Little Theater of Sin! Ch. 01

My Theater teacher never told me there would be days like this.

I grew up in a mid-sized city in the Southwest US and though I loved the Theater, I had no desire to go through all the bullshit to be a big time professional actor over in Hollywierd. Luckily, I was able to to carve out a niche for myself in my hometown and make a decent living by my incredible ability to show up and not suck. Smaller cities don't have a big pool of talent to begin with, and if you show up on time, get the job done, and smile a lot you'll get work. You'd think more people would realize that. And if you are in enough improv troupes, work at a theme park and do children's theater during the day, you can actually be a working actor even if you do live in San Whogivesafuck.

Now, the world of Theater is a lusty one. We actor types live on the edge. We lead with our feelings. We are also willing to commit to huge mistakes if it makes a good story. Some people might say we will fuck anything that lets us. That seems mean. But.... Seems? Nay, we know not seems. We will. But despite my properly Theatrical lascivious life, the most orgiastic group of genuine sexual deviants and perverts were at the seemingly innocent Morgan Morgan's Backyard Neighborhood Theater.

And that's not a misspelling. As a young actor, Byron Cockingtard changed his name to Morgan VanDeevan. When he got a regular job playing Captain Morgan for the Captain Morgan liquor company on cruise ships and fraternity parties, he milked it for all it was worth, and in this effort to accept and lean into his artistic fate, he renamed himself Morgan Morgan, and retired to open the Morgan Morgan Neighborhood Theater, which did Neil Simon at night and children's theater in the mornings. I got paid a pittance to do the kid's shows, and would help out at night occasionally. And somehow, even after working there for a year, I knew nothing about the bizarre sexually depraved world Morgan Morgan had created in his Little Theater of Sin.

I got my first glimpse of what was going on behind the scenes when I arrived early for a casting call. The front door was usually locked, but by happenstance it had been left ajar, so I strolled in to the darkened storefront theater. Down the hallway I heard some faint sounds of movement and a muffled voice. My heart started beating faster, as I realized it might be criminals robbing the place. Then my brain kicked in and told my dramatic actor imagination to calm the fuck down; who breaks into a store front community theater? Just then, I heard what could have only been a sex noise.

Do you know what I mean by that? A sex noise? A certain sound that could ONLY be produced by the physical act of lovemaking. Somewhere between a gush and a squish. I bet you do, ya nasty bastards!

So, being a pervy voyeur, I crept down the hall towards the increasingly loud sounds of something sliding in and out of something wet like a horny moth to a bright Flame of Fuck. Morgan Morgan's office door was open, and his office was lit and occupied. I was now able to hear the sounds a lot clearer.

"mmmf... mmmmff, oh lord have mercy! I just need that cock in my mouth so much... ngggfffmmmm."

"Yes, I know, I know... that's it.... yessss."

What. The. Fuck?

That first voice was Helen Gregory, the theater secretary. And that second voice was Morgan Morgan himself. Helen was 49, frumpy and dressed prim and proper every day of her life. Her glasses were as big as her head, and she was the last person in the world I'd expect to hear talking as if she had a huge cock in her mouth.

"Now lick it, lick it harder. Harder." That was Morgan, and he had this tone in his voice that was weird, it wasn't commanding, bossy or dominating; it was flat and self-assured, almost to the point of sounding bored. He was simply telling her what to do, not ordering, and she was doing it.

"Yes Mr. Morgan. Like this?"

"That'll do, yes."

I had to get a peek. I crept around and found an angle that put me in the shadows, but allowed me to see into the room. Helen was in a chair, with her blouse off and her bra pulled down to expose her pillowy breasts. I blinked in surprise at the luscious quality of her 42D's, a sight I would never have expected after only seeing her in sweaters and boring blouses while seated behind her tiny desk. My eyes then panned up to the the source of the slurping, and that was Helen's wide mouth sliding up and down Morgan's thick cock. He was standing in front of her completely dressed except for his penis sticking out of his slacks. Helen was still wearing her huge glasses, and with her bottle-dyed-red permed hair style she could not have looked less like a porn star, despite her porn style treatment of Morgan's dick.

No kidding y'all, this plain-jane part-time housewife slash secretary had a tongue like an anteater! I saw why Morgan was telling her to lick it, as she had a preternaturally long tongue that needed to be seen and then honored and worshipped! The first time I saw it slide all the way out of her mouth and wrap his shaft like a fucking snake crawling up a tree I almost gasped. She could easily push five inches of her tongue outside her mouth, and there was a width to support it. It looked fake, like a prosthetic. But the more she wrapped and bathed Morgan's cock with her tongue the more I knew how real that fucker was!

"Play with your tits." Morgan told Helen, and she began to fondle her breasts, squeezing and caressing them with her Lee Press-on-Nail-encrusted fingers. Her hands thus engaged, she only had her mouth to swallow Morgan's cock, and she did! Her head began to bob up and down like a slow piston, she even turned her head a little as she did, putting a twist on his cock that must have felt...

"Oh, that feels good." Morgan said aloud, finishing my thought.

