Corruption of a Geek Goddess Pt. 6 (Patreon)

Authors Note: This was originally intended to be the second half of Part 5 (before it got too long), and as a result this chapter is dominated by one long sex scene.  It gets a little heavy, but in my opinion this is some of my hottest work to date — I hope you all agree.  The plan is to finish the series in Part 7, but we’ll see.

Anyway … it’s now a few weeks until Mark & Chelsea’s wedding and they’re continuing their cuckold adventure with Dylan.  Mark just found out that Chelsea had agreed to cut him off from her pussy until the wedding, and had hidden that fact from him, but Chelsea was able to convince him to play along.

_______________*_______________

Dylan

So Chelsea came over to my place a couple nights after our big club date with Mark, and I could tell she was a little preoccupied.  Nothing crazy, and it would be easy for most folks to miss.  But I know my girl really well by now, and she for sure had something she was scared to talk about.

“Is something wrong?” I asked her.

“No, no.  All good.”  Not very convincing, but that’s ok: she’ll get to it when she gets to it.  Or she won’t, and that’s fine too.  Her call.  I got on with our evening.

A half hour later I walked her to my bed and guided her down.  We were rolling around on the mattress, making out and groping and slowly getting each other naked.  When my shorts came off her eyes got wide the way they do and she slid down to suck on my cock without being told.  The look of bliss on her face and the sigh of relief from inside her when I hit her tongue said to me that this girl was hooked.  She fucking knows it, too.  She was still telling herself that we’d stop in a few weeks, but when the time comes … nah.

“Hot damn, Princess,” I said as she worked on me, “you look like you missed me.”

“I did, Daddy … I really did…”

“You just saw me two nights ago.”

“I know.  Doesn’t matter, I always miss you.  Always.  Middle of the day, I’ll see my bracelet and think of you and feel my kitty heat up, and I’ll want to be here.  It’s not fair.”

“Getting wet for me even when I’m not around.”  Mmm-Hmm, she nodded.  “Even when you’re with him?”  Mmm-Hmm.  “Is your pussy wet for me right now?”

“Your pussy, Daddy.  And yes.”

“Show me.”

She laid back with her head at the foot of the bed and slid her panties off, then spread her legs without a hint of shame — she was glistening as she ran her fingers along her slippery folds, getting herself ready for me.  When I got up between her legs and replaced her fingers with my own, the heat coming off her was outrageous.  Her hips were moving in little circles, her eyes were closed, and she was smiling because she knew she was about to get what she came here for.  Before I’d give it to her, though, I had to ask her the question.

“So, Peach, tell me again: are you still faithful to me?”  She tensed up a tiny bit.

“Yes, Daddy…”

“And does Mark know he’s not allowed inside you anymore?  He agrees?”

“Yes.  But, um…”

“But what?”

“I just told him yesterday.  He was a little … he’s fine.  But I told him I’d ask you for a one-time exception.  A hall pass, where you’d let me have sex with someone else.  You know, to make him feel better.  I think we should, just this once.  So … is that ok?”

You know what?  It actually was ok.  The important thing is that she asked, that she knew it was my decision — not hers, and certainly not his.  Besides, keeping Mark from freaking out was still important, so I’d give them get what they wanted.  But that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for her.  Chelsea would have to earn her hall pass, to buy it with something precious.

And the crazy thing is, that’s how she actually wants it.  Whether she knows it or not, the more I resist the more Chelsea will like me & respect me, and the harder she’ll get off.  I’m the guy in charge of her, and that idea always makes her pussy drool.  And I’m the one who cares about her enough not to give it away for free.

“I don’t know,” I told her, “that’s asking a lot.  But I want to help you guys out.  What’ll you give me in exchange for the pass?”

“I don’t, um … what do you want?”

“Hmmm…”  I pretended to think about it, but that was bullshit.  I knew exactly what I wanted from her.  “Okay, here’s what you’re gonna give me: I want to take a trip, just you & me.  Say, the weekend before the wedding.”

“Ohhh…”

“Oh stop,” I said.  “Don’t act like you don’t love the idea.  We’ll get out of town for a few days, so you don’t have to worry about rushing home to him.  We can just relax and really enjoy ourselves for once, then I send you back home the happiest and most well-fucked bride in history.  And also, you’ll be busy the last few days before the wedding — family coming over, planning, rehearsals.  We might not be able to see each other then.  So let’s go out with a bang, get it out of our systems.  I want to make it special for you, Chelsea.  Because I care about you, and I care about … I care about us.”

There was a bit of acting there — I tried to put some real emotion and sincerity into my voice at the end — but I was surprised at how little effort it took.  Damn, this girl has really gotten under my skin.  And I could look at Chelsea and see that I’d gotten under hers.  She locked eyes with me for a few seconds, then slowly began nodding her head up & down as a sweet smile spread across her face.

“Me too,” she finally said.  “I’ll talk to Mark.”

“Good girl.”

A minute later I was inside of her for a slow & tender coupling that went on forever (her legs wrapped around my waist, her nails digging into my back, her soft whimpers in my ear), and her boyfriend got to see none of it.  He wouldn’t hear from her until a half hour after we finished, when she sent him a video of her mouth making love to my cock, along with a note letting him know she’d be spending the night.

That was awesome, but our romantic getaway was the thing I really wanted.  I’ve been thinking about it for a while.  She really might be too busy to see me after that, and then she’ll have the wedding and all the emotions that’ll stir up about Mark, and the official end of our time together, and then the honeymoon where it’s just the two of them.  It could be weeks where we’re apart and she falls out of the habit, and before that happens I need to get her to a place where she wants us to keep going, and she knows it.   Where she spends her honeymoon texting with me on the side.  Where she goes to work on Mark to keep us together.  And I think if I have her all to myself for a few days straight, I can lock that down.

Chelsea

I arrived at my bachelorette party feeling pretty darn good about myself.  I’d had that big conversation with Mark and confirmed he was on board to go the distance despite his (totally valid) concerns.  I’d explained to him in my own special way that, right at this moment, I am not (ahem) a 100% sane & sober captain of the Good Ship Chelsea.  That, rather, I am blasting across the alkali flats in a jet-powered, monkey-navigated hot rod made of pure sexual insanity, and I’d like him to be my co-pilot, but would he please not hit the brakes just yet?

I think he understood.  I hope he understood.  Anyway, he said we can keep going, so that was good.

What else?  I’m not keeping secrets from him anymore.  Ok, ok: I’m not keeping as many secrets, but we’ll get there.  I got that hall pass from Dylan (Yay!), and all it cost me was agreeing to a weekend getaway that I’m already looking forward to.  I told Mark about the trip and he was cool with it; the hall pass didn’t come up, so I’m gonna pick the right moment and surprise him with it.  And while I still didn’t know whether I’d allowed myself to get knocked up like an irresponsible slut, I’d gotten REALLY good at pushing that thought into a deep, dark corner of my psyche where I don’t have to look at it.  No reason to worry until your period is late!  Nothing to see here.  Move along, move along…

Anyway, the party.  I was looking forward to it, but not for the usual reasons.  Traditionally, a bachelorette party is an exercise in calculated debauchery, one last hurrah where you can cut loose and act wild before the soul-deadening boredom of married life.  I mean, that’s idiotic, but it is how we’re taught to think about it.

But does Chelsea need an excuse to go wild?  No, ma’am!  On any given weekday Chelsea is a walking orgy — the truth is I’ve been living my bachelorette party for months now.  In fact, I expected my party to be a rare vacation from decadence, a day for me to hang out with my socially acceptable friends, and have fun that doesn’t end in kinky illicit sex with my extramarital lover.  Compared to that, whatever happened at my party would be downright wholesome.

Mark did the usual fiancé thing, telling me with a wink to have fun-but-not-too-much-fun, and that he trusted me and didn’t have to know every naughty detail.  But a couple times during the week he did get serious for a moment and remind me not to have any of our special kind of too-much-fun, since I’d be hanging out with people from our real lives, and they don’t need to find out just how deviant we really are.  Fair enough, Mark — good note.

Dylan, of course, was telling me just the opposite.  He said that I should seize the day and party like it’s the end of the world.  That he liked it when Bad Chelsea came out to play, and that the only person who liked it more was me.  Awful, awful advice.   But when he’d say that stuff, I don’t know … he had a way of making it sound appealing.

***

My kid sister Talia is the Maid of Honor, of course, so planning the bachelorette party fell to her.  As always, she did an A+ job.  For starters she wrangled a good guest list: some old friends I’ve had forever; a couple of my online streaming buddies who happen to live nearby; the fun cousins we like, but not the weird cousin who only ever talks about geocaching and anarcho-capitalism.  And Nora got herself invited … which is cool, I like Nora, but it also made me just the teensiest bit nervous about my two worlds colliding.  Whatever, it’s fine.  We set off before noon for a day-long romp.

First up was the beach.  We tanned and gossiped beside an open cooler, then Talia surprised us with a surfing lesson.  The instructor she hired was definitely cute & fit (which I’m sure was the whole point).  In fact, he sort of looked like a slightly shorter and less-buff version of Dylan, and that’s not half bad.  I would’ve been quietly swooning when he put his hands on me in the water, if not for the fact that I’d been mainlining the genuine article for months.  But Talia really seemed to enjoy his attentions — I got a kick out of watching them splash and frolic and laugh for 15 minutes, flirting outrageously.

After that we stopped by a petting zoo, because my sister knows me too well.  (Oh my god, you guys: baby cows.  My new mission in life is to adopt a baby cow.)  Then it was on to the spa to rinse off the dust & salt water and get massages.  (Oh, look: it’s another cute guy with his hands on me.  Not bad, sis.)

