The Unprotected Trance Series

by Nadia Nightside

  I wanted to come clean—to let her know that yes, I had made her want me completely. I had been responsible for her calling me her big brother, even though that was what I did to try and rectify the situation. But even as I did, what would happen to her mind? It was such a fragile thing, as I well knew. So receptive to my commands. Would she be able to take new orders if she knew where they came from?

  “You...did all this? To me? Do I want...” she was breathing hard, face manic. She was smiling and biting her lips and widening her eyes and grabbing at her tits and the rest of her body. “Oh god, Master, Big Bro...Victor...”

  Body shaking, face continuing to contort with every manner of strange horrible thought. I knew that some vicious battle was going on in her head. I had to stop it; I had to make her feel good again. I felt such possession of her. Over the past week, I had practically owned every feeling Mallory had. Now that she had negative feelings—sadness, dismay, confusion—all I wanted was to protect her from them.

  “Shh,” I said slowly, taking her against me once again. My cock was wet with precum, still, and it slid across her cheek slow. The sensation made her shudder and then calm. “Trust me, okay? You can trust me, love.”

  “I...yes, Sir.”

  She gulped. Her breathing started to slow. For nearly two minutes, she clung to my body, just breathing and thinking.

  “I know you think I’m a bastard right now. Evil. I don’t know what to tell you. I only found out about this when you sucked me off for the first time. And since then...” I shrugged. “It went straight to my head. I had never fucked anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as you.”

  She flushed furiously, simpering and smiling.

  I know that inside, she was beaming bright. My Big Bro Master thinks I’m gorgeous!

  “And it all just...got out of control. I can’t...justify it, Mallory. You’re all so fucking beautiful. You. Dawn. Lori. I couldn’t...I couldn’t help myself.”

  She sighed against my leg. Lightly licking at the precum that had been spread around. “You are a bastard. And you are evil. But I’m fucking in love with you and I can’t bring myself to care. Much.”

  “Wow.”

  “Right? It doesn’t...it doesn’t even matter that you made me feel this way. And maybe you even made it not matter, what do I know? All I know is that it feels fucking fantastic to obey you and I can’t...I can’t fight it. I don’t...” she breathed hard. “I don't think I even want to. God, I don't know. That seems wrong. I'll want to talk more about this, I think.”

  This sudden emotional outpouring exhausted me even more than fucking Dawn all night had. I could hear her in the kitchen, now, calling out for me.

  “Master?” She giggled softly. “May I please you, please?”

  “She's awake,” said Mallory. “Out of...your trance.”

  “Yes. I need you to take care of her.”

  “What? Come on, Master. What if—”

  “The shop is closed today. It's Sunday. So take care of her until tomorrow. Take her back to your place. Sleep with her, whatever. Just keep her calm and under control. This can't go any further anymore.”

  Now that the truth was out there for Mallory to know it, I couldn’t take advantage anymore. Just by saying a thing, you let yourself look at it. The words enter the draft of the world, and sometimes you can’t do anything to revise them to your liking.

  “Just, take care of Dawn. Keep her calm and happy. Tell her I’m happy with her. Tell her you operate with my full authority. She’ll like that. We’ll talk more later, okay? I’m exhausted.”

  Obediently, Mallory nodded. But we were far from done with this.

  * * * * *

  Almost, I had fallen down in the bed to go to sleep—and then came booming knocks, thundering at the door. I expected the worst. Celise, backed up by a cadre of SWAT team members with automatic rifles. At that particular point, I felt like I deserved their bullets. When absolute power corrupts absolutely, it also corrupts your ability to rationalize if you've got a moral bone in your body. At that point, I still had one or two.

  Instead, though, surprisingly, it was Wallace Sheffield. He was as large as ever, a small umbrella under one hand like a cane. His suit was tailored and blue, and a small gold chain stretched outward from one suit pocket.

  “You live in a wretched little place. Did you actually convince my daughter to join you here?”

  I suppose we were past the point of “hello”s at that point. Fair enough.

  “Usually, we met at her place.”

