Conversation Pieces

posted in: Mind Control, Stories | 0

Mind Control

by Downing Street
Comments and suggestions always welcome: dowstreet@yahoo.com.

Story I
Voice Activated
Hello? Oh, yes, good morning Mr. Phelps. We’ve been expecting you. Please come in. Let me take your coat. Yes, it is cool this morning. There, I’ll just hang that over here.

Please, come on in. Make yourself at home. Let me show you to the livingroom. I love your suit. It’s so trim and powerful-looking.

What’s that? You didn’t know Darren had a maid? Well, I’m not really — oh, I know, the uniform and everything. Well, I suppose I am, sort of — that is… I help out around the house. I’m Tammy, Crystal’s sister. A pleasure to meet you too. You have very strong hands, Mr. Phelps.

Please, have a seat. Let me adjust those pillows for you. There you go. No, I’m sorry, Darren and Crystal have gone out for a while. I know he’s expecting you though, so they should be back soon.

Well, as far as I know he’s making a few sales calls. Yes, that’s right, Salesman of the Year, he never stops. Oh, no, he likes to take Crystal with him these days. Sort of an assistant, you know? She carries his briefcase, opens doors for him, that sort of thing. Seems to be a big hit with the clients.

No, I… I don’t think she… minds…. at all. I’m, I’m uh, sure she’s she’s h-happy to be… helping… her husband. But where are my manners. Can I get you a drink? Something to eat? Oh, we have everything you can imagine; Darren insists on keeping a well- stocked bar. I do all the shopping so I know exactly what we have.

Just a beer? Sure thing. Domestic or imported? Of course we have that brand. You just wait here, I’ll be right back.

There you go. I hope it’s cold enough for you. Now don’t spill any on that classy silk tie, ‘K?

Thank you, you’re very kind. But actually, I’d prefer to stand. I’m not allowed… I mean, I shouldn’t be sitting when we have a guest. No no, don’t concern yourself. The shoes don’t bother me at all. You get used to them. I wear heels like this all the time; except at the gym, of course. Besides, sitting down in this dress…. well, I’ll stand, thanks.

From the east coast, originally. Yes, that’s right. Big city girl. I was… I mean I am…. a stockbroker. I’m pretty good at it too. I was with Merredith, Wilson and Jenkins for a while. Yes, I know, good firm, I was very lucky. I’m still in the business; I handle all Darren’s investments for him. Oh, go on, I am not too pretty to be a stockbroker. Well, thank you, you smooth-talker. This dress doesn’t hide much, does it?

Why did I decide to do what? Oh, you mean… stay here and… help out around the house? No, I don’t charge Darren anything… he’s well, family, you know? Besides, he let’s me live here and everything. I get a bit of an allowance. I still have my condo back east. It’s in such a good neighbourhood I found I could rent it out for more than the mortgage payments, so I get a tidy profit — er, I mean, Darren gets — oh, you know what I mean.

Upset? Of course I’m not upset. Don’t be silly. Here, let me get you another beer. You’re sure you don’t want something to eat? I did some baking just this morning. That’s the spirit. Here, let me take your glass. I’ll be right back, handsome.

There you go. Help yourself to the pastries. There’s lots more.

No, no thank you. I’m not allowed… er, I mean Darren prefers if I don’t drink during the day. I have to stay in top form, you know? Hey, I didn’t mean that kind of form, silly.

About…oh going on six months. I came out here originally to check up on my kid sister. I was worried about her, to tell you the truth. At that time I… well, I didn’t like Darren very much. I only met him for the first time at the wedding, and he struck me then as really cr–, cru–, cru–, uh, unsophisticated. And no offense, but I wasn’t too thrilled about my sister marrying a travelling insurance salesman. Yes, I know, it’s an honourable profession, I don’t mean to offend one of your employees. Oh, don’t worry about the crumbs, I’ll lick — I mean I’ll clean the floor later.

Anyway, Darren just didn’t seem like he had much class, if you know what I mean. He got drunk at the wedding reception and made a pass at me! No, you little sweet-talker, I wasn’t dressed like this. I was a few pounds heavier too. Let me tell you, I was incensed. I mean, here was my own sister, my only family really, since my parents passed away, getting married to a complete jer–, je–, I mean I didn’t like him very much.

Well, time passed and Darren turned out to be every inch the husband I thought he would be. He was mean to Crystal, he drank like a fish, he flirted with everything in a skirt, he was a complete slob around the house — oh, well, thank you, I do my best to keep it tidy; you never know when a good-looking fellow like you is going to drop by.

Where was I? Oh yes, Darren. Well, the long and short of it is Darren turned out to be a regular a–, an as–, I mean a complete as…. I’m sorry, there are some words I just can’t say. The point is, Darren wasn’t the ideal husband.

To make matters worse, he wasn’t a particularly good insurance salesman either. I think he just got into it so he could try to smooth-talk all the housewives. Oh, he has a tongue on him all right. Did you know he was once arrested for fraud? Long time ago, no conviction, but still it just shows… No, you’re right of course, Mr. Phelps. It’s not important at all. What does it matter, he’s your top salesman now. But he wasn’t Salesman of the Year back then, let me tell you. In fact he barely made his monthly quotas.

Really? Was it that bad? No, I never realized he came so close to being fired. That explains a lot.

You see, one night Crystal called me, terribly upset, and started babbling on about how awful Darren was behaving toward her and how miserable she was and everything. She was in tears, poor thing. To tell you the truth though, I had a little trouble feeling sorry for her. I mean, she was the one that married the guy, right? My sister has always had a bit of a self-esteem problem. Maybe it’s because her older sis was always such an over-achiever. I was making my way up the ladder at Merredith, and a girl’s got to be tough if she’s going to make it there. Still, she’s my sister, and we’ve always been close.

But the real reason for Crystal’s call, and the thing that truly worried me, was Darren had gone and done something incredibly stu-, stu–, uhm, ill-advised. He had paid a preposterous amount of money to buy into some sort of change-your-life scheme he saw advertised in a men’s magazine. Can you believe that?

Well, yes, it was one of those there, as a matter of fact. I can’t recall which one. Bother me? Why should it b-bother me to have a few glossy magazines around the house?

Actually, I, uh, I buy them for Darren. No, really. He’s much too busy to keep up on all the different kinds so I pick up a few issues when I go shopping each week. Darren prefers that I go to a different shop each time, so all the clerks can get to know me.

Oh yes, in my uniform. Or… something even more… revealing. Darren is fond of latex. Sometimes…. sometimes he orders… er, suggests that I flip through a couple of mags in the store, then ask a customer or the salesclerk to… to… uhm, compare me… against, you know… one of the photo spreads. In detail. You, you can’t imagine how embarrassing that is. It gets me so —

Well, enough about that. No, really, I’m f-fine. Just, uh, excitable I suppose.

Can I get you another beer? Sure, why not, it’s Friday. Here, I’ll refill the plate too. Oh, thank you, I’m glad you like them. I never tried baking until recently. You have quite the appetite, don’t you big boy? Will you gobble up anything tempting I put in front of you? Oh, you’re just saying that.

No, please go right ahead. You can thumb through them while you wait. I’ve read them all anyway. Darren insists. Excuse me a minute, I’ll be right back.

