Compulsions Ch. 02

"Oh, god... oh, gooodd... John, fuck me, fuck me, baby... oh, god, John..." she cried out in pleasure, as Mike's fingers brought her to an earth-shattering orgasm.

"Oh, god... oh, goddd... John..." she whimpered softly. The whimpers slowly faded off to the sound of sexy breathing.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Adams." Mike said.

Catherine opened her eyes. "Oh, god! Michael, I'm so sorry! I was thinking of him, when I should have been thinking of you!"

Mike shook his head. "No, you did everything right, Mrs. Adams. Now, I'm going to send this video to your email and I want you to forward it to your husband, with a note, to make up with him. When you get home tonight, you and he will have a lot to do. You are going to pleasure him and I am sure that he will do the same for you. You have to get over your problems with him, Mrs. Adams. You have to come together and accept each other, have fun with each other, or you will lose each other forever. Do you understand?"

She looked down and, after a moment, nodded.

"Yes... and thank you, Michael," she said. "I will do as you say... but, John will be away for the weekend. If you want, I would like to thank you for helping me. Helping us."

Mike smiled. "I might just take you up on that offer, Catherine."

-11-

Mike's next class was computer science with Mr. James. After that was calculus with Mr. Lewis. He tried to pay attention in both of those classes. He found it was easier when he didn't have a female teacher to distract him, at least not someone as hot as Miss Mahoney or Mrs. Adams. They had to be two of the hottest teachers in the school.

In no time, lunch rolled around and Mike sought out Miss Mahoney. She was in her office in the east wing. Mike walked down the hallways, amazed at how deserted it was in this section of the building, at this time.

Mike pushed open the door, without knocking, and saw Miss Mahoney at her computer, the image reflected twice in a pair of wire-frame glasses. She jumped when he entered.

"Miss Mahoney. I didn't know that you wore glasses," Mike said.

"I don't, very often. They make me look ugly." She started to take them off, but Mike caught her.

"No! Keep them on. They look sexy, Miss Mahoney," he said, staring at her beautiful face. He had always thought that her brown hair and brown eyes made her look plain, but her glasses provided something to focus on when he looked at her. He had never seen her looking so hot and enticing.

"Michael! You shouldn't use words like that with... with a person in authority..." Liz Mahoney said.

"Are you saying you didn't like the comment? You don't want to be pretty, Liz?"

"Of course, I want to be pretty! It's just that... well... you said, sexy. Not pretty. There is a difference."

"Yeah," Mike said. "One is a B and the other is an A+!"

"Michael! Oh, never mind," she gave up and left the glasses on.

Mike sat down across from her. "You wanted to speak with me, Liz?" he asked.

She was going to reprimand him for using her first name, but she decided to go ahead and let him. After all, he had complemented her. And if there was one thing that Liz really needed, it was to feel desired.

"The other day when we spoke, you were talking about compulsions. You wanted to know about any sort of, um... mind control," Liz asked.

"You found something," Mike anticipated.

"Mind control is the process by which the thinking, behavior, emotions or decision making capabilities of an individual are subverted by another individual."

"Sounds about right," Mike said.

"Right for what?" Liz asked.

"Nothing," Mike said. "Go on."

"It's impossible, Michael."

"I don't think you know what you're talking about."

"I'm telling you, Michael," she said, looking at him with her pretty brown eyes. "It's a myth, like an urban legend."

"What if I told you that it was true?"

"Michael, please!" she laughed. "It's a story. There's no way that something like that is possible. It's completely out of the realm of science. If you think that someone or something is controlling your mind, then you're wrong. You are in control of your own life. No one else. Just you, Michael."

Liz's soft eyes caressed his face.

She really did care about him, Mike realized.

"You misunderstand, Miss Mahoney," Mike said. "I'm the one who has the ability to control minds."

"Michael, you can't be serious!"

She was looking at him with sexy, brown eyes. Mike didn't blame her for disbelieving him. He knew that she was trying to help him.

"Would you like proof?"

Liz spread her hands wide. "Be my guest. I welcome any evidence that leads to scientific enlightenment."

"Alright, Miss Mahoney," Mike said.

Staring into her eyes for a moment, Mike snared her mind with the Compulsion. He could feel her resistance, her will struggling to retain control and identity. She was strong, the strongest mind he had ever felt. For a moment, Mike thought that she would be able to resist him. But then, he had her. Allowing her to retain her sense of self and her memories, Mike took control of her actions.

