What We’re Thankful For
The nice thing about living in a city is that people are always home. You need not go far to find people. Such is the beginning of my Thanksgiving tale.
I was bored, as I usually am. It is hard having my power and not to be. You see I can alter minds. Warp them to think how I want them to think. It is both liberating and a curse. I am god, and the devil. Okay. Mostly the devil. But I digress.
I was walking down the street one crisp day and it just so happened to be Thanksgiving. I noticed a family sitting down to lunch. Or maybe it was dinner. What do you call it when you eat at 2:30pm on a Thursday? That meal.
As I said, I was bored so I walked up to the house and rang the bell. Westminster Abby chimes. How original.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” a middle aged woman said as she opened the door. She was wearing an apron that had a picture of a cooked turkey on it. The words “gobble, gobble” were under it. Charming. “Can I help you?”
“Hello!” I said, feigning warmth and caring. “Sorry I’m late!” A look of confusion settled in on the housewife’s face. I quickly tapped her mind and put it at ease. I am Mort, the trusted, most best friend of the family, who is always late to gatherings. And she was Dolly, the host of today’s, uhh, meal.
“Oh Mort, we were just starting. We thought you’d miss dinner.” Ah, dinner. Dinner is had, at 2:30pm on Thursdays. I stepped inside and took off my coat, but left on my shoes. Don’t judge. Floors are dirty.
People often wonder why I go through all the pop and circumstance when I alter people. I mean, I don’t need to say anything. I don’t need to guide people to see thing the way I want them to see things. I could just look at them (actually, I don’t have to do that either), and think how I want things to be and there it is. Well, I like to think of it as LARP’ing. Look it up.
Dolly led me into the dinning room and introduced me. “Mort is here everyone!” Cheerful as ever. Everyone turned and stopped in mid-conversation. The father (I assume he was the father, as he was at the head of the table) started to get up and object, but I set the family straight. I did a quick flex of my brain muscle, and connected myself to everyone present. The father, Ted, sat back down and smiled.
“Mort, you’re always late. One day, you’ll be on time, and I’ll be shocked into a heart attack.” Ted chuckled at his joke. I know. I didn’t think it was funny either.
I surveyed the room. Dolly took her seat next to Ted toward the head of the table. Across from Dolly sat Susan, their daughter. Susan looked to be in her early 20’s. She had shoulder length hair and a pretty decent body, though she wasn’t showing it off. A pity. She could be a walking wet dream if she wanted. Blemish free face. Pert breasts and I could tell she had a thin waist with slightly flaring hips. Delightful.
On Susan’s right sat Molly. Molly was similar to her sister, except her hair was short. She too had a pretty face, though she looked tired, more mature. She was probably in her late 20’s or even early 30’s now. Unlike Susan, Molly had huge breasts. A quick glance off to Molly’s right showed she had a little one in a cradle. Hence the endowments. I could tell she was wearing a very constricting bra and top to keep them in check. She was a bit chubbier than her sister. But that comes with the territory when you start pooping out kids.
Across from Molly, at the other table head, was Steve. Steve was Molly’s husband. He looked boring and bored, what else is there to say?
And finally between Steve and Dolly, was Eric, the youngest. Molly, Susan, and Eric were clearly siblings. By the family dynamic Eric was probably 19 or 20, but he looked much younger. He didn’t have much of a frame. He could probably pass for an underclassman in high school. Eric was very interested in his phone. Kids and heir electronics. Probably tweeting about how many peas were in the dish next to him.
At any rate, this was a problem, I had no place to sit.
I walked up to Steve and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Steve, ole chap. Why don’t you go for a walk. Leave your keys and your wallet here and head west. Stop when you need to, but keep chasing that sunset until you find a nice beach. You can chill there for a while. It is your dream to live next to the ocean.”
Steve blinked a few times. He took out his wallet and keys and handed them to me. He leaned over and kissed his wife’s, Molly, cheek and announced his departure. Without hesitation he put on his coat (for the record, he already had his shoes on. I told you not to judge) and bee-lined to the door. And like that, he was gone.
I sat down in Steve’s seat. Molly now thoroughly confused and mortified practically screamed, “What the hell? Mort! Why did Steve leave? I...I...What-” I cut her off.
