The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Hand Me Down

On the day that Dakota Trent turned seventeen, she received a very special gift. It wasn’t included in the various wrapped packages and gift bags her friends from school brought over that afternoon. It wasn’t given to her by anyone at the lavish party her parents held for her at the two-story suburban home she’d lived in since she was a year old. It wasn’t even something she’d expected. In fact, the gift that changed everything in young Dakota’s life was given to her by a man at the door, a man who came by shortly before dinner that night and only an hour after many of her friends had left.

It was a school night and as such, Tommy Trent and his wife Jackie had asked that the party be ended early. They loved Dakota and wanted the best for her, but that, she’d been told, just made it all the more important for her to be a responsible student. Dakota knew they weren’t her real parents, just as she knew and thanked God everyday that Jackson wasn’t her real little brother. The boy may have been close to her own age but with the way he acted, she still called him little. He was a brat and a video game junkie and neither one provided much hope for her to ever care being in the same room as the kid.

As coincidence would have it, Jackson was playing one of his games in the living room that evening before dinner. Mom and Dad were in the kitchen busily preparing a special birthday meal and no doubt couldn’t hear anything from the front of the house over all the racket the TV was making. Maybe, Dakota thought, that was why nobody else went to the front door when a series of tappings came.

At first Dakota was curious as to why whoever it was didn’t just ring the bell. But when she swung the door open, she found herself wondering other things. The man was certainly not familiar to her, but the way he smiled gave her the impression he knew who she was. He was dressed in a dark suit, very drab looking hair, and to Dakota looked much like a mortician or some kind of funeral director.

“Dakota, It’s so good to see you. It’s been a very long time.” The man said.

“Do I know you?” The girl asked, keeping the door mostly closed.

The man pulled his hands up in front of him. Clasped in between them was a small package, his fingers seeming to twitch nervously over the outer edges. “No, I’d guess you were far too young to remember me. But I know you. I’d never fail to recognize those beautiful features you’ve grown into. You look just like your mother did at your age.”

Suddenly Dakota stopped being so concerned about who this man was. He’d said the one thing that could instantly snap her from the common sense approach. He’d mentioned her mother. In the Trent household, Dakota’s real mother was never spoken about. All she’d been told about her was that she’d been unable to raise a child. When many times Dakota had pushed for a bit more, both Tommy and Jackie, or as she knew them Mom and Dad, had simply said her mother wasn’t the kind of person she’d like to know about. They indicated she was rather loose with her morals and did certain things that made giving up Dakota the very minimum punishment. Now, she stood face to face with a man who claimed he knew her mother. That was the last thing she’d expected on her birthday.

“My mother...” Dakota stammered. She wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to say, how to ask what she wanted to ask.

“Yes, she had long beautiful strawberry hair just like you. You even have her figure. She was quite a beautiful young woman in her day.”

“Was?” Dakota asked. For some reason having the complete stranger compliment her on her figure wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as she usually found it.

The man lowered his eyes and seemed genuinely dismayed. “Yes, I’m afraid your birthmother passed away over a year ago. It was a real loss to her profession.”

Dakota looked the man in his sad eyes. “Profession? What did she do?”

Suddenly the noise of the video game died down and Dakota realized dinner must be almost ready. The man looked past her into the house and seemed nervous about speaking much more. His fingers seemed to tremble more around the tiny package he held.

“It’s... it’s not important Dakota. What is, is that I was instructed as part of your mother’s last wishes to deliver this to you on your seventeenth birthday.”

He thrust the package forward and the young girl took it, never questioning why he might not want to speak to her parents or come in. In fact only one thought was running through her mind as she held the small box. “What’s inside it?”

The man turned and was already walking away. He waved back over his shoulder and never even looked back. “It’s a hand me down, a special gift, something your mother always kept close to her.”

