Georgia and Al Langley were not particularly friendly with their neighbors and for this reason were considered strange and "stuck up" by all of them. They were city bred, and did not conceal the fact that they found life in a small town a crashing bore. The handsome young couple in their mid-twenties had been transferred from the swinging, open atmosphere of San Francisco to this peaceful, screamingly dull place by Al's company, a computer manufacturer.
Because the transfer meant a promotion and a healthy raise in pay, Al didn't protest too much.
They stayed mostly to themselves during the week and spent every weekend in either San Francisco or Los Angeles, seeking out their own. Their own in this case signified other healthy, open minded young couples – and single attractive girls – who liked to exchange bodies and strike out in new sexual directions.
In a word, they were swappers.
But the Langleys were more adventurous than most. Anyone could swap sex partners for an evening of freewheeling fucking, but how many swingers could devise intricate, bizarre sex games and program their partners like a computer? Al was a computer programmer and the infinite number of possible sensations in the human nervous system fascinated him. You could, he discovered after experimenting on live victims like frustrated housewives and overeager secretaries, push their buttons to get almost any desired reaction in seconds. The reactions ranged from horrifying shock to unendurable torment to maddening bliss to insatiable greed, with hundreds of minor variations.
Al gradually found that the most effective method for programming lust in people was pure fear. The pain/pleasure principle was hardly new, but by stressing terror enough, he discovered that the subsequent relief from terror was practically ecstasy in itself. By balancing pain with pleasure in the proper amounts, he could program almost anyone like a dumb animal, regardless of their so called intelligence. Pushing people's buttons had almost nothing to do with brains, but everything to do with emotions. It was his personal observation that most geniuses couldn't lead a dying horse to water, while certain dimwits could make out in ten minutes flat with a complete stranger by instilling the proper emotions in their chosen victims. Not that they did it consciously, of course, but instinctively, prodded by raw desire and primitive cunning.
Fear of punishment and hope for reward was the whole key. Pain, pleasure, torture, thrill, punish, reward – the whole assault of dizzying emotions was fantastically simple. He proceeded to test his theory, with the enthusiastic aid of his pretty, hotly oversexed wife, on a number of unsuspecting guinea pigs, mainly swapping housewives and passionate singles. His theory was an overwhelming success.
He could reduce a normally healthy female with a normal sex drive into a frigid, terrified blob of flesh in twenty minutes, if I so chose. But he could also turn a healthy, passionate female into a frenzied nymphomaniac, craving sex like a drug, in less than an hour. He could train innocent girls and women very rapidly to hunger for any specific sex act or deviation. He had a "Fuck me in the mouth," and "Oh God hurry!" button he could push with ease after a brief training session, along with a "Please fuck me in the ass now!", "Spank me, whip me hurt me fast!" response, a "Fuck me until I faint or die but just fuck me!", "Suck me fuck me rape me… do what ever you want with me anything!" button, among others.
These buttons were emotional reactions which could be triggered by gesture or word, signals of threatened punishment or promised reward. Al Langley felt he was a pioneer, an unsung genius in the rarified sphere of Sexual Programming, and someday the ignorant world would appreciate him and heap laurels on him, along with Einstein and Newton and other scientific greats. Until then, he and his adoring wife continued to experiment with all the zeal of dedicated scientists. His wife, Al knew, wasn't exactly an intellectual giant herself, but he'd programmed her the very first week he'd met her so that he could merely snap his fingers and she'd rush to either blow him or submit to any whim, or best of all, rush out to pick up a young innocent girl for him. And if she was a little dim on the brain, it did not affect her stunning sexiness, or her conviction that he was a genius.
With a little training, Al had turned his wife into a feverish switch hitter, although she dug only men when she'd met him. Actually, she was far from dumb, but to Al anyone who wasn't into programming computers or people was a moron. They were all out there, waiting to be manipulated like puppets, already having their strings pulled by their employers, the government, the Internal Revenue Service, their husbands and wives and children, and just about anyone who knew the real score. All you had to do was push the right button and zap! Pussies opened wide and eager, cocks rose, loins exploded, hearts beat with fear and raging excitement, and lives were magically changed, destinies altered forever.
Al knew he had a power complex, a lust for pushing buttons and controlling everyone and everything, but it didn't bother him. What did bother him was the cause of his furious complex. He knew that the overall average length for a hard-on was precisely five and seven-eights inches, not a fraction more or less, regardless of individual quirks. He'd gotten the information straight from the most advanced computer, so he knew it had to be correct.
Al's cock was only five and one-eighths inch erect, and this bothered him profoundly. He was exactly three-quarters of an inch short with his hard-on. And while his brain was frighteningly forceful, his prick wasn't even normal, and this filthy injustice inflicted upon him by cruel Nature tormented him constantly.
No matter how many times his sultry wife told him his cock was "cute" – a word he loathed, because cute always meant there was a serious defect hidden somewhere, and cute was meant to be a saving grace – he was convinced he was inferior to other men. To prove his superiority, he began programming girls and women to adore his cock above all others, to suck it and crave it and tenderly love it above all others. He didn't always succeed – his early experiments occasionally backfired, and one girl who'd gone over the rim of sanity because of a too savage whipping chased him furiously around the bedroom with a butcher knife, trying to extend the three-quarter inch shortage of meat to at least three additional inches – but Al succeeded often enough to feel better about his meat shortage. Not good, but better.