  Not, I thought bitterly, that anything ever happened there. I had been inside Audrey's luxury condo only once—and even then, for less than two minutes while she finished getting ready. The entirety of our dating life really took place in parks, museums, and at the bookstore. It seemed fun enough at the time, but looking back I could see how empty and lacking in intimacy it was. Especially with what I had now. But when you've never been with a girl before, just hanging out around a true beauty like Audrey seems like a religious experience.

  “Do you know,” said Sheffield, pointing to the window down the hall, “there was a boy down that street taken up and thrown into the jail not long ago.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Oh yes. He tried to steal my cell phone.” He held out the phone, a display prop. “Newest model in its class. Ithingzit whatever. 7G, something like that. I can’t be bothered to keep up. Cost me nothing, of course. Would have cost me nothing to lose it. But it’s the principle, you understand? I let the boy take it. And then I called the cops. Later that night, they found him. Arrested him. Promising boy, apparently. Bright future. A football player for the West Side Chargers. You know them?”

  “It’s a high school team.”

  “That’s right. He had been talking with scouts. This is what the police told me. He had been talking with scouts when they found him. Lots of noise about him on the internet. College hopeful. University hopeful. A future professional player, worth millions. A bright boy. A promising boy. Fell in with the wrong crowd, and stole the phone to impress them. Isn’t that silly? All for pride.”

  “Why are you telling me this? Why are you here?”

  He didn't mind my questions. “I had them throw the book at the boy, of course. Teach him a lesson. Principle, as I said. It’s very important, principle. Or principles. I suppose a man can’t have too many, unless they begin to converge on one other. Conflate. You can’t have principles that transpose. They must stand independent, like buildings in a city. Clear paths to each. No broken stairwells of logic inside. You understand?”

  “No.”

  He looked at me and frowned. Disappointed. His analogy, whatever it was, was quite clear to him. He leaned forward on his umbrella.

  “I spoke with my daughter recently.”

  “Okay.” Suddenly, I very much didn’t like where this was going.

  “She said she spoke with you.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I thought you and I had come to an understanding about such matters. You and her talking.”

  “She came to me, man. Don’t get pissy because I was just there. She came to my work.”

  “And yet you carried on with a conversation with her. One that she left away from feeling rather threatened, as I understand it. Does that bother you—my understanding?”

  I shifted. “No.”

  “It should. My understanding puts people in jail. People like you. Bright boys. Promising boys. I tossed a child into jail because he stole a replaceable phone from me, Victor. What do you think I’m going to do with you now that you’ve threatened my daughter?”

  Well. Shit.

  I tried my best not to gulp. Instead, I smiled.

  “Look. If she felt threatened, I apologize. That’s not what I intended. I’d be happy to apologize—”

  “Yes. Apologize. And quickly. Thoroughly. That will be the one thing that might save you from a jail cell. Or failing that, enough litigation to drown you in debt for
the rest of your life. Do it well enough that she tells me about it. That place you work,” he referred clearly to the bookstore, disdain evident, “is done for. No more money. Not from me. And all the power I wield will thrown at it. Inspectors will find faults, day after day, do you understand? I know all of them. That is the beginning of your punishment. I make the calls on the morrow. Fair warning.”

  * * * * *

  After Sheffield left, I collapsed into bed. Dreams, or nightmares really, of all the cum-stained faces I had left in my wake flooded every image my brain supplied.

  Even so, I slept. I overslept. I was exhausted from the night’s activities and all the bustle from the Festival in the days prior. I was exhausted from fucking for hours at a time, from filling up Dawn’s body and mind with everything I had ever wanted to give her, from spilling out the truth about the entire dirty situation to Mallory. I was exhausted from the fear of what I had done to the book store that I tried so desperately to save, and I was exhausted from trying to brainstorm some new solution to fix everything once again.

  I. Was. Tired.

  I slept until late into Sunday evening and found my phone blown up with texts.

  A sampling from Lori:

  8:20 AM - I need you. I love you. Can't stop fingering myself thinking about you.

