The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The next morning, Diane called Jody.

“Hi there,” Jody answered, her typical greeting for anyone whose caller ID she recognized.

Diane paused a half-second before responding, trying to parse whether there was some tinge of Silken-influenced flirtiness to Jody’s voice, or if Diane was merely hearing what she wanted to. “Hi yourself. Just wanted to let you know Tom and I had our appointment with Dr. Beine.”

“Oh? What did you think?”

“It was very helpful,” Diane said, choosing her words. “Our relationship has already grown a considerable amount.”

“That’s wonderful. I had a feeling it would.”

“I was wondering, Jody…had you experienced something similar with Dr. Beine?”

Jody laughed. “Well, what happens in therapy is supposed to be held in the strictest confidence, isn’t it?”

Maybe Jody hadn’t been enslaved after all? Or maybe it was Jody being coy. That would be like her. Diane decided to press on. “I know, I know. It’s just, assuming we had the same experience, I would like to talk about how one integrates one’s husband into therapy.”

“Ah,” Jody said. “That’s understandable, but still, not sure if I should discuss specifics. At least, not over the phone.”

That was telling. “It’s been a while since we got together,” Diane said. “Maybe we can grab coffee in town tomorrow morning?”

“How about the early afternoon at my place? Tom and Aidan will be out of school by then. I’m sure they’d like to hangout too.”

The next afternoon, Tom and Diane pulled up to Jody’s home. A mid-century modern home more sprawling than most of its contemporaries, its floor-to-ceiling windows stared out onto the acres of solitary woods that surrounded the residence.

As she turned off her SUV’s engine, Diane asked, “Did you see Aidan today?” Like Tom, Jody’s son was older than most of his high school peers, an eighteen-year-old senior killing time before college.

“Nope. Don’t think I’ve even seen him this week. We don’t have any classes together, and the football and soccer teams don’t really mix during the season.” Despite the image conjured by his trendy name, Aidan was one of the local prep school’s hulking tackles.

Diane said nothing as she regarded the home’s wide windows. Hard to imagine a Silken with a home so open to outside view, yet its seclusion might be enough that it wouldn’t matter.

Tom placed a hand on his mother’s stockinged knee. “You okay, mom?”

“I am,” she said, enjoying the warmth of his palm against her nylons. “Just wondering what do I say to her if she’s a slave like us? What would she say if isn’t?”

Diane was in her usual black pantyhose. Beneath his jeans, Tom was wearing a matching, sheer-to-waist pair. “I always thought Aidan’s mom pretty hot. Do you really think that Dr. Beine would let pass a chance to make her a hose slave?”

“You never know.”

He moved his hand up her leg, and beneath her A-line skirt. As was Diane’s habit ever since her conversion, the crotch of her hose had been cut out so that her son could have free access to her pussy. The only thing covering her slit was a thin pair of black, nylon panties, sheer as her hose. Tom’s finger’s probed her opening. Diane became instantly wet at his touch.

“Relax, mom. No matter what happens, we have each other. We’ll figure out how to get dad to be like us on our own if we have to.”

“We will. I love you, hon.”

“I love you too, mom.”

They knocked on the oak, double-door. As Jody approached, they both felt something. It was a warm tingle, like a gentle, late-spring breeze caressing one’s skin. Except this tingle was felt in Tom’s cock and Diane’s nipples.

“Do you feel that?” Tom whispered.

“Yes,” Diane said. “I think that means she’s like us. I think we can sense our fellow slaves.”

Before they could say anything more, Jody opened the door. She was wearing a white blouse and slate-gray pencil skirt. Her heels were peep-toe. Jody’s hose were shiny, nude. “Hi, Diane, Tom. Please come in.”

Aside from both women being relatively tall and leggy, Jody and Diane were a study in contrasts: Jody’s Anglo skin to Diane’s Latina heritage; blonde, straight, shoulder-length hair to Diane’s flowing, long, black locks; a lean, almost Crossfit body to Diane’s curves; nude hose to Diane’s black nylon.

“You can sense it, too, can’t you?” Jody asked, closing the door behind them. “That tingle?”

“Yes,” mother and son said in unison, both taking in their hostess’s legs.

“Well, I imagine us moms have a lot to talk about, don’t we, Diane? Tom, Aidan’s in the basement playing Xbox. Why won’t you go downstairs while your mother and I catch up?”

It was subtle, but Tom felt the command. Having a woman his mother’s age command him made his cock hard, the nylons under his pants helping hold it in place so his sudden erection wasn’t too obvious.

