The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey Aunt Wendy, look at this! It’s my new science project!”

Wendy looked up from her book. Stanley was standing in the entrance to the den: curly-haired, skinny, and grinning boyishly. He looked like the eighteen-year-old bundle of twitchy nerdiness that he was.

Wendy sighed. Perhaps agreeing to take in her older sister’s prodigy for two weeks while she gallivanted around Europe had not been a wise idea. The kid was brilliant, but as hyper-active as a Scots terrier.

Stanley was holding a contraption in both hands. It looked vaguely like a camera, except there were wires and lights protruding from it. Some of the parts were held on by alligator clips. The whole thing had the look of one of Stanley’s kooky experiments. Wendy still remembered how he had “remodelled” the toaster to play classical music while it burned the toast. Or the self-flushing toilet, about which the less said, the better.

She sighed again. “Very well, Stanley. What is it this time?”

He was still grinning. “I told you. It’s my new science project. For Advanced Physics.” Stanley was enrolled in a bunch of courses for gifted students. He excelled in all of them.

“I heard that the first time. What is it?”

His smile did not diminish. “It’s a pulse-synchronisation flash induction device. I designed it myself. Cool, yes?”

Wendy looked pained. Conversations with Stanley were replete with unintelligible jargon. “Right,” she said. “I meant, what does it do, exactly?”

Her nerdy nephew advanced into the room. “Well, it produces a series of step-harmonized light pulses that induce a hypnotic state in the receiver.” His grin faltered briefly. “I hope,” he added.

Wendy thought wistfully of her book. She was just getting to the interesting part. She was relaxing in the den, late in the evening, unwinding after the workday. The television was on in the background. Wendy was dressed casually in a sweatshirt and khaki pants. She had taken to covering up around home in the past week. Her horny teenage nephew was a little too interested in his aunt’s abundant curves.

She picked up her book. “That’s nice, Stanley. I’m sure your teacher will be very impressed.”

“No, really, it works, Aunt Wendy,” the young man insisted. “Look, I’ll show you.” He pointed the device toward her. He pushed a button on one side.

Wendy was about to say something else. The gizmo emitted a bright white flash. It dazzled her for a second. Before she could fully recover, it flashed again, and again, first red, then deep blue. The fourth flash was brilliant gold.

For long seconds she sat still, blinking. That was unexpected. Her super-intelligent nephew had invented a multi-coloured camera flash. Chalk that one up alongside the musical toaster. The colours were pretty, at least.

Stanley was looking at her as if he expected something. Wendy smiled indulgently. “Well, what about it? Am I supposed to be hypnotized or something?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Stanley replied. He was dressed as he always was, in a plaid workshirt and blue jeans, faded Nikes. “The step-harmonized wavelengths should make the recipient suggestible. Sort of more open to outside influences.”

“Excuse me?” said his curvaceous blonde aunt.

“Look, I’ll show you,” Stanley enthused. “Take off that sweatshirt.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged evasively. “It’s hard to explain otherwise. I need you to take off the sweatshirt to show you how the device works, all right?”

She raised both hands. “OK, OK. But I hardly see how my sweater has anything to do with your auto-hypnosis gadget.” She stood up and pulled the cotton sweatshirt over her head. She dropped it on the sofa. Underneath she was wearing a tight, white T-shirt. A little too tight, Wendy considered, when her shower-peeping nephew was around. That was one reason for the sweatshirt. Her full breasts pressed against the fabric, round and proud.

She looked at him. “So, now what?” she asked. She did notice his eyes lingering on her tits. She got that look often enough to recognize it at once.

Stanley was grinning like he had just won a bet. “See, you took off your sweatshirt. You responded to an external suggestion.”

“What? You—you just told me to. Oh that’s ridiculous!” She reached for the discarded sweatshirt.

“Don’t put it back on!” His voice was urgent.

Wendy stopped. She raised an eyebrow at him.

He waved his free hand in a gesture of exasperation. “OK, OK. That didn’t really test the device very well. I’ll try to explain this better. Watch this.” Without warning he pointed the thing at her and pushed the button.

