Title: She Is Mine And I Want Her Back
Keywords: mc, mF, inc, teen, mdom, mom, son, anal, cheat, mat
Author: Caesar
Summary: Realizing that his wife is cheating on him with her own son and that his son is using some kind of drug to turn his mother into his sex slave, he wants her back.











There was an old man of Calcutta
Who spied through a chink in the shutter.
        But all he could see
        Was his wife's bare knee,
And the back of the bloke who was up her.




She Is Mine And I Want Her Back

by Caesar, copyright 2001

$Revision: 1.12 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

All the signs are there - Catherine is having an affair.

After eighteen years of marriage it seemed like an impossibility - yet
the woman who makes my supper is not the woman who I've lived with all
these years.  What I mean is that she looks the same but Catherine
certainly does not act the same as she has for these many years.

Oh certainly we have aged, matured, grew in all ways.  Yet the
transformation that I'm talking about has happened in a matter of
weeks and not over years.

Just two days ago I unexpectedly appeared in her office, guessing her
mystery lover was a co-worker.  Sound hypothesis, as Catherine spends
at least ten hours a day at work - and has earned the partnership she
has achieved at her law firm.  Yet, all seemed normal and I felt the
fool for my suspicions.

That same night I caught a glimpse of my wife's white breast before
she slipped her silk nightgown over her head, it had what I assumed to
be a dark purple hickey upon its normally unmarked surface.  I
couldn't sleep a wink that night.

Yesterday I sat in my car, following her from our home to her office,
and then back to our home.  Obsessive right - but if she was cheating
on me, it had to be with someone?

My wife has changed these last weeks - she cut her long thick hair,
the first time since before I knew her, so it was short and stylish.
Sure it looked good, but why cut it now... and so unexpectedly?  Then
there was the lingerie - and I mean always.  Stockings, always thigh
high, lace panties and bra, sometimes a chemise.  Then there was the
skirts, never below the knee and always taunt upon her shapely ass.
I'm not sure if I've seen her wear anything but a short skirt within
the last month.

Last night I purposely strode into our private bathroom and found my
wife drying herself before the filled tub.  Catherine always enjoyed a
lengthy bath on a Friday night.  I pretended that I didn't know the
bathroom was occupied, as I always granted her the privacy she craved
for her baths, and started to back out.  Then I looked down and my
blood turned cold when I saw that her normally well-trimmed but full
brown pussy was gone.

I didn't sleep a wink last night.

Who was shagging my wife?

 -*-

Saturday I didn't go golfing, as I normally do, so depressed was I.
And Catherine didn't go out so I didn't think there was a way to find
her mystery lover unless she left the house.

So I just sat and watched sports.

Doug woke up late, as usual, and sat next to me on the couch for a
while - watching football.  Then he got up, showered and left the
house like it was on fire.  All perfectly normal, of course.

Catherine was upstairs, singing beautifully to herself as she stripped
down the beds and cleaned the upper level of our home.  I've offered
to get someone to help with the chores, she always said she enjoyed
doing the mindless work - helped her escape from the stress as a
corporate lawyer.

What will help me escape from this maddening weight of my life feeling
like it was coming to an end.

With slow heavy steps I went upstairs as Catherine had gotten most of
the bed sheets to the basement and I could hear her singsong voice
distantly through the heating system.  The laundry room was
downstairs, and I knew she would be working in the basement for at
least the next thirty minutes.

Our home was pretty big for the three of us - and I've worked
incredibly hard these last dozen years that we've lived here, just to
enjoy it.  It had five bedrooms - only two are occupied.  The third is
used as an office for my wife and I.  The last two as spare bedrooms.

The two bedrooms had the doors wide open and the windows wide, letting
in fresh air.  Doug's bedroom was an organized mess, as any sixteen
year olds should be; with model world war two aeroplanes hanging in
the corner, from a large quantity of various books on the shelf, old
hockey trophies, his computer, a pile of clothes... all normal.

I stopped before I passed the doorway and looked into his room
carefully.

Something had stopped me and I wasn't sure what.

I went into my son's room and looked around - I don't come in here
much, but it all appeared normal.  Next to his desk stood what was
obviously a computer case - what was that next to his monitor then?
Two computers?

