The Continuing Education of Susan
Chapter 1

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Hypnosis, Mind Control, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Fiction, Group Sex, Polygamy/Polyamory,

Desc: Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Susan is learning Troy & Julie's secret and feels ready to fly on her own.

*”When I was a kid about half past three,
my daddy said ‘Son, come here to me.”
Says ‘Things may come and things may go,
but this is one thing you ought to know:
T’ain’t what you do; it’s the way hat’cha you do it.
T’ain’t what you do, it’s the way hat’cha you do it.
T’ain’t what you do, it’s the way hat’cha you do it.
That’s what gets results.”*
-Jimmy Lunceford, “T’Ain’t What You Do (It’s The Way That You Do It)”

Hi. My name’s Suzy-Ho. Susan’s usually the one who does these things, but since we’re getting our pussy eaten right now, she’s stepped out for a moment and I’m in charge. She’ll be back after we cum. I love cumming, it’s my favorite thing in the world.

I guess I should tell you about us, since that’s what Susan does in this part. I live in the head of a woman named Susan, along with my friends, Sue and Suzy-Q. They might show up later. Susan used to have a boyfriend named Chad who was really mean and hurt us a lot; not in a fun way either. So she made us in her head to help her get through everything. Sex is my department, and the job’s been a lot more fun since we got away from him. Less “I’m gonna do this thing to you” and more “Hey, you wanna try this thing with us?” Things aren’t bad anymore, but we’re still here in case she needs us.

See, we met a really nice and super-hot couple named Troy & Julie who saved us from him and fuck us WAY better than he did. Troy & Julie can control people’s minds. (So can their sexy friend Helen, who I SO need to fuck someday. Don’t tell Susan I said that, though; she doesn’t like Helen.) They’re teaching us to do it too, and I’ve gotta tell ya, it’s totally hot. Our friend Brenda agrees. Or she would, if she weren’t mindlessly lapping at our cunt right now. She’s been letting us practice on her. All of them say I’m really coming along ... coming along ... cumming along ... Cumming ... CUMMING!!! MMM! OH FUCK YEAH! GOD YES!!! FUUUUUUCK!!!

Ah, shit, that was fun. We now rejoin your regularly scheduled Susan, already in progress...

Hi. My name’s Susan. I need to have a talk with someone about using the computer.

Choice of words aside, Suzy-Ho’s summary of my life to this point was accurate. For the past couple months, Troy and Julie Equals have been teaching me how to Do What They Do. I’ve learned enough to get why they don’t like to outright say that it’s “mind control” now. Aside from making it seem cheap, it’s more complicated than that.

Even with the two of them having done it since they were children, they’ve had difficulty explaining it to me, because it’s a very personal thing. As I’ve been studying and practicing the things Troy and Julie have shown me, I’m getting a clearer picture of it. But it’s hard to express; like some foreign concept that doesn’t have a direct translation into English. Terms like “suggestion,” “mesmerism,” “Neuro-Linguistic Programming,” and “Sparkling Eyes” all come close to it, but not quite. I haven’t even got a full grasp of the concept, and it’s inside my head. As you’ve seen, though, it’s got some company in there.

And our ... well, I can’t exactly say “friend,” she’s THEIR friend, but I can’t totally say I hate her anymore, either. I’ll just say “Helen” for now. They taught it to Helen shortly after they learned it, and whatever her concept was, it’s different from theirs. All three of them have done it to me at one point, and because of something about me that Troy’s never really explained, I’m able to think about how it felt afterward. I can tell you that Troy and Julie use a more gentle approach: They tell you something and all ideas about not doing what they say or why you shouldn’t just shut down in your mind. Troy’s explained that there are varying degrees of it. Even when he demonstrated how he did it to Chad, (I asked him to do it to show me.) it felt forceful, but like someone not looking where they’re going; bumping into your mind and knocking your thoughts down. Helen’s felt more like someone had deliberately plowed into my mind after getting a really good running start from a couple blocks away.

Wow, that makes it sound like it IS some kind of psychic thing, and that’s not right either. I feel like I’m screwing this up badly, so let’s just go back to saying “I’m in the early stages of learning to control minds.”

