The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a night of black and white.

There were no stars in the sky. The moon’s face was blocked by thick, roiling storm clouds, leaving not even a soft halo to show where it had gone. You couldn’t even see the clouds, really—in fact, gazing up into the sky, you could easily imagine that there was nothing at all beyond. Nothing but oppressive, endless void.

And then white fire would sear your eyes, cut across the sky like a crack in reality, and light would briefly flood the world to illuminate a strange and disturbing scene before you.

A man clad in the dark suit and high collar of a necromancer, wearing the violet boater cap traditionally associated with members of the prestigious Teeth Tower Alchemist’s Society, paced around the opening of a rather ordinary-looking well. His skin was pale, his green eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. His fingers wrung knots in a cord, tying them far tighter than they needed to be. As the lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, you would see his shoulder-length curly locks, currently drenched in the downpour, and you would see that he was surprisingly young and quite handsome, albeit plainly worn-down.

And you would see in the flash a gleaming, gigantic copper construction, resembling a massive pot or pail. The copper pot was etched with thousands of markings, streaked with brilliant greens and silvers from what must have been endless hours of deliberate staining and acid washing. It appeared to be a mastercraft of sigilmancy, necromancy, and something else—something that this man knew was more powerful still.

Alchemy.

Pure, devout belief. Dreams given form.

Nothing else, you would know, could sustain a man like this. Nothing else could drive someone to attempt a magical experiment of this magnitude upon a ley well.

Dr. Byron sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, smelling and tasting the ozone. He gave a nervous smile.

This was it. He ran his fingers over the Harness, admiring the inscriptions. This was the moment of truth. For too long the other mages of the Teeth Tower had mocked him, derided his experiments, suggested he was seriously unfit to practice alchemy, necromancy, or genuinely any form of magic at all due to his constant, barely-kept-in-check rage. They had said he was too ahead of his time. Too radical. Always on the delicate verge of losing his thin temper and shouting a colleague down.

They had called him angry. ANGRY! He laughed out loud, then bit his lip as his giddy excitement threatened to turn it into a villainous cackle.

Well, who’s angry now? he thought, maniacally wringing his palms. I’ll show them. I’ll show them all! They’ll see! They’ll see how wrong they were! This night will live on in—

“Master!” rasped a voice, and he heard clanking and clattering sounds coming up the hillside. “Master! It’s too dangerous!”

Dr. Byron turned back with a sly grin to see his buxom little goblin maid assistant, hunched under the weight of her three backpacks, come racing up the narrow stone path. Her ebony hair was drenched into little ringlets beneath an equally drenched hooded poncho, and she carried two large, steaming pots stacked on one another, nearly half her height. She handled the load well, but her long, knifelike ears, as green as the rest of her, drooped with fright.

“Jelli,” he said, clasping his hands together, “so kind of you to join me in my moment of triumph. I fear not even you can stop me, however—” He turned back to the Harness, admiring its size, and the vision it took to craft it. “—for nothing can, now. No demon, fey, or mortal can stand between me and my moment of greatness. Not even you, Jelli. Not even you.”

“Huh?” He glanced back. Jelli was tilting her head to the side, ears askew in that way goblins had of showing confusion. “No, Master, I mean it’s not safe to be up here with that dribbled lightning rod!” She pointed to his staff.

“Oh.” Dr. Byron blinked. “O-Oh.” He felt his face blushing bright red, and he self-consciously handed her the staff—and didn’t even have the heart to object when she simply threw the steel device down the hillside. “Right. Yes. Of course.”

“Honest-to-weddings, Master.” She rolled her eyes, setting down both pots on the ground. “Have I gotta handle everything for you?”

Dr. Byron managed to scowl at that. “Watch it, Jelli. So, you have it, then?”

“Sure as rain!” She smiled, opening the first pot. A gust of hot steam burst out. “Delicious chickpea-and-tomato soup! Mum’s recipe.” She reached into her second backpack and began fishing out a bowl and spoon. “It’ll help warm you right up!”

“… chickpea soup?” Dr. Byron felt his scowl deepening. “I thought I asked for—I made it plain, minion, that I desired a well-done steak and roasted potatoes! Did your mother not have a recipe for that?”

