Grandpa’s Hypnosis Dreidel
* * *Gwendolyn’s POV
“Would you young ladies like to see a neat trick?” my grandpa asks, a twinkle in his blue-grey eyes.
I beam at him, thrilled that he seems to be warming up to my best friend, Carly, even though he’s rather old fashioned and I knew that bringing her over might make him uncomfortable; she has a “seductress” passion for wearing crop tops and short skirts (not to mention his distaste for “miscreants with unnatural hair”) and her blonde locks are tipped hot pink. As expected, when he’d opened the door to let us in, his eyes had widened and then locked to mine in a silent message of: what in God’s name, Gwendolyn? But then he’d given us both a polite greeting and offered us bowls of hot, homemade soup.
We’d both eaten a silent dinner with him gratefully, tired from the long drive, and now that our meal is done, I’m glad Grandpa’s finally speaking freely to both my friend and I.
“We’d love that!” I say a little over-enthusiastically.
He pulls a coin from behind his ear and presents it to us. “Ta-da!”
I laugh, but then fall silent as Carly says, “Is that all?”
My foot finds hers under the table and I kick it, making her flinch. I assure him, “A silly but well-loved classic. Thanks for dinner, by the way, pops.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Carly says quickly, flushing.
Sometimes she can be a little socially inept, but I still love her and know she’s a good person at heart. If not for her, I wouldn’t have gotten an internship in the city (or had enough money to afford an apartment, because sheesh, shelter these days will bleed a person dry), and we wouldn’t be making our way to Portland together in her fancy car. Luckily my grandpa lives in a rural town about halfway between Portland and Huntsville, so I thought it would be nice to stay with him, for the weekend, until we hit the road again.
“I can show you something better, little miss,” my grandpa says, a small smile playing on his thin lips.
“Oh yeah?” Carly asks, grinning. “Try me, old man.”
I nearly kick her again but freeze when my grandpa bursts out into loud, wheezing laughter. Maybe he’s just being polite, but he sells being amused by my best friend well, and I can’t help but grin along with them.
“Can you look in that drawer over there, honey?” He points behind me at a large, wooden buffet and hutch cabinet, where his best chinaware lives. “It’s a little silver dreidel.”
I know my grandpa is old and has trouble walking, so I don’t mind getting up and digging through the cabinet’s drawers, shifting through old receipts and other odds and ends until my fingers finally brush against cool metal. It practically gleams in the dull light of the kitchen, intricate carvings etched into the flat sides, and I stare at it for a moment before I realize that I’m just standing there weirdly. Gently, I lift it as though it might break.
“It’s very pretty,” I say softly as I turn back to the table.
“An old family heirloom.” He smiles wistfully as though he’s remembering his childhood or something sweet. “Bring it here, please.”
I don’t know why, but I have the sudden urge to shake my head and pocket the trinket for myself. It feels very warm in my hand, almost like it’s a little flame of life, filling me with heat and vitality.
“One day I’ll give it to you,” my grandpa whispers, and I blink at him as I quickly walk forward, embarrassed that he must’ve sensed my hesitance and strange desire to keep it, somehow.
He takes it from me and a little sigh escapes my lips at its loss, but I also feel strangely relieved. Am I going crazy? Why the heck should I care so much for an old dreidel? Even if it is pretty, it’s just a useless toy that winds up mostly forgotten in some drawer….
“Forgive me, but I’ve already forgotten your name.” He looks at my best friend with a little frown, his large, wrinkled hand encasing the dreidel.
“Oh, I’m Carly. I graduated Huntsville University with Gwendolyn and—I’m sure she’s told you already that we’re about to join on at a big tech company in Portland, yeah? So, our plan was just to drive straight through but she told me that her grandpa lived—”
“He just asked for your name, silly!” I exclaim with a laugh; sometimes Carly can be a real talker, which I suppose is good because I tend to run quiet—and if she hadn’t befriended me eagerly, I doubt we’d ever have spoken at all.
Carly’s face turns nearly the shade of the tips of her dyed hair. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay, dear, it’s been a while since I’ve had such lively company.” My grandpa reaches out and pats the hand she has resting on the table. “Are you girls ready for a more entertaining trick?”
