tagMind ControlMeek Shall Inherit Ch. 02

Meek Shall Inherit Ch. 02


Warning: this story contains mind control, male and female oral sex, incest and hints of spousal abuse. Viewer discretion is advised.


Staring at the book and trying to comprehend the symbol was the catalyst. Night after night I hunched over the page and pushed my gray matter until something burst in my head. With time my abused brain recovered, and with the organic repair came a rewrite. Sections of my mind that nature and evolution had not seen fit to advance in humanity were finally being restored, and my emerging powers were the result.

Where I should feel elation I felt only guilt, crushing guilt. I couldn't continue working at the library after what Mrs. Ito and I did in her office, no matter how great it felt at the time. While she didn't seem to recall going to her knees in front of me in that dark room, I could not stop the scene from playing over and over in my mind, bringing with it a surge of guilt. I harbored a guilt born of the gut feeling that I somehow caused this to happen, and at using such a beautiful, intelligent woman. Guilt for wanting something so lewd, and then having it unexpectedly dumped into my lap - no pun intended.

It wasn't long before I had to resign from the job that I truly enjoyed and loved. The news came as a great surprise to most of the staff. Everyone including the extremely talented Mrs. Ito took me aside and asked me to reconsider; they sensed that there was a reluctance lurking behind my decision. It nearly tore my heart out each time I was forced to refuse their heartfelt requests to stay, more so because I could not share the true reason for my polite refusals. On my final day at work we all gathered around a goodbye cake, a farewell party. One by one everyone said their piece, sweet little statements that showed they would truly miss my presence there. When it was Mrs. Ito's turn to speak, she could only say that she would miss me as a coworker and friend. I scanned her beautiful face for a sign of something more, but only received a silently mouthed word - "Goodbye."

Confused and depressed, I withdrew to my bedroom. For weeks, all I wanted to do was eat, shit and masturbate to guilty memories of Mrs. Ito's warm, wet mouth. I didn't know then, but Mrs. Ito was just acting out a subconscious fantasy of mine, born of a friend's father's porn stash. We skipped school one day, Marvin and I, to creep back to his house and watch one of his father's VCR tapes while everyone was away at work. In this film, a glasses wearing librarian with the body of a porn star and lips of an angel took one of the patrons into her office and did so much more than just a blowjob. I wouldn't realize this until many months later, in the mean time I suffered a strange guilt with no real source, and dealt with it in the best way I knew how - isolation.

Every day for weeks my mother would silently pad upstairs and leave a meal outside of my bedroom door. My silent guardian would without complaint deposit breakfast at 8, lunch at 12 and dinner at 6. When I finished eating I'd place the plate and glass on the floor outside my room and without fail mother would step lightly up the stairs and retrieve the dishes. I was grateful for her respect of my condition, and after two solid months of playing hermit I felt ready to venture out of my lair and go downstairs.

When I reached the top of the stairs a rich, wet, fetid stench rose up to meet nose. The air was full of a musky mix of rot, mold and unwashed bodies. Cautiously I crept down, the smell growing strong enough to taste, to almost feel. There were no lights on downstairs, other than the flickering light from the living-room television. I walked into the room; my mother was on the couch with her back to me. I whispered "Mom?" and got no reply.

The smell from downstairs was beginning to make me panic, it was so strong and unnatural. I felt a panic attack coming on, and had to say something.

With a dry mouth and a thumping heart, I step closer. "Hey mom? What is going on down here-" I started to say, when my eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I noticed the mess.

What filled the area around the couch and was plopped haphazardly around the living room was piles upon piles of dishes, plates, knives and forks; all encrusted with weeks of food. My heart was pounding; slamming in my ears as I slowly inched around the side of the couch staring at the unnatural piles of my dishes. Things started to click into place, forming conclusions that I did not yet want to accept.

I walked around the couch and turned to face my mother. What I was greeted with shocked me to my core, all the color drained from the world in that moment. Time slowed to a stop as my eyes scanned her face, she was gaunt, skeletal. With a feeling of unreality I noticed that her once full DD breasts were deflated wasted down to almost nothing as her body slowly cannibalized all available resources. While I stood directly in front of her she took no notice, continuing to stare through me at the television screen. My mind raced, and struggled to come up with a reason for the vision that assaulted my eyes. "Is that you mom?" I asked, in disbelief.

