This is a pilot episode for a possible full-length novella. I decided to place it in the 'Mind Control' category although I could have chosen BDSM or Non-Consent or perhaps even Erotic Horror, if it develops in that direction.
*
I awoke to soft lips and a moist mouth steadily suckling my dick under the sheet. It was a Saturday morning and I'd woken earlier, before drifting back into one of those deep, delicious, dream-filled sleeps you can enjoy at the weekend.
I smiled and stretched lazily. The sheet fell away, revealing the blonde head of our new neighbour. My morning wood was sawing her mouth. Her head moved up and down on my stomach. She was fully dressed.
At least, she was 'fully dressed' in the manner of a hotel chambermaid, with stockings, mini-skirt and a tight top. It was the uniform she wore round to our house to do our housework and chores, and to provide us with other services. I shifted my head on the pillow so I could look down and enjoy the view.
Her name is Ellie and she's 23. She recently married Bob and they moved into our neighbourhood 3 weeks ago. The house they purchased next to ours seems cursed in some way. It's changed hands ten times now in less than two years. Bob and Ellie were thrilled at how reasonable the price seemed for such a great starter home.
Ellie is a really pretty 'girl next door' type; honey blonde, busty, leggy. She has that creamy, pale skin that suntans, super white teeth, and a cute button nose. She had a couple of boyfriends before Bob but he's her first and only true love.
"Mmm ..." I groaned appreciatively.
Ellie's oral skills have improved a great deal recently. She's learned to butterfly her tongue and lips and to control her gag reflex. I knotted a handful of her soft buttery hair in my fingers and twisted her face up to look at me.
Her blue eyes looked up into mine. She was wide awake but wore this glazed expression. The spark in her eyes was bright, yet somehow inert.
Ellie carried on sucking me, her eyes fixed on mine, tongue slurping my shaft.
I lay back deeper into the pillow and shut my eyes. I could feel the load building in my balls, that tightening in the thighs, my ass muscles clenching.
Suddenly I sensed someone else in the room. I blinked open an eye and saw Samantha grinning down at me. She was dressed to go out, face made up, hair set. She gave me an amused and encouraging nod.
Ellie's cheeks flushed in what might have been anger. Her glassy eyeballs had registered Sam's presence. Ellie could tell I was about to hose her larynx with my morning brew.
"Yessssss ...." I gasped, as I reached that magical point of no return. I let go of Ellie's hair and grimaced, doing my best to smile up at my wife at the same time.
Jet after thick jet of jizz pulsed out of my dick. It's like I've had some spell cast on me. I produce about a half a pint of semen on a typical morning. I'm not exaggerating. I mean it. Half a pint. Not just that, but it's unusually thick and lumpy, like a bowlful of creamy porridge. Only one special woman has ever been able to swallow every single drop down.
Ellie's pretty forehead crumpled in distaste, like she'd sucked a lemon. Her eyes narrowed and her throat gulped. Inevitably, she gagged on the huge quantity and the pearly excess streamed from the side of her mouth and out of her nostrils.
Sam nodded approvingly and turned in a businesslike manner.
"Peanut's driving me to the shops, darling. I'll be back for a late lunch. Bye."
I proudly watched my missus sashay out of the bedroom. She's hundreds of years old but doesn't look a day over 30. Her body is the same as it was before they burnt her at the stake in 1681. Better, in fact.
I looked down at Ellie and winked. That left us several hours quality time alone together.
*** *** ***
I admit it, when I discovered my girlfriend was a witch, I was spooked. I met Samantha at university. She was there studying Psychology and was in the academic year above me. I'd heard she was kind of weird, although she looked hot. She was an elegant honey blonde, with bewitching green eyes and a beautiful face. She had a pert nose that she had this habit of twitching.
We married within a year. I was just irresistibly drawn to her. A moth to her flame. Although I didn't know it at the time, I had become her 17th husband. That was 9 years ago when I had just turned 21. The best nine years of my life doesn't begin to describe it!
I found out the truth gradually. It was little things, at first: the way she could conjure up meals, and even money, effortlessly; how she could eat and drink whatever she wanted and never put on any weight; and, above all, the means by which she got me to do what the fuck she wanted.
Especially sex. I'd always been a bit old school macho when it came to sex. My previous girlfriends had sucked my dick without me having to go down on them in return. But somehow I developed the urge to lick Sam's pussy for ages without me getting any oral in return. I even pleaded with her to let me tongue her asshole, which she graciously allowed. When we fucked I always wanted to delay my orgasm until she'd cum five times.
It turns out my predecessors included two Counts, one King, and several French and Italian aristocrats, all great romantic lovers. Sam had learned exactly how she enjoyed sex over several centuries. She had lived in Paris, Berlin, New Orleans, Saigon and Rio de Janeiro. Within the past century, she had been the lesbian lover of a British heiress, the German wife of a Nazi officer, and a Thai Madame of a brothel in Bangkok.
On our first wedding anniversary, she revealed the whole truth to me. As I said, I was spooked, but she reassured me that she loved me. She could provide us with a fabulous life together. The single thing she couldn't do was prevent me from growing old. One day I would die. And then she would have to find herself an 18th husband, but hopefully only in the long distant future.
*** *** ***
Ellie cooked me eggs and served coffee dressed in her maid's outfit. I've lost count of how many servants we've had over the years. Bob, AKA 'Peanut', and his wife Ellie are just the latest in a long line of innocents whose minds and bodies Sam's borrowed for whatever period she and I needed them; sometimes just an hour or so, sometimes months. When we've finished with them, their memories are selectively deleted, or sometimes amended. Usually, no real harm has been done.
Ellie hates us. Sam can regulate the level to which she takes over somebody's mind. Sometimes she removes all cognisance and choice. In a way that's kinder. But other times she'll leave a dim awareness of reality in the person's brain. They do what they're told but subconsciously know it's wrong. The latter requires more vigilance from Sam but is definitely more entertaining for me.
I've interrogated Ellie when she's been fully spellbound, forced to answer any and every question truthfully. I've literally seen inside her little mind. I know her likes, dislikes, hopes and fears, embarrassments and fantasies. I know how she feels about Bob and everything they've done, every dream they share.
I watched her bustle about our kitchen. Sam's never done a moment's housework during my lifetime. But she's a stickler for clean surfaces, scrubbed floors, ordered utensils in drawers, sparkling toilet pans. Ellie's learning the hard way to keep our house exactly the way Sam likes it.
The doorbell rang and my regular delivery guy was standing on the mat with a package. I signed for it and Gladstone grinned when he caught sight of Ellie dusting the floor behind me.
"New girlfriend?" he asked, his smiling white teeth contrasting with his black skin. He had a nice rubbery face and tight grey curls on his head.
I turned my head disinterestedly. "Oh? Yeah. New neighbour."
"Yeah." He licked his top lip. "I recognised her."
"You have five minutes?"
He grinned, glancing back at his parked delivery van.
"I guess."
I ushered Gladstone into the hall. He sat down on a hard-back chair that Sam and I use when we change our footwear. There were pairs of boots, walking shoes and trainers lined up next to it.
I clicked my fingers at Ellie.
Her lip curled in a scowl but she knelt on the wooden floor between the deliveryman's feet and unzipped him. Gladstone never asks questions. He just figured I'm a lucky guy who likes sharing his good fortune.
