The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Impulse Control

by Pizzahead

Eight — What Have You Done

There was a steady snow falling when I returned to the chalet, and plenty of chatter on the radio about it turning into a blizzard. Nell was awake when I brought in the first bags filled with essentials. She had obviously put fresh wood in the stove and she sat cross-legged just a few feet away from it, still in her jeans with her white under-blouse barely able to contain her boobs. The effect was that my new abode wasn’t empty at all, because it was filled with tits and the aroma of recent sex.

“Is there more?” she asked, looking at the bags in my hands.

“A lot more. I even have things tied to the car’s roof.”

“I could put on my jacket and help unload the car. Or, if you can just get things inside…”

“That sounds like the plan.”

She stretched her back, arms raised high with her hands clasped together, and I really believed she was simply stretching; her purpose was not to thrust her monster tits out provocatively. Still, it was like a magnificent bird displaying immense breasts instead of brilliantly colored plumage, and that had me carrying bags and boxes from the car with my cock trying to bore a hole through the front of my jeans.

She didn’t attack my pants; she seemed to be on a mission of being helpful. I hadn’t cast a new impulse spell and decided to hold off for a bit, as we found a wordless rhythm of unpacking all the stuff I’d bought. Sometimes Nell would pause from whatever she was doing, and either stare into space, or directly at me, but then she’d smile and be back in homemaking mode.

She was way more thorough than I would even think to be, cleaning the inside of the refrigerator before placing groceries inside, and making sure drawers were wiped down before any contents went in. She was the one to decide which counter drawer would hold the silverware, and in no time at all it felt like my kitchen was in the kind of order that can only come from a woman’s touch. By observing her choices and divining why she had made them, I learned a little bit about setting up a cooking space with an eye towards functionality. I also learned that if I allowed myself to be captivated by every new view of Nell’s miracle boobs in action, then I’d be completely useless, never getting anything done.

I had bought a table lamp and set it on the floor near the steps to the loft portion of the chalet—no table, but someday. The light had completely faded outside and the west-facing windows were getting covered with snow, an occasional moan of wind meandering through my new home. The warm light from the lamp kept me from having to turn on the overhead, and with the stove crackling away I thought the place had a romantic air, even if there was nowhere decent to sit.

Entering the kitchen, Nell regarded me and said: “What have you done to me?”

Those were the first words she had spoken in perhaps fifteen minutes, and they came with her standing with her back to the kitchen sink, arms to the side with her hands gripping the counter’s edge. Positioned like that, her poor shirt had to be wondering why it was forever being tortured into stretching beyond its capacity.

“What do you mean?” I asked, breathing out a fresh impulse spell.

A choked-out laugh in response, with her eyes studying the ceiling. She held out a hand and began to tick-off fingers. “Let me see. One, I’ve never been intimate with anyone, anyone, before getting to know them really well. I don’t… And that’s number two, that it’s not in my nature to seduce guys, but that’s exactly what I did here. I’ve pretty much thrown myself at you since Christmas Eve, if you hadn’t noticed, and I came her knowing I’d flaunt my boobs at you to get us having sex. Three, I know you’re in a relationship with Nancy Bakken, and that means I’m trying to steal you away from someone else, and that’s a firm no-no, yet I did that anyway, too. Four, I must have blacked-out from the, um, the pleasure, which I didn’t even know… I mean it was so intense that I blacked-out! Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I understood more than she did but her point was clear—she’d liked the sex.

“But it gets worse, John, because I think… I feel like…”

She wanted to say whatever it was, but was fighting to hold the words back. I reached in and made resistance impossible.

“…I think I’ve fucking fallen in love with you!”

She looked exasperated, almost in shock. What I felt in response was so much hardness in my pants that maybe I was in shock, too.

She finally turned her head in my direction and beamed fierceness at me. “Make that I know I’ve fallen in love with you, and that’s number five. I don’t do that! I don’t fall in love!”

I had no idea what she meant about not “doing” falling in love, and it didn’t really matter. The attraction spell had ensnared her to the ultimate degree, love, and its effects could last for months or even years. Best yet, I knew that whenever it faded away I could simply create a new potion, and with the impulse magic I could make her drink it. She was mine. The next-door neighbor I’d lusted over for years, the most beautiful girl I’d ever known with the hottest tits I’d seen in my entire life, was mine.

I took a victory lap of sorts. “You make it sound like falling in love is an unwanted thing, like the universe put a spell on you or something.”

She semi-laughed. “I guess that’s how everyone feels when The Big One comes along. Honestly, I never thought… No one would accuse me of being an easy romantic; Lila could tell you that. But secretly… Only I thought that maybe I was too practical, and wondered if that made me impervious. And then you, too young and right next door! And with a girlfriend already! How on earth…” And she moved her head side to side, a silent laugh at the cosmic joke.

I could see where Nell might have made an inner promise to herself, that she would never go after any guy who was in a relationship. She was so sexy that she could probably snatch anyone away with little more than a hint of cleavage and an inviting smile, but why bother? She was a woman who could have anyone she wanted; no wonder she was exasperated that she had, out of the blue, fallen hard for me.

“Listen Nell, I’ll immediately break things off with Nancy; you can trust me on that. We had a pretty good thing going for awhile, but she’d tell you herself that she never thought it would be long-term, not with college on the horizon. I’ll always have warm feelings about her, but you… It’s really different with you. Completely different.”

I wanted to look her in the eyes, maybe hold her gaze with the two of us silently speaking volumes. But she made that impossible by clutching the bottom of her top and shimmying it up and over her boobs, setting them free. They wobbled some and surged in every direction, twin immensities with areoles and nipples like something an unrestrained thirteen year-old might draw.

“I think you’re in love with my breasts,” she said, like a challenge. “It’s obvious that they totally captivate you, and Nancy isn’t… It’s not even a fair fight, and I never wanted to be that woman.”

Her tits had captivated me from the day she’d moved in next door, but I wasn’t going to admit to that in so many words, yet. Or should I? I hadn’t impulsed her into baring her tits; she’d just done it.

“I mean they’re freaking double-J,” she offered, giving me a back-arched sideways view before hefting her wonders simultaneously with folded arms. “34JJ-23-35—thank you for not asking, but I have this feeling you’ve been dying to know.”

