The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Man of the House

(mc, mf, ff, inc)

Two Weeks Later: Friday

Two weeks have gone by since my last report and it has been business as usual at 819 North Primrose Lane, if by “business as usual” you mean middle-age mothers acting like young, stereotyped tarts and servicing their sons. The corporation I work for has been helping me out with some of the little things, like intercepting the residents’ mail, paying their bills, their rent, tying up loose ends at their respective places of employment. For the families, their lives now revolved around their new, improbable, roles. Speaking from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate the corporation’s dedication to my research; the 2-year grant was wonderful, but the extra assistance makes all the difference. But I digress; let me quickly catch you up so you can properly enjoy the weekend viewing of “the Love Shack” as I affectionately call it.

The former gynecologist, former paragon of the community–a woman active in her church and various volunteer groups, who now goes by the moniker of Tweetie–rarely wears more than a bikini now-a-days. The mother who was disgusted by rap culture and demanded that her family represent the black community by speaking with proper diction now has dozens of self-made youtube videos of herself rubbing her ass into men’s crotches, wagging her tongue, flashing her grill, and speaking ghetto. The Baptiste household had become a musky den of drugs and sex. The old king Robert would chase after the attention of his love–his wife. Marilyn would let him catch her, toy with him, pleasure him without affection, only to cast him away at the command of her pimp—her son. Trevor was the new lord of this apartment, and his mother was truly his ebony bitch.

Abstinence surely was not on the menu in Apartment B either. Johnny Rutherford had two girls who always wanted to party and he did not disappoint. In his mind, Apt. B was an off-campus apartment shared by the sluttiest sorority sisters around and he was getting free rent. Jesus was once #1 in Kelly’s life until she learned how in love she was with her son. Her Myspace page was replete with pictures of she and Johnny in numerous poses as “a couple.” Jessica’s adoration with Johnny was replaced with her love of beer, and mostly getting wasted; since Johnny kept the fridge full of it, she didn’t mind him always being around. Besides, on the occasions when Kelly was preoccupied elsewhere, Johnny was never beyond giving her a quick plowing to release the tension. Kelly wasn’t a fool though, she had her suspicions and the once (though brief) BFF status between Jessi and Kelly eroded to a tense toleration. Everything almost came tumbling down when Craig Rutherford, Kelly’s husband and Johnny and Jessica’s father, came home to find his wife on the couch in pigtails making out with his son who had his hand under her shirt squeezing her tits. His darling daughter was passed out in the recliner, with a beer bottle still in her hand. The staunch Southern Baptist would have freaked out once the initial shock wore off, but that what my emergency signal was there for. North Primrose Lane had a brief brownout, and Craig’s knees buckled as he suffered the most intense migraine of his life. When he recovered, it was Mongo—party boy extraordinaire—who stood up. After a hoot at the kids making out, he shotgunned a beer, and pumped up the volume of the television before he got to work at fondling his unconscious daughter. That was a week ago—Mongo and Jessi are now quite an item.

No one understood the darkness that was Andrea Shapiro’s life like Seth did. No one could comfort the rage within Seth than Andrea. Andrea reveled in her Daisy persona. She was able to show her disgust with the conformist world and she did so with her dark make-up, piercings and jet-black hair. She knew how erotic she was too, and taunted the world by accentuating it through corsets, stiletto boots, and dark, sweaty leather. Seth liked how she dressed too, and his attention provided an additional incentive. It was Seth that quelled the other feelings within Andrea—the unfathomable feelings of unworthiness. Seth was rough with her and she loved it. He would bind her and she would quiver with lust; he spanked her and she would moan in orgasm. She was her son’s little s&m slut. It wasn’t always rough, though, there was all the pot smoking. Getting high had remained a sexual experience between Andrea and her son. She’d lounge against her son’s chest on the floor, both in their underwear, and smoke a bowl. Seth would gently stroke her bruised body as she would fondle her son, and herself, while sucking on anything he would put to her lips.

Apartment D has been a happy place. Karen Shoemaker, once a cold and calculating dragon-lady, has regressed into a bubbly teenager. The mother/son relationship has been a benefit to both of them—Karen’s bubbly, outgoing personality, not to mention affection, has given her son a bolster of confidence, while Adam’s good nature and kindness continue to influence his mother. The two were definitely in a honeymoon period of sorts, spending all their time together, cuddling, going on walks. They even got that job at the comic book store. Yup, with a little influence from yours truly, the two closer positions opened up right before they applied. Adam seems to like the job because he gets to teach his girlfriend about comic books and Karen enjoys it because there isn’t a uniform and she is free to wear her cute, new Japanese t-shirts and style her hair in funky ways. Their sex has gotten much better too. Being the studious and scientific types, they researched how to pleasure each other on the internet and practiced; Karen also seemed to have a natural instinct for sex as well, which delighted them both. All-in-all, the last two weeks have been the best two weeks in either of their lives.

Now it’s about midnight, Saturday morning, and we can tune on to the families of 819 North Primrose. There’s an electric storm coming, but what’s the worst that could happ…

Kzzzzzzzzkkkkkkkkk, ffffffttttttttttttttttttt, rumble, kaboooooooom!

Oh shit, the power….

Meanwhile in the Apartments….

Apartment A: The Baptistes

Robert Baptiste, crony among the thugs in the apartment, futilely tried to drown out the sounds from his old bedroom as he watches television on the couch.

“Oooh, baby, mmm youz know dats how iz like it! Mmmmm, baby give momma all your cock up her azz!” Tweetie was always loud. She loved to let everyone know what SHE was doing. Right now she was on her bed, doggie style, with her cornrowed head being shoved into the mattress as her hands were pulling her glorious ass cheeks apart. The muscular son had a tight grip on her hips as he slowly drove his long, black shaft in and out of his mother’s widening asshole.

Tweetie Baptiste loves anal. She loves anal just about as much as men love her ass. Like that Rutherford boy; that honkey has already drop a grand for a couple chances to put his white cock in Tweetie’s butt. Of course there was the freebie she threw him out at the pool; Trey Dog didn’t mind—he’s knows a good business deal when he sees one. “Nnnnnn,” she moaned as her son began to pump harder. Tweetie saw this as a good opportunity to move one hand to her clit and began rubbing it like it was on fire. Her juices were soaking the sheets and her man’s sweat was soaking her back. Then

Kzzzzzzzzkkkkkkkkk, ffffffttttttttttttttttttt, rumble, kaboooooooom!

Marilyn’s mind screamed. She blinked hard, trying to resituate herself. Where was she? What was this feeling? She raised herself up onto her elbows and looked into the full-length mirror across the room. The she was, breasts swaying, hair done up like a skank, with her son with a stunned look and bare chest behind her. “Oh my god,” she realized, “his penis is in me!” Dr. Baptiste screamed in horror.

The very next second, she was naked running out the bedroom door, as Trevor was rumbling for his boxers, trying to pull together what was happening and willing his erection to subside. “Robert! Oh god, Robert!” she cried as she ran down the hall toward him.

Still groggy himself, Robert started moving to his wife. “Mare? What’s going on? Why are you naked?”

