The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“S—Shit!” Hunter exclaimed, “Careful! I think you’re pushing it in har—argh! You’re doing this on purpose!”

“Or maybe you’re just overreacting—Yah’ little baby,” Zoey said while picking at the palm of Hunter’s hand lightly with a needle.

“Overreacting? Look at my hand!” Hunter gestured to the area Zoey was prodding at with her needle. “Do you see the red? At this point bleeding out is a foregone conclusion.”

Zoey had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at Hunter’s bullshit; there wasn’t even a speck of blood on his hand yet. “That phrase doesn’t work in this specific situation babe.”

“I—Uh—Okay, I meant ‘was’ a foregone conclusion.”

“Still—doesn’t work. Foregone would imply that—Oh wait; I think I—” Zoey began mumbling to herself. Before looking back up towards her boyfriend. “Oh my god, what’s that behind you!?”

Hunter turned his head to look behind him on instinct “What? I don’t—” His voice halted, as he suddenly stopped himself the moment he realized his mistake. But as he turned his gaze back to Zoey, A surge of pain ran through his body. “Aggggk! Jesus Christ Zoey!”

Zoey, expecting his reaction, had brought her free hand up for the sole purpose of keeping Hunter’s wrist in place on the kitchen table so he wouldn’t accidentally shove the needle in further than it needed to be.

“Okay, now there’s going to be blood.” Zoey admitted, “But not much, stop acting like a toddler. You have a few spines deep in your hand, what did you expect?”

“For you to pull out the thorns on the surface, and leave the deep ones in there?”

“Pffff. Leaving something like that under your skin isn’t healthy in the slightest.”

“Who died and made you a doctor?”

“Well, my mom’s a doctor, so—” Zoey tilted her head unconsciously while gyrating the needle in Hunter’s hand, slowly coaxing the thorn out. “That basically makes me one too.”

“Oh? So that means I’m a doctor as well.” Hunter said with a nod.

“Is your mother one?”

“My mom’s a therapist.”

“Then no, that makes you a therapist, not a doctor.”

“I—Wh—What are you even talking abou—Owww shit!”

“Shhh, it’s almost out.” Zoey hummed, “Besides, I’m just trying to keep your mind off of this, I know how sensitive you are to anything that involves pain.”

“Are you calling me weak?”

“Well, I definitely didn’t start dating you for your muscles.” Her eyes drifted up to Hunter’s exposed arms in his sleeveless tanktop; licking her red lips subconsciously. “If I were looking for muscled men, I’d have gone to prom with some jock instead.”

“Yeah, Th—That’s why we make the perfect team,” Hunter spoke, trying not to let the pain show. “I’m the brains; you’re the brawn.”

“I like to imagine that I’m both, but whatever makes you happy babe. Actually!” Zoey chimed before removing the needle and replacing it with tweezers that she had earlier left on the table. “You’d be glad to know the thorn is gone!” She said as she pulled out the shifty spine. “How’d you even get these things so deep in your hand? Normally they just stick out on the surface.”

“I think a better question would be, why have you placed one of your many cactuses in exactly the same place that I keep my alarm clock?”

“It needed the light, and you sleep next to the window, remember? And I can hit you up with a better question.” Zoey said, placing the tweezers back down on the table. “Why are you even using an alarm clock in twenty-nineteen when you have a fully functional phone?”

“You can’t rely on phones for eve—”

“Can I see your hand again?”

“What?”

“You have two more thorns under your skin we gotta get out.”

Hunter’s face immediately reverted to its distraught look. Sniff “Thi—” Sniff “This is how I die.”

“If you actually end up dying because you thought my cactus was your alarm clock, I’d be extremely impressed. And a bit disappointed—” She admitted, before smiling warmly at him. “Hey, at least we can chit-chat without having to argue over your obsession with eating eggs with the shell.

“Speaking of eggs,” Hunter sighed while extending his arm to his waiting girlfriend. He looked over to his right to see his plate of scrambled eggs on the kitchen counter. “They’re getting cold.”

“Babe, they’re—” Zoey began before getting interrupted by Hunter jumping up to his feet, a panicked look painting his face. “What’s wrong?” She asked with genuine concern.

“It’s 9:15! I’m going to be late for class!” Hunter shouted while rushing to the door, practically jumping into his shoes.

“Shit.” Zoey mumbled, “Don’t forget your bag, it’s in the bedroom.”

“Oh crap! You’re right.” Hunter did a complete one-eighty and dashed past Zoey before rushing back to the door in record time, this time with his backpack in tow.

