Lucky Stiff - Cover

Lucky Stiff

Copyright© 2004 by JiMC

Chapter 43 -- Seventeenth Birthday

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 43 -- Seventeenth Birthday - In the second entry of the Lucky Tickets saga, our hero learns about friendship, love, and other important lessons about life as this tale follows him through tenth grade and into eleventh grade. (46 Chapters plus a Prologue and Afterword; 334,465 words total)

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Romantic   Mind Control   Magic   MaleDom   Oral Sex  

When you're a fool in love,
And nothing goes the way you plan.
And no one cares,
And no one understands,
That you're a fool...
And you're in love!

--A Fool In Love (Randy Newman)


On Monday morning, I found Roy waiting with Sherry as June drove me and my sister to school. I now knew that Roy and Merry were an unofficial couple, although I still did not come to terms with my feelings about this. The fact remained that Roy has always been one of my closest friends since elementary school, and I really didn't want anything to come between us. I knew that I would need to investigate my feelings about this some time soon.

I gave June a kiss before I got out of the car, and I opened the door for Merry. As Roy approached us, I said, "Roy, I have a favor to ask."

Roy glanced nervously at Merry and then back at me. "For you, anything."

I smiled. "I have an idea to make this year's talent show the best one ever. The money it makes is supposed to go to help out the chorus, so I figured you guys would be thrilled with what I have in mind."

Roy looked a bit surprised. "Are you thinking of entering?"

"Not in the way that you're thinking. I want to donate the services of the jazz band to help the performers look great. We have some bitchin' players and singers, and as a back up band, we can really make people sound great!"

"The jazz band..." Roy's voice trailed off, and I could see the cogs in his mind turning. A smile came to his lips.

I smiled again as I saw Roy's reaction. "I thought you'd appreciate the idea. Can you pass this along to the other chorus members and any of the jazz band that you see? I'd like to have a special jazz band practice tomorrow afternoon to go over some ideas. It's all voluntary, and it won't be an official jazz band event, since I don't want the band to eclipse the real stars of the event... the people actually performing."

Roy nodded, his mind far away.

I glanced at my sister. "I'll leave the two of you guys alone. Don't be late for first period!"

June and Sherry accompanied me toward the school.

"That's a real cool idea!" June said.

"Maybe the cheerleaders could help," I said, smiling.

"The cheerleaders?" Sherry asked.

"Sherry, you have one of the best dancers that I've ever seen offering to help you train the cheerleaders. I'm sure Lynette would be thrilled to help you guys help out the chorus."

"Ooh, Lynette," June said, gushing a bit.

"So you're saying that you want to provide a back up band and have the cheerleaders as back up go-go dancers?" Sherry asked, a bit suspiciously.

"Not at all," I said. "You guys are used to performing on the football field. I'd imagine you would love to help out people who might be afraid that all the attention would be on them."

Sherry looked at me warily for a bit, but then softened. "You have a heart of gold, Oogie."

I gave both June and a surprised Sherry a quick kiss on their cheeks and headed off to my calculus class.

As I hoped, thanks to Roy, word quickly spread about my ideas for the talent show. I had a few people come up to me--people I didn't really know--and offer me some ideas.

One boy told me that he knew a few magic tricks but was a bit shy about doing the talent show.

Since this wasn't a musical performance, I was intrigued. I smiled and asked, "What kind of tricks do you know?"

The boy was surprised that I took an interest. "You know, card tricks. I have the three balls trick, and the one with the interlocking rings."

"Could you use an assistant?"

"Huh?"

"Most magicians have a beautiful assistant to help take the attention off the magician as he does his misdirection."

"Yeah," the boy said glumly. "I wish."

"Do you know Sherry Jordan?"

"The cheerleader?"

"Why don't you ask her if one of the cheerleaders would be willing to help you out?"

"Sherry would never talk to me!"

Oh, lord. This kid reminded me of myself not so long ago.

I smiled, and said, "I'll be with June Rodgers and Sherry during lunch. That's fifth period for me."

"I know," the kid said. "I have lunch the same period."

