The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Do Me a Favor

Copyright © 2004 by Jafar and Viviane

Do Me A Favor Chapter 5: A Few of My Favoritist Things

Jessica had to admit that, while the dress looked a bit ridiculous now, it was still better than nothing at all. She thought briefly of stuffing some cleaning rags in to soak up the milk that now dibbled incessantly from her large, dark nipples, but there just wasn’t that much room in the bodice now that her bust had expanded so much, and the front was already soaked anyway. The hemline was more of a problem; with most of the dress bunched up under her arms to accommodate her expanded waist and the rest tented over the bump, it didn’t leave much to the imagination.

She wasn’t sure just how far along she was, or was supposed to be. She tried to remember how Meagan had looked during her third trimester. Seven months? Eight? She smoothed her hands lovingly over her distended belly. It felt so unbearably perfect that she almost wept with joy.

When Meagan had been pregnant, Jessica found her quite changed. She knew it was just the hormones; the alchemy of motherhood working its strange magic on her friend. Much of the time she was tranquil, almost smug. She’d said once that she felt complete, that she’d found her place in the world. She’d tried to explain, but Jessica had never really understood. Not until this moment.

She looked down, trying to spot her toes past the bulge, and giggled. She didn’t need to read the favor anymore, it made perfect sense. Grace’s loophole, John’s trigger, the way she felt when she smoothed her hands over the graceful swell of her belly, the slightly sweet smell of the milk that dripped from her engorged breasts. She understood now; her breasts, her womb, this was what being a woman truly meant, this was what she was. Barefoot and pregnant.

It was wonderful. She never wanted it to end.

Grace stirred slightly on the floor, enough to jostle Jessica from her dreamy musings. She smiled and hoped that Grace would also be lucky enough to fall pregnant this evening and fulfill her destiny as a woman.

Jessica opened the door and stepped into the corridor. She had to find Meagan; she wanted to tell her that she understood now, wanted her friend to share in her joy. She frowned. The last time she’d seen her, Meagan had had Steven’s cock in her ass. That was no way to get pregnant; she’d have to speak to her about that.

She walked awkwardly down the passage, back toward the dining room. A bray of raucous laughter sounded from that direction, and she wondered if Fiona was still there.

She stopped, suddenly struck by a terrible thought. They were going to take it away from her; Sandy, or one of the others. Eventually, someone would take this beautiful gift away. She twined her fingers protectively around the hard plastic cubes of the favor and tried to think. She didn’t want to go back to being the hollow, ersatz woman that she had been. Would she even want to be pregnant then? She doubted it; the old Jessica was more interested in her career than starting a family. When she fucked, it was for pleasure, not for the joy of making babies. She shook her head, the idea was ludicrous. How could she go back to that shallow, meaningless existence?

Maybe she didn’t have to, she realized. She could make sure; she could help the old Jessica know the same bliss she felt. And when she did, she’d never want it to end either. She made up her mind and stroked the necklace of colorful cubes in token of her vow. When they come to take you away, she promised, I’m going to have so much sperm in me that I’ll be knocked up no matter what.

The idea made her strangely hot and she could feel herself moistening in anticipation. Maybe it was true what they said, that pregnancy made you horny all the time. She smiled, cupping her milk-laden tits. These would be useful, guys liked big titties and the pregnancy had definitely helped there. She squeezed experimentally, watching the damp fabric darken again as more milk squirted from her teats. Some men were turned on by pregnant women, she knew; she hoped that there were some at the party. As for the rest, well, she was pretty sure they’d be more interested in her cunt than the state of her womb anyway.

The dining room was empty, except for three people. Jessica stood by the door, half concealed by a potted plant. Through the wide doors that led to the main salon, she could see that the party was still going strong. Loud music with a bump and grind rhythm filled the air, punctuated now and then by laughter or cheers.

She studied the two men near the buffet table. One, the muscular black guy with the shaved head, she recognized as Justin from Asset Management. She didn’t know the other, a shorter, nervous-looking sandy-haired guy in a cheap suit. The pair were looking at a third figure, a tall nude woman with bright blue eyes and a cascade of perfect, long blond hair that reached the small of her back. She stood on tiptoe, arms lowered and held stiffly in front of her, hands a little in front of the smooth, tanned thighs. Jessica remembered the position from the ballet lessons she’d taken as a child. The woman certainly had the legs of a dancer, but the large bust and incongruously slender waist made her distinctly top-heavy. Jessica wondered how long she’d be able to stand on tiptoe before she fell flat on her face.

