The following story is a work of fiction. None of the events portrayed actually occurred, and any similarity to actual people or events is entirely coincidental.

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I have a mind control gift. At least, I think it's a gift. Originally I thought it was a curse. The mind control is very limited in target and duration but it does have some long-term effects. Also, I'm not really in control. In fact, no one is in control. So is it really mind control? Confused? I'll try to explain. My name is Charles, but just about everyone calls me Chuckie after a character in the 'Rugrats' cartoons. I hate that show. Everything was normal for me as a child. My parents are both lead researchers working together at a university-sponsored medical center. It's very lucrative so we're well off. My sister is three years older than I am and we both lead a pretty comfortable existence. Her name is Abigail. Things started to change when I entered puberty. I gradually became aware of a subtle yet distinct odor emitted by women and older girls. I waited for someone to mention the smell but no one did. At first, I thought it was menstrual blood that I smelled but that didn't correlate with anything I knew. Because of my parents' backgrounds, I was aware of sex and reproduction. Health class was old news for me. I knew when my sister started her period because I overheard her mention it to my mom. I began to observe Abigail in the hope of solving the mystery. The odor lasted three days with it building up and trailing off around the middle of her cycle. This may be obvious but it took me a while to figure out my sister was sending out scent signals announcing to the world that she was ovulating. Just like a bitch dog in heat! I couldn't believe it. I searched the medical research sites on the computer for scent signals in human females. There is a lot of pheromone research going on but not any that's been scientifically accepted. This in itself would have been interesting but then I was distracted by something else. I started getting horny. Not just a young and healthy pubescent male horniness. A lot hornier than that. My erections just would not go down when I was around that scent. It was okay at home. I could just retreat to my room. But at school? Impossible! There wasn't a day that went by that a group of coeds or female teachers weren't ovulating. Physical education was uncomfortable, especially during coed activities. I have an average sized erection but it soon became obvious to everyone the cause of my distress. The guys teased me and most of the girls just giggled. Masturbation was a temporary relief but gosh, how could I do that at school? I started isolating myself as much as possible. I considered going to my parents but I was too embarrassed. One evening I was home with Mom and Abigail. Both of them were in heat. The odor was really strong as, it seemed, both of their cycle coincided. I was heading upstairs when I began to detect another scent. It was thick and musky. It was coming from me! Oh no! I thought. Now I'm going to start smelling like an old man. A lump started forming in my throat and I thought I was going to start crying. I continued upstairs and passed Abigail in the hall. I know she smelled me because she gave me a really weird look. I ignored her, went into my room and closed the door. I flopped back on my bed. What next, I thought. The door opened and Abigail walked in. The fact that she didn't knock or ask to come in pissed me off. Hell, I was already pissed off. "Don't come in," I shouted. "Get out!" Abigail ignored me. "I-I just want... " she seemed confused and continued toward me. When Abigail was about a meter away something made critical mass and exploded in our minds. We both knew what we had to do. I can't honestly say our fuck was anything more than the most basic of animal couplings. Certainly no romance, passion or technique. My only desire was to come inside Abigail and fertilize her egg. I didn't know if Abigail had her come and frankly I didn't care. We came to our senses about the same time. Abigail jumped up, grabbed her clothes and hurried out of the room. I heard the bathroom door slam and the shower start. I must have dozed for a bit because when I awoke I heard "... is in her room crying and won't say a word. Do you... ?" I looked at my mom and I saw her eyes glaze over. I screamed in rage and reached out to push her away. Instead I found myself pulling my mother onto the bed with me. Far from resisting, Mom actually assisted me. In a matter of minutes I deposited a dose of sperm into my own mother's womb. Instead of jumping up and leaving Mom slowly dressed as if in shock over what happened. She then started pacing up and down the room, obviously trying to reason things out in her mind. I continued to lie on the bed, resigned to my doom. Finally I said, "I'm sorry Mom." "Sorry? I'm the one who's sorry. I just can't understand what happened." She started wringing her hands. "I must be having a nervous breakdown." "It wasn't your fault Mom." "Don't be ridiculous. I'm the adult here. Or at least I'm supposed to be." "Please! Let me explain." Once I knew that my mom wasn't going to kill me right off, I had to get it off my chest. My mom's puzzled look turned to