The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tiffany sat in the bleachers, the roar of the crowd almost deafening as Josh’s team charged the court. It was the regional semi finals. No, wait, was it the national qualifier? Okay, so maybe Tiffany hadn’t really been paying attention to that part. All she knew was that Josh’s team was going all out in the closest match imaginable, and she was here for it.

“ the fucking ball you cuntmuncher!” Erin’s voice, at her loudest bellow, was able to carry over the not inconsiderable din of cheers and shouts that filled the bleachers, gaining her more than one startled look. She simply grinned manically and followed her comment up with a celebratory whoop a few moments later. Tiffany gave her a look that just made Erin grin more, before leaning down and planting a kiss on her lips.

Erin’s kiss tasted of her cherry lip gloss, and the scent of her sweet perfume, soft and radiant, gently invaded Tiffany’s nose. Pear and jasmine. As Erin turned her attention back to the game, Tiffany couldn’t help but steal an appreciative glance at her girlfriend. Erin’s light brown hair was now past shoulder length, but she liked to keep it tied in three asymmetrical and chaotic-looking pigtails that stuck out at all angles, accentuating the blonde highlights she’d had done.

Her new style was equally eye-catching: colorful, form-fitting, and revealing clothes—crop tops and skirts, occasionally a dress—had taken over her daily look, while the baggy hoodies and ripped jeans seemed to be on an extended vacation. Currently she was wearing a pink latex tubular top that clung to as well as flaunted her generous cleavage. A short silver skirt and black fishnet stockings completed her bold look. She seemed more appropriately dressed for the likes of a night club than a basketball game, and Tiffany couldn’t help but wonder if Erin and Alice were secretly planning to drag her out clubbing again once the game was done. They had developed a habit of springing spontaneous fun on her, ignoring her protests every time.

Erin’s transformation, as progressed as it was now, had started out as a joke, with Erin teasing Tiffany that since her hair was longer now, she was the feminine one and Tiffany was the now the butch lesbian in their relationship. Tiffany had decided to play into it, and had started wearing masculine attire, namely smart suits, leather jackets, blazers, and the like. Erin’s switch to more feminine clothing happened with much guidance and encouragement from Alice, while Tiffany had been enjoying the results immensely.

As for Tiffany’s hair that had set it all in motion, it was slowly recovering from the party haircut Hannah had made her give herself. Alice had followed through on her promise to help and had taken Tiffany to her favourite salon where they had done major damage control. Now Tiffany’s hair was a spiky pixie cut that got her endless compliments and plenty of attention. But no matter how many times it was praised, she couldn’t help but think about her long hair, her heart filled with hurt rather than joy.

Izzy, who was sitting on the other side of Erin, clapped her hands with unpractised enthusiasm. Her blue hair, fishnet stockings, and combat boots, as well as her general punk look, made her stick out like a rebellious thumb. But she had the expression of someone who didn’t give a fuck down to a fine art.

Mike was next to Izzy, equally caught up in the excitement and frequently looking at Izzy and enjoying her reactions. With his multiple face piercings and heavy dreadlocks, he also looked like he’d wandered into the wrong venue, but he was enjoying himself all the same.

Tiffany didn’t really know how Izzy or Mike were doing. Since Izzy and Erin had buried the hatchet, she’d seen her around a couple of times, but hadn’t ever exchanged more than a few lukewarm words. Mike she hadn’t seen at all, although she knew Erin had, since she was still going skating several times a week. Not in the kind of outfit she was wearing right now of course… They’d have eaten her alive.

Directly in front of them, Alice and Trev were leaning forward, eyes glued to the game, their hands intertwined and their legs brushing up against each other’s. Tiffany felt a warm fuzziness in her chest as she looked at them, although that feeling she realized may also be from the bourbon Erin had flavored their colas with. Maybe fifty fifty, who knew? She missed Trev and Alice, having barely seen them since that fateful night at Josh’s apartment, but she knew how it was with new couples.

Tiffany squinted at the scoreboard. 33-31 to the home team! What an exciting… regional vice qualifier match? Nope, that didn’t sound right either…

She turned to steal a glance at Marion and Libby, cheering from a few rows back. The two of them had gotten close after the night of the party, but not as close as…

Hannah and Rose were in the front row, Rose’s face lighting up with every basket. Tiffany still found it weird, how Lucy had decided to call herself by an abbreviation of her middle name in the absence of her memories. But weirder still was the radically different personality that had been emerging over the past few weeks.

The basketball game continued apace, Erin screeching at the referee something to do with trailing or traveling or somesuch. Tiffany found her mind traveling as well, reflecting on everything that had transpired over the past couple of months. The chaos, the fear, the near-disasters, and the small triumphs. It had been a whirlwind, leaving her feeling like she had aged years in a matter of days.

As she held Erin’s hand, Tiffany ed the early days after discovering the Algorithm. They had pissed each other off to no end, their power plays and mind games inspired by the Algorithm nearly ending so badly. Yet, from the moment when Tiffany had truly seen Erin and commanded her to kneel, they had found themselves drawn closer, their bond strengthening in the crucible of the conflict, desire, chaos, and fallout that had followed.

Erin had moved in with Marion, a sort of domino effect from Trev needing a roommate and Alice jumping at the opportunity, despite how new their relationship was. With Alice abruptly leaving her own apartment, Marion graciously invited Erin into her home, the grim reality of Erin’s slumlord apartment having become common knowledge to everyone in the aftermath of the fateful party.

Tiffany smiled slightly, thinking about how well Erin had adapted to her new living situation, embracing the much improved conditions and doing a good job of being a clean and considerate roommate. Marion, so often rigid and studious, had to her credit loosened up somewhat, rolling out the welcome mat for Erin and making an extra effort to make her feel at home. Tiffany spent almost half of her evenings there, allowing Hannah more space in their apartment.

Tiffany glanced at Hannah again, and felt a heavy weight in her chest. She was sharing a soda with Lucy- no… Rose. Hannah hadn’t been the same since her ordeal on the night of the party. She was determined to keep her memories of events, and Tiffany had respected her decision, albeit with some reservations. In the weeks following, Hannah had burst out of her shell in a rather dramatic fashion. She had dated more boys than Tiffany was really able to keep track of, which was part of the reason Tiffany had started going to Marion and Erin’s apartment more often. She was making new friends at college, trying new things, and had firmly and fully taken Rose under her wing.

Tiffany had watched from afar as Hannah had taken on a big sister type role who was equal parts protective and encouraging as Rose slowly pieced a life back together having had a massive gap in life skills and experience that Tiffany realised she had taken for granted. She still had technical skills and general knowledge, as in she could communicate fine, read, write, and recall non-personal knowledge.

But things like food preferences, daily routines, and memories to do with anyone she ever knew were simply gone. She knew how to dress herself but didn’t know how she liked to dress. She could competently walk into a store and recognise all the products, but she didn’t know what she’d enjoy. She didn’t recognise her own parents when shown photos of her with them. Hell, she hadn’t recognised herself in the mirror at first. Tiffany couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to have a stranger staring back at you every time you saw your reflection.

Before she had decided on Rose, Lucy had spent the better part of several weeks at Josh’s apartment in front of the Algorithm, as Josh and Trev—with the of Alice, Marion, and Hannah—had tried countless times to retrieve Lucy’s lost memories. None of it had worked. The memories seemed to have been overwritten by the fake memories Ross had planted there, which the group agreed needed to be removed to erase Ross’s hold over her. After weeks of near constant trying, nerves were frayed, and they reluctantly started to scale back their attempts, shifting the focus instead to helping Lucy adapt back into the life she had no memory of.

After getting past the initial disorientation of having no past, Rose, shortened from Rosemary, seemed to be an entirely new person, naive and curious, with gaping holes in her social skills and starkly different from the intense and serious Lucy. Hannah had taken the lead in helping her rediscover the nuances of her life, and ed her in choosing to refer to herself with a different name. Josh hacked into all of Lucy’s email and social media s to give her back access to them, and she had sent checking in messages to her parents based on the style of past messages. Everyone had agreed that Rose needed to maintain the facade of normalcy to her parents and to the college, in the hopes that when they finally did manage to recover her memories, she could resume her life without any disruption.

Even with Rose’s Algorithm sessions becoming less frequent, Josh’s apartment was still often a chaotic hub of activity, which Tiffany had avoided since they had voted her out. From what she had heard, aside from trying to help recover Lucy, their self made committee had made very little progress on how to proceed with using the Algorithm. Some were pushing for finding student volunteers to run clinical style trials on, while others had been pushing for setting up an addiction help centre with the Algorithm at its heart. It had even been proposed to share the discovery with of the college or the scientific community, but every idea had been vetoed or voted down.

Tiffany couldn’t pretend she wasn’t amused by this lack of progress, but she certainly wasn’t surprised. The Algorithm, after all, affected people. Not just the people put in front of it.

She quickly shook her head and scolded herself. She was supposed to wish the best for them, not be petty and enjoy their stagnation.

As her attention was drawn back to the game, she saw Josh make a superb to his teammate Bobby, who was able to capitalize on it. The crowd went wild as another basket was scored. Bobby and Josh…

They had managed to keep their relationship a secret, at least for now. The sporting world wasn’t ready to accept them together, and it pained Tiffany to think of the truth they had to keep hidden. It might not work forever, but it would do for now.

Another particularly loud cheer from the crowd as Josh made a spectacular play in the final moments of the match. She jumped to her feet, clapping and shouting along with everyone else. Erin pulled her into a hug, and Tiffany got another hit of that sweet perfume.

The game finished to rapturous applause, Josh’s team narrowly cinching victory and ensuring their place in the… in the… Tiffany didn’t know but she was still able to appear really enthusiastic about it, cheering and jumping with the rest of the home crowd, blending in with their joy.

As the players left the court, the group made their way down to congratulate Josh. He was surrounded by teammates and fans, his face flushed with exertion and triumph. Tiffany pushed her way through, Erin right behind her.

Tiffany could barely hear her own words of congratulations over the din of the throng of people, let alone Josh’s reply, but the communication was clear, and Tiffany felt a moment of elation in her heart. He was glad she had come, at least.

As they celebrated, someone in the crowd shouted loud enough for everyone to hear, “Party at Josh’s place!”

The cheer went up, and Tiffany found herself exchanging a look with Erin as an involuntary tremor worked its way through her body. She had avoided Josh’s apartment not just because of being shunned from the group, but because of the memories that had been haunting her dreams. There had been so many moments of terror and pain that had been etched across her mind, she had been happy to stay away and give her psyche time to recover. She probably needed a lot more time.

And maybe some therapy.

The pulsing crowd was too loud to hear anything else being said or shouted, but Tiffany saw the enthusiastic faces on everyone. Hannah was giving team captain Marty a huge hug while Rose smiled sheepishly behind her. Trev and Alice were pushing their way through to congratulate Josh. Izzy and Mike were casually watching everyone’s elation while Marion and Libby were taking a selfie together in front of the filled court.

It seemed to Tiffany that the only one apprehensive about a party at Josh’s place was her.

Perhaps it was time to go back…

The group made their way out of the arena, the energy high and the mood celebratory. As the players filtered into the changing rooms and the spectators emerged into the chilly night air, Tiffany could finally hear everyone again, though most people were still excitedly discussing the match.

“Fuck me it’s cold out here,” Erin chattered, despite her thick coat covering her less than weather appropriate outfit. “I told Gob to get here around now though, we shouldn’t have to wait long.“

“Yeah, feels like winter alright,” Tiffany remarked absent mindedly. “Not long ’til Christmas, huh?”

“Don’t remind me.” Erin seethed. “There’s only so many jingle songs I can take before I crack.”

“Hey…” Marion shuffled up to them in a thick jacket. “Are you both getting an Uber to Josh’s party?”

“I dunno…” Erin said, giving Tiffany an uncertain glance. “Tiff? You up for it?”

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Josh’s apartment. The place where it all unraveled. The place where she’d lost control. Nearly died… Her stomach twisted.

“I don’t know.” Tiffany looked down at her feet. “I don’t think everyone would be happy to see me there.” She could already picture the sidelong glances, the awkward silences, the quiet judgment. It felt like she didn’t belong there anymore.

“Fuck them.” Erin scoffed. “If they give you grief, they’ll have to go through me.”

“Yeah, Tiff,” Marion quietly added, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I’m not su—” Tiffany started, but stopped herself. She didn’t know what excuse to give. She wasn’t sure if she even had one. Just a heaviness in her chest, something thick and immovable. Even if the reception wasn’t chilly, she dreaded the thought of stepping back into that apartment. She just wanted to go home and eat ice cream in her pyjamas while in a duvet fort on her sofa, some mindless drivel pouring out of the TV. And Erin. Erin had to be there. And then they could sleep in until noon. She didn’t want to face anyone else.

But that would be chickening out, wouldn’t it? She wasn’t sure she could stomach her own cowardice. Besides, there was also the pull, the pull that had been there since the last time she left. The inescapable part of her that wanted to face it all. Face them. Face it.

Erin and Marion looked at her with a mixture of concern and expectation.

She’d given it long enough. It was time. Her reservations be damned. She could do this.

She allowed herself a deep breath, before forcing a smile. “Yeah, okay.” She nodded a few times, trying to make sure her heart wasn’t going to burst out of her chest. “I’m in. You want to share our ride, Marion?”

Marion smiled gratefully. ”That’s a budget friendly offer, Tiff. Thanks.”

“Oh thank fucking Godfrey, there’s Gob now!” Erin motioned to a car pulling up, muffled blasts of AC/DC radiating from inside.

Scurrying to get out of the cold, Tiffany quickly clambered in, followed by Erin then Marion.

“Twet!” Gob said enthusiastically as he watched them enter, turning down the music so it didn’t deafen them. He had the same scraggly beard and small round sunglasses as he always wore. Tiffany wasn’t even sure his clothes had changed. “And new person, who’s dis?” Gob asked, presumably eyeing Marion up behind his tinted eyewear.

“What did you just call me?” Tiffany asked with an askew eyebrow.

“It’s our initials, Tiff.” Erin sighed, though clearly part of her was amused. “As a couple, we are ’Twet’. Which makes this,” Erin motioned to Marion, “MB.”

“Nice to meet you.” Marion offered a half hearted wave.

“Likewise!” Gob replied with a sharp two finger salute. “So… where to, my lovely ladies?”

Erin gave him Josh’s address, and Gob pulled out of the parking lot with a few too many wheel spins, causing Tiffany and Marion to tense while Erin laughed.

Half paying attention to the road, Gob twisted around to eye up the ladies. “Well fuck, ET, you’ve cleaned up nice, aye?”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Not enough that I won’t fucking clock you, Gob! Less ogling, more driving!”

“Right on.” Gob grinned, turning around just in time to swerve away from hitting a scooter. “So how is my second favourite lesbian couple, eh?”

“We’re great,” Erin replied slyly.

“Second favourite?” Tiffany asked.

“Well yeah.” Gob turned back again just long enough to flash a cheeky grin. “If you want the top spot you have to spend a lot more time making out.”

To this, Tiffany didn’t respond. She simply offered Erin a scrupulous look, to which Erin grinned sheepishly.

After a moment of awkward silence in the back of the car, Marion cleared her throat gently. “So, um, Tiff? Is this the first time you’ll be going to Josh’s since, um—“

“Since you put it to a vote for me to be banned from using the Algorithm?” Tiffany said, her voice cheery but her expression devoid of all humor.

“Uh…” Marion faltered. “I mean, I was gonna say the night all the crazy stuff happened.”

There was another tense moment of silence in the back seat, although it was punctuated by Gob cussing out a fast braking hybrid ahead with far too much enthusiasm.

“Uh, guys?” Erin piped up from between Tiffany and Marion, her tone a mixture of jest and caution. “You both know that I’m not emotionally mature enough to handle my girlfriend and roommate fighting, right? Don’t drive a girl insane now, y’hear?”

Tiffany felt the resentment rear up within her, but had grown accustomed to pushing it down. She hadn’t nurtured a grudge against Marion during all of the times she had been made welcome to hang out at her and Erin’s apartment, so there was no justification for it now.

“I’m sorry, Marion.” Tiffany shook her head, her voice more earnest now. “That was a crappy thing for me to say. Yeah it hurt at the time, but you were justified in doing it.”

Marion nodded grimly. “I’m sorry that’s how it all went down, Tiff. Really I am.”

Tiffany held her gaze and smiled solemnly. “I’m sorry for how the entire evening went down. I never wanted you or anyone else to get hurt.”

“I know you didn’t, Tiff. I just…” Marion paused to consider her words, then seemed hesitant to continue.

“Go on…” Tiffany gently reassured her. “I promise I won’t bite.”

“Well,” Marion took a deep breath, “It’s just, I think the Algorithm was bringing out the worst in you. Power corrupts, you know? It’s just since you’ve had space from it, you seem to be doing really well. You and Erin seem to be doing really well.”

“Heh…” Erin interrupted. “The reason you think that is because Tiff is really loud…”

“Erin!” Tiffany snapped. An involuntary flush started spreading on her cheeks.

“No! God! Erin, it’s- it’s not that!” Marion stammered, blushing even harder than Tiffany.

Erin just laughed. “Oh man, making you two squirm is like the best thing!”

“Erin.” Tiffany gave her an unimpressed stare.

“Okay, okay, sorry…” Erin rolled her eyes. “Just trying to diffuse the tension…”

“It’s okay,” Marion said, her eyes darting anywhere except Tiffany and Erin. “I’m just, I don’t know, proud of you both I guess…?”

“Proud?” Tiffany squinted in confusion.

“Well yeah.” Marion managed to look Tiffany in the eye again. “You took what happened in stride, instead of holding a grudge. You and Erin, you’ve really been there for each other. I only know the parts I experienced and the stuff Alice and Hannah told me about, but from the sounds of it you were really addicted to the Algorithm, and you’ve come clean out the other side.”

Tiffany felt a tightness in her chest as she mulled over her reply. Erin had once more gone silent, discomfort clear on her face.

She forced a chuckle, but her fingers curled against her knee. Was that what they thought? That she was just an addict who needed to be kept away from temptation? That she wasn’t in control of herself? She swallowed, shaking her head, before turning to face Marion.

“Are you worried, Marion?” Tiffany asked slowly. When Marion just gave her a confused frown, she continued. “Are you worried that being close to the Algorithm again will risk me relapsing?”

“No!” Marion shook her head frantically. “No Tiff, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“So what, are you worried about it corrupting you? All of you? Like it did to me?”

“No.” Marion’s shake was more brisk this time, her jaw clenching as concern covered her face. “It… It can’t. We have a system in place, checks and balances. And I’m not worried about you either Tiffany, Josh has made it all very secure. You wouldn’t be able to access it.”

“But if I could…” Tiffany narrowed her eyes slightly. “You wouldn’t trust me not to fall back into old habits, would you?”

Marion’s cheeks started blushing once more, but she said nothing. Erin looked at Tiffany with a frown that said ‘what the fuck are you doing?!’ in Erin’s special expressive way.

Tiffany then let out a sudden, sharp laugh. “I’m sorry Marion, I couldn’t help myself.”

Marion chuckled nervously in return. “You, you were messing with me…”

“Yeah…” Tiffany smiled cheekily, though her chest felt ready to implode. “I’m just nervous like you are. And why the fuck would you trust me? You didn’t then, you shouldn’t now. Hell, I don’t trust myself! I’ve not changed that much…”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Tiff.” Marion took a deep breath to alleviate her fluster. “I really shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” Tiffany said in a reassuring tone. “If anything, it’s easier to talk to you about this now. You’ve been in control of the Algorithm for the last month or so, well, you and your committee.” She gave Marion a serious nod. “You understand the power now, so I bet you understand the temptation to want to control that completely on your own. If you had had such a chance, you might have ended up like me.” Tiffany paused for a beat before pointedly adding, “Right?”

Marion hesitated, her eyes flickering nervously between Tiffany and the window. But then she smiled gently. “I guess I’m lucky I won’t ever find out.”

Erin, being in the middle, was darting her head round between them almost comically fast. “Okay, great!” she finally said after a strange calm had settled in the back seat. “We’re not still fighting. We can move on, can’t we?”

“Sure, Erin,” Tiffany said, looking out of her own window, her stomach feeling twisted. “We can move on.”

The rest of the journey ed in relative silence, aside from Gob violently slamming on the brakes to avoid hitting a speeding ambulance. Adrenaline spike aside, Tiffany was soon being led up the stairs to Josh’s apartment by Erin, Marion keeping pace beside them.

As they entered, the place was already starting to fill with people, mostly the spectators of the match as the team and cheerleaders had all gone to change. Tiffany spotted Alice and Trev by the DJ station in the corner, collectively failing to understand how it worked.

“So Josh is okay with everyone just waltzing in here without him?” Marion said with a bemused smile.

“Well kinda…” Erin grinned. “He gave me, Tiff, Alice, and Trev spare keys ages ago…”

“But I’m pretty sure that was for just us, not for spontaneous parties…” Tiffany shook her head with amusement.

“Should we put them outta their misery?” Erin asked, motioning to Trev and Alice who were looking incredibly flustered over trying to get music playing. “I know how to work that thing.”

“Let them squirm,” Tiffany replied, winking at Erin. “I need a drink first.”

“Oh, hey, Libby!” Marion waved to the tall brunette and sauntered over to a warm greeting.

Tiffany wandered to the kitchen area where Mike and Izzy were stocking up the fridge with an abundance of beers.

“Erin! Hey!” Izzy flashed a brief friendly smile, before her expression became much more neutral. “Hi, Tiff.”

“Izzy.” Tiffany mirrored Izzy’s curt nod. “Mike.”

“Sup, Tiff?” Mike greeted her with a genuine smile. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine, yeah.” Tiffany shrugged. “You?”

“I’ve been well,” Mike said, handing Tiffany a beer. “I’m glad you came.”

Tiffany blinked in surprise, looking to Erin to see if she heard that too, but Erin was already arm wrestling Izzy and not paying Mike any attention.

“You are?” Tiffany asked uncertainly as she took the beer and leaned against the counter next to Mike.

“Sure,” Mike said before taking a large swig of his own beer. “I’ve seen plenty of Erin these past few weeks, but you never turn up to skate with her.”

“Well you saw how well that went last time…” Tiffany said with wide eyes, before taking her own swig.

“But you’ve been doing something though, haven’t you?” Mike said as he looked her up and down. “Sorry if it comes off as creepy, but I can see you’ve lost weight and gained some muscle.”

“You can’t possibly tell…” Tiffany raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s been barely a month…”

“Ah, call it the curse of the observant.” Mike scratched his head nervously. “But I notice these things, it helps that I haven’t seen you in so long, I bet Erin hasn’t noticed the gradual change so easily.”

Tiffany swirled her beer around and then nodded. “Well, yeah, I’ve been working on myself a lot since the last party here. I needed to direct my energy somewhere.”

“Nothing to do with the Algorithm, then?”

“How do—“ Tiffany started, but then her expression hardened and she turned to Izzy who was now laughing with Erin about something. “Of course.”

“Hey, don’t worry, I wouldn’t tell a soul. No one would believe me,” Mike said with a shrug.

“How much do you know?” Tiffany gave Mike a look of scrutiny.

“Just Izzy’s experience of it.” Mike offered a faint smile. “The rest is guesswork based on observation and deduction.”

“Ha…” Tiffany stifled a self deprecating laugh. “That…”—she took a large swig of her beer— “That will not paint me in the best light.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mike shrugged. “It makes the whole smoking thing with Erin make more sense now. And it could all have been much worse. Really.”

Tiffany felt a squirming discomfort scurry around her guts. Was this entire evening going to be a revisit of her worst moments? Maybe it was a mistake to have come…

“By all means, judge away,” Tiffany offered. “God knows I judge myself enough.”

“Do you want to hear what I really think of you?” Mike raised an eyebrow. “I might surprise you.”

“You know what, Mike?” Tiffany chugged the rest of her beer and landed it firmly on the counter. “Why not?”

Mike chuckled as he popped the lid off another bottle and handed it to her. The noise of Tiffany slamming her empty bottle down had gotten Erin and Izzy’s attention and they too looked quizzically at Mike.

“Well, like I said, I like to think I’m rather observant,” Mike started. “And when we first met, I told you about the changes I noticed in Erin. And in hindsight it’s pretty clear that you were using the Algorithm on her back then.”

“Yes.” Tiffany nodded stiffly. “I was.” She didn’t see the point in lying about it, even if her manipulations of Erin probably weren’t to the extent Mike suspected they were.

“But since that last party here… Izzy told me how you involved her and the others, and how they decided the best thing was to exclude you from it. That must have been tough…”

Tiffany clenched her jaw, and tried to keep her expression neutral, not trusting herself to say anything in that moment. Anger simmered under her surface, and she tried hard to keep it there.

“But it’s really since then that I’ve noticed the changes in Erin,” Mike continued, glancing briefly at Erin before turning back to Tiffany.

Tiffany tilted her head to one side with a bemused smile. “Well, the clothes and hair are kinda obvious, no?”

Mike smirked and rolled his eyes. “She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her, Tiff. And that’s all you, not your messing around with this Algorithm and controlling people’s minds… That wasn’t the real you…“

Tiffany laughed, and it felt hollow. “Wasn’t it?” She gave Mike a discerning look. “It certainly felt like me the whole time.”

“Power corrupts, Tiff.” Mike shrugged. “I doubt I’d have done much better in your position. At least you can’t be tempted anymore.”

Tiffany felt a tension envelope her. Temptation…

Some days, temptation was all she felt. She had dropped most of her sleeper agents into trance at least once, with the exception of Libby and Rose. Each time it was mostly to ensure the programming had properly stuck, to highlight any potential loopholes, and to find out any vital information that might result in negative consequences for her.

But the temptation had always been there. To go further, to coil her control deeper into their minds. To do more than simply have them as sleeper agents.

She had thus far resisted. What she had justified in doing, however, was using Josh and Erin to indoctrinate Bobby and Mike respectively. As intimate partners of her existing sleeper agents, it felt prudent to bring them under her umbrella of control, lest they noticed anything untoward.

It also taught Tiffany a valuable lesson. That sleeper agents could make more sleeper agents, and not even that they had done so. The implications of this were far reaching, but Tiffany had been good, she’d been restrained… At least with the committee, anyway.

The temptation she felt right now was one of shoving all of this information into Mike’s face. Maybe then he’d stop trying to tell her how good she was, when clearly, she was a lying, manipulative bitch, barely holding onto what little restraint she had. And it didn’t matter if she did tell him, because the sleeper agent program would ensure the knowledge would seep out of his mind just as soon as the topic changed to something else.

Instead, Tiffany said, “Yeah, at least there’s that,” hoping that Mike didn’t see her clenched fist by her side.

He didn’t seem to. Instead. He held out his bottle. “Cheers, Tiff. I’m really happy for you both.”

As Tiffany met Mike’s bottle with her own, Erin interjected with a fake gagging noise. “Guys! This is getting far too mushy for me! You are the two people who know most how great I am in the sack, can you not just focus on that?”

Tiffany and Mike looked at Erin with the same unimpressed expression before glancing at each other. Tiffany felt an instant camaraderie with Mike, and knew that neither of them particularly wanted to give Erin the satisfaction.

Not looking away from Mike, Tiffany chewed her lip for a moment before saying, “I dunno Erin, maybe I’d rather talk about how you nuzzle your nose into my shoulder to show affection…”

“Tiff, no!” Erin looked horrified.

“Oh!” Mike said with a delighted smile. “Yeah I that! I mean if we’re sharing intimate details, how about when she—“

“Mike!” Erin seethed.

“—whispers to her food when she’s really excited to eat it?” Mike continued, unphased. ”Like, ‘You’re gonna be so fucking delicious, you little chocolately bastard.’”

“Mike, I swear to God!” Erin’s face turned an impressive shade of red as she whirled on him. Izzy and Tiff collectively held her back from throwing a punch, Izzy enjoying herself too much to take Erin’s side.

Tiffany gasped, delighted. “Oh my god, yes! You too? I thought she only did it to my snacks! Oh, Erin, this is gold!”

“Shut up, Tiff!” Erin hissed, her eyes wide with betrayal. “That is sacred. Sacred!”

“Oh, but we’re just getting started,” Tiffany said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. ”You wanted us to bond over intimate moments with you, right? Oh, how about—“

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Erin snapped, “I’ll kick you in the cunt!”

Tiffany turned on Erin and tilted her head as her lip curled up on one side, her eyes glinting with a look Erin knew better than anyone.

Erin immediately inhaled sharply, her entire body deflating as she quickly changed her tone. “I’m sorry, Misstr- I mean, Tiff!”

Tiffany nodded slightly, before noticing Izzy’s inquisitive glare.

“How about it, Izzy? Anything you want to share about Erin?”

“Ti-if!” Erin whined, her eyes pleading for mercy. “Please!”

“Wow,” Izzy remarked in a deadpan. “You’ve really tamed her, haven’t you?”

“Kinda,” Tiffany replied before turning her focus back to Erin. She ran her hand through Erin’s hair and smiled warmly. “She’s a work in progress. We both are.”

As Tiffany kissed Erin, it was Izzy’s turn to make the fake gagging noise. Mike chuckled and pulled Izzy close. “Maybe I should work on taming you, huh?”

“Do you want to actually die?” Izzy glared at him, but there was an edge to her voice that Tiffany noticed.

Before she could make a teasing comment, however, the door burst open and the entirety of the basketball team and most of the cheerleaders made a rapturous entrance. The people already there burst into cheers and applause, and by the time the clamour had started to wane, Bobby had run over to the DJ station and started cranking out beats that drove everyone to the dance floor.

Erin and Mike practically dragged Tiffany into the throng of dancers, her slight resistance melting away as she let herself be swept into the rhythmic chaos. Erin’s hand firmly clasped in hers as they navigated the growing crowd of people, before she spun her with a playful grin. Tiffany couldn’t help but laugh, her body relaxing into the flow of the music. Erin’s latex top and her silver pleated skirt shimmered under the colorful disco lights as she moved with an effortless, frenetic energy. Together, they moved like they’d rehearsed it, Erin teasingly trying to steal the lead while Tiffany humored her for a few moments before pulling her back into her arms with a smirk.

The crowd began to loosen up, the music acting like a tide pulling more people onto the makeshift dance floor. Izzy, in her signature ripped fishnets, combat boots, and an oversized flannel tied at her waist, was dragged out by Mike. Tiffany watched as Mike tried and humorously failed to keep up with Izzy’s wild, stomping movements that had an almost mosh-pit energy.

