Uncle’s Hypnosis Game 3
* * *“What the hell is going on?” Uncle Frank asks me as I get into his work van.
I don’t know what to tell him, my mind mushy warmth and cold dread combined, but I feel compelled to answer anyway.
“I’m a good slut,” I whisper, and then, in an even weaker voice I mouth, “I know there’s something wrong with me.”
He waits until I slam the sliding door of his van closed, before muttering, “Yeah, there’s clearly something wrong with you.”
I cling to the backside of his enger seat as he takes off, peeling off down the street. He drives for a long time in silence, all the while my warm brain blaring: STRIP NUDE AND WALK AROUND IN PUBLIC, BLOW THE NEXT MAN YOU SEE, TAKE A COCK UP YOUR ASS….
I need to do one of those things to satisfy the requirements of my game. If I don’t, then I’ll lose out on making my new mare a six star, and after everything I’ve already been through today, I know I just need to do it to feel alright with myself. I’m already in too deep. The anxiety of not completing at least one of the missions is starting to make me feel sick. There was no timer on the game, that I saw, but I know it must be wanting me to complete it soon . . . or it’ll fail me and maybe even take away my new mare.
“Please help me,” I plead, squeezing my eyes shut against the fervent compulsion to ask my uncle if he might let me blow him to make it all go away.
But I can’t just throw myself at him when he doesn’t seem interested. That would be the opposite of pleasing a man. It would make him angry, and if he’s angry he’s definitely going to tell my dad. I definitely don’t want that. I don’t want what happened at school to blow up in my face. I don’t want any of this—but I do want to upgrade my mare in FarmerVilla, because achieving things in the game is important. It relaxes me. It makes everything okay again.
Uncle Frank abruptly stops the van, killing the engine. I can see out the front window that we’ve parked in some wooded area. The large trees shadow us against the bright afternoon sun.
“Tell me what’s going on, now,” he demands, turning in his seat so that his green eyes can latch onto mine.
I don’t know where to start. My face burns as I find myself rambling on about how I started playing a new game—and how it has videos and prompts that muddle me up inside and ask pervy things of me. Soon, I find myself telling him everything I’ve done in the process of trying to appease the game, all the while watching flickering emotions dance across his alarmed face.
“You blew Joe?” he rasps, his eyes wide.
“Yes—please don’t tell dad!” I cry out, horrified by the shellshocked look on Uncle Frank’s face; he must be absolutely disgusted with the both of us, his face going red then deathly pale—and I can see him imagining it behind the wheels turning in his eyes.
“Jesus.” He blinks at me slowly, disengaging himself from the driver’s seat to awkwardly move into the pit of the van with me. “Why Joe?”
“I sent him some videos, like I sent you….”
“Oh.” He pauses, his face scrunching up. “So . . . he took you up on it?”
“I threw myself at him,” I insist, knowing that he’s thinking of not only reporting my bad behavior to my dad, but now his own brother’s. I can’t let that happen. “I need to please men. I need to please you.”
“Stop it,” he chokes out, nearly folding his knees into his chest. He glares at me, his eyes swiftly moving over my disheveled hair and my wrinkled sundress. “You just blew a boy outside of your school?”
“Yeah, I needed to. I owed him for masturbating in detention and getting him suspended. Several students were filming me. He didn’t show the video he took to the principal….”
Uncle Frank grunts, taking out his phone and typing into it. A moment later, his eyes grow wide. “It’s all over social media, Stella—under your full name.”
My insides turn to hot liquid, sloshing violently in my gut. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what to do!”
“Your dad might definitely see this, kiddo,” he whispers, still staring at his phone.
“Please,” I whimper, my hands flying to the skirt of my dress. I strip it off, ignoring his startled hiss. “I need your help.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” I say with a groan as I yank off my bra.
I need to fulfill one of the obligations, and if Uncle Frank isn’t interested in me blowing him or shoving his cock up my ass, then I need to strip nude and go out into public. The warmth in my mind is pushing all through me, driving me to act. I can’t fail this quest or all my hard work will be for nothing. I absolutely won’t let my farm be in jeopardy—and if my dad is already going to find out about my problems, because my classroom finger-fest videos are posted all over social media, what does it matter if Uncle Frank rats me out or not?
“Stella,” he gasps, taking in my large, bouncing tits.
His eyes latch onto my bubblegum-pink nipples; they perk up under his heated gaze, hardening to points even though the air is warm.
“I have to strip nude for the public,” I tell him.
“Because of your weird game?”