“Oh Robert…” she wailed as she crumpled into him and weeping into his shirt. Just then Trevor appeared, looking as confused as his father.

Marilyn kept crying, “Trevor…sob…was having intercourse with me!”

Rage filled Robert Baptiste’s eyes as fear, for the first time in a long time, filled Trevor’s.

Apartment B: The Rutherfords

One may think that the Rutherford family was trying to compete with the Baptistes for some sort of sex record. They weren’t. They were competing against themselves. Sometime during the last 2 weeks they had dragged some mattresses out of the bedroom and put them in the middle of the family room. Perhaps it was for this event. Mongo had challenged Johnny to see who could make their respective girl cum first. Johnny was up for it, as were the girls (after a few drinks).

Mongo had Jessi missionary style, his arms wrapped around her body, as he pressed his face into the pillow beside her face. Like a dumb animal, the father was thrusting his hips up and down into his daughter. Jessi was giggling and enjoying the uncouth fucking. She really liked Mongo. He treated her well, was awesome to drink with and was hilarious. He also hadn’t made comment to the fact that Jessi had put on some weight recently. Her once athletic body has become softer and her face rounder. She should probably hit the gym, but Mongo didn’t care.

To their right was Johnny being ridden cowgirl style by a still pigtailed Kelly. Her huge tits being well tended to by her own hands as her son guided her up and down by her hips. She wasn’t happy that her leg was touching that Mongo and was even more distressed that that bitch Jessi looked like she was about to cum. She wanted to win for Johnny. Maybe if she started talking dirty… Johnny liked that.

Pulling hard at her own nipples as Johnny smiled at her, she cooed, “you like fucking this slut don’t you? Make your slut cum, baby. I want it so bad.” He began to thrust harder.

“Kelly’s got some sass, huh Johnny?” Mongo said with a laugh as he continued to ram into his teenage daughter. Johnny laughed as Kelly bounced.

“Sass, and ass my brutha!” Johnny cried as he shoved his pinky into Kelly’s asshole. “Uhh, UHH,” the mother started bucking faster and gave her daughter a victorious look.

Jessi returned her rival a dirty look, and began to exhort her man, “I’m such a nasty bitch, letting you fuck me in front of other people. You make me want to be so dirty.” Mongo picked up his rhythm as his daughter pressed her heels into his ass and pulled him closer. Kelly snarled back at her. They made eye contact.

“Oh Johnny, I’m a dirty, little whore for you!”

“I’m a big fucking whore for you Mongo-man!”

“Fuck your bitch!”

“Fuck this cunt!

“Fu

Kzzzzzzzzkkkkkkkkk, ffffffttttttttttttttttttt, rumble, kaboooooooom!

The bouncing slowed down and the power went out. The room was silent in the darkness.

“Daddy?” Jessica cried.

“Mom!” grunted Johnny as his cock erupted.

Kelly threw herself backward onto the couch. Craig had already flung himself off and was shaking as he paced around the kitchen. Jessica, still dazed though on the verge of crying looked over at her brother whose cock was diminishing. He looked dazed too. She sprinted into her bedroom. Johnny slowly walked to his.

Kelly looked over to her husband of 20 or so years. He was still hard and involuntarily stroking his erection. She couldn’t chastise, she began orgasming once she hit the couch. She was appalled, and disgusted. She was scared and worried for her children and furious at her husband. She was all of these things, but she was still blissed-out from cumming so hard. She sneered at Craig from the couch as her body twitched. He sat down at a kitchen chair.

Crying could be heard from Jessica’s bedroom. Kelly didn’t know what to do.

Apartment C: The Shapiros

Seth had just finished lightly whipping Daisy as she lay blindfolded, spread-eagle, 4-point bound on her bed. Her shaven pussy was engorged and dripping. She was gasping. Seth began to tug at his cock, getting it ready to plunge into his woman. Daisy sensed it. She stuck out her tongue and it began to move around—probing for contact, needing to play with anything, another tongue, a cock, a dildo.

The teen climbed on top of his mother and squeezed her left breast and twisted the nipple ring. Andrea gritted her teeth then smiled. Then she felt Seth penetrate her. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist but couldn’t. The denial drove her wild, her tongue began flailing again as she crouched her neck up seeking to make a connection. Seth grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back down. Her tongue still darted about. Seth sucked it into his mouth. He kissed her hard and passionately and she returned his feelings. She bucked her hips as Seth thrust into her.

Kzzzzzzzzkkkkkkkkk, ffffffttttttttttttttttttt, rumble, kaboooooooom!

My spell over the Shapiros had broken. Neither stopped. The kissing continued for another minute before Seth leaned back to see what was going on. He looked down on the pale body of his mother, squirming and moaning. He gently squeezed her breast, which caused her to shudder. He pussy was still wrapped around him and he must admit that it felt perfect. Maybe this was a dream. If it was, might as well go along with it.

She knew she was bound, and she knew she was getting fucked. But with all the pleasure, all the confusion, and all the other sensations, Andrea Shapiro lacked the willpower and the desire to try and stop any of it. With a tired smile on her face, she unknowingly resigned herself to allowing her son to finish fucking her.

ApartmentD: The Shoemakers

The Shoemakers aren’t fucking. Nope, they’re playing World of Warcraft. But they are still being lovey-dovey. Sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, each on their own laptop, they playfully engaged in a game of “footsie” allowing the other’s bare toes to entangle with their own and to stroke their ankles and legs. In Azeroth, AAdam4 was helping Olyandra grind up to level 40 so she could get her mount. Adam was excited because she was so close. Adam’s excitement excited Karen, who melted over how adorable he was.

Olyandra: brb

AAdam4: ?

Adam looked up from his screen. His mother had vanished. Then he felt her hand on his crotch. He put his hand to her’s nervously to help her unzip his pants. She swatted him away. Adam heard her giggle.

Adam was holding onto his seat for dear life as Karen vigorously sucked his dick. Karen had blown her son a dozen times or so and had really enjoyed it. She also enjoyed making him happy. The same reasons could be given for Adam’s acquired cunilingus skills. Karen begun to scratch her son’s

Kzzzzzzzzkkkkkkkkk, ffffffttttttttttttttttttt, rumble, kaboooooooom!

The lights went out, but the laptops did not—battery power. The sucking stopped, but Adam’s did not and came—teenage boy power.

“Uh, uh, what the fuck?” Karen screamed and hit her head against the table. Adam’s mouth just hung open.

In the glow of he laptop, Karen rose. Her son’s semen on her face. Adam’s lips quivered.

“Get out!” she screams as she pointed at the apartment door.

Adam ran from the apartment and into the rain.

The Control Room

Shit, shit, shit! I should have been more prepared for something like this. I scramble around for several minutes, praying the families can keep their shit together until I can fix this problem, when power returns.

“Rebooting,” says the robotic voice from the control panel. I check the system for any damage and don’t find any. I look at the residents on the cctv monitors. Robert Baptiste is screaming at his son, backing him up into a corner, as his still naked wife crumbles into a sobbing mess, too distraught to find something to cover herself. The women of apartment B are also sobbing, as the men pace in silence. At least they have taken the time to hide their shameful bodies. Seth seems to have left the master bedroom after getting off. He did release one of his mother’s fuzzy shackles to let her deal with the rest while he slinks away. Karen is in the shower scrubbing away what dirt she thinks is present as her Sonic-care addresses the taste of her son’s cock in her mouth. Adam is nowhere to be seen. Not good.

