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Teasing Out Hypnosis

Chapter Two

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Part Two

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

Eating breakfast with his grandmother was always an interesting affair, though, this time, he had dressed her in normal clothes. Of course, she would never have worn a tank top and running shorts of her own accord, particularly without underwear, but that was all that she wanted to explore, the passion of her tenor rising through. She squirmed in place, her pussy wet, though she couldn't cling to that thought for very long at all as Steve toyed with her mind, twisting it and letting her 'see' just a little bit more of the world that he had, rather unduly, thrust her into.

He cut up his croissant while watching her out of the corner of his eye, a glint in it, knowing just what she would find when she read the paper. Of course, it was annoying that someone had seen it, seen them, but that wasn't something that was really going to worry him all that much as he would be able to take care of the problem. But his grandmother slow and methodical perusal of the paper was something that he was very much interested in, wanting to see her reaction, the beauty of it thrumming up.

She was full of his cum too, which was just another added nuance that made everything all the more delightful for him, playing the part of the voyeur.

“Wait..."

Ah, this is it.

_ _

Agatha's eyes widened, one finger jabbing sharply at the paper as if she was trying to stab a hole through it.

“Have you seen this?" She gasped, her free hand flying to her lips as if that was going to make anything any more bearable than it was. “Someone has been riding a motorcycle around town... Naked! Can you believe that?"

Steve stifled his chuckle, glancing up from his breakfast as if the story was only mildly interesting to him. But she was still reading the story, working out what had happened in her mind, though it was not quite enough for her, not even in that moment.

“Oh, that can't be right..."

He released his control on her, playing with drawing back, letting her be herself, a scowl painting itself across her lips in a twisted swathe of emotion. Agatha's lips opened and closed as if she was trying to find the words to encapsulate her horror, all that rose up through her body, legs twitching and toes tapping as if something more simply could not be contained. She had to let it loose but her mind wasn't working right, moving through sludge as she tried to return to something at least akin to a normal sense of being.

“I can't believe it!"

Steve smiled and glanced up, affecting as much a look of dissociation and half-interest as possible. In all truth, even though it was not about them, he knew exactly what she was reading.

“These! Have you..." She leaned in closer to the paper, screwing up her face as she squinted fiercely. “Have you seen these before? Don't they... No, no, they cannot look familiar, I am imagining things: most certainly, I am."

“Who is it?"

“No!"

She snatched the paper away from him as if it was not for his eyes, too much for his eyes, and even then he had to stifle a grin, twisting away as he tried his very best not to laugh out loud. Oh, but Agatha made it so very difficult for him as she hunkered down, hunching over the paper, her mouth opening and closing as she half-read the words aloud.

“This is sick and stupid!" She proclaimed, at last, thrusting the paper away from her, although she still did not allow Steve to see just who was on the page, though he had an inkling from what had filtered down to him. “Who would do something like that? They could have been severely injured! Do you know what injuries I've seen in my day?"

Steve shook his head, eyes wide and innocent.

“No... Are they that dangerous?"

“Of course they are!"

She shoved her chair back from the table, standing and ranting, throwing her arms about.

“To put something like that out in public, the road rash, the falls they could have... And what for? All a perverted pleasure! There's no sense in it, no sense in any of it at all! All these perverts out looking to satisfy their sick little whim, they don't know what's coming to them in the end of it all, you mark my words!"

Steve tilted his head, watching her chest rise and fall, though he was, for once, more interested in what she was saying than what her body was doing in that particular moment. Strange to hear her so vocal there... Didn't she even remember that they had a motorbike too? Didn't she remember what they'd done when he slipped back his control on her?

How strange...

_ _

“What would your reaction be if someone else, other than us, did what we'd done then?"

He left his question deliberately vague, seeing if she would work it out, the actual question in there. It was loose enough that he needed to consider it himself too. What would he think if a friend had told him about fucking his grandmother? What would he think about a friend fucking his grandmother on a motorcycle? Did it even matter that they were related – adults, of course – or did that make it all the better? He was not sure but, truly, it was something, still, that he could take his time in working out for himself, although it was most likely going to be something that only drove him on to seedier, more ardent heights of pleasure still.

His grandmother, however, needed a moment longer in which to consider the question, lips working, licking those lips. Even the swipe of her tongue sweeping over the lower one made him want to take her right then, to grab her and kiss her, to satisfy his pleasure and passions over all else. Steve knew then that there was nothing he would have said no to, as long as it involved his grandmother in all her glorious curves, bulging out against her clothes as if her chubby self was about to pop out of her fitness attire that, truly, had never before been used for any element of fitness.

