The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

ROSE AND MARC — BOUNTIFUL

“OK, let’s get started with Rose. After all she’s half the reason we’re here,” I pointed out, again. “Stand here dear, everyone else take your seats.”

“You may have noticed she’s filled out some in the last week. Not that she was undeveloped, before, but her new tits are special. Magical even. Rose, give Marc your robe.”

The chairs from the dining room and kitchen were arranged in a quarter-circle in the Bullman’s living room, with the couch behind in a second row. A single-sized mattress had been placed on a small bed stand from Carl’s furniture and appliance store, which had been wrapped with a rubber bed-wetters liner. A fresh white cotton sheet was then added, with a stack of many more sheets visible off to the side, where all could see. Plus a fresh roll of paper towels and a stack of new terry wash cloths. I had sent Stella and Gail shopping together for the fresh bedding and then to get the special items. Both had never been in that kind of store, and were embarrassed to be with mother or daughter, but both developed plans to return there without the other at a later time, like maybe tomorrow Gail in the morning, Stella in the afternoon. I wondered briefly if I should make it so they ran into each other then, but made the strategic decision that fun as that may be, in the long run it’d serve my purposes better to let them max out their credit cards with sex toys, kinky clothing, and a stop at the salon—both decided if they had to parade around as naked as they had in the rehearsals, they’d do it looking their best.

There was a strong feeling of nervousness in the air. Good. I could turn that into excitement. It’s easier for me to manipulate emotion than generate it. In fact if I wasn’t redirecting their energy they’d be quivering like a group of hamsters as the giant hand reached into their hutch. Blood was sent to gonad-land instead of their brains, rods stiff and pussies hot and slick. But not completely, their nerves kept them in their own skins, not being mindless robots, they had to be aware and not broken. It’s what what I needed then and it was time to amp the edgy and uncertain feelings up, even for Troy, who in the back of his mind was thinking that this was the best thing ever, better than his wildest fantasies. He’s been tuned into watching Rose’s bust grow all week, and now he was actually going to get to see it, and most likely to feel it. Today. Soon. Tits! He involuntarily twitched his crotch as his penis throbbed in anticipation.

Marc was sitting up front, leaning forward with a big, tentative grin on his face. He goes to Rose and takes her robe, folding it gently and placing it on his lap as he sits down. From rehearsal he thought he knew what was coming, and looked forward to it, and was also looking forward to being done his part in today’s show and tell, and more than a little curious what will happen to Stella, and what was happening now—she’s been squirming on her seat and he’s noticed her ass twitching beguilingly. There was something about it that drew the eye, when not transfixed by Rose’s bosom.

I was floating over the mattress and Rose had stood beside me when she removed her robe. There were gasps from all as they surveyed her new bodyscape. She wore a new cherry-red peignoir, which would have been fairly sexy but modest, save that it was unbuttoned at the front showing her once big now substantial chest. It wasn’t grotesquely huge, just noticeably big, like Adrienne Barbeau on Maude, not like those Russ Meyers starlets—I consider cultural research an important part of survival and had been absorbing all the popular entertainment I could stand. Plus I’d scoured their sexual daydreams to find places that could be pushed and acts that would be resisted strongly. I hadn’t the power yet to muscle through all resistance, and besides I didn’t want to break any my toys so close to this erotic Christmas day. So no matter what I was going to have them do, there was always a natural seed within them which then started to flower under my not-so-green not-really-a-thumb.

I’d say Rose’s shirt puppies had doubled in mass, approximately. Plumper and rounder, maybe a quarter again as big. And I’d strengthened her back and belly muscles to better handle the added heft and keep her trim. They were perky too, bigger dark brown nipples reminded Annette of dials on a miniature radio she had as a kid, and poked upwards. Like a faded tattoo the purple sparkle pattern from the brazier’s outpour drifted over about a quarter of each breast—didn’t have to but I was marking my territory. She’s a big girl, well-proportioned but tall like her father—almost six foot, broad shouldered, meaty muscular thighs and pale skin that freckled in the summer sun. An ass that shelves into a pair of distinctive globes when she wears heels. She dyes her hair slightly to bring out the red highlights, which I’m thinking about making permanent. Heaven forbid she should dye blonde.

“You may wonder where this growth came from. I’m going to reveal something of myself to you, I can’t create mass, it has to come from somewhere. All I can do is manipulate existing time, form and substance. Carl, stand up and open your robe.”