“System ready.”

I probably shouldn’t, but I turn the emitters up to full power—the first and only time excluding the Craig Mongo Rutherford incident. Yup, bad move. As the brown out occurs, the main control screen flickers, and then flashes red. ERROR.

Apartment A: The Baptistes

Trevor’s face burned from where his father had struck him. Robert was now holding him up against the wall. Marilyn was sobbing and screaming for Robert to stop. Her tearful face was streaked with her whorish make-up and she was covering her breasts with one arm and her nethers with the opposing hand.

“Are you out of your mind, son!” Robert screamed over both his wife and a strange shrill tone that just started emanating in the apartment.

Trevor had no words, he was stunned at where he found himself inside his mother, and stunned to be where he was now.

“Boy, answer me!”

“Robert,” Marilyn cried, “please stop, you’re too angry!” She was still Trevor’s mother.

Robert growled. He literally growled. Trevor’s fear begun to subside. The pain from the pressure of his father’s weight was beginning to anger him. He watched as his mother circled around him and his father, frantic. He pushed his father back. Trevor grunted and met his dad’s gaze. Robert backed up a bit and then charged his son.

Marilyn shrieked. Her recent abuse left her mind as she began to focus on what was in front of her. He dear husband was about to kill her son. If he could. Her heartbeat quickened. Her back and forth pacing sped up, her bare feet padding on the hardwood floor as Trevor and Robert wrestled before her. They were so vicious, grabbing, pummeling, even biting the other.

“SHE MINE!” Robert grunted, “NOT YOURS!”

Trevor struck his father, “no. she mine.”

Her son’s claim did not phase Marilyn who working into a different kind of frenzy now. No longer bothering to cover her body, the 44-year-old was prancing to and fro, legs tense in a crouch, big breasts swaying, sweating profusely. Men, she thought, need men. Wildly, she hooted and hollered at the warriors before her, eagerly awaiting a victor.

“Yeaahhh! Ooh. Ohh. You’re so fucking manly!” she called to both of them.

Trevor looked up to see his mother turned feral. He saw her hard black nipples and her engorged pussy waiting to be filled. He had to mate with her. With two strikes to his father’s temple, he was able to push the man aside and approach his prize.

Marilyn was grinning madly as her son walked up to her with his cock jutting straight out. He kept walking straight until his dick began to push into Marilyn’s smooth stomach and slide up. She gleefully began stroking it. It was sweaty. She was sweaty. She grunted twice as she stared into her son’s bestial eyes. Marilyn Baptiste needed to mate.

“Me fuck momma.” It was not a question.

“Yes. Fuck momma. Me fuck son. Fuck good.” She was rubbing her hands all over her son’s chiseled body.

Trevor looked down at his mother and spit on her face. Right between her nose and upper lip. Marilyn’s tongue darted out and quickly licked up her son’s mark. She pressed her chest against his. With a grunt of his own, Trevor took his mother.

The sex was vicious. They clawed at each other and bit. Neither spoke words, only grunted and snarled, and at times, yelped when the pain became too great. Trevor was fucking his mother bare-back, without a care in the world about impregnation. In fact he had a strong desire to plant his seed with in her. To pass along his seed. To make his mother truly his bitch. He squeezed her black tit, the Tweety-tattooed tit, instinctually knowing that it would one-day drip with milk.

Marilyn was happy because she was being bred. She then felt a hand wrap around her ankle. Robert was conscious. He had his shorts around his knees and was jacking himself off to the sight of his son fucking his wife. It seemed he wanted a turn. His grunt certified it. But Marilyn would not have any of it. She wiggled her thick muscley leg until she had her bare foot on Roberts forehead, and kicked. She then started cumming as Trevor began to fill her with sperm. Robert stayed away.

Once deflated, Trevor pulled himself from Marilyn and was quickly asleep, proud of his accomplishment. Marilyn got herself upright and galloped around the apartment, as if it was her first time there. She noticed Robert curled on the couch and approached him inquisitively. He was still playing with his erection.

“You fuck son.” The father said.

Marilyn smiled widely at her husband and thrust her tits out, crushing them in her hand. She grunted in assent.

“Why fuck son?”

“Son strong. Fuck good.” Even as she said this, she began to present to Robert. It was instinct. She had been bred by the alpha-male, and it was ok now to be promiscuous. Robert began to spread his legs as he sat on the couch. Marilyn gave him her ass, which he happily took control of, as he guided the woman’s sloppy pussy onto his engorged member.

Apartment B: The Rutherfords

Jessica was hugging her pillow as she cried. Her father had been raping her! Or at least that’s what it must have been. Certainly it could not have been consensual, but it kind of felt that way too. She struggled with recent events. As she calmed down some, she noticed her body. She was not as taught and sinewy as she remembered, and she couldn’t figure out why. She was still naked.

Standing up, she walked over to her full-length mirror and stared at herself. It was all wrong. Her teenaged body should be athletic, not so soft.

“What…” Jessica started.

Then she stopped. She started thinking about her clothes. Could she still fit in them? Why am I so concerned about my clothes, when dad was just fuckin’ me? She wondered, though briefly.

“Gosh, ma tits got bigger!” She exclaimed with a hint of a drawl. She could hear her mother raisin’ her voice to pa. She always sure did show her southern breedin’ when she got mad.

Without bothering with panties, Jessi pulled on a pair of denim shorts. It was a difficult since she was a size 2 a couple weeks ago, but was now a size 6. She had to leave the top button undone and tiny roll of fat bunched up around the waist. Jessi thought she looked good. Without bothering with a bra, Jessi pulled on a too-tight white tank that stretched around her fattened boobs.

She posed for a few moments more. The normally bright teen could did not notice the vacant look in her eyes as she did so. I suspect the emitters were frying some brain cells at a rapid rate. They were, of course, also providing their main function too.

“Golly, I could shure use me some lovin,” Jessi said aloud, with an even stronger southern accent. She, thankfully, didn’t need to think very hard of a solution. Jessi has plenty of cock here at home. She giggled at the thought of incest.

“Ain’t nuttin’ wrong wit it,” she mused, “Jus’ keepin it’all in da family.” Images of a lifetime of family fucking rushed through her mind. Being a child and takin bathes with John-boy. Helping Daddy with his pecker. Gettin’ woke up by her horney ma’s head ‘tween her legs! Shucks ma sho loves ma cunny! Hell, ma would fuck’a doggie if it shows her a bit of affection, she giggled. Jessi dint see nuttin wrong wit that, tho. Dogs, pigs, brothers, all got the same thing… big dicks and small brains. She giggled again and skipped barefoot next door to Johnny’s room.

Johnny, it seemed was comin to visit his sister. He was still naked, but had put on a lot of cologne and a lot of gel in his hair. He combed it hard to the right.

“John-boy,” Jessi chuckled.

“Jessi-Lynn,” John-boy replied. His accent was also quite southern. To his sister’s delight, his cock was hardening.

