The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There’s Somthing in the Water

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All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Late 1950s, somewhere in the Midwest …

Chapter 11

Sally woke in the morning feeling quite guilty for listening to her mother give her eighteen-year-old brother a blowjob. What would Sally’s husband, Jack, say if he knew she’d touched herself while sounds of that perversion crept through her thin bedroom walls? Sally also felt terrible for her father. What was Susy thinking, getting Patrick off like that? So what if her dumb little brother had a big one?

She pulled herself out of bed, still in her flannel pajamas. She needed to confront someone about last night to lift the guilt off her own shoulders. Sally walked across the room on bare feet, opened her door, and stepped into the hall. From downstairs she could hear the clanging of pans as Susy made breakfast. The scent of frying bacon rose up to her. From the washroom down the hall, she could hear the shower running. Better to face Patrick than Susy. She could push her brother around. Her mom could be very tough. She closed her bedroom door and padded down the hall.

When Sally tested the washroom door, she found it unlocked. The washroom churned with steam. Behind the shower curtain, Patrick’s frail body wiggled as he scrubbed himself down. He sang Rock Around the Clock softly and a bit off-key. Sally took a step inside, closed the door, but then hesitated. Did she really want to confront him in the shower? On the one hand, she’d catch him at his most vulnerable. On the other, he’d be … well, naked. Sally convinced herself it was the right thing to do.

“Pat, we need to talk.” Sally took another step toward the shower and put her hand on the curtain, but did not open it.

Patrick jumped and stopped his scrubbing and singing. “Sally? What are you doing in here?”

“You really are a dummy.” Sally suddenly struggled to find her breath. Maybe it was the steam. Through the shower curtain, she could only see the faint shape of his body with very little detail. Even so, she found her eyes falling to where that giant penis must be hanging. “I heard you last night.”

“Oh, sorry.” Even though the water was warm, Patrick shivered and hugged his skinny chest. “I sometimes talk in my sleep.”

“No, Pat.” Sally was panting now. “I heard … you and Mom.”

Patrick quietly let the water run down his back. This was a nightmare. He’d come in here sweaty, but the water must have washed it off. Unless the sweat had somehow gotten mixed in with the steam. Could that happen?

“You seduced her, you little shit.” Sally wondered what Patrick’s dick actually looked like. She had held it, but hadn’t seen it. Would it be so bad to have a look while she put him in his place? “I heard you. And you need to leave her … alone.” It was so hot and steamy in the little room. Sally was breathing hard and now sweat seeped from her pores.

“It wasn’t me, Sally.” Patrick’s voice was weak and feeble. “There was a meteor and—”

“Just shut up with that crap.” Sally threw open the curtain. She didn’t even pretend to make eye contact with her brother, her gaze focused squarely on his gadget. It hung down obscenely between his skinny little legs, longer soft than Jack’s was hard. “You’re going to ruin our family … with that thing.” She pointed her index finger at his dick, and as if by magic it grew and grew until it was jutting out horribly from his slender body. “You’re going to …” Without thinking, she stepped into the shower with Patrick and closed the curtain behind her. The legs of her pajamas were instantly soaked by the shower. “You’re going to ruin my marriage, Pat.”

“Sally?” Patrick could only look as his red-haired, freckled sister kneeled in the shower before him. She was blurry without his glasses and she and Donna did look much alike. Maybe if he pretended she was Donna, it would be okay. “Sally, you don’t have to—”

“Shut up, dummy.” Sally reached out with both hands for his penis, but stopped herself halfway. She stared at her left hand for a few seconds. Then with her right hand she pulled off her wedding ring and reached under the curtain to place it on the cool tile of the washroom floor. She pulled her hand back into the shower and grasped the magnificent tool in front of her. “I do have to.” She caressed the sides, feeling those bulging veins with her fingertips.

“Okay.” Patrick let his arms fall to his sides. It was clear to him that he was caught in the widening gyre. Perhaps things had already progressed too far. He could only hope to find the source of this perversion. Until then, he wanted nothing more than to see his pretty sister slurp his dick. “Go ahead, put it in your mouth.”

