Trigger Points

All the while, I was staring at his beautiful up curved cock, pointed straight at my mouth, and I realized he was right—I absolutely could not take my eyes off it. Half of me wanted to run out of the house, but my legs were so unsteady, I was afraid that I would simply fall over if I even tried to take a single step. Meanwhile, Jeff methodically undressed, pulling his shirt off the whipcord muscles of his chest.

"Right now, you are so sexed up you can barely stand on your feet . . . your resistance is almost gone . . . almost gone . . . and in just a minute, you're going to discover your darkest desire."

He stepped out of his jeans and stood before me naked and hard, and then with cruel intensity he said it, said the single word that changed everything between us.

"Kneel."

The word flew through the air and hit me like a physical punch in the gut. My breath left me in a single gasp. I was literally staggered. The image of that perfect symbol of surrender—a woman on her knees before an erect phallus—filled my mind. My arms were useless. The liquid heat in my pussy had descended to my thighs—my knees were literally trembling. But I managed to hold on. I stood there, in my ridiculous support bra and blue leather blazer, and took real pride in the fact that at that ultimate moment, I had the strength to remain on my feet.

But then he said it again.

"Kneel."

And the word hit me like second punch to exactly the same place. This time, there was no question of outcome; there was no choice to be made. My body was no longer under my command. I felt my knees give way, and I slowly lowered myself to ground in front of him. Without any further instruction, my mouth fell open.

Smiling, utterly confident, Jeff stepped forward and with his hand around the base of his cock, brushed it across my face. Fluid had gathered on the tip, and as he pressed his cock between my half-willing lips, I could taste the salt-sweet of his pre-cum. His cock glided over my tongue and I moaned, the sound stifled by the meat that was filling my mouth.

Releasing his hold on his cock, now that half of it was successfully buried between my lips, Jeff began to massage my head, his voice droning on. I was so far gone that I couldn't tell you now what words he said. I only remember that his fingers massaging my scalp and neck were like magic, that my pussy was pulsing in time with the massage, my tongue and finally my throat worked to pleasure him.

My son began a steady thrusting motion, pushing more and more of his cock into my mouth, stroking my neck when I gagged and coaxing me to take him further, until I felt him swelling inside of me. His thick meat cut off my airway as he began to cum, hot fluid gushing into my mouth until I swallowed convulsively, the taste of his cum coating my tongue. My pussy quivered as his fingers slid down my front to cup my breasts, pinching my nipples one more time, and I came as I swallowed him, my orgasm convulsing through my body as I sucked his cock, savoring the last of his juices.

V.

From that point on, as they say, resistance was futile. Jeff would trigger me, sometimes with his hands, sometimes with his cock, and do whatever he wanted. There was no pattern. Once an entire week went by without anything happening, and I almost came to believe it was over. Then he triggered me three times in a single day. On occasion he was satisfied with oral sex—he had trained me to take him all the way down my throat and for some cloudy reason I had come to crave the feeling of my nose buried in his pubic hair—but usually my legs were spread before he was done with me.

I noticed a curious thing; for some reason I could not begin to explain, whenever I was looking directly at Jeffrey's erect cock, I had to tell him anything he asked. There were no inhibitions, no internal censors, to edit my words. He took advantage of this profound weakness to explore every detail of my most personal experiences: How many lovers had I known? (Five.) Was I ever unfaithful to his father? (No.) Had I ever had sex with a woman? Did the idea intrigue me? Had I ever tried anal sex? (No. No. And absolutely not.)

The truth is I had gotten used to it, I accepted it, and in my darkest confession I must admit that I may have even come to require it. It wasn't merely that I came whenever he fucked me, or that my orgasms were insanely intense, unnaturally intense. It was what happened after I came, the experience I called the Float. I felt as if I was flying exactly one millimeter off the bed in a dreamy state that was not awake and not quite asleep. Jeff loved to talk to me then, but I knew that I could ignore him, pay no attention to his words; that the part of my mind that needed to hear him would listen and I didn't have to let anything disturb this moment of perfect pleasure. As I said, I had accepted it.

