Somnus Nox Series Mind-Control Erotica #2

You won’t believe what just happened. Grab a cold one, Jord, because it’s about to be good.

I nurse my coffee as I think over my conversation with my friend and colleague, Alex, from several days ago. Alex has been my ride-or-die since Somnus Nox got up and running, and the longer we’ve known each other, the harder our loyalty to one another grows.

And that is only shown by what Alex told me over the phone-and God, he’d been right. It had been good.

I fucked Nina, I recall his confession. She was… Hell, Jord, she was so pliant. So good. She was begging for me, every command working as we always hoped it would.

He’s been brave to test it out, risky, but goddamn inspiring, and the thought of Somnus Nox’s abilities hasn’t left my head since. Yes, we could expand into porn-goddamn, those sorts of videos would rack in millions of views-but I want my own snatch at the prize.

If Alex can reap benefits, then why not me? After all, it’s my bank account pushing Somnus into every phase, every development, and every experiment. Without me, there would be no Somnus Nox. That thought buries in my chest, building my ego to the height I damn well deserve.

Is it possible? Does it work? Alex could have experienced a fluke, a one-off advantage of a glitch. Too many things could still go wrong. Did I dare even think about trying it, too?

If Alex can fuck his daughter, then who’s to say I can’t reap the same benefits?

I grin to myself as I pull out my phone and open the Somnus app. I tap through the homepage and navigate to the page that requests all the data of the person being put under the app’s command.

The tweaks have been programmed. Alex’s recount of his evening with Nina also included feedback for the app-that her heartbeat nearly brought her out of the sleeping state. It made sense when he told me that one app can’t control every different person’s internal biology and brain chemistry. I’d begun working with him immediately on a tweak where we added data input-weight, height, medical issues, and any other diagnosis that might make someone less susceptible.

I scroll through the list of required data, my thoughts churning. Everything I want is within reach, and now that I’m faced with it, I can’t help but feel a thrill.

I’m not the only one with my perverted thoughts. Mine and Alex’s secrets are tangled, intertwined with loyalty and trust between us. Hey, man, I want to talk to you about something, and I sure as shit don’t think I can tell anyone else. But you’ll get it, Alex, you’ll get it. I’d told him that at a bar in downtown Brooklyn months ago, just after Christmas.

I knew it then.

My daughter, Layla, had come trotting down the stairs in heels tall enough to break her ankles if she stumbled once, her lithe legs and muscled thighs shaped perfectly. She’d worn a pink elf-style dress with white fur lining the neckline and cuffs of her sleeves. The dress had been from the year before and had hugged her bustier figure. Her chest had pushed at the gaudy large red buttons decorating the front of the dress, and I’d gotten so drunk that year at Christmas that I couldn’t see straight-couldn’t see her.

But my daughter has remained in my mind ever since, the way her ass had bounced perkily as she spun in that damn Christmas dress.

It’d festered in my head ever since. Her name has been falling from my lips every time I jerk off.

I push a hand through my dark hair, messing it up before I hurriedly fix it.

Just one taste, I tell myself. Just one, and then I can go back to normal. I’ll go fuck my wife and tell myself I’m content.

I try to ignore the question in my head: will it be enough? Will just one taste of my own daughter be enough? She has burrowed into my dreams and my desires, and I can’t help but go feral at even the thought of seeing her every day.

I look up from my app to see the door ahead swinging open, and Layla’s face appears in my vision. My stomach clenches as I ease a grin onto my face and wave.

“Dad?” Layla asks when she gets into the car, throwing her bag to the floor in the front passenger seat. “I thought Mom was picking me up today.”

“Backseat,” I tell her as she goes to get in. “You know the rules. Mom’s busy with your brother.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. You want to tell your twenty-year-old daughter to sit up in the back like a kid? Nah, Dad, c’mon.”

“When’d you get so backchatty?” I ask, laughing, as I pull away from the curb and drive towards my house-the Greene house, where we’re a normal family, and nobody knows the darkness that festers in my head.

“Since I picked up books,” Layla mutters. “Actually, since you taught me how to pick up a book and read.”

“That I did.”

She goes quiet for a moment, and I can’t help but glance sideways at her, taking in the short dress she wears for college, the very reason I usually delegate her to the backseat, so I can resist my urges. She has tons of these things-thin wool, collared clothes, that I’ve paid for her whole life. She wears tights beneath, and for a moment, all I can think of is ripping those pesky things to get to her skin.

The camel-colored dress hugs her figure as she puts her seatbelt on. I clear my throat and swallow.

“I got you into college, didn’t I?” I pick back up on the teasing. “My cleverest girl.”

“I got my dad’s brains.” She flashes me a grin, fixing her dark curls that tumble down her chest.

