The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kimmy swore as she fumbled with her phone and tried to keep the car on the road at the same time. Ahead of her the Chrysler town car turned down a quiet suburban street shaded by evergreen oaks that lined the curbside. She couldn’t believe it had come to this but the unbelievable actions of the dubious trio she was in hot pursuit of couldn’t go unanswered.

She had recorded the whole thing.

Not with video, obviously. Nothing would have given the Asian honors student away quicker than opening a door to the darkened changing room and allowing the bright noonday sunlight to alert the suspects to her sneaking presence but she had captured the audio.

She wasn’t stupid after-all.

And Millard and those strange, impressive women weren’t even trying to be quiet, perpetrating their perverted misdeeds at full volume in the deserted sports center.

“...way you desire. Choke me if you wish. Be as rough as you want. Dominate me with your mighty strength. I will take all of it and beg for more. I was crafted and honed to be a vessel for your manly passions!”

The recording was a bit muffled but the words were clear and intelligible. They hinted at something sinister to Kimmy, had Levi joined some kind of BDSM sex cult on the weekend and got all juiced up on the Kool-Aid?

It wasn’t that she cared a wit for the simpering wimp but her cold Machiavellian mind recognized a threat when it appeared on her social horizons and none of the improbable physical or behavioral changes in Mill-tard made any logical sense.

She skipped ahead in the recording to the part that puzzled her most…

“Do it Daring, show me how much you love me! Cum for your Lioness!”

“Faaaaark~!”

…then, buried deep in the white noise and ambient static as Kimmy cranked the volume to the fullest through her vehicle’s high-end speaker system, the faintest whispers of a lilting soprano voice singing.

The language wasn’t English, Korean, Spanish or German—all of which she was more than passingly familiar with—but sounded distinctly, seductively Slavic. The words were indistinct but the emotion and emphasis behind each sultry syllable made her porcelain skin prickle with chilling apprehension.

Kimmy shuddered and turned her focus back to her quarry as the silver Chrysler pulled into a long winding driveway.

All the cookie-cutter abodes in this middle-class neighborhood were basic one or two level constructions of the common burnt brick or weatherboard design. Many of them backed onto the lake shore with the obligatory white picket fences with the paint peeling off the palings.

So the sprawling stone manor home stood out amongst the older residences like a sparkling crystal decanter among the milk bottles to kimmy as she rolled past the imposing iron gate.

Her thin eyebrows arched as she took in the gigantic quartzite and aged cedar structure. It spoke of luxury and money with well kept gardens and hedges, tall arched windows and Corinthian columns holding up wide sunlit balconies. It loomed over the quiet neighborhood like some feudal lord’s keep and the property ran all the way back to Lake Springfield where a long floating dock spiked out into the clear waters as if to claim those too.

There were even two statue lions carved from granite, roaring ferociously atop the wall on either side of the gravel drive.

Why the hell was there a nice place like this hidden on the wrong side of town?

She killed the engine of her sporty Honda Civic in the shade of a large oak and adjusted her mirror to watch as the town car parked at the top of the circular driveway. The over-inflated and undressed chauffeur bounced back onto the scene to open the rear door again and Levi unfolded himself from the passenger side with the spectacular blonde practically hanging off his side and molesting the younger man with her roaming hands.

He essentially carried her—this ‘Alina’ from the recorded conversation—through the imposing double doors of the palatial home with no sign of difficulty. He dwarfed both women with his tall rangy build, rugged muscles and a thick mane of tawny hair that had all appeared out of nowhere overnight.

They disappeared inside the house and Kimmy took a deep resolute breath before pulling her black shoulder length hair into a business-like ponytail. She wasn’t suitably dressed for an afternoon of suburban reconnaissance. She had foregone any cloaks or daggers today in favor of a little floral romper belted neatly at her skinny waist. It was light and swishy, chosen for the warm weather and the way it showed off her immaculately thin profile rather than possible camouflage potential, but she could at least replace the cork-sole gladiator sandals with a pair of white running shoes she kept in the back seat.

Taking one last look around to make sure the coast was clear Kimmy typed out a quick message on her phone and attached the audio file before hitting send.

She wasn’t stupid and about to go creeping into the lion’s den like the only culturally diverse cast member in a cheap horror flick, destined for a bad end too early in the script...

Funny thought that. Why did the term “lion’s den” spring so readily to mind?

Levi pulled his hair back out of his eyes and frowned in confusion down at the cardboard moving box.

Candy.

An entire supermarket confectionery aisle worth of candy wafted saccharine sweetness back up at him and assaulted his flaring nostrils with syrupy prejudice.

Chocolate bars, jaw-breakers, lollipops, caramel toffees. fairy floss and everything else besides glittered with a crust of sugar crystals like diamond chips, reflected the glaring fluorescent overhead lights back into his squinting gaze. It was a riot of bright and pastel hues, representing the vast color spectrum from soft pinks, purples and peach to vibrant yellows, reds and white.

...and gum. Why was there so much goddamn bubble gum?

Levi felt sticky just looking at it.

All of it was neatly bagged, sealed and tagged with complicated alphanumeric codes which Levi was growing less and less inclined to decipher as his increasingly complicated task of cataloging and arranging the mish-mash of random crap wore on his fast-fraying patience.

The box before this one had contained no less than four remote controls—one half melted as though by an electrical malfunction—which he had tossed carelessly onto the garage shelf designated for electronics, an oversized wishbone in a lead lined jewelry box and a bunch of ancient eight millimeter film reels of unknown origin or content.

