The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mary—unsurprisingly—tried to tempt me into another round, but I didn’t know when Belle would be getting back, so I instead had a quick shower and went straight to bed. After the events of the day (and my recent slumber shortage) I fell asleep immediately, and it felt like moments later when I awoke to the sight of the sun streaming through my window, and the smell of bacon cooking downstairs; one of the few dishes my daughter can actually cook.

Sure enough, my wife’s body was flitting around the kitchen, and she smiled as I entered. For a moment, I wondered if they’d switched back early, but as soon as she clumsily started trying to transfer the eggs onto plates, I knew that I was witnessing my daughter’s attempt at making breakfast.

“This looks delicious,” I said, and look of pride on her face warmed my heart.

I was most of the way through my first cup of coffee when Belle’s body entered, and my mouth fell open at the sight of her.

This was my wife’s last day of school in our daughter’s body, and she’d clearly decided to go all-out. The last Friday of every month was a no-uniform day, and so Mary—no longer restrained by the school’s uniform policy—was wearing a miniskirt, a form-fitting top…and no bra.

I’m not saying that because I’m some kind of expert in women’s fashion. No, the lack of bra was very, very obvious.

And knowing my wife—or at least, her behavior over the past few weeks—I would have bet good money that she wasn’t wearing panties, either.

Tearing my eyes away from my daughter’s clearly-visible nipples, I turned to see the expression on my wife’s face.

To my great relief, she looked appalled.

In case it isn’t obvious by now, I had very mixed feelings about Mary’s methods. On one hand, what she’d done has resulted in me doing, saying, and thinking things that I was afraid would forever damage my psyche. I’d fucked my teenage daughter’s body while she begged for her ‘daddy’s cock’. I’d grown hard at the sight of her showing off to two police officers. I’d fucked her face until tears—and mascara—ran down her face.

After what we’d done, I knew I would never be able to look at my daughter the same way again.

But before my wife’s interference, Belle had been spiraling. We’d tried everything, and—unbelievably—this had worked.

Even a week in, my daughter had still been supportive and encouraging of her body being put on display. But over the past few days, we’d witnessed a complete reversal in attitude. She was starting to understand that we weren’t strict to be cruel. She was seeing how much we sacrificed to keep her safe.

She now believed what our words had never been able to convince her of: that we loved her, and that everything we did was for her benefit.

And, perhaps most shockingly of all, she no longer saw her body being shown off as desirable. Watching the two policemen ogle her teenage body had been a real wakeup call for our daughter.

“And what do you think you’re wearing?” Belle said coldly. She was imitating her mother’s tone so perfectly, it was a real effort not to grin.

“It’s casual Friday,” my wife replied, doing an equally good impersonation of our daughter. “Any bacon left?”

Holding Mary’s hand up, Belle continued. “You think I’m going to let you wear that to school?”

“Uh, yeah?”

I instinctively wanted to jump in and support my wife (well, my daughter in my wife’s body) but I realized that this was a battle that needed to play out without my involvement.

“Belle, you…you can’t wear that.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t appropriate.”

“God,” my wife responded, rolling our daughter’s eyes. “Mom, you just don’t get it.”

This was a line that Belle had used a great many times over the years, and I think she recognized that. There was a pause, and her response was thoughtful.

“I know it seems that way,” she said slowly. “But…I understand better than you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Belle nodded, moving her mother’s hand to her waist. “I do. The attention feels nice. It makes you feel like people are noticing you, like you’re…not alone.”

She trailed off, staring into space, and my wife used Belle’s eyes to shoot me a quick glance.

“Uh huh,” she responded.

“But there are better ways of getting that attention,” my daughter continued, after a brief pause.

“Like what?”

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted. “But if you go into school dressed like that, you’re not going to find them.”

I wanted to applaud, but I continued staying out of it. After that great speech, I hoped Mary would concede the point, and dress into something more appropriate.

But, as she had so many times over the last few weeks, my wife surprised me.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “Just let me dress how I want, okay? I’m going to be out of here soon enough, and then you won’t be able to control me any more.”

Again, this was a point that our daughter had frequently used—I think it was part of the reason Mary had taken such extreme actions. We had to do what we could before unleashing Belle onto the world.

For the world’s sake as much as hers.

I turned back to my wife’s body. Again, I could see that the words had left an impact—much like when she’d heard “cunt” being screamed from her own mouth, it was obvious that our daughter was completely recontextualizing her past actions.

I’d hoped that she would react with a mature, well-thought out argument. Something that even Mary, playing the rebellious teen, wouldn’t be able to rebut.

Hell, maybe this would so effectively change Belle’s mind, we wouldn’t have to play out the last few days. If all went well, maybe my wife and daughter could switch back tonight, and the weirdness of the past two weeks could end early.

As Belle opened my wife’s mouth, however, my hopes were dashed.

“Fine!” she hissed, my heart sinking. I had seen my daughter lose her temper more than enough times to recognize the signs. “If you’re going to be like that, you won’t go to school at all. You’re going to stay home all day, with your father.”

My daughter’s eyes lit up at the idea. I don’t know if Belle really thought that would be an effective punishment—being forced to skip school isn’t exactly going to strike fear into the heart of any teenager, y’know?—but I was pretty sure my wife would have paid good money to spend an entire day alone with me in our daughter’s body.

“Fine!” my wife responded, rolling Belle’s eyes. “Whatever!”

“No!” I said quickly, giving up on my attempts to be Switzerland in the matter. “No, we can’t reward bad behavior like that. Belle, go upstairs and change.”

“But Daddy…” my wife pleaded, and I hoped that our daughter wouldn’t find anything amiss in her choice of words.

“No buts,” I replied firmly. I had days of work to catch up on, and I knew that if my daughter’s body was home all day, I had almost no chance of being productive.

An image flashed through my head—Belle, naked, on her knees at my desk, worshipping my cock as I worked—but I quickly dismissed it.

I had to stay strong.

“Now,” I insisted, and—again, in a manner that I hoped the real Belle wouldn’t find suspicious—our daughter’s body slumped, before making her way upstairs.