The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After everyone else had gone up to bed. I continued to sit on the couch, turning on the TV to find out what to expect of the blizzard currently pounding us. Yeah, I know. Snow, lots of snow. But I wanted to know if it was moving on and how soon we could expect things to return to... well, normal.

The Weather Channel was covering just that very thing and from the size of the coverage on the Doppler radar, it didn’t look like it would stop before morning. I sighed. Being back at home was bad enough, but being stuck in the house was worse. The memories made me want to break out the shovel and make sure there would be an escape path if needed, but there were too many things going on that had to be resolved. At the moment, I was hoping Mom would answer some of my questions regarding my adoption. With the way she had received me and treated me like I was the son she had always wanted, I was a little more than hopeful.

It might have been possible that my parents and oldest sister were being nice because I was only staying the week. It was possible that my parents had talked it over and felt they owed me something for all the hardships. It was possible that the blizzard would suddenly turn into a giant fire storm and burn the state off the map. Yeah, that last was most likely.

I had thought about so many reasons why they had been acting so strangely but only one thing would make such a change so possible and complete. Master PC. With their profiles requiring passwords, I was more than certain that the program was responsible. I might as well take advantage. I’m pretty sure it was what they would do if our places were reversed. Of course I didn’t have anything they wanted.

The Weather Channel went on to report on the West Coast. It wasn’t anything that would affect us for the next few days so I turned it off. I sat there in the dark, the coals in the fire were the only light in the room.

Mom had gone to the kitchen, probably to have one last drink before bed. I heard hear approach, just a soft rustling. Looking around in the dim light I saw nothing, but then almost like a ghost, Mom made her way toward me in her bathrobe. In the soft light I saw the robe first and then her second.

She stopped at the end of the couch. “Sitting alone in the dark?”

I looked up at her face. I still couldn’t believe she looked so different. The expression was soft concern rather than sharp annoyance.

“Yeah, just thinking things over. And I was hoping we could talk.”

She moved closer and sat next to me. The couch was long enough for four people to sit together comfortably and she chose to press right up against me. After my encounter with Monique in my room, I worried about Mom’s closeness for a moment. My Charm was under lock and key. I knew how it would affect her and how quickly and at the moment, Mom seemed relaxed.

“What’s on your mind?” She asked.

I just shook my head. How could I tell her that her and dad were acting weird by being nice? It was something I had always wanted, loving parents, but instead it bothered more than how they used to act. It also made it difficult for me to ask about my adoption. “Nothing much. Guess it’s just been a busy day.” I can’t believe I just let it go like that!

She smiled. “From what I hear you did okay on your exams.”

I looked up at that. Mandy and I hadn’t spoken about school at all since we left. What did Mom really know? Or was she just trying to make polite conversation? And why now, alone? “Yeah, they were okay. Could’ve been better.”

She smiled and laid her arm across my shoulders. It was supposed to be a normal motherly-affection kind of reaction, but it made me tense up and she noticed. “What’s the matter? Why so tense?” She immediately pushed on my shoulders to get me to turn so she could get at them.

Again, my conditioning to do what she told me to made me turn. Immediately her hands covered my shoulders and with a strength I wouldn’t have guessed at she began working on the knots I didn’t know I had. Though it felt good to have my shoulders rubbed, the fact that it was my mother doing it kept me tense.

I was perplexed. A conundrum of conflicting impulsions battled inside me. The attention she was offering was welcome, but the woman I had grown to expect to be upset with me—no matter how slight the issue—was the same one.

“God, Ral. No wonder you had so many problems in school. I’d have difficulty concentrating at work if I were this tense all the time.” She pulled away and I started to relax, hoping she wasn’t going to continue. The tone in her voice had suggested otherwise, but I was hopeful. She stood up. “Take off your sweater.”

I just looked up at her. I wasn’t sure if she could see my expression, but it didn’t matter.

“Take off your sweater and lie down on the couch.” She said. Her voice held only a slight hint of commanding tone. That was all it took.

