The car slows, then stops; the passenger door opens.

The guy inside is not that much older than Chris, if at all. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. Cute face, ambiguous ethnicity, dressed much less expensively than his car in jeans and a black leather jacket.

Oh, nice. Hot guy in an expensive car.

He ups his prices, because the car's expensive and he really wants to go home. "Blowjob's sixty bucks, you can fuck me in the ass for one twenty."

"I'll take a blowjob, get in."

Rich dude must think it's his first night. 

"Cash first."

He rolls his eyes, digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulls a bill out of it without paying much attention. It's a hundred. "I'm not cheap, just impatient."

Awesome. Six Flags here he comes.

Chris ducks behind the car so rich guy can't see, tries to figure out whether to stash it in his boot or the secret pocket in his pants, and decides the pants are more secure.

Then he puts on his best sexy-client smile and enters the car. He'll give this guy a good performance. Maybe kiss him a bit. Acting turned on won't even be hard, he can feel himself getting horny at the guy's smile. Fuck.

Maybe rich guy will hurt him.

Rich guy smiles at him, and rolls up the windows, and looks at him like he's a bowl of ice cream waiting for a spoon—

—and then his eyes glow gold, a colour like fire and sunlight, and the doors lock audibly without him touching anything, and the windows go black so the only light in the car is his eyes, and Chris can't move, and the rich guy who may or may not be some sort of demon is grabbing him by the back of the neck and dragging his head down. His touch burns like a brand.

...hot. 

A different person would remark on how "hot" is not a normal reaction to being fucked by a maybe demon, and perhaps should lead people to be concerned about his judgment, but Chris did not get to where he is today by questioning his ill-advised impulses, so what Chris thinks is "hot."

His fake sexy-client face turns into a sort of blissed-out snarl that is very, very real. 

Oh that's fun. Now he wants to hurt him some more.

Rather than deal with the logistics of taking Chris's shirt off for better access to skin, he decides to find out if his magic powers can teleport all of Chris's clothes into a pile in the tiny cargo area behind the seats. It looks like they can! And now there's this whole entire back for him to run his hands over, burning and healing and burning again, with Chris's face pinned in his lap, pressing against his extremely obvious hard-on through his jeans. After a few seconds of this, he un-paralyzes him.

When Sean teleports off Chris's clothes, he'll discover that Chris has small breasts and a vagina.

Chris, however, completely fails to process that this outed him; he's not thinking much of anything at all except that he loves the sensation of being burned, he loves being touched, he loves being close to the dick, he wants to hurt and he wants Sean to be turned on by him hurting and he wants to be good--

Well, he'll get the opportunity to discover that; the discovery itself is delayed by the fact that Sean has Chris pinned lying face down with his head in Sean's lap in very dim light, and is also kind of distracted.

He does notice after another minute, though, when he idly reaches down to grope Chris's crotch (with burning fingers). Huh. That's not what he expected to find there.

Chris would probably have some opinions about this discovery if his clit weren't being burned at the time. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-- he comes-- fuck fuck fuck fuck--

This just keeps getting more fun! He's almost distracted from that blowjob he wanted! Almost.

He grabs the back of Chris's neck again, opens his fly and pulls out his dick and shoves it in Chris's mouth. It'll be fun to find out if Chris has the focus to suck cock with Sean's hand burning his neck.

Sean is not getting a particularly skilled blowjob, but Chris has sucked kind of a lot of dick over the past five years and has excellent muscle memory. Also, Chris keeps making these little half-choked noises of something between pleasure and pain, which might make up for any deficiencies in his technique.

Those are some excellent noises.

He decides to find out how much pain it takes before Chris totally loses all ability to function. The burning heat at Chris's neck starts spreading over his skin, down his back, wrapping around to cover his chest and stomach.

Chris enjoys more pain than most people. He hadn't, before now, gotten to the edge of his ability to enjoy being hurt with the tools he has available-- rubber bands and knives, clothespins and ginger root, candles and kneeling on rice, Rachel's fists and hands and teeth, the occasional flogger or paddle or cane at the hands of a hookup or client he's reckless enough to sub for. 

This hurts enough to bring him to the edge of too much.

He whimpers, screws his eyes shut, keeps moving around Sean's cock. 

Wow, that's a good reaction. Really good. Really, really good.

The heat spreads farther. Reaches his crotch, covers it and keeps going. Streaks of pain spiral down his arms and legs. Sean's hand squeezes the back of his neck, which in its current blistered state hurts a lot.

That's-- too much-- it's much too much-- he forces himself to move a little bit, stops, can't think, ends up just moaning in genuine agony with his mouth still around Sean's cock. 

He can't think, it hurts, it hurts so much, he's never felt anything this painful in his entire life, he--

That's incredibly fucking hot, and now he's holding Chris's head down and fucking his throat, and he wants to come but he doesn't want to stop but luckily he is magic and can just have both these things. He comes, and his eyes flare gold and his cock is still hard and it still feels just as good to be fucking Chris's face, and then he slows down to let him breathe a little and starts pulling back the heat and healing the burns in its wake, until after a half-minute or so there's just the burn under his hand.

Chris is having his first coherent thought after several minutes of torture. 

His thoughts are fuck I wanted to be paying attention while I swallowed his come, and I'm terrified, and I've never been this turned on before in my life, and jesus fucking christ that hurt, I hope I didn't break something and so, magic is real and fuck fuck fuck fuck that hurt I did not like that at all.

What he says, when he pulls off Sean's dick, is "more please."

He laughs. "Wow," he says, intrigued, "really?"

Chris tries to come up with words for what he wants to say and ends up with, "you can hurt me worse than that."

"I can," he agrees. "I'm a little surprised you want me to. Good surprised, though." He squeezes the burn on the back of Chris's neck.

He hisses.

"I like getting hurt."

"I noticed. It's nice."

He lets go of Chris's neck and trails burning fingers down his spine, strokes his lower back, settles the hand on his hip and squeezes. His eyes are still glowing, but they're not the only source of light in the car anymore; there's a faint ambient light that's more or less enough to see by.

He makes a hissing noise like he's being petted.

Cute!

Sean grabs his crotch again.

Oh fuck that's-- good. That's very very good. 

He's so wet his thighs are damp.

Burning fingers play with his clit for a few seconds, and then Sean lets go. "Wow, you're really something. I like it."

Sean liking him feels like basking in sunlight.

"Is that all you can do, rich guy?" 

He laughs.

"My name's Sean. And no. No it's not."

His fingernails turn to razor-sharp claws, and he slashes Chris's hip and side with them, cutting four deep parallel lines that curve from the front of his hip all the way up to his shoulderblade.

Oh god that's just. Nice. 

(Sean could do anything to him-- he's totally helpless-- Sean could kill him-- next time the claws could go across his throat-- the thought makes him shudder with arousal--)

"Chris Parker."

"Nice to meet you. Suck my dick."

"Yes, sir."

Chris's blowjobs are much more impressive when he is only bleeding and not additionally being tortured. There's a particular combination of lots of practice, natural talent, and unbridled enthusiasm.

