What would you have done if the crystal had landed in your hands? I get this feeling that half of you — the ones who’d like to think that you’re above temptation — will be thinking, “What a prick, I’d never be that cruel to others.” Right. Even without having your insides corrupted as mine were, I’ll bet the power would have gotten to you. The rest of you — those who read these stories in hopes of watching a sexy woman wriggle like a bug — will probably get on my case for not having gone further in some particular way, thereby satisfying your particular psycho-sexual fantasies. Well, screw all of you — I did the things I did as I did them, and I’ll recall them now as I wish.
I had a plan — slip into Natasha’s house after Josh had been put to bed, flash the crystal in front of her face and go medieval with a new set of cum-inducing commands — but when the gloves did come off in my use of the crystal, it happened in an unexpected direction. The day after reading Natasha’s journal, Ms. Knopski asked me to stay after class. It was exam week and my penultimate class of the semester, and she had just handed back our graded thesis papers. Thesis papers seemed like such a game — make some “bold” point and then back it up, just to show that your mind is not in a disorganized, preverbal state. I made the shocking declaration in my paper that John Coltrane had been an especially pioneering jazz musician, and then proceeded to prove it. Big whoop. But Miss Knopski praised my work and claimed that my paper had moved her. She asked whether I ever went to hear live jazz, and without really waiting for an answer, she asked me if I’d like to go to a club with her that night.
So. Drip, drip, drip — the method of slow and steady erosion had gotten to her. It was humorous, the way she dodged around things as she spoke, as though trying to hide behind a big tree to keep from seeing that she was asking one of her students out on a date. I realized that Miss Knopski’s pussy was the one actually talking to me, not her brain. I said yes, I’d love to go out to hear some music, and kept things light, knowing that her coerced attraction was running headlong into the territory of student/teacher impropriety. How horny was she, and how far was she willing to go? Were the simmering commands enough to get her to shove her majestic mountains in my face? Probably not, but that didn’t even matter, because I arranged things so she would come by my apartment to pick me up.
Miss Knopski was punctual, ringing my buzzer promptly at eight. I pulled the crystal out of my shirt pocket as I opened the door, and watched her “thereness” drain away in an instant. I guided her inside and commanded her to stand still, and proceeded to remove her blouse and bra and shimmy her panties down to the floor. It was so cool, playing with a set of huge tits and fingering a hot, wet pussy for a good fifteen minutes, with her there feeling every bit of it, and getting sopping wet with her skin flushing red, and yet barely letting out one heated whimper. Miss Knopski’s blank, helpless lust was a real turn-on, and because she was so good at playing the role of the teacher, I decided that we should experiment together all night long, to learn just how far the crystal’s powers could take us.
I felt up her tits and wiggled two fingers deep inside her pussy the entire time I considered my options. “When I snap my fingers, “ I began, “you will put your clothes back on with the exception of your bra and panties. You will walk back into the building hallway without remembering that you rang my buzzer before, or that any of the events in this apartment ever transpired. You will awaken from this state out in the hall, arriving again and ringing my buzzer as though for the first time. Every time you realize that something is wrong with your situation, you will have an intense orgasm. You will not be able to cry out for help, you will not be able to pick up the phone or flee the apartment. And when I say the word ‘sex’, you will need to show me everything you’ve learned recently about sucking cock. Say ‘yes’ if you understand and will comply with these commands.”
“Uhhh… Yesss…”
And then, just because… “Also, you’ll have a monster orgasm every time I abuse the English language.”
God, it was priceless. A minute or two later, her moans outside my door contained as much surprise as heat — she’d probably come to realize that her bra and underwear had disappeared from her body, or she’d been shocked to feel the soreness in her pussy from having my fingers roaming around in there for so long. I opened my door after she buzzed, and there stood — barely — my English professor, her big, braless tits rising and falling as she gulped for breath, her eyes wide, her scent an intoxicating potpourri of hot pussy mixed with shock and fear.
“Miss Knopski!” I exclaimed, as though I didn’t know what was going on. “Are you okay?” I ushered her inside and locked the door, then eased her onto my sofa. “Set down and I gone get you a drink a water.”
