The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I had a great time in my first year of university. It was an opportunity to reinvent myself. For the first time, I got people to call me Ben instead of Benjy. I had beer for the first time; I was introduced to new films and new music; I had sex. It was, all in all, a fantastic year. But there’s always something to be said for coming home again.

I’d agreed with my friends that we’d go travelling in the summer, but that wasn’t for a couple of weeks so until then I was heading back to my parents’ house. I’d almost finished packing when my parents arrived in the Mercedes, and Mum immediately engulfed me in a big hug and kissed me on the cheek. Dad was rather more restrained, as usual, and stuck with a manly handshake.

I hadn’t seen them for months. Actually, I’d seen Mum more recently because she came to university on a couple of weekends to visit. Other than that, I hadn’t seen them since going home for Christmas. I hadn’t realised until now how much I missed them. My baby sister, Nellie, on the other hand… I was perfectly happy not having to put up with her all the way home.

While we were loading the boxes into the back of the car, I asked why Nellie hadn’t come with them.

“She’s revising for her end-of-year exams,” Mum told me. Sure she was, I thought to myself.

“Besides,” added Dad, “from the looks of it we’re going to be tight on space for all your stuff in the car as it is. She probably wouldn’t appreciate having a box on her knees the whole way home.”

“So she’s still at school?”

“For a few more weeks. High school terms are longer than university terms.”

Soon enough, my dorm room was empty and we were on the road. We talked all the way home, about everything from my travel plans to Dad’s job to Nellie’s schoolwork. I thought about Nellie. I wondered if she was really revising or whether that had been an excuse to have the house to herself for a day. I remembered her as a bit of a brat that way. When she was really young she was always pulling my hair and never got more than a “Nellie, it’s not nice to pull your brother’s hair”, but the one time I pulled hers, she’d bawled her eyes out and I was grounded for two days.

It was something of a surprise, therefore, when the first thing that happened when I got through the door was that she glomped me.

“Benjy! You’re back! I really missed you!”

Perhaps absence makes the heart grow fonder (just a little, though, I mean she was still my sister), because I couldn’t help but admit that I’d missed her too.

“You were gone for the whole year!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll visit more often next year.”

“Promise?” There were tears in her big blue eyes.

“I promise.”

“Good.”

I’d been so surprised by the tackle hug that I barely had a chance to see how much she’d changed since I’d been gone. For the rest of the afternoon I could barely think of anything else. Gone was the scrawny little kid I’d grown up with. Nellie had now matured and filled out into a very attractive young lady. She’d lost the braces and swapped her glasses for contacts. Her hair, while still blonde, was no longer her natural ashen shade (like Mum’s), but had been dyed a vibrant gold. When I met her, she was wearing skinny jeans that showed off her tight butt, and a white tank top that only hinted. With a certain amount of horror I realised that she’d blossomed into exactly the kind of girl – slim, subtly curvy, with big eyes and small, pouty lips – that I’d been chasing after all year. She probably had all the guys at school fawning over her.

I’m not sure what I’d have done if she’d continued to act all lovey-dovey towards me for the rest of the fortnight, but I needn’t have worried because that evening she was back to her old self.

“Hey, jerk, Mum says dinner’s ready and to get your butt downstairs.”

“Out of my room, you little snot! I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Loser.”

“Brat.”

Ah, it was good to be home.

“We should go out for a meal somewhere,” said Mum at dinner, “to celebrate us all being back under the same roof again.”

“Somewhere nice,” added Nellie. “I can wear my prom dress again!”

“How was prom? It was, what, last week?”

“Two weeks ago. It was okay. Kevin took me but we only danced once. But my dress is gorgeous! Mummy hasn’t let me wear it other than at prom.”

“What would you have done if it had got dirty or ripped?”

“I guess.”

“There’s a new place near my office,” said Dad. “I haven’t been but a few of the guys from work say it’s very nice.”

“Let’s give it a try.”

