A New Day Dawns for Susan
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Hypnosis, Mind Control, Romantic, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Wife Watching, Group Sex, Polygamy/Polyamory, Oral Sex, Masturbation,
Desc: Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Susan is ready to learn Troy & Julie's secret. There's just one person left to convince.
“And she was lying in the grass.
And she could hear the highway breathing.
And she could see a nearby factory.
She’s making sure she is not dreaming.”
-Talking Heads, “And She Was”
Hi. My name’s Susan. There was some confusion about that for a while, but yes, I’m sure of it now.
You don’t know me unless you’ve read a story called “Long Day’s Journey Into Susan,” available wherever fine erotic mind control stories are posted. For those who came in late, let me give you the quick version:
Orphan, abusive thieving douchebro boyfriend, Borderline Multiple Personality Disorder developed to cope, met a great guy, great guy turned out to have girlfriend, fucked great guy in the college library anyway, librarian would later turn out to be great, great guy’s girlfriend turned out to be cool about it and pretty great too, great group sex with great guy, great girl, and great future employer; great guy and girl turn out to be able to control minds, offer to get rid of douchebro and come live with them, accepted, great guy and girl force douchebro to watch them fuck brains out like he never could and run him out of town, great couple get everything he stole back and help find great job with great boss/fuckbuddy, come to grips with multiple personalities, eat great girl’s pussy while great guy proposes to her, do lezzie act with great girl and librarian on stage, pseudo-evil mind controlling old friend of great couple crashes party, sleep through strangest wedding prank ever, stay home and help online while all those great people get to go to Europe to prank old friend back, receive iPad and bag of other cool expensive gifts from their pseudo-evil friend for reasons still unclear.
You know, that same old story.
Talking about my life these days without talking about Troy & Julie Equals, the great couple I mentioned in the Cliff Notes version, would be like having an interview with The Pope on the condition “Don’t bring up the whole ‘God’ thing.” Born neighbors and best friends for life, learned how to control minds, taught it to a friend who became pseudo-evil, got together; she’s a graphic designer and artist, he’s going for a doctorate in Economics; met me, moved me in with them, got married, just got back from Europe. Their story is easier to tell and much nicer than mine.
The day I met them, we had Chinese for dinner, and my fortune cookie said “A New Day is Dawning for You.” I’ve never gotten a fortune so prophetic. It’s now in my purse, along with more stuff than I think most women carry; a habit born of frequently having to flee the apartment to escape the ex-douchebro in the middle of the night.
From the sound of things, though, I wasn’t going to have to carry all that much longer. I had a safe place to live and cool, sexy people to live with; although in the early days, there was always that worry in the back of my head that I’d do something to screw it up. Remember that Next Generation episode where they find the peaceful paradise planet and then Wesley steps on a flower bed and it turns out the punishment for that is death? I figured that was coming any second.
It took me a while to figure out that not everyone is the douchebro (You know what? His name was Chad, that’ll save me some typing.) and that I’d have to go trampling that flower bed for them to toss me out. Instead, they helped me to get in touch with the other women in my head and all of us are learning to get along. I’d rather not talk about them just yet, but I think we’re all good for now. One or two might show up at some point.
Most importantly, though, was that the last time I’d talked to Troy about whether or not they should teach me how to “do what we do,” (Their term for how they control people.) he and Julie had both agreed that I was ready for it. However, since the last time they taught someone, she ended up becoming the pseudo-evil friend I mentioned before, (Ok, her name’s Helen, same deal with Chad back there.) we’d decided that all three of us had to be completely sure that I was ready. (Six if you count the other women in my head that I still would prefer to not talk about right now.)
I gave them a few days to recover from their trip, as well as deal with the Ferrari that Helen had loaded onto their plane home with the luggage and a note saying it was a gift to Julie for reasons that, again, are still unclear. Julie said she’d made a joke and thought Helen was kidding; Troy said she should know better than thinking Helen’s joking when it comes to elaborate, expensive gifts. The argument over whether or not to keep it ended with Julie saying she’d figure something out.
I say argument, but really, I’ve never seen the two of them have a fight that lasted more than a minute. With an open marriage, the power to control minds, and the investments Troy’s made for both of them (And me. He’s gonna be a great economist. Is there an Economists’ Hall of Fame? I’m sure Troy would have told me by now.), the Big Two reasons couples fight; Sex and Money, are never issues. Here’s a typical sex conversation:
Julie: (suspiciously) Is that red hair on your shirt?
Troy: (defensively) Yeah, is that brown hair on yours?
Julie: (accusingly) Yes it is. Did you fuck her?
Troy: (angrily) Yeah, I did. You fuck yours?
Julie: (arguing) As a matter of fact, YES! I FUCKED HER! You wanna eat my pussy while I tell you about her?
Troy: (committed to the bit now) Only if YOU give me a long, slow blow job while I tell you about MINE afterwards!
Julie: (running with it) Ok, then! Hey, Susan, we’re gonna play “How Was Your Day, Hon!” I suppose YOU’D like in TOO, wouldn’t you?
