The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

MAY 24th

I returned from my run at 9:30. It was a cool day, and I was chockfull of endorphins … a real runner’s buzz. “And how are YOU this wonderful morning, Dawn?” I chirped, bursting into the kitchen through the screen door. I came up behind her, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, and gave her a little peck of a kiss on her left cheek.

“Mr. Torrance!” she exclaimed. Her hand went to her cheek, and she looked down and blushed beet red.

“Sorry,” I answered, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “I feel great! And I do believe that I’m in love with the whole world!” I stuffed the two halves of a bagel into the toaster.

She was quiet for an entire minute. “Sir, I had a wonderful time last night. I want to thank you again for it.”

“Which part of it?” I asked, innocently.

She blushed even more. “For the part of it that I remember,” she said, so softly that I just barely heard it.

“I had a great time, too,” I responded gaily. “Let’s do it again. Soon.” I dug through the refrigerator until I located the cream cheese.

She fidgeted and sipped her coffee. When it became evident that I was not going to say anything else, she coughed gently, seemed to screw up her courage, and asked: “Sir … did you … did you … um … make me do anything last night?”

“Like what?” I asked innocently.

She took a deep breath. “Sir, please! I can’t remember! You put me to sleep, and I can’t remember! Did we … uh … did we …?”

“You told me that you didn’t WANT to remember. You didn’t want to KNOW. Do you remember saying that?”

She stared into her cup. “Yes, sir. I remember that. That’s the LAST thing I remember, though.”

I used the tip of my finger under her chin to lift her eyes to mine. “And I, ever the chivalrous hero, would never deny milady’s wish.” The toaster popped up, and I let go of her and turned away to tend to breakfast. When I finished preparing the bagel, I walked around the bar, facing her, and was suddenly shocked to find her crying. I hastily put down my plate and leaned forward toward her. Her hands were around her cup, and I put mine over hers. “Dawn ….”

“Am I still a virgin, sir?” she whispered.

“Oh, crap!” I muttered before I could stop myself. I took a deep breath and gently squeezed her hands in mine. “Look at me, Dawn.” I waited until she complied. “I would never, ever take advantage of a woman like that. I didn’t do anything to you after you went to sleep. You have my word.”

She looked into my eyes through her tears. “You didn’t?” Then, she floored me by asking: “Why not?”

I let go of her and took a step back. “Uh … because I would never, ever take advantage of a woman like that?” I faltered. When she smiled sadly and looked back down at the cup, I became impatient. “Did you WANT me to take advantage of you?” I asked loudly. “Did you WANT me to take your virginity?”

Her unhappy smile broadened. “I wanted to please you, sir. I wanted to give you what you needed.” She raised her eyes a little and peeked at me before lowering them again. “I know you wanted me. The way you looked at my … at my breasts. The way you stared at me. I thought that when I woke up, I would find that you … that you’d taken me the way you wanted to. But … but I wasn’t sore or anything, and I … I … um … examined myself. And I couldn’t see any … um … evidence. And so … I figured that you didn’t want me after all.”

“Didn’t want you?”

“I can understand why, sir. I’m fat, and I’m ugly, and ….”

“You are NOT fat! And you are NOT ugly! And I DO find you … uh … desirable!” I took a breath, but kept the volume up. “And I DO find this conversation to be decidedly weird!”

I picked up my plate and cup and I strode out of the room. I sat down at the dining room table and absently turned on the laptop computer there, scanning the news headlines without really seeing them.

After a few minutes, she was standing beside me. “I’m going to walk into town now, sir. Would you like me to get anything for you?”

She’d caught me off guard. “Uh … not that I can think of, thanks. Why are you going?”

She gave me a shy smile. “You know.”

I blinked. “I do?”

The smile broadened. She regarded me calmly for awhile. “Yes, sir. I KNOW when a suggestion had been implanted in my subconscious. I do it to myself all the time. I go to sleep at night thinking of my crystal, and while I begin to fade away, I give myself suggestions … things that I need to do the next day. And then later, as I start to do those things, I know that I’m acting on the urge created by a posthypnotic suggestion. I can feel it. And so … I KNOW you told me last night that I’d feel this way … and that I’d do what I’m about to do. I KNOW that it’s because you put it into my head. And I won’t resist. I really, really don’t WANT to resist.” Her eyes shifted, as if she had just thought of something important. “Or is the urge not to resist just another implanted suggestion?” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Goodbye, sir. See you in awhile.”

And she turned and walked out of the house.

I wandered into the village myself an hour later, but I never saw her. There were a lot of tourists milling about, and the place was bustling. The fishing boats were coming in, and I bought a nice rockfish, which I had them filet. There’s only one grocery store in town, but I found a couple bottles of Pinot Grigio, some small baking potatoes and a quart of early blueberries that I figured would be good with shortcakes. She wasn’t at home when I returned, and I had no excuse not to mow the lawn.

It was much later when, sitting on the front porch swing and reading a volume of Fredric Brown’s science fiction short stories, I saw her striding jauntily down the sidewalk with a large shopping bag hanging from each hand. The transformation was astounding. She wore a pair of three-inch heels below a pair of black pleated slacks. The blue silk blouse was low cut, and it showed an abundant amount of cleavage caused by an underwire bra under extreme tension. Someone professional had applied scant touches of makeup to her face that muted rather than highlighted. But it was her hair that made my mouth fall open in surprise. Full, thick, long and straight, it reached to the small of her back; and it was so deeply, glossy black that it seemed to have an almost purplish brilliance.

