Chapter 25

First out of the limo was Amara, then followed by Mom, Laura, Elsa, Elsie, Emily, Lacey, and finally, Pip. A few of the restaurant’s other guests were looking out the window at the arrival of our party. As each girl emerged from within the limo, I sensed some measure of interest, curiosity, and even jealousy that grew as they came into view. The limo itself was nothing new to the restaurant’s usual clientele; I would bet that the car park was full of Maybachs and Rolls-Royces, and a number of chauffeurs to boot. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place you turn up to in an Uber driver’s Ford Fiesta.

Instead, it was the swarm of beautiful women that stepped out of the limo that drew all the attention from any onlookers. I linked arms with Amara and my mother, and we led the way inside, passing a pair of smartly dressed doormen, both of whom struggled to avoid staring.

Neither could resist the urge to check out the girls as we paraded past them, failing miserably in their attempts to be discreet as they took in eyefuls of cleavage and a host of shapely butts.

I heard one mutter, “Lucky bastard,” under his breath after we had passed. It would have normally been too quiet to hear, but my senses have improved nearly as much as the rest of my body had.

“Must be extremely rich,” the other replied.

“Eating here, he is. I’d have to sell my house just for a starter,” he laughed.

The guy staffing the front desk maintained slightly more composure than his younger colleagues, but similar thoughts ran through his head, and his eyes were unable to resist straying.

“Uhhh, hi- I mean, Welcome to the Gilded Stag. In whose name is the reservation?” he asked, trying but failing to maintain eye contact with me.

Using the same voice commands I had used to book the restaurant I visited with my mother, I had made a call earlier to place the reservation. The waiting list for a table at this place was supposedly over a year long, and even then, you probably still wouldn’t get one. They only catered to a very exclusive group of wealthy and influential patrons; the kind of people who you’d expect to own private jets and large yachts.

Most restaurants like this always kept a few tables in reserve on the off chance a celebrity or other person of interest turns up unannounced. The owners wanted the prestige of being able to claim that said star dined there. They would even ask them to sign a menu, some of which were displayed on the wall alongside a photo of the celebrity with the restaurant’s owner. I recognised a few actors and even a member of the Royal Family in the framed pictures hung by the entrance.

The other diners all wore finely made, expensive, tailored suits and designer dresses, with enough jewellery to buy a modest house. Despite all of that, every eye in the place turned to follow us, or more accurately, the girls, as we were led to our table in a secluded corner of the room.

I sat at the head of the table with Amara to my right and my mother to my left. Laura and the twins followed my mother while Emily, Lacey, and Pip sat opposite. The curved half-wall partition shielded our table from the view of the rest of the restaurant, but I was still able to physically and mentally hear that our entrance was suddenly the most interesting topic of conversation.

“Who do you think he is?”

“Did you see all those girls, though? Most of them don’t even look old enough to drink.”

“Is he here with all of those girls?”

“Do you think one of them is famous? Which one? The guy, or maybe the tall older blonde...”

“They might be family. Those twins and the older woman certainly look related.”

I listened in on multiple conversions at once. Amara had mentioned when we bonded that my brain’s efficiency and capabilities would improve, similar to how my body had over the past two weeks. It was a common misconception that we only use 10% of our brains, but that was nothing more than an old wives’ tale. However, we don’t nearly use it to its full potential. The bonding process, and probably my first wish as well, had increased my brain’s potential “power” for lack of a better word. If we were all computers, everyone else would be running on an i3 processor, while I had just been upgraded to an i9.

Besides the wild speculation and jealousy I was privy to, what caught my attention were the surprising number of perverted thoughts from various men and even a few of the women. I didn’t feel the need to tell my women how lewdly some men had undressed them with their eyes. Then again, they were probably used to it.

