Make the Tellers Mine

Leona won the right to go home last night... but at no point did I agree to leave her alone, did I? Then there’s her mother and all the gems I already put into her… and that new body, supernaturally restored to the point she could pass for Leona’s more womanly-shaped sister. With just a few more gems, I could have them both roped into a “competition” that would invariably involve my dick.

The only problem with my plan is that I haven't the slightest idea where they live. It would depend on my texts to Irie to get there… and I had to hope she’d play along. The text is sent, giving me time to think about who else, if anyone else, to rope into my little contest… for all of a minute. By the time I’m nearly home, Irie has already texted me back… with the address and an invitation? That almost feels too easy, but I don’t question it as I put the address into my maps app and head right over.

The Teller Household, 5:07 P.M.

I should have questioned it.

“... but I figured while he waits for Leona to get back, surely he wouldn't mind humoring us girls and our little club,” Irie Teller says with a knowing grin. Her voice is wry and charismatic, even as she sighs her words while her leaky tits continue to stain her front.

Around her living room--a chamber of cheap furniture dipped in floral design and studded in creepy, porcelain children--knowing nods and fake smiles all agree with Irie and her plans for me. Mrs. Rebecca Parker, my neighbor and recently-aborted target for customization, voices it aloud, “You have such a gift in helping the lost find their way.”

“Mr. Haines, you are always welcome to join our circles in these trying times,” agrees Mrs. Jesse Fondle, a terrifyingly-named, 70-year-old widow whose dress somehow near-perfectly matches Ms. Teller's couch upholstery. Next to the youthful Mrs. Parker and newly-young Ms. Teller, Mrs. Fondle is an angular, ugly reminder of the elder future that awaits everyone who survives middle age.

“Sarah told me all about your teacher. Horrible, absolutely horrible,” pipes up Mrs. Paulette Santiago, heavy-set mother to the bored-looking Sarah Santiago to her right, the very cheerleader I also once contemplated turning into a Custom Girl.

I had contemplated more women in my upcoming game… but this is not what I anticipated, nor is it desired with the presence of Sarah’s obese mother or the gargoyle-faced elder.

Leona, it turns out, was already out with her team for some practice that would go well into the night. But Irie didn't mention any of that in our text exchange: as to the idea of meeting up with her and her daughter, she just told me to come right away. I never should've left it to text; perhaps I would've detected the scheming in her voice, but instead I zoomed over just to land in the middle of a Bible study group of five women—maybe the only five women for miles—who would willingly come here on a weekday evening.

Actually, based on Sarah’s expressions throughout, I get the feeling I’m not their first victim.

I have my Vita handy, but the thought of seeing any customizations for the hideous Mrs. Fondle makes my stomach flip. It's not just the wrinkles, or the light moustache, or the lack of any feminine curves, or the lotioned skin of her gnarly fingers, or the bulbous eyes that threaten to pop out of her head whenever anyone says anything... but it is all of that combined that makes her readily one of the most repulsive women I've voluntary sat this close to in recent weeks. Even her perfume--it must be hers for how acrid and awful it smells--makes me recoil. Short of a promise to make her entirely someone else, I don't see the Custom Girls app saving her.

Then there's Mrs. Parker, and all the reasons I avoided her earlier. There's also Sarah, who's presently dating the reason to avoid her, at least until I get some kind of avatar perk that lets me beat up giant football players. Her mother actually has a strikingly beautiful face, albeit round with fat, and the more I imagine picking her up and watching her thunderous-looking chest bounce the more I find myself looking past her fat. The only discouragement there is Sarah, who looks like a prisoner at her side.

Not a single person bats an eye at Irie as she lactates uncontrollably, and Irie herself has the "solution" of a folded blanket on her lap that's tucked under her shirt to absorb her dribbling.

The entire scene can't be farther from what I expected when I drove to the now-saved address of my star athelete Custom Girl. Still, I dare to look at my Vita while among them, unsure of my gem count and my ability to manage this situation. I really don't want to sit in for their Bible study, much less offend Irie by failing to participate... but what else can I do? Without looking up I shakily respond, “To be honest, I just came for the competition, I don't really read-”

“Can you put that away, David?” Irie sighs, finally causing me to blink up at her as I realize she's talking about my handheld. “We're talking to you! That's the problem with the youth, one of them anyways,” she lectures, growing warmer as she does, “such attention issues!”

