Be Mine	Back to N	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
updated jul 18 - 2010

M/ff, mc, D/s, exhib

Be Mine
by Captain Eazy

DISCLAIMER: This is an adult narrative, involving explicit sexual activity. If you are under age or are offended by such material, don't read it. The story is my intellectual property; you may download it for your own amusement, but do not repost it on any site that charges uses for the privilege of reading the story.

1

Casey Brock came in early that Valentine's Day. He stopped by Brenda's desk and set down the tiny little heart-shaped box of chocolates -- Brenda couldn't resist chocolate, but she was mindful enough of her figure to resist a big box.

This one held only four chocolate truffles in all, an assortment of tasty liqueurs with an alcohol content high enough to disguise the spicy bite of the special potion.

Little box of fancy chocolates with a swirly “Be Mine” in gold foil on the top: twelve dollars. Less than an ounce of love potion: seven thousand five hundred bucks. Chance of getting the Ice Queen in bed: invaluable.

The ramshackle little shop that Casey had stumbled across two years earlier was owned, as far as he could tell, by a little old man of indeterminate nationality and a face like a dried apple. It held curios by the dozen, including some darts in glass boxes with stern hand-lettered warnings: POISON! Dried creatures that looked as if they came from another world or another dimension. Glass amphorae with murky, multicolored liquids. Casey had just stepped in to get out of the rain, and wrinkling his nose against the sweetish fug of the shop, he was about to step out again when from behind his counter the old man said, "Love potions are the most expensive." Of course, it had come out sounding like this: "Lurve possiones arr the mos' spensi'." Still, Casey had understood him.

"Really?" he had asked, squinting through the dimness at the scrawny old guy in a faded red Hawaiian shirt. He looked like a mummy on a beach vacation.

"Rilleh," the old man had replied. "Takes ver' little, though. Few drops. She will be yours forever. You will control her. Ver' expensive, though. Seven t'ousan' five hundred. Take you. . . two year to save that."

Now how had the old guy known that? The consultancy for which Casey worked paid Christmas bonuses each year. Casey usually pulled a couple of thousand. If he could manage not to spend that . . . yes, he might be able to sock away three thousand five hundred from his regular salary. It would only be . . . somewhat less than a hundred and fifty a month….

Not that he had believed the old man.

Still…the Ice Queen….

Brenda Duane, though a couple of years younger than he, had rocketed up to the rank of Junior Consultant at the firm, the same as Casey. She was gorgeous, with a full bosom, midnight-black hair, and a face like an angel's carved in ivory. She was also brusque, abrasive, and damned good at her job. She might unbend just enough at holiday time to wish Casey a merry Christmas, but that was it.

Phil, the writer-editor who put the consultant's reports into a format that the customers could read and understand, had once told Casey that Brenda had suffered an early loss in love that had left her frigid. "I hear that she caught her boyfriend in bed with the girl who was supposed to be the maid of honor at her wedding…which was scheduled for the next day. Since then she hasn't had any use for guys. She what do you call it, she sublimates all that into her work."

It seemed to be that way. Casey had often tried to speak to her casually -- "Nice job on the Leeds account," or "That's a great outfit, Brenda." She usually gave him a cold silent stare or, if he were lucky, an icy "Thanks." No encouragement there.

So why did he become so obsessed with the idea of bedding her? He couldn't say. Nor could he say why he returned to the curio shop after a couple of weeks. "Love potion?" he had asked the old man.

"Seven thousand five hundred," the old fellow had returned placidly.

"How does it work?"

The old man's eyes glittered. "You have her swallow little bit. Few drops. Taste is strong, but you could hide it in alcohol. Then she go sleepy, few minutes. While she sleep, you kiss her. Like Prince Charming, hey? Use tongue. She taste your saliva, she bond to you. What you want her to do, she do. You tell her. She cannot stop herself."

"She'll want to -- to love me?"

"Want, no. Have to. She give in, in time. She love you whether she want to or not. You in control, see. She have to do what you tell her."

"Anything?"

"Everything." One of the glittering eyes winked.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"You get money back, but it work. It always work." Another possible wink. "Maybe you come back for other potions, hey? Maybe you want her to be different. Bigger boobies, tighter pussy? Got those potions too. Not as much as love potion. Love potion hard to make. Expensive ingredients."

So maybe Casey wouldn’t have gone for it if Brenda hadn’t gotten the promotion to Senior Consultant ahead of him, ahead of everyone. She had been working for the firm for only three years, as opposed to his six and Michael’s eight. But she was the one who got the nod when the department expanded. She was the one who moved out of the cubicles and into an office opposite the copy room.

Somehow or other, that year Casey saved a thousand and socked away his two thousand dollar Christmas bonus. And the next year he saved fifteen hundred and got a Christmas bonus of . . . two thousand, same as the year before. While he knew for a fact that Brenda and the other Senior Consultants got bonuses in the five thousand range.

So on that Friday, that Valentine’s Day, he hovered anxiously until he saw her come in. She wore her usual business attire, a white silk blouse and a knee-length charcoal skirt, three-inch heels which she immediately kicked off, toeing her pair of office flats from beneath her desk. He headed to the copy room with a sheaf of reports and, as usual, found he had to wait in line. He leaned against the doorframe and glanced over. Brenda was unpacking her briefcase. “Hi,” he said.

She glanced at him -- God, she had wonderful eyes, blue as sapphires -- and nodded. He saw her slip into her chair and reach for a file. Her hand paused. She had seen the heart-shaped box. She picked it up.

Casey’s heart was pounding like crazy. Stupid, he told himself. It will never work.

But she picked up the candy box, turned it to see if there was a note, and then reached for her letter opener. Yes! She slit the shrink-wrap, opened the little box, and studied the four dark-chocolate truffles inside. Then, daintily, she picked one up and popped it into her mouth.

“All yours,” Diane said, and Casey went to copy his stack of reports.

That took all of two minutes. When he finished, he peeked into Brenda’s office again. She sat with her back toward him, apparently reading something on her computer screen. “Hey,” he said, “if you need to, uh, copy anything, the machine’s free.”

She did not respond. Didn’t even glance at him. He saw that her head sagged to the side.

Casey eased into her office and quietly closed the door behind him. It shut with a snick. He locked it.

“Bren?”

No response again. Casey approached her desk, put his stack of reports and copies on it, and picked up the candy box. One chocolate gone, three left.

He reached for the arm of her chair and swiveled her around.

Brenda was asleep, no question. Her eyes were closed, her breathing regular, her lips slightly parted.

Like Sleeping Beauty, he thought wildly.

Prince Charming the old guy had said.

Casey leaned over the sleeping girl, caught the chocolate scent of her breath. He swallowed hard and kissed her. His lips moved, forcing her lips wider. He explored her mouth with his tongue. She made a soft purring noise in her throat.

But she did not kiss him back.

He pulled away. “Brenda?” he asked.

“Mmm. . . yess?” Her voice was a breathy whisper.

“Brenda, this is Casey. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Listen. You’re going to sleep for a few minutes, and then wake up. I don’t want you to think about the chocolates you found. You’ll forget all about them. Listen. If you have any plans for lunch, cancel them. At twelve noon exactly, I want you to come to my cubicle and tell me you have a project you want my help on. You’ll suggest that we go to lunch together. Understand?”

“Yesss…”

“But before you come to my cubicle, you’ll go to the ladies’ room and take off your panties. You’ll hand them to me when you invite me to lunch. You’ll take care that no one else can see you do that. Now I’m going to leave. In a minute or two, I want you to wake up and do your job the same way you always do. You won’t remember any of this.”

She didn’t answer, and he stole away, the remaining three chocolates in his jacket pocket.
* * *

Casey could hardly keep his mind on work that morning, but he crunched some numbers, arranged a client report for the printers, and then did some routine data entry. He kept looking at the clock.

At precisely noon, she appeared at his cubicle. “Hi,” she said.

He turned in his chair. “Hi,” he said.

Brenda looked troubled, doubtful. “Uh, I have a project,” she said slowly. “I’d like you to help me with it, I -- we should talk about it -- talk about it over lunch.”

“Fine,” he said. “What do you have for me?”

Her face flamed, and she held out a flimsy pair of pink panties. He took them from her and put them in the same pocket as the box of chocolates. “How about the Chinese place on the corner?” he asked.

She stared at him, confusion in her blue eyes.

“You like Chinese,” he said, knowing that wasn’t true. “That will be just fine.”

“I . . . like Chinese,” Brenda said slowly. “That will be just fine.”

“Good,” Casey said, saving his data.
* * *

They rode down to the lobby in the elevator. Casey hung back, holding onto Brenda’s arm, until the lunch crowd had trailed off ahead. “On second thought, I think we should go to your car and have sex. Don’t you?”

“Unnhh,” Brenda groaned. Then, unwillingly, “Yes.”

Brenda’s car was a new BMW, smoke-gray. The rear windows were darkly tinted. They got into the back seat.

“It was nice of you to give me your panties,” he said. “Pull up your skirt now. Show me your pussy.”

Cool and dim in the car. He sat with his back against the passenger-side door. She sat across from him, her back against the driver-side door. She raised her butt from the seat and pulled the skirt up. He could see her black bush dark under her panty hose. “What are you doing to me?” she asked in a thin, frightened voice.

“Brenda, you know you love to show me your pussy,” he said in a voice of gentle reproach.

“Nnn. . . ahhh. . . .” She writhed, tugged her pantyhose down to her knees. She spread her legs as widely as the restrictive waistband of the garment would allow. Her pink slit opened like an exotic orchid. “What are you doing?” she moaned.

“Just what you want me to do,” Casey said. “You’d like to fuck me now, wouldn’t you?”

“I d -- nnn -- yess,” she groaned between clenched teeth.

“Undress. Take everything off.”

In the confines of the back seat it could have been a comedy act, but Brenda had a wonderful, supple body. Casey suggested to her that she loved to show herself off to him, and she agreed, though tears dipped down her face as she stripped. When Casey suggested that she was becoming excited, her pink nipples swelled. When he invited her to undress him, she did so with trembling fingers, kissing him, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He sat in the center of the seat and she straddled him, grasping his cock. He whispered to her, telling her she was getting wet, so wet, and telling her to get him ready.

She took her weight on her knees and rubbed his cock head up and down her slit, her juices flowing so freely that they dripped. She lubricated him with her pussy juice, and then at his command she thrust herself down on his rod. He murmured to her, telling her just how to find the right rhythm, and he assured her that she loved it, that she needed this, that she was his play-thing, his fuck toy. She groaned and wept and agreed.

Casey built her excitement, her arousal, to the point where she began to beg, “Let me come, please. I want to come.”

“All right,” he said at last, and she gasped in trembling release, her pussy clenching his cock, drawing his own orgasm on, and he felt his rod throb and pulsate as it shot its load inside her.

“That was wonderful,” he said.

“That . . . that was wonderful,” she agreed in a whisper, leaning against him, her beautiful tits pressing against his cheek.

“You’re going to invite me to your home for the weekend,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please. Stay with me this weekend.”

“You’re going to want me to fuck you.”

“F -- fuck me all w-weekend.”

“You’ll suck my cock.”

“Y-yes.”

“You’ll swallow my cum.”

“I’ll s-swallow -- swallow your cum.”

“You’ll de everything I tell you.”

“I will.”

“And you’ll love it.”

She was shaking now, and he embraced her, running his hands over her smooth back, over the swells of her buttocks. “You’ll love it,” he repeated.

“I’ll l-love it,” she sobbed.

“Good girl,” he soothed. “That’s my good sexy girl.”

2

On the drive to Brenda's apartment after work, Casey ordered her to talk to him and so he learned about her private life: she shared an apartment with a girl named Cara, but that wouldn't be a problem at the moment because Cara had left just that morning for a week-long ski vacation in Colorado, flying out there with her boyfriend. Brenda, as Casey had already suspected, had no boyfriend. No one else was likely to interrupt them. They'd be alone all weekend long.

The apartment building impressed him. It was a modern, stylish high-rise a few miles out in its own landscaped grounds with a small lake and a park-like garden area threaded by meandering walkways. The gardens were pretty bare this early in the year, but Casey imagined they would be green and burgeoning with color in the spring and summer. The place was certainly a lot grander and more upscale than he could afford.

Brenda's apartment was nice, too, two big airy bedrooms, a kitchen/dinette, a living room, and a balcony overlooking the garden. The rooms were tastefully decorated with obvious feminine touches and colors. As soon as they stepped through the door, Casey had Brenda strip. "You will not wear clothes again until Monday," he said. "You enjoy showing off your body to me." "Yes," she said dreamily. She had not wept for some time now, and Casey thought she was slowly adjusting to the potion, actually beginning to feel real affection for him instead of just compelled obedience. She took off everything and stood naked before him, her chin down, her unfocused eyes gazing toward the floor, her cheeks blushing a hot pink. But he noticed that her nipples were erect and dark with sexual excitement.

"Good," he said, admiring her lush body. "Very good. Now, do we have enough food here for the whole weekend? Is there anything we need to get?"

"Plenty of food," Brenda said to the carpet. "I have some wine, some rum, and some tequila, too."

"Do you remember what you promised you'd do?"

"Swallow your cum," she said in a tiny voice.

He unzipped his fly. "Show me."
* * *

If there could be such a thing as a two-person orgy, Casey enjoyed one that weekend. He took Brenda every possible way, mouth, pussy, and ass, and she complied with growing abandon. Oh, she resisted at first, trembling and sniffling when she first took his cock into her mouth, but the hold of the potion seemed to grow stronger on her from moment to moment, and before Saturday morning she willingly joined in whatever romp he suggested, giggling and cooing and purring when he gave her an orgasm. When Casey had fucked her to the point of exhaustion, when he just couldn't get it up any longer, he had her finger herself or fuck herself with a vibrator--she had three of them, what a greedy bitch she was--and kept her hanging on the very edge of orgasm until he gave her permission to come. Every time she thrashed and gasped and wound up by panting, "Thank you, oh, thank you." By Saturday afternoon, Brenda clung to him like ivy, and she loved every nasty thing he suggested. Sunday was a long, slow day of indolent fucking and sucking, giving Casey clear evidence that Brenda had become his willing, adoring slave.

Very early Monday morning they woke up, and he had Brenda dress for the office, except she wore no bra or panties. He wanted his slut to be instantly available, whenever the occasion offered. She drove him to his apartment, where he grabbed a quick shower and changed clothes, and then they went on to work.

As they stepped off the elevator, Casey said in a low voice, "Do your job the same as always. Come to my cubicle at noon. You're having cock for lunch."

"Thank you," she said, her eyes shining.