The last stop of the evening was a karaoke bar, where we had a private room and all the appletinis a girl could hope for.  Getting boozy, watching my friends act silly, and returning to my roots as a drama geek par excellence.  (I tore it up as Tzeitel in our high school’s production of “Fiddler on the Roof,” you don’t even know.)  All in all it was a fantastic time — Talia gifted me exactly the evening I was hoping for.  And she was looking out for me, too: in spite of giving me just the hint of a naughty thrill with the surf instructor guy and the masseur, she knew enough to help me color inside the lines, checking in with me to make sure I didn’t get too wasted, and nothing too wild happened.

But if my sister was the angel on my shoulder, my neighbor was definitely the devil on the other one.  A few times during the day she’d make approving little remarks about my kinky extra-curricular activities, winking asides that (hopefully) went over everyone else’s head.  She tried to pull a few guys into our private karaoke room for me to flirt with.  And in the latter part of the evening, when I was starting to run out of vim & vigor, she sidled up and offered to solve that problem for me.

“Hey,” she said, “getting tired?”

“Nah, I’m good.  It’s just been a long day is all.”

“I can fix that!  Here, I brought some stuff for you.”

“Stuff?  Haha, what are you … oh.”  She checked to see if anyone was watching and then produced a little baggie filled with white powder to show me.  How thoughtful.

I don’t mind telling you I was a little tempted.  I’m still not into that scene (I only ever do coke when I’m with Dylan’s friends and feeling especially naughty), but I’d been cavorting around town for 12 hours by this point and was running out of steam, and I did still want the fun to keep going.  I bit my lip and looked around, saw Talia and thought of the wholesome good time she’d painstakingly arranged for me, and I remembered Mark’s admonition against completely losing my mind and letting Evil Chelsea come out to play in front of friends & family.  It was a near thing, but I managed to shake my head.

“Ohhh … thanks, but I’d better not.  Sorry.”

“That’s ok, honey!  You just let me know when you change your mind…”

***

A couple hours later the party finally broke up — folks were yawning, falling asleep on the couch, and saying their farewells one by one.  A little before 2:00 AM we called it a night.  I gave Talia a big hug and a bigger thank-you, and everyone gathered up their things to go.  Since Nora was my next-door neighbor, she was in charge of getting me home safe; she ordered an Uber for us to share.

She was chatty-bordering-on-manic during the ride home, like our day-long adventure hadn’t affected her in the least.  I had a sneaking suspicion she’d snuck off to sample the “stuff” she brought for me, but that’s fine.  Who am I to judge?  Anyway, after the day I’d had it wasn’t too hard to match her energy — I was happy & tipsy, floating on air, and we spent the 20-minute ride giggling like schoolgirls.  At one point Nora pulled out a vape pen, took a puff right there in the back of the car, and offered it to me.  Oh, alright: I’ve never been any kind of pothead, but compared to cocaine this was definitely more my speed.  I shrugged, took a healthy toke (or two), and giggled some more.

When we got out I went to hug Nora goodnight, but she started guiding me to her door instead.

“Uh-uh,” she said, “you’re coming in for a nightcap.”

“Seriously?  It’s really late.”

“No way, just come over for a quick one and unwind a little before heading home.  You only get one bachelorette party, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to wake everyone up.”

“Nah, Harry took the kid to visit his aunt for a few days, I’ve got the house to myself.  Good thing, too; that man’s been getting on my last nerve lately.  Come on, keep me company.”

After a little more back & forth (with Nora pulling me towards her door the whole time), I agreed to come over.  I was still feeling all happy and tingly after a whole day of revelry and didn’t mind a little more socializing.  Plus I was downright buzzed, and fatigued, and in no shape to make real decisions — I guess you could say I was highly suggestible, happy just to turn my brain off and default to “ok.”  So that’s what I did.

Ever since then, I’ve been going over in my head whether I should’ve been more suspicious.  Like, on some level did I know she was up to something, but I just decided to look the other way?  Did my subconscious understand I was staring at two possible endings to my night?  And did I choose the one that led away from my fiancé’s bed and towards whatever debauchery lay behind Door #2 … because that’s what I really, truly wanted?

Hrrm.  Maybe, I can’t be sure.  But I don’t think so.  I think I just didn’t understand how different my sweet, innocent neighbor had become in such a short time.  I think — and I really, really hope — that I was taken by surprise.

***

We stumbled through Nora’s front door for our little two-woman after-party in a good mood, like teenagers about to raid the liquor cabinet while Mom & Dad are away.  She fixed a pair of large screwdrivers, then we plopped down on her living room couch and commenced to joke and gossip for five or ten minutes.  She complained some more about her husband in a way that was biting and frankly hilarious, even if it did seem to have a hard edge to it.  And my inhibitions were pretty much out the window by this point, so as long as she was grousing about her marriage I was gonna ask the awkward question.

“So-ooo … then I assume you’re still seeing Cody?”

“You could say that.”

“And how’s that going?”  My timing was impeccable, because just at that moment we heard a thump from down the hall — Nora smirked like the cat who ate the canary.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she said.

Footsteps approached and I turned to face them.  A second later, sure enough, there was Cody in the flesh.  He had on gym shorts and a tank top, looking very much at home.  It was pretty clear he’d just rolled out of bed — Nora’s bed — after a nap.

“Hey there, you’re back!  How was it, Chelsea?”

I responded cleverly: “Uh…”

Nora bailed me out: “Oh, it was awesome!  I missed you, though…”

“Nice.  I’mma go freshen up real quick, be right back.”  He made a ‘finger-guns’ gesture at Nora and then lumbered off to the bathroom.  Suddenly disoriented, I turned to face her with what I assume was a pretty stupid expression on my face.

“Oh, shit, he’s staying here?  I should … I’ll get out of your way.”  I made a move to stand up; Nora stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous!  I’ll have plenty of alone time with Cody.  Just hang out with us for a while.  Drink your drink.”

Yes: alcohol.  That felt like a good idea, because now I was nervous.  I mean, did she know about the time Cody had groped me and propositioned me?  Yes, no?  Which answer was I even hoping for?  Did Dylan know about that?  Probably not, right?  Shit.  But, okay, be cool: we’re just hanging out.  I downed a third of my vodka drink, told myself everything was fine, and tried to make conversation.

“So … a little staycation with your lover?  Is that nice?”

“Oh, yeah.  Cody totally bailed me out.  I told him I wasn’t making the trip with Harry and I’d have a few days to myself, and he just showed up at my door an hour later with a duffel bag.  It was sweet.”  Sure, Nora.  ‘Sweet.’  That’s what it was.

Cody returned a minute later and took the empty seat on the couch to my right, leaving me in the middle.  We chatted about bullshit for a while like everything was normal, but the whole time I was intensely aware of their warmth right next to me; of Cody’s eyes roaming my body, sizing me up; of Nora’s eyes watching him watch me.  As I tried to take part in the innocuous conversation, it felt like they were inching towards me all the time, closing in … even though they weren’t actually moving.  In fact, there was this strange new sensation washing over me, something inscrutable yet profound, starting at the edges of my consciousness and creeping towards the center.  Something I’d never really felt before and couldn’t identify.  I tried to put my finger on it, to understand what I was feeling and put a name to it.  I lost track of the conversation while I struggled to solve my puzzle through a haze of chemicals & hormones.

When I finally figured it out, my jaw quietly dropped:  I felt like prey.

We were just three friends on couch, having a drink and talking about movies or whatever, but my lizard brain could read the situation and was sounding an alarm.  And the scary thing is that I still felt paralyzed, like a literal deer in the headlights.  Like a field mouse who freezes when it hears an owl screech (and then gets fucking eaten).

“… you know that, right Chelsea?”  Nora’s voice brought me back to the present and I realized I had no idea what we’d been talking about.

“Yeah.  Wait, sorry.  What?”

“I was saying that we have you to thank for getting us together, how I only met Cody because you were playing around with Dylan.”  Oh, sure.  You’re welcome, Nora — I’m feeling especially proud of that today.  “And speaking of that night in Anaheim: you want to see something cool?”

“Ok, I guess.  What is it?”

She looked to Cody.  “What do you say, Big Bear?  Can we show her the thing we were watching last night?”

“Of course, Babydoll!  I think that’s an awesome idea…”

Cody turned on the TV and started monkeying with his phone.  I didn’t know what I was about to watch, but something told me it would be rated M for Mature.  Nudity, adult themes, and strong sexual content.  I gave Nora a dubious glance and she smiled, rested her hand on my shoulder.  “Relax,” she said, “you’ll get a kick out of this.  I promise.”

“Here we go,” Cody said once he got his phone screen mirrored to the television.  A second later he hit Play and the TV came to life.

It was the sound that registered in my brain first: a woman’s voice, moaning.  My eyes focused and I saw that that woman was Nora.  She was in bed, straddling her lover, posting up & down at a leisurely pace; her eyes were closed and she was running her hands across her tits, lost in her own world of lust.  The room they were in was the Anaheim Marriot, which meant the video was from THAT night … which meant I was right next door, getting the same treatment from Dylan.

On screen, I saw the recorded Nora open her eyes, look down at the camera, and gasp.

“Cody!  I said no pictures!”  She tried to sound like she was offended, but her hips never once broke stride.

“Yeah, and I’m not taking a picture: it’s video.”  She rolled her eyes at him.  “You want to stop?”

“No.”

She didn’t push back, she didn’t even hesitate — she just dropped it and went right back to happily bouncing on his big cock.  (For god’s sake, Nora: have some self-respect!  I would NEVER give in like that…)

Anyway, I turned to face the real Nora, who was watching me with a gleam in her eye.

