The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mad Monday

by Pan

Chapter 22:

As my wife slowly came down from our daughter’s orgasm, she smiled at me.

“God, Andrew…”

“I know,” I smiled back at her. “I know.”

I began to stand up, and a worried look crossed her face.

“Where are you going?”

My face fell.

“I thought…I thought that…”

“You thought that was it?”

Belle’s voice was shrill. She began to sit up, and I returned to my seat as quickly as was humanly possible.

“Of course not,” I lied. “I just…”

Mary shut our daughter’s eyes. She didn’t say anything, but I could see her lips moving—she was silently counting to ten.

When Belle’s gaze met mine again, my wife seemed calmer.

“What’s the time?” she asked.

I glanced at my watch.

“Half past four..”

“Good,” she said. “We still have a little while.”

I nodded, my heart sinking. Never before had ‘a little while’ struck such fear into my heart.

“Now,” she said, bringing Belle’s hands back up to her breasts, the fire returning to her eyes. “You were saying…”

“I want to cum on your tits,” I said, trying to inject passion into my voice. It had been foolish to think my wife would be done after a single orgasm—that may have been enough when this had all started, when I was making out with her under duress, but now…my daughter’s hormones seemed to be feeding into my wife’s sex drive.

It was like a feedback loop, whipping her into a frenzy.

What had I gotten myself into?

“Call me baby girl,” she repeated. It was a nickname I’d always used for Belle.

It made my stomach turn, but I couldn’t argue. I couldn’t.

I knew where that battle led.

“Play with yourself,” she pleaded.

Unzipping my pants, I pulled my hard cock into view. I tried not to enjoy the look on Belle’s face when she saw it.

I tried to remind myself—this was Mary. Mary, my wife. She was the one staring, entranced, at my erection. My wife was the one who wanted me to talk dirty to her.

Not my daughter. Not my sweet, innocent, eighteen-year old daughter.

It was my wife. It was like my wife was…wearing a costume. Dressing up as my daughter.

Mary was dressing up as Belle, calling me Daddy, and instructing me to call her ‘baby girl’.

I mean, as long as I kept that in mind, how weird could it get?

She moaned with pleasure as I followed her instructions, wrapping one hand around my cock, slowly pumping.

As I stroked my hand up and down my dick, Mary moved one of Belle’s hands between her legs. She lifted up her skirt, and it was immediately obvious that a bra wasn’t the only item of underwear she’d skipped that morning.

My wife had spent the day at school, in my daughter’s body, not wearing a bra or panties.

God, why did that make me hard?

“Daddy, so many boys were looking at me today.”

I gulped. Now Mary was putting on a baby voice. What on earth had gotten into her?

“They were all looking at me, and I could tell they wanted to fuck me. All the boys at school wanted to fuck me, Daddy.”

I nodded, not sure what to say.

“They all saw my big tits, my long legs. I just wanted to unbutton my shirt and flash them, Daddy…”

“But you didn’t, did you?”

Mary shook our daughter’s head, a mischievous look on her face.

“No, Daddy. I was such a good girl.”

My cock twitched at her response.

“I was such a good girl for you. I know you don’t want me to fuck any of the boys at school, Daddy. I know you don’t want me to show off my tits for them.”

Belle’s hand was moving faster and faster between her legs. I matched her pace as I continued stroking her cock.

“My tits are for you, Daddy.”

I groaned.

“I’m your good little girl. My tits belong to you. I’m your baby girl.”

I was staring at Belle’s tits as she rubbed herself, Mary’s words seeping into my brain like poison. Despite the fact that she’d cum just a few minutes ago, I could again hear my daughter’s voice getting strained.

“I won’t fuck the boys at school, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” I muttered. I couldn’t help myself.

“I won’t let them cum on my titties,” Mary continued.

“Good girl…”

“I won’t let them use my hot teenage pussy…”

“Oh god, Mary…”


“Belle,” I rasped. “Belle…you’re going to make me cum.”

Faster than I would have imagined she could move, Mary hoisted Belle’s body off the couch and kneeled in front of me. Her hand never left her wet pussy, and as she looked up at me, I could feel an orgasm approaching.

“I won’t let them fuck you, because I belong to you. I’m yours, Daddy. My body is yours.”

There’s something I haven’t mentioned. Mostly because it hasn’t been relevant, but partially because…well, I guess I find it a little embarrassing.

As Mary knows very well, I have a bit of a fetish. Nothing too wild…I suppose you could call it an ‘ownership’ fetish. My wife’s body ‘belonging to me’ has always been a part of our dirty talk. We’ve never gone beyond that—I know some people are into collars, or writing on each other. For us, it’s always just been talk.

I never thought she’d use it like this.

“I’m yours,” Mary moaned, staring up at me with our daughter’s blue eyes. “I belong to you. Cum onto my tits, Daddy. Mark me as your property. Show the world that I’m your baby girl, that you own me.

“Own me…”

With a grunt, I felt myself cumming—Belle’s eyes lit up as I aimed my offering at my daughter’s exposed tits.

My dick pulsed three times as I came, shooting my wad onto my daughter’s face and breasts. Most of my seed landed on her chest, but Mary leaned forward and caught my third shot on Belle’s face.

Breathing heavily, I leaned back and watched as my cum slowly began to slide down Belle’s huge tits. With a groan, she began to cum as well, her second orgasm of the afternoon.

Well, the second that I’d been witness to.

So far.

She collapsed backwards, laying on the floor, writhing and twitching with pleasure as she came.

When she was done, we both sat there in a comfortable silence. I could feel the guilt lurking in the corner of my mind, but I wasn’t letting it in. Not yet.

“Wow,” Mary said, propping herself up on Belle’s elbows. Her face and tits were splattered with my seed.

I wish I didn’t find that such a turn-on.

“Wow,” she repeated. “That was…”

Before she could finish her thought, we were interrupted by the loud beeping of the burglar alarm.