The next morning

You are awoken by the sound of birds chirping outside. Warm sunlight drifts through the bedroom windows, giving the room a faint golden glow. It isn’t your room, however. Pictures of various professional athletes line the walls. Trophies sit on the shelf above a wooden desk. Not a book can be seen here, and the very idea of that offends you on a deeply personal level.

Jared had never been one for books, but you’d tried to get him interested in them in eons past. It was a wasted effort, ultimately, and your dislike of social settings only made you look like an aloof know-it-all that the people in your school wanted nothing to do with.

Not just them, either. Your entire family despised you. Still despises you, as far as you’re aware. Ever since you started high school, you’ve felt like an unwelcome guest in the story of your own life.

You check your phone for the time. 10:57 am. You don't see any new text messages or missed calls.

A low rapping draws your eyes to the white door facing the hallway.

“John, are you awake?” Sharon Thompson calls out to you. You subconsciously lick your lips and smirk. Jared’s mother had been very accommodating thus far, even going so far as to give you a blowjob at the mall yesterday. She’d brought you home, fed you dinner, and given you Jared’s room after you’d eaten her out and made her orgasm. For the first time in years, you felt at home.

How strange was that? To feel more welcome and comfortable in the home your high school bully grew up in?

You stretch on the insanely comfortable bed Jared’s parents had gotten for him, wondering how he could ever leave after being given so much.

“Um, yeah. Come in,” you say.

The door opens with a low squeak, revealing Sharon standing in the hallway. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight. Her brown hair is tied back in a cute ponytail. She’s wearing a sports bra which seems to barely contain her large breasts and leaves her toned midriff exposed. She’s also wearing a pair of black sweatpants so tight on her thick thighs that they might as well be leggings.

Her skin glimmers slightly with sweat and you realize she must have gone for a run this morning while you were sleeping.

“Good morning,” you smile at her, throwing the covers off yourself. You’re naked underneath and Sharon’s eyes widen appropriately. She looks down at your crotch and chews her lower lip. You wonder if she’s thinking about how you pleasured her last night and what it would be like if she finally gave in and let you fuck her like you’d asked yesterday.

She turns away abruptly, drawing your gaze to her big bubble butt. The pants cling tightly to her asscheeks and dig into her crack.

“Don’t you want some clothes to cover up?” she asks.

You chuckle.

“Sharon, I thought we were past the embarrassment stage of our relationship. Turn around and look at me. You don’t want me to feel like I’m awful to look at, do you? That’d pretty detrimental to my recovery, I’d think.”

She whirls around so fast she nearly clips her arm on the doorframe.

“No, of course not!” she says firmly. “I’d never do anything to make you feel embarrassed by your own body. You look good. Very handsome.”

Her blue eyes flick down to your cock again before refocusing on your face.

“Thanks, Sharon. So, it looks like you went for a little exercise earlier. Did you have fun?”

Sharon shrugs.

“I guess so. I thought about asking you to join me, but figured you’d probably want to rest after yesterday.”

She’s definitely right about that. While you did take care of yourself and tended against eating unhealthily, you absolutely hated running. You’d much rather go on a bike ride through a wooded path. Maybe you’ll ask her to go with you when you’re up for it. It’d be fun to have your way with her in the woods.

Sharon continues, “I made you some breakfast if you’re hungry. The cleaning ladies will be here soon so it’s probably for the best if you eat now. They usually start in the kitchen.”

Huh. Sharon had cleaning staff? You can’t say you’re surprised considering how wealthy she is thanks to her ex-husband and her house is rather big for her to clean all by herself.

You get out of bed, and you can’t help but be conscious of how Sharon keeps staring at you. Her cheeks are flushed slightly.

“Okay, I’ll go eat,” you say. “So, do you usually stay home when the cleaning people are here or do you go somewhere else?”

Sharon nods.

“Usually they’ll show up when I’m at work so it’s not normally an issue, but I when they do come when I’m here I find it’s best to leave so I’m not really in their way, you know? Do you, um, want to come with me?”

You quirk an eyebrow at her as you begin dressing.

“Where do you think you want to go?” you say.

Sharon wrings her hands in front of her.

“I was thinking we could go see a movie and then I could take you out for lunch. I think it’d be good for you. What do you think?”

You smile at her genuinely.

“That sounds amazing! It’s been years since anyone’s gone with me to the movies,” you let a hint of wonderment enter your voice. “Mom and Dad stopped taking me a long time ago and Tiffany never wants to do anything with me.”

