The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Are you sure this is the best deal I could get?” Mrs Abercrombie enquired barely able to conceal her bitterness.

“I doubt you would be able to better such an arrangement in Court” her lawyer replied.

Mrs Abercrombie glared back at the muscular blonde boy in the black suit. She felt utterly deflated. Even her own lawyer thought she was stupid. “James, what is my best position should I pursue a divorce?”

The lawyer’s voice became even sterner. “First of all, without a prenuptial agreement your husband is bound to get half the company and half the house. He may even obtain a handsome stipend with which to support himself until he is old enough to retire. This is especially so, with one of the best legal firms in the city behind him. Take my advice and seriously consider a commercial alternative. Remain in the marriage, however, you should negotiate a greater stake in the family company so that if another such indiscretion were to occur you would be better placed in any divorce proceedings. You have been granted a significant bargaining chip as a result of the diligent and extensive surveillance we have obtained of your husband and his secretary. I suggest you use it to its fullest advantage.”

Mrs Abercrombie sat there, feeling numb. She stared past her lawyer for a moment, out the second-storey window and contemplated remaining in a relationship with a husband who would, no doubt, continue to cheat on her. She could not stomach such a proposition, there had to be a better alternative.

She hung her head. How could this be happening? Barely five years ago she had fallen head over heals for Walter. The thought that he might cheat on her had not even come close to crossing her mind. She knew she should have insisted on a prenuptial agreement but he was everything she had dreamed of. Tall, dark, handsome, a winning smile, deep blue eyes and sufficient business acumen to restore the glory of the company she had inherited from her father. Unfortunately, the dream had become a nightmare and the nightmare had used his business acumen to confound her into allowing him to take control of her father’s company.

At last she said, “I need some time to think about this.”

James McNaught replied, “Take all the time you need I cannot conceive of your position changing in the absence of a commercial arrangement such as the one we have discussed.”

For a long moment Mrs Abercrombie glared at her lawyer. Her brunette hair was tied up in a businesslike bun on the back of her head, hiding its true length. Her high cheeks, flushed with anger, were surprisingly attractive. She was relatively young, only just thirty and she had always enjoyed the privilege of money. All the expensive skin and beauty therapy and the personal training had certainly left her looking even younger.

Mrs Abercrombie turned and let herself out.

“I’ll get even with Walter even if I have to make a pact with the devil.” she hissed to herself as she closed the door to the lawyer’s office.

An hour and a half later Walter Abercrombie was seated at a quiet table at the Mountasea Country Club, ruminating over the telephone conversation he had just concluded with his wife. In his hand he held a stiff double scotch. It wasn’t his fault, he told himself for the thousandth time. If the stupid bitch had shown the slightest interest in their sex life he might not have needed a mistress.

Things hadn’t been going well at home for quite some time. His wife had lost interest in the physical side of their relationship quite quickly. Not long after their wedding she had ceased to make any effort to initiate physical contact. Even worse, when he had made the effort she had frequently made excuses and when he managed to worm his way past her protests she would simply lie their like a sack of potatoes. If it were not for a bit of heavy breathing and her keeping rhythm with her hips a man would swear she wasn’t even in the same room during such encounters.

“If only she had an appetite for sex or even better something more adventurous than the missionary position.” he thought to himself.

Still he regretted the day Janet had waltzed into his office, only to find him and Bethany Wallace a pert, cheerful and gorgeous young secretary in a slightly dishevelled state. Both, of course, pleaded innocence. Janet had not exactly caught them red handed, but, every woman knows the signs. He regretted the day only because of the predicament it had brought him to. He did not for one moment regret his wild sexual romps with Bethany. Unlike his wife Bethany was a woman who knew how to satisfy a man.

He sipped his scotch, staring at the floor.

“Quite a troubled face for someone so handsome?” said a woman who had momentarily stopped beside Walter’s table.

Walter Abercrombie looked up. “Excuse me?”

The woman put down the drink she was carrying. She was thin and bespectacled. “It looks to me like you’ve gotten yourself into quite a state over your wife.”

“Excuse me,” Walter Abercrombie said again, “Do I know you? How do you know what—”

The woman interrupted him smoothly. “Just your look tells me all I need to know.”

