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Hypnotising His Grandmother

Part Two

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

_ _

Greta bit her lip, the road before her car in the increasingly late-afternoon sunshine less and less appealing. It seemed to want her to turn back but something about her was not right, tingling with anxious heat, prickling energy thrumming up inside her that did not even want to be contained. As much as she squirmed and wriggled and shifted her weight in a dress and heels that she had not worn in years (they were not quite suitable for the hospital but there was very little in her non-house wardrobe that would not have been somewhat suitable for those premises).

What was wrong with her? She didn't understand, could not understand, but it was not necessary that she understood either. There was a big, black span in her mind from the time that her grandson had appeared in her house that afternoon and, from then on, things had been dark. It was not something that she felt intrinsically worried about, per se, but it was a little disconcerting, to say the least, to not remember something like that. Maybe she was just worried about the patient at the hospital waiting for her or maybe it was that she was indeed forgetting a few things in her older age?

Greta frowned. Old age – hah! She wasn't quite there yet!

Her body seemed to agree with her on that count, something shifting on her thighs, a frown pulling down at her lips. What was wrong there? That wasn't something that she'd felt in years but, sure enough, her shaft rose, throbbing, filling with blood, harder and harder the more she tried to ignore it. Nothing she did or thought about softened it in the slightest as her car moved into the city and to her hospital, which, thankfully, was not smack bang in the centre, her rate of breath increasing slightly as she tried not to think too much about it.

Ignore it... It'll go away, you'll see.

_ _

Only, it didn't go away, her confusion mounting right along with her frustration. Need flourished within her, hot and spreading, something that could not be contained. It had never been something that was supposed to be contained by the human body, a form that was designed to reproduce as much as it was intelligent with the larger brains, more highly functioning than so many other species. Yet even that intelligence could be overruled by instinct and the demand of such a body when push came to shove.

It was time for Greta to be pushed.

She panted, not able to catch her breath, even though she did not quite feel that it was cause for concern either. She tried not to worry about too much in her life but she was, at least, thankful for the fact that traffic was light that weekend afternoon. Maybe everyone was out in the countryside, enjoying the good weather, or maybe they were preparing to head out for a night on the town, even having dinner with both friends and family. Yet it was her duty to be there as the on-call doctor, the one who had the knowledge to be brought in on short notice to help the needs of their patients.

It was usually something that she enjoyed doing, the fact that she was needed still settling to her mind while her job was well and truly secure. Yet her shaft throbbing took all of that from her mind as she swallowed hard, licking her lips, no amount of little sensation able to take her mind away from the main event, what sought to so very desperately dominate every last corner of her psyche above all else.

It hadn't pulsed like that in years, its desperation evident. Pulling into the hospital car park, her hand drifted to it and was yanked away a moment later as if she'd been burned, fingers twitching, tapping against her thumb in quick succession: one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. She couldn't touch it, not there, couldn't do anything about it, finally realising that she was not even wearing the underwear that hid it and whimpering out loud.

“What am I going to do?"

As much as she was needed, she could not help herself, racing into the hospital with her bag in hand, hair tugging itself free from her tight braid. She had to get through, had to work her way through, had to get to her medicine before it was too late! Her shaft ached, demanding her attention, but she could not even stop for her colleagues and those she supervised in the still-busy hallways as she raced to her office with all the haste she had at her heels.

Her high heels, not tall enough to stand out but enough for her, clacked anxiously as she whipped around the door, slamming it closed behind her. Yet there was not even time for her to lean against it and catch her breath, the call still needing to be answered, though she was not even sure what call that was. Whereas her expertise was needed at the hospital, it was not dire and she had time to take a breather for herself, something that was sorely needed as she locked the door with a shaky hand.

“Oh heavens..."