“Yes, well…” Jelli doled out a generous helping of the soup into the bowl and plopped a spoon inside, smiling as she smelled her handiwork. “Chickpea soup is a heck of a helping healthier, Master, and when it’s cooked proper—and my mum cooked proper, let me tell you—it’s a lot tastier than some overcooked steak and greasy earth apples.”

“But I asked for—” Dr. Byron gave up as she handed him the bowl, even though his gut roiled—less with disgust at the soup than at his inability to control the one minion he could afford. Jelli worked cheap and did essentially all the work around the lair except for the laundry and groceries (which they traded off on), but she was also constantly ignoring his authority. “Did you at least use the Channel?”

“That funny stove thingammerhuh you built for me? The one that always sparks and hums fiendtongue chants when I try an’ turn any knobs? Um…” Jelli bit her lip, avoiding his eye contact. “Sure! It worked great! Sure as rain, even.”

Goblin maids were generally good liars, but Jelli was the exception to prove the rule.

Dr. Byron sighed and waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Aw, Master, relax a li’l!” Jelli giggled, bouncing up to the other side of the Harness, helping to tie the other cord tightly. “You really oughtn’t eat meat, anyways. Red meat’s just awful for you, and besides, it’s really very cruel.”

“Did you acquire the cat cadavers?”

“Oh! Yes, I almost forgot!” Jelli hurried back to the second pot, opened the lid, and tossed the carcasses into the Harness. “Hard to find, they were, and the kitchen might be a bit wet ’cause I had to open all the windows to let out the stink of boiled beast. Plus, I had to break down the gate to a pet cemetery to get the last one, and I reckon the kid who tends it might’ve caught a glimpse of me on the way out, so if her parents come by asking questions—”

She continued to drone on. Dr. Byron tuned it out, as he had learnt to over the years, and watched her struggle with the knots. Like most goblins, Jelli had a way of jiggling and wiggling even when she probably didn’t mean to, and though her backpacks and poncho largely concealed her large, luscious ass, every now and then a gust of wind would blow the poncho up just right...

He couldn’t help it. In preparation for tonight, he had not masturbated in weeks. It wasn’t as if he’d chosen Jelli for her looks. They were just… a bonus. With her plump lips and husky voice, her spoon-shaped hips, her bright scarlet eyes and cute white freckles to compliment her prominent dimples…

… it really was a shame he had no interest in her. Romantically, anyways. Jelli was too bossy. Too keen on making him do as she wanted. His own assistant pushed him around like she was the boss—and she was the closest thing in this whole town, this whole world, that he had to a friend. But really, very deeply unsuitable as a romantic partner. Even if Jelli didn’t already have too much going on with her own projects. To say nothing of how far below his level she was—he, an accomplished ex-member of the Teeth Tower Alchemist’s Society!

“Master, it’s going to get cold,” Jelli chided him, turning back from the knots to regard him with a chiding pout.

Dr. Byron sighed. “Yes, Jelli.” And he began to eat.

But he gazed longingly at the Harness as he took his supper.

Soon, things were going to change.

The night stretched on, as did the thunderstorm. Occasionally the moon managed to peek through, giving a view of the sleepy village down below. For the most part, though, things were as dark as they were noisy.

“You know, Master,” Jelli said, as she hopped up onto her little stepladder (as a goblin maid of average height, the tip of her ears barely reached his chest), “I really wish you’d told me how all of this was going to work. Surely we could’ve just, you know, set the pail—”

“Harness.” Byron gritted his teeth. He leaned over the edge of the pa—the Harness, offering the other end of the ship’s helm-shaped glass bottle to her.

“The Harness,” Jelli said, enunciating the word with the air of indulging him, “up ahead of time, so you wouldn’t have to spend so long out in the rain. You’ll catch your death, you know!”

“Of what?” Dr. Byron muttered. “Of pestering?”

“What was that, Master?” Jelli raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Nothing!” he said hastily. “Would you take the other end already?”

“Oh, sure!” Jelli laughed and took hold. “Sorry, Master, I forgot you were waiting for me. You know, it’s awfully hard to hear you over this—”

Lightning flashed. Thunder roared and pounded the heavens above.

“You know what to do?” he shouted, as the wind swept his hat away, and his hair billowed into his eyes.

“Of course, Master!” Jelli shouted back.

“I’m going to count to three! One—”

“On three, or after three?”

Byron blinked. “What?”

Jelli rolled her eyes with a slight smirk. “You need to clarify things like that, Master!”