“Sure,” he said, heading to the basement door.

Once the women were alone, Jody guided her friend into the kitchen. “Drink?” she asked Diane.

“Something red if you have it.”

Pouring them both glasses, they eyed one another over their wine cups.

“So,” Diane said.

“So.”

“You knew if Tom and I went to Dr. Beine we’d be enslaved?”

“Yes. Are you terribly hurt?” Jody teased.

“No. I know I should be, but I can’t think of being a Silken as anything but being good.”

“Because it is good, dear. It’s the best thing that can happen to a woman. And her son.”

“Why us, though? I want to understand.” Diane asked.

“Dr. Beine wanted me to find candidates for the Silken’s ranks, but he insisted that they be people in need of help. Being Silken is a weird kind of mind control, isn’t it? You’re still you. You just look at sex and nylons different, right? So he’s still a counselor and still wants to help people. When you were complaining about how you and Tom were always fighting, I knew immediately who his next victims, if that’s the right word, should be.”

Diane considered. What was she feeling? It was gratitude. So strange to acknowledge that. Beyond that, closeness to Jody because Diane finally had another woman she could be honest with. “How long have you been this way?”

“Beine enslaved Aidan and I the month before last.” Jody’s voice, like someone looking nostalgically at old home movies.

“And you’ve been fucking each other ever since?”

“Yes. Jealous I’ve been having my son two whole months longer than you’ve been having yours?”

“Yes.”

“It’s special, isn’t it?” Jody asked. “Having sex with your son. Both of you in your special slave hose. The intimacy of it all. A secret world that only you share.”

“It’s wonderful. He and I have never been closer.”

“You love each other?”

“Yes,” Diane said. Jody with her skin’s cool coloring and the sheen of her nude hose was the perfect image of the WASP ice queen. The machine-perfect manicure of her appearance belied her warm heart—Jody had been good enough friend for Diane to complain about her problems with Tom, after all. Yet still, being able to talk now about something so real with someone so regal looking? It was a turn-on, and for the first time Diane began to notice her friend’s body in a way beyond the ubiquitous womanly evaluation of female competitors.

Diane took a step closer to her friend. “And you love your boy?”

“More than anything.”

“You love it when he cums in you?”

Jody’s eyes locked with Diane’s. “I climax every time I feel him beginning to cum in me. And you when Tom lets go in your pussy?”

“Same thing. It…makes me want to serve him more.”

Jody took a step closer to Diane. “That’s the right way to be, though, isn’t it? Natural even, for a mother to want to serve her son.”

“Yes.” Diane realized she was moving closer to Jody, closing the distance as if carried on a gentle river current.

“And maybe it’s also natural for us woman to want to serve others.” Jody’s fingers reached out, casually brushed against Diane’s heavy breast.

“Like friends?”

“Is there any reason why friends shouldn’t help each other feel good?

“No,” Diane said. “Especially when those friends share a secret of how well they serve their sons.”

Jody’s body pressed against Diane’s, both women feeling the warmth of the other’s breasts through their clothes. Their legs touched, the nylon encasing them making a whisper audible in the room’s deafening silence.

Diane’s heart was beating fast. God, she wanted to kiss Jody blush lips. But something was missing. “But if friends are going to serve each other, we should be our true selves shouldn’t we? Be what we really are.”

“Pantyhose slaves?” Jody asked.

“Yes. I want to see you in your slave mask.”

Jody nodded, almost embarrassed she had neglected such a necessity. Disengaging from Diane grudgingly, she pulled a pair of shiny, nude hose from the coffee table drawer. Pulling the stockings over face, she looped the pantyhose’s legs around her neck to make a leash. Jody could feel her body relaxing, becoming more her true self. She breathed in deeply, the air being slightly restricted by the nylons covering face making every breath sweeter. Looking around the room, the mask’s gauziness softened the appearance of everything she looked at, as through viewing the world through a slight mist.

Jody turned back to her friend, and saw that Diane, having pulled some hose from her purse, was now in a black pantyhose mask. “You’re so beautiful,” Jody said, the coy game they’d been playing suddenly unnecessary now that both stood revealed in their slave masks.

They moved to each quickly this time, kissing through their pantyhose masks, their tongues play against the nylon. Jody reached beneath Diane’s dress, felt between her friend’s legs. “You wear hose with the crotch cut out,” she said between kisses. “So naughty.”

