The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Lie down on the bed, bitch.”

Candace complied quickly, positioning herself faceup on the bed. Her legs were spread slightly, stetching the black leather miniskirt taut and almost allowing a glimps of her pussy. Rick would soon be getting more than a glimpse.

Rick shrugged off his clothes and climbed up onto the bed, standing on his knees next to Candace’s supine form. His cock hung half-erect, pointing at Candace. “Blow me, bitch.”

Candace squirmed around to a position in front of Rick and bent her head to his member. Wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, she began to suck eagerly, pumping her head up and down his shaft. Rick’s cock swelled again as he recieved the second blowjob of the night from the slut. Already she was improving. He placed his hands on the sides of her head, modulating her pace. It felt so good.

He was tempted to come in her mouth, to shoot his sperm down her throat. She wouldn’t enjoy it, but she’d accept it. But he couldn’t do that now. There was something else he had to do. Just this once. And then never again. Never.

Rick gently pushed Candace’s head off his cock. “Lie down, bitch,” he growled. Candace quickly flopped down on her back, spreading her legs as far as the tight skirt would allow. She looked up with her doe-like eyes, gazing eagerly at him. She was finally going to get it.

“Lift your skirt, slut,” Rick commanded. Candace eagerly reached down, grabbing a fist full of leather and yanking upwards. The skirt bunched around her waist, leaving her glistening wet pussy exposed. Her breathing was rapid now as she continued to stare raptly at Rick.

Rick lifted her legs, still clad in stockings and spiked heels and placed them over his shoulders. He positioned his swollen purple cockhead at the entrance to her fuck tunnel and met her gaze. “Do you want to get fucked, bitch?”

Candace’s head nodded slowly even before she started to speak. “Yes, master,” she whispered.

“Beg me to fuck your worthless cunt.”

Candace paused for a second, then began to squeal. “Please, master, fuck me, fuck me with your hard cock.”

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

Candace’s voice rose in pitch, her sdesperation showing. “Pleeeease, master. I’m your cheap little slut, begging you to fuck her juicy cunt with your long, hard cock! Please, master, split your whore in two with your stiff prick and come inside her!” Her hips were making jerking motions toward his cock, as though tring to grab it and pull it inside. “Please, use your fuck-hungry bitch to sheath your throbbing tool! Use me like a rag doll and spurt your hot jism all over my slutty face! Just fuck meeeeeee!”

Rick shoved his cock deep inside Candace’s sopping wet snatch. Candace screamed in ecstacy, The feeling was like nothing he’d ever experienced. She was so tight! He paused for a moment, his cock embedded in the slut’s steaming pussy, savoring the pressure on his shaft. Candace’s scream faded, to be replaced by a shallow series of audible pants. “Keep talking, bitch!” Rick admonished.

“Oh, yes, master,” she groaned, “fuck your dirty little slut! Fill up her wet pussy with your hot jism!” Rick withdrew his cock until only the head was engulfed in the folds of Candace’s cunt, then thrust it back in again to the hilt, eliciting another shriek of pleasure from Candace. Rick paced himself, trying to keep things slow to get the most enjoyment possible from this, since he wasn’t going to do this again. Ever.

Candace squealed rhythmically as Rick pistoned his cock in and out of her pussy. At last, she was getting fucked! It had taken him so long!

The pleasure was like nothing she had ever felt before. She savored each thrust, each new penetration of the throbbing member that threatened to split her open. Each time Rick withdrew his cock, she felt like crying in despair, and each time he shoved his manhood deep inside her again she felt happier than she’d ever felt before in her life. And each time, in the instant of complete penetration, when Rick’s cock completely filled her, she regretted each and every man she’d ever brushed off in her life. How many chances to get fucked had she let go to waste? How many possible masters had she passed up?