Byron was so cold and so frustrated, his lips fumbled for a moment to put words together. “I don’t—you don’t—I—on three! Of course!”

“Okay!” She beamed. “On three! One!”

“Wait, I was going to—”

“Two!” Jelly and Dr. Byron began to swing the glass wheel device back and forth, slowly, carefully. Byron had to abandon the point to focus. Everything counted in the next ten seconds, more than anything had in his entire life up to this point.

“Three!”

And with a simultaneous twirl of the wheel, they both let it drop. It went spinning down, moving with surprising slowness. Or maybe that was just Byron’s panic and adrenaline seeming to slow everything around him down.

Not waiting to watch, Byron ducked down, grabbed the knife from where it was impaled on the ground, and frantically sawed through the last strands of the cord on his end.

“Got it!” he and his assistant said at once, as both remaining cords holding the pail—the Harness—over the ley well snapped.

At the same time, the Catalyst crashed against the basin of the copper pot, and the hissing of multiple gases escaping rose to a barely-perceptible level in Byron’s ear.

Then the Harness dropped away and out of sight, deep into the well, and all that remained were the faint trailings of the vapors as they streamed down after it.

That and the silver cable still hooked onto the Harness and attached up above—above the little adobe roof of the well—to a winch made of solid green glass.

Dr. Byron was looking right at that winch as the lightning struck it. He watched the glass pulsate, visibly struggling to contain the charge. He watched the silver glow and flicker as the electricity infused it and shot down the line.

That lightning strike would be burned into his retinas for a long time. But so would the thought, expressed in a scream, a scream of pure belief—for without his belief, without his dream, alchemy would be nothing but superstition, nothing but a bunch of dead cats and seashells and semen and diamond dust in a copper pail—that he filled the air with, filled his mind with, the thought of what he had just done. What he had just created.

“It’s,” he screamed into the light, as the thunder roared around him, as he and Jelli were both sent flying away from the well by a pulse of force like nothing he had ever experienced, “a WIIIIFE!”

Then he hit his head on a metal staff someone had thrown on the ground, and the night sky was filled with stars.

“Master! Master!”

Byron’s eyes shot open. He found himself staring up into the eyes of Jelli, who was looking down at him with an expression like…

… like…

Wait, how could he see her? Why was it suddenly so light out?

Dr. Byron shot upright, nearly headbutting the goblin maid, and looked around in panic at the starry night sky, the beautiful moonlit hills. There was not a cloud in the sky. “How long was I out?” he demanded.

“Oh, good, you’re okay!” Jelli smiled, reaching down to help him to his feet. “I thought I’d let you sleep a little while, but then I noticed you somehow managed to find, erm, something hard to hit your head on, so I was wondering if you might’ve—”

“You let me sleep?” He whirled on her, staring down at the goblin maid as she smiled innocently up at him. “In the middle of—”

“Oh, hush, Master.” She rolled his eyes. “Honestly, it was just, like, a few minutes. Ten or so. Half an hour, tops. You needed a break.”

“I’ll tell you when I need to sleep! I can sleep when my work is complete!” Dr. Byron wanted to project fury into his voice, but he just sounded petulant. It didn’t help that he yawned partway through.

As she blinked slowly, pouting, he turned away—wincing at how his head ached with fast turns—and rushed up the hill. His heart was pounding. The storm had stopped. Had he thought clearly enough? Had the lighting been enough to permit the conduit?

He scrambled up the ladder and leaped onto the well roof, ignoring how the tiles clattered and broke and slid away under his fumbling feet. He began winding up the winch, working as quickly as he could.

Unfortunately, the weight of the Harness was immense, and Dr. Byron was not exactly living at his best. He panted, cranking the winch slower and slower on every round. “J-Jelli,” he managed, “Is it… can you see…”

“Master, stop that. You’ll make the headache worse.” Jelli folded her arms at the base of the well, frowning up at him.

“I have no time for your warnings! What’s in the Harness?”

Jelli giggled, glancing down. “You mean the pail?” she chirped.

“Jelli, I command you! I am your Master! You are my minion! You will—” Byron’s words broke like a deflating balloon as he lost the energy to shout and had to pour all he had into breathing in and out and pumping the winch.

“Maybe you should try lifting with your legs.”