Wow that's hot. That's. Yeah that's really fucking hot.

He plays with the cuts, a little—no claws and no burning, just running his fingers over and occasionally into them—and otherwise lets Chris work without distractions this time.

He should definitely put his fingers into Chris's cuts. Chris is extremely enthusiastic about this plan. 

(To be honest, he would not be that much less enthusiastic if Sean couldn't heal him, because Chris has the self-preservation instinct of a toddler who wants to find out why the big metal things make all those loud noises.)

Chris is also very enthusiastic about Sean's dick. Unfortunately, his mouth is too full to express exactly how enthusiastic he is. Chris has to convey his enthusiasm via loud moans and extremely loving use of tongue. He hopes the message is conveyed. 

The message is super, super clear.

"Nice." He digs his fingers into the cuts some more. "I like you. Mmm, fuck," and now he's too distracted by pleasure to keep talking.

Chris says "mmmrmph" into Sean's cock which means "I like you too" or possibly "you should give me a really really good tip, assuming you don't murder me."

His fingers are covered in blood at this point, as is most of Chris, and fuck isn't that just the hottest thing, or maybe the hottest thing is Chris saying 'more please' as his first words after being tortured, or the sounds Chris makes with burning fingers on his clit, or Chris's mouth—Chris's mouth is definitely a top contender here—

Chris is pretty sure the top contenders for hottest thing are in fact being covered in blood, or being tortured, or coming when Sean is burning his clit, or Sean saying "I like you" in that tone of voice that sends shivers down Chris's spine, or Sean's smile, or getting to suck cock, or the fact that Sean can apparently do whatever he wants to Chris-- usually getting to suck cock is one of his favorite things but there is kind of a lot of competition here--

He moans softly and says "good" and comes in Chris's mouth.

Chris whimpers at being called 'good' and swallows Sean's come and very reluctantly removes his mouth from Sean's dick and says "...what can you do to me?"

"I mean, pretty much whatever the fuck I want." He's still hard. "In this car I am basically God. I can hurt you, I can heal you, I can do mind control but I don't really wanna, I could probably turn you into a frog if I felt like it." Speaking of healing... nah, actually, instead of fixing those cuts he's gonna grope them some more.

"...I should probably be more scared about that than I am."

He's a little scared. But mostly what he feels is-- right.

"You probably should be," he agrees. He smooths a hand down over the cuts, healing them, and then shifts his fingernails to claws and drags them back up the same path. "But it kinda looks like you're into it instead."

Whimper.

"I am." He puts his head on Sean's thigh. "Either you eventually get bored and throw me on the street, in which case I'm left with some extremely good memories, or you kill me, which is hot. So I'm good either way." 

Sean pets him. "You're cute. Suck my dick again."

Mm. Very skilled and moderately distracted dicksucking, as Chris is contemplating the implications of 'in this car I am basically God.'

Sean could reshape Chris's body any way he wanted, he could give Chris a dick, he could erase Chris's memories, he could make Chris feel like his first shot of heroin or the first time he blew a cop, he could kill him, he could make him immortal, he could rearrange Chris's entire personality to suit him, he could-- 

Chris could be his. Entirely and completely. As long as they stay in this car. Sean could very literally do whatever he wanted to him.

He could. And he will. And right now he wants another blowjob.

(He finds that he doesn't want to throw Chris on the street minus some extremely good memories. He finds that he really, really doesn't want that, actually. He's kind of wondering what would happen if he just—kept Chris in his car forever—probably there are insurmountable logistical issues with that—and what did the devil he made a deal with mean, exactly, about people who consider themselves yours—)

Chris is a person who sees things that he wants, draws the most direct line to them, and heads straight in that direction.

He doesn't want to go to school, he doesn't want to talk to his parents, and he doesn't want to be a girl; he wants to take drugs and suck dick and hang out with Rachel. His entire life has been pursuing those goals as directly as possible, no matter how much it makes Ron worry or how likely it is that he will die by 21 or that he has to live in a tent. 

Now, he has a new goal. One he wants more than drugs or sex or not going to school. And Chris is not a person who questions or doubts his goals; he is a person who pursues them.

So it probably should not be a surprise to anyone when Chris sits back, bangs his head into the steering wheel, goes "ow" in surprise, adjusts himself to a position approximating kneeling with his head down as well as you can do in the front seat of a car when you have very little practice, and says, "I am yours for as long as you want me. All my heart and soul and mind and body is yours."

...okay Sean has to take a moment to deal with how incredibly fucking hot that is.

Right. Moment over. He says "good," in a soft, intense voice, and he grabs Chris's head and shoves his dick into Chris's mouth again.

Excellent.

Now he's sucking Sean's dick and he belongs to Sean and Sean can do whatever he wants to him and-- there was something missing for Chris's whole life and he found it and it's this-- being owned, being someone's--

The look on Chris's face right now is really something.

Sean comes in Chris's mouth—

—and a spot on Chris's chest burns, not with conjured heat but with otherworldly energy, and then there's a tattoo there, of a sun wreathed in flames. Right over his heart. Sean doesn't notice right away, on account of he's a little busy at the moment.

And now he is Sean's. 

It is a fact as obvious as the fact that he's breathing. He belongs to Sean, the most important thing in life is to make Sean happy, the purpose of his existence is to serve Sean, he is Sean's pet or his toy or his slave or his victim and Chris doesn't care which as long as it's whatever Sean wants. 

(The yearning-- has gone away. Chris is wrapped up enough in the knowledge that he is Sean's that he fails to notice.)

...he did not put that there.

"What just happened," he says—and his eyes glow gold.

He's gonna need a few seconds to process what his magic just told him.

"I'm yours, master."

"I... guess you are."

His eyes glow gold again.

All the extra magic feelings go away. Nothing is making Chris's mind do anything it wouldn't do by itself.

And now he still belongs to Sean and believes the most important purpose of his existence is to serve Sean and wants to be Sean's pet or his toy or his slave or his victim, except now he also kind of wants to throw up. 

"...please don't put those back." He hesitates and adds, "Sir."

"I didn't put them there in the first place, and I don't want 'em. I want you to feel how you feel about things without magic getting in the way."

"I don't. You're allowed to change me, I'm yours, you can do whatever you want to me, but I would rather you didn't change me like that, but you don't have to pay attention to what I think about things because I belong to you. Uh. Sir."

"I'll pay attention to what you think about things exactly as much as I want to." He pets Chris's hair. "You're cute. I'm keeping you. —the thing that just happened is that my magic decided you belong to me, so now I can do whatever I want with you whenever I want, whether you're in my car or not. It's good. I like it. You're good to have."

"Really?"

Sean's Sean's Sean's Sean's Sean's Sean's-- for real, not for pretend, not a game like BDSM, but he really really belongs to someone--

"Really. C'mere." He drags Chris into his lap. Chris being in his lap feels like the correct state of affairs at the moment.

"I don't want magic to make me want to serve you. I want to choose to serve you because I'm yours. Being forced to is"-- he pauses, tries to find the right word, and fails due to the fact that the last time he took an English class he was twelve-- "not right."

