Dean Michaels sat on the park bench, typing on his laptop, his mind-controlling device sitting beside him. He was about to test it for the first time. He entered the first command. and all those under the age of fourteen began leaving the vicinity.

He had traveled far from his home to test the device. Driven two hours so that there was no chance anyone around here would know him. He’d chosen a park with no surveillance so no one could connect the strange activity to him.

It was public. The perfect place to test things. To make sure this device would work for his family. He had a petite wife who liked to dress up as a schoolgirl and two daughters he desperately wanted to fuck. Especially his youngest.

So the device had to work perfectly. There could be no chance of his family learning of his deviant desires. His wife would leave him if she thought he actually wanted to sleep with their fourteen-year-old daughter June.

A thrill rippled through him even as a black-haired woman sat down beside him. Dressed in tight jogging shorts and a tank top, she was a gorgeous woman. A MILF. Large breasts stretched out her top as she shook her head at a younger, black-haired girl jogging by.

The woman had no idea that her life was about to change as the man she sat down beside typed his commands.

Brenda McDonald – Moments Before Activation

“I can’t keep up with her,” I muttered to the dark-haired man I sat beside. He looked a little out of place in the park, glasses perched on his nose, a serious look on his face as he typed on a laptop. It was curious to see someone doing that on such a bright and sunny day.

“I bet,” the man said, glancing at my daughter as she jogged by.

Melinda was sixteen and with too much energy. She was proving it by out-jogging me. I needed a breather while she was off to shake that young ass of hers and prove that she had more stamina than her mother.

The man typed on this machine. I glanced at the screen and saw him typing strange numbers. 840F21; immune from sound waves and 840F21; arousal protocol. Was it some sort of programming language?

“Getting some work done?” I asked, confused at what he was doing.

“Testing out my invention,” he said and typed out: All; boredom protocol.

He hit enter and...

My mind went blank.

... my mouth tasted salty as I blinked my eyes. I was standing up before my daughter. A moment of confusion rippled through me. Why was I standing up? Wasn’t I sitting down? And hadn’t my daughter just jogged by? But then I felt so good, refreshed even, that the question melted away. My body buzzed and I felt juicy between my thighs. I almost felt like I’d had an orgasm or something, which was just foolish.

“I can’t believe you didn’t keep up with me, Mom,” my daughter said. “I went easy on you.”

“I’m twice your age,” I pointed out as she grabbed my hand and pulled me down the path. “You’re lucky I kept up at all.”

“You can do better,” Melinda said. “Come on, one more lap. You don’t want to get a fat butt.”

I struggled to look behind me as we headed down the path. “My butt’s not getting fat, right?”

Melinda flashed me a naughty grin.

As we jogged around the park, that salty flavor continued to linger in my mouth. It was like I’d taken a mouthful of cum. I rubbed my tongue across the roof of my mouth. It couldn’t be jizz. I hadn’t blown a cock in so long.

Mmm, too long.

Why had that popped into my head?

Melinda jogged before me, the sixteen-year-old seemingly possessed of boundless energy. Her hips shook and her jogging shorts clung to her toned rump. My butt wasn’t getting fat, right? I kept in great shape for my age. I pumped my arms and kept up with her even as I felt the growing exertion.

And the need to drink something. That salty flavor was still lingering.

Thick, creamy, salty jizz ... The idea filled my mouth with such exciting possibilities. I shuddered, my cunt on fire. My panties were drenched. I really did feel like I had had a bunch of orgasms today while I was at the park.

We finished our lap, and I headed over to the drinking fountain. It had the spigot with the splash guard along the top, narrow and half-cylindrical. As I leaned down to drink from the arc of water, the urge to suck on the spigot surged through me. I wanted to latch my mouth on it and suck all that water out of it.

Just blow it.

I shuddered at that. I forced myself to drink the water, sucking down the cool, refreshing stream even as I stared at that cylinder. I could fit it all in my mouth. I could just worship it. My pussy blazed with heat.

Sucking would be so amazing and...

“Going to drink all the water, Mom?” Melinda asked behind me.

I jumped so hard that the water splashed across my face and then the front of my tank top, soaking my breasts. “Just thirsty.”

“I can see that,” she said in some amusement. A teasing smile played on her teenage lips.

I stepped aside and let her drink from it. Did she want to suck it? To just slide her lips over it. As she did, I glanced around the park. I spotted a pair of twin sisters holding hands and then a guy in jogging shorts stretching. Did he have a nice cock that needed sucking on? I bet he did. I could just...