Her orgasm built deep within her, an unstoppable tidal wave of pleasure. Rick was fucking her faster now, harder, and she could feel his cock throbbing mightily within her. He had pulled the fabric of her halter top down off her breasts and his hands were now mauling the soft, tender flesh there as he fucked her more and more urgently, but Candace scarcely noticed. Her attention was focused on the cock filling her cunt.

Suddenly the dam broke; she felt Rick’s cock squirt a load of jism into the deepest recesses of her cunt. The feeling of her master coming deep inside her was too much. Candace climaxed, shrieking in ecstasy as Rick continued to spurt his come into her pussy. The come filled her cunt and began to overflow; she felt it dripping out of her pussy around Rick’s cock, which continued to squirt come.

At last her orgasm subsided, and Candace’s body allowed itself to relax. She could feel the come dripping from her cunt around Rick’s still-engorged cock. It was all perfect.

Her master had fucked her.

Rick watched as Candace’s eyes glazed over. The drug hadn’t taken effect yet; this was just a post-fucking stupor. He gently removed his cock from her sopping wet cunt, allowing rivulets of come to stream out after it, pooling on the bed. “Stay here,” he ordered.

“Yes, master,” came the weak reply.

Rick took a shower while waiting for the drug to take effect, and then dressed himself, whitling happily all the while. He went back into the bedroom to find Candace still lying where he’d left her, skirt bunched up around the waist, jism dripping from her cunt. Rick sat down beside her.

“Candace?”

“Hmmmm?” She was definitely under the effect of the drug.

“What just happened?”

“I got fucked.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

A smile crept slowly across her face. “Yes, master, I enjoyed it very much.”

“And you want to get fucked again, don’t you?”

“Ohhhhh, yessssss...” she groaned. A hand drifted down absently to play with her clit.

“But you don’t know if I’m good at it or not, do you?”

“You... were... real good...”

“But maybe another man could fuck you better than I did.”

“Um... Maybe...”

“So really, you’d be better off getting fucked by someone else next time, wouldn’t you?”

This took awhile to sink in. “G... Guess so...”

“But then, you won’t know if he’s the best, either. So you’d want to get fucked by someone else after that.”

“Uh... yeah...”

“What you really need, Candace, is to get fucked by a whole lot of different men.”

“Yeah... fucked... lots of men...”

“In fact, it’d be really convenient if you could get a job where all you do is get fucked by a lot of men all the time.”

“J-Job... yeah...”

“Now what kind of job might that be?”

One Year Later

Rick fidgeted on the couch, flipping through the channels yet again, bored out of his skull. A Friday night and Jennifer was out of town. Normally they would have gone out for dinner, or dancing, or even just stayed home and gone to bed early. But she was in Phoenix until tomorrow afternoon. Thank God at least they still had Saturday night.

Jennifer had gotten the Assistant Manager for Procurement position at about the time they’d gotten married, six months ago. That had been a big step up for her, and she’d made it entirely on her own; Rick hadn’t used the hypnotic drug on anyone in over a year. Jennifer had had to pinch-hit for Rick on a major presentation to the company CEO when Rick had come down with mono and been rushed to the hospital. The CEO had been so impressed with the young secretary’s performance he had offered her the vacant procurement position. It had meant an end to their daytime sexual escapades in the office, but they’d dealt with that just fine; they made up for it at night. And even having offices on different floors of the building didn’t preclude an occasional fifteen-minute “consultation”.

The downside of Jennifer’s new job was that she spent a lot of time on the road, leaving Rick to fend for himself for a few days. He was eagerly anticipating her return tomorrow; he had a welcome planned that would sweep her off her feet. And into the sack.

Rick had to admit there was another downside; their sex had been missing something since her promotion. She seemed to still like it just fine, but Rick missed the idea of fucking his secretary. Not that the sex wasn’t still great, and not that he regretted Jennifer’s promotion, but there had been something exciting about having sex with someone who was subordinate to him. A sense of... what? Control? He’d been getting the feeling quite a lot, lately, that he’d once had something else. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it...

