déjà-vu of a nightmare - Alan23 and Sandy)

[Sandy]

i just came home after a very trying shift. if i had only known that doc millner would be on today, i would have definitely taken this day off and would have gone up to the cottage with my husband jim and our kids this morning. but no, i had to be the responsible one, had to stay on and finish the shift cycle.

now all i want is get out of this uniform and into a nice, hot, relaxing bath. i swear i will not even think about the hospital, the patients, my colleagues and especially the dogs (that's what we nurses secretly call the docs) for the next two weeks.

tomorrow i will drive to the cottage, but tonight is my very own special relax night. somehow i do miss jim and the kids, but having the whole house for myself does have its benefits too.

i drop my uniform and underwear into the hamper, grab my bathrobe and head to the bathroom, adjusting the temperature of the water to hot, but not too hot, add scented oils to the water and head down to the kitchen to get a glass of wine.

 

[Alan23]

He had a plan. He had a talent. He had a goal.

All worthwhile, wholesome, enterprising things, maybe? Not for Eddie Daley. No. No. No.

His plan was revenge. All his life, he'd been practicing his art. Hours in front of a mirror every day. "Look at this coin. You are relaxing. You hear nothing but the sound of my voice." He'd practiced and practiced, worked his way up, from the family cat, then his four year old cousin, then to people who trusted him. He could, by now, have put anyone under he chose. But until now, he'd been content just with gaining the power. He'd never actually made them do anything. Today, that would change.

His talent was hypnotism. His plan was to take control of his chosen victim. His goal was revenge!

So that snobby, fault-finding bitch at number 17 would be the first dot on a graph. The one who, in a hypnotic sense, took his virginity. Maybe in fact, too. He was horny just thinking about it as he clashed gears on the ancient Ford van the shop used for deliveries. The bitch who worked as a nurse, and thought she was so special. Who always complained - about the delivery being too late, or him using the wrong door, or not being polite. The one with the long legs, and saggy tits, what he could see of them. Who looked at him like he was a piece of shit, just because he had pimples. She'd nearly got him the sack, last time.

So now was the day. He stopped the van. Walked into the house, carrying the two bags of groceries. Rang the bell, smiled politely, put the groceries on the table. The cow was just coming out of the bath, in some towel robe thing.

"Look at this coin, Mrs _____. See how it shines. Watch it. You hear nothing... nothing but the sound of my voice..."

Five minutes later. She is under, well and truly. He sugegsts that when he burns her with his cigarette lighter, she will feel nothing, and it will not leave a mark. This is the true test of a hypnotic surrender.

And it works.

He begins giving her suggestions. When he snaps his finger, she will remember nothing after he showed her the coin and said "look". She will not remember being hypnotized. But whenever he taps his shoulder, she will do whatever he commands.

And that means whatever!

 

[Sandy]

i am on my way up again when i hear someone knocking at the door. dang, i totally forgot about my groceries, it must be the delivery guy. i put down the glass, make sure the my bathrobe covers me completely and answer the door. it is him alright, and this time he is neither late, nor do my groceries look mangled.

"Hey Mrs. M" he smiles and looks at me with that >>do i get a tip<< smile.

i try not to look too annoyed, after all, it's not his fault that i completely forgot about the groceries and don't want anything but my hot bath right now. even when he insists on showing me some childish coin trick, i manage to humor him and pretend to be interested.

"Look at this coin" he smiles proud and, thinking that there is more than enough time before the tub will fill, i watch him twirling it around for a while, mumbling something about hearing nothing but his voice and some mumbo jumbo and ...

 

[Alan23]

It's worked. It's worked!

Just for a second, he panics. He's fantasized about this moment for so long, he's almost come to believe it was a story he's been telling himself, inside his own head. But then he gets himself together. Why did you bother doing it, he asks himself sarcastically, if you're not going to follow through.

So, here's the snobby, arrogant, complaining Mrs McAndrews, now at his mercy. And he's given her some very clever post-hypnotic suggestions. Just a few, for now, to test out his new toy - for, from now on, that's what she is. His plaything. She no longer has free will - save that deep down, some part of her knows what's being done to her, like a prisoner unable to resist, screaming from within their cell while their jailors go through their treasured belongings.

When I slap my left shoulder, he's told her, you will bend forward to inspect the groceries I've delivered. When you do that, you'll see that the robe you're wearing falls open when you bend, and that your tits are showing. A wave of embarrassment at what you are revealing will sweep over you. You will try to adjust the robe, but no matter how much you try, you will know that it's failing to protect your modesty.

Your whole mind will be engulfed with total humiliation. You will know that your tits are the saggiest, softest, smallest tits that have ever been seen on an adult woman. You will feel so ashamed of them that you will ask my forgiveness for inflicting them upon me. You will beg me to forget I've seen them.

And then, when I slap my right shoulder - you will know exactly what you've said, have no idea why you said it. You will feel total mortification that you said anything so silly.

He slaps his right shoulder with his left hand!

 

[Sandy]

for absolutely no apparent reason i feel the sudden need to check the groceries. my mind screams at me, telling me that i am wearing nothing but a bathrobe, but my body doesn't obey and i bend over the two bags on my porch. i see, feel the soft cotton belt slipping, the front of my robe opens up completely and my soft breasts dangle helplessly down. i blush deeply, feeling more ashamed than ever before in my life. clumsily i reach for the belt, desperately trying to tie it again, but whatever i do, nothing works. the belt defies all rules of physics and stubbornly stays open.

deadly ashamed i stand on my porch, still bending over the grocery bags, my bathrobe open, my breasts dangling down, and i know that i will not be able to close the robe again, no matter how hard i will try, i know it will no close. tears start to roll down my cheeks as i suddenly realize that my breasts are most certainly the saggiest, softest and smallest breasts any woman could ever have. in my humiliation i look up at the grocery delivery guy, realizing that he is staring at my open robe and, in my humiliation and shame i whisper ...

