Bringing Work HomeMattChapelSummary:

Joel has a magical voice that can command people against their will. But it is a powerful burden that has gotten him in trouble in the past, so he's vowed not to use it again. However, when his life is turned upside down by a workplace bully, the call for revenge is far too strong.

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Work Text:

All characters depicted in this work of fiction are of legal age of consent.

Chapter 1
I took a deep breath and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes. This office was hell. The natural sounds of murmured conversation, clickety clack of keyboards and rumble of desk chairs on low-maintenance carpet tiles were hollow. Only six more hours. I glanced at the clock; one minute past ten. It counted down the hours, minutes, seconds I had left until the weekend.

The ticking was a taunting reminder of the time I'd wasted here, the dreams I'd deferred. So many young men my age were told they could do anything with their lives. And I, you'll forgive me for bragging, am probably the only one with the unique gift of actually following through. My position on the matter was relatively unique, but more on that later.

I was stuck in a dead-end nine-to-five like everyone else. Because what everyone who dreamt of having magic powers forgot to realise; the modern world was not built for heroes and do-gooders. Everything required money. Everything required recognition of the state. We were required to blend in with the rest of the population. Because to be special was to be weird. And to be weird was to bring down all sorts of unwanted attention.

So, there I sat, festering in untapped potential.

Taking my eye off the computer screen, I saw something scuttle out from between a few sheets of paper and make its way with short, darting motions across my desk. It was a spider, no bigger than a dime. Still, to say I wasn't a fan was understating it, and on any other given day I would have grabbed the nearest heavy object and yeeted the creature into the next life. But that day I was too tired and unmotivated to do even that.

So, I leaned into my voice.

"Stop," I told the spider, softly enough I couldn't be heard in the next cubicle, but firmly enough that the spider actually stopped in its tracks. "Turn around. Go back where you came from."

Obediently, the arachnid did a sudden one-eighty, then scuttled back the way it came and disappeared, utterly compelled to do exactly as my voice told it to. And in the spider's own brain (do spiders have brains? I honestly don't know), the spider would forget the encounter and be convinced the decision to abruptly stop and turn around was its own idea.

"Joel?" came a woman's voice.

I turned to see Lucy had trotted up to my cubicle and the short, slim woman leaned in closer with a smile. She was mousy, easily in her late forties with glasses and a layer of makeup that, while it looked perfectly fine, only seemed to add a few years to her aspect instead of shaving them off as the original attempt seemed to be. That and the pantsuit with high heels gave her a perfectly good inoffensive, business appearance, while at the same time cutting out any and all sex appeal that would have honestly looked just as good on her.

Her voice carried its usual polite kindness as she asked, "Joel, can you help me with something? My computer is giving trouble."

"Sure," I said in a soft, timid voice. "I'll be over in a few moments, okay?"

"Thanks," Tracey smiled, then she trotted off again, completely unaffected by the supernatural powers of my voice.

It was all in the tone. When I spoke normally and told someone to do something, they were unaffected. But when I commanded, they were compelled. It worked on anybody really, people and animals alike. And while in some cases the individual's subconscious gave resistance in the form of hesitation or defiant body-language, nobody so far appeared to be able to resist.

It was a powerful and dangerous thing, and I thanked the powers that be every day that it hadn't inadvertently fallen into the hands of the wrong sort of person. Not that I'm a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but you can probably imagine the kind of damage a power like this could do.

After locking my terminal, I walked to Lucy's cubicle to see what was wrong.

My other superpower was one far more common among people, and twice as useful. I fixed IT systems in a soulless corporate office and resisted the urge to slit my wrists at every turn. It was thankfully just one task that I could focus on, even if the job required me to sometimes bounce between several problems all at once. But while the thanks were scarce – it honestly just depended on the individual I was working with – it wasn't as soul numbing as most other jobs might be.

Lucy was one of the nicer people. I helped her with her problem and she thanked me, calling me 'a star' like she always did with that pretty red smile of hers, making some weirdly flirtatious joke about needing to 'get one of you for home,' then let me take my leave.

It was around about that time the floor manager Vincent reared his ugly head. The man was easily in his fifties, thinning white hair, a slender build and a vacant sort of uncertainty around him. He walked around like he owned the place and bossed people around plenty. But there was definitely an uncomfortable aura about how he carried himself. Every sentence was ended in a thoughtful pause, like his brain wasn't fully up to date with what was happening.

That was of course unless he was angry. Then he could form fully coherent sentences with whip-like speed, as if talking down to people was all he was good at.

"Lucy, where is that email I asked you to compose for me? I sent you the notes ten minutes ago!" he snapped as he shouldered past me and stood in the doorway of Lucy's cubicle.

I saw Lucy look up and blink a few times, hiding her frustration well. "I'm sorry, Vincent. I've got a lot of work to get through and…"

"That's not my problem, Lucy," Vincent snapped. "That email is for the board members, and they're expecting it from me in an hour."

He went on in some sort of self-important rant, during which I'm sure everyone in earshot was wondering why after compiling notes, then emailing those notes to Lucy; why couldn't Vincent just write his own email?

I was about to turn away when he suddenly whirled around.

"Joel. In my office," he snapped shortly, not angrily, but in a tone that civilised humans regarded as 'dickish.'

Doing as I was told, I followed him to a glass corner office with a view out over the town. His desk was a mess of cluttered papers and wires, the latter I should have had to police as it fell within my remit. But honestly, why would I ever walk voluntarily into Vincent's office? Doing so was asking to be yelled at.

Yelling at people was all he was good at doing, remember?

"I can't log in to my email. Your security system is shit," Vincent spat as he settled into his seat and leaned back, not even bothering to offer me a seat.

"Um… everyone else is using the same security. Why do you think…?"

"It's never working!" he complained, contradicting himself immediately given he'd somehow emailed a series of notes to Lucy earlier. "I can never get in when I need it."

"Okay. Well, it's a standard MFA setup like everyone else has," I explained, sounding a lot smarter than I actually was. I just implemented the system. Smarter guys higher up in the IT team had developed the custom and expensive system. And they'd done a good job, since the only one who ever had issues seemed to be Vincent. "When the system needs to re-verify who you are it sends ding to your phone and you click on the 'yes' button to confirm it's you signing in. But you do have to be connected to the internet for it to work."

"Well, I'm always connected and it doesn't work." he held up his phone and I peered at the screen a moment.

"Oh, okay" I reached out, flicked my finger from the top of the phone down, then tapped a button. "There we go. Now your internet is turned on."