“Yes!”
He shakes his head, not doing anything as I pull my wet panties off and then pry off both my sandals.
When I reach for the lever to open the sliding, side door he hisses, “Stella, I can’t let you do this.”
“I don’t see you stopping me!”
He lunges for me then, pinning me to the floor of his van. “Oh?”
“Please!” I yelp, horrified that I might have both pissed him off and be thwarted at fulfilling my mission. “I need to go out in public! Or I need to blow you!”
His muscular body goes stiff over mine, his eyes blazing down into my face. “What?”
“Or you can jam your cock into my ass,” I it weakly.
I definitely don’t want him to do that, but it’s still an option, and I feel compelled to tell him so.
“This is insane,” he whispers.
“Please, please,” I beg. “I’m an adult—and I want to. Isn’t it my choice?”
I try to make the words pretty, batting my eyelashes and pouting out my mouth, but he cringes away from me, sitting back into a crouch.
So much for being the impulsive uncle, I think to myself bitterly. Or maybe I’m not his type? That thought makes me so sad that I blink at him with wide, watery eyes.
He stares back at me. “You really need to—to do this?”
I nod, reaching to grab the lever of the van’s door when he only frowns, and I get it halfway open when he grabs my arm.
“I need to,” I whine.
“Go out there or blow me?” he asks, his voice strained.
“Yes.”
“There’s no one even out there, Stella. No public. I’ve taken you to my girlfriend’s hundred-acre lot. Why don’t you just give me your phone and let me delete that dumb game?”
“No!” I burst into tears, clutching my purse to my naked chest and hunkering over it protectively.
I’ll absolutely die if he deletes FarmerVilla. Maybe right in front of him from pure heartbreak. The warmth in my mind throbs down into my chest, pulsing frantically, and a single thought blares all through me: Play FarmerVilla to relax!
“Jesus Christ, kid! Fine!” His warm, calloused hand tentatively rubs my shoulder. “Stop crying. You’re an adult. If this is what gets you going—then that’s on you. You want to prance around naked in public? How about at my worksite? The guys there would definitely pay a few bucks to see a hot, teen girl debase herself—if that’s what you’re really into.”
“Really?” I give him a watery smile as he nods at me, his expression twisted.
But the thought of actually ‘prancing around naked’ fills me with anxiety as he climbs back into the driver’s seat and we make our way to his worksite. I don’t actually want to expose myself in public—even if I feel like I desperately need to. Especially where my uncle is going to watch me with all the people he works with (and sees every day). He tells me that at least he’ll be there to make sure I’m not going to get raped, and that he trusts these guys not to get too fresh with me, but that maybe I should consider getting a job at a classy gentleman’s club or something. One with big bouncers.
I don’t have time to explain to him that he’s not understanding the situation at all—and that it’s the game’s choice what I do—because we pull up to a large lot full of white vans and trucks. Out the window I can see men in orange hardhats hammering away at wooden beams or smoothing out fresh, black cement.
I changed my mind, I almost want to tell him, but the warmth pushes me forward, and my hands yank at the sliding, van door before I can stop myself.
“Hi guys!” I call out flirtatiously, practically bouncing out of my uncle’s van.
All of them stop and stare, a few breaking out into whistles or hoots, and one calling out, “Frank, didja bring us some candy?”
Frank charges around the van, grabbing my hand and yanking me close to him. “Looks like we’re doing this—but I’m going to set some ground rules. Stick by me so you don’t get into any extreme situations. I get a cut of what you make for the trouble.”
“You can have all of it,” I whisper back to him, still smiling widely at all the men leering at me. “As an apology.”
A strange, satisfied calmness washes over my brain as I realize that I’m fulfilling the mission I’ve been tasked with. I wonder what would happen if I fulfilled all three missions at once? Would I get extra credit in the game if I blew Frank (since he was the first man I saw) and then got one of these dudes to shove his cock up my ass? My pussy starts to tingle and ache, wetness leaking out my virgin fuckhole, as Frank walks me over to the crew and then explains that they can look all they want for free, but groping is going to cost them.
“She looks too young to be a hooker….” a Hispanic man with a thick accent says.
“My niece is eighteen,” Uncle Frank reassures the men as they all glance at one another. “And she’s here of her own free will and violation. Right, Stella?”
“Yes.” I stop myself from saying ‘sir’, not wanting to freak them all out by thinking that Uncle Frank is making me do things and that he’s groomed me or something.
