Uncle’s Hypnosis Ring 2
* * *This can’t be happening…. I nearly trip as I walk down the long aisle—in my beautiful, white wedding dress—and pass by Uncle Roderick. Why the fuck is he here? My blood boils because I deliberately lost his invitation after what he did to me. Everything that looked so enchanting to me moments before suddenly takes on an ugly, demented hue. My fiancé suddenly seems too stiff and awkward, staring at me from his place at the pulpit, in a black tux that looks stupid on his large frame. The pastor’s wrinkled face seems like it’s decaying right off of him. Everyone that surrounds me looks bored, their smiles plastic and forced—all except my weasel-faced uncle, with his smug smirk and dancing black eyes. Soulless, they are, like he’s actually a demon sent to terrorize me.
I stumble the rest of the way to my soon-to-be-husband, realizing that even though I’d vowed never to think about what happened to me, it’s pretty much always lingering in the back of my mind. Less than three weeks ago, my uncle had somehow addled my brain and then aggressively fucked me in his jewelry shop (out in the open against a display case, all because I couldn’t afford a diamond ring). The event made me colder and more frigid with poor Caleb, although I told him that I just wanted us to be more careful until after we officially tied the knot. Potential consequences made me bump up our wedding date, just incase the sperm my uncle flooded my womb with turns into a baby. It’s also caused me to be sick with insomnia, because in my dreams I can hear Uncle Roderick’s chilling commands, directing me to do the filthiest things, making me enjoy it, and I re-live the powerlessness of being used as his living sex doll.
The next hour is one big blur as I get through our nuptials, pick at my food, dance half-heartedly, and pretend to be merry—but all the while I’m tracking Uncle Roderick’s every movement. I can’t help but be obsessed over his audacity to show his face here, and I can’t help but have an anxiety-ridden and lousy time. When I catch sight of Roderick hugging my mother and overhear him congratulating her, (the fucking nerve!), I excuse myself to the restroom, to stop myself from making a scene.
I’m shaking so bad when I rush into a stall that I can barely manage to work the lock, my fingers clumsy as I burn with rage. How fucking dare he? To come to my wedding uninvited after raping me is one thing, but to come and act like a doting relative who is excited about my future is taking everything a step too far. My skin crawls at the thought of him embracing my unknowing and grateful mother (who was absolutely thrilled at the tainted, yet stunning, wedding band that I’m currently wearing).
Every time I look at it I want to cry, and worse, a tiny surge of arousal goes through my core—almost like my insides remember how hard Uncle Roderick made me orgasm while he was making me earn the expensive ring. I hear the bathroom door open and quickly dab at my wet eyes with toilet paper, determined not to let anyone see me crying at my own wedding. That would be a nightmare to explain, and the thought of Caleb’s confused and hurt expression as the word got back to him makes me want to die. I can’t believe that I’m in a position where he might have to raise another man’s baby (because our religious community is against termination methods)—and I hate that I’m trapped into pretending everything is all fine and dandy. Normal. Nothing to see here folks, my mind whirs miserably, just a black-eyed baby who looks nothing like his blue-eyed father!
A light knock on the stall door makes me flinch. “Be out in one moment!” I call with forced cheer.
The wedding party must have noticed my absence and sent one of my aunts or friends to fetch me. I steel myself as I prepare to meet the messenger with a fake smile and hopefully unblemished make-up.
“Shit,” I gasp, my smile falling as I stare into the dark eyes of my smirking uncle.
“Quite rude of you not to invite me after all I’ve done for you,” he says smoothly.
“This is the ladies’ room,” I hiss. “If someone were to come in—”
“I’m not worried about that. I’ll make it quick.”
I huff but say nothing, my blue eyes drifting from his to the bathroom door. At any moment someone might pop in, and how the hell will either of us explain why Roderick’s cornered me in the women’s restroom? I can’t think of any reasonable situation an uncle and niece would be chatting in such a place—and this is way worse than if I’d been caught crying by one of my girlfriends or something.