On the surface Al looked normal enough, plain faced, lean bodied, and wearing a constant excuse me smile, which effectively hid his deep rage. People often wondered why a fantastically sexy number like his wife married him. The answer lay in programming, of course. She was a good assistant in his research, a remarkably hot, delicious fuck, a social asset because of her good looks, and even a passable cook. In rare moments of gratitude, Al rewarded her by filling her cunt with vanilla ice cream and licking it out. Even this was calculated for pain/pleasure. It felt so horrible to her when he jammed the freezing ice cream in with a spoon, that it felt twice as good when he lapped it out.
Al tried a number of techniques for lengthening his deficient cock. He'd read that a certain tribe in Africa had remarkable success in developing truly monstrous pricks by attaching weights to their cocks for long periods of time. Unfortunately, it had to be done when you were a child, when your cock was still spongy and growing. Nevertheless, he strung a lead sinker on his cock and wore it twenty-four hours a day, increasing the weight of the sinkers week by week. He was tremendously excited over the potential results at first, convinced he'd end up with a fishing pole if nothing else.
But after a month and a successful gain of only one-eighth of an inch, he found to his horror he couldn't get a hard-on any more. A specialist advised him he was not only getting a very sore cock out of his experiment, but he ran the risk of impairing the normal circulation so badly he might never get it up again. Panicked, Al threw all his lead sinkers away and put a tiny sling on his rod to give it a rest. Two weeks later, the eighth-of-an-inch growth disappeared, but to his immense relief, he could get a hard-on again.
Next, the computer programmer invented a series of prick exercises. Any muscle was capable of growth through exercise. So why not his faulty pecker? Each night his wife would very gently stretch his meat. First, a back and forth motion, then a jiggling side to side motion, followed by a forceful up and down series of jerks, finishing with a rapid circular shimmying. In addition, she made his cock touch his asshole three times, his belly three times, striving to reach his belly button, each side of his groin six times, and then rubbed it between her huge warm tits for a refreshing massage.
He never failed to get a rousing hard-on from her hot fingers and lush tits and in the end it simply proved to be another fucking session, with no enduring results.
Al refused to give up. There had to be a way to stretch his cock to the normal five-and-seven-eighths inches, maybe beyond to a powerful six inches. A firm believer in mind over matter, he next tried sheer mental power. He lay quietly in bed with his eyes closed each night and vividly imagined his prick was growing. Not simply rising long and thick, but expanding to fantastic heights of splendor in his imagination. He saw it gradually fill the whole bedroom with red, pulsating power, then the entire house, mushrooming majestically to cram the city block, then the alarmed town, the terrified state, the awed and shocked country, the whole fucking world and then the endless shattered universe!
His mind, not used to such pranks, began to play tricks on him. He became obsessed with his imagined colossal prick, seeing it knock people over in public like bowling pins, watching lush girls stop in their tracks and scream softly with uncontrolled lust at his immense hard-on. He would sit in bars and strike up casual conversations with girls on the prowl, vividly imagining himself as a five-foot-ten-inch prick, bristling with power, a huge crimson knob where his head used to be. Come to me, he would silently command, his cock body throbbing irresistibly, touch me, stroke me, suck me, fuck me, you stupid bitch! They failed to get the message.
After two weeks of such unhealthy fantasy, he started to act like a prick, so that even his adoring wife began avoiding him. And his nightly measurements showed now growth. Reluctantly, he gave up his mind over matter program. He resigned himself to a lifetime of seething inferiority, of having a rod that failed to make the grade by a humiliating but whopping three-quarters of an inch.
On this warm summer evening, he listened in on his wife's telephone call from Mrs. Moore with deep interest. They'd decided on a firm rule not to screw around with anyone in this small, conservative town because of the obvious risks. These hicks couldn't possibly understand his theory of Advanced Sexual Programming, so why bother? But when a fish leaped right into their boat, not even baited, why not try it?
"Which button are you going to push tonight, Al?" Georgia asked excitedly as she dressed in her sexiest, a simple clinging black dress that displayed her ripe cleavage and proud tits and ass. She was black haired with enormous dark eyes and a pouty, sensuous mouth. She didn't regard herself as a swinger at all, but a profoundly dedicated scientist like her husband. She was convinced that someday Al would get the Nobel Prize and as his hard working assistant she would share it with him.
"I haven't decided yet," Al said thoughtfully. "But I might do a combo tonight. I'm in the mood."
Georgia's eyes shone with anticipation. Al could devise a combination just like a pizza, so that to get the desired sex response you had only to push one button instead of two.
"How about a 'Spank me whip me hurt me fast!' with a 'Suck me fuck me rape me suck me fuck me rape me do whatever you want with me anything!' combo, Al?"
"Maybe. Just perfume your hot pussy and be ready."
They had a pitcher of fresh martinis ready when Donna Moore showed up. Both of them were very pleasantly surprised. Donna had gone to great lengths to make herself sexy too, not cheap sexy but quiet sexy, just a hint of makeup and a simple white blouse and skirt that enhanced her voluptuous curves.
Georgia was just a little disappointed over Donna's age. She accurately guessed about thirty-nine, although the lush housewife could easily pass for thirty, but this minor drawback was more than compensated for by the woman's obvious sex appeal and her explosive eagerness. Besides, Georgia had always wanted a big sister to make it with and she could easily pretend the ravishing brunette was her sister.