“It is okay Molly.” I stroked her emotions. Calm washed over her. “You don’t care that Steve left. He was just a guy. Someone you all knew from a while back and nothing more.” Visible calm returned to the family. Eric never looked up from his phone. I don’t get this generation. They are oblivious to the world, but as long as they get 3 stars on those damn Angry Bird levels, I guess it’s all right.
“Why don’t we go around the table and say what we’re thankful for,” I suggested.
“What a wonderful idea,” Dolly said. “I’ll go first. I’m thankful for our home.” Dolly smiled. I’m pretty sure she would pull a muscle if that smile ever left her face.
“As well you should be Dolly. You do an excellent job keeping the home clean and taking care of its residents.” I was now tapping into the memory center of everyone’s brains. Time for some tweaking. “You must be the best housekeeper and caretaker this family has ever seen.”
Dolly’s smile faltered. No muscle strain. I can’t always be right. The rest of the family’s brows furrowed as well. After all, their minds were trying to reject this outlandishly wrong statement. All except Eric. Facebook statuses have to be updated hourly, after all.
“Dolly isn’t the housekeeper, Mort. You know that. She isn’t some paid help, she’s my wife and the kid’s mom,” Ted said with a curt nod. As if it was said and done.
“No Ted. You have it wrong. Everyone probably does. Dolly is your housekeeper. She cleans for you. She cooks for you. She is your live in maid, servant and for all intent and purpose, slave. If you asked her to help dress you, she would. If you told her to shave her head, she would. If you wanted a quickie, she’d be on her knees with no complaint. She is the family’s tool to use however they need her. She’s almost not even human in your eyes. She’s ever present, attempting to anticipate your needs before you knew about it.
“Isn’t that right, Dolly? You’re not their mother. You’re not Ted’s wife. You’re here to keep them happy in every way. You address the family as master and mistress. You never make eye contact, and never question what is asked of you. Your joy is derived from the collective joy of those you serve. Namely the bunch at this table.” Dolly vacantly and slowly nodded her head as the words settled into her mind. They coated her thoughts like a thin film that coats dry cheese dip.
The rest of the family seemed to get it. No one so much as looked at Dolly now. Some small talk erupted between Molly and Susan. “I...yes. I don’t know what I was thinking. Dolly is our live in sla- servent. Speaking of which, why are you siting with us? Please remember your place.”
Dolly realized she was sitting at the table now that the haze was waring off of her mind. “Yes, master. I’m sorry master, I don’t know what came over me. Please overlook my infraction, sir.” Dolly stood up and pushed in her chair. She moved to the wall behind Ted with here eyes cast down.
Ted spoke again. “Serve us our meal.” It was not a request.
Dolly, after a quick curtsy, sprung into action. She began distributing the food laid out on the table. Once done she also refilled glasses and left the room to check on dessert. No one noticed when she reappeared and stood in the corner waiting to clear or refill food and drink again.
“What are you thankful for Ted?” I asked ,now that Dolly had properly found her new roll in life.
“Well, I’m thankful for my beautiful and loving wi-” Ted made a gesture to where Dolly was sitting minutes before and stopped short. Confusion sprang up in his mind again. Luckily it was just his mind. “-fe.”
“That is wonderful Ted. But shouldn’t you be addressing Susan when you talk about your wife. No one is sitting to you left.” I had to press this into his brain a bit. Ted turned his read to look at his daughter Susan. A blank stare returned to Ted’s face.
Susan sat up straight as realization sank in at what I just said. “Mort, that’s not very funny. That’s my dad. He’s not married.” Her mind erased Dolly as her mom and Ted’s husband completely.
“No, Susan. Ted is your husband. You are his wife. His trophy wife to be exact. I mean, you are about half his age after all. He clearly married you for your body.” Did I mention how perfect her body was? Unbelievable. “He means the world to you, but you’re always worried about losing him. Therefore, you always want to look your absolute best for him. You must show off your physical attributes every waking hour of every day to keep him interested in you. Nothing he asks or suggests is outside the realm of what you would do for him.”
“Ted is my husband?” Susan asked.
“That’s right.”
“I showcase my body all the time. I never hold anything back.”
“Very good.” And now for a few remaining items. “And being so focused on your looks and all that, you never really developed your thought process. Growing up, your physical appearance was always number one, so things like school and complex thought never really took priority. You’re not dumb, but a bit on the unrefined side. Big ‘college’ words never made it into your vocabulary. Things like complex problem solving and politics is beyond you. Slang words are always used over more proper words. It is just fitting after all.
