tagMind ControlHypnotist Next Door Ch. 03

Hypnotist Next Door Ch. 03

bySheriffBart©

This is an explicitly erotic tale of mental and physical seduction including themes of incest, non-consensual sex, mild violence, humiliation, and submission.

*****

The next morning was a school day and Mark descended for breakfast. He was confused and annoyed as he got dressed and headed downstairs. Had his mother already forgotten his instructions? It was only yesterday that she had agreed to wake him every morning with his dick in her mouth. After last night's conquest, he figured there was nothing she wouldn't do. Under his hypnotic spell, she'd been an absolute shameless whore with him and his best friend. If she could do that, what was just another blow-job?

He wondered if Dr Morgan's hypnotic magic had worn off. Then he wondered if maybe he hadn't just dreamed it all, it seemed so fucking unreal. It was pretty crazy to believe that his sweet middle class mother had been hypnotized into becoming his submissive bitch, a slave to his horny teenage libido. Oh, well, if it was a dream it was one he'd remember forever.

Then he strode into the kitchen and found his mother standing in front of the sink with her back to him. She was dressed only in her sheer nightie and the garter belt and fishnets she wore last night. He took a breath and let it sink in.

Okay, not a dream. That's encouraging.

She'd prepared a sumptuous breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast and juice. It was quite a mouthwatering spread. Mark couldn't help but think it was a show of gratitude for the way he'd been treating her lately. But clearly she was confused about his instructions. He was determined to straighten that out quickly.

"Mom, I think you're confused about something. Yesterday, at Dr. Morgan's, you agreed to live by my rules. Do you remember those"?

"Yes honey, of course I do." She turned from the sink to face him with a hot cup of coffee in her hand.

"After all the ways in which you took advantage of me, fucking my face before dinner and tricking me into being your friend's bitch, I have no pride or decency left. No shame, no inhibitions. And, as you can see," she waved a hand as a model on a runway showing off her attire, "I'm dressed just the way you stipulated."

What was that in her voice? He wondered. Anger, shame, or a little of both?

"Isn't this what you demanded son? That I greet you wearing a sheer nightie and some stockings?" She smiled an irresistible smile. She could have been a Victoria's Secret model as far as Mark was concerned. Maybe a Plus model with those hips and that big, meaty ass...

"Yes, it is Mom." He stepped forward and took her into his arms, pulled him gently to him, and locked his hands on her derriere. "... but you're supposed to greet me like that, when I come home. Our agreement was that, you would wake me up...with your mouth...on my cock."

Jeanette hung her head quietly for a moment, then walked over and gently put her arms on her son's broad shoulders and looked up at him. "I'm sorry son. I know, or at least I think I know what kind of woman you want me to be, but. You have to remember what Dr. Morgan said. I'm, naturally submissive. I will do whatever you tell me to. And I love it, when you when you force me to, she added in a low, sultry voice. "Like when you pushed me to my knees right here last night and fucked my mouth. But I just can't...initiate anything. I know what you wanted, but I couldn't bring myself to go in there, wake you up and start sucking you dick. I know it must be confusing and frustrating. I think that's part of why your father left, she added quietly before pausing lost in thought.

"So if it's a good morning blow-job you want, " she purred as she reached down and cupped the front of his jeans. "You know how to get it."

Mark released a loud exasperated sigh as he looked down at his beautiful mother. Her large dark mediterranean eyes were gleaming with love and excitement. There was a slight teasing smile on her face. Her high cheekbones wide face and long dark hair made her look like a fashion model, but her full figure, large full breasts and wide hips and big round ass didn't belong on a runway. Looking at her was always a sensual delight, even more so since he'd been given permission to treat her as his bitch instead of his mother. She licked her lips and continued to caress the front of his jeans.

"Allright you little fucking tease," he growled as he grabbed her lower jaw and pushed her backwards toward the kitchen table. "We'll have our breakfast at the same time ."

She gasped as he backed her up against the table, moved his hand to her neck and placed her in a firm choke-hold. Her nipples got hard almost instantly and he pushed her down forcing her to sit roughly in kitchen chair.

Standing next to the table, he reached down and helped himself to a slice of bacon. "Time for your morning sausage, you hungry bitch," he growled. "Now take it out and suck my cock. You've got about...15 minutes to suck me off. Get to it."

