The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Megan Chance flung open the door to the steamy bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel with a second towel snuggly draped around her body and tucked tightly underneath her arms. Her sweaty skin hadn’t had a moment to begin cooling off, which was due just as much to the boiling temper that was obvious on her stern face as well as her recent hot shower.

“Mom!” she called, fists clenched. “He was doing it again!” Megan left damp footprints in the carpet as she stomped around the upstairs open-loft landing. Her enraged voice echoed across the house and floated over the decorative wooden railings for all to hear downstairs.

When Megan’s mom emerged from her bedroom, Megan couldn’t help but sigh. Having a stripper for a mom had plenty of humiliating aspects to it. Megan had grown quite used to the jokes and gossip from peers and had learned to roll with it.

However, one never completely becomes accustomed to seeing your own mother emerge from her bedroom stark-ass naked.

“Mom, could you put some clothes on while you’re at home at least?”

April Chance’s perfect hourglass figure filled out the doorframe to her bedroom, her blonde wavy hair and tanned body practically glowing in the dark. She had obviously been getting ready for the coming night, as the sun was setting outside. While most moms would put their make-up on in the morning, twilight was usually when April would begin putting hers on. Megan covered her eyes to avoid taking in too much of her mother’s surgically-enhanced curvy body, and April remained oblivious to her daughter’s embarrassment.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” April asked in her high-pitched, and perpetually confused, voice. Putting her french manicured hands on her hips, April thick lips pouted with concern for her daughter. Stripper or not, April was a good attentive mother. She would do anything for her daughter—she just had a tough time coming through for Megan when April’s limited intellect prevented her from being much help.

With her hand still shielding her eyes, Megan explained, slowly, although with a volcanic-rage bubbling just under the surface of her controlled voice. “He was doing it again, mom…” Glancing up, Megan could see the wheels turning in her poor mother’s head as she tried her hardest to make any attempt at an inference.

Finally, April caved: “Who?”

Megan almost lost it right there, but she was used to her mom’s simple nature. “Hugh, mom. Hugh was…peeking at me through the bathroom door—again.”

April giggled. “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, sweetie. I think he’s downstairs anyway… Daddy?!” April, still completely nude, stepped across the threshold of her bedroom and leaned over the railing, her curvy ass poking out. Megan winced at her mother’s term of endearment for Hugh.

“Ya, babe?” came the innocent voice calling back from the lower floor.

“Were you just up here?” April asked in a cheery voice.

“Nope! Been down here for hours! Must’ve been the wind that cracked open Megan’s door!”

April nodded, convinced, and looked back to her daughter. “There—see? It was probably the wind…”

Listening to Hugh and her mother’s superficial conversation, Megan’s frustration reached its breaking point. “He’s lying, mom. How did he already know why you were asking?”

April’s logic skills couldn’t follow.

“Mom—it wasn’t the wind!” Megan shouted. “It was that good-for-nothing, perverted, piece of shit that’s been mooching off of us for as long as I can !”

“Meg—”

“No!” Megan threw her hands up. “I’m leaving tomorrow for college and I’m never coming back here as long as that asshole is still here.” Her ultimatum declared, Megan stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door, locking it behind her.

I fucking hate Hugh Leroy.

Megan mentally repeated her mantra as she stewed in place, fists tightly clenched, allowing her fuming temper to subside. She counted backwards from ten and slowed her breathing, her reliable method of calming down since childhood.

10, 9, 8…, she thought.

Her dark room provided brief sanctuary from the ridiculous circus that lay on the other side of her locked door. Surrounded by trophies and ribbons, Megan’s room was her happy place—her own self-curated archive of accomplishment.

…7, 6, 5…

Soon, she wouldn’t have to shut herself off and hide for large portions of the day. Soon, she would have freedom and peace. She’d be surrounded by other patrons of academia—people on her level. Not skeevy strip club pervs or ignorant slobbering pigs. Soon, she would be free of Hugh Leroy—

I fucking hate Hugh Leroy, her inner voice repeated.

…4, 3, 2…

Hugh Leroy was April’s boyfriend, and Megan couldn’t stand him. To be clearer—she fucking hated him. Much to Megan’s frustration, her mother was absolutely devoted to him.