“I’m insulted that you didn’t invite me.”
“You can’t be serious,” I snap. “It’s really inappropriate—”
“I am serious. You don’t really think your cunt is worth five-thousand dollars, do you?”
My eyes dart back to his, cold fear gripping my throat. Is he changing his mind about gifting the ring to me because I tried to exclude him? How am I going to explain that? My voice shakes as I ask, “Do . . . do you want it back or something?”
“Or something,” he says, giving me a smug smile. “Your ass, in particular.”
“No,” I rasp, freezing.
He lifts his hand and I stupidly look at it, instinctual fear preparing me for a slap, but instead my eyes catch on his horrible ruby ring.
“Look at it,” he commands softly, bringing it closer to my face before I can turn away or shut my eyes. “The funny thing about this ring is that the more I use it on someone, the stronger of an affect it has….”
I mewl helplessly as my pupils dilate and take the glowing redness in, the chill inside me turning to a delectable, seductive heat.
“Really look at it,” he whispers. “You like looking at it.”
“I like looking at it,” I whisper back.
“You liked what I made you do in my shop.”
The warmth grows and expands, and even though I try to fight it, my mouth forms the words, “I liked it.”
“You loved feeling my big cock stretch open your pussy. You came for me.”
“I came for you,” I whisper. “I loved it….”
Why am I saying these things? I want to stop, but the heavy drugged feeling is like a weighted, red blanket that smothers reasonable thought.
“We have to make this fast, Little Miss. We don’t want to get caught by anybody, hmm? Follow me to the bathroom sinks and then you’re going to show me your virgin asshole.”
“Please,” I whimper, the redness in my mind tamped down by a sudden spike of fear, but my legs are already working to follow him as he backs up slowly towards the sink.
“Don’t speak. Be glad that I’m not interested in dumping another load in your young, fertile pussy. I’ll let ole’ Caleb have his shot at putting a bun in you tonight. I’m a fair man.”
Helpless tears spring to my eyes as we reach the sink and I automatically begin to pull the flowing white skirts of my wedding dress up over my hips.
“Besides, I’ve already had it, and I want to use your other forbidden holes. You’re a very sexy young lady, Misty . . . and even a strong, god-fearing man would find it hard to resist your seduction.”
I’m not seducing you, asshole, you’re making me do this! I want to scream, but I can’t, one of my hands pulling down my lacy, white panties (ones I wore for Caleb, but now seem like a mean trick because I’m far from innocent or virginal) and then I move to position myself with my ass to my uncle, bending over the sinks so that my rounded ass-cheeks open and show him what he wants to see.
“God, look at that—it’s all so pink! Like a little rosebud.” He moves his ringed hand to rest by my face as he moves behind me. “You want me to touch it.”
“I want you to touch it,” my mouth forms the words as the redness expands inside my pupils, but I yelp when I feel him poke my anus with one of his thick fingers.
It hurts, but the glowing redness is like a warm weight inside me, holding me in place as he pushes his dry finger to the first knuckle.
“Very tight in here, Little Miss. Going to feel amazing around my cock. Be quite painful if we don’t open you up a bit first though—and I’d like to see you put on another one of your sexy shows.”
I flush at remembering the first sexy show he’d made me perform, where I sat on his metal stool and fingered myself with my legs spread wide so he could see me stretch myself in preparation for him.
He withdraws his finger and squeezes my butt affectionately. “Keep looking at the ring. You’re going to get very aroused now. Your pussy will get very wet and very tingly. Remember how you dripped for me before. Remember how much you loved it when I fucked you raw and came deep inside you….”
I try to block out the memories but they flood my mind, my pussy instantly aching and leaking with excitement. It had felt insanely good when he’d commanded me to cum as he climaxed inside me. A sick part of me wants to experience that again. I nearly crave the high of extreme ecstasy of having my mind addled and having my body used for my uncle’s pleasure.