That couldn't be what I had seen, as the computer case next to his
desk was hidden from the hallway.  No, was something else.

There - upon the bedside table - a razor in a drinking glass.

Why was that peculiar?

Doug doesn't shave.

It had dried white shaving cream and several hairs stuck between the
blades - he hadn't cleaned it after it was used.  Those hairs - thick
brown, some gray... curly...!

My god!

It couldn't be.  Doug and his mother?  Impossible.

Right?

My heart was racing and my legs wanted to run out of there - to escape
these ludicrous thoughts that I was having.  Catherine and her son!

Unconsciously I backed out of the room and down the hallway - somehow
I ended up in the garage fumbling to open my Jaguar's door.

 -*-

I never even went back till late Saturday night - drunk.  At first I
thought to confront the two - already convinced that it was real.  The
whore!  She will ruin everything in her life for her taboo
relationship - I will kick the bitch out of my home.

How I drove home in that shape, is a miracle.

The house was dark and my bedroom silent.  I lay upon it and let the
tears flow.

I don't know when I awoke - but my cloudy mind was clearer and the
pain in my soul renewed.  I was still alone.

My head spun as I stood but with patience and determination, I was
able to make it to the bathroom.  I pissed and then puked my guts out.
When I stood before the mirror and brushed my teeth, I saw the note
stuck to the mirror.

    "Honey.  Taking Doug to his friends and then going to Marys' -
    back late.  C"

Lying bitch!

Then it hit me - what if I had put two and two together and come up
with three?  A middle-aged mother and professional wife wouldn't sleep
with her own adolescent son would she?  Crazy.  My wife was too smart
to do something illegal and immoral as that!

My head pounded as I hung upon this theory - I stumbled back to Doug's
room.

I saw that my wife had made the bad, closed the windows and tidied up
the clean clothing.

The cup with the soiled razor was gone.

I spun about for a minute, lost in the organized mess, wondering what
I was doing here.  It was all a figment of my imagination after all!

If Catherine was shagging someone, and all the signs told me she was,
it couldn't be with Doug.

Could it?

I turned the monitor on - already noticing that the box was running.

I'm a Systems Analyst currently, but I was once a programmer - I
changed my career solely for the money.  My son used Windows while I
was used to various Unix operating systems - for some reason I found
it comforting for his choice, as it made my nosey peeking that much
easier.

I stole through the desktop in a matter of minutes.  Nothing untoward.

Then I opened his mail - finding hundreds of correspondence from his
friends, a couple from his teachers and a few from my wife or I.  I
looked in the latest email - from his friend Pero:

    "Hey shitforbrains.  Sorry you couldn't make it.  Who is the girl
    you are poking now anyway?"

That black sinking feeling was returning.

I organized the mail by sender and looked at the last from my wife:

    "Hi honey.  I bought the razor like you told me too - doing these
    things for you makes me feel so horny baby.  Your father came to
    the office today, he might be getting suspicious - you keep saying
    he won't be a problem but I am worried.  I love you darling and I
    want you.  PS - I'm going to miss my pussy!"

That was the final proof to disintegrate my life, as my heart turned
to clay and my soul clouded with oil.

What I told myself was impossible was happening - she was a willing
participant, the bitch!

I kept searching, don't ask me why, looking through my son's web
cache, the temporary files and then manually searching the file
system.

I read more of my wife's email, several which were much more graphic
and obviously intended for our son.  It seems that she loved the taste
of his sperm, if what she wrote can be believed - though she had never
felt the need to even sample my own.

Then I came across an earlier email from Pero:

     "... no such thing as mind-control buddy!  What makes you think
     you have a drug that works?"

'Mind-control'?

I returned my son's computer and room to how I found it.

 -*-

With a cold determined heart I went through my home - looking for
drugs that was alluded to in the email.  What would they look like,
these pills?  Were they pills?

Could this be how Doug seduced his mother?  Was there such a thing as
'mind-control' - its all science fiction wasn't it?

My son had a large collection of keepsakes in the basement - mostly
old toys, clothing and books.  But since I was searching my home like
a madman, I immediately noticed that one of the boxes on the top of
the pile had none of the thick dust that its neighbours had.