Alice and Trev ed the fray next, Alice’s skirt swirling around her as she clung to Trev’s arm, giggling at his over-the-top attempt to shimmy. Relieved of the burden of making the music work, they each hugged Tiffany enthusiastically before continuing to dance nearby.

The basketball team and their cheerleaders would not be denied however, and they dominated the floor as they poured into the apartment in several groups a few minutes apart. Before long, the place was packed and buzzing with energy. Josh had clearly upgraded his party setup—perhaps due to Bobby’s enthusiasm—as disco lights and lasers illuminated the darkened lounge in spectacular fashion.

Hannah and Rose danced near the center, their moves a fascinating contrast. Hannah was exuberant, practically glowing in her electric blue top and jeans, drawing attention from all around. Rose swayed shyly nearby, but smiled brightly whenever Hannah grabbed her hands to encourage her to move with gusto. Her Led Zeppelin t-shirt and skinny jeans were a sharp contrast to the dresses and skirts Lucy had habitually worn, but Rose was all about finding her own feet, including her dancing feet as she twirled under Hannah’s guiding hands.

Hannah had caught the attention of the team captain Marty, however, and the two of them engaged in an energetic duet with impressive sweeps, spins and even a flip or two. Tiffany was as impressed as she was surprised.

Then she noticed Libby and Marion off to the side, still nursing their drinks but bobbing their heads to the beat. Libby, with her confident aura and impeccable style—a fitted leather jacket over a floral jumpsuit—leaned close to whisper something to Marion, who blushed and laughed. Marion, ever practical, wore a cozy sweater and jeans but seemed to light up under Libby’s attention. Clearly not avid dancers, they seemed to be enjoying themselves and the vibe all the same.

Josh had been choosing music tracks with Bobby, so entered the fray last, still radiating post-game energy. His team uniform had been replaced by his habitual tracksuit pants, complimented at least with a Queen t-shirt. He jumped into the middle of the group and led his teammates into a spontaneous synchronized shuffle that had everyone cheering.

Tiffany soon found herself drawn back to Erin, who grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. They moved together, Erin’s chaotic energy blending with Tiffany’s more measured steps in a way that felt perfectly balanced. For a moment, the noise of the party faded, and it was just the two of them, their foreheads touching as their bodies swayed in time with the music.

“Hey,” Erin whispered, her voice barely audible over the beat. “Look at that smile...”

Tiffany chuckled, brushing a strand of Erin’s hair behind her ear. “You like my smile?”

“I do,” Erin said, grinning. “It’s fucking hot.”

Tiffany laughed, pulling Erin into a quick kiss before spinning her out dramatically, causing Erin to laugh loudly. As the song shifted into a slower beat, the group naturally gravitated toward each other, dancing in pairs or small clusters. For one upbeat song, it was Trev, Alice, and Josh who had coalesced around Tiffany and Erin, and they formed a circle, grinning at each other as they danced with extra gusto.

Tiffany looked around the circle, taking in the faces of her closest friends—her family. They had started this crazy adventure together, and despite—or maybe even because of—everything that had happened, she felt closer to them than ever.

Sure, things had been tough with the decisions made around the Algorithm, and sure, there was a constant weight of guilt hanging around her neck knowing that she had turned them into her unwilling sleeper agents that she could control at any moment. But just because she could, it didn’t mean she had. Despite near constant temptation, she hadn’t abused her power, she hadn’t fucked it all up. They were still together, and that’s exactly how they would move forward.

Together.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight she carried didn’t seem so heavy. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to work out okay.

There was a moment near the climax of the song where Tiffany danced in the middle of her four dearest friends, spinning around and catching their eyes at different moments.

Alice flashed her a smile of joy. It was that exact smile that had started Tiffany down her path of dominance and control. She had pined over Alice for so long, and the Algorithm had been the seductive key to making her fantasy a reality.

Tiffany was incredibly grateful that she failed in the manner that she had. Alice was now in a happy, stable relationship with Trev, who’s eyes Tiffany met next. Trev had always been the one who encouraged Tiffany to study less and have more fun. Manipulation, brainwashing, and control probably weren’t what he had in mind, but through the experience he’d summoned the courage to break up with the girl he wasn’t meant to be with and get with Alice, who he truly liked. Loved, even. Tiffany couldn’t help but feel very proud of him.

Next she caught Josh’s eye, and he took her hand to spin her around several times, both of them laughing. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought that his apartment would become the setting for the most exhilarating time of her life. Not to mention the fact that both of them, gay, had somehow had sex as well as seriously considered brainwashing themselves to be a couple for social convenience. Tiffany felt embarrassed at the memories of it, but also very grateful to be Josh’s friend.

Then she was facing Erin again, her girlfriend’s eyes alight with joy and her toothy grin as prominent as ever. Tiffany hadn’t just built a bridge with Erin, she had found a lover who complimented her in ways she never would have imagined. Her heart swelled with gratitude as they spun each other around and embraced as the song ended, their eyes locking in intense longing. Part of Tiffany wanted to drag Erin out of there and find a secluded spot to let her hands and tongue play fast and loose with the acceptable social limits of PDA. But another part of her felt an incredible peace and happiness in this moment, so much so she wished she could hold onto it, bottle it up, and keep it for the rest of her days.

And it was a moment that existed without the Algorithm. It was proof that she still had a life without it. Hell, she could quietly erase her sleeper agent programming from everyone tomorrow and things would continue on this path. And really, would that be such a bad path to go down?

She had stumbled and tripped her way here, been slapped, choked, clawed and bitten, nearly jumped off a bridge, nearly had her mind enslaved, and been exiled from the very power she had shared, snatching defeat from the jaws of her eventual, painful victory. And look where she had landed. Her friends still loved her. Better still, they had forgiven her. She hadn’t forced that. That was all programming free. Well, things were still awful with Hannah, and Izzy’s burning hatred may very well outlast the heat death of the universe, but still…

And then there was Erin. Erin had stuck with her even when—from her perspective—Tiffany had lost all the power she had been drawn to in the first place. As surreal as it was, their relationship had deepend far more than Tiffany had thought possible. It turned out they didn’t need the Algorithm to explore the depths of their dynamic, and Tiffany had never felt such trust and commitment in her life.

“I fucking love you, you know that?” she whispered to Erin as the next song slowly started playing.

“Tiffany Wilson!” Erin pretended to be shocked. “What atrocious language!” She pulled Tiffany into a long, sensual kiss. Tiffany melted, the exertion of the dancing and the heat of Erin’s touch combining to make her lightheaded as her tongue sparred with Erin’s.

“Get a roooooooom, guys!” They heard Trev laugh from nearby.

“No!” Josh strongly protested. “Don’t get a room! At least, not here! Not again!”

Not breaking from their kiss, Erin flipped off both Trev and Josh to much laughter from the surrounding dancers. The song started ramping up and soon nobody was paying them any attention at all.

When they broke from their entanglement, Tiffany could see Erin blushing hard, trying to hide a look of distress that was spilling out across her face.

“What’s wrong?” Tiffany asked.

Erin somehow blushed even harder, and shook her head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Erin Gauthier,” Tiffany said softly, barely audible over the sound of the music. “I know you better than that…”

Erin looked close to tears now. Tiffany felt equal parts bewildered and protective, and clasped her hand tight, leading her out of the throng of dancers and through a door until they were standing in the relative quiet of Josh’s bedroom, the closed door sealing them off from the party.

“Hey,” Tiffany said softly, moving a loose strand of hair out of Erin’s eye. “Talk to me.”

“It’s…” Erin shook her head in embarrassment, furiously wiping away tears. “It’s really dumb, Tiff, I don’t know why I’m being like this…”

Tiffany pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay…” she soothed. “You can tell me.”

Erin started sobbing lightly into Tiffany’s shoulder as Tiffany held her close.

“Or you don’t have to tell me,” Tiffany said after a minute or so had ed. “It’s okay to just cry. Either way I’m here.”

Tiffany held Erin tightly, the heat between them palpable, Erin’s body trembling as her emotions spilled out in raw, unfiltered waves.

“I never used to cry this much,” Erin burst out, her voice cracking with frustration and vulnerability. “I was tough, you know? I was a fucking badass bitch, Tiff... I didn’t let things get to me. Now I feel so… so weak. Like I’m not me anymore, Tiff. And it’s you. It’s you that’s done this to me.”

Tiffany froze, taken aback by Erin’s sudden outpouring. “Erin—”

“No, just… let me finish,” Erin interrupted, her hands clutching at Tiffany’s jacket like it was the only thing keeping her upright. “I love you, Tiffany. I’m so, completely, pathetically in love with you that it fucking terrifies me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s like… I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like I’m losing myself. Like I’m… soft.” She spat the word like it tasted foul.

Their eyes locked for a long moment, and Tiffany could see the fear that accompanied Erin’s confession. Tiffany knew how painfully difficult being vulnerable was for Erin, and she was determined to honour that.

“You’re not soft, Erin,” Tiffany said gently, her hands moving to cup Erin’s face. “You’re human. And you’re finally letting yourself feel things. That’s not weakness. That’s you being even more of a badass bitch than you’ve ever been before.”

“But what if it’s too much for you?” Erin whispered, her eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “What if—”

“Stop,” Tiffany said firmly, cutting her off. “Erin, if this was all happening before we were both brainwashed, I’d probably feel differently. But I’ve learned a lot thanks to the Algorithm, including a lot about myself.”

“It was easier when you had the Algorithm…” Erin sighed. “Because then you had complete control, and I knew that if I was part of your world then it was because you truly wanted me there. You could have had anybody…”

“But that’s the part that hasn’t changed,” Tiffany insisted, “I wanted you there then, and I want you here now.”

“But what if… what if I’m not enough for you? What if—”

“Erin.”

Tiffany’s hands slid down Erin’s body, pulling her closer. Her fingers found their way under the hem of Erin’s skirt, brushing against the smooth skin of her thighs. Erin gasped softly, her breath hitching as Tiffany’s fingers continued their exploration.

“You know me… I’m a horny mess, Erin,” Tiffany itted, her voice low. “I’m needy, I’m demanding… Sometimes I take charge completely, other times I want you to take charge of me. I really do expect a lot from you, and you’ve never let me down. Not once. I fucked up so many times when I had the Algorithm, and I gave you chances to walk away or end our dynamic. But despite all that, you’re still here. And now, dear Erin, there’s no escape for you. Now, you’re completely mine.”

Erin’s body shuddered, her breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts as Tiffany’s skillful fingers found their mark, teasing her with deliberate, tantalizing movements. “Tiff…”

“You’re overwhelmed because you’re finally letting your armor come off,” Tiffany continued, her lips brushing against Erin’s ear. “You’re letting yourself be vulnerable, and that’s scary. You’re feeling how deep you’ve fallen. But it’s also beautiful. I’ve got you.”

Erin whimpered, her hands gripping Tiffany’s shoulders for as her knees threatened to give way. Tiffany’s touch was electric, her words grounding and intoxicating all at once. Tiffany pushed Erin against the wall next to the door, looming over her as she worked her finger over Erin’s wet clit in smooth, delicate motions.

“Tell me what you told me that time,” Tiffany demanded, her whispered order laced with expectation.

“Tiff?” Erin managed between gasps. “Wh- what time?”

“At Alice’s apartment, the day after we first discovered the Algorithm.”

“Oh!” Erin’s eyes widened, partly because Tiffany had pushed her finger smoothly into her wet folds, partly due to the memory flooding back to her.

“Say it for me,” Tiffany said, a sly smile forming on her lips.

Erin looked up into Tiffany’s eyes, her expression needy, her voice shaking with the pleasure pulsing through her. “You- you don’t need to use the Algorithm on me for me to be your slave... Sho- No, wait… Command me... Then show me you have the strength and the- the will to control me… And I’m… I-I’m yours.”

Tiffany raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, a subtle signal to Erin that she wasn’t quite finished.

“Mistress,” Erin added with a reverence in her voice that was mixed with astonishment. “Holy fuck, Tiff. You did it, you actually did it!”

“I did,” Tiffany replied, the triumph in her voice tempered by a calm confidence. “I own you, Erin. You belong to me. And there’s no going back, slave. You’re mine now. Forever.” With those words, Tiffany pushed another finger inside Erin’s dripping cunt, curling her fingers and stroking as Erin’s body shuddered. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?”

“Oh fuck!” Erin’s eyes fluttered closed as ragged breaths overtook her. “I’m yours. Oh, Mistress. Oh fuck. Fuuuuuuck! Please… Please don’t stop, Mistress. Please!”

“You’re my good girl, Erin.” Tiffany purred as her free hand wrapped around Erin’s neck, her fingers threatening to tighten but only applying light pressure. “Say it:”

“I’m your good girl,” Erin whined, her eyes locked on Tiffany, her pleading desperation for release written all over her face.

“You belong to me.” Tiffany leaned in so their lips were brushing.

“I belong to you.”

“Obedience is pleasure.”

“Obedience is pleasure,” Erin repeated, her ragged breaths thick and fast, punctuated by her whimpers and moans.

“And Erin,” Tiffany said, her voice dropping to a scarce whisper, “I need to tell you something else.”

Erin blinked, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. “What… what is it?”

Tiffany’s fingers moved with precision, bringing Erin closer and closer to the edge. “I still have control of the Algorithm,” she itted, her voice steady and calm. “I never lost it. I programmed everyone, even you, to forget about it if you ever found out.”

Erin tried to contain the deep moan coming out of her mouth. Hopefully the music in the lounge was loud enough to stifle her crescendo of pleasure.

“Everyone who knows about the Algorithm is under my control. The self righteous fuckers who voted to ban us both from it, under my control.”

”Holy- Holy- Holy fucking fuck…” was all Erin could manage, her entire body shaking around Tiffany’s fingers, her own fingers digging into Tiffany’s shoulders.

“I can make any of them into my perfect, obedient slave. Anytime I want.”

Erin’s eyes widened, shock and ecstasy competing across her face. But she was no longer capable of words.

“But the best thing is,” Tiffany said, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “I didn’t need to brainwash you or program you to be this way for me. You’re my perfect little slave just as you are. Cum for me.”

That did it. Erin cried out, her body trembling violently as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She clung to Tiffany, her legs barely holding her upright as she surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensations.

As the last tremors of her release subsided, Tiffany removed her fingers from her slave’s dripping pussy. Erin then sank to her knees, her head bowed and her hands resting on Tiffany’s thighs. “Mistress,” she whispered, her voice filled with reverence and gratitude. “Holy fuck.”

Tiffany smiled, pushing her wet fingers into Erin’s mouth, enjoying Erin’s tongue running over them, cleaning and tasting her own juices. With her other hand, Tiffany gently ran her fingers through Erin’s hair. “You’re perfect, Erin. And I’m never letting you go.”

After several moments of licking Tiffany’s fingers clean, Erin looked up at Tiffany with a strange mixture of iration and pouting. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mistress?”

“Oh, dear slave…” Tiffany looked down with amusement. “This is like the fifteenth time I’ve told you. But you’re programmed to forgot. Already it’s slipping from your mind.”

”But… I want to …” Erin said pleadingly, even as the programming began to erase her memory of the crucial revelation.

“I know,” Tiffany said, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. She motioned Erin forward with a finger. Erin crawled slowly towards the bed, her submission remaining unwavering. “I’ll adjust your programming one of these days so you retain awareness of it all, but I it I’m enjoying replaying the revelation over and over. It’s…” Tiffany ran her fingers under her nose, the scent of Erin’s arousal still strong. “… fun.”

“You really are a magnificent bitch, you know that?” Erin said cockily from the floor. She leaned forward, her lips pressing reverently against the fabric covering Tiffany’s thigh as she whispered, “How may this slave serve you, Mistress?”

Tiffany tilted Erin’s chin up, looking down into her adoring eyes. “I think you know what I like, Erin. It’s time to worship your Mistress. By the time you have, you’ll have forgotten that I control the Algorithm, but you’ll be under no illusion that I control you.”

“God, that’s so fucking hot…” Erin blushed as she deftly pulled down Tiffany’s pants and started planting hungry kisses on the inside of her legs. “Sorry I lost my shit back there.”

“I’m not.” Tiffany sighed as Erin’s hands glided over her thighs and her thumbs hooked around the waistline of her red lace panties.

“Heh.” Erin chuckled between wet kisses, teasing the perimeter of Tiffany’s neatly shaved pussy. She gently but firmly pushed Tiffany’s thighs wide open. “Yeah, I guess it worked out pretty fucking good.”

As her tongue ran over Tiffany’s needy cunt, Tiffany let herself fall back onto Josh’s bed with a happy sigh. “Such a good girl for me…” she murmured.

Erin’s tongue worked with fervent precision, every flick and stroke sending shivers cascading through Tiffany’s body. The lingering weight of their earlier conversation seemed to dissipate completely, replaced by an all-encoming pleasure that grounded Tiffany in the moment. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her as her body arched, welcoming Erin’s eager devotion.

“Yes, Erin,” Tiffany purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Yes, slave! Such a good… mmmm… slave…”

Erin hummed her agreement, the vibration against Tiffany’s sensitive flesh earning a sharp gasp from her Mistress. Her hands gripped Tiffany’s thighs, holding her in place as she continued her worship, her mouth and tongue working in perfect harmony. It wasn’t just obedience—to Tiffany it felt like reverence, devotion, and love rolled into every sensual movement.

‘She’s always been so good at this…’ Tiffany thought, her fingers tangling in Erin’s messy hair as she pulled her closer. ’Even before the Algorithm, she was this good. I was missing what was right in front of me.”

Tiffany’s breath hitched, her hips bucking instinctively against Erin’s mouth. Every touch, every movement felt electric, like a live wire running through her. Erin’s hands gripped her thighs tighter, keeping her steady as she pushed Tiffany closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck! Yes!” Tiffany gasped, her head tilting back as the pressure built within her. “Oh my god… so fucking good…”

Erin moaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through Tiffany’s core. Her movements became more deliberate, focused, as if she could sense just how close her Mistress was to falling apart.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop… Don’t—“

And then it happened. Tiffany’s body tensed, her back arching off the bed as a wave of ecstasy crashed over her, her efforts to stifle her bursting screams requiring her to hastily grab Josh’s pillow and bury her face in it.

Wave after wave of pleasure cascaded through her as Erin continued relentlessly, until eventually Tiffany had to push her away and beg her to stop.

Breathless and trembling, she clung to Erin, her fingers tightening in her hair as she rode out the aftershocks of the powerful climax.

When the tremors finally subsided, Tiffany sank back onto the bed, utterly spent but deeply satisfied, letting out a long, contented sigh. Erin rested her head against Tiffany’s thigh, her hands gently stroking her Mistress’s skin as they both caught their breath.

“God, Erin,” Tiffany said after a moment, her voice laced with lazy contentment. “You really are perfect.”

Erin smirked up at her, her eyes shining with mischief. “Only because you trained me to be, Mistress.”

Tiffany laughed softly, her hand reaching down to cup Erin’s cheek. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ve always been this perfect, and I just helped you see it.”

Erin kissed Tiffany’s palm, her smile softening into something more tender. “Either way, I’m glad you chose me.”

“I’m glad you let me,” Tiffany said firmly, her gaze steady and warm. “Now come here.”

Erin climbed up onto the bed, curling into Tiffany’s side as their bodies entwined. For a while, they simply lay there, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence, the noise of the party outside fading into the background.

“It’s not what I had in mind, honestly.” Erin said softly.

“Oh?” Tiffany raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mean that in like a bad way!” Erin quickly corrected herself, kissing Tiffany on the cheek before laying her head on her chest. “I mean, this is wonderful.”

“Tell me what you did have in mind…” Tiffany encouraged. “You’ve made me curious.”

“Well, firstly it involved those assholes not voting to expel us from being involved with the Algorithm…” Erin started, a little bitterness in her voice.

“Ah, so we’d still have the Algorithm?” Tiffany asked, smiling to herself. Erin had already forgotten Tiffany’s confession to her. It seemed to take a different amount of time for Erin to forget each time. Tiffany was starting to realize that the longer they talked about the Algorithm from the moment of reveal, the longer Erin was able to retain the memory. But as soon as the conversation ended or they did any other activity—yes, usually that activity—the memory would return to her hidden subconscious like water flowing down a drain.

“You’d have the Algorithm, Mistress,” Erin insisted as she stroked Tiffany’s bare legs. “I’d only be allowed to use it with your strict permission, to stop me from accidentally leaving unintended programming in your mind again…”

“Ah, so you’d stop suggesting orgies and things?” Tiffany jested lightly.

“No fucking way!” Erin slapped Tiffany’s bare thigh, albeit lightly. “I’m never gonna stop suggesting that! But I promise you’ll be able to say yes or no without me leaving dangerous programming in your head.”

”Mhm,” Tiffany murmured. “That’s probably for the best. If there’s going to be chaos, it at least needs to be controlled.”

“As long as it’s your chaos, Mistress.” Erin purred. She then looked up, gazing with sheer adoration into Tiffany’s eyes. “But what I meant is that if you had the Algorithm, I pictured myself as one of several slaves that served you.”

“Oh yeah?” Tiffany raised an eyebrow. “I hope I don’t make you feel like you aren’t enough, Erin, because you are and then some.” Tiffany stroked Erin’s head tenderly. “Like I said, I’m pretty high maintenance, but you maintain me like a boss. And your tongue… Jesus fucking Christ, you know how to make a girl feel special!”

“Heh.” Erin grinned. “I’m happy Mistress approves.”

Tiffany thought for a moment. “Say, it isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned this. Do you want there to be more people in our relationship?”

“Umm…” Erin looked confused. “I just want what you want, Mistress.”

Tiffany ran her fingers under Erin’s chin, guiding her to look into Tiffany’s eyes. “My dear sweet Erin… I’ve not brainwashed you with the Algorithm, I’ve not programmed you to care about my needs while ignoring your own. I want you as you are, which means if there’s something you desire, I want to know about it. How else am I supposed to keep you wrapped around my fingers if I don’t let you indulge your fantasies?”

Erin blinked a few times before looking away for a moment. When she looked back, she was still blinking a lot, her eyes glossy. “Dammit Tiff, you’re gonna make me cry again. I don’t do crying for fuck sake!”

“You do for me.” Tiffany smiled kindly before giving Erin an inquisitive stare. “But there’s something you do want. Spill it.”

“Oh, um, okay…” Erin smiled nervously, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. “I guess I always pictured other slaves serving you alongside me, but I was always your favourite, and I got to boss them around, use them for my pleasure, and direct them for yours… I convinced myself it was something you wanted, but really, the idea of it gets me all excited.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Tiffany leaned forward and kissed Erin on the forehead. “You know I’ll always be open to discussing these things, you don’t need to keep them bottled up.”

“I know…” Erin shook her head sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to disappoint you, or make you think that what we have isn’t enough…”

“It’s okay,” Tiffany whispered softly. “I get it.”

She pulled Erin towards her and they kissed tenderly, a contrast to the intense intimacy of just a few minutes previously.

Tiffany pulled away by a fraction, their faces staying an inch apart. “I mean, I hope I’ve reassured you that you’re not going anywhere. I love you Erin. I want you. If it’s just you and I from here on out, then I’ll have everything I ever need.”

“I love you too, Tiff. Mistress,” Erin whispered back.

“But if you want to explore some fantasies, I’m game, Erin. I have fantasies too, you know.”

Erin bit her lip. “Oh I know.”

“And let’s face it, Erin…” Tiffany ran her finger over Erin’s lips playfully. “I’m pretty sure my fantasies are more extreme and depraved than anything you can come up with…”

Erin’s eyes lit up. “Is that a challenge, Mistress?”

They stared wilfully into each other’s eyes for a moment, before both of them burst into stifled laughter.

“Oh, this is gonna get weird, isn’t it…” Erin remarked, an eager grin stuck on her face.

“Almost definitely,” Tiffany replied. “I’ve been working on this idea that I think you’ll love, I’m hoping to have it ready before Christmas.”

“Oh, tell me more!” Erin beamed eagerly.

“Oh, no, I can’t do that…” Tiffany shook her head in jest. “It would ruin the surprise!”

“Evil!” Erin grabbed Tiffany’s waste and tickled her through her blazer. Tiffany shrieked with laughter as she tried to push Erin away.

“Get off me you demon! I swear I’ll make you pay!” Tiffany tickled Erin back and the two of them tumbled over Josh’s bed.

After a frantic exchange, both Erin and Tiffany were panting for breath, Tiffany pinning Erin by her wrists.

“Fuck, Tiff! When did you get so strong?!” Erin exclaimed.

“I’ve made it to the gym once or twice.” Tiffany shrugged. She glanced at the door. “Think we should head back through?”

“I dunno,” Erin said wearily. “Josh is gonna assume we did stuff in here, and I’m not sure I can face that look of unwarranted accusation.”

“Bit Erin, we did do stuff in here.” Tiffany smiled cheekily. “And it’s not the first time either.”

”Urgh, fine!” Erin rolled her eyes. “Really I’m just embarrassed I lost it on the dance floor.”

“Hey… You were bottling your feelings…” Tiffany said kindly. “You needed to let them out.”

“Yeah…” Erin pouted, “but my street cred… If Mike or Izzy saw me…”

“They were enjoying each other too much.” Tiffany chucked, shaking her head in amusement. “Besides… You’re hardly the only one who’s kept shit bottled up... I’d been crushing on Alice for months.” She started counting on her fingers. “Josh was pining after Bobby. Alice was struggling in silence, she itted herself she was close to the edge before we tipped her over it. And Trev, well he was denying his feelings for Alice worse than I was. He loved her even though he’d been going steady for years with Lucy…”

There was a sudden sharp intake of breath from somewhere in the room. Tiffany spun around in fright, but couldn’t see anyone.

“Hello…” She said nervously. “Is there anyone in here?”

Erin quickly jumped off the bed, placing herself in front of Tiffany instinctively. Tiffany peered around in the darkness, her heart pounding with sudden adrenaline.

Then she saw a slight movement of the large leather gaming chair that sat in front of the main screen of the inactive Algorithm.

“You in the chair!” Tiffany snapped. “We can see you! Turn around!””

There were a tense few moments where nothing happened, Tiffany and Erin staring down the back of the chair.

“Fuck this!” Erin eventually muttered. “Where’s that baseball bat?”

“Okay.” A calm voice said. The chair spin around, and sitting in it, looking slightly awkward, was-

“Lucy!?” Tiffany and Erin said in unison.

“No, wait, Rose,” Tiffany corrected herself. “What are you doing there?!”

Rose looked up at them both, her posture stiff and her wide, unblinking eyes fixed on Tiffany. “I’m sitting,” she replied plainly. Watching the look of irritation on Tiffany’s face, her brow furrowed in thought. “I’m sorry,” she added, “is that not okay?”

“Not when we’re in here doing—“ Tiffany stopped herself, her eyes narrowing into a bewildered squint. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“No,” Rose replied. “I was at the basketball game and then—“

“The whole time we’ve been here!” Tiffany interrupted, tightly pinching the bridge of her nose. “In this room,” she added. ”Just now.”

“Oh, okay.” Rose nodded. “Then yes.”

“Uh, Mistress…” Erin whispered into Tiffany’s ear, “your pants.”

“Fucking hell!” Tiffany felt herself blushing furiously as she scrambled to get her underwear and pants back on, except she couldn’t find where her panties had gone.

Seeing Tiffany tumble bottomless over Josh’s bed in her frantic search, Erin’s look of surprise quickly gave way to amusement. “Oh man… So you were here while Tiff—“

“Erin!” Tiffany hissed, holding her bunched up pants over her crotch as she frantically looked around the floor for the missing piece, “She was here the whole time, okay? We don’t need to go into details.“

Erin couldn’t contain her laughter, and it burst out of her while Tiffany’s cheeks turned scarlet.

She kept looking until muttering “Fuck it!” and giving up on her search, hurriedly pulling her pants back up, nearly falling over in the process.

Erin was useless, holding her sides as stitches of laughter overtook her. Rose smiled faintly, confusion at the different reactions evident all over her face.

Once Tiffany had fastened her pants, she futilely tried to compose herself and fix her pixie hair. After a few moments, she focused her attention back on Rose.

“Okay, why didn’t you reveal yourself when we first came in?”

“It sounded like you were having a private discussion,” Rose replied, her tone utterly devoid of shame or discomfort. “I didn’t think you’d want me to interrupt, so I stayed quiet.”

“I mean…” Erin managed to say as her laughter subsided. “That wouldn’t be so bad if it was just talking we did…” She then turned to Tiffany, her eyes alight with mischievous delight. “But then you”—she made a suggestive motion with her fingers—“and then I”—her face became an exaggeration of her intensely licking while rolling her eyes back in her head.

“Stop it!” Tiffany slapped her on the arm, the humiliation burning in her cheeks still. She ran her hands through her hair in frustration before turning back to Rose. “You thought we’d just leave and not notice you?”

“Yes.” Rose’s gaze shifted to Tiffany, studying her intently, like she was catag her reaction. “It seemed like a conversation I shouldn’t interrupt. Was that wrong?”

The stark simplicity of her words sent a chill down Tiffany’s spine. There was no malice or embarrassment in Rose’s tone—just an eerie, childlike sincerity. It was unnerving. Tiffany had expected some level of awkwardness, maybe an apology, but Rose’s calm demeanor threw her completely off balance.

The sinister guile and ionate determination that had once upon a time coloured Lucy’s expression and posture were nowhere to be seen. Lucy truly was gone, and there sat Rose.

“Well… yes, that was wrong,” Tiffany said hesitantly, stepping closer. Her previous irritation dissolving, she realised she couldn’t treat Rose the same way she would a peer. “If someone comes into a room and you’re there, you should say something. Especially if… I mean, you should have made your presence known to us the moment we entered, so we could have gone somewhere else if we wanted to have that kind of privacy…”

“Okay,” Lucy nodded briskly. “I’ll do that next time.” She then looked like she was hard at thought for a moment before adding an earnest, “I’m sorry Tiff. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Tiffany felt herself deflate. The frustration and embarrassment gave way to an overwhelming sense of pity. Crossing her arms and shifting in place, Tiffany addressed Rose in a softer tone. “It’s okay… you’re learning.” When Rose smiled solemnly in return, Tiffany added, “What did you come through here for anyway?”

“I needed a break from the party,” Rose explained calmly. “It was fun but getting a bit too much for me. The lights and music and people. I just needed some quiet.”

Erin had mostly regained her composure at this point. “And this is where you came? To sit in front of the Algorithm?”

