The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Auntie’s Island

Chapter Four – The Submissive Succubus

FRED:

Okay, let’s get a few things straight here. I’ve seen some things in the past year that I can’t really explain, scientifically speaking. But just because I can’t explain them, does NOT mean that they’re unexplainable. As far as I’m concerned, EVERYTHING is explainable. With a little study … with a little scientific expertise … I’m sure I could find answers to the whole lot. So, I don’t want to hear about “things that we just aren’t meant to know,” etc, etc. The girls are constantly pressing me toward “faith” and “belief” and all that other stuff that’s better left to religion and Twilight Zone scripts. I tell them that I’ll keep an open mind … and I will. But to me, an open mind means waiting patiently until science is ready to explain something.

Now, that’s not to say that I’m not familiar with the supernatural. Indeed, literature is FULL of it! And being a bit of a fan of literature (not to mention having a PhD in the subject), I’m imbued with a certain knowledge of legend and myth. So when Willie described her Auntie as a succubus, I was somewhat knowledgeable of the concept both literally and metaphorically, from Homer to the “bad girl” gun molls of Chandler and Hammett. From 800 BC to the so-called Modern Era, they form a pattern. And Auntie doesn’t fit.

Yes, she’s into the psychic shit pretty heavily. I can’t (and don’t) fault her for her beliefs. But I’ve never met anyone so OPEN about it. Dee took me aside, that afternoon after we had returned from our fishing trip, and told me about Auntie coming into the room after I’d left the them all hypnotized … about how she took control of their trances … about how she had found out so quickly about the various “rooms” and levels of their personal trance states. I listened patiently, and then told her that I already knew it all. Auntie had told me herself, while we were walking alone around the island. Her goal, she had told me, was to protect the girls themselves from something (real or imagined) that she interpreted as a threat. I decided I couldn’t fault her for her actions, though I didn’t really agree with her reasoning. And she had been open and straightforward about the whole thing.

And therein lies the whole problem, you see. The succubus, siren, nymph, dominatrix, murderess, adulteress … in fact, just about every archetypical villainess throughout history, has one thing in common: an ulterior motive. Auntie was just the opposite type: sincere, honest, meek (at least around me) and truthful about everything. The fact that I was starting to fall in love with her doesn’t detract from this argument at all.

Already, this night was beginning to look like a duplicate of the one before; clear, soft breezes, fragrant odors from the flowers growing so plentifully in the forest, full moon (though it wasn’t visible yet, still behind the tall hill to our backs) while the last of the sun dipped below the horizon, once again showing a flash of green at the last second. Willie declared it a “magic night.” Jonathan and Raul were finishing the grilling of the king mackerel I had caught on our trip. Raul’s flounder had been broiled first, and we’d already devoured that, along with most of the fried potatoes the girls had prepared.

Auntie and I had been talking together, sort of off to ourselves at one side of the patio. Small talk. But the conversation faltered. It was obvious that we both wanted to do something other than talk. She blushed crimson at her thoughts, and finally asked (in a tone so hushed that I had an excuse to draw very near to her to hear) if I would like a more private tour of the house after dinner. Her intent was obvious, but she was struggling with this. Our kiss of the day before was still very much on both of our minds. I told her that I would be most pleased to accompany her.

Raul called me back to the cooking fish, and I was tasked with serving it. I found an excuse to give Brenda the last piece, and I spoke quietly to her. I asked if she would be okay if I didn’t make it to our bedroom until later in the night. She grinned, and cast a glance toward Auntie. “Are you asking my permission, Freddy? Or my blessing? Don’t be ludicrous!”

I sighed. “I think that maybe I’m asking exactly that,” I told her seriously. “I love you, wife. I may find it immensely satisfying to take two other women and screw them silly all the time, but I’d never cheat on you!”

She laughed up at me and then stood on tip-toes to kiss me. “I love you, too, my Master,” she replied. “Be happy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “But you’d better tell me ALL about it!”

I laughed, too, and kissed her again.

* * *

BRENDA:

Oh, golly, I was horny! And now, Freddy wouldn’t be with ANY of us tonight! I watched while he went back over to her. Yes, Auntie would have him tonight. But it wasn’t as if she had actively pursued him or anything. The attraction was genuine, for both of them.

I sighed and looked around again. Raul was over by the grill, taking care of what was left of Freddy’s prize fish. He kept casting glances at Freddy and Auntie, too. And for the first time, I saw it. Pain. He was in pain! I tried to puzzle it out. Was it just jealousy? No … no, it was something else. At least, I thought it was. There it was again! A clear, almost urgent sense of hurt and denied necessity. I felt suddenly hollow on the inside. He was in pain. He was in need.

I had to help him.