There, a fresh cold one. Some more pastries too. Of course you can nibble on — no, not those! (giggle) It’s a little hard to bend over in this dress.

The ad? Oh, yes, I forgot. It was one of those little ads you see in the back pages, you know that sell pheromones and magic glasses and stuff to attract women. Yes, you’ve seen them. This one offered some sort of “confident speaking” program that would make anyone an irresistible orator. Sounded like a complete con to me. But Crystal told me that Darren had gone and ordered the program! It was horrendously expensive. He used up all their savings and even put a second mortgage on the house.

A package arrived in the mail a few weeks later, and Crystal said that Darren started spending all his free time in the basement, practising this so-called “training” program. Every now and again he would look at Crystal and in this funny voice he would say something like “Raise your arm!” or “Bend over!” When Crystal asked him why, he flew into a rage and started giving her no end of abuse.

My sister was very worried. I decided to take a few vacation days and come out to see her.

Well, Darren wasn’t too thrilled when I showed up on his doorstep. I think he was still smarting about the slap I gave him at the wedding. But two days later he tried to hit me up for a loan! Can you believe that? I am — I mean I was — pretty well off, naturally, but I sure wasn’t about to lend any of it to him, even if he was married to my sister. Not so he could blow it all on nonsense from the back of a skin mag. We got into a heated argument that ended when Darren stomped off into the basement again. I could hear him talking to himself down there for hours. Crystal says they had a big fight that night.

Pacing? Was I pacing? Oh, sorry. Please, help yourself to the cookies. Oh, don’t worry about the coffee table, put your feet up. Get comfortable. Yes, of course I’ll tell you the rest.

The very next day, Darren came up to me with this funny look on his face, like he was concentrating real hard. “Stand up,” he said. His voice was different, not his real voice but a kind of stage voice, like he was pretending to be a baritone.

I stood up and said, “What do you want now?”

Darren was still giving me that look. “Lift your left arm,” was all he said.

I stretched, lifting one arm over my head. “Why, what’s going on?”

Darren raised an eyebrow, but he still looked wary. “OK, now, stand on one leg and hop up and down.”

I felt pretty silly, hopping up and down on one leg with my arm in the air, so I was relieved when he told me to stop. “Are you just about through?” I said, giving him my best scowl, “I’m trying to read the paper.”

Darren’s expression had changed to one of pure astonishment, like he had found a thousand-pound note in his pants pocket. “Well I’ll be,” he said, almost to himself, “it does work.” Then he gave me that phoney voice again: “Now open up your blouse and show me those little titties!”

You can imagine my reaction. You can’t? Well, I just lit right into him for being such a cree… cree… uhm, insensitive person. I really gave him a piece of my mind. What a thing to say! Then I looked down and saw that I had unbuttoned my blouse. I was amazed! I started blubbering, wondering what was going on, but my hands never stopped. I pulled my bra up over my titties so he could see them better. I was mortified — but I just couldn’t stop.

“Well, well, well,” Darren said, in his ordinary voice. “Little miss tight-ass has a nice pair after all. Who would have thunk it. Kinda small, though, aren’t they? Not much there for a man to get his hands on, is there?”

“Wha… how can… why?” I stammered, holding my blouse open. “What’s going on?”

Darren started talking in that voice again. “Well,” he snarled, “answer me! You have little titties, don’t you?”

I don’t know what came over me. I had never thought about the size of my brea– titties before, but now I felt so ashamed. They were so small! I felt myself burning with shame. “Yes,” I said, softly, “I am small.”

“What is small?” Darren persisted.

“My, my…breasts…. are… small.”

“Your what?”

“Titties! My titties are too small.” I felt like crying. I was so inadequate! I just stood there like an idiot, hanging my head.

Oh, thank you, aren’t you sweet. This dress is sort of designed to make the most of what nature gave me. (giggle)

OK, I’m a long way from flat, but Darren prefers his women a lot fuller. We’re going to do something about that, real soon. Here, let me show you what I mean. Where is that one; ah, here we are. Take a look at her, Miss April. That’s the kind of figure Darren prefers. Hmmm, I see you do to, tiger. After my enhancement I’ll be at least as big as her, maybe bigger. I can hardly wait.

You want to hear more? OK. Right at that moment Crystal came into the room. The first thing she saw was her older sister, standing in front of her husband with her blouse undone and her bra pulled up, showing off her titties for all the world. Maybe she saw that my nipples were standing out too.

Crystal froze, shocked. For a moment I thought she was going to scream. “What — what are you doing?” she cried.

I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Come on, Tammy-girl,” Darren said. He was smirking now. “Tell your sister what you’re doing.”

I grew even redder. “I’m, I’m showing Darren my titties,” I said in a tiny voice.

Crystal exploded. “You bitch! What the hell do you think you’re doing! Get out of here right now! How could you do this to me, your own –”

“Crystal, shut up,” Darren said in his new voice. Crystal looked at him, astonishment in her eyes.

“Go back in the kitchen and make dinner quietly. This is between me and your rich-bitch sister.”

Crystal’s eyes grew round as saucers, but she retreated to the kitchen and didn’t come back. “Now listen, babe,” Darren said to me. “Go up to your room and write me a check big enough to get me out of this damned second mortgage. Make sure it will clear. And cover up those little titties, they look pathetic.” He strode away, leaving me standing there half undressed.

Well, I still didn’t know what was going on. I went back to the guest bedroom and I wrote out a big check payable to Darren. It took a sizable chunk out of my savings, believe me. I was scared, and confused, and miserable.

But the best — I mean the worst — thing about it was, I was horny! I mean really horny. I was so hot I could hardly think straight. I sprawled across the bed, pulled down my pants and played with myself until I came, and I mean — wow! Three times. I’m not even sure I remembered to close the door.

“Whoo. Excuse me. This always makes me warm. I’m so… excitable these days.

How are you doing on the beer? Another? Sure thing, coming right up. Hey go ahead, make yourself at home. Here, let me help you with that tie. Mmmmm, you smell nice, Mr. Phelps. Uh-oh, I’m distracting you again, aren’t I honey? (giggle) This uniform is rather…. flattering, isn’t it. Hey, you slip out of that jacket and I’ll fetch you another beer, ‘K?”

There you go. You sure do enjoy a good beer, don’t you. Say, long as were getting comfortable, why don’t you slip your shoes off. No, it’s OK, I’ll get them. There we go. Now have a cookie… that’s a good boy.

You know, you have cute toes, Mr. Phelps. Tell you what, if you don’t mind me sitting here on the coffee table, I’ll give you a little foot massage. Isn’t that nice? Yes, you see what I mean about this dress? Now try not to stare too much.

What happened next? Well, the peculiar thing is for a while we all tried to pretend like nothing had happened. I calmed down, eventually, and we sat down to dinner. Crystal was still furious at me of course, but Darren just sat there smirking.

Then when dinner was over, Darren turned to Crystal and said, “Honey, go do the dishes. Me ‘n’ your stuck-up sister are going to go upstairs and fuck.”

I was shocked all over again. Crystal looked daggers at me, as if I was somehow to blame, but she got up from the table without a word. Before I could say anything, Darren said, “Well, you stupid bitch. You heard me. Why are you still sitting there? Get your uptight ass upstairs and into my bed. Get out of those clothes too.”

Trembling, I got up to go. I was already wet. Darren shouted, “Stop!” and I froze in place.