Again, I gave in. Unlike earlier however, I wasn’t getting mad about the situation. Actually, I was thinking along a different line. If she got me to relax, maybe whatever was blocking me from asking about my adoption would slip and I could actually talk to her about it. So, I took off the sweater and laid face down on the couch. To be honest, a very small part of me expected her to come after me with a switch, but I felt her bare hands on my shoulders again. The touch was light at first and then became more firm.

The skin-to-skin contact was nice. Her fingers dug into my muscles and worked at the knots and I began to melt into her motions.

Wait, she was touching me skin-to-skin and my ability to share memories hadn’t just gone off?

I focused on her fingers, her touch. I thought about her skin touching mine. The soft contours and firm application. The tender ministration and curious strength. As I relaxed under her hands, I focused on her. Her emotions, her mind. There had to be an answers in there. Answers regarding my adoption. Something that might tell me more about why I had come to live with this family. As I eased into her emotions, the first level of her being, the first thing I found and the last thing I wanted to know about was her desire. She was enjoying giving me this shoulder massage. The touch of my body under her hands was turning her on. There was no confusion and anger, as Monique had experienced, only the need for a warm body to lie next to hers. I thought at first that it was because Dad wouldn’t be home and continued deeper into her psyche. The first image from her was me on my back while she pulled off my pants and began exploring my hardening manhood. It made me tense up again.

“Oh, Ral. This isn’t working. How about if you lay on the floor so I can get a better angle?”

I should have said no. I should have got up, put my sweater back on, and gone back upstairs. What I did was move over onto the floor and lay there, waiting for her to continue. My automatic obedience to her commands won out over reason. She was acting like she was drawn to me, just like Monique had started out when she had first entered my room. I knew what was going on. What I didn’t know was who was pulling the strings.

Mom crawled over me, straddling my body with hers. She lowered her face next to my ear and whispered, “Thank you for being so cooperative.” Then she sat back, sitting on my butt as if it were a pillow. Pressure built up in my groin as a result and I knew I would probably get hard, and it would be uncomfortable.

She resumed working on my shoulders. She was right, the angle was better, but I was more focused on her. It took me a minute but I relaxed and focused on our contact.

Memories came to me. She had a big argument about money with Dad. He had made some investments and she didn’t agree with them. It wasn’t the amount of money he invested but the company, one that she didn’t think had a good future. Why they argued so adamantly about the company was beyond me, but neither wanted to back down. She left the bedroom and slept on the couch that night. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first I had ever known about.

Another memory, this one concerning my calls. Mom thought I should know the truth about my adoption but dad was stead-fast against it. Again, the reasons were lost, as if Mom either didn’t know why or something had removed them. I was pretty sure if Master PC had been used to alter her memories I would notice the screaming replacements. However, something like with the command that had urged Monique to... do what she did was at work here. It was possible the same Mind Magi was responsible, but there was no way to be certain. It wasn’t like I had a symbol or fingerprint to compare the two with. Not wanting to reveal myself to whoever was making the changes that I was aware of what was happening in Mom’s mind any more than I had with Monique, I didn’t push further. There was also the possibility that whoever it was might have been watching us. I couldn’t see how unless they had some kind of clairvoyant ability, but that was possible.

At the moment, with her mindset, Mom believed she was looking for comfort from me while thinking of the reasons she wasn’t with Dad—other than his absence. I was okay with that, as long as her desire to get me out of my pants remained only a thought and didn’t happen.

Then there was a memory of Monique’s arrival and the guy she had brought home with her, Ryan. Mom thought he was handsome and quite charming. I wasn’t fooled. He reminded me of others I had seen only through my women’s memories. Guys that only wanted to get laid and would lure women into their beds only to leave them lonely before dawn. Mom may have been lonely enough to allow it to happen to her, but some part of me didn’t want... what? Want it to happen? Want her to be happy? Or, want her to go to a stranger? Even my feelings of how I was raised didn’t dispel that thought. I would protect her from others, but would I leave her lonely with Dad? I didn’t know.

