The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Below the Surface

By Pan

Chapter 3

The next morning, Albert strolled into the kitchen at around 8am, happy to see Alicia standing in front of the stove, completely topless, making pancakes.

At the sound of her step-son entering, Alicia turned and blushed. When she saw Albert leering at her tits, she covered them with her arms, wondering what on earth she’d been thinking.

After her incredible orgasm of the previous night, Alicia had all but floated upstairs to her marital bed. Even the stern inquisition that met her wasn’t enough to wipe the grin off her face—she just felt so good.

In response to her husband’s questions, Alicia simply shrugged. At that moment, she didn’t even care why she’d done what she had—it had all just been so perfect at the time, and she’d been so, so turned on…

As Howard reached out toward her, however, Alicia recoiled.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, and Howard stared at her in shock. “Don’t ever touch me.”

“What the hell is going on?” he’d asked, and in response Alicia had simply gone to sleep on the couch. She shuddered—after going down on his son, she knew that she couldn’t touch Howard again. Not ever.

Setting an alarm (so she could give Albert an early breakfast) she’d drifted off into a happy, dreamless sleep.

Now, however, Alicia was starting to wonder what she was doing. Making breakfast for her step-son was extremely out-of-character, but she’d told herself that she was just compensating for the weirdness of the previous night. After the intimacy they’d shared, there was obviously going to have to be some adjustments, and making him breakfast was one way of getting things back to normal.

But why did she have to be topless?

Lower your arms.

Of course…their intimacy meant that there was nothing to hide. Not any more. Why was she getting so worked up about boobs? They were just flesh, just two glands on the front of her chest.

Nothing to be ashamed of.

With a smile, Alicia turned to Albert, her breasts completely uncovered. Her skin was still flushed as Albert blatantly stared at her exposed chest, but she tried not to let it bother you.

“I hope pancakes are okay?” she said, a slight quiver entering her voice as she spoke. Last night, she’d been so turned on that she’d let her submissive streak go wild, and started thinking of Albert as her “Master.”

Master.

What silliness, she told herself, turning back to the stove in an attempt to hide her deepening blush.

“Of course,” Albert said, and her knees went slightly weak at the sound of his voice. Her orgasm last night had been so, so good…

Alicia bit her lip, and remained silent as she began serving Albert the sweet, syrupy pancakes she knew he loved so much. In the past, she’d have scolded him for eating so many, reminded him of his weight, but today…something about that didn’t seem quite right.

And so she held her tongue as she served him.

Served.

Served her Master.

Every time she leaned across the table, her tits were in his face, and as he stuffed pancake after pancake into his mouth, he began leaning closer every time one of her perfect breasts came near him.

Let me touch your boobs.

Against her own will, Alicia found herself getting turned on, remembering the events of the night before. It hadn’t been sex, of course—she’d never have sex with Albert—but it had certainly been something. It had been so hot, so sexy…

And probably quite educational for her step-son.

Yes, educational. Albert had probably learned a lot about a woman, all sorts of things that would come in helpful if he ever managed to get a girlfriend. How to make them experience the most powerful orgasm of their life, for example.

The more she thought about it, the more proud she got. She was just being a good step-mom. She was educating her son. She was helping him learn.

The syrup had almost run out when the thought really hit her. Why stop the education there? Why not help him learn even more about a woman’s body.

What their tits felt like, for example…

Albert was staring at her, a half-smile on his face, almost as if he could tell what she was thinking. Unable to hold back any longer, she blurted the thought out:

“Why don’t you touch my tits?”

“Of course, Mom,” he said, and reached out, tweaking and pulling on her nipples.

With a moan of pleasure, Alicia wondered if what she was doing really was right, but before she could think about it for too long, another thought struck her.

Sit on my lap. The more I touch your nipples, the more turned on you get.

Albert’s hand slipped the black device back into his pocket, quickly returning to Alicia’s right nipple, where he twirled it in his chubby fingers, enjoying its fleshy feel.

She didn’t even mean to sit down, she was just suddenly so horny. Her knees again went weak, and when Alicia regained her senses, she realized that she was sitting on her step-son’s lap.

At least it made it easier for her to continue his education.

Her eyes widened when she shifted her weight slightly, and realized that Albert had an erection. After taking his cock into her mouth the previous night, it shouldn’t have shocked her, but it did—she was just trying to educate her son, not arouse him. Especially considering how horny she was…and how much more turned on she was getting by the second.

If they were both aroused, they could cross some kind of line. And she certainly didn’t want that.

Let me suck your nipples,” Albert said, and not even waiting for an answer, began to do exactly that, enjoying the soft whimpers that came out of his step-mother’s mouth in response.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Roger bellowed, storming towards his son. Albert and Alicia had been so pre-occupied, they hadn’t even noticed the kitchen door entered, and Albert’s father entering.