“MMMHMMMHMM, yo pecker is always rarin’ to go, aint it John-boy?”

“Sho is, sis,” John-boy said proudly, “You wanna suck?”

“You know I do!” she said as she dropped to her knees and pushed Johnny onto his bed. She immediately started choking on his cock. John-boy loved that sound. He languished in the feeling of his penis pulsing in his kid-sister’s hot throat. It was sho fine havin such a purty sister. Then he noticed sumtin.

“Jessi-Lynn?” he asked out loud.

Jessi stopped her suckin, and looked up at him with her big eyes.

“You put on weight?”

She spit out his cock. “JOHN-BOY!” she shrieked as she smacked his thigh hard, “I’d have you know that it sho is po’ manners to ask a lady such a thing!”

“You ain’t none lady,” John-boy reminded, “you get’cho kicks off makin’ out wit 10-yea-ole’ boys cause you like to see dere lil pee-pee’s come!” Jessi blushed hard. That did make her hot. Next came a shout from the living room.

“KIDS! Stop dat bickerin’ and getcho asses in here!” It was their father, Craig. John-boy and Jessi hussled to comply—Johnny still naked.

Neither child found it odd to see their mother, Kelly Jo (still in pigtails) naked on her knees sucking Craig’s soiled cock with enthusiasm. Both Johnny and Jessi enjoyed the sight of their mother’s firm ass resting on her heels as her sculpted back contracted and loosened in time with her bobbing head. Craig, naturally, had a beer in hand.

“You puttin on weight Jessi-girl?” her father asked. Jessi-Lynn blushed again and nodded.

“Sho looks good, baby. Youse gotcho self some real mutherin hips now. Jus’ got to getchu some baby juice ‘side you.” Craig complimented.

Like a lil girl, Jessi-Lynn twisted he big toe into the dirty carpet and looked into the air ponderously. “I done wonder who in the world will knock me up good and plenty?”

Proudly, John-boy moved to his sister’s side, and wrapped his arm around her back, his hand promptly fishing out a breast from the tank top.

Chin still upturned, Jessi “humphed,” and moved closer to her father, right behind the cock-sucking Kelly Jo. She tapped her mother’s shoulder.

Kelly Jo looked up and smiled at her daughter. With the vibrance and twang of Dolly Parton welcoming travelers to Pigeon Forge, she exclaimed, “Jessi! Now how is my lovely baby gurl?” She began stroking her daughter’s leg as she gazed up to her with a face covered in messy make up.

“Momma?” she began, “mind if I get a turn riding Pa? I’m fixin to gets myself preggers.”

“Why sho! I don mind a bit,” Kelly Jo said, pressed down on her husband’s knees and stood up. She backed up as Jessi Lynn threw a leg over her Pa, straddled him, and slowly lowered her quim over his daddy dick. She then began gyrating as she stuck her tongue in her father’s mouth.

Kelly Jo was delighting in her son’s ogling of her nekkid body. She knew she had the finest knockers around and she sho did like to put her finger inside her hot box. She’s been doin’ it all her life. “Well John-boy, you betta get over ‘ere and start showin yo ma’ some lovin, it’s a might drafty in here, as my nipples do declare,” they were ‘declaring’ but they were also being aided by Kelly’s twisting.

John-boy laid his mother down on one of the mattresses and began to suckle as his beloved momma ran her hands through his hair and groaned. This was a routine between mother and son. He suck her some, and she’d titty fuck him. Once he got his fill of his momma’s boobs, he repositioned himself on top of her, as Kelly Jo squeezed her breast together to receive her child cock. A mother and son reveling in a beloved routine and a daughter attempting to have her father’s child all based on false memories created by my malfunctioning emitter.

Apartment C: The Shapiros

Seth could not stop masturbating and his cock was sore. Two minutes ago, he was buried in his mother. Besides the initial shock of that, he could to break himself of his immediate fascination with her body, her creamy breasts, her warm thighs. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? He continued to tug on his poor penis.

Meanwhile, Andrea was stumbling around in the darkness of her room. After catching her breath and regaining some perspective of what was going in, she managed to free herself. She felt so weird. Her body tingled and she was scared. Where was Seth? Had the person who molested her attacked him? Andrea pulled a matronly blouse and dress from her drawer then noticed herself in the mirror. It took a second to register in her addled brain.

“Oh my GAWDDD!!!” Andrea reacted in a very nasally voice, “muy bawdy! It’s frightful! Oh my gawd, what haaappened?” She started to explore her piercings, “it’s sooo tacky, gaaawd.”

Still her matronly instinct was overpowering (an overstatement). She dressed, put on her thick spare glasses and ran to her son’s room.

KNOCK, KNOCK. “Seth? Youse in dere? Seeeeth?” she whined.

“Yeah mom, go away!”

“Seth, open up dis doooor! I needs to make sure my bubie boy is safe!” Then she realized Seth didn’t lock his door. She opened it and burst in.

“MOM!”

“SETH! My goodness, what are you doins? You touching you smecker!” Andrea observed.

“Mom, get out!” Seth cried. He could not stop masturbating, especially as his fantasy, his beloved mutha was in his room.

Andrea Shapiro was not about to leave. Not when her son was in distress. Sure some people, mostly gentiles, would say she was being TOO over protective, but Andrea just loved her son too much to allow him to suffa.

“Nawsense,” Andrea said to him, “my bubie’s smeckle is all hard an painful, and your mutha can help!” She slinked up beside Seth on his bed, and began to take over the masturbation. Seth groaned in pleasure and stretched out.

“You would not believe what happened to me,” Andrea began, feeling awfully chatty all of a sudden, “I woke up and some monsta had me tied down and was having sex wit me, putting his dirty penis inside me! Can you believe it?”

Seth could only mutter as his mother’s soft hand worked on his throbbing penis. She took a moment to suck on his cock, lubricating it. “Sethy is all hard for his mutha,” she noticed and continue to rub, “See bubbie, youse don’t need to go fa, mommy will take care of youse.”

Seth could not take it anymore. He reached out and grabbed his mother breast and started to knead it. “Dats a boy, don’t be embarrassed, youse can touch. You knows no body in dis whole world loves you more den your mutha.”

Seth stared at his mutha. Her eye’s enlarged behind old glasses, her hair a tangled mess. He loved the feel of her breast in his hand. “I loves you too mutha.” All he wanted was to let his mother take care of him, to be his mutha’s bubbie forever and ever. Andrea was only too happy to oblige.

“Mommy will make you feel so good.” She stopped rubbing Seth and stood up. Slowly, She unbuttoned her blouse revealing her busom. She then dropped her skirt. Seth looked up his naked mother and invited her back to him with open arms.

Andrea entered his embrace and help guide her son inside her. “Oh Sethy! Youse so big! I loves yah!” she cackled. Seth continued to buck his hips. Andrea lacked savvy and grace, she was just warm and comforting. She was his mutha. “Oh, oh, oh!” Andrea shrilled until Seth started kissing her lips. Andrea reacted by slipping her son the tongue.

The Shapiros rolled around until they were entangled in Seth’s sheets. Eventually, Andrea began to lose it.