“Oooohhh!’ she exploded. She slipped off the couch onto the floor, one hand going between her legs, not to play with herself, but more in an effort to plug or soothe the region of her unexpected eruptions. Her other hand clutched at the arm of the couch, and she began to pull herself up, but then her eyes fell on her bra and panties lying on the floor near the door, and she fell back down, shaking and groaning.
“Miss Knopski! Is you okay?”
“Ooooohhhhhhhh!”
“Miss Knopski! What you am telling me? That you and me has need to makes the sex?”
She really had been practicing her cock-sucking skills. It was difficult for her, though, as she began the deed with her insides going nuclear. I didn’t help her one bit, either, exclaiming things like, “That feel so wonderbus!” just before she had me ready to shoot my load. Her concentration would turn to shit for a good minute or so as a fresh tremor rumbled through her body, and then she’d be sucking me again, twirling her tongue in frenzied spirals just as she’d performed on another lover or a banana or however the fuck she’d been practicing. It wasn’t easy, but I kept my head together enough to cry out, “I be shooting loads!” right in mid-ejaculation, causing her to gasp and take my spunk down her windpipe. It was a good technique, the cough-job at the end. I think it was the trick that coaxed an encore spurt out of my dick.
The number of orgasms ended up being too much for her — I thought she’d begin to struggle against her plight at some point and try to get away, but she just lay on the floor, panting, apparently incapacitated by her rapid-fire eruptions. I hadn’t even begun — I mean, I couldn’t get over the outrageous ratio between her huge tits and the rest of her petite body, and there was no way I’d let things fizzle out before experimenting with her capacity for big-tit sex — so I showed her the crystal again, and commanded her to feel rejuvenated, and capable of many more orgasms.
Even though you might be dying to hear all of the details, I’ll skip the particulars of the cum-slickened tit-job she gave me, as well as the other variations that night. I turned her into a sultry, patient lover, then a wild, growling fuck-leopard, and we even took a turn with her memories wiped so clean that she was essentially a shy, virginal little girl at heart, even though we’d already been fucking for a good five hours. The point is that it seemed as though I could make the woman do or be or feel almost anything my heart desired. I had no motivation to take things in a truly terrible direction, but I was pretty sure I could make my teacher jump off a bridge or slam her car into a brick wall if I wanted.
I remember sitting in the passenger seat of her car at three in the morning, with a huge smile on my face as she drove me home from a date we’d never had. A few minutes with the crystal gave her memories of a pleasant, romantic time at the jazz club, and I received a soft, mostly voluntary goodnight kiss as thanks for such an incredible first date.
“Don’t tell anybody what we did,” she said as I got out of the car. I couldn’t hold back a smirk, because she only meant going out together before she’d handed in the semester grades.
“I’ll never tell a soul what we did tonight, Miss Knopski,” I answered, and until writing this down, I never did.
“Please call me Nancy, Brian. I’ll call you soon,” she added, as though she had any choice in the matter. “I’d… be willing to go further on a second date. You could even count on that.”
How sweet, and downright flirty. Perhaps her generosity stemmed from the romantic memories I’d implanted into her brain. Perhaps it was motivated by the command for her nipples to grow hard and needy just from contact with her bra. Lucky Miss Knopski — she would develop the capacity to achieve nipplegasms as the week progressed, and with such huge and talented tits, I’d already decided that she was a keeper.
The moon was high and bright that night, and I walked around the downtown campus after she drove off, just to feel the cold December air biting into my flesh. I was feeling so alive and happy — happy at the prospects for future fun and games, happy at how my dick ached, happy that Miss Knopski had enjoyed the night — in her mind, anyway — enough to kiss me. A crystal command was keeping her from feeling the way her pussy had been reamed, but I was pretty sure that I’d only masked the discomfort tonight, not tomorrow. An oversight, or an intentional wish for her to wake up and not be able to walk in the morning? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.
A little undercurrent of uneasiness lay there beneath my satisfied state — a whispering voice, perhaps, telling me that something was wrong — but I misread it. I wondered whether I might have gone too far in the way of taking chances, as in what if the memory command faded over time, and Miss Knopski eventually remembered the way I had used and abused her that night? I figured I could refresh the command later, and so I felt no panic. The significant fact is that I could only see potential dangers and slip-ups as belonging out there in the world, as opposed to within myself. And so I walked, lost in thought, but really just lost, without realizing it. The old Brian was already buried and mostly forgotten by that point — it’s so easy to see it now, but back then, even that nagging whisper couldn’t help me to see shit beyond the tip of my dick. I had become a terrible, terrible human being, and as with most terrible human beings, my abuse of others felt good.