“I..." She worked the words over in her mouth, tongue swirling around them. “No... No, Steve, I'll pretend I did not hear that question!"

Oh, how interesting. Did she think she could escape his question and didn't have to answer it? There was a shade in there of the grandmother that he remembered but not one that he felt, in the moment, that he had to pay any particular attention to, pressing his lips together, eyebrows raised. He could easily force an answer that pleased him from her lips but, well, that would not answer his question and wouldn't let things come out into the light. He wanted to know just how much of her was still in there, whether it was the whole woman that he saw flashes of or if she had really grown, if she was really different. On so many counts there, the jury was well and truly out, no one answer offering a solution that he could hold to account and to heart.

“It's just a question, gran," he said, soothing her with the use of familiarity – at least in effect. “Don't worry about it. Things will be okay, they won't get caught."

She gaped at him, cheeks reddening instantly. Talk about stirring the pot!

“What do you mean they won't get caught? Boy!"

But he slipped back out of reach, holding her there, imagining that there were a separate pair of hands holding his grandmother back, freezing her with his will. Oh, she was there, the hard-minded woman that had done so much to him in his younger days, her sharpness and demand still there, lurking under the surface. The problem in that regard was, however, that her face was definitely less beautiful when painted with a scowl, despite the fact that her attire had his eyes dropping again and again to her bobbing, swaying tits, the sports top doing nothing at all to keep them restrained, which was exactly the way he wanted it to be.

He liked the woman he was making her into far better and, truth be told, she was better at peace with society than raging against it.

“So, the things we do, Agatha," he said, taking her name instead that time, chin tipped up with the edge of old defiance. “The sex, the motorbikes... What do you think of that? What do you think of those things, of everything? Tell me."

She could not refuse such a command, fists balled-up as she tipped forward, straining against his control, although it was nothing more than a flies wing-beats fluttering against the obtrusiveness of a window to him. He could feel her then, the semblance of her body pushing and pushing against him, wanting to be free – and yet that was something that he simply could not allow, not anymore. That was not a woman that he needed to set free, not when he could simply touch her mind and tease her softly back into contentment, also while getting everything he'd ever wanted from her and so very much more too.

She took a deep breath but all the deep breaths (and lifting of her tits) in the world was not going to stop her from the truth, her feelings spilling out even though she was rooted in place. An obstinate strand of damp hair clung to her lips that she could not even brush away, heart hammering desperately, though it was as caged as her mind had become under Steve's will.

“Everyone who does that is a gigantic pervert!"

That was not her wording and he knew it too, letting his influence mark her even as he drew back. She meant it but the words came from him, the woman he'd introduced her to the notion of being. She'd never have said that before. Where was the real fight? Where was the rebellion? She didn't push the matter but her words showed her true feelings even if there was nothing she could do about it, slumping, breasts heaving with breath, nipples protruding through the thin fabric covering them. Their hefty sag was a treat for the eyes and he took a moment to admire her curves, the tease of fat shaping her clothing, lending her a different sort of silhouette than the one that he had become used to.

His lips curved into a smile. Well, maybe his dear old grandmother would then finally realise that there was no sense in pushing back against him and spoiling his fun, when her needs had changed. She muttered to herself and adjusted his tank top, once again letting him get a glimpse of how her nipples pushed out through the front of the fabric, such a teasingly tantalising view that it was all he could do not to fuck her and bend her over the kitchen table right then and there. She was hot and she should have known that too, but maybe that was just one more little thing that he could impart to her during the sweet course of their time together. And who knew how long that could last?

There was no sense in pursuing that particular matter any further as he took the newspaper away so that it would not continue to be a source of friction between them – not at that time, at least. He'd have to possibly have a word with Mai Ling and Cheet about riding their bikes further afield but, really, there were no repercussions that would affect them, at least ones that could not be reversed. He didn't control the law but he did control what people saw and, while he had no ill-intentions in that regard, he did make the officers that he brushed with his mind look the other way. Otherwise, every lead came to a dead-end, trailing off faintly into the ether whenever someone just maybe thought that something was up. They just would not be able to pursue the thought for any length of time and that was just the way he wanted it to be, his influence doing its work for him in the background if it all, letting him get on with the very important business of enjoying his life.

His grandmother finished her breakfast slowly, working her way through it, the fruit lingering on the plate as she popped a grape into her mouth. Steve shivered, imagining just what her tongue was doing to that grape. Rolling it around, getting it all slick and shiny with saliva, smooth and teasing over her tongue, before popping in a burst of juice, so sweet that it was no wonder at all that humanity had ended up with such an addiction to sugar. If he had a sweet tooth though, it was for the sweetness of what a woman's body could do for him.