White, Red, Blue, Gold! Again the bright lights dazzled her eyes. For a few seconds she stood in place, swaying and blinking. The lights were so intense, so pretty, it took a while to process what her eyes had seen. She forgot to pick up her sweatshirt.

“There,” Stanley said with satisfaction. “Now, do me a favour. Go put on that blue denim mini you used to wear sometimes.”

Wendy looked at him blankly. It took a while to get her mind back on track. “What?” she protested at last, “Whatever for? What has that skirt got to do with your silly little gizmo?”

This time it was Stanley who sighed patiently. “Aunt Wendy, I can’t explain how the device works unless you comply. It’s important. Just go put it on, OK?”

“That skirt shrank in the wash; it doesn’t fit any more. That’s why I stopped wearing it.”

“Put it on anyway. So I can explain how this works.”

Wendy still couldn’t see a connection between his hypno-camera and her apparel. She didn’t feel like arguing about it. Maybe if she indulged him he would let her go back to her book. “Oh very well,” she conceded. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She trotted out of the den toward her bedroom.

She returned less than three minutes later. In place of the comfortable slacks she was now wearing a blue-denim miniskirt, set off by a broad white belt. She had bought the skirt one day when she felt like wearing something sexy. It had been revealingly short even before it shrank in the wash. It gripped her ass tightly.

Still, Wendy had to concede the little skirt did reveal a terrific pair of evenly tanned legs. Rather too much of those legs, in fact. Her white athletic shoes matched the tight T-shirt. The belt was decorated with multicoloured rhinestones.

“Very well,” she said, “here I am. Now what is this all about?”

If Stanley had been admiring his aunt before, now he was outright staring. “Wow, you look great Aunt Wendy!” he blurted. His grin threatened to dislocate his jaw.

The well-built blonde fidgeted under his artless gaze. “Never mind that. You keep your eyes in your head, young man. What are we—”

Without warning Stanley raised the camera and flashed her again. A quartet of blinding, coloured lights bombarded her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Stanley explained to the miniskirted beauty swaying and blinking in front of him. “A guy can’t help noticing that his aunt is so pretty. You are very pretty, Aunt Wendy.”

Unexpectedly, Wendy felt herself blush. She was still feeling spacey from the last flash. The colours lingered on her retinas. “Oh, well, uhm, thank you,” she replied softly. “It’s sweet of you to say so.” She was feeling too good at that moment to raise a fuss about how he was ogling her. She decided instead to steer the conversation back to where it belonged. “Now, about your . . . gadget—what did you call it?”

“A pulse-synchronisation flash induction device”

“Uhm, right. Whatever. The thing is I don’t see how me wearing this skirt explains—”

“You know,” Stanley interrupted casually, “you would look even better if you ditched the track shoes. They’re not very flattering with that pretty mini.”

Wendy looked down at her Pumas, then up at Stanley. Her shoes were trendy and brand new. “What? You don’t like my shoes now? Well I’m hardly going to change for—oooh!”

Stanley had flashed her again. White, red, blue and gold danced around her mind. For a long moment the whole world became sunlight through a stained-glass window. Someone gave a happy sigh. It may have been her.

“You do want to look pretty, don’t you, Auntie?” Stanley asked.

“’Course.” She smiled at him. He was handsome, she decided, in a nerdy kind of way.

“Of course,” her nephew agreed. “You want to look your best. That’s only natural. You’re like, a way good looking woman and you know it. You should be proud of your looks. It’s great to look sexy. Looking sexy makes you feel sexy. Right?”

Wendy couldn’t deny the logic of what he was saying. It was nice to know she was attractive. Nevertheless she frowned at him. “Now you look here, watch what you say, Stanley,” she scolded. She put her hands on her hips assertively. “I’m still your aunt, and you will address me accordingly.” It felt good to be back in control.

Stanley looked cowed. He said: “I only meant, I know you like to look your best. It’s like, exciting to be a hottie. Look, I’ll show you. Throw off those shoes.”