Carl did so, revealing his barrel chest, still hairy, thick and bear-like up top but his once huge beer belly gone. His medallions still hung from a gold chain around his neck, though there was one new one with a star on a field of purple etched on one side, the other side blank.

“I borrowed some mass from Carl—I don’t think he’ll miss it.”

Sheila looked at Carl’s chest and her jaw dropped, “I could never get him to lose any weight at all.”

“I told you when we started you would be getting gifts you couldn’t imagine. Besides Rose’s tits and Carl’s gut, here’s one for you all. You will all find it easier to find the will-power to exercise and eat healthily from now on.” I knew what kind of exercise they would favor.

“But that’s not really magic, it’s more like hypnotic suggestion. For real magic we need to return to Rose’s tits, where lucky Marc is going to help us demonstrate. I want all the men to congratulate Marc on his being chosen first by shaking his hand. To start I want Marc to open one of the jars sitting on the side table.” Fourteen clear sealed medium mason jars filled with what looked like moisturizing cream were stacked off to the side among the props.

“Are those my canning jars?” Betty asked.

“Yes. I’ll replace them when needed with ones that never break the seal or let the content spoil. But not now, the power isn’t enough yet, I need it for other things.”

“Ok Marc, put a dab on your palm and shake each guy’s hand. Remember what to say. Regrease your palm before each shake.”

“Seven as one,” Marc says as he shakes Carl’s hand.

Carl replies, “Don’t hurt my girl” as he gives Marc a very firm grip.

“No sir,” is the wincing reply. “I think she’ll enjoy this as much as when we rehearsed.”

Hearing this Rose blushes. She then knew for sure there was no way back to “normal”, her folks weren’t going to stop this, nor was her boyfriend, or any of the adults, and Troy’s leer showed he certainly wouldn’t either, and that was what about to happen she deserved for being such a prude around her ’rents recently while sneaking off to fuck Will. And that excited her. I confessed I helped with these ideas. I didn’t place them there but once she had them she wasn’t able to reject them. So she stood there waiting arms crossed under her chest pushing it up, dressed in her sheer red nightie hip-cocked in teenage impatience and full of anticipation while I explained to the group.

“Carl—Everybody, let me say this again, pain is not part of our agenda. Pleasure is. I promise”. If I had fingers I’d have crossed them behind my back at this. But to be fair, any pain that came would be in the service of pleasure, and for the most part involved sexual embarrassment, one of the most potent sources of manna available with this group. They had to be compliant to my requests, but I also didn’t want to turn them blasé either, that would produce mediocre results. They had to remain engaged with the process. Robots wouldn’t do at all. But controlling them was at times like herding cats.

“Today I’m going to explain some stuff, talk about some rules, pass out some gifts and bestow some special super-human powers to some of you. Super-human sex powers that is. I’ll even answer some questions.”

Marc regreases and proceeds to grasp each hand in turn, repeating the phrase as I taught him. Going well so far.

“OK, now Rose,” I say. “You better also remove your nightie to keep it from getting dirty. Rose, stand in front of the mattress here.” She’s left standing awkwardly in a thin red thong which fails to completely cover her fiery-red pubic hair and matching red high-heel shoes. Marc pulls the thong down her legs fully revealing that the carpet does indeed match the drapes. She steps out, and he stands close in front of her, eye to eye. Marc smiles gently and nods, she nods back helping him remove his robe.

Marc was now naked except for a new leather vest that opens on his lightly-haired chest, his stiff prick rampant. He scoops some more cream out of the jar and starts to smear it across Rose’s chest. A series of expressions show on her face, worry, acceptance, relaxation and then a flush of arousal.

“Not only are Rose’s boobs magic, so is the cream. There is a jar here for each of you.”

As Marc rubs, Rose lays her hands on top of his and starts to moan. “You don’t know how good this feeeels!”

The group gawks as Marc dips another glob of cream out of the open jar and starts to slowly circle a greasy finger around each nipple. As they stiffen the visibly grow, both wider and longer. Rose’s head throws back and moans. Moisture drips from her cunt down her leg. Marc helps her lay back on the mattress and gets down, straddling on top of her. He starts thrusting his dick between her tits, holding them with spread fingers pressing her close around his tool.

I guess I have become distracted in my control of the group, for the always first to be contrary Sam blurts out “Incest is wrong.”

It’s obviously been on his mind, and he’s noticed Carl leer as Rose moans in ecstasy has given him the impetus to give voice to these thoughts.

