The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey... William..”

“Hmm?” I looked up from my notebook. “Oh hey mom!”

My mother entered my room. Or, to be more exact, stumbled into my room. Her brunette tinted hair was in fluffy shambles rather than tied in a bun. The top three buttons of her clean-pressed and highly presentable business uniform were undone. “About what I said this morning... I’m going to have to reschedule this for tomorrow. Is that okay sweety?” Her round ass sat atop my desk. And I gulped on instinct on seeing how a pencil on the table seemed to sink into her soft ass cheeks as she placed herself on the desk beside me.

The table was just below her waist level since she was a pretty tall woman. And also just straight-up pretty. Even in her blatantly tired state, she was genuinely gorgeous. She might not think so herself but ask any man, and they’ll give you the same response. My mother was the kind of woman any warm-blooded male could look at for hours. She wouldn’t even have to do anything people would pay her just to smile in their general direction.

Unfortunately for all guys out there, my mother, Elise, was taken. And not by some lucky male bachelor. No, Elise was a full and proud lesbian who couldn’t find solace with a man. So she had found love with another woman who shared the same mindset as her.

And would you have it, the one she fell in love with happened to be another woman who’s beauty could rival her own.

“I’m sorry honey... I...” Elise shut her eyes and stretched her lips to let out a hearty yawn. One that even caused me to yawn despite how I wasn’t nearly as exhausted as she was. “I know I promised but... I need to rest for work tomorrow.”

I felt her slender, yet strong hands cup my chin and lift my head upwards to face her. Elise had caught my staring at her thick leg that draped over the desk. Half of the pen she sat on completely sank into her meaty ass. An ass that was too curvey for the black business skirt she wore; it was tight enough, or her ass was juicy enough to make the buttocks hidden below easy to makeout without too much imagination.

She took my downcasted gaze as a sign of my disappointment, and she hoped to comfort me with a smile. The way she licked her soft bottom lip before speaking didn’t help move my mind away from her amazing figure. “Tomorrow night, we’ll meet up. I’ll get off early if I have too.”

I sighed.

A part of me was reasonably upset. Not that I was anticipating our “meeting” by any means. No, why would any teen actively seek to study for a test? Fuck that shit.

It was the time that I’d get to spend with my mother that I was yearning for. Elise is a hard-working woman. She works seven to five daily, sometimes more, just to bring the family food and keep the lights on. No one asks her to push herself as hard as she does, but she took the role as the head of the family by her own tuition and strove to make sure everyone was able to live a pleasant life through her laborious work.

That’s a part of her I can always respect.

But then there’s the argument that she appears to take her position as the hard-working parent too far. It came to the point where I barely get to see my own mother! Now, living in a house with two moms, one could say that Elise has taken the position of the “father” in most standard households. But in that case, she’d be the absent father whose kids grow to resent.

And I don’t resent her. I’m always going to love the woman for what she has done for the family. Just... I just want to spend time with her. I want to interact more than the few minutes I get to see of her before she goes to work. What’s the point of taking care of a family when she doesn’t even get to see the fruits of her labor.

Apparently, she has her wife handle the raising of the kids’ job. But now that I’m much older, I realize that I have an amazing set of mothers. Who have managed to raise two children despite what some parts of the world would say. Yet, I only get to know one parent, while the other is a faint enigma that keeps everyone alive in the background.

So yes, it’s been my idea to ask her for help with my upcoming test. I knew that bugging her to do something like... Play videogames, or I dunno... fucking.. Chess! Wouldn’t do. She’d shrugged that off and say that she’s too busy.

But with my homework... That’s one of the few things that would pique her interest enough to consider it. Obviously, Elise wants to see me do the best I can in my education. It’s one of the few things she goes out of her way to discuss with me. She knows that she can’t take care of us forever, and getting good grades would help her children score a well-paying job like the one she has.

Still, it’s been four days since I’ve asked for help. And Elise did show interest in meeting up with me when she had the time. But every day, after work, she exclaims that she’s too tired and apologizes profusely before heading off to bed.

It’s a vicious fucking cycle that I’m begging to get tired off. She loves me, she loves her family, right? That’s why she works... Right?

Right?

Because... Because I’m beginning to think that she works not to keep the lights on, but because she loves her job more than she does me. All I’ve been asking for was one hour, one hour of time to spend with my mom.

And Elise can never seem to spare me that. I know that her time is money, and she ranks in large amounts of cash per hour. But does she not love her son enough to take one of those hours off to help him study?

Shit like that makes it easier for me to perve at her curvey built body that’s always hidden beneath a business suit. And the way she leaned in to give me a kiss on the forehead, put her breasts right in my line of sight. With her eyes away from my own, I could appreciate the nice view down her blouse. Elise has modest B-Cups, I’ve stared at her chest enough to figure that. They weren’t large by any means, but the bra, she had on beneath her top, and the three buttons undone turned a hint of cleavage into a pleasant mass of boob pressed against boob that was a few feet away from my eyes.