Dr. Byron gritted his teeth, but he couldn’t deny Jelli’s words. He had no energy to argue with her. So he just did as he was told, and channeled all his frustration at being expected to follow his mere assistant’s instructions.

“That’s it, Master!” Jelli declared. “It’s up!”

Dr. Byron broke off, gasping for breath, and practically threw himself off the roof in his haste to lay himself down in the muddy grass. His suit was a mess. His hat was long gone. His face, he knew, had to be as red as a bag of turnips.

“Come on, Master.” Jelli sighed and helped him, again, to his feet. He could only nod weakly as she guided him to the Harness.

“Is it… is she…” Dr. Byron stared longingly at the copper pail. The electro-etheric charge had fried most of the designs off of the Harness, and there were places where the metal was blackened.

His gut went cold. In trying to make the Harness as conductive as possible, had he allowed it to be destroyed?

Would he have to start over? Wait for another lightning storm? Find another three dead cats? Go through all of this torment again?

In the face of fear and despair, impotent fury welled in him. This was Jelli’s fault. This was the Teeth Tower’s fault. Someone had to be to blame. It couldn’t be his fault. And it couldn’t be no one’s fault! There was always someone at fault! There had to be!

He was peeking over the edge of the pail—and seeing that no one appeared to be inside it, that he had failed utterly and completely—when a nimble shape sprang up from the side of the Harness he couldn’t see yet—bounced right over the edge and onto the grass before him.

Byron and Jelli both jumped, Jelli shouting a yelp of fright, Byron’s legs nearly giving out beneath him as he whirled to face this new…

… vision.

And the heart of Doctor Eveni Byron stopped. After a moment, it began to race.

The first things he noticed were her brilliant eyes—the left an almost neon green, the right an electric blue. They were unnaturally bright, curtained by thick, dark lashes, and were currently widened in excitement. Her eyes were beautiful, and as they met Dr. Byron’s, the eyelashes fluttered. Her luscious cyan lips curved upwards in delight. She gazed at him in liquid adoration. He stared back, head spinning slightly from exhaustion, injury, and pure shock.

No one had ever looked at him with an expression so full of… love. Devotion, even. Almost worship.

The second thing he noticed was her form. Clad in a lacy pink dress that matched her fiery red hair like the sweetest of valentines, her outfit only served to accentuate her lush curves—her simply massive breasts, barely contained, with visible cleavage vast enough to get lost in. Her tits jiggled and bounced from her landing, and he could instantly tell from the way they moved and squished together that they were softer than the softest swan-down pillows, smoother than silken blankets, warmer than a nice, cozy bed right next to the crackling fireplace…

The dress hugged those breasts tight as it stroked down the rest of her body, caressing her little waist and spilling easily over wide, generous hips that put even Jelli’s to shame.

She was slightly shorter than him, but as she beamed up at Doctor Byron, he found himself feeling strangely small. Powerless. Her odd eyes flickered. His tongue fumbled over words, and if anything, her smile seemed to widen as he mouthed something he could not quite muster sound for.

And just when he felt sure he was about to muster a meek hello, she rushed forward with a squeal of glee and seized him in a tight hug. “My love!”

“I—” Byron was cut off as she kissed him, and his words gave way to a startled moan. She was so soft. Her dress did nothing to keep her breasts from squishing against his chest, her sweet peppermint scent filling his lungs. As her hot body pressed against him, the breath slipped from him, and it felt like he was suddenly drifting in clouds. As her warmth pressed against his clad cock, he felt intense arousal firing to life inside him.

And she was a wonderful, perfect kisser, too. He felt his eyes closing in mere moments as her sweet lips smacked hungrily against him. Her moans filled his head. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and wrestled playfully with his own. Her lips were so plump and pouty, so clearly meant to kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him…

She pulled back with a giggle, and Byron found himself leaning after her without even thinking. He wanted more. More taste. More touch. But she was already gone, bouncing in place, licking and smacking her lips as though in satisfaction. Her hand had taken his, though, and her fingers were clasped with his without him really noticing. He stared at her, feeling strangely foggy. “W-Wha…”

“I’m Meiri!” she bubbled. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it chivalrously, with an extra loud, wet, “Mwah!” She clapped his hand to her chest, her eyes shimmering with such radiant joy he half-expected to see hearts swirling in those eyes.

Actually, he did.

