The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Steve Anderson was sitting at the desk organizing some very personal photos, pictures of women’s feet in nylons crowed his browser as he was in the process of organizing photos and videos that made up his personal “spank bank,” ensuring they would be available on his personal cloud and that he’d be able to quickly some of his favorites for off line viewing.

He was deep in concentration with he heard the first rumble, the windows gently shook and lighting flashed…his convertible was sitting in the driveway with the top down and he leaped up and sprinted out of the office to his car just as the first drops of rain began to pour down….

Steve didn’t realize he’d forgotten to close his browser in his hurry to get to his car and he never saw his mother walk by the office and poke her head in and notice what was on the computer. After a few minutes of scrolling she shook her head, her son needed a gentle adjustment and Mommy was just the right person for this particular job.

Jane and Steve had just completed dinner, the two of them enjoying conversation as they shared the days events. Steve’s father ed away a few years earlier and he moved in with his mother both to save money and as a way of keeping an eye on her, she’d had a few dates following his fathers ing, but he worried that she’d never really give anyone else a chance and would spend the rest of her life alone.

Steve’s head felt soft and heavy, like it was filled with warm cotton after dinner sitting on the couch, the living room lights seemed to swim a little as he sank deeper into the cushions and he had the strangest suspicion that his Mom had slipped something into his dinner that working fast, slowing everything down, loosening every muscle, making his thoughts drift like they were underwater.

Jane sat at the far end of the couch, one leg drawn up, the soft blue lace of her dress riding high on her thigh. A glass of red wine rested loosely in her hand. Her nylon covered feet were already close to Steve, the soles warm and slightly flushed, toes flexing lazily as she watched him with that knowing little smile behind her glasses.

“There he is,” she murmured, voice low and amused. “My clever boy thought he was so careful… until he left the browser open this afternoon.”

Steve swallowed and tried to clear his head by shaking it side to side, only to feel an increase of vertigo as he looked at his mother helplessly as she shifted, bringing one foot closer until the soft pad of her sole brushed the outside of his knee. The was light, almost playful, but the second her skin touched his, a warm pulse of something heavier seemed to roll through him. His eyelids fluttered.

“Mmm… already floating, aren’t you?” she cooed. “Mommy’s special seasoning is working so nicely. Just look at those pretty eyes getting heavier…”

Before he could respond her toes curled, then slowly uncurled, stroking upward along his thigh with deliberate, lazy pressure. The scent of her skin was warm, faintly soapy, with that soft, familiar motherly note, and it drifted closer as she leaned in a little.

“You like looking at feet so much,” she whispered, flexing her toes right in front of him so he could see every line, every soft crease, the gentle arch. “So Mommy’s going to let you feel them… properly while Mommy’s nice warm fog keeps melting all your silly thoughts of resisting away…”

Her sole pressed more firmly against his leg, then slid higher, toes beginning a slow, rhythmic kneading motion. Each press sent another soft wave of heaviness rolling through his body and his arms began to feel too heavy to lift, his mind kept trying to form words to explain his case and failing.

Jane’s smile deepened as she watched him sink.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just float for Mommy, let those toes do all the talking…”

Her free foot ed the first, both soles now working in slow, hypnotic circles, toes curling and stroking, pressing, coaxing. The wine glass tilted slightly in her hand as she leaned back against the arm of the couch, completely at ease, completely in control.

“You’re going to learn just how powerful Mommy really is,” she said softly, almost lovingly. “And you’re going to love every second of it.”

“Mom what are you doing, please this is embarrassing you need to…”

Steve never got to complete the sentence as his voice drifted off because Jane’s toes never stopped their slow, deliberate work on him. One soft sole stayed pressed high on his thigh, flexing and kneading in lazy circles while the other slid inward, the warm pad of her foot settling firmly over the growing bulge in his pants. She pressed down just enough to feel him throb beneath the fabric, then began a gentle, rhythmic rocking motion with her toes.

“Ohhh look at that,” she cooed, voice syrupy sweet and full of wicked amusement. “Already so hard for Mommy’s feet… and we haven’t even really started yet.”

Her toes curled, gripping him through the material, stroking up and down with slow, teasing pressure. Every flex sent another warm pulse of the drug’s heaviness rolling through Steve’s body and his head tipped back against the cushion while his hands stayed limp at his sides. All he could do was breathe and feel.

Jane smiled, watching his hips give the tiniest helpless twitch.

