The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The car was a piece of shit, and required bribes at every smog check, and its death still found a way to surprise and disappoint Elena. She’d expected, if not an explosion, at least a cloud of greasy black smoke. Some sort of pyre. Instead the thing had gone down the off-ramp, traveled ten miles towards Stork, and then forgotten how to be a car. Like it had suffered a vehicular stroke.

Elena’s options were bad. Cell service didn’t work, not that she expected it to. The horizon was grain-brown. It wasn’t hiding any cell towers. She found ten dollars tucked away behind the rear-view—her sister’s usual resourcefulness. But no water bottles.

Nonetheless she hesitated when the truck pulled up. Thirst was peaceful. White bearded guys in trucks—who knew? She flipped her last cigarette onto the road, gave the driver a doubtful look.

“I’m not even gonna look at that car. It’s deader than rocks,” the driver said, from behind the wheel. “But I’ll ride you to Stork if you like.”

But—what else was she expecting? Maria had voluntarily moved to this town, where the Fords and Dodges roamed freely, and the radios only played Luke Combs. Elena was very aware that, underneath the tattoos, she was one hundred fifteen pounds, some of that hair, but she had nails like a lacquered blade. She climbed aboard, and threw her bag in the flatbed. It was full of junk and gear, which she took as a good sign. Men with empty trucks were looking to prove something.

“I’m Mark,” the man said. He was bigger up close, with a close-cropped beard and a flat nose. His jean/flannel outfit had disguised that the man was very large, his knuckles alone outsized along the driver’s wheel. “Elena,” she said.

“Elena!” Mark said. He accelerated smoothly. “Well. That’s a new name for me. I’ve met a lot of people, and Elena... new to the list. We’re both headed to Stork, huh?”

“I’m meeting my sister, who happens to be in Stork,” Elena said. Already she was kicking herself. She should’ve said she was meeting with three huge brothers, one of whom was the mayor.

But it was nice to be in the truck. Elena, raised on bad vibes, knew how to appreciate good ones. The radio reached back into 50s Country, which was at least charming. And it smelled—good. It was a little strange to notice, but the truck smelled so nice Elena looked around for an air freshener, or some sort of candle-based explanation. She sniffed.

“Oh! My manners!” Mark chuckled. “Man! I keep saying I gotta work on those. You want to have a... hmm... lets see... yeah, okay. Chocolate bar. That’ll do it. In the glove compartment.”

He reached a big paw over her, and Elena drew back. Mark didn’t seem to notice. He popped the glove box. Inside was—many things, especially small glass bottles filled with colored liquid. Amber, violet, and definitely pink. Electronics with beaten-up black plastic. And a bunch of boxes, one of which was labeled WREN CHOCOLATES.

Free chocolate. It seemed safe enough, and also artisanal. Mark handed it to her, along with a big bottle of water he produced from nowhere. It smelled—smooth, and of course chocolate-y, with a rind of salt, and something... else. Herbal.

Elena bit into it.

“Oh SHIT,” she said, without meaning to.

It dissolved in her mouth right away, a river of chocolate goo. She struggled to swallow. “Oh, wow.”

“Good stuff, I know,” Mark said. “I sell them. And lots of stuff. All over. Alllllllll over.”

“How is it—” Elena took another bite. Was she just deprived of delicacies? But she’d worked mall retail at See’s, tats hidden under a long-sleeved blouse. She’d educated herself on bon bons. Even the expensive bar-to-bean crap they marked up. Or vice-versa, whatever it was. Nothing like this.

“The best chocolate mixed with the best milk,” Mark said, solemnly. “And the second-best sugar. Finish it off and you can have another, I’m not here to sell. I’m on break. Well, really, I’m buying.”

Elena struggled not to take a third bite. Her range of experiences was narrowing to: chocolate bar. She was at risk of it dribbling down her chin. “What’re.. why’re you...” she wasn’t doing good with finishing sentences, all of a sudden.

“Gonna swing by the ex-wife’s place,” Mark said. He smiled, uncertain. “Curious to learn if she’ll take me back.”

“Here, lets get you warmed up,” Mark said.

He adjusted the vents so three were blowing right into her face. His arm kept sliding across her lap. Each arm hair had its own character, a precise and curved black line on a richly tanned forearm. It was a pleasant arm to look at. A gust of warm wind hit her in the face—not in a bad way. There was a hint of vanilla and cinnamon in there. Or was it the chocolate bar? She was almost done with it, licking her sticky fingers one after the other.

