Chapter 1

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Reluctant, Mind Control, Hypnosis, Magic, Heterosexual, Masturbation, Pregnancy, mc sex story,mc story.

Desc: Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Leslie is surprised when her sister falls pregnant...but even more surprised to find that he's a creep who thinks he has a magic cock that can make any girl want him. He's wrong...right?

"Oh god..." I said when I heard, unable to hide the disapproval in my voice. "Sasha, what have you gotten yourself into?"

"It's great!" Even over the phone I could hear how excited she was. Too excited, almost. "The doc says that he looks healthy, and I know it's way too early to feel it, but I swear ... I felt him kick."

"Him?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Well, obviously I don't know yet, but it's a boy. I can ... I can just /tell/, sis."

Even though she's a year older, I've always felt like it was my responsibility to take care of my "little sister". Sasha and I were bitter rivals growing up, something that continued right into our teens. When we turned fifteen and I suddenly grew a foot taller than her, some part of me felt that I'd "won", and the rivalry was (mostly) set to rest.

Since then, the relationship has changed ... more than anything, I'm protective of her these days. Obviously I love my sister, but she's so much more impulsive than me. She doesn't just leap before she looks, she leaps before she even knows where she's leaping from.

Despite her impulsive nature, the phone call telling me that she was pregnant was still ... surprising. To say the least.

See, last I heard, Sasha had decided she was a lesbian, and was dating a girl named Kathy. I think even she suspected it was a phase, but I don't think anyone expected it to end like this.

"Who's the guy?" I finally asked, after several minutes of Sasha gushing on about how excited she was to ("finally") grow boobs, for them to fill up with milk, and for her stomach to expand until it became her most prominent feature.

"Oh..." she said, and for the first time since she'd told me the news, she hesitated. After a few seconds of silence, she sighed, muttered something under her breath, and told me that his name was Gus.

"I ... I'm not sure that you'd like him though..."

"Oh god..." I sighed, for the second time that morning. "Sasha ... what /have/ you gotten yourself into?"


Over the next few weeks, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get any more information out of Sasha about the mysterious "Gus" that had knocked her up. She wouldn't tell me how they met, how long they'd been together ... she wouldn't even tell me what he did for a living. No matter what I asked, she just insisted that I wouldn't like him, and refused to give any more details than that.

My concern for my sister grew - at 24 years of age, she was barely able to support herself, let alone a child. And from the sound of it, Gus wasn't stepping forward to raise the child with her ... in fact, I didn't even know if he was aware that she was pregnant.

And so it wasn't long before I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I was around at Sasha's small one-bedroom apartment, as she insisted on showing me her breasts and seeking my opinion as to whether or not they'd grown. (I neither knew nor cared, but I couldn't deny that it was nice to see her so excited, and so I tended to nod my agreement to most of her enthusiastic pregnancy-related questions. I had to admit, the bump that was slowly start to show was pretty exciting ... and equally terrifying.)

When she made another of her increasingly-frequent trips to the bathroom, I saw my opportunity and took it. Rifling through her bag, it wasn't long at all before I found her cell phone, and found one "Gus" listed. I jotted down his address, and returned the phone to where I'd found it, just in time for Sasha to exit and tell me about her plans for the rest of the day.

"I didn't know you knitted..." I responded, and couldn't help but laugh when she admitted that she was only learning so that she could knit a pair of blue booties for her unborn child.


The outside of his house was nice - surprisingly so. Though I knew next to nothing about Gus, I'd mentally painted quite a specific picture in my mind, and the house didn't match. He should have lived in an apartment, with a creaky fire-escape and the sound of sirens, not in a nice house in such a nice suburban area.

I walked up to the door, and it opened while I was still mustering up the courage to ring the doorbell.

The man who answered was a much closer fit to how I imagined Gus. Short, balding, slightly overweight - he unashamedly leered at me for a few seconds, and I could practically feel his eyes burning through my top as he stared at my breasts. His gaze eventually made its way up to my face, and I saw a glimmer of recognition.

"Leslie?" he asked, and I nodded, too uncomfortable to speak. I'd never before been so frankly undressed by a man - he'd obviously been picturing me naked, and it was abundantly clear that he liked what he saw. As far as Gus was concerned, I was just a piece of meat, and I would have been surprised if he wasn't already imagining me on my knees in front of him, or on my back, his flab looming above me...

