Under Control

I take a long drag on a half-smoked cigarette and toss it to the pavement, watching the rain put it out for me. I look up at the window, but I don't see anything except for light shining out through gauzy pink curtains. If they're having sex up there, it's away from the window at least. There's a little voice inside my head telling me that I'm doing the worst possible thing I can do right now, but I get it under control.

I walk up to the door and give it a hard rap. There's an art to knocking like a scary motherfucker, a quick 'pound the knuckles three times fast and wait' rhythm that gets people jumping to attention. I don't expect an immediate answer, but that's fine. I spend the pause composing my face into a mask of cool, calm, and collected in that order. Whoever opens that door is going to see the face of an alpha bitch. I plan to take charge of the situation from Second One.

The pause is long. I figure Constance is standing on the other side by now. She's probably trying to make me nervous, get me out of my own head and worry about whether she's home or not. She's trying to make me second-guess myself so that she can worm her way inside my head and play on that insecurity the way she did with Martina. But that's not going to happen. I've got this. Constance, Martina, the whole situation. I'm on top of it. I'm not nervous at all.

The door opens. It's Constance. She's wearing the kind of silk robe you don't wear after a bath. The sort of thing you put on to take off. She has a little smile on her face, just a quirk right at the corner of her mouth. When she sees me, she tilts her hip just a little, enough to show off her cleavage where the robe is coming apart a tiny bit. "You must be a friend of Martina," she says. Her voice is husky and rough, and it's hard not to notice that her hair is tousled like she's been grinding it against a pillow. "We haven't--"

I can tell what she's trying to do. I don't let her. I brush past her and head for the stairs. I don't knock her over or anything, but I put enough force into it to make it clear that she's better off if this doesn't get physical. She looks like she works out, but probably some shit like yoga or Pilates or spinning or something that works on 'tone'. Probably never thrown a punch in her life.

I don't really want it to get physical either. She's too rich and I'm too Latina to get into a fight in this neighborhood. But I want to keep her thinking about it that way, because it keeps her off balance. The longer she worries about what I'm going to do to her, the easier it is to keep the situation under control. "Martina!" I shout, as I take the steps two at a time. "Martina, it's me, Del!"

Constance hustles up the stairs after me. "I'm not sure what you think gives you this kind of license," she says, "but if you'd like me to call the police, I can certainly--"

"Go ahead," I say dismissively. I don't even bother looking down at her. Partly because I don't want her to see my eyes when she says that, but she doesn't have to know that. "We can all march right the fuck up to your bedroom together."

That shuts her up. She must know she fucked up somewhere, because she doesn't say a word while I open up doors one by one. She looks a little nervous now. Probably wondering what I know and how I know it. People like her always think they're so sneaky, but when you spend all day every day knocking on doors and talking to people, it's not hard to hear about someone who stops coming home for days at a time. I think of Martina's mother, worried fucking sick about her daughter's grades slipping and her scholarships drying up, and Miss Constance Danforth, making all sorts of big shiny promises she'll probably forget about in a year or two when she gets bored of her exotic dark meat. And I think maybe I won't mind throwing a punch or two after all.

I find the right door on the third try. Martina's lying on the bed, naked and spread-eagled. She's drugged or something. Her eyes are rolled all the way back in her head until only the whites are showing, and her jaw is slack. She's drooling a little out of the corner of her mouth. I don't see her clothes anywhere. I head over to the bed and try to help her sit up, but...

Grabbing her arm is like yanking on an iron bar. I mean, I work out. I spend all my free time in an old-school gym, the kind of place that stinks like years of sweat and has punching bags that are always fraying at the seams from hours of use. But when I pull on Martina, she doesn't move at all. Her whole body is rigid. Her muscles are like rocks. She doesn't respond to me calling her name at all. It's like I'm not even there.

I tell myself this is just part of Constance's weird trust fund bitch games. She probably told Martina that this was cool rich-person shit, the good stuff you get prescribed by your personal physician. Maybe she said it would make the sex better. Maybe she said it would help Martina study, and the sex came once she was out of her head. It's just one more reason to get her out of here and away from Constance. Everything's still cool. I've still got the situation under control.