“What—,” blustered Walter Abercrombie, “Who are you? How do you know—”

“Have you considered the, ah, social implications of a divorce?” the woman asked, ignoring Walter’s questions. “Your position on the committee of this place would be in jeopardy if it weren’t for the respectability of your wife’s ancestry and of course there’s the company to consider….”

“What business do you have seeking to involve yourself in my life?” Walter stormed, fighting to keep his voice down.

The thin woman regarded Mr Abercrombie patiently through her dark-framed glasses. “If you want to become a social leper or worse, if you don’t want to put a stop to your wife’s efforts to take part control of the company, don’t let me interfere.”

Walter Abercrombie felt his face flush with anger. He started to say something, but the woman raised a hand, cutting him off. “Please, Mr. Abercrombie, be honest with yourself. Your wife is a self-centred, spoilt daughter of a rich man. You married her for position and prestige. I suspect you were so absorbed by the opportunities she presented that you didn’t see her true nature. I can’t say I blame you.” She spoke in soft measured tones.

Walter Abercrombie leaned toward the woman, his face a flushed with embarrassment. “Now look here, whoever you are, I—”

“Mr. Abercrombie,” the woman interrupted, “when was the last time you and your wife had passionate sex?”

Walter said nothing for a long moment. He looked away. Finally, in a low voice, he asked: “How do you know all this?”

“I do my homework,” the woman replied. “Thorough background research is the key to ensuring my clients are satisfied.”

“What? Clients?”

The woman reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew a plain white business card. She handed it to Walter. “I am counsellor who specializes in situations like yours,” she explained. “I believe I can help you.”

Walter said: “There’s no way….”

“Ah yes” the woman interrupted folding her hands like a steeple. “You’re not sure your wife would agree to participate in achieving a permanent solution that didn’t involve her gaining some control of the company.”

Walter Abercrombie studied the woman sitting next to him. She was tall, slender and proper. Dressed in a conservative pinstriped blue pant suit and silk blouse, she could have been a banker or a lawyer. She spoke with a crisp, slightly English accent.

“Permanent solution? What are you talking about?” Walter asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

“I mean, quite simply, that we can make this whole ugly situation go away,” the woman said evenly. “Disappear. Vanish. Cease to be an issue. And don’t worry your wife will co-operate, I’ll bet she’s just as intrigued by the prospect as you are.”

“You can end my wife’s interest in a divorce?” Walter Abercrombie enquired sarcastically.

“I can do better than that. I can keep you in total control of your precious company. I can do away with all of your wife’s petty complaints about your dalliances and let you get on with enjoying making lots of money. In short, Mr. Abercrombie, I can fix things.”

“But, but—I still don’t understand. How do you propose to do this?”

The woman placed her left hand on Walter’s right for a moment. “I’d rather not go into the methods themselves. In any case it’s highly technical. When you have decided to go ahead, just call the number on that card. My people will take care of fee transfers and scheduling.”

Walter Abercrombie was staring at the woman, nonplussed. Was he really having this conversation? “How—how much?” he found himself saying.

The woman beside him named a figure that made Walter’s eyes widen. “It’s entirely reasonable,” she explained, “when you consider what you receive in return. Besides, it’s less than you would pay in legal fees and social penalties, assuming your wife were to proceed with a divorce.”

Walter stopped to consider. The woman had a point.

His companion got to her feet, lifting her drink from the table and taking a sip. “Do give me a call. You won’t regret it. Good day, Mr. Abercrombie.” She walked away briskly.

Walter Abercrombie stayed at his table. He looked at the business card in his hand.

Several hours later, Walter Abercrombie was in his office, still staring at the business card. He picked up the telephone and dialled the number.

“Hello! Thank you for calling,” said a female voice.

“Uh. Hello. Uh, yes. My name is Abercrombie, I—”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Abercrombie!” The voice sounded delighted. “Have you decided to go ahead with the therapy?”

“Well, I, I guess, I mean, I think—Listen, I’d like to know a little more about it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the details. Trust Professor Dreamstare, you’ll be impressed by her work. She offers a full money- back guarantee. Although, none of her clients has ever filed for a refund.”

