The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Stan Van Goet blinked twice and scratched his head where the clips had been attached to his hair.

“You get used to it,” Dave the caretaker said. “The trick is to position the helmet slightly differently each day so you don’t end up with bald spots. Why don’t we go for a walk down to the clubhouse and let the information all sink in.

Stan looked over at Ashley, who lays in a reclining chair with what looks to him like an industrial hair drier from the 60’s on her head, her eyes rolled back showing the whites, and from her open mouth a little drool glistens on her chin. He reaches over and gently closes her mouth and wipes her face with his ‘kerchief.

“She’ll be another good five hours, after today we can get it down to about 10 minutes, but there is a lot to learn the first time out, and it needs to be repeated to be reinforced.”

“It’s her second time,” Stan corrects.

“Right. But the first time was just to make sure that the system would work with her. We don’t do the full treatment until the husband commits to us by finalizing the cabin purchase and going through their orientation treatment.” Dave opens the door and leads Stan out to the patio. “Walk or drive?”

“Walk. I need to get my balance. It’s like a swarm of bees are in my head.”

“It’ll settle down soon. Let’s do some tests as we go. Focusing’ll help.” They start off walking the curved paved path through the tall lush green flowering shrubs and birch. “What are the hours of the dining room?”

“Orders between 5pm—9pm, closes midnight unless by special arrangement.”

“Did you know this an hour ago?”

“Er, no. I guess this is something that the device implanted.”

“Yes, for the owners—you guys get a lot of trivia like this, along with the rules more firmly implanted. You read all the rules carefully and completely?”

“Yes. I mean no, I did scan them...”

“Well now you know them front and backwards. Take a second and think about them—visualize them on the page and read them again in your mind carefully.” After a few more silent steps Dave asks, “Anything there trouble you?”

“No, it’s pretty much what I signed up for. It makes sense that a place like this protects its privacy and the other owners when it has a tool like this.” After turning a corner, he adds, “I guess you probably could make me feel that way, right? It’s why we taped the session and I reviewed it, to make sure nothing else slipped in.”

Dave nods, they’d been through this many times, and after the first few days, these kind of things stop worrying most owners. But to start with, they worry.

“Having everyone follow the rules and not even make unintentional slip-ups is one of the benefits.... speaking of benefits...”

Around the corner come two women, both somewhere between 25 and thirty years old. They walk arms entwined, hips swinging, shoulders rubbing; the brunette is carrying a parasol while the taller blonde chats happily to her friend, who gabs back. Beaming big smiles, they walk over to greet Dave and Stan. Both, except for some very expensive designer sandals, are completely naked and stunningly beautiful. Their breasts aren’t massive, but nicely rounded and firm, their waists slender but their hips broad, with meaty thighs tanned and muscular from vigorous daily nude exercise. Under a thin gold belt on the blonde and a similar leather belly hugger on the brunette small landing strips of pubic fur point down towards their slits. Small green backpacks hang loosely over their shoulders, an enamel and gold four-inch wide Rolling Stones “Lips” broach is pinned to each bag.

“Good morning ladies,” Dave calls. “This is Stan, he just moved into number 18 with his wife Ashley. You’ll get a full update on him tomorrow when you do your treatment. Wait! Don’t tell him your names yet. Let’s see if he can guess them.”

The pair look at each other and giggle.

Stan’s sure he’s never met either of these goddesses before, the shorter of the two is as tall as he is, with the medium-sized heels on her open-toed shoes. Long hair flows around their faces, and perfect smiles showing expensive dental work beam back at him. “Bonny Guildorf and Rachael Towers, from number 4. Bonny is this blonde lady, and is married to Ken the owner, and Rachael here is Ken’s secretary/mistress.” Stan sucks in his gut a little and then looks at Dave, “So I have a directory in my head too.”

“Yep, no fumbling for names here.”

“Sweet,” Dave isn’t sure if Stan is referring to the directory, or Bonny, who he’s openly ogling. “What can...?”

“The answer’s in your head too. Remember the forms you filled out about what and how other owners can use Ashley. Well, every one of our trophies have their owners set their access parameters—what they can and will do and when.” Dave reaches out and tweaks Bonny’s left nipple, which causes her to blush and briefly clench her thighs together as he cups her breast from beneath and squeezes. She lets out a contented sigh. “Think about Bonny, for example, and you’ll know.”

“OK,” Stan closes his eyes and concentrates.

“Just relax and it’s come to you, you don’t need to work so hard for it,” Dave suggests.

Stan nods and opens his eyes. The women look at him expectantly. “You regularly go out for walks with Rachael. you’ll stop and say hello to any man you meet. You’ll be friendly and accommodating. You aren’t allowed to fuck, but will give hand jobs, boob jobs or blow jobs to the first three owners who ask when you encounter them while out strolling on the path that circles the Acres. All owners who want to touch you can, in any way they want, but you can’t cum from touch alone though it feels really good, the touch of other folks fingers on your skin gets you cunt-dripping hot within a few short minutes. They can also ask you and Rachael to make out, dance sexy with each other, finger each other, eat each other out, 69, gently to moderately spank each other. In that case you may and will cum, and when doing so will be as loud and expressive as you can be.”

