Auntie's Island
Chapter 2: Waking Trance

Copyright© 2010 by blacknight99

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 2: Waking Trance - The Long-Awaited Sequel to THE ADDICTED NATURAL

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   ft/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Mind Control   Hypnosis   Slavery   Light Bond   Harem   Lactation   Pregnancy  

WILLIE:

This is so frustrating. I have never written anything before. Auntie told me, one beautiful morning (it seems so long ago now), that I had developed a very large vocabulary. At least for someone my age. Whatever that is. But she never let me read! Anything! And now she wants me to send Mama Ann emails, writing about what happened when I went back home to the island. About what happened to me while I was there. I have only been reading for a few months now, thanks to Frederick and Dee. If you have never been allowed to read, can you begin to imagine what it is like to be made to write? Dee is making me use the computer to write this. She gave me a chart. I can only use certain fingers for particular letters. Touch typing, she calls it. I asked her what "typing" is. She laughed, explaining that the word comes from using some sort of ancient machine. Almost every other word I "type" now is underlined in red on the computer screen, meaning that I misspelled it. Mama Ann says she will correct it, once I have sent it to her. I HATE THIS!

Please imagine that I just sighed. I will do as Auntie says. I have done that my whole life. Even now, after I have given myself to Fredrick, my new Master. Even now. I will do as Auntie says.

After I introduced my new family to my old one, after Auntie asked us to follow her up to the house for lunch, I ran ahead and walked with her. I had talked to her often on the telephone from Illinois, but I was still shocked by her appearance. She looked ... the same. Just the same as she always did. The last time I had seen her, I was certain she was dead. I had held her lifeless, naked body in my arms, crying and crying, but through the tears I saw a sight I will never forget. The shotgun that Rudolph had used made dozens of little holes in her, all between her stomach and her breasts; and while the holes were scattered around the edges, the center of the wound was a collection of holes that seemed to form one big one. There was SO much blood! It was all over my hands. All over my tee shirt and shorts. All over everything! And now, she was just as healthy, just as beautiful, just as alive as she had always been. I asked her how she felt, if she was still in pain from her wound.

But she laughed at my serious expression and told me that she felt fine now. She had been very weak for a long time, she said, and very sick, too. It was still difficult for her to talk about the Captain, her lover, whom she was sleeping with that night. She told me that he was buried here on the island now. And then, she changed the topic abruptly, and I never heard her speak of it again. She scolded me for not telling her how "powerful" Dee was. I insisted that I HAD told her that Dee had strong talents when we spoke on the phone.

"'Strong' is a poor choice of words, Little One," she chided. "Tell me, does she have ambitions?"

I blinked and told her I didn't know what she meant.

"Is she headstrong, willful, independent?"

I laughed out loud at the question. "Dee?" I said, perhaps too loudly. I calmed myself and leaned toward her to explain. "Dee is the most docile, subservient girl I think I've ever met. She worships Frederick, and she's the best friend I've ever had!" I thought about that for a moment. "After Brenda," I added quietly.

She smiled patiently and patted my hand. "Yes, Brenda. Everything revolves around Brenda, doesn't it?" I looked at her curiously, but she would not be turned from her topic. "You must teach Dee, Little One," she continued sternly. "She has no idea what she is capable of doing. Hopefully, she will never fully know. But YOU must help her define her limits."

"ME?" I shouted, and then lowered my voice so that those walking behind us couldn't hear. "Auntie, Dee is, like, a gazillion times smarter than me! She knows, like, EVERYTHING! She's teaching me to read! I don't think I could ever teach HER anything!"

"Oh yes, you ... like ... can," she stated firmly, then looked with mock sternness. "You talk like an American!" I laughed gaily and tucked my arm through hers. She sighed and continued. "I'll explain things to YOU, Little One, and then you can teach them to her. She values your advice far greater than you can imagine. She loves you." She regarded me closely. "You have taken her as a lover?"

I blushed. "Yes, Auntie, but I didn't take her. I don't think she exactly took me, either. It just happened. And Brenda, too. And, of course, Frederick. I could never deny myself to him. He is my Master." I felt myself blushing even more. "I would never deny myself to ANY of them."

"Turned into a little fuck-bunny, haven't you?" She tried to make her mouth a firm line, but it twitched upward at the ends.

I shrieked a gasping cry of indignation before dissolving into to a fit of giggles. The others were staring at me. I tried hard to stop laughing, and finally whispered in her ear: "Oh, Auntie, you horribly neglected your duties as my teacher and mentor! Why didn't you ever tell me how absolutely WONDERFUL it could be to serve as the family fuck-bunny?"