Then a little after ten he headed for the copy room with some work to duplicate, and he heard Mr. Tesson's angry voice growling out from Brenda's office: "You haven't even made a start on this project, Miss Duane!"

And Brenda's quavering, abashed reply: "S-sorry, sir."

"What's wrong with you?"

Casey stuck his head in the open doorway and said, "Hi, Miss Duane, are you feeling any--oh, hello, sir."

Tesson spun around, his dark eyebrows as foreboding as thunderclouds. "Brock?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here," Casey said. "I knew that Miss Duane was feeling sick this morning--you are feeling sick, aren't you?" He nodded, cueing Brenda.

In a weak voice, Brenda obediently said, "Yes, I don't feel well today."

Tesson grunted. "Well--there's a virus going around. If you can't do the Glen Verde project--"

"Sir," Casey said, "I've just finished duplicating the book for the Cedars group. I could help Miss Duane, if you want. If she's not well, I'd be glad to lend her a hand."

"Oh, well. Is that all right with you, Miss Duane?" Tesson asked, swiveling back toward her.

She looked at Casey for some clue, and he mouthed words at her over Tesson's shoulder. She repeated them faithfully: "Yes, that would help. Thank you, Casey."

"That's all right, Brenda," Casey said cheerfully.

As soon as old man Tesson had left them, Casey asked, "What's wrong? Why didn't you start the Glen Verde project?"

"I don't know how," Brenda said.

He stared at her. "Don't know how? You do this all the time! You're the best in the office!"

"I don't remember how to do it." She rose slightly from her swivel chair and pulled her skirt up, revealing a pink slit of pussy showing through her pubic down. "Do you want to fuck me, Casey? You can fuck me now if you want."

Casey jerked his gaze toward the open office door. "Not right now! Pull your skirt down!" he said in a rush. "Okay. Where are the Glen Verde files? Here? Hmm. Looks like they want an assessment of how their point-of-sales force has been performing. Okay, this won't be hard. You'll need a couple of consultants. Ziegler and Moss are good, and I think they're free. Okay, here's what you need to do. . . ."
* * *

It was incredible and, frankly, maddening. Casey had to instruct her on every little step, all the routine tasks that had to be put together to launch the project. He felt exhausted by noon, and a disappointed Brenda learned that she wasn't having cock for lunch, after all. He bundled her downstairs and they drove to the weird little shop where Casey had bought the potion.

The old man had changed to a blue Hawaiian shirt, but he looked just as shriveled as he had before.

"Ah," he said the moment Casey and Brenda entered the dim confines of the shop. "This the lady you give potion to?"

"Shh!" Casey said, wincing.

The little old fellow chuckled with a sound like a rusty gate swinging in a high wind. "Hee, hee, heee! Make no difference, sir. She not care if she love you because she love you or if she just fuck you because of potion! You fuck him, girl?"

"Oh, yes!" Brenda said. "He fucks me so well! He sticks his cock in so deep--"

"Shut up!" Casey said. To the little old man, he growled, "Look, something's wrong. She can't do her job at all. I'm having to do it for her, or to tell her everything she has to do. She's like some kind of baby. She's lost all of her ability--"

"Hee, hee, heee! She still have ability to screw, I bet!"

"Fix her," Casey said.

The proprietor of the shop shook his head. "Can't fix. You get potion to make her love, she love. Can't do anything else. Can't learn anything else no more. No will of her own. She have to do everything you say--but she can only do everything you say! You want her have bigger titties? Nice little potion, just hundred dollars--"

"Her titties are fine!" Casey said. "Look, I can't tell her what to do at work all day long, every day! Can't I just tell her to do her job?"

The old man shook his head again. "No, too simple, that. You have to tell her to do each step, see. Every time. She have no will of own, no, what you call it, originality no more. Not able to think up new ideas. Must have them from you. Always. Forever. No changing that. But she fuck and suck you any time you want, you bet. You like suck him?"

Brenda nodded, but didn't speak. She licked her full lips.

"Hee, hee, heee!"

"Oh, God, I've got to think," Casey said. He looked at his watch. "Come on, Brenda. We'll be late if we don't start now."

Docilely, she followed him out.
* * *

Back in her office, Brenda called Mr. Tesson. The big guy didn't realize that Casey was whispering her lines to her as she spoke into the phone. "We've got the Glen Verde outline finished," she said. "But I'm really feeling rotten. Look, Casey Brock knows the project now, and he can do the organizing and the follow-up. If it's all right with you, sir, I'd like to go to see the doctor. I may be out for a day or two, but Casey can cover for me. Yes. . . . yes. Thank you, sir. Yes, I'll tell him. Thank you." She hung up the phone. She beamed vacantly at Casey.

Casey ground his teeth together. "Tell me what he said," he ordered.

Brenda frowned prettily and carefully replied, "Yes, better go to the doctor. This bug is pretty nasty, they say. Take care of yourself. Well, Brock is fairly reliable. I guess that would be all right, but be back as soon as you're well."

So he had a little breathing space. "Okay," Casey said. "Now listen very carefully. I want you to go downstairs, get in your car, and drive back to your apartment. Go into your apartment. Lock the door behind you. Sit on the sofa. Wait for me. I'll be there after work."

"Then can I suck your cock?"

"Yes," Casey said.

"Oh, thank you!"
* * *

At half-past five, Casey tapped on Brenda's door. She did not open it. He took out his cell phone and called her. She did not answer. Of course. He had not told her to answer the door if someone knocked, or to pick up the phone. Grimacing, he leaned close to the door and shouted, "Brenda! This is Casey! Come to the door. Unlock it. Open it for me."

A moment later, the door swung inward, and he stepped into her apartment and closed the door behind him again. Brenda dropped to her knees and hungrily opened his belt, unfastened his trousers, and undid his zipper. With his pants around his ankles he stood there as she tugged down his shorts and leaned forward, humming and making urgent little mews like a little kitten. She lovingly enveloped his flaccid dick in her hot mouth. God, she sucked hard! He felt her eager, burning tongue flickering all over his cock, and an instant later he was hardening, swelling. She looked up at him happily and began to caress and fondle his balls as she moved her head, pumping him, mouth-fucking him. She pulled away for a moment. "Is this right? Do you like this?" Her voice was husky, insinuating, dirty.

"I like it," he said. "Make me come!"

Chuckling happily, like a little kid with a new toy, she returned to her task. His hips twitched, and he started to fuck her hot, wet, tight mouth, plunging his rigid member in and out. She lapped and sucked, and then she started pulling, tearing at her blouse, ripping it off, popping the buttons. Her perky tits bounced out, and she ran one hand over and over them, pinching the nipples, rolling them between finger and thumb. Her head bobbed, she sucked, her fantastic tongue washed over and around the swollen head of his dick, swirling, polishing, God, it felt great.

With the breath panting hard in his chest, Casey said, "Come for me, Brenda. Come now!"

Brenda immediately shuddered and groaned in ecstasy. Weird. He could make her have an orgasm at any moment, but the ones she had at moments like this were especially good for her. Her twitching, jerking release triggered his own, and he felt his cock throb as it shot jets of hot cum into her mouth. She swallowed eagerly, with a frank and demanding greed, and when he started to go soft, she finally pulled away. A drop of cum oozed from the tip of his cock, trailing a long silvery string, and she moved to catch it on her left breast, gently massaging it into the soft flesh, purring, murmuring her undying affection.

He pulled her up to her feet, and she shucked her skirt and panties. "Do you want to fuck me now?" she asked.

"Not right now," he groaned. He pulled up his shorts and pants. Stupid, stupid, this was so damn stupid! He hadn't wanted this--well, he had, actually, he had wanted to fuck the ice queen Brenda, had wanted her to be his sex slave, but not the rest of it!

He sat on the sofa, and she sat close to him, with one leg hiked up over the back of the sofa, the other knee bent, other foot on the ground, making a lewd, inviting display of her naked flesh. She began to stroke her pink pussy, smiling when he looked at her. "I'm wet," she said in a confidential, sexy whisper. "When you want to fuck me, I'm so wet and ready."

"Yes, that's nice to know," he said. Damn, he was feeling his dick start to twitch again! She was a great piece of ass, the best he'd ever had, but, damn!

"Look," he said, "I want you to go to bed now. You are tired. You need sleep. I want you to take a nap for a few hours until I get back, okay? Then I'll make you fuck me."

"Will you fuck me in the ass?" she asked cheerfully.

"Uh, sure, yeah, whatever. I need your keys."

He tucked her in, made the suggestion that she fall asleep, and she immediately did, or else did a great acting job. Casey locked her in, drove back into the city center, and found a parking spot not too far from the odd little shop.

"You back," the proprietor said. "Not bring nice lady?"

"Not this time. Look," Casey said desperately, "isn't there an antidote to that damn love potion?"

The old fellow gave him a broad grin that showed mostly pale gums. "Hmm. You fuck her, right? She suck you? Swallow when she suck you?"

Casey felt that his own face was hot with embarrassment. "Yes, yes, she did, okay? Why?"

The old man shrugged elaborately. "Too late then. You kiss, she bond to you. Because of your saliva, see. DNA, you know? Very strong bond there! But she get your semen inside, even more, she swallow it, she become yours forever. She lose all drive, all originality. She your doll now, your what is thing, puppet. She like puppet. She only good for sex now. DNA in semen very strong stuff, make her yours. She love you, see. Love you always. She only do what you tell her. You have to tell her everything. You should like!"

"It's great in bed," Casey muttered. "Not so great at work!"

"That your problem."

"Damn it! And you don't have anything that will take the, the spell off?"

"Got many other things. You want bigger dick? Got potion for that. You want to have hard dick anytime you want, ten, fifty times a day? Got potion for that. You want to change color of her hair, her skin? You want her to have tighter pussy? Want her to grow fur and tail, be cat girl for you? All those can do. Put her back like she was? Cannot do. Live with it. She good girl. She like to fuck and suck you. Many men envy you!"

"But she'll lose her job!"

The old man sighed. "Keeping you happy--that her job now. Fucking and sucking, that her only job. That her life now. Deal with it."

Deal with it.

"I suppose I'll have to," moaned Casey.

3

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday Casey kept Brenda out sick. In the mornings he told her to stay in bed and sleep, and of course she obeyed. In the evenings he woke her when he returned to her apartment and she was all over him, eager to carry out his every lascivious command, begging for his orders, offering herself in every imaginable position and style. He happened to glance at the calendar on the refrigerator Thursday night and gave a little start of surprise. “Brenda!”

“Want to fuck me?” she asked impishly from the doorway. She was stripped, as usual.

“This says Cara’s due back tomorrow!”

“Uh-huh.”

“When?”

“’Bout five P.M. She and Dave are flying back from Colorado--”

“Listen,” Casey said desperately, “we’ve got to do something. She’s bound to notice how different you are.”

“How am I different?” Brenda asked, pouting a little, her face showing a kind of childish puzzlement. She didn’t seem to notice that she was stark naked, stroking her tits with her left hand and fingering her slit with her right.

“Trust me on this,” Casey said. “Okay, listen. Sit down here. Here’s some paper. Here’s a pen. You’re going to write a note to Cara, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Tell her you’ve met a guy and fallen in love with him. Uh, tell her that the two of you are off for a while and, and you’ll call her. Tell her--what are you writing?”

He read over her naked shoulder and groaned. Brenda had jotted down a bright little note, all right: Dear Cara, I’ve met a guy and fallen in love with him. He sticks his cock in my pussy and makes me swallow his cum when I suck his dick. . . .

“No!” Casey said. He crumpled up that sheet and said, “Write just what I tell you, okay? ‘Dear Cara, I’ve met a guy named Casey Brock at work. I’ve fallen in love with him, and--and he loves me--”

He cleared his throat. Why had it clenched like that? Why did he have the absurd urge to weep? He had just wanted to get hot Brenda in the sack, that was all. He didn’t love her. Though it was hard not to feel something toward her, the same kind of indulgent fondness a person might feel toward an absolutely loyal pet. Still, it would be more convincing to have Brenda write it. “Uh, okay, he loves me. We’re spending some time together, so don’t worry about me. I’ll call you and make sure you got home okay. Love, Brenda.”

Obediently, Brenda copied out his message.

“Okay,” Casey said, running a hand through his hair. “Now let’s get you packed. You’re going to have to move in with me for a while.”

“All right,” Brenda said. “But first, please, fuck me?”
* * *

Friday, because he didn’t know what else to do, Casey let Brenda come back to work, but he carefully coached her to behave as though she were recovering from a bad case of flu. She acted the part splendidly, and old man Tesson readily agreed to let Casey continue to help her. “He’s wonderful,” Brenda said to Tesson, just as Casey had ordered her to do. “In fact, I’d like to have him as my permanent assistant.”

Tesson frowned. “Brock? I’ve never thought of him as a very motivated worker, but I have to admit he’s done a good job covering for you. Okay, we’ll try it. I’ll tell him.”

And so a few minutes later Casey moved his desk into Brenda’s office. She was delighted, and while he went online to gather some statistics for an upcoming project, she slithered across the carpet on hands and knees, came up beneath his desk, and gave him a hell of a good blow job. He groaned.

That afternoon, as soon as they were off work, Casey led her back to the little curio shop. Today seemed to be green Hawaiian shirt day for the wizened little shop owner. They found him deep in conversation with a burly young cop. A nervous Casey pretended to browse among the mandrakes and the hands of glory until the policeman finished his business and turned and left the store.

“Here you are again,” the shop owner said. “Forgive intrusion of police. Protection money.”

“Huh?” Casey asked.

“Hundred dollars a month.”

Casey darted a glance toward the front door, but the officer was long gone. “You have to pay the cops a hundred dollars a month for protection?”

“Shit no!” exploded the old man. “He pay me! What you think, I crazy?”

“Oh,” Casey said. “He gives you a hundred a month, and you--what? Give him a potion?”

“Ruck,” the old man said.

“What’s--”

“Good ruck,” the old guy explained impatiently. “Like, punk have gun on him? It jam. Drunk driver try to run over him? Driver go blind, miss. I give him good ruck.”

“Ooh, Casey, I really, really like this,” Brenda said. “Buy it for me?”

Casey looked at her. She was holding an ivory carving in the shape of an erect penis. A very large erect penis.

“You have good taste,” the old man said. “That bring comfort to whole generations of Empresses and their daughters.”

“Put it back!” Casey said, and Brenda did.

“He that big?” the old man asked her with a wink.

“Oh, no!” Brenda held her fingers about six inches apart. “Casey is only--”

“Shut up!” he yelled.

“Hee, hee, heee!” the old man creaked. “You want him that big, I got a potion--”

“Listen!” Casey interrupted desperately. “There must be something I can do, some way to, to bring Brenda back, to make her--herself.”