"Yeah, I'm pretty much with you there."

This is because Sean is Very Good. 

"...I guess this hasn't happened before?"

"I've only had this power for like two days, it hasn't really had a chance to."

Pet pet pet. Good lapful of Chris.

"And I think the magic thing only happens if somebody already thinks of themselves as mine, or agrees to be mine, or something? And—given timing I guess I also have to fuck them, for some reason? And nobody but you has had much interest in being mine."

"...Huh. I thought you were maybe a demon."

"Nah, a mysterious stranger offered me magical power over everything that's mine or in my territory and I said 'fuck yes'."

Chris briefly considers whether he should have held out for a serving a mysterious stranger before realizing that he is in fact Sean's and wishing he had a better master is Not Right. 

"What do you need from me?"

"Mm... man this'd be a lot easier if I didn't still live with my parents, I could just say 'come home with me'."

"I have a tent."

"I want to keep you, I want to have you around whenever I want you, and if I try to keep you at home my parents will be pissed. Mm—d'you have a phone?"

"Yeah. My brother pays for it so he knows where I am."

He gets out his own phone. "You should give me your number."

He does, and gets Sean's. 

"I don't... know how to do a lot of things."

"Mm? What do you mean?"

"Ran away from home when I was thirteen and since then I've mostly been sucking dick and getting high and trying to avoid cops. But I assume"-- he looks at the car-- "you have no use for the knowledge of which Krispy Kremes don't lock their dumpsters."

"I mean, yeah, you're right about that. And sure, it'd be nice if you were more useful, go ahead and find some things to get good at if you want, but I don't super have like... specific life plans that I need people with specific skills for. I want to get a house somewhere and collect a bunch of magic slaves and live in my house with my magic slaves and probably have a lot of sex. So sucking dick is actually a pretty good thing for you to know how to do. —Speaking of dicks, do you, like, want one?"

"...Yes please."

He pets Chris's hair and changes Chris's body so that it matches the way he keeps expecting it to look whenever he's not super thinking about it. No breasts, yes dick. For some reason his subconscious expectations picture Chris's dick as slightly on the small side of average.

"Good?" he asks, still petting him.

Chris is grinning but he's also nigh-imperceptibly relaxed, like Sean took off some burden that Chris had been carrying for so long he no longer remembered he had it.

"Thank you!"

And now Chris can be hard, isn't that convenient. He does not touch his new dick, because last time a hookup wanted to tie him up and hit him they didn't want him to touch himself without permission either.

Awwwww. "You're cute," he says, hugging him and nuzzling his face and groping his lovely new dick. It feels very nice to touch. Good job, Sean's subconscious expectations.

Wow, having your genitals groped is much nicer when you don't want to die when reminded about them.

"...can we go fuck in a bed, rich guy?"

"Sure."

He picks Chris up out of his lap and shifts him over to the passenger seat. And, as an afterthought, teleports his clothes back onto him.

"Put your seatbelt on, I'll find us a hotel."

"What is the point of being omnipotent if you have to wear a seatbelt?" Chris says, putting on his seatbelt.

"I'm not omnipotent enough to mind-control cops, so."

He drives.

Chris feels you should not change your behavior based on cops. It only encourages them. 

"--I'm eighteen. I just look young because I was born a girl."

"Makes sense, I guess. Yeah, I was hoping you were older than you look."

"But not enough to ask? --I guess if you own me it's different, trying to keep the cops from returning me home is a pain."

"I didn't care that much, I could kinda tell you were, like, at least not less than fifteen. Do you wanna look more your age, I bet I can do that too."

"I don't care. If you like jailbait I'm happy to be jailbait."

"I'm not super a fan of jailbait. Mm..." He glances over at Chris's face, makes a thoughtful noise, then turns his attention back to the road. "Yeah, that'll do. You look, like, a little younger than me still but not three years."

"Rachel's not going to recognize me at all."

"Who's that?"

"My girlfriend. Used to be a foster care kid and then she decided if old guys were going to touch her anyway she might as well get paid for it. When she turns 18 she wants to start working indoors and then save up to become a prodomme."

"Huh. She gonna have opinions about," he makes a gesture encompassing him and Chris, "this?"

...This is the first time this thought has occurred to him.

"It's cool if we fuck other people, like, she doesn't give a shit because we're each other's people. But I guess swearing yourself into eternal servitude to someone is different." He kicks the seat. "Maybe she'll want to be yours too."

"That'd be convenient! I don't super want people going around knowing I can do magic when I don't own them, and I don't super want you lying to your girlfriend about why you swore yourself into eternal servitude to some rando."

"I can't lie to Rachel, anyway, she knows me too well."

"I could screw around with your memories but I'd have to figure out what to change them to."

"Sugar daddy, probably, but she'd have to figure out why I was serving you or-- or else I'd believe you're just a client."

Having his memories screwed around with: hot. Forgetting why he is serving Sean: not hot. Thinking Sean is just a client: THE WORST THING.

Sean reaches over and pets him, still keeping most of his attention on the road. "I'm definitely not letting you forget you're mine. But is there any way you end up wanting to be mine without me having magic powers at you?"

He thinks. "...Probably in a week, probably not in ten minutes." He hesitates. "I want to be able to figure out how to serve you in ways other than sucking your dick and if I don't know that you have magic I'm going to be worse at it because I don't know something that's really important. Sir."

"Well, you know your girlfriend better than I do. What happens if you tell her you swore yourself to eternal servitude and you're not allowed to say why? Does she guess I've got magic powers or no?"

"...Mostly she's scared for me."

"Not ideal. Suggestions?"

"...Not sure. I've decided to be okay with you murdering me, and that is a thing anyone would be worried about, I think."

"Okay, yeah, pretty fair to be worried about that one. I'm not gonna murder you, if that helps."

"...It's a little disappointing that you clarified."

He laughs. "Too bad."

"I guess I can always think about you doing it by accident. --Except then you'd be sad. Ugh."

"I would be sad! You're my very first magic slave and I like you a lot and I wanna keep you forever!"

"I'm going to be your best magic slave."

"Yeah, I bet you will."

"How do I become the best slave?"

"Dunno, I've never had a slave before. We'll figure it out." Pet pet.

That is NOT a good answer. Chris wants to be the best slave NOW.

He concludes the best slave would probably not express this opinion, tries to figure out how to ask Sean about himself, realizes that he has no idea how to have small talk with rich people, wonders whether the best slave would in fact not ask personal questions, and then for want of any other plan collapses into a pile of glowering extremely horny teenage boy. 

Sean lets him glower for about two seconds and then says, "What's on your mind?"

"...don't know how to ask questions to rich people and am worried it's impertinent to want to know anything about you anyway."

"Nah go for it. You seem like—the kind of person where it's just obviously better for me the more you know about me."

"But I don't know what kind of questions I'm supposed to ask."

"Well, me neither. What do you wanna know? —oh, probably relevant, I'm going away to college in the fall and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna want to bring you. So there's that."

"...am I going to have to figure out how to get into college?"

(He starts mentally drafting his hardship story.) 

