Matthew Reid – The Wizard.
Ryan “Craps” MacDonald – Matthew’s oldest friend.
Joseph Dyne – Matthew’s best friend.
Janine Porre – Matthew’s first love
Phoebe Waterson – An inherited sex slave.
Gwendolyn Ashcroft – A waitress sex slave Matthew took from work.
Tiffany Luck – A teenaged sex slave taken from Ottawa.
Raena Flores – A teenaged sex slave taken from Ottawa.
Meghan Reid – Matthew’s little sister.
Misty Reid – Matthew’s baby sister.
Ryan MacDonald – Saturday, July 11th, 2015
Phoebe was hellfire. I had tried to be a gentleman. I had tried to take her to dinner. To take her dancing. To take her anywhere. She just wanted to fuck. I made my peace with that.
The little slut was tight. About 5’6’’ and maybe a hundred twenty pounds. She had cold blue eyes and dark red hair. She dressed well, smelled amazing and fucking nothing was off the table. Except maybe dirty talk.
We fucked. I wrecked my bed and misused the couch I shared with Matthew and Joseph. The bitch even cleaned up afterwards.
Normally she was fair, maybe a little red if she was sweating, quite purple if I was feeling nasty. The skin of her ass wore my handprints eagerly.
“Thank you,” A breathless whisper. It was all she ever said once I got her clothes off. Her chin and tits a mess with the rivers of drool I had fucked out of her throat. Her eyes stained and bloodshot, her whole body shaking. I dug my fingers deep into her flooded cunt. Her musk invaded my room. That little thank you bubbled out of her while I proceeded to kill my wrist.
I think there’s something wrong with me. I loved fucking this cunt. She kept coming back. Joe kept abandoning our apartment. Where the fuck had Matthew got off to? His baby sister crashed in his room every other night. Try as I might I couldn’t advertise just how good I fucked sluts with Phoebe. I wanted to see Misty in the morning and make her uncomfortable. I wanted Phoebe to get louder.
It took weeks. I tried her ass. I ravaged her in the hallway. I banged her upside down. I choked her blue. I barely got more than a half panicked pant.
“How the fuck was that?” I asked and she just murmured “Thank you.”
This afternoon was the afternoon. I’d discover just where she was hiding her lungs. I half suspected she didn’t have any. She wasn’t flat chested, her perfect, natural double d’s had simply sunk into her empty rib cage and only her perky nipples reached past her chest.
“Who the fuck shit in your Corn Flakes?” Misty had asked before she had went out last night. I should probably swing by after I settled Phoebe. But I had to know.
The bitch came in with my laundry. She was dressed simple but super hot, blue jeans that could have been painted on. Too much clothes for me, even if the July weather was dank, unseasonably cool.
“Hi, Ryan,” She said and carried the basket into my room. Thanks to Phoebe, I finally owned folded shirts.
“Come out here,” I stood up off the couch. Our little living room had a tiny balcony, hardly big enough for two of those folding chairs Wrestler’s weaponized. I stepped out. I was just in a pair of striped boxer shorts and an untied robe. The wind rolled in off the harbor. It was good for me. Phoebe quietly came out beside me.
“Take your clothes off,” This I loved. Phoebe instantly tore off her tank top. Her jeans were a struggle. I waited. The girl only seemed to wear panties when her period hit. Her bare cunt was out and she stepped back into her sandals. I get it. The concrete wasn’t soft.
“If you want me to suck your cock out here, can I get a cushion from the couch to kneel on?” She asked. Her hair picked up in the wind and whipped about.
“No, just grab the railing,” She did, with both hands as I dragged my cock out of my boxers. She was wet. I slipped in like it was nothing. She grew tighter as I seated myself. She always accommodated. I thanked whatever daddy issues, abusive boyfriends, low self-esteem mind virus that had made her this way.
“The last girl, Lara, hates heights,” I told Phoebe as I took a solid grip of her hips, “She’d hardly come up to the apartment let alone out on the balcony.”