“Um, Nora, you know … that’s great and all, but I don’t really need to see this.  I mean, isn’t it—”

“Hush now,” she cut me off with a cool smile.  “Just watch.  The cool part’s coming up in a minute.”

When I didn’t immediately go back to looking at the TV, she lifted her index finger to the side of my chin and used it to point my head in the right direction, then rested her hand on the nape of my neck.  Wow, ok.  When did she get so cocky?

And when did I become such a pushover?  I didn’t object.  I just stared straight ahead at the screen and tried to play it cool.  But playing it cool kept getting harder.  At first I was distracted by this surreal, uncomfortable situation.  What the hell is going on, Chelsea?  Do you really want to be here for this?  Are they running some kind of game?  I zoned out, looking at the TV without seeing.

But slowly, without me even realizing it, the real world began to penetrate that fog.  Instead of focusing on my worries and my disorientation, I paid attention to the video, to the sights & sounds of Nora riding her young lover’s cock, and loving it.

The contrast was fascinating.  Nora is petite — short stature, short hair, modest bust size, surprisingly taut belly, and an elfin face that looks downright impish when she’s being naughty (which is all the time lately).  Whereas her partner was (is) a bear of a man, more than a foot taller than she is.  He’s got some real thickness to him; he’s heavier than Dylan, and clearly has a powerful build, but he’s not nearly as cut; there’s the beginning of some pudginess going on.  When his metabolism changes in a few years he’ll have to watch out, but for now he’s 22 and he just looks burly.  Manly.  A smug barbarian, laying back and enjoying the attentions of the sweet little homemaker he’s conquered.

So I started to get off a little on the sight of them, the very real sex tape made by two attractive people.  And because I’m all screwed up, I was also enjoying the sheer wrongness of it all — the lunkheaded frat-boy douchebag and the once-faithful wife & mother, who knows it’s wrong, and risky, but does it anyway because it feels so good to give in, to let her hips call the shots for a while.  A total submission to pleasure, to a bad idea.

I didn’t want to get off on their sex tape, but I did.  Just watching them gradually quieted those doubts and anxieties I’d been feeling.  My eyes were wide, my jaw slack.  My chest began to heave.  I noticed that Nora was ever-so-gently stroking the back of my neck now, and then running her nails up under my hair across my scalp; it felt good, and a soft moan of appreciation escaped my lips.  Cody & Nora shifted in their seats and I realized that now they actually were sitting closer to me.  I could hear them breathing, I could almost feel them eying me, sizing me up.  The alcohol and the THC and the fatigue and the sexual energy from some of my party were greasing the rails for them, making the whole thing seem not so bad, even natural.  I felt cornered.  I felt nervous.  I felt good.  Fuck, fuck, fuck … say something before this gets out of hand, Chelsea.

“Um…”  Whatever objection or deflection I might’ve come up with was cut off by a new sound coming from the TV.  It wasn’t Nora or Cody, it wasn’t anyone in the room with them — it was coming from the other side of the wall.  It was the sound of me and Dylan.  At first it was quiet, muffled feminine moans in the background.  But it quickly exploded into something gaudy and pornographic: desperate shrieks and slaps, a bedframe creaking and knocking against the wall.  On the video, Cody & Nora slowed down and smiled at each other, giggling at the shameless slut next door.

“Oh my god,” I muttered, half in embarrassment and half in wonder.

“Yeahhh,” Nora said to me, inching closer to still, “I thought you’d like this.  We sure did.  It turns out you’re quite the screamer.  Aww, look at that, baby: she’s blushing.  Don’t feel shy, Chelsea.  You’re among friends here … and it is really hot.”

“It’s true,” Cody said into my other ear.  “We like watching all our old videos, but this one’s definitely our favorite.  Your voice is so sexy when you’re losing your mind like that.  We reeaallly like hearing it…”  His hand patted my knee in a friendly and reassuring way, then stayed there.  I tensed up, thought about saying something or moving his hand off of me.  But once again, what little concentration I had was broken by my own voice on the video.

“YES!  I’m just a slut, Daddy!  Your slut!  You showed me!  I needed this, I needed to get fu-fuuucked…”  A crystal-clear slap! rang out and it sounded like the hotel bed might actually collapse as Dylan pounded me into it savagely.  The girl on the recording clearly loved the rough the treatment; she was barely able to form words, but when she could she only begged for more.

So I watched.  The part of me that was mortified kept getting smaller and weaker.  The part of me that was rubbing my thighs together and moistening my panties was taking over for her.  On-screen, Nora was smirking wildly at my erotic destruction; I couldn’t bear to turn and face the Nora who was next to me, but I just knew she had that same fucking look on her face right then.

“You’re really sexy, Chelsea,” she said.  “I’ll bet you don’t even know, not really, but you’re so hot.  It’s sick.”  She ran her finger along the rim of my ear, causing me to shiver.

“She’s right, you know,” Cody said.  His hand atop my knee came to life, started gently squeezing and stroking my upper-thigh.

“Everyone wants you, Chelsea,” Nora continued.  “I know you don’t see it, but it’s true.  In fact, you know who really wants you?”

“…w-who?”

“Harry.  I always see my husband sneaking an extra glance when you’re not looking, finding excuses to talk to you.  Ever since you moved in, he’s had the hots for you.  And I don’t even give a shit.  You know why?"  I shook my head no.  “Because he doesn’t deserve you.  And you know it, too, so nothing could ever happen.  Shit, even he knows it.  He can jerk off to you in the shower, but he could never make it happen for real.  So I just let him have his pathetic fantasies.”

“… fuck, Nora … he’s your husband…”  Cody audibly scoffed beside me, while his hand oh-so slowly inched higher up my thigh.

“Yeah.  And I love him I guess, but why should that mean I go unfulfilled?  That I can’t have what I want, or who I want?  You helped me see that … and I’ve been thinking of how I might return the favor.”  Gulp.

“N-no, you don’t have to, um … I mean, I’m not su—”

“Finish your drink,” she said, cutting me off once again with a commanding tone.   She reached over and helped lift the glass to my lips; I started slurping it down in big sips, without even thinking.  I just … did it.  The utter lack of control I felt, the lack of will, was absolutely astounding.  She held the glass in place until it was all gone, then took it from me and placed it on the table.  That done, she slid over all the way on the couch until she was pressed up against my body, cuddling me.  Cody went ahead and did the same from the other side, penning me in.  I acted like I didn’t even notice, just keeping my eyes glued to the recording, and hearing what it sounds like when I surrender to sexual pleasure.  When I give in.

Nora was practically nuzzling me now, rubbing my back with one hand while the other rested on my left thigh.  On my right thigh, Cody’s hand was feeling me, groping me in little circles and creeping slowly northward, one millimeter at a time, like there was a chance I might not notice.  My breath audibly caught in my throat, signaling my anxiety.

“Shhh, it’s ok,” Nora cooed.  “Just close your eyes a minute.  You can relax now, Chelsea.  I’ve got you.”  I closed my eyes like she suggested and tried to calm myself down.  But now I was intensely aware of every little touch and grope, the two bodies pressed up against mine, Nora’s breath against my neck and my ear — it was all as scary as it was arousing.  When Nora’s hand reached up under the back of my shirt to start rubbing my bare skin, I gasped.

“Ah!  Nora, we shouldn’t, I … unh … I don’t want to do anything crazy tonight, ok?”

“Of course, hun, of course.  Nothing you don’t want — you can walk out whenever you’re ready.  But we can just sit here for a little longer, right?  Giving each other little touches?  That’s not bad.  Like a little massage with your friends, after a long day.  Doesn’t it feel nice?”

“Uh-huh…”  Ugh, this was such transparent bullshit, and I knew it too.  Part of me was definitely wondering how I got here, and why I wasn’t using my ‘big girl voice’ to make sure nothing happened.  That would be bad, right?  Of course it would. 

But that part of me was being smothered alive by the other part.  You see, it really did feel nice.  So nice.  And the booze, and the sex tape, and my arousal … I was lost in Nora’s world, adrift on her couch.  I thought, like, I can just enjoy this a little longer.  And it would be awkward if I made a scene, anyway.  If it gets too much I can stop at any time; she said so.  Just a little longer.  Just a tiny bit more, then I’ll politely excuse myself.  The whole thing was insane, I know, but at any given instant it was so much easier to let it keep happening.

If I was hoping to find my willpower, Nora didn’t do me any favors.  The whole time she & Cody are getting bolder with their hands all over me, she’s in my ear, whispering compliments and reassurances, love-bombing me, hypnotizing me in her living room: “You’re really so sexy, Chelsea … so free, so brave … I admire you … you’re doing really well … I’m so glad you moved in next door.  I have the best, hottest neighbor in the world … just sit here a little longer, let us take care of you on your special day … let yourself feel good, let yourself go … relax … relax…”

They let me stew like that for a few minutes, going further and further out of my mind.  When she figured I was sufficiently ensorcelled, I heard Nora say, “okay,” and a second later Cody buried his face in the crook of my neck and start kissing me there.  I gasped, and moaned.  I thought for a second I should shake my head No, but my mind wandered and I never managed to do it.  I didn’t even realize at first that Nora had taken the opportunity to unhook my bra while I was distracted.

It was happening fast now.  Cody’s roaming hand had found my crotch while his tongue worked my neck and the side of my face; it felt good, little lightning bolts shooting up my spine as my hips lifted themselves off the couch and my vodka-soaked brain slowly melted.  I squirmed and whined in their hands, a responsive plaything for them to enjoy.  This is such a bad idea … but it feels so good, they’re giving you what you need … no, that’s enough, just get up, time to go … oh, stop kidding yourself, you hopeless slut: you were never going to make them stop.