“It does this old widow’s heart no end of good to see her beloved Darling working so diligently on her behalf.” Alina crooned from the doorway, her voice dripping with honeyed promise as she preened prettily for Levi’s pleasure. “Such a burden of worry you carry for me, like Atlas bearing the weight of the heavens upon his shoulders.”

He turned at the sound of her rich, sonorous voice and grumbled with desire, the busty blonde knock-out had changed clothes again since returning home. His irresistible Lioness was now sheathed in a stark white, tight midi-dress which pulled taut across her impressive bust and hips, barely brushed the tops of her sun-kissed thighs with a v-neck that plunged to dangerous depths, and only contained her mountainous melons by the mystical workings of some dark magical arts.

“These boxes aren’t very heavy, Love.” Levi said a little bashfully. It was true though, he was lifting the piles of clutter as though they were stuffed full of feathers. “But I am beginning to question why you want to hang onto all of this. Most of it looks like rundown old junk.”

He gestured at the hodge-podge items that now filled over two-thirds of the racks and shelves lining the long back wall of the vacant four car garage. The luxury town car Alina had mysteriously acquired remained parked out front.

“Only most?” Alina’s usually vibrant green eyes looked almost silver-gray in the washed out lighting and they twinkled with an odd blend of hunger and excitement. “Has something caught your interest then, Darling?”

She wetted her plump strawberry lips with the tip of her tongue and played nervously with the loose golden braid hanging over one slim shoulder.

“Um, not really. There’s a whole steamer trunk stuffed full of women’s clothing that could be useful to someone, I guess.” He shrugged noncommittally and almost popped the shoulder stitching of the second collared shirt she had gifted him today. ”Seems a waste to just leave it lying around if you’re not going to wear any of it.”

Levi gestured to a large piece of black leather luggage inlaid with brass studs, clasps and handles he had pulled off to one side. The thing probably merited a two person lift on size alone but like everything else today, he had shifted it without any difficulty. A cursory investigation had unboxed a wealth of feminine intimate apparel of the highest quality and scantiest cuts with the store labels still attached. Some of it was from a fashion outlet called ‘Female Designs.’

Never heard of it but all that silk, lace and satin looked expensive…

“Are you saying that you want me to wear that clothing, Darling?” Alina’s springtime scent was saturated with smoldering arousal gently spiced with unease. “I will if you ask it of me—”

“That’s not what I’m getting at here,” Levi tried changing tack and nudged the diabetes-inducing box at his feet with the toe of his polished leather oxfords. “Look at all this for example, who wants to eat decades old candy? I don’t understand why you are holding onto a lot of this stuff.”

The mature blonde sighed and it wasn’t clear if it was in relief or regret, but it did interesting things to her bouncy bosom that set Levi’s hair-trigger dick to hardening in his pants once again.

The smell of her divine pussy was incredibly potent and he was certain that his gorgeous lover was wet and ready for him beneath her carefully composed exterior. He began to stalk towards as his amped-up balls started to pound like jungle drums.

“You are right, of course, my Lion. You are wise as you are mighty, and humble this sentimental old woman.” Alina hung her pretty head and unshed tears tinged her words. “Much of this belonged to my dead husband, a brilliant man whom I loved dearly. But perhaps your Alina clings too much to the distant past. Tell me to dispose of it and I will… for you.”

That stopped Levi in his tracks and he was mentally preparing to mend some fences with his sexy neighbor when a small squeak from outside one of the dusty high-set windows caught both of their attention.

Alina’s gunmetal gaze shot upwards and Levi spun to see what she had spotted but only found a swaying tree branch scratching against the glass pane.

“What was that?!” He snarled, baring his teeth. His body had instinctively dropped into a low crouch, coiled like a tense spring with fingers curled ready to claw at an intruder. “Did you see something?”

Then a delicate hand stroked through his thick mane and tickled the small hairs at the back of his neck, immediately soothing Levi. His bunched muscles relaxed and he leaned into the warm touch as Alina caressed his broad shoulders and strong back.

“Be at peace, my protective Lion. It was just a common pest,” Her richly accented voice said calmly and he slowly straightened, realizing that—for the first time he could remember—his golden-haired paramour was standing inside the garage with him. “Nothing for you to fret about.”

She had overcome some unspoken terror or phobia that had kept the radiant blonde physically distant from the dusty reminders of her past life. Levi well knew those feelings and the psychic cage they trapped people in. She had fought through it to calm him with her tender touch.

“Alina, you did it.” He said, picking her up in a tight embrace of wordless acknowledgement of the small but important milestone. They stood surrounded by countless relics of her troubled past. “You’re here with me.”

“I have always been here, Darling.” She smiled radiantly up at him with silent tears staining her flawless cheeks. “I will no longer hide from my past but walk forward into the future with you at my side, if you will have me.”

Her dainty hands wrapped around his wide waist and ventured down towards his butt as Alina snuggled deeper into his powerful arms and smooshed her phenomenal cleavage against his barrel chest. Levi could feel her bullet-hard nipples pressing through the white fabric of her little dress and raking his rocky flesh. His manhood snapped back to parade-ground attention.

“Forever and always, Love.” He murmured, kissing the top of her head as the beautiful Russian minx began to squirm lustily in his arms and kneed his unyielding ass like stiff bread dough. “What’s next for us then?”

“Hmmph~! You have seen straight to the right of it, my Lion.” Alina moaned in dissatisfaction as she extricated herself from his grasp with a visible force of will and nodded primly at the moving box full of fossilized candy. “Throw that garbage outside and I will see that the clothing finds a suitable home.”

