tagMind ControlMy Four Aces Ch. 01

My Four Aces Ch. 01


Chapter 1: A little mind-altering action ensues when Paul decides to use a mysterious powder on new girlfriend Kim.

When Kim just dropped by out of the blue, I knew something was up.

Kim and I had only known each other a few weeks, gone out a few times. She was a freshman theatre major, smart and cute as all get out. It was her demonstration of Scottish folk dancing for her more inebriated friends that caught my attention from across the room at a mid-term party in O'Fallon House, where most of the upper-classman theatre types lived. She finished a series of steps that impressed the hell out of me and gave a little curtsy to the applause of her friends while managing not to spill a drop of her beer. Then she glanced up to see me watching. She looked me dead in the eye and executed a very dancer-like spin move that flared her skirt up and ended with a flourish, beer still unsloshed. I was in.

I worked my way over, struck up a conversation and we quickly discovered we had a lot of common interests, though not many common acquaintances. Unusual for a small college, but it explained why we'd gone half a semester without ever running into each other.

After a few dates, I could tell she liked me, but I didn't know it was serious enough on her part to drop by on a rainy Sunday afternoon. This twist meant things definitely looked promising for a deepening of our relationship. She was standing at the sliding glass door to my bedroom on that not-quite-as-warm as usual Florida December day, drenched to the bone and shivering. Those big eyes had a language all their own and they were speaking right to my hardening dick.

"Can I come in?"

Nothing against Kim. She was very bright....but, excuse me, what a STUPID question! When you're a nineteen year old heterosexual male and there's a five foot two inch, ninety pound, extremely feminine female with big brown eyes and roiling brown curls to match standing in soaking wet clothes at your door, looking at you with a plaintive and ever-so-slightly wanton look in her eye, what are you going to say?

As it turns out, not a damn thing. I just opened the door and Kim walked in. We kissed warmly. I was glad to see her, although I did have my heart set on watching the playoffs. My team was in for the first time in while. Quite a while. Seemed like a big deal...but not nearly as big as what was about to start.

She explained that she'd been driving in the neighborhood, doing some errands, when the storm hit. It was one of those Florida frog-stranglers that usually come only in the summer time, but all the lightning and the hard and heavy rain--so heavy, she couldn't even see the road--had frightened her. She knew I lived nearby, so. . . .

"I hope you don't mind?"

Can you believe a girl who could recite Shakespeare like a Ph.D. and had the scholarships to prove it could ask so many stupid questions?

The thunderstorm was passing by quickly, as they are prone to do in Florida, but Kim was still shivering in my arms as the pre-game show droned on in the background.

"I'm cold. Do you have something I could change into?"

"Sure . . . ummm . . .I don't think any of my pants will fit you." She was tiny. Maybe a 22 inch waist. I'd never seen her nude, but knew she had great legs - one of the first things I'd noticed about her, while she was doing her Bonnie Lass routine at the party. Plus, she favored sun dresses and short-shorts in the summer, which is nine months of the year in Florida.

"I've got some t-shirts and an old robe." I secretly hoped she go for the robe. I'd had it since junior high--a blue velour thing with gold trim. Tacky, but the thought of seeing Kim in it....

"The robe sounds good."

A quick trip into my closet and she was trotting off to the bathroom to change. I must admit, I was nervous. I wasn't a virgin, but I was never completely sure of myself around girls. Women. It wasn't until I felt like I was in control somehow that I relaxed at all. There's something deep, dark and Freudian behind that, I suppose. Not enough attention from mom, too much conflict with dad - whatever. Maybe it was a mild thing that could have gone another way if I'd been more successful with women in high school. If that's the case, then it was really kicked into overdrive when my heart was broken by Susan, this stone-cold bitch who'd dumped me the hard way just before school started, not even four months ago. In any case, it was still just a mild psychosexual kink that, at age nineteen, wasn't all that big a thing. Nothing permanent or irreversible or anything. I was just going to make sure I knew for sure a girl was really interested before I made a move. Avoiding possible humiliation seemed to make good sense at the time.

