The Bhc

(This story contains scenes of hypnosis and mind control. It is wholly consensual, though this consent is not explicitly portrayed within the confines of the stories text. It was granted previously.)

Relationships were about give and take. Something Greg knew all too well. For example, he got home from work before his girlfriend, so he would tidy up and start dinner. And his girlfriend - because she was an elf - had a typically elven vegetarian diet (actually it was conditionally vegetarian based on effort, but sense neither of them was going to go out and manually hunt and kill an Elk it was essentially vegetarian). This meant he had to prep his chicken in a smaller portion off to the side.

That was the give. The take was - well, the take was that he got to have a girlfriend, if he was being honest. Also, he got to live in her house, which was a thing. Plus she was sweet and gorgeous and loved him for who he was, despite the fact that she was an elf and he was a human. Interracial relationships weren't that uncommon these days, but it was still intimidating to think she was probably three times his age and made way, way more money than him. Not to mention their kind of relationship tended to get... fetishized less than favorably in the media. You know - hurr hurr hurr, elves are slaves to the BHC. Can't win against the BHC. It made him uncomfortable, and he worried if that kind of thing bothered her. Whenever he asked, she just laughed and kissed him and told him not to think about it.

That kind of response worried him a little too if he was being honest. Elves were famous for their enchantment skills, and Maeve was no slouch. She could do some, ahah, interesting things in the bedroom, and he sure as hell wasn't complaining about that. He tried not to think about whether how chill he was with it was real or manufactured. Greg had trust and anxiety issues if you hadn't caught on yet. An admitted flaw, fortunately it never seemed to phase Maeve.

He was slicing radishes for the salad when he heard the front door open as Maeve got home from her office job. There was an audible thump as she dropped her briefcase in the vestibule, followed by two smaller thumps as she kicked off her shoes and bounced him off the wall. Greg chuckled and wiped his hands on a towel before turning to welcome her. Everyone thought of Elves as these graceful, ethereal beings, but having lived with one for several months he knew that was just 90% hype.

Maeve came practically skipping into the kitchen, eyes lighting up when she saw him. She was shorter than him, maybe 5'7", with bright green eyes and long black hair woven up into a French braid she was currently dismantling with hurried fingers. A dusting of freckles was cast over her face. Like any elf, she was beautiful in a way that was hard to define. Something about the symmetry of her features, the smoothness of her complexion, the poised feline way she had of moving. It helped that he had a raging office lady fetish, and she came home every day dressed in expertly tailored silk blouses and pencil skirts that hugged her figure and left him staring. She shook her tresses out of their braiding and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his waist and kissing him. "Hey babe," she said with a smile as she pressed her lips against his, leaning against him as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Miss me?" she asked, her ears twitching with excitement as she nuzzled his cheek affectionately.

Greg chuckled and hugged her back, rubbing his nose against hers in little eskimo kisses. "Every day. How was work?" He asked, slipping her arms off him and smiling when she gave a little pout. He had to finish dinner before letting her get too handsy or it'd never get done.

"Fiinne," she huffed, not really being clear whether she was answering his question or pouting about his rebuff. Maeve sighed and reluctantly let him go, giving a little twirl and a step towards one of the kitchen seats, dragging it out and sliding her bottom into the chair in one smooth motion. Another elf thing - whenever she moved, it was always some sort of gracefully flamboyant exaggeration, or something so subtle he barely noticed. Almost no in between. He loved to just watch her, but forced himself to turn back to dinner prep, scraping the radishes he'd been slicing off the cutting board into the salad bowl.

"Just fine hmm?" he asked with a chuckle, slicing up his pan seared chicken pieces to set to the side. He could respect Maeve's dietary choices but hadn't been able to give up meat completely. Fortunately, she didn't mind, so long as he kept it separate from her food. Elven cultural diet demanded you only eat what you kill and kill what you eat. Plants weren't technically considered 'alive' the same way animals were so fruits, veggies, and plant products got a pass. But unless they started keeping a coop of chickens or maybe some cows and Greg went out and dispatched them himself, meat was off the table for her. He'd even considered actually getting the chickens, but Maeve had told him no way - she'd just start treating them like pets and force him to keep them alive anyway.