I shook my head. God, how horny was I getting? Had it been that long since I’d gotten laid that I was thinking about blowing random strangers?

My daughter and I headed home. After a quick shower, both of us using different ones at the same time so there was no water pressure and a race before we ran out of heat, I put on a pair of jean shorts and another tank top, my breasts held in a sports bra. That heat between my thighs had dwindled.

I plopped myself on the couch and turned on the TV. There wasn’t much on, but I found a cooking show to have on in the background while I played around on my phone, talking with people on social media.

The door opened and my fifteen-year-old son Corey entered. He was a tall guy, muscular and strapping. He darted past me, all sweaty from playing basketball with his friends. He flashed me a grin as he rushed by.

My eyes shot to his shorts. I caught just a glimmer of the bulge in his basketball shorts. A shiver ran through me. My son was growing into a man. At fifteen, he was taller than me, stronger. He had a cock that was getting big. Did he take after his asshole father? Sean might have been a prick, but he had a big dick.

A suckable dick.

Did my son have a suckable dick?

I blinked at that. Why was I thinking about my son’s cock? What sort of sicko did that? I was his mother! I brought him into this world. I nursed him. Raised him. I was there for him when his shithead father was out drinking and doing god knew what. My tongue flicked over my lips as I imagined Sean’s cock on Corey’s body.

Big. Throbbing. Just begging for a woman—me!—to suck on him. A wave of heat washed through me. I could hear my son moving through the house. He raced up the stairs then he flung himself on the bed. Was he going to masturbate? I knew he did. I’d found the crusty stains. I was a mother. I understood that he was growing up.

He wouldn’t need to jerk it to porn he found on the internet if he had my mouth sucking his—

“Brenda McDonald, you stop thinking perverted things like that,” I hissed at myself, a wave of heat washing through me. “Right this second. That’s disgusting.”

I didn’t know where this sudden oral fixation had come from. I threw myself to my feet, the itch growing in my pussy, a scratch that could only be satiated by doing something perverted. I tried to ignore it, passing back and forth as I thought about creeping upstairs and opening his door.

“No, no, don’t worry, Corey,” I crooned in my mind, “you’re not in trouble for masturbating. In fact, I’m here to help you. Mmm, just let your mother suck your cock. Yes, yes, you’ll cum real fast. No need for porn with my mouth wrapped around your cock.” When had I become a complete sicko? How had this happened? I ran my hands up and down my body, my nipples throbbing. My pussy clenched as the fantasy of sliding my lips down my son’s cock and blowing him consumed my thoughts.

I groaned and then threw myself into cleaning the house. It didn’t need it, but I did it anyway. I polished all the shelves with a manic intensity. I vacuumed the living room, thrusting the vacuum cleaner forward with powerful thrusts. I headed into my kitchen and scrubbed all the countertops clean.

“Don’t you usually do that after dinner?” Melinda asked when she popped in to grab a diet coke out of the refrigerator. She cracked open the can and took a sip.

“The kitchen has to be clean so I can make dinner,” I lied. I could hear Corey moving around upstairs. Was he hard again? Fifteen-year-old boys were always hard, right?

I could take care of that. Just fall to my knees and suck on his dick.

“So, what is for dinner?” Melinda asked.

“I’m making shake and bake chicken with salad,” I told her.

“Cool,” my daughter said. “Then she headed out with her coke, sipping at it.

I wanted her to stay. I bet she could be a good distraction to keep my mind from thoughts of cocks. I wanted to suck one so badly, and there was one right here in the house. A big, strapping cock belonging to my son. I could fall to my knees and nurse on him. Just guzzle down all his jizz.

It would be spectacular.

My kitchen smelling of cleaner, I started dinner. I pulled the chicken out of the refrigerator and pulled the boneless pieces out of the packaging. I trimmed off some gristle and then set about making the breading. The right spices were mixed together in a bag. Then I dropped the pieces in one by one and shook them.

My hair danced as I did. It was satisfying. The oven was preheating to the correct temperature as I coated the chicken one by one. Two pieces for my daughter and me and four for Corey. He was a growing boy. He would demolish it.

The chicken in the oven, I set about making the salad. A mix of romaine lettuce and spinach for the base. Then I grabbed two red, ripe tomatoes, sliced them up, and dropped them in. Next, I diced two orange bell peppers to add a bit of flavor to it. Last, I grabbed the cucumbers.

I held the waxy, green vegetable from the fridge, the skin cool in my grip. My pussy clenched. I stared at it, my tongue flicking over my lips. Then I thrust it at my mouth and opened wide. I slid my lips over the cucumber.