“That’s it, baby… lean back and just take it. You’re not going anywhere tonight, that special little something in your dinner made sure of that.” She pressed a little harder, the ball of her foot grinding in slow circles while her toes kept flexing and stroking. “You’re going to make such a big mess for Mommy, aren’t you? All that pent up little boy lust just leaking out while you stare at these feet… they’re so pretty aren’t they dear?”

She lifted the foot that had been on his thigh and brought it closer to his face, toes spreading slowly so he could see every soft pad, every delicate line. The warm, faintly sweet scent of her skin drifted right under his nose as her other foot continued its steady, teasing work between his legs and much to his dismay, he responded to it.

“Go on… breathe it in,” she whispered. “Mommy’s toes are going to milk every drop out of you tonight. And all you can do is float there and get more and more worked up… more and more helpless…”

Her toes tightened around the thick outline of him again, squeezing and stroking in a hypnotic rhythm making Steve’s breathing grow heavier. His cock twitched hard under her sole and the fog in his head thickened with every of her foot.

Jane’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses as she felt her son’s cock throb.

“That’s my good boy. Just keep getting harder for Mommy… and get ready to make that big, messy little puddle right where you sit.”

Jane noticed the faint flicker in Steve’s eyes, a tiny stubborn attempt to surface, to focus, and push back against the warm fog rolling through his mind. Her smile only softened, almost fond as she seductively spoke…

“Ohhh… there it is,” she cooed, voice low and velvet smooth. “Trying so hard to think, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

She pressed the sole of her foot more firmly against the thick outline of his cock, her big toe moving in a slow, deliberate pattern that made his hips twitch helplessly. At the same time her other foot rose, warm in her stockings and settled lightly over his face, the soft toes brushing his lips, and the warm pad of her sole covering his eyes for just a moment, cutting off the light.

“Shhh… no more of that resistance.”

Her toes flexed gently against his mouth, the clean, faintly sweet scent of her skin filling every breath he took. The foot between his legs kept working him in that same relentless rhythm stroking, squeezing, grinding all while the one on his face stayed close, soft and heavy, smothering the last scraps of resistance.

“Mommy’s toes decide now,” she whispered. “No more fighting. No more focusing. Just the feel of these soft soles… the smell of Mommy’s feet… and that nice heavy fog melting every little protest away.”

She rocked her foot against his crotch a little harder, toes digging in with affectionate cruelty as she felt him throb and swell under the pressure. The foot on his face pressed a fraction more, toes sliding slowly across his lips and cheeks, keeping him pinned in place by nothing more than warm skin and the drug still flooding his system with pleasure.

“There we go… that’s better. All that resistance just slipping right out of you. Good boy.”

Jane leaned back against the arm of the couch, wine glass still loosely in hand, completely in control as both of her feet continued their slow, hypnotic work, one milking the growing mass between his legs, and the other gently but firmly shutting down his every last attempt to think.

She felt the sudden desperate throb under her toes and knew exactly what was about to happen. A slow, wicked smile curved her lips as she slid her foot deeper into his open pants, soft sole and warm toes wrapping fully around the hard, twitching length of him.

“Ohhh… there it is,” she cooed, voice thick with filthy affection. “Mommy’s dirty widdle boy is about to make such a mess all over these toes… aren’t you, baby?”

Her toes flexed, stroking him with slow, milking pressure, the ball of her foot grinding against the sensitive head while her other foot stayed close to his face, toes brushing his lips so every shaky breath was full of her scent.

“That’s it sweedy… just let it go, spill every drop for Mommy. Cover these pretty toes in that thick, sticky load you’ve been holding back while you stared at feet online… now you get the real thing. Mommy’s actual feet right here inside your pants, working you until you can’t hold it anymore.”

She squeezed tighter, toes curling and uncurling in a relentless rhythm, voice dropping into that soft, filthy that went straight to the last scraps of his control.

“Come on, sweetheart… paint Mommy’s pretty toes for her, make them all wet and shiny. Show me how much you love being milked by the woman who raised you. That’s it… good boy… just spill for Mommy…”

Steve’s body jerked as a broken sound left his throat and the orgasm tore through him, hot pulses of cum shooting over Jane’s toes and the soft sole of her foot still buried in his pants. She kept stroking him through every spurt, cooing softly the whole time, toes working him until the last thick ropes had painted her skin and the fabric of his underwear.

Only when he was finished and trembling did she slowly ease her foot free, lifting it so he could see the glossy mess coating her toes and the arch of her foot. She wiggled them slowly, letting the cum stretch and glisten between them.