“Yeah, you did, baby.” I smile at her as I continue to our house, my thoughts drifting back to the app still open on my phone, face-down on my thigh. I can’t help but wonder if she’s gained a little weight lately with all the pizza-study sessions she’s been doing with her ‘fave gal pal’ or whatever name she pretends to call the boy she’s been seeing.

“I was just kidding at being surprised, by the way,” she said. “You know I love it when you pick me up. Before Mom’s… hecticness kicks in back at home, I like this alone time, just me and you. Thanks, Dad.”

I love the time we get, I think as I nod at her. And I’m sure I’ll love the sexy alone time we’re about to have.

“No problem, Layla. You wanna grab a burger or something on the way home?”

She snorts, a sound she thinks is ugly, but I love it. “Yeah, especially if you’re cooking tonight.”

“Hey.” My tone is sharp enough to have her quieten into obedience, biting her lip. The chastised look goes right to my cock, and I breathe deeply, trying to compose myself. “Anyway, how was college today?”

“It was good,” she answers. “And yeah, to burgers, for real. I have my thesis to start planning for.”

I notice her watching me as I turn the wheel with my palm, effortlessly sliding us into the lane to pull off for the burger joint I always take her to, our own place, away from everything else. Her eyes quickly avert when I catch her.

“What subject did you pick? I want to know what my smart girl is doing with her time.”

She loosens a laugh that has my dick jerking once again. “God, you’re so nosey. It’s like you think I’m not studying or something.”

I give her a long look, but she rolls her eyes. “Again, I’m twenty, Dad. I can do whatever I want.”

“You damn well can,” I agree, my voice softer.

And then Layla launches into a rundown of her thesis, and for a moment, I’m struck by my little girl, whom I took to the library on the weekend, grown into a woman set to graduate college in another year or so. For a second, I want to tear off her glasses, bend her right over the desk she works from home, and try the app.

But no, not yet.

Instead, I pull into the burger joint.

It’s all going to be okay, Layla. You’ll see what Dad can do for you.

***

After the burgers are finished, Layla sucks grease off her fingers, and I can’t look away quick enough. We drop off the trash soon after on our way back to the car and head home.

“Wait, let me put my bag in the back,” she says, snatching up her bag before leaning to drop it into the back.

As her shoulder brushes mine, her scent envelopes me. Vanilla and caramel, a smooth mix of decadence that I can’t help my mouth watering at. I swallow back a groan and look skyward. I should have let her mom pick her up; if so, I could keep my composure for another hour or so.

Instead, my mind swerves to the app, even as guilt gnaws me.

I know there and then, when I feel her fingers grip my shoulder as she shifts to grab something from her bag before she leaves it in the backseat, that I’m going to use the app. Her dress shifts higher, and I get a flash of black panties.

How do I do this? I think. The app prompts either mind control of wakefulness or slumber. I want my girl’s eyes open on me when I pleasure her, but… having her sleeping will be less messy.

“Fuck, those burgers were filling.”

She groans, tugging at her dress.

“Language,” I tell her.

Layla laughs, her sweetness dropping for a moment as she looks at me. I take my eyes off the road for a second, and it’s enough to send me reeling. “Your mouth is dirtier than mine. Don’t play.”

I’m utterly undone by her statement.

I’ll show you how dirty it can be, I promise to her mentally.

As she rights herself in the front seat, I click the option for mind-control sleeping and slide the pair of earbuds I’d prepared for her out of my jeans pocket.

Layla misses nothing. Of course not. “Woah, are those the new model?”

“Yup,” I lie easily. “Want a go? We’re not releasing them yet, but you can be the first to try them.” Her eyes widen excitedly, and she eats my lie up so easily as she reaches for the earbuds. “Here, let me queue up this song for you to listen to and try them out.”

Her hand brushes mine as she takes them from me and places the earbuds into her ears. She settles back in her seat, a small smile on her lips. “All right, I’m good to go.”

“Yes, you are,” I whisper. I press play on the popular song I’ve prepared for her to listen to. The music sounds normal to unsuspecting ears, but it is embedded with Somnus’s mind control waves. Her brain signals will pick it up, and soon, she’ll be asleep in my passenger seat, utterly at my mercy.

I smirk, looking at the road as I get nearer to home.

“Woah, Dad, I know this song,” she laughs, her voice rising over the song in her ears. “I didn’t know you were hip.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I mutter, knowing she can’t hear me. Louder, I say, “just enjoy it, baby.”

Gradually, her eyes begin to slip closed, getting heavier and heavier. I watch her at every red stoplight, the excitement in my gut growing and growing. Her hands drop to her sides, her body slumping in the seat as her entire being succumbs to the effect.

Alex told me that the effects of Somnus Nox’s control lasts for an hour. He’d conducted a whole experiment period with field tests, and then again since his involvement with Nina. However, that was only on sedentary targets, willing subjects wanting to be paid to undergo the control. Girls with bright eyes and nervous giggles, and men trying to contain erections-all of them, erotic at the thought, without even being there for sexual purposes.