You plan to use Tracey so hard that you can forget about your mom

You smile and brush a stray hair back from her temple with your fingertips. “How do you feel about me? I mean, it’s not every day that a girl who thought she was a lesbian comes to my room and lets me undress her. Tell me how you really feel about me.” You unzip her skirt and let it drop around her ankles.

Tracey hesitates, looking like she’s searching for words, “I… love you. I lust for you, too. I want to be with you and make you happy for the rest of my life. I get wet when I see you, and even wetter when you touch me. I feel like… as long as it pleases you, you can do anything you want with me, and I’ll love it. ” There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as she says it. She must realize it’s a crazy thing to say to someone she just talked to for the first time yesterday, even as she’s saying it. “I can’t believe I just said all that out loud. It’s like, I didn’t even know it myself, until I thought about it just now. But… there’s something about you, Dave. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before, with anyone. It’s scary, but…” she swallows hard, “I get wet being scared by you, too,” she continues in a small voice.

You trace a fingertip lightly around her earlobe. She shivers and giggles. “I love that you told me all that. I want you to always tell me the truth, babe.” Then you realize that order might cause problems. “Anytime we’re alone, and no one else can hear, tell me the absolute truth. Other times, best to use your judgment about what’s fit for the public.” You chuckle, and she laughs with you.

The mostly naked girl nods. “Oh yeah! Can you imagine if I said something like that in front of my mom or something? Wow!”

You slide your hand down the front of Tracey’s panties. You can feel how slick her labia are, as your fingers stroke over them. You recall the degrading BDSM porn you watched last night, featuring the blonde model. It hadn’t been enough to put your mom out of your mind. That porn actress wasn’t as pretty as Tracey though, she wasn’t really in your room like Tracey is now, and she wasn’t under a spell to turn her into your obedient **** like Tracey is. You grin down at her. “You know, the things you said… they make you sound like a psycho submissive slut. Did you like it when your girlfriend took control? Did she used to bang you with a strap-on?”

She moans and grips your shoulders tightly for support, as her knees tremble from your touch on her pussy. She pants a little to get her breath to answer. You keep grinding your fingers on her vulva. “Oh! Some… Sometimes it was cool… if she got more aggressive… Ohhhh fuuuuuck… Mos- mostly… I initiated.” Her hips buck. “It wa- wasn’t like some… DAMN! Oh Damn! That feels good… like some bullshit lesbian porn… fuh…uh… uuuck… straight guy’s fantasy… about bull dyke dommes with strap-ons… or anything… MMMmmmmm… We were lovers. Equals.” She gasps out. Was she really looking down on you for having fantasies about two hot girls making out? While she's gushing on your fingers?

You drive your middle finger up inside her pussy. She is basically hanging off you now, as her legs buckle under her. You work your finger slowly in and out. “Oh,” you say, letting a hint of disappointment into your voice. “If you prefer a relationship of equals, we might not work out.” But you don’t stop thrusting your finger into her warm, wet slit, over and over.

She shakes her head vehemently. “NO! Fuck no! I don’t want…” her hips undulate, trying to hump against your thrusting finger, “to be your equal… NNnnghhhhh… Not with you! Never! I couldn’t be. Please don’t think that.” Her words tumble out in a panicked rush. Her hands clench harder on your shoulders. “It’s different with you. So different. I want to be… useful to you. Pleasing. But, now I feel… Ohhhhhh!... like it doesn’t matter what I want. Does it?” She looks up into your eyes.

You smile down at her. “Good girl,” you tell her. Then you growl low, “Now cum!” She lets out a strangled grunt. Her body tenses and warm juices flood over your hand.

“Ohhhh fuuuuck…” she groans.

You move your hand away from her pussy. Then pull her hands from their grip on your shoulders and lower her down to her knees in front of you. She kneels quietly, face down towards the floor, hands clasped together in front of her.

You comb your fingers back through her long, silky hair. “Show me you know your place. Kiss my feet,” you say in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice.

She nods and goes down to her elbows on the carpet. She lowers her face down and places a soft kiss on your sock. She pauses then, realizing that’s not right. She slides her fingers up your ankle and peels your sock down and off, then the other. Then she kisses the top of your bare foot. Her lips feel warm, soft, and moist on your skin. She moves to the other then, then back again. She leaves trails of small, wet, devotional kisses from your toes to your ankle then back. While she’s lavishing attention on your feet, you take your time pulling off your tee shirt, unbuckling your belt and opening your jeans. You suspect she would go on like that until you told her to stop, or she passed out from exhaustion. But you’re not really that interested in having your feet worshiped. This was just to put her in the right frame of mind.

You’ve had to accept that the spell is going to end up making you choose between fucking your own mom, or watching her go crazy. You grit your teeth. Well, you’re going to make all that worthwhile with Tracey. All the things that you could never do with your mom, you’re going to do with this servile little dyke cunt. You slip your belt from the loops on your jeans.