“You know you don’t have to worry too much you haven’t missed a singl—Mmmpp—” Zoey was interrupted by Hunter coming up and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

After less than a second, or maybe a second; do the specifics really matter? Hunter pulled away. “Yeah, I’ve never been late, and I don’t plan on starting now!” He shouted back to her while heading towards the apartment door. “See yah later babe!”

“Your hand—”

Hunter stopped at the front door and looked back to her. “I’ll stop at the pharmacy on the way back. Would that make you happy?”

“Very.”

“Alrighty! Bye!” Hunter said, turning around and-

SLAM

Leaving Zoey alone in the apartment.

After almost a minute of sitting at the table, deep in thought; doing literally nothing, Zoey sighed to herself and got up off the chair. Walking over towards her bedroom she swiftly plopped herself back in bed.

Typically on Tuesdays, she’d be out on patrol all day waiting for something, anything, to happen. Surprisingly in this flush upscale town, not that many people actually commit crimes; at least not in public that is. The demented streaker from a couple of days ago was the most action she had had in a good while. Which, to her, was a bit disappointing; it’s not that she wants people to break the law, far from it, she just wants more action. She wants to have the feeling that one only gets from helping people. Yeah, she was encouraged to give out tickets just like her partner and every other cop, but handing them out to people simply didn’t feel right; she only found herself assigning tickets to people when she had no other option or if they were actual threats to other people on the road.

Anyhow, that day she had the night shift, while her partner was on day duty. So she had until 6 pm to do... Something. Honestly, she was finding herself to be more excited to go out that night than to stay at home and waste the day doing nothing. She hadn’t done the night shift in a good while. Last time, however, she actually managed to catch and stop a drug deal. And in these parts, that type of stuff doesn’t happen very often. Who knows, maybe she’d catch another group of teens selling dru-

Drugs...

Teens...

Ryan!

Zoey almost literally shot off the bed and grabbed her cellphone.

How could she forget—Hunter! His stupid cactus accident had completely derailed her train of thought.

Last time she spoke with her little brother she made a mental footnote to start investigating his odd behavior. She grew up with the guy; they were as close as butter before. That analogy doesn’t make much sense at all, but whatever. Whenever something was up with him, she was able to tell, and she always tried to help out however she could. She has a natural urge to help people, that’s why she chose to become a police officer, but the fact that Ryan’s her brother—her younger brother at that—the helpful urge she had was triple for him, and everyone else close to her.

It was hard to explain. Zoey didn’t expect him to tell her everything of course, but he was obviously hiding something, and it wasn’t a secret girlfriend or some coming out of the closet thing. If he had a girlfriend, or a new crush, he’d tell her almost instantly; ask for advice and whatnot. Ryan definitely wasn’t gay either, she’d noticed him check her out on occasion. Though, it was only because he was a growing teen, and nothing else.

So then what was he hiding!? The only logical explanation was that he’s doing something drug-related, it wouldn’t hard to assume he might believe that she’d arrest him if he told her.

That’s what was worrying her if he was doing something idiotic like that, she needed to make sure she found out about it before another cop does. Or it might be too late for him. And since Ryan wouldn’t come out with it himself, she’d have to do some detective work of her own. He probably wouldn’t like it, but as long as he was safe; Zoey could live with him being upset with her.

Looking to her Zoey sent her brother a text.

This could end up being considerably entertaining; she hadn’t investigated someone in quite the while. It shouldn’t be too hard, what could he possibly be hiding?

Thursday—Day 10

Tick Tock

I should get up...

Tick Tock

It’s quarter to six...

Tick Tock

I’m going to be late...

Tick Tock

Will I be late?

Tick Tock

I’m not gonna be late...

Tick Tock

I can...

Tick

Rest for...

Tock

Five..more....

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep

“Whuh...” The sharp sound forced its way through my ear canal and into my subconscious; utterly destroying my amazing dream of-

Uh-

Shit-

For the life of me, I can’t remember what I was dreaming about. Does that ever happen to anyone else? Not that I care—but for me; whenever I wake up, my dreams evade my grasp faster than my dick does when Mom busts open my door to ask if I took out the trash; even though she could check herself by looking at the—Wait, I’m getting off track again, aren’t I? Ugh—I’d typically blame my early morning bed-head-brain, but at this point; getting off topic is just second nature for me.

‘Would it bother you to turn that godforsaken audio-machine off!?’

“Mehh—” I groggily mutter out with my face still half smothered in a pillow. “I too timmerrm..d..” The sweet feeling of unconsciousness beginning to wash back over me.

’Oh-ho-ho! You better not fall back to sleep you little shit.’ The 8-ball half yelled with a taste of acid in its voice. ‘Turn off the fucking alarm; It’s been blaring for almost forty minutes now! How can you sleep through this?!’