Bonny says, “Yes,” and blushes again.

“And Rachael is the same, but it’s not three owners, it’s five.”

They both nod. “Ken sends us out for a walk when he wants some quiet time for work,” Bonny adds.

“Well I’d sure like a blow job.”

The girls look at Dave. “He’s a full owner now.” Dave turns to Stan, “I’d suggest Bonny, while Rachael tells us how she ended up here in Trophy Acres, and not even a wife at that. It always gets me hot to hear it. She got screwed. Repeatedly. Right dear?”

Just a hint of anger flashes out of Rachael’s eye’s, “Yes Dave.”

“Sure, sounds good. Bonny, a blow job please. Rachael, your story.”

Rachael reaches into the pack on Bonny’s back. She removes a collapsed three legged stool and sets it up on the edge of the path, then reaches in the bag again. Two skin-colored soccer-type kneepads are quickly strapped on Bonnie who leads Stan over to the stool, before he sits down, she unzips him and brings his pants and underwear down to his ankles. As his ass hits the seat, with a loud slurp she thrusts him past her lips all the way to the root, then teases him by rubbing her teeth on his scrotum while fully impaled on his amazed pecker. He almost falls backwards but Dave and Rachael catch him and sit him upright and erect. Then the kneeling Bonny slowly pulls out and just as slowly slides back down his shaft, fondling his balls, while he twists sideways and reaches down for her breast.

Dave comments, “Ownership has its privileges. At Trophy Acres” And he slaps Rachael loudly on the fleshy part of her bum. “Start.”

“This is how I got here,” Rachael begins.

“I grew up comfortable. Not rich like I wanted to be, but looking back we had travel vacations and lived in a safe place. Me and my obnoxious younger brother. Dull, but safe.” Rachael tells Stan, who’s sitting on a stool at the edge of the paved footpath through Trophy Acres leading to the clubhouse. He’s getting the best blow job of his life from Bonny, the stacked blonde kneeling in front of him.

Dave the Caretaker, as he is known (and on-site manager) reaches behind Rachael and squeezes her but cheek. “Rache—how do we start this story?”

“I FORGOT. I’M SORRY. IT’S ALL MY FAULT. I WAS GREEDY AND THOUGHTLESS. I STOLE. I STOLE MONEY. I STOLE HEARTS. I DIDN’T CARE WHO I HURT. I DESTROYED THE BEST FRIENDSHIP I WILL EVER HAVE. I SHIT MY NEST. I WAS AN ARROGANT CUNT. PLEASE, PLEASE FORGIVE ME.”

“Aughgidey”

Stan looks at Dave, puzzled.

“She said ‘Not today’, but your dick in her mouth made it hard to understand.”

Stan nods and thrusts forward a little. He thinks, “Damn that feels good!”

“You’ll get it when she gets to that part of the story.” With that Dave gives her another crack with his open palm across the fleshy part of her bum, and she starts again.

“Bonny grew up next door and we were the close from kindergarten past high school. We’d talk every day, we hit puberty at the same time and started chasing older guys at the same age, 14, the kind of guys with cars and a bit of money for a movie or a bottle or some smoke.”

“My folks weren’t what you call the attentive kind. When I graduated high school, I took an office job and moved out. I wasn’t the greatest at a keyboard, but I was young and pretty and I caught the eye of an executive on the rise. Soon we were fucking regularly, and he got me the job as his executive assistant, which was mostly dealing with the phones and the daily calendar. Soon we were fucking in the office most days after the market closed and there’d be no more orders. We’d go out sometimes, and after a couple of months he was paying for me to live in a much classier apartment than I could afford. The fact that he was married didn’t matter to me. He was so infatuated that if not for his family—two sons, and a daughter—between our Monday and Thursday nights and workdays I’d never have a moment when he wasn’t trying to feel me up or put his cock into me.”

“Then suddenly it all ended. His wife found everything out, and she was the daughter of one of the head shareholders for the company we worked for. The bastard didn’t even give me any money to live on after firing me and kicking me out of the apartment with just the four trunks of clothes and some not particularly expensive jewelry. I was devastated. Alone and confused.”

“Bonny still talked to me every day—even if only on the phone. She’d cleaned up her act, the wild days were gone. She’d found a guy—smart, handsome, rich, her age and one of the nicest guys on the planet. Or at least that’s how she saw him. I AM SO SORRY!”

“Whenever she talks about this she has to apologize a lot,” Dave explains.