I sucked on it. My eyes squeezed closed as I worked the cucumber in and out of my mouth. I tasted its waxy skin. My tongue swirled around it as I squirmed in delight. I squealed about it, picturing it was Corey’s big dick in my mouth.

“Mom! Mom!” Corey groaned. “Oh, wow, Mom, that’s great. I love it. You’re making my dick feel amazing!”

I sucked harder. My tongue caressed over it. My pussy warmed, that itch intensifying. I pumped the vegetable deep into my mouth and then pulled it back, careful to keep my teeth from the skin. I didn’t want to hurt my son.

“Yes, yes, I’m going to cum, Mom!”

I wanted that salty cum in my mouth. I wanted to gulp down the cream. To swallow down all my son’s incestuous—

I froze, the cucumber thrust deep into my mouth. I trembled there, shock rippling through me. I ripped the vegetable from my lips and panted. Drool ran down my chin. I stared at it, half of it soaked in my saliva.

“What the fuck,” I muttered, frightened.

What was wrong with me? What had happened to me today? Why was I acting like a complete cock-hungry slut? I never even liked blowing guys before. It was always a chore. Something I did it to make them feel better or to keep them from having real sex with me. It had always felt slightly demeaning.

Now...

I wanted cocks in my mouth. Any cock. My son’s cock. His would be the best cock of all.

I whirled around and thrust the cucumber beneath the faucet. I turned on the flow of water and washed my spittle off of it. I trembled, my breasts jiggling. Did I need help? Like did I need to find a therapist or something and figure out what was wrong with me?

There had to be something seriously wrong with me. This was messed up what I was doing. I didn’t even think. I just started sucking on that cucumber. I licked my lips, aching to love it some more. To keep sucking on it.

“Fuck,” I muttered and shoved it down on the cutting board.

I grabbed my knife, and I diced. I sliced. I worked fast, cutting that offending cucumber into thin circles. The TAP-TAP-TAP of my knife striking the wooden surface echoed through my kitchen as I reduced the thick phallus into little, light-green discs.

Temptation destroyed.

I glanced at my refrigerator. I had another cucumber in there. And carrots ... I had thick carrots I could work in and out of my mouth. Just suck on them with such hunger. A shiver ran through me. I squeezed my eyes shut and dumped the cucumber into the salad.

I braved the refrigerator to pull out the bag of shredded mozzarella cheese to add on the salad then mixed it together with a large spoon. I drizzled it in my homemade vinaigrette dressing and set the bowl on the kitchen table.

DING!

The timer for the chicken went off. I pulled the breaded delight out of the oven. The scent filled the air with spices. My mouth watered for something other than cock right then. I started dishing up the food as I called, “Dinner!”

Corey came first. His feet pounded down the stairs, full of his excitement. He appeared in a tank top and shorts. My eyes fell down to his crotch. They were tight enough I could see a bulge. He wasn’t hard, but he did look hung.

A cock in need of a mother’s lips sucking—

Stop being a perverted mother!

“Smells great, Mom,” Corey said and took his usual spot at the table. He sat to my right. “Thanks!”

“Yeah,” I said as I watched him dish up the salad onto the side of his plate. “Melinda, Dinner! Come on!”

“Just a minute!” she cried.

“You can text your friends when you’re done,” I shouted back.

She came down a minute later, her cheeks pink. She darted to the sink and washed her hands then she rushed over to the table and took the seat across from her brother. She, too, dished up her salad, her eyes bursting with hunger.

She talked about our day at the park and how long we were there. I blinked and realized we had been there for an hour longer than I thought. I supposed time must fly when you were jogging or something. I dished up my own salad and concentrated on eating.

Because my son was sitting next to me.

Ideas of slipping beneath the table, saying, “Mommy needs her own special dressing,” popped into my mouth. Of just blowing him right here in front of my daughter shot through me. My heart pounded through my chest. My blood boiled.

How had I become such a pervert? What had happened while jogging at the park to change me? There was nothing I could think of. Just the guy with the laptop doing some work. What was weird about that?

I struggled to remember anything, but it had been a normal day.

I kept glancing at Corey as he ate, watching the muscles in his arms flex as he stabbed his fork into his bowl and brought a mouthful of vegetables to his lips. He chewed them, the crunching echoed. He was so strong. So virile.

He would have so much cum for his mother to drink. I could just guzzle it all down. Just suck so much spunk from his dick. It would be incredible. I bet his balls could give me all the wonderful cream that I could ever want.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Great dinner, Mom,” he said and ducked in to give me a quick kiss on the lips.