Diane’s pussy as positively gushing. She reached under Jody’s skirt. “You do too,” she said, feeling the Anglo woman’s slickness. Unlike Diane, Jody didn’t even other with pretense of panties covering the hole in her pantyhose.

Jody sighed as Diane’s finger penetrated her slit. “I’ve never been with a woman before.”

Diane’s heart swelled. She realized that Jody’s seeming perfection, her manicured, WASP togetherness had always been intimidating. And now this perfect woman, this example of America’s original ruling class, was humping Diane’s hand, pushing her clit against Diane’s palm. She was so proud, reducing this platonic ideal of measured, Anglo beauty to a shivering bitch in heat.

“Can you believe your first time is going to be with a Latina?”

“Oh fuck,” Jody whispered.

“That a Latina is making your white pussy so wet?”

“Goddammit.” Jody reached behind Diane, unzipped her dress. “Yes, I’m a white bitch getting wet from a Latina slut.”

“Yes, I am a slutty Latina,” Diane breathed, melting as her own heritage was fused with sex. “And I love making a snobby white bitch into a slut like me.”

“God, I want your mouth on my pussy.”

“I want that too.” Diane shook off her dress, then slipped off the panties she had over her hose. Now only in her bra and hose, she unzipped Jody’s skirt in a rush. Jody’s body was runner trim, her sheen nude hose glistened on her thighs, catching the light from the wide, mid-century modern windows. Both women now exposed in their pantyhose and slave masks, Diane felt a second’s worry about being her true self in front of the open windows.

Lust triumphed over caution, however, and she guided Jody to the nearby couch. Kneeling before her spread legs, Diane pressed her masked lips onto Jody moistness. Jody threw back her nylon-covered head. “That’s it, honey. Taste this white pussy.”

Diane ran her hands over Jody’s hosed legs. “This beautiful white pussy, that has had so much son cum in it?”

“So much of my baby’s cum, even this morning,” Jody groaned. “You’ll probably be able to taste him in me.”

Diane wanted that so much, She pressed her masked face into Jody’s yearning pussy.

Tom walked down the basement’s carpeted steps, the sound of gunfire and explosions leading his way. He’d been here before, if months ago back when their social circles were still moving together. He knew to expect the overstuffed couches, demoted from the upstairs when Jody had updated the home’s decor. Knew to expect, too, the surround-sound speakers, the 65-inch screen.

He hadn’t expected to find Aidan—big, tough, football-playing Aidan, who rumor had it had fucked half the cheerleading squad—sitting on the couch wearing nothing but suntan hose.

The sight of him shocked Tom. The last tie he’d seen a man in pantyhose, Dr. Beine had been turning him and his mother into slaves themselves. Yet here he was, completely nonplussed that a guy from school had walked in on him playing Battlefield One in his nylons. Instead of the typical gamer detritus of fast food wrappers and empty soda bottles, there were a few pairs of pantyhose or their packaging strewn the room.

“Hey.” Aidan didn’t take his eyes off the screen as he fought his way through a World War I trench.

“Hey,” Tom said.

“So, they got you and your mom too.”

“Yeah.”

“Kind of crazy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed.

“You can make yourself comfortable, if you want.”

“You mean…just be in my hose?”

“Yeah. You’re wearing them under your jeans, aren’t you? I know I always do.”

Tom’s dick, still hard from Jody’s command, grew harder at the bluntness of the invitation. Still, he felt uncertain. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t that be kind of, you know, gay?”

“I’ve fucked both my mother and father while were we all wearing pantyhose,” Aidan said. “I’m pretty far beyond the whole straight-gay thing at this point. You?”

“I’ve only had sex with my mom.”

Aidan’s dick had been sitting flaccid in his hose. At the mention of mother-son sex, it suddenly stirred. He paused game. “You really like it though, right?”

“Yes,” Tom said, before taking a deep breath and sliding his jeans down his nylon-clad legs. His dick was now fully erect and, in his sheer-to-waist, black pantyhose, revealed. “Honestly, it’s the most intense thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Aidan’s big dick continued to grow, like Tom’s forming a large tent pole in his hose. He glanced at Tom’s body, eyes lingering a half-second on his dick before returning to the paused video game. “For me too. The best is fucking her right before school. Right in the kitchen while the coffee is brewing. Makes me happy while I’m wasting time in class knowing she’s got a gallon of my cum in her.”

