Codes: MC, MF, MFF, NC, MDom, WS, Rim, Oral, Anal, CumEating
[This story is fantasy and written for the pleasure of reading. It involves dangerous, illegal, and unethical behavior which should never ever be performed by anyone, ever, anywhere. If nonconsensual sex via a drug induced state would bother or offend you, then please leave this page at once.]
John was laying on top of Cynthia, thrusting away, pumping his cock into her as hard as he could. Cynthia was just laying there, as she usually did, and staring at the ceiling. As John felt his climax approach, he grabbed onto her shoulders and pushed himself as far into her as he could, grunting and growling with the sudden release and orgasm. Cynthia waited patiently for him to finish and climb off of her, and then rolled out of bed, walked to the bathroom, and sat on the toilet to let all of his sperm drip out of her pussy, into the toilet bowl.
"How was that, babe?" John asked.
"What? Oh, that." Cynthia began to answer. "Listen, don't expect me to get all worked up over your little squirt and groan. I'll use my vibrator when I get back to bed and get myself off. I guess you can watch me, but don't get too worked up. You've had your fuck for the week." John felt deflated. Cynthia hadn't gone down on him in over a year and was constantly criticizing his 'meager performance'. It's not that he wasn't well endowed. He was easily seven inches long and quite girthy. Her complaint was that she wanted a "tiger in bed!" and no matter how hard he fucked her, or what positions he tried, or how he tried to 'roar' with his orgasm, she was always disappointed. In fact, if he hadn't gotten upset a few months ago and threatened to file for divorce, then he wouldn't even have been getting these weekly pity fucks.
John had more time to ruminate bitterly over his situation while his wife lay next to him and ran the large vibrator over her clit. The hum was loud and her breathing quickly became ragged. He knew she was close, and it was turning him on ... but as much as he wanted to reach over and play with her large, soft tits or get closer and maybe finger fuck her while she buzzed her clit into a full-on cum, experience told him not to. She'd just scream at him for 'getting in the way' and interrupting her climax, then he'd end up on the couch for the night.
'This is a pretty shitty way to live.' John thought to himself. Almost anything would be worth getting out of this. He'd contemplated having an affair or seeking out some college coed that needed a little help with her rent at the end of each month. The idea intrigued him, and sometimes he'd fantasize about the soft wet mouth of some secret lover, slowly working on his swollen cock head, while he jacked off. But who was he kidding? He didn't know how to lie and keep secrets. Besides feeling like a shitheel, Cynthia would find out eventually, and that would be that. Not just divorced, but he was sure she'd find a way to humiliate him in front of all of their friends and his family. No, secret affairs were fun to masturbate to, but too risky.
John never thought he'd be doing this, but he clicked on the web link and began to fill out the order form. This entire operation looked sketchy. From the circa 1992 web site complete with blinking marquee text to the payment system based on some European bank wire transfer, everything screamed "Scam!" But what the hell? He'd be out $100 and could just chalk this up to a whole string of bad decisions he'd made, including marrying Cynthia. But their pitch was just too good! "Cum like a tiger! Show her the BEAST in the BEDROOM!" If these pills worked, maybe he could finally shake Cynthia up and get some more TLC for his dick, again.
Now he just had to wait the six to eight weeks for delivery. Damn.
John was both excited and apprehensive when he saw the box on the counter. What if Cynthia opened it up? What if she finds the pills after-the-fact? John wasn't sure what would be worse, having her laugh and demean him for trying some crazy Eastern European herbal remedy scam, or, by trying it, having finally admitted to himself that he didn't have the sexual prowess to satisfy his wife?
With shaking hands, John took the box to the garage and made sure that Cynthia wasn't home and no one was watching. He sat the plain cardboard box down on his work bench and used a utility knife to open it, careful not to cut too deep and damage what was inside. When he lifted the flaps, all he saw were white packing peanuts, so he started digging through them with his fingers. He knew there had to be a bottle or something in here, right? As he sifted through the packing foam and felt nothing, he began to feel a deep dread. What if they'd sent him an empty box? What if that was the scam? Then it occurred to John that it made no sense. If they weren't going to send him the pills, why pay for the shipping on an empty box? His fears were just eating at him.
Then his fingers brushed against something smooth and plastic and he snagged it by the edge and pulled it out. It was a ziplock sandwich bag full of little white pills. That was it. No label, no bottle, nothing. Just a small baggy of pills in a box of foam peanuts. There was a small slip of paper with what looked like mimeographed letters.
"Take two each day, morning & night, until complete." The instructions read.
"You have got to be shitting me!" John muttered under his breath. "This is it? What kind of chicken shit outfit is this? Apparently the kind that suckered $100 from stupid American men, that's what." John was about to throw the whole thing away in disgust when he noticed the calendar. Today was Thursday and Cynthia usually let him fuck her on Saturday, so if he started taking the pills now, maybe he'd notice something by then? What the hell, he'd already paid for them. So, John slipped one little white pill in his mouth and swallowed, and then brought the baggy back into the house and looked around for some place to hide it, settling on a hollow behind the bathroom mirror. He knew the spot was there because he installed the mirror, and had even joked with Cynthia, at the time, that it would be a good place to hide some dope. Now that joke seemed more darkly prophetic than it was meant.
John hadn't noticed any changes yet, at least nothing he could be absolutely certain was the effects of the pills and not just something in his head. Saturday came and so did John, grunting and thrusting in his wife's slick wet pussy. But, as usual, she dripped his small cum deposit into the toilet and took care of herself with her vibrator, looking over at her husband with a combination of pity and scorn; something only a wife could manage and make so devastating.
It was 2 O'Clock on Monday afternoon when John knew that something was wrong. He'd been taking the pills just as the instructions (if three poorly mimeographed lines could be said to be instructions), one each morning when he woke up and one just before going to bed. He'd taken nine of the pills so far, and would be taking his tenth tonight, but something was definitely wrong. His balls started aching at lunch time, and now the pain was a constant, pulsing, pressure. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn some midget was following him around and repeatedly whacking him in the nutsack with a wiffleball bat. This was miserable!
Then the nagging fears and doubts crept in. 'What if the pills are poisoning me? What if they're making me sterile? Or worse ... what if my nuts are going to swell and turn blue and fall off!' He was near hysterics when he quickly excused himself to his manager for not feeling well and took off for home, early. "I'm going to see what I can find out about these damn pills as soon as I get home! What the hell have I done to myself!" He thought.
