The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a small restaurant, like so many others in downtown Rome, situated at an un busy street corner. Seated alone at a table on the outside patio was a young woman. She was dressed in a snug fitting strapless white dress, cut just above the knees, with matching powder white stockings and pumps. Her sunshine blonde hair was cut fine at the shoulders, complimented by a thin gold chain at her neck. Her bright American good looks attracted much attention from the men passing by, but she ignored them. Looking out over the sidewalk, her expression was vague, as if too wrapped up in her own thoughts.

Presently she was joined by another woman, who was dressed in exactly the same outfit, but all in black. Her hair was dark as well, and thick eye make up gave her deeply shaded eyes. Sitting next to her, she discreetly counted out a packet of Lira notes before slipping it into her purse.

“It’s the man in the blue jacket at the end of the bar,” she said, leaning close to the blonde. “You’ll find the women’s bathroom stalls are empty.”

Without a word of response, the white clad woman rose and entered the shadowy confines of the restaurant. While she was gone, the brunette ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses. Although she didn’t receive as many admiring glances, most would have thought she was still very attractive, though her beauty was much more severe than her companion.

After a handful of minutes, the blonde returned to take her seat at the table. Only on very close inspection would one notice the smudging of her lipstick, the rumpling of her otherwise impeccable haircut. Gently holding her chin, the dark haired woman turned her head so they were locked eye to eye.

“Grace, listen,” she said, “awaken, now.”

Grace blinked, looking around as if bored from waiting. Then she frowned, grimacing.

“Something the matter,” Hannah asked.

“I don’t know,” Grace shrugged. “I just got this really strange taste in my mouth all of a sudden.”

“Here.” Hannah pushed forward a glass of wine towards her. “Wash it down with this.”

Smiling, Hannah took hold of Grace’s hand. It was a fairly innocent gesture, yet Grace still found herself blushing, as she often did whenever Hannah showed her any affection in public. She still had a hard time thinking of herself as lesbian, and being seen as such. Still, the embarrassment that might be generated by being thought of as gay would have been nothing if they knew that her dark haired lover was also her older sister.

The late evening found Grace out on the balcony of their upstairs apartment, dressed now in a comfortable sweater and ankle length skirt. She felt a bit like the proverbial bird in the gilded cage; she’d like to have gone out and explore the night life of this exotic city, she very rarely got the permission. She couldn’t really go out on her own -she didn’t know any Italian, and the ‘lessons’ Hannah had been teaching her didn’t include foreign languages. Prior to this, they had spent time in German and France, staying in similar small apartments that were owned by Hannah’s associates. As here, she was entirely dependent on Hannah to be her guide and mentor, and couldn’t go anywhere without her. She loved being with Hannah, of course, but it would have been nice to have at least a little independance...

“What are you thinking about?”

Hannah stepped up behind her, wrapping an arm around her torso.

“Nothing.”

They kissed, lips sliding against each other. Being in Hannah’s embrace always made Grace feel warm and safe, but when Hannah’s touch became more insistent, Grace pushed her away.

“Please, not right now,” she pleaded.

Hannah raised an eyebrow.

“You’re thinking about something then,” she observed.

“Nervous about mother coming over to visit?”

“Sort of.” Grace took a deep breath. “It’s just... I mean, how do we explain ourselves to her? She’ll never understand.”

“Who says we have to say anything,” Hannah shrugged.

“What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. Besides, there are other ways of persuading people, as I’ve been teaching you.”

Grace looked visibly taken aback.

“But... to do that to our own mother!?”

“Don’t take it so seriously,” Hannah said, patting her on the cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you in bed. Don’t stay up too late.”

Grace watched her go with a sense of unease. She had that same feeling when Hannah had first returned from her studies in Europe. That discomfort was certainly understandable; how do you reconcile having lustful thoughts for ones own sister? She remembered the night she decided to take action, slipping out of bed in the middle of the night to Hannah’s room.

Awake, it was as if Hannah was already waiting, taking Grace into her arms as she joined her on the bed. At that moment, everything finally became clear, all those ambagious emotions and misgivings washed away in a kiss.