“Oh! Oh gawd, Seth, I gonna cum! I gonna cum,” she was clawing his back.

“Me too ma! Gahhh!”

“Pull out bubbie! Doncha cum ins me!” Andrea struggled to disengage their hips. She managed to do so, and Seth spurted all over his mother’s stomach. Andrea, took the time to enjoy her orgasm. She leaned over to look at her son, huffing and puffing. He was still looking at her like a hungry baby. Andrea offered Seth her left bosom, to which he began to suck.

Content and loved, Seth nestled into his mother, and when he was done sucking on her, promptly fell asleep.

Apartment D: The Shoemakers

Staring at herself in the steamy bathroom mirror, Karen Shoemaker forgot about her son (and what she had been doing to him) and began to worry about money.

Adam had been sitting on a park bench for the past hour. It had stopped raining, but he was still crying. What was going on? What was he going to do? Why was his mother doing that to him? Would things ever be the same? Crap.

Looking up, Adam could see a big, white Irish-looking man soliciting a prostitute on the other side of a playground. He was huge, maybe 6′5″, and almost as wide. The woman was about 5′7″, only because of her heels. She had on fishnet leggings and a camouflage bikini top on. Her short skirt barely covered any ass. It was about 1:30 am, but she was wearing huge sunglasses.

Suddenly the big man noticed an approaching patrol car. Acting quickly, he grabbed the hooker’s hand and started running. Toward Adam! He tensed up. Seconds later, the big man and the woman were sitting with him on the bench.

He was between the two of them. The big man said to him, “act cool. Like a family or something.” Adam nodded. Then he turned as he felt the whore’s hot breath on the back of his neck.

He was face to face with his mother, Karen. She was nodding vigorously in agreement with the big man. “Ya. Quiet, then me give suckie, suckie. You give Ki-Ki five dolla.” Adam’s disbelief grew. His mother’s make-up was, well, whorish, and her hand was rubbing his crotch. She did have a sly smile, as the idea of two johns so quickly began to delight her.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll get your money,” the man said, “once the cops roll out. And kid, if you want a piece, just be advised, I’m first.”

This man was staking dibs on his mother! And his mother was thrilled! As an aside, I realize that the Shoemakers were away from my emmiters. Well, Adam was obviously clean of the effects, and Karen was warped by the sheer power of the signal that I sent out. Also, my control center was in this park, and I could see the interaction. Like right now, the cops did not roll off, but pulled up to the bench.

“Hey, everything all right out here?” asked the cop in the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” said the big man, “just one big happy family. My girlfriend’s kid here, well he ran away. We just found him and are talking it out.”

“You ok, kid?” the cop asked.

“Yeah,” Adam started, “just sitting with my mom.” He looked at her. Karen had a mixed look of business, concern, and well, cluelessness. She clearly knew things may go bad, but didn’t seem to appreciate the situation. “And her…boyfriend.”

There some silence as the two police officers weighed the veracity of Adam’s claim. It seemed more that they didn’t want to bother with whatever complicated shit that was going down. They drove off.

In slow motion, Adam watched as a five-dollar bill stretched by him, from big man’s hand to Karen’s greedy hands. She promptly stuffed the bill into her bra. Karen looked at Adam, “you wan suckie?” Me suckie him. Me suckie you?” She used he finger to point out the order in which she intended to “suckie.”

“Um,” ummed Adam.

“Come here babe,” the big man said and held his cock out.

Now Karen did not know any other language besides English, and the emitters are not a second-language software. So the string of gibberish that came out of her mouth was just that, gibberish, meant to sound Asian. Very stereotypically Asian.

“Oh, it rearry, rearry big!” Karen said and got on her knees in the dirt. She began sucking while still rubbing her son’s cock. She didn’t want Adam to leave without being served (without paying for the service too). Her pretty, almond-shaped eyes opened wide as she gazed up to the Irishman. She coughed and hacked as she took him down her throat. Adam sat in silence, trying to will his erection down. He couldn’t.

Karen, or Ki-Ki, loved or seemed to love her job. For the sum of $5, she put much effort in. Flicking the head of the cock with her tongue, spitting on the cock, and so forth. For his worth, the big man continued to hold out. About 3 minutes into the blow job, Ki-Ki rested her slutty face on the man’s thigh and vigorously stroked the slick member with her hand. She looked at Adam now. Before she swallowed dick again, she said in a squeaky voice, “yummi, yummi!” Ki-Ki knew how to entice customers.

The Irishman tensed and Ki-Ki knew he was about to cum. Again, she switched from blowjob to handjob, looked up and gave the man a look of pure desperation, one that said, “Ki-Ki need your cum cum.” Then my emitter’s hold over Karen Shoemaker broke. Her eye’s flickered; the hand on Adam’s crotch moved to her forehead and swiped her bangs from her eyes. Her right hand kept rubbing through sheer momentum and her mouth remained open. The Irishman’s cock exploded on Karen’s face as Karen regained full recognition of where she was.

She shrieked and fell backward on her ass. The second squirt caught her on the top of her breasts. “Oh my god! What the fuck!” Karen was desperately trying to wipe her face clean. “Fuck! Fuck!” she cried with disgust. Then with horror, she looked up at the big white man.

He was coming down from his orgasm and looking at Karen. He was clearly still hungry. Karen’s heart was beating out of her chest. “So Ki-Ki,” he smirked, “gonna give me some yummy cunny?” She realized that her legs were spread and she was revealing her shaven nethers.

With a grunt Karen rammed her platform shoe into the john’s groin and jumped to her feet. The instant before she began running she made eye-contact with her bewildered son. Adam took off after her. For a small Asian woman, she could haul ass in 6-inch heels. Behind them the man shouted, “bitch!” And the Shoemakers could hear him beginning to give chase. So the mother and son duo ran home. They burst into the common area and into Apartment D. Inside Apartment D, the emitters still rang.

“Adam! Close the door!” Karen scream. Her son rushed to comply. Then, seriously deprived of oxygen and leaning on the kitchen table, she asked aloud, “what the FUCK, is going on?”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“EY! Get out here you bitch!” It was the big Irish dude.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Adam turned around to look for guidance from his mom. She was already gone. Once again the Asian whore persona had washed over the businesswoman. She was pulling up her torn fishnets and adjusting her tits in her bra. She made a kissy face at her son and winked.

Adam winked back. But he was clearly nervous. The past two weeks that he spent loving his mother, becoming confident and safe with her, were wiped away. All that remained was a human parody of a nerdy anime businessman, awkwardly smiling at the prostitute before him. His hands were frantically trying to dig his wallet from his pants.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

With her ass swaying to and fro, Karen strolled to the door and demurely opened it. “You wan ‘massage’?” she asked without recognition. The big man ceased holding his head and looked at the whore. The nerdy, businessmany, Irishman smiled at her nervously and handed her fistfuls of dollars. He followed her inside. Once inside the Shoemaker residence he stood next to young Adam. They stared at each other giggling. They were about to lose their virginity!

Suddenly the stereo was on and dance music filled the apartment. The two “boys” turned to see Karen, naked but for her stilettos, standing in the middle of the living room.