Donna tried to control her nervousness but she betrayed it by almost spilling her drink. She was more than pleasantly surprised by the young couple, she was tremendously excited. They seemed infinitely sleek and glamorous to her country girl mind, and the idea of actually making it with another woman, especially a sensuous, long legged and hungry eyed creature like Georgia made her throat dry and her pussy ooze hotly.
For a few minutes they chatted casually about the merits and disadvantages of living in a small town, while Al and Georgia raked her plump curves over with their eyes. Then Georgia, self-confident with long experience, nestled close to Donna on the sofa, their hips brushing, the swinger's arm resting lightly around Donna's shoulder, her lustrous eyes melting on the housewife's.
It was turn on time, and Georgia decided to dispense with a slow buildup and move in for a quick attack. The brunette was so frustrated and fired up she was trembling, already turned on by the sexy lingerie and obscene items in the box. Georgia sensed at once Donna had never made it with a woman and she was deeply, lewdly curious about it.
"Are you wearing any of the underthings now, Donna?" she asked softly, licking her lips in a hot suggestion.
"Well, yes, I borrowed the blue bra and panties," she flushed. "I-I like the feel of them, soft and… cuddly."
Georgia's lips brushed the brunette's warm throat. "Show us," she whispered. "Don't be bashful, honey. Tell you what, Donna, I'll show you what I've got on underneath and then you show me, okay?"
The swinger classified this approach as the snoopy kid game. You show me your boobies and I'll show you mine. Then you show me your cute ass and I'll match you with mine. It worked with a certain type, especially frustrated housewives. The psychology was crude, but it worked, so what the hell?
Feverish with curiosity, Donna nodded. While Al watched from a chair across the sofa, his wife stood up and slowly, provocatively slipped off her dress. Her succulent tits almost spilled out of her flimsy pink bra, the plump tan nipples jutting out from tiny openings. Donna sucked in her breath as her eyes slid down over Georgia's silken belly and narrow waist to her lushly curved hips. A soft, curly tangle of dark pussy hairs peeped through the crotchless panties.
There were lewd designs embroidered on the bra and panties, miniature figures locked in passion. A few of them showed a triangle of two women and one man, one woman crouched down to eat another while the man knelt behind her with his massive dick halfway into her pussy.
"Your turn, Donna," Georgia coaxed softly, hefting her own hot tits in her fingers.
For a minute Donna was tempted to flee, to get the hell out of here without a backward glance. Christ, she was a respectable housewife! She'd always been faithful to her husband – until this morning when that damned box showed up on her doorstep. Was it only this morning she'd feverishly gone down on the teen and then practically raped him? And now this bizarre scene, with a sultry hot eyed swinger weaving her hips obscenely in front of her while her husband watched with burning eyes..
Donna was about to blurt out that she simply couldn't go through with it, sorry, but it was all too weird for a simple country girl. Instantly, Georgia sensed her thoughts. The ripe breasted swinger moved quickly.
Panting, she knelt in front of the brunette and slid her hands beneath Donna's skirt, up along the hot flesh of her thighs, caressing lasciviously, cupping Donna's moist crotch in her palm and softly squeezing.
"Come on, sweetheart," Georgia whispered, her eyes blazing. She traced a fingertip along the brunette's soaked cunt lips and Donna moaned. "Come on, Donna," Georgia urged, "take it off honey. I'll give you the time of your life. I'll suck you off until you faint with joy, darling. Slip off your skirt now…"
Trembling with weakness, Donna unzipped her skirt and, still sitting, slipped it off. Then as Georgia ran her tongue tip teasingly over the hot flesh of her inner thighs, the fiercely aroused brunette took off her blouse.
"Oh that's a beautiful body, honey," the swinger purred, her lips tingling madly. Gently, she spread Donna's sleek thighs and watched her glistening pussy lips softly suck with lust. She brought her mouth close to Donna's hot cunt, filling her nostrils with her steaming fragrance. She pressed back on the housewife's soft belly to expose her throbbing clit bud.
Then Georgia darted out her long pink tongue and ran it across the pulsing lips, lapping up a trace of honey. Donna moaned softly and spread her legs wider, closing her eyes, waiting eagerly for the next thrill.
Oh Jesus, she thought with shame and tremendous excitement, I'm going to be sucked off by a beautiful girl and I'm dying to see what it's like! She nudged her throbbing cunt closer to Georgia's wet mouth, slipping off her high heels. Trembling furiously, she gripped the swinger's head in her hands and raised her knees so she could rest on her heels on Georgia's shoulders. Knowing how obscene she must look with her swollen tits panting eagerly and her dripping cunt begging Georgia's mouth, for one horrifying moment she wondered what her innocent family would do if they saw her right now. Especially her darling wholesome children!
"Eat me," Donna whispered urgently, her eyelids fluttering. "Please eat me – I'm so damn hot!"
Georgia quickly glanced behind her at her husband, who silently watched with a pounding hard-on straining at his pants. He nodded approval. He'd programmed his sexy wife so thoroughly she could barely take a piss without his solemn approval. He watched Georgia dig her frenzied mouth into the brunette's sucking hot pussy with deep moans of lust. Immediately, Donna screamed softly and squirmed her aching cunt madly to the swinger's lashing tongue.
"Ooooooooo! Oh God, Georgia! Unnnnnnnnnn! So-so beautiful! Aaaaaaaaaah! Oh you eat it w-wonderfully! Oh Lord, it's – I'm so – unnnnnnnnnnf! Excited, oh so gooooooood!"
