Author: Bulgroz the Third
Title: Four Tapes and a Fiancee
Summary: A man finds a package in the mail containing a videotape of his fiancee in a somewhat compromising situation.
Keywords: MF, Mdom, mc






		       FOUR TAPES AND A FIANCEE

			 by Bulgroz the Third


				  I

The package was waiting for me on the landing leading up to my
apartment. The landlady always left the mail there. It was a wholly
unremarkable package, with no return address, postmarked from
Detroit. I therefore immediately assumed it was from my fiancee, the
only soul I knew in that wretched city. Grabbing the package, I made
my way up the stairs, unlocked the door, and entered my apartment.

It was a small one-bedroom that I rented for cheap. I did not require
a lot of space. I worked at a nearby laboratory until late every
night, and when I was not there, I made the four-hour drive that
separated me from Detroit and from Kyra. She was a graduate student
there, and we had decided, a year earlier, that being apart for a
short while was an acceptable price to pay for me to gain some work
experience, and for her to continue her doctoral studies. The
separation was difficult, but I made the commute to go see Kyra twice
a month, spending up to five days with her at a time. Thank God for
flexible work hours!

Curious, I set about to open the package, to find a videotape. No
marking, no accompanying letter. Strange. Not sure what to make of it,
I put the tape in the VCR. After a few seconds of snow, an image
appeared, seemingly from one of those surveillance cameras you find in
stores. However, the image it showed was of the inside of a house or
apartment that looked vaguely familiar. I realized after a while that
it was a shot from my fiancee's apartment.

Just then I heard voices on the tape, Kyra, and some man whose voice I
did not recognize.

"... and you believe you can help me with this?" said Kyra.

"Of course, miss. This is what we do best," said the unknown man. "Let
me show you what your options are."

They both entered the frame. Kyra, short and thin with long brown
hair, straight as they have always been, dressed as she usually was
around the home, sweatpants and a tee-shirt, concealing curves I knew
were there. The man was older, perhaps in his forties, dressed
professionally, a good head taller than my fiancee. He carried a
folder full of papers that he proceeded to spread on the dining room
table, as Kyra sat down.

"As you can see, miss, we have several color options. This one, for
instance, is available in yellow, which I believe will nicely match
your kitchen."

"Features?"

"Features include all those we discussed on the phone: fully automatic
cycle, silent mode, spill safety..."

Dishwashers. Kyra had been bugging me to get one, claiming that she
did not have time to wash dishes, and that besides, it was safer and
more hygienic than hand-washing dishes. She must have gotten tired of
discussing it, and decided to go ahead with the purchase.

"And, of course, we have the feature common to every WashAll model, by
far our most popular in most households," said the salesman.

"Which is?" said Kyra.

"Conditioning level alpha" said the salesman.

That was an odd thing to say. But Kyra's reaction to it was equally
odd. She stiffened, and her face went blank. The salesman, who had
been leaning on the table pointing at various dishwashers
advertisement sheets, straightened, smiling, and took a step towards
Kyra.

He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, pulled them down to his
ankles, and stepped out of them. He was wearing boxer shorts, white
with a light blue design. He approached Kyra, his cock tenting the
front of his shorts.

Kyra turned her head towards him, her expression clearing a little,
and the salesman ran his right hand through her hair.

"Come on, baby, be a good girl," he said.

She lifted her hand to his crotch, and slowly started rubbing his
member through his shorts. The salesman tossed his head back, sighing.

"Mmmm... that's it, baby. Go ahead, take it out."

Kyra pushed down his boxer shorts, letting his now rock-hard cock out,
pointing at her face. She slowly, almost reverently brought up her
hands, and slowly, teasingly, started caressing it. She wrapped one
hand around the head, and slowly started pumping her fist, slowly at
first, then faster and faster. The salesman got harder, his cock
nearly poking Kyra in the forehead, as she had been inching closer and
closer.

It was not until she slowly approached her mouth, slowly spread her
lips, and put the salesman's cock in her mouth that I realized I had
been holding my breath. I had no idea what was going on, on so many
levels. I had always thought my fiancee was faithful, never giving me
any inkling that she was straying or had any desire to stray. Then
again, what she was doing did not at all look like she was on a kick
to be unfaithful. She seemed... I could not quite describe it. Not
herself. Besides, I knew for a fact that she hated giving
blowjobs. Our sex life was anything but adventurous, much to my
chagrin and despite my many attempts, and giving head was simply not
something she did happily. Yet, there she was, sucking on some strange
man's cock, sitting at her own dining room table.

"Oh yeah, baby, that's it, that's it. Suck it," said the man,
caressing Kyra's face as she slowly sucked on his cockhead. She was
slow, careful, barely bringing his cock out of her lips, only to
engulf it a few inches. Her sitting position must not have been ideal
for the act.

The salesman seemed to realize it as well. He suddenly pulled her head
off his cock, stepped back, and pointed at the ground in front of him.

Kyra got out of her chair, and obediently kneeled in front of the
salesman who once more put his right hand through her hair and guided
her head to his cock. The cockhead touched her lips, which she pursed
to let it in. Sucking him in, sucking him out.

After a few minutes of this, the salesman grew agitated. His hips were
moving somewhat spasmodically, and his hand was jerking on Kyra's
head. Finally, he groaned, let out a loud "Oh God!", grabbed Kyra's
head with both hands, and violently pulled her head towards him,
jamming his cock all the way in her throat. I could hear my fiancee
first gag and then choke as the salesman slowly pulled his cock out
before slamming it all the way in again. Despite the gagging, Kyra was
busily deepthroating the man, who kept pulling her head with his
hands, grabbing fistfuls of her hair.

I was floored. Up until then, I had watched the proceedings in a
stunned silence, not quite knowing what was going on. This, however,
completely threw me. As I said, Kyra had repeatedly made clear that
she disliked oral sex, and on the few occasions when she deigned
indulge me, she would snap at me if I ever so much as touched her hair
during the act. To see her on her knees, deepthroating a stranger, and
letting him completely control the blowjob was beyond my ability to
comprehend.

Things were progressing on the screen. Amidst groans and impressive
slamming of cock in throat, with Kyra barely being able to keep up
with the rhythm, long strands of spittle running down from her mouth
onto her shirt, the salesman was close to coming.

"Fuck, you're good! Hold on, baby, I'm close... close... Oh God! Here
it comes! Han!"

With a deep groan and a fart, he jammed his cock deeper down Kyra's
throat than I thought possible. Her eyes bulging, her nose squashed
against his gut, she could do nothing but swallow his cum.

After he finished coming, the salesman took his cock out of Kyra's
throat, letting her breathe, gasping and half-choking, globs of
spittle and cum leaking into her shirt. The salesman wiped his cock in
Kyra's hair, while she laid there, unmoving, still heaving from her
effort.