“You're so right,” parrot the adults present.

I toss Sarah a pleading glance for support, but its clear she's long given up on resistance. She just looks at the coffee table, her mind somewhere else. “Well, like I said,” I slowly offer, “I manage my accounts through this. I'm not playing a game.”

“Maybe you do, but right now I see what looks alot like a game with some buttons,” Irie grumbles as she peers over at me. “Unless that picture of a woman is part of some new banking app?”

I try to obscure her vision to it, but that only cements my guilt in her eyes; despite my Silver Tongue, I've been caught red-handed. But more problematic than that... I tried to hide it. Irie, a mother who despises when her children hide things, is apparently so used to correcting the behavior that she has no issue snatching the Vita from my grip, shocking me with sudden robbery.

I look around at all the women present... all the witnesses to what's about to happen.

Oh... shit. Shit shit shit-!

“Now now, Mr. Haines, there'll be plenty of time later to...” Irie pauses... and, with a wordless, knowing smile, the succubus riding her slips the device back into my open, stunned hands. Cripes, now what's coming? Whoever's inside her can't go blurting out things in front of all these people!

... Or can they?

If they can, they’re being cautious enough to not make it obvious. “Sorry,” Irie answers in what is obviously Ginger's voice, “this is yours.” No one seems to bat an eye except Mrs. Fondle, who stands and leans over to me with judging, bulging eyes after she's done being shocked at what Ginger-Teller permits...

... and with an alacrity that few women of her advanced years could possess, she reaches forward and tugs the device from my loose grip while I stare at the first possessed woman. “N-no, wait-!”

“You don't need to apologize, Mrs. Teller,” her scratchy voice declares, “and you certainly don't need to give him his distractions back! My grandchildren are losing their faith, too, because of these devil-made... toys...” She doesn't finish the statement before a grimace shrivels into a smirk. “But what do I know? He should be allowed his privacy and I don't even know what this thing is.” With a **** laugh, Jane-Fondle hands the device back at me as my jaw goes slack. They're both here and neither sound right. No, forget that... now Mrs. Fondle is going to be a Custom Girl! This is the absolute last thing I wanted today! Tomorrow! Ever!

I look around, sure the others could hear the voices of their possessed Bible friends for what they are... but the only reaction I find is Mrs. Parker, giant tits drawing my eyes first every time I glance at her, who shakes her head in disappointment. “I know exactly what kind of thing that is... and you have the right of it, Mrs. Fondle, the absolute right of it. No good comes from these... oh, these violent video games, and I bet that's exactly what he's playing. That should be the topic of our next meeting,” she adds as she too stands to reach for my Vita. What the Hell is wrong with these ladies?! I'm an adult, this is my property, why the fuck-?!

But as she nears, I say words I doubt I’ll ever say again to a future Custom Girl:

“Please stop grabbing it-!”

But my complaints and half-hearted attempt to pull back into my chair are met with... Irie--no, Ginger--gently pushing me forward with an open hand on my back. Pushing me back into range to be grabbed by Mrs. Parker. What the fuck is she thinking?! I don't have any answers by the time the Vita is snatched from my hands a third time.

Mrs. Parker holds my Vita up high as she continues, “His mother even told me he plays too many video games, years ago… oh, but she never had what it took to stop him... something that would end today, if I have any say in it-” But she doesn't... and her eyes grow blank as her hand lowers.

But she doesn't get to hand it back to me this time; instead, senior Santiago steps in and peels it from Mrs. Parker's hand and leans towards me with an apologetic, “Sorry, David, we just recently had a talk at the church about the dangers of media and... well, you hit a nerve, just playing it in front of us like that.” I stare, stunned, as she neatly pats the device returned to my grasp while offering a genuine smile. “Please do put it away?”

She tosses looks all around the women with a raised eyebrow and something akin to a withering glare. Perhaps if the women were not all being ridden by sex demons at the moment, they'd react too.

I take my Vita in hand and, with a sudden and forceful rise as I look around, stammer something about the bathroom as I make my escape. The Santiagos don't stop or even question me; as is, none of them can apparently here or detect the bizarre states their friends are now in...