The phone rang, and Rick picked it up. Jennifer at the airport a day early, maybe?

“I have a collect call from Jennifer Logan. Will you accept charges?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rick replied. “Jen?”

“Hi, honey!”

“Hey! How’s my little noodle doing in Arizona?”

“Well, that’s the bad news, honey. The supplier is balking at the contract we negotiated. They’re just stonewalling to get a better deal, but it looks like it’s going to keep me here until Thursday, at least.”

Rick groaned. “Dammit. Well, if that’s the way it is.”

“’Fraid so, honey. Listen, I gotta get back to work here.”

“All right. Call me later.”

“I won’t be free here until midnight, at least. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you. Bye.”

Rick hung up and sighed. Dammit. Another five days of being horny and alone. He retuned to channel-surfing. Surely in 83 channels there had to be something on.

“...deny any involvement...”

“...kiss me, Eric...”

“...another rebound for...”

“...YOURS for only twenty-nine...”

“...you bitch...”

“...antelope can run at speeds of over...”

Rick paused. Bitch. The word resonated with him. He flipped back one channel. The show was a prime-time soap opera. The young man on screen was yelling at a young woman wearing high heels and a skintight dress. “You slept with my brother, you slut!” Rick thought it odd that he would consider her a slut just for sleeping with another man. Hell, in that dress, she looked respectable compared to... Candace.

Rick hadn’t thought of her in over a year. Memories suddenly came flooding back. Candace walking on six-inch spiked heels, her ass swaying back and forth inside a black leather skirt...

Rick tried to push the memories out of his mind. No, no, don’t think about it.

Candace running her tongue across a glossy, pink upper lip...

Rick remembered hypnotizing himself to not think of her. He realized his mistake: he’d forgotten that post-hypnotic suggestions weren’t permanent; they weakened over time.

Candace on her knees, looking up at him as her lips enveloped his cock...

Rick was overwhelmed as a year of repressed rememberings washed over him at once. He closed his eyes, struggling to regain control of his head. But the images wouldn’t stop.

Candace panting and moaning as Rick thrust his cock deep into her cunt...

A year of repressed sexual urges came with the memories; Rick discovered that his cock was straining against his jeans. He was more aroused than he had over been in his life.

Candace thrusting her tits upward as her back arched in a violent orgasm, her pussy squeezing his cock tightly...

A phone number jumped unbidden into his head. In all this time, he’d never rememberd, but neither had he forgotten.

His mental stability returning, Rick picked up the phone off the coffee table and dialed the number. The line rang twice before it was picked up. “Starlight Escorts,” announced a feminine voice.

Rick’s throat was raw. “I’d like to see one of your girls tonight.”

“Certainly, sir. We’ll send our next available girl to you as soon as...”

“I mean a specific girl.”

There was a slight pause. “Who did you have in mind, sir?”

Rick was silent for a few seconds before he could force it out. “Candace.” The first time he’d said that name in a long time.

There was another pause. “Sir, she won’t be available for two hours. If you’d like to...”

“I’ll wait.”

“Very well, sir.” The receptionist took Rick’s address, warned him that Candace might be late, and hung up. Rick leaned back, and exhaled deeply. He was back in control of himself, but he was a very different man than he’d been five minutes ago.

The post-hypnotic suggestion he’d given himself had worn thin over the course of a year. But what of the suggestions he’d given Candace?

“Oh, yeah, honey, that’s good. Do me hard, baby. Yeah, that’s it.” Candace recited her lines from memory, hoping they would hurry this jerk to orgasm and get her out of his house. The white hair he’d combed over his bald spot was falling off, and Candace found the whole scene extremely unarousing.

A year ago, it wouldn’t have turned her off, she recalled. A year ago, when she’d first started, even this rude geezer would have been able to send her to a furious climax just by sticking his wrinkled cock into her cunt. But after awhile, her sexual ardor had trailed off. These days, the occasional young stud could still bring her to orgasm, but that seemed to happen only once every few days now. In between, she faked orgasms with her clients and masturbated after work.