There was silence for a long moment. Eventually Walter Abercrombie said: “How do I pay the fee?”

“Make an electronic transfer to this account.” The girl on the phone named an account number of a bank in the Cayman Islands. “You’ve made the right decision, Mr. Abercrombie. We’ll get right to work; I’ll schedule an appointment for you and your wife. She has an opening on Wednesday at 5.30 pm. Oh, one more thing. Did you write that account number down on a piece of paper?”

“Yes.”

“When you’re through, throw it away, won’t you? Bye now.”

Walter Abercrombie hung up the telephone. He determined that his wife wouldn’t file for her threatened divorce. There was no way he would let the stupid bitch ruin all the work he had put in to recover and improve the company’s position. It would be snowing in hell the day he allowed that to happen.

It wasn’t long before Walter Abercrombie arrived home; he virtually ignored his wife’s mood. There was nothing unexpected there. He was surprised, however, when she did not vigorously resist his suggestion of marriage counselling.

5.30 pm on Wednesday evening duly arrived.

Professor Dreamstare’s office was right downtown, in the Wickham Building. As he stepped off the elevator at the eighth floor, Walter decided that the woman was probably a fraud.

When he arrived at the reception, Janet was already inside waiting.

The outer office was expensively furnished, if a little too feminine for Walter’s taste. The smiling young receptionist told Walter that Professor Dreamstare was with clients right now—she didn’t say “patient”—and so he sat next to Janet in the waiting room.

The chairs in the waiting room were surprisingly comfortable, although the decor relied rather too heavily on pastels. There wasn’t much to read either, just fashion revues and women’s magazines.

The receptionist was a young and strikingly attractive blonde with a figure that could stop traffic. The tight, stretch-fit minidress she was wearing would have been provocative in a nightclub, much less in an uptown office. It was deeply scooped in front, presenting her round, heavy boobs like two ostrich eggs falling out of the nest. The receptionist was a stark contrast to Janet, in her brown suit and trousers, black flats. Walter wondered idly if he might be able to charm the panties off the young woman without his wife noticing. That would represent some kind of challenge, but then again, Walter was always up for a challenge.

At length the intercom chirped. The receptionist pushed a button with one pearly fingernail. “Professor Dreamstare will see you now,” she said beaming. “Go right in.” Janet Abercrombie just scowled as she walked by, marvelling at how anyone could wear a dress like that to work.

The inner office, unlike the cloyingly feminine waiting room, was furnished tastefully in light oak. Heavy rows of books lined one wall, behind the polished desk. Walter was surprised to discover much of the office was occupied by computers. There were no less than five monitors, three of them surrounding two central screens the size of big-screen televisions. Disk drives and processors hummed quietly. The screens were oriented to face two black reclining chairs, each of which was sort of a cross between a psychiatrist’s couch and a dentist’s chair.

A tall, trim woman wearing a conservative black suit and glasses was seated behind the desk, jotting down notes. She leapt to her feet to greet the couple. “Ah, you would be Janet. A pleasure to meet you. I’m Professor Dreamstare.” She extended a hand I Janet’s direction while at the same time looking at Walter. “I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your husband, Walter.”

“Pleased to meet you” Janet said coolly, taking the professor’s hand.

“I appreciate you taking the time to see me.” Professor Dreamstare retorted equally coolly.

The professor motioned the couple to the two centrally located chairs.

“I propose to assist you by use of Relaxation therapy. I find that in order to help people you first have to get past their defense mechanisms, the mental blocks that resist positive change. I have developed a number of very effective relaxation techniques. My clients will attest to that.” The professor informed them as she positioned their chairs in front of the computer screens.

Walter hesitated. “You want me to sit and relax in front of a computer. This must be some kind of joke! I am not going...”

“Why not? It’s perfectly harmless, I assure you. This environment is the cornerstone of my practice. All my patients spend time there, learning to relax and gain better control of their emotional lives. The technology is proprietary, I’m afraid, so I can’t tell you much about the details.”

“What a load of bullshit!” exclaimed Walter.