Once again the non sequitur caught her by surprise. “Uhm, OK. Why?” She bent carefully to pull off her laceless sport shoes. She kicked them to one side.

“Hold on a second,” Stanley said. He strode across the room, gizmo in hand, and picked up a shopping bag from behind the television. He handed it to her. “Put these on instead. You’ll see what I mean. You’ll feel much better.”

Wendy took the bag. She peered inside. It held a pair of short black boots with low heels. She pulled one out, scowling.

“Hey, these are my best boots. Where did you . . . you’ve been snooping around in my closet!”

Stanley lowered his head like a scared dog. Yet he persisted. “Put them on, OK? Please? I’ll explain everything,” he replied diffidently.

“You had better!” Wendy decided she had suffered about enough of Stanley’s rude behaviour. Rifling through her closet was the last straw. Still, she sat down on the sofa. She tossed her book to one side. She felt her too-brief mini slide up to the top of her thighs.

She picked up one boot and began to slip it over her foot. She stopped when she felt something inside. She reached in and pulled out a shiny red sock. She held it up by one end. It was quite long.

“What’s this?” she wanted to know.

Stanley shrugged apologetically. “I got them for you. They go with the boots. Go ahead, put them on. See how much better you feel when you’re dressed right.”

Wendy got to her feet. “Look, Stanley, this nonsense has gone on long enough. I don’t know what kind of trick you are playing here, but I am not going to stand still another—Oh! Ahhhhhh . . . .” Stanley had flashed her with his inducer thingie again. The room was a bright paradise of white, then red, then blue, all glinting with gold. Wendy staggered, almost lost her balance. She dropped the sock in her hand.

“Put the boots on, Auntie Wendy,” Stanley instructed. “You know they’ll look great on you.”

She was grinning loosely. She couldn’t help it. “Uhm. Sure,” she agreed vaguely. “Good idea.”

She sat back down on the sofa. She picked up one sock and slowly tugged it over her foot and up her leg. It went up a long way. When she was satisfied that it was straight and smooth she repeated the action with the other sock. Then she pulled on the sexy, chunky-heeled boots. She slid up the zippers on the sides. She got to her feet slowly, looking down at herself.

The socks were crimson. They flowed up her legs to well above the knees, emphasizing her graceful curves. Combined with the scanty miniskirt and fashion boots, they shouted “Look at my legs!” to the whole world. She looked like a teenage hottie on her way to a club, or the kind of pin-up fantasy girl she was sure Stanley could only dream about. She felt her nipples pressing against the confines of her brassiere, inside the tight pullover.

Stanley was grinning. “You feel good now, don’t you Auntie?” he suggested.

Wendy was grinning too. Her eyes were lidded. “Why . . . mmmmm, yes I do. I feel . . . delicious.” She ran both hands down her flanks, over the belt and down her tiny skirt. She giggled in delight.

Stanley explained it: “That’s because you’re a hot babe and you feel hot when you look hot.”

She waved a hand at him. “Oh, the things you say.” She was still admiring herself. The thin red socks were garish and too young for her. The whole outfit was immodest and over-the-top. Yet she did look splendid. She shuffled one foot back and forth, admiring the effect.

“My god you look good, Auntie Wendy,” Stanley said with enthusiasm. “Hey, let your hair down too. It looks better that way.”

“Oh. Well, all right.” She couldn’t think of any reason to object to that. Thinking in general wasn’t a big priority at the moment.

Wendy’s hair was swept up in a simple fold. She pulled out a couple of barrettes. Thick curls of mid-blonde hair tumbled down over her shoulders. She shook her head to sort it out. She fluffed it gently with her fingers.

“How’s that?” she inquired, turning to study her nephew. He was admiring her in a way that made Wendy want to preen.

“Nice!” he blurted. “You have a gorgeous figure Auntie Wendy. And your boobs look great in that t-shirt”

“Stanley!” His crude faux pas shocked her back to reality.