"Remove your clothing, Liz."

"Is this supposed to be a joke, Michael?" she retorted, as her hands deftly unbuttoned her pants and let them slide down her legs. After a moment, she looked down and saw what her body was doing.

"Michael!" the lovely teacher cried, helplessly. "What are you doing?"

Mike appraised her sexy legs and full hips. Devastating, he thought. Why would she keep those hidden?

"Michael? What's happening? Tell me!"

Mike smiled, wolfishly. "You tell me, Miss Mahoney. You're the expert."

Liz's hands continued undressing. She unbuttoned her blouse next, and pulled it off. Her breasts were full, barely restrained by a lacy, purple bra that Mike thought a woman like her would die before wearing. Twirling the blouse around, Liz threw it at his feet.

"I can't... control my actions..." she said, struggling. Her fingers unhooked the lacy bra and she let it slide off her shoulders, revealing a full, heavy pair of D-cup tits with dark pink nipples. "What have you done to me?"

"Come on, Miss Mahoney," Mike said. "You're a brain. Give me some options, here. And while you're at it, dance for me, real sexy, like."

Liz struggled to think, as her body began undulating to some long forgotten song that she still carried inside of her; her breasts bounced on her chest, her hips moved in time to the music in her head.

"Ah... alright... it could be a... ah, ah... response based upon stimuli that my... ah... conscious mind is unable to register... something causes me to want to act and react in this way... maybe a drug or... ah..."

Cupping a heavy breast in either hand, Liz caressed them, felt them and held them for Mike to see.

"Maybe I'm hallucinating... yes... a hallucination brought about fatigue from too many hours working and studying... that could be it..."

Moving closer to the young man, Liz grasped him by the shoulders and shook her body before him. Her hips and thighs drew a gasp of pleasure from the young man; her breasts nearly caused him to drool with desire.

"I've got it!" the brunette teacher exclaimed, somewhat breathlessly. "My behavior is a result of stress, and my actions are induced by the nervous breakdown that I'm having..."

"Or maybe... I can control your mind," her student said.

"Hypnotic suggestions have never been proven to cause behavior such as what I am experiencing," She replied. She touched his lips, drawing a finger down them and tracing his jaw line.

"Maybe you want to do what I am telling you to do," Mike offered, helpfully.

"A subconscious desire based upon my attraction to you... Yes, that would make sense, if I had an attraction to you, Michael."

"But, you do, don't you, Miss Mahoney?" Mike stared at her. "Haven't you always had an attraction to me? Haven't you always wanted something like this to happen, Miss Mahoney," Mike said. "Isn't it possible that deep down in our psyches, we both do, Liz?"

"I... I don't think so."

"Take off your panties," he ordered her.

"Stop it, Michael! Don't do this! Don't do this to me!" she pleaded, as her body complied, sliding the garment off of her sexy legs.

Mike looked into her brown eyes. "Alright, Miss Mahoney... Liz... if you really don't want this to happen, really, truly, deep down in the bottom of your everlasting soul... then I want you to pick up your clothes and leave. Right now. But if you do want me, come over to me and ride my cock."

Without hesitation, Liz reached out to Mike and caressed his face. Straddling him, she mounted him in one, swift motion.

And he was inside her, his cock filling her, completely, on the first thrust.

"You see, Liz, you do want it," he said, looking into her eyes.

"Oh god, Michael! It's been so long since I had a fucking cock inside me!" She started moving on him, fucking up and down on his cock, her breasts bouncing, heavily, in circular motions.

"I want it so bad. I need a real man to fuck me, baby!"

Mike took her heavy breasts in his hands, squeezing and mauling them, pushing her up and down, aiding her desperate and frenzied fucking motions. Her pussy felt so good, so wet, like a handful of wet silk, gripping and squeezing him, dousing him with her desperate juices.

"Oh, god... I'm going to come, baby..." Liz said, her breath coming in gasps. "I'm coming, baby... I'm coming..." And Mike's teacher exploded, arching her back and convulsing on Mike's young cock. Mike had held off for just this moment and he released his gushing come into his teacher's womb.

"Oh, so fucking hot... you're so fucking hot inside, Miss Mahoney! Yesss!"