"Cool," I said, a bit ashamed that I still didn't even know the kid's name. "I'll introduce you and make the suggestion myself. You're name is..." I paused, hoping the boy would help me out.

"Doug. Doug Dooley."

Well, that was an easy name to remember. "Well, Doug, I'll see you in fifth period, then!"

I left an amazed Doug behind me as I wandered late into band class.

As I entered the lunchroom during fifth period, I spotted Doug and went over to him. "Come sit with me." I nodded toward the table where I usually sat.

"That's the cheerleader table," Doug whispered.

I shrugged. "They love performers. What can I say?"

Doug didn't seem sure of himself as I led him to the table. I introduced him to Sherry, June, and the other cheerleaders at the table and explained my idea. Sherry and June tried to think of somebody that would be perfect to be an assistant to Doug.

A cheerleader named Becky softly said, "I'd love to help Doug. I've always been fascinated by magic."

Doug was a bit tongue-tied.

I was about to speak for Doug, but Becky turned to Doug and asked, "Do you think you could teach me magic as I learn to be your assistant?"

Doug stammered. "Um... sure... I guess..."

It took a few minutes, but before long, Becky had invited Doug to sit across from her, and the two of them were soon in their own little world within the lunch room. Both Sherry's and June's eyes sparkled as they looked at me.

I changed the subject slightly and asked about other ideas for the talent show.

When the period was over, Sherry came over to me. "I think it was nice what you did for Doug."

"Huh?" I asked. I just helped him get an assistant, after all.

"I've never seen you play matchmaker before."

I laughed. "Me? A matchmaker?"

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," Sherry noted. "Heck, you're cute all of the time."

"Aw, shucks, ma'am!" I said with my best Southern accent. I noticed that damned similarity with Mac Davis' voice once again. Quickly, I switched to my real voice and continued. "Actually, I think Becky did more than I did to get the two of them together."

"Becky is almost the shyest girl on the squad," Sherry said. "I thought I was bad! It was unlike her to offer like that."

"Well, I hope the two of them hit it off."

I left the lunch room and headed toward Mr. Proilet's music theory course.

My teacher caught me as I entered the room. "I see you've got the rumor mill working full speed. A number of students have already contacted Ms. Kendall about performing."

I couldn't help but be pleased. "That's great. I have some ideas for some surprises, too."

"Like what?"

"Heck, if I tell people, they won't be surprises!"

The two of us laughed and Mr. Proilet went to the task of teaching his class.


After June dropped me off at the apartment, I found Kristen sitting alone in the living room.

"Hi, lover boy!"

"What's up, Kris? Where's Lynette?"

"Lynette is gossiping with Cammy and Will. I wanted to talk to you alone about your birthday present."

"I thought you already made plans. This weekend in Chicago, right? Wrigley Field?"

Kristen didn't immediately answer, but simply looked at me.

I knew something was up. "What's wrong?"

"Um... nothing is wrong... I... uh..."

I waited for Kristen to find her voice.

Finally, Kristen said, "I've decided what to get you for your birthday. I'm going to give you Sherry."

"What?" I was incredulous! "Whether you're talking about a cheerleader or a drink, I don't think that's very funny, Kris. You know how I feel about both!"

"Come on, Jim. I mean... I know what she wants to do, and I've been thinking about it..."

"Kristen, you can't give me Sherry. You don't own her!"

"You know what I mean! I'm giving you free rein. I'll even let you take her to Chicago."

"No."

My immediate and negative answer took Kristen by surprise. "No?"

"No. No fucking way, no how. You're not giving me Sherry. You are not even going to permit me to be with Sherry."

Kristen wrinkled her brow. "What happened to you? Something about you has changed!"

I thought back on my tantrum in my music studio the previous day and nodded. "I've decided to take charge of my life. I'll deal with the problems that the tickets caused, but I'm no longer going to feel guilty about them, nor will I allow myself to be forced to do something that I don't want to do."

Kristen narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"

I shrugged. "I'm not going to abuse the tickets anymore. I'm no longer going to live my life apologizing for them, either. They will not control me or my life."

Kristen didn't respond, but continued looking at me warily.

