Teasing Out Hypnosis

Teasing Out Hypnosis

Chapter One

Steve leaned against the window of the train carriage, headphones firmly jammed into his ears as he blocked out the rest of the world. The countryside flashed by but he didn't pay much attention to it, rock music ringing through his head, although he wasn't even actually listening to that -- not that much, at least. His attention was on his music player, the tiny slip of a device that was jammed into the pocket rattling off tracks that he'd heard over and over again, even though technically only enough to skip over the tracks that had gone beyond simply being earworms.

His grandmother awaited him a train ride away, although it had not been his idea to go. Sighing, he pressed his lips together, staring at the faint gleam of his reflection in the window, heart tight in his chest. It didn't look like him, too pale and his brown hair in need of a trim -- just another thing that his grandmother would go on at him about. His mother had blonde hair and his grandmother forever liked to remind him of how different he looked to that side of the family, although it was not his fault. How could it be his fault just how he looked?

Times were not quiet between them and he had been sent there, previously, when his grades had slipped. He hadn't meant to let them slip, usually diligent, but so many things had seemed to get on top of him all at once and the only thing his mother had come to in order to get him back on the straight and narrow (he'd never veered off that track to begin with) had been to send him off with his ridiculously strict grandmother for an advanced pre-college course. It went without saying that his grades had once again stabilised but that was no thanks to his grandmother who picked and nipped at every last bit of his being until Steve wondered if there had been anything left of him at all to finish high-school and move on in life, taking other courses to beef up his resume before college.

Things had changed since he'd last seen his grandmother, in ways that no one else could have ever suspected. It wasn't something that was supposed to be able to happen, something that could be brought from the realm of fiction into reality, though Steve himself could not deny what he'd uncovered. He didn't linger on it too much, instead considering just how much he could push, what he could do with such knowledge, but he simply had not had time to explore the book that he'd found in his grandfather's belongings to the depth that he truly wanted to on his last visit.

A lick of the supernatural and a touch of something that could not be explained by science: a mean feat for a man like him to understand when his very course demanded that he look at things both objectively and pragmatically. That was just why it had been so difficult to consider that controlling the mind of another, particularly that of his grandmother, was at all possible. Yet his anger had gotten the better of him and he'd snarled out the word, a trigger word was what they called it, and his grandmother, cruelty shimmering in her eyes, her twisted scowl contorting her face.

And still...somehow...that had stopped her dead in her tracks. She'd stood there, slack-jawed ever so slightly, and he hadn't known what to do. His grandmother just hadn't seemed to realise what was going on, the world continuing on around her, and it was just as well that he had dug out the word to awaken her again, hardly believing what was going on before his very eyes, before she had been due to drive him back to the train station that time. His heart had hammered and he'd shoved the book into the bottom of his bag right as she returned to her usual snappy self, constantly picking fault in him, regardless of whether or not he actually had done something to deserve that fault.

Truth be told, he didn't deserve it. No one who fell under her wrath did but that was okay. Things would change as he explored just how twisted things could become with his strict grandmother, the world turning a little more in his favour.

Yet his train would pull in soon to the station in the city where his grandmother lived, even though she was not all that far out of the countryside and it was hardly a convenient place in which to live, and things would have to change. He would have to dig and he would have to investigate, slipping his hand into his bag as it sat on his lap, touching the book within with the frayed, curling pages, the one that could be the key to changing it all. Only testing it out would tell, heart turning over in his chest as even his palms sweated.

He would find out just what secrets that book had to spill.

His grandmother, Agatha, would not stand waiting at the station for him, despite there not being any kind of delays on the line that day. No, no, no: she had more important things to do with her time -- he should have known that! Stupid boy, idiotic boy. Others saw her harsh language simply as sternness but only Steve could say how they cut him through to the quick of his being, even though he was now an adult and should have well enough have been able to stand up to her in more conventional ways by this time. That did not matter, however, as he sighed and withdrew his phone from his bag, dialling the number that he didn't feel that he should have known by heart.

