Disclaimer: This series is a Smashword Exclusive, but part 1 is for free. You can purchase the full series [here.](https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/54430) This story contains strong elements of mind control, anal, bdsm, whipping, and threesomes. Read at your discretion.

**Chapter 1**

Watching the trees and mountains and all the beautiful nature go by should have been an enthralling experience. After all, all I saw every day were buildings, cars, and more buildings.

But I could never enjoy the sights rolling past me. All I could think as I was sitting on the dimly lit train, clutching my Kindle in one hand and my phone in the other, was how crappy my life was.

Opposite to me, a young child was chatting animatedly with his mother about dinosaurs. He was saying how he was going to be a paleontologist one day when he grew up and it made me want to throw up.

*Lucky bastard. He does not know how blessed he is.*

I tried to focus on the story I was reading, ‘Man of the House Gets An Early Christmas Present From Mother,’ but no matter how much I tried to force myself to read the steamy erotica, more bitter thoughts pushed their way into my mind. Finally, I had enough. The kid was talking too loud, and he seemed too happy.

“Can you shut up?” I snapped at the kid.

The young boy looked at me in shock. The mother too. Several people turned their heads in my direction, and I knew I had made a serious mistake.

Putting my head down, I stood up and walked over to the next carriage, where I found an empty row of seats at the very end.

“Fuck me,” I said to myself when I was out of earshot. “Fuck my life. Why do I have to ride this damn carriage every day? Why can’t my fucking mom ever support me?”

I was twenty years old, still in college, finishing my degree in business administration. People would say I was heading on the right path in life. Except there was one major issue.

My mother.

Mia Ward was not your typical mom. In fact, she might be the best candidate for ‘worst mother in the world’. She had always been frigid and uncaring towards me, and living with her my whole life was a constant reminder that I was an accident from a drunken one night stand.

My mother had never once given me an ounce of support. She had a well-paying job, a cushy position as the personal secretary to a tech CEO, but every single cent I had spent, I had to earn myself.

At the age of eighteen, I had to take out a loan from the bank just to afford my college tuition. And to feed myself, I also had to spend what little free time I had and work part time as a librarian assistant.

It was not like my mother hated the idea of me going to college; it was just that she hated me.

So, I had to commute on this shitty two-hour train ride every day just so I could get to and from college. Most of my classmates had their own cars, all thanks to their parents. But me? No such luck.

There was a loud ping from the train speakers, and a second later, the automated message played.

“We are arriving at Jung Station. Please don’t forget your personal belongings.”

Jung station. I had never visited the area before, but I recognised it as the place where people go for cheap eats.

My stomach growled at the thought. I should hop off to have a quick bite. However, I was tired and angry and I didn’t feel like walking. Especially when I still had to sit through an hour and a half to get back to the city.

My stomach rumbled again, louder this time.


Standing up, I rushed towards the train door as it was closing and made it out before it snapped shut. I stood outside awkwardly, watching the train start moving forward, rolling past, then disappearing into the distance.

Sighing, I made my way out from the deserted station. The sun was setting and the heavy clouds overhead indicated that it was going to be a depressing evening.

Signs of life showed as I continued my way forward into a large circular gravel clearing. Jung was a small rural town, practically in the middle of nowhere, so the last thing I had expected to see were crowds. I looked in amazement at my surroundings. Stalls were scattered everywhere, and the air was lively with chatter and smoke as people gathered in front of their favorite food vendors.

I wandered around, looking for anything I fancied. I only had a small wad of cash stored in my right jean pocket, enough to survive for the week if I spent conservatively.

There was an extensive selection of choices. Chinese, Mexican, Korean, Japanese, it seemed they had it all. And from the prices they were advertising at, I could afford a good meal.

Maybe I should come here more. The city food I was accustomed to having was almost triple the prices here.

“Young man.”

I perked up at the feminine voice. It sounded like it came from right behind me.

I turned around and saw an attractive woman in her thirties hovering a few feet away. She was looking directly at me, as if she was staring deep into my soul.

