• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Mind Control
  • /
  • Bewitched

Bewitched

12

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.

His middle-aged cock was gnarled with veins. Ellie had never sucked a black one before. She seemed to hesitate a moment, staring at it. The back of her neck was mottled red with embarrassment. Then she lowered her head.

I watched her pretty face bobbing in his lap a while, then went to the kitchen to pour myself a refill of coffee. I opened the package Gladstone had delivered.

By the time I returned, Ellie was licking his cock clean. She'd already swallowed his load but chased after every last smear. Sam had turned Ellie into a cum-junkie but without the taste for it. Like a smoker who dislikes tobacco, Ellie needed sperm in her bloodstream but didn't enjoy how it got there.

"Thanks, man." Gladstone said, tucking his shirt in.

I shrugged. "Don't thank me. Thank my neighbour."

He chuckled, buckling his belt. Ellie was smiling robotically at us. Suddenly, she turned and began dusting the floor again like she had no memory of what she'd just done.

"Thanks for the delivery." I winked at Gladstone. He smiled at my innuendo. I showed him out and watched him climb into his van. Unlike Ellie, he'd remember every second of their pleasant encounter.

In future, she would look at the delivery guy and wonder why he was smirking?

*** *** ***

Sam returned around 2 p.m.

I had just finished fucking Ellie. I had her bent over, clutching her own ankles, taking my fierce thrusts stand-up-doggie-style.

Bob arrived weighed down by parcels; glossy carrier bags from designer brands, several plastic supermarket bags, even carrying one hanging from his teeth. He manoeuvred everything onto our kitchen counter while Sam gave me a loving 'missed you' kiss.

Ellie's hair was tousled and her maid's outfit dishevelled. Like a snail, she was oozing a trail of slime behind her. On our honeymoon, Sam endowed me with an extra two inches of penis and the stamina to fuck for hours a day. I can cum six times in twelve hours and every single load is about half a pint's worth. Ellie's cunt was literally swimming in the stuff.

"You two had a good morning?" Sam asked, putting her handbag down.

"Sure. And you?"

"Very successful." She looked at Bob. "Put the food away."

Ellie was blushing, cupping her palm under her mini-skirt to catch drips of my thick jizz. Without any enthusiasm, she lifted a handful to her mouth and licked it all down.

"Give your husband a welcome home kiss." Sam said.

Ellie sidled up to Bob who was unpacking our fruit and vegetables. He didn't look pleased with her. Sam had left his brain with a decent level of male pride. He was fully aware his wife was having an affair with his neighbour. He just couldn't do anything to stop it.

Bob had lost his job the week after he and Ellie moved in. He'd been a young accountant on the fast-track and inexplicably his firm had made his role redundant. Now he was desperate to get another job, any job.

Ellie put her arms around him and leaned her mouth towards his. Both of them paused, looking into each other's eyes.

"Come on, peanut, she loves you."

They locked lips, kissing, embracing.

I winked at Sam. She's a witch.

And sometimes a bitch.

*** *** ***

Four hours later, at six o'clock, our dinner was prepared, our house was spick and span, our clothes ironed, our lawn had been mown. Sam and I had retired to bed for the afternoon while our neighbours completed everything for us.

I came downstairs in my dressing gown to inspect the three-course dinner that Ellie had painstakingly cooked. The ingredients for cocktails had been laid out and nice bottles of wine and champagne were chilling in the fridge.

"Good girl."

I opened my dressing gown. She glared at me then bent at her waist. The dried remnants of my lovemaking with Sam were crispy on my flaccid cock. My hairy balls hung down like drained walnuts.

Ellie took me in her mouth and started cleaning me off just as her husband walked in from the garden.

I grinned at him, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Okay. That's it for the day. I'll escort you both home."

The walk from our house to theirs is only about twenty yards, mostly shaded by a pair of large oak trees, a garden shed, and the local farmer's field. Our neighbourhood is spacious, leafy and well designed. There are plenty of homes in the area but nobody can snoop on anybody else.

Our 6-bedroom house rests on the highest point of the hill, with a view over the farmland behind us. A herd of sheep graze the field that abuts our garden. Bob and Ellie's is one of the small 'starter' homes with just two bedrooms.

They are their home's eleventh owner since Sam and I moved into our place. Ironically, the landscape architects originally designed the layout of small homes next to large ones in case wealthy families wanted to locate their domestic staff next door to them. We find the design very convenient!

I have my own copy of their door key but only visit once a week.

"Shit."

Their front room was still full of boxes they'd not had time to unpack in the three weeks since they moved in. Despite its small size, the place was as dusty and disordered as our house was impeccable. They had a front room, kitchen, guest toilet and store downstairs, and two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. The TV was still unplugged. The fridge only stocked the basics.

"Undress." I instructed Bob. "You need a shower."

His brown eyes looked at me. I could see the negativity deep within them. He was like an employee who hates his boss yet has no choice but to do what he's told regardless.