Steve licked his lips but the rumble of motorcycles revving up outside could not be denied and he grinned as he went to meet them at the door. Of course, they still had autonomy over themselves and all that they did, their lives continuing on much as they had before, just in a kinkier fashion. Mai Ling and Cheet were at the head of the group, Cheet smirking as he sat there with his cock crammed up into his grandmother's pussy, Mai Ling practically squirming in his lap as she struggled to maintain a grip on the handlebars. Balance was surely not her strong point but Steve's heart ached for the tease of a hot cunt on his cock again, not yet having had his first fuck of the day. And to have that too with cool air licking his skin, why, he couldn't have possibly have thought up any more perfect way to spend his day!

“Hang here," he said with a grin that seemed to have permanently affixed itself to his face. “I'll sort Agatha out."

It was harsher language than what he may have otherwise used in times gone by but, well, he didn't have to worry about his language anymore, not even about speaking properly. Anything that rebelled in Agatha, he learned to push back, to shove down, to make his own in another away entirely that only served to strengthen his control. It was all the way it was supposed to be and he was learning, if on the fly, to take what was there and use every little last bit of it to his teasing, sordid advantage.

After all, just what else would any man who found himself in Steve's situation do?

That question was not one that he had to answer as he let them wait, though they were all well entertained in fucking on top of the bikes, one of them even disembarking so that he could bend his grandmother over the bike and really give it to her in long, driving strokes of his cock. It was all Steve could do to pull back and walk away, directing Agatha to go upstairs, wanting to keep his eyes on the show. There was an outfit on the bed for her, he said, and he told her to hurry up too. His words tumbled over one another in such a hasty fashion that he could well have been considered rude but, well, any sense of rudeness that may or may not have lingered would be swept away as life moved on. They all had their own needs to take care of and he lazily leaned back against the frame of the front door to watch the humping, grinding, gyrating show.

To him, there was nothing better than the lust between grandson and grandmother played out before his eyes, except maybe getting to engage in that himself, working out his kinkiest fantasies that he didn't even know that he had. He had to push the limits, go further, harder, faster, all to explore new highs and explosions of lust.

Mark growled in the back of his throat as Yennifer bent over the bike for him, her buttocks raised, her attire smoothly blended against her dark skin. She had leathers now but they were cut out over her arse and her crotch, her tits hanging out too so that nothing at all was off-limits to her grandson. The outfit, however, did have the effect of highlighting her curves, her body not as thick as that of his very own grandmother but still alluring in its own way. She cried out for him, his huge dick slamming into her, begging for more, a grey curl of hair splayed out across her forehead as if it had been tastefully teased there for the purposes of a fashion shoot or the like.

Mai Ling and Cheet stayed on the bike, her grandson hefting her up a little so that he could more easily slam and grind into her needy pussy – such a hungry pussy that just wanted to swallow up and greedily gulp down his cock day after day, over and over again. She was so cock-hungry that she'd even get on her knees for him, sucking his dick into the back of her mouth, tickling her throat, before he could get dressed in the morning, something that Steve had found incredibly arousing on Cheet's boastful re-telling on the course of another day. He needed to play the voyeur but it was more erotic still to be the one in charge and control, teasing out his own fantasies and merely adding what others did to his own list of inspirations and influences.

Trevor and Sarah, however, were the most interesting of the three as the kickstand was used to stop the bike from falling over, Sarah facing him as she rode him lustfully, the ploughing spear of his cock repeatedly disappearing into her sodden cunt. With each thrust, rocking the bike, he slopped his cock messily into her pussy, splattering her arousal, though there was already a good deal of his semen in there already. Were any of the grandmothers ever without a pussy full of cum anymore? Steve doubted that very much but Trevor grunted and squeezed his grandmother's tits as she rode him, letting her do most of the work while he stretched her out, forcing her hot passage to clench and take every last inch of his rampant rod.

“Now... I am ready!"

Agatha presented herself with a flourish that may have better befitted an outfit with a gown in her younger years, flinging her arm out as she showed off what she was wearing to her grandson, spinning a small circle. Black boots were the key to it but his eyes travelled up the line of her body, the crotch-less leather underwear that he had left out for her (a new purchase made, of course, with her credit card) and the black, leather hat that matched, a short peak making her appear like a badass biker woman who didn't give a shit about anything. Her eyes gleamed darkly with a hint of mascara and eye-liner, showing off the shimmering pools of them, and his heart leapt, though it was a sparkle lower down that he had not been expecting that caught his attention.

