Mesmerizing the Cheerleaders (Magical Mesmerism)

“Explain to me again why we are having this meeting? Aren’t
you an alumni?”

“Yes, Miss Fellows. That’s right.”

The young man, Daniel, leaned
forward, grabbing a photo off her desk. He was of average height, average
build, his hair short and brown and his eyes distant brown. He wore jeans and a
blue hoodie. To be frank, he was rather beneath having a conversation with
Joanna Fellows, but as the cheerleading coach of Lovely Valley High School, she
had to deal with a great number of undesirables. Constantly, men were attacking
her solitude and personal space, trying just to have one more second of her
lovely face or firm, delicious figure. As a ridiculously beautiful brunette
thirty year-old, Joanna was rather used to it.

“Is that your husband? Your kids?”

A frown formed on her her
lovely face. “Um, yes. But I don’t see—”

“How long you been married? Your kid looks like, what, two
years old?”

“Three. And that’s how long we’ve been married, but I don’t
see—”

“That’s good. I’m not really about older women, but you’re
so gorgeous, I figured what the hell, you know? You only live once. It’d be
weird if your kid was older, though. I don’t know why, exactly, but I know
that’s true. So I’m glad she’s young, because you are really just incredibly
hot.” He smiled. “You know you’re gorgeous, don’t you?”

There was such a stream of
vileness, such outright contempt for her station pouring from this boy, that
Joanna hardly knew where to begin.

As such, she could only really
stammer out a response. “I—you see, now see here, I don’t—what do you mean, I
know I’m—”

She shook her head. This boy
was very confusing and right away. He had just stormed into her office and sat
down, barely even saying who he was. That was unusual at any time, but
especially on a Saturday practice, when practically no one else was at school.

Joanna purposefully asked for
Saturday practices for the lack of distractions—so many of her girls were
rather beautiful, and so boys from all over the school would skip class to come
and watch her team work out. And probably too, of course, to watch Joanna join
in when she had to.

Joanna, of course,
did
know
she was gorgeous. Joanna was tall, in incredible shape from her many years of
cheerleading semi-professionally and then coaching, with beautiful breasts that
enabled her to convince most men of anything she wanted to convince them of.
Today, wearing her tight spandex coaching shorts and tighter cleavage-baring
button-up jacket revealing the lovely deep line of her bountiful bosom, should
have been a banner day for getting what she wanted from every man.

Except for this young brat, of
course.

Her looks were how she landed
her super hunk husband, Jerry, who ran the town’s only used car lot. He was
rich, and Joanna loved spending his wealth and being the recipient of it. She
had three fur coats, her own master bathroom, and a walk-in closet the size of
a barn. Now that she had a child with him, she had really locked him in. He
loved their little girl, and treated her like a princess, surpassed only by
Joanna herself.

“Look, toots, you don’t gotta be humble with me. I think
you’re smoking hot. It’s no wonder you’re a cheerleading coach.”

This really raised her ire.
“I-I-I am the
cheerleading
director
because I cheered all through college and won
state
awards
. It has nothing at all to do with my appearance or my figure or my
breasts
—”

“Whoa, hey,” he held up his hands. “I didn’t say anything
about your tits. Though they are really nice. They real?”

“Of course they’re real!”

She felt stupid for giving him
the reason to focus on her tits like that. But all the time, men thought she
was a cheerleader just because she had big, firm, delicious breasts. In truth,
they were more of a hindrance to her career than anything else. It was
difficult enough doing all the back flips and twirls required for cheerleading
without an extra ten pounds on your chest.

She stood up, pointing at the
door. Her tits bounced gracefully with the movement. “I really must insist that
you leave. Now. You have far outworn your welcome, young man.”

Joanna felt she had been quite forceful. She felt like he must have really
heard her, that there was to be no doubt what she wanted and that he would
acquiesce.

All the same, he remained
seated.

“Nah,” he said, waving a hand. “When does practice start, by
the way?”

“What does that matter? Leave!” She pointed again, jabbing
toward the door.

