The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mad Monday

by Pan

Chapter 7

“What in God’s name has gotten into you??”

As soon as I saw the look of hurt on my daughter’s face, I knew I shouldn’t have shouted. It had just been totally unexpected.

When Belle’s body had returned home from school that day, I’d been working at my desk. Without warning, she’d entered my office, straddled my lap, and pressed her mouth against mine.

In shock, I’d pushed her away. One minute, my mind had been buried in spreadsheets; the next, my daughter’s tongue was halfway down my throat.

“I just…I just…”

Before I could say anything, before I could apologize, my daughter burst into tears.

Without a word, I put out my hands, and pulled the crying teenage girl onto my lap for a cuddle. As she sobbed onto my shoulder, I wondered what she’d expected my response to be. I knew my wife well enough to know that she wasn’t trying to entrap me, but surely she didn’t expect me to make out with her again, not while she was in our daughter’s body.

After ten minutes of tears, the sobs subsided, and I spoke to her softly.

“Honey…”

“I’m sorry,” she said meekly. I still wasn’t used to it, the mix of my wife’s inflection and my daughter’s tone. “I just…”

“What?” I prompted gently. I regretted the delivery, of course, but my question still stood—what in God’s name had gotten into her?

“I just…oh Andrew, it’s so hard.”

“I know,” I soothed, and with a deep breath, my wife turned to me and continued, using my daughter’s deep blue eyes to stare into mine.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I just…I spent all day thinking about what we did yesterday.”

“I’m glad it helped,” I said, bringing my hand to the side of my daughter’s face. “But you know we can’t do that again. That was just to help. That was a one time thing”

I don’t think Belle’s face could have looked more crushed had I slapped her.

“What?” she asked, crestfallen.

“Honey, I’m glad that I was able to help you, but…think about it. You know we can’t. I can’t.”

“I need it,” she said simply.

“Mary…”

“I do,” she said. All emotion was gone from her voice now; I’d seen my wife like this before. Conflict with her parents, fights with other customers over Black Friday sales, disputes at work.

She only acted like this when she wanted something.

In twenty years of marriage, I’d never seen her fail to get what she wanted. But I wasn’t backing down.

I couldn’t.

“Mary, no. We can’t!”

“Why not?” she said, a suspiciously innocent look in her eyes. I’d seen this before, too.

It was effective. Too effective.

But where she’d been distracted by the haze of teenage lust, I’d spent most of the previous night tossing and turning, fighting off nightmares about what we’d just done.

I’d accidentally spent the night preparing for this battle.

“Firstly,” I said calmly, “because if we get caught, I go to prison. Forever. No matter how careful we are, if anyone suspects a thing, that’s it. Our family is destroyed forever.”

“Okay…” she said, and I could all but see the gears turning in her head.

“Secondly, I can’t. I know that you need it, I truly do. But I simply can’t. Thirdly, we have spent fifteen years teaching our daughter that her body is her own, and that only she gets to choose what happens to it. We can’t go back on that now, just because you…”

I paused, and chose my words carefully.

“Just because of your needs.”

“Anything else?” she asked warningly, and I nodded.

“Lastly, because I love you. I love you, and the thought of kissing anyone but you is killing me. I know it’s still you, but…honey, it’s different.

“You know it’s different.”

Experiencing my wife’s intense gaze through the eyes of my daughter was one of the strangest things about the experience so far. When she again asked me if I was done, I just nodded

For the next few minutes, I just squirmed under the strange mix of parental authority and teenage innocence that my wife was projecting. Finally, she spoke.

“I love you too, and that’s why we need this.”

“It’s just ten more days,” I interjected, and she shook her head.

“It’s more than that,” she said. “It’s ten days and it’s ten nights. I…I can’t control myself, Andrew.”

For a moment, the intense stare cracked, and my teenage daughter looked truly vulnerable.

“I’m scared. Today at school, I found myself staring at one of the basketball players. I didn’t even know I was doing it. He saw me staring…no not just staring. Ogling. He saw me ogling him, and he asked me for my number.”

“Mary, that’s…—“

And I gave it to him.

There was a pause.

“What?”

“I gave him my number, Andrew. Belle’s number. I handed our daughter’s number out to a strange boy at school, because he thought I was checking him out. No…because I was checking him out.”

“Mary, that’s…”

I know. Believe me, there’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought of. I know what the problems with this are, and yes, we’ll be getting our daughter a new number. But I can’t control myself—I’ve already gone through two sets of vibrator batteries, and it isn’t enough. If Spike calls and invites me around…I don’t know if I’ll be able to say no.”

We sat in silence as I reflected on my wife’s words.

“I know what a bad idea this is, truly I do. But if I don’t get some release, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m meant to be helping our daughter, not destroying her social life. Please, Andrew. I need this. We can be careful—we can be so careful. And I want to appreciate our daughter’s bodily autonomy, but if it’s not with you, it’s going to be with somebody else, I know it is.”

“Maybe you should…”

“Switch back? If you say no, I will. If you can’t do this, I’ll switch back. But this is working, darling, I know it is.”

I thought back to the previous night, and was forced to agree.

“Ten more days,” my wife continued. “Ten more days, and we’ll have made a real difference. In the meantime…”

My wife sighed, and threw my daughter’s hands up in the air.

“I need it. I love you, and I need you. What do you say?”