Brain Development Enterprises
Copyright© 2020 by JC Beleren
Chapter 1
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A man purchases a series of self-hypnosis recordings to help him become more assertive. (This novel has been read more than 70,000 times on other sites, and joined the Mind Control Hall of Fame upon it's conclusion in Oct. 2019.)
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft ft/ft Mult Consensual Hypnosis Mind Control Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Father Daughter MaleDom Group Sex Harem Hispanic Female Oral Sex Tit-Fucking Big Breasts
“Please Daddy! Fuck my tight little pussy like the alpha male stud you are! Make me cum with your thick, manly cock!”
McKenzie’s tight, 18-year-old body was riding me hard, her tits bouncing while my hands gripped her round, bubble butt. My fingers kneaded her muscular ass, disbelief still flowing through my veins.
“I can’t believe I’ve never realized it before,” she gasped. “You’re the perfect Daddy and provider. And now your little girl can make you feel so good!” Her pussy gripped my cock in a vice grip, milking me with every movement of her slim, flexible body. She was so hot and wet and tight, like she had never been so turned on before in her life. Her voice had a sexy, ditzy quality, like she was drunk.
Only I knew that she wasn’t. Something else, something far more incredible, was going on.
“Oh, yes, Daddy! Cum in your stepdaughter’s tight little pussy.” She egged me on, her bright, hazel eyes glazed with lust and excitement. “Show me how a real man takes a woman.”
My cock twitched in her cunt and she moaned. I groaned, my balls tightening. I was about to fill this sweet little teen’s womb up with my load. And somehow, despite the situation, I didn’t feel an ounce of disgust or guilt. Only power. So, I thought. This is what victory feels like.
God dammit. I was so sick of disappointing myself. I pulled the car into the garage and turned it off as the garage door came down behind me. I hit the steering wheel a couple times with weak, futile blows of my palm.
“Fuck...” I muttered. The worst part of all was that nothing had really happened today to make me upset. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least. It was just ... my life.
I was thirty-five, and I’d always thought that by now I’d be riding high. Instead, everything was just ... slightly worse than I had hoped it would be. I was just a little overweight, on my second wife and had a job as a software engineer that paid for a nice lifestyle but didn’t make me feel like anything more than a worker drone. I hadn’t taken a vacation in three years because on the last one my ex-wife had ended up banging the surf instructor and then filing for divorce.
I tossed the Tesla keys into the bowl by front door, slid my feet out of my leather dress shoes and then grabbed McKenzie’s workout sneakers and put them onto the shoe rack. My second wife, Barbara, had come with a bit of baggage herself. In her case, it was McKenzie, her recently 18-year-old daughter.
Patience is a virtue, I reminded myself. I thought, for the umpteenth time, that whoever had invented that cliché that had never lived with a teenage girl. Somehow McKenzie, cute little McKenzie, was not only a total slob but also treated me with utter disrespect.
On the kitchen table, a brown cardboard package was placed at my seat. I crossed the room, picking it up and turning it around in my hands. The package had a label in bold, black and white font, that read, “BDE: Reprogram Yourself for Victory.”
Oh shit. I instinctively glanced over my shoulder nervously. It actually came... I remembered this purchase distinctly, mostly because it had never arrived.
Three weeks earlier...
It had been a long day at the office when I’d ordered this particular package. That sexy bitch Alison had been strutting her stuff all day, wearing a little red dress that showed off the boobs and ass that had gotten her the promotion she hadn’t deserved. I had driven home all hot and bothered, and after making sure neither of the girls was home I had laid out on the mattress, kicked off my slacks and pulled up an incognito browser on my laptop.
My cock was in my hand, throbbing and hot against the skin of my palm. As I surfed my usual porn sites, one particular video kept showing up. It was the viral porn sensation of the day, a video of a cute little teen going wild for her “Daddy”’s man meat. Almost without thinking, I clicked.
Ten minutes later, my face was flushed and my hand was a blur as it pumped up and down my hot, needy rod. Precum dripped from the head of my prick and made my fingers slippery on my shaft.