At least, that was the way it happened, wasn’t it? Somehow, in between the time she first hugged Hannah at the airport, and that fateful night, her memories were scattered and indistinct. She could recall how she felt, but trying to remember individual events was like trying to piece together fragments of a dream. She couldn’t decide if she should be concerned about that or not.

And then there was Hannah’s secret life, the network of friends she had in Europe that Grace was kept away from. She tried asking her about them, specifically about this ‘Master Weiss’. The only direct answer Hannah gave was, ‘he taught me a great deal, just as I’m teaching you now. I’ll never forget my time serving under him’.

Grace suspected ‘serving’ didn’t mean she was working for him, but Hannah never elaborated.

What Hannah had been teaching her was the theory and practice of something called Mesmerism, a very particular art that allows one to subvert the conscious will of another. The idea seemed incredible and unlikely; a relic from another century. At least, that’s what she thought until given the chance to put that theory into practice herself.

It was while they were in Germany. Without word of explanation, Hannah drove her to an old priory house outside of Koln. The place was strangely empty, apart from a single occupant they found in a well appointed sitting room. She was a waif thin young woman, with scraggly long brown hair and dressed in a faded flower print dress. She sat in a plush red chair, hands folded in her lap, waiting.

Hannah addressed her in German, and the girl nodded in reply.

“Now, put her under,” Hannah told Grace.

“Er, what?”

“It’s alright. She understands English,” she said, coming to stand behind the chair, arms crossed.

Grace took a nervous breath, kneeling down and taking the girls hand in hers. The young woman was probably her own age, but something in those grey eyes told her she’d seen and done a lot more than Grace would be comfortable knowing.

“Can you hear me,” Grace asked, “can you understand?” The girl nodded. Thus began Grace’s first successful induction, weaving together the words Hannah had taught her with the application of her will. For a while she didn’t seem to be having any effect, but finally the girl’s eyes dilated, eyelids drooping in apparent sleep. Hannah then showed her some basic manipulations, having the nameless woman stand on her feet, spreading her arms apart, level to her body.

Grace was amazed how she could remain like that for several minutes, limbs not even trembling -a sure sign of Mesmeric trance, Hannah explained.

Satisfied with the success, Hannah had Grace bring her out her sleep. Again, the process went by fairly smoothly and it was only a matter of moments before the subject was awake and aware. Hannah immediately led Grace out of the priory and back home, not a single word having escaped the lips of the woman they left behind.

Frowning, Grace vacated the balcony for the bedroom. She wasn’t in the mood for Hannah’s affections tonight, but she knew from experience that that would make little difference to her. As always, her elder sister would have her own way...

Mrs. Anabelle F. walked down the disembarkment ramp, nervously biting her bottom lip. This was her first trip alone, and out of the country, and the first time she’d see her daughters in over six months.

With Grace gone, the house had become astonishingly lonely -the infamous ‘empty nest’ phenomena. She’d come very close to taking her husband into letting her have another baby. Being in her mid fourties, it wasn’t too late, though she knew ‘the change’ was right around the corner. Well, she was hardly ready to call herself an old woman yet, but having another child this late in the game wouldn’t have been right, they decided. She’d just have to get used to not being a full time mother anymore, and this visit might be the last time she would see her either of her daughters for a long time to come.

And there they were, standing side by side, in the arrivals lounge, Hannah’s hand resting on her shorter sister’s shoulder. Grace immediately broke into a broad smile, rushing into her mother’s tight embrace.

“My goodness, you two,” Anabelle laughed, overcome with emotion (she promised herself she wouldn’t get this way too), “I’m so happy to see you. Grace, you look so beautiful, so grown up.”

It was true. She’d never seen Grace with her hair cut so elegantly, or wearing that sort of makeup. She looked nearly as old as her sister now.

“You look wonderful too mom,” Grace said. “I missed you so much.”

Hannah gave a thin smile at the scene. For all the changes, Grace was still a sentimental child at heart, the perfect daughter. There was no doubt in Hannah’s mind who mother loved the most.

“Nice to see you again,” Hannah said, giving her a warm peck on the cheek.

“How have you all been,” Anabelle asked enthusiastically. “I can’t believe how you’ve changed, Grace especially.”