"Nah, I'll have an apartment and I can just keep you in it. You can if you want though, if it seems like it'd be useful."

"...I don't like school much, that's why I ran away."

(His tone of voice is very clear that if Sean wants him to he will go to school anyway but that he feels this is something Sean would consider useful information.)

"Yeah, all right. Only if it's really useful for something, then, and I can't think of any reason why I'd really really need you to go to college."

"They keep trying to make me learn boring things I don't care about and you have to follow rules and not do what you want."

(The irony is entirely lost on him.)

Sean giggles.

"...what."

"The 'you have to not do what you want, it's terrible' coming from a guy who just decided to be my slave because I'm magic was kind of funny."

"I want to be your slave! I don't want to go to school!"

"I mean, yeah, it makes sense, it's just funny."

"If school tortured me maybe I would be more willing to go to it."

He giggles again.

"So you're rich, you're going to college, you have magic powers, you like torturing teenage boys, you... go to school? With cheerleaders? And football? I learned everything I know about high school from movies and I am not sure what stuff they just made up."

"High school totally did have cheerleaders and football! I didn't super pay attention to either. Or to much of the rest of school. I lit a teacher on fire once, that was pretty memorable."

"What??? Awesome. Was it hot?"

"Eh, the teacher wasn't particularly cute. He just, like, got in a fight with me and called me a liar and had a lighter on his desk cause he likes doing Zippo tricks in class, and I lost my temper and, well, the lighter was right there."

Thanks to Chris's new equipment Sean can see exactly what Chris thinks of this. 

"You don't like being called a liar?"

"Most of the time I don't light people on fire over it, but I've got a thing about—I hate lying, and I hate telling the truth and not being believed. And most of the time it's just—it's fair for people not to trust me if they don't have any reason to think I'm especially honest, it doesn't piss me off that much when it's fair, but this guy really should've known better, we got along pretty well up until that point and he knew me."

"What did he think you were lying about?"

"Whether I'd done my homework. I usually didn't, but that specific time I did it and then lost it and he refused to believe me. Despite, like, the last couple dozen times I'd not done my homework and just told him 'yeah I didn't do it'."

"...man, fuck that."

(Chris wants Sean to get angry at him and light him on fire, except for the part where it means he would have made Sean angry, which is the worst thing in the world.) 

"Yeah, it wasn't great. I still probably shouldn't have set him on fire. But it wasn't great."

"...I don't really think it's my job to have opinions on what you should or shouldn't do."

(Except you should definitely light him on fire.)

"I mean, if you think something I'm doing is a dumbass idea, I'd rather know that than not. And I feel like lighting a teacher on fire in front of the whole class is, like, pretty clearly a dumbass idea."

"I think that depends on what you want. If you want people to think you're a crazy asshole and not fuck with you, it seems like a great idea. If you want me to be squirming in my seat because of how hot it is that you might get angry at me and light me on fire, it seems like a great idea. If you really hated that guy for some reason and valued lighting him on fire for his own sake, it seems like a great idea. --I guess if I had a better idea of what you wanted I'd know whether lighting your teacher on fire was a good way of getting it."

"Nah it was pretty much just 'violent impulsive teenager does something violent and impulsive without thinking through the consequences'. Also, it's hot that you think that's hot."

"Well, then, I think it's a good idea if you like being violent and impulsive, and a bad idea if you don't."

He shrugs. "Being violent and impulsive is, like, fun, but I'd kind of rather be better at not doing obviously dumbass things. Eventually my parents will probably get tired of covering it up every time I rape somebody. Although the magic powers make it way easier to just not get caught doing that in the first place. But like, having magic powers that make it easy to get away with things doesn't help that much if I also just sometimes lose my temper and light somebody on fire in front of thirty people."

"...were you planning on raping me?"

"I mean, I was planning on hurting you and making you suck my dick, and I did that, and you loved it, so like, yeah I guess but also it seems weird to put it that way. 'I was planning on raping you' makes it sound like there's something I wanted and didn't get."

"...could have fucked my cunt."

"Didn't feel like it. Is this like, 'by the way, in case you ever feel like fucking me in a way I'll definitely hate', kind of thing?"

He half-starts two or three sentences and then says "...you can do whatever you want to me."

"I can!" he agrees cheerfully. "But it's fun when you like things. Going out of my way to make you miserable sounds like way less fun."

"...having something inside my cunt makes me want to die."

"I'll keep that in mind. But it doesn't sound like the kind of thing I'm into. Or, like, not exactly."

He's kind of shrinking back against the seat.

If Sean had invented mindreading by now then he'd learn that Chris's internal narrative is a string of pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

Sean glances over at him. "You look like you're trying real hard not to have an opinion."

Very quietly: "...yes."

"Is the opinion 'please don't do that'?"

Even more quietly: "yes."

What do you know, he's finally found a hotel. He's quiet for a moment as he parks the car.

Then he takes off his seatbelt and turns in his seat to face Chris.

"Okay," he says. "First of all, I'm not gonna do it. Second of all I want you to understand why I'm not gonna do it."

He has to take a moment to collect his thoughts. Putting this into words is hard.

Chris looks a fraction less terrified than previously.

"...so like," he starts, speaking slowly as he thinks through the words, "you're maybe not the best first magic slave I could possibly have gotten, but you're probably better than the best magic slave I could've come up with if somebody'd asked me what the best possible magic slave would be like."

Firmer ground now. "You want to be my magic slave, enough that you're offended that the magic tried to make you want it more, and you want me to get what I want, and you have, like, a reasonable amount of common sense about how to make that happen, and you want to get better at it, and you're cute and hot and you want me to set you on fire, and wasting all that on making you miserable just because I can would be a profoundly stupid thing to do. The smart thing to do with you is—give you everything I can to make you better at doing what you want to do with your life, because the thing you want to do with your life is serve me. It's good for me if you're happy and safe and it's bad for me if you're fucked up and terrified. And, like, I know I'm not the best at thinking through the consequences of my actions, but sometimes I can see a dumbass decision when it's staring me right in the face."

Chris thinks through this.

"...yes, sir."

"Also," he says, "this trying not to have opinions thing seems to be doing way more getting in my way than helping me. Like, imagine if you'd actually succeeded in making it sound like you didn't care whether I did it or not and you'd be fine either way. I still probably wouldn't have done it, cause it still doesn't sound like the kind of thing I'm into, but you would've been going around terrified of it for no good reason."

"Yes, sir."

Orders! Orders are good! Now he knows one thing that he is supposed to be doing. He considers this and then says, "I like when you tell me what to do because then I know what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Good to know." He reaches over and puts a hand on the back of Chris's neck, squeezing gently. There's no burns there anymore, but the gesture is still reminiscent. "Right now I wanna get a room at this hotel and fuck you in it. After that I'll think about what you should be doing with your life for the next couple months."

"Awesome. I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed."

He laughs a little, squeezes Chris's neck again, and gets out of the car.

It's a nice hotel. The room he gets has a king-size bed and everything is very pretty and fancy and Sean ignores it all in favour of scooping Chris up and carrying him to bed and taking his clothes off.