“Please, Daddy?” the young woman moaned. She was on her knees, hands desperately stroking a man’s cock while staring up into the camera. It was a POV video, so it felt like she was staring into my eyes, into the depths of my debauched soul. “Please let me suck your big, hard cock...”
How am I watching this? I thought, groaning deep in my throat. McKenzie is practically the same age as this girl. What kind of father am I? “Yeah, honey...” I grunted instead, the most primal part of my brain asserting dominance over the moralistic wimp that was trying to take back control. “Suck Daddy’s cock like a good little slut.”
As if she could hear me, the girl in the video leaned forward, planting a loving kiss on the thick shaft of the cock straining before her. My balls tightened. “Thank you, Daddy...” she murmured, then parted her bright red lips and slid her mouth over the head. Her mouth descended to cover the cock on screen, a moan of utter pleasure reverberating through the speakers.
My length jerked and I came like a fire hose, desperately snatching up my hand towel from the bed beside me and trying to catch spurt after spurt of cum that shot from my twitching manhood. “Fuck...” I groaned, my body flexing incredibly tight and then relaxing back onto the soft mattress.
My finger tapped the space bar, pausing the video as I closed my eyes and laid back. My body was limp, wrung out and incredibly relaxed. In fact, I was so blissed out that I slipped into a light nap, completely disregarding the fact that I was laying naked on my bed with a towel full of hot, sticky seed crumpled beside me and a porn video still frozen on my laptop.
It was not a sight Barbara would have wanted to walk in on. My brain flickered, thinking I should probably clean up before ... But I was asleep.
“Hey, you.”
I jerked awake, looking around wildly. “Wha—?” I muttered blearily. There was no one else in the room.
“Yes, I’m talking to you!”
I sat up, scanning the space around me. The voice, I realized, was coming from the laptop. I squinted at the machine suspiciously. Covering the still-frozen image of the gorgeous brunette sucking her father’s cock like a pro was a pop-up ad, a video of a well-groomed man with silver hair and a navy suit who was staring through the screen at me with disconcerting focus.
“I know you,” he declared. “I used to be you.”
This is weird... I thought, but for some reason I didn’t reach out and hit the Close Window button. It was like the man’s eyes and voice were hypnotizing me, drawing me in and pinning me to the comforter at the same time.
“You wish you had more control in your life. You wish you could get out of the rut you’re in and achieve your true potential. There is so much more than what you’re experiencing...” He trailed off, raising his eyebrows like he knew he was striking all the right chords. “Wouldn’t it be nice if you could change all of that?”
I felt myself nodding along. Yeah... Then I snapped myself out of it. “This is stupid,” I snapped out loud, reaching out to close the laptop. They’re just going to try and sell me some dick enlargement pill or Viagra substitute.
“Before you close this ad,” the man cautioned, “know that this is not some silly pitch for a knockoff erectile disfunction capsule. Our product, a series of self-hypnosis recordings, is about transforming you into the man you deserve to be... Permanently.“
Why am I still watching this? I asked myself, but I knew why. This man was pushing all the right buttons. I wanted to know more.
“Got your attention?” Mr. Silver Fox asked. “I should have it. Our cutting-edge techniques are what allowed me to transform from this —” An image flashed on the screen. It was obviously the same man, but grossly different. He was at least 40 pounds heavier, with a scraggly beard and slumped, defeated posture. “— to this...” The camera, which had been zoomed in on his face and chest, pulled out and slowly panned down.
I blinked, hardly comprehending what I saw.
The man was only dressed in his tailored navy suit from the waist up. Below that, he was completely naked, his muscular legs planted confidently and his sizable prick standing proudly erect.
Gazing up at him adoringly with her mouth wrapped around his thick rod was the girl from the porn video.
“Keep going, darling,” he murmured, resting his hand on her head.
“Mmm...” she moaned happily and began to bob her mouth up and down on his cock, taking him deep with every movement. My brain was still registering the shock of the situation when the man began to speak again.
“Follow the link below,” he said, looking up at the camera and into my face. “Become the man who turns women into the slutty little girls they were always meant to be. You’ll thank me for it.” He grinned broadly, a model-worthy smile. “And, better yet, they’ll thank you.” He winked, like we were sharing a secret, and then glanced down to the woman at his feet.
“You love it, don’t you?” he asked.
