The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Within the household Mom had established over the years, the act of punishing (which was something both Mia and I had learned to actively fear) has become nothing more than an annoyance to me. Such as right now.

“What are you doing?” My mother provided me with a glare through the corner of her eyes; evidently, she wasn’t fond of the way my hand had paused in its venture to keep imprinting its flush mark on her right round asscheek.

Honestly, this annoyance has become enough of a punishment in and of itself. I don’t have to worry about her confiscating any of my shit or dishing out any other form of discipline, but I do have to stop whatever I’m doing to be “punished” by her. Which, as I said, could very well, and currently has, become rather annoying.

I mean. I’d rather spank her curvy dump truck of an ass over actually facing the consequences of my actions. And, hell, the only reason I hesitate enough for her to glare at me was because of said ass being so fucking slapable. She pumped out children with this thing and still kept her glutes in prime shape with her exercise routines. It’s like some babe walked by with one of those round, shapely fat bubbles of an ass, and then that babe dropped herself against a table to jut her ass out in her face, just begging to be abused.

In this instance, the babe is my mother; the ass was certainly being abused. But... I don’t know. I’d rather fondle, grope, maybe motherboard her cheeks instead of this stander buttocks jiggling affair. Since I had just finished releasing my load (into her mouth no less,) the apparent urge to do much in the form of “sexual action” wasn’t there. Everyone has their recharge period, and as it stood, my current bout of charging was on hold by this god-tier of an ass.

Initially, Mom didn’t react much when I resorted to less slapping and more absent fondling. Perhaps, in her mind, it is a fair break between spanks that she will allow. But, judging by her glare, that period wasn’t long enough. I’d have to constantly spank her to reset whatever bout of twisted awareness she was under.

Slap

Her ass continued to jiggle on even after my hand inched away.

“Young man,” Mom snapped with a dark hum, just after her cheeks finished theirs out of ripples. “What was that?”

“Uh,” I rubbed the side of her ass, my palm shifted down to cup the lower roundness of her cheek. “I gave you a spank? Like you told me to.”

As if to prove my point, I raised my hand, and...

Slap

“No,” She shook her head, her blonde hair swished against her face. “No, no. Those two do NOT count, do you hear me?” Her eyes narrowed towards me, “After what you did, I expect you to spank me HARD. We will be here all night if we have to.”

“Oh my god,” I sighed in genuine annoyance. “Mom, I—”

“That back talk just gave you ten more. Every spank that isn’t hard enough adds five more. Those are my rules. You will follow them. Now continue. You have twenty-six to go.”

I stared into her sharp eyes, then shifted down to her curvaceous posterior. “Fine. Whatever. It doesn’t hurt me.”

“Oh, tr—” Slap! “Trust me. You’ll learn your lesson by the time we’re done here.” Her voice hitched for just a moment from my hard thwack on her left ass cheek. “Tha- That’s twenty-five.. Make sure they sting, or I’m adding five.“

“Uh-Huh...” I rolled my eyes.

Slap

“Ryan!” Mom snapped yet again; while her ass still jiggled, she shifted her body on the table to display the full force of her sharp glare. Yet any ounce of intimidation failed to hit its more. If anything, I was more focused on the way her breasts were squishing against the tabletop like huge mashed pancakes...

Shit I’m hungry.

I could be eating instead of this.

Mom continued chastising me. Her breath was somewhat heavy. Apparently not heavy enough for her liking, though, considering how much she wants her ass to be abused. “How gullible do you think I am? You can’t go harder! Ten more, let’s go. Now, young man.”

Considering that she’s mad that I’m not spanking her buttocks with enough force to justify me leaving half of the food in a hot car to go bad, I think she’s pretty gullible. And her own breath (that she’s undoubtedly breathing in with how much she’s panting against the table) still has the lingering smell of cum, while her stomach is literally housing her son’s seed.

I’m really not sure how much more gullible she could be.

That being said...

“What happened to only adding five!?”

“A result of your own actions and tone. Consider it a warning. I’ll add more if I have to.” She breathed, “It’s as if you continue to forget who’s in charge here. When I give you an order, you do it. Now spank me,” Her hips shook side to side. The faint action made her ass cheeks wave and slightly clap together. “Hard.”

I felt her ass up, “Yes, Mom.” My hand raised then came down with wind cutting speed. SLAP “I’m really sorry for what I did.“

As my hand came into forceful contact with her buttocks, I gripped the woman’s rippling cheeks between my fingers to feel a sense of the bounce.

