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The Gizmo

By: rwsteward



Dear reader... I thought I'd have some fun. This is a silly mind control story. Please don't make it into something other than something fun to read. And if you get your jollies from it, that's great! 

Please enjoy this silly story. 

*********** 

Stu and Vicky have been married for ten years, as have their best friends, Paul and Linda. The four of them dated during high school, went to the same college, and settled into the same neighborhood. Paul and Stu both hold excellent jobs; Paul's in charge of multi-million dollar deals with a capital investment company while Stu is an electronics engineer specializing in medical equipment. 

Paul is rough around the edges. It's what makes him successful at his job. Quick to make a decision, Paul's skills are admired by many. His flashing white smile and toned body certainly don't hurt his job. 

Stu on the other hand never did anything without precise and accurate information. His skills in electronics earned him over a dozen patents, mostly in the medical field. Stu, much to the chagrin of Paul, gave away his patents so others could be helped. His hair is receding, and he is known around the hospital as a guy that will stop and tell funny stories to the sick kids. He's been the hospital's Santa Claus for the last five years. Money doesn't hold him prisoner. Methodical. Precise. Likeable. That's Stu. 

Vicky works at the same hospital as Stu as a senior executive in charge of patient care. Vicky's shoulder length brown hair has just a touch of white in it. Vicky dresses like she is ready to meet the Queen of England. Always perfect—always. From her flawless makeup to wearing the latest fashions, Vicky epitomizes the upper middle class senior executive. Vicky's best friend is herself. There is an aura that surrounds her, letting everyone around know that her shit just doesn't stink. 

Linda, however, seemed to relish the rougher side of life. She was drawn toward the bad boys. The ones that got into trouble at school, who made wads of cash, who rode the loud bikes, and could fight their way out of a bar. 

Linda's hair, black as an un-lit alley, is usually tied into a ponytail. When she lets it down, it flows like a living river of black. Her hair picks up the light and reflects it around the room. Her eyes are pinpoints of black. 

Linda works as a trainer at a local health club, and it lent her a look of a lean quick marathon runner. And while Linda was no taller than Vicky, Linda's legs seem to go on forever. Her gait, long and slow, she'd move across a room like a black Siamese cat looking for trouble—and usually finding it. 

Neither one could be called stacked but, even in their mid thirties, men would ogle then as the girls walked by. 

Although both have personalities that seemed to be one hundred eighty degrees apart, other than their hairstyles, they both have the same physical features and could almost pass as sisters. They are best of friends. 

As was the custom, on the third Saturday of the month, they would make a night of it. Sometimes it was nothing more than a few drinks at a local sports bar down the road, sometimes a dinner date at a lounge. It was time to decompress and a time to enjoy life among friends. 

******** 

"They should be here any minute now," I said to Vicky. 

"I almost wanted you to tell them we'd be out of town this weekend. The last time they were here, God... the tension between those two was as thick as butter and permeated the air." 

"I agree." 

I watched my wife set the bar. Vicky had to work a bit later than normal, and had yet to change out of her office attire. I'm kind of use to seeing her dress like she does, but tonight she seemed more refined than usual with a white shirt, charcoal-colored pencil skirt and high heels. Of course, Vicky never went bare legged. She told me years ago that her mother always said, 'Hosiery is the finishing touch to a woman's apparel.' And today, mother would have been proud. Vicky wore a shade of hose that she called 'barely there.' It didn't add much color to her legs, but made her legs shimmer in the light. Knowing my wife the way I do, that was the effect she was after. 

Although my Vicky and Paul's Linda have been close friends since high school, there's always been competition between the two. Vicky makes good money, while Linda's job is more of a hobby. Paul's the breadwinner in their household. We've never talked too much about our finances, but I'd guess Paul makes considerably more than me. 

The girls play games. I have a gut feeling Vicky didn't change out of her office attire because she was running late. She didn't because she knew Paul would eye her up in front of Linda. Best of friends, but always trying to get a little dig in. 

Linda has been growing increasingly upset with Paul's non-stop ogling of the ladies for the last several years. Their marriage had become rocky and cracks were beginning to show. Paul constantly commented about other women and how he'd like to have sex with them. Those comments festered in Linda's mind like a rusty nail. 

We heard the doorbell, and soon the sound of Paul's voice filled the stairwell. "We're here," he yelled. 

"We're down in the den." 

As soon as Paul rounded the basement steps, I had a drink in his hand. He took a sip then raised his glass to my wife who sat on one of the bar stools. Her legs crossed. "I like your outfit." He put the glass to his lips, stopped for a second buying some time, and then lowered it. "Nice legs." 

Linda was a few steps behind Paul, and when she enters our den, she's in sweats and sneakers. Even I felt she should have at least put on some nice dress pants. 

Paul made his way down to our small bar and put his drink down. He leaned over to Vicky and pecked her cheek with a kiss. I noticed, as well as Linda, how his hand cupped around my wife's knee. 

Linda took a seat and wiggled the chair up. "Say, Linda, you have such attractive hair, why not let it down tonight?" I slid over a Captain Morgan with a dash of Diet Coke. 

"It's been a long time since I had someone tell me they'd like to see my hair down." She glanced over at her husband, his hand touching my wife's knee on and off. 

Had that been another guy, I'd have to explain it to him. But Paul? That's the way he is. He's a friendly touchy-feely kind of guy. Touch is a very human thing. When you allow someone to enter your personal space and touch you, well you've lowered your guard. That's why Paul is so damn good as an investment broker. 

Linda shook her head and her long black hair fell across her shoulders. "You're very attractive, Linda," I said. But instead of smiling, she sat fuming; and watched as Paul rested his palm on Vicky's knee. 

I went over. Paul and I began talking about the economy, while the girls chatted about girl stuff. Never, not once, did Paul comment about his wife's hair. It's gorgeous—shinny and black as a shadow in the moonlight. 

Before the second rounds of drinks, Linda began playing her games. She'd talk her shit about how much fun it would be to have sex with Vicky. And every time Paul would comment on it, Linda would lay into him. 

The same conversation cropped up the last time we were together. I knew Paul wouldn't hesitate seeing Vicky and Linda with their fingers between each other's crotch. I pondered my position. If Linda was susceptible to the gizmo, then I could put things in motion—satisfy my curiosity that the gizmo worked on another woman besides my wife. And to watch Linda's tongue work on Vicky's pussy in front of us. It truly was a win-win situation—especially for me. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not into showing off my wife's body to another man. But I certainly wouldn't mind seeing Linda nude, either. I thought for a few moments. 

"Here's another one," I said as I handed my friend a screwdriver. 

"Not too many more," Paul said as he swirled the liquid around in the glass, "someone has to drive tonight." 

"Ah, maybe we'll just stay here tonight. Order a pizza or something," I said as we walked over to a door leading to my workshop. "Besides, Linda didn't exactly dress for a night out on the town. Anyway, let me show what I've been working on." 

Paul followed me into my small and tightly packed workshop that overflowed with all sorts of electronic test equipment, old hospital apparatus, and other electrical odds and ends. I was anxious to tell Paul about my newest project; except I wasn't quite sure how I'd explain what I had stumbled upon with my electronic tinkering. Before the door closed behind us, I stole a glance of the two women sitting in the adjoining den both nursing a drink and talking girl talk. 

Paul looked over at what appeared to be miles of wire spread out across an old cracked card table. He didn't seem overly interested in my project. Paul's mind seemed to wonder as I tried to explain what the jumble of DSP chips and Intel processors were doing. Several small fans hummed in the background. I could tell Paul's mind was still out in the den and the conversation Vicky and Linda had. 

"You know, Stu, sometimes that wife of mine can be a pain in the ass." 

I moved a wire or two while half listening to Paul as I doubled checked a circuit path in my mind. "Humm, why do you say that?" 

"She talks shit. Not fifteen seconds ago, she said to us all how much fun it would be to undress Vicky in front of us. Then when I said I'd enjoy the show she blew a gasket. What I wouldn't give to see your Vicky all prettied up like she is at work and then striped. I'd love to see Linda licking Vicky till she came. Bitch." He practically spat out the word. 

I scratched my chin. "Which one is the bitch?" Opportunity knocked the second time. "How much?" 

Paul raised his glass to his lips. "Linda—classic bitch." He downed the majority of this drink in a few gulps and wiped his face with the back of his hand. "You know it's hard to believe that cute little feminine girl I use to play stink finger with in high school could turn into such a bitch." Paul finished the last of his drink. "How much what?" 

I jiggled a few wires. Satisfied that nothing was astray, I looked at my friend and smiled. "How much would you give to watch your wife undress Vicky and then lick her pussy 'till she came?" 

"In your dreams." 

"No, seriously, how much?" 

"Right..." 

I pulled a small green notebook from my breast pocket and jotted a few things down and turned back to Paul. "I always thought you're the guy that put his money where his mouth was. You were when you were younger. You're getting old, Paul. Would it be worth oh say two-hundred?" 

