The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Union Rules

By: Chrystal Wynd

Gwendolyn heard hammers pounding stakes and she smiled.

That sound meant the construction crew was beginning to build her pool deck. Soon she would have an Olympic-sized pool and a beautiful pool house in her back yard. The twenty-six year old woman pictured her neighbors looking on in envy, and the thought made her smile more. Her Masters degree in finance was certainly paying nicely.

She knew she would likely have construction guys looking through her windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the hot chick inside. She smirked to herself. Let ‘em look. She was dressed casually in denim shorts, a crop top and a sweet pair of sandals that probably cost more than any of them made in a week.

Bored, she picked up her coffee cup and walked to the back window. Glancing out, she watched the crew she had hired do her bidding. Something was bothering her and, after a minute, she realized what it was. She slammed down her coffee cup.

Gwendolyn strode up to the man who appeared to be in charge. “Excuse me,” she said, “but what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The foreman looked at Gwendolyn and sighed. He pushed his yellow hard hat back on his head and moved his cigar to the other side of his mouth.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” he said.

“Yes, there’s a problem,” said Gwendolyn, fanning smoke away from her face. “One, your stakes are too close to the house. They should be further out. Two, you have the deep end marked on the wrong side, and three, I will thank you not to smoke that smelly cigar on my property.”

The foreman pulled the cigar from his mouth and looked at it. “But we’re outside,” he said.

“Yes,” said Gwendolyn, “but we’re on my property.”

The foreman sighed, but crushed out the lit tip of the cigar. He gave the stogie a final mournful look, then slid it into a tube and slipped the tube into his pocket. Then he stepped over to a pile of lumber. On top of the lumber was an unrolled blueprint, which was weighted down with rocks. The foreman studied the blueprint for several moments, then shook his head.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said the foreman, “but, according to the plans, the stakes are exactly right.”

Gwendolyn jammed her fists onto her hips. “Well, your plans are wrong, then.”

The foreman gestured towards the blueprint. “I have to go by what the blueprint says, ma’am. Union rules.”

“You do,” said Gwendolyn, “and I’ll sue your company for every penny.”

The foreman sighed and took out a cell phone. He hit a button, then waited. Several seconds later, he said, “Peter? Yeah, it’s Harry. No, haven’t started yet. The customer says the plans are wrong. Yeah, I know. You will? Alright.”

Harry turned back to Gwendolyn. “The company owner is coming out here personally to see to your problem, Mrs...ah...?”

Gwendolyn flipped well-manicured nails toward Harry. “It’s ‘Miss’ and it’s Chambliss,” she said.

Fifteen minutes later, a black Lexus parked in front. The occupant exited the vehicle and made his way to the back of the house. His silk shirt and slacks appeared to be expensive, but he moved among the dusty piles of boards and drywall as if he didn’t care. His dark hair was perfectly styled, although his slight five o’clock shadow gave him a roguish edge.

“Gwendolyn? I’m Peter. What seems to be the problem?” he said.

Gwendolyn crossed her thin arms over her chest. The man’s easy charm irritated her. “It’s Miss Chambliss. And these plans are wrong,” she said.

“You don’t say,” said Peter. “Are you sure? You okayed them with the architect when he presented them to you last week, just before we applied for the permits.”

“That was last week,” said Gwendolyn. “I’m sure I told him to change them.”

“I spoke with Eddie on the way here, Gwen,” said Peter, “and he assures me you did not ask for any changes.” Peter’s gaze rested on Gwendolyn’s eyes.

Gwendolyn shifted slightly. She was feeling warm. “It’s Gwendolyn. And I’m sure I did. The pool is too close to the house, and the deep end is on the wrong side.”

Peter took a tape measure from Harry and made some measurements. Then he checked the plans as Harry and the other three members of the crew watched in silence. Finally, Peter looked at Gwendolyn once more.

“The measurements are all accurate, Gwenny,” said Peter. “There’s nothing wrong here.”

Gwendolyn huffed. The arrogant ass! “It’s Gwen. And I don’t care what your stupid tape measure says! It’s still wrong.”

“Ah, female capriciousness. I quite understand, Slut. Changing plans now would be quite expensive to me, however,” said Peter. His intense gaze probed her.

Gwendolyn wriggled as her nipples hardened. She felt her cheeks flush. “It’s Gwenny. And I don’t...I don’t care.”

Peter nodded knowingly. “Of course, Fuckslut. But isn’t there something you’d rather do than cause my crew this trouble?” he said.

Gwendolyn’s eyes flickered. Then her gaze settled on Peter’s crotch. “I...I could...I mean...I should...I...”

“I think I see the problem,” said Peter. “You need cock. You need cock in the worst way, but you don’t know how to ask for it, do you? So you overcompensate by being a bitch.”

Gwendolyn felt flustered. Her heart was pounding. “I...I just...I mean...”

Peter nodded. “You’re just a horny slut. That’s fine. My boys here are the forgiving type. Heck, maybe they’ll even do you just to show you there’s no resentment.”

Gwendolyn’s breathing was shallow. She tried to draw her eyes away from Peter’s crotch. “I’m not a horny slut!” she said.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Really, Fuckslut? So you’re fine if I do this…?” he said, unzipping his pants and drawing out his cock.