The warmth in my mind makes me pull my hand out of his so that I can walk around the edge of the group, carefully placing myself out of arm’s reach as I squeeze my large breasts together and skip around playfully. I want them to enjoy the show and see that I’m having fun—even if I’m terrified by what I’m doing.
Fucking bimbo, a cold voice in my mind snarls at me. You should be ashamed of yourself.
But I see the lustful gazes of the men watching me (my tits bouncing up and down, my ass swaying while cunt juice leaks down my thighs), including my Uncle Frank, and a burst of warmth flows all through me: Good sluts love to please men.
A chubby guy with a greying beard digs out his wallet. “Twenty to squeeze her ass and tits?”
My cheeks flush red and I nearly pull further away from them (because I’m not a prostitute!), when a heated thought pops into my head: Good sluts sell themselves for money.
Where the fuck did that one come from?
Uncle Frank looks at me questioningly and I nod at him before I can stop myself, approaching the grinning man with the double chin.
“She’s fucking hot, Franky,” he says with a laugh, handing my uncle the money before reaching out both his big, clammy hands to squeeze my bare tits. “Never seen one so young with such big funbags….”
He’s talking about me like I’m some sort of cow or something. I bite my lip and am horrified when a little moan catches in my throat; hot pleasure lances through me as a complete stranger plays with my tender nipples, tugging and pinching them like he’s trying to milk me.
“Holy shit, she loves it,” a scrawny, buck-toothed man whispers, digging in his jean pockets to pull out a wad of money. “Give you a hundred to finger that wet cunt of hers.”
“Eh, that might be going a little far,” Uncle Frank says, but then his eyes catch on all the crew around him as they frantically count out their money. “I guess if you’re gentle with her. Don’t bruise or damage my niece!”
“Nice!” the scrawny man says, handing my uncle his wad of cash and sidling up to me.
The chubby man lets go of one of my tits to cup my ass, pulling my cheeks apart. “Finger her from behind, Lenny—I’m still getting my money’s worth up here!”
Oh my God, I should stop this, a cold thought nags me.
(No, another thought insists, flaring warmly, because good sluts sell themselves for money. Good sluts let men use them for favors.)
Lenny pushes a knobby finger into my sodden cunt, sliding all the way up to his last knuckle with ease. “She’s soaked boys! Look at her drip!”
I moan sluttily as he wiggles his finger around and then gently adds another. It almost feels like too much, being pinned between two strangers as one stretches out my virgin pussy with his bony fingers and the other uses his ape-like hands to massage my tits and ass.
“Can I lick it?” the Hispanic man asks, shoving a bunch of money at Frank.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the overwhelming, suffocating pleasure, hoping that Frank calls them off. I’ve more than fulfilled my mission, now, I think. A large part of me wants to get away and check on my farm. My purse (and phone) is still in Frank’s van, and I suddenly realize that my game is not going to have any idea that I’ve done more than show off nude in public (since that’s all it could have heard Frank and I agree upon). All this other stuff is probably just extra for nothing, and I squeal as someone’s hot mouth engulfs my throbbing clit.
“Gentle, Alberto!” I hear Frank insist as his Hispanic crewmate licks me in earnest. “Todd, I think you got your twenty bucks worth already….”
“She loves it Frank,” Lenny assures him. “She’s clenching around my fingers like she’s about to cum.”
“Yeah, okay.” Todd softly bounces my tits together in his meaty hands. ““What a good slut though….”
Todd’s words jolt through me like hot electricity. I scream in pleasure as my entire body convulses, my pussy spasming around Lenny’s fingers and my clit throbbing in the wet heat of Alberto’s mouth. Hot bursts of girl-cum spray all down my shaking legs, and I hear my uncle groan loudly, “Holy fucking shit.”
“Wow,” Todd says breathlessly, taking his hands off me. “You’ve got a real squirter here, Franky.”
“I got some of it in my mouth!” Alberto exclaims, grinning.
Lenny jams his soaked fingers harder inside me for a second, then pulls them away. “Told you she likes it….”
“Can we fuck her?” some other man asks.
“No,” Uncle Frank says. “Absolutely not.”
“What if we all pay to jerk off on her then?” another man asks, nudging forward.
Good sluts NEED cum in or on them, my mind whispers, even as I cringe. Good sluts love to please men.
My girl-cum doesn’t seem to count, I notice, as anxiety blooms inside me. I won’t be pleasing all these men if I run off and hide in Uncle Frank’s van, even if that’s what I want to do now. The tenting erections of all the men around me call my eye, and I know that if I abandon them that I will have failed (maybe not my FarmerVilla missions, but my own personal designation in life).