Yeah, hopeless.    My willpower had evaporated in a haze of booze & porn & submission.  I couldn’t do it myself, so in desperation I turned to look at Nora, silently, but with furrowed brow and pleading eyes: Please, Nora, bail me out.  I think I’m too much of a whore to walk out of here with a wet pussy … but you’re my friend, right?  You’ll take care of me and stop this from happening, no matter how easy I make it.  I’m sure I looked pathetic, but Nora seemed to understand the message; she flashed me a reassuring smile which calmed me down a little.

“You ok?” she asked.  “What’s the trouble, honey?”

“I’m … it feels nice, but I’m just not … Mmmm … not so sure about all this … sorry…”  Yes, that’s the strongest objection I could muster — fuck me.  Nora took it in, cocked her head, and stared at me with kind eyes.

“Aww, sweetie, that’s ok.  It’s fine if you’re not sure: I’m sure.”

In an instant her smile turned lethal and her hand took hold of the crown of my head.  This time she spun me all the way around, left shoulder to right shoulder, to face Cody directly.  And right on cue, before I even knew what had happened, he had his lips on mine, kissing me forcefully — I moaned into his mouth with all the subtlety of a porn star, and my hand shot up to hold onto the back of his head.  Fuck, it didn’t take much to put me in my place, did it?  Nora leaned in from behind and spoke directly into my ear (now an ACTUAL devil on my shoulder):

“Yessss, that’s a good girl, don’t fight it.  My man’s gonna fuck the shit out of you tonight, Chelsea … and you’re gonna love it.  Understood?”  I mumbled something indecipherable into Cody’s mouth.  Even I don’t know what I said, but it sounded an awful lot like, ‘Yes, Nora.’

She reached down to grab my top and hoisted it & my bra up and off me, interrupting the kiss; I lifted my arms to help.  (Of course I did.)  I sat there panting for a split second, my naked tits now staring Cody in the face, before Nora palmed the back of my head like a basketball and pushed me back into his face — she keeps doing that, and I keep letting her.  Look everyone: it’s Chelsea, the promiscuous puppet.

Now that I’d been posed correctly, Cody went back to making out with me, his tongue jammed practically down my throat and his beefy hand still rubbing the outside of my crotch.  And if that wasn’t distracting enough, Nora wrapped her arms around me from behind and started teasing & tweaking my nipples.  I’m a straight girl who’s never fooled around with another woman or even really been tempted, but I was too wasted, too scared, and too horny to care about that part of it — it just felt too good.  If anything, being touched by a woman only added to the crushing sense of wrongness that (ugh) always seems to leave my inner-thighs a slippery road hazard.  It’s so fucked up.

And Nora’s a piece of work, Jesus Christ.  Not content just to fuck with my body like this, she went back to fucking with my mind.  I’m drunk, stoned, half-naked, making out with a frat boy ogre I kinda loathe and getting groped by two people, so of course my Chaotic Evil neighbor leans in close and starts in with her verbal hypnosis, these wet sultry whispers right into my ear:

“There you are, Chelsea, you’re doing so well now … I’m so proud of you … you love this … you love it so much … your body wants to give itself to him, don’t you feel it? … your body needs him inside of you … just let it happen, darling … you don’t need to think about anything tonight, anything at all … just let go, and I’ll take care of you … you’re being such a good girl for us … good girl, so sexy, right where you’re supposed to be … ohhh, sweetie, your nipples are so hard! … and you’re so turned on, I can smell your pussy getting ready from here … you poor thing, you need it soooo bad, don’t you? … don’t worry, Nora’s here to help: you just keep being a good girl for me, and I’ll get you what you need … Mmm, that’s right, a nice hard cock for your wet little hole … you know it’s the only thing that will put out that fire … yeah, it’s what a slut like you needs…”

And it worked, what Nora was doing.  Because I was drunk, and horny even before we walked in the door.  Or because I’m a feeble, weak-willed and submissive slut.  I don’t know.  Whatever the reason, her words slithered their way into my head and took up residence in my frontal lobe.  She’s right, I do love this.  Yes, I want to be a good girl.  Yes, I need to be fucked now.

That bitch turned me into a brainwashed slut right there in her living room … and it felt good.  Without even getting my pants off I was on the verge of orgasm.  My whole body shook and I slumped forward, my head collapsing onto Cody’s shoulder; Nora snickered, grabbed my hair, and pulled it back towards her.

“Are you finally ready now, Chelsea?  Are you gonna be our slut tonight?”  I moaned, and tried to nod my head; Nora pulled back on my hair even harder.  “Say it,” she hissed.

“YES!  Y-yes, Nora…”

“Good girl…”  She let go of my hair and stroked my cheek so tenderly I almost cried.  For those few seconds I felt loved, taken care of, reassured.  She’d broken me down to the point where I craved her approval, needed it like a drug.

Then she turned to her boyfriend: “She’s ready for you now, Sir.”

“Attagirl, I knew you could do it,” he said.  He leaned over my shoulder and the two of them swapped spit right next my ear.  When the kiss broke, I heard him instruct Nora, simply: “Get her pants off.”  Oh god, oh god, oh my fucking god…

I found myself pushed back, lying on the couch, with Nora sitting at my feet and tugging at my last bits of clothing.  Cody was standing over me, looking down into my eyes from above; my eyes were locked onto his face, arrogant and self-satisfied, cocky.  He looked impossibly huge then, colossal, towering above me like that.  But somehow I was still able to stammer out that last shred of doubt or resistance still rattling around in my head.

“What … what about Dylan?”

“It’s ok, you won’t be the first girl we’ve shared.  He won’t care.”  No!  You’re not just another slut, Chelsea!  What you have with Dylan, it’s … it’s…

“N-no, it’s not like that, I’m not … allowed to…”

“I know.  But he gave you that hall pass, right?  So it’s cool.”

“You know about that??”

“Sure.  He was bragging about getting to decide if you even fuck your boyfriend, thought that was hot shit.  But I figured, fuck it, I can think of a better use for the pass.”

Part of me wondered why I wasn’t more horrified by all this.  By now Nora had stripped me bare-ass naked and was lightly running a finger across my clit — that might’ve had something to do with it.

“Besides,” Cody said, then crouched and cupped my cheek with his hand, “using the pass on your boyfriend, well … that’s just a waste, right?”  I was too far gone to think about this anymore.  I stared at him for a few seconds, glassy-eyed, then slowly nodded my head up & down.  Yes, Chelsea: fucking Mark would be a waste.  This is much better.  I’m not proud, and I hate that I thought that.  I just don’t want to lie about it — that’s what I thought in the moment.

Cody stood back up.  Nora went over to him and, without being asked, began to strip off his clothes; it felt like I was watching a Roman slave prepare her master for gladiatorial combat.  As soon as his shorts started to come down, my eyes left his face and locked on to his cock.  It was already almost all the way hard, and it looked … heavy.  Like the rest of him.  My mouth watered involuntarily and I felt the bitter taste of adrenaline on my tongue.  I’m sure my reaction was obvious to them — for all I know I might’ve been literally drooling.

Shit.  Even if it was all Nora’s fault, one way or another she was right: now I did need this.

“You want to taste it, don’t you?”  That was Nora, kneeling at Cody’s side, holding the base of his cock and swaying it side-to-side invitingly.  I didn’t say anything, I didn’t even nod.  I just slid off the couch and took my place by her side, on my knees in front of Cody.  For tonight at least, I was just one of his sluts … and I was looking forward to it.  That bitch really did a number on me.

She held his cock straight out, aimed at my mouth; I opened wide and gingerly dove forward.  When his bulbous cockhead slipped into my mouth, my eyes shut and I sighed in genuine relief.  That salty, manly taste, the feel of the warm head pulsing & twitching against my tongue, the satisfied moan from above — all of it told me that I truly was right where I was supposed to be; I’m a slut, and this is exactly where sluts belong.  A gentle calm washed over me: this is right, this is natural.  And as long I’m servicing this cock, I don’t have to think about anything else.  I can just enjoy getting what I need … enjoy being a slut.  I closed my lips around his shaft and sucked on it like a pacifier.

“There you go, Chelsea.  Isn’t that nice?” Nora asked.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Aren’t you glad you stopped by now?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

I took him a little deeper, swallowing about half his shaft, and started bobbing up & down, slowly at first but then much faster.  Nora removed her hand from around Cody’s cock and, gently, grabbed a fistful of my hair.  “Like this,” she said, then started guiding me to suck her lover’s cock the right way, the way he likes: slower, harder, deeper.  Yes, Nora.  She released me once she knew I had the hang of it and I spent a minute going at the pace I’d been taught.  Then I pulled back, let him slide out of my mouth, and bent down to get under him.  Without a hint of shame I started worshipping his freakishly large balls, licking, sucking, and kissing them with his fat, heavy cock resting on my forehead.  It was wet, messy, obscene, and degrading — I loved it.  But more importantly, CODY loved it. 

“Awww, shit!”  He let me cherish his scrotum for 30 seconds, then pushed me back; I looked up and our eyes locked.  “You’re gonna get fucked now, girl.”  My desperate slut kitty twitched with anticipation.  Cody grabbed my hair and walked me back over to the couch.  That is, HE walked: I crawled on all fours.  When I went to lie down, Nora interrupted us.

“No, wait!  I want to watch you fuck her on my bed…”

“Good idea,” he said.  Without warning, Cody reached down, picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder.  The fucker carried me off to the mating chamber like a caveman.  I was totally helpless.  Being lugged around like a piece of property, an object.  I was a slut for the taking, a borrowed toy — cheap.  That’s what I realized bouncing on Cody’s shoulder during the short walk to the bedroom.  I wish the thought hadn’t brought me so much pleasure.