Ooh cool fancy things aaaaand he's scooped. 

No more fancy things only Sean. 

That is correct.

Sean would like to pin his shiny new slave to this bed and bite him a lot. And then suck his dick. That is what Sean wants to do.

What an excellent excellent plan. 

Chris has never had a blowjob before and he is making a bunch of noises about this fact.

Chris is GREAT and his newness to the experience of dicks is GREAT and his dick is GREAT and Sean is SO HAPPY.

What a coincidence! Chris is also SO HAPPY.

He is pretty sure he has the best owner in the world.

Well Sean has the best slave in the world so that works out nicely.

And now he would like to make the best slave in the world come in his mouth.

This is an extremely good plan although sadly Chris is too incoherent to suggest that there should be some torture involved in the process.

Alas, Sean has not yet invented mindreading, so the only torture here is some idle squeezing of bite marks.

He swallows and flops onto the bed and scoops Chris into his arms like he is a teddy bear and nuzzles his shoulder and sighs happily. "Hi you're great."

"You're great! Can I have some food? I haven't eaten since noon."

"Sure, order room service, I'll pay for whatever."

He slightly uncuddles to grab the room service menu, looks at the prices, and says "..........are you sure."

"Yep!"

".........these cost a lot of money."

Also he doesn't know what like a tenth of those words mean.

"I told you, I'm not cheap, I'm impatient. I want you to have food and I don't want either of us to have to get out of bed for more than a minute to make it happen, so, room service."

Chris is uncertain of how to make this decision.

He eventually decides on salmon and asparagus and cheesecake, on the grounds that he recognizes all the words in their descriptions, and Ron would like it if he ever ate a vegetable.

Sean happily cuddles him until the food arrives, then sends him to retrieve it.

He takes a bite of the salmon and his mouth becomes an O of surprise,

"...This is really good."

Sean beams at him.

Chris closes his eyes and eats his food with blissful attention.

There may be little noises about it.

Sean has the BEST slave. Best best best.

Chris looks mournfully at his plate when there is no more cheesecake.

"It's so good."

"You're so cute when you're eating good food. I wanna feed you lots more good food and watch you like it."

"Sounds like a plan. You'll have to tell me what all those words on the menu mean."

"I don't know half of them myself," he says, but he scoots closer to make himself available for translation purposes.

Words Chris doesn't know: papardelle! Parmesan reggiano! 'Heirloom' in the context of tomatoes! Galangal! Cote de boeuf!

Sean doesn't know all of those either but he has an approximate idea of what an heirloom tomato is and he can recognize boeuf and has the vague impression that the reggiano just means the parmesan is Especially Fancy.

"Why do they have those words on the menu if even rich people don't know what they mean?"

"I'm kind of a shitty rich person."

"Makes sense!"

Chris flops back onto the bed. Beds, he concludes, are MUCH softer than sleeping bags. He approves of this. 

And Sean flops onto Chris. Mmmmm it's so good having someone who's his. He can do whatever he wants with his Chris and right now what he wants is CUDDLES.

Cuddles are an excellent plan. Chris is very enthusiastic.

That is GOOD and Chris is GOOD and everything is just VERY GOOD.

This bed is extremely soft and Sean is very warm and Chris is going to fall asleep.

Huh. Yep, that just happened.

Well, it's not like Sean's got anywhere to be. He snuggles up and falls asleep himself. (Chris makes an excellent teddy bear. Something about holding him just feels really... right. Like, yes, this is his person.)

He wakes up in the morning and-- yep! He is owned! That is his master right there! He has a dick!

Chris ponders what he should be doing while he waits for Sean to wake up, orders room service for breakfast, and then starts to give him a blowjob.

Well that's a pretty fantastic way to wake up. He makes a sleepy happy noise and pets Chris's hair.

Chris has probably not actually put ten thousand hours into practicing dick sucking, because he's only been doing it for five years, but he has definitely put in far more hours of dedicated practice than most people.

It's a good blowjob.

Best slave.

He is!

When he's done he looks up at Sean expectantly to see if Sean has anything for him to do.

Sean smiles sleepily at him. "G'morning," he says, and yawns. "You're great. Hmmmmm, I was gonna think about what you should be doing with yourself, wasn't I..."

"Yes, sir."

"Mmhmmm." He ruffles Chris's hair and yawns again. "Okay, so. Wanna figure out how to make sure you're always around when I want you, not sure how to manage that yet, might just have to wait on it until I don't have to deal with my parents... definitely want you to make sure you don't die, and try not to get arrested either, I'll be pissed if you die and it'd be kinda inconvenient to get you out of jail. Hmmmm. See, I'm sure there's lots of stuff it would be really smart of me to be telling you to do right now, but I can't think of any of it."

"...I think you should give me an allowance so I don't have to do sex work anymore. And then I should go to the library and teach myself skills that would be useful if I were your slave. Automotive care. Given your kinks, probably first aid, if not outright becoming an EMT. Cooking? Probably I should see about getting myself a GED. And I should figure out how to earn money legally so that I can buy you a house that's really yours."

"Yeah that sounds like a good plan all around." He smiles. "Best slave."

"You might want to give me a budget for taking classes at community college? I don't know, I think some of those things might be easier to learn from classes than from books."

"Mm, yeah," he says, nodding. "Look it up and tell me how much it'd cost to take whatever classes you're interested in, I don't know offhand whether community college is expensive enough that I'd have to do math about it."

"...Aw, man, Rachel and I were going to go to Six Flags today."

"Mm?"

"I mean, I'm going to have to flake on her, or else explain all this to her, and I am not really happy about either of those. Also I don't really want to spend my first day as your slave riding roller coasters."

"Well, fair enough." He pets him. "Between flake on her and explain, which would you rather?"

"...probably flake?"

"Sure, sounds good."

Well, then, Chris is going to see if Sean wants to make more use of this extremely soft bed (!!!!) and then he is going to head off to the library to do research.

He discovers his best option for gainful employment is probably a programming bootcamp and immediately sets himself to learning Python.

As it happens, he does want to make some more use of this extremely soft bed! Having a magic slave is so good.

His parting order to Chris is to text Sean if he needs anything; then he gets back in his car and drives aimlessly around town, because driving aimlessly around town in this car is great. He's not really hunting, but he's keeping half an eye out for people who look especially interesting, just in case.

Well, there's this extremely blonde girl over here in an alleyway taking it up the ass from one guy while she sucks off another.

...uh.

Yep.

That's sure happening.

Leah is 💖 so happy💗! She feels a guy pulsing in her ass and a little later her mouth was filled with come! There is nothing Leah loves more than getting filled with come! 💗💗💗

She smiles at both of the 💖lovely❤️ ❤️ guys who were so ❤️ good 💕 and came inside her! She says "thank you" because she's a good girl and good girls say thank you when they get treats! Then she bites her lip and thinks. Thinking is really hard but she has to do it sometimes. She's not hungry or thirsty and she doesn't have to go to the bathroom. She has her clothes on (there's nothing she 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖 loves💖 more than being naked, but wearing her little miniskirt and crop top that says SLUT is almost as good, and she know she's supposed to wear clothes unless a man told her not to). It is not late enough that she has to find a bed.

