"I've been thinking about having surgery. You know, to make them smaller." Amy was saying. She was talking about her enormous breasts.

She and I with a few of my other female friends were all clustered around the kitchen table. I had two dozen guests in my house, all present for my husband, Adam's, birthday party. Adam and a bunch of the other guys were hanging around, drinking beer on the patio by the all important barbecue. We girls, being more civilized than the boys of course, were drinking margaritas.

Amy was the heaviest of my friends. She wasn't hugely fat but, in our group of aerobics obsessed yuppies, she was the thickest gal by far. She was large across her hips but, she was *huge* in front. She had the most enormous breasts I'd ever seen. She was sort of my opposite; I was the skinniest and the prettiest, whereas she was the biggest and the plainest. It was hard for me to imagine wanting to have smaller breasts. In fact, if it wasn't for all the health risks, I'd go under the knife in a minute to have a big set of my own.

"I wish I had that problem. Adam loves big ones. You should see the women in this magazine he used to buy. It was called 'Busty Beauties' or something. All the women in it had these huge fake breasts. Men are so pathetic." I said. Their heads nodded with the obvious truth of my statement.

"I know, I know. Tom loved them. But, I'm starting to have more and more problems with back pain." Amy said, referring to the boyfriend she'd just dumped a few weeks before.

"If Adam's such a tit-man, why don't you have them done? That's a birthday present I bet he wouldn't complain about paying for." My friend Lisa laughed.

"I'm too scared. I’ve seen too many medical horror stories on TV. But still, I might just do it one day, to make him happy." I admitted.

"If that's what it takes to keep him, do it honey. He's a catch." Beth, the wife of one of Adam's friends, chimed in.

I always liked hearing from other women about how hot my husband is--it made me feel good in some shallow way. I didn't get jealous either. Call it arrogance if you want, but I've always been confident enough in my appearance to discount the idea that Adam would ever look past me.

An idea came to my tequila enhanced mind. I don't know what other explanation there could be for my saying what I said next.

"You know Amy, Adam's never going to see huge ones like yours on me. Why don't you make his birthday really special? Let him have a look at yours." I suggested. There were squeals of shock from the group.

"What? You want me to let your husband look at my tits?" Amy said. Then she paused as the rest of the girls continued to titter. "Sure, why not." Amy told me. Their squealing started again.

I hadn't thought she would do it, but the margaritas probably had something to do with that as well.

* * * * * * * * * *

After a brief discussion we'd formulated the simple plan. Amy would wait in the spare bedroom, while I fetched Adam from the patio.

I sidled up next to him by the barbecue, and then gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Hey there birthday boy, do you think you can pull yourself away from the grill for a minute to give me a hand?" I asked.

"Sure. What do you need?" He asked, handing the tongs he held to his friend Paul.

"I'll show you, come on." I told him. Then I led him inside.

I shot a look at the girls and they were conspicuously silent as I led Adam into the hallway that led to the bedrooms. I pushed him up against the wall next to the door to the spare bedroom, and then kissed him.

"Aren't we horny? So this is why you needed me in here, huh?" He laughed.

I kissed him again, and then I pulled him close to me and whispered in his ear.

"Actually, I wanted you to come back here so I could give you a little birthday surprise. I know you like big tits and Amy's in there waiting to show you hers."

He looked at me in disbelief.

"What?" He asked.

"You heard me. Don't be shy. You have my permission. Go on, enjoy the show!" I laughed, pushing him towards the door.

"Really?" He asked, pausing with his hand on the door.

"Really. Go on." I urged him. Then he slipped inside the room leaving me looking at the closed door.

I faintly heard Amy's voice then, but I couldn't make it out. Then I heard Adam's, similarly muffled by the door and the background noise of the party. Then I stood there, in the hallway, waiting for him to return. A minute passed, and then two and I began to grow impatient. What were they doing in there? She was supposed to let him see them; not anything else. From time to time I heard their voices as several more minutes slowly ticked by. I was about to knock when suddenly the door opened and Adam stepped out into the hall.

Smiling broadly, he hugged me.

"I can't believe you got her to do that! Ha ha! You're the best wife ever, Jackie." He chuckled before giving me a passionate kiss.

"Anything for you lover." I grinned, and then we kissed again.