There was a popping sound as Morgan's cock left Helen's mouth. "Can you fuck me today, please?"

"No. Maybe tomorrow."

"But it's been more than two days for me. It's not fair." During all this, Helen never stopped squeezing her tits.

"Helen, I have to fuck Barbara and the twins today. All you get is my cock in your mouth."

"It doesn't work like that. You know it. Please, I can't concentrate. And I have to get all those reservations done."

"Are you blackmailing me?" Morgan asked, a laugh just behind his words.

"It's not fair. You did this to us! You need to take responsibility!" She sounded like she was scolding a student for not taking care of the class pet.

"Fine. I'll fuck you, but no cumming. Well, like you said. I made my bed and now I just have to fuck in it. Hahaha."

"You bastard." Helen said softly. "Please, please fuck me."

"Bend over the desk and flip your dress up." Morgan said, like her was telling a delivery man where to put the groceries.

I could only see part of her body as she almost sprang out of the chair and threw herself over Morgan's wide desk. She grabbed her dress and pulled it all the way up and then pulled her panties down to her ankles. She was babbling incoherently with lust.

"Please please please fuck me fuck please...." her naked white ass was waving in the air.

"Yes, yes, here you go." Said Morgan as he stepped behind her and slide his dick into her pussy.

"OH. OH. OH. Ahhhhhhhhh" Helen took three deep strokes of Morgan's dick with a shout, and she came with a long low moan. Her orgasm entered her blood stream like a serum for a disease, her whole body seemed to relax, every muscle unclenched and loosened up as Morgan started to pound her pussy hard, making the the desk rattle and shake.

"Is that the cock you need Mrs. Gregory?"

"Yessss.... you know it is, you know it is, you bastard..." She sounded like she was high on weed, or painkillers. Morgan kept fucking her from behind, grabbing her meaty ass and slapping it now and then, making Helen cry out, but never in protest. Finally he gave her five or six hard deep thrusts, making Helen squirm and shake in what must of been her third orgasm, and then he pulled out of her.

"That's all I can give you, Come over her and clean me up."

Helen slid off the desk slowly, like a rag doll and slumped into the chair. Morgan took her nipples in his fingers, and pinched them while pulling upwards. Helen hissed out loud and sat up stiffly.

"I said clean my cock, Mrs. Gregory."

Helen's tongue emerged from her mouth and licked every inch of that man's cock clean, and clean again. Up and down she ran that Mouth Snake, and Morgan was gritting his teeth and struggling not to cum as she turned his dick into a barber pole. Finally he shook his head, like he was coming out of a dream and stepped back.

"That's enough. Phew. Okay. Allright now. Get dressed, and uh, finish those reservations, I guess."

"Fine." Was all Helen said in return.

Luckily, I snapped back to reality just in time to slink out through the dark hallway and out the front door without getting noticed.

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

This was not just some tawdry office romance. And he said he was going to fuck Barbara and the Twins? Barbara Shleeger was the 62 year old volunteer who helped out in the mornings and the twins had to be Terry and Mary Bennington, two 19-year-old formerly home-schooled twins who were interning for a theater degree they were pursuing at the Community college. And what was that 'you did this to us' business Helen said to him?

I had to find out what was going on!

Well, first I had to go home and jerk off because I was so damned turned on!

Then two days later, all that was going on began to make itself evident when Morgan Morgan was found dead in his bungalow apartment.

Sadly, he wasn't murdered. That would have been pretty cool. But they did discover he had been taking a strange herbal supplement that had triggered an unknown heart condition. As the police questioned all of us about Morgan's death, I got to witness all the employees of the Morgan Morgan Community Theater acting very cagey concerning the herbal supplement that killed Morgan, and I could swear I had seen bottles of the same stuff around the theater. I also realized for the first time that all of Morgan Morgan's employees and volunteers were women. It didn't seem weird at first, as the art scene in San Whogivesafuck were dominated by women, girls and ladies. But now that I knew Morgan was porking the backstage crew, the story was getting interesting.

I had to find out what was in that herbal supplement.

So I did. I was able to swipe a bunch and sneak it down to my friend on the South Side, Dr. Rosa Benivides, who runs a Botanica. She retired from a local chemical lab and now sells herbal supplements and remedies for health food nuts, Wiccans and the local indigenous cultures. God, I hate that term. She does too. What does she call them, you ask? Mom and Dad.

A day after I dropped off the stuff, she called me and asked me to come to her store. When I arrived, she shuttered the front door, put up the CLOSED sign and guided me to the back room. This was her personal lab, which was about the size of a two car garage. It was wall to wall with Mason jars of herbs and plants, and plastic beakers of chemicals and processed compounds. There were Mexican stone mortar and pestles sitting right next to electric centrifuges and digital scales. On one work table were the remains of the herbal supplement I had brought in. Rosa started right in.

"Okay, so this shit here, you got it from that Morgan Morgan person?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, so Mr. Morgan Morgan's a pendejo pendejo. He used to sneak around all the herbal stores and botanicas in town asking about stuff like this, and no one would sell it or even cop out to knowing about it. Do you know what this is?"