That also made me think of Monique. She was upstairs with Ryan now. I could feel her emotional blankness which told me she was already fast asleep.

Mom had started moving down, working along my spine, sliding her hands over my back with a level of skill I wouldn’t have expected. She even slipped her finger tips under the waist of my jeans but no further. She was trying to work out the tension in my muscles externally. Internally, I could feel her excitement at the intimacy of how she touched me.

I couldn’t bring myself to ask about my adoption at the moment. Mom’s thoughts and feelings were starting to affect me. I was also sure any attempt to trace the source of those subtle changes in her might tip off whoever made them that I was more than just the son of the family. I needed to just go to bed, sleep on it and hope that tomorrow would bring me more answers.

“Roll over honey. Let me work on your chest,” she said softly.

She got up and I rolled over. She stood over me, her legs straddling my hips. Her robe had opened enough to show off a lot of leg. If not for the dim light, I might have seen what she was wearing under the robe. When I looked up to her face, I caught a glimpse of her desire. She smiled, hiding her thoughts, but it was too late. I knew her thoughts were gaining ground. If she reached for the top of my jeans again, I’d put a stop to it.

Then she lowered herself down on me. She didn’t bother closing her robe or trying to cover herself. She went down, allowing her legs to push the soft cloth away and expose her bare body to me. She sat gingerly on my thighs and I could feel her heat. No, that thought wasn’t just a thought any more.

As she settled down, relaxing into place I started to sit up. “Mom...”

She put a finger to my lips. “Shhh...” She pushed me gently back down. “Let me finish, then you can go on to bed.”

Let her finish? She was just getting started. How long had it been since she and Dad... No! I didn’t want to think about that. It was wrong. It wasn’t my fault if they were having problems. I wasn’t to blame if she hadn’t had... sex... in a while.

She leaned over and lightly ran her hands over my chest and down my abs. Over and over again, she softly touched my skin, rocking back and forth as she reached forward on me and pulled back. It was sort of like watching someone using a rowboat, only my body replaced the use of oars.

I was extremely aware of her body on mine and my body was reacting. I tried to relax, tried to think of something other than the sight of my foster mother rocking back and forth as she ran her hands over me. My eyes drifted, looking for something else to focus on and they caught the wrong thing... or things. Apparently Mom wasn’t wearing a bra either. I swallowed hard and looked up at the ceiling. I knew the dangers of seeing her breasts. I might completely lose my mind and sleep with her if I didn’t find something else to look at.

She stopped the soft-touch running of her hands, leaned forward and began working my pecks. I could feel how far she was leaning because her robe grazed my abs and I felt the weight of her breasts behind it. I looked down and she was smiling back at me.

“Just relax honey.”

I was fully certain she knew what she was doing. Not just trying to get me to relax, but other things too. Would it really be so wrong to let her have what she seemed to want? I was already bedding Mandy. In fact, she had told me she would be waiting for me. That got me more excited than what Mom was doing. The idea of Mandy laying in my bed, waiting for me. The feel of her bare breasts pressed to some area of my body. Against my chest, sliding down to my abs, and stopping around my swollen prick. Yeah, a good titty-fuck would be nice. I stretched and arched my crotch up at the idea. I could almost swear I could feel Mandy’s swollen nipples against me...

I looked down. Mom was still there, still working on my chest, and her robe had opened, allowing her full, warm, soft breasts to rest against me. I had to admit, it felt good, but it made me tense again.

Mom either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She was focused on my chest. Then again, having had the insight I did, I doubted her ignorance of the situation. She knew her bare breasts were rubbing against me. She was enjoying it. So much so that her constant work on my chest didn’t change at all. She had been working across my chest, here and there, seeking tense areas to relieve, but now she was merely groping my pecs.

Without looking up, she scooted forward, placing her bottom squarely on my hardened prick. The change allowed her to put more pressure on my chest, but pressure on my chest wasn’t what she was after.