  9:34 AM - When do we fuck? I need your cock in my cunt.

  11:40 AM - Please come fill me up?

  12:00 PM - Master. I should have been calling you Master. That's what Mallory calls you. And Big Bro.

  1:30 PM – I promise I'm not doing any drugs, Master. I promise, Master. I'm not an addict anymore. I'm not. You saved me, Master.

  2:20 PM - Please come fuck me, Big Bro?

  3:39 PM - Am I in trouble, Master? Did I make you mad? I'm so sorry, Master.

  5:08 PM - I just need your cock so fucking bad, Sir. I love you, Master.

  8:15 PM – Please tell me I'm good, Master?

  And so on. A lot more than that—all more frequent and urgent. And then from Mallory:

  10:42 AM – I told Dawn Master told me to keep her happy and calm, like you said. She asked if she could lick my pussy. That would make her happy and calmest.

  11:36 AM – Holy fuck. Mid-thirties lesbian with decades of pussy licking experience.Ughhh.

  1:04 PM – I am so fucking pissed at you.

  1:06 PM – God I fucking love you.

  2:24 PM – I take it back. I think I love Dawn's tongue more than I love you.

  2:24 PM – Kidding. But you know that. You know I can't love anyone more than you. You made it that way. Fuck why is that so hott???? I need Dawn's tongue again.

  4:18 PM – I know you're exhausted, but I want you to snuggle me and tell me everything will be okay.

  7:22 PM – We need to talk so bad. Seriously.

  9:30 PM – Dawn loves loves loves licking my pussy. Fifth time today.

  Who knew that having a mind-controlled harem would require so much upkeep? As entertaining as it was to have a cadre of women unable to resist your desires, I still very much needed them to be able to take care of themselves as well.

  In the darkness of my apartment, my schedule was all screwed up. I was refreshed now, to an extent, but I had to be at work in the morning. Not that I really had to work now—with me basically owning the place, according to the actual owner, and with the store's shutdown imminent as well. But work was where I would start taking steps to resolve everyone's issues.

  I knew that if I wanted, I could have Lori over in a heartbeat and solve all her problems with a heavy dose of fucking and cum. But I knew also that the chances that I would control myself—that I would stop from fucking her head even more completely—were rather remote.

  I texted Lori back immediately, telling her everything was fine. She was a perfect slave—she was lovely and beautiful and wonderful. She pleased me greatly. I apologized for being silent, and told her we would fuck, for certain, tomorrow.

  A fountain of emojis later, she seemed rather pleased with the news.

  I didn't know what exactly to say to Mallory. There was nothing else to say. So I stayed silent and wandered off back to bed, struggling not to call both of them and fuck them until they were competing to see who could get the most pregnant.

  To occupy my mind, I watched the TV—but it was all romantic comedies and sitcoms on. Lesser men than I complaining and whining about the women who didn't want them. I knew I could fuck and own every last woman I saw on the screen, and have them give up their fortunes for another round with my cock. So, that was too much. I pulled out a book instead, and barely read two pages before thankfully, finally, falling to sleep again. This time, I dreamt of nothing.

  * * * * *

  When I woke Monday morning, the apartment was empty. It was easy to believe, for a few moments, that none of it had happened. That it was all some dream. I hadn’t completely ripped apart Dawn’s life. I hadn’t enslaved Mallory or Lori. I was just Victor, again, normal guy, trying to make his way in the world.

  I felt equal parts nostalgia and disgust for that life. I don’t know how it all changed or if I could ever get it back; I don’t know why I would ever want it again, even though part of me did.

  The illusion broke entirely when I saw my breakfast waiting for me at the small table.

  Master,

  I told Dawn you would want her at the store. I assume that’s true. I dressed her in something acceptable, don’t worry.

  We need to talk.

  Your

  Mallory

  Equal parts ominous and encouraging, that. She was still calling me “Master,” and still referring to herself as “mine.” But perhaps she wasn’t able to do anything else anymore. The “We Need To Talk” was definitely foreboding. That’s something nobody in any relationship wants to hear.

