The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Zelda Fairman — Wednesday, June 17th, 2015

I parked my little Toyota at the gas station and walked the two blocks up Inglis street to Harriet’s apartment. I’d been ticketed for doing this once before but only because I had left the car there until the morning. I totally could have walked from home. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t drink and sleep it off on her terrible sofa. I had a grocery bag full of unhealthy snacks and diet Pepsi. I walked the half a block up the street to her home. Her apartment, as always, was unlocked.

She lived on the first floor of a skinny little house. I could hear the video games of the three stoners who lived above her from the anteroom but that all disappeared when I closed Harriet’s door behind me. She was in her pjs stretched out on a big mauve sofa watching Star Trek Voyager reruns on her miniscule flat screen. I announced myself by lumping the bag of snacks on her kitchenette counter.

“Oh, hi, Zelda,” She lifted herself up and smiled at me, “I forgot you were coming over tonight.”

“I figured you owed me for that bust night at your fuck buddy’s place,” I told her. I opened her fridge and pulled out a couple containers of onion dip until I found one who’s smell didn’t compel me to throw it in the trash.

“I’ve never fucked Craps,” Harriet shook her head, “Never will. I made out with him once and he was a complete jackass about it. His friends are pretty cool though.”

“I don’t believe cool is a word that’d describe any of them,” I proceeded to carry the snacks over to her tiny coffee table. I then dropped straight back onto her couch. She just managed to pull her ankles out from where my butt was going.

“Nah, they’re all pretty great,” Harriet disagreed. She had muted her episode but the subtitles were still running and she was reading those rather than looking at me, “I was kind of hoping I could get you to give Matty the fucking he’s needed for years. But you did hit it off with Joe, right?”

“Sort of,” I pulled open a bag of Lay’s, “I don’t think your constant emasculating helped much though.”

“Hey, I quit as soon as Matthew showed up with that amazon!” Harriet snatched the dip tub before I could do anything with the chips in my fingers. She proceeded to selfishly hoard the tub. I was prepared to fight her for it.

“Yeah, but I think the damage was done,” I sighed and shifted over until I was half on top of her to get access to the dip, “He was closed up the rest of the night.”

“He’s always like that,” Harriet pushed me off and returned the tub to the table with an eye roll.

“If I had wanted to get laid, it would have best to just go after Craps,” I pointed out.

“He’d treat you like shit,” Harriet explained, “And I mean some girls like that but I don’t like watching great chicks treated like that.”

“So, if Matthew’s been needing a fuck as hard as you say, what’s been stopping you?” I looked at the two liter of diet Pepsi and swore.

“Cupboard next to the fridge,” She pointed before answering, “I have to see Craps at school pretty much all the time. I know I won’t like him if I fuck him and I can only imagine how shitty he’d be if I started in on his friends instead of him.”

“Then why hang around with them at all?”

“Because if sex isn’t on the table they’re the most fun friends I’ve had in my life,” Harriet explained, “I can be as girly or as tomboyish or as salty or as snappish as I like and all I get back is caring and humor. Joseph would walk into fire for any of his friends, including me. Malcolm is one of the funniest guys I’ve met. Victor’s the biggest most harmless happily married flirt on the planet. Matthew gives a shit when I’m having a shit time. Craps and I are the most virulently opposed sci-fi fans that aren’t calling people Hitler on the internet. They’re just good people.”

“Sounds like they’re all the perfect boyfriend,” I said putting a couple of high balls on the table.

“Yeah, I just need someone to shove my head into a pillow and fuck me into a twisted mess,” She laughed.

“I hope that isn’t why you invited me over,” I smiled, “I much prefer to be the one mashed into the pillow.”

“Yeah, you don’t have the upper body strength I need anyways,” She said. I’ve been friends with Harriet for about two years now and I could never discern her sarcasm from her honesty.

“So what are we going to do tonight?”

“Well since you didn’t get his cock, I’m going to bestow to you what Matthew did me the first time I hung out at his place,” She reached for her XBox controller and shut down Voyager.

“And what is that?”

“I’m going to force you to watch Farscape,” She grinned.

“It’s not going to stop abruptly like when you made me watch Firefly is it?” I jabbed her with a finger. She retaliated with a throw pillow face smack.

“Oh it was absolutely cancelled prematurely,” She grinned, “You’re going to love it.”

