The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tonn Vesik was quiet on the carriage ride back to the estate, but no one saw that as unusual. He often spent the night talking to associates, nobles, and hangers on, so him decompressing on the ride home was nothing much to think about. Jeron and Sere talked about the night together as the carriage traveled the streets relatively smoothly. Tonn picked out a few interesting pieces of information and asked them to elaborate, but the answer was lost in a haze almost immediately as the response came. He was seated next to Sere and that was the only thing that stuck in his mind. Her lyrical voice, the slightly spicy scent of her perfume, and the knowledge that her body was so very close kept him on edge.

Images roiled in his mind, thoughts and desires once buried or never even born until this night asserted dominance. He felt weak to them and powerful because of them all at once and it was a heady sensation. He looked around, noting only the dim light that floated by from the street lamps and how it floated across Sere, illuminating her gown. Six seconds. He could count six seconds before the light angled down her gown. His hazy mind grabbed the rhythm as an anchor as he focused on the legs beneath it, imagining their shape, and how supple they must be. He knew they would pull away from the main thoroughfares, albeit briefly as they approached the manor, and, at the first turn, when there would be blackness the rest of the way, he placed his hand on her knee.

Sere thought nothing of the touch at first. It wasn’t usual in and of itself, but she noted that it lingered and his fingers sank into the fabric to dimple the flesh beneath. She stiffened at the feeling. Father? She said nothing aloud. Perhaps she was misunderstanding the meaning, and, if she was there was no need to make a scene with Mother there.

His hands drifted up her thigh and curled inward. There was no denying where his interests were focused. She placed her hand over his, fully intending to remove his hand from her thigh. When her palm rested over his hand Sere’s thoughts clouded. She wanted to remove his hand. The intention was there, but she just couldn’t quite send the thought to her body to have it carried out. His hand moved down with hers, and, as it did, tingles and a happy warmth moved from her neck and over her breasts to rest in her belly and build before spreading to her clit and flowing to her toes.

The first time the sensation rolled over her, there was confusion. The second time, there was some small wonder as to what to do about it. The third time, she lifted his hand to her thigh and sank back into her seat as her mother rattled on about whatever. It didn’t matter that her mother was talking. It didn’t matter that the hand trying to be felt through the layers of clothing was her father’s. When you could just lie back and feel warm as though you were wrapped in thick blankets shielded from a bitter night while your pussy dripped dew all over her panties, what did the cause matter?

She lost track of time and the only thing that startled her back to the now was the slight jostle as the carriage stopped and the hand that reluctantly disengaged from hers. Once she came back to the now though she saw the lights of her own courtyard. She shivered, staring down at the ground, or the backside of the horse, or the door at the end of the walkway that led to her home, essentially anywhere but at another person, as she was sure she was exposed to them. She was certain that they could see through to what she’d felt moments before. She was certain that they could see her shame. The air slapped her and the forceful placement of one foot in front of the other gave her back her control. Sere walked behind her parents and by the time they’d reached the halfway mark to the door, the intensity of the feelings that had taken hold had faded to the point where she could have almost dismissed them as a combination of too much dance and wine. By the time they’d reached the door, it all had the ephemeral quality of a dream.

Once inside, things seemed back to normal. Lord Vesik had even started conversing more as the staff hovered around them, taking their things, asking about the party, and generally just doing what they’d always done.

Jeron reached her hands and began to put her hair in a more relaxed state, quite happy to be home. She spoke as they made their way to the living room “Did you see Lady Bane’s dress?”

Sere knew exactly where her mother was going and she responded with mockery, “They have always ‘lived modestly.’”

“One would think they might try to look the equal of their peers on at least rare occasion. I swear there is southie blood in their line.”

“Mother!” Sere wanted to laugh.

“I’m sure it’s true.”

Following her mother’s lead, Sere freed at least some of her hair from the ornate coif that took two handmaidens no small amount of time to put together. As it fell down her neck her eyes met her father’s. They were always dark, but now they seemed to smolder. There was something wild and untamed behind them now, and, as it sometimes was when the prey locked eyes with the hunter, Sere found she could not look away. Indeed, the more she tried, the more his gaze seemed to hold her. She could see that his own body was rigid, though the small twitches in his face made it clear he was making a mammoth effort to fight something within him. But, with a hard swallow, the conflict was resolved. “Get upstairs to my room,” he told her firmly.

