The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So years of being apart didn’t bring us back together as much as some therapist brat suggesting you could use some support and pleasant surroundings? I can’t say I’m thrilled, but I’m just glad to have you back here. Even if its just for a day or two, I really am overjoyed.” Mom raises up her glass as if to toast, but we’re sitting too far apart to manage the clink.

Either way, the meaning and sentiment are both there, so we may as well be sitting right beside each other. She’s sitting curled up partially in her favorite chair, and I’m half laying out on a lovely couch that feels new. It probably is, I never saw it before so it’s not a family heirloom.

She’s sipping wine, and I’m nursing a mug of hot cocoa complete with small floating marshmallows. It feels appropriate, and makes me feel like a little girl.

White wine in an actual fancy crystal wine glass makes mom look like her name should be something much more fancy than just Susan. Not that Susan isn’t a pretty name, but it sounds simple for such an elegant sight that I’m absolutely sure I could never pull off even if I tried for over a thousand years.

Nervously I take a sip, mentally crossing my fingers that this won’t turn into an ugly argument. “Well, I did miss you . . . but Mystic is really who deserves all of the thanks. I was just going to stay in Midas and try to find some way to get a hold on my life, not that it seemed especially likely for me to manage it. But after . . . after what happened with Sinthiya . . . I just needed to be someplace safe, and where safer than with my mommy . . .?”

I’m not sure if she believes me, but I can’t mention my Amethyst Angel . . . She might have saved my life, but she’ll be another person for my mom to agree with over me, even if she is trying her best to make up for insisting on how I should live my life. “I’m glad you’re here Sarah. I really am . . . I don’t have anything really planned, you caught me off guard, but I called in, took the week off of work . . .”

“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks . . .” Of course, if she hadn’t, I’ll admit that I would be beyond offended.

It’s still boggling my mind that I could be so honest with her, telling her I was raped, that I’d had my mind turned into Swiss cheese to be played with in ever so many ways . . . Of course, she doesn’t know everything, just gists, but that’s more than most people know.

“Silly girl . . . Of course I did. Don’t you fret, I’ll help you feel better in no time at all. Your room isn’t a gym, but I can get you a membership with mine, your room is all ready for you to sleep whenever you need to, and I’ll do anything I can to help you feel safe. I’ll hire out a militia to train guns on your window if it’ll help.” Her smile is so sweet for the words coming out of her mouth, and to me I know they sound normal . . . but I’m sure most people wouldn’t think so.

“Well . . . I don’t know about that . . .” Laughing I sip more at the hot chocolate and sigh at how sweet it tastes. Something about it makes me think about those many times I was made so helpless. Maybe it’s how good it tastes, the creamy added taste of the marshmallows, or maybe it’s that the taste alone makes me feel just a little bit sleepy around the edges.

The thought of my own mother giving me a cup of hot cocoa to lull me into a helplessly suggestible state shouldn’t make me feel flush in quite the way it does. Just imagining the cup falling from my limp hands, one of hers caressing my cheek, grasping my chin and forcing me to stare into her eyes . . .

I can feel my nipples straining against my bra, and my whole body clench. There’d be no way I could get away. No one knows I’m here. No one would suspect my mom of something like this . . .

“Sarah? Sarah? Are you okay . . .?” Susan’s voice shakes me out of my fantasy, and I notice that I’ve been staring into her eyes and ignoring all of the words that she’s been saying. My eyes are hooded, and my whole body feels so flush, so tingly so . . . turned on.

A shameful feeling creeps up over me and I put the cup down, covering up my face with a whimper. I shouldn’t want that! I shouldn’t want her to treat me like The Lady did . . . “I . . . no . . .”

Mom sighs and stands, setting down her glass and moving to sit on the edge of the couch. Normally, her reaching out to pet my hair would make me happy. This time though, when she touches my hair, my neck just faintly, it makes my whole body spasm and tears well up in my eyes. “What’s wrong . . .?”

“No-nothing mom . . . I just . . . Nothing . . .” I know that it’s beyond blatantly obvious that something is wrong, but I can’t tell her what. My eyes feel glassy, and my body is screaming for attention in the worst of ways.

Her eyes are so dark and deep, I just want to stare into them and sip more at this hot chocolate, and pretend that she can take everything away . . .

It would feel so good, to be helpless again, protected, safe . . .

“Sarah . . . I think you should go to bed . . .” My whole body quivers and shakes at the suggestion. All of me wants to run to get in bed so quick, something that I never responded to so well before. I would always complain, want to stay up later, but now that I want her to command me, I want her to see how obedient I am, how much I want her to tell me just what to do and how.

I wonder if being related means we taste similar . . .

That thought brings back the shameful feeling and I shudder into it, whimpering and closing my eyes. One of those days with Mind Bore, a new fetish day, was an incest fetish. One time it was for a mother, my mother . . . and now there she is, and I want her to have me so bad . . .

I thought I was stronger than this . . .

Fighting past the programming I whimper, and very slowly close my eyes. “All right, mom . . . I’ll . . . It’s still the same room, right . . .? I can find my way, I think . . .”

“No, please, let me help you. You need to see that people want to help you, right? That people are here for you?” She stands up, and moves closer, and all I can imagine is sliding down to my knees, legs spread, back arched to show her just how hard my nipples are, just how wet my pussy is . . . the pussy that could be hers if she even insinuated she wanted it . . .

She reaches down to help me up, and when her hand touches my arm I squeak and let out a long slow moan. My arousal skyrockets and my whole body quivers into her touch as my eyes melt shut. I need her to touch me, I need her to take me . . .

