Nothing, and everything you want

Alex went looking for him right away. "Want to watch?"

"Watch what?"

"The girls. And their mom. What else?"

"You put cameras in there? Alex, seriously, that's not okay, that woman's been through hell, give her a little normalcy fo fuck sake."

"No."

"No? What do you mean, no?"

"She doesn't need normalcy. She needs a one-way ticket straight to heaven."

"Alex..."

"You know it. Deep down, you know it — if you actually thought she needed normalcy, you wouldn't have gotten into bed with her, wouldn't have dropped the whole angel-business speech on her out of nowhere, wouldn't have told her about her little two incestuous daughters."

He almost got indignant — hadn't done any of it with that intention, or had he? But he remembered exactly who this woman was underneath the bombshell-blonde disguise, forced himself to trust her. "...Yeah... I guess it'd be nice to watch, yeah."

"Obviously. I only asked out of politeness — how could you not want to watch an incestuous lesbian threesome, I'm dripping just thinking about it."

In Alex's studio, the massive screen behind the cameras was already lit up — the bed, the three of them wrapped together, tender despite the nakedness.

"They'll be a while — lots to say to each other first."

They were talking through how Helen had ended up there in the first place.

"In the meantime..." Alex started kissing him with her usual hunger and want, pushing him onto the bed and climbing on top, sinking down onto him.

She bounced on him nonstop, moaning theatrically as always, but even louder now — screams a little exaggerated even by her standards.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?" he whispered in her ear, still thrusting into her.

"What I do best. Getting people worked up," the blonde answered right back, between moans.

She was very good at it, no question — good enough to make millions off it.

"Is he an angel? Literally?" Celia asked.

They could hear the screams of a girl clearly through the walls; her daughters didn't seem bothered in the slightest — used to it, she figured. Whoever it was sounded like she was flying straight up to heaven, for sure.

"Yeah, and yeah, he does the things he told you, and plenty more — don't overthink the whole bible stuff, but he's a literal guardian angel," Helen said.

"Jen's not exactly a normal girl either," Eve added.

"Your friend?" she said, looking at Helen. "Dark hair, really smart, prettier than anyone has any right to be?"

"That's her."

"Huh... I remember her being very... I don't know, proper. Even your dad liked her. Not the other one for sure."

"The other one's the one giving us a concert right now," Eve said.

"That's what happens once you know him — you lose everything that doesn't make you happy. Jen's always been supernaturally smart, and always looked like a Greek goddess, because she basically is one, but once she met him, she lost all her hangups and started wanting to feel good, and found her purpose along the way. Same as everyone else."

"A goddess."

"Yeah, well, technically an Avatar — our Avatar, women's Avatar. She's the boss."

"Oh, well, I liked her, glad to hear it."

"Everyone does. Perks of being the boss," Eve said.

"They're trying to... make what happens here happen everywhere. Trying to turn the world into a happy place for us, and by extension, for everyone. They don't have a universal consciousness the way we do, but they've got an NGO, and Jen runs the whole operation... I don't envy her, the weight of the world's a lot for one person, even a goddess, but together they're capable of anything, no doubt about it"

"I wish." Celia's expression darkened; she was thinking about her husband.

"Forget about it, Mom, seriously, just let it go, I promise none of that matters anymore, trust us."

Eve stroked her cheeks and kissed her — she wanted to, and her mother wanted her to. The screams from the other room, the three of them naked together, and Celia's own repressed desires all converged, letting her release her sense of right and wrong.

So she stayed there, between her daughters, who started kissing and touching her everywhere, and they must have been right, because she didn't feel bad, didn't feel guilty — she felt happiness, knowing these weren't just her own twisted urges, that they wanted it too. When Helen settled between her legs and started licking her, Eve wrapped her arms around her and whispered in her ear how badly she'd wanted to do exactly this, since she was a teenager, how much it turned her on seeing her mother naked in the shower, how she used to imagine sneaking into her room to punish her for being a rebellious daughter, forcing her to her knees to lick her until she came on her face, laying her over her lap, lifting the little skirt of her school uniform, discovering she wasn't wearing panties underneath, spanking her, fingering her, making her confess she'd been a bad girl trying to turn her own mother on, between moans of pleasure.

She came right then, and several more times after — tasted her daughters everywhere, fingered them while asking if they liked it, if mommy was making them feel good, and ended up recreating Eve's fantasy word for word, under the watchful eye of her other daughter, who touched herself frantically at the sight.

