Beads of Breaking
Copyright© 2026 by Plosionite
Chapter 1
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Horribly treated by his stepmother and stepsister, Alex stumbles on a mysterious beaded bracelet. Now when he gets mad, he's forced to say things he normally wouldn't and somehow those words seem to affect the people he's angry at...
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mind Control MaleDom Oral Sex
I opened the door to the house as quietly as I could while still fumbling to get the bracelet off my wrist. I need to get this thing off, I thought. The leather bracelet rested comfortably on me, the three amber beads adorning it looked striking, but the whole situation sat wrong in my gut. I could’ve sworn there was never a street stall set up on the corner of my community college before. The suspicious, gangly man in the crisp suit standing behind a cheap plastic table made my skin crawl the entire interaction. Even though his voice dripped like hot oil down my back and I wasn’t sure why I even walked up to him, I still bought this damn bracelet for some reason. On top of it all, the stupid trick jewelry stayed stuck on my wrist ever since, not coming off no matter what I tried. The whole situation weirded me out enough that I skipped my study group and just drove straight home.
The moment the door closed, all thoughts of the bracelet and the odd man left my mind as my body instinctually tensed up for what came next. My childhood home stopped feeling like an actual home years ago, not with the rampaging bitch always around, and today wouldn’t be any different.
My stepmother hated me and made it well known. Turns out that only being able to access my late father’s trust if she let me stay under this roof until I turned 25 led to a lot of resentment. I was a constant reminder of what she can’t have, despite being the reason she was with my dad in the first place. Since she can’t kick me out, she instead treated me like a mix between a domestic slave and dirt. Not a great combination, in my experience.
“Alex, you better have everything this time,” a shrill voice called from the exercise room.
Christie emerged from the living room doorway. My stepmother’s manicured hands were preemptively planted on her hips, dyed-blonde hair in a messy ponytail framing her tanned face. Sweat glistened on her skin from one of her home workouts, and the sheen traced her collarbone down to her pale-pink camisole.
The top of the camisole ended just below her ribs, exposing her six-pack abdomen and belly button with a hole where a piercing used to be, visible above her impossibly tight spandex shorts. The wet fabric clung to her C-cup breasts with the sharp outline of her nipples clearly visible through the material, as she worked out braless again. The outfit had no place in the gym and sure as hell wasn’t appropriate for working out at home with a young man around, but she didn’t care. I doubted I was even a man in her mind.
Yes, I had eyes. I knew she was hot as hell. She knew I knew though, and she’d rub it in by making snide comments whenever she caught me staring. As much as I hated to admit a positive emotion associated with Christie, who was pretty much the worst person I knew, biology was hard to fight.
Christie’s pale green eyes narrowed when she spotted my empty hands. I knew she was going to yell at me no matter what but now she had ammunition. Taking a more aggressive posture by pushing her chest forward, Christie stomped towards me. I couldn’t stop from glancing at her chest, bouncing with each step. The faint trace of her coconut body lotion mixed with sweat hit my nose, and my body naturally responded to the scantily clad wet woman in front of me. I clenched my jaw to stop myself at half-mast.
“Seriously, Alex? Again?” Her sharp voice dripped with contempt. “I gave you one simple job. One. Job. And you couldn’t even manage that. No bags, no groceries, nothing. Do you have any idea how pathetic you are? Standing there like a lost little boy who can’t follow the easiest instructions.”
She let out a short, deflating sigh. She looked me up and down with disgust. Her eyes flickered to my growing crotch and she sighed deeply. “God, I can’t believe I’m stuck babysitting a lazy slob who can’t even remember to do the shopping. Your father must be rolling in his grave knowing his money is keeping a worthless lump like you breathing under my roof. If it weren’t for that stupid trust, I’d have kicked your sorry ass out years ago.”
“I’m sorry I just–” I started.
Christie took another step closer, giving me another whiff of her lotion and enticing bounce. “I don’t have a date tonight so you’re cooking. Go back out this instant, and don’t you dare come home unless you have every single thing on that list. If you forget even one item again, I swear I’ll make your life hell until Megan gets back. Now move, I’m getting hungry.”
Her verbal onslaught ended with a low blow, “Oh and try not to cream yourself every time I work out,” she finished with another sharp laugh.
My vision went white with an overwhelming sense of rage. Christie pressing my buttons was nothing new. She always knew how to make her words cut deep, going straight for the jugular every time. She had the uncanny ability to pinpoint all of my insecurities and threw them in my face so often I’d never forget them. But something shifted this time, like she struck a nerve she never hit before. I’d never felt anger this intense before in my life. Like a firecracker lit a long time ago finally going off for the first time.
My chest felt hot, and there was a powerful warmth from the bracelet on my wrist as the intense emotions bubbled up inside me. A faint hum filled my ears.
She was hungry? Try not to cream myself? Who the fuck does she think she is. Enough.
An invisible hand covered my throat. Air filled my lungs without me taking a breath. Heavy words I didn’t consciously form tore out of me.
“Of course you’re hungry you bitch. You’re probably hungry for cream aren’t you. I bet that’s why you go on so many dates, because you need their cream. You probably guzzle down so much you’re addicted to the stuff. Do you go through slut withdrawals if you don’t get enough cum to eat?”
My vision snapped back as blood rushed from my head. Dizziness washed over me. What. The. Fuck. Did I just say? Why would I say that? Where did that come from? My mouth was flooded with an odd taste of iron.
My face blanched and I took a few moments to gather courage. What did I just do? I lifted my eyes from the floor to Christie’s face, expecting her to be on the verge of exploding on me. Instead, her face was expressionless. Her eyes had glazed over, staring past me to nothing, blinking quickly while her cheeks took on a deep blush. Her mouth gaped open as she just stood there, breathing slowly. Ten seconds or so passed without any other movement. I tried to swallow but the lump in my throat caught me.
“M-Mom?” I asked.
Calling out seemed to snap her out of whatever that was. The light returned to her eyes and the scowl from before returned to her face.
“Did you hear me?” she said.
Confused, I cocked my head.
“Uh, what?” I replied stupidly.
“Go get the groceries. Now!” she barked back loudly.
I stumbled backwards into the door and scrambled to open it. By the time I put the keys in my car, my mind was spinning.
None of this makes sense, I thought, running the events over my head. I took years of abuse from my stepmother, all the screaming and shouting, all while dressing like, well, the slut I accused her of being. But today for some reason I lost my cool? The whole thing felt like an out-of-body experience, watching someone else say those foreign words from my mouth.
The words. The things I said sounded so ridiculous there’s no way she would’ve ignored it. Did I really say those things or did I have a hallucination or something? My hands played idly with the bracelet on my wrist, now ice cold, while I tried to make heads or tails of what just happened. I didn’t notice at the time that one of the three amber beads had gone black.
I took my time at the grocery store. Terrified of what was waiting for me at home, I tried to take as long as I could there. I decided she was probably just processing my wild outburst and was going to confront me when I got back, so I delayed. But if I take too long here, she’ll just get mad at me for that too. I thought with a mental sigh.
Solemnly loading the groceries into the car, I drove home in silence preparing to receive my punishment. Shit show, ticket for one. When I opened the kitchen door from the garage, my hands full of groceries, I breathed a sigh of relief that Christie wasn’t waiting at the door for an ambush. Instead, the view in front of me could’ve stopped traffic.
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