I brought Brenda out of the trance state I’d put her in. She came back to reality with the usual look of mingled calm and the kind of disappointment that one might see on the face of a 6-year-old who’s been at Chuck E. Cheese’s all day and is now being told it’s time to go home. I looked at the clock and handed her a bottled water. She’d been at it for an hour.

“So, how’d I do?” She asked.

“Amazing as always, Slave,” I said, holding her chin and slowly guiding her up to my face for a kiss. I don’t go for the master/slave thing, especially because “Master” and “Mistress” have a different meaning around our house than you might think; but Brenda does, so I indulge her. “What about me?”

Brenda grabbed her glasses from the desk and put them on. Even without them, with her tongue lapping my clit, she still looks like a hot librarian. I mean, she IS a librarian, and she IS hot, but people meeting her for the first time don’t even ask what she does for a living, they just assume she’s a librarian, and they’re correct.

“Fantastic, Susan! I really felt compelled to obey. You’re doing great!”

“Thanks,” I replied.

“I’m fucking wet, though, if there’s anything you’d like to do about that.”

“Seems only fair,” I said with a smile, getting up and taking her hand, leading her to the bed. We laid down and resumed kissing as my hands explored her body.

“Could... ,” she breathed as she removed her glasses again and set them on the nightstand. “Could you take me back there, first?”

I nodded and looked her in the eyes as I bent down to kiss my way down to her pussy, punctuating each sentence with another kiss. “Return to that place, Brenda. That place where you don’t need to think. Where you can’t think. Where all you can do is relax. And listen. And feel. And obey.”

Her eyes glazed over and her mouth hung open as I reached her slit and began to return the favor. Brenda’s known Troy & Julie longer than I have. Troy first Did What They Do to her when he was in college and she was the school librarian. As luck would have it, she turned out to have a mind control fetish that I might even call more intense than theirs, and the two of them had one long before they were old enough to comfortably call it a fetish.

And therein lies my problem: With her, I always have a willing participant for practicing on; however, the fact that she IS so willing and gets so aroused by being made into a mindless sex slave makes it impossible to get any productive feedback from her. She’s always so eager to volunteer that everything I do meets with her approval, and I know I’m not good enough yet to compel her to be completely honest and unbiased about it. Since I’m trying to learn this for myself, asking Troy or Julie to do it for me would feel like paying someone to go to a doctor’s appointment in my place.

As I licked Brenda to her first climax, I remembered the first time I’d been with another woman and enjoyed it. (There had been one time before, when Chad forced me to try with a stripper in front of him and his friends for his birthday. It went badly.) The day I met Troy and he brought me home to meet Julie, she’d also been out and brought home Claire, whom I consider the real first other woman I’d ever been with and is now my boss. She owns a small chain of yoga studios and I’m her executive secretary, which means we occasionally slip away to do what Brenda and I were doing just then, but without the mind control fetish part. Claire knows what they can do and what I’m learning, but she’s more comfortable with the polyamorous sex than being controlled, and Sharon (Whom you haven’t met, but trust me, she’s nice; goes to school with Troy.) isn’t someone I know all that well. I couldn’t ask her either.

“Well, you know what you’ve got to do, then,” Sue said in my head as Brenda began mindlessly bucking under me. I shifted position so that my own pussy was hovering over Brenda’s face. Her tongue began to slide up and down my slit with slow, mechanical strokes. “You’ve got to ... ummm, she’s good ... you’ve got to do what they did: find someone hot and bring her home too.” My response was an affirmative-sounding moan into Brenda’s slick crotch. Of the occupants of my skull, Sue is the most practical one.

I agreed with her. Tomorrow at work, I’d find a woman to bring home. I could go looking for a man, however, I subscribe to Julie’s philosophy nowadays that other women are a whole lot of fun, but Troy’s got all the dick I need. That’s why so many of our friends that tend to hang out around the house are woman: Troy doesn’t play switch like the rest of us. He said he tried it a couple of times long ago, figured out that he wasn’t into it, and hasn’t looked back.