As John pulled up to his house, he noticed a car in the driveway and it wasn't Cynthia's. In fact, it looked vaguely familiar and the whole situation seemed strange. Cynthia hadn't told him about any guest or work being done on the house or anything else like that. He was going to go in and ask when a sudden tingle at the base of his skull caught his attention and made him rethink that plan. She wasn't expecting him home so early. Why not just wait and see who comes out?
John parked down the street and behind some bushes, just far enough not to be easily spotted but with a view of his front door. It was a narrow, limited view, but a view none the less. The ache in his balls nearly forgotten as he waited, and different scenarios ran through his mind. About an hour later he saw his front door open and a tall blonde man step out, then turn, lean down, and kiss Cynthia before turning back and walking to the car.
"HOLY SHIT!" John exclaimed. "That bastard Roger is ... rogering my wife!" now he knew the car, it was the one Roger had been bragging about. The brand new Mercedes with all of the extra features and bells and whistles, and the one he'd gotten a great deal on because his wife, Claudia, had been flirting with the salesmen. John always thought Roger and Claudia were asses, but this was too much. As much as John wanted to pull into his driveway, storm up to the front door, and confront his wife over what he'd seen, something held him back.
First, would she even care? If she was having an affair, then she probably wouldn't mind the divorce, and a divorce would wipe out their savings and leave him with very little ... and that after wasting a year of his life in court. Plus, there was still the vindictive streak in Cynthia that would somehow see to it that her infidelity would be blamed on him. His sexual inadequacies would be publicized and she would come off as the desperate wife with the milquetoast husband, driven into having an affair. It wasn't fair, but the scenario played out in John's mind too realistically to ignore. She'd come off as the victim and he'd be the chump.
"No fucking way!" John resolved. He'd have to find another way to fix this. So, he waited until his usual time and then pulled into his driveway. He walked into the house as casually as he could muster and sat his briefcase down and called out to Cynthia. "Hello honey! I'm home!"
"Yeah, I heard you come in." She replied briskly.
"You know," John began in a conversational tone, "on my way home today, I think I saw one of those Mercedes ... like the one that Roger and Claudia have. That reminded me, we haven't heard much from them in a few months; weren't we supposed to invite them over for a barbeque sometime?"
Cynthia stepped into the room and stared at him for a moment, with what John surmised to be her best poker face. "I thought you didn't like them? Why would we invite them over?"
"Oh, you know, they're not my favorite couple but you seem to enjoy Claudia's company and we did promise them ..." John let that sentence fade.
"I don't feel like hosting a big thing this month, let's see if they call us or drop any hints." With that, the subject closed, she turned around and went back to whatever she was straightening up before.
"OK Hon, if that's what you think best." John walked to the bedroom and as soon as he closed the door, leaned against it and breathed deeply. He was sure now, as much as she prided herself on being smarter and more savvy then him, he could still read her expressions and her tightly controlled nonchalance plus what he'd seen earlier could only mean he had been right - she was fucking Roger.
"What a bitch!" John whispered to himself. "She 'consents' to one lame fuck a week and I bet she's fucking his brains out. I bet she's sucking his cock!" John knew he had to get a handle, or he'd work himself up into a fit. "How many times have I kissed her on the lips, after she sucked his cock? That bitch!"
But he had to be honest here, his anger was fueled more by jealousy and hurt then betrayal. Hadn't he been thinking of leaving her? Hadn't he been fantasizing about fucking other women or starting an affair? It wasn't that he had invested everything in Cynthia and she'd stepped on his heart. No, it was that she wouldn't suck his cock and only, begrudgingly, let him fuck her but then she'd give herself to some slick douchebag like Roger.
After dinner, Cynthia cleared the table and set-up a coffee service in the living room. She liked to have coffee and dessert while watching some inane Reality TV show, after dinner.
"Be a dear and bring my cheese cake, would you?" She asked John, "My show's already started and I don't want to miss any more."
"OK, sure." John almost added "Honey" but couldn't bring himself to say that with what he now knew. So, like a robot, he got up and went to the kitchen to cut a slice of cheesecake and put it on a small plate. While he was running warm water over the knife, so that it would cut a clean line and the cheesecake wouldn't stick to it, the aching in his balls returned with a vengeance. He almost doubled over in pain, and grabbed them with his right hand to soothe the ache. They felt huge! His nuts were definitely swollen, and his sack was so sensitive that just a little pressure sent sensations through his groins, and made his cock spring up hard.
Then it occurred to him, they were full! His balls were heavy with seed and he needed to drain them. This felt a lot like that mystical 'blue balls' guys often talked about, but that never amounted to much more then a horny guy trying to talk his date into a handjob or something. No, this was different. This felt like what blueballs were described as, but times 100! His nutsack was so heavy and full, John began to get desperate. If he could drop off the cheesecake and get into a bathroom, then he'd be able to jerk-off and get some relief.
"Hey, where's my cheesecake? The shows almost half over already!" Cynthia called from the living room, loudly. John looked down at the creamy white cheese cake and the bottle of whipped cream and thought about Cynthia's mouth wrapped around Roger's cock ... and a wicked thought occurred to him.
"Just one moment, Dear!" He called back, "I'm putting some whipped cream on it and I'll have it ready in one moment!" Making sure that Cynthia was glued to the TV in the other room and couldn't see him, he snatched the slice of cheesecake and moved into the pantry, off the kitchen. He carefully placed it on a lower shelf and eased his pants down. His hard cock sprang into view and his aching sack dropped heavily beneath it. John began to fist his dick, back and forth, and slide his uncut foreskin over and back. He was already near bursting, but the thought of making that smarmy bitch swallow his jizz just made the whole thing so exciting, it didn't take long. As he felt his testicles pull up into his abdomen, ready to release their load, he aimed his thick cock at the slice of cheesecake and let loose.