“Undress here. In the kitchen. I want Crystal to see what a bit of sleaze her sister is.”

I wanted to scream I was so angry. But instead I began removing all my clothes, as quickly as I could. Crystal just looked at me murderously the whole time. When I was completely nude I was shaking like a leaf — and so aroused I was almost dripping. “Not bad,” Darren said coolly, looking me over. “Not bad at all. ‘Cept for the little titties, of course. Crystal, baby, take your sister’s clothes and throw them in the trash. She won’t be needing them any more. Little-tits, run upstairs and get ready to be fucked good.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I was so hot I literally ran up the stairs. I had never been so humiliated in all my life — nor so turned on. When Darren came up I was spread-eagled on my back, doing myself with both hands. I couldn’t seem to stop. He just laughed arrogantly, tearing his clothes off.

So, while his dutiful wife, my sister, did the dishes and threw away my expensive clothes, I screwed Darren like I’d never screwed anyone before. I hated him intensely. I was furious and helpless. The more I thought about how much he disgusted me, the hotter I became. I kept coming and coming, again and again. By the time Darren finally ejaculated, deep inside me, I had completely forgotten I was unprotected and wouldn’t have cared.

Darren threw me out of bed as soon as he was finished. Laughing, he ordered me to go downstairs and send Crystal up for her screwing. I thought I was going to die. But I couldn’t stop myself from stumbling downstairs, nude and wet and sweaty and fucked. I walked into the kitchen, where Crystal was still doing dishes and said, “Crystal, Darren says it’s your turn to go up and get fucked now.”

She walked past me without a word, boiling with anger. Yet just a few minutes later I heard her screaming, “Yes Darren, yes, fuck me hard!” I started to get worked up all over again.

My, it’s… warm in here. Do you mind if I have a little sip of your beer. I’m, uh, getting a little dry. Thanks. What’s that? Why didn’t I leave?

Well, I did! At least, I tried. Darren made me sleep on the sofa that night; no, not that one, I bought him a new one a month ago. The next morning I got up early, got dressed, packed my bags and left. I couldn’t think of anything but getting out of that house. I was fumbling with the door with my two bags when I heard a voice behind me. “Hold it right there,” Darren shouted, using his Voice. I froze so quickly I dropped my luggage.

Darren came down the stairs, wearing a bathrobe. “Just where do you think your going, bitch,” he snarled at me.

“I, I’m going home,” I said with as much determination as I could muster. “I going a long way from you and this entire household.”

He faced me. “Fuck but you have an attitude, little-tits. You aren’t going anywhere yet. We have lots of things to discuss. But first, I think you’d better give me my morning blow job. Make it good.”

I couldn’t help myself. I just dropped to my knees in my designer skirt and gave him head right there in the foyer. I think I was crying, yet at the same time his wang felt delicious. By the time he shot his load down my throat I was as ready to hump as a dog in heat. “Get those clothes off and make us breakfast, bitch,” Darren said, walking away. “Bring it to us upstairs.”

I did what I was told. Ever since then I have done what I am told. Darren made me go without clothing for the next week or so, except for heels when he was in the mood. He took me whenever he felt like it, and every way you can imagine. I tried to resist, really. I never failed to come like a sonic boom.

When my vacation days ran out Darren told me to call my office and tell them I was taking some sick time. I tried to explain it to my boss on the phone, but I was kneeling on the sofa while Darren screwed me from behind so I don’t think I made much sense. They fired me the other day. No, it’s OK, stud, I, I d-didn’t like that job anyway. Not any more.

So, we used the rest of my money to clear up Darren’s financial problems, and of course with the Voice he started selling insurance like nobody’s business. Salesman of the Year in just six months. Not bad, huh?

Most days he makes me stay home and clean house, while he drives off in my new beamer to sell insurance. Crystal goes with him and plays the obedient wifey. We’ve pretty much patched up our differences. Crystal can’t help it any more than I can, and besides, Darren let’s us, I mean makes us, do each other sometimes. He likes to watch.

Sure, the uniform was Darren’s idea. I wear a different one each day, just for variety. He likes to send me out shopping in the most embarrassing outfits he can think of. Like one day he made me do the grocery shopping dressed like a grade-school hussy. If it’s raining I have to wear my sheerest blouse and keep my umbrella rolled up, and if it’s windy, well then I wear my shortest, widest miniskirt. I’m not allowed to wear underwear in public, of course.

Darren loves to think of new ways to make me humiliate myself. Just last week he had me go out in a bikini top and my skimpiest shorts to buy a case of beer, then start tossing them back on the street until I got arrested. By the time the cop got there I was so looped I could barely balance on my high-highs. I had drawn quite a crowd too. I nearly came in the back of the police cruiser.

Oh, do you like my hair? No, I’m not really blonde. But Darren likes it dyed. Nice and brassy. Oh, wouldn’t you like to know. Well, as a matter of fact I don’t have any hair down there, so there. (giggle)

But I do have a tattoo. Wanna see it? Here, let me slip in beside you, handsome. See what I mean about this dress? You like fishnets too, huh? Oh I don’t mind any more if the garters show. This is nothing compared with what I wear when I go walking. You know, around construction sites and schools. Anywhere I can show off. God that’s humiliating. It makes me so hot.

Oh, Mr. Phelps, you have such warm hands. Don’t worry about Darren. He’s probably screwing somebody’s wife on their kitchen table while Crystal watches. She’ll buy a load of your insurance when he’s finished too, even if it is crap.

Oh, come on, sugar, don’t look so offended. I’m a financial wiz, remember? I know useless insurance when I see it. No wonder Darren couldn’t sell that stuff. Course that’s all changed now. Hey, go ahead, put your hand back…oh, yes, that’s better.

Hmmm, you have nice ears. Very kissable. (smack) (giggle). You know, honey, you could make a heckofalot more money selling the Voice program than you’ll ever get from second-rate insurance. Think about it. Look how much Darren paid, and he says the inventor hadn’t begun to refine the technique. Darren’s Voice is much more powerful. You could make a fortune! Not to mention fucking all your customers’ wives…. and their daughters…. you like that idea, hmmmm?

“Oh, yes, the tattoo. It’s down here. It’s not very big so you have to look closely. Right down here. Closer, come on. Here, let me undo this zipper. There, can you see it? Right there beside the rose. Oh, your breath is making my nipples stand up! Can you read what it says, honey? That’s right, “Lick My Little Titties”.

Oh, Mr. Phelps! You are a fast learner, aren’t you. Mmmmm, no, don’t stop. Darren says that’s what the tattoo is for. It worked on the, oh! nice, cop who arrested me for public indecency last time. Course we’ll have to change it after my surgery, won’t we.

Oh, my word, Mr. Phelps, what’s that? Have I gone and made you all uncomfortable? What kind of a maid would I be if I left you in that condition? God, you have a talented mouth.

No, it’s OK, Darren told me to be nice to you while he’s gone. He’s making his first sale of the new Voice program right now. He has Crystal with him as a demonstration; I helped dress her in one of my outfits this morning.

I shined Darren’s shoes for him too, like always. He makes me use my tongue, of course. I have to kneel at his feet. Oh god, it’s utterly degrading. Makes me so horny. Then Darren goes to work without fucking me, and I spend the day ready to screw a baseball bat.