I found myself standing as she climbed the steps up to the porch. “May I sit down, sir?” she chirped, smiling.

“My God, Dawn!” I took the bags from her and set them down along the wall of the house, then I took both of her hands in mine and held them out apart so I could rake her body with my eyes. She laughed and blushed, but didn’t protest as I let go with one hand and spun her around so I could examine her from all angles. I motioned for her to sit on the porch swing, then joined her, sitting close.

“I was SO lucky that they had a cancellation at the beauty parlor on a Saturday,” she said. She stiffened for a moment as I put my arm along the back of the swing, but then she settled into me and sighed. We didn’t say anything for a long time. “Would you believe that I’ve only been to a beauty parlor once before in my whole life?” she asked me. “My senior prom.” She sighed. “Well, not MY senior prom, actually.”

“Not yours?”

“I graduated after the tenth grade. But all of us ‘non-in-crowd’ girls got together and went En Masse that year, sort of as a show of defiance. The ‘ins’ were absolutely horrified.”

I closed my eyes. “Be quiet for a moment … let me see if I can imagine you being defiant.”

She laughed. “Are you going to take me out again tonight, sir?”

“No. I’m making you dinner here. I’m not going to share you with anyone.”

We were silent awhile. “Are you going to hypnotize me again tonight, sir?”

“Oh, yes,” I answered.

She waited another thirty seconds before asking: “And are you going to take me … sexually tonight, sir?”

“Yes,” is said immediately. “Not necessarily in that order, though.”

She reached up and put her palm on my chest, then leaned in and snuggled the side of her face into my shoulder. “I’m really nervous. But I knew it was coming. You programmed me to accept it.”

I let the arm along the back of the swing fall, and I began idly running my fingers through her hair. “I didn’t program you, Dawn.”

I felt her shrug. “You suggested it, then. You made the hypnotic suggestion; and now, I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve been obsessed with the idea all day; the idea of surrendering to you, of pleasing you.”

We sat like that, swinging gently, for a long time. Eventually, I got up and went inside to put the potatoes in the oven to bake before returning with two glasses of wine. We talked about trivialities, but we sat like lovers sit, close, touching. Dusk was falling and I refilled our glasses, and the evening stretched on, calm yet electric with the underlying anticipation of sex. We finally went in, and she set two places at the table, close together, while I fired up the grill in the back yard for the fish. I popped the cork on the second bottle.

Halfway through the meal, she leaned toward me unsteadily and confided: “Do you want to know something about pushup underwire bras?” She let the question hang for a second. “Too much support hurts.”

I stood and held out my hand to her for several seconds before she finally understood my meaning, took it and allowed me to help her to her feet. Slowly, slowly, I unbuttoned her blouse. “Don’t you want to finish dinner first, sir?” she asked quietly. I didn’t answer, but concluded my task, slipped the garment off her shoulders and draped it across the back of her chair. She shuddered and took a deep breath as I turned her so that I could release the clasp of the bra. When it was off, she started to turn toward me, but I stopped her, and instead held the blouse so that she could put it back on. She giggled when she realized what I had in mind, and slipped her arms through it. She started to button it back up, but I told her to leave it that way, so she sat again. “You’ve already seen my breasts, sir,” she commented.

“Only the left,” I said sadly. “I never did get a good look at the right one.”

She giggled again and moved the fabric so that her right breast was bare for a moment before re-covering it. I had no idea what her measurements were, but I suddenly realized that it wasn’t possible for natural breasts that size to exist without sagging. Every time she moved, even a small amount, they swung gently, bounced and jiggled. With her blouse unbuttoned like it was, I could constantly see the inner sides of both smooth, fleshy globes. Within seconds, her nipples became turgid and engorged, and they seemed to strain out against the silk fabric as if they longed to come out and play.

I continued eating, but she only picked at her food now. “Are you okay, Dawn?”

She nodded, but a few seconds later, a tear emerged from her right eye, and she shook her head miserably. “I … I sort of lied to you, sir.” I didn’t comment, and finally, she put down her fork and stared up at me pleadingly. “I’m NOT a virgin.” She looked down at her hands in her lap.

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

She sighed. “No, sir.” She sniffed a couple times. “Of course, you could MAKE me tell you, if you wanted.”

She didn’t see my hesitant grin. “I think that what you’re trying to say is that you WANT me to make you tell me.” I kept my voice tender.

She kept her eyes lowered. “I … I did it with my hairbrush.”

I blinked and tried to take in the implications of that. “You what!?”

“With the handle of my hairbrush. I did it a couple months ago. I was going through … um … a rather rough period in my life.”

“I’m very sorry. It … it must have hurt you.”

“That’s what I wanted at the time,” she replied sadly. “To see blood. To feel pain.” She paused dejectedly. “I … I was really fucked up, sir.”

It’s the first time I’d ever heard her use harsh language. I reached out and took her hand in mine, and she looked down and studied them ... our two hands ... seemingly mesmerized by the sight. “How fucked up were you, Dawn?”

She shrugged. I got the weird impression she was talking to our hands rather than to me. “Oh ... pretty fucked up. And ... at the moment, I was drunk ... and high. All of a suddenly, I decided that I didn’t want to die a virgin. I had just swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills, you see. I woke up the next day in a pool of my own vomit. How pathetic is THAT!?”

“Why did you do that? Why did you try to kill yourself?”

She sighed heavily and continued to speak to the hands. “I read a dozen books on psychology at the library after I tried it. I’d never really been interested in psychology. If you believe all that stuff, I imagine you’d tell me that I was depressed because it was the first time in my life that I was without any kind of structure ... I had no one to give me directions.”