It looked as though she was going to have to fake one soon. The geezer had started breathing faster, and picked up the pace of his humping. Candace prayed he didn’t have a heart attack. He was so fat she’d probably never escape. She tried to hurry his orgasm along by humping back at him and launching into the series of cries she knew by memory. “Nnggh... oh... yes... yes... mmmm... oh, God... this is incredible... yes... harder... harder... nngh... mmm... YES! YES! YES!”

Candace congratulated herself on a job well done as she felt the geezer’s cock throb pathetically inside her, a sensation rendered almost indetectable by the condom he wore. At first she’d resented having to use a condom, because it interfered with her pleasure. Recently, though, she’d come to appreciate it, since it kept her from having to clean up every time. And most of the time, she wasn’t going to get off anyway, so the condom hardly hurt in that respect.

The geezer grunted in satisfaction and rolled off of her. Candace got up and picked her clothes up off the floor. It was her usual summer uniform—a lightweight cotton shirt, white, which she wore unbuttoned and tied in a knot under her breasts, and a pair of extra-short denim cutoffs with a few tantalizingly placed holes. A pair of fire-engine red “fuck-me” pumps completed the ensemble.

The geezer lifted himself up and watched her as she dressed, staring unabashedly. Asshole, Candace thought. When she’d first arrived, he’d acted as though she was some sort of upper-crust, high-society rich girl paying a social call. He’d done his pathetically inadequate best to be charming, pretending to be interested in her as a person. Now that it was over with, he just looked at her like she was a piece of meant. Candace hated the hypocrisy; at least the honest ones didn’t waste all your time beforehand with drinks and conversation.

“You know, you’re quite a sexy little bitch.”

Candace swooned, almost falling before grabbing the top of the dresser to steady herself. She hated the bastard for calling her a bitch, and she hated herself for enjoying it. But he hadn’t paid yet, so she had to be nice. “Thanks, honey. You’re not too bad yourself,” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster, standing upright. She liked it better when she got paid up front, but the geezer was a regualar customer of the service, so she had to let him pay afterwards.

The transaction was concluded without any further interchange, thank God, and Candace left the house as quickly as she could, thinking all the while. Why the hell did she enjoy being called a bitch? Somehow verbal degradation seemed to get her excited. She was convinced by now that something traumatic had happened to her a year ago, something so horrible she was repressing the memories. After all, why would a successful reporter for a leading feminist magazine suddenly quit her job and go to work as a call girl?

The work had seemed fascinating at first, but lately she’d started to lose interest. She had toyed with the idea of getting out of the business before, but now she was considering it seriously. Tomorrow was her day off, and she had an appointment with a therapist. It was time to sort out her feelings and get some answers.

She climbed into her car and retrieved the pager from the glove compartment. The light was flashing and a new address came up on the LCD screen. Last one tonight. She wiped off her makeup with a tissue and washed her face with a few handfuls of water from a thermos. She always took her makeup off after a job; it was invariably smeared and needed to be redone.

She sighed and began to drive. Maybe today was her lucky day, and this next one would be under 40. It would be nice not to have to frig herself to orgasm tonight.

Candace pulled up at the address she’d recieved on her beeper. It was a small, modern townhouse in a recently built housing development. This was the sort of area that recently married young couples tended to live in. Candace tended not to get many calls from areas like these. Most of her customers were either older—living in more expensive houses—or unmarried—living in apartments in the city. Chances were it was some horny husband whose wife was out of town, looking for a quick bite of the forbidden fruit, too stupid to think about the possible consequences of the neighbors seeing a scantily clad young woman coming by in the evening. Oh, well. Not her loss.