All of its bothersome babble died down in the wind along with the beeps of my alarm. And it would have stayed that way for the foreseeable future if two particular words didn’t manage to find their way through the barriers of my subconscious.

Forty Minutes

“Forty Minutes!?” I say, shooting my face away from the pillow’s cushiony cushion. “No way—” My voice cuts off as my eyes land on the ticking clock above my bedroom door.

6:30

“Shit.” Shit. Class starts at 7:10 on the dot—Leaving the house immedietly would be my only chance at making it to class on time. But that’s not even reasonably possible; I have to wash up, brush my teeth, gather up the books... It typically takes me a whole hour to get ready! Granted—thirty minutes of the aforementioned hour is spent finding the energy to push myself out of bed.

‘Kid—You’re a complete mess, obviously arriving at that class of yours in time isn’t going to happen.’

“You don’t know that.” I groan, slowly flipping a leg out of bed.

‘Turn off the beeping you little fucking bitch! I’m losing my mind.’

“Why is it bothering you so dam much?”

‘Why is it bothering m—That alarm clock is going beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, FUCKING BEEP.’

Using all of the energy I have left, I manage to slide both legs off of my bed, finally in a sitting position; we’re making progress, team.

“It’s not even an alarm clock, it’s my phone with an alarm clock app—What, you think I’m a caveman?”

‘Oahhh you’re gonna be a dead man if you don’t shut off that horrendous beeping! I hope your mother comes in and beats your fucking ass for missing school.’

“I can still make it—”

‘Shut the fuck up!’

“Oh really? Pfff, fine then—I’ll just leave this thing on.” Now—if I were more awake, I’d definitely think twice before messing with a pissed off mystical being; but as I currently stand, I’m not even half awake. Or a quarter awake, I wouldn’t even say I’m a sixth awake. Maybe an eighth.

‘Fine, fine, fine, fine FUCKING FINE! I’ll give you some advice to get out of school if you turn the damn thing off!’

“Uh—”

‘Is that what you wanted!? Are you proud of yourself? Blackmailing me?’

“Huh?”

It took me a bit to find Mom, though, in hindsight, the fact that she didn’t hear my alarm all this time should’ve narrowed down the places she could be.

I do live in a large house, as I explained before, but massive as it is; sound still travels throughout the place fairly quickly. Especially in the upper levels, but it usually dies out once it hits the expanse that is the family room. Since Mom didn’t hear my alarm’s continuous beeping; her being in the basement should not have been a surprise.

But why is she in the basement? This early in the morning? By this time of day, she should be in her bedroom changing in preparation for work. But nope, she’s in the office across from the exercise room. Wearing, not her work uniform but—Gulp -A nightgown... A simple white nightgown, with a very noticeably deep v-neck; saying she showing off an ample amount of her valley of cleavage would be an understatement. No, she wasn’t showing off ample cleavage; she was showing off AMPLE cleavage. The shape of her breasts is outlined very evidently due in part to the tightness of the fabric, a cute little white-bow tied securely under her hefty breasts manage to keep the clothing against her body. God—I wish I was the one who tied that knot, it’s not even that small of a bowtie, Mom’s tits just cause it to look miniscule in comparison since her breasts are covering half of it from view. Though, to be fair, Mom’s breasts make almost everything look small in comparison; it’s not like the bowtie ever stood much of a chance.

“Huh? Ryan, what’s the matter?” Mom’s voice snapped me out of my aroused stupor. I am so, so very thankful for the Passive-Trigger that prevents her from noticing my boner; ‘cause right now, my member is sticking out like—something that sticks out of—stuff.

“Yeah—Erm, Mom, I was—”

“Wait—” Mom’s blue eyes darted down to her laptop screen for a split second then moved instantly back onto me. “You should be on your way to school right now. What are you—” Her eyes rapidly narrowed as she glanced down to my attire; entirely ignoring the extremely prominent bulge on my crotch even as her gaze shifted directly onto my pajama bottom. Only a legitimately blind person wouldn’t notice such an obvious erection, I’m not even bothering to hide it, it’s pointed directly towards her; note-to-self, I should definitely test out just how much of my member she is willing to ignore. “You missed your alarm again, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Ryan I—” She leans back in her office chair and sighs to herself, jutting out her already exposed breasts even more; it looks as if she’s purposely trying to give her tits air. “I shouldn’t have to be hovering over you. Just—Pull on some jeans and leave, you’ll be late but that’s what you get for—”

“Can I just skip today? I haven’t missed class in a while.”