Sharon’s smile dims slightly and her eyes widen with concern.

“That sounds lonely,” she says.

You blink in confusion. Then you remember that she’d essentially volunteered to be your psychologist after the alterations you’d made to her mind under her MILF trance. You **** yourself to ignore the warm feeling in your chest. Her concern isn’t real. She’d never expressed it before you’d influenced her mind. Her desire to help you was but a springboard for you to manipulate her behavior, nothing more.

“Yeah. It is. I used to go to the movies with you and Jared, but after he started bullying me it kind of lost its allure, you know? And you never asked me why we weren’t hanging out together anymore. Not once.”

Sharon’s smile dims even further at the mention of her own culpability in what happened to you. She recovers quickly, however.

“Well, I’ll have to make sure you have the best time at the movies possible,” she says. “Thinks are going to get better for you as we work on your recovery. I promise you. Now come on. The cleaning people will be here soon.”

With that, she leaves the room the room. You stare after her as her delectable bubble butt jiggles in her tight exercise pants until she’s out of sight. You hear a door open and close somewhere else in the house and the distinctive sprinkling hum of a shower.

You finish getting dressed and head downstairs. The floors are finished wood and creak slightly under your feet. The walls a slight off-white shade that seems to drink in the sun’s rays as they spill in through the large house’s appropriately large windows.

The landing of the stairs is near the double-doored front of the house. An appetizing smell of cooked bacon wafts into your nostrils. You turn right and head down a short hallway that leads into a rather expansive kitchen. The space was occupied by a large dark marble counter that formed an L-shape around an island which hosted four bar stools.

A large wooden kitchen table occupies the other side of the room. Sure enough, a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and a slice of toast waited for you there, complete with a set of silverware, a napkin, and a glass of orange juice.

Your stomach grumbles as you walk towards the table.

The table sits in front of a window that showed much of the Thompsons’ front yard. The lawn seemed immaculately cut and well-watered. It stretched for several hundred feet before giving way to an asphalt-paved road in the distance.

The accompanying sounds of birds chirping outside makes the entire scene seem incredibly peaceful and safe.

Smiling, you sit down and begin to eat.

As you dig into your meal, you here the front door open. A feminine voice spills into the house, followed quickly by another, slightly more mature voice. Two sets of footsteps echo down the hallway from the front entrance towards the kitchen. They converse heatedly in Spanish, and not for the first time you regret not making an effort to learn the language.

The first to enter the kitchen is a woman in her mid-to-late twenties. She has dark brown hair and enchanting hazel eyes that are difficult to take gaze off of. Her lips are plump and soft, and you can tell she isn’t wearing any makeup. She’s naturally pretty. She wears a tight navy blouse that hugs her rather large breasts. They’re almost as big as Sharon’s.

Her eyes flick over to you almost immediately and she stops.

“Hey,” you wave at her from the kitchen table.

The young woman raises her eyebrows and says, “Hi.” She doesn’t appear to know what to say next, and before you can introduce yourself, the second woman enters.

She’s older than the first. She too had dark brown hair and the same beautiful hazel eyes as the younger woman. Her older sister or her mother, perhaps? Oh, you dearly hoped it was the latter and that she’d fall into a trance right in front of you.

The older woman had larger breasts than the first and wide, childbearing hips. She wore a plain white shirt and denim pants that seemed a size or two small on her.

You gulp and try not to stare as all sorts of lewd thoughts flash through your mind. You think about the woman’s hazel eyes staring ahead blankly as you take advantage of her trance to reprogram her mind, filling it with thoughts of serving and obeying you.

“Oh, who’s this? I thought Mrs. Thompson only had one son. Jared,” the older woman addresses you in a slightly accented voice. She smiles, and you get the impression that she seems genuinely curious to know who you are. You can’t help but like her immediately.

The younger woman rolls her eyes in distaste and turns to leave, but the older woman grabs her gently by the arm, stopping her. The younger woman sends her mother/sister an irritated look before crossing her arms under her breasts. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to stare at her plentiful titflesh as it’s pushed upward.

“She does,” you stand up as you reply. “I’m John Doe, Jared’s childhood friend.”

Technically it’s not a lie. You suspect the woman might be wondering why you’re staying here if you’re not somehow connected to Sharon’s son, and you really don’t want any rumors being spread around about the two of you. At least, not until you’ve already cemented your influence over Sharon’s mind.