From behind me, Constance says, "Come back, pretty girl." And suddenly Martina opens her eyes the rest of the way. She looks at me, and I can tell it's the first time she's noticed I'm even there. She kind of squirms a little for a second, covering herself up...but she's looking right past me the whole time she's doing it, and after a couple of seconds she sees something that makes her relax a little. Her arms drop to their sides, her legs relax a little. She just sits there on the bed, looking like any college kid except for the nudity.

"Oh, um...hi, Delfina," she says. She doesn't sound drugged. A little confused, maybe, but not drugged. "What are you doing here?" She's naked on the bed, her hair plastered to her skin, her whole body drenched with sweat, smelling like crazy hot pornstar sex, and she acts like the weird thing is that one of the women from her neighborhood dropped by.

"Looking for you," I tell her. "Your mama's worried sick about you." I put a little scold into my voice when I say it, but it's hard to look stern when you're trying real hard to stare anywhere but at the naked girl on the bed. Why can't she hide under the covers or something? Jesus fuck. What a fucking time to finally notice that Guadalupe Rivera's little girl grew up in all the right places.

"There's nothing to worry about," Constance says from behind me. I try not to flinch. I almost forgot she was there, I was so busy not looking at Martina. Or not not looking at Martina is more like it. Hard to stop staring when her pussy is right there and I can smell it from where I'm standing.

I get my libido under control and turn on Constance. "Nothing to worry about?" I say. "I talked to her school, she's missed practically a week of classes already. Maybe you can blow off a year or two of college doing drugs and fucking your girlfriends, but Martina's on scholarship. She can't afford to let her grades slip."

Constance doesn't look as nervous anymore. "I think you may have the wrong idea, Miss...Delfina?" she says. She makes it sound like she barely caught my name, but I can tell she's paying real close attention. "She's not doing any drugs. Everything we've been doing is entirely natural, and done with Martina's full consent."

"Bullshit!" I snap. I can tell I'm losing my temper, and instead of fighting it I channel it. I don't have to keep calm. I just need to not do anything stupid. "I saw her, she was fucking out of her goddamn mind a few minutes ago! You trying to tell me that she just 'naturally' nods off like--"

"It's true," Martina interrupts. Her voice is quiet. She sounds like she's at confession. I turn back to her. She's looking down at the bed, she won't meet my eyes, but she keeps talking. "It's not drugs, any of it. And I gave M-Miss Constance permission. To hhh...to hypnotize me." She's not nervous, I realize. She's horny. Just talking about what they've been doing in the bedroom is making her wet. It's hard for her to say anything about it without diddling herself right in front of me.

Fuck. I did not need to think about that. Goddamn. I never thought about Martina like this. I didn't think about her much at all, she was just Lupe's kid and she was always in school or working her summer job when I came over. Besides, she's eight years younger than I am, she's not nearly femme enough, and until this afternoon I thought she was straight. I run that through my head again, just to make sure my pussy gets the idea.

"I'm sorry about the grades," she says, sounding like she expects a good spanking. "I'll be more careful, I promise." Like she wants one, even. I remember that twenty-seven ain't that much older than nineteen. And she sure looks femme enough when she's naked. And I know for a goddamned fact right now that she ain't fucking straight.

"See?" Constance says from behind me. She sounds like she's over her shock and ready to kick my ass to the curb. "She and I just got a bit carried away, that's all. The sort of thing young lovers do all the time. I'll make sure she's...very focused on her schoolwork in future." Martina's pussy twitches at that. Actually fucking twitches like there's an imaginary cock in there. I let slip a little gasp before I get myself back under control. Shit. Fuck. Didn't want them knowing I was a dyke. Fuck.

I decide to turn it all right back into anger, spinning around again to confront Constance--but when I do, I almost fall over I'm so surprised. She must have taken off the robe when I wasn't watching. Just let that silk hit the floor like a whisper. She's wearing something else silky underneath it, the kind of sexy shit that costs more the less there is of it. Judging by what it covers, it probably cost her more than I make in a month.

