The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The door clicked open—I could hear it all the way down the hall, in my bedroom—but it wasn’t Charlotte’s voice that echoed down from the foyer. “Hello?”

Oh God. I didn’t recognize it.

Again, louder. “Hello!?”

Oh fuck. A male voice.

C— cawk— gha! Mom clenched. The series of images transmitted behind my closed eyes shifted. This last half hour had been a seeming random stream of shiny fingers, swirling digits, loose-lipped cunts filled with hot-pink plastic, but now, the sudden addition of a man. The reminder that men had cocks to pump me full...

I’d—nor had Mom—never thought such depraved thoughts. Never craved such disgusting use. I was a thing. A thing to fuck.

Immah tool! Slab uh meat— Imma fucksleeve— ah ahm so emptyyy pleese Jill—

But this was a whole new world of sensations, desires. I moaned, “Mom please,” desperate for mercy, “Mom we’re so close!”

True on more than one count. The stranger must’ve heard my voice. His footsteps padded down the hallway, cautious.

“Fuck!”

Fuck!

A head poked around the doorframe, and we met eyes. “L—Lucas?” Charlotte’s brother?

But no, we didn’t meet eyes. That was a trick of the light, streaming through the bedroom window like it did every other regular day. Lucas met my mother’s eyes. Gaped, the breath knocked out of him. And me, I found my eyes wandering down to the wriggling between his legs. The indentation pointed upwards. The growing wet spot on the hem of his t-shirt.

The drool dribbling down my chin rivalled my mother’s, soiling the sheets.

A feminine grunt echoed down the hallway, drawing us in.

That smell...Lucas I don’t know if I can—

Images flashed behind my eyes, and it was an effort for me to shake my head, brush them away to focus on the fast at hand.

Charlotte was right. It was a greenhouse in here. One of those glass enclosures at the zoo. The windows must’ve been sealed, and the deeper we walked, the more I could feel that hot silky air hovering around me, dewey on the skin, thick in the lungs.

“Someone’s here, Char,” I could definitely hear murmuring through the kitchen, down the hall. “We just have to check and then we can have another shower. Wait this out.”

Hmnnok, her response, but hurry.

I could already feel it—the source of her urgency. That rising tickle—the prelude to an explosion we’d worked so hard, already, to avoid. That couldn’t be for naught. I wanted my life back.

“Fuck!” A voice from one of the bedrooms. Last one on the left, door open a crack. I padded down the hall, conscious that I was still wearing my shoes, but yet afraid of what I’d find in this house in the midst of an alleged “emergency”.

That’s Gill... breathed my sister, that’s her voice...

Ready for an ambush, I poked my head around the doorframe and—

“Hergk—”

OH!

“L—Lucas?” Gill.

No ambush. Just plain old bush. Pussy met me, caught me, fed me. Wet ready and willing. The source of all steam. The sum of all fears. I couldn’t— We couldn’t—

Aaaah!

Charlotte was screaming. Not pleasure—pain. The elastic. This was serious damage. She surged. This was serious pain.

I pulled up my shirt to reveal her purple head. “Oh no oh fuck.” Pulled at the button to my Levis, fumbling. Zipped. Tore down my boxers.

“Wh— what are you doing!?” Gill screamed from her spot on the bed, one wrist tied to the headboard. Her legs were splayed akimbo, yoga pants at her knees, vulva quivering as if doing its best to grab my attention.

It was working.

AAAAHHHH!

“Charlotte!” I screamed at the ceiling, “stop!!”

But it was too much for her. For us. My heart, beating with the fury of two souls, diverted blood from my extremities. Diverted blood from my brain. Pushed all its heat toward the head of my cock and—

SNAP!

The elastic cracked. Shot away stage-left. I stumbled, bumped over the foot of the bed and landed inches from Charlotte’s fluttering minge.

The face of God was like the sun. And her legs—like pillars of fire.

“Oh this is too perfect!” Sweet voice, somewhere behind Lucas. Young and playful.

How long had she been standing in the doorway, watching us cling to the last shreds of perseverance? His cock at my entrance, fraction of an inch from popping my cherry. How long had we been grunting wordless, losing our minds to one chance encounter? And why couldn’t we move?

