Cindy Lessick, Right Place at the Right Time (Completed)

By all accounts Cindy was living a pretty middle of the road life. She'd finished school without issue, but had completely failed to carry that momentum through to starting a degree. She had a job, at least, but it didn't pay much and being a cashier had made her break down crying after her shift more than once. And she had a place to live, although that place was a room in her parent's old house they let her stay in rent-free on the condition she share it with her brother.

He was part of the reason she felt so down. Despite only being a couple of years older than her, Ray Lessick was halfway through an engineering bachelor's and still found time to work in a metal shop, stay in shape at the local gym, and manage a social media page with enough followers that it sometimes showed up on Cindy's recommended page (only because it was popular, she'd only looked at the photos in it like once or twice). He was frustratingly put together. From what she'd overheard he was even paying rent. Meanwhile Cindy was just floating through life like a leaf on a river, making enough money not to starve while not being able to put away any savings, completely and totally aimless.

And the worst part was that she had goals. There was a burning ambition that she went to bed thinking about and woke up with a desire to fulfill.

The only issue was that Cindy's greatest ambition was to have sex with a guy on her own terms.

That last bit was crucial. She knew that she could probably walk into any bar in the city and start making eyes at a guy and she'd be in his bed by the end of the night if she was forward enough. But the specific thing Cindy wanted was to be in control, to be comfortable and set her own pace and do what she wanted when she wanted it, and she wasn't naive enough to think she'd find a guy willing to give up control like that just on the street. At best she'd be treated like an "equal" partner until the guy got too horny, at worst she'd be fucked like a sexdoll regardless of what she had to say on the matter.

She'd tried. She really had. She'd used dating apps, but never built up the courage to say precisely what she wanted, and the guys who matched with her had never been that hot. She'd gone to a sex shop to buy some toys for her own use, but the guy behind the counter had scared her badly enough in the first minute she'd left and never gone back. She'd even built up the courage to sign up for a kink meetup, but had ended up deleting her message and staying home that night instead, mind filled with vague nightmares of latex and whips.

So Cindy stayed exactly where she was, living at home and treading water and desperately repressed, until one day a package for her brother arrived.

Checking the mailbox was never too much of a hassle. At most there were bills to be passed along to their parents, political ads, the occasional piece of junkmail, and a rare letter from some aging relative who hadn't figured out the whole internet thing yet. Cindy did her best to take care of it, along with a lot of the simpler chores, since it felt nice to do something she was actually good at.

Although weirdly enough Ray had insisted on doing a lot more of the housework lately. Not that Cindy minded, his cooking was a lot better than hers.

Regardless, that was what made it all the more strange when she found a large cardboard box resting by the mailbox covered in packing tape. She was worried about picking it up until she gave it an experimental lift and found it was shockingly light, as if whatever it carried was very small or diffuse. A quick check of the posting slip said that it had been sent to Raymond Lessick, but weirdly it didn't have a company name or a return address.

She lugged it inside along with the letters, which consisted of a water bill and a **** plea for donations to a variety of local political parties. She was tempted to just leave it by the counter, but something this big was probably something he'd been waiting on for a while. He'd probably appreciate it if she brought it up to him right away.

So abandoning the letters on the counter, she lugged the package upstairs to her brother's room, and opened the door to find him sitting naked in front of his desktop.

The entire scene was so strange that she was briefly stunned by it. Since she'd last seen inside some months ago, his entire room had transformed. Dumbbells filled up a shelf in one corner, his bed had been reduced to a single mattress on the ground in one corner to make room for racks upon racks of strange clothing, and the desk he'd been gaming at since they were teenagers had been remodeled. Gone were the expensive peripherals and posters: in their place were the sort of ring lights and fancy cameras that she was pretty sure livestreamers used. The kind of streamers who got by on looks.

Or the other kind of streamers. Which, judging by the fact that when her brother turned to meet her he was naked and slowly pumping a hand up and down his extremely erect cock, might have been closer to the truth.