Was she talking to me?

I looked at my sides. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to her.

“Are—are you talking to me?” I asked her.

The woman smiled at my inquiry, and her deep blue eyes twinkled. With a manicured red nail, she beckoned me to follow her, then turned around and walked away.

I stood there for several seconds, contemplating what to do.

Why was she really talking to me? Did I know her? Should I follow her? Was this some kind of scam?

*Fuck it*, I finally decided, moving my feet. *No harm done if I do follow her. There are many people around, so I should be safe. I just need to be on my guard.*

I pushed through the dense crowd, trying to keep up with the strange woman, occasionally catching glimpses of her long, flowing hair just past the mountain of shoulders and heads.

Finally, we made it through the crowd and into a section of the clearing where there were much fewer stalls.

The woman looked back, saw I was right behind her, then gestured to a medium-sized store at the edge of the area.

“What are you selling?” I asked her as I neared her store. There wasn’t food of any kind in sight. Instead, rows after rows of strange looking items sat neatly on white-clothed tables, and there was an aroma of incense in the air.

“Desires,” the woman replied simply, as if that explained everything. Her accent was like nothing I have ever heard. It was a strange mix of French and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. She went around the long table and stood opposite to me.


She tossed her hair back and bundled it into a ponytail. “What’s your name?”

“James,” I told her, wondering why the hell I was giving out my name to a total stranger.

Maybe I was influenced by her looks. There was no doubt about her wild beauty. With lush flowing hair and breasts that were too big for the t-shirt she was wearing, it shouldn’t be a surprise that I was doing whatever she told me to. Women like her rarely give me attention, but then again, she clearly had an agenda in bringing me here.

“James,” she spoke my name out in that exotic accent of hers. A slow smile spread across her face, and I glimpsed perfect whites. “You’re a man of desires, aren’t you, James?”

I took a quick glance around. The closest person was yards away, and he seemed to pay no attention to us.

I looked back at her and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her smile widened. “I could tell from the moment I saw you that you desperately need my help.”

I started backing away. Beautiful or not, this lady was ringing alarm bells in my head.

“Look, I think you got the wrong guy,” I told her. “I think—”

“You’ve never felt the touch of a woman before, have you?”

I stopped. Was she… offering me some kind of prostitution service?

Interest sparked within me, but I held it down. If she was offering herself, there was no way in hell I could afford her, as tempting as it might be. I would have to take up another loan.

She seemed to read my mind. “I’m not a prostitute, James. But, I can help you with your problems with women.”

“How?” I asked her, genuinely interested. I wasn’t surprised that she could tell I had no luck with the opposite sex. One look at me and anyone could tell I was a loser. The word ‘scrawny’ was written with me in mind. I was thin, fragile, and had failing eyesight. I hated it when people called me a nerd and had already resigned myself to the fact that the only love I was going to get had to be paid for.

“What do you desire most in a woman?” the strange lady asked me instead. She held up a hand and listed things with her fingers. “Love? Sex? Marriage? Affection?”

I must have reacted to the last word, because she paused.

“Affection it is,” she whispered, and her deep blue eyes seemed to glow. “But from whom? Is there a woman in your life that—”

“My mom,” I spat the words out. Rage filled within me as I thought of the woman who was supposed to love me unconditionally.

“Your mother?” she mused, rubbing her chin. “I can tell by the look on your face that she shows you no love.” She shook her head distastefully. “No mother should treat her child like this. My heart goes out to you, James.”

I didn’t know how long I stood there with my hands balled into fists. But the anger disappeared as quickly as it came.

What was I doing? Throwing a tantrum to a random stranger?

“I need to go,” I said, turning away.

But as I took a step back towards the crowd, she stopped me dead in my tracks by uttering the impossible.

“What if I told you I can make your mother love you?”

I snorted. It seemed like emotions were just pouring out of me like a waterfall. I bent over and laughed hysterically. What she had said was impossible, ridiculous, a complete fantasy, and the funniest thing I have heard in my life.

The lady stood there, stone faced, as I tried to regain my lost composure.