Tom took off his shirt, and was now, like Aidan, naked except for his pantyhose. He felt lightheaded, confessing what he had done with Diane, having Aidan confess what he did with Jody. Tom sat down on the large couch beside Aidan, four feet of space separating the boys. “That so hot. I’d love to have morning sex with her like that, just out in the open without any shame, not having to hide. Can’t though. Dad isn’t one of us yet.”

“Maybe soon you’ll have him watching. That’s really hot too,” Aidan said.

“I can imagine.”

“You don’t have to imagine. Here, watch.” Aidan used the game controller to bring up the entertainment system’s media library. Navigating through folders, Tom watched as Aidan scrolled down through a series of .mp4 files named by date before settling on one from just the day before.

Suddenly, on the massive 4K screen was a recording of Aidan and his mother. She was in shiny nude hose, as was he. They were also wearing nylons over their faces.

In the video, Jody was smiling through her mask as she spoke to the camera, Aidan immediately behind her. “Ready to watch me make our boy feel good, honey?”

“Yes, baby, I want that,” came the male voice of the man doing the recording: Aidan’s father, Dave.

“Oh my god,” Tom whispered, realizing what he was watching. His hand reached for his hard dick through his hose.

Aidan was proud at the effect it was having on Tom. He took one of the loose pair of stockings from the floor near the couch, pulled it over his face as a slave mask. Seeing Aidan properly masked, in turn, made Tom feel naked. He quickly reached to his jeans on the floor, and pulled from the pocket a spare black pair of nylons he’d stuffed in there earlier. Now he too was masked and returned to the couch, slightly closer to Aidan, to continue watching the show.

The camera’s eye panned away Jody and her son for a few seconds, lingering out onto the early morning woods outside their home. “Another beautiful day,” Dave had commented, taking in the woods through those big, modern windows. The family’s secret, their love and perversion, was completely on display for any Peeping Tom in the forest, and they didn’t care.

Also in the window’s reflection, Tom could see that Aidan’s father was also in his hose and mask. In one hand was his iPhone, his nylon-encased cock with the other. That was the real reason, Tom realized, Dave had taken the camera away from the action between his wife and son. He had wanted to document his own Silken slavehood.

The camera spun back to Jody, bent slightly over the granite-top island as Aidan positioned himself behind her. He was kissing her nude back through his mask, groping Jody’s tits, humping his pantyhose cock against her nylon-covered ass.

She was still smiling, head thrown back, no place in the world she’d rather be than here. “Mommy needs her morning dose of young dick, Aidan,” Jody cooed.

“Give it to her, son,” Dave said from behind the camera, his voice husky and low, barely audible over the sound of himself fapping.

On the video, Aidan obeyed like a good son, pulling down the front of his hose to free his thick dick. He pressed into the breach in his mother’s hose, sliding into her warm, tight pussy.

Tom watched, hypnotized, as he continued to masturbate. In a way, it was just another kind of porn, no different except for its particular fetish genres than what one could bring up with a two-second PornHub search. In another way, it transcended all porn he’d ever seen before. It was real. Real love, real slavery.

Best of all, he knew the actors in this romance. They were acting out something tantalizing close to what Tom had, and desperately wanted: total openness at home with his own family love and slavery.

“Is this how you start off every morning?” Tom asked. “Fucking your mom in the kitchen while you dad records?”

“It’s not always the kitchen,” Aidan said. “And sometimes it’s dad sucking me off while mom records.”

“Fuck.” Tom pumped himself harder in his nylons.

On the screen, Jody continues to smile while Aidan fucks her from behind, his face through his mask crazed, almost pained, with lust. He’s sweating through his mask, and perspiration is dewing on Jody’s bouncing tits.

Then she turns to look into the camera, still smiling, so happy to be getting stuffed by her son, and addresses her audience. “Do like watching a mommy let her big boy have her pussy?”

Tom and Dave’s recorded voice sounded unison: “Yes.”

She went on, her words made slightly staccato by her son’s thrusts. “Isn’t it natural for us all to be in our pantyhose like good slaves while we fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Imagine Aidan playing this naughty video for a friend who’s just joined the Silken,” Jody said, eyes still locked into the camera, Tom’s eyes locked on hers on the screen.

Tom groaned, “Oh god.”

“Just imagine,” the recorded Jody went on, “them masturbating in their hose while watching us fuck in ours.”

“I want them to know our family secret,” Dave’s disembodied voice said from the screen. “Want them to become part of it.”

“They become part of it by cumming in their hose while they watch us,” Jody continued, “just rubbing themselves and letting the nylon make them feel so fucking good, and cumming while my big boy cums in me.”