"There, that's a good little cocksucker. You have a wonderful mouth,
you know that, baby?" he said, once again running his hand on the side
of her head.

Kyra lifted her eyes towards him, seemingly seeing him for the first
time. "Thank you, sir," she said.

The salesman smiles, caressing her face, spreading around some of the
cum that was leaking down from her hair. He then turned his head up to
look directly at the camera that he must have known was there, and
gave an exaggerated wink and a grin. I felt it was for my benefit.

At that point, the image on the screen froze, with my fiancee, cum
running down her chin, on her knees before a strange man, looking up
at him. A voice came on, strangely disembodied, a deep baritone with a
touch of the melodramatic to it.

"I hope you will remain calm, Mr Steadman," said the voice. "At least,
until you have a chance to hear what I have to say. As you can see, we
have in our possession a tape of your fiancee that I am certain
several people would be quite interested in getting their hands
on. Other people, and here I am mostly thinking about family, would
perhaps be less interested. I am venturing a guess, you understand. I
trust you have enough wit to understand that just as we managed to get
this tape in the first place, we can get more. May I say that your
fiancee is quite the little spitfire, Mr. Steadman.

"Now, here is the game, Mr. Steadman. You will not try anything
foolish, you will not get in our way, you will not cause any
trouble. We have no ardent desire to hurt anybody, my associates and
I, but we will do so if we need to.

"All we want is to have some fun with your fiancee. Until we tire of
her. At which point we will move on. In exchange for
your... cooperation, we will let you partake in our good fun. We have
extensively researched you and your fiancee, and if you will forgive
the impertinence, things do not seem very rosy on the sexual front."

I frowned. Inasmuch as I hated to admit it, our sex life, Kyra and I,
had become very quiet in the last few years. Too quiet. It had started
out nicely enough, like most relationship. But I supposed habit set
in, and while I was ready to experiment and try out new things, she
seemed much more resistant to the idea. Which was a shame, really,
because she had a hot little body, built for perversions, as I liked
to tease her.

"Looking at the previous scene," continued the voice, "you will
undoubtedly have realized that we did something to your fiancee. It
would be out of place for me to go into details right now, but
suffices to say that we have thoroughly conditioned her. She responds
to a few commands that we have programmed. You have witnessed one such
command. Feel free to try it out yourself, at your convenience. There
will be others, as you will discover in the future.

"Eventually, we will tire of her, and we will disappear from your
life. We may or may not remove the commands at that point. Much
depends on you, Mr. Steadman. Until then, your fiancee is ours. We
will use her for our own satisfaction, and we will share her with
friends. We will expect you to go with it all.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Steadman."

The image on the screen unfroze, to be replaced by typical blank tape
snow. I was in a daze. I stopped the tape, and stared at the blank
screen. I could not think. Which was just as well. Had I been able to
think, I might have been tempted to call the police. As it was, I
sealed my own fate that day: I rewound the tape to a particular spot.

"Conditioning level alpha" said the salesman on the tape.

				 ***

I was a nervous wreck when I unlocked the door of Kyra's
apartment. All was quiet in the hallway, not a sound coming from
inside. This was my first weekend in Detroit since receiving the
tape. I had talked with Kyra since then, and nothing seemed amiss. My
fiancee was her usual self, and if not for the fact that there was a
tape next to my television set that immortalized her on her knees
blowing some bloke, I would have probably been tempted to chuck it all
down to some particularly disturbing dream. This would not have been
the first time one of my fantasies got out of hand.

All through the drive over, I had debated what I would do. I still had
not reached a satisfying conclusion.

I was never given an opportunity to answer the question. Just as I put
my travel bag down after entering the apartment, I heard a shuffling
of feet, and I had barely enough time to turn towards the living room
before Kyra burst out of nowhere and jumped in my arms, wrapping her
legs around my waist. I mechanically registered her bare legs, and her
white tee-shirt and light blue panties, before her lips closed over
mine in a scorching kiss.

"Hi honey! I missed you!" said Kyra, after she broke the kiss, still
in my arms.

"One day, you'll give me a heart attack, you know that?"

"You are my strong man," she said, sliding down to the ground.

"You must be starved. Did you get something on the road?" she
asked. Before I could answer, she turned around, heading to the
kitchen. I was given a wonderful opportunity to stare at her ass,
barely contained in panties that looked a bit too small for her.

"No, nothing," I said. "And I can think of a thing or two that I would
like to sink my teeth into right now."

Kyra looked up over her shoulder.

"Really?" She turned around, a twinkle in her eye, came back towards
me, stretched to the tip of her toes, and gave me a soft kiss on the
lips, long, with just a hint of her tongue flirting with my own.

"Then perhaps we can find a way to satisfy you," she said. She took my
hand and pulled me to the bedroom, and onto the bed.

Much kissing, stripping, and rubbing later, after she had made her way
under me, spread her legs and let me insert my cock in her, and we
both had come after a slow, languorous fuck, we snuggled in bed, in
the light of the dying afternoon. Kyra was sleeping. I was still
awake, thinking.

Few things made me as happy as making love to Kyra. She was incredibly
sexy, and I could spend hours licking her soft skin, kissing her
thighs, squeezing her breasts. But lately, it was leaving me strangely
unsatisfied. I had figured out why maybe six months ago. Kyra and I
were sexually active, but mainly at her behest. And the sad truth was
that her behest did not manifest very often. Of course, days like
today, our first reunion after an absence, were different. But I was
pretty sure that our next romp would be in a month, my next visit,
after leaving and coming back again.

All of which I could live with happily if Kyra were more daring. But
no, not only was sex infrequent, it was also strictly missionary
stile, with a rare cowgirl thrown in for variety. She liked when I ate
her out, but she rarely returned the favor. I loved her dearly, and I
know she loved me, but we were stuck in an unpleasant sexual status
quo.

A status quo that the people who sent me the tape seemed intent to
resolve for me. Try as I might, I could not get out of my mind the
image of Kyra on her knees sucking on a cock. I pushed the thought
away, as I had done several times in the last two weeks. The only way
I could deal with the situation was to try to block the whole thing
out of my mind.

				 ***

Three days later, Kyra and I were cuddling on the couch, watching some
inane evening show on television. The last three days had been
pleasant, and we had settled into the routine that followed days of
effervescence.

"I got the munchies," said Kyra, turning to me. "You want anything?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine."

"Okay. Be right back."

She stood and made her way to the kitchen. Once again, I could not
keep from staring at her ass as she walked away. It was more covered
this time. She was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, under a somewhat
long tee-shirt. She was barefoot. A thought sneaked its way into my
consciousness. Those were the same sweatpants that she was wearing on
the tape. I blocked the thought, but not fast enough: in my mind's eye
Kyra was on her knees, gagging on a large cock. I got hard instantly.
Shaking my head, I tried to concentrate on some married man's antics
on television.

Kyra came back, and sat next to me on the couch. Much to my dismay,
she starting slowly licking a popsicle. No way, I thought.