Looking at the box, Dakota wondered what that could possibly mean. She wondered why her birthmother would instruct that she receive this on her seventeenth birthday. She also wondered who the man was. Had he known her mother? Were they friends, or something more? She looked out into the front yard. The man was gone. On the street, a few neighbors strolled by on their evening walks, somewhere next door a dog barked. But there was no sign of the man. He’d simply vanished.

All throughout dinner, Dakota couldn’t even focus on the delicious meal her parents had made for her birthday. All she could think about was the box she’d been given. It seemed so mysterious and yet strangely meaningful. It was like a birthday gift she’d never expected. And it was the one thing she still hadn’t opened. Unopened gifts always got the best of Dakota. She’d never been one to have much patience and once as a little kid got in trouble for opening her Christmas gifts early. Now, as she sat forcing herself to slow down and eat calmly, Dakota Trent had only one thing on her mind, opening that package.

The conversation at dinner passed by in a blur. Even her annoying brother Jack’s incessant jokes didn’t bug her. Nothing seemed fully there, as though she were passing through the meal in a dream or a fog. Why she never mentioned getting the surprise delivery, Dakota wasn’t too sure of. Later she’d tell herself it was for fear of them taking away the gift. As they’d mentioned before, her birthmother was nobody to emulate. Having anything of hers would probably have been frowned upon.

And so later that night, during the last hours of her seventeenth birthday, Dakota sat on her bed and stared down at the small cardboard box. This was something of her mother’s, her real mother’s. It already meant something to her and she hadn’t even opened it. Tearing into the box, the girl stopped once a small balled up piece of paper fell out. She opened the paper and found what her mother had left her, a thin gold chain with an intricate little symbol hanging from it on a pendant. It was jewelry, her mother had given her a necklace.

Noticing some words written on the balled up paper, Dakota flattened it out. She read what her mother had written, the only words she’d ever received from the woman who her new parents had sheltered her from.

‘To my dearest Dakota, wear this and share what I enjoyed. Become the woman you were meant to be and remember, I’m always with you, ready to lend a helping hand.’

The words seemed full of meaning, but Dakota found that meaning somewhat elusive. She wasn’t sure exactly what her mother meant about sharing what she’d enjoyed and as far as helping hands, how did a necklace provide anything like that?

Whatever the real meaning behind this gift was, Dakota knew almost as soon as she saw it that this necklace was her favorite gift. It was the one birthday gift that seemed to be somehow important to her. There seemed to be a connection between herself and her mother, someone she didn’t even remember. And that connection was centered on this necklace. So as she got undressed for bed, the necklace went on, and there it would remain until she ever had reason to remove it.

* * *

The following morning was a school day, and worse than that, it was a Monday. Mondays had never come easy to Dakota, of course she assumed they never came easy to any teenagers in high school. But this Monday, she woke up in a much different position than she’d ever woken before. It worried her and embarrassed her to the point of blushing even though nobody was in her room to witness it.

When she opened her eyes, Dakota found her right hand buried down her panties. Her fingers were sliding in and out, slowly working herself into a fevered orgasm as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Never before had the girl been even interested in masturbating. She’d had interests in boys and sure, now and then, had entertained touching herself. But this was different. It didn’t feel like she was actually in control. Her hand simply rubbed her cunt, her fingers wet and wildly out of any recognizable pattern of her own movement.

Throwing the covers back with her left hand, Dakota moaned as her right hand seemed intent on finishing this unwanted stimulation. She gasped and clung to the bed sheets with her left fist, clenching and unclenching around her diving right hand. Forgetting all decency and even ignoring the fact her door was wide open, Dakota experienced one of her very first orgasms right there in her bed.

“Ohhh... OHHH YESS!” She cried out.

As her right hand seemed back in her control once again, Dakota experienced even more embarrassment upon looking over at her door. Jackson stood outside, looking in at her with his mouth dropped wide open. He held a mixture of disbelief and pure teenage lust in his eyes and Dakota snatched the sheets up over her body.

“Get out of here!” She shouted.

For once in the brat’s life, he didn’t even have a snide comment to come back at her with. He simply closed his mouth and walked off down the hall. That was how things began for Dakota Trent on Monday morning. She’d simultaneously had the most pleasurable feeling and most humiliating experience in her life.

