The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Fertile Fields

Chapter 2: Distractions

The wind chimes were still blowing as Gerald left the restroom and stepped out into the afternoon sun. Somehow everything seemed more threatening now. The bells ringing sounded in his mind like dinner bells and the wolves were waiting in the shadows to claim his mind. Why he felt this way, Gerald Tripper wasn’t at all sure of. What began as a dull throb of a headache in the back of his skull began to pound and take over his thoughts. The writing on the walls of the old bathroom were more than disturbing. He wasn’t sure how he knew it but there was something to those words, as though a cryptic warning had been transmitted by his reading them.

Looking around, he was acutely aware of every distant movement in the dark forest and the swaying of every blade of grass in the field behind the service station. Something was here, something was waiting in this place. But what did it want?

Making his way back to the RV, Gerald suddenly remembered Missy saying she was going to head inside and see what snacks they might have. Just the thought of her being alone in there bothered him more than it should have. The words in the bathroom were just words. Why did he seem so focused on them now?

Turning towards the front of the old building, Gerald walked around to the main entrance. The place looked run down and unused for thirty years at least. The glass was smattered with dust and debris, no doubt from decades of rain and wind. There were cracks and faded painted signs over much of the windows. The news stand out front had two old papers sitting inside it. Taking a look, Gerald saw that the date was smudged and much of the ink was either worn away or simply faded. One thing that was clear was the price on the rack these papers sat in. He wasn’t even sure how long ago papers cost just ten cents, but it wasn’t anytime recent.

The bell over the door jingled as he walked in. Otherwise the place was as silent as a cemetery. The air smelled stale and thick with age. The shelves nearby were covered with canned goods but somehow even the cans seemed ancient. In one direction was a back door that said ‘Employees Only’, in the other direction was the main register counter. There was no one anywhere to be seen. It didn’t really look as though anyone had been around here in years.

Gerald studied a few old magazines from the rack nearby. They appeared to have been undisturbed for years but the paper was brittle looking and beginning to yellow. He figured Missy must’ve seen the place was abandoned and headed back to the RV. One thing caught his eye as he turned to leave, one thing that strengthened that pounding in the back of his head and somehow made the panic those messages in the restroom had brought into being even stronger.

Laying on the counter next to the register was his wife’s purse. Gerald stood there staring for a moment, unsure as to whether it was really what he was seeing. Taking a few steps and then a few more, Gerald came right up to where Missy’s purse lay, seeming just as abandoned as anything else in the place.

“Missy?” Gerald called out. “Missy, are you around?”

He tried not to show the fear in his voice but never-the-less he shook a little in his pitch. Picking up the purse, Gerald briefly looked it over. Nothing seemed wrong with it and her billfold and everything was still sitting inside, undisturbed. Where was she though? Missy would never lay her purse on a public counter and simply walk off somewhere. At least not willingly, Gerald worried.

As he turned back to the employee door, Gerald couldn’t help thinking of all the degrading and downright disturbing things he’d read on the walls of the restroom. ‘They took my family, and then they got me.’ Had someone taken Missy? Was he just panicking and judging this place on the condition it was in? Or was something bad happening, something he didn’t dare imagine?

Gerald hoped he was wrong in his concern. He hoped so desperately as he rushed through the back door and into a darkened section of the building.

* * *

Hilary had just read the same line in her fashion magazine five times. Something was really bothering her, a distracting thought that nagged at her and seemed to be getting worse. She’d seen her dad pass by and head into the old service station a few minutes before. But it wasn’t his presence that distracted her. She couldn’t really say what it was, but her head had begun pounding almost as soon as they stopped the RV.

She laid the magazine aside and took a breath, leaning back and relaxing on the couch. Her hands came up and rested on her stomach. As the girl breathed deeply, she closed her eyes and tried to picture what the source of her frustration was.

It was quite simple, now that she took the time to focus on it. The problem was Matthew. He’d been a real brat lately and stealing her bra and making fun of her because she had large breasts was really hurtful.

Without even noticing it, Hillary moved both hands up until they rested on her breasts. She lightly pressed her palms into their size, poking at her nipples and wondering what was so bad about having large breasts. The stupid little twerp probably was just trying to get a rise out of her and of course she’d played right into his hands. Hands, Hillary thought. She bit her lip and tightened her own fingers around as much of her breasts as possible. They were much too large for her to really fit one in each hand comfortably, but she could still squash her palm into her chest tighter and bring a strangely pleasurable feeling to her wandering mind.

In her thoughts, Hillary pictured herself at school. Sure, the other girls were smaller, but she wasn’t some freak. Why did Matthew have to call her one, to say that her hooters were only meant to get guys hard? Wait, she thought. Did he say that? No, it was something like it though, she realized. Her brother thought she was a real slut. She wasn’t a slut. Just because she had big tits and was proud of them didn’t make her a slut.

Hillary continued lightly fondling her breasts as she widened her legs and brought her knees up on the couch. The sound of a clicking door didn’t even phase her until a rather startled gasp followed that click.

“What the hell are you doing?” Matthew asked. His voice was raised to an almost comical level, the interest and enjoyment in what he saw rather plainly apparent.