There was soooo much cum! Blast after blast shot out and splattered off the top of the cake and splashed onto the back of the shelf. [He'd have to clean that up later, if he didn't want Cynthia to ever suspect anything.] And even when the powerful squirts stopped, the long strands of off-white man-cream kept flowing out of his piss-slit and onto the cheesecake. It was coated and sat in a pool of jizz, and when finally the last drop had been milked out, John carefully pressed the tip of his dick into the soft top of the cheesecake and left a little mushroom shaped impression. He stopped for a moment to admire his work, and then the urgency of his situation hit him. So, he quickly tucked his (now relieved) cock and balls back in his pants and carried the cake back to the kitchen. Then he covered it in whipped cream. Not sure if that would be enough, he dug through the refrigerator and found some strawberry syrup, and drizzled a little of that on top and around the sides. When it was as good as it was going to get, he grabbed a napkin and fork, put on a noncommittal smile, and carried into the living room, to his wife.
He sat it on the TV tray next to her and then returned to the kitchen to clean-up any trace of his little prank. He was dying to sit there and watch her eat it, but didn't think he could do it without giving something away in his face. When ten minutes had passed, no splattered cum was left anywhere, and he thought he could compose himself, he rejoined her in the living room and sat in his usual comfortable chair. The cake was half gone and Cynthia was absentmindedly licking the fork. The TV show was in the middle of some ridiculous ceremony of some kind, obviously rehearsed and trying way too hard to look spontaneous. But John was just watching Cynthia. She was too focussed on the TV to notice him or the slight salty under-taste of her dessert. But watching her slide a forkful of cheesecake into her mouth, and knowing that it was coated in his cum was making John hard, all over again. This was the biggest turn-on he'd had with Cynthia in over a year and as wicked and depraved as it really was, he was also enjoying it.
An hour had passed and Cynthia had finished her cheesecake and was sitting rather passively in front of the TV. When her show ended and another came on, she didn't change channels or react. John was about to comment when it caught him, she hated this news show and yet she was just sitting there, staring ahead with half-lidded eyes. 'She must be in some sugar induced coma, after all that cake, cream, and strawberry syrup.' John thought to himself.
"Honey, if you're that tired, why don't you go to bed?" He said to her.
"Wha?" She replied, turning to look at him, but really looking like she was already asleep.
"Cynthia!" He said sharper, "Go to bed!" Of course, he didn't expect her to. She'd argue and fight with him, just for the sake of it, and then complain bitterly in the morning that he'd 'let her stay up'. But, what the hell, he was annoyed and maybe if she went to bed he could jerk-off again. To his utter surprise, she quietly stood and began walking to the bedroom. "Hon, take you plate back to the kitchen, OK?" He added. Again, she wordlessly grabbed her cake plate and took it to the kitchen. Then stood in the kitchen doorway, as if confused about where to go next. "Cynthia, are you OK?" John asked, worried.
"I took the plate back." She answered simply.
"For God's sake, you look completely wasted. Why not go to bed now and get some sleep?"
"OK, John." And without another word, she turned and walked to the bedroom. This began to worry John, he was already feeling just a little guilty about cuming on her cake and now she was acting sort of trippy or sedated or something. So, he followed her into the bedroom and watched her lay down on the bed, clothes and all and just stare at the ceiling.
"Uh, Cynthia, how about I help you get out of those clothes, OK?" He prompted. She just looked at him and nodded, and lifted her arms, childlike, so that he could tug off her blouse. John had only seen Cynthia like this once before, and that was the one night on their honeymoon that she got so drunk he needed to carry her back to their suite, and get her undressed before propping her on the edge of the bed near a trash can so she'd have something to hurl into if she got sick during the night. This was like that, except there was no alcohol and she wasn't wobbling around, drunk and uncoordinated. Instead, she really looked and acted like someone sedated into a stupor. So, John carefully undressed her and pulled her sweat pants off and looked down to enjoy her body, while she lay there.
To her credit, and despite the desserts a couple of nights a week, Cynthia was still a very attractive woman. The first thing John had noticed is the first thing most men do, when they meet her - her large, soft, natural breasts. They were just over a "D" cup in size and her creamy skin made them look so wonderfully squeezable. But, she hated it when he played with her tits, and so he rarely got to anymore. Still, here she was, 'out of it' and his cock was still ramrod stiff. Why not?
Reaching over, John unclasped her bra and pulled it off, exposing her beautiful breasts. He reached forward and gently cupped them, then watched her face for any change. She didn't seem to notice or care or, perhaps, neither. So, he continued to cup and gently squeeze them. As he handled her breasts, he could feel her nipples become erect and so moved his hands to gently tweak them between forefinger and thumb. As he applied a gentle pressure to her nipples, Cynthia bit her lower lip and quietly moaned, but didn't say anything or shift her position or did anything else to indicated that she was upset and he should stop. So, he kept going! It was fun to play with her heavy tits and tweak and pinch and handle them, again, like when they were first dating. Of course, his cock was so hard now, that it actually hurt to be kept in his pants. So, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants and boxers, to expose his cock and balls to the cool bedroom air. As he moved forward to continue playing with her tits, his dick poked Cynthia in the arm and John froze.
Nothing happened. She just didn't react. He had no idea what was going on, but this was the most access he'd had to her body in a long time and he wasn't going to give it up so easily. When he looked carefully at her face and saw the passive expression and eyes, still half closed, he began to wonder how far he could take this. Could he fuck her like this? What about a blowjob? What the hell! So, standing beside where she lay on the bed, John moved his left hand to gently stroke her hair and turn her face towards the edge of the bed and towards his monster hard-on. He was very gentle, and she didn't resist at all. He then shuffled over and forward a bit, grabbing the base of his cock with his right hand, and aimed it at her lips. Drops of precum were already formed on the tip, and as he brought his cock to her mouth he gently smeared the precum over her lips. John was staring intensely into Cynthia's eyes to see if she'd 'snap out of it' or 'come to' or something, but she didn't really react. He grew bolder and pressed his cock head between her lips and against her teeth, and while she didn't complain or resist, she also didn't open her mouth. Feeling a little desperate just to see how far he could go, he moved his right hand from the base of his cock and gently pressed two fingers on her chin, pushing her mouth open. As it opened, he moved his hips and slid his cock-head between her teeth and into her mouth. As soon as his cock brushed the back of her throat, he let go of her chin and her mouth closed over his cock head; she just lay there looking up at him and holding his dick in her mouth.