I continued to lay there under her as she began grinding herself on my crotch. I should have put a stop to it. Why didn’t I?

Mom leaned on my chest, working out tension lost to the sensation of her heated, wet pussy rubbing against my jeans.

I wanted to say something, maybe snap her out of whatever dream she was enjoying. With her eyes closed and her lips pursed, she looked very much like she was enjoying her dream. To be honest, the expression was one I had never seen on her. It was pleasant and reminded me of my girls when they had already fallen asleep before I joined them in bed. The word “angel” came to mind and I didn’t want to disturb that.

Her movements became more acute. She ground on me harder, as if getting closer to release. With her hands on my chest, I could feel her pleasure, her enjoyment of being accepted, her need. I knew what would happen if she and I threw what little restraint we still had to the wind. My mark would hover over her chest and she would be forever linked to me, desiring my touch, yearning for my kiss. There was the possibility, like with Monique, that we wouldn’t bind. However, with Monique, I had been more focused on what was going on in her head than my need to get off. Was it possible the same would happen with my Mom...? So many others already felt those desires and I couldn’t bear to let them go, even though I knew it was wrong to keep them all for myself. The only thing I could do was keep from adding more to the family.

Family. It was what I called myself and my collection of women. It was what this household was supposed to be. It was what we all wanted to be a part of and live in. Why would I deny my mother that?

It was wrong. She had never been a real mother to me. Sure, she made sure I was sheltered, clothed and fed, but all those little things that made a mother special had always been missing. Why should I allow her to get her jollies on my lap when Dad wouldn’t take care of her? It was wrong only because I couldn’t bring myself to be as cold as she had been. I couldn’t do it. I would allow her a little pleasure.

Reaching up and taking her hands, I pulled her down onto me. She didn’t argue, or open her eyes in surprise. She just laid down on me, rubbing the side of her face against my chest, and continued grinding her body to mine. I raised my knees and pressed up against her, allowing her to get a better angle. The movement caused her to moan. The sound wasn’t loud, but in the soft, quiet of the house, it sounded it.

I held her to me as she continued to work toward orgasm. When it finally hit, she lunged up and pressed her lips to mine, her tongue drove into my mouth seeking mine. She held me, kissed me and soaked me.

Once she came down, she pulled back. Her breathing was still heavy and her eyes just a touch glazed over. I would have guessed that she didn’t immediately realize who she was laying on, but I would have been wrong.

She looked up into my eyes and said, “Ral. Thank you.”

I was a touch shocked, but understood because I had seen her desire, felt it.

She started to get up, but I held her fast. She looked down at me, a touch of her former stern expression mingled with her confusion. She settled against me, a soft smile on her face. “Ral, what are you doing?”

I wasn’t sure exactly. All I knew was that I enjoyed laying there with her. She may have portrayed herself as my mother growing up, but she hadn’t been my Mom. Now she was a lonely woman whose husband wasn’t present. She had used me to get off, and was seemingly satisfied with only that. I guess what I wanted was the after-sex cuddle. No I hadn’t had sex, but I had grown used to lots of cuddling during the aftermath. Something told me she didn’t get that with Dad. “Just lie here with me for a bit. Okay?”

She looked at me for a moment. I could see the wheels turning as she tried to decipher what I was thinking.

“I’m not asking for anything. I thought you might enjoy just being held.” I offered.

She smiled, just a touch. “Very thoughtful, but if someone catches us on the floor like this...” She was worried about what the others thought, not what had just happened or that I wasn’t concerned with it either.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded but didn’t say anything. I let her go and she sat up. For another minute she sat on me, her heated, damp crotch pressed to my throbbing, jean-covered prick. A sigh ran through her body. “Whoever you end up with is going to be a very lucky woman.”

“Why do you say that?”

She smiled. “You have such a gentle way about you. You’re willing to give without any question of return. You don’t mind holding and cuddling, and you’re...” she rolled her hips, grinding once again against me, “...you’re so very... there.” I wasn’t sure but I think her blush was caused by thinking directly about my size.