“NNnngggh~” She moaned from the sting I left her with. “P-Prove it to me by taking- ta- taking this punishment, and I might forgive you... That makes thirty-five.”

Oh, right. She added ten.

Alright, let me give her what she wants.

SLAP

“Ahhh~” The sudden impact forced out a yelp in tune with the clap and jiggles of her ass. “G-Good boy, that’s thirty-four. Keep it up.”

“I’ll try, Mom.”

SLAP! I provided another spank and appreciated the wild jiggles that resulted; her buttocks bounced on for a solid six seconds before it died down. Only then to be sprung back into action with the next round. SLAPPP

“Thirty-three,” She panted, “Thirty-two...”

SLAP

“Nnmmmgh... thirt...thirty-one..”

Slap

“No har-hard enough...” Mom tried to scold, though her breathy tone and distinctly tired figure didn’t seem to have it in her. “F-five mor...” She cut herself and just inhaled and exhaled to herself for a moment before she backtracked, “Nevermind.... keep going. Make it hard.”

Huh. It’s almost like she let it slide because adding more wouldn’t be worth it on her arse.

Looking at her now though, I’m not sure she could make it to zero.

But she wants it, and “she’s in charge,” so...

“Sorry Mom,” I said, “I’ll make it hard.”

SLAP!

“Go-ooodahhh~” Mom shot her head up and moaned. “Good job baby... that’s thirty... keep going,”

It looked to me like the trigger was already doing its thing in replacing her anger with motherly love. Gotta love that transition. Mom’s cheeks stang and jiggled as the actual cheeks on her face were pressed against the table like her mashed tits. She had a tiny pool of spittle below her lips since she had given up with even attempting to look back at him. Her body resigned itself to the abuse; each spank caused a lurch and jostle.

SLAP

“Twenty-eight...”

SLAP

“Twenty-three...”

SLAP!!

“Ahhk..mmm, Twent...twenty...tw—”

SLAP

“Nineteen..”

Slap

“Harder...”

Slap!

“Harder.”

SLAP

“Eighteen.”

As we made it down the numbers, I could distinctly tell her energy was draining with each slap. Every spank brought her more and more away from the initial bout of anger that started this in the first place.

“I’m really sorry, Mom.”

SLAP

“It’s okay.. y-you’re going great... baby...” Mom panted, “Twelve....”

SLAP!

“Ooohh~ Good boy... eleven...”

SLAP

“Mmmh~ Mommy knows you didn’t mean it... okay?”

SLAP

“I’m s-ssso sorry I-I have to do this to you... It’s for your own good, sweetie..”

I had to hold back a chuckle. Now she’s apologizing to me? And she was just going on about not being gullible.

SLAP

“You’re a good boy,” She said, assumedly to herself.

SLAP

“Good boy...” Mom nodded her head faintly while her voice slurred and trailed off.

SLAP

“We’re almost...almost done, baby..”

My hand inched back from the waves that rippled across her posterior. Where my palm had just been was a near tattoo-like red imprint of my hand. Sheesh, she must have been pissed off. Not that I blame her. Leaving all of that stuff she purchased to go bad instead of doing what she had told me and bringing them inside was undoubtedly a dick move. Good thing she punished me by making me give her a rough spanking. That’ll teach me.

I smirked and leaned down to gently rub my cheek against her rear cheeks. She didn’t seem to mind a brief break, since... well, the pure red tint of her behind should explain why. I wonder how long that image of my hand would last. Just for the hell of it, I tried (and successfully managed) to cover that red mark with my hand.

“Come on, honey...” Mom shifted her head upwards and spoke in a soft murmur. “Let’s finis-AHHHHMMMmmm~” She was cut off with a crack against her ass; it was loud enough to echo throughout the kitchen. Her head then proceeded to collapse back down onto her miniature puddle of drool as she breathed out a breathy, cum-scented, “Four...”

SLAP

“Three,” She moaned, “You’re so close, baby.. I know you can do this!”

As if, to build her anticipation, and because I was a curious teasing bastard, I wondered how she’d react if to a small peck on her ass. Just a little kiss on her beautifully round asscheek, nothing major.

My lips pressed against her right buttcheck in a quiet and to-the-point manner. The ass was yielding enough that it felt like I’d sink in for a brief moment. But she didn’t react. It almost seemed like she didn’t even notice them.

Huh? Did that count as a poke, to her?

Eh, regardless..

SLAP

“Ohh...” Mom licked her lips, “One more honey. One more, and we’re all done... I’ll buy you something from the store to make you feel better, okay baby?”

