The Gizmo

Paul sat quietly nursing his drink. "I wish Linda had that little problem." Paul's eyes met mine and I could see the pain they projected. "Linda and I...uh, we haven't been together for a while. We don't sleep together anymore." Paul shrugged and then tipped his head back and downed the remainder of his drink. "All right, let's hear the whole sales pitch."

"I found out by accident that I could suggest things to Vicky and she would, without hesitation, do what I asked. I formed a quick hypothesis that if what I suggested was already an idea planted in her mind, my suggestions could be more liberal. Since our wives were talking about how they'd thought about satisfying another woman, and this conversation came up several times in the past, then those ideas were already there. Even though it may have been just for our benefit, the seeds were planted so to speak, and all I needed to do was add some water and let them sprout. I haven't run enough tests, but the gizmo seems to work only on women."

I took another sip of my drink. "I also found I can insert a thought into Vicky's mind—giving her a memory if you will—that continues on after I turn the gizmo off. But—"

"But what?" Paul interrupted.

"If a memory is already in place, I can't erase it. I can only prevent new memories from being formed."

I felt my face turn sugar beet red. "I had a rough day last week, and I wanted a bit of a sexual release—a hooter. Vicky wasn't in the mood. I turned on the gizmo, got my blow job, and when I turn my machine off, she instantly forgot she blew me ten minutes earlier."

I smiled deeply at Paul. "I've been fucking her brains out every other night and other than complaining about being tired the next day, she doesn't remember a thing—unless of course I tell her. I found out that I have to be careful as well. I suggested to her that we should have anal sex—"

Paul grabbed my arm. "You fucked Vicky in the ass?"

"Yeah, but it cause unbelievable problems. We did it and when I turned the machine off, she was sore back there. I couldn't explain it away. Christ, can you imagine what would have happened if she went to the doctor's office, and he told her she had anal sex, and then she couldn't remember a single second of it happening to her?"

Paul smiled ear-to-ear. "I'll be damned. Miss 'I'm too good, nose-in-the-air', got a cock up her ass." Paul shook his head then pushed his empty glass in front of me. I quickly refilled it. "Damn, I can't believe you fucked Vicky in the ass. I'd sure like to fuck that ass. She's always so stuck up with herself."

"That's why tonight, neither one of us can have sex with our wives—"

Paul tilted his head to one side. "Whatdoyamean?"

"Think about it. One minute they're sitting on that sofa across from us, and then with I turn the machine off, they'll have cum dripping out of their pussies. Tell me Paul, how would you explain that to Linda?"

Paul ran his finger along the rim of the glass. "You know sometimes, Stu, your logic can be most irritating."

"They're not hypnotized or in a trance. Both girls will interact with us as though nothing has changed. They'll have conversations and ask questions. They'll interact with us like normal. The operation of the gizmo is completely transparent. Absolutely ignorant of lost of cognitive control of their feelings, wants, and desires. They're completely unaware of what I've suggested they do." I raised my glass in the air. "To the gizmo!"

"That's amazing—amazing bullshit! You almost had me there old friend for a few minutes—almost!"

We heard the sound of our wives talking at the top of the stairs. When Vicky and Linda turned the corner and entered the den, Paul damn near fainted. Linda wore a short white slip that fell to the middle of her thighs. They carried their shoes by their straps, and then both nonchalantly sat on the sofa. They slipped their heels on and fastened the straps that wound around their ankles. They sat there as though nothing was wrong. Absolutely and totally oblivious they were sitting in front of us dressed exactly the way I told them to. Vicky looked so office-like in her charcoal pencil skirt. The barely black hose she wore make her skirt seem shorter than it was.

Linda, who sat beside her, appeared like she was about to finish dressing but decided to forego her clothing. Linda's black hair fell down across her chest covering her breasts, held in restraint by a small nylon half-cup bra. We could see Linda's nipples about to overtop the thin almost translucent material.

"What in the name of God?" Paul said in utter amazement.

"I told you," I began, "but you wouldn't listen. Now, what do you want them to do?"

"Anything I want?"

"Within reason." I looked at Paul with the sternest look. "Remember what I said. Neither one of us can have sex with them. Not this time."

Paul's eyes were transfixed. "Damn, what a shame. Will you look at Linda? God's she so hot." Paul turned quickly toward me. "Are you sure we can't?"

"Absolutely, not this time." I grabbed Paul's arm. "Trust me right now. Anything but sex with them."