I had up to then avoided family fun—the constituent parts of me taken from the Cosmo and Playboy disapproved, it had never seemed to work out well on average in the past—if you can get a hold of the book, and how else are you reading this, you can check it out yourself all the way back to the first entry, and thus there was no real wealth of extra manna to be gathered from any of that type of acts. I’d kept mum about this though and let them think they won a victory and get them to agree to something else instead.

“Is it wrong wrong, or is it wrong in a naughty sexy way?” I ask.

Troy blurts, “Naughty sexy” which earns him a scorching glare from all others in the room except for Rose, who’s breathing hard and approaching another orgasm.

“Wrong wrong” says Sam, and Betty nods agreement.

“OK, I can live with that, as long as you all who have kin among us agree. And you realize that this will make the time needed before you are permanently shielded longer, other acts will have to be done to fill in.” Nods all around. “Are you willing to pay that price?”

“Sam, your vote is obvious. Betty too. Carl?”

Carl seems regretful, takes a peek at Rose’s heaving chest, and then at Sheila who’s glaring at him, “Wrong,” he says with a touch of sorrow in his voice. The others who have votes say so too.

“OK. Can do. No blood relation incestuous acts. At least none that count for me. In-laws are still good. Promise. Yet you’re still going to see your children, parents, siblings engaged in various sex acts,” I dip towards Will and Annette, “But that’s all. Like Carl and Sheila are now. Carl, Sheila, feel comfort in the pleasure Rose is now feeling, look close and you can see that it is making her very, very happy. Look at her cunt puckering open and closed and her clit quivering. You can even feel a little jealous. Powers and gifts won’t work across kin either, but will for married couples and extended family such as in-laws. Carl, wait ’till you see what Sheila can do. And vice versa. Woo woo, hubba hubba, and toot toot!”

Just then Marc came all over Roses chest, neck and face. Still hard he pumped again, and squirted a second time. She began to leak fluid between her now opened legs onto the bed, and on the third thrust and third cum she actually squirted from her cunt into the air. Three more times this happened as Marc squirted and then she did, before Marc rolled off her onto the mattress, spent.

As Marc came the first time, Will felt a lightheaded rush of pleasure, his cock jerked reflexively. On the second squirt the same happened to Aram, and then once for each of the other men, except for Carl.

As Marc and Rose recovered their breath, I explained, “OK, time to explain Marc’s gift. It’s actually all the guy’s gift, if you think about it. Every time he cums, he shares a spurt with one of you guys. He gets half the pleasure, you get the other half. No matter where you are. The last cum is his one hundred percent though. If he was a superhero he’d be named Mr. Bountiful. This comes with a warning though. Remember I can’t create mass, so I have to borrow the jism. That comes from you, so to speak. From the past, wet dreams that were not wet, orgasms where no spunk came out. It’s more than luck that Stella and Rose haven’t yet got pregnant, the unprotected fucking they’ve done with some of you before I came along. No transference for Carl from Marc this time, because of Rose, and the same for Sam and Will when Marc does Annette, and for Will when Betty gets a blast. Probably none of those today though.”

“This means that once we are all over and done, and I promise that this day will happen, whenever Marc leaves a load up a snatch there is a one in seven chance that any child conceived will have your paternity. But I intend to talk more about reproduction—birth control and health later. For the short term I’ve slowed the aging process of the ladies cycles to a crawl, they cannot get pregnant until I return them to normal or put it this way they are fixed until the breach is fixed.” I didn’t mention that “normal” was never going to happen. It was going to be more fun than that.

“We’re not done with these two yet. Rose sit up; Marc, no cream needed this time. Remember what to say?”

“Yes.”

“OK, so far nothing much different than what a good plastic surgeon and implants could accomplish has been shown vis-a-vis Rose’s charms. Now for the magic. You may have noticed however how much she enjoyed it. That’s for two reasons. The magic cream increases nerve sensitivity while making the skin both tougher and more elastic, yet soft and smooth. Valuable stuff that. Good thing I’m giving you a source. The other reason is magic—her tits are now each wired to the same place in her brain as her clit, but only gradually switched on when they are being used for sex. So it’s like she has two big clits being rubbed when anyone tit fucks her long enough. Don’t worry, every guy here but Carl will get a chance. Don’t looks so hangdog Carl. Oh, and the same goes for her nipples. Like clits on top of clits. So she has up to five clits now instead of one, though only after an extended tit-job. Lucky girl. Ok, next step, Marc.”

“Can I get that?” Gail asks. Looking into their minds the other women I see they are all wishing they’d thought to ask this first.

