tagMind ControlBeetlesmith's Ch. 06

Beetlesmith's Ch. 06


First, I must thank Miss Bella Mariposa for editing this latest round of chapters to my Beetlesmith's saga. She has done a superlative job as always, and has saved me much embarrassment highlighting many of my more egregious grammatical errors. I have met few people, outside my own sweet lovely, who have exhibited a sharper mind and keener wit, nor anyone who possessed a more kind and gentle spirit than she does. Any errors that remain in syntax, characterization, or plotting are clearly the fault of the author, and no other. Thank you again, Bella. You are the greatest!

I should make note that barring something out of the ordinary, and unless stated otherwise, Bella will be editing all subsequent chapters until I finish this damnable tale. Those screams you may be hearing are most likely Bella trying to slit her wrists with a dull butter knife at this news.

For you readers, thanks so much for sticking with this story! I know I've been slow posting additional chapters, but I have a day job, and sometimes I don't have the time or wherewithal to write. As of now, I do have a considerable backlog of finished chapters, and will be releasing a new one every two to three weeks from now on. So, come back often to check on my Member's Page, and please leave a comment—I love reading your comments.


I was in a darkened space. I assumed it was a large room, although I had no sense of walls, only of a ceiling that supported two bright lamps shining down from above, illuminating Karen and Gloria. Both were blindfolded, expertly and sensuously bound to high-backed chairs that were facing each other. I could hear no sound except for the rapid breathing of my two captives. They squirmed weakly against their bonds, trying vainly to gain any amount of slack to exact some type of escape, or, at least, to gain some level of comfort from the tightness of their restraints. Their breasts were flushed scarlet as they protruded through gaps in their binding cords. Their nipples were hard and erect, belying their soft whimpers of protest at their maltreatment. They were, in fact, aroused.

I attended to Karen first, rubbing the underside of my swollen cock along her hardened nipples until a small bead of pre-ejaculate emerged. Putting the end of my cock close to her mouth, I could her feel warm breath enveloping and caressing me as she panted in sexual anticipation. No words were spoken, but as if by command, she touched the clear bead with her tongue, capturing it, and drew it back into her mouth. For a moment, a clear strand, consisting of a mixture of my fluid and her saliva formed a connecting bridge between my cock and her tongue. When the strand finally snapped back into her mouth, I plunged my member after it, allowing Karen to suck. Suck on it she did, with a greed and fervor she's rarely displayed in our married life. I pulled out of her before I neared climax, causing her to whine in disappointment.

I preformed the same ritual on Gloria. She too sucked on me with the same voracious hunger. I stopped again as I neared climax.

Just as I was turning my attention back to Karen, out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a figure that had been watching us from the shadows. When I turned to confront the figure, he stepped into the light, compelling me back into the darkness. The figure was a man, but the specific features of his face eluded me as if some dark, impenetrable veil shrouded them. He walked stiffly and with a limp. His body was similar to mine, all except for his massive organ, the end of which swung limply around mid-thigh whenever he moved.

Karen's bonds and blindfold fell away as the man limped toward her. The light from above shadowed her face, giving it the appearance of a grotesque, macabre mask, with deep, cavernous eyes, the depths of which were augmented all the more by the corpse-like paleness of her skin.

The man stood in front of Karen, and without word or sound, she applied hand and mouth to his flaccid organ until it stood out fully erect.

The veiled man then turned his attention to Gloria, who was still bound to her chair. His massive erection, slathered heavily with Karen's saliva, slid easily between her legs. Gloria began screaming in obvious delight...


My eyes snapped open. The dreams started the day after Gloria flew back to Colorado, the same recurring dream, unvarying each night.

What day did that make it? It was four days past, with four dreams. It was Wednesday morning.

Also, for the fourth straight morning, I felt my dear, sweet wife fondling me with mouth and hands under the covers. I'm still not sure what actually wakes me, Gloria's screams of pleasure, or feeling Karen going down on me. No matter, both seem to occur simultaneously.