We got there and Cody tossed me onto the bed, where I landed on my back with a shriek (one more hit of adrenaline to drive me crazy).  I wanted this now, I really did … but I instinctively cowered away from him like a frightened animal, sliding on my butt back towards the pillows, while he watched with a smile.  Nora giggled.  I turned to look at her and saw she was peeling off her dress, getting naked like the rest of us; when her firm little tits came into view my breath caught in my throat.  Nora saw me watching her and just pointed at Cody, letting me know where I was supposed to look.  So I looked: Cody was standing there and slowly stroking his cock, eying me, and smiling like his waiter had just dropped off a juicy steak.

Nora climbed onto the bed and lay down next to me, on her side.  She put her hand on my breast, squeezed, then slowly slid it down my stomach, all the way to my inner-thigh.  Her hand gave a nudge, a gentle command, and my legs spread obediently — Cody’s smile went from hungry to ravenous.

Nora spoke softly from right beside me: “Chelsea.  Hey, Chelsea, look at me.”  I did; her eyes were a little softer now.  “You’re ok?  Do you need me to help you, um … ‘relax’?”  She stuck her tongue out and waggled it obscenely up & down.  Are you ready for a woman to lick your pussy, you hetero slut?  A fresh jolt of anxiety ran through me and I gave a rapid shake of my head, on instinct.  I thought, ‘Of course not!  You’re straight!  What kind of girl does she think you are??’  I know, it’s ridiculous.  In retrospect, I might as well have let her do it — I mean, what’s the difference?  But she didn’t press the issue.

“Alright,” she smiled, “maybe next time.”  The mattress suddenly quaked and I knew it was Cody climbing aboard, closing in on my exposed, vulnerable, and very wet pussy.  My last little bit of sanity screamed inside of me, but in the real world it came out as a pathetic whimper.  Nora’s eyes swelled with something resembling sympathy, and she started stroking my hair like it was the first day of kindergarten and she was my loving mother.  (Or perhaps my wicked stepmother — one or the other.)

“It’s ok.  You want this, remember?  Look between your legs.”  I did.  Cody was there, inching closer on his knees, his big cock swaying menacingly as it prepared to penetrate its target.  My trepidation, my fear, my conscience — they were still there.  But seeing what was about to happen to me, the instrument that was primed to conquer me, my lust swelled and it swamped them all.  “Yes, Chelsea?  You want it?  Tell him you want it.  It’s alright, we already know…”

“I … I want it…”

“Now beg for it.”

“Oh, g-god … fuck me … I don’t care, please fuck me, Cody … please, I need it…”

“There we go!  Good girl…”  Nora leaned over and gave me a big kiss on the cheek, like she truly was proud of me.  Then she turned to face Cody, whose bare cock was still hovering an inch outside the sopping warmth of my inflamed kitty.  “She’s yours now, Sir.  Take her.  Fuck her until she understands, just like I do…”

“Great job, Babydoll.  You did so well.”  Nora practically vibrated in pleasure upon hearing his praise, then reached her arm around me for a big, celebratory hug.  Like, ‘We did it, Chelsea!’  Like his approval was now the most important thing in the world to her.

The preliminaries were done with.  Cody shuffled forward and rubbed his swollen cockhead up & down my leaky slit; I watched it glistening in the soft light, transfixed.  My eyes practically bugged out when he stopped and pushed himself forward, prying me open.

This immature dude-bro asshole was about to shove his fat, bare cock into my shamefully wet pussy.  My extramarital lover, who I’ve kinda-sorta almost fallen in love with and who’s good friends with the asshole, was (I assume) totally in the dark about this.  My fiancé, the man I’m marrying in just two weeks, was right next door and even more in the dark than my lover.  Our once-wholesome neighbor was lying naked beside me and stroking my hair, watching it happen, after scheming behind my back and plying me with booze & drugs to turn me into her own lover’s cheap, sleazy conquest.

I had about two seconds to really take in how absolutely wrong & disgusting this all was.  Then his big fat cockhead popped into me and I was gone again.  Fuck it, just fuck everything.  It feels good, you’re wet, you’re horny, you want this.  Worry about the rest later, it’s too late now.  This is happening.

“Ahh!”  He breached my core and I gasped; Cody & Nora each hummed in triumph.  I felt that pressure that comes from something swollen and angry stretching you out.  God help me, it felt good.  He made his way inside me at his own pace, not mine — my comfort wasn’t important.  Fortunately I was already sopping wet, and with just a few thrusts he was buried all the way and I could feel his balls pressed hard up against my ass.  Gawd.  After taking only a moment for himself to luxuriate inside of me, he started up with an aggressive thrusting motion, and I’d just have to get used to it.  For better or worse, I did.

I won’t lie: he had a nice cock.  It lacked that certain je ne sais quoi of Dylan’s — the inhuman rigidity, the supernaturally perfect fit, that little bend tickling my best spots at just the right angle — but it was long & fat.  Somehow it seemed almost arrogant, just like the guy it was attached to: pushing its way in, stretching me apart, and forcing me to enjoy the sensation.  The bed frame began to creak and wobble as he picked up steam; I closed my eyes and accepted that this was what I wanted, what I’d asked for.  And one way or another, it was what I would get.

“Yeah, do it baby, fuck her hard,” Nora said.  She was loving this.  “How does she feel?”

“It’s real good pussy, Babydoll.  She’s still tight, but she’s wet as fuck.  You were right, she’s totally down for this.”

They talked about me like a piece of meat, but they weren’t wrong: I was fucking drenched down there.  I could hear it.

Cody grabbed my legs and jerked them straight up in the air so my ankles rested on his shoulders, and held onto my thighs for leverage.  Soon — too soon — he was slamming away, pounding his hips into my raised ass over and over and over, his whole body weight crashing into me with each thrust to send violent shockwaves rippling through my ragdoll body.  Mark is a tender and skillful partner in bed, whereas Dylan’s a dominant technician, supernaturally gifted at manipulating both my body & my mind.  But Cody was just a brute: a rough, selfish lover out to use my body the way he damn well pleased in order to make himself feel good, like I was his literal fuckdoll.

I should’ve hated it, but I simply didn’t.  Oh, god, did I ever fail to hate it.  Maybe it’s because I was drunk, or horny.  Maybe I was feeling guilty for wanting this and craved the rough treatment as punishment.  Or, maybe deep down I’m just a slut who gets off on being used like one.  I don’t know.  But whatever the reason, I quickly began to lose myself, thrashing my head from side to side while this ape fucked shameful moans and squeals out of me.  Tingly bolts of electricity pulsed out from my clit, stronger and stronger, and forced their way up my spine before lodging in the back of my skull where they began building, stacking one on top of another until the sinful orgasmic bliss was leaking out of my ears, my eyes, my mouth.  I was in freefall, plummeting towards the sudden orgasm that was being ripped from my body.

Nora was still right next to me, holding me and groping me, watching it happen.  When I tensed up and started quaking in that frantic, awkward way that signals the final approach to erotic oblivion, the delight in her voice was obvious.

“Ooooh YES, look at her go!  I think she’s already gonna cum her brains out, baby.  Is that right, Chelsea?  You need to cum?”

“Ahh!  Uh-huh, uh-huh … p-please…”

“You want to thank me, don’t you?  Thank me for giving you to my man?”  I didn’t reply, just kept moaning louder on her bed.  “Do it.  Thank me, thank us both, then you can cum.  Say it.  Say it for me, or I’ll make him stop.”

I don’t think Cody was about to stop no matter what happened, but I couldn’t risk it.  The words came tumbling out: “Oh FUCK!  Thank you!  It’s so good it’s so good it’s so good, I love it, thank you for fucking me-eee….”

“Mmm, hell yeah!  There’s a good girl.”  She leaned in and licked the side of my face in one long, wet stroke, tasting the fruits of her victory.  “Yeah, fuck that slut, baby.  Make her cum.  Go on, break her on your cock.”

Cody turned it up a notch and began hitting it even harder.  My legs quivered and tried in vain to break free of his grasp, and I heard mewling whimpers spilling out of my mouth: ‘oh fuck, oh f-fuck, oh god do it oh fuck fuck fuck…’  Nora grabbed my nipple and twisted it almost cruelly and I finally boiled over.  “Ohh FUCK!  CUMMING!!!”

My whole body seized up and my vision went black; my mouth hung open in a silent scream.  My vagina clamped down viciously on Cody’s cock and only his relentless will to pound my poor kitty into submission kept it from being pushed out of me completely.  There were words running through my head on repeat, like some degenerate mantra, giving me permission and urging me forward: cum … cum … do it … let go … be a slut for him … you love this, Chelsea … you need this … all the time … keep cumming … do it…

Only at the very end of my long, crushing climax did I realize that it wasn’t my subconscious whispering to me — it was Nora, speaking right into my ear.  Trying to warp my mind, and doing a painfully good job of it.

Cody fucked me through my orgasm, but once I’d finally come down he slowed almost to a stop, just going with lazy unhurried strokes — it would’ve been nice of him to give me a chance to recover, but I’m pretty sure he just wanted a little break for himself.  Whatever, same difference.

I was panting, trying to catch my breath.  Nora was hugging me from the side and running her fingers through my hair.  I looked at her face and saw she was glowing with pride, and satisfaction, and some toxic species of affection.  (At least I think that’s what I saw — my eyes weren’t working yet and she was all blurry.)

“Feeling good?” she asked.  I had a big, dopey smile on my face.

