**Standard Disclaimer**
WARNING! This story is a work of fiction and, as such, is merely presented here for the discretionary use of adults. It contains explicit descriptions of sexual behavior. The author in no context condones the behavior described herein. If you are a minor; if such material is illegal in the jurisdiction in which you live, or; if such subject matter might offer you offense: READ NO FURTHER. The presentation of this article with its Disclaimer denies liability for offenses received through the reader’s disregard of this WARNING.
The Hypnotist
Part 1 ...The Husband’s Tale
The old man invited us to his place for a private demonstration of hypnosis. “Come on, John. It’ll be fun,” my wife said.
He lived in an old victorian townhouse off Fifth.
“Have a drink first. This is special liquer from South America.” He handed us the tiny glasses. My wife and I sipped it. It was green and very bitter tasting. After a little, I got very drowsy. Marion, next to me, looked like she was falling asleep.
“I think we are ready now for a demonstration. Both of you come here and place your eyes into these binocular eyepieces.”
I felt such a strong urge to obey him. We got up and fitted our eyes into machines.
“Yes. That’s right. Now, I want you to stare straight ahead into the machines. On no acount are you to look away. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” we both said instantly. I wanted to do exactly what he told me.
The bizarre light patterns began to flicker, then spin, getting brighter, more bizarre, pulling me down and in. My mind went blank.
When I regained consciousness, I was slumped on the couch. I had no idea how I got there. I was naked. I had an erection. I was awake, but I wasn’t awake. A strange state of helpless euphoria held me in a kind of paralysis. I looked around weakly, as if I’d just come out of a coma.
The old man was in a heavy chair some fifteen feet away. He was paying no attention to me. My wife was sitting in his lap. Her arms were around his neck.
She was kissing him passionately. She was naked! Her legs were parted! As they kissed, the old man was caressing my wife’s pussy!
Somewhere, faraway, my shock and indignation stirred, but I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t do anything but stare at them.
“You have a delightful cunt, my dear,” I heard the old man say.
“I hope it pleases you,” I heard my wife reply. She was breathless. “I want to please you in ...every way.”
What was she saying??
“I know, my dear. And, you will. Tonight, we shall make real all those dark fantasies that you told me about in our little session earlier.”
What ‘dark fantasies’? What ‘session’? What was that old man doing to my wife?
What had happened to me?
She thanked him and kissed him, spreading her thighs even more. She was sitting like a frog. “Am I wide enough for you?”
“For the moment, yes. Push down hard. That’s it. Screw yourself onto my hand. You want them in deep, don’t you?”
“Ohhh....yesss...”
“You’re a wet little whore. Do you get this wet with your husband?”
“...No... I’m never this ...excited with John.”
“Well, we’re going to see you get much more excited than this before the night is through.”
What the hell was happening?? Why was my wife saying those things to a stranger? Why wasn’t she struggling against him? Why couldn’t I get angry? Why couldn’t I move?
They continued to kiss. I could see his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth. She was sucking on it feverishly. The old man finger-fucked her steadily while they kissed. Marion began to squirm and bounce in his lap. Then I heard the telltale moan signaling she was climaxing!
“That’s it, my little slut. Come for me. Pour it out onto my fingers. Show me how hot you are for it,” the old man growled.
“I’m hot! ...I’m hot for it!!", my wife squealed back, clinging desperately to his neck as she humped his fingers.
I wanted to cry out. I wanted to yell. No words came. I had no strength. I could only lie there and watch.
“Look. Your husband is awake.” The old man had finally looked over. “By the look of his little penis there, he’s been watching you.”
Marion gazed over at me glassy-eyed. There was no acknowledgement that she saw me. I might have been a ghost for all the effect her seeing me had on her. She was still squirming slowly against him. Seeing me looking, she made no attempt to close her legs. “......Oh....", was all she said.
“Has he ever seen like this with another man?”
“Noo.... I’ve never...” Her answer trailed off.
“Of course you haven’t.” The old man clamped his hand over her cunt. She sobbed with unmistakable pleasure. The sound was like a knife to me. There was no shame in her moaning.
“How does it make you feel, letting him see you putting out for another man?” His words were crude.
“I...don’t...know...", my wife flustered.
“Does it excite you? Look. He can see you squirming your naked pussy against my hand. Does it get you hot; him watching you?”
“I...don’t...know... ...Yesss...! Yessss....it gets me hot...!” She hugged him and looked right at me. Her eyes alight, she ground her pussy on his hand.
“That’s it, baby. Show him,” the old man encouraged her. He went on in that same derisive tone. “Is that the thing he uses to fuck you?”
Marion knew what he was referring to. “Yes...", my wife replied. “Not very impressive. Not very stimulating either, I bet, for a hot bitch like you. Am I right?”
“He...tries.", she blushed.
“That’s not an answer!", the old man barked back. “Does he get you off?”
“Sometimes...", Marion answered defensively.
“When was the last time?”
“I...don’t remember...”
“A day? A week? A month? Which?”
“.....A month...”
“More like six months, isn’t it? ...Isn’t it!”
“....Yes...”
“I thought so.”
Does he know about your fantasies?”
“Noo... I could never tell John about that...”
“You told me. ‘Men...with big cocks...fucking me...everywhere’, you said. And, all the other things; ‘sucking’ and ‘being tied up’ and ‘hurt’ that you dreamt about and wanted.”
