Disclaimer: All character engaging in sexual activity in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
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Driving to Sandy's house to pick her up for our date the following Sunday afternoon, I rode a rollercoaster of emotion. On the one hand, I was giddy about the addition of such a beautiful and intelligent woman to my harem, while simultaneously finding what looked to be an ideal home for my girls and me.
Ianthe was a delight, too, and I found myself enjoying telling her what to do more than I imagined I would. Whatever fallout she was dealing with at work from her subordinate's fuckup had kept her engaged since I'd bonded her a week prior, but she texted constantly. The good girl inside her needed my comfort and guidance, reaching out to reaffirm my tender regard. I responded quickly every time, knowing it was critical for me to solidify the still-fragile roles I'd established for us.
She had ducked out of a few of her team meetings when things went badly, contacting me by phone. As always, I gave her the peace she sought. It was enough to convey my approval of the harsh taskmistress work persona I'd seen her bring out before, commanding her to use it as necessary -- though not capriciously -- to get the job done correctly. I intuited that much of her suffering was caused by the regret of the sweet girl inside her. The frosty, calculating businesswoman outside had to act harshly toward others, and it didn't sit well with who she really was. Assuming the burden of guilt for her had helped Ianthe find a deal of tranquility, which made me genuinely happy to see.
Unsurprisingly, given the nature of our bond, my orders carried overtones of sexuality for Ianthe, leaving her -- by her admission -- needy and pent up. One time she was so frustrated and distressed that I had to talk her through an intense masturbation session in the ladies' room to calm her down. Her relief finally arrived when I commanded her to cum. She had, violently. I could hear the sound of her gushing into the toilet over the phone. It gave me no end of satisfaction that she could squirt for me; that I could reach her on such a level sent my ego into the stratosphere. Afterward, I heard the amazement in her tone as she related feeling vaguely like I was actually inside of her. It intrigued me with the prospect of an added dimension to phone sex with my bonded girls.
I suspected that Ianthe's team should have been thanking me for a much more mellow boss riding herd on them that day.
On the other hand, I had told my parents about my plans to move out and delay my college entrance, which went about as well as I expected. As I'd imagined, it was a whole lot of disappointed shaking heads, "you need to think about your future", "we taught you better than this", and "you're not the son we raised". They threatened to pull my college fund if I didn't matriculate next fall.
I'd always had a good relationship with my parents, but I felt some rebellious resentment at how strongly they'd reacted to my decision. I knew them to be pretty strait-laced people, but you'd think I'd committed murder considering the heaping dose of scorn they gave me. I admitted that I could see it from their side; my decisions probably looked like I was on drugs. They'd asked as much, in fact, but I knew they didn't believe it -- they'd know it if I were doing that under their roof.
In the end, what hurt the most wasn't their anger, but the look of deep disappointment on their faces. The little sparkle in their eyes that told me they were proud of me. Proud of the man I was becoming. That light had gone dim.
But what choice did I have? This was my life now, and nothing I could do would change that. I wasn't going to run around hiding it all forever -- except maybe the part about being a demon with mind control powers who derived sustenance from sex. That part I would keep to me and my girls.
At least I'd ripped the band-aid off. The huffing and puffing would stop eventually, and there was nothing they could do to stop me in any event.
When I pulled up to Sandy's house in my trusty Honda, she was sitting on the porch waiting for me.
I wolf-whistled through the open window. "Heya, Sweetheart," I shouted in my best creeper voice. "You, uh...need a ride somewhere?"
She looked up at me and beamed.
"Gee, I dunno Mister, I'm not supposed to take rides from strangers."
Wearing a t-shirt and skin-tight jeans with a pair of wedge sandals, she jogged over to the car. The word "TINY" emblazoned the white cotton tee across her mountainous tits in large black letters. I stared openly at them bouncing all over the place.
She opened the door and hopped in. My mouth watered at the sight of the letters on her shirt distorted by the intense gravity of her twin celestial bodies. It might have just been how tight her shirt was, or perhaps she wore a new bra, but
damn
, did they look big. Bigger than I remembered, that was for sure.
Sandy fastened her seatbelt, fussing with the shoulder strap endlessly to get it to lay comfortably between her breasts. My cock stirred as I watched her move it this way and that, lifting her tits and shifting her bra through her t-shirt to get it all just right. It seemed to take much longer than it needed to for her to get situated. The sight of the belt now nestled deep within her cleavage, left boob spilling over its top edge had me hungry for her already.
Picking up where we left off, I replied, "Ohh, but I can promise you you've never been for a ride like this. It's a
magic
ride." Holy shit, that was cheesy.
Sandy laughed at my idiocy as I put the car in gear and started off, trying to focus on the road.
She gave an exasperated groan. "Ugghhhh, finally! I feel like I've been waiting for
ever
for our date!"
I nodded. "I've been looking forward-"
Sandy cut me off. "What did you say? It's hard to hear you when big Adam talks over you."
I glanced over at her to find her staring at my crotch. Ah, yes, this again.
Sandy continued in her sweet voice. "Yeah, I know, I heard it too." Her eyes rolled. "He says some dumb things sometimes, but he does take good care of you..." she bent to whisper conspiratorially with my crotch, "so we need to keep him around."
Smirking, I glanced over to watch her continue her conversation with 'little Adam'.
"But Adam, aren't you even going to come say hi to me? I don't want to talk to you through the door. C'mon, I got dressed up for you and everything," she pleaded, "I saw this shirt and just
knew
you'd love it. Come see!"
At this point, I was half-hard, but she knew talking to my cock always got me going, and this time was no exception as it inched toward the edge of my shorts.