“You think?” the old man asked with an evil leer. “Why you want?”

“Because I--I don’t want her to be this way!” Casey said angrily. “I feel guilty, okay?”

“Hmm.”

“I do,” he said in a quieter voice. “I didn’t at first. I just wanted to--to take her. And she’s a fantastic lover, I’d like to keep that, but, but--but I want her back, dammit. There has to be something you can do.”

“No,” the old man said. “In sober, objective fact, there is nothing at all I am capable of doing to change Brenda, Mr. Brock. I am not saying, mind, that there is nothing that can be done, only that I cannot do it. Perhaps there is a possibility, though I must admit that in many years of experience, I have never heard of anyone overcoming the effects of the potion. Still, there are all sorts of exotic liquids in the world, and it is barely possible that you may find the one that will restore her sense of herself. But ask yourself, sir, is the trouble, after all, with Brenda, and not with yourself? Consider: You have made a choice without pausing to consider all of the consequences, and that is always a mistake. Is it not written, ‘Any path may be crooked or straight, depending on him who walks it?’”

“Wait a minute,” Casey said. “How come you’re talking like that?”

“Talk like what? You crazy fellow! Think about what I say! If you truly feel guilt, you truly think deep on what I say, huh? Then maybe you learn to feel something else in time.”

That evening the lessons began. # They were lessons in a course Casey designed, one that he might have called “Brenda 101.”

He was trying desperately to teach her to be herself.

Brenda was, all in all, a wonderful student, willing, eager, happy to be corrected, rapturous when praised, absolutely devoted to pleasing her teacher. Early on, Casey could see that she was not going to be her old self ever, not completely. She’d never be the Ice Queen again, not when she melted at his every kind look or word. And she adored cock now. In fact, her reward for making progress in the ‘how to be normal’ lessons always involved a good fuck or--something that absolutely made her weep and then scream with ecstasy--a long, lazy session of cunnilingus. Casey discovered how sensitive she was down there, how the delicate folds of her labia would inflame her whole being at the slow tease of his tongue. She tasted, well, wonderful, fresh and faintly salty. When he gave her an orgasm that way, he reduced her to quivering gratitude, and then she was fervent in her desire to do anything--anything--to please him in return.

Evening after evening he re-trained her, and by the first of March he was convinced that people in the office no longer thought she was acting strangely. They attributed whatever little oddness they saw to the lingering effects of her illness. Bad bug, they told each other.

Several times that week Brenda had called Cara for long phone conversations. Casey pumped Brenda for information about Cara and about how the two of them spoke to each other, and he discovered that Cara was a considerably freer spirit than Brenda. Cara Tauhiti was of exotic descent--her grandfather had been a Tahitian sailor who had wound up marrying an American girl in Hawaii--and she worked as a researcher for a law firm. She had a boyfriend, Dave, but their relationship had been a little rocky lately, because Cara suspected Dave of cheating on her. Hence their Valentine’s make-up trip to Colorado. And one other thing: Cara loved to talk.

That was fortunate. Especially during the first phone conversations, with Casey listening in on an extension and giving Brenda cues on how to react, Cara had carried the weight, telling Brenda not only how she had gone skiing for the first time in her life but also how Dave, with some medical help from a little blue pill, had fucked her four times during the vacation.

“Four isn’t very much,” Brenda had burst out. “Why, I--”

Casey shook his head frantically, and she changed gears smoothly: “I know that when you guys first started dating, it was more like four times a night.”

As days went by, Cara began to ask when Brenda planned on coming home again, and she grew increasingly critical of Brenda’s evasive replies. Casey gnashed his teeth and gave it. They’d have to prove to Cara that her roommate was happy with her new boyfriend, not being held under duress. Although, come to think of it--no, Casey preferred not to think of it.

That Saturday night, Casey, hoping for the best, took Brenda back to her apartment, where Dave and Cara were joining them for dinner. Cara took a man’s breath away: dusky, dark-eyed, black-haired, full-lipped, her face promised wicked intimacy. She was full-breasted, a little shorter than Brenda but a lot bustier. Her dark brown eyes gleamed as she inspected the man who had finally made an impression on her coy roommate. “Hi, Casey,” she said when Brenda had introduced them. “You must really be something. I thought Brenda was going to turn out to be like a nun or something.”

“We just clicked,” Casey said.

David showed up not long afterward, a jock type, built like a linebacker, solid and wide. He tried to crush Casey’s hand when they shook. “What’s to eat, Babes?” he asked.

“Steaks,” Cara said shortly, and Casey glimpsed the disenchantment she was starting to feel with Dave. “You and Casey sit down and watch TV or something. We’ll get the meal ready.”

They turned on the TV and Dave, without asking, found a sports channel. “All right.” He turned it up too loud, Casey thought. But a second later he found out why. Under the cover of the blaring sound, Dave said, “So you’re nailin’ old tight-ass Brenda? Man, you could do better than that!”

Casey said, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Now Cara, she’s a real fuckbunny,” Dave leered. “Hell, we were in Colorado last week, and we musta done it fifteen times in one week, no lie. She loves it!”

“Really? Well--I think I’ll see if I can help set the table,” Casey told him.

The steak was good, juicy and tender, but Casey found the meal a strain. For one thing, Cara obviously was angry at Dave for some reason, and their conversation had that maddening elliptical quality of an argument being carried on just beneath the surface. For another, Brenda kept reaching beneath the table to stroke his cock through his jeans. Once when Cara and David were wrangling over whether or not steak sauce was required, Brenda leaned close and whispered, “Do me right now.”

Cara’s head flicked toward them. “Did you say something?”

Casey reached for the bread. “Uh, she wanted another roll,” he said. “Here you are, darling.”

After dinner, Dave suggested a movie, Cara pled a headache, and Dave left, grumbling. Casey helped the girls clear the table. “Sorry it wasn’t more of a fun evening,” Cara said. “The bastard’s cheating on me again. Or still.” She poured herself a glass of white wine, held it in her right hand, and held her left arm across her chest, just under her breasts. “So this is the real thing with you guys, huh?”

Casey smiled and shrugged. “Can’t get enough of Bren,” he said.

“We fuck a lot,” Brenda confided, giggling.

Casey felt his face turn red, but Cara just chuckled. “Enjoy it! Casey, I warn you: You mistreat Brenda and I’ll nail you somehow. You’d better not let me hear about you running around on her.”

“No,” he said.

She drank her wine, then sighed. “I really do have a headache. I’m going to bed. Have fun, you two.”

Brenda wanted to make love, as she always did, this time doggie-style, with her bent forward over her bed, him standing behind her. She whimpered with pleasure as he gripped her hips--she had a really gorgeous ass, springy and round--and pounded into her tight, hot, wet slit. He told her she could come, forgetting how much she yelled. He closed his eyes, knowing that Cara, whose bedroom shared a wall with Brenda’s, must be hearing it.

He stayed until well after midnight, drilling Brenda--no, not that kind of drilling, coaching her--on how to behave all the next day. On Monday she would come back to his apartment, but he felt it would be just too weird not to let her stay at her own place with her roommate now and then. Obedient Brenda promised she would be a good girl and that she would stick to the conversational subjects Casey prescribed.

He went home alone, hoping that she would remember. # Odd how empty his apartment felt all the rest of that night, all the next day, all Sunday night. He had become so used to romping, randy Brenda that her absence was like a hole in his heart, an ache he couldn’t ease.

He called her Sunday afternoon to reinforce his training, and she fingered herself to orgasm while talking to him. He groaned, wondering what life was going to be like from now on. It was as if he had been saddled with a toddler in a lush, grown-up, demanding body. Everything was new, and Brenda had to learn it all from scratch.

Monday came, they were reunited at work--literally, fifteen hot minutes on the floor of their office--and at the staff meeting at ten they received a very challenging project. It was a far more complex job than anything Casey had ever handled, requiring counseling an old and stodgy firm that wanted a complete redesign of their business model. He hoped he could handle it. These days he felt light-headed from loss of sleep, and low on energy. Well, no wonder.

But Brenda could help now, a little, and together they spent the rest of the day putting together a plan for tackling the project.

That night they made love three times, like newlyweds, and finally Brenda fell asleep still joined to Casey. She lay sprawled on top of him, her head nestled against his throat, her soft breasts flattened on his chest, his flaccid cock still barely contained in her pussy. He could smell her sweet breath, could feel the long heat of her. His throat ached again from guilt and regret.

What had the little guy said? “There are all sorts of exotic liquids in the world, and it is barely possible that you may find the one that will restore her sense of herself.” But, damn it, he was no alchemist, no magician.

“I’ll have to go back to the shop,” he told himself. And he would have to offer money, as much as it took. He’d get it somehow or other.

As long as he could restore Brenda in some way.

As long as he didn’t have to give her up.

If both could be managed.

He stroked her bare, smooth back and, cursing his own thoughtlessness, he drifted into sleep.

4

In the next couple of weeks, Casey discovered something new, not about Brenda, but about himself: He had been doing a half-assed job for years.

In teaching Brenda to behave like herself, he was discovering that he had not been putting forth much effort. He had met his job expectations, barely, but he had been satisfied with that. In working with the complex new project, he constantly found himself going beyond the merely necessary, meeting the clients more than halfway, suggesting alternates and pointing out the benefits of even the most difficult choices. The clients, against all odds, seemed to like him. The project became a major job for Casey's company, with the prospect of big rewards if they carried it through. Casey was careful to give props to Brenda for all this, and Brenda in return insisted that their work was all a team effort -- as, of course, Casey had commanded her to do. Tesson seemed to be pleased with both of them.

One evening Cara called, wanting to remind Brenda that she needed checks for rent and utilities. Casey had forgotten details like that. He lied and told Cara that Brenda was out at the moment, but promised to give her the message, and as soon as he hung up the phone, he told Brenda to get her checkbook.

Brenda did, then sat naked in his lap, nuzzling his ear, thrusting her tongue down inside, whispering vulgarities in a husky voice as he looked through her check register. "Do you -- stop that -- have automatic deposit?"

"Mm-hmm." She giggled. "I can feel your cock getting hard under my ass! Mm, I love it. Let's fuck, please. Let me fuck you."

"After you write some checks. Looks like you owe half the ren -- mpf!"

Brenda had turned to straddle him and had grabbed his head, pulling his face into the warm soft pillow of her breast. She squirmed against him, rubbing the pulsing nipple across his lips. "Suck it," she groaned. "Mm, bite it! Oh, I want to feel your cock deep inside me."

What the hell. Business could wait. Casey flicked his tongue across her stiffened nipples, and she threw her head back and gave vent to a long, sexy "Ahhhhhh!" Her hands caressed his head, stroking his hair, and even with his face pressed into her breasts, he could smell the heady, musky scent of her pussy, growing wet and ready for him.

"Let me get undressed," he muttered at last. “I’ll fuck you, but let me --”

"No, can't wait," she moaned. She hopped off him, hastily unzipped his pants, and fished out his straining cock. Then she was astride him again, settling down, letting his shaft glide smoothly into her wet waiting slit, and she began pumping him. "God, yes! Oh, it's so good! Do you like that? If you do, bite my nipples!"

Actually it was a bit uncomfortable. The zipper of his fly scraped his cock near the base as she moved up and down, and he struggled to tug the opening a little wider. He cushioned his bottom teeth with his lip, caught one of her nipples between his top teeth and his lower lip, and nipped at it. She squealed and writhed. "Yes! Harder! Oh, thank you! Wanna come! Wanna come now!"

Like a little kid with a toy, Casey thought.

But her rippling pussy was wonderful, like tiny fingers working his cock, like a mouth inside a mouth inside a mouth, three sets of wet, greedy lips sucking at it. He couldn't hold back for very long and he groaned, "Come, Brenda!"

"Yesss!" She leaned way back, pinching her own nipples, and Casey saw the familiar pink flush, almost a rash, that she always showed when she came. She drove down hard, and he spurted inside her. A moment later, she had pulled off him, dripping strings of cum, and dropped to her knees, her mouth eagerly cleaning his rod, her tongue searching for the little white liquid pearls of his jism. She sank two fingers into her dripping cunt, brought them away glazed with his cum, and sucked them, smiling up at him in rapt adoration.

"Now," Casey said when he got his breath back. "Checks. Please?"

He got a towel for her to sit on and had her write checks for rent and utilities. When she finished, he had her use the computer to check her bank balance.

"Twelve thousand dollars?" he asked in amazement. "Uh, do you owe anything else?"

The car payment was an automatic deduction, nothing to worry about there. She had a savings account, too, with nearly fifty thousand in it. Hell, if he'd known that, he could have had her quit the job, and then he wouldn't have had to -- to retrain her --

But he'd liked training her. He'd liked bringing at least a faint semblance of the old Brenda back.

"Do my ass?" Brenda asked pleadingly. She had slipped out of the computer chair and braced herself on hands and knees, legs far apart, and she looked back over her shoulder at him with a winning, expectant, lascivious smile.

"I ought to get some of that damn guy's potion for a hard dick," muttered Casey.

But he couldn't resist that magnificent ass.
* * *

One morning in mid-March, without warning, Mr. Tesson walked into their office. Fortunately, he found Brenda working at her computer console and Casey proofing a report. Had he come in ten minutes earlier, it would have been a different scene altogether.

"Here you are," he said, as if he had expected to find them somewhere else. "Listen, everything going smooth on the Chancellor project?"

"Yes. It's big, but under control," Casey said. “We’re wondering if they’re really going to be willing to overhaul their --”

Tesson waved a dismissive hand. "Good, good. So the two of you might be able to find time for a . . . a smaller job? Local?"

"The Chancellor project is awfully complicated," Casey said. "Isn't it, Brenda?"

"The Chancellor project is awfully complicated," she agreed, nodding.

"Well, the thing is, this business asked for you two, specifically," Tesson said. "Look, at least give the guy an estimate. If you can work his project in, I'll give you two a bonus. Say five thousand apiece. Sound good?"

"Uh, we can talk to him, I guess," Casey said. "Brenda, we can at least talk to him."

"We can at least talk to him," Brenda agreed gravely.

"Good, good," Tesson said. "I'll send him in. Strange guy, but he seems to know what he wants. His name's--uh--" he looked at a card--"Toe."

Tesson walked out. Casey looked at Brenda. "What the hell kind of a name is Toe?"

"Do you want to fuck me now?" Brenda asked hopefully as soon as their boss had left.

"Not just now. Later, maybe."

