The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When Suzanne was lying on her back with my cock filling her cunt, or kneeling in front of me sliding her lips up and down my hard shaft, she was always willing and eager. The girl was in love with my cock and would do everything she knew how to do to get it to yield its load of precious cum. When she was getting fucked, Suzanne was every bit the cock-craving slut.

But when she wasn’t, which was still most of the time, she was becoming increasingly unhappy. She tried to hide it from me, but it was obvious from the look in her eyes that she was no longer the giddily-in-love Montana girl that I’d been dating a month earlier. She wasn’t miserable, but she was definitely unhappy. I assumed that what was happening was that she was starting to worry about what she was becoming.

She’d had a very conservative upbringing in Montana, going to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday night. Despite the fact that she’d been asked out on plenty of dates in high school, she’d only kissed one boy before going away to college. In college, of course, she’d been exposed to the wider world, getting intimate with several guys, and having sex with two of them. Those experiences had helped her discover that sex could be a beautiful thing between two people who loved each other. She’d told me all of this at one time or another.

But at the core, I knew, she was still the naive little girl from Montana who’d been taught by her parents and her church that sex was essentially an evil act, one that good people only engaged in when it was absolutely necessary to create another human life. Enjoying sex was evil, she’d been taught, and women who enjoyed sex were trashy sluts.

Her enjoyment of the sex she’d had in college hadn’t caused her any distress, because she’d been in love with the two guys she’d had sex with. Similarly, the mind-blowing orgasms she’d experienced during our time together hasn’t been of any concern, because she’d been madly in love with me, and she’d thought I was in love with her.

But now, her love for me was starting to fade, and the sexual mores instilled in her by her upbriging were trying to reassert themselves. The love she’d felt for me before had made her feel secure about enjoying sex, but it was losing its power, and losing ground to the old taboos.

Of course, this was only her mood when she wasn’t primed for sex. When she was fired up and hot to trot, she was still the same fuck-hungry nympho she’d always been. And since she tried to hide it from me, I could plausibly pretend not to notice the change in her mood. So her increasing unhappiness was nothing to worry about.

But I noticed something else. Occasionally, I would catch her looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I would turn to look at her, and, just for an instant, catch sight of wary, suspicious look on her face. Her expression would always change to one of pleasant happiness as soon as turned my head, but slowly enough that I could catch a brief glimpse into her mind.

She was starting to become suspicious of me. I had introduced her to a whole world of pleasure she’d never know before, and she was starting to suspect I had some sort of ulterior motive.

We continued our nightly outings. Each time I either brought some clothing for her when I picked her up, or told her ahead of time what I wanted her to wear. She always complied. She never confronted me about the clothes I made her wear, or the tit-fucking, although I knew they bothered her.

I suppose she realized how stupid she would sound complaining about these things, when she obviously enjoyed wearing the clothes and having her tits fucked. Also, I’m sure she was worried that if she started an argument, I might leave her. Like I said, she was addicted to the sex. I planned to drive her to rebellion eventually—that would be necessary before the proper relationship could be established between us—but in the meantime, I was content to let things go on as they were.

At this point, Suzanne was behaving like a textbook nymphomaniac. All I had to do was slip her some aphrodisiac into a drink, and thirty minutes later, Suzanne was lying on the floor, eagerly taking my rock-hard cock into her wet pussy, or running her lips and tongue up and down my shaft. Her sexual skills, though not complete, were well-enough developed for the time being. I spent the next month, the third of our relationship, moving her in a new direction.

Up until now, whenever I wanted to fuck Suzanne, I had to arrange for her to drink something, so I could drug her, and then wait half an hour or so for her to get hot and beg me to do it to her. This had been fine for awhile; I’d even gotten quite a bit of enjoyment out of the challenge of arranging a drugging. But ultimately, the drug was a liablity.

For one thing, it was inconvenient, and occasionally frustrating. Several times I’d been dying to fuck her, and been unable to arrang a drugging. For another, if I kept this up long enough, the chances were good that Suzanne would notice me drugging her beverages. That wouldn’t completely ruin my plans, but it would force me to change them quite a bit. What I needed to do was bring Suzanne more fully under my control.