The woman slowly pulled back, his cock emerging inch by inch from between her pouty red lips. It was wet and hard, throbbing with masculine need. She smiled up at him like the happiest woman alive. “Yes, Daddy.”
The man turned back to me and raised his eyebrows, like he was asking what I was waiting for, but I was already searching through the pockets of my slacks for my credit card.
Today...
I cut open the box on my bed, taking care to lock the bedroom door behind me. I felt strangely nervous, like if Barbara walked in and saw me with a product like this she would be upset. Inside the cardboard, on top of a load of packing peanuts, rested a piece of paper.
We apologize for the delay, the note began. We have recently taken far more orders than expected, and we have fulfilled them in the order in which they were received. To compensate you for the extra time, please find included an additional product: our BDE patented cologne. Become the man you were always meant to be. A man with style, flair and, above all, confidence.
I swallowed, then tossed the paper to the bed and rooted through the box. Inside were a pair of headphones, an iPod and a small bottle of cologne.
I examined the cologne first, taking off the top and spritzing a puff of it out into the air. Oh...
It smelled good, how I imagined it would smell in a boutique men’s fashion store in some exotic city like Rome or Paris — the scent of masculinity, power and influence. I rolled my shoulders and stood up straighter, realizing that I had been slouched over like a goddamn gorilla. That’s not how a Man stands, I thought. A Man stands tall, erect, powerful...
I shook my head. Wait ... what? Where did that come from? Shaking my head, I started to put the bottle carefully on the comforter, resolving to save it for a special occasion.
I stopped myself. “You should put it on,” I ordered. Was my voice a little deeper than usual? It resonated in my ears. “So what if you aren’t going out tonight? That’s no reason not to smell great. You deserve a little self-indulgence.” Besides, I reasoned, even as my hands moved of their own volition to spritz cologne on the inside of each wrist. If I put it on now I can ask Barbara’s opinion when she gets home. I raised one wrist to my nose and inhaled deeply. Yes... It was right.
I placed the cologne on my bedside table and picked up the iPod. It was an older model of the wheel-and-click variety, and when I pushed the Power switch its small screen showed a list of tracks simply numbered: BDE 1, BDE 2, BDE 3... and so on. I plugged in the earbuds and slipped them snugly into my ears. Sitting back against the headboard, I swung my feet up onto the mattress, selected BDE 1 and pressed Play.
“Hello...” The voice was deep, silky smooth, and familiar. It was definitely the man from the advertisement that had sold me the BDE recordings in the first place. “I’m glad to see that you’ve taken the first step towards becoming the man you were always meant to be...”
I closed my eyes, his velvety voice washing over me.
“I hope you’re someplace relaxed, peaceful and alone, because we are going to be commencing immediately...”
My eyes flickered open and I checked my watch. I’ve got time... I thought. Barbara had texted to let me know she’d be working late, again, and McKenzie wouldn’t come talk to me unless she had a true emergency — which only really happened when she needed money for shopping.
So, with nothing on my mind but the strangely hypnotic voice of Mr. Silver Fox, I closed my eyes once again and began to listen.
“Your breathing is becoming deeper and deeper, each breath clearing your mind of stress, worries and insignificant thoughts...” I relaxed a little deeper into the mattress, finding a more comfortable position. The man’s tone was calm but firm, and I found myself almost nodding along as it filled the dark void of my mind. “Stress is for lesser men. Worries are for lesser men. Insignificant thoughts are for lesser men. As you breathe deeply, you are finding that all those things are drifting away and becoming less and less important. All that matters is breathing deeply, relaxing, and listening...”
My breathing was becoming deeper, I noticed. I felt my chest swell with each in breath, confirming what he said.
“ ... and even if you tried, opening your eyes would take more effort than you’re willing to invest.”
I realized that I’d lost focus at some point, and I tuned back in as the voice pointed out my current situation.
“And it’s okay, because you don’t need to invest any effort right now. You just need to listen, to learn and to grow...”
Right again... I thought. Opening my eyes would take more effort than I want to make. I’m listening to this. Just listening and relaxing. And I’m more relaxed with my eyes closed...
