The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

But I Don’t Really Want This, Chapter 33

She needed this so bad. He was lying on the bed, looking at her and her chest. Smiling. Hard. She smiled too, giddy, at what was finally about to happen. She climbed on the bed to straddle him, watching his eyes as he watched her breasts as they swung heavily underneath her. His smile grew wider. A laugh. She laughed back.

She took his hand, bringing it close to her breast, encouraging him to feel and squeeze. He complied and she groaned, closing her eyes. The pleasure hadn’t come from his hand or her breasts. There was still numbness—the doctor expected it to dissipate over a couple of months. It had been the expectation that had elicited the groan. An expectation that had started growing ever since she had first allowed herself to imagine herself as she was now. Had grown further every time she imagined Will’s reaction. After the surgery it had continued to grow, Will’s clear enjoyment of the sight of her new chest, this large mass sitting right in front of her, so visible. And now finally the moment where he would take her, them.

She took his second hand and encouraged it to do the same. Her pussy almost ached with need, but just enjoy this moment a bit more. The first time. Mmmm, she opened her eyes and looked down at him, smiling for him, smiling with pride at herself at what she had done for him. She hoped he didn’t mind the scars, still fresh and red. For a second she felt like she wanted to cover herself up.

‘They’re fucking glorious,’ he said.

She laughed. The right thing to say at the right time. She felt much better.

She raised herself and took his cock in her hand, positioning it at her entrance, then slowly settling down onto it. No moving yet, enjoy this a bit more first.

Suddenly, Will was tensing. He closed his eyes and took his hands quickly from her breasts and grabbed the sheets at his sides, trying to control himself. She held her breath, she didn’t dare move.

He opened his eyes, relief, he exhaled deeply, saying ‘that was close’ with his eyes. Nicole giggled and bent over to hold him close, letting her hair rub against his face, kissing him, feeling her breasts rest on his chest. She laughed, with him as opposed to at him. Sympathetically. Wow, she’d never had that effect on him before! He chuckled too, holding her hips, then moving his hands to her waist.

She enjoyed the feeling, then kissed him deeply and slowly sat back up. ‘You stay still, let me do this, but tell me if I should slow down,’ she said, sincere affection and sympathy for him dripping from every syllable. He nodded, he was ready now she could see. Interesting, she thought to herself, could I now have this power over him? I didn’t realise. But I’ll be good to him.

She slowly lifted herself up and down, about two inches at first, or what she imagined was two inches. He nodded to her. She repeated the motion a few times, waiting some seconds between each rep, to make sure he was ready. She was so wet! Three inches. Again, slowly, a gap between reps. He groaned, and nodded, that’s good. Now more, his eyes on her tits, his hands on her thighs.

‘Ready?’ she asked, and he broke eye contact with her larger areoles to tell her he was ready. Less slowly now. She groaned, she wanted more, faster. He looked good, in control of himself, enjoying it. And he’s so sexy. Time to go hard, she told herself, screw incrementalism, my heart wants to make love, but my pussy wants to fuck. All out. Ride him, bounce on that dick and..., oh my god, something was wrong! She supported herself on the bed with her hands. His still erect cock had fallen out.

She knew what had happened. So did he. Surprise on his face changed to a grin. She felt his cock jump beneath her as it twitched with excitement. She had only felt it, eye’s closed, but he had watched it happen. The momentum of her bouncing had been transferred through her heavier breasts. She hadn’t been prepared for it. Each had traced a symmetric path, upwards, against each other, then downwards, away from each other. High and firm and round and synthetic her breasts might be, but they still moved and swung and bounced. She recognised the motion. It wasn’t new, even before her first surgery she was used to it. But they were so much heavier now, and they had thrown her off her rhythm. Still, it wouldn’t take long to get used to it, in a few weeks she was sure she would even have forgotten that it was a problem.