Candace examined herself in her makeup mirror, giving her hair a slight tease. At her employer’s suggestion, she had had it cut to a sassy shoulder-length style and dyed strawberry blonde when she’d first started working as a call girl. Since that time, she had come to respect the wisdom of that suggestion; her customers seemed crazy about the look. Often she styled it so that it curled inward slightly to touch her cheeks; men seemed to go wild at the feel of her hair brushing against their balls when she gave head.

She reapplied her makeup slowly and carefully. If the behavior of the fat old bastard she’d just serviced hadn’t been enough motivation to find a new line of work, having to apply her makeup for the umpteenth time that day certainly was. A year ago, she’d loved to paint her face. There had been something arousing about making herself look like the complete slut, getting ready to blow the mind of her next customer. She’d even reapplied her makeup immediately after wiping the old stuff off, before driving to her next job, because she’d enjoyed the feeling of looking like a tramp.

She remembered getting pulled over for speeding in her first week on the job, and how the officer had been so dumbstruck by her appearance. It had been on a backwoods road late at night, so she’d put on her best bimbo-voice and stood in front of the officer, asking if he couldn’t please forgive her for being a naughty girl, such a bad girl. She remembered the look on his face as she’d removed his policeman’s cap and put it on her head before kneeling, pulling out his cock, and giving him one of her masterful blowjobs, occasionally pausing to remark on how she’d always wanted to get fucked in the backseat of a police car. The officer had been willing to oblige, of course, and had come not once, but twice, once in her pussy and once on her face.

Looking back, it amazed her not so much that she’d done it, but that she’d enjoyed it so much. But that had been in the days when she’d relished the thought of being a slut, a whore. A bitch. Hearing the words themselves spoken to her still gave her a certain thrill. But she no longer used them in her own mind. She no longer aspired to be a slut. The last time she’d gotten pulled over, she hadn’t even tried to seduce the officer. Her heart just wasn’t in it anymore. She had to quit.

She finished applying her makeup and squared her shoulders. She was going to get this one over with, and quit.

She got out of the car and walked to the door, ringing the bell. A muffled voice from inside the house yelled, “Come in!”

Candace opened the door and took a few steps inside. She could see parts of a dining room, a kitchen, and a living room from where she stood. No one was visible. “Hello?” she called, “I’m looking for Rick.”

“That’s me, honey,” a distant voice called back. “Have a seat. I’ll be right out.”

Candace walked into the living room and sat down on the edge of a couch, looking around the room. The room was quite tastefully decorated. There was obviously a woman’s touch involved. Candace smiled a little at that. Married men were often more interesting customers. Something about adultery excited men at a primal level. They were born to be assholes. She almost laughed at the thought. A year ago, when she’d been a feminist journalist, she’d thought the same thing, but for almost entirely different reasons. It was funny how one’s thoughts came full circle.

She spied a picture on the fireplace mantel of a happy young couple. Something about it disturbed her.

Candace stood up and walked over to the fireplace, peering at the picture. The woman was a beauty, with strong classical features and soft, thick, curly brown hair. The man was... familiar... she couldn’t quite place it, but...

She remembered.

Her knees buckled and she fell, catching herself on the mantel. She fought the surge of memories suddenly unleashed into her mind. No, it couldn’t be... That couldn’t have happened... “I... I didn’t do that!” she protested.

“I see you remember me, slut.”

Candace whirled to face the source of the voice. It was... him...

Master.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, leaning nonchalantly in the hall doorway, wearing the same smirk he’d worn when she’d begged him to fuck her.

“N-no...” she pleaded, shrinking away from him. It didn’t happen, she told herself, it couldn’t have happened.

“Yes, I’m afraid so, my little bitch,” he replied casually, standing and strolling slowly toward her.

Candace groaned at the electric thrill the word sent though her spine. It was so much stronger than what she’d felt when the old man had called her a bitch, because she understood now. She had been this man’s bitch. “Stay away,” she pleaded. “Don’t come near me, you asshole.”

He stopped, a look of amusement on his face. “Oh, come now, is that any way to talk to the man who brought you such pleasure?”