J-Jesus Christ! It felt like my cock might explode through my pants incredible Hulk style, and the beauty of it was that she knew exactly what she was doing to me. What she didn’t know—and maybe I loved this even more—was that she had no clue as to why she was here making a show of her body, and telling me her measurements, and generally acting like my best friend and housekeeper and fuck-puppet when just a couple of days ago we probably wouldn’t have done anything more intimate than exchanging Christmas greetings. Totally into me, even gushing about being in love with me…

And somewhere in the workings of her mind she accepted it. It didn’t make any sense—she could see that clearly enough—but it was a settled matter in her own head, or heart, that these were her true feelings, coming from her as opposed to being draped upon her. I was pretty sure this was the reason the attraction spell had to be physically ingested, whereas I could just read and manipulate impulses. The impulses were self-made, part of any individual’s daily existence; I only manipulated what was already there. Falling in love in an imposed direction was entirely different; I only had to recall Blizzard’s brief desire to impregnate my leg to understand how alien the attraction spell’s influence could be.

But not recognized as alien, not when it was quite literally inside the recipient. Nell might feel like she’d never understand how and why she fell for me on Christmas night and wanted to be my lover, but she experienced it as yet another of the mysteries of herself, those unknown realms of the psyche that give us intense likes and dislikes and all the while we’re never quite sure why.

“Come… closer…” she whispered, soft as a snowflake, sound melting into my ears.

Her interior capitulation to yearnings she would never be able to understand were in those two words. I never meant to but I kind of growled, like it was my cock’s voice proclaiming just how much it wanted to get closer to her and in her. Without any hesitation I strode over to Nell and my big hands covered what they could of her tits. JJoyous pleasure, squeezing into that soft flesh to absorb sheer tactile delight. JJubilation, the feeling inside when Nell’s head tipped back, her eyelids fluttering, looking like she finally understood why great nature had bestowed her with such epic mammaries—to ensnare me. Like I was the catch, and she had used her totally unfair advantage, her mammoth tits, to cheat all the details of life that otherwise would have kept us separated.

Her head came forward, and inside it was the need to transmit a serious thought. “What if I told you,” she said, releasing her boobs to slip her hands into my jeans, “that I love some aspects of your anatomy just as much as you love my tits. Your cock, your hands, every fucking finger…”

What if? Desiring her pussy like I did I would probably find the will to leave the gravity of Nell’s divine breasts, and even pull her hands away from my cock for the purpose of squatting down, unfastening the button of her jeans and unzipping them along the way. And I would ease them down her smooth, toned cheerleader thighs, taking hold near each foot to help her step out of them. And then, seeing and smelling just how fresh desire darkened that obscuring material, I’d slip drenched panties down her legs as well, and find her pussy shaved bare, looking as photogenic as everything else about her. Finding her wet and ready like that, I would probably lick one of the thumbs she might love so much, and I’d let that be the very first part of my anatomy to penetrate her.

And I would gently eat that woman’s pussy, showing her that even though I was completely infatuated with her gigantic tits, and even though I had a dick that felt like red-hot hissing steel, just waiting for its turn to be sucked or fucked or monster-mashed between her tits again, it was the overall quality of her pleasure that would forever be my pole star. And I would get her moaning by only traditional mortal means, using my tongue and my lips, teasing her clitoris and backing off, and when she groaned, “Oh God more!” I’d give her more, using all the skills I’d learned by eating Nancy’s pussy so frequently since the summer.

And once Nell’s climax rose like a tide, an inevitable wave governed by natural law, my ability to control her clitoral impulses would alight in me with neon brightness, and I would bring my unnatural abilities to bear, lassoing her explosive impulses and detonating them, and once detonated suspending them in mid-blast, forcing them to build and build in density like a crowd trying to push all at once through a single narrow door. And only when I thought she could bear no more without coming out of the experience addled and insane would I remove my hold on all that wanted to be set free, the entire wall that obstructed her continued orgasm suddenly collapsing, the vibrating mass of pleasure inside of her surging into freedom all at once.

Oh, how she came, with vocalizations that I worried might shatter the new wineglasses I’d just bought. She became a shuddering woman sprawled sideways on a linoleum floor, every part of her body quivering rapid-fire, her expansive boobs shaking the most, an erotic study of energy vibrating through beautiful mass. At its height it was almost like looking at someone in the pain of withdrawals, rather than a woman’s climax given so much force that her body barely knew how to deal with it.

She remained conscious, but was rag doll limp when I carried her back to our nest by the woodstove. I’d bought two pillows and I placed them side-by-side, but I ended up sitting cross-legged with her head in my lap. Sometimes she was on her side, legs bent with one mighty boob resting upon the other, silently staring at the fire. Other times she turned onto her back, looking up at me upside-down, the adorableness of her features an inescapable fact from any direction.

I was the one crawling with impulses and urges that I tamped down. Her tits had this way of catching light like the moon, some portion alight while the rest fell into shadow, and when on her back her breasts seemed to grow half again as huge in volume, spreading wide, her upper arms essentially gone from view. It felt like my hands had their own will—the fingers wanted to press, to squeeze, to cop, to fasten onto a nipple and pull. But the mood, for the moment, was entirely different, and I found myself with one hand on her head, fingers entangled in soft hair, the other hand stroking her cheek.

“I just had the most amazing orgasm of my life,” she eventually said, breaking the silence. “Twice now, I… I don’t even know what to think.”

I could have congratulated her, or myself. Instead, finding the previous spell evaporated, I breathed out a new one.

“I don’t know if…” she began, and there was no impulse to say more. She seemed to be finding her way to working something out, and I wondered whether she was remembering her Christmas night orgasm. An impulse bubbled up to touch my face, and up came her arm, fingers on my cheek with her thumb at my lower lip.

“Either there’s something about you that makes me burn extra hot, or I’ve all of a sudden entered my sexual prime, or—”

“Or we should celebrate having the chemistry of a lifetime,” I supplied an incomplete alternative, reaching down and getting my hands under the overspillage of her breasts at their outer edges, pressing in and making them rise. My cock had been on yellow alert for the longest time, waiting for her to recover. Now it became a hard object pressing at the back of her skull.