"I'll show you where my money is." Paul opened his wallet. "Here's my money. One, two, three, four and five. Five hundred bucks. Oh, and we're talking my Linda and your Vicky. Not two hookers with the same names. It takes a lot of bullshit to bullshit me. I do this for a living." 

I grinned ear to ear. "All right then. Let's write down the details—" 

"What fuckin' details?" He grabbed my arm—hard. "All I want to see is Linda strip Vicky and then munch away on Vicky's snatch 'till she comes. I want to watch the whole shebang. What more details do you need for Christ's sake?" 

"She's still wearing her office clothing." I tapped my pencil on the pad. 

"So?" He drummed his fingertips on the edge of the card table. "Okay, I'll be the joke of the evening and I'll play along." Paul rubbed his chin, then pushed the door open a bit, peeking out in the den. "What she has on now will be fine." 

"Excellent choice. I concur whole heartily." 

"Damn, you're really into this aren't you?" He peeked out of the door again. "Panties? She's got to be wearing panties." He turned to me with a question-filled face. "Christ, what bullshit is this?" 

I didn't say a word; I jotted a few more lines in my notebook. Paul couldn't see what I wrote and I guess he assumed it was what we were talking about. I put the pencil down. "My turn." 

Paul's eyes brightened in the dim light of the workshop. "Your turn?" 

"Well yeah, you don't think I'm going to let Linda strip my wife down without me seeing what's behind door number two, do you? I want to see all of Linda's skin, too." I knew that Linda wasn't the girly girl that my wife is. Seeing Linda in a skirt wearing any sort of hosiery is as rare as a solar eclipse at midnight. It would make an excellent test for my gizmo. "Ahh... I know. A garter belt and stockings—" 

"Now I know this is a joke. Hell, I can hardly get her to wear thigh high stockings when we go to an award banquet yet alone a garter belt. She doesn't even own one. Jesus, what shit are you trying to sell me?" 

I ignored my friend and continued. "Well that's what I'd like to see her in, and I know my wife has several. Let's see. Heels of course and a bra—" 

Paul grabbed my arm. A flood of anxieties seemed to bubble to the top of our conversation. "If you're adding things to your bucket list. A slip. I'd love to see my wife wearing a white slip." 

"You're kidding?" I asked. 

"No, I'm not. It cost me over two hundred bucks the last time she wore one." 

"What are you talking about?" 

Paul's face flushed. "That's how much Linda charged me to wear one when we went out a month ago. She knows I like seeing her like that, so it cost me." 

I shook my head. "That's not how a marriage is supposed to work—" 

"Listen, Vicky comes home from the hospital all prettied up—her job demands it. All Linda wears are those damn sweat pants every single day." Paul moved his head side-to-side. "Things aren't too good in our marriage right now." 

I walked over to the card table containing all the pieces parts that tied the gizmo together. I thought deep and hard. Was I about to let the genie out the bottle? And if I did, could I get him back inside? I had to admit, I was anxious. The male part of my brain had been talking louder than the scientist in me. I wanted to see Linda nude. I, too, wanted to see Linda between my wife's legs. I clipped the small green alligator lead to a connection point. A small green light started to brighten and then dimmed. "Let's see if this works..." 

We walked into the den with Paul lagging behind a few steps. "It takes several minutes for the effect of the gizmo to build up." 

Vicky and Linda were sitting on the sofa chatting about nothing of great importance. I walked over and stood about ten feet in front to the two women. 

I found that Vicky will blink her eyes three or four times and when she does, I know she is under my control. I took a few steps back. "Look," I said as I pointed my finger at Vicky. Her eyes were blinking as were Linda's. "That's it." I looked at Paul standing next to me. "Girls? Stand over here in front of me." 

They stood and took a few steps. "Now Paul and I would like you both to do something for us. Would you like to help out? How about having a little fun tonight?" 

They looked at each other. "Sure." 

"Okay then. Vicky, I'll start with you first. Are you wearing panties?" 

"Of course I am." 

"That was silly of me to ask, wasn't it? But tonight, Paul and I would like to see you in something a bit more racy." 

"Like what?" Vicky asked. 

"Ooh, I don't know." I looked over my shoulder at Paul. I shrugged. 

Paul sputtered as his train of thought derailed. Suddenly, he belted out, "Lacy panties, black if you have them. With the sheerest misty black pantyhose you own, too." 

I looked at Paul, "Sometime ago, I found that Vicky has a bit of a fixation with anything nylon." I grinned ear to ear. "Fantastic choice." I looked at Vicky. "Wear a pair of your good heels, too. Any problems with that?" 

Vicky smiled. "No problem. Do you want me to wear a bra?" 

I looked over my shoulder at Paul. "Your call buddy?" 

Paul stood in awe, almost in shock, at the laid back demure of Vicky. "Paul?" 

"Ah huh, ah why not. Sure, I mean why not" 

I grinned at Paul's predicament. "Wear a half-cup bra, Vicky." My wife isn't that heavy on top and when she wears a half-cup it enhances her cleavage. 

The gizmo was working perfectly, at least on my Vicky. Now the moment of truth. Would Linda be under my control? She hadn't run up the steps screaming, so I felt confident, the gizmo had her under its influence. 

"Now, Linda." 

"Yes, Stu?" 

I looked at Linda in her sweats and sneakers. "You need to show off that figure of yours. Vicky has some garter belts. Pick one out along with some beige or ivory-colored stockings." 

Paul cleared his throat. "Oh shit that's right Paul, almost forgot. Linda, the same goes for you, too. Panties that barely cover your hairs down below." 

"White heels, too, for Linda," Paul added almost sheepishly. 

"That should do it for right now," I said. He grabbed my arm. "And a white slip, too." 

Linda smiled. "Okay. Do you want us to get dressed now?" 

"Yes, right now. Try and be back down here in say oh ten minutes?" I snapped my fingers. "Linda, half-cup bra for you, too." 

Linda and Vicky walked briskly up the stairs. Soon we could hear them in the bedroom upstairs. 

"What is this shit, Stu? Those two are in on it, aren't they?" 

"Nope, they don't have a clue. They do only what I tell 'em to do. They're under my absolute influence—for right now." 

Paul shook his head and smiled. "Bullshit!" 

I moved over to the bar. "Here, I'd best make you another drink." I fiddled with some liquor bottles and handed Paul a glass. "It all started out about six months ago. I was working in the ER when a guy came in who got beat up in a car wreck. They wanted to do an EEG on him but he had so much damage to his skull, they couldn't. I thought I could come up with a way to read brain waves without the wires. That's how it started out, but like most great inventions... well months later, I came up with the project that occupies that card table in the other room. It acts more as a transmitter than a receiver of brain waves." 

"You mean that pile of junk that looks like the day the radio blew up is controlling our wives?" Paul took a sip of his drink and placed into the bar with a clink of the ice. 

"Not exactly controlling. I'd venture to say it's inhibiting certain parts of the brain. Look at this way. The gizmo, that's what I'm calling it, blocks certain brain waves like a dam holds back water. Since the part of the brain that controls reason is deprived of that information, I suggest whatever I like and the mind agrees." 

"Just like that, huh?" 

"That's my theory." I felt my eyebrows as they rose and wrinkles formed on my forehead. "The mind...infinitly complex. To be honest, I'm just speculating." I continued. "The mind is still sending out commands, but because the dam is holding them back, I'm free to insert whatever I want. Of course there are limits, some suggestions or commands won't work because just like a dam, a person's internal dialogue overtops it and they won't do it. I can't for example tell Vicky to go rob a bank or murder someone." I scratched my chin, buying time so I could find the words that explained how the gizmo worked even though I wasn't sure myself. 

"There is a range issue, too. Since the gizmo is in the basement, the best range I've gotten is about ten meters outside our house. 

"If I continue with the analogy of the dam, by holding back certain cognitive thoughts that normally constrain desires and fantasies, and then allow them to be released, the flood gates are opened." It's not rocket science. Men have been getting woman drunk since booze was invented. The booze lowers cognitive thoughts and inhibitions." I smiled at Paul. "It's like opening a bottle of beer, those depressed desires come bubbling up." 

I blushed. "Vicky has a bit of a fetish when it comes to wearing nylon such as panties, stockings, and even pantyhose. She likes to be feminine. While the Gizmo is running, that fetish is allowed free rein. There's nothing holding those feelings back, like those beer bubbles." I tipped my head back and took a long gulp of my drink. "And I'm shaking the bottle." 


The Gizmo



Paul sat quietly nursing his drink. "I wish Linda had that little problem." Paul's eyes met mine and I could see the pain they projected. "Linda and I...uh, we haven't been together for a while. We don't sleep together anymore." Paul shrugged and then tipped his head back and downed the remainder of his drink. "All right, let's hear the whole sales pitch." 

