The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Persuasive

Chapter 2

When my family came to get me, I was a little surprised to see dad there with them. He was wearing a dark suit and sunglasses and his hair was immaculate as always. There was a tiny shading of stubble on his square chin. We gathered up my stuff and I changed into clothes they had brought me, said our goodbyes, filled out our forms and headed downstairs.

I thought I could get some fun out of this.

“Hey dad, why don’t you let me drive the Lexus?” I suggested.

He looked at me like I was nuts. “I don’t think so,” he said flatly.

“I really think you should let me drive, maybe just this once.” He never let me drive his car. He would this time!

“Not really an option. Especially not right out of hospital.” He didn’t even paused his stride. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. Maybe that was it: I’d used it up. A brief vision of nurse Vicki’s face gleaming with my seed popped through my head.

I had to know. I slowed just slightly to fall back with in step with my sister and step-mom.

“Hey Perry, maybe you should go barefoot,” I said. It was weird, but I didn’t actually need it to work.

“What? Um… ok..,” I saw the tightness cross her face for just a second before she stopped and started slipping off her shoes. Huh.

“I’m just kidding!” I jumped in. “Keep your shoes on. It’s cold out here!” I laughed.

“Wow, that was weird.” She slipped her heel back in and straightened before punching me lightly in the shoulder. “I figured I had to humor the sick kid,” she said. Sure, I thought.

Sabine was in full trophy wife mode today, with a goldenish jacket over a sheer black top that seemed like it barely came high enough to cover her nipples. She was in 2″ heels in black leather. We got to the care and dad swung in behind the wheel.

“Perry, why don’t you sit up front?” I suggested.

She frowned for a moment as she popped open the front door. “Mom, why don’t you sit in the back with me?” I asked. I called her mom only occasionally, when I was feeling very affectionate. Usually I called her Sabine.

“OK, darling, of course,” she replied, and we both got into the back seat. Dad was already on his phone to work as we pulled out of the parking lot.

With music playing and dad’s voice, loud and aggressive on the phone, I was pretty sure I could talk to Sabine in private. I had a few things to say to her.

“Sabine, keep your voice down, ok?” I said. She looked startled. It was a strange thing to say.

“OK, baby,” she said softly, conspiratorially. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to make some private suggestions, and I didn’t want anyone else to hear.”

“You are worrying me, baby,” she said. “What is going on?” She licked her lipsticked lips nervously.

“I’d like you to listen and accept my suggestions without getting worried or freaking out, ok?” I asked.

“OK…” she said.

“Are you going to do what I ask?”

“I don’t know…,” she said. Her eyes were large and blue, but her pupils were wide. Here we go.

“I’d like you to do what I ask of you. You are going to start thinking about me more and more. You are going to want to tease me, show off to me how sexy you can be, and…”

“Wait! No… baby, where is this coming from?” her face was a mask of concern and shock.

“Please just listen, and please do as I ask, Sabine, ok?” I pressed.

“I… don’t…. ok, I can listen, I guess, but I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you to do something. Think about me. You are going to be thinking about me, thinking about showing off your fantastic body. You are going to love the feeling of being desired by me, of being wanted. Will you do that?”

Sweat broke out on her forehead. She shook her head slightly to clear it and one hand went to her forehead as if she was trying to remember something. “No…,” she said, weakly.

“Yes, Sabine. Please do what I ask. You are going to love being desired by me. Every time you notice how much I want you, it will bring you intense pleasure, won’t it? You’ll think about more ways to entice and please me. Soon, you’ll be thinking about how much you want to please me with your body and your hands and your mouth… Won’t you, Sabine?”

She had both hands on her head now, and a little agonized moan came out of her. “I don’t know… it’s not good, baby… I can’t think…”

“Don’t think. Give in. Do what I’m asking of you. Sabine, look at me now.” She turned and looked me right in the eye. She was at the precipice. Her lips were open, her breathing shallow and you could barely see her irises her pupils were so large.

“Do as I say, Sabine. You just can’t resist any longer. Now.” And I watched that same slump I had seen three times now, the crumbling. She almost sank onto the seat. With an audible release of air, she drooped, the fight leaving her, the tension flooding out of her. I sat back in my seat.

When she sat up again, she was smiling, with a little twinkle that hadn’t been there before. She ran her hands through her hair and I couldn’t help notice that her hand slid down over one large breast as she put it back in her lap. The drive home was interminable: I was hard as a rock the whole time. I looked over and saw Sabine staring at my bulge. I was in sweatpants, so it wasn’t well hidden. She looked up into my eyes and bit her lower lip for a second. I wanted to take her right then.

Just before we pulled in to the cul de sac, I heard her whisper my name. I glanced over to see her hand slip up under her jacket and pull on a nipple slightly through the sheer material of her top. She was looking me right in the eye. I noticed my mouth was open.

“I gotta go,” my dad said, hanging up his phone as we pulled in.