"i ... i am so sorry, s...so very, very sorry. please forgive me for forcing my saggy, soft and tiny tits on you. it must be horrible for you to have to look at my disgusting breasts. please, please find it in your heart to forgive me."

 

[Alan23]

"Yes. They are disgusting," he replies. He adopts the voice that teachers used to use to him, back in his school days. They said he'd never amount to anything - well, he thinks, how many of them now have another human being to control, to do with as they like? "Any twelve year old would be ashamed of those ridiculous little saggy dugs. Never mind a supposedly adult woman!"

He walks over to her, and hefts them, but as soon as he lets them go, they flop down again. He's deliberately given her the post hypnotic suggestion that she can never prevent him when he touches her. He could, of course, have touched her as much as he liked while she was still under the influence, but this is better. Now, he knows, she desperately wants to stop him, prevent him touching her, wants to hide her embarrassing breasts away from the world. But she can't, and she doesn't know why. He enjoys seeing the tears of humiliation roll down her cheeks.

"They really are pathetic," he continues, slapping them. They wobble, comically, from side to side, and he laughs, and by her face he can see that's made her humiliation even worse. "Let's see if the rest of you is as bad."

In her fumbling she has only managed to half-knot the belt of the robe, and a single pull releases it. He knows she'd love to prevent him, but she is totally powerless to prevent him.

Actually, her legs aren't too bad, and her figure is quite slim, but he's not going to tell her that.

"Well, the rest of you isn't much better, is it?" He continues. Look at that pot belly - how many children have you had? Fifty? And as for those gross, fat thighs and skinny calves. You really are deformed aren't you? And even your nipples aren't like a proper woman's. They're just crinkles, like paint splotches.

He inserts a finger into her vagina.

"And what an ugly cunt you have. How did it get so loose? Surely not from fucking. Who'd want to fuck a woman as ugly as you?"

He walks inside. As well as violating her body, he is now violating her house - and she can't stop him. He finds her bedroom, and begins selecting clothes. A tank top, that she's normally wear a blouse under, but for now she'll wear it on its own. Tight shorts, that he can tell only get worn in the garden. And high-heel shoes, that will make her look like the slut he is going to make her into.

"OK, put these on," he says. "We're going for a walk."

 

[Sandy]

i am still standing on my porch, my robe completely open and unable to move even though i have tried. why? what is happening to me? why can't i at least walk into the house and stop all this humiliation?

i know he was lying about my body. i do not have a potbelly, nor are my legs deformed. i might not be a model, but i am a pretty woman, and not just for my age. but why did i take his verbal and physical abuse without fighting back? desperately i try to remember what has happened, but whenever i reach the moment i felt the need to inspect the groceries, there is a void, and total blackness.

i look at the clothes he put on the railing of the porch and there is absolutely no way i will wear those. the tank top belong under a blouse or jacket, the shorts a nothing but old cut-offs that i wear in the back yard sometimes when i just want to soak in some sun, or do some light gardening. and those shoes, no way. my husband bought them 3 years ago, right after our daughter was born. i guess he wanted me to feel pretty again, but i never wore them, never ever! i am just not the type for high heels, i prefer sandals, clogs and sneakers. the only elegant shoes i ever buy are 3 inch maximum, and only to wear them on special occassions, but those are at least 5 inch, i will probaly not even be able to walk in those.

i turn to him to tell him all that and i do, but at the same time i slip out of my bathrobe and drop it on the porch, walk over to the clothes he layed out and start to dress. tears of shame run down my face. my body seems to have a mind of his own and doesn't listen to my mind. i need to know what is going on. he just grins listening to me, telling him that i will not wear those clothes, but at the same time pulling the shorts over my bum and the top over my breasts. finally i realize that i can't go on like this. i look into his amused eyes and whisper

"what are you doing to me? why am i unable to do what i want, even though i very clearly know what is right and what is wrong? what ever you have done to me, please, please stop it. give me my life back, i beg you."

 

[Alan23]

"Oh, you're so pretty when you beg," he laughs. "Pathetic, but pretty. OK, I'll answer your question. I have made you mine. My slave. To do whatever I want, when I want it. You will wear what I choose, do what I say." He watches as she wriggles herself into the cut-off shorts, and tugs with all of her strength, trying to hide her buttocks. "It's no good pulling them down like that," he continues. "They were made for a normal woman, not one with that huge fat ass of yours. The more you fuss with them, the more they're going to ride up."

She struggles into the tight tank-top, and she tugs at the hem, trying to cover as much as her midriff as possible, but it just rides up again. "Look at you. Your top can't even cover that fat belly of yours," he chortles.

When she puts the shoes on, she can barely walk. Where she got such shoes from, he can't imagine. Probably her husband brought them for her. "Is that it?" he asks, as if she can hear his thoughts. "Did your husband buy them, in a desperate attempt to make you sexy, instead of a frumpy, saggy-titted old slag? well, it didn't work. You're still ugly. Still, you'd better get used to wearing them, because it's going to be happening a lot. Whenever I choose, and I'm going to choose often."

He thought for a moment. She deserved some small mercy, at least.

"But I'm not going to make you look an idiot in front of your children. They've done me no harm, and don't deserve to know their mother's a useless, pathetic slut who can't defend herself. Now, let me look at you."

He makes her twist and turn in front of him, like a fashion model. He approaches her and again hefts her breasts, but they just fall back down again, since he has not laid out a bra for her. "Look at those useless, floppy things. Call yourself a woman? OK, get your wallet. You're taking me down to the liquor store, to buy me something to drink."