A couple of minutes later, a very thin, elegantly dressed older man appeared in the doorway. He wore an expensive-looking tailored suit, dark gray, a pale blue silk shirt and a conservative tie. He might have been in his sixties. He also wore an old-fashioned white Panama hat, which he swept off as he entered, revealing a high, bald forehead, skin the color of old ivory, and a face so wrinkled it looked like a relief map of the Himalayas. His long gray hair, really just a fringe, was pulled back into a ponytail held by a gold clasp studded with small rubies and sapphires. "So pleasant to see you both here," he said in a deep, resonant voice. "May I be seated?"

"Sure," Casey said, wondering where he'd seen the guy before. There was something familiar about him, especially his voice. He stood and shook hands and then indicated the client's loveseat against the wall. "Please sit down, Mr., ah, Toe."

The man sank gracefully onto the loveseat and his wrinkled face split into a smile. "Mr. Tao," he corrected, and spelled it. "I should have corrected Mr. Tesson, but his mispronunciation based on my card was really rather touching. Dear me, Mr. Brock, don't you recognize me? You have visited my little emporium several times." He winked a glittering eye and his voice kited up into a treble register as he asked, "You want potion for big, big boobs? For big dick?"

"Good God," Casey said.

"Thank you for the compliment, but not quite," Tao replied solemnly. He extended an appreciative hand toward Brenda. "Ah, lovely lady. Is he still fucking you well?"

"Just once today," pouted Brenda. "My pussy is so wet for him."

"Shh!" Casey spun around and locked the door. He had the irrational feeling that he should pile his desk, Brenda's desk, and possibly the little old man against it as a barricade. "Not here!"

"But she is responding in a very open, loving, natural way," Tao said with a shrug. "Brenda, do you truly love this young idiot?"

"Oh, yes," she said, her eyes gleaming.

"Hmm. And you love him even though he won your devotion by giving you a love potion that I supplied?"

"I love him," Brenda insisted. "Oh, I love him so much!"

“I rather believe you do.” To Casey, Tao suggested quietly, "Tell her to open the window and jump out."

"What? No!" Casey said. "We’re three floors up!"

"Go ahead. It will be interesting to see what happens."

"No!"

Tao sighed. "Lovely lady, if Casey should tell you to open the window and leap out of it, what would you do?"

"I'd open the window," Brenda said, smiling. "Then I'd jump out."

Tao nodded. "Yes, I believe you would. Damn, but I'm good," he said. "Mr. Brock, I congratulate you. My potion subjugated her will, but you have won her utter devotion and love. When you finally get tired of her, just tell her to fall down a flight of stairs or walk in front of a speeding truck --"

"Get up," Casey said between clenched teeth. He had balled his fists. "Get up and let me knock you back down again, you --"

Tao waved a long-fingered hand in a side-to-side, dismissive gesture. "I do not believe in violence. Is it not written, 'He who kills with a sword shall be slain with a sword?' Some such claptrap, anyway. Mr. Brock, I did not say you had to do such a thing. But the possibility exists."

"It's a goddam evil thing to say," Casey growled.

"If the path did not divide into left and right, the way you walk in this life would be without meaning," Tao returned. "However, down to business. I should very much like you to do a longitudinal study of my customers' buying habits. I have many, many repeat customers, but some --" the glittering eye winked again -- "some sorely disappoint me by purchasing only one item from my shop and never coming back. Well, sometimes they come back but they don’t buy anything else. I should very much like to make my services more widely available. In addition to encouraging repeat trade, I should like advice on how to spread interest in my goods and services through word of mouth, which I believe to be more suited to my peculiar business than expensive advertising."

"Go to hell."

Tao looked at Brenda. "Tell him you will take the project on," he said in a commanding voice.

Brenda bit her lip and turned pale. She looked toward Casey, her blue eyes brimming with bright tears of anguish. She did not say a word.

"No," Tao said with a smile. "I retract that, Brenda. Mr. Brock, you have really done an outstanding job. She will not take an order even from me. You belong absolutely to Casey, don’t you, my dear?”

Biting her bottom lip like a little kid, Brenda nodded. She darted a panicky gaze at Casey, who stepped to her side and put his arm around her waist. “If you’re finished scaring her, get the hell out,” he said.

“First let us settle your work on my project,” Tao returned. “I anticipate it will take, oh, six weeks or so. I will need you to design an evaluation instrument --”

“You’re serious?” Casey asked. “You really want to hire us as a consultancy? You’re not just jerking us off?”

Tao held up both hands, palms out, like a magician showing he had nothing in his hands, nothing up his sleeves. “I am not jerking you off, Mr. Brock. Here are my requirements.”

Casey sighed and reached for a steno pad. He jotted down the parameters of Tao’s proposed project, promised to work up an estimate sheet for him, and saw the wrinkled old man out the door. “What happened to the Hawaiian shirts?” he asked in the doorway.

“They are for the shop,” Tao returned gravely. “Is it not written, ‘Do not expect a parrot where penguins live?’”

“Is it?” Casey asked. “That seems like a stupid thing for anyone to write!”

“Maybe it was a TV commercial. I keep getting them mixed up with Tantric philosophy,” Tao said. “Good day!”

Casey closed the door and turned around to find Brenda frowning down at a little rectangle of cardboard. “What’s that?”

“Mr. Tao’s card,” she said, handing it over.

Casey read it:

Tao’s Curios
123 4th Street
Hours: When you come in.
“Gratification guaranteed or double your karma back.”

“Crazy,” he said.
* * *

“Crazy,” Tesson said. “But he’s got a great credit rating, and he wants the work done, so let’s do it.”

“Yes, sir,” Casey replied. “But with the Chancellor project so complicated, wouldn’t it be better to give this to --”

“The old man asked for you,” Tesson said. “For the two of you. And remember, there’s a bonus in it if you satisfy him.”

“Right,” Casey said.

That afternoon, after a fevered session of sixty-nining, he told Brenda that he wanted her to spend the night in her own apartment.

“Okay,” she said, dabbing her lips with a tissue. “But tomorrow, please fuck me at least twice. I’m so horny for you.”

“We’ll see. I just have to think some things through, and it’s so hard to think with you around.”

“Because --”

“Because I love it when I fuck you or when you suck me off.”

“You’re sweet.”

Casey dropped her off, then drove back downtown. Hours: when you come in.

Sure enough, the shop was still open. Some foreign-looking people were haggling with Tao (orange Hawaiian shirt) at the counter, so Casey moped around in the shadows until they had made their purchases and left.

Tao brightened immediately when he caught sight of Casey. “Ah! You back fo’ more, yes? Your girl she like fucky-fuck so much! Maybe li’l potion keep her wet alla time --”

“She doesn’t need it,” Casey said firmly.

“Perhaps not,” Tao acknowledged. “As I said, you have shown remarkable skill in controlling her. I know of few masters who cared enough about their slaves to re-educate them as you seem to have done Miss Duane. She comes into the office every day and to her co-workers, she appears to think and to function. Truly remarkable! You and I know, of course, she is merely a fuck toy now.”

“She’s coming back,” Casey insisted. “A little at a time, but she’s coming back.”

“If you say so. I repeat, Mr. Brock, I know of no potion that can restore her will, but I humbly admit that I do not know the qualities of every rare liquid in the world. Very well, to business: Your Mr. Tesson called me to confirm our agreement. I sign the contracts tomorrow. I look forward to seeing more of you and Miss Duane. I am specifying that I want you two to be my consultants.”

“What? No. We don’t do that. We’re project managers --”

“Mr. Tesson thought it was a wonderful idea to get you into the field and see how the consultants do their work. Is it not written ‘The grasshopper cannot spin a web because he is not a spider?’ I believe you will enjoy the experience. Or at least learn from it.”

“Look,” Casey said, “please tell me the truth, for a change. All I want is the straight story. Why in hell did you pick on me?”

“I am sorry? You bought the potion yourself, did you not, of your own free will?”

“Yes, but I thought it would be like -- you know, like you said, a fairy tale.”

“Alas, Mr. Brock, each human life in this world ends in its own private tragedy. There are no happily ever afters.”

“Okay. I give up. We’ll work with you. But only on one condition: stop talking to Brenda as if she were a damn dog.”

“Or puppet?”

“Or puppet. Treat her like -- like a person. Like a woman.”

Tao bowed. “Very well. I agree. Tell me, though, just to satisfy my own curiosity about her complete submission, did you use every last drop of my potion on her? One is quite sufficient.”

“No, I still have half of the vial left.”

Tao’s forehead crinkled even more as he raised his wispy eyebrows. “In a safe place, I trust.”

“I’ve got it hidden in my apartment,” Casey said.

The ancient ebony eyes glittered in what might have been amusement. “All of it.”

“Yes, all that’s left.”

“Very good. That is best. Think how it could complicate matters if it were not safe.”

But as he got back into his car, Casey suddenly thought, Hold on a minute. Not all of it. There were three of those spiked chocolate candies left.

What the hell had he done with the little red “Be Mine” box? He couldn’t remember.

He arrived at his apartment and went through the place, but he couldn’t find the heart-shaped candy box anywhere. Had he thrown it away? Not likely, not when it held nearly half of his $7500 vial of potion. But what had he done with it?

The question was driving him crazy when the phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that the call was coming from Brenda’s apartment. “Hello?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” Brenda asked.

“Of course I do,” he said. “But now you need to --”

“I’m worried about Cara,” Brenda said in a weird, playful little-girl voice. “She won’t wake up. She just sleeps an’ sleeps an’ sleeps.”

“You need to go and -- what? What do you mean?”

“She found your jacket hanging in the closet and there was that candy in the pocket and she asked if she could finish it and --”

Oh, damn.

“Don’t do a thing!” he said urgently. “I’ll be right over!”

He hung up and ran for the door. Oh, damn. Oh fuck!

5

In a way, Casey thought he should feel grateful that Brenda had thought to call him. A couple of weeks earlier she would never have shown that much initiative. Still, he was sweating as he raced across town, despite the March chill of the night. He had begun to understand that he didn’t want even one slave--well, he did, he still wanted Brenda to be his lover, to be devoted to him, but he wanted her to be herself--now he might be stuck with two mindless sex toys. Not that Cara would be repugnant or anything, but he hadn’t had the sultry, exotic girl in his sights--oh, damn.

By now he had a key to Brenda’s apartment. When he opened the door, he found her not quite nude. She wore, to be exact, a black garter belt and taupe stockings. Three-inch heels. Nothing else. “Hi,” she said, smiling. “Do you want to--”

“Later,” he said, but he took her in his arms and kissed her. She murmured appreciatively and reached down to stroke his cock through his trousers. Reluctantly, Casey pulled away. “Where is she?”

“In there.”

Casey stood in the doorway of Cara’s bedroom. Cara lay sprawled across the bed, right arm bent, hand beneath her dusky cheek. She smiled in her sleep. She wore a robe of some silky material in a jungle-cat leopard-spot pattern, orange and black. One of her long dark legs lay exposed almost all the way to the hip. God, she was gorgeous. From behind Casey, Brenda reached around to caress his cock again. “How, how long has she been asleep?” he asked.

“Couple of hours. I found the box on her bed.” Brenda pointed with her unoccupied hand and on the night table beside the bed Casey saw the familiar little heart-shaped box, three crinkly paper candy cups empty beside it.

He groaned. “Look, that’s really nice, Brenda, but right now I need to think, okay?”

“Okay,” Brenda said.

“Maybe if I called Tao. Where’s the phone book?”

“Kitchen counter.”

Casey pulled off his coat and slid a tall kitchen stool over to the counter. He sat on the stool and opened the phone book. Tao, Tao, Tao. . . .

“Look.”

Casey glanced up. Brenda was hot, no denying that. She stood hipshot, her right leg bent and turned outward. Her lush breasts, gently swelling stomach, the mound of her pussy--he blinked. “You shaved!”

“Mm-hmm,” Brenda said happily. “I thought you’d like it. So smooth. Wanna feel?”

“Yeah, but not right now. Please, Bren. Get me, get me a drink or something.”

“Okay.”

Casey turned back to the phone book. No Tao listed. What was the name of his damn shop? Casey had been in it half a dozen times, he knew the exact location, but for the moment the name had completely slipped his mind. “Here,” purred Brenda, snuggling up to him. She pressed a cold glass of white wine into his hand. “I love you, love you, love you, eat-you-up!”

And she would have, if Casey hadn’t ordered her not to: “Look sweetheart, go sit on the sofa, okay? And, and play with yourself. Make yourself come. Later, okay?”

“Okay,” she chirped, sounding totally compliant.

“What was the name of Tao’s shop?” Casey asked, running a hand through his hair.

“His card’s on the fridge.”

Oh, right, he had given them cards. And there it was, so simple that he had completely forgotten it: Tao’s Curios. Tao had penciled in a phone number. Casey punched it in and absently sipped the cold white wine.

“Hello?”

“Tao?” Casey asked.

“Let me guess. Your girl roommate she eat up chocorate you hide potion in? Hee, hee, heee! You rucky man! You got harem!”

“I don’t want to be ru--lucky! I want--wait a minute, how did you know?”

“Really, Mr. Brock,” Tao said in his deeper voice. “Such things frequently happen in my business, you know. Perhaps I should affix a warning label to the vial when I sell a love potion. But no, that wouldn’t do. People never slow down enough to read the cautions, do they? I take it the girl is now asleep?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t wish to, what is the old-fashioned phrase, to take advantage of her?”

“No! I just want Brenda!”

“But my dear sir, Brenda would be most complaisant should you wish to enslave her roommate. She would assist you in trapping her, in fact. The three of you could be quite happy together. Of course, you would have to do all the thinking for three rather than for two, so you would be quite busy--”

“Mr. Tao,” Casey said slowly and politely, balancing each word, “please. I do not want to seduce Brenda’s roommate. I don’t want her to become a--a fuck-doll dependent on me. Please. There must be something I can do.”

“Let her sleep it off,” Tao said simply.

“What? Is that all? I thought she’d, you know, sleep forever.”

“Silly man! Berieve silly fairy tale!” Then, in his deeper voice, “No, she will sleep all night and possibly all day tomorrow, but she will wake up normal if you do not kiss her. She will be disoriented, as though coming out from under anesthesia. You should remain there overnight. The poor girl won’t know what’s happened when she wakes up, and she could fall out a window or down the stairs, or get involved in a horrendous traffic accident. When she wakes, feed her, keep her quiet, and in a day or so she should be all right.”

“Have to miss work,” Casey said, taking a big gulp of the cold wine.

“Yes, well, I shall call your employer tomorrow morning and explain that I am giving you and Miss Duane a tour of my establishment. You are to act as my consultants, after all. Will that do?”