“My folks had moved away across the country, and we hadn’t got along, when we were talking at all. My brother was still here and working for a major real estate developer as a junior joe-boy, and he let me sleep on his couch. I hung out a lot with him and Bonny and her boyfriend. I asked my sib to introduce me to his boss, or better yet his bosses boss, to see if I could get an in on working into the same sort of position—or rather positions, that I had before, but he refused, in his words, to ‘pimp his sister like a Tijuana whore’. Which hurt, but looking back at it I was pretty blatant, used too much makeup, showed too much skin to be classy, and hadn’t hid my lofty ambitions to snag a rich guy and spend my days at the gym and shopping and nights at fancy dress galas and such covered in jewels. I just needed an in. I thought that if I joined a snooty tennis club or country club I could meet someone. And my goal wasn’t to be a girl on the side, but the main event. But I didn’t have the dough.”

“One night after seeing my former lover and boss on TV at a museum gala with his cow of a wife I got drunk and was feeling lonely. I seduced Bonny’s fiancée. They were only a month from getting married, invitations sent out, church booked. I AM SO SO SORRY. It wasn’t that hard, we’d been flirty, and he was hot for me. A decent guy, but still a guy, if you know what I mean. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.”

“I woke up hung-over and regretful. I tried to steer the poor schlub back to Bonny, but he was even more racked with guilt than I was. While I was dressing he left to go break up with her, saying he ‘didn’t deserve her love’ or some other crock. Me, I was just embarrassed. I needed to get out of town, and there I made my other bad decision. My brother was always running back and forth to the bank with packages for a safe deposit box there for his job. Sometimes in after-business hours he had to keep these overnight, so had a home safe that I found the combination for in his desk drawer. Sure enough there was an envelope that held cash—about five grand—waiting to be deposited. I took it and packed a bag and lit out for the bus station, I was going to pay it back as soon as I could. I was only borrowing it. I AM SO SORRY.”

“I was waiting for my bus to Atlanta—I figured that was far enough away, when my cell phone rang. I was worried that it was Bonny, or my brother, looking for me from all the damage I had done. But the call display showed an unfamiliar number. It was my brother’s employer, asking me if I wanted to come in for a job interview. My bro had recommended me after all. I pawned my jewelry, replacing the money I had used for the non-refundable bus ticket, and rented a motel room to change into my best office pantsuit, and went to face the music, meeting my brother and returning all the cash. He was really pissed off at me, but I felt that I had done the right thing with returning it all—less than five hours after I ‘borrowed’ it. Then I called Bonny and left a teary apology on her voice mail. Then I straightened myself out and went for the interview.”

“It went great, the duties required are what I was good at doing in my old job, and they had already called my last boss, who had done the decent thing and gave me a glowing recommendation. He couldn’t give me money or his wife would know, but could help me find work. My brother also vouched for me, which was a bit surprising as I knew he was still furious. I had to find alternate living arrangements right away, I didn’t spend another night under his roof. I had the motel room and enough money from the pawn to get through to the first paycheck, and after that—clear sailing.”

“I got along well with the new boss, a bit of a cold fish who didn’t take any interest in me other than as an EA.” After a month they thought enough of me to give me the real job I had been hired for, I was transferred up to the top floor, where the big men in the company have their offices, to work with a senior VP who was working on a new development—it didn’t make sense to me, it was in the middle of nowhere, a pretty middle of nowhere, but not close to any major city and with houses in the ranch style, smaller than the proposed client demographic would normally like. Small kitchen but a gourmet dining room in the clubhouse with a semi-famous chef in charge. And a lot of security. ‘There are other features,’ my new boss told me, ‘Don’t worry about it.’”

“It wasn’t long—within a month I was being bent over the desk in his office getting ‘dick’tation, or giving him a relaxing after-lunch blow job. He was a widower, and a divorcee from his second marriage. I insisted that if we were going to have sex, he’d have to treat me as a serious girlfriend after business hours, and he did. We went out regularly to eat or see movies, and soon enough he was also paying for my apartment. He even told me that we might be married someday, though he didn’t say when. And the development deal—the first five houses and some common facilities were slowly reaching completion.”

“Bonny hadn’t forgiven me. I had taken her friendship for granted. I AM TRULY SORRY. She was hurt and very angry, and wouldn’t even speak to me on the phone. At least my brother would talk to me, though he peppered our conversations with snarky digs and sneering comments. I was seeing more of him at work as shortly after I started he was given a big raise and promotion to work on my bosses deal.”

“Things seem to have turned around. I was happy with my job and content with my lover and boss, earning almost double what I was before and saving money, and if I played it right, I may get a ring and a house out of it, even if I signed a pre-nup. But often I felt hollow. Bonny had been like a third lobe of my brain, a big chunk of my heart, a consistent and loyal friend from before we even started grade school. I missed her worse than any guy I’d ever fell for. I heard from my brother that she and her boyfriend never got back together—I called him up one time to tell him to go to her, but he just sobbed at me. He had fallen into the bottle hard, and was in rehab in California last I’d heard.”

“We weren’t exclusive, I knew my boss was going out with other women. I kept his work calendar, but he never trusted me with his personal one. One day he had this weird machine in his office—looked like a hair dryer, but with a control panel that had all sorts of gauges and dials on it. He told me that it was time to take our relationship to a new level. Or end it. Shit, I didn’t want to lose my job again. But the machine looked scary, and he wanted me to sit under it while a bunch of personality tests were done to ‘see if we are compatible’.”

