Roommate Surprise

"The drug affects certain parts of the brain more than others. Some parts seem unaffected all together. My memories remain intact. I know all my friends, my family, my favorite movies, and all those sorts of things. I remember how to play the flute. I know all about how to do my job. I can learn new stuff as normal. But the things I want and like have all been remapped. The drug seems to have taken control of the pleasure processing centers of my brain. That and the pain processing parts. Whatever I experienced under the drug became permanently fixed in my association with pleasure. And because Mike fucked me while I was under the influence, somehow my entire concept of femininity is now permanently tied to his masculinity in all human dimensions. My entire definition of what it means to be a woman is inextricably woven around Michael. I want him. I need him. I love him. I am obedient to him, down to the smallest detail. It's so permanent, so pervasive, that it seems more appropriate to call it 'programming' rather than something like 'conditioning' or 'training'. Intellectually, I know it is all artificial. But that doesn't make it any less real. And I am so happy; I don't care if it is artificial."

"For the Wahki women, the wedding drug turns them into faithful and dedicated wives. All their desires and all their decisions revolve around being the best wives and mothers they can be. And since the drug was in their system on their wedding night, their whole concept of happiness, fulfillment, and self-image became fixated on their new husbands. A married Wahki woman wants nothing more than to support her husband in all matters, to bear him as many children as she can, and to tend to her husband's every wish and desire. These women live like that well into old age. The effects of the drug do appear to be permanent and irreversible. For all appearances, they seem to be blissfully happy and totally content for the rest of their lives. So happy, they readily send their daughters off to live a life of marital enslavement, the same as they have lived."

"Mike's first slave was Helen. You met her the other night when they came over to fuck. You've probably seen her at the gym, too. She and Mike have been sweethearts since high school. They got engaged after his first tour. They married after his second tour. He wanted a wife like the Wahki women, so he drugged her on their wedding night. She is like the world's perfect wife. She adores her husband. She provides him with the 'romantic' love some men seem to need. They have four healthy kids and a nice home in the 'burbs. Their marital relations are fairly normal, except she likes to fuck all the time, way more than your average housewife. And she doesn't seem to mind that he regularly fucks his other wives."

"Mike keeps four other sex slaves outside his marriage, including me. He trained us to be not only his wives but also his sex slaves on our Wahki wedding night. So that is how we think of ourselves. When you meet my slave sisters, you should recognize them as fellow health club members. He uses us to fulfill fantasies he doesn't want his first wife directly involved in. At least not directly in the home with his kids around. Mike has programmed the rest of us to be independently living sex toys that he can call on at any time he likes. We all live separately. We each keep our place furnished to support his fantasies. Each of us has been programmed to entertain him in different ways. The one he chooses to fuck on any particular night depends on what fetish he fancies. He might not even choose until he is in the car. He keeps a key to each of our places and never calls first. He just shows up, and we fuck."

"Johanna was Mike's second experience using the drug on a woman. He captured her with the full knowledge and participation of his first wife, Helen. Johanna works at a bank and has her own high-rise condo. When Mike goes to her place, she pretends to be a runaway teenage prostitute. They fuck like sex is a transaction. I think maybe Helen had some influence on that relationship flavor: she is the wife, and Johanna is the whore. After they fuck, he gives her a few dollars to help her imagine it's real. In her mind, she is convinced that when Mike shows up at her door, she is a cheap whore. Her only other customer is Randy, and he always pays a token amount for the service."

"I am Michael's second extramarital piece of ass. As you now know, I am his bondage slave. I am also Helen's programmed bondage slave. She comes by sometimes without Mike and fucks me on this bed. I don't think she's come alone since you've lived here. She is your basic busy soccer mom and rarely finds time for me."

"Erin is his third concubine. She is a stage actress and fashion model who is trying to get into the movie business. She has acted in a few movies, with some small parts here and there. She used to do some stripping at high-end clubs. That's actually where Mike met her. Erin is stunningly beautiful. I have to admit that I am envious of her super-hot looks. Michael used the drug to turn her into a raging nymphomaniac. She is endlessly and insatiably horny for Michael. When they are together, she fucks him like a rabid weasel. When he's not around, I'm pretty sure she just masturbates and watches homemade porn all night. It's all videos of Mike fucking one of the five of us, never anybody else. Never any commercial porn." Connie looked over her shoulder at the video camera, its little red light blinking. "Now she gets to watch a video of me fucking you!"