Immediately a series of chimes started dinging from the phone, all the old authentication attempts arriving in a massive bulk. But despite that, Vincent tutted. "Why did you do that? Now my phone is going to be filled up with crap!"

I scratched my head. "Um… that's not…"

"You just can't help yourself, can you, Joel? You just make everything worse, as usual. Go on, get out!"

I didn't waste time in leaving. But as the door fell shut behind me I heard him bellowing out to Lucy, wondering if that email he wanted from her was done yet.

I dragged myself back to my desk, swearing under my breath. Sometimes I wished I could just use my voice on him, make him stop being such an asshole. It would work too. But unfortunately, it would work too well. The change would be abrupt, and the power would no doubt go to my head. I'd promise myself to make a small change to Vincent's personality, but then a dozen small changes down the line someone would begin to notice. I'd invariably slip up, someone would overhear me or witness me hypnotising someone, and then I'd be back to square one again.

It had happened several times in the past, forcing me to uproot my life, acquire a new identity and slip away. It was a whole thing I preferred not to do all over again.

But sometimes, just sometimes, the temptation was right there. And little did I know at the time, but the temptation would grow big enough to break me just a few hours later.

It was almost quitting time, and most of the office had emptied out. I was plugging away at my computer, getting some last-minute tasks done before I could head out. I had my earbuds in, listening to some chill lo-fi beats that drowned out the sound of my fingers dancing over the keyboard.

Then, a shadow fell over my cubicle. I looked up, and standing there was a familiar face. My supervisor, Mike, was well dressed. But his usual smile was replaced with tight lips forming a straight line across his face. He looked worried.

I innocently removed one of the buds, peering up at him. "Yeah?"

He hesitated, something Mike never did. The man was smart, had his head screwed on tight and was usually easy to get along with. He was everything Vincent was not. Seeing him like this made me frown and I twisted my chair to face him completely.

"Joel, did you connect Vincent's phone to the internet?" Mike asked.

"I turned on his wifi, yeah. He was waiting for his MFA notifications," I explained, and Mike immediately nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I figured as much. I would have done the same, but…" He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was genuinely upset and struggling to form his words into sentences. "Joel, Vincent said his phone has been hacked. He said you took his phone, turned on the internet and started browsing porn, leading to the hack."

"What!?" I cried out in an uncharacteristic moment of raising my voice. I was momentarily worried my power inadvertently kicked in, but calmed when I realised I hadn't exclaimed anything that could be construed as an order. "I didn't…"

"I know," Mike assured waving a hand for me to keep my seat. "The accusation is fucking insanity. I don't believe him, obviously. Because I know you."

"But?"

"But, the board of directors believes Vincent, despite my protests. The problem is he plays golf at the same club as them. You and I do not."

I gaped, the horror of realisation coming down over me. "Mike, Jesus. What are you saying?"

"I'm sorry, Joel. I have to let you go." he lifted a hand to gesture he wasn't done as I went to protest. "I'm sorry. It's all I can do. At least this way, if I do it before the board does, I can get you a good severance package and a letter of recommendation. But if we wait for the board to get around to it, I guarantee Vincent will have them drag you right through the dirt. You'll never get employed in IT anywhere else, ever again. I've seen him do it to others."

There was no more argument. Nothing I could say that Mike didn't know or agree with already. It took me at least ten minutes of seething to realise it, but Mike was helping me out. He didn't let anything I said to him after get under his skin, and he waved me off when I apologised later. He just helped me pack my things and rode the elevator down to the lobby with me.

There, in the marble and glass lobby was the last face I ever wanted to see. Vincent was leaning over the reception desk, putting himself in the face, and practically the cleavage, of the young secretary posted there. But when he saw me walking towards the exit beside Mike, he straightened up and his flirtatious grin turned to a smug smile.

I was without a job. I didn't have much of a life outside the friends I'd made int he office anyway. So, something in me snapped, and I suddenly didn't care anymore.

My box in hand, I turned sharply towards Vincent.

Mike caught my arm as I passed. "Don't," he started to whisper, but he stopped immediately when I told him.

"Leave me alone." My voice was a low, dark and commanding growl. I regretted it immediately, but it was far too late for that.

Mice hesitated. He didn't want to obey and his subconscious fought tooth and nail. Fought harder than anyone I'd ever seen fight the power of my voice. But other than a small flicker of his eyes, nobody else could see it other than me. And after a palpable second of internal conflict, my former supervisor turned abruptly and left me be.

I crossed the rest of the way to Vincent alone as he lifted his gaze, peering down his nose at me.

"And what do you want?" he started to say, indicating he was going to add some loud insult.

I didn't give him a chance to finish. "Tell me your address."

My command was low but firm. Nobody around us heard it, nor did they notice Vincent suddenly stiffen as if taken completely unaware. His lips moved, and he gave me a postcode that would be easy to remember. I'd always had an idea of where he lived based on how he bragged about slapping an expensive development down for himself on the outskirts of town. But now I had a precise target.

It was my turn to grin. "I'll be coming to visit later," I told him. Then I turned on my heel and walked out of the building.

Chapter 2
With a soft crunch of gravel under the tires, I quietly nudged my car towards the well-lit house at the end of the driveway. Floodlights illuminated the property in a narcissistically attention-grabbing way, making the large, modern country home perfectly visible from the road. But that being said, as I applied the handbrake and killed the engine, I noticed how secluded the house was, surrounded by dark hedges and pitch-black countryside.

There would be no nosy neighbours to worry about.

Stepping out of my car, I adjusted my suit jacket, doing up the button as I made for the front door. Tonight was a special occasion, so why not dress up. I didn't get to wear my suit often anyway, and the investment seemed a waste otherwise. May as well get some use out of it.

Lights spilled from the windows in large pools as if to show me the way, drawing me in with childish screams that were barely muffled by the walls and glass panes trying to contain the utter chaos unfolding within. Given the utter shit-show of Vincent's team dynamic at work, it hardly surprised me to learn his home life would be equally discordant. Shadows that looked like two children stormed across one of the downstairs windows that looked into a kitchen and dining room. And as a woman seemed to be running around after the little ones, the familiar figure of Vincent sat inattentively at the table with his face buried in his phone.

I rang the doorbell and made note how Vincent didn't even look up to see who had come. He remained fixated on whatever he was watching on his phone as the children screamed impudently. It was several minutes, and a few more doorbell rings on my part before the tantrums faded a little and a figure came to the door.