“You’ll remember every bit of this,” I instructed, rubbing olive oil all over her pert breasts. Although her tits weren’t spectacular in size, her straining nipples were wide and long, which really turned me on. “You’ll remember how you can be controlled so completely, and you’ll long for it. You’ll ache, and ache…”
“Uhh… ache…”
“The thought of being commanded to do dirty things will eat at you, and make your pussy and nipples scream for the touch of my fingers and dick…”
“Scream…”
“You won’t be able to tell a soul about this, no matter how badly you wish to. And when you see me in the hallway, you’ll flirt with me, and tell your roommates that you think I’m cute. But you’ll never reveal or even hint at the things I do to you. Do you understand?”
“Y…yesss…”
“Every night, you’ll think of me, and long for me. And no matter how you really feel about me, the aching and longing will become worse, and your desire to be manipulated will intensify.
“I…Uhh… intense…”
“You want to cum, right now. You’re dying to cum. Intense longing, an almost uncontrollable urge to explode, your pussy soooo sensitive and ready…”
“Unnngghhh! Ohgod…”
“Do you want to cum?”
“Uhh! Y…yes!”
“Maybe I won’t let you.”
“Uhh! P…please…”
“Say pretty please.”
“P…p…putty…”
Putty was close enough, so I allowed her to detonate. She looked good when she came, so good that I thought I might want to tape it sometime.
“Oh god, oh god, ohmygod,” she panted, lying on my floor.
“You’ll ache to feel that again,” I instructed. “You’ll remember this like you’ve never remembered anything. You’ll remember so vividly that you’ll feel it again and again as you masturbate — only you won’t be able to cum. To cum, you’ll need to come downstairs, and beg me to put you under the crystal’s power again.”
“N…no…”
“Yes. You’ll beg. You’ll get on your knees and plead to be allowed to cum.”
“Yesss… Beg you…”
“Now leave. And don’t forget the oil.”
Her name was Lori Masters, which I found so wonderfully ironic. She was twenty years old and lived with two other attractive students in a third floor apartment in my building. I’d talked briefly with all three girls in the hallway or by the entryway mailbox, and any of them might have been welcome additions to my tangled hypnotic web. But Lori’s bubbly butt and pouty lips decided things in her favor, and I now had a playtoy right inside my building. Dangerous thing, a beautiful girl coming down to ask a near-stranger if she could borrow some olive oil. If you’re a parent and have a child away somewhere, remember to warn them that people like me are here in this world.
I might not have put Lori under my power on some other day, but this day was special. I was still glowing from the previous night’s successful “date” with Miss Knopski, and I had just taken my final exam, placing my first semester of college into the history books.
I felt like a changed man, and of course I was. I felt as though I could do or have any fucking thing I wanted in life, and it wasn’t far from being true. Freed from a purely cautious approach to crystal matters, I could fuck with half of the world, turning virgins into whores, and whores into animals. A vast herd of gorgeous women scampered across my brain, some of them fucking me in doe-eyed adoration, others trembling in fear or loathing, and yet hungrily sucking or fucking me anyway. I was truly sex and power crazed, although I know now that other forces were at work as well, forces that compelled me to delay, and detour, thus changing everything.
I needed to celebrate, and I wanted to celebrate with a brand-new girl, instantaneously turning some unsuspecting hottie into a Brian-sucking cum-robot. And so I drove to the city’s largest mall, intending to enslave an especially fetching Hispanic girl working at the Borders bookstore. This girl was new, and had hooters so grand that they looked like giant tit-piņatas just waiting to shower me with sweet goodness. The only problem was that I wasn’t sure how to arrange a private viewing of the crystal. In an unfrequented aisle? In her car when her shift was over?
Fate smiled on that girl that day, because I never even made it to the bookstore. I entered the mall through a second level entrance, and took a fateful pause, in which I peered over the railing to the stores below. There, two doors down from the bookstore entrance, stood Cindy, with her mother.