"Jackie is his fourth outside fuck, Mike's fifth wife. I'm sure you'll recognize her from the club. She owns the franchise. She is that tall, broad-shouldered gal with jet-black skin. She has these big breasts and ass, powerful legs and arms, and abs that look like cannon balls would bounce off. She is beautiful, in a typical African way, with facial features like large, full lips, high, prominent cheekbones, a broad, flat nose, and bright white teeth. Mike has programmed her to be his southern plantation sex slave. Whenever she is apart from Mike, she sees herself as a successful and independent businesswoman, a model for others. But whenever Mike shows up at her place, she regresses to mere property; her only value is the pleasure she can give to her 'master'. She lives with the knowledge that, at any time, she could be sold to another master who might not be as merciful as Mike. Don't worry. I guarantee you that Jackie is as happy as the rest of us, including Helen. Mike has no intention of'selling' her because she's a truly awesome fuck. I can tell you that from personal experience."

"At the gym, only Helen is allowed to show affection. In public, we slave sisters must act like we are normal friends, not sex partners. It might seem weird, but since I am programmed that way, it is completely natural to act like a platonic friend at the club."

"So, Marsha, I've been talking too long. I'm going to let you ask a couple of questions. And I think I'll play with you a bit more here."

Marsha tried out speaking with the strange mechanical gag in her mouth: "Ahnt oo ahrade? Ah shad?"

Connie stood by the bed. She had picked up the oversized strapon dildo and was stepping into the harness. She wrinkled her brow, trying to interpret the words. Luckily, she had spent considerable time wearing that very gag and knew what most words sounded like: "Am I afraid or sad?"

Marsha nodded almost imperceptibly. The strap at the back of her head held her nearly immobile.

Connie loosely buckled the wide waist strap, then reached between her thighs to draw the dildo forward. It had a wide shield in front that held the big dildo pointing out and up. She pulled it up and wove the buckles together, chinching it tight. She wiggled her hips to make sure they were secure. "Sad or afraid? No. I suppose I should be, but that is the magic of the Wahki wedding potion. I love my life, and I love my owner with all my heart. I wouldn't change a thing, even if I could."

Marsha mumbled, "Wa ih ah ung wah ik?"

Connie wrestled with the interpretation, "Um, what if you don't want it?" She squirted a large glob of sex lube on the dildo and spread it around in a male masturbation motion. "Honey, it doesn't matter what you want any more." She flipped the main switch on the bed. As Marsha's legs pulled up and wide, Connie crawled onto the bed. "Like right now, you may not want to get dildo fucked, but it's going to happen anyway. I've been ordered to do this for the next couple of hours. And I am wired to follow orders."

Marsha struggled against her bonds again, even though she knew it was no use. Perhaps she thought struggling would communicate her disagreement with what Connie just said. The sturdy ropes relentlessly pulled her back into that vulnerable position. Wearing the stocks, her arms were not splayed out as far as earlier. But with the strap holding her head down, her upper body was still immobilized. She pleaded, "Uah, ah ah, shunga, gah gak!"

"Honey, I have no idea what you just said. Do remember, for the next couple of hours, I am just following orders." Connie crawled on top of Marsha and placed the tip of the dildo between Marsha's lower lips. She gave a firm, steady push, and the entire plastic thing slid on in. She kept her weight on her knees and her hands on Marsha's tits. She wiggled her hips to be sure the tool was all the way in. Connie rolled her eyes up and said, "Oh god, this is fun. You know, usually it's me on the bed and Hellen on top like this. I haven't dildo fucked another woman since college. Now I know why Hellen likes it. You see, this harness has a whole series of silicone fingers lining the inside of the crotch section for both padding and stimulation. Every time I hump, those fingers squish against my cunt and my asshole."

Marsha was reduced to a series of, "Ah, ah, ah, ah,..." once with each rolling hump of Connie's hips.