Troy, Julie, and yes, even Helen, all have the sort of unshakable confidence that comes from being able to make everyone around them do what they say, and I could feel that confidence filling me as I felt another orgasm begin. They’d both be working tomorrow, (They were having one of their “Just Us” nights that evening, and I give them their space unless they invite me.) but they’d just be a phone call away if anything went wrong. It was time for me to try flying solo on this one. I couldn’t wait to go to work tomorrow.

Then, as I began thrashing on Brenda’s face, I realized that yeah, I could.

Have I ever mentioned that we live in Federal Way, Washington? I haven’t? Sorry, that was rude of me. We live in Federal Way. Inner Claire-ity Yoga’s original studio, and still the one that Claire and I consider “the office,” is in Tacoma, where I used to live with Chad; very technical definition of “live” that it was.

As I sat at my desk the next morning taking care of some paperwork, I looked up and out the glass wall at the morning class. Morning classes in the middle of the week tended to consist of the serious enthusiasts, as opposed to the people who wandered in with a coupon and never came back after the first session. Twelve of the kind of toned and dedicated bodies that could hold a Camel Pose for more than ten minutes were on the other side of the glass. One of the benefits of working here was being able to sit in on the occasional session, but I was nowhere near their level.

Despite the loveliness before me on display in the studio, I’d decided on the drive in that it would be a bad idea to look for a subject where I work. Apart from potentially upsetting Claire, I was still uncertain how successful I would be and afraid I’d scare off a customer. If I were at Troy or Julie’s level, I could have stepped out there and turned the class into an orgy, but that wasn’t the kind of business Claire wanted to run, and I couldn’t think of a decent way to broach the subject of “Hey, boss, mind if I practice the things I’ve been learning by seducing a repeat customer” to her anyway.

Claire came out of her office with a stack of papers under her arm and set them on my desk, setting her hands on both corners and leaning over. I snuck a look down her shirt before craning my head upward to meet her eyes. She had a look of exasperation on her face that softened a bit when she noticed I’d been checking her out.

“Rough morning, Boss Lady?” I asked her. I pretended to straighten the little pewter model of the original USS Enterprise that Julie had given me a couple weeks ago and now sat on my desk as an excuse to brush my fingers over the back of her hand on the way. The wall that looked into the studio was one-way glass, which had been convenient when one or both of us had needed some “stress relief” at work before.

“Not yet, Susan,” was her response as she reached out and rested her hand on mine. She was the boss, and we do take the occasional “long lunch” together, so she didn’t have to be subtle if she didn’t want to. “But it will be. It’s Tread the Boards Day today.” We groaned at the same time at the thought.

“Tread the Boards Day” was Claire’s term for one of the more annoying aspects of the business. About 65% of a yoga studio’s advertising is word-of-mouth. Another reason I didn’t want to choose one of the customers. If it didn’t work, “the owner’s secretary tried to come on to me” may or may not make for a good Yelp review, depending on the reader. The occasional coupon in The Stranger only accounted for another 10%; the other 25% of our advertising came from flyers on bulletin boards at supermarkets, coffee shops, organic markets; and gyms and spas that didn’t offer their own yoga classes. That meant that either I or Claire had to spend at least one day a month driving up and down I-5 and Highway 405 and making all these little stops to ask if we could put up a flyer, then tacking them to the bulletin boards. Then an idea hit me.

“Well, you know, Claire,” I said, turning my hand over so it was holding hers and making little circles on the back of her hand with my thumb. “If you covered Tacoma and Lacey and I went north and handled Puyallup and Kent, you could be done in a couple of hours and all that driving could be my problem.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Claire responded with a knowing smile. “And be ten minutes from home, so no sense coming all the way back here just for the last couple hours of the day, and you might as well knock off early, I suppose.” I smiled back.

“It’d also free up a bit of time on our schedules.” I stood up from my chair and put my arm around her waist. “We’d have time for a nice, enjoyable lunch before we headed out.”

Claire put her arms around me and slid them down to cup my ass. “We could save even more time if we just had a little nibble in my office, Susan. Why don’t we continue this discussion in there?”

“You sure are smart, Lady,” I said with a little smooch. “Guess that’s why you’re the boss.”

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