“I’ve been taking good care of her,” Hannah said, standing behind her younger sister, teasing the hair back from her ears, “and she’s been very well behaved. But we can talk about all that later. Let’s collect your luggage then take the rail into the city.”

It had been quite a day, and still Anabelle had seen only a fraction of what Rome had to offer. There might well be cities in America as large, but none could match the surreal mixture of the modern and the ancient one could find here.

“Well, they do call it the eternal city for a reason,” Hannah explained off hand.

After a pleasant day out, the three returned home, having already decided to forgo the expense of a hotel room and have mother stay with them. The apartment was barely large enough to accommodate two people, much less three, but none of them complained.

Sitting back exhausted on the couch, she was joined by Grace, who curled up beside her, clinging to her arm like she was a child again. Hannah broke out a bottle of red wine, bringing back a trio of glasses with her from the kitchen.

With the business and excitement of the first day over, the three women sat together, talking little, simply enjoying each other’s company. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Hannah watched the others with an inscrutable expression. The familiar resemblance was certainly much greater between her mother and Grace than herself, having a similar shade of blonde hair and golden complexion.

“I think this jet lag is going to be the death of me,” she was saying, “I feel exhausted, but my body clock is all messed up from the time difference.”

“You can always try laying out on the bed,” Grace suggested.

“Oh, you can do much better than that, Grace,” Hannah said, draining the last of her wine. “Why don’t you show her that trick you learned. That’ll put her under in no time.”

Her mother gave Grace a quizzical look.

“It’s... it’s nothing,” Grace demurred, averting her eyes.

“Don’t be so modest,” Hannah pressed. “I was there when she put this friend of mine completely to sleep, using only her voice and the touch of her hand. It’s a very relaxing technique.”

“This all sounds very interesting,” her mother marveled. “Is it true?”

“Yeah, it’s true,” Grace admitted. “It was only the one time, but, yes, I do know how to do it.” “So, go on then,” Hannah nodded, “I’m sure she’d appreciate your help.”

Grace stared daggers at her elder sister, but finally relented.

“Ok. Just sit back and relax,” she told her, taking her hand and holding it firmly between her own. She had really elegant hands, Grace noticed, just like Hannah’s. She could feel the smooth metal of her wedding band against her palm. “Start by taking deep and easy breaths.”

She did so, looking into her daughter’s eyes. They appeared now to be filled with a great intensity, as if straining to see something in the far distance. For the first few minutes, nothing further was said, the room fallen silent.

“Very good. Keep breathing deep and slow, looking directly into my eyes,” Grace said, her voice talking on a firmer tone. “Listen carefully. I am going to count to ten. Every time I reach the number ‘ten’, you will squeeze my hand. Each time you do this, you will find your strength is weakened, that you’re slipping further into sleep. Now; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten...”

Grace felt her mothers hand contract on hers, then release.

“Well done. And again; one, two, three, weaker now, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.” As before, her mother’s fingers squeezed, using notably less force. Grace could also sense that the natural effects of the alcohol and exhaustion were beginning to take hold as well, the woman’s eyes growing moist and unfocused.

“Drifting further and further down. Very good. Breathing deeper and; one, two, three, four, weaker still, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”

Another squeeze, very short and faint. By now, whatever reticence Grace might have showed had disappeared, her entire focus of will sharp and clear. Hannah watched the transformation of both Grace and mom with secret satisfaction. She sat perfectly still, chin resting on her knees, making no sound as Grace concluded the induction.

“Very weak now, very relaxed, very tired,” Grace was saying. “It’s impossible to remain awake any longer. When I next count to ten, you will no longer be able to squeeze my hand. You will be fully and completely asleep, your mind cleansed of anything apart from my own voice. One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten.”

The change was subtle but definite. The hand Grace held in hers was completely inert and unresponsive. Through half lidded eyes, Grace could see her mother’s wide, blankly staring pupils.

“You did it,” Hannah breathed, coming to crouch beside the sofa.

Grace rose, gently laying her mother flat on her back, folding her arms across her chest.

“Why did you make me do that,” Grace asked, flashing Hannah a cold look.