 

[Sandy]

the word "slave" hits me like a ton of bricks. my free will completely gone? unable to refuse any order from him, no matter what i want? more tears appear and silently roll down my cheeks. if he had been merciful, he would have at least taken over my mind completely, so i wouldn't remember anything, but he didn't. he must hate me bad to make me see, feel and go through all this knowingly, but unable to prevent it.

i hear myself say "yes, my husband bought those, right after our daughter was born" i can't even refuse to answer his humiliating questions, he didn't leave me any freedom at all. my hands tremble, my body shakes as i am quietly crying. i want to sit down, just for a moment, but instead i walk into the house and get my purse as ordered, waiting for him to lead the way, or give me another order, whatever it may be, i know now that i will do it.

 

[Alan23]

He leads her out to where her car is parked, smirking. She is having trouble walking in the unfamiliar high shoes, and a gentleman, anyone who cared about her might have offered her an arm to assist her. But she is a plaything, not a woman, and if she falls over it's her own problem (not to mention yet another humiliation to inflict upon her) so he does nothing. From the reflection in the car window he sees her struggling to keep up, her progress not helped by continually having to tug down the tight shorts to preserve as much modesty as possible.

"You should see the way those pathetic tits of yours wobble when you walk fast," he laughs, as she opens the door for him. He makes her stand to attention until he's seated comfortably, and only then gives her permission to get into the car and start the engine. Tersely, he gives her directions, now and then reaching across to lightly slap her breasts, causing them to jiggle in a way that causes him no end of amusement, and of course is calculated to cause her even more mortification.

He directs her to a liquor store some distance away from her home, and when she pulls up, he makes her stay seated while he gets out. When she finally emerges, he says:

"Stop pulling at those shorts and top. If you're concerned about your modesty, you ask nicely for permission to adjust yourself. Now, listen - this is what's going to happen. I'm going in, and after exactly two minutes, you follow me. While in there, you will not acknowledge me at all. But as soon as you encounter another woman, you will suddenly remember how saggy and soft those ridiculous tits of yours are. You will know that the other woman is staring at you, with pity and contempt. And you will go to the counter, and explain that your tits have sagged and you desperately need somewhere private to adjust them. And remember, I'll be watching and listening. Got that?"

 

[Sandy]

with tears in my eyes i nod, yes, understand what he wants, and even though i don't want to do it, i know i will.

just when i want to check my watch, i see myself opening the door and stepping out of the car. for a second i am amazed, it looks like my i do have some inner clock that has reacted to his order. but reality painfully pulls me back, when i stumble and sprain my left ankle. it instantly starts to swell up, but, like a robot, i continue to walk and enter the liquor store. he is the only customer in there right now, and obediently i ignore him and the clerk.

for more than 30 minutes the only people walking in are men. my ankle is swollen bad now, but i just stand there and wait, unable to do anything else. the clerk is pretty nervous now, maybe he thinks i am waiting for the right moment to rob him, when the door opens again and a woman rushes in, she walks straight to the wine section.

oh my god, did she stare at my breasts? did she notice how saggy and ridiculous they are? i blush, deadly ashamed. yes, there had been definite pity and contempt in her eyes when she passed me. i need to do something about that. but what?

with a crimson face, barely holding back my tears i approach the clerk and whisper: "please sir, my tits sag real bad. i really need to adjust them. do you have some place private where i can do that. please, it is an emergency"

he stares at me with an open mouth "WHAT?" he says and i try to explain again "it's my tits sir, they sag. i need to adjust them." why doesn't he understand? i am getting impatient now. doesn't he see that i need to do this right now?

"get the fuck outa my store" he starts to yell "out, NOW, before i call the police!"

"but sir, my tits, don't you see?" i blush furiously, but i know i can't possibly leave before i have adjusted them. i NEED to do that, and i NEED to do it now.

 

[Alan23]

"Lady, I don't know what stupid joke you're playing," the clerk growls. "What is this, some kind of set up? If you don't get out of my store right now - "

But He, her young master, already squirming in delight, decides to escalate the situation further. He's already made a good selection of liquor, with cash taken from her bag, now he approaches the counter, an innocent look on his face, faking embarrassment. "She's done this before," he whispers to the clerk. "I saw her try this a few weeks ago. You'll never get rid of her until you give her what she wants."

The clerk looks at Sandy, with amazement, He realizes that the last thing he needs, with this store's record of selling to minors, is a visit from the cops. But the alternative isn't one he likes. Young Master whispers some more in his ear, and his face takes on an amazed expression.

"Are you sure?!" he asks. He looks back at Sandy, who is now standing, helplessly, looking about to burst into tears again. Finally, he goes out to the back of the store, and comes back with a female assistant who is on her break. She, too, looks quite puzzled by the situation.

"I understand, ma'am," she says, nervously, "That you need help adjusting your - erm - your breasts."

The female customer is looking across, amazed, at the tableau. She has heard the conversation, and thinks it's totally crazy. It is for this reason that she is staring at Sandy, wondering if she is some lunatic escaped from the funny farm.

But what Sandy reads, in her expression (thanks to the post hypnotic suggestion) is:

"Poor woman. I've never seen such soft, saggy mazoomas. And so tiny, too. No wonder she wants to try and hoist 'em up somehow, try and make herself at least slightly more presentable. Wonder why she doesn't wear a bra - guess they don't make 'em that small."

"Hey, I really didn't plan to wait here all day, y'know," puts in Young Master, pretending to be totally upset by the whole incident. He looks at the female clerk, then at the lady customer. Both decline. "Oh, for fuck's sake, I need to get my stuff and get out of here," he growls. "Here, I'll do it."

He walks up to Sandy, but instead of fixing her breasts through the top, he deliberately flips it up, so that her nipples are on show to everyone. He hefts up both breasts, which immediately flop back down again. "Nah, it's no good," he says, as if disappointed. "Sorry lady, but these breasts are just too soft and droopy to ever sit upright." He pulls her top down again, pays for his liqueur, and goes back to the car.

