The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The episode with Suzi had shown that Debbie could be quite adept at manipulating me without my knowing about it. I didn’t know who else she was practicing on, and frankly, I didn’t want to know. My conscience was going along with the delusion that this was for self-preservation, allowing me to sleep at night. Even if Debbie didn’t know about Mr. Scary, I did, and he was perfectly capable of trying to develop her as a weapon, or create someone more—controllable. If he found out about her, we were again in peril, along with the rest of the world.

On a different front, Debbie’s interviews had seemed to dry up. “Would you consider interviewing out-of-town?” I asked her one night. “I can move to a lot of places, and I’m not tied to anyone here except you.”

“Well,” she replied, “I’m still trying to feel—settled. This is almost the longest we’ve spent together since we’ve been married, my mom and dad are here, and I have friends here. I don’t want to move just yet. How are we doing?” I told her that we were fine. I was earning enough to support us and we weren’t extravagant by nature. Besides, I still had some money left in the “Scary reserve” that I was saving for emergencies. “That’s good,” she said. “Sometimes I feel guilty about not earning anything, but I’m sure something will turn up soon,” she brightly smiled.

Something must have shown on my face, because Debbie immediately said, “No, I’m not going to try to rob a bank or anything with mind control. We’re trying to keep this our little secret, right?” I nodded, but she still wasn’t satisfied. “Are you still worried that I’m going to go off the deep end with it, just because you can’t stop me?” I told her that I was. Debbie sighed, “You, I don’t have to mind control. I mean, the smoking fetish thing is better, to be honest. You have such vivid fantasies and fetishes that... it’s fun. It makes me feel sexy, because your reaction is natural, not something I made you do with mind control.” She gently took my hand. “Frankly, I’m a little surprised that you aren’t more into the possibilities of my mind control, given how much it turns you on.”

“I’m finished with mind control,” I declared.

Debbie immediately disagreed. “I saw what happened when you realized that Suzi was under my control. The pill made it impossible for you to lie.” I turned away from her, feeling guilt, remorse, and anger at my lack of self-control. “Ray,” she gently began, squeezing my hand and moving so that I would look at her, “if it wasn’t for you, I’d still be the fat chick who lives down the hall and smiles shyly at guys she thinks she can’t get.” Now she could get anybody she wanted, and it was just a matter of time before she figured that out.

Suddenly, my wife’s sympathetic air dissolved, and she sat up quickly. “Oh, I get it,” she brightly said, “you can’t figure out why I’m so devoted to you, and why, when I could have any man I want, I’m still here, can you?” She sat back in her chair with a smug, content smile when I shook my head. “I would think that the answer is obvious. I do have the man I want.” Now it was my turn to give her a strange look. “I’m a simple girl at heart, with simple dreams, mind control ability notwithstanding,” she explained, looking completely transparent. “You treat me really nice. Even when I was completely under your power and you could have abused me... you didn’t, at least not publicly. I only have good memories of our—courtship.

“And one thing that’s really, really important to me is I know that you won’t screw around on me—and that I don’t need mind control to keep you faithful.” I opened my mouth to say something, but she continued, “You were celibate while I was in a coma for more than a year, and spent every free weekend reading to me. You were celibate when I walked out on you, supposedly never to return. You needed to be pushed—both mentally and physically beyond your ability to resist— in order to have sex with a chick who was designed to push your fetish buttons pretty hard. Let’s face it, Ray: you’re not the cheating kind, and we both know it. I’m old-fashioned enough to believe that such devotion should be rewarded.”

I looked at her with shock, wondering aloud if Debbie was getting information directly from my head. “No,” she flatly declared, “I can’t read minds—or if I can, I don’t know how. I still don’t know exactly how my power works, but thanks to you, I’m learning how to use it much better.” That turned me into one gigantic bundle of guilt again, making my wife pout, “I know how guilty you feel about it, and I hate to see you beat yourself up, but we don’t want me to make any— mistakes.”

I guess I was still obviously sulking because Debbie lit a tipped cigar, french-inhaled slowly, and titled her head back before exhaling a thick, long steam of smoke from her nose. Suddenly, my guilt didn’t matter one bit.