I pulled it from the pile and bent over as I opened the lid.  Inside
was several binders, a few vials of clear liquid and a small box of
Polaroids.

Carefully I held up the vials and starred hard at the contents.  Was
this the stuff?

The first binder seemed to be a chemical compound and recipe, for the
lack of a better word, to create what must be in the vial.

The third binder was lengthy descriptions about actions and reactions.
Effects of the drug?

The small box of Polaroids almost made me sick - it was Catherine and
Doug, naked, fucking and smiling.

 -*-

I disappeared for a week and the box went with me.  I locked down the
bank accounts and changed codes for the house, banks and credit cards.

During that week I sat in a hotel a few hundred kilometres away and
read every word in those binders.  Finding that the fifth binder was
my son's diary for the last three months.

It was all contained there - finding the drug, testing it on his
teacher and then his mother.  It seemed it didn't do much for his
teacher, that was the reason for the second test subject, his mom.  He
used it on his mother - then went into detail about the things he did
with her the next few months.  It was all there - every incestuous
detail.  Even the times and type of copulation, to the minute.  And he
made small notes in the margins, small additions about what clothing
his mother wore and her reactions to his instructions, for instance.

 -*-

My son looked like the end of his world was about to happen when he
came home from school to find me standing angrily inside the doorway.
There was no pretence, he knew I had his box - his drug - the
evidence.  It was written upon his face.

"Dad!"

"Close the door Doug."  He did, letting his school back drop to the
floor.

"Dad let me explain?"

Explain how he had found the original binder with the formula to make
this mind-control potion, then use it to enslave his mother as his
personal sex toy?

Could I forget the things I read, the graphic photos I've seen?
Things even a husband never knew, never experienced with the woman
whom he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with?

Catherine always claimed she didn't like attention to her ass, or more
specifically her ass hole.  Yet, Doug was attracted to that part of
her more than any other.  I've read description after description, how
and when, about fucking his mothers ass.  The thing was, he had
written in the margins how much she enjoyed it, sometimes begged for
it - his tongue, finger and especially his cock.  He explained that
his mom often wild when he was inside that part of her and he guessed
that she loved it more than he did.

Perhaps it was a fetish, but my son seemed to enjoy viewing his mother
with his ejaculate upon her.  Many of the pictures in Doug's files
showed his sperm on her face, his favourite place, her ass and her
breasts.  The notes were more descriptive, and it appeared that he
probably shot his sperm upon every inch of his mother - her hands, her
feet, her hair... everywhere.  Within the notes, my son also describes
how he enjoyed watching his mother lick his sperm up.  As an example,
he had her get him 'off' three times one afternoon - each time in the
same glass cup.  At the end of the day, she drank it down at his
instruction.  From his notes, it appeared that Catherine more than
encouraged this behaviour - begging for her son to come on her face,
wanting to go to work with her bra wet from a morning tit fuck,
rubbing his sperm into her smooth ass cheeks before climbing back into
her marriage bed.

Oh yes, things in this home have changed!

"Shut up boy."  Wisely he did.  I was ready to beat him to a pulp
right then.

"Was it for the money?"  His mother had always been firm with
dispensing money to her child - believing he should earn it.  His
diary never mentioned why he used the drug on his mom - so to my
logical mind, there had to be some rational reason.

Doug couldn't meet my eye and stared at his feet.

"Or just the sex?"  With my wife - his mother!

"At first it was because it was fun."  He was barely whispering.

"Fun to enslave people - your mom?"  I was almost screaming.

"Later it was for the money and maybe the power."

"Your mom is mine Doug."  He nodded, looking lost.

Did I still want her?

I knew I did - I came to that conclusion last night in the hotel room.
But the woman I wanted was the new woman, the sex slave.

"You will help convince her that everything is fine until I
'reprogram' her."  Words from his diary - used often.  I was picking
up the lingo!

Again he nodded.

I let out a sigh - perhaps of relief that my son as not fighting me
about this.  I had been ready to force it out of him with my fists, if
it had come to that.

This is what I had resolved, after reading all that material -
discovering a darker world than the one that I've lived in - it was
better to mold this 'power' to how I saw fit.  To be the dominant
rather than one of the slaves.

