Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mind Control, Cheating, Slut Wife, Group Sex, Orgy, Black Male, White Female, Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Big Breasts, .
Desc: Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - All Ben has to do to win the bet of his life is to be faithful for four days. Win and his wildest dreams come true. Lose and the results are disastrous. Easiest bet he's ever made...(No IN or Preg)
Ben set his cup down on the last empty table at the crowded coffeehouse. He plopped himself down in the cushy seat and scanned the room. He probably stared a second or two longer than was polite at the cute college girl sitting at the table next to him before moving on. As much as he tired to not let his gaze wander to other women sometimes he just couldn't help it.
The coed had her text books out and was looking at one notebook while she jotted more notes in another. Her sandy blond hair was pulled up in a pony tail and held there with a frilly white scrunchy. Despite the warm spring day, she wore a pullover with the local university's logo on it and capri pants. Her soft features weren't covered in makeup. In fact, the little makeup she had on was poorly applied, as if she'd just started wearing it recently. She reminded Ben a lot of his wife of 15 years, Ellen, which is why he forgave himself of the slight transgression.
Putting the girl out of mind, he unfolded his newspaper and started to read. The coffeehouse's muzak and ambient noise faded into a calming murmur. Ben came to the coffeehouse just for that; he found total silence off-putting and anything more than background noise would steal his attention. Taking a sip of his coffee, he searched through the section for the continuation of his article.
A woman sitting at one of the window seats yelled something at her boyfriend. Her high pitched squeal pierced Ben's ears. He folded his newspaper down and shot her a disapproving glare. Couldn't people have the decency to breakup in private? What was with the fad of dumping people or firing them in a crowded place? Yes! It makes a scene, no matter what they thought.
Turning back to his paper, Ben started reading again. The soothing chatter of the coffeehouse helped him regain his focus but it was lost when the woman cried out again. He glowered at her. The serenity of the place was gone, his attention was shot. Ben tried to get back into his paper, but they'd ruined it for him.
Now just pretending to read, Ben glanced back up at the arguing couple. The woman was pointing out the window at a whorish looking girl who was adjusting her rather large, fake breasts in the store window. She was probably pissed that her boyfriend was staring at the slut. The way the guy was grinning, Ben figured they had that argument a lot.
It was hard for Ben to find fault with either of them. He couldn't blame the guy for looking, the way the girl had displayed herself and had been hefting her tits around right in front of him, it was inevitable. Ben wasn't really into that type of girl, but had he been in the other guy's place, there's no way he could have looked away. It would have been like watching a traffic accident unfold in front of him. But the angry woman was well with in her rights. They were in a relationship. Relationships were sacred. Relationships were monogamous and should be, as The Flamingos sang, "I only have eyes for you."
He stole a second glance at the studious coed at the table next to him. Not that Ben knew her, but he could tell she'd be the faithful type when she at last found the right man. She looked so much like his love, Ellen, so angelic and innocent. Ben was the first person Ellen had even kissed. Most of his friends had thought her overly gullible, Ben felt it was just her purity and the faith she had in her fellow man. He idly wondered if the coed would blush at profanity in the cute way Ellen did.
"Fine!" The woman by the window yelled. This time, the college girl joined Ben in his glare. The couple's argument seemed to becoming to a climax. Ben hoped that one or both of them would leave and he could concentrate again. He took a glance at the coed and their eyes met. Hurriedly, he ducked behind his newspaper and hid.
Pretending to read his paper, Ben shielded himself from his embarrassment until a nondescript voice spoke to him. "Ben, mind if I sit with you?"
Ben looked over the top of his paper. The man from the arguing couple was peering over it at him. Ben raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"
Without waiting for Ben's approval, the average looking man plopped down into the empty seat across from him. "You do now, Ben."
"I'm sorry. I come here to read. Would you mind..."
"Don't lie, Ben. We both know you come here just to check out the girls."
"I most certainly do not!"
The man grinned. "There's no use denying it, Ben. You've been drooling over that coed ever since you sat down."
Slamming his paper down on the table, he glowered at the man. "'Ben. Ben. Ben.' Look, if you're going to constantly name me while you insult me, you could at least have the decency to give me yours."