He chuckled, running his hand though her hair, which hung down over her head onto his chest. She looked up, laughing. He laughed some more, real belly laughs, and she pressed her face down against his chest, holding him and feeling his laughter through his body. She loved how much deeper he sounded like this.

She raised herself again and got his cock ready beneath her. ‘I want to see that again,’ he said to her, and she nodded. The first two bounces were exploratory, but by the third she was ready and went all out. It happened again. He laughed some more. It was still funny. She laughed too. He stuck his hand out to the bedside table and clumsily picked up her phone. He moved his finger around on the screen a few times and the light came on, indicating he was recording her.

She was unsure now, no longer laughing, or smiling. He looked past the phone at her, still smiling broadly. ‘Relearning how to bounce on dick with huge titties, take one,’ he said. She instinctively brought her hands up to cover herself, before stopping herself. ‘Go for it,’ he ordered.

She didn’t take so long to reach full speed this time, that seemed to have been the implied. She immediately brought her hands up to hold and control her breasts. It was working, but after a few reps, he ordered her to remove her hands, and she lost the rhythm again and had to stop. Next time she tried a bit slower. Once she was used to that, she slipped up to top gear, but had to stop a moment later, panting. Unused to the control required to hold herself in that position. Weird, I thought I had excellent core.

‘When you’re ready,’ he said, still grinning, still enjoying it. She had already figured out by now that a lot of laughter was at her, not with her, but he confirmed this now; ‘you gave yourself tits so big and slutty, you forgot how to fuck?’ he asked, for the camera.

‘Oui’ she said meekly, downcast, acting like a child who knows they made a mistake. Feeling small, pathetic. This always made her feel hotter.

On the next go-round, she managed to maintain herself a bit longer, her arms out slightly to her side to maintain balance. ‘Arms up,’ he ordered, ‘hands holding your hair,’ thus raising her centre of gravity, reducing her balance even further than it had been originally. She lost the rhythm again. Her boobs were really bouncing. She’d have to look at that video soon, see what he was seeing.

‘Say it,’ he said, ‘you forgot how to fuck, didn’t you?’


‘Why? How?’

She decided to try something new, to make her feel more girly, to fit the role, she raised the pitch of her voice, ‘I get myself titties that are too big and slutty,’ she said downcast, hmm, he liked that she could tell, but it needs more work, it wasn’t natural. But the past tense work around made it adorable!

‘I didn’t, I don’t mean to! It’s an accident’ she added as he was about to say something, like a child hoping a lack of intent would reduce the sentence. Mmm, he was loving this.

‘What do you mean? You didn’t mean to get big, slutty titties?’ A parent, or intellectual superior deliberately latching onto the ambiguity, using it against her, forcing her to back-pedal.

‘No! I want big, slutty titties so much, but I don’t want to forget how to fuck. That’s an accident! I’m sooorrrrry!’ she almost wailed, her hands still above her head, him still recording.

He ordered her to try again. This time, after the first few bounces, he started thrusting too, throwing her off again. ‘That’s not fair!’ Her voice was getting sore, she wasn’t used to this.

‘Not fair? Did you forget to fuck or did I?’

‘I do,’ submission in her voice letting him know that she understands she can’t use words to get out of this, that he will defeat any argument that she comes up with. ‘I forget how to fuck.’

He put the phone down. ‘Don’t worry dumdum,’ he said. She sighed sadly avoiding eye contact, in a manner agreeing, yes, I’m dumdum. Very nice, she thought, a perfect name to use. ‘You’ll learn again in no time. Plus, while you’re learning, I’m still going to be fucking you properly, I didn’t forget anything dumdum.’

‘Yeaahhhh!’ she smiled, bending forward to hug him, her voice breaking. ‘Reallllyyyy?’ she attempted to draw the word out, but her voice broke again. She wasn’t used to this kind of vocal exercise. She would have to stop soon.

