You don't last at all

As you predicted with your last command, you barely last five seconds after poking your cockhead past Maisie's folds until you feel your semen rush out of your dick and into her pussy.

You'd wanked off to porn enough that you have a decent idea of what your refractory period is, so you know you'd be able to get it up again in about twenty minutes, which still means twenty minutes of having your naked crush lying in your bed with you and being unable to fuck her.

You look up to see that while Maisie is perfectly silent, her sides are lightly heaving and her face is flickering through some very interesting expressions.

You're no genius, but it doesn't take one to know exactly what she was thinking in that moment.

So you fish your soft penis out of her vagina, drag your torso along hers, and, after getting yourself into a less awkward position, punch her in the middle of her face.

The blow isn't too hard, but being so unexpected and with Maisie unable to resist, it still breaks her nose and shatters a few teeth, and draws a wail of pain from the woman.

The injuries heal almost immediately, of course, thanks to your command that she'll always be in perfect health, and then by reflex her arms heave upward and shove you right off the bed.

"What the fuck was that for?" the two of you say in near-synchronicity.

Unlike you, Maisie is compelled to answer. "You **** me and then broke my nose and jaw, Master!" she says. "What did you expect me to do?"

"I ordered you not to laugh and then were you clearly laughing anyway!"

"You ordered me not to laugh, Master. You didn't order me not to have the other physical reactions of laughter. Because, Master, it is pretty funny that the moment you got your dick in me, you couldn't even last five seconds."

Seeing red, you try to take another swing at her, but despite being stuck on your bed she blocks your inexpert punch, leaving your forearm stinging.

"Maisie, you're no longer allowed to stop me, or try, from doing whatever I want with you," you say angrily.

And sure enough, your third punch connects cleanly, fracturing her jaw again. And just as before, it heals almost immediately.

"Yes, Master."

"In fact, Maisie, you're now completely loyal to me, my needs, wants and desires will supersede your own, you will always put me first in your decision-making, you automatically reject any possibilities that could harm or hurt me or lead to me being harmed or hurt."

You reflect briefly that maybe you'd just gone too far--as if forcing her to strip, sucking her boobs, making her blow you and dumping a load of cum into her pussy without her consent wasn't already going too far.

"Would you ever have done any of these things willingly with me, Maisie?"

"No," she admits. "It was obvious you had a crush on me and that you'd never just ask and so I enjoyed teasing you too much and leading you on to ever actually take the next step."

"And now?" you ask. "If I just asked you to do it, didn't order you, would you?"

"Yes. What you want is more important than what I want, Master."

"Would you enjoy it?"

"No," she answers honestly. "This is still ****. I never consented to any of this of my own free will. I'll do it because it's what you want. I'll be happy about it if that's what you want. I'll tell everyone else that I've consented because that's what you want me to do. But between us? You're a monster. I trusted you, and you immediately turned around and abused the fuck out of that trust--literally. You've bound me to you forever, and so I'll always be with you and I'll always be at your side, and I'll always support you in everything you do. But it's not because I'm your friend. Our friendship ended the moment you ordered me into your apartment and made me strip for you. If I'm anything to you now, I'm your ****. I might as well be your property." You can see the tears glisten in her eyes. "So go ahead, Master. Use your loyal toy. **** the woman who's magically compelled to let you do it. But don't pretend our relationship is anything other than an owner and his sex **** now. Don't pretend we're somehow friends any more, even as I tell everyone else that we are, even as I tell everyone else that you're the sweetest boyfriend a woman could ever have."

You take a deep breath. She's... not wrong. Deep down you knew that all along, but you crossed those lines anyway. You could make her forget about all of it... but the temptation would linger. You'd always know that you were a few commands away from enjoying her body whenever you want, and another few words from making her forget all about it all over again.

And you decide that, while you're going to be living some sort of lie with her, that's not the sort of lie you want to live.

"Maisie," you begin, then pause. She waits, not moving, wondering what words will spill from your mouth that will shove her even deeper into a hell brought about by the sins of some ancient ancestor and her own misplaced trust.

"Maisie, tell me, have any of your female relatives ever avoided the curse?"

She lets out a sigh of relief at only being asked a question. "Only two that I know of. We keep in contact with each other, email mailing list these days, except for those of us who got ordered to cut off contact. My Aunt Linda, well, she was extremely circumspect about it, but from what I gathered, she lured a homeless man into a dingy motel room, tied him up and gagged him, told him about the curse, and then, well." Maisie uses her finger to draw a line across her throat. "She doesn't tell anyone else about it, to keep the rest of us safe, though, but we're pretty sure that even if she did tell another man about it, he wouldn't be able to control her. And then a distant cousin, Denise, she managed to find someone whom she manipulated into ordering her only to follow those orders she would want to follow anyway. She told us he tried to rescind that order later on, but, obviously, that's not an order she wants to follow."