And yes, I believed all that I read - it made sense out of this crazy
world I found myself in.  My son had used some type of drug to enslave
his mother for his own incestuous enjoyment.  Its the only thing that
made sense of the craziness I found myself in - I just couldn't
believe my wife would have intercourse with her own son without some
type of persuasion.  As outrageous as that 'persuasion' seemed.

Then there was the other idea I had; I've worked for years, making
good money definitely, but always for someone else - and never for the
wads of cash that some of my employers made.  What Doug had found
could bring me the riches and power that I've barely dreamt about.

It also brought me something else I've not considered, a truly
submissive wife, Catherine.

From the photos I've seen of my son and his mother, it was obvious he
had used her in nearly every way imaginable.  All the while she wore
this smile of satisfaction, of ecstasy - I'll never forget that look
as it seemed to stare at me through the photos.  The woman looking
through the photo's was enjoying the things she had to do - the
perversions her son ordered her to do.

The door behind Doug opened and in strode my wife.  I saw her face
take on a thankful look, a scared look and then turn very angry, "My
god Ron - where the hell have you been these...!"

Doug motioned lightly and softly spoke, "Mom - 'Doe'.  Take it easy
mother... everything is fine.  Go start supper."  From the diary I've
read I knew that 'doe' was the keyword that my son has implanted in
his mother.  It took a second after he had spoke it - but I saw the
angry leave her and she suddenly became placid.

She smiled at our son and strode past me, as if I was not there,
toward the kitchen.  Her 'master' had spoken.

Had I seen a look of surprise in her eyes when he spoke her keyword?

It may have been my first true sight of the drug in action but I was
impressed at the small display.  Catherine was a strong willed and
intelligent woman - when her blood was boiling, she could vent her
anger in some very aggressive and loud ways.  Obviously she was not as
strong willed as the control her son had over her!

"Good boy."  He was again looking at me carefully, maybe for some sign
of a trick or even compassion.  "Tonight she is mine again?"

"Yes sir."

"After supper I want you to go to Pero's till I allow you back in my
home."  He nodded submissively.  I had read within the diary how Pero
and my son had tried to use the drug on the other boy's older sister -
it hadn't worked, but regardless, they discovered the older teenager
thought nothing in life could be better than two young studs to keep
her happy.  Mostly she had her younger brother to satisfy her, Doug
enjoying his mother instead, but I knew from my son's graphic
descriptions of their threesome's that my boy would not be too bad off
staying at his friend's house.

 -*-

Catherine blinked away her fog and stared at me in surprise.  "What
happened honey... I remember us eating supper...?"

I pulled her into my arms and my wife's head fell to my shoulder
automatically, "Its OK honey, just a bit too much wine for supper."

Doug had gone twenty minutes ago.  I had just changed my wife's
keyword and altered a few items of our son's 'programming'.

"I was thinking Catherine - that you should sell off your portion of
the firm and stay home?"

It was a feeler question - after all that I've read and understood, it
still seems surreal.  My wife has worked for fifteen years at her
company to get where she was.  I had always wondered if she had to
choose between her family and her work, what her answer would be?

Catherine's face turned up so that our eyes would meet, "Is that what
you want honey?"

I simply nodded.  Waiting.

She nodded as well, and then cuddled into my torso, "I'll do it first
thing tomorrow morning."

It worked!

"You are going to be busy tomorrow darling."

"Busy tomorrow?"

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass tomorrow."

Catherine sighed and wiggled into me again, "That sounds wonderful my
love."  Then she giggled like a little girl and I knew she was mine.

My wife looked up with a mischievous face, "What about tonight Ron?"
My son had let slip that his mother was insatiable when they had been
alone - I didn't believe it till now.

Our lips met and it was like kissing another woman - as there was a
new submissive hunger in her full red moist lips.  It wasn't my wife
that pressed her chest into mine and who was already panting with need
as we mixed saliva.  This was a new woman that I had created for my
own self - a reflection of the woman I married.

My tongue slipped past her lips and she sucked it like a a small cock
- my dick pressing painfully into my pants.  Her full 'C' cup breast
pressed into my palm and I felt her half-cup bra beneath the silk
blouse - her nipple already hard and throbbing.