Gwendolyn’s eyes widened at the sight of that cock. Her blood surged and she felt the heat radiating from her cheeks. She couldn’t understand what was happening to her. She resented the man’s easy charm, his way of speaking that made her feel stupid, his casual dismissal of her complaints. He represented everything she hated, but that cock...the sight of that cock was making her belly muscles jump. Her sex was becoming slick with need. Her hips wriggled in suppressed heat.

“Go ahead, Fuckslut,” said Peter. “I know you need it, and I’m not a prissy bitch with a stick up my ass. I don’t mind helping someone. So go ahead…suck on it if it will make you feel better.”

Gwendolyn mewled with need. What she felt didn’t matter. What did matter was just how much she needed to have that cock in her. Anywhere. Just as long as it was inside her somewhere.

Peter smirked and hefted his cock in his hand. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

With a cry of heated need, Gwendolyn dropped to her knees in front of Peter. She grabbed his hips and slid her mouth over his cock. She moaned as she felt that cock hardening in her mouth.

Peter smirked and stroked his hand over Gwendolyn’s dark hair. “That’s a good little slut,” he said.

“Mmmmppphhhh!” said Gwendolyn, her mouth full of hard cock.

“I know, Fuckslut,” said Peter. “Just keep sucking.”

And, helpless to her need, Gwendolyn did. She tightened her lips around that cock and began to slide her wet mouth up and down his thick shaft. In her desperate need, she realized his shaft was sliding into her throat and her lips were wrapped around the base of his cock, and she moaned and wriggled.

Peter’s hips were beginning to buck. “Yeah, Fuckslut. That’s it, sweetie. You’re a hot little cocksucker, aren’t you?”

Gwendolyn moaned, her body shuddering at the derogatory references. Embarrassingly, her heat was growing as his cock hardened even more. She knew he was getting close, and her belly muscles twitched and jumped at the thought.

Peter’s fingers slid into Gwendolyn’s hair. “Yessss...here it comes...yesssssss...!”

Gwendolyn’s eyes widened as her mouth began filling with hot cum. Helpless, she swallowed the flowing seed as his cock continued to stroke into her mouth. The hot cum began to fill her belly and the sensations triggered her own release. Moaning and shuddering, the thin, dark-haired girl wriggled, her wet mouth still tight around his cock.

Finally, Peter drew his cock from Gwendolyn’s mouth. She was panting and her breasts swelled with each breath. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she realized she had just given a blowjob and swallowed a mouthful of semen in front of an audience. Despite her orgasm moments ago, however, she was wriggling in obvious need.

“Not bad, Fuckslut,” said Peter, “but you still need more, don’t you?”

Mewling with need, Gwen closed her eyes in embarrassment. Finally, eyes on the ground, she nodded.

“I thought so,” said Peter. “Stand up and strip.”

Gwen jumped to her feet. Her expensive sandals were the first things taken off her body. The rest of her clothing quickly followed and soon she was standing naked in her back yard.

Peter nodded in approval. “Alright, yes, you have a nice body,” he said, “but you were rude to my men. You need to be punished, don’t you?”

Gwen’s heart jumped. Punished? Her? But she needed the cock bad. She hung her head in shame, then nodded.

Peter nodded as well. “Yes, you do. Alright then...bend over the drywall pile.”

Gwen blinked in confusion, but walked over to the waist-high pile of drywall. She leaned over the pile, her breasts flattening against the surface.

“Good,” said Peter. “Now, lift your ass.”

Gwen shifted slightly, arching her back. Her rounded bare ass lifted invitingly.

“Here, Harry,” said Peter. “She was rude to you, so you get to do it.”

Gwen didn’t know what they were talking about until she felt the flat surface of a plank land sharply on her ass. She gasped and let out a barely stifled cry.

Then Peter was standing directly in front of her, his fingers laced into her hair once more. “Be a good slut. You know you deserve this.”

And, because she needed the cock, she closed her eyes and lifted her ass again.

She gasped as the plank landed on her shapely ass again. By the fifth swat, she was squealing. By the time Harry had swatted her ass fifteen times with the plank, she was wriggling and pleading. After the twentieth swat to her heated, reddened ass, Gwen cried out promises to be a good slut, a really good slut, the best slut ever.

“Oh?” said Peter. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! OhgawdohgawdyesyesyesIswear!” said Gwen. She swallowed a squeal as the plank landed once more on her tender ass.

Peter held up a restraining hand, and Harry stepped back.

Gwen wriggled helplessly, her ass cheeks burning beyond anything she had ever experienced. Her cheeks were wet with tears and red from pain and embarrassment. The heat from her ass, however, matched the heat in her belly muscles. She was embarrassingly aroused.

“Alright, Fuckslut,” said Peter, “you accepted your punishment like a good little slut, so you get your reward. Go ahead, Harry.”

Gwen couldn’t see behind her, and she dared not turn around. Then she gasped as she felt big hands on her bare hips. Her eyes widened as a thick cock suddenly pressed inside her from behind. She yelped when Harry’s belly pressed against her burning ass, but somehow that just intensified her pleasure. She parted her thighs further to give the big man behind her more room, and her hips began to buck instinctively.