"Mhmm, you know, same old same old. Old being old men scared of making money, of course," she mused, resting her chin in her hands and watching him like a lioness staring at a zebra across the river, contemplating how to rush over and grab it before it could bolt. It sounded like work had left her frustrated again, and that usually meant one thing. Greg hurried up, knowing if he kept her waiting things would get messy. Pleasant, but literally messy - and he didn't want to spend the night cleaning up the kitchen.

They ate together at the kitchen table, chatting about their days, catching up with each other. He knew Maeve's mind was elsewhere though - partially because of how distracted she seemed to be, and partially because she had slipped off her shoes and started running her stocking clad foot up and down his leg less than halfway through their meal. He gave her the side eye and she just bit her lip and fluttered her lashes innocently, ears wiggling in that cute way they did when she was up to something. Greg made sure to clean his plate and drink plenty of water, whispering a silent prayer - he knew he was in for it tonight.

After dinner, he washed the dishes while Maeve went to go get changed and take a shower. He could hear her humming loudly beneath the sound of rushing water off in the direction of their bedroom, and though he couldn't quite make out the tune the way it made his eyelids flutter told him it was more than just noisome buzzing. He shuddered, finding himself imagining her there in the shower, hot water sluicing down her naked body, making her skin glisten and her nipples pucker as she ran soapy hands up and down herself. An aural trigger, definitely - when had they set that one? And was it just the humming, or the sound of the shower? He swallowed, shaking his head to try and clear it as he cleaned up.

When he heard the sounds coming from the other room stop, he sucked in a breath to prepare himself and walked into the bedroom. Maeve was sitting in front of her vanity mirror, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe and combing out her damp hair. She looked back at him over her shoulder and gave him an evil, mischievous smile. "Hey, babe, you wanna... do something tonight?" she asked in an innocent voice, the loose-fitting bathrobe slipping down over one shoulder to reveal a chaste glimpse of pale soft skin.

Greg cleared his throat, steeling himself. "Oh? Something like what, babe?" he played dumb, as she smiled at him and dragged the tip of her tongue across her lips. With an elegant flourish, she raised one hand, index finger extended toward the ceiling.

"Oh, you know. Fun stuff," she smirked, wiggling her finger back and forth slowly. Greg's eye's followed it reflexively. A pinprick of pink light lit up at the tip, glowing like a laser pointer in the dim room. "Watch my finger, Greg," she whispered, wagging it back and forth slowly. He did, eyes dragging back and forth, back and forth, following the pink light.

"Maeve- "he started but fell silent when she let out a hiss to shush him, rising from her chair and walking towards him, a confident sway in her hips. Follow the finger. Just follow the finger. Look at the light, it's so relaxing. She approached him and held the light close to his face, up to the spot between his eyes just above his nose, making him go cross-eyed and his head tingle as he tried to follow it.

"Shhh," she hushed again, reaching up to stroke his cheek with her free hand, brushing her fingers over the stubble and smiling at the relaxed, vapid expression taking hold on Greg's face. "There you are. There's a good boy. My good house boy. Who's my good house boy, Greg?" she asked, stepping closer to lean against him, pressing the glowing tip of her finger to his forehead.

"I-I am..." he muttered. Work? Had he ever left for work today? No—he took care of the house. That was his job. He cooked and cleaned and took care of things for Maeve. She let him think he had a job when she wasn't around because it made him feel less guilty about living with her. Greg worried too much about whether he was a good boy, even when Maeve told him he was. Which made him a silly boy, she told him with a laugh, but precious.

"Yes, a very good boy," Maeve purred, nuzzling his neck and planting soft kisses against it. Greg groaned softly, the warmth of her body against his - he could feel her through the bathrobe - and the softness of her touch stirring him up. Teeth lightly grazed his neck, making him shiver. His eyes were still crossing, trying to watch the light even though it was too close to be possible. "But tonight, we're going to roleplay a little. We're going to pretend you're not just Maeve's good house boy, even though that's what you are. Isn't that exciting, Greg?"

"Uh-huh," Greg dimly agreed, reaching up to stroke her damp hair. Maeve laughed huskily and kissed him on the lips. He loved Maeve. Loved doing what made her happy. He just got too worked up and anxious sometimes, too self-conscious about being human and not being as successful as her, so she had to take control and strip that way so he could just be happy with her. Deep down, he enjoyed it. He had to, or he wouldn't have accepted it so easily. Maeve said so. And honestly, past all the triggers and enchantments and suggestions, he found that he really and genuinely did.