That’s why I’m so glad you’re here Mr. Phelps. Let me make you more comfortable. Darren figured I could convince you to start selling the Voice program if I just showed you what it could do.

I’ll just slide down here, between your legs. No, you finish your beer, I’ll get the zipper. Mmmm, very nice Mr. Phelps. Whoa, what a whopper. I’ve been talking too much anyway. You just relax and think about what you’re going to do with all the money you’re going to make from the Voice, and I’ll just mmmmm (lick, lick) …I’ll just….(smack, slurp)….oh god I want you… mmmmmmmmmmmmm……

(With thanks to Cowgirl, whose stories provided the inspiration.)

Story II
Rachel Resigns
“So Rachel, I understand you’re thinking of leaving us. After only two weeks. I’m disappointed.”

“Well, I’m sorry Mr. Masters, but this job… it just isn’t what I expected.”

“Oh? How so? Is the compensation too little?”

“No, the pay’s great. Really.”

“You don’t like the hours? The work is too demanding? You aren’t getting support?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. The job’s fine, really. It’s just, the…. atmosphere here is, like, not comfortable.

“Hmmm, perhaps you had better explain. But first, close the door. I don’t want us to be disturbed. Here, have a seat. Now my dear, tell me what is so unsettling about the office.”

“Thank you. Well, all right, if you must know. It’s little things, mostly. The people here are like… just odd.”

“Are they unfriendly?”

“No, not at all. They’re all friendly. Real friendly. Everybody treats me like a dear childhood friend, and I’ve only been here for two weeks. They keep doing things for me. Buying me lunch, taking me out for drinks, taking me shopping. It’s almost embarrassing.”

“Surely you can’t be thinking of quitting because the staff are too friendly!”

“Well, that’s just the thing. Sometimes they seem more than friendly, like, almost… I don’t know. There’s so much touching and hugging all the time, I wonder if they’re… you know. It seems like every time I sit down somebody has their hand on my thigh.”

“Rachel, are you telling me that a few hugs are enough to make you quit your job?”

“No, no, but there’s more than that. Look, to start with, you have what, 12, 15 people working for you, right. And they’re all women. Why aren’t there any men?

“Well, as a matter of fact, that’s deliberate on my part. It turns out that women prefer this line of work. Men tend to be too… fidgety. They don’t have the patience for the long hours in front of a computer. I find I get better performance from a female staff.”

“Is that legal?”

“Probably not. But somebody would have to complain for the authorities to make me do something about it. So far, nobody has.”

“Well, I just might. I don’t think I believe your smug explanation at all. Besides, I’ve noticed that all the women in your office are single, childless, and under the age of 30. And anybody can see they’re all lookers. Every single one of them. It’s like, way sexist.”

“Oh, does someone feel threatened? Uncomfortable with competition in the beauty department? Well, you can relax, my dear. Surely you must know you’re the best-looking woman in the entire office, hands down. Even with that cute frown on your face.”

“Mr. Masters! That is quite enough of that! I didn’t come in here so you could leer. Comments on my appearance are unwelcome and, like, inappropriate.”

“Yes, of course, of course. I didn’t mean to upset you. By the way, that’s a lovely little dress.”

“Oh… well, thank you. I like it. A couple of the girls took me out shopping yesterday, and… Wait a minute! This has nothing to do with anything! I’m trying to explain to you why I’m quitting.”

“Indeed. So far, it seems the staff are too attractive and too friendly. Sounds like grounds for a lawsuit to me.”

“Very funny. Look, the whole office just creeps me out, OK. Like, all those women are obsessed with their appearance. I swear they spend half their time primping and the other half shopping. They’re like a bunch of boy-crazy teenagers. Fashion, fitness and fella– uh, fellas is all they ever talk about.”

“Well, be reasonable, Rachel. Young women do tend to be concerned about those things. You yourself commented that the staff is predominantly young, single women.”

“Yeah but this goes like, way beyond normal. Come on, you must have noticed how everybody dresses around here. The whole place is like a fashion show run by a voyeur. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody in pants. It’s all tight sweaters and micro-minis and…”

“Speaking of which, that little thing you have on would certainly qualify as a mini, wouldn’t it? I’m enjoying a great view of your lovely thighs, my dear.”

“Well, yes… but… this is different. I just bought this yesterday, and, like I wouldn’t dress like this every day. I mean, it’s just for… and I shouldn’t have crossed my legs like that. Look, can we please get back on topic?”

“Sorry. I admit I find your legs a very pleasant distraction.”

“Oh, thank you. That’s sweet — no, wait. That’s wrong. Forget about my legs! We were talking about this office. You have about a dozen young women working here, all of them dressed like they’re on their way to a fetish club. And all they seem to care about is their work.”

“Rachel, you just said all they care about is clothes and men.”

“Well, besides that. They’re so devoted to their jobs it’s like, creepy. Even the lowest clerks act like their in love with the company. They gush about it around the water cooler. They act like it’s some sort of great honour to work here.”

“Young lady, there is no shame in being happy with your job. Dedication is a virtue I value highly. We often have strict deadlines in this line of work.”

“Yes, sure, I know, but again, this office is just weird. They’re almost fanatical. They treat it like some higher calling. The other day, in the pub after work, I asked a bunch of them if they would jump to another job if the pay were better. Not one of them said yes. They seemed insulted by the suggestion!”

“As I would be. I take good care of my employees and I see nothing wrong in the fact that they appreciate it. That’s why I am so disappointed that you have chosen to leave us.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Masters but this place is just too strange. The level of commitment of these women is — look, I popped in on the weekend, just to tidy up a few things. Can you believe almost half the staff was here? They were all bopping around, working on their projects and stuff, like it was Tuesday afternoon instead of Saturday morning. Everybody was as happy as can be. They were all dressed in the same wild, sexy stuff they wear during the week. Or maybe even less. I mean –”

“Rachel, really. You accuse my staff of excess dedication, as if there could be such a thing. Yet weren’t you coming to work on Saturday too?”

“Uh, well, yes, I, I suppose so. But, but I was just there for a few hours, you know to finish off things. I wasn’t like humming while I worked. And there’s another thing.”

“What now? The staff are too polite as well?”

“Go ahead and joke while you can. I was talking to Angelica, that luscious blonde who does your bookkeeping. You know her, right, she’s always decked out in spandex and those platform boots with the super-high heels?”

“Like you’re wearing.”

“Well, uh, yes, now that you mention it they are sort of similar. But the thing is, Angelica wears boots like this every day! These are just for today… well, this week; I just bought — look, will you quit trying to change the subject!

I happen to know that Angelica is fucking the boots. Omygosh, what did I say! I meant, fudging; fudging the books. She as much as told me so. She says she keeps two sets of records, one for you, one for the tax man. And the weird thing is, she didn’t seem the least bothered by it. I think she was proud of what a good job she was doing fondling my boobs — I mean, fucking the books, er, whatever. Don’t tell me this is normal!”

“No, it certainly isn’t. She shouldn’t be talking like that at all. I’ll have to tighten up security. Excuse me while I make a note.”

“Mr. Masters! I am not here to help you with your tax evasion! Look, just because all the other women here worship you like a sultan doesn’t mean I have to. Oh, that’s the thing that really gives me the willies. It’s like every girl in the office is in love with you! Everything they do is for you. They dress to make you notice, they work so hard to make money for you, they hang on every word you say. They seem to base their entire perception of happiness on your approval.