Professor Dreamstare sounded only mildly annoyed. “Come, come, Mr Businessman, how can you say whether it works or not if you aren’t willing to try it? Just lie down for a moment. It’ll give you a bit of perspective.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Oh, all right,” he said.

The couches were very comfortable. The couple felt themselves sinking deep into the cushions. There were stereo speakers built into the headrests. A moment later soft music began to play. The room lights went down. A multicoloured pattern of lines and shapes began to play across the screens.

Walter’s scepticism remained. Janet wondered what she had gotten herself into.

The music was standard “environmental music” available in any new-age health store. The patterns on the screen looked suspiciously like commercial screen-savers.

After a while Walter began to wonder if the movements of the screen- savers were completely random. The patterns on the small screens seemed to be connected to that on the big screen, ramifying and varying it in a dozen different ways. He couldn’t be sure though.

Janet found herself studying the shifting colours, looking for an overall pattern in the sequence. Her eyes darted from one screen to the next: up, down, left, right, and then back to the big screen in the middle. Over and over and over. It wasn’t relaxing at all. In fact, it took a lot of concentration.

After a while she began to suspect that the music was somehow tied in with the screen-savers too. It seemed to rise and fall in time with the patterns on the monitors; as if it were leading they or they were leading it, or something. Every time she thought she had it figured out the music and the patterns would diverge and she would have to start all over.

Professor Dreamstare asked the couple several times if they were relaxing. Of course Walter wasn’t relaxed, this was much too distracting. He answered her only briefly, not wanting to lose his concentration. When she said something he just grunted in agreement so she would leave him alone. He could almost see it, the whole big pattern, the lights, the music, everything. Almost....

Abruptly the screens went blank. The music stopped. The Couple lay on their couches, blinking at the suddenly bright overhead lights. “Well, that’s it,” Professor Dreamstare said briskly.

As they returned home there was a deep and wintry silence, neither Walter nor Janet felt much like talking. Walter was ropable about having wasted his time and money. Janet still couldn’t bring herself to forget Walter’s indiscretions.

Thursday morning and Walter Abercrombie was having a dream. It was a pleasant, erotic dream. It had something to do with his beautiful wife seducing him. His eyes fluttered open. Early morning sunlight poured through the bedroom windows. His bed covers had been pulled back. His wife was beside him, on her knees, his cock was hard but his loins were a sticky mess.

“What?” said Walter.

Janet pulled away in shock. “What indeed!!!” She exclaimed “When I awoke I had the strangest urge to give you a blow job, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never wanted to do that before! B..B..But the urge was so strong I couldn’t resist!” Janet half sobbed. “B..B..Before I could even get started your cum was everywhere, it was just awful, dis…disgusting!!” Janet groaned.

Walter was confused. His wife had never shown the slightest interest in any position other than the missionary position and he had never ejaculated prematurely before.

There was something else odd too. As he watched his wife’s disappear in the direction of the bathroom, Walter realized Janet was already wearing her make-up. Earrings too; big gold ones that flashed and flew about as she bobbed. She was dressed in a red, strapless teddy he had bought for her years ago but Janet had never worn. The cups thrust her half-covered chest up and out, highlighting her spectacular tits. Her legs were dressed in shiny stockings with ribbons and bows on the garters. Her gaudiest pair of high-heeled red pumps were on her feet.

How early had she gotten up to prepare for this? And whatever for? Walter struggled to understand what was going on but the sight of Janet dressed as she was triggered another convulsion in his cock and he came again.

He had to get to the shower and clean away the thick layer of cum which was now covering his groin. He made for his on suite.

Walter lingered in the shower catching his senses. What on earth had gotten into Janet and more importantly, what had happened to him?

When Walter finally walked into the kitchen, straightening his necktie, he received another shock. Food was sizzling on the stove, filling the room with delicious smells. Janet was sashaying about the kitchen, humming to herself.

Janet cooking? For a moment Walter didn’t know what to think. If someone had asked him, what is the one thing your wife is less likely to do than wake you up with a blowjob, Walter would have answered: cook breakfast for me. “Uh, Janet?” he said uncertainly.

His wife turned to him, beaming. “Hi honey! Come and sit down, breakfast is almost ready.” She gestured to the kitchen table, where an elaborate setting was waiting for him.