“You didn’t have a Sir.”

“I didn’t have a Sir,” she repeated quietly. She suddenly seemed to realize something and looked up at me sharply. “But you mustn’t think that I would do something like that now. When YOU send me away, I promise you that I will never consider that again.”

“Send you away?”

“I know you will, eventually. I expect that, and I accept it. I’ll be okay. I even have a job waiting for me, back in California. But … I’ve never met anyone like you, sir. The last few days have been like a dream; helping you, being with you, having you guide me .…” Her whole body shivered. “… Having you hypnotize me.” She picked up her wine glass and found it empty. “I think maybe I’ve had too much to drink.”

I really wanted to change the subject. “Dawn, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” She looked up and tried to focus, her eyes startled and serious. “I ….” I picked up her hand and continued gravely: “I … don’t think I can keep my hands off of your breasts any longer. Your nipples are driving me crazy.”

She’d been about to cry, and her laughter was broken with wet sniffles. “They’re driving ME crazy, too, sir! The silk blouse is scraping against them almost constantly! They feel like they’re made out of rocks!”

I stood and helped her to her feet again, then turned her away from me and slipped the blouse off her shoulders. “Rocks just won’t do, I’m afraid,” I told her flatly. “I don’t think I’d like sucking on rocks.” She giggled again and allowed me to turn her toward me. And before she was really ready, I kissed her hard.

She gave a surprised little “Mmff!” and staggered into me clumsily, her hands going to my arms, then dropping to her sides, and finally coming back up and snaking around my neck. Her breasts flattened against my lower chest, she gave a muffled moan, and she seemed to melt into me. Slowly, she began undulating her belly and groin against mine. She jerked slightly in surprise as I began exploring her lips with my tongue, then she hesitantly parted them and allowed me access to her mouth, responding with tentative forays with her own, caressing the intruder with hers. Her knees sagged for a moment, and when I finally broke my grip on her, she sighed heavily and hung from me, supporting herself by grasping my shoulders. She buried her face into my chest and kept rubbing herself against me slowly, sinuously.

“No one has ever kissed me like that,” she wheezed, her chest heaving against my own. “OH! Oh, gosh, sir!” I had begun kissing my way down her body, pecking, licking, nibbling on her neck. “I’m on the pill,” she said, and then moaned as I paid oral attention to the dimple between her neck and her collar bone. “I started taking them the first day I came to work for you, in case you ... you should ever ... want me like this. But ... but ....” She gasped as I nuzzled her neck. “But you’ll have to tell me what to do, sir,” she panted. “I need to please you. I HAVE to please you! But I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been with a man like this before, and I .... OH!”

I’d made my way to her breast, and I sucked one of those magnificent nipples into my voracious mouth. It was an inch in diameter, and it had the feel of hard rubber. I suck-suck-sucked on it rapidly, then held it between my teeth and flicked it savagely with my tongue. My arms were around her waist, and she bent back against them while putting her hands behind my neck and head and pulling my face into the suffocating softness of her pillowy left breast while an intense shiver racked her body. I pushed away from her, kissed her softly on the lips, took her hand and led her up the stairs toward my bedroom. I found myself seriously contemplating picking her up and carrying her ... a modern Rhett Butler ... but she was too heavy for me to do that delicately. Still, she followed meekly behind me, obviously willing to do anything I told her, and that was enticing enough for me. I paused halfway up the stairs and adjusted my erection before continuing.

When I got her to the side of my bed, I positioned her so that I could gently push her down into a sitting position at one side. “Will you let me take you, Dawn? Will you let me do what I want with you?”

She nodded so vigorously that her hair flew all about her head. I leaned forward and kissed her very gently while I reached down and urged her knees apart with one hand. She complied immediately, and I inched forward between her spread legs until my knees were pressing into the edge of the mattress. I eased her onto her back, maintaining the kiss, so that she lay flat with her lower legs hanging over the edge; and then I began kissing my way down her body. Again, she was caught in a paroxysm of shivers when I started paying special homage to her nipples; and her lower body began straining upward against my crotch and upper legs. She groaned loudly, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.

Leisurely, I slid off the edge of the bed until I was on my knees, kissing and licking her lower chest and her stomach, while I worked with the catch on her pants and pulled down her zipper. Finally, I kissed my way to the tops of her cotton panties, and she popped into a sitting position, crying out as she understood what I was about to do; but she must have remembered her promise to “let me have my way,” because with a resigned groan, she plopped onto her back again and ground herself up into my licking mouth. I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her slacks and panties and backed up a little so that she could bring her knees together and raise her bottom as I peeled them off, eventually taking the shoes with them. She wore no hosiery, and now she was completely nude. Then, I moved back in and ran my tongue up the length of her wildly secreting valley until I had made my way to her clitoris, where I slathered my attention for a few seconds, and made my way down until I could sink it deeply up and into her. After lingering there awhile, I made the trip back up to her clit again.

She exploded in orgasm, surprising me with how quickly she had reached her peak, and her hips lurched upward, her stomach muscles tightening, her vaginal cavity gapping open, clenching shut, then opening again. She made unintelligible grunting sounds that slowly subsided into a low, almost humming noise, and she jerked as I gave her another few lazy licks before I crawled up until my face was even with hers. I kissed her lightly, then again ... and again. When I probed gently with my tongue, she knew right away what I wanted, and she opened her mouth to accept me, but froze momentarily as she detected the difference this time. She broke away, her hands gripping my shoulders, and she gazed into my eyes.