“It’s my father’s birthday,” Nell said, just about the last words I expected to hear. “You’ll need to take me home, but that doesn’t mean…”

The impulse to rotate her whole body around came before the action itself, which took her tits away but put her mouth right at my erection. A fair trade, I thought, especially as she gently, carefully, tongued the crown, tantalizing dabs and swipes that got me pulsing harder and harder.

“I…” Wiggle. “…love…” Sudden length-long slurp. “…your…” Into her mouth and back out with a lip-smacking pop. “…cock!”

It loved her right back, there inside her mouth at first but then as a good and hard doggy-style fucking, with the weight of Nell’s knockers wobbling all over my hands and forearms. I didn’t perform any impulse magic on her clitoris to begin with—I just pounded away into a jaw-clenching release inside her, and used that extra lubrication to fuck her all the harder, as fast as I could thrust. She responded by talking dirty, breathy, saying “God yes fuck me! Fuck me oh yes fuck me so hard I… I… Oh God I…”

And now was the time to mind-fuck her clit, not orchestrating anything about her release except for throwing fuel into it. She went still for perhaps two seconds, a suspension of voluntary movement as all her physical energy coalesced between her legs; then, with a loud and sustained cry of deliverance, I could feel the surge of her climax all around my dick, and simultaneously inside my mind. It was exquisite, the giant wave with after-ripples that she was experiencing, and in its wake I came again, jetting into a flood, both of us jerking from the center of our bodies.

Mutual collapse, mutual holding on, warmth against warmth and Nell with the impulse to speak, only her breaths came too fast and she didn’t seem to be able to get any traction in her vocal cords. We lay like that for a good long while, two lovers recovering from a self-made carnival ride.

Nell finally did speak. “I know we can’t do that every hour of every day, but I’d sure like to try sometime.”

I hugged her tighter, repositioning to lay my cheek against the soft expanse of a Nell-boob. The whole side of my face was warmed.

“It’s almost unbelievable, what I feel with you,” she added. “I thought I knew… Despite what people must think, I’ve only had four lovers. And I thought I knew what it was to feel, to… to…”

I loved hearing what she was saying, but there was also the texture of an extraordinary nipple, in the proximity of my mouth. “You thought you knew what it was to cum?” I asked, turning my head and kissing her nipple, casting a fresh impulse spell right into it before exploring with my tongue and lips.

Nell’s breath caught. Then: “John, we couldn’t possibly…”

But the stiffening of her nipple and the stirrings in the woman’s clitoris said otherwise, and if the assumption was that I couldn’t possibly, I let her know otherwise by taking her hand and bringing it to me, soft palms grazing hard cock, and Nell expelling the sound of astonishment.

“My God you’re unbelievable,” she whispered, fingers wrapping, thumb gliding. “How can—“

“A woman as beautiful as you even has to ask?” I supplied my prepared answer, juicing her clitoris as the words came out.

She groaned, and sat up, and gathered her giant treasures and pushed them together, offering them to my face. I buried myself in there, just absorbing the tactile wonder of having my head smushed and pressed and essentially tit-fucked. And with the tiniest of pauses to grab one of the bottles of lickable massage oil I’d gotten from the store, I turned face-fucking into cock-fucking between those monsters, and let the link between tit-fucking and clit-buzzing become firmly reestablished, so Nell would never be able to forget that what I wanted the most made her cum the most, guaranteed.

* * *

In a perfect world we might have spent every minute until school began, right there by the stove, fucking every which way. But not even bliss-on-magic can slow the passage of time, nor the tides of life’s duties. As she’d mentioned before, it was her dad’s birthday, and she called to say she’d be getting there way late, but she wasn’t going to miss it entirely.

I wanted to shower with her, my cock inside hot pussy while I soaped cum off her huge tits, but we both knew we’d never leave if we did that. In several different ways, Nell remarked on my sexual stamina, caught somewhere between the thrill that I could just keep getting hard, and the puzzle that something that should be impossible was happening. It was that budding suspicion that gave me the strength to let her shower on her own, and get dressed, the both of us getting into my car with me accepting Nell’s intention of spending the night at her parents’ house.

The heater was blasting, and in the mirrors I could see the fresh tracks we carved into a good six inches of snow. “When was the very first time you imagined the two of us in bed?” she asked, once we turned off of my road.

We’d still never gotten near a proper bed, but that was no reason to object to her question. “Honestly, the night after I first met you.”

She called me a naughty boy and lightly punched my shoulder, then crossed her arms under her boobs. Having seen her naked for hours hadn’t curbed my appetite for drinking in her beauty, and I stole a few glances. Her super-tits were all covered up in her leather jacket again, but the happiness dimples were still on full view.

“What about you?” I asked, curious.

She sighed and said: “I think I imagined a night like this right after we had our cusp-of-Christmas walk. I know we were only walking and talking but I swear… There are moments in your life you know you’ll always remember, and that was one for me. It was like you were just being you, and I felt… I didn’t want to come on too strong but it was like my heart was blossoming, getting more open with every step.”

Which I took as a very accurate description of how it must have been for her, with the attraction magic settling into her system. “It felt special to me, too, like something I never thought could happen was happening, kind of like living a dream.”

We travelled a bit more before she said: “I had this feeling we’d be great in bed together. After our walk and talk, and speaking to you on the phone… I thought about you, and I got pretty excited, you know? Like… I don’t know. My body giving me a preview or something. An indication, so I wouldn’t fuck things up. Like I said before, I came with you today fully believing we’d make love. I never imagined I’d strip so fast and that it could all be so great, but… Well, you know the rest. You were there.”

Nell sighed again, and I took the sound as one of contentment. Only when I glanced over, her expression was darker. “Why are you frowning?” I asked.

“This snowstorm. I would hate to think… But my dad’s 4-Runner will be available tomorrow. I can get to your place even if it snows another foot. But it’s not just the snow. I guess I have some things to figure out. I’m not sure…”

She went quiet looking out the side window into the dark of a Michigan storm, and I had to use the impulse magic to pull the rest of the words out.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do. You have to finish school here and I’ll be a thousand miles away. Spring break isn’t until March, and to think that I can… And that’s the thing, I don’t think I can go though with it. We could call each other, Skype each other, but that’s not the same thing at all. It’s so crazy how fast this has happened, but I want to be with you. I mean, I think I need to be.”