“Yes. But you have been late multiple times.” Mom said with a tilt of her head.

“But—”

“Furthermore, as long as you’re in this house your father and I expect you to be working on improving your education constantly.” She crossed her arms under her bust, basically pushing her tits up like two prizes on a platter. There’s no way she’s doing this on accident, the Passive-Trigger that has her subconsciously doing sexual acts whenever she notices my boner must be in effect. “You don’t even have a job, so making it to class is the least you can do.”

“Okay but—”

“Ryan, I don’t want to hear it.” Mom raised one hand from under her chest in a silence gesture. While her other hand slowly began scratching her left tit. “I will not allow you to neglect school unless you are ill or have an excellent reason not to.”

“Yeah but I do have a good reason.”

“Oh really?” Mom quirked an eyebrow, and leaned forward; showing off the perfect angle down her already open top. “Alright, go ahead, try and convince me. Because currently, you’re only managing to waste mine and your own time, which definitely isn’t putting me in a good mood.”

“Well—There’s a—a—Um—Erm...” I knew what I was going to say, but this new display of Mom’s meaty valley is managing to sweep away any train of thought I had; it took every ounce of willpower I had not to look directly at her rack, I sadly had to only glance at her cleavage with my peripheral vision. While I could just dive over the desk, go to town on her and use the amnesia trigger afterward. I plan on using that later today for some experiments. It’s always good to have a failsafe.

“Okay, I can’t afford to play around with you. I have a lot of work that needs to be done, get out of here, and don’t make me tell you again.” Mom said sternly, in the same tone of voice that, two weeks ago, would’ve made me bend to her authority.

“You didn’t let me finish, I—”

“I honestly can’t come up with any valid reason for me to permit you to skip class.”

“There’s a new game that came out, and I want to play it.”

“Oh—” Mom paused, the slightly amused expression she gained from watching her son stumble for an excuse slowly vanished and transitioned to one of deep thought. “Well—” Her mind spinning as her natural unchanged thought process is telling her that playing video games is an idiotic excuse; she should scold her son for trying to use games as an excuse to get out of learning. But the Passive-Trigger that forces her to allow me to play games whenever I want is preventing those logical thoughts from entering her conscious mind. “Can’t you play when you get back?” Mom asked after several seconds of internal struggle.

Huh—It seems like the trigger is working—But Mom is struggling to find a way to work around the Passive-Trigger, without even realizing it’s there in the first place. She doesn’t want to allow me to stay home, and so she’s trying her hardest to find a way to bypass the 8-balls commands. Let me give her a small push-

“I would, but—I want to play now, not later.”

“Y—Yes but—”

“And I want to get online before the online servers fill up, so I need to get on now. I really want to play this game Mom, I want to play.”

“I—Uh—” Mom closed her eyes, with a strained look plastered on her face. It looks like she’s still trying to find a way around it, but—“Sure sweety.” Mom quickly said out of the blue. “I guess you can skip class this one time. Have fun.” She gave me a warm smile, before glancing back down to her laptop screen.

Looks like Mom lost that internal struggle of hers; she couldn’t find a way to have me go to school, while also obeying the Passive-Trigger’s command—So her subconscious let go of whatever gripe she had and she obeyed the trigger.

“Thanks, Mom!” I rush over to her side of the desk and give her a tight hug, using this seemingly innocent gesture of a son thanking his mother to wrap my arms around her chest and give them a squeeze.

“No problem hone—” She stopped mid-sentence, with a sickened look forming on her face and she quickly pushed me back. “What the hell was that?!” Mom glared at me in disgust before looking down to my crotch and then her expression changed yet again to one of confusion.

“What’s the matter, Mom?” I ask innocently, knowing full well what’s amiss.

“It’s—” She gulps and licks her bottom lip on instinct, “It’s nothing. Just—Just go play your videogame, or get your butt to school.” Mom says while still staring at my crotch, then with a quick glance up to my face, she shifts her gaze back to her laptop screen. “I do have a lot a work to do at the moment, so please leave. And if I catch you doing something other than playing your game, you’re going to be in a bunch of trouble young man.”

“Okay Mom, thanks!” I say before dashing out of her office.

Heh—She clearly felt my hardened member press into her bare waist when I hugged her; how could she not? But even though she felt it, and knew what to look for, she couldn’t see my stiff dick when it was right before her very eyes. She can feel it, but is unable to view it. Good to know, good to know—But I do believe a few more experiments are in order, and luckily Mom allowed me to stay home today. So I have a lot of time for that.

For once in my life, I actually have a plan. Shocking, is it not? You see, after a bit of digging I figured out the reasons for Mom’s state of dress—or—undress since that nightgown of hers is definitely not covering enough skin to be considered a dress.