Five minutes later, Sally found herself in the middle of the most wild and delirious blowjob. Her pajamas were completely soaked through and hung heavy, clinging to her shoulders, boobs, and thighs. Her head bobbed back and forth, with her left hand on his shaft and her right cupping one of Patrick’s giant balls. Her mouth made the most ridiculous slurping and popping noises. Her whole purpose had whittled down to making her brother explode down her throat.

Patrick tried not to make too much sound. He knew, given the situation, it was crazy, but he worried that Sally would later make fun of his high-pitched grunts. “Sally … if you don’t stop … I’ll …”

That was music to Sally’s ears. She needed his cum. This was already the most fulfilling sexual experience of her life. In that moment she wouldn’t have been able to remember her honeymoon, even if she wanted to. She kept up her pace and massaged his testicle a little more firmly, trying to hurry along that orgasm.

“Sally … oh … Sally.” Patrick put both hands behind her head and pulled her farther onto his shaft. She gagged a little but didn’t resist.

Sally moved her hands to his thighs just as the first surge of cum flooded her mouth. Electricity ran down her spine and her pussy clenched tight. Lights shot before her eyes and she was only dimly aware of the second, third, and fourth blasts of cum that filled her mouth, bulged her cheeks, ran down her throat, and leaked between her lips.

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh.” Patrick held her wet red hair until his balls finished churning, then he let go. His dick flopped out of Sally’s mouth as she fell back on her butt on the tub floor. “Wow … that was almost … as good as … Donna.” Patrick had gone from no blowjobs in his life, to three beautiful, intelligent ladies happily sucking him off. And he was related to two of them. He tried to turn his brain around those amazing facts.

“Donna?” Sally opened her pale blue eyes and looked up at Patrick. He still had his monster erection and a drop of leftover cum dripped down the bluish head. His cum also slowly slid down Sally’s freckled chin. The pure saltiness of it lingered on her tongue. “Donna? Is that the girl Mom is so mad about?” While leaning back in the tub, Sally slowly unbuttoned her pajama top.

“Yeah.” Patrick’s frustration at not being able to see was always present when he wasn’t wearing glasses. But never more acute than at that moment. He could see Sally unbutton her shirt and throw the sopping thing open, and he could see the shape of her boobs, hanging to the sides as she leaned back. But he couldn’t get any of the details. Were they freckled like the rest of her? Were her nipples large? How about her areolas? “Donna’s my girlfriend.” Wow, he said it. And he really believed it. She was, wasn’t she? “And I love her.”

“Good for you, Pat.” Sally shrugged out of her top and dropped it on the washroom floor with a wet splat. “I don’t know what’s come over me.” She put her thumbs in her waistband and shimmed her wet bottoms off. “I thought I was mad at you about Mom.” She tossed them out of the tub too. “But I think I want to be just like Mom.”

“You’re so beautiful, Sally.” Patrick could just see the blur of the red triangle between her legs. He could see well enough the curve of her hips and boobs, and the slender delicacy of her arms and legs.

“All these years, Pat.” Sally slowly got to her feet. The water coming out of the shower head was still hot. She pushed Patrick out of the way and washed the cum off her face. She then turned to him, pushed her wet hair back, and opened her eyes. She could feel his penis pushing up against her thigh. “I never thought of you as anything more than a cute little runt.” She pressed her legs together and moved so that his erection slipped between her thighs, rubbing against her pussy. She put her arms around Patrick’s slim shoulders. “I was so wrong.” She rocked her hips so that his penis rubbed against her. “We can’t put it in me. Okay?”

“Whatever you say.” Patrick was in heaven. He was getting the feeling that she wanted a kiss. He put his hands on the spectacularly curved small of her back. “What about Jack?” His dick felt amazing sliding between her legs. He hadn’t even known this sex act was a thing, or what to call it.

“Ooooohhhhhh.” Little shivers spread through Sally’s nerves as that rough, veiny thing rubbed against her spread lips. “That’s why …” She leaned closer to Patrick. “… we can’t put it in.” Her boobs pressed up against his skinny chest. She placed a tentative kiss on his lips. And then another one. Pretty soon they were necking like a couple at Lovers Point. The washroom filled with the rhythmic splashing sounds of their wet bellies slapping together.

“Pat, you in there?” Fred sounded annoyed as his muffled voice came through the door.

The siblings broke their kiss and looked at each other wide-eyed. But their hips didn’t stop moving, it felt too good. Water cascaded over Sally’s shoulders and washed over both of them.

