1996: New Hampshire
By Hypnofur
This all started because my son was terrible at Little League. Soccer and basketball too. Now I understand it seems like quite a jump from his athletic failings to me watching my wife get fucked by some North Country lowlife, but I can explain.
It was the late fall of 1996. At that time my son was in tenth grade. We were starting to think about college. We live in a very affluent town in Massachusetts, a suburb just outside of Boston. My son went to a private school, and college prep was a big part of the program there. The guidance counselors started telling us how he needed to be a more well rounded student. They said his grades were strong, but admissions really liked to see some sort of athletics as well.
We knew he couldn’t make the baseball, basketball, or soccer teams. Football wasn’t even remotely an option, and his asthma kept him out of track or cross country. We were actually pretty worried about it. Being an only child, he gets a lot of our focus. That October, we were at a dinner party with some friends. We were discussing our plight, and someone mentioned that their child had been on the ski team. It was a brilliant recommendation, as we had been skiing as a family for years.
My wife, Emily, and I were delighted. We immediately began researching ski teams and clubs. Massachusetts doesn’t have any ski mountains. They are all in New Hampshire, Vermont, or Maine. Our town was a bit north of Boston, and it wasn’t too far from some of New Hampshire’s better mountains. We purchased a condo up there, and got my son signed up with a well-respected teen ski club up there.
The condo we purchased was in a complex. It wasn’t really Emily’s style to be in a “complex”, but she had limited choice, as it was early November by the time we found it. The first weekend we went up to our new place, all three of us went up. We were busy getting the condo in order, but noticed that the other residents of the complex loved to party. They had a big bonfire and carried on late into the night. Emily, who can be a bit… snobbish, was not impressed. She went on and on about the “New Hampshire people” the whole ride home. I knew it was going to be a long ski season.
We had to go up again the next weekend, as the coach of the ski team wanted to meet with Emily and I to make sure we understood the commitment of the program. He said it was a parents only meeting, so we left our son with my mother. Unfortunately, as Saturday morning rolled around, I ended up having to go into the office for a computer server shut down crisis, so Emily took her own car up there first, as there were some new decorations that she wanted to get for the condo. Interior design is a passion of hers.
Now, this was 1996. There were car phones, but no cell phones. It was common to not know where someone was at all times, as you couldn’t just call them or text them. When I finally got to the condo around 3 pm, I noticed that Emily was not in the condo, even though her BMW was out front. We had our meeting with the coach at 4, so we were a bit pressed for time.
Hearing a party next door, I popped over, to see if she was there. Frankly, I thought it was the last place in the world she would be, but it was worth a try. Walking past the motorcycles that were parked out front, I knocked on the door. A very friendly, somewhat overweight woman with a beer in her hand answered. I could hear country music in the background.
“Heeeeey. You must be Alan!” she screamed as she hugged me. I didn’t know how she knew my name… unless Emily was actually there? Beers and country music were not her scene to say the least.
The woman took me by the hand and pulled me into the condo. It had about ten or so people in it. The layout was the same as ours, but it certainly didn’t have Emily’s classy design touch. Lots of very friendly, beer drinking guys, some dressed in motor cycle garb, shook my hand.
“Damn, you’re a lucky man. You’re old lady is a fox!” one of them said to me with a big belly laugh.
“Thanks” I said politely as I scanned the room for Emily, finally spotting her out on the small porch. She looked… really relaxed. This was not adding up in my head, as everything and person at this party was something she would typically have a problem with. The beer, the smoking, the country music, and frankly, the class of people were all typical “no-no’s” for Emily. Yet, there she was, out on the porch, in her sable coat, resting on the railing, chatting away.
I went up to her. “Hey Em, what’s up? How are you?” I asked, trying not to give away the fact that this was a very bizarre situation to any of the people that she was standing with, all of whom were now watching me.
“I feel wonderful. Very relaxed” Emily said, almost automatically. The weirdness level had not dropped at all yet!
The two men and three women she was standing with all started laughing hysterically at that point. As if this was some big joke that I wasn’t in on. At this point I got annoyed.
“What is going on?” I asked, fairly seriously.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. This is my husband’s fault” one of the women said with a laugh, touching my shoulder. She was the most attractive of the bunch, though certainly not at Emily’s level. She was probably about 45 or so. Emily and I were just turning 40 at that point.
“What happened?” I said again, not laughing myself.
“He hypnotized her. He does that. He was a hypnotist back in the 70’s. It is just a party trick. Don’t worry sweety, she’s fine.” The woman said, as if that was a normal explanation.
“How exactly did this transpire?” I asked, trying not to seem like a hothead, but not exactly friendly either.