I started to do this one afternoon while we were enjoying a picnic in the park. We had just finished feeding a couple pieces of bread to the ducks in the pond. (I had arranged this, and many other “romantic” activities like it, in hopes of reigniting her fading love for me.) We had returned to our spread blankets and begun enjoying the lunch I’d packed in the basket that morning: sandwiches, chips, and bottled juice.

After finishing my first sandwich, I stood up and beckoned to Suzanne. She rose, confused. “What’s the matter, Alan?”

“Nothing, honey. Just come with me.” I took her arm and hurried up the hill toward a stand of trees and bushes.

“But where are we going?” she asked, confused.

I turned and smiled at her. “I have needs, too.”

“Oh...” Her voice trailed off. She was perplexed, and with good reason. This was the first time I’d led her away to get fucked that she hadn’t already been feeling horny. She’d had the drug, all right, but it hadn’t taken effect yet. Nonetheless, she followed me.

We went in among the trees, where we were well-hidden from outside view. Gently, I pushed her down to the ground and made her lie on her back. I spread her legs and knelt between them. She was getting quite nervous. Her mind wasn’t prepared to have sex in an undrugged state.

“Alan, I don’t think this is a good idea...” she protested.

“Why not, honey? What are we doing here that we haven’t done a dozen times before?” I asked.

“Well... I...” She took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. What she wanted to say, of course, was that this was all wrong, that she was the one who was supposed to tell me she “needed it,” not the other way around. Obviously, she realized how selfish this would sound, because she didn’t actually say it. “I don’t think I... I’m ready...” she protested feebly.

“Well,” I smiled, “you let me take care of that, honey.” With that, I lowered my mouth to her dry cunt. She nervously forced a smile and lay back on the ground, clenching her fists at her sides.

I flicked my tongue around her cunt, trying to arouse her. It was tough going. She was extremely tense, with all her worries about getting caught and going to hell for being a slut running loose in her mind. There was no way I could possible eat her into arousal.

Fortunately, I didn’t have too. The drug kicked in after a few minutes. The change was sudden and dramatic. Suzanne’s body relaxed, and she began to moan in pleasure as I cotinued to lick her slit. She put her hands on my head, pushing it into her crotch, bucking against my mouth. “Oh, God, that’s it, Alan, oh yessss...”

I probed my tongue experimentally into her pussy, driving her wild. I tasted the first gush of pussy juice as she began to respond to my attention.

“Please, Alan, I need you... I need you...”

I disengaged my mouth from her steamy cunt. Spreading her legs, I positioned myself over her. “Here I come, honey, here I come,” I told her as I shoved my cock deep into her sopping wet pussy.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned, “yes, yes, yes!” Through trial and error, she’d learned to use her cunt muscles to enhance my pleasure. As I fucked her, her pussy massaged my cock, sending waves of pleasure down my spine. Suzanne was an incredible fuck by now.

I soon shot my wad into her velvety cunt, which was still expertly squeezing my dick. The feel of my jism splashing into her cunt was enough to send her over the edge into an orgasm. She bucked and heaved, slamming her pelvis into me as my engorged dick shot my seed into her belly. I collapsed on top of her, spent, as she shrieked her way through her orgasm.

The key difference between our screw that day in the park and all our previous fucks was one of timing. Up until then, I’d always given Suzanne the drug, and then waited for her to tell me she was horny before fucking her. But this time, I had indicated to her that I was horny, and needed to fuck, before she had started getting horny herself. Soon afterward, though, the drug had kicked in and she’d felt the desire to screw. Her brain would associate the desire (as well as the orgasm) with my telling her that I needed to screw her. This would come in useful later on.

Over the next three weeks, I gradually reduced the number of episodes of the first kind, the ones that I allowed her to initiate, and phased in the second form, the ones that I started. Usually, I timed it so that things happened in some public area, such as a theater. We’d be sitting together watching a movie, or a concert, or whatever, when I would suddenly grab her arm and stand up, pulling her up with me. I’d lead her quickly out into the lobby and into whatever semi-private area I could find. In a matter of minutes, she’d be down on her knees, sucking my rock-hard dick like a three-dollar whore.

