaving her close to drowning in the stuff, all over her face and hair and tits. She would need a good four hours of sleep before being herself again—tantamount to close to twenty-four hours for a normal person.

  Jacob knew—and was more certain every day—that this was the sort of treatment he deserved.

  * * * * *

  Celeste, attended by seven of her loveliest servants, slowly entered her court room.

  Upon her heavenly body, she wore a sheer white gown. It had a long, twenty foot train, webbed with priceless blue diamonds. Four honored slaves were allowed to carry it and be close to her. Their cunts pulsed with the constant orgasm of their Mistress’s proximity.

  Anastasia had been pleasured now for weeks. Her will was strong—very strong indeed. But she had broken last night. Celeste allowed her to continue to be given pleasure for this long, if only to enjoy the fact of her sister worshiping her new Mistress.

  All around Anastasia's cell were still images of Celeste. Projection screens floated gifs and video clips of her into every surface of the enclosed area, so that there was not a single surface Anastasia could look at, while pleasure flooded her system, that did not contain her younger sister’s perfection.

  “M-mistress...” Anastasia breathed.

  The admission of Celeste’s superiority to Anastasia sent a tingle of pleasure down her spine. It was so nice to be recognized for what she truly was.

  “That’s right, slave. I am here to allow you to serve me as you should. Is that what you desire?”

  Anastasia’s face was covered in sweat. Even so, she was lovely, a rose in dew. Celeste would have no issues allowing her to share her bed night after night. An immortal plaything might be very interesting indeed.

  “Yes, Mistress. P-please, Mistress. I want to serve you so badly. I wish only to obey. I need only to make you happy.”

  “You need tell me only one thing to make me happy, Anastasia.” Celeste bent over at the waist, posture perfect, and stroked her orgasming sister’s face. “Where is the Djinn Stone, my slave?”

  “Bloomingdale Heights University,” she said instantly. “I don’t know the name of the man. I promise you. He was average height. Bearded. Stocky. I expect that will have changed now,
but it’s impossible to say. He had a good soul, but...clouded. I hoped he would protect the Power from you. I was wrong to think this, Mistress. I am so sorry.”

  “Shush,” said Celeste. She nodded at her servants, who had heard the entire exchange. They knew their duty immediately.

  Whoever she had given the Djinn Stone to would be tracked down. The Stone would be retrieved, and its new owner would find his hold on the Stone—and his life—to be only temporary.

  “Wonderful,” said Celeste. She turned to her remaining servants. “Toss her into the hole.”

  “T-the hole? What is that? Mistress? You said...you said I would serve...”

  “Yes, slave mine. And so you shall. But you have insulted me. And pestered me. And plagued me. And know that you have annoyed me, that you have raised my ire. And only when you are released from the hole shall you be forgiven. I think perhaps ten years shall do it.”

  Anastasia began to wail. Celeste smiled, of course not allowing her sister to see that delightful sight, and turned away. It pleased her to know with certainty that Anastasia cried not because she would be stuck in the cold, dark, wet hole for years, starving and on the edge of madness.

  No, she cried because she had displeased her Mistress, whom she loved more than anything in this world.

  * * * * *

  It was the middle of the day on a Sunday morning. Most strip clubs had some downtime this part of the week—either people recovering from the heavy drinking of the weekend or paying tribute to their religious affiliation of choice. Jacob’s club was no exception, though the place was still thoroughly crowded. There simply wasn’t a line running through the parking lot like there was during the nights.

  His chosen coterie of sixteen dancers were tireless, working every day for him. They had three hours of sleep each—two more than they actually needed from day to day—with the exception, naturally, of Daniela, who’d had six, after he had fucked her several times, powering her body into the wall of his office.

  Her getting double of everything the other dancers had, everything, never stopped making his cock hard.

  Jacob himself didn't sleep much at all anymore. He didn't need it. Occasionally he would take brief naps after virulent fuck sessions, re-awaking more charged for duty than ever.

  Vivian was in his office with him, dressed in what had become her normal accouterments. A sheer silk blouse, a tiny pencil skirt (this one was peach), tall matching heels, and a diamond choker around her neck.

  He did like to spoil her a little. She was his wife, after all.

  “Katelyn and Sierra are both making about the same amount, close to seven grand a day,” said Vivian. “I think if we moved them apart, though, that they could be making more. As it is, they look so much like twins that customers have difficulty telling them apart.”

  Jacob had wanted a pair of sisters in his employ. They weren’t really sisters, not in any sort of familial sense, but over time, he’d made them forget that. Soon, he supposed, there might be a day when they woke up and didn’t know which one was Katelyn and which was Sierra.

  “Put them on different auxiliary stages,” he said. “But keep them dancing together. They’re a great opener for Daniela.”

  Speak of the succubus, and she shall appear. Daniela strutted confidently through the door. Naturally, she looked fantastic. A long, sweeping blue skirt covered her legs, a long slit revealing the entirety of one expertly toned and tanned thigh. Tall jewel-covered heels with blood-red bottoms adorned her feet.

  On her torso was just a flimsy push-up bra, sparkling with sapphires. He gave it to her just the night before. Each breath she took meant that the fabric had to struggle to keep her breasts constrained. Her delicious tits were so firmly pressed together that a heart-rending line of cleavage had developed, sure to shatter any man who saw her.

  Any man, of course, besides her alpha, Jacob.

  “I’d like to talk to you, Master,” said Daniela, bright blue eyes laser-focused on him.