“Now drink some water,” Mark encouraged her.. Right, water. She should drink some water. Elena opened the bottle, smearing chocolate on the cap. She’d have to lick that eventually. The first drop hit her tongue, and she was tilting her head back, suddenly parched. She needed all of it.

Mark didn’t seem to mind if she spilled it on her shirt. Water mixed with chocolate stained her t-shirt. She’d worn a hoodie with a ripped and torn old t-shirt—stolen from her own ex. It had a skeleton on the back.

“You’re from—?”

“D.C.,” Elena said, once she could. The hot air beat against her face. She felt an urge to eat additional chocolates, and tried to tamp it down. Make small talk, for god’s sake. “My first time in the fields. Sis told me I should come see what cows look like.”

She sensed—how did she sense it?—his quiet disapproval. She felt suddenly shy, like she was caught lying to a likable teacher. “Also I’m stone cold broke and broke up with my boyfriend and got kicked out of his apartment.”

There, she felt immediately better. There was no lying to those biceps. They’d flex at her. Elena squirmed in her seat. One of the vents had drooped, and was now blowing air between her legs. She’d opted for her heaviest tights and a skirt. Now the wind was exploring.

“Men,” Mark said, shaking his head. “I can’t even apologize. I got the same curse. Have another chocolate bar. Breakup chocolate, best kind.”

It definitely was, and Elena was already drooling, narrowly slurping it back. Back came the beefy arm, handing her—oh yay—a second chocolate bar. She unwrapped it. Basic manners slowly intervened. “And—uh—you’re here for—your ex?”

“Matter of the heart,” Mark said. “You know. Or don’t. Or you do, I’m not saying you’re too young. For heart matters.” He struggled. It was cute. “I’m sure you know what it’s all about. Love. That stuff. Probably better than I do.”

“Not really,” Elena said. She giggled, and made sure to sniff the chocolate first. So good. “He let me move in for free and then kept trying to take off the condom. Love wasn’t a big part of it. I learned a lot about men, though.”

“The con...?” Mark squinted, tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Oh! Condom! Yes! Sorry, I—right. I’ve heard of those. Whew! Takes me back. Anyway, Terri and I were something, and then I started working a lot... traveling.. .looking in the wrong direction, you know?”

“Mmmmm-MMmmmmm,” Elena said. She looked sideways. Strange how a new man could go from potential threat to—why deny it?—kinda a hottie in a few short sections of road. Elena had never thought about DILFs before, about Fuckable Dads, but one who plied her with chocolate was making a good case.

She flicked her eyes down between his legs. The truck vibrated and the hot air went right up her skirt.

“I mean—I don’t mean to go on about my ex,” Mark said.

“No! No, go ahead. Least I can do!” Elena said. Fine by her if he wanted to talk. She had her mouth full. And it was kinda sweet, a man mourning for his lost love, even if ultimately it meant Divorced Aging Man.

“That’s kind of you. Lots of lonely days in this truck. Anyway, suddenly you’re separated and you think, heck, there’ll be other women. Lots of other women.. Lots and lots and lots.”

“I’ll bet,” Elena said.. Oops, her voice was supposed to be mildly sarcastic, and it came out throaty. It was all that chocolate in her mouth.

“But, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about what Pastor Flynn says about love.”

Church stuff. Elena’s interest ticked down a notch. But still... her interest in flannel was growing by the second. Her ex had worn flannel shirts all the time—work gear—and her interest in him had always been very high when he got back, sweaty, his sleeves rolled up...

“You can lose it when its hard, but you can lose it when its easy, too,” Mark said.. He glanced over at her. “Let me pull over real quick. I think I’ve got some milk in the back. You’ll like it.”

She really did. The milk was somehow cool, despite sitting outdoors in a truck bed in a humid part of the country. Mostly it was creamy and wonderful, and she swallowed it in heavy glugs. When she finished she was panting, hungry for air. For a moment she was unsure—why was this man giving her milk, of all things? Alcohol would’ve been less concerning.

But then Elena slipped another square of chocolate in her mouth, and those concerns wafted away.

“What’d she look like?” Elena asked. Now the milk blended with the milk chocolate...

“Uh,” Mark said. “I don’t want to—I mean, I’m not a poet, so...”

“You can say if she had big boobs, Mark,” Elena said. She giggled again. It was nice to giggle—nice in general to keep her mouth open. The air wafted around up there. “I know guys. Even the ones in love are like, mine is that one over there, the brunette with the fat ass.”