The darkness was all around me, and for a moment I felt like I was floating in a void. There was no bedroom around me, no mattress beneath me, no headboard behind my back. There was only the darkness and the warmth of the voice that wrapped around me like a toasty quilt on a winter’s evening.
“The sounds around you are fading, until all you can hear is my voice ... The sensations around you are fading, until all you can feel is the sense of self within you. The true Man who has been slumbering inside of your body for so long, waiting to be released. The alpha you’ve been holding back from unleashing...”
I blinked and shook my head, my eyelids fluttering open. I suddenly realized that there was no sound in my ears, and that there may not have been any sound for some time. I coughed self-consciously and rubbed my face with my hands.
“What the hell... ?” I groaned, checking my watch. I felt strange, energized, like I’d just taken a power nap and downed two shots of espresso. Oh crap... I must have fallen asleep while listening to the recording, because it was 45 minutes later and I didn’t remember anything beyond the first few minutes.
I swung my feet off the bed and stood up, tugging the earbuds from my ears and tossing them to the bed. Bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet I stared down at the tiny silver device. Unexpectedly, a wave of unease swept over me.
That’s dangerous, I thought. What if Barbara had come in while you were listening to that? I wasn’t sure why the thought struck me as so dangerous, all I was doing was sitting there and ostensibly napping, but the thought of my wife walking in on me listening to my BDE recordings was a worrisome one. “You’d better put these away,” I told myself, scooping up the earbuds and wrapping them around the slim device. “She could be home any minute.”
I grabbed the cologne in my other hand and walked to my dresser. The sock drawer, most classic of all marital hidey-holes, was my first instinct, so I stuffed the cologne in among my folded-up ties and boxers and I tucked the iPod into a pair of my favorite socks.
There, I thought, feeling somewhat more secure about my situation. I took a deep breath. “Well...” I said aloud. “That was ... interesting...”
I felt like I should feel different, like my eyesight should have changed or a veil should have been lifted from my vision. As it was, though, I felt about the same except for that strange energy. It was as if the 45-minutes of recording had filled me up to full battery.
Downstairs, through the floor, I heard the clattering of dishes in the kitchen and the muffled sounds of cursing. McKenzie? I wondered. Barbara probably wasn’t home yet. I momentarily wrestled with the idea of ignoring her, but I sighed and headed for the door. Maybe I was just whipped, the beta male to my wife and her teenage daughter, but I also wanted to be as good a father figure to McKenzie as I could. Maybe I hadn’t been her real Dad, but there was no reason I couldn’t be a strong, influential male role model in her life.
At least, that was what I told myself. As I entered the kitchen, I could see that McKenzie was still in post-workout mode. The counters had been covered with the ingredients for some sort of health shake -- a container of peanut butter, some plastic bags of veggies and a bucket of what looked like protein powder. McKenzie was in the middle of it, the eye of the storm, her slim teen body clad only in a pair of skintight red workout capris and a matching sports bra. She had managed to turn shake-making into an activity worthy of two dumpsters and a fulltime garbage man.
“Hey,” I said, my eyes roaming down her smooth, tanned back and then flickering upward again before they could rest too long on her round, bouncy teenaged ass. Screw your head on straight, man. “Thought I heard you having a bit of a problem down here?”
McKenzie spun, brunette hair whipping around over her shoulders. Her hazel eyes sought mine out and squinted at me distrustfully. “I have it under control, dude,” she said, wrinkling her nose at me in what seemed almost like a gesture of distaste.
I hated that she called me dude. It was like she was trying to pretend I was one of her buddies, or maybe someone at school who was far below her in social status but with whom she was forced to interact with for a project.
I shrugged, trying to let it slide off me like water from a duck’s back. “Good to hear,” I replied lightly. I glanced around the kitchen. “Just make sure you clean up after yourself when you’re done.” I’m not sure why I added the command. It was unlike me. Usually I would hope that McKenzie knew well enough to clean up after herself, I would be disappointed, and then I would end up doing it for her. While I was the senior software engineer on my team, I didn’t have the confidence to order anyone around in the comfort of my own home. Here, the women ruled supreme — two queens and their moneymaking jester.