Of course, I wasn't thinking about any of this. I was thinking about the game I'd been planning to watch, alone, and Kim's sudden arrival and her seeming willingness and the fact that she was going to walk out of that bathroom in a few minutes with a robe I hadn't worn since 9th grade clinging wetly to her petite frame.

I think that's when the thought of the Q'injo powder came to mind. It had been sitting in my kitchen cabinet for a couple of months, ever since Jim Choi, a Korean-American guy I hung out with all last year gave it to me as a "thank you" for getting him a date with my ex-girlfriend Susan's best friend, Elaine.

So, there was Kim, in my bathroom. Changing clothes. Putting on a little blue robe I knew would catch her about mid-thigh. And it suddenly dawned on me that Jim had given me eight doses of Q'injo powder, which he claimed, "will make any woman yours."

I remember I'd laughed at him when he said it. "Yeah, right!"

"No, really, Paul. It's true. This is an old family recipe handed down from generation to generation for who knows how long--and it really works. You remember my fiancee, Xian?"

I remembered. You don't forget a woman that beautiful, especially when she is plastered to a friend, attentive, adoring and utterly devoted, as she had been the last time I saw Jim, six months before. I knew she was in town with him this time, too, but off spending time with his family today while we got together.

Jim was lying on my sofa drinking a beer and dangling this little grey cloth packet in my face. Since it was the four or fifth brew of the evening and all I was staring blearily at was a little grey cloth packet sealed at the top with a bit of black ribbon, it was hard to take him seriously.

"Xian is mine because of Q'injo. My dad saw I was in love with her when we were eighteen and gave me a sample of the powder. He said he thought her genes would be a good addition to the family pool."

I can't remember what I said, but it wasn't dismissive enough to get him to stop conning me, because he continued.

"First off, Q'injo's the only true aphrodisiac in the world. Women get very hot once they've taken a dose and I've never met a woman who wouldn't fuck the first guy they laid eyes on after they got some--but there's more. It's a hypnotic drug too and no woman can resist the power of the man who has given them the powder - if he knows how to influence her."

As I stood there, looking out the rain and listening to Kim in my shower, all the details he told me about the poweder came back to me: how to sprinkle the Q'injo one pinch at a time into any liquid (preferably non-alcoholic), how to "watch for her eyes to go soft" about ten minutes after consuming the last of the liquid and how, after that, "your every touch becomes hypnotic, your every word an irrefutable verity to her open and receptive mind." (Jim could wax verbose at any minute after the third beer.)

"Of course, the trance is only temporary--lasts around half-an-hour--but, if you use the opportunity correctly, you can place some really powerful post-hypnotic suggestions. And here's the kicker--within the first hour after consuming the powder, the woman will become a willing and obedient slave to the first man whose semen she tastes."

"What do you mean, she's going to turn into some submissive little zombie if she gives me head?"

"If you want that, yes--but all it really means is, she's addicted to you. Your pheromones, your cum or something. In my family's experience, the high of being with you becomes like the best sex-and-romance high ever and the withdrawal of being without you is worse than heroin and nicotine withdrawal combined. Nobody we know of has ever detoxed from this one."

And then Jim got really serious, which almost made me believe him.

"It's a big responsibility. You want to make sure you're careful who you hook into you like that, because she won't be going anywhere and you can't just abandon someone to an addiction they can't shake. The consequences get a little messy, if you know what I mean."

Back in my bedroom, with Kim singing to herself in the shower, my disbelief warred with my dick. Would this really work?

My conscience niggled. What if it did? Was it right? What would I do if it didn't? What would I do if it DID?!

I had a sudden image of that scene from Animal House, where Pinto sits on his bed, a half-naked teeny-bopper unconscious beside him. A Devil and an Angel are perched on either shoulder and the little devil exhorts him to, "Fuck her! Squeeze her tits!"

The Angel's argument is somewhat less memorable.

I headed toward the kitchen, stopping at the bathroom door.

"Kim," I shouted over the rushing shower, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Ooooh, I'd DIE for a Diet Pepsi!" came the reply.

A few minutes later, Kim sat curled beside me on the bed sipping her Diet Pepsi. I was stretched out, watching the game and glancing, without much attempt at concealing my interest, in Kim's legs. The robe was even shorter than I'd imagined it would be. It dropped maybe two inches below her butt.