“No duplications, sorry. But I haven’t told you yet what you will experience, and you may like that even better. Though as our instigators Rose and Stella are getting the greatest number of modifications. Some Stella doesn’t know of yet. Won’t that be fun?” If I could be seen looking I would have turned with the others to scan Stella, who’s turned an embarrassed crimson, involuntarily giving her bum a wiggle.

They turn back to the main action when, as we rehearsed, Marc says, “Milky Rose,” while gently squeezing her right tit with one hand. It lactates, squirting white milk into his other cupped palm, which he licks clean. She moans slightly. “Milky Rose Orange Juice,” Marc says and squeezes again, harder, pulling her breast outward slightly. This time from the nipple a spurt of OJ shoots out. Marc has caught it again. She moans a little louder, one hand slyly sneaking towards her pussy.

“Annette, come taste this,” I command. Annette doesn’t look thrilled, but comes over and slurps it out of Marc’s hand. “Well?”

“It’s orange juice alright.”

“Hand Marc a glass”. She does, and then goes back and sits down.

“Milky Rose Old Waukegan.” This time Marc gives her a much firmer squeeze and tug, and a stream of clear tan liquid flows into the glass Marc holds up to catch it. Rose takes a big gulp of air. She is now openly masturbating with her left hand. Marc squeezes again, and another stream shoots from her tit into the glass.

“Sam.”

Sam gets up and takes the glass from Marc. “It is. Cold too.”

“Yes, I’m afraid your beer cans in the fridge are all slightly less full now. I can’t create mass, I can only move it.”

“Any potable liquid can be summoned out of her milk factory. You can’t say ‘Milky Rose Sulfuric Acid’ for example. And it has a side effect on her, she gets hornier and hornier every time you do it until she cums. And she can’t orgasm like this by rubbing herself, no matter how hard she tries. And each time you milk her udders they grow just a bit, and don’t return to the ‘normal’ size until she cums, then they take up to a half-hour or so to shrink, leaking anything left in them out slowly.”

“How many times did you make her cum when we filled the Magic Cream jars, Marc?”

“7—two jars for each. One per tit.”

“And what did it take?”

“Me coming in her or on her—that brought her off.”

An image flashed through Rose’s mind of the future. Her in the Will’s basement, tied up on the couch, topless as one guy after the other sucked beer from her mammoth boobies, then fucked them all evening long as she came and came. Or not fucking her and her breasts enormously swollen and leaking, her begging for an orgasm again and again, cunt on fire. Then she almost-but-not-quite wet herself, again.

Sam interjected, “That seems cruel.”

“Maybe a little, but that’s the price of the magic. You don’t have to milk her. If you feel sorry for her just give her some of your spunk. As can any man,” Annette shows a cruel understanding smile—I didn’t say woman but she knew she could still tap Rose and make her squirm. “There is a way she can bring herself off to go back to normal if there isn’t a willing male around. Do you want to see it?”

“Yesssssss” Rose moans in sexed-up frustration. “Now, Nowwwww!”

“OK, in a second. Keep your boiler stoked for a bit longer. By the way, Carl, Sheila, because it’s transported from elsewhere you can use the cream and drink any liquid from the Rose soda fountain, but by the incest rule you can’t milk her yourselves. But ask her nice and she’ll allow anyone else here to refill any of these cream jars. And you really should all experiment with the cream. Did I mention it’s magic? And it’s safe to consume, with a mild vanilla taste.”

“OK, Vicky, open the big wrapped box in the corner and place what’s inside it on the mattress in front of Rose and plug it in. Bring the black felt marker as well and give it to Marc”

Vicky gets up. Her eyes are wide, she’s not really part of these people’s lives, but has found herself surrounded by perverts, aliens and suburbanites. She undoes the gift wrap to show a loosely closed plain cardboard box. Inside the box is what looks like a white leather saddle with a flat solid bottom and some obvious heft from a motor inside with a rubber dildo sticking up from the center once screwed on. An electrical cord comes from the base. When Vicky plugs it in it starts to hum and move imperceptibly. Rose goes up on her knees, pushes it under her and sits squarely on the artificial dick and slides up and down causing a wet slurping sound over the vibrator’s hum. Still she doesn’t cum, though the guys are all transfixed as her now extra-sized boobs swing wildly as she works herself into a frenzy.

“She can bring herself off with any dildo, cucumber, electric tooth brush, whatever, but it has to be prepared properly. To use it needs to have her first name on it, written, etched, or carved permanently and prominently. Marc, help Rose out and write her name on the front of that.”