I couldn’t fucking believe it. I mean, sure, she would be through with her first semester of college, just as I was. And sure, we’d stopped talking on the phone after her semi-kiss-off letter. But it shocked me to see her already here, snuggling into her hometown life without me even knowing it.
I felt my jaw tighten. Cindy looked good, as in fitness video good. Her ass and hips filled out her tight jeans in an entirely new way, and the curvature at the front of her sweater was especially inspiring when flowing out of from her leaner frame. That ass and those tits are mine, I thought. I no longer wanted a relationship with Cindy, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want her.
She and Mrs. Walls remained in place, standing outside of a shoe store, probably waiting for Cindy’s younger sister Emma to come out with a purchase. I had the crystal in my pants pocket, and reached my hand in to touch it, finding its hard jagged surface reassuring. One way or another, I was going to fucking use it on Cindy, and make her lick my dick like it was made of pure chocolate. In fact, why not make all three Walls women open their walls for my dick? But how to play things in such a public space? I stood there, fingering the crystal, happy to be invisible to them as I formulated a plan of action.
But then I received a second shock, and in quick succession, a third. You couldn’t fail to notice her as she exited the shoe store, nor could there be any mistaking her identity. Not Emma, but Cindy’s roommate, the red-tressed swimmer from the photos. She extended a tanned ankle and calf to model her new shoes for the other women, and they all laughed from some comment or another. Mrs. Walls pointed towards the Sears end of the mall, and the grouping of women shifted their positions. From my high vantage point, I got a great view of the roommate’s cleavage and radiant face, and I knew I had to have her. The hair color was unique, but in other ways the roommate was sort of a perfect mixing between Natasha and Cindy. Cindy’s age. Natasha’s sculpted physique, Cindy’s peaches and cream glow, but bigger tits and sexual vitality seeming to leak out from her in all directions.
Then came that third shock. Mrs. Walls went into the bookstore for a minute, and so she didn’t see the roommate’s hand slip down to cup Cindy’s ass. The two beauties leaned into each other, a mutual turning of their heads bringing their mouths together. Cindy’s mother never saw the brief exchange of tongue-tips, nor the heated pressing of one hip to another. But I saw. I saw, and I knew that I had not been the only one keeping secrets.
My girlfriend, the clit cleaner. My girlfriend, the muff muncher. My girlfriend, the nookie nibbler. My girlfriend, the twat twiddler.
Cindy’s abandonment of our relationship had more layers than I’d realized. I couldn’t have been more pleased.
I followed them, careful to keep out of sight. As luck would have it, they entered the Applebee’s connected to the mall. The restaurant was practically deserted, which struck me as fortuitous. I didn’t really have a plan, but entered and found an inconspicuous position in the little hallway to the restrooms, and I stood there, waiting. If there is one thing you can count on in life, it’s that a woman will visit the restroom.
Mrs. Walls appeared first. “Oh! Bri…” she began, her voice and mind falling away as I held the crystal up in the air. I worked on her quickly in the ladies room. A good groping of her big tits, just because I’d always wanted to, and then some hastily assembled commands. We were interrupted in mid-mindfuck by Cindy’s hotbod roommate, but then she, too, drained into blankness, and I engaged in my first session of group hypnosis, my persuasive voice echoing off of the tiled walls.
The instructions implanted, I sent them on their way and departed the restaurant to stand out in the mall again, waiting for Cindy to take her turn in the little girl’s room. She obliged, and by the time she came back to her table, I was seated right across from her, with her mother to my left and the sexy roommate to the right.
“Look who we ran into!” Mrs. Walls exclaimed.
Cindy did not look pleased to find me at their table, but did her best to hide it. “What uncanny timing,” she false-smiled. She really did look great without the glasses, but I couldn’t help comparing the tension undermining her features with the look of abandonment I’d seen so any times when we made love.
“Hi Cindy. I didn’t know you were back.”
“I… We flew in just yesterday. I thought about calling you, but…”
I nodded, as though being so understanding. “Look, I only wanted to say ‘hello’. Maybe it would be best if I just went on with my shopping.”
Cindy’s face relaxed, but then her mother intervened. “Nonsense!” Mrs. Walls exclaimed. “Stay and have a bite of us, Brian.”
“Oh! Y…yes,” added the sexy roommate, her face flushing significantly. “Why don’t you stay a little while?”