"Oh, I totally do. I'm just testing you because this is secretly an episode of Columbo and I'm filling up screen time with pointless story development. NO, I don't know, Rosa."

Rose looked at me for a second with her warm brown eyes. "Wow. That's a way too long cultural reference. So, this stuff right here... well you know how there is no such thing as Spanish Fly, like a drug that will make a woman want to have sex with any man?"

".. yyeeesss..."

"Pues, mentiras. We lied. There is. And that's it right there on my workbench. BUT! And this is a very big butt..." She stopped and smiled. "I've always wanted to say that. Pues, there's two things about it."

"Lemme guess, it gives you a heart attack and kills you."

"Pfft. No, the drug produced from the plant plant Cardonia Mistroika here had about, oh, 15% to do with Morgan Morgan's Death death. I like repeating like that that."

"I, I, don't, don't. stop stop it it.", I kidded back. "So, what's the rub, Doctor?"

She looked at me hard and smiled. "You sure you can handle this kind of power, amigo? I mean, there's a reason we don't talk about this kind of medicine, this kind of... well, shit, this kind of Magic. I mean, the last thing most people need in their lives is more screwing around. But if people have already taken this... have they?"

"I can't say for sure, but I have seen jars that look the same around the theater... and I have seen some things...."

Dr Rosa's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Do tell."

I told her what I saw in Morgan's office.

"Phew. Yep, that sounds like what happens, 'cept a lot more intense. I haven't personal experience with it, but I trust my sources. Paul, I think Morgan drugged the entire staff of his theater with the Mistroika Spice."

"Wha... but... look, they weren't sleeping with everyone, just Morgan. If that.. what was it called?"

"Mistroika Spice."

"If Mistroika Spice turns you on, then wouldn't they be hot to trot for every guy they saw not just Morgan?"

"Hot to trot? What are you, 60? Jesus, Paul, update your slang. And No. See, that's the thing with Mistroika Spice, the people who are hooked on it are only attracted to other people who are also have it in their system. So Morgan was the only man in a hundred miles who had that stuff in him, and after hooking his Barnful of Backstage Beauties on the Mistroika Spice extract, he would also be the only guy in a thousand miles who could possibly satisfy their physical need to have sex."

"Even David Hasselhoff?"

"Yes Paul, even David Hasselhoff."

"Whoa. That explains a lot. Damn. And what happens if they don't get their... what, fix?"

Dr Rosa took in a serious sigh. "It could be ugly. Usually there's some discomfort... nudge nudge... and then the victim's body chemistry gets back to normal. But this stuff right here, it's concentrated as hell. It's like the difference between coca leaves and cocaine. So withdrawals symptoms could be severe."

"How severe?"

"If they are all young and healthy..."

"They're not."

"Then, yeah, they might die. Or more accurately, they are likely to experience several severe health crisis' directly based from trauma caused by withdrawal symptoms. Accuracy can be vague, though."

We were both quiet for a while. I broke the reverie with a childish yell.

"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me!"

Rosa did not laugh. "No, Paul. I'm not."

"Well, what do I do now?"

Rosa looked at me hard. "So, how's your health, Paul?"

So seven days later I was in the tool room at the Morgan Morgan Theater with Mrs. Barbara Schleeger, the 62 year old head of concessions and outreach. She was sitting on the workbench, and I had unbuttoned and opened her dress to reveal her slender, well kept body. Wow, Morgan sure knew what he was doing when he seduced his MILFs and GILFs! She had a green, lacy, wire-lined open cup bra, that she said Morgan liked her to wear when they met up. The bra did make her C Cup tits look great, but her large nipples were her tits' best feature: thick and brown, dying to be sucked. Her body was almost rigid with anticipation, and she had trouble looking me in the eyes. Then, I placed my cock at the entrance of her pussy, which was wet as hell.

Mrs. Schleeger shook her head vigorously in shame. "Oh God. I'm so damp down there, at may age, it's so embarrasing..."

"Hey, it's not your fault, so shush."

"Oh, stop it, what do you know of iiiiiitt...... ooooohhhhhhh..."

My cock was sliding into her as she failed to finish her sentence, and it kept on sliding. I took my sweet time filling her with my dick, loving the look on her face, as she felt not just the pleasure from my cock, but from the fact I had the Mistroika in me.

"Oh thank god, you weren't lying. You were telling the truth. I can feel it already! I was so afraid that you were.... oohhhh, no more words, please just make love to me, please please please." She leaned back, relaxing against the wall, the tight bun that her grey hair was tied up didn't budge an inch I began give Mrs Schleeger a solid fuck. Her hands were on my chest and stomach, stoking my skin as I kept up a relentless attack on her pussy.

"May I... may I... may I have release....?" Mrs Schleeger gasped out between moans and cries of pleasure.

I had no idea what she was talking about. "Do you mean, an orgasm?"

She nodded. I slid my cock deep into her, deeper than I had to before and I held it there. She sat up, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide.

