-1-
MONDAY
Tendrils of pleasure pulled and tugged at Mike Connors, wrenching him from the deep, restful sleep that had seemed to last forever. Wet warmth seemed to caress him and envelop him, smothering out all thoughts but the pleasure, the unending, undying and undeniable pleasure...
Mike's eyes opened to see the glorious sight of red lips on his erect cock and a raven-haired head bobbing up and down. Consciousness had not yet fully returned and his hands drifted, instinctually, down to caress the feminine head at his mid-section. It seemed that the lightest touch caused the raven-haired beauty to push harder and take him deeper into her throat.
The beauteous brunette held him there at the limit, her lips, tongue and throat muscles working around his cock, squeezing and caressing, trying to draw the come out of him. At last, she pulled away, gasping for breath, and turned her head up toward him.
"Good morning, baby. I know that's how you like it in the morning."
Mike stared in disbelief at his mother's beautiful, glistening face. He leapt from his bed like a scalded cat. His back hit the wall of his room and he stood there, the shock washing over him.
"Michael, don't push me away," his mother, Jennifer, cooed to him. She rose from his bed like a goddess and took a step towards him.
"Stop!" he commanded. Obediently, she complied.
"Don't you want me, Michael? After your father died, I needed someone to help me, to care for me. I thought it was you. I thought that you loved me. Was I mistaken?"
His mother seemed close to tears. His heart went out to her. She had taken his father's death hard, too hard.
"I do love you, mother. But, could you just leave for a moment, please?"
Obediently, again, she withdrew.
How could this happen, he wondered? It had never come on like this before, not while he was asleep. The Compulsion didn't work unless he concentrated on it. But this time, he had done it in his sleep. And to his own mother. He didn't know what to think about that.
Michael Connors was a high school senior: dark-haired, blue-eyed and in good physical condition. He was tall at six-foot-three, and muscular. He was pretty much normal in every way, except for one.
Mike could control minds. He called it the Compulsion. It had started about a year ago. He didn't know why or how he could do it. The origin of the power was a mystery to him. It wasn't very powerful and it didn't always work perfectly, but sometimes other people would follow his orders and even his unspoken desires. When it worked, the Compulsion allowed him to control other peoples' behavior, distort their memories and alter their emotions, perceptions and thinking, but all in minor ways.
Until now, that is.
Mike realized that he was late for school and quickly dressed.
Leaving his room, Mike heard the shower running and wondered if Jennifer was okay. He pushed the door open and entered. Mike stared at the form of his mother slowly moving behind the glass, in the shower.
With long black hair and blue eyes, Jennifer Connors strongly resembled her son, albeit a very feminine version of him. She was 42 years old, but looked perhaps ten years younger, with a beautiful, nearly ageless face. She sported high cheekbones and creamy, flawless skin. Her breasts were a D-cup, Mike knew, but seemed even larger on her slender frame. In height, she was a dreamy five-foot-ten.
A few seconds passed. Mike was enraptured by the sight of his mother. She never failed to arouse him. Only this time, she was nude and only a few feet away. Not counting the scene a couple of minutes ago, he had never seen her naked. To be honest, he didn't remember much about those few seconds.
Jennifer opened her eyes, saw him through the glass and yelped. "Michael, what the hell are you doing in here?"
Mike hastily withdrew from the bathroom. "Sorry mom. I have to hurry to get to school. See you, tonight."
Mike grabbed his pack and ran out the door before she could say more.
Mike should have been embarrassed, but he was relieved. She was back to normal. He had been half-afraid that she would stay like that, his mind-slave, forever. Or that she would have remembered what had happened.
-2-
Mike left the house and saw that Jim's car was waiting to pick him up. Mike jumped in and it took off.
James O'Neil had been friends with Mike for years and was a senior at his high school, as well. He was brown-haired, dark-eyed, as tall as Mike, but not so big, nor as strong in the chest or shoulders. He was attractive and seemed to get more attention from the girls then Mike did.
"How was your weekend, man?" Jim asked.
"Okay, I guess," Mike answered, thinking of the incident with his mother. She had been unbelievable, actually, but she had left Mike a bit confused as to his feelings or about what to do about his problem.
"My sister came home from college," Jim said.
"For the weekend?"
"For good."
Mike shook his head. "What did your mother say?"
"What do you think? First my father leaves her and then my sister ditches college. She's a wreck."
Mike thought about Claire O'Neil, Jim's mother. She was a pretty woman, his mother's age, and she had always been nice to him. But she had always had problems with Ashley, Jim's sister. Maybe he would stop by and talk to her, to see if she needed anything. He had known Claire most of his life and had always liked her.
"Something is going on with Ashley," Jim said. "But I can't figure out what. My mom doesn't know what to do. I wish that I could help her, but she doesn't trust me at all."
They didn't speak for the rest of the drive. Jim pulled into the high school and parked.
"We're late again," Jim said.
"Translate: screwed," Mike replied.
Jim knew a door that was usually still unlocked at this time and together, they took off around back and tried to sneak in. It worked and they were inside.
"Coast is clear," Jim said after peeking around a hallway corner. "I'll see you at lunch."
"Right," Mike said, as they split off to go to their respective classrooms. "See you, then."
As luck (or unluck?) would have it, he almost immediately ran into Mrs. Adams, his history teacher.
Catherine Adams was an attractive woman in her early thirties. Her clothes were a bit plain and her blonde hair was always worn up, but the slenderness of her face and figure, and the eyeglasses that she wore, only served to entice the male students more.
Besides, as every guy knew, brainy was sexy.
"Mr. Connors?"
"Mrs. Adams," he responded.
"How many times does this make in the past week?" she asked.
"I'm sure I don't know, Mrs. Adams."
She stood with her arms crossed under her breasts, her lovely green eyes peering over those sexy glasses. Mike briefly considered using the Compulsion on her, but after a second, he put the thought from his mind. She waited, still looking at him, as if expecting him to answer. For a split second, he imagined those green eyes peering at him over those glasses, while sucking on his stiff cock.
Catherine's hand immediately reached out to touch him. Long fingers trailed down his chest to alight on the bulge of his crotch.
"You look wonderful today, Michael. Have you been working out? Your chest seems larger, somehow." It wasn't his chest she was feeling.