“Oh, it was that and MORE,” Mark said. Good, now he was reminiscing, which meant she had more time to slobber over chocolate. Elena wasn’t sure why she was so hellbent on the stuff—yeah, she’d gone hungry more than anyone liked, the past few years specially. But that didn’t mean she habitually gorged, like a starving dog. It had to be the luxury of it, the unexpected delight.

Or maybe it was just good as hell.

“Man, was she curvy,” Mark said. He kept checking her reaction. Elena gave her a sunny smile. Sure, this was fine. It was cute, hearing him be daddily lusty. Chocolate-giver could be a little horny. “And not just—you know—sitting around, being big. When she walked you had to keep both eyes on her to process it. Just that much swaying and wobbling. Not that there’s anything wrong with, uh, being skinny.”

“I’m working on that,” Elena said. There, two chocolate bars. Now she had to stop. Unless he gave her a third. She didn’t miss his voice catching a bit. Was Mr. Mark into plumping her up? Was that what was behind all this? Elena supposed it was concerning, but... if his thirst meant free calories, why not?

And he was getting cuter by the minute, after all.

“Alright, so here’s the gift package,” Mark instructed. “Graham crackers. Smores. Rice krispie squares, you’ll like those. Got some hot chocolate powder we can try. This is our deluxe package, for sending to like, a really special girl.”

“A girl you wanna definitely fuck,” Elena said. She saw his eyes widen. She felt completely at ease about it. It was totally fine if she was the one making horny jokes. It established how cool and in control she was. She was going to tear into the graham crackers first.

“Miss ELENA,” Mark said, actually blushing. Or she supposed, underneath the beard.

“See, that’s a nice thing about growing up shit poor,” she declared, breaking apart a cracker. The cinnamon scent just grew. Elena looked down. She’d let her thighs inch apart quite a bit. It felt more natural that way, with the heaters bearing down on her. “You learn stuff about being human. Like, if a guy buys me dinner? And gives me those, I will protect you vibes? Yeah, I’ll have sex with him. I’m an animal, that’s how animals do.”

“See, I know what you mean. Really well. But these days I go back and forth on that,” Mark said, rapping his fingers on the wheel.

“Oh, c’mon, Mark,” Elena said. She rubbed at his arm, affectionately. There was definitely a lot of muscle underneath that plaid. “You got us all figured out, don’t you? Chocolate, warmth, muscles, we girls just fall backwards. I mean, take me. Mateo was a low-tier guy. Did I fuck him? Yes, I did. Even though I could’ve gotten pregnant? Yes. Even though he was bad at sex? Again, yes, I spread my legs for that man. A lot.”

It was a long speech, and it meant she wasn’t trying the smores. They had a plain white and black wrapper, and came with even more chocolate against a marshmallow wad. In her mouth it went.. “MmmmmMMmm,” Elena said, scooching back in her chair. Her head buzzed pleasantly. “Shhhooo good.”

She was distantly aware that she was being a little forward. But why not? It felt—nice—to flirt, to be warm and safe and full. Even Mark being an older man was just—attractive. He looked like a guy who could please a woman. He’d probably fucked dozens. Happy fantasies started to form.

“I mean, yeah, sex is important,” Mark said, looking out the window. “...and.... and I’m not totally sure on this part... but I think I’m getting there.. it’s not love, is it?”

Elena drooled over the top of her shirt. “Bwah?” she said, muzzy.

“Pee break,” Mark announced. He pulled the truck over. There was a single lone tree, not even that close to the road. Boys would be boys, Elena figured. She watched the man amble off, hands in his jean pockets. He was—six foot two? Six three?

She’d eaten her way through his “super-secret, seriously, don’t tell anyone,” kettle corn supply. Sugar-sweet and caramel, plus the new nutella blend that nearly made her eyes cross.

Elena tried to summon up some suspicion. Men, even older men feeling vaguely guilty, did not hand over this much stock without asking something in return. Elena couldn’t recall any type of guy being this—generous. There had to be a catch. She belched, unladylike, fighting back the constant spiced wind of the truck A/C.

Or maybe Mark was a nice, sexy guy.

Her bra straps dug into her back. How much had she put away? Two.. or three? chocolate bars, the smores, the graham crackers, and now three bags of popcorn. Like a gallon of milk. No wonder her boobs felt tender and heavy, her butt felt newly padded. Or—no—it should’ve been her stomach, right? Mark had left the radio playing, something twangy, too soft to make out. The dash played a little LED lightshow, just for her. Red and blue and white and blue and red...