The sight made him do a double-take. Her eyes were filled with swirling hearts—like a flight of butterflies soaring across the blue sky, a school of pink fish swimming through the murky green waters. They spiraled with hearts. Danced with hearts. The hearts seemed to spin and flutter about for some time, eventually coming to rest in the centers of her pupils, coalescing into two big, central rosy-pink hearts in her eyes.

He stared for a long moment, feeling strangely faint as he realized she was waiting for him to respond. Waiting for him to speak, not talking over him.

His hand was still being clutched between her cleavage. Her body was soft. Warm.

“I… I…” He struggled to find words. “I’m, um…”

“What’s your name?” she cooed, bouncing in place with unconcealed delight.

“D-Doctor Byron.” He swallowed, recognizing that this was not the answer she wanted from her little pout, and added, “Eveni.”

“Eve!” she sang, eyelashes fluttering. “Ooh, that’s, like, suuuuuch a pretty-pretty name!” She leaned in and, without even hesitating, kissed him on the lips again. She tasted so sweet. “Eve.”

“Um—Eveni,” he protested, frowning. ‘Eve’ was his childhood nickname. No one called him by nicknames anymore.

She blinked up at him, and for a moment, he thought she was going to argue. He braced himself.

But instead, to his surprise, she smiled and nodded eagerly. “Of course, Eveni!” She patted his hand fondly. “Whatever my love wants.”

“R-Really?” Eveni blinked rapidly.

She giggled. “But of course, my love! Why would I ever do something you didn’t like?” She pressed up against him, eyelids half-lowering to dusky bedroom eyes. “I mean, like… I’m your wife, aren’t I?”

He stared down into her pretty heart eyes and gulped.

“Created to… love you…” She gave a happy sigh, leaning in to kiss his neck as her hands ran over his body. Her voice was barely a breath in his ear. “… please you… give you ev-ery-thing you want…”

Whereas her voice was a breath, he was barely breathing. Unconsciously, his own hands drifted down, and he found himself cupping her generous ass. She squealed happily as he did so. “Everything?” he murmured, unable to help a slight smile.

“Be… mm… everything you want…” Her hands slipped down his body, caressing his sides, and started working at his trousers. She was grinding her hips against him, not even trying to conceal her wantonness. “Am I, like, doing a good job yet, my love?”

He struggled to parse the question as she lifted her head, fixed his eyes in hers, and kissed him. The kiss was as lusty and desirous as the first, but now she was also practically humping him, and he moaned with pleasure. Gods, she was so soft…

She gave a laugh like birdsong, pulling back and admiring him. But as he tried to form words again, she appeared to change her mind and impulsively leaned in to give him another kiss. Her sweetness mashed against him and turned his mind to temporary mush as she wriggled closer. “Oh, you’re so handsome, my love,” she moaned, biting her lip, “I just… need… to please you!”

He blinked rapidly, his lips stumbling over words as she kissed him again, and again. “I—mm—can’t—yes—Meiri!”

“Yes?” She pulled back, batting her lashes. Her expression was totally innocent, and Byron wondered if perhaps he should have put in more newt heads for intellect. She seemed perfectly unaware of how… pleasant… her kisses were.

As well as the effect her writhing hips were having on him. He struggled to find words to reply, to explain. “I… can we… pause for a moment?”

She blinked, then beamed and nodded. “Of course!” she cooed, tugging him by the hand. “Oh, my poor, sweet lovely Eveni, my poor boy, of course you must be exhausted!”

“Wh—no, I mean—” He stared dumbly as she darted in and kissed him on the cheek again. “I mean. Maybe a little.” He tried to ignore Jelli smirking over Meiri’s shoulder. As if she’d find it any easier to stay focused right now in his shoes. “But I don’t... need to go to bed.”

His words came out weak, uncertain, and again, Eveni braced himself for her to dismiss him.

But instead, she nodded, eyes widening. “Oh, my dearest lovely lovey-dovey love!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him tenderly. Giving up on trying to protest, he just let it happen. She was such a wonderful kisser, somehow even sweeter and softer than he’d imagined. She pulled back, smirking. “Of course you don’t! My new husband can do as he pleases.”

Eveni nodded firmly.

“He’s not… sleepy.” She winked. “Not even a little bit sleepy, no, no, of course not.”

He almost wondered if she was being sarcastic, but he hadn’t put sarcasm into the spell, had he? He’d crafted the Harness to create for him the perfect wife, his ideal woman. His ideal woman wouldn’t make fun of him.