It swung open to reveal a woman, her shoulder length white-blonde hair a frazzled mess and tired rings visible under her eyes. Her dull lips didn't smile as she looked me up and down, more out of annoyance someone had called around rather than disbelief that anyone would come to visit at all this time of night.

"Yes?" she asked shortly.

I smiled. It only seemed polite. Then putting on a firm tone, I told her what was happening. "Hello. I'm nobody. I'm coming for dinner."

The woman's face flashed with confusion, but it didn't last long. Her features melted from their tired, icy demeanour, then a small grin appeared on her lips. "Oh. Alright. Please, come in," she said without a hint of resistance.

If ever that was an indication this woman did not want to be home alone with her family, that was it. A normal person may have hesitated. But it seemed either this woman craved company other than that of her husband, or she was a natural hostess and didn't get to entertain guests often.

The woman stepped aside and let me inside, giving me a closer look at her in the hallway light. She was not an unattractive lady. She was just tired in the overworked middle-aged mother way.

She was easily in her mid-forties, had a lovely round face, with plump cheeks and handsome dimples at the corners of her lips. Her eyes were light blue, and her platinum blonde hair would look gorgeous after just a little grooming. Slender fingers, tipped with bright red nail polish that was skilfully applied but still chipped in places, lifted in a gentle wave to welcome me.

Her figure was that of a mother who had never quite shed the fatty trimmings of childbirth; she was a little rectangular, especially in her unflattering jeans and formless sweater. But her breasts were plump and she had wide birthing hips sheathed in denim with sleek thighs that met in the middle. She wasn't very tall either, her eyes about level with my chest. Though on the whole, despite being a very average middle-aged woman, there was a spark of loveliness to her that might even be the beginnings of a fire of utter sexiness if given the opportunity to dress right.

"You are rather lovely," I complimented, and she blushed with a smile, pulling at a lock of her hair. "You must be Vincent's wife."

She nodded. "I'm Darcy," she answered unprompted. "Who are you?" she added with genuine curiosity."

"You can call me whatever you like," I told her, just as an insolent screech rose in the adjacent room. "Let's go see about getting dinner ready."

She nodded and led the way, giving me a proper view of her ass sheathed in her jeans. The way she moved barely wiggled or swayed those delightful globes and I couldn't help but stop her with a hand on her arm. Then sliding my touch down to her curvy rear, I gave them a squeeze.

"A lovely ass like that should be shown off. Put a bit more of a seductive sway in your step," I ordered.

She parted her lips with a smile as she glanced over her shoulder at me. "Yes, daddy."

I chuckled, realising the repressed personality my voice was teasing out of this woman. What kind of a monster had I just let out of her cage?

She moved off again, this time putting much more effort in her pace, tilting her wide hips one way then the other as she walked more gracefully, simultaneously throwing a seductive look over her shoulder.

Much more happy to follow this time around, I let myself be led into the kitchen where Vincent still hadn't looked up from his phone. Their two children were running circles around the table, knocking over chair as they went shouting about something at the top of their lungs.

Darcy furrowed her brow with embarrassment and turned to me. "Oh, I'm so sorry. They're not normally this loud."

She opened her mouth to shout at them but I stopped her. "It's alright. Children, settle down! pay attention!"

The kids froze instantly the moment they heard my commanding voice. Children have small, under-developed minds. That's not an insult, it's just a matter of fact. And they've always been the most reciprocal to my voice. Which is why I always have to be extra careful with how I speak around them. I need to choose my words carefully, to ensure they don't inadvertently hurt themselves or others because I misspoke or phrased something poorly.

And in regards to their small minds, it was somewhat funny at how Vincent perked up at the sound of my voice at the same time, even though I hadn't even addressed him.

The boys, one aged nine and the other seven, immediately quieted and stood rigidly, watching me attentively. My tone remained firm, but took on a gentle aspect as I asked, "Did you finish your homework?"

They shook their heads.

"Okay. You're going to do your homework now, and then you're going to double check it until dinner is ready and we can all eat a nice meal together."

"Okay," the oldest said, very suddenly soft spoken while his brother nodded firmly. They ran off to get their school bags and returned shortly with piles of books.

Vincent at the same time rose to his feet. "Joel," he simply said, uncertain at first, then added, "I don't have homework."

"I wasn't talking to you, Vincent," I told him, then added in my head: 'you fucking simpleton.' Taking a breath, I then said, "You should get started on dinner Vincent. I think a nice steak dinner would be nice."

"Okay. I think there's steak in the fridge." Vincent nodded, then hesitated again. "I don't know how to make steak."

I gestured at his phone. "You will find instructions on the internet and follow them closely. It's not too hard."

"Oh, okay." He nodded, then immediately set to work, rifling through the refrigerator and clanging pots and pans together.

Watching him for a moment, Darcy stepped forward to help. "I should…"

"No, you don't have to help," I told her, and she froze with a beaming smile. She was clearly sick of doing all the cooking and housekeeping without an iota of help from her husband. I set a hand on her shoulder and looked her over. "In the meantime, you and I will go upstairs and pick something nice for you to wear. We will make a fancy dinner date out of this."

Darcy nodded enthusiastically. "I would love that. It's been so long since I got to dress up nice."

"Good girl. Show me what you have in your wardrobe."

She led me back to the hall, then up the stairs where I made sure to give her firm rear another few playful squeezes. She giggled, about halfway up wiggling her hips at me as if daring me to pinch her again. All the repressed playfulness was pouring out of the woman and it couldn't be more obvious how she hadn't been able to cut loose like this in a very long time.

I playfully pinched her again and she darted forward with a laugh before leading me to the bedroom.

Darcy threw open her wardrobe to reveal only a scant selection of clothes, coats and shoes that she owned. It was clear she didn't look after herself very much. A few dresses, skirts, trousers and blouses hung in disarray, while a jumbled collection of shoes were scattered untidily at the bottom. I couldn't see anything glamorous or alluring there, because it was clear despite Vincent's wealth and the high society figures he rubbed shoulders with, Vincent clearly never brought his wife out to any of those sorts of events. The wardrobe next to Darcy's was filled with suits that made my own look like a thrift shop deal, and it appeared Vincent owned an expensive watch for every day of the month while Darcy's jewellery box barely had a few simple trinkets in it.

"Oh dear," she sighed, tugging at her bangs with embarrassment. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a dresser."