He has made her give him the keys, and he drives the car around the block a few times, before picking her up at the agreed destination where he has told her to wait.

"Honestly, what an exhibition you made of yourself in there," he spits out. "It's bad enough having such pathetically saggy tits, without drawing attention to them. OK, now we're going to fix that."

A few minutes later he pulls up in the car park of a shopping center. He gives her careful instructions to make for an underwear shop, while he follows, pretending not to know her. She is having trouble walking now, what with the heels and her twisted ankle, and her efforts to keep up the fast pace he has ordered make the shorts ride up even more. Now, her ass cheeks are hanging out, and at the front, wisps of public hair are visible. Other women are looking at her, some are giggling.

One helpful woman approaches, and whispers in her ear.

"Er, excuse me," she says, thinking she's helping. "I don't know if you know, but your shorts seem to have worked up, and you're showing rather a lot. You might want to correct them."

Young Master smiles in delight. He hadn't planned this. He waits eagerly to see how Sandy deals with this.

 

[Sandy]

walking down the mall i noticed my shorts riding up higher and higher, but somewhere deep in my mind, a voice kept telling me that i was not allowed to adjust them without asking permission first. just then an older lady aproached me and whispered that my shorts seem to have worked up. with tears in my eyes i gratefully whispered back


"may i please pull them down?"


she looks at me as if i was completely mad, but with a shrug of her shoulders she replies "be my guest child, pull them down as far as you like" and she walks away quickly, as if she doesn't want to be seen with me. but it doesn't matter, i have permission now and carefully pull my shorts down the best i can. they are way to short to ear them in public, especially without underwear ...


underwear, yes, i have to find a lingerie shop. that is important now! clumsily i continue, my left ankle hurting real bad, but i can't rest, not now, not before i find the right shop. the mall directory was very clear, it had to be here somewhere. finally i see it, it's a small boutique, and the dessous in the window are absolutely not what i would usually wear, but there is no other shop here, so i walk in. usually i would now look for something suitable, and buy it, but i know i can't do that. i walk up to a bored sales lady and want to ask for something in cotton, comfortable and not to showy, but instead i say


"i have tiny tits that sag down to my navel, and i don't shave my cunt. do you have anything that would make my saggy udders look at least somewhat human, and panties that will cover my hairy snatch?"


she looks at me in shock and gasps for air, but i am as shocked as she is and tears of humiliation start to roll down my cheeks again, while i blush crimson. all i want to do is run out of the store and crawl into some hole, but i can't


instead i tell her "money is no object, just find something, anything that would solve my problem"


slowly she starts to grasp the situation, and, to my surprise she looks around and, ignoring me she calls out "ok jamie, you asshole, where are the cameras?"


with tears in my eyes i shake my head. "no, no cameras" i say "underwear, a bra and panties please"


she looks at me again and then around the store one more time. "did you say money is no object?" she asks carefully?


"yes" i reply, knowing that this is very wrong. why would i want to spend money in a boutique when i could get decent and comfortable underwear in any department store? but i know i do need it, and i know i need to try it on right away.


"well" she says looking me up and down "do you mind showing me some id?"


nervous as i am it takes a while to find my drivers license, but she seems satisfied with that. "come with me ... uh ... lady. what size are you?" she says and walks to the back of the store. "36 c" i reply and she looks at me with a raised eyebrow. "didn't you say tiny?" "yes, tiny. 36 c" i answer and she shakes her head but shows me several bra and panty combinations and i don't like any of them. they are all frilly and mostly see through, but even though i don't like them, i select a black pair, not even looking at the price tag.


"i have to try them on" i say and to my surprise she nods "yeah, if i were you, i would too. but when you try them, and not buy them, you will have to pay 10% of the price. we can't sell them full price if someone did wear them, you know."


no i don't know, and i think it is ridiculous, but instead of protesting i just nod and follow her to the changing room. for some reason i am unable to close the curtain behind me, but the second she notices it, she does, and i feel very relieved. the bra is scratchy, but it does fit, and the panties rise up to my hips, way over the shorts i'm wearing, but they both fit well, and the bra finally holds my soft breasts in place. i do want to keep them on right now, but for some reason i take them off again, slip into my too short shorts and my tank top again and leave to changing room.


"i take them" i announce, and the lady grins happy. i pay with my credit card, and she checks my id again. looking at my face for quite some time before she gives it back to me.


she wants to put the bra and panties into a shopping bag, but something tells me that this would not be good. "no" i announce to her surprise "i take them like that" and i grab both pieces in one hand and leave the store.

 

[Alan23]

Seeing Sandy emerge from the shop, carrying her purchased underwear, Young Master smiles to himself again. He has been listening outside the shop, and heard that his post-hypnotic suggestions have worked perfectly. She has done, and said, everything he asked. The look of total humiliation on her face is one he will never forget. Now the only thing left is for his final suggestion to kick in - which is does just as she has walked a few paces.

He enters the shop, and shyly tells the sales lady he is looking for a special gift for his girlfriend. While he is engaged in the conversation with her, he sees Sandy walk back into the shop, and he recalls the final instructions he has given her.

When you leave the shop, after you have walked exactly ten paces, you will go back inside. You will tell the sales lady you have changed your mind, and have decided to wear them home after all. But no matter, you don't need to go into a booth. You'll be quite happy to change them in the shop.

You will then strip off your clothes, put on the underwear, then put your clothes back on again.

Then, in as much detail as you can, you will make a detailed apology to the sales lady and anyone else you find in there, for exposing your revolting, droopy apologies for breasts to them. You will ask for help in adjusting them, from everyone you find in there.