The mysterious man waved his hand. "You don't want to know my name."
"No? What do I want then?"
"That." He pointed at the college girl.
True, she was the type of girl he liked, he could admit that much. but he didn't [i]want[/i] her. He already had Ellen. But there was something about the girl; her unevenly applied makeup seemed more professional and thicker, a lot thicker. Foundation was liberally applied to hide every blemish, and grayish-blue eye shadow accentuated the bright blue colored contacts she wore.
She lifted her pencil to her mouth and it transformed into a stick of dark red lipstick, which she applied to her collagen enhanced lips. Slowly, her pullover started to lift up as implants grew into her tits. It wasn't long before the pullover itself started to change. The neck line fell lower and lower, exposing more and more of her plastic chest. The sleeves fell away, exposing several tattoos fading in on her arms. The pullover was now a tank top so tight, it could have been painted on and done more to conceal her flesh.
Not to be out done, her jeans retreated up her well toned legs. They finally stopped at the point where the term "short Daisy Dukes" would have been too modest to describe how little material was left. Her now overly exposed legs darkened until they were a deep tan of a girl who spent more hours sunning than anything else. Her socks started to climb up the curve of her leg thinning themselves out into a pair of cross-patterned stockings that stopped just above her knees, leaving her smooth thighs completely exposed. Her red sneakers fell apart as the heel grew into large spikes. The college slut's new red heels were bright enough that they'd call attention to them, making sure anyone looking would drink in her legs down to her toes.
The text books and notebooks she had been using were gone. In their place was some nail polish and makeup. Her attitude and aurora radiated, "I've got more important things to do than school." Ben didn't know what was happening to the former coed, but he instinctively knew that that girl hadn't even graduated high school let alone made it into the prestigious local university. She was geared to making a living off her body, not her brain. The coed ceased to exist, even in Ben's mind.
Ben looked away from the slut. "You must be crazy. I've never been interested in girls like that."
"Don't be shy, Ben. It's only natural. She presents herself for the taking. I bet if you asked, she'd do you on the table, you and your massive cock."
"I'm a married man, how dare you suggest I would even consider doing such a thing."
"Lots of men have extramarital affairs."
"I believe in the sanctity of monogamy."
The girl had pulled a dildo out of her purse and was fucking her exposed cunt. Ben looked around, but no one but him and the barista had seemed to notice. The other woman was glowering at the tramp.
"I bet you wish that was your dick she was fucking," the mystery man said.
"No, I was thinking whether I should call the cops or not."
"I don't know why you deny your manhood. You should just fuck her. Take her to the bathroom and do her up the ass if you're to shy about taking her right here and now."
Ben couldn't understand why he didn't just get up and leave the vulgar man. Every impulse he had screamed for him to do just that, but he sat there and engaged him in conversation.
"I don't because I have a wife."
"I know, it's the classic 'married my high school sweetheart.' Look, after you fuck that girl, fuck your wife when you get home. She'll never know."
"I'm not going to fuck ... screw her."
"I was trying to be nice. I was trying to lighten your life up, but I see you just want to be a prick. Alright, I'll make you a bet. I bet you that you can't resist fucking that girl four times in the next four days."
Ben grinned. "That'll be the easiest bet I've ever won."
The nondescript man leaned forward and stared Ben in the eyes. "Alright then, here are the terms. If you win, you and your monster meat will be forever successful. If you play the lotto, you'll win. If you start a new business, it'll go national with in the first month."
Doubt was creeping into Ben's mind. There was no way that man could make that promise come true. No one had that power.
"However, every time you fuck that nasty slut you're drooling over, you'll lose an inch off your cock, and you'll go home and fuck your wife. Your wife will pick up a trait of the slut until she could be a mirror image."
Ben looked at the skank dildoing herself in public, only this time, he saw the cute coed with a bright future. His eyes told him she was a whore that would fuck anyone for anything, but his mind told him she used to be sweet and innocent, like Ellen. That was impossible.
He turned his attention back to the man. Ben knew in his soul that his table companion was responsible for the changes. Getting in a bet with someone who could do that... "No bet," Ben said.
The man put his hand to his cheek and in mock sympathy said, "Aww, Ben, you've already accepted. 'That'll be the easiest bet I've ever won.' It's really simple. Just don't fuck that girl four times in four days."
