The door to the building across the street opened from the inside. I sat up and peered through the eyepiece of the telescope, examining the warmly dressed figure descending the steps. It was her. The drab grey overcoat hid the curves of her nubile young body from view, and the wide-brimmed hat she wore shielded her face, but the cascade of blond hair flowing down her back, as well as the youthful spring in her step, gave her away.

I swiveled the telescope to follow her as she walked down the street, trying to figure out where she was going. Up until now, she'd only left the apartment to go to work, either at one of her photo shoots or at one of her temp jobs, or to go shopping. I had her phone tapped, and had kept track of her appointments, so I knew when she went to work. This wasn't one of those times. So it must be shopping. But the stores she went to were in the other direction. So... something else? May be it was a date. It was possible she could have arranged a date with someone without a phone call being involved. Unlikely, but possible.

I kept her in view until she disappeared down a side street three blocks away. I grabbed my coat and hat. Locking the door of the hotel room behind me, I rushed downstairs and out onto the street. Casually but briskly, I walked down to the intersection where she'd disappeared. No sign of her.

I thought for a moment, weighed the odds in my mind, and decided to wait. So I took up a position leaning against a building, watching the side street that my quarry had disappeared down.

Two hours later, after the sun had set and the streetlights had come on, she reappeared, coming out of a bar. She moved a bit less surely than usual, as though she'd had a bit to drink. I followed her at a distance of half a block until she reached her apartment building and re-entered it. Smiling to myself with the satisfaction of a mystery solved, I crossed the street to my hotel.

She began to frequent the bar, going there approximately every other night, always emerging a bit tipsy. I started going to the bar regularly as well, keeping an unobtrusive eye on her. The bar was not one of the upscale yuppie joints, but rather an old neighborhood establishment, catering to older men. As a result, she had to fend off a lot of passes from balding men with expansize waistlines. I found it amusing.

After watching this for four or five nights, establishing my bona fides as a regular patron, I made my move. My eyes were fixed on her as I strode across the room from my regular booth to the bar where she sat. Setting my drink down on the bar, I sat on the stool next to her.

She looked up from her drink, causing her lustrous blond hair to shimmer in the subdued light of the bar. I almost lost my breath as I look at her face. I'd seen it before in pictures, and from a distance, but never up close and in the flesh. She was stunning. I was pleased. Later on, almost any other aspect of the body could be modified, but the face had to be good from the start.

"Hi," she said, a smile creeping across that captivating face. I'm not bad-looking, if I do say so myself, and I was a good bit younger than the average suitor. Her ocean-blue eyes twinkled in the light.

"Hi," I responded. "I'm not very good with pickup lines, so I'll just have to tell you that you're incredibly beautiful."

She laughed a bit. "Thank you. That's very flattering." Modesty, of course; she couldn't possibly think she was anything less than gorgeous.

"I'm Alan."

"Suzanne."

We got off to a pretty good start. She told me she was unemployed at the moment, temping and trying to get some part- time modeling work. I made a few jokes about the sorts of jobs you get from temp agencies, and she laughed and agreed with me. I bought her a drink, casually slipping a pinch of white powder into it. As the conversation progressed, she opened herself up more and more to me.

She had grown up in a small town in Montana. At age eighteen, she'd left to go to college in Michigan, majoring in "media arts." After school, she'd moved to New York City, where she'd worked for about a year as a catalog model for a few local depeartment stores, making a decent living. It was a week-to-week type of existence; she didn't have any contracts, but she'd been getting quite a lot of offers for short jobs. She'd been well on her way to a successful, if not lucrative, modeling career.

Then, all of a sudden, within the space of a couple of weeks, the offers had stopped coming. The photo managers had started telling her that they were looking for someone a bit taller for such- and-such a shoot, or that what they really needed was a brunette, or a redhead, or someone with a more "motherly" look, or whatever.

She hadn't had any work for about three months, and was filling in with jobs from temp agencies. What was really depressing, she told me, was that she had no idea why her career had gone belly-up so suddenly. I had a pretty good idea what it was, myself. I knew quite a lot about her life, in some areas even more than she did. For the past four months, since I'd first laid eyes on her in a sportswear catalog, I'd been keeping a close watch on her. The reason she was having a hard time finding work was that I was bribing the photo managers not to hire her.

Well, strictly speaking, I wasn't bribing them not to hire her. But every time she applied for a job, I anonymously contacted the prospective employer, and pretended to be a relative of one of the other models applying for the job. I told them how I really wanted young Dierdre or Teresa or Holly to be successful, and wouldn't they please hire her if I gave them $1,000 cash? It'd cost a bundle so far, but I could afford it. I looked on it as an investment.

I reassured Suzanne that it was probably just a run of bad luck, something that happens to everyone now and then. She smiled sweetly at that, and thanked me for the support. I bought her another drink, and over the next hour I coaxed even more information out of her.

She didn't get along well with her parents; they were extremely conservative and didn't approve of her career choice. She lived alone and had no real friends in the city. She had been in one relationship since college, and she'd broken it off three months ago.

Thanks to the drug I'd been slipping into her drinks all evening, she was now extremely trusting of me. When the bar closed, I suggested we continue the conversation at my place. She hesitated a second before agreeing. I took that as a sign that she didn't usually go home with guys she met in bars, which was probably a smart policy. A girl could run into all sorts of unsavory characters in a place like this. Me, for example.

We continued chatting as we walked to my apartment. Not my real apartment, of course, but one I was renting under an assumed name in a complex that catered to upscale young singles. I didn't want her to know where I really lived, just in case something went wrong.

When we arrived, she remarked on how clean and neat it was. (It was clean and neat mainly because I spent almost no time there.) I showed her to the couch and fixed another pair of drinks; light on the booze this time, because we'd both need plenty of energy for what was coming up. To her drink I added just a dash of a second, different drug.

I brought the drinks over to the couch and sat down. We chatted some more, and gradually our bodies moved closer and closer together. I managed to keep things calm until she'd finished her drink; I wanted to make sure the drug had taken full effect before we went to bed.

Once her glass was empty, I leaned over and kissed her. She responded with a fierce passion that let me know that I'd gotten things right. Making sure to keep control of the pace of things, I moved us from kissing into necking and petting.

Her hands were vibrant, running across my chest, back and shoulders while she nibbled greedily on my earlobe. I lightly cupped her breasts and she moaned.

Fifteen minutes after she'd finished her drink (I was stealing glances at the clock on the wall) I began to go further, gradually moving the center of my attention on her body from her breasts down across her stomach.

I caressed the insides of her thighs, occasionally coming close to her crotch, but never actually fondling her there. I could tell this was getting her excited. After about five minutes of this, I got the desired response; she pulled her mouth away from mine and looked at me with flaming eyes. "I need you," she breathed softly.

The drug I'd given her was a rare aphrodisiac that had been commonly used in ancient India to heighten the female sex drive. Two milligrams, taken orally twenty minutes before the beginning of foreplay, was guaranteed to give a woman a mind-blowing orgasm, far beyond what she could ever have achieved unaided. Five milligrams would give such a powerful ride that she would probably come down with some sort of mental damage. For all I knew, ten would probably give her a heart attack. Naturally, it was highly addictive.

The formula had been lost for several millenia, but after three years of expensive on-site research, I had found the recipe. Requiring extracts freom several rare plants, it cost a fortune to manufacture. Luckily, I had a fortune available.

I lifted her in my arms and carried her down the hall to the bedroom. Laying her gently down on the bed, I brushed my lips across hers as I unbuttoned her blouse. She was constantly moaning with pleasure now. I undressed quickly and lay down beside her. She quickly stripped her clothes off and embraced me, her crotch thrusting at my erect cock.

I din't want to do that just yet, since it would still be about fifteen minutes before the drug had its maximum effect. I gently pushed her onto her back. Gently teasing her nipples with my hands, I lowered my mouth to her crotch.

Her pussy was soaked. I nuzzled it with my nose, causing her to tremble. Slowly, ever so slowly, in order to heighten her awareness, I began to tickle her clit with my tongue.

"Mmmmmmm...ohhhhh..." I gently probed the mouth of her pussy with my tongue, rubbing my upper lip agains her clit while I did.

"Ohhhhhh...yeeeesssss..."

Sensing her building orgasm, I withdrew and began kissing her thighs to give her a chance to cool down. After a minute or so of this, I moved my attention back to her pussy. The first touch of my tongue immediately sent her back up.

"Ohhh, God...yes, yes!"

I brought her to the edge of orgasm again, and let her hang there for awhile. This would enhance the experience for her when I finally did allow her to come.

After ten minutes, she was writhing and moaning. "Ohhh... Alan... It's never been like this before...I need you so bad..."

"Shhhhh..." I gently admonished. "It's better this way. Just relax and enjoy it."

After another five minutes, she could barely contain herself. "God, Alan, I need you... I need you now. Pleeeeeeease."

I realized that the time had come. I pulled my body up alongside hers. Kissing her lips, I placed the head of my erect shaft at the entrance to her pussy. Gently, I began to make soft, short strokes into her.

"Mmmm....yeeeessssss..." she moaned.

I gradually increased the pace as well as the depth of my strokes. She was going wild with the sensations. I knew it was like nothing she'd ever felt.

"Ngggghhhh... ohhhhh... ohhh... yesss... harder... harder..."

When I knew the moment was right, I pulled out all the stops and began pumping my hard, eight-inch-long member all the way to the back of her cunt. She was writhing beneath me like a woman possessed.

"Oh, God... yes... yes... YES! YES! YES!"

I felt her orgasm shudder through her body. Her cunt gripped me tight as she screamed in pleasure. The walls of her pussy were like a velvet vise squeezing my shaft. I rode her as hard as I could, while her crotch thrust furiously at my cock.

Her orgasm lasted several minutes. Near the end, my balls boiled over and I began to come. My stick semen filled her cunt to overflowing, and I felt a large amount of jism squeezing out of her pussy around my cock.

We came down together. Her cries subsided, to be replaced by a series of quick gasps as she struggled to catch her breath. I kissed her on the neck. "That was great," I said.

"God, it was fantastic!" she replied. "I've never felt like that before."

