Free Controlling the Girl Next Door (The Magic Remote Book 1) by Nadia Nightside Page A

adored me for some time now.”
    There was a cut in the tape. Static filled the screen for a moment.
    Jared found his cock was hard as a rock. Was he holding . . . did he have some kind of mind control device in his hands right now? Was that what the crown and the clicker were?
    The picture came back. The woman had her shirt off now, her fingers shoved deep inside her pussy. Her other hand was massaging her tits through her skimpy, lacy bra.
    “You are my slave.”
    “I am your slave,” said the woman, pouting hotly and pouring herself into the words.
    It wasn't blankness on the woman's mind, Jared realized. It was zeal . She so firmly believed everything she heard that no other thoughts could fill her head.
    Jared felt his cock pushing up through his shorts. He kneaded his cock through the thin material, rewinding the tape.
    “I am your slave,” the woman breathed.
    He rewound it over and over.
    “I am your slave,” the woman breathed again. Hotter and hotter each time.
    His pants slipped around his ankles. His shaft already slick and hard with precum. How was he supposed to do anything else? He paused the video on her blank face, small bits of drool sliding down from her lips.
    His arm pumped furiously as he jacked his hand up and down his cock. Above him, the air-conditioner switched on. His seven-inch shaft was completely slick, and jacking off seemed almost an afterthought to the feeling of the air pressing in so forcefully on his wet, sensitive shaft.
    The woman on the screen was so hot. She was so controlled. This was so surreal. He had to come. He had to. He couldn't help it. She couldn't help but obey and he couldn't help but come.
    Groaning, he spurted out onto his hand, the thick white cum filling up his palm quickly. He struggled to shift around, grabbing a tissue off his nightstand before laying back on his bed. It took him a moment to clean everything, to let his thoughts clear.
    Okay.
    Okay.
    Now he could concentrate. He needed to get himself under control.
    Control. That was the word of the day, wasn't it? At the foot of his bed was a device that would allow him to control whoever he wanted, fuck whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted . . .
    No. Himself. He needed to stay under control.
    He needed, no matter what, not to run wild with this device and put every girl he could find into a deep, everlasting trance that would forever bind her to his cock.
    Oh god. He was getting hard again. He sat up on the bed, putting his shorts back on and staring down at the device, at the image of the controlled woman still on his television screen.
    He couldn't do anything like that.
    That was immoral, to do something like that. To take some hot babe like Mrs. Russell across the street, and fuck up her whole mind into thinking he was her total god, dominating every thought she had for the rest of her life to think only of his greatness and his cock.
    Fuck.
    Okay.
    He needed to get someone else here, that was the solution.
    Contemplative, he stepped over to his bedroom window. Outside, he could see Carmen Russell sunbathing her sumptuously hot body in her white, pink-striped bikini. Mrs. Russell's stepdaughter.
    He had always really like that outfit. She was flat out gorgeous, just like her stepmother.
    Light brown hair, viciously long legs, wonderful breasts that were just the right size to spill out of a man's hands, and the kind of face that he imagined ancient Valkyries were supposed to have. Severely sexy, with an elegant, regal turn to her nose, full lips, and that delicious kind of distinction to her chin and jaw that models had.
    She had modeled, he knew. Little vanity shots for  local businesses. He had jerked off to them more than once. Anybody she talked to knew she had big aspirations of going big time. Probably she could make it, too.
    Maybe he could convince her to come and take a look at this tape, give him a second opinion?
    Yeah, sure, he told himself. That's all he wanted from her. A second opinion.
    *