The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mad Monday

by Pan

Chapter 26:

I rolled my eyes.

“Mary,” I said, trying to sound stern. “What are you playing it?”

I glanced down. My cock was out; my wife was holding it beside my daughter’s face.

“I was just wondering,” she said, her attempt at an innocent look completely undercut by the throbbing erection she was holding. “Who do you think is more attractive?”

“I’m not playing this game,” I said, starting to sit up. Before I could, Belle’s mouth enveloped the head of my cock.

“No…” I protested feebly. “Mary…we can’t.”

“We already have,” she said, pulling my cock from our daughter’s mouth. Belle’s blue eyes were looking up at me. I loved her so much. My wife, too.

I loved them both so much.

“No,” I said firmly, reaching down and taking my erection in hand. “Honey, you know we can’t.”

A mischievous look came across her face. Every time she gave me that look lately, a pit began to form in my stomach.

“Answer the question,” she said. “Answer the question, and we can stop. For the night.”

I closed my eyes.

“You,” I said. Even without seeing her, I could tell that Mary was rolling our daughter’s eyes.

“Who’s hotter?” she pressed.

“You are,” I answered, opening my eyes. She hadn’t moved—her face was still an inch from my cock. Even with my hand wrapped around it, the engorged head was still visible, and that’s where my wife’s attention was focused. “You—Mary.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine for a moment, and her grin grew wider.

“Wrong answer,” she said tauntingly, and slowly used our daughter’s tongue to coat the head of my cock in saliva.

It took a few moments before I was again capable of the power of speech. My wife and I had always had a healthy, varied sex life, and going down on each other had been a regular part of it.

I missed many things about having my wife in her old body; getting head was close to the top of the list.

“But that’s the truth. How can an opinion be wrong?” I asked, willing my erection to go down.

“Because,” Mary said, a huge grin on Belle’s face. “You’re lyyyyyiing.”

She was right, of course. She was always right.

Don’t get me wrong—my wife is gorgeous. And if you’d asked me even a few weeks ago, I would have told you that she was far more attractive than our teenage daughter.

But until the swap, I had only barely been aware of Belle’s looks. And with my wife inhabiting it, steering her young body to reach its full sexual potential…

My daughter may have been the most attractive creature on the planet.

Not that I could admit to that, of course. Especially not to my wife.

“I’m not,” I protested, trying to move my cock out of reach. I was flustered—I’m really not a good liar—and, of course, a part of me very much wanted Belle’s soft pink lips wrapped around my hardness…


No, I was a good father. I would do what my wife needed, but she didn’t need to suck my cock.

She obviously wanted to, but it wasn’t something she needed.

“We had a deal,” she said, looking up at me balefully. “You tell the truth, we stop. You lie, you suffer the consequences.”

From the outside, it would have been hard to describe what happened next as ‘suffering’. I know my wife, and I know myself, and I knew that there was no way I was getting out of a blowjob.

If you were watching, you would have seen a regular middle-aged man getting head from a horny teenage vixen. You would have had no way of knowing that behind the blowjob was decades of experience, but I’m sure you’d have recognized the skill involved, even from the outside.

But even as I received the best blowjob of my life, I couldn’t truly enjoy it.

Intellectually, I knew it was my wife giving me head. I knew I wasn’t cheating, that everything I was doing was completely above-board.

I knew that Mary was the one skillfully stimulating the underside of my cock with Belle’s tongue, taking the base of my cock in her hand, forcing my erection as far down her throat as it could go.

But I couldn’t stop thinking it, over and over:

That’s my daughter.

That’s my daughter.

That’s my DAUGHTER.

My wife had dressed Belle in the old cotton pajamas she’d worn as a younger teen. They barely fit her any more; her huge tits were threatening to burst out of the top, and her ass perfectly filled out the bottoms. As Mary continued to use our daughter’s body to give me head, one of Belle’s hands slipped between her legs.

She was staring at me, a half-crazed look in her eyes as she bobbed up and down my cock, again and again. Each time she thrust her head forward, I could feel the top of my penis bump against the back of my daughter’s throat. It actually hurt, the first few times, but I was beyond talking, and I doubted my words would have had any effect.

Gagging noises were coming out of Belle’s mouth, and a sizable amount of drool was dripping out of the corners of her mouth. She looked like such a wanton slut—giving head as though she was in a frenzy, desperate to be used by an older man.

My daughter’s a slut.

Without realizing, my mantra had shifted. It was still one of horror, but I was so turned on, I couldn’t even think straight.

God help me, I was more turned on than I could ever remember.

My daughter’s a slut.

My daughter’s a SLUT.

Belle’s eyes widened as she felt my cock thicken. She redoubled her efforts, slamming her head forcefully against my dick. I think we both knew that we were beyond pleasure at this point, beyond pain. Our motivation was lust, pure and simple.

My wife wanted me to use our teenage daughter’s mouth, and I wanted to use it.

I reached down and took ahold of Belle’s long, blonde hair. I knew that in just a few minutes I’d hate myself for it, but I face-fucked my daughter, staring directly into her big, innocent eyes as I did.

The only sound in the room was my daughter’s moans of pleasure—each time I forced my cock deep into her throat, she would make a sound—a combined grunt, gasp, and moan.

“I’m going to cum,” I grunted, my voice strained and deep. She nodded, and I noticed her other hand had reached up the thin cotton top, and was roughly pulling and tugging at her engorged nipples.

With a groan, I came directly into my daughter’s throat.

As soon as the first rope of cum left my engorged cock, it was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me.

What was I doing??

I let go of Belle’s hair in shock, and she fell backwards. I watched with horror as another two, three, four strings of semen burst forth from my erection, flying onto my daughter’s face, her cotton pajamas, coating her with my seed.

“Yes Daddy,” she moaned, and I was unable to look away. “Daddy yes daddy please yes daddy, mark me as your property. You own me. Daddy, you own meeeee…”

Her voice grew high-pitched, and her hips began bucking. I forced myself to look away as my wife had a powerful orgasm in our daughter’s body, soaked in my cum, frenetically muttering about my ownership of her.

“I have to go,” I muttered. In that moment, I forgot that it was my room, that Belle—in my wife’s body—was in the house. All I knew was that I was starting to lose control of the situation—and I had to get out of there.