I decided to get things moving so I looked over at Linda then back at my friend. Instantly, I hit a roadblock. Sitting not more than three meters in front of me is my best friend's wife half dressed and my wife in her office attire. What do you do? My mind ran though scenario after scenario and couldn't come up with something that would be explainable later on. Then like a ton of computer chips falling on me, I had an idea.

Linda kept teasing Paul about how she'd like to eat my wife's pussy, and Paul wanting to see Linda undress Vicky. I had to admit, I was having second thoughts of exposing my wife's body to his eyes, especially after I caught him playing touchy feely with Vicky's knee earlier.

"Let's get this show on the road," he said. I watched as a nervous tick pulled at the corner of his mouth.

I held my breath for a second then looked at Linda. "Linda, would you stand?"

She did.

"Show Paul what's under your slip." She reached down and held the slip to her waist.

"Jesus! She's wearing a fuckin' garter belt—with fuckin' stockings! Are they drugged?"

"I told you, they're under the influence of my apparatus in the other room. As long as it's running, they'll do about anything I ask. Watch this," I said calmly.

"Vicky, would you walk back and forth in front of Paul and I?"

Vicky smiled then stood and walked to the end of the narrow den and proceeded to walk its length. A symphony in motion, we watched as Vicky made several trips back and forth. The pencil skirt kept her stride short. There's something about watching an attractive woman in high heels walk about. It was quiet in the room, and with every step she made, the nylon on her legs made a swishing sound. I noticed the look on his face.

When Vicky reached our end of the den, I stopped her. All pencil skirts have either a slit up the side or one down the back. Otherwise, you'd play hell walking while wearing one. Vicky's skirt was no exception—the slit was up the back.

"Honey, turn around and open the skirt's slit?"

She stopped, reached down and moved the right side of her skirt up, exposing most of the back of her right thigh. We could see a bit of her ass cheeks under her pantyhose.

She followed my instructions to the letter. I had her lift the left side, then both at the same time. I glanced over at Paul. He had his hand running over the bulge on the front of his pants. I went for broke.

"Honey, roll your skirt up until it's mid-thigh."

I heard a zipper coming down. Paul had his cock out, and his fingers clasped 'round its length. He was about to jack himself off as he looked at my wife. I felt both proud and disgusted at the same time.

We heard a noise. Linda came over. With her inhibitions being held back by the gizmo, her innermost feelings surfaced.

"That's it. Jack off while you look at another woman. You wonder why we don't have sex anymore? Do you think it's because of shit like this? Why don't I get prettied up for you? Why don't I? I'll tell you why. You're always after another new piece of ass."

"Baby, that's not true!"

"Oh no?" She looked at his dick hanging out of his pants. "Who's the hard cock for?"

"Linda," I interrupted, trying to regain control of my experiment. "It's not a contest." I pointed my finger at Vicky and motioned her to come over. She did.

I looked at the two of them standing side-by-side. "Vicky, take Linda's bra off."

She did so without hesitation. Linda didn't move a muscle. "Put it on the bar."

Linda has a fine set of boobs. Not large, not small, about right. More than a handful, her nipples hardened and stood erect like new pencil erasers.

We've seen our wives in skimpy bathing suits before, and I know it was wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I stood only a meter away from Linda: I reached out and palmed her breasts. They were warm, smooth, and belonged to my best friend's wife.

His eyes stabbed at me for a second, then his glare returned to Linda.

"Lift your slip to your tits," Paul said.

Linda's fingers gathered the hem of the slip and pulled it up. A matching white bikini panty barely covered her pussy. The hooks and straps held up the barely white stockings.

Paul wet his lips while his eyes were glued at his wife's body. Only the two of them knew how long it's been since he's seen her this way.

"Now Linda, spread your legs a bit," I asked. Linda's heels scuffed across the carpet.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Christ! Look at that!" Paul almost fainted when he noticed Linda's panties didn't begin to cover all her short black hairs. They stuck out from the white triangle of her panties in short, tight black curls.

"Did you see that?"

"Yes, Paul, I'm right here. But that's nothing. Watch this." I had something special for Paul to see, and I also wanted to know if it's going to work on Linda, too.

"I found out, by accident actually, that I could plant a stimulus in Vicky's neural pathway as though it had a physical beginning."

"Skip the techno-babble. What the hell are you talking about?" Paul asked. His eyes never left his wife's crotch.