The only reply mother could summon was a blank stare and a dry, throaty moan. My mother was a skeleton, wasted away from the once beautiful woman she was to this... ghoul. "Mother, what happened? Where is your boyfriend?" I ask, in shock. How could things go this far? The house looked like something you would see on an episode of that TV show "Hoarders" Mother choked and tried to form words, but her throat was simply to dry. I took a quick trip to the kitchen sink, moving stacks of food caked plates to get to the faucet. With tears leaking from my eyes I sponged out a glass and filled it with water.

Handing the water to my poor mother I tell her "Drink mother. Drink and tell me what in the hell happened down here."

Mother gulped down the clear tap-water, and then regurgitated it up almost as fast as it went down. I sighed sadly and rose to refill her glass, this time she took it a little slower, and sipped.

"I, I had to make breakfast, lunch and dinner, " Mother whispered.

"Every day, this was what I did," she continued in a childlike voice. "I left you alone. In between I watched television, and waited for you to empty the plates." She recited this phrase like a robot, like a preschool child would their daily numbers.

"But where is your boyfriend? Why isn't he here helping you?" I ask mother, growing angry at the situation.

With a sad look in her eyes she says "He's gone, dear. When he saw that I had to make you breakfast, lunch and dinner and watch television every day, he left." With a single sad tear she continued "I think he's angry with me, baby."

I began to connect the dots, as a realization dawned on me. I caused this, I caused Mrs. Ito's strange behavior... something started with that book and followed me home. Even then I knew I had the start of a great power, something that would grow to be as much a part of me as breathing. I eventually nursed mother back to health using my growing influence over her to encourage a return to healthy eating habits and eventually the gym. Spending time with her, I learned to control the burgeoning power that slipped out during my depression; like a natural disaster it almost robbed me of everything I loved in life and I wanted to make sure that never happened again. After regaining her health and feminine figure mother caught up with her boyfriend and tried to reconnect, but her strange spell alienated him too much. He moved on, and with time so did she.

When my power seemed to hit a wall of growth I began to play with it, small things at first like causing the mailman to trip, or the pizza boy to think we paid him when we really didn't. In time I began to amuse myself by placing ideas in other's heads, things like "I really want to dance right now" or "these clothes are itchy and need to be removed". The last one gave me hours of fun before it got old.

The implanting of ideas began with suggestive verbal commands. With time and practice I transitioned to using only thought. I slowly strengthened my mental muscle, gaining confidence enough to rob my friend Dave's store, which led quickly to the odd bank here or there - once I learned to blot myself from other people's minds.

The next level of my transformation started with a dream.

The dream began and I was back in the library, in Mrs. Ito's office. The lights were dim, the couch was soft. Mrs. Ito walked into the room silently and knelt in front of me, unbuckling my belt and undoing my jeans. My erect cock was quickly slid past her full, red lips and embedded in her tight, hot throat. She seemed not to need to breathe as she forced my dick deep into her throat over, and over again. My pleasure began to build, and that feeling... that strong urge to ejaculate began to tighten my abdomen. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that this was a dream, a "wet dream" and that I should wake up or risk messing my bed-sheets. With this realization I forced myself awake, only to open my eyes to a new reality that was stranger than any dream.

I found myself sitting upright on the edge of my twin-sized bed, and between my legs was a beautiful brunette. Just as in the dream she was gagging as her head bobbed up and down on my swollen member. Delighted and confused, I needed to know who this was slobbering on my knob. Slowly I leaned my body to the right and reached for the lamp on my nightstand. I moved carefully, wanting to keep my hips (and cock) in place. As my ass slid to the side she adjusted to follow my cock, her hair obscuring her face. Something about this devotion to keeping my member inside her throat pushed me over the edge, forcing my eyes shut and my hips to buck.