Dressing for school, Dakota tried anything to forget what she’d done. Why was she so out of control? Why had she been doing that in the first place? And why had she been unable to control her own hand? It seemed like some kind of nightmare, a standing naked in front of the school nightmare from which she’d jumped right into an even worse reality. As she went through the day at school, Dakota wondered how she could ever possibly face her brother. Sure, he wasn’t really her brother, so maybe it wasn’t that horrible. But having anyone see her like that was somewhat terrible to think of.

It wasn’t until lunch that Dakota felt her problems grow worse. And this time she was clearly awake. There was no nightmare aspect to what happened when Dakota noticed a few boys looking her way from the next table over.

“Dakota, hey. Are you there girl?” Her friend Mena asked. The girl snapped her fingers a few times, waving her hand in front of Dakota’s face.

“Huh? Oh... yeah of course. I’m sorry... I was”

“Leering back at the jocks?” Mena asked. The other girl laughed and ordinarily Dakota would do the same thing. But today was different. It felt different somehow.

“I’m not leering.” She said. “I just wondered what they were looking at.”

Mena turned and looked over her shoulder. The group of guys were on the football team, first string, and didn’t need the pads to look as athletic as they most clearly were. They were the most popular guys in school, so why would they be looking at a couple of girls like Mena and Dakota?

“That’s simple.” Mena answered. “What does any guy look at?”

Dakota felt her fingers of her right hand begin twitching. It started as a tingling, then steadily built into a dull throb. She couldn’t seem to fight the muscles of her entire right arm. Her hand moved until it came up just in front of her shirt. She’d worn a regular t-shirt, but one with a wide neckline and some cute fluffy bunnies stitched into the front. Without meaning to, Dakota felt her right hand rest right on the upper swell of her left breast.

Mena looked over, seeing where Dakota had her hand. “Yep, that’s probably what they have eyes for.”

Dakota looked at her friend, then looked down noticing her hand for the first time. The tingling had given way to a dull numbness. It was like her hand simply wasn’t there, but as she stared at it, she saw the fingers beginning to curl. They were slowly dragging up under the wide neckline until they gripped the edge of her collar.

“Nooo.” Dakota whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Mena looked her in the eyes, then put her hand up to her mouth as she saw what the girl was doing. “Stop it.” She said quietly. “Stop pulling on your shirt.”

Dakota wanted to stop it. She even reached over with her left hand and tried to pry her fingers loose. The more she pulled at her right hand, the more the right hand seemed to fight her for control. It was a losing battle and one that only made her look crazy in front of Mena.

The guys were only staring more, even drawing in a few surrounding friends to watch as Dakota tugged her neckline lower and lower, more and more of her large teenage breasts coming into view. She was almost in tears when the inevitable happened. Her right hand pulled the neckline so far down that her bra came into view. It was a plain white simple item that really did nothing to hide what she had underneath. But even that wasn’t enough for the unusual power possessing her right hand. No, she thought. It was fully about serious perversion. Her fingers gripped the edge of her bra and began pulling and tugging. Even Mena stared at her jiggling breasts as her uncontrollable hand managed to finally reveal all to the many pairs of leering eyes.

“Ummmpph...” Dakota moaned. Her left nipple was the first thing to pop out, hard and fully erect in the chilly air of the lunchroom. She couldn’t do anything as her entire left tit popped out and that horrible right hand she now looked at as a stranger let go of her bra and grabbed her flesh. She squeezed and massaged at her breast, bringing gasps of pain and pleasure from her lips. As the pleasure grew and grew, the guys and Mena were completely speechless.

Luckily, the bell rang before Dakota could completely lose herself in the pure unwanted thrill of fondling her naked tit before the perverted eyes of her classmates. For some reason, her hand was fully in her control again and she could even think more clearly. Her cheeks flushed bright pink and she lowered her head to the table. Mena leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Damn girl, If I’d known you had that in you, I might have joined in. It was fucking hot.”