And by digging, I mean—Simple guessing.

Apparently, she’s preparing for a long day tomorrow; the school’s hosting three different field trips for the sixth and seventh graders. This week they’re visiting the Hospital for a tour of the facility; and while Mom isn’t going to be the hospital’s assigned tour guide, she is supposed to host a presentation for the students as a way to show them what it would be like to enter the field of medicine. For that very reason, Mom’s higher-ups granted her the day off so she could, in turn, prepare for her presentation.

Though I can’t help but smile to myself when I think about it; Mom had to have a good-ass excuse to get a day off from work. But with me, I just had to ask her if I could play videogames instead of sitting in a classroom for four hours. In a way, we both are in similar boats, the only difference is how we got our days off. Mom had a valid reason, and I had utter bullshit. My day off involves more relaxing fun playing games, while hers consists of a lot more work.

Guess our boats aren’t very similar at all, when I think about it.

With the knowledge of Mom’s current situation seeing her in her nightgown makes a fair bit more sense. Since she doesn’t have to go in for work, what’s the point of getting dressed?! That—I understand—But not the particular nightgown she decided to wear. I’ve seen her in simar attire before, but this is different; the amount of cleavage she had on display was straight up ridiculous. My childlike banter can’t give the sight justice. Just know that with her gigantic tits—which are probably d-cups -she shouldn’t logically be wearing that. It almost reminds me of the outfit she had on two nights ago when she under the Sub-Trigger’s effect. Though—this is in the morning, so being able to actually see correctly makes this entirely different.

The only explanation I can come up with is that the Passive-Trigger which makes her subconsciously reveal more cleavage around me, plus the fact that her usual nightgowns already show off at least a hint of her tits, is maker her have on lingerie that shows an insane amount of tit.

God—What the hell is wrong with me? I’m putting way too much thought into deciphering why my mother’s wearing sexified pajamas.

But anyhow. Let’s go back a couple paragraphs to what I was initially saying.

I have a plan.

Now that I am aware of Mom’s schedule, this gives me the perfect time to strike. Having Mom out of the house all day tomorrow means, yeah I can’t use any big triggers on her, but that’s not a huge deal. What I’m more excited for is the alone time I will have with Mia, never thought I’d see the day where I would actually be happy to be around my younger sister.

But now that Mia’s part of the 8-ball’s game, being alone with Mia is basically the universe handing me a free ticket to go to town on her. That is—if I can find a Sub-Trigger to use on her. Currently, I have no cards with Mia’s name on it, which is very much a problem; it would be quite unfortunate if I end up letting tomorrow’s opportunity pass me by.

And to make sure I do not waste tomorrow, I must prepare for tomorrow! So I guess my day off and Mom’s day off aren’t that different from each other; we’re both spending the day preparing for something big.

“Ryan wha—What are you doing!?”

Mom’s voice echoed it’s way into my ear causing me to jump. And since my head was currently hunched under the dining room table, one shouldn’t be surprised when I hit my dome on the table’s underside. I won’t explain how much it hurt, just trust me; It did.

“Ugghh shit—” I mumbled to myself, raising a hand to my temple before turning back to face Mom.

She fucking pissed me off, I was about to ask her to clean every toilet in the house for no other reason than to get back at her and waste more of her time; when I noticed what she was wearing. It looks as though she still has on her nightgown, but since our earlier chat, she added on a robe. It is tied tightly around her fit waist, and sadly—Completly hides her smooth legs. Curiously, the robe is covering every part of her previously exposed body, with the exception of her bust. Three apparent buttons could easily hide any hint of cleavage, but Mom left that huge window open for all to see; or maybe, for me to see since she is only subconsciously programmed to expose her tits towards me. I really wish I could know what’s going on through her head; I mean, does she even realize-

Snap “Ryan! Hello?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you a question! And—What were you looking at? Do I have something on my—” Mom looks down towards her chest, then her eyes immediately go wide. “Oh god—I—How did I forget—” She quickly blabbered to herself while she began buttoning up the three buttons of her robe.

Ohh, okay. So Mom is able to notice her state of undress when it’s practically pointed out.

“Parden me. That must’ve been awkward for you.” Mom said after closing off the top two buttons, but leaving the third one unbuttoned; and with the mass that is her breasts, a hint of cleavage is still clearly visible. “Anyway, what in the world were you doing under there?”

“I was—Looking for something. Uh—Wh—What are you doing up here?!” I stammer, trying to reflect the same question back onto her.

A bemused look grew on her face, “I’m—Walking around my house? Is there a problem with that?”