"I found out by accident that I could suggest things to Vicky and she would, without hesitation, do what I asked. I formed a quick hypothesis that if what I suggested was already an idea planted in her mind, my suggestions could be more liberal. Since our wives were talking about how they'd thought about satisfying another woman, and this conversation came up several times in the past, then those ideas were already there. Even though it may have been just for our benefit, the seeds were planted so to speak, and all I needed to do was add some water and let them sprout. I haven't run enough tests, but the gizmo seems to work only on women." 

I took another sip of my drink. "I also found I can insert a thought into Vicky's mind—giving her a memory if you will—that continues on after I turn the gizmo off. But—" 

"But what?" Paul interrupted. 

"If a memory is already in place, I can't erase it. I can only prevent new memories from being formed." 

I felt my face turn sugar beet red. "I had a rough day last week, and I wanted a bit of a sexual release—a hooter. Vicky wasn't in the mood. I turned on the gizmo, got my blow job, and when I turn my machine off, she instantly forgot she blew me ten minutes earlier." 

I smiled deeply at Paul. "I've been fucking her brains out every other night and other than complaining about being tired the next day, she doesn't remember a thing—unless of course I tell her. I found out that I have to be careful as well. I suggested to her that we should have anal sex—" 

Paul grabbed my arm. "You fucked Vicky in the ass?" 

"Yeah, but it cause unbelievable problems. We did it and when I turned the machine off, she was sore back there. I couldn't explain it away. Christ, can you imagine what would have happened if she went to the doctor's office, and he told her she had anal sex, and then she couldn't remember a single second of it happening to her?" 

Paul smiled ear-to-ear. "I'll be damned. Miss 'I'm too good, nose-in-the-air', got a cock up her ass." Paul shook his head then pushed his empty glass in front of me. I quickly refilled it. "Damn, I can't believe you fucked Vicky in the ass. I'd sure like to fuck that ass. She's always so stuck up with herself." 

"That's why tonight, neither one of us can have sex with our wives—" 

Paul tilted his head to one side. "Whatdoyamean?" 

"Think about it. One minute they're sitting on that sofa across from us, and then with I turn the machine off, they'll have cum dripping out of their pussies. Tell me Paul, how would you explain that to Linda?" 

Paul ran his finger along the rim of the glass. "You know sometimes, Stu, your logic can be most irritating." 

"They're not hypnotized or in a trance. Both girls will interact with us as though nothing has changed. They'll have conversations and ask questions. They'll interact with us like normal. The operation of the gizmo is completely transparent. Absolutely ignorant of lost of cognitive control of their feelings, wants, and desires. They're completely unaware of what I've suggested they do." I raised my glass in the air. "To the gizmo!" 

"That's amazing—amazing bullshit! You almost had me there old friend for a few minutes—almost!" 

We heard the sound of our wives talking at the top of the stairs. When Vicky and Linda turned the corner and entered the den, Paul damn near fainted. Linda wore a short white slip that fell to the middle of her thighs. They carried their shoes by their straps, and then both nonchalantly sat on the sofa. They slipped their heels on and fastened the straps that wound around their ankles. They sat there as though nothing was wrong. Absolutely and totally oblivious they were sitting in front of us dressed exactly the way I told them to. Vicky looked so office-like in her charcoal pencil skirt. The barely black hose she wore make her skirt seem shorter than it was. 

Linda, who sat beside her, appeared like she was about to finish dressing but decided to forego her clothing. Linda's black hair fell down across her chest covering her breasts, held in restraint by a small nylon half-cup bra. We could see Linda's nipples about to overtop the thin almost translucent material. 

"What in the name of God?" Paul said in utter amazement. 

"I told you," I began, "but you wouldn't listen. Now, what do you want them to do?" 

"Anything I want?" 

"Within reason." I looked at Paul with the sternest look. "Remember what I said. Neither one of us can have sex with them. Not this time." 

Paul's eyes were transfixed. "Damn, what a shame. Will you look at Linda? God's she so hot." Paul turned quickly toward me. "Are you sure we can't?" 

"Absolutely, not this time." I grabbed Paul's arm. "Trust me right now. Anything but sex with them." 

I decided to get things moving so I looked over at Linda then back at my friend. Instantly, I hit a roadblock. Sitting not more than three meters in front of me is my best friend's wife half dressed and my wife in her office attire. What do you do? My mind ran though scenario after scenario and couldn't come up with something that would be explainable later on. Then like a ton of computer chips falling on me, I had an idea. 

Linda kept teasing Paul about how she'd like to eat my wife's pussy, and Paul wanting to see Linda undress Vicky. I had to admit, I was having second thoughts of exposing my wife's body to his eyes, especially after I caught him playing touchy feely with Vicky's knee earlier. 

"Let's get this show on the road," he said. I watched as a nervous tick pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

I held my breath for a second then looked at Linda. "Linda, would you stand?" 

She did. 

"Show Paul what's under your slip." She reached down and held the slip to her waist. 

"Jesus! She's wearing a fuckin' garter belt—with fuckin' stockings! Are they drugged?" 

"I told you, they're under the influence of my apparatus in the other room. As long as it's running, they'll do about anything I ask. Watch this," I said calmly. 

"Vicky, would you walk back and forth in front of Paul and I?" 

Vicky smiled then stood and walked to the end of the narrow den and proceeded to walk its length. A symphony in motion, we watched as Vicky made several trips back and forth. The pencil skirt kept her stride short. There's something about watching an attractive woman in high heels walk about. It was quiet in the room, and with every step she made, the nylon on her legs made a swishing sound. I noticed the look on his face. 

When Vicky reached our end of the den, I stopped her. All pencil skirts have either a slit up the side or one down the back. Otherwise, you'd play hell walking while wearing one. Vicky's skirt was no exception—the slit was up the back. 

"Honey, turn around and open the skirt's slit?" 

She stopped, reached down and moved the right side of her skirt up, exposing most of the back of her right thigh. We could see a bit of her ass cheeks under her pantyhose. 

She followed my instructions to the letter. I had her lift the left side, then both at the same time. I glanced over at Paul. He had his hand running over the bulge on the front of his pants. I went for broke. 

"Honey, roll your skirt up until it's mid-thigh." 

I heard a zipper coming down. Paul had his cock out, and his fingers clasped 'round its length. He was about to jack himself off as he looked at my wife. I felt both proud and disgusted at the same time. 

We heard a noise. Linda came over. With her inhibitions being held back by the gizmo, her innermost feelings surfaced. 

"That's it. Jack off while you look at another woman. You wonder why we don't have sex anymore? Do you think it's because of shit like this? Why don't I get prettied up for you? Why don't I? I'll tell you why. You're always after another new piece of ass." 

"Baby, that's not true!" 

"Oh no?" She looked at his dick hanging out of his pants. "Who's the hard cock for?" 

"Linda," I interrupted, trying to regain control of my experiment. "It's not a contest." I pointed my finger at Vicky and motioned her to come over. She did. 

I looked at the two of them standing side-by-side. "Vicky, take Linda's bra off." 

She did so without hesitation. Linda didn't move a muscle. "Put it on the bar." 

Linda has a fine set of boobs. Not large, not small, about right. More than a handful, her nipples hardened and stood erect like new pencil erasers. 

We've seen our wives in skimpy bathing suits before, and I know it was wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I stood only a meter away from Linda: I reached out and palmed her breasts. They were warm, smooth, and belonged to my best friend's wife. 

His eyes stabbed at me for a second, then his glare returned to Linda. 

"Lift your slip to your tits," Paul said. 

Linda's fingers gathered the hem of the slip and pulled it up. A matching white bikini panty barely covered her pussy. The hooks and straps held up the barely white stockings. 

Paul wet his lips while his eyes were glued at his wife's body. Only the two of them knew how long it's been since he's seen her this way. 

"Now Linda, spread your legs a bit," I asked. Linda's heels scuffed across the carpet. 

"How's that?" she asked. 

"Christ! Look at that!" Paul almost fainted when he noticed Linda's panties didn't begin to cover all her short black hairs. They stuck out from the white triangle of her panties in short, tight black curls. 

"Did you see that?" 

"Yes, Paul, I'm right here. But that's nothing. Watch this." I had something special for Paul to see, and I also wanted to know if it's going to work on Linda, too. 

"I found out, by accident actually, that I could plant a stimulus in Vicky's neural pathway as though it had a physical beginning." 

"Skip the techno-babble. What the hell are you talking about?" Paul asked. His eyes never left his wife's crotch. 

"I guess a demo would be better than trying to explain it." I looked at Vicky standing beside Linda. "Come here, honey." She came over and stood between Paul and me. I looked at Paul. "Roll your skirt up to your waist." Her fingers reached down and rolled the hem up until it was as high as it could be. 

"Like this?" 

"Perfect, babe. Perfect." The pantyhose she wore were absolutely sheer. There wasn't even the normal cotton gusset in the crotch. Only the tinniest hint of a seam that ran down her crotch and back up between her ass cheeks. A small pair of lace black panties covered her pussy. 

"Now, watch her crotch." I pointed my finger at Vicky's pussy. 