I thought it a bunch of scientific mumbo-jumbo, but he called in a technician and sat through it first. The usual boring questions. Then it was my turn. They asked me a bunch of things, I don’t really remember them, but it was over soon enough, and I didn’t feel any different, though I was a lot less scared of the machine, I felt as though it had relaxed me somehow.”

Dave interjects, “The first session with the treatment is to see if the subject can be made comfortable, even eager to get back under the helmet. We were in early days then and still seeing what it could do.”

Just then Stan blows his load down Bonny’s throat with a mighty grunt. She licks him clean and then sits on his knee, his pants still down around his ankles. He reaches his arm around her waist and fingers her tit while she snuggles in closer.

Dave gives Rachael’s ass another slap to start her talking again.

“He told me that it would take another week to get the results. In the meantime my boss seemed distant, I blew him a couple of times, but he didn’t really seem into it, like there was something on his mind. We were in the final week of construction on the big project, down to landscaping and installing the tennis court equipment, filling and testing the pool, stocking up the clubhouse and the kitchen for the dining room, hiring a three-star chef, that kind of thing, so I wasn’t too alarmed, we were so busy. Exactly a week later he dropped the bomb, I’d failed the tests. Not only that but he was engaged to be married. Then he introduced his fiancée who was waiting in the outer office—Bonny!”

“I guess I confessed all my sins the week before while under the machine. All about stealing the money. All about seducing and abandoning my best friend’s lover. All about my ambitions to find a rich guy to marry and later take to the cleaners, or at least chip a big chunk out of his pile. ALL ABOUT HOW I’M SUCH A HORNY GREEDY, HEARTLESS PIG WHO’D FUCK A DOG TO STEAL HIS BONE. I AM SOOOOO SORRY,” she sobs.

“I hadn’t seen Bonny in three months, and it wasn’t until then I fully realized how I missed her so. I threw myself at her feet crying and begging forgiveness. My boss turned to Bonny and asked, ‘Do we go through with this?’ and she nodded.”

“’OK,’ he said. ‘You can stay on as my secretary and mistress. We are going to live—at least part of the year—in the new development. All the first cabins are going to our executives, with a large apartment in the clubhouse going to the community’s live-in caretaker/manager.”

“That’s me,” Dave chimes in.

“’Bonny, will you forgive me?’ I asked. ‘How can we live together when we aren’t talking, it’d be torture.’”

“Ken interrupted, ‘We’ll work it out. Bonny’s promised to try, and I can assure you that will happen. I’m now trained on how to use this thing, and we need to test ourselves to see if we are compatible. I did mine earlier today, and I have a second machine here so I can do both of you at once. If it all works out we’ll give it a shot.’ He turns to Bonny, ‘Are you sure you’re ready? Last chance.’ Still not speaking, she nods and sits under the first head dome. I’m filled with dread, but I’m willing to give it a try if it’ll mean I keep my job and repair my friendship, so I slip under the other. It wasn’t as scary as the first time, almost friendly looking, as I remember the relaxing feeling at the end of the session.”

Stan has regained his erection in Bonny’s hand, and she slips back to the ground and nestles it between her tits, pressing them together around it, then starts to slowly rub up and down between his legs. Dave has his hand firmly squeezing her ass globes. “She has great buns,” he says.

With another butt slap from Dave Rachael starts up again, “At first it looked like things were going to be ok. If no one mentioned anything to do with her fiancée and my betrayal, it was like she was forgetting about it and we were the best of pals again. Later I learned she really was forgetting it.”

“It wasn’t until we got to Trophy Acres that I realized the full extent of what I’d agreed to. We were going to officially open the clubhouse with Bonny and Mr. Guildorf’s wedding. I can’t use his first name anymore, it’s Mr. Guildorf, Sir but usually Master Ken these days when no outsiders are around. I was maid of honor, in a beautiful low cut puffy blue dress scooped low at the back revealing the top of my butt, and at first everything seemed normal. Except that my brother was there, as the best man. All the cabin owners and their wives were there too, all executives I worked with on the top floor, most had leered at me one time or another. Their wives were all dressed up—formal sexy is how I’d describe it. Lots of flesh on display in designer clothes. And all of them ten or more—sometimes many more—years younger than their husbands. I was the only mistress there, though there are five of us now. And I learned later that all were second or even third wives, childless and very pretty. Some were pixie short, some amazons who had spent a lot of time in the gym. One had a lot of tattoos. For some reason I even found them all hot, I couldn’t keep from leering at a couple of them, which made them blush.”

“I really realized that we weren’t in Kansas anymore when Bonny and I were waiting to walk up the aisle, and one of the groomsmen ordered us both to bend over, just as the music started. Bonny let out an “Ooop!” beside me, then I felt my dress being lifted and panties pushed to the side. A second later this slick bulb was stuffed up my bum, and I was helped upright again. We walked slowly and uncomfortably down the makeshift aisle with butt plugs rubbing our sphincters, our dresses hiked in the back to show everyone.”