So it was all so crazy, what she felt for me so fast. There was no clouding of her mind that the sudden deep attraction was foreign to her experience, but it got placed into the one-of-those-crazy-things folder, not the danger-danger-I’ve-been-invaded-by-magic folder.

As for my own feelings, I also abhorred the idea of going without Nell for months. I hadn’t come up with any kind of plan, but I had found myself pondering some interesting questions, like did I even need a high school diploma now? Was there any compelling reason for going to college? People went to college to get skills for making a living, and to make connections, and to get laid. I had skills that a hundred years of higher learning could never bestow upon me, and while I might have a blast enchanting and fucking a bunch of college babes, would I ever find one that could match the woman right here in my car, the one with double-J fetish tits who’d confessed to being in love with me?

“We’ll find a way to be together,” I stated to the blanketed pavement ahead. “We’ll both brainstorm what we could do to make that happen. I’m going to think creatively, outside of the boundaries. We’re going to be together, and not just for the next week.”

It was a feeling hitherto unknown to me, what swelled inside as I spoke those words. I knew them to be true because they had to be true. I had special gifts now, gifts that might be shared by only a few other people on earth, or perhaps nobody else on earth. The attraction spell had given Nell to me, but it was the impulse magic that could be wielded anywhere at anyone, and I knew deep inside that I hadn’t even begun to explore all the ways it could be used to shape my life. Partly, that was because my focus had been all about getting Nell. Now that I had her, I also knew I’d never really had an aim in life, a quest that meant enough to me that I just had to accomplish it, no matter what.

“We’re sticking together,” I said out loud. “No matter what.”

And I wondered: Had I fallen in love, too, truly? I loved everything about the way Nell looked, and the I loved the smell of her, and even the way she’d taken charge and made my new kitchen feel homey with just thirty minutes of effort. I was under a kind of spell, too, the one any young man longs for in his life, wanting and being wanted by a beautiful and vibrant woman.

“I love you, Nell Brockton,” I said without turning my head, keeping my eyes fixed to the road. We were almost at the turn to our street.

She unfastened her shoulder harness. There were definitely some impulses alive in her, and they were all aimed at my crotch. Although she touched my right hand first, showing me just how sexy the glide of an index finger along my knuckles could be.

“I’ve never been fixated on anyone’s hands before. Like I just want to stare at them, and touch them, and measure them…”

Exactly the way I felt about her tits, and I didn’t think that was a coincidence. Was there something like a mirroring effect to the attraction spell, like if I had a fixation on some particular quality the recipient possessed, they’d feel a strong attraction to a similar aspect of me? I was especially obsessed with several parts of Nell’s anatomy, her tits and dimples and ass, and did that create ripples in her, inviting her own body-fixations in kind?

“Don’t turn left,” she said, placing her hand firmly on mine like she’d start steering if she had to. She faced me and leaned forward, and some of the weight of her boobs found my right thigh. “I just… I don’t want to forget how beautiful it is.”

What was beautiful must be my dick, because the hand-on-hand became hand-on-bulge. “Nell, the roads…”

“Keep driving if you can or pull over someplace we won’t get stuck if you can’t focus when I…”

She pulled my hard cock out of my fly, and her mouth immediately went to sucking me off again. Big wet full-throated down-thrusts—this girl was a hell of a lot more than a pair of titanic tits, because she could fucking give head.

“I love thiss scock,” she said with drooly imprecision. A forceful humming, coming up for air to say, “Sstho big an’ thick!”, and more sucking and then, “Jusssd love it!”.

I had the windshield wipers on fast and Nell matched their speed, her head going up and down in my lap with occasional interruptions where she proclaimed how much she loved my dick. I didn’t consciously think to drive to the little turnout where Nancy and I had car-fucked so many times, but I was confidant the tires would find traction there and I pulled in, my hand turning the engine off and all sounds falling away except for those of Nell’s mouth devouring my meat.

I felt her up as I could, and maybe it was contact with the expansive rims of her boobs that made my ass clench, an absolute monster load welling up inside. “Oh fuck I’m gonna…” I said, and she pulled her head back with her tongue thrust out to catch my jizz, which shot like a canon onto her forehead and up to the inside of the car’s roof.

I continued to spurt, and it was almost dizzying, like I’d suddenly lost blood, not sperm. Thank God I’d pulled off the road.

Nell licked me clean before zipping me back in, my cock shrinking, but not necessarily for long. Her systems were buzzing and I could sense her impulse to smack her lips a millisecond before she did it.

“You’re freaking delicious,” she said, sticking her tongue out to show me she’d downed every drop.

I placed my hand on her thigh, fingertips almost right at her pussy, and she giggled out a “No, get me home before we’re buried here,” taking my hand in both of hers and giving it a hard squeeze. Then she drew it onto her left breast and my fingers opened, and I did some squeezing myself as she continued: “You can have as much of me tomorrow as you want. I’ll come early, let’s say nine in the morning. We can try to get you more things for your place if you want, or we’ll just set up everything you already have, in-between… You know.”

I drove her home and navigated to parallel-park facing back out from my—make that my parents’—house, making it easier to go if the snow kept piling up. Nell had a small packet of Wet Ones in a jacket pocket and she asked me to clean any visible cum off of her hair or face, and when I did I could feel her watching my hands, and studying the planes of my face, like she wanted mental pictures to hang onto during the hours that we’d be separated. When I was done she leaned over for a kiss that lasted at least two minutes, with both of us breathing heavily when our lips finally disengaged. I could feel that her nipples were fully erect and she gave my cock a parting squeeze through my jeans, saying, “That thing just never quits, does it?”

She still didn’t even understand how much it didn’t quit. It might not quit for years and years and years, not if Nell and I could work out a way to bridge a thousand miles of distance, or make it go away.

“Good luck with your parents.” she said while opening her door, snowflakes swirling inside. “Oh, wait, your Christmas present! I almost forgot!” And out came a memory stick from her jacket. “Listen to it, okay? And call or text to let me know how they took the news.”