“But, but, wait a minute. Last night, we were giving each other the silent treatment.”

She gave him an amused look. “Don’t be silly. Let’s just forget about that and the mornings little mishap. Come on, we’ll try again when you get home this evening. Go on, sit down. Don’t let the toast get cold.”

Walter sat. Breakfast was excellent. He sipped his coffee, watching his wife totter about the kitchen with a wary eye. The outfit she was wearing clearly reminded him of why he had married her. Below the rich cascades of cinnamon brown hair her figure was perfect: smooth, curved and sensuous, leading downward to the flawlessly tapering legs that seemed to go on forever. Despite what Janet had already done to him that morning, Walter felt his cock stir. He came again. “Oh shit!” He quickly rose from the table and headed back to the shower.

Walter left the house without saying goodbye. There was nothing unusual in that but nonetheless it disappointed Janet.

Walter arrived in the office confused and with his heart in his mouth. At first he managed to avoid his secretary, however, before long Bethany entered his office, ostensibly to ask if he wanted a cup of coffee. However, that was not really what she had in mind.

Bethany approached Walter’s desk, but instead of taking the seat in front of it, she slid into his lap. “Would you like a cup of coffee or is there something else I can do for you?” She slid both arms around his neck. This action brought Walter distractingly close to her mesmerizing mounds. He felt himself stiffening, he remembered his experiences on the home front that morning. He began to panic, hyperventilating like a school boy in his first sexual encounter. He pushed Bethany away.

Bethany was a little surprised but undeterred. “So you want to play bad cop today?” the young secretary giggled. “Well, well, looks like your private eye is ready to interrogate me now!” she purred staring directly at Walter’s hardness and the wet patch forming on his trousers.

He drew a deep breath.

The young secretary moved in closer and started to stroke his hair. “Oh, darling!” She cooed.

Panic again gripped Walter so much so that he thought he might have a heart attack. He was sure his magnum was ready to explode into action again.

Once more he pushed Bethany aside but this time he made for the restroom.

Walter spent a good half an hour in the restroom cleaning up the mess he had made of himself and regaining his composure.

He spent the rest of the day locked in his office so as to avoid any further contact with his secretary. It was only when he was sure she had left for the evening he made his exit.

As he drove the few miles home from his office, Walter turned to wondering about Janet. Perhaps her behaviour that morning had been a ploy, softening him up for a Megadose of bitchiness. Janet put that idea to rest when she greeted him at the door in a black velvet bustier that thrust out the flawless half-moons of her chest without covering the nipples, matching black velvet panties, shimmering dark pantyhose and Ruby red lipstick.

Walter couldn’t remember ever seeing such an outfit in his wife’s wardrobe. Right at that moment, as he watched Janet shuffle toward him with a look of almost predatory lust, Walter wasn’t sure he could remember his middle name. She melted into his arms, kissing him like he had just returned from six months in the jungle. “Come on in and have a drink, darling,” she urged. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Walter’s cock convulsed again. He made an excuse and went straight for the downstairs bathroom.

Dinner was sumptuous and delicious. Janet did not change to eat. She sat across from him, her distended, red-topped nipples on full display, and gazed at her husband adoringly. Walter barely noticed the food. He was doing his best to avoid creaming his underwear yet again.

After dinner Janet insisted that Walter relax with a second drink while she modelled all the pretty things she had bought that afternoon. She put soft music on the stereo and slowly changed out of one exotic outfit and into another in front of him. She was less than half way through the collection when Walter came yet again.

Janet was by this stage beside herself with desire and Walters’ incapacity was driving her too distraction. She was as horny as hell and he was well and truly useless.

Janet made for the bathroom and latched the door. She lifted the miniskirt she had been modelling for Walter and hooked two thumbs under her panties, pulling them down. Her shimmering, sexy hose left essential areas free. She freed one foot from her fallen panties, and opened the third drawer of the vanity unit. She fished around among the cosmetics and beauty products until she found her secret friend. She pulled it out. It was hard, black, and missile-shaped. The batteries were fresh. Without hesitation she twisted the knob at the base to its highest setting. The gizmo whirred excitingly as she lowered it to her awaiting pussy. She was thoroughly lubricated. She touched the rounded end to her pink folds and began to slide it in.