She stood up and covered herself. I got up and grabbed my sweater. Mom stepped up to me, just a breath away. I thought she was going to say something, but all she did was reach up and give me a kiss on the cheek. “Good night, honey.”

I left her there, knowing she was going to sleep in a lonely bed. Somehow that seemed even more wrong than allowing her to get herself off on me. I stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to see that she had already left the room too. I listened to the deafening silence. I thought I heard her crying.

Up in my room, Mandy had been waiting for me. Her fur-lined body was warm in my bed. Her soft snores filled my space. I knew she hadn’t just gone to bed. At least, not with a tail and cat ears. We had agreed the only way she could shift back to her normal appearance was with sex. Suddenly I wondered if sleep might have been an acceptable alternative.

I curled up behind her, spooning against the soft silk she preferred to have. The slightest touch and she knew I was there, but sleep weighed too heavily on her and she drifted back out again. For a while, I laid there, wondering if Mom was okay. I could still feel her emotions, and though she felt satisfied with her need for sex, she still felt lonely. I had to close the connection and snuggled up against my pet. Here was hoping no one went looking for her or came in to wake me too early.

For a bit, I dreamed. Monique, Mandy and Mom were taking turns riding me. I knew it was a dream because it didn’t have the realism of the dream room I shared with my girls. Just that thought and the images left me, replaced by the warm and friendly darkness of our shared dream. One by one the others appeared, just as they had the night before. Some were a bit fuzzy around the edges, mostly those who were so far away, but Jeri, Yvonne, Chloe and Tabitha were as real as the cat-girl I was sleeping with.

I told everyone about meeting Michael and all the information he had shared with me. Some were concerned that there might have been more to gain, but others were sure if I had really wanted to ransack Michael’s memories, he wouldn’t have been able to stop me. I confessed that if he was truly a friend, someone who could help, then I didn’t want to ruin the possibility by being so stubborn as to refuse his help. Of course this only brought about more concerns about me being coerced into something potentially dangerous.

We could have held hours of discussions on Michael’s intentions alone, so I settled it by sharing those memories I had gained about him. It settled most arguments but with so many minds working together, all of us thought awareness and continued near-paranoia shouldn’t be completely left out of the equation.

Renée had been fairly quiet in this exchange. She had the same thoughts that I had had regarding her abilities and the fact that she didn’t have a mark but carried mine instead. Then I found out that she had checked on her parents with Master PC. Neither had ever been altered by the program.

If she wasn’t a Child of the Program, then how did she have the ability she had? She also didn’t have a mark of her own, so that ruled her out of being a Mind Mage, right? I would definitely have to ask Michael about that. Renée wanted to know just as soon as possible.

I also pointed out my efforts to try to expand my abilities. All of the girls were in favor of that. Not one doubted the need for me to be able to defend myself. I made the mental note to myself to try to contact each of them via our links the next day.

Finally, I told the others of the encounters with Monique and Mom. None were surprised at first. After all, I had Charmed Mandy. If her mother and sister had the same taste in good-looking men, then it was natural. However, my memories told them not only why I believed they had done what they did, but also some of my reasons for why neither were bound to me and included in our family.

Erin brought up an idea that I hadn’t considered. What if Mom and Monique were already bound to another Mind Mage? What if they were merely following the wishes of that person and though the commands had been obvious to me, they had accepted that possibility much like any of my girls had learned to accept my influence? Granted, my girls didn’t expect me to send them off to seduce someone else, but this was another Mage we were discussing. It was an idea that certainly had merit. I would look for other marks on them and since I knew the marks could be just about anywhere and any shape on the body, it might take quite the effort. I might even have to do a strip search to locate their marks. The last idea both excited me and made me dread the need for such. My girls, most having not been close to me for a day and a half, took advantage of how it excited me and played at being my mom or sister, seducing me and offering to let me search every square inch of their bodies for some elusive mark I knew they didn’t have. To say the least, it cheered me up that none were against the idea.