Three times... three times I almost lost my Vita! Three times these crazy Bible ladies decided they could take it from me! My heart sank every time, each time worried they fling or destroy it and leave me scrambling to find my next qualifying electronic... and though the fortunes kept it safe and put three punishments in my queue, I can't help but feel like this was some kind of forceful reminder to hide what I do with this app.

Almost as forceful as Ginger when she helped rope Mrs. Parker in. What the Hell was that about?!

Now in the safety of the bathroom, I stare down at the stacking interfaces, one after the other, asking what should be done with the two ladies I've contemplated before and... ugh... Mrs. Fondle. God damn it, I just wanted to bang a mom and daughter combo! How did I get here?!

I have bigger questions with limiting timers on them, now. The newest of them sits on top:

UNAUTHORIZED USER DETECTED. MINOR VIOLATION: MINOR PUNISHMENT AUTHORIZED. 7 SECONDS TO CHOOSE PUNISHMENT BEFORE ONE RANDOM PUNISHMENT IS CHOSEN.
UNAUTHORIZED USER DETECTED. ATTEMPTS TO INFLUENCE AGAINST USE OF APP DETECTED. COMPOUND VIOLATION: MODERATE PUNISHMENT AUTHORIZED. 11 SECONDS TO CHOOSE PUNSIHMENT BEFORE ONE RANDOM PUNISHMENT IS CHOSEN.
UNAUTHORIZED USER DETECTED. ATTEMPTS TO INFLUENCE AGAINST USE OF APP DETECTED. SOCIAL AND HOME THREATS DETECTED. COMPOUND VIOLATION: MAJOR PUNISHMENT AUTHORIZED. 19 SECONDS TO CHOOSE PUNISHMENT BEFORE ONE RANDOM PUNISHMENT IS CHOSEN.
RETURNING APP TO AUTHORIZED USER... DONE.
PLEASE SELECT A PUNISHMENT.

It takes me almost three seconds to even process what it's saying! I dismiss the popup and the first punishment to greet me is the most recent.

SELECT MAJOR PUNISHMENT FOR OFFENDER REBECCA PARKER:

BE FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLY: her current pregnancy terminates and she hyper-ovulates, but only User can impregnate her.

SHE WHO IS SELF-INDULGENT IS DEAD EVEN WHILE SHE LIVES: she can only feel sexual pleasure or arousal when User touches her; all other, suppressed sexual arousal is built up until User touches her in any way.

LET HER BREASTS SATISFY THEE AT ALL TIMES: she loses all rights to her own breasts which become User's property to do with as he pleases without retaliation.

I'm in a hurry, that much is clear... but that revelation in the first option, as well as what it promises, floors me. So Mrs. Parker is pregnant again... not surprising given her proven fertility, but still, this app wants to abort it to make room for my kids? That's twisted in a way that isn't even sexy; why is this even an option?! I almost think to go out and demand answers of the succubi present, but I opt against it. Focusing on the other two, I have to decide: kill her sex life, or let me play with her funbags at all hours of the day. The former is cruel; the latter is, at worst, kind of funny. How is that a major punishment, anyways?

I chastise myself almost immediately: in the end, it’s slavery, albeit just of her tits.

I finally choose the third option after a fair amount of concern... and the messages come in rapid fire:

PUNISHMENT CHOSEN FOR JESSICA PARKER: LET HER BREASTS SATISFY THEE AT ALL TIMES.

TIME RAN OUT! RANDOM PUNISHMENT CHOSEN FOR JESSE FONDLE: TYPHOID MARY.
TIME RAN OUT! RANDOM PUNISHMENT CHOSEN FOR IRIE TELLER: FAMILY VALUES.

Oh... oh no, I took too damn long to address the other two! I check the customizations one after the other.

IRIE TELLER
Punishment: Family Values (Experiences a quarter of all sexual pleasure she perceives her family members having.)
ADVANCED OPTIONS:
She feels the full extent of their pleasure instead: 25 gems.
Her presence doubles the sexual arousal and pleasure felt by family members: 15 gems.
She can no longer discourage family members from having sexual relations or pleasure: 5 gems.

Whoa... that's huge and, at least in some ways, hot. Granted, I'm not about to include the men just yet, but the idea of Leona and-

A knock on my door snaps me out of my fantasy in time to read the last entry I'm willing to check.

