Incestuous Mind Control Explodes Chapter 7: Mommy Pops Daughter’s Cherry by mypenname3000
Explore the thrilling dynamics of desire in "Incestuous Mind Control Explodes Chapter 7: Mommy Pops Daughter's Cherry" by mypenname3000. Delve into an erotic tale that intertwines taboo relationships, mind control, and passionate encounters. Don't miss this captivating chapter that pushes boundaries and ignites fantasies!<br/>
A mother mind-controls her son into being her cock-slave and her daughter into being her virgin lover!
Incestuous Mind Control Explodes
A Story of the Institute of Apotheosis Research
Chapter Seven: Mommy Pops Daughter’s Cherry
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2018
Note: Thanks to wrc264 for beta reading this!
Deidre Icke’s buzz from her orgasm instantly vanished as a wave of fear washed over her. Alexis clutched her swollen, pregnant belly. Deidre’s eighteen-year-old daughter rubbed herself, her eyes so wide, a look of shock on her face.
“I… I…”
Alexis was pregnant, but only a few weeks. She shouldn’t be showing. In the last hour she’d gone from having a flat belly to looking five or six months pregnant. It should be impossible, but she had been exposed to the Halo.
They weren’t meant for pregnant women.
“What do we do?” Alexis gasped, staring at her twin brother, the father of her child.
Alex grabbed her, his face pale. His head shot around, looking lost. A moment ago, he was in charge here, using his mind control powers. He cast his gaze around the hallway while Alexis pressed against him, her entire body trembling.
“The infirmary,” Deidre said. The panic was sweeping through her, but she couldn’t let it swallow her. She had to act. To be in-charge here for her children. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Yes,” her ex-husband, and master, said. Robert rushed to his children, taking hold of Alexis’s from the other side. “It’s going to be okay, honey. We’ll get you to Dr. Velikovsky and you’ll be fine. You’ll see. Everything will be all right.”
“Yeah,” Alex said, his voice tight.
“Come on,” Deidre said, backing away. “It’ll be perfect. You’ll see. Dr. Velikovsky knows about the nanites. He can help you.”
Alexis nodded her head, her face tight, her eyes tremulous. Deidre glanced at her daughter’s belly and… it looked larger still. Alexis gasped, her hand rubbing at her belly. She shot Deidre a look of awe and panic.
“I… I think my child just kicked,” she whimpered.
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Sirvard Vahan – Cancer
I loved my abusive husband kneeling before me. His beardless cheeks made him look so pathetic, almost effeminate, instead of the strong, burly, Muslim man who would “discipline” me with his fists. He had to prove he was stronger than me. Better.
When things went wrong in his life, I had to suffer.
For years, I convinced myself that it was my lot in life. That a Muslim woman had to endure this. The only way to get into Heaven was to please my husband. If I didn’t… So I swallowed my dignity and endured. Then the Halo arrived.
I became something more.
He held the harness of the strap-on for her, the fleshy dildo bobbed up and down before him. He whimpered, having to serve her. He was just my dog now. I smiled, loving thinking of the bastard like that. This was how husbands should act. They should serve their wives.
Men were good for nothing more than their cocks. To breed their women and give them daughters. And to be used for the pleasure of their cocks. My son had an amazing dick. He fucked me hard. He was a good son now.
He was my good cock-slave.
“Mmm, Mom, that looks big,” said Anahit, my eighteen-year-old daughter.
“You’re ready for it,” I told her, feeling a little prickle across my thoughts as my powers sank into her. “You’ll stretch, and it’ll feel incredible. Once I’ve broken you in, we’ll find you the perfect cock-slave for you to enjoy.”
“Okay, Mom,” Anahit said, her pale face smiling. Like me, she was a Syrian Armenian, a minority population. When I was pregnant with Edvard, my twenty-year-old son, my husband and I came to the U.S. as refugees.
I stepped into the straps. I shivered as my husband lifted it up my leg. He wanted to deflower our daughter. He was working up the courage to molest her. Now I would enjoy everything he wanted from Anahit.
And Anahit would beg me to do it.
I glanced at my daughter, her pale, flushed body sitting on the dining room table. Her older brother knelt before her, his face smeared with her pussy juices. Edvard had eaten Anahit to several orgasms, pleasing her the way a man should. They never should hurt their women, but only give them pleasure when the woman chooses.
Then spend the rest of the time taking care of them and being their slaves. No longer would women have to serve their men. I would change everything.
My husband brought the strap-on harness up to my waist. I glanced down at him and said, “Dog, did the store clerk teach you how to put this on?”
“He did, Mistress,” he said, his voice strained with humiliation. “I have to make sure the base is over your clit so you can feel it.”
I nodded my head, my naked tits jiggling before me. My dark-brown nipples thrust out hard from my pale tits. They swayed before me as he adjusted the dildo. I groaned as my clit throbbed, loving the feel of the dildo. He tightened the vinyl straps, getting me ready to pop our daughter’s cherry.
“How many times did you fantasize about deflowering our daughter, Dog?” I asked.
“So many times,” he groaned. “I don’t know, Mistress. I would think about it all the time. She’s so young, like you were when we married. Just as beautiful.”
“Are you saying I’m not beautiful?” I hissed.
He flinched. “Of course you are, but… She was fresh. New.”
“Go kneel in the corner, Dog!” I snapped, my fingers pointed. “Watch as I make our daughter into a woman. She’ll enjoy it when I do it. You would have just hurt her. Made her cry. Defiled her. I’ll love her, Dog!”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said and started to rise.
“Crawl!” I snarled, such anger roaring through me. “You’re a dog! A bitch!”
My husband crawled across the floor, his head hung. It was a pathetic shuffle. I shivered, feeling so powerful. He reached the corner in moments, turning around to watch. I smiled, gripping my fake cock. It thrust before me, far bigger than my husband’s dick.
“Anahit, you are going to love this,” I commanded. “A good daughter always loves her mother’s dildo fucking her.” My thoughts prickled.
“I will, Mother,” she said, a smile spreading across her lips. Her small breast quivered. Her dark eyes stared at the dick that would deflower her. She licked her lips, her fingers playing with my dark-brown nipples.
I advanced on her, the dildo bouncing before me. It was hard and flexible. I would fuck it into her and make her into explode. I would give her such pleasure. My daughter smiled at me, her eyes burning, her body flushed.
Her brother watched, too, kneeling there, his hands on his knees, his cock thrusting hard before him. He was a little bigger than his father. My pussy clenched. I loved having my son’s young cock in me. He would have turned into a monster like his father. The dog had been training Edvard, but I rescued him.
Now he was my cock-slave.
“Did your brother give you a great orgasm?” I asked Anahit as I moved up to the table, her thighs open wide. Her shaved snatch gleamed with her juices. Like other Muslim women, we shaved our pussies for hygiene reasons.