“Hm? You mean ‘you’ in particular, or why put her under at all?” Hannah said, smiling. “The short answer to both is; so you could experience the feeling I get when I put someone under.”

“When you do?” Grace blinked in confusion. “When exactly was the last time you did that?”

Hannah left the question unanswered.

“Go on, talk to her,” Hannah coaxed. “She’s entirely at your direction. You can make her feel whatever you wish, let her experience whatever you wish. Let your imagination go free.”

Grace watched the steady rise and fall of her mother’s chest as she considered this. True, she could have simply let her fall into a natural sleep, or set her mental clock to overcome her jet lag, but there was so much more she could do for her.

“Mom, can you hear me,” she asked.

There was a short pause before she replied, “yes.” “Do you know where you are?”

“Yes. I am in Italy with my two wonderful daughters.” Grace couldn’t help but smile at the response. Awake or asleep, she’d always be the same affectionate, over-attentive mother.

“I want you to imagine yourself somewhere else now,” Grace told her. “You are somewhere very warm, very sunny. There is sand beneath your feet, and the blue ocean stretches out across the horizon. You are alone, and though you can hear the distant calls of seabirds, you cannot see them. You feel completely at ease, and you lie down on the smooth fine sand.”

“A nice little scene,” Hannah said, her mouth close to Grace’s ear. “Deep sleep.”

Instantly, Grace’s chin dropped to her chest, arms hanging limp by her sides.

Hannah took Grace’s place by the couch, peering at her mother’s contented face, her placid smile. A clean and uncomplicated life had obviously been good to the woman, with only the thin lines at the corners of her eyes doing much to betray her age.

“Can you hear me,” she asked, making her voice as gentle as possible.

“Yes.”

Hannah suppressed a surge of excitement. This was the first time she’d subverted someone else’s induction. There was no guarantee it would work, but she couldn’t resist testing the extent of her powers. It must have helped that she was so keyed into the voices of both her children.

“Tell me where you are.”

“I am lying on a beach,” Anabelle replied.

“You are alone?”

“Yes.”

“Well done, Grace,” she said quietly, glancing over at her sister.

Hannah removed her mother’s hands from her chest, laying them down by her sides. She then crawled up on the couch, straddling the recumbent woman’s waist, but not placing any weight on her.

“It’s nice and warm there, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Anabelle replied.

“And the sand is fine and pleasant against your skin,” Hannah said, leaning closer to her face. “It’s so nice that you don’t even notice at first the way you are sinking into that sand. First your feet and legs, then your hips. Only now to you realize what is happening, half of your body now completely submerged in the earth.”

Anabelle’s hands clutched at the cushions of the couch, her expression shifting to one of panicked alarm.

“It’s does no good,” Hannah informed her, sitting fully onto her stomach. “the sand is too heavy to struggle against. You are helpless as the soft ground swallows you up, your arms and chest disappearing so that only your head remains uncovered.”

A short whimper of fear escaped her mother’s lips. Hannah let her hands trace the ample shape of Anabelle’s summer dress, sifting through the possibilities in her mind.

“You wait anxiously, hoping the sand doesn’t take you any further,” Hannah described., “then, you hear the quiet padding of foot steps behind you. Perhaps rescue is at hand!”

“Help me!! Over here!!”

Hannah made a face -she hadn’t expected her to start yelling. The last thing she wanted was to attract the attention of the neighbours.

“It’s alright, no need to cause such a fuss,” she told her, “the more excited you get, the more the sand will shift and probably swallow you whole. Besides, he’s right next to you, and he steps around to stand before you. He is a young man, very muscular with smooth dark skin. He is an extremely handsome, beautiful man in fact, his chest and legs completely bare. But why is he looking down at you with such a stern expression? And why does he have a knife at his belt? Have you intruded where you shouldn’t? Have you fallen into his trap? Why isn’t he helping you”?

“Please,” Anabelle whimpered, moist tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Yes, perhaps he will help you,” Hannah said, a definite edge creeping into her voice. “But it will come only at a price. First, you must tell me the truth. Only the truth will convince him you are worth saving. And you mustn’t hesitate to answer -once the tide comes in, you will be in a very poor position, trapped in the sand as you are.”