"Vicky, honey, you're getting wet. Oh so wet. All you can think about is how wet you're getting. You can't stop it. It's a flood. Wet, Vicky. You're wet beyond anything you've ever known. Your juice is pouring out of you. You want to feel your hot wet juice drip out of your pussy. Make your pussy wet for Paul. Make your pussy wet for me." 

"Oh! Oh! OH!" Vicky moaned as she brought her knees together. Vicky's freed a hand and rubbed her breasts through her shirt. Paul watched as her nipples stiffen and pushed into her shirt. 

Paul sat in wonderment as he watched the front of Vicky's panties turn almost translucent then drops of her moisture gathered between her legs. Soon, her panties were sodden with her wetness. Paul's mouth gaped. Her pantyhose quickly became soaked, and long thin filaments of sweet clear liquid oozed through her hose and dribbled onto the carpet. Paul watched so intensely he slipped off the stool and almost fell onto the floor. 

I smiled at Paul. "Why have one when you can have two? Linda, why don't you stand and let us take a look." 

"God, Linda, you're beautiful," Paul said. 

Linda stood in front of us. The half-slip she wore stopped just short of mid-thigh. Her breasts were bare and they stood out from her body. Linda's white heels seemed so fragile any slight movement would be their undoing. 

Taking a clue from me, Paul lowered his voice. "Linda, pull your slip to your tits. Now you're getting wet. Oh so wet. You can't contain it. Your panties can't hold it back. You're dripping. Oh so wet." 

"Ooh! Oh, God!" Her hands gripped the bar. Her panties also turned translucent as her juice filled her crotch. Small drops converged into a flood that soon had her panties saturated. Dozens of crystal drops leaked though and fell to the floor. 

Paul took a few steps back and watched in stunned amazement as his wife's panties filled with her juice. "We're going to be fuckin' kazill-billionaires! I'm going to buy Saudi fuckin' Arabia!" 

"Now wait a second, Paul, these are only experiments. I'm navigating uncharted territory here." 

Paul and I discussed various aspects of the gizmo with him claiming I didn't know what I had, and me trying to tell him that this was bigger than he thought. We didn't pay attention to the wives, and they moved away from the bar. 

A few minutes later, Paul tapped my shoulder. I looked over at the girls. 

Vicky stood in the middle of the den, the hem of her pencil skirt back down to her knees. Linda made a slow winding circle around her. She wore the white heels, the ivory stocking, but was bare on the top. She took her slip off. Linda's black hair, those stockings and garter belt, and except for a riding crop, she could pass for a Dominatrix, ready to invoke punishment to her submissive. 

Linda completed a third circle around Vicky like a cougar stalking her pray, and as she did, Linda's fingers moved across Vicky's breasts. She toyed with them gently through her shirt. Vicky's eyes were still closed and swayed in her heels. A soft coo...slipped out between long slow breaths. 

Linda continued making small circles around Vicky. And with each pass, Linda's hand would touch an intimate part of Vicky's body. Running a fingertip down her spine, lifting the back of her skirt up over her ass. This was it. The moment of truth. 

"Linda," I said quietly, "She's yours and you can do to her as you please." I thought we'd get the show Linda teased Vicky about for the last few months. 

Linda's hand touched Vicky's cheek. "Anything? Anything at all?" 

"Whatever you want...Linda," Vicky said. 

Vicky's Macintosh apple red lips parted just a bit, allowing a hot lusty breath to slowly pass through. Her golden-green eyes blinked behind eyelashes that were long with perfectly applied mascara. Linda moved seductively around Vicky, running her hands along the side of Vicky's body. Linda's fingers moved up the front of her shirt and circled Vicky's breasts then continued on up the side of her neck then with just a tip of her fingers. Linda pushed a shirt button through its hole. 

"What's she doing?" Paul asked. 

"I don't know. Remember what I said. Latent fantasies and desires pop up. I think she's going to strip Vicky and do what she said she was going to do to her." 

"Oh, the money we'll make," Paul said as he watched his wife tantalize Vicky. 

More buttons' released their grip. Linda folded my wife's shirt back onto her shoulders. Vicky never said a word. Her breasts seemed to float in the half-bra she wore. The white skin seemed to glisten in the overhead lights. She stood like a solider being inspected at roll call. Linda pulled a bra strap from Vicky's shoulder. She let it go with a snap. 

Linda took a step, then another, till she was inches away from Vicky's red lips. "You've always thought you were better. Better than me. Even in high school, you had your nose in the air," Linda said as she moved her finger across Vicky's delicately powered cheek. Linda licked her finger. "You taste good." 

Linda completed another circle. She stopped in front of Vicky and gently lifted her chin. "Remember in college during our junior year you got me drunk." 

"That was so long ago." 

"Not for me. Don't you remember what you did to me? What they did to me?" 

"We were young. We were drunk." 

"Ah, you do remember." 

Vicky shook her head. "No..." 

"Sure you do. Vicky, what did you do to me?" 

Vicky swayed in her heels, and lowered her head till her eyes were glazing at the carpet. "No...That was so long ago." 

Linda raised Vicky's chin. "Well, let me refresh your memory. We went out with a couple of boys we knew. You and our dates got me drunk, and then you stripped me in front of them. After I was nude you pushed my knees up to my ears and showed me off. You pulled my lips away from my pussy. More booze. You coaxed me into masturbating in front of those guys. That's what you did." 

"Linda, we were young and stupid. I didn't—" 

"You didn't what?" 

Vicky eyes grew red. "I didn't know how much pain it would cause you. I'm sorry." 

Linda drew in a long breath and her fingers moved across Vicky's bare shoulders. "All the 'I'm sorrys' in the world won't pay my bill." 

Linda splayed my wife's shirt open. "My, my, what nice tits you have." Her fingers moved along the top of my wife's boobs. "It's a shame to keep them hidden away like they are." 

She moved her head to within inches of Vicky's ears. "I'm going to strip you. Strip you down to nothing just like you did to me in college. I'm going to show you off to my husband. I'm going to let him see your pussy in all its naked glory. Then you'll get on your knees and place those lips with their flawless lipstick around Paul's cock, and you're going to suck him dry. You're going to swallow his cum and beg for more. 

"But you won't be done then, oh no. You're going to sit on the couch and while our husbands watch, you're going to rub one out for us." 

"No..." 

"Remember what you said... Anything." 

"Fascinating!" I said and quickly scrambled to fish out my small notebook. I quickly jotted down a few lines. "I wasn't expecting this." I scribbled some more. "It appears that suppressed emotions bubble to the surface, too. This is simply amazing!" I walked back to the bar and sat beside Paul. 

"Jesus, Stu, put that fuckin' notebook away. This is unreal—" 

"Don't you see it?" 

"See what?" 

"Linda's hidden resentment to Vicky has been allowed to surface. Only her conscience kept it in place. Now, the gizmo has allowed those thoughts to emerge without control. 

"I'm totally blown away by this. Not only had Linda's hidden emotions come to the surface, she's taken over, and Vicky... Wow, she's following her instructions as though you or me were giving them." 

"Lose the shirt, Vicky," Linda cooed into Vicky's ear. Her warm breath blew by with every word she spoke. "Drop it on the floor." 

Vicky wiggled the shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. 

Linda stood in front of Vicky. She looped her fingers though the shoulder straps and tugged on them slightly. "Let's show Paul your tits now." 

"Please don't, Linda." 

"Why? Could it be you're ashamed? I don't have a bra on and your husband is seeing my tits. It's not right not to share, is it?" 

"Linda, please..." 

"What's going on?" Paul looked at me with a question-filled face. 

I scratched my head. "I don't know. Perhaps Vicky knows what she did was wrong and will now pay for the deed. She knows she owes Linda, but is still holding back. Paul, I simply don't know." 

Linda pulled Vicky's hands to her sides. "That's a good girl." Linda squeezed my wife's nipples and they hardened before our eyes. Her tits seemed about to overtop her bra. "Good girl." 

Linda's hands reached behind Vicky's and freed the small catch holding her bra. Her finger wiggled into the middle of Vicky's bra and pulled it from her body. Vicky's breasts, about the size of apples, stood proudly. A strawberry areola surrounded each perk nipple. Linda gave each one another hard pinch. 




The Gizmo



My wife's champagne goblet breasts were simply breathtaking. We're married for Christ sakes and I've seen her nude countless times, perhaps the uniqueness of her standing there with my friends, topless, made her appear even more sexy. 

Linda seemed delighted and her fingers began wandering up and down Vicky's butt. "Nice ass you have here." Linda face looked triumphant as an evil grin grew. She looked at her friend standing in total compliance. "Time we get serious. Unzip your skirt." 

Vicky's fingers were under Linda's control, and they instantly went behind her back and worked on the skirt's clasp. Seconds later the sound of a zipper releasing its hold filled the quiet room. Vicky held her skirt up with one hand. 

"Let go," Linda commanded. 

When my wife let go, the skirt fell only a few inches before coming to a rest about mid thigh. 

"All the way down," Linda added. 

Vicky pushed and wiggled until the pencil skirt pooled unceremoniously around her black Manolo Blahnik high heels. 