I was slightly amused when I heard several wives scolding their husbands for ogling other women. While most of the women chastised their men’s wayward gazes, I picked out one couple quietly discussing which of the girls they would rather invite to join them. While happily married, they often invited other women into their bed. The man, in his early 40’s was captivated by the idea of bedding the twins while his wife, who was about ten years his junior, favoured Emily. While I was a little jealous, and protective, over his thoughts towards my little sisters, I couldn’t exactly blame him. No straight man in his right mind could resist the twins if the opportunity to bed them ever presented itself. When Elsa jumped into bed with me, my resistance lasted all of about 15 seconds.

I took a second to stop listening to my surroundings, as I wanted to enjoy an evening out with my beautiful harem without any unnecessary distractions. I tuned out the conversations and thoughts of the other guests and instead focused on just our secluded corner of the restaurant.

There were three waiters assigned to our table. One man, who seemed to be in charge of our table, the head waiter I assumed, and a younger man and woman. The younger pair split responsibility for taking care of our food, and drinks, respectively.

My mother, Laura, and Emily all ordered a glass of wine to go with our meal. I had no taste for alcohol myself, not that it mattered, as I was underage. Even though I could just use my power to bypass that, I was not interested in doing so. The food menu surprised me, as the dishes all had no prices. I guess if you can afford to eat here, you don’t need to worry about the cost. If our finances worked out as I hoped they would, I suspect I wouldn’t be concerned with prices from time to time.

I must say, I could get accustomed to living like this; the food was amazing, and so was the service. My beautiful family and loving harem kept me in the best company. It was a wonderful evening, even better than I expected. It was all just so effortless, so natural. We talked, laughed, ate, and drank for a few hours, forgetting about the rest of the world. We were happily sequestered in our own little bubble, enjoying our night.

I was happy to find that without the sex, we still felt like a big extended family. There was more to our relationships than just the lust that we shared for each other. There was also maternal, fraternal, sororal, and romantic love that made us more than just a master and his harem of sex slaves. We were a family. An unconventional one, far from traditional, but a family nonetheless.

As the delightful evening came to a close, and our deserts were cleared away, I was perfectly content. There was nothing wrong at this moment; everything was as it should be. As my women talked amongst themselves, my thoughts returned to my earlier musings. It was crazy to think just how much my life had changed so quickly. I was aware of how much it would continue to change, and while the details and degree of those changes were yet unknown, I wasn’t worried. I was still new to this new life, and still had three whole wishes left. Just how much more could my life change? With the existence of magic, genies, and even demons being revealed, my whole world had been turned on its head.

I realised thinking about it too much was a rabbit hole that would be all too easy to lose myself in. I decided it was better to let things happen and enjoy my new life as it came. Of more immediate concern, was how easy it would be to get used to this ‘posh’ lifestyle. I definitely wanted to stay grounded in the realities of an average daily life. I didn’t want to take experiences like tonight for granted.

When I was handed the cheque, I initially baulked at the price. I had known it would be expensive, and even though the food had been absolutely fantastic, the bill was crazy. Like the menu, it didn’t provide individual prices; just a list of the food and drinks ordered, with a total at the bottom. £12,357!

Twelve grand. Twelve fucking grand for one night out! The money wasn’t the problem, as we had plenty. It was more just the shock that the restaurant dared to charge so much, and equally shocking that people fought to get reservations over a year in advance to pay so much. Sure, the food was exceptional, but twelve grand?! Maybe I wasn’t so suited to this high society lifestyle after all. I just could not comprehend that there were people who thought these prices were reasonable. I could only assume that it was a way to filter their clientele, and a way to flaunt one’s wealth.

Being in charge of all finances, as the harem mother, my mother paid the bill. She even left an overly generous tip. At twelve grand, you would think the service charge was included. Still, I didn’t linger on it, lest allow it to sour an otherwise perfect night. It wasn’t like we were hurting for money. My mother’s investment portfolio and savings account were impressive enough. Given that we had lived simply, in a modest home, it had been able to grow well into seven figures. I planned on seeing if she would add me to her accounts, so I could get things for my harem without always having to ask my Mom for some money. Plus, with the very generous dowry Pip’s father had handed us, we were sitting pretty.

