Mind Controlled By Voodoo Doll

Do not read this if you expect a complete story.

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Chapter 1: Uncle Tests Voodoo Doll On Mother-Daughter Duo

That woman was clear: I don't own the doll; it merely agrees to serve me for the time being. If I fail to sate its appetite, it'll either leave or... Well, the priestess wasn't very clear about the worst effects, but she was blunt enough to make me understand I should never let it go hungry.

I get on the train, scan my ticket, and sit down. I look at the tiny doll in my hand. It looks so harmless, like a child's toy. I must look mad, scrutinizing it like that.

In front of me, two women exchange amused glances, alternating between looking at me and looking at each other. I wish I could be angry at their silent mocking, but what can I say? I do look crazy.

"Maybe it's for his child or something!" One of the women whispers, gently elbowing the other.

She's definitely younger than her friend, about 18 years old, if I had to guess. She's wearing a school uniform from a high school I recognize. A private one, brimming with children of politicians and magnates.

Blonde, pale, pretty. Her uniform is typically chaste, but I can tell the skirt has been shortened ever-so-slightly. Her ample chest curves the school's badge, making it look stretched and off-center. Her legs are crossed, her thick thighs raising the skirt enough to allow me a glance at her lacy panties. White. Skimpy. Tanga.

"Look at the way he's squeezing that weird-looking thing! Clearly, he's off his rocker!" The older one, mid-thirties and snobbish, says. Not even in a whisper. She avoids my gaze, but she has no problem gawking at the doll in my hand.

She's slightly taller than the young woman, with brown hair and a few wrinkles scattered on her otherwise youthful face. A fancy hairdo, designer clothes, diamond jewelry. She clearly cares about looking expensive and has the money to back it up.

"Shhh!" The teen shushes the other woman. "Not so loud!"

The older bitch just laughs.

My blood boils. She reminds me of my snotty brother. I bet she, too, got her money from scamming and stealing. I bet... No. I know she, too, has escaped her comeuppance for too long.

I try to remember the priestess's instruction. I look at the woman, point the voodoo doll at her, and think. My mind swarms with images of the woman undressing herself, tearing her extravagant top right off her body. Then I fold the doll's arms around its chest and mimic my thoughts.

"Ouch!" The woman yelps as her palms slap against her tits. "What the hell?"

"Are you... alright?" The younger one asks.

"Y-Yeah... Just, uhm, my arms moved on their own."

The blonde puts her hand on her friend's thigh and gently caresses her knee, whispering something about a medical appointment. I take the opportunity and focus on the younger one.

My mind aligns with the doll, a shiver down my spine. It's strange, the way it seems to know what I want. It's as if the thing wants to guide me through.

Staring at the girl's hand, I stretch the doll's arm in the same position as hers, then I move it back and the blonde's hand is forced to follow, invading the inner thigh of her bitchy friend.

"K-Katie?!" The bitch protests as Katie unwillingly hitches the skirt and plants her hand between the bitch's legs.

"I-I don't k-"

The doll silently instructs me to put my thumb over its mouth. My mind feels invaded by its words, but nevertheless, I follow its advice. The second my finger covers the felt, the girl turns quiet. She doesn't say anything, nor does she try. Just pure silence from her, not even mutters. Her expression is distressed, yes, but her lips are sealed and her body is still.

Perfect.

I grab the doll's head and tilt it forward. Immediately, Katie's face is thrown into the older woman's tits.

"Katie? What are you doing?"

I focus my eyes on the bitch. Instantly, I feel the doll align with her body. Grabbing its felt arms, I thrust its hands forward and the bitch mimics it. I force her to wrap her arms around Katie's head in a hug. The blonde's face so tightly squeezed by the older woman's tits.

"What's going on?" The bitch asks. She doesn't look at me anymore, but if she did, she'd realize who is to blame.

Katie hasn't moved yet. The doll feels my question and, without a voice, it plants a thought in my head. My victims will remain in the same position if I don't sever the connection between their bodies and the doll.

A smirk on my face, I turn my sights back on the young woman. I take the thumb off her lips. Off its lips. Well, in a way, the doll's body is the same as hers. No point in setting them apart when they're both under my control.

"Mommy! I'm-" Katie's muffled yells ring out as her lips caress the woman's tits.

Oh? Mother and daughter? Hah, that's the most depraved bonding activity I could think of. Regardless, I won't stop. The rich cunt deserves some payback.

I focus on the mother and force her to take her top off. She squeals as her hands move on their own, but the top still comes undone, falling over Katie's face. Aligning with the girl, I grab the doll's head and lift it out of her mom's tits.

I feel a voiceless whisper in the back of my head, beckoning me to stop and listen. The doll's conscience forces its way inside mine. In quick, overwhelming bouts, it teaches me how to control both at the same time.

I snap out of its influence after a second, but it feels like a year. It wields more power than I expected, but it's black magic, after all. I wasn't expecting it to be malleable.

