Submissive Incest Mind Control Chapter 1: Naughty Daughter Spanked

Submissive Incest Mind Control

A Story of the Institute of Apotheosis Research

Chapter One: Naughty Daughter Spanked

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2018

Note: Thanks to wrc264 for beta reading this!

“We’re not angry with you,” my mother said, giving me a slight smile, “we’re just disappointed, Bess.”

“Disappointed?” I groaned. “That’s it? Disappointed?”

I glanced at my father’s car, the front end crumbled, radiator fluid forming a larger and larger puddle. I pushed up my glasses and then rubbed at the back of my neck. The tow truck beeped loudly as it backed up to the vehicle.

“That’s right, Bess, disappointed,” my father said while nodding.

He stood tall over me but his brown eyes stared at the wreckage of his car. He loved his Mustang. The cherry-red, sleek sports car held a prized place in our garage. Every Saturday he spent a good hour or two washing and waxing it, stroking the vehicle with all the care of a man caressing his lover.

“We’re just glad that you’re okay,” my father added.

My mother nodded, her light-brown hair spilling about her face. She put her arm around my shoulder, pulling me to her. I winced, my neck aching more from the violent impact. I couldn’t believe she was comforting me.

“You’re not going to punish me?” I demanded.

“Honey,” my mom sighed, shaking her head. Her green eyes focused on me. “What is going through your head these days?”

“That I wished my parents would be my parents?” I muttered.

“And how are we not your parents?” my father asked. He ran a hand through his black hair, the same shade as my own locks spilling down my face. “Because we don’t do something as hindering to your development as punishing you?”

“Yes!” What did it take to get them angry at me?

“You’re just going through a phase,” my mother said. “I was rebellious when I was eighteen, too.”

“Did you steal your father’s car?” I muttered.

“Steal?” my mother asked, amusement in your tone. “I’d hardly call what you did stealing, Bess. You’re part of the family. You borrowed your father’s car.”

I stared at her, shaking my head in shock. “I only have a learner’s permit. Dad never even teaches me in his Mustang.”

“Being curious and testing boundaries is a part of life,” my father said, quoting that dumb, hippy philosophy my parents subscribed to. “That’s all. You were just exploring your potential.” He let out a sigh. “And your potential is not in driving my car.”

“So… what are you going to do to me?” I asked, squirming in my mother’s embrace.

“Love you,” my mother said. “Perhaps we need to give you more attention.”

I ground my teeth together. “You need to punish me! I was bad! I wrecked Dad’s car! After I stole it.”

“What do you want us to do?” Dad asked, his brown eyes finally falling on me, puzzlement crossing his handsome face. “Spank you?”

“Yes!”

“My father spanked me,” my mother said, “and it didn’t do anything but make me resentful.”

“It’s cruel. Children shouldn’t be harmed by their parents,” my dad said. “Misbehavior is merely a cry out for attention.”

“And you must really want our attention.” My mom gave a smile. “We should have a family night tomorrow. We’ll go see a movie, have a nice dinner, and—”

I let out a shrieking groan. Nothing. There was nothing I could do to get my parents to punish me. To treat me like an actual daughter. I glanced over at my cousin Louisa, my partner in crime. She had been riding shotgun after I suggested we steal my father’s car and go cruising. I was eager to show off what we were driving.

Her parents, Aunt Georgia and Uncle Wayne, shouted at her like proper parents. She shrank between them, squirming and wilting beneath her mother’s angry tirade. The words weren’t clear, drowned out by the traffic streaming by on the road, but the anger was there. Louise would face actual consequences to her actions. They would make her do chores, or maybe even spank her.

I would love to be spanked.

I shook my head. How could Aunt Georgia and my mom be sisters? What went wrong with my mom? How had she infected my dad with her hippie nonsense? Children needed to be disciplined, dominated. They needed to be controlled or they would do dumb things.

Like me.

“Is this like when you borrowed my vibrator?” my mom asked. “Did you take your dad’s car so we’d punish you?”

“Yes!”

“See,” my father said, “this is what society does to people. It gives them horrible expectations. It’s brainwashed you to think we need to be authoritarian. It’s so confused you, kiddo. You don’t have to act this way. We love you.”

“So let’s go home, sweetheart.” My mom rubbed my arm. “We can get ice cream on the way home. Cold Stone’s on the way.”

Ice cream…? Ice cream…? My parents were insane. Poor Louisa was trembling. She had tears glistening on her cheeks. Her father was shouting at her now, standing over her, looking so handsome and strong, so powerful.