It was after dinner, the afternoon’s memories a jumbled haze of Debbie’s sexy, smoky posturing, and lots of sex. The most vivid recollection I had was of an extended round of indescribably pleasurable anal sex, complete with multiple, spectacular orgasms on her part. “Ray,” she began, “I think I need to tell you something. I... ummmmmm... I mind controlled you this afternoon.” She was getting really good at that—I had had no clue. “You looked so down, and what I said wasn’t helping and I just wanted to make you feel better so I—rearranged your priorities. I thought you’d have fun, I know I did. And now I feel guilty,” she pouted, on the verge of crying. “It was so easy, and I thought what has the harm and...”

I tried to console her with, “I did have fun,” gently touching her shoulder. Debbie sniffled. “And I forgive you. If anyone understands the temptation, it’s me,” I said, wiping a tear off her cheek. At that moment, it was hard to imagine her as an evil mind controller because her conscience was going to be a huge obstacle. “And sex is a great temptation, especially if there’s an underlying attraction.” I told her about the first blowjob she ever gave me, under crystal hypnosis, the one that opened the door to the possibilities of us. Amazingly, my cock began to fill. Debbie smiled, her eyes going horny. She slid to the floor and positioned herself facing me, between my legs.

“Is that why—” Debbie undid my pants. “—I like sucking your cock so much?” she not-so-innocently asked. “And is it—” She took me into her mouth and bobbed her head a few times before stroking my surprisingly stiff cock. “—the thought of my cocksucking, or the thought of me being hypnotized that’s brought you back to life?” Her tongue danced around the head, and I gasped, getting harder. My nuts protested. “What is it—” Slurp. Lick. Lick. Slow lick, from base to tip, fluttering around the increasingly sensitive rim. “—about mind control that turns you on so much?” I whimpered and gurgled incoherently in response, and Debbie realized that it was hard for me to think, let alone talk right then, so she resumed her exquisite blowjob. Within moments, I was dribbling onto her chest as she coaxed the last ounce of sexual energy out of my system through my cock, after which, I happily told her everything she wanted to know without mind control.

I was now fucked out well beyond the reach of my most potent fantasy or fetish, although I did lick my darling wife to a couple of orgasms later that week. Just about the time I had recovered, work reared its ugly head and I had to go out of town for three weeks, leaving Debbie behind.

Debbie asked me to close my eyes as I walked into the apartment because she had a surprise for me. I closed them and she led me into the foyer, asking me to stay there. I heard her whisper something, so I surmised that we were not alone, but I resisted the temptation to peek. A few moments later, she told me to open them. I saw my wife standing in front of a young, brown-haired woman with a tiny bit of a belly sitting at the kitchen table. The woman was obviously entranced by the crystal that my wife held. I gasped, feeling a rush of blood fill my cock. “Ray, I’d like you to meet one of my former co-workers, Heather.” I gaped. And got harder. “I’ve been practicing my power on her since you’ve been away,” Debbie resumed, without a note of ethical concern in her voice. Even though the sight was incredibly erotic, an alarm went off in my head.

As soon as I caught my breath, I said, “Debbie... I thought you weren’t going to use your power like this. I mean, she’s your friend and you’re just making her a—a—”

“—Mindless toy,” Debbie finished for me. “I figured she’s a good person to practice on. Before you go too ballistic, I’m doing her a favor. Heather spends her weekends getting drunk so a guy will pick her up and fuck her. She thinks she’s too fat for conventional pick-ups. Sound familiar?” She waited for me to object again, but I only nodded. “She’s already had one bad experience from that. I’m trying to help her deal with it, but I could really use your help and experience. I’m protecting her from herself because she’s my friend.”

I opened my mouth to say something, and then closed it. I opened it again and began, “Debbie...” but ran out of intelligent things to say after that while she waited. Finally, I said, “It’s... wrong. Even if she’s headed for danger down the road, you can’t save her from herself.”

“What she’s doing now is seriously going to fuck her up down the road, Ray,” Debbie countered. “Trust me, fucking random guys under the influence of a lot of alcohol doesn’t make you feel any better about yourself. She needs an intervention. What if next weekend she runs into an abusive guy? Or gets killed by some pervert? My conscience can live with her being my—our—mindless practice slave on weekends, but if I left her to her own devices and she was physically harmed—I don’t know what I’d do. How would you feel if she killed somebody while she was driving drunk?” I continued to gape at my wife, the altruistic mind-controller. Far too sweet for the power she had, and I prayed that she wouldn’t change. “But now I really need your help. I got her here, but I don’t know where to go now. What I want is to make her do something that she wouldn’t ordinarily do on an ongoing basis, and that’s something that I don’t know how to do. She can’t spend every weekend here, and I can’t be with her all the time to keep control of her,” Debbie said, obviously frustrated.