“And I’m sticking my head under this table—Is there a problem with that?”

She crossed her arms under her bust and frowned at me, “Yes, there is. If you’re not going to be playing that game of yours, then you better put your shoes on and head over to the school.” As Mom scolded me, with one arm still tucked under her chest, holding the weight up; her other hand shimmied up and began undoing the buttons without her even realizing. “It’s better to get there late than not to show up at all.” She said with a nod as she undid the final button, returning her gown back to its cleavage exposing state.

Dam, she really must want me to go to school; if this videogame Passive-Trigger weren’t in place, I’d have no protection against her.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go back to my game no need to get your hair in a bunch...”

With Mom being her usual bossy self I trudge back to my room. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not too dense enough to realize she wants me to go to school for my own good; I feel like I’ve been giving her too much shit in the past couple of days. I mean, yeah, Mom is a bitch at times, and she definitely does play favorites when it comes to her kids. But I do understand that she just wants the best for me. The only problem is the way she goes about trying to get the best out of me; it’s completely biased and seems like I always get the short end of the stick.

Sigh

I guess my search for Mia’s first card will just have to wait for now; I can’t search the house with Mom about, if she catches me not playing videos games she’ll end up sending me off to class. Which straight up sucks, this is the perfect time to search, and I’m going to be stuck in my bedroom until the time school typically lets out.

By then Mia will be on her way home, and finding a card for her will be ten times harder than it already is. I just wish there was some way I could keep Mom away from me long enough for me to-

Well—Slap my sack and call me Mark, I belive I have an idea.

Okay, so—I’ve brought up multiple times my mother and sister were complete dicks to me; and don’t get me wrong, they are dicks 60% of the time—Well—Except Mia, she’s a dick 100% of the time.

But I’m not going to take the moral high ground here, I’m just as much as a douche as they are. How so? Well, seeing that I just finished emptying the last box of puzzles we own on the game room floor; yeah, I’m a douche. And that’s not all, I didn’t just spill over a thousand puzzles pieces onto the ground; I tossed every board game we own on its head; and trust me, we own a LOT of board games.

And just in case if that weren’t enough; I even took the liberty to flood the upstairs guest bathroom. But I’ll refrain from telling her about that one unless she ends up cleaning up the game room before I’m done. Because the thought crossed my mind. Why worry about Mom catching me snooping for cards when I could just use the cleaning Sub-Trigger to distract her while I freely search the house? And even if she stumbles across me while she’s cleaning, the Sub-Trigger forces her to ignore me unless I touch her. So I could theoretically search through her wallet right in front of her while she’s cleaning up a mess I made, and she won’t do so much as give me a passing glance!

“Mom?”

“Ryan? What are you doing down here?” Mom said from behind her laptop, she’s sitting to close to the table her massive breasts are practically laying on the desk in front of her as if they were being presented to me on a platter; her creamy open valley just begging me to stick my face in. I could—Oh how I could do that right now and clap my hands three times to wipe her memory... But no—I can only do that once a day, and I need to save it for emergencies. “You should be—”

“I made a little mess in the game room, could you clean it up?”

Instantly, without any form of resisting as she did before; her expression softened like she was looking at a toddler who was asking for help opening the cooky jar. “Oh honey, of course, I will.” She rolled her chair back and dropped what she was working on without a second thought.

Seconds later we’re both standing in the game room, my eyes—and my cock—glued to Mom’s amazing figure as her own gaze is set on the ridiculous mess I caused.

“Well, how did this happen?” She said with a hand on her chin, like she’s examining a crime scene and asking the unfortunate victim for an explanation..

“Well—I took all the games on that bookshelf,” I say pointing the now empty large wooden shelf in the corner of the room. “And then I tossed them all on the floor. I had to open some up to make sure everything fell out. Are you mad at me?”

“Oh sweety, why would I be upset with you?” Mom said before giving me a tight hug, forcing my face into her valley, completely ignoring my hardon pressing directly into her thigh, and not making a fuss about my salivating face motorboating between her tits as she holds me tight. “I know you didn’t do this on purpose.”

“Mmhphmm,” I mumble, not even trying to speak audible words; with my face in this perfect nest, I’m merely enjoying that unique aroma that can only be found between Mom’s breasts.

“Hmm?”

“Mmph!” I pull my face out from her chest after many seconds and a small internal struggle, leaving a strand of saliva connecting my lips to her cleavage. “No, I definitely did all this on purpose.”

“Tsk Tsk, You don’t mean that.” Mom cooed, she then leaned down and gave me a motherly kiss on my forehead. “Now go back and enjoy your game, I will start working on this.” She gave my cheek a small pat and turned around to the mess I made.

