Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.
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Young Peter Hegde was bored. While most of his friends were sleeping in or out hiking or biking on this summer Wednesday morning, he was sitting in an empty waiting room at a medical clinic. How in the world could there be a wait if he was pretty clearly the only person there? Petey was an active guy, and it was a 50/50 toss up whether he would have been still sleeping at this hour or out with his friends rock climbing or hiking or biking a trail at one of the parks around the city. This summer, especially, was a summer they were all out having fun. It was the summer after high school graduation, and while 18 year olds such as himself couldn't hit up most of the clubs (being 21 and over as a rule), they could strike up day time music festivals, the parks, and play pickup soccer games.
After working hard all through high school to get into college (with a little boost from legacy status), Petey was eager to blow off steam. That also included being a little bit of a youthful seducer, taking girls out from not only his graduating class but also the year below (and one gal who was a sophomore!). He had done most of the usual sorts of dates: Olive Garden, movies, walks in the park, some outdoor concerts and movies sponsored by the city council. The vast majority of the dates had ended up being fairly chaste--some making out and some grabbing of booties, one over the shirt chest grab--but Petey certainly bragged to his friends about doing much more. In reality, the most he could say that had happened was that one sophomore reaching up the leg of his shorts and tickling the tip of his cock through his underwear. Given her boldness, Petey was eager to arrange another date with her, and it probably wouldn't be too difficult.
His father was a fairly handsome guy, and his mother had been a pretty good soccer player back in high school and college. His friends regularly teased him about his hot mom, and his gal pals also threw in remarks about his father giving them mustache rides. Petey did his best to brush those comments off--no Freud or Oedipus for him. His father had given him a pleasant walnut complexion in his skin, a very thick head of dark hair, and a decent bit of height at just under 6 feet. His mother had given him a pair of strikingly green eyes, full lips, and--Petey didn't know it--a mole on his left buttcheek just as she had.
They were good parents, and despite stereotypes, not overly aggressive with school and grades. Sure, they expected hard work and success, but they didn't shame Petey for any time he came up short. They wanted him to feel ok with mistakes, as long as he used them as growth and learning opportunities. Their own successes had taught them the value of that. Petey's parents had met in college, and his mother had a fairly successful consulting business while his father had grown a chain of car dealerships. They had married not long after his father had opened his second location, and even though they had important careers, they always made sure that at least one parent was at each of his soccer games and swim meets.
He planned on continuing swim with his undergrad, and that family material success was the reason why Petey found himself bored out of his mind in the waiting room. He needed to have a physical done for a life insurance policy his parents were having put in place for him, something in case an accident happened in the pool or just one of those freak things that occur to young, risk-embracing adults. Maybe they had had nightmares about him rock climbing or mountain biking? Petey had brushed it off for the first half of summer, but his father had chewed him out last week about taking care of things in a timely manner. Thus, here he was.
It had been a somewhat chill morning, so as any teenager would do, he wore a hoodie...while simultaneously wearing shorts. His mother had clucked her tongue at him as he left with a coffee in hand, and she had insisted he step back into the kitchen so she could bend his head down and kiss his forehead. As he drove to the clinic, he figured (and quite maturely, he thought) it was a good thing he had a younger sister to keep his parents busy while he was off at college.
In the reception area, the lone nurse at the clinic looked over the day's schedule. The morning was going to be dull. Tasha had already examined her first appointment, a fellow getting a physical for his commercial driver's license. She had put all of her sass on for that appointment, as his company required yearly physicals for insurance purposes, and she had had him for the past four years. He was a charming enough sort of fellow--but married. She didn't care for married men hitting on her, but it was flattering. The years weren't falling away, and while Tasha made a point of hitting the gym five times a week, there was no denying that her 30s were rapidly coming to an end. Unlike some of the new hires in their 20s whose tits needed no bra to stay bouncing and perky, hers were starting to fall. She was having to be careful with her diet. Pizza was once a month, now. Thankfully, wrinkles were few and far between. She laughed silently to herself when her eye caught her reflection of her pleasantly curving 5' 5" form: black don't crack. Exfoliating and hydrating, that was the secret.
So, let's see who is the next appointment this morning until the afternoon, she thought to herself pulling up the next chart. Oh, a young guy...18, a little older than her daughter. Life insurance physical. 'Peter', eh? She subtly paced by the reception window while pretending to look over the chart to get a view of him. At that moment, Petey was yawning and stretching, most of his muscles stretching tightly, his shirt and hoodie riding up his tummy to expose the gentle curves of his abs and linguinal cut, the short hemline of his gym shorts riding up to show the tight muscles of his thighs. Tasha found herself wondering about the bulge she saw in his lap and then blushed as she realized where her thoughts were turning. Was it boredom? Or was it that it had been over a year since she had had an honest to god man between her legs and not some vibrating gadget?
She tapped the eraser of her pencil against her mocha lips as a wicked thought came to mind, and her racing thoughts turned to the schedule: no one else was due to come in until after lunch. There was a lot of free and empty time this morning that she could expect to be uninterrupted. And he was such a sculpted slab of young man in her clinic...and he was probably naive...
Tasha shook her head and decided that while she would enjoy herself, she wouldn't be wicked. No, leave that to fantasies.