I pretended to take it as a compliment. "Thank you." Everything had gone perfectly.

We quickly fell asleep after that. The next morning, I woke up well before Suzanne did, so I surprised her with breakfast in bed. She wa delighted. After she'd finished, we made love again, and she had another mind-blowing orgasm, thanks to the secret ingredient in the orange juice. After she'd rested a bit, I told her I had to get to work, and offered to drive her home. She accepted.

I got her phone number and gave her the number for my apartment, but told her that I was going to be very busy at work, so I doubted I'd be there much.

I called her the next day and asked for a date. She eagerly agreed. We made plans to go out to dinner at a fairly pricey restaurant. I assured her that I was picking up the tab.

That evening, I showed up at Suzanne's door fifteen minutes early, with a box tucked under my arm. She greeted me at the door with towels wrapped around her hair and torso, obviously having just gotten out of the shower. She ushered me into the living room and showed me to the couch.

"I have as gift for you," I said as I presented the box to her.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," she demurred, setting the box down and opening it up. Her eyes went wide as she looked inside. She reached in and pulled out a black satin party dress that glittered in the light. "Oh, Alan... you can't do this. This is too much."

"I wanted to do it," I replied. "You deserve the best. I was hoping you'd wear it tonight."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Suzanne reached into the box again and pulled out a pair of matching black pumps with five-inch heels. An expression of concern crossed her face as she examined them. She looked up at me questioningly.

"Is something wrong?" I asked innocently.

"No...no," she said, forcing a smile. "I'll just go back and get dressed." With that, she got up and walked down the hall. I smiled to myself. Another small step.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged, looking breathtakingly beautiful. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, which were bare except for the black straps of the dress. I'd bought the dress half a size too small, so it squeezed her slightly, pushing her breasts up over the front of the dress in an appetizing way. It similarly hugged her thighs and legs, showing off her excellent curves. The effect was amplified by the swing of her hips as she walked on the high heels. She wore a pair of simple earrings and a couple of gold bracelets on one arm.

"You look fantastic," I said. She did.

She blushed. "Thank you, Alan." She came over and kissed me. "Let's go."

We had a pleasant dinner, during which we discussed the weather, current events, movies, and her career. I steered the conversation away from myself. She trusted me implicitly now, and was very open with me; I didn't need to rely on a drug for that anymore.

After dinner, we danced a bit, and took a walk in the park. She thought it was all incredibly romantic, and I knew she was falling in love with me. She rested her head on my shoulder while we walked.

When we got back to her place, she tried to pull me toward the bedroom immediately, but I begged off. "Come on, there's plenty of time for that. Let's sit down and have a drink first. Besides, I thought it was only men that wanted to have sex right away after getting home."

She laughed at that and allowed herself to be persuaded to wait. She sat down on the couch while I went in to make us drinks. Out of her sight, I added the contents of a small capsule I was carrying to her glass. We sipped our drinks and chatted. Things progressed as they had the previous night, and soon I was carrying her into the bedroom. She was getting hot, and as soon as I put her down she immediately began to take off her clothes. I stopped her as she reached for the pumps on her feet. She looked up at me questioningly.

"Please, keep them on. I find them attractive."

She opened her mouth as if to protest. I allowed the slightest hint of displeasure to creep into my face. She closed her mouth, and said softly, "Okay."

I smiled. She smiled back, in a relieved way. I took off the rest of her clothes and mine as well. She lay back and I moved over her.

As with the night before, I used my lips and tongue on her pussy and clit to bring her to the edge of orgams and hold her there for several seconds, in order to heighten her desire and sensitivity. When the time arrived, I lowered my rock-hard shaft directly into her steamy pussy.

I stroked her gently and deeply, causing her to cry out in ecstasy. After a minute or two of this, I withdrew my cock. Gently but firmly, I grabbed her legs, with the pumps still on them, and raised them over her hips. I lowered them to my shoulders, giving my cock a better angle at her pussy. Before she realized I was changing our position, I thrust back into her.

She gasped in pleasure at my re-entry. I began to fuck her deeply, savoring the feeling of her soft pussy walls against my cock. Her moans increased in volume and frequency.

"Yes...yes..YES!" She was loving every minute of this.

I picked up the pace as I felt her orgasm build. I reached down and began to fondle her erect nipples. She was tossing her head from side to side as she bounced her ass on the bed, trying to draw me in deeper on each stroke. Her moans reached a crescendo and merged into one long scream of pleasure, as the walls of her hot, wet pussy squeezed my dick, fuelling my own orgasm. My cock throbbed as it spurted jism into her cunt.

Her scream stopped as she gasped for breath. My ejaculation continued, my cum dribbling out of her pussy. We stayed locked together for several minutes as she struggled for breath. I pulled my softening dick out of her soaked pussy, a thin string of jism following it. I lay down beside her and kissed her. "You were fabulous," I whispered.

She opened her eyes, blinked and turned to face me. "So were you."

We fucked again the next morning (after another "breakfast in bed," of course), and once again she experienced a mind-blowing orgasm.

We lay in bed for awhile before I told her I had to get to work. I promised her dinner again that night, which she eagerly accepted. She was well on her way to being hooked.

Once again, I showed up fifteen minutes early with a gift. This time, it was a dress in fire-engine red, a strapless body-hugging design that left her knees exposed and tightly wrapped her hips and thighs. Also included in the box were a pair of matching ladies' gloves, two large gold hoop earrings and a pair of shiny red pumps with five-inch heels.

She pulled the outfit out of the box, and examined it, a frown of concern crossing her face. "Alan, you can't keep buying me these things. This is so... expensive." I knew that the price wasn't what was really bothering her. She was worried about looking like a prostitute. Which was really kind of paranoid. The dress was a bit racy, but still within the bounds of taste. Quite conservative compared to what she'd be wearing before long.

"Relax. I can afford it," I reassured her. "Besides, like I said, you deserve it." I kissed her gently on the cheek. She smiled and went back into her bedroom to put it on.

She emerged fifteen minutes later, looking almost edible. The dress sparkled in the light. Again, I'd bought it half a size too small, so that her her breasts pushed out the top. I decided she was right. The dress, combined with the pumps and earrings, did make her look like a prostitute. Much more like an expensive, classy call girl than a cheap street hooker, but a prostitute nonetheless. I asked her to turn around for me so I could see the whole thing. She complied. "You look gorgeous," I told her.

We went to dinner again at a fine restaurant, and dined on shrimp and caviar. She was quite flattered at the amount of money she knew I must've been spending on her.

Again, we talked about inconsequential things. After dinner, I surprised her by producing tickets to an operatic version of Shakespeare's "Hamlet" at the city symphony hall. She was suitably impressed.

We arrived at the hall half an hour early. Suzanne turned quite a few male heads as we strolled into the spacious lobby. I bought us each a glass of champagne at the bar to sip while we waited. She held her glass up between our faces. "To us," she said.

"No. To you," I replied, and clinked my glass on hers. She smiled at that and took a drink from her glass, imbibing not only champagne, but the dose of aphrodisiac I'd slipped into her glass. We finished the drinks, entered the performance hall, and found our seats. After a brief wait, the lights dimmed and the show began.

At the end of the first scene, I glanced over at Suzanne, who I'd noticed had started squirming a bit.

Suppressing my glee, I leaned over to her. "Are you all right?" I whispered.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she replied, a little embarrased.

She managed to hold herself together until the middle of the second scene, when Hamlet was talking to his father's ghost. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Alan... I need it."

I did my best to look surprised, and I think I succeeded. "You mean now?" I responded, perhaps a bit too loudly, since the woman behind us shushed me.

"Yessss," she whispered back.

I paused, pretending to consider the situation. "You mean you want to have sex right here in this building?" I asked, forcing incredulity into my voice.

"Well... There has to be someplace. Pleeease," she whispered urgently, "I need it so baaaad."

I got up and led her to the aisle, much to the annoyance of several theater patrons. We hurried up the aisle to the foyer. She frantically gripped the inside of my arm as I looked around for a place we could slip into.

I spied a pair of doors leading into what must be the reception area. I led Suzanne over and stuck my head inside. The room was large, with a big table in the middle and number of chairs sitting around the outside wall. The table was covered by a fancy tablecloth. Arranged tastefully on top of it was a staggering array of food. No doubt it was set up for a reception during the intermission. Nobody was in it now, though. I hurried Suzanne inside and closed the door.

She threw her arms around me and plastered her lips against mine. I could feel the sexual energy bouncing around in her body as she gnawed hungrily at my lips. Placing my hands on her ass, I lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around me as I carried her to the edge of the table and set her down.

"Oh, God, I need it so bad..." she murmured.

I pushed a few trays of food out of the way and forced her to lie down on the table with her ass on the edge. I pulled away just long enough to unzip my pants and free my stiff cock.

I pushed the red dress up her sleek legs, bunching it up around her waist. I shoved her panties to one side, revealing her already-soaked pussy. The drug was clearly having its usual effect. "Please, Alan, please..."

I lifted her legs up and rested them on my shoulders. "Here it comes, honey," I told her as I thrust my thick shaft into her moist pussy. She gave a loud moan of pleasure as my cock penetrated deep into her cunt. I grabbed her hips and began to take long, slow strokes, pulling her down onto my shaft with each thrust.

The aphrodisiac had turned her into an animal. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, providing leverage for her to thrust her ass into me with each stroke I took. She gave a sharp cry of pleasure each time my cock pushed through the soft folds of her pussy.

"Oh, yes... yes!" she moaned, as I pistoned in and out of her. Her eyes were closed as she twisted her head from side to side. As her noises intensified, I began to worry that someone would walk in on us. I decided that was the risk I had to take, though. I picked up the pace, pounding my hard shaft more quickly into her silky, wet cunt.

She quickly reached orgasm. She didn't scream this time, but I was sure her moans would easily carry to the lobby. I didn't care, anymore, though, because I was about to come, as well. Her pussy spasmed and gripped my cock tightly, and I felt my balls heave and begin to spurt cum. "Oh, God! Nnnnnngh!" she moaned as her orgasm swept over her. I shot my entire load into her pussy.

