The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Britney was sore. And Britney was tired. It felt like she had been tied to her reclining chair for hours or days— and she wondered, also, if she was going to throw up.

She’d had to watch in full detail as her mother had taken her sister’s virginity— what was projected on the wall had shown all possible angles of the violation, sometimes overlapping one over the other— and she’d had to hear all the awful things her mother had said as she’d undertaken this violation. It made Britney queasy, it had made her queasy, and now she was left sitting here— still feeling queasy in the aftermath.

Kenzie had at first been vocal— when their mother had come in, she had argued with her, said hatred— and she’d still been vocal as she’d been violated by her mother’s thrusts.

But Mother had gone on fucking Kenzie— and she know seemed to have fucked her into a kind of compliance— and some time ago, Kenzie had sagged loosely into her chair— and her eyes had taken on something of a glaze— she had not made any sound for a considerable period— all that was happening in the area of her mouth was a beading of drool— which was yet another angle that was offered up for Britney to watch in the projected footage. A bead of saliva gathering up at the corner of her sister’s glistening lips— then slowly running down the side of her jaw; shown in extreme closeup.

Britney didn’t understand the brainwashing, what it did to her brain— didn’t understand how it worked, didn’t feel like she even understood her body anymore. But the fact was, despite her queasy feelings, her soreness, her exhaustion, and her desire to be any other place in the world besides this room— her pussy was still hungry and craving.

Even as she dreaded what was likely to be the source of her next orgasm.

Finally, Mother dismounted Kenzie, and kissed her long on the lips, seeming to further drug her with pleasure. The footage showed this too, the connection of their lips while it happened, then the sticky separation that took place as it ended.

Mother spoke directly to Kenzie.

“You’re thoroughly brainfucked, now, daughter. Mommy’s brainfucked you. You still feel disgusted with what you have to do, but you can’t deny that you enjoy it too. Just keep watching the footage, sweetie. You can’t resist how it brainwashes you more. Every image grabs your mind and brainwashes, brainfucks it just as powerfully as Mommy did with her dildo.

“And right now, you’re just feeling so comatose with pleasure, all you can do is just sit there and stare, and watch what the footage shows you.”

The footage was showing Kenzie’s eyes right then. They seemed to have glazed three times over beyond the level of glaze they had held before. Showing Kenzie how hopelessly brainfucked she was, Britney thought— a horrible recursive loop. Kenzie saw her brainfucked eyes and the image of those brainfucked eyes worsened her brainfucked state— then that worsened state showed in her eyes again, and seeing she was worse made her worse— and then she saw it was worse and it made her worse— with just the image of her Kenzie’s eyes shown to Kenzie herself, Britney had no idea how Kenzie could ever pull herself back out of that long fall downwards. It only fed into itself.

Mother pulled away from Kenzie, leaving her sitting there in a brainfucked daze. She came to stand astride Britney’s restrained recline, a hand on either hip— her dildo jutting out proudly, her nipplechains jangling down to the point of connection that joined them to the dildobase.

“It’s your turn, Brit,” Mother said. “Time to be brainfucked. Time to let Mommy take your brainwashing so much deeper. You see how Kenzie is now— her brainwashing is essentially complete. In all the years we will live together, Kenzie’s brainwashing can always deepen— but the ability to resist at all has been completely ground out of her. It’s time to grind your resistance out of you.”

Britney felt tears pricking her eyes. She shook her head, keeping her lips pressed together. She wasn’t like Kenzie, she didn’t like making vocal outbursts. Her secret hope was that she could resist internally, and successfully escape this, unbrokendown.

“Look at Mommy’s dildo, Kenzie— Mommy needs you to help her first. What do you see?”

Irresistibly, Britney’s eyes went down.

The dildo was a purple monstrosity— Britney had seen that before, when she’d had to watch such intimate angles of it about to invade Kenzie’s pussy.

But she had never seen it before and known it was about to come into her. The synthetic veins, the too-large size, all of that had stayed the same. There was something different, now, however.

The dildo was coated in both the blood and come that it had drawn from Kenzie’s pussy. And that didn’t look entirely sanitary— and Britney had a sinking feeling that she already had a guess as to how Mother wanted to be helped.