"Well, you should be," I told her firmly, resting my hands on her hips and pulling her firm ass against my crotch. Holding her tight from behind I peered over her shoulder and looked across the limited selection we had to work with. "Lets see, there must be something… oh, how about this?"

I reached past her and pulled something off a hanger. A length of flimsy lime green fabric that made Darcy's eyes light up with nostalgia.

"This old thing? This is a dress I used to go clubbing in long-long time ago. It probably doesn't fit anymore." She cupped one of her breasts a moment then ran her fingers over the cups of the dress. "There's no way I'd fit in this."

My hand followed hers and squeezed the breast carefully, the cup of her bra adding a firmness to the pillowy flesh underneath. It was plump and full and criminally covered up. But being barely obtained within the cups of the flimsy dress, with a plunging neckline between and the bumps of her nipples hinted through the thin fabric, she would look utterly divine.

I told her as much and she blushed furiously. "Oh, well I suppose I could try and wriggle back into it."

She didn't even ask for me to leave. She simply started unbuttoning her jeans and wriggled her hips to work it down over her panties, dragging one half of the frayed waistband down over her hip with it as she kicked off the stretchy denim.

I ran a hand over her curvy hip as she started to pull her sweater up over her head, revealing the plain beige bra that matched her panties underneath. Like the garment covering her crotch, the material was frayed and old. The cotton was still soft, but the stitching was coming apart, like she didn't have the money to buy new underwear.

"Is all your underwear like this? Don't you own something a little more sexy? Lingerie?"

Darcy's face fell and she shook her head. "No, I don't. Vincent says I'm too fat to wear any anyway."

I clucked my tongue but buried my anger. Darcy was compelled to tell me the truth because of my voice. And I was afraid of what she might tell me if I pried any deeper. Vincent's incessant bullying of people under him at the office no doubt made its way home as well.

"That's nonsense. You should go lingerie shopping someday soon," I told her and she brightened. Her smile pulled even broader when I added, "You'll look just as sexy as the models you see wearing it in the magazine."

"Thank you. I'll do that."

"But since this underwear is in an utter state, you'd better not wear it."

Darcy nodded and doubled over, sliding the panties down her legs and kicking them off into a corner. When she straightened again, her stance gave an interesting look at the puffy flesh between her thighs, and a triangle of curly dark hair that was an indication she was a brunette who bleached her hair platinum blonde. Brushing my fingers through her tresses, I got a look at the dark roots and could see it more clearly now.

"You dye your hair?"

She nodded. "Vincent likes blonde and white blonde. He says it's more appropriate for a white woman."

I scoffed. "Vincent is a moron."

Darcy's expression had darkened as she explained, but instantly brightened again as she nodded. "I agree… its strange. I always thought so but never said anything. But now I'm talking to you I can see everything so much more clearly. I can say things out loud without being afraid. It's so liberating. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Darcy," I told her, gently pressing her back against the wall with one hand, the other sliding down the delectable curves of her MILF-y figure. My fingers reached the coarse hair between her thighs then nudged down into the crease between her thighs, seeking out the folds of soft velvety flesh hidden between.

Darcy gasped, eyes fluttering. But as she reached up to grasp my arms, she didn't move to stop me. She very well could. Resistance was always evident in the body language of those who didn't really want to obey my voice. I couldn't just make people do whatever I wanted consequence free, there would always be hints at resistance. Especially in an advance this 'tactile.' But Darcy's submission was complete. She was genuinely glad. And the way she parted her stance and bucked her hips into my touch was evidence enough of what she truly wanted.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to finger you," I told her bluntly.

She shivered. "I… I've never…"

"You've never masturbated?"

"No, I have. In secret. Vincent wouldn't approve. But nobody has ever done it for me before."

"Then this will be a special treat," I murmured into her ear, cupping her face in one hand and slipping a finger into her soft crease to explore the velvety folds between.

Darcy moaned softly. Her eyes turned white as her pupils rolled into the back of her head and finally her eyes fell shut. Her knees weakened slightly and as her head fell back against the wall and she pushed her crotch eagerly into my hand.

"Oh god, that feels good," she panted. "More."

My finger had just dipped against the wet opening that quivered deep between her lips. And at her needy proclamation, I smirked and pulled away, a wet smack audible between us.

She moaned, whimpering in frustration.

"Please, don't stop," she begged.

"Patience," I told her, and she nodded firmly, opening her eyes and peering into my face.

I continued to circle her clit with my index finger, building up tension with small quick strokes. She bucked against my touch, mouth open and hot, panting breaths brushing my face as her cheeks reddened with rising delight.

"Oh, fuck. Daddy, please," she pleaded, grabbing the fabric of my shirt by the collar and yanking me closer.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes, I love it."

"If I put my fingers inside, will you be a good girl and cum for me?"

"Yes, daddy. I promise. I'll be a good girl," she panted desperately. "I'll moan and whimper and cum for you, daddy. Please, put your finger insi-… ahhn~!"

Her eyes fell shut and her nostrils flared as she sank her teeth down on her bottom lip, face glowing with beautiful agony as I slid a digit up into her tight canal. She might not have been young and skinny, but Darcy was still a lovely looking woman. Especially when her features relaxed into orgasmic bliss like that.

My own hormones kicked into action at the sight of her glowing expression, and my cock began to rise in my pants until the bulge prodded her bare thigh. The way she moved, gyrating her hips back and forth on my probing finger was an immensely sexy sight, and her moans were almost of a musical quality.

Slowly lowering myself to my knees, I brushed my lips down over her soft belly in a tender kiss. And from this new angle, with one hand groping the soft globes of her ass I was able to hook my finger up and along the roof of her canal where a sensitive stretch of spongy flesh waited to be massaged.

Darcy almost jumped at the electric touch to her sensitive g-spot. Then digging her painted nails into the wall she bucked against my hand with a strangled cry of surprise. Like she had never known that magnificent ' oh! ' button even existed within her. She curled her toes into the carpet and bucked in time to the rhythm of my curling finger, hooking more firmly within her clenching muscles against that special spot.

"Oh, fuck!" she keened into her hand, struggling to muffle her elevating moans that quickened in time with how my finger played back and forth inside her. "Ohfuck-ohfuck-ohfuck-ohfuck! What is that…? What are you…" she trailed off with a wordless moan, thighs clamping shut as her belly trembled. Then she arched her spine and let out a long, keening wail of pleasure as her orgasm thundered through her.