[i]It'll be easy.[/i] Ben looked at the girl. Her bulbous tits shook with her furious thrusting. Her free hand massaged her pierced clit and she squirmed in her seat. Ben felt no attraction for women like that, but his cock said otherwise. He could feel himself hardening, his nine inch monster snaked its way down his thigh.
A glance around the room told him no one was paying attention to the girl except for him and the baristra. She was still frowning at the display. [i]Someone's gotta say something and put a stop to this.[/i]
Lurching up out of his seat because of his raging hard-on, Ben walked over to the slut. "Excuse me."
She looked up at him. "Bout fucking time! I was wondering how long you'd just stare. Let's get your little guy out to play."
Before he could say anything or do anything, the slut had his fly open and fished out his giant penis. Not prepared for its size, it flicked out and hit her cheek. She cooed "Wow. I should have said big guy! You're huge!" Then, she plunged every inch of him into her mouth.
Ben shuddered with the sensation. He'd never been deep throated before. Warmth and pleasure spread from his groin up. He didn't want the sensation to stop. He wanted this skank to slurp him forever, but then again, if her mouth was this good, what would it be like to fuck her fake tits or loose cunt?
He pulled the straps of her tank top down and freed her melons. They had no sag as they proudly stuck off her chest. Pulling his member out of her mouth, the girl put it in her cleavage and started to rub. Ben was again blown away by the experience. He felt like he'd been cheating himself his entire life.
Not caring if anyone was watching their pornographic performance, Ben picked the slut up and threw her on the table. Coffee went spilling everywhere. He moved the thin material covering her crotch and shoved his shaft in her.
"Oh, God! You're so fucking big. I'd fuck you any time," she said. The girls screams and moans filled the coffeehouse, yet still no one seemed to notice. As Ben pounded into her, her moans turned into a stream of "Fuck me!"s.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the barista finally make her way over with a stern look, but some man Ben felt he'd seen somewhere before led her away by her arm. He focused on the whore's massive rack wobbling back and forth with his thrusts. He could feel his orgasm building up, so could the girl, who rolled off the table and put him back in her mouth. Just like a porn star, she jacked him and sucked him until he exploded in her mouth.
"You were fantastic," she told him.
"Thanks. How much do I owe you?" [i]What?[/i]
"For a fuck like that, I should be paying you. No charge, honey."
What was he thinking about paying her for? He'd betrayed his vows to Ellen! Ben zipped his fly up and ran out of the coffeehouse, leaving his paper behind.
By the time Ben got home that night, he convinced himself he'd fallen asleep at the coffeehouse and dreamed the whole ordeal. How could he fuck someone in public without anyone noticing? How could a coed morph into a whore? The thing he found most incredulous was how could he have been unfaithful? There was no doubt in his mind that it was all a dream.
Ellen was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner when Ben walked up behind her and hugged her. Her shoulder length brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and it tickled Ben's nose. She wore a loose fitting orange shirt with the logo of their alma mater on it and a pair of black jeans over her slim athletic figure.
He pressed his hard dick into her skinny ass and wiggled his hips back and forth while moving hers in the opposite direction. "Honey, I'm home," he said.
"Someone sure is." She slapped his hands away. "But after dinner. It'll get cold."
Disappointed, Ben turned away and headed into the dining room. Thanks to Ben being rather successful, they were financially stable enough that Ellen didn't need to work. That was the way Ben preferred it, having his wife at home to cook and clean for him. It gave him a sense of satisfaction knowing he'd always come home to an immaculately clean house, and delicious homemade meals perfectly on time. Ben was without want whenever he was home.
Ben sat down at the already set table and drank from the glass of wine Ellen had left out for him. It was a Malbec, which meant Ellen was preparing her lamb dish. Ben wondered if she had time to go to the gym today like she normally did.
She made idle chitchat as she put a salad down in front of Ben. He grunted his responses and dug in. Ellen sat across from him and started to eat in a more graceful manner. He wasn't in the mood for talking. He wasn't in the mood for eating either. There was only one thing on his mind and his erection agreed with him. He'd been hard the second he walked in the door, but if Ellen wanted to eat before they fu ... made love, Ben was willing to agree. It didn't mean he wouldn't scarf his food down to hurry the process up, however.