Dawn Rhodes — Thursday, June 18th, 2015

My everything was sore. I had had more sex since yesterday than I had ever had in my life. I was trying not to wake up when Sara rocked my shoulder. The words “good morning” were pushed back down my throat when she shushed me and nodded to Matthew’s lightly snoring form. I kept quiet and looked away. I felt queasy.

We were all still naked. The stickiness on my thighs had congealed into a clammy mess. Sara passed me a glass of water. I thanked her and drank it quickly. She took the glass. I followed her to the kitchenette.

“How do you feel?” Sara asked me.

“Good,” I lied because I wasn’t about to tell this bright eyed fanatic that I was terrified. The bracelet on my wrist weighed a ton.

“I’m glad we found you,” She stroked my arm. Her pussy tasted buttery. I didn’t want to know that. I didn’t want to know buttery was a possible adjective for vagina flavor. I looked back over to Matthew. He was snoring obliviously.

“So what happens now?”

“You can get a shower if you like,” Sara shrugged not thinking as far ahead as I was, “By yourself this time. I’d join you but I think Matthew would like someone to be with him when he wakes up.”

“Yeah,” I scratched inside my thigh, “I feel gross.”

“A slut shouldn’t be gross,” Sara explained. I wasn’t sure I wanted the shower anymore. Rebel against the man and be gross. Only, I wasn’t rebelling against the man but the woman. For how intimidating Sara had been, Matthew had been sweet. I was hoping I’d love Matthew soon. It would make this easier.

I walked to the washroom and locked the door behind me. I leaned my back against it for a few minutes. I didn’t hyperventilate and I wiped away the few tears I had shed. I was OK. I was fucked. I was happy. Realizing I was happy made me all that more scared. I stood up and avoided looking in the mirror. I reached for the bracelet and pulled it off. My heart started hammering. I put it on the lip of the sink and climbed into the shower.

I pulled the curtain closed and started the shower, quickly adjusting the water from chilly to hot. I washed myself. I smelled the three different shampoos for a favorite. I conditioned my hair. I washed my vagina. I was still raw and sore from yesterday. I just stood under the shower for five minutes slowly making it hotter until I couldn’t turn it up anymore. I washed and rinsed again. I rubbed my fingers over my bare lips. They tingled but I liked it. I liked being clean and shaved.

I turned off the water. There were towels on the rack, yesterday’s but I managed. There was a hairbrush on the sink and I sat on the toilet while I stroked out my hair. I flushed when I stood up and finally looked in the mirror. The fog was peeling away from the edges but my face was still obscured. I picked an elastic out from the medicine cabinet and pulled my hair into a loose ponytail. I wiped away the fog.

I looked good. I looked fine. I let myself feel good. I pulled the bangs out from my ponytail and brushed them to frame my face. I took a deep breath and headed back out into the apartment, mostly dry and still nude except for the bracelet.

Matthew’s snoring was still soldiering on as I walked out. Sara was sitting in the armchair, matching my dress code. I walked across the room, trying to be silent as I headed for my red backpack. Matthew snorted and stretched. I stopped and waved to Sara to sit back down. I licked my lips and climbed on the bed, straddling over Matthew’s blanketed legs while he dreamily awoke.

“Good morning,” He yawned. His morning breath was fierce and I licked around my mouth worried about my own. I hadn’t brushed my teeth in there. I should have but—He pulled me in and kissed me. We saw the looks on each other’s faces. I laughed a heartbeat after he did.

“Good morning, Wizard,” I knew he preferred Matthew but he liked Wizard. He ran his fingers through my ponytail.

“You feeling good?”

“I’m feeling great,” And I was feeling much better now that Sara wasn’t in my line of sight.

“You up for giving me a blowjob?” He was being hopeful. He expected that I could deny him. He didn’t get it. I smiled. He was an idiot. He reached between us and rubbed his morning erection.

“I’ve never done it before,” I could feel how red I was blushing. I hadn’t been a virgin last night but a drunk prom date and dad’s married golfing buddy aren’t the best list of former boyfriends. He kissed me again and neither of us flinched this time. I smiled. Sara remained quiet in her seat. Good, I didn’t want her advice or lectures. I licked my lips. He liked that. I was just nervous. I scooted down over his feet and peeled the comforter down over his body. I felt a little bold and leaned in to lick his nipples as I dragged the blankets to his knees. He watched me, lacing his fingers behind his head. I brushed the hairs out of my face and grinned up at him and then I was over his cock.