“I don’t think I could’ve planned this if I tried!” Tiff giggled. She stepped around Lucas and approached us from the bedside, swirling her wand in one hand like a flamboyant percussionist. “Though I can’t help but take the credit. After all, if it weren’t for me, you’d all still be regular boring old losers.”

I grunted. Locking eyes with Lucas before glancing desperately downwards to catch an angle on his knob. His meatstick. Mom was driving me insane. Had driven me mad with her madness. I couldn’t hear her voice in this frozen state, but my own thoughts filled the hole hers left behind. Just. one. inch. just. the. tip. PLEASE.

But no. Under whatever spell Tiff cast without our knowing, we could only move our eyes. Blink away tears. Veins bulged on Lucas’s forehead. His hips twitched—desperate attempts at a thrust.

“Just look at the four of you,” Tiff smiled, wand swirling, casually stirring the hot air. “Look at what a perfect pair you all make!”

I didn’t know what she was getting at. I hardly remembered it was Mom between my legs, so in-sync were our desires. And worse—I didn’t care. I just needed relief. I just needed to cum. Please fuck me. Please fuck me.

“And what,” my sister pursed her lips, raised her wrist to the light, “only two minutes until your hours are up!” She held the watch to my eyes, though I couldn’t read it. “Are you sure you don’t wanna... crack?”

She leaned forward, her breath in my ear. Wand twirling.

“Are you sure, Gill, that you don’t wanna... cum?”

I did. I do. Please. I don’t care anymore. I can’t anymore. I—

Tiffany leaned back, but shifted her weight uncomfortably. The swirling wand—her amateur hand—a trained witch would never have been so nonchalant. She tried to catch it and fumbled. An arc across the side of the bed.

Clack.

Square between my eyes. I blinked—shook my head. I could move.

FUCK ME PLEASE OH MY GOD. Mom’s screams renewed. Redoubled. One minute left, and I needed it more than anything.

I grabbed the first phallic object I could reach with my one free hand and shoved it deep into my pussy, deep into Mom, crying out in epiphany. Those eight inches of hardwood slid into us like a hot knife through warm butter. My cherry didn’t pop—it melted.

“Ooagh!”

Naawwhg!

Tiffany leaped to her feet and shrieked. “What the fuck! Stoppit!”

But tidal wave was already approaching. Innan out innan out schlick schlick schlick. Convulsions. Clench clench clench mother was speaking in tongues and—

ZAP

Smoke.

Steam.

Sulphur.

Lucas was lifting me up. Ripping my wrist free of the headboard. Flipping me over before the smokescreen had settled. Tucked my knees beneath my stomach and raised my ass for a degrading primal presentation. Mom’s wand glided wet out of my sloppy lips, a deluge of grool in tow. To our right, Tiffany’s clothes were scattered across the floor.

I could move again.

Lift the girl…

I lifted the girl, pulled her arm free rougher than I’d intended.

Spread her... Show me…

Hands and knees, Gill slouched facedown on the bed, ass in the air. I spread her cheeks, fat, warm, drooling. Her rosebud was convulsing. Clenching twice as fast as my heart was beating. Winking at me. Inviting me…

I— I’m gonna cum.

I lifted my sister to her ex-best friend’s pussy. I could feel the heat radiating from the greasy mound. I breathed a defeated “I’m sorry” to nobody in particular.

It’s wurf it… just lemme go inshide and it’s worff it…

Charlotte was resigned. I could feel cum pumping halfway up her rod.

“It’s over.”

Pffrt?

An embarrassing question from behind me. A stirring—from within me. I blinked.

And then I knew. Don’t ask me how, but I knew it to be true. Tiffany. Tiff. She was pulsing. She was racing. Despite not being able to hear her the way I could still hear Mom, I could feel her panic. Emotions rising and falling in time with the clenching of my butthole.

Mom’s final spell: Tiffany was my sweaty, grool-smeared rosebud. My sister was my asshole.

And then Lucas pushed. He pushed, and it felt like he kept filling me forever. My sister clenched around him, screaming. None of us had ever felt so full.

And wandering thought, who knows where these things come from: what did she mean by “the four of you”? And why had he called out for Charlotte...to stop...

Lucas. Oh God. Charlotte. How. When? Inside!— Oh—

“Ohh!! Charr!?”

Fuck! Fuck!?

N— NO!

“Take— Take it!!”

Deeper— PUSH ME DEEPER! YESSS!