Georgia barely heard the ranting. She was concentrating intensely on the delicious slit thrashing beneath her mouth, relishing the fiery juices, rolling the honey around her mouth to savor, classify, compare. The lush swinger had eaten so many frantic pussies in the past five years she had a mental filing and grading system. The scale ran from minus ten to plus ten.
Very juicy cunt, Georgia decided as she sucked on Donna's trembling clit. Texture of flesh, plus seven. Sucking power, plus six. Honey flow, plus nine. The brunette was gushing juice like a fountain. Honey flavor also nine, damn near pure nectar, sweet and hot and faintly sticky, just the way Georgia loved her pussy juice. Fragrance, plus eight, Response, a perfect ten – hell, you couldn't get more deliriously excited than this gorgeous piece, who was now issuing fierce cries of lust and swinging her boiling slit to Georgia's mouth in a fury of passion – and sheer Visual Appeal, another plus nine. All in all the sensuous brunette would come out with a very high overall rating. And Georgia took her grading very seriously indeed, since there was hell to pay from the whip and the giant dildo if any unlucky sex partner came out with an overall minus.
Unfortunately, there was also hell to pay if they came out with too high a plus score. That triggered a vicious excitement in the hungry swinger that ran out of control too often. A shame Donna was too sexy for her own good…
Knowing the screaming housewife was on the verge of a wild orgasm, Georgia slipped her tongue out of her frenzied pussy and dipped it down to slither it inside Donna's fiery asshole.
"Oooooooo! Oh Heaven! Oh Jesus! How beautiful!" Donna gasped, thrill after thrill racing through her tender asshole as Georgia wriggled her hot tongue deep and hard. Her loins were seething with urgent need, on the brink of an explosive climax, but the new thrill was so dreamy and obscenely delightful, Donna sobbed happily and crushed her ass lustfully to the swinger's mouth.
At thirty-nine, it never occurred to the shy wife that sensations like these existed. John ate her pussy from time to time, but it wasn't a lewd, tremendously exciting ritual like this, a teasing, nerve racking, utterly fantastic journey into the byroads of passion. Donna never realized her asshole could be a source of such shivering ecstasy.
Very soon, she would discover to her horror it could also be a source of unbearable torture…
While his wife ravenously ate the moaning brunette's pussy, Al stripped for action. He glared down at his erection with the familiar rage over Nature's injustice. Actually, his rigid cock was quite thick and effective in spite of the hardly noticeable shortage. Bright red with lust, it quivered with eagerness, a creamy drop seeping from his knob. Watching Georgia go down on a woman, especially a sexy item like the frantic housewife, always gave him a fierce hard-on. His sultry wife didn't just eat pussy or suck off men. She was an artist, a passionate virtuoso who put her heart in her torrid lust, who strove always to be the best. Her tongue wasn't just a tongue, it was a diabolical whip of pleasure, just as her lips were masterpieces of soft delicious teasing. Her hot gorgeous tits weren't simply an adornment, they were monuments of sensual arousal, twin teasers of tantalizing titillation and torment. Her luscious ass was more than a pair of provocative portals to plump pleasure, it was a lush, magnificent promise of profound perversion.
All these things and more, Al had poetically programmed his wife to believe so that she was the best, or damn close to it. Watching her suck and kiss and tantalize the softly screaming housewife now, who dug her heels into Georgia's shoulders like stirrups and jerked her ripe ass in a fever of excitement, Al felt a thrill of pride. He created her, starting with a dumb broad who actually thought there were only two or three ways to screw. All elementary programming.
As lustful as Georgia's appetite was with Donna's succulent hot cunt, she knew precisely when to stop sucking, exactly on the verge of the brunette's first wild orgasm. She, would leave Donna so maddeningly aroused she'd do practically anything for that elusive climax.
Georgia pulled her mouth away and stood up, panting hard.
"No!" Donna shuddered, tears stinging her eyes. "Oh, Georgia, don't stop now! I'm so close, so damn hot! Please!"
Then Donna saw with a startled shock that the swinger's husband was naked, his thick stubby cock crimson with urgency. She'd expected to have sex with both of them, but everything was happening so fast she felt dazed.
"Please!" she begged Georgia, who watched her with smoldering eyes, "Please finish – I'm so hot!"
"We'll finish, honey, in the bedroom. Come on, Donna." She held out her hand and the brunette let herself be led into their bedroom, followed by Al. He locked the bedroom door behind him, a habit. Although his programming was reliable, they did have an unfortunate incident once in San Francisco when a girl ran naked out into the street, crying hysterically, her cute ass glowing with whip lashes. Georgia managed to get her back in their apartment by telling shocked bystanders her sister was crazy, poor thing.
Georgia wrapped her arms around Donna and hugged her tight, crushing her hot tits to the brunette's and grinding her soaked cunt against her dripping crotch, keeping her intensely hot. She French kissed the housewife for a minute, firing her to a still hotter pitch.
"Before I finish eating your delicious pussy," Georgia whispered in her ear, rubbing Donna's ripe ass in her greedy fingers, "who don't you go down on me for a minute, honey? Then we'll both be smoking and we'll sixty-nine. All right?"
Donna nodded feverishly, barely aware of Al in the background. She felt tremendously guilty and excited and curious all at once, eager to do something so shocking and forbidden the obscene memory would haunt – and thrill – her during the long monotonous days in the peaceful town.
The swinger placed her ass on the edge of the bed and leaned back on her elbows, spreading her thighs wide. Her pink wet cunt shone lewdly through the slit in her sheer panties, weaving lustily as she undulated her hips in a dance.