Her cock pressed up to the door, leaving a wet spot on her dress, and she blushed furiously, searing hot patches creeping down her neck and across her chest. It was a need that could not be helped and she took some medicine measuring cups out of her desk drawer, something that had been rattling around in there for a good, long time but that she had not paid her due attention to before. Perhaps that was to her misgiving misguidance, her brain foggy, her cock all of a sudden in her hand and her dress hiked up. Greta moaned out softly, one hand spread flat on the desk with space between her wrinkled, aged fingers. When had that happened? Not the ageing, of course, but her cock getting out and hard like that? And why was it so hard all of a sudden?

It didn't matter though, nothing mattered, not while her need was so high. She wouldn't be able to focus on work if her needs were not relieved, after all, it was what she had to do. Justifying it to herself may have been one way in which she gave herself permission but it was all by the by as she moaned out loud, rocking her hips, the desk chair squeaking under her, a special one that she'd ordered for her comfort. It was not the best for masturbation, however, as she tried to brace her heels into the floor, the wheels rocking her back and forth as if she just could not stay in one place for too long, need fluctuating and pumping up all the more.

It wasn't going anywhere in a hurry but her mind was apt to drift, thinking of someone, the figure of a strong, fit male body taking form in her mind. She licked her lips and moaned out loud, though she did not know who the body belonged to. Was it some model that had been on TV lately or a movie star? It was hard to say but there was a dark cap of black hair, trimmed short around the young man's ears, a modern man who knew how to take care of himself and of “his woman" too.

Yes, that was what she needed, someone to take care of her. No one had taken care of her for so many years that Greta doubted that, honestly, she needed anyone to look after her anymore, though it would have been nice anyway. A kind word and a gentle touch and, of course, sexual attention too went a long way and even she needed that, as much as she pretended not to need it. She was not as harsh inside as she came off on the outside but, well, people had formed their opinions of her long ago and she had many of her own that may or may not have been said.

But the man in her mind's eye was not someone that she'd seen on TV, relaxing of an evening, but her very own grandson, David! She jerked to attention, flushing heavily for all the wrong reasons, the rush of emotion bringing a prickle of tears to the corners of her eyes. She wasn't upset but such bodily reactions could not be helped as she tried to backtrack as swiftly as she could, shaking her head, turning her mind from him.

No, no... She must have only have been thinking about him because he'd been there with her that afternoon, no other reason. She couldn't possibly actually want to fantasise about her grandson, that was absolutely absurd. If she'd had the time for such folly, Greta would have laughed out loud. That was so silly, something that would never have happened...

And, yet, her mind drifted once again, imagining his strong, young muscle, how good he looked. Sometimes that was all a man needed when it came to appearances, simply to look “good". The young man didn't seem to need to do anything special at all to make hearts throb and her breath caught in her throat as she moaned out loud, shivering in place while her hand worked her cock more and more.

She tried to take her mind from her grandson but it was no good – not even that fit actor would drag it away! Her cheeks darkened with a blush but it was hardly as if anyone was there to police her thoughts and she whimpered softly to herself as she let them roam wild. He would push over her with strength and power, she was sure of it, dominating her, taking her, her cock throbbing deliciously as her pussy dampened down for him. The light curl of hair around her crotch was trimmed back, exposing the lips of her cunny against her dress and the seat where the fabric had been hiked up, a sensation that was both chilling and oddly erotic at the same time.

It was too much, all too much, and she could not help but moan out loud as she imagined just how desperately her grandson could fuck her. In her mind's eye, he bent her over the desk where she sat at that very moment, her backside raised for him, offering her grandson easy access to her cunny to be pounded – no, that was not right. Greta licked her lips deviously, bosom shuddering. If she was to be fucked over her desk, that made what was between her legs a cunt, to use the more delectably crude term for its intended purposes.

“Yesss..."