Then one day, the roof fell in on my whole life.

I remember that it was a Wednesday afternoon. A planned conference at work had been canceled at the last minute, and I found myself free for the afternoon. When I pulled into the driveway, I was surprised to see Zoe's car. She had told me that she was taking some private voice tutoring on Wednesdays. The house was silent. I knocked on Zoe's door to see if she was in her room. I thought I heard something, almost like Jeff's soft voice, and I opened the door. What I saw froze me solid. Zoe was seated bolt upright on a low backed chair. Her blouse was off, and she was wearing nothing from her waist up but a lace bra that had areola sized openings cut in the tip of each cup. Jeffrey was standing behind her, but his hands were in front of her breasts, and he was gently tugging on her swollen nipples and rolling them between his fingers. A candle was burning on the dresser immediately before her. What shocked me most was the look on Zoe's face. She looked like someone who had been left senseless by a drug. Her face was completely slack, with eyes that were open, but unfocused and vacant. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she was too weak to even close her mouth.

I thought, "Oh my God." Then, a fraction of a second later, came the sickening realization; if he had hypnotized her, he must have . . .

At that very moment, my eyes met Jeff's, and instead of seeing him react with alarm or embarrassment at what I had discovered, he only gave me a confident, knowing smile, as if he was ready to proudly display his achievement.

With an incoherent cry, I rushed out of Zoe's room. For perhaps a minute I paced the living room, dazed and unable to focus, trying to come up with some plan, some idea, something that would stop this insane perversion. When I saw Jeffrey enter the room, I immediately crossed my arms over my breasts.

"Jeffrey," I said, trying to keep as much control in my voice as possible, "I will not let you hypnotize me and if you make any attempt to do so I swear I will run out of this house screaming."

"Look! I understand how intense that kind of sex is, and I can imagine how exciting it is to wield that power over someone else. I succumbed to it as much as you. I admit that. But this is wrong! It's more than that—it's depraved! And it has got to stop. And it is going to stop!"

"Oh, Mom," he said, taking a step closer.

"No!" I warned. "I mean it, Jeffrey! I will not let you trigger me!"

Fearing his visual tricks, I foolishly turned my back to him.

"Oh Mother," he said from close behind me, "You don't even know what your most powerful trigger is."

And with those words he dragged a single finger along the valley between the cheeks of my ass. My breath left me—not with a cry but with an anguished moan. A wave of raw sex crashed over me, smashing my resistance like a castle of sand. He had never before demonstrated such total and effortless control—such dominance. All of the strength drained from my arms and legs. My hands, cupped defensively over my breasts, fell helplessly to my sides, leaving my nipples vulnerable to his skilled hands. But Jeff just kept stroking the valley of my buttocks. Then, after I was sufficiently weakened, he guided my defenseless body to the couch, and pushed me over the back.

A few more light strokes of his finger, and I would have slipped into trance, my will gone. He could have made me into a happy slave. Instead, Jeff reached around to undo my belt, and with a sharp tug pulled my slacks and panties over my hips. In my befuddled state, I sensed him fumbling with something behind me. Marshaling my last units of will power I desperately struggled to pull myself erect and twist free. Initially, Jeffrey just held me down with my hips, perhaps amused by my clumsy resistance. Then he triggered me again, with that same lovely stroke between the cheeks of my ass, but this time the weapon was his cock, a cock that was at once so hard and so velvety soft. It moved all the way from the tip of my clit down and through the cleft of my pussy—not penetrating it, not yet, just going deep enough to pick up the moisture—and then back over my other opening and finally through the silken cleavage of my ass. Back and forth, again and again, until I craved the coming invasion of my body, the final conquest of my sex.

"It was so easy, Mom," he said. "For you, relaxation meant relief from pain. It was very simple to train your subconscious mind to connect relaxation to pleasure—the greater the relaxation, the greater the pleasure; the greater the pleasure, the deeper the relaxation. Then, as I started to sex you up, the connection became more primal. The more you let go, the greater your arousal; the greater your arousal, the stronger your trance. Until it became the deeper your submission, the harder you would cum."

