A Betrayal

You make it to the dining room, before you clutch your head, the vision of the Mantra Meditation entering unbidden. The feelings of Erica's wet pussy on your fingers, the sound of their moans seeming to hit you all at once. It can be hardly surprising as you look down to see yourself hard.

What was I doing again? I was trying to find Olivia. Trying to stop her from revealing my secret, from turning others against me. But... how was I going to do that again? Talk to her, yeah, but that won't work. Maybe I should help her with her problem, if I fuck her, then... No, stop.

You let go of your hard cock, your hand wet with your precum. Your fantasies dance, the vision of Olivia like she was during the exercises, exposed to you, at your mercy...

Your hand lands on the table with a strong sound, your fist gripped tightly, trying to hold onto the tenuous control you have on yourself. Stop. Just stop. You won't do that. You'll never do that. Never.

Your phone chimes in your hand, and you look at it with confusion. It had never made that sound before, it almost sounds like the bells that ring before darkness. You look at your phone, curious.

You are to help prepare dinner tonight. Please report to the kitchen.

You look at the words, and you are scared and confused. Wait, the app could also order you around? That shouldn't be surprising, but it sort of is because it's never really happened before. Although, would it whip you like it had the others if you didn't follow it's rules? Or was that a function of the collar? This just raises too many questions...

But one thing is not a question. You walk to the adjacent room, to the kitchen, ready to follow these orders. At least it might take your mind off... well, just about everything.

As you cross the boundary of the kitchen, you gain a piece of clothing. Though as you look down at it, you can't help but groan. It is an apron that is a bit short, ending at your lower stomach, not hiding your still painfully aroused cock. But that is only the mildest indignity. Instead it is the words on the apron. Kiss the Cook. Although the second o isn't fully closed, and almost looks like a c.

Great, not only do I look like some indecent nightmare, the app also likes Dad tier level jokes.

Still, you don't leave the room. Maybe you'd be punished if you tried, but more importantly, apron or not, you wanted to lose yourself doing something. Something other than sex.

You hear the sound of someone approaching on clacking heels and you turn away from the door in mild embarrassment. It could only be one person as only one still even had shoes to hear, but still you can't help but tense as Erica entered the room. A reaction mirrored by her.

As she crosses the threshold, her dress, skimpy as it is, morphs into a poofy apron. And nothing else, no heels, no body mesh, no stockings. No belt.

So it is little wonder as she shoves her butt against the wall, trying to hide herself as she looks at this man, who despite trying to hide it, clearly bears an erection.

"What are you doing here?" Those words show just how far she's fallen here. Gone is the anger, the accusations. It is more a squeak than a complaint, a plea than an ultimatum.

"The phone told me to be here. I don't exactly think this is my own sense of fashion, do you?" Your hand gestures at the ridiculous apron.

Despite herself, her fears, Erica can't help but laugh. "No shit.". She looks at you, before taking her back off the wall. As she does, she looks down. "There's something comforting about that. Neither of us have control, but we're here together."

You try to hide your guilt, but only stumble into an awkward subject. "I want to help as best as I can, here, this morning, anywhere.". Her face takes on a whole new hue of red, as she remembers this morning and your cock bobs as you do as well. Her lips were around my cock only hours ago...

"... We should get started." She walked up to the oven and lo and behold there were instructions that popped on the wall.

Girls, start by browning 2 pounds of beef from the fridge.

Master, grab the knife from the drawer and begin to prepare a fruit salad from the fruit in the fridge and on top of it.

You reach into the fridge, finding a medley of berries. You hand her a package of beef, which she takes with a simple ease. As you reach up, you find two large melons, honeydew and cantaloupe, and as you bring one down in both hands, it lingers for a second above your chest, and you remember the voluptuous woman next to you, clad in only a thin apron, so thin you could swear the outline of her nipples.

You try to take your mind off of it. You have to ask the question, as you look at her, trying to gauge her reaction. "Why do you think it said Girls? Could the system be bugging? Do... does magic bug out, even if it's as an app?"

She shrugs, still looking down. "I don't know. I've only cooked one meal in here so far, and it was with another girl. It might be that it's script only has that for us, the plural. But you're not going to ask about your own name? It calls you Master."

You had expected this line of questioning. "I mean, at this point, are you really surprised? I thought it was obvious that it was pushing me to sleep with all of you. The fact remains, I don't want to be here any more than you do." It was the truth, though the truth only by leaving all of the lies in its wake. You didn't want to be here, except part of your lizard brain did. And it was pushing you to sleep with all of them, and the fact that you happened to enjoy some of the pleasures, well, you were only human.

"So there's no collusion, just an evil spirit trying to give you your own harem? Oh, heavy is the crown, the sword of Damocles over your head." You can't help but grin wryly. She doesn't know the half of it, that sword falling this morning as you failed to save Sephora, and hurt everyone in the process.

Still, you can't help but smile. "Was that sarcasm? I was used to your wit being more sardonic, but maybe you can see that I'm not the bad guy anymore. I'm used to you... being a bit more mean."