She clicked across the cement floor in her seven inch heels and hoisted the hefty trunk over a shoulder in a remarkable display of athleticism for one so slender in build. Levi gaped for a moment before coming back to himself.

She was his Lioness after-all…

“That much sugar will attract rodents, you know. The local raccoons are going to throw a rave party—”

“And does a true lion concern himself with the movement of rodents?” She challenged sharply with steel in her gunmetal gaze.

Levi purred internally at the proud defiance in her eyes and picked up the stinky box of sickly-sweet goodies

not bothering to hide his jutting ramrod which was threatening to rupture his slacks.

“Not at all, Love. It is as you say…”

Kimmy cursed herself for a clumsy fool as she crouched behind some flowering Azalea’s.

Stupid, stupid, stupid… her own reckless curiosity nearly got her caught.

Scoping out the grandiose manor house had been surprisingly easy. The well kept gardens and hedges offered no end of suitable hiding places from whence to spy through the many tall windows and glass fronted doors. The open layout of the vast home was designed to welcome in natural light and, incidentally, the scrutinous stare of Kimmy herself.

Everywhere but the garage where that idiot Mill-tard had sequestered himself soon after arriving.

So after she had watched the fat-titted parody of a chauffeur change into a fat-titted parody of a maid flouncing uselessly around the lavishly-appointed house—waving a feather duster and flashing her bare olive ass each time she bent over—for entirely too long, Kimmy had focused her attention on the mystifying Alina.

The regal blonde had spent an infuriating amount of time in simple quietude, reading a book of all things, while gracefully reclining on an antique shezlong in her sun room and occasionally sipping at a glass of red wine.

She was posed like an oil painting—her lustrous hair in a perfect golden cascade over her impressive breasts, still clad in the sapphire velvet ballgown—and Kimmy wasn’t certain how long she had gazed upon the captivating view until the gorgeous vision had finally stirred from her afternoon repose.

It had been like waking from a dream and she had needed to scurry under the cover of a long hedge to keep eyes of Alina as she glided towards the front of her home.

She must have drifted off in the warm sunshine because the older woman had somehow changed out the evening dress into an off the shoulder, figure-hugging white number that showcased off all her mature assets like an gallery exhibition of feminine perfection.

Then Alina had reached the large stone garage and Kimmy had lost her. The four automatic roller doors were securely shut and the only visible windows were narrow panels set high above ground level, securely out of reach. But there was a solid-looking elm growing a few feet away, with wide boughs that appeared navigable…

That was when she had the foolish idea to climb said tree.

It had been an uncharacteristically stupid decision and Kimmy had no sooner found a perch from which to peek into the dinghy outbuilding when the statuesque lady in question had looked directly up at the window and nailed her with a cold steely glare.

Kimmy had dropped from the branch immediately and almost twisted her ankle upon landing.

It hadn’t been a very dignified scrambled for cover, and she had waited for the hue and cry but none had come. Now she was squatting behind an admittedly lovely flower shrub and trying to recall what she had seen in those precious few tumultuous seconds before falling.

The overachieving college girl had a nearly eidetic memory; the ability to vividly recall an image she had been exposed to for a brief period of time. It was just another demonstrable truth that set Kimmy high above her academic peers and served her well at that moment as she closed her dark eyes to concentrate.

There had been the garage. Empty but a long row of packed metal shelves along the back wall and a pile of cardboard boxes, wooden crates and other storage containers piled high in a far corner. Levi had been standing there, holding Alina in his arms with his back to Kimmy. The older woman had been staring up at him adoringly and saying something when—

Crash!

“Shit! Don’t know my own strength sometimes…”

Kimmy ducked reflexively at the startling clatter and peered through the pink and green foliage to see what was the matter.

The side access door to the garage had slammed open and was shuddering on its hinges from the forceful impact with the masonry behind it. Levi stood there, filling the doorframe with his powerful physique and carelessly tossing aside a large box as he hurried to check on the abused condition of the wall.

The cardboard split apart as it hit the ground, spewing forth a rainbow of festive colors. Kimmy’s nose twitched as an entire candy store’s worth of saccharine odors wafted past and her stomach decided this was a good time to remind her that it hadn’t been fed since breakfast.

“Phew, it’s fine. Gonna have to be more careful around doors in future.” Levi grumbled to himself, testing the swinging action of the hinges a few times to be sure before heading back inside. “What a fucking day I’m having…”

There was the distinct click of a deadbolt being thrown after the door closed behind him and Kimmy crept cautiously out of cover to inspect the discarded wreckage.

The answers had to be in the garage, her gut feeling was sure of that fact. Why else would Millard be spending so much time in the most secluded place on the property? Then she inspected the dazzling cacophony of sugary treats and Kimmy was struck by a wave of light-headed dizziness.

She was no stranger to marathon study sessions and low blood sugar was a thing when one prioritized lofty intellectual pursuits above the basic physical demands of their frail mortal shell.

Picking up the topmost item, Kimmy recognized it as a common, if off-brand, ring pop. The crinkly cellophane packaging labeled it as a GobSmacker™ and was light on manufacturer details or nutritional information but the electric purple candy diamond had to weigh over two hundred carats in sparkling crystallized dextrose.

Evidence. Kimmy needed scientific and perhaps even legal evidence of whatever weirdness was going on in this strange house. Lamenting the age-old lack of decent pockets in any remotely fashionable women’s clothing—her phone was already occupying one half of her modest bra—Kimmy ripped open the packaging and slipped the toy ring onto her middle finger.

It swam loosely on her dainty digit and she had clench her fist to stop it from sliding off. It wasn’t ideal and Kimmy had always hated candy jewelry almost as much as the cutesy girls at parties who sucked on the idiotic things.