* * *

WILLIE:

We had only been allowed one glass of wine so far tonight, but I didn’t want to get drunk again. There was one thing I hadn’t done yet since I’d come back to the island, and I wanted to do it … NEEDED to do it, before I had too much alcohol. Still, I was a little tipsy. I approached Dee.

“Let’s go swimming!” I urged.

She regarded me with wonder. “Where?”

“In the ocean, of course. In the lagoon. Look! The moon is up! It’ll be wonderful! Please, Dee?”

She shook her head. “I have to feed the baby,” she said in excuse. “Let’s go tomorrow afternoon.”

“You know I can’t be in the sun with my skin,” I groused. Albinism can be such a pain sometimes!

Lizzy was fussing while Mama Ann rocked her in her arms, and now Dee was walking toward her. “Never mind … it’s okay,” I called after her.

And it really didn’t matter, I guess. I always swam alone while I was growing up here. The party seemed to be breaking up, anyway. Without another word to anyone, I started down the trail toward the water.

* * *

DEE:

I couldn’t believe it! Ann was feeding Lizzy one of the bottles I’d filled up this morning using the breast pump. This would be the final feeding before we put her down for the night … probably until five or six o’clock. Didn’t she KNOW what that meant? No, of course she didn’t. She had never BEEN a nursing mother. I groaned. Lizzy was finishing up the last few drops, and she was obviously starting to fall asleep.

“Ann,” I began, but didn’t know how to say it. How could I chastise her for only trying to help? “Um … I usually feed her myself this time of night.”

“No problem at all, dear,” she told me cheerily. “Why don’t you come with me and let me show you my home? It’s just down the trail, and we can let the baby sleep on a pallet on the floor for awhile. I have a new tea I’d like you to try.”

She started down the trail without waiting for my response. Trying to contain my sadness, I started after her, tucking my arms across my lower chest to provide a little needed support.

My breasts were SO full!

* * *

FRED:

This was the first time I’d been in her bedroom. It was very large and airy, with a huge, king-sized four-poster bed in its exact center. Two of the outer walls were mostly glass, and afforded a magnificent view of the lagoon and ocean beyond a patio to the front, and some sort of large, walled garden to the side, which had meandering, high hedges blocking most of it.

Auntie was carrying a candle, but it was far from our only illumination. The moon was overhead now, and the room was bathed in a romantic glow. She let me take the candle from her hand and put it on a small table before I engulfed her body in my arms and crushed her to me in a long, sensuous kiss. It’s almost impossible to describe my feelings. I was strong and purposeful and virile; traits that seem to elude me most times. But with THIS woman, I was truly in charge. With her, I felt more manly and sure of myself than I ever had before. For now, I KNEW what I wanted, and I aimed to take it.

She shivered against me, broke the kiss and buried her face in my chest, holding me. “Oh, Fred!” she gasped. “Oh, my gosh, Fred! I KNEW this would happen. I saw it coming. I knew it long, long ago. But I had no idea it would be like THIS!”

“Quit blathering, woman!” I whispered, then tilted her face upward toward me and kissed her again. She stretched her arms upward and around my neck, clutching. I easily slid her summer dress up her body, and we broke the kiss momentarily as I drew it up and over her head. She let go of my neck long enough to allow the garment to clear her up-stretched arms, then replaced them, running her fingers into the hair at the back of my head. I gasped as I stroked her body with my palms. She had hadn’t been wearing anything beneath the dress.

“Fred,” she panted, after I stopped the kiss again. I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to the bed. “Fred, we should talk. I should tell you what tonight IS! I should explain what’s happening.”

I laid her on the bed. Her hair, which seems to be consistently both a wild mass of a hundred red curls and yet also absolutely perfect … always perfect … spread across the pillow perfectly, too. She was small and faultless and breathtaking. I touched my finger to her lips. “No explanations,” I ordered quietly, authoritatively. “No observations or images or justifications or elucidations. The time for talking is past.” I trailed my fingertips down her body. “Only this, now. It is time for this.”

Her breath caught and she shivered again.

“As you wish, my Master,” she whispered.

* * *

WILLIE:

I was taking my shorts off when I heard a twig break behind me in the woods.

“Hello?” I called out. There was no answer.

I decided that it must have been an animal, and I stripped off my panties, folded them, and placed them on the top of the pile of my clothes. I was naked now in the moonlight. I stretched and listened to the sea … my friend, the sea: the source of my solitude and comfort for so many years. I waded out into the lagoon, remembering each wonderful sensation as I experienced it again: the sandy bottom against the soles of my feet, the warm water slowly covering my body, the sounds and smells and feelings. Oh, wonderful! I couldn’t touch bottom anymore, and I set out with long, powerful, languorous strokes toward the open ocean.