“Yep, it was awesome,” Melinda said. She kissed my other cheek. Together, they headed to the kitchen to wash off their dishes.

I watched Corey bend over. God, he had grown into a sexy man. He had a great ass, too. All these taboo thoughts flittered through me. Forbidden impulses. I crossed my legs tight. I squeezed my eyes shut. The itch blazed in me.

I threw myself into cleaning up. Making sure everything was spic and span. But soon that was done, and I had to find new distractions. TV didn’t help. It was Saturday, so not the greatest lineup of programming. I found a Lifetime movie, but the soap opera drama didn’t do much to take my mind off my problems.

I tried reading a book, to get lost in a historical romance set out in the pioneer days. Wholesome passion. Not tawdry desire to suck my son’s cock. The need grew and grew. I had to suck some dick. If not Corey’s, then maybe I should go out and find one.

Go out where?

Maybe I should get one of those dating apps. What was it called? Tinder? Match.com? Something like that. Find a guy and just suck his dick the moment he showed up. It seemed so insane. I needed to talk to someone. Who?

It was getting late. And who did I trust to confess my deviant desires to?

I feared to go to bed. Being alone. That itch between my thighs. What would I do?

My hand would creep down and down my stomach. Slide into my panties. I would rub the very pussy that birthed Corey while imagining how I would suck his cock. Would I be tender at first, planting kisses across the crown of his cock? Would I open my mouth wide and engulf every inch of him I could in a single swallow? Would I suck hard? Hum? Bob my head?

I needed a distraction. I needed...

I darted for the downstairs closet. I ripped it open and found those plastic steps. It was some exercise fad from awhile ago. Back when they still made exercise DVDs. This one had the gimmick of stepping up and down a stair. You could make it the step to get more of a workout. It was good cardio.

I needed to get in the exercise zone. That was where this started. That was how this would end.

I set the ugly, green step in the middle of my living room and popped in the DVD. The perky woman appeared to lead it, her breasts quivering in her sports bra. She had on tight spandex that hugged her legs, her stomach so toned she had just the hint of abs. Her tan skin hand a lustrous gleam to it.

“All right, let’s get started!” she said. “We have a weekly exercise plan worked out for you. But first, the stretches!”

I stretched. I worked out the kinks in my limbs and then began the exercise. Stepping up and down on the steps, pumping my arms, my breasts jiggling in my sports bra. I focused on moving my body, keeping up with her, pushing through the fatigue.

I was still sore from jogging. I didn’t care. The pain would help to swallow my perversions. I stepped up and down. Up and down. Sometimes I would thrust my knees up into the air. Or I would change which foot came down first. I went through day one and was off to day two, getting sweatier and sweatier.

Every inch of my thighs burned. I gasped for breath. This was what I needed. I forced myself to keep at it. I felt that exertion. Oh, yes, it blazed through my muscles. The perfect cure for deviant thoughts. I channeled all that sexual frustration into climbing. Stepping.

“Uh, you okay, Mom?” Melinda asked as she swept by in her nightgown.

“Yep,” I lied and clapped my hands together like the perky blonde did on the TV.

“I was only joking about you having a fat bottom,” she said as she headed into the kitchen. “You don’t want to overdo it.”

“Fine,” I panted. It took too much breath to say more.

Step up. Step down. Up. Down. Feel that burn. Don’t think about cocks. I hurt too much to think about cocks.

Melinda headed by with a bowl of vanilla ice cream and strawberry syrup. She shook her head as she vanished upstairs. I was on day three. My legs were a mass of burning pain. Glorious agony. No thinking about cocks.

By day four, I couldn’t move any longer. I stumbled back, fell on the couch, and lay there in groaning pain. My joints hurt. Every bit of me quivered. The fatigue pulled on me. I closed my eyes and...

Woke up on my couch, blinking. The TV was on the DVD’s menu, a still shot of a perky woman. I blinked, my entire body feeling sticky. I groaned and stumbled towards the nearest bathroom. The downstairs one.

“Fuck,” I groaned. All my joints were a mass of pain. I turned on the shower, stumbled in, and let the water fall on me.

I stayed in there until the hot water ran out. Then I stumbled out, exhausted. I needed to get to bed. I wrapped myself up in a towel and crept out into the house. It was late, well past midnight, and the house was silent. No one would catch me.

I climbed the stairs, groaning every time. They were an evil invention, steps. Just foul. I clutched at the railing, whimpering by the time I reached the second-floor hallway. I stumbled a step, leaned against the wall, and groaned.