“You want me to do this to you,” Roderick whispers, smiling as I immediately repeat back, “Yes, I want you to do this to me….”, and then he commands, “Prepare yourself for me. Finger your pussy and then your asshole. Stretch it open like a good slut.”
With my dress trapped around my hips by my position against the long sink, I spread my legs and dip finger after finger inside my soaking pussy. I moan softly as I gather my own fluids, coating one of my hands with slickness. My clit swells and throbs, sending shivers through me. Everything’s so wet. I stuff nearly half of my entire slender hand in my fuckhole, spreading out my fingers and bending forward further to show Roderick (who grunts in appreciation). Doing this makes me feel like such a depraved whore—and I both hate and love the coaxing red warmth pulsing all through me. It nearly blocks out my shame as I pull my hand out of my pussy to start on my ass, and a little concerned thought pops up in my mind, ‘Am I really going to touch myself there?’, but then I’m pushing one wet finger into the tight ring of my anus, gasping at the shock of heat clenching around my finger, and then before I can even get used to the feeling, I push another in with the first, and then another.
“Goes in so easy when wet!” My uncle laughs. “Let’s get this show on the road, my dear—you’ve got me harder than diamonds.” He laughs again at his own stupid joke. “Use your other hand to really gape open your hole for me.”
I don’t think I can fit anymore fingers into my anus, and I want to tell him so, but my mouth won’t work and my other hand starts pulling at my already stretched hole, my legs spreading further as I shove in a fourth finger and begin to fuck myself up the ass with nearly my entire left hand—just like I’d done with my pussy. It feels so weird and uncomfortable, but also strangely good, the bloated-full feeling making my pussy twitch and my clit swell larger in anticipation. All the while my uncle’s red ring hums in my mind: you love this, you little slut, you were made for this….
Breathy pants escape me as I spread myself for him wider and wider, fisting my asshole with my drenched hand and thrusting my butt out in tandem, to really drive myself deep. It’s stretching me so nicely, and my pussy spasms in envy, pleasure coursing through me at the fullness but wishing I had something deep in my cunt, too.
“Oh God, Misty, you’re getting it in so far. Such a good cumslut. Now take out your hand and show me the gape.”
I gasp as I pull my hand free from my clinging anus, the sensation sexual and gross all at once.
My uncle groans and mutters, “God, how lovely—the redness of your beautiful insides. Your ass is going to make the perfect cocksleeve. Tell me how much you want me to fuck your virgin asshole.”
“I want you to fuck my virgin ass,” I whisper, now desperately horny as the blank redness fills me entirely; I feel so empty and nearly insane that I think I might die if he doesn’t fill me up soon. “Please. Please fuck me….”
“It’s going to be quick,” he says, his voice low and breathy as I hear his belt buckle jingle. “Remember how I flooded your tight little fuckhole last time. Really look at the ring and remember. You’re going to feel it….”
A blazing crimson swells in my mind as my uncle pushes his fat cock inside my gaped ass, thrusting so hard that he buries himself to the hilt with little resistance; my insides stretch wetly around him, burning at the sudden intrusion, and my pussy feels that same stretch, as though there’s two cocks inside me instead of one. It’s so intense that for a split second I black out, but the redness pulls me back, thrumming hard through me as Roderick grips one of my hips and starts to pound desperately into me.
“Oh, it’s still so tight,” he whispers, groaning. “Your nubile body is made for pleasure.”
I’m starting to agree with him as my whimpering moans fill the bathroom and echo in my ears. I can’t think of anything but the blinding pleasure of being so full of cock, and don’t even care that I’m bent over in a public bathroom, getting railed by my uncle on my wedding day. I just want to latch onto the blissful high, and the mindless redness that soothes me: this is what you’re made for, this is what you need….
