The Futa’s Mind-Controlling Panties Chapter 5: Futa-Cutie Mind-Controls the MILFs by mypenname3000
Explore the steamy continuation of "The Futa's Mind-Controlling Panties" series in Chapter 5, where a futa-cutie uses her mind-control powers on MILFs. Dive into this erotic sex story by mypenname3000 for a thrilling read that will leave you craving more.<br/>
Chloe is having fun wiht her mind-control panties as she dominates two MILFs! , The Futa’s Mind-Controlling Panties
Chapter Five: Futa-Cutie Mind-Controls the MILFs
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2020
Note: Thanks to Alex for beta reading this!
Sasha Ford
If I could curse out loud, I’d be spitting vitriol. Fuck, fuck, fuck! screamed through my thoughts as I stared through the louvered slats of Mildred Dean’s closet. I was trapped in here. Stuck with the panties that I so desperately wanted to don bunched in my hand. I had to pull them on and gain my own futa-cock.
And have my own mind-controlling panties.
You just had to stay downstairs fucking! snarled through my thoughts. I glared at Mildred as she mounted the busty and sexy Mrs. Quick. My new futa-neighbor rammed her girl-cock into Mrs. Quick’s pussy.
“Mmm, your daughter’s mind-controlling someone right now!” Mildred panted as she thrust away at the married woman.
“I know!” Mrs. Quick moaned. “Do you think she’ll bring over Tabitha Brenton?”
That was my mother!
She’d gone back to her maiden name after divorcing my dad and kicking him out of the house. Flashes of her shot through my mind. Red hair. Short and curvy. If anyone was mind-controlling her, it would be me.
An incestuous rush shot through me as I imagined dominating my mother and turning her into my sex slave. And then my bratty, little sister would be mine, too. I’d make her treat me with respect. She’d never call me a “boy-faced dyke again.” Not when she had her mouth full of my big girl-dick.
My pussy clenched. I just had to put them on, but Chloe had screamed her head off, clearly having the greatest orgasm of her life. I’d watched it all through my drone. It was still hovering outside keeping a watch on the now empty living room.
How long would I be stuck in here?
“What if she brought over Alesha Lyon or her daughter, Kendall?” groaned Mrs. Quick. “They’re Black and gorgeous.”
“Ooh, maybe!” gasped Mildred, plowing her girl-dick into her pussy.
These futas were insatiable. I wanted to be one so bad. I closed my eyes, fought the growing itch in my pussy, and hoped to god the fun wouldn’t stay in the bedroom. Or I would lose my mind with my aching lust.
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Chloe Quick
Mrs. Solomon followed me as naked as I was. My new futa-cum dribbled down her face. The busty trophy wife had such a look of delight on her jizz-splattered features. I couldn’t help but smile at her as I slid open the glass door.
“My husband’s watching the game,” she said. “What if he sees us?”
“And?” I asked. “You’re mine now, aren’t you?”
“I am,” the sexy woman groaned. She was always flirting with the men of the neighborhood. Now that I was a futa, I got why they responded.
Mrs. Solomon was gorgeous, her brown hair falling in curves around that mature and beautiful face, her tits fake and big and perky. She had curving hips and a bubbly ass. Every bit of her was tan. She looked so hot.
I loved having mind-controlling panties. Mildred was so awesome to give me one. She was just the best. Ooh, I bet Mrs. Solomon thought the same thing about me. As I entered the kitchen, I spun around to walk backward, holding my wet panties in my hand.
“What do you think about me?”
“You’re just the best, Chloe,” she moaned, staring at me. “Just so cute and sexy. Eighteen… And you have that huge dick. Mmm, it’s just such a yummy dick.”
“I know, right!” I cheered. I couldn’t help but hum as I strolled through the kitchen.
The sound of baseball grew louder. The crowd cheered from the TV. I could see the back of Mr. Solomon’s head. He was older than his wife by, like, two decades or something. He had graying hair, but still fit, I guess. People said fifty was the new thirty or something.
It all sounded old to me.
“Hi, Mr. Solomon,” I brightly said. “Your wife’s my new whore now. Guess you’ll have to find a new bimbo with fake tits to marry.”
“Wait, what?” he spluttered. The recliner creaked as his legs folded it. Then he bolted around, a can of Miller Lite in his hand. White-brown froth spilled over the rim. “Is that sup… What the fuck?”
I grinned at him, my futa-cock throbbing hard.
“Your naked and… Danielle, is that…?”
“Cum? Yes, it is,” Mrs. Solomon cooed. “The cutie fires so much yummy cum from that wonderful cock of hers.” She swiped some off her cheek and popped it into her mouth.
“It’s from my big dick,” I said, grabbing my futa-cock in one hand. “It’s bigger than yours, Mr. Solomon!”
His jaw really dropped. His faced turned red.
Giggling, I threw my panties at him and said, “Catch!”
They hit his chest and fell into his free hand. They were all white with ruffled bands of lace running down the back. They were the perfect set of schoolgirl panties. Just so cute and adorable. They were the perfect thing to make any pervert’s dick hard.
He held them, had to feel how soaked they were with my juices. He balled them up like he was about to throw them, and then froze. He stared at them, inhaling deeply. He brought my panties closer to his nose, almost rubbing them into his face.
Which was gross. He was an old man, and those were my panties.
“You’ve gotten a good enough sniff, give them back,” I hissed.
He blinked and then tossed them to me. I grabbed them and said, “So, Mrs. Solomon’s mine, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess… I guess I got to find another bimbo with big tits to marry.”
“That’s right,” I said. And if she was as hot as the current Mrs. Solomon, well, I might have to keep her.
I felt so wicked as I strutted naked through the living room, Mrs. Solomon strutting behind me. She held my clothes. I could put them on, but skinny jeans were soooooooooooooooooooo uncomfortable to wear with a big futa-dick. And I could mind-control people, so who cared. I could do what I wanted.
“Bye, Eric, I guess we’re not married any longer,” Mrs. Solomon called. “You weren’t a bad husband.”
“But you were a bad wife, weren’t you?” I asked, opening the door.
“Oh, just wicked. I broke up the Fords, didn’t I?” she said, sounding proud.
“And what about my dad?” A nervousness entered my stomach. Mom was Mildred’s, but she might give her back to Dad. They had a great marriage. “Did you and he…?”
“No, no,” she said. “Your mom’s hard to compete with. She went the smart route. I swear, she must have been giving your dad BJ’s and pussy left and right. They were always heading off to fuck whenever I came around to try and seduce him.”
“You’re so bad,” I said as we crossed the lawn.
The evening sun was warm on my tits. The neighborhood was pretty quiet. Someone mowed their lawn somewhere, but it was distant. Sasha Ford’s drone hovered over the street, but she wasn’t sitting on her porch any longer.
I glanced across the street, trying to see in my house’s living room window. Dad had my big sister and Aunt Nadine to keep him company now. Mom had sent him the video of me becoming a futa. It sounded like a big hit over there. I was glad he was getting taken care of. He was a good dad.