 

[Sandy]

almost immediately after leaving the store i look at the underwear in my hand. why am i carrying it in my hand when i don't wear any underwear under my clothes. i shake my head and walk back into the store. the sales lady is busy with a customer, but i just smile at her and say

"i have changed my mind, i will wear the bra and panties right now. don't bother with the changing room though, i can change right here."

i can't believe i just said that, but worse, without waiting for a reply, i pull the tank top over my head, drop it in the middle of the store, open my storts, push them down and step of of them. completely naked, tears now streaming down my cheeks and my face red as a valentines ballon, i unfold the underwear i still have in my hand and start dressing again.

people must have seen me through the store window, and now walk in to get a better look. i am so glad that i am dressed again, even though the panties ride up to my hips and are clearly visible above my shorts. all i want now is get out of here and the poor sales lady is pale as a sheet now. but instead of leaving, i walk over to her and say:

"i'm so sorry lady that i forced you to see my revolting, droopy excuses for breasts, but the bra doesn't seem to hold them as tight as it should. would you mind helping me to adjust it?"

"N...NO" she stutters "no i most certainly wont do that"

i turn to the young man she was talking to when i came in "please sir, i know i should not have made you look at my ugly, saggy tits, but would you be so kind to help me adjust my bra?"

 

[Alan23]

This is it. The moment. The look on her face is priceless when she sees it is him. She has not known he was in the store, which is why he's kept his face hidden. She must think he is some kind of magical ninja, who can pop up where he likes.

He feigns shock, and looks at the sales woman as if for inspiration. She gives him a significant look, saying "what a lunatic" - but Sandy reads that as "No wonder she needs help, with such pathetic saggy tits." Sandy's face, if possible, looks even more mortified.

"I... I... I guess she won't go away and stop acting w-weird unless I do," he whispers, giving the saleslady the impression he is doing it reluctantly, to keep the peace. "OK, I s-suppose I'll have to,"

He walks up to Sandy, pretending to be hideously upset by the whole affair, and begins fiddling with her breasts, seeing that her face has become even redder. After a few moments, in which the breasts just sag down again, he turns to the saleswoman and says "Sorry. I've tried to help her, but they're so small and saggy, even with this bra on, there's nothing to be done."

He leaves the shop, and waits by her car. A few minutes later, because he's ordered her to leave after him, she returns, gets in the car, and asks him where to next.

"I think we'll go swimming," he replies.

* * * * *

He makes her drive him to the local pool, one where you can hire swimwear. He makes her wait in the car, while he seeks out the female attendant at the booth where swimsuits can be hired. He has to wait about ten minutes, until there are no other customers, then he goes to the booth where he hires a pair of board shorts, then catches the eye of the attendant, and very soon she is under his influence. He gives her certain post-hypnotic suggestions.

Sandy arrives a few minutes later. She walks up to the booth, and asks to hire a swimsuit. The attendant, following his suggestion, stares angrily at Sandy's breasts.

"I'm sorry, madam," she says, insultingly. "But there's no way we have anything to fit you, not with those saggy breasts. I don't think even our children's suits are small enough to fit them. Why, they hang down almost to your waist. How do you get by, with such revolting things?"

She has, also according to Young Master's instructions, turned on the PA system - so that what she says is broadcast all over the pool. The excited chattering and screeching stops, as everyone listens to what she is saying. Loud laughter breaks out, and many people rush to the booth, to catch a sight of this freak, who has such droopy breasts that they can't even find a swimsuit to fit her.

"Hey, that's not fair," speaks up Young Master, pretending to have just arrived. "It's not that lady's fault her tits are so saggy. I think you should make a special concession, and let her swim in her underwear, just this once."

The cry is eagerly taken up by several other people, and reluctantly the woman gives permission.

Soon, Sandy, shivering with shame, is sitting in the pool, with everyone looking at her. After a while, when attention is dying down, Young Master sneaks up to her.

"So, how are you feeling about this?" he asks. "Want me to stop?"

 

[Sandy]

i look at him with tearstained eyes. "yes please, please stop this now. oh please make it stop." my body is trembling and more tears flow down my cheeks as i sit here in see through underwear in a public pool.

 

[Alan23]

Without giving any decision on her plea, he allows her to leave the pool, and forces her to rendezvous with him in the car park. During that time, he's dried off and dressed, but he forces her to keep on her wet underwear, which is now totally see-through, and drive home that way. He knows that as an obviously shy woman, she hates that as much as anything.

As they drive, he explains the situation.

"So, you want me to lift my influence, then? Hmm, what a ridiculous creature you are." He runs his hand up along her leg, up into her panties, fingering her vagina. "Why would I, when I can do anything - absolutely anything - I like with you? You do know that, right? I could make you kill your husband, sell your children into prostitution, shove a gerbil up your dry, hairy cunt, and they'd be nothing you could do about it. You're mine. Totally."

He pretended to consider for a moment.

"OK, then, as a special concession - since you're so pathetic, and useless - I'll give you a break. As soon as we get back to your place, I'll lift my hypnotic influence."

He sees her mouth fall open, and she starts to blurt out a torrent of gratitude and relief, but he cuts her off.

"But there's a price," he continues.

"Once we get back to your place, I'll free you from my influence. But remember, I still have control over you. Any time I like, I only have to touch my shoulder and you snap right back into my control. Think of yourself as having a holiday, you aren't free from me forever. And as the price for this special concession..."

He gives a wide grin.

"For two days every week, whenever your husband's away, I'll come to your house. And on those days, you must voluntarily do everything I tell you. Everything! You'll be my total slave. And if you get anything the slightest bit wrong, disobey in the slightest - back under the influence you go."

He squirms in delight at the new plan. It was fascinating enough that she was being forced to obey him under the influence of hypnotism, but at least she had the one thing to cling to, that it was beyond her control. Now he would be able to make her do things and she would be forced to choose them - an even greater humiliation for her.