Ah yes, rewarding me for all my hard work. You’re doing an excellent mothering job, Mom. Keep it up..

“Thanks, Mom,” I stood up and took a subtle step back to prepare for a send-off strike. My fingers interlaced, and I cracked them before using one hand to pat the anticipated area of contact. Really it was just another excuse to feel her up. “Hopefully this is hard enough,”

SSSLLAAAPPP!!!

A rocketing echo ricocheted against the walls, and my mother’s ass pancaked inwards before it was sent jostling about in a rupture of bubbly ripples. Mom’s head bolted up, and her lips parted as a moan forced itself to cry out.

“AHHHHHhhhhhh!!!”

Of course, afterward, all was well that ended well. Mom staggered up to a standing position; her full height yet again gave off an ineffective aura of authority given what had just occurred. One of her bra-overflowing cups was exposed since her dress was dropped down the side of her left shoulder. But she only decided to fix such a mishap with her attire after forcing me into a cleavage-breathing embrace.

“You’re my good boy.” She cooed and played with my hair, “Don’t worry about the groceries, okay, sweetie? I’ll get more tomorrow. Mommy loves you.”

“I love you two,” I tried to say, but her tits muffled every single word. Though, I did manage to abuse the poke trigger by repeatedly pressing my finger in and out of her titflesh without any acknowledgment from her.

Mom fixed her dress, and I tried not to make it obvious that I was eyeing the way she jiggled and hefted her boob back below her dress. She closed up a few of the buttons covering her chest, but stopped low enough that a significant level of cleavage was allowed to breathe.

Fuck, that was a subtle and effective Passive-Trigger.

“Unfortunately,” Mom sighed. “Because of that food going bad, I can’t go through with preparing that vegan meatloaf your sister recommended.”

“Oh, no...” I gave a mock show of surprise.

Ironically, my mother was one of, if not the smartest person I knew. It’s just that these triggers made her appear to be a completely weak-willed oblivious idiot. But I swear, without any of these triggers, her intelligence isn’t something to scoff at. She could usually always tell when Mia and I were up to something, and her P.H.D. in the medical field isn’t just a piece of paper someone can walk into a convenience store and pick up for a few cents.

I say all that because, despite the triggers, she managed to pick up on my sarcastic remark and gave me a knowing look. Luckily, no matter what she’d mentally want or assume, she is literally unable to continue her initial path of punishment or anger. If she were going to get mad at me for something, it couldn’t arise from the groceries.

“Hmmm...” She hummed while eyeing me, “Well, you’ll just have to wait till tomorrow then. As for tonight, I’m a bit tired for some reason... You can warm up some leftovers. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Leftovers?”

Mom’s trek out of the kitchen ended rather abruptly. The mother of three was able to pick up on the tones of distinct voices her children could make and was instinctively put on pause.

“No. No, you can have leftovers,” She turned on her heels, knowing that voice soon led towards me, beseeching her for something more. “There’s more than enough in the fridge. You won’t starve.” Then with a roll of her eyes and crossed arms, she added, “Feel free to order something if you like, but it’s coming out of your pocket.”

“But—” My eyes danced from her eyes down to her bunched up cleavage then up to her eyes before she could notice a lingering gaze.

“That’s final, Ryan.” She said, “I’m willing to forgive you for what happened with the groceries, so don’t push your luck. Don’t get it through your head that I’ll cater to you personally every time you are hungry.” With a shake of her head, she turned to leave. “Take what you can get, and what you can get are leftovers.”

Without any tits in my face, I was able to focus a bit more. Specifically, on the way, her tight dress hugged her body and showed the sexy sway of her hips.

“Mom!” I called to her departing figure, “Can I have—”

I heard a sigh in response, and Mom cut me off with a raised hand, “Don’t bother, Ryan. What I said is final. You can’t change my—” She exited the kitchen and turned the corner out of sight.

“Can I get some takeout?”

Her voice stopped so abruptly that it was almost as if someone had hit the pause button on her. Just a second or two later, she walked back into the room and leaned against the wall, “Of course, you can,” She gave me an affection-ridden smile and tilted her head. “What do you want, sweetie?”

“You see this?!” Mia chimed, “Left, right, right, left. Right, left, left, right!”

“Hmm...” Crystal tapped her lip, brow furrowed unconsciously, while she let out a hum.