When Donna hesitated, Georgia whispered, "Come on, honey, it's delicious, really! Yours is so hot and juicy, just like mine, so yummy, darling. Come on now, kneel down and nibble on my little pink feast, you know you're going to love it, so delicious and squirmy and hot, mmmmmmm! Come get it, baby…"
Hypnotized by Georgia's eagerly sucking cunt, Donna fell to her knees and hunched between, the velvety thighs. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart beat wildly against her ribs. A whiff of perfumed heat struck her nostrils and with a soft moan she fell forward, kissing the fiery cunt lips. Her moans grew deeper and wilder and Donna began burrowing her mouth in a lust frenzy to Georgia's juicy slit, her hands clutching the swinger's hot ass.
It was good! It was fantastically delicious to her lips, a mass of writhing wet sex, sucking lewdly at her lapping tongue, Georgia's burning thighs locked to her cheeks.
Good God, I'm eating cunt and I love it! thought Donna, shocked and trembling with wanton excitement. She kissed and sucked and lapped deep with her eager tongue, tingles of obscene relish sparking in her mouth as Georgia's boiling honey began to flow.
"Oh good girl!" Georgia gasped, rocking her ass feverishly. "Oh honey, can you eat it! Oooooooo, hot loving lips! Crazy tongue unnnnnnnnnnnngh! Lick my asshole, quick!"
As Donna hurried to obey, Al calmly adjusted the focus on the Polaroid and snapped. He took a full series of vivid color shots and slipped a new pack in the camera. Not only were they for his vast collection – possibly the best collection in the state, bringing back fond memories on dull nights when he and his wife chuckled over them, like happy family memories – but the shots would come in very handy as part of the programming process. More fear, more panic, more desperation, greater anxiety, more effective results.
Besides, he and Georgia were getting bored during the week in this hick town and the pictures were insurance that Donna Moore wouldn't get Housewife's Remorse, a common affliction among beginners. From the way she was whimpering and digging her frantic mouth to Georgia's thrashing cunt, it didn't seem likely at the moment. But once they got heavily into the punishment aspect she would have a swift change of mind.
"Oh you loving oooooo! Cunt sucking angel, you!" cried Georgia, jerking her pussy savagely to Donna's mouth. "Ah! Oh! Ooooooo! Love your crazy tongue! Wild lips! Suck harder, deeper, faster, commiiiiiinnnnng! Eeeee!"
Donna was on the verge of fingerfucking herself while she ravenously devoured the swinger's juicy slit. Her excitement was so great her own pussy felt as if it would explode any moment. There was cunt honey all over her face, smeared like a mask of lust, and her perspiring tits and ass weaved and bounced with obscene fervor.
If Georgia tasted this fantastically exciting and delicious, what would Jenny's pussy be like? Would her own luscious daughter scream and gush boiling nectar into her mouth deliriously and sob praise on her?
Only when Georgia came a half-dozen times in a row, fucking Donna's greedy mouth with violent lunges of her hips, did she push the brunette's blazing lips away from her crotch.
"You did – whew! – wonderful, Donna! You're absolutely a joy, a born pussy eater, darling."
Donna smiled…
Georgia was in ecstasy.
"My turn now," Donna whispered urgently, standing up. "If I don't come soon I'll lose my mind!"
"You may lose it anyway," Georgia chuckled, getting up from the bed. Donna followed her with her eyes as the swinger went to the closet. But she didn't open the door. For the first time the dazed brunette noticed an odd steel frame in the corner of the room, about seven feet high. It was on casters. Casually, as though she did it every night, Georgia rolled the huge frame out to a large bare space between the bed and dresser. Chains dangled from all four corners of the frame.
At first, Donna was intensely curious. Lord, this was such fun! No longer the dreary, bored housewife thumbing through ladies' magazines and clipping out recipes, but a daring adventurer in the glittering, wanton world of sex.
"Now you just step up to the frame, honey, and spread your arms and legs out like a skydiver," Georgia told her. "Or is it muff diver? Come on now, sweetheart, and I'll suck your cunt off until you go crazy with happiness."
"But – why? You don't have to chain me, Georgia! I'll do anything you two want – that's why I came over here, for fun and games!"
"Shhhhhh," the swinger purred, stepping close to caress one of Donna's lush hot tits. "We're just going to give you a wee spanking. It won't even hurt, honey, just a itty bitty fanny paddling for being naughty."
She ground her silken, steaming cunt to Donna's and the housewife felt her will weaken. They were definitely weird, but a little spanking wouldn't hurt… She obeyed, feeling strangely helpless and humble as Al and Georgia lopped the manacles around her wrists and ankles.
Al stood before her, his meat bristling with crimson power, his head nodding with satisfaction. "Work her panties down, Georgia, so her beautiful ass is bare." Al picked up the vicious black whip, caressing it lovingly with his fingertips. "You are indeed naughty, Mrs. Moore, and your punishment is just. Fortunately for you, wickedness can be purged. Say after me, I am naughty and I must be punished. Say it!"
Donna gaped at him with horror. He was a nut! "But I'm not naughty, Goddammit!" the brunette protested, squirming her naked flesh now with quivers of both lust and fear. "And don't talk to me like I'm a six-year-old!"
Behind her, Georgia was kneeling and rolling her panties down halfway along her thighs, pausing to kiss each creamy cheek with tenderness, licking the hot flesh hungrily.
Al twitched the whip in his fingers to make Donna gasp with rising terror. Hell, he wasn't going to spank her with that… was he?