"Yes! Oh fuck, yes!" She practically screamed as she spluttered the words out, her voice hoarse and ragged against the hand that stifled her joyous expression. "Oh fuck, daddy. You're making me cum," she gasped, her voice hoarse and raspy with pleasure.

"Good girl. Cum for me now," I ordered.

No sooner had I commanded her did Darcy's entire body seize and clench before a warm tremor ran all the way through her and she released her burdens in a wet waterfall that ran down my hand and her bare thighs.

Darcy groaned, her knuckles white as she gripped the wall behind her in a death grip. She panted and shuddered, her body milking my finger in waves of pure ecstasy. I let her enjoy the feeling for a moment before I withdrew my finger from her convulsing pussy, the slightly gaping lips leaking thick slivers of milky white cream she had deposited on my fingers.

"Oh fuck, I can't breathe," She moaned, staring dumbfounded at the ceiling as I rose to my feet again. She had one hand on my shoulder for support, the other on her chest feeling the rhythm of her pounding heart. "That felt so good. Thank you, daddy."

"The pleasure was mine," I answered truthfully, making her smile warmly.

"Let me make myself pretty," Darcy said, a measure of allure falling into her voice and expression as she narrowed her eyes seductively. "Then I can return the favour."

I chuckled, liking the sound of that. But there would be plenty of time for that later. "Not yet. But definitely get dressed and make yourself ready for dinner."

Darcy nodded, and I let go of her. She picked up the dress we had selected and moved to the bed, before reaching back to unclasp her bra and free her breasts with a delectable bounce of the plump globes. They were firm enough, gravity having not yet had any detrimental effect on them, and her thick pink nipples stood erect like bullets in the aftermath of what my fingers and done to her pussy.

I watched as Darcy went about her routine, quickly stepping into the shower to rinse herself down, paying particular attention with her fingers between her thighs for most of the shower. Then after drying off she vigorously brushed her hair until the untidy platinum-blonde tresses fell into line.

It took some wriggling before she was able to fit into her old dress, which certainly did stretch in parts to accommodate her mature curves. But she filled it out beautifully. The lime green fabric clung to every one of her soft curves, pulling taut around her hips and bulging at the bust so that the sides of her breasts as well as the delectable valley between them were in full view, just barely covering the wide circumference of her pink areola behind the flimsy cups that allowed the bumps of her nipples to poke through. The plunging neckline went all the way down to her navel, and the back was cut low enough to reveal about an inch of ass cleavage. The skirt went to the mid-thigh and was long enough to make an attempt at being a modest lenght, but stretched over her wide hips tight enough to fit like a second skin, leaving little underneath to the imagination.

Darcy then set to work on her makeup. After some delicate strokes that left her eyes smoky and alluringly dark, and reddened her plump inviting lips she applied a pair of golden hoops that dangled from her earlobes and a bundle of similar bangles around her delicate wrist.

"What do you think?" she asked and I looked her over critically.

"It's missing something," I mused out loud, making her gasp.

"Oh, I know!"

She dug into her wardrobe and emerged a moment later with a pair of lime green stilettos that matched her dress. She slipped into them, then stood back with her hands on her hips, a ravishing smile on her face.

"How about now?"

Darcy looked like a different woman. From a sad, lonesome and worn-out housewife she had transformed into a glamorous MILF hungry to go out onto the town and turn some heads. From her posture to her complexion and even the energetic spark in her pale blue eyes, everything suddenly looked a hundred times better.

"You're perfect," I told her, holding out my hand and guiding her back downstairs for dinner.

Chapter 3
Dinner was, honestly, trash. But then Vincent would have the rest of his life to improve, as I made it clear over the course of dinner that from now on Vincent would help his wife cook each and every time he got home from work. And when he was good enough, he would take over cooking duty, and eventually all the other chores as well so he could take better care of Darcy.

Not that I have anything against traditional gender roles. Vincent was just an asshole and deserved to be worked to the bone for once in his life.

After dinner it fell to Vincent and his boys to clean up before I sent him to put the children to bed. They all went upstairs, turning over a new leaf of good behaviour as Darcy led me to the living room.

She gently shut the door behind us and crossed towards the couch, elegantly seating herself and crossing her legs. She patted the seat beside her suggestively, but I didn't move. Instead, I walked over and positioned myself standing over her, the bulge in the front of my pants incapable of being any more obvious.

Our eyes locked, Darcy's widening in wonder and need as I unzipped and pulled my pants, letting my cock spring free. She parted her lips, taking in a sharp breath of air as she watched my erection bounce lightly in front of her face with an expectant spasm. She shifted from side to side in her seat, rubbing her thighs together as if trying to start a fire with the friction of her creamy flesh.

"You can return the favour now," I told her.

Darcy smiled, the repressed sexual energy she had been bottling up all through dinner almost bursting from her like the cum that threatened to explode from my cock the moment she eagerly put her hands on me.

I let out a sigh of delight as her soft, delicate fingers wrapped around my shaft, squeezing the throbbing flesh as she gave it a gentle tug. The pressure sent waves through my balls, gathering inside me like a volcano as her delicate fingertips swiped playfully over the engorged head.

"Mmmh, daddy… I've been waiting far too long," she hummed in a hoarse whisper, eyes alight with a raw hunger and lust she had kept locked away for far too long. She was peering up at me the whole time as she stroked and massaged. "I want to make you happy. Can I use my mouth?"

"Not yet," I sighed. "Just your hands for now. Stroke slowly."

"But I want to make you cum all over my face," she pleaded. "In my hair. On my dress. I want to taste it on my tongue as you ruin my outfit and my makeup."

"Not yet," I reaffirmed with a chuckle, forcing her to slow her fitful strokes to a sensual massage. "Be patient."

"But, daddy, I want you to feel good."

"Your hands feel amazing already."

"Can I make them wet at least? Make it more warm and slippery for you?"

I nodded and that was consent enough for Darcy to grip my length with one hand while she stuck out her tongue and lasciviously licked her palm until the flesh was slick and glistening with saliva. Then she closed her fingers around my cock again before setting to work lubricating her other hand. When she was good and satisfied both palms were slick, she started wringing and rubbing her divine grip up and down my erection, soft wet noises emanating form her silky palms as she worked.

All the while she had her mouth open as if anticipating my orgasm so she could catch it all on her tongue, eyes fixed on my face and reading my expression to gauge whether she was doing a good job or not. The older woman in her slutty dress and glamorous makeup was utterly gorgeous to behold. Especially the way she so dutifully massaged my cock like my pleasure was the only thing that mattered to her.