This was already so erotic that he could hardly stand it, but he needed more stimulation if he was actually going to cum. So, still holding her head into position with his left hand, he moved his right to stroke her face and told her, "Nurse on it. Nurse on my hard cock, Baby." And when he felt her tongue begin to tickle the sensitive underside as her mouth began to rhythmically suck, he actually felt a wave pass through his body and make him weak in the knees. He held himself up with all of his might, and did his best not to move his cock out of her mouth. She just kept sucking on it, just like he'd asked, like she was an infant with a bottle. While her warm, wet, suckling mouth was making John nearly dizzy with pleasure, he moved his right hand back to her breasts and began squeezing them in rhythm with her sucks. This was just too much, more then he ever expected to get from his wife and better then any fantasized-about coed.
As the power he had over her, hit him, he lost it. She was his little suck-slut and he was going to cream in her mouth as much as he could. His swollen balls tightened and he felt the most powerful orgasm of his life surge through him. "Drink my jizz! Swallow it all down! Swallow down my cream!" John shouted. This was the BEAST IN THE BEDROOM, all right! He came over and over, into her suckling mouth. And, like a babe getting milk from a teat, she swallowed and swallowed and kept sucking and swallowing until his balls were completely spent and his dick was so sensitive that the sucking was actually beginning to become painful. Letting go of her tit, John brought his right hand back to her jaw and pushed with both hands, one on her forehead and the other on her jaw, and pulled his softening cock from his wife's mouth. As he got his cock free, she closed her mouth, and a thin strand of escaped jizz ran down the corner, onto her pillow and soaked in.
She still lay there, heavily sedated, and looking utterly passive. In fact, she seemed in an even deeper stupor then before! What was wrong with her? Had she taken drugs? Did she have a secret drug habit that's left her narcoleptic or something? Then a dark suspicion pushed itself into his consciousness: he was the one with the secret drug habit. Hadn't he been taking the little white pills, and hadn't they worked? His balls had been full to bursting with cum and he'd just cum twice in just over an hour, and both times his quantity had been quite prodigious. What if there was something in his cum, some residue from the pills, and they made his cum a sedative. No! Not just a sedative, if that was it she'd be sleeping now. Now, she was in a trance or stupor. John had read about drugs like this, "hypnogogic" they were called ... or something like that. Chemistry had never been his strong suite in college. In any case, Cynthia had just been given two large doses of whatever psychoactive drug was now being produced in his balls.
And if it meant turning his cheater of a wife into a dick-sucking cum-dump, then he was going to keep on dosing her. In fact, guzzling his cum was going to be a daily part of her routine from now on, John resolved. Things were going to be changing around here, after all.
A week had passed since John discovered the pleasant (for him) side effects of the mystery drug he'd been taking. And what a week it'd been! Cynthia was as tame as a kitten and passed her days in a submissive haze, compliant to every one of John's commands. John enjoyed sleeping with Cynthia turned around, ass up and head down. He'd had her faithfully shaving her pussy bare and actually enjoyed being near it. It was pretty, he thought. While she would seldom let him 'play with her', now she lay passively as he probed her pussy with his fingers, spreading it out and licking it when it suited him to. He could also probe and finger her asshole, with no complaints from Cynthia! She'd moan and fidget from the discomfort and invasiveness, but she no longer had the will to stop his explorations. Further, with her head deep under the covers, and aligned nicely with his cock and always-heavy-with-sperm balls, he usually had her mouth too occupied for any complaining.
This Saturday morning, he'd decided to stay in bed and contemplate what else he could do with his new found power. He was enjoying her wet mouth working over his cock for what had to be the hundredth blowjob this week. He was turned on his side and could see the blankets move as her had slowly worked back and forth, underneath. He knew she must be uncomfortable under the blankets with stale air, cock musk, and farts to keep her company but John also knew that she'd treated him very poorly for a very long time and had been fucking that prick Roger while leaving him high and dry. He didn't feel too badly about her state. While she worked her tongue around and around his swollen cock head and reflexively swallowed the pre-cum he now seemed to produce almost all the time, he had buried his face in her bare snatch and was enjoying the aroma of her pussy while teasing and tickling her clit with is tongue. John knew she was getting excited by the way her hips would suddenly buck or quiver and by how moist her slit was becoming. But he didn't feel like getting her off this morning, and leaving her frustratedly aroused but unsatisfied, while enjoying her body all the same, just added to the fittingness of what he increasingly thought of as her 'punishment'.
That's when it occurred to him that the person he should also have in his sights was Roger! John had always disliked Roger with his fake orange tan and big talk about vacationing in this sunny place or that luxurious spa while always trying to borrow money for yet-another-no-lose investment that never seemed to profit anyone other than Roger. And Roger's wife, Claudia, was no better. Bleach blonde hair like straw, ridiculously oversized breast implants, and the practiced affectation of someone who wasn't only shallow but actively disliked anyone who had ever picked up a newspaper or read a book. They were quite the 'class act', the two of them. John always assumed they were swingers, but if Roger was here alone, he was just a cad. No, John had some power and a couple of new targets and he was going to use it!
As a plan of sorts began to form, John was overwhelmed with the sense of potency and power he was going to wield. Cynthia had wanted a 'tiger in the bedroom' but was going to get something much more than that! At that he surged into her mouth, and bucked his hips lodging his long, thick cock deeply in her pliant throat. He kept pumping his hips and pumping out squirt after squirt of thick, ropey, semen. Semen laced with whatever hypnogogic drug was now being manufactured in his enhanced ball sack. He heard Cynthia gag and cough with her morning dose, or 'breakfast' as he liked to call it, but she was on standing orders to always swallow his cum and then clean up his cock when he was done. Sure enough, he felt her tongue licking and cleaning him of any stray strands while this dose worked on her system, reinforcing her compliant stupor.
When he felt that she had cleaned enough, he threw back the covers and enjoyed the sight of Cynthia's face, slicked with sweat and saliva and semen. It was time for their shower! He got up and ordered her to follow him, which she did sluggishly but obediently. John needed to take his morning shit first, and enjoyed having Cynthia kneel beside him while he did his business. When he was down, he ordered her to wipe his ass - a new job he'd decided would be hers whenever he was home - and then he stood and stepped into the shower. Once he had the water on and hot enough, he ordered her to follow, bracing her to make sure she didn't slip and fall in her less-than-coordinated movements.