interest soon after I started my story. Heck! She actually smiled a couple of times. About half way through my narrative she grabbed paper, pen and a tape recorder and had me start over. I obviously had piqued her scientific curiosity. Mom started asking me questions and scribbling notes madly. When Dad got home I had to start the story a third time. I didn't mind. I actually was getting a sympathetic hearing. I can't say my dad was happy when he heard about the incest, but even he got excited when he realized the scientific and research possibilities. Mom finally remembered to go assure Abigail she wasn't crazy and to give her a capsule version of my story. I went to bed that night knowing that my life had changed but at least it hadn't ended. Abigail and I stayed home from school that day. My dad went to the office and brought back a kit to take various samples from me; blood, urine, sweat, hair, saliva, anything they could think of. Mom took samples from herself and Abigail for a sensitive pregnancy test. The next day was Saturday. We all sat down for a family conference. Dad announced that the pregnancy tests came back positive. Abigail and Mom didn't react at all. They'd already been through their angst. I think they both instinctively knew impregnation had occurred very soon after intercourse. Dad suggested a morning-after pill. That's when something else happened. Abigail started to go into a panic attack and Mom started getting dizzy. Dad and I jumped out of our chairs to help, but both Mom and Abigail already seemed to be recovering. "I think," Mom said, "these babies have announced they want to be born." Abigail nodded her agreement. "Well, we won't discuss this anymore," said Dad. "Okay?" This time, we all nodded agreement. Mom and Dad spent the rest of the day in private arguing theories about what happened and, I think, discussing my future. "We're pulling you out of school," Mom announced. Wow! They were moving fast. It was only Sunday morning. Dad and Abigail had taken off so that Mom and I could talk in private. "You're a walking time bomb," Mom added. I nodded. I was glad the other night's incident hadn't occurred in public. That thought made me shudder. "What about my education?" "You'll be taught by a private teacher. A male teacher, I think. Also, I'll be staying home with you for a while." "What about your work?" "Oh, it'll continue. You've handed us a project that any number of researchers would sell their souls for. Your father will continue with his research to provide us with an income and facilities for our personal project. You and I are going to be working together to find out what happened." "What did happen?" "We don't know yet. Maybe we'll never know. Your father and I discussed many possibilities yesterday." "What's your best guess?" "Well, let's go back to early Man, not too long after he branched off from the ape line. He probably had the ability to smell the scent of fertile females, just like you can. Over the millennia, he eventually lost that ability. This was not necessarily a bad thing. When Man developed agriculture, family units were forming and with that, the concept of property. If a man could be reasonably assured that his female's child was the result of his own seed, he could pass the property to his heir without worrying whether the child was the product of a rival or even a stranger who caught his woman's scent when he wasn't around. From such simple beginnings civilizations developed. Somehow, this long-dormant gene has been activated inside your DNA, allowing you to smell the scent of an ovulating female. This in turn activated another gene allowing you emit your own scent, attracting the ovulating female." I shook my head, not in disbelief, but in amazement. "What about the other thing when you and Abigail got sick?" Mom smiled. "I can only speak for myself right now. When I walked into your room and got near you, the reasoning processes in my brain short-circuited, so to speak, and everything else became instinct. My reasoning didn't return until insemination was completed. My hunch is that the episode imprinted itself on a non-reasoning, more primitive part of my brain. That part of my brain equates the survival of the child growing inside me with its own survival. Any other possible explanation borders on the supernatural which scientists reject out of hand since it's something that can't be reproduced under laboratory conditions. So there you are. You're the walking, talking Holy Grail of pheromone research. No woman of child-bearing age can resist you." I grinned at the thought. "I guess there must be some downside." "Oh, sure." Mom was sober now. "Because of the uncontrollable nature of the phenomenon, I can see you in jail for sexual assault, dead or severely injured from an outraged husband, suffering from a sexually transmitted disease or merely kidnapped and used as a guinea pig for government or corporate interests. I'm sure I can think of other possibilities but none of them good." Shit! I thought. I was scared again. "What happens when I'm an adult?" "Well, you can become a hermit, join a monastery or continue to work with us to isolate the gene and understand the phenomenon." "The first two choices don't sound like me," I said. "How long to isolate the gene?" "There's no