Albert reached for his device, but before he could put it to his throat, found himself flying across the kitchen. With one movement, his father had knocked Alicia off his lap, and thrown his (quite large) son against the fridge.

“I alway knew you were a creep,” Roger began, but before he could finish the sentence, Albert managed to press the device against his throat.

Shut up, Dad.” he said. Roger continued berating him for a few seconds, but soon slowed down, telling himself that silence was always the most intimidating way to communicate. When he was sure that his commands were taking effect, Albert continued talking into the device.

You can’t do anything to hurt me or Alicia. You can’t talk to anyone in this house, unless you are asked a direct question, and you can’t tell anyone about what we do.

There was a long pause, as Roger processed the new information. Physical escalation was a brutish way to settle disputes, he knew that. No, far more manly was to use words, to assert dominance through what he said.

Or didn’t say. Yes, that was more like it. By not talking to his wife or son, they’d know exactly where they stood. He’d answer any questions they had, of course—to not do so would be rude—but other than that, he was never going to speak again, not to them, and not about them.

With a smile, Roger stood back. The silent treatment, that was the way to go. Starting immediately.

Once Albert saw that his father had—somehow—justified his instructions, he stood up, brushing himself off.

“Are you okay?” he asked Alicia, and was surprised by the torrent of words he received in response. Of course—she’d taken his words to heart as well.

He considered telling her that she could talk whenever she wanted, but the idea of having Alicia at his beck and call, speaking only when spoken to…there was something strangely appealing about the idea.

Albert held up his hand, cutting Alicia off.

Alicia, I’m going to fuck you. Dad, you’re going to watch.

Her husband’s violence had hurt and confused her. She was just trying to be a good mother to Albert, and he’d attacked her like she was doing something wrong. Well, she wasn’t going to talk to him again, that was for sure. Unless he asked her something, of course—no need to be rude.

But that wasn’t enough. Before he’d touched her, she was having the time of her life—she was sitting on her step-son’s lap, educating him about a woman’s body, getting more and more turned on as she did. But the feeling of his hands had been enough to completely destroy the mood—considering what she was doing with his son, being touched by her husband just wasn’t appropriate.

Well, Alicia knew exactly how she could teach him a lesson: she was going to fuck his son.

Without saying a word, the buxom young woman stripped off the rest of her clothes, and stood naked in front of her husband and step-son. Albert didn’t say anything as she sat on the kitchen table, spread her legs, and smiled at him invitingly.

Considering his size, it was actually impressive how quickly Albert removed his clothes, and soon his stubby cock was at the entrance to his step-mother’s shaved pussy. With a grunt, he thrust forward, enjoying the glare that Alicia gave his father as he did.

Watch this, Dad, and don’t look away. Watch as I fuck your trophy wife, and know that you’re being cuckolded.

Howard stood in the corner of the kitchen, trembling with rage. Alicia was his, and here he was, watching her get porked by his pork of a son.

Howard wanted to look away, but he couldn’t—no, he needed to see this. He needed to…know. If he left, he was worried that he’d think he’d imagined the whole thing, and so he forced himself to sit there and watch his beautiful young wife being defiled by his teenage son.

Alicia, there’s nothing hotter than getting fucked by your own son. Dad, I want you to know that you were beaten out by a better man—I’m taking your wife because I deserve her more than you ever did.

Alicia moaned—at first, she’d been fucking Albert for revenge (and education, a small voice in her head reminded her) but as he reached around and cupped her breasts with one pudgy hand, the sex had started getting better and better.

And Albert wasn’t wearing a condom.

He wasn’t her son, she knew that—but if she used her tight, wet pussy to milk the cum out of his cock, maybe he’d knock her up. Maybe he’d put a baby boy inside her, and one day, that baby would grow up to be a man.

A man who she could fuck.

Alicia trembled with orgasm at the thought. Just the idea of having a son, fucking her own son—it was the hottest thing she’d ever thought of.

Howard, meanwhile, had worked out exactly why he was still watching. It was for confirmation—not just of what was happening, but confirmation that he deserved it. He’d struck his wife, he’d been an awful father…an awful man.

He deserved this.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Howard watched as his only son fucked his hot young wife, every stroke affirming what he felt like he’d always known—he didn’t deserve her. His son did. His son deserved to fuck his woman more than he did.

With a smile, Albert slapped Alicia on the ass, and put his device down. He removed his hand from his step-mother’s breast, and put them both on her waist, fucking her as hard as he could, punctuating every thrust with a word.

“You! Dirty! Slut!”

Soon, Albert was cumming, filling his naked step-mother with his seed. As soon as he was done, he sat back, exhausted from the effort, enjoying the sight of Alicia’s sticky cunt in front of him as she put one hand underneath to keep as much of his semen from escaping as possible.

There were still a few pancakes left, and Albert began eating them as his father slowly, silently left the room.

After breakfast, maybe he’d pay his mother a visit. After all, both his sisters still lived with her…