She shook, feeling like that prey animal as the predator circled. She explored the feeling with morbid fascination, as though it were happening to someone else. “Father?”

The fevered edge to his demand snapped her to, “Now.”

Jeron was at a loss and it showed, “Tonn, what’s wrong?”

“Not here,” he snapped. Upstairs.” He focused again on Sere. “Now. Don’t make me say it again.”

Sere’s legs found the will to move as she headed from the room and down the short hallway to the stairs, lifting her dress as she took the steps probably faster than was safe. She could hear them behind her. She could hear her mother plea with him to know what was going on while she could hear his breathing, quavering and rough in the air and it urged her forward, those tingles wracking her body once again, to the point where she wasn’t sure if she was moving so hastily to try to get away from whatever was to come or to get to it.

She opened the door to the master bedroom, walking in and turning towards the doorway to wait for them, footfalls growing louder as the seconds passed. The master bedroom was like the rest of the house in that it was a monument to excess. The bed, as large as it was only took up a small portion of the room, covered in a thick burgundy quilt and plush pillows. The vanity and small desk at the other end of the room alone cost more than some families made in a year.

“Tonn, what’s wrong? What’s gotten into you?” Jeron rushed in not more than half a step behind him.

“Close the door,” he told her.

She complied quickly. Once done, she turned to him, exasperation evident “Now, exactly what’s going on?

“What’s going on,” Tonn began, looking down at his daughter as though he were passing sentence, “is that your daughter is a slut.”

Sere’s jaw dropped and Jeron blanched, “Tonn Vesik, how can you suggest…?”

“I saw how you were with Markus. I saw it in your eyes. You know him in all the ways you should not until your wedding night.”

She shook her head slowly, “No, Father.”

He smiled, lips twisting upward, “Slut and a liar. How much more disgrace are you going to heap on your parents and your House?”

Jeron looked to her husband, uncertain of how to react. Certainly he could be rigid in what he believed proper, but this was not something he’d ever made mention of, even in passing. She tried to make light of it in an attempt to diffuse the situation that seemed on the edge of control. Keeping her voice low as though she feared the rest of the house hearing of her own transgressions, “My sweet, you know we did not wait for our wedding. She is betrothed and happy and the wedding is but a formality so what does it matter?” She took his hand in hers to calm him, but, almost at once she found the world becoming hazy around the edges of her vision as a rush of feeling seemed to come from everywhere to hold her in place. It came from everywhere, yet, if she had been able to sort through it she would have found that it had a center behind the brooch at her collar.

Not that it would have mattered.

“That was your fault, he told her, strangely calm as some of the itch he had been feeling was now shared, even as his eyes still carried their own special brand of insanity. “Those breasts. Those hips. Those eyes,” he began as he looked her over. “I was noble. I would have waited, but I was young and you used your wiles. You ruined me. You’re a slut.”

“Jeron?”

“You’re a slut just like your daughter. Why should I be surprised that I couldn’t stand against that? You must be where she gets it from.”

“I’m not a...”

“Slut?” He sneered at her, “Of course you are. Or don’t you remember your heels in the air in your mother’s garden, hoping we could finish before she returned. Whose idea was that? It wasn’t mine. Who slid their hand down my trousers to seduce me into your slut hole?”

Silence.

“Answer me, Woman.”

“It was mine,” she said in defeat. “I did that.”

He savored the victory. “Do fine women from fine families behave that way?”

She looked down at the floor rather than look at him as the truth seared her soul, “No.”

“Then what are you?”

He’s right, of course. It was my idea. He protested, but I persisted until he was a beast in the grass, anxious to finish, neither of us knowing how much time we had before we were discovered. I hadn’t even cared for my own satisfaction. All I wanted to do was drip him the rest of the day, knowing he was sated and that I was going to drip him all through another boring gathering with my mother and the crones she called friends while I played with the dirty thoughts.

And there were other times. There were times just as lewd and raw as that that were my idea, too. He’s a man, so he had drives and needs and I thought I was seeing to them in a way we both enjoyed. But...each time he protested, even when it was with a smile and a paw of my body… It was me. I must have corrupted him. Oh, Goddess, how vile I am. He was noble and proud and I corrupted him and took pleasure in it.