The curly-haired teen was defensive: “Hey, I’m only saying so because it’s true. You have stupendous tits, Auntie.” He paused for a second, considering. Then: “Why don’t you play with them for a bit.”

Wendy’s eyes went wide. “I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed. “Now look here, this has gone about far enough! I am not going to touch myself in front of you!” She drew herself up defiantly, which only made her tits stand out.

“Why not?” Stanley said reasonably.

“Why not? Why not? Well of all the . . . because . . . because . . .” She paused. Oddly, despite her outrage, she had trouble remembering exactly why not. Her mind felt fuzzy. Pretty colours glittered along her thoughts, transforming them into strands of garland. Stanley said it was all right for her to touch her titties so . . . wait a minute! “Because . . . because you are my nephew, that’s why!” She pounced on the concept like she was afraid it would get away. “You are my nephew and I am your aunt and I expect you to behave yourself accordingly.”

Maybe she hadn’t been as forceful as she intended. Stanley seemed unconvinced. “Is that it?” he asked mildly. He fiddled with something on his inducer. “Well, I think you really want to fondle your big boobies but you’re hesitating because you know how much you like it. They’re really sensitive, aren’t they?”

She blinked. “I . . . I don’t think especially.”

“Let’s reconsider that.” He lifted the inducer and pushed the button.

Wendy was floating down an avenue of soft white lights; red, blue and gold flowers drifted all around her. She heard Stanley’s voice. It was gentle and soothing. “Go ahead Auntie. Play with your tits. You know how good that feels. Give it a try.”

Why not? Still riding the inducer rainbow, Wendy reached up with both hands to fondles her tits through the clinging t-shirt. It felt exquisite. She moaned out loud.

“See, I told you that would feel good. You can’t stop now! Go ahead, enjoy it.” Stanley was jubilant.

Wendy peered at him through glassy eyes. She tried to muster a protest. “No, this is so . . . so wrong! I shouldn’t be . . . mmmmmm, shouldn’t be playing with the girls right in front of . . . oh god it feels gooood.” Her dancing fingers refused to stop.

“It would feel even nicer under the shirt,” Stanley supplied.

Her eyes widened. “No! I couldn’t. I . . . shouldn’t. I . . . I . . . all right. Yes. Mmmmmm.”

Without giving herself more time to think about it, she struggled out of the tight shirt. She pulled it over her head and tossed it on the floor. She shook long hair away from her face.

Underneath she was wearing her favourite blue lace bra. It cupped her buoyant boobs like a pair of loving hands. Instantly her own hands returned to loving them too. She fondled her breasts keenly, squeezing the nipples. Another moan escaped her, louder this time. She threw her head back, face flushed, wallowing in the sumptuous sensations.

“Wow, Auntie Wendy,” Stanley cried, “you have the most amazing tits!”

Wendy jumped. She had almost forgotten her nephew was standing right there. Her fingers paused for a heartbeat. “It’s nice to show them off, isn’t it,” Stanley said helpfully. “Don’t you just love fondling yourself in front of me?”

Wendy groaned as the wicked thought hit her. Her fingers resumed pleasuring. Everything had become twisted around backward. What she was doing was utterly wrong, immoral. It felt too wonderful to even consider stopping. Somehow the knowledge that her own nephew was standing there, watching her while she made an auto-erotic spectacle of herself, only made it hotter. The illicitness of the act added another dimension of heat.

“Why don’t you get rid of the bra?” Stanley said off-handedly. “It’s kinda in the way.”

“Yes! Good, good idea!” She was panting now. Impatiently she reached around to unfasten the straps on her bra. She climbed out of the lacy garment and cast it aside. Her nipples were fully distended, red and eager for more hand-play. She indulged them.

Stanley watched her, his own excitement written on his face. He said: “Boy, you’re really getting turned on, Auntie Wendy.”

“Can’t help it . . .(gasp, pant) . . . feels so good!” A sheen of perspiration glinted on her lovely face.

“I bet you’re awfully wet under that sexy short skirt,” Stanley observed.