Controlling me by my hips, Jeff forced his cock into my depths with one deliberate stroke, and then held it there, not moving in or out, just rocking side to side. By now, every breath of mine was an incoherent moan.

"You reached the point where every time you came I put you into sex trance. And that's when I went to work, made some changes. Right now there are strings that go to your nipples, strings that go to your clit, and I hold them all. I can tug on them whenever I want. I can tease you, weaken you, whenever I want. I can make you a total slave. I can leave you half in control whenever I want a little resistance to break. Your mouth is mine anytime I want you to kneel. Your cunt is mine anytime I want to fuck. You are completely available for any sex act I desire."

He reached around my limp body, and grabbed my blouse and with one hard tug ripped it apart. My bra opened from the front, and in seconds it provided me no protection. Cupping my vulnerable breasts, Jeff pulled me upright, his knowing fingers doing their magic on my rigid nipples. He began to slowly, ever so slowly, fuck me.

"Do you want me to tell you about the other changes I made while your mind was like putty? Do you want me to tell you how much more exciting life is going to be? In a few seconds, you're going to cum. I'm going to make you cum. But you're not going to slip off into sex trance—no, not this time. You're going to stay with me and I am going to tell you what will become your greatest pleasure."

He pulled back my head so he could whisper in my left ear.

"I want you to imagine a beautiful woman. I want you to imagine that she is on her knees. And I want you to imagine that she is licking your clit while I am fucking you."

As he slowly fucked me, controlling me with my nipples and my pussy, that image seized control of my mind and became the most supremely erotic thought I had ever had—the perfect symmetry, her total submission to me combined with my surrender to him. This time my orgasm began in my clit and went to my breasts as I writhed helplessly and fell exhausted over the back of the couch.

I almost made it, almost slipped away into darkness, but Jeffrey caught me.

"Stay with me, Mother. Stay with me," he said. "I'm not done with you yet. There is one more thing I want to do to you. One more thing I want to teach you."

His still rigid cock went back to the long stroke—from my clit along the cleft of my pussy through the now lubricated valley of my ass, and back. I was struggling just to remain conscious when my mind and body both twisted as he pressed his cock into my anal opening. It was my last threshold, my symbolic maidenhead. I needed to resist—can you possibly understand that? I needed to resist him. At the same time, the sheer gut-taut pleasure of that penetration, the dark appeal of final submission, was rapidly pulling me downward. And Jeffrey, damn him to hell, kept me right on the razor's edge.

The knob of his cock was just inside of me; he could as easily slip in or out. He made no attempt to take control from me—he was waiting for me to give it to him.

"Do you want me to stop?" he said. "Do you want me to stop? I can stop if you want."

All the while my ass was loosening, lubricating, my body was demanding that he take me, that he rape me. But he wouldn't!

He just kept teasing, "Do you want me to stop? I will if you ask. Why don't I just stop?"

Then, God help me, he pulled away. He left me, bent over and spread, ready to be sodomized—his for the taking. He made me say it.

"Fuck me," I whispered. "Please just fuck me."

"Do what?" He said.

I moaned, "Fuck me, please."

"Fuck you where?" he said.

"God! Fuck my ass!" I shouted, "Fuck me all the way up my ass!"

On hearing those words, his own willpower broke, and he pounded into me, again and again, taking me like a bitch in heat.

"Now you are really going to cum, Mom. You are going to cum harder than you ever have. And after you do you will go into your deepest sex trance and I am going to make one last change in you."

He groaned as his cum jetted into my ass.

"When the time comes for me to fuck Zoe, you are going to be perfectly okay with it. In fact, you are going to help me. You are going to pin her arms above her head and hold her helpless while I fuck her until she cums and cums. Every orgasm will take her deeper. Every trance will take more of her will. And when I finally take her ass, you are going to lick her clit at the same time until she passes out."

That image and a massive orgasm tore through my body and mind at the same moment, shredding any restraints that remained. As I lapsed into unconsciousness, I knew that he was right. When the time came, I would give my mouth to my daughter. I would do it eagerly.