“It matters because I’m waiting for my girl Valerie. I
really, really want to see her. But it’s fine that I saw you first, I guess.
It’s just I been soft on her for the longest time. We grew up across the street
from each other. She’s really, damned pretty. I think she’s only gotten
prettier as the years have gone on, and now other guys have noticed, and I
think my chances with her have been drying up, sort of. I’ve never been really
good at communicating what I want, though. Lately, though, I got all kinds of
confidence. Your tits look amazing in that tiny little jacket, by the away. Do
you catch a lot of guys staring at you?”

Of course, she did. But that
wasn’t the issue.

“Leave!” Joanna’s voice was reaching the very top of her
speaking tone, bordering on screaming.

“No? Didn’t I already tell you no? You gotta listen, babe.
It’s gonna be very important that you know how to listen to me in a few
seconds.”

He reached into his hoodie
pocket, pulling out a gold pocket watch.

“I’m calling school security.”

“All right, all right, just hold on a second.” He was
twirling dials on the watch.

Joanna had picked up the
phone, and was searching her desk for the number. The watch started to glow.
“W-what is that?” she asked.

“Oh, this?” Daniel held up the watch. “This is my magic
watch. A new friend of mine gave it to me after I helped him fix his car on the
side of the road. I’m good with my hands like that. He said he’d been wanting
to give it someone who was basically decent. I guess...” Daniel smiled. “I guess
I am a little decent. I’m only going to enslave you for sex. Nothing really
nasty, though I could make you do anything at all. This watch, it only works on
one person at a time, but there’s a loophole around that he told me about.”

That was it. She was going to
slap him. Joanna stood up and walked around the desk. She heard a low, odd
humming sound from the watch as she made the turn, and as she turned on him her
legs gave out in instant orgasm, every last bit of her mind melting into the
background.

* *
* * *

“O
h god, Monica, I’m so sorry.”

Lovely, slim Lindsay bent over
trying to help the busty brunette up onto her feet. Monica shoved her back, and
the pretty girl banged her head against a nearby locker.

“Don’t
touch
me, you idiot cow. Maybe if you weren’t such a fattie, it
would be easier to not knock into your betters.”

Monica stormed off, rather
enjoying the tears that had started to brim in Lindsay’s eyes from the
impromptu humiliation. The stunning eighteen year-old would have been able to
do much better if she’d had a little more time, but Lindsay jostling into
Monica the moment that Monica entered the locker room had caught her off guard.

Calling Lindsay a cow, or even
slightly overweight, as about as far as an exaggeration as someone could make
about another human being. She was incredibly thin, almost too thin to be cute
if it weren’t for her gorgeously styled blond hair and her beautiful face.

Most every girl on the
cheerleading team was just as lovely as Lindsay if not moreso. But Monica knew
that if Lindsay or any of the other girls had even a shred of self-esteem, then
they would be able to challenge Monica’s spot as Queen Bee, and the sveltely
curved young beauty just couldn’t let that happen.

So, three years ago, when she
signed up for the cheerleading squad, Monica started a private war against the
egos of the rest of the squad. With Lindsay, this meant initiating a long
campaign of digs against Lindsay’s weight, who was at a perfectly healthy size
at the time. It was fairly obvious that Lindsay’s eating disorder and
subsequent severe weight loss were a direct result of Monica’s constant
potshots.

Good, thought Monica, tossing
her hair back and holding her nose high as she approached her locker, set aside
from all the other girls—as was the cheerleading captain’s privilege. Other
girls deserved to hate themselves when she was around. Monica was better, and
deserved to be recognized as such. She didn’t care how other girls learned
their place, so long as they did.

For the longest time now,
Monica had loathed most other girls. As far as she was concerned, they were in
her way.

Pulling out her practice
uniform from her locker, she reflected on how she especially loathed the new girl,
Valerie. Not only was Valerie’s beauty homegrown and natural and pure, it was
rather more striking than Monica’s own if one was paying close enough
attention. Monica was your classic beautiful brunette, and alone in a room with
a man, she was sure she could make him do anything she wanted.