...

FRED:

Why is it that imagination, that most wondrous of human attributes, can fill the mind with a thousand pictures and still hit so far from the mark of reality? "Beautiful," Willie had told us, and so I bid Mr. Imagination to pull up a tableau entitled "beautiful." Height, weight, hair color, all explained. No pertinent information withheld. I'd heard her voice on the phone. One's mind forms pictures. My pictures were all wrong, to say the least.

Let me put it this way: If my imagination had started with the woman herself, and then been tasked with placing her in a more appropriate environment ... well, I'd STILL be hard pressed to explain, but I think I could justify it. If "Auntie" had been a Barbie Doll (imagine a little "R" with a circle around it there), dressed only in undergarments and awaiting directions from the Marketing Department, I would have stuffed her into a white gown over lots of hoop petticoats and made her "Antebellum Barbie" on a southern plantation. Or perhaps "English Country Garden Barbie," sipping tea and watching the men ride out after a fox. Or maybe "Countess in the Court of Louis XVI Barbie" strolling around the gardens at Versailles. But definitely NOT "Island Barbie" in the 21st Century! Auntie was just as indescribably out of place on that island and in this time period, as she was indescribably beautiful.

I learned, over a light lunch of fruit, salad and cheese, that her true name was either non-existent or simply ignored. For a very brief time on her internet website, she had been referred to as "Auntie Griselda," but when I asked about it, Auntie had looked embarrassed and rather peeved, while Ann had laughed uproariously. It seems that Ann is the "webmaster" of the little project to help "gifted" children through a time of "learning and adaptation." After Auntie had been wounded by our old pirate friend, Rudy, during a period when Ann seriously thought Auntie would surely die, she looked through some records in Auntie's private room in search of relatives to contact. That's when she had stumbled across the name. Auntie, once she had recovered, had forbidden its use; but after a petty argument, Ann had posted it online as a joke. A short-lived joke, I might add.

Everybody called her Auntie. Just Auntie. And when I asked the question privately of various individuals, the answer was always the same. "That's what we've always called her." But I felt extremely uncomfortable calling a woman who was clearly younger than me "Auntie."

Raul was constantly casting surreptitious little leering glances at Brenda. I actually TRIED to feel jealous about it, and in fact, considered hating the man; but the truth of the matter is that the brawny fellow embodied just about every trait in a human being that I liked. And hell, ALL men leer at Brenda; and practically all people, men and women alike, are attracted to her. No, Raul ... and Jonathan, too ... became two of my closest friends almost as soon as I met them.

After lunch, Ann showed us all to our room; a gigantic space on the opposite end of the long, ranch-style villa from Auntie's own bedroom. It had a single, king-sized bed in the middle of the room, with large glass doors and windows overlooking the lagoon below and the sea beyond. Outside the door, a small porch yielded an even more picturesque view, and trails meandered downward toward the sea and along a tree-lined cliff to a small bungalow, which was where Jonathan and Ann lived. Evidently, Raul also had his own dwelling.

Raul asked me to help in the job of hauling everything up from the boat below, noting that if all of us fellows pitched in, we might be able to do it in three ... or possibly four trips. There was our luggage, of course, and also about a week's worth of food and other supplies to be brought up. The only thing we had managed so far was a massive amount of baby paraphernalia. But as I got up to follow him, Willie stopped me and asked if she could have me do something first ... only a few minutes, she said; so I excused myself and told him I'd be out shortly.

"Frederick," she said solemnly, "you haven't hypnotized us for, like, DAYS now."

I laughed at her earnestness, but saw right through her little plot. She loved her hypnosis ... there's no doubt about that ... but it was really Brenda that she was concerned about. My wife was the one that was held so much in the grip of raw need, when it came to being hypnotized. Dee and Willie almost didn't seem to think about it until something or someone (usually Brenda) "reminded them" that they were slaves to its addiction.

I looked around and surveyed the situation. Dee blushed and looked demurely at her feet as she sat on the bed. Brenda was almost panting in anticipation. Fortunately, Lizzy was asleep in her portable "day bed," which was part of the aforementioned paraphernalia.

"Okay," I told them, picking up my backpack and fishing out the slim mahogany box containing the pocket watch. "Everybody on the bed. Sit down."

