Every Woman Has a Price - Cover

Every Woman Has a Price

Copyright© 2019 by Redsliver

8 - Hidden Fees

Mind Control Sex Story: 8 - Hidden Fees - What if you could buy anyone? That beautiful waitress at your favorite hangout? That gorgeous screaming chick in that metal band you never miss? What about that redhead? Just a stranger on the street. Could you handle her? Could you handle her enemies?

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Magic   Mind Control   Slavery   Lesbian   Group Sex   Harem   Slow  

Elizabeth caught Darlene’s attention as she was leaving. The blonde felt like she could still feel Owen’s three hour old cum sloshing about in her womb like a storm on the high seas. She tied her hair back in her ponytail. She swayed from foot to foot as Darlene sent off her last table.

“What’s wrong, bitch?” Darlene bumped Elizabeth’s hip with her own. She was in a good mood, the last table had tipped 20%. A much improved demeanour after the three ugly tipless dykes had left the brunette tipless.

“Hey, can I get your advice?” Elizabeth frowned.

“Sure, I’m not a doctor, a lawyer, or a financial advisor.” Darlene beamed. “Other than that, I’m the perfect fashionista sexpert who knows all of the best romance novels.”

“No, I know that.” Elizabeth sighed. “I need to know how to dump a guy.”

“And you’re not willing to get caught fucking his friends, brothers, dad, or boss?” Darlene joked. Elizabeth didn’t have the spirits to enjoy it. Darlene squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder. “You want to end things with Brett?”

“I’ve started something with another guy.” Elizabeth said. “I don’t want to be unfair.”

“Oh, Owen?” Darlene lost all of her humor and empathy.

“Look, I can’t explain it...” Elizabeth said. “I think I’ve been cursed.”

“Fuck...” Darlene said. “Look, go here.” Darlene reached over the bar and grabbed her phone from where it was stashed. She texted Elizabeth the name of the cafe. “I’ll meet you after work. If you want me not to hate you, have a coffee and a pastry covered in chocolate and filled with cream waiting for me.”

“Yeah, but, I don’t think I should wait.” Elizabeth said. Darlene glared at her. Elizabeth dropped her shoulders. “Alright, fine.”

She said her agreement to the back of Darlene’s head. The brunette waitress was off after the next table who looked to have had enough time to read the menu.


Zera felt the fist in her hair and the cum splattering into her mouth with a warm nostalgia. Green haired girl had been sent off and she had dragged Roxxi with her. Tamara, the busty girl, held Zera’s ass cheeks but the skittish bimbo hadn’t known what to do with Zera’s pussy inches in front of her nose. Zera waited with her eyes closed until Owen stopped moaning and let go of a handful of Zera’s silver dyed hair.

“Shit, wow.” Owen rubbed her cheek affectionately as the punk girl slid back. Tamara knee walked and sat down on her ankles next to Zera. Owen’s blue eyes looked over the two pairs of brown ones. “What’d you think?”

“I thought it was hot.” Tamara sucked up. Zera rolled the wad of cum around the back of her tongue. She pointed her chin upward and swallowed.

“You cum big.” Zera went with the most honest praise she could give. Her phone buzzed on her pile of discarded clothes. Owen gestured for her to get it.

“Where are you sluts at?” And other impatient texts had come from her girlfriends. Not one question of whether Roxxi was OK. Maybe they’d ask when they got the whole story. Maybe. Provided one didn’t make a show of out tough-girling the other two. They were such immature boys sometimes. Zera turned off her phone.

“I’ll be honest,” Owen said looking at Zera. “You’re the only one who got this on purpose. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“What’s wrong?” Zera stood up and stretched. Her perky tits were tiny but they had his attention. Zera was self conscious shoulder to shoulder with Tamara. That was more about kneeling and accepting. She was standing and acting now. That took more backbone. “You fuck up with me?”

“I fucked up with everyone.” He was brushing his fingers through Tamara’s hair. “I’m glad you’re hot, but this was just proof of concept. I don’t think I would’ve picked you if it hadn’t been--”

“Easy?” Tamara hoped.

“Serendipitous.” Zera corrected. “Listen, I don’t need apologies or hand holding. I don’t need limp wristed shit. You got me, I can’t get out, I don’t know how to get out, and if I could get out, I’d leave it for a couple of weeks just to see what the fuck I was now up in.”

“Really?” Owen said. He pulled his ass in from his receptive blowjob posture and thrust his shoulders up. She’d be here willingly? Not unwillingly at least. He was grinning with pride. Tamara looked confused by the change in him. Zera nodded.

“Really, seriously, truly,” she lifted her fingers up in a salute. “Girl Guide’s honor or some shit.”

“Do you have a Girl Guide costume?” He asked. He blinked. “Do I even know what one of those looks like? Huh. I’m thinking green mostly. White shirt, sash, beret.”

“Girl Scouts are American.” Tamara said. “In Guides we wore blue.”

“I don’t, never was, don’t even know if this three fingered thing is the right salute.” Zera waved her hand. “Look, this shit is interesting. Do I go back to my girlfriends’ place to get my shit or to sleep?”

“Girlfriend?” Owen smirked. Then he shook his head. “My dick can’t keep up with what I have. Sorry.”