McKenzie rolled her eyes and snorted softly. “Sure, sure, dude. I’ll totally take care of it. Don’t you have anything better to occupy your time than tell me what to do?”
I felt a surge of frustration rise up in me at the derisive comment. Somewhere in the back of my mind, just beyond my conscious thought, a voice was murmuring...
You are an Alpha Male. You exist to lead. Your mind is sharp, and your decisions are final. You deserve respect.
But I wasn’t really listening to it. It wasn’t important. What was important was that the young woman before me was disrespecting her father. At the same time, my palm tingled, and I suddenly realized that in the theatre of my mind I was imagining bending the haughty little teen over my knee and spanking her until she changed her tune.
Strangely, along with irritation, I also felt another emotion arise. In the pit of my stomach, a knot flexed and relaxed. My mouth watered, like I had just taken a bite of a nice, juicy steak, and I found that I was breathing in the scent of McKenzie’s sweat and the sweet perfume she wore, which hung in the kitchen like a soft, invisible cloud.
She smells like dessert, I thought, and then stared at the thought in alarm. Where did that come from? I felt the same sense of shame that had come several weeks before while watching the BDE viral video — I was McKenzie’s father for crying out loud. These were not the sort of thoughts that were appropriate. I didn’t even want to be thinking them ... did I?
McKenzie was watching me, I realized, some part of me recognizing that she was gauging my response. Calculating. Seeing what she could get away with.
Usually, I would have told myself it was fine. It’s just a teenage thing, I would have justified, reasoning that I needed to be the bigger person and take the high road. Just let it slide. But in this moment, I was halfway across the kitchen before I could stop myself.
McKenzie’s light eyes widened as I strode toward her, and I retroactively realized that I had a grim, determined expression on my face. It was a look that I usually saved for subordinates who had majorly fucked up their code or for when I was tackling a programming project that needed to be handled by a true coding warrior.
I stopped in front of her, barely a foot away, well within her comfort zone. She shifted uneasily but was boxed into a corner between the sink and the refrigerator. She couldn’t move away. I tightened my jaw, ignoring her scent as it wafted even more strongly into my nose. I’d never noticed it before today, but suddenly it was the most obvious smell in the kitchen.
“You look here,” I said, my voice low and commanding. I felt it resonating in my chest, the same strange way it had after I’d taken a whiff of my new cologne. “I’ve put up with this bratty little teen act for some time, and today I’m well and truly tired of it. You’re 18 now — an adult — and if you can’t start treating your father with a little bit more respect you’ll learn real fast exactly who wears the pants in this household, who puts food on the table and who puts clothes on that body of yours.”
This was probably more words than I’d ever directed at McKenzie at one time, and I saw that her eyes had gone wide with shock. Her lips parted as though she was trying to say something, then she took a deep breath and a flush rose in her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell, and I noticed all of a sudden that I was even closer to her than before.
I took a deep breath of my own, and a surge of that earlier energy rushed through me. “Do you understand me?” I asked, my voice low and my eyes boring into hers.
McKenzie blinked, her hazel eyes glazing as her lips parted in a short gasp. Her tongue flicked out nervously to wet her soft lips. She looked distracted, suddenly, and I saw her gaze flicker up and down my body. “Yes, Daddy...” she murmured, eyes down. She swallowed, evidently nervous. “Are you wearing a new cologne or something... ?” she asked weakly, obviously trying to change the subject. “It smells really good...”
I was silent, ignoring the question and letting the gravity of the moment sink in as I stared into the teenager’s pretty face. I didn’t even register the fact that McKenzie had called me “Daddy.” She never did that. It was either “dude” or some other chatty teenage noun. I was focused on a single thing: the fact that this would be the last time that I allowed McKenzie leeway in her treatment of me.
The Man of the house deserves respect. He provides for his women and his women will treat him as he has earned.
The rush of adrenaline wore off after several seconds, the haze that had seemed to cover my vision fading away. Oh fuck... I noticed, as I stepped back, that the raw, pulsing electricity that burned in my veins had had an unintended side effect. I was rock hard, my cock straining against my boxers and tenting the crotch of my slacks. What the hell? My body hasn’t done anything like this since high school...
