tagMind ControlToymaker Ch. 06

Toymaker Ch. 06


I spent some time with Keiko over the next few days. Now that we know that I can bend women into a deliciously hot, obedient froth, you'd think I wouldn't bother with a sexual scam that takes as much work and quick thinking as the incubus ploy. But Keiko had a perfect little body, and was conforming to my manipulation very nicely, and I liked that.

In effect, my ability gives me a difficult choice. My ability allows me to pick up a new toy, in a matter of minutes. New toys are new adventures, new emotions, new surprises. It's like having a new package to unwrap every day. On the other hand, a woman I spend more time with, is inexorably molded into an ideal sex toy. The molding process is automatic; when you can fuck with the pleasure/pain response of a woman on a moment by moment basis, you are in effect performing very efficient conditioning of their emotional response. Fear and sexual arousal are the two most effective conditioners available.

In effect, all my toys are fully programmable. And programming them improves them. But they lose the ability to surprise me.

For this part, though, I liked having Keiko around, and teaching her some games.


In keeping with the incubus scam, I was teaching Keiko to dress like a slut, and encourage men to want her body, with glances, movements and words. When she wasn't in class -- I didn't want her slutting out on campuses -- she was denied bras and panties, and I quickly pushed her daily wardrobe into bare midriff and short skirt styles, and then into outright fuck-me clubwear. Sometimes I sent her out to do her errands like that, and sometimes I walked with her, keeping her sexuality at a near boil while she practiced strutting and smiling at guys we passed. I conditioned her to feel deep arousal when men eyed her, head to toe, openly. I took the word slut and tramp out of her vocabulary, and replaced them with phrases like sexual empowerment, freedom of expression, and even made an argument that having her bare side-boobs lightly stroked in public, was a first amendment speech issue. Then I'd take her back to my room and toy with her or fuck her. By the fourth day of this, she was a well-programmed cocktease who turned every head we passed, men with lust and females with intensely angry envy.

So that Friday, I gave her a mission. I put a leashed collar on her throat, and told her she was going to sexually torment a male on the subway. I gave her very explicit instructions, and she was horrified, but when I explained that the alternative was a full night of very intense tease, denial, spankings and ruined orgasms, she came around.

The game was simple. She dressed as provocatively as we could get past the police, did a careful and sexy job with makeup, got into high heels, and put perfume on. I had her masturbate for five minutes, while kissing my cock, and then she walked with me, leashed, onto a very crowded rush-hour subway car with a whole lot of men on it. (Oddly, they had no trouble making room for her, even if it meant giving up things like breathing.) I held her on a short leash, opened a newspaper as best I could in the press of bodies, and proceeded to ignore everything around me, just another ruthless Master of a completely dominated submissive slut.

Slowly, she slid her hand onto the thigh of a man pressed against her. Her hand was shielded from view by her and myself and her chosen victim, so the guy didn't exactly protest. Then, just as slowly, she slid it over his cock, and squeezed, lightly. He gasped, and she went into her practiced routine -- glancing up at him, touching her finger to her lips in a shhh, and cocking her head very slightly towards me. The message was obvious -- she was a naughty little submissive who was trying to get away with something against the rules, under the very nose of her Master. Then she'd proceed to trace the outline of the suddenly swollen cock with her fingertips, over and over, until it was stone hard. I, of course, saw nothing, but his emotional state was impossible to ignore, and there were times it was very hard not to laugh.

Then she settled the base of her palm under the head of his cock, and her fingertips down along his balls, and gave him the sort of massage he'd wanted all his life. She'd also lean back against him a little, letting him look down the loose, open neck of her outfit, showing off her very hard nipples. Occasionally, but very briefly, she'd look up at him with that Expressionless Asian Face which can be so very hot in some circumstances, or lick her lips and shift against him.

The rules were, she wasn't permitted to let him come. If I judged he was getting close, I'd absentmindedly pat her ass, and she'd back off, as if afraid she was going to get caught.