"What?" said Kyra. I must have been staring. "Told you, I got the
munchies. And it's hot."

Yes, it was.

"Is it bothering you?", she asked.

"No, no, sorry... I must be tired. Don't mind me."

We turned our attention back to the show. Or at least she
did. Personally, I was busy watching Kyra from the corner of my eye
working on that lucky popsicle. She was alternatively licking it
slowly top to bottom, and putting the tip in her mouth and sucking on
it softly. My hard-on became harder still. It did not take much
imagination to picture her sucking like that on a cock. Okay, I did
not need imagination. The tape was never very far from my mind. And
here, now, with my fiancee cuddled next to me on the couch and
oblivious to my struggle, slowly sucking on a frozen treat, the taped
ceased to be a thought to be resisted and became a temptation to be
embraced.

In other words, I gave in.

"Sweetie, what do you know about conditioning level alpha?" I asked,
bracing myself for the response.

None came. Kyra slowly stopped sucking on her popsicle, her eyes
losing their focus somewhat. A blink, two. I did not dare move. After
what felt like an eternity, I touched her cheek. No reaction.

"Sweetie?" I asked.

No reaction. I hesitated still. This felt like a dream. What the hell,
I thought. I stood, and took off my pants and underwear. I felt way
too self-conscious to remove my shirt. I sat back down next to Kyra,
who had not stirred. My cock was sticking straight up, harder than it
ever was.

"Sweetie, would you mind helping me out a little?" I said, feeling
foolish, not quite sure what in fact I should be saying. It is
admittedly difficult to be suave when half naked and trying to ask
one's fiancee for a blowjob?

Kyra's face cleared a little. After turning her head towards me, she
leaned over to put a hand around my cock. I jumped. Her fingers felt
burning hot. I was terribly sensitive.

This made the sensations when Kyra put the head of my cock in her
mouth that much more intolerable. The feeling was fantastic. I had
always liked the feeling of her pussy, soft, and warm, like velvet
around my cock. Her mouth was even warmer, and her tongue... God, her
tongue! She softly sucked on my cock, taking a little bit at a time in
her mouth. After a few minutes, I could not help shifting my hips
slightly, wanting to get more into her mouth. Kyra understood, let go
of my cock, and straightened up. I was about to say something, "Hey,
get back here" being my first candidate, when she kneeled next to me
on the couch, ass sticking up in the air, and literally plunged onto
my cock. I held my breath. Jacking me off with her right hand, she
bobbed her head up and down, taking me deeper and deeper, until I felt
my cock hit the back of her throat. That was it for me.

"Oh God! Sweetie, this feels wonderful!" Through either reflex or bad
timing, my cock slipped out of her mouth just when I came, and I
spurted a load then two then three right on her face. The first hit
her eye, the second dribbled around her nose, and the last landed just
above her upper lip. Kyra swished her tongue about, licking up the
cum, then proceeded to thoroughly lick my cock clean.

After, when I was recovering, Kyra cuddled back against me on the
couch, her attention focussed once again on the television. I stared
as a drop of my cum made its way dow the side of her mouth, gone
strangely unnoticed.

				 ***

They say it is difficult to put a genie back in a bottle. I am ashamed
to admit I did not even try. In fact, I wholeheartedly embraced that
other proverb, there is no use crying over spilled milk. So while a
small part of me felt guilty about my behavior, the largest part, and
not the smartest, could not wait to feel her mouth again.

Kyra herself seemed completely oblivious to the whole thing. Right
after the couch incident, we continued watching television, then
chatted for a bit. She never noticed the cum that was caking her face,
only washing her face before bed, as was her habit anyways.

I gave in to my urges once more the next day. Actually, this makes it
sound like I put up a fight. I did not. It was late, and Kyra was
getting ready for bed. She was standing in front of the dresser mirror
in the bedroom, examining her face, and she was stretched up, standing
on her toes. She was wearing a short diaphanous nightie, my favorite
for several obvious reasons. It was translucent, but hid enough to be
teasingly arousing. And it was short. It barely reached the top of her
thighs, showcasing her long and perfectly formed legs.

And now, stretched as Kyra was, the nightie had ridden up her thighs
and revealed a pair of perfectly formed ass cheeks, barely covered by
a pair of tight panties. I quietly made my way behind her, slid my
arms around her midriff, and cupped her breasts, while pushing my
quickly hardening cock against her ass.

Too forward, I knew. Kyra jumped, and tried to turn around.

"Honey!? What are you doing?"

I let her turn around, feeling her body rub against mine, trapped as
she was between me and the dresser. I sought her mouth. She kissed me
quickly, dismissively, and moved her head away as I persisted in my
attention.

"Honey... please, stop. I am really tired tonight...", she said.

Tired. Worried about something. Not in the mood. It was getting old.

"Kyra, conditioning level alpha."

She went blank. I pulled her lips to mine. She responded, not
passionately, but responded nonetheless. I guessed that the
conditioning trigger only controlled her blowjob abilities. I cut the
kiss short, looked at her deep in the eyes, and put a hand on her
shoulder. She understood immediately, and sank to her knees in front
of me, while I stepped back to give her some room.

She was beautiful, kneeling in front of me, legs slightly spread, head
back staring at my cock, long hair brought back in a simple
ponytail. While I admired her, she pulled my shorts down, and gave a
tentative lick to the tip of my cock, which shivered from the touch. A
few more licks, then she used a finger to lift my cock against my
abdomen and proceeded to lick the length of it with the flat of her
tongue, in long broad strokes. I was going crazy; I felt like rubbing
myself against her skin, dry humping her face.

Just when I thought I could not take it much longer, she let go of my
cock, puckered up, and allowed my cock to part her lips as she pulled
me in deep in one agonizingly slow motion. She kept me in her mouth
for two beats before pulling me back out, squeezing her lips together
and sucking the whole way out. She pulled my cock out completely, then
dove in again. And again. And again. Whomever had taught her to suck
cock had done an amazing job. Her tongue was doing wonderful things.

Despite my best attempt at remaining motionless and just enjoying
Kyra's talented lips, I quickly found myself pushing my hips forward,
seeking to go in deeper, matching the bobbing of Kyra's head with
thrusts of my own. I had always thought of myself as a considerate
lover, but now something else took over. I was thrusting harder and
harder. Kyra did not make a sound, but her blowjob got sloppier. Just
like on the video, saliva was roping down from her chin, falling and
coating the top of her nightie, that was now almost transparent. She
slobbered on my cock like a demure slut.