Those were new! Two stickers covered her nipples, leaving most of her breasts on show, golden stars that had the letters, simply, 'GILF' and 'CLUB' on each one. It didn't take a genius to work out what that stood for and he smirked, watching her coyly pop a hand on her hip, the heel of the boots making her legs and arse look all the more shapely and appealing, pushed up for his attention.

“Come on, let's..."

But he trailed off, something catching his eye, a gleam that he had not seen before. Steve's eyes widened, as much as he wanted to, naturally, squint in the attempt of trying to get a better look.

Wait...

_ _

How could he have missed that? Steve grinned. That was perfect! For it was not just Agatha that had the stickers on their nipples but all of the other women too, though theirs were silver, which was better befitting them, considering that Agatha had been the first to see the light. She was the one at the top of the chain, the one that he lusted for the most, and it was fitting too that she had the golden stickers, denoting who she was and proudly so too.

With that, they rode out, every man taking up position with his grandmother, obediently, sitting on his cock – everyone facing the right direction this time! As hard as it was to break from sexual debauchery, there were other pleasures still that they could take in hand and one of those was riding out as a group, shocking those around them with the luxury that was their bodies, all that they could undertake and all that, most certainly, they could do too.

The wind caressed their bare bodies, the men dressed in such a way still that their cocks could easily be freed to slip into a needy pussy at a moment's notice. Not that they ever slipped out of their grandmothers at all when on the bikes but it was good to have options too when dismounted. Steve rode at the head of the group, letting Agatha rev the engine, smirking as they picked up speed, the open road beckoning them. They roared by as if they were heading out of the city but they were just looking for a little more space in which to display themselves, to put everything out there on show for those who had their eyes open in those hours of the day.

The morning should have been quiet but Steve had planted the idea across the local area that, maybe, that was a good one to go out for a walk – though, of course, not with children. They would not come into anything – ever – that he did and he kept them safe, tucked away where they would not see, though he wanted the adults to see. The family dog needed a walk, the wife said, so off the husband trotted with grumbles on his lips and a taut leash in his hands. The jogger training for a race would look up and gape and so would the old woman waiting for the bus to arrive. No one would be spared the sight of them as they took the spotlight, letting the leaves whip around them, a scattered fall of golden shades.

“What the hell?"

A shout caught his attention and he could not resist looking back, head whipping around, to see just who it had come from. A man with his wife hiding, covering her eyes, gaped at him, unable to look away from the show of naked grandmothers riding down the street, the family resemblance between them and their sons, if not just for their skin colours, obvious to all. There was no disputing that they were related and he let the crowds gathering point and cry out, some staring abjectly while others reeled in horror.

Look away? Well, that wasn't something that humanity was all that good at doing, to be fair, and he needed to exert very little of his influence across a wider area still to ensure that as many eyes as possible were on them. At the head of the group, he wanted to be the spectacle and, well, if papers were going to write about them, he'd be the one to give them a damn good show too at the end of it! They'd see just how his cock trembled up into Agatha, the twitch of her body that meant that her pussy was squeezing down on him right at that very moment in time, the head of GILF Club, the one club that everyone who was anyone should have wanted to get into. They'd see naked, heaving breasts, clutched in hands, rolled and squeezed, nipples poking through fingers, flushed as hot swathes of heat clung to them despite being out in the open air.

Steve groaned. Yes... Yes, they would see it all, see everything the GILF Club had to offer, everything that he'd ever fantasised about, invincible in that moment and, well, more than just that going forward too. He could not have considered using that power for advancement in other areas of society but, for fetish and fantasy, there was no harm, really no harm at all. Maybe it was just something he had to say in order to convince himself of that matter but it was a matter for him and him alone as he liberated people, let them live such lives that they would no longer squeak closer to the end of the days, young at heart all over again.

They could gawk as much as they liked though, Steve even expanding his reach, taking them out of the range of his influence, deliberately so. They weren't so restrained in watching and shrieks and gasps abounded as he let loose, his cock tucked up in the hole in which it belonged, pulsing and twitching around him, aching to draw him deeper and deeper. Yet it was right where it belonged to spurt and dump a load, cum marking the seat of the bike, though it was the horrified cries of true bystanders that were music to Steve's ears. He hadn't realised how much he'd needed to shock people, how far he was willing to go to do that. And he would too!

