God her face hurt… like, literially hurt from smiling so much!

Not that she could complain about it, and in all honesty, it wouldn’t have been the first things she would compalin about anyway. That would have been her aching back.

Neither complaint would have been addressed though, at least not in any way that wold have made it better. She highly suspected that if she ever complained about her back hurting she would have been going under the knife in no time to get even bigger implants.

So, in a way, it was good that she couldn’t complain. At least that’s what she told herself to keep her sanity.

Thought there was a not insigificnat chance that she was already insane, strapped down to a bed, drugged up, in a mental institution somewhere for her own good.

How else could she explain what was happening to her? Did mind control really exist? If so how did an insignificnat little man like Steve get it?

She’d been waiting in line at the bank, annoyed that they’d put up their fees once again, waiting to give the manager a peice of her mind. She’d finally been done waiting and simply walked into his office and started screaming at the man, not even noticing Steve sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

Before she knew what was happening she’d shut her mouth, walked around behind the desk, and was sucking the bank managers dick as a large duffle bag of money was being handed to Steve.

That was the first, and only, time she’d seen him, but the memory was a fresh as it was the day it happened.

Instead she’d divorced her husband, gone under the knife so many times, moved in with the bank manager, and was now his “happy” little dedicated trophy slut.

She heard the front door start to open and she jumped up and wiggled her way over to it just in time for her new husband to enter and close the door behind him.

She giggled and then dropped to her knees, eagerly pulling her top down and then his pants. This was the highligh of her day now, when he arrived home from a long day at work and she got to suck his dick. If she was lucky he’d be up for more, perhaps fucking her tits or pussy, or if she was really lucky, her ass.

That was because it was the only time she really got to complain at all these days, if only about how big his dick was and how tight it was in her ass.

She’d take what she could though, it was the only loophole she’d found and the little bit of the old “Karen” that was left in her was desperate to complain about something, anything.