“Yeah, Dad,” Patrick called out.

“Save some hot water for the rest of us.” Fred banged on the door for punctuation.

“Okay.” Patrick couldn’t believe he was still moving his hips. He should have been way more terrified in that moment than he was.

“Pat … are you …?” Fred paused. “Jesus, Pat. I can hear what you’re doing in there. You share that shower with your sister, don’t do that in there.”

Patrick’s tension went up another notch. He was sure he and his sister had been caught. But yet still their bellies kept slapping.

Sally saw the worry on her brother’s face and shook her head. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “He thinks you’re tugging it. He doesn’t know I’m in here.” With enormous willpower, she stopped her hips and the slapping sounds ceased.

“Sorry, Dad.” Patrick called out.

“Fucking teenagers,” Fred’s voice faded away as he marched off down the hall.

Sally giggled and giggled when she was sure he was gone. Pretty soon Patrick started laughing too. While they chortled together, their hips started up again. Then Sally cut off their laughter by placing her tongue back in her brother’s mouth.

A few minutes later, Patrick came again, shooting most of it behind Sally onto the shower wall. But some of his cum splashed onto her thighs and butt and again, giving her the most delicious sensations.

Neither of them wanted to press their luck, so Sally washed off, stepped out of the shower, and wrung her pajamas out into the sink. When she was ready to leave, she looked back at the outline of her brother through the shower curtain, scrubbing the cum off the tile. “That was … really crazy, Pat.” She then opened the door before he could reply and looked down the hall. The coast was clear, so she darted back to her bedroom, wrapped in a towel with her pajamas tucked under her arm.

As Patrick shut off the shower and dried off, he had doubts about the mystery for the first time. Maybe he didn’t need to get to the bottom of anything. He shook his head. No, he had a responsibility as an investigator. He’d talk it over with Donna when he saw her. Patrick planned on telling her everything. He hoped she’d understand.

* * *

“Maybe …” Mark lay on the hotel bed, his bowtie undone and hanging around his neck, his shirt wrinkled and open at the collar. “Maybe this is too dangerous, my lady.” He eyed his wife sitting very upright in the bedside chair. Something was clearly different about her. Her body seemed more round and her eyes seemed … more full of life? Could she be enjoying her role as the solo investigator so much?

“What are you saying?” Donna offered Mark a faint, passing smile. Almost enough movement to bring out the dimples on her freckled cheeks. “Has the irrepressible Mr. Farmer met his match? I’ve never heard the words ‘too dangerous’ pass your lips before.”

“Well, did you find Dr. Cobb or her team?” Mark flipped a pen in the air over and over again. He missed each and every catch attempt.

“They were not at their accommodations.” Donna raised an eyebrow. “Maybe Patrick and I could ride around town and see if we spot any of them.”

“You’re seeing a lot of our junior investigator.” Mark’s brows furrowed.

“He is our junior investigator.” Donna set her chin and let her face go blank. She would offer Mark no hint at what really happened while they were out investigating.

“Something is very wrong here.” Mark sat up on the bed and looked into his wife’s deep sea-green eyes, magnified by her spectacles. “We should leave Portsmith.”

“Just give me a little more time.” Donna’s pulse quickened. She did not want to leave Patrick or the town. “Let us see what we can come up with.”


“Yes, I need help, Mark. Patrick is helping me.” She did not add that the teenager was mostly helping her resize her vagina and rethink what sex could be.

“Fine.” Mark nodded slowly. “A few more days. And then we leave. Good enough, my lady?”

“Yes.” But it wasn’t anywhere near good enough. Donna had no intention of giving up on Portsmith.

* * *

David woke in the morning to find his mother shaking his shoulder. He smiled up at her. She already wore a nice housedress and she’d done her hair. Had David slept in?

“Your father and I got up early today. He had to go to work at the crack of dawn.” Linda smiled down at him and brushed back his messy blond hair with her hand. “He left a few minutes ago.”

At that, David sat up. “So, can we do it before school?”

“There’s time.” Linda looked over her shoulder at the open bedroom door. “But I wanted you to meet our new houseguest first.” She took his hand and pulled him out of bed.

