Read your Contracts 04.3

Memirellin began bobbing her head, essentially the only thing she could do, the way she was bound. Her gagging became less frequent as she got into it, slurping and sucking like the whore her mother intended her to become. Beside the long tongue there was technique held back initially; her tongue wrapped him like a pocket pussy while he and her mother fucked her face, desperately milking him for everything he was worth in the hopes of obtaining a break and a release from her bindings.

Her moans came up with the stolen breaths of effort. Her slender chest heaved against knots below each breast meant only to ensure she could not forget her own body. Her hips wiggled, dragging more knots through and against her pussy lips, the rope there drawn tight; it had to feel like she was being split in half, like her every movement was helping to saw against her pussy by degrees. Only a minute later, Harry was already in danger of a second orgasm after the abortion of the first.

Fyelline's persistent thrusting plunged him into the vacuum suction of her daughter's mouth. If she understood that he was coming close, she did nothing differently. There was no way to resist; he came.

Beneath him, Memirellin squealed as his hot load splashed against the back of her throat. She tried to pull herself off his crotch, but her mother's hands shot forward and held her firmly in place until Harry had exhausted himself and emptied his balls into Memi's mouth, then longer until Memi choked around his meat, unable to breathe until her mother and her mistress permitted it.

Will she be okay?...

"Swallow it, girl." Fyelline released her daughter and Memirellin came off sputtering, Harry's cum flowed through the ring and down her chin. "Ungrateful brat," she said, then planted her foot on Memi's chest and kicked her onto her back, knelt to snip the rope that had been digging into her tender lips. And Fyelline looked up to Harry. "Boy, she has insulted you. Take her to your heart's contentment."

But that's wrong... She's a virgin... This is all wrong...

"Boy, that was an order," Fyelline said, tapping her foot expectantly.

"No... this isn't how it happened..."

Her lip curled, showing fang without an indelicate wrinkle of anger.

But Harry ignored her, knelt at Memi's side and raised her head, untied her blindfold to look into red, slit eyes with equaled fury, confusion, and sorrow. He kissed her and took out the ring gag.

"Monkey, I'll kill you," she said weakly.

This wasn't how it happened, Fyelline hadn't so much as taken him a second time before Memirellin had raped him in her own mother's bed.

The attendant watched them from the corner... When had she been able to enter the room with no-one noticing? Why was she shaking?

-

He was on the couch when he opened his eyes, and he wiped away tears. Another dream like that, and Satilli was nowhere nearby to blame for it; he'd have the apologize properly when she came home. If anything, Harry had to be impressed with the sort of libido that wasn't satisfied enough with his current lifestyle to stop it from creating fantastic dreams.

But... there was something weighing down his chest when he tried to properly wake and roll out onto the floor.

Said something was looking at him with a blank expression. Dark eyes.

"Sitte, what are you doing?"

She lay atop him, raised herself up onto her arms with disregard for the angle she gave him. Her pajama top had undone the top few buttons sometime in the night, and she rubbed her tired eyes without fixing them. Harry could feel her bare legs on his, forced himself not to jump with the realization that she must feel the effect of his dream against her belly. Her shaggy black hair was even more of a mess than it had been the night before.

In the moment, Harry was glad none of his other lovers were present, Memi most of all. He wondered if he could have convinced her in time before violence broke out that nothing had happened between him and this girl.

She yawned, head bobbing with exhaustion that befitted the heavy circles under her black eyes, and she wiped away a strand of drool that had connected her to his shirt. "I can't sleep without... someone... something... to hug..."

"O-kay... can you get off me then? I know you don't mean anything by it, but I do have a girlfriend."

Sitte closed her eyes as though she was considering the fact, but she did eventually crawl off and Harry averted his eyes to avoid getting more than a flash of white panties.

He asked, turned around as she dressed behind the couch, "Do you have a plan for today? Not that you're not welcome to stay here another night, but I don't think that would be comfortable for you either."

"I have plans..." she said, rounding back to sit with him in an oversized sweatshirt and, hopefully, shorts. He didn't quite trust anything that she'd pulled out of the dresser in her water-damaged apartment, smelled a little, but the option of giving someone access to the other girls' (and Satilli's) wardrobe had backfired on him once before (with Satilli, in fact).

