Mommy’s Hypnotic Discipline Chapter 2: Mommy’s Hypnotic Delight

Mommy’s Hypnotic Discipline

Chapter Two: Mommy’s Hypnotic Delight

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2018

Note: Thanks to WRC264 for beta reading this!

Anna Miller

“Shoot,” I cursed beneath my breath. I hadn’t considered my husband would feel guilty for punishing our daughter and fucking the little whore. “Mitch, look at me.”

He stood trembling in our kitchen, the cordless phone clutched in his hand. He was naked, a muscular man with short, sandy-blond hair. He looked horrified, his shoulders hunched, his limp cock glistening with our daughter’s virgin pussy cream.

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“Mitch, look at me,” I said in an even tone, playing with the amulet I wore around my neck, the red crystal dangling between my breasts, the light from it playing across his face.

“Yes, yes, I…” His words trailed off. He was on the phone with 911, turning himself in for “molesting” our daughter.

Valerie, our nineteen-year-old daughter, wasn’t molested. She was punished. I had to convince him. I had to calm him down. I thought I had hypnotized him to understand. He had done it just like I always fantasized. He had taken our daughter in hand, spanked her hard, then fucked her naughty cunt. If he didn’t, she would come home one day pregnant, knocked up by some pimple-faced boy. Valerie was so aware of her nubile body. She flaunted it around her father, using it to get herself out of trouble by turning him on.

I was shocked my husband would even feel guilty for taking what she offered.

“Sir, sir, are you still there?” the 911 operator said as he lowered the phone. His blue eyes became unfocused as he stared between my breasts. “Sir, what did you do with your daughter?”

“It’s okay,” I told my husband, his eyes locked on the amulet, on the little flaw in it. I spoke calm, clear, gentle. “Relax. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Hang up the phone and let’s talk.”

His thumb pressed the “end call” button, cutting off the 911 operator.

“That’s good,” I said. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. Disciplining your daughter is a good thing.”

“I… I…” His words came out slow, slurred. “I hurt her. I abused her.”

“No, no, you disciplined her. Remember. How should a slut be disciplined?”

“A slut has to be discipline with her father’s cock, or she will fuck every boy she can and wind up pregnant,” he repeated in a monotone.

“That’s right. And what is our daughter?”

“Valerie is a slut who must be disciplined,” he repeated.

“And after a slut is disciplined, what is she then?”

“A good girl,” he said.

“And what do good girls need?”

“Good girls need to be encouraged. Good girls need their daddy’s cum in their pussies.”

“So why did you call 911?” I asked him, moving closer, my naked breasts swaying. I reveled in this power. My husband was so strong, but he couldn’t resist the amulet. I just had to fix him, to make him into the perfect man who punished our little whore of a daughter. “Why did you feel so guilty you wanted to turn yourself in?”

“She’s my daughter,” he groaned. “It’s not right for a father to have sex with his daughter. It’s incest.”

“But what does a good girl need after accepting her spanking?”

“Good girls need to be encouraged,” he repeated again in the same cadence. “Good girls need their daddy’s cum in their pussies.”

“If good girls need their daddy’s cum in their pussies, it can’t be wrong, can it?”

His forehead furrowed.

“If good girls need their daddy’s cum in their pussies, it can’t be wrong. Right?”

“Well…” His finger twitched. I twisted the amulet, flashing more light across his face. “It’s illegal. It’s wrong.”

“Society doesn’t know what is best for my daughter, my wife knows,” I said. “Repeat.”

“Society doesn’t know what is best for my daughter, my wife knows,” he said.

“Again,” I said, shuddering as he repeated it. “Again.” His words came out in a droning flow. “Again.” I manipulated the amulet, watching his glossy eyes following it. My fingers gripped the bottom, rolling the pointed end between my fingers. “Again.”

After he repeated it ten times, I asked, “Is fucking your daughter wrong?”

“Yes,” he said.

“But I say it’s not. And who knows what’s best for our daughter?”

“Society doesn’t know what is best for my daughter, my wife knows,” he repeated, his eyes glossy, drool building at the corners of his lips.

“So if I say it’s okay for you to fuck our daughter, that she needs it to be a good girl, then should you feel guilty about it?”

He hesitated.

“Mitch, it’s okay to for you to fuck our daughter. She needs it to be a good girl. Should you feel guilty about it?”

“No,” he said slowly. His shoulders shifted. “Society doesn’t know what is best for my daughter, my wife knows.”