“Thank you,” Phoebe shuddered. For no sensible reason, I grew pissed. I looked across at the second tower. No one was out today. It was early, the few barbecuers would hold off till later in the afternoon. My outrage was my momentum, “Thank you.”
“Goddammit slut!” I heaved. I reached and took a fistful of red. She arched out as I pulled. Another thank you. I growled. A snapping bark echoed me.
“Oh!” This noise that came out of her throat sounded like it had collided with a kink in her larynx. I missed a beat. She twisted and turned. She could raise her voice. She could squeal. I wanted a “Fuck me, daddy!” Or something similarly pathological. What I got was a “Hi puppy!”
We were barked back at. Our neighbour’s massive Newfoundland sat staring at us. He barked again.
“Really?” I moaned, lost momentum pulled me back from the edge. That frustration I had been driven by was saddled with incredulity. I folded over her back, hurrying and not quite confident, I was getting anywhere. Another bark.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Athena!” I actually felt better as our cute neighbor stepped out onto her balcony. She was a cute brown girl of some origin. She had frizzy black hair weighed down with all of itself and a panicked reddening face framed in her square cut bangs. She gave me the finger when I smiled with eye contact.
“Your dog’s adorable, her name’s Athena?” Phoebe asked with a smile and no inclination to stop. Our neighbor stormed back into her living room. Her dog followed her, “I use to have, Deacon, he was a chocolate lab.”
“I don’t care, Phoebe,”
“Right,” She gripped the railing. I was probably giving only 40% of what was happening between us. I ramped it up.
“--Casa de Reid!” I was on a knife’s edge as our door was flung open and the prodigal son returned. Not much I could do then.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Phoebe.
Phoebe Waterson – Saturday, July 11th, 2015
“Wizard!” I bounded into the living room, pushing aside Ryan. I needed a real fuck. I needed a hug. Ryan wheezed on the balcony. There was Kleenex by the Xbox controllers. I needed to wipe up the cum. Ryan was a producer.
“This place is a shithole,” Announced a new girl. She was coming around the corner from the kitchenette. She was pretty. A little girl with a golden tan and fair blonde hair. Matthew really liked blondes. He didn’t hate ginger girls though. She saw me, “Tits!”
“What?” Matthew was a pace behind, “Phoebe?”
“Hey buddy, you’re back?” Ryan slapped my ass, needlessly scattering this mess from pussy to the coffee table.
“Who are these people?” Another girl, smaller, somehow, than the blonde flanked Matthew’s other side. He had the waitress behind him. Gwendolyn was terrified. I wondered where Sara had been hemorrhaged. Hell, she wouldn’t be missed.
“I think I get to ask that question,” Ryan declared, “Seeing as I live here and you don’t.”
“You’re fucking Craps?” Matthew asked me. He looked confused.
“We were supposed to take care of the apartment,” I declared.
“You’ve got like 4 girls, man,” Ryan’s arm wrapped my shoulder, “I can have one.”
“Dude, who are these girls?” Craps pointed out.
“Phoebe put your clothes on,” Matthew grabbed his hair, “Everyone else come sit down.”
The teens shot to the couch filling up on the left hand side. I picked my tank top off the armrest. They were fascinated by me.
“When did--” Matthew tried to ask something of Ryan and me but Ryan overshouted him.
“Janine!” He stepped right up in Matthew’s face, “What the fuck is she doing here?”
“We’ve decided to get back together.” This fourth girl, woman. She was older than me, maybe Carmen’s age, maybe older. She was attractive, if a little tired looking. She took Matthew’s hand and looked Ryan dead in the face.
“Craps, please. You don’t know what Matthew can do,” Janine shook her head and looked to Matthew, “Is Phoebe one of your girls?”
“One of yours!” Ryan turned on me as I stepped into my jeans. I had to let go and skip out of them as he dragged me up. I was forced to look into Ryan’s dark green eyes. He looked like the Wizard, if you took away chubbiness and added to the height, “What are we?”
“People?” I answered the confusing question.
“Fuck!” Craps spat.