Penises look weird. I don’t think that’s a controversial point of view. I slipped my fingers over and around him as I had last night. I had used my hand and my sex but only Sara had used her mouth. I stroked up and down, looking up to see Matthew looking down eagerly at me. I looked back to his dick. I could fit a little under half of the shaft in my hand. A stiff tube with prominent veins that I dragged my hand dryly over.

“Lube?” I asked as the idea scrambled to the forefront of my brain.

“I don’t need it,” He grinned, “And you can hold me a little tighter.”

“What? Really?”

“Really,” He was about to laugh. I hadn’t been tentative. I hadn’t thought I was. Sex had been hard last night; I knew that his thing could take and give a pounding. Harder? Jeez. I was rolling my wrist as I stroked him up and down. I squeezed the red and purple head and dragged the foreskin back before reaching the base and riding it back up again. The underside, which was face up to my tits at this point, was a different kind of soft than the rest of him. The outside of his cock was pliant wrapped around stiff hard core. Penises didn’t only look weird. “There’s another important component to a great blowjob.”

“Sorry?” I looked up and he was almost snickering. He grabbed me by the base of my ponytail and dragged me up from his ribs for a kiss. I sighed when he let me go. He was a good kisser. I was feeling wet myself. I had to be certain not to signal that to Sara or she’d be behind me and I’d be the meat of another sandwich. Our kiss was broken and I looked into his bright blue eyes. He looked a bit sleep deprived without his glasses. He flicked his eyes downward and I looked down to see my hand running up and down his cock. He flashed his eyes down again. I smiled pecked his lips and slipped back down his body.

He wasn’t the kind of boy I’d have looked twice at. His belly was padded and his chest was hairy. He had strong hands, one teasing the bangs from my face and the other guiding me to his dick by my shoulder. A blowjob. I can do this.

“She has really pretty eyes,” I glanced to the left to see Sara leaning against the head of the bed. I retreated from her. His smile said that Matthew agreed with her. I made certain to look right at him. His cock was starting to weep precum when my lips were near enough to touch him. He shuddered. My breath was rolling over him as my hand just kept pumping. My elbow started to feel sore. I closed my eyes as I kissed him. The bitter flavor stuck to my lips as I took him in my mouth. Instinct told me to engulf the cock. That plan died immediately. He held my head in one hand and I could feel small amounts of resistance as I pulled my throat back from him.

I coughed and sputtered while he brushed my hair from my face. He was laughing, and I felt self conscious. I blushed again partly out of frustration. This time I didn’t try to take all of him. I focused on the head. My lips settling around the bump of his foreskin. I looked up and he was letting his eyes drift shut. I flicked over to Sara and she gave me an encouraging nod. I brought my tongue against his head and he let out along appreciative breath.

I acted boldly, just not as stupidly as I did when I tried to pull him all on my mouth that first time. He really liked when I rocked my tongue back and forth under the head. I kept a tight grip and jacked him hard. The ring of my fist punched my lips a few times before I got my rhythm how I wanted it. I sucked and blew, searching and listening for what made him happy. Soon, he slipped a hand into my hair. He pushed me down just a little further, so I started rocking. Dragging my lips tightly back and forth over his foreskin. He was taking deep breaths and massaging my scalp. He was petting me. I was rolling my head side to side with the circuit of my tongue. More cum beaded and was dragged across my tongue. He was still bitter but with a hint of sweet. I was going with some speed now and my shoulders, my neck and my wrist were getting a little sore. I tightly grabbed the bed sheets. His hand in my hair dropped my bangs to curtain off the view of his face. I still looked up.

“Holy shit...” He moaned and I braced myself but he wasn’t quite ready yet. I think interrupting my momentum gave him a little cool down because it took a few moments before he was making those moans again. He just cursed. Shits and fucks accompanied by holies, yeahs, and pleases. I started licking past my lower lip and he started pushing and pulling a bit more insistently on my hair. I didn’t want to misjudge again and so I wasn’t prepared.

I remember coughing and pulling off before I remember feeling the spit and spatter in my throat. His cock left my mouth drooling more cum. My spit and his release dripped over my chin. My eyes were flooded with tears from the choking and I was trying to shake my head and stop coughing and neither was working according to plan. He shifted under me and I nearly fell off my legs as he dragged me up onto his now upright chest. He brushed my hair, the tips of my bangs soiled with sex and saliva.

“Hey, that was really good,” He said patting my back as I cooled off.

“Yeah?” He softly thumbed the tears from my left eye.