The woman rotated with little tippy steps while the men studied her. Jessica could see that, apart from the favor clasped about her elegant neck, she was completely naked; even her mons was perfectly smooth. The vacant, unblinking china-blue eyes swept across Jessica as she slowly pirouetted; the ruby-red lips in their slightly parted smile never twitched. She looked like a music box dancer designed by Hustler.

“Is that all it does?” Justin asked skeptically.

The other man looked crestfallen. “Well… I mean, okay, maybe it’s a niche market, but I figured she’d be a hit with the teenage demographic.”

Justin snorted derisively. “Chrissakes, Norris! Where do I even start? First of all, your average kid is not going to have the kind of cash it’ll take to buy the product; not without a sideline in dealing crack or robbing banks. And second, even if they did, they going to want something with a little more action; like Easy Does It or Teacher’s Pet, not something that turns the girl into a poseable mannequin.”

“Teacher’s Pet? I thought Marketing was going to call it Extracurricular Activity?“

“Didn’t test well with the focus group. Half of them couldn’t spell it, and the rest weren’t even sure what it meant. It’s down in the launch brochure as Teacher’s Pet, so bad luck if that was your pool pick. Anyhow, the question is, what’s she good for? Other than some kind of weird-ass art display.”

“Well, she does talk. Listen.” Norris reached up and squeezed the woman’s ample left breast.

“I’m Fucktoy Barbie!” the woman sang in a toy-blond voice. “You make my pussy WET!”

Justin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Well, scratch the fucking art display idea.”

“Um, maybe that’s not the best example.” Norris squeezed again.

“I’m Fucktoy Barbie! Giving head is my FAVORITIST thing in the WHOLE WORLD!”

“Favoritist?”

“Uh… well, she’s not actually repeating pre-programmed phrases, you know; she’s just saying what she thinks a sex doll would say.” Honk.

“I’m Fucktoy Barbie! Would you mind if my friend joined us?”

Justin grunted. “You’re probably going to have to change that, you know. I’ll have to check with Legal.”

“What? Like some toy company’s going to sue us? I thought it was one of those common usage things, like Kleenex, or Xerox. You’re kidding, right?”

“No, but I doubt it’ll be an issue anyway. It’s a non-starter, Norris. I mean, look at her; she’s useless. Does she even actually fuck?”

“Well… not as such, no. I mean…, everything’s there, of course, and you can fuck her, but she’s not going to actually respond. She more of a, um… passive toy. To play with.”

“I’m Fucktoy Barbie! Do you want me to swallow?”

Justin shook his head. “I’m sorry, Norris, I just can’t recommend this; not for the new lineup. I appreciate you showing it to me, but I just don’t think it’s ready. Take it back to the lab, work on it a bit. Make her more interactive. Give her…I dunno,… a Kung-Fu Cunt or something.”

Norris looked even more miserable. “Aw, man! Gimme a break, Just. This is my only other project. If it falls through I’m sunk; I’ll have nothing to show for the year. Look, I know the Diesel Dyke project didn’t go well, but…”

“She broke Ulrich’s arm in three places.”

“Okay, that wasn’t my fault! I don’t vet the test subjects; that’s Procurement’s job. How was I supposed to know she was an ex-Marine?”

“Look, this is going nowhere. I’ll tell you what I’ll do; I’ll put you on the backup list. If one of the primaries doesn’t make it through field testing… well, at least you’ll have a shot. In the meantime, see what you can do to spice up Miss TippyToes here.”

“I’m Fucktoy Barbie! Do you want to be my SPECIAL FRIEND?”

“And… that’s just creepy as all hell. Turn her off or something.”

Norris fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a tangle of colorful plastic cubes. “Thanks. I won’t forget this. I really owe you one, man.”

“Yeah; I won’t forget either.”

