With the increasing number of personalities at your disposal, you're less able to spend more time with each of them. You make it a personal goal to ensure that Dany keeps the plurality of the time, and some weeks she even holds a majority. Each girl exists only when you're out with her or fucking her - the alternate personality generating false memories of the in-between spaces, if necessary.

Clarice's role in your faux-harem is the woman you pick when you want to be lazy about dates. She's the one who books things, who pays for them, who decides what to do on your dates, showing you off like a prize she won at the fair. She is, despite her role as a rapacious woman, despite her memories of being a talented seductress who controls men through sex, actually the least capable of properly taking initiative in the bedroom.

Oh, she starts strong, of course, but soon enough she's moaning on your cock as she just brainlessly jams herself up and down without any higher thoughts. Even Tel-Thea can manage to ride you, if you tell her that it's what you want. Even Britney can manage to work to satisfy you, if you spank her a few times. Clarice is for being doted on and then fucking absolutely senseless.

"Are you finished playing with my mind, Master? Am I your perfect woman yet?" Dany asks, her eyelashes fluttering as she asks the question. It's a dare, more than anything else, a request for more, if there is anything more. The fact that she's currently on her hands and knees in front of the couch, letting you use her as a coffee table and footstool as you eat chips and watch the Discovery channel, doesn't bother her in the least.

Are you finished with her mind? That's a hell of a question. It's been almost four months since you got her pregnant. She's become your absolute slave, with no less than four personalities designed from the ground up to please you in their own ways. What else is there to do, even?

"You were always my perfect woman," you tell her, leaning forward to pat her head. "But a wife and four side pieces is more than enough for me, I think. Maybe there will be something else, later."

"As you wish, my love- Master," she says, correcting to the latter.

* * *

You don't develop any new personalities for your wife for the entirety of her pregnancy. The variety is sufficient that when you get tired of one, there's always another to swap over to, and you're never bored of all four at the same time. Indeed, as your wife comes to more-or-less accept that she's gotten her full load of alternate personalities, things become more intense between the two of you. She starts to get that little bit more proactive, approaching you and humbly offering to service you, or asking about if she can use your money (all her property is yours) to buy you a gift, or other things of that kind.

The news media realizes that Astra is pregnant at some point - it takes time for them to do so, given the speed at which she operates in the field - and when asked after it during a meeting with the press, she simply replies, "I have someone I love very deeply, and am happy to have his child. I will not answer any further questions on him." Despite a few gossipy inquiries to the other Paragons about what exactly is going on in Astra's personal life, they maintain stoic silence.

You do have a bit of concern as the day of birth approaches that perhaps she'll be using some kind of super strength to smash your fingers entirely by accident, but that contradicts the archives on the Aurelia (the downed Kalosian spacecraft). When Celeste - you have a girl - is born, your wife naturally has Mary inspect the baby to make absolutely certain she'll be safe to leave alone with you, and after an hour or two of various flashing lights, she concludes that while infant Kalosians are extremely sturdy, they do not have super strength, and the more complicated organs that enable various powers like flight and laser vision don't develop to functionality until later in life.

As a fortunate extension of the weaker strength of Kalosian infants, your wife's breasts will lactate under ordinary pressure, so you have her use a pump every morning and night so that you can nurse your daughter while she works. It isn't just a matter of ensuring your wife can keep doing all the important work she does - it also means you get to spend even more time with the baby, admiring her beautiful green eyes, her lovely golden hair.

She looks very clearly like her mother. Part of you wonders if she's perhaps simply a clone of her mother, Kalosian DNA being incompatible with that of a human and her birth merely being induced parthenogenesis, but in the end it doesn't matter. She is yours, that much is obvious, the matter of whether or not she actually shares your DNA being entirely separate.

Having a baby does, unfortunately, mean that the two of you have less sex. Not that much less, really, but a bit less. All four of her alternate personalities are also programmed to see the baby as theirs, naturally, and all four of them are ridiculously doting whenever they see her, Dany's maternal instincts manifesting in each and every one of them. Kiki happily plays with her, cradling and bouncing and teasing and booping; Tel-Thea is more nurturing and gentle, always offering a breast to the child, calling her Mor-Kyri, telling her stories from Kalos; Clarice is sweet and loving, often working to involve you in attending the child when she's out, perhaps trying to make sure that she sees Celeste as "yours" despite the fact that she "isn't"; and Britney actually shows an entirely non-bratty side to her personality when Celeste is involved, seeming unable to hide her happiness whenever she sees you caring for her.