 

[Sandy]

i ponder my options, and i know he is right. i have fought his orders, but have not been able to disobey. and more than that, i have experienced him taking control of the poor girl at the pool with the same ease. i don't really have a choice, even if he tries to make it look like that. gulping hard i whisper

"am i able to speak freely now? or will i be unable again to say what i think?"

he laughs delighted. "you are not that stupid after all. yes, the is no post hypnotic block on you now, except the one preventing you from slapping me when i touch you. you may speak your mind."

i nod quietly and wipe away some more stubborn tears before i continue "i have no choice. you have demonstrated very clearly that your control, whatever it is, is stronger than my own free will. but i beg you, and i will get on my knees if you want, i beg you not to make me do this. i am, and have always been faithful to my husband. i know you can make me brake that vow anytime you like, but you are asking me to do it voluntarily, asking me to do this on my own, without hypnotic force, and that is one thing i really can't do." i stop for a moment, my eyes searching his, hoping to find at least a hint of mercy in them.

"i don't know why you hate this much, but i guess it doesn't matter now. what i can offer to make up for anything i might have done to you is money. i have a savings account where i have put every dime that i managed to safe over the last ten years, hoping to get enough money to surprise my husband on day with something big. there are close to 8.000 on it now, and if you could find it in your heart to release my from what ever you have done to me, i will gladly give it to you."

anxiously i look at him. this really is all i have to give and i can only hope that, what ever infuriated him would be covered with that money. i really don't want to go through an experience like today ever again, but if i can only get my freedom back by knowingly cheating on my jim, i don't want it. he doesn't deserve that!

 

[Alan23]

He gives a loud, wicked laugh. "Do you really think I want your money, you stupid saggy-titted cow. If I wanted to steal your money, I could just have ordered you to give it to me. Don't you understand, I can do anything I want with you. You aren't a human, any more. You're just a toy."

But, against all odds, she has scored a point - though she doesn't know it. She might have agreed to anything, just to be free, yet she didn't. She said she wouldn't be voluntarily unfaithful to her husband. Sure, he could make her fuck him under the influence, or even physically force her, for she was nowhere near strong enough to resist. But that was nowhere near the same thing. Nowhere at all.

She has, in a small way, gained a victory. And rather than enrage him, he almost feels proud of her, as an owner might if his dog learns an especially clever trick.

"Listen, bitch," he says, angrily. "Your husband and children have done nothing bad to me. They've never looked down on me for just being a delivery boy, spoken to me like shit, complained about me to the shop and nearly got me the sack. In fact I feel sorry for your husband, having to fuck an ugly, dry-cunted floppy-boobed woman like you. And I feel sorry for your children, having such a weak, useless mother. Stop the car!"

When she does so, he immediately puts her under.

"This time," he says, "When I snap my fingers and you wake up, you will remember this post-hypnotic command I'm about to give you. It's this. If I ever do anything that hurts your husband, or your children, or make you do such a thing, you will be immediately freed from my hypnotic influence, for good and all, and I will never be able to control you again."

He snaps his fingers.

"There, that was a special concession, for being so pathetic," he says. "Now, I'm getting out here. I want you to pick me up on the corner of Beech Street and 54th, outside the movie theater, at exactly 4PM next Tuesday. And you are to wear a business suit, and hosiery, and a slip, and professional shoes. Got that?"

He sees a slight look of relief flit across her frightened face. Obviously she thinks that his having her dress professionally, instead of the revealingly slutty clothes he made her wear before, means he is going to give her a further break.

She is going to be sadly disappointed!

 

[Sandy]

he has really surprised me this time. i had pictured quite a few different things he might have don to me after turning his offer down, but not that.

trying to remember what i have done to him, all that comes to mind are two different incidents. ones he had delivered my groceries copletely smashed up. 4 broken eggs had flooded the back, the salad was crushed and a bottle of ketchup squeezed flat, it's contense spread all over the bag, and another time i had told the store manager that i needed the delivery before 6 pm because we had guests over for dinner, and i still had to prepare it, but when he finally arrived it was after 7 and i didn't have any time left to get dinner ready. of course i had complained about that, who wouldn't have? and the store manager had told me, that he had gotten quite a few other complaints about him, and was ready to fire him. silly me even intervened, saying that it wasn't really serious enough for the young man to loose his job. if i had known what he would do to me i surely would not have complaint at all, no way, i would have looked for another store right away.

i manage to get home unnoticed and immediately change and then burn the tank top, shorts and high heels. i want to throw the awful new underwear in the fire too, but i can't. instead i fold it carefully and put it into my underwear drawer not in the hamper. i know it must be some post hypnotic suggestion, and start to cry again.

my ankle looks awful, but, having three kids, i have everything i need in the house. with a cooling salve and a tight bandage, it will be ok in a couple of days. my thoughts wander to next tuesday, and i shiver. what will he do to me that time? i don't know that area of town very well, and didn't even know that there was a movie theater there. and why a business suit? i only own one suit that would qualify for that. i bought it about a year ago to go to a funeral. it is very formal, and black, of course. i check my closet to see if it is still presentable.

even though it is still hanging inside the platic cover of the dry cleaner, i feel not comfortable about it, and i take it out and bring it to the cleaners again.

"it will be ready on monday" the lady says, and that seems awfully close, so i stress the fact that i will really, REALLY need it by then, and would not accept any excuse. she looks at me irritated and reapeats "ready on monday, i already said that"

time really moves too fast when you are waiting for something horrible to happen. the dry cleaner was true to her word, and i picked up the suit in time. tuesday came and i woke at 5 am, too nervous to fall asleep again. the whole day went by in a daze, and way too soon it was 3:00 pm, time to change. i select a particullarly conservative bra and panties, and, even though it is a hot day, a pair of pantyhoses 100. slipping on the panties is not a problem, but when i want to put on my bra, my fingers don't obey me. in panic i try to recal what he told me ...