We returned to the party together, and Adam immediately went back out to his buddies on the patio. Everybody at the kitchen table went quiet as I sat back down. All eyes were on me.

"Did she do it?" They asked eagerly.

"She sure did." I laughed.

Amy appeared then, chuckling to herself as she rejoined the group.

"So what happened?" Lisa demanded.

"Nothing. I just let him have a little look. I took them out and bounced them around a bit. Jackie was right though, Adam is definitely at tit-man." She told them. She was grinning wickedly when she said it.

There was something about the way she said it, and the expression on her face that bothered me for a moment. But then we were all laughing and drinking, and the moment was gone.

* * * * * * * * * *

That night, after we'd picked up from the party a bit, we had the most amazing sex. Adam was a tiger. I don't know if I'd ever seen him that horny before. The sex was beyond amazing, it was in-fucking-credible.

Lying there afterward, as Adam began to snore beside me, I thought to myself that I should let him look at Amy's tits every night. If it meant he'd fuck my brains out later, I didn't care whose big melons he looked at. I was thinking about the idea of getting implants as I drifted off to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

I woke up to see the time. It was just after four in the morning. In the darkness, beside me, Adam was muttering something. He occasionally talked in his sleep, so it wasn't that much of a surprise. I leaned closer to try to hear what he was saying.

I thought I heard him say "yes" several times. He mumbled something unintelligible, then "yes" a few more times followed by something that sounded like "so soft and bouncy". He murmured it again. I was almost sure he'd said "so soft and bouncy". Was he dreaming about Amy, I suddenly wondered. Even though I probably should have been angry, I found that I was more than a little bit turned on by the idea that I was hearing an insight into my husband's naughty dream.

I reached down, sliding my hand gently to his crotch. My hand crept lower, only to find that he was hard! Softly, I stroked his penis in my hand. His breathing changed. He was just waking up as I climbed onto him and guided his cock to my opening. His eyes opened fully as his hands came to my hips.

"Shhhh. Let me do the work." I told him before I settled onto him, mounting his straining manhood.

I gasped as I took his full length into me. I fucked him slowly, working at my own pace. My arousal built as I began to gently rub my clit while I rode him. I gradually increased the length and speed of my up and down motions until he began to hump back at me, involuntarily. His grip on my hips tightened. Soon we were slapping hard against each other with ever increasing urgency. We came almost at the same time, something that had rarely happened before. It was fantastic.

Falling asleep in a sweaty tangle, I modified my earlier theory. I didn't care whose tits he looked at *or* dreamed about--as long as he fucked my brains out afterward.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the days following the party, things got sort of strange at home. I noticed that Adam was always sort of distracted.

"Are you alright lover?" I'd ask him.

"Oh? I'm fine."

Each day he grew more remote. He just didn't seem that interested in talking to me. He was spending more and more time away from home. Working late, out with the guys, it was something new every day.

Even worse was the change in our sex life--we didn't have one anymore. After having what was probably the hottest night of sex with him I'd ever had, it hurt me that he didn't seem to have any interest. I tried everything I could to figure out what had caused his malaise, but all my questions elicited the same flat response from him.

"I'm fine."

* * * * * * * * * *

It was about two weeks after the party that I found out why Adam was acting so differently. I'd just walked in from work, but I didn't see him anywhere. I knew he was home--his car was in the driveway. Then I heard his voice coming from the kitchen. As I walked closer I heard him speaking the strangest things.

"Yes mistress. You, only you mistress. Yes mistress."

I didn't like what I heard one bit. I walked right into the kitchen to confront him.

"Adam? Who are you talking to. Answer me!" I demanded angrily.

"Yes mistress. So soft and bouncy." He said, ignoring me completely. Then he just let the phone fall from his hand and he started undoing his pants!

"Adam! What are you doing? Look at me!" I shouted at him.

His eyes glazed over as he pulled out his cock then began to masturbate! His lips were moving. I faintly heard him repeating a phrase over and over again.

"So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy." He muttered as he pumped his big prick in his hand.

The phone dangled there next to him. He didn't even seem to notice me as I reached down to lift it to my ear. I could hear laughter even before the earpiece reached my head.