God, it felt good. I stood there for what must have been a minute while my orgasm passed. Suzanne was still lying on the table, her eyes closed, the red pumps on her feet resting on my shoulders, breathing deeply and moaning softly to herself. I looked up...

...and saw the kid. He looked to be about fourteen or fifteen. He was dressed in a theatre uniform, and was standing in the service door carrying a plate of shrimp hors d'ouvres. His eyes were wide as saucers and his jaw was practically scraping the floor.

I had no idea how long he'd been there. Thinking quickly, I raised my index finger to my lips and made a gesture to be quiet. He didn't react, but just kept on staring. Suzanne's eyes were still closed, so she didn't notice.

I quickly withdrew my cock, eliciting a little whimper from Suzanne. A mixture of semen and cunt juice dribbled out of her cunt and began to pool on the table. I grabbed a nearby napkin and wiped away some of the excess before replacing her panties.

Gently, and making sure to keep her facing away from the kid, I picked her up and set her upright on the floor in front of. She stumbled a little before regaining her footing. I reached down and pulled her dress down to cover her legs again, smoothing it out with my hands.

By this time, she'd regained her senses. "Oh, my God," she gasped, "I can't believe we just did that."

"Shhhh," I repsonded. "We need to get out of here."

She fought down her nerves. "O-okay. Let me get my purse." She turned around to grab it off of the table, and caught sight of the kid still standing in the doorway. She froze, startled.

"Excuse us," I said to the kid. "I think we must have the wrong room. We'll just be going now." I grabbed Suzanne's purse off the table. She was still in shock. "Honey... let's go." I said, pulling on her arm. She swallowed and allowed me to guide her out.

I hustled her through the door to the lobby. As I left, I gave the kid a wink. He hadn't moved since I'd first seen him.

On the way back to the hall through the lobby, Suzanne managed to look both flushed and white as a sheet. "My God, Alan, do you think he saw us?"

"No," I lied, "he walked in just as we were leaving."

She sighed with relief, but still seemed rather agitated. "But what if he had?"

"I don't know. Maybe you should have thought of that beforehand. It was your idea, after all."

She stopped talking and took on a thoughtful expression. We stayed for the rest of the show, but she had trouble paying attention. On the way home, she brought it up again.

"It's not so much that we were doing something dangerous and could've gotten caught; I mean, that's bad, but what I'm really worried about is that I wanted to do it. I mean, I just got the urge right there in the theater, and I had to have it."

I feigned perplexedness. "Well, I don't know. People get the urge in all sorts of weird places. It's not something you can control."

"No, but it's never happened to me like that before." She was thoughtful for a minute, then she leaned her head on my shoulder and placed a hand on my arm. "Maybe it's just the effect you have on me, Alan. If that's what it is, I don't mind at all."

I smiled and patted her head. You will mind, I thought. Oh, yes, you will.

I decided it would be best to give Suzanne a good night's rest after the episode in the theater. I didn't want to take things too fast just yet. So, I dropped her of at her apartment and promised to call her the next day.

At home, I allowed myself a drink to celebrate my latest success. The champagne Suzanne had drunk before the show had contained not one, but two drugs.

The first was her normal aphrodisiac. The second drug was what was called a neural association enhancer.

The effect of the drug was to temporarily increase the ability of neurons in the subject's brain to reconfigure themselves and make new connections. The Russian scientist Pavlov had performed a groundbreaking experiment in behavioral study involving a dog, some meat, and a bell. Pavlov would ring the bell every time he fed the dog.

After several days of this, Pavlov found he could get the dog's mouth to water by ringing the bell even without producing the meat. The dog's brain had rewired itself to associate the bell with food. And thus Pavlov discovered what scientists today call the Pavlovian response.

The new drug induced the brain to make such associations much more quickly. Experiments on lab animals with a similar drug had shown a dramatic decrease in the amount of time required to establish Pavlovian responses, somethimes by a factor of as much as five or ten.

The version I had was tailored to the human brain chemistry. I had obtained it illictly through a contact of mine in the military, where it was highly classified, and then reproduced it in my lab.

The drug had been in effect in Suzanne during our tabletop fuck at the theatre. Her brain had begun to form associations between the various elements of that episode; the hard table under her ass, the danger of getting caught, the revealing attire she'd been wearing, the feel of the heels on her feet during the act, the slutty feeling of having sex in a public area, and, most importantly, the extreme pleasure of the orgasm she'd experienced.

This one episode wouldn't do the trick by itself, of course. But after only a few more drug-assisted experiences like that one, Suzanne would be well-trained, the Pavlovian response firmly embedded in her brain.

By the time I was done with her, whenever the bell rang, she would crave meat. Not just from me. From anyone.

Suzanne's New Career Chapter 2 ========= Shooting Off at the Mouth

For our next date, I took Suzanne to a movie. As usual, I showed up early, bearing a gift. This time, it was a black halter top, a short white skirt, a pair of black pumps with the standard five-inch heels, and a couple pieces of gold jewelry. Again, I watched uneasiness flicker across her face, but only for the briefest of instants, before she smiled, thanked me, and went back to her bedroom to put them on.

By now, she was addicted to the sex, and I could've used that as leverage to get her to wear anything I wanted. But to get that, I would've had to start using strongarm tactics, openly threatening to break off the relationship if she didn't do what I wanted. This was something I'd have to do eventually, but it wasn't necessary yet.

For now, she was still willing to believe that I was a nice guy who was really interested in her, and just had sort of an odd thing about buying her clothes. I'm sure she was more than a little in love with me, as well. It was better to play on this for awhile, nurturing her feelings toward me while gently nudging her in the direction I wanted. So I took it easy on the clothes.

She emerged soon, looking hot as always. Once again, the clothes were half a size too small, and pleasant bits of Suzanne strained against the fabric here and there. The black and white clothes squeezing her supple body made her look just a bit trashy. She didn't look like a hooker, though. More like a woman who just wanted to be sure to get a lot of looks. I complimented her, as usual, telling her how beautiful she was. She accepted all this in her usual way, with a pretty smile and a kiss. We arrived at the theater and got in line at the ticket booth. Suzanne drew more than a few lusty stares from the teenage boys ahead of us in line, and a number of disapproving and envious glares from their dates. I wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her protectively.

I bought tickets to a cheesy romantic comedy. I'd made sure to get us to the movie well ahead of time, so that we'd be able to buy refreshments. We did so, getting a large tub of popcorn and _separate_ drinks; myself a large Coke, Suzanne a medium Diet Coke with a couple of extra ingredients.

We entered the theatre and sat down to watch the movie. I put my arem around her, she leaned her head on my shoulders, and in every way we behaved like an ordinary couple out on a date.

Thirty minutes into the movie, however, I felt Suzanne beginning to squirm against me. "Suzanne?" I whispered. "Are you all right?"

She was startled, and it took her a moment to respond. "Uh... I'm fine. Just fine."

I pretended to watch the movie for two more minutes, until I felt Suzanne's body rubbing against mine. "What's the matter?" I asked, trying to look concerned.

She looked at me, with something bordering on guilt in her eyes. "I... I... I need it."

"How badly? Now?"

She looked hesitant, but eventually forced out, "Really bad." The dosage of aphrodisiac I'd given her had been half again the size of her normal dose.

I sighed, acting as though this was a chore, and stood up. We squirmed past some annoyed people on our row to the aisle, and walked out into the lobby. Fortunately, it was almost empty.

I looked around for a few seconds and then led her down a side hall to a janitor's closet. Thankfully, it was unlocked. We hurried inside and she grabbed me and kissed me. Her body started humping against mine through our clothing. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock.

I broke away. "Uh, Suzanne..." I pretended to have trouble getting my next few words out. "I'm... uh... not... you know, ready."

Suzanne blinked, then looked down at my cock. "Oh..." Her expression clouded over for a minute. "Well, it'll be ready soon, won't it?" she asked, managing to avoid any sort of explicit description.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, usually it's ready by now. I don't know." I tried to look flustered.

"Oh... Well, let's give it a minute," she said, and resumed necking. I fought with all my will to keep from getting hard. I'd masturbated earlier that day in order to give myself some resistance, but it was still hard to avoid my cock's natural desire to spring to action.

When you've got a hot bitch like Suzanne trying to do the bump- and-grind with you, it takes a lot of effort to keep your cock from stiffening. But I persevered, and five minutes later, it was still limp. Suzanne looked at me pleadingly. "What are we going to do?"

"I... I don't know." I stuttered. I knew exactly what I wanted her to do, but it was important that she make the jump herself. Suzanne remained motionless for several tense seconds. I waited, praying her innocent young mind would figure it out. After what seemed like an eternity, her left hand slowly, ever so slowly, slid from my shoulder down my arm. I came to rest inches from my cock. Suzanne was looking down at it, breathing hard, trying to steel herself. With a faint tremble, her fingertips brushed my cock.

A surge of pleasure flashed through me at the contact. This was the first time she had ever touched my cock. I fought it desperately, willing myself not to get hard. Not yet! Suzanne closed her eyes and gently touched my cock again, sending another spasm of joy shooting up my spine. I was fighting a losing battle against erection. Still trembling, Suzanne slowly began to rub my cock. She was clearly very nervous about this, and only allowed the tips of her fingers to touch my prick, rubbing it gently as it got bigger and harder.

I let out a soft moan as I gave in to the pleasure of her touch and allowed my dick to get hard. Suzanne opened her eyes, a nervous look on her face. I smiled reassuringly and kissed her. She responded positively, increasing the pace of her strokes on my cock.

When my cock had fully hardened, I gently pushed Suzanne's hand away. I would have been happy enough to let her keep stroking me until I came, but it wouldn't have been much fun for her. She needed to have an orgasm in order for her Pavlov- drugged brain tyo make the proper connections.

Suzanne took the meaning of my gesture. She quickly lay down on the floor and spread her legs. Good, good, I though. She was learning quickly. I pushed her skirt up over her waist and knelt between her thighs. Her panties were wet with pussy juice. I pushed them aside and drove my hard shaft into her cunt.

Suzanne cried out in pleasure and immediately began to thrust her pelvis at me, trying to draw as much of my cock as possible into her silky pussy. I took long strokes, nurturing her growing orgasm, listening to the soft moans escaping her lips. Her blond hair swirled back and forth on the ground as her head twised from side to side. "Oh, God, Alan... Yes! Yes!"