We all clambered out of the car and I hear a loud, cheerful call from the house next door. It was Mrs. Jameson, out neighbor. Her husband was some sort of oil guy and she was always home alone, gardening.

“Hi Billy, welcome back! How are you feeling?” She was always very high energy, very neighborly and happy. She was older, mid forties or early fifties, with auburn hair that was always up in a bun under a sun-hat. Her chest was enormous, dwarfing even Sabine’s fake endowments, but she was always dressed, if not conservatively, at least appropriately. Mrs. Jameson always wore blood red 50’s pinup lipstick.

I called out my helloes and told her I was doing fine, then headed into the house.

We had been home a few hours, and I had been mostly laying down. Everyone was leaving me alone, mostly because my dad had to leave for a few days and was having a little argument with my step-mom about how much he was gone lately. Arguments with him were like arguing with furniture. I kept thinking about what I had started with Sabine, and it was making me hornier and hornier. I was itching to try out my new gift. I wanted to leave Sabine to percolate, so I decided to go next door.

I headed outside and around to Mrs. Jameson’s house. I didn’t want something slow and sweet this time, I was hungry and I wanted to eat. I wanted to see exactly how hard I could push.

I headed outside and around to Mrs. Jameson’s house. I didn’t want something slow and sweet this time, I was hungry and I wanted to eat. I wanted to see exactly how hard I could push.

I rang the doorbell and Mrs. Jameson came to the door. She was wearing a nice blouse of some floral print and jeans. The blouse was straining to hold the weight of her chest, and the buttons in front pulled against the fabric.

“Hello Billy! Great to see you!” She swept me up in a huge hug, her breasts squashing against me. “I was so worried when your mom told me about the trouble with the surgery! What are you up to over here?” I didn’t really ever stop by my older neighbors house.

“Yeah, it all went fine!” I said. “Can you invite me in, please?”

“Sure, of course!” She probably would have done that anyway.

I went in with her. Her house was beautiful. Lots of hardwood and glass. She took me into one of their sitting rooms and I sat down on the couch.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked in her chipper soprano. I noticed how red that shade of lipstick was.

“Yes, actually. Come sit here next to me, Mrs. Jameson,” I said.

“Of course!” She sat on the sofa, her hands in her lap and her legs together. She looked a little uncomfortable, not much so.

“Mrs. Jameson,” I thought I’d just go for it, “I’d like you to do whatever I ask.”

“What? I mean, I’m sorry... what did you..,” she sort of sputtered to a halt.

“Please listen to me and do what I ask, immediately, and cheerfully. Keep everything we do together a secret, and look forward to whatever I want from you next. Can you do that for me?” I said, calmly and firmly.

“That’s... I don’t even... " She could barely figure out what I was saying. I saw her pupils begin to grow.

“I want you to obey me. I want you to try to anticipate my wishes and desires and fulfill them. It brings you great joy and pleasure to do what I want, doesn’t it?” I was looking her straight in her hazel eyes. “You want to dress the way I want you to dress, and act the way I want you to act. Isn’t that right?”

Her face had flushed a dark red. “No... I can’t...”

“You can. You will.” My voice was louder and deeper. I leaned in. “You want to do what I ask. You want to fulfill my desires. Just thinking about making me happy and satisfied gives you such tremendous joy. You think about ways to make me feel good, to dress and act it the ways I want you to. Isn’t that right?”

“Please don’t make me...,” she whispered. Her hazel eyes were pleading, begging, scraping to hold on to what she thought was right. Her eyes were welling up with moisture.

“You will be mine to do with as I want, Mrs. Jameson. You will do what I ask and you will WANT to do want I ask. You will obey me without question or hesitation. Now, Mrs. Jameson. You WANT to obey...” She broke. With a whimper and a cry, she collapsed off the couch, head down, in a slump, her hands covering her face. We sat there for a moment, until I heard her sigh deeply. She looked up, her eyes different, focused. She slid up between my thighs, a smile on her full, red-painted lips.

“I think you need some taking care, of, don’t you Billy?” she hummed, like a languid tiger, her hands sliding up my thighs.

“And you’ll keep it a secret, won’t you, Mrs. Jameson?” I asked, smirking.

“Our special secret!” she said.

“That is excellent. Mrs. Jameson. What do you think I want from you now?” I asked.

“I think, while I’m down here, you want to put your cock in my mouth, don’t you Billy?” her nails were scraping erotically up and down my legs. “You want to feel my mouth on you, don’t you?”

“I... I do, yes..” I whispered back.

“Mmmm. Boys always liked my lips. My pleasure,” she purred. Her hands went to my belt, but before she could start undoing it, I stopped her.

“When you suck my cock, Mrs. Jameson, I will always want your hair down and your tits out for me.”

“Oh my! Of course!” She was so happy. She pulled the restraining pins from her hair, letting it tumble all around her shoulders in a crazy wave of gorgeous, silky auburn hair. Then she began undoing buttons until her massive tits were visible inside the white bra she wore beneath her blouse. Her hands caressed her breasts for a moment as she looked up at me, licking her lips, before she slid the blouse of her shoulders and her hands went behind her, freeing her huge, white tits. Her aureoles were large, and her nipples like thick, pink buttons, perfect and round. She pulled on them, stiffening them.