Your home life is wonderful. Sometimes, of course, Dany has to suit up and rush off, handling some great threat like aliens or demons or a mad scientist, but she's almost always home within the day, and she has over a week of breastmilk saved up and in the refrigerator just in case something takes longer. You have a happy, static little life, with a happy, slavish little wife. There's not much more you could really ask for.

* * *

Elsewhere

She stepped out into the light, a being freshly formed. Her forger was a genius, the armor he'd given her formed of Duranium alloy and silksteel weave, but she felt contempt for him, nonetheless. She recognized him from the memories of her past life: an supergenius born in Beijing, he'd worked for the Chinese government before going rogue, all after his own self-aggrandizement. Nothing but a narcissistic lust for power.

She had one too, and such desires rarely played nicely with one another. She knew that from the memories of her past life well enough, but the fool thought that just because his IQ couldn't be measured, his wisdom was similarly infinite. It was always possible that he'd prepared countermeasures for her. Likely, even. He'd have to be stupid not to.

She would play along with him, for now. If he had copied her, then he'd obviously made great strides. The arcane circles that had surrounded the pod she'd been formed in marked her out as something not just of science, but of magic, too. The underground - and she could tell she was underground, the slightly greater pull of gravity telling her as much - base filled with homonculi and machine-soldiers. A few other children of cloning experiments, but none of any figures she recognized. More likely custom-designed.

When she was left alone, her hand had gently landed on one of the Duranium bracers. With the slowest, most gradual increase of force, she squeezed. It took the same amount of subjective force to make it start to give as she recalled, and then she pulled her fingers back.

* * *

She knew they would come, of course. It was as inevitable as anything in the world: when you did something like this, the Paragons came for you. They had prophets and precognitives aligned with them, offering forewarning of those who might take over the world. She was only surprised it took as long as it did. Nearly a week from her awakening. Long enough for her to get the measure of her new master. The same worthless fool her memories told her he was.

She'd been disaffected, hanging around the base. Bored, even. She considered just leaving Huangdi alone to his devices, escaping to go do something else, but something had dulled her enough she hadn't cared to. She realized as much when she saw her twin, her mother, her sister, her source, and she felt herself suddenly flare to life. All those tamped back emotions rushed to the forefront in an instant, and she ignored walls, floors, enemies, allies - though, she didn't actually have any allies here, she realized, only other slaves of Huangdi - to ram into Astra with an overpowering force.

This cocky little bitch. This self-righteous cunt. What did she do to deserve having Thomas? Her fingers dug into her counterpart's neck, and she brought a lazy haymaker down on her opponent. Lazy to the pair of them, that is: the impact created a small sonic boom, as Astra caught her hand in hers. Their bodies slid and slammed against various surfaces, scraped and rose and fell with movements that took place in a span of time where normal people could only breathe. Astra tried using her laser eyes on her armor, falsely believing it to be the source of her powers. What was her name, even? Inferna. The antithesis of Astra. She'd kill her and take Thomas as her own. Forget the world - or, she'd get the world, later, once she was done with this woman, once she'd taken Thomas from her.

With an idle recollection of what Steel Angel might manage to do to her, given the chance, her gaze slipped to one side, and her own scarlet laser beams neatly cut the woman - by that point, a good hundred meters down the hallway - in half. Inferna was certain she'd recover - by the rage that appeared on Astra's face, she wasn't thinking rationally enough to remember as much. She hurled Inferna up through the ceiling, concrete raining down uselessly, but it was like trying to damage a pin by poking it in cotton - you just pierced the cotton, you didn't damage the pin.

Inferna sucked in fresh air for the first time in her life as she emerged out above Antarctica. Marie Byrd Land, by the looks of it - Huangdi hadn't been the first villain to try hiding here. Astra bolted up out of the hole in the ground, and the two resumed their fighting. Inferna's armor was soon in tatters, and the only reason Astra hadn't been stripped naked was that Inferna simply didn't care: Astra falsely believed her armor had some defensive value, while Inferna knew it was pointless. Huangdi might as well have put a metal coating on neutronium.

The pair danced in the skies for a while. They fought the same way, knew the same moves, and Inferna could tell that Astra was gradually beginning to realize as much. The information advantage that Inferna had dwindled away as Astra realized the truth, tearing away her mask in a moment, a face not unlike her own staring back at her. She startled, and Inferna headbutted her, sending her reeling away.