"Kneel! Get down there and suck on my big toe and don't stop until I tell you to." John commanded in the authoritative way he was fast becoming used to. Cynthia got down on her knees and then bent even lower to put he face against the tile floor of the shower stall. Then she moved forward and wrapped her lips around the big toe on John's left foot. Her face, pressed against the floor and mouth sucking, slurping on his toe, with her ass up in the air and pressed against the other wall of their shower. Now the part John enjoyed, and only felt a little guilty about. He began peeing on her head. He'd enjoyed peeing in the shower before, but having such a lively target made it more fun! She squirmed and tried to blink the hot urine from her eyes as she kept her mouth wrapped around his toe and slurped on it like a baby on a nipple. John aimed his piss stream to her hair and her cheeks and in her ear. Mostly, he just enjoyed the feeling of mastery that having her down, fastened to his foot while he pissed all over her head, gave him. When his bladder was empty, he ordered her up and rinsed her off with the shower wand. Then he washed his upper torso with a soapy washcloth while she took care of everything below his waist.
When he was through he stepped out of the shower and ordered her to stand and wash herself. He dried off and slipped into his comfortable sweat pants and tee-shirt, and then returned to the bathroom to finish with Cynthia. She was still standing under the water, staring at the wall, waiting for further instructions. The water had grown cold by now, and she stood there shivering, teeth chattering, but unable to move without his command. John turned the water off and lead her carefully out, and toweled her off with her favorite giant, plush towel. Then he wrapped a terry clothe robe around her and dried her hair. She stood, mutely, while he ministered to her and he swore he almost caught a look of ... adoration? appreciation? in her eyes.
She was in a drugged stupor, but she was still his wife and despite her sins against him, he still loved her. But, he loved her better in this more malleable state! So, he lead her to the kitchen for their real breakfasts. He fried eggs and made toast for himself, and placed a couple of scoops of protein powder and some yogurt in a blender for her. Then, while he leaned against the counter and ate with his plate in his hand, he ordered her to kneel and to suck him off, again. This blowjob was less about the pleasure of it, then the need to keep milking his balls dry. They refilled rapidly, and if he didn't discharge them every three or four hours, they'd begin to get tender and eventually painfully swollen. Besides, Cynthia needed to eat. So, as he neared his second orgasm of the day, he ordered her to NOT swallow this load but hold it in her mouth. He still came copiously, forcing her to tilt her head back and keep her mouth completely open like a cup or bowl for his seed. When he was finished, he directed her to drool it into the blender bowl and wiped the rest off of her face with the bowls edge. Then he placed it back onto it's motor base, capped it, and turned it on. When the contents were creamy smooth, he poured it into a glass for her and watched as she drank his yogurt-semen smoothie. She was still on her knees in front of him, and he liked her this way. She seemed to be getting more and more used to kneeling near or before him, and John was getting used to the idea of having near absolute control of another human being.
When she was done with her smoothy, and her second dose for the day, John dumped his plate, her glass, and the blender into the dishwasher and then helped her to her feet. He lead her to the living room and sat her next to him on the couch. Now it was time to enact the next phase of his plan!
He rehearsed her lines with her, over and over, until he was confident she could deliver them smoothly. Then he dialed Claudia, Rogers wife, up on the phone. As soon as Claudia answered, he handed the phone to Cynthia and gave her the sign to start.
"Why, hello Claudia. It's so nice to hear your voice again." Cynthia said in a pace a little too even and practiced.
"Uh, who? Oh! Is that you, Cynthia? Well I guess it's nice hearing from you, too." Claudia said, moving from uncertainty to boredom within the span of a single sentence.
"Yes, this is Cynthia. I was calling because we'd love to have you over for lunch. You see, we were going to go on a seven day cruise and thought it would be so much more fun if you and Roger came with us." Cynthia continued.
"A cruise? Really? Where?" Claudia's attention was peaked after all.
"Oh, we have several possible destinations. All sunny and beautiful and a few quite exclusive. We were wondering if you'd like to come over today and look through them, and then you could go back to Roger with a recommendation. How does that sound, you and I can look through the pamphlets and enjoy a Mimosa over lunch. What do you say?"
"That sounds great! I'll be over at 1:00 and I can't wait to come back and tell Roger we're going on another fabulous cruise!" Claudia concluded.
That had gone better then John had hoped. Apparently, Claudia's shallowness and eagerness for yet-another-vacation kept her from noticing the dreamy, inauthentic lilt to Cynthia's voice. But, he only had an hour before she'd arrive and he needed to get their lunch ready. So, he ordered Cynthia to return to the bedroom and put on a bikini top and short-shorts, with those strappy heals she bought for the summer. While she did that, he mixed together some mayo and diced chicken for chicken salad sandwiches. Of course, he threw in a healthy glob of his warm cum into the mix and stirred it carefully in. Then he mixed the champagne and orange juice for the Mimosa's. Finally, he whipped up some light vanilla mousse - adding another healthy dollap of his creamy cum to the mix. He was sure that everything would taste a little off, but with the Mimosa's and Claudia's eagerness to spend Rogers money, he was hoping she wouldn't notice. All he had to do was throw on some dockers and a polo shirt, and wait for Claudia to arrive. He'd play domesticated house-husband and wait on the two ladies, while leaving them to talk and eat.
Cynthia came out of the bedroom looking fantastic, but her shoes weren't laced up correctly, with the long straps dragging behind her instead of wrapped around her ankles. And her bikini top was on inside-out! Well, there definitely seemed to be a downside to keeping her in this state and while John kneeled to properly strap her shoes and get her in her top correctly, he began to wonder if there was a way to reduce her dosage without losing his grip on her will. Hearing Claudia's car in the driveway, he had to shelve that thought for later, and quickly got Cynthia positioned at the breakfast nook. Absentmindedly tossing some dated cruise brochures on the table, something they had picked up a few years ago and never used.
Claudia knocked on the door and it was John who went to answer. She looked surprised for a moment and then recovered and entered the house. "I thought it was just going to be us girls, this afternoon." Claudia said while entering and dropping her large, floppy sun hat onto a nearby chair before joining Cynthia at the small round table in the breakfast nook.