…1…

It all made zero sense to Megan: her mom fucked around at the club nightly, while Hugh had random girlfriends all over town—yet they stayed together.

Zero sense.

…0.

With renewed control, Megan turned on her bedside lamp and began going through her bookshelves. They were lined with the evidence of Megan exceptional aptitude. Science Fair trophies. Mathlete trophies. Upper-level Foreign Language fluency accolades. High Honors certificates in every subject. Ribbons for various academic competitions. She had an empty box on the floor, ready to pack for her trek to a better life. This was all coming with her. Some of her friends left their bedrooms frozen in time, ready for them to return on holidays—but Megan had no plans to sleep in this room after tonight.

With great care, she lifted her framed diploma off the wall and gently placed it in the open box.

She had low expectations that her ultimatum to her mother would swing her way. April was clearly never going to tire of Hugh’s bullshit—in fact, she would most likely just giggle her way through it while fucking the highest tipper at the club in the backroom.

As disappointing as it was, Megan couldn’t imagine her mother any other way. Anytime jealousy crept up from seeing her friends’ “normal” moms—whether they were baking cookies or cross-stitching—Megan would tell herself to “get over it.” Her mom was her mom, and she loved her for who she was—even if she made it difficult to be…proud of her.

Megan had never really known her dad. There were vague memories of childhood birthday parties with her dad dropping by, but he only faded further and further as time continued on. Megan wasn’t even sure where he was nowadays. Over the years, Megan had learned to rely on herself. Her own wits and intellect had gotten her a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious ivy league school—hundreds of miles away. Graduating top of her class, Megan had the road before her paved—and, being 18 years old now, she was excited to finally cut out on her own, living alone and ing herself.

She placed a trophy she had won for the 2017 Latin Bowl into the box—then followed it up by placing the 2018 trophy right beside it. Megan smiled as she looked down, knowing that this box would be full before the night was over.

As the sun disappeared over the horizon outside, Megan realized that she was starving.

Shit… she thought, dreading the need to leave her room.

Taking a deep breath, she left her packing and unlocked her door. She made a plan as she descended the stairs, figuring she could make something quickly—a salad or something—then scamper back upstairs.

As the giggles of her mother and the horny snickering of Hugh became clearer as she reached the ground floor, Megan almost decided that she’d rather stay hungry until the two of them left for the strip club in an hour. As the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed to life, Megan was reminded that time seemed to slow down considerably when she was miserable, so she opted to go ahead and eat.

“Oh, Daddy, you’re so bad,” April tittered. She was dressed finally, in a glittery shear pullover dress. Balancing on her tall clear stilettos, she leaned over the kitchen bar as Hugh Leroy sat on a stool and leered at her cleavage.

Megan stood in disgust as she watched him reach into the top of her mother’s neckline and help himself to a handful. Pulling out April’s tit, he snickered. “These puppies gonna make me a lot of cash tonight?”

April batted her babydoll eyes at him as she was fondled. “You know it, Daddy…”

Hugh tucked his girlfriend’s tit back into her dress, gave it an encouraging pat, and then did the same for her ass. “You better get going so you won’t be late.”

April nodded, and giggled as she teetered away on her heels, her boobs almost jiggling free from her dress. She ed by a framed photo of herself by the front door. It was from a Vegas vacation she had taken with Hugh, years ago. She loved seeing it everyday as she ed all of the dicks she had sucked that weekend. She had even gotten on stage at a few amateur strip club events! It was one of her proudest moments. Spinning around, she waved to her daughter. “Bye, honey! I’ll be back around 2!”

“Bye, mom,” Megan murmured as she began gathering tomatoes and cucumbers to make herself a salad.

As April left the house, Hugh turned his unwanted attention to Megan. “Whatchu gonna do with those cucumbers, honey pie?” he asked with a smirk.

Megan gave him a glare as she brought a blade down onto the cutting board, slicing the cucumber in half.

Hugh laughed her off, “Yikes.”

“I’m going to eat this quickly so that I can get back upstairs to finish packing,” she said, matter-of-factly, as she began scattering romaine lettuce into a salad plate.