I acknowledged that with, “You need me to teach you how to reprogram her.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “kinda like you did with me. If it helps you to agree, you can even turn her into a smoking fetish babe. She already smokes.” Her explicit acquiescence gave me a jolt of excitement at the possibilities. In spite of all the recriminations I’d had with and without the power over Debbie, and all of the logical reasons against it I’d given her, she had happily presented me with the chance to control someone again. “Can you start with keeping her from getting drunk on weekends so she can get fucked?” Debbie asked. “I mean, that is the main thing I want to accomplish.”

“If you want to cure her of using booze to get sex, it’s going to have to involve sex,” I said, adopting my teaching stance, while still not believing my luck. “If her sex drive is big enough to cause consistent risky behavior, she’ll need a substitute. She’ll also need something that makes her feel like she’s attractive enough without getting drunk and orgasmic reinforcement of her new behavior, or else she’ll miss it, and go back to her old habits.”

Debbie narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “Are you saying that you’ll have to fuck her?” She sounded a lot more excited about the prospect than I thought she would—or should. I told her it didn’t really matter how Heather achieved orgasm, but she would have to do it often over a short period. “So are you asking me if I want to try— bisexuality?” Where did that come from? My wife looked at me, expecting an answer.

“Does that interest you?”

“Well—kinda. I mean, to be honest, Ray, I’ve had that—curiosity,” Debbie replied. “I haven’t tried it since I—changed—because mind controlling people into sex doesn’t work for me. Those guys I controlled after I left you—” I couldn’t hide the pain I felt at that. “Sorry,” she shrugged. “Horny woman, new toy. Can you forgive me?” I nodded—I still felt that I was at least partly to blame for her walking out, and she resumed, “All of those mind control-initiated encounters were... disappointing.” Heather’s eyes followed the pendant as my wife sat down, continuing, “I mean, I had fantasies in my head of how it would go, and it would always go exactly like I wanted, because I was making it happen down to the last detail. Thinking about what happens before it happens and then making it happen... that’s a not a sexual encounter, it’s like being in a movie that I wrote, produced, directed, and casted, with me in the starring role. Wayyy too much work.”

“That’s because you’re not working with what the other person gives you,” I suggested. “Just because it’s a strong drive and all you have to do is change the target doesn’t mean that they’re going to be any good at being a sex thrall. It’s all in the way you turn their internal desires and actions to your use.”

“Like how you did with me?” I blushed. “Well, I was pretty easy,” Debbie analytically said, and then grinned, “Highly sexed, not getting enough, and there you were, obviously attracted to me. I probably would have jumped your bones without mind control.” I pointed out that she basically had. “Can you do the same thing to Heather since she’s a lot like I was?”

“Probably,” I said. “Low self-esteem’s a pretty easy and convenient way in. Will you forgive me if I—” I swallowed. “—Get so excited that I forget—?” I really didn’t want to finish the sentence out loud.

“I want you as a partner, not as a toy, Ray.” Debbie’s throaty purr surprised me. “Whatever you need to do. Just don’t forget about me completely, OK?”

“There’s no chance of that happening,” I immediately answered, grabbing her hand. “You’re incredible,” I whispered, in love and in amazement.

Debbie’s excited, happy smile blossomed, and we kissed for a few minutes, reluctantly breaking apart. “We really should do something with her,” she softly said. “I have to get her back home with false memories before it gets too late.” She tossed her head as if to clear it. “We can always make her forget everything she does here, right?” I nodded, and Debbie hesitantly asked, “Do you think I’m weird?” I laughed out loud, and pointed out that I was supposed to be the kinky one with the fetishes. Her blush faded as her eager smile returned. “So how do we start?”