And goddamn if she isn't pushing all my buttons too. She looks femme as hell in her little pink panties. It's making my fucking mouth water. But I'm not here for sex, I tell myself. I'm here to keep Martina from winding up working three jobs to make ends meet like her mother. I push my desire into a little box and get my mouth in gear again.

"Hang on," I say, jerking my eyes up from Constance's big curvy tits. "She said you hypnotized her. How can I trust that she really gave you consent for anything? Maybe you're...fuck, I don't know. Brainwashing her or some shit. Like you're going to make her quit school and be your sex slave or something."

I don't like the look in her eyes when I say that. She hides it pretty well, but she's at least dreamed about it. And by 'dreamed', I mean 'daydreamed'. And by 'daydreamed', I mean 'thought about it while jilling off'.

Out loud, though, she just says, "Hypnosis doesn't work that way. Martina is still in there, even when she's very deeply entranced. She's just relaxed and happy, and she allows me to guide her when she's in that state. Here, let me show you." She snaps her fingers. "And drop."

I turn back to Martina. She's still sitting up, but her chin is resting on her chest and her shoulders are slumped. Her legs have fallen open a little more. It's pretty easy to see that she's leaking onto the covers. I squeeze my legs together a little, just by reflex. Fucking hell. I should not get this turned on by something I'm supposed to be pissed off about.

"See how happy she looks?" Constance says from behind me. I can hear in her voice that this is getting her hot too. I bite my lip, knowing she can't see it. I have to stay focused. I have to stay in control. Cool, calm, collected. I can't let her get to me. But... "That's the gift that hypnosis brings. All those distractions melt away, leaving only that blissful surrender behind. When I trigger her trance, she finds it so easy to focus on my voice and my will and obey. Even when her eyes open, her vision is locked and focused where I direct it. Isn't she so beautiful like this?"

I keep my mouth shut. I'm not giving her the satisfaction of a 'yes', and I'm not a good enough liar to make a 'no' convincing. I know what silence sounds like right now, though.

"And come back to me, pretty girl," Constance says. I watch Martina raise her head, lift her shoulders. But her eyes don't quite come back into focus the same way they did last time. She's not as far back as she was. "See? It's just like I said. Nothing at all to worry about. We can turn this on and off anytime."

She snaps her fingers again. "And drop." Martina sags backward, slumping into a lazy flop onto the bed. "Just like that. She's very responsive, and it makes her feel good to respond to my voice and my commands. That kind of pleasure doesn't harm anyone, does it?"

I still don't say anything. I can't. I can't even turn and look Constance in the eyes right now. I know my mask is slipping, and watching Martina melt into this soft, submissive rag doll is making it slip further. But I'm only fucking human. And she's so fucking sexy.

"It's very sexual, this pleasure," Constance purrs. Her voice is closer to me now, but I can't turn around. "When hypnosis is combined with erotic submission like this, the effect is so much stronger. It's so much easier to sink and stare and obey. You can see how easy it is for her to give in and follow my commands. Playtime, pretty girl."

Martina's hand bobs up into the air. It drifts slowly to her pussy, and she begins to rub her clit over and over in tiny circles. I can't stop watching it. I've never seen a woman look hotter masturbating. She looks like the only thing she can think about right now is playing with herself. My fingers twitch in sympathy, but I fight the urge to play along with her.

"Totally focused on pleasure," Constance whispers. I feel the heat of her body against my back. She's not touching me, but she's so close. "Lost in dreamy, hypnotic bliss. No thoughts at all. So totally blank, so open and receptive to my words, and it feels so...fucking...good." Her breath is warm and gentle in my ear. I can't help shivering a little. I know I have to get my sex drive back under control, but it's so hard with a floor show like this going on. Goddamn. God fucking damn.

"But she's still in there," Constance says, suddenly matter-of-fact. Like we were just talking ethics all along, and none of this was her teasing me with Martina's sexy body. "She's not doing anything she wouldn't do if she were awake--just watch. Come back to me, pretty girl."