Vincent was an utter moron. He had two healthy children that clearly craved attention and discipline, as well as a wonderfully erotic wife who just needed to be treated like a goddess once in a while. Yet he clearly neglected his boys, and he went as far as neglecting his beautiful wife because… why? Because she wasn't as young or as thin as she used to be?

And yet there I was – with the help of my supernatural voice, admittedly – enjoying the erotic gifts the sexy MILF was eager to give. The way she pleasured me was attentive and loving, and she her enjoyment was like a radiant, warm aura glowing from her skin.

"Your hard cock feels so nice slipping between my hands, daddy," Darcy whimpered. "I love doing this so much, but Vincent doesn't let me do this for him anymore."

"His loss," I groaned as I clenched and had to look away in order to hold back.

"I like feeling a cock throb in my hands so much. It's so much fun making a man cum. I've always loved making men erupt for me. It makes me feel good to be so desired and needed. I wonder if Vincent lets the other girls do this for him?"

"What other girls?" I asked.

"The ones he pays." Darcy's hands slowed a little as she thought. "I caught him once. Then he stopped hiding it. Told me I'd get nothing in the divorce if I tried to leave him. So now I just have to put up with it."

It was a little surreal the way she just spilled all her thoughts through that crimson smile while stroking my cock uninterrupted. And now she'd unloaded her burdens, her grip tightened again and she started masturbating me more firmly again.

"Don't worry, Darcy. I'll make sure it all gets sorted," I told her, and felt her tremble with pleasure as I cupped her lovely face.

"Thank you, daddy. Oh, fuck~! I can't wait. Can I take you in my mouth now?"

On cue the living room door opened and Vincent walked in, drying his hands from where he'd finished all the washing up after putting the children to bed. He closed the door, and as if ignoring how his wife was jerking off another man right in front of him, Vincent walked over to a chair to the side of the room and sat down to watch.

Smiling down at Darcy, I stroked her face and told her, "Say ahh."

Eyes sparkling happily the woman tilted her face back a bit, opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue with a long 'aaaaahhh~!'

Then as her fingers slipped from my cock, I leaned closer and slid the glans across the slippery surface of her tongue, then into the welcoming warmth of her mouth. Eyes open and peering up, she immediately pursed her red lips over my shaft and held still as I started to slip in and out of her with a few experimental thrusts.

She relaxed her throat and let me piston my hips, hilting myself deep in her mouth with each slow plunge. It wasn't long before I was fucking her mouth in earnest, making her face flush from the effort. But she never complained. In fact, the opposite was true.

"Mmm-hmm," she hummed, sounding pleased and trying to speak, but her speech was completely garbled by her mouthful. But her loving eyes clearly translated into: 'Oh daddy, that feels so good. I've dreamed of servicing you like this. I knew you'd be amazing.'

"Good girl," I complimented before lifting my gaze.

"Now, Vincent. We should talk," I said, taking the same condescending tone he took with me at the office. Only in this case I was fucking his wife's face in front of him for an added measure of condescension. "Your behaviour has been unacceptable, so there's going to be some changes around here. Starting with the escorts you keep wasting money on. From now on you're never going to have sex with another woman, ever again. The only pleasure you'll ever get will be from your own hand, and even then you'll have to ask Darcy for permission. Is that understood?"

Vincent flinched, and despite an attempt at his subconscious to resist my voice, his weak mind folded after mere milliseconds and he nodded dumbly.

"Good. From now on you treat Darcy like a goddess. You will woship her in the bedroom whenever she demands it, using only your fingers and your tongue. And she will be allowed to bring home whoever she wants to satisfy her. You will only be allowed to watch on those occasions."

"Of course," Vincent confirmed, his voice straining and almost muted by the wet 'gluck-gluck-gluck' of his eager and sensual wife taking my cock down her throat. I knew full well he was boiling inside, some tiny sober part of him furious that his wife was sucking another man's cock.

Gathering Darcy's hair into a ponytail and gripping it in one hand, I had to pull quite hard to get her off my erection. When the tip popped from her lips, she pulled against me to try and wrap her lips around my cock again, before looking up with black tears of effort leaving mascara stains down her pale cheeks. Though the smile on her red lips never faded.

"Have you ever done this for him before?" I asked with a nod to Vincent who sat quietly and watched.

"No, daddy. He's been in my mouth before, but I've never let him fuck my throat. That's only for you."

"Good girl," I told her, then slackened my grip, letting her plunge forward and inhale my erection again.

She moved all on her own, diligently and willingly gagging and choking herself for my pleasure. She'd been dreaming of this for a long time, so upset with how her life had gone with her trashy husband that she'd fantasised about cucking Vincent like this. And not even the proper cuckoldry fetish, where both parties were enthusiastic and into it. She's been boiling up the desire to put her worthless husband in his place and now she was realising that fantasy. All it had taken was the tiniest iota of my voice to tease the desire out of her, and now she was letting loose completely.

As she impaled herself on me, one hand fondled her breast under her dress while the other snuck up her skirt and played with the wet folds of her pussy. Her lips were puckered and her cheeks hollowed as she peered up through her eyelashes at me, gorgeous blue eyes twinkling with all the pent-up desire she was eager to unleash on me.

Her tongue curled over her bottom lip, guiding each deep plunge that bent my cock down her throat which bulged at the intrusion. Her eyes barely fluttered with effort as fresh tears ruined her glow-up in the sexiest way possible.

"You're making me cum," I told her.

As soon as she heard that, Darcy doubled her efforts, if that was even possible. Her hair slipped from my grip as she returned her hands to my hips, pulling me into her as she suckled and licked with desperation. The new rhythm was too much, not that I was holding back for any particular reason anyway. I stiffened, clenched, the fed the beautiful woman the fruits of her labour.

She pulled back until just the convulsing tip of my cock was trapped between her lips so she could feel each treat of warm, salty cum flood her mouth and glaze her tongue. But seeing her on the cusp of swallowing, I quickly shook my head at her.

"Don't swallow," I ordered, stepping back as she delicately balanced the mouthful of my semen between bulging cheeks. She watched with confusion as I took my time rounding the coffee table, then sank with a sigh into the cushions of the couch. "Share with your husband."

Darcy didn't even hesitate. She leapt to her feet and clip-clopped to where Vincent sat. He didn't resist as she grabbed his chin and forehead, tilted his face upward, then pressed her glossy, tangy lips against his, forcing the mouthful of cum into the man's mouth.