At this, she blushes. "Well, I mean, this morning, you could've left me. And... well, I don't think you're all that bad. And this place has given us hell at every turn when we try to fight you. So maybe, maybe it's just better if we don't fight."

"Hey, could you get... well, you can see it." You look up from your bowl of berries and sliced melons to see the instruction has changed.

Girls: Keep stirring and pour in two bottles of milk into the pan.

You reach in, grabbing the only milk available. The Slut Milk seems so mundane now, as you hand it to her, as she opens it, as she pours it into the skillet. Or it should, but there is something humiliating in the most subtle way, how now she uses it in front of a man.

You find your eyes linger on her for a little longer, and you watch as she reaches up and grabs a box of noodles and some cheeses to add to the meal. Her ass stretches wonderfully as she climbs on tippy toes to reach the box.

As she lands on the heels of her feet, you see that she has noticed you staring. "Don't make it awkward." She looks down, stirring the ingredients in. You look away, cutting up the melons, mixing the berries, getting lost in your own mind.

Soon, you are brought out of it again as you finish. Your new instructions are to peel two potatoes and cut them into sections, preparing them for mashed potatoes based on Erica's instructions to boil them.

The cooking proceeds smoothly, and you can't help but feel like it is almost too easy, too normal. As you mash the potatoes, you notice that the butter has a label called Slut Farms, but you try not to think about that. It is mostly those small humiliations, not nothing by any means, but compared to the rest of the day, this does feel like a break.

By the end, you are mostly just standing there with Erica, as the food cooks. A partition opens in the wall, and you see the plates. Erica reaches in, before she releases a shriek. Turning around, you see a black manacle grabbed one of her hands as she reached for the plate. And you look to see the section of the counter she now leans over is the odd section that had a divet in it. The wall makes clear that it is not done yet however.

Erica: Place other hand into manacle.

You look to see two black circles, and Erica, sighing, meekly puts her other hand there, the manacle snapping onto her wrist. Now bent over the counter, she is in position, The table opens underneath of her like a trap door, and two machines reach up, grabbing hold of her breasts, pushing her apron aside, two long stalks that seem to grab firmly to her nipples. It is much less mass than the milking bench. The next command almost sounds comical.

Erica: Orgasm.

After following the cooking instructions, you can't help but feel a sort of wry irony. You know, that section of the cooking show where the host orgasms, that's the true Joy of Cooking.

You look at her, and she looks down. You wait, wondering how she wants to play this. After a bit, she releases a sigh. "It's ok. I can't do anything like this, I can't masturbate. I guess you've been put upon once again. Try to be gentle please. It's not like I'm not used to it, after the last couple of days."

She expects you to fuck her. But you don't. Instead, you kneel between her legs, and your tongue runs along her pussy. Not that she minds it, as she cries out in joy after only a few licks.

"Oh god. That feels so good. Rebecca is a lucky girl, you know just what to do in this department." Rebecca, Sephora. They'd all feel your skills soon enough. Still, you can't help but smile at the compliment as you take a little bit to tease her clit. You feel like you are breaking some taboo by doing this instead of having sex when she was clearly so open to you, so ****, your cock hard, but that only makes this path all the more appealing. Because while you might play the app's game, you aren't it's friend.

"Oh god, I feel it. You're going to make me cum. I'm going to cum." You don't stop to give her permission, as she wasn't one to take kindly to that. Or maybe she would. So much had changed so fast. And as you feel her folds squeeze at your tongue, you see her breasts release milk, the tubes guiding it down.

And then, like some gross parody, a door opens between her legs, a glass coming out on a platform, filled with frothing milk. As you grab it, you feel it's warmth. Fresh squeezed.

You put the glass on the counter, and as the platform retreats, Erica's binds release. You see her stumble a bit as she steps back from the counter, the light vacuum on her breasts letting go without resistance. And then, like it never happened, the words on the wall changed.

Master: Make 5 plates of food for everyone. Carry them to the dining room.

Erica: Pour 4 more glasses of milk from the fridge. The warm glass is Master's.

You reach into the partition, taking care to avoid the manacles just in case, taking the food and making 5 roughly even plates of food. As you step back into the dining room, your apron disappears, and you ferry back and forth to the kitchen until the table is set, 5 meals ready to be eaten, with your drink just a little warmer than the others.

Soon Rebecca and Sephora enter the room. That leaves Olivia. Who soon comes from the kitchen.

She had been hidden in one of the lower cabinets. She had heard everything. And as she stares daggers at you, she sits down, before looking at Erica, who she meets with an equally vicious glare.

Her girlfriend. The woman you'd just licked to orgasm in front of her.

AN: I just figured I'd take this moment to thank all of you for supporting me. I just hit 200 chapters, although part of that are the first 30 or so chapters that were deleted from the previous thread and were reposted here. Still, I want to celebrate the milestone by thanking all of you, without your support I'd have stopped a long time ago.

I'd especially like to thank NaughtyPixie and Dissonant Soundtrack, my favorite collaborators who have really helped me shine through discussions and suggestions. They are the reasons my threads have grown so long, for good and ill lol.