Stupid basic bitches thinking they looked hot for having something closely resembling a baby’s pacifier shoved in their stupid whore mouths.

Though it did smell deceptively appetizing, like the world’s largest glazed cherry, and more importantly; it was tangible evidence.

As were the dozen or so lemon drop necklaces she strung about her neck and the three slim wrappings of pink flavored BubbleUp™ gum she tucked into her perky cleavage, just to be sure. She had snorted in derision at the last hurried acquisition. What was ‘pink flavored’ meant to taste like anyway? Pink was fucking color.

It just went to show that people were generally morons and would buy just about anything. Kimmy’s future in advertising had never looked so bright.

Suitably bedecked in her ill-gotten spoils, she checked her surroundings before sneaking off to further investigate likely nefarious undertakings going on in the tranquil Springfield suburb.

Kimmy sheltered behind some rather lovely Hydrangeas and checked her phone’s battery life.

It was hovering at just over sixty percent and no new messages had come in. She sucked thoughtfully at the ring pop in her mouth and glanced back up at the rear of the large manor home. No new developments or appearances from Millard there either.

She had needed to put the GobSmacker™ somewhere as she operated her smartphone. The damn thing kept spinning on her skinny fingers and making everything sticky. It was a toss-up between throwing the incriminating sucker away or giving it a new home in between her teeth.

Kimmy was glad that she had chosen the latter option in the end, for sound logical reasons.

Firstly, her blood sugar woes were assuaged for the time being. The dizzy spells that too often led to irrational irritability and the ignominious hand tremors were gone. Secondly, she had functionally preserved an important clue. Only after reasoning that if they were harmful in any regard then a spineless square like Millard wouldn’t have just thrown them out where the local neighborhood fauna could have fed on them.

Lastly, and this was totally not important at all, the amethyst rock candy tasted really good. A bewildering bouquet of cherry (or was it grape?) seeped into her taste buds and turned her tongue violet. She had checked, using the camera in her phone as a makeup mirror, and even her lips were turning the same shade of a certain television dinosaur that children enjoyed watching.

Shit but kids were stupid. Singing stupid songs with a capering fool wearing a stupid dino costume.

Kimmy pulled the ring pop from her mouth and smacked her lips a few times. They felt tacky, glossy with a syrupy sweetness that made them tingle. She hoped there wasn’t anything too chemical in the obviously artificial flavoring agents. Weren’t they supposed to list those on the packaging with like, numbers and stuff?

She narrowed her pretty almond eyes at the princess cut candy crystal glued onto the plastic loop. It didn’t seem any smaller and the hard edges remained sharp despite her constantly licking tongue so she couldn’t have been sucking on it for that long…

It was probably fine.

“Kitten, come on me in the kitchen please.”

What the hell?

Kimmy’s head shot up from behind the flower garden like a meerkat alerted to danger.

The suspiciously beautiful Alina was strutting about the large kitchen, still attired in her form-fitting white midi dress with the off shoulder sleeves that left her slim neck and clavicles bare to the afternoon sun. Kimmy had a clear view of her through the folded back french doors less than twenty yards away as the beguiling blonde stood with one stilettoed foot crossed in front of the other like a runway model, bent low at the waist and retrieved a large glass mixing bowl from the bottom cupboard shelf to set on the polished marble countertop

“I am here, Mistress.” The explosively voluptuous Latina squeaked, tottering into the spacious room on her perilously high platform heels and practically bouncing clean out of her ludicrously undersized maid uniform. “How can I assist you?”

There was such a thing as too many bows and frills, Kimmy concluded scornfully as she watched the olive-skinned tart skip her way over to the ravishing blonde, the gauzy petticoats of her flaring skirts fluttering and exposing far too much of the bubbly nakedness beneath.

She shoved the GobSmacker™ back into her hungry mouth and sucked at it with visceral disapproval. The sweet taste was somewhat calming as her lapping tongue rolled over the purple gemstone.

“Kindly unzip me, girl.” Alina ordered perfunctorily, turning to one side to reveal the ruffled back of her tight dress. “Perform your duties adequately and we might put your earlier unruliness behind us.”

“Yes Mistress. Thank you so much, Mistress.”

Kimmy watched as the simpering slut stepped up behind her so-called Mistress and pulled down the zipper. Alina seemed to breath out a long held breath as she let the snowy fabric fall from her shoulders and released her full braless breasts.

They were like two heavy teardrops of supple, gravity-defying flesh. Twin perfect spheres that sat high and perky on her skinny dancer’s frame without a hint of sag or outlines of blue veins that such size and weight usually wrought. They swayed hypnotically as she leaned over the mixing bowl and planted her hands on the far side of the polished kitchen counter.

Kimmy almost crushed the rock candy between her jealously grinding teeth at the sight of them.

“You may begin, Kitten. Remember, do as I taught you.”

Begin what exactly?

The spying coed’s unspoken question was soon answered as the buxom maid leaned over her lewdly exposed Mistress, reached both arms around the mature beauty’s slender sides and grasped a ripe raspberry nipple in each hand.

The position left Kitten molded to the taller woman’s back with her own extreme endowments pancaked between them and their knees docked together. Then she pressed down on the dangling titflesh in her palms and squeezed…

This time Kimmy nearly dropped the sugary treat out of her slack jaw when two lines of white liquid shot into the glass mixing bowl. She blinked in disbelief, hardly crediting what she had just witnessed until the softly mewling maid drew out two more jets of creamy lactate into the container below.

