Home Experiment

David walked back home, the weight of the morning’s events pressing down on him like a physical ****. The coffee from Brew Haven sat heavy in his stomach, its bitter aftertaste lingering as he replayed the surreal encounter with Lila, the barista, and the casual greetings of “Master” from every woman he’d passed. The world outside his house was no longer a refuge from the strangeness—it was an extension of it, a reality where every woman saw him as “Master” for reasons he couldn’t grasp. His steps slowed as he approached his front door, the familiar sight of the neat lawn and faded mailbox doing little to ease his unease. He wasn’t sure he could handle another round of his mom and sister’s unwavering devotion, but he had nowhere else to go.

The door creaked as he pushed it open, and almost immediately, Ellen appeared from the living room, her auburn hair still tied back, her apron dusted with flour from whatever she’d been working on in the kitchen. Her face lit up with that same unsettling warmth, a smile that was both maternal and servile. “Welcome back, Master,” she said, her voice soft and eager. “Do you need anything? I was just starting lunch, but I can get you something else if you’d like.”

David hesitated in the entryway, kicking off his sneakers and letting the door close behind him. The normalcy of the house—the faint hum of the TV, the smell of something baking—clashed with the chaos in his mind. He dropped his jacket on the hook and ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. “Mom,” he said, his voice low, “do you know that every woman calls me Master? Like, not just you and Mia—every woman out there?”

Ellen tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly, but her smile didn’t waver. “Of course, Master. Every woman calls you Master. It’s just… how it is. Like a fact of life.” She said it with the same calm certainty she’d used to explain her and Mia’s obedience yesterday, as if it were as obvious as the sun rising.

David’s heart sank deeper. He’d suspected it after the coffee shop, but hearing his mom confirm it so casually made it real in a way he wasn’t ready for. “So, it’s not just you two,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “It’s everyone. Every single woman.”

Ellen nodded, stepping closer, her hands clasped in front of her. “Yes, Master. You’re the Master. Everyone knows that. Is something wrong? You seem troubled.”

He opened his mouth to respond, to try to explain the impossibility of it all, but the words caught in his throat. What was the point? She wouldn’t understand—she couldn’t. To her, this was normal, immutable, the way the world had always been. Instead, he found himself fixating on the other piece of this reality, the one he’d stumbled into at the coffee shop. The casualness of Lila’s response, the way she’d treated a blowjob like it was nothing more than a friendly gesture, had lodged itself in his mind, a dangerous curiosity he couldn’t shake.

He swallowed, his face heating as he **** the words out. “Mom, uh… would you… suck my cock?” The question felt wrong, grotesque even, but he needed to test the boundaries of this reality, to understand how far it went with his mom and sister compared to the women outside.

Ellen’s expression didn’t change—no shock, no hesitation, just that same devoted warmth. “Of course, Master,” she said, as if he’d asked her to make him a sandwich. She stepped closer, her movements calm and purposeful, and knelt in front of him in the entryway. The act was swift, practiced, as if it were a routine part of their lives. David’s mind reeled, a mix of guilt, confusion, and fascination warring within him as she proceeded without a hint of ****.

When she finished, she stood, smoothing her apron and smiling softly. “Is there anything else you need, Master?”

David’s heart pounded, his mind racing to process what had just happened. Lila had agreed to the same act without blinking, but she’d drawn a hard line at sex, calling it too personal. His mom, though—her obedience seemed boundless, tied to her belief that she was his to command. He needed to know how far that went. “Mom,” he said, his voice shaky, “would you… have sex with me?”

Ellen’s smile didn’t falter. “If that’s what you wish, Master,” she said simply, her tone as calm as ever. She gestured toward the living room, where the couch sat under a throw blanket. “Here, or would you prefer somewhere else?”

David’s breath caught, his stomach twisting with a mix of horror and realization. He held up a hand quickly. “No, wait, I… I was just asking. I didn’t mean—let’s not do that.” The words tumbled out, his guilt winning out over his curiosity. He couldn’t cross that line, not with his own mother, no matter how this reality twisted things.

Ellen nodded, unfazed. “As you wish, Master. I’m here for whatever you need.” She turned back toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Lunch will be ready soon. Would you like to eat in the dining room or the kitchen?”

“Kitchen’s fine,” David said weakly, sinking onto the couch in the living room. His head was spinning. The encounter with Lila had shown him that non-**** women—those who called him Master but didn’t see themselves as his property—were willing to perform certain acts, like blowjobs, as casually as they’d offer a smile. But sex was off-limits, a boundary tied to personal attraction or choice. His mom and sister, though, were different. Their belief that they were his slaves meant they’d do anything he asked, no matter how ****, without question or hesitation. The power was absolute, and it terrified him.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the faint sound of Ellen humming in the kitchen mixing with the TV’s low drone. Mia was probably upstairs, maybe still on her phone, ready to obey his every whim just like their mom. He could ask them for anything—anything—and they’d comply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The thought made his skin crawl, not because of the acts themselves, but because of what it meant about his place in this reality. He wasn’t just a guy anymore. He was something else, something bigger, and he didn’t want it.

He thought about the women outside—Clara, Lila, the others in the coffee shop. They had their own lives, their own boundaries. They called him Master, but they weren’t his to control, not like his mom and sister. The distinction was clear now: regular women saw “Master” as a title, a universal truth, but they retained their autonomy. His mom and sister, though, were bound to him in a way that went beyond reason, beyond what he could stomach.

David stood, needing to move, to shake off the weight of it all. He wandered to the kitchen, where Ellen was setting out plates for lunch—grilled sandwiches and a bowl of fruit salad. She glanced up, her smile warm. “Master, it’s almost ready. Would you like me to call Mia down?”

“Yeah, sure,” David said, his voice distant. He sat at the table, staring at the wood grain, his mind still grappling with the rules of this world. Every woman called him Master, but only his mom and sister saw themselves as his slaves. He could do whatever he wanted with them, no limits, no questions. The power was intoxicating and sickening all at once.

Mia bounced into the kitchen, her ponytail swinging. “Hey, Master! How was your walk?” She slid into a chair, grabbing an apple slice from the bowl. “Want me to get you a drink or something?”

“No, I’m good,” David said, forcing a small smile. He needed to keep things normal, or as normal as they could be. Lunch, conversation, maybe another movie—anything to avoid testing the limits of this reality further. He didn’t trust himself with that kind of power, not yet, maybe not ever.

As they ate, Ellen and Mia chatted lightly—about a show Mia was watching, about a recipe Ellen wanted to try—always addressing him as Master, always deferring to him with every glance and word. David nodded along, half-listening, his mind elsewhere. He needed answers, a way to undo this, but for now, he was trapped in a world where every woman saw him as something he wasn’t, and his own family saw him as something even more. All he could do was keep going, one step at a time, and hope he’d find a way out before he lost himself in it.