The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

WeaverFeed Quiz: Daughter Has New Demands

SYNOPSIS:

Ariana Davis’s youngest daughter, Addison, takes the fateful quiz that’s already had quite an impact her their family after Ariana’s results.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Follows the character of Addison from WeaverFeed Quiz: Mom Has New Needs.

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DISCLAIMERS:

  • This story is a work of fiction; any apparent resemblance between the characters in this story and any actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.
  • Do not read this story if you are under the age of 18 or if explicit sexual fiction is illegal in your jurisdiction.
  • This story contains mind control and explicit descriptions of a sexual nature. If any of these concepts disturb you, please find something else to read.

This story is a work of erotic fantasy. It is not meant to reflect real life, nor should it be read as an endorsement of the actions and attitudes contained within.

My mom is some sort of dyke. I don’t know if that’s an acceptable term these days, but hey, if the denim outfit fits.

So… you know… things have been a little weird in the Davis household ever since mom realized she’s some sort of a butch lesbian sometime last week.

First, dad started sleeping on the couch on the regular and I would get long lingering, wholly weird, and hungry looks any time I walked by mom.

Then, I caught mom randomly flirting with our neighbor Victoria Weisse.

After that, I caught the two of them tongue kissing over our shared fence. Apparently, despite Victoria being quite the womanly looker and mom shifting rapidly towards the masculine, it somehow came into being. I don’t know where Victoria’s husband was or what he’d think if he saw that. Seems like something all boys are into, but I’m mainly dealing with high school boys and they’re into everything that’s available to them.

This weirdness all seemed to time out to when my mom sent me some sort of quiz to take, saying the quiz results are “surprisingly accurate.”

This, of course, pings my woman’s intuition, but to get down to the bottom of everything, I figure I’ll have to check out the quiz itself. See if it’s a lead or a dead end.

I click the link in mom’s email on my phone and this site reads:

Welcome to WeaverFeed Quiz: Your True Self.

We’ve compiled all forty-two female archetypes and can identify you accurately based on your answers to ten simple questions, as well as the amount of time it takes you to choose.

If you’re a male and have reached this page in error, please click this link to take the male version of this quiz. Thank you.

Nothing super out of the ordinary. No warning bells going off in my head. No tingling daughter sense. I decide to rally through the quiz and answer all the questions as quickly as possible. It’s date night. I don’t want to keep Eddie waiting.

Red Square—I like red.

Mountain—I like skiing.

Steak—I like meat.

Martini—I feel like that’s a classy drink.

Nude—the only way to sleep.

Handcuffs—I like a little bit of adventure.

Banana—Potassium, oh so necessary.

Candlelit Dinner—I’m a romantic.

Car—I wish I had one.

Dollar Sign—I’m not 100% romantic because a girl’s gotta eat.

Calculating…

Calculating…

You are 34 percent Whore.

You know, this isn’t the sort of quiz result I would expect to get from something… shared with me by my mom.

You are 67 percent Bitch.

This feels particularly judgmental. What’s up with that? If I wanted to be judged, I’d walk by a construction site in my cheerleading outfit again.

But your true self is…

The Dominatrix

You lead with a firm hand or a firm grip on your whip. You see most as beneath you and their main purpose is to be your servants. Your preferred name is “Mistress.” If anyone doesn’t immediately bend to your will, you’re more than willing to apply pain and pleasure in whatever measure it takes to properly place them in your thrall.

When you find this quiz to be surprisingly accurate, pass it along to all of your friends.

I start to laugh.

If I told any of my friends that I find it surprisingly accurate that I’m a whore bitch dominatrix, I’m pretty sure they’d disown me and the cheerleaders would use it as a reason to kick me off the squad. And Eddie, my boyfriend, probably prefers me as I am—your average ordinary high school senior with her mind on college and the future. Though he’d probably like me to be a little more whore-y so that I’d give up the sex to him. I think it’s romantic to hold off until prom night. He still asks… every day… and every day I shoot him down.

I sigh.

I guess mom’s little novelty quiz has no answers to the mystery of her sudden change in personality. Maybe she just reached a midlife crisis or she’d been tamping down feelings of desire for women all her life and they finally boiled over. Hey. So long as she’s happy, why the fuck not?

As I get ready for my date, I see Eddie pull up to the curb and sit in his idling car. Even before her “transformation,” mom was never a huge fan of his and ever since she’s gone through her change, he’s all the more intimidated by her. I was a little annoyed by his weakness, but looking out at him and thinking about it, I find it a bit intriguing. Like there’s something there for me to exploit and use to my advantage.

I run down the stairs, feeling my skirt billowing behind me, and find mom waiting for me at the bottom.

“Where do you think you’re going? She asks.

“Out,” I say briskly.

“I’m going to need some details, young lady.”

“I’m going to need you to get out of my fucking way,” I say through gritted teeth with no idea where the words or harsh tone came from.

Something in the combination causes my mom to back off, clearing my path out of the door. Having won the confrontation, I make a point to slowly amble by her, defiantly. I’ve never had an antagonistic relationship with my mother, but if this is how good it would’ve felt to win if I did, I should’ve started this ages ago.

When I get into the car, Eddie looks like he’ll need both hands to bring his dropped jaw back into place.

“Wow, Addy. You look —“

Before he can even finish his thought, I demand, “Say you like it.”

“No, no. I was totally going to say I like it. I just—I’ve never seen you in anything like that.”