“The minister turned out to be the CEO, he replaced the bride kissing the groom instruction with her giving him a hummer right there at the makeshift altar on the podium. And Bonny did, without hesitation while the guys hooted and hollered and the ladies looked on with a mix of fear and lust written on their faces. One old goat commented to another how much he liked his neighbor’s wife and was looking forward to getting to know her better. The other man then whispered in his spouse’s ear and she went over and sat on the admirer’s lap facing him, her legs outside his.”

“My brother and I were still standing beside the bride and groom as he finished in her mouth, then declared the bar open. At least then they removed the plugs. Good, I needed a drink. The table with the couple on the chair rattled slightly as she bounced up and down slowly—they were trying not to be noticed, but her back or her elbow would bump the table with each thrust hidden under her party gown. But instead of heading to the bar, I went into the men’s washroom. And to my horror I offered a blow job to the first owner that entered. Which he happily accepted. By the time he’d finished there were two more waiting in line.”

“It’s a big washroom, you may have seen it already, with a low couch and even a shower stall. One of the waiting owners dropped his pants and lays on the couch, ‘Climb aboard,’ he said pointing to his hard-on and I did after dropping my panties, which the other waiting guy scooped up and threw in the trash. The disposal went down a chute to an incinerator and when it hit a puff of warm air came back out.”

I had my eyes closed in what felt like ecstasy, for some reason I couldn’t quite focus on who I was with, whose cock I was riding, then I heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and shortly afterwards felt a creamy protrusion enter my ass. It wiggled about—a finger. Soon it was replaced by something slightly bigger, all while slowly going up and down on the prone gent underneath me. I’d never had both a dick in my cunt and another in my ass before. Well there’s a first time for everything.”

‘Someone called out, ‘Hey, the bride is giving blow jobs,’ and the two who are into me both speed up. My eyes still shut, I gasp open when my nostrils are pinched shut, and soon I have a cock in my mouth as well. I’m not going to say we all came at the same time, but it was pretty close, a conditioning the treatments had set into us. I opened my eyes to see the CEO, CFO and VP of Sales grinning down at me, dicks out and sloppy. They happily follow me over to the sink where I give them all a gentle wash with soap and warm water, then a pat dry, helping them dress. Or at least that was my plan.

A VP had come in for a whiz, and has an idea. At first I feared he’d piss on me, but they hadn’t thought of it—at least not that night. Instead he went out and returned with a cart from the kitchen full of condiments and canapés, a stream of mayonnaise soon decorated my face, looking like a long line of cum. Mustard and strawberry jam soon follow, flung by the CFO who called, ‘Target practice!’, the mess running down my dress through my tits and sticking like glue. My hair clumps with chocolate sauce and they pour warm hollandaise sauce down my scoop back into my ass cheeks. I was always pretty uptight about being clean, and there I was a food covered mess dripping with different colored creams and spices from my hair, from my face and all over my body. Some of the bigger and more solid items—pastries and hors d’oeuvres they had tossed at me left small red bruises. I start to cry.”

“’Stop that!’ the CEO barked. And I did. ‘Get out of that dress and have a shower, we can’t leave you dirty for the next person who wants to use you.’ Then, ‘You’re all hot and horny, so writhe and moan when you are feeling humiliated, cum, but not too often. Beg to suck and fuck every man who comes in. Think about how much you enjoy this and writhe, rub yourself all over when you are not being used.’ Leave the cart here, suggest that they get you all sticky again and rub it in, then shower for them. Cold water only so your nips stick out and you get gooseflesh.”

“The CEO and VP head back into the main room, while the CFO watches me shower, giving instructions like, ‘Now your tits’ and ‘more lather on your cunt hairs’. He then has me throw my thousand dollar dress down the incinerator, and I spend almost the rest of the night naked servicing everyone who comes into the Gents. And getting messy as I was drenched with stuff from the cart. I don’t orgasm every time someone came in me, but it must have been the most I’d done in one night—up to that point. They don’t feed me, I’m hungry and was left eating with my hands the remains of the condiment cart and off my skin, my hands shake and I drip sauces and such all over myself, then scoop then into my mouth or hop back into a shivering shower.”

“At one quiet moment I peek out, thinking they’ve forgot about me, hoping to slip away at least for the rest of the night.”

“On his way to the to the Gents is my brother, who sees me and takes my hand. ‘Just who I was looking for. Having fun?’ I begged, ‘Please...’, and he replies, ‘Good. Lots more to cum, if you get the meaning.”

“He led me to the front of the banquet room, where Bonny lies impaled on the CEO’s dick, moaning and shouting in orgasm. She’s lying on a filthy towel, it’s obvious that she’s been servicing the owners one after the other all night. At least I had a wash. Her eyes were crazy looking, not panic or ecstasy, but somewhere in-between. I passed several of the other wives with their fancy party clothes in disarray, some sitting on erections, some sucking them, at least one with a carrot from the salad up herself and frigging away.”