“I’ve been staying in town for a little bit and Sh- er, Ms. Thompson was nice enough to loan me a bed for a few nights. She told me you would be coming, but I didn’t get your name.”

The older woman smiles genially.

“I’m Veronica,” she says. She tugs slightly on the younger woman’s arm. “And this is my daughter, Michelle.”

You smile at the both of them and hold your hand out.

“It’s nice to meet you, Veronica,” you say.

Veronica nods respectfully and takes your hand in her own. Her skin is calloused from years of manual labor, but it isn’t unpleasant to the touch. There’s vibrancy in her hazel eyes that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. You know then that you want this woman under your thrall.

“And you, Michelle,” you nod at Michelle.

The younger woman sighs, but a cough and stern look from her mother has her smiling at you.

“Nice to meet you, too. John,” she adds your name to her statement like an afterthought. She turns to face her mother. “I should go get all our stuff.”

Veronica nods and Michelle turns to leave. Your eyes flick down to her ass. It jiggles and sways enticingly with her every step. You can’t help but imagine having Michelle bend over in front of you, spreading her asscheeks and begging you to fuck her.

Veronica clears her throat and you back at Veronica. The older woman has a small smile on her face like you’ve done something entirely, but amusing nonetheless.

“I’m uh…”

“You’re a man,” she says simply. Her hazel eyes glimmer strangely.

You chuckle.

“Yep. Yeah, I guess I am.”

She nods, and a silence descends between the two of you. It isn’t uncomfortable. Veronica just seems happy to stand there with you. The silence stretches to over a minute and you glance back at Veronica’s face.

Her hazel eyes are slightly glassy. They stare at you without really seeming to see you. Her breaths come with a rhythmic regularity, but she does nothing aside from that. Is she hypnotized? You wonder.

Your cock immediately hardens to life.

Moving your hand in front of Veronica’s face, you snap your fingers a few times. She doesn’t react.

“Veronica, can you hear me?”

“Si…” her mouth droops slightly as she speaks.

Fuck. She really is hypnotized, isn’t she? You immediately glance down the hallway. Michelle hasn’t come in through the front door, but she could at any moment, and you doubt she’d react positively if she saw you taking advantage of her mother in her trance. Sharon could come downstairs at any time as well, and while you have a certain amount of influence over her, you don’t think it’s enough to guarantee that she won’t put the pieces together and start wondering if her newfound concern for you was due to your manipulation.

It’d be safer if you just left her alone and tried to catch her in a trance on a later date. Your eyes flick downwards towards Veronica’s massive cleavage. Shit. Her tits are so big, bigger than Sharon’s. You wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around your cock. You imagine what they’d look like swaying and jiggling as you fucked her.

“Veronica, I want you to follow me. Can you do that?”

“Si,” the Latina MILF nods. Her eyes fix on you.

You walk further into the kitchen, past the counter and stove and into the laundry room beyond. You make a left to stand in front of a white washing machine. You hear footsteps behind you and you glance back to see that Veronica has followed you. She still has that delightfully blank look her face , and you remind yourself that it won’t last much longer. She’ll have questions as to how from her perspective she suddenly moved from the kitchen to the laundry room. You’ll have to deal with that first.

“And stop. Stand right there.”

She stops obediently. She’s just beyond the visible threshold of the door. If anyone walks into the kitchen, they won’t see her.

Your eyes rove her form greedily. Her huge breasts are practically right in front of you, constrained only by her tight blouse. You can probably get away with groping her like you did Tiffany.

“You’re in your daily trance, Veronica, did you know that?”

“Si,” she replies readily.

“How do you feel right now?”

“I don’t know…” she replies.

“You feel relaxed, don’t you?” you continue. “When you’re in your trance, nothing can hurt you. You feel safe and relaxed. How do you feel right now, Veronica?”

“…safe and relaxed.”

“Say it again.”

“Safe and relaxed,” she says it more firmly this time.

“You don’t normally feel safe and relaxed in your trances, do you?”

She shakes her head.

“Why not?”

“Don’t know…” she replies.

“I think I know why, Veronica. It’s because I wasn’t there, isn’t it? You feel safe and relaxed because I’m here with you. You like it that I’m with you while you’re having your trance, don’t you?”

She nods, “Si.”

“So anytime you fall into your trance, you’re going to want me to be there, won’t you?”

“Be there…” she bites her lip.

“You’re going to want me to be there. Say it.”

