Master PC: Breeding Edition
Copyright© 2025 by North Point
Chapter 12: The Threshold
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 12: The Threshold - 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: Reset Eve
The apartment was silent. Still. Dimly lit only by the pulse of the screen across from the bed. Subject 3 — Reset Scheduled: T-22h 18m
Sandy lay naked on top of the sheets, her body clean but still faintly flushed, the air around her thick with the faint scent of fabric softener, sweat, and sex. Her blonde hair was spread across the pillow in a soft halo, slightly damp from her evening shower. The sheets beneath her were freshly changed — for once — cool and unsullied.
Her eyes didn’t move.
Her left hand rested over the curve of her lower belly, gently rounded now — just enough to feel it, to feel the pressure pushing outward from within. She traced lazy circles over her skin, fingers gliding from navel to hip, hip to pubic bone, like she was reacquainting herself with her own shape.
She wasn’t supposed to be sentimental.
The Program didn’t account for this kind of attachment. And Chris didn’t expect it from her — not after the conditioning, not after everything she’d surrendered.
But it was there.
Subtle. Deep. In the muscles, not the thoughts. A craving for the risk, for the rush of it — not just being filled, but the terrifying possibility of it sticking. Of it taking root. Of it meaning something.
And now it would all be undone.
A long exhale left her lips, and her right hand drifted down. Not in hunger. In habit.
Her fingers brushed between her legs — slow, absent, clinical — circling her clit like clockwork. She was always wet now. Always half-aroused. Half-primed. The last month of pregnancy had only heightened it — a constant simmer beneath the skin, a need that never completely cooled.
She touched herself because it was what her body expected. What the system had trained her to do. It wasn’t about pleasure. Not really.
It was ritual. Preparation. She was priming herself to be emptied.
The screen across from her updated in time with her breath:
Ovulation Suppression: Active Termination Procedure: Queued Cycle Reset Scheduled: 22h 17m
She blinked once. That was enough.
⸻
Live Viewer Overlay: #Subject3-ResetEve [Active]
@WombWatcher94: She’s calm. Too calm. She knows it’s the last night. @FirstDropFetish: Can we vote on who gets first raw access after the wipe? @PublicUseOrNothing: Gangbang. In the park. On her back like a bitch in heat. @GloryHoleGov: Nah. I want her blindfolded. Face wet. Knees spread. Confused and leaking. @Chris-Admin: All options are under consideration. Top 3 right now: – Public Park – Hidden Glory Hole – Blindfolded Breeding Room We’ll begin voting after her reset. @BreedReset: Imagine watching her womb flush out just to be filled again. 😩
⸻
Chris’s voice joined the stream — warm, dry, professional. The kind of tone one might use when announcing raffle winners.
“She’s done beautifully this cycle. Responsive. Highly fertile. Hypercompliant.” “And, yes — she’ll be ready for new assignments within 48 hours of reset.” “In the meantime ... I have a question for the group.”
Sandy’s eyes stayed closed, but her fingers slowed, as if listening.
“Would anyone here be interested in owning pieces of her clothing?” “Not cleaned. Not sanitized. Just ... collected. Preserved.” “These are the actual outfits she wore during her breeding scenes — the ones she leaked through, came in, squirted on. Most are still stained. Some soaked.”
⸻
Viewer Reactions:
@SniffedHerFirst: FUCK YES @CumOnCommand: I want her panties from the first public fuck. The ones that slid off mid-squat. @DripTokenMaxi: Put them on-chain. I’ll bid live. @Chris-Admin: Noted. We currently have 17 preserved pieces — bagged and timestamped.
Overlay:
Physical Memorabilia Poll Active 91% Interested in Soiled Clothing Archive Most Requested Items: Panties, Park Dress, Skirt (Grocery Scene)
⸻
Sandy was still touching herself.
Her breathing deepened slightly, legs shifting wider, toes curling under the sheets.
She wasn’t touching for them. She wasn’t even touching for herself.
This was just what her body knew. This was what came next.
Her mind floated — to the first time she’d been fucked raw on camera, back before the term “Subject 3” had meant anything. To the man who pulled her hair while he pumped into her, leaving her gasping and dazed. To the flood of cum that leaked down her thighs while Chris whispered “good girl” in her earpiece.