“Be a good familyfucking slut for Mommy,” Mother said, “and lick Mommy’s dildo off so she can put it in you.”

Britney shook her head slowly— but her eyes were still stuck on that dildo— she hadn’t been given another command after being told to look at it, so she was still looking.

“Britney,” Mother snapped. “You can’t resist. You forget how.”

Somehow Mother’s words were so intense; they made Britney feel like her whole skull shook from the force of them— and when Mother said them, they were the only thing inside Britney’s mind that she could hear.

Her jaw fell open, and her tongue peeked out.

Mother nodded to herself. “That’s a good slut,” she encouraged Britney— Britney whimpered when her pussy leaked in response.

Mother knelt astride Britney higher than she had ever kneeled on Kenzie— why did Britney feel herself take smug satisfaction in that? Did she want to be Mother’s favorite sexual plaything? She’d never wanted to be Mother’s favorite daughter, when her relation to Mother had still been healthy, unincestuous. Why should she want favoritism now, and why want a favoritism that was so ghastly?

Mother pushed the dildo into Britney’s mouth. She wasn’t thinking about it anymore.

“As you lick,” Mother said, “It feels like you are licking up a substance that is drugging you. Making you docile. It isn’t really happening— you know it isn’t— but I’ve said these words to make it happen psychologically for you, and you can’t break free of that.”

The taste in Britney’s mouth was tangy. She was licking up her sister’s blood— her sister’s come— she would taste her sister’s come again, if their Mother had anything to say about it— if she was forced to lick her sister, like the earlier sisters on screen had done— then she would have to— she’d be tasting this taste again. The blood of Kenzie’s virginity, that would only be tasted once— but the blood of Kenzie’s come— it might become a habitual flavor, and Britney hated that she knew what Kenzie’s come tasted like.

And Britney creamed between her thighs.

Britney licked. She understood what she was tasting. That it was only the products of her sister’s body. But she was experiencing a different reality in her brain no matter how she argued with herself. She was licking up a drugged, docile feeling. Hating what happened, and feeling lighter.

By the time Mother pulled the dildo out from between Britney’s lips, she was feeling dopey and drifty— even moreso than the pleasure had made her before. Was this how it happened? Had all her resistance gone already? Would it ever come back?

She’d thought she would feel resistive forever— thought she’d be bitter and angry, forever, even if it was held corrosively inside and never projected outward. And yet now she felt numb. Was she going to stay numb? She still didn’t know enough, about the world, about what was possible— not enough, anyway, to guess how things would play out, to guess what would happen next in this unknown.

Britney wasn’t the only thing that had been changed by her dildonursing. That term— Mother must have whispered it without her fully hearing it— and now it was in her brain— her dildonursing— it had numbed her out, but it had also cleaned off the dildo. It shone with spit, but it was clean now, there was nothing on it aside from Britney’s mouthmoisture.

Mother shifted her knees off of Britney’s armrests— having them there had knocked Britney’s arms forcefully to the outersides of the armrests, which had created a bit of a straining feeling, a feeling of being pushed uncomfortably and made more sore. Now Mother’s knees were astride Britney’s hips— and Mother dropped her own hipset down, so the dildo was poised at Britney’s opening.

Realizing what was about to happen to her broke through the numbness and Britney began pulling desperately at her restraints.

“No, Mommy, no! It’s too perverted— please it’s too perverted, Mommy but why… my pussy is dripping when I think it’s going to happen.”

Mother nudged the tip of the dildo into Britney’s channel. “You’re Mommy’s good slut already, Brit.” Mother placed a kiss on her hair. “Keep telling Mommy how bad this is.”

Britney’s eyes were tearing. Now they teared in pain— Mother was pushing the dildo into her with repeating thrusts of her hips. “It’s perverted, Mommy, it’s so bad— I hate it— I never want it happen to me again, I don’t want it to be happening to me now, I wish it could have been a man— I wish I could have found my husband out there somewhere in the world. I always used to dream about him, even with his face indistinct— I wish I could have found him, and married him— I wish he had been the one to do this.”

Mother smiled. “But I’m the one who gets to do this.”