The news that I had already moved out, she meant. Nell’s tight jacket wasn’t the best for this kind of weather, and she walked away hunched against the wind. Watching her from the rear, I would swear she had the shapeliest ass in all of Michigan, which, when combined with the overabundance of all she possessed up front, was just an insane piling-on by the sexiness gods. She paused at the front door and turned to wave good-night, and I was almost certain she blew an air-kiss at me through the falling flakes.

It took a couple of minutes before my cock had calmed down enough to venture inside my parents’ house. At the front stoop I had the thought to ring the doorbell, but that was stupid—they didn’t know yet that I no longer lived here.

It was cozy inside my parents’ home; the house had withstood many a storm fiercer than this one. Blizzard came running with a joyful yip, and I found my stepmom and dad sitting at the dining room table, looking at something together on Meghan’s laptop. She was wearing a cut-off grey t-shirt over a sports bra, the same ab-revealing outfit she used to wear when training for competitions, and I’d bet anything she had on sexy workout leggings beneath the table. As I approached them, she looked up and I would swear I saw her face, aglow in blue light from the computer screen, go from troubled Meghan to feral Meghan to an assumed mask of ordinary beautiful MILF Meghan, all in the span of about two seconds. Witnessing that, I cast the impulse spell on her, wanting to sense where she was inside.

“There’s pot roast and an arugula salad waiting for you in the fridge,” she said, her eyes never leaving my face. Nell hadn’t given me a hickey or anything, but I wondered: were my lips raw, the skin around my mouth red from so much nipple sucking and cunt-licking?

My step-mom had an impulse to get up and go into the kitchen, either to fetch the food or to show off her legs. She stayed seated instead, and I pulled out the chair opposite and slowly sank into it, clearing my throat before speaking.

“I need to talk to you both about a life decision I’ve made.”

Predictably, my step-mother looked me directly in the eye while my dad turned to her, reading her emotions. After seeing what he needed to see he addressed me. “Okay, we’re listening. And it does need to be a discussion between the three of us while you’re living under this roof.”

I could not have hoped for a better opening. “That’s just it. I don’t live under this roof any more. I signed a lease today on my own place, about fifteen minutes away. I’ve already got the kitchen part-way set up, and I’ll be moving most of my things there over the next couple of days.”

Meghan’s nostrils flared, and her eyebrows seemed to undulate like twin caterpillars. She tamped down several impulses all at once, her mouth wanting to open to speak, her arms and legs twitching with the desire to bolt out of her chair, probably to pace. What she did instead was gently touch her husband’s hand before closing the laptop cover, saying in a measured voice, “We can get back to these matters tomorrow. Your—our—son is, for better or worse, determined to leave the nest earlier than either of us suspected.”

“Where is this place?” my father asked. “How much is the rent? Did you have to give a deposit?”

I explained the particulars, tuning in to my stepmother’s reactions as I could. Even just by the clues from her changing expressions, I could see that she was going through some kind of emotional roller coaster ride, her jaw initially tightening and her eyes darting almost furtively, then a little smile playing at her lips, followed by a gentle chewing of her lower lip that was undeniably sexy.

“A place of your own,” she said, and there was a wistfulness in her voice, like she was pleased for me, or just plain pleased.

“You’ve obviously made more from your carpentry work than we realized,” my father said, raising his eyebrows inquisitor-style to ask if I’d been involved in any illegal side businesses, too.

”All legit,” I said. “You don’t need to worry about anything like that.”

“Maybe you should be the one to worry, about practical matters like paying rent every month. You’ve never—“

“He’s already done it,” Meghan said, touching my dad’s hand again. “We need to remember that he’s a big boy now, ready to take on life’s challenges. Your son is a man, and we should support him, not—“

“You saw the numbers,” my father almost snapped. “We can hardly—“

“I don’t want any financial help,” I cut in, wondering if they were in some sort of money difficulties they didn’t wish to share. “I’ll make my way. Trust me on that.”

“He’s right, you have to trust him,” came Lila’s voice. She had come into the room behind me, and was standing close, discomfiting close. She placed a hand on my back and said, “Most of my friends at school have good things to say about their parents, and they’re basically emotionally healthy young adults. It’s the ones whose parents coddled them too much that seem kind of fucked-up—“

“Language,” our father said.

“Yeah, but it’s true. He’s telling you that it’s time for him to move out and you should give him your blessing. He certainly has mine.” That last bit with a little wiggling of her middle finger into my back. And did I smell Lila pussy again?

“So…” I said, and drew the sound out to cast an impulse spell on my sister. I could immediately see that her clitoris was practically shrieking with lust, and she was biting down an impulse to pull me up the stairs.

I pushed my chair back and got up, and hurried into the kitchen. I found the plate of food my stepmother had mentioned and removed the plastic wrap, grabbing a fork from the utensil drawer. I turned with the intention of returning to the dining room table, and there was Meghan, leaning against the refrigerator. In her exercise outfit, she looked like she could lift the refrigerator onto her back and carry it five miles, barely breaking a sweat.

“Do you have what you need over there to get through a storm? It’s supposed to be a big one.”

Her rear rested upon the refrigerator door, her arms crossed under her boobs, biceps tensed. Her rear end wasn’t still; she kept shifting her weight sideways, like giving each ass cheek a little massage against hard metal. She was indeed wearing exercise leggings, dark and sleek with the muscles of her legs looking as strong as the steel of any appliance. I could sense her clitoris all alive and wanting.

“I think so. There’s plenty of firewood for a freestanding stove, and I’ve got enough food for a couple of days.”

“Warm blankets? I hate to picture you shivering in bed, all alone…”

She couldn’t hate whatever image had come into her head too much, not with the way it made her clit flare. “Uh, not so much on the blankets.”

“You have comfortable sheets? Pillowcases?”

“Well, they aren’t… I don’t even have a bed yet. I got an inflatable air mattress, and I think I have a little travel pillow in the trunk of the car. I’ll get by for now, and in a few days I’ll have the place just the way I want it.”

“Just the way you want it,” she repeated my words. “I could…” She had the impulse to say more and I could watch her fighting to keep the words inside. The chewing on her lips became ferocious for a couple of seconds, then she spoke calmly: “Tell me John, are you creating a love nest?”