“Get away from me, I mean it!” The words rang hollow, even to her.

He was walking toward her again. “That doesn’t sound like the Candace I know. The Candace I know would’ve begged me to touch her, to feel her, to use her. You were such a slut back then. All you wanted me to do was fuck you like the hot little bitch you are. You still do, don’t you?” He was standing in front of her as she flattened herself against the sliding glass door next to the fireplace. Her breath came in shallow pants as terror and arousal battled within her.

“You... it was you... You made me want it... I don’t know how, you bastard, but you made me do it. You made me...” She knew it was true. It was the only explanation.

He only shrugged. “Maybe I did. It’s not important now. What’s important is that you’re my bitch, and I’ve decided to make use of you again.”

“You bastard!” she screamed, tears running down her face, ruining the makeup. “What gives you the right to do this to me?”

“Nothing. You were a cock teaser, always promising but never delivering. I did it because you were an uppity little cunt and I thought you needed a good fucking. So I made you my bitch. And now you’re going to suck my cock. Here, I’ll help.” He unzipped hus pants and pulled them down, his hard pecker springing into view.

Candace froze in terror at the sight. She’d seen so many cocks over the last year—big ones, small ones, long ones, fat ones—and she’d touched them, sucked them, taken them up her cunt and even her ass, but this one terrified her. It called to her. She felt her willpower crumbling.

“Suck my cock, now,” Rick commanded.

Candace spun around, scrambling at the handle of the sliding glass door. She jerked her arms against it twice, but it was locked. Desperately she clawed at the lock switch, but her inch-long red talons prevented her getting a grip on it, and the tears pouring from her eyes blurred her vision. Sme beat a fist against the door as she slowly sunk to the ground, sobbing, curling her arms around her head.

“I said, suck my cock, whore,” Rick commanded.

Candace lifted her head a little, peering out from behind her shielding arms at Rick’s cock. Her master’s cock... No, she couldn’t.

But she wanted to. Slowly she lowered her arms. Maybe he’d fuck her. She wanted him to fuck her. She needed him to fuck her.

“Blow me, bitch!” her master commanded.

Candace rose to her knees and brought her head up to face his crotch. Slowly she extended her tongue to lick the tip. She’d forgotten how good her master’s cock tasted. A small part of her still protested, but the voice was getting fainter all the time.

Her lips enveloped the purple head and she sucked luxuriously. She felt her master’s hands on her head, pushing her down onto his cock. A sensation she hadn’t felt in over a year, but more familiar to her than breathing. She slowly began to pump her head up and down on his cock, returning to a world that felt like home.

Rick leaned against the door with one hand, steadying himself against the wave of pleasure he felt at the feel of his slut’s mouth enveloping his cock. The feeling was old and familiar. How could he have ever left this behind?

He looked down at the whore’s face. The haircut and dyejob looked good. He hardly recognized the militant feminist he’d once dated behing the makeup and jewelry. And her cocksucking technique! God, he’d never realized how good she’d be after spending a year fucking for a living. He closed his eyes end enjoyed the feel of her tongue swirling around his shaft as he guided her head up and down his member.

The knowledge of the danger he’d been in only moments before made it all the more exciting to be using this tramp. He’d been almost terrified when she’d failed to respond immediately to his approach. The conditioning had worn thin. It had taken all his nerve to remain calm. If he’d shown any uncertainty, she would’ve escaped. It was only his appearance of certainty that had defeated her. And if she’d gotten away... well, he didn’t like to think of that.

He felt his orgasm fast approaching. Gently, he slid Candace off his cock. “Take it on your face, slut,” he growled. She obeyed meekly, positioning her face under his cock, which she grabbed with both hands and jacked furiously. he rested his hands on the top of her head, intertwining his fingers into her hair as the first spurt of come landed on her forehead. The bitch continued to work his prick as the second splashed on her cheek, and the third on her nose. By the time Rick’s orgasm had subsided, he had blown his spunk all over her face and into her hair. Rivulets of come ran down her neck. What a fabulous slut.