Slut! The word, Kyra on her knees in front of me, Kyra on her knees
mouth-fucking a stranger on the tape, the fact and sheer existence of
that tape, made me snap. I lifted my hands, which until then had been
resting safely by my side, and grabbed a fistful of hair in each. I
thrust in her mouth harder than before, practically ramming into her,
using her hair to hold her in place. Kyra gagged as my cock bottomed
out at the back of her throat, but the sound just added to my
frenzy. I pulled out, and rammed back in, and again, and again. Still
gagging, Kyra seemed to shuffle in place, and on my next thrust, my
cock sank deep in her throat, encountering little resistance, snuggled
in warmth like never before. Her forehead hit my abs, her lips the
root of my cock. I was in her throat, deep.

I pulled out, slowly, and Kyra took a lungful of air, thick strands of
saliva connecting her lips to my cockhead. Then she took me in all the
way down once more. If I had thought I was frenzied before, then I did
not know what this was. I did not know what to do with myself, cry,
laugh, or fuck her. I rammed her throat again and again, my hands
still on her head. Each thrust kept pushing her head back a little
bit, and eventually the back of her head banged on the dresser. A
thrust, a sloppy gagging sound, a bang on the dresser. I could not
deal with it much.

Another thrust, harder this time, another gagging sound, a bang on the
dresser. A thrust, a gagging sound, a bang on the dresser. My hands
got tighter on Kyra's hair, I pulled hard, and thrust my cock deep in
her throat, holding it there, Kyra's lips in my pubic hair at the root
of my cock, her throat milking me, and I finally let go, coming deep
in her throat, choking her. My hands were tightening convulsively in
her hair, as I spurted load after load directly in her throat. I was
not letting her breathe, forcing her to swallow, which massaged my
cock in indescribable ways. Eventually, I was done, and I realized
that I was still clenching her hair, holding her head against my
belly. I let her go, and Kyra pulled back, breathing hard. She looked
a mess, with her chin shiny with saliva, strings of cum stretching
down to her chest.

I fumbled back, feeling weak. Resting on the bed, I looked at Kyra. On
her knees in front of the dresser, short nightie sitting high on her
thighs, left transparent around her breasts because of the spittle,
showing red nipples that just asked to be sucked on, she looked so
violently fuckable I was shaking. I caught myself hoping that further
tapes would follow.

As another saying goes, be careful what you wish for.


				  II

The second package arrived the same way as the first. I found it on
the landing of my apartment, a nondescript brown package. My heart
raced when I picked it up. I headed up the stairs, entered my
apartment, dropped the package on my coffee table, and sat down on the
couch and stared. I was torn, suddenly unwilling to face new truths. I
had spent my last weekend in Detroit with my cock stuffed in Kyra's
mouth, taking advantage of any opportunity. First thing upon waking in
the morning, I had her blow me in bed. Later, while out for a drive, I
made her go down on me on a deserted road. Both times, I came in her
mouth, and she swallowed without complaint. In fact, she was silent
throughout. We never talked about what happened. It was clear that she
was not even aware of her actions.

I had gotten used surprisingly quickly to having her mouth at my beck
and call. I had also conveniently forgotten that her mouth was also at
the beck and call of unknown individuals. The package sitting on the
table in front of me now reminded me of this last bit. If this package
was what I thought it was, someone else had once again used my
fiancee.

After some more staring, I finally reached over, opened the package,
and extracted the expected videotape. I put it in the player, and
settled down to watch.

				 ***

"So, you think we'll have to stay long at this gig?", I asked Kyra.

We were set to go to some party that evening, the second night of my
next Detroit trip. Not that I felt like going - a bunch of people at
her university that I could barely stomach. But it was important to
Kyra, so I made an effort.

"As long as it takes to make my supervisor happy," she said, from
behind the closed bathroom door. She sounded tense.

"All right," I said. I straightened my tie in the bedroom mirror. A
fancy party, she said, dress nicely, so I had pulled my old suit out
of mothballs. I wore it at every official function I had to attend.

"Well, here goes nothing," Kyra said. "What do you think?"

I turned to look. And nearly choked. She was breathtaking,
literally. She told me that she had gone shopping for a new dress
earlier in the week. It was a small red thing with white polka
dots. It left most of her shoulders and neck exposed, being held up by
two thin straps, and hugged her body close, drawing attention to her
small waist and the curve of her hips. Lower, it spread out slightly,
and stopped mid-thighs, revealing Kyra's perfectly formed legs,
wrapped in translucent white nylons. Her legs went on forever, and
ended in a pair of three-inch stiletto white pumps. I could not stop
my eyes from traveling up and down her body, practically salivating.

"Wow!" It was all I could say.

Kyra blushed, and fidgeted in place. She never was comfortable with me
admiring her, yet she clearly enjoyed it.

"How about giving it a little swirl, so I get a complete view?" I
asked. She spun in place, slowly, and I got a great view of her ass,
perfectly emphasized by the flare of the dress. "God, you're
beautiful," I said.

She completed her turn, smiling. "Glad you like it," she said. "I hope
others will like it too." She was still worried about her
party. Personally, I had other things on my mind.

"I feel I must ask, " I said, getting closer. "What are you hiding
under that dress?" I lightly touched her thigh, feeling the silky
material of her nylons, and ever so slowly felt up to where her dress
fell. "The ever central question: hose or stockings?"

Kyra lightly slapped my hand away. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, definitely. Frankly, you look stunning in this getup. I
would love to see you dance." I put a not altogether subtle emphasis
on the word 'dance'.

She looked up at me. "Oh, really? Well, if you behave, maybe we can
arrange something later. But not right now." She took a step back and
headed for the living room. I stared at her ass, swaying playfully
because of her heels. I smiled to myself. Not right now, huh?

"Kyra, conditioning level beta."

She stopped abruptly. I could just imagine her face, the blank look
she must have had. Perfect. We might be a bit late to the party.

Remembering the second tape that I had received now a couple of weeks
earlier, I went to the entertainment center, and chose an appropriate
CD. Shakira would be suitable, I thought, and plopped it in the
player. As the beat started, so did Kyra.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Kyra, are you okay?" I asked, still afraid something went wrong.

"Oh yes, honey. I'm just in the mood to dance, that's all," she said,
her voice husky, starting to move to the beat of the music. She still
had her back to me, offering me a wonderful view of her backside.

"You just sit tight, and enjoy the show," she said, almost whispering
it. And she started dancing. She whipped around a few times, swaying
dangerously on her heels, arms in the air, head thrown back, hair
spreading out. Her movements were alternating between slow and fast. I
was mesmerized. Her dress was flying up, not showing anything until
she was once more with her back to me, and, still gyrating her hips,
lifted the hem of her dress to first reveal that she was wearing
thigh-high stockings with a wonderfully wicked lace top, and then her
ass cheeks, hugging the skimpiest white thong I had ever seen. Her ass
was magnificent, and because she knew me, she starting swaying her
body, bending over, her dress flipped over her back, her ass offered
to me. I had to fight the urge to jump up, push her on her hands and
knees, push aside the thin strip of the thong and fuck a pussy that I
knew warm and tight and enveloping.