“I’m a slut.” Shame dripped from her lips.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m a slut.” This time certainty joined the shame.

“The only reason you’re not a courtesan or some tavern whore right now is because of me.” His voice and demeanor demanded her gratitude as he looked down upon her in more ways than one. “I restored your respectability. I tamed you. Even though you ruined me I loved you anyway and I tamed you.”

“Thank you, Tonn.” She kissed his hand reverently, as one might kiss the hand of a God. “And I love you.”

He glanced in his daughter’s direction, “I shouldn’t have failed this one, but I did. That was my error. I indulged her, let you indulge her, and I foolishly forgot after years of your proper behavior that any daughter of yours would want to be a slut and would need taming.”

Jeron nodded in understanding and stepped aside.

Sere’s gray eyes were wide in shock as the world seemed to break apart and reassembled itself into something that had the trappings of the familiar, but was twisted like the image from a funhouse mirror. The bizarre nature of what she just watched transpire was enough to grant her lucidity, She didn’t know what was happening, she just knew she had to leave. “I don’t understand what’s going on with either one of you but I’m leaving.”

She turned for the door but he stood before her with those wild eyes that seemed to grab her and not let go. Those eyes were draining her somehow. She could feel it. “Mother, put a stop to this.”

Her response would have seemed completely casual if it weren’t for the words coming out of her mouth. “Your father is right, Sere. You’re stubborn and willful and need to learn your proper place.”

“Bend over the bed, Sere,” he commanded.

The door was so close even as it now stretched into the distance, fading next to the power of his voice and his burning dark eyes.

“You’re willful and out of control. You need to be trained to be proper.”

Her mouth opened to speak but the words wouldn’t come together.

“Bend over the bed, Sere.”

This time the tone was coaxing. Just as firm in it’s own way, but more encouraging than demanding. It tickled the base of her spine and she found herself turning on her heels and staring at the oil-painted landscape over the headboard. Why did I do that?

“Lift your dress, Sere. Lift it now. Let your father help you be proper.” There was that tone that enticed and commanded.

I have to leave. The thought was a force in her mind. It had a firmness that few other thoughts had been able to manage in the last few minutes and she could feel her body responding.

To lift her dress with both hands.

She knew how she looked and she trembled, more from being exposed to them than from the air of the room. She buried her face in the quilt as she imagined the view; expensive heels and delicate stockings and garters and white panties made of the finest silk. The extra touch of cool against her skin betrayed her.

“See, Jeron?” His voice carried triumph again. “She’s wet.”

“You were right, Husband,” her voice tinged with disappointment “Slut.”

“Just like you.”

“Yes, Tonn.”

“Panties down as well, Sere slut.”

Sere pulled them over her rump and down almost to her knee before she felt her father’s boot position over them and between her legs to push them down enough so that she could step out of them. Once she did, her hands went back to holding her dress up and her body exposed to them both.

What lifted her head from the quilt was the tinkling metal on metal sound that came with him undoing his belt. “Your first lesson needs to be about honesty, as you have been lying to us for quite some time now.” He bent the black leather in half, reached his arm back and brought it firmly to her ass with the twist of his hip. She cried out as the pain swept through her.

“You are fucking Markus, aren’t you, Sere?”

The shock of his language and his actions was near equal to her shock over the pain. She could count on one hand the number of times either of them had cursed and neither of them ever used language that gutter. And he’d never even taken the belt to her as a child much less as a grown young woman betrothed to a man and on the cusp of her own life. “Father?”

He struck the meat of her heart-shaped ass again, “You will answer, girl. I will accept nothing but your answer.”

Crack.

Crack.

Sere could tell her ass was red. The heat from it could have warmed the entire house for the winter.

Crack.

Crack.

Each strike wore away a little more resistance. When the pain would ebb, she could feel that she was changed and changing still.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

“You are fucking, Markus, Sere. I know it because you are your mother’s daughter and your mother is a corrupting slut.”

She could feel her pussy cream at the words and the belt and it was harder and harder to think of anything but the pain and her father’s filthy mouth and the fact that he could see her wet cunt and the fact that he was beating Sere down in front of her mother.