Hugh nodded. “I see—you got a lot of stuff to pack, after all.” Megan didn’t look up and instead finished up making her salad. “Awards and whatnot. You’re quite a brainy girl, aren’t you, sweetcheeks?”

Chewing on her first bite, Megan gave him another silent glare at the mention of one of his misogynistic pet names. With her mouth full, she grumbled, “You can talk to my mom like that all you want, but I’m not answering to shit like that.”

Hugh raised his hands in defense. “Excuse me, Miss Thang. Megan. Sorry. Damn, the smart ones are always the most uptight— Say…actually…” Megan ignored him, but Hugh stood up and reached into his pocket. He then produced a small card. “Maybe that overachieving brain of yours can be of some help to me. Can you read this?”

He held the card across the counter to Megan as she stabbed another tomato with her fork. She glanced up ively and saw that it was a plain brown card with some writing on it. “I always figured you were illiterate…” she mumbled as she chewed.

Hugh laughed at her fierceness. “No, hon— er, Megan. Just look at it and it’ll make sense.”

With a sigh, she snatched the card from his hand and gave it a once over. It was true: it made sense.

“This is Latin…” she said, squinting at the words. “What is this?”

Hugh shrugged, “It’s from a client at the club. It’d be a big help for a deal if you could help me out…”

“Help you how?”

Hugh sat down, scooting his stool closer to Megan. She curled her nose at his strong cologne and tried to lean back. He only moved closer and took on a sincere tone. “Well, what’s it mean? I know you’re good at this stuff. My ol’ noggin can’t figure it forwards or backwards. Looks like gibberish to me.”

Setting her fork down, Megan looked closer at the words and began sounding them out.

“Sub noctis medio velamine…”

Hugh listened with bated breath, “Keep going…”

“…vestigiis matronae insistere.”

She flipped the card over to see if there was anything else, but that was all.

“Any ideas?” he asked, with a strange smile.

“Well, the first part,” Megan explained. “‘Sub’ is ‘under,’ and ‘noctis’ is ‘night.’”

“Okay, okay…”

“Um, ‘medio velamine’ is…’the middle…veil’.”

Hugh sounded impressed so far with her translation, “Interesting.”

“So…’under the middle veil of night’… Sounds like a fancy way of saying midnight to me.”

Hugh seemed satisfied with that. “Makes sense… What about the second part?”

With an exasperated breath, Megan continued, “‘vestigiis’ is ‘footsteps’…or rather ‘in footsteps’.”

Hugh nodded.

“‘Matronae’ is obviously ‘mother’,” she said. “And ‘insistere’ means to ‘pursue’…or ‘follow’.”

Hugh sat back. “Now what does that mean, do you suppose? Pursuing a mother?”

“Or ‘following in the footsteps of a mother’,” Megan suggested, then added, “And ‘at midnight,’ for some reason…”

Hugh leaned close again, letting his cologne waft over Megan until she began to feel dizzy. “Can you read the whole thing out loud for me again? I gotta hear it, ya know?”

With a sigh, Megan looked back at the card. “Sub noctis media velamine, vestigiis matronae insistere.”

Hugh laughed and clasped his hands together. “Beautiful! You got a gorgeous voice there, sugartits. Read it for me just one more time!”

Like a wrecking ball, Megan’s temper came crashing back into the room. She slammed the card on the table and dropped her fork. I fucking hate Hugh Leroy, popped back into her head, like a song she couldn’t forget. “Read it yourself, asshole. I’ve got to finish packing—”

“Shit…shit…sorry,” Hugh said, quickly trying to recover. “Just one more time, please,” he begged, following behind Megan as she stormed off.

“Get the fuck away from me!” she scolded. “I’m getting my suitcase from the attic—do not follow me up there!”

Hugh stopped his pursuit and helplessly watched her leave. When she was out of earshot, he cursed under his breath and slapped his hands together in frustration. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was almost 11pm.

In the attic, Megan dug through the dusty books, broken lamps, and outdated magazines. The dim bulb overhead swung back and forth, sending stretched-out oblong shadows splashing across the wooden beams. She was about to give up if only to escape the musty heat, but then she finally found the suitcase she was looking for.

There you are— she thought to herself, but was suddenly distracted.