"Oh, so good... so good, baby..." She said, sighing, and as she came back down, she met Mike's lips, kissing and tasting him. "Thank you..."

-12-

Mike arrived home, late. His mother's car wasn't in the driveway and he wondered where she was. As he entered the house, he heard a rigging cell phone. It wasn't Julie Winters', the one that Mike still carried in his pocket. Then he saw it, his mother's phone, lying on the kitchen table. She must have forgotten it. Mike picked it up and answered.

"Hello?" Mike said.

"Jennifer Connors, please," the voice was soft, as if whispering.

"She forgot her cell phone, today. Can I take a message?" Mike asked.

"Damn! I had to tell her something," the voice said. "Listen, she had a problem at work, today, with the owner of the bank, Mr. Howard Winters. I heard Mr. Winters talking... about, how... she wouldn't 'perform' for him... and... he's going to let her go. She's going to lose her job! I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

"You mean: she wouldn't have sex with him, and..." Mike asked.

"Yes," the woman said. "I don't know why I'm telling you, this... but I have to get this message to her."

Mike's blood turned to ice, as his thoughts raced.

That pompous prick had tried to get his mother into his bed and when she didn't comply, he was going to fire her? What had she ever done to him? She was always respectful and kind, overly so.

"What's your name?" Mike asked.

"Gabrielle," was the hesitant reply. "Gabrielle St. John."

"Thank you, Gabrielle. I'm Mike Connors and I owe you one. Somehow, someday, I'll find a way to repay you."

"Oh, my god! You're Jennifer's son?"

"Yes. And don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"But, what are you going to do --?"

"Don't worry about it," Mike reassured her. He hung up the phone, grabbed his jacket and went out the door. The Winters house was several miles away, but Mike had enough anger and rage to fuel his run for hours, if necessary.

***

"You have to work? That's your excuse?" Cynthia asked her husband. Her disbelieving voice was full of petulance. "But, we were going to Europe, next week!"

Howard Winters was in his late forties, his dark hair sprinkled with gray. His body was still trim, though, and if his looks didn't attract the line of all-to-willing bimbos that he had affairs with, then his position at the bank certainly did.

Howard sighed. "Plans change. I'm sorry." Howard's eyes drifted to the next room where his daughters sat.

Monica, a blonde-haired bombshell like his wife once was, was a junior in college and home for an extended weekend. She chatted with her sister: slender, dark-haired, exciting little Julie.

Howard couldn't get over the changes in them; they both had grown into women and they both were exceptionally beautiful. He had been bedding Julie for some time, now, and he wondered what would happen if he let himself come on to Monica. He had wanted to, a few years ago, but couldn't work up the courage to ask her or order her.

Julie had made the move on him without any encouragement.

The girls were talking about something. Howard tried to listen in, but he only got the general idea of the story. Monica had led a guy on, some other girl's boyfriend, and was going to drop him pretty soon because his family's pedigree didn't stack up to hers. Howard remembered Cynthia doing something similar a few times. Not to him, though; his father's money had landed her for him. She only cared about the money. Like mother, like daughter, he supposed.

"You don't sound sorry." Cynthia said to Howard's question. She knew that he wasn't. He hated traveling almost as much as he hated her.

Howard Winters was about to retaliate with something profane when the doorbell rang. He gestured to Cynthia.

Cynthia shrugged, and said: "Must be someone for Julie."

Cynthia stood, gracefully. Her long, slender legs and prominent breasts drew Howard's eyes back to her. Even Howard would have to admit that she still had it. She ran her fingers through her silky blonde curls and strutted towards the door. As long as she had that figure, Howard would never let her go.

Cynthia had dressed in a black cocktail dress that she expected to wear to a party, tonight. But that had been 'canceled' by Howard, as well.

Cynthia opened the door and was confronted by Michael Connors. For a moment, she was shaken. She remembered him and what he and his friend had done to her and her daughter, this morning. She felt her stomach sink. What was he going to do to her, now? Her head hurt from where it had struck Julie's and her lips still felt bruised from the mouthfucking he had given her.

"Hi, Mrs. Winters," he said. "It's nice to see you again." Mike brushed past her and entered.

Howard looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"Mike Connors. I don't expect you to know me, Mr. Winters, but you know my mother. She didn't accept your advances and, now, her job is in danger."

"I don't know what you're taking about."

