Chapter 8
"What's 'the Consensus'?" Michael asked.
Julia looked at him sideways over her shoulder. Michael had tied her across the dining room table, her ankles attached to opposite table legs, and her wrists firmly tethered to the further side. She could not move much, just enough to enjoy the slow, methodical fucking he was giving her.
"Do you... really want... me to answer... um, answer that now?" she replied.
"Please," he said. He was feeling smug. The nightgown he had taken from Lucy had been clutched in his hand when he had woken up. "I could stop if you like."
"N-no, don't stop. The Consensus is the group mind of everyone. Oh that's good... It's what k-keeps us h-honest."
"In what way?"
"Well it tends to keep the r-real world c-consistent. Stops us s-stealing stuff... that kind of th-th-thing, oh god I'm going to..." Her back arched and he felt her vaginal muscles clamp down on him. She thrashed uncontrollably against her bonds for a minute or so, and then lay still.
Michael continued to slide himself slowly in and out of her. Finally she stirred.
"Say you wanted to steal the crown jewels of England. There's nothing to stop you walking in and taking them, but then the Consensus starts playing its part. If no one in the real world has noticed the theft and you take your attention off the jewels, the Consensus will put them back. Otherwise people will rationalise it as a theft, and if there's a theft there must be a thief. Even though there can't be any, the police will find evidence leading to you and you'll be caught. The Consensus knows what we do, you see, even if individuals don't, and it acts to stop us doing things it doesn't like."
A groan escaped her lips then. "God, Michael, fuck me." He began to pump harder, desiring his own release now. "That's better, that's good." He felt her inner muscles clenching on him and it did feel good. "Small stuff you can sometimes get away with," she said. "P-people think they've just l-lost them. Unn, yes, please, faster."
Michael gripped her hips hard and began pounding into her as hard and as fast as he could. She came screaming, her fingers clawing at the tabletop, and his cock pumping jism deep into her body.
Michael heard the doorbell chime at two-thirty in the afternoon. His mother was out, so he ran down the stairs to answer it, and found Lucy standing on the doorstep. She was wearing the cut-off, long sleeved, yellow T-shirt and purple, flared mini-skirt of the school cheerleading squad. The legend 'Go Polecats' emblazoned across her breasts were thrust toward Michael with a force he could not remember seeing on any of the girls before. His heart began to pound slightly and his cock stiffened painfully in his jeans.
"Lucy, hi," he managed. "What brings you here?"
"Um, could I come in, please?"
"Sure," and he gestured for her to enter, closing the door behind her. "The lounge is through the door on your left," he added.
"Could we, maybe, go somewhere a little more private?"
Michael's cock got harder. "My room is upstairs, will that do?" She nodded and marched up the stairs. He followed, not quite able to see up her skirt to check for signs of panties. "First right," he instructed and she opened the door and walked in. Michael walked and closed the door, leaning back against it while Lucy stood at the other end of the room, facing away from him.
"I've been having some weird dreams the last couple of nights," she finally said. "You've been in them. We've... we did stuff I don't usually do, and... and I liked it. I... I need to know if you've got something to give back to me."
Michael reached under his pillow and pulled out the nightgown. "This?" he asked. Lucy turned and let out a soft gasp. She nodded. "Do you have something to say to me?"
"Michael," she began and then seemed to reconsider. "Master, I want to be your slave, your sex toy."
Michael smiled slightly. "Take off your shirt," he said.
Lucy reached down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head. Her breasts were cupped in two slim pieces of fabric that forced them up and forward; her nipples and most of her breast flesh was bare. "Does my master like what he sees?" Lucy asked. She actually seemed eager to please.
Rather than answer, Michael said, "lift your skirt." She reached down to the hem of her skirt and lifted it up to just under her breasts. Beneath it she was naked, her neatly trimmed, blonde snatch quite visible to his devouring eyes. He walked slowly around to stand just behind her. His hand lifted the back of her skirt and he ran it over her bare bottom. She let out a small whimper. "So, what kind of girl walks all the way from your house in a mini-skirt and wearing nothing under them, Lucy?" he breathed.
"I d-don't know," she quavered.
"Of course you do, Lucy." He pushed his hand between her legs and then up to press against the base of her pussy. "What kind of girl buys a bra like the one you're wearing and then stands in a boy's bedroom with her skirt around her waist?"
"A n-naughty girl?"
"Not just naughty, Lucy. More than naughty, surely?" He began to rub his hand back and forth between her legs. "What kind of girl are you, Lucy?"
"I-I'm a... oh... a slut!"
"That's it, Lucy, you're a slut. A little kinky sex toy slut. What are you?"
"I'm a slut. I'm a slut that wants her master to fuck her now. Please, Master?"
Michael pulled out his hand. "No," he said. "Sit down on the bed." She did as he asked, though there was something of a petulant look on her face. "Spread your legs as wide as you can," he commanded, forgetting what she was capable of. She forced her legs out until they almost formed right-angles with her body. "Good, now lift up your skirt and start playing with yourself."
Hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence, Lucy began stroking her fingers between her pussy lips. Her clit swelled under her ministrations and she began playing with it, rubbing faster and then slower, teasing herself into an orgasm. Michael watched as she worked herself up to the point where she would cum, waiting until the last instant before saying, "stop!"
She jerked her hand away from her pussy and stared, wide eyed at him. "What have I done wrong, Master?" she whimpered.
"Nothing, yet," he replied, "but I think I'll cum before you do today." He stripped in front of her and stood at the foot of the bed. "Keep your legs apart, but come over here and suck me off."
Performing perfect box splits, Lucy rotated herself forward and wrapped her exquisite mouth around Michael's cock. Her blonde hair bobbed below his navel as she sucked and stroked him into heaven. Her fingers caressed his balls, her tongue lapped at the head of his cock, and she worked him deeper and deeper into her mouth as she had done in the dream world the night before. When his cock touched the back of her throat for the first time in real life he could no longer stand the sensations; his cock spasmed and he shot his load into Lucy's mouth. She did her best to suck it down, but some escaped to dribble down her chin.
"Th-that's a good little cock sucker, Lucy," Michael managed. He backed away from her, looking down at his slowly sinking manhood. He so wanted to fuck her this afternoon. Somehow it felt like it would cement her slavery to him. He looked down again and willed himself back to erection... and his cock obeyed him.
Lucy gasped. "Oh wow."
"Yeah. Stand up and bend over the bed," he told her and she leapt to her feet to obey. He lifted her skirt, pushed her legs wider apart to give him a better angle, and slid into her soaking wet pussy.