“That’s right,” I told him. “Punishing your daughter is right. Fucking your daughter to keep her being a good girl is right. Repeat.”

I wanted to make sure he understood. The serpentine-like reflection of light from the flaw in the amulet danced across his face. It splashed across his features as he said the words again and again. I smiled as he understood. My pussy grew wetter and wetter.

I covered the amulet. “Honey, do you feel better? Do you understand?”

My husband blinked, shaking his head. “Anna?”

“Do you feel bad about disciplining our daughter?” I asked.

“Well, no,” he said. “Society might say it’s wrong, but it’s what our daughter needs to be a good girl.”

I smiled, leaned forward, and kissed my husband. My pussy grew hotter. I wanted to keep disciplining Valerie. Her tongue felt amazing licking through my pussy. She put her mouth to good use for once, not giving me lip, not arguing with me, but giving me bliss. It was incredible. The way she moaned as her father fucked her. The way she squirmed.

She would still be bad. I put that in her, little things, just so Mitch and I could punish her.

So I could watch my husband spank our daughter, his muscles flexing as he smacked his hand down on her rump, making her ass red. I shuddered in delight. I wiggled my hips back and forth, feeling my husband’s cock hardening. He could fuck me, and then our whore-daughter would have something naughty to lick out of my pussy while she “apologized” to—

A loud knock pounded on the door.

I groaned. Right, Mitch called 911.

“Stay here, honey,” I said as I broke away. “I’ll take care of this.”

I turned around and passed through the dining room where our daughter sat, panting, looking dazed from her punishment. She glanced at me and stiffened. She wiped at her pussy-stained face, her light-brown hair swaying about her youthful face.

“Help your father with the dishes,” I told her. “I have to answer the door.”

“Yeah, Mom,” she said, no insolence. She wouldn’t be bad right away.

She rose and I shuddered at the sight of her red ass. It was a juicy rump, tight and firm and so spankable. I couldn’t help staring at her flaming rump as she gathered up the plates, bending over the table. Cum ran down her thighs and—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

I sighed and groaned. I left the dining room and crossed through the living room. I wasn’t afraid of the cop. I had the amulet. I held it in my hand. I twisted it. Played with it. My confidence swelled. I reached the door, opened it.

“Officer?” I asked as I stared at the woman at my door in the navy-blue uniform, her thick, black belt covered in all her police equipment. She had auburn hair pulled back into a tight bun, her face plain, a woman in her late thirties who didn’t bother with makeup. She had traces of her girlish beauty, still an attractive woman but not one who started herself up.

“Ma’am,” the cop said. Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you naked?”

“Oh, it’s my home,” I said, twisting the amulet, the light dancing across the cop’s face.

“We had an aborted 911 call from here,” the cop said, her hand on her gun. “A man claiming he molested his daughter.”

“Oh?” I asked. “It must have been my daughter and her friend. They are a naughty pair, especially my daughter.”

“Can I come in to talk to her?” the cop asked, her eyes falling on the amulet.

I kept twisting the amulet, turning it in my hand. “We’re talking right now, aren’t we? Isn’t it nice to talk to me?”

“I have to talk to… to the daughter. And to… to whoever called 911.” Her words were getting slurred. Her eyes struggled to stay focused. “It’s a… a crime… Need to…”

“Do you like my amulet?” I asked her.

She nodded her head.

I stepped back into my house, twisting it. the cop stumbled after, following it. Her hand slipped off her handgun. Her breasts rose and fell as I twisted the amulet back and forth. I loved it. No one could resist the amulet. The website was correct.

So many people thought it was a hoax, but it wasn’t. This was real. This was power. It didn’t matter how strong my husband was. It didn’t matter how rebellious my daughter was. I shuddered. It didn’t even matter how confident the cop was.

“Do you like my amulet?” I asked again.

“Pretty,” said the cop. “Something in there… A snake… Fiery snake…”

“Just keep looking at it,” I said. “Staring at it. It’s so pretty. Every time you look at it, you just relax your mind. You’re open to what I say. You know it’s true. My words are correct. They clear up any confusion. Right?”

“Your words are correct. They clear up any confusion.”

“Repeat,” I told her, twisting the amulet, loving her saying the words. Just like with my husband and daughter. “Repeat.” I shuddered as she said it. This cop was mine. I would fix this problem. She wouldn’t cause difficulties for my family.

Not when it was finally perfect.

“Mom?” my daughter asked.