House Rules

David sat at the kitchen table, the remnants of lunch—a few crumbs from grilled sandwiches and an empty fruit bowl—still scattered across the surface. Ellen was clearing the plates, humming softly, while Mia scrolled on her phone, occasionally glancing at him with that same eager, expectant look she’d had since this strange reality began. The weight of the morning’s discoveries pressed on him: every woman in the world calling him “Master,” the casual way Lila at the coffee shop had complied with his request, and the chilling realization that his mom and sister would do anything he asked, no matter how ****. The power was overwhelming, a temptation he didn’t want but couldn’t ignore. He needed to understand its limits, to set some kind of structure to this chaos, even if it was just within the walls of his home.

He took a deep breath, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. “Mom, Mia,” he said, his voice steady but laced with unease, “I want to set some… ground rules for the house. Just to, uh, make things clear.”

Ellen paused, setting a plate in the sink and turning to face him, her expression attentive. “Of course, Master. Whatever you command.”

Mia looked up from her phone, her blue eyes bright with curiosity. “Yeah, Master, what’s up? New rules sound kinda fun.”

David’s stomach churned. Their casual acceptance of his authority made every word feel heavier, but he pressed on, driven by a need to test the boundaries of their obedience. “Okay, first rule: when you’re in the house, you both have to be… naked. All the time.”

The words hung in the air, and David braced himself for some kind of reaction—shock, hesitation, anything. But Ellen simply nodded, her face as calm as if he’d asked her to change the thermostat. “As you wish, Master,” she said. Without pause, she untied her apron, folded it neatly on the counter, and began unbuttoning her blouse. Mia, equally unfazed, set her phone down and stood, pulling off her t-shirt and shimmying out of her jeans with the same ease she’d shown hopping up to pour him coffee yesterday.

Within moments, both were standing in the kitchen, completely bare, their clothes neatly folded on a chair. Ellen’s posture was relaxed, her hands clasped in front of her, while Mia leaned casually against the counter, one hip cocked, as if this were just another day. Neither showed a hint of embarrassment or ****. To them, this was normal, an extension of their role as his “slaves.”

David’s face burned, his mind a tangle of guilt and fascination. He hadn’t expected them to comply so quickly, so unquestioningly. The reality of their obedience was stark, undeniable. He swallowed, forcing himself to stay composed. “Okay,” he said, his voice quieter now. “That’s… good. Uh, second rule: whenever you’re near me in the house, you have to… play with my cock.”

Again, he waited for a reaction, some sign that he’d crossed a line. But Ellen’s expression remained serene, her nod as automatic as before. “Of course, Master,” she said, stepping closer to him, her hands already moving with a gentle, practiced ease to undo his belt. Mia grinned, sliding over to join her, her fingers brushing against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Got it, Master,” Mia said, her tone light, almost playful. “Anything else you want us to do?”

David’s heart pounded, his breath catching as they began, their touch casual yet deliberate, like they were performing a routine task. The kitchen, with its warm light and lingering scent of lunch, felt surreal, a stage for a reality he couldn’t fully grasp. He sat frozen, his mind racing. This was what he’d asked for, a test of their obedience, but seeing it play out—his mom and sister complying without a flicker of doubt—made the weight of his power feel heavier than ever.

He held up a hand, his voice shaky. “Okay, hold on. Just… stop for a second.”

Ellen and Mia paused instantly, their hands retreating as they looked at him, waiting for his next command. Ellen’s green eyes were soft, concerned. “Is something wrong, Master? Did we displease you?”

“No, it’s not that,” David said quickly, rubbing his face. “I just… I’m trying to figure this out. You’re doing exactly what I say, no questions, no hesitation. It’s… a lot.”

Mia tilted her head, her ponytail swinging slightly despite her lack of clothes. “But that’s how it’s supposed to be, Master. You’re our Master. We do what you want. It’s, like, our job.”

Ellen nodded, her voice gentle. “It’s our place, Master. We’re here to serve you, in any way you desire. If these rules make you happy, we’re happy to follow them.”

David leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Their words echoed what he’d heard yesterday, what he’d seen at the coffee shop, but it was different here. Lila and the other women outside called him Master but drew lines—blowjobs were casual, sex was personal. His mom and sister, though, had no lines, no boundaries. They’d stripped naked and touched him without a second thought, and they’d do it again the moment he asked. The realization settled over him like a cold fog: he could do whatever he wanted with them, anything at all, and they’d comply as if it were nothing.

He stood, needing to move, to break the moment. “Alright, uh, that’s enough for now,” he said, his voice strained. “You can… keep the rules, but just… go back to what you were doing. I need to think.”

“As you command, Master,” Ellen said, turning back to the sink to finish the dishes, her movements as calm as ever despite her nudity. Mia grabbed her phone and flopped onto a chair, scrolling again, her casual demeanor unchanged.

David wandered into the living room, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. He sank onto the couch, staring at the blank TV screen. The rules he’d set—nakedness, constant physical attention—were now in place, and his mom and sister had accepted them without a blink. He could push further, demand more, and they’d obey. The thought was both thrilling and horrifying. He didn’t want this power, not really, but it was there, undeniable, and part of him couldn’t stop testing it, probing the edges of this warped reality.

He thought back to the coffee shop, to Lila’s easy agreement to a blowjob and her sharp refusal of sex. The distinction was clear: women outside his house saw “Master” as a title, not a claim of ownership. They’d go along with certain acts—blowjobs, apparently, were as casual as a handshake in this world—but anything more was their choice, their boundary. His mom and sister, though, were different. Their belief that they were his slaves meant no request was too much, no act too far. He could ask for anything—sex, servitude, the most **** whims—and they’d comply, smiling, as if it were their purpose.