She had started to believe, deep inside, that simply putting a dick into her mouth would get her excited. And when the drug took effect a few minutes later, and started her pussy juices flowing, her brain took it as confirmation of this association. The Pavlov drug, in turn, helped the brain to rewire itself to reflect the new knowledge.

Sometimes I shot my load into her mouth. She would greedily swallow every last drop of jism while her body shuddered in orgasm. Sometimes I would pull away early, reposition her, and fuck her wet pussy. She seemed to especially enjoy taking it from behind. I would bend her over a table, or whatever surface was convenient, and she would lie on her stomach, bucking against me as I pounded into her sopping wet pussy. All the while, her well-trained cunt muscles would massage my dick until I came, which always got her really excited.

The best times, though, were the times when I came on her face. While she was sucking my cock, I would reach down and give her nipples a single firm squeeze. I’d developed this as the signal for tit-fucking. She would respond by letting my dick slide out of her mouth and readjusting her position so that her boobs were level with my stomach. Then she’d place my rock-hard cock between her tits and squeeze them tightly around it. Slowly at first, she would jack her entire body up and down, squeezing and kneading her tits as they moved up and down along my shaft. Every time my cock thrust into her face, she would give it a quick lick with her tongue.

The whole routine drove me wild. Watching Suzanne bob up and down on my shaft, her eyes closed in orgasmic pleasure, I had to struggle to keep myself from coming in the first ten seconds. She was one hot bitch.

Soon I would be able to hold back no longer, and my cock would start to throb with my imminent ejaculation. Suzanne could feel this, and when it happened her response was always the same. She would take my pulsating dick in her hand, point it at her face, close her eyes, and begin to jack furiously at it.

When my jism shot from my dick onto her pretty, upturned face, she would start to shudder. As my sticky white come covered her forehead, cheeks, nose and chin, she would try to wipe it up with her free hand and bring it to her mouth. By the time I finished shooting my load, she would be experiencing a full-on orgasm, swallowing as much of my cum as she could get into her mouth. She never got it all, though, and when she came down from her orgasm she would sit there, breathing heavily, her face and tits glistening with come.

And so, three weeks after that afternoon in the park, I dropped the Suzanne-initiated episodes altogether. From that point on, I fucked her whenever and wherever I wanted to, and she had no say in the matter.

Technically, the difference was trivial; it was only a matter of changing the amount of time between when I slipped her the aphrodisiac and when I unzipped my fly. But the association formed in her brain was very different. These new encounters would reinforce in her subconscious mind the notion that she should get hot whenever I indicated a desire to fuck her. And, as usual, the Pavlov drug was making her very receptive to these sorts of associations.

Initially, she was always hesitant to go into action, like she’d been that in the park. I would always have to calm her down and eat her out or finger her twat for awhile to get her to relax. And at first, even this had little effect; she would remain tense and fidgety until the aphrodisiac kicked in five or ten minutes later, at which point she dived eagerly into slut mode.

I got frustrated during a lot of these warmup periods. It was annoying to have to sit there and twiddle her clit for ten mintes when I knew damn well that the aphrodisiac would heat her up soon no matter what I did. But this was important. So I stuck with it, and persevered through the inconvenience.

Slowly, but steadily, Suzanne learned to relax and enjoy my attention, even before the aphrodisiac hit her. Once again, she was learning a lesson, that getting attention from me would lead eventually to an orgasm. Quite soon, she had reached the point where the mere touch of my hands or mouth on her cunt would send her right up. And a week after that, I only had to give the merest suggestion of wanting to fuck, and she’d be eager to go. This was exactly the effect I wanted. Of course, I still made sure she was flying on the aphrodisiac before I let her orgasm.

Once I felt that I had sufficiently established this principle in her, I moved on to the next step. First, I set aside the Pavlov drug for awhile. At this point, Suzanne was as well-trained as was really necesssary. Later, I would bring it back, but for now it would only get in the way. (Plus, the stuff was expensive.) Slowly, over a carefully planned period of six weeks, I began to lower the dosage of aphrodisiac I gave Suzanne before fucking her.

At first, her sexual enjoyment dropped off. This was the riskiest part of the whole procedure, and I really didn’t know exactly what would happen. Even though I had known it was coming, the sudden decrease worried me. I could tell that her orgasms were less intense. The air of general unhappiness that had surrounded her for the past couple months thickened.