Throw in a “Master” or “Mistress” here and there and you’ve just witnessed An Argument Amongst Equals. (Oh, THAT’S why they both changed their last name when they got married! I get it now! (I’m fucking with you, I totally got it.))
When they’d had time to settle in at home, I was hanging out with Julie in the living room, having a Sweatpants and Wine afternoon. Julie had just finished a project and was taking a couple of days before starting the next; and Claire, my boss/fuckbuddy who runs a small chain of yoga studios, was out of town checking out a site for a new one. That meant her executive secretary/long lunch partner could work from home today; which meant 5 minutes ordering more yoga mats and balance balls, followed by seven hours and 55 minutes of Law & Order SVU marathon while hanging out with one of the hottest women I know. (Again, my job involves travelling between three, soon four, yoga studios and I stand by that statement.)
In retrospect, the scene looked like the setup for every lesbian porno I’ve ever seen. Probably because by the time Troy got home, he was likely to walk in on one. Seeing one another engaged in sexual activities with friends was something the two of them had grown accustomed to by the time they were out of high school, and I was past being fazed by it from living with them this long, whatever role I was playing in the scene.
The TV was tuned to an international news channel recapping a story from earlier in the week. Helen was standing at a podium and talking to reporters about “admiring the people’s honesty” and that she loved the joke so much that she wanted to make it an annual “Festival of Cupid” event, encouraging tourists to come see how they’ll top it next year. “Come to San Finzione! But, ah, this time, leave the kids home,” La Contessa said with a wink. That quote and image of her would later become the slogan and posters for their tourism ads.
She was also appointing a representative from amongst those involved in the joke to bring any of the group’s concerns to her. A reporter asked why a young man with no experience beyond being a butcher’s delivery boy would be appointed to such a position, and she replied with a smile “My top advisor has recommended him and has spoken to me at length about his qualifications. They shall be working together very closely on this matter,” briefly turning and smiling at a pretty young woman standing behind her whom Julie smiled at and pointed out to me as Maria.
I asked Julie if her new Ferrari (That Troy was off getting a building permit to add an extension on the garage so she could keep.) and the gift bag she brought back for me were related to that and she nodded affirmatively. She switched the channel to some Light Alternative Music station where we could listen to douches with plaid shirts and acoustic guitars sing-whine about how much they wanted to fuck us.
“The bag is Helen’s way of saying that she’s sorry about what she did to you at the party and wants to be your friend. She’s never really figured out the whole people/things/emotions deal. I’d suggest just accepting it and I’ll tell her you said thanks; unless you have something you want to say to her yourself. If we just send it back, she’ll keep doubling down and adding to it until you either agree or every surface of this house is covered with high-end electronics.”
“I don’t even remember talking to her the first time,” I said, enjoying the last sip of my glass and debating pouring another. “And Troy would dig that last bit.” Settled on a ‘yes’ on another glass, poured it, then took the shiny 18 karat white gold Lady Datejust watch from the bag and dangled it from my fingers. (I checked Amazon to see how much it cost. Holy Fuck!) “Well, I never thought I’d have a Rolex.”
“Girl never forgets her first,” Julie said, grabbing the bottle once I was done and refilling her own glass. I slipped it on my wrist. “Troy seemed eager to give the bag to me, so I guess it’s important to him. I’ll accept. And I’ll thank her myself later.”
Julie smiled and took a drink. “My Math Boy likes it when all his women get along.”
“Might’ve been easier to get along if I’d met her,” I half-said, half-mumbled into my wine glass before taking a sip.
Julie slid over and put her arm around me.
“Troy thought he was protecting you. Helen brings a lot of stuff out of him, not all of it good. He’s cute when he gets that whole John Wayne ‘stay here, little lady, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do’ thing going, though.”
I shrugged in agreement, but not in a way to suggest she should remove her arm. “Still, when you were there, he was talking about how you two think I’m ready to learn your thing and I agree, but he’s barely said anything about it since you got back.” I slid my arm between her back and the couch to put it around her as well. Julie leaned in closer until I could smell the wine on her breath as she spoke.
“He’s a care-er, that one. He still sees the frightened, wet, shivering little girl in muddy, ripped pajamas that showed up on his doorstep one night when we were all eight. He always needs a little time to recover after seeing Helen.”
“And is that how he sees me,” I asked. “Still wearing long sleeves and sunglasses to hide the bruises Chad gave me and sheepishly asking to use the library computer?”
“Oh, no, dear,” Julie said, giving me a little kiss for emphasis. “You never got to meet Troy’s Propappou, but he loved Helen too. He even tried to adopt her a few times, but her father wouldn’t let go of his favorite victim. By the time they locked the piece of shit away for good, the adoption people said Propappou was too old to take care of her.”
I took another drink and set the glass down to put my other arm around Julie. “Everything you two have told me about Propappou makes me sad I never met him.” Propappou is Greek for “Great Grandfather,” by the way. I had to ask about that.