"Good! Tonight, good boy, we're going to pretend you're my stud. You can do that right? Be a good boy and be my stud. My big, strong, brutish human stallion," she licked her lips, untying the sash of her bathrobe and sliding it off her body to the floor. Greg's eyelids fluttered, his vision relaxing and going out of focus now that the light was gone. Stud. He was her stud.

Greg's eyes came back into focus and he growled. Maeve let out a little squeak of surprise as he grabbed her firmly by the arm and pulled her naked body against him, one hand coming up to cup the ample palmful of her breast, squeezing the soft mound hard between his fingers. Maeve squirmed against him and moaned, wrapping her arms around his body and sliding her hands up underneath his shirt. "Greg- "she breathed, lightly scratching his sides with her nails as he pulled his shirt off over his head.

Tossing his shirt aside he reached down and grabbed her by her hips, fingers digging into her ass as he lifted her into the air. Maeve let out a surprised cry, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her over to the bed, kissing him fiercely as he laid her out and climbed on top of her. They bit each other's lips, tongues dueling frantically as Greg possessively ran his hands over her body, pinching and groping and making her squirm before settling a hand over the soft hairless mound of her womanhood and slipping two fingers into her.

Maeve gasped in pleasure, tossing her head to the side as Greg thrust his fingers inside, thumb rubbing her clit in firm little circles as she moistened around his hand. "You like that?" Greg growled, watching her writhe beneath his touch, eyes hooded with lust. "You like that a lot, don't you? You're already soaking," he accused, slipping in a third digit and thrusting his fingers in deeper, curling them to scrape her inner walls with his fingertips.

Maeve moaned in response, arching her hips towards him. "Love it when you touch me, baby," she whispered, voice trembling slightly in pleasure. Greg snorted like a bull and kissed her again, dominating her mouth forcefully as he rapidly thrust his fingers in and out of her cunt. Pent up from the day and turned on by his hypnosis and his aggression, she came, tongue tangled with his and moaning into the kiss as she gushed around his fingers. Greg broke off the kiss and left her panting, flushed beneath him on the bed.

"Haughty little elf girl, melts into a puddle that fast," Greg growled, reaching down to undo his belt, the leather hissing as he pulled the strip clear. Maeve looked up at him, flushed and breathless, and gave a small smile as she reached up to rub the bulge in his slacks, pressing against the zipper beneath. "This is what you want, isn't it?" he asked, unbuttoning his pants and shoving down his zipper. Maeve bit her lip as he shifted down his pants, hand fishing inside till it pulled out his swollen half erect cock. She cooed softly and reached out to wrap her fingers around it, stroking gently, watching it throb and grow beneath her touch.

Greg climbed off her and stood up at the foot of the bed, letting his pants and underwear fall to the floor. Maeve crawled around to follow his cock, climbing up onto her hands and knees to be at eye level with it before nuzzling the underside and flicking it with her tongue, letting his dick drape across her face. "Yeah... good girl," Greg breathed, feeling himself harden beneath her touch, reaching down to run his fingers through her hair and grab hold of one of her ears, rubbing it firmly and making her shiver. Maeve looked up at him with glassy, hooded eyes, lapping at either of his balls and burying her face into them to huff deeply, moaning as he took hold of both her ears and rubbed them from base to tip.

Maeve lifted her head, dragging her lips across the underside of his erection, making him groan at the feel of her sucking little mouth sliding up his shaft till her lips wrapped around the tip. Still leaking slightly onto the bed from her first orgasm, she sucked on Greg's crown, making him stiffen and arch toward her mouth with a groan. She propped herself on one hand to reach up and fondle his balls as she slid his throbbing organ inside of her throat, letting it glide across her tongue, eye's fluttering shut as it tickled the back of her throat with it's tip and Greg continued aggressively rubbing her ears. With an animalistic snarl, Greg leveraged his grip on her head and pulled her further down, pushing his dick past her tonsils and down into her throat. Maeve gurgled around him, relaxing to take him and swallowing around him that made him moan and buck his hips. He buried himself into her mouth with a faint smack as he pulled her face into his groin.