As I watched Karen's head bob under the covers, I replayed the whole somnambular episode in my mind. I thought the whole thing strange, but in a good way. Not just the scenario playing out in my dream, but that I still recall it upon waking. I rarely remember my dreams, but this one stays with me, and remains vividly etched in my memory. I wonder if the elixir is somehow affecting me in this way, and whether Karen is experiencing the same phenomena. One thing I knew, the elixir had caused an incredible rejuvenation in our marriage. Karen and I hadn't played together like this, and with such intensity and frequency, for many years.

"You're really going to spoil me if you keep giving me wake-up calls like this."

Karen poked her head out from under the covers, "It's about time. How long have you been awake?"

"Couple of minutes."

She shifted forward, and neat as you please, slid my cock into her already saturated pussy with one smooth motion. As with the other night with the group, and subsequent mornings, Karen's pussy felt snug about my cock. It was an unusual, but pleasant sensation that I still hadn't gotten used to, nor could explain.

She began rocking her hips back and forth, same as Jackie had done the other night, keeping her clitoris always in contact with my body, while using a supple shifting of her hips to create stimulation for the both of us.

"God, I can't get enough of your cock," she murmured with closed eyes, while falling further into a self-induced, sexual trance.

That was a phrase she used a lot over these past few days, and said repeatedly during any number of situations. I particularly liked it when she mumbled it around a mouthful of my cock, but when said while we were fucking, it told me she was nearing climax.

She leaned backwards, clamping her hands onto my knees for support. This new position fully exposed her swollen labia and clitoris to my deft attentions. I started by sliding my thumb up alongside my cock, while placing pressure against her vaginal wall.

She let out a loud moan, then said in a dreamy voice, "That's the spot, baby." She paused for a moment, as if savoring the waves of euphoria like an oenophile may savor a fine wine by rolling it around their tongue. A large, opened-mouth grin erupted on her face, before she chanted that sweet phrase again, "I can't get enough of your cock," with the word 'cock' spoken almost as a high-pitched, gleeful squeal.

She increased the frequency and force of her pelvic gyrations, which pushed my cock and thumb even further into her. When I gently tapped on her clitoris with a finger, it was all over but for the shouting.

She lay on my chest, panting, but she wasn't finished with me yet. Shifting her hips up and forward, she positioned my still hard cock firmly between her buttocks, while gently sliding her ass up and down along my shaft. This was a prelude to another of Karen's recent sexual discoveries, what she lovingly called a 'twofer.' After a quick and intense fucking of her pussy, she wanted a slower, more thoughtful poke in her rear.

As she got her breathing under control, she kissed my chest, and said while accentuating the wiggle of her ass, "I think it's time you put that fat cock up there as well."

"I don't think so," I teased, "I think you should finish what you started, and in the manner you started."

"You guys, and your blowjobs," she said with mock disappointment.

I laughed, "Oh, poor baby, but don't forget what Jackie said about getting a guy to do anything you want after a good blowjob."

She began by using the same technique that Jackie had done at the dinner table, a firm, but gentle application of tongue and lips all about my head and shaft. Never spending too much time in one place, and rarely sucking very hard except along the base of my shaft and scrotum.

"I see you were taking notes after all," I teased.

"A few," she said giggling, "And I've come up with a few tricks on my own."

I felt her pressing a finger on my anus with the clear intent of continuing its journey further into my alimentary canal. The feeling wasn't all together unpleasant, but I wasn't comfortable about it just yet.

Trying to make joke, I said, "This is new, but Dr. Vesper already gave me a prostate exam for the year."

"Not like this."

"How do you know?" I asked, again teasing. "All the same, I'm not sure I want a second one in as many months."

"Please," she said with mild disappointment, "How do you know you won't like it unless you try?"

Then, she gave me the look. The one all men have seen, and all women have wonderfully used to their benefit. It's the look that turns our dicks into rods of steel and our brains into warm gelatin. Karen gave me that look with her mouth pursed seductively about the head of my cock. Then lifting an eyebrow, she curled her lips into a half smirk as she playfully added her tongue to the mix. The look told me everything I needed know about how Eve coaxed Adam into biting the apple. I just closed my eyes in response and let her have her way with me.

She began her new 'trick' with a bit more exuberance then I would have liked.