Gwen shuddered as Harry continued to stroke his furiously hard cock into her. Gwen knew she was being pounded silly in front of an audience, but she couldn’t help wriggling and moaning like a slut. She put a knuckle between her teeth, trying to mute her squeals, but then Harry pulled her hips back and held her in place, her sore ass pressed firmly against his lower belly. She heard him let out a growl, and then her eyes widened as she realized he was filling her with hot seed. Those sensations triggered her own release and she wriggled helplessly as she orgasmed once more.

She gasped when Harry pulled out. She remained bent over the plywood, still catching her breath. Suddenly, she realized her hips were still wiggling unconsciously. Her cheeks reddened as she realized she was still helplessly aroused. She started to stand up, not wanting anyone to see what a horny slut she was, but Peter’s hand on the back of her head prevented her from doing so.

“No,” said Peter. “You’re not done yet, are you?”

Gwen tried to protest, to say she had done enough, when she felt her heat growing again. Her eyes widened, and she knew she needed more cock. She bit her lower lip, hoping no one could see her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“That’s what I thought,” said Peter. Peter paused for a moment, then said, “Tyrone, I think it’s your turn. I think Fuckslut here is curious to see if it’s true what they say about black men.”

She couldn’t see him, but Gwen heard Tyrone say, “Yessir. My pleasure, sir.”

This couldn’t be happening. She was not about to let a black man screw her on her back porch in front of her neighbors and the entire world. No way!

But then his hands were holding her rounded hips and her heart was jackhammering. She was suddenly breathless as his cock slid inside her from behind. Tyrone’s cock wasn’t as thick as Harry’s had been, but it was longer, and it was hitting places inside her that she hadn’t known she had. Helplessly aroused and hot, Gwen was again wriggling and bucking, desperately slapping her reddened ass back against Tyrone’s lower belly. She instinctively knew she couldn’t orgasm until Tyrone did, and her every movement was then geared toward giving the black man every possible pleasure so that he would cum. Gwen was helpless in the face of her need, and she knew she’d do this even if every neighbor on the block was standing in her yard watching.

And then, horribly, Tyrone stopped.

“Oh! Omigod!” squealed Gwen. “Don’t stop! Please! Don’t stop!”

“This isn’t working,” said Tyrone, “but I know what I need.”

“Oh! Omigod! Anything!” said Gwen. “I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Excellent,” said Tyrone. “In that case, I’m going to stick my cock in your ass.”

Without pause, Gwen stood on her toes, her ass raising high. “Fine, fine! Do it! Take my ass!” she squealed, despite the fact that she had never been done there in her life. She glanced up at Peter, and saw him nodding permission to Tyrone.

Gwen felt Tyrone slide out of her and she felt dreadfully empty. Then she felt the unusual sensation of pressure against her tight rear opening. Gwen tried to control her heated squirming.

Gwen gasped as her rear opening relaxed unexpectedly and her tight back passage was suddenly full of cock. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she kept her eyes down, unable to look at anybody. Tyrone gave her several moments to get used to the sensations, but, her ass tight around his cock, he was unable to stay still for long. Soon his cock was sliding back and forth. Only a little at first, but soon deeper and deeper, until finally he was stroking back and forth fully inside her ass.

Incredibly, Gwen could feel her heat building even more, but she was still unable to orgasm. Then she felt her ass slapping against Tyrone’s lower belly, felt his cock swelling and hardening even more in her tight back passage, and she knew it wouldn’t be long.

At last, Tyrone stiffened and buried his cock fully inside Gwen’s ass. He held her hips in position as he began to fill her ass with his cum. Gwen felt her ass filling and her eyes widened as she began to feel a mind-numbing sweep of pleasure throughout her body. She moaned and wriggled, unable to control her body as she squirmed on Tyrone’s cock in wanton heat. Her squeals of pleasure merged briefly with Tyrone’s grunts and growls, and continued even after Tyrone had finished.

Gwen twitched as Tyrone slid his cock from her abused ass. Breathless, she made no effort to stand yet. She had never felt so full of cum in her life. And she still had no idea what Peter had done to her.

She gasped as she felt a casual slap on her ass. She stood up and turned around. It wasn’t Tyrone who had slapped her burning ass, however. It was Peter.

“Alright, Fuckslut,” said Peter. He was looking at his watch. “You’ve done well. The boys are going to get started on your pool now, and I’ve got a meeting. Why don’t you go shower and get cleaned up?”

Body blushing, hair dusty, Gwen nodded.

“Just be back out here for the one-thirty break, understand?” said Peter.

“What?!? Why?!? Didn’t I, um, apologize already?” asked Gwen.

“Union rules,” explained Peter. “Everybody gets treated equally. And you haven’t apologized to Jose or Christine yet.”

Gwen wasn’t sure he was telling her the truth and opened her mouth to protest. But then her belly muscles began twitching again and she suddenly knew the heated twitching wouldn’t stop until everybody was apologized to. She blushed and pressed her knees together.

“Right,” she said. “Union rules.”

END