"Alright, so did you want to call the landlord to get him to look at the burst pipe in your room, or should I do it?" She seemed too timid to want to deal with the level of social stress such a thing would require from her, was already shaking by the time he'd finished offering. "Never mind, I have plenty of time today after a couple errands, so I'll just plan on contacting him for you. Just call me once you're set up with your friend and I'll walk you through the rest of the process. Also, if there's mold you might have to start looking for a more long-term solution while it's being cleaned, if you even want to live there anymore."

"I-I d-do..." Sitte said, shaking on the couch beside him still more as she considered the road ahead. "T-thank you Harry, for being so nice to me... I t-think nobody else would do anything for me..."

He put his hand reassuringly on her thin back and she smiled up through her messy bangs, tired eyes gleaming with relieved tears.

"You should give people more benefit of the doubt, I think. Our landlord is perfectly reasonable, though he might be mad that you've let it get so bad... I'll calm him down before you ever see him, okay?"

Sitte nodded, quickly hugged him, and left.

-

Down into town, Harry didn't want to think that having problems to solve soothed his mind from worrying about his love life. It was a fact that having something to focus on helped the time pass faster than sitting in front of the television or his computer while trying to avoid thinking about where Satilli was or what Memi was doing with Laura, without him. The computer most of all, since he was hit in the face with a bookmark bar full of sites that had fallen to the wayside in use ever since Memi came into his life, making porn the lesser choice.

It was funny, he thought as he walked to the first shop on his list, that those sites did still see their use. Memi apparently didn't care about clearing her browsing history because Harry knew she was on those same sites essentially every time he was out for more than a half hour without her. He'd said over and over that he loved her just the way she was, but it was clear to him that she was still trying to suss out what her master liked.

His reassurance didn't stop him from coming home to her in a maid's uniform or a reversed bunny-girl outfit (Where she'd found it was a mystery in itself. Custom made?). Concerningly, she and Satilli compared notes and as such Harry's sex life had been getting exponentially more tailored to what he liked. What stopped them from becoming a neural net dedicated to his pleasure were the personal tastes they themselves held and the malleability of human preference, and Harry could only cum so many times in a day...

Satilli had to understand why he thought she was doing that to his dreams... right? She/he had her/his selfish streak; it wasn't out of the question that she might try to get one more late-night meal out of his balls while Memi was none the wiser. Harry had awoken more than a dozen times already with Memi doing something or another to him, and only a few of those times had she actively been trying to wake him for the day.

She didn't like the sound of his alarm clock, wanted to use the much more pleasant alarm-cock system...

... The dream from that morning was disturbing, like a snapshot of a world where things had been nudged only slightly enough to diverge wildly... Fyelline's original plan hadn't been to give her daughter to Harry as a familiar, it had been to give him to her as a slave and a plaything. That it had all worked out so well despite the fact was a happy accident which she permitted only because it made Memi happy... And now with Satilli, it had to seem like Harry was poaching all of her people.

He had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk and laugh, making a spectacle of himself to those on the morning slog. As if he had the kind of stamina it would require to take anyone else from Hell. Even Pippa had seemed convinced it was his intention to grow the relationship like a katamari... He was barely avoiding being squeezed dry because Laura preferred Memi to him and took some of the load...

If she thought he was giving Memi up, he thought seriously, she had another thing coming.

But... she didn't seem that type. He chose to have faith in his friends and myriad lovers, put those thoughts out of his mind as he entered the crafts store for those items required for a so-called "real" dream-catcher.

-

Chapter 09

-

"Sammy, dear, top mommy off, won't you?" Emi Burque waved a glass in Satilli's direction and Satilli brought to bear mixology skills which had never before seen use to create a cheekily-named signature beverage: the 'Pink Demon' which Emi adored for its overwhelming sweetness.

It had been only three days and already "Sammy" was promoted from pool cleaner to, on his days "off", Emi's personal masseuse/bartender/photographer, etc... About that: the woman had an easily exploited habit of gifting "tasteful nudes" to her sexual partners. How she hadn't already been blackmailed was beyond Satilli and the scope of his assignment. That he'd been added to the e-mail list was a promising step toward the holy sanctum of her bedroom, denied to all but he husband for reasons which were pointedly not elaborated.