It took a fair amount of fumbling on Norris’ part (“I’m Fucktoy Barbie! Can I watch porn with you?”), before he was able to undo the favor from the slender neck. Jessica watched, fascinated, as the unlikely hourglass figure resolved into the more anatomically feasible, though still naked, body of Amelia from Human Resources. Jessica remembered her first day at Reilly, when the cheerful blond had helped her navigate the maze of questionnaires, security checks, non-disclosures, disclaimers and waivers of liability that Reilly demanded its new employees read and endorse. She remembered the wedding ring on Amelia’s finger and wondered if she was lucky enough to have any children.

Amelia blinked at Norris, confused. “Wha..?” she began.

The favor closed around her neck with a metallic click.

Amelia looked down at herself and squealed in alarm. “Ohmigod, omigod!” She tried to cover her breasts and privates with her hands. “Omigod, DON’T LOOK!”

“Why? What are we going to see?” Norris grinned, “A tramp who can’t keep her clothes on at the office party? Hey, ‘Melia; does your husband know what a slut you are?”

“What happened?” she wailed. “Where are my clothes? What did you DO to me?”

“Well,” Norris said, still grinning like a loon, “Let’s see… After you got smashed on the free champagne, you called Reilly a tightfisted, backstabbing old cocksucker, performed—in my option – a pretty decent striptease, then asked the senator’s wife if she was queer for cunt and offered to go down on her. You passed out when security tasered your ass, so we dragged you in here.”

Amelia stared at him, open-mouthed in shock, then gave another agonized squeak and tried to crawl under the buffet table. Norris caught her by the ankle and hauled her out into the open. “Oh no, you don’t! You stay right here where we can keep an eye on you.”

Amelia stood shivering in the center of the room, transfixed by the men’s gaze like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming Peterbilt, still trying desperately to hide as much of her nakedness as she could.

“What did you give her?”

“Well, the working title is ‘Dirty Shame’. It ties her sense of embarrassment and self-worth to her arousal level. The more she’s insulted or humiliated, the hotter she gets. There’s a bit the E-12 submission routine in there too; stops her just running away or hiding.”

“Looks pretty good. Why didn’t you submit this instead of that Barbie crap?”

Norris bristled. “It’s not mine. Dan lent it to me for the evening; it’s just a prototype.”

“Too bad.”

“Yeah, Dan’s got the touch, all right. Look at that; even our talking about her as if she weren’t here is doing the trick.”

Even from the doorway, Jessica could see that, despite the self-conscious blush that colored Amelia’s face, she was breathing hard. The hand she had used to hide her pussy seemed to have forgotten its original mission and was now making small circles above her clit. She hoped that Justin and Norris weren’t going to fuck her; she needed their cum more than Amelia did.

“Uh uh, ‘Melia!” Norris scolded, wagging a finger. “Only dirty little sluts play with their pussies in public.”

Amelia jerked her hand away as if she’d been stung, but then seemed unable to decide what to do with it. She settled for folding her arms protectively across her chest and trying to cross her legs.

Norris grinned again and turned to Justin. “You want to fuck her?” he asked. “I mean, the whole… uh, interracial thing; it’ll probably have her climbing the walls.” Amelia shivered again.

Justin gave Norris a long cool look. “No, thanks,” he said at last. “I’ve got some work to do. I’m on the selection committee this year.”

“Okay, well… maybe later, I guess. I’m gonna talk to Dan about the Barbie; maybe he’s got some ideas.” Norris grabbed Amelia by the arm and pulled her toward the salon. “C’mon, bitch.” He shouted ahead to the crowd “Hey guys! ‘Melia here says she’s always wanted to be ground zero at a circle jerk. Who wants to make her dream come true?” An enthusiastic cheer floated back into the dining room.

“Dickhead,” Justin muttered. He removed a PDA from his jacket and made some notes with the stylus.

Jessica watched him from the doorway. Tall, strong, smart. Their children would be beautiful. She made up her mind and stepped into the room. “Hi, Justin,” she cooed.

Justin looked up in surprise. He grinned.

“Oh, hi, Jessica. Well, look at you. Enjoying the party?”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s great. Though… I do have a small problem. Maybe you can help?” She was aware that the bump, which seemed to have grown even bigger in the past few minutes, had pulled the hemline of her dress far beyond the boundaries of propriety, brazenly displaying her pussy for all to see.

He grinned again. “Looks to me like you’ve got a big problem. What can I do?”