“Yeah.” I retreated a heartbeat before he kissed me. He was smiling. Before and after. We had needed to brush our teeth before the blowjob. I took a deep breath and smiled.

“Did we pick up any Scope?” I said as the blush rolled down from my cheeks to the bottom of my throat.

“There’s a bottle on the sink,” I jumped to be reminded that Sara sat at the edge of the bed. I bolted. Sara climbed up and hugged Matthew while I caught my breath at the sink. Mouthwash was circling the sink drain when Matthew stood next to me. I brushed my teeth next to him. I felt more naked than I had since this began. He smiled around the toothbrush he had just unpackaged. I smiled back, legitimately after he bumped my shoulder. He mussed up my hair and proceeded into the shower. Was I supposed to join him? No, I decided for myself to go out and get dressed. I passed Sara at the door and was happy when I had closed the bathroom door behind me.

“Do you have clean clothes?” Sara asked me. She was stripping off the bed, which really needed it.

“Uh?” The clothes in my bookbag amounted to everything I owned. “A pair of panties?”

“You’re a bit too tall for my pants but our hips and waist seem OK. You can try a skirt from the closet.

“Uh, thanks,” I said. I was about to rescind that after I looked into her closet. Sara owned more rubber and latex clothes than I had ever owned clothes. The reasonable stuff was all packed in the left ten percent of the closet. I picked through some of the blouses and shirts and realized nothing was my size. I bent down to pick through the plastic drawers that held her off hanger clothes. I shrieked and fell forward when Matthew materialized and slapped my butt.

“Hey, are you OK?”

“I’m alright.” I twisted around and sat on the hardwood. I looked up to him and he was offering his hand. I was pulled to my feet.

“She doesn’t have any clean clothes,” Sara explained, “I was going to lend her some of mine.”

“And you’re going to get a wash done?” He looked over to see her pushing the sheets into a laundry bag.

“Unless you had other plans,” Sara nodded.

“I want to get breakfast.” He explained, “What do you two want to eat?”

“Waffles?” I suggested as he squeezed my shoulder. I really would like to get dressed actually.

“Waffles sounds good,” He announced, “Sara, I’m going to get Dawn dressed and then we’re going to my apartment so I can get dressed as well. Tidy up a little here but don’t start the laundry and we’ll go get breakfast.”

“Will do, Wizard,” She beamed and saluted and went back to what she was doing.

“I’m going to need one of my shirts,” I told Matthew and he walked over to my bookbag. I knelt down instead of bending at the waist this time. I was thrilled. I liked Matthew. He wasn’t the kind of guy I had ever considered before and I still saw him as old. He was thirtyish. I had had older but I had felt pressured then. I almost laughed at that. I didn’t feel pressured now. I hadn’t forgotten that I was Matthew’s property. But I wasn’t worried about what would happen if I said no. I knew I’d never say no. I dragged up Sara’s skirt over my hips and turned around as he tossed me the cleanest shirt I owned. It was a black tee with a faded yellow orange skeleton I had picked up for a dollar at the thrift store.

“Smash, huh?” He nodded to the skeleton as I pulled it down over my tits, “That brings back memories.”

“Cool,” I said, not getting the reference. I tossed the clothes around and started feeling worried, “There’re no panties in here.”

“There are actually a few lingerie sets in there,” Sara said conversationally, “But you don’t really need them do you?”

“Uh...” I blanked. Matthew walked up behind me and rubbed my cunt. I was dry and confused and he didn’t look super happy to pull back dry fingers.

“Yeah, I think this’ll do,” He smiled and I smiled back because otherwise I’d have cursed, “You ready to go?”

“My sneakers?”

“Are rancid,” Matthew said, “We’ll need to get you new shoes. Anything of Sara’s you can wear?”

After another quick look, I found a pair of loose braided sandals. They had bigger heels than I had ever worn but they were wedges and not spikes. My heels just hung off the back of them a little bit. “I guess these will do.”

‘Excellent!” Matthew took my hand and started for the door. I hopped behind him as I struggled into the second sandal, “Today’s going to be a beautiful day.”

“It certainly looks nice out,” I mentioned as I was pulled out into the hallway. My head was on a swivel as we entered public. I bounced until the elevator arrived. I didn’t know how much of the beautiful day I’d get to enjoy. I tugged the skirt down a little further. There wasn’t very much there to reach. My tshirt reached nearly as far down and I didn’t want people thinking I walked around in what I slept in. I was terrified to be going out into the world. I was thrilled to be leaving Sara even temporarily behind.