Her hand pulls away, and I quiver, eyes fluttering half open as I try to make my mouth work enough to explain. Nothing will come out. It feels like someone filled up my throat with glue and my body with need. Every small part of me aches to pull her down against me, feel her body against mine . . . but the fantasy, the fetish, it needs her to initiate it. She touched me, that means she wants me, it means . . .

Tears start to well in my eyes even if the arousal won’t break. I need her, I need her to need me, but I can’t force her! I don’t even want it, Mind Bore just wanted me to want it and so it became me needing it . . .

There’s no way I could possibly explain this, not to her, not to anyone . . .

“Sarah . . . What’s wrong with you . . .? You’re scaring me, I don’t know what I should do . . .” I can feel her staring at me, truly clueless, even if I can’t open up my eyes to look at her. I know if I do, it’ll be with eyes of need. Need that won’t silence until she pulls me against her, makes me suckle at her nipple like a helpless little girl, like her helpless little daughter . . .

My body replies for me, even though I most definitely do not want it to, even if it makes me quiver. “You should use me, like the little toy I am . . . knead me, fuck me . . . please . . . Want to be your toy!”

I feel so helpless, trapped in my own body and yet my body feels trapped by my own mental desire. My hips arch out, showing off that growing damp spot on my jeans, and I can hear my mother gasp. “Sarah, this isn’t like you, this isn’t like you at all! You can’t have changed this much . . . how do I help?!”

Good, at least she knows, at least she knows that I’ve been controlled. She must assume this is something left over, she doesn’t know that I’ve always needed to be forced to kneel and lap at her cunt while she told me this was why I was born, to be her hot little cunt slave, her little fuck toy . . .

For a moment the fantasy me and the real me blend, and I can’t tell the difference. The difference doesn’t matter . . . “You can help, by helping me take off my clothes for you . . . Don’t you want me . . .?”

My eyes slowly peel open, and I can feel the need they must be screaming. My hands reach down, and start to undo the button and then the zipper of my jeans. The bright silvery thong screams out from under the dark black jeans, and my mother’s eyes flicker down to it for only a moment before she pulls her eyes away with a gasp.

“No, I don’t want you Sarah! And you don’t want me either, this isn’t you! This is what one of those women did to you, and I’m so sorry, I . . . There’s nothing I can do . . . if Lida was here, maybe she could do something, but I . . . I can’t do any of that, I can’t . . .”

My whole body presses into her gaze as I wiggle out of my pants with a whimper, trying to gain her attention again as she looks away. “But this is why you had me, mommy. . . . You and daddy, so that you, just you, could have a nice hot little girl to fuck when she got old enough . . .! I’m plenty old enough by now, and I want to obey, I want to be obedient, I . . .”

Susan gasps, as beside her, something that can only be described as a silvery shadow begins to claw itself open. It looks like a hole of pure silver light just opening up all on it’s own, shining. It’s so pretty, I have to watch it as it opens . . .

A woman steps through, with long black hair, smooth Italian-olive skin, with dark shades on over her eyes. She’s dressed in odd, but pretty dark blue and silver robes, looking so commanding, so powerful . . . and yet so worried, scared. Something about her looks so familiar and makes me feel warm and safe in a way I can’t even try to describe. Just looking at her makes so much of my desire calm and slowly start to melt and drip away . . .

“Lida . . .! You shouldn’t be here, you said—!” Mom pipes up, but the figure, Lida, just sighs, looking sad. Her sad just makes her look more attractive though, and my arousal is still sizzling . . .

“My little Lucia needs me, Susan . . . I promised the both of you that if she ever needed me and there was anything I could do about it I would . . . I love you Susan, you know that. That’s why I need to help.” Lida steps closer to me as the light goes away, and it’s so hard not to offer myself to her, too.

Lucia . . .? My middle name is Lucia, but no one’s ever called me that . . .

Lida kneels down in front of me, and reaches out to ever so lightly caress my cheek. My whole body presses into her hand without my mind even comprehending the touch. Her face looks so familiar, if I could just get those glasses off . . . “You have such soft skin . . .” My voice sounds foreign even to me, so strange, so far away, and not nearly important as Lida’s, as this wonderful woman’s . . . anything.

“Shhh now little Lucia . . . There will be time for more later . . . but for now . . .” Her fingertips slowly trace down from my cheek, down my neck, and along the outside curve of my breast. My nipple screams as her thumb just barely caresses, making all of the nerves sizzle and scream. It almost feels like her thumb is electric, truly electric, sizzling, sparking against my skin even through my top and my bra!

My whole body melts into her touch as mommy makes a very upset sound. “Lida, you shouldn’t touch her like that, not now, not when she’s so helpless . . .”

I just arch harder into her touch, as I feel more of that sizzling electricity making my eyes feel so heavy as my thighs start to quiver helplessly out of control, pulsing, clenching, shuddering . . .

“This is the only way . . . do you want her to force herself on you . . .? Because if I don’t do this, she will. You’ll wake up with our little Lucia squatting over you, and you won’t even know what you’re doing until she’s drowning you in her lust, and by then . . . so please, don’t interfere . . . Please.” Lida’s voice sound so serious, but so sweet, so sensual, so perfect . . .

My mother mutters out something, just faintly. Lida’s hand slowly slides down from my breast, along the curve of my body, as the other grasps onto the frame of her glasses. Maybe she’ll lower them, maybe . . .

Right as her hand reaches the inside curve of my thigh, her glasses slide down and off. Silver eyes, such deep, hot, perfect silver eyes that make my body quiver right through to the core. My pussy clenches tighter than it ever has before as my clit throbs, screaming with each pulse, as my whole body grinds into her hand, and my voice screams out again without me even realizing it . . .

“Mommy!”