"Who is this?" I demanded

"Come on, Jackie, you know who this is." I recognized the voice immediately as Amy's.

"Amy! What the fuck have you done to my husband?" I demanded.

"I'm afraid I've ruined him, Jackie. And I don't think he's *yours* anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, as I watched my entranced husband stroke himself faster and faster.

"You'll see. We can talk about it when I come over. I'll be there to pick him up in twenty minutes. See you then." She laughed. Then with a click, the conversation was over.

Adam's voice grew louder, as he continued to chant the words over and over again.

"So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy." He was moaning.

I hung up the phone, then back to him. My precious husband was masturbating because Amy had talked to him on the phone? He looked like some sort of zombie. What the hell had she done to him? Now, what could I do to make him stop acting that way?

"Adam! Stop that and look at me."

"So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. So . . . soft . . . and bouncy!" Adam grunted as he came. I barely managed to step out of the way as his spunk erupted in a massive spurt!

"So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy." He moaned again and again as he continued to jerk himself off.

I didn't know what to do, so I just stood back to watch him finish. He finally stopped saying the words after another minute. Then the life came back into his eyes as he looked up at me.

"Jackie. I'm sorry, but I don't love you anymore. I love Amy now." He told me, as he wiped his hand on his leg.

My whole world turned upside down when I heard those words come out of his mouth. He stood, and then did up his pants while I stood there in shock.

"What did you say?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes as I fought to control the rising tide of hurt and anger inside of me.

"I don't love you. I love Amy, only Amy." He told me, looking me straight in the eyes as he said it.

I felt like I was being turned inside out. The impossible horror of his earnest profession of love for Amy destroyed me.

"Adam, I love you. How could you say that?" I sobbed.

"I'm sorry Jackie. I have to get ready for Amy." He apologized, as he stepped around me to leave the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

I followed him around, crying, but Adam wouldn't stop to talk to me. He just kept packing up his clothing and things into our suitcase set. All I could get out of him was the occasional weak apology, followed by yet another expression of his love for Amy!

"I don't love you Jackie. I only love Amy." He told me over and over again.

"Adam, how could you do this to me? I love you!" I'd plead, but he'd just ignore me or repeat his declarations of love to Amy.

When I heard the doorbell ring, I fought to compose myself. Adam put down what he was packing, then immediately made his way to the front door. I followed, watching as he opened the door. Amy strode in, smiling, then gave him a passionate kiss on the mouth right there in front of me!

"You bitch! What did you do to him?" I spat at her, from across the room.

"Be a dear Adam and load your things in the car while I talk to Jackie, okay?" She asked him, ignoring me.

He gave her another kiss, and then scurried by me to get his bags. She turned, giving me a superior smirk. Words cannot describe the hatred I felt towards her.

"As you can see, Adam has decided to leave you to come live with me. We're in *love*." She giggled.

My world was being turned inside-out, step by step. First, it had been his dreams that night after the party. Then his personality changed. Then he began to lack interest in me sexually. Catching him on the phone, then seeing him masturbating in a trance had seemed completely unreal. Then it had gotten worse still when I'd realized that he really was under her power. I couldn't get him to snap out of it. I couldn't wrap my mind around seeing her come into my house and *take* my husband. I was falling farther into shock with each successive new horror.

"What did you do to him? How are you making him act like this?" I asked stupidly.

"I didn't do anything to him. At least, not at first. He did it to himself. When I let *these* out, he just went into some sort of trance. I was a bit drunk, so seeing him like that got me a little hot. So, I let him do a little more than just look at them." She told me, cupping her hands under her huge boobs and lifting them gently for emphasis.

"You want me to believe you hypnotized Adam . . . with your giant flabby *tits*?" I asked.

"No, *I* didn't hypnotize him! He did it to himself. Actually, I didn't even realize that it had happened at first. It wasn't until he started calling me, begging to see me, that I figured it out. I know I'm rotten, but it made me feel really good to have your hot husband show interest in me. So, I agreed to have him come over, then one thing led to another. When I took off my top and the same trance happened to him again, I started to figure it out. The first couple of times I just fucked him--he's a wonderful lay by the way--but then, I realized that I could actually make him do more than just want me. So, I started making him *love* me."