“Yes, please,” I say, and Carly nods.
“Watch closely.” Grandpa reaches out and spins the dreidel, which somehow seems to reflect all the light in the room, the intricate carvings blazing white. “Dreidel work, spinning bright, on girls with hair of barley. Dreidel capture, dreidel ensnare, the young lady before me, Carly.”
Sunspots seem to dance before my eyes as I blink rapidly, watching the dreidel spin and spin, until it stops spinning before falling noisily against the wooden table. Even in my hazy vision, I can see that Carly seems to have frozen in place, her expression weirdly blank.
“What’s going on?” I ask nervously.
“Just a little parlor trick,” my grandpa says softly. “Cluck like a chicken, Carly!”
Carly lets out a strange stream of ‘bawks’ and ‘buh-cawks’ until my grandpa says, “See? Enough, Carly.”
“Oh my God. Are you two screwing with me?” I’m so startled that I don’t mind my language or my tone.
My grandpa laughs that loud, wheezing sound again, and I glare at him. They are screwing with me!
“I never knew you were such a good actress,” I say to my best friend, who is still staring blankly at the dreidel. “I’m going to get you back for this!”
“Remember Carly, the magic word is barley. When I say it and snap my fingers, you will awaken or be entranced.”
“Very funny, pops,” I mutter as he spreads his arms out wide and says, with a snap of his fingers, “Barley!”
“What happened?” Carly asks immediately, rubbing at her forehead with her perfectly manicured fingers. “Did I miss it?”
“You two are something else.” I shake my head at them, annoyed now that they seem to have their own personal joke at my expense, but still happy that my grandpa is getting along better with my friend than I’d anticipated. “Come on, you nut,” I say to Carly, “Let’s go set up our sleeping bags in the living room.”
“I apologize for my lack of a guest room,” my grandpa says quickly. “I could always take the couch—”
“I wouldn’t hear of it!” The very suggestion makes me feel awful; my grandpa definitely needs to sleep in his own bed with his bad back.
Besides, Carly and I are going to have a great time camping out in his living room and watching old TV (because my grandpa still has an antenna instead of any sort of streaming services). The damn thing might even show picture in black and white. That would be pretty funny, and charming in a way. What’s not funny or charming is when Carly blinks at me and says, “Did I miss the trick?”
“You are the trick.” I stick my tongue out at her. If she thinks I believe that she was really hypnotized, she’s out of her mind, but I know she’s probably still toying with me. “Come on, let’s get our stuff from the car.”
I don’t notice my grandpa’s smug smile as we get up and make our way outside, or realize how my thoughts of a wholesome and cozy visit are world’s away from what’s really about to happen.
Frank’s POV
I rarely get aroused anymore, but ever since my granddaughter and her sleazy friend showed up on my doorstep, I’ve had trouble keeping all the blood in my body from rushing to my groin. Since when did young ladies start thinking it was okay to wear skirts that barely covered their derrieres? And shirts that don’t cover their navels? Only hookers wore such immodest clothing in my time, but Carly seems to think parading about in tight clothing that’s white excuses her from looking loose. I know the truth though. I bet she’s no stranger to young hooligan’s beds and the back seats of cars….
Not with the way anyone can see the bare curve of her ass with each step she takes. Not with the way her shirt seems to be missing the bottom half, exposing the smooth planes of her lower back. And not with the way her dyed hair falls to the line of her cleavage (and Lord-have-mercy does she have a rack on her).
Luckily, my granddaughter doesn’t seem to be caught up in such tomfoolery and continues to dress and present herself modestly. It helps that she still looks like the young girl I saw last; her delicate curves understated and waifish. A good Christian look! Which is a wonder since my son sired her on that Brazilian hussy he married (who ended up cheating and taking half of everything in a divorce that I’d always seen coming).
“Grandpa will it bother you if we watch TV for a while before bed?” Gwendolyn asks, her big brown eyes searching mine.