"Mrs Schleeger, I'm not Morgan. You can have release anytime you like."

She blinked, and then her hands found their way to my hips. She took a firm hold and then nodded once, and I started to fuck her long and slow, and then faster and faster. Her hands never left my hips, her grasping fingers and ecstatic expression seemed to make my cock even harder.

"oooooooooHHHHHH GOD!!!" Mrs Schleeger bucked her hips once, and then twice and then went limp in my arms, drained and completely sated. I held her there for a bit, my still hard cock still in her pussy.

"I like you better than Morgan." Mrs Schleeger whispered in my ear. "Here, let me show you something..." She leaned back out of my arms, and with her warm hands pulled my hips back and forth, making my cock go in and out of her pussy. Then when I was inside her, she clenched up and her pussy took a hold of my cock like it was fist!

"Whoa!" I yelped. She smiled at the intended compliment and then said with a catlike purr, "Now, Paul, keep fucking me."

As I did, her pussy took a hold of me both loose and tight, and she could go half way loose and tight again during a single stroke of my cock. I had never seen, rather I had never felt, such pussy control in my life. This grey haired half-naked GILF's pussy was stroking my cock like it was velvet fist! It felt so fantastic that I had to focus as hard as I could not to cum right away. I leaned down and took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked hard, slurping and drooling all over her tit. Her hands came up to my head, and grabbed a handful of hair, and then pulled me even closer and tighter into her chest.

"Harder. Harder." Was all she said. Focusing on her sweet tit flesh helped me hold out, but finally I came, and Mrs Schleeger sighed and moaned with even more pleasure as she came once again, matching my huge load of cum that seemed to jet out of my cock, my entire body tingling with pleasure, and every nerve in my brain and skin linked in a web of profound satisfaction.

So, I guess Dr Rosa had told me the truth.

When I confirmed I was healthy, she told me she could concoct a version of the drug that would allow me to be a partner of the all the Mistroika women, but not ruin my health. Also, with the new less potent Mistroika, the women would gradually be able to wean themselves off the drugs, though it would take time. Dr Rosa explained that it was penis to skin contact that created the necessary effect. Moreover, contact with wet tissues ( mouth, vagina, anus) increased the effect as did seminal fluid; which is why all the women were craving not just Morgan's dick, but also his cum. It literally had the cure in it.

Dr Rosa also said the Mistroika Spice would also heighten my sense of pleasure and stamina, which was lucky, because I wasn't all that sure how many people Morgan had dosed into his sex-slaves. Not even the women themselves knew exactly how many Morgan was giving the Mistroika to. Mrs Schleeger just happened to be my first out of sheer luck. After a week of treatment by Dr Rosa, I had come to the Theater early in the morning and found Mrs Schleeger opening up the place. Right away she got spooked when she thought she 'smelled' Morgan Morgan as I entered the building; Dr Rosa said the Spice worked partly through air-borne pheromones. I explained to Mrs Schleeger what Dr Rosa had done for me, and she had trouble believing it. However, because of the drug, she couldn't resist. Even as she was denying my story, her hands were unconsciously touching me, reaching out to me, until at last she dragged me to the tool shed and made me fuck her.

But she was only the first, I had a lot of medicine to deliver.

As I emerged from the tool shed, Mrs Finnias was standing there waiting for me. I was surprised into silence until Mrs Schleeger called out from within the shed. "He's got it, Beth. It's the real deal." Mrs Finnias's broad shoulders slumped with relief. "Oh my goodness yah there. I was going out of my mind there, dontyaknow there now, right?" Mrs Finnias was from Minnesota. She was typical of the Midwestern women with a thick, but not fat, body and blonde hair which she kept shoulder length and shiny. She had an easy smile and ruddy cheeks. Her best feature, however, were her huge tits, easily 44D's, and she loved to show them off in low-cut outfits as she volunteered for the theater. She was currently in a tennis dress, low-cut of course, and the skirt of which did little to hide her succulently thick thighs and ass.

"Did he cum in you there, Rhonda?"

"Ohmygoodness yes he did. I'll be good for days!"

"Well, first come first serve I guess there, right? So, can I suck your cock a little there? Even a little would do me a world of good, now. Okay, yeah!" She didn't wait for me to answer, but fell to her knees in front of me and batted my hands away from my dick, which I had yet to put back into my pants. She shoved it into her mouth and swirled my half-soft penis around her mouth. And then she popped it out for a second. "Mmmm. I do love the after taste of your pussy the best, there Rhonda, yeah, right?" And then she went right back to it. Goddamn! My cock was still tingling from the best orgasm I had ever had. She popped my cock out again. "Hey don't worry too much about gettin' hard, I mean, it's better when it's hard and you are fucking us, but I'm jonesin' so bad that even sucking a limp dick makes me feel better, right yeah there?"

"Well, that does take the pressure off." I said raspily. Mrs Finnias laughed.