“Tomorrow okay sweety? I promise.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Is what I wanted to say. But no, instead, I offered Elise back a fake smile and said. “Okay, mom.”

She took my response well and slid from off the table. The slim woman’s sexy buttocks moved away from my personal bubble, and I felt less warm. The pencil appeared to pop out of her bubbly butt cheek, and I watched her hips sway naturally as she left the room.

Before she left, Elise glanced back at me, and my eyes never flew to her face faster than they did just then. “Goodnight.” She whispered before exiting the room.

Just like that, she left me alone again, showing that she doesn’t care if her son fails in life or not. I guess all that matters is that coin, at least, to her.

Work, work, work. Apparently, that’s all she thinks. I don’t even know much about her job. Whenever I ask, she either says it’s classified information or just moves to change the topic entirely. All that is assuming I can even find the chance to ask her a question. The shit I do know about her job is what I was able to gather from my other mom.

She said Elise works at a company that makes sleep products. Or stuff like that, mental based shit, things that help persuade people to think a certain way. Heh, I always joked with myself that they were using some type of subliminal messaging shit to push my mother into working her life away.

But that’s not possible.

If it were I wish mom would have brought one of their devices home so that I could use that subliminal messaging on her and get a mom that actually cares about her son. Because it looks like right now if Elise had to pick between going to work and leaving me to starve on the ground. She’d go to work in a heartbeat.

That may be over exaggerating, but that’s genuinely how it feels for me at times. There have been a few times when I’ve genuinely needed my mother’s help, and she just told me to “call Mom.” As if she had forgotten that she is “mom”!

Never have I felt so conflicted. I may just be one of the luckiest men around. Not only do I have one hot mother, I have two! And both of them have an active disdain for most if not all perverted men. Here I am, a perverted man, who might be the only exception to perverted people in their minds. I mean, sure, I’ve kept my true feelings for them suppressed, but a few obvious hints have been made, and evidence had been discovered to correlate me to being a dirty perv. Either my mothers haven’t been observant, or they let those occurrences slide because I’m their son.

Twice, I have been caught doing something perverted. Once with my sister’s pantie being in my possession, and the other involved my mom’s dirty laundry being pressed against my face so that I could sniff and breathe her lovely musk.

Both of those times, Elise was the one to outburst. Her wife was a much more quiet type who would blush before reprimanding her kids. But Elise did make it clear that I was to never do that shit again, and I never did. See, Elise can be caring when she wants too. Keynote being, “when she wants too”. She’s the head of the household for a fucking reason when she says not to do something. We don’t do it!

Once I heard my mothers’ bedroom door shut, I was able to breathe out a pent up sigh. I stood and backed away from my desk and let my notebook rest shut. Eventually, I’m going to actually need to study this shit, with or without my smart mother who could definitely help me get a good grade.

If she doesn’t care about me enough to spend an hour, then I can’t push her. So I’ll give her tomorrow to go on her word. But if she pushes it back again, I’ll be forced to do this shit without her.

I pulled out my phone and flopped onto my bed. Turning on the screen and flipping to my gallery, I had pictures of my moms in somewhat revealing states primed and ready. Most of them were from my other mom, Amy is her name. She’s the one who spends her time around the house, so I’ve seen and snapped a lot more pictures of her than I did of Elise.

A lot of Amy’s pictures were taken from over her shoulder while she’s situated at her computer or kitchen table. She’s Korean, and while her wife is sitting with a small B-cup, Amy has a much more sizable bust size that could easily fill up someone’s hands and possibly flow over.

Yes, I have imagined how much of her milky skinned tit-flesh I could hold in my cupped palms, along with other dirty fantasies.

Since Amy is constantly around the house. It’s given that she wears more lax clothing compared to her professionally dressed and a strict wife. So I have enough material of her jiggling mammies and pert buttocks to always push me into an orgasm.

I wish I had more material from Elise, but she’s out half the day, so that’s much harder to come by. Once Elise dashed out of her room in nothing but her underwear to snag a bagel so she could eat while she dressed. That was such an amazing sight to see, her small breasts were jiggling like jello in a cup, and her even more spectacular ass shifted and bounced with each step—the pantie she had on held tight enough to sink between her magnificent cheeks.

Alas, I wasn’t fast enough to pull out my phone and snap a picture.

Sometimes life is full of disappointments.

Sometimes we have two mothers, but it feels like there’s only once since the other one would rather work than love us.

Sometimes...

Well, whatever. I swiped away from the image of Amy’s tits from over her shoulder. And the next one was a picture I took of the same Korean woman bending forward to reach something at the bottom of the fridge. She would usually bend her knees to keep herself appearing modest. But at the time, she thought she was alone, and the action was quick enough. So her ass jutted out into the air, and her bottom was tight enough to show the outline of her pantie clutched between her cheeks.

“Fuck...” I grunted and pulled out my now fully erect penis.