telling. Usually we'd compare your DNA with others of the same condition. Since you're the only person in the world with this condition that we know of, there's no one to compare you with." "You can't clone me, can you?" "Well, technically we can but all that we'd be getting is a copy of the DNA we already have." "Then how?" "We'll need to examine the DNA of your children." "Will two samples be enough?" I began to get hopeful. "No. We'll need hundreds. Perhaps thousands." "What?" I was stunned. This was impossible. "How are we going to have a thousand children. There's only you and Abigail." "No, there are a thousand potential mothers just in this city alone." "There are? How do we get them to volunteer?" I could tell my mom was getting annoyed with my failure to comprehend. Slowly and precisely she said, "We don't ask for volunteers. You use your little gift to assure proper mating behavior." "Isn't that kind of dangerous?" "Of course!" Mom responded. "It's also illegal, unethical and immoral. This is why we have to keep this a secret from everybody. Your father and I believe the experiment is worth the risk for the data we need. Don't worry. We'll take care of everything. You'll have to trust us. You'll be making a great contribution to science and perhaps have a lot of fun in the bargain." "I trust you both, Mom. I just can't say it's been fun yet." "Of course, it hasn't. It was stupid of me to say that. I'll try to make it up to you." "How's that?" I asked. Mom started blushing and acting shy before answering. "There's another side effect I must mention. I get sexually aroused just being around you." "What!" Another bombshell! "Let me finish, please." I knew this was difficult for Mom so I tried to keep my mouth shut even though I was bursting with even more questions to ask. "I believe this must be a side effect because your sister is being affected the same way. I meant to keep this part away from you. We're sending Abigail to a private school to complete her education and have her baby in private. She's having a difficult time trying to deal with her feelings for you. I thought I could work with you and keep you at arm's length at the same time. I guess I'm no stronger than your sister. "You now know the power you have over women in general and me in particular. Perhaps this isn't even the full extent of your powers. You're young and still maturing. By the way, your father is aware of the situation. We don't keep anything from each other. I love your father and I still want to share his bed but it's you I want sexually. I'll always be available. I know the arguments against it, the incest and our age difference. I'll understand if you feel repelled by my throwing myself at you." My mother had spent herself emotionally by her confession. She stood in front of me with her head down, looking as if she was bracing herself for rejection. For my part, I had a nice erection going. And it wasn't caused by some biochemical odor either. The thought of my mom as a sexual partner was pretty exciting to me. Mom was still shy of 40 years old and I'd always considered her as very attractive. In just a few minutes, I'd gone from feeling completely dependent to realizing how much power I really had. I guess the adage "power corrupts... " is absolutely true. Already I was thinking about how I could use my new talent to my own advantage. I mean, helping my parents with the science was all well and good but what was in it for me? Ten or 15 -minute quickies with a bunch of women I'd probably never see again weren't as exciting as I first thought. A small but devoted harem of sex slaves was more my style. I decided to test my power. I had to know if Mom would do anything else except fuck for me. "Mom? Karen?" I no longer wanted to call her Mom. She looked up. There was no objection to my familiarity. Well, I'd soon find out where her resistance levels were. I walked up to my mom and placed my arms around her waist. "Karen," I said. "I don't care if you're my mother. I don't care about the age difference." I moved my hands from her waist to her hips. I felt her muscles tense slightly and then relax. "I'm just glad you're so beautiful. I really want you." I reached up and thumbed a nipple into stiffness. Karen gasped slightly and leaned her head forward as if she wanted to kiss me. I pushed her away slightly and she stopped, looking confused. "Are you my mom or are you my girl? "I don't understand," she said. "I'll explain it to you. If you want to be my mom, you know we shouldn't be doing this." I was unbuttoning her blouse and slipping my hands behind her to unhook her bra. Shit! I'd never unhooked a bra before. Rather than fumble around, I'd save it until later. "As my girl, you'll think of nothing but pleasing me and we'll be doing all sorts of sexy things to each other." "Can't I be a little of both?" "No," I said. "I want it one way or the other." "You seem to forget that I'm married. I have a husband and he happens to be your father. I owe my first loyalty to him." "I'm not trying to get you to be disloyal to him. I imagine you'll be telling him all that went on between us today. Isn't that right?" I pulled down her slacks by the elastic waistband. My fingers caught on her panties and they came down also. I steadied myself on her thighs, nuzzled