Vicky's tight ass was covered in barely black pantyhose. "Step out of the skirt." I watched as Vicky kicked it across the den. She stood obediently. 

"Do you really think that the people that work with you give a fat rat's fuck if you wear shoes that would cost them four months salary? Do you?" 

"It's not that..." 

"Oh, I see." 

Paul and I watched as Linda wiggled a fingertip under the waistband of Vicky's hose and pulled out the sewn-in cotton tag. 

"Wolford pantyhose. What, about..." Linda rolled her eyes, "about sixty bucks a pair?" 

"Paul can afford to buy you Manolo Blahnik shoes as well as Wolford hosiery," Vicky countered. "Besides," she began again, "lingerie is what being a woman is all about. My mother told me that stockings finish the outfit." 

Linda moved her hands down across the back of Vicky's butt covered in sheer nylon. "You always wear hose, don't you?" Linda asked. 

"Yes, I like the feel of them on my legs." 

"I see," Linda said as she wiggled her fingers into the tiny, thin, waistband of Vicky's pantyhose. Linda pulled on the hose drawing it away from Vicky's ass. "And stockings, too?" 

"Yes, all the time. My mother said—" 

"Too bad. Mom's, not here." 

Linda started to tease Vicky's pantyhose down. A fingertip ran around Vicky's waist and little-by-little those expensive Wolfords slowly slipped down Vicky's waist. 

When Linda bent over to work on my wife's hose, the bikini panties Linda wore wiggled between her ass cheeks. What a sight! Linda rolling my wife's pantyhose down, bent over in stockings and a garter belt. A few more shimmies and Vicky's hips were bare. A long, teasing, languid tug and the Wolfords were down to her knees. 

Vicky reached down and stopped Linda's hands. "Please. No. Please. Not my pantyhose. Not my nylons." 

Linda stood, then circled around Vicky. "I see." From behind she took her foot and with the tip of Linda's high heel, she pushed the rolled pantyhose down a bit more. "Everything comes off." Linda turned her head and looked at me. 

Linda's hands cupped Vicky's breasts and then placed a small kiss on each nipple. Vicky swayed even more till she almost fell to one side, catching herself by taking a few steps. 

A smirk filled Linda's face. "You're to do anything I ask." Linda went down on her knees and pushed Vicky's hose down to her ankles. Linda smiled at Paul as she worked the buckles loose on Vicky's heels. Linda slipped one shoe off then the other. "Almost ready for you, honey." Linda looked up at Vicky. "Say goodbye to your precious pantyhose." Linda yanked Vicky's hose from her toes. 

Linda stood and flipped the pantyhose over her shoulder in triumph; like the spoils of war. Then she slipped her arm inside one of the legs. Linda pulled the soft material up her arm, and her fingers spread out into the foot of the hose. "Expensive. So soft and so very sheer." She pulled them back across her face. "I enjoy the softness, too. After a hard day at that damn smelly gym, I'd love to dress in nice things like this." Linda looked over her shoulder at Paul, "You don't care what I wear; you're too busy hitting on the clerk at the gas station." 

Linda pulled the crotch of Vicky's hose across her face. "Hummm, you smell like a woman." With her hand still inside the hose, she caressed Vicky's breasts running back and forth across Vicky's nipples. 

"Ooooooo," Vicky moaned as her knees moved together. 

"Well, well, well. You do like the feel of those on your skin. I bet I could make you cum." 

She reached inside Vicky's small black panties and rubbed her clit with her nylon covered finger. Vicky stood on tiptoes. "Ooooo." 

"My, my," Linda said as she stroked Vicky's clit several more times. "I knew you liked playing dress up but now I understand." Linda gave Vicky's clit a few more teasing rubs which saturated the thin nylon along with her fingers. Linda withdrew her hand, but stopped on the tiny strap of Vicky's panties. She took her hand out from the hose, and tossed them on the floor. Her fingers returned to my wife's panties. "Time's up." Linda pulled the black lace panties down and off. Vicky stood naked in front of us. Linda wiggled her fingers at Paul. Unable to speak at what was happening before us, Paul finally took a few steps in. 

"On your knees," Linda said as she pushed on Vicky's back. "You're going to suck my husband off and swallow his cum." 

"No...Linda I'm sorry,' Vicky said as she lowered herself down onto the floor. 

Linda bent over. "You remember what happened after you stripped me. I blew three of your friends that night while you watched and laughed. Open your mouth!" Linda wiggled her finger at Paul once more. "It's time." 

Paul took a few steps in closer. "Pull it out, dear. You always wanted this from her, didn't you? Christ, you couldn't even keep your hands off of her tonight." 

Paul unzipped his fly and a hard, engorged, cock poked out. I've seen Paul in the shower at the gym, but I didn't think he measured up like I saw him now. 

Vicky hesitated. She could smell it, the warm, musky, sweaty man smell. The head was shiny and pink and purple. 

Paul pushed the head of his cock between Vicky's waiting lips. Vicky wrapped her hand around his cock, and made a few short strokes when Linda reached out and slapped her bare ass. "No! Don't you dare jack him off in your mouth. Suck him! Suck him like the slut you really are under all those fancy clothes and makeup. Suck him off like you made me do fourteen years ago. Hands on the floor!" 

Vicky began to suck and lick Paul's cock. He filled her mouth. Linda stood smiling as she watched her friend lick and suck her husband's manhood. "Good. Lick it," Linda called out. "Suck on his balls, too. Put 'em in your mouth. 

I stood quietly, watching what was transpiring before my eyes. I didn't know whether to be angry or inspired by the way the gizmo was working. Clearly I didn't foresee the hidden discontent Linda held for her best friend, my wife, Vicky. I certainly didn't believe Vicky would be on her knees sucking off my friend in my own den. 

Paul and Vicky rocked together. His hands flowed down along my wife's shoulders, playing with her hair. He jerked and grabbed her head and pushed his cock deeper into her mouth. He moaned and his back arched. I watched his gaze as it fixed on Vicky's pearlescent moon. 

Linda dropped to her knees, and watched my wife's mouth slide back and forth along the hard shaft of my friend. His cock wet from Vicky's saliva. 

"You like sucking cock, don't you? Who'd have known the office prima donna would be naked, and on her hands and knees sucking the cock of a man she wasn't married to. The same office bitch that wears eight-hundred dollar shoes and sixty buck a copy pantyhose." 

"Linda! I'm going to cum!" Paul screamed. 

I didn't see this coming. Paul yanked his cock out from between Vicky's lips. He pushed her head to the floor and her ass rose up. He spooned her wet pussy and rubbed his wet cock. He jammed his mushroom head cock up Vicky's ass. 

"Oh! Christ!" Vicky yelled. 

"I've always wanted to do this," Paul gasped. He blew out short powerful breaths through clinched teeth. "Take it all!" He lunged deeper and Vicky yelled once more. She spread herself across the carpet, Paul's cock still buried deep in her ass. 

"Fuck her tight ass," Linda added. "Fuck her for me!" 

They seemed locked together and with each thrust Paul made, Vicky would rock forward. It didn't take long. Paul arched his back and he dug his fingertips into the carpet. His body trembled and jerked as he fills my wife's ass with his cum. He withdrew from her, reached over and wiped his dick on Vicky's discarded bra that lay on the carpet. 

"Good girl. Just like our college days. Now, sit on the couch." 

Vicky did as she was told. I watched as Paul's come oozed out of Vicky's ass and down the back of her leg. Linda walked around and den and picked Vicky's shoes from the carpet. She tossed them to Vicky. "Put 'em on. Fasten the straps." 

The three of us watched Vicky as she slipped her delicate toes in her shoes. She lifted one leg over her knee and fastened the straps around her tiny ankle. She did the same to the other shoe then sat with her feet on the floor and her hands folded on her lap. She looked at us. 

"I'm sorry, Linda. I was young. We were young. What if it was me instead of you?" 

Linda took Vicky's chin in her hand. "It wasn't." 

Linda looked at me. I wondered if she wanted to say something or perhaps wanted me to stop her. I realized that such deep emotion had to be released. I didn't say a word. 

Paul quickly pulled his pants up and sat beside me. He plowed his fingers through his hair. "What do you want me to say? I couldn't help it. I've fantasized about that for years. Christ, Stu, what did you expect?" 

Yeah, what did I expect? You can't drop a hungry fox in a chicken coop, and then get mad when he eats the chickens. Was I mad? I don't know. He just fucked my wife in the ass. I watched and didn't raise a finger to stop it. I felt numb. 

"Now, the pièce de résistance," Linda said getting our attention once more. 

Vicky leaned out from the back of the couch. "No... I'm so very sorry. Please don't make me..." Vicky knew what was going to transpire. 

"Fourteen years too late. Raise your knees so your shoes are on the edge of the couch." 

We watched as Vicky moved her legs and placed her shoes exactly where Linda said. The spiked heels dug in and held Vicky's feet from slipping off. Linda smiled. 