I began to pay a little more attention to her needs than I had been. It was important not to lose her now. Surprisingly, the lessening intensity of her orgasms drove her to put more and more energy into fucking, as though she thought it was her fault that she wasn’t enjoying it as much, and she was trying to make up for it. I actually felt sorry for the poor girl, and even a bit guilty. Here I’d spent several months teaching her that sex was the most important thing in life, making it the end-all, be-all of her existence, and now I was pulling it away from her. And she thought it was her fault.

Fortunately, by the middle of the second week, Suzanne’s body began to compensate for the decrease in the aphrodisiac dosage, and her orgasms started creeping back up to their previous heights. According to all the literature I’d read, this was supposed to happen; the effect of the Pavlov drug was not confined to counscious actions and desires. Rather, it reached out to affect all aspects of bodily function. If you had a pin stuck into your toe repeatedly as you listened to Beethoven’s Fifth while on the drug, hearing “Da-da-da-daaaaah” in the future would cause you to feel a prickling pain in your toe. Not just wince your eyes in anticipation of pain, but actually feel real pain.

Of course, what works in one instance doesn’t always work in another. So I was visibly relieves when Suzanne’s body overcame the decrease in drug dosage and began to deliver inhumanly strong orgasms once again, as it had been taught. She was visibly happier; in fact, she was happier than she’d been since the first time my come had covered her face.

I kept to the planned program for the next month, fucking her at least once a day, gradually reducing the dosage of aphrodisiac to zero. Her sex drive remained rock steady for the rest of that period. I was frankly amazed at the ability of her body to compensate for the loss of the drug.

On the last day of the aphrodisiac phase-out, I phoned Suzanne and told her to be ready to go out for dinner at 6:30, wearing the red dress that I had given her on our second date.

I showed up right on time. She greeted me at the door with a kiss. “Hi, honey,” she said, bright and cheery. The moment of truth had arrived.

Without a word, I placed a hand on her shoulder and began to push gently downward. With barely a second’s hesitation, she sunk to her knees in front of me. Her fingers nimbly undid my pants and brought out my rapidly stiffening cock. She lovingly caressed it a few times, and then took it into her hot, wet, mouth.

Her head began to bob up and down on my shaft, taking long, deep strokes. At the top of each stroke, my cockhead would almost slip out of her mouth, and at the bottom, my pubic hair would tickle her nose. Suzanne had become very proficient at deep-throating after discovering that it was the best way to get a lot of come. Her tongue swished back and forth around my dick as she hungrily sucked on it, occasionally flicking out of her mouth between her lips and my cock. I placed my hands on her head and gently guided her up and down my shaft. A thin coating of her saliva glistened on my dick.

I mentally jumped for joy as I watched Suzanne giving me head. Throught the last week or so, as I’d continued to reduce the aphrodisiac dosage toward zero, I’d constantly worried about what would happen at the end. The decreasing size of the doses had not had any effect on her sex drive, but I’d wondered whether that final step might be fatal one. There’s a big difference between a tiny bit of drug in your system, and no drug at all. I was relieved that Suzanne could function just as well without the drug. Having to shoot her up before she got fucked each time would be a serious impediment to my plans for her.

A wad of jism spurted from the head of my cock. Suzanne began to pump faster, swirling her tongue around my shaft at ninety miles an hour. I released my load into her waiting mouth. She eagerly swallowed as much as she could, but several drops of come escaped from her mouth and trickled down her chin. Her eyes closed as a powerful orgasm shuddered through her body.

After half a minute, she got up and walked back into her bedroom. She emerged some time later with the come wiped from her chin, and her makeup reapplied. She gave me a long, deep kiss. I could smell my come on her breath.

We went to dinner at a five-star Japanese restaurant, where we ate in our own private room, with our own waiter. After the meal, I sent the waiter away. Rising from my chair, I walked over to stand in front of Suzanne. Bending over, I gave her a deep kiss as rubbed her nipple through the taut fabric. Her hand shot to my crotch and squeezed my rapidly stiffening dick. With nothing more than one simple gesture, I had turned the quiet, refined lady with whom I had eaten dinner into a cock-craving slut who would do anything to feel warm jism shoot into her body.

