The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I glanced over at my daughter. Surely she’d seen it. Surely she’d seen Dion’s hand.

He hadn’t been subtle about it.

We were sitting in the family room, watching a film, when my step-son had moved one hand onto my thigh.

Nope. Ursula continued to watch the television as the CGI heroes smashed the CGI bad guys. It was the climax of the movie—maybe that’s why Dion had felt that he could feel up his own step-mother without attracting attention.

For my part, I’d simply frozen. I knew that I should say something, do something, but…part of me felt that if I did, it would draw focus to what he was doing.

I didn’t want Ursula to see her own mother being felt up like a piece of meat. What kind of example would that be setting?

And so I just sat there in silence for the rest of the film, Dion’s hand resting on my thigh. Occasionally his pointer finger would stroke my skin slightly, sending tingles up my spine.

As soon as the movie was over, I got up, shaking my step-son’s hand off as I did.

“Well!” I said brightly. “That was an adventure, wasn’t it?”

My two kids stared at me like I was an idiot. Truth be told, I couldn’t tell you a single thing that had happened in the last portion of the film—my eyes had been watching the screen, but my mind had been entirely focused on Dion’s hand, on its movements and what it meant.

I’ll have to talk to his father, I told myself, knowing that I wouldn’t. How do you tell your husband that his son decided to feel you up halfway through an action movie?

It happened again the next morning at breakfast. Ever since Ronald and I got married, we’ve made a point of having a big family breakfast—to show the kids that we’re not just two parents who got together, that we’re a family.

My husband was at the stovetop, flipping blueberry pancakes. Ursula was sitting across from us, talking about some school trip she had coming up, and Dion was sitting directly next to me, slowly munching on his breakfast.

As Ursula began going into the detail of some high-school drama, I jumped in my seat. Fortunately my daughter didn’t seem to notice, and just kept on talking.

Dion’s hand was on my thigh again, and I could feel myself going bright read.

“Dion…” I whispered under my breath, but I didn’t want to interrupt Ursula, or bring attention to the fact that anything strange was going on. What kind of a mother would that make me?

And so instead, I just continued to nod and smile as she went into detail about whatever had transpired between her and her ex second-best friend, as Dion’s fingers slowly stroked my leg.

Ursula’s story began to wind down, but I could feel his hand starting to move higher up my thigh, to the heat radiating out from between my legs...

“No…” I hissed, but at that same moment my husband dropped a pan, and the clattering sound drowned me out.

“And THEN she said that she’d tell Mr Stephenson!” Ursula finished triumphantly, and Dion took the opportunity to move one finger up to stroke the gusset of my panties.

“Oh my!” I exclaimed, and Ursula nodded fervently.

“Exactly!”

I stood up so quickly it caused a bottle of syrup to be knocked over, but I left the room so quickly that I don’t even know who cleaned up the mess.

My husband followed me into our bedroom a few minutes later.

“Honey?” he said, his brow creased. “Are you okay?”

I was anything BUT okay, but how could I explain that to Ronald? Dear, sweet Ronald—he’d never suspect anything of his son.

“I’m fine,” I gasped, but my husband wasn’t fooled that easily.

“You ran out of there like a spider bit you,” he said, and I could tell that I wasn’t getting away without an explanation.

Unless...

“Come here,” I whispered, and pulled his tie until his lips were against mine.

As I kneeled in front of my husband and took his hardness into my mouth, I tried to pretend that I wasn’t thinking of Dion’s hand on my thigh.

I did try, but as Ronald spurted into my mouth just a few minutes later, it wasn’t his face, his touch, his manhood I was thinking of…

“What got into you?” Ron asked with a grin, and I shot a shy smile back in response.

Your son, I thought, before banishing the wicked thought from my mind. Dion’s perversion was contagious, it seemed.

“Nothing,” I said. “I guess I was just…in the mood.”

When Dion followed me into the bathroom that night, I knew it had gone too far.

“Dion…” I protested, but he just put one finger up, and I fell silent.

I watched as he closed and locked the bathroom door, and then turned the shower on.

“Dion…” I said in a whisper, but he just stepped forward, reached up my dress, and moved his hand to my thigh.

My breathing got faster and faster as he slowly traced patterns on my bare thigh. Finally, when he finally brushed against the wet spot on the front of my panties, I let out a soft moan.

He grabbed my hand and moved it to the front of his pants, and before I knew what was happening, my hand was tentatively stroking his hardness through his jeans, trying to grab the thick rod I could only feel the shape of.

When I thumbed what I knew to be the head, he let out a gasp, and a warm feeling rushed through my body.

His finger pushed more firmly into the fabric of my underwear, and I could feel him exploring my slit, causing electric sparks to race through me, totally shutting down my brain.

It was like I blacked out, or jumped forward in time—when I caught up with the world again, Dion’s fly was undone and his bare cock was in my hand. Had I done that, or had he?

Did it even matter?

Both my hands were hard at work now, desperately stroking and rubbing at my step-son’s thick cock. He wasn’t quite as long as his father, although he was substantially thicker. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have Dion inside me, stretching me out, filling me up, making me...