"Spread your knees apart now." 

Vicky moved her knees splaying herself to us. 

The entire scene looked so fuckin' bizarre. Paul had his half-erect cock back out, Linda topless, stockings and white high heels on her legs and feet. And my wife, sitting nude on the couch with her knees up to her ears, her pussy showing between her legs. A sliver of light brown hair curled around her pussy lips. They were wet and looked so soft. I was hard, too. I couldn't help it and I unzipped my pants. My cock darted out. A few drops of precum dripped off the tip. 

"Wider!" Linda commanded. 

Vicky moved her knees apart as wide as she could. Linda smiled at us. Then looked at Vicky. "Spread your lips." 

Vicky didn't say a word, perhaps she knew it wasn't going to make any difference. Fingers at her pussy, her own fingers, forced there by another woman's command, dipped into her quivering pussy lips. They were soaked. She groaned. 

With both hands, her fingers pulled back her wet engorged pussy lips. Her clit popped out from its hood, and stood at attention like a miniature solider. It was wet and shinny and rose red. 

"Finish yourself off," Linda instructed. 

I couldn't believe my eyes when Vicky moved a fingertip and began to slowly make small circles around her swollen clit. She closed her eyes. She moved a hand to fondle her breasts. She toyed at her nipples, pulling them, teasing them. Paul and I stood in disbelief. 

"Ohh." A long soft breath blew between my wife's lips. She licked her lips. 

At first she rubbed two fingers over and around the lips of her pussy. Then she began to occasionally flick her clit. Every time she touched it, her body arched and her knees came together. She slipped two fingers in and began to finger fuck herself. Then, she'd pull out her fingers, wet from her own juice, and flick her clit with her thumb. 

She kept masturbating and her rhythm increased to vehemence. She began to slowly moan. Suddenly, her thighs slammed together. Her fingers jammed into her pussy. She quivered and squirmed on the couch as her whole body tightened while her orgasm ripped through her. Her shoes slipped off the edge and she stretched out her legs. They shook. 

The room became silent. Still. Quiet. Time passed. 

"Are we even?" Vicky asked, breathing heavily. 

Linda nonchalantly walked to the side of the den, and picked Vicky's black panties from the floor. Paul and I stared as Linda sashayed over to Vicky. 

"Your hand," Linda commanded. 

Linda dropped the panties into Vicky's open palm. 

Linda took Vicky's hand and placed it between her legs. "You're wet, Vicky. Tremendously wet. You're going to drip. Drip pussy juice for me and our husbands. Oh, Vicky, you can't stop the flood." 

"Jesus," I said, then looked at Paul. "She's not only taken over, she's learned from me." 

We watched as my wife rubbed her pussy with the black panties. Soon it was as wet as a washcloth. 

Linda took it from Vicky's hand. Then pulled her onto her feet. "Open wide, office slut," Linda bragged in triumph. 

"Please, Linda, don't—" That was all she got before Linda jammed the soaked panties between her lips. 

"I want you to taste yourself. Don't spit it out!" Linda warned. 

Linda scrambled across the den and fetched Vicky's pantyhose. "You like wearing hose, don't you?" Linda asked. 

With her panties in her mouth, all Vicky could do was nod. 

"Good," Linda said as she started marking a small circle around my wife. "Put these in you." 

Vicky reached down to un-buckle a shoe when Linda slapped her ass. "I didn't say on you. I said IN you." 

Linda handed Vicky a leg of hose. "Inside that twat of yours. All of it." 

Vicky twisted her head back and forth, but then slowly spread her pussy lips apart with two fingers, then slowly began stuffing the hose inside. Slowly, inch-by-inch the pantyhose disappeared into Vicky's pussy. We watched until only a little bit remained. 

"Good girl. Good slut," Linda said. 

I could barely watch. I felt the humiliation Linda poured on my wife. Why don't I stop this? I don't know. 

"Spread your legs," Linda commanded, "arms behind your back." 

There in the middle of my den, my wife of ten years is nude. A pair of black panties in her mouth, her expensive high heels on, and what looks like a black tampon string handing out from her pussy. Linda reveled in delight. 

"I've been waiting all these years to humiliate you in front of some men. I only wish there were more here to witness this." She pulled the panties out from Vicky's mouth, and tossed them to Paul. Linda tugged on the end of Vicky's hose. She moaned. Her legs wobbled. "Pantyhose her. She wants to wear nylons, then dress her in her wet panties and wet hose." She looked at Vicky. "Payback..." 

*********** 

It was time to call this experiment over. I was so horny I thought I'd come right there in front of Linda. I tried to put my cock back in my pants when she came over. 

"Linda, what are you going to do?" Paul asked. 

"What you've been doing behind my back for months." She lowered herself to her knees and tugged on my dick. "I know about Doris." 

My head snapped back toward Paul. "Who's Doris?" 

"A woman I know. I've been...she's no one." 

"You're fucking her," Linda interrupted, "and now I'm going to fuck your friend. One good turn and all that." She looked up at me. "Any way you want this?" 

During the last hour or so, I've watched my wife get stripped, suck off my best friend, get fucked in the ass, and then masturbate in front of us. The testosterone simply overruled my common sense. I pointed at her stockings. It was my turn. 

I pointed at Linda's leg. "Those come off right now." She snapped a hook and hanger. "Slowly, I want to see them slowly slide down your flesh." 

Suddenly, Linda became a different woman. She placed both hands on her thigh and sensually slipped her fingers under the welt of the stocking. She looked up at me as her hands slowly lowered the stocking to her ankle. 

"Do you want the other one off, too?" 

I wet my lips. "Yes..." 

I couldn't believe what I was saying, but I wanted her as naked as she made my wife. Linda had both stockings to her ankles. "Now your heels," I commanded. 

Unlike me, I thought for sure Paul would have stood and defended his wife. He knew as well as she did that he'd been caught. Linda slowly slipped out of her white heels. "Panties, too. Then the garter belt." 

Linda looked tall and willowy even without her high heels, and my eyes were drawn up from her coltish legs, across the flat plane of her stomach, to where her pert breasts pointed proudly upwards. Her rosy nipples were already erect and she stood teasing them nonchalantly. Somehow I think deep down she did this for Paul, letting him know she could still boil the blood in a man. 

She pushed them down her thighs and when they came off her toes, she tossed them away. I grabbed her shoes. My mind changed. "Put these back on." I liked the way my wife looked wearing only her Blahnik high heels. 

Linda quickly slipped her toes back in and fastened the strap around her ankle. She lay back and splayed her legs, drawing her knees up. Her pussy wet and inviting. A landing strip of short black hairs pointed toward her cunt. 

I tore out of my pants and yanked my briefs off. I guided my iron hot cock between her legs. I glanced over at my wife. Paul had dressed her. Vicky sat quietly; her fingers lingered at her crotch. 

Then I stopped for a second. I knew this was wrong. That damn machine had taken control of my life. But, right now, I don't give a fuck. A hard cock has no conscience. I grabbed Linda's legs and place them over my shoulders. Her legs were so smooth. The head of my cock soon became wet and slick from her pussy. The upturned end of it found the channel of her pussy. I slowly pushed it in. She groaned. I lunged and slipped inside her. 

Linda moaned as her pussy became acquainted with a strange cock. She started to gyrate her hips, taking my manhood deep into her most intimate place. I leaned down and kissed her nipples, sucking on them, wiggled my tongue around her hard nips. I felt like a teenager getting his first piece. I knew this would be quick—just like a teenager. 

I couldn't stop; those soft creamy globes of flesh had control of me as surely as a puppeteer's strings guide a puppet. With my gaze still fixed on her pussy, I watched my wet, hard cock pound away. Her legs and feet shook with every stroke of my dick as I hammered her. 

My breath rasped in and out of my tortured lungs. I felt my gut tightened and in one long, deep explosive lunge, I shot my load deep into my friend's wife's pussy. She bucked and flopped as my cum filled her. A moment later, I rolled off, my dick leaving a long wet trail across the inside of her thigh. 

Paul watched Linda bend over and devour my shrinking cock. She rolled my balls in the palm of her hand. Teasing me. I got hard again and she licked the tip, sliding her tongue over the sensitive slit. I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her lips deeper on my manhood. I pulled on her hair and draped it over her face and against my cock. Linda managed to suck every drop of cum from me. I fell away. I stood and grabbed my briefs and pants. I looked down at Linda and watched my cum slowly dribble out her pussy. 




The Gizmo



******* 

I snapped my pants together then walked over to the bar. My face flushed. "This ends right now!" I looked down at the girls then pulled in a lung full of air. "Place smell like a whore house." 

"You're right," he said. 

"How long have you been having the affair?" I asked him, trying to catch my breath. 

"It's not really an affair." 

"You having sex with her?" 

"I'm not getting any from Linda... I've been with Doris." 

Linda made her way beside Vicky. She helped Vicky with her shirt. They were getting dressed. 