Somehow, through the four-coloured pleasure pulsing through her brain, Wendy still managed to be shocked. “Stanley! Don’t say things like that!”

“Wellll, it’s true, isn’t it? You’re a hot, sexy babe and you’re getting all turned on showing off your big boobies and playing with them, so of course you’re getting steamy downstairs too.”

“Stanley, honey . . . .no . . . don’t—don’t talk like . . . ohhh.” She flexed her hips in need.

Stanley raised the inducer. “Here, try this,” he said cheerfully.

He pushed the button; the lights flashed. In a few seconds, White, Red, Blue and Gold became the four axes defining Wendy’s happy world. She stared blankly, staggered a little, and caught herself against the side of the sofa. She floated peacefully through la-la land. Her hands continued to adore her breasts.

Stanley said: “I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you use one hand on your titties and one in your pussy? Think how good that will feel! You’re just dying to play with yourself, I know it.”

Wendy looked at him blearily. “Oh, this is . . . this is all wrong,” she whined, “completely wrong . . . utterly . . . perverted . . . and . . . so . . . hot! So hot, so good, so fucking awful good!” While she was debating, her left hand slid down her torso, over her short skirt and up under the hem. She fumbled for a few moments as her hand negotiated a path under her wet panties.

“I’m horny,” the semi-clad knock-out moaned, “fucking horny. No, I shouldn’t be . . . oh god it’s . . . OOOOH!” Her questing fingers found the wet, warm darkness at the heart of her need and dove in. Overcome with pure carnal arousal, she plunged her pussy with one hand while the other continued to minister to her hard-nippled tits. She was quaking on the edge of orgasm, shamelessly fondling herself in front of her teenage nephew.

“Gee, Aunt Wendy, I think you’re going to cum!”

Instantly, she did. The orgasm was intense, wonderful, and seemingly endless. The colours flashing behind her eyes became a cascade of stars as her climax took her. She cried out. Her legs buckled. She sank slowly to her knees on the thick carpet, spasming again and again, each peak punctuated with a guttural grunt of satisfaction.

Finally she came down. She knelt on the carpet, panting. Her hair was in disarray. Her skirt was rucked up around her waist. She let the colours dance behind her eyes.

She had almost forgotten Stanley was standing there until he spoke. “Gosh, Auntie Wendy,” he said, “that was . . . like, intense. Are you all—I mean, wow!” His tone suggested Wendy’s thundering orgasm surprised him as much as her.

He went on more confidently: “I guess you’re feeling really nice now, huh?”

“. . . floating . . .” she sighed. “. . . can’t believe . . . came like that . . . not right in front of . . . all wrong . . .” She tugged down her skirt, belatedly reclaiming a shard of modesty.

“You’re amazing,” Stanley said, sounding completely sincere. “I always thought you were dead sexy but now . . . gee that was hot. Uhm, matter of fact . . . you’ve kinda given me a boner. See?”

Wendy looked. His crotch was at eye level. There was no mistaking the long lump distending his jeans. She stared at his beltline, confused. She was still breathing hard. It occurred to her vaguely that Stanley’s comportment suggested an easy familiarity with sex completely inconsistent with his nerdy, girl-shy persona.

A thin shaft of decency filtered through the colours in her mind. “Stanley,” she husked, “you . . . you shouldn’t . . . not for your aunt . . . no . . . .”

“I can’t help it, Auntie Wendy. You’re a walking wet dream; a total dish, you know? You give guys hard-on all the time—and you love it, don’t you. You’re not going to leave me like this, are you?” He adjusted himself, making her twitch.

His semi-clad aunt looked up at him with unfocused eyes. “What?” was her only response. She fondled one bare tit absently, like she was petting a purring kitten.

Stanley spoke with exaggerated patience: “I’ve got a big hardy for you, Auntie. You should help relieve me. You know, with your mouth.”

Wendy’s beautiful eyes went wide. “With my . . . with my mouth . . . oh you can’t mean . . . No!”