"If I speak to you as though you're a six-year-old, it's because you are a six-year-old emotionally, Mrs. Moore." He assumed a patient lecturing tone, but the strange glint in his eyes chilled her blood, a burning gleam that suggested he might be just a trifle unbalanced. He had that horrible God-like look of terrifying power.
For the first time Donna realized how utterly helpless she was, chained to the bizarre frame like a crucifixion.
"You wouldn't put yourself in such a ridiculous position with perfect strangers unless you are an emotional infant," Al went on, shaking his head sadly. "You must be punished because pain is a cathartic, a purge for your childish notion that life is a jolly romp in the hay, all fun and games."
As if to emphasize their craziness, Georgia was now softly biting Donna's lush ass with tiny whimpers of delight. She gathered up folds of satiny hot flesh in her mouth and licked it obscenely. Al called it her anal fixation, but whatever the label, she loved big, juicy asses like this, adored kissing and biting and sucking and spanking and whipping creamy mounds like Donna's.
Al said it was a mammary fixation, a tit obsession that transferred to asses because those cheeks were more ample and thus represented greater security. She was always fascinated by his elaborate and brilliant explanations, and believed everything he said. It never occurred to her sex saturated, simple mind that he might be completely full of shit.
"If you hurt me I'll scream my head off!" Donna sobbed, tugging at her chains. "I swear I'll get the whole neighborhood over here!"
"A waste of time," he told her, grinning. "The bedroom is acoustically tiled so they can't hear you. Take your punishment with nobility and courage, Donna. It is for your own good, my dear."
"I'll call the police afterward!" Donna struggled desperately against her chains now as his wife licked her asshole with deep, lewd strokes of her burning tongue, thrilling her while Al tormented her with suspense. It was all calculated, all part of the programming ritual.
"You will not," he told her flatly. "You came over here of your own free will, Mrs. Moore. If you claim you were forced, I'll simply show them these."
He returned from the dresser and held out each Polaroid snapshot in front of her shocked eyes. They were incredibly obscene, with Donna burrowing her mouth to Georgia's soaked cunt like a starving animal, squeezing the swinger's ripe tits in her fingers. Anyone would recognize her even though some of her features were obscured. Two or three of the pictures showed Donna's face very clearly when she'd come up for air, her pink tongue licking lustfully at the cunt honey on her cheeks.
"Oh my God," Donna whispered, beginning to cry. "I'll-I'll do anything, I swear I will… But let me have those pictures," she begged. "Anything!"
"You have to earn these pictures, Donna," he said softly. "You have to obey every instruction to the precise letter. Then we'll see about the pictures." He spoke to his ass licking wife, who was cooing over Donna's satiny big cheeks. "Spank her, Georgia."
Thus the actual programming process began. Standing up behind Donna, the swinger began to feverishly spank the brunette's hot ass, bringing sharp cries to Donna's lips. Georgia watched in fascination as their creamy plumpness turned to a bright pink, as the lush mounds wiggled and quivered and danced beneath her savage fingers.
"Now say after me," Al intoned. "I love being spanked because I deserve it. I beg to be spanked, because it secretly thrills me. Very soon I will no longer distinguish between spanking and orgasms, between pain and pleasure. Say it!"
Between racking sobs, the brunette repeated his words. They were insane, both of them! She could hear Georgia's low groans of ecstasy behind her as she spanked Donna, as though she were coming from the ritual. Lord, get me out of this crazy mess, the housewife prayed silently, and I swear I'll never screw around again, never!
As if on cue, the swinger stopped spanking her, panting torridly. She hadn't actually come but she was only a pussy hair away from a molten climax. Jesus, what a hot darling ass! She couldn't wait to strap on her new dildo and fuck the luscious brunette half to death! That always gave Georgia a shattering hot climax, a strange profound release. Al said she had a penis envy complex too. Al should know, shouldn't he? After all, he had a penis.
"Now say after me," Al told the madly trembling brunette, stepping to the side of the steel frame and holding the whip loosely poised for action. "'Spank me, whip me, because I deserve it and I crave it. Whip me, whip me, whip me, until I faint from pure joy.' Say, 'Spank me whip me hurt me fast!' Say it!"
Donna braced herself with terror. "But I don't want to be whipped!" she cried. "I don't want – aaaaaaaaaaargh!"
He brought the whip down in a savage blur on her bare ass, leaving crimson welts. "Spank me whip me hurt me fast!"
This time, Donna sobbed it out, praying for release from these maniacs. Crazy or not, Al knew exactly what he was doing, and it worked. By using the power of suggestion on her when she was in a state of tenor, having her dutifully repeat what he wanted her to believe, it was effectively being programmed into her brain cells. Those neurons in her brain which involved the learning process were most vulnerable in a state of raw fear. Whether she believed it now or not made absolutely no difference in the outcome. Instructions were being programmed into her brain cells under tremendous emotional stress, etched into her mind like trails of acid. It was only a subtle refinement of brainwashing techniques, but Al knew deep in his heart that someday the world would recognize him as the holy father of Advanced Sexual Programming.
"Very good," Al told her after she'd repeated the phrase a dozen times. "Now say, Al I absolutely must blow you because your prick is so thrillingly huge, oh so gigantic. Say it!"
Donna was about to blurt out that his cock wasn't big at all, almost stubby in fad, but mercifully her instincts warned her. His eyes were hot and defiant on her, waiting for any slight error. Had she stumbled then, her ass would have been ground beef in two minutes. She repeated the childish phrase, her quivering buttocks tensed for the next cruel sting.