I stepped up the pace of my thrusts, bringing her to a screaming orgasm. She wrapped her legs around my ass, pulling me as deeply as possible into her while her cunt squeezed my throbbing dick. Her orgasm lasted nearly half a minutes. My cock, stimulated by the pressure spasms of her pussy, shot several spurts of jism deep into her cunt.

When Suzanne had calmed down, and I had shot my entire load, I pulled out of her and got dressed again. Helping Suzanne to her feet, I brushed her dress down and smoothed it out. As usual, she had had her mind blown by the power of her orgasm. She snapped out of it after a minute, and we went back to the movie.

Suzanne actually enjoyed the rest of the movie. Rather than cuasing her distress, as our quickie at the opera had, the interlude in the closet seemed to have invigorated her, giving har a warm glow. She happily sat through the rest of the flick, clinging to my arm, a smile on her face. It seemed that the idea of sex in a public place wasn't quite so disturbing to her anymore.

After the movie, we went back to her place and went to bed after our usual bedtime drinks. I pretended to have trouble getting it up again, and asked her to help me.

She complied, rubbing my cock with a bit more confidence. I held out as long as I could before allowing myself to become erect. I then laid her on her back and fucked her brains out.

For the next week, Suzanne and I went out almost every night. Occasionally I would slip the drugs into her early in the evening, so that she would get horny while we were still out. I was eager to progress to the phase of her training, but I forced myself to hold back. It was important to take things slowly, and let everything proceed as if it were developing naturally. Pushing Suzanne too quickly could ruin the relationship.

So I took it easy. Each time we had sex, I coaxed her into stroking my cock with her hands. Whenever it was possible, I rubbed her clit while she was doing this to provide her with some enjoyment. Eventually, I wanted to bring her to associate touching my cock with her pussy getting wet. And of course, I always made sure that the aphrodisiac and the Pavlov drug were working their magic before I fucked her. And she always wore the high heels.

Her confidence and skill steadily increased, and soon she was eagerly jacking my cock every time it came out of my pants, bringing me quickly to erection. The girl had become quite skilled at giving hanjobs. Almost like a professional.

I decided it was time to teach Suzanne the next lesson.

Once again, I'd given her some clothes to wear for the occasion. This time it was a pink summery dress with white polk-dots. The top had a low-cut neckline, half a size too small as usual, so that her breasts were slightly squeezed out the top. The skirt was short, stopping several inches above her knees, so that her sleek legs were well-displayed. And her legs looked even better on top of the five-inch pink heels.

Suzanne no longer bothered to comment on the clothes I bought her, but simply smiled and thanked me. I knew she wasn't overly fond of them, but it was something she was willing to put up with. The price she paid to be with me. I had arranged for us to take a balloon ride at a local park. It was one of those tethered rides where the gondola is attached to the ground by a rope. You pay the fare, and you're allowed to ride the ballon up and see the city for fifteen or twenty minutes, and then the attendant pulls you back down.

We got to the park half an hour before our balloon reservation. I bought a pair of snow-cones which we slurped down while waiting for the ride. The syrup from Suzanne's cone colored her lips and some of the skin around her mouth a bright cherry red. I mused on this as I watched her eat her treat. The effect was to make her lips look larger, changing the smiling mouth of the pretty, innocent girl into the naturally pouting mouth of a cocksucking slut. How appropriate.

Our turn arrived. I paid the attendant, and Suzanne and I climbed into the large wicker gondola. After a brief safety speech, the attendant unhooked us and began reeling out the tether. The balloon slowly rose into the night air.

Suzanne and I looked over the side of the basket at the shrinking park below us. After rising for several minutes, the balloon reached the end of the rope and came to a stop with a slight jerk. Suzanne snuggled against me on the narrow bench.

We sat like that for awhile, enjoying the cool breeze, until I felt Suzanne's hand brushing my crotch. I looked at her, and she looked back pleadingly. "Alan... I need you."

"Well, we're all alone up here, I suppose," I responded. "Let's go ahead."

Suzanne grinned happily as she unzipped my pants and pulled out my flacid dick. She began to caress it as usual, attempting to bring me to erection.

I fought against it with every ounce of my will. It was important that her attempts to get me hard with a handjob fail tonight. I'd thought I was having a tough time keeping myself soft two weeks ago at the movie theatre, but that was nothing compared to what I was fighting against now. Suzanne had become quite the proficient giver of handjobs, and it was a struggle to resist.

Nonetheless, I came through. Five minutes after she'd started, I was still limp. This was several times as long as it'd ever taken her to get me hard before. Suzanne looked at me with almost the same pleading expression she'd had on her face two weeks ago at the movie theatre. "What's wrong, Alan? Why isn't it getting... hard?" She must've been desperate. This was the most explicit language she'd ever used.

"I don't know, honey," I responded, trying to sound flabbergasted.

She went back to work, more determined than ever to get me hard. Again, with a Herculean effort, I resisted. Five minutes later, she paused again, frustrated and horny. She was becoming increasingly fidgety, desperate for cock.

"Well..." I began. She looked at me, begging. "...there is one... other thing you... could try..." I forced out, faking sheepishness. I gently touched a finger to her mouth. Suzanne's face took on a disturbed look as she struggled with the idea.

After several seconds of hard thought, she began to tremble. Slowly, ever so slowly, she began to bend her knees, lowering herself to face my cock. With the fingers of one hand, she tentatively circled the base of my cock.

Balanced on the pumps, with one hand against the wall of the gondola to support herself, she slowly leaned forward, her tongue extending itself from her mouth.

The tip of her tongue made contact with the head of my prick, and that alone almost sent me over the edge. I contained myself, though, and only let out a small moan. Hesitantly, Suzanne brought her lips down to touch my cock. A tingling shot up my spine. Slowly, her lips parted, and my cock entered her wet, warm mouth. She paused and looked up at me, her lips encircling my prick, a questioning look on her face.

I smiled at her. "God, that feels good." She smiled back (as much as someone whose mouth is stuffed full of cock can smile). Slowly, she began to pump her head up and down on my shaft. She wasn't experienced, but she more than made up for that with sheer enthusiasm. Soon she was pumping her mouth rapidly up and down my stiff shaft. Occasionally, she would look up at me. That almost made me come. Squatting on those high pumps, wearing those tight clothes, her lips encircling a mougthtul of my thick cock, Suzanne looked like nothing more than a cheap whore.

I wanted so badly to come in her mouth, but that would have to wait. If she didn't get to come, the whole episode would be wasted. So I gently pushed her off my cock and told her I was ready.

There wasn't enough space in the gondloa to lie down, so I pulled her up to a standing position. I lifted her skirt and thrust her panties aside to expose her sopping wet pussy. Placing my hands on her ass, I lifted her into the air, rested her ass on the bench, and impaled her on my dick.

She let out an animal-like scream as I entered her wet pussy. She wrapped her legs around me, her heels digging into my ass, trying to pull me even deeper into her cunt. I withdrew until the tip of my cock was just barely inside her pussy, and then I slammed it info her again, hard. Shuzanne squealed in pleasure. "Oh, yes, Alan..." She was building to orgasm already; there was no time to take it slow. I started thrusting into her quickly and forcefully, pounding my cock into her velvety pussy. Each time, I plunged my full length in, filling her cunt with my balls resting against her ass, then withdrawing until my cockhead was just barely touching her pussy lips.

She squealed with delight each time I slammed into her. The gondola rocked slightly with each thrust. Soon, she was coming like a storm, her cries carrying in the night air. At the same time, my jism spurted into her waiting cunt, overflowing and dripping out onto the floor.

After she'd come down, we cleaned up a bit and waited for the gondola to come back down. Suzanne's hair was a bit tousled, and I heard a couple of snickers from a pair of teenage boys as we left the balloon ride area.

After a leisurely stroll around the park, I decided the time was right to build on what Suzanne had learned in the balloon. Back at her apartment, I fixed the standard drinks (including the Pavlovian drug for her) and soon we were in bed together. She didn't even think about taking off the heels this time. Good girl! I mentally congratulated her.

Rather than go down on her immediately, as I usually did, I suggested that we might want to try something in which we might both give each other pleasure. I was careful to avoid any explicit wording, so that she would think this was as new to me as it was to her.

"Like what?" she asked. I explained the concept of a "69" to her (not using that name, of course). She would lie above me, her head at my crotch, and her crotch at my head, so that I could "lick her down there," and she could "you know, do what you did on the balloon ride." She hesitated for a second, but then agreed. I lay on my back and she positioned herself above me on her hands and knees. Teasingly, I tickled her cunt with my nose and tongue, causing her to gasp. Slowly, she lowered her mouth onto my cock and began to pump. I encouraged her by licking her clitoris, occasionally giving it a short suck with my lips. She responded by increasing the tempo of her pumping.

"Use your tongue, honey," I suggested. Within a few seconds, I felt her tongue begin to caress the underside of my cock as she continued to bob her head up and down on my shaft. God, that felt good. I felt a powerful orgasm welling up in my balls. I began to thrust my tongue into her wet cunt. She shuddered in pleasure.

I couldn't believe how good this felt. I'd met this bitch only a few days ago, and already I had her giving head like a pro. Her tongue was now swirling back and forth around my cock. Now, for the real test.

My cock was ready to explode. I felt it begin to throb under the pressure of semen preparing to burst out. "I'm about to come, honey... go ahead and swallow it." She didn't try to break away, but just kept on pumping her head up and down on my shaft. The drugs and my cunt-licking had pushed her over the edge. She would do whatever I asked, just so that she could come. The bitch was mine. She didn't realize it yet, but she was all mine.

I played her like a violin, bringing her to the peak of her orgasm just as I shot my load down her throat. Her whole body shook as she came, and my cock pumped wad after wad of jism into her mouth. Following my instructions, she sucked it all down. She was too far gone with pleasure to think about doing anything else. A dribble of my cum, mixed with her saliva, trickled out of one corner of her mouth, running down her chin. I finished coming. She continued to shudder as her drug- enhanced orgasm thundered through her body. I kept working at her clit in order to stretch it out as long as possible.