My explanation needed elaboration. "Sherry's current problem has been caused by the tickets, and I will deal with that. It's just like your addiction being caused by the tickets. We'll need to work these things out, one by one. I'm just through pulling out my hair because of the damned tickets."

Kristen shook her head slightly. "What are you saying?"

I sighed. "Kristen, my love... my Goddess... I love you, and the best birthday present I could imagine would be you and me in a hotel in Chicago. You said that you'd like Lynette to join us, and that's fine. I don't feel that way about Sherry, and bringing her along with or without the two of you would make me miserable!"

"You mean... ?"

"Kristen, you are my love. You can't give me Sherry; she's being forced on me. It's not the same. I said that I've given up feeling guilty about the tickets, but throwing Sherry and me together would just start that all right up again. There must be some solution to Sherry's problem, and I will try my damnedest to fix it, but I'm not going to fix it by sleeping with Sherry on my birthday."

"I... I didn't think of it that way."

I nodded. "I know." I bent down and kissed this lovely girl of my dreams. "You are all that matters to me. I want you to be happy."

"You want Lynette to be with us in Chicago?"

"Why not?"

"She's... I mean..." Once again, Kristen paused. She was at a loss for words.

Softly, I said, "Lynette makes you happy. You make me happy. We all make each other happy."

Kristen sprang out of her recliner so fast that she caught me by surprise and the two of us went flying onto the shag carpet. "I love you, Oogie!"

"I love you, Goddess!"

Kristen started working on the button on my jeans. "Make love to me!"

We made love.


Lynette walked into the living room as Kristen and I were going at it for the second time. We were in a sixty-nine position this time.

"Get a room, you two!" Lynette said, laughing.

I tried to answer, but Kristen's pussy muffled me. I happily resumed my task of licking.

For her part, Kristen didn't let up on her intense sucking, swallowing me deeply.

Lynette walked around us, turned on the television, and curled up on the love seat. I'm not sure she was watching the game show or Kristen and me. It really didn't matter to us at the time. Lynette saw the two of us many times now, and once more wouldn't bother us.

I was wrong.

I heard a familiar chuckle, and recognized Camille's voice. Again, I tried to say something, but Kristen seemed to realize this and ground her crotch tighter against my face.

"You'd think the honeymoon would be over," Camille said, apparently to Lynette.

"Oh, they fuck like rabbits all the time," Lynette said.

"Technically, that's not fucking," Camille observed.

"Be that as it may," Lynette replied, "I'd give them a nine point oh for technique, and a perfect ten for enthusiasm."

"Camille... oh, my!"

The new voice belonged to Will Swift.

"They're at it again," Lynette said. "Kristen's not going to stop until he explodes."

I was, by now, getting a bit of performance anxiety. My impromptu sex act with Kristen wasn't intended to become a spectator sport. Lynette was one thing. Camille and Will were completely different.

Will seemed to be the only person that had a sense of propriety. "This isn't right! Camille, I think you and I should go down to the billiard room." There was a pause, and Will added emphatically, "Now!"

"Spoil sport!" Camille said, her laugh fading as she left the room.

I heard the television click off, and the door closed a few seconds later.

It was a good thing, too. Kristen's talented mouth got me close to the boiling point. Within a minute after our guests left, I started pumping my second load of semen into Kristen's mouth.


Kristen went downstairs to tend our guests after the two of us showered together.

A few minutes later, Camille came up for a visit. I was actually expecting her to show up alone.

"Hi, Jim! I'm sorry about before. I was just teasing, and Lynette seemed so... casual about it. Will told me that you were getting very embarrassed."

"Well, I don't usually put on sex shows for my friends," I replied.

Camille nodded. After about a half minute, she said, "Jim, I was wondering..."

I waited. Camille usually didn't have difficulty in asking for a favor.

"I've been wanting to... you know... do a double with Will. You know... two guys and me. I haven't done that since last fall."

I shook my head. "What game are you playing, Camille?"

"Huh?" Camille looked a bit confused.

"Are you still playing the slut game? I would have thought that it would have gotten old by now. You are no more a slut than Will is."

Camille looked too surprised to answer me.