Let them take photos! Let them alert the authorities! Throwing his head back recklessly, he laughed to the wind, letting the air sweep around him, carrying on true intentions, the passion of the ride fuelling him, driving him on. Steve did not even count his climaxes as he filled her with sloppy seed over and over again, intent on his pleasure, those around him in similar positions, need and desire thrumming through with ardent lust. And it was that lust that they needed to play out as people turned from how they looked, the grandmothers with their tits out, the gaudy stickers showing off what they were proudest of, the drama that was their little club. It was something that would go on and on too, infiltrating the world, those who were not even under Steve's control wondering just what they had to do to be part of the GILF Club, images circulating online and sparking off imaginations. He was not the only one, after all, that would find such a thing sexy and others could take inspiration from him too even as he drew from all around him.

There was no dramatic exit as they turned for home, the day creeping on, hungry pussies teasing and rippling erratically for something more pleasing. The vibrations from the rumble of the bike were all well and good and Agatha hunched forward over the handlebars, barely able to keep herself upright as yet another orgasm tore viciously through her, snarling with abject lust, her need rising, wanting more. She needed to be down, to get every last little bit of pleasure that she'd ever wanted, hadn't even known she wanted... Her mind hazed over, a fog of lust sweeping through her body.

No, no... She couldn't be on the bike for that, not for that, she needed something a little more, just a little more, a little kink for her and an itch she had to scratch. And, still, it was only Steve that could do that for her, her tits in his hands, although he'd taken care, this time, to splay out his fingers so that 'GILF Club' could still be read on her nipples. Thoughtful of him, so very thoughtful, but his cock felt so good inside her that the mere notion of holding back from yet another orgasm was beyond her as she squeezed down on him, letting the high carry her away as she put herself on display for everyone, all for Steve's pleasure above all else.

That was all that really mattered anymore.

*

Agatha didn't need to work but something in administration kept her focused and occupied, her mind as sharp as a tack in her old age. Of course, it had helped with the special diet that Steve had put her on that she had plenty of cake and sweet treats available to her in the office (Fat Fridays were still very much a thing for the greasy sandwich run too), helping her gain the weight that made her body even sexier to her grandson. Simple pleasures were, after all, some of the best and she didn't have to worry too much about what other people thought of her. She was secure in her work, working at the finance company part-time, ticking away the hours to put a little more coin in her pocket and challenge her mind just a little bit more.

Though that was not to mean that things were not stressful there too, twisting and muttering to herself in her office chair as she tried to work out what she was going to say. She hadn't had time to prepare and she didn't even know what the meeting was about. That wasn't like her! That very, very much wasn't like her at all! Yet Agatha could not tell what had happened, everything before the meeting drawing a blank as she crossed and uncrossed her legs in her smart skirt, legs in stockings and her feet cupped in low, sensible heels. At least her dress was right, not that many people were looking at a woman of her age, as much as her sharp tongue made them listen when the moment was just right.

But Steve had been right there on the other end of the phone, texting her back when she'd worried to him, asking about his college, whether he'd gotten lunch, checking in on him even though she did truly know that he was capable of doing all of those things for himself too. It was what she needed to do, looking after him, though even Agatha could see when his messages were becoming short and clipped, seeming that there was something up on the other side of it all.

But just as she was there to look after him, his doting grandmother who only had eyes for him, Steve would be there for her too. He supported her and reassured her that the meeting would be fine, just fine, and nothing bad at all would happen regardless of what had led up to the event itself. She lost herself too much in the details when the wider picture was still yet to come.

Don't worry, he'd said by text message. I'll send someone with instructions on what you should do in the meeting. It will be okay.

_ _

Ah... Well, she had to take what she could from him, the boy was eating her out of house and home! Although her words, however they were spent mentally, would have come with a harsher lilt to them in earlier times, she smiled affectionately at the phone, nodding and tucking it back into her handbag. He was a good boy really, even if he did need to work hard, had to get to a place in life where his whole family was proud of him. Even though she had not said it out loud to Steve, Agatha was glad that he had come to stay with her for college, though it was not something that she could find any particular reason for.

She had a private office, more due to seniority than because she needed the privacy, but that was something that was very much about to come up handy in her favour as a knock came on the door.

Rap-tap-tap.

Light. Feminine. She frowned. Not her supervisor. He liked to enter without knocking anyway. Typical man.

She was right in that too as the woman who entered was demure in how she cast her eyes downward, although she was about the same size as Agatha, which was fitting for what was to take place even if she didn't know it. In her hand was a piece of paper folded in half that she tucked into the palm of her hand, standing there as the door closed on her heels, sealing them away in privacy, though she did not hand it over or say anything, quiet despite her presence. If she'd not been under Steve's control, regardless of what she did or did not know, Agatha would have been shocked at her attire: a lace skirt and sleeveless top, long gloves that left her fingers free but showed off the fleshy curves of her arm. As it was, all she did was blink at the stranger. At least her black heels could have been considered office-appropriate, even though they were a little on the high side.