Something about the way Mena spoke made Dakota suspect more than just a passing interest. Beyond all the severe concerns she had about her own sanity, now Dakota had the added curiosity about her friend’s sexuality.

The remainder of the school day went fairly normally. Only once did she feel the loss of control in her right hand and that was once during her last class when her fingers began crawling over and lifting up her skirt. Before she knew it, Dakota Trent was masturbating as good as she could underneath her desk. She managed to control any obvious signs of what she was doing by biting her tongue. But the loss of control was still there and she was really getting worried about what was happening to her.

That night, her parents were out late eating dinner with some friends. It wasn’t like Dakota and Jackson hadn’t ever been left home alone before. But for some reason, this night seemed worse than ever. It started out with normal bickering over when each could use the toaster oven to make their dinner. Then it continued in the living room. Dakota had just sat down and was trying to get some homework done. She wanted to bury herself in school work, hoping the weirdness with her hand had passed. It had been several hours since the last incident. Maybe things were finally over.

Just as she was getting focused on her work, Jackson fired up his video game and the noise and music blared loudly into all corners of the room. For a minute, Dakota rolled her eyes and tried to ignore it. But as with anything Jackson seemed to do, it only got more and more annoying.

“Jackson!” Dakota shouted. “Can’t you play that later?”

He paused the game and turned to look right at the girl. “Hey, I’m not the only one who’s loud when I play with myself.” He smiled. “Am I?”

The blood rushed to Dakota’s cheeks. In all the embarrassment throughout the day, she’d almost forgotten how she woke up. Following the embarrassment was natural and contained anger. She sneered at Jackson and tried to think up any insult she could throw back at him.

“At least I know how to do it. You can’t even play with your joystick there and actually get anything done can you?”

Jackson laughed a little. “Yeah, say whatever you want. It’s not like you can stop me. Mom and Dad aren’t here for you to whine to.”

Again the game started back up and Jackson went back to completely ignoring his sister. Dakota threw her notebook down on the couch next to her. She couldn’t stand the brat. He had some nerve. She jumped up ready to go rip his game system’s cord from the wall, but halfway across the room she stopped. Why she stopped, the girl couldn’t quite say. But what happened next made her wish she’d simply ignored the game noises in the first place. The tingling rose up in her right arm, this time all the way up to the shoulder. And worse than anything, this time her left hand began to tremble in a similar way. It was as if whatever was happening was getting a little bit stronger. It was like it was spreading.

Her hands both flexed and her right arm lifted up to brush her long strawberry tinted hair back over her shoulder. She walked over to where her little brother sat indian style playing his annoying game. Stooping down, Dakota reached up and grabbed his chin, tilting it to look her way.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jackson asked. “Go away.”

Dakota wanted to scream but found her voice calm and still at least somewhat under her own control. “I... I don’t know... I can’t seem to...” She struggled to say what she was thinking. “Please... Jackson... please leave. Please go away before... before I do...”

The boy looked Dakota in the eyes, his own big brown eyes staring straight back into hers. As though he saw something familiar there, he smiled, and laid his controller down. “You know what? No, why don’t you go away?”

She knew she couldn’t and all she could do was gasp in the horror of what her hands did next. Her fingers joined together at Jackson’s crotch and began unzipping his jeans. Without hesitation, her right hand dug inside and found his cock. In seconds she’d pulled it free and was jacking the boy off. Her slender fingers gripped his shaft hard, jumping up and down, thrusting harder and harder to give the boy a hand job. She could hardly look down, keeping her stunned expression on his face. He was in pure hormonal pleasure as she continued to jerk him off again and again.

“Oh damn... Oh Dakota wow. Yesss!” Jackson grunted. He jumped a little on the floor, resting his hands behind him as he leaned back.