But Valerie was the kind of
beauty that could make a man
think
anything she wanted. Green-eyed, blonde, with curves that
went on all day and legs that didn’t know the definition of “stop,” there was
not a fleck of a flaw on Valerie’s angelic figure or face. Her green eyes in
particular made Monica green with envy. And so, Monica hated her. Just looking
at Valerie, you knew she was the type to be gorgeous long into her fifties and
sixties.

Monica knew she was beautiful,
knew she was desirable, but she also knew that had quite a lot to do with her
youth. Once she got old enough, unless she had a man firmly manipulated to her
needs, she wouldn’t be going anywhere in this life.

Her mother had been the
prettiest girl at Lovely Valley High School. Three years ago, Monica’s sister
Laura had been the prettiest girl at Lovely Valley High School. And ever since
Monica’s sister had gone off to college to conquer a man and take him as her
prize-winning husband, Monica had made it her life’s mission to be the sexiest,
hottest, most wanted girl at school in her mother and sister’s place.

It wasn’t that hard. Monica
was perfectly beautiful. With her dark hair, slim body toned from years of
cheerleading, and beautiful face, she broke hearts in every room she walked in.
Boys or girls—she didn’t discriminate. Most of the girls in the locker room
right now probably had some sick, twisted lust/hate relationship with Monica.
She took enormous pleasure in the thought that if any of them had lesbian
fantasies, they were chiefly concerned with her tight ass and the way it carved
into her hot little spandex shorts. She liked it that way—it kept them
off-balance and therefore easier to intimidate and manipulate.

Valerie didn’t have enough
exposure with the rest of the girls to work up that kind of obsession yet.

Today, Monica’s body looked
terrific in her tight, spandex practice uniform. The school’s colors were gold
and blue, so her shorts were bright blue, tight and effortlessly showing off the
amazing curve of her tightly toned ass. Her abs, a perfect combination of
smoothness and tautness, weren’t covered at all by the tiny gold
cleavage-baring top, with its short sleeves and fun little blue stripes. She
put her long hair back in a thick ponytail, ready to work. When Monica showed
up to practice, she showed up to show everyone else up.

The PA system dinged.

“Monica, come to the Coach’s office.”

That was odd. Coach Fellows
almost never used the PA. Usually, she just shouted from her door.

Not thinking too much of it,
she entered the office. Coach Fellows behind her desk with a young man, someone
who Monica recognized remotely. Coach Fellows had a distant, serene smile on
her face. Even though she was looking directly at Monica, the beautiful young
cheerleader got the distinct impression that her coach wasn’t all there. Maybe
it was drugs?

And why was this man sitting
in the coach’s chair?

“Have a seat, Mon-ic-aa.” Coach Fellows’s voice was
sing-songy, tinged with bliss.

Yes, drugs. It had to be
drugs. Still though, the coach was in charge.

“Yes, Coach,” said Monica, sitting down in front of the desk
and crossing her legs.

She didn’t spare a second
glance to the man in the room. A boy, really, barely worth her time. She only
dated college guys, and even then, just seniors.

“Please,” said the buxom blonde. “Call me Joanna.”

“O...kaaay?”

That was a near-taboo. The
lovely cheerleading coach had insisted time and time again that she be referred
to
only
as
Coach, or Coach Fellows. Any attempts to call her something different result in
marathons of push-ups.

Meanwhile, the man behind the
desk was just staring at Monica, a small smile on his face. He would been maybe
marginally attractive, in an average sort of way, if Monica’s standards weren’t
so justifiably sky high. Not just anyone could be allowed to be near her.

“You’re an incredibly beautiful young lady, Monica,” the
Coach said breathily. “I’m sure you know this already.”

“Oh, I don’t like to make a big deal about it.”

The man laughed. “Please. Don’t
start lying already.”

“Excuse me?” said Monica.

He leaned forward. “You make a
bigger deal out of your looks than anybody on this planet, I think. You are
nothing but your looks, sweetheart. You might as well own up to it.”

Joanna, next to the man, moaned
out an affirmative. “Own up to it,” she whispered slowly, hotly. Her tongue
lavished over every word. “Might as well.”