Marc uncaps the marker, “Permanent”, and using one hand to steady the base to keep it from being sucked up with each of her risings—Rose’s bush grazing the back of his hand on each downward motion—he prints in large block letters “R O S E”, and as the “E” is completed she cums, loudly, with another flush of fluid all over Marc’s fingertips.

“Will. Sheila. Grab some of those paper towels and tissues and help them clean up then change the sheet. Don’t forget to wipe the liner. Betty, Annette, get a round of beverage for all. I think there are some fluids that need replacing.”

For maybe half a minute of stunned silence all is quiet except for some quietly whispered drink orders.

Will approached Rose with a roll of paper towels and for a second it looked like he was going to wipe her down, but she grabbed the roll out of his hands and started sopping up the now cooling sticky fluids from her body. Her tits are contracting, and there is a slow stream of cold beer flowing from her teats down her chest and stomach, no longer able to fit in the shrinking fun bags. Marc’s cum has started to dry and coats most of the upper body. She gets it off her face, but there is a white rim in her hair hardening around the edges framing her mug in jizz.

Rose had tried to show indifference since the end of her and Marc’s exhibition, though all the guys—and a few of the gals—eyes were glued to her hot bod as it wiggled and jiggled through the cleaning. At one point she caught Andy staring at her and turned cherry bright in embarrassment, but kept on going. She wasn’t enjoying this in all respects, but she was excited by it, and felt relieved that her part was over.

Betty asks, “How much of that is what you rehearsed?”

Marc answers, “Most of it. Didn’t know about the handshake. Or the, er, riding machine. But pretty much the same. I think you’ll be doing what you practiced, but with extras. Actually I feel pretty good now.” He then kneels down and kisses Rose’s hand like a chivalrous knight.

Smart boy. I let this sink in without comment.

Rose adds, “It felt pretty good. I’m all pepped up. But in front of all of you, geeze! Now it’s your turns! Ha!” She glared at them all, and then she blushed.

After Rose wiped herself down, refusing Marc’s help not wanting to start heating up again—Bounty, the quicker picker-upper paper towels for the wettest bits and then a blue terry bathroom washcloth to finish, she put the peignoir back on, and reached to button the front but it wouldn’t quite stretch that far, though in shrinking back to “normal” she would continue to empty her milk glands of the Old Waukegan—some was being absorbed too, and she was getting a little drunk, soon it turned to orange juice and them the first liquid she was made to lactate, milk.

“Rose, leave it open. Spread your robe over Troy’s lap and sit on it. Troy, you’d better hold on to her in in case she should fall off. Don’t let that beer go to waste.”

Rose started to say something again, but thought about it and kept her lips sealed, she was hoping to be done for the day. As she sat on Troy’s lap, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other tentatively and then more boldly cupped her exposed breast. There! Troy rewarded. There was a look on pure, unbelieving joy on his face as he said, “Wow, these are great! Bodatious!” Then he licked a drop of beer off each tip. A gentle squeeze helped empty them faster, and his sucking lips were sure to catch it all, wrapped around the nipples with each milking tug.

I could see that Rose was still very frightened of me—and had some idea of who I was and what I could do. But there was also some understanding there as well, I hadn’t asked anything from them that went beyond sex-ritual—no animal sacrifice, self-mutilation, murder or shopping at K-Mart. And if the price she had to pay was to have bigger tits and lots of sex, well that wasn’t too bad, really. Considering how it could have been. I should say that by this point I was guiding her thoughts somewhat, and Troy fondling her was starting to heat her up again. Hence the robe on Troy’s lap, to absorb any new moisture.

SHEILA AND WILL — FLAVORFUL

“Sheila and Will, you’re up. Will, shed the robe and get naked. Sheila, you don’t need to, yet, but you can at any time if you feel like it. Time for a trip around the world.”

“I got this idea from that Cosmo in the burner. Rose, Stella it was really smart of you to use it as well as the Playboy in your ingredients. Much better than using the Ken doll you had thought of first. Much more balanced. Sexier too.”

“OK Sheila, you start while I explain.”

“Will, Big Doll,” she says.

Will freezes in place.

Sheila takes Will’s face—cheeks in the soft palms of her hands and guides his head gently down, kissing and then licking the top of Will’s forehead, right at the hairline.

“How does it taste?” I ask her.

She grins as she looks out at the group, “Delicious!”

She repeats the kiss then lick a cunt hair lower on the now erect boy’s noggin. Then again and again lower and lower, slowly, lingering on each kiss, creeping around Will’s mouth, spiraling closer and closer. She gently positions Will as if he was a mannequin, and he doesn’t move otherwise except to breathe and his penis, which is bobbing excitedly.