Kyra suddenly let go of her dress, which fell back on her thighs,
whipped back around, and, still dancing to the music, reached up and
slowly lowered the thin straps of her dress down her
shoulders. Teasingly, looking straight at me, a slight smile on her
lips, she pulled down the top of her dress, revealing that she was not
wearing a bra, as her breasts popped into view immediately. A
delicious pair they were, like small grapefruits, with red nipples
pointing out.

Kyra kept on dancing, slowly pulling her dress down fully. It fell
down to her feet, and she kicked it off, before standing, legs spread,
in front of me, a vision of loveliness. She was only wearing her
thong, and her legs were wrapped in white stockings, her feet in tall
white heels. She had her hands under her breasts, holding them up as
if offering them to me. She slowly tweaked a nipple between a thumb
and forefinger.

Remembering the tape, trying not to think too much about the fact that
another man had found himself in essentially the same position as I
was with my fiancee half naked in front of him and offering her
tits. I pulled out my wallet, fished a ten dollar bill, and waved it
in the air.

"Nice! How about a little lapdance, sweet thing, while you got me all
hot and bothered?" I said, trying to act nonchalant. Kyra positively
purred, and came up to me with long cat-like steps. She thrust a hip
forward. I reached up, and slipped the tenner in the string of her
thong, feeling the satin of her skin in the process.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, still with her husky voice. She
slowly started moving her hips in wider and wider circles, her head
thrown back, eyes closed, one hand on a tit, the other sneaking down
her sides to play with the string of her thong. I went back to being
mesmerized.

Kyra lifted a leg and set it down next to me. This put her crotch
level with my face, and I could see the wetness spreading on her
thong.

"You're wet, aren't you?" I asked, looking up at her.

"Oh God, yes, I am dripping. I wish you could feel..." She slowly
sneaked a hand across her tummy, slid it slowly under her thong, where
I could see it move. She must have been sensitive, because I saw her
shiver, open her eyes, look at me directly and give me the dirtiest
smile. Her tongue slowly licked her upper lip.

"Mmm, yes, I'm running my finger through my slit, and I've never been
so wet before. Just for you, baby."

She pulled her hand up and, putting her finger in her mouth, started
to suck on it. "Yum," she said, still looking directly at me.

A beat, then, still dancing to the music, Kyra turned around, slowly
bent over, and started shaking her ass in my face. She then
straightened and sat on my lap, massaging my cock with her ass,
deliciously. I could not resist any longer, and brought my hands
around her chest, and none too gently cupped her tits. They felt
wonderful.

"Tut! Tut! None of that," she said, gently pulling my hands away,
still massaging my cock with her ass. "No touching, you know the
rules."

There was only so much I could take. My cock was ready to
burst. Exploding in my pants would be a waste, when I had a perfectly
good mouth to take care of it.

"Kyra, conditioning level alpha."

Her ass on my cock stopped abruptly. Kyra stood up, turned around, and
kneeled before me. As I pulled my pants off, I looked at her. She was
a delicious sight. There was my fiancee, all of twenty-two years old,
kneeling in front of me, wearing a skimpy white thong, a pair of
thigh-high white stockings, her ass sitting on a pair of white
pumps. She looked like a virginal wet dream. As my cock jumped out, I
reached over to grab her hair, pulled her to me, and as she engulfed
me to the hilt, I could not resist adding "Now suck me, you little
slut!"

Later that evening, at the party, watching her talking to one of her
friends, I wondered whether she could taste my cum in her mouth. I
also thought that every man here would love to see her stripping,
especially as I have caught quite a few appreciative leers towards her
legs throughout the evening. I had never had fantasies about watching
my fiancee with other men, so my feelings came as a surprise, and I
found myself having to resist the impulse to call out her conditioning
trigger.

Needless to say, I made her strip again when we got home.

				 ***

Over the following days, I found out more about her conditioning. For
example, while she would gently swat me away if I tried to touch her
while she was in what I now called stripper mode, I could ask her to
wear whatever I wanted her to. I had her dance and strip in all my
favorite outfits, and some new ones I discovered. She danced and
stripped out of a silky black nightie that barely covered her crotch,
wearing only a pair of black fuck-me pumps. She danced and stripped
out of a very proper white shirt and short black skirt, wearing black
stockings and black heels. I even went and purchased a red evening
gown with a slit up the side, with matching heels and a set of
Victoria's Secret red lace underwear that revealed more than it hid. I
asked her that evening, when in stripper mode, to tease her hair up,
put on some makeup, wear the red dress and accessories, and give me a
slow bump-and-grind, teasing me mercilessly and talking dirty, telling
me how much she wanted me to just "rip out my thong, spread my legs
wide, and fuck me hard", or "grab me, throw me on the bed, sit on my
tits and fuck my throat". That last sounded like a good idea, and she
almost choked as I spewed in her throat, her head pulled tight against
my belly, tits naked and nipples poking into my ass, her legs spread,
covered in tan silk, five-inch stiletto heels digging into the
bed. Bliss.


				 III

The third tape arrived a month later. I would be lying if I said I was
not expecting it with trepidation. If nothing else, a steady dose of
dancing and blowjobs had left me with a deep desire to fuck my fiancee
to my heart's content.

Oh, sure, we made love a few times during my stay. But it was the
rather chaste and uninspired lovemaking that we had settled into
before the tapes showed up. I spiced our sex sessions somehow by
triggering her conditioning after she came, straddling her chest, and
fucking her mouth. Sometimes, I would have her down on all four on the
bed, round ass sticking straight up in the air, and me once again
gleefully fucking her throat.

Not unexpectedly, the third tape would change that. As I sat on my
couch watching the image on the screen, a glass of whiskey in hand, I
was in turmoil. On the one hand, seeing two well-hung black men on the
video taking advantage of my fiancee sent sparks of jealousy down my
spine. On the other hand, the show was incredibly hot, and I could not
help pulling my cock out and jacking off as I watched. And when the
two men on the screen came, one with his cock deep in Kyra's throat,
and one spewing on her upturned naked ass, I came as well.

				 ***

"So, what shall we do tonight?" asked Kyra. She was lounging on the
couch, idly flipping through a magazine. She had been studying all
day, some experiment with rats, as far as I could tell, and had been
looking forward to the evening for fun and relaxation. So did I,
although perhaps in a different way.

"Perhaps we can go out, get dressed up and hit some bar,
somewhere. I'd love to see you in something short, as you know," I
said.

Kyra looked up, peering over the magazine.

"I know what you like, you pervert! If it was up to you, I would be
going around all the time in a pair of heels, some stockings, and not
much else. No thank you. Do you have a real suggestion, playboy?"

Heels, stockings... I liked that. "Kyra, conditioning level beta."

Her face went blank. She put down her magazine, stood up slowly, and
started to move her hips to some music only she could hear.

I looked at her. She was wearing a pair of jeans, relaxed fit, and a
large tee-shirt. Perfect domestic attire. It would not do at all.

