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The Hypnosis Ring

Chapter One

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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The castle steps loomed before Steve, winding their twisty way up a tower that had not seen the passage of human footsteps in too long. A blackbird chirped angrily at the young man as he ascended the steps, ignoring the safety barrier that should have kept mere visitors to the historic site at bay from that which could be dangerous to them. Just what did that mean to him? There wasn't anything in an old castle that could really pose any danger to him as long as he was careful enough about where he was stepping, the curious voices of the others from that particular university lecture group falling away, leaving him but alone with his thoughts and the whispering of the wind.

He was not the smallest of gentlemen, it had to be said, and Steve huffed as he squeezed through a narrower gap, the worn steps not all that stable beneath his trainers. A cobweb or two was to be expected and he brushed them impatiently from his musty, blonde hair that never quite seemed to make up its mind what shade it wanted to be. His size made things a tad more difficult than they strictly had any right to be but it wasn't something that was going to overly throw him off or concern him as he worked his way through and up, stone crumbling away from the walls too as he brushed his way by impatiently.

He shouldn't have been there with the wind whistling by the ramparts, up higher and higher until he stepped into that little, round room that held so much promise. A young man like him did not know the power of the olden times, the castles and the artefacts held within that one could unleash on unsuspecting victims – or lucky ones too – at a moment's notice. The aged stones did not care nor did they judge what he was there to do or even understand that the passage of time had teased them away from the steadfastness of reality.

The ring had been intended to go downstairs to an exhibit at some point but it had never made it there, perhaps being seen as something that would not be all that interesting. There was no legend or history to it, just something that had been found when excavating and renovating the castle for the heritage site chain, and it would not have drawn many eyes. It was not even all that interesting, despite being gold, a rounded band that may have passed for a wedding band if not for its relative thickness. It was 'clunkier' than such a band and covered a chunk of his finger as he slipped it on, words appearing faintly as he rolled it around his finger, squinting to see what was there.

Outside, the wind howled but he paid it no mind.

“Control the minds of the fairer sex," he read out loud. “And…"

But the rest of the words blurred together, seemingly smudged but they didn't become any clearer, regardless of how much he rubbed with his thumb, pursing his lips in annoyance. What a silly thing indeed to find a ring and then not be able to read all of what came with it. And yet the inscription didn't seem to matter, one word standing out at him and stirring the need deep down in the recesses of his own mind. What word was that, indeed? Why, it was 'power' and the greed for said power went hand in hand just as a finger went in the ring.

Steve laughed and shook his head, glancing about briefly only out of habit as he pocketed the ring. Others would be looking for him soon and, well, there was no one there to see him take the ring. He could consider it a little memento of a dismal day out with his lecturer who hadn't even seemed all that interested in the history she was supposed to be teaching, although how that tied into the nature of his joint honours course he would never quite know. They tried to join things that didn't belong into the history of the country, preaching the importance, but there was only so much that could be done on that count when the topics did not line up just so.

Still… He would be missed and there was no harm in one little trinket. No one would miss it.

The power to control minds would have been interesting indeed but to believe it, hah – now that was a jest! Steve smiled to himself as he re-joined his group, no one actually having noticed that he'd left despite him being rather hard to miss at the best of times. As if to compensate for his size, he was quieter than most and didn't reveal all that much to either friends or acquaintances. Truly, for him, there was not all that much difference between the two of them.

“What have you got there, Steve?"

His lecturer, Mrs Beckett who went by Julie for those more comfortable on a first name basis, leaned over, although she was respectful enough to not take his hand or touch him, eyes curious. She was middle-aged and just right for being a lecturer with enough dignity to her to be respected and youthful vitality to cope with an ever-changing university and course system that had to be kept up with even as her own research continued. Smiling, she pressed her red lips together, the coat of lipstick needing to be reapplied already, black hair hanging loose around her shoulders. It was lighter at the base as if she had dyed it, although Steve was not a man that would have ever have thought to ask whether it was dyed or not, the roots showing through. Maybe that's just how it was but hair was by far the least interesting thing for him about the human body.

“Just something…I brought with me."

It was not much of a lie and she must have seen through it for those perfect lips turned down in a frown even as he stared at them, transfixed. His stomach sank and churned and Steve knew that he was in trouble but the events that then transpired seemed to flow too quickly, all out of his control even as that very control neatly placed itself in his hands, ready to be utilised to the very best of his ability.

Sucking in a breath, Steve stared wide-eyed at the ring as it glowed blue, illuminated around the edges as if by an aura of light without any true source, the halo ringing it perfectly. What was that? What was happening? The wind picked up, a gale that drew the rest of the lecture group away from them, moving deeper still into the castle, the parts that were, of course, open for visitors, leaving them alone as the ring allowed itself to be used.

Yet gaping like a goldfish wasn't going to do him either very much good or get him anywhere as his eyes snapped back up to Mrs Beckett, the woman leaning forward with her lower jaw just as slack as his, although her eyes were unfocused. Fear crossed his heart and, for a moment, he worried that she had been struck by a sudden illness that he would then have to do something about, but it was nothing of the sort. Swaying like the walking dead, her gaze landed on nothing at all, even her tongue loose and pliable between her teeth, nearly sliding out slickly over her bottom lip. Despite her position, taking her weight forward, she did not appear to be in any danger of toppling over and he approached her cautiously, heart beating in his chest as frantically as any abruptly trapped and caged bird seeking that oh so elusive freedom.