Nellie and Mum went all out for this meal. If Nellie was going to wear her prom dress, that meant Mum had to wear a dress too. And if the girls were wearing dresses, that meant Dad and I had to wear suits. I hated wearing my suit, and I had a mind to tease Nellie all evening for making me wear one. Naturally, Dad and I were ready long before either of the girls, so while kicking my heels waiting I thought of some ways I could needle Nellie during dinner without getting in trouble.

All of that went suddenly out of the window when she and Mum appeared at the top of the stairs. There was no way I could tease any girl that looked so fabulous, even if it was my sister.

Her prom dress was an ankle-length gown with a form-fitting bodice, held up by a pair of spaghetti strands over her shoulders. It perfectly accentuated her tiny waist and nascent curves. It was hot pink, and she wore bubble-gum pink lip gloss and pink eye shadow to match it, contrasting with her baby blue eyes. She always did love the colour pink, since she was a kid. Her golden hair had been teased into shoulder-length curls. Kevin was a damn fool for not dancing with her more than once, and I told her so, earning myself a thump on the arm.

Mum was wearing a royal blue off-the-shoulder gown, with a pair of pearl earrings. Mum was far curvier than Nellie, and the dress was cut to emphasise her bosom and hips. Dad gave Mum the requisite compliments, and then bundled us all into the car so that we wouldn’t miss our booking.

The first sign that the evening wasn’t going to go as planned was a notice outside the restaurant advertising live music. We hadn’t counted on that, but since we’d booked ahead it made sense to go in anyway and hope the music wasn’t too loud or distracting. The main room of the restaurant was large with mirrored walls and a great chandelier, and I wondered if it was a converted dance hall. One side of the room had been cleared away for a stage, but nobody was performing yet. We were seated by a smooth waiter with slick hair, who knew just how to flatter the girls without crossing the line. He showed us to a circular table; Dad sat to my left, Nellie to my right, and Mum straight across from me.

Service was quick and efficient, and no sooner had we chosen what to eat than we were giving our orders. We were brought our starters, finished them, and had the empty plates removed before things started to get really strange.

Until then, the stage in the corner of the room had been mostly empty. Someone (I didn’t see who) had set up some speakers, which started thrumming with a deep bass to no discernible rhythm, and a microphone. Finally, a Japanese man—probably about my age, with long hair and thick glasses—jumped onto the stage, grabbed the microphone and started singing.

Well, I say ‘singing’. The man was tone deaf and had no sense of rhythm. He was doing little more than reading the words loudly in his thick accent (and, I noticed, getting some of them wrong). He had no musical accompaniment or backing singers. I was impressed with myself for recognising the song almost immediately despite that.

Dad leaned over to me and asked,

“What is he doing?”

“He’s strangling Nelly is what he’s doing.”

“What?”

“Oh, not our Nellie. I mean the song. It’s Hot in Herre by a rapper called Nelly.”

“Ah!” said Dad dismissively, “Rap,” as if suddenly that explained everything.

By then the ‘singer’ was getting to the end of the first verse.

And as soon as he finished the first verse, he shouted,

“It’s getting hot in here! So take off all your clothes!”

Then he fell silent, but this was immediately followed by a susurrus of whispering from around the room. Mum and Nellie both muttered something under their breath, apparently disapproving, although I couldn’t hear exactly what.

The singer shouted again,

“It’s getting hot in here! So take off all your clothes!”

Again, he stopped after the one line, and again the room was filled with whispering, louder than before. Mum and Nellie muttered to themselves again. They both seemed very disconcerted by the man, so Dad waved over the waiter just as the singer launched into the second verse. (Thank God he used the radio edit lyrics.)

“Is there a problem, sir?” asked the waiter.

“Can we move to another room? I don’t like that man’s singing.”

“Are you sure, sir? He’s one of our most popular acts. Very well, I’ll see if I can find something, but I must warn you that we’re very booked up this evening.”

Once the waiter had bustled off, Dad and I turned back to the girls. Mom’s face had turned beet red and she was fanning herself with a hand.