JESSE FONDLE
Punishment: Typhoid Mary (Once per day, she catches a random customization from the first Custom Girl she sees. Once per day, she bestows a random customization of her own--other than this punishment--onto the first adult woman she touches. Her awareness is always on for these customizations and they cannot be refunded or swapped.)
ADVANCED OPTIONS:
The number of customizations being exchanged, and the price of this advanced option, are doubled every time this is purchased: 100 gems.
The customizations acquired can be swapped: 300 gems.
This punishment becomes transmittable as a non-punishment customization: 500 gems.

My stomach turns as I read the promise of that old biddy not only becoming a permanent fixture on my list... but possibly becoming a valuable resource at that. No, no, no... damn it, this is all wrong! Is it too much to hope the first perk she steals is being reverted to youth? Would that even really fix that face?

Dave, this is way more problematic than that... I mean, I don't really have any say on any of this! I don't even know Mrs. Fondle, much less have any control over what she does, who she talks to, or where she goes! I think about what she's being exposed to right now: Irie Teller and Rebecca Parker, the latter with just the single punishment... ugh, as if I'd ever use it on whatever gnarled tits Mrs. Fondle was hiding-

I shiver in disgust.

While sickness and panic are running laps in my gut, the knock brings me once again out of my fixation. “Y-Yes?” I shakily answer.

“It's pretty good stuff, right?” Ginger-Teller giggles from behind the door.

“This is-! This is terrible! They're all going to know that I somehow got involved in what affects them!” Not to mention I just came for some friendly orgy fun with the Tellers! How did it become this?!

“Yeah, well... while we have you here, mind filling a survey? We need feedback on an issue based on your recent... use.”

I roll my eyes as we continue talking through the door. “I think they'll start to notice-”

“The Santiagos are sleeping, don't you worry.” I open the door and face Leona's mother, an uncharacteristic grin painted on her face. “It's about... eh, the human desire to breed.”

I stare blankly at Ginger-Teller.

“So you... don't ever want to get rid of whatever’s growing in your Custom Girls? Even if it’s another man’s sperm growing in there?”

The way she said that is… Nevermind. “You guys are reading my mind,” I finally accuse her. What more evidence do I need? How can she even deny-?

“Yeah, duh, how do you think we screened you as a User?” Slackjawed, I have no response as she rolls past the confession, “Look, point is... you should know that the Gem Health Program, and lots of the customizations we've been prototyping, involve getting rid of a Custom Girl's current pregnancy... for example, if you got one pregnant and then you turned on the anti-pregnancy protection, or if they got a perk while pregnant with someone else's kid that was all about your own-”

“Yeah, no!” She gives me a half-lidded stare, and I don't wait for any further invitation to unload. “You already know I think that's- no, that just is fucking twisted! How is that even sexy?!”

“Well, it's a mating imperative, and that's a pretty big part-”

“No! My- my feedback is no! Stop that shit!”

She stares at me for a long time through Irie's eyes... and the tiny, quiet smirk that grows there on her beautiful chin makes me wonder if I signed up for more than I meant to. “Your feedback is noted. Pregnancies will no longer be aborted by any Custom Girls features. Thank you for filling out our survey! You'll receive a credit of 20 gems to-”

“Ask him about the pegging!” comes the laden voice of whichever succubus is riding Rebecca Parker.

“Oh, right, the pegging-”

“You already know.”

“But are you suuuuure?” Parker asks again.

“He's very sure, right now.” I don't find any solace in Ginger's determination, but at the very least there's no pegging perk floating around for Mrs. Fondle to-- ah, God damn it, why did I even give myself the mental image?! “Let's just give him some time to really... explore the world he's grabbing hold of.”

I don't question the words, not until later in the night when I'm alone and replaying that encounter in my mind. So many coincidences, so much absurd behavior... and the succubi were there, ready and waiting and with some agenda besides. But I don't question any of it right now.

Right now, I must contend with what's waiting for me in the living room as all the succubi leave and the Santiagos snap back to conscious states. Irie Teller is by my side, as confused as she is horny. If Mrs. Parker knows what's become of the independence of her breasts, she doesn't let it on.