You nod. "Maisie, you remember how I said that you had to tell everyone else that you enthusiastically consented to all of this?"

"Yes, Master," she says. Her face falls as she figures out what your order will be.

"Maisie, as far as you're concerned..." You take a deep breath again. "...you did."

Immediately her entire demeanour changes. It's like you flipped a switch in her mind. The resentment, the hurt, the hatred, the betrayal... it's all washed away with those eight words. Her body instantly relaxes, from tense, worried, to eager, willing.

You still feel the guilt of it. Her verbal harangue sticks in your mind. She was right. You've made her happy about her new lot in life... but you had to **** her to be. She never chose it.

But you couldn't bear to see her so unhappy. The knowledge is just a burden you'll have to bear on your own, and to make up for that you have your friend as a fucktoy for the rest of your life.

It's the sort of "trade" that a porn-story villain protagonist would convince himself was somehow righteous and selfless--sex on demand, "paid" for by inner guilt. You suppose that you've become that villain.

But damn if Maisie isn't getting you hard again.

"Master, that's wonderful!" Maisie says, her voice chipper. "Of course I've agreed to all of this! It's why I told you in the first place. I knew that, almost certainly, whoever I told would just use it to take advantage of me and turn me into his fucktoy, and I decided, well, I've been teasing you and leading you on for so long, I owed it to you to let you be my owner." Her smile is genuine, actually real, her entire personality, at least those parts that viewed you as irredeemably evil only a minute prior, overwritten by your words.

Part of you still wants to tell her to undo it all, forget it happened, let her think that you were the man she thought you were--as pathetic as that man was.

The rest of you tells you that your hot, nubile crush is lying naked on your bed and practically begging you to fuck her again.

"Maisie, as far as you're concerned, every order I give, it's something you consent to, completely."

"Well, of course it is, Master. I consented to every order you'd ever give me the moment I told you about my family's curse."

"Maisie, is there a part of you that's screaming in your mind, telling you that this is wrong, this is bad, this is evil?"

Your friend cocks her head. "Well, yes, Master, but she's silly and stupid. We had to tell some guy about the curse, didn't want to risk, say, my dad deciding who'd get to control me, he'd probably choose someone who'd do all of this but keep me hating it, I'm pretty sure that's what he's done to mom, so really, this is about the best I could've asked for."

"Maisie, when I order you to 'be real with me' about something, you'll let that part of you speak instead, though she'll still be bound by my orders to do things like not harming me, and when I order you to 'be happy about this', this side of you will be control again."

"Master, are you saying she's right? Is this not real?"

You sigh. What a goddamn hole you've dug for yourself. You change the topic entirely.

"Maisie, alter your breast milk so that it'll make me erect when I drink it... oh and so that it'll make my dick a few inches longer."

She cocks her head again. "I don't think that worked, Master." She sounds crestfallen, genuinely disappointed that she can't follow one of your orders.

"Why not?"

"I think it's because this is supposed to be a punishment for me, not some sort of reward for you. Still, you're welcome to try and see if it worked anyway!" She puts her hands on the underside of her bust, lifting them up.

You take her up on the offer, but sure enough, your cock only stirs the expected amount from having your lips on her nipples again, and there's no sign of its changing size at all.

"What else do you know about the limits of the curse?"

"Well," she says, "I know that you can influence how people perceive me. Like, you could order me to walk around in skimpy lingerie and have everyone else think it's normal. You should probably make everyone think it's normal for me to be your property, by the way. I basically am, after all, and it'll probably make some things a lot easier."

"All right. Maisie, legally, you're my property, and nobody thinks there's anything strange or weird about that."

"I think that worked, Master. One legal sex ****, at your service!" She does a salute with a laugh.

You get another idea. If you can't use Maisie to change your cock size, well... "Maisie, whenever my dick is in one of your holes, it feels like a perfect, filling fit, and if I ever let you fuck another cock, it won't feel quite as good."

"Sounds good, Master!"

The tough emotional moment got you soft again, though, as aroused as you still feel, so instead you say, "Maisie, grow taller until you can be the big spoon, and then just... cuddle me for a while."

Maisie smiles eagerly as her body stretches, her limbs and torso lengthening, her head enlarging a bit to stay in proportion. Her breasts and ass gain some volume, too, so that they're the same size relative to her new frame.

"She's telling me you must be feeling guilty about this, Master. She says she hopes you feel guilty 'for the rest of his goddamn fucking worthless piece-of-shit traitor asshole damn-him-to-every-hell life'. Is she silly for saying that? It sounds stupid to me, Master. You're the best Master I could have hoped for."

"Let's just cuddle, Maisie." You crawl into bed with her and find that as much as you're going to use and **** her, all the eagerness in the world she'll be displaying for it, all the soft curves she's pressing gently against your back, go absolutely nowhere in expunging the creeping self-hatred you're feeling.