As she explained what she'd done to him, Adam continued to go back and forth between us with his things. It was like he didn't even hear what we were talking about.

"You . . . brainwashed him?"

"Unh-huh. Crazy isn't it?" She laughed.

"When I found him on the phone . . .” I muttered.

"I've gotten so good at it, I can program him on the phone now. You interrupted a little session we were having, but it doesn't really matter. I was just getting him ready to leave you anyway. Did you stay to watch him, uh . . . finish?" She asked me.

I didn't answer; I had to look away from her then, as I thought about the blissful look on that had been on Adam's face as he'd jerked off. Amy laughed at me again and then she continued.

"That's another of my little techniques. When he masturbates he's thinking about my boobs; about how much he loves them. About how much he's turned on by me, about how much he loves me. Every time he does it he loves me that much more. Pretty cool, huh?" Amy gloated.

"This isn't happening. It can't be happening." I said to myself, as Adam finished his task then moved to her side.

She took my husband's head in her hands then, and the look of adoration on his face as he gazed into her eyes destroyed what little composure I had left. Tears welled up in my eyes again, as I watched her pull my man into another passionate French kiss. Watching the scene made the emptiness inside me grow even larger, until my entire being was filled with despair. They broke the kiss, and then Amy's eyes locked on mine.

"Adam, we ought to go. It looks like Jackie needs some time to sort things out. Be a dear and wait in the car." She told him, and then she gave him a playful slap on the ass as he left.

He didn't even look back at me; he just walked right out of the house, leaving me alone with Amy.

"Don't even think about trying to get him back, Jackie. He's *mine* now. Ta ta!" She laughed, and then she too was gone.

Dumbfounded by the horror of it all, I collapsed onto the couch, crying until I couldn't cry anymore.

* * * * * * * * * *

I thought about what she'd described over and over again. Could that have really happened? Was it even possible? What other explanation could there be for Adam's behavior? I could only think of two things that made any kind of sense.

Could he really just be so much of a breast fanatic that Amy had somehow seduced him into acting this way voluntarily? That she was such a turn-on to him that he was willing to do whatever she said? But that just didn't work. I just couldn't imagine him agreeing to humiliate me the way he had no matter what the reward was--even if he really did find her that much more attractive than me. Besides, if that was the case, why would Amy want him to pretend to be under her control? What would be the point?

The other, far scarier, possibility was that Amy really *did* have some kind of control over Adam's thoughts. It was insane; completely ridiculous really, but it also seemed a frighteningly real possibility. Otherwise, my loving husband would never have said those things. He would never have walked out on me with a woman who treated him like a *pet*. The thought that her big boobs had done it to him resonated in me somehow.

I had been envious, for all my life, of the sexual power that busty women possessed. The power to grab the attention of every man who saw them. Somehow, what Amy had described just seemed like a realization of that envy. It almost seemed possible as I thought about it. Possible that she had turned my husband into her pet by dazzling him with her huge bust.

I sat there sobbing, as I pondered the biggest question that remained in my mind. If she *did* have control of his mind, what the hell was I going to do?

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day, I called in sick to work. I spent my time crying and sleeping, then crying some more. It was a nightmare. I didn't have any idea what to do. I couldn't even imagine talking to anybody about it. My only hope became the idea that whatever Amy had done to Adam would eventually wear off.

At around four in the afternoon the doorbell rang. I dragged myself to the door. A cheery young man in dress pants and a polo shirt stood on my doorstep.

"Yes." I managed.

"Jackie Martell?" He asked.

"Yes."

He handed me a thick envelope.

"You've been served." He said cheerily. Then he turned and left.

Inside, I crumpled onto the couch. My hands shook as I opened the law firm envelope to find that my beloved Adam had filed for divorce.

* * * * * * * * * *

A few nights later, I started drinking alone in an attempt to drown my sorrows. It didn't help though. Everything I looked at in the house reminded me of the nightmare I was living. I drank until I was pretty buzzed. The more I thought about what she'd done the more I felt my sadness turning to anger. Gradually my outrage built to the point that I realized I couldn't just sit back and let Amy win. I had to go over there and shake Adam out of the trance she held him in.