“Okay, I suppose.” David stumbled to his feet. His morning wood tugged at his pajama bottoms as his mom dragged him from his room and led him into what had once been his older brother’s room.

“I’m glad you two are up.” Linda stopped halfway across the room and appreciated the view.

Olivia sat up with her back on the pillows. She was naked, her pale skin radiant in the morning light. In her arms, she cradled Wendy, who suckled and licked milk from Olivia’s small breasts. “Oh, my. This is embarrassing.” Olivia looked up at mother and son. She covered up her exposed boob with her hand, but let Wendy continue sucking on the other boob. “We just couldn’t help ourselves.” Olivia looked back down at the former government investigator. Wendy’s dark brown skin was in stark contrast to Olivia.

“Nothing to be ashamed about, dear.” Linda reached behind David and gave his butt a squeeze. It was so firm. She hoped he’d still exercise regularly now that basketball season was canceled. “This is Wendy’s ongoing baptismal. I’m quite sure this is all the work of God.”

Wendy released the nipple from her mouth, and turned to face Linda, still lying on Olivia’s lap. Milk dripped off her chin. “I was baptized into the Catholic church.” The cross around Wendy’s neck vouched for her story.

“Of course, you were.” Linda nodded. “But now you’re being baptized into our little community in Portsmith. Ms. Wendy Gonzalez, meet my son, David.”

“Hello.” Wendy eyed David with suspicion. She didn’t want anything to come between her and the milk that flowed from Linda’s and Olivia’s breasts. And as Linda’s son, he was an obvious rival in his home territory.

“Hello,” David nodded down at the naked woman. He’d seen very few naked women in his life, and all of them had pale skin. He eyed Wendy’s black nipples, and the faint dark, stretch marks on her hips.

“Eyes elsewhere, bub.” Wendy covered her boobs with an arm and covered the black triangle between her legs with her other hand.

“Sorry.” David looked down at this mother. “Mom, can we go do … that thing now?”

“Hold on Davey.” Linda looked down at the women on the bed and smiled patiently. “Olivia has already experienced the full baptism, but now it’s your turn, Wendy.” Linda dropped to her knees and pulled down David’s bottoms. His long, hard penis sprung free.

Wendy gasped.

Olivia stared wide-eyed.

Linda licked some precum off the tip and shivered. “In this house, Davey is the holy messenger.”

“Mom. I don’t think that’s … oooooohhhhhh. Your tongue feels so good.” David put his hands on the back of Linda’s blonde hair.

Both women on the bed watched with mouths hanging open.

“But he’s your son,” Wendy said. It seemed each passing moment Wendy spent in Portsmith broke some cardinal rule. She watched Linda work the monstrosity. It was such a loving, caring blowjob that even if she hadn’t known Linda was David’s mother, she might have guessed it.

David looked over at the women on the bed and thought they were both quite beautiful. A light sheen of sweat broke out all over his body.

Ten minutes later, David stood on the carpet in his brother’s old room, with three gorgeous women working his dick and balls. Linda had moved to his left testicle, and had it in her mouth, adoringly looking up at him with her lovely blue eyes. Olivia and Wendy took turns sucking his dick, switching back and forth every thirty seconds or so. When it wasn’t Wendy’s turn, she licked up the side of his dick or stole a few licks on his right nutsack.

“I’m going to cum, Mom.” David flexed his hands by his sides.

Linda released his ball. “Get ready for your baptism, Wendy.” Linda nudged the two women to the side and stroked David with both hands. She pointed the head at Olivia and Wendy sitting on their knees. For a brief moment, Linda thought maybe that wasn’t the best idea, as she’d have to clean the carpet later.

David let his mom pull the cum out of him and he blasted on the two younger women.

Linda aimed the dick from one houseguest to the other, and watched them topple and writhe as David’s goo covered their breasts, hair, and generally all over them. Both women cried out in ecstasy.

As David recovered, he watched Olivia and Wendy lick his cum off each other like it was the most delicious thing either of them had ever tasted.

Linda somehow found the willpower to shepherd David into the shower, and then downstairs for a breakfast. She managed to get him off to school in time, but not before she let him have a quick little go at her pussy in the kitchen. She stood leaning by the window, dress around her hips. And David filled her up from behind.

* * *

“Do you have a hall pass?” Margaret Simpson eyed Patrick as he walked by mid-period.

