The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

He was the poolboy.

I had just hired him, after moving to Columbus to be nearer my family (and farther away from my ex-husband). The divorce settlement had left me with enough to purchase a large colonial house for myself and my daughter; there were to be no alimony payments, so I was back working as a litigation consultant again. It took only a week from the time I hung my shingle until my first clients appeared; and seven months after that, I was fully employed.

The house had come with a pool, which appealed greatly to my daughter, and an attached jacuzzi, which appealed to me. For the first few months, I kept it up myself, but after the fall dumped more leaves into the pool than I had thought were in the trees to begin with, I realized my job didn’t leave me any time to take care of it. Brittany, my daughter, was already doing more than her share of the housework, so I decided to hire a poolboy.

As it turned out, Jason lived just across the street. He was twenty-four, back from college for the summer, and was happy to have the extra income while he worked on some electronics project for his thesis. He was well-mannered and seemed like a nice boy, though his parents were always strangely subdued, and demurred whenever I offered to have them over for dinner.

I hired Jason on a Thursday.

Two weeks later, he took me.

I returned home from the office at seven, well after dark. Brittany was visiting my parents on the other side of town, leaving me free to fix whatever sort of dinner I wanted. As I pulled up in the driveway, I saw that the Dodge truck Jason drove was in the driveway. I maneuvered my Jag around it into the garage, parked, and instead of going inside, I went out back to see what he was doing.

He was finished with the pool, it seemed, for he was sitting in one of the recliners next to it, reading a paperback book. It was cold outside, and he was bundled up in a ski jacket.

“Jason? What are you doing back here?” I asked.

He stood up. “Waiting for you, Ms. Carleson.” He put the book into one voluminous pocket, and walked over towards me.

“What for? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, quite the contrary. Everything is fine. Just fine.”

He took a black plastic box out of his other pocket. I saw that it had two little metal studs on one end.

“What’s that, Jason?”

“Oh, this is a taser, Ms. Carleson.”

“A... taser?”

“Yeah. See, you go like this—” and he hit me with it. I heard a loud crackle, and felt a strong pull all through my body, like a giant had yanked on a string running through my body. Then I blacked out.

When I woke, I discovered that I was tied in some sort of reclining chair. My arms were pulled up above my head, wrists locked into shackles on the outflung arms of the chair. My head was restrained by some sort of band around my forehead, and I was bound at my shoulders, waist, thighs, and ankles to the body of the chair. There was something hard and plastic-tasting in my mouth, which was keeping it pried open.

I’d never been so terrified. What was Jason going to do to me? I had visions of him torturing me, cutting me into bits and then throwing plastic bags full of me into the Ohio river. I squirmed and wriggled, but I couldn’t move anything enough to get any sort of momentum. I could waggle my fingers, flex my elbows, and slide my ass back and forth, but that was it.

After a brief crying jag, I forced myself to think rationally. I hadn’t spent four years in law school because I was helpless. It was time to take stock of the situation.

The room was painted black; the walls I faced didn’t have windows. There was a halogen torchiere providing light in one corner, and probably another behind me. I couldn’t see a door. The wall to my right had shelving built in, and though I could not turn my head to look, in my peripheral vision I saw various electronic components and cabling. To my right, there was a bench with lots of monitors on it; I couldn’t read the text that was scrolling up a few of them, again because my head was strapped in place.

The wall in front of me was matte black.

I was just pulling down one arm, flexing the elbow and lowering my shoulder, with the goal of reaching the shackle with my fingertips, when I heard a door open behind me. Terror leapt back to the surface. I could hear his shoes making soft noises as he walked around my chair.

Sure enough, it was Jason. I knew that attempting to say anything would be futile, with the gag in my mouth. I was briefly embarrassed by the drool that I could feel running out of the hole in it, and onto my chin.

He stopped directly in front of me. Behind him was only the black wall, and I could do nothing but stare at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ms. Carleson,” he said.

Perhaps my eyes widened a bit, and he took it as a response.

“Whether you believe it or not, it is true.” He looked me over, appraisingly. “What I am going to do, is to turn you into my slave.”

My eyes did widen at that. His formerly expressionless face slowly changed into a smile.