And that was what he needed. A slut. Jennifer was a wonderful lover, but she could never be this for him. And part of him would never be satisfied unless he had a bitch to do with as he pleased.

Candace had fallen to a sitting position. Her hands were inching toward her cutoff jeans. Slowly, she was beginning to rub herself through the denim, a look of bliss on her jism-coated face.

“Stop that, slut!” Rick growled. Here eyes opened in fright, and she froze. The little whore would get off when and if he chose. “Stand up!” She complied, looking at him meekly. “Turn around, spread your legs and lean your hands against the door.”

Candace complied. She had to bend over quite a bit to rest her hands against the glass door, and her ass was thrust out in front of him. Rick reached a hand down and idly began stroking her groin through the denim, eliciting a moan from Candace. His hand wandered up and down, tracing the outlines of her cunt through the fabric. He found her clitoris to be fully erect, and scratched the denim covering it. Candace groaned and tossed her head in pleasure.

Rick examined the rips and tears in the cutoffs. He selected one on her left asscheek, only a few inches away from the crack and inserted both hands. He pulled it apart, and the tear expanded, its lower end migrating downward and inward, toward her crotch, exposing the bottom end of the soft folds of her pussy. He stopped tearing and stuck a hand through the newly torn hole to finger her swollen clit. Candace groaned loudly. Rick saw in the reflection of her face that her eyes were closed and her lips drawn back from gritted teeth. The slut was enjoying this.

Rick withdrew his hand and guided his re-erected cock into the hole, sliding it in along the mouth of her cunt, between her pussy lips and the fabric of the shorts. He heard her breathing quicken. He began to slide his cock back and forth, rubbing it along her labia, brushing her clitoris at the end of each stroke. She gave out a soft moan each time his swollen cockhead rubbed her sensitive clit. Her hips jerked slightly against his thrusts, as though trying to draw him into her cunt.

“Not so eager to get away now, are you, cunt?” Rick asked.

“F... F... Fu... Fuck me, master!” she breathed.

“You want me to fuck you?” Rick asked in mock disbelief. “But just a minute ago you wanted me to get away from you. Maybe I shouldn’t fuck you.”

“Noooo... don’t leave... Fuck me, master.”

“Well, you’d better promise me you’ll do whatever I say, that you’ll be my slut,” he slid hi cock back and forth once, “my bitch,” he fucked her cuntlips again, “my little fuck-toy to do whatever I want with.”

Candace was silent.

“Promise, bitch,” Rick growled, grabbing her hair and pulling on it, causing her neck to bend backwards.

Candace was hyperventilating. The cock brushing against her pussy entrance was driving her insane. She had to have his cock. “I promise, I promise,” she shrieked.

“Say it, bitch,” he growled, pulling her hair just a bit harder. “Tell me what you’ll do,”

Candace spoke as quickly as possible, “I’ll be your slut forever. You can fuck me whenever you want, master, wherever you want. Fuck my cunt, fuck my mouth and come all over your face. I’ll be your cum-hungry bitch, eager to serve my master. I’ll be your sex-toy to play with however you want. Just fuck meeeee!”

Candace felt her master’s cock shift positions and slide up her cunt, filling her up completely on the first stroke. Oh, it felt so good. This was where she wanted to spend the rest of her life, impaled on her master’s cock. She’d wrapped her cunt around a lot of pricks in the last year, but none felt as good as this one.

Slowly her master began to piston in and out of her sopping wet pussy. The sensation was incredible. She hadn’t felt this good since... since the last time he’d fucked her. She felt his hands groping at her tits through the thin material of the shirt. His fingers wrapped around the top of the shirt and pulled down. She felt the shirt dig into her shoulders before tearing and hanging limply, releasing her tits to hang free. Her tits were somewhat larger than they’d been a year ago, thanks to the exercises she’d been doing to build her pectorals, but they were still just as firm. She felt his hands wrap around them, digging into the flesh, using her tits as extra leverage to shove his cock far into her.