"Whoa, you've got Vesper's technique down cold, and that's not a good thing. What are you doing, rapping my prostate with a ballpeen hammer?"

"Sorry," she said coyly, "I'm a bit excited."

She softened her manipulation, and the uncomfortable feeling of being prodded with a dull deer antler soon gave way to a more or less neutral, full-bladder feeling.

Karen had stopped the oral manipulation of my cock, and instead concentrated all of her attention in gently massaging my prostate. I was no longer in any discomfort, the full-bladder feeling having dissipated, replaced by an overwhelming sensation of gradually building euphoria. This feeling intensified when Karen, her index finger still within me, started massaging my sensitive perineum.

The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and can only be described as a deep-seated and subtle feeling of euphoria. Not nearly as acute and localized a feeling I get from direct stimulation of my cock, it was more of a pleasurable irritation that was distributed in a more general area around my groin. The feeling never reached an intensity where climax was inevitable, but kept me at a heightened point of arousal somewhere below the tipping point.

Every so often, my cock would twitch. It was an involuntary motor response to Karen's finger manipulations. Still, even those slight muscular contractions around my groin added an additional, yet brief wave of pleasure that made my lower torso squirm with delight.

I tried flexing my cock with greater frequency, hoping the added stimulation would be enough to push me over the edge, but all it did was broaden the pleasurable irritation across the whole area of my groin. It was maddening maintaining a heightened state of arousal without the prospect of ejaculation.

I was nearing wit's end. I attempted to stroke myself, thus ending the torture, but Karen interceded, "I'm going to stop if you touch yourself."

Her words were said gently—almost absentmindedly—but they were enough to stop my hand from reaching further. I didn't want her to stop.

A large drop of clear fluid had formed at my bulbous head. Karen captured it with the tip of her finger. She drew it away from me, forming a thick strand connecting my cock to her finger. It was all so much like my dream that it gave me pause, and sent a small chill up my spine. The eeriness of the scene deepened when she put her now fluid-laden finger to the tip of her tongue, and pulling her finger away, once again formed a clear strand that connected one with the other. When the strand finally snapped, she thoughtfully sucked on her finger.

Throughout this erotic play, her eyes never left mine. It was then, when she sucked the clear fluid off her finger that I noticed her pupils were enlarged. They were not as dilated as they would be in the 'Afterglow,' but it was still noticeable—two, almost seemingly, black voids that stared back at me unblinking. More chills cascaded up my spine. I blinked to clear the vision, but the black, obsidian-like orbs still glinted at me.

'A trick of the low ambient light of the early morning and nothing more,' I told myself. She lowered her eyes briefly, and when she looked at me again, the image was gone. They had returned to normal.

She giggled when she saw another large drop had formed. She pulled her finger out of me, and holding my cock by the base, slathered it about her index and middle finger. She repeated the process each time another drop formed until both fingers were adequately lubricated. Then she pushed both inside me.

The pleasurable irritation intensified. It wasn't enough to bring me to climax, but was enough to set my limbs shaking at irregular intervals. I tried flexing my cock again, but still there wasn't enough stimulation to push me over the pinnacle. Karen knew what she was doing to me, and laughed in an almost melodic, mirthful tone, while she continued to slide her fingers within me, gently. Again, she reengaged her thumb to my perineum.

I began meeting her finger slides with my own pelvic shifting. The euphoria intensified again, and was fully encapsulating all areas of my lower torso. My movements caused my cock to swing wildly, which added even more flavor to the euphoria. However, as before, I still didn't feel any approach of an orgasm, just the slow, constant simmering of pleasure that would never be brought to a boil.

I couldn't believe it, but I caught myself moaning. Usually, I remain fairly silent during lovemaking, and only during ejaculation do I begin to get vocal. However, I needed some type of release, verbal or otherwise to take my mind off Karen's torture, because it was becoming almost too much to bear. Therefore, the moans slipped out, and for a brief spell, it worked.

Karen laughed again, and for only the second time through my ordeal, she spoke in almost hushed tones of amazement, "Oh my god this must be killing you. Try to hold on baby. This is going to feel so good."