She waddled up to him, feeling heavy and ungainly, and looked up into his dark brown eyes. “I need you to fuck me pregnant, Justin,” she said simply.

He reached down to pull the dress up and ran his hands over her soft, swollen belly. She marveled at the contrast of his dark hands made with her pale skin and felt an electric rush of need that made her pussy gush.

“I think you’re pretty damn knocked up already, Jess.” He stroked her belly, circling the outie that her navel had become, and moved on up to the sodden fabric that did nothing but accentuate her engorged breasts. He tweaked a nipple and Jessica gasped in surprise and pleasure.

“Not… pregnant enough,” she managed to gasp as his fingers continued caressing her, setting off little fireworks in her mind. “Help me... make… sure.”

He stepped back. “Actually, I’d love to, but I’m on the clock. Things to see, people to do. You know how it is. I wouldn’t have time for more than a quick fuck.”

Jessica smiled reassuringly. “I just need your cum, Justin; I’m not looking for pillow talk.” She looked around the room. “Hand me those pillows and I’ll set up right here on the floor. You can fuck me from behind; like a bitch.” She cradled the bump lovingly. “I think that’ll be easier than on my back.”

Justin tossed her the cushions and Jessica used them to arrange her distended belly in a comfortable position and brace herself. She looked back to where Justin was removing his jacket and shirt. She imagined the sight she must present; her ass high, wet and ready, waiting for her man to pump his seed into her. She groaned softly, thinking of her belly swelling, her breasts heavy with milk. Forever and ever.

“You ever wonder why some men find pregnant women hot, Jessie?” Justin asked, breaking into her fantasies of gestational bliss.

“I… don’t know,” she answered, confused.

“I think,” he said, removing his trousers, “That it’s because it’s visual proof that the woman is a sexual creature. As well proving she’s fertile, of course.”

Fertile. Jessica wanted desperately to be fertile, to be the welcoming ground for Justin’s seed. He knelt behind her.

“You just look at a woman and you’ve got no idea what she’s like in bed. Is she a virgin? A slut? But one look at a pregnant bitch and you know she’s experienced. You know for a fact, that at some time she spread her legs and a man wet her insides down with his spunk. That’s what makes it erotic; that evidence of sex writ large for all to see.”

He eased the head of his cock between her folds; she was dripping, more than ready to receive him. “Looks like my little bitch is in heat,” he teased. She moaned in answer, trying to thrust against him, to bury his hard length deep, deep inside her, but the cushions and Justin’s hands on her hips kept her firmly in place. She whined in frustration.

“Please…”

“Please what, cunt?”

“Please… please fuck your bitch! Cum in me! Fuck a baby in me!”

“Now that’s what a man likes to hear.” He slid easily into her. She could feel him deep, so deep inside. He began a slow, deliberate rhythm.

She tried to concentrate, tried to make it better for him; squeeze his cock with her cunt, make him feel good; make him spill inside her.

“Oh baby,” she moaned, encouraging him as the tempo increased. “That’s so good. That big black cock feels… So. Fucking. Good. Are you going to cum in me, baby? You going to fill your bitch up?

Closer now; she could hear his breathing change. “That’s it. That’s it, baby. I want it. I need your cum deep in me. Knock me up. Fuck me pregnant; FUCK ME!”

He came with a grunt, the spasms shooting his jism into her like liquid fire. The thought, the knowledge that he had actually spurted his seed inside her was enough to set her off; she came hard, collapsing on the cushions with a shuddering wail.

Justin was quick to disengage. “Shit! Look at the time,” he said, “I’m gonna be late.” He wiped himself clean with a fold of the red dress and pulled on his boxers.

She still lay with her ass still in the air, savoring the feel of Justin’s semen within her. “Please,” she begged, “Can’t you stay? I just need some more…”

“You are one horny little slut, aren’t you?” he grinned, pulling on his shirt. “Sorry, like I said: Wham, bam.”

“I need to be sure...,” Jessica whimpered.

“And I’d love to stick around and make sure, but I’ve got business that won’t wait.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can find someone to pitch hit. You just stay right where you are.”

She heard him leave the room. It didn’t seem long before he was back and, by the sound of it, with a whole troupe of interested volunteers. Jessica couldn’t see very well from her head-down, ass-high position on the floor, so she wasn’t sure who they were. Mentally, she shrugged; did it really matter?