“Yes?" Agatha raised her eyebrows, though there was a lack of sharpness in her tone as curiosity rose through. “What do you want?"

Well, she couldn't be quite as diplomatic as she needed to be, coarse and blunt and forever direct. The strange woman brushed a brunette strand of hair back behind her shoulder, wearing it loose around her shoulders, but the smile that pulled at her lips was tainted with something darker than even Agatha could have suspected.

“Hello, Agatha," she said, speaking softly and levelly, enunciating her words as if to make sure that they were heard. “Steve sent me to assist with your meeting."

She held the letter out but Agatha hardly had to read it, barely skimming the handwritten words in a messy scrawl, his influence sweeping over her even then. She knew what she had to do as she started removing her clothes, moving as if in a dream, wondering just why she hadn't thought of it before. Truly, it was perfect, but it had to come from him, it had to be her grandson's idea, something that came from him as the other woman stripped down too, clothes exchanging hands and exchanging bodies. She had no purpose in being there except to ferry the clothes to her but, well, they could have been brought in separately – if not for the fact that it warmed Agatha through to wear another woman's clothes.

No underwear. Of course not. That wouldn't be fitting for such an important meeting.

The skirt slipped up her legs to her hips, settling into place, though it did not leave anything at all to the imagination, her top teasing down her arms. The neckline was high but her tits were on full display, the only thing to preserve her modesty there being a pasty-type circle that covered her nipples – not that that would do very much at all. But she wasn't going to worry about that, not when the clothes were so empowering, making her stand up taller, even easing the high heels onto her feet too.

Of course, she couldn't wear her stockings but the stranger took care of her clothes for her, donning them in turn as if they were all part of the grand scheme and ploy, although her taking them away in that fashion was just something that meant that Agatha would not be able to put her old, professional clothes back on again. But why would she want to do that? They were old and dowdy and not something that would impress like the lace, the heels, everything that made her feel taller than ever, more powerful than ever.

Smiling, she reached into the drawer of her desk, following the instructions on the letter to a T. The fact that a dildo and a butt plug were in there was hardly surprising and she pushed both into her hungry snatch and tight anal ring, sealing them inside her, though the flared base of the plug helped secure it better than the dildo. The dildo, as the vibrations flicked on, would be more difficult for her to hold within her pussy, her breathing already growing heavy, breasts rising and falling, drawing the eye. Agatha groaned softly, lips parted. Wasn't that just what she wanted?

Of course, it was, it was all that she needed. She needed to take strength from Steve, let him make her stronger, make her better than the woman that she was before. She was all that for him and she could rise up taller and stronger and prouder than ever with such a man in her life. The fact that he was her grandson didn't register with her, not that it should ever have been a problem, for there was so much that they too could give one another, from the motorbike rides to the frenzied, passionate sex at home.

Had that always been the case? She stood before a small mirror on her desk and adjusted her clothes, making sure everything looked absolutely perfect, not a single thread or hair out of place. It was hard for her to remember anything that had ever taken place before Steve came to live with her and, truly, Agatha didn't know that it was anything worth remembering. It couldn't have been that good if she couldn't remember a single thing. Not worth remembering and most certainly not worth worrying about one bit either.

And now she had a meeting to dominate too.

The heels clacked as she stalked down the hallway, a binder clasped to her chest, though she still turned heads, whistles following her. In other cases, that would have been time for a tongue-lashing for the perpetrator but she lusted for it right then and there, even that manner of admiration making her stand up a little taller, make herself seem bigger and more imposing than she was. She was not a woman that really took charge that much in the workplace, happy to go along with her work and be innovative where she could be, but she wanted all eyes on her then, letting the cubicle-workers drink it all in, passing by while they could only admire and whisper.

Whether they were good or bad whispers, of course, that was something else entirely. She didn't need to know that. All that mattered was how she felt inside, what her heart told her. The vibrations of the dildo trembled up into her crotch, seeming to tremor more deeply than ever before, though that could have been the click-clack of her heels on the hard floor, polished to a professional sheen. It was different and it was better, all in a very good way, something that pushed her on to another high altogether, striding into the meeting as if she well and truly owned everything.

Opulence. She said to herself, smiling tight-lipped and sharply professional at the gathered table of higher-ups, all waiting for her, the last to arrive. I own everything.