What was she, a psychic all of a sudden? “I hadn’t really thought of it that way,” I said, even though that was exactly how I’d seen the space from the beginning.

“I was really hot at your age; I don’t think it’s vain of me to say that. But I never played the field the way I could have. I was so focused on sports, and when I did go out on dates… I guess you don’t even know how you’re doing, the things that make you special, until somebody tells you. I knew I could… And then your father…”

She waved her hand around in the air, a gesture that could have meant anything. She wanted to tell me something, presumably about her sexuality or their sexuality, but was choking it down through a great deal of effort.

I could have made her say it, and I sure was curious, but pulling out news reports about my parents’ sex life wasn’t even close to being a goal. I just stood there holding my plate, wondering where Meghan’s magic-affected mind would take her next.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds and I could see the impulse that brought a hand up to cup her right breast. With a miracle like Nell living next door, I sometimes hadn’t thought of my stepmom’s breasts as being huge, but by any other measure they were. She lightly banged the back of her head against the refrigerator, a gesture of frustration or self-recrimination, and I had to stifle words of my own, like, “Yes, that’s where all the problems started, right there behind your head. The damned eggnog, that’s why you’re all messed up like this!”

Meghan’s hand left her boob, and she brought both hands down to the tops of her thighs, where she began to massage her quadriceps muscles. It could be that she had a cramp there, or they were sore from exercise, but the way her clitoris was a part of this action had to mean that she knew I’d watch her muscles bulge through the covering of her leggings.

She thought I’d find these visuals stirring, and she was right. It was getting to me, or to my dick, that she was unable to refrain from teasing me as she was, with her pussy all desirous, her clit all but howling on the impulse field. I couldn’t help it; in my heart of hearts I wished she’d massage my erection the way she was massaging those powerful legs. I was like she was; I knew I shouldn’t be turned on, but I was.

“I’m working out like I never have before,” she said, not looking at me but staring down the front of her body. “I’ve had all this energy to burn off, so much energy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so motivated, so alive, so… Rompf!”

Perhaps the word “rompf” meant when a woman had the desire to adjust the positioning of her hands just the little bit it would take to be touching her pussy. I thought it might be smart to intervene and kill that impulse, but the will was weak and in a couple of heartbeats it was already too late, as one of Meghan’s fingers brushed against her clitoris. There was a loud inhalation, a reverse hiss that sounded a lot like steam being sucked back inside some mechanism on its way to becoming critically over-pressurized, ready to blow.

Masturbating right in front of me in the kitchen, with my father, her husband, not a dozen feet away with his back turned—that couldn’t be good, yet a host of body impulses were gathering inside her, poised to drive her into doing just that, full on. She was trying to hold them at bay, and utterly failing, two fingers slowly rubbing at the apex of her thighs, head lowered like it turned her on to watch the action.

It seemed to me that if I worked at snuffing all of that out, she might feel the shift as unnatural…

But maybe that was just an excuse to do nothing and join her in watching, because holy crap was Meghan on fire a thrilling show. I had the fireman’s hose that could, at least temporarily, douse her flames, but under the circumstances I took what had to be the coward’s way out, feigning obliviousness while hurrying past my tortured stepmom, back into the dining room.

Which really wasn’t safer ground. Lila had shifted her position in my short absence; she leaned against the far wall, out of view of her mother’s situation but well able to see that I had a boner. Her eyes flashed and only now did I absorb how she was wearing almost nothing, super-short cut-offs and a baby blue tank-top, no bra. Her nipples were exclamation points in bold and her eyes were like laser-sights putting a red dot on the crotch-bulge Meghan had caused. She outright leered at me, and after glancing at my father to check that he wasn’t looking, her right hand made a not very subtle gesture, like it would if it were jerking someone off.

She indicated that we go upstairs with an upward nod of her head, and I exploited that. Lila’s legs were tensed in anticipation of turning around and climbing the stairs, and I focused and made her do it.

“Wait, wait!” she said from several stairs up, confused that she had bolted without me. She remained within range that I could sap the life out of her reverse impulses, to stop, to turn around, to run back down to try to seduce me again.

With her gone I sat down in the same chair I’d felt trapped in before, and when Meghan appeared in the kitchen doorway, her face was all red with her eyes fastened to me. I made a show of setting my concentration upon the food in front of me, hunching forward and eating like I wouldn’t even know how to hold a fork if I didn’t give the task my complete attention.

Inside, I tuned into Meghan’s interior state, and her clitoris… Fuck, no wonder her face was so red; I didn’t even know how there wasn’t smoke rising from between her legs. Standing directly behind my father’s head, she had the impulse to crook a finger at me, her other hand pointing towards her pussy. She forced that one down al on her own, but couldn’t stop herself from opening her mouth in a seductive way, and rolling her tongue in a slow circle, and…

And shit, Lila was coming back down the stairs. I couldn’t work at controlling impulses in shotgun fashion; it was one at a time, and being in the house with Lila and Meghan was to be engaged in a war with multiple fronts.

In both of them, the impulses to flirt with me, and touch me, and take me somewhere and screw me were worse than before. On Christmas morning, which was just yesterday, the magic had been evident, but not like this. It was as if by making myself scarce, the attraction molecules, or whatever substance magic was made of, had just multiplied, becoming legion.

My father was texting on his phone. A practical man in his bones, I didn’t think he had caught on to the shit-storm of desire that swirled under his roof. He was rubbing at his chin, and he enlarged something on his phone and said: “I could get you a van from the dealership, for moving whatever you need to set yourself up. Just leave your car there and take one of the big cargo vans for the day.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” I replied, chewing and keeping my head down.

“Maybe not tomorrow morning, with all the snow,” he thought out loud. “In the afternoon, though, give them a chance to clear the roads and the lot.”

Meghan stepped forward, not at all composed but at least not stripping naked or fingering herself. She slinked into the chair directly opposite from me again, and said: “A van takes care of the means, but don’t you need help moving things? You know I’m plenty strong. I could—”

“I’ll do the helping!” Lila shouted, even though she was right beside my chair now, her hip touching my shoulder. “If John can get the van here then I’ll help him with his load.”