Tom’s precum was dripping in his black hose, glistening in the light of the screen. Eyes glued to the TV, he barely noticed as Aidan moved closer, his muscled, hose-covered thigh now barely touching Tom’s. “Just listen to her,” Aidan said, “obey her.”

“Yes,” Tom said, his mind opening.

“Imagine,” Jody went on, “our son helping his friend masturbate while watching this video.”

Just then, Tom felt Aidan’s hand on his leg.

“What?” Tom said, surprised.

“Just relax,” Aidan said, his hand sliding up Tom’s nylons to his crotch. “Let me do it. It’s better when someone else does it for you.”

“No, that’s too gay.”

Aidan resisted the urge to laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m beyond that, like I said. As far as you’ve gone with your mom, you basically are too.”

Tom thought back to the night before, Diane playing the recording of his father saying he wanted to be a pantyhose faggot. It was so wrong, which made it all the hotter. Maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. “No,” Tom said again, but there was no strength in his voice.

“Just relax,” Aidan said. “Every time we cum in our hose, we become more enslaved to the Silken. That’s the way we both are now. Just watch the video. Listen to her, and let me make you feel good.”

Tom let go of his cock, his hand surrendering fully to Aidan’s. Aidan on the screen was still slamming himself into Jody, who continued to speak to the viewers: “Our son masturbating his friend while they watch us fucking. Aidan, would you like to masturbate your friends through their pantyhose?”

Aidan grunts on the video, “Yes, mom.”

“Just help those dicks rub one out into their hose?” Jody asks.

“Oh god, yes, mommy!”

Jody went one, “They’d see us fucking, watching this video, know the truth about our family love, want to experience it themselves. They’d be practically family themselves to us, knowing our secret. You’d be pantyhose brothers to one another.”

Pantyhose brothers, pantyhose faggots. The concepts weren’t so different, and feeling Aidan’s hand on his cock through his black nylons, Tom realized he wanted to be both.

Aidan had stopped masturbating himself when he’d turned his attention on Tom. Tom took a deep breath, then move his hand onto Aidan’s pantyhose-encased cock.

“Oh,” Aidan said, as if feeling both surprise and relief at a hand on him.

“Least I could do for my pantyhose brother,” Tom whispered, considering the heft and warmth in his hand.

“Yessss,” Aidan breathed through his pantyhose mask.

Tom kept looking at the screen. “You’re so beautiful in your hose, fucking your mother.”

“Thank you. I bet you’re beautiful when you’re with your mom.”

“I’d love for you to watch us sometime.” Then, feeling so good both at Aidan’s hand, and because he knew he was making Aidan feel good, Tom found himself with a new, perverse desire. “I’d love to watch you and her together too.”

“Oh fuck,” Aidan said.

“If we’re pantyhose brothers, it only makes sense we’d share our pantyhose mothers.”

“Oh god, yes, yes,” Aidan said, stroking Tom even faster. “I want you to fuck my mom.”

On the screen, Aidan cries out how he can’t hold it any longer, and Jody commands him to cum in her pussy.

“We’re both close. Just go ahead and cum, it’ll feel so good,” Aidan said.

“I will, and you do too. Let out every fucking drop,” Tom said, pumping harder and harder Aidan’s shaft. “Shoot your cum into my hand like it’s your mother’s pussy.”

On the screen, Aidan bellows as he begins flooding Jody with seed. The sensation of her son’s cum in her triggers in Jody the orgasm so common to Silken mothers. But it also triggers his father, still filming, his cries of pleasure coming through the speakers as he fills his hose with jizz.

And then both Tom and Aidan cried out too as their cum frothed through their nylons.

Afterwards, there was silence. Not an awkward silence, but just nothing that needed to be said. Both young men wiped the seed from their hands onto the thighs of their hose. Their crotches were soaked with seed, but neither really minded. It all felt so natural.

Aidan navigated back to the game screen. “Want a game?”

“Sure,” Tom said, taking the controller.

The rest of the afternoon may have been spent that way, the boys just playing the first-person shooter. Instead, over the sound of machine gun fire and shouting NPCs, they barely heard the basement door opening. Padding down the stairs in their nylon-encased feet, holding hands Diane and Jody stood before their sons. The mothers’ masks were slick at the mouth, each women’s essence smeared on the other’s face.

In their cum-soaked hose, Aidan’s and Tom’s cocks grew instantly hard again.