"Don't mind me!" John replied, while closing the door and hustling past her, aimed at the kitchen. "I'm just here to serve lunch and then head up to my office for some work. You won't even know I'm here." With that, John went and got the tray of sandwiches and Mimosa's. He dropped them off at the small table with the two ladies, as nonchalant as possible before retreating to the kitchen to listen in and watch what effect, if any, his adulterated food would have.
Claudia started her usual bubbly babble, going on and on about the last cruise she and Roger enjoyed. She was describing the delicious food and all of the bars onboard the ship and all of the cute stewards who had waited on them. Cynthia wasn't really keeping up, but Claudia didn't notice or mind, always being one to talk and not one to listen. The chatter was punctuated by Claudia's lips wrapping around the little sandwich squares and sipping on her Mimosa. Though John had said he'd be up in his office, he stayed to watch her from just around the kitchen door. Her demeanor changed only slightly, or was he imagining it? Her eye lids seemed to get a little heavier, her speech a little slower. Nothing overt, but several subtle signs similar to what he had seen in Cynthia that first night.
For her part, Cynthia was eating her sandwich mechanically, biting and chewing as if following instructions - which of course, she was. When the sandwiches were done John appeared with refills for the Mimosa's and the two cups of mousse. Knowing that Claudia was eating his cum, that he had been able to secretly get her to swallow his semen, was turning John on. His heavy erection was bulging his dockers and he was getting worried that if she saw him before fully dosed, it would ruin everything. But, by keeping out of her direct sight and covering his crotch with a dish towel while he collected their cups, he was careful to keep his rock hard erection from her notice. But his balls were beginning to ache, and even though he had already drained them several times this morning, the need to feed his potent seed to Claudia was driving his swollen nut sack into overdrive.
When he heard an extended break in the conversation, he peaked around the corner and saw Claudia leaning on her hands, elbows on the table, like a student bored with a lecture during a first period after a night of partying. She seemed to be struggling to keep her eyes open, and had (thankfully!) stopped her incessant chatter. John now needed a way to test how pliant she'd be. So, stepping back out into the room with them, but standing several feet away, he gently but firmly made a suggestion to her.
"Claudia, you look tired. Why don't you get up and go lay down on the living room couch." When she only seemed to partially stir, he became more insistent, "Claudia! Go lay down on the couch. Come on, get moving." And at that, she did. She stood, looked around dazedly, and then shuffled off to the living room. John collected Cynthia and they both followed her, but before Claudia could collapse on the couch John gave her another command. "Claudia, wouldn't you be more comfortable without that top on? Why not take off your top before you lay down." And to John's very pleasant surprise, she quietly, though a bit clumsily, complied. Then she laid down and seemed to slip into a light sleep.
"Cynthia, go and remove Claudia's shoes and her skirt. Be careful and don't disturb her, but get everything else off of her so she's naked." John commanded, and then stood to the side while watching his wife kneel and begin to work off Claudia's skirt and stockings and shoes. When she finished and looked back at John for further instruction, Claudia was completely naked, laying there vulnerable and ready for her real introduction to John's little harem of submissive wives. John unzipped and lowered his pants, stepping out of them as he moved over to her on the couch. He took a minute to examine and appreciate her body. While he didn't particularly like her "E" cup, obviously fake breasts, he did like her firm abs and the little "landing strip" pubic hair that lead, like an arrow, to her meaty and exposed vagina. Her hair was so bleached it was nearly white, and her makeup was applied too heavily. But her face was symmetrical and attractive and her lips were full and moist and would look amazing wrapped around his cock.
"Cynthia, I want you to wet your fingers and begin to finger Claudia here. You keep fingering her cunt for me, while I feed her a full dose of spunk." John told Cynthia, and she began to obey by licking two of her fingers, and then sliding them into Claudia; mechanically moving them in and out, repeatedly finger-fucking this bimbo. John watched Claudia's face contort and she moaned lightly. She knew her body was being violated and that she was utterly vulnerable, but she was too stupefied to react any more than this, or to prevent her further abuse. John placed one foot up on the couch behind her head, and then bent his knees. The position was a bit awkward for him, but allowed him to align his cock with her mouth where he smeared the dribbling pre-cum across her lips. Then, just as he had done with his wife, he used his right hand to gently push down on Claudia's chin, opening her jaw, while he pushed the head of his cock into that opening. Claudia's eyes were closed now, and she crinkled her nose and moved her head to the side, sliding his cock out. John was surprised that she was resisting him so much. He then took her chin more firmly in his right hand and turned it back towards him and pushed it open, again. Firmly seating his swollen cock head in her mouth, he gave her the verbal command to overthrow her resistance.
"Claudia, you must suck it. You must nurse on my cock like a babe with it's bottle. Close your beautiful lips around my cock and nurse on it! And when you taste my man milk on your tongue - you swallow it. Keep sucking and swallowing ... that's right." John spoke to her, and she obeyed. Claudia, eyes closed, locked her lips around his cock head and nursed like a baby. Her lips moved back and forth with her tongue circling around his head, and her cheeks dimpling in and out as her sucking action worked. It felt incredible! Her mouth, so warm and wet and working hard to draw out his cream was causing a thin but continuous trickle of pre-cum to leak into her mouth. And, as she was commanded, she swallowed it and kept nursing on him. Meanwhile, Cynthia's hand was pistoning in and out of Claudia's pussy, and making a sloppy wet sound as she did so. The smell of Claudia's pussy was filling the room and turning John on even more, so he reached down and began to pinch and tweak Claudia's erect nipples, swatting and slapping her ball like breasts. This was getting a reaction from Claudia who seamed to get wetter still, and looking down, John could see the pussy juices on Cynthia's hand and running down the crack of Claudia's ass while Cynthia continued her repetitive, mechanical assault on the prone woman.
Then the idea of what he could make the two women do to each other put him over the top and John bucked his thighs, immediately filling Claudia's mouth with the thick strands of his salty cum. Unable to disobey, she swallowed and swallowed, continuing to nurse on his cock, her tongue dancing over the head while he pumped more cum into her mouth. This seemed to push Claudia over the edge as well, and suddenly her back arched, lifting her butt off the couch, as she moaned around his dick and shot lubricant down Cynthia's arm and onto the couch.