"Here sweetie, this will help." She took off her top and her sports bra in three quick expert moves and then stood before me, her magnificent breasts exposed and beautiful. Her nipples were tiny, almost lost in the mound of boobflesh around them. Her fabulous tits were perfectly tanned and rounded, like Sara Jay's or Dee Williams. Sure enough, my cock twitched a bit, and bravely stirred. Mrs Finnias cooed in delight and pulled me away from the tool room to sit me down in a nearby chair. "Just five minutes, sweetie. Yum." Pushing me into the chair she kneeled in front of me and began a gentle working of my dick. She was making all kinds of noises as she gobbled away. I reached down and flipped up her skirt to get a better view of her ass. She scooted out and up a bit to help me with the view, and then reached behind her and pulled her panties down so I could see her bare ass. It wasn't a show stopper like her tits, but it was damn nice even from my obtuse angle. After a few seconds of wiggling and ogling, she had got my cock hard again and was blissfully sucking away and stroking my shaft with both hands.

The attitude of all this was getting to me. What do I mean by attitude? I had only ever had sex with women who actually wanted to be with me. Granted, sometimes it was for fucked up reasons, but these women here HAD to fuck me, they HAD to touch my cock. I could be as creepy and weird as, well, as Morgan Morgan and they would still have to fuck me. It had almost nothing to do with me a person.

Remember that I was working all this shit out in my head while a big-tittied Midwestern housewife was slurping and stroking my cock with two hands like a butter churn. Usually I would be so focused on the amazing thing this wonderfully generous person was doing for me that the only other thing I could think about was how to best stay true to the Golden Rule, and to please as I have been pleased! But Mrs Finnias was going to keep sucking on my cock even if I was reading a newspaper, and there were at least several more women I had to... I mean several more women I GET to... or do I?

Mrs Finnias, despite her friendly nature, was all business with her blowjob. It was still well done, and my cock was hard and staying hard, but the difference was clear. She began to slow down a little, her neediness having been slated. And finally she leaned back on her knees.

"Well, I'm good. So, do you want to do me in the butt, or what?" She was still smiling, but there wasn't any real enthusiasm behind her words.

"Um... you... you're done?"

"Oh sure, there yah. I don't need it near as much as with the other ladies."

"Really? So, there's, what? Levels...?"

Mrs Finnias thought for second. "Yah. Yah I guess there would be, yeah. But Morgan fucked us all the same, I think. I don't know much about what all he got up to with the others. With me, I sucked his cock and then he would fuck me up the ass for a while."

Mrs Schleeger was walking by with an armful of props. "Just straight sex with me. Though he would enjoy playing with my nipples."

"That makes sense, you do have great nipples there, Rhonda."

"Oh, that's sweet of you to say, Beth." responded Mrs Schleeger as she went on down the hall.

I kept pushing trying to get the full picture. "But you didn't need to be fucked in the ass, as you had already got enough of a ... dose? But he just wanted to..."

"Look Paul, I can't tell you about Morgan's inner self. Why he needed this Bizarre, 70's Exploitation Movie level of control of me, over us and over so many of us, I can't say there, right yah? He's a cipher. He never explained, he just fucked us any way he wanted."

I needed to know more about all this far more than I needed to have sex, so I started to pull up my pants. Mrs Finnias looked shocked.

"So... what's up there, hey? You're not gonna put it in my butt?" Mrs Finnias asked.

"Um... oh, um. No. Is that okay?

"Pfft. Sure to heckfire yah it is. Never really like it up there. Thanks. I like you better already."

Mrs Schleeger's muffled voice came out from the back room. "I told him the same thing."

We both laughed. "But can I ask you some questions about all this?" I asked Mrs Finnias.

"Buy me lunch, and I'm all yours until 3:25 when I gotta go pick up the kids. Unless Rhonda needs me for the shows. Hey! Rhonda!! You need anything back there? You all set?"

A muffled yell came out the theater area. "All good, you go ahead."

Mrs Finnias stood and fixed her outfit. "So, whaddya want to know?"

She took me to a local empenada place called Nada's Empenadas. She ordered, I paid. She talked. I listened. There were at least five women Mrs Finnias knew of that Morgan had hooked on the Mistroika Spice, and she suspected more.

"It started as a typical backstage sex thing with Morgan and Bernice Jacobs. She moved away, and he started conning us with the spice. Sometimes he sneaked it into our food without us knowing anything, and sometimes he'd offer it to us like some sort of supplement. Herbalife for fucking, yah?"

Nobody came forward to expose Morgan, partly out of fear of not being able to get the drug. Partly out of sheer embarrassment and shame, as many of the women had families. Morgan got weirder and more demanding as time went by. But he never hit anyone, he never had to.

"I think that may have worn him down, yah? I mean, where's the challenge? The fun? The ego boost? I've been thinking about it. I was a psych major before I got pregnant with Mandy, so there's things I know. Sex isn't just about sex. You need to feel liked, at least. If not loved. And Morgan was already a psychopath to put that shit in anyone, yah? And a touch of sociopathic unfeelingness... is that a word? Unfeelingness?"

"It is now."