The tearing of Kenzie’s hymen had seemed fast; Britney had known when it happened because pretty immediately the footage had showed some blood leaking out around the dildo. A few pumps of Mother’s hips, and it had been done.

The tearing of Britney’s hymen felt slow. Like it was slowly being pulled apart. Nudged a little further— then a dull ache— nudged a little further, a duller ache— Mother was being patient now.

“This is not your hymen, Britney,” Mother said now, and her voice was coaxing. It didn’t need to be, because the second she said it, Britney believed it with all her heart. It wasn’t her hymen, it was whatever Mother would say it was.

“I know it feels like your hymen—” and for a moment, it did— “but really, it’s all the resistance you have left— all the resistance you were ever capable of, all the resistance you will ever be capable of— that’s what’s so tight in you, that’s what’s holding me back, keeping me from plunging as deeply as you need me to, keeping me from plunging your sluthole just as deeply as you need Mommy to.”

It was her resistance, then— made physical in her body— a long barrier that was being constantly prodded, that was constantly aching. And when Mother said that too, it became true— she had a sluthole and she needed it plunged. She could be resentful. She could hate that. But she was addicted now. She needed more pleasure, she couldn’t be without it, she was only a being full of sexual appetites now, those appetites must be fed— Mother could feed them, but she wasn’t yet— Britney’s resistance was holding her back, preventing her.

“Take me, Mommy,” Britney found herself speaking. She didn’t want to say it but she couldn’t stop it The addiction had consumed her. It felt like it was possessing her. “Take me, Mommy, and tear my resistance apart forever.”

The granting of this request was immediate— Mother drew her dildo back, and then with all the force of her muscles, shoved the dildo in.

It shredded Britney’s barrier, burst through her resistance. Britney shrieked, but everything that had happened made perfect sense to her. Her resistance had manifested physically, so it was connected to things that could bleed. And she felt the blood flooding out around the dildo— it reminded her of something else she had seen, but she couldn’t remember what.

Her entire pussy felt like it was aching, but then Mother was so deeply into her, sunken into her to the hilt, to the base of her dildo where the nipplechains connected, and Britney grunted— the pain of the resistance tearing, that had hurt, but now it felt so good to be stuffed full.

“You’ll be a good girl for Mommy now, if I release your restraints?”

Britney nodded hurriedly. Her mind had gone beyond language. She couldn’t argue with how she craved this. She knew it was wrong— somehow that only made it hotter, now. More addictive— an experience she wanted to glut on.

Mother held still inside her— untied the armrests, untied all other restrains— Britney could move her limbs again.

Then Mother started to grind the dildo deeply into her. Dildogrinding was what happened now— Britney sobbed from how good it felt, that fullness, that present pressure, filling her so much— and then it rubbed, it dragged along things hidden far back inside, and Britney twitched, and when Britney writhed, Mother only drove into her hard her, drove fast, drove the dildo in with greater speed and depth and force.

“Fuck Mommy back, now. Clench on the dildo— make the base pull Mommy’s nipplechains. You can watch them, and see what you accomplish.”

Mother drove inside her again. When she was into the furthest point— when Britney realized she could feel the nub beneath the dildo which the chains attached too, Britney clenched on it— and the chains pulled, and the bars through of each of Mother’s nipples pulled down through them— so the tops were of the bars were each flush to nipple— and there was a new burst of pleasure when Britney released the clutch she had been instructed to enact— and a new burst of pleasure as Mother dragged the dildo back out— then as she drove it back in.

Britney clenched when Mother was in all the way— made the chains tug down again with just the spasming of her cunt.

Wrong. Perverse. Still perverse. She knew it in her head but her body knew it as pleasure— and she and Mother were in a rhythm now, equally participants, Britney humping and straining to take Mother deeper, so she could clench more, make the chains tug harder. She was having greater success each repeating time.

And it was giving her greater pleasure every time. When the pleasure greatened, it took her focus, she was compulsively seeking it, like the addict she had become, like the addict her mother had made her be.

It seemed to Britney that her mother was just as addicted as she was herself— it was in her thrusts, they were such desperate, driving thrusts— she needed to fuck as much as Britney needed to fuck.

