Heather Gets What She Needs
"You know what you need to do, sweetie," Dale intoned, and the implied command was so compelling after three months of training that Heather almost rolled over and wrapped her lips around his jutting cock without even thinking about it. She managed to stop herself at the last moment, lying there just inches away from the tip of his prick with her mouth open and a dazed, glassy cast to her dull blue eyes, but that was about as much willpower as she had left at the moment. Heather's cunt was throbbing, her nipples had gathered into tight, tingling buds, and all she could really think about was that if she gave in and sucked then Dale would start playing with her pussy. And that was the only way she could cum now.
She knew because she'd tried. She knew because she was trying practically all the time now, sneaking off whenever she could to lie back on one of the massage tables with her suntanned body completely bared and desperately fingering herself in the hopes of breaking through Dale's increasingly powerful control over her orgasms. But it was never any good--no matter how frantically her finger danced across her clit, no matter how hard she pinched her stiff pink nipples, she couldn't get over the hump and reach climax, and deep down Heather suspected she was only ever trying because failure got her so worked up and needy that her boss had an easier time exerting his power over her. It had been weeks since Heather did any real work at the spa, and she probably would have been fired if the owner wasn't the one brainwashing her into compliance as his obedient suckpuppet.
But she was… she was fighting him, wasn't she? It was a little hard to believe when she was just lying there on one of the tables staring vacantly at Dale's cock while time distended and warped like fresh taffy, but she hadn't extended her tongue to lap away the tiny bead of precum at the tip of his prick and that had to count for something. As muddled and confused as her mind was becoming, as much as she couldn't stop her fingers from teasing away inside her soaking pussy, as dumb as she no doubt looked with her mouth open and drool trickling out in a steady stream, Heather's willpower was still holding out. Sort of. Kind of. For the moment. That had to count for something.
Heather could already feel the first cracks in the dam of her resistance, though, the very realization that she wasn't using her tongue to flick away drop after drop of salty precum leading her to visualize that same act. And once she thought about how Dale tasted, and the aroma of his body when she had his shaft all the way down her throat and her nose was pressed right up against him, her dazed and drowsy mind immediately associated it with the pleasure of orgasm she always felt when his hand replaced hers and she came like fireworks around his thrusting fingers. Heather knew she was being conditioned to think of sucking cock and cumming as one and the same, and that frightened her but at the same time it made her so, so fucking wet. She wasn't going to be able to resist it for long once the notion crept into her head.
And sure enough, in less than a minute her lips were sealed around Dale's prick and she was bobbing up and down on him with the vigorous enthusiasm of a truly needy toy. He reached down and put his hand between her legs the second she started to suck, rewarding her for her obedience, and Heather sighed as the ecstasy began to flood her sleepy brain… but already she wondered how many more climaxes she was going to get before Dale decided that intermittent rewards were the best way to keep her in line.
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