"Kyra, stop. Do you mind changing before dancing for me?" I asked,
fully knowing the answer.

"Of course, honey, what would you like me to strip out of?" she asked,
her voice deliciously husky.

"Remember what you were wearing to the party a couple of months ago?
That red dress, white stockings, white thong, and white spiked heels?
You looked simply scrumptious, and I would love to see that outfit
again."

Kyra smiled a sexy smile.

"I remember. I'll be right back," she said, heading to the
bedroom. "Don't go anywhere."

Disgustingly pleased with myself, I sat down on the couch, and idly
started thumbing through the magazine Kyra had been reading, my mind
wholly on the upcoming show and what I knew would follow, anticipation
gripping me tightly.

Ten minutes later, after I had been dragged into a magazine story
about the latest misfortunes of the rich and famous, I was snapped
back to reality by the sound of music coming from the stereo system, a
slow pounding music. Looking up, I saw Kyra, her back to me, facing
the CD rack, her hands against the wall, hips slowly keeping the
beat. Despite having seen this quite a few times over the last month,
I could not help but be momentarily breathless.

Kyra was stunning, short red dress stopping short of the middle of her
thighs, trapped in the same white stockings and the same white heels I
had already seen her in. She had let her hair down from the ponytail
she was sporting earlier, and she had brushed it and teased it, near
as I could tell. And she was standing before me, leaning against the
wall, slightly bent over, ass sticking out towards me, and swaying
playfully against the musical backdrop.

She turned to look at me over her shoulder.

"This what you wanted, honey?" she asked, huskily, a smile on her
lips. Not waiting for my answer, she turned her head back, pushed
herself off the wall, and started dancing slowly.

And dancing she did. Keeping her back to me, she let her hands slide
down her sides to her thighs, all the while gently swaying to the
music. Rubbing the back of her legs and moving back to the front, she
ever so slowly started lifting her dress, revealing once again the
stocking tops I loved so much, and a notable lack of panties. As she
lifted her dress over her ass, her cheeks were on display, round and
delectable. Still swaying, legs slightly spread, she bent over deeply,
presenting herself to me.

After a beat, she stood up, and slowly pulled down the straps of her
dress. No bra. Covering her chest with her hands, she turned around,
looking me straight in the eyes. My gaze was fixated on her hands,
which slowly started rubbing her breasts, mashing them down. Licking
her lips suggestively, she pulled one hand to her mouth, revealing a
perfectly formed globe, as she slowly sucked on a finger before
returning it to play with a nipple.

As she moved her hands to pull her dress down, I stopped her.

"Wait... Please keep the dress on. There's something wicked about you
half-naked. I do have a special request, however...", I said.

"Mmm, what is it, honey? What can your little stripper do for you?"
she asked.

"Could you lie on the floor, and give me a little leg show?"

"You do like my legs, don't you? You're always ogling them whenever
you get a chance. Sure, I will give you a leg show."

Kyra lowered herself to the ground, sensually, on her back, and lifted
her legs, together and bent at the knees, slowly tracing circles in
the air. She looked the part of an exotic dancer perfectly. The
conditioning was excellent. I watched her squirm on the ground for a
few minutes, teasing me with her legs. Time to test other parts of her
conditioning.

"Wow," I said. "You look good. You know, I wish you would just spread
your legs, started fingering yourself, all the while begging me to
fuck you like the slut you are."

Kyra laughed.

"You wish! No, honey, this is strictly visual, and strictly
business. You get what you pay for, you know. Besides, I'm no slut,
just a poor working girl."

Oh yeah? Time to test that theory.

"Kyra, conditioning level gamma."

Instantly, she shivered, and gasped.

"Oh my God, I feel so hot," she said, putting her heels down on the
floor and spreading her legs wide. "I need a good fuck right now!"

I smiled. I guessed the slut conditioning trigger worked as predicted.

"Hey sweetie, show me that slutty cunt of yours, would you?"

Her hands came down to her thighs, and slowly moved up her pussy,
spreading the lips wide.

"Like this? You like to see my pretty cunt open for you? Does that
make you want to fuck it? Would you like to fuck it? I'm told it's
nice and tight."

That it was. It took a lot of control to keep from jumping her right
then and there. But I had other kicks I wanted to explore. Anyone with
an ounce of psychological insight could have seen this coming. Sexual
payback, pure and simple.

"I don't know, how much do you want me to fuck your cunt?" I asked,
settling back into the couch.

"I'm so horny right now, I'd kill for a cock. Please come here and
fuck me." She slowly lifted her ass off the ground and gyrated it
suggestively, all the while using a finger to fuck herself. I could
see her pussy glistening with juices.

"Well, I don't know. You will have to make me want to fuck you. You
know what I like? Shameless sluts, shameless sluts that would do
anything for a fuck, shameless sluts that talk dirty to their man
because it turns him on. Are you a shameless slut, Kyra? Are you a
dirty-mouthed little whore?"

"Oh yes, I am a little whore," she said. She added a finger to the one
already pumping away inside her. "Look at me. I am dripping wet just
thinking about your big cock fucking my little cunt. I need you
inside, deep. I'll do anything you want, just come here and fuck me."

"Anything I want?"

"Uh uh... anything you want. Look at me, don't you like this? You have
me on the floor, legs spread, dressed like a porn star, finger-fucking
myself. Do you want me to come like this for you, half-naked on the
floor?"

She lifted her head, looking at me through her spread legs.

"Perhaps you'd like me to suck on your cock while you watch me? I was
told I give really good head," she said, licking her lips. "In fact,
forget about giving you a blowjob. You can just come here and fuck my
mouth. Just use it like a cunt. I'll take it. I'll even let you grab
my head and push your cock in down deep, push until it goes down my
throat. I won't mind. I'll do it if you'll fuck me."

Damn, that was an attractive proposition.

"I don't know," I said.

Kyra pushed herself off the ground, and kneeled before me legs spread
wide, one hand still rubbing her slit, the other cupping a breast.

"How about my tits?" she said. "I know guys really like it, having
their cock sliding between a slut's tits. Would you like that? Would
you like to tit-fuck me? They're not big, I know, but they should be
big enough. Wouldn't you like to slide your cock between them?"

Hell yeah, I thought. I'd love to sit on your chest and fuck your
tits.

"I don't know," I said.

Kyra actually pouted for a second, squirming in place as she rubbed
herself. I know, from the tape, that she could not come until I came
deep in her. She would just get hotter and hotter.

She smiled, and slowly turned around, still on her knees, and bent
over, putting her head on the ground. She lifted her dress over her
back, and spread her legs again. Oh boy, I thought, here we go.

"I know you like my ass," she said. "You're always watching it when
you think I'm not looking, always grabbing it, rubbing it. So how
about fucking me from behind, like this, so you can look at my ass all
you want while you fuck me? Wouldn't you like to fuck me from behind,
like this, me on all four, ass up in the air? Wouldn't you like to
fuck me like a little bitch in heat, your little bitch in heat?" She
was swaying her ass as she talked, fingers still rubbing her cunt.