Maeve held her breath, swallowing and sucking around Greg's rampant cock, running her tongue over it. She loved the way the veins felt beneath the thin skin, bulging out from its thick shaft. She loved the way it tasted as it drooled inside her mouth, heavy and fat, searingly hot and big enough to make her jaw ache slightly. And she loved the way he shook and groan as she pleasured him, even when he was locked in a mental state that made him think he was supposedly in charge. As Greg panted and thrust in and out of her mouth, she sucked in breaths through her nostrils when his cock slipped out of her throat to allow for it, and hummed around him as he hilted himself inside once more sending delicious vibrations travelling down his shaft. She looked up at him demurely through her lashes, watching his jaw sag and his eyes fog up.

Greg moaned, fucking Maeves face enthusiastically until he felt the tingling of orgasm signaling at the back of his loins. With a frustrated grunt he pulled out of her throat, leaving her gasping, a thin string of drool stretching between her mouth and his dick. Greg panted, dick twitching and throbbing in the air - he'd wanted to finish, but he was a stud, and studs didn't finish first. He had to show this elf slut her place, first. That's what his mind told him. Maeve tongued his shaft, licking him clean with long laps that went from base to tip, smiling up at him smugly. The smug little tart.

"Lay back on the bed," Greg ordered hoarsely. Maeve crawled back to obey as Greg climbed onto the bed with her. But he didn't just mount her and slam his dick into her needy little pussy like he wanted - like she probably wanted. No, he had to show this little elf her PLACE. So, he crawled up between her thighs, trailing kisses between them as he worked his way up to the intersection of her legs, dragging his tongue across the folds of her pussy. Maeve gasped softly, and Greg grabbed hold of her thighs and propped her legs up so he could properly get between them, burying his face into her cunt to latch his mouth onto her pussy. Sucking on the labia, he lashed her with his tongue, burying it inside as he lightly scrapped her outer folds with his teeth.

Maeve whimpered and cried out, grabbing onto his head and grinding against him, overcome by the sudden oral assault. Her nails dug into his scalp and her thighs squeezed around his head as he teased her, humming into her loins like she had done to him. Maeve bit her lip and screwed her eyes shut, keeping one hand tangled in his hair and reaching up to grope herself with the other, squeezing her breast and pinching the nipple as she rocked her hips up against his relentless mouth. "F-fuck! Greg, baby!" she mewled and came again, shuddering. Greg squeezed and rubbed her thighs as she shook against him, lapping away the dew that trickled out of her slit onto his face until she relaxed and sagged back onto the mattress.

Maeve lay there dazed and panting making soft little sounds of pleasure as Greg resumed his upward journey across her body, crawling out from between his legs to nuzzle and kiss his way up her soft torso to between her breasts, brushing aside her clutching hand to catch her hard nipple into his mouth and lick it with his tongue. Maeve groaned, eyes tightly shut as he continued to play with her body like this, hands seeming to roam over every inch of her until his caresses all blurred together. His hips shifted their way between her thighs, and she opened herself reflexively for him, still buzzing from orgasm as she felt the hot tip of his swollen erection press against her pussy lips. "Yes- "she gasped softly, feeling him slip inside, parting her empty little pussy with the slow intrusion of his aching shaft. She felt him push her apart, spread her, fill all her emptiness with his heat and his girth. She moaned and dragged her fingers down his hairy chest, wrapping her legs around his hips as he shifted and started to thrust into her, burying himself into her inch by inch.

Greg groaned in pleasure as he forced himself inside of Maeve. She was always so tightly wound inside, even when he made sure she was wet and ready for him he had to push to get her apart to accept him. Her thighs trembled around him and she cried out in senseless ecstasy, clutching at him needily as he thrust into her until their hips slapped together and his swollen testes bounced off her pert ass. With a demanding growl, Greg propped himself up onto his hands and started to slide in and out, slowly at first but gaining momentum until the bed started to shake and Maeve's body bounced tantalizingly beneath him, the soft mounds of her breasts heaving up and down as he buried himself inside of her again and again. Her pussy clutched at him like a silken trap, made like it was far too small for something like him, and Maeve's eyes rolled up into her head as she came undone again, cumming around him. "Take it," Greg husked into her ear, feeling like a god, "take it all you naughty little girl."