The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I left work early that afternoon.

Ursula had band practice on Thursdays, my husband works until five, and so I knew that it would just be Dion and I, alone in the house.

I’d be able to talk to him, mother to son.

“Dion,” I said, and my step-son looked up at me from the couch, lust in his eyes.

A part of me quivered, but I knew I had to stay strong.

For my daughter.

“Dion,” I repeated, but before I could get the rest of my sentence out, it was out.

His cock.

He’d unzipped his pants and pulled out his thickening erection.

I couldn’t look away.

“Dion,” I said. I’d been planning this conversation in my head all day. I was going to be firm. Authoritative. I was his mother; I was going to tell him exactly what to do, that his behavior wasn’t acceptable.

Instead, I realized, my voice was breathy. Soft.

Pliant.

“Dion,” I begged. I wanted to slap myself. I sounded like I was panting, like I was…horny. I sounded like I was begging to be touched.

He gestured to the couch beside him, and I couldn’t help myself. I sat down.

I wanted to look him in the eyes, to show him that I was in control, in command. I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t keep using my daughter like that; how inappropriate it was.

I’d planned to threaten him, warn him that I’d tell his father. Although even I wasn’t sure if I could follow through on that. Ronald was so trusting, so kind—it would kill him, to discover what his son had done. What his son had become.

Ronald loved Ursula, and I knew it would break him if he learned what was happening under his own roof.

Besides, what if Dion told him what I’d done? Yes, my step-son had started it, but I should have ended it that first night on the couch.

The couch we were sitting on at that moment.

“Dion,” I said, in a final attempt to regain the upper hand. I need to talk to you, I wanted to say. I need to talk about what you’ve been doing. It’s wrong. You can’t.

We can’t.

But as soon as I said his name, he grabbed my hand, and moved it to his cock.

The words died in my throat, and I watched in horror and arousal as my hand—my treacherous, perfectly-manicured hand—began stroking Dion’s thick cock, as though I’d done it a thousand times before.

As if that was what I’d been born to do.

Stroking his erection, I realized it was slightly sticky. Dion hadn’t showered since that morning.

He hadn’t showered since he’d taken my daughter.

I tried not to think about it. I wanted to shut my eyes and imagine I was touching Ronald, my loving husband—Dion’s son.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t look away.

As I stroked Dion’s cock, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Ursula—my dear, sweet Ursula—had taken this hard rod inside her, just a few hours ago. She was so tiny, and he was so huge…it boggled the mind.

“Dion,” I said once more. I barely recognized my own voice, it was so thick with lust. With want. With desire.

I suddenly realized; I was soaking wet.

No.

Yes.

With a great amount of effort, I managed to shut my eyes. Before I knew what was happening, I could feel Dion’s muscular hands on the back of my head, pushing my head down to his crotch.

No…

Yes.

My eyes shot open as I realized what I was tasting. Thinly coating the outside of Dion’s cock was my daughter.

Ursula.

I was tasting my daughter’s juices.

No, I thought again, but I couldn’t stop. It was like some kind of feeding frenzy.

The first time I’d fellated Dion, it had been calm. Sedate. Classy, even.

Now, it was like I was in heat.

I desperately licked and slurped at the teenage hardness, trying to get as much of it down my throat as I could. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I enthusiastically sucked my step-son’s cock.

Every now and again I’d let out a grunt, like a pig suckling at a sow. Soon, I was grunting non-stop as I managed to deep-throat the cocky teenage boy.

I’d licked away every last vestige of my daughter’s juices, but my tongue wouldn’t stop exploring his skin, trying desperately to find any more traces of her.

Ursula.

I wanted to stop. I wanted to stop, to pull back and tell Dion that what we were doing was wrong. That he had to stop doing this to me, to my daughter.

Instead, I vigorously bobbed my head up and down his cock until I could feel him shooting down my throat.

When Dion came, it was as though his hold on me completely disappeared. I swallowed his seed, then staggered back.

“Dion,” I rasped, one last time, but he just smiled in response.

I could feel myself throbbing; my pussy. My tits. I felt like my face was on fire.

“Later,” I said, then turned and fled the room.

I needed to clear my head. I needed to get off, so I could think.

I needed to get off.

After cumming around my hand twice, I felt much calmer. It was obvious what I needed to do.

Dion had somehow managed to seduce my daughter. She was young, susceptible to attention from an older man.

I needed to save her.

It was clear that talking to Dion wasn’t going to work. His draw, his pull over me—it was too strong to fight. I was too weak; if I confronted him, I knew that I’d give in to his advances, again and again.

I moaned at the thought.

No, I wasn’t going to be able to intimidate him into stopping. I’d have to be smarter than that.

I’d have to exhaust him.

Dion was a man. A teenager, yes, but still a man. And men have limits.

