Master PC: Breeding Edition
Copyright© 2025 by North Point
Chapter 6: Public Use, Private Game
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 6: Public Use, Private Game - 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 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: Triggered in Public
Sandy couldn’t put her finger on when the change started.
It was subtle at first — a little extra warmth in her thighs while waiting in line at the café, a faint, slow pulse between her legs as she browsed through the produce section at the grocery store. She chalked it up to being in a good mood, to lingering afterglow from recent nights, or maybe even the hormonal leftovers of a cycle she hadn’t bothered to track.
But over the following days, the feelings sharpened.
And they weren’t just random anymore.
They happened in public.
Always in public.
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On Monday, she stopped for coffee after a morning walk. The café was busy, the line stretched past the door, and the barista was working fast but smiling as he handed out drinks. Sandy stood near the back, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The hem of her workout shorts rode high on her hips, and her sports bra clung tighter than usual.
She didn’t notice the way two men looked at her — not directly. But something in her body did.
Her nipples began to harden under the thin fabric, the friction of the bra making them ache in a way that sent a shiver up her spine. By the time she reached the counter, she was damp. Not sweaty. Wet.
She sat outside and tried to sip her drink like nothing was wrong, but her thighs were pressed tight, her nipples stiff and sensitive, and the seat beneath her had warmed from more than just the sun.
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Private Channel Clip: “Café Surge”
@ArousalWatch: “Her tits were screaming through that top.” @StimLeak: “Breast response at 11:37. Micro-orgasm at 11:43. Rewatch that shift.” @Confirmed: “Marking her for sidewalk escalation.”
Tag: Subject 3 – Passive Public Trigger Status: Subconscious Arousal Confirmed
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On Wednesday, it happened again — worse.
She was in the changing room at a boutique, trying on a flowy little summer dress. Something she’d normally never pick — short, sheer in the right light, with a neckline that dared to slip.
She didn’t know why she’d grabbed it.
She didn’t even remember choosing it.
But the moment she pulled it down over her breasts and looked at herself in the mirror, something inside her cracked.
The dress hugged her hips perfectly. Her nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric — erect, pink, begging to be touched.
She stared at her reflection, frozen.
Her breathing quickened.
Her thighs squeezed together. Her pussy throbbed.
She felt hot. Desperate. Like her body had tricked her into walking into this trap.
She turned around, faced the mirror again, and watched as her hand slid up under the hem.
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It wasn’t a conscious decision.
It was instinct. Reflex.
Her fingers found her clit instantly, swollen and aching, slick with need. She bit her lip hard to keep from making noise, leaning back against the wall, letting the dress fall halfway off her shoulder.
Her nipples rubbed against the fabric with every breath, the stimulation sharp and maddening.
But what pushed her over wasn’t the mirror or her fingers or even the pressure building inside her.
It was the sudden, vivid images that filled her mind:
Marcus pulling off the condom mid-thrust, groaning as he came inside her. Trent ignoring her pleas, driving deep until she cried out and clenched around the heat of his release. Alex’s cock bare and wet, pulling out with a string of cum still dripping from her pussy.
They flooded her — all of them.
And she came hard, eyes squeezed shut, her orgasm crashing through her in waves.
She caught the sound in her palm, teeth gritted, body bucking once against the wall.
When it passed, she stood there panting, dress still half on, legs shaking.
She stared at herself in the mirror, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
And she didn’t understand why she felt so ... full.
Or why she wished someone had seen.
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Private Channel Clip: “Changing Room Breederloop”
@BreedVision: “Confirmed: creampie memory triggers climax. All 3 synced.” @DataSplit: “Tracking vaginal pulse + nipple pressure = 98% climax prediction accuracy.” @ViewerTag: “First public orgasm caught on camera. She’s ready.”
Tag: Subject 3 – Triggered Recall Event Status: Field Conditioning Stable
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Two days later, she visited the library.
It was supposed to be a quiet morning — headphones in, a research tab open, a soft breeze moving through the open atrium windows.
She wore a pale cardigan and a short black skirt — something casual, just long enough to pass.
