Master PC: Breeding Edition
Copyright© 2025 by North Point
Chapter 11: Blurred Boundaries
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 11: Blurred Boundaries - She thinks it’s just a kink. He knows it’s much more. When Chris secretly makes his wife fertile again, her reckless craving for unprotected sex spirals into obsession. Now pregnant — and loving it — Sandy has no idea the clock is already ticking. Because for Chris, the real thrill isn’t fatherhood… it’s the risk.
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Mind Control Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Cream Pie Exhibitionism Oral Sex Pregnancy Safe Sex Body Modification Public Sex Transformation
Scene 1: One Week Left
The vote was final.
Subject 3 — Pregnancy Termination Scheduled: T–7 Days
No fanfare. No fanfare. No celebration. Just a soft pulse of white text beneath her channel feed — quiet, inevitable. She saw it that morning while pouring juice, projected on the fridge’s smart panel, looping her sex shop footage like it was just another grocery run.
Sandy stood there barefoot, one hand on the counter, the other absently adjusting the hem of her thin tank top, which clung to her breasts and outlined the subtle swell of her belly. The chill of the floor tiles under her soles was the only thing grounding her.
She didn’t flinch at the update.
She welcomed it.
⸻
She was just over three months now. Visibly pregnant, but only just. Her body felt like it was balancing at the edge of something soft and slow — her skin more sensitive, her steps more deliberate, her orgasms deeper but quieter. Her belly curved gently under her shirt, her hips softer, her nipples constantly brushing against fabric, alert and tender.
The arousal didn’t stop anymore. It came in pulses — in the middle of slicing vegetables, folding laundry, scrolling the feed. It didn’t matter what she wore or didn’t. The heat was always there.
But so was the weight.
And now, finally, she could feel it lifting.
⸻
Channel Overlay – Subject 3: Reset Path Confirmed
Pregnancy Reset Date: T–7 Days Cycle Tag: #ResetReady Next Ovulation Window: Scheduled 3 Days Post-Termination Breeding Readiness: High
⸻
Live Chat – [#Subject3-General]
@GlovePuller:
She’s gonna get fucked raw 10 minutes after that reset clears. Watch.
@BreedTeamSix:
We better get a poll on who knocks her up next. I’ve got credits banked.
@NoPulloutZone:
This time? No condoms. No scripts. Just let her wander and drip.
@SoreAndOpen:
I miss the dumb heat she had on cycle 2. Bring that Sandy back.
@Admin-Chris:
You’ll get her. Sooner than you think.
⸻
Later, she lay in bed, legs spread and belly warm, one hand lazily teasing between her thighs.
She didn’t touch herself the way she used to — not with hesitation or indulgence. Now it was mechanical. A maintenance routine. Her mind drifted ahead, always ahead.
She imagined walking into a hardware store in a too-tight dress, pausing in an aisle until someone noticed how swollen her nipples looked through the fabric. She imagined a stranger pressing her against a cold steel shelf and filling her before she even asked his name.
She imagined ovulating too soon. A mistake. A slip.
A gift.
Her orgasm came hard and wet — a single shiver down her spine, a jerk of her hips, and a gush that soaked the towel beneath her. No moan. No gasp.
Just need.
⸻
The bedroom door opened. Chris stepped in quietly, tablet in hand, eyes on the live dashboard.
She didn’t cover herself.
“Viewer engagement’s up 14% today,” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. “The reset countdown’s got them worked up.”
She said nothing, just adjusted the angle of her hips slightly.
Chris scrolled.
“Poll options are drafted for your next breeding cycle,” he added. “Top viewer suggestions so far: random park breeding, hidden glory hole encounter, or a post-reset gangbang with the last three candidates you remember.”
He looked over at her.
“You care which one wins?”
Sandy smiled faintly, her eyes half-lidded.
“As long as someone finishes inside me.”
⸻
He reached out, gently brushing her belly with the back of his hand.
“You ready to let this one go?”
She paused.
Then nodded, slow and steady.
“I want to feel empty again,” she whispered. “So I can be filled properly next time.”
⸻
Channel Overlay Update – Subject 3
T–7 Countdown Active Ovulation Sync: T+3 User Submission Poll Opening in 24 Hrs Top Suggested Tag: #NextLoadSoon Viewer Prompt: “What should she wear for her first raw load?”