“Yeah,” Casey said. “I think, I think . . .” he sniffed. A pungency in the air, an alluring aroma. . . oh. On the sofa, Brenda, stockinged legs spread wide, was luxuriously pleasuring herself, fingers glistening from her pussy juices. She licked her lips and winked at him. “I think that will. . . that ought to do.”

“Very good, Mr. Brock. It is on my calendar for tomorrow morning. Call me back and let me know how the girl comes out of it. It is always good to know the full effects of one’s art.”

“Yeah,” Casey muttered again. He hung up the phone and shook his head. He was dog-tired. Must be the reaction, he thought. Here he’d been afraid that Cara was going to turn out like Brenda, and it turned out that. . . that everything was going to be all right.

“You can come,” he said to Brenda, and she did, hips jerking, teeth clenching on her lower lip.

He walked unsteadily over and sat beside her. He reached to embrace her, cupping one breast in his hand, feeling its soft weight, the pressure of her still-erect nipple. She gave him a hungry, deep kiss. “What about Cara?” she murmured.

“She’ll be all right,” Casey said, feeling almost drunk from one glass of wine, absurd. “’S long as I don’--don’t kiss her.”

“Is that what made me love you?”

“Mm hm. I woke up--woke you up with a kiss. And then you swallowed my cum and that bonded us. That’s why you love me so much.”

“I love sucking your cock,” Brenda confided. “Aren’t you gonna kiss Cara? You could play with her. With both of us. That would be so sexy!”

“No, no, hon, I don’t think so.” He lay his face against her breasts, and she stroked his hair. “I jus’--just want--you.”
* * *

He must have dozed. He woke up disoriented, warm, strangely listless though he felt wonderful. Especially his cock. Brenda was sucking it. God, she was so good with her mouth! She loved to taste him, loved to weigh his balls in her hand, to hold his shaft steady and lick and lick the swollen head of his cock until he couldn’t stand it any longer. God, her tongue was so maddening, so hot! He felt like he had a gigantic erection, as big as a horse. “I’m--I’m gonna--” he said thickly, and then his back arched and his cock spasmed, and he shot a load of cum right into Brenda’s gorgeous demanding mouth, and almost as if it were all a dream, Casey drifted off again.

Only to be awakened some timeless period later with a soft, loving, whispered, “Casey!” in his ear. He opened his eyes. A dim light burned, and in its rosy glow he saw Brenda’s face. “Hi, beautiful,” he said.

“Got you a present,” she said with a smile.

“We’re gonna suck your cock, lover,” Cara murmured from his other side.

Casey’s heart pounded. He started to sit up.

But . . . he couldn’t. His muscles weren’t working. He lay naked on his back, with two nude girls, in Cara’s bed. “What? Wh-what did you do?” he whispered. He felt like screaming.

“I kissed Cara with my mouth all full of your cum,” Brenda said sweetly. “Now she’s our slave. Yours and mine. ‘Cause I kissed her, but with your cum.”

“And we got you a surprise,” Cara said. “Mr. Tao has all sorts of potions.”

Brenda giggled and crooked an arm behind his limp neck. She cradled his head and raised it so he could look down toward his feet.

“Oh, my God!”

His cock was huge. Twice as long and thick as it had been, at least. It jutted grotesquely from his groin, as swollen and improbably hard as the carved dildo that Brenda had fingered in the curio shop. Cara tilted her head, smiled roguishly, and gently ran her fingertips over the swollen helmet of his rod, and he almost passed out. The sensation was sweet, it was fucking incredible, just the touch of her fingers was more thrilling than a gasping orgasm. . . .

“Lay back and relax, lover,” Cara said. “You’re in good hands.”

He had no choice. He couldn’t stir a finger. Only his cock seemed truly alive, straining, pulsing, eager for attention. Brenda tenderly laid his head back on two pillows, still propped so he could see what they were doing. Then she turned and knee-walked forward, bending at the waist and giving him a spectacular view of her bare, beckoning ass, the pink pouch of her shaved sex gleaming, its frilly labia dripping with her juices. Cara lay on his left side, nude, her heavy, full breasts enticingly dark-tipped. He groggily noticed that she was clean-shaven down there, too, and he wondered in a bleary kind of way if they had shaved each other, faces close to pussies, wet lather, the whispering razor. . . .

Cara smiled and caressed and fondled his erect dick. “Mm, so much better than Dave’s little weenie,” she crooned. “This is a cock. I’m going to enjoy this so much.”

Brenda was licking the shaft, up and down, balls to the tip, an impossible twelve engorged inches. Her mouth was like fire, and again Casey had the swirling, reeling sensation of being drunk, of being in a dream. Cara stroked Brenda’s hair and held his cock just below the glans--God, it had grown so thick that her dainty fingers barely met around its girth--and cooed as Brenda began to suck and lick the head. She swiped her pointed tongue over the slit of his cock, and he nearly passed out, feeling as if she had, like a hummingbird, dipped deep inside him, questing for his nectar.

“Unnhhh,” he groaned, unable to form any coherent words.

“You want to fuck him, Brenda?” Cara asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Brenda said eagerly around her huge mouthful of dick.

“You fuck him and he’ll eat my pussy,” Cara said.

“Okay,” Brenda said brightly.

Casey was shivering, the only movement he seemed capable of making. Brenda rose up high, having to squat on bent legs to accommodate his extended shaft. She giggled again as she moved the cap of his cock along her wet slit, back and forth, letting her juices leak down on him, lubricating him. “He’s so big now!”

“Easy,” Cara said. “Easy, darling.”

“Ohhh. . . . ” The pulsing head of his cock split her pussy, sank slowly into its hot, slippery embrace. God, she was tight! Or he was big! Casey was gasping for breath, and his eyes were leaking. It was so damn good, so much better, so much more sensitive!

“Here you go, Casey,” Cara said, straddling his face. “You can move your tongue and lips. Here you go. Eat me, sweetie. I’m gonna kiss Brenda and suck on her tongue, and I’m gonna play with her pretty tits and she’s gonna play with mine, and you think of that while you’re eating me out. Here you are. Here it comes.”

Casey . . . obeyed. He strained but could not raise his head. Her wet pussy descended, and she poised on her knees, teasingly, maddeningly, so he could just flick her slit with his tongue. She tasted spicy, oddly sweet. He heard smacking, wet sounds and guessed the girls were kissing open-mouthed, their tongues entwining. Cara’s fingers reached down and began to play with her clit, just out of his tongue’s reach. He felt like begging her to sit lower, so that he could explore her pussy with his tongue, but he couldn’t even talk. Oh, God, and Brenda was riding him, rising up and down on his long hard cock, her hot depths clutching him, holding him in a clinging, squeezing, lascivious embrace.

Cara used two fingers to open her pussy lips and at last lowered herself. Her juices were tangy, her skin dark, her inner membranes shockingly red in contrast. She began slowly to grind her hips back and forth, letting him put his tongue deep in her, letting him flick her clit. “Good,” she said in a throaty voice. “So good!”

Casey couldn’t speak to order Brenda to have an orgasm, but it seemed he didn’t need to, not with his new, improved cock. She suddenly jerked and yelped, and then her yips were muffled as Cara began to kiss her again and again and again. “Let me lick you,” Cara said huskily. “I want to taste his cum again!”

Brenda slipped off his cock--it gave no sign of going flaccid, but stayed rigidly erect, a swollen staff of flesh--and lay with her head toward Casey’s feet, her legs widely spread. Her left leg lay carelessly across his stomach, and he became dimly aware that she still wore the garter belt and the nylons. Cara moved off his face, then leaned forward to eat Brenda’s pussy, smacking loudly, sucking and lapping until Brenda thrashed in another orgasm. Just watching, knowing what it meant to Brenda to achieve a release like that, Casey felt his cock pulse, and he came. A fountain of thick cum shot from his dick, God he hadn’t spurted that hard when he was a teenager. It actually splattered on the ceiling, and the remnant sprayed across Brenda’s stomach. Brenda reached to scoop up as much as she could on her fingers, and she sucked first, then got more goo and let Cara suck her fingers in turn. The girls went head-to-pussy and ate each other out, and a helpless Casey spurted again, just as potently.

Spent, happy, they snuggled up on either side of him, each of them grasping his swollen cock, and they nibbled and licked his neck and ears until he thought he would go crazy. The drunken feeling increased, and finally he realized he was slipping into unconsciousness. Let this be a dream, he begged in his mind.
* * *

But it wasn’t. When he woke the next morning, his cock was more than six inches long, even flaccid, and twice as thick as it had been. Brenda lay cuddled against him, sucking her thumb. Cara was nowhere to be seen.

Casey tried to move and discovered that he could, that his muscles were obeying him again. He felt damnably dizzy, though.

“Got you, you son of a bitch.”

“What?” Cara stood in the doorway, magnificently naked and clean-shaven down below. He rose on his elbows. “What--you ate the chocolates?”

She tossed her head. “I didn’t. Brenda told me enough that I guessed what you had done. I went to Mr. Tao’s store and learned the rest. How do you like his potion? It makes you--” she smiled nastily--“a perfect fuck toy, I’d say.”

“No, no,” Casey whispered urgently. “Look, I’m sorry for what I did to Brenda, and--what? You gave me one of Tao’s damn potions?”

Cara sauntered to the bed and reached out to pick up Casey’s limp cock. She let go, and it plopped against his stomach. “Brenda’s gonna get a good ride out of you from now on. She loves your cock. Now she’ll have more of it to love. You son of a bitch! You gave Brenda a potion, made her your slave, and now you see how it feels! I should’ve fed you one of those damn chocolates and then kissed you, serve you right, but Brenda wouldn’t let me, and she. . .” Cara swallowed. “Hell, I’m in love with her, too, but not because of any damn potion! She’s so horny all the time now, and I cuddled her once, and now. . . goddam you!”

“Mm?” Brenda murmured. She opened her eyes and smiled lazily. “’Lo, lover.”

“Brenda,” Casey said, “I order you to tell me the truth. Did Cara eat the chocolates?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I think so. I didn’t see her, just the box and the wrappers, but. . . .”

“I flushed them, sweetie,” Cara said. “Listen, darling, do you really love this guy with the big dick?”

“Yes! Oh, yes! I’d do anything for him!”

Cara nodded grimly. “All right, then. Casey, are you really doing what Tao said? Trying to put Brenda back like she was before?”

“Trying,” Casey said.

“What if she gets her will back and, say, doesn’t love you then? What if she’s mad at you for what you did? What if she leaves you?”

Casey felt a sharp pang in his throat. “I wouldn’t want that,” he said in a trembling voice. “But if that’s what it took. . . to make her Brenda again. . . I’d have to let her go.”

“What if she loves me? What if she left you and became my lover, my love-slave?”

God, what a beautiful woman Cara was. She was sexually excited even now, her dark nipples, nearly brown, swollen and jutting.

“If that’s what it took,” Casey said miserably.

“Then I guess I’ll let you live and won’t cut your cock off, you bastard,” Cara said. She lay on the bed and reached over to stroke Brenda’s cheek. “Brenda, hon? Would you mind terribly if I fucked Casey? That cock of his. . . I just have to try it.”

“Go ahead,” Brenda said happily. “I want to watch! I’ve never seen Casey fuck anybody. Ooh, that’s so hot!”

“I can’t,” Casey said.

“Hush.” Cara lowered her mouth onto his, gave him a long, deep kiss. For a panicky moment he wondered if she had forced a chocolate into his sleeping mouth, but no, it was just a kiss, passionate and stirring his big dick to life. Cara reached down and fondled it, and in a moment it was erect. “You big bastard,” she said in his face, her sweet breath perfuming the harsh words. “You goddam son of a bitch. Fuck me. Fuck me so Brenda can see.”

She rolled on top of him, and Casey felt her press her pussy down onto his cock. “Fuck me,” she said, hot tears dripping onto his cheek. “God damn, I want you to fuck me so hard that I’ll forget Dave and forget Brenda. Make me come. I hate you. Oh, God, I love you! Ohh, so big. . . .”

“Cara,” Brenda said. She was actually kneeling at the foot of the bed, watching raptly. “Oh, you should see how pretty your pussy is, opening up. Oh, isn’t he big? Doesn’t he fill you up? Oh, so pretty. I’m gonna masturbate and make myself come, okay? Oh, I love watching you fuck her, Casey! Fuck her hard! Fuck her deep! I love you! I love you both!”

And Casey, feeling the eager clench of Cara’s pussy, feeling the building of a shattering orgasm begin, fucked her and wondered if he were in heaven. . . or in hell.

6

That morning, the last Friday in March, Tao was wearing an aqua Hawaiian shirt. Casey was wearing soft black knit, and here was the thing, very loose sweat pants. "We have to talk," he said. Brenda held onto his arm and said nothing.

Tao gave him a devilish smile. "Ah, Mr. Brock. How, as I believe they say, is it hanging?"

Feeling his face turning hot, Casey leaned across the counter. "Halfway to my left knee," he said through clenched teeth. "We. Have. To. Talk."

"Very well." Tao reached beneath the counter and did--something, pushed a button, threw a switch. The front door lock clicked and shades lowered themselves, dimming the already gloomy interior of the shop. "This way."

With Brenda in tow, Casey followed the elderly man to the back of the shop. Tao opened a door, letting in a flood of daylight. "We will be comfortable here."

Casey emerged blinking. "What the fuck?"

It was--a garden. Except it was impossibly huge. In the misty purple distance, strange steep-sided mountains rose in crowded series against a perfect, cloudless sky. A pebble-paved walk led past sand and rock gardens carefully raked contoured, and then through beds of fern to a round fountain, the water pluming in a rainbow-shimmering half dome and falling back with a sound like gentle rain. Peach trees lined the inner walkway around the fountain, their blossoms fragrant and delicate.

Except this was only the miserable cold butt-end of March. The temperature shouldn't be in the mid-seventies, and peach trees had no business blooming, and there was no way that a shop on Fourth Street could have a garden the size of Rhode Island. "This way," Tao said, beckoning. He led them around the fountain and to a round table of delicate cast-iron filigree. Three garden chairs stood beside it, and on the table a teapot and small delicate cups waited.

"Do be seated," Tao said.

Brenda took a chair, and Casey eased himself down carefully. An iridescent emerald-breasted peacock strolled by, paused to spread its tail and look at them with all the eyes on the tips of the feathers, and then lowered the display and paced away. Smaller birds twittered among the peach tree branches or darted through the air like living gems. "This is nice," Brenda said.

Tao bowed. "Thank you, Miss Duane. I like it. Will you have sugar with your tea?"

"No, thank you," Brenda replied.

Casey shook his head.

"That is good," Tao said in a serious voice, pouring three amber streams. "Americans want to overwhelm the natural flavor with some sweetening agent. You lose all the delicacy, all the nuance, that way."