“Are you okay, dear? You’re not having a, you know,” his voice dropped “hot flash, are you?”

Mum’s only response was to moan “Oh God” and fan herself faster. I was more surprised by Nellie. She was blushing furiously too, and she was breathing in short, sharp breaths. She was gripping the edge of the table with both hands, her knuckles white.

“Brat, what’s the matter? Nellie?”

“Shut up shut up!” she whispered, and clenched her eyes shut.

Just then, the singer reached the end of the second verse and once again he shouted the chorus at the top of his lungs.

“It’s getting hot in here! So take off all your clothes!”

The whispering that followed was louder still. And it was only the women in the room that were speaking. All of the women. Nellie slapped both hands over her mouth, but couldn’t stop herself saying the words. When the singer shouted the line next, the response from every female in the room was obvious.

“It’s getting hot in here! So take off all your clothes!”

“I am getting so hot! I wanna take my clothes off!” Mum was still just whispering it, but Nellie had blurted it out at regular volume. Hearing her, my own sister, say those words sent a thrill through me.

Mum was lying back against the chair, eyes closed. She had her fingers hooking into the top of her off-the-shoulder dress and was absent-mindedly tugging it down.

Nellie seemed to realise what was going on. I could see the fear in her eyes. She turned to me, grabbed me by the hand, and mouthed “Help me.” She was right, of course. Something was wrong, and we needed to get away from the singer.

“Mom, Dad, we’ve got to go! Right now!” And without waiting another moment, I dragged Nellie out of the room.

I didn’t look back, and I didn’t really know where I was going, but as long as I was taking Nellie away from the music it didn’t matter. To that end, I was successful, because soon enough the music faded into the distance and was replaced by the hustle and bustle of the kitchen downstairs. I’d lost track of Mum and Dad. Honestly, I didn’t know if they’d followed or even heard that we were leaving, but we couldn’t go back to check.

The restaurant was built like a maze, I realised, and we quickly got lost. Soon enough we came to a dead end, and decided that it made as much sense to catch our breath there as to keep looking. Unfortunately, we didn’t get the chance, because mere seconds after we stopped we were found by our waiter. Before he’d looked slick and smooth, but now there was an evil glint in his eye, and he looked smarmy.

He ignored me and advanced on Nellie.

“Hello there, pretty. It’s getting hot in here.”

She groaned “So hot…” and her words cut through me. It was hot, I realised, and so was she. My blood boiled. If the waiter tried to take her in the state she was in—and I’m sure he planned to—she would let him without a fight. It was up to me to stop him.

I stepped between them, arms outstretched, and said “Get away. She’s my sister.” Or, at least, that’s what I planned to say. The words that came out of my mouth, in a deep, throaty growl, were “Get away. She’s mine!”

The waiter regarded me, possibly weighing up whether I was a threat and whether it was worth the hassle trying to go through me. Evidently he decided it was not and walked off, sneering. “Jerk.”

“Jerk… Benjy… Help me…” I span around to face Nellie. One hand was rubbing her crotch through the front of her dress; the other had slipped in the front of her bustier and was massaging her breast. For a moment I almost had enough restraint to make her stop, but then she said “I’m getting so hot. Help me take my clothes off.”

In a second our bodies were mashing together, our tongues swirling around each other, and I had her pressed up against the wall as I hitched up her pink dress around her waist. She unclasped my belt, then hooked my fully erect cock out of my fly with her tiny fingers. I rubbed up and down against the soaking wet front of her panties, watching her moan in need.

“It’s getting hot in here,” I told her in a guttural voice, and when she moaned “So hot” in return I ripped the panties away and thrust my whole cock into her dripping snatch. I pounded her against the wall until she was screaming my name, at which point I shot my load and filled her with my spunk. It was the first time I’d had unprotected sex, but I couldn’t have cared less for the consequences. I was burning with desire for my sister, my sweet, bratty, baby sister, and all I could think about was fucking her senseless.