He blinked rapidly. She certainly seemed sincere, judging by that dreamy, adoring gaze. There surely wasn’t a drop of guile in her, he decided. His sweet Meiri was nothing but love and sugar. “Not even a little bit,” she added indulgently, “sleepy.”

“Yes.” He nodded, dizzy from the nonstop hail of affection. He couldn’t quite remember what he’d been about to say. He smirked down at his hot little wife—his wife—and reached down to cup her ass with both hands again. “Maybe, though… maybe we should go to bed. It’s quite late.” He didn’t even bother to hide his true meaning. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jelli roll her eyes.

He needed to run more tests, he knew, with a pang of guilt. He’d just created life from nothing—created the first construct ever made without using a base fey creature. He needed to ask her more questions, examine the remnants of the Harness to be sure that nothing could have gone wrong.

But… He licked his lips as his new wife—and oh gods, she was his wife—smiled up at him, the hearts swirling so prettily around his vision as she went up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. “If that’s what you want, my love!” She nodded eagerly. “Whatever you wish, my dearest darling.” Her voice was almost sickeningly sweet as she nibbled his earlobe. Eveni normally didn’t have a sweet tooth, but he couldn’t get enough of this.

“Well…” He bucked his hips gently against her, watching her lips half-part in a gasp. He knew exactly what he needed to do. What she needed him to do. “I don’t know, my dear.” His heart fluttered with delight as she wriggled happily against him at the word, her smile dreamy and blissful. “What do you think?”

“I think…” Her eyes opened wide, and she blinked up at the sky. “Ooh, my love, look at that!” She pointed up.

He followed her finger. Up above them was the full moon, a beautiful, gleaming gold. “What?”

Feeling another kiss on his neck, he looked back. Mairi beamed up at him, his shirt suddenly half-unbuttoned to allow her warmth to press closer to him. “A honey moon,” she purred, grinding against him.

She was trying to tempt him. As if he needed temptation. He grinned and allowed her to lead them both down the hill. “Clean it all up, Jelli!” he called. “I’ll be back soon!”

He happily tuned out Jelli’s complaints.

He was too busy watching Meiri’s pretty rear bounce with every step down the slope she took.

As soon as they were back in the lair—a small cottage on the edge of the town, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a laboratory built somewhat in between the two—Eveni wasted no time telling his new ‘wife’ to undress.

She did with nothing short of ecstasy, peeling away her form-fitting dress and striking a pose, a finger on her pouty lips, her hips thrust out to one side. She smiled up at him knowingly, and Eveni knew without looking that she had noticed his… tent.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, licking her lips, “you seem… tense…”

He bit his lip. “I-I—”

“Shh.” A finger went to his lips. She beamed, batting her eyelashes. “My love, oh, lovely love—poor neglected thing…”

She let him grope and fondle her ass, leaned in and let him smell her hair, breathe her sweet scent as she kissed his neck and chest. “You haven’t had anyone taking care of you,” she whispered in his ear, “the way a sweet, handsome boy like you neeeeds to be taken care of.” She thrust her hips forward against him for emphasis, eliciting a soft gasp. “Isn’t that right?”

“I… I…”

“Haven’t had a truly loyal lover,” she hissed, guiding his fumbling footsteps towards the bed, “who will do everything you tell her.”

He moaned as his shirt fell away completely. He sank down onto the bed, staring up, stunned, at the perfect vision of beauty above him. His head was spinning.

Pretty blue lips curved upwards in a smile. Her eyes—had it always been her left eye that was green?—shimmered and sparkled and swam with hearts.

“I didn’t think you have,” she teased, straddling his hips. She started to rock back and forth, biting her lip. “O-Oh… you haven’t had… the pleasure you deserve… someone to love you…”

He stared up at his bride and licked his lips. “You love me?”

She giggled. “Well, duh!” He felt silly for asking such an obvious question, and felt his cheeks reddening. She must have noticed, because her face fell, and the next thing he knew he was being bathed in kisses. “No, no, I didn’t—mm—didn’t mean—mmwah!—poor, sweet, darling husband, my smart, clever husband, of course I love you!”

He panted. Her wriggling atop him, her unending kisses, were gradually overwhelming his senses.

“And I know you love me,” she purred, grinding her hips, “because I was made to be perfect, wasn’t I?”