Britney’s eyes were on the chains connecting to Mother’ s nipples— she liked watching them tug— liked watching Mother’s nipplebars slide. There were such pretty, glittering bars and her eyes loved to focus on them— and when her eyes focused on them, her mind seemed to become foggier.

The thought that repeated in it, the thought she always knew, was how guilty she was, how shameful— to fuck her own mother, to want to— but that fog seemed to pull her mind farther from her— it forced her lower into her body, below her head. Thinking was still happening up there, the things known were still known up there, but she was lower than there, she was down low, curled up in bodily sensations, enjoying every movement, every bit of stimulation.

The bars glittered— the chains pulled— thoughtlessly, Britney put her hands out, wrapping a grip around each chain in wonder— she thrust her hips like she was driving her entire pelvis up, fully arching her back off the recliner every time— her mother thrust down with everything, and she thrust up, but now she pulled and played with the chains, which made Mother grunt and hump her harder— Britney felt her eyes widen. Then it seemed the image of the bars was coming more fully into her head. Then the fog that had settled over her mind seemed to elevate higher above her— widening the gap of separation, driving her to curl in further to the sensations— the fucking had become something else, something no longer constrained by the bounds of time. It continued— that was all Britney could say about it, it was wrong, it continued, it always gave her more arousal and it never stopped turning her to a hotter and hotter degree— it was always doing more for her, the sensations always felt better and better— and the fucking continued.

Until it didn’t. Some unnameable period of time later, Mother finally dismounted Britney— dismount. At some point, Mother must have said it— mounting and dismounting— for now it was a natural language term in Britney’s head, one she had never known before, one she had never earlier used in this context.

Kenzie’s eyes still had that dazed-over and glazed look. Mother untied her restraint without even asking Kenzie if she would be good.

“You’re both Mommy’s good brainwashed daughters now. You know you can never resist anything Mommy wants to do to you.”

“We hate it, we don’t want to be your sexual puppets— but we can’t resist you.” Somehow, Kenzie and Britney had ended up saying the same sentence together, each word spoken perfectly aligning with each work spoken by the other.

“Stand up,” Mother said.

Both daughters, now unrestrained together, stood from their recliners.

“Mommy loves that you are her brainwashed daughtersluts. But she also wants you to be brainwashed sistersluts. And the instance wants that too. So Mommy is going to help you become brainwashed sistersluts in the same way she helped you become brainwashed daughtersluts. She’s going to brainwash you some more.”

Both Britney and Kenzie drew in a shocked breath. Their brainwashed minds were still moving slowly, after such an onslaught of brainwashing they’d had— at least that was the explanation that made sense to Britney. It should have been obvious Mother would do this next— but neither one of them had expected it— it seemed to Britney that both their attitudes of surprise were genuine, not affected responses to Mother’s statement.

“Mommy,” Britney said, her voice a little tremulous. “Please don’t brainwash us anymore. Our minds are so tired,” she whined.

Mother flashed a sharp-toothed smile. “Tired minds are brainwashable minds, Britney. If Mommy wants to brainwash you into being a ravenous sisterfucking slut, in addition to the motherfucking slut you already are, can you resist her?”

Britney sighed. Hating it and craving it in equal measure. “No,” she grumbled.

Mother nodded, satisfied with that answer. “I’ve broken your minds that much at least.” It was more of a statement said to herself.

She looked at Kenzie then.

“I want you to lie down on the labfloor a few paces in front of the recliners.”

Kenzie’s whole body jerked, responding to having been given a command. It was a jerking, halting movement. It immediately made Britney lubricate. Sister was that brainwashed.

Britney was that brainwashed.

And the truth of their inability to resist was total. After jerking in response— her mind temporarily overwhelmed by being commanded, Kenzie took two steps forward, then got onto her knees— then rolled herself onto her back.

“You’re going to fuck Kenzie, Britney— while Mommy’s fucking you. Mommy can fuck you into fucking Kenzie right— then once you’ve learned enough, you’ll lie on the floor and it will be Kenzie’s turn.”

Britney shuddered in distaste. And lubricated her pussy wetter.

“First, lie down against her body.”

Britney felt her own body jerk. For the moment she listened to her order of obedience, it was like it shorted out her mind. Like a mini-orgasm had happened, just in her brain, and temporarily overwritten everything else.