“And that’s not all. Their devotion goes beyond eager servitude to your company. They all want to serve you. Like sex slaves. To give you their bodies for your satisfaction. It comes up in conversation. Oh, nobody says anything outright to the new girl, but I’m not dumb. I see the dreamy looks and the moistened lips. These girls get turned on every time you walk by! And don’t think I haven’t noticed the lovestruck lovelies disappearing into your office, or the stupid, satiated smiles on their faces when they come out. Why, some of the girls even call you “Master.”

“Masters is my name.”

“I said Master. Without the ‘s’. As if they were silly, sexy slaves in your horny harem. They seemed to enjoy saying the word. I’m sorry, Master –er, Mr. Master, but I’ve had enough of this. I’m out of here.”

“Now hold on just a minute, my lovely. Don’t go anywhere just yet. You are very perceptive about how my company operates. I think you deserve an explanation. You’re right, my girls are very dedicated.

That’s because they’re hypnotized.”

“What? Hypnotized?”

“That’s right. Hypnotized. All of them. Well, technically it’s subconscious suggestions coupled with pleasure rewards, but it amounts to the same thing. I hypnotize my staff.”

“Why? So you can make them crawl around on all fours and bark like a dog?”

“Ho ho. Hardly. No, I did it originally just to improve productivity. You see my dear, it’s hard to get good help these days, and even harder to keep it. Especially in a computer-based industry. There’s so much competition. So much staff turn-over. Employees are always running off to a better job, or getting married and moving away, or just quitting for no good reason, like you. So I started thinking about better ways to motivate, to instil a little dedication in my staff. I came up with hypnotism.”

“But I thought –”

“Yes, you’re right, hypnotism can only make people do what they want to do. I got lucky. I stumbled on a way to couple the hypnotic suggestions with visual and audio stimuli that promote pleasure in the brain. It’s wonderfully effective. Very quickly the mind starts to equate the suggestions with happiness.

“So you see, the girls in my office don’t just think pleasing me makes them happy, it really does make them happy. Yet the staff are always doing just what they want to do, even when they’re lying on my desk getting their lights fucked out.”

“Master! This is heinous! How did you…”

“Oh, it’s all done with subliminal images on the computers, my dear. The ones you have been using since you started. I always give my new girls lots of computer time.”

“How, how long…?”

“Depends on the individual. You seem a little more stubborn than most. But nobody has held out past about two weeks.”

“Two weeks! But, but, I don’t feel any different.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you try thinking about me for a moment. Think about making me happy.”

“Master this is ridiculous. I don’t see how… oh, oh my!”

“You were saying?”

“Oh! Oh my gosh, this feels so… so… makes me feel all warm ‘n’ tingly.”

“Nice, isn’t it? Getting stronger too, I bet.”

“ohgodohgodohgod that is just… mmmmmm, so….yummy!”

“It’s the feedback, you see. The more you think about pleasing me, the better you feel, and that makes you want to please me even more.”

“Mmmmmm, Masterrrrrr!”

“Why don’t you give yourself a little relief. I expect you’re dying to play with yourself right now.”

“No, Master, I couldn’t! Not here, not right in front of… ….aaaahhhh.”

“Go ahead. By this time you’re probably not wearing any panties, so that’ll make it easier.”

“N-no p-panties? What, why aren’t I… oh shit, this skirt is so short and I’m not wearing…. ah fuck it that feels niiiice.”

“Enjoy yourself, my dear. By the way, you aren’t thinking of quitting now, are you?”

“Wha? Qu-quitting? Oh Master I couldn’t! I want this job! I need it! Please, darling, don’t make me go away…. mmmmmm this feels goody goody gooood!”

“I don’t know, you were pretty rude a few minutes ago. Sounded to me like you didn’t want the job.”

“Please! I’m sorry, Master! I want my job. I want it! I want to please you. I’ll be good, Master, I promisssssse. I’ll do anything you say, anything! Just please please please let me keep my job!”

“Hmmm, I’ll tell you what. If you wiggle that fantastic bod of yours over here and give me a really special blow job, I might just re-consider letting you stay on.”

Oh, thank you Master! Thank you! Please, let me blow you. God I’m so horny, I’ll suck you like no one ever has before. Gimme gimme!”

“Ahem. Rachel, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I — I am? Forgetting? Oh, yes. I, I should be… down here, on the floor… like this… yes, that feels so much better.”

“And?”

“Arf! Woof! Woof! Bark!”

“That’s a good girl. Now sit up and beg, and I’ll give you a nice bone….”

Story III
Side (and Front) Effects
“Ah, I love days like this. You can almost smell the spring flowers blooming. Too nice a day to work, really.”

“Well, enough lolligagging. I really ought to read all this literature about that new drug I’m testing. Good grief, this file is an inch thick. Well, nobody here, I can put my feet up.” [Creeeak]

“Let’s see, ‘N-HancDD produces general metabolic stimulation based on induced retranscription of key operons…blah blah blah…’ [yawn] ‘…may promote adjustment of hormonal balance in favour of… blah blah blah…’ [yawn]. Man, this is dull.”

“Ahhh, such a warm spring breeze. Maybe I’ll just rest my eyes for a mo…. [Snore!] [Knock] [Snore] [Knock, knock!] [Snore] [Knock, click, creak] “Uh, Dr. Hardrod?”

[Snore]

“Dr. Hardrod!”

[Snort] “Huh! Wha..what! [Thump] Ouch! Oh, Misty! How many times have I told you not to break in on me without knocking?”

“Doctor, you were sound asleep.”

“Asleep! Of course not! I was just resting my eyes. I was… uh, thinking.”

“Sure, whatever. Look, I’m sorry to disturb you but there’s someone waiting in –”

“Do you know what I was thinking, Misty? I was thinking, maybe our working relationship would run a little smoother if we got to know each other better. If you like, we could step out after work, maybe have dinner…”

“Forget it, Doctor. I have to study.”

“Well, I would be glad to help you with that, if you’d like. I could lend a hand with your course work, or give you a few tips on hospital practice. How about that?”

“Doctor, once and for all, I am not interested in your thinly disguised passes. I’m only working here at all because I badly need the money, OK? Furthermore, when I graduate from medical school, I will become a real doctor, not some cut-rate shill who peddles patent medicines for fly-by-night drug companies.”

“Misty, I’m offended. Volparnuit Pharmaceuticals is one of the most respected pharmaceutical research companies anywhere in the Caribbean. They have –”

“Doctor, could we discuss medical ethics later? You have a patient!”

“A patient? Why didn’t you say so?”

“I’ve been trying! Mrs. Goodenrich is here, right now. She seems upset. She insists on seeing you right away.”

“That’s odd. Her appointment isn’t until next –”

“Doctor! I absolutely must insist on speaking to you right now!”

“Mrs. Goodenrich, please, if you’ll just wait a mo–”

“Don’t try to put me off again, nurse flatchest, I will see the doctor — Now!”

“He’ll be with you in–”

“It’s OK, Misty. I’ll take it from here.”

“Very well, Doctor.” [Slam!]