“We party now?”

Both guys nodded vigorously and started to strip. Karen watched them passively, giggled and began to dance to the music. She wasn’t a good dancer by any means, but she did know what men like to see. Accordingly, Karen made sure she shook her ass a lot and wiggled her tits around. All the while her vapid smile never left her face.

Adam and Irish timidly walked over to Ki-Ki with their members jutting out in front of them. If Karen couldn’t dance, these two were much worse. All they really did was place their hand on their hips and make thrusting movements in Ki-Ki’s general direction. This is what Ki-Ki was looking for and she giggled in delight. “Ki-Ki party!” she squealed and squatted as she took a cock in each hand. Adam and Irish just smiled like jokers.

From my cameras I could truly appreciate Karen/Ki-Ki’s physical form. Sure her face was made up like a street whore and her brain told her that she actually was one, but her physique told another story. In her squatted position—with a bimbo smile on her face, being broken by the cocks sliding in and out of her lips—I could really see how toned this woman was. Her light brown/olive skin had a perfect amount of muscle and flesh. Her breasts were perfect her ass even more so. And now Ki-Ki Shoemaker was offering up her well-worked for, sublime, sublime body to what she believed were two johns.

“Ki-Ki love cocky!” she said looking up to her two paying customers as she vigorously jacked them off. “You wan fuck Ki-Ki’s ass?”

Looking at the beautiful apple-bottom, both men nodded. “Ok, five dolla!”

Adam and Irish paid without regret.

Control Room

Ok. Time to suit up. The short circuit has definitely messed up these families. Well, messed them up in ways that I haven’t intended, which isn’t good. My only option is to go in to the apartment building with my trusty soldering iron and fix the emitters.

I put in my special earplugs, put on my rain slicker and headed down the block. I also pack a few rubbers in my pocket. You know…just in case.

Apartment A: The Baptistes

So I have a key. Keys to the entire joint, actually. Using the one marked “A” I open and enter into the Baptistes’ apartment. The outside streetlamps lit the apartment. The men were asleep on the couch and the floor. Marilyn, however, was stretched out like a panther on the couch-back—stretched out like a NAKED panther. On second thought, maybe I should say “cougar.”

The doctor was awake and shone with sweat. Her fat black nipples were still hard and her cunt was engorged. The 44-year-old looked like a primal fuck beast and she was eyeing me. Languidly, she slid off the couch and sauntered over to me. She was abnormally crouched over, as if she wanted to use her arms to help her move. Once she got to me she smiled—as if she knew with absolute positivity that I would be fucking her soon. She circled around me dragging her nails along my coat and snapping at me with her gold-rimmed teeth. Her tits, as large as they are, dragged along my torso.

Eventually, my resolve diminished and my hand reached out and grabbed her bubbly ass cheek. She grunted like an animal and pressed her short body against my tall one. The juices from her pussy were seeping through my khackis as she rubbed it up and down my leg.

“UG!” she grunted as she bucked her hips into me, “UG!”

I steadied her by grabbing her soft sides and looked deep into her lust-filled eyes, “You want me to fuck you, you stupid whore?”

“UHHH!” she began wiggling her tongue at me.

“Oh, Mrs. Baptiste, you are a randy one,” I remark as I shove her to the floor. She quickly scrambles around and thrusts her ass high in the air—showing it to me; giving it to me.

I’ve never had a black woman before. I’ve never wanted one more. On her hands and knees before me was the epitome of every hot, black sitcom mother. Phylicia Rashad in corn rows right at my feet. I pulled my cock out and kneeled behind Marilyn. I could feel the heat off her black skin. She was panting in anticipation.

I slowly pushed my protected shaft into Marilyn Baptiste, Mother of Trevor and Wife to Robert. She hissed in pleasure. I reached around to fondle her hanging breasts and she groaned. Then things got a bit wilder.

Marilyn suddenly became aggressive and pushed back into my cock, burying it deeper inside her. I could feel her warm vaginal wall contract around my shaft and begin milking it. And then she began bucking wildly. I couldn’t release if I wanted to. I could only hold on as the cougar shook her body for my pleasure. I was able to continue to press into her, my penis throbbing and reaching. Her feet locked in my legs and the black woman howled. So did I as I came. Thankfully the men did not stir.

I fell out of her with a gasp and lied on the floor. Marilyn curled next to me and smiled. I reached out and stroked her body. Like a kitten, she stretched and rolled reveling in the sensations. Then she wrapped her right leg around mine, scrunched up to me and drifted off to sleep. Ever have a cat fall asleep on you and not want to wake it because it seems so peaceful? Well that’s how I’m feeling. I have time, I think. So I wrap my arm around her soft body and take a short nap.

I bet you’re thinking that Trey Dog and Robert wake up before me and wackiness ensues, huh? Well no. I only nap for an hour and they are still passed out when I shove Marilyn off me. She groans. I get to work. It only takes me 15 minutes to repair the damage. Marilyn, with her animal-like brain, followed me around like a dog.

Once I finish, however, the boys start to wake up. No matter, I pull out my trusty remote and power down the emitters in the apartment for a brief moment.

“Uh,” Trevor says, “what’s happening.”

“My god, Mare!” Robert yells and runs to his wife naked but full of concern, “are you ok?”

“Oh, Robert!” she cried, “what is going on!” She started sobbing into his shoulder. No one notices me yet. Until Trevor points me out.

“Who the hell are you?” He yells and points. Thankfully, his nakedness and shame kept him from charging me.

“Me? I’m the land lord.” I say with dramatic flair, as I flick another switch pouring the emitter’s signal into the apartment at full blast.

Instantaneously, the Baptistes grab their heads in pain. Then, like clockwork, the family regains their senses.

Robert continued to try to hug his wife. She promptly pushed him away.

“Scuse me!” she said with her re-found ghetto accent, “whatchu tink you ah doinz, dog?”

“Shit, waz is goin on,” Tweetie continued to speak. I looked at the doctor, now turned ghetto whore and smiled with pride. Her eyes that once shone with intelligence now only shone indifference. She didn’t even seem to care that she was naked. She then turned to me, “Whatchu lookin at?” she smiled predatorily—the whore in her seeing some cash, “Want some brown sugar?” She hefted her brown tits at me and jiggled them ludely.

Have already satisfied my sweet-tooth, I declined. Trevor then entered into the standing circle that we created.

“Wazzup.”

“Baby!” Tweetie shrilled and plastered herself to her son and began to gyrate. I love her ass. Since he was naked, Tweetie didn’t even hesitate before she started jacking off her son’s shaft and rubbing it up and down her stomach.

As I left the apartment, I watched as Tweetie begun to cuckold her husband once again, calling out, “Oh Trey! He’s so big Robbie! I love him so much!”

Apartment B: The Rutherfords

It’s 6am. So I decide to knock. It takes a while, but I hear shuffling around inside so I wait. Then I got rewarded when Kelly Jo opened the door. She clearly just woke up and was wearing too tight boyshorts that pronounced her camel toe and a wife-beater that did nothing to cover her perfect breasts. Her hair was still in pigtails and she reeked of sex.