“Uh-huh…” I nodded.  And that wasn’t just some bullshit I knew she wanted to hear.  It felt SO good, this unbelievable release of tension.  I’d been slightly horny all day, and that was before Nora put me through the erotic wringer of her sex-tape seduction/brainwashing.  No matter how much I wanted to hate it, I so loved being treated like a hopeless submissive slut, seemingly more every day.  “Feeling great…”

“Good.  Aren’t you happy that I brought you here?  Happy you gave it up?””

“Mmm-hmm.”  I was still in a blissed-out, fucked-silly dream state.

“Yeah, I can tell.  And you’re glad you used your hall pass tonight, with us?” 

“Ohh…”  That woke me up a little — I did what now?

Cody sped up a little and started actually fucking me again; Nora locked eyes with me while her hand glided down across my stomach until it reached the top of my mound.  She started pressing and rubbing me there in hard, slow circles, ratcheting up my arousal; every time, her fingers seemed to come a millimeter away from grazing my clit, distracting me, driving me insane.  I felt like the two of them were just trying to keep me chained up in their psychic sex-dungeon with all this, get me to say or do or promise whatever they wanted.  I also felt like it was working.

“Come on,” she said, “don’t be shy, we already know the answer.  You’re glad you used your hall pass to fuck my young stud and not your boring old boyfriend, aren’t you?  This is so much better, right?  Tell the truth now, sweetie, tell the truth…”

“Ohhh, god … yes.”  A jolt of pleasure coursed through my body when the word escaped my lips — a little hit of dopamine, my brain’s reward for surrendering another piece of myself to my inner-slut.

“So … will Mark get to have sex now?”

“Fuck … oh fuck, I don’t … no … no, he can’t…”

“Aww, that’s so sad!”  She let loose a high-pitched giggle, like she’d just told a funny joke.  “Poor guy, stuck at home with his dick in his hand while you enjoy the real thing, with a real man, just like this.”

“Ohhh shit, Nora … oh my god…”  The real man inside of me tonight was still enjoying my body, giving it what it needed, only now he was leaning over me in a pushup position and breathing heavy; his hot breath washed over me and I could feel beads of his sweat dripping onto my skin.  It was a raw, animal fuck that made it difficult to stop and think about whatever Nora was getting at.

“Just picture him there, Chelsea … your poor forgotten cuck next door, wondering where you are.  Does that turn you on, honey?  Making him wait?  Telling him No?”

“Oh fuck!  I don’t know, I can’t … he’s fucking me, Nora, it’s good, it feels like … yes … yes, it’s a turn on … controlling him…”

“That’s right, sweetie, that’s right.  I’m doing you a favor: now you don’t have to fuck him.  You get to spend the night with us, instead of that weak little bitch…”

“Fu-uuck!”  Her words cut me like a knife — it was surreal, disorienting, painful — but they also fueled the fucked-up intensity of the moment.  My voice creaked, my legs wrapped around Cody, my pussy clamped on his dick, I took a big step towards another orgasm … and, shamefully, for a split second, I welcomed her sadistic mockery of the man I love.  But then I looked at Nora, tried to give her a hard stare (which is impossible when you’re having the life fucked out of you), and shook my head.  “Don’t … please don’t…”

“It’s ok, I’m just playing,” she said, unconvincingly.  I don’t know what’s up with her.

Above me, Cody was huffing & puffing — he’d put a lot of work into fucking me senseless.  So when he stopped I was disappointed, but not surprised.  He rolled off and laid back on the bed with his head resting on his hands, looking like he was very pleased with himself.  And, hell, why shouldn’t he be?

I was still dazed, and still in a state of acute sexual need.  I felt so empty, I felt incomplete.  My eyes were drawn south to Cody’s groin and locked on to his manhood.  It was rigid, pointing up at an angle, ever-so-slightly twitching in time with his pulse; the shaft glistened obscenely, positively drenched in my own juices, and around the base an almost frothy white ring had built up — holy fuck I was wet.  I stared at that sight, transfixed.  When I saw a little bead of precum form at the tip and then slowly drop, it was like erotic overload in my head.  I actually moaned out loud.

“Aww, honey,” Nora cooed while running her fingernail around my nipple, “do you want him to fuck you some more?  You want to ride him and cum on his cock again?”

I was on autopilot, stuck in Chelsea Needs Dick mode, and nothing was going to stop me from getting it (as soon became obvious).  Still staring at that hard lump of flesh, I blurted out, “Yes, please” and then immediately went to crawl on top of Cody.  Nora’s hand stopped me.

“No, hold on, sweetie.  If you want more cock, I need to see you earn it.”

“… earn it?”

“You made a mess all over my man, you slut.  You’re gonna get that pretty little tongue out and clean him off first.  I want to see it.”  Nora’s face had spiteful glee written all over it; the bitch was toying with me, just for fun.  I turned to face Cody, who looked serenely smug and very amused; what an asshole.  Then I looked back down at his hard, throbbing, leaky erection, and decided I didn’t care about anything else for now.  I said nothing, just slid down towards the foot of the bed and got between Cody’s legs to debase myself like they wanted.

Honestly, it wasn’t bad.  As turned on as I was, getting up close & personal with a fat cock is kinda nice.  The salty masculinity invading my sinuses; a little dollop of precum escaping from the tip, a tiny reward; tasting the proof of my own arousal, of the hard fucking I’d just received — none of that was a turn-off.  I ran my tongue up the length of his shaft in one long lick, collecting as much of our fluids as possible, then swirled my tongue around the head and went back down for seconds.  Up & down, up & down, only getting more aroused each time.  In the middle of all this I glanced up and saw Cody and Nora making out like they’d just won World War 2.

Once I’d gone over every square centimeter of his shaft I dipped below to work on his balls — dear lord they were huge, bigger than anything I’d ever seen before.  Swollen, manly, brimming with life.  I cupped his sack in my hand and found I couldn’t even palm the whole thing; it spilled out around my fingers like a fleshy softball filled with sperm.  ‘Jesus Christ,’ I whispered.  Cody may be an asshole, but his balls didn’t do anything wrong — far from it: they were magnificent.  They were turning me on.  They deserved some love.  I leaned in and planted a kiss on them.  Then another.  Then I just spent a minute licking and sucking on them for my own pleasure.

It was intoxicating, but it was also causing an itch to grow deep inside of me, and eventually that outweighed anything else.  I had to have him inside me again, and God help anyone who tried to stop me.  I crawled up and straddled my neighbor’s scumbag lover. 

Cody & Nora stopped what they were doing to watch as I held his shaft up, aimed it at my opening, and let gravity carry me home — I sighed in overwhelming relief as I felt him filling me back up, stretching my walls with that delicious pressure that signaled to my whole reproductive system I was riding a cock worthy of taking me, worthy of filling me with cum, getting a chance to breed me.  Pure lizard-brain mating insanity, but I loved it.  When I bottomed out and his cockhead pressed snugly up against the gates to my womb, it felt so right.  I wriggled my hips in his lap, just savoring the sensation of being stuffed.

“Oh fuck that’s good,” I breathed.  Cody hummed to himself.

“You like my cock, Chelsea?” he asked.

“I do…”

“Bigger than your little boyfriend?”

“Oh yes…”

“Then ride, woman.”  He reached down and spanked the side of my ass hard, and I immediately started bouncing up & down.

“Oh fuck that’s so good,” I said again. I propped myself up with my hands on his chest and began posting on his dick like a jockey, bouncing fast and hard and creating a loud wet slapping noise every time I crashed back down onto his thighs.  I could feel my ass pressing against that huge fucking ballsack each time I bottomed out, and it gave me a little jolt, spurred me on, made me hotter.  I knew my pussy was still sopping wet, probably leaking all down his shaft and onto his balls, coating them and making a whole new mess for me to clean up.  And I was fine with that. 

I was in a state of near delirium, but I still heard it when Nora’s phone dinged on the bedside table.  I watched her pick it up, glance at the screen, and break into a giddy smile.  Then she cackled like a goddamn supervillain — Emperor Palpatine in thigh-highs.

“Hahaha!  Look who it is, Chelsea: some poor bastard asking if I know where his fiancée is.”  A shock of fear & guilt hit me in the gut, but it wasn’t enough to stop my hips form doing what they needed to do.  “You want me to tell him you’re too busy fucking a real man to come to the phone?”

“Nuh … n-no … don’t…”  I shook my head, still grinding.

“Oh!  But he’s right next door, isn’t he?  I’ll have him come over and sit in the corner — I’ve always wanted to see a cuck in his natural habitat…”

“Ohmygod, s-stop … don’t…”

“C’mon!  If you still feel guilty I’ll even give him a little handjob; that’s about all he deserves.”  Jesus.  I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even make eye contact; I just kept on shaking my head from side to side while Nora’s side-piece fucked me raw.  “No?  Seriously?  Oh alright, I’ll cover for you.  If you keep being a good girl for me, I won’t even send him this movie we’re filming…”

“Fuck!  Ok … y-yes … Nora.”

She typed out a reply of some kind then pointed the phone at me a little longer, documenting the proof of my corruption in HD.  I should’ve been worried about that, I should’ve stopped her — Good Chelsea would’ve known to do that.  Instead I started bucking on top Cody even harder, and moaning even louder — Bad Chelsea wanted to be a good girl just like she’d promised; Bad Chelsea wanted to put on a show for the camera.

Bad Chelsea seems to call the shots more and more every day.  It’s a problem.