I shrugged my shoulders, doing my best to ignore the pissed fire burning in Cindy’s eyes. I held out my hand to her beautiful roommate and introduced myself. “I’m Brian,” I said, knowing the effect my name would have on her.
She shuddered, but held onto my hand, gazing deeply into my eyes. “Claire Cleary,” she breathed, and I immediately nicknamed her Claire Cleavage in my mind. Her blouse was sleeveless with a deeply plunging neckline, and my eyes flickered back and forth between her exposed shoulders and spectacular breasts. She was a fitness babe to the max, with quite a pair to be showing off. I had to give it to Cindy — she shared my taste in women, and had picked out a real stunner. In fact, I found myself replaying the memories of that summer afternoon, when Cindy had seemed so jealous of Natasha, and so fixated on her buff, stacked body. What an idiot I’d been, not realizing that part of her fascination signified an underlying attraction.
“Claire and Cindy are dorm mates in school,” Mrs. Walls explained.
Cindy was about to say something, but Claire cut her off, addressing me. “You and Cindy were… mates, isn’t that right?”
I nodded an affirmation, and stared right at Claire’s tits. Her nipples looked fucking fabulous. “Yes, it used to be Cindy and Brian way back when.”
“Oooo…” Claire cooed.
“I’m so hot!” Cindy’s mother suddenly blurted. “Am I the only one who’s going to want a drink?”
“I’m really hot, too,” Claire purred, continuing to stare at me. “Everybody says so.”
“Okay,” I laughed. “Brian is hot, too!”
We all turned to Cindy, who was looking at Claire, her expression hard. “I feel fine,” she said. “Claire? Are you okay?”
Claire was panting like an overheated bitch. “Hmmn?”
“I said are you feeling alright?”
“Just so hot,” Claire answered. “I feel like I could… melt.”
“Where is our waitress?” Mrs. Walls asked. “She’s a hottie, too.”
“Are you sure you need a drink, mother?” Cindy queried. “You seem quite tipsy already.”
“Cindy!”
“What?”
“Don’t call me titsy!”
“Wha… But I…”
“As if you didn’t get the same genes. I mean, look at you!”
“But…”
“Cindy is definitely titsy,” Claire chimed in. “But not as titsy as me. Wouldn’t you say so, Brian?”
She gasped and angled them right at me, then arched her back for emphasis. I tried to look embarrassed, but one corner of my mouth started to quiver from holding the laughter inside.
“Claire!” Cindy barked. “What are you doing?”
“Just being titsy. I’m a natural at it, aren’t I Brian? Ohhh! A…all natural.”
Even when she stopped pointing them at me, Claire’s rack seemed to want to lean in my direction. This was so much fun. I’d programmed Mrs. Walls and Claire, but didn’t have time to choreograph all of the details. It was happening organically, and the way it was playing out almost had me ready to slide out of my seat onto the floor.
“What is going on?” Cindy demanded. “Is this some sort of end-of-semester hazing ritual?”
The waitress arrived then, and Mrs. Walls declared, “I’d like a glass of iced pussy!”
Claire guffawed, and the waitress literally turned white. Cindy had the kind of look on her face that you might see in the middle of some slasher flick, this horrified, “How could everything suddenly be going so wrong?” look. I tried to appear shocked, masking my delight.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that!” Mrs. Walls threw at Cindy. “You drink pussy, too. Everybody can see that!”
“Mother!”
“She only drinks it hot,” Claire joked.
“Claire!”
“My drink?” Mrs. Walls addressed the stunned waitress.
“We, um…” The poor girl looked up, as though wishing for help to descend through the ceiling. “Did you mean iced tea?”
“Maybe we should just order our food,” I suggested, sounding reasonable.
“I’ll have the semen salad,” Mrs. Walls started.
“Mother! Jesus Christ!” Cindy erupted.
“I’ve never tried semen salad,” Claire commented. “But I think I’m about ready to go for it.”
The waitress looked at me, her eyes pleading for some shred of sanity. It was funny, because she wasn’t under my power at all, and yet the situation was turning her stare sort of glassy.
“Oh, right, leave it to Brian to be the interpreter,” I chuckled, ignoring Claire’s breathy groan. “I think she meant Caesar salad,” I explained, but Mrs. Walls objected.
“No, I want semen salad!”