Something caught her eye.

What is that…? she wondered, maneuvering her way over busted clocks and forgotten winter coats. As the got closer, she realized she was looking at an old trunk.

“Never seen this before,” she mumbled to herself, setting the suitcase down.

The lid was locked with an old cheap padlock. Inspecting it, she saw that the years had not been kind to it. The rust flaked off in her hand and she gave the lock a soft tug. The blinked at the sound of metal cracking, then decided to give it a harder tug.

With barely any effort, the cheap lock crumbled apart in her hand.

“Hm,” she grunted, then thought, Someone wanted this locked up but didn’t have the foresight to buy a better lock… She could only think of one person that might fit that description.

With her arm outstretched, she pushed the lid up above her head and knelt down. It was still dark, but the pendulum bulb hanging from the ceiling send light over her shoulder in steady intervals. What she found herself looking at made her breath catch in her throat.

“What the…fuck…” she softly choked out.

Megan’s head was spinning. Doesn’t make any sense, she thought. As her mind tried to comprehend what she was even looking at. The trunk was overflowing with academic awards. Trophies. Blue ribbons. It looked just like the contents of her shelves, only the name was different.

Well…the first name was different.

Her lungs were having a hard time keeping up with her disorientation, and she began to hyperventilate. She attempted to calm herself as she tried to wrap her head around what she was seeing.

10…9…8…, she began, steadying herself and closing her eyes. She then began to dig through the trunk with her free arm, letting the contents spill to the floor. She whispered aloud the name on them as she dug: “April Chance, April Chance, April Chance…” Were there any other April Chances that they could possibly be referring to? There was no way in hell that her mom was an A-Honor Roll student.

She let the lid slam close as her eyes wildly darted around the attic, searching for answers. She tried to calm herself. She continued counting, letting her breath slow.

…7…6…5…

Had there even been Science Fair trophies? Megan was positive she had seen two or three. She had to go back to double-check, but she was hesitant to go back to the trunk. As it stood, she could have imagined it all.

…4…3…2…

Going back to confirm would make it undeniable. It would make it real. Permanent. It made zero sense.

…1…

Zero sense.

…0.

With held breath, Megan lifted the trunk’s lid again and began to dig through. There weren’t two or three Science Fair trophies in here after all—there were five. Among a Debate Club ribbon and two Model UN awards, there were more certificates for “Excellence in Academics” that Megan could count.

A yearbook fell onto the ground at Megan’s feet. Flipping through the pages, she found her mom’s portrait. She looked nothing like the stripper she was now. Instead, she looked like a plain studious young lady.

She looked like Megan.

With her lips trembling, Megan mouthed the words printed beneath her mother’s name.

“Most…Likely…To…Succeed…”

Slamming the yearbook shut, she tossed it aside. The sparkling of something bright in the trunk caught her eye. It blinked at her as the light continued to rock back and forth. With her hand shaking, she reached in and lifted up a 1st place Latin Bowl trophy, the year 2001 printed on it.

According to the contents of this trunk, April Chance was more accomplished and smarter than Megan. This was the same April Chance currently at the neon-lit downtown club and rubbing her pussy on a drunk man’s thigh while he chugged a pint of warm beer.

Megan rushed out of the attic, still grasping her mom’s trophy.

As if in a fever dream, Megan stumbled downstairs, her mother’s Latin trophy in her trembling hand. The year 2001 printed across the name plate felt like a far away relic. Just two years before Megan was born. Her mom was an academic marvel, and then…

“What the fuck happened…” she whispered to herself to the empty kitchen. Hugh was nowhere to be seen, which was good, because she didn’t think she would be able to handle him at the moment.

Then, she saw Hugh’s card still lying on the counter, next to her half-eaten salad.

Following in the footsteps of a mother…

Walking to it, she picked it back up and studied the ancient words—a dead language alive in her hands.

Midnight…

She looked at the microwave clock. 11:49, it read. What happens at midnight? she wondered.

“Does this have anything to do with it all?” she asked the empty kitchen. When she received no answer back, she looked back at the printed words, and read aloud, “Sub noctis media velamine, vestigiis matronae insistere.”

Then, she smelled Hugh’s strong cologne and her blood ran cold.