“What you can’t see, Ms. Carleson, is the device located above your head. It’s pointed straight down. Directly at your brain.” He walked forward, to stand within arm’s reach.

“I’m going to turn it on, Ms. Carleson, and it’s going to re-program you. You will become exactly the willing, eager slave I want you to be.” He stroked my cheek, and I shivered. I couldn’t look away from his dark eyes.

“Well,” he said, turning, “I’m not a cruel man. No sense in having you suffer. Though seeing you bound, helpless...” I couldn’t stop myself—sure enough, his arousal was visible, straining against his jeans. My vision clouded with tears, but he didn’t notice.

“Mmmm. God, but I am going to enjoy you.”

He walked around behind me, and I could hear him tapping on a keyboard. I struggled, futilely, as the machine began humming.

Like a bolt of lightning, it hit me—tapped me on the brain, and filled me with energy. I was floating, somewhere else, and a powerful current ran through me. I couldn’t see, but every nerve in my body was feeling, feeling intensely. “This is what a light bulb must feel like,” I thought—and then I overloaded.

I woke up on a bed. At first, I thought I was home, after some sort of highly strange nightmare, but as I sat up it became clear that I was still in the room where Jason had strapped me to his chair. Shit—he had done something to me, to make me his slave. Did I feel different? I couldn’t tell. Maybe I was okay. I had to be.

“Still dressed,” I observed, as I swung my legs off of the black sheets. The bed was in a corner behind the chair; the chair itself seemed to be the front part of a large heap of machinery. It had no cover, and crazy wire spaghetti stuck out everywhere.

The floor was warm, and the realization also told me that I wasn’t wearing any shoes. I stood up, and there didn’t seem to be any lingering effects. Hesitantly, I rubbed the top of my head, but everything felt normal.

What to do now. The room was windowless, so out the door it had to be. But first—I noticed a white phone on the wall. I walked over to it, and picked up the handset. There was a dial tone, but there was also a red button labeled “Intercom”. I pushed it, and said:

“Jason, I’m awake.”

Then I hung up the phone.

It took a moment to register. What the? Why did I do that? And why was I now walking back over to the bed, and sitting down to wait for him?

Shit.

I sat there for a minute. Somehow, I should be really upset, but all I could really work up to was a kind of mild resignation. It certainly looked like he had gotten me.

The door open, and I looked up to see him come in. He looked the same—I was a bit worried that I’d be seeing some sort of Greek god or something.

“Well, Ms. Carleson, how are you feeling?”

A good question. I thought about it before answering.

“Okay, I guess. I think I should be really mad at you.”

“And are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good. So, let me explain how things are going to be.” He walked over, and stood in front of me.

“First of all, you are my slave. You will do whatever I say. Anything. Got that?”

Again, I mulled it over.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

“You will what?”

“Do anything you say.”

“Anything?”

I searched for some corner of resistance. Something I wouldn’t do.

“Anything.”

“Good.” He sat down on the bed. “So, basically, life will pretty much go on as normal, except that anything I tell you to do, you will do. Got that?”

“Yes.” I could feel this emptiness, this lack of resistance, like trying to lean against a post that was not there.

“You are probably also noticing that you aren’t as upset as you think you should be. That’s the way it should be. See, in addition to being able to give you commands, I can control your feelings, too. Oh, I haven’t done much to them. Yet. But if I tell you to want something, you will. An example—what’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Not any more. Ms. Carleson, you don’t really like blue—it’s okay, but what you really like is red. Red is a great color—your favorite color.”

I felt a cool pulse across my head, like an echo of brain freeze.

“So, think about it now. What’s your favorite color?”

“I... red. It’s red.”

“And you’re not just saying that, are you?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Great. So, anything you want to get off your mind before sex?”

His offhand mention of sex threw me—not like I didn’t know it was coming, but... Still, my logical mind was enough mine to check its bases.

“What about my life? My job, my family—what about my daughter?”

“Oh, all that will stay the same. I’m not a bad guy, Ms. Carleson. I just got a serious hard-on for you, and decided to make you mine. I don’t plan to interfere with your life.”

There was relief, at that. Just feeling it made me happy—I was worried he had taken it, too.

“And my daughter?”