It rang.

"Yes?"

Her cranky tone wavered down the line as if Agatha had been interrupted in the middle of something very important but Steve could not find it in himself to be annoyed, dulled in a way but alive in others. His fingers tingled and he opened and closed his hands to and from fists reflexively, taking a breath.

"I'm nearly there," he tried, keeping his voice level and plain, just to see what would happen. "Are you busy?"

"Yes, well, son," she snipped, "I am always busy. What do you want?"

It couldn't be that hard for her to work out, considering that she knew that he was coming to stay that day, but Agatha still forced him to go through the rigmarole of asking, even begging, for the help that she had offered in the first place. Gritting his teeth together for some semblance of steadying himself, he exhaled a breath, lungs releasing, pinching the bridge of his nose.

This time...he was going to try not asking. Just another little thing to try, another thing that may or may not tell him what was happening with that book, whether it was real or...disappointingly...not.

Steve shivered. He had to know.

His lips parted, moist with damp breath.

"You should pick me up at the train station."

There was a beat between his words and her reply, although not long enough for his heart to twist in worry. Had he pushed too far? Had he imagined it all? And yet it turned out that, right then and there, he had nothing to worry about.

"Yes, yes, yes, of course, I will," she sighed, although it was strange enough that she was somewhat amenable to coming there in the first place. "It's a long drive for someone like me, boy, you should be more self-sufficient."

But Steve was not really listening to her, instead forming the image in his head of how he wanted to her to be, how he wanted her to look. Instead of his stern, foreboding grandmother in his mind's eye, he saw her on her knees, lips parted for the treat of something that he could not force his mind to make the next step towards in that moment, grinding to a halt. But it was the gleam of saliva in her mouth, the way her tits were perfectly contained, yet still huge and overflowing over the cups, of the lace lingerie that was designed for a woman of much younger years than her... His train of thought derailed, letting her pose there before him, tits on show, fat flesh heaving for his attention.

Some secrets were not held in books. Some were right there before his very eyes, a tenacious delight that he had not, of course, ever allowed himself the presence of mind to indulge in. Who would? He knew it was wrong...and yet, if it was wrong, just why was it then so very right to fantasise about?

"Steve? Steve? Are you there? Have you put the phone down on me? Youth these days!"

He started, juddering back to reality. What had she said while he'd been off in another world?

"Er, yes, grandmother," he said quickly, trying to catch up with himself. "Yes, I'm here, I'm here..."

It didn't matter what was said though -- not really. His lips curved up in a smile as she slammed the phone down (of course, she didn't have a mobile phone but a landline with a cord attached still), soon to arrive at the station, even though she would not want to be there to pick him up. With the image of her in his mind, all dressed up in the most tantalising of lingerie, desperation lining the curves of her body, though he really did think that she could put on a few pounds...

Steve swallowed hard. He'd told her to eat more on his leaving last time -- a little test that wouldn't come to any hard if it turned out that everything, the inkling of power, was not anything that he'd ever had to begin with. Only time would tell and the dead phone line was best tucked back away in his pocket, the city suburbs and outskirts starting to rise around him, flourishing with life. And it was a kind of life that he was duly set to snatch up for his own -- if the opportunity so presented itself to him, of course.

Finding her in the parking lot, however, after disembarking the train, was another task entirely and Steve grumbled under his breath, hair curling into and around his ear where it had gone a little too long. Maybe it did need a cut, maybe he should have thought to get it done earlier. Either way, it was too late for that now as he sought out the silver of her car, a nondescript ride that she said did her well enough after her late husband had passed away. She didn't need the carefully cleaned and primed wheels that his grandfather had cherished so, even though some of the vintage models were still in the garage where she had not yet gotten around to selling them off.