"Ha! Yeah, well so by the end, it was kinda like we were all just ants in an ant farm, and he was looking at us through the glass, and just telling us to make different kind of tunnels. Yelling would have been less crazy, right?"

I kept her going until 3pm, and then she scooted out to pick up her kids. I now had all the information she did, and so I could at least get a start. The reality of what I had committed myself to was dawning on me. If I was going to do this responsibly I would have to keep up with the demand better than Morgan did. I would also have to find away to not go crazy, or turn into an asshole.

No, really! I now saw that Dr Rosa was totally correct! Access to this amount of sex, from a safe source that cannot deny you can really mess with your head. I was projecting myself ahead through the days, weeks and months to come as I became the sole provider of the cure for The Mistroika Spice to a number of people. First off, there would no way I could maintain any other sexual relationship. Also, I would also have to get healthier in general. On top of that, is it possible that I could become as contemptuous and evil as Morgan Morgan if I grow too familiar with my new role in life!? Will become a monster like him!?

"Will you please shut the fuck up and smoke this?", said Dr Rosa as she handed me a lit joint. We were in her small garden behind her Botanica and I had been saying all that stuff for about an hour. I smoked it, and I calmed down. I then giggled for fifteen minutes at the absurdity of the situation. Dr Rosa just smiled. I handed her the joint.

"Thanks, I don't smoke at work." She put the joint out, and then helped me spell it all out for myself. She gave me some organic vitamins and a book about yoga.

"You're an actor, right? So be one. Be the water that can fill any container. And call me if you need an ear to bend. Now go away, I've got a date."

I skedaddled back to the Theater and got there right as the rehearsal for the upcoming show was letting out. Before I could get inside I felt a hand tug at my elbow. It was Cindy Jo Neederson, one of Morgan's audience wranglers who worked the front door. She was an audience favorite at The Morgan and she was more perky than perky could be. I couldn't imagine why she would want to talk to me, because she knew I didn't like her. And I knew she didn't like me. We had been totally okay with that over the years. But now here she was, looking at me with an uncomfortable smile, asking me to talk to her for a second. I mean, why would she...

Oh. Oh shit. Of course. She was on the Mistroika. She was on The Spice!

She led me up to the sidewalk that ran along the front of the strip mall and towards a little walkway that led to the back alley, and then up the back stairs to one of the green rooms in the theater. I hadn't considered this-- having to have sex with someone I didn't like. Cindy Jo wasn't ugly or anything like that, but she had a terminally happy face, and a precious smile and a voice that everyone thought was funny and hilarious which I found to be the opposite of sexy. She was about 37, 5'5 inches tall, and kept her light brunette hair in a half perm and she had one of the widest asses I had ever seen. She wasn't fat, she just had an extra wide ass, it stuck out at least half a foot on either side... so of course Morgan gave her The Spice. I was starting to notice that every one of the women he had chosen had, shall we say, particular attributes: Helena's tongue, Mrs Schleeger's nipples, Mrs Finnias' tits, and Cindy Jo's ass. Damn. Morgan was fucked-up like a fox.

Cindy Jo was wearing a long dress and a button up blouse with a scarf around her head, like she was from a 1950's sock hop, and yes she even had the bobby socks and saddle shoes. The dress did nothing to hide her wide ass, and I was openly staring at it for the first time. I had strenuously avoided looking at it in the past, as I never wanted to give her the pleasure of catching me ogle her impressively large posterior. But now, especially as I was still high from the joint, I leaned into it. After all, I needed to get my self worked up so I could perform. Then she started to talk to me in a very earnest and forced tone, like Mrs Cleaver talking to the Beaver.

"So Paul, it's super to see you, and I'm so glad I got to talk you for a quick tikky or two-y before everybody else gets to talk to you about all kinds of things... why are you staring at my.. backside?"

"Because it gives me pleasure to do so." I looked away from her ass, and met her glare. We both held it for a while, which told us that we knew all we knew about the Mistroika Spice.

I could tell she wanted to yell at me, but I saw her force it down. Her feet were shuffling in place, the Spice's effects making it hard not to move towards me. I stepped back a step, and she moved a step towards me. I took another backwards, and she followed.

"Stop that! You're being a super big time poopy-head" She got close, as if she intended to hit me, placed her hand on my chest, licked her lips and then shoved herself away. She took a deep breath. "Okay, what needs to happen? I know what's going on. I know you know what's going on. So, what... needs.. to happen?" She was struggling to put it into words.

"Wow, you really don't want to have sex with me, do you?"

"No! You're all arty and snide! And you think you know everything just because you did some Shakespeare once. And I don't like your hair at all but... but.. I still want you to, well I have to have you... to..." She was looking straight my crotch, which was bearing a decent bulge. I leveled with her.

"Look Cindy Jo, I'm not excited about fucking you either. Well, I'm excited... but not by choice. I'm not Morgan, so we do whatever..."

"I wish you were Morgan." She was pouting like a child.

"You liked Morgan?"

She look surprised to be asked the question. "Well, of course. He was a great man."

"He drugged women with an addictive sex drug!!" I screamed in comic incredulity.

