Basking in the glow.

The night blankets the Big Apple in its sacred dark and summons the glittering city of legend, setting buildings aflame with the modern torches, neon signs, and animated billboards that have been iconic for the island of Manhattan. Were it not for the apartment building immediately outside your window, you might even have a way to enjoy the view, but as it is now you don't even care: you prefer where you are now, naked and cool in your apartment, kept from shivering with the sweat on your body thanks to the two women who flank you: Devi, with her ample breasts pressed on your back and her arms wrapped across your stomach, and Ophelia, her massive right nipple in your mouth. You've finally drunk it dry after almost an hour of suckling, and feel invigorated to go yet again... but this is a peace you don't wish to ruin, here betwixt loving slaves.

Ophelia's hands stroke your hair as you continue to prod her with your tongue, despite having your fill. You look up and see that serene smile... not so different from before she was enslaved, begging you for this bastardized freedom. "Master..."

"Derek."

She meets your gaze and giggles. "Must I? Then I must." She lets the silence hang between you as she looks past you to the half-sleeping form of Devi. "You know, he never let me call him anything but daddy, and when we wed I could only call him 'love' or 'husband'... He was very strict about it." She's your ****, certainly... but more manipulative than you'd have given her credit for.

You withdraw from her tit and raise up in the bed, bringing your face closer to Ophelia's. Devi whines at your movement until she feels your cock nudge against her hands. She begins stroking you while kissing your ass lovingly, but your attention is focused on the wife you've just stolen. Freed, you correct yourself.

"Then call me whatever you want," you whisper, "I just don't like being called Master... it reminds me that I have alot to fix."

She nods, grinning. "'Derek' it is." A moment after her decision, baby Lazarus can be heard crying in the living room. She snakes her arm out from under you... but then shoots you a worried look.

As if you would order her to ignore her baby. "Go on," you whisper, "the baby comes first." Her eyes glitter as she smiles at you... and her hand comes to rest gently on her belly, where your own son or daughter begins to grow.

"Thank you," she hastily whispers as she makes her exit. Devi seems intent on keeping you in bed until you order her to release your manhood, and soon you're both walking out to witness the quintessential 21st-century human mother: voluptuous and fertile, nursing her child in the fluorescent light, framed by all manner of laboratory equipment. It strikes you in a way other than beauty, but beautiful is as close to an appreciation as you can manage. Too beautiful to keep locked up. You carve it into your heart: you would see her free, one day... but for now, she seems content to please you, and you owe it to her to give her all the comfort she was never afforded by her former master.

You walk up to this goddess of breeding, admire the light freckles, and find yourself drawn to pinching her sore right nipple. She gives you a playfully scolding look as she nurses. "You're lucky he likes the left one the most... I can't believe how much you drank."

You caress her right boob with both hands, gently massaging it as an apology. She fidgets, but continues feeding her child until he has his fill and, with a content look under those weirdly thick eyebrows, he drifts back into sleep. "You're feeding two, now," you half-joke... until Devi walks up to her, eyeing her chest.

"Derek, if I... may I...?" She looks more to you for permission than Ophelia, the latter bewildered by the lesbian's attention.

You caress her head of black hair as she continues to ogle Ophelia's dripping tit. "Well... make that three, Ophelia." Before she can offer her half-hearted protest, Devi all but pounces on her boob, sucking greedily while letting her hands roam across the mother's body. "Enjoy yourself, Ophelia... when I'm not around, feel free to indulge the others, and yourself with them." Her only responses are moans as Devi digs between her legs with greedy fingers.

Lazarus remains quietly sleeping as his bi-curious mother explores Devi's body in turn. Fat with mother's milk, you'd learn that he keeps pretty quiet and sleepy when he gets his fill, which is a blessing for neighbors worried about the sudden presence of a baby in your or Devi's apartments.

Lazarus. The son of Devi's vertical neighbor. The son of...

You start to get dressed, intent on tying a loose end. Your lovers all but moan for you to join them, but you remain resolute.

"No... I have to take care of this," you announce, staring at Ophelia with a fire in your eyes. "We avoided him... but he must be punished."