“Mrs Beckett?"

He was not one of those that preferred to use her first name, as awkward with authority and, more accurately, women as he had been in his younger days. He'd never really grown up in that regard, seeing women as something…else. No, there was no way that he could understand that even to himself but not feeling the true touch of a woman other than his mother in her so-called 'care' of him in his childhood was most likely one reason behind it. He didn't want to explore that part of his life, however, gnawing anxiously at the inside of his cheek, staring at her as the ring continued to glow, the eerie essence of it pulsating lightly as if it was controlled by an otherworldly force.

Slowly, his eyes dropped to it, the lump in his throat dissipating as if an ice cube had melted there, softening something that had been held tense and taut for so very long. What had… No. His eyes widened, comically for anyone watching and there was no one, lips clamping closed as if against the dread and fear of the unknown, which had landed itself right there in his lap as if it should have always been with him.

Could the ring really work? What had it said? Slipping it off in such a hurry that he fumbled and nearly dropped it, he hastened to read the inscription again, the words about 'power' and 'control' blurring together. If only it wasn't so worn that he could read the full inscription! But maybe it was all that he needed to know as something warmed in his chest, breathing through his mouth as the woman before him stayed perfectly still, waiting and not even watching.

As the ring said, she was under his control.

A test! He needed something to use as a test, something that he could use to tell whether or not the ring had any power or if it was him that now had that power – something, anything at all. He cast about his mind and drew a blank, shaking his head but swallowing a groan that may have alerted others to something just a little untoward going on. They were far enough away by now that words passed between him and his lecturer would not draw attention but someone would notice sooner or later that the lecturer who was meant to be guiding them on the tour of the castle was missing, even though they may also well have decided that that just mean that they had more free time for themselves. Whereas the university students were all adults, that did not meant that they did not have the capacity to, sometimes, act like cheeky children too.

“I… Uh…"

Mrs Beckett's chin lifted, lips pressed into a soft, light smile that did not seem natural on her face. Without saying anything, she merely waited, the puppet that was now her body knowing without truly knowing that something was coming, the command that her trance had called her to with the glow of the ring.

Think!

_ _

Well, if it was just a test, it didn't really matter then what he asked her to do, did it? Steve shook himself off and tried a smile himself, easing just a little of the tension held in his throat and shoulders as he relaxed his jaw. There was nothing to worry about, no shame and no awkwardness either. It wouldn't come back to haunt him – he just had to tell her to do something.

“Okay…" He readied himself, standing up tall. “Lift your arms!"

He raised his voice as if he truly was giving a command and, for the first time in his life, his tone rang through with an air of power that shocked even him. There was no dramatism to the result, of course, but it could not be denied that there was something more at play as Mrs Beckett raised her arms immediately and obediently, her expression not changing in the slightest.

Oh… Oh, now, this was very interesting. Very interesting indeed. Steve knew what he should have done, having been obedient to women in positions of authority throughout his entire life. He knew that he should have turned in the ring and told someone higher up of its powers, if only so that it no longer became his responsibility. And yet the responsibility seemed somewhat lessened when it came with such a hefty dose of power and possibility, easing the burden of carrying such a thing along with him.

Just one more test. All to be sure. That would do no harm…

All the while, Mrs Beckett's arms stayed perfectly level and horizontal with her shoulders, outstretched with her palms facing down as if she was performing some strange sort of exercise. Steve cleared his throat and pushed his shoulder blades back, drawing himself up to his full height – something that he never usually achieved – as if he had, in all actuality, grown a touch in size in the right way. Maybe he was powerful. Maybe he was capable. Maybe the ring would give all of that to him and so very much more too.

“Alright then…" Steve had always had to prepare himself, now more than ever. “Show me… Show me your tits."

It was a crude term that, somehow, still managed to be childish in how it was delivered. And yet everything moved too quickly for him to worry and languish in his word choices, Mrs Beckett wordlessly obeying as she lifted up the long sweatshirt that had sleeves down to her wrists, revealing her blue, cotton bra to him. It wasn't even anything special and a twinge of disappointment would not have at all been out of place as he leaned forward, hungrily drinking in the sight of her with his male gaze, a spot of drool at the corner of his lips.

She did not react, staring straight ahead with that beatific, serene smile on her face as if she was the most content women in the whole, wide world. Perhaps she was. There was no real way for him to know.

And yet his needed more, pushing the limits of what he'd found, the ring glowing, clasped in the palm of his hand. No, that was not right – it was on and over his finger again, the rounded band back where it belonged. And if things were all going to go along for him so exotically, Steve doubted very much that he would ever take it off ever again for fear of losing what he had so very suddenly uncovered in the strangest of places.

“Y-your…" He shouldn't have stammered, he was in control now. “Your bra too."

Maybe that was too far. Maybe it was all some great, big joke. Maybe she would scream at him. A part of Steve would not have blamed her.