In spite of her shock she was still staring at his crotch. She was bewildered beyond words. Stanley was suggesting preposterous, unthinkable ideas. Yet somehow everything he said seemed to make sense. An air of irresistible credibility accompanied his voice. All his suggestions sounded deeply reasonable, ideas she should believe. Every word out of his mouth came wrapped in sparkling layers of white, red, blue and gold.

At the same time she was keenly aware of the wild inappropriateness of what he was suggesting. It was inconceivable that she would actually, really, perform fellatio on her teenage nephew. But he wanted her too, it was frustratingly hard to remember why she shouldn’t comply—and she was getting turned on again.

The befuddled blonde kneeling on the carpet made a whimpering sound. “No, Stanley . . . I . . . I can’t.” she protested.

“Of course you can,” he replied easily. “Here, let me explain why.” Before she had time to react, the inducer flashed.

Wendy let out her breath in a long, sibilant sigh. She fell back loosely on her ankles. She floated in a dream world of rainbows. Each burst of colour from Stanley’s contraption vaporized another layer of her consciousness, leaving a gaping hole in her mind. Peace and contentment and obedience flooded in like water through a breached dam.

“Hey, Wendy, wake up baby,” someone said, far off. It was Stanley’s voice. It sounded strong and masculine. A voice she would love to obey.

“Hmmmm?” was all she could manage. She looked up at him dreamily. God, he was handsome. “Oh, don’t call me baby. I’m your aunt.” Outlandishly half-dressed, sexed up, and kneeling before her nephew on the white carpet, the bedazzled blonde grasped at fragments of normal behaviour.

“I think we can dispense with the formalities, dream doll,” the slender teen explained. “You really want to suck me off, don’t you? You must still be turned on from all that hand play, and my cock is looking too delicious to resist. See what I mean?” He unbuckled his belt, undid the button on his jeans, and slid jeans and underwear down to his knees. His hardness sprang out like the trunk of a trumpeting elephant.

Wendy gasped. “Stanley! Look at you! You’re hard and big and . . . and . . . but I . . . I . . . shouldn’t . . .” Even as she spoke she was knee-walking toward him on her crimson socks, unable to take her eyes off his erection. She licked her lips. “. . . shouldn’t,” she murmured.

“Oh, never mind about that. Wendy wants a wiggly wang, doesn’t she?” He flexed his knees, bobbing his cock up and down in front of her.

Wendy moaned out loud. “Oh Stanley, noooo,” she whined. “It’s not right, you shouldn’t be . . . mmmmmm, I’m too horny right now. You shouldn’t be . . . . ooooh.” She was kneeling right before him now, her face inches from his crotch. She reached out and gently held his stiff member in both hands. She leaned forward and slid her lips over it. A long, purring “mmmmmmm” sounded deep in her throat.

Slurping and suckling sounds filled the room as she began to suck him with gusto. Wendy was no stranger to oral sex. She knew how to do it right. At the moment she was too overcome with her own visceral need to pay attention to technique. It hardly mattered. Stanley was so pleased he almost dropped his inducer. “Oh shit that is nice. Ohmygod,” he blurted as he watched his gorgeous aunt’s lips slide up and down.

He adjusted his stance so he wouldn’t fall over backward. He lay one hand gently on Wendy’s head, stroking her hair as she stroked his manhood. When he spoke, his voice was broken and distracted: “You know, Wendy baby, I . . . oh man oh man . . . was thinking. . . . you’ve done pretty much everything I’ve asked you to, haven’t you?”

“Mmmmm?” Wendy replied, unconcerned, happily stuffing her throat with cock. She felt a swell of pride that her tongue work was making it difficult for Stanley to speak. Any reservations about sucking off her own nephew had been swept aside by the flood of new ideas he had pumped into her wide-open mind. Still bobbing ardently, she slipped a finger back up under her denim miniskirt.

“I mean . . . uhm . . . I mean, you dress like I want, you cum when I say so, and you give me head any time I want. That’s right, isn’t it?”