“Yes.”

“But why? Why here of all places?” Erin gave her a scrutinizing look.

“It’s where I started,” Rose said simply, her voice devoid of emotion. “Where Lucy ended, and I began.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, instantly sobering both Tiffany and Erin, as they exchanged a concerned glance with each other.

Rose continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension she’d created. “I don’t anything before sitting here. They told me that I’m Lucy, but all the memories they say I’ve lost… None of it means anything to me. Just like the name. Lucy. It just feels made up.“

Tiffany shifted awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It must be really disorientating for you.”

“It is.” Rose nodded. “But being here helps. Lucy is gone, erased, and I was what came after. This chair is where it happened. It’s… familiar. I spend a lot of time here.”

Tiffany’s brow furrowed. “Because they’ve used the Algorithm on you a ton, haven’t they? When they were trying to bring your memories back.”

“Yes,” Rose replied, her tone as calm as ever. “They used the Algorithm on me repeatedly, trying to restore her. Restore me? And of course I’ll sit here, so they can try. But…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to the chair.

“But what?” Erin asked softly, her earlier mirth completely gone.

Rose’s eyes met Tiffany’s, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something—vulnerability, maybe fear. “The first few days… The first two weeks even, I felt like I didn’t really exist. That I was simply a void that was here because of what happened to Lucy… But as time went on, and it still wasn’t working…”

“You started feeling like you were someone,” Tiffany said solemnly.

“Someone not Lucy,” Erin added, her expression almost a grimace now.

“Yes,” Rose replied, her voice lowering to nearly a whisper. ”If they succeed… if they bring Lucy back… She isn’t me. Will I just… go?”

The question hit Tiffany like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t thought about it that way before. She glanced at Erin, who looked equally unsettled.

“I… I don’t know, Rose,” Tiffany itted, her voice quieter now. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”

Rose nodded, her face unreadable. “I think about it a lot.”

“Rose, I—” Tiffany started, but Rose cut her off with a small, sad smile.

“It’s okay. I’m not scared. Not really. I won’t feel anything if I’m gone. I just wanted to… say it. Out loud.”

Tiffany shuddered as she felt a chill running down her spine. This was quickly followed by a spike of anger at Josh, Trev, and everyone else who had been trying to bring Lucy back. They were taking too long, and now a new personality was growing in the fertile fields of Lucy’s ploughed and scattered memories. It was rapidly becoming a trolley problem, and Tiffany hated trolley problems.

“You were doing a pretty good job at staying silent for the most part,” Erin remarked with a raised eyebrow. “Then you gave yourself away. How come?”

“Oh.” Rose looked quizzically at Erin. “Yes I suppose I did.” She looked to Tiffany for a moment then back to Erin. “Tiffany said that I, or Lucy I guess, but she had been in a relationship with Trev?”

Tiffany and Erin shared another concerned glance. Tiffany’s expression was grim when she turned back to Rose.

“Yes,” she said bluntly. “You were.”

“Really?” Rose said, looking around in confusion and disbelief. “They didn’t tell me that.”

“You and Trev had been best friends from childhood…” Erin said, her tone cautious.

“Yes, that’s what they told me.”

“Not that you started dating Trev a year before he left for college?” Tiffany furrowed her brow. “Not that you followed him out here a year later despite being offered a place at Yale?”

“No,” Rose said, scrutinising Tiffany’s expression before attempting to mirror it.

“I wonder what else they haven’t told her.” Erin frowned. “And why…”

Tiffany crossed her arms tightly, her mind racing. Lucy, Rose, however you addressed her… Fixing her, recovering her memories… She had left that as a project of the committee that had banished Erin and herself from the Algorithm. Was this her fault? Should she have kept herself more involved? She could have; she had covert control over everyone after all.

But she had been determined to be disciplined with her power, damnit! She thought Josh would have the knowledge and Trev would have the determination to see things through. But here Lucy sat, her lack of identity starting to assert itself as a unique individual… And they’d been keeping key information from her!? She felt anger simmering up within.

Before she could voice her outrage, the door flew open, the noise and lights of the party flooding into the room, silhouetting a worried looking Hannah.

“Tiff! Erin! Have you seen…” Hannah started before her eyes found their way to the chair. “Rose!” she exclaimed, part relief, part irritation colouring her tone. “God, you had me worried!”

Rushing over to Rose, Hannah crouched down so their eyes were level. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Rose said, slight confusion in her voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Hannah suddenly corrected her tone. “I just didn’t know where you had gone, why did you leave?”

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” Rose said, carefully scrutinising Hannah’s expression. “You were dancing and looked so happy and I didn’t want your looking after me to prevent your fun.”

Hannah wrapped her arms around Rose. “Don’t be stupid. You don’t ruin my fun, I just want to help you have fun too.”

Erin shuffled next to Tiffany as they both watched Rose tentatively hug Hannah back. “Hey,” Erin muttered out of the side of her mouth, “you don’t think they’re, y’know, fu…”

“Shhh…” Tiffany hissed back, before fully processing what Erin was saying. “What?! No!”

Hannah pulled Rose out of the chair, fixing a strand of her frizzy hair. “They didn’t do anything to you, did they?”

“What like?” Lucy replied in uncertainty.

“Hey!” Erin protested. “We did fuck all to her!”

“Hannah…” Tiffany said onishingly. “What would we possibly do?”

“In this room, Tiff?” Hannah replied with a sardonic smirk.

Tiffany could feel herself bristle. It was a provocation, and she was more than willing to drop Hannah into a trance and… And… Well that would just be validating Hannah’s veiled accusation, wouldn’t it?

She couldn’t have that…

So instead, Tiffany screwed up her face as if she’d just bitten into a terribly potent lemon before begrudgingly saying, “Fair point.”

“Hannah,” Erin said with a strange mashup of stern and jovial. “We came in here because I was having an episode on the dance floor. After setting me straight, Tiff and I fooled around a bit, and only discovered your lady Rose here after the fact as she was sitting there facing away from us the whole time. I frankly found it hilarious while Tiff was clearly embarrassed, but the whole fucking thing has been overshadowed by the fact that you guys never told her that she used to date fucking Trev!” Erin then threw her arms up in exasperation. “I mean, Jesus fuck! What are you fucking doing with her?!”

Hannah took a few moments to process Erin’s verbal deluge, something Tiffany found ironically entertaining since Hannah used to be the one to deliver so much speech so quickly that the recipient could never keep up. She watched as a plethora of expressions rapidly played across Hannah’s face: intrigue, surprise, amusement, before finally settling on frustration. She walked over to the open door, closing it with deliberate care and turning to face Tiffany and Erin as the room returned to quiet dimness.

“I was outvoted,” Hannah remarked bluntly. She then looked to Rose, her expression softening, her voice brimming with remorse. “Please believe me Rose, I wanted to tell you but they wouldn’t let me.” She walked back over and took Rose’s hands in her own, squeezing them tightly.

“It’s okay,” Rose said quietly, though the hurt was evident in her voice. “I know you’re trying to help me.”

“Why not just tell her?” Erin asked with an exasperated grimace.

“Because the next time they put her in front of the Algorithm, they’d know I did,” Hannah said warily. “And then they might vote to not let me spend time with Rose anymore.” She looked back at Rose, her eyes glossy. “I need to do everything I can to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

“I…” Rose started. “I don’t want to lose you, Hannah.”

Hannah pulled her into a tight hug. “Me neither.”

Tiffany’s mind was racing with this new information. She had expected the Algorithm committee to fumble around in indecision, sure. Hell, she had positively relished their complete lack of progress. But this… This situation with Lucy, this wasn’t okay.

And Tiffany knew instantly that if she wanted to, she could get more involved. She could stop hiding in the shadows and take control of the committee, and ensure they made better decisions, because this one was fucked up.

“I think we need to talk about this more,” Tiffany frowned. “Maybe not tonight, but soon.”

Hannah sighed heavily, turning her attention from Rose to Tiffany. “No offense, Tiff, but what is there to talk about? It’s not like you can be a vote in my favour or anything.”

“And whose fucking fault is that?!” Erin snapped before Tiffany could say anything.

Hannah’s eyes flashed with a fury Tiffany had only seen once before. Tiffany quickly put herself between Hannah and Erin, hands outstretched.

“Stop,” she said firmly, giving Erin a severe glance and Hannah a grim shake of her head. “We’re not doing this, not here. Erin, apologise.”

“But Ti—“ Erin’s words were cut off as Tiffany looked into her eyes intensely. She tensed up, heaved a massive, reluctant sigh, and then looked at Hannah with a conciliatory expression. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” she said sincerely. “What happened here last time was very difficult for me, and I’m doing my best to move past it.“

Hannah’s expression softened somewhat with this, but her eyes were still fiery and her lips were tightly pressed together.

“Hannah,” Tiffany said softly. “Even if I can’t directly intervene, you can still talk to me. Always.”

Hannah gave Tiffany an appraising look. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tiffany’s eyes met Hannah’s, the redhead’s expression calming.

Hannah turned back to Rose. “Are we okay?”

Rose smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

“You know I’d never lie to you or keep things from you unless it’s out of my control, right?”

“Right,” Rose repeated. Tiffany watched Rose’s expression carefully. She was clearly progressing a lot, the hidden information a source of great intrigue to her, and the secrecy behind it causing confusion and upset. But she very obviously liked and trusted Hannah deeply, as the reassurance seemed to calm her somewhat.

Tiffany exhaled softly, trying to suppress the weight in her chest as she turned to Hannah. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help,” she said, keeping her voice even, measured. The words felt sour in her mouth—because they weren’t true. She could be more help. She could take control of the entire situation with just a few well-placed words to enough committee . But would her helping make things better or worse? She’d stayed out of their official business this long, only sneaking generalized updates from them, mostly Hannah and Marion who could be easily tranced in isolation.

Hannah gave a humorless chuckle, crossing her arms. “Yeah. Well, it is what it is.“ She then let her arms fall to her side and shook her head with a derisive snort. “Erin’s right. I forced you out and you’d probably swing the vote on this issue for me if I hadn’t. I’m such an idiot.”

“No.” Tiffany shook her head, “You’re not an idiot. Everyone feels safer without me being involved in the Algorithm. It’s better this way.”

“Is it?” Hannah replied despondently, looking up at Tiffany with harrowed eyes. “Am I?”

Tiffany hesitated, looking at Hannah properly for the first time in weeks. She really took her in—the confident posture, the sharp gaze, the way she carried herself now, like someone who knew their strength. It was impossible not to notice how much she had changed.

“You seem to be doing really well,” Tiffany itted, almost cautiously. “Like, really well. I’ve been watching you when I can. I see you in the classes we share, it looks you’ve made new friends. You’ve got guys approaching you. You have this energy about you… You’re… I dunno, you just seem so different from how you used to be.”

Erin nodded enthusiastically, stepping in. “Yeah, seriously, Hannah! You’ve been killing it. I mean, fuck, you used to stammer through conversations and second-guess yourself every five seconds.” She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Like, where did all that anxiety go?”

For a fraction of a second, Tiffany saw something flicker across Hannah’s face. A tiny, fleeting crack in the mask.

And just like that, Tiffany knew.

The anxious, rapid talking, insecure Hannah? She hadn’t gone anywhere. She was buried.

Hannah forced a small smirk, rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah Erin, because that’s how it works. You just decide not to be anxious anymore and”—she gestured with her hands—“poof! gone forever.”

Erin’s grin faltered slightly. “I mean, that’s not what I—”

“It’s fine,” Hannah cut in quickly. She let out a small laugh, but there was no humor in it. “You’re right, Tiff. I am different now. I dress sharper, I talk better, I go out. I meet new people. I’ve had multiple chances to sleep with guys who wouldn’t have looked at me twice before.” Her voice stayed casual, but something about it felt… off. “I do my best. It just so happens my best looks a lot more appealing to everyone than it used to. Nobody misses the old me, right?”

Tiffany’s stomach twisted.

It wasn’t just the words—it was how she said them. The way they were polished, rehearsed, like she had told herself this same thing a thousand times before.

Tiffany exhaled slowly. “Let me guess. People now tell you how you look good? When they never did before. Or how much they like this new you? Right?”

Hannah’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for the first time in the entire conversation, Tiffany could see it. Really see it.

“Hannah, the Algorithm has done something to me,” Tiffany confessed. “Like, it’s not been used on me or anything, but some days, I feel like I’m nothing without it. Like I’ve lost the only thing that ever made me special.” She let out a sharp breath. “And if one more person tells me how proud they are of me for getting past it, for being so much better now—”

“You’re going to snap,” Hannah finished.

Tiffany nodded once, looking at Hannah with a stoic expression.

Hannah met her gaze head-on. “You fucked up letting me, Marion, Libby, and Izzy be involved with deciding what happens with the Algorithm.”

The words landed hard, but Tiffany kept still.

“Honestly, Tiff, I know we’ve barely spoken but I’ve been watching you too. You’ve been a shadow of yourself ever since,” Hannah continued, unwavering. “And I don’t know if you hate me for it, or if you just regret it, but it’s not been good for any of us.”

Tiffany exhaled slowly.

“I know I’m one of the people who took the Algorithm from you,” Hannah said earnestly. “But you let me. That was your biggest mistake.”

“We each thought,” Tiffany croaked, her throat suddenly dry, “that we were doing the right thing at the time.”

“I think that’s what I thought in the moment, yes,” Hannah said bitterly, “But since then, I’ve realised that I took it from you because I wanted to beat you.”

Tiffany felt a sudden sharp pain briefly in her chest, the lump in her throat getting bigger. She didn’t say anything to that. She couldn’t. She could feel Erin bristling beside her, but she grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight, hoping Erin would know to just let Hannah speak.

“I wanted you to feel powerless for a change, and I wanted to be the one with the power,” Hannah continued, her words heavy with pained emotion. “Getting you out of the way was the first step, but now I’m stuck in this fucking committee with everyone else who all want to do different things. We’re paralysed.”

She hesitated, then continued, “The idea of you having the Algorithm? Terrifies me. But seeing you without it?” Her voice dropped slightly. “I… I actually pity you.”

Tiffany’s fingers twitched slightly as she took a sharp breath in. She could feel a tremble within her that threatened to become an earthquake. In the back of her mind, a voice screamed out in a fury, demanding blood. The thought crossed her mind that she could erase Hannah. Unravel her worse than Lucy.

It would be so easy.

“And I hate that. I hate that I did that to you, and I hate that I feel this way,” Hannah whispered, her own voice getting too croaky to speak clearly now. “I don’t blame you for hating me.”

They stood there, staring at each other, the weight of everything between them suffocating, raw, exposed. Tiffany’s mind was producing thought after thought of how to systematically destroy Hannah’s mind for her fucking audacity. She could extract all her fears and force her to suffer each one in an endless cycle of horror. She could impose her old anxiety back on her, but amplified beyond anything she could possibly cope with. She could do a Lucy and erase her completely, mimicking Ross’s wording to scramble the real memories under a million falsehoods…

And then, after what felt like forever, Tiffany let out her tense breath, and forced all the negative thoughts back into the darkest recesses of her mind where they belonged.

“I don’t hate you Hannah,” she said feebly. “But I… I do pity me. I’m living a lie, and not very well.”

Hannah exhaled. And she softened. Just a little. “This isn’t how I want things to be between us, Tiff,” she itted, her voice barely audible now.

Tiffany could barely see with the tears now filling up her eyes. Her voice came out as a hoarse croak. “Me neither.”

For a long time, neither of them moved.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, Hannah opened her arms.

Tiffany stared at her.

And then she stepped forward.

The hug was stiff. Awkward. Unpracticed.

Neither of them were the same girls they were before. They weren’t friends. But they weren’t enemies either.

Erin looked on, clutching her forearms in discomfort. Rose too watched as the silent embrace persisted for beyond a long moment, her face more a picture of curiosity than anything else.

“I finally found a therapist I feel comfortable with,” Hannah murmured over Tiffany’s shoulder.

Tiffany nodded awkwardly on Hannah’s shoulder before realising she wouldn’t see it. “Good. I’m glad. I still need to find one of those.”

“I’m not sharing mine,” Hannah said without missing a beat. “Find your own.”

Tiffany huffed an involuntary chuckle, which made Hannah do the same, and soon both of them were experiencing a compulsion of somewhat muted laughter.

“But I can’t afford it,” Hannah continued as she pulled away from Tiffany, causing her to laugh harder. “Like, I’m burning through my savings at this point.“

Tiffany couldn’t stop her laughter getting louder either. Both Erin and Rose watched with nervous confusion.

“I should just go through my parents, but—”

“But you won’t,” Tiffany finished knowingly.

Hannah let out another burst of laughter. “Of course not.”

“Because how can you explain…” Tiffany clutched her ribs.

“What the fuck happened to make me need it!” Hannah managed, herself in stitches now.

They laughed with each other, near manically for several more moments, before both of them seemed to sober up in sync. They stared at each other for another long moment, until Hannah snapped around to face Rose.

“I need a drink! You coming? Oh, and the pizza might be here by now,” Hannah said in the chirpy tone that Tiffany was more used to. “We still need to figure out what your favourite flavour is, don’t we?”

“Do you think they got pineapples this time?” Rose wondered aloud as Hannah led her from the room, not glancing back to look at Tiffany and Erin, who watched them leave before exchanging another glance. The music and lights from the party flooded back into the dark bedroom, beckoning them to re the throng.

“Well that was weird…” Tiffany remarked as she felt the pent up tension release from her shoulders.

“Right?!” Erin said, staring out into the dancefloor. “Nobody told me we were ordering pizzas.”

Tiffany looked at Erin about to correct her, but she saw Erin’s cheeky grin and instead chuckled. “Let’s go, beautiful.”

Tiffany and Erin skirted the edge of the dance floor, weaving through the pulsing crowd toward the kitchen island, which had been thoroughly overtaken by an obscene amount of pizza boxes. The scent of melted cheese and greasy dough filled the air, a stark contrast to the mix of sweat and alcohol from the rest of the party. Hannah and Rose were standing off to the side, Rose delicately picking pineapple off a slice while Hannah gestured animatedly, clearly mid-rant about something.

But Tiffany’s attention was drawn elsewhere.

There, standing by the counter in her familiar black-and-bright-red uniform, was Emelia.

The goth pizza girl still had the same effortlessly cool aura she’d exuded at the last party, her black lipstick standing out starkly against her pale skin. Her hair was now a shade of midnight with flakes of red and purple flickering through it like dancing flames, and Tiffany could swear there was an additional piercing over her left eyebrow to the multiple others on her face. Her dark, thick eyeliner gave her an almost sleepy, uninterested look, but the smirk on her lips told a different story. She had one hip cocked against the counter, her fishnet-clad arms folded as she leaned toward Josh, chatting casually.

Tiffany’s stomach twisted with something hot and inconvenient.

Emelia looked good. Too fucking good. Better than last time even.

Fuck.

That familiar smirk, the easy way she carried herself, the smooth, smoky way she spoke—it all pulled Tiffany in, just like before. And Tiffany knew for a fact that Emelia had no memory of all the awful shit that had happened. No memory of the way Ross had twisted her into his personal sex bot. No memory of how Tiffany had also used her as a pawn in her play for control, treating her as nothing more than a tool in her hour of desperation.

As far as Emelia was concerned, she had delivered pizzas that night, gone back to work, then came back later for the tail end of a fun party that was bizarrely hard to clearly. She maybe ed having a few drinks, some dancing . . . Hell, maybe she even made out with someone but was too drunk to who. A mystery for sure… Her real memories had been scrubbed and rearranged into something light and pleasant. And Tiffany had far too much on her plate at the time to grab her number.

But now… lo and behold…

“Mistress, you’re staring.” Erin’s voice was practically a purr in her ear, and Tiffany blinked, breaking her gaze.

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh, you totally were.” Erin grinned, her hands creeping onto Tiffany’s waist as she pulled her in close. “Do you smell that? Cheese, anchovies, and the distinct aroma of deja vu…”

Tiffany felt a flicker of irritation but refused to let Erin see it. “I wasn’t staring,” she repeated, voice flat. “I was just surprised she’s here.”

“Surprised to see the pizza girl when the pizza arrives?” Erin hummed, the teasing lilt in her voice enough to make Tiffany narrow her eyes. “Got’cha!”

“She doesn’t anything,” Tiffany said pointedly, as if that was reason enough to not be interested.

“Exactly!” Erin countered easily, tilting her head. “The goddess of lesbian loving has blessed upon us this divine gift of a second chance…”

Tiffany gave her a look. “Erin….”

“… to fuck that girl’s brains out.” Erin finished, beaming at Tiffany so eagerly that Tiffany had to bury her head behind her hands to stop Erin from seeing the involuntary smile forcing its way onto her lips.

“Please, Mistress!” Erin begged, wide puppy dog eyes waiting for when Tiffany peaked through her fingers. “Please! This is the perfect opportunity. She’s the perfect opportunity. She’s hot. She’s fun. She’s clearly vibing. And we are two incredibly sexy women who can offer her a mind-blowing night of debauchery. Like, what part of this doesn’t sound like a great idea?”

“The part where she almost became a robotic sex slave forever,” Tiffany deadpanned as she emerged from behind her hands.

Erin let out a dramatic groan. “Tiff, look around!” Erin frantically gestured everywhere. “There’s no crazy girl or gunslinging assholes coming to crash the party, the Algorithm is under lock and key. Nobody is using it. Not you. Not them.” Erin gestured to Josh this time. “Tonight is about fun! 100% organic, brainwash free fun! You deserve this… Fuck! We deserve this!”

Tiffany arched an eyebrow. “It’d really make you happy watching me hit on another woman?”

”Fucking yeah it would!” Erin grinned wickedly. “I think it would be so fucking hot to watch you seduce her, and I wanna help too. I wanna see you work your magic, and be your helpful tool. You don’t need the Algorithm for that.” She paused, then added with a smirk, “You never did.”

“You are…” Tiffany looked at Erin, shaking her head in exasperation.

“Incorrigible?” Erin offered with a grin.

”A devil on my shoulder…” Tiffany said, a coy smile forming on her lips. “I desperately need an angel to balance you out.”

“Perfecto!” Erin nearly laughed, “because there’s a goth angel right over there!”

Tiffany opened her mouth to argue, but the words were reluctant to leave her mouth.

Because fuck, Erin had a point.

And it wasn’t just about this.

It was about everything.

Before the Algorithm, Tiffany had been terrible at this kind of thing. She could be sarcastic, confident in most situations, but the second she had to flirt with someone she found attractive? She crumbled.

But now? Now she had the Algorithm. Or, more accurately, she knew she had it. That safety net had made her bold before. Had made her feel like she couldn’t fail, because failure wasn’t even an option.

Even though she did go on to fail.

Spectacularly.

Shit.

But standing here, right now, thinking about trying to do it without any backup, she felt that old anxiety creeping back up her spine.

But you know what?

Fuck that noise.

She wanted to own this moment. She wanted to prove she didn’t need the Algorithm to win someone over.

She wanted to-

“Fuck! Fuck! Erin what are you—“

Erin had seized on Tiffany’s moment of contemplation to spin her around and thrust her towards Emelia before she could react.

Josh noticed her first, his post-game energy still radiating off him. “Tiff! Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey Josh!” Tiffany managed, scrambling to catch her bearings. “Great game tonight!”

“Thanks!” Josh said, about to say something else but noticing that Tiffany’s attention was entirely on the pizza delivery girl.

Emelia turned to face her, and for the first time, Tiffany saw the glint of recognition in her dark-lined eyes. Not of what had happened, but of her.

“Oh, hey,” Emelia said, her smirk tilting. “You’re the hot one who flirted with me last time, right?”

Tiffany felt Erin vibrating with excitement behind her.

The burning Tiffany felt in her cheeks was not part of her plan. Neither was the dryness in her throat that was suddenly clawing like a stuck hamster.

In a split second however, there was a beer in her hand, courtesy of Erin, and she took a large swig before exhaling deeply, meeting Emelia’s gaze and smirking back.

“I mean…” she said with a very deliberate blink, “that was barely flirting. I’m up for giving it another try if you are.”

Josh, meanwhile, let out a pained groan, rubbing his face. “Jesus Christ. Not this again.”

“Hush, you.” Tiffany stuck out her tongue at Josh. She quickly looked back at Emelia, who was starting to blush herself, tempering her smile by gently biting her bottom lip. “Well, I guess you’ve had time to practise then. I’ll probably stand no chance…”

“Oh it’s on it’s on it’s fuckin’ on!” Erin whispered from behind Tiffany.

Ignoring Erin, Tiffany leaned against the counter next to Emelia, tilting her head. “I love what you’ve done with your hair. It’s… exquisite.”

Emelia’s smirk widened, her eyes flicking over Tiffany in quiet assessment. “Good,” she murmured. “I like being exquisite.”

Erin visibly suppressed a squeal of delight.

Josh, however, looked deeply unimpressed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, taking a swig of his beer. “I’m leaving before this turns into another one of those nights.”

Tiffany ignored him, holding Emelia’s gaze for a beat longer. She then extended a hand to beckon Erin closer.

“You Erin, right?” Tiffany said, wrapping her arm around Erin and pulling her close.

“Of course,” Emelia replied, meeting Erin’s eager grin with a soft chuckle. “I distinctly getting the impression that the two of you come as a package deal.”

“It’s a good deal,” Erin said playfully. “Trust me.”

“Erin, simmer down.” Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Be cool, she likes us… You need a drink.”

“That I do.” Erin bobbed away excitedly, stealing a glance back as she went.

Tiffany leaned against the counter, fingers idly tapping against her cup as both her and Emelia grabbed a slice of pizza, each attempting to play things casual and unreadable.

“So you got more deliveries to do tonight?” Tiffany asked as casually as she could.

“No, actually.” Emelia shrugged. “I was covering an earlier shift tonight, and ran over by a couple of hours. When I saw this order came in I figured it could be my last.”

“Lucky us.” Tiffany smiled slyly before taking another bite of pizza.

Erin quickly reappeared with a drink in one hand and pizza in the other, wearing the kind of slow, simmering grin that meant trouble.

Tiffany felt it, too. The slow, curling tension wrapping around the three of them like smoke, thick and heavy and intoxicating.

“Speaking of hair, you two look wildly different from the last time I saw you,” Emelia remarked, tearing off a bite of pizza. Her gaze flicked between them, sharp and knowing. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Tiffany smirked, running a hand through her short pixie cut. “Yeah, well. Truth or dare at that last party got a little out of hand.”

Emelia quirked an eyebrow. “Shit! That bad, huh?”

“Oh, you should have seen it,” Erin cut in, grinning wickedly. “Cut it off herself, right here, in front of everyone.”

Emelia’s brows shot up. “Holy fuck. That’s hardcore. If anyone tried to touch my hair I’d go for their throat. Dares be damned.”

Tiffany shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t back down from the right challenge.” She caught Emelia’s gaze and stared at her with intention, just long enough to have reasonable certainty of conveying her meaning. She wasn’t sure Emelia would get it, of course.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I love your new hair.” Emelia ran a hand through her own hair as she looked at Tiffany’s. “It’s hot.”

“Thanks.” Tiffany looked down at her beer for a moment, before raising her eyes back up to meet Emelia’s once more. “The whole thing encouraged me to try a new look.”

“Well, it’s working for you.” Emelia nodded in approval.

“That’s one way to put it,” Erin said, nudging Tiffany’s hip with her own. She turned to Emelia, gaze flicking between her and Tiffany with lazy amusement. “And me? This whole look? The hair, the skirts, the… style?” She twirled a lock of her longer hair for emphasis. “Let’s just say Tiff has preferences.”

Emelia’s gaze flicked down to the latex top hugging Erin’s body, the short silver skirt that clung to her hips. A small smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“So she what, decides what you wear?”

‘Too strong… Dammit Erin…’ Tiffany thought. There wasn’t any real need to lean into a controlling angle here, the aim was seduction, not domination… But Erin had said what she said, so Tiffany decided to lean into it. She turned fully toward Emelia, letting her expression shift just enough. Just enough for the glint in her eye to sharpen, for something heavier to seep into her voice.

“Do you want me to keep things cryptic and flirty?” A playful smirk. “Or do you want the truth?”

The unfiltered version. The one people never asked for but always ached to hear. Tiffany felt like she was taking a shot in the dark, but she was doing so with confidence at least… And this way she could gauge how directly Emelia wanted to dance around the chemistry between them.

Emelia held her gaze, her smirk deepening slightly, like she was deciding whether to play along.

Her fingers tapped against the counter. Her eyes darted to Erin, as if searching for confirmation. But Erin, to her credit, didn’t help. She simply leaned back against Tiffany, lazy, loose-limbed, giving Emelia a look that said, Go on. Ask.

“Truth,” she murmured, her voice just as slow and deliberate as Tiffany’s had been.

“Well, Emelia,” Tiffany murmured, reaching out to brush a stray crumb from Emelia’s uniform, her touch just barely lingering. “The truth is, I don’t just decide. I control.”

She felt Erin shudder beside her, felt the weight of those words coil around them like silk.

Emelia, for all her previous confidence, went still.

Tiffany smiled slowly. It felt like too much, too soon, but really, she could afford to be bold. She always had the Algorithm to fall back on if she really wanted. And that in itself fed into her chosen words. “I’m a selfish, manipulative, controlling bitch.” She let the words land, let them settle, before adding, “I like wrapping people around my fingers. It’s fun. It’s addictive.”

A pause. A heartbeat. A nervous voice in Tiffany’s mind told her that it had come off as creepy, not enticing.

Then—Emelia exhaled softly, fingers tightening around her pizza slice like she’d only just realized she was still holding it.

Her throat bobbed with a swallow. “You, uh… do know that saying shit like that risks scaring people off, right?”

Tiffany tilted her head, considering her. She hadn’t actually turned and fled. Huh.

Then she leaned in, dropping her voice to a slow, velvety murmur.

“If they scare that easily, I don’t want them.”

“Jesus, Tiff. You say that like you expect me to run.”

Tiffany’s smirk stayed fixed in place. “I do.”

Emelia exhaled, tapping her fingers against the counter like she was weighing something. She glanced toward Erin, as if for some kind of answer. Erin, of course, just grinned and sipped her drink.

“So what happens if I don’t?” Emelia asked finally, her voice laced with curiosity.

“You get to feel what it’s like to be caught in my web, and play my game.”

Emelia chuckled nervously, shifting in place but captured in Tiffany’s gaze. “Fuck, Tiff, that’s… That’s…”

Tiffany let the smirk widen, her fingers ghosting over Emelia’s wrist, light as a whisper.