“Well, she’s quite a looker. We’ll just have to see.”

“No. Please, don’t...”

“Shh. Don’t worry about it.”

And I didn’t.

“Anything else?”

“Ah... I don’t...”

“Well, if something comes up, feel free to mention it. In fact, if something bothers you, I command you to mention it to me. Got that?”

“Yes.”

“Okay! Get naked.”

I blinked, and stood up. I unbuttoned my blouse, and shucked it. Then my bra.

“Face me, Ms. Carleson.”

I turned to let him ogle my chest. Shame? No. I guess he had removed that. Some small part of me felt pride at the way his eyes latched onto my tits. I unzipped my pants, and dropped them. My thumbs hooked into my green Victoria’s Secret undies, and then I was naked.

I stood there and let his eyes roam over my body. Then he reached out, and slid a hand along my waist, my thigh. He rose from the bed, and slid his hands up to cup my breasts.

“You are so incredibly beautiful, Ms. Carleson.”

He walked around me, touching me, as I stood there. I felt no anger, no shame, no worry—just the slight pleasure of human touch and the flattery of his lust for me.

Behind me now, his hands cupped my buttocks. “Spread your legs a bit,” he whispered in my ear. I obeyed, sliding my feet apart. He ran a hand down, along my inner thigh, and then up to touch my sex.

He circled around to my front, and slid his other hand down my stomach, running his fingers through my public hair. His rear hand was running a finger slowly along the length of my labia. It felt good. Bent over as he touched me, he pressed his face against my breast, and sucked lightly on the nipple.

He straightened, his hands sliding up my body. He bent forward to kiss me, then hesitated, and smiled.

“You lust for me, Ms. Carleson. You are lusting for me a lot. You want to kiss me, to make love to me. You want me to fuck you.”

Again, the cool wash filled my head, and was replaced with the warmth of lust between my legs.

“How would you like me to fuck you?”

“I would like it a lot.”

“Ask for it.”

“Please fuck me. I need you to fuck me. Please, fuck me, Jason. I need it.” I didn’t have to fake the eagerness in my voice. I longed to feel him pushing his cock deep into me.

He kissed me, then, and I kissed back. His tongue slid into my mouth in the way that inexperienced men think it should, and I sucked on it, and then slid mine along his. I pressed against him.

“Lie down on the bed, Ms. Carleson,” he said, when we broke. I did so, as he began to undress. “Play with yourself.”

I leaned back, pushing the pillows against the wall, and began to stroke myself, watching him undress. I was hot, aroused, but not ready for him by some ways. I daubed my fingers with a generous amount of saliva, and slid them back to work.

I hungered for him, needed his cock, but could still appraise him as his pants fell to the floor. He was okay. He was a bit pale, and his chest needed more hair; some time in the sun and in the gym could have bumped him up into the good-looking category. His endowment, the sight of which brought little tingles to my cunt, was red and hard as an iron bar. He smiled.

“Ms. Carleson, you really really want to suck my cock.”

Oh, yeah.

One hand remained on my pussy as I slid to the floor, kneeling in front of him. The other slowly slid along his shaft, which jerked as I touched it. It looked so fucking good. I had to have it in my mouth.

It jerked again as I kissed the tip, and I worried that he was going to come immediately, but when I shot a glance up at him, he seemed in control. My mouth quickly returned to his cock, and I began to lick around the tip, wrapping my tongue around his head and sliding it back to my mouth. He had obviously showered just recently, which was considerate.

I was thinking too much. Gripping the base of his shaft with my thumb and forefinger, I engulfed his prick with my mouth, sucking gently, and began pushing slowly back and forth.

He lasted longer than I had anticipated, but I could feel him nearing climax. Cum wasn’t one of my favorite things; I was wondering if my intense desire to suck him extended that far, and if I could just finish with a hand job.

“Ms. Carleson, unh, you want, unh, to drink my cum. You, unh, love the taste, unh, and, unh, the feel!”

Oohhhh. I had to have it. I kept working, tickling the underside of his cock with my tongue, until I was rewarded by a sudden jet that shot hard against the back of my throat. Somehow, I managed to not cough, as his prick jerked in my sucking mouth, filling it with spunk. It was wonderful, and I swallowed and sucked until he was done. He pushed my head away from his dick with a hand on my forehead, and I looked up at him, running my tongue around inside my mouth, tasting.