Our driver had been called by the staff and was already waiting for us when we stepped out the door. The ride home was much calmer than the energetic drive in. Each of the girls was with their partner within the harem. I was glad that these pairings had developed, the girls helping to meet each other’s emotional and sexual needs. I hoped such pairings or threesomes would continue to grow as additional members were added to the harem. After all, even with my near limitless stamina, I can only be in one place at a time.

Laura was sitting in my mother’s lap, their heads resting against each other, with my mother’s arms holding her lover close. I could see in Mom’s eyes she was in love, and Laura was too. Seeing me look at them, mom smiled at me. I was happy for her, and Laura, too.

The twins sat on either side of Emily, their heads resting on her shoulders, Emily’s head slumped over onto Elsie’s. They looked so sweet and innocent; you’d never guess that they were such insatiable sluts. Sometimes, when I had my cock so far up inside them that it bulged their stomachs out, or had just finished painting them with cum, it was easy to forget that they were only fourteen. If not for their growing breasts, their petite size could easily make them seem even younger.

Pip and Lacey sat together in a shadowy corner, slowly and softly making out, occasionally stopping to whisper sweet nothings to each other. I didn’t eavesdrop, but they seemed pretty taken with each other. Lacey might fit in with the harem life better than I had thought. I wasn’t surprised she gravitated towards Pip. The confident, openly bi-sexual girl would be a good match for Lacey. She could help her accept and explore her sexuality; something she had been shunned for at her last boarding school.

The more time Lacey spent with us, the more I felt she was a perfect fit to join my harem. Not just for mine or my girl’s sexual satisfaction, but to benefit Lacey herself. She deserved to be loved and given the emotional support and reassurance she had been denied for so long. She should be in a group of people who not only wouldn’t judge her for being herself, but would celebrate her.

I decided that I wouldn’t push Lacey and Pip any closer together. Instead, I would allow their relationship to evolve naturally, and only exert any influence if they needed the help.

I simply sat cuddled up with Amara. Our hands interlocked, with her head against my shoulder. She sighed contentedly as she snuggled against me while I placed a soft kiss onto the top of her head, inhaling her soft, exotic scent. I would miss her tremendously when she eventually returned to the djinn’s home world. In the meantime, I would live each day with her as fully as possible.

Despite their earlier enthusiasm, not all the girls had fully recovered from powering my wish the night prior. Their energy had increasingly dropped after our meal had concluded, and I couldn’t blame them. They had all eaten a large meal, and had probably had more sex last that day than most people have in months, possibly even years.

With everyone happily dozing in a food-coma, the drive back to the hotel seemed quicker than the drive out, and before long we pulled up outside the hotel. As gently as I could I roused the various girls who had nodded off.

“Come on girls, we’re back at the hotel.” I said, trying to motivate the twins who were the final stragglers.

“Only if you carry me,” Elsa said with yawn, as she stepped out onto the pavement, holding her arms out like a child might while demanding ‘Up! Up!’

“No, carry me,” Elsie chimed in with the same tone as she joined her sister outside the limo.

In an effort to avoid playing favorites, I slung a twin over each shoulder. Elsa on the right, Elsie on the left. Walking through the hotel lobby with a pair of girls over my shoulders earned me more than a few odd looks from the staff at the front desk as I carried the giggling twins across the lobby.

“Noooo! Carry us all the way” they both protested when I put them down at the entrance to our lift.

Glancing at my watch, I saw it was a bit past 10:30. I wanted to relax and call it a night, like the rest of my harem were going to do, but I had one last item on my to-do list.

“Maybe next time. Go with Mom and the girls” I said with my best responsible older brother voice.

They pouted adorably but didn’t protest as Mom hustled them along.

I kissed all my girls goodnight and promised Amara I would be quick. While they headed up to our room in our private elevator, I took the main one from the lobby to the floor where Lacey and her father were staying.

