Mark sat in the driver's seat of Sarah's SUV; Sarah sat next to him in the passenger seat. She always insisted they take her car when they drove places; Mark suspected she liked seeing him drive her car, and he had to admit it was much nicer than his hatchback that he'd had since college. They sat parked in the far, empty reaches of the lot of the flea market they'd just visited. The ignition was on so they could run the A/C; the hottest day of the summer was no time for environmentalism.
Sarah, Mark's co-worker-turned-sex-slave was brushing her hair, humming softly to herself, while Mark spoke on the phone to Amber, his coffee-date-turned-sex-slave. Mark didn't love thinking of them that way, but he also reasoned that he would have a hard time finding two people on the planet who fit that description better. Their own words were that they 'lived to serve' him, 'were made for his pleasure', that their purpose was to 'suck and fuck and pleasure and be used by him whenever he desired'. Again-
their
words. Amber was particularly adept at dirty talk, but they both swore up and down that every word was true.
And it was more than sex; they cooked for him, kept his apartment clean. They were even helping him keep his personal goals like exercising more and reading all those books he told himself he wanted to read. It had been just shy of three weeks since that fateful Sunday morning when Amber had caught him at the coffee shop near his apartment, and changed his life. He didn't really want to give that up.
But it felt like the right thing to do-- to at least
try
to free them from this spell.
Mark didn't really understand it himself, but on the first occasion when he'd met Amber, on a random sunday before her sun rose and set in his pants, he'd poured her a cup of coffee from the pot behind the counter into her own conspicuous mug, and accidentally triggered some sort of magical mind-slave sorcery in the process. 'Sorcery' was the term he'd kept calling it in his mind. He had hoped that giving it a suitably evil-sounding name would keep him from admitting to himself how much he liked having them around, how happy he was, how happy he thought
they
were.
Mark was torn. Divided. He was half-hoped he wouldn't find what he was looking for here, and felt half-ashamed of that fact.
"Sarah and I asked around for hours, babe. A few people recognize you from the photo I showed them. You...uhh...tend to leave an impression," Mark smiled, picturing the gaggle of men whose eyes would flock to her like ducks to breadcrumbs; her perfect ass swaying hypnotically under a tight cotton garment just barely large enough to fit the legal definition of 'shorts', her breasts barely contained under a similarly small top that left her midrift exposed. She would have been hard to forget. "But nobody remembers that old man you told me about or his stall of wares. The administration said no one like that had had permission to sell here all summer. One guy swore up and down he remembered the face of every vendor for the last 20 years and knew everyone's name."
Mark paused a moment, "I'm at a loss, babe; your man's a ghost."
Amber had told Mark where she'd gotten this strange, apparently enchanted, coffee mug; though it had taken a direct order from him, which he usually didn't have to give. Amber repeatedly assured him she did not want to go back to her old life. He was out here now with Sarah more than 2 weeks after Amber had told him this was the flea market where she'd bought it because whenever he'd brought up coming out here to investigate it, she would sit in his lap and massage him with her ass, or pour water down the front of her shirt, or Sarah's shirt or get on her knees and beg for Mark's 'yummy cock' until well past the point only someone abandoned by their sanity would deny her, or--well, she had ways of changing the subject. In fact, she did all those things, and more, all the time, Mark truly believed she enjoyed it. Enjoyed him. Mark didn't doubt that both she and Sarah were sincere; if not this was the most elaborate joke he'd ever heard of. But neither of them was eager to patronize his fixation.
"Ahh I'm sorry, baby", Amber made the effort to sound empathetic, even though Mark knew this was the outcome she'd hoped for. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."
Mark could hear the smile in her voice as Amber said, "I'll make you forget alllll about it. Don't you worry." Every fiber in Mark's being believed she'd fulfill that promise. Some of Mark's fibers believed it a little
harder
than others.
Wait. "When you get home?" Mark furrowed his brow, "where did you go?"
"Just out to pick up a few things," she replied in a casual tone.
Mark knew she was hiding something. But didn't press. He was confident that Amber would tell him exactly what she was doing if he asked her directly. He was pretty sure the enchantment didn't
allow
her to refuse. But he decided to let her have her little secret. Mark's birthday was coming up, and if Amber was setting up a surprise, he didn't want to ruin it. He could order her to tell him what she was planning; he knew that the pleasure she got from obeying him was greater by far than whatever satisfaction she derived from surprising him. But instead....
"Alright", Marked smirked to himself. "Well I--"
"And take your time, babe" Amber interrupted. "Stroll around the flea market with Sarah for a while. I know there are some interesting things to see. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy Sarah." Mark could hear Amber's smile with those words. "Take your time", she repeated the words slowly, adding a little extra meaning.
Mark blushed, "Okay, I'll catch up with you later, then. Bye"
"Bye, I love you! Mwah!"
Mark sat frozen as he heard the distinct sound of the call ending. She had never said those 3 words before. Mark's eyebrows raised as he realized that he wasn't uncomfortable with her saying them at all, and that he felt them as well. He was only sorry he hadn't said them back. When he saw her in person next, he would tell her. And Sarah. He would tell them both how he felt, as strange still it was that he would be saying it to two people at the same time.
He looked over at Sarah. She was still humming softly to herself playing with her hair. Mark had told her to keep an eye on the flea market for anyone suspicious or strange-looking, otherwise he knew that she would be looking directly at him, licking her lips suggestively, or poking her tongue against her cheek to mime sucking his dick, or stretching her back to thrust her chest towards him, simultaneously rubbing her nipples through her shirt.
Mark took a beat to look at her, before telling her she cease stop her vigilant watch. Admiring her beauty, Mark noticed that Sarah looked a little different than she had a month ago. Mark thought she looked a little trimmer. She had always been fit, with no excess of fat, but now she somehow seemed a little skinnier Mark thought. Except, he admitted her bust and her ass hadn't lost any size at all, and even seemed like they'd gotten larger. The more he stared the more certain he was that Sarah was hotter now that she had been. Was this a side effect of the enchantment?
