This is my first venture.. Be kind.
I’ve spent three years in therapy and I still don’t think I’ll ever get over what happened. In the years leading up to my need for therapy I lost my wife, my daughter, my house, my job and my self respect.
I guess I better start at the beginning. My name is Dave. I’m 39 years old and I held an upper management position in a well known accounting firm. I’ve been married for 19 years to my incredibly sexy wife, Amy and I’m the proud dad of my 18 year old daughter, Sue.
Amy is 37 and the love of my life. I don’t know her exact statistics but she’s a couple or more inches shorter than me so I guess that would put her at about 5 foot seven or eight. She has a slim figure, great legs, a magical smile, long brown hair and a chest that has drawn the attention of many.
While not a fanatic, Amy does keep herself in shape with regular exercise. The heads that she turns has always made me uncomfortable but Amy never flaunted her sexiness and I grew to accept the ogling.
She has been a high school teacher for fifteen years and has a great rapport with her students. She spends many hours in school, providing extra help, and taking advantage of the school’s gym facilities and swimming pool. For an urban high school, Madison High has all the amenities of those in wealthier suburban settings.
Susan, we call her Sue just turned eighteen when my difficulties began. I tried not to be too protective but I think of her as my little flower and I wanted to make sure that she was safe. Since she has her mother’s genes, she is an absolute knockout and the boys seem to always be buzzing around.
Sue could be a clone of my wife, and when I look at her I know why I fell in love with her mother. Sue’s a great kid and had never caused us any worry. She attended the same school where her mother taught, at least until she graduated in June of that first year and Sue never objected to car pooling it with mom. Most teenagers wouldn’t be caught dead in the same car with their parents but Sue was confident as well as poised.
Being a cheerleader, an honor roll student as well as a beauty carries a lot of weight with her peers.
My life was what I had always envisioned. A fantastic family, nice house in the suburbs, swimming pool, nice cars, the ability to travel. I don’t want to sound like a snob, because I’m not. I’ve volunteered my time for many worthwhile causes and was proud that my wife and daughter shared the same sense of community responsibility.
You’re probably wondering why I need therapy. Well, all those things that I mentioned are now gone, gone from me anyway. No, Amy and Sue aren’t dead. They’re still alive, beautiful, living in what was formerly my house, driving around in what was formerly my cars.
Amy still teaches and Sue is attending a local college. I still pay the bills but I don’t interfere with the lives of the women. I know this sounds confusing, so I better get to the crux of my problem, the day it happened, the beginning of my nightmare.
It was during the April vacation, April 19 to be exact and Amy’s birthday. She wanted to have a nice meal and go to a show. She picked out a restaurant and the show and we readied ourselves for a fun night out.
The city was not far from our residence so Amy had a choice of many different venues and she choose a local comedy club. That particular evening the third act was a hypnotist. I had never heard of the guy, ‘Bradley, the hypno-brother’. His name was catchy and he was introduced to the audience.
Bradley, Brad as he liked to be called, was a huge man. At least six foot four and as solid a man as I’ve ever seen and black. He wore this T shirt that just hugged every inch of every muscle and he took pride in flexing his well defined arms. Actually, the man was funny, He could sing, not great but passable, he did a few impressions and he asked for volunteers to be hypnotized.
About three people raised their hands and he whisked them onto the stage. He made this big production about counting backwards, suggesting that their eyes were getting heavy, all the usual hypnotist stuff until they were standing there with their eyes closed, supposedly in some hypnotic trance.
He went behind them and whispered something in each ear. He moved around so that he was in front of them and he had one of them, a woman count up to ten but for some reason she couldn’t remember what came after five. It was kind of funny and she was getting embarrassed with her loss of memory.
The second person, a younger man was trying to explain something but was talking as if he were a baby.
The third, an older woman, thought she was the winner of a beauty pageant and Amy and I were quite amused.
He brought them back to the conscious world and asked what they remembered. True to form, they remembered nothing but said that they felt great. The audience applauded as they left the stage.
Brad then had the lights dimmed so he could see out into the audience. He wanted to pick the next victims and I squirmed. I’m not comfortable with being the center of attention, so I twisted and turned, trying to look inconspicuous but he noticed my table anyway.
I guess it would be difficult not to notice the gorgeous woman sitting with me. Reluctantly but with his and the audience’s urging, Amy and I found ourselves on stage with Bradley, the hypno-brother. I don’t remember much of what happened but we were hypnotized and Brad whispered in each of our ears.
I later figured out that what he whispered had nothing to do with his act but rather was a suggestion, a switch that he would use to control us in the future. Neither one of us thought much was wrong and soon we found ourselves awake and the audience applauding.
As we got back to our seats, someone said that I was a great dancer and that my wife was a fantastic athlete. Other than that, we couldn’t recall what occurred. The evening ended and we drove home in silence, wished each other a pleasant evening and went to bed.
That was Friday night and the last normal night we spent together.
The next morning at breakfast, Sue asked about our evening and we told her about the hypnotist. It seemed strange not to be able to tell her what we did on stage but nether of us remembered.