"Shirts, shoes, and hosiery only, girls." I thought what the fuck. After what the four of us did, what we witnessed, why bother getting dressed. Besides, I liked the way they looked dressed like that. 

"Yes, Stu," they said in unison. 

I poured us a strong drink, and then took two over to the girls. "You know, we opened a can and half of worms. I didn't expect any of this. I said repeatedly that we can't have sex, and what the hell did we end up doing?" 

"Man, I'm sorry about Vicky and me. Can't you make 'em forget? You said you could. Couldn't you make Vicky forget I took her in the ass? Maybe make her believe it was you?" 

"Sure, but how do you explain my come dripping out of your wife's pussy? She's doesn't exactly have those feeling for you right now." 

Paul shrugged. He drummed his fingertips on the bar, buying some time. "You know, Stu, I've never asked you for anything since the day we became friends. I know you have your own set of values that don't always mesh with mine..." 

Paul could hear the girls talking over his shoulder. "Could you, I mean, you mentioned it was possible to put an idea—a memory in Vicky's mind. Could you...perhaps with Linda?" 

I put my hand on his friend's shoulder. "Paul, science is ninety-nine percent observation and one percent experimentation." I look over at the girls. "I noticed it several times during our little experiment." 

"Notice what, Stu?" 

"Even with Vicky sucking away on your cock, your eyes were on Linda. You mentioned several times how beautiful she is. Your attention was and will always be on your wife." 

"How can you say that?" He put his drink down on the bar—hard. Then ran his fingers through his hair—a habit of his when he's upset. "I had my cock up your wife's ass." 

He glanced over at Linda. "She is beautiful, isn't she? Does that mean you won't do it?" 

"Do what?" 

Paul shrugged. "Make her love me again..." 

I smiled and patted Paul's hand. "Only you can do that. Only you." 

"Perhaps, you're right." Paul sounded disappointed. "About Vicky—" 

"It happened. All right? We fucked each other's wives." 

Paul turned away. 

"The first thing you need to do, is stop seeing Doris. Then and only then can you start rebuilding your marriage. I wonder why didn't you stop me from fucking Linda?" 

"Doris wasn't the only one. There have been a few others. I guess in a way who am I to say she can't have sex with someone else. At least I know who." 

"Paul, you're a fuck head." 

"I know. So now what?" 

"Let me think..." 

"At least we'll both be rich. Rich beyond our dreams. Just think Stu, we'll open up restaurants—no make that lounges 'Gizmo lounges' and we'll have a license to print money." 

I shook my head. "You still don't get it do you?" 

"Get what? It works. Jesus, look what happened." 

"This was nothing more than a cheap parlor trick. I wanted to see if Linda would be affected. That's all. Maybe they'd put on a little show for us. I hadn't a clue, none whatsoever, that Linda held such revenge toward Vicky for something that happened so many years ago. Did you notice how many times Vicky told Linda that she was sorry? It simply didn't register. With the gizmo running, all those feeling were blocked." 

I tasted the alcohol then sat my drink down. 

"Paul, don't you see the possibilities, the power, of the gizmo?" 

"I know what I see. I see money. Lots and lots and lots of money." 

"Okay, let's say you build a gizmo lounge. After the word gets out that you can control a woman's mind once she enters the building, how many women are going to walk into it? They're not stupid. Why, it would be nothing more than electronic date rape." 

"But—" 

"But what? Is that all you want is a bunch of Stepford wives? Who buys the groceries in your house?" 

"Linda, mostly." 

"And the socks and underwear?" 

"She takes care of all of that. From chicken soup to socks. What's your point?" 

"Let's say someone could control the minds of women. They're the shoppers. They purchase almost ninety percent of the products we use. Think about it. If you could control every women shopper that came into a retail store, you could control trillions of dollars. You could change the entire fashion industry. Sell what you make, making billions while your competitors file bankruptcy." 

"I...didn't think about that..." 

"Think of this then. Suppose some unscrupulous person could alter certain key industries, change the political direction of a nation, control the population—and we'd never know it. That person could manipulate a presidential election. My God, do you understand what I'm saying?" 

Paul melted down onto a barstool. "You and your damn logic." 

I slammed my fist down onto on the bar, "But the good it could do! Think about this, Paul. The gizmo could control chronic pain. Imagine going to a hospital filled with kids suffering from Osteosarcoma, leukemia, and lymphoma and the pain they have to endure." I felt my lips quiver. "I know someone smarter than me could figure out a way to make the gizmo block pain. I just know it. Drug and alcohol addiction could be nothing but a footnote in history, too." 

"All that takes money, Stu." 

"I know... but for right now, we need to figure out how to contain this mess I made." 

"Why not just suggest that it didn't happen?" 

"I thought about that. I still can't explain away the little gifts we gave the girls between their legs. Even if I could, then the pent-up hostilities that Linda has toward my wife would still be there. I think, I'm not sure, but she kept talking about going down on Vicky as a way to get her clothing off in front of us." 

"But they're the best of friends," Paul countered. 

"They still are—probably closer now than ever. But you see, if I don't allow tonight to become part of them, Linda will never have closure." 

We walked into my shop, and stood beside the gizmo resting on the card table. Lights blinking, a LED display running diagnostics, and the purr of fans. "I should destroy it." I reached down and was ready to pull the table out from underneath the gizmo when Paul stopped me. 

"Let's not destroy the world altering crazy machine just yet, shall we? I mean, don't you feel a few more experiments should be in order?" 

"Perhaps you're right. There is one more item that needs addressed. Get your drink, I'll be there in a minute. I need to check diagnostics." I wiggled my finger down into a pile a cables and lifted one up. I plugged it into a coax connector then I slipped a wristband around my left arm. Two LED blinked on it. Then I flipped a switch. Soon, a yellow light began to blink. I had the wifi connected. 

I went to bar where Paul was sitting and pulled my iPhone from my jacket pocket. "I'm sorry, Paul. I wasn't completely truthful. The gizmo does work on men. I have to wear this wristband to keep me out of the feedback loop." I touched a few icons on my phone. "I'm sorry my old friend." Before Paul could react, his eyes blinked several times. 

"Months ago, I realized even an EEG machine had to be balanced and adjusted for each patient. When I first turned on the gizmo, you and I were under its affect, but barely. I adjusted the frequency so we weren't affected." 

I looked at our wives sitting on the couch. It was time to fix this mess. I walked over and pulled out the coffee table. I sat on it. 

"Vicky. You apparently caused your friend an unbearable amount of grief. Now you know what it feels like to be humiliated in front of friends. No longer will you degrade your junior employees in the present of others. I've seen you do that. No more. 

"And, Linda. Vicky has paid her debt in full. You have your closure. From now on you two will never discuss this between yourselves or others. The slate is clean." 

"Come over here, Paul." He sat beside his wife. "What happened tonight was in fact real. They did this on their own. A few too many drinks. 

"There is no machine, no magic. A fantasy. No gizmo. You don't remember any part of the conversation about the gizmo. It did not happen. Mist in the air. Just a foggy night. It never happened." 

I took Linda's fingers into my hands and held them. 

"Linda, I know Paul has treated you like shit. But a marriage is not 50/50, it's 100/100, and I feel you haven't been doing your share. So, as of tonight, you will leave the sweat pants at the gym. You will never wear them at home again. Instead, wear jeans, dress pants, even a skirt or dress. Starting Monday morning, wear hosiery under your pants and skirts. Paul has the money to buy you whatever you want. 

"Unless you're weeding in the flower beds, you will let that beautiful hair down. No longer should you keep it tied up. Paul loves to see you like that, and he will tell you if you let him. 

"Accept his advances. Dress the way he'd like to see you dress. Allow him to touch you in a way only a husband and wife should touch each other. Have sex with him, but not just to make him happy, enjoy yourself, too. You and Paul are to have great sex three times a week." 

The way Linda fucked me tonight in front of her husband threw some red flags. Was Linda screwing a guy behind Paul's back? 

"Linda, this is important. Another wrong won't make what Paul did to you right. If you're having an affair, you end it now. Starting tonight, your juices simply won't flow for any other guy but your husband. You won't be able to get excited either physically or emotionally." 

I looked at Linda sitting there, saying nothing. Is she getting what I'm saying? 

What right do I have to set the bar for a happy marriage? My marriage with Vicky certainly isn't picture perfect. Am I playing God? 

I looked at Paul. "I can't make her love you." Should I even be thinking about telling them this? 

"From now on, you'll never remark in front of your wife your desires for another woman. You'll never have sex with any other woman other than your wife. And I'm so very, very, sorry, Paul." 

I thought deep and hard on this. Linda deserves better. 

"After tonight, you'll never be able to get an erection unless you're with your wife. I don't care if you're in a room filled with naked super models, your cock will be a flaccid as a schoolboy's dick in church. You will only have eyes for Linda. No one else. You won't hit on another woman, you won't sweet talk your shit to them. You'll dump Doris and any woman you have been playing around with. 

"Linda is your best friend, your confidante, your lover, and your wife. When you're with her, and when you want to do it, your dick will get so hard you could hunt with it." 