“How?” I managed the word in between giggling fits. “How the fuck are you going to do that?” I didn’t mean to, but I threw the last word out with venom, spit coming out of me and towards her.

“I’m sorry for you,” the lady said after I calmed down. “But I was serious when I said I can make your mother love you. I don’t sell fantasies here.”

Shame and embarrassment overcame me. What was I doing? I sneaked a glance around, and strangely, no one seemed to have noticed my outburst.

Even though the lady was talking nonsense, I felt bad for my blow-up. I decided to pretend to take her seriously. Maybe she wouldn’t think I was a complete asshole if I played her tune—just for a while.

“Even if I believed you,” I started. “I don’t have the money to afford whatever it is you’re selling me.”

“Not true,” she dismissed me. The lady reached over to a basket on her right. It was full of sparkling gemstones, the kind you would find in a shady Chinese Feng Shui store.

I watched as she searched the stones until she carefully pulled one out.

“The stone of control,” she announced, showing me her prized belonging. It was a circular green gemstone, like an emerald, but it seemed to be made of marble.

This lady was insane.

“The stone of control?” I repeated, not knowing if she was actually serious.

She nodded. “It seems like all your problems stem from having a lack of control. With this jade, you can gain what you so desperately want. You can have control over anything.” She paused for dramatic effect, and I almost let out a sigh. “Or anybody.”

“Okay,” I spoke slowly, not wanting to offend her again. “How much is this magical stone?”

“For you, James, I will let this one go. For the second stone, you will have to pay.”

“Second?” I looked at her hands. She was only holding one. “What do you mean second stone?”

Even though her smile was radiant, it sent shivers down my spine.

“When you come back for more,” she replied simply. “I pity you, so I’m letting you take this one as a gift.” She extended her palm out.

Of course. Pity.

My whole life, people had looked at me with pity-filled gazes, as if I was a caged animal in the zoo. But then again, a lot of times, I felt like I was trapped in a cage.

I stared at the jade she was offering me.

Should I take it?

The answer came to me as quickly as the question.

Since she was offering me it for free, what harm was there in taking it?

Hesitantly, I reached for the gift. The stone felt ice cold. I withdrew as if it had stung me.

“Don’t worry,” the lady assured me. “This one hasn’t claimed a soul, so that’s why it’s cold.” She jerked her palm. “Take it.”

I took the stone.

“There are some instructions you need to know in order to use the stone of control,” The lady’s gaze narrowed. “First, and foremost, hide it out of sight.”

It took me several seconds before I realized she was waiting for me.

“Oh,” I muttered dumbly and dropped the stone in my right pocket. Even though I was wearing jeans, the coldness seeped through the thick fabric and chilled my thigh.

“Treat it like a gun. Do not show the stone of control to anyone you do not intend to use it on.”

“Umm,” I said awkwardly, shifting the pebbles beneath my shoes. “Yeah, okay.”

“In your case, I want you to show your mother the stone,” she instructed, looking oblivious to the fact that I just wanted to leave. Was she really being serious about all this? The stone of control? Did she really believe in all of this nonsense?

“Once you show her the stone,” she continued, “it will claim her soul and your mother will be completely yours to use as you see fit. Give her commands and she will not be able to resist.”

I coughed. Was she expecting me to reply to all that?

“I know, I know. This is a lot to take in,” the weird lady admitted. “But you also need to heed some warnings. First, the effects of the stone of control are permanent and irreversible. Your mother will not age once her soul is taken, nor will she be affected by sickness or disease. She will become an extension to the bearer of the stone, an utterly subservient and obedient companion.”

She lowered her voice and spoke in a whisper.

“But,” she hissed out like she was about to reveal a big secret. “You have to be the last person to touch the stone of control. If you lose the stone, your mother will be enslaved to the person who has possession of it.”

“Umm,” I was at a loss for words, so I defaulted to the ‘umm okay’ route. “Okay.”

“Remember that. Do not lose the stone, I cannot help you if you do.”