Behind her, Mia held a sultry smile, one that curved her lips knowingly; her hips thrust to the beat which she was bouncing to with a vibrant flair. Blonde hair bobbed and swayed against her faint freckle-splattered cheeks. The music nearly carried her body in a set motion; one experienced through time jamming out to its tune. “Bob like this,” her hip swished through the wind to her left, “Then bob like that,” she acted a similar motion, only this time her hips bounced in the opposite direction. “Stretch your back! Annnnnd...” rising on her toes, her voice hitched faintly while her body angled backward. One cute navel was allowed to peek its head from her exposed midriff as Mia’s slim stomach stretched behind herself, thrusting her modestly sized chest outwards in a top-straining manner while doing so. “...thrust on jack!” Mia’s suggestive pose released; she allowed herself to slip down with the sway of gravity while her bouncing chest and short-short clad crotch inched towards an invisible target.

“His name is Jaxson.”

“Really?” Mia tilted her head. Only to roll her eyes a second later, “I was close enough. Whatever, did you get all that? Trust me. Once you master the art, no guy can resist. You were taking notes, right?”

“Uh?” Crystal blinked and glanced down to the large sheet of paper spread atop her desk. “Yeah, sure, sure.”

“Great!” Mia jumped backward. Her arms crossed behind her head; seconds later, she dropped onto her friend’s bed, which she sunk into and bounced atop. Both sizable breasts jiggled in a similar manner to her body which bounced into a steady lounge.. “Your turn!”

“Maybe later,” Crystal brushed off the invitation and quickly jotted something down.

“Maybe late- Hey!” Mei leaned up on her shoulders to stare down at her friend over the swell of her breasts. “You’re the one that wanted me here!” Her knee bent inwards, and her hand slid down an inch at a time to stroke her thigh. “Why am I doing all the work?”

“You’re literally not,” Crystal hummed, her neck craned downwards subtly. The pen held between her fingers danced over the sheet of paper.

Thwap-Thwap-Thwap-Thwap

Crystal’s hand shot up behind her head, and a second later...

Thump

Her fingers wrapped around the solid shape of a bottle. “Good throw,” She said with a genuinely impressed air; her hand moved back in front of herself, and she placed a bottle of hairspray on the table.

“Good catch,” Mia said, only to tilt her head afterward, “Really good catch, how did you—”

“Reflection,” Crystal shrugged.

Mia’s eyes narrowed to a nearly noticeable degree. “Reflection. You were looking down.”

Crystal brushed aside Mia’s point by changing the conversation entirely. “So, check this out.” She gave her friend a look and nodded down to the desk, specifically the sheet she had been writing on.

With an eye roll and a huff, Mia leaned forward and bounced up to her feet. “Check what?” She asked, approaching her friend. Focusing on Crystal’s pointed finger, Mia leaned in to get a better look.

The closeness, or more specifically, the lack of space between the two girls, caused Mia’s breasts to press against the other girl’s shoulder. Naturally, she made an attempt to ignore how pleasant the contact between her squished boobs and her friends was and instead kept her focus glued to the paper.

“This is the itinerary.” Crystal said she didn’t seem to care much about the pair of breasts squishing against her shoulder. “I think I jotted down all of our friends for the invitation, right?”

“Uh...” Mia let her voice linger into a hum as she leaned closer. In reality, it was an excuse to press herself even more so against Crystal. Her friend had a lovely smell to her; if it was perfume, she considered asking for the brand. A part of her wanted to wear it around Ryan to see if it would tempt him into attempting any sniffing thievery. “Okay, I think you got everyone. Wai- Why is Ryan’s name here?”

Crystal blinked. “You two were getting along at school? D- Did you not want him to come?” She grabbed the pen and went to scribble over his name.

“No!” Mia reached out and covered her hand. The action caused her to lean forward to the point that her crotch nearly humped the back of Crystal’s seat. Her breasts both squished and spilled over her friend’s shoulder.

“Okay.” Crystal said flatly, “I ignored it before, but personal space much?”

“Oh,” Her cheeks flushed, “Y- Y- Yeah, right..” She leaned back and coughed awkwardly.

“So you want Ryan in? Or...”

“Well...” Mia spaced out a moment as her thoughts wandered. “S-Sure, I mean, I don’t really care. But if we want more boys, I don’t see why not..”

“Right.” Crystal shook her head. “Anyway, I’m thinking.. one guest per invite.”

“You mean one invite per guest?”

“I—” Crystal opened her mouth, paused, closed her mouth, then opened it again. “They both kinda mean the same thing. I meant every person invited can bring one guest.”

“I’m just joking,” Mia laughed and gave her friend a light-hearted shove. “So what’s that I see about a bikini contest?”