“Whooo—boy, ya did it!”

Megan yelped and spun around at Hugh’s startling voice. He was sitting quietly in a living room chair and watching her intensely.

“You actually read it yourself! I’ve been down here trying to figure out how to trick you into reading it out loud a third time…and you just did it on your own! Talk about just-my-luck…”

“What are you talking about? What does all of this mean?” she asked, holding up Hugh’s card and her mother’s award.

“Oh, girly-girl,” Hugh said, slapping his knee, “ You found your momma’s little secret!”

Megan offered no response and waited for more information.

“Yeah,” he continued, looking off in space, “Your mother was quite the brainy bitch when I first met her—just like you! Your dad and her were quite the couple. Luckily for me, she was good at reading Latin as well. One late night with me and I had her wrapped around my finger—of course, you were always a part of her life. Your dad was easy to get rid of, but your mom wasn’t going to lose interest in you, even as a braindead slut.”

Megan tried to follow, but it still made no sense to her.

“Those Latin words…,” he explained, ”…when coupled with a special potion I got made up for me, can mold a young lady into what’s printed on the card. It’s a little something I learned about overseas. I really have no fuckin’ idea what they say exactly! Isn’t that funny? Luckily for me, you’re good with that brainy stuff… I just tell the guy what I want as the final result and I pay him! Had the same thing done to your mom right after you were born. She was good with that Latin shit too! Once you read it out loud three times, while inhaling my special cologne, your fate was sealed.” Hugh tapped his wrist and grinned, “Now, we just wait.”

She had to get out of here. Grabbing her shoes by the door, she frantically pulled them onto her feet.

“Megan…” he tauntingly called.

Looking back up, she gasped as she saw Hugh again. He was still sitting in the living room recliner, facing her and—

Megan’s breath caught in her throat.

He actually had his cock out. He was stroking it as he watched her.

“What the f—” she spat.

“Don’t get upset, honey,” Hugh mumbled as he stroked. “You’ll be suckin’ on it in a few seconds.” His eyes cut to the grandfather clock in the hallway and Megan saw that midnight was at hand.

11:59

Sub noctis media velamine, vestigiis matronae insistere

Under the mid-night veil, you’ll follow in your mother’s footsteps, she translated in her mind. This isn’t real, she then told herself. People can’t just…

She realized that she was panicking again.

10…9…8…, Megan counted in her head. She held to her breathing method like a life preserver as she felt her head getting tingly and fuzzy, and her pussy getting all gushy and gooey. She looked around for something to cling to, something to ground herself as her world wavered under her feet.

…7…um…6… she continued, backing into the hallway by the front door.

…4…no wait…6? she thought, scratching her head. Somethin’ feels funny, she thought.

The grandfather clock began to echo through the quiet house.

As midnight struck, the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and Megan slowly sank down. Her knees weakened as she stared at nothing. With a soft bump, her bottom hit the bench next to the front door as Megan meekly planted herself down. Her eyes were unblinking and her face calm. Looking forward, she found herself staring at her mother’s framed Vegas photo.

Vestigiis

Her mother’s beaming smile.

Matronae

Her mother’s ample chest.

Insistere

Her mother’s simple eyes.

Megan blinked her own simple eyes.

What was I doin’? she thought, then ed her counting. Countin’ backwards is hard, she thought, just as she forever lost the ability to ever do it again. She wouldn’t need to anyway. Megan felt a sense of pure joy slowly waking up inside of her. A placid smile took over her face as she seemingly awakened from a long dream. She felt so good. Refreshed. Like a new person! Like a cheerful pleasant slut that politely asked to suck your dick and would be glad to wait, which sometimes happened if her mom was around! A confused stare slowly formed on Megan’s face as she began to wonder what she was just doing.

She stood up, and made her way into the kitchen. She saw the half-eaten salad from before and tried with great effort to figure out what had seemed so important that she had left her dinner unfinished.

Then, she felt Hugh step behind her. She barely reacted as she felt her skirt lifted up, her panties scooted to the side, and Hugh’s hand lightly push her to bend forward. Like a simple cow, she allowed herself to be positioned. Then, she barely noticed as Hugh slid his cock in her wet waiting pussy. Instead of worrying that Hugh was using her as a cock socket, her first concern was: What about mom?