“Mmm… look at that,” she murmured, voice warm and thoroughly satisfied. “Such a big, messy load… all over Mommy’s toes. And you’re still floating, aren’t you? Still so soft and open for me now…”

She brought the sticky foot a little closer to his face, toes still slowly flexing, the scent of sex and warm skin mixing with the faint sweetness that had been there before.

“We’re just getting started, baby. Mommy’s not nearly done with you yet.”

Steve was helpless, deeply hypnotized, humiliated and completely at his mother’s mercy, in his wildest dreams or nightmares he did not anticipate what was coming next, and he found he could do nothing to resist or stop his mother…

His mother with her cum slick foot and brought it slowly, deliberately against his lips, her toes flexing so a thin strand of cum stretched and then broke against his mouth a toe gently stroked the cum along his bottom lip.

“Open,” she said softly, the single word carrying absolute certainty.

Her other hand stayed relaxed around the wine glass. Jane didn’t need force, the drug and her hypnosis still held him heavy and obedient on the couch, and the aftershocks of his orgasm had left him soft and open. When his lips parted, she slid her toes gently inside, the warm, salty taste of his own cum coating his tongue as she pressed deeper.

“That’s it… good boy. Clean Mommy up.”

She rocked her foot slowly, toes curling against his tongue, the soft sole pressing against his mouth as she fed him every drop. The scent of sex and warm skin filled every breath he took. Her free foot rested possessively on his still sensitive cock, toes stroking him lazily while he licked and sucked the mess from her skin.

“Every last bit,” she cooed, voice low and filthy sweet. “You made this mess all over Mommy’s toes… now you’re going to swallow it like the good little foot slut you are. Taste how much you needed this. Taste how completely Mommy owns that pretty cock of yours now.”

She flexed her toes deeper, letting him clean between them, the soft pads pressing against his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Cum mixed with saliva as she slowly worked the foot in and out, watching his eyes stay glazed and distant.

“That’s my sweet boy… suck them clean. Get every drop because Mommy’s feet are going to stay right here until they’re spotless… and you’re going to stay right here, floating and obedient, while you do it.”

Her toes gave one more slow, deliberate curl against his tongue, the last of the mess disappearing as she held him in place with nothing more than the soft weight of her foot and the heavy fog still melting through his mind.

After a while, Jane slowly withdrew her now clean toes from his mouth, leaving a soft, lingering kiss of damp nylon against his lips. She set the wine glass aside, then rose from the couch with easy grace the light blue dress whispered around her thighs as she moved to sit beside him, gathering his heavy, floating body into her arms like he was still a little boy who needed comforting.

She pulled him against her chest, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other stroking slow circles between his shoulder blades. Her stocking feet tucked beneath her as she rocked him gently, the soft motion matching the residual fog still thick in his mind.

“Shhh… that’s it, baby,” she murmured against his hair, voice warm and low. “Mommy’s got you. Just rest now. Let everything stay soft and quiet…”

She rocked him a little deeper into the cushions, her body heat and the faint scent of her skin wrapping around him like a blanket calming him and pulling him even deeper.

“While you drift off… I want you to think about that fetish of yours. Really think about it… all those videos, all those pretty feet you stared at when you thought no one knew. Think about how much power they had over you… and how much more power Mommy’s feet have now.”

Her fingers traced slow, hypnotic patterns through his hair as she kept rocking.

“You’re going to sleep so deeply for me… and when you wake up in the morning, that little library of yours is going to feel… wrong, heavy, embarrassing. You’re going to open it up, and you’re going to delete every single video, every photo, every saved clip... All of it because the only feet that matter now are the ones that just milked you dry and made you clean them.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his temple, still rocking him in that gentle, relentless rhythm.

“Sleep, sweetheart. Sleep and let Mommy’s words sink all the way down… so deep you won’t even question them when the sun comes up.”

Steve’s breathing slowed. The last scraps of resistance melted into the warm weight of her arms and the steady rock of her body. Within minutes he was gone, deep, obedient, floating under the soft command of his mother’s voice.

Morning light filtered through the living room curtains and Steve woke alone on the couch, body still heavy, mind strangely quiet. The memory of the night sat in the back of his thoughts like a warm, undeniable weight. He reached for his phone almost without thinking, opened the private folder, and stared at the long list of foot videos and images he had carefully collected.

A low, uneasy heat crawled up the back of his neck.

One by one, without hesitation, he selected them all and hit delete.

When the folder was empty, he set the phone down and simply sat there, staring at the blank screen, the soft echo of his mother’s voice still somewhere deep in his mind… after all Mommy knew best.