Mind Controlled Mom Novels & Stories

"Poor little Molly Alderdice. Just another plastic, ugly bitch who got turned a few decades too late and married a closet case. Now she takes her issues out on the pathetic human boys her husband brutalizes. Just like she did with you." "I don't know what you're talking about." It scared Bella that Mrs. Alderdice only grew more incensed as Sarah spoke. She wasn't scared or confused by the declarations, just furious. "I know you don't, sweetie, and that's partially my fault," said Sarah. "See, your mind is all screwed up. I laid this perfect framework in there when you were little, and this hag's husband and son went in and messed it all up with their Mind Control for Dummies hatchet job, and

I start a slow steady rhythm of easing my hard cock in and out of Mom's sweltering pussy while Susan sucks her clit into her mouth, and together we push our mom over the top. "Ohmygod! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh, Nick! Oh Susan!" Mom screams as her orgasm rips through her body and I keep pounding my hard cock into her spasming pussy. Mom doesn't know that Susan and I have used the transmitter to give us complete control over our arousal levels, and must be surprised as hell, not to mention out of her mind with pleasure, when I keep pistoning into her.

Mom dimmed her eyes at me, “You foolish girl. Had it been I knew you would be this foolish, I would have aborted you when I was pregnant of you. You are a total wasted fetus.” “Mrs. Brant!” Doctor Bill protested and widened his gaze at mom, “Why would you say such a thing to your daughter? Do you realize the gravity of what you attempted to do to Brian? You attempted murder…” Mom stamped her feet on the floor, “I don’t give a damn about a dead, mad man. How can I kill someone who is already dead? The mad man stole my daughter from me. I have no other child except Melissa. This is not the path I chose for her. She is too young for marriage let alone getting married to a mad, dead man…”

"Martin, are you even human? Those are Mom's ashes! You killed her to please Waverly, and now you've scattered her remains too. Are you happy now?" Martin's eyes widened in shock, and he immediately told everyone to stop throwing things away. With trembling hands, he called his department, and moments later, his expression grew heavy. Just when I thought he might feel remorse, he suddenly ordered people to snatch the urn from my hands. I held on tight, sobbing loudly. "Martin, what are you doing? That's Mom's urn! She's your own mother! Make them let go! Let go!" Martin took the urn from them, staring down at me with cold disappointment as I fell apart on the floor. "What kind of terrible th

I said with a sigh. "Alison don’t call your brother a psychopath," I heard he saying. "Okay okay, he’s not a psychopath, he’s just a control freak," I said, snorting. "When I get back I want the house polished, Alison, I don’t care what magic you invent, but if I find a pin out of place, we’ll do the math," Mom said this time. "Okay okay, you know I’m an angel. Have fun and say hello to Adam. Bye!" I said by hanging up the phone to keep them from continuing.

Mom sat calmly on the couch, sipping coffee as if she were enjoying a slow evening. I kicked over a wooden chair the moment I stepped inside. She didn't even blink. The coffee in her cup didn't ripple. She said, "With your temper, I'm impressed you managed to tolerate Sebastian for so long." "I'm sick! I'm a patient! I could kill him and still plead insanity!" Mom frowned, set her cup down, and spoke with that soft, dangerous gentleness only she could pull off. "You understand your behavior, and you can control it.

Aaron’s POV As I tried explaining to my mom, she was feeling reluctant to listen just because she was eager to get me out of prison and deal with the person who had brought her son to the police station. My mom was a no-nonsense person who always wanted to be at the top and would not allow anyone to take advantage of her. Mum always wanted to be in charge and wouldn’t agree to allow anyone else to control or be controlling her. I knew her so well, and I tried to calm her down.

"What are you doing?" Dad looked at Mom in disbelief. But Mom only let out a cold laugh, no hesitation in her eyes as she plunged the syringe deep into Denise's back and yanked it out just as swiftly. Watching Denise grimace and wince in pain, Dad's face instantly turned crimson with fury. "Nicole, have you lost your mind? Do you even realize what you've done?" His voice cracked. Mom let out a bitter, tearful laugh. "Yes, I've lost my mind. I lost it the day Mary died."

However, her overture was deftly evaded, my mother swiftly sidestepping the attempted hug. My father, with the swiftness of a seasoned protector, interceded, his voice projecting a mixture of protectiveness and disbelief as he interrogated, "Who are you?" Undeterred by my father's authoritative presence, the mysterious woman, her expression an unsettling blend of possessiveness and determination, retorted, "I'm sorry, Mr. Man, but I'm speaking with my babe." The palpable tension, hitherto rippling beneath the surface, erupted into full-blown bewilderment. A palpable question lingered in the air, unspoken yet unmistakable: "Is this woman in her right mind?"

Mom required our home to be completely free of dust and water stains. We had to wash our hands three times using the seven-step technique, and we had to strip and disinfect ourselves before entering the house. Even the trash can had to stay completely empty. Once she started cleaning, she wouldn't stop for hours. I grew frantic and shouted, "Mom, stop cleaning! Grayson will be back in five hours! Once he returns, you'll never be able to save me." Unfortunately, no matter how loudly I yelled, Mom stayed busy with her chores over there.