That means it's time to find sex! 💖 Leah bounces up and down. (She likes bouncing when she's happy! 💗 Then men know she's happy! And it makes her breasts jiggle and when her breasts jiggle men get 💕hard and then they want to fuck her! 💖) She's so happy! She loves sex! Sex is her favorite thing! 💕 Now she gets to have more sex! 

help me

There's a man looking at her! 💕 Maybe if she bounces her breasts at him he'll want to fuck her! ❤️ That makes Leah so happy! 💖💖

She goes over to his car and smiles and says "Do you want to have sex?"

...

That's... that's not normal, right? That's not the sort of thing that happens? Girls do not dress like that and get fucked in public and then gleefully go proposition another guy. That's not a thing. That's not... there's just... the whole way that she moves is...

To be perfectly honest he does not, actually, super want to fuck her. But he definitely wants her in his car. If she gets in his car maybe he can figure out what the fuck is even happening.

So.

"Sure," he says, "c'mon in and you can suck my dick if you want."

He leans over to open the passenger-side door.

💕💕💕 He's so good! She loves him so much! She's going to love 💗 his dick💗 even more! She's so 💖happy💖!

She gets in his car right away. 💖💖💖

And then the doors are locked and she's sitting immobile in the passenger seat, unable to move anything but her head, and Sean is staring at her with intense focus.

He wants...

He wants to know what it's like in there. What she's thinking, what's going on with her.

His eyes glow gold, a burning red-tinged gold like a fire or a sunset.

He sees--

His telepathy interface does not actually have heart emojis, but he still gets the vague sense that Leah's thoughts are sixty percent heart emoji by volume. She's happy. She's so very very happy. Even when something she doesn't like is happening-- when she hasn't had sex in an hour, or when she has to sleep outside and it's raining, or she has to think about something-- she's full of joy. Why wouldn't she be full of joy? Her life has cocks in it. Sometimes her pussy has cocks in it, or her ass, or her mouth. Sometimes she can play with her own titties, and sometimes she can play with other people's titties, and sometimes she can eat girls out, and sometimes she comes. Sometimes someone buys her a drink and then she fucks them! What more could she possibly want?

Leah's desperately horny. She doesn't think of it as any different from the norm, but Sean can recognize that she's really unreasonably horny, you've-been-edged-fifteen-times-and-now-even-a-brush-of-a-finger-against-your-clit-will-make-you-come horny. It pervades all her thoughts, drawing everything back to sex. She can handle her basic needs for food and clothing and shelter-- admittedly mostly by fucking men until they give those things to her, and a really unreasonable percentage of her calories come from alcohol-- but the overwhelming purpose of her life is to fuck. 

She's also... incurious. Leah's aware that she can't move any of her muscles, but she doesn't see anything remarkable about this state of affairs. It's sexy that she can't move, just like it's sexy when men tie her up or hurt her or tell her what to do or call her a dirty disgusting slut, and it makes her wet and makes her clit throb. She thinks about how much she likes this man and how fun it will be when he starts to use her and how fun it would be if he just kept her still for hours and hours and either way she's just so happy.

And there's-- something-- glimmering under all of it--

—that, that thing, what's that—

help me help me help me

—he wants to help her. He still has only the barest clue what's even happening to her, but he wants to help her. He wants—

The... thoughts, if you can call them that... in the outer layer of her mind feel... fake. Not exactly like they're not happening, but like they're not... a way that a real person could be. Somebody did magic to achieve this result, he's pretty sure. Someone out there has magic besides him, and the thing they are choosing to do with their magic is... this.

It's like the uninvited magical slave feelings from when he took Chris only worse.

Okay. He should be smart about this. He should not just start wishing drastic changes on her mind without thinking it through.

He tries... suppressing the rest of it, so that the tiny glimmer of help me gets to have her mind all to itself. (The light in his eyes flares again.)

The help me unfolds.

It-- is clearly not an entire personality. It is the little nub of a personality, the bit that not even whoever did this could erase. 

It unfolds into: the thing that matters most is to know and to understand, there is a vast empty galaxy of ignorance and all you can do is collect a few pebbles of knowledge but you have to hold onto those pebbles as much as you can because they're the most important thing, being wrong is the most terrifying thing imaginable and some people respond to this by getting angry or defensive or deceiving themselves but that just makes you more wrong, you have to check everything you believe against reality again and again, you have to doubt yourself all the time, you have to be ready to throw away any of your pebbles because if you don't you will have nothing at all to hold you against the galaxy-- 

It unfolds into: the most wonderful thing is people, people are complicated and fascinating and scary, every single person is an entire universe, humans are so complex you'll never be able to predict them exactly, and-- it's strange that the thing any person would save in the fundamental core of their personality is the word "sonder" and what it means. but here it is: 

the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

...she's... so... good???????

He wants to say something but instead of saying something he seems to be just. Staring at her. Because. She's so good. How is she so good. How is she so—for that to be the last little piece left of a person after someone has filled up the rest of them with sex and heart emojis, who do they have to be, what kind of a person—he wants to know her, the her that she was before—he wants to own her—he wants—

But when he wishes for the rest of her personality back, nothing happens. She's still just—this.

That's... okay. Well. No, actually, it's not okay at all. But it's—she's still good. She's still—

(He's still staring at her in wonderment.)

Leah's so so grateful.

She keeps poking around for her memories and then not finding them and she wants to cry but-- she's so grateful, not to be that anymore--

Oh—

—and he can't—

"Hi I'm magic and I can read your mind and I fixed you for now but I'm only magic with things I own so it stops working if you leave my car unless we convince the magic I own you."

"Thank you. Can you let me move?"

Her face looks really weird with a less vapid expression. 

"Yeah, sure—" Now she isn't held in place anymore.

"I really wish I had... any of my memories."

"I really wish that too. I tried—wishing them back—didn't work."

"What does being owned by you entail?"

She's curious, mostly. She wants to understand Sean, and magic, and herself.

"Well. The last guy sorta... spontaneously decided he really wanted to be my slave, so now we're doing that. And it means I can do magic to him anytime even if he's not in my territory. Right now all the territory I've got is this car and it kinda sucks. Uh, also the magic gave him a neat-looking tattoo and did mind control to him to make him want to be my slave more but I got rid of the mind control part as soon as I noticed it because, like, no. And the magic didn't decide he was mine until he told me he belongs to me for as long as I want him and then sucked my dick, and I don't know exactly which parts of that were the important magic parts."

"...Well, it looks like my options are belonging to you, staying in your car as long as you'll have me, or having my brain erased. None of those are exactly great options but I think I'm probably going to take the one that lets me form memories."

"You can stay in my car for a while if you want but that's not a super permanent solution, yeah. I'm—sorry. I'd offer you better options if I had any."

"So... if I am owned by you you can make arbitrary changes to my mind, which is terrifying. But apparently people can already make arbitrary changes to my mind. --Is this a known thing that happens? My previous self did not exactly keep up on current events."