Julie’s hand had inched its way down my back and casually wriggled its way under my shirt. It was moving back up now in what would soon become an effort to remove my shirt. I let it do its work and looked into her eyes. No Makeup and No Underwear were the only two rules of a Sweats & Wine session. She didn’t need the former and neither of us needed the latter.
“The point is,” Julie said. “She’s family. Family fucks with your head. That’s their job. He’ll be all right in a couple days.”
“Will he, though? What if your little game of Cat-and-Also-Cat got to him?” I took a sharp breath as she combined the over-the-shirt boob grab with her “I know you’re not wearing a bra” grin. A lethal combo that would normally end the conversation right there, but I still had more to say. “What if he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want to risk me becoming another Helen? I’ve been around long enough to know that Troy’s not going to break a promise, however...”
Julie completed the thought for me with a sigh. “If he really thought the stakes were that high, he’d reconsider; yes, I see what you mean. Then that leaves us two options: Wait for him to come round, or ... Take the initiative.”
She pulled off my shirt in one motion to emphasize her point before leaning in for more kissing. I pulled her shirt off too to signify the route I wished to take; soft hands on bare skin becoming an even more essential part of the conversation as we were going along.
“I’ve seen what you two do with it,” I said, caressing one of the perfect breasts that were now on display in front of me. It seemed rude not to. “You help others and you fuck a lot. You make life a bit easier for yourselves too, but who wouldn’t? And it’s mostly the first two things. I want to be able to do that too.” I looked down at the sweatpants she wore. They were that horrid shade of gray that seems to exist only as sweatpant material. The positive effect of which is that I could see a small wet spot start to grow on hers. I didn’t look at my own, but I’m sure mine was coming along nicely as well.
I leaned forward, the hand that wasn’t on her breast settling on Julie’s knee and beginning to creep upward as I continued talking.
“Do you know what else I see, Julie? In you, in Troy, in that woman on the screen?” I gave her a deep kiss as my hand found the elastic of her waistband and started working my fingers under it. Julie moaned her approval as her hands slid down my torso, seeking my own waistband. “All three of you just exude this absolute confidence in yourselves and everything you do. Troy’s good with math and money, so he’s becoming an economist. You’re a great artist and you’ve got your own graphic design business and art career. I don’t know what Helen studied in school...”
“World Cultures and Languages,” Julie hissed out as my fingers found her slit and she began working my own pants down my legs.
“See, that makes sense too. She looked so regal up in front of all those reporters. Like maybe she always knew she was going to rule some part of the world and wanted to be ready. And me?” I slipped a finger inside her and gloried in the look of lust on Julie’s face as her hands found their way to my own snatch. “I dropped out of high school to start waitressing to pay Chad’s bills. You guys helped me get my GED, but that confidence; that knowledge that whatever you choose to do with your lives, you’re going to excel at it. The level of confidence that could ONLY come from being able to mold the minds of those around you, THAT’S what I want more than anything!”
I wriggled my finger inside her and slipped a second in as her first entered me, feeling her shudder as I worked her pants off with my other hand and slipped out of my own. I kissed her deeply again, then pushed her back and kissed a line down her neck to her breast as I spoke.
“You two have been able to do this thing since you were kids, so you don’t know what shit life is without it.” I took her nipple in my mouth and licked and sucked it nice and hard before proceeding to the other. “I know what it is to be completely powerless, and I never want that again.” Julie lay all the way back and spread her legs as my kisses grew nearer to where she longed for them to be. “All I’ve had to work with in this world is what every woman does, but you two can give me something special.” I could tell I’d already convinced her, but was having too much fun to stop.
“You see, Julie,” I said as I gave her now-dripping pussy a first experimental lick. “A wise man once said ‘you don’t ASK for power, you TAKE it!’” Another lick, my fingers sliding back into the equation. “Imagine how much BETTER this could be if I could do what you and Troy do. If I could bring you to that magical place that you took me and Troy to that night we broke my bed. Don’t you want me to do that to you?”
“YES!” Julie scream/moaned as I stopped talking and focused on licking her clit. “Oh, fuck yes, Susan! We need to share it with you! I’ll help with Troy, just fucking eat me!”
I smiled and went to work.
Troy returned from getting the building permit a couple of hours later. He walked in the door with an over-the-top 50s sitcom “Hi, Honey, I’m home!”
Julie and I were sitting on the couch, waiting for him. We’d both showered and gotten cleaned up and I was now wearing a black lace teddy. She was wearing a white version of the same outfit. We’d bought them together.
Julie walked across the room and gave Troy a Welcome Home, Master kiss (They were into hypnosis and mind control long before they were old enough to be called fetishists. They’ve always called each other Master and Mistress like other couples say “dear” or “honey.” You get used to it.) that lingered a bit longer than normal, promising what the rest of the day had in store for him.
“Troy, you’re probably the only man in the world who has ever heard the following words in a good context: Your wife and your girlfriend would like to have a word with you.”