When it finally subsided, my dick fell out of her mouth, and she rolled over and flopped on her back beside me, a stunned look on her face.

I moved up next to her and kissed her. "What's the matter, honey? Wasn't it good for you?"

"It was great for me! That's what bothers me. What am I turning into?"

"What's the matter with enjoying yourself?"

"Doing that? It's just not..."

"Not what? What's the matter with two consenting adults doing whatever they want?"

"Nothing. It's the fact that I seem to crave this so much. It feels cheap."

I decided to play my trump card. "There's nothing cheap about two people who love each other giving each other..."

"What?" she interrupted. "What did you say?"

"I said there's nothing cheap about two people who love each..."

"Do you mean that? You love me?" she asked, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

"Of course, honey. I always have, and I always will. I mean that absolutely." I was lying, of course. "Oh, Alan..." She swooned and kissed me hard. I felt the salty taste of my own semen in my mouth. "You're so wonderful. I love you, too." She rested her head on my chest and closed her eyes. Soon, she was fast asleep.

I smiled.

The next morning, rather than give Suzanne the usual "breakfast in bed," I got up and served breakfast in her dining room. (Actually, it was more of a "dining nook.") When she woke up and came out into the kitchen to find me, I told her to go back and put on her pumps. She complied without hesitataion. By this time, thanks to the drug, her brain had been coaxed into forging a link between high heels and sex.

She came back out, wearing nothing but the slip and pumps, looking sexy as all hell. We sat down to eat. Her glass of orange juice contained the usual drugs. I made the meal into a long, drawn-out affair, so that she started getting hot midway through. When she at last told me, I informed her that she would have to suck me off in order to get me hard first.

She readily agreed, and in no time she was squatting at my feet, balanced on the heels, sucking my dick like there was no tomorrow. I reached down and played with her tits, eliciting moans of pleasure in between her loving strokes on my cock. Her head bobbed up and down on my shaft as she sucked like a vacuum.

When I was hard, I gently pushed her away. She stood up. I turned her around to face the table and gently pushed her down until she was flat on her stomach, her luscious ass facing up at me. I spread her legs apart and proceeded to fuck her pussy from behind, pushing her into the table with every thrust. Moaning and gasping the whole time, she came like a bitch in heat as I shot my load into her creamy cunt. Over the next several weeks, we went out almost every night. Each time, I brought a new outfit for her. Sometimes they were expensive, sometimes cheap. but they were always promiscuous.

Soon after she first learned to suck cock, I noticed that she would greet me at the door wearing a bathrobe and high heels. She had been conditioned to the point of having a psychological need for the heels.

Each night, I arranged her drugging so that she got hot in a public place. Once she got hot while we were walking down a crowded city street, so I rushed her into a nearby hotel, rented a room, and fucked her brains out. Another time, I fucked her in a phone booth in a bar.

Sometimes we did a 69, and sometimes I just fucked her. When we 69ed, I made sure that she swallowed my jism, and that she experienced an orgasm at the same time. In this way, she would soon grow to enjoy swallowing come.

I enforced a similar regimen whenever I fucked her. By mentally controlling my own orgasm as much as I could and by varying the pace of the fuck to control hers, I manipulated things so that she orgasmed right after I began to come.

Soon she would associate the pleasure of the orgasm with the feeling of an ejaculation in her cunt. With luck, she would learn to use her cunt muscles to massage the dick filling her pussy, so that she could get the come she craved out of it.

With time, she came to respond more quickly to the aphrodisiac.

Soon I was able to fuck her almost immediately after she told me she "needed it," rather than having to go through the hassle of eating her out to get her wet and ready.

One evening, we 69ed behind the back row of seats in a movie theater. It was reasonably safe, since the theater wasn't crowded, and there was nobody in the last three or four rows, but Suzanne did freeze once or twice as people walked past on the way to or from the snack bar. No one saw us, but I brought her to orgasm so hard she almost screamed in spite of herself.

Just for kicks, I drugged her again that time. She got hot near the end of the movie, so we left, and headed back to my car. We were halfway across the parking lot when her hand shot to my crotch and her teeth grabbed my lips. She let out a moan of need.

The parking lot was deserted, so I lifted her up and sat her on the hood of a truck nearby. She lay back invitingly. I unzipped her black leather miniskirt, and discovered to my surprise that she wasn't wearing any panties. I look up at her questioningly.

"W-well, I thought they got in the way, I guess." she stammered.

I smiled at her. This was great! I'd planned on eventually having her never wear panties, but I thought I'd have to coax her through that like I had everything else. Suzanne was going to be a better slut than I'd ever imagined.

I unzipped my pants and pulled out my stiff cock. Unbidden, Suzanne lifted her legs and rested them on my shoulders. She was wearing black fishnet stockings that night.

By then, I was able to pretty much dress her as I pleased. Grabbing her tits through the fabric of the pink halter top, I positioned my cock at the mouth of her cunt and slammed it home.

Suzanne squealed in pleasure, and I fucked her hard.

She must have been really in need of a fucking that time, because she came within thirty seconds of so. By the time she'd come down, I was still hard. Her cunt relaxed and stopped caressing my cock, so I wasn't getting as much as usual out of this.

Suzanne startled me by gently pushing me out of her cunt. At first, I was angry. How dare the bitch beg me to fuck her and then push me out? But then I realized what she was doing.

Suzanne slowly got up and walked around in front of me. Crouching in front of me, balanced on the stiletto heels, she took my cock into her mouth.

I was in ecstasy almost immediately. She had never given me a blowjob on her own before. The conditioning had really worked. She pumped her head up and down on my rock-hard cock like there was no tomorrow, tongue rapidly circling my shaft.

In the dim light of the parking lot, balanced on black stiletto heels, her tits overflowing out of the tight pink halter, the huge hoop earrings swinging back and forth as her head bobbed up and down on my prick, Suzanne looked slutty as all hell. Which was how I wanted her to look.

She gently squeezed my balls, like I'd taught her. She felt the cum beginning to boil up through my cock, and pumped harder. My jism spurted out of my prick into her hot, eager mouth and she greedily slurped it down.

One strand escaped from the corner of her mouth and slowly crept down her chin. When I was done coming, she released my cock and closed her eyes. Slowly, trembling, she raised one finger to her face and wiped up the escaping droplet of cum. Her lips closed around the finger and she sucked on it.

I watched in fascination as her whole body began to shake. A soft moan escaped her lips. She was coming again! She had experienced an orgasm just from tasting my cum. I was so proud of her at that moment. I couldn't let her know that I understood what was going on, though. Not yet. I watched as the shuddering subsided. A drop of pussy juice fell from her cunt to the pavement.

"Honey?" I asked, "Are you all right?"

She started, then looked up at me. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," she said hurriedly. She stubled to her feet, zipping up the dress and running her hands through her hair. "Just... uh... a little dazed, I guess."

I pretended to accept this at face value. We headed back to the car.

Having succeeded in programming Suzanne to orgasm when she tasted come, I was prepared to take the next step. A couple nights later, when we were in bed at her house, I made the move. I was plowing my throbbing cock into her cunt, getting the usual moans of delight, and savoring the feel of the fishnet stockings on my chest. (By this time, she always wore pumps, stockings, and jewelry while being fucked.)

I brought us toward orgasm together. When I felt my cock begin to throb like it was about to start spurting cum, rather than stay inside her as usual, I pulled out and moved up her body.

She opened her eyes, looking pleadingly at me. "Alan?"

"Shhh, honey, it's all right." I reached one hand down to her clit, and began rubbing her clit. She closed her eyes, and resumed her moaning. She ground her pelvis against my fingers.

Keeping my hand working on her cunt, I moved up and straddled her body, kneeling with one leg on each side of her, my knees almost rubbing her armpits. With my other hand, I furiously jacked at my shaft. Just as she began to orgasm, I felt myself about to come. I aimed my shaft at her pretty, unsuspecting face, and began to shoot my wad.

The first spurt made a line across her left cheek. She failed to notice. The second splashed across her lips and chin. A tiny bit dripped into her mouth between her parted lips. The third hit her forehead above her right eyebrow. I watched as her tongue darted out to sample the cum around her mouth. My fourth spurt went into her hair. Her tongue was now trying to bring as much cum as it could into her mouth. My last gob of jism hit her left ear.

She came down from her orgasm and caught her breath. I gave her a goodnight kiss, and, as usual, she went right to sleep, still dazed from the fucking she'd gotten. She looked quite the picture of the contented little whore as she dozed off to sleep, her faced covered with my come.

I think it was coming on her face that started to erode her love for me. By the way she talked when we went out, you'd think she was still the same woman she'd always been. But before that evening I'd always seen a sort of worshipful adoration in her eyes whenever she looked at me, as though the world revolved around me and I could do no wrong. I never saw that again after the night when I came on her face for the first time. It was gone, replaced by a sort of wariness.

This didn't affect her sexual cravings one bit. The third night I came on her face, she was actively helping me, her hands jacking up and down on her shaft, teasing the head with her tongue. She was quite eager to help me come and spurt jism all over her face. Afterwards, she would use her hands to wipe it all up and put it in her mouth, where she would swallow it, often bringing her to another orgasm.

The next night I started fucking her tits. I plowed her pussy until I was nice and hard, and then withdrew and placed my cock in the valley between her boobs. Her chest was an ample 34C; fuckable, but not perfect. Maybe someday I'd get something done about that.

In the meantime, I began to move my hips, sliding my cock up and down between her tits. I pushed her breasts together around my shaft, squeezing the nipples as I formed a tube for my cock.

I took Suzanne's hands and placed them on her tits, indicating that she should squeeze them around my cock. With my left hand, I rerached behind me and played with her pussy while I rubbed my shaft up and down between her tits.

She orgasmed just as I sprayed me jism all over her face. In her usual trance-like state, Suzanne gathered all my jism up on her fingers and licked it off, sending her up once again.

Two nights later, she was really getting into the tit-fucking, playing with her nipples as she squeezed my dick, and licking the head of my shaft every time it thrust forward through her cleavage.

The next night, she came all by herself from being tit-fucked; I didn't have to touch her pussy at all. Her progress was amazing.