But when she sat down to read, her posture shifted without her realizing. Her knees slowly parted beneath the table, just wide enough that anyone across the aisle could see the smooth length of her thighs. The fabric of her top stretched as she leaned forward, nipples brushing against cotton with every shallow breath.
She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs more than once.
She touched her neck. Adjusted her shirt. Bit her lip without knowing.
The man across from her didn’t say a word.
But he lifted his phone.
And the angle was perfect.
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Private Channel Clip: “Library Unwrap”
@ShelfHeat: “She had no idea. Look at the nipple shift when she stretches.” @BreedSet: “Her body’s performing. She’s reading pregnancy blogs and doesn’t even know it.” @StaffFlag: “Scheduled corridor encounter approved.”
Tag: Subject 3 – Exhibition Reflex Trigger Status: Field Exposure Tier 2
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The Program had rewritten her triggers.
Chris had done it quietly, overnight — a subtle hormonal tweak, a buried neurochemical response — nothing she could trace back to him, nothing she could explain even to herself.
Her arousal was now tied to being seen. To being watched. To being near strangers who might glance too long, who might imagine more.
And her wardrobe?
That was changing too.
She’d donated most of her old jeans without thinking — said they didn’t fit right anymore. Her new ones were tighter. Shorter. More skin, more cling, more chances to be noticed.
Her skirts got higher.
Her blouses more transparent.
She wore less makeup but more lip gloss.
Every outfit said look at me — and she didn’t even realize she was saying it.
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Chris watched the changes unfold from a distance.
He didn’t interfere.
He didn’t need to.
He saw the heatmaps from The Program’s sensors — how often her nipples reacted to ambient attention, how many times she adjusted her shirt, crossed her legs, rubbed discreetly through her clothes.
She didn’t know what she was becoming.
But the audience did.
And very soon, she wouldn’t just be watched.
She’d be used.
Scene 2: Public Breeding with Strangers
Sandy had started to think something was wrong with her.
The heat she’d been feeling in public places — the way her thighs stayed slick, her nipples always aching — it wasn’t going away. It didn’t fade when she went home. If anything, it got worse the longer she tried to ignore it.
She’d begun carrying an extra pair of panties in her bag. Just in case.
Her body wasn’t just turned on. It was primed.
Always ready.
Always wanting.
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She blamed the changing weather.
Or the way men looked at her now — more eyes, more smiles, more casual touches when they brushed past her in tight spaces.
She tried to avoid temptation.
But sometimes, it found her anyway.
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Encounter One: The Alley
The first time it happened, she was walking home through a narrow side street she didn’t usually take. The alley was empty, quiet, dappled in golden light filtering between buildings.
Her tank top clung to her back with sweat. Her shorts rode high. Every movement reminded her how wet she already was.
She heard footsteps before she saw him.
“Hot day,” the man said, stepping into view — tall, clean-shaven, with a deep voice and calm eyes.
“Yeah,” she replied, brushing past, trying to stay polite.
But when he looked at her — really looked — something in her stopped. Froze. That same low pulse between her legs fired off, sharp and sudden.
He took a half-step closer.
“You look like you need something.”
She should’ve walked away. She didn’t.
“Maybe,” she said quietly.
“Here?” he asked.
Her breath caught. “I don’t know.”
He reached for her hand. Not rough, not forceful — just firm.
And she let him lead her toward the wall.
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The kiss came first — slow, exploratory, his hand cupping her jaw, the other sliding along her waist. She gasped when he pressed into her, feeling the thick outline of his cock against her hip.
“You’re soaked,” he whispered, fingertips slipping beneath her waistband. “Didn’t even touch you yet.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered back, cheeks flushed.
But she didn’t stop him when he pulled her shorts down, just enough.
Didn’t protest when he bent her forward against the brick, lifted her hips, and freed his cock.
“Please use a—” she started, voice shaking.
He didn’t.
He thrust into her bare, slow and deep.
She cried out, her body clenching involuntarily around him.
Each stroke was sharp, filthy, loud — skin on skin in the alley’s echoing quiet. His hand slid under her top, palming her breast, fingers teasing her nipple into stiffness.
