The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 03

My daughter left her legs spread as I lay her back, and I slid between them until our bodies touched from lips to pussies. As our kiss intensified, I slowly undulated my hips and ground my pussy against hers. Although it felt good to press against my daughter like that, there wasn't enough of the delicious friction on our clits we'd both need to get off.

So, swinging my thigh over hers, I pushed it firmly against Kristy's clitoris and gently moved my thigh up and down.

Kristy's fingers were entwined in my gorgeous locks as she held me lovingly. But when she felt my thigh rub on her clit, she broke our long, sensual kiss to tilt her head back and moan. Then feeling my hot, wet slit pressed against her thigh, she convulsively lifted her leg and pressed it firmly against my thick clitoris before moving her leg up and down.

It was my turn to moan into my daughter's mouth, and shuddering, I felt my climax swiftly approaching. I wanted Kristy to orgasm before me, though. So I slid my hand between us and fingered her hard, chunky button. Then moving my fingers lower, I spun my finger around Kristy's entrance as I'd seen her do and thumbed her clitoris.

"Oh, Mom," My daughter sighed. Then she arched back and pushed her sweet little pussy hard against my hand as her muscles spasmed holding her stiff, and she groaned gutturally through a tremendous orgasm.

Shuddering as her muscles relaxed, Kristy sank onto the bed and opened her eyes. Staring at me languorously with subdued passion, she smiled and said, "Wow, Mom! That was so intense! What can I do to make you good?"

"The same as the other day," I pleaded. What I really wanted, however, was to take her head in my hands and guide her mouth onto my wanting pussy.

Smiling gently, Kristy rolled me off her onto my back, then knelt between my sexily spread, shapely thighs. Kristy pressed her rounded breasts on mine, then kissed my lips softly before shifting to kneeling. Then, using her left hand's thumb, she pulled my clit hood back. I moaned, anticipating Kristy would lower her mouth onto it. However, she circled it with her other hand's index finger instead. I wasn't disappointed, though, because her finger felt fantastic on my engorged clit.

Slowly, maddeningly, Kristy circled my button as she held my thick clit exposed. Fascinatedly watching her, I felt my hips rise to push against her maddening finger. "Please, Kristy," I groaned, although what I pleaded for was unclear. Feeling her power over me, Kristy grinned and continued to slowly circle my clit. The feeling was intense and overpowering and too much for my submissive nature. Only aware of the sublimely delicious friction on my button, my head rocked back, and my body lifted off the bed as I arched my pussy up at my daughter's finger, I opened my mouth and pleaded, "Please, Mistress, may I cum?"

My daughter's eyes widened when she heard me plead, 'Mistress', but she swiftly chose to play the game. "Tell me what you are first." Your submissive slut, Mistress. It was all I could do to hold my climax in abeyance at that stage. "Then cum for me, my little Mommie slut," Kristy demanded, and I howled my orgasm to the heavens.

I woke some hours later feeling relaxed and in control of my mind. My need to pee had woken me up, so I slid out of bed and took care of it. After washing my hands, I returned to bed. Looking down at my beautiful sleeping daughter, who had rolled onto her back with her legs and arms wide apart, I smiled happily, snuggled into her side and fell asleep, cupping her breast as I did.

Kristy's soft snores woke me, so I tickled her ribs and kissed her lips. "Wake up, honey. You need to get ready for uni."

Stretching and yawning, Kristy playfully flicked my nipple, then said, "Spoilsport! I was having such a nice dream, too."

"Oh?" I teased back. "It was about a boy, then?"

Blushing guiltily, she admitted it was but wouldn't say who, so it was more than likely her father. Of course, given my activities with her brother, I was in no place to criticise or judge, so I smiled and left it there.

I wanted to remain in bed admiring my daughter's gorgeous young body as she longingly returned my gaze until we could stand looking only no more and made love again. But unfortunately, we both had places to be. Her to uni, and me to my feared appointment with Edgar Fontaine and his wicked receptionist.

Putting my house coat on, I went to the kitchen to make Kristy and me breakfast. We sat together eating, and then she kissed my cheek and jumped into her eighteenth birthday present, a brand new Fiat 500 Abarth, and left. Johnny would be at training, so I had to fret about my upcoming appointment alone the whole morning.