‘Of course, Princess.’ She giggled. ‘You’ll be lying back on the kitchen table and I’ll be thrusting in and out. You’re going to be so wet, we’re going to have to put down a towel first.’ She giggled. ‘And I’ll just be watching your tits jiggle and bounce around on your chest as I thrust in and out. And you are going to be so loud, because you will love it.’


‘Maybe I’ll order you to use words instead of just allowing you to groan, and you’ll have to tell me how much you want it.’ Woah, he’d have to remember that one. Maybe forced vocalisation of what she was thinking, what she wanted him to do for her, as he was doing it, could get her to reveal another level of her fantasies? Later though. Don’t use all the good ideas at once or there would be nothing for later.

He told her to get on her hands and knees above him, her knees at his hips, her hands at his shoulders. She felt her tits sway and smiled at him as she looked at them. He attempted to move her hair out of the way to get a better view and she swept all the hair falling over her right shoulder to the left shoulder. He patted one of her breasts and watched them jiggle against each other. She giggled and she watched too as he did it again. Oh my God, they look enormous like this!

He laughed warmly, sway slowly at the shoulders he ordered, let them swing. She could feel the movement transfer across her chest. They both looked and then looked at each other and laughed together.

‘Every time we are together,’ he held each breast in each hand, pushing them up against her, then letting them fall back, ‘I’m just going to be looking at these, thinking about fucking you, cumming in you, or on you.’

‘Yeah? Do you promise?’ she grinned. Give me more, make it hotter, make me burn up inside for you.

‘Oh yeah, listen, and you won’t be able to do anything about it. I’ll just be looking at them and thinking, God, those are some big fucking boobs. She giggled, she had stopped doing the high pitch thing, she couldn’t anymore. Besides, laughing felt less natural when she tried to catch them and transform their pitch.

‘I’ll tell you a secret,’ he continued. ‘Some of the time I won’t even be listening to you, I’ll just be thinking about your tits.’ She giggled and tried to hide her face, turning it towards her hair. Oh my God, that was so wrong! But she felt so sexy. It was impossible for her to hide how much she liked it. More please!

She made some ‘uh, uh’ noises, and mimed the motion of sex, as she supported herself above him on all fours, as if he was thrusting from behind. She hadn’t been allowed to cum since yesterday morning. This was fun and hot, but she had been expecting to cum, like, 20 minutes ago or something. She was burning up.

‘You want that though, don’t you? You fucking can’t wait for me to direct my attention to your tits. right?’

‘Uhhh, yeah, please.’ His body was right there below her. She wanted to fall on him and rub herself against him, in everyway possible. The mental element, the way Will directed it, conducted her, it just made her want to melt out of her pussy.

‘How would you feel if we were in a fancy restaurant, and you were talking about work, or friends, or family, or something important to you, maybe a problem you are having, and then you notice that I’m looking at your tits, and you realise I’m not even paying attention, how would you feel?’

She looked at him, ‘uh please... I need you!’

‘I have an idea’, he said, both hands still holding her breasts, ‘a theme month, like butt-plug month or whore-month.’

‘What?’, she said distractedly, too much thinking, please fuck me!

‘For the next month, until this day next month, we cannot talk to each other if we are making eye contact.’


‘You cannot talk to me if I am looking at your eyes, unless you look away, or, even better, direct my gaze elsewhere. Use your body. I might forget to follow this, so you’re probably going to have to remind me to follow it, or you’ll have to look away. Ok?’

She looked away, ‘uh, uh yeah,’ she mimed sex again with her body.

‘In public it’s a bit trickier. I might just decide to break the rules, and that’s OK, you can listen to what I say, but you can’t talk. If you want to talk, no eye contact.’

‘Nnnnggghhh!’ she said with eye contact. Pent up frustration. But no words, just sounds. He didn’t object. She exaggerated panting for him, tongue out, like a dog. This was allowed.