I pulled out and wiped my dick on the panties I still held in my hand. Then I watched for a moment as my cum leaked out of her pussy onto the floor. My cum. My sister. My slut. Mine. I wanted to see more. I had to see everything.

“It’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes.”

“I am getting so hot. I will take my clothes off.” And she reached behind her back and pulled down the zipper, letting the pink dress fall forwards off her naked, perky, pointy titties. Even without the words, I’d have been enflamed. Her tits were still developing, but already they were perky, with swollen areolae and pointed nipples. As soon as she’d stepped out of the dress (avoiding the puddle of cum on the floor), I was on her again, forcing my tongue into her mouth and squeezing her tits with both hands. She sucked on my tongue and I could taste her bubble gum lip gloss. I pinched her whole areolae between my thumbs and forefingers, tweaked them harder until she twitched and quivered. Her warm, soft hands were on my cock again, exploring every inch of it, smearing cum and pussy juice down its entire length.

“Get on your knees,” I told her, then pushed her down without waiting for a response. “Suck it.” And she did, with fervour. God, had she done this before or was there something in the music to make her so talented? Fuck, who cares? With her delicate hands she cupped and rubbed my balls as she took the head between her pink lips and popped it out of her cheek. Fuck! She licked the underside from the base to the tip, flicked her tongue over the slit and kissed her way down the side. I would have liked to say I came in her mouth or on her chest or something, but for that first blowjob I missed her entirely and shot my load over her shoulder onto the wall.

I was ready to collapse, but Nellie wasn’t having that. Still stroking my cock, she whispered “So hot” and suddenly I was erect and ready to go again. I thrust my hips forward and she sucked me into her mouth, her pink lips moving rhythmically up and down the shaft. Sometimes she’d swirl her tongue all the way around my head; sometimes she’d take me as deep as she could—she could take about half of the shaft before the tip of my dick hit the back of her throat, at which point she pulled back.

While she was slurping around my head, I grunted “It’s getting hot in here.”

She shivered from her butt to the top of her head, popped my dick out of her mouth and huskily agreed “So hot” with a naughty grin.

Again, I lost control. Both of my hands grabbed her head and pulled her back onto my cock. She wasn’t giving me a blowjob any more. Now I was fucking her face, humping her pretty mouth with wild abandon.

“It’s getting hot in here,” I growled again, and watched her futile attempts to pull away. “It’s getting hot in here.” I could feel her tongue trying to make the words, but my cock gagged her completely, and still I was thrusting into her. I hit the back of her mouth and forced my dick even deeper, sliding into her throat, not caring whether she choked or not.

By then, she didn’t care either. I was repeating the phrase like a mantra, in time with my thrusting.

“It’s getting hot in here. It’s getting hot in here. It’s getting hot in here.”

I could see it in her eyes. Arousal, untamed; brief moments of panic; then slowly her eyes glazed over, drooped, until she was sucking me and rubbing her own pussy without a single thought in her head. By the time I was ready to cum, her eyes were lidded and her expression was completely blank, devoid of any awareness of the world around her.

“It’s. Getting. Hot. In. Here!”

I came in her mouth, spurting rope after rope onto her tongue. I withdrew my dick and she just knelt there, slack-jawed, watching me with glassy eyes. I could see the pool of my milky-white cum there in her mouth between her pink lips. She seemed to have no idea what to do next, no inclination to do anything but sit and stare vacantly up at me.

I placed a finger under her chin and lifted upwards with gentle pressure. Her mouth remained open, but she tilted her head and neck up and backwards. Her eyes remained locked on mine, unknowing and unquestioning. When her chin was pointing nearly straight up, I saw my cum roll to the back of her throat. Finally she got the idea and swallowed, then opened her mouth again to show me it was all gone.

My excitement at having watched my baby sister swallow my cum was short lived. The effects of the words soon started to wear off, and I began to realise just how wrong this all was. She was my sister and I’d… It made me sick.