“Of course, Mrs. Simpson.” Patrick held up his pass. It was one of the convincing fakes that Roy had made a while back and shared with his friends. Patrick saved one in the bottom of his backpack just in case he needed to slip out of class. Until that moment, he’d never used one.

“Very well, carry on Mr. Lannit.” Margaret went back to reading her magazine.

Patrick walked down the hall, slipped into the library, and made his way to the stacks in back.

“Over here,” David whispered to Patrick.

Patrick found David leaning against some shelves. The rear of the library had windows that overlooked the parking lot. David’s spot allowed him a view of the yellow, red, and orange fall foliage, while also giving them a good deal of privacy.

“I’m glad you called the meeting. Where’s Roy?” David looked down at his skinny friend.

“I don’t think he’s coming. You still want him here?” Patrick adjusted his glasses, and leaned on the bookshelf near David.

“If he wants to apologize, fine. But if not …” David shrugged. “Anyway, we have to talk.”


“Let me talk first.” David held up his finger to silence his friend. “I should have told you while ago. You know that doll that popped my cherry.” David looked around, but the library was mostly empty this time of day and they had rows and rows of books between them and anyone in the front of the room.

“Yeah.” Patrick nodded and folded his arms, trying to look hip and with it.

“It was my mom.”

“Shit, I knew it.” Patrick hadn’t known it. But he probably should have.

“It was the sweat thing, like Roy said.” David looked out the window, not wanted to look into his friends magnified, brown eyes.

“All the way?” Patrick’s cheeks flushed.

“All the way and then some.” David nodded.

“My mom jumped me last night, but we didn’t go all the way.” Patrick looked out the window too. “And then my sister hopped in the shower with me this morning. But we didn’t go all way.”

“Sally?” David gave a low whistle. “But she’s married.”

“Well, so’s my mom. And so’s your mom.” Patrick frowned. “And so’s Donna.”

“My mom’s been bringing women home to stay in Ryan’s old room.” David smiled a little to himself. “She’s brought two home so far.”

“You go all the way with them?” Patrick watched out the window. Mrs. Rodgers exited the school out of a side door, looked around several times and then jogged across the side lawn.

“Fifty-fifty.” David squinted as he watched the blonde teacher move. She jiggled and bounced awkwardly in her tight swing dress and high heels. “My mom’s breasts are making milk and she’s using it to seduce these women. The preacher’s wife did it too with her milk. She seduced some scientist lady.”

“Jesus.” Patrick shook his head. That was a new twist.

“Yeah, my mom thinks it’s Jesus. But I’m pretty sure it’s not.” David’s eyes followed Caroline Rodgers as she arrived at the equipment shack, looked around again, and then slipped inside. “How much you want to bet that Roy is giving it to his mom.” David’s mouth turned down in disgust, but his dick swelled a little thinking of the trim, classy Mrs. Ackerman giving in to her rude, fat son.

“Speak of the devil.” Patrick watched Roy exit that same side door and head over the lawn directly toward the shack. “He’s doing Mrs. Rodgers isn’t he.” Patrick could see the sweat glistening off Roy’s chubby cheeks, even from all that distance. The dark-haired boy got to the equipment shack and slipped in.

“I think so.” David stared at the shack, thinking about what was almost certainly going on inside. “What do we do, Pat?”

“Well, maybe we track the meteor to its impact site. Then we can get to the bottom of all this.” Patrick took a deep breath. “Moms, sisters, investigators, milk, and meteors. I’m not sure how to sort this all out without finding the source.”

“I don’t want to go back to way things used to be.” David looked back at Patrick.

“Me neither, Pal. But someone has to get to the bottom of this. We’re the last line of defense.” Patrick looked back up at David. He could feel a nervous tick pulling at his right cheek. He’d just had to process a ton of shocking news. Or, more correctly, news that would have been dumbfounding a few weeks ago, but in the moment seemed almost inevitable.

“Okay, I’ll help when I can. But I’m really busy right now.”

“With what?” Patrick pulled his glasses up and down his nose. “Oh.” He stopped and shoved the frames up where they belonged. “You mean …” Patrick’s cheeks went to a deeper shade of red. “Well … well … I guess if you need to spend time with your mother.” It was the wrong thing to say on so many levels. “Just be ready, if I need some help. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure, Pat.” David looked back at the shed.