This floor contained six rooms, occupying the same combined space of the two penthouse suites. I cast my mind out into the suite Lacey shared with her father and confirmed he was inside. I could feel his displeasure and aggravation at Lacey’s disobedience, having found her to be absent after telling her to stay in their room.

I knocked sharply on the door, the sudden noise rousing him from his brooding thoughts, and he grumbled to himself as he approached the door.

“Where the hell have...” he said before he realised it wasn’t his daughter at his door, knocking after losing her key, as he initially assumed.

He had broad shoulders and was slightly shorter than my new height of 6”2’. He was clean-shaven, with short, dark hair, and wore a crisp white shirt, with his tie hanging loose around his neck. The bubble above his head read ‘James Hanson, 41’.

“Please, let’s go inside and sit down. We need to talk,” I told him in a firm voice that was more a request than a demand.

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are-” he replied, his voice rising in annoyance.

“I said sit down,” I repeated forcefully, with a bit of power in my voice, as my eyes locked onto his.

It was slightly too much power though, as he instantly dropped to the floor right there in the doorway.

Idiot.

Once I had gotten him off the floor and moved us inside, and with him now sitting in an actual chair, I cut straight to the point of my visit. I was impatient for this to be over with; the allure of Amara waiting for me upstairs, was pushing me to wrap this up quickly. It took a lot of discipline to slow myself down, and avoid making any hasty decisions.

I looked into his mind, rather than bother with the formality of an actual conversation, going back in his memories to before his wife died. For the most part, I found that it was much the same as what I had learned from Lacey. As I already knew most of this, I fast-forwarded to the day his wife died. In my mind’s eye, I saw him sitting at his desk reviewing a weekly sales report, when his phone rang. I listened to the conversation with interest.

“Hello?”

“Hello Sir, is this the father of Lacey Johnson?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Hello, Mr. Johnson. This is Headmaster Mary June from Weston Secondary. I’m calling today to inform you that your daughter has been involved in a fight. We are going to need you to come to the school and pick her up.” The voice on the other end of the phone said.

He sat up straighter in his desk chair.

“Well, is she okay?”

“She’s fine. The school nurse checked her over. She has just a slight scratch on her cheek, but it’s school policy that any student involved in a fight must be sent home.”

James turned slightly in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll call my wife and let her know. I’ve got a deadline I need to meet at work,” he told the headmaster.

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I will expect her shortly,” she said in a cold, terse tone.

Hanging up, he pulled his contact list and rang up his wife. After a brief exchange, he hung up. Interestingly, as I watched this memory, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt attached to it.

When I had examined Lacey’s memory, she felt that her mother being killed in the accident was her fault for getting in that fight in the first place, and that her father blamed her for what happened. However, her father’s memory showed he blamed himself for sending his wife to pick up their daughter when it was him the school had called first. He was experiencing survivor’s guilt every bit as much as his daughter was.

He had never blamed his daughter, only himself. Part of the reason he avoided his daughter was because he didn’t want her to blame him too. Whenever he thought about how his wife had died, he always thought ‘it should have been me instead’. Every time he saw his daughter, who looked so much like her mother, he was reminded of that guilt.

Mom was right. There was more to this than what first met the eye, which is why she had cautioned me to proceed carefully. I continued to look through his memories to discover the cause behind his abandonment of Lacey. He had never gotten over the feeling that he was the reason his wife had died, and to this day, had not afforded himself the chance to properly grieve.

He had tried to cut everything that reminded him of his wife from his life. He threw himself into his work, hoping that focusing solely on his career wouldn’t allow him to think of anything else, particularly the gaping hole in his life left by his wife’s death.

He had put away all the pictures of his wife, but what affected him most was his daughter. Everything about Lacey reminded him of his wife; her looks, her voice, even her mannerisms. He couldn’t so much as be in the same room as his daughter without being reminded of his wife, and the guilt he felt. So he cut her out too, trying to save himself from being haunted by the memory of his wife.

All of the hostility and abandonment Lacey suffered, had been because he refused to accept what had happened as not being his or Lacey’s fault. The lorry driver was squarely at fault for the crash, but that was of no comfort to the grieving family left behind.