“Um…Hugh?” she stammered, as Hugh picked up his pace and softly pounded her backside with his hips as the two stood in the kitchen.

“Yeah, darlin’?” he asked between huffs of breaths.

“Won’t mom be upset that you’re fucking me?” she asked innocently, scratching her scrambled head.

“Nah, she’ll be fine,” he explained. “She’s not here right now. I’ll fuck her when she gets back, then she won’t have missed out on anything.”

“Ok, Hugh…” she said meekly.

“And, it’s ‘Daddy’ to you,” he added, thrusting in and out of Megan.

“Ok, Daddy…” she said equally as meekly.

I wonder why I was so worried about the clock, she thought, losing focus on what was happening behind her. She figured she must’ve been keeping track of when her mom would be finished flashing her titties at cocks for the night. When did mommy say she’d be home? she thought, trying her hardest to .

Before she could recall, Hugh grasped her wrists like reigns and used them as leverage as he pulled her back into him while he spurted his cum inside of her. When he was finished, Megan felt Daddy’s cock slip out of her slippery snatch as dribbles of his cum followed behind it, running down her inner thigh.

With a clap of his hands, Hugh enthusiastically spun around. “Let’s finish packing up all that junk in your room!” he suggested. Flashing a cheery smile, Megan figured that was a good idea and followed him upstairs. As a team, the pair torn down pinned ribbons and certificates of achievement. With swoops of her arm, Megan toppled trophies and awards that she no longer cared about, nor completely comprehended. She just knew that her room was messy! Thankfully, Hugh was here to help her get rid of all this crap.

Somewhere in the process, the glass frame with her diploma was shattered by falling debris. Megan, startled, looked up at Hugh as if she was in trouble. “It’s okay, angel,” he said, pinching her chin. “It’s all just trash now anyway.”

With a relieved laugh, Megan repeated: “Trash!” She then threw down a trophy for a 2019 Latin Bowl that broke into pieces. Megan used to be really good at Latin, but now she had a tough enough time with living languages and would have no use for it.

When they were finished, Hugh and Megan carried boxes up to the attic. Opening up her mother’s trunk, they both overturned their boxes, letting the contents pour out in an avalanche of Megan’s forgotten life. Her and her mom’s former life intermingled into a pile of former glories.

“Close ’er up, would ya?” Hugh asked once they were done, pointing at the trunk lid.

With an echoing thud, Megan follow his order.

The pair held hands as they strolled back to the living room to wait out the rest of the night until April’s return. Megan, with her arms clung to his torso, laid her head in Hugh’s lap as he stroked her hair.

For the next two hours, they sat together in the cool glow of the TV. After an hour, Hugh asked her to retrieve him a beer from the kitchen, which she gladly did. When she came back into the living room, Hugh had his dick out.

“Blowjob, Daddy?!” she asked in a merry tone as she sank to her knees.

With a wordless grin, Hugh reclined back and tucked his interlocked fingers behind his head. Megan didn’t need a verbal answer. She knew that Hugh wanted his dick sucked, so she offered up her throat!

As he stared at sports highlights on the tube, Hugh had his dick worshiped by his girlfriend’s dumb daughter. Megan gulped and glucked on his long cock—and she was also kind enough to fondle his balls as she slobbered up and down his shaft.

Hugh had a great night—and so did Megan.

I love sucking Daddy’s dick! she repeated in her head until she heard her mother’s car pull up in the driveway.

THE NEXT NIGHT

Instead of moving out, Megan stayed put, her college registration canceled. April had been confused when she walked in last night to find her daughter going down on her boyfriend, but her logic went as follows: Hugh has a big dick, and big dicks love getting sucked. It made sense that any girl would be choking on Daddy’s dick, let alone her daughter.

The two bonded over how big Hugh’s cock was, then Megan had asked if she could come strip at the club “with her mommy.” April had been almost brought to tears at such a sweet sentiment.

April had gotten Megan all dolled up for her debut. Hugh took down all of the shower curtains and threw them away, since they weren’t needed anymore. As Megan’s showered, with Hugh sitting on the bathroom sink, watching her soap her tits up, he explained to her about how she would be earning money for him at the strip club. April then helped her pick out outfits and did her make-up.