I shuddered at the thought, and swallowed.

"I ... I'm here for Sasha." I said, barely able to make eye contact with the man who had, it seemed, knocked up my little sister. I wondered why he was wearing nothing but a towel - his skin was wet, but judging by the smell, it was damp with sweat, not the wetness of a shower.

"Oh?" he asked, a sneer slowly creeping across his face. "/She/ sent /you/ here? Interesting..."

"She doesn't even know that I'm here. I ... I'm just worried about her. You ... you know that s0he's pregnant, right?"

It shouldn't have been nearly this hard to get the words out, but there was something about the repulsive man that was leaving me tongue-tied. Perhaps it was his unrelenting stare, or the way his tongue occasionally darted out across his lips, as if wanting to taste my skin.

I could imagine it now, the gross man standing over me, having stripped me naked. He'd drool, and I'd watch as the drop of his saliva slowly fell from his extended tongue, landing on me, showing me exactly how much he wanted me. One of his sweaty hands would reach down and slowly run from my neck down to my naked ass, leaving a trail of goose-pimples as it moved.

Ew. No. I shook off the nightmarish thoughts, and forced myself to focus - staring straight at his eyes, I used my steeliest tone of voice as I continued.

"Well, Gus? You've put my sister in ... the family way. Now tell me - what are you going to do about it?"

He just laughed in response, returning my gaze just as intensely. I couldn't believe that my sister, who'd always had such good taste in men (and women) before, had let this man fuck her ... and without protection, at that!

"I dunno," Gus finally said, after another long pause. He rotated his head and spat, the saliva travelling past me - an inch to the left and it would have hit me.

"Ugh," I said, unable to hold my revulsion back any longer. "What does she see in you?"

As if he'd been waiting for that exact question, Gus's smile broadened. He straightened his back, and his stare somehow became more intense. It was as if a switch had been turned on inside his brain, and his whole being suddenly lit up.

"Why don'tcha come in," he drawled arrogantly, "and I'll show you."

Bad idea, I know. No one knew I was there, and I'd trust Gus exactly as far as I could throw him. But I couldn't help it - my biggest weakness has always been curiousity, and I was so desperate to know what he could possibly show me that would explain Sasha's sudden desire for the hideous creature in front of me ... well, to get an answer to that question, I would have walked through the gates of hell.

Without a word, I followed him into his house - as he instructed me to sit on the couch in front of him, I was so focussed on his words that I barely even noticed the mess around me. Unlike the exterior of his house, the inside was filthy - clutter everywhere, half-eaten dishes littering the floor.

"You a virgin?" he asked, and I answered before I'd even considered the question.

"No," I said in disgust. "Not that it's any of your business..." I added, a few seconds later.

"You a lesbo?" he asked, and I just rolled my eyes in disgust.

"Just checking," he said, that huge, gross smile returning to his face. "See, the reason your sister let me pork her 'til she was preggers is simple.

"I've got a perfect cock."

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and then I started to laugh. I hadn't realized how much tension I'd been holding until I began to laugh, and it all drained out of me. I bent over with mirth, and a few minutes later, wiped a tear from my eye, straightened up, and made eye contact with the troll-like fellow in front of me once more.

"It's true," he said, without any hint that he was joking. "If you'd never seens a cock before, it wouldn't have quite the impact, but you'd still be able to tell ... mine is perfect."

My smirk slowly disappeared as I stared into his tiny, squinty eyes, and realized that he actually believed it. The nonsense coming out of his mouth ... he really thought it was true.

"Once a girl sees it, it gets into their head. They can't stop thinking about it - touching it, tasting it, licking it, sucking it. Wondering what it would be like to make such a perfect specimen cum, to feel it inside your mouth, in your throat, to feel it twitching with orgasm...

"And that's just the beginning. Soon they come back, and they ask me ... no, /beg/ me to fuck them. They want to feel my perfect cock inside every hole. They know that they won't be complete, won't ever be able to feell full, not until they've felt the perfect cock parting their lips, rubbing against their clit, filling them up with cum..."