In less than a month, I'd completely changed this bitch. Using her body's natural responses, augmented by a couple of drugs, I'd turned her from an ordinary woman into a cock-hungry slut.

Suzanne's New Career Chapter 3 ========= Taking charge

When Suzanne was lying on her back with my cock filling her cunt, or kneeling in front of me sliding her lips up and down my hard shaft, she was always willing and eager. The girl was in love with my cock and would do everything she knew how to do to get it to yield its load of precious cum. When she was getting fucked, Suzanne was every bit the cock-craving slut.

But when she wasn't, which was still most of the time, she was becoming increasingly unhappy. She tried to hide it from me, but it was obvious from the look in her eyes that she was no longer the giddily-in-love Montana girl that I'd been dating a month earlier.

She wasn't miserable, but she was definitely unhappy. I assumed that what was happening was that she was starting to worry about what she was becoming.

She'd had a very conservative upbringing in Montana, going to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday night. Despite the fact that she'd been asked out on plenty of dates in high school, she'd only kissed one boy before going away to college.

In college, of course, she'd been exposed to the wider world, getting intimate with several guys, and having sex with two of them.

Those experiences had helped her discover that sex could be a beautiful thing between two people who loved each other. She'd told me all of this at one time or another.

But at the core, I knew, she was still the naive little girl from Montana who'd been taught by her parents and her church that sex was essentially an evil act, one that good people only engaged in when it was absolutely necessary to create another human life. Enjoying sex was evil, she'd been taught, and women who enjoyed sex were trashy sluts.

Her enjoyment of the sex she'd had in college hadn't caused her any distress, because she'd been in love with the two guys she'd had sex with. Similarly, the mind-blowing orgasms she'd experienced during our time together hasn't been of any concern, because she'd been madly in love with me, and she'd thought I was in love with her.

But now, her love for me was starting to fade, and the sexual mores instilled in her by her upbriging were trying to reassert themselves. The love she'd felt for me before had made her feel secure about enjoying sex, but it was losing its power, and losing ground to the old taboos.

Of course, this was only her mood when she wasn't primed for sex. When she was fired up and hot to trot, she was still the same fuck-hungry nympho she'd always been. And since she tried to hide it from me, I could plausibly pretend not to notice the change in her mood. So her increasing unhappiness was nothing to worry about.

But I noticed something else. Occasionally, I would catch her looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I would turn to look at her, and, just for an instant, catch sight of wary, suspicious look on her face.

Her expression would always change to one of pleasant happiness as soon as turned my head, but slowly enough that I could catch a brief glimpse into her mind.

She was starting to become suspicious of me. I had introduced her to a whole world of pleasure she'd never know before, and she was starting to suspect I had some sort of ulterior motive.

We continued our nightly outings. Each time I either brought some clothing for her when I picked her up, or told her ahead of time what I wanted her to wear. She always complied. She never confronted me about the clothes I made her wear, or the tit- fucking, although I knew they bothered her.

I suppose she realized how stupid she would sound complaining about these things, when she obviously enjoyed wearing the clothes and having her tits fucked. Also, I'm sure she was worried that if she started an argument, I might leave her. Like I said, she was addicted to the sex. I planned to drive her to rebellion eventually -- that would be necessary before the proper relationship could be established between us -- but in the meantime, I was content to let things go on as they were.

At this point, Suzanne was behaving like a textbook nymphomaniac. All I had to do was slip her some aphrodisiac into a drink, and thirty minutes later, Suzanne was lying on the floor, eagerly taking my rock-hard cock into her wet pussy, or running her lips and tongue up and down my shaft.

Her sexual skills, though not complete, were well-enough developed for the time being. I spent the next month, the third of our relationship, moving her in a new direction.

Up until now, whenever I wanted to fuck Suzanne, I had to arrange for her to drink something, so I could drug her, and then wait half an hour or so for her to get hot and beg me to do it to her. This had been fine for awhile; I'd even gotten quite a bit of enjoyment out of the challenge of arranging a drugging. But ultimately, the drug was a liablity.

For one thing, it was inconvenient, and occasionally frustrating. Several times I'd been dying to fuck her, and been unable to arrang a drugging. For another, if I kept this up long enough, the chances were good that Suzanne would notice me drugging her beverages. That wouldn't completely ruin my plans, but it would force me to change them quite a bit. What I needed to do was bring Suzanne more fully under my control.

I started to do this one afternoon while we were enjoying a picnic in the park. We had just finished feeding a couple pieces of bread to the ducks in the pond. (I had arranged this, and many other "romantic" activities like it, in hopes of reigniting her fading love for me.) We had returned to our spread blankets and begun enjoying the lunch I'd packed in the basket that morning: sandwiches, chips, and bottled juice.

After finishing my first sandwich, I stood up and beckoned to Suzanne. She rose, confused. "What's the matter, Alan?"

"Nothing, honey. Just come with me." I took her arm and hurried up the hill toward a stand of trees and bushes.

"But where are we going?" she asked, confused.

I turned and smiled at her. "I have needs, too."

"Oh..." Her voice trailed off. She was perplexed, and with good reason. This was the first time I'd led her away to get fucked that she hadn't already been feeling horny. She'd had the drug, all right, but it hadn't taken effect yet. Nonetheless, she followed me.

We went in among the trees, where we were well-hidden from outside view. Gently, I pushed her down to the ground and made her lie on her back. I spread her legs and knelt between them.

She was getting quite nervous. Her mind wasn't prepared to have sex in an undrugged state.

"Alan, I don't think this is a good idea..." she protested.

"Why not, honey? What are we doing here that we haven't done a dozen times before?" I asked.

"Well... I..." She took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. What she wanted to say, of course, was that this was all wrong, that _she_ was the one who was supposed to tell me she "needed it," not the other way around. Obviously, she realized how selfish this would sound, because she didn't actually say it. "I don't think I... I'm ready..." she protested feebly.

"Well," I smiled, "you let me take care of that, honey." With that, I lowered my mouth to her dry cunt. She nervously forced a smile and lay back on the ground, clenching her fists at her sides.

I flicked my tongue around her cunt, trying to arouse her. It was tough going. She was extremely tense, with all her worries about getting caught and going to hell for being a slut running loose in her mind. There was no way I could possible eat her into arousal.

Fortunately, I didn't have too. The drug kicked in after a few minutes. The change was sudden and dramatic. Suzanne's body relaxed, and she began to moan in pleasure as I cotinued to lick her slit. She put her hands on my head, pushing it into her crotch, bucking against my mouth. "Oh, God, that's it, Alan, oh yessss..."

I probed my tongue experimentally into her pussy, driving her wild. I tasted the first gush of pussy juice as she began to respond to my attention.

"Please, Alan, I need you... I need you..."

I disengaged my mouth from her steamy cunt. Spreading her legs, I positioned myself over her. "Here I come, honey, here I come," I told her as I shoved my cock deep into her sopping wet pussy.

"Oh, yes," she moaned, "yes, yes, yes!" Through trial and error, she'd learned to use her cunt muscles to enhance my pleasure. As I fucked her, her pussy massaged my cock, sending waves of pleasure down my spine. Suzanne was an incredible fuck by now.

I soon shot my wad into her velvety cunt, which was still expertly squeezing my dick. The feel of my jism splashing into her cunt was enough to send her over the edge into an orgasm. She bucked and heaved, slamming her pelvis into me as my engorged dick shot my seed into her belly. I collapsed on top of her, spent, as she shrieked her way through her orgasm.

The key difference between our screw that day in the park and all our previous fucks was one of timing. Up until then, I'd always given Suzanne the drug, and then waited for her to tell me she was horny before fucking her. But this time, I had indicated to her that _I_ was horny, and needed to fuck, before she had started getting horny herself. Soon afterward, though, the drug had kicked in and she'd felt the desire to screw. Her brain would associate the desire (as well as the orgasm) with my telling her that I needed to screw her. This would come in useful later on.

Over the next three weeks, I gradually reduced the number of episodes of the first kind, the ones that I allowed her to initiate, and phased in the second form, the ones that I started. Usually, I timed it so that things happened in some public area, such as a theater.

We'd be sitting together watching a movie, or a concert, or whatever, when I would suddenly grab her arm and stand up, pulling her up with me. I'd lead her quickly out into the lobby and into whatever semi-private area I could find. In a matter of minutes, she'd be down on her knees, sucking my rock-hard dick like a three-dollar whore.

She had started to believe, deep inside, that simply putting a dick into her mouth would get her excited. And when the drug took effect a few minutes later, and started her pussy juices flowing, her brain took it as confirmation of this association. The Pavlov drug, in turn, helped the brain to rewire itself to reflect the new knowledge.

Sometimes I shot my load into her mouth. She would greedily swallow every last drop of jism while her body shuddered in orgasm. Sometimes I would pull away early, reposition her, and fuck her wet pussy. She seemed to especially enjoy taking it from behind. I would bend her over a table, or whatever surface was convenient, and she would lie on her stomach, bucking against me as I pounded into her sopping wet pussy. All the while, her well-trained cunt muscles would massage my dick until I came, which always got her really excited.

The best times, though, were the times when I came on her face. While she was sucking my cock, I would reach down and give her nipples a single firm squeeze. I'd developed this as the signal for tit-fucking. She would respond by letting my dick slide out of her mouth and readjusting her position so that her boobs were level with my stomach. Then she'd place my rock-hard cock between her tits and squeeze them tightly around it. Slowly at first, she would jack her entire body up and down, squeezing and kneading her tits as they moved up and down along my shaft. Every time my cock thrust into her face, she would give it a quick lick with her tongue.

The whole routine drove me wild. Watching Suzanne bob up and down on my shaft, her eyes closed in orgasmic pleasure, I had to struggle to keep myself from coming in the first ten seconds. She was one hot bitch.

Soon I would be able to hold back no longer, and my cock would start to throb with my imminent ejaculation. Suzanne could feel this, and when it happened her response was always the same. She would take my pulsating dick in her hand, point it at her face, close her eyes, and begin to jack furiously at it.

When my jism shot from my dick onto her pretty, upturned face, she would start to shudder. As my sticky white come covered her forehead, cheeks, nose and chin, she would try to wipe it up with her free hand and bring it to her mouth.