“Well, Mrs. Goodenrich, how nice to see you. By Elvis’s ghost, you’re looking absolutely radiant! I hope –”

“Doctor, what the hell is in those pills you gave me?”

“Pills? Oh, yes, you mean the N-HancDD. I did tell you they were experimental, didn’t I? Clinical tests have proven very promising for chronic fatigue. So, has your energy level improved?”

“Improved? It’s gone through the roof! It’s boundless. I feel like doing handstands. I’ve never felt so energized; I just go-go- go all day long. I hardly even need to sleep; I can stay up practically all night fu– er, doing things.”

“Well, this is excellent, isn’t it. You do look positively splendid this morning, too. So… what’s the problem?”

“The problem, you lecherous quack, is that those stupid pills have done a lot more than just give me a permanent coffee buzz. Why didn’t you warn me about the side effects?”

“Side effects? Why, there shouldn’t be any. N-HancDD is completely safe. I have it on good authority from the manufacturer that there are virtually no deleterious side effects from this medication. That reminds me. Will you excuse me for just one moment?”

[Click. Whir] [Lowered voice] “Note to self: Send inquiry to Chester Biggs, Volparnuit Pharmaceuticals, urgent, concerning side effects of N-HancDD.” [Click]

“Right, well then. What sort of side effects are you experiencing?”

“Doctor, are you blind as well as incompetent? Don’t you notice anything different about me?”

“Well, as I said, you appear to be in absolutely vibrant good health. Your colour is excellent, your eyes are bright — say, did you get your hair done since I saw you last?

“No. It did itself.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either! Hair isn’t supposed to go from straight and short to long and lustrous without some sort of human intervention. It’s those damned pills of yours! Look, it even has red highlights now. But I can live with that. Self-perming hair is nothing compared with the other side-effects. Look at how my figure has changed.”

“Hmmm. You do seem quite a bit… fuller.”

“Fuller! You call this fuller? Wait, let me take this jacket off.” [Zip. Rustle, rustle]. Is this what you call “fuller?”

[Gulp] “Aaaah! Ah, blub, blub, blu… ahem. Uhm. Well. Yes, I see. Uhm, there d-does seem to b-be some… uh, engorgement of the breasts. Uh, yes, quite definitely.”

“Some engorgement? Fuller? What is this, an understatement contest? Doctor, I’m absolutely gigantic! I look like I swallowed two beachballs. My breasts are the size of watermelons. I mean, for the lovagod get a look at these tits!”

“I’m looking, I’m looking… I mean, yes, I see your points… I mean your point, your situation. How do you know the N-HancDD is responsible? When exactly did this… enlargement begin?”

“The first day I was on the pills. I took my first dose on Friday. On Saturday morning I couldn’t fit into any of my bras. I bought a new bra on Saturday afternoon. On Monday morning it didn’t fit either. I bought a new one on Monday. That didn’t last until Wednesday. By the next Friday I gave up completely. By that time I had exhausted all the regular sizes anyway, and could only find help at a few specialty shops.”

“You — you have been carrying those big, beautiful, boobies — er, that is, those seriously swollen breasts for most of a week with no brassiere?”

“Yes! And they continued to grow the entire time. Once I stopped wearing a bra though, I discovered I didn’t need one! They’re amazingly firm in spite of their size. You see how they jut out from my chest without any sag at all? Doctor?”

“What? Oh, oh yes. They are… magnificent. But surely at that… magnitude you must be experiencing some discomfort?”

“None! None at all! Those damned pills of yours are like… anti- gravity or something. Look, I’ll show you. Let me get this shirt off.”

“No! Wait! Mrs. Goodenrich, I don’t think that will be nec–”

[Stretch, pull, struggle, rip.]

“There! You see what I’m talking about?”

“John Paul George and Ringo! They’re… spectacular!”

“From your point of view, maybe; but you see how round they are, how perfect and smooth? Doctor?”

“Doctor!”

“Ahh! Yes, yes, I, I see. They’re really quite… captivating, aren’t they.”

“That’s not all. Those pills must have built up my muscle structure as well. Watch what happens when I shake my shoulders.”

[Boing! boing! bounce, bounce, jiggle, wiggle, jiggle]

“Ohmygod.”

“Doctor, will you please pick your jaw up off the floor. You are supposed to be a physician, remember! This is a medical condition!”

“OK, OK, you’re right. Let’s just keep cool about this. We’ll finish the history first. Uh, perhaps I should measure…”

“Don’t bother. My husband has measured me at least once a day since this all started.”

“And?”

“You figure it out. Before your bumbling incompetence ruined my entire life I had a nicely proportioned 33-inch bust. According to my husband’s calculations, I have been gaining something under an inch per day since I started taking your pills.”

“But, but that’s impossible! You started on the N-HancDD, what, almost 12 days ago? That would make you… Wow.”

“Exactly. Give or take an inch or two.”

“I, I don’t believe this. Nobody can get that big that fast.”

“The evidence is staring you in the face, you low-life drug pusher. That’s not all the changes, either. You must have noticed how my nipples have expanded. Now I have ripe strawberries on top of my watermelons.”

[Whisper] “What a fruit salad!”

“What was that?”

“Oh, uh, nothing, nothing. Have you noticed any change in sensitivity, in your nipples for instance?”

“I can hardly believe it. They’re incredibly responsive. Look what happens if I just give them a little tweak.”

“No! I mean, no that won’t be necessary. I get the idea. Please go on. What else have you experienced?

“I’ve been eating like a horse but I’ve lost three inches around the waist. My hips have flared out while dropping padding I’ve been trying to shed for years. My rump has rounded and tightened up like I did a year’s worth of advanced aerobics in two weeks. My legs –”

“…are utterly fabulous! Oh, I’m sorry. That just came out. Uh, it’s just I couldn’t help noticing; you know… with that skirt…”

“Yes, I know it’s awfully short, Doctor. It belongs to my daughter. I’ve been changing shape so fast that none of my clothes fit. Molly’s lycra minis are the only thing that stretch around my hips from one day to the next.”

“I see.”

“Well, she doesn’t need them while she’s away at school. She’s too young to be wearing her skirts so short anyway.”

“Yes, but surely your buttocks themselves could not have changed shape so quickly. They’re mostly muscle, after all, and –”

“Not convinced? Here, I’ll bend over for you. Look, have you ever seen an ass like that?

[Gasp!] [Whisper] “Peter Paul and Mary me! That has got to be one of the greatest asses in the history of receding females! Sgt. Pepper and Abbey Road, it’s… it’s perfect. It’s like — [Louder]. Yes, well, very impressive. Very impressive indeed. Stand up straight now. Please. I couldn’t help noticing your legs look so satiny smooth. What is that material, some kind of sheer nylon?”

“Doctor, I’m not wearing any nylons.”

“I, I see. And that little thong, uh, you borrowed that from your daughter too?”

“No, I would never let her wear such a thing. I bought it myself when I got tired of panties that didn’t fit two days after I bought them.”

“Oh. But… hang on a minute. Something doesn’t add up here. Mrs. Goodenrich, you’re far too young to have a daughter old enough that you could borrow her clothes. What are you, 21, 22?”

“Doctor, I’m 38!”