Ah, sweet relief! The busy, buzzing vibrator felt exquisite as she worked it deep inside her. “Oh my god I am so fucking horny today,” she moaned to herself. She threw her head back, closing her eyes. She pretended that gadget in her hand was a real cock attached to some strong, masterful man who could fuck a horny woman like her into orgasmic submission. Her loud moans echoed around her well-appointed bathroom as she worked her electric wand in and out.

“Oh! Oh fuck YESSS!” The orgasm was a jolt of pure, wicked delight. It left her limp and panting.

Walter did manage to make it to the office the next morning, but it was a near thing. Janet decided that there was no need to wear underwear beneath her black lace bodystocking “just around the house”, but nevertheless opted for the high-heeled, mirror-black pumps.

It wasn’t long before Bethany was kneeling beside her boss’ chair. She was dressed in a cheerful little mini. Her hair was pulled back. He was resting his hands on her shoulders.

Suddenly Bethany’s head jerked back, “Shit Walter!” she spat.

“Oh Fuck, what’s happening to me?” moaned Walter quickly tucking his cock back into his trousers as his secretary tried to wipe the cum from her face and hair.

Thereafter things in the office became progressively more difficult for Walter. He discovered that in the absence of his ability to keep it full his secretary was more than capable of using her mouth for talking. She had told every woman in earshot about his rather sudden short cummings. Bethany had to go.

It wasn’t long before Janet started to look beyond her vibrator for satisfaction.

The Pool man was the first to experience her new found sexual assertiveness. After an hour of peering at him from her bedroom window Janet could not wait to get her thighs around his lean young hips.

“Finally!” she said as he explained that the pool filter was now repaired.

Janet’s blouse fluttered down on top of tiled entry. Underneath she wore some kind of tight, pink bustier.

“What are you doing?” exclaimed a shocked Toby Wilson.

“I’m getting undressed, so we can fuck,” the shapely brunette answered eagerly. She was already working on her miniskirt. She stopped abruptly. “You do want to fuck me, don’t you?”

Toby had no ready answer to that. “I—I—what? What are you—, I mean, Mrs Abercrombie, you can’t m-mean—holy Toledo!” The miniskirt fell to the floor around her feet. Underneath she wore an elaborate pink garter belt clipped to flesh-tone nylons that sleeked up her legs from the pink high heels. She wore no panties.

“You do find me attractive, don’t you, honey?” Janet asked, stepping over the skirt toward him. “I mean, you wouldn’t mind fucking me, would you?” She reached up and unfastened the clip holding her hair back.

Toby was bug-eyed. Was this the ice queen that had barely spoken a word to him when last he was called to repair the pool filter? She advanced toward him, her eyes misty with desire. Her lips were parted slightly. She wore bright pink lipstick that matched her underwear. Her lower lips were naturally pink.

“Come on, baby, we only have a few minutes before my husband gets home,” the brunette entreated, snuggling up close. “Barely time for a good quickie.” She pressed her soft lips against his, slipping her tongue in his mouth while she began to work his belt buckle.

When she let him up for air half a minute later, Toby was gasping for breath. “Mrs. Abercrombie, I—”

“Call me Jan,” she husked, between kisses. “Look, I’ve got something to show you.” Holding him by the hand, she led him to the kitchen table. She swept one hand across it impatiently. The table cloth flopped to the floor. She hopped up on top of the table. Leaning back on her elbows, she carelessly kicked her pink high-heels across the room. Then she laid back legs spread wide, her calves dangling over the table, her pussy open and inviting. “You like?” she asked softly.

Toby licked his lips. “But, but, what about your husband?” Toby asked blankly, as his pants slid down his legs. He was as hard as a diving board.

Janet sat up and flung her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. “Don’t you worry about Walter; I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d like to watch.” She spoke vehemently, while her hands were still busy, pulling down his underwear and stroking his rigid member urgently.

It was more than Toby could stand. He surged forward, groaning, letting her guide him into her. Janet gasped in delight as his cock slid home. “Fuck me, honey,” she cried, wrapping her long legs around him. “Fuck me!”