"What is this?" Casey asked as Tao passed him one of the tiny cups.

"Tea, Mr. Brock. And nothing else. Just green tea, I assure you."

"And there is a tea ceremony?"

Tao smiled. "Oh, yes. I put the water in the microwave, heat it up, and put the teabags in."

"It's good," Brenda said, drinking from her cup.

"Look," Casey said, "this thing they did to my penis--"

"He means his cock," Brenda explained helpfully.

Casey squeezed her hand. "This isn't permanent, is it?"

Tao took a sip of tea. With a smile that looked a bit like a satellite photo of a curved canyon in arid country, he murmured, “Oh, no, no, no, not at all."

"When will it wear off?"

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty-eight," Casey said, sitting back in relief.

Tao nodded. "You should have no more trouble with it after, oh, fifty years. Seventy, tops."

"What!"

"Oh, come, Mr. Brock. You have been given the enviable gift of endowment. Most men would be pleased. You could be very popular at parties."

"I found that out! That's another thing--Cara--"

"That would be the exotic but rather angry young lady who bought the potions from me?"

"Yes, Brenda's roommate, she, she, you know, she--"

"She fucked him," Brenda said with that air of innocent helpfulness. "It was very pretty!"

Casey put a hand over his eyes. "She said she hated me, and then she said she loved me. What the hell is going on?"

Tao deliberately put his cup down. "She told the truth both times, Mr. Brock. The growth potion she used was one you do not ingest. It has to be. . . applied. Manually. With great attention and care. She did it, I am sure, while you slept from the first effects of the potency potion. She had to bare your member, fill the palm of her hand with the growth preparation, which is in the handy form of a light cream, and then slowly, gently, carefully massage it into your skin over a period of about one hour, watching as it took effect. But is it not written, ‘Each effect in the fullness of time becomes also a cause’?” The very process of application establishes feelings between the one who is massaging the preparation in and the one who is the object of the attention. And your new endowment is not merely decorative, you know. It provides a deeply fulfilling experience for any woman who enjoys your attentions, or any man, for--"

"No!" Casey said. "I swear to God, if something like that happens, I will come back here and kill you myself and burn your store to the ground and bulldoze the ashes into the river."

"And yet you did not hesitate to order Brenda into a lesbian relationship with Cara."

"I didn't!" Casey objected. "I never did!"

Tao spread his hands. "Miss Duane, what did Casey tell you last week when he wanted you to spend some time at your apartment?"

Brenda said brightly, "He said, 'Brenda, you have to spend some time at your own place, one or two nights.' And I said, 'Please, I want to make love with you here.' And then he said, 'I want you to go be with Cara.' So I did. I licked her pussy! It was really nice, and then she did me--"

Casey looked at her, appalled. "I meant stay with her," he said.

Tao shook his head. “The fault, you see, is your own, Mr. Brock. You chose to accept the responsibility of making all of Miss Duane’s decisions for her. Her mind is yours to command. If you do not take care to make your wishes known to her in exact detail, I fear you must expect the occasional problem.”

“I didn’t think ‘be with her’ meant ‘go down on her’!”

"Miscommunication. Alas, it is so easy to fall into. However, I do not believe any great harm has been done. True, once the love potion is in a person's system, it may have after effects. When Brenda's tongue parted the delicate folds of Cara's pussy, her saliva awakened feelings of great and lasting affection in her roommate--not control, exactly, but a deep sense of pleasure and devotion. And this may solve your problem, don’t you see?”

“Make it clear,” Casey replied.

Tao spread his long-fingered hands. “You would not order Brenda to leap from a window. You might, however, order her to become Cara’s love slave. True, she would still be susceptible to your control if you gave her any further orders, but she would obey. They would be happy.”

“Cara suggested that if Brenda were. . . free again, she might not choose me, she might . . . want to be with Cara instead. That’s one thing. But to order her to be Cara’s property, no. I don’t want that. I didn’t want your damn potion to turn Brenda into a lesbian.”

“But neither of them truly is a committed lesbian. They are simply. . . closer now, more at ease with each other and with their sexuality. If the first plan does not appeal, the second surely must: Now you may have both of them, Mr. Brock."

"I don't want both of them! Just Brenda. And I don't want this big honking cock!"

"Why not?"

"It's too damn sensitive! What if I got a hard-on at work? I couldn’t hide it, and I'd have to get off somehow to make it go down--"

"I'll suck it," Brenda said eagerly. "Or you can fuck me."

"Problem solved," Tao said.

"But that's not the point!" Casey threw his cup at the fountain. It splashed into the water. "I feel tricked, I feel used!"

Tao poured himself another cup of tea. "Brenda, do you feel tricked or used because Mr. Brock gave you one of my potions?"

"Oh, no!” Brenda smiled at Casey and stroked his cheek. “I feel so lucky. He cared for me and wanted me, and he gives me so much more than I ever had before! I love it when he commands me to be his slave. Especially now with his cock so big!"

"There you are, Mr. Brock. Is it not written, 'Damn, but karma can be a real bitch'? By the way, did the potency potion work? Were your ejaculations more memorable than formerly?"

"Was that what they put in the wine that made me first sleepy and then helpless?"

Brenda giggled and nodded.

"It worked," he said. "But I couldn't move. I was paralyzed! I thought she'd fed me some of the damn chocolates with the love stuff in them."

"There would have been no effect," Tao said. "I did not tell the lady so, but that particular potion is prepared to be gender specific. The batch I sold you could affect only females. Had Cara bought one to use on you, I would have altered the formula to affect males. Of course, that is very expensive, and I suspect she did not wish to spend that much money. For that matter, I do not think she would have particularly wanted you to be her devoted slave. She wished only to teach you a lesson, and I convinced her that using you for her own sexual gratification, against your will of course, might just do it."

"She loved it when you fucked her," Brenda said. "And you got her over that asshole Dave. I want you to make love with us both again, please. Make both of us come with your hot hard cock! Let me lick your cum from her pussy. Oh, I love it so!"

"You see," Tao said with a smile. "I have the feeling that I have done you all an . . . enormous favor."

"Thank you," Casey said, the words dripping with sarcasm.

"You are most welcome," Tao said with a polite bow, as if he completely missed the tone. "Now, about my project. . . ."

Casey gave up and discussed plans with Tao, while peacocks stalked the undergrowth in the garden, while small golden fish leaped in the fountain, and while the unfamiliar tube of limp flesh hanging on the inside of his left leg felt strange and alien.
* * *

“Do we have to do this?” Casey asked that afternoon in the back of a black limousine with windows so darkly tinted it might have been three in the morning.

“I think it is advisable,” Tao responded. “The Instant Orgy Candle is my biggest seller. Very inexpensive, only ten dollars for a package of three. No one really believes they will work. Everyone who purchases a package thinks they are something like incense or--” Tao’s lip curled in a cultured sort of sneer--“aromatherapy. But you know my preparations always have the advertised effect, Mr. Brock. I want your objective opinion. You see, after considerable thought I added an ingredient to the wax that induces forgetfulness, a kind of amnesia. After enjoying the effects of the candles, the purchaser forgets most of the experience and is left merely with a warm, content sense of utter fulfillment. Alas, I suspect that costs me much repeat business. Here. You and Brenda need to place one of these under your tongue and just let it dissolve.” Tao held out a flat tin of small white tablets. Brenda took one and slipped it into her mouth. Casey tweezed one of the little lozenges between forefinger and thumb, suspiciously. “What are these?”

“Breath mints,” Tao said, closing the lid. “Go ahead.”

Casey tucked the mint beneath his tongue. It tasted of peppermint. “I thought you might have put something in them.”

“Oh, I did--dear me, that nearly hit my cheek.” Tao opened the tin again and said, “Take another, please. It is simply a counteragent for the amnesia-inducing ingredient in the candles. You are consultants, and you will need to remember. Is it not written, ‘Where the hell did I put my keys, lose my own head next’?”

Casey sighed. You take the blue pill, you wind up in hellish trouble, you take the red pill, you wind up in a different kind of hellish trouble. He tucked a second mint beneath his tongue and let it dissolve.

“Very good,” Tao said.

“I notice you’re not having one,” Casey replied with an accusing glare.

“I dabble about with the ingredients so much that I am quite immune to their effects. Fortunately. If I were susceptible to the growth potion, I should by this point in my career spend my days face-down atop a very embarrassing sort of mattress. However, to prove my good will, here, choose one for me.”

Casey took another mint at random and gave it to Tao, who popped it under his tongue--he pointed his tongue and curled it back to reveal the little white pill in place there--and then closed the tin. “Good. Now, the occasion is this: A young man who works for a gymnasium purchased my candles. They are having a staff party this afternoon: six young women, six young men. We will be welcomed, and then you will observe the effects of my preparation and advise me whether or not I should omit the element of forgetfulness in my next batch of candles.”

The limo braked to a halt, and they climbed out into a gusty, gritty, cold wind. Tao, wearing a felt hat and a long brown overcoat, bent for a moment to speak to the driver. Brenda huddled down into her winter coat, and Casey stood hunched against the wind. Tao turned and gestured them toward an alley. “The establishment is closed for this afternoon. We will go in the back way.”

He led them to a door, which Casey tried and found locked. “Should we knock?”

Tao reached past him and pulled the handle. The door swung smoothly open. “No need.”

They walked down an echoing hall toward the sound of music. “Ah,” Tao said. “The staff party is already under way.”

Double doors led into a room floored with exercise mats. A boom box pulsed with a techno beat. The room was dim, illuminated only by three candles that had been put into the mouths of empty wine bottles and that now wore a coat of their own drippings. “Oh, my,” Brenda said.

Muscular, sweaty, good-looking people were fucking their brains out. A dazzling big-busted blonde on hands and knees was sucking the cock of a guy with a buzz cut, while behind her another guy in a spiky haircut was thrusting into her, his head thrown back, both his hands grasping her ass cheeks. She writhed, her swinging breasts throbbing with her efforts.

Next to them, two other girls, one blond, one black, were sixty-nining each other, fingers busy at slits, pink tongues lapping eagerly. On the left, a stunning redhead hunkered, legs bent, balancing on the balls of her bare feet, grasping a cock in each hand. Her body had been oiled, and it glistened in the candle light. She sucked one as she pumped the other, and then turned her head to suck the other one. The two guys, one black and one a shaved-headed bodybuilder, encouraged her and groaned. Her pussy gleamed in the warm light, her spread thighs holding it open, wet, and ready, and Casey saw a big drop of clear oil ooze its way down her labia and then drip to the mat, landing in a small pool of mingled body oil and pussy juice.

On another mat, a boy was standing with bent legs over a girl who lay mostly on her shoulders, her ass in the air and her legs spread wide, her coccyx pressed against the man’s upper thigh. The guy forced his stiff cock down at an angle with his fingers and pounded into her pussy like a pile driver. The last couple, almost sweetly, lay locked in a missionary position, her legs hooked around his, her hands clenching his butt, as if she were trying to pull him inside her.

“Oh, God,” Casey said, feeling his monstrous cock hardening. “I thought we were immune!”

“To the amnesia-inducing component only,” Tao said complacently. “You will probably feel a little stimulation from the aphrodisiacs. Enjoy yourself. I am used to it all and will merely observe. Is it not written, ‘He who observes is a student, he who indulges is a pervert’? I will be around.”

“Casey,” whimpered Brenda. “Oh, Casey I c-can’t s-stand it--”

“I know,” he said thickly. “Fuck me, Brenda!”

“Thank you!”

She ripped her clothes off, and then tore at his sweats. He tugged his shoes off and kicked them away still tied and laced, and then he got tangled in his shirt and undershirt as he felt Brenda’s hands close beneath the head of his hugely engorged cock, felt her hot lips and tongue working their magic. She was moaning in heightened urgency.

He freed himself from the damn clothes and followed her as she fell back, hanging onto his cock. “Let me--let me fuck your tits!” he said hoarsely.

“Yes! Fuck my tits! Shoot your cum on my face, in my mouth!” Brenda pressed her breasts together, a warm bun for his hot member, so soft, so yielding. “Fuck!” she urged, groaning. “Fuck my tits!”

He was already thrusting, his cock so long that when he pressed upward she could catch the head in her lips and polish it with her burning tongue. God, it felt so wonderful, it broke his heart that she was so eager to do this, to take him in public, openly, to--“I’m coming!” he yelled, and she followed his retreating cock, raising her head to keep her lips in place, taking the blast of his cum in her mouth and across her lips and chin.

“Now tell me to fuck you,” she said in a voice blurred by the coating of cum on her tongue. “I’ll die if I don’t fuck you right now!”

Casey’s massive erection had not diminished. The damn potency potion, or maybe the damn candles. He rolled onto his back. “Ride me,” he said. “Let me see you as I fuck you. Come on and ride me, Brenda!”

She threw her leg across him, grasped his penis, and with a yelp of pleasure forced herself down its length, enveloping him, squeezing him. Warm drops of his own cum dripped from her chin. She wiped it off with her fingers and then licked them. “Mm! Oh, it’s good, it’s so good!”

Casey gasped. “I love watching your tits when you fuck me,” he growled. “I love your hot body, the way your pussy holds me so tight!”

Their mindless writhing had placed them close to the redhead who was servicing two cocks with her mouth. Brenda reached out and began to flick her fingers at the woman’s oiled clit. The woman gasped, and in the midst of a turn from one cock to another, with a cum-dripping mouth she said, “Faster, oh, God, do me faster,” and then she had the other cock in her mouth and a white stream of cum was running over the back of her hand from the first one, and the second blasted into her mouth, a gush of cum jetting from one corner. Casey saw that Brenda had managed to insert her thumb into the redhead’s slit, and the woman was fucking her thumb, thrusting, pumping.

“Harder,” Brenda groaned, and Casey, completely out of control, driving for his own release, thrust his enlarged cock as deep into her as he could, feeling the tight hot clutch of her, the slippery clench of her muscles.

“Come for me,” he said, and Brenda did, screaming.

It took all of his willpower to drag Brenda out of there, their clothes and shoes wadded and bundled under his arm. She kept offering him to the other girls, showing off his cock, and they wanted him, would have all but devoured him--

But somehow, he fucked only Brenda. They found the showers and washed themselves, and he fucked her standing in the hot flow of water, with her arching her back, her tits wet and glistening, the nipples hard and jutting with demanding desire, and she came again, and he came with her. He toweled her dry, his hands shaking, and ordered her, commanded her to get dressed. She had worn no panties, and the skirt she had chosen was short, too short for the cold day, and she kept reaching beneath it, moaning. He got into his own clothes, more or less, trapping his erect cock against his stomach. It protruded above the waistband of the sweats, and he tugged his shirt down to cover it. He could hardly walk.

