Beads of Breaking
Copyright© 2026 by Plosionite
Chapter 3
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 3 - 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
What a waste of time. Learning the name “beads of brisingamen” led to nothing but dead ends, though I did learn a decent amount about Norse mythology. According to the internet, the mythical Brisingamen necklace belonged to Freyja, the Norse goddess of love, beauty, and fertility. Some myths said the “fire necklace” granted luck, others claimed it was a symbol of binding. None of the cobbled-together folklore and old stories helped me with the one thing I needed: How do I control the damn thing.
Sure, this did imply that the bracelet might actually contain mythical power and confirm that ancient deities existed, but I shoved that idea to the back of my mind. Unless I was the next Thor, I didn’t want to waste brain power theorizing how reality would shift if gods were real. I had more important things to figure out, like getting my stepmother to have sex with me.
Creepy Guy’s text message the night before sent me down this rabbit hole. I texted him at least 10 times to get a response but he ignored everything and sent me a new cryptic text this morning that threw me back into things.
I read his second text for the 100th time.
“FEED THE BEADS A SOUL AFLAME AND BREATH IGNITES FROM SPARK TO FURNACE”
After considering the words for a few hours, I theorized that when I was mad, my “soul aflame,” the beads gave my words power. Looking back, it fit. The beads activated the last three times after Christie pissed me off and, I guessed, turned me on. But I knew I didn’t have the whole picture, otherwise the beads would go off every time someone insulted me. Sighing, I stood up to clear my head.
A hot shower always helped. After refreshing in the hot water, I wrapped a towel around my wet body and wiped the steam off the mirror. My peace shattered when the bathroom doorknob turned. My stepmother strutted in without knocking or waiting, holding an empty mug in her hands. Her outfit made my eyebrows jump.
A cropped t-shirt that stopped just below her nipples and some simple panties were the only clothes on her body. The t-shirt had some sort of unicorn on it, likely one of Megan’s old shirts, and the panties featured cartoon horses. Her rounded underboob and muscled abdomen were highlighted by the gap between them. I didn’t want to think about why Christie had an outfit like this or why she thought I’d like it. Or why it worked so damn well.
“Looking for some creamer for my morning coffee,” she said with a wink and a quick lick of her lips.
Even in short bursts, Christie’s charm wound around me and pulled tight. I’d only seen it from afar before but up close I finally understood why men went wild for her.
Tugging the towel and letting the cloth fall at my feet, I exposed my body and erect manhood pointing at Christie, having gotten hard the second I spotted her underboob. A grimace flashed on her face for a moment before her sultry half-smile returned.
“Come on now,” she breathed.
With her eyes digging holes into me, I didn’t say a word and quickly gripped my throbbing erection. Being naked in front of her for the first time, I started masturbating at a brisk pace. A crack in her sexy look gave way to a full cringe crossing her face as my hand moved vigorously.
“Hold on,” she said, running from the room.
Christie quickly returned with one of my t-shirts in hand, thrusting it forward at me.
“Cover that gut then get back to it,” she said without a hint of sexiness.
Arousal flooded out of me and my cock went flaccid. I looked at the shirt for a second before flinging it over my head and pulling it over my stomach. How humiliating.
“Look, maybe we should do this later. I uh, it’s not a great time right now,” I said.
Christie rolled her eyes at me. She raised her cropped shirt, revealing the entirety of her perfect breasts to me. Inside me a war erupted: On one side my sense of pride and shame, on the other, tits. My cock returned to life as one overwhelmed the other.
“Let’s go big boy, get hard for me,” she said with the lust back in her voice.
My hand returned and I focused on the gorgeous chest in front of me. God I wish I could cum on those. Watching my masturbation also affected my stepmother, and Christie’s panties grew wetter while the bathroom filled with the smell of her arousal. The combination of her aroma and tits sent me over the top.
“I’m cumming,” I said.
Christie bit her lip while she positioned the mug at the head of my cock. My orgasm sprayed, some onto the floor, and some on the hand she held the cup with. Her hungry look shifted to pure disgust.
“That’s so nasty,” she said, spitting the last word, “I hate the feeling of cum on my body! Get it off.”
She placed the saucer on the counter then wiped her hand on my t-shirt.
What the fuck. She could swallow my cum but the feeling of it was nasty??
My lingering arousal became an afterthought as a wave of rage overcame me. A faint humming sound crept over me and a familiar heat rose from my wrist. My peripheral vision went white, warmth flared in my chest, my throat filled. Words I didn’t form escaped my mouth.
“That’s exactly what you want, bitch. You want my nasty cum on you. You love the feel of my cum on your skin before you eat it all up, because you’re such a whore. I bet you get so fucking turned on when you lick and suck my cum off of a body part, like adding extra spice to your favorite food.”
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