I steady my mind and focus on both women, picturing a sloppy make out session where both of their tongues fight for dominance. I imagine the two locked in a passionate embrace, their hands running over the other's body, caressing, groping, pinching. Eyes and mind equally empty.

Before I can finish, I'm pulled out of my mind palace by Katie's sudden movements as she pounces on her mother. Her hands wrap around the older woman's back, unhooking her bra. Pushing their tits together, soft moans erupt from their interlocked mouths. Katie bites her mom's bottom lip and the bitch sucks her daughter's tongue, their hands wildly fondling each other's bodies.

I really did this. I willed this debauched display into existence with nothing but a voodoo doll. I unzip my pants and start stroking myself. Why wouldn't I get to enjoy this too?

The doll feels my wants, every single desire running through my mind is laid out before it and I think I feel its... happiness. Either way, it turns my fantasies into reality. The bitch grabs Katie's sweater and pulls it off, then rips her button-up shirt open. The buttons pop off all over the train and a loud tearing sound pierces the air.

Katie's bra matches her panties, barely managing to envelop her massive tits. It matters not, because with one swift move, the bitch reaches behind her daughter and undoes it, throwing it at my feet.

Neither seems to realize I'm here, but that doesn't stop them from throwing their skirts in my direction, too. Before I know it, the only thing on their bodies is panties.

"Mghmm..." A shared moan resounds through the train as their nipples press into each other, squeezing each other wantonly. Knees hit the cushioned seat when the two women kneel on the bench to allow me a better look at their naked, sweaty bodies.

Katie paws at her mom's ass, ready to tear her panties the way her mother tore her shirt. The bitch's hands are caressing her daughter's back while her tongue hangs out, too busy filling Katie's mouth to grope her flesh.

My cock twitches with each kiss that the women share. It's easy to imagine it between their lips or even better, between the tight walls of their throats. I prefer waiting, though. I prefer easing myself into this amazing power.

Each thought that passes through my mind shifts into the fabric of reality. Katie tears her mom's panties clean off, throwing the ruined fabric aside. I bend down to grab it as a souvenir, the first piece of memorabilia.

The bitch wastes no time doing the same, grabbing the sides of Katie's cute panties and pulling with all her might. Again, the underwear is ruined and at my feet, waiting to join my collection.

With their pussies exposed, the whores get bolder, exactly how I want them. Katie's hand slides between her mom's legs, stroking her surprisingly taut pussy. The other mirrors her daughter's movements, rubbing in tandem while a symphony of wet sounds and moans echoes through the train.

Their gazes are empty, their pupils swallowing the color in their eyes. With their mouths wide open and blank expressions, the sluts rub each other's pussies in public. Nothing is stopping anyone from observing the show, but the few people here are not paying attention.

Loud, imposing steps fill the train. I look to the side and see the ticket inspector approaching with his eyes buried in his phone. Finally!

"Tickets? Oh-" His face turns a vivid red the second he notices the two naked women kissing and caressing each other. He stammers and mutters a few warnings, but his heart isn't into it. "M-Madams, I must demand you s-stop!"

His cock is hard in his denim pants, trying to escape.

Neither Katie nor the bitch cares, though. My mind brushes over their movements, demanding they increase their pace, and naturally, they obey. Katie's hand is brutal and swift, working on her mother's cunt with the intensity of a tornado. Her fingers sway back and forth on her pussy lips, stretching apart the older woman.

The bitch's pace is slower, tickling her daughter with soft, slow movements. It's clear that she hasn't felt this type of pleasure in a while. Her defenses are down, her pussy aches, and though she's forced to stroke Katie's pussy, she can barely manage to sit up. Her cunt throbs and her legs shake in a violent orgasm, barely aware of where (and who) she is.

"Ma'am! Please!" The inspector's words are loud enough to attract the attention of other passengers.

Several pairs of curious eyes turn to them. An elderly couple is seated the closest, both dressed in the elegant vestige of a bygone era. The wife, wearing a simple, chaste dress that covers every inch of the skin below the neck, looks outraged as she observes the two women locked in an incestuous exchange of pleasure. The husband, wearing a button-up shirt and a wool blazer, doesn't look as angry though. His wide eyes glued onto the sluts and his mouth hanging open, the tiniest trail of saliva dripping out.

Katie continues to stroke her mom's cunt, but the older one stops. The bitch's body convulses, her milky tits jiggling as she surrenders to the orgasm. The voodoo doll seems pleased, though I don't know how I can tell. I take my eyes off the mother-daughter duo to look at the piece of felt in my hand, and for a second, it seems to praise me. Goosebumps.

Another couple, this one younger, focuses on the girls. The woman is thin and pretty, with a flat chest and pale skin. Full of tattoos, her hair dyed a bright purple, and piercings all over her face. She bites her lip, obviously turned on by the pussy rubbing, as her hand slides between her jeans-clad legs. The boyfriend looks slightly older, about my age, full of wrinkles. His pleased expression is subtler, but he's just as horny as his girlfriend.