She quickly nodded her assent.

“Now, tell me; what is your name?”

“Anabelle F.”

“You have children?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about your first born.”

“Her name is Hannah.”

“And how old were you when you gave birth to Hannah?”

“I was twenty.”

“Interesting,” Hannah remarked, that being her own age. “Seems a bit young, perhaps. Was it a planned pregnancy?”

“No.”

“So, Hannah was an unwanted child then.”

“Yes, at least at first,” Anabelle admitted. “We had to get married because of it. But, after she was born, everything worked out fine. I love her very much.”

“I see.”

This revelation probably shouldn’t have been any great surprise, but it was something she’d never heard her mother talk about before. So, it was her own unplanned conception that had caused this family to be created in the first place.

“And what about your marriage,” Hannah continued.

“Have you always been faithful?”

“Yes.”

“Has your husband ever been unfaithful to you?”

“Yes, he has.”

Hannah wasn’t expecting this, though the suspicion must have been there to ask the question in the first place. Maybe Anabelle’s sweet and earnest act didn’t translate well in the bedroom. Just what was her parents love life like anyway?

“Tell me, have you ever given oral sex?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Was that before or after you found about your husband’s affair?”

“After,” she said, her expression becoming anxious again. “I didn’t want our marriage to end, so he told me I had to do what he wanted if we were to stay together.”

“Clever ol’ dad,” Hannah smiled. “And now that you do it, do you enjoy sucking off your husband’s cock?”

“No.”

“It tastes terrible, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“But I bet he still makes you swallow anyway, hm?”

“Yes, he does.” Anabelle began to squirm underneath Hannah’s weight. “Please, can you let me up now? I’m afraid. I can see the water...”

Hannah paused. It probably was time to put an end to this little interrogation, and move on to something else.

“The native stranger kneels down, and using the flat of his knife blade, digs away some of the sand from your chest,” Hannah told her. “Then, he reaches down and takes you into his muscular arms, pulling you up from the earth.”

The panicked look dissolves from Anabelle’s face, but it was only a brief reprieve.

“He hasn’t let go of you,” Hannah explained, “Instead, he throws you down on the ground, flat on your stomach, bending an arm behind your back.”

Hannah did exactly that to her mother on the couch, who began to struggle desperately.

“No, he is far too strong for you to move,” Hannah said harshly, “and his is now holding the knife close to your neck, a warning not to move.”

Anabelle shivered beneath her, her eyes flashing back and forth like a trapped animal. Though her daughter was physically weaker, the suggestion was enough to keep her pinned to the couch.

Hannah reached down to pull up the hem of her mother’s skirt, revealing her plain white underwear and the ample shape of her ass.

“Look behind you,” Hannah breathed, “do you see him? He’s taken down his shorts, and is holding the massive length of his erection. Is he going to rape you?”

“No, please, no,” Anabelle whimpered, her hands balled into tight fists.

Hannah hooked her fingers underneath the waistband of her mother’s tan panty hose and roughly pulled them and her panties down to her knees.

“There is no doubt, and no escape,” Hannah rasped, pushing her palm against her mother’s naked pubis. “He is going to violate you. He’s going to put his thick dark penis into your cunt.”

Parting the thick labial lips, Hannah located her vagina opening, feeling about the inner rim with her middle finger. Even in this state, her hole was wide enough to easy accommodate her probing digit.

“You can feel him putting the tip right up to you,” Hannah leered, putting three fingers stiffly together. “He’s not waiting, not even caring; he’s fucking you now.”

Anabelle let out a stifled cry of despair as she felt herself being violated, her daughter’s fingers thrusting into her vagina, pushing hard until they were buried up to the knuckles. With a perverse thought, Hannah realized she was exploring the very same channel she and Grace had first entered the world.

By now, Hannah’s tight black skirt had ridden further up her thighs, enough to reveal the naked space between her legs, and the silver ring pierced through her labia lip. Still sitting astride her, she finger fucked her mother with hard deep strokes.

Anabelle shut her eyes, her teeth clenched in silent defiance of her violation, no doubt praying it would all be over quickly and painlessly. Hannah wasn’t quite ready to give her that reprieve.

