I awoke the next morning with the surreal racket of three women snoring in my bed. Maya was the closest, cradled in my arms with her furry ears tickling my nose, and Debra and Debbie, mommy and baby girl, spooning, pressed against Maya from the other side. Trying not to move, I stared up at the ceiling and listened to my house creak and grumble.
My wife was not in the room. Sandra said that she would be sleeping with her for the next couple of weeks until she learned proper respect for her new Dark Lorde and Master. They were apparently at Sandra's apartment. The college-aged half-fey girl indeed exhibited a streak of sadism in her. I remembered the way she fucked my sobbing wife with a strap-on while she whipped her ass with one of those long thin rods they used on horses, what were those called again?
"A riding crop," I muttered to myself in satisfaction and Maya whimpered beside me. Shit, I didn't want to wake her up. I was her Guardian after all. That was what the druid said, ordained by the old Teutonic gods to protect her.
A day ago, I had been invited to join one of the new-aged churches that had cropped up after the weird zeitgeist of sex and magic that had awakened across the world. The newly reformed pagan Osterite church was increasingly popular, likely because of ritualized orgies, but now I knew that the professed magical beliefs of the church were not theological, but all too real. I had become an avatar with my very own Leporidae fairy sex slave who was destined to bear my child and fulfill a prophecy.
Maya, the feminine and childlike sprite, rested her head against my chest. Her tiny nose twitched softly. She looked like a young girl, barely eighteen, reed-thin, mostly coltish legs and perky titties. The only thing which mak her as non-human were the long rabbit ears that extended from the top of her head like two thin ribbons, and the tiny cottontail that rested on her tailbone.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Sandra, the elven high priestess of the new church that worshipped me, had told the girls that I was to be awakened with a three-headed blowjob like some sort of sexual hydra. She seemed intent on catering to any and all fantasies I would have (Something about that I didn't entirely trust; I knew that there had to be an ulterior motive for trying to keep me happy and distracted with sex orgies.) and Debra and Debbie, good little Osterites that they were, happily complied. But the whole thing, great in theory, didn't seem to work in practice. I tended to wake up early, and I like having the mornings to myself. And probably one of the most unlikely scenarios in my unbelievable life, I wasn't going to wake them just to get a blowjob.
I left the room and went to the downstairs's bathroom so that I wouldn't wake anyone.
I used the bathroom, turned on the shower, then went to wash my hands. I was too groggy-eyed to stare at my middle-aged reflection in the mirror. The fog curled up around the edges framing my body. My scruffy, pudgy face was not what I saw in the mirror. This new face was different; everything was more angular, less bloated. My eyes were less bloodshot. My hair was fuller, and darker, the receding hairline filling in, the bald spot at the back growing out with lush, silky hair. If you squinted or used one of those social media apps that digitally altered your face, you would notice that I looked rakishly handsome now in an Eastern European kind of way. Somehow, my jowls had tightened into a lantern jaw. I could have been an extra on one of those HBO shows about the girl who rode dragons and such.
My body had changed too. I must have lost ten, maybe twenty pounds. I was no muscled Adonis, but my body had rapidly shifted in the night to where I looked like the college-age version of myself. I flexed my muscles, pretending I was holding a barbarian's sword.
"My name is Gladiator," I growled.
"Daddy, are you okay?"
It was tiny little Debbie. She was shorter than her mother with apple sized tits that were perky instead of pendulous. Whereas Debra had the figure of an 80's Playboy model with coiffed blond locks and a matching bunny-shaped mons pubis, Debbie, the girl next door type, reminded me of Melissa Benoist from Supergirl. The belly ring and landing strip running down to her pussy was the only evidence that she was less than virginal.
Just turning eighteen, Debbie was a recent initiate of the church. Her mother, in a rather unmotherly act, had brought her into the fold. Debra was a true believer who felt she was doing the will of the Old Gods by sacrificing her daughter. However, she wasn't quite willing to let go of the girl and made sure that she and her daughter always served together. They were like time-lapsed versions of each other.
"Daddy, you should really let one of us bath you from now on. Sandra gave Mom and me strict orders to serve you," Debra said this as she stepped forward in front of me. Her hands reached into the shower and tested the water temperature.
"You don't have to call me Daddy, you know."
She smiled up at me all cute and innocent.
"But I like calling you, Daddy. Blame it on being the product of a single-parent household."
She looked at me and bit her lip. Her hand went out and grabbed me by my stiffening cock and then pulled me into the shower.
"Of course," she said as the water cascaded around us, "I have to call you anything you want me too. The traditionalists would say I have to call you Dark Lorde, Sandra would say Master, but you just don't seem like the master type to me. You're a daddy type, a really sexy daddy type."
She stroked me a few times with her tiny hands, before turning around, brushing her ripe ass against my cock, and grabbing some of my wife's body wash. It was the only kind we had and was supposed to smell like pomegranates. I guess I should have felt guilty letting this tiny thing wash me with my wife's body wash, but all I was feeling was the need to grab this girl's firm ass cheeks, so much firmer than my wife's, and spread them apart.
"Turn around," she insisted and resisting every impulse I had to grab her and fuck that tight ass, I did. I placed my hands up against the tile surface of the shower and leaned against the wall. Debra started to wash me, kneading the sore muscles of my back with her dancing fingers. She lifted herself up on her tippy toes to massage my neck.
Then she kneeled down, and I could feel her hands on my ankles, and rising up my legs to my ass. Looking down, I was still surprised to see the trunk of a cock that had somehow magically expanded, jutting out like some kind of weapon, and the hands moving up towards it. Soon she started washing my balls and my cock from behind, stroking me a few times as she continued:
"I need to make this giant, fucking cock squeaky clean. This is the cock of a Dark Lorde, meant to destroy little pussies like mine, to break women and make them drooling bitches, to make the women of the world fall to their knees and beg."
It was hard to process such nasty things coming out of such an innocent young woman's mouth.
"Turn around, Master," she insisted again.
I turned, and I couldn't help but slap her in the face with my cock. A bit of suds stuck to the side of her young face from where I cock-slapped her.
"Daddy," she gasped playfully. "You're going to poke my eye out."
She reached up to pull my head down towards her and gave me a tiny kiss on the lips. For the first time, I saw her blush. This was the first time she was naked with a man without her more voluptuous mother beside her chaperoning her like a cock governess.
She started to wash the front half of my body while the back was rinsed off. Starting with her hands, she rubbed the soap into my chest and abdomen. My chest was broader, and my waist slimmer as I had been in college, and again, I recognized that something incredible had happened to me.
I watched Debbie's melons jiggle as she washed me, and I couldn't resist reaching across to massage them with my soapy hands.
She giggled and mocked admonished me. "I'm supposed to be washing you, daddy."
I pulled her into the stream of water with me and began to suck on each nub as she cooed. My cock helplessly fucked her hand as the soap fell off our bodies.
Psychically, I could feel Maya in the other bed playing with herself. Debra, the mother of the girl I was about to destroy, woke up, oblivious to her daughter's absence, and with a moan quickly moved between Maya's legs to pamper my domesticate's wet lips. Maya cooed, and I could feel our link grow stronger with arousal, and I suddenly remembered Sandra's command.
"Sandra said I can't fuck you," I told her. "That was really one of her one and only rules."
"You can't breed me," Debbie said, "but Daddy, I have two other warm holes for you to use."
As if to demonstrate, Debbie dived on my cock and tried to swallow it, pushing it about halfway down her throat before, defeated and teary-eyed, she came up for air.
She wiped the saliva off her lips and looked up at me doe-eyed.