“Also, you’re always a bit on the horny side and love to tease. You’re pretty much ready to go on a moments notice. You find that you’re pussy is almost always a little damp in anticipation of what might come. Ted is your man and you stay true to him, but he isn’t always going to be around to satisfy you. You’ll have to find others around the house to amuse you when he isn’t around, won’t you? Perhaps someone closer to your age?” Susan’s eyes darted to Eric and her tongue quickly licked her lips. After all, why not? Eric was age appropriate. She was his ‘mom’ and that means she’d be there to ‘help’ him in times of need.
I shifted my attention back to Ted and the rest of the family. My connection to their though process allowed me to see that everyone engrained this as fact. Ted looked at Susan with hungry eyes, dinner almost forgotten. He was, however, disappointed at her garb presently. Eric actually stopped tweeting his favorite word (it is flubber by the way. Eric’s favorite word, is flubber), and put two and two together. He knew that he’s have to be on guard against this sexy minx of a mom when his dad wasn’t around.
Ted spoke. “Honey, could you go get more appropriately dressed?” Ted’s hand was rubbing the inside of Susan’s thigh. “You’re choice of clothing today is drab at best.”
Susan paled slightly. She hoped she didn’t offend him too much. She had it made here, and didn’t want to mess it up. She excused herself and went up to her (now new) bedroom. As she left I pressed into her memory center of the things she liked to wear for Ted and anyone with a set of eyes. Camisoles, corsets, waist cinchers, hip hugging jeans, skirt, any thing low cut. I could feel her become frustrated up in the master bedroom. Of course. She was going through Dolly’s clothes. Nothing would fit or be “age appropriate” there. She noted that she needed a whole new wardrobe.
I nudged Susan to look in her old room where she was able to find something barely passable. Nice hip hugging jeans and a form fitting tube top that exposed her mid drift. Susan left her bra on the floor. She slipped on 3 inch high heels to accentuate her legs and applied a liberal amount of make up. She also put on some flowery perfume before coming back down stairs.
Susan re-appeared swishing her ass as she walked into the room. She gave eyes to Ted as she walked behind me, though as she sat down, she ensured Eric had a view of her cleavage. She smiled devilishly at him across the table. I heard Eric’s boner hit the bottom of the table. The bowl of jello jiggled. God’s honest truth. Suddenly his phone was forgotten. Now who will watch “animals being dicks” on YouTube?
“Now that that’s over, what are you grateful for my dear?” I asked Molly who didn’t really know what to make of the scene that just played out. Meanwhile, Ted and Susan scooted as close as they could without being in each others lap. Susan was being discrete, but I could tell her left hand was expertly at work under the table. After a few minutes Ted told Dolly to get him a new napkin. She did and proceeded to pat Ted down. Gross.
Molly, oblivious to what her, until recently, sister and father were doing answered, “I’m thankful for my baby. What a blessing. I love all he’s given me.”
“I know what you mean, look at how big your boobs are,” I commented.
“Mort, that isn’t what I meant. I meant-” I cut her off.
“Sure it is Molly. I know you love and care for your baby, but you have to admit the perks that came along with it were what you were really after. You love the new size of your boobs and the extra sensitive nipples you now have. Those were the real goal here. The kid was a bonus.”
“I...I guess so. I do like how big they’ve gotten. They are a bit inconvenient at times though. They get in the way-” I cut her off again.
“That’s just because you aren’t supporting them the right way. I bet you’re using maternity and nursing bras, aren’t you?”
“Well, of course, what else would I wear?”
“See that is the issue. You should be wearing shelf bras, silly.” I smiled. Smiling makes it fun! “Shelf bras with low cut t-shirts. Preferably light in color and on the thinner side. That way you don’t need to go through all that hassle when you need to breast feed. You need only pull down your shirt under your boob and you’re ready to go.” I was making this up as I went now, watch out.
“I. I don’t know. That doesn’t sound like a good idea.. I mean, I’m good about pumping, but you can’t avoid some leaking at times. Without a proper bra...” She trailed off. How amazing would that sight be? A breast feeding mom wearing a shelf bra, thereby thrusting her breasts out as far as they could go, nipples leaking milk into a thin, stretched out t-shirt. Anyone would be able to clearly see her nipples as the damp material clung to her breast. The fabric would be stretched out from all the tugging. Anyone that got a halfway decent angle from above would have a clear nipple shot. The worst anyone would say is that she was leaking a bit too. The rules are different when one is breast feeding. She’s be constantly embarrassed when out in public.