“Dangerous.” The words came soft and slow, deliberate. “I know it is. I play with people. Not always in a way they understand. I enjoy it. And once I start playing, if I like it, I’m very reluctant to let the game end.”

Her grip tightened just slightly. Not enough to hold Emelia in place. But enough for her to feel it.

“My deal is that I’m very good at making people want to be wrapped around my fingers.”

A slow inhale. A slow exhale.

Emelia didn’t pull away.

Instead, she let out a quiet, almost breathless laugh. “Well, fuck. That’s… more than I expected, to be honest.”

Tiffany grinned. “You’re still standing here.” She trailed her fingers away from Emelia’s wrist, watching her shiver. “I got the distinct impression you’re not afraid of a little danger.”

Emelia’s smirk faltered—just slightly.

She opened her mouth to respond, but Tiffany didn’t let her.

She took a step back, dragging Erin with her, fingers lacing together with hers as she tilted her head toward the dance floor.

“You coming?”

Emelia hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then—she was following them.

The music was electric, the bass thrumming through Tiffany’s ribcage as they moved through the crowd. The air was thick with heat and motion, bodies swaying together under pulsing lights.

Tiffany knew Emelia was still behind her. She could feel her presence, hovering at the edge of something that wasn’t quite uncertainty, wasn’t quite recklessness.

By the time they reached the dance floor, Tiffany pulled Erin in close, hands sliding over her waist. Erin melted against her instantly, molding to her movements like she belonged there.

Which, of course, she did.

And then Emelia stepped in.

Not hesitant. Not slow.

Decisive.

She reached out, hands smoothing over Tiffany’s sides, fingers pressing just enough to feel, to test.

Tiffany’s smirk curled.

“Hi,” she murmured, leaning in just enough that her lips barely brushed against Emelia’s ear. “I knew you wanted to play.”

A sharp exhale.

Then Emelia’s lips ghosted over Tiffany’s jawline—soft, fleeting, but undeniably there.

Erin let out a slow, delighted chuckle, pressing against Tiffany from behind, locking her in place.

Tiffany tilted her head back slightly, giving Emelia just enough of an invitation.

Emelia took it.

Her lips brushed against Tiffany’s neck, soft at first, testing, before sinking into something deeper, her teeth just barely scraping against sensitive skin.

Tiffany groaned.

Erin, of course, took that as her cue and immediately surged up, capturing Tiffany’s lips in a searing kiss.

Tiffany drowned in it, lost in the sensation of both of them pressing against her, of hands and mouths and heat.

The three of them swayed together, tangled in the heat, in the pulse of the music, in the promise of something that hadn’t fully formed yet but was aching to be explored.

Tiffany could have them both.

Erin was hers already, and she didn’t need the Algorithm to pull Emelia under.

But the temptation—the idea of it—was like a low, intoxicating whisper in the back of her mind.

Because if she did use it…

She wouldn’t just have Emelia.

She’d own her.

The evening unraveled in a tapestry of rhythm and heat, each moment drawing Emelia deeper into the web Tiffany was so effortlessly spinning around her. It started with the way Tiffany danced. She commanded the space around her. Every step, every sway, every teasing roll of her hips was deliberate, seductive, enticing. She didn’t chase Emelia, she let Emilia chase her, each move and countermove a dance in more ways than one.

And Erin? Erin was a force of pure, kinetic energy, her laughter bright and sharp, but always following Tiffany’s lead, and consistently showing Emelia her affection. She made sure to pull Emelia in, giving her approving little nudges, playful winks, whispering flirty encouragements into her ear like a lustful devil perched on her shoulder.

They danced through several songs like that, bodies brushing, fingers grazing. Tiffany’s teasing, knowing glances kept Emelia on the edge of something intoxicating.

Soon they found themselves taking a breather, pizzas and drinks once more in hand. Tiffany ensured Erin made things appear exactly when they were needed.

Tiffany and Emelia sat side by side on the sofa that had been shuffled out of the dance floor, while Erin sat crossed legged on the floor before them, leaning up against Tiffany’s legs.

Tiffany leaned against the armrest at one point, watching Emelia sip her drink with the kind of quiet, assessing confidence that only came with knowing the end result was inevitable.

“You’re different than I expected,” Emelia mused, setting her drink down, her gaze drifting over Tiffany and Erin with a calculating edge.

Tiffany tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “Oh?”

Emelia smirked slightly, swirling the ice in her glass. “You look like you’d be the jealous type. Like, the kind of girl who keeps her girlfriend under lock and key.”

Erin burst into laughter at that, wrapping an arm around Tiffany’s legs. “Oh, babe, if only you knew.”

Tiffany’s smirk deepened, and she ran a slow hand over Erin’s hair, enjoying the way Erin vibrated in contentment. “I don’t mind sharing…” she murmured, her fingers curling possessively around one of Erin’s pigtails, tugging slightly to pull Erin’s head back. “…as long as I get to decide who and how.”

Emelia’s lips parted slightly, an unreadable expression flickering across her face. “Interesting...”

Tiffany simply sipped her drink, watching her, waiting.

Emelia leaned back against the sofa, seemingly weighing something in her mind before exhaling. “My boyfriend and I—”

Erin perked up, intrigued. “Boyfriend? No offense, but you don’t exactly scream ‘taken.’”

Emelia grinned. “We’re open. We do our own thing, and we don’t ask questions. No attachments, no drama. We just… do what we do and don’t talk about it.”

Tiffany’s fingers drummed lightly against her glass. Fascinating.

She knew immediately that she could never operate like that. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t let Erin sleep with others—it was that she had to be the one in control. Erin’s pleasure, her choices, even her temptations—those were Tiffany’s to dictate, not some faceless variable left to chance. Free will is such a dangerous, fragile thing, after all.

“And that works for you?” Tiffany asked, watching Emelia’s reaction carefully.

Emelia shrugged, sipping her drink. “It’s freedom. And I like freedom.”

Tiffany smiled, slow and knowing. ‘Oh, sweetheart… you think you do.’

They continued like that, dancing in and out of flirtations, conversations growing looser with every drink, every touch, every shared glance. Erin, despite her best efforts to keep herself composed, was getting desperately horny—Tiffany could tell by the way she clung a little too tightly, the way her voice had taken on that slightly breathy edge, the way her eyes darkened whenever Tiffany dropped just a little too much of the truth about their dynamic into the conversation.

Like when Emelia asked, “So… Erin just does whatever you want?”

And Tiffany, without missing a beat, replied, “Oh, she’s completely broken in.”

She said it so casually, so offhandedly, that Emelia barely had time to the weight of it before Tiffany moved on, changing the subject, letting the words linger just long enough to spark curiosity—not enough to scare her away.

Erin, meanwhile, bit her lip so hard it looked like she might draw blood.

The party thrummed around them, until most of the basketball team and cheerleaders left to hit some clubs. With the numbers reduced, the dance floor started winding down, but it didn’t take long before someone started something a little more dangerous.

Spin the Bottle.

The game had already filled up by the time Tiffany noticed Hannah perched on the floor near the spare room, her legs crossed and an empty beer bottle rolling between her palms.

“It needs to be real,” Hannah was saying, smirking at the small gathering of players. “None of that lame-ass peck on the lips bullshit. You spin, you land, you make out, no matter who it is.”

A few cheers went up, a couple of groans, but no one was leaving.

Tiffany’s eyes met with Alice’s, then Trev’s, then Josh’s, each of them betraying their unique flavour of apprehension. The last time they had played spin the bottle together had been… memorable, to say the least.

Tiffany watched with mild amusement as the players settled in—a decent number of them, at that. Rose was there, sitting beside Hannah, looking half intrigued, half unsure. Libby and Izzy had sat next to each other, grinning wickedly, clearly eager for the chaos. Mike sat on Izzy’s other side, hand resting on her thigh, while Josh sat next to him. Bobby, Alice, Trev, and Marion rounded out the circle, some looking excited, some clearly deliberating whether they had made a terrible mistake.

Tiffany exchanged a glance with Erin, who seemed far more enthusiastic than their closest friends. Of course, it could be argued that Erin won that game; she got everything she wanted in the end.

Tiffany then looked to Emelia, who raised a single brow.

They shared a smirk.

Knowing she wasn’t getting out of this, and curious to where it might lead, Tiffany gestured to the open space. “Shall we?”

Erin practically dragged her down onto the floor, positioning herself on Tiffany’s left, Emelia settling in on her right.

Tiffany let out a slow, satisfied breath.

This was actually going to be pretty fun.

And unlike the last spin the bottom game, it wasn’t going to result in her kneeling naked on the floor, stuffing her soaking wet panties into her mouth in utter obedience and humiliation.

Probably…

Hannah was the first to spin, her emerald eyes glinting with mischief as the bottle wobbled erratically before landing squarely on Libby.

A ripple of laughter ran through the circle. Libby raised her brows, giggling. “Well, well, Hanny,” she teased. “Didn’t think you swung this way.”

“I don’t,” Hannah said smoothly, leaning in. “But I’m committed to the bit.”

The kiss was clumsy, riddled with giggles, but the spectacle was enough to earn cheers and wolf-whistles from the group. It set the tone, this wasn’t a game of whispered regrets and pointless hesitations. This was for fun, and for entertainment.

The game moved clockwise.

Mike and Izzy, the freshly minted couple, couldn’t quite decide if they were thrilled or annoyed. When Izzy had to kiss Bobby, Mike crossed his arms with a mock scowl, but when Mike’s spin landed on Alice, Izzy dramatically rolled her eyes and muttered something about promising to make Mike pay for it.

Josh and Bobby, ever aware of their teammates’ presence, played it cool. Josh’s spin landed on Marion, leaving her with a giddy smile that wouldn’t leave her face.

Bobby’s turn had him kissing Erin, and he performed with the casual confidence of someone who had done this a hundred times before. Erin, for her part, was fiery and forward, and the watching crowd approved. It was well played by both of them, Tiffany thought.

“You’re not jealous at all, are you?” Emelia whispered into her ear, a mixture of amusement and iration.

“I don’t need to be,” Tiffany whispered back with a coy smile. “We both know who she belongs to.”

Tiffany enjoyed Emelia’s subtle reaction, a slightly sharper inhale, a brief dilution of her pupils. Tiffany turned away to let Emelia simmer, just in time to see Bobby and Erin pull away from each other, to much cheer and approval from the circle.

As Erin nestled back in next to Tiffany, it was her turn to lean in and whisper. “Josh picked well, Mistress… His tongue was fucking tasty.”

Tiffany giggled, drawing a curious look from Josh and Bobby alike.

Alice and Trev, on the other hand, seemingly had no jealousy whatsoever. When Alice landed on Izzy, she kissed her with an exaggerated enthusiasm before turning back to Trev and saying, “Your turn, babe. Try to top that.”

Trev’s spin landed on Emelia, who smirked at him. “You sure you can handle me, pretty boy?”

Trev laughed. “Not at all.”

They made out briefly, the enthusiasm more comical than serious, before parting with exaggerated gasps, much to the delight of the group.

Then came Emelia’s turn.

Her bottle landed on Izzy, and suddenly there was nothing playful about the atmosphere. Both women leaned in, their movements slow and deliberate, each daring the other to be the first to break.

When they kissed, it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was fierce, aggressive—dominant. Neither willing to back down, neither letting the other take control. When they finally parted, a few people clapped. Others just stared.

Tiffany took a slow sip of her drink, watching Emelia lick her lips as she settled back into place.

A moment later, she felt the warmth of Emelia’s breath against her ear.

“Don’t let it go to your head, but I can’t help but feel like you’re going to be a better kisser,” Emelia murmured.

The words sent a spark through Tiffany’s body, curling her lips into a knowing smirk. Like she needed to be told.

Then it was her turn.

Tiffany spun the bottle, watching it twirl with an almost hypnotic grace. When it finally stopped, the room collectively tensed.

Alice.

There was a moment where nothing happened.

Tiffany met Alice’s gaze, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing. ’Put on a show for me.’

It was strange to think about, that the day the Algorithm was discovered was the day she and Alice first kissed, and Tiffany got a taste of the power she had now claimed. It had been chicken noises, sultry dancing, and naive mind games. They had no idea what they had discovered, what Pandora’s box they were opening.

And now, they were back here, in a silly game. It was just a kiss. Nothing was at stake…

…so why did it still feel so important?

”Just like old times, huh, Tiff?” Alice said playfully, masking her nerves. She swallowed, her eyes flickering with something Tiffany had once wished for with all her heart. Then she leaned in.

The moment their lips touched, the entire world melted away.

It was different from before. There was no sense of urgency, no stripper programming to undo. Neither of them were programmed or brainwashed to act a certain way. The only compulsion was that the bottle had demanded it. It was just them. And yet, as their mouths moved together, the kiss deepened—slowly at first, then with something heavier, something neither of them were prepared for.

Alice’s fingers brushed against Tiffany’s jaw, and Tiffany’s hand instinctively gripped Alice’s waist, pulling her just slightly closer.

In the background, someone let out a low whistle.

When they finally parted, both of them lingered, just for a second, before pulling away entirely.

Alice blinked rapidly, looking slightly dazed.

Tiffany exhaled through her nose, fighting the small smirk threatening to pull at her lips.

But then they both giggled, red cheeked and to a chorus of approval all around.

Erin’s breath was suddenly hot against her ear.

“That was so fucking hot, Mistress. Was it as good as my stripper gift to you?”

Tiffany gave Erin a knowing look. Erin grinned uncontrollably.

Tiffany barely turned her head before she noticed something else.

Emelia.

She looked… jealous. Huh.

The realization sent a slow, delicious wave of satisfaction through Tiffany’s veins.

Good.

More spins happened as the play went around the circle once more—some tame, some scandalous, all entertaining. Hannah kissed Josh. Rose kissed Marion. But Tiffany found her mind elsewhere, turning the moment with Alice over in her head, feeling Erin’s fingers on her thigh, watching Emelia shift ever so slightly closer to her. Even when it was her turn again and the bottle landed on Libby, Tiffany’s mind didn’t engage with it. She leaned into it sure, and Libby was a nice enough kisser, but there was no chemistry there, and it showed.

Tiffany couldn’t shake the feeling of Alice’s lips on hers, and it made her question everything. If she had stuck to her original plans for the Algorithm, and brainwashed Alice into her perfect lover, would it have felt as good as that just did? She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she barely noticed Erin making out with Hannah. Everyone else seemed totally captivated by it, and she only caught the tail end when Emelia poked her in the ribs.

“Come on… Tell me that doesn’t make you jealous!” she whispered feverishly. Tiffany looked sharply to see Hannah practically dominating Erin. The way she had positioned herself over her, the way her hands were entangled in Erin’s hair, giving her complete control of Erin’s head positioning, the way she leaned so far in that she was the only thing keeping Erin from falling backwards. It was fascinating to see, as Tiffany recognised her own tendencies. Erin was off balance, her hands gripping Hannah’s waist more to herself than with any intention, all the while melting into the kiss.

“Jealous of Erin, maybe,” Tiffany muttered under her breath. She couldn’t deny that the way Hannah commanded the interaction looked like a delicious experience.

“Huh?” Emelia leaned closer to hear.

But of course, she couldn’t let Emelia see her waver. “Best I can do is turned on,” she whispered into Emelia’s ear.

Hannah pulled away suddenly, startling Erin and causing her to jerkily regain her balance, her cheeks flushed red.

“Mmm, you taste good…” Hannah mused as she ran her fingers over her lips. “Cherry?”

“Ye-yeah.” Erin nodded, trying to catch her bearings, managing to find herself and remark, “Shit, red, who taught you how to kiss like that?”

Hannah didn’t reply, she just tempered her smug delight as she sat back down, her eyes skimming over the other players to gauge their reactions. She very deliberately paused on Tiffany, her green eyes bright with what Tiffany interpreted as playful triumph. Like it was a small victory against her.

Tiffany met Hannah’s gaze with a sly smile of her own. ’So that’s how she wants to play…’

Tiffany leaned into Erin’s ear. “Having fun?”

Erin jolted slightly, turning to face Tiffany, the fluster still apparent on her. “Fuck me, Mistress, she took me off guard there.”

“Evidently,” Tiffany teased, heightening Erin’s embarrassment.

Then the game came full circle again. Rose was the last player to spin. She spun the bottle with a deft flick of her wrist, leaning in to watch as it spun dramatically, hypnotically. Every gaze in the room followed its lazy rotation, anticipation humming in the air as it finally slowed.

And when it stopped—

It landed on Trev.

“Shiiiiiiiiiit…” Erin hissed under her breath. “Dis gonna be good…”

The mood in the circle shifted.

Subtly, but unmistakably. Those that knew were the ones to tense, and those that didn’t picked up on it from the others.

Tiffany immediately caught the way Alice stiffened, her hands pressing flat against her thighs. Trev’s entire body went taut, his easy, laid-back demeanor faltering for just a fraction of a second.

And Rose…

Rose simply blinked.

Not in shock, or horror, or discomfort. Just… a slow, contemplative blink, like her mind was processing this moment on a deeper level than anyone else.

For several beats, no one spoke.

Then, Hannah leaned forward, her tone infuriatingly casual. “What’s wrong, guys? No one else backed out.”

Her words hit like a slap, only increasing the tension.

This entire game had been built on the rule of commitment—no awkward ducking, no hesitations, no avoiding a kiss just because it wasn’t what you expected. And yet, here they were. Trev and Alice, frozen, their reactions screaming discomfort.

Hannah leaned back, crossing her arms. “It’d be kinda unfair if you backed out now.”

Tiffany could see the conflict flash in Alice’s eyes. It wasn’t that she wanted to stop Trev, not really. She knew this was a game, knew that everyone else had done the same thing. But this was Rose.

Rose, who wasn’t Lucy, but who still looked exactly like her.

And Trev…

Trev was struggling. He hadn’t looked at Rose once the entire night, and now he had no choice. Well, not true, he had a dilemma. If Tiffany didn’t know better, she would have thought Hannah had planned this.

Trev cleared his throat, shifting slightly where he sat, looking to Alice for guidance but getting only a tight lipped stare from her. Making his choice, he forced a weak chuckle. “Well, uh… a rule’s a rule, I guess.”

Rose’s head tilted slightly, studying Trev with those sharp, unreadable eyes. And then, without a moment’s hesitation, she leaned in.

Trev followed.

The moment their lips touched, the air changed.

It wasn’t like the other kisses.

It wasn’t playful, or teasing, or rushed. It wasn’t performed for the crowd, it wasn’t fueled by drinks or bravado.

It was instinctual.

And that was what made it so captivating for Tiffany and no doubt everyone else.

Because the way Rose kissed Trev?

It was exactly the way Lucy used to.

Her lips moved with the same rhythm, her hands naturally finding their way to his jaw, her body shifting forward with a familiarity she shouldn’t even have.

Trev’s reaction was instant.

His entire body jerked, like an electric current had run straight through him. His fingers twitched against the floor, his muscles locking up as something raw, something instinctual, something deeply ingrained in him reacted.

The kiss lasted all of three seconds. But that was enough.

They pulled apart, and Trev’s voice slipped out—

“…Lucy?”

The name barely ed his lips.

But everyone heard it.

And they tensed, hard.

Tiffany’s stomach twisted.

Alice’s face drained of color. Tiffany saw her fingers curl into the fabric of her skirt, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping her steady. Trev, looking horrified with himself, immediately looked away, running a hand through his hair like he could shake the moment off.

Fuck…

It wasn’t just the name. It was the way Trev said it. Like his brain had short-circuited, like a deeply embedded trigger had fired off before he could stop it. Like the past was still alive and breathing in Rose’s lips.

Rose clearly felt it too. She blushed in a way nobody had seen before.

A small, pink stain of heat rose to her cheeks, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking uncharacteristically flustered.

“…That was nice,” she itted, her tone almost reverent. “It felt… familiar.”

Silence.

A long, stretching silence.

Then, suddenly, Hannah started clapping.

“Wooooo!” she hollered, grinning way too wide. “Go, Rose! See? That wasn’t so bad!”

The spell shattered.

The tension splintered under the weight of Hannah’s enthusiasm, and almost as if taking a cue, a few others chuckled nervously, brushing off the moment.

But the damage was done.

Alice and Trev shared a brief, whispered exchange before quietly excusing themselves from the next round, Alice’s hand gripping Trev’s arm a little too tightly as they walked away.

Tiffany, watching it all unfold, took a slow sip of her drink, her mind processing the full implications of what had just happened.

She watched as Alice and Trev slipped into Josh’s bedroom, the air seemingly tense between them.

Hannah leaned forward, a wicked glint in her eye. “Alright, folks,” she announced, her voice brimming with mischief. “That was fun and all, and I’m proud nobody backed out, but I think it’s time we really spice things up.”

A ripple of intrigued murmurs ran through the group.

“What do you mean?” Marion asked hesitantly, “Wasn’t all that… uh… spicy enough?”

“I mean,” Hannah grinned, “this next round isn’t for the faint of heart. If you’re in, you’re committing. No more half hearted efforts, no more giggling through it. We’re talking full make-out sessions! Deep, lingering, no backing out once the spin lands.” She let that sink in before adding, with a devilish smirk, “Plus, there’s gotta be some hands involved. Like, properly involved.”

A collective stir rippled through the group.

Libby let out a short laugh, raising her hands. “Yeah, I’m tapping out. I’m good.”

Bobby was already standing. “Same. Quit while you’re ahead, people…”

Josh gave Hannah an incredulous look. “Couldn’t we play ring of fire instead?” he muttered, before catching a glare from Hannah, sighing dramatically and standing up. “Fine! I’m out too.”

Their exits drew some teasing, a few playful boos, but they weren’t alone in their hesitations. Although Erin heartily proposed that they follow up with Josh’s suggestion just as soon as they were done here.

Marion looked deeply uncertain. “Um… okay, but just to be clear,” she said slowly, “I’m straight. Like, fully straight.”

Hannah waved her off. “So am I. It’s just a game. It’s fun! You can handle a little fun, can’t you, Mar?”

Marion grimaced, before taking a large swig from her beer. “Sure, Han, fuck it. I’m in. Fun.”

Meanwhile, Tiffany had stayed perfectly still, simply watching.

Erin noticed immediately, flashing her a knowing grin. “You’re staying in?” she murmured, just loud enough for Tiffany to hear.

Tiffany smirked. “Wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t.”

Erin’s grin widened. “Fuck yeah.”

Emelia, catching the exchange, glanced between the two of them before smirking to herself. “Guess that means I’m in too.”

Hannah beamed. “Yay! That’s the spirit!”

Izzy let out a sigh, shaking her head, but made no effort to move.

Mike had been casually sipping his drink through the entire escalation. He set his bottle down, grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he said, sweeping his gaze over the remaining circle, now consisting of him and all girls, “but I’d like to personally thank each and every one of you for this deeply important moment in my life.”

Laughter rippled through the group, even Marion cracking a small, exasperated smile. Izzy punched him on the shoulder, scolding him to behave himself, but it seemed to be at least partially in jest.

“Alright,” Hannah said, rubbing her hands together, clearly content with the number of remaining players. “Let’s go in reverse this time, so Rose goes first.”

Rose blinked. “Oh. Okay.”

She reached forward, took the bottle between her fingers, and gave it a firm spin once more.

The bottle spun with a slow, deliberate rhythm, clinking softly against the hardwood floor. The tension in the circle was palpable. Rose had just kissed Trev, sending ripples of unease through the group. Now, with Hannah’s escalation of the game, everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see who would be next.

The bottle slowed… and stopped.

Izzy.

There was a beat of silence, and then Izzy chuckled. “I wonder if you’ll scare me off like you did prettyboy. You ready, Rosie Ro?”

Rose’s head tilted ever so slightly, that familiar curious glint in her eye. She studied Izzy the way a scientist might examine an unfamiliar subject. Then, she nodded once. “Yes.”

“Go easy, Iz,” Erin said jokingly, with only a little undercurrent of sincerity.

Izzy chuckled again. “Don’t worry, this is gonna be good.”

She sat up properly, rolling her shoulders back, and gave Rose a look that was both teasing and challenging. Rose, meanwhile, shifted forward, her movements smooth and precise, like she was following an instruction manual that only she could see.

And then—Rose kissed her.

It was softer than anyone expected.

Deliberate. Patient. Rose didn’t lunge, didn’t go in aggressively the way Izzy had with Emelia earlier. Instead, she pressed their lips together with an almost delicate kind of reverence, like she was trying to understand the sensation.

Izzy, who had been expecting something eager or awkward, was caught completely off guard.

Her body stiffened for half a second before she adjusted, lips parting slightly in invitation. That was when Rose deepened the kiss. Not in a reckless way, but with a calculated kind of curiosity.

And then, slowly, Rose’s hands came up.

One settled lightly on Izzy’s cheek, her thumb brushing against the edge of her jaw. The other skimmed over Izzy’s arm, tracing lightly over the fishnet covering her skin, her fingers pressing just enough to feel the tension there.

It was controlled. Intentional. Like Rose had done this ample times before.

Izzy let out a tiny sound against Rose’s lips before she could stop herself. A sound that wasn’t amusement or sarcasm or bravado.

It was surprise.

And Rose noticed.

She lingered for just a second longer, her fingers tightening almost imperceptibly. Then, just as smoothly as she had started, she pulled away.

Izzy blinked.

Rose blinked back.

“That…” Izzy exhaled, her voice slightly hoarse. “That was… huh.”

Rose tilted her head. “Did I do it right?”

A laugh burst out of Erin, and the whole circle cracked up at once, the tension shattering into something lighter.

Izzy, meanwhile, was still staring at Rose with a slightly fascinated expression before she genuinely nodded. “Yeah, sweetie. You, uh… you did good.”

Rose simply smiled, looking relieved and pleased. “Good.”

Tiffany, watching the exchange, couldn’t stop herself from smirking. Izzy was a big softy when the conditions seemed right, clearly.

Erin, still chuckling over Izzy’s reaction, reached for the bottle with barely contained excitement, the energy of someone who loved this game, who lived for the chaos.

And landed on, after an agonizing final rotation, Marion.

The group erupted in excitement.

“Oh, shit,” Izzy cackled, clapping a hand over her mouth. “The roomies are about to kiss. This is so fucking good!”

Tiffany, sipping her drink with a smirk, nodded approvingly. “Careful, Erin. If you mess this up, you’ll need to find somewhere else to live...”

Marion, to her credit, did not flinch.

She simply raised a single brow, tilting her head as she studied Erin like she had just been handed a challenge.

“Huh,” she mused, tapping her fingers against her knee. “Yeah, there’s no way this’ll be awkward later.”

Erin grinned wildly. “I’m game if you are, babe.”

Marion exhaled slowly, shaking her head with something that was not exasperation, but something close. “You are so full of yourself...”

Erin winked. “Uh, yeah, it’s like my best feature…”

The group was loving it.

Bobby whistled from the nearby sofa . “Roommate tension. Sexy.”

Josh groaned from next to him, covering his face. “After tonight I’m changing my locks.”

Hannah, still grinning from Tiffany’s predicament, grinned even wider. “No bailing now, Mar. Gotta commit.”

Marion huffed a laugh, before making her move.

Erin had clearly been expecting to take control, to set the pace, but Marion surprised her.

She leaned in slowly, but her movements were deliberate, calculated.

When their lips met, it was not the playful, reckless energy Erin was trying to assert.

It was controlled. Measured. Marion’s lips moved slowly, teasingly, like she was pulling Erin in without effort.

Erin, who was always the one to push things forward, suddenly found herself chasing. Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Marion tilted her head, deepening the kiss in a way that was neither aggressive nor submissive. It was like she was deciding exactly how much to give, and when.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t fall into Erin’s rhythm.

She made Erin fall into hers. And it was obvious to everyone watching that Erin wasn’t prepared for that.

Erin let out a small, involuntary noise against Marion’s lips, something like surprise mixed with reluctant iration.

And then, just as Erin started to lean in more, just as she tried to take control, Marion pulled back.

It was smooth. It looked effortless. Like she had never intended to give Erin anything more than exactly what she wanted to.

The spectators went wild.

“Oh shit,” Mike hooted.

“Damn, girl,” Libby commented from across the room.

Marion wiped the corner of her mouth with a casual air. “You’re right, Hannah. That was fun!”

Erin, visibly rattled, stared at her. “You—” She let out a flustered breath, blinking rapidly. “What the fuck was that?”

Marion gave her a lazy, satisfied smile. “You wanted to take charge. I wanted to see what happened if I didn’t let you.”

Tiffany laughed loudly, throwing her head back. “Oh, Erin, honey. You just got outplayed.”

Erin was still processing, but she couldn’t help but grin.

“…Damn,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I seriously underestimated you.”

Marion simply shrugged. “Most people do.”

Tiffany smirked at Erin. “You need a minute, don’t you?”

“I need a lot of minutes.” Erin buried her head in her hands.

Emelia, who had been watching with mild amusement, nudged Erin’s knee. “Humbled, huh?”

“Shut up,” Erin muttered, laughing as she rubbed her face.

Marion, perfectly composed, reached for her drink and took a sip.

Then, she looked at Erin.

And winked.

Erin short-circuited.

The group was in hysterics.

Tiffany was exceptionally entertained. Because Erin, her chaotic, unshakable, over-the-top Erin, had just met an unlikely match in Marion’s quiet, unassuming composure. It wasn’t like Hannah’s deliberate show of dominance, it was more holding her own ground. And for Erin, who was used to things being a dance of dominance and submission, Marion’s energy completely flummoxed her.

And that was glorious.

Tiffany, sitting back and watching it all unfold, was completely in her element. The energy in the game was delicious.

And it was her turn next.

The bottle spun, whirling around faster than the last few, everyone watching as it gradually slowed…

… and landed on Mike.

There was a moment of silence. Tiffany then arched an eyebrow and let out a mock sigh of exasperation. “Oh no. A boy.”

Before anyone else could react, Izzy let out a sharp, stinging remark. “You’re one to talk, you look like more of a dude than he does!”

The entire group stiffened at this remark. Tiffany, however, didn’t react. She didn’t acknowledge the words. Didn’t let them sink in. Didn’t give Izzy the satisfaction of a hostile reaction.

“Hey…” Emelia started to say, but Tiffany held up a hand to reassure her it was okay,

Still ignoring Izzy, she gave Mike a lazy, amused look. “Don’t worry Mike, I still kiss like a girl…”

Mike, clearly picking up on the shift in mood, tried to play it off as he leaned toward her. “I’m really hoping you don’t say the same thing about me after this...”