“Heeey…” she said in a deep southern accent with sleep in her voice while she rubbed the fatigue from her eyes.

“Hello Ma’am, I’m the land lord, and I am here to do some maintenance. Mind if I come in?”

“Sho you can honey, you want a beer or sumtin?”

“No ma’am, it’s 6am.”

“Oh my lordie, lord it is!” Kelly exclaimed, “and here I ahm lookin a fright!” She thrust her chest out at me to show me how much of a fright she is. Then making eye contact, and with a hint of seduction, she spun and led me into Apartment B.

The once fastidious apartment of the once fastidious Christian homemaker was now a disgusting mess. Food was ground into the carpeting in the family room, the tile in the kitchen was sticky. Neither sorority Kelly or white trash Kelly could give a flying fuck. Kelly Jo strolled into the kitchen and poured herself some cold and likely stale coffee and chugged it.

I heard her bare feet on the sticky floor before I saw her. Kelly drunkenly stumbled into the kitchen and muffled a slight belch. She was completely nude and smelled like her mother, the mother she stumbled into, wrapped her arms around and began sticking her tongue into. She was definitely plumper now—thick was one way to describe the once teen athlete. Kelly Jo hopped her ass onto the dirty counter and began kissing her daughter back while wrapping he legs around her.

The kissing subsided and Jessi Lynn rested her head on her mother’s breast and stared at me. “Mornin momma. Whose this guy?”

Kelly Jo stroked her daughter’s filthy hair. “Dat’s the land lord. He’s fixin to do some work round the place.”

I decided to have some fun and interrupt. “Excuse me ma’am, you allow you clearly underage daughter to drink alcohol? And you are you molesting her?”

Jessi Lynn became defensive and scared, which meant that she cradled into her mother’s body even harder. “I ain’t none molestin her!” the Christian began, “she’s my, kin, my youngin, my love, and a cer-ti-fied Ruthaferd! Nothin gets betwixt our family!” With that she pulled her daughter into a passionate kiss that Jessi Lynn enthusiastically returned. Soon the daughter had her fingers playing on her mommy’s cunt.

“I love youse momma! Youse can neva molest me, no way!” Jessi spat in to her mother’s hot mouth.

Kelly Jo responded by gently pushing her daughter back, quickly shucking her panties and spreading her legs with a girlish giggle. Jessi Lynn dove in like a hog to the slop. The mommy began to groan.

Jessi Lynn’s arm really began pumping, her fingers making audibly wet sounds in her mother’s nethers. Kelly Jo kept giggling. Using one arm to prop herself up, she slowly began massaging her huge breasts. She noticed me staring at her daughter’s jiggling bottom.

“Don you be shy. None of us are none shy or nuthin. You can touch it,” she said with husky voice. Clearly, her climax was on its way. Never one to pass up such an opportunity, I grasped Jessi slightly flabby ass with my fingertips and shook it. The teen stopped licking for a moment and turned to me smiling, “Well shuck mista, how’d you know my butt loves to be toyed with?” She began pressing back into my hand as she resumed licking. Her mother just enjoyed the debauchery going on.

That’s when John-boy walked in. Sticking with the theme of the building, he too, was buck-ass naked. Unlike the standard theme, however, was that John was flaccid. Also of note, he didn’t even seem to care that, I Ð some stranger, was in his home fondling his little sisters bare ass.

“Mahm, you quit foolin’ round, and git down here and try to get me hard,” he demanded to his mother, who immediately pushed Jessi Lynn’s head aside and slid off the counter to comply with her son’s command. “Po boy,” the pigtailed mother mumbled as she massaged his cock, “hardly nuthin been workin since what happened before, has it?”

“Nope, mama. Sho seem like only one thing can help me now…” John sighed to his fumbling mother. Oddly, Kelly Jo smiled.

“Jessi Lynn,” Kelli Jo asked, Jessi Lynn perked up (she was slinking down to her mother bubble-butt with her tongue out).

“Yes, Mamma?”

“Kin you go git Rosco? Seems John-boy needs a lil’ inspiration…”

The blonde snapped upright. “Kay, mamma. But donchu go putin all da blame on John-boy, I aint never seen you so hot and hawnie over anythin’ in all my years,” Kelli’s daughter chided, “Hey pa, git you self up, ma is gawna fuck Rosco agin!”

Craig Rutherford could be heard grumbling in the next room. A moment later, the naked teen was leading in a panting mutt. The dog was filthy and I could smell him from where I stood in the kitchen. My face scrunched in revulsion.

Kelli Jo’s reaction was a little different. They guttural moan of lust that came out of the woman was like none I have ever heard before. Suddenly, her son meant nothing to her and Kelli’s eyes rolled into the back of her head with ecstasy. As if in a trance, the naked, slutty mother crawled on hands and knees to the canine mumbling “doggy, doggy, doggy, doggy.” Once she arrives she dragged her hands about the dirty fur of the large mongrel. The dog seemed to like it.

Jessi sauntered up to me and whispered in my ear, “we found him outside the backdoor lookin for food a few hours ago. Ma saw his big ole cock and was in loooove.” She giggled and began suckin on my neck.

“Oh my lord, it’s so big an warm and yummy!” John-boy’s mother yelled to the apartment. Rosco rolled onto his back as the hick began to suck on his doggy-dick. John-boy was instantly hard, his mother clearly tapping into a new fetish of his (and hers). To be honest, seeing the blonde-haired 40 something on her knees pleasuring a dog, when she was so righteous a mere couple weeks ago, turned me on to. It seemed to turn Craig and his daughter on as well as they began to masturbate and cheer Kelli Jo on.

Kelli ceased her efforts and kneeled up and removed her useless top. With hands on her hips and breast sagging forward she asked us, “Now then, who ‘ere wantsta see Kelli Jo Ruthaferd shack up with dis ‘ere doggie?”

“Yee haw!” Jessi screamed.

“Fuck ‘im, Ma,” John-boy encouraged.

“I sho did marry myself a slut, now dinnin I?” Craig asked rhetorically.

With a growl, Kelli dropped to her knees and thrust out her ass, “woof.” Rosco was on her a moment later. Kelli Jo was herself reduced to a barking, growling slut as the dog mated with her.

“Shit, Jessi Lynn, I sho need myself a bitch…,” the now erect John-boy coaxed. His sister rolled her eyes.

“Kay, John-boy, but donchu go fo-gettin how much I’z doos for ya,” Jessi replied.

Johnny smiled and said, “neva will. Who went an bought chu dat carton of Skoal and case a Twinkies?”

“My big ole brotha did!” Jessi shrilled.

“So whose a good doe-gie?”

Jessi Lynn let out a playful “yip” as she sank down to all fours. Then like her mother, present her chubby bottom for pounding as she continued her growling and yipping. John-boy happily played Rosco while he watched his mother get rutted by a dog.

Kelli, by this point, was shaking and covered in sweat and doggie drool. She was clearly climaxing as Rosco continued his assault. Her husband must have felt inspired because he walked right up to her and offer his dick for sucking. Kelli snapped at him like an angry dog— thankfully, Craig got his pecker away just in time.

“Donchu come near meh with dat thing whenz I ahm getting’ mated!” She snarled like Dana possed by Zul.