“Thanks, David.” Patrick looked back at the shed too.

Both boys thought about what sort of perversions Roy must be committing in there with their young teacher.

* * *

“This one’s no good for long-distance either.” Ed Reynolds slammed the payphone down and the clank echoed back to them from the store fronts on the other side of the street.

“What are we going to do, Agent Reynolds?” Helen Bales hugged her skinny frame tight. Her messy brown hair fell over half her face. Her blue dress was wrinkled and carelessly buttoned. She wasn’t used to desperation.

“Excuse me.” A smiling, middle-aged woman walked up to them and stood with her hands clasped. Her green housedress was perfectly pressed and her hair neatly coifed. “I couldn’t help but overhear you. My long-distance is working perfectly. I just hung up with my sister in Chicago not five minutes ago.”

“Okay?” Ed watched the woman suspiciously through his sunglasses. Something nagged at Ed. This woman was somehow familiar.

“You look like a nice young couple. You can use my phone if you need to.” The pretty woman smiled at them.

“Oh, we’re not a—” Helen said before Ed cut her off.

“Thank you, that would be most helpful.” Ed looked at Helen with a slightly raised brow. “Wouldn’t it, honey?”

Helen was just a secretary. She wasn’t used to all this field work. “Yes?”

“My name’s Marigold,” the helpful woman said. “And you are?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds.” Ed didn’t much like using this woman’s phone, but she seemed harmless enough.

Ed and Helen followed Marigold off the main street, down a few side streets, up a walkway, and into a modest bungalow.

“Wait by the door, honey.” Ed left Helen just inside the front door and followed the woman into the kitchen.

“Okay.” Helen watched them go. She looked around her. It was a neat, orderly house. She couldn’t hear Agent Reynolds, but he was probably whispering in his report to headquarters. She wandered into the open living room. The tick-tock of the mantle clock kept steady rhythm. In the corner of the room sat a fine, old sideboard. Sticking out from underneath the closed sideboard doors, Helen could see green fabric identical to the dress Marigold was wearing. Strange.

Helen looked around, but no one was about. She walked up to the sideboard, bent down, and carefully opened one of the doors. Helen’s breath caught in her throat. Gagged and bound and uncomfortably stuffed inside the sideboard was the exact woman that had brought them to this house. Unconscious as she was, this Marigold had her eyes closed.

“Oh, my gosh,” Helen whispered. She quickly closed the door and backed away from the sideboard.

“It’s such a nice living room, isn’t it?” Marigold’s cheery voice suddenly filled the room.

Helen gave a little shriek and turned around. “Um, yes.” Helen trembled all over. For some reason, her vagina wettened considerably when she saw the duplicate housewife standing there. “Where’s Agent … I mean, where’s my husband?”

“He’s getting ready for his swim, dearie.” Marigold stepped into the room and started unbuttoning her dress.

“What?” Helen took a step back but paused. She didn’t want to get any closer to that sideboard. Her heart thumped in her chest.

“In a little bit, he’ll take a long swim.” Marigold advanced further, her buttons now down halfway, exposing the pale skin on her chest and her supportive bra.

“I don’t want to go for a swim.” Helen shivered again. Unconsciously, her arms moved from their folded position over her chest and she cupped her small breasts with her hands.

“Don’t worry, you’re not heading for the lake. My master has other plans for you.” Marigold’s voice continued to be so chipper and friendly. She pulled off her dress and stood before Helen.

“Oh, my gosh.” Helen’s jaw dropped. The middle-aged woman had quite a normal body, except her panties were torn and pushed aside as a giant penis grew from her crotch. The thing was long, curved upward, and dripped fluid continuously from the head. Beneath it there hung two dangling balls. The fat sacks repeatedly compressed and relaxed as if in a constant state of pumping. Helen had never conceived of such a thing, but it was now the most compelling sight she’d ever witnessed. Helen needed that cock inside her like she had needed nothing else in her erstwhile boring life.

“I should tell you, dearie. I am not Marigold.” Not-Marigold stepped up to the brunette and tore Helen’s blue dress from her body with a loud rip. “I am Smith and soon you will know your place here in Portsmith.”

“No,” Helen could only whisper. She stood before this monstrosity in only her underwear, trembling.