I lifted her up and sat her down on the edge of the table facing me. Knowing what was coming, she pulled her dress up to expose her cunt and lifted her legs to my shoulders. “Oh, God,” she moaned, “I need it, Alan. I need it bad.” I glanced down as I pulled out my rock-hard cock and saw that she was already wet. It had taken her fifteen seconds! “Alannnnn... I need iiiiit!” she pleaded.

This bitch always needed it. I positioned the head of my cock at the mouth of her cunt. “Here it comes, babe,” I told her, and slammed into her.

Suzanne gave a shriek of pleasure as I drove my meat into her hot pussy. I paused for a moment, just to listen to her moans. “Oh, yes, yes...” Then, overcome by the display in front of me, I began to piston my shaft in and out of her silky-smooth cunt. She responded, thrusting her hips at me with each stroke. Her well-toned cunt muscles writhed around my cock.

Still fucking her, I reached behind her and pushed the empty dishes out of the way. She allowed herself to be pushed back until she was lying flat on the table. I leaned forward and grasped one breast in each hand as I thrust my shaft in and out of her.

She was bucking at me like a bitch in heat, trying to take my cock as deep into her cunt as possible. She emitted a moan of disappointment as I pulled out of her pussy. I climbed onto the table and straddled her stomach. Like a well-trained animal responding to a familiar situation, she grabbed her tits and squeezed them around my cock.

I began to fuck her tits as she massaged them around my cock. She lapped at my cock each time it thrust through her cleavage into her face. I kept it slow at first because her skin was dry, but after a while the pussy juice on my cock combined with her saliva to lubricate her tits, and I began to fuck faster. She gasped and moaned as I slid my shaft up and down in the valley between her breasts. Thanks to the training with the Pavlov drug, she got off on this just as much as she got off on sucking cock or getting her cunt fucked.

I felt myself about to come. Lifting my body up off her chest, I positioned my cock over her face. Suzanne grasped it with one hand and began to jack up and down. When I came, she aimed the jism into her mouth, and my first spurt splashed across her parted lips and onto her tongue. She moved my dick for the next two wads of come, taking these on her cheeks and nose. She took the next one on the chin, and then placed my dick in her mouth and slurped down the rest, sending her into another orgasm.

As I finished my orgasm, I looked down at her face. The body that just four months ago belonged to a shy aspiring model from rural Montana who’d only slept with a man three times in her life now belonged to a finely tuned sex machine. With the slightest provocation, her calm, demure personality would drop away, and in its place would be a well-trained living fuck doll.

I used my newly drug-free whore twice more that night. The first time was on the way home, when we got stuck in a trafic jam. I was getting angry at the delay, because I’d been in a hurry to get home and fuck Suzanne again.

Suddenly, I realized how stupid I was being. I’d been assuming that I would have to get home and get the aphrodisiac into her system before I could fuck her. But I was missing the obvious: I didn’t need the drug to get her hot anymore. I could make use of her body whenever I felt like it. I kicked myself as I began to unzip my fly. Suzanne looked over at me, saw what I was doing, and immediately leaned over to finish the job. She freed my cock from the confines of my pants, and immediately went to work. Five minutes later, I shot my jism down the throat of a very contened little slut.

When we got back to her apartment, I immediately fucked her again on her dining room table. No preamble; I just lifted her onto the table. She immediately lay back and pulled up her dress. I came hard in her, and she climaxed every bit as forcefully as she had when she’d sucked my cock in the same room four hours earlier.

I spent the next two months playing with my new toy. I cherished the freedom I had to fuck her whenever and wherever I wanted to, without having to get her to drink something first.

Once we happened to be alone in a subway car and I was feeling horny. As soon as the train pulled away from the station, I pushed her onto one of the seats. Without hesiataion, she lifted her skirt. I fucked her hard for the next two minutes, and we both came just as the train pulled into the next station. A couple of teenage boys saw us and stared as we cruised past them. I stood up and zipped up my pants as Suzanne pushed her skirt down and brushed it smooth. We passed the snckering teenagers as we left the station. Suzanne, in a post-fuck reverie, was oblivious, but I threw them a wink.