It didn't faze Cindy Jo one bit. "Great men have great appetites. That's just how history works."

".... did Morgan tell you that?"

"Oh yes indeedy-do. He explained the whole thing to me."

What a dumb ass. Or maybe she was brain damaged. I don't know. Whatever she was, I still had to a job to do.

"So, what did you and Morgan do?", I asked her. When she hesitated I came right back, "Good lord Cindy Jo! Just tell me, for Christ's sake! People hooked on fuck drugs have no time for shyness!"

"My butt! He would put his dinky in my butt!" She squealed and covered her face with her hands, like a kid playing peek-a-boo."

"Jeeze. Look, Cindy Jo, I can do this, but you refrain from all the cute language? It's kind of a boner killer."

"Really? Mr Morgan loved it. He made me talk all the time through it."

"Sick fuck."

"Those aren't nice-nice words, Mr Paul. Are you going to need a time out in the Cattle Cow Cooling Out Corner?"

My dick went softer than a feather's fart. I had been half hard with anticipation, despite our relationship, because, well, you know, men are pigs and her ass was a thing to behold... but that voice using those words... yikes.

"So, how would you like to do it?", I asked her with a small sigh, like a house painter looking for instructions.

She seemed a little hurt. "I'm so sorry this is hard for you.", she pouted.

"What? Hey, you don't like me either! And you just told me that to my face, what do you expect?"

"I... I.. don't know. I'm sorry, but Mr. Morgan always told me what to do and that made it easy, and now you're asking me and I just don't know what to say at all..." She was almost in tears with frustration.

Ah shit. "Look, we'll figure this out." I smiled benevolently and put my arms around her shoulders. She leaned into me, pressing her ass against my crotch, rubbing and pushing on me. Whether it was the Spice or her own horniness, I couldn't say... well, yes I could. She wouldn't be near me if it wasn't for the Spice. Unirregardlessly, my cock began to harden as I found enough sense to get some words out. "Ok, do you still want to do anal?"

"Yes, I think that's best, since that won't get me pregnant."

"Allright. Let's just get into it, and see what happens, okay?"

She nodded. I reached under her dress and pulled off her petticoats that had filled out her 50's style skirt, and she stepped out of them.

"Are you going to make me take your love pole right here, right now?", she asked me over her shoulder. "Gosh, I sure hope you won't make it... oh..." She stopped talking for a while when I pulled my cock out. It's not huge, but it ain't small. I thought she got quiet out of fear of it, but I was wrong.

"I'm glad I always come prepared." She said, pulling a bottle of lube from a pocket in the dress. "Put some on my pooper, please!", she said as she handed it over with a huge smile. Goddamn, that cutesy shit was really annoying! And I suddenly remembered what Dr Rosa had said about being an actor, and filling the situation like water in a container. If I could play a Danish Prince talking to the ghost of his dead Dad, then I could pretend to like Cindy Jo. I took a deep breathe and called upon all my actor craft and powers to fill me with the power to fuck as I needed to fuck!

"Stanislavsky, help me now!" I said aloud.

"Hm, who? What?", said Cindy Jo.

"Nothing, let's get your pooper... um... slickery doo'd for a little, uh.. pokey funsies!"

Cindy Jo turned toward me slowly. Her eyes were wide. "What did you say?"

I was now channeling all the perky energy I could. "I can't wait to feel your pooper dooper on my candy cane of love!"

"Are you making fun of me?"

I broke character for a second and hissed my answer angrily and rapidly. "No, I'm trying to get over my shit and I'm trying to be a good person and act like you do so you will enjoy this somehow, as we are both trapped in a fucked-up situation." My happy smile immediately returned to my face.

"Oh... so, you could keep doing that, then?" she said, seemingly ignoring my break.

"I think so. It seems to get easier weasier as you go along-awongy."

She was looking very serious. "It's really turning me on. Keep doing it." She said totally dead pan. I led her towards the old couch on the green room and I sat down on it, turning her away from me.

"Okey dokey, Cindy Jo, I need you to show me your hinder so I can get ready for the funsies!"

She squealed and lifted up her dress, revealing her ass and legs. She was wearing white stockings that reached down into her bobby-socks and garters, with no panties. And that ass... damn! It was truly a wonder, a cartoonishly wide pair of buttocks that Robert Crumb would lust after. I ran my hands all over her massive ass, which was soft and smooth.

"Mr Morgan gave me special lotions to make sure my Special Gift was perfect and smooth and nice. And he had to buy me a special set of garters. The others couldn't handle alllll I have to give.", Cindy Jo said with pride. She was moving her ass a bit as I touched it, responding to my hands as they roamed all over her cheeks. I indulged myself, forgetting for a bit about anything but the soft warmth under my fingers. I leaned over and gave one of her cheeks a kiss, and then I kissed the other. Then I kneeled down and pulled apart her ass to lube up her asshole. I had expected some unpleasantness, but she was clean and fresh, in fact she smelled... she smelled delicious. Without thinking I leaned forward and buried my face into her backside.