He sat on the bed. Remaining on the floor, I waited for instruction. He smiled at me.

“Up on the bed, Ms. Carleson. Lean back, and spread your legs.” I obeyed.

When I was in position, my knees apart, exposing myself, he leaned over from where he was sitting. I was wet, eager for him to fuck me; while I had been sucking him off, my other hand had spent the entire time playing with myself.

He leaned in, and began looking at me. Curious. With one hand, he began touching my pussy, and I inhaled sharply. I guessed he hadn’t seen much pussy, but it was uncomfortable to be examined like the engine of some new car. I didn’t dare say anything, though. He might not fuck me.

Of course, I forgot all that when he leaned further in and breathed on me. I shivered in pleasure. I was sensitive as all get out, now, totally aroused. When he began to lick, I started moaning aloud.

He had no idea what he was doing, of course, trying to stick his tongue up inside of me when what I wanted was a teasing presence on my clit, using his breath all wrong, and totally forgetting that he had fingers. It still felt great.

After a while, though, I could sense that he was getting frustrated at his inability to get me off, and there was no way he was going to without some instruction from me. And, his slave or not, I didn’t like him enough to help him. So:

“Enough, huh, oral. Let’s get you, huh, hard again, so you can fuck me! Please.”

He smiled, and slid up my body. I kissed him passionately, tasting myself on his lips, and reached out a hand to run along his cock. Sure enough, it responded (ah, young men), and just a few moments of touching had him stiff all over again.

As eager as I, he slid up, and positioned himself to enter. God, how I wanted him to fuck me. He pushed the head of his cock up against me, and paused.

“Do you want it, Ms. Carleson?”

“Please fuck me. Please. I need it.”

He grinned at me, and pushed. The angle wasn’t quite right, but I arched up my pelvis and he slid in.

We fucked.

Some while later, he came in me, and lay down on top. We were both sweating and panting; I had come before him, and was still twitching a bit as his cock moved inside me.

He pushed himself back up to look at me, dick still inside.

“Well, Ms. Carleson, you really enjoyed that.”

“Yes, I... oh.”

“You want me to fuck you as often as possible.”

Oh God. He was doing it to me. But it was true, suddenly. I did want him to fuck me, again, and again. As often as possible.

“In fact, the only person you want to fuck, is me.”

Shit. I thought of Mel Gibson. Nothing.

“Whenever you think of sex, you think of how much you like having me fuck you.”

I just stared at him. God, I was so helpless. His cock moved inside me, softening, and I twitched.

He pulled out, and rolled over to lie next to me.

I had no idea what to do, or what to think. He was making me want to fuck him, but of course now I did want to fuck him. Only him. And I couldn’t get angry about it. I just wanted him to fuck me. A lot.

Then I had a scary thought.

“Uh, Jason?”

“Yes?”

“I’m not on the pill.”

“Huh.”

“I don’t want to get pregnant.”

“You could.”

“Um. Please, don’t make me want to get pregnant.”

“Why not?”

“I have a grown daughter, and a job. And I don’t want to have another baby. They are a lot of work.”

“Hm. Well, I would recommend that you get a prescription for some birth control, then.”

I almost thanked him, for not making me want to have his baby. I was so far gone. I almost thanked him for not forcing me to be pregnant with a child I didn’t want.

And I couldn’t get angry about it.

I got dressed, and I went home. Of course I couldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to tell anyone. If people knew, they might interfere, and that would make Jason unhappy. Keeping Jason happy was my number one concern.

If Brittany noticed when she got back, it didn’t show. And life went on.

It was a different life, though. I began to discover things which Jason had never mentioned. It was suddenly a lot easier to concentrate at work, for one thing. My desire to procrastinate was almost gone. And I enjoyed work a lot more. My biggest client, Val-Pak, sent out their CEO to thank me for the “extra mile” I had gone in writing their latest round of contracts, and closing out several loopholes that 15 years of attorneys hadn’t closed before. Their comptroller came to me to have his will done. And that’s just an example of the gradual influx of more and more highly paid business that began to come my way. I had thought my practice was full, and I didn’t really need the money, but there was just so much more time in my days now that I didn’t bother with all the little things like comic strips and solitaire.