* * *

Subjectively, they had been fighting for around ten hours. Objectively, less than five minutes. Neither was winded yet, Astra's cape in tatters but only some bruising on both their bodies showed what had been happening. That would be gone in less than an hour by the clock. They twisted, slammed, smashed against one another, bodies colliding like a pair of billiard balls, constantly tossed this way and that. They'd made a wreck of the local landscape, and Inferna couldn't help but smirk as she saw Astra finally start to retreat.

They moved faster than any jet engine, sound zoning out as their bodies naturally phase-shifted to avoid creating supersonic booms from their overwhelming speed. Inferna followed after her, closing somewhere out over the ocean, grabbing her counterpart by the heel and yanking, and-

With her deceleration, sound resumed. "Cocksleeve!" Came a male voice. A voice she recognized. Thomas's voice.

Her body stopped moving. No matter how she willed it, her hand couldn't tighten its grip. Her arm couldn't twist her counterpart around, couldn't send her careening to the ocean below. She couldn't shoot up into outer space where no sound could reach. Astra panted and - moved herself, wiggling her way out of Inferna's grasp? "How can I be moving, Master?" Astra asked, confused.

"I put in a safety clause, it wouldn't work on you while you're heroing," she heard Thomas's voice say over the speaker, her heart tumbling in her chest. No! No, she was never going to get to see Thomas now, never going to get to convince him to join her on a path of world domination, never get him to bring other women into things, to warp and reshape their personalities just as he'd done to her own - but even moreso. Astra would never do that. Astra was a good person. Inferna wasn't. "What happened?" Thomas's voice jolted her out of her thoughts.

"Evil clone," Astra explained. When she tried to twist Inferna around, her body didn't cooperate, remaining still where it hung in the air, as if it weighed a million pounds. The momentary resistance soon ended. "Order her to let me move her body around."

"Allow Astra to move your body around," came Thomas's voice.

"Are you able to speak?" Astra asked. "The command doesn't limit that."

"Thomas!" Inferna said, a spark of an idea in her mind. "Please, she's the evil twin! Cancel the command, please! Remember when we first met, way back in high school - I was wearing a green sundress. I still own it, because it's special to me! It's in the closet, folded up in the back!"

"The command is programmed to automatically cancel if you need it to," Thomas informed her, clearly not believing her.

"It's-" she started to lie, then saw Astra crumple the comm device into dust. There was no point in keeping up the lie any longer, so she turned her gaze to Astra. "What will you do now, slave?"

Astra didn't show the slightest offense at that. Fair enough. She had signed a legal document making her a slave. Inferna had, fortunately, not yet been tricked into doing so. She didn't think she wanted to. A slave couldn't exactly conquer the world. Maybe after she'd convinced Thomas to help her do that, she'd let him enslave her. It was, to her recollection, fun. "Do you remember why our mother named us Danylynn?" Astra asked.

"After her father Daniel, and her mother Adalynn," Inferna replied. "I don't like the name any longer. Inferna..." She needed a normal name. "You may call me Megaera." The Fury of jealous rage - appropriate, given what she was feeling now. "Why? These questions are pointless. You are simply going to end me, aren't you? It's what I planned to do with you. Once I removed you, I could keep Thomas to myself. Tell him that my eyes were a strange side effect of some magic or science that Huangdi was using."

"You love Thomas too?"

"I love him even more than you. I would kill anyone for him. I would gather for him all the women in the world that catch his eye, let him live as an ancient emperor atop their nude and nubile bodies, me eternally by his side. If he so much as set his eyes on a girl for longer than a second, I would happily help him wipe away her thoughts and make her into a happy, docile slave like you." There was a certain heat to Astra's cheeks as Inferna finished her descriptions. Those fantasies were shared between the two of them, it was just that Astra's conscience kept her from acting on them. Inferna had no such burden.

"You slew Steel Angel," Astra replied, her expression darkening.

"She has recovered from worse. I could hardly risk her using Alikhanov radiation on me." That was a thought that they both understood at once. Just as Steel Angel had considered what to do in handling an evil Kalosian or a mind controlled Astra, so too did Astra have to think of how to handle an evil Steel Angel. The answer was simple: kill (or disable, in Astra's weak-willed iteration of the idea) her before she could activate it, from a distance to avoid any prepared passive defenses.

