The Lies of Chastity

After Faith had left, I was alone in Chastity's room for quite some time. Her windows had been drawn, but even if I couldn't see out of them, I could get a sense of the time of day due to the shades' semi-translucent nature. Faith had seen me at what I was guessing mid or late morning. I didn't hear anyone else come into the apartment until the sun began to set.

When I heard the door open, I could tell it wasn't Faith. I'd been getting flashes from her mind all day. What I was getting from her suggested she was searching for a job, because I'd get images of sites like LinkedIn, Glass Door or Indeed, as well as extreme frustration. I could almost sympathize with her.

At first, I thought Chastity had come back. I'd heard the door open and then someone was bustling around the bathroom near the entrance and the kitchen. That made sense. Then I realized that the person hadn't used the toilet when they were in the bathroom and instead had opened up the various cabinets. Then I realized that they were only opening cabinets in the kitchen. Finally, I realized that their tread was a lot heavier than Chastity's.

Ok, I decided, Chastity's being robbed. That sucks, but maybe it'd be better if I get removed from here so I don't corrupt her. That thought, while not nice per say, wasn't a bad fate for me.

Then the guy came in. He didn't look like a burglar. I mean, he was pasty white, fat, balding, and what was left of his badly dyed black hair was in a long, greasy pony tail and awful goatee. He wore mirrored aviators, black trench coat, and a black suit that was as expensive as it was tacky. Still, I was assuming that was how he got away with it.

Then he smiled at me. "Yeah, I know, I'm late," he said in a Boston accent. "Who cares? I've got an hour." By how he was speaking, I could tell he thought I was inanimate. He then began to search the room. "That weird bitch," he muttered as he began checking the closet, half to himself, half still pretending he was having a conversation with me. "I don't care how rich you are, there's something fucked up about hiring a guy to make sure your daughter doesn't have sex toys."

Well, that's a new level of unpleasantness, I thought, even from Christina. This guy, unless he was lying to a stuffed bear or was being lied to, seemed to be a private eye Christina was paying to spy on her own daughter. Chastity was twenty-four. She had a job that might even be able to pay for this apartment. I think she deserved some privacy.

The guy kept chatting while he searched the room. He obviously thought he was the main character in a film noir. I tried not to judge. I mean, I had some pretty lame hobbies and a rich imaginary life. I mean, I didn't work as basically a hired stalker like this guy did, but my trust fund was pretty much funded by my parent's defense company. Then he crossed the line.

"You know," he said, emerging from the closet, something white in his hand, "your owner's a real cutie. Shame she can't show it off." I realized what he was holding before he spoke again. "Little miss Chastity's granny panties aren't exactly the most exciting thing in the world." Then, my rage increasing, he held my ex's undergarments to my nose and gave a sniff. "At least on the surface." His voice husky, he continued speaking as he rubbed them against his cheek, "Oh, I just gotta say, I wanna see her in nothing but these so bad."

Looking back, my rage as he described his voyeuristic, almost violent fantasies was extremely hypocritical. It still is. But I vowed, right then and there, I would find a way to hurt this creep in some way. I just had no idea how at the time.

He finally fished. Chuckling, he said, "And once again, I got carried away. Can't even use the bathroom 'cause she could come back soon. Well, don't tell Chastity, but I'll see you next week." He winked. "And don't tell Christina either. She thinks I come here every day."

With that, he went back into Chastity's closet. After a bit of rustling, which I assume was him putting everything back in order so Chastity wouldn't suspect anything, he left, pausing only to give me a cheery wave. I followed him with my bead eyes, willing him to drop dead.

It wasn't long after he left that I heard the door open once again. I was wondering who it was. Honestly, even though it sounded like they were making dinner, I would have been surprised if it was Chastity at that point.

And surprised I was. Chastity came in, wearing a white blouse and a grey skirt that ended below her knees. I'd seen this many times before. This is exactly the kind of stuff she wore in our private high school and at work. Her honey brown eyes were even more downcast than usual.

"Well, Teddy," she said looking at me, and I did a mental double-take at that, "I didn't expect Faith to keep her word. I'll have to thank her for getting you out of wherever the cops took you." She sat down on the bed and hugged me. "I know it's not really you," she said, tears in her eyes, "but I can't let it end like that." My back was to her with how she was holding me so I couldn't see her face, but I began to feel something drip on my head. "I lied to you so much," she sobbed, "even though you always tried to help me. Like how you and Maddie helped me sneak away to that Taylor Swift concert. And how I only knew she existed because of you."

I remembered that. That had been last year. Christina hated everything that even smacked of secularism. Chastity's best friend, Madison, on the surface seemed just about as Christian, but lacked an obsession with controlling literally every person around her. She'd covered for us when we went after I promised to not do anything more scandalous than to hold hands with Chastity.