Crack.

Crack.

She was crying out in pain and joy, the shame and sense of propriety being slowly worn away. She couldn’t stop it. He’d keep at her until she obeyed anyway. With each strike and the pain came clarity.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fucking Markus! Is that what you want to hear, Father?”

“I knew you were. I saw it in your eyes on the dance floor. I saw it in your body. You were too familiar with one another. How long?”

Crack.

“Not long after you sold me to him.”

Crack.

“You did, you know. I know you did. You call it betrothal, but you never cared if he was a match for me, or what I wanted. It suited the House, so it was done.”

Crack.

She hissed through the pain. “But the House matters and I am dutiful, so I said nothing as my father sold me to his family like a whore. I am a paid for whore, so why shouldn’t I fuck, Father?”

Tonn’s heart thundered in his chest and the sound of the blood rushing through his ears was like a gusting wind. He never felt so alive. This was his place. The sluts needed him to control them and punish them when need be. Her words caused his cock to thrill and make demands of him, but he wanted to torment himself further as much as her. “Do you suck his cock, Sere?” This time he cracked the belt against her thighs.

She wanted to laugh “Unnnngh….. Of course I suck his cock, Father. I am an obedient whore. I swallow every drop of his spend, too. Most men will stray anyway, but a proper woman doesn’t go out of her way to give him reason. She does what needs to be done.”

Crack.

She wallowed in the filth, “Want to know something else, Father?”

He snarled at her. “Tell me, untamed cunt.”

“Three more and I will.”

She shrieked as the belt hit her body five more times. She laughed a wicked laugh through the pain, “I let him fuck me up the ass, too.”

Jeron squeaked like a mouse at the words. She had been virtually rooted to the floor since her daughter’s panties were shed, unable to look away with no desire to do so anyway. She’s a slut like me. She’s a hot, dirty slut. She reached behind her and began unfastening her dress. She’d never felt so aroused or docile in her whole life. She’d always deferred to her husband, but that was different now and she knew it. He controlled and she obeyed. He might punish her for being the slut she was, even in the privacy of their home, but she knew he wanted her to be the slut she was.

She shimmied out of her dress, leaving it a heap on the floor, The sight of new flesh in his periphery made him look at her. He always liked her build. He liked the way her hips fit in his hands. He liked the way her breasts still stood proud and firm. There was added softness here and there with childbirth and the passage of time, but she was still much as she’d been in the first days since they met. Yes. That is mine. That’s my slut.

He paused his work on Sere’s ass to watch her nude form climb the bed and sit on her knees so that mother and daughter were face to face. “Have you ever eaten a cunt?”

She shook her head as her eyes, wild now in a way all their own, looked at her mother’s naked body. There was revulsion. There was that sense of wrongness, but that just made the intensity of it that much more delicious and her fall that much more difficult to resist. “No, Mother. Have you?”

“Not often, she admitted without shame. “But, when the good of the House demands that a deal be struck and a concession be made, so be it.”

“You really are a slut.”

She snickered.“I am, but no more so than you.”

Her voice had a musical quality just then, “I’m going to learn, aren’t I, Mother?”

She rose slightly so that she could unto the line of buttons down Sere’s dress. Pulling it over her shoulders and helping her out of it as Tonn threw it in a pile on the floor next to her mother’s.

Slapping Sere’s ass with his bare hand, he pushed her up onto the bed as the women eyed one another. “You will. We will keep each other tamed. Your father works hard. He does not need to be concerned with us day and night.”

Weight added itself to the bed and Sere glanced over his shoulder.

“You know what happens now,” he said.

“Yes, Father.”

“Say it, slut.”

“My father is going to fuck me.” She craned her neck to see that everything about his body was long and slender and her pussy clenched.

Not right away however. Over and over, he rubbed his cock back and forth across her still burning ass, leaving trails of drool as he did. She watched her mother and she enjoyed the feeling that was like the caresses in the carriage that lulled her. Finally he’d had enough play and placed his cock between her lips that were already creaming. She spread her knees wider in acceptance and he drove home, Her hips fit nicely in my hands, too.

He gave a grunt of pleasure as she felt his balls against her and began to fuck vigorously. Harder and faster until everything from his lips was a grunt and hers was a whimper. He reached, grabbing her hair with both hands, using it almost as reins. Appropriate. The slut needs breaking. “You believe I sold you?”

