Chapter 3: Taking charge

When Suzanne was lying on her back with my cock filling her cunt, or kneeling in front of me sliding her lips up and down my hard shaft, she was always willing and eager. The girl was in love with my cock and would do everything she knew how to do to get it to yield its load of precious cum. When she was getting fucked, Suzanne was every bit the cock-craving slut.

But when she wasn't, which was still most of the time, she was becoming increasingly unhappy. She tried to hide it from me, but it was obvious from the look in her eyes that she was no longer the giddily-in-love Montana girl that I'd been dating a month earlier. She wasn't miserable, but she was definitely unhappy. I assumed that what was happening was that she was starting to worry about what she was becoming.

She'd had a very conservative upbringing in Montana, going to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday night. Despite the fact that she'd been asked out on plenty of dates in high school, she'd only kissed one boy before going away to college. In college, of course, she'd been exposed to the wider world, getting intimate with several guys, and having sex with two of them. Those experiences had helped her discover that sex could be a beautiful thing between two people who loved each other. She'd told me all of this at one time or another.

But at the core, I knew, she was still the naive little girl from Montana who'd been taught by her parents and her church that sex was essentially an evil act, one that good people only engaged in when it was absolutely necessary to create another human life. Enjoying sex was evil, she'd been taught, and women who enjoyed sex were trashy sluts.

Her enjoyment of the sex she'd had in college hadn't caused her any distress, because she'd been in love with the two guys she'd had sex with. Similarly, the mind-blowing orgasms she'd experienced during our time together hasn't been of any concern, because she'd been madly in love with me, and she'd thought I was in love with her.

But now, her love for me was starting to fade, and the sexual mores instilled in her by her upbringing were trying to reassert themselves. The love she'd felt for me before had made her feel secure about enjoying sex, but it was losing its power, and losing ground to the old taboos.

Of course, this was only her mood when she wasn't primed for sex. When she was fired up and hot to trot, she was still the same fuck-hungry nympho she'd always been. And since she tried to hide it from me, I could plausibly pretend not to notice the change in her mood. So her increasing unhappiness was nothing to worry about.

But I noticed something else. Occasionally, I would catch her looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I would turn to look at her, and, just for an instant, catch sight of wary, suspicious look on her face. Her expression would always change to one of pleasant happiness as soon as turned my head, but slowly enough that I could catch a brief glimpse into her mind.

She was starting to become suspicious of me. I had introduced her to a whole world of pleasure she'd never know before, and she was starting to suspect I had some sort of ulterior motive.

We continued our nightly outings. Each time I either brought some clothing for her when I picked her up, or told her ahead of time what I wanted her to wear. She always complied. She never confronted me about the clothes I made her wear, or the tit-fucking, although I knew they bothered her.

I suppose she realized how stupid she would sound complaining about these things, when she obviously enjoyed wearing the clothes and having her tits fucked. Also, I'm sure she was worried that if she started an argument, I might leave her. Like I said, she was addicted to the sex. I planned to drive her to rebellion eventually -- that would be necessary before the proper relationship could be established between us -- but in the meantime, I was content to let things go on as they were.

At this point, Suzanne was behaving like a textbook nymphomaniac. All I had to do was slip her some aphrodisiac into a drink, and thirty minutes later, Suzanne was lying on the floor, eagerly taking my rock-hard cock into her wet pussy, or running her lips and tongue up and down my shaft. Her sexual skills, though not complete, were well-enough developed for the time being. I spent the next month, the third of our relationship, moving her in a new direction.

Up until now, whenever I wanted to fuck Suzanne, I had to arrange for her to drink something, so I could drug her, and then wait half an hour or so for her to get hot and beg me to do it to her. This had been fine for awhile; I'd even gotten quite a bit of enjoyment out of the challenge of arranging a drugging. But ultimately, the drug was a liability.

For one thing, it was inconvenient, and occasionally frustrating. Several times I'd been dying to fuck her, and been unable to arrange a drugging. For another, if I kept this up long enough, the chances were good that Suzanne would notice me drugging her beverages. That wouldn't completely ruin my plans, but it would force me to change them quite a bit. What I needed to do was bring Suzanne more fully under my control.

I started to do this one afternoon while we were enjoying a picnic in the park. We had just finished feeding a couple pieces of bread to the ducks in the pond. (I had arranged this, and many other "romantic" activities like it, in hopes of reigniting her fading love for me.) We had returned to our spread blankets and begun enjoying the lunch I'd packed in the basket that morning: sandwiches, chips, and bottled juice.

After finishing my first sandwich, I stood up and beckoned to Suzanne. She rose, confused. "What's the matter, Alan?"

"Nothing, honey. Just come with me." I took her arm and hurried up the hill toward a stand of trees and bushes.

"But where are we going?" she asked, confused.

I turned and smiled at her. "I have needs, too."