“Oh dear; I see. Well, all right, I concede that there have been some physical changes. They’re mostly beneficial though, right? I mean, your face could be in cosmetics commercials, without the cosmetics. You could be –”

“Doctor, these last two weeks have been chaos! These physical changes have been confusing enough, but those pills — they have been playing havoc with my moods.”

“Oh, oh my. Have you been feeling depressed? Irritable?”

“Completely the opposite. Those N-HancDD tablets are like high- test happy pills. They make me feel light-headed and silly, as giddy as a schoolgirl. I can’t concentrate on anything. And my, uhm, sexual appetite has increased… a lot.”

“How much a lot?”

“A whole lot.”

“Oh, I see. Has this been a problem? With your husband, I mean.”

“Not at first. My husband was rather pleasantly surprised the first couple of nights — we hadn’t been having sex much any more. He was also gratified that he could bring me to orgasm so quickly. He says my… that is, I’ve become, well, wonderfully snug and responsive.”

“But I swear, as my chest measurements went up, so did my sexual desire. Pretty soon I was riding my poor George to exhaustion every night, then doing it again the next morning. By the end of the first week even that wasn’t enough. I was frigging myself three or four times per day as well.”

“It was worse when I went out in public. I have always had men looking at me; any attractive woman gets used to that, but not like this. It’s like my boobs were magnetic. Everywhere I went men always had their eyes rivetted to my tits — just like yours are, Doctor.”

“What? Oh, was I staring? Sorry.”

“Anyway, it didn’t help that I was always straining my clothing to the limit so you could see the exact outline of my expanding boobies. Of course, I couldn’t help going out in public all the time because I constantly had to go shopping for new clothes!”

“Then, when I stopped wearing bras, it became almost unbearable. Every time I stepped out on the street I had every man I met drooling and bumping into lampposts. And that turned me on so much I could hardly remember where I was going.”

“I did a lot of hand loving in public washrooms and change rooms of clothing boutiques. I got into the habit of wearing my daughter’s miniskirts, even when they became too small for me, because they allowed easy access to my snatch. Of course that just made things worse because my legs were becoming pretty damn distracting too.”

“Are they ever — that is, yes, I understand. Please go on.”

“Well, you can’t wear a skirt like this one without the right heels too. Can you? It made sense at the time. Since I started on those pills I can’t even think straight, especially when I’m turned on. But my new high heels made me wiggle when I walked, which in turn made my giant, braless boobies bounce, so the nipples rubbed against the blouse and got all hard and pointy.”

“Uh, yes, I see how that would be… distracting.”

“Doctor, if I had attracted attention before, now I was irresistible! Grown men became staring, stuttering fools when they talked to me. Guys on the street turned around to gawk helplessly, even when they were with another woman. I actually gave men erections just by giving them a good look at my glorious globes. I may have been personally responsible for several fender-benders in my neighbourhood.”

“Uh, excuse me, I think I’ll just move over here, behind the desk. Don’t you find it, uh, warm in here?”

“Not with the window open. See how my nipples are stiffening? [Giggle] My strawberries are ripening!”

“Oh god. Please, Mrs. Goodenrich, get back to your story. Did all this… male attention in public affect you?”

Affect me! It drove me wild. I was simmering like an overheated teakettle all day long. As my tits kept growing, the sexual heat just kept rising and rising. I became insatiable. George couldn’t begin to satisfy me. I got into the habit of driving with one hand so I could keep the other one busy between my legs. That’s when I had… the accident.

“Accident?”

“It was bound to happen. I was driving to my country club for a game of tennis last Saturday. I had a new tennis dress on, but it was already way too small on top, even with all the buttons in the throat undone, and my chest pulled the hem up so high it barely covered essentials. I had –”

“You’re still playing tennis? In your condition? Haven’t all these changes thrown off your game?”

“They’ve thrown off my life! My tennis game is atrocious! I can’t concentrate on the play or even remember the score. I get the giggles every time I serve, and my balance is way off because of all the weight up front. Of course I can’t find a sportsbra that fits, so my mega-mammaries bounce around with every shot, like this–”

“No! Please, don’t do that again.”

“The funny thing is, I’ve risen five ranks in the club standings since I started taking the pills! Male opponents just can’t seem to keep their eyes on the ball. Even the women, now that I think about it….”

“But that’s neither here nor there. The day of the accident I was driving to my tennis club while pleasuring myself with one hand. Jolly good thing my car has an automatic transmission. Another car was pulling out just as I was making a turn, and we struck. I saw the other driver getting out of his sportscar, and boy did he look steamed. So I licked off my fingers and pulled up my panties and climbed out to look at the damage.”

“I was up around 39 or 40 inches by this time, and I’m afraid my straining little tennis dress didn’t cover very much. I decided to try sweet-talking my way out of the situation. I tried to sound contrite. I batted my long eyelashes at him. (Have you noticed how big and deep blue my eyes are now?) I pretended not to notice that he couldn’t take his eyes off my tits.”

“Well, did his mood change in a hurry! All of a sudden he becomes real friendly and starts apologizing and making like it was nothing, even though there was a big dent in his bumper. I had noticed a big outward dent in his pants too.”

“I hadn’t come in a couple of hours so I guess I was pretty horny right then. The way the poor fellow was staring at me was just making me so hot. Without thinking about it, I whispered something about making everything all right. Then I just sauntered up to him, slipped my arms around his shoulders, rubbed my captivating chest against his, and gave him a kiss he won’t forget for a long while.”

“I don’t know what came over me. I just wanted his cock so bad. While he was distracted by my tongue action I slipped my hands down and opened his pants. He was too surprised and turned on to pull away. Before he could react I had his pecker out. Of course he was hard for me. Without saying a word I bent over and slipped my thick red lips around his shaft.”

“I know how to give pretty good head, if I do say so myself. I had been practising regularly with my husband. So there I was, a happily married woman, with my mouth around the rigid cock of some stranger I had just met, sucking him off like there was no tomorrow. We were behind my car, but still right on a public street. I don’t even know if anybody saw us.”

“Did you, did you enjoy it?”

“Oh god, it was divine. Since I started on those stupid pills I can’t get enough cock. He came pretty quickly. I pulled out at the last moment and let him come all over my cleavage. He liked that a lot. Afterward I was still horny so I got him hard again and we fucked in the backseat of his car. When I finally let him go he promised not to report our accident. He even agreed to pay for the repairs to my car.”

“Doctor! Get your hands out of your pockets!”

“Oh, uh, I beg your pardon. I was just, uhm, looking for my stethoscope. Please, finish your story.”

“I never did get to play tennis that day. I drove the car to a bodyshop to get the fender fixed. All the guys in the shop were more interested in my body than the car’s. I can still remember how they all looked at me, slack-jawed and amazed, when I stepped out of the car in my immaculate tennis whites, my tits bursting out the top and my legs completely uncovered on the bottom. The mechanic who worked on my car looked like he had a crowbar down his coveralls.”

“I don’t remember what happened exactly. I sure wasn’t pure white when I left. I had grease and palmprints all over. The cab driver kept looking up my dress.”

“Goodness it’s hot in here. Mrs. Goodenrich, I had no idea those pills would affect you this way. What about your job? You’re an investment analyst or some such, right?”

“I was. I got fired this week.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I got a terrific separation package.”

“But, why did they fire you? Surely not just because of your tempting, titanic titties –oops, I mean, your breast enlargement problem.”