The bra was unclipped and he watched as if in a dream himself, her hands flashing behind her back with neatly manicured nails to obey his will. Mrs Beckett did not know, truly, what she was doing as she undid the bra and allowed it to slide free, forced to remove the sweatshirt entirely in order to get at the straps that ran back over her shoulders. Steve had never before seen a lady in just her bra before and much less her breasts alone and nothing else but she was not to know that either, obeying him so simply that it came too easily to her, one motion softly and seamlessly following the other without a single little bit of resistance.

The sweatshirt fell to the floor and then the bra as he sweated, twisting his hands together over and over again, the ring rolling around his fingers. He'd never seen real breasts before – not in real life. He'd never even seen any accidentally at the leisure centres he'd gone to with his mother and the public swimming pools, although he hadn't been all that interested in them once his weight had gone up, hiding himself away. Digital boobs were about the most that came his way and his sexuality, well… That was a story for another time in how it still needed to develop, a lingering crush on the wrong person stunting him in ways that he was still very much ashamed of.

But Mrs Beckett was before him right there and then with her tits hanging out, pulled down under the force of gravity, letting him look as much as he liked. Her nipples perked up in the cool air, hard, little nubs that drew him in, lips wanting to close around them for a strange desire that he could not have said just where it came from. There were a few freckles on her breasts too, the imperfection perfect as it was, skin pale and creamy without the touch of sunlight in the Autumn months of the year. He imagined that she sunbathed topless in the summer. All those in sexy movies did that. He didn't like to call them by what they were.

His fingers twitched, aching for more. How far could he go?

“Julie? Julie?"

Not far enough, it seemed. Someone was calling her and Steve cursed under his breath, still chiding himself in the moment that immediately followed for boasting a word that his mother would have smacked him for daring to say. Still, she held some measure of control over him as much as he had sought to distance himself from her, worry clawing at his heart as he held one hand over the hand that bore the ring, protecting it as if it was going to be ripped from him at any time.

But they couldn't see their lecturer there with her breasts out! Hell!

“Put your clothes back on! Quickly!"

Thankfully, she did so, moving even more swiftly than she had in the first instance, not even fumbling in her rush. He would later understand that removing that part of human interference in the realm of mind control allowed such things to happen flawlessly but that was only something that, in that moment, he could marvel at, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, although the drool there had already dried.

“Good… Wow… That's good."

Something in his tone must have told her that the 'session', as it was, was over and she blinked several times as soon as her sweatshirt was back on, tugging a frayed sleeve a little further down over her wrist as if she had become uncertain at a time where that certainty could have really done her some good to have.

“Steve…" Rubbing her temples, she shook her head. “What was that? I feel quite faint…"

But he now knew what to do and stepped up to her confidently, taking her by the elbow and leading her towards where there a flurry of worried voices rose from, down a wide hallway with views looking out over the castle grounds. The wind caught at his coat but it could not chill him, not with the knowledge that he had uncovered when he had least expected it and most needed it.

“Nothing… Nothing at all. But tell me about the duke that used to live here…"

Suave. Cool. Like nothing he'd ever been before.

Steve liked the power the ring gave him. And he had every intention to use it to its full potential too.

*

'Reading Week' was a strange concept at universities and one time that most students just seemed to use as an excuse to party and laze about, not really getting all that much reading done. Steve hadn't really understood why they hadn't done away with the concept altogether during the course of passing years prior but, nevertheless, it still offered something of a break in a semester and he usually welcomed the catch-up too.

Not this time. This time, it made more sense to see just what that wonderful little ring could do, exploring its powers – the powers that now, very much, belonged to him – in a more private setting. For that case too, he could think of no better place than his home back south to explore that concept and all the possibilities there, as tentative and tenacious as that thought was in itself. And the fact that Asha was there too made things all the more stimulating, riding the train home with knots in his stomach, twisting and turning together all for the crush on his sister that, for good reason, he could not tell anyone about.

It was not his sister, however, that was his first target for she was just one who wanted to be like their mother. Rachel had always been a hard-headed career woman and pushed everyone in her family to do more, to be better, even at the expense of their own health. Steve had never lived up to her expectations, of course, and wasn't even in the ball park of what she wanted from a son, putting Asha up on a pedestal, although she was just as much in the rat race to please their mother as he was. Still, to control Asha he would have to take his mother in hand first and that came with its own set of problems.

Or maybe not too. Maybe everything was coming right at long last, the man given his dues simply for how he was treated during his childhood and, due to his mother's illicit control, into his adult years too.

He waited until the first night had passed, working on his studies in the glow of the lamp light, but his shaft was hard for something more that he would not quite yet explore, cheeks glowing with a blush that he most certainly no longer had to attest to or even acknowledge. No one would be there demanding him explain himself, what had gotten him so worked up, for there was only so much that a woman under his control could do and he knew just a little about that already.

When Asha was out, sleeping in late as she always did, he slunk downstairs, heart in his mouth even though something still pounded obnoxiously in his chest, demanding attention. No matter: he would not fail and he would not stop, no longer proving himself to be the disappointment that his not so sweet and charming mother thought he was. No one would have thought that Rachel was nice and he had taken to calling her, even in his own mind, by her first name long ago, strangely finding that more natural despite having to bow to authority and respect when verbalising her honorific. Mother. It was a shame that she'd never acted like much of one.

