The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Harry was a real estate agent, and from the moment he saw the family at the open house, he knew he didn’t want to sell them this simple suburban property—he wanted to sell them the Tesseric house. The parents were rich enough to buy it—newly married, both on their second marriage, willing to be guided by his advice.

But it was the daughters that got his attention—two step-sisters, Bailey and Skyla, one with blonde hair and one with hair dyed Jezebel-red, both of them bratty, argumentative, spoilt, and with the bodies of born fuckdolls. They spent the whole tour of that first house fighting cattily with each other and whining that they wanted to go home.

So he made an appointment for them to see the Tesseric house, a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of town.

The parents demurred, saying they could never afford a mansion, but Harry told them it was going cheap—it had been vacant since the Tesseric sisters died, and their extreme Christian decor had deterred buyers. But with a little renovation, a smart buyer could have a mansion on a three-bedroom budget.

The family went to look, and they loved it, and less than two weeks later contracts were signed and the house was theirs. They made enquiries about the Tesseric sisters, and Harry said no more than that they had been “quite religious”.

He knew the full story, of course. Old Man Tesseric had raised the sisters on a very particular brand of Catholicism, with a strong focus on “sisterly love”. They had been raised as both sisters and lovers, trained to spend their days entwined in incestuous lesbian sex for the entertainment of their father and his friends. They felt intense shame for their behaviour, but had been conditioned to be unable to control their sexual urges for each other. When their father had died, the girls had turned to prostitution, driven by a need for men to see and approve of their incest, fucking a steady parade of strangers for money until their early death in a car accident.

Harry had tried to sell the property before, but buyers with knowledge of the background had said the place was haunted. They said they could hear the girls’ slutty whisperings in their heads at night. Harry thought if anyone deserved to be haunted by slutty ghosts, it was the two eminently rapeable step-sisters of this family.

After the sale, Harry offered to supervise the renovations for the family, and they agreed. He made a tidy profit on the deal, but the real bonus was his ability to control the household. He contrived to keep several of the bedrooms unusable for the first three months the family lived there, forcing the sisters to share a bedroom—and, as it turned out, a bed. He arranged for regular interruptions to the hot water and suggested to the parents that the sisters should shower together to save hot water, to which the parents agreed (much to the sisters’ outrage).

Under the guise of renovations, he installed tiny cameras throughout the house, so he could see if the sisters truly would respond to any haunting. He was not disappointed. Over the first few nights he watched their sleep grow disturbed, their lips moving as they dozed as if having conversations with voices only they could hear. He watched Skyla moan softly in her sleep on the fourth night, building to what appeared to be an orgasm that woke her, blushing. He watched Bailey come awake on the sixth night, and movement occur under the covers that he realised was Bailey surreptitiously masturbating as she looked at her sister’s sleeping face.

He watched them in the shower. At first they were blushing, angry at having to shower together, standoffish. After a few days they relaxed. He noticed that they began to take a little longer to wash, taking extra time to rub between their legs and squeeze their tits. More and more often they would openly watch each other.

On the seventh day, Skyla accidentally orgasmed while rubbing her pussy and staring at Bailey’s tits. Both girls blushed and said nothing about it, but the next day Bailey offered to wash Skyla’s breasts for her, and all it took was a few seconds of that before the sisters were passionately kissing each other and grinding their thighs into each other’s cunts. They ended up fleeing the shower, barely wrapped in towels, back to their bedroom so they could roll on the bed, wet and nude, passionately tongue kissing, their tits crushed between them, their fingers in each other’s fuckholes, until both girls had orgasmed loudly.

Afterwards, their guilt and shame were a beautiful thing to see. They didn’t know why they had done what they had done. Neither girl considered herself a lesbian, and certainly not an incestuous one. And, Harry wondered, had the ghosts been whispering other things in their ears? Heightening their sense of shame and guilt about their own desires? Telling them it was sinful to lust after your sister; telling them that sluts would be raped by Satan in Hell? Harry thought maybe they had.

They tried to avoid repeating the incident, but they didn’t have a chance. They fucked again in bed that night. Skyla had a dildo, and they took turns using it on each other’s pussies. The next morning Bailey tried to restrain herself and say there would be no more sex—so Skyla raped her, holding Bailey down and licking her cunt till it was wet, then dildoing Bailey’s cunt and ass until she had orgasmed from both holes, and then riding Bailey’s face and forcing Bailey to lick her cunt while she pinched at Bailey’s clit and nipples. What Harry loved best about all this was that Skyla was crying as she did it. She didn’t know why she was raping her step-sister, but she knew it was wrong, and she couldn’t help herself.

When next Harry visited the house, the sisters were openly—if blushingly—holding hands. They tongue kissed each other in public from time to time—tongues extended like the fuckdolls they were, to make their kiss more slutty and visible. He caught a glimpse under Bailey’s short skirt as the girls kissed and realised that neither were wearing panties.

The parents spoke to Harry about it in private during that visit, and confessed the girls were behaving like incestuous sluts. “They’re sisters,” the mother said. “They can’t be girlfriends. What am I supposed to do?”

“Discipline is the answer,” said Harry. “For sexual behaviour, the punishment needs to be applied to the erogenous zones. Have you tried taking a belt to their breasts and pussies?”

Harry was rewarded the very next day on his surveillance of the video when he watched the parents come home from an outing to discover both step-sisters naked on the living room floor, desperately licking out each other’s snatches. The parents pulled the girls apart—the father grabbing Skyla’s red hair and dragging her, the mother pulling Bailey by her spread legs. The girls sobbed and tried to cover their nakedness, but the father took off his belt and began to whip Bailey between her spread legs, right on her pussy, as Bailey’s step-mother held Bailey’s legs apart. Then the mother moved to Skyla and pulled her into a kneeling position, hands behind her back, so the father could whip his step-daughter across the tits.

By the end, the father had a raging erection. He tried to cover it, awkwardly, but the mother said, “It’s okay. They deserve it. You teach my daughter, and I teach yours?”

He nodded, and let her extract his cock from his pants. Then he looked at Skyla, who was crying, on all fours, trying to crawl away, her bruised tits swinging beneath her. He walked over to her, wrapped his belt around her neck as a kind of leash, sank to his knees behind her, and pushed his cock into her wet pussy even as he pulled tightly on the leash. Skyla squeaked, and clawed at the belt, as her stepfather began to vigorously rape her.

Meanwhile the mother went to Bailey, pulling her panties down from under her skirt as she went and leaving them on the floor. Bailey was barely paying attention to what was going on, clutching at her bruised pussy, so her step-mother grabbed her by the hair, lifted her own skirt, and guided Bailey’s mouth to her dripping wet cunt. Bailey struggled a bit, but then began to obediently lick. “Good girl,” said the mother, sighing happily. “If you’re going to be an incestuous lesbian slut, it’s just mean to be willing to fuck your sister but not your mother. When your father’s done with Skyla, you can lick her pussy clean too.”

Harry marked the footage to save. He had no intention of stopping the parents’ fun, but he thought with this on tape he could ensure that he could have his own turn with the newly-lesbian sisters. And he could raise the question of what his share of the profit would be once the parents began whoring the girls out...

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