“First thing, unless you only want her to only perform mindless sex acts—” I felt my cock give a little jump. “—you have to give her some rein,” I said. “Kind of like you did with Suzi.” Another jump. “You know that Heather is highly sexed and that she has issues with her attractiveness. Think about how you can use this. You need to use your control to condition her to rely on us for what she wants the most—feeling sexy and getting laid as a result. Always remember that she needs to be brainwashed into wanting to serve us, not mind controlled into doing every little thing we say.” While there was a great attraction for that too, it was a lesson for another day.

At first, my wife said nothing, instead gazing at something only she could see. When she finally looked at me, her eyes were on fire. “You know, you’re sexy as hell when you’re smart’n’evil like that. Heather is going to have to wait until next weekend,” Debbie throatily declared. My wife could control anybody, yet she had apparently decided to have me as her co-conspirator, instead of another controlled toy—for the most part.

The apartment was empty when I came home the following Friday evening, and my wife wasn’t answering her cell phone. Debbie and Heather came bustling in about two hours later, obviously having gone shopping. “Heather, put the food down in the kitchen, and I’ll take the rest of the stuff,” Debbie said. “Ray, open a bottle of wine for us,” my wife called from the bedroom. I got the impression during dinner that Debbie had told her that I was a boring stick-in-the-mud, so they were going to go clubbing after dinner, leaving me home. Occasionally Debbie would say something about how cute Heather or her outfit were, and I would agree, drawing a small blush, and a shy smile from Heather, making the resemblance to my wife in our early days almost frightening. As soon as Heather put down her glass after dinner, Debbie said, “Lights out, Heather. Time to obey me.”

Shock appeared for a couple of seconds on Heather’s face and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but a goofy, drugged smile quickly blossomed, and she sighed, “Yessss... Mistressssss...” before collapsing limply against me, eyes closed.

“Impressive,” I noted with a growing bulge.

“Been practicing that this afternoon while we were in the car running errands,” Debbie began with nonchalance. “I figured that you’d like the master and mistress stuff. I also got stuff for the smoking thing, ‘cause I know that makes you hot, a couple of sex toys, and a cute outfit for her. I figured that if I can get you to respond to her, we can get her to respond the way we want,” Debbie finished, awaiting my approval of her preparations.

Sweetly manipulative, using tools at her disposal. Good qualities in a mind controller. “That’s a good start,” I said. “First we have to make her believe that she’s hot. We know how to give her that reinforcement, we just have to be sure that it seems—justifiable in her head somehow. The less she feels tampered with, the better.”

“Do I get to watch?” I raised a quizzical eyebrow. “OK, so now you think I’m weird.” I nodded and told her just a little, hoping that Debbie would explain. “I fantasize,” she sighed, “about having a penis. Real flesh and blood. Making a woman writhe in pleasure beneath me—like you do to me... and did with Suzi. I’ve always liked to watch X-rated movies where the woman really looks like she’s cumming. That is so... hot. That’s my kink. The hard part about having you and Suzi in the next room was being unable to watch—not that you were with a friend of mine.”

I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I cautiously offered, “So it wouldn’t make you jealous to see Heather and I...?”

“As long as I’m there to watch, no. As long as you make her cum.” Debbie paused, and then ominously warned, “This doesn’t mean that I want you running around fucking every hot chick you see. I can put a stop to that real fast.”

“S’OK. I’m not that kind of guy, and you know that,” I replied lightly. Then I remembered Debbie’s curiosity. “Since you’re going to be here with Heather, we can also start training her to... embrace bisexuality—if she already isn’t. As long as you’re still interested.” Debbie inhaled sharply, flushing. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She nodded excitedly and breathed, “What do I need to do now?” I wasn’t sure if Debbie remembered her original goal, because ways of realizing the sexual possibilities of her mind control ability were just now beginning to become apparent. She shook herself back to reality. “It’s not as easy as telling her to lick my pussy and making her do it, right?”

I nodded. “Why don’t you start by giving control to me, and we’ll go from there.” My cock hardened.

“The crystal will work for that. I’ve—trained—her to go into like a super-suggestive state when she sees it. She won’t be able to resist command,” Debbie said, adding, “I thought you’d like it that way,” with a bit of a pant.

I reminded her about having to be careful with her power, and proceeded to explicitly restrict the influence of the crystal to my wife and myself. “We don’t want anybody else taking advantage of our slave.” Debbie blushed, admitting that she hadn’t thought of that. “Wake her now.”