“Oh, Gosh! That’s me, isn’t it? That’s what I taste like!” She took in my patient smile. “Oh, sir ... I just want to please you! I only want to please you! But everything you’re doing is new. I don’t understand what’s happening. Help me, please! Tell me what you want!”

I laughed at her earnestness and she lowered her eyes and blushed. “I want you to undress me,” I told her gently. “I want you to touch me the way you did the other night.” She seemed startled that I’d said this, but she immediately began unbuttoning my shirt, fidgeting with my belt. “Did you think I’d forgotten?” I asked her.

“After you … gushed … and fell asleep, I told you that you’d remember it as an erotic dream,” she said, working my trousers down past my hips. She became flustered when she couldn’t get the pants past my shoes, so she had to shift her priorities. She snuck a peek up at me as she worked. “But you knew, of course. You are so strong. Much stronger than me. I bet you could make me believe anything … or forget anything. Anything at all. But you remembered it … you’ve known all along, haven’t you?”

“Touch me again,” I ordered, lying on my back, my erection pointing mightily skyward. She grasped it without hesitation, then bent forward and kissed it. I allowed a deep moan to escape my throat as she slowly sucked me into her hot mouth. She applied a great deal of suction and kept her teeth well out of the way, bobbing her head up and down. My wife had always refused me this little pastime, so I actually had very little familiarity with it ... but in my limited experience, this was perfect. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you? You’ve done this to another man.”

She jerked her head up and stared at me, tears suddenly springing to her eyes. “Y ... you ... you made me tell you, didn’t you, sir? When you hypnotized me ... you made me tell you about him. I have no secrets from you, do I, sir? You know everything about me.” She issued a shuddering sob. “Please, sir. Please don’t make me talk about him now. Everything is so ... perfect. The way you’re controlling me ... guiding me ... the way you’re making me feel. Please don’t spoil it. Please don’t make me talk about ... him!” She spat out the last word as if it was a piece of rotten food.

“Come here, Dawn,” I told her quietly. She cocked her head and looked at me quizzically. “Come here ... into my arms.” She scooted herself up until our faces were even, and I grasped her wrists and guided them around my neck. I kissed her gently, but when she pressed her lips into mine, seeking more urgency, I drew back before kissing her lightly again. For the next several minutes, I kept it very tender ... very intimate. I stroked her back and sides, the top of her butt.

Her breathing deepened, her breasts straining into me. “Please, sir. Please take me. You’re driving me crazy, sir.”

“There will be no wild, animalistic sex tonight, Dawn. I just need to make love. I need it so badly. It’s been so long since I’ve really made love.”

She backed away until her eyes could focus on mine. “I’ll do anything for you, sir. Anything. But I’ve never done this. Please tell me what you want.”

“Touch me again.” One of her hands came away from my neck and back down to my straining hard-on, and she began pumping me slowly. I kissed her again, and I was surprised to find that the fingers of her other hand were now in my hair at the back of my head. She gasped into my mouth as I began tweaking her left nipple. “A bit sensitive, are they?” I asked, keeping my lips in contact with hers.

“Y ... yes, sir.” I dropped my hand between her legs again and began rubbing the top of her cleft. Her clitoris was enlarged and hard. “OH! Oh, sir! Sir, NO!”

Her eyes were wide, and I looked into them sternly. “What will you do for me, Dawn? Will you do anything I ask?” (This was all new to me. I’d never played the part of the assertive master in bed before, and I was making this up as I went along.)

“But ... but ... OH! Oh, sir! I’ve already .... You’ve already made me .... OH!”

“Will you do anything I want you to, Dawn?” I repeated.

She gulped. She was panting hard and fast. “Y ... yes, sir. OH! Yes, sir. Anything, sir!”

“Then relax,” I ordered, whispering the command directly into her ear. Her body tensed and shook. Hmmm … I’d just discovered that her ears were an erogenous zone. “Relax and let it take you. Let me have my way with you.” I felt her shoulders slump a little; my arm on her tummy felt the muscles there relax, then clench, then relax again. “I can make your body do everything I want it to,” I breathed into her ear again. “I know just where to touch it ... just what to do. I can make you do ... anything.”

On that word, she launched into another totally consuming orgasm, and I clenched my teeth as the fingers of one of her hands squeezed my rock-hard penis like a vise while those of her other hand gripped my hair. Her body strained up off the bed ... slammed back down and rose yet again, tension in every part of her. After I thought she might rip my hair out by the roots, I stopped rubbing her and she collapsed, limp, eyes closed, unmoving except for her heaving chest.

I rolled atop her, fitting neatly between her widely spread thighs. I lowered my lips to her ear again and whispered. “Now, Dawn. Guide me into you. Do it now.” Her eyes flickered open and she grasped me, leading me toward the target, gasping audibly as she inadvertently scraped the tip across her still-engorged and overly-sensitive clit before pulling it into herself. “Your body is just the way I want it,” I continued. “Wet and relaxed and open and ready. This is the way I want it, Dawn. This is the way I want you for the first time.”

I pushed down and down and down. There was no resistance at all. She was very tight, but oily-slick, and in ten seconds, I was buried to the hilt. She threw her head back and moaned. “So full,” she groaned. “So deeeeep! OH, SSIIIIRRRR!”