“Oh Molly,” I responded, stroking her mind a bit. “Don’t be so silly. You love your boobs. If the only problem is they are in the way at times, you need to support them the proper way. It’ll give you more confidence. Plus, with your sensitive nipples, normal bras will probably irritate them something fierce. This way, they are a bit more free and won’t chafe.” But they will be constantly erect and making you horny, as your shirts gently rub them, I silently sent onto her brain. They would be impossible to miss. I pushed an agitated state into her head. She started to fidget in her seat.
“I just...” Molly trialed off as the agitation settled in further. “I guess you’re right. I’m just not supporting them right.” She reached up and adjusted her bra and boobs. She let out a frustrated sigh. “You are definitely right.” Molly went back to fixing her support, ultimately giving up and taking off the bra under her shirt and slipping it out through the sleeve. Her cotton top was now in direct contact with her skin. Instant pleasure emanated from her nipples as they hardened making small nubs appear to the rest of us. She smiled and let out a sigh of relief.
I noticed that Eric was enjoying the show as well. He was uncomfortable as hell between the glances his new ‘mom’ keep throwing to him and sister’s unflattering adjustment and ultimate removal of her chest’s undergarments. His eyes were fixated on her slightly noticeable nipples, hands in his lap unconsciously adjusting his manhood.
Susan spoke up. I had forgotten about the other end of the table. “Molly, I saw a bra upstairs before that would probably help. It’s in my room, but it doesn’t fit me...I’m not sure why it is there actually, but you can have it.” Susan, as well as Ted stood up.
“I’ll help her find it,” Ted said. The renewed bulge in his pants implied what he was going to help Susan find. Together they went upstairs. Shortly thereafter, a lot more noise than required to find underwear pulsated from the master bedroom.
“Molly, did you say you pump?” I asked. Time to put a bow on this situation.
“Yes, of course.”
“I hate to say it, but that’s horrible for you and the milk your baby drinks. I think you’ll have to deal with whatever the body produces.” Even I have to admit, I have no idea where this was coming from. But I ran with it all the same. “If you pump, you run the risk of not having enough when your baby is hungry.”
“But they’ll get so full. I’ll leak constantly. My little one can’t eat all I produce.” Panic was settling in. How could she face the world? Time to add a little bit of ‘logic’.
“Well, that is what family is for right? To help out those in need? I bet Eric could help.” I heard Eric gulp. He’ll be doing that a lot soon, I think.
“How could Eric help?” Molly was genuinely interested.
“Well-” I stopped as Susan re-entered the room. That was fast. Susan was now glowing a bit.
“Here you go honey,” Susan warmly said to Molly. “Lets see if it fits.” Susan handed Molly a wired shelf bra as promised. It was clearly made for lingerie. It was black and red with a bit of lace. The material was firm and designed to put what it held on show. Sexy? Yes. Comfortable? No. But to Molly it would be heaven.
I ensured that the remaining people in the dinning room were okay with Molly changing in front of them. Family is family after all, kind of. Molly slipped out of her shirt and put on the bra. There was a brief conflict in her mind as her body tried to tell her that this in fact was not comfortable, but my programming won through. In the end she smiled and sighed again.
“I also found this up there that sounded like something you would like.” What a sweet girl, I thought. She handed her a v-neck baby blue t-shirt. It was a bit threadbare, and probably something, until moments ago, regulated to sleepwear. Molly took it happily.
“Oh, sweetie this is great. This will be so comfy. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Molly squeezed Susan’s hand a bit before sliding the shirt on. Molly visibly relaxed as she sat back down to the dinner table. The shirt fit a bit snug across the chest. It had a neckline, that in combination with her newly donned underwear, produced a wonderful display of cleavage. One could faintly see the outline of her areolas through the thin stretched material. What you had no trouble seeing were Molly’s nipples. They were on full display almost tearing through the material.
Susan sat down next to Eric and scooted her chair so she was intimately close. She waived an empty wine glass in the air. Dolly diligently came by and filled it. Susan took a long sip, leaned back, and lightly toyed with Eric’s hair, with her left arm. Eric, meanwhile, was scared stiff. His ‘mom’ was openly flirting with him. His sister was practically in full view. And he was rock hard. This wasn’t right, but he was too scared to do anything about it.