A half hour later I was standing at her door. I rang the bell. After a moment the door opened to reveal Amy smiling out at me. She had on a tight, stretchy little blue top that looked as if it could barely hold the flabby mass of her boobs. It was way too tight. The canyon of cleavage it showed was ridiculous. It was the trashiest thing I'd ever seen her wear. She didn't seem embarrassed by her trampy look at all though.

"Oh hi, Jackie. Can I help you with something?" She asked smugly.

"You know what I want. I want my husband back." I said

"I don't think so, Jackie. He isn't yours anymore. I'll let you come in and see him if you want though." She offered, stepping back to invite me inside.

The thought of seeing Adam again was terrifying in a way. I didn't know if I could take the sight of him so besotted with her. Even with the alcohol warming my belly I found it hard to summon the courage to step inside. Somehow I did, and then I found myself moving into her living room. Adam sat on the couch watching television. He looked up as I entered.

"Hello." He said politely. Then he looked back to the TV!

"Adam? It's me, Jackie. Look at me!" I demanded.

He looked back to me as Amy sat down next to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Yes?" He asked me, looking confused.

"Don't you remember me?" I said, and it was a struggle not to break down and cry right there.

"We, we used to be friends, right?" He asked.

"Friends? We're married! I'm your wife!" I cried.

"No, that's not right. Amy is my wife." He said, squeezing her thigh as he said it.

"No! I'm your wife, not her! Don't you remember me?" I plead.

"I think you must be confused. Amy, what's going on?" He asked her, apparently annoyed by me!

"Oh, nothing, honey. Jackie's just joking. You just watch TV. We're going to go talk in the kitchen." She told him. Then she stood up, gesturing for me to follow her.

In a daze, I followed her into the kitchen. She stopped at the counter then turned to face me.

"He-he doesn't even remember me? How could you do this to me? What kind of fucking spell do you have over him?"

"You were the one that started this, Jackie. Don't you remember? You asked me to let Adam see my tits. *You*. So if I put a spell on him, it's really your fault, isn't it?"

She paused, looking at me with an arrogant confidence to her that was infuriating.

"Besides, what's done is done. He's *mine* now. You have to know that by now. Which makes me wonder why you’re here at all? Maybe your weird fascination with my boobs didn't have anything to do with Adam at all. Is that it? Are you here because you want to see these yourself? To see if they have the same effect on you as they did on Adam?" She asked, cupping the enormous bulging mounds in her hands and hefting their weight in front of me.

I watched the jiggling mass of female flesh in front of me with sick fascination. If she pulled down her top just a little her huge chest would come tumbling out at me. What would happen? Thoughts of Adam's complete domination danced through my mind. I realized with a start that I *was* frightened of her. I didn't know what would happen if I saw her bare breasts, but I certainly didn't want to find out either. Amy's smile broadened. She must have sensed my building terror then.

"That's it, isn't it? You want to see for yourself what all the fuss is about."

I shook my head slightly, and she just laughed.

"That *is* it. You're afraid. Afraid, because you know you can't resist them either. Look at them, Jackie. They're so big and soft that they don't seem dangerous, do they? But, you know otherwise. You know that they gave me the power to steal Adam's mind, and they'll do the same to you." She told me. I found myself mesmerized already as her hands casually grasped the low neckline of her top, tugging playfully at it.

"Amy, I . . . I'm going to go. You can have Adam if he loves you now." I told her. Yet I couldn't bring myself to look away from her chest.

"You're not going anywhere, Jackie. Not until we find out whether or not you can resist *these*."

With the words her hands pulled the top down until her creamy soft flesh was spilling free in two great jiggling masses. Something happened in my head, then I went away to another place. Amy was talking to me. I was dimly aware of some part of me listening, as I drifted away into la la land.

* * * * * * * * * *

When I woke up, my hands and feet were tied. I was lying on the carpeted floor of Amy's living room. I looked up, realizing that Amy was standing over me.

"Hello again, Jackie. Do you notice anything different about me?" She giggled.

My eyes locked on her immense bosom. If it was possible, the heat from my stare would have burned that tight little top right off of her. God was she hot. Those impossible big, soft, bouncy mounds dominated my thoughts. My pussy tingled. I realized that I was getting *wet*! Just looking at Amy was turning me on!