Connie used a humping motion that never drew the fake cock out of Marsha. She paused for a moment, holding firmly forward, rolling her hips gently side to side, and enjoying the rhythmic massage of the silicone fingers. "Now I know that guys like to fuck by pulling all the way out and shoving back in." She demonstrated with one full stroke out and back in. "It stimulates their entire cock the way nature intended. But I can't feel anything from that. It's just made of plastic. I can kind of imagine what it's like to have a cock, but I know it's not real. So I'll just keep it shoved in and hump. More fun for me."

Marsha continued to gurgle incoherently. The plastic cock had looked impossibly large when she had played with it earlier in the day. And it did feel really big inside her. But it is not really painfully big. Just, large. Long, too. Certainly deeper than any man had ever been. But Connie wasn't pistoning like a man would, so it didn't necessarily hurt. It certainly wasn't the pain she had expected. In fact, she started to sense excitement between her legs. She realized she was actually humping back, within the limits her bondage allowed. If this went on long enough, she thought she might actually orgasm.

Instead, Connie got there first. She tensed up and quivered on top of Marsha, having humped for only a few minutes. She rested for a moment, then pulled the dildo out and rolled over onto the bed. She rested for a moment and said, "Ya, that's what the guys do. They fuck you until they come. Then they pull out and leave you unsatisfied. Helen does that to me, too. You'll be happy to know that Randy programs his sluts to always orgasm at the same time as he does. What a guy!"

Connie rolled off the bed and rested a bit. She traded up the butt plug again. This one was about the size of an average cock. This and the next few were made of a rubbery gel rather than stiff plastic. They conformed better to the curves of Marsha's rectal passage, feeling much like a large turd Marsha couldn't expel. She lowered Marsha's legs and left the room. Marsha lay there, relaxed, for a while. She expected the larger butt plugs to be painful. But since they were being introduced in progression, they merely presented an uncomfortable feeling. She stopped looking around the room and just stared at her freshly shaven cunt in the ceiling mirror and lost track of time.

At some point, Connie showed up. She reeled Marsha's legs up, fucked her until only Connie orgasmed, then left as the bed rolled Marsha's legs back down. This repeated for a while. Marsha started to expect the treatment, like her personhood really didn't matter. What was important was her cunt.

The machine spread her legs. Connie fucked her. The machine closed her legs. Stare at her shaved mons and wait.

The machine spread her legs. Connie fucked her. The machine closed her legs. Stare at her shaved mons and wait.

The machine spread her legs. Connie fucked her. The machine closed her legs. Stare at her shaved mons and wait.

Five times, six times. Marsha lost count somewhere in the neighborhood of ten or twelve, well over an hour into the process. She never attained an orgasm and stayed at a heightened level of excitement. Two times, the butt trainer was switched up again. Longer and fatter each time, leaving her even fuller. The pattern continued. Marsha's mind slipped into a lucid dream state where being dildo raped seemed practically normal. Despite how big the strapon was, Connie was always gentle enough that Marsha never felt injured.

Marsha became aware of Connie talking to Mike on the phone. Connie was at the far end of the townhome and couldn't hear what was said. Finally, Connie came in and spoke to Marsha: "He has to work late tonight. Mike, Randy, and their crew are working security for a concert at the Mayflower. Big-name band, great pay. It'll be at least midnight before he even gets to leave. I've got you cleaned up and well fucked, so now I'll get to my favorite part of this bed. I'll describe my own experiences with the Wahki wedding drug and maybe what you should expect when Randy gives you your dose."

Connie gathered a pair of wrist cuffs from a drawer and tightened one around her left wrist. The smile of contentment went clear up to her eyes. "I cannot describe how my slave sisters were programmed. I wasn't there. I can only tell you how they operate now. I will tell you how it went for me. Mike asked me out for coffee at the club one day. I knew he was married to Helen. But he was so hot, so handsome, and so confident that I couldn't say no. It was just coffee, anyway. So we left the club for the local cafe. He was charming. He brought me my coffee, a sweet latte. It tasted quite strong. I just thought it had an extra shot or something. I now know he spiked my coffee with the wedding drug. I never felt odd or unbalanced. I never lost consciousness. I didn't feel sick or nauseous. I remember everything. We talked about normal stuff--the gym, my work, what car I drove--that sort of thing. I laughed at his jokes and kept up a normal conversation."