Scene 2: The Café Encounter
Andrea arrived just after seven.
The air outside was cooling, but it did little to help the heat rising under her clothes.
She’d worn what the viewers chose: the short navy skirt clung to her thighs, and every brush of her skin sent a shock through her core. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to expose the tops of her breasts, the thin fabric offering zero protection from the breeze. Her nipples ached. Her coral lace panties were already damp.
Each step made her hyperaware. Each blink brought fresh doubt.
She didn’t do this. She didn’t dress like this. She didn’t walk into public places soaking wet under the illusion of control.
But now? She didn’t just do it. She wanted it.
⸻
The café was a soft, golden bubble. Intimate, busy, forgettable — unless you were her. To her, every person was watching.
The barista’s smile was too warm. His voice too steady. His greeting too specific.
“Hey. I’ve got you.”
She blinked at the cup he handed her — warm, spiced, unfamiliar. Her name printed neatly in black marker.
He gestured to the back table. “Quieter there.”
He didn’t ask her order. He didn’t ask her name. He already knew.
⸻
Channel Overlay – Subject 4: Live Encounter in Progress
Viewer Count: 10,206 Partner: Barista (Confirmed – Sponsored Access) Anonymous Note: “Happy 21st, son.” – W.O.
⸻
Live Chat – [#Subject4-Stream]
@QuietClimax:
She looks like she’s going to bolt. Her thighs are trembling.
@BaristaBoyToy:
Bet the panties are soaked. Skirt’s useless.
@Admin-Chris:
He’s been fully briefed. Don’t worry — she’ll follow.
⸻
Fifteen minutes later, the barista slipped through the staff door, pausing just long enough to hold it open for her.
Andrea hesitated.
Her hand clenched on the cup sleeve.
“I shouldn’t...” she whispered aloud, voice barely audible.
But she moved. She followed.
⸻
The staff room smelled like citrus cleaner and roasted beans. Dim lighting. The click of the door behind them felt louder than it was.
“You’re really her?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she breathed. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You are.”
His hands brushed her sides.
Andrea didn’t step back — but she didn’t lean in either. Her head shook faintly.
“We don’t have to rush—”
He kissed her collarbone.
Her blouse opened.
Her words stopped.
⸻
“You’re shaking,” he said, cupping her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, voice barely there. “Someone’s going to know...”
He lifted her chin. “They already do.”
Andrea whimpered, part protest, part plea.
But she didn’t move when he pressed his body against hers. She didn’t move when he reached under her skirt and felt how wet she was.
⸻
“You’re soaked.”
Andrea whimpered. “That’s not ... I didn’t mean—”
But he was already sliding her panties down, already lifting her, already pressing her against the lockers with hands firm at her thighs.
“No—wait—” she gasped. “I—”
He pushed inside her.
She moaned — loud, broken, full of disbelief.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Just ... wait...”
But her legs wrapped around him. Her arms clung. Her hips rocked without thought.
⸻
“You want this,” he growled into her shoulder. “Say it.”
“I don’t— I shouldn’t—” Her breath caught, her head falling back against the locker seam. “Please—don’t stop...”
He thrust faster.
Her blouse slipped off one shoulder. Her skirt was bunched to her waist. Her panties hung around one ankle, forgotten.
Andrea gasped, her mouth open and eyes unfocused.
“Breed me,” she whispered. “Do it like Subject 3—”
⸻
Live Chat Eruption — [#Subject4-Stream]
@StreamSniffer:
SHE SAID IT. SUBJECT 3. SHE SAID IT.
@QuietNoticedWatcher:
That’s not just a slip. That’s a reveal.
@Admin-Chris:
Logged. Continue stream.
⸻
The barista groaned as he came inside her, filling her fully and without hesitation.
Andrea’s head dropped to his shoulder.
Her body spasmed around him.
She whispered something — incoherent, broken.
He pulled out slowly, his cock glistening, her pussy stretched and leaking.
She didn’t look at him.
She couldn’t.
Even now, even this close — his face refused to form in her mind.
⸻
She walked home in silence.
The streetlights blurred through her lashes. Her thighs ached. Her panties were damp and twisted under her skirt.
She could smell herself.
Sweat.
Sex.
His cum, trickling between her thighs.
She imagined passing someone on the street — a stranger who would breathe her in and know what she’d done.
She hated how wet it made her again.
⸻
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