Wendy tried to think about that and suck cock at the same time. The latter beat the former in straight sets. “I . . . <slurp lap> . . . this once. . . have to <kiss, slurp> . . . horny . . .”

He shook his head. “Baby doll, you do whatever I tell you. You do what I tell you because it feels good to obey me. That’s why you’re enjoying this blowjob more than you ever have before.”

Well, all right, the booted beauty conceded dimly, as she felt Stanley’s stiffness bulge her cheek. Blowing him was turning her on immensely. No denying that! Still, something Stanley said didn’t scan. “Honey. . . what are you . . . why . . . obey you?” she panted, between lip-strokes.

“I’ll explain that too. Hey, look up here for a minute. That’s right.” The magic lights of the inducer flashed.

For a time she sat there, unmoving, letting the coloured lights reverberate in her mind. At a bit of urging from Stanley she returned to the business at hand. She was almost dreaming now, barely aware of her surroundings. She floated in horny, helpless happiness, content to think of nothing but the yummy big cock in her mouth, the feel of her distended nipples and the wickedly wonderful sensation of her fingers dancing in her cunny. She was skittering along the cusp of orgasm, again.

“Now . . . as I was . . . as I was, oh shit you’re good, as I was . . . saying. You’ll do anything I tell you to do, right Wendy weak-will?”

She let him slip out long enough to agree. “Annnnything!” she sighed. She gazed up at him adoringly. Her fingers stroked.

Her nephew pressed his wet member back into his aunt’s willing mouth. “Oooh, that’s right. Since you . . . ah! . . . do anything I order you to do, you can’t really be my aunt.”

“Mmmmm?”

“Only a slave enjoys taking orders and does absolutely everything she is told to do. You must be my slave.”

Wendy was sucking hard now. She was intent on the reward of a mouthful of jism, and another orgasm, that awaited her. She tried to process the new ideas Stanley was feeding her. She discovered that her lust-saturated mind had nothing left to process with. She hardly cared. Panting for breath, she paused just long enough to agree: “Yesss, sucky sucky slave Wendy, horny little slave Wendy.”

“If you are my slave, then I must be . . .?”

“My master!” It made perfect sense. Anyway, she didn’t have any sober neurons left to form an objection. She ran her tongue deliciously up the length of his shaft. He was twitching now, ready to erupt. “Mastermastermaster,” his sexy aunt purred, “come for me master, come all over your sexy slave Wendy.”

To be sure that he did she dove down on him with renewed vigour. She sucked hard and deep. Her long hair flew about as her head bobbed vigorously up and down. She felt Stanley’s muscles clench, and above her his voice crying out, “Oh god Yes!” He almost dropped his inducer.

Then he was coming, spewing his warm seed into her mouth in a series of groaning spurts. She sucked and swallowed and sucked and fingered herself. Finally she had to let him slip away so she could ride her fingers to her own intense climax. She fizzed and convulsed on the carpet. She closed her eyes and saw stars: white, red, blue and gold.

Eventually she fell back on the floor, happy and exhausted. She lay there for a long time, catching her breath, slowly sliding back to earth. Her hair was everywhere. Her little skirt was pulled up over her ass. One crimson sock was wrinkled around her knee. She was half-dressed, dishevelled and utterly gorgeous.

Stanley was leaning against the end of the sofa. His pants were still down around his knees. He looked slaked. Wendy smiled smugly. She had done a good job.

Her wicked nephew grinned down at her. “You understand my science project now, right little slave Wendy?”

Wendy sat up a little. She threw back her hair with both hands. “It’s a great project, Master,” she said sincerely. “I’m sure you’ll get an A.” She began to carefully pull up her red stockings.

Stanley was buckling his belt. “Oh, I’ve already got an A,” he explained. “Miss Honeywell, she’s my physics teacher, she was very impressed. Especially after I tested it on her.”

Wendy rolled over so she could wrap her arms around Stanley’s leg. She gazed up at him. “You’re so clever, Master,” she cooed. “What would you like slave Wendy to do now?”

Stanley grinned.