By the time I finished shooting my load, she would be experiencing a full-on orgasm, swallowing as much of my cum as she could get into her mouth. She never got it all, though, and when she came down from her orgasm she would sit there, breathing heavily, her face and tits glistening with come.

And so, three weeks after that afternoon in the park, I dropped the Suzanne-initiated episodes altogether. From that point on, I fucked her whenever and wherever I wanted to, and she had no say in the matter.

Technically, the difference was trivial; it was only a matter of changing the amount of time between when I slipped her the aphrodisiac and when I unzipped my fly. But the association formed in her brain was very different. These new encounters would reinforce in her subconscious mind the notion that she should get hot whenever I indicated a desire to fuck her. And, as usual, the Pavlov drug was making her very receptive to these sorts of associations.

Initially, she was always hesitant to go into action, like she'd been that in the park. I would always have to calm her down and eat her out or finger her twat for awhile to get her to relax. And at first, even this had little effect; she would remain tense and fidgety until the aphrodisiac kicked in five or ten minutes later, at which point she dived eagerly into slut mode.

I got frustrated during a lot of these warmup periods. It was annoying to have to sit there and twiddle her clit for ten mintes when I knew damn well that the aphrodisiac would heat her up soon no matter what I did. But this was important. So I stuck with it, and persevered through the inconvenience.

Slowly, but steadily, Suzanne learned to relax and enjoy my attention, even before the aphrodisiac hit her. Once again, she was learning a lesson, that getting attention from me would lead eventually to an orgasm. Quite soon, she had reached the point where the mere touch of my hands or mouth on her cunt would send her right up. And a week after that, I only had to give the merest suggestion of wanting to fuck, and she'd be eager to go. This was exactly the effect I wanted. Of course, I still made sure she was flying on the aphrodisiac before I let her orgasm.

Once I felt that I had sufficiently established this principle in her, I moved on to the next step. First, I set aside the Pavlov drug for awhile. At this point, Suzanne was as well-trained as was really necesssary. Later, I would bring it back, but for now it would only get in the way. (Plus, the stuff was expensive.) Slowly, over a carefully planned period of six weeks, I began to lower the dosage of aphrodisiac I gave Suzanne before fucking her.

At first, her sexual enjoyment dropped off. This was the riskiest part of the whole procedure, and I really didn't know exactly what would happen. Even though I had known it was coming, the sudden decrease worried me.

I could tell that her orgasms were less intense. The air of general unhappiness that had surrounded her for the past couple months thickened.

I began to pay a little more attention to her needs than I had been. It was important not to lose her now. Surprisingly, the lessening intensity of her orgasms drove her to put more and more energy into fucking, as though she thought it was her fault that she wasn't enjoying it as much, and she was trying to make up for it. I actually felt sorry for the poor girl, and even a bit guilty. Here I'd spent several months teaching her that sex was the most important thing in life, making it the end-all, be-all of her existence, and now I was pulling it away from her. And she thought it was her fault.

Fortunately, by the middle of the second week, Suzanne's body began to compensate for the decrease in the aphrodisiac dosage, and her orgasms started creeping back up to their previous heights. According to all the literature I'd read, this was supposed to happen; the effect of the Pavlov drug was not confined to counscious actions and desires. Rather, it reached out to affect all aspects of bodily function.

If you had a pin stuck into your toe repeatedly as you listened to Beethoven's Fifth while on the drug, hearing "Da-da-da-daaaaah" in the future would cause you to feel a prickling pain in your toe. Not just wince your eyes in anticipation of pain, but actually feel real pain.

Of course, what works in one instance doesn't always work in another. So I was visibly relieves when Suzanne's body overcame the decrease in drug dosage and began to deliver inhumanly strong orgasms once again, as it had been taught. She was visibly happier; in fact, she was happier than she'd been since the first time my come had covered her face.

I kept to the planned program for the next month, fucking her at least once a day, gradually reducing the dosage of aphrodisiac to zero. Her sex drive remained rock steady for the rest of that period. I was frankly amazed at the ability of her body to compensate for the loss of the drug.

On the last day of the aphrodisiac phase-out, I phoned Suzanne and told her to be ready to go out for dinner at 6:30, wearing the red dress that I had given her on our second date.

I showed up right on time. She greeted me at the door with a kiss. "Hi, honey," she said, bright and cheery. The moment of truth had arrived.

Without a word, I placed a hand on her shoulder and began to push gently downward. With barely a second's hesitation, she sunk to her knees in front of me. Her fingers nimbly undid my pants and brought out my rapidly stiffening cock. She lovingly caressed it a few times, and then took it into her hot, wet, mouth.

Her head began to bob up and down on my shaft, taking long, deep strokes. At the top of each stroke, my cockhead would almost slip out of her mouth, and at the bottom, my pubic hair would tickle her nose. Suzanne had become very proficient at deep-throating after discovering that it was the best way to get a lot of come. Her tongue swished back and forth around my dick as she hungrily sucked on it, occasionally flicking out of her mouth between her lips and my cock. I placed my hands on her head and gently guided her up and down my shaft. A thin coating of her saliva glistened on my dick.

I mentally jumped for joy as I watched Suzanne giving me head. Throught the last week or so, as I'd continued to reduce the aphrodisiac dosage toward zero, I'd constantly worried about what would happen at the end.

The decreasing size of the doses had not had any effect on her sex drive, but I'd wondered whether that final step might be fatal one. There's a big difference between a tiny bit of drug in your system, and no drug at all. I was relieved that Suzanne could function just as well without the drug. Having to shoot her up before she got fucked each time would be a serious impediment to my plans for her.

A wad of jism spurted from the head of my cock. Suzanne began to pump faster, swirling her tongue around my shaft at ninety miles an hour. I released my load into her waiting mouth. She eagerly swallowed as much as she could, but several drops of come escaped from her mouth and trickled down her chin. Her eyes closed as a powerful orgasm shuddered through her body.

After half a minute, she got up and walked back into her bedroom. She emerged some time later with the come wiped from her chin, and her makeup reapplied. She gave me a long, deep kiss. I could smell my come on her breath.

We went to dinner at a five-star Japanese restaurant, where we ate in our own private room, with our own waiter. After the meal, I sent the waiter away. Rising from my chair, I walked over to stand in front of Suzanne. Bending over, I gave her a deep kiss as rubbed her nipple through the taut fabric. Her hand shot to my crotch and squeezed my rapidly stiffening dick. With nothing more than one simple gesture, I had turned the quiet, refined lady with whom I had eaten dinner into a cock-craving slut who would do anything to feel warm jism shoot into her body.

I lifted her up and sat her down on the edge of the table facing me. Knowing what was coming, she pulled her dress up to expose her cunt and lifted her legs to my shoulders. "Oh, God," she moaned, "I need it, Alan. I need it bad." I glanced down as I pulled out my rock-hard cock and saw that she was already wet. It had taken her 15 seconds! "Alannn... I need iiiiit!" she pleaded. This bitch always needed it. I positioned the head of my cock at the mouth of her cunt. "Here it comes, babe," I told her, and slammed into her.

Suzanne gave a shriek of pleasure as I drove my meat into her hot pussy. I paused for a moment, just to listen to her moans. "Oh, yes, yes..." Then, overcome by the display in front of me, I began to piston my shaft in and out of her silky-smooth cunt. She responded, thrusting her hips at me with each stroke. Her well- toned cunt muscles writhed around my cock.

Still fucking her, I reached behind her and pushed the empty dishes out of the way. She allowed herself to be pushed back until she was lying flat on the table. I leaned forward and grasped one breast in each hand as I thrust my shaft in and out of her.

She was bucking at me like a bitch in heat, trying to take my cock as deep into her cunt as possible. She emitted a moan of disappointment as I pulled out of her pussy. I climbed onto the table and straddled her stomach. Like a well-trained animal responding to a familiar situation, she grabbed her tits and squeezed them around my cock.

I began to fuck her tits as she massaged them around my cock. She lapped at my cock each time it thrust through her cleavage into her face. I kept it slow at first because her skin was dry, but after a while the pussy juice on my cock combined with her saliva to lubricate her tits, and I began to fuck faster.

She gasped and moaned as I slid my shaft up and down in the valley between her breasts. Thanks to the training with the Pavlov drug, she got off on this just as much as she got off on sucking cock or getting her cunt fucked.

I felt myself about to come. Lifting my body up off her chest, I positioned my cock over her face. Suzanne grasped it with one hand and began to jack up and down. When I came, she aimed the jism into her mouth, and my first spurt splashed across her parted lips and onto her tongue. She moved my dick for the next two wads of come, taking these on her cheeks and nose. She took the next one on the chin, and then placed my dick in her mouth and slurped down the rest, sending her into another orgasm.

As I finished my orgasm, I looked down at her face. The body that just four months ago belonged to a shy aspiring model from rural Montana who'd only slept with a man three times in her life now belonged to a finely tuned sex machine. With the slightest provocation, her calm, demure personality would drop away, and in its place would be a well-trained living fuck doll.

I used my newly drug-free whore twice more that night. The first time was on the way home, when we got stuck in a trafic jam. I was getting angry at the delay, because I'd been in a hurry to get home and fuck Suzanne again.

Suddenly, I realized how stupid I was being. I'd been assuming that I would have to get home and get the aphrodisiac into her system before I could fuck her. But I was missing the obvious: I didn't need the drug to get her hot anymore. I could make use of her body whenever I felt like it. I kicked myself as I began to unzip my fly.

Suzanne looked over at me, saw what I was doing, and immediately leaned over to finish the job. She freed my cock from the confines of my pants, and immediately went to work. Five minutes later, I shot my jism down the throat of a very contened little slut.

When we got back to her apartment, I immediately fucked her again on her dining room table. No preamble; I just lifted her onto the table. She immediately lay back and pulled up her dress. I came hard in her, and she climaxed every bit as forcefully as she had when she'd sucked my cock in the same room four hours earlier.

I spent the next two months playing with my new toy. I cherished the freedom I had to fuck her whenever and wherever I wanted to, without having to get her to drink something first.