She had orgasmed, swallowing his spunk! That was an interesting fact, John thought. He let her nurse the remainder from his deflating cock before pulling it out of her mouth and then Cynthia's hand from out of her pussy. Claudia lay on the couch, flushed and breathing deeply. Crotch and thighs slick with her own juices; lips and mouth slick with his. Did she have a fetish for cum swallowing before this? Did she used to climax as she swallowed Roger's cum? John contemplated this, and then decided it didn't matter. She'd be swallowing his from now on, and if it got her off, then all the better. He enjoyed watching her cum and squirt when she did. He'd also enjoy watching his wife eat that pussy while he filled Claudia's mouth with more of his cum. But, that was for later - now he needed to complete his revenge on Roger.
Roger was devastated, of course. Claudia had called him and announced that she knew of his affair with Cynthia and that she was divorcing him. She relayed how she was going to get half of everything he owned, and that she was staying 'with friends' and wouldn't even tell him where. What made it worse then coming out of the blue, was the way her words were delivered. Calm, paced, rehearsed. This was no frantic, upset Claudia he could talk down and into forgiving him like all those times in the past. This Claudia meant business and that meant they were through.
It took six months for Claudia's divorce from Roger to complete. Interestingly enough, John was able to use a lawyer friend as a go between and this kept anyone from suspecting that Claudia was kept in a perpetually drugged state. She only had to make a few appearances before the judge, and remaining quiet and speaking slowly was just seen as a sign of her deep emotional upset at her husbands infidelity.
John was very pleasantly surprised at how much money Claudia got in the divorce, now all his to control. But he also noted that Roger was already out 'dating' again, with a divorced woman and probably one or two others on the side. Oh, well. He was a cad and he was getting laid. But then, John was getting laid as well.
In fact, over the last six months John had perfected his routine. Taking care of two women who were perpetually suspended between waking and sleeping was a lot of work. He learned how much they could be expected to do, and what he needed to do for them. It didn't bother him, though. He enjoyed dressing them (when he allowed them to wear clothes) and to trim their hair and he had to do a lot of the chores around the house. Sure, he could get them to dust a little or wash the dishes, but they weren't worth much else in the work department. What made it all worth while was their completely compliant nature when it came time for John to fulfill his increasingly more demanding sexual needs.
He had Claudia go and get her breast implants removed. Her tits were now just "B" cups, with the excess skin removed during the same surgery. Smaller, they looked and felt better. He also had both of his girls undergo laser hair removal for all hair below the neck - he wanted them bare and repeated shavings was becoming a chore. Finally, hating the way Claudia's hair looked, and impatient for her natural color to grow in, he shaved her head bare. She actually sat in the chair and cried while he first ran the electric razor over her head, and then a disposable double-bladed razor over the stubble. There was definitely something of the woman in there, just compliant, submissive, subservient.
To his surprise, he really liked the look and decided to keep Claudia bald.
Though he kept them in the house nearly all the time, and wearing nothing more then a loose fitting A-shirt. When they had to go out, he'd have her wear a kerchief and hat to cover her bald head. But at home, he never let her cover it up and it made her look, somehow, more naked to be bald.
He kept both women heavily dosed with his sperm. He enjoyed such new sensations as lying in bed with each woman straddling one of his legs and rubbing themselves on his ankles while sucking wetly on his balls and cock. Making them hump his legs like dogs, real bitches in heat, their pussy juice moistening his ankles while they moaned and quivered, all the while tonguing and sucking on his groin.
One day John got an idea for a bit of a wood shop project. He needed to leave the two women at home, but was worried about what they'd do if someone came to the house. The hypnogogic affect was generalized, not specific so they'd follow any suggestions given by anyone, not just commands given by him. What if a delivery person came to the door? What if Roger came by, perhaps looking for his (now ex-) wife? What if a million different things that could happen, did ... would his whole fantasy harem break down? No! He couldn't let that happen. So, John ordered two large dog kennels and had them delivered. Once they arrived, John assembled them in his master bedroom's walk-in closet. He spread some pillows and warm blankets in both and even mounted a large water bottle with the ball point spout, like those used for gerbils or mice but holding one liter each. When he was finally done, he ordered both women into their respective cages and padlocked the doors. Then he taught them how to use the water bottles. He wasn't too worried about them pissing into their bedding, he'd just hose them and their cages out later and launder the bedding. But, now he could be sure they wouldn't be seen or interact with anyone while he was gone.
With his two women secured, kennels padlocked, closet door closed, and house alarm armed; John was finally free to leave and do the shopping and other chores he wanted to. His original idea, some days ago, for a wood shop project, came back to him so he headed out to a home improvement store. There, he picked up a padded toilet seat, some 2x4's, wood screws, and a piece of plywood. Finally, on his way home, he cruised a couple of garage sales until he found a comfortable set of couch cushions he could purchase for next to nothing. With his materials finally acquired, John returned home and started work in the garage.
When he was finished, he returned to let the women out of their kennels. Both had pissed themselves and were lying in a puddle of their own urine. They both looked miserable to be locked up in the dark, and smelling of urine, but they noticeably brightened when John opened the closet and began unlocking their cages. It took a few minutes to get the women showered off and dry, and then to get all of the bedding into the washing machine. After that, it was time for John to try out his new toy, he called his 'throne'.
He had placed it in the middle of his living room, in front of the TV. The padded toilet seat was fixed to a frame of 2x4's and was about six inches off the ground. There plywood was attached, at a declined angle, to the frame and covered with one of the scrounged couch cushions. The whole thing made it look like a cross between a lounge chair and an outhouse potty. The two women looked nervously, through their half lidded eyes, but stood nude in the room, awaiting their masters instructions.
"Claudia, you're going to lie down on your back under my throne and position your face directly below the whole." John said. Claudia hesitated. "Claudia, you MUST obey. Go and lie down under my throne." John reiterated. With a slow, hesitant movement she did as instructed and lay on her back. She had to scoot on her shoulders and butt to get her head positioned under the toilet seat. Her body stretched out in front of the 'throne', feet pointed to the TV. "Excellent!" John exclaimed as he dropped his pants into the corner of the room and straddled Claudia's body to position himself onto the padded seat. It took a little wiggling, but he was able to get his ass right over her face, while leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him, to either side of his former foes ex-wife.