“Can I, um,” I gestured away, using my thumb. “Can I go now?”

Her smile returned. “Yes, you can.” She nodded at me. “Farewell, James. I’m sure you will be back. Until then.”

She turned around and walked to the other side of her stall.

I took her dismissal and headed in the opposite direction, far away from the crazy lady. I didn’t care how pretty she was. Her brain was all sorts of messed up.

I could feel the chill of the jade with every step I took. I thought of tossing it out of my pocket to avoid the discomfort it was causing me, but I finally decided to just dump it in my backpack.

After all, it might be worth something. I could sell it if it was worth a few bucks, and even if it was worth nothing, I didn’t really lose anything but time from listening to that deranged woman.

It took some time before I got my bearings straight. It was confusing at first, turning around corners and pushing through crowds. I had to let out a sigh of relief when the stores I had seen when I first entered Jung started coming into view.

I headed straight back for the train station as soon as I could, only starting to relax once I had entered the bullet train. The evening rush had long passed, so there weren’t many people on the train.

As I tried to make myself comfortable for the ninety minute ride back home, my stomach growled again, louder than ever.

Shit. I had forgotten to buy food.

Too late now, I thought as I watched the sun dip below the horizon. The next several stations were unfamiliar to me, and I didn’t want to waste time and get myself lost again, especially when it was going to rain soon. I would just get back home and cook a late night dinner.

Ninety minutes of sitting and waiting while starving to death.

I let out a heavy sigh before I resigned myself to the depressing wait and took out my Kindle to continue reading my erotica. I had stopped before the best part, where the mother was going to give her son a superb blowjob for Christmas.

My breathing started getting heavier as the scenes became steamier. The mother was now naked and on all fours, preparing to get fucked from behind by her son’s massive cock.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I repeated the words from the novel as the son drew his hips forwards and began railing his mother.

I set down my Kindle and stole a look around. Nobody was sitting in my carriage, but there was a guy in the carriage next to mine, headphones on his ears and nodding off.

I unzipped my jeans and pulled out my erection. I started pumping myself as I resumed reading the erotic scene. The mother was screaming in delight as her only son fucked her horny cunt without remorse.

My mind started drifting to my mother. As terrible and frigid as she was towards me, I desired her affection over everything else. So, like the depressing sick fuck I was, I could only get off to mother-son porn. This particular erotica had stuck out to me because, like in the story I was reading, my mother was a single mom, and I was her only son. There were a lot of similarities.

If only I could be as lucky as the son in the novel. As fucked up as it was, I would do anything and pay whatever just to fuck my own mother. Maybe this weird fetish of mine had stemmed from years of neglect and abuse. I don’t know.

I pumped my cock faster and faster. The son was ravaging his mother’s swollen cunt with powerful thrusts. I came at the same time the son in the story did, but unlike the fantasy, this was reality, and I spurted my seed over the cold steel floor instead of inside my mother’s pussy like I had always dreamed of.

Life sucks.


I opened the door to my mother’s apartment. The first thing I heard, other than the thundering storm outside, was my mother typing away on her laptop inside her office.

Her door was open so she would have heard me, but of course, she didn’t even bother with the energy to greet me.

I headed inside my room, set my bag and belongings down on my bed and then walked out back outside towards the kitchen.

Man, I was famished. Rummaging through the drawers, I found an abundance of canned food.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

I turned around and saw my mother standing at the kitchen doorway, her posture stern and her arms crossed.

“I’m cooking dinner,” I told her, setting down the cans I had been holding. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

As usual when conversing with me, she sounded pissed. “And why haven’t you eaten yet?”

“I forgot,” I started to say. “I went looking for food and—”

“You forgot,” she repeated my words slowly, her tongue holding onto every syllable.

“Yes, and—”

“And what?” she interrupted me again. “You’re already twenty years old, a grown adult, and you forgot to eat dinner?”

“Yeah, but I was busy. There was—”

“Go to bed,” she snapped, not even bothering to listen to my reasoning. “Let this be a lesson for you to learn how to be independent for once.”