“I’ll want you to be there,” she replies obediently.

“But I can’t be there all the time, Veronica. We barely know each other, after all. You know you’ll need to get to know me better before I’ll feel comfortable being around you when you’re in your trances.”

She stares ahead blankly.

“What will you do to make sure I’m around you when you’re in your trances more often?”

She licks her lips.

“I’ll get to know you better.”

You smile.

“How will you do that?” you ask.

“I’ll talk to you. Tell you about myself so you feel more comfortable opening up to me,” she says. “I’ve seen you look at my daughter. Maybe I’ll offer to have you over to see her. Then you can be with me when I go into my trances.”

You blink. That wasn’t exactly the line of logic you’d wanted her to travel down, but it was interesting nonetheless.

“Your daughter. Does she have kids by any chance?”

Veronica nods.

“Yes. My little grandson.”

Your lips twitch upwards.

“Does Michelle have a husband?”

Veronica shakes her head. “No.”

“Does your daughter have a boyfriend?”

The MILF shakes her head again. Her brows furrow slightly.

“You don’t like that your daughter doesn’t have a man.”

Veronica doesn’t reply.

“You hate that Michelle doesn’t have a man, don’t you?”

She nods.

“What about you? Do you have a husband?”

Veronica shakes her head.

“Why not?” you ask.

“He… passed away,” she whispers. You can hear the pain in her voice even through the trance.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

Veronica nods.

“You think about him every day. You can’t stop, can you?”

She shakes her head.

“You want it to stop. You want an end to the pain you felt when you lost him. You want to feel safe and relaxed.”

“Safe and relaxed,” Veronica intones.

“Anytime I and only I say the words ‘safe and relaxed’, all of your pain and stress will simply melt away. You’ll feel comfortable and safe, like nothing can hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Si. Safe and relaxed.”

“You’ll always feel safe and relaxed around me, won’t you?”

Veronica nods. “Safe and relaxed.”

“Every time you’re around me, you’ll feel the memories of your husband dim along with your pain. You’ll feel comfortable and happy. I’m the only person who’s ever made you feel this way. You want to get to know me better so I’ll spend more time with you. So I’ll make your pain go away,” you say.

Veronica whimpers.

You put a hand on her arm.

“Do you feel that?”

Veronica nods.

“I’m touching you, aren’t I?”

She nods again.

“Say it.”

“You are touching me.”

“It makes you feel safe and relaxed, doesn’t it?”

Veronica nods. “Safe and relaxed.”

“Anytime I touch you, you’re going to remember my voice saying ‘safe and relaxed’. All of your worries and pain will wash away. You’ll forget all about Michelle not having a man around. You’ll forget about your husband and the pain of his ****. You’ll forget about your loneliness. And you’ll feel safe and relaxed.”

“Safe and relaxed,” Veronica smiles.

You inch your hand right so it’s touching the side of her breast.

“Do you feel that?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m touching you again, aren’t I?”

She nods.

“Where am I touching you?”

“My breast,” she whispers.

“And it makes you feel safe and relaxed.”

“Safe and relaxed.”

“It doesn’t matter where I touch you, does it? Just as long as you feel safe and relaxed.”

“Safe and relaxed,” she repeats.

You move your hand to grab her tit. It’s soft even through her bra.

“Are you thinking about your husband right now?”

“No,” she shakes her head.

“And that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Because you’re feeling safe and relaxed.”

“Safe and relaxed,” she nods.

“When you’re safe and relaxed, you don’t really have to think about much, do you?”

She nods.

“It’s nice to not have to think, isn’t it? All that stress of everyday life just melts away as long as you’re safe and relaxed.”

“Safe and relaxed.”

“I make you feel safe and relaxed, don’t I?”

“Si,” her lips twitch upwards.

“I make all your pain wash away,” you reach your other hand to grab a handful of her right tit. She doesn’t react.

“If I didn’t spend time with you, you wouldn’t feel safe and relaxed, would you?”

She shakes her head.

“If I didn’t talk to you, would you feel safe and relaxed?”

“No,” her voice quavers slightly.

“If I didn’t… touch you,” you give her huge breasts a squeeze. “All the memories of your husband’s **** would overwhelm you. All the stress from Michelle not finding a man would eat at your soul. You’d be in pain. Tell me how you’d feel if I didn’t touch you again.”

“I… I would be in pain,” she croaks.

“You need me to get rid of your pain, don’t you?”