"Oh..." Her voice trailed off. She was perplexed, and with good reason. This was the first time I'd led her away to get fucked that she hadn't already been feeling horny. She'd had the drug, all right, but it hadn't taken effect yet. Nonetheless, she followed me.

We went in among the trees, where we were well-hidden from outside view. Gently, I pushed her down to the ground and made her lie on her back. I spread her legs and knelt between them. She was getting quite nervous. Her mind wasn't prepared to have sex in an undrugged state.

"Alan, I don't think this is a good idea..." she protested.

"Why not, honey? What are we doing here that we haven't done a dozen times before?" I asked.

"Well... I..." She took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. What she wanted to say, of course, was that this was all wrong, that she was the one who was supposed to tell me she "needed it," not the other way around. Obviously, she realized how selfish this would sound, because she didn't actually say it. "I don't think I... I'm ready..." she protested feebly.

"Well," I smiled, "you let me take care of that, honey." With that, I lowered my mouth to her dry cunt. She nervously forced a smile and lay back on the ground, clenching her fists at her sides.

I flicked my tongue around her cunt, trying to arouse her. It was tough going. She was extremely tense, with all her worries about getting caught and going to hell for being a slut running loose in her mind. There was no way I could possible eat her into arousal.

Fortunately, I didn't have too. The drug kicked in after a few minutes. The change was sudden and dramatic. Suzanne's body relaxed, and she began to moan in pleasure as I continued to lick her slit. She put her hands on my head, pushing it into her crotch, bucking against my mouth. "Oh, God, that's it, Alan, oh yessss..."

I probed my tongue experimentally into her pussy, driving her wild. I tasted the first gush of pussy juice as she began to respond to my attention.

"Please, Alan, I need you... I need you..."

I disengaged my mouth from her steamy cunt. Spreading her legs, I positioned myself over her. "Here I come, honey, here I come," I told her as I shoved my cock deep into her sopping wet pussy.

"Oh, yes," she moaned, "yes, yes, yes!" Through trial and error, she'd learned to use her cunt muscles to enhance my pleasure. As I fucked her, her pussy massaged my cock, sending waves of pleasure down my spine. Suzanne was an incredible fuck by now.

I soon shot my wad into her velvety cunt, which was still expertly squeezing my dick. The feel of my jism splashing into her cunt was enough to send her over the edge into an orgasm. She bucked and heaved, slamming her pelvis into me as my engorged dick shot my seed into her belly. I collapsed on top of her, spent, as she shrieked her way through her orgasm.

The key difference between our screw that day in the park and all our previous fucks was one of timing. Up until then, I'd always given Suzanne the drug, and then waited for her to tell me she was horny before fucking her. But this time, I had indicated to her that I was horny, and needed to fuck, before she had started getting horny herself. Soon afterward, though, the drug had kicked in and she'd felt the desire to screw. Her brain would associate the desire (as well as the orgasm) with my telling her that I needed to screw her. This would come in useful later on.

Over the next three weeks, I gradually reduced the number of episodes of the first kind, the ones that I allowed her to initiate, and phased in the second form, the ones that I started. Usually, I timed it so that things happened in some public area, such as a theater. We'd be sitting together watching a movie, or a concert, or whatever, when I would suddenly grab her arm and stand up, pulling her up with me. I'd lead her quickly out into the lobby and into whatever semi-private area I could find. In a matter of minutes, she'd be down on her knees, sucking my rock-hard dick like a three-dollar whore.

She had started to believe, deep inside, that simply putting a dick into her mouth would get her excited. And when the drug took effect a few minutes later, and started her pussy juices flowing, her brain took it as confirmation of this association. The Pavlov drug, in turn, helped the brain to rewire itself to reflect the new knowledge.

Sometimes I shot my load into her mouth. She would greedily swallow every last drop of jism while her body shuddered in orgasm. Sometimes I would pull away early, reposition her, and fuck her wet pussy. She seemed to especially enjoy taking it from behind. I would bend her over a table, or whatever surface was convenient, and she would lie on her stomach, bucking against me as I pounded into her sopping wet pussy. All the while, her well-trained cunt muscles would massage my dick until I came, which always got her really excited.

The best times, though, were the times when I came on her face. While she was sucking my cock, I would reach down and give her nipples a single firm squeeze. I'd developed this as the signal for tit-fucking. She would respond by letting my dick slide out of her mouth and readjusting her position so that her boobs were level with my stomach. Then she'd place my rock-hard cock between her tits and squeeze them tightly around it. Slowly at first, she would jack her entire body up and down, squeezing and kneading her tits as they moved up and down along my shaft. Every time my cock thrust into her face, she would give it a quick lick with her tongue.

The whole routine drove me wild. Watching Suzanne bob up and down on my shaft, her eyes closed in orgasmic pleasure, I had to struggle to keep myself from coming in the first ten seconds. She was one hot bitch.

Soon I would be able to hold back no longer, and my cock would start to throb with my imminent ejaculation. Suzanne could feel this, and when it happened her response was always the same. She would take my pulsating dick in her hand, point it at her face, close her eyes, and begin to jack furiously at it.