Tao stood waiting for them next to the alley door. “You see my problem,” he said calmly. “They have a lot of fun, but so few of them return for a second purchase. Now, should I change the formula--?”

“Get us out of this damn place,” Casey said. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Certainly.” Tao opened the door and led them to the curb, where the purring limo had pulled up again. Tao opened the door and said, “I believe I will ride up front with the driver. You two may have some energy to work off yet.”

Casey growled at him, pushed Brenda in, and as soon as the door had closed behind him, he had turned her over on the floor of the car and was behind her, doggie-style.

“Mount me!” Brenda said deliriously. “I love your hard cock pounding into me from behind!”

“Fuck me,” Casey rasped, and Brenda thrust back, her already wet pussy welcoming his enormous cock.

They fucked their way through afternoon traffic, and Casey, angry, afraid, wondered if this, oh, God! So good!, if this was really what he had wanted.

7

"I keep thinking about Cara," Casey said. He stood at the office window, staring moodily down at the street below. Everything looked gray in a dreary steady spring drizzle. Cars with headlights on glistened and scuttled, and pedestrians hugged their raincoats or clutched their dripping umbrellas as they hurried along. “We’ve got to do something about Cara before she causes trouble.”

"I know," Brenda agreed sadly. "Whenever I stay at the apartment now, I sleep in her bed and make her come, just the way you told me, but she's still not happy. She doesn't like you, though she loves it when you fuck her. You could give her the potion--"

"I don't think so," Casey muttered. He had already discovered that he did not like brainless bimbos. Brenda was barely functional as an adult now, in mid-April, and he felt exhausted from the constant effort of re-training her and then re-training again when her ability began to slip, as it always seemed to do. "Can't you just move out?" he asked Brenda.

"If you order me to, I will," Brenda returned promptly with her warmest smile. "I love you so much! But Cara needs me right now. And she knows all about the shop, so she might do something."

Casey nodded wearily and sank into his chair. He swiveled, facing away from his computer. "Well, at least we've finished the Glen Verde project. If we could just wrap up the Tao's Curios assignments, we could, I don't know, take a vacation or something."

Brenda crossed to him, sat in his lap, and stroked his hair. "I loved the candles," she giggled. "Buy some and order me to use them!"

He kissed her. "I don't think you need them. You're always horny anyway."

She stirred, rubbing her ass on his stiffening cock. "Mm. You, too."

"Let me lock the door."

It had become part of the work routine: get to work, check the emails, attend the morning meeting, and fuck Brenda. One good workout in the morning kept her placid all day, and usually it kept Casey from getting an unconcealable erection later on in the day. Brenda had undressed by the time Casey turned from the door. She had been wearing a loose dress, nothing under it but garter belt and stockings--she loved to wrap those beautiful stockinged legs around his waist, clasping him tight, tight against her. And she looked so sexy like that, with her shaved pussy and her long, long legs, the garter belt riding low, beneath her slightly pouched tummy. "How do you want me?" she whispered.

"You choose. I order you to choose."

Her eyes went dreamy, and her smile became wicked. "Mm. First make me come with your tongue, please. And then lie on the floor and let me ride you! Please? May I?"

He smiled at her and backed her against a wall. He leaned into her, pressing against her pert, soft breasts, kissing her deeply, exploring her tongue with his. She was breathing hard, her hands working at his belt, unbuckling it. He let his trousers fall, kicked off his shoes, and stepped out of them, his cock hardening and thrusting against the soft silk material of his boxers, the only underwear he could stand with the new, startling sensitivity his enlarged cock had developed. He teased Brenda, sliding his moist lips down her throat, feeling the pulse, touching it with his tongue. "Yes," she moaned.

Lower still, and he cupped first her right breast and then her left, suckling the firm nipples, teasing them. They responded with an insistent pulsation, and Brenda's hands were on his shoulders, urging him to go lower still. He licked his way down her belly, lingered to thrust his tongue into her navel, wriggling it and making her shudder, and then he knelt before her, her pink pussy next to his face. She lifted her right leg and hooked it over his left shoulder, then reached down with her hands and held her pussy open for him, wet and gleaming, the clit swollen in its pink hood, ready, just begging for the caress of his tongue. Casey licked her slowly, deliberately, maddeningly, back to front, and then sucked on the pink bud of her sexual trigger. Brenda was going wild, making eager humming grunts deep in her throat. He murmured into her cunt, "Come now."

And she did, gushing with pussy juice, her whole body jerking beyond her control. "Fuck me," he said. He lay on the carpet, shucking his shorts down. "Fuck me now."

"Yesss." She turned and knelt astride him, her wonderful bouncy ass toward him. He loved the roundness of it, the sexy contrast of the black garter belt against her creamy skin, and he reached to grasp her hips. She had seized his cock and was positioning it, and then slowly, lingeringly, she slid herself down his pole, the enormous head parting her delicate labia, then slipping into the hotter, wetter depths. "Oh," she moaned. "It's so good, Casey! Oh, thank you! It's so good!"

"Play with your tits," he ordered, and she threw her head back in wanton abandon, running her hands over her breasts, fondling them, pulling and pinching the nipples. Her fine ass pistoned up and down, faster and faster, and Casey saw the glistening shaft of his cock as she rose high, almost off it, and then reversed and plunged down, a pink ring of tissue surrounding his cock, welcoming it, and tightening on it. He put a thumb over Brenda's pink puckered asshole and felt her quiver. He began to tap with his thumb as she rose and descended, and the sensation again made her shudder, made her breath come in hard gasps: huh-hun-hunnh. He penetrated her with his thumb and felt through the tissue wall his own cock, hard and stiff, stuffing her pussy. Brenda began to make a sound like a kitten, and then like a teakettle just hitting a boil: "Eeeeeeee…."

Casey felt his own orgasm building and when he could hold back no longer, he said, "Come now, Brenda!"

She thrust down so hard that he felt the pressure in his pubic bone, and she reached to cuddle his balls with one hand, her other hand still flicking at her nipples, and she came silently, her pussy clutching, milking his cock, urging him to shoot his load deep inside her. When he did, the hot jets of cum brought her to a secondary peak, and then, gasping, gurgling, cooing, she rode the explosion of sensation down, down, like a wonderful sled ride. At last she rose from him, her pussy leaking white streams of cum. "Thank you," she said humbly. "That was wonderful."

"Let's get cleaned up," Casey said. "We need to unlock the door before people start to talk."

She cleaned his cock with her mouth, and then she wet a towel with warm water from the office's small bathroom and knelt before him, washing him, admiring his cock. She finished by wiping his cum from the inside of her thighs. By the time they were both dressed again, no one would have guessed what they had been doing.

Casey hoped.
* * *

April, as Mr. Eliot memorably wrote, is the cruelest month.

Trennon gave the staff the word at a Friday morning meeting.

"What?" Phil Tate asked in outraged astonishment. "The whole office?"

Trennon shrugged and spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Believe me, people, I tried to make that point with the home office. We've shown a profit every year. But they've decided to concentrate on six areas: New York, L.A., Chicago, St. Louis, Houston, and San Francisco. All of the other offices, including this one, will be closed as of the first of June."

"So we're all out of a job?" Phil asked, his face beet red. "Man, I can't believe this shit!"

The others murmured their agreement with him, and Trennon held up a placating hand. "Some of us can transfer," he said. "I'll be working out of New York. Anyone who's senior level will have first refusal of transfers. Everyone who’s not picked up to move to a different office will get the standard severance, three month’s pay, plus a bonus. We'll also try to help you get placed in new positions with other firms.”

Linda Clay, an administrative assistant in her late thirties, said cynically, “What are the chances of that in this job market? Slim to none?”

Over the rising tide of mutters, Trennon cut in: “People, what can I say? Believe me, if it were up to me, you’d all keep your jobs. It's not my idea. This office has been successful since we first opened it ten years ago."

But no one heard him. No one was happy.
* * *

"You could move," Casey said bitterly. “You’re senior staff.”

"No." Brenda clung tight to him, her head on his chest. "I won't move. I'll stay with you." They lay on Casey’s bed. Late-afternoon sun slanted in through the window, making a barred pattern across their naked bodies.

"I could move, too," Casey pointed out. "I just wouldn't have a damn job, is all. You’d have to support us."

"I'll make enough money for both of us," Brenda said. "You could order me to work harder, and I'd do it."

Casey shook his head. "That’s not even possible. You know how you keep getting into difficulty. I'd have to be in the office with you to make sure you could handle everything. No, we'll have to think of something else, that's all."

"Cara," Brenda said. "You could give her the potion and turn her into a whore! She'd bring in lots of money, she's so sexy--"

"I don't think so," Casey said. Making a wry face, he added, "Is it not written, 'Damn, but karma can be a real bitch'?"

"Huh?"

Casey stroked her soft breast. "It's okay; it's something that damn crazy Tao said."

"We're supposed to meet him Monday," Brenda reminded Casey. "We've got our recommendations to give him."

"Yeah." Modernize the sales facility. Place discreet ads in upscale media. Start a program: bring in a friend, get a free potion. It was a workable business model, but the damndest one Casey had ever helped to devise. And of course Tao would ignore it. "He never wanted us to help him out anyway," Casey said. "He just wanted to play with us, to observe us, to get us involved with his weird potions and shit."

Brenda put her own hand over Casey's and pressed it against her breast. "I'd like to try the growth one," she said wistfully. "Cara's got such nice big round boobs. Mine are so small next to hers."

"You're perfect," Casey said. "And Cara's a bitch."

"Yeah, she is," agreed Brenda. "Sexy, though. We went at each other with vibrators the other night. God, she's so good in bed! I wish she liked you. Does she fuck good?”

“She’s okay,” Casey said. “You ought to know. You’ve fucked her more than I have!”

“But it’s different for a man. Does she make your cock feel good? I know she loves your great big cock! I just wish she liked you, and then we could all be together and be happy. Are you sure you couldn't slip her just a drop of--"

"I've got too many other problems right now," Casey replied. He felt the soft flutter of Brenda’s fingers on his cock. He didn’t want to lose her. He never wanted to lose her. And he couldn’t afford to let her take the company’s offer of a transfer to New York or L.A., the two places where they could use her. Not when he couldn’t work right beside her, anyway.

He didn't speak again to Brenda of his main worry: Brenda had trouble holding onto the ground she had gained. After all his exhaustive step-by-step retraining, she sometimes still completely lost the thread of what she was doing at work, couldn't remember how to boot the computer or use a program she had been trained in for years. In interviews she sometimes would go blank, all of a sudden, and he'd have to slip in and rescue her, taking over the questions and giving her sly commands so that she'd recover. She was more nearly herself, but she wasn't fully herself. And Tao, damn his wrinkled hide, had no helpful suggestions to make, other than to tell Casey to research other potions.

Damn it, he wasn't a chemist or an--an alchemist, wizard, whatever Tao was. He had almost, almost come to terms with his changed world since Valentine's day, could just about navigate himself and the semi-dazed Brenda through each day, and then life threw him a curve like this.

There were other consultancies, and Casey knew he'd get a good recommendation from Trennon. Hell, he could order Brenda, technically his immediate supervisor, to write him a letter that claimed he could walk on water. But he also knew that times were tough in his particular business and that job openings were few. And he didn't want to relocate. He had been born in this city, he'd lived here all his life, and he was comfortable here. His baseball team was here. His roots were deep under the concrete of these streets.

But supporting himself and Brenda. . . that was going to be a problem. Oh, they had her savings, and that would carry them for a year, maybe, but then?

"Please fuck me?" Brenda asked in a small, timid voice, her palm cupped on the head of his cock, softly rolling, rubbing, stimulating.

"Okay," he said. That was one thing he could do right. “Spread your legs wide,” he commanded, and she cheerfully obeyed.
* * *

After Casey spent all weekend worrying, Sunday night everything came to a head. Brenda was preparing a meal for them, nothing spectacular, just a salad and a steak. Casey was sitting at his computer printing out the final report for Tao's Curios--full color, 150 pages, three-ring binders, three copies, might as well give Tao the deluxe treatment--when he heard Brenda wail, "Help!"

Casey jumped up, smelling smoke, and raced from the bedroom to the kitchen. Brenda stood there, hands hanging at her side, staring helplessly at the stove top. On the grill, two steaks were rapidly turning into charcoal. Orange flames flickered. Smoke boiled up.

Casey reached to switch off the stove. "What's wrong?"

"What am I supposed to do?" Brenda asked. "The--the things started to smoke, and flames and--and you didn't order me and I don't know how to make the--the thing get cool again, and do you want to fuck me now?"

"The steaks? You didn't know you were supposed to turn the damn heat down?" Casey grabbed a kitchen mitt and moved the grill to the sink. He dumped the smoldering, ruined steaks in and ran water over them. They hissed.

"Order me to suck your cock," Brenda pled, her voice breaking with misery. "Or you can do me in the ass. I'm sorry, Casey. I--I forgot how to do it. You weren't here to tell me. I'm so sorry, Casey. Fuck me. Make me do any dirty thing you want. Please. Just don't be mad. Please."

Casey looked at her wretched, miserable expression and thought, I did this to you.

Aloud he said, "I'll order you to fuck me later, Brenda. Sit down at the table. I'll make us something to eat." He reached for a box of spaghetti.

She wouldn't meet his gaze at dinner, but stared mutely, heart-brokenly down at her plate. She kept offering herself and murmuring, "I'm sorry I forgot."

They turned in early, and, yes, Casey had her please him in different ways, and she got some of her bounce back, giggling and purring and snuggling up against him like an affectionate and innocent kitten.

But Casey knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep. He finally dozed sometime after three a.m., and fell into a ghastly dream in which somehow Brenda caught fire. He chased her, trying to extinguish the flames, but she didn’t understand and fled from him, screaming in terror and agony, and her skin charred and fell from the bone in smoldering lumps, and he stepped on one and it was as slippery as soap, and ahead she collapsed and writhed and died horribly--

“No!” Casey woke himself up shouting.

“What’s wrong?” Brenda asked. “Casey, what’s the matter?” She sounded frightened.

He was shaking and weeping. “I--just a dream,” he gasped. “A nightmare.”

She kissed him, murmuring “Poor Casey!” He felt her hot lips on his mouth, on his cheek, on his eyes.

And then she gasped and pushed away from him. “My God!” she said. “I remember!”

“What?” he asked, sitting up and switching on the lamp. It was seven in the morning.

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “Everything,” she whispered. “You--you put me under a spell! You made me have to obey you! Oh, Casey, how could you?”