“What?” Crystal asked. She looked at the sheet. “I thought it would be fun. There are no adults, so no rules!”

“But there will be beer?”

“Uhh,” Thinking about it, Crystal hummed. “You’re eighteen, right?”

“Yeah.”

Crystal cracked a smile, “Hell yeah, there’s gonna be beer!”

“Bikini contest, plus beer.” Mia licked her lips. “Cryst you’re going all out!”

“Yeah,” Crystal sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her arms crossed behind her head. “Why do you think there are no adults allowed?”

“Well,” Mia took a step back and subconsciously angled her hip, “What about your parents?”

“I’ll deal with them.” With a stretch and a cute, “mew~” sound, Crystal rolled back up to the desk and pushed the paper aside. She flipped up a panel on the wooden tabletop to reveal a miniature keypad.

Mia couldn’t exactly spot what buttons Crystal punched in with how fast her friend’s fingers moved, but a second later, prompted by a mechanical hum, three sizable monitors shifted up from behind the desk into plain view before the two girls. Crystal grunted silently as she leaned to the side of the desk and retrieved an old and somewhat clunky-looking keyboard. It dropped onto the desk with a thump and the USB plug was promptly pushed into a slot on the desk.

“Okay, so how much did you pay for this?” Mia mumbled. Her eyes couldn’t figure out where to focus when the three large monitors flashed on.

“A lot,” was all Crystal said in response while her fingers danced across the keyboard. “Anyway, so check this out.” The two monitors on the left and right, respectively, held four camera feeds. Seemingly live and stationed around the house.

“That’s not creepy at all.”

“You’re right,” Crystal agreed, seemingly not picking up on the sarcasm, “It’s not creepy! It’s safety. But look—”

BAMMMFFF

In an instant, both girls glanced to the window at the sudden sound of a loud metallic crash.

“What was that?” Mia asked, more so out of instinct than actually expecting an answer.

Crystal, on her part, got up without responding and went towards the window. Mia followed suit, but got partly distracted when she saw her friend lean forward and seemingly reach back to feel up her well-shaped ass. Not that Mia was complaining, Crystal’s rear was certainly defined in those tight jeans, but...

The hand-pulled back from her ass revealed a fancy-looking pair of glasses.

Ah. Well. Now Mia felt somewhat immature for her previous thought.

Crystal placed the glasses cleanly over her eyes. It was slightly odd since she’s sure the girl doesn’t need glasses, but who knew maybe they were some fancy tech thing since she seems to have those in spades.

The sound of arguing voices arose as Mia approached from behind. She looked out the window to see what Crystal had been eyeing. It appeared that a substantial vehicular accident had occurred. Substantial in the way where a large vehicle backed into a much smaller one. In this case, the larger vehicle was a garbage truck, and it looked like it had just rear-ended a plain-looking sedan. Of course, the owner of said sedan was anything but happy; she looked to be a young blonde woman. Mid-twenties if one were to guess. She had just stormed out of her vehicle with a shocked and rightly angered expression glued onto her face. Wearing a yellow tank top, black summer jacket, and flip-flops, she threw off her shades and stormed towards the front portion of the garbage truck, as the truck drivers didn’t seem to have even gotten themselves out of the vehicle.

“Oh my god,” Mia muttered, “You don’t see that every day.”

“You definitely don’t.” Crystal agreed, if somewhat distractedly. She tapped the side of her glasses and looked down in silence. After a brief pause, she shrugged and tapped her glasses one last time. “Well, not our problem!” Jumping up on a dime, Crystal grabbed the black-out curtains surrounding the window and pulled them together, shrouding the room in a sudden veil of shadow. “The county will pay for it.”

“Someone just went from interested to uncaring on a dime.”

Crystal chuckled to herself and flipped the lights. “Would you rather watch some public drama, or...”

“Public drama!” Mia interrupted while reaching for the curtains.

“Fine,” Crystal sighed. “I guess I have to assign the playlist we’ll be running in the jukebox.”

Mia stopped in place. “You know what,” She turned around and flashed her teeth, “I changed my mind. So what’s your opinion on Funk?”

Outside the house, where the sight of the accident had occurred, things were far less optimistic. Specifically for the woman who just realized her new car was rammed into by a careless trash worker.

Maeve didn’t even bother to hide her anger. “Hey, fuckers! Are you guys fucking blind!?” They didn’t bother to look behind them, so why should she give any kind of courtesy?

Like what the hell!?

She hadn’t even parked in the middle of the road or anything god damn close! It’s the middle of the day; what could have these garbage towing fuck asses out here!? Aren’t they supposed to finish their jobs in the fucking mornings?