“Dude calm down,” Matthew waved his hand, “Let Phoebe get dressed. There’s something I should’ve told you about.”
“Matthew?” Gwendolyn had taken the seat next to the blonde teenager.
“It’s OK,” He shook his head, “I didn’t want to do this twice. I wish Joseph was here.”
That’s when the front door opened again.
Joseph Dyne – Saturday, July 11th, 2015
“She’s doing OK,” I reassured Meghan for the eleventh time, “She’s missing Matthew.”
“We all are,” she harrumphed, “You still haven’t heard anything.”
“Nada,” I shook my head and swiped my way into the tower, “Though, I think this week without him makes the idea of no roommates look nicer and nicer.”
“You got to live by yourself. It’s great! I spend the greater part of my life naked,” She laughed as I reddened at the mental image. Meghan was incredible. I had fallen in love with her over a decade ago. I guess some things couldn’t be.
“Yeah, well that is the dream,” I said. The cleaning girl didn’t wave today. She’d been sour for a while. I hope things were OK but was glad I didn’t have to care, “This is the elevator. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Yeah, if you hear from Matty...”
“Of course,” I said, “Good-bye.”
“Bye Joe.” We hung up. I slipped my twelve year old Motorola Razr into my pocket. It was a bit too much phone for me. I liked a dumb phone. It was a quick ride up to the seventeenth floor. I usually took the stairs but today was just uncomfortable as it was.
Head down I walked in.
“Joe?” Ask Matthew. Good probably meant Craps at least had his robe on. I had come into him sodomizing the maid over the kitchen sink just two days ago.
“Hey buddy? Have you talked to your sis-” I had kicked off my shoes and turned the corner. Our place was littered with pussy. I didn’t care about the braindead ginger zipping her jeans. The jailbait on the sofa were irrelevant. That nice girl, the waitress, she had no excuse for being here. None of that mattered. Janine Sprecht was in our living room. She was dressed for an office except for the sultry wave of her hair falling. She smiled. I didn’t want to know.
“Joe, something amazing has happened to me.” Matthew beamed. Where was Henry? Where was little Janie? What was she doing here? “And we need to talk.”
“Yeah, buddy,” Craps grinned, “Apparently, I’ve been borrowing his piece.”
He squeezed the maid to his hip. She had that insignificant smile on her insignificant mind.
“C’mon sit down. Let me tell you what happened.” Janine nodded when Matthew spoke. I walked over to the balcony, everyone watching me, and took in the folding chairs. Matthew took one from me and Craps the other. I walked over to the couch. The little blonde scooted over against the brunette. I crossed my foot on my ankle. I waited. Janine pushed Matthew into the chair that he offered her. She sat the floor leaning her back against his knee. His fingers circled in her hair. I kept the teeth grinding to a minimum.
“Is there room here?” Asked the waitress, Jen maybe? No. I couldn’t remember. I shrugged. There was room and she folded her hands in her lap. Craps dragged Phoebe onto his knee. Matthew didn’t care for that.
“OK, talk.” I declared.
“A month ago-ish, I saved a girl.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Craps rolled his eyes. I had to agree. That was a terrible story.
“She introduced me to something I’m terrible at explaining.”
“Keep that quiet, Gwen,” He named her for me but that name was due to slip from my thoughts in just another sentence or two, “Anyway, one thing I can do. If I put a bracelet on a woman. I own her.”
“Not unlike slaves,” He blushed at least, “The guy, Rawlins, before me treated them like dirt. I can’t be that guy.”
“But you’ve been fucking them?” I asked flatly.
“Yeah,” He shook his head, “Look, what I’m saying is. Any woman, anywhere I can have her. It’s intoxicating. I fucked up like crazy over a few weeks. But I knew what I wanted, what I couldn’t live without,” Janine had her eyes closed and she seemed able to chase away her brain and enjoy it. Janine was the only woman I had ever met that I respected more than my own mother or Meghan Reid. She and Matthew had been soulmates and not functioning people. She saw it. She left him. He died, his life, his ambitions, his soul. But she had found a path. Matthew had found a way to take that away from her.