She finished the drink in short order, belched in a modest, ladylike fashion, and slid down beside me. The first quarter was half over and my adorable little brunette was purring quietly into my ear, her leg hitched over mine, her fingers knotted loosely in my chest hair. And then, she started working her way down, her fingers sliding lightly over my skin and her tongue darting into my ear.

I silently praised Jim Choi as the bestest friend a man ever had and swore that, somehow, someway, I'd repay the favor. But I knew I had to be careful. I couldn't let her taste my semen until the drug had worn off. I didn't want to make a permanent slave of the girl. The clock on the bookshelf beside the TV registered eight minutes since Kim had finished her Pepsi and those last two minutes dragged by like fat joggers toting lead weights and running through waist-deep molasses.

Kim sighed softly and I turned my head to look. Those buttery brown eyes of her were soft, unfocused.

"Kim," I said, deciding to test this right away and trust that I wasn't going to come off as a complete idiot when she slapped me and ran screaming from the room, "I want you to listen to me. Only to me."

"Yes," she muttered. Her eyes never wavered.

I hit the mute button on the remote. The football buzz stopped. I didn't want any distracting messages getting programmed into her subconscious.

"You're slipping into a deep trance state, right now. As I caress you and undress you, you will go deeper and deeper into this trance. As you become more aroused, my words will sink more and more deeply into your subconscious. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Paul. Deeper and deeper." My cock was already hard as stone just listening to her. It was about to get better. I'm not sure where I got the balls to try this out so early in the process, but I just had to.

"I'm going to give you a trance phrase now, Kim. It's a key phrase and you will remember it without ever thinking about it. Whenever you hear my voice say the phrase. . ." I have to admit I hadn't completely thought this through. The excitement of the moment had fogged my planning abilities. But then I looked over to the table where my buddies and I had been playing poker late into the previous night and had an idea.

"Whenever you hear my voice and ONLY my voice say the phrase ÔSlut-of-Hearts,' you will return to this trance state." I hoped the drug would work like this. Jim said I could plant post-hypnotic suggestions, but this seemed a little like asking the genie for extra wishes. Still, it was worth trying.

"Yes, Paul. Slut-of-Hearts."

I started, very gently and slowly, to caress her hair and face as I looked more and more deeply into her eyes. And as my hands slowly wandered over her body, loosening the knot that held the robe tied at her waist, sliding that same robe open and breathing lightly on her rapidly hardening nipples, I started talking. It was as if I'd rehearsed the spiel a dozen times, as if my subconscious had known all along exactly what it wanted to say to a woman in this situation.

"Kim, you trust me completely. You know that I would never do anything to hurt you or ask you to do anything that would harm you. You have complete faith in any idea that I introduce to you. And you are happy to tell me the truth about anything that I ask. Repeat to me what I just said." And she did, almost word for word. And as she did, I gently licked her right nipple and she sucked in her breath and squirmed upward just the tiniest bit, forcing me to take that tasty little bud a little deeper into my mouth.

"Now....tell me, do you play with yourself?"

"Yes. Sometimes."

"And when you do, what do you think about? What are the sexual fantasies that help you to get off?"

Even though she spoke clearly, I could see a little flush creep up her chest and into her neck and cheeks.

"I think about...about showing off to men. About wearing a short skirt and no panties in a crowded place, like the mall or the supermarket, and letting men get a glimpse of my private place. Or wearing a loose blouse and bending over so they can see my little titties. I like to think about my daddy catching me being such a bad girl and spanking me."

"Your daddy?"

"Not my daddy daddy. My boyfriend. I think of him as ÔDaddy' in the fantasy. I always cum when I get to the part where he takes me over his knee and spanks me for being bad."

Well, this was useful intelligence. I figured it would be wise to build on this.

I spent a few minutes deepening her trance. Since I'd introduced the idea that, the more aroused she got, the deeper her trance would become, this was a pleasant job. I kissed her breasts and neck more and more fervently and her breathing grew deeper, her little moans of pleasure more insistent.

"I'm so wet down there," she murmured at one point. Sounded like an invitation to me. I untangled myself from her arms and hair and neck and nipples for a brief moment, looked down past that flat tummy to those perfect legs and saw the damp spot on her panties--cute little cotton things with daisies on them, by the way.

