tagMind ControlIn Control

In Control

byJoe Average©

Blake used to finish his twice-weekly racquetball game at the athletic club and hurry right back home. But today was different. Oh, he'd enjoyed the game all right. It helped him get out some of the agressions that built up during the week in his high-pressure executive job. But he was dawdling. He'd taken a couple of extra showers... combed his hair four or five different ways... what was he avoiding?

He knew.

He didn't want to go home.

Blake used to think that after he and his girlfriend Bonnie moved in together, his life would be complete. But now he wasn't so sure. Bonnie had changed. Maybe it was because now that they lived together, she felt she didn't need to snag her man, but she behaved differently. She talked incessantly about her career. Why did she even need a career? Blake made more than enough money for the both of them. And she made demands — demands that were worded in such a way that Blake didn't feel there was any room for negotiation. She said things like, "If you can't write down your withdrawals in the check register, you're not going to be allowed to have an ATM card." Where it was assumed that what she says, goes. And she'd lost most of her interest in sex.

It wasn't the kind of thing Blake was in a hurry to get back to.

A guy on the other side of the locker room noticed Blake. "What's the matter?" he wanted to know as he packed up his gym bag. "Get on home!"

"Ahhh," Blake muttered. "Don't feel like it."

"Let me guess," ventured the stranger. "Your woman takes you for granted. Talks about her friends, her business..."

"Yeah, that's it!" said Blake, pointing. "How did you know?"

"Seen it a million times," said the man. "You need Doctor Bimbo."

"Doctor Who?"

The stranger pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. "They call him Dr Bimbo. His real name's Dr Barbeau. But he earned that nickname." He offered the name and number to Blake. "He has developed a medicinal treatment that takes today's woman and makes her into a 'fifties caricature of a sex kitten. Right down to the Jayne Mansfield squeal."

"He can make her want to fuck all the time?" asked Blake, suddenly interested. "With me?"

"Morning, noon, and night," chuckled the stranger. "And no more talk about career. Her 'career' will be pleasing you. And she won't even be smart enough for those topics any more."

"Wow!" said Blake, wiping his brow. "Can I call him right now?"

"I'd give him an hour or so," suggested the man. "And let me tell you one more thing. You didn't ask, but I know you'd like to know. The doc calls this a 'side effect'."

"What?" whispered Blake.

"The treatment gives them giant tits," smiled the stranger.

"You mean like — D-cups?" Blake asked.

The stranger smiled. "At least."

"Oh, my God," Blake nearly whooped. He pumped the man's hand furiously. "Thank you. Thank you. You may have saved my life!" Blake ran out of the locker room, leaving the stranger chuckling among the mildew and wet towels. "He'll call," said the stranger, half to himself.

"Honey, I'm home!" Blake called to Bonnie when he entered the house. She was sitting on the couch, going over the mail. Blake looked at her. It's not that she was unattractive. She had light brown hair in a stylish short cut. The jacket of her two-piece business suit covered up what she was lacking in the bustline department, but cleverly featured a daring short skirt that showed off her legs nicely. She was starting to look pretty good to Blake. Then she spoke.

"Glad you're here," said his girlfriend, in a tone of voice that didn't indicate she was glad at all. "I need you to explain some of these charges on your Visa."

Blake beat a hasty retreat. "Not right now," he said, dropping his gym bag in the bedroom. "I have a call to make." He closed the bedroom door behind him.

"Blake, this is important! — " Bonnie's voice dissappeared behind the door. Blake dialed the number. A low, well-modulated voice answered. "Dr Barbeau speaking."

"Is this 'Dr Bimbo'?" asked Blake.

There was a silence. "Yes, it is," said the voice. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I think you know," said Blake.

"Yes, I do," said the doctor. "I will send a car in half an hour. Send a large but unspecified amount of money along with her in a suitcase — in twenties and fifties."

"What?" sputtered Blake.

"Blake, this isn't the sort of thing that's covered by your HMO, you know," said the doctor.

"Well — how much?" asked Blake.

"You know how the cereal boxes say 'sold by weight — not by volume'?" asked the mysterious voice.

"Yes?"

"Go by volume. Fill the suitcase up."

"Right, right," agreed Blake. "Okay, I got it. Her name's Bonnie — "

"For now," said the voice, mysteriously.

" — and the address is..."

"No need," reassured Dr Bimbo. "I've got it."

"Oh, okay. You've got — hey! Wait a minute! How do you have my address? What the hell is going on here?" Blake demanded to know.

There was a suspenseful silence.

"Caller ID, smart guy!" laughed the man with the deep voice. "Don't be so paranoid."