When my jism shot from my dick onto her pretty, upturned face, she would start to shudder. As my sticky white come covered her forehead, cheeks, nose and chin, she would try to wipe it up with her free hand and bring it to her mouth. By the time I finished shooting my load, she would be experiencing a full-on orgasm, swallowing as much of my cum as she could get into her mouth. She never got it all, though, and when she came down from her orgasm she would sit there, breathing heavily, her face and tits glistening with come.

And so, three weeks after that afternoon in the park, I dropped the Suzanne-initiated episodes altogether. From that point on, I fucked her whenever and wherever I wanted to, and she had no say in the matter.

Technically, the difference was trivial; it was only a matter of changing the amount of time between when I slipped her the aphrodisiac and when I unzipped my fly. But the association formed in her brain was very different. These new encounters would reinforce in her subconscious mind the notion that she should get hot whenever I indicated a desire to fuck her. And, as usual, the Pavlov drug was making her very receptive to these sorts of associations.

Initially, she was always hesitant to go into action, like she'd been that in the park. I would always have to calm her down and eat her out or finger her twat for awhile to get her to relax. And at first, even this had little effect; she would remain tense and fidgety until the aphrodisiac kicked in five or ten minutes later, at which point she dived eagerly into slut mode.

I got frustrated during a lot of these warmup periods. It was annoying to have to sit there and twiddle her clit for ten minutes when I knew damn well that the aphrodisiac would heat her up soon no matter what I did. But this was important. So I stuck with it, and persevered through the inconvenience.

Slowly, but steadily, Suzanne learned to relax and enjoy my attention, even before the aphrodisiac hit her. Once again, she was learning a lesson, that getting attention from me would lead eventually to an orgasm. Quite soon, she had reached the point where the mere touch of my hands or mouth on her cunt would send her right up. And a week after that, I only had to give the merest suggestion of wanting to fuck, and she'd be eager to go. This was exactly the effect I wanted. Of course, I still made sure she was flying on the aphrodisiac before I let her orgasm.

Once I felt that I had sufficiently established this principle in her, I moved on to the next step. First, I set aside the Pavlov drug for awhile. At this point, Suzanne was as well-trained as was really necessary. Later, I would bring it back, but for now it would only get in the way. (Plus, the stuff was expensive.) Slowly, over a carefully planned period of six weeks, I began to lower the dosage of aphrodisiac I gave Suzanne before fucking her.

At first, her sexual enjoyment dropped off. This was the riskiest part of the whole procedure, and I really didn't know exactly what would happen. Even though I had known it was coming, the sudden decrease worried me. I could tell that her orgasms were less intense. The air of general unhappiness that had surrounded her for the past couple months thickened.

I began to pay a little more attention to her needs than I had been. It was important not to lose her now. Surprisingly, the lessening intensity of her orgasms drove her to put more and more energy into fucking, as though she thought it was her fault that she wasn't enjoying it as much, and she was trying to make up for it. I actually felt sorry for the poor girl, and even a bit guilty. Here I'd spent several months teaching her that sex was the most important thing in life, making it the end-all, be-all of her existence, and now I was pulling it away from her. And she thought it was her fault.

Fortunately, by the middle of the second week, Suzanne's body began to compensate for the decrease in the aphrodisiac dosage, and her orgasms started creeping back up to their previous heights. According to all the literature I'd read, this was supposed to happen; the effect of the Pavlov drug was not confined to conscious actions and desires. Rather, it reached out to affect all aspects of bodily function. If you had a pin stuck into your toe repeatedly as you listened to Beethoven's Fifth while on the drug, hearing "Da-da-da-daaaaah" in the future would cause you to feel a prickling pain in your toe. Not just wince your eyes in anticipation of pain, but actually feel real pain.

Of course, what works in one instance doesn't always work in another. So I was visibly relieves when Suzanne's body overcame the decrease in drug dosage and began to deliver inhumanly strong orgasms once again, as it had been taught. She was visibly happier; in fact, she was happier than she'd been since the first time my come had covered her face.

I kept to the planned program for the next month, fucking her at least once a day, gradually reducing the dosage of aphrodisiac to zero. Her sex drive remained rock steady for the rest of that period. I was frankly amazed at the ability of her body to compensate for the loss of the drug.

On the last day of the aphrodisiac phase-out, I phoned Suzanne and told her to be ready to go out for dinner at 6:30, wearing the red dress that I had given her on our second date.

I showed up right on time. She greeted me at the door with a kiss. "Hi, honey," she said, bright and cheery. The moment of truth had arrived.

Without a word, I placed a hand on her shoulder and began to push gently downward. With barely a second's hesitation, she sunk to her knees in front of me. Her fingers nimbly undid my pants and brought out my rapidly stiffening cock. She lovingly caressed it a few times, and then took it into her hot, wet, mouth.