Milk. That was honest to goodness breast milk. What the actual fuck was going on here?

“Does that feel good, Mistress?”

“Hmmm, yes. You may apply more pressure now that my flow has begun. Good Girl.”

Kimmy fought to regain some clinical detachment as she observed the milking maid shudder and moan in an obviously sexual response to the condescending praise. Was that an instilled Pavlovian response or maybe a trained trigger word?

Either way it was an alarming discovery.

She delved in her bra for her phone to record the troubling scene before her. It was so difficult to remain objective and think clearly when her lilac-stained lips prickled and throbbed in distraction. Now was not the time to be having an allergic reaction.

Kimmy jerked the GobSmacker™ from her tingling mouth at the same time she yanked the damn phone free of her pale cleavage, lost her grip and sent it flying into the decorative shrubbery. Worse still, the fucking sun was shining dead in her eyes and she lost track of where it landed.

In a childish fit of pique, she hurled the offending candy pop after it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. This wasn’t like her at all! She was usually so cool and collected in both temperament and conduct. Other people made stupid mistakes like that. Never her…

She reached up and gently probed her inflamed lips. They were puffy and swollen but not tender or sore, just a little… sensitive. Sticky too. Kimmy was already beginning to regret throwing the novelty sweet away as her empty belly voiced its displeasure at the rash action with a serious grumble.

“Mistress is sooo~ generous and kind to her Kitten. I’m very grateful for all your instruction but do you think Master will fuck me soon? I want to please him so badly.”

That outlandish question dragged Kimmy’s attention back to the problem at hand. Or perhaps ‘in hand’ might have been the better turn of phrase, if the curvy Latina’s squeezing fingers were any indication.

The glass bowl was already a third full of sloshing milk and there didn’t appear to be any end to the golden-haired goddess’s creamy bounty. She hummed in prurient appreciation as her massive udders were milked and arched her lithe back like a drawn bow in unadulterated pleasure.

“That is entirely up to him, Kitten, I would not dare attempt to tame such a ferocious Lion to my command.” Alina purred as another half-cup of rich lactate jetted from her rubbery peaks. “To do so only invites failure and painful reprisal. My Darling is growing wild and free, finally casting aside the constraining fetters that have bound him, and becoming that which fate and providence have denied him for far too long.”

“I don’t understand Mistress. I adore the feeling of Master’s perfect manhood stretching my virgin throat and basking in the heat of it when I wrap my big boobies around it. The taste of his hot cum is delicious, like vanilla pudding, I can’t get enough,” The gasping maid sounded needy, desperate. Even as she began to grind her dewy hairless mound against Alina’s pert butt and stain her crumpled skirts in her freelowing nectar. “But doesn’t he want to fuck my poor aching kitty raw? Am I doing something wrong?”

“Not at all, little one.” The gorgeous blonde cooed in misty-eyed delight, pushing her toned ass back into Kitten’s double-wide bucking hips as more of her milk splashed into the bowl. “Serve him. Venerate him. Give all of yourself to him. Love him as I do and be a good girl—”

This time Kimmy missed the full body climax that tore through the olive-skinned servant’s hourglass frame. She was busy sucking on one of the many lemon drop candy necklaces draped around her neck.

“—And my Lion may eventually recognize your value. Then he will pin your soft body to the bed, or bend you over the furniture as you clean, maybe even press you up against a wall so hard that you struggle to breathe as his Masterhood threatens to split you apart.”

“Yes, Mistress. Please YES! I want it, I need to feel my Master inside of me!”

The yowling maid was quivering like a bowl full of jelly, splayed out over her Mistress’s narrow back. Alina didn’t appear to mind the curvy girl’s weight and continued to clap her tight tooshie back into her as more milk ran from her pendulous chest.

A lot of it was missing the bowl and puddling on the marble counter.

“Good girl. What a good little Kitten you are, now cum for your Mistress.”

“Yaaasss Miiiistreess~!”

Kimmy’s dark eyes bulged as the writhing maid locked up in full-body spasm and orgasmed powerfully on command in the middle of milking the spouting blonde.

This is sheer horny madness, she thought. Sucking harder on the Lemon drop necklace as though that would aid her concentration.

It didn’t.

But the bumps and ridges of the candy jewelry felt like a soothing balm to her bee-stung lips, even if the acidic citrusy taste threatened to bleach her calculating mind clean of investigative aptitude. Each pastel yellow sugar bead had an individual letter on them and spelled out the word ‘B-L-O-N-D-I-E-S’ on repeat around the loop of stretchy cord.

Kimmy nervously nibbled on letter after letter and tried to wipe the sticky residue off her hands onto her breezy cotton romper. It didn’t really help and the floral print took on a greasy rumpled texture wherever she touched it.

Glancing back inside the kitchen she saw Alina straightening back up and tucking her immense bosom back into her figure-hugging midi dress. The glass mixing bowl in front of her was brimming with rich, white milk.

“Come zip me up, Kitten. Then fetch sugar, cocoa and gelatin from the pantry. Today I will teach you how to cook something very special.”

The busty maid looked up from where she was bent over the countertop with her thick rump poking rudely out from beneath her obscenely short, swishy petticoats and slurping up the spilled cream with a pleased smile.

“Of course, Mistress. Thank you for the milk and the lesson.”

Kimmy was back amongst the Hydrangeas, scrabbling about on her hands and knees searching for her lost phone.

It had been around here where she dropped it, right? There were a lot of garden beds full to bursting pretty, pretty flowers around this big, big house and she was feeling a bit lightheaded from being out in the warm sunshine for so long.