He removed his boots, socks and shirt, then undid his belt. The reason for his 'peanut' nickname was apparent as he tugged his slacks and underpants down. Bob's childish dick was like a 3-year old boy's. Even erect, it was only about two inches long and as thick as your little finger. His groin was totally hairless and his testicles were the size of petits pois. Sam's curse had allowed him to retain the sexual urges of a grown man but with the equipment of a toddler.

"You too." I said to Ellie.

She removed her heels, stockings, skirt and top. Underwear was an unnecessary inconvenience at weekends. Her nipples were pierced with gold rings. Her heart-shaped strip of pubic hair was matted with dried cum. Her swollen labia pouted like a boxer's punched mouth.

"On the table."

In the centre of their kitchen was a sturdy pine table. Ellie sat naked on the rim of the table and slowly lay back until her shoulders touched the wood. I pushed her knees apart and gestured to her husband.

"Do your marital duty."

His brown eyes blinked at me. I could see by his jaw he was grinding his teeth. But he came to the table and hunkered down, with his chest between Ellie's spread legs. The fishy odour of sweat and sex was pungent.

I studied them both making love. Ellie's blue eyes quickly widened. The nostrils of her button nose started flaring. Sam had implanted a super-sensitivity to cunnilingus in Ellie's libido, especially when it was Bob's cunning tongue doing the licking. For now, this was the only way she could climax.

Bob slurped and drank at his wife's sodden bush. This was equally the only way he could give her any physical pleasure until Sam restored his genitals to their previous size. Was it any wonder she fucked elsewhere in the meantime?

Within a minute, she was gasping, and thrusting her hips upwards into his face. Her honey blonde hair flew to and fro and she clenched her fists, arching her spine in a shrieking orgasm. She crossed her knees and locked Bob's head between her sopping thighs.

I chuckled and tapped her lightly on the shoulder as I departed.

"Have a nice evening both of you."

*** *** ***

After graduating in Psychology, Sam set up a matchmaking company. She was one of the first to use the internet profiles as a way of putting people together.

However, for a large fee, she offers an Executive Service, using her experience and contacts to make more personal introductions.

Bill was a wealthy widower who was looking for a younger, trophy wife. But he wanted a sophisticated lady who could get along with his grown up children. Above all, he wanted a woman who wasn't after him just for his money.

"But why do you want to get married at all?" Sam asked him.

The three of us were having dinner. It was a Wednesday evening. Sam enjoyed mixing business and social time.

Bill shrugged. "What's the alternative?"

"An affair?"

He paused, his fork half way to his mouth. Bill had a kind, avuncular face. He was bald with grey hair at the sides of his head and livery lips. I don't think he saw himself as the kind of man who had affairs.

Sam smiled, now she had his attention.

"I have a female client who is looking for somebody just like you." She paused, catching my eye conspiratorially. "She's only 23 years old."

My wicked wife slid a face-pic across the table. The young woman was a pretty 'girl next door type', with blue eyes, a cute nose and a dazzling smile.

"My!" Bill sucked in his breath.

Sam pushed a second photo over. This one was a full body shot. It showed the young woman's creamy skin, busty figure and great legs. She was dressed in a sexy maid's outfit.

"You have to be kidding!"

"Not at all." Sam laughed. "You would both make a great match."

His life of successful negotiation suddenly caused Bill to frown.

"So what's the catch? You said an affair. She's married?"

"Yes. But that's perfect. You don't want all the complications of marriage. Hoping that your children like her. Worrying about what happens to your estate, their inheritance. This way you can just have a nice discreet relationship and end it whenever you're bored with her. Two weeks, two months, two years, whenever."

"What about her husband?"

Sam twitched her nose.

"He needs a job. You employ him. Something menial."

A grin slowly spread across Bill's face, like he was suddenly catching Sam's train of thought. When Sam twitched her nose, it was amazing how quick people cottoned on.

"So I give the stooge a job and he's no choice but to turn a blind eye to me fucking his missus?"

"I never said that, Bill!" Sam said, in a way that made it clear she had.

His forehead creased. "How do I know she'll like me?"

Sam reached across the table and patted the back of his leathery hand.

"Don't worry, Bill. I am sure she will."

*** *** ***

Of course, I turned a blind eye to Sam's affairs. She was too much of a woman for any one guy to satisfy. Fortunately, she mostly only strayed via lesbian trysts with younger women, and sometimes she even invited me to join them.

Colleen was Sam's new Executive Assistant. She was a delicious, green eyed graduate with luscious coal-black curls. Sam liked her for her lovely looks and quick wit but, above all, because Colleen had become my wife's lover willingly. There had been no need to coerce her with any spells or magic.

Making love like a normal person had become weird for me. I was so used to fucking bimbos that Sam put under my control that I had to remind myself of what was acceptable behaviour.

"Put your tongue in my ..."

Sam's eyes stared at me harshly and I felt a pain in my forehead.

We were entwined in a nude threesome on our marital bed. Colleen was voluntarily snaking between us, alternating between licking Sam's pussy and my balls, while my wife and I passionately French-kissed each other's mouths. Colleen's tongue had slid a bit close to my butt.

12
  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Mind Control
  • /
  • Bewitched

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 17 milliseconds