Mike shrugged. "Right. What do I know, anyway? I'm just the guy who fucked your wife and daughter, today."

Howard was stunned. It seemed like forever until he got to his feet. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'd like to invite you all to play a little game with me," Mike said. "Girls, come in here."

Cynthia felt her heart jump into her throat. Everything had changed, everything was going to come crashing down. Her whole life. She watched with disbelief as her two daughters got up and came into the room.

Mike looked at the two, appreciatively.

Monica was 21 years old, a bit taller than her mother at five-foot-eight, and almost a head taller than her little sister. Slim and athletic, her hair was long and straight, where her mother's was curly, but almost the identical shade of golden blonde that Mike had found so appealing.

"Hi, Mike!" Julie greeted him, pleasantly, for a change. Then she turned to her sister, the tall and slutty-looking Monica. "This is the guy I was telling you about," she told her sister, as if he were her best friend.

Howard spoke up. "You get the hell out of here before I break your neck!"

"I don't think so. We're all going to do something interesting. You will all follow my orders immediately and completely and when it's all over, none of you will remember a thing. Except for you, Cynthia. You will remember everything, but discuss none of it with anyone but myself."

And, just like that, he had snared them all with the Compulsion.

It was a tricky bit of work, affecting the thoughts and minds of four people at once, but his recent practice had strengthened his powers beyond anything he had ever imagined was possible. And Julie and Cynthia had been under his charms before. It seemed so much easier to regain control of someone then to initiate control in the first place.

"Now, all of you remove your clothing."

Cynthia watched with disbelief as her daughters quickly disrobed, revealing soft, sleek, nubile young skin. And it wasn't just them. Howard was stripping his clothes off, as well, his cock lengthening to a respectable seven inches at the sight of his naked young daughters.

Cynthia looked down to see her hands working and, then, her expensive cocktail dress falling to the floor. She quickly stripped off her bra and underwear and dropped them on the floor, on top of the dress.

"Cynthia, take a seat over there." Michael pointed. She complied. "Spread your legs, baby." She spread her legs, wide, so that he could see her.

Michael took a seat on the couch and pointed for Howard to sit on the opposite end. "Now, let's see what your daughters have got. Girls, come over here."

Monica and Julie looked at each other and giggled. They slowly swayed over to the couch.

"Kiss your sister," he told them.

Monica pressed her lips to Julie's mouth. Her sister's tongue shot out, to lick across those young, incestual lips. Together, they kissed, ever more passionately until they were licking each other open-mouthed.

"That's enough. Julie, kneel before your father."

Julie glanced at Mike and smiled, happy to obey his every whim. She strutted over and stood directly before her father, then, swiftly knelt before him.

"Julie, take your father in your mouth. Give him your best blowjob."

Cynthia shook her head. She was watching, helplessly, as her daughters did everything this... man told them. What could she do? She couldn't disobey her orders. It somehow seemed like the right thing, to do as she was told. A little piece of her mind screamed at her and she didn't listen. But that piece was her and what wasn't listening was something, someone else...

Cynthia watched as Julie's mouth engulfed her father's engorged member and sucked it inside.

Julie's lips moved on her father's cock, sliding up and down, working to please him, working to please Michael.

Michael watched her, caught her eyes and she seemed to smile around the cock in her mouth. "Monica," Mike ordered. "Kneel to me and suck me. Cynthia, play with yourself and watch your daughters perform."

Monica knelt beside her sister and duplicated her trick, taking Michael's cock and bobbing her blonde head up and down on it.

"Oh, god. Excellent. Lick it."

Monica stuck her tongue out and licked him like a lollypop.

"Long licks, baby."

She took a long lick up the undercarriage of his penis, driving him wild. And another. And a third lick.

Michael sighed, in heaven, and wondered what her throat would feel like. Their eyes met, intensely, and she put her lips over the head of his penis, thrusting her head down and taking Michael's cock deep in her throat.

Michael was stunned. Could she have really responded to his desires? His thoughts? Looking at her, he imagined her gagging on his cock.

She gagged and gurgled on her own saliva.

He imagined his cock deeper in her throat.

She tried her best to cram more of his penis inside her greedy throat.

Michael was ecstatic, nearly delirious with pleasure. His head turned to the side and he saw Julie sucking intently on her father's cock.

Suddenly, Howard cried out and ejaculated his semen into his daughter's incestual mouth.