Something beeped in the kitchen and Ellen got up to go check on whatever it was. As soon as she left, Ben took the opportunity to eat half her salad, hoping to speed her up as well. He was able to get back in his seat just as Ellen came back with a rack of lamb with rosemary. As she served some to Ben, he looked at her non-existent chest and wondered what she'd look like with implants. An extra surge of blood rushed to his penis. [i]Where the hell did that thought come from?[/i]
Unhappy with how he was acting, Ben determined to deny himself. He would eat slower than normal, wait until Ellen had finished the dishes, then they would watch TV together and right before they went to sleep, he'd fuck Ellen's brains out. [i]No![/i] They would make tender love.
Ellen glanced at her salad. "Wow, did I really eat that much already?"
Through a mouthful of lamb, Ben said, "Uhh, yeah. You seemed pretty hungry."
"That's weird." Ellen sat back down and continued talking about various things. Ben usually enjoyed talking with her, but tonight he just kept staring, waiting for her to finish. When she got to the point where Ben considered her done, he stood up and walked over to her. He felt obsessed, compelled to take his wife. There was no denying his lust.
He took her hand and pulled her away from the table.
"What are you doing, Ben? What's gotten into you?"
Ben didn't answer, he just led her into the bedroom and pushed her down on the bed.
"Get the light," Ellen said.
Ben turned the light off and threw his clothes off. In the faint glow coming in from outside, he could see that Ellen was doing the same. Her formless body shifted in the shadows and Ben had a flash back to his daydream from lunch, giant tits with pierced nipples, vulgar sex, and cum drinking. His cock throbbed and pre-cum appeared on the tip.
None of that would happen with his wife. She considered oral sex dirty, didn't like her breasts to be fondled, and never made a peep. When Ben heard women complaining about the lack of foreplay, he often joined in.
"Are you wet?" he asked.
Ellen touched herself. "Yes." She grabbed his penis and aimed it at her vagina. "Wow, you're really hard tonight."
Ben grunted and thrust into her. She was wet. She was more than wet; Ellen was practically overflowing. For the first time ever, Ellen moaned as he entered her. Her cries of passion didn't stop there, rather, they escalated as he pumped into her. Her moans soon turned into "Harder!" and "Yes!" and got progressively lewder until she was crying out "Fuck my cunt!"
Whether it was how wet his wife was or how vulgar she was, Ben couldn't tell, but he could no longer hold back and shot his load deep into her pussy. She let out a long "fuuuuck" and came with him. Then, what surprised him even more than her profanity, she got up and started cleaning his cock off. The sight of his wife's lips wrapped around his dick made Ben get hard again.
Several hours later, the couple laid side by side. Ben was groping the small 175cc implants Ellen had gotten some time a go to give her boyish form nice B cup breasts. Sperm was leaking out of her well used pussy.
"That was fucking incredible. In-fucking-credible. Why haven't you ever fucked me like that before?"
Ben didn't respond. He was deep in thought. After his last orgasm, his penis had seemed smaller. It had looked a good inch shorter than normal. Maybe it was because he was tired after cumming so many times. Even if it was lost, that would have put him at eight inches, which was still quite large.
"Shit. We can never 'make love' again. You've gotta fuck me from now on." Ellen got out of bed and walked naked out of the room. Somewhere in the back of Ben's mind it struck him as odd that she hadn't gotten dressed.
He followed her out into the kitchen, also nude. Ellen was standing in front of the sink, looking at the dishes. "I don't feel like doing this shit now. I'll do it tomorrow."
"You've, uuh got something there." Ben pointed at some cum dribbling down her thigh.
"Oh wow, I do." Ellen ran her finger up her thigh, scooping it up and then licked her hand clean. Despite their numerous couplings in the bedroom, Ben started to get hard. Ellen noticed it. "You better put that cock away, or I'll find a place to fucking stick it."
Unable to contain himself, Ben pushed her against the counter and entered her from behind. It didn't occur to Ben that not only was it the first time for him to have sex with the lights on, it was also their first time outside of the bedroom. The dishes didn't get done that night.