Ah! There she was. He smiled automatically, heart in his mouth, although he did not yet know what he could expect. Good or bad, a plus or a minus... It was all up in the hands of any gods that so happened to be listening and watching at that time, lungs tight with breath that he desperately needed to release and, still, could not.

"Hi!"

He put more energy into his voice than normal so that it did not come out as so much of a grunt, hefting his shoulder bag, a kind of satchel, and suitcase into the trunk. She didn't say anything in reply and he could not help but cringe, twisting away from the supposed judgement even though nothing at all had come to be vocalised. She was angry, he could feel it, the sourness of her seeping through. Her grey hair had been lightly curled in a style that was often deemed fashionable by the older generation but he would have chosen something different for her in his fantasies, the delicious curling of desire flickering up in his chest again.

Maybe it could be his. Maybe not. But it was fun to imagine it anyway.

Clambering into the car, he didn't look at his grandmother for a moment as she leaned back in her seat, barely moving as he settled himself down. The old, leather car seat seemed to conform to the shape of him as if it had been made to fit his body and only that, at least making him smile a little as he, finally, turned to her.

And then his jaw dropped.

He couldn't have put it any better himself, not even the lingerie that she'd been wearing in his fantasy could match up with what he found her in there, for her body was exposed and tantalisingly contained both at the same time. Her tits heaved in a mesh net of a body stocking that barely covered her nipples and yet somehow managed to put them on delectable show too at the same time, heaving with breath as her eyes alighted on him. The stocking came down to the tops of her thighs and over her hips like a swimming costume, although it was most certainly not one that she should have been caught dead wearing out in public. The mesh was interspersed by thicker, perhaps cotton, lines of fabric that showed off the curves of her breasts and the lines down to her hips, the woman that he had dreamed about chubbier than he last remembered her.

No... No, that was so and not so at the same time, her body having filled out while she also was not quite wearing something that was the right size for her. Her breasts were large enough as they were, sagging down under their own weight, but the body stocking was clearly two sizes at the very least too small for her, enhancing the effect that her body was trapped in it, bursting out and drawing the eye. Not that his eye needed to be drawn to her sexy form, however, as he gaped still, opening and closing his mouth crudely like a fish out of water, the beatific smile on his grandmother's face not changing as she, slowly, turned her head to face him.

Time slowed down, letting him take in every last inch of her luxuriously clad body, heaving and whimpering out a moan that he now knew, finally, that he was allowed, everything slotting together and right into place. No more would he face her snide comments and everything that dragged him down into the ground but everything would now lift him up into another, brighter kind of life and living, drama flowing through thick and vibrant in lustful passion.

His heart surged. Mind control was real -- very much so! -- and it was his to wield!

No young man like Steve could have held back their glee at uncovering something so delightfully seedy, something so powerful, and he was no different as he grinned like a fool, heart thumping so loudly that it seemed that he could hear it and not just feel it.

And then his grandmother 'awoke'.

"Steve!"

Grabbing him with both hands, she drew her grandson in for a kiss, her lips crushing passionately to his, parting them with her own. It took him a moment of freezing to catch up with what was happening but could not stop his body from at least responding in the lust of the moment, kissing her back, her hands running through his hair as Agatha even moaned as if they were long-lost lovers. Anyone watching them, of course, would have thought such but Steve's cheeks burned at the thought of someone looking through the car window and catching them not just kissing but her tits out and wobbling in the outfit that was more and more clearly too small for her... And that thought did not only come in a good way.

They couldn't be caught like that, they couldn't be seen, not until he knew what the limits for his control were, what he could do. There were experiments to be done and he groaned into the kiss, running his hands down her body, losing his tentative grasp on reality, what he knew he should have been doing. Her nipples poked through the mesh against his fingers as he squeezed her tits, one more than a single handful all on its own, and he grunted thickly in the back of his throat, cock rising within his pants. It could not be held back or tucked away and he had to keep kissing her, groping and fondling her tits as if it was only the two of them there. If that had been true, oh... The things he would have done to Grandmother Agatha!