I knew right away that I wasn’t going to last long. It had been almost half a year since I’d been with Rita ... or any woman, and this was one hell of a lot more than a dreamy hand job. She was superbly slick, and as if her vagina wasn’t tight enough already, her inner muscles began flexing, as if trying to examine this monstrous new invader through feel. By sheer force of will, I began moving my body in slow, sensuous, purposeful thrusts into her. After four or five of these, she began meeting me with lunges of her own, arching her back and rising toward me, matching my cadence. I wanted to be tender this first time with her, and I gently tried to draw my head back until I could kiss her again, but she refused to relax her arms around my neck.

“I ... I can’t ... I can’t hold out very ... long, Dawn,” I groaned. “I ... I’m going to ... going to ....”

“Oh, gosh, sir!” she moaned in my ear. “Oh! You’re swelling, sir! You’re getting even bigger! Fill me, sir! Please fill me up!”

I froze as I came, then couldn’t help pounding her for several more strokes, then freezing again. I felt her squeezing me with her inner muscles. “More, sir. Please give me more.” She brought one of her arms down and pressed my butt with the palm of her hand, holding me inside her. “Once more. Let me feel you give me just a little more.” I strained into her, shuddering one last time.

I remained embedded in her for a long while, until I finally shrank and slipped out of her. “Oh, gosh, sir. I’m dripping. I’m going to make a puddle on the sheets.”

“You seemed to be able to change the sheets without waking me up the other night,” I chided. “You can’t change them while you’re in the bed yourself?”

She giggled while I rose and went into the bathroom for a towel. Then I went down the hall to her bedroom and took the necklace from her dresser before returning to her. She saw it in my hand, and her smile faded for a moment before returning. “It’s all happening so fast, sir. Taking my mind ... taking my body. You made me want this SO much! You made me ... made me want YOU so much!” I held the crystal in front of her eager eyes. “... Made me love you so much,” she droned sleepily.

And in only a few more seconds, she was under.

MAY 25th

I woke up twice during the night: once to discover her snuggled in my arms, one of her legs thrown over mine; and once to find that I’d nestled into her back side, my left arm draped across her body, under her arm, my hand filled with the spongy softness of one breast. But now, with the sunlight streaming in past the small gaps at the sides of the window blinds, I found her head on my chest; and while I couldn’t see beyond her thick hair, I knew instinctively that I was being stroked erotically by insistent fingers. “And good morning to YOU, Dawn,” I groaned.

“You get hard when you sleep, sir.”

“Sleeping next to a nude girl will do that to a man.”

She sighed. “Everything is so new .... So ... perfect.” She stroked me a few times and giggled as I moaned.

“Are you sore?” I asked her. “If you keep doing that to me, you know that I’ll have to take you again.”

“That would be ... wonderful, sir.” She abandoned my shaft and began tactilely investigating my testicles.

“Get on top of me, Dawn. Do it now.” I hoped that I sounded masterful enough to satisfy her obvious feelings of submissiveness. I guess I succeeded, because after a few moments’ hesitation, she rolled atop me, straddling me.

“Like this, sir?”

I pushed her upright and massaged her breasts for awhile, then reached up, put my hand behind her neck and pulled her down for a long, leisurely kiss before pushing her back up again. I petted, squeezed and stroked her here and there, tweaking her large nipples and finally rubbing her slit and clitoris. She collapsed back into me when I did this, but I again positioned her just the way I wanted; and I finally used my knees and thighs to raised her body up while I maneuvered my prick into her. She sank downward, filling herself with me, throwing her head back and groaning loudly. Soon she understood, and she began rising and falling while I took advantage of the easy access to all the places I wanted to touch. It didn’t take long. I’d rubbed her clit for about a minute when she came, her inner muscles clutching my shaft hard, rhythmically; milking me; and I joined her in ecstasy.

This time, when she collapsed atop me, I just held her, and the only movement was our heaving chests and my cock, which still twitched inside her every now and then. I felt a warm wetness on my neck and shoulders.

“Are you crying?” I asked, concerned. “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”

“You’ve made me love you, sir,” she explained, keeping her face out of my view. “I know that this feeling is the result of a hypnotic suggestion, but that doesn’t matter. It’s true, nonetheless. I am really, really in love. And I know that ... that I’ll lose you soon ... that you’ll send me away. You will take all that I have, and you’ll discard me.” She shrugged. “That’s just the way my life is. But ... but this time, sir ... this time, it’s worth it. Oh, God, I’m happy! Thank you, sir!”

I tried not to show the utter confusion I felt. She was a big girl, but she had the security and sensitivities of an immature ten-year-old. I’d always regarded her as a bit ... off-center; but now, for the first time, I began to question her sanity. Something had happened to this woman. Something had shredded her confidence and left her utterly dependent on those near her. But no, that wasn’t true, either. I had seen her act assertive and normal around others ... just not around ME. Perhaps I could be a little more logical later ... when she wasn’t crying ... or nude ... or had her vagina wrapped around my deflating cock. I sighed. Later. I’d figure all this out later.

We were silent for a long, long time before I rolled us onto our sides. “Shower,” I told her. “Now.”

She smiled happily and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Yes, sir.”

We showered together; and I took great pleasure in cleansing her huge breasts more than once; and she giggled and sighed; and she moaned on occasion, when my soapy hands wandered lower. But eventually I deemed myself sufficiently hygienic, and I left her so as to pursue duties in the kitchen. There I decided to attempt a coffee cake from scratch in honor of Sunday breakfast, and I was in the process of measuring the cinnamon for the crumb topping when she finally made her appearance. She was wearing one of my dress shirts, the long sleeves rolled up just above her wrists, the top three buttons free, the collar gapping open to show the tops of her creamy, jiggling mounds. The shirt tail hit her midway between knees and crotch, and it was very evident that she wore no panties underneath.