His misplaced survivor’s guilt added an overwhelming sense of responsibility for letting his daughter down by depriving her of her mother. Here again, sending her away was his method of repressing this misplaced guilt, unknowingly hurting Lacey in the process.

The more I saw, the more I became convinced that Amara and Mom were right; Lacey should join my harem. Even if I tried to help him along, her father would be in no position to provide Lacey with the home life she needed. He had pushed so hard to avoid accepting what happened that he had cut out those emotions completely. My mother’s had been repressed and buried deeply, but had still been there, locked away inside until I released them. But Lacey’s father had cut them out and thrown them away entirely.

I feared that forcing him to accept what had happened would send him into a downward spiral of grief and self-destruction. Such a spiral would hurt not only him, but those around him, namely Lacey. No, for him to ever truly have any chance of redemption, it would be something he needed to do of his own volition. Even then, I’m not sure the rift that had grown between him and his daughter could be fully mended.

Reading his mind, I was confident that he had loved his daughter, but he hadn’t allowed himself to feel that love for a long time. It hurt him too much to feel it. With everything that had transpired between him and Lacey, their relationship would never be the same as it was before, even if they mended things in the future. It was a disappointing, in not entirely unexpected, conclusion.

That said, I did implant a few suggestions into his mind.

The first was to accept that Lacey would be coming to live with me and my harem. It didn’t take much power for him to accept that one, because he was so used to sending her away to live at boarding schools. Second, I planted the idea that ‘maybe he wasn’t okay’ deep in his psyche. Deep enough that there would be no immediate effect, but not so deep that he would never reach it. Hopefully, with this idea in the back of his mind, he could start himself down a proper road to recovery, and actually confront the loss of his wife eventually. Lastly, I made sure that whenever he did eventually reach that point, he would be sure to seek professional help. I may have mind-reading and mind-controlling powers, but I was definitely no Shrink.

When I had first met Lacey, my first impression had been of a stuck-up rich girl who would be a fun way to kill some time and recover some sexual energy. I had initially interpreted her behaviour as just a way to disobey her father with the added excitement of some fun between the sheets.

However, after we had finished having sex, and when I dug a little deeper into her personality, I saw it was all just a façade. In reality, she was a very vulnerable girl in need of emotional support and stability. For a short time, she’d had her newfound lesbian friends to provide her with a level of warmth, tenderness, and a sense of intimacy. In them, she found the compassion that her father had denied her.

That, unfortunately, all came to an abrupt end at the hands of the girls at her third boarding school. Through their mockery and exclusion of Lacey, they made her feel even more abandoned and alone than before.

Her whole situation saddened me; she deserved so much more than the crummy hand life had dealt her. I saw her dream of one day finding the right guy, or girl, who would give her the love and support she desired. She hoped that her Prince, or Princess, Charming would understand and accept her, and everything about who she was.

Amara was correct in her assessment that Lacey would fit nicely into my growing harem of women, and that being a part of it would fulfil many of her needs, both emotional and sexual. As a harem member, I knew that Lacey would receive all the love and support she could ever need. She was missing a family in her life right now, and I knew that my growing harem could be that family.

I felt that I had handled the situation with Lacey’s father as best I could, given the circumstances. While not perfect, it achieved a beneficial outcome for everyone involved. If Lacey had continued to stick to her bratty, rich-girl persona, I might have pushed harder for a different resolution. However, during the short amount of time she had been with me and my girls, she was almost an entirely different person. She was getting back to being the sweet girl she had been when her mother was still alive. After collecting Lacey’s suitcases from the second bedroom, I said goodbye to Lacey’s father, and headed back to the lifts, looking forward to sliding into Amara’s arms.