"Nah, I didn't even know magic was real until like three days ago. Now I know there's me, the mysterious stranger who gave me my powers, and whoever fucked you up like that. And—I guess you've got no reason to believe me about this, but—if I make you mine for this, I'm not gonna just start messing around with your mind. I don't like messing around with people's minds anyway and I really don't wanna do it to somebody I'm... responsible for, like that. Like, you're not—this isn't you deciding to be my magic slave, this is—the closest I can get to just fixing you. I dunno if that made any sense."

"You could let me read your mind, then I'd have evidence. --Unless you locked away some of your memories and intentions? Is that possible? For some reason I'm thinking the word 'Occlumency,' do you have any idea what that is." 

—he smiles a little. "Yeah, it's uh, a magic thing from a book? Wow you don't know what Harry Potter is that's a trip—they're like, really popular books about this wizard kid going to wizard school, and in the books there's magic for reading minds and Occlumency is the magic for hiding things from people who can read your mind. Anyway I've only had this power for like three days, I have not really had time to get fancy with it. I guess you've got no good reason to believe me about that either. But I'll let you read my mind if you want."

Leah smiles; it's big and friendly and it makes her eyes crinkle up, and it looks incredibly weird on her. 

"It's probably safer to read your mind than not to. It won't protect me if you're malicious but it might help if you're merely very stupid. --Although it's hard to imagine a level of stupid that would be worse than being a bimbo."

He laughs a little, and then—

The most immediately obvious thing about Sean's mind is how embodied it is. His experience of the world is very heavily sensory and almost completely nonverbal. He looks at Leah and sees—he's still reading her mind too, but even if he weren't, he has an intuitive grasp of body language that feels like just directly perceiving the way someone feels in their posture and expression, and that perception is part of his sensory experience on almost the same level as colour or texture.

On top of that, then, he's also thinking about other things. Like what he saw when he first let her out into her own head. He's still a little in shock over it. There isn't much of her but all of her that there is is so... he's not thinking the thought in words, and probably couldn't come up with a word for it if he tried. But when he thinks about her, about who she is and what she's like and what it's like in her head, there's an edge of giddy disbelief to him, like he can't figure out how to reconcile his previous understanding of the world with the knowledge that it contains someone this amazing. The concept that the most wonderful thing in the world is people, the definition of sonder, those things resonate with him on a deep level—and even the rest of her, the drive to understand the world that he himself does not feel, he still sees as precious and good and important.

There are other fragments of thought floating around in there too. Memories of bits and pieces of this conversation from his perspective. The sensation of what it feels like to speak out loud in words when they're not remotely your native format. The firm conviction that of course he's not going to fuck with her if he takes ownership of her for this purpose, that it would be—something like unthinkable, to do that and then treat her as someone he happens to have power over instead of as someone he is knowingly and willingly responsible for. This sense of responsibility is novel and largely unexamined but very, very, very deeply felt.

All together, it's kind of a lot.

She giggles and starts bouncing. 

"This is the best magic ever."

Watching her giggle and bounce is overwhelmingly delightful. She's so good!!! Her happiness is so—visible and vibrant and—he wants her to be that happy all the time, he wants to own her and keep her safe and give her all the nice things in the world so he can watch her be happy about them—

"Hm. Can I see what you've been doing with your magic for the past three days?"

"Sure—"

He thinks back to when he got the power, the explanation he half-remembers. The guy in the hat was really not very forthcoming with information; he only even vaguely touched on the concept of owning people, for one thing, and left Sean to discover by experimentation that for example he can affect himself because his body is his. (He hasn't measured his new height but the one he feels comfortable at now is at least a few inches taller than his previous 5'11". He keeps reverting it whenever he has to interact with his parents at close range and one of these days he's gonna forget and they're gonna think they've gone insane.)

After that, most of what he's done has been drive around in his car picking attractive people up off the street and raping them, then erasing their memories of all the awful stuff and letting them go after what to them was a perfectly reasonable and friendly interaction. (His memories of this are... vividly experiential, the same way his thoughts are.) He got Chris that way, which is possibly the best thing that has ever happened to him, because Chris is fantastic. (Vividly experiential memories of Chris sucking his dick, and also of Chris discovering really good food for the first time.) Okay probably getting magic is the best thing that ever happened to him, but Chris is second. Leah might be third. Leah is very very good.

(It occurs to him, thinking back on this habit of his, that it feels... not quite right, to take away people's memories like that. It's certainly a better idea from a selfish perspective than letting them remember it, but it feels... dishonest. Like he's lying to them, a little. And lying feels bad. Not in a moral sense; in fact, almost in a sensory one. Like a screeching swipe of fingernails down the chalkboard of his brain. It's uncomfortable to deceive, uncomfortable to interact under false pretenses. Whatever took nearly all of Leah's self away from her was very much like a lie, in a sense, and concealing just a few of someone's memories from them is much less of that thing but it's still some of it.)

"...........how do I become your slave."

He shows her the memory of how Chris did it.

"Dunno exactly which parts of that were the ones that mattered, but," he waves a hand and finishes the thought nonverbally: he's pretty sure he remembers the guy in the hat saying something about people thinking of themselves as belonging to him, which implies that it's important that Chris meant what he was saying; and given the timing of when that magic tattoo showed up, it seems safe to conclude that the blowjob was also a critical component for some reason. He is really kind of confused about what the blowjob has to do with it. Like, yeah, it's vaguely thematic and all, but actually why though.

...Meaning it is hard. 

She closes her eyes and dredges up from somewhere in her memory the concept of speech-act performativity. 

"With this sentence," she says, "I become your slave."

...huh. He has no idea if that's going to work but he is immensely charmed by the thought process that went into trying it. It went by fast enough that he isn't totally clear on the details, but what he caught was—good the way that the rest of Leah is good.

"Do you think it has to be a blowjob specifically," Leah says, "I'm kind of horny and I'd like to get fucked. --Although if you fuck me you should probably cure any STIs I have first, I didn't use condoms."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I can do that—" he tries it, and his eyes flash gold, so: yes, "—and hey, if it doesn't work we'll have learned something, right, and then we can try again?" He was not especially into the idea of fucking Leah in the state he first found her in, but now that she's this version of herself he's kind of delighted by the idea, especially if she's into it. Actually it would be kind of terrible if she wasn't into it. Wow that's a feeling he can't remember having before.

"I wonder what being ridiculously sexually responsive feels like when I have a brain."

He bounces a little. "Let's find out!"

If he were more together as a person perhaps it would occur to him to try to arrange a more comfortable place for them to have sex than the driver's seat of a Lamborghini, which although excellent for all its intended uses is not really intended to comfortably fit two people; but he's horny and impulsive and he likes her and he wants her and he's mostly just thinking about how much fun it would be to get her off, so in fact he just reaches over to pull her into his lap.

Leah kisses him!

About ten seconds later Leah is making quiet whimpery noises.

Oh wow that's good. Wow that is just really really good.