I also began working from home a lot more. Mostly so that Jason could come over and fuck me. How I loved being bent over my desk with him pounding his cock into me. Or lying on the living room floor. Or out back in the pool.

About two weeks after Jason had turned me into his slave, we were out fucking in the pool. He had come over, and told me to put on the new bathing suit I had bought. Oh, yeah—I found myself buying a lot more clothes, too. Sexy clothes. Brittany had noticed that—she enjoyed it when I went shopping, because I usually took her along.

He was in the hot tub when I came out of the house in my new metallic blue bikini.

“Do you like it, Jason?”

“Mmm-hmm. Why don’t you pose for me?”

It wasn’t an order, but I wanted to make him happy, so I did. I thrust out my tits, pivoted, and posed. The bikini was very skimpy.

“Mmm. Yeah. You’ve been working out.”

Huh. I had. Every day, in fact. Before, I had dragged myself to the gym a few times a week. Now I couldn’t wait to get up in the morning and hit the weights. “The burn” felt good. And after I got home for work I ran for half an hour, too.

I had forgotten that all that was new.

“Stop daydreaming, Ms. Carleson, and come here. I have something for you.”

Hopefully, it was long, and hard.

It was.

He undid the clasp on the bikini bottom, and I sat down on his lap, sliding him into me. His cock felt great—it was all I wanted. I’d never get tired of it.

We slowly rolled against each other, working him around inside me. He’d been learning what turned me on, and now he slid a hand around, moving it down across my bare crotch, finding my clit and stroking it.

Oh, I forgot. I was shaved down there, now.

After just a few soft strokes, he began to pluck at my clit; I ground hard against his crotch, sinking him in as deep as possible, and came like a rocket. Seconds later, he gripped my waist with both hands, and shot his load into me.

I leaned back against him. Hopefully, we hadn’t made so much noise that the neighbors heard, but then, eventually they were going to figure out I was screwing the poolboy anyways.

Then a voice from the house caused me to freeze.

“Mom?”

Shit! She wasn’t supposed to be home yet! Oh no. What if she came outside and saw me sitting on Jason’s lap, his cock inside me...

The back door opened. She was coming out.

I tried to get up, to move away from Jason, but his hands gripped my hips and kept me on his lap.

“You will stay on my lap, slut.”

Yes, yes, I had to stay on his lap. Did he just call me a slut? I wasn’t a slut. Brittany might think I was, though. Sitting here on Jason’s lap, in my new shiny metallic bikini... God. Could she see that I wasn’t wearing the bottoms? That Jason’s cock was buried inside me?

He was getting hard again, too.

Oh, God, just the fact that I was on his lap was bad enough. She’d know that something was going on.

What if he told me to kiss him?

What if he stood up in the jacuzzi, and told me to suck his dick? I’d do it.

And then my daughter came outside. She stepped down from the back step, dressed in her school uniform. She looked out at the garden, then across the pool, and then directly at me. Sitting in the jacuzzi on Jason’s cock. My face burned.

“Oh, hi, Jason,” she said. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi, Brittany,” said Jason.

“Hi honey,” I said, my voice cracking.

Jason’s cock had become rock-hard inside me. I couldn’t blame him, I suppose. It wasn’t his child catching him in the act. He must have found it exciting. He did find it exciting—I could tell by how far he was buried in me.

“Well, I just wanted to see if you were home. I got out early because Mr. Doland was sick. What’s for dinner?”

“Ah, I was going to make cannoli.” Why wasn’t she noticing?

“Great! Well, I’m gonna go hit the Internet.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll be in soon.”

My daughter smiled at me, waved, and walked back inside.

Jason gripped my hips, and began thrusting into me. I only just began to thrust back when he came again, his dick jerking fiercely.

We sat in the hot tub for a while. He seemed pleased with himself, and it took me some time to work up the nerve to ask him my question.

“Um, Jason?”

“Yes, Ms. Carleson?”

“Why didn’t Brittany notice, ah, seem to notice...”

“That we were fucking?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I got her too.”