They were both too hot to take it slow. The couple began to piston rapidly, Toby standing in front of the table with his pants around his ankles, the brunette babe in bustier and garter belt lying on top of it. She slid back and forth on the polished table as Toby thrust into her again and again, grunting with exertion and primal lust. She was tight, wet, wanting, and utterly divine. Toby held her by her knees, delighting in the feel of sleek nylons along her luscious legs.

“Hurry, sugar, hurry,” Janet panted, urging him on. “I’m so close! You are so gooooood!” A light sheen of sweat glistened on her face. One breast popped out of her strapless bustier from the force of her oscillations across the tabletop. The nipple pointed at the ceiling like a glazed raspberry.

Toby lifted both her legs to give him a deeper thrust. “Jan, Jan, I have to, (gasp) to go. Your husband will be home any minute. What are we (huff, huff) going to do?”

“Don’t stop,” Janet gasped, throwing back her long, loose brunette hair. “Don’t ever stop. Almost there, almost there...aw shit, it’s so good. Don’t worry ‘bout the huh! huh! Walter, sugar, I’ll take care of th….ThAAAAAAT!” Her shout was so loud that the entire suburb was undoubtedly aware of her excitement. Toby felt her love tunnel spasm around his dick, and the sweet sensation drove him over the edge to his own release. With a series of deep grunts he came powerfully inside her.

By the time Toby and his sex-happy client had come to their senses a series of groans were emanating from the downstairs bathroom.

Toby made a rapid exit almost forgetting his underwear in the process.

As Janet walked down the passageway to the bathroom she could see Walter sitting on the pedestal, trousers around his ankles, eyes closed, cock in hand jerking furiously away.

The image of Toby fucking his wife senseless was burned into Walter’s consciousness and it was more than Walter could stand. He came violently spraying cum all over the tiled floor.

“Janet, what were you—” blurted Walter.

She smiled at him. “This way we can both relax.”

Walter looked at Janet nervously. “Shit! Janet, you – you were fucking another man—”

“And you were jerking off while I did.” Janet responded, her smile widening all the while.

The next evening it was the turn of Doug Sage the plumber.

This time Janet was dressed like a high-school cheerleader. She wore knee socks, and there were little pom-poms on her gym shoes. Doug hardly got started on the sink.

Again, Janet’s timing was perfect. Walter arrived just in time to witness her display. Just as Janet anticipated Walter couldn’t resist jerking off at the sight of her standing there legs spread, back slightly arched, nipples straining against the confines of her bra and Doug pounding away at her from behind his pelvis slapping against her taut rounded ass.

The following day Janet had Malcolm the pizza boy in for lunch.

She was wearing a tight-fitting, leopard-pattern minidress so short it made her now regular minis look prudish. The dress was low-cut across the bodice to reveal the top third her proud young breasts, so perfect and round they almost looked polished. Sleek, dark nylons graced her legs, capped off with shiny black five inch heels.

She directed the young boy’s hand beyond the hem of her skirt. Penetration was made easy by the fact that she had shaved that morning and had decided against wearing any panties.

“Yes!” Janet enthused. “Oh yes, yes, yes!” Her eyes were half closed. “Oh, tomorrow I’ll have the Peperoni, mmmmm, and the next day the, oohhhh my, Supreme,” Janet responded, thrusting her hips below the table,” or perhaps I’ll have the Hawaiian, oh yes right there, or the Meatloverrrrrrs, oh, yes, oh, insteeeead. God, I think I’m about to come.” She clenched her teeth and shuddered through another orgasm.

“If only Walter had been here to see this,” Janet sighed, when she could breathe again.

“How could I have ever contemplated a divorce when getting even is so much more exciting?” she mused as the pizza boy went on his way.

Walter was fuming and on the phone to professor Dreamstare. “What the fuck have you done to me? You’ll reverse the treatment and return my money and I’ll see you in…”

“Hell?” interrupted the professor. “That is entirely on the cards but I won’t be returning your money or reversing your conditioning!!” she said bluntly.

“Now you listen to me you sick bitch” Walter exploded.