Hillary opened her eyes, looked down, and noticed she was cupping her breasts like she was holding them in or something. Letting go, the girl sat up and shook her head. She’d simply been lost in her own thoughts, nothing wrong with that, right? Right, she tried to tell herself.

“Um... Nothing, what are you doing out? Mom said to keep away from me.”

“I just got thirsty and thought I’d get something from the fridge. Had no idea I’d see you copping your own feel.”

Hillary flashed a short angry stare but something seemed to click in her brain almost as quickly. The frustration over what the twerp had been saying earlier returned but with the oddest twist. She looked down at her tank top and then up into Matthew’s grinning sneer. Licking her lips, she fought to find the words she wanted to ask.

“Matthew, did you really mean what you said earlier?” Hillary asked.

Matthew stared at his older sister and wondered what her game was. Where was this going? He answered rather quickly to avoid over-thinking what her angle was.

“About you being destined for stripper fame?”

Hillary stretched one leg out before her and felt the tingles his words brought. Why was she feeling this way? The twerp was insulting her once again and now she seemed to be somehow enjoying those words. She grit her teeth and pressed a hand tightly into the couch cushion.

“Yeah, do you think that’s all I’d be good for?” Hillary asked quietly.

Matthew laughed and walked over to the fridge. “Come on Hillary, we both know those hooters of yours are the reason you have so many friends back home. Girls wanna be seen around you, and guys just wanna get a hand on those puppies. Why are you asking?”

Hillary found herself staring at Matthew but her mind was somewhere else. She thought about the guys she knew at school. Did they really just want to feel her up or something? Was that really all guys wanted? The thought made surprising sense and somehow her head seemed to throb a little less in just admitting Matthew might have a point.

“Do you want to?“She asked.

Matthew had his head in the fridge, looking past the milk and OJ and trying to find that last soda he knew was hiding somewhere. He leaned back for a moment.

“Do I want what?”

Hillary found herself perched on the edge of the couch, arching her back more than she usually did, staring down into her generous cleavage.

“Do you wanna get a hand on them?”

There was a loud thunking sound as Matthew banged his head on the top of the fridge, trying to pull it out and turn towards his sister. “Do I what?” He said. The expression on his face was pure shock and possibly just a hint of a grin.

“You know, is that what you want, to get your hands on my tits?”

Hillary meant every word she said, although somewhere in her mind she was questioning why she’d even entertain this discussion with the little twerp. She smiled and leaned back, raising the back of one hand up and pressing lightly into her left breast.

Matthew was staring, both the refrigerator door and his mouth hanging partially open. He looked down at his sister’s tits and had to catch his breath a little. What was her game here? He knew something was up. It had to be.

“Why are you asking?” He finally said.

Hillary almost seemed frustrated with the lack of an answer. She leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, letting her skirt ride up a little more. As she sat there, she shook the one leg, trying to sooth her unusually intense teenage mind.

“I wanna know. You said all guys wanna do is get their hands on these.” Saying this, Hillary raised her hands up and cupped her tits. “I just figured you’re a guy. You must want the same thing.”

Matthew stood by the fridge, thankful the little half counter was blocking his building erection at his sister’s words. Why was she talking like this? Where were the names, the threats of permanent bodily injury? And why was she being so obvious in showing off her breasts?

“I’m your brother, what are you even hinting at here?”

Hillary smiled, an unusual look for the girl in his eyes. She then laid her hands down in her lap and leaned forward, letting the young flesh billow up towards the top of her tank top. It easily looked like she grew three more cup sizes when she leaned forward like that. She then winked at him.

“You are a guy too, I want to know the truth. Do you just wanna feel them?”

Matthew actually felt his bulge shift at that comment. His sister was acting out of character to say the least. Something was definitely up. But his young teenage brain still begged for the opportunity to fight fire with fire. If Hillary was calling his bluff, what might happen if he called her bluff right back?

Taking a breath and stepping out from the kitchen nook, Matthew approached his sister. Looking down into her cleavage, he smiled wide.

“You are right. I am a guy. But what makes you think I’d want to feel you up?”

Hillary felt almost upset at the way he spoke and she could feel the inner struggle of why she was feeling that way. It wasn’t the insulting tone, it was the indication that maybe he wasn’t interested. Why did she suddenly feel as though it was important Matthew want to feel her breasts? That was just messed up. He was her brother and a twerp. Having someone like him lay even the hint of a finger anywhere near her chest was creepy and wrong. Still, she could only answer the way she felt.

“You said I have big hooters. What was it you said about me having milkers like a human cow or something?”

Matthew stopped grinning and stood there confused. “Yeah... I think it was something like that.”

Hillary reached up and lightly took one of Matthew’s hands in hers. She caressed his skin and pulled his fingers towards her tank top. Pressing his hand into the warmth of her large teenage tits, Hillary gasped and felt the pleasure that brought strange relief to her headache. She grinned and leaned back, pulling Matthew more into her, so his bulge came closer towards her face and his hand was now copping a decent feel of her left breast.

“Do you really think I’d make a nice cow?” She asked.

Matthew had lost this battle of wills. He leaned down and squeezed his sister’s breast, feeling the soft, spongy warmness he’d only imagined before. He looked into her eyes and realized this was no game. The girl was serious.

“What the hell?” He muttered weakly. This was simply too strange.

To Be Continued...