“Yes, it’s terrible, isn’t it,” she taunted, “his weight pressing down upon you, his thick cock pushing up inside you. All the more terrible is the fact your body begins to respond. Your cunt grows wet, and your clit becomes stiff from his fucking you.”

Hannah’s fingers worked faster now, aided by the natural lubrication that she’d caused to appear. Anabelle’s breathing became laboured as the sensual feelings of arousal took hold. Her body moved restlessly beneath her daughter, no doubt torn between her feelings of humiliation and desire.

“He’s coming,” Hannah announced hoarsely, jamming her fingers hard and deep. “He’s unloading his hot sperm inside you. You can feel it filling you up inside.” Anabelle let out a short wail. The thought of having an illegitimate child...

Hannah removed her hand from her mother’s womb, looking with satisfaction at her moist digits. No doubt the woman was close to orgasm, but that would come in quite a different manner.

“It’s alright,” Hannah assured her, “you’re back home now. There’s Grace, your dear daughter. Go to her. Let her comfort you.”

Hannah let her mother get off the couch, where she immediately went to Grace, laying down in her daughters lap, wrapping her arms around the girl’s waist as she began to sob. Grace, staring blankly, remained inert and unaware of her mother’s poor state. Hannah reached between her legs, feeling the wetness that had started to seep from her own excited cunt.

Abusing her mother like that was one of the most exciting things she’d ever done. What wonderful catharsis! Grabbing the wine bottle, she took a big swig. Running a finger around the rim of the bottle, she looked down to where Anabelle lay crouched on her side, displaying her generous rump to Hannah’s gaze. “What a wonderful idea,” she murmured to herself, then started to peel away the foil wrap from the neck of the green glass bottle.

“Grace, take off your mother’s clothes,” she ordered. Without protest, Anabelle let Grace pull off her dress, and proceed to strip off her nylons and underwear entirely. Hannah took another deep gulp of wine, staring at the naturally pale smooth skin of the older woman. The hand she had left absently between her legs came to life, moving over the supple skin of her labia in a circular motion as she stimulated herself.

“Get on your hands and knees, Anabelle,” she ordered, “Grace, pull up your skirt. Lay down on your back in front of mom.”

As was always the case, Grace was naked underneath her clothes, her cunt freshly shaved much like her sisters. Neither her nor Anabelle gave the slightest indication that anything unusual was happening, not even when Hannah came down from the couch and lay her hand over her mothers still moist cunt.

“Kneel down, Anabelle,” Hannah rasped, fingering her slit, “Get your face down to your daughter’s lovely cunt. Feel it with your fingers. Explore it in a way you would touch yourself when you masturbate.” At the same time, Hannah licked the end of the wine bottle, placing it in position between her mother’s partly spread legs.

From this angle, it was hard to see what Anabelle was doing to her daughter’s privates, but from the sounds Grace was making, she must have been doing a very effective job. Placing a hand firmly on the small of her mother’s back, Hannah forced her down, the narrow end of the bottle against her own cuntal opening. Pushing the neck of the bottle inside Anabelle’s wet vagina, Hannah reached around to command the erect surface of her clitoris.

The scent of the three women’s arousal was strong in the air. Insensate, Grace was brought unconsciously to the point of orgasm by her mother’s busy rubbing fingers. Meanwhile, Hannah pushed the bottle further inside, the sloping neck of the bottle distending her vagina to an obscene degree, the glass smeared with the lubrication she was producing.

“Come, now,” Hannah ordered, “both of you. Orgasm now!”

The familiar stifled cries of Grace was joined by the unrestrained vocalizations of their mother, who visibly shivered as her cunt clasped against the smooth glass inside her.

In the aftermath, Hannah let Anabelle retire to their bed, placing her in a normal sleep before leaving the room.

As for Grace, she was made to kneel between her sister’s legs and tongue her to a string of orgasms while Hannah licked clean the bottle, draining the last of the wine in a drunken state of euphoria.