"I guess a demo would be better than trying to explain it." I looked at Vicky standing beside Linda. "Come here, honey." She came over and stood between Paul and me. I looked at Paul. "Roll your skirt up to your waist." Her fingers reached down and rolled the hem up until it was as high as it could be.

"Like this?"

"Perfect, babe. Perfect." The pantyhose she wore were absolutely sheer. There wasn't even the normal cotton gusset in the crotch. Only the tinniest hint of a seam that ran down her crotch and back up between her ass cheeks. A small pair of lace black panties covered her pussy.

"Now, watch her crotch." I pointed my finger at Vicky's pussy.

"Vicky, honey, you're getting wet. Oh so wet. All you can think about is how wet you're getting. You can't stop it. It's a flood. Wet, Vicky. You're wet beyond anything you've ever known. Your juice is pouring out of you. You want to feel your hot wet juice drip out of your pussy. Make your pussy wet for Paul. Make your pussy wet for me."

"Oh! Oh! OH!" Vicky moaned as she brought her knees together. Vicky's freed a hand and rubbed her breasts through her shirt. Paul watched as her nipples stiffen and pushed into her shirt.

Paul sat in wonderment as he watched the front of Vicky's panties turn almost translucent then drops of her moisture gathered between her legs. Soon, her panties were sodden with her wetness. Paul's mouth gaped. Her pantyhose quickly became soaked, and long thin filaments of sweet clear liquid oozed through her hose and dribbled onto the carpet. Paul watched so intensely he slipped off the stool and almost fell onto the floor.

I smiled at Paul. "Why have one when you can have two? Linda, why don't you stand and let us take a look."

"God, Linda, you're beautiful," Paul said.

Linda stood in front of us. The half-slip she wore stopped just short of mid-thigh. Her breasts were bare and they stood out from her body. Linda's white heels seemed so fragile any slight movement would be their undoing.

Taking a clue from me, Paul lowered his voice. "Linda, pull your slip to your tits. Now you're getting wet. Oh so wet. You can't contain it. Your panties can't hold it back. You're dripping. Oh so wet."

"Ooh! Oh, God!" Her hands gripped the bar. Her panties also turned translucent as her juice filled her crotch. Small drops converged into a flood that soon had her panties saturated. Dozens of crystal drops leaked though and fell to the floor.

Paul took a few steps back and watched in stunned amazement as his wife's panties filled with her juice. "We're going to be fuckin' kazill-billionaires! I'm going to buy Saudi fuckin' Arabia!"

"Now wait a second, Paul, these are only experiments. I'm navigating uncharted territory here."

Paul and I discussed various aspects of the gizmo with him claiming I didn't know what I had, and me trying to tell him that this was bigger than he thought. We didn't pay attention to the wives, and they moved away from the bar.

A few minutes later, Paul tapped my shoulder. I looked over at the girls.

Vicky stood in the middle of the den, the hem of her pencil skirt back down to her knees. Linda made a slow winding circle around her. She wore the white heels, the ivory stocking, but was bare on the top. She took her slip off. Linda's black hair, those stockings and garter belt, and except for a riding crop, she could pass for a Dominatrix, ready to invoke punishment to her submissive.

Linda completed a third circle around Vicky like a cougar stalking her pray, and as she did, Linda's fingers moved across Vicky's breasts. She toyed with them gently through her shirt. Vicky's eyes were still closed and swayed in her heels. A soft coo...slipped out between long slow breaths.

Linda continued making small circles around Vicky. And with each pass, Linda's hand would touch an intimate part of Vicky's body. Running a fingertip down her spine, lifting the back of her skirt up over her ass. This was it. The moment of truth.

"Linda," I said quietly, "She's yours and you can do to her as you please." I thought we'd get the show Linda teased Vicky about for the last few months.

Linda's hand touched Vicky's cheek. "Anything? Anything at all?"

"Whatever you want...Linda," Vicky said.

Vicky's Macintosh apple red lips parted just a bit, allowing a hot lusty breath to slowly pass through. Her golden-green eyes blinked behind eyelashes that were long with perfectly applied mascara. Linda moved seductively around Vicky, running her hands along the side of Vicky's body. Linda's fingers moved up the front of her shirt and circled Vicky's breasts then continued on up the side of her neck then with just a tip of her fingers. Linda pushed a shirt button through its hole.

"What's she doing?" Paul asked.