Gosh, she had to be careful not to get a tan. She was proud of her pure porcelain complexion and didn’t want the sun to fade her shiny black hair.

At least she wasn’t hungry anymore. Kimmy had been a little surprised to discover she had eaten all the confectionery jewelry around her neck. Because hadn’t she taken like, a whole bunch of those lemon necklace thingies?

No matter, she knew where to find plenty more and right now the self-appointed P.I. was content to chew and snap the pink flavored bubble gum she had so cleverly stashed in her bra.

…and it WAS pink flavored after-all, and wasn’t that like, totally weird?

The precise flavor was difficult to describe. Kinda like candy apples but also marshmallows too? One bite could taste like fairy floss while the next fizzed on her tongue like zesty sherbet. All of which combined together to create a unique flavor that was undeniably pink.

Kimmy gave blowing a bubble a try and was rather pleased with the result.

Her plump, pumped-up lips formed a perfect, pouting ‘O’ shape and buzzed pleasantly as the rubbery gum stretched past them to inflate into a pink flavored ping pong ball before bursting and coating her violet stained lips in elasticated sweetness.

She was pretty good at that. Of course she was, she was good at everything. Wasn’t that kinda the point? She was big-time smart and everyone else was stupid.

Kimmy blinked a few times and looked around in befuddlement. She was sitting back on her heels and staring vacantly at the pink and purple flowers around her. Why was she digging up the garden beds again?

It was dirty work and Kimmy didn’t like dirt. Like, not at all.

It clung to her sticky skin and soiled romper in ugly swatches of gritty brown. She sucked her wad of gum in annoyance then blew another bubble.

Pop!

Golly but that felt nice on her juicy lips and calmed her frustration a little. She tugged at her loose neckline to move some cool air around. The afternoon sky was clear and growing warmer. Kimmy could feel a flush of heat spreading across her modest bust as she puffed a stray caramel lock of hair out of her face.

Caramel lock? That couldn’t be right. The heat must be getting to her.

She needed to find, like, cool shade and somewhere to clean herself off before she started to sweat. Being both sweaty and sticky would be too much icky grossness for one day.

Standing up and looking around she noticed a quaint gardener’s shed not too far away. It actually looked more like a small rustic timber cottage with a gabled roof and shuttered windows tucked behind some trellis covered in climbing pink Mandevilla vines.

The flavor pink was, like, totally everywhere when you really thought about it, Kimmy mused as she absently blew another bubble and trotted off towards shelter.

Pop!

Levi was tucking the dust rag in his back pocket when he wandered into the kitchen. He had hoped to find Alina or Kitten there but wasn’t too worried. What he wanted most at that moment was something cool to shrink and maybe a snack.

Moving dusty old boxes tended to parch the ol’ throat and work up an appetite.

The cooking space was immaculately clean as always. Alina kept an impeccably tidy house and with the addition of Kitten with her ever-present feather duster, that task was only getting easier. Levi was glad his beloved Lioness was getting help with the chores. The home was rather large and she was the only one person.

The stainless steel fittings and fixtures all gleamed and shone while the marble and glass was as spotless as a showroom display. The six burner stove looked as though it had never been used and everything was in its proper place. The young man appreciated the orderly nature of the house in general as an anxious personality, it was soothing to know that things were as they should be.

Except Levi hadn’t taken his medication in days. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he returned home. Home being his overworked mother’s place down the street, not here in this palatial residence where he was playing lord of fuckboy manor with the intoxicating Russian widow.

But he must have gone home at some point. Levi had gone to college this morning with his textbooks and supplies all neatly arranged in his usual satchel bag. His mother worked demanding hours as a sales manager for a global export and supply company which meant they could go for days without face-to-face contact. They often passing each other like ships in the night but surely…

Levi’s internal meanderings slowed to a halt as an enticing odor tickled his sensitive nose.

It was the cock-stirring spice of feminine arousal and something sweeter. Something richer.

Something creamier.

Sniffing about like a hunting hound and licking his chops, Levi followed the scent trail to the large double-door fridge and carefully swung it open. He was learning to be mindful of his new-found strength.

It was entirely empty, featureless glass shelves bare but for a single large mixing bowl sealed with plastic wrap. Inside it was a familiar milky pudding topped in a layer of chocolate ganache. Levi frowned, trying to remember the last time he saw Alina cook or consume anything more involved than a cup of coffee or the occasional glass of wine.

All that came to mind was the delicious Ptichye Moloko which silently beckoned at his rumbling stomach from within the unoccupied cooler. Setting aside all other concerns for later consideration, he lifted the surprisingly heavy bowl and set it on the center kitchen island before tearing off the filmy covering.

It glistened enticingly up at him and Levi practically drooled over the delicious treat before lowering his face and gently lapping at the top chocolate layer. The mild earthy bitterness of the cocoa paired perfectly with the milky ambrosia below it and he dug in deeper, submerging his stubbly jawline into the gelatinous mass to ravenously grunt and gulp down great mouthfuls of delectable dessert.

His hands were planted firmly on either side of the glass dish, which had to hold at least six liters of the creamy delicacy, as he worked his shaggy head from left to right to lick up the sides of the mixing bowl and capture all he could on his rough, elongated tongue.

It stuck to his rugged cheeks and furry chin, it caked the lower half of his face in a beard of gooey white goodness shot through with streaks of chocolate brown until, finally, it was all gone and Levi purred out a deep rumble of satisfaction.

His stomach felt stuffed full and a warm sensation of drowsiness began to wrap him up in its blanketing folds. Soft hands touched his back as he swayed on his feet and comforting arms wrapped around his broad torso to guide him gently to the cool tiles of the floor.