Usually, I like to sit in my easy-chair and read the bible aloud after dinner, and my sweet granddaughter knows this, but I’ll definitely bend my routine for her. “Be my guest, sweetheart.”
I want them to be distracted while I watch them anyway. It was obscenely simple to hypnotize Carly with my treasured dreidel (probably because she actually wanted me to, the little minx) and although it’s been a good thirty years since I last addled a young lady’s mind for my pleasure, I intend to see if she continues to strike my fancy before I decide to play with her more or not.
I’m sure plenty of others have played around with her—so I shouldn’t feel guilty for considering it.
Gwendolyn and Carly lay out on their sleeping bags in front of the TV, giggling like schoolgirls as they fish out bags of prepackaged popcorn and candy from a large duffel bag.
“I don’t have many channels,” I warn them.
“That’s okay, pops,” Gwendolyn says sweetly, smiling at me.
It warms my soul to see her angelic face. Her mother did give her some good traits at least: large, well-defined lips, naturally tanned skin, and thick, dark hair that falls nearly to her waist. It’s a pity that we’re related and that I’ve grown so old—otherwise I imagine that she’d make the perfect wife. Mine’s been dead so long that I can hardly remember her voice, much less her face.
The evening stretches on with the girls watching some old cowboy movie they’ve found and they laugh at all the commercial breaks (and I have no idea why they find them so funny—have they never seen advertisements before?) while I pretend to read my bible. Really, I’ve been catching every slip of Carly’s skirt as she bends or twists in her half lounging position. From my vantage point, I’ve determined that she’s wearing a strappy sort of underwear that exposes the rounded globes of her ass. And although I wasn’t certain before, I’m now entirely sure that she’s not wearing a bra, because her large breasts have been flopping all over the place and there’s no straps or lines to be seen under her cropped-short shirt. I can see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric, and I know a bit later tonight that I’ll have them in my mouth.
My prick twitches in my pants at the thought. It thrills me to feel the urge again after so long. To desire young flesh and a tight, tender cunt. I don’t really think I’ll fuck such a slutty girl though (because who knows where she’s been?) but her pretty mouth will certainly do . . . once my precious granddaughter has fallen asleep.
“Barley,” I whisper sometime later, after Gwendolyn’s first snores reach my ears and her friend seems to be dozing away, too. I snap my fingers just hard enough for the young blonde to hear it, and her heavy-lidded eyes snap open, but go as blank as if a bullet had been shot through her skull. “Take off your top….”
It’ll be safest to stay right where I’m seated and have her perform a little strip-tease, just to ensure my granddaughter is a heavy sleeper. If she awakens, I’ll pretend to be sleeping, and she can be left thinking that her friend is having night terrors or a fit of hysteria.
Carly slowly removes her tight top, and I watch in awe as her heavy breasts are exposed. They bounce with her movements, her pale skin contrasted sharply with her watermelon-pink nipples. I groan softly. It’s been so long since I’ve seen such a lovely creature.
“Slip off your skirt, dear,” I whisper.
Carly rises to her knees and pulls down her tight, white skirt, revealing the black thong that barely covers her youthful pussy. Her wide blue eyes gaze at nothing, and I wonder how many times before those same eyes stared blankly at a ceiling as some lad pounded her senseless.
Likely one time too many. That’s all fine and dandy though, because her pink mouth is the same color as her nipples, and I’m sure she can offer clean and quick pleasure with her wicked tongue instead.
Still, I want to see her play with herself a little, just to be sure that she’s truly not an innocent. Good girls won’t know how to do what I ask of her next.
“Pleasure yourself for me,” I instruct her softly.
Just like I’d thought, one of her hands pulls down her panties as the other finds her clit, instantly rubbing in small circular motions. She knows what she’s doing and has obviously done this a million times before. It makes my dick swell even more to watch her do it—watching those slender, pink tipped fingers bring her the joy that only a husband should be bringing her.
My eyes drift to Gwendolyn’s sleeping face; she’s fallen asleep on top of her sleeping bag with her knee-length dress twisted around her legs. It looks uncomfortable. A strange part of me wants to ask Carly to fix it—or lift it up so that I can see what sort of panties my granddaughter might be wearing. I tear my eyes away from Gwendolyn in horror.