For once? I was getting an education while working jobs so I could pay rent living in my mom’s apartment and pay off my loan. Everything I have owned in life, I have worked hard for.

What the fuck was she on about?

I tried to stay calm and reason with her. “But, can’t I just cook—”

“Cook my food?” Her voice became shrill as she emphasized ‘my food.’ “I bought the groceries with my money. Those are not yours. If you want your own, go outside and buy them yourself.”

Before I could reply, she turned around and stormed away.

I could feel tears welling in my eyes.

No, I shouldn’t cry. I was used to the abuse, so why was today affecting my emotions so much?

I tried my best to keep my emotions under wraps while I put the food cans back where I found them, almost tossing them back into the cabinet in frustration.

“Fuck this, fuck her. Fuck this, fuck her,” I was repeating the mantra under my breath while I headed back into my room, hungry, cold, and depressed.


The downpour didn’t stop the next day. Lightning and rain surrounded us as I sat in the lecture theater looking through the windows.

It was my favorite class of the day because it was the last. I couldn’t wait to head back home and read more erotica. I had bought a bundle of stories online and the thought of lying in bed and completing all the steamy stories I had purchased felt like heaven on earth right now.

Finally, the lecturer dismissed us. I left the theater and made my way to the campus main hall, shaking my head when I saw just how heavy the rainstorm was. I couldn’t even look past three feet. Sighing, I sucked it up, opened my umbrella and marched towards the train station while watching everyone else heading towards the car park where either their parents were waiting for them, or where their own vehicles were parked.

Fuck them.

The train station was packed full of people like never before. It was a messy sight of umbrellas, raincoats, and loud chattering, and it was until I was in the middle of the crowd that I realized most of the chatter were curses being thrown out.

The announcement system dinged a notification seconds later, clearing my confusion.

“The station has been temporarily closed due to a potential bomb threat,” a female voice from the speakers informed us. “We apologize for the convenience caused.”

I started spitting out curses too after hearing the damned announcement. Now what? How the hell was I going to get back home?

I trudged my way through the crowd and towards the exit, where I found a space to stand around and think.

Grabbing a taxi was out of the question. The place I was staying was miles and miles away, and there was no way I could afford the fare. Staying overnight in a motel seemed to be a viable option, though it wouldn’t be a comfortable choice. I have heard plenty of horror stories from cheap motels, from filthy rooms to sketchy employees.

Finally, I went for the worst, but most convenient option—call my mother. With a heavy hand, I took out my phone and tapped the number to my mother’s.

It rang once, twice, three times. Six times. Ten times.

No answer. I sighed. I didn’t know why I had expected her to pick up.

I cursed again, scrolling through my contacts list to see who might help me. It was a short list; I knew little people, and the contact I kept scrolling back to was my aunt, Katherine.

Aunt Katherine was my mother’s younger sister. Like the relationship with the rest of my mom’s family, I wasn’t close to her. But she lived nearby and could help me out with my dire situation.

I dialed her number and held my breath.

“Hello?” my aunt answered on the third ring. “Who is this?”

“Hi, Aunt Katherine,” I greeted, sounding more nervous than I would have liked. “It’s me, James. Mia’s son?”

“Oh, James.” She didn’t seem pleased to hear me. “What is it?”

I explained my situation to her, practically begging my aunt to rescue me.

“I don’t know, James,” my aunt’s hesitant voice rang out from my phone speakers. “It’s a long drive to your mom’s place.”

“Please?” I begged. “Just this once? I’ll pay you back once I get the money.”

She didn’t bother to hide her sigh. It was drained and heavy, as if she was dealing with a spoiled child.

“Okay, James,” she reluctantly agreed, still sounding uncertain. “I expect full payment by the end of the month. Send me a bank wire once you get the chance.”

“Thank you, I will—” I said, but she had already hung up.


I was not used to cars. I have been in a few, occasionally in my mom’s Mercedes when I was a child, and I have been in a few cabs, but nothing more than that.

So, my aunt had to forgive me if I was shifting in my seat too much, trying to adjust to the leather.