My cock jerked and pulsed in the mystery woman's mouth, gush after gush of thick, hot semen rushing to fill her stomach. Gasping for breath and shaking from the strength of the unexpected orgasm, I pushed back her hair to confirm what I already knew - It was of course, my beautiful cock-sucking mother. Swallowing the last drop, she dislodged her son's fat slippery penis from her throat. Smiling softly to herself and without a word to the owner of the cock she just engulfed mother rose to her feet and left the room.

After some initial experimentation this new twist in our mother-son relationship became a nightly ritual. Every night before bed I would compel my mother to come up and allow me to make love to her mouth. I would then let her retire to her bed to sleep it off. After a month of receiving a nightly deep cock sucking from my mother I began keeping her in my bed overnight, my very own living sex doll. As the weeks and months wore on a funny thing started to happen; mother she would moan softly after as I shot a load into her mouth. I didn't know then but this was another layer to my power, a subtle release of my subject's subconscious mind.

Eventually fucking my mother's mouth was not enough to satisfy my needs and this led to further exploration, pushing the boundaries of what I could convince myself was acceptable. The limits lied not with my mother, who for all intents and purposes was my mindless toy when I needed her to be, but in my own mind. Sex was the goal, a crime I had to work up the nerve to commit. When I compelled her to climb atop my lap and lower her pussy onto my dick she didn't hesitate, only releasing a sigh as her son's cock slid deep inside her pussy. Slowly she allowed gravity to draw her down, her warm vagina accepting my cock all the way to the hilt. My love for my mother grew as my inhibitions shrunk, and the experimentation continued. While under my control my mother's blank mind-state rendered her effectively immune to pain, anal was the next logical step.

Outside of mother and Dave my entire social circle was at my job, and with my self-imposed exile from the library that door was closed. Isolated with mother, we descended to the depths of depravity, one step at a time. Eventually we bottomed out, sinking to a level of deplorable sickness that changed bother mother and son, mindless being that she was. Reaching the lowest depths of what one human can safely do to another and still call a "sex act" was in many ways good, it established a lower limit; something I could weigh all my future endeavors against.

With a lower limit set, I then began to try and find my power's upper limits. I worked on refining my abilities, controlling my mother's speech patterns, her five senses. Using my new-found power I learned to project my mental images onto mother's mind, encouraging her to see what my mind's eye saw. I practiced expanding my range, instructing mother to walk out of the house and down to the street. When she would reach the limit of my sphere of influence, she would stop, and slowly begin to blink her eyes - waking up from the control. With a few quick steps forward I leashed her back, learning to push the limits a little further each time.

By the time I was able to reach out and mentally feel my neighbors, I already knew so many tricks. I developed through practice an effective invisibility, intangibility... inaudibility. The rush of power the first time I walked into my neighbor's house, into his wife's bathroom and stepped naked into her shower as she shaved her armpits was immense. The godlike feeling when she reached for a luffa scrub and her hand accidentally smacked into my bare, heaving chest but she didn't react? The change in how I began to view the world from that moment on was indescribable and immediate.

There were some scares, some bumps along the path. I forgot about mirrors, and learned the hard way when my neighbor's wife saw me for the first time, perched on her bed watching her dry off. The blood curdling howl she released scared me as much as it scared her, so much so that in a gesture of self defense I knocked her and all my neighbors out, in a 2 mile radius. Something about how the human mind perceives reversed images I just couldn't get a handle on for a long time. Electronic recording devices were another, the hours I spent coming up with a creative way to appear invisible to artificial eyes... I lost count. Eventually I managed to trick the machine eye, a solution I stumbled on to by mistake.

If we ever meet, remind me and I'll share the secret with you. This brings us to the current day, more or less.


Current day

While walking out of Dave's store I look around, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the blonde. By the gas pumps out front, perched atop a red bike labeled "Ducati" I see a woman wearing a black leather jacket. Covering her head is a yellow visor helmet with black flames stenciled along the sides. I walk towards her, mentally commanding her to throttle down and wait for me. Silently thanking her I climb aboard and wrap my arms around her slim, leather clad waist. She turns her helmeted head and waits for instructions; I mentally feed her the directions to my house. I'm sexually satisfied for the moment after unloading my balls deep inside Dave's rectum, I don't even want to cop a feel, and I just hold onto her body and wait to be driven to home and safety.