Although I often am, I don't like being alone because I worry. And it seemed like I had a lot to worry about this morning. Edgar Fontaine being one. Frank Pritchard and what he had planned for me on Friday another. Plus, I was juggling two illicit incestuous affairs with my children while hiding them from their father and each other. And I had another plan to bring to fruition, but the characters in that plan were currently unaware of my schemes.

I sat at the table, almost frozen by my fears and worries until my alarm went off, telling me it was time to dress to go to Edgar's clinic. I struggled against Edgar's planted instruction to return, but it was fruitless. Almost an automaton, I stood, went upstairs, showered and then sat at the vanity to do my hair and makeup.

The implanted suggestions meant I did my look way more aggressively than usual. Typically, my makeup is understated. With my light brown skin and dark brown eyes, I don't need much makeup to look good. Today, however, I'd darkened my cheekbone line, added eyeshadow from white in the inner corner to dark brown on the outer, and shaped my eyebrows with the eyebrow pencil until they arched as high as possible without shaving them off and drawing them on my forehead. I'd used mascara on my lashes until they arced close to an inch from my lids and used vibrant red lipstick to paint my lips. I'd also drawn my lip line so wide that they made my already pouty lips look almost comically Pamela Anderson-like plump.

I'd gathered all the hair from the right side of my face and neck and held it over my ear on the right side with clips. That did look good, I'll admit because it exposed my sexily long neck. Done with my hair and makeup, I opened my robe, took out my red micro-mini and white, see-through button-up blouse, and placed them on the bed. Opening my drawer, I selected my black suspender belt and matching stockings. I put those on first and then pulled on my micro-mini. Sliding my arms inside my blouse's sleeves, I did up only the middle button before tying the shirt ends in a knot under my breasts. The final addition to my look was a pair of black 7-inch strappy platform shoes with stiletto heels.

I checked in the mirror and was horrified. I looked like a Hollywood movie depiction of a street-walking prostitute. The bottom of my skirt was nowhere near the top of my stockings, and the suspenders and lack of a panty line screamed that I was naked under the skirt. I'd automatically tied the blouse to accentuate my gorgeously firm large breasts, and my nipples showed through the thin material. This was an outfit that I'd wear to tease my husband. I'd put it on just before he was due home from work and let him 'catch me' like this as I was bent over vacuuming. Never would I wear it outside the house. My makeup emphasised my 'whore' look, and the way I'd done my hair no longer seemed sexy to me. It looked slutty instead.

Although I'll admit that I dress provocatively, I do not ever dress sluttily. My typical look exudes a dark, brooding sensuality. And although it often appears that I will burst out of my outfit at any moment and display my body's wares for all to see, I never actually reveal a thing. Everything is suggestion. My outfits appear as if you would see my nipples if you could only stand at the correct angle, or if you got just a little lower, you could peer up my skirt and see my wet slit. But none of that is true. My father would have hammered my sorry ass if he caught me displaying myself for all to see, and my husband would correct me every day for a week if he saw me doing it.

What I had on showed my nipples blatantly. Anyone closer than a couple of hundred metres away would see them sway and bounce as I walked. My skirt was so short that I couldn't bend over as my ass and pussy would show, and my whole vulva was exposed no matter how I sat.

My phone alarmed again, telling me it was time to get in my car and go to my appointment, so I had no choice but to put aside my dress concerns and leave. I vaguely wondered who had set the alarms as I walked to my car because I couldn't recall doing it.

I drove to the clinic in a daze, and when I arrived, I couldn't remember any of the journey. Trembling as I fought to get back in my car and go home, I didn't move from where I stood for quite some time. But eventually, Edgar's conditioning took over, and I reluctantly walked into the clinic.

"Welcome back, Ms Muggleton," Liz said brightly, her eyes gleaming predatorily. "How have you been? Been keeping off those nasty cigarettes?"

I glared at her and remained silent.

Liz watched me silently with an amused smile on her face. But at my continued resistance, she slapped her hands together and barked, "Katie! Sluts like you answer their betters immediately. Now kneel and kiss my feet before I decide to make you strip naked and walk home."

"There's no need for that, Ms Donnelly," Edgar urbanely said, gazing down at where I knelt. "I'm sure that Katie will happily answer our questions if we ask politely. And I'm sure she has many of her own."

Glaring at the therapist, Liz muttered, "I did ask politely," but then she took a deep breath and returned to smiling brightly.

Turning back to me, Edgar politely said, "Follow me, Katie. It is still Katie, isn't it? We haven't returned to formality?"