Elena had an idea. She unsnapped her bra, groaning with relief. Then rummaged around in her suitcase, darting looks out towards the distant peeing tree. Her hottest bra, the one with the undercups, barely fit. But it did the job of scooping and lifting. She squeezed her assets into a tight white tanktop, then danced around, trying to fit on a pair of jean shorts. Her butt had to be coaxed and squeezed in, and her front button was a strain.

But when it was done she was definitely paying back every snack. She’d become one. Tits billowing up the top, rear end wrapped in a Mark-friendly pair of shorts. And her tattoos for a little indie flair. Her pussy gave an unexpected pulse. She just had to trust in it—that Mark could be trusted.

“Hi!” she chirped, when he got back. It was the exact reaction she wanted—slow realization, followed by a man unsure where to put his eyes, followed by the understanding they could go wherever they wanted. Mark climbed in. “Too warm?” he said. “I can turn the heat down.”

“Oh, I just....” what was she supposed to say? His scent returned along with him—flannel shirts and honest sweat. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it. He started the truck.

“I recall making a big speech about missing my ex,” Mark said, after a minute.

“Y-yeah?” Elena said. Did he—had she made a big mistake? She had. She’d run into a genuinely nice guy and—what? Why was she tarting up and slutting up? Elena looked down, startled. Where had these TITS come from? She was an unspectacular B-cup, and that was according to Mateo. Embarrassment flooded her—every inch of her cleavage was on display. “I—I mean, I appreciate the—”

“Oh, Elena, if you want more goodies, just ask!” Mark said. “In fact...” he reached out his hand again. Elena braced herself—here it came—he was going to grope her tits. It was all an act. His big hands were going to pull her nipples. She had mixed emotions about it—although her clit didn’t, it was lubricated and ready to go.

But no, he was just opening up the glove box again. And this time, pulling out a box of cigarettes. Mark balanced the wheel with his legs and pulled one out. It had a pink tip. “Join me?” he said. He handed it to her.

“Here’s the thing about Terri. I’m swearing you to secrecy on this one,” Mark said. He’d pulled his own pack of smokes from a pocket.

Elena took another pull. Funny, the smoke even seemed to drift out pink. It was the smoothest smoke she’d ever had, like her lungs were getting a spa treatment. “Pinky swear,” she said.

“Terri can’t give good head.”

Elena giggled. Her boobs bounced around. That was new, wasn’t it? She had to figure her body was surprisingly good at putting things away. Among other things, she’d downed about a gallon of fresh farm milk and still didn’t need to pee.

“I’m dead serious,” Mark said. “She just can’t. And she loves doing it, she loves getting on her knees. She’s a good girl, she sucks dick, that’s Terri to the bone.”

Right, good girls sucked cock. Elena nodded energetically. It had taken her a little time to conceptualize talking about sex so openly with Mark. But on the third long pull she’d figured it out: he was a Dad, teaching little miss her all the stuff she should’ve learned. With that understanding it was totally cool to pick up on fucking tips from a guy that had to be, she was sure, an incredible lover. Her nipples agreed with her. They ached to be touched.

“But—she loves it too much, I think thats it. She can’t keep a rhythm. Like you’re gonna suck a decent dick if you’re lick and suck, lick and suck. Deep look in the eyes. Rhythm.”

“Right,” Elena kept nodding. It was so warm in the car. It felt strange, blowing smoke out with the windows up, but Mark seemed cool with it. It didn’t smell like usual tobacco, either. More like singed cotton candy. Which was also the next treat he’d promised his lil Elena. “Oh yeah, you gotta be consis.. uh... same-y. Regular.” Her head swirled pleasantly.

“With Terri she’ll dive right on, like she’s dying of thirst, then she sucks too fast because she wants the reward, then she gets distracted because its making her horny, then she’ll realize she’s losing steam, then the precum starts to drip and she puts her lips on lock because she loves it.” Mark shook his head, mock-exasperated.

“Is she a good fuck?” Elena broke in.

“Oh, the best,” Mark assured her. “A little too into doggy. But that’s not on her. You get a girl horny enough, they all want doggy. Deepest penetration.”

“The one time I put my ass up in the air, Mateo tried to do surprise anal,” Elena said. She shook her head. “That’s the problem I have. Boring body. Guys start planning stunts because its whatever.”