I look down at my black latex catsuit. Nothing seems out of the ordinary to me. Just my usual second skin. Honestly, it always feels weird for me to take it off to put on my cheerleading outfit, but that’s the price of being on the team, I guess. Also, I feel like I’m missing something from my hand, but can’t quite place what that might be. All I know is—it’s definitely not a pom pom.

Eddie starts to speak, “So I was thinking —“

I interrupt. “That’s not your strong suit. You probably shouldn’t do too much of it.”

Eddie looks at me, eyes wide. He starts to laugh. “Right. Totally.”

I’m annoyed, but I try not to let it show. Instead, I ask, “Is there anyone home at your place?’

“No one. Dad’s working late and mom has her book club. Why? Wait, Addy, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Is that why you’re wearing that? Is tonight the night?”

I force a smile. I just need him to get me there. Anywhere, really. Anywhere we can be alone. Once there, he’ll discover exactly what I have in mind.

I’m pushed back against the passenger’s seat as he floors the gas pedal. His excitement is clear in this action as well as the bit of movement in his pants. My mind bounces back and forth between using the stick or the carrot. I guess that will all depend on how well little Eddie behaves.

We make incredible time getting to his house. Eddie driving like a race car maniac probably sped things up. He’s midway up the walkway to his house when I yell out the window, “You will open my door for me.”

He nearly trips over his feet, stopping his momentum, but somehow manages to stay upright. He rushes back to his car to open my door.

Once I’m out, up, and standing, I pat him on the head and say, “Good boy.”

He smiles. Apparently, he enjoys positive reinforcement. Perhaps the carrot will do the trick.

Up in his bedroom, he points to my riding crop and asks, “Where did that come from?”

“I never let it out of my grip. I never know when someone will need to learn their manners the hard way.”

He looks intimidated. That same look he has when he has to speak with my mother. Pathetic. He’s a bit of worm, isn’t he? A weak little worm. But I think he can be trained.

“Kiss my boots,” I tell him.

He hesitates.

Stick it is.

I rap him hard on the knuckles of his right hand.

“Ow! What was that?”

“You didn’t obey.”

“I’m not sure I like this game,” he says and I rap him on his left hand and he starts to rub it. “What the fuck, Addy?!?”

My temper rises. “You will call me Addison or you will call me Mistress, worm!”

I flick him again on his right hand. Harder this time.

“Kiss. My. Boots.”

I start to raise the crop and he drops to his knees. He makes a show of kissing my boots, looking up at me for approval.

The look for approval sends a wave of arousal rushing through my body. I like it.

I unzip my catsuit a bit, giving him a bit of a reward for doing what he’s told.

His eyes go wide at the sight of my cleavage.

“What do you want me to do now, Addy — Addison?”

I half smile. Breaking him will be no effort whatsoever. “Crawl around on all fours until I tell you to stop.”

He starts to crawl around on all fours, periodically sneaking desirous looks at me.

“Take off your shirt,” I order.

He does.

“I didn’t tell you to stop crawling.”

He resumes his crawling.

“Take off your pants,” I order.

This time, he only pauses his crawling to take off his pants and then he resumes it.

He knows to continue after I have him remove his boxers as well.

I feel flush every time he follows my commands. I want to rub myself through this catsuit, but I have to show control if I am going to know control. That much is certain. However, nothing stops me from using him directly in my pleasuring.

I start to fully unzip the catsuit.

He stops crawling.

I stop unzipping.

I don’t even have to say anything to get him to continue his crawl.

When I begin to unzip again, I see that he makes a full effort to not look, despite the fact that his hot, sexy girlfriend is getting naked in his room.

I let the catsuit fall to the floor and then sit on his bed, spreading my legs wide.

I point to my pussy and say, “You know what to do.”

He crawls over to have his face inches from my slit and looks up for one final confirmation of my needs.

I’m wet from the control I have over him.

“Get to licking,” I demand.

He tongue is untrained, but eager. Thankfully, with how ready to cum I already am, it won’t take that much skill from his end. As I approach my reward, I take both of my hands and hold his face in place. Even after I’ve cum, I keep him there, relishing my power over him. This big boy and little old me has him completely under my thrall.

I push him away and he tumbles backwards to the ground.

I stand and pull the catsuit back over my body.

“What about me?’ He pleads.

I grab the crop and rap him hard on his naked ass.

“You hesitated on my commands. You need to learn to not do that.”

He complains, “So you’re going to leave me with blue balls?”

“Yes. Yes I am. And don’t you dare masturbate after you drop me off at home. Do. Not. Dare. I’ll know… and you’ll be punished. And this,” I say, holding up my riding crop. “This is nothing compared to what I can do to make you miserable, worm.”

I look around the room.

“Where are your keys?” I ask.

“Why?” He asks in response and again feels the sting of my crop. That stroke might leave a welt.

He presents his keys to me.

“I’m taking your car back to my place. It’s mine now. Everything you own, everything you are, is mine now. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he mutters and I cock a defiant hand on my hip above him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he says… correctly.

“Good boy.”

When I try to pair my phone with his bluetooth system, I see my quiz results from earlier on my phone screen.

The Dominatrix

Quite accurate. Surprisingly accurate, even. I forward the quiz link out to the entire cheerleading squad with a command that they all take the quiz. If they know what’s good for them, they’ll have done it by the time I see them next. Otherwise, they’ll feel the stick.