_ _

She had it all and it was there for her to take, picking and choosing what made her happy. But it was the empowerment of the meeting that she wanted all the more, the notes that she'd practised before finally coming back to her in a rush, heralded by the shaking of her legs, her first climax of the day rushing urgently upon her as if it could not be held back by any means or manner. And neither did it have to as she let the climax wash over her, whimpering softly in the back of her throat, although she did manage to maintain at least some semblance of a professional manner.

And she wouldn't have had any of it at all if not for Steve, the one who had made all of it possible for her. She had to stand tall and she had to deliver, shuffling her notes from the binder as she revealed her chest to the room, a mix of men and women though every eye in the room was on her.

They could have been horrified. They could have been adoring. Either way, she didn't care, thanking every last one of her lucky stars that she had such a good grandson, someone that was able to set up such a thing for her. And the toy itself brought everything back too, making her remember just what she'd wanted to say in the meeting, the objectives and deliverables that she wanted to report on, even the innovative situation that she wanted to put forward, at least to try for a solution. There was nothing to lose and everything to gain, so many eyes on her, watching how her unsupported breasts jiggled and swayed, drawing the eye. It would have taken far more attentive, stronger people in the room to ignore what she was wearing but Agatha would only say, in the moment and in hindsight, that they were finally paying her the attention that, truly, she had been due all along.

And, still, as she talked, there was the vibrator that she had to contend with, as delicious and resolve boosting as it was a distraction. She had to ignore it and yet it was something that could not be ignored, the tremors rising up into her crotch, seeming to reach deeply, her pussy wet and slick. She had to clench down on it viciously to keep it inside her, working her muscles, or else it would drop out onto the meeting room floor, which was most certainly not something that she wanted talked about in the meeting!

The butt plug was easier to bear but the clenching of her pussy made it shift inside her, grinding up against her most sensitive areas, making it tighter, hotter, her pussy even wetter. There was so very much that she had to go over and yet her body was her own worst enemy even if her best supporter too in the heat of the moment, driving her on and pushing her to fresh heights of lust all the time. As her climaxes blurred together, simpering through the lines that teased reality and fantasy, Agatha could barely think, reciting what she wanted to say from memory, words strong and rising, the charts on the board blind to her and yet everything that she had needed to display, to get her point across in the very best of ways.

None of it would have come back without Steve and she stood back with her hands neatly tucked before her, above her crotch, a smile on her face, as the room applauded her, a standing ovation that didn't usually happen and yet was ideal. It was all she wanted, though she could not have even said what she wanted, what made her tick, what would have made the moment all the more special for her as her pussy struggled and fought desperately to hang onto the dildo, breasts quivering.

Another orgasm as the clapping continued, someone praising her, shaking her hand, although all of that faded into insignificance as ecstasy thrummed through her, a potent force. She wanted it all, every last bit of pleasure, and she groaned out loud as she climaxed again, one orgasm rolling on and on and on, having no end as she shook the hand of the man who she was sure she'd seen on the board of directors at one point.

Thank you, Steve.

_ _

She really could not have done it without him.

*

The days may have been ticking in closer and closer to the winter season with the progress of his work and study in college but there were still some sunny days left for Steve to enjoy being out in the garden. It was not something that had appealed to him all that much before when he had intellect and video games, when allowed, to occupy him, but his control had opened up a whole new realm of gaming, controlling those around him.

Yet the garden was out in the open and he had no fear at all that they would be caught as there were no neighbours close anymore to overlook them, letting him relax his control just a little. It was too much to always be on top of everything and always be on the ball, always working and always thinking about who he had to soothe away the memories of, letting them turn the other cheek to sordid yet kinky happenings. He had enough thinking on his plate too at college! He didn't need to worry about that, not one bit. It was not for him and he leaned back in a wooden garden chair, a cushion propping his back up, the tingle of alcohol on his lips as he relaxed with what was swiftly becoming one of his favourite beverages.

His friends, Trevor, Cheet and Mark, sat beside him, though it was their grandmothers that they were busy watching, smirking and sipping away as they let them, quite literally, get down and dirty. Naked from head to toe, they did their work in cutting back dead matter in the garden to bring forth fresh life, although there was to be a very different kind of planting to take place than they may have expected for themselves. Agatha was used to having a gardener, every year, plant flowers in the autumn that would then flower in spring, but, this time, it would be her that did the work, humbling her a little. In a way, it was a little more of Steve's shaping of her, showing her a different way of life that she could not even remember from the years when she had not been so well-off, living as a housewife with servants and gardeners and all sorts of people to do the work for her while she did little. It was only when she'd wanted something to interest her too that she'd taken up work later in life, not because she had to but because it worked and engaged her mind.