“It’s okay, Master. Everything will be fine, just as the Mistress said it would be.”

“I am here, Darling. Rest easy and let your beloved Alina sing for you…”

Then a gentle, lyrical tune filled his ears and, safe in his mature lover’s arms, Levi surrendered to the siren’s song of sleep.

Kimmy scrubbed her hands and legs at a chipped basin inside the gardener’s shack.

She had such lovely legs, pale and slim, tailor-made to slip into a pair skinny jeans or flash teasingly below a short skirt line. Right now, however, she was toweling the dirt off her knees with her wadded up romper.

The floral one-piece was barely more than a grimy rag after the day she was having and Kimmy wasn’t looking forward to putting it back on again once she had tidied herself up again. So she stood there in her modest white bra and cotton panties, trying to get the dirt out from under her expensively manicured nails and sort out her next plan of action.

That second part was taking some real effort as she sucked distractedly on her fat bottom lip then blew another bubble.

Pop!

The shed was a surprisingly tidy little setup. Shiny new garden tools either hung from pegs or were neatly arrayed along the wall, and a four-stroke self propelling Briggs and Stratton mower sat unused in the far corner. The small bathroom had been a welcome discovery, a single porcelain toilet and basin were plumbed into the concrete slab with a tarnished mirror cabinet mounted above the latter.

The homely little space just needed more pink…

She had kicked off her sneakers soon after entering the dimly lit workspace since they were making her calf muscles sore. It was a persistent tugging ache in the tendons above her ankles that was only relieved when she walked up on tippy toes.

Kimmy was missing the strappy gladiator sandals she had left in her car with their three inch cork heels. They were way sexier and less painful than those boring old running shoes.

At least the stickiness had been dealt with. A worn down sliver of old soap had donated its final remains to the cause of cleanliness and now the young Korean coed’s skin shined like a fresh off the lot sports car. She curled a silky lock of strawberry blonde hair around a twirling finger as she marveled at how rubbery smooth her alabaster skin looked under the single hanging tungsten bulb.

Blonde hair?

That couldn’t be right. Blondes were stupid, there were whole libraries stacked with books filled with jokes about stupid, stupid blondes. Kimmy was super smart and that meant she couldn’t be blonde. That was, like, totally logical and stuff.

What was she doing here again?

Oh that’s right, she was cleaning herself up then heading back to her car to put on some heels. Except, as she looked about, Kimmy wasn’t sure what had happened to her keys. Or her phone for that matter, and that seemed really important for a reason she couldn’t rightly recall.

Pop!

The feeling of the gum smacking her plush sensitive lips sent a warm shudder through her lithe barely-legal body and chased the pesky concerns away. It was as though each new burst of a pink flavor bubble was another problem in her life popping like a pricked balloon animal and releasing a misty cloud of endorphins into her super-smart neuroplastic brain.

Kimmy tugged on her cushiony bottom lip experimentally and had to suppress a lurid moan as she clamped her skinny thighs together at the delicious bolt of pleasure that grounded itself in her twitching nethers.

Well, that was something new.

She wasn’t a sexual creature by nature. Kimmy kept a small vibrator, barely larger than the AA battery that powered it, stashed at the back of her underwear drawer for the rare occasions she required relief. It was pink too now she thought about it. But those occasions were rare indeed, and most of the time she only engaged the sex toy once or twice a month for women’s health reasons. Always achieving a quietly satisfactory orgasm by clitoral stimulation alone and never penetration.

If Kimmy had that little buzzer on her now, she would have pressed it to her succulent lips and unraveled like one of Nan’s Christmas sweaters.

She shook her head to clear the candy colored haze of lust pervading her thoughts, loose strawberry curls swatting her in the face as she did so. None of that was helping matters.

The shadows outside were growing long as afternoon plowed inevitably on towards sunset and Kimmy was standing half naked in a gardening shed getting all hot and flustered when she should be doing… what exactly?

A small seed of panic sprouted in her flat belly as she looked about for any clue or inspiration. Her simple cotton bra felt tight with anxiety, making it hard to breathe. She needed answers to questions that refused to take coherently shape in her fizzling mind.

Grabbing up the tatters of her clothing she rubbed furiously at the years of dust and grease obscuring the ancient cabinet mirror. The face that slowly came into focus was powder white with large almond eyes and violet bee-stung lips, all framed in a halo of thick golden hair tinted with pastel pink highlights.

Kimmy stared at in shock, scarcely recognizing herself and watched in dread fascination as a tiny spherical bubble bloomed from between her reflection’s puckered lilac pillows, grew to the size of a tennis ball and then…

Pop!

She moaned and trembled at the scintillating sensation of the gum splattering her thrumming violet lips. It felt warm and wet and sweet, sending sinful signals down to long neglected parts of her body and stirring dormant desires she had actively ignored.

The girl through the looking glass giggled soundlessly and winked at Kimmy. She looked cheerful, like she didn’t have a care in the world as she slowly, sensually, sucked and licked the sticky pinkness back into her pretty mouth.

Kimmy soon realized she was giggling too. Giggling was good, why had she thought it so stupid before? Feeling good felt good. There were no two ways about it. It was cause and effect… whatever that meant.

Words were hard sometimes, long words especially… Finding something hard and long was fast growing in importance to Kimmy’s effervescent mind. Even if the exact nature of that mysterious something was still unclear to her.

Then the smiling reflection nodded at Kimmy and looked pointed past her at the rear corner of the shed. The freshly bleached Asian spun on her toes to see what she—her mirror image—was fixated upon.