He laughed. ‘OK, we’ll figure out the fine print later,’ his eyes moving to her tits. ‘Jiggle those tits for me, I want to bat at them like a cat.’ She giggled at the image. she swayed her torso for him, looking at him, looking at her chest. ‘Tell me how much you want this,’ he said, not looking at her face. ‘Tell me how much you love it when I stare at you,’ he ordered. And she did. She told him, and then she waited and he said, ‘don’t stop, tell me more.’ And she did, she told him how hot it made her, how she couldn’t wait for a life of being stared at for her big tits, how horny it made her to think of what she had done for him, how much she loved it, how happy she hoped he was with her.

Then he directed her to lay on her back, so he could play with her tits as they sat there, so round and artificially high, not flat against her and spread out as real breasts would be. Like a platonic representation of two hills on a plain. He remembered seeing the implants in the surgery before the operation, resting on a tray, and now here they were, in her, her body conforming to them, rather than the other way around. He’d have to get a ruler later, measure them. He wanted to put numbers on his enjoyment. ‘Watch the video,’ he ordered, implicitly allowing her to stop talking.

She fumbled with the phone and held it above her, her tits and Will sucking on them filling the frame of view between her arms and the phone. Will heard the video start, followed by an immediate and very unhappy ‘Oh no!’ from Nicole.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘My scars are horrible! I hate them!’ The mood had been damaged.

‘Oh shit, really?’ he lifted himself up and kneeled beside her on the bed, looking down at her.

The scars were obvious. He looked at her, she was worried, afraid what he would think, that he hated them too. The video was still playing, but she held the phone one handed now, her other arm across her chest, below her breasts, obscuring his view of the scars. They would fade. A year from now, they’d be practically invisible. But he liked them. He looked at her, ‘Nicole your...’ She broke eye contact looking away. He laughed. ‘Ok,’ he looked at her boobs, ‘look at me again. OK, so your scars are hot Nicole.’

‘Uh, no. Uh-uh.’ A ridiculous thing to say. The white lie of a boyfriend.

He laughed. He knew he wasn’t lying, and he knew he could convince her of this. He put a hand around each breast, shooing her arm away. He massaged the undersides, the scars, with his thumbs, occasionally reaching up to stroke her nipples.

‘Your scars are beautiful.’


He laughed again. It was adorable that she didn’t understand, but he would make her. ‘They show to the world that your tits are fake, that you did this to yourself, that you deliberately gave yourself bigger tits, and if people were to see them, they’ll probably think you like the attention.’ She still hadn’t cum of course, this would be easy. ‘Your scars are slutty. I like them. Your scars and your fake tits are hot.’

Still sceptical, but she was listening.

‘How often do you feel slutty when you are outside?’

‘A few times, in the past few years.’ You know well, she thought. Her hand snaked down between her legs. Finally. Would he stop her?

‘And you liked it didn’t you?’

An ‘uh, mmm’ in agreement. She was on board now. She writhed, and bit her lip, no, let it out. A large groan escaped. Eyes closed. ‘Really? You like them?’ Breathy. Now eyes open. Give me more.

‘Really,’ smiling at her.

You just broke the rules, she thought. Her hands grabbed her breasts and squeezed them together, pushing them up and out, presenting them. ‘I’m down HERE!’ she said loudly, feigning the annoyance of a massive social faux-pas committed against her. They fell against each other laughing.

He got up again and directed sincere and profuse apologies at her tits and they laughed again.

She was still holding her tits. ‘We accept your apology.’ More laughter.

‘Now watch the video,’ he said. One hand picked up the phone and the other sneaked back down. She propped the phone against her tits so that she could start the video using just one hand. Once it was playing she held it above her face so she didn’t have to strain her neck. Then she felt his tongue around her mound.

‘But people aren’t going to see them, are they?’ she asked, as she watched herself thrown off balance again.

He pushed her legs back and wider. ‘Tomorrow we’ll go to a swimming pool. We’ll sit out for a few hours and drink and talk.’

She moaned as he danced around her clit between sentences.

We’ll buy you a new bikini that shows off your scars.

No undersupport.

