The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Five Years

By Limerick

YEAR FOUR.

Jocelyn had Luke’s fly unzipped as soon as he parked the car. His cock sprang up into the air, and she went right down on it as he turned the motor off. It was all one smooth motion.

She sucked steadily. God, they were so in synch, these days. This is what a marriage should look like—absolute anticipation and fulfillment of Luke’s constant bestial sexual needs. They fit together so well, remade into an elite breeding pair, her holes practically designed to squeeze every drop out of his big, full balls.

Luke stroked her hair. He didn’t say much when she blew him. But she knew exactly what he liked. Not a lot of mouth movement, a ton of tongue along the underside. A warm home, a cheerful receptacle for his jizz. She was his stress reliever, and hey, otherwise they’d be practically bathing in his copious amounts of cum.

Jocelyn could tell he was tense. His scent was sharp, anxious. He was utterly still as she sucked at him, and he was taking longer to cum. He had only recently joined the practice group, the fledgling doctor, and tonight was a major social event. Meet his colleagues, their wives, their other wives, their collected other girls. Introduce them to Jocelyn.

Jocelyn was tense, too, although she didn’t think Luke had noticed. She had her own agenda.

Tonight she had to find out who the utter bitch was that was fucking her husband.

She had THOUGHT that everything was fine, their marriage pristine, that they were that super-rare specimen, the monogamous couple. Luke had seemed happy, undemanding. All he seemed to want out of her was a hot mouth and a cheerful pussy, and she was dedicated to both. Jocelyn kept a clean home. She made an effort to cook. And even with Luke’s seeming contentment to just continually pound her pussy doggy-style she made sure to dress hot, to surprise him with super-sexy outfits, to fuck in all new positions, new rooms. For their anniversary she had gotten under the table in a crowded restaurant and blown him during dessert while the violinist played. It had been SUPER classy.

Another time she had unearthed some old clothes, and he had come home to College Jocelyn. Blue jeans straining to cover her enhanced ass, a cardigan about to pop keeping her tits in. College Jocelyn had kept her legs demurely shut and complained bitterly about “ummm… all the politics and stuff out there” plus the worldwide boy conspiracy to make girls into big happy cumwhores. “So mean!” Luke had gotten into it and they had watched Game of Thrones together until the tension got to great. Then they had both exploded into lust, their sluttified bodies bursting out of the old dumb clothes, to rut furiously in front of a forgotten TV.

That had been nice.

Overall, not a single drop of his jizz, his super-yummy cum, went anywhere but her mouth or her pussy. So she had thought. She was on quintuple birth control to keep it from knocking her up, although they were talking super serious about stopping that. Letting him jizz her pregnant.

Speaking of which, he started to cum. Jocelyn tensed her bulbous lips against his cock, and kept her throat open. Long gone was the little salty squirt. Luke’s cum was thick, creamy, nutritious, delicious. A mild strawberry flavor. She was thoroughly addicted to it and probably drank 4-5 loads a day.

The good news was that her dedication to cum guzzling had helped her break the dependency on shitty bimboizing junk food and drinks. Now she stuck firmly to a small line of totally unenhanced foods.

The bad news was that drinking Luke’s jizz was pretty much as bad as turning a bottle of NN-HANC-D upside down and gargling the pills.

Oh well.

“Good girl,” Luke murmured. It took him not very long to empty out. And as before, Jocelyn detected the scent of Another Woman. Part of becoming a breeding animal was, as a side effect, a very sensitive sense of smell. Someone else’s pussy had been there, had impaled itself on his dick, rubbed its scent into his pubic hair. Marked her territory.

Jocelyn was going to FUCK UP whoever was responsible.

The house was palatial. It belonged to the senior doctor in the group. They all of them were rich men. The birthrate had exploded and their practice was incredibly busy. Luke worked long hours. Sometimes he went home and emptied out into her, sometimes he didn’t. And someone else had seized a chance, inserted herself, literally, into the fuck schedule.

Jocelyn tugged her skirt up, remembered this was a formal event, and tugged it down. She wore a dark red minidress with a fur fringe. Lately she wore a red choker practically around the clock, a personal signature. She was taking a daring fashion risk by wearing underwear, and, anxious about making a good impression, had put on her highest white heels.

The door was answered by an asian girl in a multicolored bandage dress with a deep, plunging neckline. She had her hair in multiple pigtails, and had on so much makeup it was difficult to tell her expression. The girl held a big comical lollipop.

Jocelyn was nearly about to ask where her parents were when Luke spoke up.

“Very nice to see you Mrs. Tanaka,” he said, inclining his head.

“Come on in!” the girl chirped. Mrs. Tanaka. So she was over fifty-five. “Girls over here! Boys are in the pool room!”

Mrs. Tanaka stopped, gave Jocelyn a quizzical look, and stepped close to her. She felt underneath Jocelyn’s dress. This was a minor social faux pas but it was Mrs. Tanaka’s home. “Panties?!” the girl said, and giggled. “Oh my gosh, that’s so funny! Come on in! You must be Jocelyn! That is a hoot!”