I saw the reason for her astonishment when I looked down at my groin. Through her gentle manipulation of fingers and thumb, an almost a constant stream of pre-ejaculate fluid seeped out of me and trickled down along my head and shaft.

"Oh yeah, baby," she almost whispered, as if talking directly to my cock, "Give me more of that juice." With that, she slid her thumb up while pressing firmly along the underside of my shaft, and causing more of the clear fluid to ooze out of me, "Oh, that's so nice."

When Karen had teased enough liquid out to satisfy her, she applied a liberal amount to a finger, and ever so slowly massaged the underside of my shaft just below the head.

Instantly, I could feel a gradual climbing sensation toward climax. The euphoria I once felt subtly yet pervasively across my groin became more acute and centered about my shaft and bulbous head. The climb was slow, glacially slow, agonizingly slow, but at least the sensation was building, and in the right direction.

Each time Karen dragged a finger over the right spot inside and outside of me, the feeling would cause my body to tremble with faint, jerking spasms that were reminiscent of cold shivers. Between the agonizingly slow build-up to orgasm and the irregular quivering of my body, I was beginning to lose any ability to focus my mind. That is, if I hadn't lost those abilities already. Again, on instinct, I felt my hand reaching toward my cock in order to give it more stimulation, quicken the climb and end the agony. Again, Karen said in an almost dispassionate tone, "Touch yourself and I stop."

I think I whimpered at her rebuke, but I couldn't be sure. My mind was fully enveloped in such a state of sexual fog that nothing outside of her fingers was registering anymore.

Karen continued her sadistic tease, and said with a giggle, "If you have to do something then fuck my fingers."

What did she say, 'fucking fingers?' It made no sense.

She misconstrued my noncompliance as unwillingness, and so stopped her finger manipulations. I think I whimpered again.

Her lips were slightly turned up into her trademark 'Mona Lisa' smile, but the harsh tone in her voice belied any amusement, "I said fuck my fingers."

'Oh, fuck my fingers' I thought, 'Jesus, why didn't you say so in the first place you fucking bitch?'

I kept my thoughts to myself and happily complied with renewed shifting of my pelvis.

I started slow. I don't know why. I was just happy my body was still responding to what my mind was commanding, but even the slow shifting of my hips was having a positive effect as I could feel that my climb toward climax was beginning to inch a little faster.

I quickened my pace, and the feeling intensified.

"That's it baby. Fuck my fingers hard."

I quickened my pace even faster, and pushed down on her hand with greater force. Happily, and almost in direct response to my forceful gyrations, I could feel the build-up moving even faster toward climax. It was then that Karen finally took pity on me by massaging the sensitive area were the head and shaft meet with two fingers.

I could feel the build-up surging now. I shifted my pelvis hard only a few more times before I finally reached the point of no return where climax was inevitable. I began to relax and closed my eyes as I felt thick and heavy globs of cum hitting me about the chest and abdomen.

"I know that feels so good, baby," Karen said softly as she continued to stroke me until I finally went soft.

I lay with eyes closed in contented bliss. My cock and prostate still pulsated from the phantom pleasure that still lingered long after Karen removed herself from the bed. I heard the faucet running, and in a few moments felt Karen wiping a warm, wet washcloth across my chest and stomach. She giggled, and said, "You certainly made a mess."

I sighed heavily before correcting her, "I think you made the mess. I was just an innocent bystander and captive." I laughed to myself before asking, "How long have you been thinking of that little technique?"

"Ever since the three of you put me through that delightful agony." She put the rag down and curled up beside me, "I've also been thinking about other things..."

"You're not putting that strap-on up there," I said, laughingly.

"We'll see," she said deviously, "But I've been thinking about that little promise you made, the one about what I might desire, and talking about it first."

"And what would that be?"

"Well, I've been thinking that it would be kind of scrumptious to have another...you know...warm something-or-other pushing up there along with you. I've got a couple of 'fellas' in mind"

I started to chuckle at her roundabout way of telling me she wants another guy's dick for our morning 'twofers.'

"Two? You're ambitious. But I don't know if I want to feel some other guy's 'johnson' sliding up past mine".

Karen started to whine, "Come on, you promised."

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