“Why? Please why?” Dakota whimpered weakly. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from doing such an unnatural act. She could only stare at Jackson’s content expression as she pounded her fist up and down, grabbing his cock and thrusting faster and faster. She knew what was going to happen. There was simply nothing she could do to prevent it. She could only close her eyes and listen as her hand slapped up and down on the skin of his cock, the smacking noises sounding almost more crude than what she was actually doing.

“Ohhh, unghhh shit!” Jackson moaned.

Seconds later, she felt it. His cock began erupting cum all over her hands. Sprays of the stuff shot up into the air and landed in her hair and on her face. Without even knowing why, Dakota opened her eyes and began licking at her cheeks, trying to pull in any of the semen that had accumulated there. She looked down at her brother’s cock. It was hanging limply in her grip, still occasionally dribbling white all over her fingers.

Her right hand seemed to return to her control and suddenly she let go. But the sensation was still there. The loss of control was still felt and for some reason, it was beginning to feel good. Looking Jackson in the eyes, Dakota stood and licked at her fingers. She cleaned her hand of the thick cum he’d covered it with, then smiled down at him. “There, how’s that for playing with yourself?”

As soon as she’d walked away, the harsh reality of what had happened sank in. What was wrong with her? Why would she ever do anything like that, especially to the brat? She went to her room and spent the remainder of the night in self-imposed exile. How could she possibly face anyone in her family after such an embarrassing act?

On Tuesday, things went from bad to worse. Not only had she woken much the same as before, but this time when she looked over and saw Jackson watching her, her right hand had decided he needed something too. She watched her fingers come out from beneath the covers and motion for the boy to come inside her room. As soon as he had, the real fun, or more torture for her, began.

After grabbing the boy and pulling him into bed, Dakota had wasted little time ridding him of his clothing. She’d then pulled his face to hers and the two unrelated siblings had spent a good ten minutes feeling up each other’s bodies and making out like old lovers. Now Dakota realized just how messed up this whole situation was. The fact she was adopted didn’t make this any less horrifying. But somehow even her words she spoke didn’t want to convey that response any more. It felt like she was simply inside herself watching what happened. She could only regain a little control when her parents knocked on the door to tell her she would be late for school.

At school, the day passed much differently than normal. Her hands, both of them now, seemed to have much more sexual pursuits in mind throughout most of the day. It was a real miracle she didn’t get caught by a teacher at any point.

During lunch, not only did Dakota find her tits bared once again to the observant jocks at the nearby table. She also found her left hand boldly grabbing Mena’s tits through her top and feeling the girl up while hers jiggled openly from side to side.

She masturbated underneath her desk every chance she got. Even when other classmates became aware of what she was doing, she simply put a finger to her lip and winked at them, while her devious right arm went to work down below.

That night, Jackson came into her room uninvited. He stood there staring at her like she was a piece of meat.

“What do you want?” Dakota asked, trying not to look at his crotch, and trying everything to avoid the rapidly growing tingle which seemed to flood both arms and some of her chest.

“I think you might know what I want, sis.” Jackson said.

“Don’t call me that.” Dakota responded, looking away.

“Why don’t you tell me what to call you?” The boy said.

He laughed and went over to shut Dakota’s bedroom door.

As soon as they were alone, the power seemed to overwhelm her body. Her arms lost the battle first, immediately unbuttoning her top and stripping away her shorts she was wearing. Standing before the brat in only her underwear, Dakota found herself saying something she’d never in her life imagined saying.

“So, you want a blow job or something?”

Minutes later, her face was buried in his lap, his cock sinking back towards her tonsils as she licked and slurped and squeezed his shaft with her tongue. For having never done anything like this, Dakota found herself quite skilled at sucking a boy off. She enthusiastically bounced her head up and down as his hands began groping at her body.

Just as he was reaching down to squeeze at her tits, Dakota suddenly realized just how out of control things were getting. She had to stop this. It was not only disgusting and wrong. It was frightening just how good it felt. Acting the way she was acting was somehow changing her. She could feel the tingles and trembling passing throughout her body in waves as Jackson jumped up off her bed, jamming his cock deeper and deeper down her teenage throat. She felt his cock swell in her mouth. She knew what was happening. But all she could do was suck harder, open her throat up wider, and swallow the torrent of seed that exploded from the kid.