Everyone will see their fake shape.

Everyone will know you eschewed the natural look.

We’ll arrive early and get some sun beds where everyone will see you.

In the middle, between the bar and the pool, where everyone will pass by.

We are going to show off your new fake tits. You’d like that right?

The video had finished now and she had dropped the phone. She kneaded her tits, ‘uuhhhh’. This is insane, how have I not gotten to cum yet?

When you lie down on your back, everyone will see the scars.

We’ll get you some heels too.

When you strut past people lying on their loungers, they’ll have a better view up at your scars.

Wear some fake nails.

Lots of make-up, you won’t actually be going in the water.

Do your hair nice too.

Spend some time on it.

Sunglasses, so you can check out the people checking you out.

He got up and supported himself above her. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, to see everyone looking?’

Her hand took his cock from where he had positioned it in front of her vagina. She moved her body and used it to stroke herself. She groaned loudly. ‘Yes... please...’

He moved her hand away and entered her, just the tip, and she wrapped all four limbs as tightly around him as she could, attempting to pull him in, to feel him against her. His body didn’t give. She wasn’t weak, but he was so powerful.

He was looking down at her, her eyes closed, her body writhing on the sheets, trying to push herself against him, groaning with need, trying to feel more of him. He saw her lift her head off the pillow, trying to reach up to him, her mouth open, lips huge and moist. She strained with her neck but couldn’t reach him. She didn’t give up. She tried to reach out with her lips, pushing them forward to try to reach his.

Jesus Christ, he thought. All the talk about her tits and she has these things on her face. She knew now she couldn’t reach, but she didn’t stop trying to reach, moaning, hoping he would notice that she wanted to kiss, not realising he was actually looking at her, that he already knew.

He hadn’t gone over the top with them he reminded himself, as crazy as they looked right now. They were clearly fake, but some women did have such lips. He couldn’t hold back any longer and entered her a bit more. She groaned louder. He thought about withdrawing to get a blow job instead, but she felt too warm and soppy and good. Plus that would be too cruel on her. He’d have to remember to get some photos later of her face like that, reaching up from the pillow, stretching forward, yearning to be kissed. Something he could keep on his phone, that he could have when they were apart.

He entered a bit more, lowering himself as he did so, and suddenly he felt her tits against his chest. Before he would have had to have settled down a bit lower.

He kissed her, and her tongue reached in, wanting to touch his. He broke of the kiss and she gasped, eyes still closed. Her neck had relaxed now, the back of her head touching the pillow again, but she reached forward again now for more.

He entered her fully now, and settled down further, pressing his body against her, while still supporting most of his weight, himself. He whispered in her ear, ‘that’s what you want, right? You want everyone to think you’re a slut, right?’ He started thrusting very slowly, his full length, in and out.

‘Um, please.’

‘A slut who got big fake titties, because she couldn’t get enough attention, that’s who you are, yes?’

‘Yeah, that’s who I am.’

‘And your scars will be so red and clear on your skin, everyone will know you’re debuting them. And you’re going to love it, aren’t you?’

‘Uh, please, uhh, I need it.’

‘You’re not going to let me forget are you, say I forget we have to go to the pool, you won’t let that happen will you? You’ll remind me?’

‘Yeeessss’, low desperate, exhausted.

He laughed. Not un-un-sympathetically, she groaned more. ‘Of course you will. Everyone’s going to think you’re a fake-titted bimbo. Aren’t they?’


‘And they’ll be right, won’t they?’


‘What are you?’

‘A fake-titted bimbo.’ She was scraping at the skin on his back, hopelessly trying to grab together a lump of flesh that she could squeeze, though it wasn’t possible.

‘I’m a fake-titted bimbo,’ he corrected her.

‘I’m a fake-titted bimbo.’

‘Keep saying it until you cum. Remember to be as loud as feels right, as loud as your body is telling you.’

* * *

They fooled around at home for another few hours, playing with her new body. Later they went shopping.