“Nice car,” I commented as we drove past buildings and street signs. The heavy downpour had fizzled just a little, but visibility was still a difficulty.

My aunt didn’t reply. Instead, she turned up the music and concentrated on the road. I noticed the gesture as a sign of her not wanting to have a conversation, but I continued trying, hoping I could establish some sort of connection with my aunt.

Katherine Hill was the youngest sibling of two, my mom being the eldest. I knew a little about her from overhearing phone calls from my mother’s office. She worked as a lawyer in one of those fancy law firms, and she had been recently married to a man of wealth and stature. There were many nights where my mom had stayed up, talking animatedly on the phone about my aunt’s grand wedding.

Of course, I hadn’t been invited.

“You listen to pop?” I commented when a Camila Cabello tune started playing.

My aunt continued driving.

“How’s marriage life going?” I tried one more time, feeling more and more dejected as seconds agonizingly ticked by.

“James,” my aunt sighed exactly like how she did on the phone. “We have a few hours’ drive, and I need to focus. Could you just stop talking for a few minutes?”

Although I haven’t been on many car rides, I was certain that this particular one would be the longest one in my life.

Hours ticked by, and by the time we drove back to my mom’s place, the weather was clear.

“Thank you,” I muttered as I exited the vehicle.

My aunt responded with the same energy. “Lucky, I needed to be in town for the weekend or I wouldn’t have generously driven you here.”

With that cold, parting comment, she drove off, leaving me thinking about why everyone hated me. Was it just because of my nerdy, pathetic appearance?

I had never done anything particularly bad in my life, so what had I done to deserve such a treatment, especially from my own family?

I walked towards the empty lift and ascended towards the sixth floor, back towards my personal hell. Even though the sun was set high and birds were singing outside, my insides felt cold and bitter. As I trudged towards familiar hallways and signs, I couldn’t help but feel the deep, dark despair of utter loneliness.

My mother was waiting for me as I entered the apartment.

“Why did you call Katherine?” she demanded, folding her arms on top of her breasts. They seemed extra large today.

“I called you first,” I said, trying to walk past her, but my mother blocked my way. “The train station was shut down and—”

“Then pay for a cab or stay the night there? Why do you have to busy my sister?” Her voice grew in venom, and she started waving her arms. “Do you know how far the drive from there to here is? Do you know how busy Katherine is with her job? She didn’t need to waste time sending you here. Honestly, I don’t even know why she bothered with you.”

I was seething with anger underneath, but I tried my best to stay calm. Arguing with my mother was like bouncing a ping pong against a brick wall.

“I didn’t have money for a taxi,” I explained, feeling my chest bubble with rage. “And staying overnight at a motel in that area was too risky. I can’t afford a hotel.”

*Keep calm, James. There is no point in blowing this up.*

“I can’t afford this. I can’t afford that.” My mother’s voice was humorously low, doing a mock impression of me. Then she grew serious, her brows furrowing and her arms tightening around her chest. “Why can’t you afford anything? Why can’t you be a responsible adult for once and get a job.”

“I have a job!” I didn’t mean to shout, but I could only hold my anger in for so long. “I’m trying to earn money for myself!”

My mother’s glare was vicious. “Do not raise your tone at me, young man. You’re clearly not earning enough money. There’s twenty-four hours in a day and you can most definitely handle working more than one job. All I see you doing is being glued to that iPad device.”

I raised my hands in the air, my voice getting even louder. “Why can’t you understand me for once? Why can’t you see I’m trying my best?”

“Understand you? Your best? I didn’t raise you up to be a man-child. If that’s your best, you might as well not even try.”

“But you didn’t raise me up at all,” I countered, balling my hands into fists. “You were barely there.”

“James!” My name lashed out from her lips like a whip.

A warning. When I was a kid and ignored her warnings, a belt would soon appear in her hands.

I knew better than to argue with her, but all the emotions I had stuffed inside me over the past few days broke through my inner walls.

