Tales of an Unethical Hypnotist Ch. 07

"So, we talked about it, and here's your punishment..."

Marsha turned to face Chani as Chani likewise turned to face her mother. Their eyes met, and Marsha then stepped into Chani, tilting her head and reaching up to overcome the couple of inches her daughter had on her.

And, even though Marsha was the shorter of the two, it was clear who was in control as their lips met.

It was something to behold.

When Chani and I had first kissed, I tried to be gentle and caring. I tried to encourage her passion to develop slowly. Watching Marsha, however, it became clear that my efforts were amateur hour. I was no more suave or sensual than a high school running back, as he struggled to remove his girlfriend's bra for the first time in the back of his dad's Buick.

Watching Marsha's lust ensnare our daughter was like watching an artist. Each touch elicited some outward sign of pleasure in Chani, a sigh, a coo, a shudder. Each kiss caused her to melt even further into her mother's arms.

And even as the passion between them rose to palpable levels, they continued their slow, sensual exchange.

I could have watched them forever.

Soon enough though, Marsha began gently pulling Chani, directing and repositioning her, guiding her to sit... in my lap.

As Chani sat, she adjusted herself, nestling into me until I felt something incredible. It was a soft warmth, and it began grinding into the lump of solid granite which had, inexplicably, found it's way into my trousers.

I groaned as my entire consciousness seemed to coalesce around the head of my cock.

As Marsha sat next to me on the couch and resumed her make-out session with Chani, seated on my lap, she purred out, "Easy, Dear. We're teasing him. Don't take it too far. I have plans for your daddy's dick."

Chani, still kissing her mother, made a disappointed groan, but the grinding slowed, then stopped altogether.

As blood—and rational thought—slowly returned to my brain, I managed to say, "Marsha, I'm sorry for not coming to you first. Will you please forgive me?!?" My tone was exasperated, but also a bit tongue-in-cheek. My wife may have been a little annoyed at first. Still, we both knew—by how quickly and eagerly, she embraced this new relationship—that she wasn't genuinely upset anymore. She was just having fun.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this all might be for Chani's benefit. A little demonstration of a woman's superpower. Because, even though men can be big and loud and scary, when a woman turns on the sex appeal, even the mightiest men become putty in their hands.

"Alright," Marsha said. "Punishment's over."

She stood, and taking Chani by her hands, pulled our daughter to her feet before turning to address me directly. "James, I hope you enjoyed part one of our little show because it's going to take us a few more minutes to get ready for part two."

She turned and started down the hallway before abruptly stopping and muttering, "One sec..."

Making a quick detour into the kitchen, Marsha returned with two bottles of wine, the one I had already poured from, and a fresh one.

"I think," Marsha said, "we might need a little liquid encouragement to fully implement phase two of tonight's activities." She gave me a wink, then headed back toward the bedroom with Chani in tow.

While the first waiting period I had endured was only mildly annoying, this one was pure torture. "Phase Two" was shaping up to be even hotter than "Phase One," and phase one was already pretty damn hot.

Unfortunately, this time it took even longer. At one point, I was starting to wonder if maybe they had fallen asleep or something. I eventually called down the hall, "You ladies alright?"

To which, Marsha replied in a slightly irritated tone, "Yes, be patient!"

So, I waited.

Nearly forty-five minutes after they disappeared into the bedroom, both women reemerged. And, let me be the first to say, my patience was fully rewarded.

Last time I had been stunned by the beauty of these two women. This time, I was utterly bowled over by the sheer sexual pageantry.

Marsha wore something that was all leather straps and translucent mesh, including garters and thigh-high stocking (artfully torn, of course). Everything was black, including the "bra" that served to lift and present my wife's ample breasts without covering anything. Her tits were on full display, and they were spectacular.

Similarly, her panties were utterly shear and crotchless. Nothing was left to the imagination, and to my surprise and delight, my wife's vulva was completely bald.

It wasn't just the outfit though, she had redone her hair and makeup too. The makeup on her eyes, cheeks, and lips was stunning. Her entire look was a combination of 80's punk with 90's goth, hard to describe, but hey, Marsha knew what I liked. It had been a long, long time since she had demonstrated her skills in makeup artistry like this. I liked it... a lot.

For just a moment, I was a little concerned. I hadn't seen this side of my wife in a long time, at least since Chani was born. And even back then, she never took it to quite this level.

I could only imagine that the "memories" I had implanted of her early sexual awakening and nurturing had unlocked a new, confident, sexy side of Marsha. So far, this was all working out in my favor...but false memories could be tricky. I'd just have to wait and see.

Then there was Chani, she stood timidly, the sexy antithesis of my wife's confident sluty-punk vibe.

She was dressed in all white, her attire made of the delicate lace that one might envision a bride wearing on her wedding night. She too wore garters and white thigh-highs, but unlike my wife's ensemble, which left nothing to the imagination, Chani's managed to radiate an equal amount of sex appeal without revealing too much.

Continuing the theme of "purity," Chani's makeup was simple—likely deceptively so. It served to highlight her youth and inexperience. A look which was further enhanced by her hair; two long pigtails.

I was still taking it all in when Marsha spoke, "James, please remove your pants and take your cock out. I'm drunk, I'm horny, and right now, I can't decide which of you I'm going to fuck first."

Holy Shit!

So far, this night had been pretty good. By the look of things, it was about to get a whole lot better.

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Hey, Hypno Wolf here. Thanks for reading!

This story includes a fictional portrayal of erotic hypnosis performed by a horrible person in a horrible way. It is FICTION, and I do not condone the acts described in this STORY.

Thanks,

Hypno Wolf