Then her body was moving in the strides of obedience. She stepped to where Kenzie lay, couldn’t have stopped her body if she had desperately wanted to— there wasn’t much resistance left in her, after all. She could remember how Mother had torn it from her body painful and bleeding.

Standing over Kenzie, Britney knelt, and then lay herself body to body on Kenzie. They had been synchronized in speech before, and now they were bodily synchronized. Breasts heavy on breasts. Hips heavy on hips. Pussy heavy on pussy. Britney knew she must have been forcing Kenzie into the floor, but Kenzie pillowed Britney’s entire body so comfortably.

Both Britney and Kenzie moaned from the pleasure overload— the pleasure overload of four nipples touching, two pussies smushing, four breasts impressing— and together they both writhed in that moan, Kenzie shifting a little left, Britney shifting a little right. If someone had watched from the ceiling— and was the instance watching from there? — it would have looked like something down by artistic design, to things moving the same way, in opposite directions, in parallel. Aesthetically pleasing.

“It feels good to press your slutbodies together,” Mother said from over them. “You already can’t resist the way your bodies need to feel and express pleasure. That’s so good. You’re being so good for Mommy. But there’s more to being a brainwashed slutty sisterfucking whore than just moaning and writhing the moan out once. Let Mommy show you.”

Britney sensed Mother kneeling behind her, but did not look back at her.

“You need to press your breasts harder into Kenzie’s breasts now, Britney. When you do it will give you leverage to cant your pussy up so Mommy can penetrate you deep.”

Britney jerked again, flush against Kenzie, and Kenzie moaned. Her breasts pressed in, and both Britney and Kenzie let out a shriek because their nipples were so sensitive— and were now burrowing deeply into each other, every second trying to stiffen in arousal and only pressing deeper into each other.

The breastflesh that forced inwards into breastflesh similarly washed both sisters full of pleasure.

But as Mother had predicted, when Britney’s breasts went down into Kenzie’s, her hips tilted up— and the second her pussy was presented, she felt her mother’s ridged and curving dildo brush her pussy lips, then brush her pussyhole.

Her breasts were full of ecstasy— it was hard to hold still— and when her Mother thrust all the way into her, in one thrust, Britney couldn’t resist the yelp that her body required her to make— she yelped.

Yet once Mother was all the way inside, something felt different this time.

“Mommy,” she said, worriedly. “I feel like I have to piss.”

She shuddered again at saying such a crude word, a word she wouldn’t have needed to say before— but somehow, it also felt right.

Mother rocked her hips again— the dildo came in, in that different feeling way again. “It’s not urine, Britney. Mommy’s hitting your g-spot. It makes your pussy need to squirt. You’ll reach the point where the need to void that squirting will be irresistible— Mommy’s just going to keep fucking you until your body takes care of itself on its own. Then Mommy will fuck you some more.”

“S—quirt—” Britney echoed feebly. Mother had rocked her hips in again— there was more pressure in that squirtneeding-place, but her body hadn’t let it go— everything felt so funny inside her when Mother fucked that specific spot; it had shorted her brain again— a mini-orgasm in her head, even while her body had not quite gotten back to feeling the ecstasy she had known before.

“Lift your hips a little more— so you can reach a hand down between your sister’s legs.”

Mother thrust inside— a mini-orgasm in her mind— a building of that squirtplace pressure— her body already hijacked, immediately moving to comply before her awareness fully came back. The knowledge that this was so reprehensible— and delicious.

She had gotten her hand down— the angle she had it positioned had her basically lying on her own arm. She could feel her pussy against it— could feel her sister’s body against it too.

Mother thrust— her mind burst in another one of those controltaking-orgasms. That was the wash— Britney was sure— each time that control was taken, it meant Mother had spilled cleansing water through her thoughts again, washing them out, leaving something cleaner behind after that water had passed.

There was water building inside her too. Low in her— in the squirting-place…

“Now,” Mother said. “Put as many of your fingers as you can fit in your sister’s pussy. If you need to, clench your fingers together, and press your thumb to the center of them.

A thrust. A wash through her mind— the mental orgasm forced from her— it was wrong, and her fingers were already positioned as they needed to be.