Some men simply turned red and took it. Others tried to handle her back a little, which I allowed, because in Keiko's sexually hyped state, being handled by strangers made her go insane. If they got too obvious about it, I'd fold up the newspaper and make her switch places with me. That never failed to cause a burst of hate from the victim, which I found very amusing.

Every once in a while I'd turn the tables on Keiko -- when her victim rubbed her breast with an elbow, I'd stroke her thigh and push wicked images into her mind. Keiko was not allowed to make any noise whatsoever, or move away from any touching... sometimes she'd end up shuddering, in frustrated need.

After doing morning and evening rush hour (with an afternoon of sitting in my lap, watching erotic video in between), Keiko had fondled six men, and she was so utterly turned on that I was afraid the rocking of the train would set her off. I took her back to my room, and took out the Bitch Tamer. She sobbed at the sight of it.

"It's simple, Keiko. I've told you that sexual hunger gives power. By torturing those guys, you have become stronger. Now we're going to build power, with your own hunger. I'll use this on you, lightly, for ten minutes. If you make no noise, I'll reward you with an orgasm. If you make noise, I'll punish you and then we'll start over."

"I can't," she moaned. "Gods, one touch with a fingertip right now... and you're going to use that on me? Please no. Please, fuck, you're not human."

"Thanks for noticing. Lift that hem. Now."

I got it affixed, and I did in fact have to pin her to the edge to prevent her from coming just from having it inserted. I turned it to the lowest setting, and had her sit on the sofa, legs wide apart. She bit her lip, and then began shaking. I "let go" of my grip on her, forcing her to hold back her orgasm by herself, and set a timer for ten minutes, where she could see it. She stared at it, legs trembling.

"Think about how those hard cocks felt under your fingertips -- the way they throbbed, the way they ached to fuck you. Think about them running to bathroom stalls and jerking off as fast as they could, thinking about your body-"

She shuddered. I reached over and parted the top of her outfit wide, exposing her nipples.

"Those men are thinking of nothing but you today. They can't have you but they can't stop fantasizing about you; all they can do is picture your body and ache and maybe fuck other women and hope that helps. It won't. All they will see is your body, no matter who they fuck-"

She was writhing now, eyes closed tight, lips bitten shut. I stroked her nipples, very lightly.

"They will smell your perfume on them all night, and it will make them jerk off, again and again. They'll picture you sucking, or bent over, and they'll fuck their fists, imagining your mouth or ass, imagining you working them skillfully, begging them to come faster."

She arched, belly quivering, eyes sightless. Reading her was an intense emotional joyride.

"What would it be like to run into two of those men, some evening, just you and them? They'd grab you, they'd punish you for teasing them, they'd-"

"Fuck! Fuck I have to! I have to come now!"

I turned off the vibrator, picked up a small wooden ruler, and slapped it, sharply, on a nipple. She spasmed, crying out, her orgasm denied.

"Now we have to start again."


By the third failure, I had to put the ruler away, because at that stage the slap was as likely to trigger an orgasm as prevent one. She was glowing with sweat, and she trembled whenever I touched her. I kissed her trembling lips; she tasted like desperation.

"You can do this, Keiko. Ten minutes, that's all. You can gain that much control over yourself. Until you have that, there's no power over others. Become the woman that can fuck three times a night and pick if and when she comes, and you'll have power over men. Ten minutes."

I set the vibrator to two, and began to stroke her breasts, lightly. I kissed her mouth, and bathed in her weltering, agonizing sexual hunger. Her lips sucked mine, pleading and begging for help I would not give her. Tears flowed; but finally the timer dinged.

I set the Bitch Tamer to thirteen, and sucked her nipples, roughly, as she went screaming over the edge. I kept her coming for an hour, whispering to her about men using her body, one after the other, filling her and covering her with cum. Then I came on the floor, made her lick up some, roll in the rest, and rub it into her skin.

Best fucking day of my life.

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