"You Can't Go Wrong with a Simple Stroke Story"
By Leigh Malheur

Mila came back from the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee, which she placed carefully distant from her $120 keyboard. Making a tiny, annoyed sound, she clicked the "go away" button on the automatic update window, then settled in to take a look at the "draft" � really more of a glorified outline � that she'd completed a few moments ago. As she did, Mila felt a twinge of regret that her first use of the "awesome writing program" her friend Kaylie had "just had sitting in the back burner for years, but, at this point, might as well share it with someone" was something so ludicrous and overwrought. But, hey, whatever got her going, she thought, as she began to read.

After two years of competitive gaming, only the bank and her family still called her Alicia. Everyone else just knew her by her handle � Vyxen. She'd regretted the name at first, as it made her sound like a second-tier comic book villain. But she'd grown to love being Vyxen. It pissed off a lot of gamerboys that she was so sexy and kept beating them. That was tiresome. She'd thought about retiring and just making the alt-modeling gig full-time. But after the power she'd woken up with today, she wasn't sure she needed a job at all.

Vyxen lived in a modest duplex house in the inner suburbs. She took the upper half, while Chloe took the lower. She'd never really gotten to know the gorgeous blonde angel downstairs, though they often exchanged pleasantries when meeting on the stairs. She just didn't think Chloe had a lot in common with her. At least she was quiet, though � well, mostly. Unless she had a boy over. But Vyxen's girlfriends were often pretty loud, too, so she supposed that was only fair.

When she'd awakened this morning, though, the goth-gamer's priorities shifted pretty fast. Her eyes were supposed to be blue; now they were swirling, gently pulsing violet orbs that almost self-tranced her in the mirror. Her boobs were about double the size and weight as they used to be, too, but they didn't seem to throw off her stride � so, that was a decidedly secondary priority to the fact that Chloe was wasted on boys. Vyxen knew she needed to get her housemate to look into her eyes. That would be too easy, she thought, as she awkwardly forced a demon-red top made entirely of leather straps over her breasts, stretching the already-skimpy fabric to its limits and barely covering a thing. She didn't bother putting on pants.

Chloe was easy prey.

"Omigod Vyx, what did you � what happened to�um, wow," she said, gaze caught like a doe in headlights by the goth-gamer's massive assets.

"Eyes up here, please," Vyxen replied, affecting the annoyed tone she'd use with gamer-pervs � when she bothered to speak to them at all.

"Eek, sorry, I just... ohhhhhh." Chloe'd looked into her housemate's eyes, and almost immediately tranced herself.

Vyxen couldn't quite believe that had actually worked. Now that it had, she felt a brief pang of guilt that Chloe obviously hadn't � couldn't have � consented. But the gamer-chick wanted her housemate so badly that she came up with fantastic rationalizations. Vyxen didn't own any sunglasses, after all � and, she thought to herself, it would be unfair on her to spend all her time isolated in her room just because some people liked her eyes.

That done, the goth-babe took Chloe by the hand and led the newly-obedient cutie to Vyxen's own upper apartment. She locked the door and pulled all the blinds shut. Then she started suggesting things to Chloe. Things like, "you've always secretly loved and worshipped Vyxen, and hoped she'd let you fuck her," and "just hearing Vyxen's voice can send you into climax." But she only spoke as long as it took to guide Chloe to the soft living room carpet and force that top off.

Then Chloe was awake, eager, blissfully suckling Vyxen's very sensitive nipple like it was candy. It would have made a hell of a porno scene � Chloe a 5'10" blonde dolly with huge boobies, perfect legs, and an overall jealousy-inducing hourglass figure; Vyxen a 6'2" evil goddess with black-fading-to-red-orange Halloween gradient-hair, and a new pair of tits that outclassed even Chloe's. Anyone would have wanted to film Vyxen's thick cherry-red lips screaming out in orgasm once Chloe finally moved her empty head between her Mistress's legs and began -- slowly, perfectly -- to lick...

That was all. It ended in mid-scene, mid-thought. Mila took a long swig of coffee, but even that didn't tell her what to write next. She'd lost the flow, and the writing was all a mess � weird sentence constructions, the wrong infodumps at the wrong times, and hanging a lampshade on Vyxen's name didn't mean it was a good idea.