As she crouched on all fours in that loose robe, my meat stick stood tall in her direction; I could easily release my stress on her right now for the heck of it. Her juicy rump is idly swinging in the air as she picks up piece by piece; that robe is doing nothing to hide the posterior she’s packing.

No! No! I want to save my pent up energy for later, preferably at night so I can let it loose on Mom during the bedtime Sub-Trigger. Besides, I didn’t do this so I could watch her clean up after me as her loose dress slowly falls apart....

No! I need to think about the future, I’ll never be able to have fun with Mia tomorrow if I don’t find a card!

With that internal struggle over, I turn around to head back upstairs; hopefully, leaving Mom on the floor; now won’t have to worry about my mother getting in my way for the next hour. And even if she does finish before I find a card, there’s a flooded bathroom that needs cleaning.

‘Sister’s love selfies, but taking the proper picture can persistently be problematic. Luckily, a brother’s male gaze can indeed prove to be quite useful. Thus following his instructions under the guise of a selfie could never be a bad idea.’

“Well, lookie what I found!”

I say while striding into my bedroom with a brightly smug-ass smile glued to my face. A bright blue folded card held securely between my fingertips.

‘A sense of purpose in life?’

“Haha! No, we both know I’m never going to find that.”

‘Oh wow, you’re just tossing yourself into the dirt like that? Okay then.’

“I learned a good while ago that if I brake my own self-esteem, no one else will be able to hurt me.” Nodding to myself I spin around and plot my bum on the bed.

‘That is—Man that’s depressing....’

“Yeah...”

And then, thank god, after almost an entire minute of awkward silence, the 8-ball broke the tension.

‘So what card did you find this time?’

“Oh, this?” I ask while raising the blue card up to eye level.

‘Don’t fuck with me, you know good well what I’m talking about, bitch.’

“Chill!” I stammer, even now, I don’t think I will ever get used to the sound of my own voice insulting me. “I was just attempting to keep the conversation flowing at a reasonable pace.”

‘Yeah well, the conversation can flow if you answer my fucking question.’

“Someone needs a glass of water...” I murmur. “Anyway, I found this card in our family album, it was just laying there patiently on page three.”

Actually, I did initially search through Mia’s room, of course since she’s not home and Mom’s busy cleaning I wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught in there. Unfortunately, I forgot just how shit I am at searching and find nothing I did. Eventually, my stomach began grumbling, and I decided to call it quits and search somewhere else after I filled up my tank.

But during the entirety of breakfast, my thoughts kept on drifting back to Mia, and more importantly what she looked like in that amazingly arousing bikini of hers. The way it stuck to her creamy body, the only blemish on her skin being her cute splatter of freckles; I was getting way too aroused for my own good. And with my hot Mom in the basement, well—I might’ve ended up doing something idiotic. So instead of letting my urges take control of my brain, I decided to pull out our family album and see if I could find any more pics of Mia in a strapless bikini.

And while I didn’t find any pictures worth fapping over, I did stumble across something just as good; if not, better!

‘Sub-Trigger B—#6? What!?’ It said, flabbergasted. ‘I must admit, I didn’t expect you to find that one for a good while.’

“B—#6?”

‘Uhh, yeah? Group B is for your sister, and group A’s your mother. I like to consider myself a fairly organized Incubus.’

“Incubus?”

‘And I even used my blue cards so you wouldn’t have any difficulty distinguishing them. Bright blue is your sister’s favorite color, so I went with that, likewise with your mother and the color white.’

“I knew Mia’s favorite color already, but Mom’s is white? Huh—Yah learn something new every day; this game is slowing helping me learn more about my family as it goes on.”

‘I’m just here to help.’

“Well then—could you tell me what the trigger does?”

‘Shut the fuck up.’

“Fair enough.”

“Thanks for the pizza Mom!” I say while seated at the kitchen table.

“You’re welcome sweety,” Mom states, seated in a lone chair against the wall, not bothering to look up from her book. Still in her loose robe, with the top three buttons undone, and legs folded atop one another in a simple yet very appealing manner.

“Uh—Mom?”

“Yes, Mia?”

“So, why do I have to do the dishes today? Even though it’s Ryan’s week?” Mia asks with her head hunched over the sink, with her perky and round posterior facing us.

“Because.” Mom sighed, “I said so, that’s why.”

“But—” Mia began but was cut off by Mom’s tone of voice raising in authority.

“Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I’m assigning his chores onto you as a punishment for your recent cheeky behavior?” Mom lowered her book to eye Mia, “It’s starting to come off as though you’re not respecting me and my orders, and that is not acceptable young lady.”