David’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to be this person, someone who wielded absolute control over his own family. But the rules he’d set were in motion now, and he could already hear Ellen moving around in the kitchen, Mia humming softly as she scrolled. They were following his commands, living by his words, and every moment he spent in this house would be shaped by that power.

David paced the living room, the soft hum of the house doing little to calm his racing thoughts. The new “ground rules” he’d set—his mom and sister’s immediate compliance, their nakedness, their willingness to touch him whenever he was near—hung over him like a dark cloud. Every creak of the floorboards, every faint clink from the kitchen where Ellen was tidying up, reminded him of the absolute power he held in this house. It was too much, too unnatural, and he needed help to make sense of it. His therapist, Dr. Mark Reynolds, had always been a steady voice, someone who could cut through his anxiety with calm, rational questions. If anyone could help him navigate this bizarre reality, it was Mark.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers hesitating over the contact list. The idea of explaining this to anyone felt daunting, but he couldn’t keep spiraling alone. He hit the call button for Mark’s office, his heart pounding as the line rang.

A woman’s voice answered, bright and professional. “Good afternoon, Master. This is Dr. Reynolds’ office, Sarah speaking. How can I assist you?”

David’s breath hitched at the now-familiar title, but he **** himself to push through it. “Uh, hi, Sarah. I’d like to set up an appointment with Dr. Reynolds. And, um, is there any chance I could talk to him real quick?”

Sarah’s tone remained cheerful, unfazed. “Of course, Master. Let me check his schedule for an appointment, and I’ll see if he’s available to speak now. One moment.” There was a brief pause, the sound of typing, then her voice returned. “Dr. Reynolds is just finishing with a client. I can transfer you to him in a minute or two. As for an appointment, he’s pretty booked today, but I can check for openings. Did you want something soon?”

“Yeah, if possible, later today,” David said, his voice tight. “And I’d need to bring my mom and sister with me.”

“Noted, Master,” Sarah said, her tone as casual as if he’d asked for a morning slot. “I’ll let Dr. Reynolds know about the appointment request. Hold on, I’m transferring you now.”

The line clicked, and after a brief moment of hold music—some generic piano melody—Mark’s familiar voice came through, calm and steady. “David, good to hear from you. What’s going on?”

David exhaled, sinking onto the couch, grateful to hear a male voice that didn’t carry the weight of “Master.” “Hey, Mark. I’ve got… a lot going on. Quick question: are you aware that women—every woman—calls me Master?”

There was a slight pause, not of surprise but of consideration, as if Mark were choosing his words. “Yes, David, I’m aware. It’s… how things are, right? Women refer to you as Master. It’s a known thing.”

David’s grip tightened on the phone. Even Mark, with his degrees and his calm professionalism, accepted this as normal. “Okay, yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, his voice strained. “I need to see you, Mark. Like, today, if you can swing it. And I want to bring my mom and sister. I’m… concerned about their behavior.”

Mark hummed thoughtfully. “Today’s tight, David. Last-minute appointments are tricky, but let me see what I can do.” There was a rustle, likely Mark checking his calendar. “I’ve got a cancellation at 4:00 PM. I can fit you in then, with your mom and sister. Can you make that work?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” David said, relief washing over him. “4:00 PM works.”

“Good,” Mark said. “Now, you mentioned concern about your mom and sister’s behavior. Can you give me a quick sense of what’s going on? Just so I’m prepared.”

David hesitated, glancing toward the kitchen where Ellen was wiping down the counter, her bare form moving with the same serene purpose she’d shown all morning. Mia’s voice drifted from upstairs, probably on her phone again. He lowered his voice, though he doubted they’d care if they overheard. “They’re… acting like they’re my slaves,” he said. “Like, they think they belong to me, that they have to do anything I say. It’s not just the ‘Master’ thing—it’s different with them. They’re… too obedient. It’s freaking me out.”

Mark’s tone remained steady, professional. “I hear you, David. That sounds like it’s causing you a lot of distress. We’ll dive into it when you come in, with your mom and sister there to give their perspective. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” David said, though his stomach twisted at the thought of Ellen and Mia explaining their behavior in that calm, matter-of-fact way. “Thanks, Mark. See you at 4:00.”

“Take care, David,” Mark said, and the call ended with a soft click.

David set his phone down, exhaling shakily. The living room felt too quiet, the weight of the new “ground rules” still lingering in the air. Ellen stepped out of the kitchen, her hands folded neatly in front of her, her nudity as unremarkable to her as the dishes she’d just washed. “Master, who were you calling?” she asked, her voice gentle but curious.

David looked up, his throat tight. “My therapist, Dr. Reynolds,” he said. “We’re going to his office later today, at 4:00. You and Mia are coming with me.”

Ellen nodded, her smile warm and unquestioning. “Of course, Master. Should I prepare anything for the visit? Or let Mia know?”

“Yeah, tell Mia,” David said, standing and running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna… go upstairs for a bit. Just let me know when it’s time to head out.”

“As you wish, Master,” Ellen said, turning to head upstairs, presumably to find Mia.

David watched her go, the surreal normalcy of her obedience gnawing at him. He climbed the stairs to his room, needing space to process before the appointment. The rules he’d set were still in effect, and the ease with which Ellen and Mia complied only deepened his unease. He could still see them in his mind, stripping without hesitation, touching him without question. Meanwhile, every woman outside called him Master but maintained their own boundaries, like Lila’s casual blowjob and firm refusal of anything more.

He closed his bedroom door and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. The therapist’s office might not provide answers, but it was his only shot at understanding this reality. Maybe Mark could help him see it clearly, or at least give him a way to cope with the overwhelming power he didn’t ask for. Until then, he’d have to navigate the next few hours in a house where his every word was law, and hope he could hold himself together until 4:00.