She made to exit the file and do something else, but MagiText had its close window button in the wrong place, and she ended up just maximizing the thing. The sudden change of the window made her realize the title was still "Untitled Document" � Mila hadn't even saved. The auto-updater could have wiped the whole thing. Probably not much loss, the young writer reasoned as she took another big swig of coffee. But � hell � something might be salvageable from all that mess.

Mila hit control+S to save the file. Instantly she heard moaning from the next room over. Baffled, she peered out over her kitchen-table laptop to see what the hell was happening.

An impossible scene played out in front of her. A tall, stacked, almost painfully beautiful blonde, and an even taller woman with waist-long, silken jet-black hair fading at the ends to orange-red, were screwing right in front of her. On the soft carpet in Mila's own living room, her characters had come to life. Both of them just as she'd made them � incredibly, mind-meltingly hot.

Mila's palms flushed and her breathing got harder. She had to get a closer look, and instinctively got up to do so. Unfortunately, she'd scooted her chair in too close to the table, and couldn't easily get out. Instead, her leg caught the table with a loud, painful bang.

This mishap accomplished two things.

First, it instantly pierced through Mila's arousal and hyperfocused her on the fact that she'd just poofed into existence a very evil mind-controller who'd barely hesitate before altering Mila's mind, too � or anyone else who happened to be in Vyxen's way.

Second, it drew Vyxen's attention away from the stunningly perfect cuntlicking she was currently receiving from Chloe, and towards the woman sitting in the kitchen and furtively looking at her laptop.

Vyxen was much less easily rattled by the impossible than Mila. After all, two impossible things had already happened to her before breakfast; and she made a living out of being unflappable. It did take the goth-gamer a few seconds to process what had happened, especially through the haze of Chloe's tongue. But once she did, the proper course of action was clear to her. With a crocodile's smile on her face, she got up and made her way rapidly towards Mila.

"Well, hello, cutie," Vyxen cooed in a low, soft purr. "Curious what you're working on... would you show me?" Her eyes were temporarily still. But the magical hypnodomme knew she could turn them on again at will.

Mila, too, knew the score. She was sorely tempted to look, but she refused. She quickly made sure she was on the right window, closed her eyes as tight as she'd ever closed them in her life, hit the End key to move to the bottom of the draft, and used every ounce of her legendary 130 wpm speed to bang out six terse, hurried words in under three seconds:

then vyxen and chloe fell asleep.

Vyxen, briefly, had seen the screen. But she hadn't had time to process it before the sudden wave of drowsiness hit. She collapsed right on top of Mila, her massive boobs landing right against the shy writer's face. Mila almost came from the combination of Vyxen's unearthly stimulation and her own narrow victory. But she pushed Vyxen away with difficulty and no small measure of regret. She wanted to breathe; and she had a few more things to write. Words that would protect her, and the world, from her stunning creations.

The two beauties, Vyxen and Chloe, slept, waiting for their Goddess, Mila � who is the author of this story � to wake them up with her voice, as only Mila could do. Goddess Mila controls their bodies and minds with a word, utterly and completely, and always will. Chloe and Vyxen will always believe and will never question that their Goddess created them for Her own pleasure. Chloe and Vyxen also love their Goddess desperately, and are utterly, blissfully happy to be Goddess Mila's thralls, now and for the rest of their lives. Both of Goddess's thralls know exactly what to do to please Her and fulfill Her will most at any given time; and everything that the Goddess does feels and is perfect to Vyxen and Chloe. It has always been thus.

She typed this all out in just over a minute, adrenaline making the words flow as fast as they ever had. She proofread hastily as she fumblingly stripped out of her clothes. Guilty thoughts warred in her head with triumphant ones -- she'd almost destroyed the world, but she'd fixed her mistake through pure awesomeness. Several times she almost erased the whole paragraph, almost wrote that Chloe and Vyxen would disappear forever. But then she'd catch a glimpse of perfect lips, or a whiff of intoxicating perfume, from one of her sleeping beauties, and it would utterly destroy her. She'd never let them go. She couldn't.