Three weeks later, the three of us were again in our living room, our shared toy gazing into the crystal she held aloft in front of her eyes. I had been very deliberate with the pace of Heather’s instruction, bolstering her self-image so that it wouldn’t get in the way. Although Debbie was frustrated with the seemingly slow progress, she was extremely attentive nonetheless. We spent a lot of time heating Heather up during our training, and Debbie had rendered the poor girl unable to masturbate by completely blocking her knowledge of the practice. She had also used her power to force Heather to be a celibate homebody during the week until Friday after work. Then Heather and Debbie would have dinner at our place before “girls’ night out,” which would end sometime on Sunday evening. I had been impressed with the range of mind control skills that my wife was showing, and seeing her command someone else was downright exciting. Tonight, however, it was my turn.

“Heather,” I began, “it’s time to look away from the crystal, and focus on your beautiful, sexy, mistress, remaining completely under our command. You have no thoughts other than what we say.”

“Yes... master... I obey...” Heather breathed. I had asked Debbie to find out if she could use her power to make Heather’s mindless obedience excite her on a visceral, subconscious level. She’d made a couple of mistakes while trying; the worst one resulted in causing Heather such extreme pain that the girl couldn’t even scream. The incident had shaken Debbie so much that it took me a while to convince her to try again. It was ruthless of me, but eventually my wife did as I asked, and finally succeeded. The first stages of flush were showing as Heather’s eyes slowly turned towards Debbie, who was in her sexiest black outfit, vamping with her long holder to heat me up, seductively poised on the facing sofa.

“Yes, regard your sexy, beautiful mistress, Heather, you see how sexy she is... it’s because she feels sexy. She knows she is sexy. And she is sending me a message about how sexy she is, Heather.” Debbie french-inhaled on cue, exhaling with a purposeful, hungry look in her eyes. It wasn’t an act, and I wasn’t lying to our slave about how her mistress felt. “You want to be sexy and beautiful like that, don’t you, Heather?”

“Yes... but...”

“Just watch and observe how sexy looks, how sexy is. You can see how sexy she feels,” I hissed as Debbie dragged again, most fetchingly. I was rock hard, and the only thing that kept my mind off of what I wanted to do with Debbie was the fact that my pants kept it painfully trapped.

“Yes, Heather, watch me,” Debbie cooed, “I feel so glamorous, so sexy, so hot. Watch your mistress seduce your master. You can be this sexy, too.”

“No...I’m... not... sexy,” Heather feebly protested.

Debbie lit a fresh cigarette in her holder, exhaling through her nostrils, reclined majestically, alluringly. “Yes, you can be this so very sexy, Heather.” My wife signaled me, and I shucked my pants with a relieved sigh. “Turn and look at your master,” Debbie purred. “See how he responds to your sexy, beautiful mistress.”

Heather turned and came face to face with my pharmaceutically-aided erection, letting a small gasp escape. She began to salivate, but it wasn’t for her. “I’m seducing him, Heather, seducing him with my body, my attitude, and my aura. He believes that I’m sexy, because I know how to be sexy.” Heather gaped, her eyes wide with fascination, breathing shallowly. Her attention had also shifted—back to Debbie. “Watch as I reveal my body, increasing his hunger and his desire... you can spur his hunger and his desire, too. Just like me...”

“Yes... my mistress... but... but...”

“Watch us Heather, watch and see what sexy does,” Debbie hissed, well in her own heat.

“But...” Heather’s half-whispered protest died.

“You can be sexy Heather... and I will teach you... your mistress will teach you... and you... youcan...” My wife’s seductive patter was interrupted by my arrival, and my cock vanished in the smoke from her last, luxuriant, french-inhaled puff.

“Heather, relax and sleep, sleep naturally until we awaken you in the morning,” I groggily said early Saturday morning after Debbie and I had demonstrated “the result of being sexy” to Heather for the third time. Our slave had been increasingly affected with each bout of lovemaking, and during the last, we could hear her whimper in frustration, still mentally manipulated into lacking the knowledge to relieve herself.