I ripped at the buttons, the skimpy bra caught as well, pulling and
ripping it out of the way so that her one breast was open and free.  I
pulled my lips from hers and looked down at what should be a familiar
bust - but it was like I was looking at another woman's chest.

Catherine sighed loudly as I swallowed her wide dark brown hard nipple
deep into my mouth, pressing her chest toward me.

"Suck me baby... oh god...!"

I pulled from her and starred at the wild look in her face, it is what
she used to call our son when they fucked.  "Call me 'Master'
Catherine."

It was her punishment and my prize, for her to live a new life as my
toy.  To use the words and be the person that she was ordered to be.

She nodded a small look of pleasure on her face.  "Yes Master."

"You are no longer my wife - only a cunt."

"Yes Master."  Her smile was not so broad but her eyes had turned
almost submissive, a look I rather enjoyed.

"And I will keep you for as long as I find pleasure in you.  Do you
understand slave?"

She nodded firmly and with no reservation, "I am your slave, I am
yours for as long as I can bring you pleasure.  I understand my
Master."

I starred into her eyes for a long while gauging her mind... the one I
had reprogrammed minutes before.  Gone was all memory of her sexual
interaction with our son, his friends or their mothers.  From this
moment she only knows one cock - never remembers another - mine.

"Get on your knees and suck me off slut."

She rushed to crawl to her knees, anxious to please me.  Today we have
been reborn - she believing we had taken on these new roles without
warning or forethought.  And she would find that it was the 'role' she
was born to play, what she has been missing in her life.  My wife was
now the woman I had taught her to be - a submissive slut.

For the first time in our marriage I felt her lips take the crown of
my cock passionately between them.  Her tongue twirled about the soft
head, tickling the hole.

Catherine thought this was the first cock she had ever tasted, ever
sucked.  She thought the experience that she used upon me was natural,
proof that this was the life she had always meant to lead.

Her face bobbed over my lap, my cock moving slowly and oh so
pleasurably in and out of her warm wet mouth.

The weeks of worrying and hate, the last week of cold discovery and
now this.  It was like it was all necessary, the payment for my future
pleasure.

Catherine swallowed loudly as my come gushed into her mouth again and
again.  Not stopping her gentle passionate sucking till my manhood was
again a portion of its previous impressive size.  Then, and only then
did she release me.

"Did I please you Master?"

How could I answer - it was magical, wild - the most memorable moment
of our marriage for many years.  I could barely talk but managed, "Get
upstairs and wash up."

She climbed slowly to her feet and retreated from the room, watching
me with desire over her shoulder.

 -*-

Catherine was naked and clean from her hour long bath.  The sweat of
her work day gone - my son's hand prints upon her person cleaned away.
She lay pink and scrubbed upon our bed, waiting.

Even from across the room I could see the moisture escaping from
between the pink slit between her legs.  I was undressing facing the
mirror, looking past my shoulder to the bed.  "Spread your legs."  She
immediately complied and I admired her naked loins.  "Keep your cunt
shaved from now on slave."  It was a fitting new look to this new
woman's life.

A small, "Yes Master", from behind me.

I was stepping out of my pants when I a thought came to me - "You no
longer sleep here with me Catherine, unless I want you too - take one
of the spare rooms for yourself and move your things before the
weekend."  A sadness came to her but she nodded her submissive
acceptance.

I knew she had no option.

I turned about, naked but not ready, to stand at the foot of my bed.
"Touch yourself - let me watch you play with yourself."

I've never seen my wife touch her body in a pleasurable way before -
and the next few minutes was enough to revive my dick back to its
previous impressive proportions.  I let her stroke her clitoris and
slip two fingers in and out of her vagina until she squealed and
rolled about in orgasm.

With a lazy tired gaze she licked her hands clean - waiting for
another command from her man.

It came with a nod and she rolled over and backed up till she was upon
her knees at the edge of the bed, before me.  My hard cock slipped
into her hole with ease and my wife bit into the duvet to stifle the
scream of pleasure.