* * *

BRENDA:

I followed him as silently as I could as he walked the trail down toward the lagoon, but caught sight of him taking a different path, one that wound off into the forest, and I went after him, keeping my distance. The path entered a clearing, and there was a small bungalow tucked into the trees at one side. It surprised me. Just about every clearing on the island seemed to have been made with the sole purpose of presenting a view of the ocean. I could hear the surf faintly, off in the distance, but this place was a part of the jungle, and nothing else. I looked around, but Raul had vanished. There was a flickering light in the cabin … a candle, I assumed, but I was surprised that he’d had time to enter and light it. I waited, but heard nothing except the sounds of the forest and distant sea. Timidly, I approached the place and stood before the door. I wanted to knock, but it would be more than obvious to him that I intended a romantic interlude, when I really did not (or did I?).

“Go on in, it’s unlocked,” his voice said behind me.

I squealed and jumped, spinning to face him, my hand over my pounding heart. I tried to breathe without panting. “I … I don’t want you to think … I mean, I wanted to talk to you about … um …. Where did you come from? You really startled me!”

He held up some leaves in his hand. “Tabernate Iboga,” he said, as if that made any sense. “ A very powerful form of jasmine, for tea. It grows right over there.” He turned and pointed into the darkness. “Ann asked me to pick some.”

We stood facing each other for the longest time. “I should go,” I said quietly.

“You obviously came here for a purpose,” he answered.

“It’s not the purpose you think.”

“I don’t know what to think until you explain,” he said matter-of-factly.

He stepped closer to me … very close, and reached toward me. I didn’t move. My breathing seemed labored. But he reached past me and turned the doorknob, giving it a shove inward. He withdrew his hand again, and I was very, very conscience of my chest heaving. Why hadn’t I bothered putting on a bra that morning? His eyes flicked across my breasts, but didn’t linger, and now he was holding me captive in his eyes, trapping my own with his. I swallowed. He was motioning with his hand and arm for me to go in. Finally, I turned and did so.

The cabin was primarily a single room, with two doors in the back, obviously one a closet and the other a bathroom. A bed was at one side under a window. One corner of the room held a sort of kitchen. The candle was there, at a sink, providing the only illumination. He left the door open and crossed to open one of the windows. A gentle breeze wafted through the place. The flame began fluttering, making everything dance. He went to it and put a candle globe over it, and the light steadied again. “Can I get you a glass of wine?” he asked.

I didn’t know what to do … how to act. “I shouldn’t,” I said. He stood, looking at me. “Okay,” I said in a small voice. He turned and went to a small icebox and got a bottle that had already been opened, pulled the cork out with his fingers, searched for a clean glass.

“Please, sit down.”

“I should go,” I said stupidly, taking the wineglass. I looked around. There was a table with two chairs, but for some reason, I walked to the bed and sat on it instead. My heart was pounding. I took a few ragged breaths. “Auntie is with Freddy,” I said, then chastised myself. Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Yes,” he said simply. “I know.”

“It’s not what you think,” I muttered. “I mean … why I came here. You think I came here because … um … to be with … I mean … I’m not trying to get even with ….”

He took a chair from its place by the table and set it in front of me, then sat down facing me. He was very close to me. I let him take my free hand in his own. “Take a breath, Brenda. It’s easier to talk when you breathe.”

I twittered a nervous laugh. “I only came because … I was worried about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. When you looked at them … up at the house … when you saw them ….”

“You think I’m jealous of your husband?”

“No. I know it’s something else,” I told him quietly, emphatically. “I know it’s something more.”

He breathed a deep sigh. “Ah,” he nodded, “the empath. I had heard that you were very powerful. I had thought that I was hiding my feelings from everyone. But, of course, I couldn’t hide them from you.”

“You love her,” I said gently.

He regarded me curiously. “Well yes, of course.”

This confused me. “But you’re not jealous?”

The sincerity of my question seemed to startle him. “I suppose I am a little. But she’s had dozens of lovers … more than I care to know about. They come. They go.” He shrugged. “I serve her, when I am here, because I love her … and because I choose to. She loves me, as well … in her own manner. That is just the way she is. I don’t wish to change the woman I love.”

“But you’re in pain,” I persisted. “You have some terrible problem. I KNOW you do! I want to help, if I can. What is it, Raul?”

He began gently playing with the fingers of my right hand using both of his. I let him. I told myself that he needed close personal contact. There was a growing empty sensation just below my stomach. I tried not to think about the feeling of my erect nipples rubbing against the fabric of my tee shirt as I took each ragged breath.

He was quiet for a long time. “You are making this very difficult,” he said at last.

He kept playing with my fingers. “What is it, Raul? Tell me!”

Again he hesitated. “You think I am an ignorant peasant,” he muttered.