"I don't know. Remember what I said. Latent fantasies and desires pop up. I think she's going to strip Vicky and do what she said she was going to do to her."

"Oh, the money we'll make," Paul said as he watched his wife tantalize Vicky.

More buttons' released their grip. Linda folded my wife's shirt back onto her shoulders. Vicky never said a word. Her breasts seemed to float in the half-bra she wore. The white skin seemed to glisten in the overhead lights. She stood like a solider being inspected at roll call. Linda pulled a bra strap from Vicky's shoulder. She let it go with a snap.

Linda took a step, then another, till she was inches away from Vicky's red lips. "You've always thought you were better. Better than me. Even in high school, you had your nose in the air," Linda said as she moved her finger across Vicky's delicately powered cheek. Linda licked her finger. "You taste good."

Linda completed another circle. She stopped in front of Vicky and gently lifted her chin. "Remember in college during our junior year you got me drunk."

"That was so long ago."

"Not for me. Don't you remember what you did to me? What they did to me?"

"We were young. We were drunk."

"Ah, you do remember."

Vicky shook her head. "No..."

"Sure you do. Vicky, what did you do to me?"

Vicky swayed in her heels, and lowered her head till her eyes were glazing at the carpet. "No...That was so long ago."

Linda raised Vicky's chin. "Well, let me refresh your memory. We went out with a couple of boys we knew. You and our dates got me drunk, and then you stripped me in front of them. After I was nude you pushed my knees up to my ears and showed me off. You pulled my lips away from my pussy. More booze. You coaxed me into masturbating in front of those guys. That's what you did."

"Linda, we were young and stupid. I didn't—"

"You didn't what?"

Vicky eyes grew red. "I didn't know how much pain it would cause you. I'm sorry."

Linda drew in a long breath and her fingers moved across Vicky's bare shoulders. "All the 'I'm sorrys' in the world won't pay my bill."

Linda splayed my wife's shirt open. "My, my, what nice tits you have." Her fingers moved along the top of my wife's boobs. "It's a shame to keep them hidden away like they are."

She moved her head to within inches of Vicky's ears. "I'm going to strip you. Strip you down to nothing just like you did to me in college. I'm going to show you off to my husband. I'm going to let him see your pussy in all its naked glory. Then you'll get on your knees and place those lips with their flawless lipstick around Paul's cock, and you're going to suck him dry. You're going to swallow his cum and beg for more.

"But you won't be done then, oh no. You're going to sit on the couch and while our husbands watch, you're going to rub one out for us."

"No..."

"Remember what you said... Anything."

"Fascinating!" I said and quickly scrambled to fish out my small notebook. I quickly jotted down a few lines. "I wasn't expecting this." I scribbled some more. "It appears that suppressed emotions bubble to the surface, too. This is simply amazing!" I walked back to the bar and sat beside Paul.

"Jesus, Stu, put that fuckin' notebook away. This is unreal—"

"Don't you see it?"

"See what?"

"Linda's hidden resentment to Vicky has been allowed to surface. Only her conscience kept it in place. Now, the gizmo has allowed those thoughts to emerge without control.

"I'm totally blown away by this. Not only had Linda's hidden emotions come to the surface, she's taken over, and Vicky... Wow, she's following her instructions as though you or me were giving them."

"Lose the shirt, Vicky," Linda cooed into Vicky's ear. Her warm breath blew by with every word she spoke. "Drop it on the floor."

Vicky wiggled the shirt off and tossed it onto the floor.

Linda stood in front of Vicky. She looped her fingers though the shoulder straps and tugged on them slightly. "Let's show Paul your tits now."

"Please don't, Linda."

"Why? Could it be you're ashamed? I don't have a bra on and your husband is seeing my tits. It's not right not to share, is it?"

"Linda, please..."

"What's going on?" Paul looked at me with a question-filled face.

I scratched my head. "I don't know. Perhaps Vicky knows what she did was wrong and will now pay for the deed. She knows she owes Linda, but is still holding back. Paul, I simply don't know."

Linda pulled Vicky's hands to her sides. "That's a good girl." Linda squeezed my wife's nipples and they hardened before our eyes. Her tits seemed about to overtop her bra. "Good girl."

Linda's hands reached behind Vicky's and freed the small catch holding her bra. Her finger wiggled into the middle of Vicky's bra and pulled it from her body. Vicky's breasts, about the size of apples, stood proudly. A strawberry areola surrounded each perk nipple. Linda gave each one another hard pinch.