It was the same cafe that Hannah usually brought Grace. Together, she and her mother sat and waited at the outside table while Hannah attended to something within the restaurant. Grace lowered her glass of wine, peering at her mother with a strange look. For some reason, she hadn’t said a word since they sat down, a very placid look on her face. Grace was puzzled, given how animated and talkative she’d been since first arriving.

“Is something wrong?”

Anabelle didn’t respond.

Grace continued to frown until Hannah returned to the table. Before taking her seat, she whispered something into her mom’s ear. Anabelle promptly rose, and walked into the restaurant

Grace sensed something was wrong. She looked back into the dark interior and to Hannah, who gave her a prim smile.

“What did you say to her?”

“Hmm?” Hannah blinked.

Grace got up, and started inside, but found herself brought up short. Hannah was holding onto her sleeve. “She’s only gone into the bathroom,” Hannah informed her.

Grace pulled her arm free with a sharp tug. “Don’t do it, Grace.”

Frowning, Grace stalked into the small restaurant. She looked around, but couldn’t see her mother at any of the tables or the bar. Perhaps Hannah was right. Maybe she did just go to the washroom.

Opening the door, Grace glanced inside. Along one wall was a counter with three sinks, all sparking white. Opposite this, there was a trio of bathroom stalls, the door to the closest one firmly shut. Grace gave a brief sigh of relief. She felt a bit silly now to have worried over nothing.

“Mom,” Grace called out.

There was no response. Lowering her eyes, Grace glanced down at the open gap between the floor and the plain wooden partition of the stall. Was that... no, something wasn’t right here.

Creeping into the next stall, Grace strained her ears, catching the subtle sounds of deep breathing. Taking off her high heels, she stepped onto the lip of the toilet, and gently raised herself so that she could see over into the adjacent stall.

The man was standing just before the toilet, dressed in a dark blue suit and sunglasses, his pants trussed down around his ankles. Crouched before him, her head moving back and forth in a slow rhythm, as her own mother, the strangers erect cock in her mouth. Grace stared down at the top of her blonde head as she gave this man fellatio, tears helplessly welling in her eyes.

Stumbling down from her perch, Grace grabbed her shoes and fled the bathroom.

Hannah looked up at her visibly distraught sister as she came to stand before her.

“I tried to tell...”

Grace slapped her hard across the face, hard enough to cut her lip. Hannah tasted the blood in her mouth, watching Grace disappear down the street as she ran away.

That which is hidden cannot remained buried forever. At least, that is what Hannah had been told long ago, when she began her instructions in this arcane art. That night, Grace had climbed up on the balcony and tried to jump. It was Hannah’s own intervention that stopped her, but it was clear now that Grace had reached a point she was no longer completely in her thrall.

Grace confided that the moment she had saw her own mother on her knees in the bathroom, sucking off a stranger, the memories that had been long repressed had flooded back upon her.

But, the one thing that couldn’t be erased was the love Grace had for her sister, twisted as it was by Hannah’s deft manipulations. Grace had her moment of anger, but in the privacy of their bedroom, she was desperate and nervous. She begged to be allowed to return home to America with mom, and only after she threatened to kill herself again did Hannah relent. In the end, she knew that she loved her sister too, and to see her living in misery no longer gave her the pleasure she thought it might.

But, even after seeing them off at the airport, Hannah remained smiling, knowing the secret gift that she had bestowed upon them both.

Leaning back in her seat, Grace closed her eyes. It wasn’t easy trying to sleep on a plane, but she’d be a wreck if she didn’t try. With the blanket spread across her waist, she had her chair tilted back, her head lolled to one side.

Gradually, she became away of something moving along her legs. She assumed that her mother must have already dozed off, her arm fallen to her side next to hers. But, the movement seemed to become purposeful, moving up underneath the hem of her short skirt. Grace hardly dared to move, struck dumbfounded as her mother moved her hand up to the junction of her thighs, unseen under the cover of the thin blanket.

“Oh, God, no,” Grace moaned in a soft whisper. Then she could feel her mother’s breath close to her ear.

“I love you,” she said, her fingers coming into contact with Grace’s naked sex.

Then Grace knew that, however hard she tried, she would never escape Hannahs’ influence. Life at home would be very different from now on.