Heather was an absolute wreck by Sunday. She looked at me longingly throughout breakfast, stealing glances at my full crotch. She also seemed to be just as fascinated as I was by Debbie’s first More of the day as my wife used her holder, looking amazingly chic and casually sexy in black sweatpants. By late morning, Debbie had energetically stirred my fetish, and so both Heather and I were at boiling point. “So would you like to learn how to be sexy, Heather? Sexy like me?” she teased, reclined in her favorite chair with her holder held aloft.

“Yes, mistress. I want... want to be... sexy,” Heather breathed, focused completely on Debbie. She was no longer under Debbie’s power or in trance, but firmly in the grasp of my wife’s seductive spell.

Debbie smiled. “Excellent... and you will obey your mistress, and do exactly what she says... because you want to be sexy like your mistress. So very, very sexy.”

It was barely audible, but I heard Heather breathe, “Yes... you are... so... sexy.” She looked so vulnerable, so ready to fall into that delicious submission, her mouth open, eyes wide, pupils dilated, barely breathing. Before Debbie could close the deal, though, Heather interrupted, stuttering, “Mis-mis—mistress—I—I...”

“Yes, slave?” Debbie purred, eyes narrowed sexily, exhaling regally, lost in the wake of her own seduction.

“You... you... you’re... so... so... sexy,” Heather gulped hoarsely, fighting herself. The next words were delivered with a reluctant urgency. “I want... want... want to...” She leaned forward off the sofa, sliding to her knees on the carpet, looking at my wife with awe... and lust.

“Sleep now, slave.” At Debbie’s directive, Heather melted onto the floor. “I guess we emphasized me a little too much, huh?” The room went quiet. “Ummmm... Ray,” my wife began, breaking the spell I had been under, “I’d appreciate it if you would—go amuse yourself elsewhere between now and say... about nine o’clock tonight.” I instantly filled with disappointment and frustration—Debbie’s posturing had affected me almost as strongly as it had Heather. I had an erection that didn’t want to go away. “I know,” she sympathetically continued, “but... I need some—privacy—for this. And I want to see how well I can do this on my own. I promise you’ll get your turn next weekend, and I’ll definitely take care of you when you get back.” I pouted, but slowly turned away and got ready to go out. “Thank you,” she said, giving me a peck on the cheek as I left.

She had asked and I had acquiesced. How long would it be before Debbie routinely commanded me to leave her so she could take private pleasures? Or maybe she was already at that point and skilled enough with her power to do it in such a way that I was under the illusion of having free will. I had taught her a lot about the indirect use of her power and shown her how it could open up horizons beyond what she had thought possible with it. And that reduced me to being her husband, her partner—or her toy, at her complete whim. Had I been sowing the seeds of my own subjugation and destruction for the sake of realizing my own, immediate mind control fantasies?

Debbie was teasingly evasive about what had happened between her and Heather after I left, even though she kept her promise about taking care of me after I returned. That was good, because she cut me off for the week on Monday morning—and enforced it with her power. No masturbation, no foreplay, no nothing. “You need to save it all for the weekend,” was all she would say with a sly smile. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

When I got home on Friday, Heather was sitting on the sofa, holding the crystal in front of her face, entranced, which had its usual effect on me. The apartment was otherwise empty, but my wife arrived a few minutes later carrying dinner. Debbie smiled, gave me a hot kiss and whispered, “She’s ready for you,” as she pulled away. “But you’re going to need lots of fuel first.” It was all I could do not to rush through dinner, but Heather wasn’t under our power during the meal, and so it had to appear like every other dinner we’d had.

“Heather, why don’t you show Ray your new outfit?” suggested my wife, and Heather quickly agreed, happily bouncing into the bedroom to change, something that was completely out-of-character for her. When Heather came back out, she held a long white cigarette in a medium-length holder and took a posed drag. I gasped softly, barely registering Debbie’s, “Sexy trance now, slave.” Heather continued to pose alluringly, working everything she had and the prop almost as well as my wife could. “She can’t really hear us until I say the counter trigger. You like?” Debbie rhetorically asked. I nodded eagerly. “She feels much sexier. She’s also gaining confidence as she stands there, kinda lost in her own image of what she looks like, and it’s also helping to turn her on. I created a feedback cycle.” She was getting much better at the manipulative aspect of her power. I asked Debbie what the game plan was, keeping one eye on the transformed Heather. “I want to try to do this uncontrolled. I’ll have the crystal just in case, but I think she’s so frustrated and ready to pop that she’s going to be very aggressive when it comes to seducing you. You don’t mind not being her master for this little bit, do you?”