"Ack! Oh my, Oh my Goodness Mr. Paul, you are certainly... oh, ungh... Mr Morgan never did that to me... oh! Great gollies, I can feel your tongue going up my.... Ooooohhhh yummmyummyyummmy...", she descended into nonsense as I indulged myself further.

I was indeed eating her ass out like it was steak and I was starving. Something raw had taken over inside me, and I was shoving my tongue into her as far as I could when I wasn't licking every inch around it. And the sensation of those huge buttocks pressed against my face, practically smothering me with a softness that could only come from an ass was heavenly! I kneeded and squeezed her succulent cheekflesh as I went fucking nuts on her sweet asshole, my saliva dripping down her leg and my chin as I kept digging in harder and harder, with no intent of stopping. I felt her knees tremble, and then her whole body started to shake a little bit, and then a little more.

"Ohmy, ohmy, ohmy, ohmy...." Cindy Jo's cutesy voice was disappearing as she got closer and closer to having an orgasm. "Oh please don't stop, oh please, oh please, oh please...." She kept babbling until finally her knees buckled and her body shook. She fell against me a bit, pressing me harder against her to the point where I had trouble breathing.

"Oh golly gee! Thank you so much for that Mr. Paul. Mr Morgan never gave me kisses like that."

"Oh, you have a sweet little honey pot that needs to be kissed and made to feel super special.", I said as saccharinnly as I could stand. I found the lube and put some on both of us. "Would you like to sit on Uncle Paul's lap, and play horsy?"

"Ooh, that sounds like fun! Yes pretty please!" Cindy Jo backed up, and while still facing away threw her legs over mine and descended onto my dick. As I entered her, she cooed like a bird and my cock felt the heaven of a tight ass and we both felt the Spice's kiss of relief. And frankly, even without the Spice, the mere sight of this wide, Pawg ass in lacy white garters straddling my lap would be a bucket-list turn on. But then she was also dressed like a woman from a 1950's sock hop, pony tail and all, which made it even hotter!

"I wanna play horsey! I wanna play horsey!" Cindy Jo was screaming as she began to bounce up and down on my dick. I was shocked that she could manage my cock so easily, but she took it like a champ and gave some back as well! She had her hands on my knees as she bent forward and started a serious fucking of my dick, forcing me to hold on to her huge ass for dear life. She was moaning and grunting, almost rutting away on my lap. Sweat began to form on her massive ass cheeks but the slick sheen only made her more sexy. She began to grind her body in circles, using my dick like an Atari joystick.

"Does Sweet Cindy Jo like riding her horsey's love pole?" I taunted her.

"Fuck that!" Cindy Jo growled. "Throw me on the floor and cum in my ass!" The cute voice was gone, and she was sounding a little like the demon from The Exorcist. I blinked twice, and then slid us straight down from the couch onto the green shag carpet, my cock never leaving her ass. I got her on her hands and knees and grabbed as much of her ass as I could and then shoved my dick into her ass as deep as I could.

"YES! FUCK!. ME! DEEP!" Cindy Jo Screamed. I began to mercilessly pummel her backside, pounding and pushing all I could into that sweet hole! My hips felt almost dwarfed by her ass as I made those cheeks shake and quiver. Cindy Jo pressed her face and chest deeper into the carpet the harder I fucked her, but I held her ass up high in the air, right where I wanted it.

"Is little Cindy Jo getting a winky right were she wants it, like a good little pooper dooper?" I asked her. She screamed into the carpet and convulsed on my dick, spasming and shaking. I was pretty sure it was the talking and not my dick making her cum, and since I was an actor, I loved it!!

"Aww, poor little Cindy-windy! Did you just make happy time all over my love pole?"

"Oh FUCK ME!" Cindy Jo screamed like a fishwife from hell, and I started to pound her hard and slow, slamming into her body like a jauggernaut. I kept a constant stream of cutesy talk in her ear, even singing little songs in time to my fucking. After a particularly odd version of London Bridge is Falling Down, I finally let go with a huge load of cum in her ass, making Cindy Jo tremble all over as she came with me. I collapsed on top of her, and we both laid there for a while, just breathing heavy and trying to recovery. Eventually I rolled over and she sprang up and got dressed in a flash. She looked a little embarrassed.

"Um, Paul, please don't tell anyone I swore. Please?"

"Um, okay, no problem." I guess we were done. Okay, whatever. "Oh, before you go, how often do you need to.. meet with me?"

"Oh, gosh. Well, Mr. Morgan was three times a week."

"Three!? Three times a week? Did he cum every time time?"

"Oh no, mostly he didn't. I imagine you will have to cut down your gooey gushers soon enough, just like he did. You are going to be a busy little beaver!"

"So do you know who-all Mr Morgan had hooked on the Spice?"

"Oh my goodness no, only Mr Morgan knew all of them and he never wrote it down. He told me that personally, that he never kept a list of his B-words."

We talked a little longer and I got a couple more names I hadn't known about. She said good-bye uncomfortably and we both headed home. I was indeed going to be a busy little beaver, and I was going to need help.