Another time, I felt myself getting an erection in a bar, so I took Suzanne into a phone booth and had her suck me off. She complied with pleasure, leaving some of her pussy juice behind on the floor of the booth.

Suzanne wasn’t any less enthusiastic as a result of her constant use. When she wasn’t in sex-toy mode, though, she was becoming more and more morose. I couldn’t get her to talk about it. I’m sure that part of her mind was becoming increasingly alarmed at the growing casuality with which I fucked her, and that part was desperate to leave me.

But the stronger part of her mind was addicted to the sex, and couldn’t even consider the thought of giving it up. Thanks to the training I’d given her, the weakest of the four orgasms she had in an average day was far stronger than the most powerful orgasm any other woman could expect to experience in an entire lifetime. Women have become addicted to sex far less powerful than what I was giving Suzanne.

How did I manage to come in her (or on her) four times a day? I’m not really sure; I certainly wouldn’t have expected myself to be capable of it before I started doing it to Suzanne. My theory is than any other man who had a hot pussy and a skilled mouth available twenty-four hours a day would find it difficult not to make use of them at least four times a day. When I was feeling really horny, I could do her six or seven times in one day.

She never complained to me about whatever it was that was bothering her, and she let me dictate almost every detail of her life. I moved into her apartment. I didn’t even discuss it with her; I just showed up with a suitcase one evening and told her that I’d be living with her from now on, and I’d need someplace to put my clothes. She didn’t raise a finger in protest; she just obediently walked back into her bedroom and made space for me in the dresser and closet.

She continued to allow me to determine her wardrobe. I took this to even greater extremes than I had previously. When we went someplace elegant, like a play or society ball, I would have her dress in something elegant, but bordering on trashy, like the red dress I’d gotten her for our second date.

When we went someplace casual, though, I would usually dress her almost like a hooker. One of the outfits I liked consisted of a white fishnet bodysuit that covered her toso, leaving her breasts and nipples visible through the mesh; a short black denim skirt; and a white denim jacket that was cut in such a way as to be impossible to close, but which would just barely conceal her nipples. The gap between her tits was openly displayed, and anoyone who cared to watch closely enough could usually get a glimpse of nipple. I bought several of each component of this suit in different colors, so that she could go in black or red or whatever combination of colors I felt like.

Another classic was her “candy” outfit. This consisted of a halter top with horizontal black and white stripes and a black-and-red pleated skirt. On her feet she wore red-and-white-striped socks and red spiked heels. The outfit was completed by a pair of white kids gloves with red polka dots, a black bow in her hair, and a pair of red plastic hoop earrings with white spots. This outfit was the least slutty of her “casual” ensembles, but it still got the attention of plenty of people, particularly older men, who were no doubt drawn by the almost childlike, yet extremely sexy look of it.

But my favorite outfit was what I thought of as the full-on slut ensemble. This was a black halter top with an obscenely low neckline; a shiny red leather skirt, cut extremely short, just barely covering her ass and hugging her legs tight; and a pair of shiny black leather boots with six-inch stiletto heels that coevered her legs up above her knees. Again, this outfit could be done in several color combinations, but black/red was my favorite.

Sometimes I included fishnet stockings with these outfits; sometimes I just let her legs go bare. I always included high heels. (By this time, she had become so attached to high heels that she would probably be a nervous wreck without them. Aside from that, the tendons on the backs of her ankles had contracted from never being stressed, and it would have been extremely painful for her to stand, let alone walk, flat-footed.)

I kept her hair long enough to reach her nipples. Each time we went out, I would tell her how to wear it. When we were going someplace “elegant,” it would either be pinned up against her head in typical ballroom style, or conditioned into soft, gentle waves that cascaded over her shoulders. When she was dressing slutty, though, I had her use one of a large variety of styles—sometimes straight down her back, sometimes in curls or crimped, almost always teased out to maximum volume.

And of course, a wide selection of earrings, bracelets, necklaces, chokers, and anklets was available. These were used tastefully with the elegant outfits (a simple gold or pearl necklace and a bracelet or two on one writst), and liberally with the slutty ones (an overlong faux-pearl necklace dangling down to her navel, and at least two or three gaudy bracelets on each arm).