“You really think that?” Mark said, surprised.

“I mean...” Elena gestured at her figure. Although it didn’t seem to be the same beanpole she quite remembered. Did her thighs always stick together like that? Were they always smooth and long, fighting the pinch of the denim hem?

“That’s another thing I fucked up with Terri,” Mark admitted. “I was like—she’s got tits to Des Moines and a freight ass. She must know she’s fuckable. And you think, we’re fucking all day long, that’s a compliment. And it just isn’t. So, Elena, I think you’re hot. Damn fuckable. Nice mouth, cocksucker lips. Full package.”

Elena blushed crimson.

Part of her wanted to think thoughts like: cocksucker lips? That was demeaning. But it was all erased by a full-body surge of dopamine, making her thighs quake. “Unnhhh,” she said. It was supposed to be a verbal response, but she couldn’t quite push it out.

Mark reached over and patted her thigh. “You’re coming along just perfect,” he said, encouraging. “Lets get the cotton candy going. High-carb stuff.”

Cotton candy wasn’t quite the word for it. First of all, it came in a grain bag, a rough burlap sack. It wasn’t even very sweet. But there was a lot of it, a whole lot of it, homespun strands of something that melted away as she ate it. And ate it and ate it.

She lowered her mouth closer and closer to the bag, until she was just about inside of it. Her mind seemed to stick, like a caught clock. The world was the truck and the bag, the chewy wad in her mouth, Mark rubbing her back, reassuring.

“I think the bottom line is, I took her for granted,” Mark said. “I didn’t treat her like a woman. And, you know. Yeah Terri was a little bit livestock, we all are now. But that’s where I fucked up. You should love your cows, too. You should tell them how pretty they are. Thank them for the first blowjob or the sixth blowjob. Get her a present. God, that final birthday, I got her my dick for her present. What was I thinking?”

It all filtered through Elena’s head. Something about it was... off. She tried to raise her head, but Mark’s hand was on her back, reminding her that she needed to eat. They drove in silence, until she’d made her way through the entire bag. Mark wordlessly handed her another jug of milk. He even cracked the window, just a bit. Something about that, the cut of actual wind above the pink fug, helped her think.

“Were you—were you saying something about—cows?” she managed.

“Elena, I’m getting the sense you had it rough growing up,” Mark said.

He had his right hand between her legs, rough thumb stroking her quivering thigh. It felt too good to be wrong in any way.

“I mean...” Elena was breathing too hard to talk. She reached back and undid the struggling clasp of her bra. Thank god. Her boobs filled the t-shirt to overflowing all on their own. “Dad wasn’t really around, Mom was in and out. My sister pretty much raised me.” Right... her sister. Her sister she was going to see. What was her name? Why couldn’t she quite recall?

“Sorry to hear that,” Mark said. He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is.... I think these days I’ve got enough love to go around, if you need any.”

Was he—he was.

He was giving her permission to call him Daddy.

She laughed, helplessly. All those bad boyfriends, and Daddy was just going to randomly pick her up on the side of the road. From her busted car. Where she was—going to see—someone. Some girl.

They passed a broken-down yellow sedan on the side of the road.

“Wait,” Elena said, looking back. “Wait a second.”

“Sure,” Daddy Mark seemed unconcerned. He slowed down.

“That was—my car. Wait. It was like, fifteen more minutes to—that town. Stork. We’ve been driving for.. for hours? And my sister—Maria. Why did I forget—”

“Oh, I took you the scenic route,” Daddy Mark said. He was still stroking her legs. It was very soothing. It was hard to be concerned. So hard. “Don’t worry about it.”

Elena looked around. Why were there—why was her shirt struggling to hold her boobs in? She didn’t even have boobs, much less the wobbling big knockers partially pinned by her seatbelt. She was—why did her lips feel so thick and heavy, her mind cobwebbed over with pink smoke?

“You know what?” Mark said. He reached over her to the glove box. Elena couldn’t seem to stop herself from pressing towards him, rubbing her boobs against his flannel-covered arm. It felt super good. Everything felt good, and she was still so hungry... “I think a good girl like you deserves a special chocolate bar.”

“Ch-chocolate?” She was a very good girl. It would taste good. But—no—she had a sister to see..