It was my wife I was inside - but the woman that held my cock in her
sheath had a very hot wet cunt, more so in both regards than at any
time in my memory.  Submission seemed to act positively upon her.

So rarely did we couple in this position that I found myself wanting
this method more often for our future.  Now, I knew, it was mine
whenever I felt the desire.

I looked down at the winking muscle of her anus and touched it with my
thumb.  Catherine gasped, having lost all memory of the use of this
part of her body, thinking this hole still virgin.  She would never
deny me anything any longer but I felt the donut hole clench tightly.

My thumb rimmed it playfully as my cock piston in and out of her hot
wet body.  She was gasping and thrusting her hips back so that we
slapped with a loud sloppy echo in the room.  I knew for a certainty
that another orgasm was fast approaching - Doug having installed a
'hair trigger' for her climaxes, as he called it, and I thought not to
reverse this command.

Her sex clenched holding me in a vice before she let out a wail of
pleasure - her vagina suddenly fluttering uncontrollably as her body
felt forwards onto the bed.  I was able to stay submerged inside her
and continued to vigorously fuck in and out of her until her orgasm
subsided.

In less time than it takes to relate, she was again ascending that
erotic summit.  Her body was flat upon the bed but she was pressing
her shapely soft ass up to meet my down-thrusts.  My own balls were
churning and this passionate fuck filling all my expectations.

My seed suddenly shot deep into her and I froze then groaned with
pleasure.  Beneath me my wife was begging for mercy as yet another
orgasm rushed through her body.  I collapsed upon her sweaty smooth
skin and felt my eyes droop with exhaustion.

 -*-

It was the best sleep I've had in years - and the way I woke up was
the best in my life.  Catherine, my slave and my wife, slowly sucked
me with patience and passion she had never shown before.  I simply
allowed my mind to clear and to enjoy her loving mouth.

She would do this for me every morning if I told her too - she had no
choice.  My wife had no choices that conflicted with my own - the drug
had seen to that.

I ejaculated into her with a sigh, letting sleep again overcome me
even with the sounds of her loud swallowing echoing about my
consciousness.

 -*-

The morning passed quickly, a large breakfast served to me by my naked
wife, a long mutual bath scrubbing each other clean, a playful
lingerie show of the most revealing of my wife's undergarments, then
watching her masturbate using only her fingers, but in both of her
lower holes.

I fucked her ass hole just before lunch - only withdrawing from her
rectum after she had two strong orgasms.  Another nasty thought came
to me and I slipped my dirty cock into her willing mouth, smiling at
the sour look upon her face at the taste of her own bowels, and after
a few thrusts left a load of my sperm upon her tongue and on the skin
of her face.

Now that was something my 'original' wife would never have done!

Only peripheral did I remember that my son had used Catherine in this
way before I, though she would never remember it.

Later, she wore a sheer silk negligee about the house when she thought
to ask, "How long is Doug gone Master?"

I froze at the use of his name, but calmed myself - she could not
remember all that had passed between the two of them.  "A while - I'm
thinking of getting an apartment for him closer to school."  She
looked surprised.  "More privacy."  She smiled hugely, at the wisdom
of her Master, no doubt.

 -*-

That very night I had my wife dress in a see-through lace chemise and
stockings, white.  Then I sat in the chair in our living room and as
she sucked me up and down slowly and with passion as I dialled the
phone.

Catherine's sister, Elizabeth, answered the phone.  "Hi Elizabeth."
My wife paused in her work, her face lifting up to stare at me with a
blank expression - though her hand kept stroking my dick
absentmindedly.

"Hi Ron.  Anything wrong?"  I've never called my wife's sister for no
reason before.

You must understand something, Elizabeth was four years younger than
my wife's forty one years and was absolutely gorgeous.  She still had
the long thick brown hair that the sisters had been known for, and a
little more meat on her bones.  In other words, she was voluptuous and
damn sexy.

And I wanted her.

My son had given me the means - the drug.

I put my hand over the receiver and whispered to my slave-wife, "Your
going to get to eat some pussy this weekend honey."

I expected a happy look but got a horrified gaze instead.  Guess I
will have to tweak her programming a little.

"Catherine and I were wondering if you would like to come over for
supper this weekend?  Saturday."  I will be the dessert!