His mother looked a little like Mrs Beckett, in a way, but they couldn't have been more different either. Lounging on the sofa, she had her bare feet kicked up over the arm, slippers cast aside in lieu of further comforts, her black hair curly and a little frizzy in her home relaxation. Whereas she was focused on her career and the achievements of it to the exclusion of all else, that didn't mean that she got to relax completely as she held a business magazine between both hands, frowning at the text contained within as if something there had personally displeased her.

Sharp green eyes were the order of the day and he too easily recollected just how many times those eyes had locked on him, chilling him to the bone for some manner of indiscretion that wasn't really such at all. Her punishments in his childhood were not in the realm of child abuse (not at that time, at least) but still harsh and Steve took a deep breath, forcing his nerves down. He didn't have to worry that things were going to go wrong anymore. He didn't have to be scared of her. There was nothing more that that woman could do to him now that he had the ring and the ring would be the answer to every last one of his problems.

“What do you want?"

Her voice rang out as sharply as ever as if she was surprised to see him there, expression souring further, if that was even possible. It didn't hurt or, at least, not as much as it had before. He was a young man who would always seek his mother's approval but it had come high time that he learned that approval did not have to come with sour derision, sending him down into a pit and a black hole of fear time after time again. That wasn't how a mother was supposed to treat her son. And now everything was going to change.

Steve coughed lightly, clearing his throat. It was now or never.

“I wanted to show you something."

“What could you possibly show me that I would be interested in?"

Her voice rang with derision but, for once, it didn't even hurt as he smiled and stepped up, showing her his hand as if he was offering it to his mother to kiss. As she frowned and peered down at the ring, which had already begun to glow, understanding its job, Rachel could not have foreseen that she would, very shortly, be kissing something else of her son's.

Everything that made Rachel who she was fell away, drawing back from her eyes as if her personality had been overcast with a dark shroud, an object now to be used and manipulated as he willed. The ring glowed and pulsed, a throbbing drive, and he gasped lightly, hardly able to believe, even then, that it had worked. Despite everything, a part of him had imagined that he had concocted the whole scene up in the castle, which would not have been too farfetched a proposition for a mind that was somewhat broken and unsure of just where and what it was supposed to be looking for in life.

But, no… It was clear and it was simple. His mother was under his control, the magazine slipping from her hands in a rustle of glossy pages that probably weren't worth the ink that they were printed with. And yet she probably thought that still held more value than her own son ever could to her. That was just why he needed to have her under control, the revenge and payback for the years of hurt and harm and abject, raw humiliation that she had put him through coming to a roaring head all at once.

He licked his lips, although it was no longer from nerves. He would show her. He really would show her.

“Strip."

No eloquent commands were needed and, just in case, he had decided in his preparation to keep everything simple, his hardness stirring in his underwear, still restrained by the comfortingly snug clasp of it. Soon, he promised himself, eyes fixed on his mother as she swayed and rose to obey, light on her feet and moving as if in a dream, lighter than air itself. He would have everything that he had ever wanted to know, al that she had denied him in his home education…all very soon…

And yet a virgin male such as himself could not possibly be faulted for the problem that it was more than a little difficult to concentrate as she disrobed swiftly, removing her T-shirt and then her yoga pants, although he was quite sure that she would not have been seen dead outside the house without either of those. Whereas they were high-quality brands, they were not suitable for a prim and proper woman who always needed to be seen as an equal to any man and she looked better without them, her bra and panties lightly laced at the edges as if she wanted something to wear that was slightly fancy but not too fancy for being at home.

Steve groaned in the back of his throat, eyes fixed on the black cotton trimmed with pink lace, ravenously taking her in. Her tits were much bigger than Mrs Beckett's too, double-D cups at the very least, and he ached to have them in his hands, groping and massaging them like he had seen in the clips online, the videos where men didn't have to treat any women with respect and authority. In all honesty, the women concerned didn't seem to treat them very well either but that was by the by as everyone got what they needed and the ring would allow him the pleasure and the luxury that had been so very terribly and drastically denied from his development so far in life.

“And those." He shook his head as she paused there, in just her underwear. “Strip everything off."

Evidently, he had to be clearer with his instructions. Rachel did not nod her acknowledgement of his order but unclasped her bra, slipping the straps efficiently over her shoulders and down her arms, intent only on doing as he willed. Her breasts hung down further too than Mrs Beckett's with their size and he started to realise that, knowing with a twinge of guilt that, if she had not been a woman in a trance before him, his inexperience would have shown through. Well, that experience was going to come whether his mother liked it or not and all would be for the better for what he took from all at the end of it. He didn't need to think of them, only the soft gleam of his mother's breasts reflecting the sunshine that streamed in through the window, the warmth of the room keeping her nipples from perking up for the moment. He would soon fix that, however, and he was sure that there were some things that he could utilise to see the true depths of her womanly needs.

She was not shaven, which surprised him a little bit. All the women in the movies he'd seen had been bare between her legs but maybe she'd still wanted to look completely like an older, wiser woman down there, mature and strong like those she went up against in the law firm each and every day. Maybe she just didn't have time for that kind of maintenance but it was by the by as the dark hairs there were trimmed neatly, a sharp 'V' rising up from her folds as if it was intent on directing one's attention down and lower to the main event. Yet he could not see…

“Spread your legs."