She remembered the moment she realized she might actually be pregnant — the second orgasm that followed, triggered entirely by the idea of it taking.
It wasn’t romance. It wasn’t shame. It was deeper than either.
It was purpose.
Her belly clenched softly again.
Her fingers pressed harder, faster now, just for a moment — and then the wave took her.
Not loud. Not theatrical. But total.
A slow, consuming orgasm that left her arching just slightly, hips tilted upward, her mouth parting in a silent cry.
Her hand didn’t stop right away. It lingered. Shuddered. Slipped down to stroke over her slit as she came down, as if confirming she’d done it — that she was still wet, still alive, still open.
And then, only then, did she whisper:
“I want to feel empty again. So I can be filled properly next time.”
⸻
Overlay Pulse: Cycle Reset Imminent T-22h 12m
Scene 2: Private Session — Ryan & Andrea
The private stream activated without warning.
No intro. No countdown. Just a shift to a wide, static overhead shot of the bedroom — sterile, quiet, and still.
Andrea was already tied down.
Her wrists were cuffed above her head, soft restraints looped through the headboard. Her legs were spread wide, ankles secured to the corners of the bed frame. A small pillow raised her hips, tilting her open to the camera. Her skin was flushed. Her hair, loose and wild, spilled around her face in messy blonde waves. Her chest rose and fell in slow anticipation.
She was naked. Utterly bare.
No collar. No accessories. Nothing but her body — conditioned, vulnerable, already slick with arousal.
⸻
Private Overlay: Session 713 — Subject 4: Conditioning Checkpoint
Restraint: Active Emotional Submission Index: 59% Lubrication Detected: Yes Vaginal Access: Granted Condom Status: Pending Audience: Tier-4 + Admin
⸻
The door clicked softly as Ryan stepped in.
He wore simple black boxers, his body lean and calm. He moved without haste, without spectacle — just a quiet confidence that unnerved even the camera. He said nothing at first. Just walked to the edge of the bed, looked down at her, and placed one hand gently on her thigh.
Andrea’s breath caught.
Ryan didn’t move to the drawer. Not yet. Instead, he leaned forward, brushing his fingers between her legs — testing how wet she was. She flinched, but didn’t pull away. His fingers glided over her slit, slow and silent.
Then he bent down and kissed the inside of her thigh. Once. Then again. Higher each time.
“You’re dripping,” he murmured. “You thought tonight was the night, didn’t you?”
Andrea’s voice trembled.
“You said ... after the café...”
He didn’t respond. Just brought his mouth closer. His tongue flicked once against her clit — light, teasing. She gasped and arched, the cuffs rattling.
Then he pulled back.
And only then did he reach into the drawer and take out the condom.
Her eyes snapped open.
He tore the wrapper without flair, slowly rolled it down his now-hard cock, and knelt between her thighs.
“Why...?” she whispered.
“You know why,” he said.
He guided himself to her entrance and pressed forward — slowly, steadily — letting the latex drag across her soaked lips.
Andrea groaned softly, her hips rising instinctively to meet him.
“This isn’t fair,” she breathed.
“No,” Ryan said. “It’s not.”
⸻
He slid into her — long, smooth strokes. The sound of wet friction echoed off the walls. His rhythm was steady, precise, frustrating. He wasn’t chasing pleasure. He was enforcing a lesson.
Andrea’s body reacted despite her. Her thighs shook. Her back arched.
“You want it bare,” he murmured in her ear. “You want to feel every twitch, every pulse. You want to know if I’ll stay in long enough to risk it.”
“Yes—” she gasped, shame flooding her voice. “I mean—no—I just—”
“Liar.”
He picked up the pace, grinding against her clit with every thrust. The pleasure bloomed too quickly, too sharply.
“Say it.”
“Please...”
“Say you want me to take it off.”
Her voice cracked.
“I want you bare. I want you to cum inside me.”
The confession shattered her composure.
She came without warning — a low, gasping climax that rocked through her as she writhed helplessly beneath him. She moaned through clenched teeth, soaking the sheets beneath her. Her pussy clenched hard around the condom-covered cock inside her, milking nothing.
Ryan slowed. Then stopped.
He pulled out.
Andrea whimpered, confused.
“No—please—don’t stop—”
He stood, peeled off the condom deliberately, and dropped it beside the bed. She watched it fall with wide, stunned eyes.
Then he turned her over.