More laughter around the circle. The tension started to fade, Izzy’s comment left unanswered.

Tiffany smirked. “Only one way to find out.” In a slow, deliberate motion, she got to her feet, standing in the middle of the circle and beckoned him to do the same.

Before he was fully upright, she grabbed him by his shirt, pulled him to her, and kissed him.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a performance. Tiffany didn’t just lean in, she took control.

Her fingers threaded into Mike’s hair, her mouth devouring his with slow, calculated confidence. Mike, to his credit, responded, matching her intensity, his hands pressing against her waist as the kiss deepened.

The room was silent.

Completely still.

Then Tiffany’s hand cupped Mike’s knee before slowly running up the inside of his thigh.

Izzy snapped.

“Get off him you fucking bitch!” she spat, her voice cutting through the air like a blade she leapt to her feet. She grabbed Mike, pulling him away and then swung at Tiffany.

But Tiffany was too fast, dodging as if she was expecting it, ducking beneath Izzy’s slap and then bringing her hands up to protect her face.

The outcry against Izzy was sudden and unanimous. Mike grabbed her and pulled her away from Tiffany while Hannah, Marion, and Erin all shouted protests that overlapped each other into an incoherent mess.

Erin was on her feet next, then Hannah, then Emelia. The entire circle threatened to erupt into chaos, while Josh, Libby, and other bystanders were now focused on the drama. Alice and Trev emerged from Josh’s bedroom, confusion and concern etched on their faces.

Tiffany was on her toes like a seasoned boxer, ready to dodge or swing with a balance that showed she wasn’t about to be sucker punched.

“You’re using it, aren’t you?” Izzy seethed, her hands balled into fists even as Mike restrained her. “The Algorithm. You’re still fucking using it. I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

Hannah immediately raised her hands. “Izzy, calm down—”

“No! Fuck that!” Izzy shot back. She turned sharply toward Tiffany, eyes burning with accusation. “It’s so fucking obvious! Look at Mike! Look at Erin! Look at the pizza goth! Look at everyone here! It’s just like before! She’s still using it on all of us!”

Tiffany slowly lowered her hands from their defensive position, gaze unwavering.

Josh, putting on his voice of authority, tried to interject. “Izzy, you’re—”

“Don’t fucking ‘Izzy’ me!” she snapped.

She turned directly to Emelia. “Do you have any idea what she did to you?” Izzy asked, voice trembling with rage.

Emelia, blinking at her in genuine confusion, gave her a look. “I… what?”

“She wiped your fucking mind!” Izzy shouted. “Ross turned you into a fucking sex bot! He programmed you to be his obedient little dick sucking robot, and fucking Tiffany”—she pointed a shaking finger—”she erased it all. She made you forget.”

Silence.

Emelia, mouth slightly open, looked from Izzy… to Tiffany. Tiffany’s gaze was fixed on Izzy.

Izzy’s hands shook. “And Lucy? Yeah, she’s gone now. Because Tiffany let it fucking happen. You see her?” She pointed at Rose, who had been sitting tensely beside Hannah. “That’s not Lucy. That’s whoever the fuck came after Lucy, because her mind got completely erased. Because of her.” Her voice dripped with rage as her finger zeroed in on Tiffany once more.

Rose flinched but said nothing.

The tension in the air was suffocating.

Izzy’s wild-eyed fury bored into Tiffany. “And you want me to believe you’re not using the Algorithm? Your gothy pizza slut there is following you around like a fucking puppydog! Like, are you fucking kidding me? And Erin?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Fucking look at her! She’s your perfect little sex slave now! And… and”—her voice cracked with venomous disbelief—”everyone just fucking accepts you! Like none of this is crazy! Like we didn’t almost become mindless slaves the last time we were all here! Why the fuck are you even here?! How can any of them stand to be in the same room as you!? Unless you’ve brainwashed us all, like you never stopped!”

The words hung in the air like a noose.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Then Tiffany lowered her hands to her side.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

She looked at Izzy with a stare so calm, so piercing, it could have frozen fire.

For a long, long moment, she just looked at her.

And then with quiet, absolute certainty, she tilted her head, and said, “…Are you done?”

The tension in the room was a living thing—thick, oppressive, coiled around every breath and heartbeat. Izzy’s accusations hung in the air like a curse no one dared acknowledge, and Tiffany could feel the weight of every set of eyes locked onto her.

Erin was the first to move.

“That’s fucking enough, Izzy!” she snapped, puffing herself up like a protective mama bear, fury crackling through her voice. “You don’t get to—”

Tiffany held up a hand. Not a harsh gesture. Not one that cut Erin down. Just a simple, calm directive.

Erin stopped.

She swallowed, looking uncertain for a moment, then dropped back down beside her Mistress, frustration still simmering under her skin but deferring to Tiffany’s instruction.

Tiffany let the silence stretch.

Then, she exhaled, shaking her head with an almost amused smile. “You know, Izzy, it’s hilarious,” she mused. “The idea that I’d waste the potential of the Algorithm making Mike attracted to me, or ensuring everyone still likes me after everything that happened. Like I need it for Erin to love me or for Emelia to find me attractive.” Her eyes glinted, sharp as a razor’s edge. “That’s so small. So petty. It actually offends me that you think I’d do so fucking little.”

She turned slightly, gaze sweeping over the gathered group. “But, let’s pretend. Let’s humor you. Let’s say I had been using it. Hypothetically, let’s say Erin ensured I had my phone on me the night of the last party when I was moping in the corridor, seething and hurting after being cast out, a charge led by you but ed by the majority. Let’s say, again, hypothetically, that I still had access to the app on my phone that activated the Algorithm remotely. Let’s say, for humouring sake, that I entranced you all and programmed you to be sleeper agents, going about things as you normally would have, with maybe the slightest tweak here or nudge there… Completely unaware of my influence…”

Izzy was as white as a sheet, and as Tiffany looked around she noticed that several others were the same.

Good.

“, this is hypothetical now…” she continued, “but don’t you think if I had control of the Algorithm, I would have done things that actually mattered?”

Her voice turned contemplative, playful, and yet each word was a dagger aimed directly at Izzy’s throat.

“Maybe, hypothetically, I would have fixed the friendship between you and Erin,” Tiffany said, tilting her head. “You two were inseparable before all of this. BFFs, though you were both too proud or badass or whatever bullshit to it as such. But after the last party, both of you felt irredeemably betrayed by the other.”

Tiffany turned to Erin, who looked as bewildered as everyone else, but notably less scared.

“You were ready to cut her out of your life forever,” Tiffany said softly. “And I just wouldn’t have allowed that. Not when you’ve known each other since you arrived in this city, Erin, not when you still care about each other more than you’ll it.”

Erin’s breath was stolen from her, while Izzy’s jaw clenched.

“And maybe,” Tiffany continued, tapping a finger against her lips as she turned back to Izzy, “I would have nudged Mike to be interested in you instead of Erin. Because Erin only ever saw him as a fuck buddy, there was never any emotion there for her.”

“But there was with you. And, hypothetically, maybe I would have opened your minds to the possibility that lay before you.”

Now Mike looked shocked, and his grip on Izzy loosened. Izzy looked downright murderous, ready to pounce at Tiffany with everything she had.

But Tiffany wasn’t done. “Lets keep a calm head, now,” she said clearly enough that everyone in the room could hear it, locking eyes with Izzy as she did so. Izzy’s expression was still openly hostile, but her tensed muscles relaxed almost imperceptibly, and Tiffany no longer felt that she needed to be ready to quickly duck.

“Again, hypothetically, perhaps I would have helped Josh,” she continued, her tone growing more measured. “I would have stopped him from holding himself back, given him the confidence to pursue something real with Bobby instead of doubting himself into oblivion like he always does. Because seeing that neither of them were willing to take a risk for something they both wanted, I would have gently nudged them over that hurdle.”

Josh stiffened. His eyes darted to Bobby, unreadable.

“And Alice and Trev?” Tiffany sighed. “After watching them finally get together and then almost immediately tear themselves apart over what happened to Lucy? I would have fixed their breakdown in communication and ensured they simply heard each other out instead of always shouting over one another. I wouldn’t have forced them to make things work, but I would have given them a fighting chance….”

Alice went rigid, her nails digging into her thighs. Trev swallowed hard, looking away.

Tiffany’s eyes darkened. “And maybe… just maybe… I would have stopped Hannah from spiraling completely after I found her in tears on our bathroom floor about to do something stupid.”

An even sharper hush fell over the room, as if everyone was holding one collective breath..

Hannah’s face was as white as a sheet, her eyes betraying grief and anger. Her arms locked around her stomach, as if she could physically shield herself from the words.

Tiffany’s voice softened, but it didn’t lose its bite. “I would have helped you, Hannah, before you hurt yourself.” Her lips curved, bittersweet. “I would have made sure you channeled it into change instead.”

Hannah didn’t look up. But her fingers curled into fists.

Izzy’s face was pale, her eyes fixed on Tiffany and seemingly indecisive between anger and fear. Tiffany kept going, looking around to see that everyone was completely focused on her now, like she had hypnotically entranced them with her words alone. It looked like one of the cheerleaders had stayed while the rest had left to go clubbing. Debora, if Tiffany ed correctly. And there stood Josh’s neighbours, Sydney and June, staring at her with everyone else, albeit they looked more confused than concerned.

Tiffany paid them no mind as her gaze drifted over everyone else in turn, her voice weaving through the room like a snake.

”And big fucking deal if I made Erin quit smoking, if I made her leave her crappy apartment to move somewhere safe. So what if I made her start her citizenship process. So what if I ensured her safety.” Tiffany scoffed. “Hypothetically!” she quickly added.

Her gaze bore into Izzy’s, unwavering.

“And what? You think I’m using the Algorithm to make people want to kiss me? To fuck me? To submit to me?” Tiffany chuckled, shaking her head. “Honey, I don’t need the Algorithm for that.”

She turned to Erin.

“Strip,” Tiffany commanded.

A ripple of shock coursed through the group. Even Erin’s breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly.

“Tiff—” she hesitated, unsure.

Tiffany leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “We don’t have to hide it anymore. Just obey.”

Erin swallowed. Then, something in her posture changed. She exhaled. She surrendered.

She reached for the hem of her top, pulled it up over her head, and let it fall to the floor. Her hands moved with reverence, unzipping her skirt, letting it drop, standing in nothing but lace and obedience.

Tiffany looked at her expectantly, tilting her head and blinking very deliberately.

“Oh fuck me…” Erin muttered under her breath, unclasping her bra as her cheeks turned scarlet.

Tiffany couldn’t help but survey the room as Erin pulled her panties off next. There was a surreal mixture of emotions at play. The confused were those with no memory of the Algorithm, including Bobby and Emelia. Bobby seemed to think there was some elaborate prank going on, and he was looking around for anyone else grinning like he was. Emelia was captivated, her brow furrowed as she took in Erin and watched Tiffany. Sydney and June were exchanging frantic whispers, trying to put things together. Rose, to her credit, looked more curious than anything else, while Hannah…

Hannah had a look of pure contempt. Interesting. Not shock like Marion and Libby, or grave disappointment like Josh and Alice. If Tiffany had to guess, she would say that Hannah was pissed that Tiffany had clawed her way back on top. The happiest Hannah had been all night was mere minutes ago, when she was orchestrating the drama of the spin the bottle game. When she had been pulling everyone’s strings.

Tiffany swept her gaze across everyone else before swiftly turning back to Erin.

“Kneel.”

Erin kneeled, this time obeying without the slightest hesitation.

A nervous murmur rippled through the room, everyone processing this development in their own way.

Tiffany turned to Emelia, who had been watching with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “This isn’t how I intended the evening to go. But please hear me out. Then you can decide if you want to stay or go.”

Emelia gazed at Tiffany, somewhat mystified, swallowed, but didn’t move.

Tiffany smiled. Then, she turned back to the group.

“Hypothetically.” A new voice cut across the room. It was Hannah, her eyes ablaze with ion.

Once all eyes turned to her, Hannah took a deep breath. “Hypothetically, Tiff. If you did all that, if you did brainwash us all, and we’re all your sleeper agents, then you’ve been controlling us this whole time, right? We’re just your puppets, unaware of our strings, thinking that we have free will when we don’t.”

“No, that’s not true,” Tiffany defended. “Sure, I interjected at certain key moments, but that’s it. For the most part, I’ve stayed away, I’ve let you all have your committee and do what you want with the Algorithm. It’s not my fault you’ve done sweet fuck all with it.” She took a deep breath. “Y’know, hypothetically.”

“Why, Tiff?” Alice cut in, her voice harrowed, tears streaming down her face. “Why couldn’t you respect the decision? We were… I was just starting to trust you again...”

Tiffany turned to face Alice, feeling an overwhelming sadness at seeing her pain. But she swallowed her own grief, and kept a cold, detached demeanor.

“Trust cuts both ways, Alice,” she said bluntly, continuing before anyone could interject. “Almost immediately after you voted me out, one of you made a play for full control. I won’t say who, but what I will say is that without my sleeper agent programming in them, I wouldn’t have been able to stop them.”

There was a look of disbelief amongst those on the committee. Libby, Josh, and Alice looked around at the other , catching each other’s glance, while Trev, Hannah, Marion and Izzy kept their eyes fixed firmly on Tiffany.

“So after that, I had to put in safeguards for my own protection, and yours,” Tiffany said sternly. “But otherwise, I truly did leave you all to it. I wanted to see… See if you would rise to the occasion or fuck it all up. And Jesus fucking Christ, you did not disappoint.”

She exhaled sharply. “For example, look at what you’ve done to Lucy.”

Everyone glanced to where Rose sat, still in the spin-the-bottle circle, watching everything unfold with avid curiosity.

”You’ve spent weeks failing to bring her memories back, sitting her in front of the Algorithm over and over, making zero progress. Now she’s growing a brand new identity that you’re keeping secrets from, who’s questioning her existence and whether or not that existence will be snuffed out if you finally succeed!”

Tiffany glared at Trev, at Josh, and at Alice. Each of them looked to be wearing a unique mixture of guilt and shame. Tiffany didn’t hold herself back.

”And now Christmas is coming, and she’s expected home.” Her eyes gleamed. “How exactly do you plan to explain to her mother that her daughter has no idea who she is? There is no way Rose can possibly herself off as Lucy.”

Josh flinched. Then, somewhat bashfully, he muttered, “Hannah’s supposed to go with her. We were gonna have her use a portable Algorithm to make her mom not notice anything’s wrong.”

Tiffany felt a surge of triumph. ”So using the Algorithm to take the easy option, are we?” She tilted her head, reveling in it. “Funny how morality shifts when it’s you making the calls, isn’t it?”

“Jesus, Tiff!” Trev spoke up for the first time since Izzy’s outburst. “We were doing our best! It’s a damn sight better than what you got up to!”

Tiffany faced Trev and tilted her head. “Really, Trev? You want to compare morals?” Her voice lowered. “Because none of you are innocent.”

She pointed at each of them, listing their sins like a judge pronouncing sentences.

“You, Trev, want to brainwash your professors, and give yourself a free ride through college.”

Trev’s jaw clenched, but Tiffany was already moving on.

“Josh wants to brainwash his parents, his coach, and especially his grandfather. Force them all to accept him so he can stop lying all the time.”

Josh’s hands balled into fists. “Enough,” he said.

Tiffany ignored him, turning to his left. “Libby wants revenge on her ex. She wants to turn James into an incel for the rest of his days.”

Libby simply shook her head, a look of disgust appearing on her face.

Tiffany quickly moved on, turning to a nervous looking Alice.

“Alice wants to ki—“

“Stop!” Alice pleaded. “Please! Tiff, just stop it!”

Tiffany paused, staring down Alice who looked on the verge of a panic attack.

Alice’s hands shook as she clasped them in front of her face. “I know what I want. It doesn’t mean I’ll… I was never going to…”

Tiffany nodded solemnly. ”Only because you all paralyse each other. None of you can achieve what you actually want, so collectively you’ve accomplished nothing.”

She turned to Hannah. “You can’t even afford therapy without burning through your savings.” She shook her head in exasperation. “I’m going to fix that.”

Hannah’s head snapped up.

But Marion was the one to speak. “Tiff,” she said in a sorrowful tone. “You’re going off the deep end, but it’s not too late to relinquish your power and find yourself again.”

“I have found myself,” Tiffany replied, her voice hardened. She looked around the room once more. “I know what I am. The Algorithm has corrupted me completely, I’m not naive, I won’t deny it. I’m a monster…” She let the words settle. “But I’m your monster.”

She turned back to Izzy.

“You’ll live your best life, Isabella. You won’t know it’s because of me. And I don’t care if you hate me, I really don’t.”

Izzy seemed to burn with anger and tremble in terror all at once. But she had no words, no snappy comeback.

Tiffany then faced Alice. “Your stepdad is going to be leaving your mom. It’s already in motion. She’ll take him for every penny he has, and you’ll get a stupidly large inheritance. It doesn’t make up for what he did, but you can put him behind you to do whatever the fuck you want with your life.”

Alice stared in disbelief, tears running down her face.

Then Tiffany turned to Marion. “All you really wanted to do is to use the Algorithm on yourself to make yourself smarter, and less insecure. I’m going to help you with that.” She shrugged. “Hell, I’ve already done it to myself.”

Marion let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head despondently.

“And Trev. I’ll help you too,” Tiffany promised. “But not by brainwashing teachers.”

Trev scowled, like he resented being told off on top of everything else.

She then turned to Rose. “I’m going to help you,” Tiffany said earnestly. “I won’t erase who you are now, but I’m determined to bring your old memories back. But they’ll coexist, not overwrite.”

“Oh,” Rose said, somewhat surprised. “O-okay.”

“But you can’t keep going around calling yourself ‘Rose,’” Tiffany said, somewhat insistently. “I can’t afford any wrong attention from anywhere. You’ll become Lucy again, but on your .”

Rose furrowed her brow as she processed this, then gave Tiffany a slight, subtly grateful nod.

Then she sighed and faced Libby. “Your revenge isn’t using the Algorithm. It’s moving on.”

Finally, she turned to Hannah.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Of everyone here, you’re the only one I feel I’m truly letting down.” Her voice wavered. “I will find a way to fix things between us. I promise.”

Hannah let out a slow breath, fingers tapping against her thigh, her gaze sharp and calculating.

“You can brainwash me all you want, Tiff.” The words were quiet. Deliberate. “You can force me to love you, adore you, kneel for you, call you my goddess. It would be very on brand for you.”

She looked to be on the verge of tears, holding her arms tight to her chest,

“But we will never, ever be friends again. Nothing can ever fix what you’ve broken here tonight.”

Tiffany opened her mouth to sling a witty retort, but she stayed herself. She just made a promise, and Hannah flat out declared it impossible.

Unacceptable.

She walked up to Hannah, who visibly tensed all over.

“I’m not giving up on us that easy,” Tiffany said softly. “You’re worth fighting for, Hannah.”

Hannah said nothing, simply shaking her head, her eyes pulled between grief and rage.

“But for now,” Tiffany addressed the room at large. “We need to tidy up this mess. So everyone, let’s all take a breath and chill out.”

The effect was subtle but immediate. Hannah inhaled deeply, held it, and then as she exhaled, all the tension had left her body and she blinked at Tiffany with a look of calm acceptance.

Every other sleeper agent had done the same. Even Bobby and Mike followed suit, their minds clouding as the trigger encomed them. Erin and Rose were no exceptions, both of their eyes dulling into a hazy state of calmness. Within moments, all of them were subdued, which allowed Tiffany to switch her attention to the few people left who didn’t have any programming in their minds.

So she turned, looking directly at Emelia, her expression softening ever so slightly. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice lower now, quieter. “This wasn’t how I wanted tonight to go. Once again, a fun evening, a night full of possibilities, has been hijacked by bullshit. And once again, you’re caught in the middle of something you didn’t sign up for.”

Emelia, who had been sitting tensely, her fingers curled around her cup, let out a slow breath. Her gaze flicked between Tiffany, Erin—still on her knees, her eyes now glazed over—and the rest of the room. She didn’t speak.

“I mean it,” Tiffany said, taking a slow step toward her. “You didn’t deserve this. It’s a bit much to take in. I’d like to explain everything, if you’ll let me. Bit if you just want to go…” Tiffany trailed off. “Actually, wait here.”

Something flickered across Emelia’s expression. Confusion, perhaps. Or curiosity. She was still watching Tiffany carefully, still waiting as Tiffany went to the kitchen. She noticed that Debora, Sydney, and June were all watching her cautiously as well.

Tiffany reached into one of the cupboards, rummaging through the half-emptied snack stash, before pulling out a couple bags of Skittles. “Ah-ha! Wild Berry! Score!”

She turned back to Emelia, rolling the bag in her palm. “Ever seen The Matrix?”

Tiffany didn’t take her eyes off Emelia, who picked herself off the ground. She ripped open the bag of Skittles, letting a few pieces roll into her palm. With her other hand, she carefully plucked out a single red Skittle and a single blue one, holding them between her fingers like they were precious, fragile things.

She left the bag and the spares on the kitchen island, then stepped closer to Emelia. Slow. Measured. Face to face.

“This is your choice,” Tiffany murmured, letting the words hang between them, thick with implication. “You take the blue one—” she held it up, rolling it delicately between her fingers “—and you forget everything that just happened tonight. From the moment Izzy snapped, the accusations, Erin kneeling for me—you forget it all. You’ll wake up tomorrow knowing you had fun at this party, that maybe we flirted a little, but in the end, nothing happened.” Her gaze locked onto Emelia’s, unblinking. “You walk away, and this is just another night.”

She let that sink in.

Then, she lifted the red Skittle.

“But if you take the red one…” Her voice dropped just enough to send a shiver down Emelia’s spine. “I tell you everything. The truth. You learn about what’s really happening. You see just how deep the rabbit hole of pleasure, submission, and obedience really goes.” She stepped even closer, lowering her voice to a velvet murmur. “You learn what it feels like to truly surrender, to give in completely… and love every second of it.”

She lifted both Skittles toward Emelia’s lips, her own lips curling into a knowing smile. “So. What’s it gonna be?”

Silence.

Tiffany realised that it was such a shame Erin was in her triggered haze. If she had been conscious, she’d no doubt be vibrating with excitement.

Emelia stared at the two candies.

Her breathing had changed—just slightly, just enough that Tiffany noticed. There was a flush creeping up her neck, a new kind of tension in her body. Not fear. Not anger.

Temptation.

Her eyes flicked up to Tiffany’s, then back to the Skittles.

Slowly, deliberately, she parted her lips.

Tiffany smirked.

Then, Emelia plucked the red Skittle from Tiffany’s fingers with her teeth.

She held Tiffany’s gaze as she chewed. As she swallowed.

Then, with a slow, deliberate smile, she whispered:

“Show me.”

Tiffany felt a thrill of excitement rush through her. She was definitely going to enjoy this. She gently brushed her hand over Emelia’s cheek. “You won’t regret it. I just have one thing to take care of first.”

Emelia closed her eyes and enjoyed the lingering touch, before opening them again and nodding in understanding.

With a final smile, Tiffany then turned to the three remainders.

Debora, Sydney, and June.

They hadn’t been caught in the Algorithm’s web. Sure, they were among those who had been memory wiped of being naked and obedient to Ross last time, but that just meant they didn’t even know what the hell was going on here. They were spectators, dragged into something far beyond their understanding.

Tiffany met their gazes, one by one, then smiled.

“Alright,” she said, rolling the Skittles packet between her fingers. “I won’t insult you by pretending this hasn’t been a very weird night for you three.”

Debora let out a nervous laugh, her arms crossed tightly. “Yeah. No shit.”

June frowned, arms hugging her torso. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

Sydney, on the other hand, just watched. Quiet. Thoughtful. Studying.

Tiffany picked out a few blue Skittles from the packet, and rested them on her open palm.

“Same offer I gave Emelia. If you take the blue one,” she explained smoothly, “you wake up tomorrow with a normal party memory. No insane drama. No weird conversations. Nothing beyond some fun, some drinks, and maybe some foggy details. You’ll feel completely normal. You’ll move on. You won’t know the truth of what’s really going on here, but you won’t get caught in it either.”

She held out three red Skittles in her other hand.

“Take the red one… and I’ll explain. Everything.” Her lips curved. “What the Algorithm is. The control. What happened tonight, what’s been happening for weeks. What’s going to happen next.”

Her voice lowered, rich and sultry.

“You’ll see how deep this rabbit hole really goes.”

“And end up like her?” June motioned at Erin, still kneeling, completely naked, a faraway, calm expression on her face.

“Not necessarily,” Tiffany said in a measured tone. “But I won’t lie, it’s a possibility, if that’s what your heart desires.”

Debora and June exchanged a look.

A silent, unspoken agreement ed between them.

Debora sighed. “Yeah, no. I’m good.” She reached out, grabbed the blue Skittle, and popped it in her mouth. “I don’t need to know anything. I just want out.”

June hesitated, but the fear in her eyes made the decision for her. “Same,” she mumbled, taking a blue Skittle as well. “I don’t think I want to know.”

Tiffany nodded approvingly. “That’s fair.”

Then, she turned to Sydney.

The one who hadn’t moved.

The one who was still watching, her lips pressed together, her fingers twitching just slightly at her side.

Tiffany arched a brow. “And you?”

Sydney inhaled slowly.

Exhaled.

And then—deliberately, confidently—she reached for the red Skittle.

The movement was silent, but seismic.

Tiffany actually blinked, her breath catching for a fraction of a second. She hadn’t expected this one.

Tiffany took Sydney in properly for the first time. Her asymmetrical undercut was striking, a perfect contrast between the sleek, shaved side of her head and the long, dark waves that tumbled over her other shoulder. Her skin was golden in the glow of the atmospheric lighting, and her hazel eyes gleamed with curiosity but didn’t give away anything else.

An enigma.

Tiffany’s lips curled into something slow and satisfied. “Oh,” she purred, rolling the red Skittle between her fingers before feeding it to Sydney herself. “Brave girl.”

Sydney let Tiffany place it on her tongue, her lips parting just slightly as their fingers brushed.

And then she swallowed.

”Sydney?” June said in a near fearful tone. “What the hell?”

Sydney gave June a calm shrug. “What can I say? I wanna know.”

“Ladies,” Tiffany said, clasping her hands together. “Thank you for your participation, I hope everything up to the crazy part was at least a fun evening for you.”

She wandered up to the coat rack and rummaged around for her handbag, fishing out her phone.

She unlocked it, and navigated to an unassuming app that displayed a full screen of options.

She scanned through them, a smile appearing on her lips. “This’ll do.”

Emelia looked at her quizzically. Tiffany simply winked, returning her attention to her screen.

She pressed her chosen button. Pressed confirm.

And then the various screens on the walls of the apartment flickered to life. A bright swirling, pulsing mesh of colours spilled into the room. At the same time, a deep, reverberating audio signal started playing out of the surround sound speakers, flooding everyone’s ears with the inescapable noise.

“Hello darkness my old friend,” Tiffany murmured under her breath. The pulsing sound invaded her ears like she’d been plunged underwater, and she saw the other girls’ eyes locking on one of the screens before her own gaze was captivated by the irresistible display.

She didn’t fight it, because she knew she couldn’t. She simply accepted it as her mind was engulfed and everything she knew faded to nothing.

Erin gasped as awareness rushed back in like a tidal wave. The air was thick with heat, the scent of leather and lust saturating her senses. She was kneeling. Still naked. Completely exposed.

Erin barely had time to process anything before she felt Tiffany’s fingers at her neck. The cold sensation of the collar unbuckling sent a shiver through her. The moment it slipped free, her mind snapped into place, her thoughts rushing back like a dam breaking. The trance shattered.

She gasped again, realizing what had just happened.

“Oh, fuck,” Erin breathed. Her hands twitched at her sides, but she didn’t move from where she knelt. The sight before her was too much to take in.

Because standing before her was Tiffany.

But not just Tiffany.

This was Mistress Tiffany.

The outfit was impossibly decadent—a black leather corset, cinched tight, pushing up the curve of her chest. A matching high-waisted skirt hugged her hips, splitting at the side to reveal a teasing sliver of bare thigh. Glossy, thigh-high boots gleamed under the dim light, their heels sharp enough to be a weapon.

And at her neck—resting just above the collarbone, glinting in the low light—was the pendant.

Deep, royal purple, the gem set in a delicate black choker. But the significance of it was far from delicate.

Erin knew it instinctively.

The pendant was everything. It was power.

Whoever wore it was the Mistress.

Whoever wore it was to be obeyed.

“Welcome back,” Tiffany murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She tilted Erin’s chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I always love this part.”

Erin swallowed, still dizzy with everything she was seeing. “What… what the fuck, Tiff? What is this?”

Tiffany’s lips curled into a smirk.

“This?” Tiffany purred. “This is fun.”

She stepped back, standing tall over Erin, her eyes sweeping all around her.

And that’s when Erin realised that she wasn’t alone.

A dozen others knelt silently beside and behind her, their eyes focused and their bodies utterly still. Hannah. Josh. Alice. Trev. Emelia. They formed the front row either side of Erin, their bodies kneeling in matching poses of open submission, arms resting on thighs, legs spread slightly apart. Their eyes showed that they were alert, and awake, but they were frozen in complete obedience, awaiting commands. Behind them, Bobby. Rose. Mike. Izzy. Marion. Libby. Sydney. All of them in the same pose, wearing nothing apart from their matching slave collars.

All of them—claimed.

Erin’s breath hitched as she took it all in. “Holy fuck.”

She turned back to Tiffany, her eyes ablaze with shock and excitement. “You did it! You fucking did it!”

“I did it.” Tiffany twirled the collar in her fingers, watching Erin’s breath quicken, her pupils dilating as her gaze drank her in.

“I take it you like the new look?” She purred.

Erin exhaled hard, her voice catching. “You— I— Wh— Fucking hell, Tiff.”

Tiffany smiled wider.

“It’s not just for show,” she continued smoothly, holding the collar out before her. “See, while wearing one of these, you wouldn’t even be capable of questioning me. Your mind and personality would be completely intact, and you’d feel just like yourself, except obedience would be woven through you to your core. When commanded to do anything, you wouldn’t think twice, wouldn’t resist, wouldn’t hesitate. You’d simply obey. And know that you were both happy and justified to do so.”

Erin swallowed.

“I could put it back on you right now,” Tiffany murmured, running her nails along Erin’s jawline, her touch feather-light. “And you’d surrender. Instantly. You’d be a perfect, loyal, obedient, eager slave.” She leaned in, her breath warm against Erin’s ear.