She blushed demurely and turned around for me. “I hope you don’t mind, sir. I thought that maybe ... you’d want me to wear something that ... um ... could be easily removed.”

I smiled approvingly. “You were in there an awfully long time. Were you just picking which of my shirts to wear?”

She blushed even more. “You know what I was doing, sir. I was doing what ... what you wanted me to do; what you ... suggested I should do.”

I studied her intently. “The suggestion that I hypnotically implanted in you,” I said.

“Yes, sir.”

I nodded. “The coffee cake will be done in twenty minutes,” I told her. “Go out and get the Sunday newspaper for me please.”

She looked startled. “Like ... like this?” She looked down at herself, her fingers going to the third open button on the shirt.

“Exactly like that, Dawn.”

She left the button undone, stood for a long time, contemplating my demand, and then she finally turned and walked to the front door. I gave her a few second before drifting in the direction of the big front bay window, and I watched as she strode steadily down the front walk to the spot the paperboy had flung the newspaper. She kept her body vertical, bending her knees to get the thing, and then she turned and started back toward the house before skidding to a sudden stop. She faced to her left (my right) and gave a little wave to someone I couldn’t see, bringing her hand only shoulder-high, so that the hem of the shirt didn’t ride up any more than it already was. She was speaking, but I couldn’t hear her words; and then she waved again and continued into the house.

When she’d gotten inside and saw me, she couldn’t help dropping the paper and running into my arms, her hands going around my neck. “Oh, sir! Someone saw me! The lady next door saw me!”

“Mrs. Wagner? My, my. She’s one of the biggest gossips in town. What did she say?”

“She just smiled and said good morning. She asked me how I was. Do you think ... do you think ... um ...?”

With her arms around my neck, the hem of the shirt was pulled up almost to her waist, and I let my hands wander over her bare posterior. “What do YOU think, Dawn?”

She shuddered. “Everybody’s going to know, sir! Everyone in town is going to know!”

“Know what, Dawn?”

“They’re going to know that we ... um ... that we’re doing it. Having sex. They’re going to know that I’m in love with you, sir ... that I’m giving myself to you.”

I pushed her back until we were slightly apart, and then I hooked a finger under her pert chin and lifted her face to mine. “I detest secrets,” I told her softly. And I kissed her. She melted into me, parted her lips and sparred with my tongue for awhile before becoming more animated. She reached for my thickening cock. “Later,” I told her firmly, almost moaning. “The old battery has to recharge.”

She seemed disappointed, but (of course) followed my orders and backed away from me. We worked together in the kitchen for awhile, making the coffee and cutting up some fruit. I found yet another limit to my control over her when she refused to eat more than a small sliver of the cake, choosing fruit instead. She claimed that she had been on a diet “her entire life,” and that she now had to make penance for the big dinners I had forced on her the preceding two evenings, which had resulted in a three-pound weight gain.

After breakfast, I took her into the living room, where I insisted she remove the shirt and sit nude next to me while we did the New York Times crossword puzzle together. This was my first opportunity to see the result of my “hypnotic suggestion,” which had obviously been that she shave off all of her pubic hair. That made it sort of difficult for me to concentrate on the puzzle; but another surprise awaited me: she was remarkably bright. More than bright. She swore that she’d never done the Times puzzle before ... that she’d only done a few crosswords ever ... but she seemed to know almost everything. She very quickly got wrapped up in doing the thing, and she often actually clapped her hands when she figured out a group of words, much the same as my daughter would do when she was overly excited.

When it was done, I announced that she had earned a reward; and she gave a giggling shriek as I threw her back onto the cushions of the couch and buried my face in her denuded pussy, where I licked her until she screamed in erotic release. I then forced her to stand and bend over the arm of the sofa, and I took her from behind. This was the first time I’d taken her hard, slamming into her over and over, my thighs slapping loudly against her buttocks, while my hands roamed freely over her back and sides, to her breasts and nipples, down to her clit ... everywhere. I found that I could last longer this time, and it went on for awhile. She came once more before I emptied myself into her eager body.

We fell asleep on the couch afterward, and she felt very good to me, wrapped in my arms the way she was. It was dark when we finally arose, and I pan fried some leftover chicken to mix into a salad for dinner.

During the meal, I ordered her to tell me about the first lucky guy who had gotten a blow job from her; but while she talked a lot about it, she didn’t really TELL me much. She had only referred to him as “Sir,” and he had evidently been some sort of personal advisor in college. He had a wife, Dawn told me, as well as at least one lover ... another student. But, while ALL of her professors (and high school teachers before them) were authority figures, this was the first time she had been assigned solely to one person … to one man. And eventually, they both discovered something startling: There was absolutely nothing that she wouldn’t do for him.

For her, the revelation was deeply personal ... she thought she was in love (though now, she told me, she knew that she hadn’t been. The feelings that she’d had for him were nothing like the ones she had for me now). But for him, the epiphany was something entirely different. For he realized that not only was there nothing she wouldn’t do ... there was seemingly nothing she couldn’t do. (“I’ve always been a pretty good problem-solver,” she told me.) He had wanted something built for him ... something in the laboratory; which, after a period of months, she had produced for him. As soon as he had this thing, his need for her was over; and he sent her away, telling her that he not only didn’t love her ... he couldn’t really stand the sight of her. She was fat. She was ugly. He didn’t want her anywhere near him. She had left the school ... and the state ... shortly thereafter.

