AUTHOR: T. A. BEAU

TITLE: My Daughter Puts Herself Under Mind-Control So I Can Fuck Her Guilt-Free #6

SUBTITLE: A DUBCON, Mind Control, DAD/Daughter Erotica Short Story with mind control/somno, breeding, anal fisting, toys.

Copyright © 2025 T. A. BEAU

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.

WORD COUNT: 6400 words

Somnus Nox Series Mind-Control Erotica #6

“Congratulations, Connor!” a girl’s voice calls out through my back garden.

“Gracie, you made it!” Connor, my youngest son, shouts back, laughing. He’s over by the wooden bar set up near the pool, surrounded by a group of girls all hanging off him. This Gracie, another girl in my son’s never-ending entourage of conquests, sidles her way over.

“Ugh.” I turn at the disgusted scoff of my eldest. Hannah Cartwell-the very reason for my damn hard on hidden behind the barbecue I’m working for my son’s graduation party. “He’s a man whore. I can’t believe I have to acknowledge that my baby brother is… that.”

“You’ve been bothering me for nearly twenty minutes,” I tell her, waving a spatula. “Don’t you want to go bother your mom?”

Hannah raises a brow at me, stepping closer. I stiffen-not at not wanting her closeness, but at the effect she has on me. The effect she knows full well about.

“Depends,” she answers, her tongue peeking against her teeth arrogantly. “Maybe I want quality time with my dad.”

“Yeah?” I ask her, my voice rough. Christ, could I get any harder?

“Yeah,” she murmurs, stepping close that she’s almost leaning over the grill with me. From afar, she might look like she’s inspecting the food with me. But nobody from afar will see the look in her eyes. Sultry, dark, teasing. Her long lashes brush her freckles as she blinks. “After all, you still haven’t complimented my outfit. And to think I went all out for my brother’s grad party.”

“Hannah.” My voice is tight as she presses her hips closer. “Move.”

“Why?” she all but purrs.

Hell, this is wrong, I think desperately. My jaw clenches, as I flip a burger that’s charred from my distraction.

“I could have sworn you were looking. Surely my dad has an opinion? Don’t you think the shorts are a little too… tight?”

I swallow, forcing my attention on the burger. Humiliatingly, my cheeks burn. She brushes her crotch against me as she reaches around me, bending down-only to level her face with my own crotch. It’s close enough that she will see my hard on. And when my daughter laughs, I feel her breath through the material of my pants.

I bite back a growl.

“You have quite a situation, Daddy.” She all but giggles, standing again, holding some of the dirty utensils. “Gotta take these back to the kitchen.” She winks as she saunters away-and that is how it’s been all evening. Getting too close, taunting me, her words dripping with tease and seduction, only to withdraw suddenly. It’s the sort of push-and-pull Connor has complained about through college.

I can never tell him that his own sister does the same to his dad.

No, I think. I can’t let her get away with it. I have to put a stop to this. Hannah can’t keep doing this to me, expecting me to keep my composure and control. My wife, Lauren, is mere feet away, her eyes meeting mine across the garden. She beams at me, waving. In the next second, Lauren waves me over, pointing out one of her friends who I just have to meet, no doubt. I wince at her, plate up a couple burgers and hotdogs, skewer the chicken and grilled peppers, and gesture to her that I am heading inside for a beer. Lauren gives me a thumbs-up before she turns back to her girlfriends. I pretend not to see how her friends give me interested looks; I’m well used to it. Lauren always describes me as the hot quarterback in college who barely looks a day older. She loves how I look, and with my son taking after me in looks, it’s not a surprise why he gets all the girls.

“Hey, Craig,” Lauren calls out, her eyes flashing. “Doesn’t a good American man cook with no shirt on? Give us a show.” Her brows waggle, snickering.

I laugh awkwardly. “Loz, I’m not grillin’ naked for your friends’ pleasure.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” she laughs, turning back to her wine. I try to laugh along cheerfully before making my excuse that I’m heading in to grab beers again and finally disappear back into the house. It’s a warm night, so everyone’s making use of the yard, leaving the kitchen blessedly empty.

Empty except for my daughter, who’s at the sink, scrubbing the utensils. Her ass is stuck out a little, emphasizing the black leather skirt she wears. It sits at her waist, with little heart-shaped cut-outs on her hips, exposing just slightly too low down. The rest of her body is clad in a slinky black bodysuit, leaving her arms bare. Ankle boots with killer heels raise her shorter height up to my chin. She was always shorter than her younger brother and made up for her own insecurity with a bad attitude.

I stalk over to her, immediately bracketing her against the sink, my arms enveloping her small body. She will feel my boner, but I’m past caring. We both know what’s happening, as fucking wrong as it is.

“You better cut this shit out right now,” I growl in her ear, fully aware that my actions are barely discouraging her. Even now, my hands ache to glide up her arms, wishing to yank those tight shorts down her thighs and spread her open.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” she asks, turning in my arms. Her eyes blink at me. Her tumble of black curls is tossed back off her forehead, exposing the freckles and dramatic makeup she’s worn for the party. Her head cocks. God, if her perked nipples are anything to go off, she must be popular at her job, with the way she clearly gets off teasing men.

“You know what’s wrong,” I snarl, stepping closer, my groin pressed to hers. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Washing dishes,” she says innocently. “If you’re turning this into something else then-”

I grip her wrist, pinning it to the sink. Everything in me screams both to release her and to push her further. Hannah’s eyes darken, her tongue wetting her lips. She pulls herself from my grip, and I feel the crinkle of her leather skirt. My eyes widen, and I grow harder despite the danger-maybe because of the danger-that someone might walk in.