my face into her pubic hair and gave it a kiss. "Oh!" Karen gasped. She would have fallen except she caught herself on my shoulders. My mother lifted each foot as I removed her shoes and finished removing her slacks and panties. A pair of knee-highs followed and she was completely naked with the exception of her bra. "Isn't that right?" I repeated. "Uh, yes. Your father will need to know." "And I won't be asking you to stop sleeping with my dad so there's no problem there. Right?" I led Karen to a couch and sat her on the edge. I knelt between her legs. "I'm still not sure I understand what you want. You can have me anytime you want and your father won't interfere. He wants us both to be happy." "I want you to tell me everything just like a loyal wife. Think of me as your second husband." I saw her shudder when I said that and I think the thought excited her. "What do you want to know?" I ignored her question for the moment. I moved forward and began to lick at her vulva. I soon discovered my mother was capable of multiple orgasms. She experienced little ones every 15 to 20 seconds and they could best be described as hiccups. I wanted to give her a monster orgasm but I think my mom could have gone all day like this and my tongue just wasn't up to it. "Tell me what Dad's up to," I said finally. "You're not telling me everything." "I'm not hiding anything from you. I swear." "Lying bitch!" I snarled. My mother recoiled physically. I'd never before cursed at her. "No man in his right mind would put up with someone fucking his wife unless he had a hidden motive. He wants to keep his wife and son happy? Don't make me laugh!" I got and started to walk out of the room. I hoped I was doing the right thing. I knew I could dominate my mother physically, but I wanted to own her mind, too. "Charles! Come back!" "No thanks, Mother," I called as I left. I went to my room, sat down on my bed and waited. I didn't have long to wait. There was a knock at the door and it opened slightly. "Charles? May I come in?" "Sure, Mom." Mom walked in and sat down on the bed beside me. She had put on a robe before coming in. "Your father wants to artificially duplicate and commercialize your pheromone. Even in a severely diluted form, sales would be astronomic when it was shown to actually work in attracting the human female to the human male. As the saying goes, sex sells. We would have told you soon. After all, we need your cooperation. There are just so many details to be worked out, it may be a while before we can even begin working on the product. Satisfied?" she asked and smiled prettily. "So I wasn't to worry my brain about anything until it was time to perform." "Well, I certainly wouldn't put it that way. You're still pretty young and I'm sure you would have been bored with the details. After all, we are your parents and we do have your best interests in mind." "I was wondering about that," I said skeptically. "Whatever do you mean?" Mom's voice and expression told me that I'd hurt her feelings. "It's my body and it's my talent. I'd be taking all the risks, fucking strange women just to knock them up. You and Dad would be sitting back recording data and raking in the bucks on this pheromone product." "I admit we haven't worked out all of the details," Mom argued, "however we certainly wouldn't want to put you in danger. We'd want to take a look at all the risks first before letting you make a move. As far as the business side is concerned, there are no guarantees that we'd be able to commercialize a product. If we did, you'd certainly benefit financially as part of the family." "I see," I said noncommittally. While my mom was talking, I was taking out my prick and starting to stroke it. She stopped talking and started to stare. "You know, Mom," I continued, "I could make a lot of money without breaking a sweat. If I'm as powerful as you think, I could go out and find a rich lady. Someone with a gazillion dollars to her name. If I gave her a baby, she'd probably want to marry me and presto! I'd have half a gazillion dollars. What do you think?" "It might work," she said absently. "What do you want?" Mom was getting impatient and I think she wanted me to get her off again. My demands were only half-formed in my mind but I decided to give it a go. "I want 51% of any business venture involving my pheromone. I want to have prior approval of any plans for Operation Knock-up. I want Abigail to stay home. I have plans for her. I want you to be my advocate with Dad. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know." "Your father might have something to say about that. What about me?" I think Mom was disappointed that I hadn't made any sexual demands of her. "You know what I want. Are you my girl?" "Does this answer your question?" My mother stood up and stripped off her robe. Her bra was already off. I admired my mother's body. I didn't have a good look before. Being no judge of cup sizes, all I can tell you was that her tits were nice handfuls. She really took care of herself. "Are you my girl?" I asked. "Yes," she said. "I'll also be your wife, lover, whore and anything else you want me to be." Karen knelt down beside me, placed her head on my chest and hugged me. "I also want to have more of your children. Your father and I were debating whether