“No, but that was part of it. I told you how these pills make me addled. By Monday, just the third day on the pills, I was already having trouble concentrating on my work. I just couldn’t take it seriously. Every day that week I came to work with bigger boobs and a shorter attention span. By Friday I was mostly just doodling and combing my hair.” [Giggle]

“And distracting the rest of the office. I soon learned that a big-busted woman who’s bursting out of her clothes can have a very stimulating effect on the men around her. Everybody was always finding excuses to drop by my office. I got invited out for drinks several times every day. A fight broke out once over who got to help me finish a report. By the end of the week I had so many amorous visitors I wouldn’t have got anything done even if I had bothered to try.”

“Unfortunately, nobody else was getting anything done either. On Friday the boss hauled me into his office and read the riot act. It was the strangest conversation. I remember I was wearing a new, purple sweater. It was bulky when I bought it, but since my bust- size was greater than my age at that point it sure wasn’t bulky any more. It was more like a second skin. In fact, it had pulled up so far it left my navel exposed. Mr. Simpson chewed me out sternly enough, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off my tits. He kept talking to them instead of me.

I’m pretty sure he was hard the entire time. He told me I would be out of a job if I didn’t shape up. I suppose he meant figuratively.”

“Well, that was hardly likely as long as I was popping those demonic drugs of yours. On Monday I came into work at least two inches larger in the bust, wearing no brassiere and one of my daughter’s miniskirts with high heels. My big, ultra-sensitive nipples were outlined exactly by my straining T-shirt.

“I tried to do my job, a little bit anyway, but I just didn’t care. Beside, I couldn’t keep my mind off sex long enough to do any real work. Especially when every male in the office was practically drooling over me. Every time I stepped out of my cubicle I was surrounded by horny, bug-eyed suitors. They were all so transfixed by my fantastic body they could barely make conversation. You could almost smell the testosterone in the air.”

“Somehow I managed to get through Monday, though I basically brought the whole office to a standstill. I spent a lot of time in the ladies’ room, relieving myself. By Tuesday I couldn’t stand the heat any more. There was a meeting in the conference room, and when I walked in I realized too late that I was the only woman there. My tits were threatening to split open my straining gold blouse. My ass wiggled delectably every time I took a step. Every man in the room was staring helplessly.”

“Somehow the meeting turned into an orgy. The fellas helped me tear my clothes off, which didn’t take long, and then I took them one and two at a time on the conference room table. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.”

“We were just getting going, I had only satisfied three or four guys, when Mr. Simpson walked in! We had forgotten to lock the door. He hauled me into his office and fired me on the spot.”

“That didn’t change the fact that he had a hard-on threatening to tear his pants. I decided to press my advantage and finesse a good separation package. First I “negotiated” him out of his pants. Then I knelt down and gave him a long, excruciating breast fuck between my huge hooters. Just when he was ready to come I started talking about severance pay. He was in no position to bargain. I simply refused to let him come until he agreed to my ridiculous terms. When he finally gasped, “Yes, anything!” he exploded like a geyser all over my chest. I gave him a few minutes to catch his breath. Then I got him hard again and we spent the next hour screwing on top of his desk.”

“Oh god it’s hot in here. I’m covered with sweat. Where’s my handkerchief. Whew. What, what are you doing now? Are you still unemployed?”

“Oh, I got another job right away. The first one I applied for, in fact. I just walked into another brokerage house, asked to talk to a manager, and told them I was available. I don’t know if he even looked at my resume. I do filing and stuff now.”

“How does your husband feel about, about all this?”

“My husband left me. He says he can’t keep up with my unquenchable thirst for sex. Well, that, and he caught me one afternoon riding the pool cleaner on the livingroom rug.”

“Ohmygod. Did you try to explain the situation?”

“I tried, but it was really hard with the gardener’s cock in my mouth.”

“All right, all right. That, that’s enough. Please, I get the idea. It looks like the N-HancDD has had some unexpected side effects –”

“Doctor, get a grip, will you! I didn’t come here so you could blather about unintended side effects. What in the name of heaven is in those cursed pills? Look at me! I’ve turned into a walking wet dream. In just two weeks I’ve changed from a normal, healthy woman into a traffic-stopping, giant-chested lovedoll who can’t think of anything but sex sex sex!”

“But, but, wait a minute. If you knew the N-HancDD was doing this to you, why did you keep taking the pills?”

“I, I don’t know why. After the first few days I just didn’t want to stop. Maybe I’m addicted. I don’t know. I was aware that the pills were somehow related to my breast growth, but in less than a week my mind got so fuzzy I never really thought about the connection. By the second week I was too pre-occupied with sex and more sex to worry about a few little pills.

“Besides, every time I took some of the N-HancDD, I started to feel really good all over. High-test happy pills, right? The feeling started to fade by the next day, and the only way to feel good again was to take the next pill.”

“This is alarming. I promise I had no idea this sort of thing was possible. All right, let’s do something about it. We’ll begin an intense investigation aimed at limiting the effects of N-HancDD and reversing them as far as possible. First thing, we have to get you off those pills.”

“What!”

“The pills, the N-HancDD. It’s obviously causing enormous side effects. We’ll get rid of the rest, and then move on to–”

“No, doctor, you don’t understand. I didn’t come here for help getting off the pills. I came here to get some more!”

“What?”

“Those marvellous little pills make me feel better than I ever have in my life. You can’t cut me off now. Look, I’m almost out! Please, doctor, I need some more!”

“What, are you mad? Those pills have made you… well, like you are now.”

“Yes, Doctor, I know. Don’t you love it? Don’t I look good? Take a good, long look at these melons, honey. Here, I’ll hold them up for you. Don’t you want to just squeeze them, and fondle them, and run your tongue all around the nipples, like this… [Slurp, lap, lap] [Gulp] “Please, Mrs. Goodenrich, stay back…”

“How about it doc? Wouldn’t you just love to fuck a stunningly beautiful woman with a rack like this? I’ll do just about anything for some more of those pills, baby.”

“No, please, I c-can’t. They’re dangerous–”

“Oh, forget dangerous, baby. You want me. You know you can’t resist me. Nobody can. I’m all your greatest fantasies come true. Here, put your hands on me.”

“Oh god….”

[Ziiiiip] “Oh look darling, you’re hard already. You really do like my titties don’t you, Dr. Hardrod. That’s right, get lost in them. I bet you’re wondering what it would be like it I knelt down and put your cock between my ripe watermelons… like this….”

“Ohgodohgodohgod.”

“Can’t I have just a few more pills, pretty please? Hmmmm?”

“Ah! Ah, ah, ah all right! Yes! Yes, yes, as many as you want. [Pant, pant] But wait, I just had an idea. No, don’t stop, please don’t stop, let me just reach the intercom.”

[Buzz] “Yes, Doctor?”

“Misty, are you still looking to make some extra money? [Lowered voice] Yes, baby, like that, just like thaaaat.”

“Would I be working for you if I wasn’t desperate? What’s all that noise?”

“N-never mind about the noise. Listen, how would you like to help test a great new… uhm, herbal supplement. It’s a marvellous energy booster. [Lowered voice] Unh! Where did you learn to suck like that?”

“Well, maybe. Does it really work?”

“Absolutely! In less than two weeks you’ll feel like a whole new woman!”заказать продвижение сайта

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