The oral sex had been demanded earlier in this scenario when he was having some sort of trouble with his student girlfriend. According to him, he was angry when he found out that this girl had only been using him for purposes of scientific advancement (just as he had evidently been using Dawn). Lots of that going around in the wonderful world of academia, I guess. For her, the fellatio had just been another assignment. He ordered her to do it, and so she had. Dawn hadn’t liked it ... and she got the distinct feeling that he hadn’t enjoyed it all that much, either. But he had forced her to do it again the next night. And the next. She didn’t know why it had ended, and she didn’t question it. She knew that there had been no romance involved … for he had never kissed her, had never held her, had rarely even touched her.

All of this was related to me dry-eyed and sort of matter-of-factly, ending with a resigned shrug of her shoulders. She refused to tell me anything else, saying simply that nothing else really mattered. I hadn’t found out what this “thing” was that she had developed, how she had done it or what it was for. But she suddenly looked very tired and very sad. I had allowed her to put my shirt back on for dinner, but I commanded her to remove it now, and I led her to bed, where we lay down and I held her close to me. We talked about the upcoming week: Tina would be back tomorrow and stay with us through Thursday now; but Rita would keep her again the following weekend while I was away on a scheduled business trip. I lost track of the conversation after that because Dawn began stroking my cock.

We made love tenderly. But, before I could fall asleep afterward, she begged me to hypnotize her. I sighed and reached for the necklace, which had now taken up residence on my bedside table. She stared at it for long seconds ... and then she sighed, closed her eyes, and surrendered her mind to me once more.

May 26th

It was a government holiday, but I had two important calls with overseas clients. I emerged from my office about noon to find Dawn gone, a note telling me that she’d gone shopping for groceries in town. When she finally returned about one o’clock, she ducked my kiss, dropped a bag of groceries on the counter and ran for the bathroom, where she stayed for the next three quarters of an hour. When she finally emerged from that sanctum, she was wearing a short teddy nightgown, the very picture of meek supplication, and she came to me and put her arms around me.

“What were you doing in there?” I demanded. “You were in there a long time. Are you okay?”

She blushed. “I was getting ready for you. You know what I was doing.”

“I do?”

She buried her face into my chest. “Of course you do. It was your idea. You planted these wicked thoughts in my head. I dreamed about it last night. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I got up.”

I stroked my fingers through her hair. “Ah,” I said, knowingly. “So ... tell me ... how much do you know about ... doing it that way.”

She shivered. “I ... I ... um ... got curious and looked it up on the internet. There were LOTS of porn sites about it, of course. But, I looked around some of the ... uh ... sexual advice websites, just to see what they said about it.”

I found myself getting hard, and I shifted slightly, rubbing against her. “And what did you find out?”

“I know it’s going to hurt,” she replied softly. “I’m ready for that. I think it’s ... the ultimate surrender. Don’t you?” I was silent for a long time. “I know it’s going to feel wonderful for you,” she continued. “I know it’s going to be really, really tight. But I can’t imagine what it’s going to feel like for me.”

I nodded slowly. “So ... uh ... what were you doing to get yourself ready? In the bathroom, I mean.”

She shivered again ... a little more violently this time. “Cleaning myself for you ... inside.”

I cleared my throat. “An enema?”

This shiver was accompanied with a small moan. “Yes, sir. The website said it would be more ... um ... pleasant for you if I was clean there.” Seemingly from nowhere, she produced a small bottle of feminine lubricant and gave it to me. “I got this at the pharmacy. I was SO embarrassed when I bought it. I know I was blushing. Do you think the guy at the checkout counter knew why I wanted it?”

I laughed and took the bottle, then I took her hand and led her toward the stairs and the bedroom. “There is a distinct possibility of that,” I told her.

By the bed, I kissed her tenderly, then more urgently. We stripped our garments off, and she followed my instructions exactly (never guessing that I had no clue what I was doing) as I stacked several pillows in the center of the bed and bent her over them, her generous ass pointing upward and ready. I thought hard about it and guessed that the absolute worst that could happen if I used too much of the lubricant would be a small mess on the bed. Pitted against the possibility of causing her undo pain, I decided that the risk of puddles was well worth it. She moaned and groaned as I dribbled the liquid over her rump, and ran slippery hands into the crack of her ass and underneath, paying special attention to her vagina and clitoris. I guess I went a little too far with the “slow” routine, because she began begging me “please, sir, just fuck me there!” And, when I finally pressed my index finger inside her anus, she pushed herself back almost violently, impaling herself. I refused to let her have her way, though, and by the time I had finally pushed two fingers into her while rubbing her pussy with my other hand, she had such a violent orgasm that she passed out for a minute or two.

I worked my cock into her slowly while she was still a little groggy. Good Lord, she was tight! By the time I was fully embedded inside her, though, she was up on her knees and slamming herself back toward me with every one of my thrusts. When she came again, she collapsed forward, and her ass gripped me so tightly it was almost painful. I erupted into her colon, and we both screamed out our passion simultaneously. I hadn’t been expecting such ... intensity. I tried to pull out of her unhurriedly, and I finally succeeded, though she attempted to “follow” upward with her ass, endeavoring to keep me inside. I pulled her into my arms, and we snuggled together, mumbling little exclamations, dozing off finally.

She shook me gently. “We need to get up, sir. Tina will be home in an hour. I need to start dinner.”

I showered with her again, then helped her strip off the sheets and put them in the washer. She put on fresh ones, dressed and began fixing the meal. Three times, I came to her and put my arms around her; and each time, she turned in my arms, kissed me and told me she loved me. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to return the endearment yet. I desperately needed to figure the girl out.