“Oh come now Walter!” responded the professor mockingly.

In the blink of an eye Walter’s cock responded to the command and erupted.

Now you listen to me Mr Abercrombie”, the professor continued, “you’re conditioned to accept any suggestion I choose to make and unless you want to start sucking cocks or turning tricks for Frank Austin in sales, I suggest you calm down and simply enjoy making lots of money out of your precious company.”

Immediately Walter felt a calmness descend upon him. He abruptly terminated the phone call. Walter had been seized by a compulsion to check the company’s stock price. It had risen a quarter of a point the previous night. A repeat of that performance would increase his asset position by a cool $500,000. Walter smirked as he dialled his broker.

A few days later Janet again found herself in the company of Professor Dreamstare only this time Janet was lying across the professor’s desk with her legs bent and her head elevated so her thick brown hair tumbled down. “I had a sudden urge to come back and say thanks,” she said enthusiastically, “for everything. For everything you’ve done to Walter. I’ve been so thrilled.” She swung her legs around and got to her feet gracefully, despite the challenging high heels on her Black leather boots. “I’m so happy professor, Now when he’s late home from the office I know he’s been working on something other than the latest piece of fluff to adorn the typing pool.” Janet’s tight dress stopped a few inches past the curve of her bottom. Just looking at her legs was a sexual experience.

“Please, Professor, there’s one more thing. I, I know it wasn’t part of our agreement, and I won’t complain if you say no, but, but, could I, maybe . . .” She hesitated, then blurted: “Could you kiss me?”

This caught Professor Dreamstare by surprise. “You want me to kiss you?”

Janet took a step toward her, hands clasped. “Oh yes, please, please, please.” Janet looked up at the professor beseechingly. The professor felt her crotch moisten.

“Please, Professor,” Janet gushed. “Kiss me. I’ll do anything if you’ll kiss me.” Janet stepped up close and slid her arms around the professor’s neck. Janet wore leopard- pattern gloves that came up past the elbow. “Please?”

Dreamstare found she was speechless. Standing this close to Janet, with her dewy eyes gazing into hers, the professor could smell a delicate perfume floating up from the deep shadows of Janet’s cleavage. Demonieva Dreamstare opened her mouth to say something. Janet kissed her, suddenly, tenderly, as if taken by an impulse she couldn’t resist.

“Again, Please” Janet whispered. Janet kissed Dreamstare again “Look, let me show you what I can do for you.” She was already sliding down, using the professor’s body for support as she sank gracefully to her boot-covered knees on the carpet. Dreamstare just stared in amazement as Janet’s head slipped under the hem of her skirt. Janet quickly reached up with both hands and removed the professor’s red lace thong. Demonieva was wet already.

“Mmmmm, yummy,” Janet whispered. She began to lick, suck and nibble away at Dreamstare’s clit. “What part of the conditioning had induced that?” the professor made a mental note to investigate.

However, soon Demonieva was beyond caring. She gasped in delight as Janet’s mouth and tongue worked their magic.

Two weeks later, Janet was visiting the professor again for more “research” into the changes in her sexual appetite.

Janet was dressed in a bright silver micro skirt coupled with a tight black sweater and push up bra. She was standing behind the professor’s high-backed chair, massaging Dreamstare’s shoulders while the Demonieva worked.

“Janet, hand me the card file, will you.” Dreamstare said absently. The professor could have reached it herself.

“Sure,” Janet replied. She walked around to retrieve the card file off the front of the desk. The little metallic skirt shimmered with the sway of her hips. The professor admired the slender perfection of Janet’s legs, displayed so fetchingly by sheer nylons and high heels.

Now, where was that card. As she flipped through the file Janet sat on the desk and casually crossed her knees. The micro-miniskirt hiked up around her thighs. The professor was distracted. Janet had done the same thing yesterday, and ended up on her back atop the desk fingering herself to a shuddering climax.

Demonieva looked at Janet, leggy and luscious, posing like a pin-up girl on her desk. She cocked a finger at her. Smiling, Janet slipped off the desk and down between the professor’s knees. While Janet busied herself between Demonieva’s silk clad thighs Dreamstare set about burning the Abercrombie’s card.