"Good," Al told her, satisfied. Keeping the whip poised in one hand, he reached up with the other and unsnapped one bolt on the manacle linking her wrist. Her wrist wasn't released but the chain could be moved down and adjusted in a different position. Now Al adjusted both linked wrists to be on a level with her shoulders.
"Kneel," he ordered, and she hurried to obey. His throbbing red cock loomed before her lips, oozing a little cream.
"You may commence blowing me, Mrs. Moore, but you must follow my instructions exactly." The whip hovered behind her back, unseen but the thongs trailed her naked ass suspensefully. Donna waited for his instructions, her tits panting with fear, her eyes riveted to his short fat rod and bushy groin, his fuzzy swollen balls. Georgia watched a few feet from her husband, rubbing her sleek thighs eagerly.
"When I give your lovely ass a light tap thusly," – he brought the lashes down just hard enough to make her yelp, a teasing but painful sting – "you will immediately cease sucking me off and say 'Spank me whip me hurt me fast!' Then you will return to your efforts. When I give you two light reminders like this," – he stung her ass twice in rapid succession, hurting her more than last time – "then you say 'I cannot live without you, adorable big dick.' Repeat those phrases now, please."
Of all the silly, insane, asshole ideas! But there was no mistaking the fierce blaze of sincerity in his eyes. He was crazier than an escaped lunatic, but she was helplessly chained and at his utter whim and mercy. If she laughed now, her chances of having her sanity survive were slight. She repeated the nutty comment, remembering the Polaroid pictures. Good God, if John or the children ever saw those!
"Okay," he nodded, glancing at his wife who'd gone to the dresser and was now strapping on the harnessed, gigantic dildo with a look of diabolical lust on her face. She wouldn't be able to use it until Al was finished with the luscious housewife, but she may as well be ready to swing. She noted that Al was using a combination – programming of whipping – addiction and cock – infatuation, his cock of course. That was the only weakness in his armor of genius, his funny obsession that something was wrong with his prick. Well, it was a little short, but damned if she'd ever mention it to him! In fact, she continually complained to him he'd have to be very careful when he fucked her because his huge cock tore her pussy and tender asshole up. Fat chance! But Georgia wasn't half as dumb as her husband thought.
"Begin sucking," Al told Donna. Trembling with fright, the brunette grasped his burning meat in her mouth and began blowing him feverishly, using her lips and tongue to try and coax his jism out of him as fast as possible. In spite of her fear, lust was building up in her blood at the thick, pulsing heat of his prick in her mouth. Just this morning she'd sucked off a teen on her knees, and she was actually beginning to like the humiliating position.
The whip thongs flailed warningly across her ass once.
"Spank me whip me hurt me fast!" Donna gasped, then rushed to grab his quivering meat again in her mouth.
Two seconds later Al brought the whip down viciously across her trembling ass cheeks and Donna screamed in her throat, pulling her mouth off his dick.
"Don't stop sucking!" he roared, continuing to lash her glowing red ass relentlessly. "You just asked me to do this, remember? Keep blowing, dammit!"
Tears streaming from her eyes, the shocked brunette again whipped her mouth back and forth on his rod, intense bolts of pain shooting through her buttocks. When he suddenly stopped whipping her, she felt almost blissful with relief. Then two short stings of the whip on her ass and she hastily told him she couldn't live without his massive rod.
For ten minutes the pain shocked brunette sucked him off furiously, every minute or so punctuated by brutal lashes on her naked ass, the associations of her sex torture and the strange phrases she was forced to repeat sinking deep into the recesses of her mind.
Georgia watched the depraved spectacle with feverish excitement, almost tempted to take off the colossal curved prick she wore and ram it up her own throbbing cunt. Jesus, the brunette was a statuesque hunk, so obscenely sexy with her panties halfway down her thighs, her bare gorgeous ass glowing a hot red, her luscious tits bouncing in time to her frantic sucking!
The cords were standing out on Al's neck and Georgia knew he was trying not to come. But those sultry, madly sucking lips could drain the juice out of anyone with frenzied lust, as the swinger knew. Her pussy still throbbed deliciously from Donna's hungry laps and kisses. The poor thing was really confused now, on fire with frustration because she'd been left deliriously primed and hot and now racked with sex torture from Al's whipping. It wouldn't be long before she couldn't come without the ass torment Al was such a genius.
"Sh-shit!" Al exploded, fucking the brunette's tight fiery mouth with brutal drives. The blazing suction of her lips and wild swirling of her tongue on his meat was beginning to force his cream out in power bursts, draining him with electrifying [missing text].
"Hot – unf! -Fucking mouth! Christ Gooooood! Wild! Mmmmmm, beautiful b-aaaaah! Blowjob! Yess!"
And Al rewarded her with a final furious assault of the whip on her crimson ass, bringing muffled screams from her jism filled throat. Heaving for breath, he stepped back with satisfaction. Her head hung down and her lush tits twitched and dangled, dripping perspiration. She cried steadily now.
"Excellent," Al told her, walking behind her. Test time? He suddenly tapped her trembling ass once, sharply. Donna's head jerked, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Spank me whip me hurt me fast!" she gasped.
The button had been pushed, the reaction perfect, and phase one of his programming was completed with efficiency. He acknowledged Georgia's purr of admiration with a brief nod of his head. It was only the beginning. His programming had to be so flawless that he could walk up behind her on the street, spank her ass cheeks twice sharply and she would cry out in public that she loved his big adorable cock and couldn't live without it.
