Experimenting

David left the park, his mind still reeling from Clara’s casual “Master” and the unsettling implications it carried. The morning air was crisp, the neighborhood quiet except for the occasional chirp of birds or hum of a passing car. He needed something normal, something grounding, so he decided to head to Brew Haven, the local coffee shop a few blocks away. It was a place he’d been to a hundred times—cozy, familiar, with worn wooden tables and the comforting aroma of roasted beans. Maybe a coffee and some people-watching would help him clear his head, or at least distract him from this bizarre reality.

As he pushed open the glass door, the bell above jingled softly. The shop was moderately busy, with a handful of customers scattered at tables, tapping on laptops or chatting over mugs. Behind the counter, a barista—a woman in her early twenties with a nose ring and a messy bun—glanced up from steaming milk and smiled. “Morning, Master!” she said brightly, her voice carrying the same effortless cheer as Clara’s had on the sidewalk. “What can I get started for you?”

David’s stomach twisted, but he **** himself to stay calm. He wasn’t going to make a scene, not here. If every woman was going to call him Master, he’d have to get used to it—at least until he figured out what was going on. He stepped up to the counter, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Uh, just a large black coffee, please,” he said, keeping his tone neutral.

“Got it, Master,” the barista said, punching the order into the register. Her name tag read “Lila.” “That’ll be $3.50. Want it brought to your table?”

David nodded, handing over a five-dollar bill. “Yeah, that’s fine. Keep the change.”

“Thanks, Master!” Lila said, her smile unwavering as she tucked the bill away. “I’ll bring it over in a sec.”

David turned, scanning the shop for a quiet spot. As he walked to a small table by the window, a woman in a business suit glanced up from her laptop and gave him a polite nod. “Hi, Master,” she said, her voice casual, before returning to her work. Another woman, older, maybe in her fifties, passed by with a to-go cup and offered a quick, “Morning, Master,” as she headed for the door.

He sank into his chair, his heart pounding. It was happening again—every woman he encountered was calling him Master, as if it were his name, his identity. Clara had said “everyone knows” he was Master, and now, with each new greeting, the scope of this reality was sinking in. It wasn’t just his mom and sister, or even just this neighborhood. It might be every woman, everywhere. The thought made his head spin. The whole world? How was that even possible?

He stared out the window, trying to focus on the mundane: cars rolling by, a kid on a scooter, the flicker of a neon sign across the street. But his mind kept looping back to the word “Master,” the way it rolled off their tongues like it was nothing. Another woman, this one in yoga pants with a gym bag slung over her shoulder, walked by his table. “Hey, Master,” she said with a quick wave, not even breaking stride as she headed to the counter.

David rubbed his temples, his coffee forgotten for the moment. This was too much. If every woman in the world saw him as “Master,” what did that mean for his life? For his job, his friends, his future? He couldn’t imagine walking into work tomorrow and hearing his coworkers—half of them women—call him that. And what about dating? How was he supposed to navigate a world where every woman addressed him like he was some kind of universal lord, but only his mom and sister thought they were his slaves?

Lila appeared at his table, setting down his coffee with a small flourish. “Here you go, Master,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Anything else I can get you?”

David hesitated, his mouth dry. The coffee steamed in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere, snagged on a thought that had been simmering since yesterday. The way his mom and sister talked about obedience, the way Clara and Lila and every other woman seemed so unfazed by calling him Master—it was all so strange, so detached from normal social rules. And then there was the other thing, the one he’d barely let himself think about: the idea that, in this reality, certain acts might not carry the weight they did before. He’d overheard Mia joking with a friend on the phone yesterday about something “not being a big deal,” and the context had sounded… off.

He swallowed, his voice low and nervous. “Uh, Lila, can I ask you something? It’s… kind of weird.”

Lila raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly against the table, her expression open but curious. “Sure, Master. What’s up?”

David’s face burned, but he **** the words out, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. “Would you, uh… give me a blowjob?”

Lila didn’t flinch. Her smile didn’t even falter. “Oh, sure, Master,” she said, as casually as if he’d asked for a refill. “Right here okay, or you want somewhere more private?”

David blinked, his brain short-circuiting. He’d expected shock, maybe a laugh, maybe her throwing the coffee in his face. But she was just… agreeing? Like it was nothing? “Uh, here’s fine,” he stammered, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say.

Lila nodded, dropping to her knees beside the table with the same ease she’d used to pour his coffee. The other customers didn’t even glance over; the woman with the laptop kept typing, the older woman at the counter was chatting with another barista, everything continuing as if this was perfectly normal. David’s heart raced as Lila began, her movements practiced and unhurried, like she was performing a routine task.

His mind was a whirlwind, but he needed to test the boundaries of this reality further. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “Uh, Lila… would you… have sex with me?”

Lila paused, looking up at him with a frown, her expression shifting to one of disgust. “Sex? No way, Master,” she said, her tone sharp but not angry. “A blowjob’s one thing, but sex? You’re not my type. Like, at all.”

David’s face flushed deeper, a mix of embarrassment and relief. “Right, sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just… experimenting, I guess. Trying to understand… stuff.”

Lila’s expression softened, and she stood, brushing off her apron. “It’s cool, Master, I get it. You’re curious. But, like, be careful with that kind of question. A blowjob’s no big deal, just a friendly thing, but sex? That’s personal. You ask the wrong woman, you might get slapped.”

He nodded quickly, his cheeks still burning. “Yeah, got it. Sorry again.”

“No harm done,” Lila said with a shrug, her smile returning. “Enjoy your coffee, Master.” She turned and headed back to the counter, already taking another order as if nothing had happened.

David sat there, staring at his untouched coffee, his mind racing. So, blowjobs were casual in this world, like a handshake or a quick chat, but sex was still intimate, still a line not to be crossed lightly. And only his mom and sister saw themselves as his slaves, bound to obey his every command. Other women—like Clara, like Lila—called him Master but had their own autonomy, their own boundaries. He made a mental note: non-**** women might agree to something like a blowjob without blinking, but anything more was off-limits unless the attraction was mutual. It was a strange, fragmented set of rules, but it was something to work with.

He sipped his coffee, the bitter warmth grounding him slightly. The shop hummed around him, more women passing by, each offering a casual “Hi, Master” or “Morning, Master.” With every greeting, the weight of his new reality grew heavier. This wasn’t just his family, or his neighborhood. It was likely every woman in the world, all seeing him as “Master” for reasons he couldn’t fathom. He had no idea how to fix it, or if it could be fixed. For now, all he could do was sip his coffee, watch the world go by, and try to navigate this strange new life—one “Master” at a time.