Craig looked hurt. “But I ahm you husband!” he whimpered as his jacked off.

“I WANNA DIVORCE! Kelli Jo screamed as another orgasm ripped through her. I began to fix the emmiters while the pig-tailed PTA matron attempted to explain that she wanted to marry a stray dog and have his puppies to her masturbating husband while her children simulated her current sex act a mere foot away. From what I could hear, her bumpkin logic was quite flawed.

When I walked out of the last bedroom, the kids were done, mellowed from sex and trying to stand up. It looked like Kelli Jo and Rosco were also done. He was panting and so was she, and they were still conjoined. Craig was at the kitchen table watching and sipping a beer. It was at this time I reset the emitters.

The entire family wavered and grabbed their heads. The kids were the first to recover and were silent and fearful as to their predicament—naked in front of the other sibling! As they quickly resorted to covering their privates, Craig noticed his beloved wife knotted to a filthy mongrel dog. He tried to stand to rescue her, but he was incredibly drunk. “Kelly!” he slurred in concern. Kelly Rutherford was clearly being traumatized as she came to realize her situation. Her mouth was moving but nothing—not the screams I expected—came out. I then did them a favor and turned the emitters back on.

It took a moment. It was as if the souls of the “college students” within each of them returned to their bodies. Johnny laughed.

“O-M-F-G, Kelli, you must be so drunk!” he just kept laughing.

Jessi and Mongo somehow materialized cell phones and were taking pictures promising to put them up on Facebook. Kelli just struggled to get free. It was clear that fucking a dog was not beyond her should she get smashed enough.

Apartment D: The Shoemakers

As I left the Rutherford’s apartment, I almost bumped into the big Irish guy. He still had a goofy smile on his face and he bowed to me before exiting the property. He left the Shoemaker’s apartment door open, so I went there next. It was about 7:30am.

I entered to what seemed to be an empty apartment. Then I saw Adam passed out on the floor. His face and his crotch were covered in makeup from his trist with his mother. Given that the coast was clear, I fixed the emitters and restored them to the proper setting. Then I went to visit the Shapiros.

Apartment C: The Shapiros

8am and I knock on Andrea Shapiro’s door. The attorney answered the door wearing a lot of make up with her hair sprayed out large. She had on fluffy slippers and was wearing a fairly matronly nightie. Nevertheless, the nigthie did little to hide the woman’s breasts.

“Hehlooo?” she asked in a nasally voice.

“Hi Miss. Shapiro, I am the land lord. I came to do some routine maintenance. My I take a moment to review your apartment?” I ask.

Again, nasally, “Suuure, dearie. Jus ignore the mess!,” she said pointing to the apartment that has been used an incestual fuck palace for the entire night. Then she mentioned, “And don’t mind my Sethy…Iz gots him a hooka! An or-e-ental!”

I nodded at her—so that’s where Karen went off too. She must have slipped in right before I bumped into the Irish guy. Then Karen came out of the bathroom. She was naked and demure. Her pussy was freshly shaven and all her whorish make-up removed. Timidly, she looked up at Andrea.

“Ki-Ki is, how do you say, ready?” she chirped.

Andrea stamped over the beautiful Karen Shoemaker and began grabbing at her as if she were inspecting cattle. Actually, she more-or-less was. Karen assumed a statuesque position, with her fake tits thrust out, her legs parted with her hands on her hips. Andrea grabbed at Ki-Ki’s spherical tits, rubbing the nipples to ensure they would harden appropriately. She clenched Ki-Ki’s ass. She spit on her finger and clinically inserted it into Ki-Ki’s cunt and then her ass. By the time she was through, Karen/Ki-Ki was whimpering in arousal.

“Me fucky-fuck your son now?” Ki-Ki asked.

Andrea nodded approvingly at the beautiful Asian mother and led her to Seth’s room.

Ki-Ki knocked.

“Mutha, is dat youse? I ahm sooo hornney!”

Andrea turned to me as if she needed to explain why she wasn’t rushing to attend to her son’s need, and whispered, “My boys cock jus woont go down! I fucked ‘im and sucked ‘im all night. I ahm so worn and sore. Dats whys I gots him the hooka,” she explained with all the reason in the world.

Ki-Ki slowly slipped in Seth’s room. He was on his bed slowly and roughly masturbating his swollen cock while munching on some toast. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I Ki-Ki, and I am going to make you feel so good Seth-san.”

Karen’s capacity for English seemed to be improving. Like a house cat, the lithe whore prowled onto the teenager’s bed and took command of his dick. She threw one leg over him, and slowly lowered herself onto to Seth. His eyes rolled back in pleasure as Karen gasped in satisfaction.

His hips thrust. Karen let out a high-pitched “eee.”

His hips thrust again, and again Karen “eeee’d”

He thrust a third time and the fucking truly began. Karen grabbed Seth’s shoulders as she began to bounce up and down on the boy. Seth couldn’t keep his hands off Karen’s fuck bags. Andrea was masturbating—despite being sore and despite obtaining a whore because she WAS sore—and yelled to the couple, “now don’t be using any rubba’s I needs me some grandchildren to spoil!” Andrea smiled at me, proud she remembered that tid-bit. All the while Karen, eee’d like a tiny schoolgirl forcing a garden-hose up her sweet pussy.

Then her eeee’s changed. They got deeper at first. Then they became gasps. Then they became grunts. In a fluid motion, Seth spun Karen onto her back and continued to take missionary style. The 36-year-old wrapped her almond legs around Seth’s hips and her arms around his back and pulled him into a very long, passionate, non-hookerish kiss. I watched with interests as the high schooler began to claw at his partner with what seemed to be more than lust. Finally, he pulled back slightly and clutched Karen’s hips before cumming into her.

“OH SETHY!” the Asian MILF yelled in a strangely familiar nasally accent before beginning to orgasm herself, “Your such a goooood boy!”

The distinguished lawyer’s knees had buckled as she came and she presently sat against the wall by the door kneading her creamy breasts. “I know he iz! He’s mommy’s bubie baby!” She murmured out to the fucking couple. Karen continued to lovingly suck face with her teenaged neighbor. This is when I went off to fix the emitters.

I made it back into Seth’s bedroom after the initial screams that followed the reset. Seth was now putting on some Korn while his mother and Karen Shoemaker were cuddled together on the floor passing a joint back and forth and giggling. When I walked back into the room Karen took notice of me.

“Hey mister man! You want a hit?” She leaned forward on her hands and knees offering up the roach. I appreciated her shiny, sweaty body and her almost innocent, joyful and expressive smile as she tried to share. Andrea was giggling lightly and lazily stroking the back of Karen’s calf. That was until a naked Seth walked up in front of his mother.

She smiled a goofy-high smile, and began to stroke his cock to erection. Her son then reached down and snatched the joint from Karen’s hand (I don’t mind, I wasn’t going to smoke it) and took a long hit. I, in turn, grabbed Karen’s wrist and pulled upright into an embrace. She just giggled some more and began to nuzzle against me. I needed to get her home and into her son’s bed.

“We gonna party?”

“Nah honey,” I say, “I got somebody who wants to see you…”

What a night.