At long last, she had to let herself go, let need flow through her, pumping her up thick and full and strong, her body better when she was with David. Her grandson could treat her right, better than any other woman had ever been treated before, though Greta had no idea where such thoughts were coming from while her hips rocked and pumped, desperate for the release of the ultimate high. Her need was so stark that the tiniest droplets of pre-cum even managed to ooze from the tip of her cock, though they were swiftly smeared down the length of it as she moaned and grunted, eager for that pleasure that had not been hers in so very long.

It could not be held back as an image entered her head of her on her back in her wedding lingerie, how finely the silk and lace clasped her body, though she was far from virgin in that image. With her grandson between her legs and bending them back, his cock filled her cunt perfectly and she howled out his name, climaxing right there and then as her cock shot its load, dribble after dribble of still very much fertile semen pulsing from her.

But something was wrong there and it was more than a dribble, more than even Greta could have said that she had produced in years, heart pounding, pushing her cock over so that the oozes poured into the medicine cups. A spurt landed on her leg, even leaving the tip of its cock in its haste to seed, and Greta rushed, open-mouthed to grab another of the little cups, spreading her load between three of them. They may not have been full but her jaw still dropped to see how much she had produced, a thin dose of seed sloshing about within, though what she produced was still somewhat viscous, to an extent, as she tried to regain control of herself.

Still, the image that had gotten her past that point of no return lingered, seeing herself in her wedding lingerie, the fine, white lingerie adorning her body as if she was a virgin all over again. Not that Greta would have wanted to be a virgin again but it was an interesting thought, something that made her wonder if it could be sweetening to be opened up to new pleasures, if she had chanced to let another man into her life. Her breasts rose and fell with sharp, short breaths but there was no time for recovery, even after all, that as her cock remained hard, wanting, desperate still as if she had not even gotten off at all.

“What..." The words were harder to get out than they should have been for Greta. “What's...going on?"

She wanted him, so very much so, even though she could not have possibly have begun to explain, even to herself, why that was true. It should not have been, not for her grandson – hell, not for any man after what had happened to her. No man would understand her, how her body worked, and she growled in the back of her throat as she leaned back in her office chair, her cock still out and hard, pushing her limits.

It was not something that she should have done but the phone was in her hand and she was dialling from her desk before she realised what her body was up to. Her mind no longer seemed in control as need dominated her, head pounding in a good way, swimming through a sea of floating lust. Even Greta's fingers tingled in the aftershock of orgasm, though that was something that came from her embodying both sexes, choosing to enjoy both, rather than something that was solely drawn from what she considered to be her “male side".

She could call it what she liked but her heart still pounded viciously as the phone rang, waiting and wondering if he would actually pick up. He was probably busy, she thought, as it kept ringing and ringing, idly toying with her cock, though she had to try, something pushing her on to wait and wait with bated breath even though her understanding of what she was doing was woefully lacking at that time.

“H-hello?"

Her brow furrowed. Why did David sound so strange?

“David? Is that you?"

“Yes... It's...ah...me."

He sounded terribly out of breath and her heart lurched with worry for him, even though there were many other things too present at that time to distract herself with. Of course, Greta's cock was namely the predominant distraction but it was hard to think about that, hard to think about anything but stroking her cock slowly, even if far less than idly, to the soft nuances of her grandson's voice.

“Are you okay?" She asked, trying to appear normal despite the very untoward thing she was doing at that moment in time. “Dear, you sound out of breath."

She could not help but be concerned for him, although she wanted to hear more of his voice, her grandson grunting as, presumably, he shifted position.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What do you want?"

Well, that was a bit abrupt for him but she brushed it off, eager to talk more, to hear more of his voice. Why hadn't she paid any attention to his voice before? She should have, if only for the fact that it was soft on her ears, lulling her gently down and down into a sweet sense of being that was not as harsh as the reality that had been hers for so long.

Oh, and that she wanted him. Greta shuddered, cock twitching, bobbing before her crotch. That too.

“I just wanted to make sure you were home safe," she said, thinking on her feet. “I see that now but they only need me on standby here, so there's time to talk if you want."