I wanted to scream obscenities at him. I was screaming them in my head. I longed to rake my nails down his face and ram my knee into his balls, but I did none of these things. Instead, I followed him to his office, reclined on his counselling couch, and politely answered, "Katie is fine, Edgar."

"We need to clear some things up first, Katie. Then we can put you under and work on the next stage of your recovery from nicotine addiction. So let's begin with: Have you had a smoke since our previous appointment?" Yes. How many? Half of one, twice. "I'm unclear on what you mean, Katie. You mean you've smoked one cigarette?" Yes, over two times. "Ahh, I see. You lit a fag up, smoked half of it, put it out, then later, lit it a second time?" Yes. "That's impressive, Katie. Well done. After their first session, most struggle to last until the end of the day before lighting up again. I'm especially pleased that after partaking in a cigarette, you managed to stop at only half a cigarette both times.

"As I thought, your submissive nature has allowed me to plant the smoking prohibition much deeper in you much sooner than most. Yes, indeed, your recovery from your nicotine addiction will be swift, Katie. You must be overjoyed, as I'm sure your family will be, too.

"Now, Katie. Let's move on to your questions. I'm sure you have plenty, so feel free to speak openly. However, for my safety, you will remain unable to move from the couch. Nor will you be able to shout. Especially not for help. So, Katie, other than those restrictions, feel free to speak your mind."

Gritting my teeth so I didn't yell at him as I so desperately wanted to do, I asked, "First, why did you make me have sex with your receptionist? I am not a lesbian or even bisexual, so why make me do that? Second, if you can do that to me so readily, why didn't you take me, too? And third, you sick, perverted individual, why, on God's green earth, did you make me have sex with my son and daughter?"

Edgar answered me with a self-satisfied grin, "I'll answer your second question first, Katie. As you crudely put it, I didn't 'take you' because I'm gay and have no interest in your overt charms. To answer your first and third questions, I did not 'make' you do anything. A hypnotist cannot 'make' anyone do anything they are not innately willing to do. I can see from your expression that you don't believe me, so let me give you a demonstration." He pressed the intercom button and said, "Come to my rooms, please, Ms Donnelly."

A few seconds late, Liz opened the door and entered.

"Mrs Muggleton seems under the misapprehension that I can make her do something her moral compass would not usually allow, Liz. Are you willing to be the actress in my demonstration that I cannot?"

"Of course, Edgar," Liz said as she looked at me knowingly.

Edgar turned to me as he took out his pendant. "Katie, I will put you under, then, keeping you under my spell, I will make you aware of everything happening around you. As is usual when you're under hypnosis, you will obey all of my suggestions, including the ones your conscience will not typically allow you to do. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Edgar," I said in a monotone, my eyes already closing as they followed the slowly swinging pendant. A few seconds, many hours, I don't know, later, I heard, "Open your eyes, Katie. You will remain in a deep hypnotic state but are able to hear and react to everything happening around you. Do you understand?" Yes, Edgar. "I will now demonstrate that I am unable to 'make' you do anything you are not capable of doing at your core. Is that clear, Katie? Yes, Edgar. First, I will demonstrate some of the silly things I can make you do, even though they would typically embarrass you. Okay?" Yes, Edgar. "Hop up and down and make your big titties bounce, Katie."

I instantly lifted my left leg off the ground and hopped on the spot. As requested, I also lifted and dropped my shoulders in time with my hop to ensure my breasts achieved their maximum bounce. Edgar took me through several equally silly but harmless actions. Never once did I try to refuse or demure. I simply moved from one action to another immediately after he suggested it.

"Let me demonstrate something slightly more extreme, but you'd still readily do. When I say 'moo', I want you to immediately get on your hands and knees, chew your cud as a cow does, and make mooing noises." Amazed, I saw and felt myself complying, even though it was embarrassing and unwittingly matched with what my husband had kidded me about.

"Walk and quack like a duck." I did. "You're a mouse just discovered by the farmer's wife. What will you do?" I scurried towards the couch and tried to slip under it to hide myself. Before I could get there, Edgar said, "Enough. Katie, stand and relax." I did as asked. "So those were some of a stage hypnotist's typical parlour tricks. Let's move to things that you might do in the right circumstances, okay?" Yes, Edgar. "Tell me what you think of Ms Donnelly."