“The CEO finishes and helps Bonny to her feet. Her hair is a mess and she’s gone blank-eyed, and then turns to me with a look of hate, ‘This is all your fault’, she says. And lurches towards me.”

“’STOP!’ my brother says, and she freezes in place, ready to pounce like a tigress. ‘Kiss and make up,’ he adds. ‘I AM SO SORRY,’ I say for the first time that day. I say it a lot now. Then we kiss, a passionate but not friendly lounge probing sloppy buss, her eyes still show hate and it’s rough and tastes like sperm, a lot of it, and I start to get sticky again as our naked chests rub the man-cream from her tits on mine.”

“My brother announces, ‘Ken’ll have to live with these two former best friends, and so Bonnie will forget her grievances against Rachael—legit though they are—unless reminded of them. And when that happens Rachael will immediately apologize, loudly and with all her heart.’ Otherwise they’ll get along like they did at 16.’”

“The CEO picks up the speeching, ‘I know some of you are asking, ‘So, why does Ken get to go from no wives to two lovers?’ Good question. Rachael here is more like—like communal property. Most nights she’ll be available in the ‘On Deck’ room for a discount 50% Trophy Points rate, first come, first to claim her. She’s a seed for selling additional cabins, and you gents are all invited to add a mistress on the same terms. Dave here...’”

“’That’s me,’ said Dave, my brother.” With that Rachael turns from Stan and looks at Dave who’s grinning widely and nods back at him in confirmation. “Dave waves and acknowledges the crowd, now all the guests are looking up at the podium.”

“The CEO adds, ‘We are rewarding Dave with a new job, on-site manager and caretaker. He’ll have to abide by the same rules as the owners as regards to the Trophies, but as he isn’t married or have a woman, half all the mistress fees will go his Trophy Points account, same rate as everyone, one full point per night for ‘On Deck’ wives, half a point for mistresses, points bidding without going into debt on auction nights. But as half-owner of Rachael, she’s free for both him and for Ken, just like your own wives are and any of your mistresses.’”

“’But he’s my brother,’ I cried.”

“Some owner shouts, ‘Prove that he’s with us, seal the deal. Give him a blow job. Here, in front of us.’ And I feel Dave pressing me down to my knees, where he says, ‘Get busy. Do it right. Make it wet and sloppy, let them hear you slurp at the back of the room’ I moan, ‘No’ as his stiff pole pops between my lips and soon I am giving my best head of the night. I’m drooling with spit as my saliva glands work overtime. Seeing this he says, ‘As you drool above, you do so below,’ and my cunt starts dripping too, making my thighs wet and stinking up the front of the room with the smell of female. He pushes all the way in and out again, my lips getting all the way to his balls, gurgling with each breath and giving his pecker a real spit bath and soon enough he’s spurting down my throat with an instruction to ‘Swallow then cum, but let some dribble out so they can see’, and sure enough I have an orgasm as it slides greasily down me into my tummy. Flash bulbs go off and I see a few of the owners have their cameras out, preserving the occasion.”

“Dave lifts me back to my feet, I’m feeling a little stunned, but it’s not over. ‘Head back to my apartment,’ he instructs, ‘and have another shower. You can use hot water, I’m not totally peeved at you. Then take a towel and some lube from the bathroom and sit on the cloth on the couch and watch the TV until I come back from cleaning up here. I’m going to start with your ass, so make sure you are lubed up good, two fingers wide and two fingers deep.’ He held up his pointer and index fingers in a gun-like gestured. ‘And if I’m not there in fifteen minutes, relube. And every fifteen minutes until I get there.’”

“’Dave, for god’s sake...’ I start, but he slaps me on the ass and says, ‘Get going.’ and, ‘Swing your hips more when you walk.’ Which I do.”

“The warm water feels good, and the shower massager loosens all the muscles that have started to ache from all the activity, but soon enough I was on the couch lying prone with a couple of fingers inserted, and then delicately sitting on the towel with the remote in my hand. I wanted to smash his place up. I wanted to throw the remote and break the TV, but all I did was watch. The first channel was an instructional video on how to give a blow job. The second an old porn movie from the 70’s where the women all had very hairy snatches and there was a lot of girl-on-girl action. I found myself lost in the screen watching, even drooling a bit again, coming to when they cut away to a new scene. I changed channels to see a CCTV of the dining room, most of the guests had gone—with each other’s wives I’d assumed, and Dave’”

“’That’s me.’”

Rachael looks at him in annoyance, then shame, “I AM SO SORRY. Dave is cleaning up, instructing the wait staff, who seem to be oblivious to what has gone around them. I guessed then that they also had some of the treatment.” Dave nods.

“Three lubes later there he is, and I meekly bend over the couch and he entered me in one swift thrust. Not the first of the night, but the biggest. HE MAKES ME SAY THAT! And pretty soon he’s spent a load up my bum, and he goes for a shower. I’m left with the TV and he comes back, and I ask, ‘Why?’”

“’You know why, you selfish thieving bitch,’ he replied. ‘Time for our first fuck. Suck me hard first.’ I tried to interpret this in a way that would hurt by sucking as hard as I could, but even that wasn’t working.’