Yet there was something more that she could do and it involved working with the ground, her buttocks raised for him, pussy gleaming with his semen. Steve didn't know or, right then, care whether Agatha had had an orgasm or not that day but all would come through exactly as he wanted it too, he was quite sure of that. Sweat even glistened tantalisingly on the folds of her chubby body, skin beautifully gleaming, and he groaned in the back of his throat, a man who could not hold back for much longer with such a stunning beauty of a woman before him.

Sarah's stomach, however, was swollen lightly, so much so that it would have been cause for concern if Steve and her grandson had not known what was up there. It was a pride of Trevor's, right there, that he had gotten her pregnant at such an age, although she was the youngest of the elderly ladies, denying her age as her body clearly flourished vibrantly. Steve's powers too had a hand in that, though that was something that he would only come to uncover later, his eyes lingering on the swell of her stomach, the virile rise of it that made him hunger, even then, to do the same to his own grandmother, dearest Agatha.

She'd look good pregnant...

As they worked at pulling up plants that would not flower again, dying back into the ground, the four men rose as if one being, each one of them finding their respective grandmothers. And, just like that, their cocks found the fertile holes of their pussies to plough and seed, pushing in with barely any resistance at all after the delight of a creamy filling that they had all, of course, received earlier. It was not just to denote their pleasure, after all, in orgasm but semen to lubricate them, to make sure that their cunts were always, without fail, instantly accessible to them without the natural trappings of age getting in the way. For Steve at least that was something that simply would not do under any circumstances.

And it was very fortunate for him too that there was more than enough garden to go around and they could spend all day long out there without any fear at all of being disturbed, doing just as they pleased, seeding their grandmothers over and over again, cocks ploughing fertile ground. Their holes were there, surely, to be filled and Steve set himself to the task with great pleasure, relishing each and every moment that he could make his own. Of course, he still had college to work on but even his studies were taking a back seat to the play that he insisted on delving into, working on a future and a life for himself that involved Agatha first and foremost.

As her pussy teased around the full length of his cock, Steve fucked her over the flower bed, mud staining her hands and her knees, on all fours for him and him alone. She needed him, craved him, begged him to fuck her harder, to take her more often, though they were all things that were music to his ears, the passion of her heart rising through the clamour. Now that she didn't have to worry so much about the face she put on and being angry, well, there was so very much more that Agatha could relax down into, letting herself drift away as he fucked her, taking her so many times that it was a wonder indeed that she could think straight.

She was not alone, however, the others in the same boat, lusting for their grandsons and letting a lack of inhibitions carry them forth, set on rediscovering just who they were as women, even though it was late in their lives to be doing so. Time meant nothing to them anymore and they moaned in unison, cutting over one another in their haste to be heard, cries rising and filling the air even as small songbirds warbled out a tune. They all had to feed themselves in preparation for winter too, when food would become scarcer, but the grandmothers would then be set to putting out seed for them, feeding the land as their bodies took all that they needed from it too.

It was alright. There was life waiting for them. Agatha moaned, Steve flipping her onto her back, not caring what flowers he destroyed, ramming into her with a feral growl that seemed wrong coming from his lips. He wanted her and she wanted him and that was all that she needed to think about, to worry about, even though it very much was not something that should ever have been worried about at all. In fact, one of the things that he was set on teaching her, smoothing her mind into, was the notion that worry just was not something that she ever had to think about ever again.

Agatha moaned. Let him do the thinking. Let Steve take care of her. Let Steve be the overseer of everything. It was okay now. She had him. And, sometimes, that was all a woman like her truly needed to know, letting someone else take the reins and use her and her body for devious and nefarious needs over and over again.

Mai Ling squealed, her grandson pounding her, the lewd, wet slop of his cock pounding her pussy echoing across the garden, seeming to go further than was strictly necessary. But it was all well and good as Sarah's moans joined Agatha's and Yennifer, a woman that drew the eye so tenaciously, each and every one a feast for the eyes – all of the senses, in fact. They rocked and gyrated and did everything their grandsons wanted them to, their love and passion for them rising more and more even in the autumn chill that was still nowhere near enough to chase the urge for fun from their hearts.

In the dirt of the garden, leaves branching overhead to shield them in dappled shade, there was nothing more for Agatha to do but to take her grandson's cock, letting him fill her, driving up deep, her body his to do with as he willed. If she'd been with her rational mind, Agatha would have said that that was okay too.

She groaned. It was very much okay with her now.

And Steve knew it too.