Once Nora stopped recording I settled down a little and focused on what I was doing.  I leaned back some, sat upright to get a different angle for our fucking, slowed down to a less frantic pace.  Cody reached his hands up and began groping my tits — roughly, possessively, like he was annexing them by force.  My own hand drifted down behind me and sought out the bulging ballsack that had seized my imagination.  I gripped it in my hand, gently rubbing & squeezing, just relishing the feel of it as I bounced myself on his big cock with my eyes closed.  I liked knowing I held something so special in my hand.  Cody groaned in approval; having his balls fondled by me gave him pleasure … I liked knowing that, too.

“Hell yes, girl,” he said, “that feels real good.  You’re gonna make me pop soon…”

“Wait,” I whined, “hold on … I’m close…”

“Shit, don’t worry about that: I’ll have you cumming on my cock again real soon.”  Oh thank god.  You see, Chelsea?  He’s not such a bad guy…

Yeah, right.  I just kept riding him, holding onto his balls like I was afraid they’d disappear, stroking myself up & down so his cock raked over that special spot inside of me over and over and over again.  Panting and moaning and forgetting my whole identity, getting closer and closer.

I was dimly aware of Cody & Nora making out beneath me, muttering dirty talk at each other and saying nasty shit about me that I was too addled to understand.  But one snippet of their awful conversation did finally penetrate my mental fog:

“Ohhh, Cody baby, my Big Bear, where are you gonna cum?  You want to glaze her slutty tits, make ‘em yours?  You wanna bust in her mouth and watch her swallow it?  Or I can make out with her with your cum in her mouth, that would be … Oh!  No, you can get on top of her and blow a HUGE load all over her face, because that’s a picture I need on my phone: the cum-covered whore your darling Nora gave to you…”

“No!” I blurted out reflexively.  That was all fucking hideous, of course.  So, was I offended by the way she was talking about me?  Was I objecting to that disgusting photograph she wanted?  No and no.  I didn’t care about any of that shit just then.  The reason I spoke up was because of a shameful, tawdry, and depressingly biological urge.

“No, inside … he should cum in me, Nora … please fill me up, Cody … please, Sir, I need it…”

That’s all it was, the awful truth: I think my time with Dylan has gradually turned me into a fucking creampie junkie.  I’m addicted to being bred.  And starting from the moment I saw Cody’s abnormally swollen, potent, glorious balls up close, the only thing I truly cared about was the idea that they would soon fulfill their purpose and launch their gooey extra-special reward straight into the deepest part of my sex.  It’s what they were made for.  It’s what *I* was made for.

Cody liked my idea:  “Oh, hell yes!  She’s right, Babydoll: I’m gonna fill her the fuck up.  Sure hope you’re on the pill, Chelsea.  ‘Cause you’re gonna get all of it…”

My head started shaking back and forth as a climax barreled down on me.  It felt like I was losing my mind.  Being fucked like this always seemed to unlock purer, more primal Chelsea, and I couldn’t stop from spilling a truth that I’d barely even been able to admit to myself.

“Unh, no … no, Sir … not on the pill … but it’s fine … you can … I mean, I think maybe … I’m probably … Dylan … oh god … oh god, I fucked up so bad … already … probably … pregnant—OH GOD JUST FUCK ME!”

For a fleeting second even those two seemed stunned into silence; I couldn’t bear to look at them and see my admission register on their faces.  I just needed to keep going, to get fucked so well I forgot everything, forgot myself.  As long as I was nothing but an animal in heat, I didn’t need to deal with anything else.

It was Nora who finally broke the silence: “Oh shit, hahaha … this is too good.  You heard her, Sir: go on and breed the bitch.”

Cody didn’t say anything.  He didn’t have to.  The only thing I needed was for him to use his body to complete this depraved ritual by filling up my womb like a man is supposed to — and he may be a halfwit douchebag, but he knew exactly how to do that.

He grabbed onto my upper arms and pulled me down, hard.  I fell forward onto his chest with a shriek, at which point his big, meaty arms wrapped around my back and held me in a bear hug, locking me in place.  And now that his female was captive, immobilized, helpless … the mating could begin in earnest: Cody starting thrusting his cock up into me.  No, not ‘thrusting’ — slamming, smashing, exploding into me.  Simple primate brutality with no skill, no finesse, and certainly no affection.  Just a large, raw sex organ pulverizing my insides, over and over again at 200 beats per minute until I’d earned the gift of his seed.  It felt almost like torture, like he was punishing me for becoming the kind of woman who put herself here.

God help me, I loved it.

I don’t know how long it lasted.  It must have been quick, but time had ceased to have meaning, and in my mind it was 20 seconds but it was also an hour.  Not that Cody gave a shit, but in this position his shaft happened to be scraping against my clit, and the orgasm which was already so close detonated like a bomb inside my body and my mind.  I screamed, and I screamed, and I screamed some more, loud enough for the neighbors to hear … and Mark was a neighbor.  Cody fucked me through my climax without stopping or slowing; I was excruciatingly over-sensitive, going psychotic, but before I could cry out in agony a whole new climax rolled up on me and switched off my ability to form sound — my mouth would just gape open and silently drool until he was done with me.

Nora was lying right beside us, not six inches from my head, watching in rapt fascination while strumming her own clit.  The whole time she was murmuring to herself like a trance or some form of meditation, but saying the most heartless, despicable things, and saying them right next to my ear: “yessss … take her, Sir … fuck that spoiled cunt … wreck her, own her … own her like you own me … show her what she is … breed the bitch … oh god, please breed the bitch … give her wimp a bastard to raise … fucking knocked-up slut in a wedding dress, do it, fucking do it…”

Jesus Christ.  My brain was melting, my body was on fire, my womb was yawning open to welcome the seed of an odious troglodyte, and this woman I thought was my friend was spitting pure acid malevolence into my ear, dragging me into the erotic depths of the Negative Energy Vortex.  What is going on?? Is Nora just roleplaying really hard?  Or having a mental breakdown?  Has she always held a grudge against me?

I’m thinking about those questions now — that night, in that bed, I couldn’t think about anything.  All I could do was exist in a Zen state of pure, beastly submission as my wanton geek pussy was claimed by another jock.  All I could do was wait for the moment when he’d give me what I’d begged him for.

When that moment arrived I could see it coming.  Cody’s arms around my back tightened their grip, crushing me against his chest so that I had to work to breath.  His whole body beneath me tensed up and shook with irregular little tremors.  His hard, crashing thrusts lost their metronome precision, became slightly irregular.  And while Nora was whispering her sadistic mantra into my left ear, Cody was up against my right grunting and muttering feral curses as he began to lose control.  Everything was building to a head, and my never-ending orgasm became even more intense in response.

“Ohh!  Arrgggh-FUCK!”  It was happening: Cody lost control of his body and I knew he was at the tipping point.  His arms seized up with all his strength, squeezing me so tightly I literally couldn’t breathe — let alone move or speak.  I felt the weight of a million years of evolution pressing square against my ribcage, driving his body to lock mine in place, to ensure there would be no escape as he performed the rite of insemination.  Now a captive, I could do nothing but listen as he recited the final lines of his sinful incantation.

“UNNH!  Ah shit, ahh shit … you’re gonna take it … you’re gonna take it … Gonna … Fucking … AhhHHHFUUCK!”

Cody’s entire body went rigid in ecstasy.  His ass lifted off the bed, straining to press into me as hard as humanly possible; our groins were simply fused together at the point of our union, ensuring the very deepest penetration.  Time slowed down for me and my senses became sharper.  Cody’s immense, beautiful, dangerous balls were pressing up against my ass — I could actually feel them twitch, tighten up against his body … and then heave, lurch, and contract to send genetic material rocketing up the length of his shaft on a mission to colonize my body.

My heightened senses felt it happen: a little pop, a warm wet firecracker going off inside of me, a feeling of pressure against the walls of my womb followed by a river of viscous semen finding its way through my cervix and coursing through me to find an egg, to ravish it.  My body was immobilized, but my orgasm kicked into high gear and my insides were convulsing wildly, pulsing, sucking up his semen and helping it on its way.

A part of me knew I was unlikely to get pregnant tonight — either my period would arrive in a day or two, or Dylan had already gotten the job done — but it was possible.  I allowed myself to believe, to hope, that it really was happening.  This is it, Chelsea: you’re being bred.  Your chosen mate is right next door but you let this other male, this interloper, claim you.  He’s changing you from the inside, using your body to carry his seed, and you fucking love it.  He was strong enough to take you and that’s all that matters — now you fulfill your purpose.  I still couldn’t speak, but I signaled my approval by mindlessly mouthing the words: ‘yes … yes … yes…’

The tremors subsided as Cody completed my insemination.  His muscles relaxed and his arms loosened; I swallowed big, raspy gulps of air with tears in my eyes.  I lay sprawled atop his sweaty, heaving chest, fucked senseless, catching my breath in a blissful, fucked-out daze while Cody’s cock slowly softened inside of me.  Nora reached over and stroked my cheek with a smile that could almost be described as loving.

“All better, Chelsea?  Did you enjoy your wedding present?”

“Unhhnhh…”  I looked at her blankly; she chuckled to herself.

After a minute spent in silence, Cody not-so-gently tossed me to the side and I landed on my back with a thud.  I stared at the ceiling, leaking a gallon of cum onto the sheets, then promptly lost consciousness.  I dreamed.