“She came over to ask us to turn down the music. Ricky answered the door. He probably talked to her for a second then gave her the handshake induction. When I got to the door, she was leaning against him, head down, completely in la la land. I knew right there and then he had put the whammy on her. He does that!” she laughed.
“Guilty as charged” an older guy in a Harley Davidson shirt said, sticking his hand out. I presumed that was Ricky. Ricky was probably about 50? 55? He had a beard and a beer gut. He was a pretty big dude. Your typical New Hampshire biker type I guess.
I shook his hand, but made it quick. Not that I was afraid he would ‘whammy’ me but… I just made it quick.
“Yeah, well. That’s a lot of fun, but we actually have to go. We have a meeting for our son.” I said.
“Ohhhhh, nooooo!” the woman hollered.
Rick piped in. “No, you can’t leave. Besides, Emily wants to stay. Emily, tell hubby you want to stay” he said.
“I want to stay” Emily told me quickly.
“Em, seriously. Snap out of it. We have the meeting with the ski coach. We have to go” I said to her.
“Emily, tell him to go without you. You want to stay here with me.” Ricky said, this time a little less lightheartedly.
“Go without me. I want to stay here with Ricky.” Emily told me.
I was losing my temper I grabbed her hand, and she pulled it away from me quickly. “I want to stay!” she said angrily.
“Ok, ok, ok. Let’s everybody calm down here.” Ricky’s wife said to us. “Sweety, you go to your meeting. It is the middle of the afternoon. We’ll all be here. I’ll keep an eye on Ricky, and make sure he doesn’t try any of his tricks. His hypno bullshit don’t work on me. I’ll keep an eye on your pretty little thing here. Seriously, we’ll be fine. We can all get some pizzas when you get back.”
I didn’t like this one bit, but I didn’t see a way out of it either. This ski coach was one of those super discipline guys. I knew that if we were late for the meeting it would be a big deal. I had no choice but to reluctantly agree to leaving Emily at that condo.
I was both angry and nervous as I drove off to the meeting. The meeting itself went quite well, though I wished Emily was there with me like she was supposed to be. The coach was great, the team seemed great. It was all we hoped it would be. My spirits were higher as I was leaving the ski club office. All I had to do was get back, get Emily out of there, and by tomorrow things would be back to normal.
That feeling of optimism quickly went downhill as I got lost on the woodsy New Hampshire roads as the sun went down on my trip back. I swear, every god damned road up there looks the same. This was ’96, before GPS could save the day for you. Back then, when you were lost – you were lost.
It was probably 8:00 by the time I got back to the condo complex. By this time I was really freaking out. I went to our condo first, praying that Emily snapped out of it and had gone home. No such luck. Shit, she was still at that god damn biker condo. They were probably making her walk around and cluck like a chicken so they could all get a good look at her chest. I was angry, and ready for a fight as I knocked on the door of the party condo next to ours.
No one answered. It was quiet inside, the booming country music from before was off. I tried the door handle, and found it was unlocked. My heart was beating hard as I walked through the threshold into the living room. I still didn’t see anyone. Hearing movement back in the kitchen, I went to investigate.
“Hello?” I said. Looking down next to the kitchen table, I saw Ricky’s wife on her hands and knees, lapping up milk from a bowl on the ground.
She turned to me and said “Meow” before going back to her milk. Fuck. She thought she was a fucking cat. So much for Ricky’s hypno bull shit not working on her. At this point, I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I went upstairs. As soon as I was on the second level, I heard screaming. Oh god, was he hurting her?
Of the three bedrooms upstairs, only one had a closed door. That’s where the cries were coming from. It wasn’t until I was right outside that door that it I started to realize those frantic screams sounded more like moans than cries for help. I stepped forward slowly with legs that felt like they were made of jello and could barely move. I gently pushed the bedroom door open more and took a few steps in.
It was like a nightmare was taking place on the bed. I saw Ricky’s enormous body underneath the blanket. He was laying on top of my beautiful, classy, sophisticated wife. She was writhing on the bed and moaning deliriously as the old bastard hammered his hips into her.
It was like I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t talk. I could only watch. They hadn’t even noticed me come in. They were too loud, too into what they were doing. They kept at it.
I could make more sense of their frenzied moans now. I started to understand words and sentences. Ricky’s first. “That’s right little miss priss high and mighty, you are so deep under my control. You want this dick so bad” I watched in horror at his big, fat ass bouncing on top of her. I knew each up and down movement represented another thrust of his cock inside my wife. I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t even look away.