A man like me would never think such sinful things like that!
I refocus my attention on Carly and her treacherous fingers. “Does that feel good? Nod at me if yes.”
She nods slowly, biting her lip. The TV casts her in bright light one moment and dimness the next, giving her an otherworldly, sensual look—like a performer on stage. Her breasts are so large and jiggly, that it looks like this girl was made for sex.
Some girls just are, I reason, knowing that there are sinful women out in this world solely meant to tempt men. Girls like Carly for instance, with their huge knockers and pretty, little pixie faces. Otherwise Godfearing men like me wouldn’t be drawn towards such tomfoolery.
Gwendolyn moans in her sleep, twisting back so that her dress rides up on her slim thighs. The crotch of her white panties becomes exposed, and my attention latches onto the divot of her folds, somehow intoxicated by the fact that my granddaughter is pristine and pure in her choice of underwear, but I’m somehow aroused by the youthful, naiveness of it all.
I snap my gaze back to Carly, ashamed that I’d ever think such thoughts, especially with a young, buxom girl at my disposal that’s not related to me.
“Have you ever sucked a cock, Carly?” I murmur to the blonde who is palming her large breasts for me.
She nods slowly, pinching her nipples and moaning softly.
“Then why don’t you show me some of your talent,” I whisper. “Come pleasure me, dearest….”
I push down my pants, exposing my rigid member to a young woman barely out of girlhood. She crawls towards me obediently, her tits bouncing together seductively and her rounded ass in the air.
“Suck quietly,” I tell her as she pushes her smooth, young face into my lap.
It’s ecstasy as she wraps her pretty lips around my cockhead and suckles, silently working my member deep into her hot, wet mouth. As I’ve aged it’s harder to get off and feel pleasure, but with such a fresh-faced, young girl going to town on me, I instantly feel on edge, my entire body tensing with bliss, especially as she engulfs me to the root.
She’s definitely done this before, I tell myself.
Carly sucks me down deep, humming softly and swallowing around my shaft, while I stare in wide-eyed awe at my granddaughter sleeping soundly. I don’t want to wake my sleeping princess of a granddaughter, but I do seem to like looking at her exposed panties, and I can’t help but think about how tight and wet she must be, just waiting for a husband to delve inside her virgin pussy. It nearly makes me cum, but then I push Carly away, whispering, “Let me suck on your tits, darling.”
I pull the cute blonde into my lap, kissing her bare shoulders and neck sweetly, before honing in on her magnificent breasts. They’re so firm and perky, and so warm and heavy in my hands, that I can’t help but grind my erection into her scantily clad ass, pulling her hips down on me so that her pussy humps against me eagerly.
“Mmm,” I hum as I suck each of her pink nipples into my mouth. “You’re so ripe for the taking….”
She gives a soft, breathy moan, her eyes closing as I nip and mouth at her, and then I freeze as Gwendolyn stirs and whispers, “Huh?”
My heart thunders in my chest as I hold my granddaughter’s friend close to me without moving. We absolutely can’t wake her, because I don’t know how I’d explain this. Somehow that all makes this risky behavior more alluring, and my dick twitches excitedly, dripping all down my shaft and smearing pre-cum all over Carly’s ass as she shifts in my lap.
I gently grind against Carly until my granddaughter rolls to her side away from us, her panties still exposed and covering her bubble butt. My granddaughter’s ass looks so tantalizing and pristine, even covered in white panties, that I can’t help but groan softly as I grip her best friend to me.
What I wouldn’t give to squeeze those rounded buttocks, I think feverishly.
I know that makes me a pervy, old man, but I hardly care as I push Carly back down to kneel before me.
“Suck, darling,” I whisper, “and be quiet about it….”
It’s wonderful how she obeys, the dreidel’s control blanking her mind and making her into my perfect vessel for pleasure. Carly makes soft gluck-glucking sounds as I push deeper and deeper into the bliss of her tight, hot throat and soon I’m cumming deep into the teenaged girl’s mouth, my eyes latched onto Gwendolyn’s perfect ass, my thoughts entirely filled with cumming inside my innocent granddaughter.