***

Walking home from the market in some idyllic fantasy setting: a medieval town where elves, humans, and halflings all live together in peace.  An alarm sounds.  Peasants stream past me in panic as a raiding party of orcs descends upon us.  The men of my village are nowhere to be found, and the invaders chase down females of every race, carrying them off, or simply rending their garments and ravishing them out in the open for all to see.  I listen in terror to the screams of my neighbors.  I hear those screams gradually morph into wanton moans of surrender, from every direction, a carnal symphony all around me.  A hulking green brute appears before me, seven feet tall and clad in mud-caked armor; I look into his pitiless eyes and I know it’s my turn.  I don’t try to run … and I’m not even sure I want to.  So much easier to accept my fate.  So darkly appealing.  His enormous hands shoot out, seize the top of my bodice, and—

I woke up back in the bedroom, disoriented and aroused.  I’d been out less than an hour.  The mattress was shaking: right beside me, Nora was riding Cody, grinding on his cock at a moderate pace and moaning lustily while his hands roamed all over her body.

“Did I do good, Sir?” she asked.

“Yes, Babydoll, you did so good.  Just like you said.  I’m so proud of you…”  Nora hummed in delight.  “So what now, clever girl?”

“Mmm … now she’s our toy, Sir.  She lives next door, it’s so convenient … I’ll go over when her boyfriend isn’t around and I’ll train her, teach her to serve … ohh, and she’s gonna learn for us … she’ll learn to get pleasure by giving it, by obeying … and then we’ll have a well-behaved slut to play with, whenever we want … I know her, baby, it’ll be so easy.  Would you like that, Sir?”

“Come here,” he growled.  He pulled her down for a kiss, then spun her onto her back and began pounding into her in the missionary position; Nora’s legs flailed in the air as the two of them enjoyed a hard, passionate fuck to celebrate my impending subjugation.

No, Chelsea.  Don’t.  You do not have permission to like that idea.

They were too busy to even notice when I crawled out of bed and stumbled out to the living room on wobbly legs.  It was my escape: I just couldn’t be there anymore.  And if I stayed until they were finished, god only knows what they might do next — more to the point, god only knows what *I* might do.  I slipped out of Nora’s house with the sounds from the bedroom still ringing in my ears.

This is really fucked up, isn’t it?  I mean, even in the context of what I’ve been doing the last few months, this seems bad.  What little connection to reality I still had seemed to be gone, fucked right out of me on Nora’s bed.  I made the short walk home and froze at my front door — coward! — then sat on my stoop and tried to get a grip.

Did Dylan really not know this was going to happen?  Will he be angry with Cody?  Oh god: will he be angry with me?  Hall pass or no hall pass, this feels like a betrayal.  I know it’s also a betrayal of Mark … but I feel less guilty about that.  (Uh-oh.)

What in the world has happened to Nora?  Has she been a secret psycho this whole time?  Or is she just the Ghost of Christmas Future?  Like, is that where I’m headed if I stay on this path with Dylan: disdaining my own husband and doing shitty, reckless things because my dominant boyfriend tells me to?

And speaking of those shitty things — getting me wasted, manipulating me, betraying friendships, disrespecting my fiancé — why did Cody & Nora do it?  Because you’re just a slut for the taking, and they wanted you; they were entitled to your body by dint of the fact that you’ve become a whore, and they could make you enjoy it even if you tried to stop it.  Ugh, fine, I guess I already know why.  I just never imagined that Nora would think like that.

Even Dylan doesn’t treat me like this.  Yes, he dominates me.  Bends me to his will, sure.  But it feels like he does that because I’m precious to him, worth the effort.  But Cody & Nora … I wasn’t precious to them.  No, they treated me this way because I was worthless.  A used toy, so who cares if you play too rough and break it?  Break HER.  Besides, the toy is weak, the toy will let you.  The toy will like it.

And I did like it.  That’s what’s so fucked up: it was amazing.  I caved too easily, enjoyed it too much.  Cody pales in comparison to Dylan — as a lover and (I think) as a person — but the scene was incredible.  The danger, the helplessness; being used, manipulated, degraded; their selfishness and my submission.  I want to hate it, I really do … but sitting there on my stoop just five minutes after fleeing my tormentors, I could already feel a new hunger gnawing at my soul.  A part of me wanted to get up and walk right back the way I came, back to the foot of Nora’s bed … and kneel.  I swear to god, I thought about it for a hot second.

Jesus, what are you gonna do, Chelsea?  How can you ever tell Mark about tonight?  Oh, fuck.  Oh goddamn it … no.  How can you NOT tell him?  Maybe you just have to go in there and introduce your loving boyfriend to the free-use slut he’s actually about to marry, not the bullshit roleplay pretend-version he thinks he’s living with.  I mean, who are you even kidding at this point?  Those two damn near drugged you, and blackmailed you … and you loved it.  Your only fucking regret is that that mongoloid piece of shit back there might not have knocked you up.  Pathetic, Chelsea.  Pa-the-tic.

Ugh!  No.  Fuck that.  Would you please knock this shit off, Chelsea??  You’re not going back to them.  Not now, not ever.  And yeah, fine, maybe your willpower isn’t state-of-the-art these days.  But you just know that’s a disaster waiting to happen, so use your brain and make sure you don’t wind up in thrall to those twisted fucks.  You’re gonna GET HELP, that’s what you’re gonna do.

But, from whom?  Who do you trust to save you from those two … and from yourself?  Mark?  Dylan?  Both?  Ugh, I don’t know.  I don’t know.  You’ll figure it out.  Just go, get some sleep.  Sober up.  You’ll think of something.

Christ.  That’s enough thinking for one night.  I knew I had to get inside, but I was scared of the possibility that Mark was still awake and I’d have to talk to him before I was ready.  I procrastinated by taking out my phone to see what I missed while I was busy turning into a willing fuck-puppet for my neighbor and her affair partner.

I had some missed texts & calls from Mark, of course; I skimmed them.  A cheery goodnight-text from Talia, saying she hoped my bachelorette party was fun & memorable; if she only knew.

There was also a text from a number not in my Contacts — the preview just said, Attachment: 1 Image.  My thumb moved to open the text, then froze at the last second.  I lost my nerve.  In theory it could be anything, but in my gut I think knew what it would turn out to be.  Another bad decision coming back to bite me on the ass.  I couldn’t deal with that now.

I sighed, stood up, and opened my front door as quietly as I could.  No lights, no sound.  I tip-toed to the bathroom and took a quick (and very necessary) shower.  Then I snuck into my bedroom like a thief in the night and crawled under the covers next to my unconscious fiancé; he stirred, rolled over and wrapped his arm around me, then went right back to sleep.

Suddenly I felt … safe.  Wow, I’d almost forgotten what that was like.  God bless that man.  I let the calm wash over me, and promptly passed out.

***

I woke up late.  I could hear the sounds of my boyfriend puttering around the house; he let me sleep in, took pity on me.  I staggered out like a zombie to find him in the kitchen, listening to music and poaching some eggs.

“Chelz!  Good morning!  Have a seat; I heard you get up, your breakfast is almost ready.”  He was so obviously, genuinely happy to see me.  And after the night I’d had, it was a little disorienting: I mean, did he miss the memo?  Doesn’t he know I’m a terrible person?

He set a plate down in front of me.  Eggs, bacon, toast.   And three ibuprofen on the side.

“I’m gonna go ahead and guess that you’re a little hungover.”  Mark sat down across from me with his coffee and a smile.  “But I bet it was worth it.  Talia said something about a petting zoo, and karaoke?”

“Uh, yeah.  And the beach, and a spa.”

“Oh, awesome.  She did a good job then, didn’t she?  That sounds like a perfect party for you.  Any cool stories to tell?”

I gave him the PG-13 version of my party while I ate, basically everything before the moment Cody appeared in front of me.  Then we retreated to the living room couch where we could watch TV and I could wait for my head to stop pounding.  We wound up lying on our sides with me as the little spoon; Mark’s arm wrapped around my chest and held me tight.

And: poof!  There was that feeling of safety all over again, abruptly washing over me.  Mark was so cheerful, so kind to me, like there wasn’t anything to worry about.  Like he didn’t know how awful I am, how unworthy of his love.

I made a decision.  Maybe it was an obvious one, maybe it was a reckless one; I don’t know.  I just knew I was sick of thinking about it, sick of strategizing about how to manage Mark’s reactions to the worst parts of me.  I had no idea how he’d react, or if it would make things better or worse.  And I certainly had no faith in my ability to change my behavior, or how I felt about Dylan.  So what even is the point?  But I was doing this.

“Babe?”

“Yes Chelz?”

“There was one other thing that happened yesterday you should know about.  After the party, but before I came home.”

“Oh yeah?”  I could hear the mischievous smile on his face.  From his voice I could tell he was expecting some more-or-less-wholesome, Drunk Chelsea, ‘girls gone wild’ shenanigans.  Oh you sweet, trusting man.  “Something good?”

“Yeah.  Well, actually no.  I mean, you tell me, maybe it’s not as … shit.”  I paused, drew in a breath, and squeezed the hand he held me with, tight.  “Mark, honey … I was bad.”

_______________*_______________

Thanks for reading! If you liked the story, if you have any thoughts, please let me know by voting or commenting — whether it's a thoughtful critique or a simple "good job," comments from readers are extremely important and sincerely appreciated. I take feedback on my stories seriously, and I try to respond to questions & ideas in the comments.

I’m really, really hoping the story can be wrapped up in the next chapter.  If so, it might take a while to do it justice, but work will commence immediately.  At the conclusion of the series I’ll write a detailed ‘thank you’ to the people who’ve contributed help and/or good ideas along the way, but for now let me once again acknowledge that this series wouldn’t exist in its current form without Nora — so many ideas, large and small, have come out of our conversations.

Questions for discussion:  Do we miss the omniscient, 3rd-person POV for big sex scenes?  (We’ll see it again, I’m sure.) What’s going on with Nora?  Why is she embracing such an extreme, even cruel scheme?  Did Dylan sign off on Cody’s plan to bed Chelsea?  And, no, seriously … is Chelsea already pregnant?