The complete lack of concern did nothing but fuel Maeve’s comprehensible bitterness to this whole ordeal. She had literally purchased this vehicle two days ago; the whole trip today was nothing more than a joyride for the sake of having a joyride. Just a trip to the mall, nothing noteworthy. And she planned to end her day with some alcohol and friends. Now her peaceful night is interrupted by this truck’s incompetence.

What nerve do they have to rear-end her and not even bother to exit the vehicle to see if she’s okay? Or assess the damage at the very least. Someone is getting fired; her insurance better not skyrocket due to some bozos being drunk on the fucking job.

“Hello!??” She banged her hand against the side of the truck while storming towards the driver’s seat. At some point in her anger, she had released her jacket over the front of her car, leaving her bare shoulders and tank-top clad beasts to be exposed to the sun.

Just great. She needed to be beaten down by the heat.

Her eyes rolled.

“Hello!???? Fuck assess!?” Maeve didn’t really care much about how much her stomping had an effect on her jiggling chest; really, the only interest was getting the attention of whatever fucker caused this whole shit storm. “What pussies do you have to be to fuck up my car and not even show your fucking faces!?”

Upon reaching the front, she placed one hand on her hip near the exposed motion of her midriff and knocked quite hard on the door. She could clearly see a gruff-ass-looking bitch of a man who was peering down.

She shouldn’t be surprised some dumbass minimum wage working trash asshole would be the one to ruin her day like this. If anyone would pull this shit, it’d be a guy like this fucker.

“Hey A-S-S-H-O-L-E—!” She raised her voice to help vocalize each word. “Do you want me to call the cops if you’re going to hide in there like fucking pussies?”

The man looked over to her through the window. It looks like her threat of police interference was the only thing that could get this idiot’s attention.

He reached down for something, and the window lowered slowly with a soft hum.

Now with a better look, she could see he certainly was a gruff fucker of a man. A random splatter of shaved chin hair, a slightly pudgy look, yeah, he’d be a fucking trash man. Probably had a dad bod behind that door.

With his attention in hand, Maeve placed both hands on her hips and scowled at the man. It looked like there was someone else in the truck too, but honestly, she didn’t care who to direct her anger towards, but someone was going to pay for what happened.

She opened her mouth, fully ready to chew him a new one. But before a word could escape, he spoke up.

“Hold on a moment.” He said and raised up a weird ball-looking thing that appeared glossy and reflected the sun’s natural light off it.

Was that a fucking billiard ball?

The hell?

Maeve shook her head. She wasn’t about to let him whip out whatever knickknacks he keeps in his fuck stash and attempt to distract her.

“Yo—” was what she began to say before the billiard ball’s angle was adjusted so that the number on the front was visible. Her eyes noticed the number “4” painted on the front of the ball and...

Everything went dark.

Naturally, Ryan was pretty hungry, to say the least. And with his perversion temporarily sated due to the assistance of my oh so oblivious mother, I was free to focus on nothing else but the dying grumble stirring in the depths of my stomach.

Or in simple man terms...

FUCK, I’M HUNGRY!

So it was safe to say that when the food did arrive, I swooped down on it like a fucking fucker in a fuck fest. Whatever that means is up to you to decide.

I took the bag of food from the deliveryman and threw back some assortment of change. Honestly, I hadn’t cared enough to look over how much I had just tossed away. Regardless, Mom was my personal bank, so it wasn’t like money would necessarily be an issue.

Now, apparently, my mad rush to force food down my gullet had made enough noise to gather the attention of my mother.

“So your food’s here, honey?”

Mom entered the kitchen, having dressed into more casual wear. Rest in peace to that hot dress, though she has a knack of making anything appear sexy as fuck, so this wasn’t much of a downgrade. It was a simple purple blouse and jeans combo. Except, the sheer size of her bust made a quite noticeable “assertion” which defined the shape of her bosom in correlation to the fit figure beneath said rack. It goes without saying she had a healthy show of cleavage on display as well, not like she was aware of such a fact.

She opened the fridge, obstructing my appreciation of her chest, but only served to switch that appreciation towards her round ass, one that was clutched dangerously tightly by the clothing she chose to wear. God, just looking at her fat pair of cheeks had me reimagine the memory of just an hour ago.

I wonder if it still stings.

“I hope you enjoy it because my leniency towards eating out won’t last forever.” Mom delivered a warning while sticking her butt out and shifting through the fridge. “We have enough food here that you’re doing yourself no favors eating that junk.” As if to prove her point, to come out with a bag of spinach. “I’ll put together a salad?” She hummed, “You want one?”