“But you, Erin? You don’t need a collar to be that for me.”

Erin shivered.

”Without the collar, you essentially have zero programming in your mind that will affect your judgement, so anything I order you to do, it’s still your choice whether or not to obey.”

Tiffany’s gaze flicked to Hannah, whose silent, patient stare hadn’t wavered. “Nobody else here has that freedom right now.”

“Hannah,” she commanded smoothly, “clean my boots.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Hannah obeyed instantly, her voice pure obedience. No hesitation. No resistance. She lowered herself, her hands sliding to Tiffany’s ankles as she pressed her lips to the glossy leather.

The moment her tongue met the surface, a soft, choked moan escaped her throat. Pleasure. Raw and undeniable.

Erin watched, her breath ragged, hands clutching at her bare thighs.

“Oh, yeah,” Tiffany placed a finger on her temple. “While wearing the collar, anything I say to them becomes their reality.”

Erin exhaled heavily, hanging on Tiffany’s every word.

“For example, Hannah’s feeling her own tongue against her cunt right now, which is why she’ll be cleaning my boots but making a mess on the floor.”

Mesmerised by Hannah licking Tiffany’s glossy boots, Erin couldn’t help the words “Holy fucking shit” from slipping out of her mouth.

“And you,” Tiffany continued in a near blasé manner, “you would normally things from when you wore your collar just now, but I wanted to have a big reveal moment with you, so I suppressed your memory from the moment I activated the Algorithm.”

Erin looked up at Tiffany and swallowed hard.

“It’s a lesson I took from your book, actually.” Tiffany smiled coyly down at Erin. “You the day you lured me to Alice’s apartment?”

“Uh-huh…” Erin nodded, her cheeks burning red as her eyes flicked between Tiffany’s steely gaze and Hannah’s shuddering ministrations.

“Your reveal with Alice kneeling there at your feet, naked and blissfully entranced… Well let’s just say it was my inspiration. What do you think of my version?”

“I think…” Erin said through measured effort, “that my brain is currently dripping out my cunt, Tiff.”

Tiffany laughed softly. “That works. I’ll take it.”

“I’m just, I’m blown away, Tiff.” Erin shook her head, the shock, iration, and arousal freely mixing on her face.

”Good,” Tiffany declared, casting her eyes over the kneeling slaves before addressing Erin once more. “And just to ensure you’re fully aware,” she said casually, running a hand over the gleaming purple pendant around her neck. “Right now, all of them are under the same programming. I’m their Mistress.” She smiled, wicked. “But I can the title to someone else.”

She gestured to the pendant.

“This lets me appoint anyone in this room as Mistress or Master for the night.” Tiffany glanced back at Erin, her smirk deepening. “Including you.”

Erin’s breath hitched once more. Her voice came out small. “Fuck…”

Tiffany’s expression flickered just slightly. She lifted a single finger to her choker, tracing the pendant’s outline.

“And if I was to take this off and wear a collar,” she itted slowly, “I’d become just like them.”

Erin’s head tilted with the realisation. “Wait. What?”

Tiffany chuckled, nodding with amusement. “You heard me.” She lifted the collar she’d removed from Erin, twirling it between her fingers. “If this goes around my neck, I surrender everything. My control. My will.” She met Erin’s gaze. “I become every bit the slave they are. So long as someone is wearing the pendant, that is.”

Erin’s stomach twisted. “You—how often—?”

“It’s the first time I’ve done this with everyone,” Tiffany itted. “But it’s been…” She trailed off, her eyes flickering with something private. “…many times that I’ve revealed to you that I still control the Algorithm.”

Erin blinked rapidly, trying to process. “I—don’t that.”

Tiffany’s lips curled knowingly.

“Of course not,” she said. “The sleeper agent programming is too effective. Every time I told you, your mind buried the knowledge before the night was even over.”

Erin gasped. “Holy shit.”

Tiffany’s smirk grew. “And I could have easily fixed that, but I didn’t.” She reached down, cupping Erin’s chin, tilting her face up. Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper.

Their attention was briefly drawn as Hannah shook all over, breathing sharply through her nose and eliciting a low, guttural moan, before continuing her task as before.

“You want to know the truth?” Tiffany purred, turning back to Erin. “I love your reaction. Every… single… time... The excitement. The desperation. The absolute, unrelenting horniness that overtakes you when you realize just how much power I hold, not just over you, but over everyone.

Erin whimpered.

Tiffany bit her lip.

“Your tongue is addictive, darling.” Tiffany said as her eyebrows did a wicked little flick. “Especially when you’re so desperate to please.”

“Holy fuck.” Erin’s voice shuddered as she spoke. “That’s so fucking hot, Mistress.”

“Right?!” Tiffany added, a gleeful lilt in her voice, before her expression became more introspective. “Besides, I kind of liked letting our relationship exist outside of all this. It felt…” A pause. A soft exhale. “…more real.” Another pause, longer, heavier. “Honestly, I had planned on feeling things out with you without the Algorithm taking center stage for at least a couple more months…”

For the first time, something vulnerable flashed in Tiffany’s eyes.

Erin’s heart clenched.

“Tiff,” she whispered. “Tonight—”

“Didn’t go how I intended,” Tiffany finished smoothly, shaking her head. She exhaled a quiet laugh. “Not even close.”

Erin hesitated, then sighed. “Izzy forced your hand.”

Tiffany raised an eyebrow. “No.” She let out a low, rueful chuckle. “I forced my own hand.”

Erin frowned. “What do you mean?”

Tiffany sighed, running the slave collar she held slowly through her fingers. “Izzy didn’t even believe what she was saying. She was just venting. Yelling because she wanted someone to blame for her own jealousy and insecurities.” She exhaled. “I could’ve shut it down. I could’ve defused it. Hell, Hannah, Josh, and Alice would have torn Izzy apart for me if I had just stayed silent…”

Erin watched her carefully. “So why didn’t you?”

Tiffany stopped. Looked at Erin.

And smiled.

Not a smirk. Not amusement.

Something darker. Erin knew that glint in Tiffany’s eye. She squeezed her thighs together as the heat between her legs intensified, and she didn’t know if her heart was pounding out of fear or excitement.

“Because I was looking for any excuse.” Tiffany’s voice was velvet-soft, intoxicating. “Any reason. Any justification… to take complete control.” She sighed, conflicting emotions fighting through her breath. “And now here we are.”

A long, pulsing silence. Erin stared. Hannah groaned and whined as she switched from Tiffany’s left boot to her right.

Then, slowly, Erin’s lips parted. A breathless, whispered realization.

“Holy fuck, Tiff.”

Tiffany just nodded.

And Erin shuddered. “You’re making it permanent, you’re taking over.”

“Technically, I took over already, on the night we got exiled.”

Erin exhaled heavily. “God, I’ve been dying to talk to you about that. You knew, then? That I slipped your phone into your pocket?”

“I figured it out.” Tiffany gave Erin a sly look. “You know, they voted us out for a reason.” She looked over the kneeling slaves that had turned on her once. Hannah was still occupied with her important task, but the others were not. “To stop us from doing this.”

“They deserve this,” Erin shot back unapologetically. “You invited them into the circle, to play nice, and they fucked us off.”

“And if they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have used the app on them. It would have all gone down differently.” Tiffany sighed.

“Exactly! They brought this on themselves.” Erin nodded eagerly. “Fuck me, that’s poetic fucking justice.”

“It’s certainly one way to look at it.” Tiffany gave a half hearted chuckle.

“So what now, Mistress?” Erin asked eagerly. “Do we all get to serve you?”

Tiffany’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “All in good time, my dear. First, a reward for your loyalty.” She turned to Izzy, still kneeling, ready and obedient.

“Izzy, put that sharp tongue of yours to good use and eat Erin out,” Tiffany commanded softly. “Make her scream for me.”

“Ti-Tiff?” Erin’s eyes widened again as she turned to see Izzy already moving. She was caught up in a mixture of surprise and excitement.

“Yes, Mistress,” Izzy said, her voice infinitely more agreeable than the last time she spoke.

“Trev, give Erin a little , make sure she’s comfortable,” Tiffany said.

“Yes, Mistress,” Trev replied, moving behind Erin.

“Tiff. Mistress! Guys, hold on!” Erin’s fluster only grew as Trev moved behind her and Izzy in front, He positioned his arms under Erin’s and leaned her back, allowing Izzy easier access to push her thighs apart and lean in.

“Erin,” Tiffany said softly, locking her in her gaze. “Relax. Let me take care of my good girl.”

Before Erin could reply, Izzy’s mouth encomed her slick pussy and only gasps and moans could be heard from Erin’s lips for the next few moments.

Tiffany’s smirk deepened as Erin writhed under Izzy’s tongue, her chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. The heat in the room was palpable, thick with the weight of obedience and control. Tiffany cast a slow, calculating glance over the kneeling forms before her, her gaze settling on two particular figures.

“Marion, Libby,” she called smoothly. “Crawl forward.”

The two women responded instantly, their bodies shifting from perfect stillness to fluid, graceful movement. They crawled towards where Tiffany directed them, either side of Erin, their eyes locked onto Tiffany, awaiting further command.

Tiffany tilted her head, amusement flickering in her expression. “Show Erin how grateful you are to be collared and owned,” Tiffany purred. “I want you both to give her some attention. Make her feel… adored.”

“Yes, Mistress,” they murmured in unison, their voices soft, reverent.

Marion leaned in first, her lips finding Erin’s flushed skin. She pressed slow, deliberate kisses to the swell of her large breast, her tongue flicking against her nipple before she took it into her mouth. Libby followed suit, mirroring her movements on the other side, their warm tongues teasing and caressing as Erin whimpered beneath them.

Tiffany watched with satisfaction as Erin’s body trembled, her head falling back against Trev’s shoulder as he continued to her. She was lost in pleasure, too consumed to form coherent thought.

Perfect.

Tiffany took the opportunity to speak, her voice smooth, assured.

“This was inevitable, you know,” she mused, watching Erin’s flushed, blissed-out expression. “I told myself I could wait. That I could hold off, let things settle, let the committee play with their control for a little while longer.” She let out a small, wry chuckle. “But look at me. The first time I step back into this apartment… I’ve already fallen completely.”

Her fingers toyed with the pendant at her throat, the deep purple gem gleaming under the dim light.

“I had this outfit prepared weeks ago,” she itted, running a hand down the sleek leather of her corset. “I had enough collars stashed away here, knowing that sooner or later, I’d be putting them to use. I thought maybe I could last a few months before relapsing, but let’s be real—I never stood a chance.”

She exhaled, the ission coming with a twisted sense of relief.

“I even have Ross and Dillon as sleeper agents for me as well, recruiting people they know, not realising they’re doing it all for me.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Erin said with wide eyes, breaking through the haze of pleasure for the briefest of moments.

Tiffany smirked, though it was quickly replaced by a heavy expression. “The Algorithm has me now. Completely. Irrevocably. It’s in my blood, my bones. I need it, Erin. I’m addicted to it. Do you understand what that means?”

Erin barely managed a weak whimper of acknowledgment, her body trembling as Marion and Libby lavished her with attention.

Tiffany chuckled derisively at herself. “I’ve been using it, too. Programming myself, refining myself, playing around with ways I can enhance my mind and body.” She ran a hand over her own thigh, feeling the firm muscle beneath the leather. “I’ve started pretty small, making myself be more disciplined at working out regularly, eating better, ensuring I get enough sleep. My programming resets itself weekly as a precaution, in case of an unforeseen side effect… I have to condition myself anew each time… But it’s safe to say I’ve spent the vast majority of the last few weeks as a brainwashed, slightly optimised version of myself.”

She let her eyes drift down to Erin, watching her twitch under the continued worship of her fellow slaves.

“But the main thing I did was more of a suppression,” Tiffany itted, her tone quieter now, almost contemplative. “You know me, Erin. You know my darkest thoughts. If I hadn’t done something about them…”

Erin’s breath hitched, her hazy gaze flickering up at Tiffany. “You… y- ” she tried to say, her voice barely a whisper. “You suppressed your- your submissive side?”

”Close.” Tiffany smiled faintly. “My need to fall when I reach the top. My desperation to have my control violently stripped from me in the most demeaning, humiliating fashion…”

Her fingers tightened around the pendant.

“I had to use the Algorithm to bury it deep.” She clutched the pendant so tightly her knuckles were sheet white.

”Because if I hadn’t, I would have given in already. You know what I mean, don’t you?” She leaned down, her voice a sultry whisper. “I would have slipped up, and in trying to simply play with having my power stripped from me, I would have missed something, left a loophole open, let someone take this from me. I would have begged to be brainwashed, used, broken into a mindless, obedient plaything.” Her eyes darkened with something raw, something unspoken. “And I would have loved it. I would have needed it. I wouldn’t have been able to come back from it.”

Erin moaned helplessly as her body shuddered, on the edge of release. The slaves didn’t let up, their tongues and fingers working obediently to drive the pleasure through Erin’s body.

Tiffany’s smile returned. “But I didn’t. Because I chose control. I chose power. I chose to nullify my weakness. I buried it deep, where it can’t influence me anymore. Now I can dominate without fear of falling. Not by my own hand, at least.”

“Fuck… Fuck!” Erin gasped. Her body was writhing. Tiffany could see she was on the edge.

“Stop licking, Hannah,” Tiffany said softly.

Hannah immediately obeyed, ceasing her activity and retiring to the same kneeling pose she was in before.

No longer needing to stand still, Tiffany approached Erin, leaning right down so their faces were inches apart. She placed a hand on Izzy’s shoulder, and the slave immediately stopped her eager licking.

“You’re not going to cum without my permission, are you, slave?

“No, Mistress!” Erin whined.

“Because…?” Tiffany said expectantly.

“Because you control my pleasure,” Erin said breathily. “You control my body. You control my mind.”

“Good girl.” Tiffany nodded. “Now beg.”

Erin’s pleading was delicious. Held by Trev and somewhat pinned by Izzy, Marion, and Libby, Erin couldn’t kneel or clasp her hands. All she could do was plaster her face with desperate surrender and beg profusely for her release.

“Please! Mistress! Please let me cum! Oh god oh fuck I need it! Please! Mistress! Please!”

Tiffany let this go on for several more musical moments of Erin’s desperate need, until finally she pushed Izzy’s head back into Erin’s dripping cunt and whispered, “Cum for me.”

Erin burst.

She gasped, her body arching as pleasure finally crashed over her in a powerful, shuddering climax. A desperate, broken cry tore from her lips, her fingers digging into Trev’s arms as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through her.

Her screams filled the whole apartment as Izzy kept her mouth wrapped over her pussy and pushed her tongue into all the right places. Marion and Libby both did their part, squeezing Erin’s breasts, groping her flesh. Marion took things a bit further and pulled Erin’s nipple between her teeth until it was engorged and full of colour.

Erin’s head snapped back, almost knocking Trev over as her eyes snapped shut and her body trembled with her cresting orgasm, like one peak riding into another. She rode the pleasure as long as she could before frantically pushing everyone away from her.

“Okay! Okay! Fuck! Oh my god… oh my god… Oh my…” Her eyes opened, hazy as they were, and she looked at Tiffany with complete adoration. “Goddess…” she finished.

“That’ll do it,” Tiffany said contentedly. “Slaves, back to places please.”

“Yes, Mistress,” they said in unison. Trev, Hannah, Izzy, Marion and Libby all efficiently returned to their original positions, leaving Erin sprawled out on the floor, still breathing deeply and laughing softly.

With a smirk on her face. Tiffany took a couple of steps until she stood over Erin. She then knelt down until she was straddling Erin, knees either side of her, resting most of her weight on Erin’s stomach.

Smiling down at her still recovering slave, Tiffany started running her fingers gently over Erin’s milky flesh, twirling around her nipples, running over her collarbone, caressing her cheek.

“You are so wonderful, Mistress…” Erin said dreamily. “So so good… Just…” She let out a guttural groan of deep satisfaction. “Perfect.”

“I think my toys deserve some credit, don’t you?” Tiffany said with a wicked grin.

“They’re your property, Mistress.” Erin grinned back. “You’re the one who deserves my gratitude.”

“All the same…” Tiffany looked around at the kneeling slaves, raising her voice slightly. “Everyone wearing a collar will experience a wonderful, perfect orgasm when I snap my fingers.”

“Oh!” Erin’s eyes widened. “Classic Tiff!” She frantically looked around her. “Where did my collar go?”

“Uh uh,” Tiffany teased. “You’ve had your turn.”

Without further warning, she snapped her finger.

The crisp snap was like the opening percussion to a symphony of pleasure as a wave of erotic bliss enveloped all of the kneeling slaves simultaneously. For some, gasps and moans built up in a rapid crescendo, for others, it was a sudden shrill scream of pure bliss. The guys each had their own low moan or grunt, but cum spurt out of their dicks in a nearly synchronised burst.

“Gah, fuck!” Erin jerked as some of it landed on her face, causing Tiffany to burst into hysterical laughter. She then grabbed Erin’s hands to stop her wiping it off, instead beaming down at her between fits of giggles.

Soon, the last moans and cries had stilled to gentle gasps and deep, satisfied breaths. Tiffany let go of Erin’s wrists gently, but pushed down on them to communicate that she wasn’t to move.

Then, lovingly, caringly, she ran a finger along Erin’s cheek, gathering a small globule of cum on her fingertip before pressing it to Erin’s lips.

Erin’s eyes briefly flashed with resistance, as if she was going to angrily refuse, but she quickly caught herself and instead looked up at Tiffany pleadingly. Tiffany locked her gaze with Erin’s and that was all it took for Erin to wrap her lips around Tiffany’s finger and suck it clean.

“Good girl…” Tiffany cooed, using her clean hand to stroke Erin’s hair. “Such a good girl for me.”

She continued running her finger over Erin’s face until all the cum was either licked away or dried onto Erin’s skin.

Tiffany then got to her feet, and offered Erin a hand up.

“Fuck Tiff, you are strong…”

“I have the Algorithm to thank for that.” Tiffany smirked.

“We have the Algorithm to thank for a lot.” Erin grinned. “I’m still blown away, Tiff. You did it. You fucking did it!” She pounded her fist into the air. Then her attention was drawn to the apartment. “Wow, this place is fucking spotless!” Her expression then soured as she turned to Tiffany. “You used everyone to clean up the place, didn’t you?”

“Of course.” Tiffany nodded as she poured herself a glass of water. “Slaves aren’t just for sex, Erin. Jeez.”

Erin scoffed in amusement, before rolling her eyes and breaking into another grin. “Ok fine. But mostly for sex.”

“Well…” Tiffany trailed off before taking a large drink from her glass.

“Well?” Erin squinted, a look of concern coming over her face.

She watched nervously as Tiffany unclamped the purple pendant from her neck and laid it gently onto the kitchen island next to the slave collar she had taken off Erin. The surface was clear of all pizza boxes and drinks now, leaving these two items of opposite purpose sitting next to each other as Erin looked from them to Tiffany with growing distress.

“I have two paths before me, Erin,” Tiffany said gravely. “And I need to get this off my chest.”

“Oh- Okay,” Erin said nervously, glancing back briefly at the kneeling slaves all lined up in the centre of the lounge.

“Ignore them,” Tiffany said softly. “Without anyone wearing the pendant, they won’t move or act.”

“Why am I feeling a wave of dread, Mistress?” Erin fidgeted with her fingers as she turned back to face Tiffany.

“Maybe because you feel my doubt. My guilt. The crushing weight of my conscience upon me?” Tiffany said with a weak smile.

Tiffany let out a slow breath, picking up the slave collar and rolling it in her hands as she stared at Erin, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.

“Do you know why I took this off you for all of this?” she asked, voice softer now, but still laced with that quiet authority. “Why I didn’t leave you like the rest?”

Erin swallowed, watching her carefully. “…Because you wanted that big reveal? Oh, and because I honestly don’t need it to serve and obey you.”

Tiffany gave the faintest shake of her head. “Because I think I need you to stop me.”

Erin blinked.

Tiffany exhaled sharply, running a hand through her short, tousled hair. “I need a reality check, Erin. I need you to be the one who tells me I’m going too far here. I need you to be the one who stops me.” Her fingers tightened around the collar, knuckles paling. “Because this? All of this?” She gestured around them—the kneeling bodies, the unblinking obedience, the raw, electric weight of her control. “Fucking look at them! This was too easy! I could do way worse to way more people, and surely we can’t pretend that that isn’t really fucking twisted!”

She dropped the pendant on the kitchen island, flexed her fingers and ran her hands over her face, groaning with the weight of her frustration.

“Why can’t I stop myself?”

She walked across the room, into the pool of slaves. Erin watched her from the kitchen island, a mixture of concern and fascination on her face as she slowly shook her head.

Tiffany stood behind Hannah and ran her hands through Hannah’s cascading ginger curls. “Look at them… I’ve had my fun… I’ve proven my point. I outplayed them all—I won!”

She moved to Alice, crouching and gently stroking her cheek. “I got into this for selfish, immature reasons, and I kept failing upwards. From here, I’m unstoppable.”

She stood up and placed one hand on Libby’s head, the other on Sydney’s.

”I could go farther than this, much farther. I used to think I knew the difference between right and wrong, now it feels like it’s simply a matter of perspective, and with the proper words you can argue that anything is right or wrong.“

She walked back up to Erin, confusion and vulnerability in her eyes. ”These moments of clarity, of conscience, they don’t come to me often, and I fear they’ll happen less and less the more I lean into this control. Because I know this is all so severely fucked up, but I can’t stop myself. I need someone to pull me back, if I don’t have you—”

She cut herself off, jaw clenching.

Erin’s breath hitched as she processed that, as she saw something achingly human in Tiffany’s eyes. “Tiff…”

Tiffany let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “It’s like I said… The Algorithm has me. It’s in my blood, it dominates my mind. I cannot walk away by myself, but you’re the one person who could still make me. Tell me to stop, Erin. Tell me to let them go. To fix this. To put everything back the way it was. The sleeper agent programming can be quietly removed, nobody would need to know. Because I could walk away from this now—and that would be the right choice, right?”

Erin clenched her jaw, exhaling shakily,

“I’ve taken away their choices, but you still have yours, and I still have mine. If we choose love over power, morality over control—then in the end…” She looked at Erin, at her beautiful, flustered, messy, real girl. “…we’ll still have each other. Right?”

Erin’s jaw was still clenched. She didn’t say anything.

“And if anything, tonight proves that there are girls like Emelia in the world who we can have fun with. We can have our dynamic, even bring others into it. Without hurting people. Without the Algorithm.”

A long silence.

Tiffany felt like she was balancing on the edge of a knife. She had grown up with a sense of what was right and what was wrong. And in a matter of weeks, that sense had been obliterated into a thousand shades of murky grey.

She looked back over her kneeling slaves. God, ensnaring their minds had felt so good. So right… She knew that those with addiction didn’t beat it out of sheer willpower. They reached out for help. They found people who would see their struggle and help them. Because if she didn’t get help… How far would she go? Erin had seen the true evils of the Algorithm. She had been enslaved by Alice and by Lucy. She was the other person who had stood on that bridge with Tiffany, staring death in the face. She’d understand, she—

“Are you done?”

Tiffany turned to see Erin standing with her arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Yes,” Tiffany replied cautiously.

“Good,” Erin said. “I wanted to make sure you had gotten it out of your system.”

“Yeah.” Tiffany nodded. “So, will you help me?”

“Always.” Erin flashed a pure, genuine smile. Not her trademark shit eating grin. Not snark, sarcasm, or ridicule.

“Really?” Tiffany couldn’t help the note of surprise in her voice.

Erin laughed. Loud. Unrestrained. She tipped her head back, her bare chest rising and falling with the force of it.

Tiffany frowned, watching her with something between frustration and apprehension. “Erin—”

“Oh, babe,” Erin gasped, wiping at the corner of her eye. “That in itself is the dead giveaway, isn’t it? It’s rich. It’s fucking precious.” She leaned forward, resting her hands on Tiffany’s thighs, looking up at her with something wild in her eyes. “’Really?’ she said, because she didn’t expect that answer…”

“Erin…” Tiffany said more sternly now.

“No!” Erin snapped. “No no, Tiff! You’ve bared your precious little heart, now you need to listen. Because I am going to fucking help you.”

Tiffany opened her mouth to reply, but ended up sighing heavily.

“You don’t really think that. Rare moment of clarity my tits.” Erin laid her hands on Tiffany’s shoulders now, looking up at her with feverish zeal. “You’re pretending to have this moment of crisis because it makes you look redeemable. It’s the kind of shit you’ve pulled from the start. And shit, babe, it’s worked for you so far. You made Josh fuck you while Alice, Trev, and I sucked on your tits, completely enslaved, completely helpless, yet he still accepted you after. You turned Alice into an evil bitch for days and she nearly destroyed us all, and yet she still fucking likes you. You let Trev’s ex-girlfriend seduce the fuck outta you, which pretty much led to her getting her mind obliterated while you watched, but he calmed down, and you two are still friends. Because you keep making yourself look reedemable to them. And they trust that…”

Tiffany felt a heavy weight clutch around her heart.

“But you don’t need to pretend to have these moments that humanise you with me, Tiff. I’m here for the real you, not the sanitized Tiff-lite.”

Erin practically danced away from Tiffany, spinning around and making a mocking gesture of pretend begging. Her tone was forcefully repentant. “Oh pretty please, let me conquer my demons and be a good person!” Erin then dropped the charade, her face reflecting her conviction. “And for what? Some fairytale ending? Good karma? A chance to pat yourself on the back and sing kumbaya at your prayer group?”

Tiffany’s stomach twisted.

Erin shook her head, another short burst of laughter tapering off into something fiercely certain.

“No. Fuck that.”

She moved closer again, her fingers digging into Tiffany’s skin, her eyes blazing. “Fuck them. Fuck morality. Fuck fairytales. That perfect little fantasy they want you to believe in? Love, trust, doing the right thing? That’s just another type of collar, babe. One that the whole fucking world wants us all to wear... To make us afraid of taking what we can when unhindered by their bullshit.”

Tiffany’s breath caught.

Erin’s voice lowered to a husky whisper, her lips brushing against Tiffany’s ear.

“You have the ultimate tool of control at your fingertips, Mistress. And you’re telling me you’re thinking of throwing it away?” She pulled back just enough to look Tiffany in the eyes, smirking. “Tell me, babe. If you did let it all go, if you put everything right and walked away… do you really think you’d feel better? Watching them fumble with a power that they don’t know how to use, when you do? Do you really think you’d just live happily ever after, knowing what you lost?”

Tiffany’s lips parted, but no words came.

Erin’s smirk widened.

“No. They’re terrified of you. They’ll never trust you. Not really. No matter how much you ‘fix’ things, no matter how much you try to convince them you’re rehabilitated… Unless you completely wipe their minds of everything bad you ever did, you will always be the bitch who took control, made them slaves, then almost got them snared by someone worse. You’re the monster under their beds, babe. You always will be.”

Tiffany’s stomach twisted again.

Erin cupped her cheek, her voice a breathy, adoring whisper.

“By their measure, you are a monster. You’re a controlling, manipulative, hypocritical, and downright sadistic demon.”

Tiffany felt her entire body tense. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

“And I love you for that,” Erin said with a feverish, near manic look on her face.

Tiffany’s lips trembled.

“I love every part of you, Mistress,” Erin continued, reverence dripping from every word. “Your mind. Your will. Your power. You could have anyone in the world kneeling at your feet. You’re made for this, you were born for it.”

Erin dropped to her knees so suddenly that she winced in pain, but that didn’t even slow her down.

“I am yours. Completely, totally, eternally yours. And I’m not your voice of fucking reason. I don’t want to pull you back and celebrate your surrender to mediocrity. I want to watch you rise. I want to worship you while you take everything you were meant to have.”

Tiffany exhaled shakily, her head swimming, her pulse pounding. Erin quickly climbed to her feet again, and pressed her naked body against Tiffany’s corset.

“You will not give this up.” Erin’s hands trailed down Tiffany’s sides, resting at her hips. “You will not throw away what you’ve built. And you will not let those who doubted you, who cast you out, dictate what you do now.”

She leaned up, pressing her forehead against Tiffany’s, breathing her in.

“You’ve won, Mistress. We won. Don’t throw it away because you didn’t play fair. Acknowledge that the game itself was never fair and appreciate that you’re a fucking Goddess for winning anyway.”

Tiffany felt her walls cracking. Something dark and intoxicating and thrilling curled around her ribs. It was dangerous, and wrong, and oh so fucking glorious.”

“And you know what?” Erin breathed, pressing a kiss to Tiffany’s jaw, then to her lips, slow and soft and utterly devoted. “I’ll be right here. Every step of the way. Your most loyal, most obedient, most willing slave. I belong to you. Mind, body and soul.”

Tiffany swallowed hard. Erin grabbed the collar from her grip and tossed it aside, giving her a look of hungry desire before pushing in to kiss her again.

Tiffany could feel Erin’s will press down on her, seep into her, like a sickly sweet poison. It was intoxicating. It was irresistible. Erin then pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, her pupils blown, her cheeks flushed.

“If you really wanted someone to talk you out of this, Mistress, you would have woken Alice, or Marion, or fucking saint Libby. But you didn’t, because you don’t. And you don’t have to pretend you do with me, because I’ll never believe it.”

Tiffany looked down into Erin’s eyes. Her devotion was all consuming. Her conviction, grounding. Tiffany knew she was right. Erin saw her. The real her.

“So tell me, Mistress…” Erin whispered. “What was the other path? The one you’re really going to take?”

“Erin, I—” Tiffany started to say, but she stopped. She had no words for how she felt right now. It was like a battle raged within her, tearing her sense of self apart. Was she the one who struggled but ultimately became the liberator? Or was she always just the tyrant they feared her to be? One philosophy flooded her with guilt and shame, the other one with ambition and pleasure.

She tore her gaze from Erin’s look of confident adoration and looked at the floor of kneeling slaves.

She had done that to them. Nobody had forced, convinced, or coerced her. Erin ed her darkest urges, sure, but Tiffany was the one who considered them, toyed with them, then acted on them.

A slow, dark smile curled over her lips.

Tiffany tilted Erin’s chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“You’re right.” Her voice was smooth, dangerous, electric. “I don’t want to stop. I never did. Fuck…”

Erin shuddered. Her pupils dilated, her lips parting with a soft, eager gasp.

Tiffany’s hand slid up Erin’s throat, her thumb pressing gently against her pulse. A teasing touch. A sinister promise.