Amy must have known exactly how I felt, because she started twisting her shoulders from side to side. The jiggling balloons of flesh stretching her shirt shook and quivered. In moments I was rubbing my thighs together in a fruitless attempt to somehow touch my throbbing clit.

"Look at you Jackie. You already want me, and I'm just getting started. Every time you look at them, you fall farther and farther. There is *nothing* you can do about it. Now try to look away, I dare you." She laughed.

She started to lift her shirt again. I did try to look away. But as her creamy soft flesh sprang into view, my eyes were glued to her. I felt myself falling away into the soft submissive place in my head that Amy somehow controlled.

* * * * * * * * * *

I was awake again. Once more I found myself looking up at Amy and her glorious rack.

"You can't fight it you know, Jackie. Every time you go under, your love for my big jugs increases that much more. You love them and you know it. In fact, you don't just love them anymore; you're starting to *need* them. And that's how I'm going to make you my *slave*."

The humiliation and shame I already felt intensified when she said the word 'slave'. I'd seen the result of her transformation of Adam. I didn't have any reason to disbelieve that slavery could be my fate as well.

"You see Jackie, you and Adam are going to different places. Adam will be my husband and you are going to be my slave. Adam is everything I could want in a husband. He's smart, attractive, and quite successful. He's always been a stud--I don't want to change that. I'm pretty sure I could turn him into a robot if I wanted to, but why would I? I still want that hot, manly man that you married--I just want him to love me. I think we both know how well that's working, don't we?" She laughed.

I managed to pull my eyes away from her incredible bust long enough to glance over at my husband. He continued to watch television, appearing totally unaware of my torment.

"Sure, I'll always have the final say in our relationship, but Adam will be ninety-nine percent free. He'll be his own man. Of course he'll always be completely, totally enamored of me. You, on the other hand, are undergoing a different transformation."

She was so evil that her face lit up as she described her wicked plans for me.

"When I'm done with you, you'll do anything for a chance to worship these. And I do mean *anything*." She laughed menacingly as she played with the bottom of her shirt in her hands.

Amy lifted the shirt up to the point that her breasts were about to be exposed, and then she let it back down again. I was totally focused on those glorious curves, hungry to see them in spite of myself. She was playing with me. I knew it, but there was nothing I could do about it.

"Now, are you ready to get back to work? I think it's time we should continue." She declared.

Her hands began to lift the shirt again. I was terrified by the need I felt. I wanted to see them so badly, but in a scary all-consuming sort of way.

"No Amy! Please don't. Just let me go! I-I won't tell anyone. You can have Adam. Please just let me go!" I sobbed.

There was a wicked glint in her eyes then and I knew that my pleas were useless. She was a predator. I was her prey. I felt the way a field mouse must when it looked up at that last moment just before it was snatched up by the bird of prey.

"Shhh, don't fight." She laughed as her hands moved the shirt higher still.

The giant globes tumbled into sight. I screamed a silent scream as my mind went to that other place. Then I was gone.

* * * * * * * * * *

Five weeks later my old life is all but forgotten. Standing by the side of the tub I watched as my Mistress and Master lay together in the luxurious bubbling water of the huge whirlpool tub. They often bathed together when they came home from work.

I was wearing five inch heels, and a skimpy little black and white French maid outfit Mistress had found for me in a fetish shop. It was the uniform I always wore in my new role as their servant. I didn't go to work any more, my new job as house girl was a twenty-four hour a day commitment.

Mistress turned to Master in the tub and kissed him. His obvious love for her was like a dagger in my heart. Mistress hadn't just stolen Adam; she'd turned him into the perfect loving partner. He loved her absolutely, in a way that was stronger than anything he could have ever felt for me. Whatever witchcraft she'd worked in his head had succeeded to the point of perfection. I knew she could make him do whatever she wanted, but she didn't have to. Every time he looked at her, I could see the longing in his eyes--he'd do anything for her out of just the desire and love she'd programmed him to feel.

I could only wish she'd been as kind to me. But Mistress hadn't programmed me to enjoy a moment of what she'd done to me. Unlike Adam, I knew I was being used by her, but, I just couldn't resist. She'd made me helpless with the overpowering desire I felt every time I saw her breasts. She'd built it up in me, until it was an unstoppable force, and then used it to shape my behavior.