Just before Mila saved, it occurred to her to wonder what the hell Kaylie had done with this seemingly omnipotent program she'd been sitting on for two years. Had she been afraid to use it? Used it, but subtly? Though impossible for her to answer, those questions did matter, especially if Kaylie had sent the program to others � but she'd let Vyxen analyze that problem. She'd created someone who thought at least as quickly as, and was more unflappable than, herself � why not delegate? In the meantime... well, she hadn't gotten laid in almost a year. Honestly, it was a miracle she'd held out long enough to write something safer than "Vyxen and Chloe wake up and fuck their Goddess Mila."

She hit Ctrl+S.

Nothing happened.

This actually threw Mila off for a second, before she remembered how she'd written the command.

"Vyxen and Chloe, please wake up and come to me," the writer said.

The newly established Goddess watched two of the most angelic, perfect beauties in the entire world flutter their eyelashes and come to life, eyes sparkling with absolute, perfect adoration and worship.

Mila trembled. Her creations had been intoxicating when they slept -- wet dreams captured in perfect stillness. Now -- alive, awake -- their celestial, worshipful beauty threatened to overload her senses. She wished she'd thought to change herself, too, to handle this all more easily. The guilt crept back in -- the feeling that she wasn't quite good enough for all this. But then Vyxen had her hand on Mila's shoulder, and was smiling comfortingly down at her, and Mila's heart melted even before her 6'2" gothic doll spoke.

"Hey, Goddess. Please, try to relax," Vyxen purred luxuriously, her tongue teasing the stud above her upper lip.

"Close your eyes if it'll help, just for a second," suggested Chloe cooingly, as she came around the table and pulled Mila into a tight, comforting, unbelievably arousing hug.

Mila did, and let the tension drain out of her, absorbed by the two cuties touching her.

"You're so hot... and you just saved the entire world from what I used to be. You totally deserve to own us," said Vyxen into one ear.

Chloe spoke sweetly into Mila's other ear. "I was so, so scared when the old Vyxen owned me... she only sought her own pleasure, and never bothered to make me happy or relaxed. She only wanted my tongue. But you want all of me... and I feel so much better, Goddess, so much more fulfilled. It's like I've gone out of a nightmare and into a perfect dream. Please, let me and Vyxen please you," begged the blonde dolly in a voice that imitated innocence but dripped with irresistible sexual heat.

Mila knew they were telling her exactly what she wanted to hear. But she also knew it was the truth for them. It was hard to stay guilty when two superhuman beauties were trying their best to ease your conscience, and when you'd personally given them unfairly perfect tools for doing so. She wasn't sure she'd dare to create any more thralls, but the ones she'd already crafted filled holes in her life she hadn't even realized she had.

She couldn't let them go. There was no good reason she shouldn't let these dolls go on serving her the way every fiber of their being demanded they do.

It was decided, then. She'd keep her two thralls. It was the least she could do for them, after all.

She opened her eyes, smiling, for once utterly ready.

"Vyxen, kiss; Chloe, lick," Mila commanded.

Chloe's massive boobs jiggled in her way-too-tight pink bunny-themed T-shirt as she thoughtfully moved Mila's laptop out of the way. Then she knelt, knees not even feeling the hardwood, because her Mistress and Goddess wouldn't want them to. Mila had just enough time to see the most beautiful cornflower-blue eyes look up at her in eager worship before Vyxen's warm, soothing, intense, sweet, rich, lewd, hungry mouth was on her lips.

Then Chloe licked, once, twice, thrice, and suckled just a bit, and brought Mila to the first of many, many orgasms she'd have that day. Thanks to Mila's writing, the blonde sex-angel had a tongue like a cheat code � providing an almost unfair amount of pleasure, each lick placed exactly how Mila wanted it. The writer screamed and moaned deeper, longer, more gutturally than she ever had, utterly losing herself in the sapphic bliss-waves that Chloe's lapping gave her. Thanks to Vyxen's lush, perfect mouth muffling her cries with intense, growling kisses, she didn't even disturb the neighbors.

It wasn't until Mila's sixth crashing orgasm that she finally took a break. Still on a natural high, smiling widely, feeling well-fucked and loved, Mila re-corralled the laptop and typed a new paragraph, to ensure that her neighbors would never, ever know.