“I woke up sore in the morning, and had to walk naked back to Master Ken’s cabin. Bonny and Ken were still asleep and I found myself fixing them breakfast in bed, and eating Bonny out while she reclined reading the morning paper. Her cunt was still slightly coated with many men’s cum from the night before, she’d only done a quick wash before bed, and I tasted it all. And I’ve been here since, working as Master Ken’s personal secretary during the day, making myself available in the ‘On Deck’ room most nights when Master Ken or Brother Dave...”

“That’s me.”

“Doesn’t want to use me. The only good thing is that Bonny and me are back—most of the time—to where we used to be, I AM SO SORRY—I hadn’t realized how much she was part of my heart, how much I threw away in one angry drunk night. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.”

Bonny’s expression changes to rage, “Not yet, whore,” and then she goes placid again. “There, there dear.”

Dave turns to Stan, “Do you want to fuck her now? It’s not part of her orders, but I can make it happen.”

Stan asks, “She’s pretty much always available most nights?”

Dave nods and grabs Rachael’s ass, “Bet you’d never expected to be the town pump.” He gives it a squeeze and a jiggle. She giggles involuntarily.

“Later then, I have Ashley to deal with when I get home, and I suspect the tour isn’t over.”

“Right you are! Continue on ladies!” Dave commands with another ass slap, Rachael’s bum is starting to glow a bit red, not much, but darker than her skin. “And for the rest of your walk, Rache, you’ll become more and more curious on ‘does Bonny’s cum tastes any different today than yesterday?’ But you can’t ask to eat her, she has to ask you. And when she cums, you’ll start wondering if the second load tastes better than the first.”

With that the ladies start packing their bags back up, Rachael helps Bonny redo her make-up from a kit in her bag, and they start down the paved lane, happily arm-in-arm, chatting away heads together like two parakeets, and then getting waved over a few hundred yards along by a passing owner in golf dress heading for the private Par-3 nine-hole practice course. “I guess they’ll have to caddy this morning,” Dave observes. “I predict more than a hole in one. And some extra ball washing.”

Dave looks over at Stan, who’s gone quiet. “You think that we treat them a little harsh?”

“Well, yeah, maybe. I mean they’re pretty hot—Rachael has the best thighs I’ve ever seen outside a thanksgiving drumstick, big and meaty, but somehow just right, and Bonny is pretty close behind, maybe better behind. And they are both stacked without being saggy. I can see why the corporation wanted them here. I want to fuck ‘em both. But she’s your family... Isn’t that weird, somehow?”

“Let me tell you about it, she still kind of skims over it when she tells it. She and Bonny were like a two-headed beast growing up, finishing each other’s sentences, swapping clothes and boyfriends, living in their own world. I’m a couple of years younger and they were always getting on me and everyone else. I never need to hear “Mom, Dave’s masturbating in the bathroom!” again, even when I wasn’t, or “Mom, Dave’s sniffing my panties” or worse, “Mom, Dave’s sniffing your panties”, even when I wasn’t. They’d sabotage my dates and laugh about it. They’d play pranks on me and my friends, even setting up fake dates and hurting feelings left and right. They teased me flashing boobs and butt and then laughing at my boners. Classic mean girls.”

“But she was family, and my folks both worked and were tired and distant when home. So when she came to me for help after her job exploded in a slutty mess, I took her in. And one day the CEO came up to me and asked me about her. They were looking to recruit Ken Guildorf and he wanted a cabin, but he’s not the best looking guy, and is pretty shy. So he needed a Trophy Wife—well at his salary we were half way there, and were looking at our secretary pool, but it had become pretty picked over from some of the other guys. Treatment and training takes a certain type to work smoothly. Lazy, slutty and over-privileged works best for our Trophies. A bit stupid too—or at least lazy about thinking. And loose “don’t care” family ties. Both those girls qualify in spades.”

“At the same time Rachael was bugging me to get an interview at work—she was on the prowl for a guy to take care of her, to use and abuse the way she did to me as a teen, to get hot and bothered, then dump for alimony after a few years, or better, pass on and leave her everything.”

“I knew what would happen if these two forces met, and I still felt a little protective, so I turned the CEO down—though I thought it would ruin my career. But then she stole from me and ultimately the company, and broke her best friend’s heart. That was it, we had to work fast. I got her the job interview as she was about to flee town on the bus with a bag full of our money. She got off and went to the interview, and only then when it seemed to go well did she come tearfully back to me with the cash. She always gets that part backwards. Interview first, return money and apologize to Bonny second and third.”

“We tested her on a lower-level executive, until it was clear what her plans were, and then moved her in on Ken. Sure enough, she was perfect.”