A huge black leather steamer trunk, studded with brass, sat shoved up against the timber plank wall behind her. The shiny latches were unfastened and the heavy lid was ajar, revealing a treasure trove of delicate silks, supple leather, frilly lace and luxuriously thick furs.

Much of it was in her new favorite flavor too.

Had that just been sitting there the entire time?

Pop!

A breathy gasp was quickly followed by a naughty giggle as Kimmy dropped her ruined romper in a wet heap on the cement floor and tip-toed over to sneak an itsy-bitsy peek at her latest discovery.

Kimmy had a few very important decisions to make. Like, some super duper tough choices that she couldn’t decide on…

The one in front of her right now was between a leopard print chemise minidress with the criss-cross back or the neon violet latex micro-skirt and matching bustier top with the fluffy pink trim on the strapless sweetheart neckline.

Which was hotter?

It had been a long arduous road to winnow her outfit choices down to these final two. After an hour of unpacking armfuls of mega cute garments, the gardener’s shack looked like a lingerie store, a rave and a nightclub had met for a high-stakes game of strip poker which everybody lost.

Shovels and rakes served as impromptu clothing stands for faux fur bolero jackets and slinky bodycon slips made of wet-look synthetic fabrics in a riot of colors. The tool pegs on the walls now dangled with racy fishnet stockings, translucently sheer underthings, plus enough jewelry and accessories to bedeck a cohort of glamorous party-goers.

Even the lawn mower was surrounded by a growing forest of sandals, boots and pumps exhibiting a variety of heels, none shorter than four inches tall.

Kimmy longingly eyed an ultra-cropped peach shrug draped over the chrome handlebar. Peach was very close in hue to another color she was, like, totally into at the moment, maybe she should reconsider?

No. It had taken her ages and ages to narrow her options down to two and now it was growing dark outside. It was just sooo~ confusing when everything looked super sexy and perfectly fit her one-size-fits-small figure. She turned back to her fashion finalists, stuck her tongue out in thought, then blew a large pink bubble…

Pop!

The smack of the glossy gum on her plumped-out lips made Kimmy shiver and squeak in delicious delight. It never failed to send sizzling static bursts through her trembling frame and down to her pretty pink pussy. She had started sucking on her index finger some time back during the agonizing decision-making process too. The sliding sensation across her purple pout was almost too much to bear but, simultaneously, far too good to stop.

Like tonguing a sore tooth, but only if prodding the oral ailment made your painted toes curl and knees go all wibbly-wobbly.

Sorry sexy leopard print, but the first place goes to neon violet combo. The way they showed off her skinny midriff was, like, totally hotty hot and it would look amazing under the fuzzy panda print hoodie hanging next to the line trimmer thingy.

Silently congratulating herself for making the crazy tough call, Kimmy marshaled all her considerable smarts to face the next issue. Her underwear problem.

The boring white panties hugging her cute tooshie were so weighed down with her dribbling nectar that they sagged wetly off her narrow hips and her yawn-fest of a bra was growing insufferably tight across her big swollen boobies. The snowy polyester cups were no longer up to the task of supporting her tingling tits and the clasp in the back was one sneeze away from snapping like a fiddle string.

Kimmy wasn’t stupid, only a total dumb-dumb would miss what was happening to her body. The swelling in her lips and chest, the light slick of perspiration making her porcelain skin all shiny and the troublingly blondish shade of hair…

She was having a whatchamacallit reaction to something she ate. Duh!

What exactly it could have been she couldn’t rightly recall.

Pop!

Funny thing though, Kimmy thought as she giggled through another thigh-clamping quiver, each time one for her yummy pink-flavored bubbles burst, it felt like the escaping hiss of blown breath rushed straight to her tits. Inflating them like a pair of alabaster airbags.

As if that were physically possible. What a fucking stupid idea.

Well, smart folks didn’t sit around whinging about a few scratched elbows and skinned knees. They turned lemons into lemonade. Winners kicked ass, took names and chewed bubble gum.

…and Kimmy had a whole lot of bubble gum.

Peeling off her obsolete cotton bra and panties, she took a few steps back to examine her naked body in the mirror and nearly fell backwards into the open steamer trunk as she wobbled on her tiptoes.

“Woops! Watch out…”

Catching her balance on the rough timber wall, Kimmy straightened up and blew her reflection a kiss. She was fine and didn’t look bad at all, nothing to worry about.

Except maybe the hair.

Her strawberry blonde hair kept bringing to mind all the stupid bimbo jokes she had heard in the past. But she wasn’t, like, completely blonde and the pink streaks were pretty cute, right? Otherwise the instagram duckface she was now perpetually pouting was totally sexy, and the two expanding fleshy spheres bolted to her chest didn’t appear ill-affected by the incremental enlargement.

They felt as big and buoyant as weather balloons. That was a bit weird but lots of girls wanted bigger boobies, didn’t they? Her tiny brown areolas were stretched as large as silver dollars and the nips felt twice as stiff.

A brush of her fingers across them coaxed out another heartfelt groan of lusty yearning and a single glistening line of her girl-honey leaked down her rubbery smooth thighs.

Kimmy’s clever fingers slid across her toned belly and gently toyed with her dewy pink folds as she sank down to sit on the toilet seat. She could take a quick break while she picked out undies, shoes and accessories… couldn’t she?

Her dark eyes flicked back to the massive steamer trunk. It was still over half full despite the massive arrangement of slutty clothing, scanty lingerie, strappy footwear and glittering jewelry covering every surface and object, surrounding her like a supply dump from Victoria’s Secret.

She certainly had plenty to choose from.