In fact, music had been a key bonding point between the three of us. Both Madison and I would help smuggle in songs that Chastity couldn't be caught with when we were in high school. I'd had to curate some of my choices. For example, I could pretty much give entire Fall Out Boy and Chance the Rapper CDs to Chastity, but I had to make mixtapes of artists like Run The Jewels. Maddison, I hate to admit, also had good taste in music and it was more in sync with Chastity. Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and Jars of Clay are actually kind of good. It was kind of bittersweet to learn that the time the three of us had spent sharing music had been meaningful to Chastity.

After a while, her sobbing was at levels that she seemed able to control. "And I know you hated my dad," and I could hear her smile, "but you never said anything bad about him after he... after went. Even mom and Madison said horrible stuff about him." She laughed dryly. "You didn't exactly say anything about him, but you let me grieve. That's more than most people." There was a pause. "And you were always so honest with me. Compared to how I treated you."

There was a long pause during which Chastity squeezed me much tighter. I felt her tense up. Finally, she said, "You told me long ago you weren't sure we were compatible. You asked me to not ask more than that."

I remembered that conversation. We were in college, and, out of the blue, when we were alone together, Chastity asked what kind of things I'd want to do if she could have sex with me. Being her, she'd been embarrassed, especially because she'd been trying to be sexy. I'd told her I wasn't sure she might not be prepared to hear the answer. She'd seen how embarrassed that made me, and respected it.

I really didn't want to explain that I'd gotten really into mind control porn. I didn't want to talk to her about how I found slow corruption hot, or that I liked the idea of having a bisexual switch who was submissive to me, but would dominate other women hot. She would have told her mother and her mother would have destroyed me.

"And then," she said, "when I asked about marriage, you basically implied you wanted mom's blessing." That was inaccurate. I had said I would marry her if her mother left us both the fuck alone. "Well, mom wanted to know what kind of man you were." She hugged me even tighter and began to cry again. "She told me to hack you. To find your secrets. And I told her everything." She gulped to clear her throat. "You must think I'm so weak."

To my shame, in that moment, I did. I had known Christina was abusive, and I should have known that Chastity feared that woman more than anything else in the world. But I had to struggle to feel anything other than contempt for her. She'd spied on me, violated my privacy because her mom told her to.

Eventually, she stood up. "Well," she said, "I should stop talking to stuffed animals, I guess." She then walked over to an armoire and opened it up.

I'd been curious about that armoire when I'd first seen that she had a big walk-in closet. I was even more confused when I saw that most of the inside was dedicated to a mannequin head. Then she took off her hair.

She sighed. "Just another lie I told you," she said sadly as she put the wig on the wooden head. "I had cancer a couple years before I met you. My hair didn't grow back from the chemo."

While I was trying to wrap my head around this new revelation, she quickly stripped out of her shirt and bra, then threw on a white silk camisole. The skirt part went down to her knees. She then pulled off her skirt and underwear. The entire time, she tried to keep me from seeing too much, like she was embarrassed. Once the discarded clothes were folded up and put in a hamper in the armoire, she finally turned around.

When she did, I noticed the cami was cut to show nothing new. The breast cut showed only a little more than a v-neck t-shirt. "Well," she said, "this is what I really look like."

She didn't look bad, to be honest. Just... surprising. Her breasts seemed a little bigger, like she'd been wearing a bra to deliberately take her down a cup size or two, and the hairlessness of her head hadn't extended to the rest of her body, like she'd forgotten to shave for a couple days.

I thought she'd come back to bed and go to sleep. Instead, she stared at me, then at her mirror. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "I want to show you something, Teddy." She then walked over to the mirror. Standing beside it, she ran her fingers down the sides, hands moving in opposite directions. I heard a click, and then a secret compartment opened up.

From that she removed a laptop. My laptop. The one I looked at porn on. "I figured," she said, "you wouldn't want your family to find this." She then looked a little guilty. "I also wanted it. It was a part of you."

Bringing it over to me, she sat down and opened and logged in. "You wrote something for this... girl," she said. I winced. She was suppressing it, but I could hear the hurt and jealousy in her voice. "It was a script for her audio porn she did." She frowned. "I know why you did it, and it never went further. At least, not as far as I could tell." Her frown became a grimace of pain. "My dad would have done a lot worse than that."

She brightened, and said, "Still, I'm actually happy it happened. Now I know what you want. I just wish I'd been in a position where you could've told me, and not, y'know, a whore you met online." She finally found the file, and began playing it.

The script I'd written was about a girl who's boyfriend had given her a succubus costume for her to wear on Halloween. As she put the costume on, she slowly became more in thrall to her boyfriend as she actually transformed into a succubus. At the end, she even offered to dominate her friend for her boyfriend.

However, we didn't get to the end. I was desperately trying to keep the magical teddy bear cock from rearing its head, so to speak. If I had just been listening to the audio, I may actually have been able to control myself.

The thing that was sending me over the edge was Chastity. There she was, this girl that I had maybe-kinda-sorta loved, but who'd never believed was even interested in sex, let alone the fucked up things I liked. And instead of recoiling in disgust, she seemed enraptured. Leaning in, she was muttering along with the actress. Suddenly, I realized she was putting herself in the character's shoes, pretending to be the character. That was what really got me.