Then Hannah shifts, and I feel her hand sliding into my pocket the next minute. I follow her hand, finding fabric clasped between us. My teeth grit as I feel the tips of her fingers brush against my cock before she pulls away.

“I want you to fuck me,” she says, all brazen and not veiling her words. Goddamn, if anyone heard us…

My wife is mere feet away and yet all I can think is bending my daughter over the sink and taking her right here, anyone walking in be damned.

“Don’t pretend like you have more self-control than me,” she whispers. “You’re a pervert, just admit it. You want to slip your hand right under my skirt, don’t you? You want to look at my pretty little pu-”

“Hannah.” I breathe in deeply, my eyes closing. “How are you so sure I want any of this?”

Hannah only laughs, as though I’m the joke. “I don’t like you keeping me waiting,” she pouts. “So take my souvenir and you’ll see.”

Hannah saunters off, leaving the rest of the dishes in the sink, and I swear I can see the curve of her ass hanging out the bottom of her skirt. Has she hitched it up? She disappears into the garden, and I hear her voice, as sweet as always, striking up a conversation with someone I can’t see. In the fully empty kitchen, I pull out her thong and press it to my nose, inhaling her scent.

Fuck. There’s a damp patch of string, and I thumb over it, my blood roaring in my ears, my heart pounding.

Shoving the underwear back into my pocket, I go to leave, but before I do, my phone pings. I pull it out, finding a video. The thumbnail shows Hannah, her very fucking naked body splayed out on her bed. I can see her clothes folded on the bed, so I know they were from earlier, fresh out of the shower.

“I’ve waited long enough, Daddy,” she breathes on the video, and I scramble to lower the volume. Her cheeks are flushed gorgeously, her eyes lidded. Her hand is between her thighs, rubbing herself as if she can’t quite do it fast enough.

I can do it faster for her, I think possessively.

My eyes hungrily devour every bare inch of her, flicking up and down her body. Outside, I hear Hannah’s laughter, totally at-odds and driving me crazy with the difference between her innocence in the garden, and the scandalous video I’m glued to.

“Tonight, I have a way to give us both what we want,” she purrs on the video, slowing down her touching, as if teasing herself. As if she’s pleasuring herself without wanting to come yet. Her breath hitches as she continues speaking. I pause the video before quickly ducking into the downstairs bathroom, locking the door. My pants are unclasped in a second but I don’t touch, only relieving myself.

“I’m part of a new project at work, and we’ve secured the fattest fucking funding but we need more data to tweak it to make it perfect.” As she speaks, she shifts, propping her phone against her pillow. Her knees spread, and I curse as she pulls a dildo from a place off-screen, placing it between her legs. Without any prep that I’ve seen, no lube or anything, she sinks down onto it, her teeth biting into her lip, hard. I wonder where I was at this point earlier. Her hips work over the dildo, riding it, her eyes closed and her head tipped back. Her hair falls right down her back, and the sight is everything from my dreams.

I swallow, my throat dry, as she releases a soft moan.

“I’ve approached my boss about a test we haven’t yet tried,” she says, her voice breaking. “We’ve had everything-two men, two girls, a group, multiple orgasms-but we haven’t tested for a woman who knows she’s going under mind control. I wonder if the data will change.”

I don’t entirely recall what she’s talking about, and I know she’s probably told me about her work project before, but I can’t think of anything-not when she’s riding the toy harder. Her damn door isn’t even properly closed. Any of us could have walked in during her video session. Unable to help myself, I start palming my cock through my underwear. I want to take myself out and jerk off with her thong, but I’m already pushing my luck with disappearing so far.

“See, Daddy… we’ve been mastering sexual mind control through an app called Somnus Nox. My boss created it, and it allows for a user to send the object of their sexual desire under their control, either in a wakeful control or sleeping. The user can do as they please, and the object will feel everything as normal, can follow every command, and that’s what I want. I want to be your object.

“The app will make me sleep for a maximum of five hours, so you can fuck me, all guilt-free. If you don’t want me running my dirty mouth or watching how hard you get for your own daughter, I’ll be asleep, completely under, but I’ll know.” Her eyes hood, half closing as her mouth falls open in a sharp gasp.

“I’ve asked my boss to add in some phrases and commands that will prompt a response from me. I won’t tell you what they are.” Her hips roll faster, and her hand drops down. “But I’m sure you’ll figure them out…” My eyes are fixed on her hand covering her clit, rubbing fast.

“But you have to remember,” she pants, “don’t touch the watch or earbuds I’ll be wearing. Fuck, oh, I wish this dildo was your cock. I’ve seen how big you are-you’d fill me so much better. Tonight, after the grad party, I’ll be waiting. Take me exactly as you’ve been wanting. As I want. Don’t disappoint me.”

I hiss as I clench my jaw, trying not to come-especially when Hannah clasps a hand over her mouth, her hips working wildly. “I’m-I’m coming!” she cries out, and the dildo slips out of her as she flicks her palm over her clit, spraying her phone. I’m so far gone in my head that I don’t even notice when the video ends.

My phone screen eventually goes dark.

“Craig?”

My wife’s voice from outside the bathroom makes me drop my phone as I jump. “Fuck,” I mutter. I unlock the screen, and there’s my daughter, come-drunk, her lens splattered with her own squirt. I quickly minimize the video.