I don’t admit that to myself as the golden aftershocks of orgasm set in. I don’t admit that to myself as I push Carly’s eager mouth off of me. I don’t admit that as I tell the young blonde to redress and go back to bed, snapping my fingers and telling her, “Barley!”
There’s a certain peace to the aftereffects of dreidel hypnosis. Carly slumbers without thought, her mouth bitter with my cum, but the girl totally unaware. My granddaughter snuggles closer to the warmth of her friend. And me, satiated and sleepy, my body going boneless in my luxurious easy chair.
I shouldn’t have thought of my granddaughter in such a way, perhaps, but it was completely harmless as I hadn’t acted on it. That’s for tomorrow me to worry about, I reason with myself as I start to doze off, because for now, I feel completely at ease and satisfied. Especially because Gwendolyn’s friend deserved it for dressing like such a hussy.
Carly’s POV
I dream fantastical things, my mind a warm bowl of mush as I pleasure a God with my mouth, senseless. I’ve always found giving blowjobs a turn on, especially when my partner demands absolute obedience from me, fucking my mouth soundly until he ejaculates down my throat. I don’t know why I have these sorts of dreams at Gwendolyn’s granddad’s house—but I do—and when I awaken in the morning my silky, black thong is soaked clean through, and my face burns red in shame.
I’d never want either Grandpa Frank or my best friend, Gwendolyn, to know of my perverted thoughts. They both seem like such innocent, good, Godfearing people, that I would never want to admit to my innermost fantasies and (sometimes) not-so-innocent excursions. I’m no saint, but it’s not like I’ve ever done anything wild—unless fooling around with a dominant boyfriend or two counts.
Somehow, I still have the taste of hot cum in my mouth, and somehow, I still have the sore throat of someone who deepthroated a guy the night before. I chalk it up to my vivid dreams, wishing that we weren’t stuck for the weekend at my best friend’s granddad’s house.
Grandpa Frank looks so peaceful, asleep in his easy chair, and my best friend looks like an angel snoozing beside me. It makes me feel like a freak, with my pussy dripping wet, and my mind a rush of horny thoughts.
What would they think of you? If they knew? my mind whirs unhelpfully.
I slip my fingers into my panties guiltily, playing with my engorged clit, and I stare at Grandpa Frank in his chair, snoozing soundly, as I frig myself towards completion, imagining a strong, older man dominating me, telling me I’m a slut, telling me I’m a good girl, as I pleasure him with my mouth, my big tits, my teen cunt. Climax hits me in dizzying waves, until I’m squirming and holding my breath (so that none of the sleeping people hear me), my legs spasming out and my body trembling.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I wonder, as I finish shaking in total bliss. Am I really that much of a nympho?
I don’t think I am. I’m just a normal, horny eighteen-year-old girl, and I don’t know why I’d jill off to the thought of my best friend’s granddad.
Must just be that time of the month, I console myself, halfway knowing how hormones work. Doesn’t mean anything….
I lift my sticky hand to my face, looking at the silky-strands of girl juice coating my fingers, and then I cringe as Grandpa Frank opens his bleary eyes and winks at me.
Oh-my-fucking-God! my mind screams. Did he SEE me?
He snaps his fingers just as I sit upright, his voice soft as he whispers, “Barley.”
My frantic nervousness disappears in an instant, my mind blanking out, a delicious warmth filling me from head to toe.
“Kiss Gwendolyn awake,” Grandpa Frank tells me soothingly. “If she doesn’t seem into it, apologize—but if she does, finger her just like you fingered yourself.”
I don’t hesitate as a warm, silver coil seems to wrap around my mind, tugging me into action. I snuggle close to my best friend, smelling her spicy-sweet scent as I nuzzle into the black mane of her thick hair, pushing it gently away as I begin to trail my plush lips around the shell of her ear. She hums softly, sleepily stretching as she continues to doze, and she doesn’t push me away as I start to lick and suckle at her neck.