She was only a second away from slamming the door and running screaming. The only thing stopping her was sheer disbelief, a refusal to acknowledge what she'd walked in on, the sneaking suspicion that this had to be some kind of fucked dream. It wouldn't be the first time one that had started in a similar way.

It was right before the soap bubble of tension snapped and she closed the door that Ray's face changed, intently listening to something she couldn't hear. He realised that he was wearing earbuds, and the screen behind him looked like he was in a group call. After a moment of listening, he nodded and reached down to press a few buttons on his keyboard.

A voice from the speakers. Female, speaking accented English. Nobody she recognised. "Cindy! So nice to finally meet you. Come over here, let me get a look at you."

Cindy swallowed. She had no idea what was going on, but right now she didn't mind listening to the directions of someone who might. She wandered over to stand in front of the desk, her brother slowly spinning in his chair so he could keep looking at her, never stopping masturbating but never speeding up either. The entire scene was too surreal for words.

Cindy knelt down in front of the screen so she could get a better angle, and the first thing she saw was a sea of naked men in rectangular boxes. She'd been right that it was a group call, and nearly every member had their webcams on: all were male, the majority were naked or barely clothed, most were young or handsome or both, and a handful even had more than one person in the frame. She could already count two guys getting blowjobs from other men and one determinedly typing something on his keyboard even as he sat in the lap of another man slowly fucking him.

The one exception was a single user just labelled as "ADMIN", who didn't have a webcam active. It lit up green as the woman's voice spoke again. "There you are! Wow, the family resemblance really is uncanny. What are you doing in here?"

Cindy found her voice, ignoring the meaty sounds coming from a dozen microphones and the chair beside her. "I... he had a package. I was bringing it up."

The woman cooed in excitement. "Oh, I've been waiting for that! There was this insane cosplay I saw at a con that I knew, uhh... whatever the fuck your brother's called would look absolutely tasty in, and so I had it mailed over so he could try it on. Glad it finally arrived: even I can only do so much to expedite international shipping."

Cindy licked her lips, throat dry and eyes unblinking. She had a very strange feeling about all this. "Sorry, but... are you his girlfriend, or something?"

A low chuckle. "Cindy, I am nobody's girl, and no man's friend. He's just a face in the crowd to me. And a nice dick, admittedly. Look at what's in front of you, Cindy. Who do you think I am?"

And just like that, it all clicked together, and Cindy suddenly felt so much less strange about the whole thing. She couldn't believe she hadn't put it together sooner.

"You're the owner, aren't you?"

"Got it in one. Well, in two. Who's counting?"

That explained it. A few months back people had started figuring out that someone owned all the men now. Technically speaking they were just toys belonging to some unknown owner. Sure, they could still pretend to be humans, but everyone knew they were really just advanced dolls for their owner to mess around with. There had been a hectic few days while everyone figured out exactly what it had meant, particularly when everyone realised they couldn't fuck a man without the owner's permission, but a few rules getting hammered out and a few televised announcements later and things had gone back to a kind of normal.

Well. Mostly normal. More new changes were popping up every day, most of them for the better but some of them downright strange. On the upside Mazie hadn't been verbally abused or sexually harassed by a customer, or any guys at all, since it all started. On the downside, it was apparently impossible to get a gym membership these days since all the guys worldwide had started getting in shape. Either way it wasn't something she thought about a lot. Sure, guys were property now, but Cindy still had work in the morning. It wasn't like she was the owner, and she hadn't had a boyfriend when everything kicked off, so she was basically unaffected.

Still, the owner kept to themselves. Nobody ever saw her directly, there was an embargo on putting her name or face online, and even world leaders in meetings only communicated with her through intermediaries. So to run into her in a random chatroom like this was puzzling, although it made the rest of the bizarre scene much more sensible. She was just enjoying herself with some of her toys. That was fine.

Even if one of the toys being her brother made things a little weird.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't realise who I was talking to. Miss, ummm..."