She almost sounded perfectly normal, but a hand went to my back and it was all she could do to keep from slithering it down to grab at my ass. I caught a wave of her scent—her pussy was not many inches from my nose. Her hip pressed harder; she had an impulse to fold her legs so she could sit on my lap, but I was pushed too far under the table for that.

Which wasn’t a safe zone at all, as a Meghan foot touched my shin, and creeped up. Her mouth hung open and she met my eyes for an instant with hers burning as if infected. Suddenly a big toe touching my erection, and I managed to keep quiet but Meghan let out an “Ohh”, which she bent towards having said something like “Hmmm.” She steepled her hands together as her foot dug deeper and I watched with fascination as her eyes closed and her biceps became pronounced. Even with impulse magic giving hints I couldn’t tell whether she was showing off her arms or dealing with a body animated with runaway tensions. What I could tell—it flared in her suddenly and distinctly—was that she was desperate to get something inside her pussy, presumably me.

Lila pressing in at my side, and my stepmother giving the beginnings of a foot-job… My cock felt like one more pulse would have it upending the table, but emotionally I wished I could somehow fade away, a neat and clean screen-transition to a different scene. But that was not my magic—a cock that could always get hard was, and so far my head-brain and dick-brain had a tendency to look at stepmother-fucking and stepsister-fucking through different lenses.

My father was arranging the cargo van with his phone—he was the only relaxed person in the room, a man at peace as time-bombs ticked. “There!” he said. “All arranged for anytime tomorrow afternoon.”

“You pick me up tomorrow,” Lila said, moving half a step behind so her cunt under the shorts could press into my shoulder blade. “I’ll keep things free to spend as much time as we need so you get everything just the way you want it.”

Perhaps Meghan heard the sexual message there, or she just wanted to make the point that I should say no, so she could be there instead. Regardless, she had the impulse to make everything completely unambiguous under the table, by placing a second foot at my crotch. She wanted to shout at herself to stop feeling so turned-on, and just then Lila’s hand on my back started to slide down, finding the waistband of my jeans and going inside towards my ass crack.

Talk about impulses. Before I even knew what I was doing I shouted, “Oh fuck, I forgot!” and pushed my chair back, eliciting an “Ow!” from Lila. I jumped out of my chair, and brushed past my stepsister as I fled the house without another word. Whether she or anyone else could see that my dick was straining at my pants was irrelevant; I just had to get out of there. It was an artless escape, no doubt unnecessarily theatrical and I didn’t even have my coat over my shoulders as I fled into the winter night.

Once again I had no thought as to what I’d do once I was in my car, other than get the wipers wiping and the wheels turning to get me the hell away from there, heading to home sweet home. Which didn’t even have a real bed yet. And might need some really strong locks on the doors and windows, like a survivalist’s place outfitted to make a stand against zombies.

The roads were getting much more difficult for my snowtires, and on a whim I stopped at the Two Trees convenience store, thinking I’d better stock up. I grabbed several bags of chips and found a cold six-pack of Blue Moon beer, and when I placed the beer on the checkout counter I cast the impulse spell on the pimply clerk, who probably wasn’t much older than I was. “Please find it in your heart to give me a break on the i.d.,” I said, and he had just enough of an impulse in that direction that I could grab hold and sail through.

The chalet was nearly cold enough to keep the six-pack chilled just by leaving it on the kitchen counter. I brought in firewood and got the stove going, and sat on one of the barstools chugging the first beer as the air warmed one half-degree at a time. I popped a second bottle and put the rest in the fridge, then settled onto the rug I’d bought, right in the space where Nell and I had first made love. I could still smell her in the air a little bit, and putting my nose to the rug, her scent became much stronger.

I found the unpacked bag that had the air mattress in it, and I spent several minutes blowing it up. It was a generous size and when I tested it out it felt pretty comfortable. With the rug over top of it, I had a comfy little nest for getting warm and sleeping. And fucking Nell again.

I’d forgotten all about searching for the pillow I thought I had in the car, and when I looked outside the window I decided to just fuck it—the snow was coming down like crazy now, aimed sideways like in a real blizzard. Judging by the direction, it seemed to me that the left-hand side of the house would be half-buried by the morning, but the front stoop would probably remain passable.

I sat close to the stove and got warm, and thought goddamn what a day. It had started with begging—that seemed like an age ago—and had transitioned to fucking and probably even falling in strange-love with Nell, and just now it had all been about running away from home into a harsh winter night. I couldn’t regret a single thing, not with my dick aching the way every adult male wishes their dick would ache, a pleasant throbbing from passionate overuse. I breathed deeply and willed my body to relax, the last remnants of flight adrenaline ebbing away. I was safe in my new home. I could invite certain people in, and turn others away if I wished. This was my domain, and I would be the one to set the rules.

I quickly downed my beer and opened another, and let my thoughts dive into the question of how Nell and I would stay together. I didn’t mean for them to, but the numbers 34JJ-23-35 swam forward and my cock immediately stiffened, and I just sat there with a monster erection, getting warm and feeling hot.

It had come as a surprise to me that a different organ, my heart, had gotten just as stirred up by Nell. She said she loved me and I had every reason to believe her, and I’d said that I loved her right back, and I hadn’t spoken falsely. The entire foundation of our relationship was built upon a kind of falsehood, meaning cheating through magic, but that didn’t mean the emotions weren’t real. I could look at it this way—a chair I crafted out of real hardwood would be more aesthetically pleasing than the same chair made of plastic, but the plastic one might be just as strong as the other, or even stronger. Nell’s feelings might be similarly manufactured, but that didn’t have to imply weakness.

One of us was going to have to leave school; what other way was there of erasing so many miles? And I thought it should be me. Whenever I pictured myself sitting in a desk, pretending to be an ordinary student while watching the minute-hand of the clock slowly ticking along, I just about wanted to throw up. There were a handful of girls it might be fun to captivate with the attraction spell—Stacy Putnam was number one, but there was also Holly Meeks, and how could I forget Leigh Keppelsson, with legs so fine that they were in Lila’s league.

But compared to Nell, they just felt like distractions, or side dishes surrounding the main course. I’d gotten the woman of my dreams and that meant the equation of my life had changed today—it was no longer solely focused on acquisition, because I needed to think some about preservation, too. How to be with Nell, which seemed to really be: I need to move to Colorado, and make money.