“You’re gonna let me do this?” he growled into her ear. “Right here?”
She nodded, helpless, grinding back into him.
When he came — a sudden, shuddering release — she felt him pulse deep inside her.
And she came too, body locking, walls squeezing around the heat spilling into her.
Neither said anything for several seconds.
Then he zipped up. Smiled.
“Thanks,” he said, and vanished around the corner.
⸻
Sandy stood frozen against the wall, eyes wide, hands trembling. The back of her thighs were sticky, her panties twisted awkwardly, a dull ache blooming in her hips.
She could feel his cum starting to drip down the inside of her leg.
She pulled her shorts back up slowly, flinching as the wet fabric clung to her skin. Her breathing was shallow, her heart pounding.
She should’ve been horrified.
But all she could feel was need — deep, aching, unsatisfied need.
And underneath it, something colder.
What if he got me pregnant?
The thought flashed across her mind and refused to leave.
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Private Channel Commentary: “Alley Flood – Viewer #239”
@SeedRunner: “She asked for a condom after he was inside her. Love it.” @FlagRisk: “Luteal phase confirmed. Risk still viable.” @StreamAdmin: “Viewer 239: Approved. Load registered.”
Tag: Subject 3 – Breeding Protocol Activated Status: Public Insemination Logged
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Encounter Two: The Stairwell
Two days later, she took the stairs to clear her head.
She wasn’t working — just cutting through a building on her way to lunch. The stairwell was cool, dim, almost too quiet.
She was halfway up when she heard a voice from above.
“You okay?”
She looked up. Another man — lean, athletic, maybe early 30s — descending slowly.
“I’m fine,” she said, catching her breath.
“You looked flushed.”
She laughed nervously. “It’s hot out.”
He stopped a few steps above her, eyes lingering on her legs.
“You’re really pretty,” he said.
That was it.
No pickup line. No aggression.
Just the kind of compliment that made something in her stomach twist.
“I—” she started, then hesitated.
He stepped down, slowly.
“If I kissed you right now, would you slap me?”
She didn’t move.
He kissed her.
And she kissed him back.
⸻
The stairwell was cold, but her skin burned.
He pulled her dress up. She didn’t stop him.
She felt his fingers skim her panties — soaked, barely holding together — and gasped when he tugged them aside.
“You’re wet already?”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Please—”
But her body leaned into him.
His cock brushed against her folds, hard, ready, bare.
“No, you can’t—” she tried, voice faltering.
“I need to feel you,” he whispered into her ear. “I need to fill you.”
She shook her head. “We can’t...”
He pushed inside.
Her breath caught.
And she stopped resisting.
⸻
She moaned louder than she meant to — not out of pain, but relief.
He drove into her like he knew her, one hand cupping her ass, the other groping her tits under her dress.
Sandy’s head fell back. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so deep—”
“You want it,” he groaned. “Your pussy knows.”
She nodded, hips jerking back into him.
When he came, it was with a low grunt, hips tight against her ass, his cock twitching as thick heat filled her.
She came again — barely able to stand — her knees trembling.
He tucked himself away, pulled her skirt down, and kissed her forehead like they’d shared a secret.
⸻
She waited until he was gone before slumping down onto the step.
Her legs ached. Her pussy throbbed. She could still feel him inside her — the heat, the pressure, the slow leak between her thighs.
She pressed her hand against her lower belly, wincing.
She didn’t know why she let it happen.
Didn’t know why it felt so right even as fear crept into her spine.
This isn’t safe, she thought. I’m going to get pregnant if this keeps happening.
But even as she stood and straightened her dress, she felt another throb between her legs.
And she wanted it again.
⸻
Private Channel Commentary: “Stairwell Slide – Viewer #402”
@PulseFeed: “That second orgasm was real. Her knees gave out.” @NeckSnap: “Her cervix pulled him in. Watch the tilt.” @AdminFlag: “Viewer 402: Load confirmed. High-quality session.”
Tag: Subject 3 – Cumulative Exposure Tier 2 Status: Channel Engagement: High
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