"Cammy, I've seen the way that Will and you look at one another. You stare at one another. It's exactly the same way that Kristen stares at me, and the way that I probably stare at Kristen. The two of you stare at each other, and neither of you give a shit who sees you doing it."

"So?"

I sighed. "I've seen Will with one of his so-called male friends. I think his name was Robert. Will never looked at him that way. In fact, I think he was bemused with Robert. He even called him a flirt. I think that perhaps Will is only pretending to be a homosexual."

"Will? Pretending?" Camille sounded incredulous.

"Oh, he'll go through the motions, but his heart doesn't seem to be into it. He knows the right things to say, and he even sort of identifies with them. However, something about the way he talks about homosexuality doesn't seem to be as genuine as when he talks about other things. I realized that after I first met him in Boston. You're a smart person, Cammy. Do you mean to tell me you didn't notice this about him?"

Camille looked shocked. "Huh?"

"Should I go on?"

The two of us stared at each other for a few minutes.

I said, softly, "I've seen Will look that way with two people. That would be Kristen and you. Kristen is his sister. I know it's deeper with you, though."

Suddenly, everything became clear to me. The missing pieces of the puzzle were falling into place and the picture they revealed was amazing.

Camille lowered her eyes. "When did you figure this out?"

"I knew about Will for a while, but I didn't know about you until yesterday... but most of it came to me just now."

Camille nodded. "What did you decide about me?"

"You're not a slut. Maybe you were at one time, but now you are only pretending. From what I think I know about the tickets, I figure that if your sister made you a slut, then you'd have lost that need to be one once I found the tickets. That would have been a year ago. So, you've been pretending. Why? I have no idea."

Suddenly, another thought hit me. "Fuck! Last year, you told Kristen and me on separate occasions that you had a crush on her--I remember it. That was never true, was it?"

Camille was open-mouthed at this.

"Cammy, I was thinking about Lynette yesterday. Lynette and I talk quite a lot. Our favorite topic is Kristen, but we talk about other things. Lynette always said that she had a crush on Kristen. What's funny is that you used nearly the same words as Lynette, but your actions never matched hers at all. With Lynette, Kristen is her driving focus. I can see that you, on the other hand, were only playing a game with Kristen. I mean, you said you were a slut, so I didn't look closer. But now..."

Camille still was standing there with her mouth wide open. "But..."

I didn't let Camille finish. "The big change happened at Kristen's birthday... when you met Will. You never expected that, did you?"

Camille lowered her eyes again. "No."

I took a deep breath. There was one other thing that bothered me about Camille, and I figured that it was time to do the experiment.

"Here, Camille," I said, putting my right hand in my pocket. I pulled out a purple ticket. "Have a ticket."

Camille's eyes widened, but she reached out and took the ticket. "You have one wish," Camille said in a monotone.

"I wish that you will remember what just happened, and realize that the tickets once again work on you."

"Your wish is my command. HOLY SHIT!" Camille's face was a mask of horror at the realization that she was once again at the mercy of the tickets.

I shrugged. "Please take care and try not to deceive me again, Camille." I had delayed this last remark until it was after I made my wish, so that Camille was by no means compelled to obey my request. I already had enough of forcing people to do things with the tickets.

Camille looked aghast at the ticket in her hand. Once again, she was at a loss for words. "How... ?"

"It was a hunch--a good one, but it made sense."

Camille was still staring at the ticket in disbelief. "But... when you handed it to me in the car... and last year... it didn't work!"

I nodded. "Both times were before I destroyed Tim Hawking's tickets. I thought something changed. Look at the ticket in your hand."

Camille furrowed her brow. "What about it?"

"Look at the number."

The blonde read out, "Two hundred fifty four."

"I've never given out that many. I noticed this when I put them away after using them as a truth serum with Sherry a few days ago."

"Do you think..."

I shrugged. "My guess is that they combined. The strange thing is that Tim's tickets didn't work on you, and my own tickets didn't work on you... However, now that I have destroyed his, my tickets now seem work on you again."

"This is weird!"

There was silence for a couple of minutes. Finally, Camille asked, "What do we do now?"