I was not flatteringly dressed. Sara’s expensive shoes could be paired with her trashy skirt. Neither matched my own tshirt. It had long become faded and threadbare. I wasn’t wearing a bra. I had tied back my perpetually wavy hair with a green elastic. For nearly fifteen months, I had lived on the street. I was used to wearing layers of sweat stained shirts and a pair of ketchup stained cargo pants. I had absorbed a second skin of mud and slush. It wasn’t until right now that I felt filthy.

My beat up but nice feeling sneakers were fermenting in a ziploc bag and so I wobbled in a pair of heeled sandals. They were a size short but I had narrow feet and I could almost fit them enough to get around. I was dreading how my feet would feel when we were done with them. Every step and I became horribly aware of the free air running over my newly bare cunt. I looked at Matthew but he was lazily yawning as we watched the numbers tick down. The elevator stopped on the second floor.

“We’re not going down where we came in?” I asked as I followed him off.

“No, we’re going to cut through the courtyard on the way back to my place.” He said. I followed him around the balcony where a team of women in bleach stained sweats were washing down windows and watering plants.

“Good morning!” Matthew smiled at the woman by the door. She smiled back as she stepped aside.

“Good morning, to you too,” She said, “You don’t seem to be in the right place.”

“I beg to differ,” Matthew grinned and his arm slipped around my waist. She gave a warm laugh and I turned a deep red. He led me out into the air.

It was early, between six and seven, but the sun was already coming in warm from the harbor. I looked back at the woman, my age maybe a little bit older. Her not quite shoulder length hair in dozens of thin braids. I found my finger running around my bracelet. I turned to Matthew, “Who was she?”

“Who was who?”

“The black girl, the cleaning woman,” I expanded.

“She’s part of the maintenance team for the three towers,” He shrugged.

“No, I meant, what’s her name?”

“You just had every opportunity to introduce yourself,” He dismissed as we stopped by the second tower. To our right was a row of offices and a small corner store that was just being opened. He looked back at me, “I feel like a peanut butter Oh Henry.”

“Oh?” I said in lieu of congratulations.

“What’s your chocolate bar?” He asked with a bright grin.

“Uh,” I hadn’t really had much candy on the street, “I guess Reese Peanut Butter Cups.”

“Thank God,” He sighed warmly, “I can keep you.”

I staggered a step as a rush of fear vibrated through me. Matthew didn’t seem to notice. I knew clearly he was being facetious and I reacted that way. I was inched even closer behind him and tugged my skirt down again.

We were welcomed by a bell and the bored Korean teenager at the counter looked up only for a moment before turning to a small TV silently showing a baseball game. I kept Matthew between him and me as he walked up to the racks of candy.

“Mmm,” I heard and looked down the length of the store. A couple of young teenaged boys were drooling over my legs. I tugged my skirt back down hoping they’d only seen my legs. Matthew paid the disinterested clerk with a five and passed me my bar. I was happier when we left the store.

“This is so fucking good,” He announced having barely waited for his change before peeling down his bar and taking a bite. He took another loud chomp.

“I’ve never tried it,” I mentioned as I watched him talk and chew his candy.

“Well at the risk of ruining the ‘more for me’ argument,” He held the bar towards me and I took a bite from his hand. It was really good. He pulled away when I went for another bite but he smiled, “You have your own.”

“I do,” God it felt good to consume recreational sucrose again. I don’t think I hardly chewed the first cup. We walked through his front doors and into his elevator in a companionable silence. I was happy enough just eating my treat until we reached his apartment on the top floor.

“Have you been out all night, young man? Your mother and I have been worried sick!” The words hit me like a freight train when we entered. Could he still live his parents? Could parents still treat a thirty year old man like this?

“If anything, Craps, you’re the mother,” A second man’s voice came from deeper in the apartment.

“Why do you say that?” The door closed behind me and I could see Matthew’s roommate in the kitchen, watching the microwave and holding a piece of reddening paper towel tightly around his left middle finger.

“I’m not the one bleeding in the kitchen,” Said voice number two.

“Oh, morning Craps, still up?” Matthew kicked off his shoes haphazardly. I left mine, Sara’s, neatly by the closet doors.