She had his jeans open and his dick out in seconds, and before Mark was even fully hard, his mother had enveloped him in her warm wet mouth. He moaned and drank in the exquisite sensation for a moment, before turning part of his attention back to his plate. As he scarfed down the eggs and bacon, Jeanette stroked and sucked his cock in a frenzy, doing her best to get him off in time.

"Oh fuck Mom, you greedy bitch," he gasped between bites. "You make me want to skip school and stay home. I could fuck your hot mouth all day."

She looked up at him and smiling, ran her tongue around the head of his cock as she jerked it vigorously. "Mmmm, I'd love that son. Maybe tomorrow. But we can't have the truant officers come looking for you now can we? Then they'd all want a turn." She sucked him deep into her mouth again as he groaned loudly, imaging the lewd image she'd planted in his mind.

He wolfed down the rest of the eggs and bacon, grabbed a slice of toast and stuck it in his mouth. Then with his free hand grabbed her hair, held her head still and began fucking her mouth hard and fast. She moaned deeply and sucked even harder, hungry for his hot load in her mouth.

She wanted to tell him how much she loved it when he grabbed her hair like that, how thrilling it was when he went crazy and started fucking her mouth, how sexy it made her feel to know she had done that to him, but all she could do was moan and slide her tongue around his invading shaft and try not to gag as he shoved it all the way back into her throat.

Mark finished the toast as his mother finished the last of his self control. He grunted and his knees began to buckle as his cock erupted in his mother's loving mouth. Jeanette mewed with pleasure as she felt her son's cum splashing against the back of her throat and coating her tongue. Slowly, she backed away, until only the spurting head was still trapped between her lips. She tightened her grip and slid her fist up and down the pulsing shaft, milking his cock. Only a few drops spilled from the corner of her mouth as she released his throbbing wet cock and opened her mouth to show him the massive pool of semen swirling around her tongue.

"Oh, you nasty fucking whore," he sighed as he took in the lewd display. He thought again of the hypnotist next door who'd set them on this path and a really nasty idea popped into his head. Just as Jeanette was about to gulp down his load, he blurted out,

"Stop! Don't swallow that yet Mom." Then he quickly knelt, closed her mouth with his fingers and whispered in her ear. Her head dropped and she was instantly in a deep trance. Mark smiled mischievously and gave her a simple command, then zipped up his pants and dashed off to school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Morgan answered the doorbell with the irritation of a person whose carefully controlled schedule has just been interrupted. "Who the hell could that be at this hour," she wondered aloud.

She opened the door to find her neighbor and patient Jeanette Wilson, standing there in her bathrobe, with an odd smile on her face, and a vacant look in her eyes. She recognized immediately that her patient was in a deep trance, acting out a post hypnotic suggestion.

Okay, what the fuck is this about, she wondered. And why is her face wet? Her first instinct was to wake her up and find out what had happened, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"Good morning Jeanette," Dr. Morgan said. "Is something wrong? What can I do for you?"

In mute response, Jeanette lunged forward, took Dr Morgan's lovely face in her hands and planted her lips on hers. As the startled therapist struggled to break the lip lock, Jeanette pushed her tongue into the other woman's mouth and the stolen kiss instantly became very wet, and very messy.

Dr. Morgan broke the lip lock abruptly, grabbed Jeanette by the shoulders, spun her into the hallway and shoved her away. Jeanette's shocked expression lasted only a moment before Dr Morgan's right hand flashed across her face in a hard slap that sent her reeling. Dr. Morgan wheeled and slammed the front door shut, sealing out the suburban neighborhood she'd recently chosen as her new home.

The 5' 4" buxom blonde psychotherapist was already dressed for business, even though she was working in her home office. She wore her trademark dark pinstripe skirt suit, dark stockings, black heels, and a white silk blouse, unbuttoned enough to show a tease of her deep cleavage. She was not a woman accustomed to being interrupted. Being ambush-kissed by a patient with a mouth full of semen was beyond unacceptable. Even if it did turn her on for a second or two. She turned to face her patient.

