The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The next time my daughter brought her boyfriend around, he didn’t even wait for her to leave the room before starting.

My husband was in the other room, and I could faintly hear the sound of the game on the television. He was unlikely to stop watching, but if he did, we most likely wouldn’t be able to hear him moving around, wouldn’t get any warning if he decided to come in.

Perhaps he didn’t know, or perhaps he didn’t care, but it didn’t seem to worry Ash in the slightest. The second he came into the room where I was sewing, he took my hand and gestured for me to stand up.

As soon as I was standing, he reached out with both hands and grabbed my breasts. My face didn’t move in response, but my knees buckled slightly, and when I glanced over to see how my daughter felt about her boyfriend groping her mother, I noticed that she wasn’t even looking at me.

She had a slight smile on her face, and the entirety of her attention was directed at Ash. It was obvious that in her eyes, he could do no wrong—a part of me was worried for my daughter, about the sway that this boy seemed to have over him, but then I realized…he had the exact same sway over me. I should have been objecting to his actions, especially with my husband in the house and my daughter in the room…but instead, I just stood there, somehow unable to resist as he felt the full weight of my breasts in his hands, and found my nipples, even through the pastel cardigan I was wearing.

When Ash gestured for me to take it off, I wanted to resist. I wanted to tell him that enough was enough, that he couldn’t just come into this household and have his way with anyone that he wanted. Instead, I shrugged the cardigan off, and couldn’t help but feel proud when he gave my now-revealed cleavage an impressed glance.

It had been just four days since Ash had come over last, but since he’d left on Tuesday, I hadn’t been able to get his previous visit out of my head. Anywhere I was, anything I did, I was acutely aware that Ash could just pop up at any moment, and…have his way with me. He never gave any warning before showing up. Even at the grocery store, I had started to fantasize about him meeting me at the checkout, groping me while I paid for the household’s shopping.

Now, it was as though my fantasies had come true. Here he was, and even with my daughter in the room, watching us, I knew I’d do whatever he wanted.

Ash unbuttoned the front of my blouse, and as my bra came into view, I took a deep breath. Knowing that he could appear at any moment, knowing that no matter the day of the week or the place of our meeting, he could strip me…I’d started wearing my laciest bra and panties everywhere I went. I’d even bought a few new sets, so that I would never again be embarrassed by what I was forced to reveal.

The half-smile on Ash’s face seemed to show that he was pleased with my choice, and I was surprised by the wave of relief that washed over me. He pulled my blouse over my head, and when the room came into view once more, I blushed at the sight in front of me.

As she was watching us—him, really—Georgia had reached into her tight-fitting jeans, and was slowly stroking herself, biting her lip. I didn’t know how to feel about that, but before I could think too deeply on it, I was distracted by Ash reaching behind me and undoing my bra.

The bra fell to the floor, and my nipples grew hard at the cold air in the room. If my husband caught us, it would be impossible to explain the situation away. There was no reasonable explanation for why I was standing topless in front of Georgia and her boyfriend while she played with herself.

I knew what I was doing was wrong. Of course I did. I love my husband, and had no desire to cheat on him. But there was just something about my daughter’s teenage beau…I couldn’t resist. The situation was so erotically charged…it was far too easy to put my morals aside, and get caught up in the utter wrongness of what we were doing.

Without a word, Ash stepped forward and lifted one of my nipples to his mouth. I shuddered with pleasure as he began nipping and sucking at it, and chills of arousal grew in my stomach, began to run up and down my back, and quickly moved down in my damp pussy.

As if he could read my mind, Ash’s hand moved to my white pants next, unbuttoning and unzipping them. He began fingering me through the lace panties, pushing them into my slit, making me gasp at the unfamiliar sensation. I don’t know how long we stood there, his mouth on my nipple, his hand down my pants, but all too quickly, he stopped.

Taking my hand, he moved it to my own pussy, and I obediently began playing with myself, replicating his movements, pushing the soaked lace into myself. My eyes lit up as Ash unbuttoned his dark jeans, but before I could drop to my knees, he held out a hand and gestured for me to stay where I was.

Cold though the room was, I was coated in sweat—one of my hands had moved up to my nipple, but even my best efforts couldn’t come close to simulating what Ash’s mouth had been able to do.

To my shock, Georgia fell to her knees as soon as Ash’s cock came into view. She couldn’t…they couldn’t…surely they didn’t expect me to stay in the room while he..while she…

I watched in horror as my daughter’s mouth closed over Ash’s cock, and her head began bobbing up and down. It was clear that this wasn’t her first time—one hand toyed with his balls, while the other slowly pumped the base whenever her lips left room for it.