It was a surreal feeling. All encoming. Penetrating. She could feel her cunt quiver in anticipation. The guilt she had felt, and the hesitation, and the shame, was being washed away in a torrent of arousal and certainty.

She could have any of them. All of them. Have them do anything. She controlled their minds, she controlled the very reality they experienced. While wearing the collars, if she told them they were sex zombies whose only purpose was to cum and make others cum, continuously and relentlessly, they would fuck each other—and her—until dropping from exhaustion.

Wouldn’t that be fun?

Or maybe she could instruct them to see her as a succubus, an irresistible demon of lust that upon making them cum would feast on their souls and leave them broken husks, thralls to her dark power.

She shuddered with arousal.

The possibilities were endless. Her power over them was limitless. She wasn’t their Mistress. That was too bland. Too mortal. She was their Goddess.

And a Goddess deserved worship. There was no point fighting it anymore. No point in fighting what she was.

It might not even be her last moment of weakness, or reflection. But it felt like the last time she’d ever consider acting on it.

“I almost made a mistake,” Tiffany whispered. “Almost.”

Erin exhaled, ragged and wanting. “But you didn’t, Mistress.”

“No,” Tiffany purred, dragging her nails lightly over Erin’s jaw. “I didn’t.”

Then, with deliberate grace, she reached for the pendant.

She lifted it from the counter, feeling its weight. It’s meaning. It’s fate.

She held it in her hands for a moment, feeling the weight of everything it represented. Of everything her heart desired.

It felt like a point of no return. She knew that she could always undo the program. She could always delete the Algorithm. She had that option. She had the power.

Tiffany fastened the clasp, the pendant settling around her throat like a coronation. Like destiny.

And everything fell into place. She had no intention of going back.

It felt like the Algorithm itself hummed in her veins.

“This might all go horribly wrong, you know,” Tiffany said warningly. “I could end up enslaved, mind wiped, or worse…”

“If I can’t protect you from that, then I’ll simply share your fate,” Erin said stoically.

Tiffany glided her fingernails down Erin’s face. “And as my slave, I might need you to do things you won’t enjoy from time to time. It won’t be all fun and games.”

”It wouldn’t feel like submission if it was.” Erin smirked.

Tiffany then reached for the slave collar that Erin had tossed aside. She ran it through her fingers slowly.

And then tenderly fastened it gently around Erin’s neck.

“How does that feel?” Tiffany asked softly.

“Like I’m finally home, Mistress.” Erin sighed.

“You are,” Tiffany whispered, leaning in and kissing her lips. The cherry taste was still there, albeit diminished after pizza, drinks, and bottle-inspired make out sessions. Erin’s tongue was eager and insistent, but Tiffany set the pace, kissing her with tenderness mixed with deep, burning ion.

When they pulled apart they looked deep into each other’s eyes. Erin’s gaze was soft, adoring, flavored with desire and lust. Tiffany’s was hard, determined, and hungry with arousal.

Tiffany turned to the kneeling slaves, her gaze sweeping over them like a queen surveying her kingdom.

“Stand,” she commanded.

They obeyed. One by one, they rose, their eyes locked onto her, obedient, ready.

She could feel their submission. Their devotion. Their need. And Tiffany reveled in it.

She flicked her gaze back to Erin, who was still watching her with something like worship.

“Now,” Tiffany murmured. “Let’s really indulge ourselves.”

She clicked her fingers.

The trigger ignited through her obedient thralls like a wildfire, pleasure crashing over them in waves of gasps, moans, and cries. Their bodies tensed, shuddering, breaking under the force of their Mistress’s control, cumming because she had willed it.

Erin too, now collared, cried out, her face equal parts delight and surprise as the pleasure pulsed through her.

Tiffany soaked it in.

The raw, desperate need. The devotion. The absolute, perfect obedience.

She had spent weeks restraining herself. Denying herself. Pretending she could be something she wasn’t.

She didn’t regret it. Not really. It showed her that she had restraint, however short lived it was. It made her appreciate what it felt like to be excluded, ostracised, adrift.

Now she could appreciate being back at the helm. Now, she was finally going to enjoy what she had conquered.

As the final tremors of bliss rippled through her slaves, Tiffany took a step forward.

Her boots clicked against the floor, sharp and deliberate, cutting through the room like the edge of a blade.

She turned her gaze over them. Her property.

Bodies panting, trembling, wrecked from the pleasure she forced into their bodies and minds. They had no control anymore. No autonomy. No agency.

And that was exactly how it should be.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off the last remnants of restraint. A slow, satisfied smirk curved her lips.

“Alice,” Tiffany murmured first, watching the way Alice shivered just from hearing her name.

“Yes, Mistress,” Alice breathed, vibrating eagerly.

“Emelia,” she continued, turning her attention to the gothic beauty who had made her choice not long ago.

“Yes, Mistress,” Emelia whispered, anticipation bright in her dark blue eyes.

Then, finally…

“Sydney.”

Sydney didn’t tremble like Alice. Didn’t fidget like Emelia. She simply stared up at Tiffany, her hazel eyes unreadable.

“Yes, Mistress,” Sydney murmured, steady. Sure.

Tiffany’s lips curled. Good girl.

Then, she turned to the rest.

“Everyone else,” Tiffany said smoothly, slowly, savoring the way their bodies tensed, waiting for direction. “Enjoy yourselves.”

A ripple of surprise, excitement, anticipation.

A release of tension.

She let the words sink in before adding, with a smirk-

“Any way you want. Until I say otherwise.”

The realisation swept through the attentive slaves, smiles curling onto several pairs of lips.

They all scanned each other, appraising, deciding.

And then, bodies gravitated toward each other, hands and lips and skin colliding in a slow dance of rising desire.

Libby and Izzy, never having expressed an interest in one another when not under control, now tumbled onto the couch together, devouring each other with hungry mouths.

Hannah staked a claim to an armchair before grabbing Marion by the wrist, pulling her into her lap, their mouths crushing together.

Mike and Trev, having been checking out the sea of naked girls around them, were pulled into Erin’s gravity. She grinned up at them, biting her lip, before giving them a non-negotiable command: “Both of you. At the same time. Now.”

Tiffany smirked as Mike and Trev exchanged a glance, before directing their full attention into Erin, their hands already exploring her eager, willing body.

Josh was already on his knees, his lips wrapped around Bobby’s cock, his own dick twitching with unrestrained arousal as he eagerly took Bobby into his mouth.

Alice, Emelia, and Sydney stood before Tiffany, rapt at attention and hanging on her every motion. Everyone else was rapidly losing themselves in unrestrained lust.

Except one.

Tiffany turned her attention to Rose.

Lucy’s body.

Not Lucy’s mind.

Rose was still standing, watching everything. Her eyes were drifting over the writhing bodies, a mixture of desire and hesitation playing across her face, like she knew she wanted to in but wasn’t sure how. Or who.

Tiffany exhaled, stepping closer, cupping Rose’s jaw.

“You’re not ing in,” Tiffany said kindly. “Not tonight.”

“Mistress?” Rose blinked up at her. “I’m… not?”

“No,” Tiffany said softly, brushing her thumb over Rose’s bottom lip. “Not yet. Once I’ve reunited you with your old memories, we’ll talk about your desires. But for now, watch, or don’t. It’s up to you.”

Rose swallowed, her breathing shaky. “May I touch myself, Mistress?”

Tiffany looked Rose up and down. She too was quivering with arousal. She too exploded with pleasure when Tiffany snapped her fingers. Twice.

“Of course,” Tiffany said. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you find yourself in more ways than one.”

Rose carefully processed Tiffany’s words, then nodded politely.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Tiffany smiled down at her. “Good girl.”

Then she turned away, finally returning her focus to the three she had chosen.

Alice.

Emelia.

Sydney.

Tiffany gazed at them, drinking in their naked bodies, the intoxicating curves, the enticing lips, and their dripping cunts, already warmed up and aching for her. “You three,” she purred, taking a slow step forward, “belong to me tonight.”

Their breaths hitched.

Tiffany tilted her head, dragging a nail along Alice’s jaw, watching her shudder from even the lightest touch.

“You will worship me.”

She slid her fingers into Emelia’s hair, watching her bite her lip, desperate for more.

“You will serve me.”

She dragged her nails down Sydney’s chest, feeling her shudder, her breath hitching as her nipples peaked, her body begging to be touched.

“You will pleasure me.”

Tiffany smiled, stepping back. “And you will do it well.”

The three nodded, eager, reverent, trembling.

“Yes, Mistress,” Alice whispered.

“Yes, Mistress,” Emelia breathed.

“Yes, Mistress,” Sydney murmured.

Tiffany exhaled softly. This was what she craved.

They were hers.

And they were going to show her exactly how much they adored her.

“Come closer,” Tiffany murmured.

They obeyed instantly, moving forward, their hands smoothing over her calves, her thighs, as they closed the space between them.

Tiffany let her gaze drift over them, letting the anticipation build. She could see it in the way Alice’s fingers twitched, in the way Emelia bit her lip, in the way Sydney’s chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths.

She smirked. “Let’s see how controlled you really are. I want to feel you,” Tiffany purred. “All of you.”

She cupped Alice’s chin first, tilting her head up, watching the way Alice melted at her touch. Her breath hitched. A flicker of hesitation—not out of reluctance, but out of the weight of the moment.

Tiffany snaked her fingers into Alice’s golden waves, pulling her in. Their lips met, and it was electric. It was the same delicious heat as earlier, but this time, there was no audience, no restraint, no need to hold back. Alice melted against her, moaning into the kiss as Tiffany’s teeth caught her bottom lip, tugging, teasing, devouring.

As they pulled away, Alice gasped softly, dazed. “Just like old times, huh, Mistress?” she said with a dreamy smile.

Tiffany smirked, then turned to Emelia.

Emelia didn’t hesitate.

Her kiss was different from Alice’s—where Alice had been hesitant, Emelia was fierce. Confident. Hungry.

Tiffany sighed into it, letting Emelia take, letting her tongue tease and taste, letting her lips pull a needy moan from Tiffany’s throat.

Fuck.

She was good.

She nipped at Tiffany’s bottom lip, playful, testing. Tiffany growled, gripping Emelia’s fiery dark hair, tugging hard. Emelia whimpered, heat flooding her sapphire eyes.

Then, she turned to Sydney.

The enigma. The mystery.

Sydney held her gaze, something dark and intense in those hazel depths.

Tiffany raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

Sydney leaned in—

And her kiss was completely different.

She didn’t rush. Didn’t devour. Didn’t tiptoe.

She explored.

Her lips pressed soft at first, teasing, like she was memorizing the shape of Tiffany’s mouth.

Then, deeper, slower, more deliberate.

Her hands ghosted over Tiffany’s waist, her fingers barely touching, just enough to make Tiffany shiver.

Sydney wasn’t just kissing her. She was studying her.

Tiffany let her, let Sydney taste her, learn her, worship her.

By the time they parted, Tiffany was breathing heavier than she expected.

Tiffany stepped back, dragging her fingers over her corset.

”Now, to make this even more fun…” A playful glint shone in her eyes. “Everything you do to me? You will feel on your own body.”

Their eyes widened.

Tiffany watched as heat flooded them, the weight of the command sinking into their bodies.

Alice let out a shaky exhale.

Emelia whimpered.

Sydney’s pupils dilated.

The air was thick, heavy, sweltering with the scent of sweat and sex, bodies moving, writhing, pleasuring in every direction. Tiffany barely had to cast a glance over the scene—There was Erin on her hands and knees before both Mike and Trev, her body utterly taken from both ends in rapid thrusts. Marion’s head was buried in Hannah’s crotch as the redhead tethered her in place, her hands tightly gripped in her hair and her legs wrapped around her neck. Izzy and Libby were scissoring so desperately on the sofa that their bodies barely stopped shaking, moaning into each other’s mouths as they gushed against one another.

But they were a momentary distraction, not her focus.

Tiffany barely turned back to the three she had chosen before they were already reaching for her. Hands on her hips, fingers skimming over her waist, lips brushing against her skin as if drawn by an irresistible pull. Alice, Emelia, and Sydney—each of them eager, each of them aching, each of them hers.

Alice was on her again, her lips silky and sensuous as they met Tiffany’s. This time the hesitation was gone, replaced by a primal need, a hunger for ion that only Tiffany could provide.

Emelia wasn’t willing to wait for her orderly turn. Her hands trailed down Tiffany’s back, her mouth hot and impatient against Tiffany’s neck, sharp bites followed by slow, wet kisses, making Tiffany shiver.

Sydney’s hands slid around Tiffany’s waist, fingers dancing over her ribs, her breath warm against her shoulder. And then, while Alice was still kissing her and Emelia was still teasing her neck, Sydney’s lips ghosted over the top of her spine, pressing a delicate kiss there before trailing lower, lower, through the tight laces of her corset.

Tiffany groaned, dragging Alice closer, pulling Emelia’s hair tight, and then—finally—turning to Sydney. She gripped the Latina’s chin, forcing her gaze upward. Sydney’s hazel eyes gleamed with something dark, something unreadable, something that sent a thrill through Tiffany’s core. She didn’t need words—Tiffany kissed her hard, swallowing the soft gasp that left Sydney’s lips.

It was chaos. A beautiful, tangled mess of bodies. Hands everywhere, lips pressing, teasing, taking. Tiffany barely knew whose fingers were skimming her thighs, whose tongue flicked over the pulse in her throat, whose breath she was moaning into. She didn’t care.

All she knew was that it wasn’t enough.

“Off,” she ordered, tugging at her corset laces. Alice obeyed instantly, her hands nimble, her lips brushing along Tiffany’s collarbone as she worked. Emelia dropped to her knees, dragging Tiffany’s leather skirt down, pressing hot kisses against each inch of newly revealed skin. Sydney’s hands roamed over Tiffany’s hips, her breath coming heavier, needier, lips trailing over her stomach, her ribs, as if she was worshiping every part of her.

The air was thick with heat, the scent of arousal, the dizzying friction of skin against skin. Tiffany exhaled sharply as the corset finally loosened, falling away from her body, leaving her torso bare. She arched, reveling in the sensation of hands and mouths exploring her, gasping when Alice’s tongue flicked over a nipple, moaning when Emelia’s teeth grazed the inside of her thigh.

”Come,” she ordered feverishly, moving towards the couch, seeing the busy occupants on it. “Izzy. Libby.”

They barely hesitated, too lost in their frantic rhythm, too wrecked in pleasure to do anything but obey when Tiffany gave the command.

“Off,” she said smoothly. Not unkindly, but firm.

Izzy gasped, mid-thrust, Libby’s legs still tangled with hers. But they didn’t question it. Didn’t hesitate. They simply untangled themselves, limbs weak, bodies still shuddering from their relentless scissoring, and shuffled onto the floor without a word.

Tiffany purred in satisfaction as she moved toward the newly vacated space, glancing down as the two girls instinctively repositioned on their knees beside the couch, like obedient little pets waiting for their next order. She smirked, running a single finger through Izzy’s sweat-drenched hair before flicking it off her shoulder dismissively.

Then, finally, she turned back to her chosen three, lowering herself onto the sofa.

“Finish what you started.”

It was not a request. It was a rite.

Alice, Emelia, and Sydney moved in unison, drawn to her like moths to an all-consuming flame. Hands, lips, tongues—all of them devoted to her.

Emelia and Sydney each took a knee, one on either side, their hands reaching for Tiffany’s boots, fingers working at the clasps, tongues flicking over the smooth, glossy surface, worshipping even as they undressed her.

The boots slid off, leaving Tiffany bare, save for her arousal soaked panties.

Alice was there before the other two could manage, her knees hitting the floor, her teeth latching onto the band of Tiffany’s panties. No hands. Just her mouth. Tiffany smirked as she lifted her hips just enough for Alice to pull, dragging the soaked lace down over the curve of her thighs, down past her knees, until Alice was panting against the fabric, breathing her in, moaning as she slipped them over Tiffany’s bare feet.

Tiffany exhaled, slow, indulgent, before she finally let herself sink into the couch, stretching out, arms draping over the cushions, legs spreading in welcome.

Alice pressed her face between Tiffany’s thighs, nuzzling, moaning, tasting the heat of her without breaking the last barrier, her lips reverent against the delicate flesh. Emelia trailed kisses up her calf, her knee, her inner thigh. Sydney’s hands smoothed up Tiffany’s sides, cupping her breasts, teasing the sensitive peaks with her thumbs.

The air was thick with heat. With anticipation. With devotion. All around the room moans of pleasure and gasps of joy created a symphony of unbridled lust, of decadent indulgence to their primal needs.

The first stroke of Alice’s tongue against her aching cunt made Tiffany shudder.

Alice moaned, a long, resonant moan, as the same pleasure crashed through her own body, her thighs trembling as if she were the one being eaten out. Tiffany felt her reaction, saw the way Alice pressed her own fingers between her legs, needing to match the sensation.

She knew it. She had ordered it. She cherished it.

Every lick Alice gave her, every kiss, every teasing flick of her tongue—she felt it as if it were happening to her own body. The mere thought of it amplified Tiffany’s experience many times over.

Tiffany moaned now. Deep and primal, allowing the sensations to overcome her.

Sydney’s lips latched onto her breast, sucking, swirling her tongue, and she jerked, her back arching as the heat intensified. Emelia’s hands smoothed over her stomach, her thighs, dragging lower, pressing, teasing, her breath hitching as the same arousal ripped through her own body.

Tiffany gasped, fisting Alice’s hair, pressing her closer, deeper.

“Yes,” she breathed raggedly. “Just like that.”

Alice whimpered, the sound muffled against Tiffany’s heat, her tongue moving frantically, desperate, wild.

Tiffany broke.

Her orgasm slammed into her, sharp, breathtaking, her entire body convulsing with the force of it. Alice shook, her own body shuddering violently as her climax mirrored Tiffany’s, making her sob against her.

Tiffany barely had time to catch her breath before she was gripping Sydney’s chin, pulling her up.

Sydney shuddered, eyes dark, lips parted, glistening from where she had been sucking Tiffany’s breast.

Sydney didn’t need to be told. She understood.

She slid down, replacing Alice, her tongue moving slow, deliberate, learning, mapping Tiffany’s pleasure like she was memorizing her.

Tiffany gasped, her head tipping back, her body shuddering as the pleasure built again.

Alice had moved to her side, pressing kisses to Tiffany’s collarbone, her fingers roaming, clutching. Emelia trailed down, her tongue teasing the curve of Tiffany’s hip, down further, until her lips closed around Tiffany’s toes, licking, sucking, sending a shock of pleasure straight to Tiffany’s core.

The heat was overwhelming.

Tiffany clenched around Sydney’s tongue, her breath hitching, her moan spilling into the air as another orgasm crashed over her, wrenching the breath from her lungs. Sydney shook, moaning against her, writhing as her own climax matched Tiffany’s, overtaking her.

Tiffany’s mind spun. Her body burned. She couldn’t direct them anymore, she couldn’t function as the pleasure penetrated every cell in her body.

And then Emelia was there, inches from her throbbing sex.

Her fingers pressed inside Tiffany first, slow, deep, teasing, tormenting. Tiffany groaned, pressing into it, moaning as Emelia curled her fingers just right, drawing the pleasure out, making it torturous.

Then, Emelia dove.

The first stroke of her tongue was merciless.

Tiffany screamed.

Her third orgasm wrecked her, sent her thrashing, shuddering, breaking beneath Emelia’s touch. Emelia gasped, shaking, whimpering as the pleasure mirrored in her own body, sending her spiraling into her own climax.

The world blurred.

Heat. Pleasure. Bliss.

Emelia vibrated but wouldn’t stop. Her tongue was irrepressible. Overwhelming.

Too much. Too intense. Tiffany felt like her mind was about to split open.

As if by survival instinct, she clicked her fingers.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And the entire room collapsed.

Bodies jerked. Gasps. Moans. Screams of pleasure. The final, ultimate climax, consuming all of them.

Emelia crumbled into a writhing mess of moans and cries, no longer able to overwhelm Tiffany’s senses. Alice and Sydney both retreated, too overwhelmed to continue their ministrations.

Tiffany felt it. The ripple of pleasure crashing through all of them at once, the raw, uncontrollable bliss overtaking every pleasure filled slave, every writhing body, every panting, dazed, wrecked worshiper.

And she smiled in purified bliss.

Utterly spent. Utterly worshipped.

Utterly divine.

“Time out… Everyone… Time out…” she murmured, voice shaking, ruined.

“That… was fucking glorious.”

For a few moments, there was relative silence.

Nothing but the sound of heavy, exhausted breathing.

Sweaty, tangled bodies. Shuddering limbs.

Pure, ruined devotion.

Tiffany lay sprawled, panting, grinning.

The room was a wreck of sweat, cum, and trembling, blissed-out bodies. Their breaths were ragged, their skin flushed, their limbs heavy, spent. Some of the slaves still had eyes locked with one another, as if communicating unfinished business. Most of them fell on Tiffany. Adoring, devoted, submissive stares.

And then, softly, Tiffany spoke.

“Crawl to me.”

A collective shudder ran through the room.

Tiffany exhaled, sitting up on the sofa, watching them react. Watching them sink further. Those not already on the floor sank to it, and those sprawled on their back shuffled onto their hands and knees.

They all crawled to Tiffany, in singular obedience, until they crowded around her in a semi circle in front of the couch.

Tiffany looked over her disciples and was filled with their love, their devotion.

Why did she ever fight this?

She exhaled deeply. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she still wanted to do.

But it was getting very late now. Just as her slaves had taken care of her, it was her time now to take care of them. It was time to tidy, time to reset, time to ensure everyone left with a smile on their face.

Her gaze flicked to Erin first. Her rock. Her original slave.

Tiffany reached for her collar, unbuckling it slowly, sliding it free.

As soon as it was gone, Erin gasped, a shiver running down her spine as her body snapped back to full autonomy.

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head, before grinning.

“Holy fuck, Mistress.” Erin let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through her damp hair, the pigtails long since having been pulled out. “That was… Jesus,” she exhaled, grinning wider. “Okay. Yeah. This is the best night of my life.”

Tiffany smirked. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” She twirled the collar in her fingers before setting it aside. “But now? We need to clean up.”

A flash of reluctance played across Erin’s face before she nodded in a conciliatory manner. “Yeah… We probably should.” She then looked adorably hopeful. “We’re doing this again, right?”

Tiffany gave her a look of amused exasperation and then turned her attention back to the collared slaves. She stood, stretching her arms over her head before surveying the apartment. It was a mess. A beautiful, decadent mess, but a mess nonetheless.

She exhaled sharply. “Listen up.”

The moment she spoke, every gathered slave straightened, eyes locking onto her, waiting.

Tiffany took a measured breath, then smiled.

Time to set the new foundation.

“The events of tonight will be erased from your conscious minds,” she said smoothly. “Everything from the moment spin the bottle got out of hand will be gone.”

A soft acknowledgment, almost imperceptible, rippled through them.

“You will that you had fun,” Tiffany continued. “You will that you drank, that you played games, that nothing untoward happened.”

Her voice lowered, richer now, deeper.

“But in reality, you will remain my sleeper agents,” she declared softly. “And in the new year, we’re going to see about expanding our reach, using you to create new sleeper agents. Carefully. Subtly. Without raising suspicion.”

The entranced figures absorbed her words, their bodies still, processing, accepting, obeying.

Tiffany smirked. “For now, I prefer you remain unaware of my control. It lowers the risk of leaks, or of someone resisting what a good thing we have going here. But when the right time comes, I will lift the veil, and you will all know who truly owns you.”

A shudder of acknowledgment rippled through the sweaty bodies.

“Now,” Tiffany clapped her hands lightly, “we can do this next part at ease. Shower. Get dressed. Take care of yourselves. Clean the apartment.” She gestured toward the mess on the floor, the slick evidence of exactly how much the night had spiraled into control. “You’ll find all your clothes folded neatly in the spare room. Maybe shower in pairs to save time? Have fun but don’t get too distracted now… Keep your collars on for all of this. We’ll take them off at the very end.”

The moment she finished speaking, the rapt attention of her slaves seemed to soften.

They started to move. Some standing up and stretching, some giggling with each other. Josh whispered something into Bobby’s ear and they both blushed.

The atmosphere was starkly different, as they all started chatting among themselves. Izzy declared very loudly that there better be some fucking pizza left. Josh and Bobby made a beeline for the bathroom, only just beating Alice and Trev to it. Marion and Libby were rummaging in the kitchen for cleaning supplies and Mike was simply standing in the middle of the room openly ogling all the naked bodies in an unironically shameless way.

Yet despite the veil of normalcy that now permeated the apart, the undercurrent of their reality still echoed in their behavior. Their attention flitted to Tiffany every few seconds. Watching her. Waiting for new instructions. If she rose to her feet and barked at them to kneel she was pretty sure every set of knees would hit the floor before she could take another breath.

A part of her was tempted to do it, just to enjoy the spectacle of their utter obedience, but she had already indulged gratuitously for one night. There would be ample other opportunities.

Hannah was speaking softly to Rose not too far away, and everyone else was making some sort of move to get themselves sorted.

Apart from Erin, who was on the sofa, staring at Tiffany with a Cheshire Cat grin.

“Doesn’t your mouth get sore from doing that so much?” Tiffany smirked at Erin.

“It’s worth it,” Erin replied. “It’s all been worth it.”

“So you don’t care that I’ve been lying to you this whole time?” Tiffany said, her gaze somewhat sly.

“Tiff,” Erin said bluntly, “the sex over the last few weeks has been incredible.” She slammed her fist into the sofa repeatedly, then closed her eyes and shivered, as if reviewing a highlight reel in her head. Then she stilled, and opened her eyes, a somewhat feverish look in her gaze as she whispered. ”Incredible.”

Tiffany watched Erin with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, waiting for her to continue.

“And I was always a bit fuzzy over how you kept flipping my switch so intensely…” Erin became introspective now. “How we would be just doing our thing or starting to mess around, and then I’m suddenly fucking gushing for you… I never quite understood why but now I know… You were revealing how fucking total your control was, not just over me bit over all these sexy fuckers.” Erin gestured to the room. “It makes perfect sense now. I’d forget the revelation, but I wouldn’t forget the sex craved nympho you turned me into every time.”

“I’m glad you’re not mad,” Tiffany said gratefully, stroking Erin’s hair. “Honestly, it was a lot of fun.”

Erin melted into Tiffany’s touch, closing her eyes and sighing happily. “You keep on having your fun, Mistress,” she purred. “It’s working for me.”

“Oh, so you still want to forget all this still? Go back to being unaware?” Tiffany tilted her head in curiosity.

“What?!” Erin opened her eyes and protested. “Fuck no! We’ve crossed the fucking Rubicon now, Tiff!” She grabbed both of Tiffany’s hands and squeezed them. “I want to tonight. I want to know and just how much you fucking own me.”

She then shook her head and flashed another grin. “What I mean is that I want you to do whatever you want in the name of fun. It’s been a fucking wild ride with you so far, and I am here for it.”

Tiffany squeezed Erin’s hands back. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah!” Erin affirmed. “Mould my mind, play with my memory. I’m your toy, your fuckdoll. I’m anything you want me to be.” She then bowed her head slightly, a level of sincerity entering her eyes and her tone that Erin didn’t often wear. “I’m yours. Completely.”

Tiffany pulled Erin towards her and their lips met in a deep, meaningful kiss, the hands running over each other’s naked bodies, pleasure tingling through their senses.

Tiffany considered reassuring Erin that she was hers as well, an affirmation that she hadn’t been programmed the same way as everyone else, that at the end of the day, they were equals, and only their dynamic gave them hierarchy.

But it wasn’t true. Every action and choice Erin had made that evening was made to solidify her place at Tiffany’s feet. She not only propped Tiffany up in her wavering moments, but she had kept herself down in the moments she could have stood on level ground. The truth was Erin didn’t want to be an equal in their relationship, she wanted to kneel. Tiffany had fought that idea for a long time, telling herself that when push came to shove, Erin could say no to Tiffany’s control, that she could walk away when needed, that she was still her own person choosing to kneel when she could still stand.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” Tiffany purred as she gently pulled away, cupping Erin’s face and keeping them mere inches apart. “We’re going to play such fun little games…”

Erin shuddered with arousal. With submission. With belonging.

A small part of Tiffany felt a pang of sadness. It felt that this path they were going down together made Erin feel less like her girlfriend and more like her obedient fucktoy, but that was what made Erin happy, and Tiffany knew that she wanted to give Erin a lifetime of happiness. Besides… Obedient fucktoys were lovely things to own, and who’s to say she couldn’t pursue a more equal footed relationship if she met the right person? If she even wanted such a thing…

“Whatever you want, Mistress,” Erin said after a happy sigh.

“Whatever I want?” Tiffany tilted her head.

“Yes,” Erin said. “You’re the Mistress. You’re everyone’s Mistress. If you want something…” Erin’s lips formed a wicked smile, “Take it.”

Tiffany mulled this over. Whatever she wanted…

She had the Algorithm, and the ability to reshape minds as she saw fit. But Erin was proof that she could nurture obedience without needing to brainwash it into someone, and Emelia was proof that her dominating nature could be seductive and alluring without her ever getting the Algorithm involved.

What she wanted was to fix her problems without relying on brainwashing them into submission, wherever possible.

Because the Algorithm, at its best, was a tool of finesse, not a cudgel for every situation.

Tiffany exhaled softly, watching as Izzy and Mike disappeared into the showers, not making any secret of what they were planning to do in there. As Marion, Alice, Sydney and Libby worked on mopping the floor and upholstery, the apartment started to smell less of sweat and lust, the only thing truly lingering in the atmosphere being something else—satisfaction. Tiffany’s victory was absolute. Her control was undeniable.

And yet, there was one loose end dangling at the back of her mind. A niggle among her satisfaction. The one thing she hadn’t won.

“Give me a minute…” Tiffany murmured to Erin. Erin simply nodded briskly, watching Tiffany with a curious expression.

Tiffany turned toward Hannah. The redhead stood with Rose, still naked, still wearing her collar, but no longer kneeling. No longer enthralled in that same haze of pleasure. She was whispering reassurances to Rose, stroking her arm, her gaze steady.

“Hannah,” Tiffany murmured, getting up from the sofa, stepping towards her.

Hannah’s body tensed slightly, ready to obey, ready to kneel. Rose, too, turned to face Tiffany with reverence, ready to act on her command at a moment’s notice .

“Lucy,” Tiffany said in a very deliberate tone, “could I have a moment with Hannah please?”