"Oh, geez. Sorry. I must sound like a real moron," said Blake.

"No more or less than most of them," said the doctor, agreeably.

"One thing, doc — how will I convince her to go?" asked Blake. "What will I tell her?"

"You'll think of something," said the doctor. "You may be surprised at her reaction. Talk to you in a few days." And the doctor hung up.

Blake opened the bedroom door. "Honey, you've really been stressed! I'm sending you for a relaxation cure. Pack a bag."

"A what? A relaxation cure? What are you talking about?" asked Bonnie.

"Trust me," said Blake, putting some clothes in an overnight bag for her.

"Relaxtion? Hmm! Sounds nice!" said Bonnie, a little too quickly.

"You're seeing a Dr Barbeau. He's sending a car," said Blake.

"How thoughtful of you, Blake!"

"You'll thank me, dear. Honest you will."

The following day, the phone in Blake's apartment rang. The impossibly low voice strongly urged Blake to send more money. Blake wanted to know why.

"Bonnie is a strong-willed, independent, and intelligent woman," said the doctor. "I can't undo that overnight."

"Okay, I'll send the money. In cash," agreed Blake. "Will you send your car and driver again?"

"Yes, that's just what I'll do," said the doctor. "You'll see Boom Boom in a few days. You'll be pleased."

Blake paused. "Boom Boom?"

"Very pleased," said the doctor as he hung up.

A few days later, Blake was poking about the apartment. He worried a little about the amount of money he was spending on this little whim. He was well off — but the doctor demanded a pretty tidy chunk of change. Oh, well — he'd said again and again how pleased Blake would be when Bonnie returned. Blake tried to focus his thoughts on that.

The doorbell rang. Blake run to answer it. He opened the door to reveal a cock-hardening sight. There stood a girl, teetering precariously on deep red spike heels. She wore a pair of what they used to call hot pants — several sizes too small. They not only revealed the enticing curves of her ass underneath, they also loudly proclaimed the shape and wetness of the girl's pussy. Her midriff was bare. Blake's eyes wandered up toward her chest. She wore a sort of half-t-shirt. It was molded to her bust like a second skin, and the lower hem stopped just below her nipples. But those nipples were so hard, the material extended beyond. Those huge and hard nipples were perfectly in proportion, too — which is to say this girl had two of the most gigantic breasts Blake had ever seen in his life! The shirt was emblazoned with the slogan GOOD AND GOOD FOR YOU — but it was so distorted by the breasts beneath that Blake had to examine it carefully in order to deciper the message. He didn't mind, though. Not one bit! Neither did the girl, it seemed. When she noticed how hard he was looking — and how hard he was getting — she bounced on her heels in pride, sending her firm floppers through space. Blake finally looked at her face. She had fire-engine-red lips and bleached, bleached blonde hair. Finally, she spoke in a girlish squeal.

"Hiya, Blake."

"Oh, my God! It's you!" shouted Blake. "It's Bonnie! Get your tits and ass in here!" he bellowed.

"You'll have to grab them and pull them in," she teased.

Blake did just that, grabbing an enormous boob with his right hand and reaching behind her ass and between her legs with the left. She drew in a breath as she was dragged inside.

Blake slammed the door behind them. "I just came," she confessed, breathlessly. "Just from having me touch you?" asked Blake. She smiled a dim kind of smile and just nodded her head. "My God, it worked!" said Blake.

Bonnie giggled and twirled 'round on her sky-high heels, sending her expanded tits flying. "You like?" she purred.

"What's not to like, Bonnie?" he growled as he reached for the prizes waiting for him on her chest.

"Oh! Only I don't think you should call me Bonnie anymore," she suggested. "It doesn't suit me," she said, crinkling her nose.

"What would you like to be called?" Blake asked between slobbers.

"Well, the doctor named me Boom Boom," said Bonnie with pride and amusement. "But you can use any name you like. Like...Big Titties! Or Chesty... maybe Piece of Ass... or Snatch!"

Blake pulled back and looked her over. He grinned. "I kinda like Boom Boom," he said. "I like the idea of naming you after the ways those tits bounce. Boom...boom...boom..."

Bonnie giggled and began bouncing in rhythm to Blake's chant, going faster and faster. Suddenly, she stopped. Blake whimpered in protest.