Finally, Megan took the stage.

As Megan tore her top off and shook her boobs at the crowd of hooting men, April looked on with proud eyes. Leaning down to the edge of the stage, a few guys gladly copped a free feel of Megan’s tits as others stuffed singles into her shiny G-string.

Gotten teach her to hold some back and let the $20 bills come out, she told herself. Hugh likes the twenties the best…

Before the night was over, the club held a contest and Megan was ecstatic when she actually won! She had never gotten an award before! Megan was overjoyed as the club MC strolled on-stage, patting her on the ass and telling her what a great job she’d done that night. He had placed a sash over her neck. Megan made a mental note to throw him another fuck later for being so sweet to her. The irony was lost on her that he was giving her this award in the first place because of the generous assfucking she had allowed him in the men’s room earlier that night.

April clapped and cheered, a proud mother ing her daughter, as she ground her ass up against the crotch of a sweaty man in a loose tie. She felt his dick getting harder against her bare buttcheek and began wiggling her butt faster until she felt a sticky wetness pool up as he came.

Megan came running up to them, a bright smile plastered on her made-up face. “Mommy, I won!” she screamed.

April clapped for her as she continued grinding, “I saw, baby!”

Looking down at the sash draped across her bare tits, Megan attempted to read, tracing the words with her finger, “Yeah, I’m…uh…’Muh…Most…um, lick?” She lost focus and instead squeezed her big boobs and giggled.

“‘Most Likely’, sweetie,” April corrected her.

“Oh!” she continued. “Most…Likely…to…uh…S—Suck…”

“Most Likely To Suck Cocks,” April finished for her.

The man underneath April’s ass guffawed, “She ain’t too bright is she?”

April glanced back at him and shook her head. She whispered, “She’s not, but we love her anyway.”

The man nodded, and patted April’s ass. “Why dontchu hop up and let this lil’ lady have a turn grindin’ on my dick?”

April was happy to let her award-winning daughter have a turn.

Later, as Hugh counted the cash his girls had earned for him after a night’s work, he stroked Megan’s pigtailed hair as she happily suckled on one of his balls. Giggling, she spat it out then sat up and reached for her mouth.

“Sorry—got a hair stuck in my teeth!” she said, then smiled as she held up her fingers. She still wore her sash, proudly draped across her tits, labeling her Most Likely To Suck Cocks. “I got it!” She happily went back to nursing on Hugh’s left nut.

Megan, sitting naked on the floor at Hugh’s feet, had a big vibrator stuffed up her butt that sent a joyful buzz throughout her entire body. As she licked and kissed Hugh’s heavy hairy sack, she clutched at his leg. Her crotch was nestled up against his calf and she absent-mindedly humped it as she made-out with his balls.

April sat at Hugh’s other leg and sucked his cock.

“Wanna switch?” April asked her daughter, popping Hugh’s dick out of her lips and extending it towards Megan as an offering. Megan didn’t answer, and instead just closed her eyes and vacuumed it up, living up to her superlative. April, satisfied to see her daughter’s face filled with her boyfriend’s cock, took over with nut duty.

“Hey, honey,” April said, in between ball licks. “You wanna fuck Hugh?”

Hugh’s dick popped out of Megan’s mouth as she grinned from ear to ear.

Seconds later, Megan bounced up and down, straddling Hugh’s lap. “This is…fun…Daddy!” she huffed as Hugh held her hips. April still licked Hugh’s balls as her daughter’s ass hopped up and down in front of her, but she soon began to feel a little jealous.

“Hey, let your mama have a turn, sweetcheeks,” Hugh said, popping Megan on the ass. Her clit tingled at the mention of one of Hugh’s petnames for her.

She pouted, saying, “Don’t…wanna…stop!”

April only laughed. “Ten more seconds and then let’s switch.”

In a lapse of judgement, April forgot that she should probably be doing the counting for her daughter. Instead of counting, Megan just repeated a mantra over and over in her head.

I love fucking Daddy!…I love fucking Daddy!…I love fucking Daddy!…