“Yes. ...I wanted you to know...", Marion answered weakly. The old man had repeated whatever conversation they had had while I was unconscious for my benefit. He wanted me to hear about her fantasies.
This was how I heard about my wife’s sex fantasies. How could she tell those things to a stranger and not to her husband? How could she tell him about our lovemaking? I was devastated, but my mind wouldn’t let me react. I lay there. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks. I couldn’t raise my arm to wipe them away. In a blur, I continued to stare at them, helpless.
Part 2
The Wife’s Tale....
When the old man finished with me and with John, he sent us home in his limousine. It was nearly dawn. John and I didn’t say much to each other. We were deep in our own thoughts. We knew, too, without knowing, that the old man had left a spell cast over us. We knew we were not free. In my heart of hearts I didn’t want to be free of him, but I couldn’t tell John that. I was dazed and in shock. I still couldn’t believe I had been fucked by three men; one of them old enough to be my grandfather. My mind was a mass of confusion. I had begged to be fucked in front of my husband. I had sucked the old man and swallowed his cum willingly while my husband was being sodomized by a man who had just fucked me. I came in my husband’s mouth while two men spurted their sperm onto my face. Our marriage had been devastated. I had no idea how we could or would go on. I was so drained physically and mentally. I hurt all over and not just from the whipping the old man gave me (which made me cum violently). In the dark interior of that big car, the way I felt, I don’t think I cared what was going to happen to my marriage. I knew one thing. I never felt more like a woman than I did in that limo. I finally knew what it meant to be truly fucked and used by men. How could I ever go back to John’s little penis and his timid, furtive lovemaking? At the penthouse, the old man had taken me aside for a last kiss ...and a final bite of my nipples. “When I call you, you will come. Yes?” I couldn’t tell John. I couldn’t tell him I said ‘yes’ while I held the old man’s cock in my hand a last time. The old man didn’t need to use his spell on me. The limo dropped us off. We went up to the apartment. I was glad there was no one around at that hour. I was a mess. John was like a zombie. I wasn’t surprised. He’d sucked a man’s cock and swallowed. He’d been fucked in by both young men. The second time he actually fucked Rico back. He came with a man’s cock in his ass. John was not gay. At least, he wasn’t. He was definitely changed. They had broken his will. They had feminized him. The old man had encanted a spell on him before we left. When we were alone, the old man told me not to worry about my husband. “You can use him like we did,” he said cryptically. “He wants it. Be as forceful as you want with him. he will obey.” “John. I’m covered in sperm. Go run my bath.” I half expected him to curse me, considering. To my astonishment, he nodded meekly and hurried off to the bathroom. I heard the water running.
The idea of my husband as a faggot, running around doing my bidding appealed to my new new, bizarre personality. I suspected the old man’s hand in how I felt. I just knew that John had done nothing while I was fucked for hours. It had been humiliating watching him sucking and fucking his ass back onto Gordo’s cock. (It had also aroused me fiercely.) It may have been the old man’s spell, but I was going to turn my weak, fag husband into what he had become.
I slipped out of my dress. I hadn’t bothered putting my panties back on. My nipples were swollen up like two golf balls. They were so tender and sensitive. I could have cum if I caressed them. My pussy, too was swollen. The lips were like two fat mice. I throbbed down there lusciously. I was sopping. Cum was running down my thighs. John came in. My bath was ready. I wanted more. Why not, I thought.
“Come here,” I said sternly. I fell back on the bed and pulled my legs up to my chest, presenting my pussy and my asshole. “See what’s there?” He could see the pool of sperm smeared everywhere.
“Yes.”
“Some of it’s Gordo’s and you know what he tastes like already. You’re my husband. You should clean out othe men’s sperm from my pussy and my ass.” There was a light in his eyes. He was staring intently at my dripping cunt. I could seen then what the old man had done. What he had meant. John wanted it! “Are you getting an erection?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Because you want to suck the old man’s fuck juice out of me?” I wanted to be crude. I wanted to know. It excited me.
“Yes, I want to ...very much,” he said.
“Then, do it! Get on your knees and suck out all their sperm. From my ass, too. "
I was hot. “Do it! Now!”
I don’t know how many times I came before he finished.
chapter...
The old man didn’t call in those first two weeks. I was changed. In three years of marriage, I never looked at another man. Four days after the night with the old man, I got fucked by the latino stock boy. He’d come on to me before, but I always joked it off. He was handsome and very sure of himself. I never admitted it, but he had always turned me on in the past. I was down in the stock room alone. He came in. He came over close to me and whispered how he’d like to do me. I tried to make a joke, but it didn’t work. He saw me tremble. He saw the signs of the changes in me. He recognized my vulnerability. He pinned me against the boxes with his body, forcing that obscene bulge in his tight pants against my belly. He was huge! The old man’s spell over me made sure I responded to that male cock. I groaned and pressed back against him. He smeared his mouth against mine and thrust his tongue out. It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. I thought of Gordo’s fat tongue in my mouth the other night. I sobbed and opened wide. He plunged it in. Shivering, I sucked on it. Submissively, I circled my arms around his neck. He felt me up while we kissed. Roughly. Brazenly. Intimately. He unzipped himself.