“It’s just that—” Mia murmured, “You seems to be acting a bit different, I dunno—You’ve just been very permissive with Ryan lately,” Mia said, while idly scrubbing away at the plates in the sink.

“Honey, as long as you stay within your boundaries nothing will go wrong. I promise you, things aren’t changing, and if they are, I will always have your highest intentions at heart.”

“Yes, Mom...” Mia sighed to herself.

Oh hohohoh, they’re both so clueless to what’s going on; I love it! It’s ridiculously hard to wrap my brain around the fact that Mom is beginning to side with me. The more Sub-Triggers I use on her, the more and more she begins to give control over to me; honestly, I wonder if she’ll ever realize that her mind is being tampered with.

But speaking of Sub-Triggers, I have two to use, one for Mom, and the other for Mia; but as for now, Mom is my target. I’ll play with Mia tomorrow when I have the house alone with her.

Now it’s definitely risky to test it out on Mom while Mia is in the kitchen, but I’m on a sexual high, and thinking straight simply isn’t going to happen with me in this state.

Looking down towards the box of pizza on the table in front of me, I greedily open the box and pull out a slice of an all meat pizza. God, I love how Mia doesn’t even bother asking Mom why I get to have a whole pizza pie to myself, while everyone else has to wait for the vegetable parties to finish cooking in the oven. My sister’s starting to become scared of the woman who always had her side in any arguments we had. And her fear is rightly justified, if she complained about my meal she’d very much be risking the possibility of getting grounded. Cause in Mom’s mind, nothing is out of the ordinary; so why would Mia be acting up?

Anyhow, back to the pizza slice.

“Mom.”

“Hmm?”

“Want a slice?” I ask, extending out my arm towards her.

“Oh, no thank you, I will wait for the patties to finish.”

Okay, Ryan, no going back now, you’ve prepared for this, just dive in!

“But I made this pizza myself, I just wanted you to taste what I worked hard on?”

“What!?” Mia budded in, leaning on the kitchen counter facing me with a with her free hand on her hips and a ‘Are you fucking stupid?’ Look on her face. “Mom bought that pizza for you, for some godforsaken reason!”

“Your sister is correct,” Mom added, with a questioning tone of voice. “What are you trying to get at here? You can’t just take credit for—”

“Pfffft” Mia added her two sense.

“No no no!” I continue, “I’m only using the same pizza box, but I actually made my own pizza while—you were—reading that book!”

“Tssssk Hahaha!” Mia burst out laughing, “Ryan what the hell are you talking about? You can’t expect anyone to believ—”

“Oh really?” Mom voice cut in with honest intrigued. “Well then, of course, I’ll have a slice! Thank you, Ryan.”

“No sweat Mom,” I say, grinning ear to ear.

“I—Wha—Mom—” Mia stood by the kitchen counter at a lost for words. “You can’t possibly believe him?”

“Now Mia,” Mom scolded while accepting the pizza slice from my extended hand. “Don’t discourage your brother’s attempts at cooking, it is only respectful—”

“But Mooom!? He’s—”

“Young lady!”

“I can’t I—I literally can’t!” Mia said before turning around and speeding walking out of the kitchen.

“What has gotten into her?” Mom said to herself.

“I have no idea Mom, but how does it taste?”

Before she could answer though, her expression took on a familiar blank look.

“Sub-Trigger, Whenever Ryan presents me with something consumable and claims that he cooked it himself, I will believe him and then consume whatever he offered me. Afterward, regardless of how it tasted. Mommy will thank him for the lovely food and encourage him to make more.”

“Awww hell yeah! I figured it out on the first attempt!”

“You figured what out?” Mom’s natural voice shocked me for a bit.

“H—How to make a pizza, of course.”

“Ah, well, I’ll be the judge of that.” Mom said with a smirk. But before she could take a bite, I cut her off.

“Actually I cooked an entirely original dish I believe you might enjoy.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, it’s um, in the bathroom...”

“Okay, would you bring it down here for me?”

“Well actually, I need to make sure it’s done, but could you meet me in the bathroom in five minutes?” I say as I jump out of my chair.

“I don’t see why I would eat something in the bathro—”

“It—can’t leave the bathroom—it’s a particular dish—Err, I put a lot of effort into it, and I really want my mother’s opinion.”

“Uh—Well,” Mom sat there, with her thick thighs folded over each other. Weighing it over in her head.“Sure, why not.”

“Thanks, Mommy!”

Oh, hell to the yeah! The Sub-Trigger says she’ll eat anything consumable, well—I just want to do some testing to see just what she considers as editble.