It was not a command that he could have ever before imagined saying to his mother but it was just what was needed as she did as he bid, bracing herself and shifting her heels apart even as she rocked back on them. Maybe the power of the ring was more potent still than Steve could have imagined for she put herself on lewd display for him too, thrusting her hips out and towards him even as she leaned back, putting an arch in her spine that left her tits on display, hands clasped behind her back.

It was easy, too easy… But Steve could not think to complain as his mother obeyed his every whim and even commands that he had not yet put into words, her lips parting in a lusty moan as if she could not resist him, ravishingly fixed on him, a gleam of drool just about visible at the corner of her lips. It was not like her, not like the business woman Rachel that he knew, but it was how he was going to see her going forward, taking everything he needed from her in order to see his needs fulfilled and more than that again still.

“Oh… Nice…"

His inexperience showed and he nervously walked around her, admiring her from all angles even as he glanced at the door. There was no one else in the house, of course, but that didn't stop him from checking just to be sure that they weren't about to be interrupted. He was sure he could fumble and play it off as something else entirely if it came to it, leaving his mother in a position of vulnerability while he made good his escape. After everything that she'd done to him, he could not have honestly have said that she did not deserve it and it was with that thought in mind that he hardened his heart to her, drawing himself up tall and proud, the man that he'd always wanted to be.

He'd make her turn him into a man. Whatever that took.

“Play with your tits," he said, his voice stronger and more confident than before. “I want to see them. Make it lewd."

And, oh, how Rachel did! As if she was putting on a private show for a man that she truly was infatuated with, she groaned deep in the back of her throat as well as any whore on display, keeping her legs lustfully spread and groping a breast in each hand. Of course, there was far too much hefty, delicious flesh there for her neat and feminine hands with the manicured nails to deal with, spilling from between her fingers, but she did her best for him, her mind controlled state of mind not knowing just how far into the world that he'd created for her she had slipped. No, all she knew was that she had to massage and squeeze her tits, act like a porn star, all for his pleasure. Nothing else but her son's pleasure mattered to Rachel, nothing else anymore.

Yet he was not to know that as he drank in the sight of her, moaning as his hardness rose to attention. How could it not? She had a fine body, even for being middle-aged, and everything remained tight and perky in all the right places, her nipples seeming to throb for attention, although that could have merely been his horny, lust-stricken mind at work, attributing motion to what could not move in that manner. But it was a hot thought to think that they were indeed pulsing with desire and he grinned widely as his mother pushed her tits together, stretching her tongue down towards them as if she was going to be able to swipe what had always been used to give him a verbal lashing across them in a true act of depravity.

She was that flexible, however, under the influence of the ring, its blue glow intensifying as she heaved for breath, struggling to breathe with her neck at such an angle, windpipe compressed. But she managed it all the same, shoving her huge boobs up to her mouth as she groaned and suckled on her own flesh, drawing a nipple into her mouth briefly and gasping as it popped free in a gleam of saliva. Steve could only imagine just how her flesh tingled, her body a mere subject upon which he could now influence his whim, fingers twitching and itching to squeeze them himself but not quite yet possessing the confidence to do so.

But that was quite alright: his mother wasn't going to run off tattling to anyone that he didn't have the balls to kiss a girl, like she had done not too many years ago, and watching her massage her breasts for him was erotic play too. Like having his own private show, she made him the star as she waggled her tongue out towards her tits, all of a sudden pretending that she could not quite reach, although it was all just for the kinky show of it, her broken mind finding just what he needed and putting it on lusty display for him right then and there.

“More…"

What could a controlled woman like her do but obey? Rachel moaned loudly and openly, throwing her head back as she posed for him, tilting forward at the same time to let her boobs hang. The heavy rounds of flesh pulled down lightly into points directed by her large nipples and she allowed him to see just how big and full they truly were, only kept somewhat under wraps on a daily basis by the use of a rather good bra. That wasn't for Steve to know, of course, but Rachel still hissed through her teeth at the weight of them working on wearing down her back, his head spinning as his cock throbbed and pulsed.

To him, there was nothing more in front of him beside her tits, zeroing in on them to the exclusion of all else. Oh, how perfect they were, just the sort of breasts that he'd imagined, one day, having in his hands himself, all for his pleasure. He didn't consider the pleasure of the woman that they belonged to but she had never considered anything much in the case of him either, although that had, of course, not been anything of a sexual nature. Steve could only be thankful that her discarding of him in his childhood, the rampant mockery, had not progressed further but it could be said to be at least one reason why he was dead set on taking his revenge, experiencing all that he blamed her from removing from his sights and grasp to begin with.

There was so much more that he could do, however, and Steve was only just getting started as he lusted after her, lips curving up into a smile. It was only early days yet and he would find his feet but, until then, his mother debased into nothing, groping and squeezing her own tits all for his pleasure, nails lightly digging into them, indenting the flesh, would be plenty to get going with.