I was staring at him, agape, as he raved. The passionate glint in his eye gave it away - he truly believed everything that he was saying. The insanity spewing from his mouth...

He thought that he had a perfect cock. He thought that was why Sasha had let him knock her up. And from what he'd said, he thought that showing it to me would have the same effect.

Oh god... /was/ this how he'd done it? Had he somehow managed to convince Sasha that his cock was perfect? It didn't make any sense, but ... well, Sasha had been taken in before. I remembered a few years ago, having to rescue her from a cult ... and of course, that time she'd lost her entire savings in a pyramid scheme.

This was exactly the sort of guy who could convince her. His confidence, the absolute conviction in his voice, the passion...

As I stared into his eyes, and saw the madman beneath, I knew I had to get out of there. If I didn't go along with his lunacy, he could turn violent. I needed to get out of there and save my sister.

Running was an option, but I hadn't been paying attention as we'd entered ... one wrong turn could lead me to a dead end, trapped in a house with a lunatic.

" ... and soon, she was begging me. She was begging me to knock her up, to let my perfect cock make her a woman. Does that answer your question?"

And just like that, just as quickly as he'd stood and begun his ravings, Gus was done. He sat down on the couch opposite me, and I internally sighed. He was still mad, but he wasn't standing above me any more, the bulge of his erection inches from my face, his sweaty hands waving around passionately. While I'd been formulating an escape plan, he had been telling me the story of how he met my sister.

Now that he was done, I knew that I had to get out of there. I had to get out of there and warn my sister, warn her that she'd been impregnated by a crazy person.

/You won't like him/, my sister had said. Understatement of the year.

"Wow," I said, standing up slowly, keeping eye-contact the whole time. "Well ... that explains that then. Anyway, I'd ... I'd better be going. Thanks so-..."

"You don't believe me," he said, cutting me off, the sneer back on his face.

"Of course I do." I quickly responded, inching toward the door we'd come in. At least, I think it was the door we'd come in. I'd seen how suddenly his mood could swing - I wanted to avoid any sudden actions, anything that could set him off. I spoke calmly, softly, making sure not to show weakness, but not trying to intimidate him either.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "All you need to do is take one look at my cock ... if you're not back here within the week, begging to suck it, I'll look after Sasha's sprog. Hell, she can have this house."

"That's very-..." I started, but again he cut me off.

"If I win, I can knock you up as well."

My hand on the doorknob, I froze. It was surprisingly tempting. All I had to do was /not/ come back and suck his cock, which was hardly going to be the most difficult thing in the world ... a house like this? I knew exactly how much Sasha had, and it wasn't much. Not having to worry about rent would make all the ... but no, what was I thinking? He'd show me his cock, and when I returned in a week, he'd just pretend the whole conversation never happened.

You can't deal with a lunatic. I learned that a long time ago.

"No, thank you." I said, opening the door, and quickly slipping through it.

Through the door of the closet I'd just entered, I could hear the wheezy sound of his laughter, and I waited until it had died down (and I'd calmed down) before I faced him once more. He was sitting back on the couch, beer in one hand and remote in the other.

I tried to avoid eye contact as I left through the room's only other door, and quickly navigated my way to the front door.

Tempting though it was, I didn't run - I could see daylight, and that was good enough for me. I took deep, calming breaths as I walked down the path, and when I was halfway down, jumped in fright as I heard his voice calling out from the house.

"You sure you don't want to take that bet?"

"Quite sure, thank-you!" I yelled behind me, not looking back.

"You don't know what you're missing..."

I paused when I reached the main gate. Even though my rivalry with Sasha disappeared a long time ago, my competitive streak had never left me. I found it extremely difficult to resist having the last word, and I was confident that even if he gave chase at this point, I could outrun him.

"Perhaps you don't /have/ the perfect cock," I began, slowly turning. "Perhaps you /are/ the... -"

I let out a gasp. He wasn't at the front door, as I'd expected. He was standing a few feet away from me - holding his towel open.

Of course I looked. It was impossible not to. He'd spent half an hour passionately raving about it ... you would have done the same thing. And as much as I'd hoped he'd have a squat, uncut dick poking out, a stub that I could laugh at as I left, I had to admit ... he had a nice cock.