Oh no. Not Brittany.

“Ms. Carleson?”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about that?”

How did I feel about that? I should be panicking, frantic. But again, it was like leaning against a pole that wasn’t there. Intellectually, I didn’t want my daughter to be Jason’s slave. But emotionally, I didn’t—couldn’t—work up any distress about it.

“Answer me, Ms. Carleson.”

“I, I don’t know.”

“Then I shall tell you.”

I had a sudden realization of what was going to happen next.

“Oh, please don’t, Jason,” I babbled. “Don’t make me—”

“Shush. Listen. You want me to control your daughter, Ms. Carleson. You want me to take over her mind. In fact, it even excites you. The thought of your daughter obeying me makes you horny, and very happy.”

The cool rush ran through my head. Yes. Brittany... obeying Jason.

I wanted that.

“There, now. Your daughter is my slave, Ms. Carleson. How does that make you feel?”

I could feel my reaction.

“Horny.”

“Then why don’t,” he said, and hitched himself back up onto the edge of the hot tub, “why don’t you come suck my dick?” He spread his legs.

That sounded like a great idea. I loved sucking his dick. The taste, the feel, the slight naughtiness of it. I had it in my mouth in a second.

“Think about it, Ms. Carleson. Brittany, as my slave. She’s like you, you know. She’ll do anything I want. Anything. And she loves it.”

I loved it. Wanted it. Visions of my pretty daughter serving Jason danced in my head as I bobbed my head up and down on his prick.

When he came, there wasn’t much reward for me—most of it having already been shot into my pussy. Still, there was enough for me to rub around inside my mouth and savor. He hopped back into the tub, and I lay back against him.

I was still in a questioning mood.

“Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t I notice earlier?”

“Oh, you did. You helped lure her to my house. I had you strap her into the chair.”

Huh?

“I did?”

“Yeah. I just had you forget that.”

“But, why?”

“It amused me.”

“Um. Have you made me forget lots of things?”

“No, not really. There are some fun commands I’ve implanted in your mind, which you are unaware of. But don’t worry about it.”

I would not worry about it.

“Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you call me a slut?”

“Well, you do fuck at the drop of a hat. And there’s nothing you won’t do.”

I felt the chill in my brain, and realized that some part of me had interpreted that as a command. I tried to rebut him.

“Yeah, but, but it’s only you I fuck. I don’t sleep around.”

“True. But I think that just makes you my slut. Accept.”

Without thinking, I responded to the command in a blank voice.

“Yes, Master, I am your slut.”

He slithered a hand up under my bikini top, lifting it off of my breasts.

“Good. Now, turn around. I want to play with your tits.”

On Monday, I was at a client’s until late in the evening. I had told Brittany that I wouldn’t be home when she got back; she said that’s she would go over to Sheila’s.

My client was a chain of grocery stores; a member of their board of directors was also a member of the board of Val-Pak. The grocery chain was going through rapid expansion, and needed a bunch of new leases vetted—their one lawyer was already overworked with several worker’s compensation suits, so they had asked me to assist.

It was going on nine when my cell phone rang. I excused myself from the meeting to answer it.

It was Jason.

“Ms. Carleson, why aren’t you at home?”

“I’m in a meeting.”

“Ah. I came over for some pussy, but no one was home. I think you should walk out of that meeting and come home, so I can fuck you.”

“Um. Is that an order?”

“Hm. How important is this meeting?”

“It’s pretty important.”

“Then no, it’s not. You can come home when you are able to. But Ms. Carleson—”

“Yes?”

“Don’t take so much work. I want you available to me whenever I want.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Where is your daughter?”

I shivered.

“She’s at a friend of hers. Sheila Cavanaugh.”

“Do you have the phone number?”

“It is in my rolodex.”

“Good. See you later, Ms. Carleson.”

The phone turned off.

I had a hard time concentrating on the rest of the meeting.

I was working at home on Wednesday. With the amount of work I got done, my billable hours were a bargain. I took a break at noon for a salad and a quick workout. Working out was just something I did for fun, these days—and it was starting to show.

Jason came over at four. He let himself in; of course he had a key. If I and Brittany belonged to him, so did all of our stuff.