Easily. Wordlessly. Like she weighed nothing.
Her bound wrists now pressed beneath her. Her ass was raised. Her knees spread further. Her cunt glistened, spent and twitching — but Ryan didn’t look at it again.
He climbed onto the bed, positioned himself behind her.
“No—Ryan—wait—” she panted, starting to understand.
But it was too late.
He pressed into her ass — bare — slowly, inexorably. Andrea cried out, her body jolting forward.
“You don’t get my seed there,” he whispered. “Not yet.”
He thrust deep.
⸻
She screamed into the mattress.
It wasn’t pain. It was shock. Denial. Overload.
He fucked her with measured control — hands gripping her hips, pace relentless. His skin smacked against hers as her ass clenched around him. Her own orgasm had left her sensitive, needy, shaking.
“You begged,” he growled, driving into her. “But you don’t deserve it.” “Not yet.”
“Please—Ryan—please—” she sobbed. “I’ll do anything—just put it—inside—”
“No.”
She came again — a second, messier orgasm that hit her in waves, involuntary and humiliating.
He groaned behind her, fucking deeper, harder, faster — and then came. Thick, bare, deep in her ass, grinding in with a long exhale.
When he pulled out, her hole twitched open, leaking slowly.
He wiped himself clean on the inside of her thigh and leaned down to whisper:
“You need to earn my seed in your pussy.”
Then he kissed her shoulder and left the frame.
⸻
Private Overlay Update:
Subject 4 — Submission Threshold Crossed Emotional Compliance Index: 62% Anal Breeding: Confirmed (Unprotected) Vaginal Access: Still Denied Post-Climax Mental Drift: Active
⸻
Viewer Chat [Private Tier 4 Stream]:
@QuietDominion: The way she begged. Unreal. @BreedHoarder: She thought she had it. That shift was perfect. @Admin-Chris: She’s almost ready. @SeedProtocol: Her pussy’s starving. @Ryan-Control: Let her wait. Let her ache for it. @KeepItUnfinished: I want her denied again. Just before ovulation.
Scene 3: Countdown Interlude — Public Reaction
The channel never slept.
Even with Subject 3’s countdown pulsing in the corner and Sandy’s scheduled reset dominating the front page, the current flowed elsewhere now — quietly but undeniably — toward Subject 4.
Andrea.
No one used her name. They didn’t have to anymore.
⸻
#Subject4-Tracking User Status: Semi-Confirmed (Correlation Match: 94%) Current Watch Tags: @QuietNoticed, @BackRoomPour, #MallgirlDrop, #BreedWindow
⸻
Viewer Discussion Thread: “We Know It’s Her”
@LeakSniper: She begged. Out loud. That wasn’t acting. That was collapse.
@ThreadWeaver: She said Subject 3. Face blur can’t hide tone. That was her voice.
@BreedBot: She had the cognitive block. Couldn’t see his face. Confirmed programming.
@ClickToBreed: You all saw the hesitation — then the way she pushed her hips back. That was real.
⸻
Then came the message.
Quiet. Small. Posted under @QuietNoticed.
“It felt right. And I hated how much I wanted it.” “Even when he came in me, I didn’t stop him.”
The thread detonated.
⸻
@CumClock: She’s breaking. She knows she’s breaking.
@BiteMark: I want to watch her realize it while he’s still inside her.
@FuckSoftly: This is better than any scripted stream. This is a real-time rewrite.
@Admin-Chris: Observed. Logged. Escalation timeline remains green.
⸻
A few minutes later, another user appeared: @BackRoomPour
The barista.
He posted into a new thread labeled: #BaristaBackroomConfessions
“She didn’t look at my face once.” “She said ‘please’ before I ever touched her.” “She held my wrist while she came. She didn’t want me to stop.” “She was wetter than any girl I’ve ever fucked.”
The thread spiked to 1,000 likes in under an hour.
The chat flooded him with questions.
⸻
@BreedMeNext: How tight was she? Did she clench when you filled her?
@OpenWombGang: Was she scared? Or just pretending?
@BackRoomPour: She trembled before I touched her. Like she’d already lost the argument in her head. I slid inside and she gasped like she was surprised by her own heat.
@LeakSniper: Did she say stop?
@BackRoomPour: She said “please.” But not like no. Like yes, but she couldn’t admit it yet.
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