She pushed a couple of fingers in, and gasped.

"Oh, I would love to have you fuck me like this. I bet you could go in
real deep. You could just grab my hips and pull me to you, over and
over again. The harder, the better. You can fuck me rough if that's
what you want. Is that what you want? To hear me plead, beg you? Hell,
you can even tie me up if it helps, tie me up so I can't move and
defend myself. You could really do anything you wanted then, fuck me
as rough as you'd like, use me in whatever way you wanted."

I gave up resistance. As she kept spewing her filth, I practically
jumped out of my pants, kneeled down behind her, with her ass still in
the air, pulled her hand out of her cunt, and speared my cock into
her, slowly, until I was completed sheathed.

"Oh yeah," she said. "Fuck me! Oh God, I feel so full!"

The feeling was heavenly. Her cunt was tight, and warm. It felt like I
had wrapped it in a heated velvet glove. I had fucked Kyra before, of
course, but I could swear that this time it was different. Usually,
when we fucked, she would be naked. Now, she was half dressed, still
had her fuck-me pumps on, her dress was flipped over her back, and she
was only lacking a pair of panties. But I also thought that her cunt
was tighter; she must have been using her muscles to milk me while I
was inside. Another side effect of the conditioning?

I took her previous suggestion to heart. I slowly pulled out, and when
the head of my cock was just outside her cunt, I grabbed her hips, and
slowly but forcefully pulled her to me, splitting her apart with my
cock. She groaned, put her chest down on the carpet, and lifted her
ass to provide me with greater access.

"That's it, fuck me deep, just like that," she said, gasping. She
turned her face towards me. "Come on, don't be gentle. Use me, I'm
your fucktoy."

I took her to heart, and pulled out, and slammed into her harder. And
again. And again. It felt wonderful, out of control.

"Uh... uh... uh... That's it, fuck me... I want to feel you come deep
in me. Please come, please come..." she said, turning slowly
incoherent.

I was close. The sight of her, the feel of her, was bringing me to
the edge. Kyra sneaked a hand through her legs, and gently started
massaging my balls.

That was it for me. Seconds before exploding, I pulled my cock out of
Kyra's cunt and came, spurting long jets of cum on her ass, all the
way up to the dress flipped over her back. I collapsed next to her,
spent.

Kyra lied next to me, pouting slightly. "I thought you would come in
my cunt, honey? What happened?"

Eyes still closed, I took a breath before replying. "You will take my
cum wherever I put it, you slut. Now if you want to feel me in that
whorish twat of yours again, you will clean me up with your mouth and
get me hard. And do a good job."

Kyra shivered noticeably at the mention of her pussy getting fucked
again. She dove for my cock, cleaning it with long licks of the tongue
before taking the head between her lips and sucking me deep in her
mouth.

She got me hard again before too long, and we spent the rest of the
evening fucking away. I used her in all the positions I could think of
and physically achieve: she sat on my cock, fucking herself up and
down, she leaned over the couch, head in the pillows, as I took her
from behind again, she lay on her back on the ground, my favorite,
legs bent back so her knees were next to her ears, white pumps in the
air. I made it a point not to come in her cunt until the very end, to
keep her from getting off. I came on her tits, on her face, in her
hair. She had lost her dress at some point, but I had her keep her
stockings and her heels. It was a glorious evening.

That whole week was glorious, really. I activated Kyra whenever I
would get a chance, sometimes in public settings. I made her bring
herself off in a restaurant, for a promise of a quick fuck in the
bathroom. I had her suck me off sitting under her desk, in her office
at the university. Once after a full day of fucking without letting
her come, I drove her so wild that I took her for a drive and had her
flash her breasts to some random college student.

At home, I often had her in some skimpy, vastly cliched outfit. She
had a french maid costume that hardly covered her chest and barely
reached her crotch. Her legs looked fantastic in that costume,
especially with a tall pair of heels. I had a weakness for stockings,
and often made her wear a black sheer pair held up by a thin black
garter, nothing else, except for black heels. I made her fuck herself
with a candle, a bottle of wine, a huge black dildo that I made her
purchase.

Frustratingly, however much I begged, threatened, or manipulated, she
would not let me put my cock in her ass. Her resistance was too deep,
too strong. She would come out of her conditioned state when I pushed
her too much on that point, her resistance was that strong. The most
she let me do was stick my finger in her ass when she was really
turned on. The feeling of her ass gripping my finger tight, tighter
than I thought possible, made me fantasize about fucking her ass ever
more.

My fantasies would eventually get fulfilled, but the price would be a
steep one.


				  IV

Flash forward two months. Two months of unbridled sexuality, where I
used Kyra in every way I could think of.

She was right now on the bed, on her hands and knees, ass up in the
air, looking like a wet dream in a black corset, black stockings, and
patent leather heels. No panties, they would only get in the way. I
had just fucked her, and her juices were dripping down her thighs. I
had not come, though. I was saving myself.

"You don't wanna fuck me some more, honey?" Kyra asked, bottom
undulating hypnotically from left to right.

Time to enact what I learned on the fourth and last tape. A few weeks
ago, under the assumption that Kyra and I were being watched - I
already knew that there were cameras - I tried to convey a
message. Feeling self-conscious and vaguely ridiculous, I stood in the
middle of our living room, and out loud, addressing whoever was behind
what was done to my fiancee, I made a special request: her ass. A week
later, a new tape was waiting for me back at my own apartment. It
showed Kyra in her office at the university, leaning down on her desk,
skirt lifted over her back, legs spread, getting fucked from behind by
a large black man. There was no sound. The voiceover kicked
in. "Mr. Steadman, your request was taken into consideration, and we
have approved it." At this point, to punctuate the words rather
dramatically, the black man said something to Kyra, pulled out of her
pussy, spat on her asshole, and slowly entered her ass. I was
mesmerized, and incredibly turned on. I pulled my own cock out, and
started jacking off. That I might be disgusted or upset watching my
fiancee losing her anal virginity on tape did not even register.

"However, Mr. Steadman, there will be a price to pay. You will find
out what it is in due time; your little slut herself will tell you."
The black man was slamming hard into Kyra, driving her into the
desk. She appeared to be screaming.

"This will be the last time you hear from us. Enjoy the rest of your
life, Mr. Steadman."

On the screen, the black stud had just pulled out and was coming on
Kyra's ass, spraying semen all the way up the back of her skirt.

That was then, this was now.

"Kyra, conditioning level delta," I said, stroking my cock, still wet
with her pussy juices.

"Mmm, baby, I feel like being naughty," said Kyra, exaggerating the
sway of her hips.

She reached a hand down between her legs, dipping two fingers in her
pussy, and started playing with her rosy asshole. She pushed one
finger in to the first knuckle, then the second.