"wear a business suit, and hosiery, and a slip, and professional shoes"

OH MY GOD, he didn't mention a bra, nor a blouse, so it appears that i will not be able to wear anything but what he ordered me to wear. i try the pantiehose and sigh in relieve when it doesn't give me any trouble, and to my real joy, i am also able to wear the blouse i selected. maybe for him it is part of the suit, i really don't care, it just feels so good to be covered. i button it up all the way, slip into the skirt and the jacket, and, hot day or not, button the jacket too.

my breasts still wobbel without a bra, but blouse and jacket do hold them in check, so that they at least don't bounce. a quick check tells me that i have 35 minutes left. i walk into the bathroom, brush my hair, and again get a shock when my hands don't let me take my eyeliner. ok, no panic, i tell myself. it is not necessarry.

the shoes i bought for this suit have 4 inch heels, not comfortable, but absolutely walkable. i grab my purse and leave. i get there in time, with 7 minutes to go, but i can't find a place to park my car. driving around the block, again and again, i begin to panic. i can't see him anywhere. it is 4 pm when i turn the corner of beech and 54th again, and there he is. i stop right next to him, ignoring the angry honking behind me. my pulse races, my heart bounces in my chest, but i am here, parking space or not.

 

[Alan23]

He jumps into the car, shuts the door in a single fluid motion, and says "Drive."

He notes her nervousness, the jumpy way she drives, and takes satisfaction in it. Now and again, he pretends to sip from a large water bottle, but in fact he only holds it to his lips and then lowers it. What he is about to do, he could have made her do by hypnotic suggestion, but this way is more fun. As if making a special concession, he passes her the water bottle, allowing her to take a drink. Since her mouth is obviously dry she takes a large swallow. He directs her to the central part of town, allowing her to park in a parking lot a short walk from the central square, as usual making her sit while he alights.

When she emerges from the car, he looks her up and down, critically. Actually, she doesn't look too bad, in the black suit and white blouse, the dark pantyhose and shoes with the slight heel. Again, he finds he is almost proud of her. But there's no way he is going to admit that.

"Your pantyhose are wrinkled," her barks at her. "Pull them up. And tuck in that blouse properly. And hitch those tits up - they're sagging even more than usual." He makes her wait, until there are as many people around as possible, before he allows her to adjust her attire, so they will all see her making her intimate adjustments, that most women perform in private. The look on her face suggests she is about to ask if she can wait until no-one is looking, or try to hide behind the open door of the car, but obviously she's already learned better than to depend upon his mercy.

Within a few minutes, they will walk through the central square, crowded with people. And about then, he calculates, the powerful diuretic he has mixed with the water will begin to work. Within a very short time, she will have a desperate need to urinate. But he does not plan to grant her permission to visit a washroom. In the meantime, he watches her walk nervously towards the area that is most densely packed with people.

 

[Sandy]

fighting my tears i follow him towards the public square. i really don't understand him. one minute he is attentive and almost nice, like when he noticed that i was really thirsty on this hot day, wearing a suit that is much to warm, then he humiliates me by forcing me to adjust my hose and blouse in front of all those people. maybe he got angry at himself for sharing his water bottle with me for sharing his water bottle with me, and that his angered was directed against himself.

he walks fast and i have to hurry to keep up with him. the square is crowded, and i envy most of the people here, wearing casual, light clothes, while i begin to sweat in my black business suit now. weird, i usually don't sweat at all, not even in a sauna. i stop dead when my bladder suddenly starts acting up. this is impossible, i went to the bathroom before i left, not even an hour ago. but there is no doubt about this, i really need to pee, and soon.

embarrassed i stop him and whisper blushing deeply "please, could i just go into one of those restaurants for a few minutes, i really have to go"

when he looks at me i see an amused twinkle in his eyes, but it is gone in a fraction of a second, replaced by a somewhat annoyed and puzzled look. "we are not here on a date, and i am not taking you out for dinner you stupid bitch. we will not go to a restaurant, so just follow me, will you."

i know he knows, maybe it was the water he gave me, although i did saw him drink it too, but i also know that he will not let me go if i don't give him more than a visit to a restaurant. i blush even more and try again ...

"please, i ... i need to go to the washroom"

"if you want to wash up, you should have doen that at home. but if your hands are all sweaty, i can let you have the water bottle to clean them. but again, NO restaurant"

i am getting desperate, pressing my thighs together i dance from one foot to the other.

"no, i don't want to wash my hands, i ... i need to go ..."

"go where? we are walking, aren't we, just not to a restaurant. you are really annoying me here. what is it you want from me you stupid cow?"

hardly able to hold back any more i whisper "i need to pee, i really, really need to pee"

he looks at me and shakes his head mocking me "what do you need? stop whispering silly bitch. i can't understand a word you are saying."

by now quite a few people around us look over. even for the dumbest of them it must be apparent why i am dancing around with my thighs pressed together. i finally understand what he is doing to me. it is another game of humiliation he is playing. he wants me to announce in front of all those people that i need to pee. but i don't care anymore, if i have to shout it out, so be it, as long as i can finally go to a washroom.

"i need to pee" i scream and people around us start laughing, while others come closer to see what is going on.

"you don't need to shout, you know" he says with a bright grin "don't you have any shame woman? i mean really, in front of all these people here. and anyways, why are you telling me? am i now responsible for your bodily functions? you really are a weird one. if i need to go, i surely wont tell you, or all those good people here."

in the corner of my eye i see some people nodding their approval to his little speech. yes, if that crazy woman needs to go, why does she bother to tell the young man, or scream it out to everyone.

but it is too late now, the pressure has been too much. a damm breaks lose inside me and warm, wet urin gushes out, my pantyhose is wet in seconds, even my skirt shows a big wet spot that quickly gets bigger. i stand there on a crowded plaza, people staring at me and pee myself like a 2 year old girl, except that i am 32, and nobody shows mercy on a grown woman who pees herself in public.

some people start to aim their cell phones at me, and i realize that they are taking pictures. by tonight i will probably be a you-tube star. this is all too much, my face crimson, tears running down my cheeks, i run, run as fast as i can in my uncomfortable shoes. all i want is reach my car and get as far as i possibly can.