“Oh, hi, Jason,” I said, as he walked in.

“Hi, Ms. Carleson.” He walked over to the desk. “You know, I’m not really in the mood for conversation today. Go into robot mode.”

“Yes, Master,” I heard myself say. “Robot mode activated.”

“Strip.”

“Yes, Master.” Quickly, I took off my clothes.

“Leave the panties.”

“Yes, Master,” I replied. My underwear were a pair of satin panties, with a slit in the crotch. It had only been mildly embarrassing when I purchased fourteen pair, recently. I mean, they sold them, didn’t they?

“Kneel over here and give me head.”

“Yes, Master.” I hurried to comply.

I certainly didn’t suck him like a robot. I could tell that he only wanted me to get him hard, though, and sure enough, once he was, he told me to stop.

“Bend over the desk, and spread your legs.”

“Yes, Master.” I bent over the desk, and spread my legs. The satin panties shone on my ass, pulled apart in the middle just enough to show my pussy.

I wasn’t wet, and it took him some effort to stuff his cock inside me. It was uncomfortable for a minute or two, but then my lubrication caught up with him and I began to enjoy myself.

As I got wetter, he picked up the pace, until he was hammering me against my desk. My pen stand toppled. We panted in time, until he grunted once and started coming, still pumping back and forth. Slowly he stopped, and pulled out. I remained bent over the desk, my hands on the wooden top, breathing.

“Suck my dick clean.”

I quickly turned around, and dropped to my knees.

“Yes, Master.”

I took his cock in my mouth again, and sucked off his come and my lubrication; then I licked all around the area, cleaning his entire crotch. It tasted fine, but the hair was a pain.

“Okay, Ms. Carleson. Robot mode off.”

“Yes, Master. Ending robot mode.”

I half expected to shut down or something, but nothing happened. He pulled his pants back on.

“Thanks for the fuck, Ms. Carleson. You can get back to work.”

“Okay, Jason. Um...”

“Yeah?” He responded from the door.

“When did you...”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Actually, I didn’t see Jason for the next few days. It was Saturday before he came back over. I was in the den, watching television and walking on the stairmaster.

“Ah, there you are,” he observed as he came in.

I stepped off of the stairmaster. “Yes, Jason?”

“Mmm. You look good, all sweaty like that. Nice workout clothes.”

“Thanks.”

“Ms. Carleson, I feel that I owe you an apology. I was kind of, well, brusque the last time we had sex, and it’s been making me feel ungenerous.”

I had nothing to say.

“So I figured I’d make it up to you. Take off your clothes.”

I quickly untied my shoes and tossed them aside. The tight bicycle shorts came off first, and then I took off my sports bra, and stood there naked, awaiting instruction.

“Why don’t you go sit on the sofa, and spread your legs?”

It wasn’t an order, but it could quickly become one, so I complied. Besides, I was pretty enthusiastic about his fucking me. It was always so good.

He took off his clothes as I sat down. I spread my legs obediently, and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. He came over, and buried his face in my crotch. I had gotten used to a lack of foreplay, but I wasn’t expecting him to just drop and eat me; I squeaked and jerked away.

Looking up at me with just a hint of displeasure, he asked “Problem?”

“No, no. Sorry—I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Ah. You don’t want me to eat you?”

“Oh, I do! It was just a surprise.”

“Hm. Okay—where was I?...”

He started slower, this time, using his breath the way I liked. When he kissed me, it was light, and his tongue was a flicker. He took his time moving in, slowly kissing and sucking at my pussy, a little harder, a little harder. When he slipped a finger in, I was way up into my bliss.

Then he stopped.

My first thought was that he was ready for me to suck him, but as I leaned forward, he put a hand on my chest and gently shoved me back down. Looking between his legs, I could see that he was already hard.

“Did you like that?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Want me to put this in you?”

“Yes, please.”

He chuckled, and ran his prick along my labia, rubbing the underside against my wet pussy. I pushed against him.

“I think, Ms. Carleson, that it’s time for something special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah. Come with me.”

He stood up. Disappointed, but curious, I followed him out of the den, and up the stairs. I thought we were headed to the master bedroom, but instead he stopped-

- at Brittany’s door.

Then he pushed it open.