Amara and I shared the master suite in the main penthouse suite, while my mother and Laura had claimed master bedroom in the second apartment across the hall. The rest of the girls took the smaller rooms in the main suite. The twins, always inseparable, took the one next to the master bedroom, and I was surprised to see Emily had joined them. After my mother’s dominance over Emily, I had assumed she would be joining Mom and Laura in bed. Maybe she wanted to let the two women focus on each other for tonight.

So far, all of the pairings I had seen Emily engaging in seemed like they were only temporary. With Emily’s love of hardcore domination, pain, and humiliation, it would take a special kind of girl to match her. I doubt even my mother could fully satisfy her needs. I had a feeling that there was someone else out there who would be perfect for her. I would have to keep an eye out a girl like that.

Pip and Lacey were sharing a bedroom, which I wasn’t surprised by, after seeing them grow closer to each other throughout the evening. Pip was good for Lacey, breaking down the barriers she had built around herself, as well as helping her cast aside the stuck-up, rich girl persona she had created. Both were coping mechanisms that she would hopefully grow out of needing, now that she had us.

Amara was waiting for me in the main suite’s lounge. I kissed her and took her hand.

“Come, my love. Let’s go to bed” I said, knowing full well that we wouldn’t be sleeping for quite some time.

I led her to our bedroom, thinking that after last night’s orgy, and spending the day with my girls, I was looking forward to some one-on-one time with my sex-genie girlfriend. With the door closed behind us, Amara pulled her thick locks of hair over one shoulder and turned her shapely backside to me.

“Unzip me?” she asked, referring to the concealed zip that ran down her back.

I knew she had the flexibility to do it herself, or could use her powers to simply “phase” out of her dress. Instead, she chose to go down the more intimate and sensual route of having me undress her. Disrobing a lover was more for the titillation and foreplay than anything else. There’s something incredibly sexy about a guy unzipping a girl’s dress, and watching as it falls from her body, or slowly peeling her out of her clothes, piece by piece. Savouring every inch of her body as it was exposed anew.

I placed my hand on her right hip as I moved up behind her and leisurely pulled down the zipper. I ran a finger back up the bare skin along her spine, sending shivers down her entire body. Amara let out a soft purr as I caressed her skin.

I kissed her neck, left bare on one side after she had pulled her hair aside to allow me access to the zipper. A moan escaped her lips as I kissed and caressed her neck. I lightly kissed her smooth shoulders, gently sliding the now loosened lace of her dress off her shoulders.

“Hmmm, oh Thor,”

Like a rippling waterfall of white lace, her dress cascaded down over the curves of her flawless body to pool around her feet. Those same dainty feet had been my first view of her. My eyes then traveled back up her body, starting from her feet. My eyes feasted upon her delicious curves, marvelling once again at every millimetre of her perfection and her beautiful golden, tanned skin. Every inch of her skin was more vibrant and smooth than any airbrushed celebrity or model. I doubted if any great artist or skilled photographer could fully capture her beauty or raw sensuality.

I stood close against Amara’s now nude form, my front to her back. I continued my soft kisses along her neck, gradually moving higher towards her jaw. My fingers feathered gentle caresses across her skin. They travelled across her shapely back, arms, stomach, hips, perfect breasts, and her firm and curvy butt, all the while avoiding her hot, moist pussy. This exploration with my hands was more about the sensual skin-on-skin contact with my lover than sexual gratification. It was an expression, and affirmation of, our love for each other.

My lover leaned back into me as I held her close. My lips found their way to hers to share a tender, lingering, passionate kiss. I pulled her tighter against me, wanting to hold her and never let her go. As my hands rested on her warm, soft skin, she placed her own delicate hands over mine. Our left hands crossed her taut stomach to rest just above her right hip. Our right hands crossed over her chest to rest just above the upper slopes of her large breasts.

I could feel her heart beating in her chest, the thundering notes counting out the moments we stood together. Its elevated rate gave evidence of the effect that my touch had on her. I moved my lips to her ear, laying a kiss on the sensitive area just behind it, before whispering into her ear,

“You are my love,” followed by another series of kisses as I continued, “My queen, my one and only, my one true love, forever and always.”