Obviously the sight in front of me was both horrifying and sickening, but the smell of sex was thick in the room, and it was making it hard to focus. I found myself admiring my daughter’s technique, a bizarre pride coming over me…and as she continued to fellate her boyfriend, I never once stopped masturbating.

There was something so hot about watching my princess’s ruby-red lips bob up and down on Ash’s magnificent cock, and I couldn’t look away. She, in turn, never stopped looking up at Ash’s face, and when I finally brought myself to look at Ash, I was shocked to find that he was staring directly at me.

I have no idea, but that was the hottest thing about the situation. Ash was clearly getting off on watching me watch my daughter blow him. He had a strange, erotic power over both of us, and it was somehow gratifying to know that even though she was servicing him, he would be looking at me when he came.

It didn’t take long. I’d only seen him cum once, but I easily recognized the signs. So did Georgia. When I saw his orgasm was approaching, I stared at his cock. I don’t know why, but I wanted to see my daughter swallow his cum. I wanted to see her do what I’d done, just last week.

Sure enough, she didn’t disappoint. As Ash’s hips bucked, Georgia didn’t miss a beat, drinking his seed even as she milked the last of it out of him. My own orgasm followed shortly, and as I shuddered with pleasure, I could feel the eyes of both Ash and Georgia on me.

This was the second orgasm I’d now had with my daughter in the room, and just like last time, I was immediately mortified. Too embarrassed to speak, I silently put my bra and blouse back on, the young couple watching me all the while, and left to join my husband on the couch.

The next time Ash came around, my daughter wasn’t with him. He didn’t say anything, just came into my study (where I was taking care of the bills) and unzipped his trousers. I didn’t even notice he was there before his cock was out, but neither of us said anything as I leaned forward and began to slowly suck it. The message was clear—my pleasure was irrelevant. My mouth was his, any time he wanted it.

That should have repulsed me, but as soon as he left the room, I started playing with myself, the thought running through my head over and over.

It won’t until I’d cum that the thought struck me: I wondered who was better at giving head—me, or Georgia?

Before Ash entered my life, my husband and I had been in a bit of a dry patch. Nothing too serious, but our lovemaking had gone from once every week or two to once every month or two…

Since everything had started, however, I’d found myself constantly turned on. I was also terrified of being caught—I’m not a good liar. And so, while I would have happily woken my husband every day with a blow-job, and ridden him into the early hours every night, I had restrained myself to Saturday evenings, which has been our scheduled time for as long as I could remember.

That Saturday night, while Georgia was at netball, no sooner had I lowered myself onto my husband when I looked up to see Ash’s face at the window, staring straight at me. I have no idea how he found out that Saturday night was sex night—perhaps he’d turned up for other reasons and just happened to catch us—but it almost gave me a heart-attack.

Fortunately, my husband didn’t notice a thing—I haven’t been able to get Ash out of my head for weeks now, so perhaps my distracted state was nothing new. He just kept on pumping, even as I stared, slack-jawed, out the window, and watched Ash watch my naked form gyrating, repeatedly thrusting my hips forward as I sat on top of my husband.

It only took me a few seconds to start moving again, but I never broke eye contact with Ash as I did. A flush began to spread all over my body—I’ve always liked sex, but I’ve never been watched before. I was suddenly hyper-aware of everything about my naked form—the way my hips moved, the bounce of my chest as my husband thrust into me, the way my legs must look; bare, spread out on either side of me. I was embarrassed to realize that I was still wearing socks.

I didn’t have to imagine Ash as I fucked my husband this week—he was here, standing right in front of me, watching me. Before long, I was cumming, clenching around my husband’s cock, making an effort not to moan the wrong name. I closed my eyes as the full force of an orgasm hit me, and when I opened them again…Ash was gone.

I continued to ride my husband for another few minutes after that, until he finally came, rolling over and going to sleep almost immediately. But after Ash’s face had disappeared from the window, it hadn’t been the same—it had been dry, dull, almost a chore. The thrill had completely disappeared.

Fifteen minutes later I was in the shower, masturbating, reliving the experience—how good it had felt to have Ash’s eyes on me while my husband’s dick filled me up.

As I clenched around my fingers, I realized something: without my daughter’s boyfriend watching, sex with my husband would never be the same again.

It couldn’t be.

What was I to do?