She turned around, trailing off mid-syllable. Somehow, as the cock-my cock-rose up, I could sort of hear her thoughts. Not loudly, and not specific words, but I had a rough idea. I could almost hear the years of enforced repression coming down. To visualize it, imagine a concrete wall built on top of a geyser. Her fear of her mother and her own sexuality were the wall.

The geyser, though, wasn't just her libido. If it was, she may have been able to resist. I could sense a vast reserve of willpower in her. I also sensed it in her sister. With Faith, that willpower hadn't been summoned to stop my fumbling, accidental manipulations because of her arrogance. With Chastity, though, that willpower was set on breaking that wall. She wanted to defy her mother, wanted to release her urges.

Chastity, I tried to broadcast, wait!

She paused. "Teddy?" she asked, her eyes growing wide.

Your sister, I broadcast, the effort draining, put me in this body.

My vision suddenly went black. "TEDDY!" Chastity screamed.

I knew something bad had happened to me. I felt fuzzy, and not in a way that was typical for my bear body. Like I had back at the accident. I was dying. She wants me to turn you into a slut, I continued, knowing it was killing me for a second time. So your mom... doesn't give you money... I blacked out again. When I came to, I continued, Can't let them win.

Chastity's look of horror faded away, replaced by a cold, hard expression I'd never seen on her face before. "Is that the only reason you don't want me to..." suddenly, she was embarrassed, despite still being terrifyingly enraged. "To... you know?"

I sent an affirmative. I couldn't use words anymore. The weakness was turning my vision blurry, and white cotton was creeping around the edges.

"Then let me save you," she said. "I don't care if... No, I'm tired of being me." She stared at me, pleading.

I sent my affirmative to her. It was weak, and she barely heard it. I had my fantasies, and I didn't want to die. She also wanted this, but she'd be the last person to do this willingly... at least consciously. Slowly, she lifted both herself and the hem of her nightgown. Then she lowered herself onto my plastic cock.

It was huge and it was her first time. I doubted it was even possible for woman of her size to take all of it. But she tried. Biting her lip and moaning with the effort, she slowly eased her way down... then began forcing her way down. I could feel her around my cock, and despite having already been wet and getting even more so, I could tell I could end up hospitalization-level hurt her if I didn't control her.

Stop, I commanded.

"But..." she protested.

Don't force yourself to take all of it, I broadcasted. Go up and down. She obeyed, slowly lifting herself up and falling back down. Up and down. Up and down. If I was speaking, I would have been slowing my voice. Find a depth you're comfortable with, and just go up and down.

I noticed that as she obeyed, I gained strength. That was... disturbing. But it was also hot. She was empowering me. When I realized this, an evil voice inside me wondered what I could do with that. What did I want her to be?

Meanwhile, I was continuing to command her, repeating myself in an almost hypnotic way. Up and down. As you do this, adjust the angle of your hips. Up and down, up and down, until you find an angle you enjoy.

Chastity had been gasping and moaning this entire time. Somehow, as she rolled her hips and pistoned up and down on my huge plastic cock, she managed to gasp, "What do... what do you mea-oh!"

At that, I could feel the pulse of pleasure that fluttered through her. Up and down, I urged. Your pleasure is my pleasure.

Suddenly, I had an idea. I may have started corrupting Chastity, but I could still make Faith lose. She'd slipped up, and so had Christina by hiring that incompetent perv. A plan began to take form in my mind. But to do that, I had to mold Chastity.

In my mind, I began forming an image of the new her: powerful, commanding. When I thought of her becoming sadistic, I noticed her becoming resistant. But if I framed it as helping other women finding pleasure through punishment, she stopped resisting. Slowly, I built an image in my mind of her in a latex dress with long skirt and corset, wearing a choker. Her wig was pale white and her makeup imperious. In opera-gloved hands she held a leash leading to a collar around Faith's neck. Smiling, she led Faith over to me...

After I painted this image in a way that Chastity found acceptable, she began to piston up and down faster and faster. Despite being... distracted, I held the image in my mind. I had a strong feeling I needed to keep it there. Eventually, Chastity jerked and gasped, her muscles tightening and relaxing in orgasm.

At that moment, I felt something pulse inside me. Liquid pulsed through my cock and into her. It felt as though it still were a part of me, though. I could feel it as it shot up into Chastity and into her body.

However, all I could feel from her was a sense of pleasure and exhaustion. Unable to rise enough to stop riding my cock, she collapsed on her side. Out of breath, she raised a hand to stroke my cheek. "Thank you... Master..." she said, seeming to test out how the word sounded in her mouth.

Slowly, her eyes closed and she fell asleep. I watched her for a little while.

Then I realized that Faith was also sleeping somewhere, dreaming.

And then I realized I could influence those dreams.