Jocelyn took the opportunity to sniff the girl’s hair. No, not this one, not that she thought Luke would be fucking his boss’ wife.

She led Jocelyn through the house. There was a pre-pill portrait of the family up along the wall, with an austere Mrs. Tanaka, her face well-lined, gazed at by a number of children. Now she had been revised into a teen slut with a lollipop as a prop. Oh well.

The girls were hanging out in a colorful room, with shag carpeting, large beanbags, and a massive TV along the wall. There was a tasteful array of sex toys and water bottles along one edge of the room on the counter, and lots of alcohol. A few of the girls were getting high, which always seemed to Jocelyn to be bizarre. You want to be EVEN DUMBER? Everyone was in similar tightly wrapped dresses, and about half had bothered to pull them down over their pussies.

Ordinarily Jocelyn hated these events. They were boring as hell. Typically they either degenerated into a half-hearted orgy, because that’s kind of what the boys expected, or desultory tedious small-talk about clothes and sex and hair and sex. Would it hurt them to TRY to do something different? Jocelyn still painted, and not just with her boobs, using an actual brush. She was involved with a number of charity groups. Finding spare sexy clothes and men for needy girls primarily. Her activism continued albeit in more of a “lets get together and drink and talk daringly about disobeying boys” sense. You could BE MORE than just a BUNCH OF HOLES. It wasn’t that hard!

“Jocelyn, this is Melissa, this is Abby, this is—” Jocelyn stopped paying attention to any names after leaning in for the peck on the cheek with Abby.

It was HER.

It was not a scent that she could put into words, but it was unmistakeable. Jocelyn had sniffed this woman’s pussy on her husband’s crotch. And of course she was a bright blonde with a winning smile, her tits larger than reason with ridiculous nipples. She wore a shiny yellow dress.

BITCH!

As soon as she could Jocelyn maneuvered the homewrecker away from the group, who were starting up the inevitable game of twister.

“So, you work with Luke?” Jocelyn said, all smiles. Haha, all smiles, just two chemically altered girls chatting, how fun.

“Oh, yes!” Abby said, eagerly. She bobbed her head. Her breath was sweet. That and the boobs pointed to a pill-snorter. “Luke is great! I’m so glad he’s with the team!”

Jocelyn surprised herself with her remaining vocabulary of invective. It was nice, sometimes, to see what emerged out the pink soup. She kept up her smile. “You’re… married?”

“Oh! Oh, no. I’m a doctor!” said the big bleached bimbo.

Of course she was a doctor.

“I mean, I… ummmmm… I don’t see a lot of patients I guess lately….” she said. “I mostly assist the dads in the waiting room!”

Jocelyn motioned for Abby to sit down. She felt a little more sure of herself. As a married woman, she outranked Abby.

“Yeah?” she said, and pulled out a vibrator she had picked up from the table. It was an enormous black dildo. She dialed it up to “FULL SPEED”. “And the doctors, too?”

Abby’s eyes locked on the vibrator. Jocelyn casually lowered it between the girl’s legs. Abby made way. It wasn’t like any girls remembered how to close their thighs. Jocelyn examined her rival’s face. A few beads of sweat appeared. That was gratifying.

“Ummm.. a little bit,” Abby said. “If they need… ummm… ohh… medical assistance.”

“Oh, sure, medical assistance,” Jocelyn said, nodding. She shoved the vibrator in. Say this for Abby, she took ten inches without more than a meep. “Like if they’re working late, right? And they have really heavy balls? They have to do something. They can’t exactly masturbate.” Unthinkable.

“R...right,” Abby whispered. Her smile faded. The other girls noticed the action, and giggled. Okay, it was going to be that kind of night. Jocelyn was hard core, despite the weirdo panties.

“Are you fucking my husband, Abby?” Jocelyn said.

“J..just a little!” Abby said. “H..he works so hard! He’s so nice! I could tell his balls were hurting him! I.. he had SO much cum! So much!”

“Yeah, he does,” Jocelyn said. She gave a twist, and Abby came, moaning and squeaking. She collapsed onto a beanbag chair.

Well, shit.

At least she remembered ‘shit’.

* * *

Dinner was excellent. Jocelyn’s opinion of Mrs. Tanaka kept going up. The woman really knew how to throw a dinner party—delicate oriental salads followed by colorful sushi rolls and then big bowls of teriyaki noodles topped with sirloin. “Compliments to the cook,” said Doctor Tanaka, smiling at his wife. She had her legs up on the table, beaver casually visible, and was licking the lollipop with total fervor. Jocelyn made a note to see if she wanted to join the Women’s Auxiliary. This was a girl with hidden reserves. Abby, she noted with satisfaction, was consigned to the single girls table.

On the other hand, conversation was grim. The men discussed the severe, even frightening, world stage. Jocelyn paid no attention whatsoever. If the boys didn’t want to deal with the issues of making half the population over into bimbosluts, they should not have changed half the population into bimbosluts.

She excused herself to go to the bathroom. The girl in the mirror frowned. An entire year of eagerly guzzling a chemical and hormone white batter had taken its toll. She wasn’t even close to her mildly bimboized body of her working days, when she could justifiably call her boobs “moderately sized.” Now she had the cartoonish tits with the oversized, supersensitive nipples, the puffy lips, her fucking HIP BONES had shifted and altered just so she’d have a bigger ass.