"Do you want me to take your panties off, Kim?"

"Oh, yeeeesss!" she gurgled.

"Well, I will," I said, teasingly, "but first, I want you to listen some more." And as she listened, I began to caress her legs, working my fingers lightly up her thighs, nipping occasionally at her toes and using the tongue when I was between thoughts.

I told her that I was her "Daddy" now. I was the boyfriend in all those fantasies and I was going to make them come true--but in order to do that, I needed her help.

"You're my little girl and I'm you're daddy. You'll do anything to please your daddy, won't you?"

"Yes, daddy, anything!" Her gasps and pleas were getting more insistent by the minute, but I still had a ways to go.

"I don't want perfect obedience, though, because daddy likes to punish his little girl now and then for being bad.

I think she had a mild orgasm when I said that. She stopped breathing for a second and her clenched shut eyes popped open while her hands dug even more deeply into the mattress than they had been. The muscles in that taut stomach rippled.

I had a few surprises in store for her, so I wanted to build this idea structure carefully.

"When you wake up, you won't remember any of what I've said to you since you finished your Pepsi. All you'll remember is that we made long, slow, fabulous love. You'll feel more relaxed and happy than you've ever felt about being with a man before. Then, over the next few days, things are going to change for you very profoundly.

"First, from now on, the sound of my voice arouses you. When I touch you, you feel it in your nipples and in your pussy. You'll gradually realize that, the longer you listen to my voice, smell my skin, feel my hands touch you, the more aroused you become and you will always try and find ways to please me, so that I will please you. When I bring you to orgasm, it is always intense and deeply satisfying.

"Other men may excite and arouse you, but they just don't do it for you the way I do. If I ever permit you to have sex with other men, the orgasms you experience with them will never equal the ones you experience with me.

"Second, you sexual fantasy life will start to be consumed with me. When you play with yourself now--and you will start to do that more and more frequently in the days ahead--my face will be the face of Ôdaddy' that you see. My hands will be daddy's hands, pulling you onto his lap and reddening your bad-girl bottom. These fantasies will begin to invade your day-to-day life more and more as we continue to see each other over the next few weeks.

"You'll also really start to enjoy wearing skimpy, revealing clothes." The truth is, Kim was already something of a tease, but I wanted to clear out the shame and guilt and help her to revel in her exhibitionist tendencies. She'd certainly never gone as far as I was going to push her. "You will gradually throw out anything in your wardrobe that I don't approve of and only buy those things you're sure will please me and make it fun to tease other men with. The first thing you're going to get rid of is all your underwear. You can replace your old panties with thong underwear, but you won't buy any bras." Frankly, she didn't need them. She had the sweetest little set of small tits I'd ever seen. A bra wasn't support on her, it was concealment--and she wasn't going to be much into concealment from now on.

"Soon, you'll begin to ask me if you should wear underwear or not for a specific occasion. In the meantime, you'll start to find excuses to show off some of your assets, in just the way you've always fantasized. You won't go any farther than flashing a little tit or showing some leg and maybe some panty." But since she'd soon be wearing only thongs, a few guys are going to get some good looks at that tight little ass I was kneading with my left hand.

By this time, she was panting, "yesdaddy, yesdaddy, yesdaddy" very quietly as I brought her closer and closer to orgasm with my fingers. Her clit throbbed under my touch and her mound was soaked with her own juices. I knew that I needed some relief myself, but I wasn't quite finished. Since anticipation was more than half the fun, I decided to build some anticipation for myself into the idea structure I was implanting. Total control just didn't appeal to me. No surprises. I'd be bored in a week. With that in mind, I continued.

"Again, these changes will take place over the next days and weeks as we grow closer, spending time together more regularly. You'll discover yourself more and more hooked on me and on what only I can provide. You will be submissive, but not dependent. It gives you great pleasure to submit to me, but it is not your only pleasure. I don't want you to abandon your personality entirely to my whims. You will always be distinctly Kim, with your own ideas and opinions, your own goals, desires and ways of doing things. . . your own ways of getting what you want. This will make your daddy very happy, even when he's mad and has to punish you."

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