That wasn't all that much of an option when it came to her and she smiled as he groaned and moved again, the slide of something that she was sure skin on skin catching her attention. What was he doing?

“Have I caught you at a bad time?" She pressed. “Are you changing?"

Oh, that was a hot thought, Greta almost too distracted right there and then by the thought of her grandson slipping into something a little more comfortable to stop herself from moaning out loud. But she couldn't do that, had to control herself, had to hold herself back regardless of everything, catching his next words only through sheer force of will as her cock remained hard, desperately wanton.

“Sure, gran, we can talk."

He sounded clearer there as if he'd shifted the phone but also more distant at the same time.

“Am I on loudspeaker? Is Charlotte there?"

He didn't answer her and she strained to hear when it should have been quite easy to hear what was going on, her brow furrowing. What was that young man doing? Was he busy with something else and didn't want to talk to her, but too polite to say so? She wished he'd be honest with her!

“Yes..." Still, David was out of breath, the slurp of something filling the phone microphone to feed back to Greta. “I'm still here. I got back...okay..."

He didn't answer whether or not he was with his mother, though that was something that was swiftly going to be become obvious (even if incorrect) to Greta as she frowned, listening intently. She had to be quieter than ever, the slide of her hand on the thick flesh of her cock more distracting than before, the tiniest noises filtering down the phone line to her. Did David realise that there was so much background noise?

And then there came a sound through a hand, muffled but still noted in stark clarity, that could never have been confused for anything else, a moan that rose and fell with the tremble and slap of human hips on another person. Greta gasped.

Oh my god...

_ _

She swallowed hard, fingers fluttering to her lips as her eyes grew wide. He was having sex!

“David!" The pitch of her voice rose against her will, though not all that much was within her control anymore. “Who are you with?"

“I..." He seemed to fumble for words, though Greta did not know that her grandson was really smirking, enjoying her confusion and discomfort in catching him out. “She's lovely... We're not doing anything bad."

Of course, he was. Greta was not about to point that out, however, listening intently, the phone pressed so hard up to the side of her face that it left an imprint there. Her face throbbed from the pressure but it was impossible to stop herself even as his groan rang out again, her grandson insisting over and over again that what was clearly happening was not happening.

“Well, you're dating!" She cried out, her voice wobbling. “That's wonderful news! Who is she? What does she look like? You'd best be good enough for my grandson!"

She tried to be playful but, as always, her tone came out more harshly than she had intended, snappy and short. Yet she didn't want her grandson to be fucking anyone else but her, she wanted him there with her. It didn't make sense for her to want that but Greta was hardly in any position to push the thought further in the wrong direction, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth as the woman in the background moaned out her desire, however muffled it was, all over again. Could that have ever been mistaken for anything else? She'd moaned enough in her life too to recognise it!

“She's as tall as you, grandmother," he said, sounding as if he was moving away from the phone. “Long, black hair. Beautiful. Curvy. She wears clothes that make her look stunning."

Greta swallowed.

“That's lovely... I'm so happy for you. And does she treat you right?"

His reply was shorter in coming but it was her due nonetheless, hand working and pumping her cock, straining for release as she drank in his voice. How had she never noticed how wonderful his voice was before?

“I've got to go."

David, all of a sudden, was as abrupt as she was, perhaps a little of her personality in that regard being passed on to her grandson. But there was little she could do about that as the phone line rang dead, a single tone that carried through her and could not be ignored. She made a frustrated sound that had no real please in the English lexicon, an indistinguishable sort of sound, wondering if he had realised that she knew what he was doing while he had been speaking to her.

Whether he had or not was by the by though as she closed her eyes, imagining her grandson and his new girlfriend together. Long, black hair, yes... Yes, that was something that very much went in the family, suiting her image of who he should have ended up with quite nicely. Her hand worked her cock, unable to stop, a breathy moan rising from her lips even as her hips pushed up. Just what her body was doing was beyond the limits of her control right then and there but Greta was more than happy to go with it, pushing all notions that it could have at all been “wrong" from her mind.