But she had held on, despite it all—she even still read Agatha Christie, in the abridged, albeit with a dictionary nearby, and with frequent hand-play breaks.

She had to do something about this Abby situation. Jocelyn heaved a big sigh. Coming up with a plan was gonna cost her. She’d be mindfucked and dull for weeks, exhausted by the effort. But sometimes a girl had to be honest about her future and what was the right decision, as difficult as it was. Body protesting, she THOUGHT.

* * *

“Scattergories?” Dr. Tanaka suggested, breaking up the solemn politics.

The boys brightened visibly. Jocelyn would NEVER roll her eyes at a boy, but it was so typical. Greek demi-gods, with ten inch dicks, supporting huge harems of first and second wives, and at heart they were still med school nerds who liked playing Catan.

“Can I play?” she said, to Luke. She looked him right in the eyes, and winked at him. He smiled back, nervously. The other men watched them.

“Of course,” he said. The boys took note. So, the new doctor was a huge liberal, maybe even a radical. Good to know.

The doctors rolled an S. Jocelyn stared at her game card. She froze.

This had been a bad idea. She had been so eager to get back at Luke for banging the former doctor, now lobby toy. To prove her value. Now she had to think on the CLOCK when she struggled to do so on her own time. S. S. S. She had an English PhD or Master’s or something, for god’s sake. S-sports. Nothing came to mind. Books. Yeah, no. Animals. S. She knew an S animal! She did!

She waited patiently and passed for the first four rounds. “Jocelyn, nothing for you again?” said Dr. Tanaka, smiling, in round 5. He had played Snakes.

“Umm… actually I do have something,” she said, blushing. So many male eyes on her. God, she was getting so warm. Luke waited, expectantly.

“Sperm whale!” she said, triumphant.

There was a pause, and then the assembled doctors burst out laughing. Their assembled scents battered at her loosening self-control, and Jocelyn looked back to Luke. He was smiling that familiar indulgent smile. Thank god.

Time for part two.

* * *

“Honey… can we go upstairs?” she said, post-game. Jocelyn hadn’t bothered with the other rounds. She had scored her point for women’s rights, and made her point to hubby-wubby. Now she could be the horny and wet wife drained by intellectual effort. Which was good because that’s what she was.

“Sure,” Luke said, affable. The night had already been a success. He was a little drunk, pleasantly buzzed. Jocelyn had been judged by the men and declared ‘delightfully novel’ as opposed to ‘tiresomely subversive.’

“Ummmm… can I ask something? A favor?” Jocelyn said. She licked her lips. This was a big step, in a marriage.

“Of course.”

“Can we have another girl too? There’s this one girl I met. I thought it might be… fun.”

Luke’s smile froze. Whoops.

“Sure. Sure,” He said. Was he really hoping it was someone else? Oh, men. Always sure they’d get away with everything. “What’s her name?”

He mouthed it along with Jocelyn. “Abby. I think she works with you?”

* * *

Jocelyn settled in to watch her husband fuck his sidepiece.

It was a strange, unsettl—ah, hell. No it wasn’t. Stupid chemicals telling her how to feel. It was incredibly hot, watching that familiar cock sink deep within a gasping, quivering blonde. To see her husband start to slowly fuck Abby, giving her looks from time to time. That sheepish look.

Abby hadn’t protested when Jocelyn grabbed her. Did she realize the stakes? Probably, given that she was fucking Luke for all that she was worth. He had put her on the bed ass-up, Jocelyn’s usual position, and sank his cock deep in her. Jocelyn could tell her rival was squeezing hard, moaning with abandon, pushing back until his pubic hairs scratched her perfect white ass.

Jocelyn started to finger herself, regardless of the stakes. She sort of HAD to touch herself. This was HOT as HELL. The little adulterer was writhing and wriggling as her husband put the wood in. His wedding ring shone underneath the lights. It was a very nice guest bed, albeit mussed from previous husbands fucking various girls. The air was mingled sweet and dark. Jocelyn watched with her mouth open.

It was hard to think of The Strategy and risks, given that they were rutting mindlessly three feet from her. Anyway, it was up to Luke, now. She waited, breathless, for the small grunt Luke gave when he nutted, for the telltale white sploosh.

Abby’s moans grew fevered and hot, and then she was cumming, losing her rhythm.

Luke came to a halt. Jocelyn looked at him. She had never been so turned on. She would do whatever he asked. Anything.

“Jocey, I’ll finish in you,” he instructed.

Her world practically exploded. Jocelyn hopped next to the spasming, defeated hussy, bent over just how Luke liked, purred just how he liked when he pulled down her panties. Gave him that nice little squeeze when he pushed in.

Although it was a little scary when he came so quickly. Abby must’ve had him on the edge. And he had held off for her.

She looked over smugly at Abby, bereft of jizz, her medical degree in ruins in her pill-addled brain. Jocelyn gave her a big kiss on the lips.

Things were going to work out perfectly.