Yet he had to break it, the lightest string of saliva connecting their lips for a fraction of a second, a tenacious connection that would soon bring them back together once more. Hot breath tickled his lips and he laughed lightly, giddily, as he slumped back in his seat, shakily raising a hand to point forward.

"Come on..." He said, the words appearing thick and foreign in his mouth as if he had never before spoken them. "Take me home... Agatha."

He didn't need to respect her as his grandmother anymore but could see her as his grandmother while making use of her and her body in other ways. The taste of her lingered in his mouth, although he did not feel the need to talk to her as they made their way home, the streets busy around the train station, which was situated in a more populous place than her actual home was.

Steve should have been more careful and yet that seemed beyond his particular realm of possibility, lust rising in his heart along with something else entirely throbbing between his thighs. Boxer-briefs had clearly been a wise idea that morning but he needed to free his erection, to let his cock out into the world, have something more for the fantasies that he had not dared breathe life into for so very long. He needed her and his hands teased her, pinching and tugging her nipples lightly out from her body, experimenting with her reactions as her soft moans and whimpers filled the car in the very best of ways. A little pinch here and squeeze there and she was all but putty in his hands, soft and malleable, something that he could shape to his will.

How deep did his control go? That was one question among many that he wanted to answer but there was nothing quite like getting to feel her smooth yet softly wrinkled skin under his fingers, the mesh lining her body like a glove. It squeezed in, leaving little indents where it pressed, but she was not going to mind something like that in the slightest as she arched her back, hands on the steering wheel, and groaned, eyes half-closed.

Steve sucked in a breath. He had to be careful, just a little bit more careful, regardless of how his heart pounded for her. They had to get home in one piece for him to truly enjoy her, despite how much he wanted to tease her and grope her, see her flesh turn softly pinker and redder from his less than gentle manipulation, nails scraping her skin...

Oh... It was all too tempting.

Others could not fail to notice that there was something up in that car, something wrong with them, his hands all over a woman that, through the windscreen, did not bear any kind of family resemblance to him. He kissed her at a stoplight, nipping her neck, licking her lips, letting her press her tongue into his mouth all over again. Their jaws dropped (there seemed to be a lot of that happening that particular day) and they gawked at the woman with her tits practically out in the car, even as Steve grunted into her mouth and suckled on her tongue. Their public display of affection was both lewd and in the open whether he thought they were secluded away enough in the car or not, breathing heavily even as he pulled one of her tits out of her clothes (if her attire could even be called that).

With her breast in his hands, he gave it the due attention she deserved, the car pulling off and someone banging on their window with a shout, leaving them in the dust. Steve and Agatha, of course, were above all of that and there was no sense in looking back at those who were so very clearly below them. Their lust was above everything else and they moaned in unison, even though it was her breast that was in his mouth, kissing and suckling on her tit-flesh as if it was the finest thing in the world for him. Steve may not have been completely inexperienced but he was not very experienced, closing his teeth lightly on her nipple and experimenting even then with what made her groan the most loudly.

Other drivers on the road honked but he could not find it in himself to care. Maybe they thought him perverted, maybe they liked what she was wearing, maybe there was more in it altogether. He didn't care what they saw or what they thought of him, only that he had his incredibly hot and sexy grandmother right there with him to please him, to pleasure him, to play out every last kinky fantasy that he had struggled, before, to bring into the glaring light of day.

Now...the world was up for grabs. And he intended to take everything for his own.

Her house was large with an enclosed garden and tall hedges surrounding the perimeter, although it was set back from the city in the suburbs. It was a quieter location and just right for what he had in mind, although he was someone who preferred the hustle of the city under any normal circumstances. The fact that the house was detached too and not a set of apartments like his home was helped a little in the sense that her moans, at least, would be set back and away from the neighbours.