It was okay, she thought faintly. She was there all on her own. No one was going to catch her, realising what she was doing. And, even if they did walk in on her, no one would know who was in her mind, the blocky, chunky desk securing her lower half from view. That much, at least, was something to be thankful for, the office coming with the perks of her position in such a dominant location.

“Yes... More..." She whispered, eyes half-lidded, trying to open them but not wanting to break the spell of the moment, seeing them so very clearly in her mind's eye. “Oh... Harder..."

Greta could have imagined her grandson fucking her but there was something even more exciting about imagining him covering his girlfriend with his strong body, her shoulders rounded as she hunched, striving, even then, to contain her lust. She'd rock back against him as he pounded her, maybe even wrapping his arms around her waist, though Greta imagined her to have big, swinging tits too, the sort that made a man weak at the knees.

Greta moaned. She had made many men weak at the knees, at least until they'd realised that they could never match up to what was between her legs. They were all like that, a kind of man that didn't have the balls (perhaps even literally) to give her what she needed. And just what was it that she needed? It was all for her and her pleasure, as it should have been, her hand teasing, pumping, squeezing in the very best of ways. No one knew Greta's body better than she knew her own and she caught her breath in a low, lusty pant as she groaned, head rolling back, hips shifting from one side and back to the other.

No, she was the best to please herself and that was something, indeed, that she had learned over the years, exploring her body and teasing out pleasures that she could not have known were possible for her. Such a blend of male and female coming together in her body, still identifying and presenting truly as female, brought fresh delights, a tingle of sensation flowing through her like a myriad of tiny fingers tap-dancing across her skin. They teased and they flaunted all that they could do, hand pumping and stroking, thinking all the while of her grandson with his new girlfriend, everything that they must have been getting up to at that very moment.

Greta groaned. She would hold back no more.

Her hand worked harder and faster, seeing them fucking, imagining them changing position, the black-haired woman in her mind's eye on her back with her legs flung up over her grandson's shoulders. Greta bit her lip, working her hand, losing herself to all else as even her pussy clenched down, that part of her body responding too as she dampened the chair beneath her with a steady flow of her juices.

Yet orgasm would not even be held off for a second time as she grunted out her pleasure, imagining her grandson cumming inside his girlfriend at that very moment, his seed flowing forth, filling her up. Of course, she was sure that she would have been more productive than him in her prime but that was just another nuance of the nature of her condition, her stomach churning with need to cum over and over again back then. Opening and closing her mouth soundlessly, she did all she could to silence her pleasure, although that in itself was a tall order, need rising through as she moaned breathlessly, the whisper of lust curling up from the back of her throat.

That load didn't go into the medicine cups but dribbled down her cock and splattered to the floor, thin and yet still milky, a testament to something else going on with her body that she did not yet understand. Yet the pleasure of orgasm was still there to be had as she moaned out loud, whimpering and rocking her hips, eager to spend every last drop of cum that she had left in her balls. Their sensitivity too seemed to have increased, a little heavier than before, but Greta shook her head, not sure if that was simply something that, yet again, she may well have been imagining. It wasn't worth digging into, she was sure, but it was something to note, her nuts churning, throbbing, even tingling a little, which was not something that had ever happened before to her.

Leaning back in her chair, she sighed lightly, relief washing over her at long last, although she was not to know that it was not to linger. There was work to do with her needs satisfied, though things would be more difficult than ever after what her grandson had awoken in her, the control he had her under even if she was not actively entranced by his hypnosis at that very moment. It was better, at least, and better was something to be grateful for as her cock softened slowly, need relaxing while the demands of the rest of the world pushed in insistently against her.

Little did she know that the mental image she'd just climaxed to was of her daughter and her grandson having sex.

Greta moaned, cock filling ever so slightly with blood.

Maybe just one more time?