“It’s got caramel in it.” Daddy Mark handed it to her, confident she’d unwrap it. Elena tried to hold back—surely something was off—surely she wasn’t still a slutty candy girl—but her fingers did the work. There was a thin caramel line in between the chocolate slab. Her mouth filled with spit. She whined, deep in her throat. She took a tiny little bite, hoping it would be enough. It wasn’t.

“You can touch yourself while you eat,” Daddy told her. And she did.

The new feed didn’t taste like much of anything. It took Elena awhile to parse out the letters on the side of the bag—G-I-R-L was easy, but B-U-L-K was hard. It was a crumbly white stuff, like waxy oats. But her mouth was still chocolate-y and, besides, it was food. So she ate it.

Her shirt and shorts were getting awfully tight. In some ways this was good. It made it pretty easy to rub herself, even through the complaining, way-too-snug denim she’d squeezed herself into. Elena gave some thought to just shucking them down, but between shoveling in food, and rubbing herself, her hands were pretty full.

Plus, it would be a lil slutty to just expose her cunny in front of Daddy.

Every so often she snuck admiring glances at him. Why had she never realized that all she needed was a Daddy? She’d made so many poor life decisions, suffering from the lack of one. Crappy boyfriends, bad car, a lot of meaningless tattoos. Probably other stuff—her memory was feeling pretty hazy, right then. It was hard to think about pretty much anything, with mouth full and pussy rubbed.

“Shoot, I’m getting nervous,” Daddy admitted. “This seemed like a better idea awhile ago. I haven’t seen Terri in what, three years? So she’s had three kids since then. What if she doesn’t want me back?”

She will, Elena wanted to say. But she didn’t really feel like talking. It was okay. Daddy’s hand had finally, finally found her tits, and was squeezing them gently. “At least you turned out alright,” Daddy said. It was the nicest thing a guy had ever said to her, and made her feel all gushy and happy. Elena closed her eyes. Her latest orgasm felt fantastic.

They pulled into a set of closely packed houses. Daddy’s fingers were a little rough on her skin. It was okay—he was just a bit nervous.

“Okay. We’re here. Go ahead and get out,” Daddy said. He even opened the door for her. Elena stood up.

She was—bigger. Much bigger. Fat, turgid tits spilled down off her chest, tenting her shirt to its absolute limits. And her shorts were completely hopeless. She was going to need to be cut out of them. Even her arm tattoos seemed faded, limp, on newly rounded forearms. Somehow she found some mental energy to freak out—why was she so CURVY? Her butt was aching to burst out. She’s soaked her shorts through. She turned to go—somewhere. Her sister. She had a slutty sister out there. Mary or something.

“Elena?” Daddy said, gently. He had dropped his pants and pulled his dick out. “You thirsty? After the long car ride?”

Elena moaned. She really was.

Squatting to suck cock sent her overtaxed clothes past the edge. They burst, both of them. Her shorts most spectacularly, splitting in two, the denim giving up and ripping. Ass spilled out, two well-rounded cheeks, quickly filled in and sculpted. Her shirt tore at the arms, but that did the trick for her bust. She was spilling out all over. It would’ve been humiliating, if Daddy’s dick wasn’t so reassuring.

“That’s great, that’s perfect,” he said. Just like he’d told her: lick, then suck. Lick, then suck. Her pussy was exposed to the air, but Elena ignored it as best she could. She had to concentrate on her rhythm.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned her, gratifyingly quickly. “Oh. Uh. Great job. Fantastic job. Nice—unhh.” He came. She tried to lock her lips around his dick, but it was too much, too fast. Gobs of cum joined chocolate spittle in her cleavage. He stroked her hair. “Good work, slut. Now, stand up, alright? Don’t worry. I’m taking care of you.”

Praise and security. What else was love, from a man? Elena stood, and let him finish stripping her down. Her new boobs were huge and proud in the night air. Daddy went to the back of his truck, and emerged with a length of bright red ribbon.

“Alright... this might look a little silly... but lets see...” he wrapped it around her, and then tied a beautiful bow across the top of her tits. It pulled the velvet into her snatch, but Elena wasn’t complaining. What was there to complain about? “It’s Elena, right? I guess I can’t rename you Lexus, huh? Alright. Elena, you’ve been great. I think I have another chocolate bar for you. But lets see Terri first, okay?”

He guided her forwards to the front door, and rang the bell.

Elena concentrated on the feel of his hand on her ass.

A girl with fat cocksucker lips and two thick tits answered the door.

“Hi baby,” Mark said, his voice quivering. “I’m back. I got you a present.”

Elena took an obedient step forwards.