“You’re a terrible mother!” I screamed at her. Fear and uncertainty came along with the words. I had never talked to my mom like this before. But I couldn’t stop myself. More words leapt from my throat. “You raised me up like shit and then expect me to survive on my own! I’m doing everything I can to deal with the shitty life you have given me! Look at all the other moms! They care about their children. They don’t go around abandoning them. You—”

“Abandon?” Her words were overflowing with bitter poison, and her green eyes cut into mine. I started talking over her, but realized it was futile. “Abandon? When have I abandoned you? Look at where you are right now. Whose place are you living in? You—” She inhaled sharply to steady herself, but I could still see her shaking with rage. “You know what? Get out! I don’t want to see your pathetic face ever again.”

“GO!” she shouted and pointed towards the door. “Pack your bags and get the hell out!”

I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there, staring at my mother as my entire life unraveled around me.

“What are you waiting for?” she stomped a foot on the ground and jerked a finger towards my room. “Pack your bags and fucking go, you waste of life!”

Waste of life?

Even though my mother was uncaring and cruel beyond means, she had never directly told me I was complete garbage. She had only treated me as if I were one.

Another foot stomp. “GO!”

Slowly, I turned away and walked towards my room.

“Make sure you leave nothing behind,” my mother hissed out behind me. “If you do, I’m auctioning them away.”

My mother was really kicking me out of the house. She was disowning me. Where would I go? I still had loans to pay and only enough money to survive for a couple of months, if that.

I knew I was done for.

I started tossing everything into a bundle on my bed. There was no way I could carry everything. I had books, a laptop, my Kindle, my clothes… and only one piece of luggage. I had to figure out a way to fit all of them together.

I looked towards my school bag. It was worn out and not particularly large, but I figured I could cramp my clothing inside. Walking towards my desk, I lifted my school bag up and almost immediately dropped it back down in shock.

My backpack. It was ice cold.

Opening it in confusion, I understood why.

The jade.

The stone sat in a dark corner inside my bag. Hesitantly, I reached inside and grabbed it, grimacing at how chilly it felt to the touch.

Why was it so cold? It didn’t make sense.

I heard footsteps behind me and whirled around.

“What the fuck are you doing?” my mother screeched, thundering into my room. She was almost baring her teeth at me. “You’re supposed to be—”

“Mother?” I asked slowly, watching the impression on her face turn from ferocity to… no expression at all. She was staring at the jade in my hands with a blank face.

“It’s a jade,” I told her, feeling the need to explain. Maybe she had never seen one before. I held up the stone so she could see it fully.

“It’s just a jade stone,” I repeated.

She didn’t reply. Her hands fell limp against her sides and her rosy lips opened ajar.

“Mother?” I said again, waving my other hand across her face, prodding signs of life.

No reaction.

Suddenly, I gasped.

The jade… It was becoming warm! I looked at the stone in confused horror as its icy surface became warmer and warmer until it felt like it had been under the sun for far too long.

The strange lady I met yesterday came to mind.

*“Don’t worry,” she had said. “This one hasn’t claimed a soul, so that’s why it’s cold.”*

Souls. Was… the jade claiming my mother’s soul?

I shook my head and almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of the thought. Of course, that wasn’t happening, but why was my mother just standing there like a zombie?

Just as I was thinking that, my mother moved. I thought I saw her jerk slightly, as if a lightning bolt had struck her.

The jade grew warmer still.

“Mother?” I called for her once more. This time, she replied.


Her voice… It wasn’t her normal shrill, annoyed voice whenever she was speaking to me. Instead, she replied in a monotone, the pitch completely flat.

“Mother…” I said wearily. Her gaze was still fixated on the gem. “Are… are you okay?”

Another monotonous reply. This time, it was instant.


“Then why…” I gestured to her. “Then why are you acting like this?”

She didn’t reply. My mother’s blank gaze was following the stone as I moved it around.

“Uh,” I said awkwardly, moving the stone around some more. I moved the stone to my left, her head turned to the left. I moved the jade to my right and her green eyes cut to the right.