Celia devoured the plate in front of her — she hadn't eaten in many hours, hadn't wanted to interrupt the house tour or the introductions to everyone living there, especially Ari, what a woman, could've been Wonder Woman made flesh. But the maid finally asked her to follow her to the kitchen, where she had prepared something that looked and smelled too good to resist, starving as she was. The maid stayed, standing there, watching her. She had an exaggerated, surgical look, sexy in their own way, like something out of an Eastern European escort catalog — but Celia was already light-years past judging anything. Thoughts like that crossed her mind and she let them pass through without holding on. She had questions about how someone ended up this way, but didn't want to be rude — everyone had treated her so well here, she wasn't about to spoil it.

Finally, the so-called goddess walked in, wearing a smile more beautiful than any she'd ever seen.

"Don't get up," she said, as she sat down herself, her husband following behind.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but there's no rush either," Jennifer added, catching the way Celia kept glancing at Rose.

"Ask," Nick said.

"What?"

"You want to know why and how she looks like that. Ask."

"I wasn't going to—"

"Rose?"

"When I met my lord master, I wasn't comfortable in my body. And the same thing happened to me that happens to everyone who meets him — once I was free to be exactly what I wanted, this is what I wanted. And to serve my lord master and lady mistress, and everyone they bring here to be happy. I'm the happiest person in this house, and probably in the world."

"Thank you, Rose." Nick winked at her; she stayed impassive in her role, of course.

"Wow... does it hurt a lot?"

"Some parts take longer to heal than others."

"The lips?" she said immediately, since that door was already open.

"Injections. Swollen for a couple of days, even at that size, it's honestly one of the least painful parts."

"Ah..."

"Do you like them?" Jennifer asked.

"I don't... yeah, well, maybe not that big, but I've always thought they look great, I mean..."

"Nick already told you, you can do whatever you want. I'm not saying go get surgery tomorrow, but look into it, if it appeals to you," Jennifer said.

"What? That costs a fortune, I don't even know how I'm going to support myself, I've been a housewife since... god, I don't even remember anymore."

"Not a problem. When I said forget every worry — I meant every one, that one included," Nick said.

"What are you telling me, that I can do whatever I want with everything paid for?"

"Essentially."

"And if I want to... hit the casino and blow thousands of bucks?"

"Do you want to?"

"No."

"I know you don't. I know you're trying to find the limit, calculate where the line is so you don't cross it, so you don't get in trouble," Jennifer said. "There's no line here. Not for any particular reason — it's just not needed. Just focus on being happy. Trust me. Trust us." Said Jen tenderly.

She sat with that a while.

"Are you what my girls say you are?"

"Yes," she said, plain and simple — a firm yes without losing her smile. Nick knew his nature made her uncomfortable, but with Celia she was solid, leaving no room for doubt — she deserved the title, and the devotion, without question.

"Okay... so what do I do?"

"Nothing, and everything you want. You wanted to sleep with your daughters, so you did, and it made you happy, and them too. Keep doing that. No one's going to tell you no to anything, and you're not going to ask anyone for anything they don't want to give. That's how this place works — it's our angel's main gift."

Nick rolled his eyes — he wasn't as graceful or as sure of himself as his wife; his own nature made him uncomfortable too, and he couldn't help acting like it.

"Yeah, they told me..." She thought for a while. "I'm sorry."

Nick opened his mouth to protest — he hated her constantly apologizing for nothing at all, wanted to free her of the guilt — but his wife beat him to it.

"Yes, he's my husband, but no, you haven't done anything wrong, you don't have to apologize. I want him to do it. I like it. I like watching it live. I like listening to it through the walls... a lot... so much. But mostly I like the effect it has on everyone who tries him."

"Okay..."

"Great," Jennifer said, finally.

She sat with it a while longer.

"I want... I want lips people want to kiss. And breasts people want to..."

"Cool," Nick declared.

Then Celia kept turning something over a while longer, her eyes welling up.

She looked at Jennifer, tears sliding down her cheeks, and Jennifer already knew what was coming, already knew it couldn't happen — too much at stake. She cried with her, held her.

"I'm truly sorry, Celia," Nick said, knowing where this was headed too. "But that's the one thing we can't give you. I swear on everything I love in this house — if I could change him, and every man like him, I would, without a second thought. But I can't. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said through tears. "You're giving me everything already. You've made my girls happy, and now me too — I already owe you everything. I just figured there was no harm in asking."

"I'm sorry."

Nick stood up. His wife was right, as always — he hated that. It filled him with rage, watching a woman want something and not being able to run to her aid. He caught himself, unwillingly, imagining scenarios where he beat some sense into that miserable man, taught him to actually love, or just threw him through a wall — but he knew he couldn't even try. It would be the end of his wife's dream. He wouldn't be the angel she needed him to be. And that filled him with a fury he could barely control — he could do almost anything without much effort at all, and here he was, told to do nothing. It was torture.