"I want you to love Will. You love him already, so that won't be a problem. I want you to live your life, but I don't want you living a lie, and I suspect that you don't want to live that lie any more. You are not a slut! There's going to be a big problem if you keep pretending that you're something that you aren't. You can tell Will that I think that he's pretending as well, but I think I know why he does, and I think I even understand it."

"What about the tickets?"

"They are my problem. I'll deal with them."

"But..."

I shook my head with finality. "But nothing, Camille. They are my problem."

Camille saw the look of determination in my face, and didn't argue. As with Patty and with Kristen, Camille didn't seem happy about my decision.

I didn't care. They were my responsibility after all.


"What did you do to Camille?" Kristen asked me when we were alone.

"I told her the facts of life, Kris."

"Huh?"

"I told her that she's in love with your brother. She is, of course, and you know it. However, you were wrong about her. She's quite willing to give up everybody else for him."

Kristen shook her head. "I don't think so... and my brother..."

I interrupted my sweet Goddess. "Your brother loves her, just as much as we love each other. You were wrong about him as well. He's been looking for Camille all his life. He just doesn't realize it completely yet. Maybe he'll get advice from somebody he trusts."

"Like who?" Kristen asked, apparently wondering if I meant her.

I remembered that Will dreamed of talking with his mother. If Camille tells him what I told her, then it would only be a matter of time before his mother, or whatever part of his brain was responsible for his visions of her, would confirm what I said.

"He'll find somebody," I answered cryptically.

Kristen shook her head and shivered a bit. "You are starting to sound a lot like Patty."

This brought a smile to my lips. "You're right! I think Patty would probably say the same about the two of them!"


On Tuesday, most of the jazz band showed up for the special practice. Some people had other plans or jobs, and that didn't worry me very much. I had a good idea already who was dedicated to the band and who was interested in the perceived popularity that being a member of the band could bring to them.

I decided to start by explaining my ideas for the talent show.

"I'd like the band to participate, but not just as a group. Instead, I want us to be an enabler for other people to perform as well." I recounted my apparent success with Doug Dooley and thought--naive as such a thing could be--that others could achieve similar results. Not every performance had to be musical after all.

I ended with a pep talk. "If you have any ideas, no matter how outrageous, let me know! Let's make this an event that will be an E-ticket for years to come! We want this to become an event that people will want to come back to, year after year."

Since this rehearsal was planned at the last minute, I didn't keep people for the full hour and a half. We let out just shy of an hour, which meant that I would have to wait another forty-five minutes for June to come out from her cheerleader practice.

Since I didn't have anything to do, I wandered onto the football field, where the marching band was doing some drills. They were focusing on marching and patterns, but occasionally played their tunes.

I ended up spending my time in the bleachers watching the marching band. When they played, I would notice how the acoustics of the outdoor setting modified how the sound would reach the audience. I was surprised to see a person actually playing the flute... there was no way that the soft tones of that instrument would ever make it through the morass of sound from the brass instruments to the ears of the people in the bleachers.

After more than a half hour, Mr. Harris, the newly hired marching drill instructor, saw me in the bleachers and came to visit me.

"Ah, Mr. Crittenhouse. Have you reconsidered the marching band?"

I laughed. "I have enough stuff on my plate right now, sir." I waved toward the band. "I was noticing how different the acoustics are out here compared to how the band sounds in the auditorium."

Roger Harris gave me a surprised look. "That would be a given."

I didn't want to sound like a show off, so I didn't make any critique of what I saw and especially heard. I instead allowed the marching instructor to talk.

Mr. Harris liked talking about his work. "I'm giving them some traditional marching tunes," Roger explained. "These are easy to learn, and they can then focus on their drills. Next year, however, we can work on more complicated things."

"The drills were never interesting to me," I admitted.

"Ah, but they make the people who watch them interested!"

"I heard that the band will be getting new uniforms this year."

"Yes, and you know who donated the money that made that possible, Jim."

I nodded. "They'll still be blue and yellow. The hats will have two different... what do you call them?"

"The colors are blue and gold," Mr. Harris corrected. "The hats have plumes."