“I’m going to call for pizza,” I did a headcount, “Pepperoni and cheese?”
“What for all of us?” Matthew asked. As I flipped out my phone. I knew the number. They just asked their phone to call for them. No one complained three larges were inbound.
“So,” I asked afterwards. No one had said anything, “Are you done fucking up?”
“Yeah,” Matthew nodded, “I am.”
Waitress girl was smiling at that. Like some kind of lunatic. I wouldn’t have minded trading for a chair.
“So now what? You can’t afford your own life. What about these girls?”
“I’m starting a business,” OK, I was surprised by how clear and goal oriented he was for this. Matthew had only acted like this when he had built that Cube. He had done that. But still there were concessions. No power first. No upkeep second. He gave up on the Unglued land base. There wasn’t a card post Ninth Edition. Fun Cube though, “Deborah’s helping me. My boss from work.”
“Hillary told me you were fucking her,” I shrugged, “Didn’t believe that till we played Game of Thrones.”
“Anyway, she had plans for a catering company. I’ve taken them over. She knows how to run a business. She knows what we need, what to do, how to do it. I’ve got the resources to get started. I’ve got the reasons to get it done.”
He kept petting Janine, playing with her hair, like Blofeld of SPECTRE.
“Fuck you,” I told him.
“Yeah, thanks,” He smiled, “I should have told you from the first day. You too, Ryan.”
Goddammit! He called him Ryan. There was no getting through to this Matthew. He had retreated. His contrition would mean dick all. He legitimately was ashamed of himself. My displeasure would be a consequence to face. He’d take it as absolution.
“So what the fuck then?” Craps bounced Phoebe, “You’ve got a harem of sluts?”
“Sort of, I guess,” Matthew muttered, “Phoebe are you OK?”
“I’m worried you’re mad at me,” She said with an emotional range that Duchovny would’ve dwarfed as Fox Mulder.
“I’m not mad.” Matthew said and all that unreadable worry on her face was circumvented with an unreadable serenity, “Do you like Craps?”
“Sure,” She avowed. I looked over to the girls on my couch. The teeny boppers were awe inspired. Waitress was terrified. Matthew proceeded to make things worse.
“Gwen? Gwendolyn?” He corrected himself, “Could you sit on Joe’s lap?”
“No.” I rebuked.
“I’ve got another lap,” Craps offered sharktooth.
“Matthew!” She worried.
“It’s OK,” He said with a sad smile, “I just need to know.”
Fucking idiot. Gwendolyn shivered as she put her butt down on Craps’s lap. She looked to Matthew when our roommate’s hand settled on her hip. There was a knock at the door.
“Go get that.” I handed three twenties to the blonde teenager. She looked at the money like it was poison but the brunette took it and skipped off.
“Pizza will make things better.” Matthew told himself.
Janine Porre – Saturday, July 11th, 2015
The quiet had come and gone. I was less afraid now. Things could even be said to be better. I wouldn’t be the one saying it. I leaned back against Matthew’s knees and he petted my hair like I was a bitch. I was his bitch. I kept my promise. I smiled and Joseph scowled.
“This isn’t fucking right,” He said, “She was your friend.”
“I was in love with her,” Matthew explained, “I never really stopped.”
“And what about her? Shouldn’t she get a vote,” Joseph threw his hands up. He fell back into the couch cushions. Tiffany carried in the pizzas. Had we really been tossing this football back and forth the whole time. Phoebe went to fetch plates.
“Do you love me Janine?” Matthew teased a finger around my ear. He had prepared me. I couldn’t deny loving him. That wouldn’t be true. But I hadn’t accepted it.
“Of course I do,” I said like it was nothing. He sent me over to get a couple of slices for us. Tiffany dropped down on the couch between Joseph and Raena. Craps bounced Gwen a little more on his lap.