Then I moved it behind me, out of her sight, and her entire expression morphed instantly. From looking completely entranced, she went back to fuming with rage.

Her brows furrowed, and when she started talking, the monotone was gone.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked at me, her arms moving in motion again. She jabbed a fingernail towards me. “You’re supposed to be packing. Do you think I was joking when I told you to get out? I wasn’t. So, get the fuck out before I call the police.”

I must have looked confused because she grew more erratic.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? Did you suddenly turn deaf? If you’re not packing right this instant, I will—”

I watched in amazement when my mother became still again, her arms falling limp by her sides and all the tense muscles on her face instantly relaxing. Her eyes glued themselves to the jade after I had brought it back into view.

*This cannot be. Was… was the crazy lady actually serious about this stone? What had she called it? The stone of… the stone of control?*

It was crazy and nonsensical, but I was starting to believe all the lady’s crazy rants. I mean, the proof was right in front of me. There is no way my mother was doing all this as an act.

The stone of control… did that mean I could control her?

I wanted to test the theory out.

“Mother,” I said slowly, feeling a sudden burst of flame within me, like a beam of hope. “Lift your right hand up.”

Even though I had half expected her to obey, I almost jumped back in shock when my mother actually raised her right hand.

“Put your hand back down now,” I told her, and the result was instant. Her right hand dropped back to her sides.

“Oh, my god.” The words left my throat in a hurried hush. I couldn’t believe it. My mom was *really* doing what I was telling her to do.

This must be a dream. I pinched myself using my other hand, just to make sure I wasn’t in some kind of strange wet dream.

When I had confirmed I wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating, I glanced down and saw the tent that had formed under my pants. Watching my mother obeying me was such a strange sensation… it felt so erotic… so hot.

I needed to experiment some more.

“Mother,” I called to her, the words formulating in my mind. I was going to test out the impossible, even if her obeying me was already ridiculous. “You’re going to forget about our argument.”

I didn’t expect her to reply, but she did anyway.

“Yes.” Her voice was back to a low monotone.

I hid the gem behind my back, and my mother came to life.

She blinked once, twice. Three times. Then she looked around and a frown appeared on her face.

“What am I doing here?” she asked, confusion visible in her voice. Her eyes snapped towards me, and her frown deepened. “James, what the hell are you doing there? Why am I in your room?”

Oh, my fucking god.

“I don’t know, Mother,” I replied, my voice higher than normal. Feeling so damn giddy and excited, I redirected the question back to her. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t play games with me, young man,” she snapped. “Now, you better—”

Her words trailed off when the jade came back into her view. I started laughing hysterically, jumping up and down like a madman.

“This cannot be real,” I said, not bothering to contain my excitement. I stopped jumping and looked at my mother. Holy crap. I couldn’t remember exactly what the lady from the stall had told me, only bits and pieces. But hadn’t she mentioned I could implant commands into her?

Time to test it out. Anticipation flared within me. I had the feeling that my life was going to be changed forever.

“Mother,” I began. What I was going to say was going to have me killed if my mom was actually acting this whole time. But, with all the craziness happening within the past few minutes, I was going to risk it all and cross boundaries. “Take off your clothes.”

A monotonous reply. “Yes.”

Then she did it. My eyes were wide, almost bulging out from their socket as I stood there and watched my mother slowly strip away her clothes. She had been in her work clothes since she had to work for a half-day.

As if in a daze, my mother took off her black blazer and tossed it to the ground. Then came off her blouse, revealing more skin than I have ever seen from her before. Her breasts were so big and hung nicely, only being restricted from full viewing by a black, laced bra.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my breaths becoming caught in my throat when, without a remorse of hesitation, my mother pulled down her pencil skirt and revealing matching black, laced panties.

I was rock fucking hard by then, seeing my mother in just underwear, but what came next was a literal wet dream. Her bra came off first and her big breasts popped out, jiggling slightly, nipples hard, and then the last article of clothing came off, revealing a shaven pussy.

The words came out of me slowly.

“Holy fuck.”