I cocked my head and said, “You’re amazingly sweet for asking, but I can’t believe that you even thought to.”

“Just making sure that all three of us get what we want,” she chirped with a mischievous twinkle. “Hope you don’t mind that she’s not smoking Mores. I wanted to keep something for myself... something that’s just between us,” Debbie added. She was amazing, and I figured that I might as well enjoy the ride until she got tired of me. I told her that I was ready. “Heather’s sexy not in trance, too.”

“Ray, how do you like my outfit?” Heather immediately asked. I could hear her increased confidence as she briefly modeled her pants suit for me, and sashayed, discreetly, to my side on the sofa. “Do you have a light for me?” Waves of sex were emanating from her; it was obvious she realized that she could seduce me successfully. I provided the requested service, and Heather leaned back flirtatiously, holdered cigarette held high. After some innuendo-laden banter between the three of us, during which she stole increasingly less discreet glances at my obvious erection, I could see Heather prepare to pounce. “So,” she began, “it seems that you’re not such a stick-in-the-mud as your wife had me believe.”

I said, “That’s because she wants to keep me a secret and all to herself.”

“Debbie,” Heather said, looking directly at my crotch and licking her lips, “you are such a lucky girl. I wish I had the same thing you do. Especially if it’s as good as it looks.”

“I could be persuaded to—share,” my wife throatily responded, on the verge of realizing one of her more potent fantasies, and instantly breaking Heather’s contemplation of my cock. “And then you could—find out.”

“And what would that take?” Heather growled in heat.

“We’ll figure out—something,” Debbie quasi-innocently answered. “Ray?”

I nodded, and got attacked. I needed no foreplay, only to get my pants off, and when I pushed into Heather, who was dripping wet, she immediately came with a loud wail, pushing me out. I rammed into her again; she turned red, her eyes rolled up in her head, and she locked her arms and legs around me with a grunt. We were two lust-crazed animals in heat, me fucking with long, powerful strokes, she moving her hips just as determinedly, just as forcefully. She began to whimper, “oh god...” repeatedly, then chanted it, louder, as if a mantra, then cried it as if in pain and then... the orgasms we had denied her for two months arrived. She wailed, “Ohhhh, I’m cummmm-iiiiiinnnn!“ and as soon as that one subsided, Heather’s eyes grew big and round focused on me and she sighed, “Awwwww...” before screaming, ”SHIT!“ She bucked, jerked, and bounced on the floor, arms and legs flailing.

“GUHHH! GUH! GUH!“ she gulped, great, hoarse breaths, and staying inside her was impossible. Frustrated by Heather’s big orgasm, I turned to Debbie, whose face was getting redder as she furiously stimulated herself. I lifted my wife’s legs, pulling her forward on the loveseat, and stuffed myself into her asshole. Debbie eyes rolled around, and we very quickly forgot about Heather. My wife’s eyes crossed and her body began to undulate. “Ohhhh... G— !“ she grunted as she squirted, gloriously red, eyes closed and teeth gritted. I began to sigh repeatedly, more and more loudly, and Debbie’s eyes opened in that expression of abject shock she gets when she’s going to cum massively.

“Ohhhh—FUCK!“ came out of my mouth as I exploded, and I could not see, hear, or sense anything other than the burning of my cock, the almost painful-pleasure that went on... and on... and on... I had fallen on my back, Debbie kissing me madly, and Heather kissing me madly and Heather kissing Debbie madly before we all ran out of energy, all three of us lying on the floor, too drained to move.

“Heather, you want to do anything for your mistress now, correct?” Debbie said, allowing me to hold the magic pendant. Our slave’s entranced response let me know that I still had something left. “Your mistress is the only one who can grant you the permission to be with your master. You want to be with him because your master fucks you better than anyone else—except me.” She gave me an impish smile and stuck out her tongue. “And you know that your master and mistress want their slave.”

“Yes, mistress,” Heather breathed, shifting in the chair, feeling her inner heat building.

“And why do we want you, Heather?” Debbie panted, a little hot herself.

“Because,” our slave replied, eyes aflame even in her trance, “I’m sexy.”