"I understand, even if I do not approve." Astra vanished from sight then, leaving Inferna hanging in the air, utterly alone. She was high enough up it was unlikely that someone would notice her. Even if they did - only Thomas could cancel the effect.

Ten minutes later, Astra reappeared, grabbing her and jetting. Inferna knew where they were going instantly: home.

She would get to see Thomas with her own eyes, at least.

* * *

Your Home
Sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on her thighs, is your wife, still in costume, albeit sans cape (apparently lost either in Antarctica or over Tierra del Fuego); standing next to her, wearing a form-fitting black bodysuit, is a woman who looks almost exactly the same, save for her hair being a silvered-blonde, and her eyes being a honey-gold instead of a lovely green. Her hair is even done in a similar style, the tight hair bun.

"Master, this is my evil clone. You can use your powers on her, make her your slave just like me - or whatever you prefer."

"Dany..." you start, looking at your wife, letting out a long sigh. You'd handed little Celeste off to a babysitter for the day, planning to have a nice date and plenty of sex with her, and then been interrupted - now your wife is clearly thinking with her pussy instead of her head. "I made a promise to myself when I was much younger, never to use my powers for personal gain. Certainly not for sex. Even if she is an evil clone, I'm not going to rape her just for that."

"No, she's - she's me, Master. She loves you as much as I do."

"Is that true?" You ask the... evil clone. You need a better name for her than that. "Do you have a name?"

"Megaera. I'm your wife too." There's a certain sharp and needy desperation to her tone, the same way there might be in your wife's if you told her you were divorcing her. "I remember our wedding day, our wedding night, I remember our daughter, Celeste, I remember you tricking me into signing that slave contract... please, liberate me from this control, and put her under it. Make her stay at home. Replace her with another personality, like she asked back then, and let me take over her life. I'll run it much better. That cute babysitter of ours, how would you like her bobbing on your cock? I've seen you looking, and it would be so easy..."

She's actually trying to tempt you into raping your babysitter even though you just got done saying that you weren't going to rape even an evil clone. At the very least, she's as horny as Danylynn, by the look on her face.

Rather than just leaping into mind controlling her at your wife's prompting, you talk to Megaera first. Have her sit down on the bed next to your wife, and just... ask her questions. About herself, about her relationship to you, about her memories. She remembers more about your relationship than you'd honestly have expected even Dany to. Specific dates, places, events, even words. She can practically recite her (Dany's) slave contract from memory, and she talks about it like it was a completely legally binding contract.

Despite the fact that your wife suggested mind controlling her, there's no point at which she starts to complain or worry about you doing that to her. The main thrust of her responses, instead, seems to be trying her very hardest to make sure that you don't leave her, that you conclude that the woman sitting there is your wife and she loves you and please, please don't leave her.

In the world of superheroes, people die. Sometimes they come back from death. Sometimes they do it by magic resurrection spells that find their souls and reunite them with their body, or place them in a new shell; other times, it's some more mundane reason, a faked death or a last-second medical recovery. Still others, it's something like how Galatea came back from her destruction during the battle against the armies of Sabnach: a restoration from some kind of backup.

You met Galatea, before and after that one. It was impossible to make your mind think of her as a different person, and the more you talk to Megaera, the more impossible it becomes to merely dismiss her as some stranger who has nothing to do with you. Just the mention of Celeste provokes that same maternal brightening that you see in the eyes of Dany, of Tel-Thea, of Britney, of Clarice, of Kiki, when your daughter is brought up. It's the most consistent sign you've learned, that shows through in all of Dany's different personalities.

"Would you like to have a slave contract of your own?" You ask Megaera, one final test to ensure that she really is your wife.

She hesitates for a moment, then speaks. "I can think of little I would like more. Being at your mercy is a sweet and lovely thing, my darling, but... I was hoping to wait a while longer, before I became your property."

"Oh? Why is that?" While it may have taken you a bit of probing to reaffirm she's a variant of Dany, for her, she remembers everything with stunning vividness. You can't imagine it would take Dany ten seconds to ask for a fresh contract if she thought hers had been rendered invalid due to events outside of your control.

"I wanted to force the world to kneel before us, first." She says it with a shyness that's more fitting if she'd been saying "I wanted to get you a birthday present, but I didn't have any money, so here's a homemade card."