None of them were under the illusion that it was anything but a rhetorical question.

Rose bowed her head. “Of course, Mistress.”

As Rose departed for the kitchen, Hannah’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before snapping back to Tiffany. A docile smile settled on her lips as she looked at Tiffany with adoration. “How may I serve you, Mistress?”

Tiffany lifted a hand and let her fingers slip into the girl’s vibrant curls, stroking them slowly. Gentle. Reverent. As if petting something precious.

Then, softly, she leaned in and kissed Hannah’s forehead.

A sigh. Almost a shudder.

When Tiffany pulled back, her voice was quiet, tender. “Did you mean what you said earlier? That we could never be friends again?”

Hannah didn’t answer immediately. She lowered her gaze, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Speak freely,” Tiffany commanded softly. “Please.”

Hannah’s face ed the order, her expression hardening slightly. Then, finally—“I don’t see how we could be, Mistress.”

”No.” Tiffany’s fingers paused in Hannah’s hair. “Stop with the Mistress this and obedience that. Talk to me honestly as if you weren’t wearing the collar, and tell me why not.”

Hannah inhaled sharply, as if holding back something raw. “Do I really have to spell it out for you, Tiff?“ She grabbed Tiffany’s wrists and firmly pushed her hands out of her hair. ”Because you’ve won. You’ve beaten everyone who could have stopped you. You don’t have friends anymore. You have slaves.”

Silence.

Tiffany felt that line sink into her, heavier than she expected.

“The only way we could be friends again,” Hannah continued, voice biting, “is if you brainwashed me into believing we were. If you rewrote my memories, forced me to forget what you’ve done, what you’ve become. If you planted the idea in my head that everything is rosy between us, then erased your own memory of doing it so we could both play pretend. That’s the only way.” She exhaled sharply. Her voice was not unkind, but it was firm. “And you know it.”

Tiffany pulled her hands out of Hannah’s grip and balled them into fists, shaking her head with determination.

“…No.” Tiffany’s voice was steel. “I won’t do that.”

Hannah blinked, caught off guard.

Tiffany tilted her head, watching her. “There is always another option. What would it take? What would I need to do?”

Hannah hesitated. Swallowed. Then, she lifted her gaze, steady and unwavering.

“I want you to understand,” she said simply. “To truly understand what I went through. What it’s like to lose everything. To feel powerless. To feel your mind, your choices, your very self slip away, and to be turned into something you fear and hate, but that you still prefer to who you were before…”

Tiffany arched a brow. “So… what? You want me to put myself under the Algorithm?”

“No,” Hannah shook her head, her voice steady. “I want control. Of you. Of the Algorithm. Of everything. Then I could show you.”

Tiffany let out a low chuckle. “Ah. So you don’t want us to be equals. You want to reverse our roles.”

“I’d be better than you,” Hannah said, eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t give in to it. I wouldn’t let it corrupt me. I would still foster trust. Real friendships. I wouldn’t let power make me—” She stopped. Grit her teeth. “I wouldn’t become like you.”

Tiffany’s smirk deepened. “Oh, Hannah. You really think you’d be incorruptible?” She tilted her head. “You think you’d hold complete control over everyone here and not eventually succumb to it? That you wouldn’t be tempted to push, just a little further, a little deeper?” She stepped closer, her voice a whisper. “You think you wouldn’t love it?”

Hannah swallowed but didn’t break eye . “I wouldn’t let it consume me the way it’s consumed you.”

“Bullshit,” Tiffany said bluntly. “The Algorithm corrupts everything it touches, Hannah. It’s not a failing on your part that you’d be no different, it’s the way it is.”

“We’ll never know,” Hannah replied.

Tiffany’s amusement flickered into something sharper. Something intrigued.

“Unless I give up control to you. Here. Now. That’s it? That’s what would fix things between us?”

Hannah frowned, a wave of confusion sweeping across her. “No. That wouldn’t actually do it. I don’t want you to just give it to me out of pity or some desperate need for validation.”

“You want to take it from me,” Tiffany murmured.

Hannah exhaled. “Yes. I want to beat you for it. I want to win. I want to prove that if I had been in your place from the start, I would have been better than you.”

Tiffany’s pulse quickened. A challenge. An actual, real challenge.

She smiled. “And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

Hannah’s lips parted, then shut. She hesitated. “I’m not sure how. It’s not exactly a level playing field, is it?” she finally muttered. “You already have everything. Your slaves. Your control. I have nothing.”

Tiffany hummed, considering. Then, slowly, she nodded. “That’s true.”

She turned, walking toward the kitchen, retrieving a glass of water and taking a slow sip as she mulled it over.

Then, she smirked.

“Alright, then. Let’s make it a game. A real one. One where the playing field is even. We’ll set rules. We’ll set stakes. If you win, you get it all—the Algorithm, my slaves, my power. You get to prove that you can do what I couldn’t.”

Hannah’s eyes flickered. “And if you win?”

Tiffany’s smirk deepened. “Then I’ll alter your memories. I’ll make you believe we’re friends again. I’ll make you love me again.”

“But you could just do that now, Tiff…” Hannah squinted in confusion. “You could risk nothing and have your win condition. And because you’re not getting what you want in either condition. It makes no sense.”

“It does to me.” Tiffany shrugged, before starting to count on her fingers. “Firstly, if you win, and it’s a big if, you get what you want, you get to take the Algorithm from me, winning it fair and square. And then you get to see if you can control it without becoming like me.”

Hannah looked at Tiffany with bewilderment. “Why? Why even offer this, Tiffany?”

Tiffany sighed. “I don’t know how to spell it out any clearer for you, Han… I want you back, I want us to be friends again. And if these are the hoops I need to jump through to prove that to you, then so be it.” She threw her arms up to her sides, then back down. “And if you do become like me, if you cross the lines you never thought you’d cross… Then you’ll finally understand what I’ve been through, and then we’ll be in this exact position we are now.”

“But in reverse,” Hannah murmured, understanding dawning on her.

“And at that point you’re not willing to give me a chance to take the power back like I’m doing with you now, then you’ll never be able to call yourself better than me. You could keep me as your slave, erase me, destroy me, but I’ll still have won.”

A slow, deep breath from Hannah. Tiffany could see it; the moment she realized.

“The only way I prove I’m better than you is by giving up the power once I have it… Tiff, that’s diabolical.” Hannah shook her head in disgust, but Tiffany could see there was a twinkle in Hannah’s eye, a flicker of iration. “Either way, you win.”

“That’s not how I see it,” Tiffany said, a shaky breath causing her to pause a moment. “Either we both win, or we both lose.”

“But if I know the game, my choice will be based on winning it, not actually making the right choice.” Hannah fidgeted with her hands, her discomfort growing.

Tiffany smirked. “Well yeah, part of making it a level playing field will involve wiping both of our memories, so we don’t know we’re playing.”

Hannah shook her head. “No, Tiff, this is insane! The fact that we’re playing games about this is insane. Wiping our memories of it? You don’t need to do all that. You can just let the power go. Let everyone go. Let me go.”

”I can’t do that, Hannah,” Tiffany said solemnly. “And even if I did, would we be friends then?”

Hannah looked like she was on the verge of tears. She didn’t want to say the words that spilled out of her honest lips. “No, we wouldn’t.”

“And are you scared that if we do this, you’ll win but you’ll lose? Take the Algorithm, be twisted by it, be no better than me, keep me enslaved, and then we both lose…”

”I’m terrified.”

“Then it you’re not better than me,” Tiffany said, coaxingly.

Hannah squared her shoulders. “Fine.”

Tiffany inhaled a deep breath and opened her mouth to reply, but Hannah continued.

“I accept. I’ll play your game.”

Tiffany felt something dark and thrilling coil in her chest. “Okay then.”

“But Tiff?” Hannah added, a new edge to her voice.

“Yeah?” Tiffany tilted her head in curiosity.

“If we get to the point where I’ve given you back the Algorithm and I still don’t want to be your friend…”

“Then I’ll finally accept that even with all the power I have, there are some things I just can’t control,” Tiffany said gravely.

“I worry for you that you don’t already believe that, Tiff,” Hannah said, mirroring Tiffany’s tone. “Even with all the power in the world, you can’t force people to love you. Not genuinely.”

Tiffany thought up a dozen different replies, but they all felt like playing into Hannah’s hand. Instead, she let it go and allowed a new idea into her head.

“You know,” she murmured, swirling the water in her glass, “I actually had something in mind for Christmas. A little… transformation play session for Erin and me. But I think it can be repurposed as part of our game.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Tiffany’s smirk didn’t falter. “You’ll see. We’ll discuss the game more another night. For now, back to happy slave mode with you, you need to go shower still and everything.”

The transformation over Hannah’s face was instant. Her wit and personality were still there, but the filter that the collar placed over it filled her eyes with adoration and placed a smile on her lips. “Of course, Mistress.”

She watched as Hannah made her way over to Rose, leading them both to the showers as Mike and Izzy emerged with satisfaction oozing off their faces.

She then turned back to see Erin sprawled out across the sofa, watching her carefully.

Erin propped herself up on one elbow, her lazy smirk returning. “Why do you even care what she thinks, Mistress?” Her voice was hoarse, raw from everything they’d just done. “She’s just another slave. They all are.”

Tiffany exhaled, slow and thoughtful, before tilting her head at Erin. “Then why do you care what I think?”

Erin blinked.

“You belong to me.” Tiffany’s voice was smooth, deliberate. “So by your own logic, my approval should be all that matters to you. My desires. My whims. And yet…” She smiled, amused. “You still care. You still feel something beyond pure obedience, don’t you?”

Erin hesitated. Then huffed out a breath, looking away. “Maybe.”

Tiffany nodded. “That’s why.”

Erin frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

“Sure it is.” Tiffany chuckled, kneeling beside her. “Hannah matters because I want her to matter. That’s all the reason I need.” She motioned Erin to make room on the sofa.

“But is she worth risking it all?” Erin suggested as she contracted to one side so Tiffany could sit.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “And besides… I don’t actually know why this is so important to me.” She frowned, the ission leaving an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. “I mean, in the grand scheme of things, I have bigger goals, bigger victories ahead of me. This is just—”

She cut herself off, shaking her head.

“But it does matter.”

Her voice dropped, almost like she was itting something to herself more than to Erin. “It almost feels like a test. Like… proof of something.”

Erin arched a brow. “Proof of what?”

Tiffany didn’t answer right away.

Then, finally: “That I still have a soul.”

The air between them was still.

Erin’s smirk faltered. “Tiff—”

“Can I get there?” Tiffany interrupted, more to herself than to Erin. “Can I get to a point where, without any direct programming, without the Algorithm forcing her hand, Hannah and I could actually be friends again?”

Her fingers curled around the pendant. “I don’t want to win with brainwashing. That’s too easy. The Algorithm is only a tool. The prize. The stakes. The temptation. But the victory… that has to be real.”

Erin watched her carefully. “You really think you can do that?”

Tiffany let out a slow, amused breath. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Then her smirk returned, just a little sharper now. “Besides… I’ve actually been working on something. A fun little treat for you and me. It was supposed to be a surprise for Christmas…”

Erin perked up, intrigued despite herself. “Yeah, I heard you mention that to her.”

“But this might actually be the perfect way to implement it.” Tiffany’s eyes gleamed. “Something to make our game… interesting.”

Erin swallowed, heart pounding. “Okay, but—” She hesitated, her stomach twisting with something complicated. “If Hannah wins—”

“Then she gets it all.” Tiffany’s voice was smooth, effortless. “Everything. The Algorithm. The power.”

She turned to Erin, her smirk widening. “And you.”

Erin froze. “Me?”

“You belong to me.” Tiffany’s voice was soft, but absolute. “You’re property. An object. A prize.”

She reached out, trailing her fingers over Erin’s collarbone, watching her shiver. “If Hannah wins, then you—and everyone else—become hers. To free, to erase, to brainwash as she pleases.”

Erin’s breath hitched.

God.

That did things to her.

The way Tiffany said it. So casual. So absolute. Like Erin’s entire existence was just another piece on the board. A pawn to be wagered.

A part of her hated it.

Another part—

A much bigger part—

Was absolutely wrecked by it.

“Fuck, Mistress…” Erin exhaled, her body burning with heat and confusion. “I… I don’t like the idea of not having you… but—”

Her fingers curled against the floor, her thighs pressing together. “But the fact that you’re willing to bet me like that is so fucking twisted hot.”

Tiffany’s smirk curled into something knowing.

“Of course it is.”

A shiver ran through her. She clenched her thighs. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

Tiffany gave her a knowing glance. “Enjoying the idea?”

Erin swallowed. “I think you know.”

Tiffany’s smile deepened. “For now, though, I’ll need to keep your sleeper programming intact. At least until the game is over.”

Erin shuddered.

Her mind swam with conflicting emotions.

She knew she had surrendered all control. She knew she existed to serve. To obey. To please.

But this…

This was something else.

Something terrifying.

Something thrilling.

And she was about to forget just how deliciously deep in the thrall of control she was.

Again.

“I just hope,” Erin whispered, licking her lips, “that you know what you’re doing.”

Tiffany grinned.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

She leaned in, lips brushing against Erin’s ear.

“It’s going to be a fun game.”

Erin shuddered, letting the anticipation wash over her. She reached over to grab Tiffany’s waist, but Tiffany intercepted her hand, bringing it up to her lips with a sly smile.

Erin bit her lip. ”And once you win, or if you win, I guess… What then?”

Tiffany took a deep breath in, kissing Erin’s hand softly before speaking.

“In the new year, the committee will vote to allow us both back into the fold,” Tiffany explained, holding Erin’s hand in place as she idly ran a finger in circles over her skin. “And miraculously, votes will stop being deadlocked. Vetoes will disappear. And every single vote will go in my favor. And it will feel natural. Normal.”

Erin took a slow breath, then exhaled, a grin of satisfaction spreading across her lips.

“Why not just program them into being obedient and aware, Mistress?”

“Because I don’t want to do it that way,” Tiffany said with a slight shrug. “I prefer them to be as themselves as possible, until I click the collars around their necks for another session like this one…”

“God, I literally cannot wait,” Erin whispered in reverence.

“Of course, that time I might crave a collar around my neck too, to feel the bliss of submission that you all got to experience tonight.”

“And who’ll wear the pendant then?” Erin asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“We’ll find out.” Tiffany curled her fingers under Erin’s chin. “Now, sweet Erin, be a good girl and get yourself sorted. We need to round things up here.”

With one final kiss, Erin rose from the sofa. “Shower with me, Mistress?” she said hopefully.

“Not this time,” Tiffany said. “There’s someone I need to talk to.“

Tiffany got up from the sofa and walked over to Marion, who was setting up Josh’s dehumidifier to help the carpet dry from where warm soapy water had been used to clean it.

Tiffany placed a hand on Marion’s shoulder, giving her a look. Marion’s gaze met here and she instantly nodded in understanding.

“Mistress,” was all she said as she rose to her feet and followed Tiffany to the recently vacated bathroom.

Already naked, it didn’t take long before they were stepping into the steamy walk in shower.

The moment the hot spray hit Tiffany’s skin, she let out a slow, indulgent sigh. The heat cascaded down her body, washing away the sweat, the scent of sex, the lingering intoxication of victory.

Behind her, Marion dropped to her knees.

She knelt in the steam, silent, reverent, awaiting instruction. Tiffany ran her hands through her damp dark hair, rolling her neck, before glancing down.

“Get to work, sweetie.”

Marion obeyed instantly.

Getting to her feet, she reached for the bottle of body wash. Popping it open with a soft click, she poured a generous amount into her hands, her gaze always returning to meet Tiffany’s eyes. She rubbed her palms together, working the soap into a rich, creamy lather before pressing them reverently against Tiffany’s back.

Her touch was deliberate. Worshipful.

She massaged the suds into Tiffany’s skin, smoothing over tense shoulders, down the elegant curve of her spine, over the taut muscles of her lower back. Her hands were soft but firm, kneading and stroking, lingering in places she suspected her Mistress would enjoy.

Tiffany exhaled through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment as she let the good girl serve.

Marion worked her way lower, trailing lathered fingers over Tiffany’s thighs, kneading the smooth muscles before sliding further down. She reached her Mistress’s feet, pausing only briefly before lowering herself fully onto her stomach, pressing a kiss to the top of Tiffany’s foot before licking along the delicate arch..

Tiffany smirked, watching through hooded eyes as Marion worshiped her feet, licking and sucking at her toes with fervent, adoring attention.

Marion’s tongue traced higher, over her ankle, her calf, her thigh. She took her time, building anticipation, teasing, savoring every inch of Tiffany’s body as she made her way towards Tiffany’s wet and waiting pussy.

Tiffany let out a breathy chuckle. “Do you our little chat on the ride over here, Marion?” she asked smoothly, voice rich with amusement. “Is this what you were afraid of?”

Marion hesitated—only for a second—before nodding. “Yes, Mistress.”

Tiffany smirked. “And now? How do you feel?”

Marion moaned softly, pressing her lips more firmly against Tiffany’s inner thigh in response. She moved up, her lips brushing over Tiffany’s pussy lips, before pulling back slightly, looking up, and saying. “I feel wonderful, Mistress.” Some of the spray and water was hitting her, cascading down her ebony skin, making it gleam in the misty light.

Tiffany hummed, tilting her head slightly, considering.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she murmured, running her fingers through Marion’s soaked hair as she guided her up, pulling her to her feet.

Marion obeyed, breath shaky, eyes glazed.

Tiffany tilted her chin up. “Because I have a plan for you.”

Marion visibly shivered.

As if instinctively, her lips parted, pressing reverent kisses to Tiffany’s collarbone, her breath hot against her skin. Then lower, mouth latching onto Tiffany’s breast, sucking slow, deep, adoring.

Tiffany sighed, petting her hair, letting her play.

“Listen carefully,” she said, her voice still as calm and measured as ever.

Marion moaned softly around the peak of Tiffany’s breast before reluctantly pulling back to listen, licking her lips as she gazed up at her Mistress with glassy, entranced devotion.

“You and Erin live together,” Tiffany murmured. “I might be there a lot, but I’m not always…”

“You’re always welcome, Mistress,” Marion murmured reverently. “Whether or not I know I’m your slave, my apartment is your apartment.”

“You’re very sweet,” Tiffany whispered in her ear. “But I sense there’s more to you than just a submissive toy. And the way things are looking, I’m about to have a lot more on my plate, so I want to ensure Erin is well taken care of.”

Tiffany drew back, so she could lock eyes with Marion. She let her fingers trail over the wet leather of Marion’s collar, as she spoke in a tone of utmost certainty. “One day soon… you’re going to accidentally come across something interesting. One of my pendants.”

Marion gasped softly, her hands tightening on Tiffany’s waist.

Tiffany smirked. “It will feel natural to you to put it on. You’ll wear it often. It’ll make you feel… different. More confident. More powerful. More seductive.” She brushed her fingers under Marion’s chin. “You’ll start feeling… dominant. Not towards me, but certainly towards everyone else.”

Marion shuddered.

Tiffany grazed her nails down her back, watching the goosebumps rise on Marion’s wet skin.

“Erin will soon notice,” she continued. “And if she happens to become curious enough to slip on her collar? Then you’ll have complete control of her.”

Marion let out a quiet, desperate moan.

“You’ll start training her for me,” Tiffany purred. “A few hours each day. Teaching her to cook. To clean. To serve.” She leaned in, lips grazing Marion’s ear. “To obey.”

Marion whimpered.

Tiffany chuckled, pulling back slightly, watching the way Marion’s entire body trembled with anticipation.

“She’s already a very good girl. But when wearing my collar, she could be even more perfect…” Tiffany murmured. “You’ll do a good job, won’t you?”

Marion nodded slowly, biting her lip. “Absolutely, Mistress! I’ll make her… perfect for you. I’ll make sure she’s the best she can be, I’ll train her every day, I’ll—”

Tiffany clicked her fingers.

Marion gasped sharply, eyes snapping open as pure, rapturous pleasure burst through her body. She arched, trembling, panting, eyes rolling back for just a moment as the pleasure surged through her.

Tiffany held her close, watching with satisfaction as she shuddered in her arms, feeling the deep, visceral joy of her Mistress’s approval.

When the aftershocks faded, Marion collapsed against Tiffany’s chest, panting, shaking with devotion.

Tiffany smirked. “Good girl.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Marion sighed.

“Now then, I believe you were about to start something down there...” Tiffany smirked.

Marion’s eyes lit up with anticipation. She wordlessly lowered herself to her knees and wrapped her mouth over Tiffany’s cunt as the water washed over them both.

Before long, Tiffany found herself standing by the kitchen island, casting her gaze over her lovely little sleeper agents. All of them were in trance, fully clothed, collars removed. Tiffany herself was back in her blazer, shirt, and smart pants, yet somehow it all felt a lot less comfortable than it had at the start of the night.

Funny, that.

She shook her amused head and gave the apartment one last sweep. It truly was spotless. All collars tucked away with her Mistress outfit. Nodding in approval, she then clapped her hands three times.

All at once, the shift was seamless.

Conversations restarted mid-sentence, bodies relaxed, the remnants of exhaustion and bliss filtered out by the conscious minds, even if subconsciously everyone seemed distinctly more satisfied than they had before. The air, once thick with sweat and sex, became just another post-party haze. No one could notice the missing time. No one questioned the sense of contentment that now filled the room.

Because to them, nothing had happened. Tiffany had spent a fair few minutes crafting the rest of the evening from the moment of Izzy’s outburst onwards. She had let everyone just up to the point where Tiffany had asked Izzy if she was done, because that felt like too cool of a moment to erase. But the veiled confession, Erin stripping and kneeling… The, ahem, orgy… All of that was now buried, to be revealed again if and when Tiffany decided upon it.

Josh was laughing, talking to Bobby about a game they had definitely played earlier. Trev and Mike were raiding the fridge together, hunting for leftover pizza. Alice was stretching, rubbing her neck absently, while Izzy and Libby were chatting away happily as if they hadn’t scissored each other into screaming sweaty messes on the very sofa they now sat on.

It was eerily perfect.

Tiffany leaned against the kitchen island, watching them. Watching her work. It was the same place where she had made that final appeal to Erin. To change her course. To help her find her conscience before she let go of it completely.

And now? She felt zero guilt.

It wasn’t long before the subconscious programming to let the night end kicked in. Josh stretched with a satisfied sigh, then grabbed Bobby’s wrist and started tugging him toward the bedroom. “We’re crashing. If anyone wants the spare room or sofa, go for it. Just… don’t be louder than us.”

A few knowing chuckles rippled through the room. Alice made an exaggerated disgusted noise. “Dude. Gross.”

Josh flipped them all off with a cheeky grin before disappearing into his room with Bobby, slamming the door behind them.

Hannah was already pulling on her coat when Rose—no, it was Lucy again… No more ambiguity—stepped beside her, looking a little hesitant but willing. “I’m walking Lucy back to her dorm,” Hannah said, her voice level, calm. “I’ll probably just sleep there tonight.”

She hesitated, shifting on her feet. Then, as if deciding something last minute, she added, “Tiff. I’m glad we… talked earlier.”

There was a lot unspoken in that sentence. Layers under layers. But it was something.

Tiffany met her gaze, searching for anything beyond the tension and buried resentment. And… there was something. Small, fragile. But real. Hope.

She nodded. “Me too.”

Hannah didn’t linger. She gave a short nod and turned toward the door, leading Lucy out into the night.

Alice and Trev were next. Trev, ever the people person, made a point to hug everyone. Alice, slightly exasperated but smiling, followed suit.

Before Alice could step through the door, Tiffany caught her by the wrist.

“Hey.” Tiffany’s voice was quiet, just for her.

Alice blinked. “Yeah?”

Tiffany hesitated, then asked, “Are you and Trev okay? After the… y’know. Spin the bottle. Rose… Lucy kissing Trev.”

Alice’s expression softened into something almost grateful.

“We’re good,” she said with certainty. “We talked it out. Actually talked, without shouting over each other. And… I dunno. It helped. I think we’ve finally figured out how to just… listen.”

Tiffany smiled knowingly. Because that was the only thing she had secretly changed in them. Not their feelings, not their trust—just their ability to stop interrupting each other.

“Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Tiffany said with a somewhat smug smile..

Alice tilted her head, curious at the reaction, but didn’t question it. Instead, she just smiled and gave Tiffany a genuine hug before heading out.

Next was Sydney. Living next door, her exit was easy. But she lingered, just slightly, her gaze on Tiffany, thoughtful.

Tiffany met her eyes, unreadable, smirking just a little.

Sydney said nothing.

Then she left.

Tiffany had barely turned when Mike shoved Izzy towards her.

Izzy stumbled before quickly regaining her balance, shooting Mike a murderous glare. “You’re dead.”

Mike just grinned. “Go on.”

Tiffany, genuinely surprised, arched an eyebrow. She hadn’t programmed either of them to do… whatever this was.

Izzy’s jaw clenched. She hated this. Hated being put in this position. But she exhaled sharply, stared Tiffany straight in the eyes, and said, “I’m sorry. For my outburst earlier.”

It was stiff. Unnatural. Forced. But real.

Tiffany took a second before answering, still studying her. Then, because it felt right, she inclined her head slightly and said, “I’m sorry too. I was trying to get a rise out of you. I it that.”

Izzy squinted at her, then—to Tiffany’s complete shock—smirked.

“I baited you first. You played hardball. I shoulda took it on the chin instead of whining like a girl…” Izzy said bitterly, evidently annoyed at herself now more than Tiffany.

“Honestly, I’ve had worse games of spin the bottle...” Tiffany smiled faintly.

”The solution’s simple,” Izzy said coolly, her voice dripping with danger. “If Mike ever puts his lips on another woman again, I’ll cut them off.”

Mike made a choking sound. “Babe—”

Izzy grabbed his jaw. Hard. “Better then,” she purred, sickly sweet, “that I put them to good use.”

Mike audibly swallowed.

Then, without another word, Izzy grabbed him by his dreadlocks and yanked him toward the door.

Tiffany laughed. Genuinely, brightly, watching them go. Funny that she only forced them to go on one date and give it a genuine chance. Everything since then had been all them…

Libby and Marion weren’t far behind, departing together after a few final goodbyes.

And then there were three.

Tiffany leaned against the kitchen island, rolling an empty glass in her fingers, watching Emelia carefully. Erin was sprawled on the couch, looking as thoroughly wrecked as she deserved to be after everything tonight. But Tiffany was still composed. Still in control. And Emelia? Well.

She was still here.

That was all the confirmation Tiffany needed.

“Alright,” Tiffany said smoothly, breaking the comfortable, charged silence. “Erin’s gonna call Gob. He’ll swing by in his Uber, pick us up, and we’ll head back to mine.” She set her glass down with a small, decisive clink. “I want you to come with us.”

Emelia blinked, her grip tightening around her own cup. Even now, even after everything, Tiffany could still see the war in her expression—the deep, growing temptation versus that stubborn little voice whispering that she was getting in too deep.

Tiffany smiled. Adorable.

“I can’t promise much sleep,” Tiffany continued smoothly, her voice low and warm, letting the weight of her words settle between them. “But you’d get to see what Erin and I have up close. No pressure. No obligations. Just an invitation. You decide how much you want to in.”

Emelia swallowed, her cheeks flushing deeply. She shifted on her feet, caught between excitement and outright panic. “I—” She hesitated. Her eyes flicked to Erin, who was watching them both with open amusement, biting her lip as if barely containing herself.

Finally, Emelia exhaled, shaking her head. “I appreciate it,” she murmured, then let out a nervous little laugh. “Really, I do. But this… this feels big. Like… I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.”

Tiffany tilted her head, considering her. Then she pivoted.

“Fair,” she itted. “So let’s do this instead.” She walked towards her, just enough to make Emelia’s breath hitch, but not close enough to touch. Not yet. “We go on a date first. A real one. Just us. And then you and Erin will go on your own date, too.” She smirked. “And when both of those go well, you’ll have reconsidered.”

Emelia narrowed her eyes slightly, her lips parting in mild offense. “You’re that sure about it?”

Tiffany’s smirk deepened. “I am.”

Emelia’s blush darkened. She exhaled sharply, biting the inside of her cheek, and then—almost begrudgingly—nodded. “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “One date.”

Tiffany’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Two, actually.”

Emelia rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

The air between them vibrated with tension. It would’ve been easy—so easy—to close the space between them. To let a single touch, a single lingering brush of fingers, send Emelia hurtling over the edge into the inevitable.

But Tiffany didn’t.

Instead, she let the tension coil. Let it build. Let Emelia feel the weight of it pressing down on her, thick and inescapable.

Then—

“Alright, calling Gob,” Erin announced, reaching for her phone.

But before she could dial, Emelia let out a quiet, almost frustrated sigh. “Actually…” she murmured. “I have my car parked outside.”

Tiffany’s smile was slow. Knowing. “Do you?”

Emelia fidgeted. “Yeah, I… I can just drive you home.”

Tiffany hummed, tilting her head, studying her. “That’s very kind of you, Emelia.”

Emelia swallowed. “But it’s just a lift, alright?”

Tiffany’s smirk curled into something deeper. Something victorious. She knew.

“Alright.”

By the end of that drive, Emelia wouldn’t be resisting anymore. By the time the sun rose, she’d be on her knees, her tongue buried in Tiffany’s cunt, her moans vibrating against Tiffany’s skin as she fully, finally surrendered. And it would be from pure temptation, no Algorithm needed. Emelia was a sleeper agent now, but that just meant that the details of Izzy’s outburst—her transformation at the hands of Ross, Lucy’s erasure—had slipped from her mind.

Her decisions, albeit less informed, were still her own.

Tiffany stepped back, turning toward the door, her smirk never faltering. “Well then,” she purred, flicking Erin a glance. “Looks like we’ve got our ride.”

Erin grinned. “Oh, Gob’s loss I guess.” As she sauntered past Emelia to grab her coat, she teasingly added, “Your gain, babe.”

Emelia let out another breath, shaking her head as she led the way out the door, her steps quick and her face burning.

Tiffany just smiled.

It was one thing to have a plan, to think you know what you’re going to do. Emelia was holding onto that.

But Tiffany knew exactly how the night was going to end.

At the threshold of the apartment, she looked back at the empty space and couldn’t help but cast her mind back to that day she had wandered in to find Erin entranced for the very first time.

She had no idea what she was getting tangled up in back then.

If she had known then what she knew now…

A small smile crept onto her lips.

…She wouldn’t change a thing.