Emily was even less comprehensible. I’d never heard her like this in my life. It was like she was mad, her voice already hoarse from screaming at the top of her lungs. “Yes!” she cried. “You are in control! Fuck me! Don’t stop! Holy shit! You’re SOOOOO big! FUCK ME!” she wailed. This was insanity. My Emily didn’t swear… she didn’t love sex that much either… how could this be happening?
Emily screamed bloody murder. She thrashed around on the bed underneath his gigantic frame, howling like a crazed animal. I never would have believed she could act like this in my wildest dreams. Yes, I had always fantasized about her reacting this passionately to sex, but I never thought it would happen. Emily was sort of a prude. A beautiful prude, but a prude none the less.
Ricky was putting all of his enormous weight behind his pounding thrusts into her pussy, almost like he was punishing her purposely. It didn’t matter that he was overweight and probably north of fifty, his stamina and vitality were amazing. He slammed his colossal hips into her at a ferocious pace, pummeling her unprepared pussy with incredibly powerful thrusts. Her body shook.
“Cum on my cock with that hypnotized pussy again,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking tight. This is my pussy now! Your husband will never make you cum like this!” he said, plunging into her.
“It’s your pussy! It’s your pussy, Hypno Ricky! Your cock is so big! Oh, Hypno Ricky, yes! You are my Master! I love your huge, hypnotic cock! Fuck me! Shit, shit, shit. Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Emily’s body twitched and jerked. Her legs jumped off the bed and flailed up against the blanket. I watched her face contort with pleasure. She came, her body convulsing, screaming and crying. “I’m cumming so hard!” she sobbed. “I’ve never been fucked like this in my life! Fuck my hypnotized pussy! Yes! More! You’re so fucking big inside me I can’t take it!” she babbled on, pausing sometimes to squeal and shriek when she couldn’t contain the pleasure anymore without crying out.
“You’re one hot high class wife. You’re so fucking hypnotized….You’re gonna make me cum. Shit!” Tears were in my eyes as I watched his fat, sweating body seize up. He buried himself deep inside Emily and I knew that he was cumming by the way he was groaned. He filled up my wife, coating her pussy in his seed.
Ricky could barely catch his breath when they’d finished. Emily continued to tremble and quiver under him. She looked absolutely wrecked. The woman I loved, still moaning and cooing beneath this man that she would normally never even give the time of day to. I couldn’t believe that he was able to take such control over her with hypnosis. That he was able to turn her into such a sex loving slut. My Emily, my beautiful, prim proper, snobby wife, hypnotized into being a complete slut for her hypnotic master. Oh shit, I couldn’t believe I was hard as a rock.
I literally slapped myself in the face. My hand was trying to get the rest of my body to react. It worked, I snapped out of my own sort of trance and rushed over to the bed, pulling Ricky off of her. He was shocked, clearly he had not heard me come in. He went to say something, and I just punched him in the face. I think I broke his nose, as blood just started gushing down. I grabbed Emily’s sable jacket off the floor, threw it around her, lifted her off the bed in my arms and bolted out of the condo.
I didn’t even bring her to our condo. I threw her right in the car and drove home to Massachusetts right there in the middle of the night. I was so glad our son was at my mother’s house for the night, and wouldn’t be home at ours. Emily slept the whole ride home, not saying a word. When we got home, I carried her into our bed. She was still out like a light. So fucking weird. I laid in bed next to her for a little while, but I couldn’t sleep a wink, my mind racing a million miles a minute. I eventually moved down stairs to the couch.
I couldn’t sleep there either. All I could think about is Emily writhing and begging to be fucked harder. Using such harsh language. It was all so sexy, but so wrong to think about. God she was so fucking hot, but she never acted like that for me. She was so controlled by him. As I got lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize my hand had gone down my pants until I jerked off.
I must have fallen asleep after that, because I barely heard Emily come downstairs, completely showered and ready for the day. She didn’t make any mention of what happened the night before, why we were home, or any of the odd things about our current circumstances. I wondered if she knew what happened. Did she remember? Was this all part of some post hypnotic suggestion?
She didn’t mention anything the next day either. Or the day after that. Or any of the days for the next twenty years. Our son did join that ski team, though we ended up commuting to all the events. We never stepped foot in that condo complex again. I sold it through a real estate agent up there. I told Emily I just didn’t like the neighbors. She never really even commented on it. Making what was going on in her head even more of a mystery.
We never heard from Ricky again either. Emily stayed incredibly beautiful, despite her age, but also remained as conservative as ever. We haven’t been intimate in a few years now, which is probably not that odd for people our age. I don’t have the sex drive I once did, but I will admit that when I do jerk off, it is to thoughts of a hypnotized Emily writhing around and being fucked. I usually imagine myself in Ricky’s spot, having the power to control her mind and make her my slut. I guess it will always remain just a fantasy.