“Nah, Harriet’s only left me Sundays for the chromatography lab, so I’m heading out,” He looked at me. Craps (seriously?) was a more classically handsome man than Matthew. He was a bit shorter, a bit leaner, and he was missing his beard on his own volition. He was dressed in a pair of jeans hanging low around plaid boxers. He wasn’t cut, no six pack, no pecs, but he had a nice chest. I kind of like the dark rimmed hipster glasses. His hair was a delightful mess. He gave me a nice smile, “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Dawn,” I shook his offered hand.

“Your text said she was blonde...” His nice smile bore an undercurrent of sinister.

“He probably meant Sara,” I said a moment before turning bright red. I looked at Matthew, worried and confused. He just shrugged with a smirk.

“We were just going to grab a change of clothes and get some breakfast.” Matthew reached for my hand. I smiled when he held it. Craps raised an eyebrow. Matthew picked the candy wrapper from my hand and threw it towards a white bucket in the kitchenette. The microwave beeped and stopped.

“I’m good,” Craps declined the invite. Matthew headed into the apartment. I didn’t know what to do for a second but hurried after him. He gestured lazily towards the living room, “And Joe’s in there.”

Matthew’s bedroom was the last down the hall. My nose turned up as soon as I stepped across the threshold. The room smelled of unwashed clothes. Old shirts, pants, underwear and socks were on the floor. A fan rattled in the corner, slowly turning its head and surely pushing the smell at us with it’s not quite cool air. There was no overhead light and the curtains completely blocked out the sun. A reading lamp sitting on a dresser next to the lopsided bed had its neck turned around was was pointing up giving the room a dull dank glow. His bed was unmade. Two pillows were on the floor near the head and the blankets were lumped up at the foot. There was a closet with its doors off their runners holding a couple green shirts and a sport coat. A basket of ostensibly clean clothes was on top of the dresser, scattering a handful of action figures. There was desk that had a closed laptop and several drinking glasses in the midst of piles of books and doodles. Two framed pictures, one with two girls and the other with the prettier girl in London were pushed to the back of the desk.

“I’m going to take a leak,” Matthew discarded his shirt and grabbed a spare from the basket. He also took a pair of boxer briefs, “There’s probably Pepsi or something in the kitchen if you want it.”

I looked around the room and wondered if he was embarrassed. He wasn’t showing it. “No, I’ll be OK.”

“Alright,” He closed the door behind him and I rushed to the window to crack it. It actually was all the way open but the curtain was blocking it. I yanked those back and let in some light. I went to the dresser and pulled out the drawers finding them incredibly empty. I folded the stale but clean clothes from the basket and put them in the top drawer. Next, I tossed the basket in the center of the room. Every piece of clothes I waded through on the way to the bed I threw into the basket. I made an educated guess with his sheets and threw those next. I stripped the pillows of their cases and then threw all four objects. The basket was way more than full now. By myself, there was no getting mattress, boxspring and runners realigned in a few moments so I left the bed Hindenburged. I made another path of carpet to the desk.

I stacked the papers and made sure every open book had it’s page marked when I lined them up against the wall. I didn’t have a trashcan so I just piled the crumbs with the dishes and moved them off to the side. I figured the photos would look nicer a little closer to the front and picked up the one of the pretty girl in London.

“That’s my baby sister, Misty,” I had heard Matthew pad across the hallway and open the door but I still jumped a little.

“Baby? How old is she? 16?”

“Twenty,” He said with a smile. I put it down where I thought it should go.

“So she’s the same age as me,” I turned and watched Matthew cringe a little at that thought. He shook it away with a smile.

“I see you couldn’t take the mess,” He laughed.

“Yeah,” I shrugged, “I know how important it is to take care of what you have. I just don’t why you might live in a mess when you have sex slaves.”

“Well, you are the first sex slave to make it into my room,” He stepped up to me and that whiff of Old Spice and Ivory was an antitoxin. He warmly wrapped me up when I dug in.

“You let me be the first?” I said and I could feel my heart ratcheting up its beat.

“Yeah, Sara and Carmen creep me the fuck out,” Matthew kissed my hair, “I mean, I still don’t really get what I can do.”

“Yeah,” I mirrored his trepidation, “Is there anyone you can talk to? To figure out how they got this way? How you are this way?”

“You’re thinking I’ve always had this in me?” He smirked.

“Uh, maybe, probably?” I stepped over a strewn shirt and didn’t look down, “I can sort of see how you wouldn’t notice it.”

“Ha,” He laughed as he held his bedroom door for me.

“So what now? Breakfast?”