Lifting her head, Dakota let a thin stream of semen dribble down over her chin and drop onto her heavy tits. The brat had torn her bra so that one of her tits was completely exposed, the other just barely. Looking down, Dakota Trent watched the valley of her cleavage fill with white cum. It made her feel tingles. It made her feel pleasure. And most of all, it made her say what she said next.

“You can call me slut.”

Later that evening as she tried to fall asleep, Dakota remembered those words. She hadn’t wanted to say that. Just as she hadn’t wanted to masturbate, or show her tits in school, or jerk Jackson off in the living room. Something was happening to her and none of it made any sense. She failed to even try making connections between her birthday and everything that had happened since. All she knew was that whenever she’d had problems in the past, one person could help. That person was her mom.

* * *

Jackie Trent may not have been her birthmother, but the woman had raised her and taken care of her and taught her everything that she considered important in her life. Most important to Dakota the next morning, Jackie was the one she could trust with telling at least some of her problems to. The parts about Jackson could be left until later.

“Honey what’s wrong?” Jackie asked as Dakota pulled her aside.

It was always easy for the woman to tell when something was really bothering her, Dakota thought. It was an instinct and she hoped and pleaded that somehow this instinct would know how to make things all better.

“It’s kind of personal.” Dakota said. She glanced over at the breakfast table, watching her father and Jackson chowing down on cereal.

“Come into the living room.” Jackie said.

Being where one of the unspeakable acts had occurred didn’t really make anything easier about what she wanted to say. So for a minute or two, Dakota stared into space. Her body tingled, even her insides had begun to tingle. It was as if she had a presence inside of her which was growing and growing. She looked over at her mother, the woman she considered her mother, and suddenly found herself feeling better. Jackie Trent was a beautiful woman, long straight brown hair, very motherly looking. Just being around her made things like this a little easier.

“Dakota, it’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong.” Jackie said, after several minutes of awkward silence.

“It’s my hands.” Dakota finally said.

“What about them, honey?”

“They’re making me do things, things I don’t want to do.”

Jackie Trent’s expression took a very serious turn. She seemed concerned, genuinely worried about what Dakota could be talking about.

“Things?” Jackie asked.

The tingling suddenly settled down inside Dakota and she felt herself sink back, losing the control, losing her will. Her next words were not her own.

“Yeah mom, they’re making me do sexual things.”

Jackie opened her mouth just a little, no words coming out. She looked back towards the kitchen, then leaned in closer to the girl. “Your hands are doing this? I don’t understand.”

Dakota felt a grin coming over her face, and deep down she knew just why. Her right hand was already leading the way as it and her left hand reached up and grabbed Jackie’s tits right through her blouse. The teenage girl began squeezing and pressing at her adopted mother’s flesh, pulling at the blouse until the woman’s tits both popped out over the top. She lowered her head and began sucking and biting at the older woman’s nipples. She ran her hands down Jackie’s sides, feeling the swell of her mature hips and the warmth of her skin.

“Stop... STOP IT!” Jackie shouted. She pushed Dakota away and managed to cover her breasts before Tommy came rushing into the room.

“What is it? What’s all the fuss in here about?” The man asked.

Dakota looked up at her adopted father with new eyes. Never before had she seen what a stud he was. She knew exactly what she wanted. Her teenage mind was just itching to get it.

“Your... your... Dakota, she’s...” Jackie said before rushing out of the room.

Tommy looked at his wife as she fled the room, then looked down at his daughter. “What’s going on?”

The control was quickly draining away and Dakota felt whatever had possessed her right hand, possessing her entire body. She smiled and placed a hand over her tummy. “I think I need to go see a doctor, daddy. I’m not feeling too good.”