Once we happened to be alone in a subway car and I was feeling horny. As soon as the train pulled away from the station, I pushed her onto one of the seats. Without hesiataion, she lifted her skirt. I fucked her hard for the next two minutes, and we both came just as the train pulled into the next station.

A couple of teenage boys saw us and stared as we cruised past them. I stood up and zipped up my pants as Suzanne pushed her skirt down and brushed it smooth. We passed the snckering teenagers as we left the station. Suzanne, in a post-fuck reverie, was oblivious, but I threw them a wink.

Another time, I felt myself getting an erection in a bar, so I took Suzanne into a phone booth and had her suck me off. She complied with pleasure, leaving some of her pussy juice behind on the floor of the booth.

Suzanne wasn't any less enthusiastic as a result of her constant use. When she wasn't in sex-toy mode, though, she was becoming more and more morose.

I couldn't get her to talk about it. I'm sure that part of her mind was becoming increasingly alarmed at the growing casuality with which I fucked her, and that part was desperate to leave me.

But the stronger part of her mind was addicted to the sex, and couldn't even consider the thought of giving it up.

Thanks to the training I'd given her, the weakest of the four orgasms she had in an average day was far stronger than the most powerful orgasm any other woman could expect to experience in an entire lifetime. Women have become addicted to sex far less powerful than what I was giving Suzanne.

How did I manage to come in her (or on her) four times a day? I'm not really sure; I certainly wouldn't have expected myself to be capable of it before I started doing it to Suzanne. My theory is than any other man who had a hot pussy and a skilled mouth available twenty-four hours a day would find it difficult not to make use of them at least four times a day. When I was feeling really horny, I could do her six or seven times in one day.

She never complained to me about whatever it was that was bothering her, and she let me dictate almost every detail of her life. I moved into her apartment. I didn't even discuss it with her; I just showed up with a suitcase one evening and told her that I'd be living with her from now on, and I'd need someplace to put my clothes. She didn't raise a finger in protest; she just obediently walked back into her bedroom and made space for me in the dresser and closet.

She continued to allow me to determine her wardrobe. I took this to even greater extremes than I had previously. When we went someplace elegant, like a play or society ball, I would have her dress in something elegant, but bordering on trashy, like the red dress I'd gotten her for our second date.

When we went someplace casual, though, I would usually dress her almost like a hooker. One of the outfits I liked consisted of a white fishnet bodysuit that covered her toso, leaving her breasts and nipples visible through the mesh; a short black denim skirt; and a white denim jacket that was cut in such a way as to be impossible to close, but which would just barely conceal her nipples. The gap between her tits was openly displayed, and anoyone who cared to watch closely enough could usually get a glimpse of nipple. I bought several of each component of this suit in different colors, so that she could go in black or red or whatever combination of colors I felt like.

Another classic was her "candy" outfit. This consisted of a halter top with horizontal black and white stripes and a black-and-red pleated skirt. On her feet she wore red-and-white-striped socks and red spiked heels. The outfit was completed by a pair of white kids gloves with red polka dots, a black bow in her hair, and a pair of red plastic hoop earrings with white spots. This outfit was the least slutty of her "casual" ensembles, but it still got the attention of plenty of people, particularly older men, who were no doubt drawn by the almost childlike, yet extremely sexy look of it.

But my favorite outfit was what I thought of as the full-on slut ensemble. This was a black halter top with an obscenely low neckline; a shiny red leather skirt, cut extremely short, just barely covering her ass and hugging her legs tight; and a pair of shiny black leather boots with six-inch stiletto heels that coevered her legs up above her knees. Again, this outfit could be done in several color combinations, but black/red was my favorite.

Sometimes I included fishnet stockings with these outfits; sometimes I just let her legs go bare. I always included high heels. (By this time, she had become so attached to high heels that she would probably be a nervous wreck without them.

Aside from that, the tendons on the backs of her ankles had contracted from never being stressed, and it would have been extremely painful for her to stand, let alone walk, flat-footed.)

I kept her hair long enough to reach her nipples. Each time we went out, I would tell her how to wear it.

When we were going someplace "elegant," it would either be pinned up against her head in typical ballroom style, or conditioned into soft, gentle waves that cascaded over her shoulders. When she was dressing slutty, though, I had her use one of a large variety of styles -- sometimes straight down her back, sometimes in curls or crimped, almost always teased out to maximum volume.

And of course, a wide selection of earrings, bracelets, necklaces, chokers, and anklets was available. These were used tastefully with the elegant outfits (a simple gold or pearl necklace and a bracelet or two on one writst), and liberally with the slutty ones (an overlong faux-pearl necklace dangling down to her navel, and at least two or three gaudy bracelets on each arm).

In order to make space for the new clothes I was buying her, I threw out all of the clothes she had had before I met her. None of them were really useful for her new role. I was surprised, though, to find some rather flashy lingerie in her underwear drawer. Although I had told her that she was never to wear underwear again, I decided to hang on to the lingerie. It might come in handy sometime.

I still took Suzanne to movies and plays and things like that, but I tended to prefer doing things that would let her be seen in public as much as possible. To that end, we often walked around in malls and parks, took shopping trips into downtown, and went to bars and nightclubs to hang out. I would parade around in public with this gorgeous, sluttily-dressed woman on my arm, the envy of every man in sight.

The best time I had during this period happened one evening at a park. Suzanne was fully decked out in halter-top, ass-revealing red leather skirt, and knee-high black leather "fuck me" boots. We had been walking around the park for about an hour.

Every once in awhile I would dart my hand up under her skirt and give her clit a few soft strokes, and then pull back and resume walking. Over time, as I continued this, she became more and more horny and frustrated. I was curious to see just how much she could stand.

Eventually, she took action. As we walked around a bend in the path in the middle of a small stand of trees, she whirled around in front of me and dropped to a crouching position in front of my crotch. With a speed I hadn't thought possible, she whipped my dick out and wrapped her lips around it.

Her tongue whipped back and forth around my cock as her head plunged furiously up and down. I leaned against a tree, savoring the sweet sensations of Suzanne's mouth around my prick. The teasing had gotten her quite excited.

My shaft rapidly grew hard. I pushed my whore's head away from my crotch. She immediately turned around and dropped to her hands and knees, holding her ass high, presenting her dripping pussy to me. "Give it to me, Alan, give it to me!" she begged. I slammed my meat hard into her fuck-tunnel.

I fucked my hot little slut at a furious pace, plunging my thick, hard shaft in and out of her tight, silky cunt. Suzanne bucked hungrily against me, moaning in pleasure each time I thrust into her.

She was oblivious to the fact that we were in a public place, oblivious to everything except the cock filling her up, giving her so much pleasure.

Drawn by Suzanne's cries, a crowd had started to gather, watching interestedly as I screwed Suzanne. The women were scornful, the men envious. But nobody could leave.

As I approached orgasm, Suzanne disengaged her cunt from my cock and turned around to face me. Without a word, she grasped my cock in her hands and jacked it furiously at her face.

I exploded in orgasm, and massive streams of ropy come shot from my prick to splash across Suzanne's face and chest.

She eagerly sucked down what she could, and used her fingers to gather up the rest and put it in her mouth.

Her eyes closed and her body shook as she orgasmed from the taste of my jism, collapsing to the ground in ecstasy.

The crowd watched, awestruck at the sight of the cock-craving slut taking her man's spunk on her face and gobbling it down. I paid them no attention as my orgasm wound down, my last few spurts of come landing on Suzanne's sleek legs.

She lay on the ground, shaking as her orgasm rumbled through her body. I stood over her, exhausted, slowly replacing my cock in my pants and zipping up my fly.

When at last she came down from her orgasm, Suzanne sat up quickly and looked around, realizing for the first time the crowd that had gathered. Her embarassment caused her to recover from the aphrodisiac quickly.

She stood up, blushing in humiliation, and quickly smoothed her skirt down to cover her soaked pussy. Her face and tits were still shiny with my come.

A thin strand of pussy juice dripped from the opening in her skirt down to the ground. Walking slowly, taking my time, I led her away from the crowd, back to the car.

"What a slut," somebody exclaimed behind us. Suzanne gripped my arm tighter, her cheeks burning in humiliation.

Suzanne's attitude when she wasn't primed for sex remained constant throughout this whole period -- a sort of resigned indifference.

She didn't enjoy looking and acting like a slut, but if that's what I wanted, she was willing to do it to keep the sex coming.

She was remarkably cooperative, always doing things immediately and correctly the first time. I never had to raise my voice to her.

She had come to believe that the situation between us was stable.

I got to do almost whatever I wanted with her body, including occasionally humiliating her in public, and if she acted cheerful about it, she got to experience mind-blowing orgasms.

She seemed content to live the rest of her life that way.

Unfortunately for her, it wasn't going to be that easy.

Suzanne's New Career Chapter 4 ========= Spreading the wealth

After I'd spent a month or two enjoying the benefits of having my own private whore ready for me at a moment's notice, I decided it was time to break out of the rut and start the next phase of Suzanne's training. I was counting on this next stage of Suzanne's education to push her over the edge, forcing her to rebel so that I could exert full control over her. Two months to the day after I'd first fucked her without drugs, I took her back to the Japanese restaurant we'd eaten at that night.

I had reserved a private room again. The food was as good as I'd remebered it. I made pleasant small talk, and Suzanne pretended to enjoy it. After dinner, I sent the waiter away, and stood up.

Suzanne, well-trained by this point, immediately got up and walked over to me, ready to be fucked. Placing my hands on her firm ass, I picked her up and set her on the edge of the table. She leaned back and hitched her skirt up, preparing for my entry into her juicy pussy.

I rolled her onto her stomach and spread her legs apart so that I could enter easily. Pulling my hard cock out of my pants, I placed it at the entrance to her cunt, teasing her. She started to moan as she got hot, begging me to fuck her.

Suddenly there was a beeping from my belt. I reached down and unhooked a small pager, pretending to look at the display. Suzanne had opened her eyes and was arched around looking at me questioningly. "Alannnn... do it..."

"I'm sorry, honey; that's my beeper. It's probably important, or they wouldn't have paged me at dinnertime. I'd better go answer it." I zipped up my fly.

"No... I need it... baad..." she moaned, writhing on the table.

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