“And more…"

She really pushed herself that time, arching up and pushing onto the tips of her toes, tits wobbling as she teetered there. Maybe she would have swayed and fallen if she had not been so far under the influence of his control, overpowering and demanding, but she was held there as if by an otherworldly power, gasping as her chest rolled and heaved, breasts bouncing for him. Going to town on them as her feet landed flat once more would have been an understatement as she put on an act for him worthy of the hottest, kinkiest porn star, massaging them in such a way that he could not help but see just how her nipples poked wantonly up against her fingers, needing more. And, similarly, he could not ignore just how red her skin was becoming from the constant, heaving manipulation, flushing with erotic heat as she moaned and cried out, arousal rising despite the control of everything else.

He could bear it no longer, taking a deep breath that didn't ease the tautness, burning there, in his lungs at all, striding straight past her to the sofa. Someone who had been in control of their mind and their senses may have wondered just what he was doing but she merely stood there, not even turning to follow his direction, her constant groping and moaning combining softly and lustfully with the roll of her buttocks. Licking his lips, Steve exhaled hotly, warm breath rushing over his lips, as he fixed his horny gaze on her backside, the flesh soft in all the right places, although she was not a woman that sought to particularly shape or lift. Maybe at one point in her life she had had cosmetic surgery on that part of her body too but there was only so much that Rachel could, in fact, do within the bounds of the law firm without losing her standing with other lawyers. Therein lay her weakness yet it was the body that resulted from it, never quite up to her own standards as she took out all else on him, that he would reap the spoils from.

“Come here."

That did the trick. He had to keep his commands simple for her, he thought, for his mother was as dumb as a bag of bricks otherwise. A lover would have understood that he wanted them to come keep him company but she was just a toy and a puppet to follow and take direction. She would be his willing sex slave in the end of it, formed and controlled so that she appeared to be doing everything willingly even though, of course, the very essence of free will was stripped by that ring. She came to his side with a simpering, sweetening smile and he patted the sofa beside him, heart pounding. Was he really going to do it?

Well, of course, he was: there never should have been any question about that. But a virgin was want to wonder and he did not quite know how to act. That was the beauty of acting it all out with someone who would never be able to mock him or pass on the story to anyone else for it was a secret he could and would hold close to his heart forevermore. His cock twitched, another bubble of pre-cum oozing at the tip, soaking into his underwear, although it would not even matter either that he had not worn 'suitable' underwear for the occasion. He could be entirely comfortable and it didn't matter at all as the sofa bowed lightly under her weight beside him.

“Give me a hand job," he said, his voice low and thick with desire. “Make it good."

Oh, not even a man such as Steve could have helped how his voice rasped on that last word, need curling up in him. It would be nothing like just doing it to himself – he already knew that – but he could not have possibly have prepared himself either for just how his heart leapt, the twinge and pull in his gut as her hand pulled at his belt, deftly and swiftly undoing it to unbutton his jeans too. Too quick! So quickly, in fact, that he didn't have a moment in which to come to terms with what was actually happening to him, if it was all actually real, as her hand teased into his underwear and smartly pulled out his achingly hard and throbbing cock, already slick in a mess of his own pre-cum.

And it was better than anything that he could have ever have imagined. The lust and slide of his own hand could have been considered wooden and lethargic in comparison to her angelic grip, teasing up and down the length of his cock. She covered the same ground as him but it was different, so very much so, as Steve's eyes couldn't decide where to land, vision turning glassy and dazed, caught up in a realm that no longer seemed very much like any reality that he was used to.

“Oh, yes… Fuck, yes…"

She would never have allowed him to swear either, further sealing in true the difference between them, how the tables had turned and almost too that their personalities had shifted. It was time for Steve to come into himself and there was really no better way to do that than thrusting and grinding up into his mother's hand as she squeezed his cock so perfectly, the skin moving lightly with each and every delicious stroke.

“Just like that… Keep going…"

The encouragement too served as a command as she pumped his cock luxuriously, giving him every last bit of her attention with her eyes rapt and lips parted. Of course, Rachel did not possess the capacity of speech then to ask him if he liked it, if there was more that she could do for him, but the ring helped her broken mind adjust the pressure of her fingers just so as they wrapped around his hot length, further serving to increase his pleasure. That was, after all, all that she was there for now, his slave and something that could be tossed aside as and when he pleased. In a way, it was a true becoming of power.

But Steve's breath already grew laboured, the need to orgasm rising more and more with every second that dared to race by, and he lurched forward, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, to take her nipple into his mouth, desperately striving to find anything to distract him. If it was intended to be a distraction that made him feel less like he was about to cum on the spot, however, it probably wasn't the most sensible of ones as the nub of her nipple pressed into his tongue, her moan sending him spiralling on to further delights of erotic highs and pleasures.

Who could have known that sex could be so good? It was just the beginning and already he wanted to ejaculate, head spinning on a wave of delirium that no human could have ever have wanted to resurface from. If he was gone, he would be happy to be gone, lost on a sea of lust from which there was no return to be had. Her nipples slickened with his saliva and Steve groaned as he swapped to her other breast, treating both equally as he finally found the nerve and boldness in his heart to squeeze and massage her breasts, mimicking how she had played with them herself earlier for his own pleasure.

And that was all that mattered…right?