She nods.

“Say it.”

“I need you to get rid of my pain.”

“Again.”

“I need you to get rid of my pain.”

“Feel those words become a part of your truth. You need me to get rid of your pain. You need me to feel safe and relaxed. You need me, don’t you?”

“I need you,” she replies.

“You can’t afford to make me unhappy, because then I wouldn’t make you feel safe and relaxed. Isn’t that right?”

She nods.

“You’d be in pain if you made me unhappy, wouldn’t you?”

“Si…” she says.

“You can’t make me unhappy. You need to make me happy. You’ll do whatever it takes to me make me happy. Because you want to get rid of your pain. You want to feel safe and relaxed.”

She nods. “Safe and relaxed.”

You sense that the time of Veronica’s trance is coming to an end, so you make sure to cover your bases.

“When you wake from your trance, you’ll remember leading me into the laundry room after Michelle left because you wanted to get to know me better. You wanted to feel safe and relaxed.”

“Safe and relaxed,” she intones.

“What did you do after Michelle left the house, Veronica?”

“I took you to the laundry room,” she says firmly.

You smirk. Excellent. This had gone far better than you’d expected. You hear footsteps from upstairs and then creaking noises from the stairs themselves. Sharon must be ready to go.

Veronica blinks. Her eyes return to their usual liveliness.

“So, John,” she smiles at you. Her body posture relaxes slightly. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

You smile back at her.

“I’d love to, but it sounds like Ms. Thompson’s coming downstairs. I promised I’d go with her to the movies.”

Her smile dims.

“Oh, are you sure I can’t change your mind?” she grasps your arm. Licking her lips, she continues. “I know Michelle and I are going to be busy cleaning the house, but you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

You nod your head.

“I know, but like I said, I already promised Ms. Thompson I’d go with her. I’ll be back in a few hours, though. You’ll still be here then, right?”

She looks disappointed, but she nods anyway.

“Yes, I’ll be here.”

“John?” you hear Sharon call your name from down the hallway. “Are you finished eating?”

Her footsteps echo through the hallway and you know within moments she’ll appear in the kitchen.

You grasp Veronica’s hand.

“Come on,” you give her a gentle tug.

The voluptuous Latina smiles serenely. She allows you to lead her into the kitchen. She presses her soft body into your side for a few moments, but separates the moment Sharon enters the kitchen.

Sharon ditched her sports bra and running pants for a more conservative blue blouse and a pair of denim pants. She kept the ponytail, however, and her dark hair is even darker now that she’s showered. Her face lights up when she sees you.

“Hey,” she greets you before turning to Veronica. “Mrs. Ruiz. I thought I heard the front door open. How are you?”

“Safe and relaxed, Mrs. Thompson. Safe and relaxed,” her lips part open slightly and her eyes lose focus for a few moments before regaining their usual liveness. “And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Veronica?”

“Sorry, Veronica,” Sharon says. “So John, how was breakfast? Are you about ready to go?”

You nod.

“Yeah. Breakfast was good. Thanks for making it,” you say.

Sharon smiles.

“No problem. Alright, I think that about does it. Do you need anything before we leave?” she addresses Veronica.

The Latina MILF gazes at you for a few moments.

“No, we’re good. Which reminds me. I should go check on my daughter and see what’s she’s doing out there. I’ll see you later,” Veronica gives you a smile and a wink. She brushes past you as she leaves. There is an exaggerated sway in her hips as she walks down the hallway towards the front door.

Fuck. You really did a number on her, didn’t you?

Sharon gives you an inquisitive glance.

“I see Veronica’s introduced herself.”

You nod.

“Yeah, we talked for a bit. She’s really nice.”

Sharon smiles.

“She is. I can’t even remember how long I’ve had her coming here. She’s almost like family at this point, so I’m glad the two of you are getting along,” she says, and you wonder if she’s somehow relieved that at least one person she knows was actually nice to you.

A few minutes later and the two of you are in Sharon’s garage. The blue SUV she’d driven earlier is parked there along with a silver Audi convertible.

“Hey Sharon.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I drive the convertible? I think it’d be pretty good for my recovery.”

Sharon’s eyes widen slightly before she nods.

“I guess so,” she grabs a key off a nearby hook and hands it to you. Just like that. The car must be worth tens of thousands of dollars, but Sharon’s just going to let you drive it. You wonder how much influence it would take to get her to just give you the car. You can’t wait to find out.

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