"I can't just show," said Boom Boom. "I gotta do. I'm too horny. Take hold of the material of my shirt by grabbing my nipples." Blake did. Boom Boom squealed, almost orgasmically. "Now twist. Yes! Now pull the material up and over my head." When the shirt was off, Boom Boom's magnificent tits bounded into the open air. Blake was amazed and turned on. They were bigger than anything he'd ever seen — at least as big as her head. But they didn't have that fake-looking stiffness that implants had. These H-cuppers looked real. They bounced real. And as Blake reached for them, he found they felt real. Boom Boom opened her mouth at his touch. A glob of her saliva tumbled from her full wet lips, and washed over her big boobs and Blake's busy fingers. "Take off my shorts," whispered Boom Boom. "I know you just want my titties, and I want you to have them. But I want my snatch uncovered so I can drip juices all over the place, freely!" Her frank talk made Blake rock-hard.

"Okay," agreed Blake. "But the first thing those titties are going to do is love my dick to death! Tit-fuck my big pole," he ordered. Boom Boom just "mmmmmm"ed an excited agreement. She gathered her silky soft bombers and surrounded his cock.

Blake watched. Bonnie used to make wisecracks about the comparably modest size of Blake's equipment. Would she now — after Dr Bimbo's 'treatment'?

"I love it!" giggled Boom Boom. "It fits perfectly." Then she slid her mouth, lips, and teeth over it to demonstrate her point. "You see?" She eased Blake back onto the couch, with his feet dangling over the edge. She rubbed her boobs up and down, up and down — giving him a fantastic tit-fuck in which she did all the work.

Which was as it should be, Blake thought! That's how a big-titter is supposed to take care of her man.

As he prepared to send the first of several loads over his newly refurbished girlfriend's tits and face, he silently thanked Dr Barbeau — this "Dr Bimbo" had saved his relationship.

The next morning, Blake left for work, leaving Boom Boom in the bedroom frantically playing with herself. "Make lots of loads of cum for me while you're gone!" she called. "I want it all when you get home. I'll be waiting."

Around lunchtime, Blake's administrative assistant told him there was someone here to see him. "Is it Bonnie?" Blake asked over the intercom. "I — I don't think so," said the assistant as the door to his private office flew open.

Boom Boom's bountiful breasts entered — followed by Boom Boom. She giggled as she worked to wobble them wildly as she walked. Blake gasped. She was dressed in a string bikini top that barely covered her tent-pole-like nipples, and left rich plump handfuls of tit above, below, to the left, and to the right, on lascivious display. She wore what looked like a skirt, but on closer examination, Blake realized that she'd pulled a tight fitting tube top over her hips. She glided into the room on six-inch fuck-me pumps like she was born wearing them.

"Take Boom Boom to lunch?" she tittered.

"Yeah, but not until you suck my cock," Blake blustered. "Close the door, willya?"

"Oh, no!" laughed Boom Boom. "It'd do that titless secretary of yours some good to see how a real woman takes care of her man. Let me at it!"

Blake uncovered his package. "It's just such a perfect fit!" shrieked Boom Boom as she opened wide.

Blake loved the way every man — and every woman, too — stared at his Boom Boom when they went out to lunch. Yep, he thought to himself. And all that's mine! When they sat down at the restaurant, Boom Boom's big ones covered her place setting and her menu — and nearly knocked over her water glass! She giggled.

"Baby, you'd better sit to the side," said Blake in a soothing tone. "Your breasts are in the way!"

Boom Boom narrowed her eyelids. "My what?"

"Your breasts, sweetheart." Blake saw that she didn't understand. "Move your tits."

"Oh!" she said, with an exuberant bounce. "Okey-dokey. And don't say 'sweetheart', please. Too mushy."

"Yeah?" said Blake with a sparkle in his eye. "What would you prefer?"

"I think 'fuck-toy' would be good," said Boom Boom, moving her tits out of the way and picking up her menu. "Can you smell my pussy?" she asked. "I'm soaking this skirt."

Blake stiffened at her announcement. "Not yet," he whispered. "What do you want to eat?"

"You know what I want to eat," she answered, licking her lips. "But what do you want to order?" asked Blake. "I can't tell," Boom Boom said, throwing the menu aside. "I don't know what this says."

Blake looked at her in astonishment. "You mean you can't read?"

"I — I guess not," said Boom Boom. "You know best, anyway! Tell the girl with the tiny tits what to bring, okay?"

"You mean the waitress? Okay," Blake agreed. This treatment was something, he thought.

"Say, Blake, is that you?" An old business acquaintance was approaching their table. "Yes! Hey, Ted, how have you been?" Blake greeted his friend. "Fine, fine," said Ted, turning his attention to Boom Boom and her bust. "And who is this lovely creature?"

"I'm Boom Boom!" she giggled, looking Ted in the eye and fingering her nipples. "So why do they call you that?" asked Ted. "Oh! Because of the way my tits bounce. Wanna see?"