"Nice try." The computerised voice chuckled. "You can call me Jane Doe, and that's all you're getting out of me. Anyway, welcome to my server. Before all this I was terminally online, and even after balancing budgets and sorting out the world that hasn't changed. Benefit of living in a global patriarchy is it makes fixing stuff a lot easier when you own all the men."

A pause, and Cindy nodded lamely. "That sounds right."

"Smart cookie. Still, after I spend all day doing shit like hashing out UBI in India, I come in here to let off steam. Always been a fantasy of mine to have an entire server full of hotties all to myself, and so I decided to make it happen. Sorry about roping your brother into it, but it's really his fault for posting thirst traps. Enjoying the view?"

"Oh! I, uhh..." Cindy very much was, but she also didn't really know how to even begin explaining that or saying it in a way that would be respectful of the owner's rights. "It's... nice?"

A snort from the speakers. "Please. You're blushing like you've never seen a dick before. Soak it in, girl."

"I mean, I haven't, so... yeah."

Silence. Cindy was suddenly desperately afraid that she'd said something wrong.

When the voice spoke again, it suddenly sounded far more serious. "Wait, for real?"

Cindy floundered. "I guess I've seen one now that I've walked in? Or... more than one, I guess. But before that, no. Nothing."

More silence. Eventually, the voice returned with a resolute tone. "I've heard enough. Boys, power off for this. Give Cindy and I some privacy. Keep edging though."

It was like she'd turned a powerboard off at the outlet. All the men in the webcams slumped forward, eyes closed, even as their hands continued moving robotically. Cindy's attention was split between the man still mechanically fucking his... boyfriend? Partner? Whoever it was in the ass, and her brother who seemed to have just fallen asleep even as he continued pumping a slickened hand up his considerable length.

"Alright, let's get this straight. You're an actual full on virgin? No sex, no feeling up, no kissing, nothing?"

As embarassing as it was to admit, Cindy nodded. Admitting it to a faceless stranger from the other side of the globe felt weirdly less invasive, at least.

"Well shit. That's just a crying shame. What's the holdup?"

Cindy hesitantly spoke about her issues with intimacy, the soundtrack of jacking off and grunts not doing anything to put her at ease. When she finished, the owner gave a long hum of consideration. "Tricky. Very tricky. You do realise I tweaked things so consent will be respected no matter what, right? You won't get hurt unless you're into that."

"I know that, I saw the announcement. But... I don't know. I'm still worried, you know?"

"Oh, I know. You don't need to explain wanting control to me. In fact..." The voice went silent for a long while, considering something. Cindy realised that at some point she'd shifted closer to Ray's chair without realising it, and backed away hurriedly.

It was nearly thirty seconds later when the owner finally made up her mind. "What's your number, Cindy?"

"Um... zero two one three-"

"International code, remember? Not everyone lives in the US."

"Right, sorry, sorry." A brief internet search later, and Cindy had rattled off the correct number.

A few seconds later, she got a texting notification from an unknown number. There was no actual message, just an image attachment of white text on a black background.

BY ORDER OF THE OWNER
The woman who showed you this is allowed to play with you. She has complete control over you second only to my own, provided she does not kill you or do anything unreasonable.

Cindy blinked. That couldn't be right. "Is this a joke?"

"Nope. One hundred percent authentic."

"But... it's so short. It looks fake."

"Oh, it's real. Any guy you show it to will know it's real, at least, and that's the only time it will matter."

"It can't be that easy."

The owner chuckled. "Oh, but it is. I work in mysterious ways. Literally, I'm still figuring out the quirks. And hey, if you still don't trust me, why do you think I had that image ready on hand? I've done this before with some other girls and I wasn't hearing any complaints from them. Use the image as long as you want, don't do anything crazy enough to end up on the news, don't try and ruin anything I set up, and you should be good to go."

Cindy stared at her phone, feeling like her head was gradually filling with warm water and she was just floating somewhere in the mix. This couldn't be real. And yet... this was the owner, and if the owner said it...

"So?" The voice from the speakers sounded amused, ringing out clearly over the noise of mindless edging and fucking. "What'll you do with it first?"