There was nothing but silence from them now. Their expectancy was so thick I could feel it. Maybe it HAD been too long. I waited until they had settled themselves in a row, sitting on the big bed facing me, before I held up the pocket watch before their staring eyes. Dee gasped audibly.

"Remember to breathe, please," I urged. "Just stare at the watch, now. Follow the watch as I swing it back and forth ... back and forth ... back and forth ... just like this ... just like this ... and relax. Yes, that's it ... relax for me ... more and more ... back and forth ... more and more relaxed. Yes..."

If I could have devised a contest, a sort of "race to relax" sort of thing, Brenda would have easily lead the pack; but then, she'd been doing this longer than the other two girls. She wanted this so badly that she was constantly one step ahead of me in my induction. Already, her arms were hanging leaden, one in her lap, and the other sliding down to hang over the edge of the bed. But I was hypnotizing three women simultaneously here. I'd done this many, many times, and I had eventually found, sort of by trial and error, the best way to do it. If Brenda got a little ahead of the others, no harm resulted; so I found that I had to arrange things based on the slowest of the group, which inevitably was Willie.

"I am speaking only to you now," I told them all. "Listen only to my voice. Follow my voice. Follow. Obey my voice and follow. Back ... and forth ... back ... and forth ... more ... and more ... relaxed." I timed my commands to match the rhythm of the swinging watch. "And now," I continued, "you feel the heaviness ... heaviness in your hands ... and arms ... and breasts ... and head ... so ... heavy ... so ... heavy." They were all sagging noticeably now, slumping, staring. Brenda could hardly keep her eyes open. "And you just follow ... my ... voice ... Follow ... my ... voice ... Follow ... follow ... submit ... and obey ... Submit ... and obey."

"Submit and obey," they each droned, in time with the swinging watch, in perfect harmony and cadence. "Submit and obey." This is the way I'd set up their hypnotic submission. This is the way it had been from the beginning. This is what they needed. More than anything else in the world.

"Yes, watch the watch," I continued, and they fell silent again, listening, following the swing of the watch with their eyes. They all seemed to be struggling internally. They had been programmed to fight the watch, even knowing that any resistance whatever was futile. This made the final surrender to the trance sweeter ... more total. "Back ... and forth ... heavier ... and heavier ... only ... my voice ... only ... the watch ... tired ... and heavy ... and sleepy."

They were almost gone. All resistance had been vanquished, now. They only wanted one thing. It was time to give it to them. "Surrender and sleep," I ordered. Even now, after all this time, they tend to surprise me. In this case, they all plopped backward onto their backs in perfect unison. They were out. Completely.

"I am speaking only to you now," I said, knowing that this greatly personalized the feelings that each of them craved. "You are in your private room, lying naked on your soft, soft bed ... drifting ... drifting." Brenda moaned gently. I studied them. I really had to leave to help the guys carry supplies up, but I couldn't leave them like this while I was gone. There was the baby to consider, and Auntie or Ann might wander in. Finally, I decided on something that was relatively new in our lives ... something I'd read about online, called a "waking trance." I would leave them each in a state that sort of hovered between their two worlds.

"Sit up, now," I ordered. "Here in the real world, make your body sit up. Do it now." I waited while each of them struggled into an upright sitting position, next to each other again, but this time without regard for her other two "sisters in slavery," as they often refer to themselves. "In a moment, I will count to three, and when you hear me finish counting, you will no longer be in your room ... you will be in the real world, and yet still in your deep, deep trance. You have done this before, haven't you? You like this, don't you? Still in your trance, and yet back in the real world." They were each nodding, smiling. "And you will stay in your trance until I come back and wake you up ... or until Lizzy wakes up from her nap. If she cries, you will wake up immediately and take care of her. But until then, you will still be in a deep, deep hypnotic trance ... knowing that if anybody saw you, they wouldn't know, would they? And you'll stay here ... here in this room, until I return. And if anyone comes in and talks to you, you will answer that person, talk to that person, normally, naturally ... and that person won't know that you are deep, deep in the grip of your hypnotic trance. One. Two. Three."

They opened their eyes and smiled at me, sitting placidly, calmly. I smiled back. Then I turned and walked out.

...

DEE:

Oh, I LOVED being like that! I watched, rapt and silent, as our Master turned and left the room, and I thought: I'm still asleep! I'm sitting here, and I'm asleep, and nobody knows it! But then I turned to my left and looked into Brenda's glazed eyes, and I turned the other way and returned Willie's blank stare, and I turned to Brenda once again and said: "You're asleep, too!"

 
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