Ten minutes later, Helen found herself bent over the couch while the older woman, now called Smith, rammed her huge penis deep into Helen’s womb from behind. “What … ah … ah …. Have you done … to me?” Helen shrieked and brayed as Smith stretched her out. She wondered if Agent Reynolds could hear her participate in this most unnatural mating.

“It is a gift I bring.” Smith still sounded as chipper and amiable as she had when she called herself Marigold. “You now join us.”

“Please … don’t … oooohhhhhhhh.” Helen could feel the penis erupting, spraying molten seed inside her. The last coherent thought she had before her mind drifted off in euphoria was that she was somehow going to have another woman’s baby.

* * *

Donna sat in her car in the parking lot as school was about to let out. Here she was, an accomplished paranormal investigator, wife to the indomitable Mark Farmer, waiting in a line of cars to pick up a high school senior that she, maybe, had started thinking of as her boyfriend. She rubbed her thighs together. Even without any of the mysterious sweat effect, her pussy was wet and ready for the teenager.

The bell rang and Donna pulled the rearview mirror down a little so she could see her reflection. Her makeup was subtle and effective. Her freckled face looked clean and fresh. Her copper hair was pulled neatly back into a ponytail. Everything looked good. She wondered for how long she’d look clean and fresh. Not long she guessed. She adjusted her black-framed glasses and looked back at the school’s doors. A flood of students burst out and into the parking lot.

Within the stream of students, she spotted Patrick and waved. The blue stone in her wedding ring glinting in the afternoon light. Patrick saw her and his little, charming face lit up like the Fourth of July. He ran over to her car, opened the door, and hopped in. He tossed his backpack into the back seat.

“Wow, Donna, you look beautiful. I missed you.” Patrick sat in the seat, his hands in his lap, with all the energy of an eager puppy.

“I missed you too, my lord.” Donna could see that he was a bit shy, so she leaned over to give him a little hug.

“My lady.” Patrick mistook her gesture and planted his lips on hers. They were quickly necking and rubbing their hands over each other’s bodies. Their glasses clinked together on their faces.

The car’s windows didn’t have time to fog up, however, as some angry parent honked her horn at them from behind. Donna pulled away from Patrick, smoothed out her dress, and put the car in gear. “What do you have planned for us, Junior Investigator?”

“I have a lot to tell you, Donna,” Patrick said. “Let’s go somewhere and talk. Maybe the lake again?”

“No, I don’t want some hiker to spot us.” Embarrassment tried to seize her as she thought of who might have seen them in the school parking lot moments ago, but she shrugged it away. “I reserved a room at the hotel this morning, just in case. Let’s go there.” She glanced over at him.

Patrick nodded with enthusiasm. He’d never thought he’d be with a woman who could buy them a hotel room. That was so cool.

A little later, Donna pulled Patrick by the hand through the hotel’s back parking lot. “Mark isn’t supposed to leave his room while I’m gone, but knowing him, he might.” Donna looked back at Patrick with a worry line running down the middle of her forehead. “So, I rented a room on the other side of the hotel. And we’ll go in the back entrance.” Her shoes clicked on the pavement as she walked briskly.

“Sure thing.” Patrick’s gaze kept shifting between Donna’s bouncing red hair, her exposed calves, accentuated by her knee-length hemline and kitten heels, and her round butt, rolling under her tight skirt. “I really think I love you,” he whispered.

“Enough with that talk.” Donna pulled him in the back door, pulled the key from her purse, and dragged Patrick into room number forty-two. They were both starting to sweat after the hurried walk to their room. “Here we are.” She closed the door behind them and tried to lead Patrick over to the chairs so they could talk. But she felt his strong, small hands on her hips, then pressing against her boobs through her blouse, and finally spinning her around and holding her against him by gripping two handfuls of butt. “I thought you had some things to tell me.” She pulled off her glasses and set them on a nearby dresser. “Shouldn’t we talk first?” She looked down at Patrick’s brown hair as he nuzzled her boobs.

“Let’s talk after.” Patrick pressed his erection up against her and elicited an audible gasp from the wife. “Or during. I don’t care.” He leaned up and kissed Donna’s soft lips.