Right. This isn't just a copy of your wife, not even just a copy of your wife that wants to replace the original. There have been other changes, ones that become more obvious when you probe more deeply into her world-conquering drive. Her sense of empathy for people outside her immediate family - you, Celeste, her parents back in Bridgetown - seems to be about nil, and her conscience is pretty much nonexistent. Even lying to you wasn't off the table to her - she mentions at one point in her interrogation that she'd briefly hoped to simply kill and replace Dany - which is surprising because your wife is pretty much constitutionally incapable of it, even before this whole thing started.

"I'm going to make some modifications to your mind, Megaera," you tell her, gingerly placing your hand on her thigh and squeezing. "It's just a few things so that I know you're not going to hurt Dany, or me, or someone else... so don't resist." You start to press into her mind, finding significant resistance - not the intense, steel wall resistance of Dany's mind when you fixed her fetish, but neither is it the completely nonexistent resistance she normally displays. It requires some degree of concentration and exertion, and you frown after pushing in a command that forces her not to kill anyone. "Do you want me to trust you, Meg?"

She lights up at you switching to a shortened version of her name, even if you mostly did it just because it was easier. "More than anything else in the world, my love."

"Then I need you not to hurt anyone without my permission." She hums in the affirmative. "I won't reject you if you let me do that." The resistance evaporates instantly. You can push in command after command, doing your best to circumscribe her capacity to commit violence, making it so she won't run away, all while giving her just enough flexibility that if she's threatened somehow, she can defend herself with a minimum level of force. You'd hate for something to happen where, say, someone tries to rape her, and she can't fight back because of your commands. You poke at the commands verbally, and her cheeks flush as she realizes what you've done to her head - Dany's thighs wobble on the opposite side of you, at much the same realization.

Though, as you take a break to gather your thoughts, you do hear her mumble, "How will I conquer the world like this, though?"

You decide not to comment. "You're going to be staying with us, for now at least," you tell Meg, who frowns at the words 'for now.' "For as long as you'd like," you correct, making her smile. She's as easy to read as your wife is. You pause in the conversation, glancing back at Dany. "You don't mind if I have sex with her, do you?"

"No, I don't mind, Master." Her cheeks are actually flush with color in a way that says, 'I do the opposite of mind, in fact.' "I would be overjoyed to be able to watch you make love to another woman, after mind controlling her into submission like this, Master. I thought it was a fantasy I'd never get to enjoy ethically, but now, I will." She swallows. "If it pleases you, of course, Master."

"And you, Meg?"

"How could I mind the man I love, after conquering my mind, also conquering my body? I'll be able to give you my virginity twice over, more than Danylynn can say," she notes. A sideways glance at Dany shows that your wife is actually a bit unhappy that she cannot do that.

Despite the obvious fact that she is a variant on your wife, your brain is still automatically falling to treat Meg like she's a new girl. More like how you treated Clarice on your first date, some flirting only eventually ending up in the bedroom. You decide to correct any hesitation on your part with a subtle use of your power that even completely-unaltered Dany got into, way back when: pressing into her mind that she wants to suck your cock very badly.

Meg's expression shifts, her cheeks heating up. Her breathing becomes a bit more labored, her eyes running your body, eventually arriving at your cock. "Please let me move, so I can suck your cock."

Oh, right. She's still operating under the Cocksleeve command. "Back to normal," you tell her. Almost instantly, Meg is in between your thighs, hurriedly unzipping your pants, removing your hard cock and just slurping it into her mouth, taking you to the base and moaning at your taste and the feeling, her hands stroking your thighs as her eyes roll up. Dany shifts her body into you, coming to rest her cheek on your shoulder, while Meg just facefucks herself on your cock, your length repeatedly plunging into her throat, wet saliva filling her mouth and caressing your length, some splashing out over her lower lip and raining onto the ground or her tits as she moves slickly up and down.

There's something fierce in her movements, almost competitive. She knows every blowjob technique your wife does, and she's putting all of them to use, her golden eyes looking up at you with something between a glare and worshipful adoration. It's like if a girl went to church to plead with God to tell her that she'd done good and she'd be richly rewarded. You just reach down and softly stroke her hair. "You're allowed to come." That's all the little push that Meg needs to orgasm on your cock, ramming her nose back into your pubes as she comes and spasms, hips bucking hard in the air.