“Mmm,” she sighs, turning a little towards me. “What’s going on?”
“I want you,” I murmur, the silver coil in my mind seeming to know just what to say.
Her brown eyes widen, her body tensing as she awakens fully. “What?”
“Kiss me?”
“My grandpa’s right there!” she hisses quietly. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Please?” I whimper, and then without waiting for an answer, I pull her into a deep, passionate kiss.
If I could think clearly, it would feel totally wrong to take advantage of my virgin, best friend like this. She doesn’t have the experience that I have, since she’s never dated anyone or known how to establish boundaries. I’d also feel guilty for pressuring her, if I could, but I don’t feel anything but heated compulsion, all my thoughts a million miles away, my pussy twinging excitedly as she gives into the kiss, letting me invade her sweet mouth with my tongue.
I push my hand up the skirt of her dress, not even noticing as she huffs into my mouth, or the way she squeezes her slender legs tightly together.
“Please?” I ask again.
“You’re going to wake my grandpa!” she mouths—and I should realize she sounds completely terrified by what’s happening, but I don’t, the silver coil in my mind whispering a threat through my mouth, “Not if you’re quiet and go along with it….”
She whimpers softly, her body still tense even as her thighs open to allow my hand through. I rub at the crotch of her panties, a victorious warmth going through me as she shivers, my fingers swirling around and around the nub of her cloth-covered clit.
“What’s happening?” she tries to ask me again, but I kiss her hard, sucking the breath from her as I push the cotton of her panties aside and slip a finger down the silky-wetness of her slit. “Oh!”
“Shh,” I tell her, “We don’t want to wake him….”
But I know he’s already awake and watching us covertly; I can feel his gaze on us, the silver compulsion in my mind expanding as his arousal heightens, knowing that I’m doing everything right by fingering his unwilling granddaughter.
Gwendolyn starts to breathe harder and harder, her mouth going slack and her eyelids fluttering. She looks like a beautiful goddess as her dark hair falls around her face in a halo, her plush lips swollen and pink, her tanned skin flushing with need. I know that I need to let Grandpa Frank see all he can of her, so I deliberately tug the top of her dress down, exposing one perky breast (since she’d taken her bra off to sleep), and then I lean over to suck her dusky-brown nipple into my mouth, laving it as she bites back a frightened moan.
I gently push a slender finger inside her wet folds, her virgin pussy clamping down around me—so hot, and so very tight—and I start to slowly thrust in and out, the silver compulsion in my mind encouraging, telling me: Keep going, dearest. She loves it….
If I could think clearly, I would realize that she doesn’t really like it, but is tolerating it—but all I know is that it must feel silvery and good, like all the warmth humming inside me, because she’s getting wetter and wetter, my finger slipping in faster and faster as I rub her little clit with my thumb.
“Have you ever had an orgasm before?” the silver compulsion makes me ask. “I wanna make you cum….”
She whimpers as I kiss her again, her body shivering as I press just-right up inside her, hitting her g-spot and making her squeal. Her slender legs spasm out as she shakes violently, and she nearly bites my tongue as she tries not to moan, her body twisting as I finger her to climax.
I hear Grandpa Frank groan softly, the silver compulsion in my mind expanding, thundering all through me as my own pussy clenches spastically, orgasm ripping through me as I complete the task I’ve been given. He shoots hot wads of cum inside his pants just as Gwendolyn and I cum together—my finger being squeezed mercilessly, my empty cunt gripping around nothing.
For a moment, I can hear Gwendolyn whimpering softly, trying to pull away from me, and Grandpa Frank panting like a dog—but then the silver compulsion washes it all away, the world around me going hazy.
“Let’s go back to sleep,” the silver compulsion in my mind whispers through my mouth, even though I’m barely conscious. “Pretend nothing happened….”
I don’t notice Gwendolyn pulling her panties and dress back into place as I go limp beside her, completely satisfied that my mission has been achieved. I don’t notice Grandpa Frank pretend to snore. I don’t notice my best friend squeeze her eyes shut, completely confused and horrified—or that she listens to me, not moving for another hour as she pretends never to have awoken….