“Sheila and Will are having a contest. She’s challenged to kiss, lick, nibble and suck just one time each every bit of exposed skin she can find on Will, while he can’t move except what he needs to do like breathe and whatever his wang-doodle wants to do. Sheila can position him. Sheila has no terrible boring chore either. Will is a sweet guy, so now he also tastes good. Kobe beef, butterscotch, cordon blu, 80 year in the barrel scotch good. Sell his toenail clippings for big bucks to Hershey’s to grind up and add to their chocolate good. And his semen, divine.” If I had lips I’d have smacked them while making an opening upturned hand gesture with my non-existent fingers. Sometimes being a floating magical egg isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. “Any ladies—not Betty or Annette—won’t work for you—if you are curious, go lick Will once and only once, it can be a long lick or short tongue tip-only peck—when you stop moving or lift your tongue it’s over. For now.”

“Sheila, hold up. Any takers?” Sheila stands aside.

I think Rose just wanted off Troy for a bit, his erection can be plainly felt under her bottom through their robes as he felt her up while dry-humping her by slowly gyrating his hips, while she was half-wishing half-dreading the fact that even a bone-head like Troy could get the idea to try the “Milky Rose” command.

She saw a way to get back, or at least communicate her displeasure at the indignities done to her. She straightened Will to stand tall, then licked her lips and put them onto his nipple, intending for a quick peck. But her curiosity got the best of her, she pushed her tongue between her lips and tasted his flavor. It was everything described. The shock made her pull back. She instantly regretted it. “Oh Wow! Can I have another taste?”

“Not now, later for sure. Any other Will-lickers out there?”

Rose actually pouted. As she slunk back towards Troy, I said, “I think Aram would like to get closer to you. Move to his lap now.” Not only did Aram sit up and grin from ear to ear, he opened his robe displaying his stiff dick. Rose picked up her robe from Troy’s lap and placed it over Aram’s hard-on, then sat on his lap side-saddle, both legs to the left of Aram’s. Aram reached around her middle, pulled her close and whispered in her ear.

“Oh shit” she thought as Aram lent forward and put his mouth around her nipple and started sucking while gently squeezing the breast in and out with his hand. She tried not to but moaned all the same on the first squirt.

“Damn I wish I thought of that,” Troy said. “What’cha drinking?”

“Beer”

“Like beer anytime? Cool”

“Hey!” Sam shouted, remembering that it was his brew that was being drained. “Stop it.”

By now Rose was starting to be all het-up again. The easiest way to find release was at hand, she pulled the robe off Aram and knelt on it in front of him, wrapping her tits around his cock. It only took a few up and down jogs before he came all over her chest and face. She came at the same time wetting her robe.

As she cleaned her puss and other sticky bits, I told her that Aram had his fun, to go sit on Andy’s lap next.

Meanwhile Stella got up-she was walking pretty gingerly, almost on the tips of her toes with her butt obviously clenched. She sticks her tongue deep in Will’s mouth then slowly drags it out, careful not to lose flesh on mouth-organ contact sliding across his face to his ear, where she realizes she’s run out of skin and reluctantly steps back. “Holy Cow, that’s amazing? How’s he going to keep from being eaten all up by the first cannibal he runs into?” Will winces but cannot talk until the contest is over. He hadn’t thought of that yet. Not that there were a lot of cannibals in Wisconsin since that Gein thing back in the ’50 before he was born—but there were biters—Rose had gone through a phase. And mosquitos.

“I’ll answer that. First though anybody else want a turn? Sorry Aram, girls only today.”

Vicky was next, a quick peck on the cheek and then a look of regret at not having lingered to get a fuller taste.

Gail got up last, and slowly circled the statue-like teen. If it wasn’t for the red red robbin bobbin’ along the way, he could be made of marble. She started he tongue on his shoulder and careful to maintain contact, licked he way down his chest through his belly button towards his dangling fun sacks.

“Careful,” I said. “Bring him off and Sheila will have to start again”.

I could see this caused Gail to smile, as much as she could with her tongue out. It was obvious she didn’t care a fig about what Sheila did or didn’t do. She licked his balls and then down the length of his cock ’till reaching the tip, then opening her lips and plunging as much of her mouth around it as possible.

“OK, the only place you can go from here is back off,” I told her. Which she did slowly, giving an extra final suck on the tip, where she was rewarded with a drop of pre-cum.