"Supper?  Sure... I guess...?"  She didn't understand - no matter, she
didn't need to as soon as I got the drug into her.  The wild
incestuous group scenes I've secretly fantasized through all my
marriage years can now come true.  If I get to fuck both these sexy
sisters at the same time, to watch them lick my sperm from the cunt of
the other, I could die happy.

"Somewhere nice - so dress up OK Elizabeth?"

"Sure."

I interrupted before she could question the reason for the invitation
- the reason being that I wanted to fuck her before and after she has
sex with her older sister.  "Thanks, see you in a couple of days."

I hung up.

Catherine had stopped stroking my cock and just stared at me in
horror.

"'Doe-cunt'."  It was my wife's new keyword, one that only I knew,
close enough to the old keyword that I would remember it.

"My god Ron!"

Didn't work.  Maybe she hadn't heard me.  "Catherine, 'doe-cunt'!"

My wife sat back on her heels and a disgusted look came to her face.
"Your going to give Elizabeth the drug aren't you?"

I felt a chill running up my spin, the keyword hadn't worked.  How did
she know about the drug - both my son and I had programmed her to
forget that part of her 'conversion'.  Had I done something wrong?

"'Doe-cunt'?"

She started to stand, her hands shaking with anger.  This was my wife
back, the woman I've known for nearly half my life.  The stern
powerful gaze was back.  The submissive look in her eye gone.

I was frozen with surprise and bewilderment.  The fucking keyword
wasn't working!

She continued to ramble, "I fucking can not believe I went along with
this... you pig!"  Catherine stole out of the room and I heard her
storming up the stairs.

I jumped up to follow.

I stood inside the doorway to our room, the bed messy and a pile of
dirty clothing strewn about the floor from our last day of
indiscretion.  She already had the chemise off, added to a small pile
of soiled lingerie at her feet.  My wife was digging through her
drawers, for clothing evidently.

"Catherine?"

She gave me such a look of hatred that it froze me to silence.  "I
want out of this marriage Ron.  You left me so lonely and horny that I
went to all that work to create the formula binder and leaving it so
our son could find it and think he actually found a way to control me
- and do you want to know something?"  She paused to see if I dared
speak, I knew better than that.  "He was a better fuck then you ever
were!"  Catherine screamed out that last sentence and I felt my chin
lower to my chest in shame.

She dug out a large suitcase from the closet and started to throw
clothing into it.

Even as she worked she spoke hastily and angrily, "Then you found out
my little game and I actually believed things would be better between
us - that you may actually want to stay home with me instead of
fucking that slut of a secretary of yours."

That part was true - but irrelevant.  Wasn't it?

She stopped when her suitcase was almost full, a wrinkled track-suit
covering her body, and stared at me again.  "But you had to go to far,
as fucking usual!  You couldn't just be happy with having your wife as
a slave, you had to fucking ruin it by trying to get my sister in
this."

She closed the suitcase and clasped it shut, "Well, I may be stupid
enough to actually go along with this charade but it sure as hell
won't work with Elizabeth.  Her husband actually fucks her!"

Catherine, with suitcase dragging behind her, stomped past me.  I had
no idea where she was going.

I heard her suitcase thumping down the stairs and her continued
mumbling about men, cocks and stupidity.

Then it was my turn to get angry - all of what was just said was
finally digested - there was no 'mind-control', just a slut woman so
horny that she spread and seduced her own son with the crazy scheme
that she had worked so hard to conjure.  When that original plan
became impossible, as I had discovered her indiscretions, she went
along with the story and let her husband fuck and dominate her - else
her story get out.

That was the weakness to Catherine's story wasn't it - she had
committed adultery with a minor, incest with her son.  And in her wild
actions, her son had collected a pile of evidence with photos and a
diary.

Perhaps I couldn't give Elizabeth the drug - but I could get her drunk
enough to loose her inhibitions.  And my darling wife will go along
with it won't she? Help me get at least one night of passion with the
two sisters - what other option did she have?  And with a few photos,
perhaps it could be more than a one night affair.

I smiled even as I yelled out, "Oh Catherine?"

She was going to be my slave after all!

--