She heard Justin’s voice again. “There she is, boys. Go ahead and fill ‘er up. It’s what she wants; right, Jessica?”

“Oh god, YES! PLEASE!”

* * *

Sandy found her on the dining room rug.

Jessica had managed to roll onto her back once the men tired of her and left. She’d arranged the cushions under her ass to keep her hips elevated; she was pretty sure she’d read somewhere that it increased the chances of conception. The main problem was that she was so full of spunk cocktail that it kept leaking out. She had to hold her pussy closed with one hand to avoid spilling the precious fluid. She couldn’t bear the thought of wasting any of it, so she had carefully scooped up what leakage she could reach and licked her fingers clean. It didn’t taste very good and she knew that swallowing it wasn’t going to help her get pregnant, but all the same, she felt better with it inside her.

She was just wondering how long she would have to stay that that to insure she was well and truly up the duff, when the office manager stepped into view.

“Hi Sandy,” Jessica giggled.

Sandy looked down at the disheveled brunette with her swollen abdomen belly and milk-heavy breasts. The red dress she had arrived in was now wrinkled, and stained with milk and semen.

“I beat you,” Jessica said triumphantly. “Even if you take it from me, I’ve still got enough cum inside me to come up triplets.”

Sandy smiled. “Oui, so I ‘ear. But, you cannot simply lie here all night. Zer is someone très important that wishes to see you, and so, you must clean up and go.”

She knelt and touched the favor. As it slipped from her, Jessica felt a rush of conflicting emotions and sensations that left her reeling. She barely noticed Sandy fastening a new favor around her neck.

Jessica blinked, suddenly aware of what she had been doing for the past… hour? Reflexively her hands moved to her stomach, desperately seeking reassurance that it was no longer the bloated… thing she had been so happy about just minutes, and a lifetime, ago. The action released the flood of semen from within her, spurting it out over her retreating hand and thighs. She looked at her slime-covered fingers in disbelief.

“Oh god, I’m going to be sick.” She felt her gorge rising at the thought of what she had done, of what was even now swirling around inside her.

“No, I zink you will be fine,” Sandy opined, matter-of-factly. “I zink you should just calm down and listen to me.”

Jessica relaxed, feeling the urge to vomit subside. Sandy was right, of course, it was just jism; nothing to get excited about. She waited expectantly for her to say something else.

Sandy tsk’d and held up the stained dress. “Zis will ‘av to be laundered.”

Jessica eagerly nodded in agreement. It certainly would. She couldn’t walk around at a swanky party like this in a crumpled dress stained with spunk and smelling like the bottom of an ashtray. She looked at Sandy again, hoping she’d say something else just as profound.

Sandy sighed and stood. Jessica scrambled to her feet; she could feel the combined efforts of god knew how many men oozing down her thighs and plopping wetly onto the carpet.

“I zink,” Sandy said, “zat you need to get cleaned up.” Jessica nodded enthusiastically, happy that they were of the same mind. Wow, Sandy certainly had a way of cutting right to the heart of the matter. Jessica was impressed; she must be a damn good office manager.

“Zer is a bathroom with a shower nearby. Through zat door, first right, zecond on ze left. I will zend something for you to wear.” She looked around. “Do you still ‘av your shoes, at least?”

Jessica shook her head sadly. “No, but I think I know where they are.”

“I zink you should find zem, and zen go and clean up.”

Damn, Jessica thought, that’s a good idea. What was she thinking, walking around barefoot at a high-class party like some kind of hippy? Of course she needed her shoes.

Of course, there was the other problem.

“Um, Sandy?”

“Oui?”

“If you’re taking my dress to be cleaned—which is a FANTASTIC idea, by the way—I won’t have any clothes to wear right now.”

“So?”

“I mean, ha ha, I can’t just walk around naked.”

“I zink you can. I zink you enjoy wearing nozing but your shoes; it makes you feel sexy.”

Jessica pictured herself walking through the party, mingling with co-workers and clients, wearing just nothing but the red strappy heels. That was so HOT! How could she have forgotten how much she enjoyed strutting around like that?

“I’ve.. um, I’d better find those shoes,” Jessica said. She turned and fled toward the parlor where she had last seen them.