“Oh!” I gasped, as Dion pushed my panties aside and two of his fingers entered me. My back arched with pleasure, and I unwillingly clenched around his digits, aware that the action caused a fresh wave of my juices to dribble down his fingers.

In response Dion grinned, and withdrew his skilled fingers. I groaned again—this time in disappointment, and as my mouth opened with displeasure, Dion took the opportunity to slip his fingers inside.

I’d never tasted my own juices before, but I greedily began sucking and slurping at the tangy taste of my own cum, running my tongue around my step-son’s fingers, even as my own hands steadily pumped up and down his hardness.

Dion grunted again, and began to remove his fingers. Like a suckling baby, I didn’t want to let them go—it was as if I was in some kind of trance, and taking away the oral stimulation would snap me out of it.

It wasn’t until Dion’s other hand grabbed the back of my head that I realized I was at waist-height; he’d slowly moved his fingers down, and in my desperation to not stop sucking them, I’d bent almost in two.

Falling to my knees, I realized what Dion wanted. He firmly removed his fingers from my mouth, and to my horror, I found myself sucking on my step-son’s cock.

My pussy was pleading for attention, but my mouth and both hands were busy pleasuring Dion’s hard member. It wasn’t long before he was cumming in my mouth, just as his father had that morning.

Even as he grew soft, I continued to desperately suckle at Dion’s cock, my eyes tightly shut, totally avoiding thinking about what I was doing, about the cum that was even now moving down my throat and into my stomach.

Finally, he pulled me away, and zipped his fly back up. Pulling me to my feet, he straightened my dress, and opened the bathroom door.

Ursula was standing outside, a strange and confused look on her face.

“What were you two doing in there?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

“Nothing!” I said, my head too dazed to come up with a convincing lie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were waiting.”

The next morning, before my husband or daughter were awake, I sneaked into Dion’s bedroom. I had to tell him that this—whatever it was—couldn’t keep on happening, couldn’t continue. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and it certainly wasn’t normal.

He was asleep when I came in, and so I knelt beside his bed. If anyone caught us together at this hour, I don’t know what they would have thought.

“Dion!” I whispered. “Dion!…”

His eyes sleepily opened, and a smile appeared on his face when he saw me. Before I could say anything further, he’d reached out and pulled my mouth to his.

My hands flew up in shock, but for some reason I didn’t resist as his tongue slipped past my lips and began exploring my mouth. He didn’t seem to have even a hint of morning breath, and as he continued kissing me, one of his hands moved to my back and started tracing patterns on skin through my thin nightgown.

As soon as I found myself kissing him back, I realized how it must have looked. I’d slipped into his room in the clothes that I slept in—a pair of panties and a basically transparent night gown.

After the events of yesterday, he must have thought I was coming onto him.

I had every intention of pulling away and revealing the true intent of my visit, but as Dion playfully nipped at my lip, I found myself losing control of the situation.

Dion’s hand moved away from my head, and reached down to cup my breast. I moaned into the kiss as he tweaked my nipple, and I realized I was getting distracted from my mission.

Pulling away from the kiss, I began to tell Dion that we couldn’t do this any more…and that’s when I saw.

Ursula.

She must have been hidden under the cover when I entered, but Dion had shifted enough that I could see her clearly. My daughter was sleeping beside Dion, wearing nothing but an orange pair of panties. She was curled up, facing away from us—it was a miracle that she hadn’t woken up and seen us; her own mother, being groped and fondled by her older brother.

What was she doing here?

Dion grinned at the sight of my eyes widening, and put one finger to his lips.

“No…” I said breathlessly, and he rolled over and began running his fingers up and down my daughter’s bare back, using the same patterns he’d been stroking me with just a few minutes earlier.

“Mmmmm…” she moaned, and I backed away, terrified that she’d roll over and find me there, barely dressed, nipples hard.

Dion’s hands moved down to her pert young ass, and she pushed against him, wriggling slightly as his touch.

It was obvious that she wasn’t completely awake, but she reached behind her and blindly explored with her hand until it found what she was looking for—his rod.

“Put it in me,” she mumbled sleepily. “I want to feel you inside me again.”

Again?

My mouth fell open in shock—I couldn’t believe that such words were coming out of my little girl’s mouth, and I especially couldn’t believe that they were being directed at her brother.

Dion seemed to have completely forgotten I was there—he curled up beside my daughter, and drew her close. As I watched, one arm wrapped around her and (I assumed, based on the moans that started coming from her mouth) began skillfully playing with her nipples.

In one smooth motion, he pulled her panties off and—without looking—threw them in my direction. They softly landed beside me, and he gently thrust forward, filling my daughter with his thick cock, the same one that over the past few days had been in my hand, in my mouth, and had never left my mind.

“No…” I gasped, and my darling daughter’s head began to turn towards me.

Before she could see anything, Dion put his hand over her eyes, and brought her mouth to his. I took advantage of her temporary blindness to flee, running out of the room as quietly as I could.

“Morning, sweetheart,” my Ronald said, sitting up in bed—before he could even question why I was out of breath, I practically tackled him. I forcefully pushed him back onto the bed, lowered his pajama pants, moved my panties to the side, and rode him to orgasm after orgasm.

After he came, I rolled off him, and lay beside him.

He could never know.

No one could ever know.

And I had to do something to save my daughter.