“It really is amazing,” she commented as she stood and Sheila resumed her voyage of lingual exploration in Will’s arm-pits—making him squirm involuntarily despite his ‘freeze’ state.

Stella asked about how we are preventing someone from turning Will into person stew or grinding him up as a seasoning flavor. “Will’s skin is magical. You can’t cut it with a knife. Even a chain saw, armor piercing bullets or mortar will fail, they will deflect, misfire, and on occasion turn on the wielder if they don’t desist. He’s Iron Man without the iron. But only when violently attacked. If he’s relaxed and consciously allows it, medical shots and such will still get through. But a knife in the back or bullet in the brain, not going to happen. In fact, while I am around, all plans to do any of you physical harm from others will not be allowed. This is my first promise. You’ll be late to the airport for any planes that crash, drunk drivers will swerve away from you. Any train you get on will arrive safely. Just don’t be stupid and push it like jumping out of a plane without a parachute, OK?”

I then added, “Assuming you all generate enough manna through your acts for me to be able do so.”

Sheila thrust her tongue down Will’s throat. Deeper and deeper, impossibly deep, a clear oily slime greasing the way. Will’s eyes go wide, but he can’t resist. This wasn’t part of the rehearsal, which had been pretty damn fun, he had reflected afterwards.

“Just relax and enjoy Will, just breathe like normal. Will may have got special skin but ”What did Sheila get?“ you ask. Sheila slowly withdraw your tongue so that just the tip stays in his mouth, then put it all back in.”

As she pulled out her tongue seemed to stretch to impossible seeming length, like a lizard or frog. There were gasps all around as she then plunged deep into his maw again.

Will couldn’t understand how he wasn’t choking, how he could still breathe despite the obvious blocking of his air passage. The meaty tongue was all in, almost to his gut, twisting and turning all the way down, sliding under one, then the other side, then both sides at once of Will’s much lesser mouth meat.

“Thing you should know about Sheila’s tongue. Sheila slow down moving and just let your licker do the work. Everybody listening? You’re going to like this, Carl.”

“When Sheila if French kissing, her tongue grows to fill the space, when it comes out she can shrink it back to normal or keep it long and prehensile for about 10 minutes. Not only does air pass right through, it filters out smoke and pollutants, and allows about 30% more oxygen through, giving a mild euphoric high and providing extra boost to his muscles. If you need to move furniture or dig a well, get Sheila to French you first, it’ll make it easier. And it’s going to make Will feel her ministrations more intensely, for sure.”

“Wow,” said a bug-eyed and deeply intrigued Andy. I knew then the plans had to include setting up him and Sheila—I would make sure she’d equally enjoy his “gift” when she tried it.

“That’s enough there Sheila, two minute limit on that extra oxygen. Keep traveling Sheila, Get him off or get off the pot.”

She withdrew from his pie-hole and her tongue returned to normal. Grabbing him by the hips, she sat him on the mattress and straddled him, throwing off her robe. The silk cream colored matching bra and panties showed a trim athletic body. It was a bit of a shame that despite being five years younger than Betty, her face hadn’t aged as well, it was quite pretty at one time but the hard living she’d done before meeting Carl had started showing up a few years back. Well I could change that. This was the first step.

“So what are the stakes in this game? Priceless. Will just turned 18. Sheila 37. Now Will’s body will gradually age 2 extra years and Sheila’s will regress two. If Sheila wins then they will complete this process by his next birthday, he’ll physically be 21 and Sheila physically 36 or so instead of 38. If Will wins this won’t happen until he turns 20 and finish when he hits 21 but physically be 23. But it’s not so bad, it’s not going to change either of their lifespans, Will then just loses the vestiges of adolescence earlier than he otherwise would have. We’re going to talk about aging later today, I promise. And you are all going to feel real lucky to be stuck with me organizing your lives when that happens. ”

OK, so I got some skeptical looks at that statement.

Sheila was straddling Will’s face sucking his toes, letting her panty wrapped puss dangle just above Will’s nose and his dick brush against her flat stomach. Unfair I thought. But not against the rules.

Meanwhile Rose had settled on Andy’s lap. “Don’t be down about your new tata’s” he told her. “They really are beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She snuggled a bit closer.

“I’d really like to touch them. Is that groovy? You can say no and it’s OK.”

She really didn’t mind being made to feel good, it was the lack of say that bothered her most. And she felt for the first time a bit of control. I saw this and was starting to understand how to get her to do what I wanted without using up my power by pushing. I had to make her remember that she had thought it through and chosen to go along with the plan, whatever I said the plan was. And then she’d do it the best that she can. Excellent.