Jeanette Wilson was Dr Morgan's neighbor, a 38 year old former housewife with long thick dark hair and dark eyes. Her Mediterranean heritage had given her the face of a fashion model, a full curvy figure topped by round, naturally soft 38C breasts and anchored by wide 42" hips, big firm thighs and an ample, round, bottom. This particular morning her figure was easy to see because she'd showed up at Dr. Morgan's front door wearing only a terry cloth bathrobe over a sheer nightgown, a black garter belt and dark nylons.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here Jeanette?" Dr Morgan demanded. The steel and fury in her voice sent a shiver down Jeanette's spine, but she still had a glassy-eyed faraway look of a woman in a trance. "Of Chrissake," Dr. Morgan muttered. .She took a deep breath, and walked over and touched Jeanete's forehead lightly, paused and said, "Trezitiva."

Jeanette's eyes fluttered and she looked around in confusion and panic, then felt her cheek when the sting of Dr. Morgan's rebuke hit her full force. Her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't...I mean, I don't know what..what happened? Why am I here and why did you hit me," she stammered. Then her gaze seemed to turn inward and she swirled her tongue around in her mouth and looked at Dr. Morgan who was wiping something from her chin with a lace handkerchief. "Mark."

"Yes, Mark, " Dr. Morgan replied testily, dabbing the last of his semen from her lips. "Obviously the little shit hypnotized you and sent you over here. What's the last thing you remember, Jeanette?"

"He um, made me suck him off while he was eating breakfast," she said in a monotone, walking her mind back toward the vanishing point. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson and she lowered her head as she reached the next memory. "He uh..he ejaculated in my mouth and..."

"Never mind, it's not important," Dr. Morgan interrupted. "I think I can figure it out. Well, I was a little uncertain about whether he'd be able to put you in a trance. I guess we don't need to worry about that," she continued irritably. "I told him to use that key discretely. I'll deal with him later."

"As for you, my lovely fuck toy," Dr. Morgan murmured as a sly smile spread across her face. "You're going to have to learn your place." She unzipped her skirt and hiked the hem up over her slim hips revealing thigh high stockings, garters, and her uncovered pussy. "The only lips of mine you're allowed to kiss...are these!"

She straddled Jeanette's face and, with both hands in the helpless housewife's long dark hair, yanked her submissive patient's face roughly up to her crotch and began grinding into her mouth.

Jeanette flailed with her arms trying to push away, but her face was trapped hard against Dr Morgan's mound. Her nostrils filled with the musky odor of pussy and she felt soft, small labia rubbing against her lips. Reflexively, she opened her mouth, stuck her tongue out and slid it into Dr Morgan's moist opening. The taste of pussy was new to her and sent another thrill through her body. Her own pussy ached with need and her fingers gave up pushing back against the dominating blonde to stroke her own desire.

Dr Morgan moaned and pumped her mound against Jeanette's face, allowing her just enough room for an occasional gasp of air. "This is where you belong, you weak-willed little bitch," she hissed. "On your knees, serving your master...or mistress. You obviously have some kind of oral fixation. Look at you, finger-fucking yourself like a horny teenager while I hump your face. You're a pathetic little slut who gets off on being force-fed. Ohhhhh yeahhhh...shove that hot little tongue in my pussy, bitch!"

Dr Morgan's thighs began to quiver and she felt the wave building. She allowed herself a broad wicked smile at the thought of gushing all over her plaything's pretty face and started grinding the bud of her hard clit all over Jeanette's lips. She was about to let loose when the sound of a familiar voice behind her hit her like a bucket of ice water.

"Ahem! Is this a bad time to work on the estate papers, Claudia?" said the the deep, resonant baritone. "Perhaps I should come back another time." Lonnie Evans strode quietly but confidently into the front hallway and stood off to the side of the two women so as to get a better view of the lewd activity.

Shit! Dr. Morgan swore to herself. The horny little bitch got me so distracted I forgot about Lonnie. I can't let that happen again. She quickly dismounted from Jeanette's face, shoving her to the floor, and pulled her skirt back down over her hips. In seconds she had regained her composure and looked the cool professional. Lonnie blinked at the transition wondering for a moment if he'd really just seen what he thought he saw.

Lonnie Evans stood just over six feet tall, but looked bigger because of the broad shoulders and athletic build left over from college football. His career on the gridiron had been cut short by injury but he'd become a successful attorney. His shaved head and chiseled good looks turned on lots of women and helped him attract certain kinds of clients. Especially wealthy, frustrated female clients.