“Let’s just order sandwiches,” I suggested.
“Okay, then,” Mrs. Wall relented. “I’ll have the dick sandwich and a side of cum slaw.”
I lost it, unable to hold in my laughter, but it didn’t matter. Cindy grabbed her mother’s hand and dragged her away towards the restrooms. She looked more furious than concerned, which pleased me to no end.
As though having no awareness whatsoever that she was still in a public place, one of Claire’s hands drew in to squeeze her left tit.
“Oh Goddddd,” she breathed. “I’ve… never felt like this before.”
“I think we haven’t decided what we are yet… I mean what we want yet,” I said to the waitress, and she was out of there.
“I… I’ll bet you have cum slaw,” Claire whispered, her fingers slipping under her top and bra to pinch a hard nipple.
“You’ve never had it, have you?” I asked.
“Never.”
“I’ve heard that Brian cum is really good.”
Her intake of breath pumped her boobs up even more, which I loved. Her hand left her breast to travel sideways under the table, and I moved my chair a couple of inches closer to help. She found my throbbing slaw dispenser, hissing just right at the moment of contact. Fuck, this girl had fine features to express her smoldering fire. Some Irish genes, no doubt, with smooth pale flesh to go with her straight red hair. Her jaw was well chiseled with a wonderful indentation right in the middle of the chin, her lips delicate but looking fuller by the second
“Cindy told me a lot about you,” Claire whispered, her probing fingers measuring my dimensions as though confirming a news report. “She… was very complimentary.”
“How long did it take for you to win her away from old Brian?” I asked.
“Ohhh! OhmyGod…”
“Answer me,”
“N…not long. Cindy was halfway there without knowing it.”
“And you did some nudging.”
“It… wasn’t hard. With this body… She’s wild about my body.”
“I’ll bet. Do you love her?”
“Very much.”
“And she loves you.”
“Like crazy.”
“The sex is good?”
“God, yes. She’s quite the lungful in the sack, too. But you already know that.”
“Of course.”
“I… have to stuff my panties or one of my boobs in her mouth every time because of how she screams. The dorm rooms have thin walls.”
“What about your walls?” I probed. “How do you think Brian’s big dick will feel stretching them?”
“Ohh Godd… I… I…”
“Brian, Brian, Brian,” I repeated. Her breath caught and she would have fallen out of her chair if she hadn’t been clinging to my cock. It looked like she’d be grinding her hips against the table edge if I said the words in succession again.
“You’re getting really hot over Brian’s dick, aren’t you Claire?”
“Ohhhhh! Uh… huh, “ she whispered, rubbing me hard through my pants and wiggling in her chair.
“You’re absolutely dying to suck Brian’s dick, aren’t you?”
“Ooooooo,” she breathed.
“I’ll allow to suck it, but only if you answer one question.”
“W…what question?”
“Why do you want to suck my dick when you’re gay? What’s that all about?”
“I… It’s because…”
The poor girl looked as though she was trying so hard. Her brow furrowed, the thoughts crashing against each other inside. “I…” she began again, but then faltered.
“I need an answer, Claire, or I won’t let you suck Brian off.”
“Oh! Ohhhgoddd… P…p…p…”
“Penis?”
“No. Yes! P…p…”
“Please?”
“Yes! I… Um… Oh please! Ask me another question!”
“Too bad. I guess you’ll never get your lips on good ol’ Brian.”
“Ohhhh! No! P…please!”
“Maybe if you did me some other favor, then.”
“Tell me! I’ll… I’d do anything!”
“Okay. I see Cindy and her mother coming back. Take your hand off of my dick and start treating Cindy like shit.”
“What? But… why?”
“Because Brian is pissed off with Cindy,” I explained. “Because Brian won’t allow you to suck Brian off or ever cum again in this lifetime if you don’t start treating Cindy like shit.”
“Noooohhhhgoddd… I… Ohmygod, ohmygod… Y…you can do that?”
“I can do that.”
“P…please…”
“And I want the two of you at my apartment tonight,” I added, just before Cindy and her mother arrived at the table. “Come to my apartment by nine if you ever hope to get near another orgasm again.”
“Cindy thinks I’m having a mid-life crisis!” Mrs. Walls declared, reseating herself.
“Or a stroke,” Cindy mumbled.