“Haha..” I laughed in response, “No thanks.” My stomach growled, and instantly, I was back on the bag.

Mom rolled her eyes and retrieved some more vegetables. “You’re going to have some tomorrow. I don’t care if I have to order you to have one.” She turned with the items in hand and went to the opposing counter. “Your health is important, you know.”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered while biting down on an eggroll that I just ripped out of its little packet.

She began going on one of her tirades about how important food is to a growing boy’s body and bla bla bla. Frankly, I wasn’t too interested in what she was saying. This Chinese food was far more appealing.

Though, out of curiosity, I happened to glance back. And my eyes naturally focused on her ass which was swaying side to side as she pruned away at her food.

Well fuck my ass and call me a fucker.

I know I just abused that ass. But it’s calling to me. Those jeans were tight enough that I could clearly make the fat rump “hidden” beneath her clothing. There’s no point in it being on, right?

“Hey Mom, I think you’re right.”

“Oh really?” She responded without looking back at me. Her tone oozed, knowing sarcasm. “So should I pretend to be stupid enough to believe that, or—”

“Anyway. I can help you with the laundry if you want.”

“Oh~” The faint and repeating sounds of her knife chopping came to an instant stop. Her lips parted open as her eyes spaced off towards the wall in front of her, and a faint exhale excited as her eyes grew glossy. “Sure, honey!” She placed down the knife and turned to face me with a smile on her lips. “That’s awfully sweet of you,”

Heh, so easily affected by triggers without an ounce of an idea towards what’s happening... maybe you are stupid, Mom.

Right in front of my prying eyes, she stepped away from the counter and leaned down to a ninety degree angle as her fingers inched their way between the tight hold of her jeans and the squishy flesh of her ass. The clothing began to peel down her round rump before her bubbly ass jiggled free while the thick thighs above her well-built legs were exposed from the removal of her pants.

“Here you are, sweetie.” She leaned back up to hold out a freshly worn pair of panties for me to “wash” freely.

“Thanks!” I said and sprang up to my feet to claim the prize at hand.

Upon taking it, I noticed something that was certainly a jaw-dropper. It was damp, as in, sweat-ridden warn all fucking day damp. I could smell an aura of Mom’s crotch musk by raising it a bit to my face. Fuck, that’s hot. Figuratively and literally, seeing as it was still warm.

I had assumed she changed panties along with her clothes, but I guess she decided she’d wait until the day way over and kept this sucker on.

Well, better for me. Since she had a long day, a hot one to boot, this bad boy can do wonders around my dick.

Mom began to put her pants back on, and I was snapped out of my stooper.

I hadn’t used this trigger just to get her panties. Though, it was certainly a plus.

“Mom, wait.”

“Hold on,” Mom said, stepping into the piece of clothing.

She wouldn’t stop on her own accord. Not surprising. It’s not like the trigger instructs her to stay undressed. She just needed to do so to provide me with her underwear. But regardless of whether she has the desire to put her clothes back on or not, I learned that triggers seem to always take priority. No matter the situation.

“I- I have something I cooked for you, Mom!” I blurted, “Can you try it out, please?”

Mom stopped. The pants hadn’t even made it past her ankle. “Did you?” She dropped the paints and looked up, her eyes grew washed right before my eyes, and she let out another quiet sigh as the trigger took hold. “That is incredible, Ryan!” With the pants seemingly forgotten and entirely bottomless, Mom closed in towards me. Each step caused a faint ripple to pass over her boobs and wrapped me into a hug.

I managed to say something, though it was muffled by a face-full of cleavage, so... so I guess it didn’t matter.

Anyway, she gave me a kiss on the forehead and stroked my neck as she looked up and around. “Where is it, sweetie?”

“Right,” I pondered. “Uh, it’s...” Well, seeing as I hadn’t thought this far ahead, I was wondering what she could eat that would take enough time to leave her bottomless for a bit while I enjoyed my own meal.

Oh snap.

Right.

My meal.

“Yeah, it’s right here, Mom.” As much as I hated doing so, I had to pull my face out of her cleavage and go over to the bag of Chinese Takeout. Right in front of her loving eyes, I pulled out a large box of rice and dropped it on the table right beside my seat. It clearly held the marking of the restaurant that actually made it, along with it having been retrieved from their bag. Oh, and she paid for it herself.

So...

Only an absolute dumbass would believe the shit I was spewing. But, the triggers held my intelligent mother by the nipples, and they weren’t ready to let go anytime soon.