  “Good morning, love,” he said. “Vivian and I are in the middle of a meeting. You can wait, if you like, on your knees...”

  The implication was obvious as he gestured beneath his desk. Maybe he’d give a little treat to Vivian, let her think he was looking at her while Daniela sucked him off. Though of course, his thoughts wouldn’t actually stray from the phenomenal blond as she worked away at his rod.

  “Good,” said Daniela, raising a sneering eyebrow at Vivian. “I’m glad she’s here. She ought to hear this.”

  Daniela’s strut was something from pure erotic fantasy. Hips swaying, one foot in front of the other, every last movement designed to make cocks hard. Her abs were impossibly beautiful, perfectly formed. Jacob knew because he had altered them himself.

  She put a hand on Vivian’s shoulder and pointed at the ground. “Bow before your God, bitch.”

  Vivian, to her credit, did not obey right away. Instead she looked shocked at the request, and at Daniela’s vehemence. Her eyes, bright and dark, looked questioningly at her husband.

  He shrugged slightly, and indicated that she should obey. As she knelt, Jacob knew that in her obedience, she would feel the soft thrill of a light orgasm coursing through her muscles.

  It was an erotic sight, seeing Daniela above his kneeling wife like that. Hot enough that Vivian was kneeling with her forehead touching the ground, her tight, bubbly ass resting on her tall tall heels. But to have Daniela above her, tossing her yard-length golden hair back with satisfaction at her victory...that was something else.

  “That’s right.” Daniela shuddered, visibly pleasured by the action of acquiescence. “You see that? That’s not the kind of wife you deserve, Master. Someone bowing and scraping simply because her betters commanded her to. Your wife shouldn’t have any betters.”

  Jacob felt something stirring deep within him, dark and desirous. “What’s this about, Daniela? Why are you here?”

  “You know why I’m here,” she said, strutting around his desk and crawling up onto his lap.

  He was much taller than her, even in her heels. He outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds, and all of that bulk was pure muscle. She was feather-light in his hands.

  “You’ve always known exactly why I was here. You chose me, and I chose you. You know what I want.”

  Lately, as he emptied himself into Daniela, she’d taken to whispering naughty, dark things to him.

  Make me your wife. Make me your property. Take my dowry of beauty. Crush Vivian’s dreams and make them mine.

  He had thought, mostly, that it was just to get him off a little more, to encourage more spurts of his white hot cum to power into her fertile pussy.

  But she had thought more, evidently. And why wouldn’t she? If it was hot enough to make him cum, it was hot enough to make a reality. Wasn’t that how all this worked? Wasn't this entire club a living reality based on his fantasies?

  “You deserve better than her as a wife, Master.” She put her hand on his, taking it up to her chest, between her preciously hot tits. He could feel her heart beat thumping. She was nervous, this beauty goddess, staring at him with loving azure eyes. “Jacob.”

  He allowed her to call him that—the only one aside from Vivian who he allowed the honor. Other girls talked constantly about who he might allow next, who was working up the ranks and who was earning his favor. In truth, he had no plans to let another call him by his name, but it was fun to make the girls compete.

  No one competed like Daniela, though.

  “You know that you do,” she continued. “That’s why you have me. That’s why you’re letting me in here now. That’s why you’re letting me say all these things. Aren’t you?”

  His cock pushed hard up at her body through his pants. Smiling, she shifted and unzipped him, taking his considerable mass into her delicate, soft hand. In seconds, precum streamed down his shaft and her hand stroked expertly up and down.

  “You could stop me at any time, after all. You’re so strong. So p
owerful. But you don’t want to, do you? You want me to be your wife, don’t you Jacob?”

  She kissed him, deeply, passionately, love exuding from her every action. He could hear Vivian’s terrified breaths from beyond the hot space of their kiss.

  It’s okay, he thought inanely. I can just...change Vivian...make her fine with this...make her want this...

  Daniela leaned back, shaking her considerable mass of hair out, soft locks dripping down her back. She raised one eyebrow, stroking him still, her face positively on fire with need.

  “Say it, won’t you? Tell me I’m the wife you deserve. Tell me you don’t want her as yours anymore. Tell me I’m better, please, Master? Please, Jacob?”

  Before he could respond—before he could jump off that edge with her—an enormous boom sounded off from downstairs.

  Screams sounded—and an alarm went off, screaming through the club walls. Daniela, in her sudden confusion, only stroked Jacob harder. Needing in her panic to feel the most secure, most steady rock of her life that there had ever been.

  “Wh-what’s happening, Master?” she asked. “What is it?”

  He set Daniela to one side and walked to the window overlooking the club. Men had arrived—those same sorts of half-naked men he had seen more than a month before when he’d been given the tablet.

  “It’s an attack,” he said, thinking brilliantly fast. “Vivian, gather the girls and take them to the vehicles out back. We’ve discussed this. Do it. Now.”

  “Yes...Husband.”

  She hesitated only for a moment, letting that word strike at him, and ran down to the dressing room. Moving fast, even in tall tall heels like what she had on, was not an issue for her. Her agility was well beyond that of most women.

  “Darling?” Daniela said, sliding her body up against Jacob’s. Her hips pushed against his, and he could feel the wet heat of her cunt. It made his cock spurt hot precum all across the window. “I’m scared, darling. What do you mean, an attack?”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” he said, hoping he meant it. It seemed to calm her though. “Come with me.”