She’d been fucked by so many cocks, many of them bigger than her master’s, but none quite so... powerful. Other cocks just fucked her, but this one somehow dominated. Her entire body felt its power as it pistoned in and out of her. She felt full and complete with it inside her pussy, and empty when it left. She worshipped her master’s cock.

The hands moved from her tits to her hips, and the cock entered her with renewed force. A hand grabbed her hair and pulled, causing her back to arch. The cock slammed into her cunt, knocking her chest against the glass door. Her master continued to fuck her with wild abandon.

The room was well-lit and the night outside dark. Candace knew that anyone outside could see her; she was on display like part of a live sex show, tits mashed against the glass, hips bucking against the cock inside her, face plastered with come. But she didn’t care. All the cared about was the cock brutally ramming her cunt. Her orgasm built.

She felt her master stiffen, his cock throbbing. A spurt of jism shot into her cunt. The sensation drove her over the edge. She hadn’t felt come in her cunt since the last time she’d been fucked by Rick. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. She shrieked and shrieked in pleasure as her cunt clenched her master’s cock tightly, milking it for all it was worth. This, she knew, was where she belonged. She would always be Rick’s bitch.

Rick hung on to the bucking whore as she thrashed through an orgasm. He was proud of the job he’d done training the bitch, that after so long away from him she still reacted so strongly to getting a load of his spunk in her snatch. He felt his cock continue to spray jism into her as her cunt muscles spasmed violently around it. He leaned on her as he came, pressing her tits into the glass of the window. Using his bitch was such a rush.

His orgam subsided and the torrential flood of come stopped. He felt his spunk seeping out of Candace’s cunt around his cock. He looked down and saw a pool of milky white fluid collecting on the floor. Candace shuddered beneath him as her orgasm subsided. Her face and hair were covered by a mixture of sweat and jism. She looked like quite the fucked-out whore.

Rick belatedly realized that the lighting conditions would allow virtually the entire neighborhood to see the fucked-out whore. He reached over next to the door to turn the lights off and looked outside. Several lights were on, and in some of them he could see people standing, looking his way. It was certain that they’d seen him fucking his bitch.

Rick sighed. Jennifer would be leaving him, then. There was no use denying it. Someone would tell her that her husband had fucked some blonde strumpet against the glass door of her living room while she was away. Well, it had been bound to happen sooner or later. Might as well do it the easy way and not try to fight it.

He realized he didn’t care about Jennifer. He’d miss her, but ultimately there was nothing he wanted from her that Candace couldn’t give him. He knew that he was a different man than he’d been two hours ago, and that the old Rick would never have considered leaving Jennifer. But the tidal wave of memory had swept away that Rick, and he was who he was now. And the man he was now needed a bitch.

There would be downsides for sure. Once the divorce was settled, Jennifer would certainly be at least antagonistic if not downright hostile to him at work. And people would be on her side. He’d have to leave then, and find a job somewhere else, likely at a substantial loss in pay.

These difficulties could be worked around. Although he’d be making less money, Candace already had a lucrative career as a call girl. She could easily bring in several hundred dollars a day. Sure, he’d get tired of her eventually, but now that the post-hypnotic suggestion had worn off, he remembered the stash of the drug he’d hidden—enough to train a dozen more bitches. At his new job, he’d have to make sure he had a good secretary...

But that was the future. No matter what was coming, Jennifer wouldn’t be home until Thursday. Plenty of time to reacquaint himself with his bitch. His cock, still rammed up her cunt, had softened slightly. He ran a hand across her left tit. His tit. He ran his fingers through her hair, savoring the feeling of possession. She was all his. She existed for no purpose other than to serve him. His slut, his cunt, his bitch.

All his.