“Go in, Ms. Carleson.”

I was naked! Worse, I was obviously in the middle of sex—my crotch was coated and glistening.

And Brittany was home.

Of course, he had told me to go in. So I did, stepping into my daughter’s room buck naked, and wet between the legs.

“Mom! You’re... oh. Master.”

Brittany hopped off of her bed, and came to the door, where she dropped to her knees in front of Jason. She pushed her cheek to his bare foot, smiling.

Jason was smiling, too. “Enough obeisance, Brittany. Stand up.”

She stood up, a happy look on her face.

“Your mother wants to watch us fuck, Brittany.”

My heart skipped a beat. Brittany looked at me. “Wow. That’s kinky, mom.”

I opened my mouth, but could find nothing to say. My daughter was still looking at me, quizzically. Then she laughed.

“Ha! Gotcha! Actually, I knew that you were Jason’s slave, too. I was kind of hoping he’d fuck us both. At the same time, I mean.” She looked back at Jason. “Are you going to fuck us both?”

“I sure am. Get naked.”

“Ooh!” Brittany threw off her clothes. I just stood, seeing my daughter’s naked body for the first time in years. She was so eager, so obedient. Just like I was.

Jason pressed up against her, and she rubbed herself on him.

“You want me to fuck you, Brittany?”

“Always, Master. Any place, any time.”

“Well, then. Up on the bed. Hands and knees—I want to take you from behind.”

God. I wanted this so much. My own daughter.

Brittany clambered onto her bed, and presented Jason with her ass. He slid his hands along her flanks, and pulled in close.

His eyes caught mine.

“Enjoying yourself?”

I didn’t answer, but my flushed, panting appearance told him all he needed to know.

He gripped his dick with one hand, and slid it up and down Brittany’s slit. She moaned, softly. He kept looking at me.

Then he slowly pushed his way in.

Brittany’s moans redoubled, and the look of pleasure on her face nearly sent me into a climax right there. Jason’s hands were back on her hips, and he started thrusting into her leisurely. I just watched. I could feel my own dampness seeping down my legs.

“Well, hnf, Ms. Carleson, hnh, your daughter, hnh, is as good a fuck as you are. Please, hnf, feel free to finger yourself.”

I couldn’t help it. My hands went to my crotch.

Brittany, rapturous, looked up at me. “Oh, oh, mom, unh, that’s so, unh, naaaaaughty...”

“Okay, huh, Brittany—come.”

“Oh! Oh! Oooooooohhhhh....” she cried out, bucking wildly. Jason pulled out, and she collapsed onto the bed.

“Your turn, Ms. Carleson.”

My eyes widened.

“Brittany, slide up the bed. Ms. Carleson, come here, and get into position. Like Brittany.”

I walked to where he stood at the bed, and climbed on. Brittany rolled over onto the pillows at the head of the bed, still groaning softly. Obediently, I presented Jason with my ass.

“Well, Ms. Carleson, have you ever been fucked by a dick still wet from your daughter?”

God that was hot. “N-no.”

“Do you want to be?”

“Oh yes. Please.”

Jason chuckled. He rubbed his cockhead along my slit, now, and shivers of pleasure ran up my back.

I looked at Brittany, who looked back at me. She lay sprawled on the bed, legs open wide.

“Oh, mom. Fuck him. He’s our Master. God, mom, it’s so hot to see him fuck you. You can’t help it, can you? You have to obey him. We are slaves, mom. We belong to him. And now he can fuck us both.”

Jason slid into me. It felt incredible—he slid in to the root in one long thrust. I was totally soaking already, and his cock was slick from Brittany.

Oh God. From fucking Brittany.

I came, hard, electricity shooting along my nerves. Jason gripped my hips, keeping himself deep inside me, as I shook and cried out.

“Well,” he said, “that’s one for each of you.”

He started slowly fucking me, feeling every inch. I had plateaued—every movement was a strange mix of pleasure and exhaustion.

“Now,” he said, “it’s not quite fair for us, huh, to leave poor Brittany out. Brittany, move your pussy a little closer to mom.”

“Ms. Carleson?”

I knew what was coming next.

“Eat your daughter out.”

There was nothing I wouldn’t try.