And then the whole gathering of her clenched fingers was entering her sister’s pussy, penetrating— her sister was so wet and open, in— in— and every time Mother thrust, for that second, Britney’s brain turned off, and she was only a thing with one directive, desperate to put her hand inside her sister’s most private place.

Britney was in her sister halfway up the back of her own hand— it felt good, so satisfying in the way her sister’s pussy clenched.

“Mouth on your sister’s mouth, Britney. Kiss her sloppy. Make out against her like you are making love to her body, to her lips, with your own. At the same time work your hand. Thrust it in and out. Rotate your hand. Furl and unfurl your fingers.”

Her body was already doing all these things as soon as they were said. She felt like she had when she’d fucked Mother back before. Actively participating, made wild by it, hungry for more of it.

And when she kissed Kenzie, Kenzie kissed her back. Their tongues knotted together, slithered, turned over each other, slopped— every time they touched, it gave Britney pleasureshocks— every time their lips slipped, it gave Britney pleasureshocks. It felt like they were having sex with their mouths, sloppy and dirty.

And Kenzie’s pussy around her hand— it was the best feeling— she kept her hand twisting, pressing more into one side of Kenzie’s vagina, then the other. She opened her fingers, felt Kenzie’s velvet softness, closed them again.

Kenzie cried out, breaking the kiss.

“It feels like a flower is opening— your fingers are petals— they’re opening to the sun, they’re closing, they’re— Mommy!” Kenzie shouted, apparently seeking mercy, seeking cessation from the person who was orchestrating all of this.

“It’s natural to have an orgasm in response to what your sister does to you, Kenzie. Don’t fight it. Let your body succumb to orgasmic pleasure.”

Kenzie jerked— at first from the command, Britney was sure— but then she was in the cascade of orgasm, jerking in that. Britney kept petaling her fingers, furling and unfurling them— Kenzie kept jerking, kept coming— Britney went back to making love with Kenzie’s mouth through use of her own.

“Now start squirming on each other. Let yourselves writhe in every direction.”

Kenzie hadn’t stopped orgasming— Britney thought this would only propel Kenzie’s orgasm further. It was starting to turn Britney’s own body on more, too.

It just felt too incredible. She squirmed on Kenzie and Kenzie squirmed beneath her— they rolled together, shifted together, twisting in all directions, twisting to bring in all new angles. New parts of their bodies touched each other in new ways, and both of them kept moving, so languidly, so sweatily, for they had started to sweat— panting— still making love between their mouths, Britney still fucking Kenzie with her hand.

And their Mother kept speaking over them, as she kept thrusting into Britney, forcing her body to build more pressure inside, as she kept hitting that particular spot.

“Sisterfucking is irresistible,” Mother said in the voice of truth. “You can’t do anything but let it make you feel good. There are so many ways you want to enjoy doing it. It is your new addiction that you crave after. That you will love for. That controls you. You want to fuck your sister. You always want to fuck yourself. You want to fuck your sister in every imaginative way you can think of.”

Kenzie was still coming. Britney felt like she was trapped inside an erotic dream, moving too languidly still, as she and Kenzie writhed.

Then Mother thrust into her, and she lost all control of herself. Mother had fucked her body past the point of control. The pressure was unbearable, uncontainable, irrepressible. Her lips broke from Kenzie’s.

“Mommy,” Britney squealed. “I’M SQUIRTINNNNNNNGGGG!”

A long stream of fluid squirted out of her. The ecstasy was beyond her capacity for language. It made her body limp when it left her— and what she’d squirted had gone all over her arm, all over Kenzie’s pussy, had made Kenzie twitch a few more times in orgasm.

Then both of them were limp. Britney’s hand still in Kenzie’s pussy, but not moving. Kenzie still twitching irregularly.

They were sisterfuckers now. Two sisterfucking sluts— two sistersluts who were also daughtersluts. It was so wrong, and inescapable.

“Are we done now?” Britney asked, tiredly. “Are you done brainwashing us? Are the three of us all free to live our perverted lives together now? Can we leave the lab?”

“Not quite,” Mother said. “The instance wanted to give Kenzie some firsthand programming. Until then, Britney, it’s your turn underneath Kenzie.”