But Satilli's information wasn't bad enough that he didn't already know. As his mistress told it, Emi's husband didn't care how she whored herself out so long as she didn't sully their marital bed. Being part of a many-sided love shape himself/herself, Satilli had some insight into the sort of emotions that were flying around. Her husband didn't want to know about it, he didn't want to think about it, and above all he didn't want to share another man's stink.

The way Emi spoke about it, he wouldn't have much of a chance for how infrequently even he used said bed.

She downed her fourth Pink Demon of the evening, lying half-naked on the living room couch with Satilli "timidly shaking" in the seat beside her. The virginal aspect was still necessary for the character, though Satilli barely had to act; he shook with the desire to get back to the man he/she loved and stop playing house with this stranger.

"Mmm~ Naughty boy, how did you learn to make drinks so well at only eighteen?"

"Don't make me say."

"Ah, that sort of lesson, was it? You don't have to worry, dear boy, just come and sit in mommy's lap; she'll make it all better." Emi reached out and drew Satilli into her lap where she placed her chin atop Satilli's fluffy hair and rocked, comfortably soused. "Mmm, do your friends make fun of this slender figure you have? Come on~ You can tell mommy~ Oh, it's wonderful, almost like you're a girl." Her groping hand proved that assessment to be, at that time, incorrect, and Satilli squirmed while the groping hand continued. "I do love timid boys like you, and do you know why that is?"

Here it was, the next step. "... No?..."

Emi's fingertips curled under the hem of Satilli's shirt and she pulled it up and over his head, discarded it forcefully and went to dragging her fingers across his smooth skin. She laughed airily when Satilli, true to his character, crossed his arms to hide his slender chest. "There it is~ No real man would do that, you cute little thing. Aren't you embarrassed to even have a dick when you could've been born such an adorable girl?" She continued laughing while Satilli reddened, not all of it an act anymore, and she tugged Satilli's arms from his chest. Fingertips rolled and twiddled his hardening nipples, and when Satilli was feeling it, moaning quietly, Emi pinched both and pulled.

"Ma'am!?"

Emi's plump lips closed on Satilli's earlobe and she licked up the whole way with a satisfied sigh. "Sammy, shouldn't you know I don't like that word? It makes me feel so old~ So, what should you say when you want my attention?"

"I-" Satilli pursed his lips and shuddered with pleasure; Emi hadn't stopped twisting his nipples between her fingers. He paused long enough for her to progress the script in his place.

"That's not right, is it Sammy? You know this, or should I try to engrave the answer into your body?"

"M-mommy..."

She kissed his cheek and let go of his nipples, holding him close to her with her tits pressed aggressively to his back. "D'aww~ couldn't you have given me the excuse at least? But you are a good boy, almost as if you've already been trained, haha."

Satilli gulped, shuddered again, and put up token resistance to her hug.

"Boy~" Emi sang. "How about I show you something special?"

"Special..."

"Special~" Emi raised to her feet and took Satilli's hand, pulling him deeply into the manor and to a walk-in closet which she locked behind them. "Shorts, off, now."

"I'm sorry ma'-"

"Hm?"

"Mommy! I'm sorry mommy, but what's happening?"

"Cutie, it's too much of a waste to put you in man clothes, they're too ugly. Shorts, now, take 'em off."

Satilli *reluctantly* pushed his short shorts down to his ankles and stepped out of them, hiding his hard cock with his hand and deeply red with embarrassment.

"That's a good boy, or, girl? Hmm, I wonder what they would have called you if you were born a girl... I suppose Samantha is still a girl's name, but I just don't love it."

"S-sadie?..." Satilli re-used a nom-de-guerre he/she'd become accustomed to while on Earth.

"Ooh, you've already thought about it? I guess I wasn't that far off the mark, was I? Who's going to be my adorable little girl?" Emi amorously stroked Satilli's cheek, stared deeply into his eyes with those of an insatiable predator. His thoughts went to how many young men this starving monster had devoured in the same way and yet it hungered evermore for novel stimulation. "Sadie~ It has such a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Which do you think is better, pink or purple?"