I sat beside her, held her in my arms while she slowly regained awareness of her surroundings. I don’t precisely recall, but when she asked what had happened I may have started to cry. I started to promise that I’d never take advantage of her again, but she shushed me with three words.

“Benjy… So hot.”

In moments I was on my back and she was straddling me, lowering herself onto my expanding cock.

“It’s getting hot in here.”

“So hot… and I haven’t managed to cum yet.”

She rode me like a pro, bouncing up and down on my dick, tweaking her own nipples and sucking on two of my fingers. She came twice, the orgasm making her twitch and thrash around, her already-tight cunt spasming around my cock and drenching my crotch with juice.

At long last, we decided that we should probably go and find Mum and Dad and get out of the restaurant before anything else happened. Once we’d pulled on our clothes and I’d zipped up the back of her dress (which was creased but apparently still clean), she turned and stood on tiptoes to kiss me softly, sensuously, on the mouth. Fuck me, I thought, I’m going to Hell.

The main dining room could only be described as the scene of an orgy. All the diners were naked and engaged in all manner of sex acts around the large room. Chairs had been knocked aside and some tables overturned to make room for the wet mass of flesh, moaning and groaning and grunting. The Japanese singer had long gone, as had his microphone and equipment, and the only people still in their right minds were a couple of waiters who were getting involved in the fun.

Mum and Dad were near the edge of the room, by our table, which was still upright. Mum was in fact lying on the table, on her back with her legs in the air, getting her pussy pounded, probably harder than it had been in years… but not by Dad. Her partner was a tall, black man who had been sitting at the table next to ours. His wife was face down on the floor, with Dad on top, taking her from behind. At some point the two couples must have decided to do a bit of wife swapping. They certainly sounded like they were having fun, although judging by their relatively languid pace they were almost ready to call it a night. They must have had a good time so far, though. I noticed that Mum was now sporting a pearl necklace to match her pearl earrings.

In a moment of ill-advised mischief I whispered “It’s getting hot in here,” hoping to watch them suddenly triple their speed. If I thought about it at all, I must have assumed I’d be able to resist, but I must have spoken too loud or my voice carried better across the room than I expected, because immediately every woman in the room said in a single voice “So hot,” and I blacked out.

When I came to a few seconds later, I was on the floor, balls deep in Nellie’s pussy, holding her legs up over her head as she screamed my name.

During the car ride home, after we’d calmed down and extricated our parents and we’d all got our clothes back on, it became apparent that Mum and Dad had no memory of anything that had happened in the restaurant, whereas Nellie and I remembered perfectly. Perhaps it was because we’d left the room early, but we’ll never know for sure.

Dad vaguely recalled liking the food but not the service. Mum was upset that Nellie had somehow got food all over the back of her nice dress—it turned out that when I blacked out I was not particularly careful about where I threw Nellie before fucking her. Mum’s dress had avoided stains but been creased beyond recognition.

While Mum and Dad made small talk in the front, Nellie and I whispered like excited school children in the back seat. We agreed that we’d experienced the most spectacular sex and that we both wanted it to happen again. There was to be no shame in our relationship. Nothing was taboo except one thing: Mum and Dad must never know, and we must never use the trigger phrases while they are around to hear them. Nellie and I held hands the whole way home.

For the next five days we fucked like rabbits at every opportunity, and even slept in each other’s beds when we thought we could get away with it.

On the sixth day, I got home to find Nellie bent over the kitchen table, with Dad mounting her like a rutting bull, mindless with passion.

“Yes! Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me!” She was screaming at the top of her lungs. As she came she saw me, winked, and stuck out her tongue suggestively.

I should have been mad, but I wasn’t. I just fucked Mum instead. Mum and Dad still don’t know what’s going on—they always forget everything that happens under the influence. But Nellie and I remember. Nothing is too kinky or depraved for me and my sweet baby sister. I think we’re closer than we’ve ever been.

I may be going to Hell, but fuck I intend to enjoy the trip!