  I ate breakfast and biked to the store, no idea how I was going to handle the menagerie of problems I had accumulated. Containing the bimbo fuckdoll that Dawn had become; dealing with whatever Mallory might be thinking about the evil mastermind she couldn't help but love; fucking Lori until she was calm again; sidestepping the wreckage that Celise no doubt wanted to bring into my life; and managing, somehow, the atomic bomb of shit that Sheffield wanted to drop.

  And, Audrey. Fuck. Can't forget about her...no matter how hard I try, or how many other girls I fuck. I knew that somehow this all centered around her. Getting over her, maybe, or moving past her. Trying to forget that somehow I had let her unearthly beauty just slip through my grasp. Just thinking about her for even an instant made my cock jump.

  At the store, my girls were already happily bustling away. Without the Festival still going on, the girls had no real need to keep dressing as hot as possible—but I hadn’t given them an order to stop. So, they dressed as hot as possible.

  Mallory had dolled herself up in a tiny, pleated skirt (she knew what she did to me when she wore skirts) and a tight black tanktop that wasn’t anywhere nearly substantial enough to hold in her incredible rack. The globes of her ass were visible every time she bent forward more than ten degrees. The sides of her breasts spilled out from the top, making everything about her look eminently and immediately squeezable and—much more pressing—fuckable. Her boots, tall and dark, wrapped like tight shadows around her knees.

  When I walked in to the store, she was just past the counter, arranging all the magazines. She had bent over at the hips to alphabetize the bottom row.

  “Good lord,” I said slowly, admiring her red lace panties.

  She shuddered at the appreciation evident in my voice and slowly stood up, smiling as she saw me.

  “Good morning, Master.”

  “Public, babe. Don’t—”

  “It's just Lori and Dawn here, Sir. They certainly won’t mind knowing you’re my Master...considering you're their Master too.”

  Lori snuck up behind me, wrapping her arms around my body. She wore, I noticed only slowly, the exact outfit that Mallory had on.

  “She's right, Sir. We
don't mind at all.” She slid up on my body, kissing my ear. “Will you fuck me soon, Master? Big...B-big Bro?” I could tell she still had trouble with that. But, she wanted to comply, even without being tranced to call me that special name. “I've missed your cock...”

  I pushed Lori away slightly. “Yes. But, later. Okay? Master and Mallory need to talk.”

  “You know best, Master.” She nodded obediently, those big green eyes fervent with her worship. “Do you like what we're wearing?”

  Her tiny, hot little body twirled around. Mallory came and stood next to her, letting me look them both over.

  “Mallory thought it would be best if her lil' sis dressed like her today. What do you think, Master?”

  It was just one more intensely hot sight on top of the deep, submissive love that shone so clearly in their eyes.

  “Is Master here?”

  Dawn's voice was almost a squeal, the sort of anticipation and awe that women usually reserved for rockstars. Instead, it was for me.

  She wore a tiny white minidress, slits up and down the sides showing off her skin. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Sparkly little rhinestones adorned her yellow heels. Everything about her, from her long blonde hair to her gorgeous face to her huge tits, was made for showing off. She greeted me with a long, hot sizzling kiss.

  “I'm so happy to see you, Master. Can I suck you off right away?” She turned to the other girls. “Would you two like to watch?”

  Lori nodded, eyes wide. I think she started to pant. Mallory, though, tugged at my arm. It took me a moment to look away from Dawn's body in that dress.

  “I'd like to talk to you? Please?”

  I nodded. “Sure. In the back?”

  “Ohhh,” said Lori. “Is this about the—”

  “Hush, sis.”

  Lori clammed up immediately.

  Dawn clasped her hands together. She wore lace gloves with little frills. “Is there anything I can do, Sir?” she breathed.

  Her tits nearly popped out of her tiny outfit. God, but I wanted to fuck her again already. Her tinified little mind so perfectly suited now for obeying my will, and my will alone...

  Nope. Not the time. “Just...keep helping out customers. Tell Lori I want her at the counter. All right?”