“Y-Yes,” he groaned, and she kissed him again with a giggle. She was perfect. It was like Meiri knew every way to twist, wiggle, squirm to keep him as hard as he could bear and as needy as he could imagine. He stared up at her, wide-eyed, and watched her tits bounce. Perfect. She was perfect.

“I’m gonna take good care of you, aren’t I?” she gushed, rising up and falling. The springs of his old bed squeaked unhappily, but a very different kind of yielding was filling Eveni’s head as he watched her bounce in his lap. “Because, like, you know that’s what a wife should do!” She batted her eyelashes. “Take care of her darling, lovely, lovey-dovey dummy love.”

“I—” He was cut off as she seized him in a kiss, another one, and he moaned and bucked helplessly as her pretty eyes captivated his. Her lips captivated his. Her tongue captivated his. Her scent, her touch, her warmth, her soft embrace, her hips—

His struggles to buck upwards ebbed, then died, and he went limp in her arms. This pleased his wife, apparently, because she pulled back and stroked his hair, an adoring smile. “I just wanna, like, make you happy!” she cooed. Bounce. Bounce. His eyes settled dazedly on her tits. “And, like… you sure do… feel happy.” She put a finger to her lips with a smirk. “If only I could be sure!”

“I…” He was slurring his words. Dizzy from kisses, dumb from pleasure. “Could fuck me. Fuck your husband. And… and if I came…”

The creature’s eyes lit up, and she kissed her husband for the ‘good idea.’ “That’s sooooo smart!” she squealed, bouncing faster. He whimpered and moaned and babbled his need. “You have such smart ideas, my love. People must all think you’re the smartest boy in the whole world.”

“I… yes.” He nodded dully. “Yes, they do.”

She giggled, and for a moment, Eveni almost wondered if she knew he was lying.

But how could she? He felt a dazed smile creep across his face as his trousers were tugged down, and suddenly he was naked beneath this avatar of lust and love and devotion. His erect cock stuck straight up, and she was… was right above it.

How could she ever doubt him? She was his wife. He gasped and panted as she sank down onto him and started to rise and fall, smiling down at him all the while, the hearts swirling in her gorgeous eyes. She could never possibly imagine he had any faults. He had made her to love him.

She cooed and wriggled and bounced. Her praise started to rise in pitch, though, as she sped up her bouncing, as he managed to weakly buck upwards, longing to fuck his gorgeous wife’s brains out just as she seemed to be… to be… the thought slipped away as she lowered down to kiss him again. Dropped right into sweet peppermint brainless pleasure.

He had made her to love him more than anything. To need him. To crave him.

“Cum in me!” his wife was squealing, clinging to his unresisting body as she quivered and shook, intense pleasure evident on her gorgeous face, in her wide, shimmering eyes that seemed to flicker between green and blue whenever he blinked—“Cum, cum, cum, my husband! F-Finish your vows! LOVE ME!” Her voice gave way to squeals of pleasure as she came.

He had made her to love him forever, better than any mortal wife ever could.

He came into utter ecstasy, plunging over the edge into something beautiful, something pink and warm and soft and sparkly-glowy-spiraly, came like the lovey-dovey lovely darling love he was, came and came and came inside his hot, irresistible wife.

And even as he felt the climax giving way to afterglow, and her panting and gasping for breath began to subside, he found her beautiful heart eyes filling his once more, and his wife giggled.

“Good boy,” she cooed, stroking his hair. “But… that’s not all my handsome stud has for me, is it?”

And she started bouncing again.

Vaguely, he wondered why she felt a bit tighter than before. Or why he felt… bigger. More sensitive. Easier to arouse.

Even more vaguely, he wondered at the glass jar he saw her setting carefully on the nightstand, and the fond smile she gave it.

But then both her hands were on his chest, her eyes were on his, and his cock was inside her once more.

“That’s right, darling husband,” she cooed, rocking her lips and licking her lips in anticipation, “you wanna fill me aaaaall up, now, don’t you?”

Eveni struggled, but his thoughts were too slippery, too sticky, too ooey-gooey and lovey-dovey for him to manage words. She was too soft. And he felt… so… good.

He felt himself nodding meekly. Obediently. More. He needed more. She wanted more.

Eve was, he slowly realized, gulping as he stared up into those shimmering spiralling hearts and felt his cock beginning to throb with new life, in for a long night.