There was a eighteen-year-old blonde he'd programmed in San Francisco so thoroughly that he could pinch one of her nipples in public and she would automatically cry out that if he didn't fuck her on the spot she would die of sheer frustration. A perfect subject, the blonde, a masterpiece of Advanced Sexual Programming. Unfortunately, in those early experimental days he had a tendency to overdo it, and the sexy teenager was so over programmed that anyone could pinch her nipple anytime and she'd cry out the same thing. And she'd mean it, since her cunt would automatically secrete juice and throb urgently in a reflex response. He wondered who was pinching her now…
The unsung genius of lust signaled his wife that she could take over for a while, indulging her own strange brand of pleasure. Happily, Georgia wheeled a short step ladder around in front of the sobbing brunette. Donna slowly looked up, an expression of her horror on her face. Good God, the monstrous prick that had come in the package! It hovered out from Georgia's crotch in a massive curve, obscenely realistic with its giant crimson knob.
"Lord, you're not going to…" Donna shook her head in disbelief. Fooling playfully around with it by yourself was one thing, but actually being fucked by that colossal ram! "You'd rip me in two with that monster!"
"Oh pooh," the swinger chuckled, adjusting Donna's manacled wrists on the frame so that she was standing tall again with her arms and legs outstretched. "You'll learn to love this baby more than your own husband's dick, honey. This is the ultimate solution to the hot housewife's never ending problem, Donna. And you're hotter than a firecracker, aren't you, sweetie? Pussy all dripping and on fire?"
Donna nodded miserably. She was terrified, her ass still burned intensely from the brutal whipping, but she couldn't deny her cunt was throbbing fiercely, demanding immediate satisfaction.
"Georgia will fix you," she whispered, squeezing her tits to Donna's ripe mounds as she reached around to unsnap her bra. Georgia flung it aside and brought the short ladder close. She used it for both comfort and angle, so that she could rest her own ass while she teased the helpless brunette savagely and also so she could get as much of the battery operated prick as possible inside Donna's slit, working it in deep and hard from below.
But first it was tease torment and titillate time again. She sat on the edge of the short ladder and clutched one of the brunette's satiny big tits in her fingers, groping the hot flesh lewdly as she sucked on the fat nipple. Sweet juicy tits! Given a blunt choice, Georgia would have an unbearable time choosing between beautiful hot tits like these and Donna's luscious ass. But the sight of any stiff cock or pink pussy would instantly solve her problem.
She was hot for anything.
"Don't-don't tease me any more, please!" Donna begged in tears, trembling deliriously. "Just one climax, Georgia, just one small orgasm! So hot, I'm so damn aroused!"
But the feverish swinger worked her other tit over first, using her burning lips and tongue and fingers to greedily explore and savor. Al lay comfortably back on the bed with a fresh pack of film in his Polaroid, starting to snap a new series of pictures. Terrific model, the housewife. Her lush creamy tits and ass and tormented expression came out beautifully in color. And it was doubly exciting with her panties still halfway down her thighs, as if she was so maddeningly hot she couldn't take time to undress. Watching her naked, silky ass cheeks trembling and glowing now, Al felt his prick begin to rise again. No doubt her asshole would be tight and juicy too, still slippery from Georgia's tongue.
No matter which crack Georgia wet down with her lusty mouth, pussy or anus, it was soaked through and primed for furious action. Her tongue was so fiery it should have come with an inflammable sign.
"Don't tease!" Donna wailed now, jerking her throbbing cunt in frantic spasms as Georgia sucked on her bellybutton. Dipping her head down low, the panting swinger lapped at her drenched cunt for a minute, a brief taste of honey. Then she positioned her ass on the ladder for heavy action. She dipped two fingers into Donna's pussy and smeared her lavish juice over the head and length of the dildo. Facing Donna she nudged only the head of the massive prick against her cunt lips, softly teasing. Reaching beneath the cock, she switched the battery on and it leaped and quivered with humming power.
"Ooooooo, shove it in! God, Georgia, shove it in now!Fuck me, honey, oh please fuck me – so goddamn hot!"
While the vibrating dick head tortured her pussy lips, Georgia grasped one of Donna's swollen nipples in her fingers, rolling it lewdly.
"I'll fuck you, Donna. But first repeat this three times, slowly and clearly: 'Suck me fuck me rape me mmmmmmmmmmmmmm!'"
Gasping, the brunette repeated the strange phrase three times, aware only of her madly aching cunt – and Georgia's fingers teasing her nipple. Her taut nipple would soon be no more than a push button sparking a ferocious lust in her blood.
This second phase of her programming would take more repetition than the first, at least half an hour.
"Good girl," Georgia told her. She grabbed Donna's velvety soft hips in her hands and braced them. "Ready? Get set? Go!"
In one furious lunge the eager swinger rammed more than half the humming monster deep in Donna's tight cunt. For a long moment the brunette's eyes rolled and her helpless body shuddered fiercely from head to toe as the spiked prick tore savagely into her loins. Electrifying thrills shot through Donna's pussy like shock waves, roaring in her blood, screaming at her nerves, rocking her mind precariously, tingling every inch of her sweating, quivering flesh.
Her lips moved soundlessly for a minute and she shook her head in disbelief. "G-g-good Gg-godddddddd!" she finally shrieked.
Then she fainted.