"Boom Boom, maybe another time," Blake broke in. "Good to see you again, Ted." Then a thought occurred to Blake. "Ted! Why don't you come over tonight? For some cards! I'll ask a bunch of the guys."

Ted stole another glance over at Boom Boom, who was practicing bouncing her tits, despite her boyfriend's initial discouragement. "I'd like that," he said, readily. "I'll be over at eight." He melted back into the lunchtime crowd.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Blake asked his girlfriend. He smiled wickedly. "When the guys come over why don't you —?"

"Wear tiny cut-offs, half-open, and the world's tightest t-shirt and serve beers and snacks?" whooped Boom Boom.

"For starters," said Blake.

"And let them all touch, then strip, and crawl under the card table and suck everyone off?" giggled the blonde.

"Now you're thinking the way I want you to," smiled Blake.

"Oh, goody!" Boom Boom nearly shouted. Blake's smile just got wider. This was turning out even better than he'd hoped.

Ted showed up that night. So did Jack and Richie, two more business acquaintances of Blake's. "Since when do we play cards?" asked Richie as Blake seated his friends around the table. "Ah, cards is just the excuse," laughed Blake, playing the hearty host. "I just wanted to get together!"

"Okay by me," agreed Jack. "Me, too," said Ted, the only one of them with a hint as to what was coming.

There was an awkward silence. "So — where's the cards?" Richie wanted to know. Blake's eyes were averted toward the kitchen door.

Boom Boom swept in, a vision in red spike heels. She wore a pair of unfastened denim cut-offs that probably came from the junior misses' department, they fit so tightly over her fine and curvy ass. She carried a tray of snacks in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other, holding them high over her head so as not to block anyone's vision of the main attraction... Boom Boom's tremendous tits. These tits bounced mightily with every step, their protruding nipples twirling patterns in the air as the wobbled and bobbled. "Hello, boys," she purred, bending way over to place the snacks and beers on the table, offering an unobstructed view of her undulating breast-tops through her tight, low-cut t-shirt. She walked sensuously around the table, allowing her clearly aroused nipples to nip at each of the boys' necks as they sat. She pushed her pontoons through on the other side of the table and pulled one of the beer bottles from the six-pack, lewdly licking its long neck. The men stood transfixed as she shook it and twisted the cap, aiming at her big titties. When the bottle ejaculated a spritz of beer, it soaked her shirt, making the fabric seem to disappear — as if the gaze of the four men hadn't already done that!

"Help yourself," she cooed, as the men lept forward, reaching for her chest with their fingers, tongues, and hard-ons.

Blake sat back and orchestrated the proceedings — it turned him on like a house on fire to see his girl inspiring such raging horniness among his friends.

"Richie and Jack — one on each nipple. Suck her senseless," he said with quiet authority. The men obeyed as Boom Boom cried with exaggerated sexual relief at the touch of their tongues on her tits. "Ted...what do you want to fuck — her tits or her face?"

"Her tits," said Ted without hesitation.

"You heard the man, Boom Boom," said Blake. "Call the other two off for a minute. Ted, lie on the couch. She'll rub a dub dub her tits around your cock and you won't have to move a muscle. Richie and Jack, you can jerk off on her face as she works."

The participants got into place. Boom Boom's smiling and lauging attitude toward the group scene turned them all on. Especially Blake. Blake noticed that all three men had cocks much larger than his own. Would Boom Boom end up preferring them? He was a little worried.

With guttural moans, Ted, Jack, and Richie all unloaded their respective loads onto Boom Boom. Ted's come soaked her knockers and dripped down onto her creamy thighs. A fresh load each from Jack and Richie slid down Boom Boom's gorgeously slutty face and globbed onto the shelf she called her tits.

"Okay, guys — get back into your seats at the card table!" said Blake. "Boom Boom — crawl underneath and suck off each one of us in turn."

She nodded, her face a mass of sticky goo. "I'll suck off every man from here to Timbuktu!" she cried. The men chuckled appreciatively and gave her a round of applause. Blake stopped them. "I'm complimented by your reaction to my woman. But she's only doing what's expected of her! The applause is unnecessary."

The men thanked Blake heartily when they finally took their leave in the wee hours of the morning. Blake shook all their hands and let each of them have one more feel of Boom Boom — whatever part they cared for — to send them on their way. Not coincidentally, Blake knew that he'd cemented three very profitable business relationships forever. He'd have to remember that — Boom Boom could come in very handy, professionally. He led Boom Boom to bed by grabbing her protruding scum-soaked nipples and pulling her into the room.

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