Dakota had always been a real daddy’s girl and it took little persuading for her to end up in the car less than ten minutes later, sitting next to Tommy Trent as they drove towards a nearby doc-in-the-box. It was a beautiful day and she’d even suggested they put the top down on the convertible he drove. Not once had he questioned Jackie’s response of fleeing the room. He was a trusting guy and Dakota realized just how manipulative she could be at getting what she wanted.

It was at a stoplight halfway to the doctors that Dakota leaned over and let her right hand reach across to stroke her father’s pants. He gasped and looked down at the girl, her teenage face showing exactly what she had on her mind. Dakota stroked over his zipper lightly, and licked her lips as the occasional breeze tugged at her long hair. She leaned over more and began pawing at her adoptive father. She ran her hands up to his big broad shoulders, seducing him with her warmth and aggressiveness. Deep down inside her, the real Dakota Trent knew what was happening, what she was doing. But that girl wasn’t in charge any more. She was new now, different from before. And even Tommy Trent realized it. He hardly put up a fight.

They never made it to the doctor’s office, and neither one really cared. Parked in a back alley about two miles from home, Dakota sat on Tommy’s lap facing the windshield. His thick cock was plugging away at her pussy and sending her into orgasm after orgasm. He reached around and crushed her tits in his hands, fucking the teenage girl as though she were some cheap whore on the streets.

“Fuck you’re so good baby. Just like your mother. So much like your mother.”

Dakota bounced up and down, her thighs clenching tightly. “Jackie you mean?”

“Unghhh... no. No... I mean your real mother. You’re fucking just like her.”

Dakota smiled. That’s what her mother’s profession must’ve been. It all made sense now. Her hands strayed down to each of her adoptive father’s legs. She bounced up and back at him, squeezing away at his cock as it reached new depths inside her body. Her womb opened up and accepted all of his shaft, sucking at it, drawing it deeper. This is what she was meant to be doing. This is what her mother had done. She wanted to fuck everyone, to seduce every man. She saw herself getting rid of Jackson’s video games and teaching him something much more fun to play. She saw herself fucking her friend Mena, bending the girl over the lunchroom table and squeezing her ripe tits so all the boys in school could leer at them both. She saw herself groping Jackie until the woman was so horny she’d fuck anything with a cock. Most of all she saw Tommy here screwing her so much and so full she couldn’t walk.

Hours later, little had changed. Now Dakota was bent forward over the hood of the car as Tommy rammed into her from behind. The entire car shook as he sank his cock fully inside her. He cared little for how loud she shrieked. In fact he told her to let it all out. Tell the world what she was.

“OHHHHH.... Oh yesss! Oh I’m a slut, a sluttttt, a fucking SLUT!” Dakota screamed. Her body was taking a pounding of a lifetime. She had semen all over her face and tits from earlier pursuits and now her entire body tingled. It was a feeling that she now realized started from the tiny necklace she wore. Every movement of Tommy’s body into hers made her necklace bounce, and every bounce made the tingling grow just a little more.

“Ohhh... Unghhh... you have such a tight cunt baby.” Tommy grunted.

“Gee daddy,” Dakota said for effect. “You’re the first to ever use it.”

The man grunted louder and louder, slamming his cock deep inside her teenage body. He grabbed her hips and began the frantic pace that would lead him to yet another climax today.

“Oh yess... fuck me like a slut. Fuck me hard!” Dakota moaned. She gripped the hood as best she could with her hands and suddenly realized just how helping her hands had been. If it wasn’t for her hands, especially her right hand, she might never have fully realized what a nasty little slut she was.

Dakota Trent fell to the hood of her adoptive father’s car, his cock unleashing spurt after spurt of cum deep inside her cunt. Her entire body was sore from pleasure and as the man fell limply over her back, she realized just how good and natural this all felt. It was somehow better this way. It was as though she were finally in touch with the mother she never knew. And all it took was a simple hand me down from a friendly stranger on her seventeenth birthday.

As the semen dripped down her legs and Tommy’s cock twitched inside her, Dakota couldn’t wait to see what she got for her eighteenth birthday.

The End