My dark hair comes out of the elegant up-do that my stylist spent hours on, falling around my shoulders as my uncle slams into me. It hurts so good, being used this roughly, that I go mindless again, slipping into a dark black chasm, before I’m yanked out by my uncle’s harsh, “Oh, fuck!”
He grips me hard and pins me to the long sink as his cock pulses in my ass, hot-spurts of cum bathing a place I never imagined I’d be fucked in, and I can feel the memory of his seed coating my cervix, hear his past command, ‘Cum for me you little bitch!’ and then I do. I nearly pass out as my body seizes up and ecstasy rolls through me like a train. Everything feels so wonderful that I never want it to stop. Fluid squirts from me as my pussy and asshole spasms, leaking all down my legs and wetting my tall, white stockings.
The bathroom door rattles and my uncle swiftly pulls away, sending a thick, gush of wetness out of my anus to drip over my pussy-hole and coat my thighs. He tugs down the skirts of my dress and says, “Stand up!”, as he darts into one of the stalls.
The door rattles hard again, and the redness in my mind recedes until I’m nearly choking with fear. My eyes catch on the little metal lock I hadn’t noticed earlier, keeping the door from being able to be opened. Thank fuck he locked it, I find myself thinking—almost as if I’m on my horrible uncle’s side.
“Misty? Are you okay?” my mother calls to me.
Oh my God, my ass feels like it’s on fire. I’m also a sodden mess down there, and I’m fairly sure the whole bathroom reeks of sex. I look into the mirror and see the face of a young woman who has just been thoroughly fucked: cheeks flushed, ample cleavage glistening with sweat and heaving, and with her long hair a tangled mess—half still in a disheveled up-do, and half all around her shoulders.
“I think I drank too much,” I call back, even though I haven’t consumed any alcohol today.
It seems like the best excuse I can think of for looking like absolute shit, but I’m terrified to open the door and face my mother. Terrified that she’ll instantly know my depravity, and find my uncle hiding out in here with me.
“You and me both, child!” My mom breaks out into noisy laughter and my anxiety shifts into a dull hope, especially when she says, “Misty-doll, if I don’t pee right now, I’m going to wet my pants….”
Maybe she’s so drunk that she won’t notice all the weirdness of me looking (and smelling) like this in the bathroom. I feel strung out and shaky as I open the door, each step causing more fluids to trickle out of me, and hope that I’m not noticeably limping from the soreness of my abused holes. Even though Uncle Roderick didn’t touch my pussy, it still feels like he fucked that, too, and my memories of us in the bathroom and of us in his shop seem to be melding together.
My mom pushes past me the instant she notices she can, with a, “Sorry! Have to pee, pee, pee!”
Her words are slurred, and as soon as she locks herself into a stall my uncle comes out of his, to brush past me with a, “Good show. See you later.”
See you never, is what I want to hiss back at him, but I don’t, only thankful when he disappears out of the ladies’ room and leaves me to hastily fix my hair. I listen to my mom whizzing like a racehorse and carefully get a handful of paper towels wet to dab at my leaking holes. Hopefully Caleb won’t notice anything off about me, and I’ll have a chance to shower before he wants to make love tonight.
The thought of getting naked with him makes me sick. He’s such a good guy, and he deserves a girl who doesn’t whore herself out for jewelry or risk pregnancy by getting pummeled raw by her mom’s older brother. Just like you were made for, a little red thought bubbles up within me. I sway as my eyes snap to their reflection in the mirror, terrified by the thought. Why would I ever think that? My uncle and his hellish ring are gone. Forever now, because there’s no possible way he can corner me again (I’ll stay home and be the best housewife Caleb ever imagined, avoiding leaving without him in my presence, if I need to).
No, you won’t…. a little red whisper hums between my ears.
“I will,” I say to myself, through clenched teeth. But naïvely I don’t realize that what’s happening may already be well out of my control, forgetting my uncle’s threat about the ring effects growing stronger with multiple uses, and forgetting that he clearly told me he’d be using my every hole.