"Mmm, I wish this was a hard cock right now. Say, do you happen to
know anyone who would be willing to put a nice cock up my ass?" She
looked at me over her shoulder.

I smiled.

"I think I do," I said.

I positioned myself behind her, rubbed my cock against her pussy lips
for lubrication, and put the head against her rosette.

"Is this what you want?" I asked, "A hard cock up your ass?"

"Oh yes, that's it... give it to me..."

"What do we say?"

She groaned, pushed her ass back against me. "Oh please! Please! Put
it in. Fuck my ass, please!"

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Please! It's nice and warm and tight in there. And you've been
wanting to fuck me there for so long. I've seen you, checking me out,
and I'm sure you've fantasized about stuffing my ass whenever I've
bent over in the past. And how many times have your fingers strayed to
my little asshole when you put your hands down my PJs or up my skirts?
And what about the time when... ooh!"

I pushed hard, and my cockhead forced her sphincter and penetrated her
ass. It felt incredible. If her cunt was warm velvet, her ass was
molten metal.

Kyra's head shot up, and she started moaning.

"Oh fuck, yes! You're so big; I feel so full! I think I am feeling
every vein in that big cock of yours. I want more, all of it, in,
hard! Fuck my ass, honey, hard!"

I obliged. Grabbing the top of her thighs, I used them as leverage to
push myself deep into her ass. Her moans slowly turned into screams as
I got deeper.

Finally, I felt her ass cheeks against my groin, and I was all the way
in. I slowly pulled out, and pushed in deep again, faster this
time. Before long, I was ramming in and out, while Kyra had brought a
hand down between her legs and was diddling her clit, screaming all
the while.

"I'm gonna come, my little ass-whore. You want me to squirt deep
inside you?"

"Oh God yes! Spurt in me, deep in my ass. I want to feel it." She
reached down between her legs, and her long fingers stroked my balls,
squeezing them whenever I pushed into her. Between the tightness of
her ass and her fingers massaging me, I came with a loud grunt,
pushing into her and grinding myself against her ass.

Afterwards, I collapsed next to Kyra, my softening cock slipping out
of her ass, and coming to rest on my thigh. Kyra snuggled next to me,
facing me, and, wrapping her arms and legs around me, a lovely vision
in her corset and stockings, tits sticking out and offered. She kissed
me long and hard.

"Thank you, honey. I will be your ass-whore from now on. Whenever you
want, just let me know. I just love your cock up my ass."

I was barely conscious at that point. Which is why I almost missed the
changed look of her eyes, and the odd cheery tone of voice she used
for her next statement.

"But there is a price to pay for my ass. Come see me tomorrow, at
three o'clock, in my office at the university. You will get the bill
then."

				 ***

I showed up at the university slightly before three o'clock. I had no
idea what to expect. I entered Kyra's building, a simili-gothic
monstrosity, and made my way to the third floor, passing empty-eyed
students and tired-looking faculty. Kyra's office was down the main
hallway. She shared it with a couple of other graduate students. As I
was about to knock, I heard the telltale sounds of coupling coming
from inside. With dread, I quietly turned the handle, and pushed the
door open enough to be able to glance into the office.

Kyra was kneeling, topless, breasts swinging rhythmically in time with
the bobbing of her head into the groin of a guy I recognized as Gary,
one of her officemates. He was sitting in an office chair, and his
hands were wrapped in Kyra's hair on either sides of her head. His
eyes were closed, a look of ecstasy on his face. Kyra was giving him
one of her sloppy blowjobs, and I could hear the sounds from where I
was by the door. Once in a while she would gag, following a
particularly vicious pull of her head.

"I wanna come on your tits, babe," he said, pulling Kyra's head off
his cock. She started jacking him off, faster and faster, aiming the
stiff cock at her chest. After a dozen strokes, he convulsed and let
out thick spurts of semen that quickly coated Kyra's breasts.

"Oh yeah... that's it... man! That was good. You're an incredible
cocksucker, Kyra. I hope your pussy feels as good as your mouth does."
He leaned back in the chair. "Now clean me up, Kyra."

Kyra dutifully obeyed, licking off the semen still dripping from
Gary's cock. When she was done, the phone rang. Gary reached for
it. Kyra was still on her knees, a familiar blank look on her face,
semen dripping down her chest and staining her jeans.

"Yes, Gary here." He nodded into the phone. "Hey, Mike. Hi. Yeah,
she's here. You heard? Yeah, I know. I couldn't believe it
either. Figured it was just a bad joke. But no, I just tried it, and
it worked. No shit, she's on her knees now, and she just gave me the
best fucking blowjob I've ever got. Deepthroat, dude, she took me down
all the way. She was gagging on it... No, not yet, but that's next on
my list. Yeah, I know, she got killer legs and a sweet little
ass... No, she's got jeans on today, but not for very long. Hey, I
wanted to try her pussy out, but you're more than welcome to come
up... The dude on the phone this morning said we could make her dance
and strip and stuff, make her act like a whore that can't get
enough... Figure by the time word finishes getting around the
department, it'll be tough to get some time alone with
her. Okay... Yeah, I know where she lives, so yeah, we definitely
should go visit her sometimes. Now, quit yapping, and come up
here. Meantime, I wanna get myself some fresh pussy... yeah, bye."

Gary hung up, looked at Kyra, and smiled a rapacious smile.

"Well, baby, looks like we've got ourselves a party. What did the dude
say? Kyra, conditioning level gamma."

I silently closed the door, and made my way down the hall, too numb to
think. In that alternate state, I made my way out to a little park
next to the building, in the harsh sunlight. It was a beautiful day.

				 ***

I eventually married Kyra. I still loved her, and that I could do
essentially anything I wanted to her was an added bonus. But it was a
strange life.

As I had gleaned from Gary's phone conversation, she became the
departmental whore, for lack of a better term. The folks who
conditioned her - I never did find out who they were - must have
spread the news within her department that with certain triggers, she
could be made to put out. And the members of the department took full
advantage of the opportunity. Who knew there were so many amoral
sickos around? She often came home with her cunt leaking cum down her
thighs, breasts bruised and tender, breath smelling of semen. She was
completely oblivious to it all. From what I gleaned, she was often
called into a professor's office, made to kneel under the desk and
give a sloppy blowjob. At other times, she would be called into the
faculty lounge, made to lean over the couch there and being fucked by
everyone present over the lunch hour. She was very popular at the
annual Christmas party, dressed as an elf with a very short green
tunic, and high-heeled boots, and doing a slow striptease that ended
with her blowing and fucking the whole male contingent of the
department, and quite a few of the women too.

As far as I could tell, I was the only one with access to her ass,
although many tried their hands at fucking her there. But I was
starting to find the price to pay for that privilege, namely shared
control of my wife with fifty or so other men, a bit steep.