The doll rewards me, I think. It unsettles me the way it can rummage through my mind and steal my thoughts, but not enough to make me sacrifice this power. It aligns its mind with Katie's and forces her to lower her face into her mom's tits. I watch in awe as Katie takes the bitch's nipple and traps it between her pink lips, sucking at it like she's searching for milk.

A trail of white liquid trickles down Katie's chin. I'll be damned, the bitch is lactating! Offering her daughter a healthy meal, the older slut just moans, with nothing behind her eyes except pure, mind-breaking lust.

Another pair of eyes falls on them, or maybe I've just noticed them now. A man in his 20s observes the show as he stealthily strokes his erection. Next to him is an older woman who looks remarkably like him, likely his mother, looking out the window to avert his gaze. Or mine.

Katie hungrily suckles at her mom's areola, swallowing every drop of milk. She stops stroking her mother, instead focusing on her own hungry pussy. She plays with herself while her lips remain wrapped around her mother's swollen nipples.

The last one to acknowledge the sluts humiliating themselves for our entertainment is a young woman, 18 or so, wearing a school uniform. Inspecting the badge on her chest closely, I realize she goes to the same school as Katie. The girl is chesty, but nowhere near as big as the whores in front of me, but yet again, nothing compares to the cow udders adorning these sluts.

Katie's hands caress her own body, one furiously working on her cunt, and the other pinching her nipples. Her hips involuntarily thrust forward with each stroke, getting closer and closer to cumming. Despite her body getting weaker, she doesn't stop sucking her mother's tits.

From the corner of my eye, I see the schoolgirl pull out her phone and point it at the two. Her angle doesn't seem to be recording my face, so I just let her be.

Katie finally succumbs to her own fondling. Her spine bends as her mother wraps her arms around her and pulls her into a kiss. The teen's legs quiver and she falls on her mother. The two women tumble to the floor, with Katie on top and the bitch under. Heavy panting, they remain down, surrounded by filth, as their cunts fuel the doll.

It smiles at me, though it has no mouth. It speaks to me, though it has no vocal cords. And it releases the two from under its spell.

"W-WHAT THE FUCK?!" The bitch pushes her daughter off her and grabs her clothes. She searches for her bra and panties, but they're buried in the depths of my suitcase. Increasingly more frantic, she gets on all fours and looks under, but when she looks around and notices several intent eyes on her, the bitch's face reddens like a ripe apple and she gives up.

Katie realizes there's no chance of finding her underwear either, so the two women throw their tops and skirts onto their bodies and pretend nothing happened.

With antsy movements, they clumsily dress themselves, but the lack of panties makes them uncomfortable. Their taut cunts drip out of their skirts, coating the train's floor in their cum. Their braless tits shift against the harsh material of their shirts, their nipples poking through the fabric. It looks agonizing and their face, red and puffy, are enough to betray their true feelings. Pure, utter humiliation.

The other passengers look at them, some boldly facing them, others stealing glances. The old man is gawking, a large stain in the middle of his crotch, while his wife shakes her head and mutters prayers. The woman with dyed hair winks at them, her boyfriend mimics lewd acts with his tongue.

Katie sees this, her eyes full of tears and her posture stiff, hiding her covered crotch with her hands. Her mother pretends not to see.

Just as the bitch turns to me and her mouth opens to say something, the train stops and the doors open. Without a word, Katie rushes for the exit, and though the bitch wants to interrogate me, she opts to follow her daughter.

I'm left inside. This isn't my station, after all.

A man wearing a personal driver's uniform approaches the two. With a formal tone, he greets both, slightly unsettled by the humiliated expressions etched onto the women's faces.

"Mrs. Durant! How was your trip? Did you enjoy the sea view?" He starts.

"J-Just show me where you parked!"

The man doesn't say anything when she yells in his face. He quietly points to the west and leads the women out of view.

Durant, huh? The young one did look familiar. She has Elroy's eyes. If she truly is my brother's daughter, I can't miss this opportunity.

I rush off the train at a speed I didn't know I was capable of. I follow them to a parking lot and hide behind a shabby car. I silently watch as they get into a fancy Rolls-Royce and before they can take off, I slap a location tracker under the car.

The Rolls-Royce disappears into the distance as my phone buzzes, confirming the tracker is working. A smile curls at the edges of my mouth.

Something runs down my spine and makes me shudder. I look at the doll nestled underneath Katie's panties, inside my suitcase. I could've sworn I tucked the panties away in a hidden pocket, but somehow, they've managed to get on top. The doll's hands are crossed over its felt, as if hugging the crotch of the panties.

It shouldn't be able to move on its own, the priestess assured me it won't. Her words still ring in my head, her instructions of how to destroy the doll if shit hits the fan, but if I do, that's it... My chance at getting revenge, the very reason I got it... Gone.

My phone buzzes again, this time an address flashes on the screen. I waste no time searching for the owner of the fancy mansion covering my screen and there he is, my brother, with his thieving, shit-eating grin. A headshot of his pops up, along with a net worth estimation of over ten million dollars.

So that was his daughter, and the bitch was probably his wife. Well, well, well... Maybe this whole thing will be worth it.