If I can be honest with myself, the experience with the blonde who could almost see me, Erica, has me shaken and I would really like the safety of home. The female biker smoothly and carefully pulls away from the gas station attached to the store and navigates us down streets she has no other reason to cruise, eventually pulling up to the curb in front of my house. I slide off, and without a word or look back she pulls off, revving the engine in an attempt to kick up the speed. I turn towards my house with a sigh, desiring nothing more than to be indoors.

Walking up the porch I feel my mother inside, waiting for me today as she has done every day since my power awakened. I turn the knob and push, letting the door silently slide open. Yesterday I had our neighbor Mr. Johns come over and give the homestead a through once over, repairing things as he saw fit 0 one of those things was the creaky door. I can smell the WD-40 that he applied liberally to the doorjamb. Mother greets me with a happy smile, naked, holding a glass of some unidentified juice.

"Hello dear!" mother says cheerfully. "Welcome home! How was your walk?"

If only she knew where my walk took me and what trouble I got myself into. These days she wouldn't blink an eye if I calmly replied that I caught a ride with a stranger and his wife, received road-head on the drive there from a woman I just met and would never see again, sodomized the store clerk in front of his customers when I got there and then hitched a ride back home, but I decide to keep the game going.

Smiling I reply "It was fine mother, I saw Dave at the store. Guess what?"

"What dear?" she asks, genuinely interested. She hands me the glass of juice and gestures for more information.

"Dave has met a nice girl." I say with a grin. I take a sip of my juice, much needed after the ride home. Mother smiles and replies a little jealously "Why can't you do that? You are such a catch." I calmly wrap my arms around my mother, allowing my growing erection to poke at her bare vagina through my sweatpants. Still holding her tenderly I whisper in her ear "Actually mother, I did meet someone."

She smiles even wider, exposing her perfect canine teeth. "Really? What is this someone's name?"

"Erica," I reply "She is a friend of Dave's. I think we hit it off." I release mother from my embrace and walk towards the dining room, smelling the aroma of meatloaf. "Mom, you made my favorite again? This is why you are the best." I say as I walk towards the table, noticing the four place settings.

Mother smiles at me, blushing. "Well honey, it is a special night. I invite our neighbors over for dinner, you know, Mr. and Mrs. Johns?"

I grin, remembering the last time I visited their house uninvited. "Yes mom, I remember. Isn't he the retired police officer?"

"That's right baby. They are coming over in.... Oh they'll be over in 5 minutes! I'd better get things ready."

I sit down in my normal seat, before an idea slowly creeps into my brain. Standing, I ask loudly "Is it just the two, Mom?" "Yes dear, their daughter is off at college. Penn state I think." Mother replies from the adjoining kitchen. 'Damn,' I think to myself. Mr. Johns' daughter is a stone cold fox with DD breasts, I would have liked to see and taste her again. Still standing near the table I step out of my sweatpants and remove my t-shirt, freeing my erection and feeling the freedom that comes with being comfortable in your own home. As my t-shirt hits the floor I hear a polite but firm knock at the door; our neighbors have arrived.

"I'll get it!" I say loudly, loud enough for mother and the guest at the door to hear. I walk quickly to the door, enjoying the feeling of my solid hard-on as it bounces in front of me. I open the door wide and see Mr. Johns, alone, holding a glass container with what looks like tuna casserole.

"Hello Mr. Johns, welcome. Your wife isn't coming?" I ask with a smile, my erection bouncing in time with my heartbeat.

Mr. Johns doesn't look down and with my suggestion, doesn't notice. Frowning he replies "No, she's... she's on her way over. She sent me ahead with this." Looking past my shoulder into the house he motions forward with the casserole, which I gladly accept. I step away from the door, clearing a space for him to enter. I stand close enough in the doorway for him to pass and flick my erection with his hip, the fabric of his jeans sending a shiver up my spine.

Mr. Johns inhales deeply through his nose as I close the door behind him. "Smells good in here, what's for dinner?"

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