“I… think I’m having a stroke crisis, too,” Claire whispered, her lips trembling.
“Just because I wanted a dick sandwich,” Mrs. Walls continued. “People eat dick sandwiches every day, and they aren’t having mid-life crises.”
“Mother, stop it!” Cindy hissed between clenched teeth.
“Cindy?” Claire raised her voice. “Stop being such a bitch to your mother. It’s petty. It’s disgusting.”
Cindy couldn’t even answer, she looked so stunned.
“You are being kind of hard on her,” I added.
“What? But…”
“Oh just keep your pie-hole shut!” Claire snapped. “It’s only good for one thing, and talking isn’t it.”
“Claire! I…”
“Maybe I should be going,” I interjected, standing. My dick was pushing at the front of my jeans and both Claire and Mrs. Walls stared right at it, deep longing in their eyes.
“I’ll… um, fuck you in your car, Brian,” Cindy’s mother said, rising.
“Ohhhhh…” Claire moaned.
“Mother! What…What’s happening?” Cindy wailed, her eyes going from her mother to Claire.
“I think you meant ‘walk me to my car,’” I directed at Mrs. Walls.
“R…right. ‘Walk’ Brian in his car.”
“Ohhh!” Claire cried out, her eyelids fluttering.
“Clair, what’s the matter with you?” Cindy pleaded.
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Claire barked back at the girl she loved.
“Let’s go, Brian,” Mrs. Walls said, taking my arm, her other hand brushing against my hard dick. And we left them, Claire’s moans and Cindy’s sobs fading into the other sounds of the mall.
Yes, I made Mrs. Walls give me a blowjob out in my car, what did you think? As I said earlier, she was a good-looking woman with superb knockers. We shared some special crystal time in the parking lot, enough to implant instructions for her to work out religiously at a gym until her body was in tip-top shape — only then could she start coming by my apartment for the best sex of her life. As incentive, I programmed nipple sensitivity rewards for aerobic super-efforts, and a special correlation between weight-training reps and the number of orgasms she could achieve in any given week.
That’s me, the bestower of good habits for healthy living. Give me a group of lard-assed female teenagers, and, under the right conditions, I’ll have them on a workout regimen and whole grain/pussy/cum diet that could shake up the whole weight-loss industry.
But you don’t care about my good deeds, do you? You want to hear how I fucked with my ex-girlfriend and her lover, humiliating them and squashing their spirit. It might be the girl/girl action that you’re hoping for, or perhaps it’s the sex/pain intersection that turns you on. If the latter, then you’re just as fucked-up as I am, aren’t you?
But sorry. I’m not squeamish about anything I did that night — as I’ve said elsewhere, I’ve done so much worse since — but it would almost be beside the point to describe in too much detail the different ways I humiliated Cindy that night. Suffice it to say that Claire figured some way to drag her to my place, and I went very crystal that night. Cindy’s eyes were already swollen from crying when she arrived, and she shed a good many more tears as she witnessed her truelove being stripped of any wish to touch a woman again, especially my old girlfriend. I made Cindy watch, completely aware yet silent and motionless, as Claire sucked me off with exaggerated gusto. I tied Cindy’s emotional distress to the sensitivity of her clit, her tears fueling her lust, the intensification of her humiliation turning her into a needy, greedy fuck-toy.
And, since she was conveniently at hand, I called Lori upstairs and commanded her to help me fuck the living shit out of Cindy, just for old times sake. Lori licked Cindy’s clit as best she could while I went back and forth between reaming Claire’s pussy and Cindy’s ass. It was beautiful, fucking both beauties from behind, holding the crystal right in front of their faces and telling them what to feel, and when, and how they could cum or not-cum, yanking their hormones around like so many microscopic yo-yos. I brought them up and took them down, making them beg, making them sing for their pleasure, turning two gorgeous young women into a girl band in heat, yowling and screaming and crying for the best and brightest orgasms of their lives.
And just to show you that even a monster with a hard dick and a crystal-withered heart can have a soft spot, I commanded Cindy’s tears of loss and helplessness to become sobs of joy about everything that had happened. She left my building, walking tenderly, at three in the morning, with swollen eyes and a big exaggerated grin on her face. I didn’t see it, but I know that strange grin lasted for at least the entire next day.