One of the things that I’ve always enjoyed is the family talks we had at meal time. It provided us with a time to share our day’s experiences and strengthen the family bond.
Sue told us about her date with her boyfriend Tom. They went to the movies, goofed around with some friends and were home fairly early. Sue asked us if it were okay if she went over her friend Mary’s house that evening and watch TV. Neither I nor my wife objected and Sue explained that Mary had to watch her younger brother and she figured that she’d be home around midnight.
The rest of the morning and afternoon was uneventful. Sue went shopping, Amy busied herself around the house and I did outside chores.
Sue left for Mary’s house at about 5 PM so Amy and I had a small supper and then retired to the den to read and watch TV. I read and Amy watched the tube.
At about 6 PM, the front doorbell rang. Amy pleaded with me with her eyes so I went to the door. I saw this rather large black man at the door and somewhere deep within my mind a voice told me to open the door.
It took a few seconds but recognition did come and I started to say, “Brad, what are you.....” but he interrupted.
He simply said “Bad Brad”.
I stopped mid sentence and realized that it all made sense. “Come on in Brad, glad you could come,” I said eagerly but my inner conscientiousness was questioning my actions. I just couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’d love a beer,” said Brad and off I went as if all that mattered to me was that Brad got a beer. Upon returning Brad commented on the house and asked if my wife was around.
“Amy’s in the den,” I said and quickly led the way.
We found Amy intently watching some reality show. She was sitting, well actually she had her legs tucked up underneath her and she looked sexy as ever in her slacks and white cotton blouse. We stared and Amy finally turned towards us as a commercial interrupted the show. She looked at us and you could see the confusion in her face as she looked at Bradley.
The silence was broken when he said “Bad Brad” and her look of awe was replaced with the face of someone who has just seen a long lost friend.
“Hi Brad,” Amy said and then asked, “What brings you to our humble abode?”
Brad moved about the den, soaking in the layout of the room, his eyes always glancing back to Amy. He came upon a recent family photo and asked about Sue. We quickly and eagerly told him about our daughter and what a wonderful kid she was.
Brad spoke in a slow and even voice, a voice that my conscious couldn’t comprehend but made sense to the rest of my being. Brad sat on the couch, beside Amy.
”Sit over there, Dave,” Brad demanded as he pointed and I rushed to my seat opposite the couch.
“Amy is a very beautiful woman.” said Brad as he raised a hand to her face and let his fingers trace her cheek, her chin then her neck.
“Very beautiful, Amy, very, very beautiful” and his hand moved over her face.
Amy sat with a straight back, leaning a little towards Brad, her chest pressing against the fabric of her blouse, her breathing coming heavier as she didn’t resist him.
“Dave, Amy will do just fine,” he said and bent down so that his lips touched hers, ever so softly.
“You don’t mind if I kiss your wife, do you Dave?” he asked but before I could answer his lips were on hers in a more passionate kiss this time.
Amy seemed to respond in kind and Brad added “Well Dave, do you mind?”
“No, No of course not Brad,” I stammered as my brain raced. There was some deep part of me that was screaming to stop but I only looked on as Brad kissed Amy.
His thick lips on Amy’s looked so right and his eyes strained to see my reaction as he moved his head away from Amy but it showed Amy was doing all she could to suck his tongue back into her mouth.
Brad moved a free hand to her chest. The back of his hand moved over the swell of her chest and then turned as he then opened his hand to capture her breast.
Amy kept her mouth glued to this large black man’s mouth as he pawed at her chest.
Suddenly he leaned back and summoned me. “Dave, get over here”.
I got up as fast as I could and stood in front of the two.
“Sit behind your wife,” he said in a voice that demanded immediate action.
I did what I was told.
He then added “reach around and unbutton her blouse. I want to see more of your wife.”
I must have paused for a second too long because in a more agitated voice he said “Amy, tell your husband to get busy. Tell him that I want to see your tits.”
Amy turned her head and in a soft, loving voice she said “Come on baby, it’s Brad, honey, he wants to see my breasts. Please hurry, honey.”
She turned back to Brad and looked into his eyes as my hands snaked around her and clumsily began unbuttoning her blouse. Finished, I pulled the material to the side so that her bra clad chest was open to Brad’s view. Amy’s breasts swelled over the confines of her bra and Brad licked his lips.
“This bra shit has got to go, okay Dave, okay Amy?”, Brad asked.
Both Amy and I nodded in agreement.
“No more bras, baby, your tits don’t need it and I want to be able to get to you quickly, okay?”
It didn’t need an answer but we agreed anyway.
“Now the bra, Dave, I shouldn’t have to tell you. The bra has to go.”
I unclasped the bra and Amy’s beautiful, full breasts burst into view.
“Magnificent,” commented Brad, “I’m really going to enjoy your wife, Dave. You should be proud of her.”
Brad stared at the pink nipples that topped her breasts, breasts that despite her age needed no support, breasts that seemed to quiver all by themselves as if begging to be sucked.