He sucked on her tit hard, too hard, in fact. He could not have known that he could leave marks on human flesh with just his mouth – assuming that teeth, of course, were not used but that was just another kinky nuance to fun that was only just being introduced to him. Rachel didn't mind and arched her back, pushing her chest eagerly into his touch as she groped him, sliding her hand all the way down to the rigid base of his cock with each stroke, seemingly as intent on coaxing his cum from him as he was on providing it to her.

Too much… So much… Oh, but it was all worth it as he slurped on her breast and lewdly made all the noises that he could have imagined making, experimenting and testing, even grazing his teeth around her nipple. That had her throwing her head back and her hips rocking towards him as if she needed something more but this first session was solely going to be about taking from her and nothing that would sate whatever needs she had going on in her mind and body. No… No, Steve had plans for her and he was going to be damned if he didn't see them through, nipping and swirling his tongue around her other nipple as he tried not to cum too soon.

A break. He pushed her hand away and gasped, chest heaving, although he saw himself them as a god of lust, his powerful mother reduced to nothing before him, a simpering slut-slave to do his bidding. It was just where she belonged in life.

“Suck me off," he growled, hardly able to get the words out as need coursed through him, a pulsing wave of desire. “Hard."

For there was no sense in going soft and slow when he could do so much more with her and his mother's mouth parted around the very tip of his twitching shaft a moment later. The skin pulled back lightly around the head and he tensed up the moment before she took him in deep, his moan cutting through all else as he dug his fingers into her breasts, clinging onto her with the desperate need of a man who wanted his pleasure to go on just a little longer.

It was more than a virgin male should have been able to take, everything that he'd ever wanted coming together in one day in such a way that he could hardly believe his luck. He grinned as if he'd won the lottery and, indeed, for Steve, that could well have been true, the ring on his finger flashing blue as if it too agreed with him.

But that was not the matter at hand as Steve was treated to his very first blowjob, his mother's lips sliding down and down the length of his cock, taking him all the way up into the back of her mouth. She didn't react at all if he did indeed hit her gag reflex but swallowed him up in all the way like a pro. Maybe she had been known as a good cock-sucker in her younger days, a term that made him flush with heat in his cheeks that didn't seem to quite have a place there, so crude it was. And yet she was a cock-sucker to him now, a sleeve for his shaft to keep it warm and satisfy him, her cheeks hollowing lightly as she bobbed her head on him, mimicking the thrusts that he would later give to her sopping wet and tight cunt.

But that would come another time and he could not deny his passion or her in the here and now. Of course, that was more accurately depicted as his inexperienced need to spill his load as quickly as possible. He could last quite a while, by his standards, with his own hand but things were different, very different, with his mother giving him the very first blowjob of his life, her eyes closed as if she needed to do so in order to focus better.

But it was all too much for him as his hand found the arm of the sofa, digging in even as his other wound into her hair, yanking and pulling at her head roughly, even though she could only moan her 'appreciation' of such treatment. A controlled slave did not know what 'too much' or 'too hard' was and Rachel slurped and suckled on his rampant cock as if it was the finest, thickest treat she could have ever dreamed up all for herself, taking him in deep and hard with each and every bob of his head. And his hand on the back of her head forced her down deeper too, if that was even possible, his breath coming more and more quickly, juddering gasps, on the tightening peak before climax.

He couldn't help himself: he spent himself in a needy throb and spurt of come, drooling his essence into his mouth. He was not a stud in any sense of the term but she moaned around his shaft as if he was one, running her tongue around the head to scoop up every last drop of his cum and pressing her tongue sweetly up to the underside even as he huffed and ground and thrust to every last little touch of pleasure he could glean from her hot, wet mouth, mind dry of ways in which he could possibly describe his pleasure, drafted entirely into the moment itself. Not that that, of course, was a bad place to be as she finally eased her lips from his cock even with a smile behind them, parting them to show the pool of cum on her tongue.

Steve groaned, his mouth open to drag in every last bit of breath he could, despite not doing much good with his head spinning and pounding. Seeing her like that, well… It made him well enough want to cum right then and there, seeing just what more he could do with his kinky, lustful slave mother. It was the best place for her and he could only ever be thankful, so very thankful, that he had come across the ring at just the time he had. It was as if it had been fate to find it, truly.

_ _

“Don't swallow yet," he managed to force out, slumping against the back of the sofa. “Fuck… Fucking hell… Wow…"

It could have been a very pleasant afterglow indeed. It could have been many things if not for the door slamming, bouncing off the frame with a harsh bang that could only herald the presence of one person.

“I'm hooome!"

As if she was the most important person in the world, Asha barrelled into the house like a freight training, the bang of her bag hitting the wall denoting her procession down the hallway. She'd probably expect him to pick that bag up again later, acting like her personal maid to follow along obediently at her heels.

But he had far more important things to concern himself with as he lurched from the sofa, ripping his cock from Rachel who, at least, was enough under his control to let go at the right time too. She blinked up at him with a smile, Steve's heart racing, looking about wildly as if an escape route would somehow, miraculously, leap forth and present itself.

“Hide! Take your clothes!"

In his panic, he didn't look to see where she went, lost in the moment as he dragged up his underwear and jeans over his flaccid cock, though it was not the most pleasant of sensations to stuff his spent shaft back into his clothes. No matter, he'd have it out and doing what it was meant to do soon enough but he barely got himself situated on the sofa again, a sweaty, sticky mess of a man, with a glance to see that Rachel was nowhere in sight, before his sister stomped into the room, making a colossal noise in her chunky, fashionable heels.