“Brenda?” he asked, stunned.

She tugged the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her. “Casey, you--you forced me. And you, you made me want to, to lick Cara, to fuck another woman! I remember it all now!”

“What happened?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I--I have to have some time. I can’t think. I have to sort this all out. Casey, I--I love you, but I--I’m afraid, I--”

Firmly, he said, “Brenda, drop the sheet. Show me your tits.”

She shivered, but she did as he told her. “Yes, master, ” she said flatly. She stood naked. Her eyes were dull, without life, without the bubbling glee that she had shown ever since he had given her the potion.

“I don’t want it to be this way,” he said. “Brenda, what do you want?”

“I want to go home,” she said in a small voice. “I want to go to my own apartment and have some time to think. And I don’t want to ha-have to fu-fuck Cara or, or--”

“Take your shower and get dressed,” Casey said wearily. “Then go to your apartment. Take your time and think it all over.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

April. The cruelest month.

Got it, Mr. E.

8

“Extraordinary,” Tao said when Casey told him what had happened. “So you did find an antidote after all.”

“What?”

“You said she kissed your eyes,” Tao reminded him. He smiled. “Is it not written ‘Tears come at the end of grief, in the midst of anger, and at the beginning of joy’?”

“I don’t know,” Casey said. “Is it?”

Tao shrugged. “Who the fuck knows? That’s why I always ask. Saves me a hell of a lot of reading.”

“Well. There’s your report. I’m leaving now.”

“Please stay.”

They were in the weird garden, the peacock-infested, balmy, impossible garden behind Tao’s Curios. Tao had the stack of binders on the table in front of him.

“What are you going to do to me now?” Casey asked.

“Not a thing.” Tao caressed the top binder with his long fingers. “So. This is a business plan that will allow my humble emporium to expand and prosper, is it?”

“I believe it is,” Casey said. “Is it not written, ‘It’s worth a shot’?”

Tao threw back his head and laughed. “Excellent! Well, in that case, then all of the measures you suggest are certainly adopted. My dear Mr. Brock, please sit down again. I still have a few things that you might like to hear.”

Casey sighed and sat down in the filigree chair. The fountain made its sound of soft rain, and the blossoms of the peach trees perfumed the balmy air. “I don’t think you could say anything I want to hear,” he told Tao.

“May I say that I think you have learned a few things? How do you feel now that Brenda is herself again?”

“How the hell do you think I feel?” Casey demanded. “I’m angry at myself, I’m ashamed, and I’m goddam miserable, if you want to know the truth.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Casey yelled. “Why!? Because I love her, you dumb son of a bitch!”

“You what?”

Casey felt a jolt like electricity. “I. . . love her,” he whispered, wonderingly.

“My potions are most effective,” Tao said with a smile. You did purchase, if you recall, a love potion.”

“But, but I only wanted--”

“She will still have to obey you,” Tao said. “That has not changed. That will never change. But if you tell her what you just told me, that is more magical than any potion I could brew. Tell her those words, and she is yours forever. Her joy at obedience will return. Her wanton lust will, if anything, only increase.”

“I. . . I don’t know.”

Tao made a tent of his fingers. “I know. Comfort yourself, Mr. Brock. Brenda was born to obey a dominant man she adores. It is her destiny, her greatest happiness. And now that you have confessed your feelings, you will be a good and kind master. The two of you will bring much joy into a world that, alas, has little enough of that precious commodity.” Tao reached to the pocket of his orange Hawaiian shirt and took out a cell phone. “Here.” He tossed it to Casey, who made a spectacular one-handed catch. “Call her. Tell her to come over, now, and to bring Cara with her. We must not forget Cara.”

“Why should I?” Casey asked, still fighting his own suspicions.

“Because I am about to make you an offer that involves the two of them, and you are going to want to pursue it. Please. What can you lose?”

Casey thumbed in the number. Cara answered. “Let me talk to Brenda,” he said.

“You son of a bitch!”

“Cara,” Casey said, “please let me talk to her. I love her.”

Silence for a long ten count. Then Cara growled, “I’ll get her.”

Brenda came to the phone: “Hello, Casey?”

“Listen,” Casey said. “I’m at Tao’s. You are to come here right away. Get Cara to come with you. This is important. And Brenda--I love you.”

“Give us half an hour,” Brenda whispered.

Casey handed the cell phone back to Tao. “What’s up your sleeve?” he asked.

Tao said, “Well, now that the shop is being modernized, brought up to speed, put into an exciting synergy with a developing urban market, I thought I’d franchise. To tell you the honest truth, I’ve been in this city a good long time now. Before I moved my operation here, I had a nice, cozy little place in New Orleans. I loved that run-down little shop. I hated it when I had to leave because of all the trouble.”

“The hurricanes and floods?”

Tao shook his head. “War of 1812. That Jean Lafitte still owes me three thousand Yankee dollars, and that’s three thousand I shall never see.” He sighed. “But let us have some tea and wait for Miss Duane and her roommate before we discuss the sordid affairs of the business world.
* * *

“You want to give the shop to us?” Casey asked. Brenda reached for his hand and squeezed it.

“You showed an amazing firmness of purpose,” Tao said. “You have a great deal of ability, Mr. Brock, and Miss Duane and the charming Miss Tauhiti are extremely talented at business. You will run my shop here for me, and you may keep all the profits. All of them. I don’t much care for too much money. It makes me slow and lethargic.”

“But I can’t make potions,” Casey objected.

“And I can’t stand him!” Cara added.

“Come,” Tao said, leading them out of the garden and into the shop.

Well. . . .

Into a changed shop.

No longer dark and musty, the place gleamed. Chic art adorned the walls; the shelves were chrome and glass, with cunning indirect light. It looked like the sort of place where the millionaires’ wives from the east side shopped. Better, it looked like the sort of place where their mistresses shopped.

“I’m not going to ask how you did this,” Casey said.

“That’s good, because I didn’t plan to tell you,” retorted Tao. “Come.”

In the area behind the counter, he showed them what looked like a wall safe. “I will know what potions you need,” he said. “And they will appear here. Simply open the little door, like this--” he spun the dial and tugged--“and whatever you are about to sell will appear. And they are all guaranteed to work, of course.”

“But I still don’t like him,” Cara said.

“Ah.” Tao closed the door. Then he opened it again and took out a tiny bottle, not an inch tall. “Then you need to drink this love potion, Miss Tauhiti.”

“And become his goddam slave?” she roared.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But it will allow you to be with Brenda, whom you dearly love. And you will be happy, believe me. Take this. You may decide to drink it, or you may throw it away. Come! Something else!”

He led them to a door that opened onto a dingy flight of stairs. Up a level, through another door--“You may live here,” Tao said.

“Oh!” Brenda gasped.

It was a magnificent apartment, light and airy and, like the garden out back, far too large to fit the shop at 123 Fourth Street. A clear blue swimming pool, a bathroom with a shower big enough to throw a party in, luxurious carpeting, a bedroom featuring a bed that was at least emperor sized, wonderful.

“Rent free,” Tao said.

“Why?” Casey asked again.

“Because you can learn, Mr. Brock. Because I am weary of this place and want to move on. Because there are people who will come in selfishly wanting something and I can trust the three of you to divine what those people truly need--and to give it to them.”

“Brenda?” Cara asked in an uncertain voice. “Do you think we should--?”

“Yes,” Brenda said. “I love Casey. I’d already decided to come back to him. But I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you!”

Cara still looked doubtful.

“I will add only this last inducement,” Tao said. “In this place, the shop, the garden, time does not flow as it does in the rest of the world. I have been around for--well, for many, many generations. You are young. You could have a long, long, wonderful time ahead of you, with no fear of growing old.” He winked a glittering eye. “Also, you get free potions! You want nice big titties, you get ‘em, you bet!”

“Say yes,” Brenda murmured.

Gazing into Casey’s eyes with a glare of defiance, Cara uncorked the tiny bottle and tilted the contents onto her tongue.
* * *

“This is it?” Brenda asked in tones of delight, holding a small heart-shaped bottle full of a red liquid.

“This is it,” Tao said. “Half for you, half for Cara. I wouldn’t advise you ever trying more of it, though. You could develop serious spinal problems.”

“Casey,” wheedled Brenda. “Casey, may I? Please?”

Casey sighed. “Give half the potion to Cara, and drink half of it yourself,” he said.

Cara was fast asleep, on the oddest piece of furniture Casey had ever seen. It was like a very short bed, with a projecting, rounded protrusion like a gym horse coming straight out of the foot. Brenda had undressed Cara, and she lay on her back, her legs spread lewdly, her breasts rising and falling as she breathed.

Carefully, Brenda opened the bottle and dribbled the red liquid into Cara’s slightly open mouth. Cara smacked her lips and swallowed.

“You see,” Tao said in a tone of satisfaction. “I make good potions.”

Cara’s already full breasts were. . . inflating. Growing. The nipples enlarged, projecting, darkening. “Spectacular,” Casey said, feeling his own enlarged member beginning to twitch.

Tao clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well, you young people have everything you need, so I will bid you adieu. I shall check in from time to time. Serve your clients well, and as they deserve. Goodbye, Casey. Goodbye, Brenda. Pay my respects the the lovely Cara.”

He glided, no, shimmered through the door and into the stairwell. Casey shut the door. “I’ll be damned,” he said.

He turned. Brenda was about to drink the potion. “Wait,” he said. “Undress.”

“Yes,” she said with a wicked grin. When she stood naked before him, she raised the bottle as though she were toasting their future together, and then she drank the liquid. “Yum! It’s tangy and sweet and--oh, my!”

Her tits swelled, the nipples thrusting wantonly. “Oh, Casey, they’re so, so big!” She ran a palm over them. “And so sensitive! Oh, order me to fuck you right now, please! I can’t wait!”

“First suck me,” he said. “And then you have to kiss Cara. Just like we planned once before.”

“Yes!”

She dropped to her knees. Playfully, she trapped Casey’s huge rod between her enlarged tits, so warm and pliant, and he fucked her tits. She came just from that, without his even ordering her to come, and then she lowered her head and stretched her mouth open and sucked happily at his cock. He groaned and shot a huge load of cum. She scrambled up immediately, ran to Cara, and kissed her, dribbling into her mouth Casey’s cum mingled with her own saliva.

Cara murmured, opened her eyes, and giggled. “Oh, I feel wonderful!” She looked past Brenda at Casey. “Oh, thank you,” she said. “I love you! Tell me what to do!”

Cara will not be like Brenda, Tao had promised. If she takes the potion willingly, she will remain herself. . . but she will become your love slave, and Brenda’s. That is what she truly wants.

“Lie back,” Casey said. “Brenda, here, get across this.” Brenda lay along the gym-horse protrusion from the foot of the bed, her big tits dangling, her ass high. “Now you eat out Cara and make her come, and I’ll fuck you from behind.”

“Yes!” Brenda said, delighted. “Fuck me hard, and then you can fuck Cara.”

“Fuck us both,” Cara added. “Please!”

By then Brenda was eagerly lapping her cunt, and Cara arched her back, cooing with ecstasy as she discovered her new tits, pinching the nipples, rolling them, gasping in pleasure.

Casey rubbed the head of his cock against Brenda’s wet slit and then pressed into her, causing her to murmur with excitement as she buried her face in Cara’s slit.

The odd piece of furniture had been exquisitely designed for just this kind of play.
* * *

A plain but expensively dressed woman, her pale brown hair lackluster, her brown eyes nearly hidden behind thick glasses, crept into the shop like a timid mouse.

She looked around, blushing. The man behind the counter was handsome, assured, his face knowing, perhaps with even a suggestion of cruelty in his eyes. He wore an open-collared shirt under a black jacket. “Welcome to Tao’s Curios,” he said, his voice a sensual rumbling purr.

“May I be of service?” asked a woman so close that the customer started and yelped.

“I didn’t see you,” she said, but she certainly saw her now, a dusky, black-haired beauty, with breasts that obviously were not confined in a bra bobbing beneath a strangely exciting top of white silk. It was almost as though the woman were wearing. . . a liquid, so thin, so clinging.

Another woman, red-haired and with startling blue eyes, and, yes, big, big breasts, their pink jutting nipples clearly showing beneath her own white silk top, came over and thoughtfully tapped her chin with her finger. “Hmm. You need. . . to change your hair. I changed mine, we have a potion for that. Would you like to be a redhead, like this? No, blonde, right?”

“Well,” the woman said nervously, “I had thought about--but you know, dye is so harsh and--but really, the reason I came in is that I have a friend who said--and she used to be, you know, flat--”

“You’re about, what, a 32B?” the first woman, the exotic one asked. “We have a potion for that. You can have a much bigger bust.”

“I would like that, but I’m afraid of surgery, you know, and--and could I be blonde? Really? Without dyeing my hair?

“Absolutely. We have potions for all that. And there’s something else,” the red-haired woman said, her voice intimate and knowing. “A young man.”

The customer’s face flamed. “Well, yes. He doesn’t even know I’m alive,” she said. “I have plenty of money, but I’ve never been attractive, never felt. . . desirable.”

“We have potions for that, too” the exotic woman said. “He will be your slave. You can command him to do anything to you. Everything. He will obey. He will have no choice. You will be his mistress, you will control him.”

“You will dominate him,” the redhead said, her voice soft, her breath sweet and spiced with some odd, alluring scent.

The man had not yet spoken, but now he did: “You want a love potion,” he said, his voice so knowing and manly that it made the customer feel a little weak in the knees.

“. . . Yes.”

He smiled. God, he was so roguish, so attractive. “That is expensive. It costs seven thousand five hundred dollars. But it’s guaranteed to work.”

“Oh, if it works, I can pay that much,” the woman murmured. She licked her pale lips. “And. . . and the other things . . . are they . . . .?”

“Not expensive at all,” the redhead said with a charming smile.

“Only a few hundred,” added the black-haired one.

“I’ll take them all,” the woman said, sounding as if her throat had gone dry.

“Put yourself in our hands,” the exotic woman murmured, standing so close that the customer could smell her, a sexy, musky scent.

“We’ll take perfect care of you,” the redhead added. She had come so close, so quietly, and now she stood nearly touching the customer. Six inches closer, and her lips would be touching the customer’s lips, so close. It was . . . was hot in the shop.

The customer was feeling a little dizzy. She tried to force a businesslike timbre in her voice: “And. . . and it is all guaranteed?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Bradford,” the sexy man assured her. The shop seemed to spin around her, a blur of chrome and stainless steel. How did he know her name? He was saying something else in that seductive, rumbling, tiger’s purr: “Your satisfaction is completely guaranteed, or double your karma back.”

END

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