It wasn't so much a kiss as it was a transfer of burdens. Vincent gagged and retched as I told him, "Swallow it!" and he gulped down a mixture of my seed and his own bile. He coughed and spluttered, doubling over as Darcy straightened with a giggle.

"Oh, daddy, I think he really liked that," she laughed, the playful sparkle in her eye turning just a little sadistic. That had been unprompted. She'd clearly harboured thoughts of fucking with Vincent like this for a long time. And to be honest, I figured most people who knew him probably had as well.

With a 'trip-trap' of her heels, Darcy made her way back over to me while Vincent gasped for breath. Her eyes were fixed on my crotch again, and the persistent erection still jutting up and glistening with her saliva.

"Daddy, you're still hard," she mused, squatting between my legs and testing my erection with her delicate fingers. Her face was etched with worry as she pressed a tender kiss to the base and peered around the shaft at me. "Wasn't I good enough to satisfy you?"

"You were perfect, which is why I'm still hard for you," I assured her and she traced a line of kisses up the underside of the shaft before swirling her tongue delightfully over the tip. "Get on top and make yourself feel good now. You've more than earned it."

"Thank you, daddy," she chirped, beaming as she climbed into my lap. One hand slipped down between her thighs, gripping my cock as the older woman lowered herself down, easing the tip towards there puffy, excited opening with a whimper. "It's so big. I hope your cock fits inside me. I want to feel every inch. I want to milk it with my pussy."

Darcy cooed, rising and falling on her knees as she tried to force the bulging head of my cock inside her. Her breath was coming out in short pants and gasps as she struggled to accommodate me, her pussy lips parting and stretching around me.

"Just relax," I purred, my hands gripping her full hips and digging into her soft mid-riff to guide her movements. Slowly but surely I helped her to ease down on my erection. "You're so fucking tight, but you can take it. I know you can."

Darcy's pussy was in fact incredibly tight for an older woman, even after having two children. She was perfect in every way, slippery and snug, and hotter than an inferno. Slowly but surely her creamy pussy began to envelop me and Darcy set her nails in my chest, her mouth stretched open in a gleeful smile.

She let out a long, low moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she continued to sink down onto me, bit by bit. I supported her weight, guiding her as she rode me with measured effort. The tight grip of her cunt felt like a sinful vice around my cock, her walls stretching and contracting to accommodate me.

"That feels so good," she gasped, her slender hands fixing around my neck for support as she began to move, rocking her hips back and forth as she slowly rose and fell in an erotic rhythm. She threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she savoured the smooth glide of my cock massaging her canal.

Slowly but surely she started to take more with every slow thrust. Further and further her quivering pussy moved down my shaft, wetting and lubing it with every pass of her aroused flesh. Until finally, with a delightful little squish the soft globes of her ass settled in my lap and if felt the tip prod her hot, innermost depths.

A shiver ran through Darcy's body as her eyes jerked open and she looked me in the face with utter shock. My cock twitched happily at that, rubbing her cervix in a delightful way that took her breath away.

"Ohnn~! Fuck! You're so deep inside me!" she gasped with gaping lips.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, daddy. I love it." Her voice was breathy and desperate, her eyes pleading as she took a deep breath and began to grind her hips against mine. "Please, I need your help. It feels too good, my legs won't move."

indeed, her thighs quivered shut against my hips, trembling with effort as she tried and failed to lift herself up and get back to riding. All she could manage was bucking her hips back and forth, which in turn made her shudder with eye-rolling delight.

Slipping my hands down the curvature of her ass, I took a hold of the firm flesh, then pulled, dragging her up the length of my pole until just the tip lay in her opening. Then just as quickly I shoved her back down, slamming my erection back into her depths and firmly pressing the hidden little ring of flesh within her, making the woman moan like she had never moaned for any other man in her life.

"Oh fuck!" she cried out, her body shaking as she clenched around me again and again, her whole body shivering with the astonishing sensation. "Fuck! Oh god, yes! Oh god, yes, daddy! Daddy! Daddy~! "

I chuckled, savouring the sensation of her tight, quivering pussy around my cock. The sight of her breasts bouncing as they slipped from the plunging neckline of her dress was delicious. Right down to the drop of sweat running a track down through the delectable valley between the globes of soft, undulating flesh.

"You like that?" I asked, my voice just an octave above the wet 'slap-slap-slap' of her ass bouncing hard into my lap.

Darcy nodded, her eyes locked on mine, her lips parted as she panted. But she could form no words as a drunken flash of mind-numbing pleasure flashed through her eyes, and they rolled out of focus again. Her head tipped back, letting me slip a hand up around her slender throat for better grip on the downward pull, and she moaned for more at the ceiling.

"Oh, fuck daddy, please," she mewled. "Please, wait. Something… I'm going to…"

She bit off the end of her sentence as she clenched hard, dragging herself up against my grip and slipping off my tingling erection. Her eyes were screwed shut and her face turned a bright shade of red, her whole body straining and shuddering like she was struggling to stop herself from peeing. A fat drop of warm fluid oozed thickly from her quivering pussy and landed on the tip of my erection, a reminder of the slippery warmth of her body as my cock cooled in the open air with frustration.

As she puckered her lips and drew shuddering breaths, the effort of clamping down on her orgasmic release finally waning, I pulled her face closer to mine.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Darcy. Why did you stop?" I growled, more out of amusement than anger.

"I… I'm sorry, daddy," she whimpered, her eyes flicking up to mine. "I didn't mean to stop. I just… I felt… I felt like I was going to pee and… please don't be mad…"

I chuckled inwardly, but threw her a stern look. "I'm afraid that's not good enough, Darcy. And you'll have to be punished now." She whimpered apologetically, but managed a nervous little smile as I smirked and told her, "Lay on your back."

Chapter 4
The air was thick with tension as Darcy lay on the stiff couch cushions, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes were fixed on me as she held her legs open by the thighs and stuck her heels up into the air. She watched with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, wondering and dreading at the same time what was about to happen to her.

I loomed over her, my knees sinking into the couch as I pressed down on her firm thighs and draped my throbbing erection against her wet pussy. The base of it grazed the slightly parted, pink flesh and measured up her soft belly to almost her belly button.

She watched it measure up to what promised to be a deep penetration right up against the neck of her womb, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

"I don't know if I can take it, daddy. It goes so deep inside me," she cooed. "I like how it feels so much, but what if I accidentally…" she trailed off out of embarrassment and added, "Can I go to the toilet first?"