We heard the car in the driveway and were ready for the whirlwind of little Tina. Dawn was on her knees, listening intently to the munchkin as she explained the multitudinous adventures that had encompassed the weekend, the discussion interspersed with crushing hugs from tiny arms. Rita and I waited patiently for the ritual to wind down and the little one ran off to the playroom to revisit her favorite dolls.

“Did the two of you have fun this weekend?” my ex asked with an air of faux innocence.

Dawn didn’t give even a hint of a blush. “Yes. Thanks for asking.”

My former wife cocked her head slightly and regarded the babysitter. “You and I are a lot alike, Dawn.”

The younger woman sighed. “Please, Rita. Believe me when I tell you that I have no animosity for you whatsoever. But, we’re not alike at all.”

Rita smiled, dug around in her purse for a moment, and handed something to Dawn.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a picture of me … something to remember me by.” And without another word, my ex opened the door and left.

Dawn gasped loudly. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to take her eyes off the photo in her hands. I strode over to her and glanced at it, recognizing it immediately. It had been taken during our honeymoon, on a beach in the Bahamas. She opened her mouth to make a comment, closed it again, and finally muttered: “She ... she’s ... she’s ....”

“Fat?” I ventured.

Dawn finally looked up at me. “Overweight.”

“Overweight. Yes.”

She looked back down at the picture. “How much weight has she lost?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied honestly. “Her goal was ninety pounds, and it took her five years … but she kept losing after that, I think. I was the one that got her going on the diet. We did it together. I lost twenty pounds myself, then worked hard to keep it off.” I patted my midriff. “... until recently. We exercised together, too. I got her hooked on running, eventually.”

She kept staring. “She’s so beautiful now.”

“Funny thing about that,” I told her thoughtfully. “She changed all over. As she changed outside, she changed inside, too. Eventually, the woman I fell in love with wasn’t there anymore.”

And I turned and walked into the kitchen.

Tina insisted on having her babysitter put her to bed that night. Dawn came to me afterward and inquired meekly where I wanted her to spend the night, but she knew what my answer would be before she asked the question. We made love tenderly in my bed, and when it was time to go to sleep, her necklace was sitting ready on my bedside table.

May 27th

I felt her body give a little jerk in my arms and it woke me up. I couldn’t see past the back of her head, but I heard her say: “Hi, honey.”

There was a pause before my daughter’s voice answered. “You’re sleeping in Daddy’s bed.”

“Yes.”

“How come you’re not sleeping in YOUR bed?”

“We decided that I’d sleep here from now on.”

“Oh.” There was another long pause. “Are you in love with Daddy?”

“Yes, honey. I am.”

“Oh.” There was yet another pause. “Are you going to be my new mommy?”

“No, honey. Only your mommy will ever be your mommy. I’m just the babysitter.”

“Oh. I’m hungry. Can I have some cereal and milk?”

“Sure. Go down to the kitchen and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay. I don’t want the milk in the cereal. I want it in a cup.”

“Alright, honey. See you there.”

I heard the patter of little feet scurry out the door and down the stairs. Dawn turned in my arms and kissed me. “Do you always tell little four-year-olds the truth?” I asked.

“I always tell everybody the truth,” she said simply; and she was gone.

I had arranged for two hours free (beginning at 12:30, when Tina got home from preschool) so I could take them both out to the restaurant where I’d first met Dawn, down near the pier. As an afterthought, I’d made her wear her necklace, telling her that there was always the possibility that I’d hypnotize her in public ... a concept that seemed to both terrify and thrill her. Wearing it had an unintended consequence, though. John Wiggin, the village jeweler, stopped by our table and begged to get a closer look at the thing. She didn’t take it off, and I wasn’t entirely sure that the 70-year-old codger wasn’t just trying to look down her cleavage. But he seemed to have eyes only for the necklace.

“They don’t make fine box chains like this anymore,” he gushed. “And the setting is especially nice. This must be at least two carats ... or is it more?”

“I don’t know,” Dawn said. “It belonged to my mother. And her mother before that.”

“Exquisite. A perfect clear pear. ‘E’ at least. Possibly ‘D.’ If you ever desire to have it appraised, will you come to me? I’d love to examine it properly.”

I didn’t think he’d ever leave. “Just a crystal?” I asked pointedly.

But she was preoccupied helping Tina use various crayons on her specialty place mat. She shrugged. “That’s all Mommy ever called it. Her crystal. She said that staring at it would ‘take her away at night.’ That’s what gave me the idea to use it for self hypnosis.” She shrugged yet again. “Who knows? Maybe it has magical properties.”

The three of us played a toddler-board game that evening after dinner, and when I’d finished reading to Tina and put her to bed, I came to find Dawn in the teddy nightgown at the dining table, lost in reverie in front of my laptop. It was a porn page that outlined the 100 best sexual positions, and she wanted to try one. Neither of us possessed adequate strength, dexterity or stamina, however; and we wound up in a tangle of arms and legs, laughing hysterically. I sat back down at the computer with her perched on my lap, and we scrutinized other possibilities while my hands idly played with her nipples. Finally, she simply decided to reverse directions while I stayed seated in the chair, which had a relatively narrow seat and was thus perfect for some face-to-face sex. I was especially deep inside her in this position, and we were both concerned that her moans might wake up my daughter ... but somehow we made it through the ordeal.

When we went to bed, I forgot about the necklace until she begged me to use it on her.