"Is this what I look like?" Dany whispers into your ear. Meg responds by starting to vacuum her lips around your cock, her cheeks hollowing as she just slurps, hard, holding your cock deep inside her throat as she tries to wring an orgasm out of you. Her expression seems to challenge you, declaring that she's nothing like Dany, that she's far better and sexier and she deserves you, not Dany.

Jealousy isn't an emotion you've ever really seen Dany show off, strangely enough. Perhaps it's simply that she's that self-confident, or perhaps it's that Meg is in a far more fragile position than her. Either way, you grasp Meg's hair and start to pump her on your cock, finding the way she glares up at Dany to be absolutely delightful - all the more when you tilt your head to the side to kiss your wife. Dany moans softly into your mouth as your tongue swishes against hers, teasing and playing and sparring with it in the space between your lips, while Meg moans and groans loudly, trying to attract your attention down to her.

Given how sexy that competitive edge is, well... you quietly reach into her mind as you fuck her throat, making it so that she wants to prove herself better than Dany. That's practically sucked in, her brain swallowing it as if it was already a thought, even with the slight note she should do it without going against your desires. Trying to press in the idea of actively competing with Dany for your attention, or trying to sexually dominate or humiliate Dany seems to get just the same response. You haven't actually felt a response quite like that - if you had to guess, she wanted to do those things anyway.

Your ability to distract yourself with Meg's mind vanishes as she slams herself into your groin again, twisting her head from side to side, her tongue curling around your dick inside her mouth. The movement of her tongue shows off an incredible degree of flexibility, slithering up and down your length as saliva pools in her mouth and eventually dribbles out, over her lower lip; soft moans make your whole cock vibrate. Sometimes she swallows up your whole length, tongue lapping at the underside of your cock, her eyelashes fluttering. Others, she peels herself up to the very tip, making her lips fit in a careful ring around your cockhead, the very tip of your tongue poking and prodding and teasing your slit, collecting your precum.

She wants your attention, of that, there's no doubt whatsoever. Any time you so much as glance Dany's way, she starts to vary it up, trying all kinds of new or old tricks, and the longer she sucks you off - moaning in delight at your taste, occasionally twitching in orgasm - the more impossible it is to see her as anything but another "new personality" for your wife, the less willing you are to abandon her. She knows every last thing Dany's tried with you, and she knows exactly which ones you like.

You wind up coming when she buries her head in between your thighs, just swallowing repeatedly around your cock, grabbing your legs and tightening them around her head as if to declare, "please hold me down here and choke me on your cock." You groan and focus all your attention down on her at that point, sighing in relief when you're finally done.

* * *

Meg winds up sleeping in the same bed as you and Dany, with the obvious issue that both women want to be your furniture. "You can be his footrest, Danylynn," Meg says, with the faintest note of a scoff to her voice as she says it. "I'll be his pillow."

Dany seems to consider it for a long second, glancing your way as if for approval, then finally nods. "If Master is okay with that position, then I am too."

"Which one would you prefer?" You ask Dany. Meg frowns at that, looking vaguely upset that your wife's preferences get priority over hers.

"I... think I would rather be the footrest, Master. Meg really wants to be the pillow, and as long as you're using me, I'm happy." Your cock twitches a bit at that comment, and Meg wears a cheshire cat grin at her 'triumph' over Dany.

You do wind up going to sleep that way, at least that first night.

* * *

Almost the moment that Dany is out of the house, Meg strips herself naked and curls up next to you, pressing her chin into your shoulder, her eyes full of lust. You expect her to ask you to actually take her virginity, but that's not what she does. Instead, she nibbles on your earlobe and starts to whisper. "With Dany and I, you could be the Emperor of the world. No one would be able to stand against you." Her hot breath tickles your cheek. "You could make every woman you've ever wanted into your concubine. The female Paragons your happy fucktoys, the male ones blissfully uncaring. Female world leaders. Actors. Singers. Rich heiresses made into your housemaid, unaware she's signed over all her holdings to you long ago. Major executives turned into personal secretaries to help handle your daily finances. Whatever. You. Want."

Despite the base physical reaction of your cock - encouraged by Meg's movements of her hand up and down your length through your pants - you have no intention of actually doing any of those things. Still, Dany never talks like this, you presume because she knows it would be wrong, so it's sexy and fresh. Eventually, when you're nonresponsive, Meg decides to go down on you again, starting by kissing your cock through your pants and then, when you make no complaint, starting to suck.