If Margaret had any say in the matter, she’d never have turned 30. It wasn’t the number as such, it was the way her breasts were beginning to sag, and how she had to work harder at the gym to keep off the little pooch at her waist.

Of course there were ways, corsets were her new best friend at the local Rocky Horror Picture Show. And the guys and girls faces still lit up when she strutted her stuff. But time, tide and formations wait for no man or women. She could no longer ride on her looks alone, she needed an edge.

Having identified the problem she felt no particular urge to solve it. A smart girl, she hadn’t made her way in the business world entirely on looks alone, she probably could come up with a solution. But she understood the secret of leadership was the ability to delegate. Hence she called her friend Jon.

“Hey Jon. It’s me again, Margaret” she said.

“Hey sweetness, what can I do you for?”

“Depends, how good are you at solving problems?” she asked him.

“Depends on my motivation” he replied.

“Well, I’m sitting here in a white leather corset, with white satin gloves and white thigh high boots that look so good against my brown skin it’s almost criminal” she said casually.

She listened as Jon sucked in a breath and strove to sound casual.

“Are you still there?” she asked.

“Gaaahhh” he said.

“So I’ve got your attention then?”

“Yeaah, you could say that.”

“Good. You could be here, laying next to me, having me hold your head to my breasts and sucking on them. All you have to do is solve a little problem for me. Are you motivated yet?”

“Highly” he assured her.

“Great. Here’s my problem, I’m getting older.”

“What?!”

“I’m getting older.”

“So’s everyone, you want me to cure aging. No problem. And tomorrow I’ll work on fucking world hunger.”

“I thought you were working on fucking me.”

“Not if I have to cure aging to do it.”

“Relax, you don’t have to cure aging. I just need an edge.”

“An edge?”

”Stop repeating me or I’ll lose faith you’re a genius.”

”I am, I’ve got the Mensa membership card to prove it.”

“You’re lucky you do, you’re not going to get anywhere on your looks.”

“I’m in shape” he protested.

“But you’re not cute. Strong yes, cute no.”

“You said I was cute once.”

”I said you were cute like a puppy, it’s a different kind of cute.”

“I hate you.”

“Think about my boots and you’ll change your mind.”

“You never could spell” he chided her.

That won him a chuckle. “What kind of edge” he asked her.

“Any kind that’ll work. A special perfume, a computer virus, anything that’ll let me wrap a man around my finger, or a girl for that matter.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

“Wait too long and I’ll find someone else to appreciate this outfit.”

“You’re cruel” he told her.

“You know what Nick Lowe said don’t you darling?”

“All men are liars?” he asked.

“Well that’s true, but not what I was thinking of. About how you have to be cruel to be kind.”

“Enough of you. I’ve got to think about this.”

“Have fun. I’ll be waiting, for a little while anyway.”

“Bitch.”

Jon considered the problem. He’d dated Margaret for about a year, off and on. She was very cute, under five feet tall with bits in all the right places. He remembered her in a skin tight vinyl cat suit grinding her ass against him. She liked outfits.

Trying to retrieve blood for his brain he concentrated less on her and more on the problem. She was getting older. Breasts beginning to sag, eyes beginning to wrinkle and unwanted hair increasing, all a normal part of life. But the beginning of the end for free drinks and easy promotions.

There were the obvious solutions, working out, plastic surgery or underwire. But he wasn’t going to win himself any quality time with her ‘boots’ that way. Of course there was his private fetish, hypnosis and mind control. The problem was, the eternal problem, there’s no way to make hypnosis work in the real world. Even his favourite stories struggled with this.

On the other hand beautiful women got men to do things they didn’t want to do all the time, even when the guy knew he wasn’t going to get sex out of it. So maybe it wasn’t that unrealistic that people could be controlled against their will. It was just a matter of making them believe it was in their interest.

He could feel it, like analyzing a chess problem or a mathematical equation, before the answer there was the feeling of being on the right path, asking the right questions. And this was it. Hypnosis would be the answer she was looking for, the problem was how to make it work.

He knocked on her door, hoping he wouldn’t find her in bed with someone else. She answered the door wearing the outfit she’d described on the phone.

“Close your mouth honey, it’s not a very attractive look for you.”

“Gaaah” he said.

“I know. You told me over the phone. You like then?”

“I like. Very much. A lot”

“Good. Then come here and tell me what you’ve got.”

She pulled him down to kneel next to her on the chair, cradling his head to the dragon tattoo on her breast.

“Hypnosis” he told her enthusiastically.

She shoved him away from her. “I said I wanted a solution for men, not to fulfill you’re depraved fantasies.”

“No, this is a solution.” He protested.

“How so?” she asked, regarding him skeptically.

“What does everybody want?” he asked her.