I turned with a cough, doing my best to mask my unfortunate situation by pretending that I was too frustrated to look at my stepdaughter. “Good,” I grunted, trying to maintain my facade of alpha dominance. “The kitchen had better be clean by the time your mother gets home to make dinner.” Without another word, I strode confidently upstairs and then collapsed on my bed, my face in my hands.
“What the fuck just happened?” I asked myself, shaking my head and massaging my temples. Where did all of that come from? Did I cross a line? My brain felt like it was battling with itself, half of me screaming that I was fucking with the status quo and the other half sternly demanding that I stop fucking tolerating the way things had been.
I took several deep breaths, the scent of my cologne strangely calming. Evidently the self-hypnosis recording had affected me more than I had expected. That was okay. I hadn’t done anything wrong, I justified. I’d just given McKenzie a stern lecture that she’d had coming her way for some time.
I let my mind relax, breathing out all of my tension and allowing myself to unwind some of the tightness that still lurked in my body. My cock throbbed, reminding me of a place where there was still quite a lot of tension. And how did this happen? I asked myself. It’s not like you get turned on by your own daughter!
I squeezed my hands into fists, battling with myself and swallowing, hard. I stood up, walking toward the bathroom. I’ll just get rid of this, I thought, and then maybe I can figure out what to do about that interaction.
Before I could cross the floor, there was a knock behind me.
I flinched, startled, and whipped around to see McKenzie standing in the doorway. She had one hand raised, a dainty fist having just knocked on the doorframe, and her figure was outlined in the sunlight streaming through the window behind me.
“Hey...” she said, her voice quiet and sounding a little rattled. “Can I come in?” She didn’t seem to notice my current bodily situation, her eyes staring submissively down at the floor.
I felt a surge of pity. Maybe I was a bit too harsh... I took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah,” I told her. “Sure.”
She glanced up, her eyes meeting mine for a second before they slid away nervously.
I sat on the bed and patted the mattress next to me, offering her a spot.
She approached slowly and sat, then leaned up against me, her head on my shoulder. In that instant she felt closer to me than she ever had in the years I’d known her.
“What is it?” I asked.
It was a moment before she responded. I felt her body rise and fall as she took a preparatory breath. “I’m sorry...” she murmured. Her voice was soft and gentle, apologetic. “I ... I haven’t been good to you.”
I felt her hair on my cheek, smelling the coconut scent of her conditioner. It did things to me that it shouldn’t have. Instinctively, I put an arm around her and pulled her closer. “It’s okay,” I muttered, kissing her temple gently. “I shouldn’t have gotten so riled up about it.”
McKenzie scooched around so she was looking up into my face, her hand resting on my thigh. I tried not to think about it, but her hand was only a few inches away from my semihard length.
“No, you were right.” She bent down, then, and kissed my knuckles softly. It was the kind of kiss that a devout Catholic gives to the Pope. Or that a subject gives to her king ... Then, strangely, she lifted my hand gently and turned it over, planting her lips softly on the inside of my wrist and breathing in deeply. “You smell so good...” she whispered.
I furrowed my brow. “What?” I asked, my voice husky and rough.
“You’re so good...” she said, eyes flashing up into mine. “So good to me, and to my mom. I know that we don’t appreciate you enough. That even though you satisfy all of our needs...” Suddenly, inexplicably, her hand was sliding forward, into forbidden territory. “ ... we don’t satisfy all of yours.”
I growled low in my throat as her slim fingers covered the long, thick rod that bulged in my slacks. “Honey...” I said warningly. I could feel something rising inside of me, something that I might not be able to hold back if it came to the surface. “What are you doing... ?”
But McKenzie was in her own world, her lips now by my ear as she leaned forward and brushed a line of dainty kisses down my jawline. “Nothing, Daddy...” she murmured, her breath hot on my neck. “Just...” she began to stroke. “ ... making you feel good...”
I swallowed, battling my arousal and also the strange force that threatened to overwhelm me. This is wrong! Some small part of me cried out weekly. This is so fucking right, a stronger part of me boomed back. “McKenzie —” I tried again, but this time she cut me off by raising her head and kissing me full on the mouth. “Mmph...” I groaned, her soft, willing lips covering mine and taking me by surprise.
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