“Matthew?” Gwen asked again. Jesus! He makes you suck dicks! Why do you care who they’re attached to? I judged my response off of Matthew’s hand on my hair. He was unhappy with the trajectory of this experiment. Craps wasn’t. That boy seemed to have shed what few brain cells I remembered for more libido. Phoebe settled in on Craps’ other lap.
“Yeah?” He replied to Gwen around a face of pepperoni.
“Now that we have Janine. And you said you were done screwing up. Does that mean these are all the girls you need?” She was hopeful and horribly naive. If Joseph had Matthew’s powers he might have managed not getting another girl for a couple of years. If I had his powers, I’d have girls too. Everyone would succumb eventually.
“There’s no fucking way!” Craps answered for Matthew. Matthew let him. “What do you have? 10 bitches?”
“Twentyish,” Tiffany and Gwen gave him glares. I figured bitch was a better moniker than I could hope for.
“That’s like a war crime,” Joseph scoffed.
“I try and treat them well,” Matthew defended himself like a fool. I think Tiffany and Raena agreed with him. They would. Gwen was having trouble, being on Craps’ lap but she wanted to believe he was a good man. Phoebe was unconcerned. I just knew. Matthew was Matthew.
“And with this power you can have any fucking girl there is! You got to at least want him to try some really top shelf pussy,” Craps’s hand was rubbing apart Gwen’s legs from inside her thighs, “Would you expect him to pass up Scarlett Johansson?”
“I guess not,” Gwen sulked.
“I’m really more of an Anna Kendrick guy,” Matthew interjected pointlessly.
“Who’s she?” Phoebe asked.
“Stacey Pilgrim,” Matthew explained and Joseph nodded. Tiffany and Raena were still blank faced.
“Pitch Perfect,” I illuminated them. Joseph trundled on.
“I still say Ramona’s the way to go,” He defended some age old argument.
“And I’ll take Bree Larson,” Craps laughed, “Seriously, everybody. Name a star, fuck the bitch.”
“I like Jennifer Lawrence,” Tiffany suggested. Raena laughed.
“Yeah, I guess we’ll have to fuck them too, huh?” She beamed, “I want a go at Karen Gillan.”
“Who?” Gwen asked. I was going to make an ally of her. Doctor Who fans are intolerable. Joseph seemed to agree.
“Doctor, yes,” Raena replied.
“Whatever,” Gwen retorted offended that she was being made fun of.
“What about you Janine?” Craps asked me. I had a handful of ways to answer this. It was easier to just pick someone Matthew would find hot.
“Alison Brie,” I grinned. From Mad Men but there was no way Matthew wasn’t a Community fan.
“Nice,” Craps chuckled. He pinched Gwen’s ass, “Your turn, bitch.”
“Don’t call her bitch, Craps,” Matthew sighed.
“Fine, fine,” He retreated, “C’mon Gwenny, who do we get to watch you fuck?”
Gwen was burning red. I think she was angrier at Gwenny than bitch. I’d need that later. She caught Matthew looking at her, waiting.
“Dr Alex Reid from Saving Hope.” She nearly stammered. Sara had fingered Gwen in the car. She really wasn’t gay. I bet she picked her because of the Reid name.
“Who’s that?” The three boys asked.
“Erica Durance,” I answered with a sigh. Seriously, if it didn’t have a cape, a spaceship or a Last Crusade, Matthew had no idea.
“Lois Lane?” He beamed, “Nice choice, Gwen.”
And her smiling back just made her next girlfucking even worse. I had never eaten pussy. I kind of hoped I wouldn’t have to start on Gwen. I guess I could just make that choice on my own. I’d have to wait until I saw the other fifteen girls though. I couldn’t stomach Tiffany and Raena after their stunt in the diner.
“No one else finds this fucking sick?” Joseph asked. And sure, we probably all did. Useless fucking question.
“Who’s your celebrity crush?” I asked him.
“What? Didn’t I say Mary Elizabeth Winstead already?” He asked offended.
“Yeah, like any of us have just one,” Raena scoffed. She had been eating crow because of that mouth since Matthew had fucked her. You’d hope she could learn.
“Who’s the actress who played Kaylee--”