I tried to picture that. I had heard somewhere that Nell lived by herself in an apartment, not a dorm—that must have come up in conversation on Christmas eve, with all the others. We could find a larger apartment together, and that way we could fuck every morning before making coffee, and then again whenever she had down-time from classes, and every night and then all weekend every weekend. I would make money by… Doing my begging-on-steroids thing? I could start there but figured it would get old really fast, and what if Nell or one of her friends saw me doing it? Hardly the impression that I wanted to give to the woman I loved.

Sales, that was where the impulse ability could make me a fortune. I thought about how easy it had been to nudge the convenience store guy into letting me buy beer, and what if I flipped that around, and got others to buy things they might otherwise decline? That got me musing on my dad’s job selling cars, and how often he’d spoken about having someone half an inch from agreeing on a price and signing on the dotted line, only to have the deal collapse at the last second. I imagined sitting in front of some personnel manager at a Denver auto dealership, spinning the story of how my father had taught me all the tricks he knew to sell a car, and how I seemed to have an exceptional talent for it. I didn’t need college or even a high school diploma to work there, I’d claim, not when I could be such a wiz-bang success at moving fully equipped autos off the lot. And I could make that personnel manager give me a try-out, doing my thing and instantly becoming the young pheenom with the golden tongue, the young buck at the top of the sales figures board every week.

Real estate—if I could magic my way into selling cars, why not houses? Hell, why not mansions? I’d need a real-estate license, but you didn’t have to go to college for that, did you? A good living through selling cars, then houses, then mansions with deluxe swimming pools. And eventually, Nell and I could live in one of those places, or several of those places all over the world.

I pulled out my phone to take a peek at a map of Colorado, and only then remembered that I’d had the sound muted all day. There was a missed call from Rock, and then at least a dozen voicemails and a similar number of texts from Nancy. And one message, just five minutes ago, from Lila.

I played the last one first. “You dodgy fart, did you move out because of me? I don’t know what your game is with Nell—she has a boyfriend, hello! And what is your problem where I’m concerned—we’re both great at sex and get it through your thick skull that we are not biologically related! It is so exciting though… Think about it—we both get the thrill, the danger of fucking our only sibling, but we aren’t really blood related! Don’t you feel that too, how the fact that we’re almost related makes it all the hotter? No one would ever think that we’re… Oh God I want to fuck you with my legs again. I know I make you hot, make you hard—you hit me with your boner when you bolted from the table just now, and I wanted to…

John, don’t you realize that I haven’t even begun to show you what I can do with this body? You think I studied dance all those years because I thought I’d be a professional ballerina? I’m limber as fuck and… Oh John I want you in me! Call me and tell me you won’t be an idiot tomorrow!“

A pause, with a soft mewing sound. There had been some panting mixed in with her speech, her words sometimes wavering. She had been masturbating while telling me how hot our not-quite incest would be.

“You c…can run, oh, oh yes… But you can’t hide, n…not… from… mmmmooohhh!”

A big gasp into the phone, and then silence, the message ended. And fuck, she might be the easier bullet to dodge, because Nancy and her legion of messages and calls, fuck! She’d be at home right now. She’d probably been there for hours.

The texts started off like: B home soon, dying 2 C U, innocent enough. The second one was: Emailed 8 love poems, hope U like! Love poems; I didn’t even think I wanted to read them. I scrolled down to the final text and it was: WTF??? I’m going crazy here!!! Pick up your fucking phone!!!!!!!!!! With a crying emoji, and Nancy didn’t even like to use emojis; she thought they were stupid.

Her voicemails were even worse. I thought I’d heard every possible intonation of Nancy’s voice over the recent months, but never had I heard her shrieking, nor pleading with a defeated or lost quality, like someone who’d lost their job and their dog and a tooth all on the same day. Her last message, from just half an hour before, was the most worrisome of all: “I don’t know what I’m going to do. You have to… What do I have to do to get you to call? I have to see you or… I don’t know what I’m going to do. It’s snowing really hard and I just don’t know…” And an anguished groan, with a crashing sound like she’d crushed her phone under her foot or thrown it against a wall.

Desperation; I knew it when I heard it. The kind of desperation a woman might voice when an attraction potion worked too well. Somewhere among the uncountable pages of a book that had been old when mankind was young, there might be an antidote, a spell that could evaporate Nancy’s misery; too bad I had no access to it. The only cure I knew about was time, the existence of some unknown point in the future when the attraction magic would fade away. I wanted to curse myself for thinking I’d needed to practice on Nancy—had I blundered into a “Fatal Attraction” kind of thing? But I couldn’t see a level-headed girl like her losing her mind like that; she just wasn’t the psycho type.

Was Lila? Meghan? Because shit, four women had the spell inside them right now, and I only wanted to spend my life with one of them.

An image popped into my mind that made me laugh, nervously. It was the sorcerer’s apprentice part of “Fantasia”, all the brooms relentlessly carrying buckets of water and Mickey Mouse having no ability to stop them. “What have you done?” I asked myself while staring into the fire in the stove. Which responded by crackling and popping, a destructive force giving me warmth and pleasure by being properly contained.

I’d really fucked all of this up, hadn’t I, and not just with the accident with the eggnog, but right from the start. No teacher, that was the problem. The spells were seared into my brain in a way that made their use as easy as reciting the alphabet, but there had never been any guidance as to what pitfalls I might encounter. It was like knowing everything there was to know about driving a car, only with no understanding of the rules of the road.

There was a collision coming; of that I had no doubt. I needed to tell Nancy that I was hooked-up with Nell, which wasn’t going to be easy. Lila was the bigger concern in the short term; it was almost like her rebellious nature was the perfect petri dish for the attraction magic to grow wild in her. My stepmother was different in that she was trying to fight the magic, but it was a fight she was clearly losing.

I had to hope that I could limit any damage with any of them to the fender-bender variety, rather than finding myself in the middle of some awful pile-up, with twisted and steaming wreckage all around. And to do that, I needed to…

Blank. Nothing. A brick wall with no ideas scrawled upon it.

“Fuck me,” I said, finally getting it through my skull how much of a problem it was that I had too many women wanting to do just that, too fervently.