While I lived a life of hellish servitude, Adam lived a mostly normal life with her. He didn't have any idea he was under her control at all. He just knew he loved her. That she turned him on like no other woman could. He still went to work and still went out drinking with his friends. The only real change in his life was that Amy had taken my place as the love of his life. Of course, he also now had a live-in servant girl to tend to him--me.

There was a little splashing noise, as they broke their kiss. They stood up, the water running off of them. My eyes were drawn instantly to Mistress's huge breasts. Oh, how I longed to kiss them, to suck them, to even just rub my face in them. It had been weeks before she altered my programming so that I could look at them without falling directly into a trance. Even still, viewing them had an obscenely powerful effect over me. I tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a gasp at the glorious sight of her as I rushed to bring them their bath towels. They took the towels without even noticing I was there.

They dried themselves off. Then I had to watch them kiss again. Mistress said something to Master that I didn't hear. Then he left, grinning, heading for their bedroom. Mistress dropped the towel she had wrapped around her body, letting it tumble to the floor. She turned to face me. Her glorious boobs dangled freely in front of me. I was filled with need so strong it drowned out every other thought in my head.

Mistress stretched her arms above her head languorously. It just improved my view of her stupendous breasts. I gasped again, and then my Mistress gave an arrogant little laugh.

"Poor little Jackie. You want them more than anything else in the world, don't you?"

"Yes Mistress." I answered. It was the truth.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt me any to let you suck on them for a minute. And it *would* really make your day. But I don't think I feel like letting you have that honor today. I don't think you deserve it. Now get on your knees." She demanded. My heart sank.

I fell to my knees in front of her.

"You know what to do slut. Get to work with your tongue. Warm me up for your husband." She demanded meanly, pulling my face to her crotch.

Like most of my other duties, I hated licking her. I couldn't resist her hold on me though. Mistress, and *only* Mistress, had what I needed. I began to probe her sex with my tongue. She moaned softly above me. I coaxed her clit to its full swollen size, diddling it with my tongue the way she'd taught me. After I labored under her for a time, I felt her hand push my head away.

"That's enough, slave. What time will dinner be ready?" She demanded.

"In about a half hour, Mistress." I answered, staring up at her tantalizing bosom from my knees as I said it.

"Excellent. That's just enough time for me to give your husband a quick ride. I'm not totally cruel though, Jackie. Watch closely now, my little toy."

Mistress cupped her enormous pillow-like breasts together in her hands. She lifted them up about five or six inches as I watched, totally mesmerized by the sight. She released her hands, allowing the heavy bags to fall towards me, shaking and jiggling as they bounced around.

"Look at them, Jackie. Aren't they just so soft and bouncy? Soft and bouncy enough to steal your mind." She laughed.

Mistress turned and left me there as my thoughts went fuzzy. Still on my knees I reached under my short little skirt and wormed my hand into my panties.

"So soft and bouncy." I heard myself begin. The room around me faded out as a vision of her jiggling flesh filled my mind's eye.

My pussy heated up immediately, as thoughts of her divine breasts took over my mind. They were so soft. So warm. So bouncy and wonderful. My pussy grew wet as I stroked myself, imagining Mistress's beautiful tits.

"So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy."

I had to obey Mistress. I lived for the sight and taste of those breasts. Only she could grant me the nirvana I sought. Mistress was in control. I was her *slave*. My fingers worked my clit faster and faster.

"So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy."

I was nothing. She was everything. I must obey. I could not disobey. Her breasts were so soft, so warm, so *perfect*. They were too powerful to resist.

"So soft and bouncy. So soft and bouncy. SO SOFT AND BOUNCY. SO SOFT AND BOUNCY!" I cried out as I came.

It felt so good that I didn't even care that I was on my knees finger fucking myself. Not just fucking myself--conditioning myself to be deeper under her power at the same time. The orgasm electrified me. It made me feel perfectly aroused, and deeply submissive, all at once. I knew I would never escape her power. That I *could* never escape her power. But at that moment, kneeling there, squealing like a pig while I dreamed of her tits, I couldn't imagine life without her. As my mind reinforced my submission to her, my mouth continued to say those words that filled me with such horror and longing all at once.

"So soft and bouncy."

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