“Stella?” Uncle Frank asks warily.
I nod at him eagerly, knowing that this is what I need to do to be completely fulfilled. “Mmhmm.”
“Pay up, boys!” Frank says. “Two hundred a pop.”
A bunch of them ask if they can go ahead and be ‘good for it’ to which my uncle responds that he trusts they’ll pay out later. I realize, in a haze, that there are at least twenty men surrounding me. Lenny gently pushes me to my knees, freeing his cock first as he begins to stroke it in earnest.
“I want to cum all over that pretty face of yours,” he tells me.
Todd grins. “I’m gonna cum on her tits.”
“I like her pink clit,” Alberto says in his thick drawl. “I’ll paint it white!”
The other men huddle forward, barking off other parts of me that they want to douse with their ejaculate (my hair, my mouth, my taut tummy, the dimples above my round ass).
Uncle Frank stands back and watches, his eyes glued to mine as the men around me stroke themselves in earnest. I give him a seductive wink, wanting to calm the turmoil I see on his face, and then I feel a hot splash against my cheekbone.
“Oh, fuck!” Lenny cries out, trembling.
Several hot gushes of sperm follow, hitting my tits, my ass, my face, as the men around me begin to pop off. I’m soon doused in several loads of semen, my eyes snapping shut as I’m pelted with waterfalls of cum.
“She issa good slut,” Alberto says affectionately, bending down to tap my pussy with his hand.
I scream as his words make ecstasy ribbon through me, and my cunt spasms hot juice, just as Alberto kneels close to spray my clit with his own hot load of cum.
I barely the other grunts and groans of the many men around me, or the warm splashes of their seed hitting me, as I shudder and enter into the golden aftershocks of my climax.
“Don’t tell my wife about this,” one of the men jokes as he wipes his dripping cock off on my face.
“Or mine,” another one agrees.
“It’s our secret, boys,” Frank assures them, his pants tented but still zipped up, and his body tense. “I’m going to head out and get her cleaned up. Cover for me?”
There is a hum of assent as he drags me to my feet, my body still shaking with pleasure. My mind feels very far away, like a balloon drifting among the clouds. I’m not even quite sure where I am. I’m very warm and wet all over—inside and out. And then somehow I’m in my uncle’s van, being dried off with one of his spare work shirts.
“They got you good kiddo. Did you really enjoy that?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Your dumb game give you bonus points or whatever for being my work crew’s cumrag?”
I reach for my purse as he continues to wipe splooge off of me, digging out my phone eagerly.
“CONGRATULATIONS ON UPGRADING YOUR 5-STAR DAPPLED GREY MARE TO A 6-STAR!” the game tells me.
She prances prettily, her red stars gleaming bright, and a burst of warm joy expands in my chest. I’ve done well. All my anxiety has disappeared. I don’t even care about all the trouble I got myself into, just slumping into a relaxed reclining position and getting lost in my game. Uncle Frank grunts as he gives up on trying to clean me, leaving me to play as he returns to the driver’s seat.
“My girlfriend is out of town,” he tells me, “I’m taking you to her house to get showered. We can wash your filthy clothes there.”
“Are you mad at me?” I ask him absently, nearly lost in tending to my animals and crops.
“Well . . . you made me a lot of money today, kid—so I guess not. Worried maybe. I don’t think they are going to let you finish out high school. Your dad is going to be pissed.”
“I could get my GED….”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
He says some other stuff to me, but I don’t listen as I notice a new button in my game that says: “LEARN HOW TO BREED YOUR ANIMALS”. It wants me to watch a video when I click on it, so I rudely dig out my headphones from my backpack, plugging them in and putting them on, all the while Frank tries to explain something or other.
The video starts out normally, telling me that breeding animals is a simple function of putting two of the same type of animal, of opposite sexes, into a ‘breeding pen’. I watch as a simulation plays out of a farmer pairing two goats in a circular pen, where a cluster of red hearts forms over the animals’ heads and there is a luck coin flipped. My heart sinks as the simulation fails the first time.
“Sometimes breeding fails,” a cheerful voice tells me. “But you can always try again, every twenty-four hours!”
Wow, that seems like a long time, my mind whirs. Definitely want to get lucky and succeed right away!
There’s another video that explains how to get a breeding pen, and I click on it eagerly. White noise floods my ears, my mind turning to hot mush as staticky voices fill my ears: Good sluts are simple and dumb. Good sluts don’t need an education. Good sluts sell themselves for money.