“Now? Is that how you like it?” she purred, her hands sliding back up to finish undoing my belt. She fished my dick out of my underwear, and it was at full attention. She moaned audibly, staring at it.

Then she slowly moved her head forwards until her lips met the tip of my cock. She engulfed me, her warm, wet, sucking mouth sliding over me very slowly. I watched my cock disappear between her blood-red-lipsticked lips. Up and down went her mouth, and it was heavenly. Her hand gripped the base of my shaft.

She slid off with a wet slurp. “I feel like I’ve always wanted this. Like I’ve been waiting for the feel of your cock on my tongue forever. I just want to taste your come. I want to be so good for you, Billy.”

“You are, Mrs. Jameson. Very....” I reached down to cup those huge, pale tits, feeling the delicious flesh beneath my fingers as her mouth returned to my dick. She began pumping me, with her hand and lips. This was not the first time she had ever done this.

“I like it when you play with yourself as you suck me.” I whispered to her, one hand sliding into her waves of auburn hair.

“Mmmm,” she moaned around my cock. Her free hand went to her breast, beginning to pull at the nipple, twisting it. Then it slid down her stomach to begin unbuttoning her jeans. Soon her jeans were pulled down around her thighs, and her fingers were working her clit as she sucked me, her tempo building. I felt my imminent end, but I couldn’t take my eyes off those enormous tits.

“Lay back, on the floor,” I told her. She stopped, looking almost sad, like someone had taken away a candy she was really enjoying.

She obeyed, though, lying back on the floor. I stood, finished removing my pants and straddled her, my hard cock right between those huge breasts.

“Of course!” she said, the smile returning to her face, realizing what I wanted. “Who could resist these?” she cupped her tits up and around me, her fingers making a web across the top of the chasm. “Do you want me to make you come with them? Do you want me to make you come with my beautiful tits? My husband never does anymore,” she was beginning to stroke up and down my cock with her pale breasts, making a perfect cave to caress and hold my hard dick. I started to fuck her tits, watching them bounce as I thrust between them. Her head went back and she started to gasp. Her lips were parted and she began whispering encouragements as I got closer. She was actively sliding her breasts up and down around me, making a perfect cave of tit-flesh. Each stroke between them elicited a little moan from her and a ripple over her tits. I felt my climax coming as I thrust once more, harder, and started to come. I began to spatter her chest and throat with pearly juice. She cried out, like she was coming herself. Her auburn hair was splayed out on the floor like a halo, and I noticed that one of my shots was in her hair. I slowly came down of the high, my last thrust sliding easily out from between the Mrs. Jameson’s glistening breasts.

We both sat there panting for a moment. She moaned lightly and opened her eyes, looking up at me.

“Mmmm.. I hope I was good for you, Billy...” she sighed. Her hands were massaging her breasts, scooping up come from her throat to rub into her nipples.

“Very good,” I replied getting off her. I stood up and started looking for my pants. Then I stopped, looking down at Mrs. Jameson, still idly rubbing my seed on her chest. “I don’t think you’re done, Mrs. Jameson...”

“No?” she looked puzzled, then looked down at my crotch. “Oh, of course, my love.” She got up on her knees, her hot mouth took my slowly deflating member inside with a slow slurp. She sucked the last come off me, nursing languidly on my shriveling, wet cock. After a long while, and after thoughts of taking her again began to give me the smallest stiffness back, she let my member out from between her lips, sitting back on her heels. “My husband used to make me do that when we were still in college, " she said, making a face. “I used to hate it. It was so disgusting and demeaning... but this is so different, isn’t it? I love doing that for you.” She looked dreamy.

“I am glad, Mrs. Jameson,” I said, pulling on my clothes. “Now before I go, there are a few things you can do for me...”

“Yes?” she asked, eagerly, still kneeling in front of me. Her lips were not as red now; most of her lipstick had come off on my cock.

“When you think I will want you, I expect you to wear a dress, not pants. And you’ll need to keep your lipstick fresh, of course. Before you service me next, you’ll need to go shopping. I want you to be wearing much more interesting underwear when I see you next.”

“Oh my, yes,” she said, her eyes starry.

“And a little more make-up, I think,” I said as I went the door. “And last...”

“Yes?”

“High heels, I think. You would look lovely in high heels.”

“Oh... of course, my love,” she said, beginning to pick up her clothes, my come already drying on her skin.

I went to the door and opened it. I was just about to step outside when she said one last thing.

“My love... you can call me Judy if you’d like...”

I looked back at her. Tousled autumn-colored hair. White skin. Full lips. Wide, dark-honey eyes. Heavy, pale breasts touched with just a sprinkling of freckles across the top. All mine.

“I’ll think about that,” I said, and closed the door.