“Girlfriends.” Zera said. “And the three of them clock in just shy of 700 pounds combined.”

Owen’s face dropped.

“Yeah, I thought not. The only fat things I’ve seen you with are on Tamara’s chest.” Zera gestured.

“Darlene’s got big tits too.” Owen defended himself. Tamara crossed her hands over her knees and looked down unhappily.

“Alright, fine. You need a pack mule? What do you need to get?” Owen asked. He stood up. He looked down at his discarded clothes. He pointed to the washroom. “Tamara, get in the shower. We’ll join you in a moment.”

“Yes, sir.” Tamara nodded. Her collapsed demeanour caught Owen’s attention. He stroked her hair and cheek. She flashed her eyes up wildly at him. She waited for him to speak on bated breath. Her mind tumbled with imaginary promises. “I’m not your sir. I’m Owen and I’ll love you as much as you can love me.” Her heart fluttered. She ignored Zera.

“Sir’s a bit stiff.” He said. “If its a direct order, we’ll say ‘Yes, Master.’” He looked over Zera. He looked of Tamara. “Agreed?”

“Yes, Master.” Tamara mumbled. She had been turned on or angry since Owen’s attention had left her for Elizabeth, Roxxi, and Zera. Saying the words made her knees shake.

“Whatever rocks your boat.” Zera had answered. Owen’s smile was for her. There hadn’t been a direct order. He looked to Tamara. She yelped behind her heavy lidded eyes and rushed to the shower.

“What are we getting? Will we need a vehicle?” Owen asked.

“Roxxi’s stuff too?” Zera asked.

“Yeah,” He looked over at the door. “Roxxi too.”

“For tonight?”

“For keeps.” Owen turned. “But you knew that when you started asking.”

“Shit yeah.” Zera frowned. “I did. We can get away with a car unless we’re going to take Roxxi’s furniture. It’s her couch, her table, the whole second bedroom. The girls took advantage when Roxxi left the dorms to join them.”

“Well, if we need another bed, I’ll buy one. Think clothes, schoolbooks, and computers.” He said. “And like, other shit you’d need.”

Zera nodded. She had a stuffed Siberian tiger buried in the closet. She’d want that. “You got a car?”

“No,” Owen shook his head. “Nor does Janice and Tamara.”

“Don’t look at us then. Hell, Roxxi doesn’t have her license.” Zera said.

Owen walked over to the tv and picked up the discarded ID cards. “Huh, I’ve never seen an ID that wasn’t a license before.”

“Or you just didn’t recognize it.” Zera pointed out.

“Or that.” He nodded. “I’ll send a text. Otherwise, I don’t mind renting a car for a few hours.”

“K, shower. You need another blowjob?” Zera gestured. Owen grinned. Zera wasn’t dismissive of the sex thing. There was excitement. Her naked body, tattooed over her wrists, shoulders, the front of her waist and her hip, was an energized sexual signpost. Yet, she was showing that she was compelled to respond. Owen rolled his shoulders and stroked his cock to a slow resurgence.

“I’m gonna fuck Tamara’s tits,” He said. “She needs the attention. Zera, you’re going to wash my back and hair.”

Her eyes focused and smoldered. She licked her faded black lips. “Yes, Master.”


Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. She ducked her head. Crap! Crap! She did not want to see that blue haired freak of a girl! Why here? Why wouldn’t the slut be here! Elizabeth wouldn’t have known. The waitress had never came here before. Fucking, meanspirited, hateful, little girl. Oh, God! Please don’t let the rest of the--

“Hey Lizzie!” She hated being called Lizzie, but it got her attention. Especially when she could recognize the voice. She hadn’t noticed her caller by the time Elizabeth had looked up. She’d gone a little white to see Janice, Owen’s green haired cousin waving. The blue haired girl at her side crinkled her nose vibrating her stupid septum ring. Fucking cow!

“Hey!” Janice walked right over and hopped into the chair next to Elizabeth.

“Hi.” Roxxi was guarded when she added her greeting. Elizabeth pursed her lips. She didn’t have to be nice here. This wasn’t work. She couldn’t get fired. Being a bitch to her regulars would chase her right back to the restaurant. She held her tongue.

“I’ve never seen you in here before.” Janice said, she saw the two capped coffees on their little table. The fresh pastry on the small plate struck her nose. “I recognize that order. Meeting Darlene?”

“She should be here in a few minutes.” Elizabeth said.

“Interesting.” Janice said. “How’re you doing?”

“How am I doing!” She lunged forward and hissed. “You know what he did to me!”

“Yeah, I watched. I might get to watch next time too.” Janice shrugged. “Remember Tamara?”

“Your name’s Tamara?” Elizabeth turned to the blue haired hate lightning rod. Janice snorted laughing. Roxxi closed her hands in fists on her thighs. She looked to Janice but the green haired girl smirked and shook her head no.

“Oh my God! No,” Janice giggled, “This one’s Darlene’s fault. Not important. I was kinda hoping to talk to you about something.” The barista behind the counter, a scruffy thirty-something pothead with bad posture robbing him of his basketball player’s height, waved Janice to the employees only door. “But, if I’m stuck with this one. I might as well have her helping with rent.”

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