“Probably,” He fished his phone out of his pocket. I followed him to the living room. Joe, the other guy, tall and skinny and crooked, sat on the sofa. He was well dressed, neat, it was probably on him that the living room and the kitchen didn’t match Matthew’s bedroom. He was idly playing an old Gameboy Advance.

“Hi,” I said and he looked up.

“Hi. Joe,” He smiled genuinely.

“Dawn,” I said and worried about my skirt again. He was probably too tall to get flashed but I brought my knees close together anyways.

“Yeah,” Matthew interceded, “We’re going to go grab some breakfast.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Joe shrugged.

“Might get a cup of coffee,” Matthew suggested.

“Like a person with a job or a hobo?” Joe asked while I turned an embarrassed red at the question.

“Then we’ll probably head back here this afternoon.”

“Yeah, I’ll be gone.”

“Cool,” Matthew directed me back towards the exit, “See you around.”

“Nice meeting you,” I said.

“Yeah, bye,” He didn’t really return to his game because he hadn’t quite stopped.

Matt put his phone to his ear when we were out in the hall. I shut up and tried not to eavesdrop. He was calling Carmen who I wondered about. He mentioned an old master in an awkward tone and said something about not having a car. I called the elevator for us. He had hung up before the doors slid open and let out a college girl with square cut bangs and her huge Newfoundland dog. Matthew smiled at her and said “Hey Monster!” To the dog he idly scratched behind its ears. She smiled back and I said Hi to her. She just nodded and we were separated by the elevator again.

“Monster seems like a nice dog,” I commented.

“I have no idea if that’s its name,” He shrugged, “I see her now and again and her dog barks when we’re too loud through the wall.”

“She’s never corrected you?”

“No, not that I recall,” He yawned as we stopped on the fourteenth to let on a couple of grungy looking stoner guys, “You need a cup of coffee?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Cool, Carmen’ll be a bit anyways,” Our conversation kind of died because the stoners were talking forcibly about Magic. I couldn’t follow and I shared a smile with Matthew but I don’t know why or if we were laughing at them. We left the tower and walked up to Brunswick St and turned left towards downtown. I wondered where he had suggested, there were a couple small places up the hill a block but we didn’t head that way. A half block from his apartment was a redbrick church. When he started up the steps I felt fear. Oh fuck! Is that how this works? Some sort of brainwashing Jesus freak shit? Oh God! My feet followed him in through the big black doors.

The church opened into an empty chapel and we took a hard left turn and started down into the basement. The old architecture and dated decorations unsettled me further. We passed through another big black ominous door. The path opened into the a nice well-lit corridor with the kind of tiles I remembered from high school, only cleaner. The walls were painted in bright white with a purple trim. There were bulletin boards and posters across the walls. They were a mishmash of for sale signs, bright welcoming notices and reminders of upcoming events. There was a closet to the right with three pairs of shoes neatly arranged. A pair of white women’s running shoes, a scuffed up pair of work boots and practically annihilated pair of men’s sneakers. Matthew noticed nothing and walked briskly through a pair of lighter steel doors into a massively open room. I hurried along beside him.

“Good morning, Matthew!” A brightly smiling priest in the black shirt and collar was sitting at a plastic table with a mug of coffee, “Smells reaching the street again, is it?”

“Good morning, Father,” Matthew replied with a respectful grin. I followed him at his heels. The urn was on the table next to the priest.

“And who’s this with you this morning?” He asked looking me over. I shivered despite the comfortable temperature. I had never liked preachers. Dad had been a deacon and I had been an altar girl once upon a time. It wasn’t because of Dad that I had ended up on the street, but it had been the thought of asking a favor from him that had kept me there.

“This is Dawn,” Matthew slipped an arm over my shoulders and squeezed. I smiled at the priest because it beat talking.

“Finally found yourself a girlfriend then?” I looked away with a blush, “Well, Dawn, I hope you can get him to come in for a seat in the pew and not just a cup at my table.”

“We’ll see,” I said politically but that perked up the priest. Personally, I felt like flying out of Sara’s sandals. This news about Matthew let the elephant get off my heart. I had much more respect for someone who’d rip a church off for a cup of coffee than someone who’d go in for mass.

“Well help yourself,” There was a pile of mugs next to the urn and Matthew filled two. I was given a yellow one with a tortoise on it. He took a world’s best grandfather, “Sister Frances Maria outdid herself this time.”

I held the mug in my hands. I realized I hadn’t worried about my skirt, my heels or my legs since I had seen the priest. I honestly found myself hoping to catch him leering. I wanted to witness hypocrisy but he was terminally pleasant. I looked across the table.