“You made that yourself!?” Mom gasped. The triggers playing her for a fool. “Honey, that is incredible!” She gave me another kiss, this time on the cheek, and took a seat right beside me.

I took note of the slight wince she made upon sitting; she slightly adjusted that fat ass of hers.

“Could you get me a plate and a fork, sweetie?”

Staring at her thick lap and the bubbly ass that squished onto the seat from her body weight, I was left with not much brain function than to merely let out a nod.

I left and came back with the requested items in hand; Mom promptly took it and placed it in front of her before emptying the entire box of rice onto the plate.

Okay, well. Since I can turn my mother into my own personal sugar mama who buys me whatever food I want, I went all out and made sure she got the family size of everything. Clearly, it wasn’t meant to be eaten by one person in a single seating. But the trigger didn’t leave her with much in the form of options here, so she was going to eat it all or die trying.

Really, my main concern was her gaining too much weight; that was a ton of fucking rice. And currently, she has the perfect mix of thick where it counts and fit where it’s attractive. But she works out routinely every day, and if the weight went to her tits and ass, I wouldn’t argue.

Still, I’d need to get some for myself. But, at the very least, It would leave her here topless for a good while.

Mom took a large forkful of food, and her face beamed. After swallowing, she looked at me with a love-filled smile. “My son made this? For me?!” She took another bite and seemed to shudder from the flavor. “You are amazing, honey. I mean it!”

I soaked in the praise. Why wouldn’t I? I mean, you heard it from her. I am amazing.

“It’s whatever,” I tried to shrug off her compliment. But she insisted.

“MMmgh-Nom.. Mrreally!” She spoke with a mouthful of rice, something she’d chastise me for doing if she caught me in the act. “This is TOO good. You must tell Mommy your secret!”

While she was distracted with the food, I was similarly distracted by the way her large rack squished against the tabletop. It jostled around as she was flooded by the flavor washing through her. A single bit of rice fell off her fork as I was staring at her rack. It dropped down onto her tits and scattered down out of sight into her dark cave of cleavage.

Okay. I got her bottomless, next mission.

Operation, toppless.

Before I began my quest, I decided to take a bite of some food. Now, unfortunately, it was a distracted bite, meaning I was undoubtedly not paying attention to whatever I threw in my mouth.

Not that you could blame me. I mean, look at her tits!

Come on...

Anyway,

Yeah.

That was a fucking mistake.

Because moments later, my mouth exploded with fire.

“FUCK!” I shouted and sprang up. The culprit of such a sudden attack...was a single half-eaten pepper resting on my plate.

Suffice to say, my eyes were tearing up, and I was in a frantic dash to fix this sudden mouth-burning issue.

In my mother’s case, despite the trigger affecting her, the woman’s instant reaction was to chastise me for cussing so openly. But instantly, her maternal instincts (unmotivated by any triggers) went into action, and she stood up to comfort me.

“Ryan! Ryan! You’re okay. You’re okay, honey. It was just a pepper,” She tried not to laugh at my plight. “Don’t drink water,” Opening the fridge while chiding me, she retrieved a bottle of milk.

She wordlessly dragged my face away from the sink and handed me a glass of milk she had just poured.

After pressing the glass to my face and chugging the contents, the fire died down along with the milk, and I was able to think straight again as my sanity returned. “Oh...oh my god,” I breathed.

Mom stood behind me, her hand rubbed against my back, but she was close enough that her breasts were making light contact with me as she breathed. “You need to pay attention, Ryan.” She chided, “Also, you are very sensitive to peppers. I have no idea why, but I went against giving them to you growing up for a reason. This always happens.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Yeah... I...” my eyes trailed back briefly, where I took a quick glance towards her large bust directly beside me. The teasing feeling of her boobs brushing my back had my thoughts wander.

“You what?” Mom tilted her head. He saw me looking at the jug of milk, “Do you need more?”

“Milk?” I asked, somewhat distractedly.

“Well,” She blinked, “Yes.”

“I do...” I said, just as an idea came into my head.

I fished out my phone and took a quick picture of the milk jug.

“Okay, Ryan...” Mom’s eyes narrowed slightly. As I said, she’s a pretty sharp individual. Regardless of what the triggers would have you believe. If her kids are up to something, she’ll know. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing much,” I said while fishing through my gallery for the picture I had just taken.

“Uh-Huh,” Her voice oozed doubt. She cocked her hip. “Then—”

I found the picture.

“Do you remember who you are?”