I should go on the Pill or have my tubes tied when this baby is born to prevent another accident. But I want you to breed me until I'm worn out." She moved her head down to my prick and started sucking on it. "I might want Abigail to have more babies, too," I gasped as the pleasure afforded by Karen's mouth and tongue overtook me. Karen stopped sucking and said, "You won't have any trouble with Abigail. The only opposition you'll have is with your father." She resumed sucking. I decided to worry about Dad later. In the Information Age there is no privacy. Because of my parents' position and connections, obtaining medical, economic and other personal data are no problem. Our ideal candidate mother is a single or unmarried professional in her mid to late 20's. She is financially stable, physically healthy and psychologically well adjusted. Her medical records are examined to make sure she has no sexually transmitted or genetic diseases. Of course, our potential mother of my child cannot be on birth control pills. It is helpful if she lives alone and is not in any current relationship. If she is likely to suffer harm in any way, we pass on her. Of course, the stigma of unwed motherhood can't be helped. I am an equal opportunity breeder. I don't discriminate on the basis of race, religion or ethnic background. The women's height-to-weight ratios are about average and they range in looks from merely attractive to extraordinarily beautiful. To get around I wear a specially designed jacket lined with odor-absorbing charcoal filters. We tried masking scents at first but the best of them made me smell like I'd fallen into a vat of cheap perfume, which, of course, attracted attention. That was something I didn't need. At the university there are no shortages of students who need money. My parents announced that they needed women who would be willing to be hooked up to monitors that measured brain activity for a short while in return for a small fee. The only conditions were that they had to ovulating and not on any chemical birth control when the measurements were taken. Still, there were plenty of volunteers for the easy money. The volunteer was hooked up in an enclosed booth, told to relax and listen to Mozart. What she didn't know was that I was hooked up in a booth right next to her. We couldn't see or hear each other but we could catch each other's scents. I didn't pretend to be interested in the technical details but besides becoming sexually excited, my parents discovered that the volunteers were highly susceptible to suggestion while under the influence of my scent. A lot of Mozart fans were created! This knowledge proved invaluable when the breeding program actually began. We decided it would be best if I just showed up at the target's door when we knew she was home alone. Her medical records gave my parents a good estimate of when she was ovulating. I'd take off my jacket before reaching her door. I'd ring the doorbell and wait for her to answer. Because of my age and size (I'm not imposing) I'm not perceived as a potential threat and no one's refused to open the door. If I don't catch her scent, she's not ovulating. I just announce that I'm selling magazine subscriptions with obscure titles. She'd say, "No, thanks" and I'd be on my way. Most of the time I was lucky. The target would open her door. I'd catch her scent and begin producing my own scent. When her eyes glazed over I knew I was in. Because of lots of practice with Karen and Abigail, my fucking isn't so frantic and I'm better able to control myself. Once inside with the door closed, I begin a hypnotic induction, which I learned by heart. Once I have my prick in her, I tell her that she feels good about what's happening and that she loves the thought of getting pregnant by me, giving birth and raising my child. This avoids the woman feeling panic or regret after I've fucked her, as happened to Abigail and Karen, and allows me to make a clean getaway. Lastly, I give her a code word that tells her to cooperate when invited to participate in a long-term study of her and her child. Of course, it will be my parents who will be asking her to cooperate. Among the questions my parents want answered; Is it really genetics or something else? If it is genes, which genes are they and how were they activated? Was there an environmental factor involved? Will my children inherit these genes? Will my children be able to pass on these genes to their children? We live in a major metropolitan area where unwed pregnancies hardly raise an eyebrow. I don't expect my activities to trigger any alarms. When I get a little older I hope to be able to spread my seed throughout the U.S. and Canada and perhaps overseas, as well. My sister and mother are getting quite large now and I have several other pregnancies to my credit as of this writing. Surprisingly, my father complained only about the percentage I demanded from the business venture. The only concession I gave him was to let him recover his initial costs if a successful pheromone product is developed. He finally came around. I guess he figured a piece of the pie was better than nothing at all. If anything happens on that front I'll let my online friends know. If not, well, there's always that lady with the gazillion dollars.

mymindcontrolgift