“Is there sugar? Milk?” I asked when I realized Matthew and the priest were drinking theirs black.

“You’ll have to head into the kitchen and face Sister Frances for that,” The priest warned. He waved to a door a few meters down from where we entered. Matthew gave me a shrug and sipped from his cup. I tried it black. Nope.

“I guess I’ll go say hello then,” I have never produced any syllables less confident than those. I carried my coffee like it was determined to splash all over me. I was glad the sandals had wide wedge heels. I still wiggled a bit, but in the way I figured Matthew would like to look at, not teetering inexorably over. I knocked on the kitchen door.

“Doesn’t lock!” A voice shouted out and I took a deep breath as I entered.

Sister Frances Maria was a young woman. I had seen young nuns before but they were always in cartoons or porn. In person, I saw a woman throwing her life away. She wore the habit and all of her hair was under the white banded blue hood. I could tell she was a redhead by her eyebrows and freckles. She had a cute face. She was thin and short. Her dress was light, conservative and bland. She had on a pair of blue rubber gloves and was cleaning off the counters with a spray bottle of Mr Clean.

“Oh Hello,” She said. I watched her eyes travel up and down me. She forced a smile when our eyes met, “How can I help you?”

“It’s a little strong,” I lifted my mug.

“There’s milk in the fridge,” She smiled, “Skim OK?”

“It’s fine,” I usually dumped two of those blue topped creamers tubs in my cup. I walked over to the green 1970s fridge. I pulled out the 1 liter carton, sniffed it, it seemed fine and I put a big shot in my cup. I looked back to the nun. She had opened up one of the cupboards, “Sugar?”

“How’d I know?” She pulled out a green tin and brought it over to me.

“The priest said you brewed this?” I asked as she dragged out a thin drawer on rollers and passed me a spoon.

“Yeah, Father Leon likes it strong,” She smiled, “I have to take my mug in here to drink it as well.”

I looked passed her shoulder to where a plain black mug sat. “I’m Sister Frances Maria.”

“That’s a mouthful,” I decided, “Can I call you Fran?”

“You can call me Sister,” She offered. I felt a little shock up my spine. I had heard Sara call me sister. She used sister easier than she had used my name or Carmen. I wasn’t going to call anyone sister.

“No thanks, Fran,” I smiled over my cup. Oh wow, that was good now, “My name’s Dawn.”

“You know in my job I can get away with calling you ‘my child’.”

“What did you do get pregnant in the womb?” I snorted.

“I don’t find that particularly funny,” the nun said.

“So it’s funny in general?” I pantomimed wiping sweat from my brow, “Woo. Load off my mind.”

She did laugh at that. She had a nice smile. I imagined she was the kind of woman the Catholic church historically had used to convert vikings or something. The lucky nuns were probably dragged back to Denmark.

“You make a good cup of coffee, Fran.” I filled in the silence.

“What brings you here this morning?” She rested back against the kitchen counter.

“My boyfriend comes here for the coffee sometimes,” I shrugged, “We needed a pick-me-up. Rough night.”

“I can see that,” She judged. I actually was feeling much better about getting fucked last night. Part of me felt compelled to go drag Matthew up to his messy room and fuck him again. I wondered if I could be loud enough that Fran would hear me down in this basement. I still had most of my cup left so I took another sip. “You’re not dating Matthew are you?”

“Dating suggests we go out sometimes,” God that felt good. She didn’t flinch like I hoped she would, she just rested.

“Matthew seems like a kind enough man,” She told me, “Treat him well.”

“Very well. Want me to treat him once for you?”

“No, you’d probably hurt yourself,” I spit out the coffee in my mouth at the way she said that. I was laughing. A couple tears formed in my eyes. I looked over at her and smiled.

“You’re not so bad, Fran.”

“Well you seem like a bit of a tart,” She smiled, “But we can’t all be perfect.”

“I did the perfect little girl thing way longer than I wanted to,” I was surprised to find my mug empty, “So I’m just going to go and be me. It was nicer than expected to meet you Fran.”

“Just put the mug on the counter and I’ll wash it out,” She directed me when I hesitated, “Have a good day and maybe we’ll see you again.”

“Maybe not,” I answered honestly, “Goodbye.”

“God bless.” She dug at me. I just turned back towards the door.

“Oh and Dawn?” I stopped and looked back.

“Yeah Fran?” I turned back at the door.

“Your vagina’s showing.”