Soon, Patrick was sitting naked on the edge of the bed, his glasses were the only thing he kept on. His cardigan, undershirt, pants, underwear, and socks were all strewn about the room. He looked down at Donna’s pretty face as she bobbed her mouth on his giant dick. She was only wearing a white bra, panties, and her heels. She gagged and purred as she worked him over.

“So … ah … the first thing I should tell you … is that … I didn’t go all the way … with either of them.” Patrick held tightly to the blanket on either side of his hips.

“Wwwwwwmmmmmhhhhhh?” Donna looked up at Patrick with questioning eyes. She kept slurping on his prong. It was clear to both of them that she meant ‘who?’.

“My … uh … sister and mother.”

Donna spat the cock out of her mouth and her hand paused mid-stroke on his shaft. “Get out of town. Tell me.” Her hand went back to stroking up and down, her fingers slick with saliva. Her other hand reached for one of his weighty balls.

Patrick told her everything that happened with both women, emphasizing that he hadn’t instigated either one. He also told her about Roy, David, and the women producing milk.

All the while, Donna continued her handjob. When he finished his story, Donna’s pussy was a sopping mess. She’d never been more ready for sex. “Let’s put a pin in the situation with your family.” She pushed him back on the bed and straddled him, pulling her panties to the side. “I haven’t made any milk. So maybe that is this mystery’s defense mechanism only triggered when in threat. At least we can assume that was Dr. Cobb with the pastor’s wife.” Donna grabbed that fat cock and lined it up with her vagina. She lowered herself down and felt herself stretch to accommodate the monster. “Ooooooohhhhh, Patrick. You’re so thick.”

“We … need to get … to the impact … site.” Patrick placed his hands on her wide hips and pulled her the rest of the way down on his dick.

“It’s not that … easy.” Donna rocked her hips back and forth with a little wiggle to the side. She’d never moved her body like this before she’d met Patrick. “Do you want … to bed your … uh … uh … uh … mother? And sister?” The thought drove Donna wild. Susy Lannit had really given Donna the business the other day. The idea that a woman like that would give in to her own skinny teenager was just too perfect.

“Yes … no … I don’t know.” Patrick felt he could tell her anything, but he wasn’t sure himself.

“Well, I want you … uh … uh … to be happy.” Donna’s hips sped up. She could feel her orgasm approaching. “I’ll be your girlfriend … Patrick … and you can … use that to make … your mother … jealous. If you want her … that’s how you get … her. And just … make sure your sister … hears it all. She’ll come to your bed … too … oooooooohhhhhhhhh.” Donna came on that monster, grinding it deep, deep inside her.

Patrick watched the trembling woman. Could he really have his mother, sister, and this amazing, beautiful investigator? Did he want it all? He did. While she was still cumming, Patrick maneuvered her onto her hands and knees and mounted her from behind.

Within minutes, Donna was shrieking and shouting, “Pull my hair,” and “Slap my ass, my lord.”

“Yes, my lady.” Patrick complied as he railed her. He was learning all sorts of new things. He listened to her cry out each climax and wondered how many people in the hotel were also listening to her.

On the other side of the hotel, Mark was trying to read when he heard shouting coming from somewhere. After a little investigation, he realized it was echoing through the vents. He put his ear up to the vent and listened. He couldn’t make out any of the words, but the situation was clear. Some floozy was screaming her head off during rough sex. Mark smiled and wondered if he and Donna had ever sounded like that. He thought not, but he knew she enjoyed their gentle lovemaking. The woman on the other side of the vent was clearly made of different stuff. Mark idly wondered if she was someone’s wife holed up at the hotel on a clandestine triste. He shrugged. That wasn’t the mystery he needed to investigate. He sat back down and tried to read, tuning out the lovemaking faintly echoing into his room.

Back in room forty-two, Patrick was ready to unload. “I’m … close …”

“Do it … in me … I’m your girlfriend …” Donna looked back over her shoulder at his wiry frame and young, handsome face. Her boyfriend still had his glasses on.

“But … uh … uh … pregnant …”

“I don’t care … oh, please … I don’t care …” Donna tensed as she felt hot cum fill her up. Nerve endings throughout her body exploded with pleasure. She wanted this feeling to last forever. She would let this boy fill her up each and every day. Nothing else really mattered anymore. The mystery, her husband, their other investigations, all of it had now clearly fallen into second place.