Connie buckled on the other wrist cuff. "However, he must have known what to expect. Or how long to wait? Suddenly, out of the blue, he asked me, 'Do you shave your cunt?' Just like that--in those words, rude and crude. I answered him, 'No.' like it was a completely normal thing to be asked. I should have been insulted or grossed out. I should have walked out that minute, but no. He grinned at me for a moment and said, 'Oh, you do now, honey.' Then he asked another prying personal question: 'Do you masturbate with a dildo?' Again, without hesitation, neither proud nor afraid, I said, 'Yes, a couple of times a month. I have three of them.' He knew that, at that point, I was under the influence of the flower drug. He said, 'OK, you're ready. Let's go over to your place and fuck.' And so we did."

Her voice trailed off for a moment, like she had lost her train of thought. Connie murmured softly, speaking to no one in particular, "Fuck." Connie hoisted Marsha's legs again and slipped inside her, humping and talking at the same time. "I now understand one of the important aspects of the Wahki wedding drug. It had temporarily erased my sense of self-will. Any thoughts of fear or self-preservation failed to materialize. Same with any idea that maybe I shouldn't do what was about to happen. My mind was opened up like a can of beans. I wasn't in a trance, like they show hypnotized people on TV. I wasn't a zombie. I was just completely unable to make any decisions or rational thoughts for myself. I was fully conscious and aware. I answered his questions thoughtfully. I laughed appropriately. I could see and feel everything. In fact, I felt really good. You know, happy and secure."

"Somehow the Wahki wedding drug wraps itself around the pleasure and emotional areas of the nervous system. All those parts of my mind were firing on all cylinders and continued that way today. And not just my mind. All my pleasure and sensual nerves all across my body are now supercharged: my skin, my nose, my taste buds, and my ears. My eyes, too. Whenever I see Mike, I get immediately horny. When he touches me, I squirm uncontrollably. Every time he fucks me, the pleasure is rapturous, and the orgasms rock me to my very soul. Then anything related to pain or negativity becomes suppressed. I still feel pain. It's just not that acute. I am in control of my pain now. My life is all good. Negative things are easy to ignore. All the positive, happy, pleasurable things are, uh, uh, uh, aw f-fuck!"

Connie came again, before Marsha. After recovering from that orgasm, she left the strapon buried in her captive, her pelvis pressed forward, her humping more of a gentle undulation. "Mike led me to his car instead of my own. He said I shouldn't be driving just then. So I volunteered directions on how to get to my place. While he drove, he told me lots of things about myself. All the stuff he said, it was like, I already knew that, of course. All he had to do was say it, and it was already part of my self-image, something I'd known for years. Like how beautiful I was. How smart I was! I loved to work out in super-sexy clothes. How I shower and shave after every workout. How my shaving in the women's common shower is a casual, public affair."

Connie's humping had been gaining urgency. She tensed up and orgasmed, quivering for a moment. After calming a bit, "He told me how I never towel off; instead, I prance around the locker room, telling dirty jokes, until I am air dried. How showing my naked body off for the other women makes me both horny and happy. He told me that I needed to be fucked multiple times a day, and if I don't get fucked enough, I just have to masturbate. As soon as he said something, it was true. I uh uh." Her voice trailed off, and her humping became frantic for a moment. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and came again. She rested silently for a bit, still pressing forward into Marsha. She breathed deep, trying to regain her composure. Her orgasms were getting quicker and stronger.

Connie pulled out and crawled to the center of the bed. She leaned in and planted a kiss on Marsha's clitoral area. Holding her face in that position, she reached out toward Marsha's feet, which were pinned high and wide. She couldn't reach Marsha's ankles, but she made note of how far up Marsha's lifted legs her hands could reach. She took a moment to upsize the dildo trainer in Marsha's ass.

Connie winched Marsha's legs back down. "When we got to my place, he grabbed this duffel bag from the back of his car. As soon as we were inside my place, he ordered me to take my clothes off, which seemed like the obvious thing to do. After that, everything he told me to do came out like a direct order. I followed every instruction to the letter. Mike seemed so confident, and I felt completely subservient.... Damn, this is making me horny!" Connie had a grip on the root of the dildo, rubbing the base against her mons and clitoris. "Fuck it! There's plenty of time."