"Now, Cynthia, you're going to come and lay down on top of Claudia. Pussy to pussy, tits to tits. You lay on top of her so that your face is in my lap." John commanded. Cynthia moved over, eyes droopy with lethargy, but open and obeying. She kneeled down next to her co-slave and then straddled her body, adjusting her position so that her pussy was directly over Claudia's and her tits rested on top of other woman's. This brought Cynthia's face directly over the center of the seat and her husband/masters erect cock.
"Now, ladies ..." John began, taking the TV remote in hand and turning on the television to some mindless sporting event, "Claudia, you're going to be tonguing and sucking on my ass. Cynthia, you're going to be nursing on my cock. Nice and slow, there's no rush. We're going to be here for a while." Closing his eyes for a moment, John focussed on the soft wet tongue poking and dabbing at his sphincter. While he felt that strange and pleasant sensation, he also noted the warm, wet mouth of his wife, gently nursing on his cock. Both sides being ministered to, and he could lounge at his ease and enjoy a little TV.
"Deeper Claudia. You need to get your tongue inside now. You need to keep it there until I release you!" John instructed the lower woman. And, as he instructed, so she did; pushing her tongue up past his sphincter and into his asshole. He heard her moan and could feel her hot moist breath on his bottom while she thrust with her tongue into his ass. Meanwhile, the constant nursing, sucking of his wife's very practiced mouth was bringing him to a devastating climax. This was not just fantastic, but beyond his wildest hopes when, less than a year ago, he had been hoping to fuck his wife more than once a week and without the constant put-downs and hurtful glares. The transformation from that simpering monkey, tolerating so much for so little, to the man who was now sole master of his domain and the compliant, servile bodies and mouths of not one but two beautiful women, filled John with a great sense of power and accomplishment. He reached forward and grasped either side of Cynthia's head and held it while pushing down forcefully, pushing his cock into her throat and past the point of resistance. She began to gag, and her drool pooled in his lap to drip between his legs and onto Claudia, still buried tongue-deep in his asshole. John was pumping his potent semen into Cynthia, again, and dulling her senses even more. He kept pumping into her throat and mouth until he was down and pulled her off his cock.
Then he slid back, off of Claudia's face, and pressed Cynthia's head down through the seat. "Kiss her. Give her the remaining seed in your mouth, drool it into hers." John ordered Cynthia. "Claudia, you open your mouth and suck the cum out of hers. Slurp up the long white strands she's left to you." He ordered Claudia. Then he watched as the two women engaged in a wet, sloppy, slurping kiss transferring as much of the remaining cum from Cynthia's mouth and face to Claudia's. John was well satisfied with his new 'throne' and all of the afternoons he'd be spending, lounging on an upturned face and enjoying the nursing mouth of another.
"Do you know what today is, ladies?" John asked his two stupefied slaves. Both, nude and kneeling on the floor of the kitchen. They'd just drank their yogurt-semen smoothies for breakfast and were about to perform the next trick John had taught them. "Cynthia, time to drink - lean forward and open." Cynthia opened her mouth and leaned forward, knowing what was going to happen and closing her eyes, resigned to it. John directed his flaccid cock into her mouth and she automatically shut her lips tight, sealing the end of his dick in her waiting mouth.
"Today is the one year anniversary to the new, reborn, me!" John announced, triumphantly. And relaxing his bladder a little so that a squirt of hot piss filled Cynthia's mouth. She immediately swallowed it and began using her tongue to tickle the piss slit as she readied for more. "That's right, it was on this day, one year ago, that I first asserted myself on my shrewish, cheating wife, and all via a slice of cheese cake." He relaxed his bladder again, and squirted more urine directly into his wife's mouth. Being the first pee of the day, it was very strong tasting and acrid. She hated this, but could not resist his commands. Through repeated practice sessions he had taught both women to be his personal urinals. They would swallow as much pee as he had, and never spill a drop. And while both had been trained, he preferred to pee in his wife Cynthia's mouth.
"It really saved our marriage. I mean, we were so close to a divorce or other unpleasantness ... and look at where we are now!" And with this final declaration John opened his bladder up and pissed a continuous stream into his wife's gulping mouth. Cynthia was the better piss drinker, but Claudia spent a lot of time with her tongue up John's rectum. Of course, he could play with their tits any time he wanted to. He would fuck one and make the other eat his cum from her pussy. He had started fucking them both in the ass, and especially liked ass fucking Cynthia while Claudia tongue fucked his own.
Over the last year, John had grown to appreciate even the smallest things like being able to walk up to either woman and just slide his hand between their legs and force his fingers inside of them. They'd squirm and shift around, while he violated their pussy or asshole, but they wouldn't stop him and when he'd become subsequently aroused, they were always rewarded with a big heaping mouthful of his sticky white spunk. And each time they swallowed it, they would slip deeper into their perpetual twilight existence.
"You know, men in my position always, eventually, overstep themselves. They try to amass a harem of dozens or hundreds or go after little girls or celebrities or something else as public and foolish. They always get greedy and then fail. But, not me!" John mused to his captive audience. "Why do I need fifty women when I have two who will do whatever I want? What use is a new, different woman every day when I have you two so very well trained? No! I'm doubling down and maintaining the status quo." He continued. "I'm going to keep you two in this twilight state forever. I don't ever need to add to my little paradise. This year has proven to me, that things are great as they are and I can always find new and interesting ways for you to please me."
Claudia just stared ahead, on her knees, staring at the kitchen cabinet doors. Cynthia, with the taste of his urine still in her mouth, stared at his crotch, something she was now more familiar with than she had ever thought possible, and began to cry. Not a raking sob, just a few tears running from her eyes, down her cheeks. In her stupor, she wouldn't even have been able to answer exactly why she was crying. Perhaps the sense that any future other than her perpetual servitude was closed off to her now. Or the knowledge that her days would be an endless dream, never fully awake nor completely asleep. An endless dream of nursing mouthful after mouthful of cum from her husbands cock. Of swallowing his piss or licking his ballsack while he prodded and probed her to his satisfaction. Of kneeling in the dark and lapping his cum from another woman's sopping pussy. No more vacations or friends or book clubs or hobbies. Not for her.
"See Cynthia?" John suddenly asked while resting his cock on her forehead and across her face. "You can have your cake and eat it too!"