“Sex” she said.

“No. Everybody wants to be admired. To be better than they are.”

“How does that help me.”

“You’re about to become a life consultant.”

“You’re babbling. Do you really see me as the Doctor Phil type, or worse Oprah?”

“No. Look, you see Margaret I really admire you” he said looking up and meeting her deep brown eyes. “The way you’re always on the go, working so hard all day and partying every night.”

She nodded, warming at the compliment. He does have nice eyes she thought. Pretty and blue.

“And the way everybody likes you, and all the guys want you. Even the girls. I’ve gotten more girls from your discards than I have on my own. Always a new guy or girl, sometimes more than one in a night. I just wish you could find time to relax.”

She nodded. It was tough being as busy as she was.

“I mean, you push yourself so hard. If only you could find time to relax, to stop pushing yourself and just feel good. To just let yourself feet good. If you could only let yourself relax I know you’d feel so good.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes heavy lidded. She should relax. Let herself feel good. She deserved it. Her eyes drifted closed.

The sound of snapping fingers jolted her awake. She glared at Jon. “What’s the big idea? I was enjoying a nap.”

“I’m sorry” he said, not sounding particularly apologetic. “I guess I won’t get to see you naked now.”

“Well I don’t know about that” she said. Suddenly she felt really horny. There was a throbbing in her twat that was making it awfully hard to concentrate. She wanted to be touched and fucked and she wanted it now.

She threw her arms around Jon’s neck and kissed him hard. She pressed her body tight against him, rubbing herself against his cock through his jeans. With practiced hands she unzipped his fly and released him. Sliding aside her skirt she thrust him inside her.

“MMMmmm” she said. “That feels better.” The throbbing began to subside and her thoughts began to clear.

She was being fucked against the wall, her legs wrapped around Jon’s waist while his hands cupped her ass and lifted her off the ground when she realized he’d hypnotized her.

WHACK was the sound as she slapped him across the face.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked her.

“Hell no” she said. “But once I climax I’m gonna kill you.”

“Fair enough” he said.

They continued fucking each other hard for another half hour. Damp with sweat and exhausted they fell onto her bed.

“How did you do that?” she wanted to know.

“I started thinking, the best way to get what you want is to tell people what they want to hear. See how successful it was in the elections?”

“I did notice that.”

“Even if people know you’re lying, they’ll believe it if it’s what they want to hear. You were so busy eating up all those compliments you went right along with my suggestions to relax.”

“But how does that help me?”

“You’re going to go into the side business of recreational therapy. You’re going to help people feel better about themselves and aquire lots of new very willing to please sex partners. And you’ll be getting paid for it. Till you get really good and can start conditioning people you just meet in passing. Also this should help.” He handed her a necklace, an ameythyst pendant on a silver chain.

“Oh c’mon, this is too, too cliché.”

“I’ve made some improvements” he said and passed her a garage opener looking device.

“You press that” he continued “ and it emits a signal that causes the crystal to resonate, making it flash every few seconds. It’s very subtle, but the regular flash will help catch people’s eyes and lull them into a susceptible state.”

“Wow” she said. “You are a genius.”

“That’s the rumor.”

“You deserve a reward.” So saying she mounted him and began making slow circles with her hips. He gave a low moan of appreciation.

“Does that feel good?” she asked him.

“Oh yes” he said.

“Good.” She leaned over and lifted her breast to his mouth. He sucked on the brown bud of her nipple while she raised herself to the tip of his cock and then slammed herself down, driving it deep inside her, then did it again.

The intense sensation sucked away her breath and pushed her towards orgasm. Jon was lost in sensation, the taste of her nipple between his teeth and the moist warmth wrapped around his dick carrying him away to a place of pure pleasure.

She began to whisper in his ear, a warm, wet sensation that brought him close to climax.

“You feel so good inside me” she told him.

“Uuuuhh” he moaned.

“I want to have you inside me forever, making you feel good. So good. I want you to know you pleased me. That pleasing me is feeling good. I want you to love pleasing me. You do don’t you.”

“Yes” he moaned.

“Good. So just relax. Let me do everything. Everything feels right when you let me take control.” She ground herself against him for emphasis.

“Yes” he shouted.

Climax wracked his body. Cum spurted inside her as his body shuddered against her. She held his head to her breast as the orgasm rode him. When he fell limply back against the pillow she continued whispering in his ear. His eyes closed gently and a contented, absent smile formed on his lips.

‘He’s mine’ she thought to herself. ‘More mine than he’s ever been.’ She wasn’t actually planning on making him a slave or anything, she liked Jon. Just like he hadn’t done anything really bad to her, just gave her a slight bout of nymphomania. They needed each other. It was hard for egomaniacs like themselves to find friends.