I hated to do that to him. "You understand?" 

I watched as Paul slipped his hand into Linda's. "I understand." I looked at Linda. 

"He hurt me, Stu..." 

"A new slate, a clean sheet of paper. Allow him time to rebuild your love." 

I watched as Linda looked at her husband. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "All right." 

That was the best I could come up with. Linda has closure. Paul has a second shot at fixing his marriage. And Vicky? I hope she learned a lesson on how to treat other people. As for me? I'm not sure what I got out of tonight. Sure, I had sex with Linda. But, Paul fucked my wife in the ass. I guess that makes us even. 

I had a thought. Paul owes me two hundred bucks. Although he didn't exactly see Linda lick Vicky's pussy, I think he got his money's worth. 

"Paul, next week, how about dropping two hundred bucks in the children's burn center donation box." 

**************** 

The evening started out only as an experiment to find out if another woman could become submissive under the influence of the gizmo. The experiment went to hell. 

I watched as the girls sat on the couch. Vicky's hose had long runners down one leg along with several holes. Linda's stockings didn't fair much better. 

"Girls." 

"Yes?" 

"Vicky, the pantyhose you wore earlier tonight, were those like the ones you have on now?" 

"Other than the color, exactly the same. Why?" 

I rubbed my chin. "Too bad you don't have that color in thigh highs." 

"But I do. I have 'barely there' pantyhose and stockings—thigh highs, too." 

"Super. That's great. Both of you go up stairs and clean up. Vicky, I want you to put the hose on you had worn earlier tonight. And Linda, put on the thigh highs. Neither one of you are to wear panties or a bra. Get two of my white work shirts and put those on. Don't button 'em. Both of you in black Manolo Blahnik shoes." 

God knows Vicky has enough shoes to fill a store. 

I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. There's an old saying about absolute power corrupts absolutely. I look at these two women, the scent of sex still permeates the den, and I came to a conclusion. I liked it! 

Any scientific experiment always generates results that are unexpected. Am I more like Paul than I want to believe? Maybe deep down inside every man has the desire to own a Stepford wife. I glance at Vicky. 

"After what happened tonight, I feel there is no need for you two to be bashful any longer. We like seeing you two dressed like this. There will be no hiding or covering up. It will be as natural as rain for both of you to show your breasts and pussy to either one of us. 

"From now on, when the four of us are in our den, when I say 'let's get comfortable' you two will go up stairs. When you come back down, Linda, thigh high stockings on you, Vicky, pantyhose for you. No bras for either of you. Bikini panties and high heels. If we ask you both for sex, you will oblige. If I want you, Vicky, to strip Linda out of an evening dress, or anything else, you will do so. The same goes for you, Linda." 

I thought for a moment. What the hell. "Linda, Vicky, if I say it's time for you two to be friendly, you'll both lick pussy until you come." 

They never flinched. 

"Do both of you understand?" 

"Yes, totally." 

"Okay," I said. 

That one was for me. 

They started toward the basement steps when Linda stopped. "Stu, up until this evening, I've never had sex with any other man other than my husband. I'm so mad at him. I know he's screwing around on me...and the way he kept touching Vicky's knees. I'm sorry." 

She turned away, then looked back at me. 

"Oh, I wanted to, and I had plenty of opportunity to grab some cock, but I passed. The man I've been seeing is a lawyer. Paul will be served divorce papers a week from tomorrow." 

Damn... I should have known. Maybe there's still enough love left between the two of them, along with the gizmo, to convince Linda otherwise. 

"Linda, I understand. Give him six months to make amends. If things don't start getting better beginning tonight, then follow though. Give him six months." 

She turned. She didn't acknowledge my suggestion. It will be up to Paul now. 

I had turned and was about to go back into my shop when I felt a hand grab mine. It was Vicky. 

"Honey..." 

"Something wrong?" 

She shook her head and looked at the floor. Her face flushed. "Tonight, I liked what Linda did to me." 

So, that explains why she didn't stop Linda. I asked, "So what are you telling me?" 

"I like to be..." 

She couldn't say it, but I kinda knew what she wanted to say. Deep down inside, Vicky has the need to be controlled. There're countless male executives who only get their rocks off by being controlled and downgraded by a woman. 

"The next time you and me are together, we'll have some fun." 

Vicky took my hands into hers. "My office. Has to be someplace where someone might see me." 

The Gizmo's is allowing Vicky's desires to bubble up. I bet she could never have mustered the courage to say something so outside her comfort zone. I pat her on the rear. "Better get upstairs and change." 

She took a few steps up the stairs. She turned and smiled. "Could we do something this Wednesday?" 

I stepped on the stair steps and leaned up to her ear. "Wear your pinstriped business suit. Black pumps. I'm going to strip you down to your bra and panties. I'll bend you over your desk, then you'll get it up the ass." 

She grinned ear-to-ear and went up the stairs. 

********* 

I tapped the screen on my phone and went into my workshop. I disconnected the wires and watched as a LED slowly dimmed and then winked out. The fans coasted to a stop. The gizmo was off. I leaned against my workbench. It can take upwards of ten minutes for the effect of the gizmo to wear away. I reflected on the evening. Not only couldn't I get the fuckin' genie back into the bottle—he left the building. 

I felt, in a way, like Dr. Frankenstein and his monster. And what kind of monster did I create? 

Did I destroy my marriage? Paul and Linda's marriage, too? Will our friendships be the same? Am I playing Dr Phil with a geewiz machine? What have I done? It's too late to change it now. I set a marker in time. It can't be redone. No redos. 

I ran my fingers through my hair and then rubbed my eyes. I heard the tap-tap of heels on the concrete floor. I looked up. It was Vicky. Her white shirt wasn't buttoned and her pert upturned breasts were clearly visible. She had on her barely there hose and those black Manolo Blahnik high heels and nothing else. 

"I don't know what to say," she said as she walked over and placed her arms around my waist. "I didn't mean it to happen, it just did." 

"Hell of a night wasn't it? Vicky, I didn't plan on what I did either." 

"I feel so humiliated." 

"I know the feeling," I added. 

She put her arms around me and gave a hug. "We've still have a date at my office this Wednesday, don't we?" 

I rubbed her nylon-covered butt. "Sure do." 

The door opened and in stepped Linda and Paul. He had his right hand on her shoulder. She, too, only wore a shirt, and her tits wiggled as she walked in wearing her stockings and heels. "What a night. Stu, Vicky, are we all right? I mean, still friends and all?" 

"We're cool, Vicky and I are cool with it. Aren't we dear?" 

"Sure." 

"What exactly happened?" Paul asked. "It's kind of blurry. Like a dream, but yet..." He touched his wife's arm and then slipped his hand into hers. "We did it, I mean Vicky, you and I?" 

"Yeah..." Vicky said. 

Linda took a few steps toward me and took my hand. "And you and I? Too?" 

I bent over and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. "Yeah we did." 

I watched Linda move her fingertips down to the tops of her thigh high stockings. Her eyes bore into Vicky. "We're not wearing much, are we?" 

Vicky looked down at her bare breasts under her open shirt, and then she too, rimmed the waistband of her hose with her fingers. 

"No, we're not. I guess after what the four of us did, it doesn't matter." She shrugged. "They've seen all we have anyway. It's odd, but I don't seem to have an issue with it." 

Linda and Vicky took a few steps in. Paul and I watched. I wasn't sure what was going to happen between the two. Linda touched Vicky's hand. 

"We swapped husbands didn't we?" Linda asked. 

"Yup..." 

"It's kinda like trying to read a newspaper through a screen door. I can't remember a lot of the details, but I do remember..." 

I had a plan ready incase. I figured I'd tell them they got drunk and one dare too many and we ended up together. 




The Gizmo



She returned to Paul's side. He started to rub her shoulders, then toyed with her long hair. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" 

Linda spun around. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've heard you tell me that?" 

"Too long." 

Paul slipped her shirt off. He pulled her hair down over her shoulders. He smiled. "I thought the grass was greener on the other side of the fence. But you know, it's the same grass. I'd like another try. Another go at our marriage." He held her face in his hands. "Look at you. You have such beautiful hair. I wish you'd leave it down all the time." 

Vicky and I watched as Paul and Linda kissed passionately. 

"What about...Doris?" 

He tugged on her hand. "I'll make the phone call right now. Stop it before it goes any further. I promise, there'll never be another Doris." 

And with that Linda and Paul went back into the den. I looked at my wife. "Why don't you get all of us something to drink—no booze—we've had more than enough tonight." 

I rested my hands on the table. Destroy it. Destroy it all. Man isn't ready for this. I went to my workbench and got the biggest hammer within my reach. I want to destroy it. Tear it all apart. Smash it into a thousand pieces of electronic junk. 

I stopped. 

Should I experiment some more? Invite more friends over, and see if they too fall under the spell of the gizmo. Perhaps I have the most important device any marriage counselor every imagined? 

Or? 

Should I destroy the machine? 

"What would you do?"