If I was able to keep him completely sexually satisfied, there was no way he’d be able to do anything with my daughter.

I could never cheat on my darling Ronald, but I know my talents. If I went down on him two, three times a day…even a teenager wouldn’t have anything left.

If I blew Dion as often as I could, he wouldn’t have the stamina to do anything to keep using Ursula for his own satisfaction.

It was the only way.

That night, I checked to make sure Ursula was in her own bed before I made my way into Dion’s bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Ronald had been uncomfortable with the idea of putting locks on our children’s bedrooms, but I’d insisted. I’d never had any privacy as a child, and I’d wanted to make sure my daughter didn’t grow up that way.

I was suddenly very glad that I had.

Dion didn’t say anything as I approached the bed; he just smiled.

On one hand, I wanted to wipe that arrogant smile off his face. He was using my daughter—my sweet, innocent teenage daughter—to get off. How dare he.

How dare he.

On the other hand, that smile sent a chill through my body that I couldn’t explain. I shivered with pleasure at the sight of it, before dropping to my knees beside his bed.

Again, he pulled my mouth to his, forcing his tongue deep into my throat, taking my mouth as though it belonged to him.

As though I belonged to him.

I melted into the kiss, allowing his hands to explore my body. His rough hands reached up underneath my nightshirt, grabbing my tits, twisting my nipples. I wanted to cry out with pain, but I knew I couldn’t risk anyone knocking at the door, wondering why I was missing and our son’s bedroom door was locked.

And so I just closed my eyes and accepted the pain.

As Dion reached between my legs, I remembered why I was there. It was not for my pleasure…not, of course, that I was going to get any pleasure from this. This was for my daughter.

This was for Ursula.

I moved his hand away, and climbed up on the bed.

Dion smiled at me—again, causing a wave of lust to roll through my entire body—and I realized he thought I was going to climb on top of him.

Images of Dion’s smile as I rode him flashed through my mind, but I couldn’t do that. Not to Ronald. Not to my husband.

Not with his son.

I shot him a seductive smile, and slithered down his body, until my head was level with his monstrous cock. It looked like it was straining to get out of his briefs.

“Please,” I whispered. “Let me do this for you.”

Dion didn’t respond, but I knew he wanted it. His eyes bore into mine as I unleashed his huge erection. I wanted to keep staring at his face, watching his reaction to my slutty actions, but I couldn’t resist glancing down at his cock…and then, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it.

I’d felt like I was in a haze for our previous few encounters, like I was on a runaway roller-coaster. I’d felt totally out of control.

This, tonight: I felt like I was the one in power.

I was doing this, me. Not for him not for me.

For Ursula.

Pride filled my body as I reflected on what a good mother I was being. This was the right thing to do.

It was the right thing to do.

My mouth was watering, in preparation for taking Dion’s length inside. I stuck my tongue out, and as I began to lick his cock, my eyes widened.

No.

No.

Earlier that day, when I’d gone down on my step-son, I’d licked him completely clean.

And yet, I could taste it. On the skin of Dion’s cock—the unmistakeable taste of my daughter’s juices.

No. Not again.

Since Ursula gotten home, Dion had again taken her.

How?

He was hard as a man who hadn’t been laid in a week, but the evidence was there. He’d taken my daughter that morning, I’d blown him in the afternoon, he’d taken her again since then…and still he was sporting an erection hard enough to cut glass.

This was going to be more difficult than I thought.

Still, I thought as I took Dion’s cock into my mouth, I’m nothing if not a hard worker.

As my step-son’s erection hit the back of my throat, it was tempting to reach between my legs and play with myself. I’d just gotten off a few hours ago, but…god, there was just something about Dion. His smile, his arrogance, his dick.

I knew I was dripping wet.

Mustering up all the self-control I could manage, I resisted. I focused all my efforts on Dion—he’d already gotten off (at least) three times that day, so I was expecting it to take a while. If I was going to wear him out, however, I had to get used to this.

My mouth, my jaw, my neck—they were all going to get tired, but with practice, I knew I’d build up enough stamina to do what needed to be done for Ursula.

For Ursula.

To my great surprise, it was less than five minutes before Dion grunted, and started shooting his load down my throat. I swallowed it hungrily—more hungrily than I wanted to admit—and once he was done, pulled back.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Dion just nodded in response. He looked like he was ready to fall asleep, but we weren’t done yet.

“Again,” I whispered, and his eyes widened slightly with surprise before he shot me that leg-weakening arrogant smile of his.

Without saying a word, he reached between my legs. I wanted to slap his hand away, to remind him that I was his mother and that he would treat me with respect…but somehow, with his cum still making its way to my stomach, I didn’t feel like my words would carry much weight.

Besides, if this was what he needed to get turned on again, I had to let it happen.

I had to get him hard, and get him off. I had to, again and again and again.

For my daughter.

For Ursula.