Not perfect, mind you ... of course, the idea of a perfect cock didn't make any sense. Everyone has different taste, and no one cock could match them all. Some girls can't fit anything longer than a few inches, and I have a friend who claims that anything less than eight can't satisfy her. It was impossible for one penis to be everything to everyone.

No, Gus's was just ... nice.

I stared at it for longer than I care to admit. At first, it was just an automatic glance, then to see if it could possibly live up to the claims that he'd made about it. Then, once I'd admitted that it was a perfectly healthy, attractive cock, a part of me wanted to find an imperfection. Just one, just something that I could laughingly point out to him, demonstrate the flaw that made his cock distinctly less-than-perfect.

Nothing stood out to me. It was erect, and sitting at a nice angle - not low enough that I could claim he was unable to keep it up, but not so high that it was obviously pump-controlled. The length was ... well, I definitely wouldn't say "perfect", but there was nothing that I could think of to improve it. It wasn't too long or too short, too thin or too thick. It had a nice shape to it, almost elegant - a slight, aesthetically pleasing curve, and it had a good head on it.

It wasn't until he laughed that I realised what I was doing - I must have stood there, in the middle of his front yard where anyone could see, and stared at his exposed erection for at least a few minutes.

Without a word, I turned away and angrily stormed away.


I dreamt about Gus's cock that night. It was inevitable, really - dreams are a reflection of what's on our mind, even if only on a symbolic level, and all day, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the conversation I'd had with Gus.

How could someone be so insanely self-deluded? And, if such a person existed ... why on earth had Sasha been convinced by his mania? I'd only seen her and her girlfriend together a few times, but they'd seemed happy enough ... why would she leave her for this piece of trash?

And even if she did, somehow, believe his nonsense about having a perfect cock ... why had she thrown her life away, and let herself fall pregnant? We'd always agreed that we wanted to be mothers, but I'd assumed we were talking years away - and that love and marriage and all that would come first.

With all these thoughts running through my head, it was no wonder that when I finally got to sleep, images of Gus's cock ran through my head.

In my dream, it was huge, as big as a building - it towered over me, its single eye seeming to glare as a single drop of pre-cum slowly leaked out. I stared at it, entranced, as the drop grew larger and larger, until finally it broke free, and started to fall. Too late, I realized that I was directly in the fluid's path, and tried to dive out of the way ... but I was too late.

The drop enveloped me, and for the first time I realized I was naked. I tried to tread water, but eventually gave up, and opened my mouth - instead of drowning, the orb of water I was in started to seep into my mouth. It was sweet - the perfect flavor, I realized, and soon I was standing on my own two feet again, the taste of Gus's perfect cum in my mouth.

As I stared at the cock in front of me, I realized how inferior I was - before me was the most beautiful specimen of manhood that I would ever encounter, and I wasn't worthy to be in its presence. My body took over, and I dropped to my knees, praising its beauty, worshipping everything about it. My eyes noticed a vein pulsing, and suddenly my mouth watered - all I wanted was to take his member in my mouth, swallow it down, adore it, bring it pleasure however I could...

The idea overwhelmed me, and I closed my eyes - when they finally reopened, the mammoth cock was gone, and every inch of my body cried out in need. I hadn't even had a chance to touch it, but I knew that I missed it more than I'd ever missed anything in my life - and I knew that if I ever found it again, I'd pay Gus's magnificent member the due that it truly deserved.

No longer had the thought flitted through my head than I turned around, and found Gus behind me, that sexy, arrogant sneer upon his face. I began to cry with happiness as he walked toward me, naked, and allowed me to take his turgid phallus in my mouth.

/Yes... / I thought, as I went to work, fellating Gus as well as I knew how. It could have been seconds, it could have been years, but all too soon I felt him tense up as he unloaded himself into my throat.

At no point during the dream had I touched myself, but suddenly I was cumming, crying out with pleasure as every inch of me throbbed with arousal at the knowledge that I'd gotten Gus off, that I'd given pleasure to the perfect cock...

I woke up in a sweat. As repulsive as Gus was, I was so turned on ... I got myself off again and again, picturing his cock, imagining it entering my mouth, entering the wetness between my legs. I hated the man ... but I loved his cock.

It was less than four days before I found myself outside his door again.

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