Martina's eyes flutter open again, but her fingers don't leave her pussy. She arches her back and moans, a low guttural grunt of pure need. "oh, oh fuck," she whimpers in a tiny voice. My clit is aching just watching it. When Martina starts frantically fucking herself, it's all I can do not to join her.

"And there you go," Constance says. She's close enough now that I can feel her nipples pressing into my back. "She's entirely safe. She's enjoying every moment of this time with me. She just enjoys being deeply hypnotized, letting herself go into a blank, obedient trance and focusing her attention where I direct it. Just like this." She snaps her fingers again and says, "And drop," and I feel my brain give a little lurch. Like that feeling you get when you're falling asleep and your body jerks. That last little twitch that wakes you up for a second before you go all the way down.

Martina goes all the way down. Her fingers don't stop pumping, but her body goes limp and her whimpers turn into soft sighs. "It's okay," Constance whispers. Her arms slowly curl around my waist while she talks. "You can watch. I can tell that you're enjoying this. You don't have to be ashamed. Just look at that beautiful wet pussy. It's so sexy to stare at that hot, slick, dripping cunt, isn't it?"

I feel Constance's hand pressing against the crotch of my jeans. "Yes," I whisper, the last of my self-control deserting me. I'm totally focused on Martina's pussy now. My eyes are locked on it. I can't look away. And it feels so good. So. Fucking. Good.

"Focused completely on her cunt," Constance coos, her fingers kneading against my pussy lips. I'm so wet right now. I can feel the fabric of my jeans getting damp. "And there's nothing wrong with that, because all this is about is pleasure. So much pleasure. So much arousal. No thoughts, no will, no resistance. It feels so good to give in to that desire and let everything else slip away. Melting into blank, mindless obedience for me. You can see now how good that is, can't you?"

I almost fight it. When I realize what she's really doing, my mind balances for just a second on the knife's edge of hypnosis. I almost snap out of it. But then her other hand finds my nipples through my shirt, and the pleasure distracts me for just a second. And then her hand undoes my fly, and she finds my clit through my soaking panties. And then she whispers in my ear, "You'll get to taste her..."

And I'm gone. My eyes roll back in my head, and I moan, "Yes," like it's the only word I can remember. I sag in her arms, but she's ready for that. She guides me to the bed with words I don't even remember, and when I finally sink to my knees it's on the soft mattress with Martina's pussy right in front of my face. The scent of it wafts up to me and I can't stop drooling.

Constance tells me it's okay. She says I don't need to think anymore. I don't need to resist. I don't need to fight her. Everything she tells me is true, and I'm totally comfortable with all of the things we're doing. Martina's safe, I'm safe, we're just happy to surrender and go blank and let the pleasure take over our minds. It's all going to be just fine. I feel my mind going still as my thoughts smooth over into trust and compliance, and it's just wonderful.

By the time I finally get to lick Martina out, she's a sticky, sloppy mess. My face is smeared with her juices, and my senses are totally saturated with her taste and her scent. It makes me weak with desire. Constance tells me I'll always remember Martina's pussy in the back of my mind, whenever I think about resisting. I nod helplessly. Everything Constance says makes so much sense right now.

Constance puts on a strap-on and begins fucking me, pushing my face into Martina's pussy while she pounds my dripping cunt. "You're my slaves," she reminds us with every thrust, the words pumping into me just like her cock. "You're my slaves, you're my slaves, you're my slaves." I moan into Martina's clit, she moans loud into the sex-soaked air. Neither one of us cares what the words mean. We just agree.

I cum three times before Constance finally lets me slump onto the bed. I've never felt this helpless in my whole life. My mind is a fog of sex and submission, my body is soaked with sweat and trembling, and my cunt is still clenching around the memory of her cock. Constance pets us both, and Martina mewls like a little kitten in pleasure. So do I.

"Good girls," Constance purrs. "My good girls." It feels like an inescapable truth. All I can really hope for now is that she's going to be kind to us, because I don't think I can escape this any more than Martina could. Constance has us both under control now.

She snaps her fingers. "And drop," she says. Even though I'm already hypnotized, the sound echoes through my mind and I sink into oblivion under her control.

THE END