The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I didn’t sleep much that night. What I was going to do with my father…what we were going to do…

It wasn’t something that was going to leave the top of my mind any time soon.

When I woke up the next morning, it didn’t take me long to decide what to wear.

Nothing.

Well, not quite. I slipped into the hall naked—I knew my father wouldn’t be up. He has to get up early for work, so when he’s off, he takes every opportunity to sleep in. It only took me a few seconds of poking around in the laundry hamper to find it—one of my father’s white T-shirts.

When Dad woke up, he found me wearing his shirt and nothing else.

“Nicki,” he said, his voiced slurred with sleep and annoyance. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Hi Daddy!” I said, deliberately contrasting my bubbliness with his dour tone. His eyes lowered to my chest, where my nipples were threatening to poke through his shirt (this was no accident—as soon as I’d heard his bedroom door opened, I’d pinched them until they were well and truly visible).

Before he could say anything, I ran over to give him a hug—even through his sweatpants, it was impossible not to feel his boner.

“Nicki!” he spluttered, as I pushed myself against it. Like I said, seducing one’s father isn’t exactly something they teach in school. I figure that being half-naked and pressing myself against him was a good start…especially if, as I suspected, my mysterious tormentor had made some adjustments.

I mean, the alternative was that my Dad had always had a bone for me, and I’d just never noticed until tasked to take advantage of it.

“Daddy…” I purred, and reeled as he almost threw me across the room.

“Nicki!”

A part of me was hurt, but I knew I couldn’t drop character. I had to seduce my father, no matter what.

I just listened, pouting slightly as I shot my father what I hoped was a sexy look.

“Jesus Christ, Nicki. You know better than this…what on earth is wrong with you?”

Crap. I might have been overplaying it. Coming on too strong made it too easy for Dad to reject me—maybe the trick was to be more subtle, seduce him without being obvious about it.

Have him inside me before he even realized what was up.

“Sorry Dad,” I said, softening my pout…but not dropping it entirely. “I’m just excited to see you.”

“I’m excited to see you too,” he said stiltedly, after a brief pause. “But…how about you go put some clothes on, okay?”

That day, I didn’t try anything more. I dressed in something that resembled a normal outfit, something I would have worn even without the challenge in front of me.

Of course, it wasn’t exactly the same. Instead of the thick black tights I normally wore, I decided to go without, giving Dad plenty of chances to check out my bare legs.

And before hitching that ride with the stranger, I definitely would have worn underwear.

It wasn’t so bad that I could be ordered to change, but it was definitely in the top five provocative outfits I’d ever worn around the house.

I could sense Dad’s eyes on me for most of the day. I considered flashing him my pussy, but decided against it—after he’d pushed me away that morning, I figured it wasn’t worth it—this way, he’d think that he was the one at fault, the one uncontrollably lusting after his daughter.

He’d have no idea that I had to seduce him, no matter how much he hated it.

I tried not to think too much about my wish. A part of me felt bad, I guess—here Dad was, unknowingly controlled, being desperately seduced by his own flesh-and-blood…and my wish guaranteed that he wouldn’t even get any pleasure out of it.

But ultimately, I knew I’d done the right thing. What we were going to do—it was incest. It was sick and wrong, and the idea of my father getting off on it was almost enough to make me throw up.

I mean, he was going to get off on it, but this way…at least this way, I’d know that it wasn’t something he wanted. Like, I love my Dad. He’s a good man, and I don’t want him to turn into a monster.

A man who will willingly seduce his own daughter—that’s a monster. The wish was made to protect him from that fate.

I just wish I had something to protect myself.

I dreamt about my father that night. Honest to god, I wish I knew whether it was implanted by the strange man in the car or if it was a real dream, but either way the outcome was the same—I dreamed that he was standing over me as I slept, his dick in his hand, and when I woke up I smiled seductively and gestured for him to come towards me. As he did, I took his cock in my mouth and sucked him until he came.

When I woke up, I couldn’t believe how wet I was. It was all a dream, of course—my father was in his room down the hall, still sleeping.

The image popped into my head, and I suddenly realized what I had to do. I had a little under a week to seduce my father, and he’s always so groggy when he wakes up…and if he’s anything like my ex-boyfriend, he definitely wakes up with a hard-on.

For the second morning in a row, I slipped into the hallway naked. This time I didn’t stop by the laundry hamper, however—this time, I went straight into my father’s room.

As I’d predicted, he was fast asleep…and the bulge in his pants told me that wasn’t the only thing I’d been right about.

Standing at the doorway of Dad’s room, I hesitated. Was this going to work? Once I crossed this line, there was no going back…and the consequences of my failure had been made pretty explicit.

Was this something I really wanted to do?

Of course not. But I had to take a chance at some point, and this was my best shot.

Without making a sound, I tip-toed across the room and lay down next to my father. Had he woken up at that point, the first thing he would have seen was his own teenage daughter’s breasts, staring him straight in the eye.

I tried to tell myself that the cold was the only reason my nipples were hard.

Holding my breath, I moved one hand beneath the covers. As it slowly found its way between my father’s legs, I realized that the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this nervous—when my father woke up, I had no idea what he’d do. He might kick me out, he might call the police…

…or my plan might work, and he might start seeing me as a wet hole to fuck.

He shifted slightly as my hand made its way underneath the sweatpants he slept in, and firmly wrapped itself around his cock.

A part of me felt truly sick—my father’s dick was throbbing in my hand. I could feel how hard it was…but the rest of me was wondering if he was dreaming of me, just as I’d been dreaming of him.

With a long, quiet sigh, I started sliding my hand up and down his shaft. This was it; the moment of truth.

For the next several minutes, my father didn’t wake up. He didn’t open his eyes, at least—I assumed he was still asleep, but I guess he could just as easily have been laying there with his eyes shut, pretending to still be in a dream, refusing to see who had his cock enveloped in his hand, who was breathing raggedly in the bed beside him.

It’s just nerves, I told myself angrily. That’s the only reason I’m having trouble breathing.

My nipples were just as hard as they had been the previous morning, but my hands hadn’t even travelled near them. The wetness between my legs was harder to explain—I tried to tell myself that it was just a basic biological response, that any healthy female would automatically begin lubricating with a cock in her hand. That’s why pussies get wet, after all.

I tried to tell myself it was anything but arousal at the utter wrongness of what I was doing.

I’m not exactly Queen of the Hand-jobs or anything like that, but I’ve given enough to know the signs, and it wasn’t long before I could tell that Dad was close to cumming.

“Come on,” I whispered under my breath, but it must have been loud enough to wake him…or persuade him to open his eyes, at least.

I yelped with fear at his fierce gaze, but even as the adrenaline began running through my body, my hand never stopped stroking his erection.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed at the sight of my flushed face, as I sat naked beside him on the bed.

“Please, Daddy…” I said, shutting my eyes with fear.

“Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me.” he growled, and I considered disobeying him. Maybe if I kept stroking him, he’d have no choice but to fuck me. Or maybe he’d throw me over his lap and spank me…and why the hell did that image send a thrill through my body?

But I did as he commanded.

“You need to get out of my bed,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, and I didn’t even think to argue. I obeyed as quickly as I could…although I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t put an extra sway in my hips as I did.

When I reached the door, I looked back at him over my shoulder, and once more I brought a finger to my lip and slowly licked it, maintaining eye-contact the whole time.

Before Dad could say anything, I slipped back into the hall, trying not to gag at the realization that I’d just tasted my father’s pre-cum.

After all, by the end of my trip I was going to be tasting far more than that.