“Yes, Father. You know you did.”

“If I did, how could I do that, bitch?”

She worked through the question in her mind even as the bed creaked and her pussy clenched and milked in rhythm to his thrusts and again every time she thought of the wickedness of the moment and being plowed by her own father while she contemplated sliding her tongue up her mother’s pussy. She sighed as she answered, “Because I was yours to sell, Father.”

“Yes. Yes, you are, Sere. Since you are mine, the betrothal is over. I will inform his parents and compensate them accordingly.

“Yes, Father.”

“Only I am man enough to keep you tamed, just like your mother.”

She pushed back into him roughly, “Ohhh, yesssssss, Father.”

Sweat dripped onto her back, “Say it.”

“You’re the only one that can tame me.” Once she said it, she realized it was true. Markus would never be able to make a woman like her behave. He was wrapped around her finger already. She needed her father to do it. He was the only one that understood what she needed.

“I will tell you to fuck me and you will obey.”

“Fuck, yes, Father. I surrender to you. I’ll do anything you want.”

“That includes this ass of yours.”

She gave it a wiggle. “As you wish, Father. Fuck me.” If he wanted to make it her sole purpose in life to be his masturbatory tool, there were worse kinds of slut to be.

Jeron slid her body down the bed, legs splayed, thick pubic hair on full display, “Ready for your next lesson, Sere?”

She bit her lip and kissed the belly beneath her, “Yes, Mother.”

With the dawn came a new day and humiliation for all three as they found themselves in a tangle on the bed, fully aware of what they had done, as if the sight of one another’s naked bodies covered in dried sweat and the remnants of sex weren’t enough. They got away from one another quickly, Tonn bathing and gone as quickly as he could go. Usually unafraid to look at his betters amongst the staff, he couldn’t bear to make eye contact with any of them, knowing that someone heard and, if the fact hadn’t already been making its way through the house, it would soon. There was no way something like that would stay secret for long. All he could hope for was that Cassea could make sure that it stayed in the house. He resolved before the Goddess that no such thing would happen again and when he spoke to Jeron and Sere about what he only referred to as ‘that night’, they readily agreed.

That resolution to the Goddess herself lasted a grand total of six days.

Able to resist no longer, he’d found Sere in her room on the sixth night. She balked briefly as she tried to resist her own urges, but the second time dragging his cock across her lips she’d whined, parted her lips and took it all in.

After that, things escalated steadily. They had gone from sneaking off whenever they could while exchanging furtive glances and subtle touches at home to fucking so openly that the staff simply avoided them as much as possible. Jeron either roamed the house looking for them to watch and be a part of it or she and Sere were together themselves. Only Cassea seemed to understand and did her best to keep the house running as well as represent the Vesik’s where she could, but she could only do so much, as it reached the point where they couldn’t be out for more than a couple of hours before they were so confused and distracted by one another, or the thought of one another that they could barely function. Tonn missed meetings of Court and, slowly but surely, his businesses began to suffer without him.

They knew the annual equestrian show was upon them and to skip it would be a slap in the face to Court that couldn’t be undone. With effort, the three prepared, and even went so far as to each take separate carriages to the riding grounds to minimize the time they would be so close to one another so as to perhaps cause a scene. Things seemed to be working well enough that Tonn even contemplated things he might be able to do to repair the various relationships damaged by his absence.

Their mistake however was, in their earnestness to reclaim their place at Court, they chose to arrive well before anyone else. Idle hands lead to dark deeds and Tonn’s finger’s ran through Sere’s hair as he told her, “We have time for something quick.”

That was all she or Jeron needed to hear. They could control themselves. The day had gone well so far. They had time, Father was sure of it. They would be done well before anyone arrived and a quick vent would let them get through the afternoon.

They were certain they had time even as they lost track of it in their mad tangle of fingers and tongues in one of the empty stalls. They were certain of it right up until the moment the sight of Jeron tongue kissing Sere even as she clawed her father’s back as they all spewed obscenities at one another was witnessed by a crowd of the Lords and Ladies of Court.

It had been the only thing that made them able to stop before they were physically exhausted in recent memory.