A naughty wave of heat washed through me for Uncle Wayne. My eighteen-year-old pussy clenched. Such dizzying lust spun through me. I swayed against my mother, wishing to be Louisa so badly. If my father was as strong as Uncle Wayne…

That would be so hot.

My phone beeped. My parents wouldn’t even take my phone away since they paid the bill. As my mother lead me to the family minivan, I swiped in my unlock pattern on the screen and tapped the notification, bringing up a long text message.

“What?” I muttered as I read:

CONGRATULATIONS Bess Atwater!!!

You have been chosen by our top team of researchers for our exciting new product! The Halo is the answer to all your life’s needs. Tired of your parents treating you more like a friend than their daughter? Tired of them not living up to your expectations?

Well you’re in luck. Our patented Halo mind control technology will allow you to take control of the people in your life and mold them to your wishes.

I know you are as excited as we by this amazing possibility. Out of all the billions of people in this world, we think you are one of the TWELVE lucky candidates to utilize this ground-breaking technology.

So congratulations and get ready to seize your new life!

Your package should arrive in moments by drone. Enjoy!

Sincerely,

Deidre Icke, Esq.

President of The Institute of Apotheosis Research

Mind control? Wouldn’t that be nice? To have real parents. Not ones who bought me ice cream after I wrecked a thirty-thousand car. Or after I was caught masturbating in the living room with Mom’s dildo. Or getting into my parents locked liqueur cabinet. Nothing I could do would get them mad at me. I tried so hard to be naughty.

I just wanted them to be strong and dominating. I yearned for it. Especially my father. I wanted them to punish me. To degrade and humiliate me when I was bad. It made me so wet. It had me masturbating furiously just thinking about it.

How wonderful would it be, to be spanked…?

Oh, I would love to be bent over my father’s knee and feel his hand falling on my rump. I wanted to feel his anger. To feel his punishment. I wanted the pain burning through my ass. To make me shudder.

I swiped away the crazy text message. Mind control… It didn’t exist. It would be wonderful to mold my parents…

I climbed into the back of the minivan, taking a seat. My eyes stared out the window. I caught my reflection, my narrow face wistful, my green eyes yearning. I rubbed my thighs together, my virgin pussy so wet, my panties getting soaked with my excitement. I wanted to squeeze my small breasts and pinch my large nipples.

I had bigger nipples than my cousin Louisa despite her larger breasts.

Father started up the minivan. He adjusted to mirror until I could see his eyes. They seemed to be smiling. “Let’s get you some ice cream, kiddo.”

Kiddo! He should call me pumpkin or sweetie or slut. He should be so angry. He should be growling, “When we get home, young lady, you’re going over my lap and feeling my hand on your bare bottom. I’ll make you understand why you don’t steal my car and wreck it! Then I’ll tie you up to your bed all night, shove your mother’s wand massager against your cunt, and leave you like that all night. You want my cock fucking your cunt, you’ll earn it, slut!”

I wanted to masturbate so badly. I squirmed and groaned as we drove down the street, my cheek pressed against the window, feeling the cool kiss of the window. My heart thudded beneath my chest, my nipples so hard against my bra. I rubbed my hands up and down my thigh. I so wanted to get home, get in my bedroom, and satiate my hot cunt.

Abuse my slutty pussy.

I would cry out so loud. I would say such obscene things. My father would hear and realize just how much of a whore I was. How he needed to Discipline me and make me his sweet daughter again. He’d have to be so strong, so dominate, a father, not a weak man who wanted to buy me ice cream for wrecking his car.

Only he wouldn’t do any of that. A year of masturbating and moaning and letting my parents know I pleasured myself had done nothing. My mother just gave me an understanding smile and my father pretended I didn’t do anything.

“It’s good that you’re pleasuring yourself, sweetheart,” she’d told me. “You shouldn’t let your desires bottle up. Do you want me to buy you any toys?”

It wasn’t right.

The closest I came to punishment today was suffering going to the Cold Stone Creamery and sitting with my parents eating ice cream like a child. While my pussy burned and itched. I couldn’t satiate myself. I was denied my own pleasure. I focused on that, trying to fantasize it was deliberate, that my father knew I had a hot cunt needing to be touched and punished me by denying me any chance of satiating myself.

But he had no idea that I needed to masturbate. I was sure if he did, he’d drive us home right now and give me all the privacy I needed to satiate myself.