“No, It’s OK. I think I’m going to be visiting a few more laps before the day is done.” And she added loudly, “THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH A GENTLEMAN AND ASKING.” Troy received her piercing stare.

Sheila removed her bra and her breasts dangled against Will’s legs, dick and then chest as she slowly kissed and sucked her way up the insides of his legs, alternating left and right as she went. This sent his cock into a somewhat comic frenzied waggle. But if she kissed it she lost, and she was running out of skin.

Suddenly she flipped him over and raised him up onto his hands and knees and plunged her tongue into his ass. Deep I’d say, she’d used her mighty tongue powers to cut right to the chase and tickle his prostate from within. He let out a howl and came all over the sheet.

“Score! The winner—Sheila! You figured out that strategy without any help at all. So as a bonus, smear as much of Will’s cum as you can over your skin—for the next 30 seconds it will act as powerful anti-wrinkle lotion and age-inhibitor and reducer.”

Will, released from his manikin-like existence started to collapse downward on top of the sticky sheet. Sheila was having none of that and pushed him over to the side with one hand while scooping as much off the mattress on her index finger as she could, bringing it up to her forehead and then using both hands to spread it around her eyes, nose, lips and chin. A second trip to the mattress found another glob of cock-spit, which was quickly massaged into her neck and across her chest and belly.

“Times up” I said just before she brought up the third and smallest glob off his dick towards her belly. She though for a second what to do with it, then remembered what I’d said and sucked it off her finger. Where she had spread his seed had gone bright white, like clown makeup.

“It does taste divine. Even better than his skin. I’ve never had anything like it.... wow.”

“Before we continue, Sheila, do you want to know a bit more about what your amazing new tongue can do?”

“Of course”

“First is it can grow to fill a space in a lover. Mouth, ass, pussy whatever. And when like that it has strong muscles that can push in any direction all the length of it. In that state it secretes a slippery mucus that lubricates, coats and protects it, keeping unpleasant tastes to a minimum and shedding any picked up food or feces, such as when it goes up the poop-chute or into a nasty mouth that just ate a Big Smack.”

“Second, your sense of taste is much more refined. You can distinguish all the ingredients in the food you eat, and if you have learned their name once, you can always identify them. You can tell right off from one sip the Coke formula, from one bite the Colonel’s Secret Recipe and if the fish they serve you at a four star restaurant is really fresh, or they are passing off the frozen kind.”

“Third, you now are very good at picking up new languages. All you have to do is try. But the words don’t sink in to your brain until you say them out loud.”

“Fourth—Incredible blowjobs. You can extend that tongue up to a foot longer and its powers reaches all the way past the back of your throat. You can swallow even Carl’s monster to the hilt and wrap your tongue around his balls. And for those without Carl’s, er, girth you might have enough length to lick their ass when deep throating. Or even get the tip in. Think of that. Test your ‘mouth-tongue-balls-ass technique’ out with Will during the next pairing, he should be recovered by then and you’ll be the first to fully taste his new flavor. I can assure you that you start as master-level fellatiatrix and will only get better with practice. Call this BJ a consolation prize to Will for his lost youth.”

“Betty, bring your hand-mirror in here and let Sheila see herself.”

As Betty ran upstairs to her dresser, the group turned to look at Rose, who was now kneeling between Andy’s legs giving him a boob job. She didn’t even need to be asked, his fondling had excited her enough to want to feel his dick between her full, fleshy hangers. It only seemed fair to her.

Betty handed Sheila the mirror as Will sits up and grins goofily. “I won’t really miss what’s left of puberty. Does this mean I can buy beer?”

“No,” Sam says, reflexively.

Sheila gasps in dismay to see her clown white face. “It should just be dust by now. Wipe it off.” She grabs a tissue and moistens a corner of it in her mouth, then starts wiping her face. Bit by bit her new look is revealed, no wrinkles remain, but even where the deepest were are now just faint laugh lines. A peek in the mirror again, another tissue and as she sees more and more she speeds up her cleaning.

“I think you should go up and look at yourself in the full length bathroom mirror,” I suggest.

She races up the stairs, not bothering to dress, still just in the flesh colored panties.

“OK, this seems like a good time for a comfort break. A round of drinks, and perhaps this would be a good time to bring out the snacks you made, Betty. We still got a ways to go yet. Then it’s your turn. Troy, change the sheets, Annette help him.”