“Stella!” my uncle yells, ripping my headphones off of me. “We’re here. Why are you masturbating?”
I blink at him in surprise, my muzzy mind slow to take in his shocked face. “I don’t know.”
Arousal courses through my wet pussy and aches longingly as I pull my hand away. What was I just doing? Watching a video about breeding animals, right? Why do I feel so horned up again?
“Come on kid, stop playing that game. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He gathers up my clothes and stuff, taking my headphones and phone from me, and leads me into his girlfriend’s ranch house. I can’t help but notice that he’s still hard, the bulge of his cock running down the side of one pant leg, but he points me to the bathroom and says, “Go take a shower. I’ll throw your clothes in the laundry.”
“Thank you, Uncle Frank,” I say softly, hating how he won’t even look at me.
I must have upset him somehow, and I’m terrified he’s going to do something to my phone or my game, but I know better than to fight with him over it right now. It’s best if I just listen to him (because girls should listen to men—especially ones older and wiser than them) and go take a shower as he told me to.
A warm part of my mind tells me to leave the bathroom door open as I start the shower. A warmer part of my mind tells me to leave the shower doors open so that he might catch a glimpse of me washing myself.
“Don’t take too long!” he calls out.
I scrub myself down with the luxuriously scented soaps and shampoos (his girlfriend seems to have a ton of them), washing my grimy hair and then moving on to my curvy body. The cum is hard to rinse completely away, gelling up and pilling as I rub myself down. My large tits feel slick and heavy in my hands. My pussy feels overly wet and slimy. I moan as I massage myself all over, my mind blaring: good sluts play with their pussies. Good sluts make themselves cum.
Uncle Frank interrupted me trying to cum earlier in his van, and my cunt seems to crave the attention, so I pay extra attention to it, rubbing my clit and fingering out my slick hole—all the while telling myself that I’m just doing a thorough job of cleaning it.
“I’m a good slut,” I tell myself, closing my eyes as the pleasure builds and builds. “Good sluts play with their pussies. Good sluts make themselves cum.”
I squeal as I slip two fingers inside my tender hole, ing how Lenny’s knobby digits felt inside me, and climax softly, my cunt fluttering and squeezing in gentle pulses.
“Jesus, Stella,” Uncle Frank says from the doorway. “You really know how to test a man, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” I gasp, my face reddening.
But a large part of me is thrilled that he saw me get off, and a larger part of me is entirely too happy that his cock is still bulging in his jeans—obviously interested in the little show I’ve just put on for him.
“Those videos you sent me were torture, you know,” he whispers, watching me as I get out of the shower and towel myself off. “An uncle shouldn’t see his niece compromised like that.”
“Maybe I liked that you saw me like that,” I say flirtatiously, batting my eyelashes.
“Watching you with my crew was torture, too.”
I feel him edging himself towards a cliff, a breaking point where we can never return from; it makes the warmth inside me turn into a blazing heat. “Why didn’t you in?”
“I wanted to,” he rasps, quickly setting my purse and headphones down on the counter, before spinning away. “Your clothes will be done within the hour.”
Shit, I scared him away, I think as I watch him leave.
But I don’t know why I care. Doing stuff with him now wouldn’t get me anything in the game. A horrible fear pops up that there might not even be a game to return to—and so I grab my phone to make sure he hasn’t messed with anything, and then hear him call out, “I tried to delete the fucking thing, but it won’t uninstall!”
“Thank God,” I whisper to myself, opening up my sacred FarmerVilla application.
“THANK YOU FOR WATCHING THE BREEDING ANIMALS’ TUTORIAL!” the game tells me. “TO CLAIM YOUR BREEDING PEN, PLEASE CLICK HERE.”
I click the golden button that pops up immediately, my heart thumping in anticipation.
“SORRY. THIS IS A PAID FEATURE ONLY.”
“You son of a bitch,” I whine.
“FREE MUST TWO VIDEOS. FULFILL AND RECORD THE FOLLOWING UNFILLED PROMPTS—”
My pulse skyrockets as I read: “BLOW THE NEXT MAN YOU SEE. TAKE A COCK UP YOUR ASS.”
Well, that settles it then. Uncle Frank is going to have to help me. I know that he doesn’t want to, on some level at least (especially since it will mean cheating on his girlfriend), but I also know that I have no choice but to convince him to. It’s imperative that I do this for my farm. He’s already clearly aroused by me—so how hard can getting him to fulfill these missions with me really be?
* * *