I remained silent because I would never insult or belittle another in front of someone I didn't consider a close friend. "Katie, I can control what you do. You said so, do you remember? Tell me what you think of Ms Donnelly." I shook my head and remained silent. "Who is your best friend, Katie? The one you talk to about everything. Your closest confidant?" Kath Loughlin. "Close your eyes for a moment, and when you open them, you'll sit with her in your lounge and tell her about Liz Donnelly."

When I opened my eyes, I saw Kath sitting on our lounge as I paced up and down, ranting about Edgar's bitch receptionist. "I'm telling you, Kath! The woman has a pair of knockers the size of cow udders. If the bitch fell on her face, she'd bounce straight back up off those gigantic things."

"Enough, Katie," Edgar crooned. "Are you starting to see my point?" I didn't want to have to admit to myself I'd done the things I'd done because I wanted to and not because Edgar had forced me to do them, so I shook my head. "Let me give one more extreme example of hypnosis's limitations, okay?" Yes, Edgar. "Katie, strip!" Edgar commanded in a deep baritone voice. Unhesitatingly, I dropped my micro-mini and peeled my top off before tossing it aside. "Now march out into the reception area, across the foyer and out onto the road."

I didn't move, of course, because that is something I would never do. In private quarters, with my husband, children or even close friends, I didn't mind being naked because, after all, that is our natural state. For my husband, I will strut naked any time he wishes. And with close friends, I'll use a hot tub naked or go skinny-dipping. Therefore, taking my clothes off in front of Edgar and Liz was something in the right circumstances I would naturally do. But I'd never expose myself publicly.

Chuckling, Edgar said, "You can no longer argue that I 'made' you do anything, Ms Katie. But, to drive my point home, let us try something sexual. Do you find Liz sexually attractive?" I wanted to deny it, but her massive melons had me quite hot, and I wanted to see and play with them. However, I didn't want to admit that, so I quickly shook my head. "Come now, Katie," Edgar chuckled. "You shake no, but your actions say yes (I was biting my bottom lip.). You cannot lie under hypnosis, Katie. Not unless your natural state is to be an incorrigible liar. So, I ask, "Do you find Ms Donnelly attractive?" Unwillingly, I nodded my head.

"Good girl. Now we can begin your second session. However, you look very sexy in nothing but a suspender, stockings and heels, Katie, and I know Liz enjoys looking at you naked, so lay back on the couch, and we'll get started." When I lay down, Edgar said, "Sleep," and I remembered nothing more.

Time passed, and I heard, "Three." Opening my eyes, I noticed the same 'used and dirty' feeling as last time. Worried, I touched my pussy. Thankfully, it didn't seem that anyone had cum in me, but it did feel swollen and a little gaped. "You may dress and go home, Katie." Then he grinned, "Unless you'd prefer to drive home naked?" I shook my head and swiftly donned what little clothes I had.

"The session went exceptionally well, Katie," Edgar informed me as I dressed. "I'm ecstatic with the results and believe we've achieved a significant breakthrough in your recovery from your addiction. In fact, I'm so confident of your recovery that I believe our next session will be the last we need. However, I'd like the right to bring you in for check-ups occasionally, Katie. Just a quick hello, slut. How are you, slut? Still off the ciggies, slut? Still eating pussy and sucking cock, slut?"

On my knees, I gasped. ... Flicker: image: Standing behind Liz, cupping her gigantic watermelon breasts as I nuzzle her neck. ...My left hand flew onto my rock-hard nipples as my ... Flicker: image: Liz hums ecstatically as I undo her buttons and pull her straining, white see-through blouse off her shapely shoulders and slide my hands inside her bra. ... right delved between my lasciviously splayed thighs and exposed my ... Flicker: image: Nipping Liz's right ear as I blow gently into her ear, I roll her big nipples between my thumb and forefinger ... wet slit to Edgar and Liz. I thrust two fingers inside my cunt and thumbed my cum button, then collapsed to the floor as an explosive climax racked my body.

As Liz and Edgar chuckled, I struggled to my feet, dressed, then gathered as much dignity around me as possible and walked to my car. I avoided looking at my eyes in the mirror while waiting for my trembles to cease before risking the drive home. But my conscience, once again using my mother's voice, said, "Well done you! First, you get yourself pregnant by the first guy to ever put his cock in you. Somehow, that works out, and you raise a fine family in a loving environment.