I shook my head, then rocked back until the tip touched her wet, furry labia, making her let out a soft gasp. "Just relax. Let it happen."

She nodded, then reached down and elegantly pressed her fingers down on my cock, helping to ease my erection into her opening. The soft folds of her flesh opened and stretched, and her whole face fluttered with pleasure as I sank smoothly into her warmth, hilting my cock in her sensitive pussy in one go.

Darcy gave an immediate shudder, her eyes opened wide and her mouth opened in a silent 'o' of shock and ecstasy.

"Oh fuck, I feel it," she gasped, her chipped, painted nails dragging down my chest. Her head rolled to one side and she gazed across the room where Vincent still sat watching the wife he'd taken for granted get impaled and pleasured like she so deserved. "I feel it in my tummy. I can feel it deep inside me. Look at how good he's making me feel, dear."

"Good girl," I murmured, bowing my head closed to hers as I began to thrust slowly in and out of her tight, wet pussy.

Darcy moaned into my ear, undulating back and forth slightly as I picked up the pace. Faster and faster I started to move more firmly, hips slapping loudly against hers as my crown mashed her core.

The sound of our sex filled the room, her thighs quaking as she held them open for me. Her toes splayed and curled involuntarily, causing her heel to pop out of one of her shoes before it went clattering to the ground below. Her hair was a tousled silver blonde nest with strands clinging to her sweaty forehead as she breathed hard between vapid moans. The air was thick with the scent of sex and the sounds of pleasure.

"You're going to make me squirt, aren't you?" she asked breathily, her voice ragged and desperate. "I've never squirted before, but I think I'm going to do it now. Please, daddy, make me do it. Please, fuck me hard and make me squirt. I promise I won't hold back anymore," Darcy pleaded, her fingers gripping my shoulders as she scrambled with excitement.

I grinned, bending down to capture one of her nipples in my mouth. I nipped at it playfully before sucking and swirling my tongue around the firm bud. Darcy moaned loudly, her back arching into me as her hips rose to meet my thrusts. "You're going to be a filthy little slut for me. You're going to squirt all over my cock, just like a good girl."

Darcy whimpered, her eyes screwing shut as she nodded eagerly. "I'll be good. I'll be your filthy little slut. Do it! Make me do it!"

Nipping her nipple, drawing a cry from deep within the woman, I leaned my weight on her and freed up my hips to hammer her pussy at a merciless pace. The sounds of our visceral, animalistic rutting threatened to fill the whole house and I suppressed my own cry of delight at how her pussy fluttered and clenched around my cock by burying my face in her sleek neck and kissing her there. She pawed at the back of my head, pressing into the contact as her legs stuck straight up int he air and trembled.

"You make my pussy feel so good, daddy! Here it comes," she keened. "I'm going to squirt! Oh fuck, oh fuck! I'm going to fucking squirt!"

Darcy screeched it out like a possessed banshee, her body trembling, her thighs quivering wildly as she tensed her muscles around my pistoning cock, bucking her pussy up against my groin as she clamped around me. My cock throbbed and my balls tightened, but I forced myself to hold back my impending orgasm as I wanted to make sure she was utterly satisfied. She was a good girl, after all, and had more than earned it.

"Cumming," she wheezed breathlessly, eyes peering into the distance, staring straight through Vincent like her husband wasn't even there. "Cumming… cumming… cumming …" she repeated as her pussy released its burdens down my balls with a hiss like a pressurised pipe that had burst.

A veritable fountain of juices sprayed up my abdomen, pooling in the soft rolls of her belly and belly-button where she lay folded underneath me, her whole body clenching and unclenching as she emptied herself. The spray of her squirt only lasted a few seconds before subsiding, slippery girl-cum lubricating my cock as it continued to piston in and out of her sensitive pussy.

She started to whimper with overstimulation, but I had clenched and wasn't far behind her. No sooner did she ask 'are you going to cum, daddy?' did I hilt all the way into her body and released a torrent of semen against her cervix.

Darcy's mouth stretched open wide and her eyes crossed at the sensation of my seed filling her pussy.

"Ohhh~, ohhh~, daddy~," she slurred drunkenly. "It's so warm!"

Her voice was hoarse and overcome with emotion as she writhed on the couch, her entire body joining in the shared orgasm as her pussy continued to spasm and her body convulsed with the force of her climax.

"That's it, good girl," I praised, my own cock throbbing in the glaze of her warm juices that flowed down my balls in a hot, wet cascade. Her pussy contracted around me with a delicious rhythm that made very inch of my erection tingle with delight.

I felt her hands reach down and grip my ass, urging me to stay inside her until I had deposited every thick, gooey rope of seed inside her. She was insatiable, this sexy, well-tended housewife. Well, she was 'sexy' and 'well-tended' now after only a little encouragement on my part. But the real trick would be ensuring Darcy got what she so deserved to have for the rest of her life.

And in turn, Vincent too.

"Darcy, you're such a good girl," I praised. "So, it's very important that you listen to me now. From now on, you will be treated like a goddess. You are to buy beautiful dresses and sexy lingerie for yourself. You're going to take one weekend each month to go out dressed up to the nines, and you should if you can bring home a handsome young man who will fuck you silly like this. And it will be Vincent's duty to help make this happen. You hear that, Vincent?"

I turned my face to him and despite the man's uncomfortable shifting, he listened when I told him, "From now on you will watch Darcy get satisfied. You will treat her like a queen."

"Yes." Vincent answered simply, gently lowering his eyes with a dumb grin on his lips. But there was no hiding the deep-seated hurt in his eyes as his subconscious screamed at him to snap free of my voice's influence. A fight that a small mind such as his would never win.

With that I slowly withdrew from Darcy's sucking, hungry pussy with a wet 'glug!' that sent a mixture of juices oozing down her taint and into the delightful valley between her spread ass-cheeks. Darcy took a shuddering breath, then glanced across the room before she rolled onto her side and unprompted slipped back on her fallen shoe and unevenly rose to her feet. She made her way to where Vincent sat and grabbing him by his hair, dragged his face down between her thighs.

"Eat it, darling," she said, sarcasm oozing from her tone. And when I re-affirmed Darcy's order, the man stuck out his tongue and held in a gag as he ate my cum directly from his wife's cunt.

As she moaned form the contact, Darcy's eyes hungrily watched by stiff cock from across the room, and she added to her husband; "Get used to it, darling. Because it looks like you'll be eating a few more of these before the night is out."