“No. Of course not.”

“I have a Masters Degree from La Universidad Nacional de Lomas de Zamora, in Argentina,” he said quietly.

Okay, that DID surprise me. “What do you do?” I asked.

“I studied what you Americans most fondly refer to as parapsychology,” he said, still keeping his voice very low. “I am … I’d guess you’d call me a medium. Most people refer to me as ‘brujo.’ Warlock. Witch. I help people.” He shrugged. “I TRY to help them, anyway.”

“What do you do for Auntie?”

“I do whatever she wants,” he said soberly. “But mostly, I wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For you.”

I sat, engulfed in feelings that ran the gambit from lust to terror. His hands were infuriatingly gentle. I couldn’t find my voice. “I … I … don’t understand.”

“She has asked me to seduce you,” he told me quietly.

* * *

DEE:

“Do you like the tea, dear?” Ann asked. I was sitting on a small front porch, looking at the stars and moon battling for supremacy of the sky.

I took another sip. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever tasted,” I answered. “It’s good, though.”

“I made it just for you. It’s been seeping all evening.” She walked out into the night and sat beside me, close, our shoulders touching. I thought about how different people were throughout the world. In America, people demanded “personal space” around them. Here, things were obviously much more intimate. I breathed in the fragrant night air. My head nodded a little. The stars seemed to shift in the sky.

“Drink the rest of it, dear,” she told me gently. “Drink it now, please.” I looked down at the cup in my hand, breathed a sigh, and raised it to my lips; but the stupid thing didn’t seem to know what to do when it finally got there.

I giggled. “Stupid cup!” I muttered around its edge.

“Here, let me help,” Ann said good-naturedly. She put her hand on mine and tilted the cup for me. I drank the rest of the tea and smacked my lips as she took it from my fingers.

“Thank you,” I said gently.

“You’re welcome.”

I gazed out at the night sky. “The stars are moving,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, they do that sometimes.”

We were quiet for a long moment. “Ann, my breasts are really, really full!”

“Yes, dear, I know. How does that make you feel?”

“They ache. And my nipples are SO big. My bra is too tight, and it’s rubbing against them.”

“I suppose you want to take it off.”

I thought about that. “It wouldn’t be right,” I replied in a whisper.

“Nonsense, dear. Here, let me help you.” She stood and began unbuttoning my short-sleeved blouse. I tried to help, but our fingers got tangled up and she patted my hands away. She finished, folded the garment and laid it on a small table, then pushed against my back so that I leaned forward. She started working the fastener to the bra. It popped free, and I breathed a huge sigh.

“That feels wonderful!” I told her. I settled back into the coolness of the chair and looked down at my engorged nipples.

“How wonderful?” she asked me. “What is the feeling doing to the rest of your body?”

I gulped and took a deep breath. “I … I shouldn’t say,” I replied. She didn’t answer that, and I didn’t like the silence. “I’m getting wet between my legs,” I said softly.

“You’re going to get your sexual juices on your shorts,” she said seriously. “Here, I’ll help you take those off, too.”

“Um ….” But suddenly she was pulling me upward. I felt the button of my shorts let go beneath her nimble fingers, and with a single, swift motion, she slid her hands down over my hips and I sat back again, completely nude.

“I’m naked,” I said.

“Yes.”

“It makes me feel small and helpless,” I whispered.

“That’s because you are, dear,” she said gently.

* * *

WILLIE:

I swam until I could feel the rollers begin to make me rise and fall, then turned and swam back, letting the fuzzy image of the full moon be my guide. Eventually, I saw the dock off to my right, and I knew where I was again, changing course slightly to the left, toward the center of the lagoon and the beach with my pile of clothes. As I neared the shore, I became aware of something in the water with me. Something big. Sharks very seldom came into the lagoon, so that was no real concern; and barracuda usually only attacked something bigger than themselves if provoked.

“Hello, Little One.”

I screamed! The voice had been very near; right beside me. “Daddy John?!”

“Ah, the Sea: The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head Spits in the face of heaven!”

I treaded water furiously. “Oh, my gosh, Daddy John! You scared me half to death! I thought you were a barracuda!”

“Well, I’ve never been called that,” he said merrily, “but: What’s in a name?”

I laughed nervously, taking in a mouthful of water as a result. I coughed. “Please, Daddy! Stop with the Shakespeare, already!”

“Why are you bobbing around like that?” he asked. For the first time, I noticed that he was obviously standing up.

“I can’t reach the bottom,” I told him.

“Then allow me to be your island.” He reached out his long arm and grasped me, one-handed, at the side of my waist, then pulled my naked body easily to himself. My hands went instinctively to his shoulders. His arm was around me, now. I became immediately aware that he was naked, too.

“Daddy!” I shrieked.