You know what's an excellent use for mindreading magic? Finding out exactly what someone feels when you touch them in this or that way, and then building on that knowledge to learn how to make them feel all kinds of wonderful things. That is a really, really, really good use for mindreading magic. Sean is so proud of discovering this.

Whoever made Leah look and act like this seemed to have doubled, if not tripled, the sexual sensitivity of all of her nerves. 

Also, Leah doesn't have particularly many memories but she does remember that she can have orgasms from getting her tits fucked and this memory is giving her some thoughts about Sean lifting up her shirt.  

His eyes flash gold and now all of their clothes are piled in a heap in the passenger seat and he is free to touch her breasts unobstructed. He's never seen the point of titfucking but wow thinking about Leah having orgasms from it is casting the concept in a whole new light.

💖💖💖💖

She's not really 💖 having thoughts 💖 she's just sort of floating in this sparkly happy haze 💖💖💖 every time he touches her breasts it's like a little spark 💖 of electricity 💖

That's—actually maybe kind of concerning in context but wow does he ever want to fuck her—whatever it's probably fine and she is so very clearly having fun—yeah he is gonna keep right on doing this and see just how sparkly the inside of her head can get.

At some point his telepathy gives up representing it in words and starts representing it in fireworks. 

They're such lovely metaphorical fireworks.

And now he is going to fuck her, and keep those fireworks going the whole time—

—and when he comes, the magic tattoo appears, and his eyes flash gold because nope no magic slave feelings thank you, Leah's mind should be Leah's—and then he wraps his arms around her and hugs her close and can't seem to stop smiling.

"...that's fun but I really feel like it should be optional," Leah says. "And I want... about a tenth of the sex drive I currently have. The clitoris boobs can stay though."

"Yeah fair," Sean says agreeably. His eyes shine as he wills the adjustment to her sex drive into place. (He's less sure how to accomplish the other thing.) "Mm. Anything else you wanna change? You—look like you don't fit, kinda, I dunno—if I was designing a body to put your personality in it wouldn't be this one. Not sure what it would be."

"I want smaller tits," Leah says. "And-- I'd like to be pretty but you know. Normal pretty. Nerdy pretty, maybe."

"I'll see what I can do."

He snuggles her and thinks—he can't quite put together a mental image in concrete terms, but he didn't have a concrete mental image when he idealized his own body and still managed to hit exactly the height that feels the most right to him—and wills her to have a face and body that work for her. Smaller tits and ordinary nerdy prettiness.

"Thank you," Leah says, "this is much better."

She has bright red hair, slim shoulders and hips, small breasts, and a smile that looks humorous and intelligent rather than utterly vapid. 

That smile!! Gosh!! He bounces a little. "Wow your smile got so good!"

"I hope you'd think that, you designed it."

"Well, 'designed' is kind of a strong word for, like, vaguely wanting things with magic. And I wanted you to have something that works for you, not just for me, and—the things that work for you are pretty and good."

"Thank you. --I'm sort of bracing myself for the part where you wipe my entire personality."

"??"

"Well, the last guy did, and I don't exactly have a large sample of non-sex-related human experience to work from here."

"...fair," he says. "But—" he remembers, sort of at her, the depth and intensity with which he feels like everything about her personality is precious and important and great. And, as an afterthought, also the part where he feels responsible for her safety and well-being. And, as a third thought, also the part where he kind of hates the idea of wiping anyone's personality.

"..gosh, I like hearing about how you think I'm precious and important and great. I could use some more of that."

He thinks she is so precious and important and great!!!

She—gets it, about people, the thing about people, the thing where—there's a person in there, a perspective, an experience of the world, thoughts and feelings that no other person is ever going to have in quite the same way, that's what a person is, and that's so so important and beautiful and he never really quite thought about it in exactly that way until he saw it in her head but it's—perfect, the way she thinks about it, it's right—and that that was the last little bit of her left, that out of all the person she used to be, if you take away nearly all of her the little curled-up hidden part that manages to escape the purge is specifically this, specifically these things, this feeling about people and the urge to know and understand everything—and the way she thinks about knowing things doesn't resonate with him in the same way, but it's still good, it's still precious, it's still—a way of thinking about things that gives him all these feelings about wanting her to be happy and safe and have things that she wants.

Leah bouncing!!!!!!

(He might notice that "bouncing when happy" is also one of the things that managed to survive intact.) 

Her bouncing is EXTREMELY CUTE and now he is WIGGLING DELIGHTEDLY.

"You keep that up and I'm going to have self-esteem."

"Well, good!!!" He hugs her.

"So now that I'm yours, what are you going to do with me, master?" She's teasing him a little.

"Apparently I'm gonna hug you and tell you how great you are!" He hugs her some more. "I should... maybe figure out where I'm gonna keep you, though. Like, I guess you can just sleep in my car indefinitely but that might be weird? I dunno."

"I might end up needing a shower."

"Yeah. And I should get you, like, clothes. Better clothes. And money? I should give you money in case you need it for something. And—hmm actually maybe I should ask Chris for advice here—"

He texts Chris. hey i found a cute girl with no memories and she's mine now. help me figure out what to do with her

you're really going to need slave housing of some sort

i really am! unfortunately i don't think i can actually afford to get you guys a room at that one hotel for three months straight

I decided to teach myself Python so I could become a programmer, or alternately statistics so I could become an actuary, but it might be better if I get a job right away so we can have an apartment. What does 'no memories' mean?

means she just about doesn't remember anything from before she met me. she was kind of a mess when i saw her but then I helped. couldn't do anything about the missing memories though. also you're great

is it magic no-memories or amnesia no-memories because if it's the second thing probably you should take her to a doctor

it's super magic

..................well that's fucked up

way more fucked up than it sounds, actually, there was other shit going on, it's like somebody wiped out most of her brain and replaced it with a sex-obsessed slut who can barely think and is always happy? i'm kinda worried about the fact that there's somebody out there doing that to people. anyway i found the last little bit of her actual mind and put it back where it belongs and she is extremely cute and good and i have no idea what to do with her. the plan where you get a job and an apartment sounds like maybe a good one, i can cover some of rent if you find a place but i'm not sure how much or how i'm gonna explain it to my parents

people are going around doing what

...............ngl that's kind of hot but what

yep it's real fucked up!

...........I guess you did just take an underage whore as your eternal slave so they don't seem to be giving magic powers to people with, like, stellar ethics

but that's. worrying.

I want to figure out how to keep your slaves safe but I don't know anything about how

yeah. and like, pretty sure if anything happened to you guys i could fix it? but i'd like to be more than pretty sure!!!

it's not just your other slaves I'm worried about, it's my girlfriend Rachel

she's somebody who wouldn't be missed

yeah i don't want anything happening to her either

don't know what to do about it, though, i can't really do magic outside my car except to you guys, even if i found the person i don't know where i'd go from there

can you give us magic powers?

maybe? haven't tried. one sec

"Um, yes? Is anyone's answer to that not 'yes'?"

He laughs. "I mean, fair! Man, what magic powers do you want, though, I have no idea where to even start..."

"Telepathy? Isn't everyone's answer telepathy?"