“But Bonny had found out about her being still around and was hopping mad. Her guy had totally collapsed, and like Rachael, she’d put a lot of work into setting the poor rich bozo up. She had even got a hold of some acid and was going to throw it at Rache to scar her. We found out and intercepted her in time, and proposed an alternative to her, to steal Rachael’s man away instead, and have Rache humiliate herself as his secretary. She agreed—it seemed a better plan than prison—and we made it happen. Bonny and Rachael took the treatment, it worked for both, and so here we are today. Bonny didn’t know the full implications, but none of the wives do in advance, do they? So we let Ken have two women—well one and a half—in exchange for letting us do some extra treatment testing on joining the firm, and soon he was getting more nookie than he ever had in his life. And he adjusted his own treatment to lose 15 pounds, you can do that, though consult with me or Dr. Bobbin in cabin 9 first on how to do it safely. Plus Ken improved the P/E for the company within three months, which made the shareholders really happy. And my reward for bringing Ken and the two into the ‘Acres’ was this job, no suit or tie, tons of naked flesh including Rachael, and a hefty raise in salary.”

“Most of the wives are treated better, more like beautiful classic luxury cars, prized possessions to be shown off and pampered, then taken out for a spin. It’s pretty much the lives they were looking for, just more extreme. That makes the treatment much more effective. Rachael and Bonny are different though.”

“Once both of them show some humanity—Bonny by forgiving Rachael and Rachael to admitting to being such a bitch and treating people better we’ll ease off on them—the order of her story is one test we use. As I said most Trophies don’t have it so rough, and are mostly getting the lives they thought they wanted. But until Bonny and Rache get over it, part of all the treatments for all the owners and the wives include a small thrill at humiliating the pair. And they in turn get off on being embarrassed.”

“Do you know what Ken gave Bonny for her last birthday? It’s what she asked for. Jewelry? A new car?”

“No.”

“He let her spank and slap and pinch Rache until she was a quivering mass of tears. Bonny still has a way to go on forgiveness. Still, most of the bruises were gone by the next day.”

“It gets better—of course the whole thing was videoed and when Bonny had a birthday party with some of her friends the next week they watched it, while Rache, dressed as a Hooters Girl in daisy dukes and a braless halter served them food and drinks and taking their abuse. All through this the other women pretended to be each other’s husbands on the tear, copping feels and making rude remarks as she tries to fill their orders. Most of the wives had thought about being actresses at one time or another and have had some theatre improv training, so it’s a real hoot when Cora Bobbin pretends to be Joe Abacrombe from accounting pawing “the girl” and spilling drinks across her tits while making crude jokes—pretty funny ones too, and when Sue Fitch loosens her belt and starts a belching contest as Dr. Bobbin. ‘Moaning’ Mona Dunleavy even pretends to be me and slaps Rache’s ass—a lot! The tape of it still gets played at the occasional smoker.”

“Rache is our great recruiting slut, we put her in with a prospective owner, and sure enough we get him hooked. She also has been trained to be an expert kisser and carpet muncher and multi-sex lover. Get her over this week and send her to loosen up Ashley—a lot of the wives don’t have a lot of bi experience, but Rachael fires them right up and it’s a treat to watch how the treatment makes them act like the hottest lezzie porn stars on the planet. It really is so much better when their brains turn off a bit and they just relax and enjoy. We don’t have any hard core sadists here—we screen them out because we can’t predict how they’ll react to the treatment, but we do have a few owners that stiffen to see some red faces and ‘oh my god, how could I do this and why do I like it?’ looks. Truthfully, after a few months the real appreciation is in being able to stay out all night playing poker at the clubhouse or setting off for an early tee time on the golf course without the nagging, as much as the warm and beautiful selection of compliant bed-fellows. Oh, and always having it your way. That and just being able to tell them to shut up without the tears, or the discussions about ‘feelings’. The guys have always been married before, some real horror stories there, so they have a deeper appreciation for the system.”

“With five mistress class gals there’s pretty much a good selection of fresh hot fish taco in the ‘On Deck’ room every night, and some guys just want to send their familiar tuna there to swap for some hot new mahi-mahi. Most of the original owners keep an apartment in the city, but stash their wives here, and for the most part they live pretty similar day lives to most trophy wives, gym exercise, lunch, shopping, beauty salon, we’ll see all of these today, but with the added bonus of a kind of polygamy that comes from a shared cuze coral. We do like to keep their motors warmed up and running when we’re around, if you know what I mean. It makes them so much sluttier. And the treatment on the guys helps with both our pleasure and recovery time. Plus making everyone careful about birth control and VD and other similar hazards. No kids here at TA, if the owner has a previous family, they visit him elsewhere. All visitors have at least one treatment session before entering the grounds to ensure their discretion. Same with staff.”

Stan adds, “and the treatment aids concentration and productivity at work.”

They both nod knowingly, making the company more profitable is a very, very good thing, this is something all the Trophy Acres owners can’t help but agree on, to the deepest core of their being.

“That too. We’re headed for a stealth fortune 500 rating if we keep going the way we are. Come on, let’s have a pick-me-up at the clubhouse.”

“OK,” Stan gives Dave a thoughtful look. “I don’t think it was just a coincidence we ran into those two.”

“Figure?” Dave replies. And laughs.