“Now then, what was I talking about?” I asked no one in particular. “Ah yes, how Eric can help Molly out since she won’t be pumping anymore.” Once again, Eric gulped. This time it wasn’t from my comment. Susan had whispered ‘Do you wish I had tits as big as your sister’s?’ into Eric’s ear. Poor kid.
Molly slouched in her chair a bit overly content. The thin material was doing a wonderful job of slightly rubbing her nipples as she breathed. I could feel her fire start to burn a bit. With me recently removing inhibitions a bit everyone was putting how they felt out there in near full view. She spoke. “Yes. How can Eric help?”
“Well, Eric loves boobs, you see. They are his favorite body part on a woman.” No need to tweak his mind, they already were. “His fantasy is sucking on them.” Instantly it was. “Since you shouldn’t pump for the baby’s health, and your baby can’t keep up with your production, it is only natural for you to ask Eric’s help. He can drain them when they get too full.” As fate would have it, Molly’s shirt darkened over her right nipple. The moisture caused the thin material to cling to her breast. Eric’s eyes were glued to the spreading spot. “And it works out because Eric loves milk. He drinks it anyway, might as well be yours.” Eric was suddenly thirsty.
I stole a glance at Eric. He was breathing heavy. Behind him Susan had leaned in close to him. Her wine glass was empty and on the edge of the table. She was still toying with his hair, but she now placed her right hand on his thigh. Her thumb slightly caressing the fly of his pants. Susan then leaned in even closer and whispered, “I didn’t know you liked tits so much. Mine aren’t as big as your sisters, but I bet they taste as good. I may not be able to give you a drink, but I can find other ways of quenching your thirst.”
Eric was pale as a sheet, almost shaking. This was his mom saying this to him! He worked his mouth, and after some time he spoke. “You...you’re leaking sis.” It was almost a squeak.
Susan looked down and blushed furiously. God, how embarrassing, in front of her family. “I’m sorry. It has been a while since the little one fed, and he’s sleeping. Eric,” she hesitated. “could you help me out? I can’t pump. Can you drink some of my milk?”
Eric looked at me and swallowed. “Uhh.” His voice cracked. “Yea, sis. That’s what family is for.”
He somehow willed himself to stand up and kneed down to Molly’s right. Susan, meanwhile, heard some noise from upstairs and with a mischievous grin silently left her step-children alone. Eric looked into Molly’s eyes, a bit of terror showing. Molly smiled re-reassuringly. Eric’s gaze fell back to her breast as she pulled the neckline down under her right breast. There was a small tearing sound as some of the neckline gave way. The shelf bra was now in full view as was a bead of white substance on her nipple. Molly placed her left hand behind Eric’s neck and gently pulled him into her bosom. Eric’s hot breath caressed her nipple further and Susan shuttered. She then pulled a little harder and Eric took the nipple into his mouth and started to suck. Molly moaned immediately as a wave of pleasure puled through her. Eric taking the queue started going to town. He sucked her nipple in earnest, drinking the milk and rolling his tongue against his sister’s nub. There was no holding back now.
Molly moaned openly loving every second of the attention her nipple was getting. After a few minutes, this proved too much for Molly. She pushed Eric away and exposed her right breast with another audible ripping noise. She then grabbed Eric by the back of the head with both hands and forcefully shoved his face into her left breast. Eric hungerly drank what he was given like a wild man. It wasn’t long until Molly was grunting like a beast as she climaxed. She then released Eric’s head and exhaled slowly. “That’s Eric. I appreciate you helping out like that.”
Molly covered her breasts back up by releasing the material from under her boobs. They returned to their original shape, but the neckline was permanently stretched out. The shirt no longer rested against her chest, as the neckline fell a bit away. If I were standing up, I could see straight down the loose neck to her left nipple. The right side of the shirt still held enough form to cover up the other. Molly gave no indication that this was a bad thing scooped up her now awake son.
“Come on baby. Let me show you to your new room. We’ll be moving back home. It is time for you to eat, you must be hungry.” Molly walked upstairs to her old room and fed her baby, feeling the fire start to burn again.
Eric, overwhelmed and still rock hard, sat down on the floor. His eyes were wide and his head spinning. He looked up at me searching for something to say. I just smiled at him and gave him a wink. “Enjoy.”
And with that, I left this very thankful family to their own devices.