"Yeah."

I saw June walking toward me, and I was sorry that I didn't have more time to talk with Mr. Harris. He really was a likable person once you got to talk to him about things that really were important to him.

I turned to the teacher. "Have you ever considered doing things... well... differently?"

"This season is going to be different from last year," Mr. Harris answered. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

My mind conjured up an image in my mind, but I figured that the teacher would really think I was bonkers if I explained it to him. "Oh... I was watching and thought some crazy thoughts."

"Like what?"

I noticed that the teacher was really interested in my opinion. "Well, here's something obvious. You don't have singers!"

Mr. Harris laughed. "Voices would never carry!"

"Hmm. You're probably right." I most certainly did not mention that I felt the same about the flute players.

June joined us. She heard my last remark, and frowned at Mr. Harris. The teacher, on the other hand, didn't really know me that well, and didn't know that I used that expression when I felt that somebody--usually an adult--didn't get what I was telling them.

The two of us bade Mr. Harris good-bye, and June led me toward her car.

When we were out of earshot, June asked the question. "What didn't he understand?"

"I heard the band play a song that I've always loved. I was thinking about maybe doing it radically different, but I guess my idea is really way out there. I feel he's wrong about some of the instruments, though."

June was silent the rest of the way to her car. After we backed out of the parking spot and were on the road toward the apartment, June finally said, "I know you, Jim. You'll get him to see things your way, even if you have to bring the entire marching band into the talent show to prove it!"

That comment put a lot of images into my head. I started laughing out loud. "You know, June... that's a great idea!"


On Wednesday, I saw Megan Gallagher in the hallway. She was one of the best flute players that I ever heard in person.

"Megan?" I said as I approached her. "Do you have a second?"

"What's up, Jim?"

"Do you play piccolo?"

Megan looked at me strangely. "Most anybody that plays the flute can play the piccolo. Why do you ask?"

"I have a song that I'd like you to play in the talent show."

"The piccolo? That's too harsh for a solo."

I gave Megan the flute part of a song I heard the marching band play. "The part is actually for a piccolo. See?"

Megan scanned the music and furrowed her brow. "Wow! This is a piccolo feature, isn't it?"

I told Megan my idea for the talent show and she laughed heartily. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Oh, it's just the kind of weird thing that I think about."

Megan continued smiling. "I'd be happy to do this. I have a piccolo at home."

"I'll borrow some from Mr. Proilet."

"Borrow?" Megan asked.

My only answer was a smile.

The bell rang, indicating that the two of us were late for class. We bade farewell and went our separate ways.


Thursday, the eleventh, was my birthday. I woke up that morning receiving one of June's mind melting blow jobs.

I sighed, and smiled remembering my favorite line during one of June's B.J.s a couple of months earlier: "What a way to die!" I made sure that I didn't utter that line this morning, remembering June's coughing reaction as she started to laugh while sucking me deep.

Despite the fact that June was busy, my mind registered the fact that I was alone in the master bedroom with June, and I asked, "Where are Kristen and Lynette?"

June, who was situated between my legs with my cock in her throat, simply looked up into my eyes, with a glance that plainly asked, "Do you really expect me to answer you with this monster in my throat?"

June continued her work. All too soon, I started feeling my balls churn. My release was imminent. I went to move my hands onto June's head, but I found to my surprise that my wrists were bound. I looked from right to left and saw that some red knitting yarn was loosely tied around my wrists and fastened to the bed. It wouldn't take a lot of effort to break from my restraint, but the fact that it was there told me that I wasn't to move, so I didn't.

June sensed my impending release, and simply pulled her head up, releasing my dick entirely. "Happy birthday, Oogie!" she said, giggling.

I watched in stunned silence as June hopped off the bed and out of the bedroom entirely.

I looked at my erection, which was wet and red and demanding attention.

As if on cue, Lynette came into the room, dressed in one of Kristen's expensive lingerie outfits consisting of a pair of white panties that looked almost like a thin horizontal line around her hips coming to a "T" at her crotch, and a nearly transparent white camisole on top. Neither piece of lingerie hid any erogenous zone on Lynette.

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