"P-pink," Satilli purposefully stuttered in the character of one who hadn't had this and worse done to him at various points by a woman who had far more experience in the fields of eroticism and humiliation. He acted like he was surprised when he was presented with a lacy, pink set of women's underwear in his size.

Emi watched him, nearly unblinking as he timidly stepped into the panties and pulled them up his legs. They fit snugly over his butt, but there wasn't nearly enough room in the front for both his dick and balls; his stiffy poked out from the top of the waistband and his balls bulged the lace below. Over on the other side of the room, Emi huffed and puffed, held one arm to her side with the other as though she had to prevent herself from touching him until the ensemble was complete or else it never would be; Fyelline would never have that problem controlling herself for knowledge of the gratification that awaited her.

The dressing continued while Emi held back from drooling all over herself with uncontrollable arousal. She added white stockings with a garter belt, a slip, and long, white gloves before again she had to stop and burn the sight into her mind for future use. Satilli's nipples, hard for multiple reasons, dragged against the silky material of the slip and he wished he could show his boyfriend how this all looked on him, but as a girl of course; he wanted to see Harry beside himself with his kind of gentle arousal, resisting the urge to carry Satilli off the the bedroom or perhaps just throw him down to the floor and rip his clothes off then and there~ Imagining the feeling of his boyfriend's reaction, Satilli squirmed and his cheeks continued to burn along with the rest of his skin, wishing for Harry's touch.

The final steps required some measurements. Emi struggled to keep her hands to herself while drawing the tape across Satilli's slender body; she took some liberties, cupping Satilli's pert butt more than once, sliding her hand across his belly over the silky slip with a rustle that could only be heard in the hush of the room. He pretended he wasn't used to it, giving up convincing yelps and sharp breaths when Emi caressed a sensitive spot, whether or not the touch was accidental.

At last, Emi took a frilly, pink number from the rack and laced Satilli into it, then had him step into mary janes in the same shade of pastel pink. She drew back to marvel at her work, a luscious expression rested on a hand which shivered with the desire to once again rip it all off.

"Ah~" she sighed, lips pursed. "It's almost too bad you have such lovely skin; I wanted to put some makeup on you, but I suppose only some will have to do. Well, how does it feel?"

Satilli at last turned to the room's full-length mirror and stood in awe of the woman's taste. He might have added platform heels, but he knew right away that his being short added to the victorian doll cuteness that she'd been able to express using him as a canvas. The pink lace, laced up tight, hugged just the right curves to accentuate his feminine qualities while downplaying how obviously flat his chest was as a male. The puff of the skirt gave him a bouciness that he'd tried before to emulate with modern styles without true success. And, importantly, his manhood was hidden behind so many flowing layers that he was teased by the very movement of the air beneath them and the way the panties hugged his balls while the head of his cock, leaking already, wetted the silky slip rubbing back and forth across his skin.

He turned in the mirror, lifting his skirt. He banished the blush on his cheeks for purposeful awestruck fascination to take its place. "Do I... really look that cute?" he asked, as though the answer weren't looking him right in the face. An evil thought crossed his mind; it wasn't the plan that Mistress had proscribed, but the woman was all for improvisation if it worked out in her favor. "Do you think... a guy would think I was cute?" Satilli said with feigned hesitance.

The change in Emi's demeanor was subtle but immediate. She approached from behind and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, a couple fingers trailed down his collarbone to rub his flat chest over the girlish dress. "Any man would be drooling over you right now. I'm sure, even if some of them knew what lay beneath this skirt, they wouldn't be able to stop themselves from getting it up. Not with that face, there's no way. That girl the other day, didn't you say she was you girlfriend? Or~ do you play on both teams? Does she know how unstable her position is in your heart? Or is it not your heart that's the issue?"

"What do you mean, ma'am?" he said, cast his eyes down when she swatted his bottom. "I mean, mommy..."

"I mean, do you love men, or do you love men? A petite thing like you, I bet you get the flutters thinking about getting manhandled by someone big and strong, but you might also love the idea of waiting for your husband coming home and meeting him at the door in nothing but an apron, taking him by the hand, leading him to the bedroom."