In order to make space for the new clothes I was buying her, I threw out all of the clothes she had had before I met her. None of them were really useful for her new role. I was surprised, though, to find some rather flashy lingerie in her underwear drawer. Although I had told her that she was never to wear underwear again, I decided to hang on to the lingerie. It might come in handy sometime.

I still took Suzanne to movies and plays and things like that, but I tended to prefer doing things that would let her be seen in public as much as possible. To that end, we often walked around in malls and parks, took shopping trips into downtown, and went to bars and nightclubs to hang out. I would parade around in public with this gorgeous, sluttily-dressed woman on my arm, the envy of every man in sight.

The best time I had during this period happened one evening at a park. Suzanne was fully decked out in halter-top, ass-revealing red leather skirt, and knee-high black leather “fuck me” boots. We had been walking around the park for about an hour. Every once in awhile I would dart my hand up under her skirt and give her clit a few soft strokes, and then pull back and resume walking. Over time, as I continued this, she became more and more horny and frustrated. I was curious to see just how much she could stand.

Eventually, she took action. As we walked around a bend in the path in the middle of a small stand of trees, she whirled around in front of me and dropped to a crouching position in front of my crotch. With a speed I hadn’t thought possible, she whipped my dick out and wrapped her lips around it.

Her tongue whipped back and forth around my cock as her head plunged furiously up and down. I leaned against a tree, savoring the sweet sensations of Suzanne’s mouth around my prick. The teasing had gotten her quite excited.

My shaft rapidly grew hard. I pushed my whore’s head away from my crotch. She immediately turned around and dropped to her hands and knees, holding her ass high, presenting her dripping pussy to me. “Give it to me, Alan, give it to me!” she begged. I slammed my meat hard into her fuck-tunnel.

I fucked my hot little slut at a furious pace, plunging my thick, hard shaft in and out of her tight, silky cunt. Suzanne bucked hungrily against me, moaning in pleasure each time I thrust into her. She was oblivious to the fact that we were in a public place, oblivious to everything except the cock filling her up, giving her so much pleasure.

Drawn by Suzanne’s cries, a crowd had started to gather, watching interestedly as I screwed Suzanne. The women were scornful, the men envious. But nobody could leave.

As I approached orgasm, Suzanne disengaged her cunt from my cock and turned around to face me. Without a word, she grasped my cock in her hands and jacked it furiously at her face. I exploded in orgasm, and massive streams of ropy come shot from my prick to splash across Suzanne’s face and chest. She eagerly sucked down what she could, and used her fingers to gather up the rest and put it in her mouth. Her eyes closed and her body shook as she orgasmed from the taste of my jism, collapsing to the ground in ecstasy.

The crowd watched, awestruck at the sight of the cock-craving slut taking her man’s spunk on her face and gobbling it down. I paid them no attention as my orgasm wound down, my last few spurts of come landing on Suzanne’s sleek legs. She lay on the ground, shaking as her orgasm rumbled through her body. I stood over her, exhausted, slowly replacing my cock in my pants and zipping up my fly.

When at last she came down from her orgasm, Suzanne sat up quickly and looked around, realizing for the first time the crowd that had gathered. Her embarassment caused her to recover from the aphrodisiac quickly. She stood up, blushing in humiliation, and quickly smoothed her skirt down to cover her soaked pussy. Her face and tits were still shiny with my come. A thin strand of pussy juice dripped from the opening in her skirt down to the ground. Walking slowly, taking my time, I led her away from the crowd, back to the car. “What a slut,” somebody exclaimed behind us. Suzanne gripped my arm tighter, her cheeks burning in humiliation.

Suzanne’s attitude when she wasn’t primed for sex remained constant throughout this whole period—a sort of resigned indifference. She didn’t enjoy looking and acting like a slut, but if that’s what I wanted, she was willing to do it to keep the sex coming. She was remarkably cooperative, always doing things immediately and correctly the first time. I never had to raise my voice to her. She had come to believe that the situation between us was stable. I got to do almost whatever I wanted with her body, including occasionally humiliating her in public, and if she acted cheerful about it, she got to experience mind-blowing orgasms. She seemed content to live the rest of her life that way.

Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t going to be that easy.