Fixing her jealous, green eyes on him that still made his heart turn over, she cocked out a hip with her hand on it, sassy to the last even though the smirk on her lips should still not have made him tip in towards her, Asha's 'pull' irreplaceable by anyone that could have stolen his heart away at university.

“Aw, little bro, are you being all lonely all by yourself on the sofa again?" She cooed to him, clapping her hands together, eyes narrowed even as they darkened with an evil kind of intent. “You don't have any friends… No one to talk to?"

She didn't have to talk to him like he was five years old and yet she did it anyway, all to demean him. The words washed over him and he flinched away, turning his mind to more sordid, enticing matters, although he could only go so far with those thoughts too before his cock twitched, threatening to harden once more and bulge through his clothing. Not too much of that then, clearly.

“Welcome home, sis," he said quietly but did not listen to her reply. “It's nice to see you again, Asha."

She was already gone, off to her bedroom, by the time he had finished saying her name but there was little more he could do with Asha for the moment. Yet her time would come as he searched the room, seeking out his mother and her hiding place. It didn't occur to him until he'd actually found her in the cupboard under the stairs, the closet that they used for winter coats and gear, that he could have just used his control over her to call her to him. That was something to remember, of course, for another time.

He shuddered. She hadn't even swallowed his cum yet, holding it in her mouth like the obedient slut she was. Perfect.

Smiling, he settled back into his new role, the one that made him even more powerful than his controlling mother, groping and fondling her breasts as she parted her lips in a silent moan of devotion.

Whore… My slave whore.

“Wake me in the morning with a coffee," he said, laying down the test for her in plain language. “A latte."

It was specific just to see what she would do, the extent of the ring's power when he was not around her, for it seemed that he should dig deeper into what it could give him, all that lay within his grasp at long last. There would be more of her beautiful tits to come and so many more marks on her breasts, his lust getting the better of him. Rachel left to re-dress herself, although he allowed her the risk of the humiliation if she was caught on the stairs or the upstairs landing by her own daughter. There was no sense, after all, in taking every last little risk from her. Let her do the dirty work too, just like she'd always made him do.

_ _

With his mother safely taken care of, he went upstairs to the bedroom door that, not so many years ago, had struck such worry and need into his heart, a cocktail of emotions that didn't really go together. It was a mixer that had no mix and yet he yearned for his sister, that hidden craving guiltily rising to the surface once more. She was only mean to him because that's how their mother treated him, nothing more or less than that. Asha didn't know any different and that was not her fault but he could show her that they were meant to be soul mates with the power of the ring.

Her control would not be forced but come slowly, naturally, yes… Yes, he was sure of it. It would all be just as it should always have been, the sister that he'd always wanted and needed coming into his arms at long last. She was beautiful, he could not deny it and would not deny it, the fall of her long brown hair gleaned from their father's side of the family. And he would have her, running his fingers through it over and over again even as he explored far finer aspects of her body still, all kept well under his care and command.

There was a responsibility with his power, of course, and he was willing to take that price any day at all if it meant that Asha would be his, his lover.

Opening the door, he smiled at her but she didn't even have a chance to respond, leaping up from the bed with a book in her hand. With her lips parted as if to hurl something in his direction – no, no, she didn't mean that, not still, not anymore – she slumped forward, arms dangling limply with shoulders that no longer had the small muscle control and strength to support them. Swaying forwards and backwards like a tree bound and tilted by a breeze that no one else could feel or even feel the touch of, she kept her lips close together yet ever so slightly parted, eyes half-lidded. She was still wearing a light coat of mascara, her features beautifully accentuated and stunningly defined even with that minimalistic make-up.

And she would wait for him, Steve taking his time now that she was in his trance, under his control, hand outstretched and fingers splayed as if to take something of her or hers into his hold. But he already had what he wanted, if he so chose to reach out to claim it entirely for his own, even if he wanted something slower and sweeter from the sister that had brought such turmoil, however twisted it was, to his life during their time together.

“In the night, you will come to me," he said, taking care to speak his words very slowly and clearly so that there could be no miscommunication at all. “You will come to my room and cuddle with me, dressing only in a T-shirt and panties. Make them nice panties, nice underwear. You will have this burning desire to come to me before you do, eating you up inside. You won't be able to resist it and you will wonder where it's come from. You will know that you wanted this all along, to come to me."

He left it there; there was no need to delve into more. He had time now, with the power on his finger, and did not have to rush what could be softly and sweetly gleaned, bit by bit. Leaving Asha blinking and shaking, coming out of her trance, he closed the door firmly on his heels, not even bothering to try to be quiet and unobtrusive as he had always behaved with them. What were they going to say now if he did not close a door so quietly that it would not have shaken a mouse? There was no longer anything at all that they could do to him and certainly nothing that they could say either to turn his mind to sorrier means, those dark times behind him as Steve stepped boldly forward out into the light that had awaited him for so very long.

His mother and his sister were under his control. And now all he had to do was use them and take all the power they had stolen from him back for his own.

There were interesting times ahead.