 

[Alan23]

The Young Master laughs out loud, watching Sandy struggle. Her face has taken on that usual look, that always appears when she is in the throes of total humiliation, the look of a victim, totally defeated and helpless. Her crossed legs, her bright red face, the desperation in her large, pretty eyes - all are signs of total subjugation, his total control. And, the best of it is, he is doing it without any form of hypnotic influence. He is not only forcing her to do this, he is forcing her to choose to do it.

Looking at the ring of spectators that has gathered around, he knows he is not the only one horny as hell from this. The flashing of cell-phone cameras tell their own story. "I have no idea who she is," she says, putting on his best innocent look. "The crazy bitch came up to me and said she needed to piss, and would I take her to the bathroom and help her. I told her, I'm a guy, I can't go into a woman's restroom, it's illegal, and that she sure as hell couldn't go into a male room. Then she started abusing me, and dancing around - then look, she wet herself."

The scene is etched into his mind for ever. Her frantic struggle as she tried not to piss herself, the look of total determination on her face as she fought in vain. The small spot appearing on the back of her skirt as the urine soaked through her panties and pantyhose and slip, then growing bigger as more piss gushed, and she was powerless to stop it. It had not been just a spot, it had been a tidal wave, her skirt had been soaked, and small driplets had been falling from the hem onto the floor.

Hampered by her heels and wet clothes, she cannot run very fast, and though he doesn't hurry, he catches up with her just as she reaches the car. In her panic and mortification she's forgotten he made her give him the keys, so she can't get in. All she can do is stand there, wrenching at the door handle, in her wet skirt, sobbing, like a young child who can't control their bladder, except that she's a grown woman.

"Do you know how pathetic you look?" he asks. "Honestly, it's like having a young kid. I'd have thought an adult woman - even one with horrible floppy tits - could at least manage not to wet herself in full view of everyone. Well, I'm not having you drive me home like that, all wet and smelling of piss. You're going to need a change of clothes."

He points to the steps back to the square.

"You're going to go to "Trina's" boutique, a block past the square. And tell them that you've wet yourself, like a pathetic little kid, and need to buy a change of clothes. And I'm going to be following you, to make sure you do it properly."

And he shadows her, a few paces behind, watching as she walks to the boutique, seeing heads turn to look at this crazy woman who has wet herself in public, and yet still walks through the streets instead of making her discreet way home as any sane woman would after such an event.

 

[Sandy]

i look at him, my shame and humiliation turning to anger. there is no way that he will make me walk back, not after what happened, and that is exactly what i will tell him right now. i open my mouth ... but nothing comes out. instead of telling him off, i turn, my wet skirt clinging indecently, noisily to my wet pantyhose, and i walk back towards the square. tears flooding my face, i am under his control again.

doing my best to ignore the crowds, laughing and pointing at me, taking photos and videos with their cell phones, i finally reach the boutique. both sales ladies are outside, close enough to keep an eye on the store, but too curious about the hubbub on the square to stay inside. when they notice me walking up to them, their amused smiles turn to indecision. the crazy woman, who just peed herself in public wants to enter their boutique, should they let me in? should they use this oportunity to make money, or would it be better to tell me to get lost and not have their name pulled into this?


the older one looks at me and when she sees my tearstained face, she feels sorry, and says

"it's ok, hun. you go right into the fitting room. i'll find something for you and will bring it over."


grateful i want to thank her, but instead i have to say what he has ordered me to say, so i stutter ...

"i...i have wet myself l...like a pathetic little child and...and need to buy a change of clothes."

"yes hun, i can see that. no need to state the obvious" she replies annoyed, probably already regretting that she asked me in. she points to several small cubicles, and when i enter the one farthest to the entrance, she quickly dashes to the counter and hands me a plastic garbage bag "for your ... uhm ... things" she mumbles.

thankful i accept it and undress quickly, stuffing my soiled skirt, panties and hose into the bag, including my ruined shoes. i don't have to wait long for her to return with couple of dresses, a blouse and a skirt. she hands them to me through the curtain. i look them over, one dress is a size too small, the other and the skirt are exactly my size, but the blouse is a little transparent and i really don't need a blouse anyways.

i try on the skirt, since my own blouse and jacket are still fine. it is actually really nice, but it is lime green, and looks awkward with my black jacket. softly i call for the kind sales lady, and she answers right away, probably standing in front of the changing room.

"do you have a skirt in black please, and underwear, please."

"no underwear hun, sorry. we don't sell lingerie. how about the size, is that ok?"

"yes" i reply, the skirt is perfect, just the color doesn't fit."

"geez, you really worry about color?" she giggles, but returns a few minutes later with a couple of black skirts.

the nicer one is way to short to wear without panties, stopping a few inches over my knees, and the other only just covers my knees too, but it is a lot saver than the short one.

"i hate to bother you again" i whisper, but do you sell shoes too?"

"no, sorry. no lingerie, no shoes." she replies.

barefoot, wearing the new skirt, holding the garbage bag in my left hand, i step out of the safety on the fitting room. she looks at me quizzically and then nods.

"not perfect, hun, but considering your options, the best you can hope for" she nods.

i swallow a few times and thank her for her kindness, feeling extremly vulnerable wearing a skirt without panties. but she is right of course, considering my options this is so much better than before. the price for the skirt is outrageous, but, having no choice i pay and leave the store.

quite a few people have followed me from the square, but they all seem disappointed when i walk out, more or less decently dressed again, even though barefoot. but they can't know that i'm not wearing anything underneath my new skirt, so the crowd quickly dissolves and only my tormentor stays.