"No of course not Lonnie," Dr. Morgan said calmly. "I was just um, dealing with an unwanted intrusion". She finished flattening the front of her skirt as she turned to address her attorney. "Although in present company, I'd prefer it if you used my professional title. I find it's generally not a good idea for patients to become too familiar with their therapist. As you can see," she continued as she gestured toward Jeanette who was trying to cover herself with the robe as she struggled to her feet. "Some of them are quite disturbed and must be kept at arms length, so to speak."

"This is my patient - and next-door neighbor- Jeanette Wilson. Jeanette, this is Mr. Lonnie Evans, my attorney. Mr. Evans has been helping me settle my late husband's estate."

"Your late husband?" Jeanette looked confused. This was the first time she'd heard any reference to a man in Dr Morgan's life.

"Yes, Carl Morgan, the eminent psychiatrist, hypnotherapist, and the love of my life," Dr. Morgan replied coolly. "Dear departed Carl taught me everything I know about hypnotherapy."

If she's a grieving widow, she certainly doesn't show it. thought Jeanette. "How did you lose your husband, Dr.Morgan?"

"It was quite tragic really", Claudia Morgan replied, examining her nails. "A freak accident. I...I really don't care to talk about it. I'm still dealing with his passing. Lonnie, could you?" She looked almost sad, but it could have been some other emotion that fleeted across her face. It passed like a breeze ruffling her perfect mask for a moment, then disappeared.

"Dr Morgan hired me initially to handle her divorce," Lonnie added. "Her husband Carl had built a successful practice in psychiatry and hypotherapy, but, after fifteen years together, he'd become... emotionally entangled with his receptionist and decided to leave Claud—his wife. Late in the divorce proceedings, Carl became excessively depressed, racked with guilt, and committed suicide."

"Oh, that's awful," Jeanette gasped.

"Yes, it was quite tragic," Dr. Morgan interrupted. "Carl couldn't face his guilt and shame over the affair, over how he'd cruelly betrayed and humiliated me. So he went out late one night and...I believe the common expression is, 'kissed a train'."

Jeanette look confused so Lonnie clarified. "Dr. Morgan - Carl- walked onto a train track just as a loaded freight train was coming. There was no way the engineer could stop. It was either a freak accident or a very well planned suicide. Anyway, his widow decided to pick up the threads of her shattered life and of her late husband's practice. That was over a year ago, but, due to insurance investigations and bureaucracy, we're just now finishing up the paperwork relating to the settlement."

Jeanette still seemed to be struggling with the narrative. "But, how did you take over your husband's practice so easily?"

"Well I already had a degree in psychiatry. I'd set my career aside to help Carl get through school and start his practice. After years of pestering, I'd finally gotten him to teach me his methods of hypnosis. He was brilliant. He privately told me he could get anybody to do just about anything he wanted. He'd just finished teaching me his secrets when...when everything fell apart," she added in a trembling voice. Her beautiful facade seemed on the verge of dissolving into genuine grief. "Lonnie could you be a dear and get me a tissue? I think there's a box on the table in my office. I'm just...so-"

"Of course Dr Morgan," he said tenderly. "I'll be right back." He hustled off into the interior of the house.

As Lonnie disappeared around the corner, Dr. Morgan's face hardened and she turned slowly toward Jeanette, taking her chin in her hand. "Yes, poor Carl," she said in a cold, hard voice. "He taught me everything he knew about mind control. Just before he killed himself." Jeanette's eyes widened and the color drained from her face. She started to tremble.

"So just remember who you're dealing with, little housewife mommy-bitch. Forget your place with me like that again and you may not live to regret it." Lonnie's footsteps approached and Dr. Morgan released Jeanette and stepped away from her. By the time her attorney returned with the box of Kleenex, the mask of the grieving widow was back in place. Jeanette watched in stunned silence as she dabbed real tears from her eyes and regained her composure..or changed masks again.

"I'm sorry Lonnie. So, as I was saying, Mrs. Wilson is here uninvited. She seems to have trouble with boundaries. And with respecting her betters. She lives in that nice big house next door, but really, underneath that soccer mom veneer, I suspect she might be more like, what your people would call...white trash."

"That's not a term I use Dr. Morgan," Lonnie said his deep voice hardened by irritation. "And she certainly doesn't seem to be dressed much like a 'soccer mom' at the moment." Lonnie allowed himself to look Jeanette over, admiring her face and figure. He'd always had a thing for curvaceous brunettes. "You said she's...disturbed. Can you help her?"

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bySheriffBart© 2 comments/ 54298 views/ 25 favorites

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