The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We were watching Friends when Emily first brought it up.

“Wouldn’t it be hot if I had a brother?”

“…what?”

I tilted my head to the side, and glanced over at her. She had a sort of faraway look in her eyes.

“If I had a brother. Wouldn’t that be hot?”

“I have a brother,” I pointed out. “That’s not hot.”

“Yeah, but that’s…I dunno, that’s real. I’m talking fantasy stuff. Like if I had a hot brother, and he was always lusting after us.”

“Us? Don’t drag me into this.”

“C’mon Izzy, you know what I mean. You like it when people look at us.”

It was true. I did, but not nearly as much as Emily. You don’t see many lesbians in the law profession, and the two of us…stand out. We’re both blonde. I’m tall and busty, she’s short and cute, and when we dress to impress, it can turn a lot of heads.

“Maybe that’s enough Friends for today. I don’t want to catch you writing fanfiction about Ross and Monica.”

“Ew,” Emily laughed. “That’s not what I’m talking about at all. Not a real brother, just…I dunno. There’s something hot about it. It was just a thought.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the show, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized…she was sort of onto something.

I’m what they call a ‘gold star’ lesbian. Never been with a man—never even kissed one, actually. I figured out that I was a lesbian when I was young, dated women all through high-school, and then met Emily in my second year of law school—her third. Now I’m on my way to partnership, and she’s part of the in-house counsel for a major charity. (I won’t say which one, but you’ve definitely heard of it).

Unlike me, Emily is bi. I guess it made sense that she’d picked a brother. Being lusted at by a guy, I know that’s a turn-on for her.

But why did the idea appeal to me so much?

I guess because a ‘brother’ is just so much more likely to ogle us. Like, if it was a little sister (Emily didn’t actually say ‘little brother’, but I assumed that was what she meant) who wanted to see our tits…she’d have her own. If she wanted to know how we got each other off…look, it’s not much of a leap from masturbation.

But a brother. To guys, tits are basically magic. They don’t have ’em, and without experience, they don’t know what they look or feel like.

How women get off? They’re just as likely to know how to break the speed of light.

So I had to admit: it would be hot if Emily had a brother, obsessively lusting after us. Trying to catch a peek at us kissing, listening at the door as we made love, staring wide-eyed as we held hands, or casually put an arm around the other’s waist…

I paused the TV show (which is something I never do) and jumped Emily, mentally picturing her fictional brother in the next room, jerking off at the idea of his sister making love to another girl…

The ‘brother’ returned a few nights later. We were watching Friends again, actually.

Emily, to my great surprise, had never seen the show before meeting me.

She’d revealed this during dinner with my family. Rookie mistake—my younger brother Justin had spent the rest of the night giving her shit about it, making references she didn’t understand, asking if she’d heard of these other rare shows, The Simpsons and Seinfeld.

After the fiftieth ‘why don’t you marry Ross’ joke flew straight over my girlfriend’s head, we’d all agreed that this oversight needed to be fixed. He’d given us the season 1 of Friends on a USB key. After we tore through it in a month, he gave us a copy of the next season as well.

We were up to season 3 (The One With the Tiny T-shirt) when Emily brought it up again.

“If I had a brother,” she said slowly, and my eyes lit up. More than a few times in the past week, I’d found my mind wandering to my girlfriend’s strange fantasy.

I leaned in, far too keen to hear what she’d come up with now.

“If I had a brother…we could tease him.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, her eyes glistening with mischief. “We could touch each other more, while he was in the room.”

“Mmmm…”

“Just casual stuff. I could stroke your arm, your leg. You could hold my neck.”

“Mmm-hmm…”

“Maybe I’d sit closer to you.”

“I like that…”

“I know you do.”

Emily opened her mouth, but before she could continue the hypothetical, her lips were met with my own.

Two minutes later, her beautiful mouth was between my thighs, as I vividly pictured the teasing we could partake in.

“What if,” I panted, pulling my lips from Emily’s for a second, “we ‘accidentally’ left the door open one day when we were making love?”

It had been two weeks. Every night, Emily and I would watch a few episodes of Friends, and then our conversation would inevitably drift to ‘her brother’, and what we could do to turn him on.

The sex was electric.

I’d never realized that I had a fetish. I liked tits, I guess, and lingerie…but beyond that, I was a fairly vanilla kind of lesbian. I’d tried spanking a few times—it was fun, but it didn’t particularly do anything for me.

Emily moaned in response. I hadn’t even noticed my hand making its way between her legs.

“The sound of our lovemaking, carrying into the hallway. He can probably hear it from his room.”

“Yesss…”

“He sneaks into the hallway, planning on looking through the lock on our door.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Emily panted.

“That’s right. He’s got a clear view…”

“Oh!!”

As Emily climaxed around my fingers, I smiled down at her. It was so nice, finding a fantasy that we could both share.

It had never been an issue, but I’d always been aware of Emily’s bisexuality. I guess part of me had been worried that she missed cock, or that I could never truly fulfill her.

I’ve done enough reading to know that this is a common fear when a lesbian dates someone who’s bi, so I’d done what I could to put it out of my mind. But the frustration had always been there—the idea that I couldn’t understand. To me, guys were…well, they were gross.

The entire gender had just never held any appeal.

But this ‘brother’ fantasy? Suddenly…I got it.

Take a cock, for example. The idea of an erection typically left me cold…but when it was attached to Emily’s hypothetical brother…god that turned me on. That imaginary cock, hard because of me, because of us. Because of who we were.

And even though I’d never before had even an inkling of attraction to a penis, just the thought of this imaginary penis was enough to get me completely soaked. Watching Emily’s ‘brother’ pump it, spying on us, stroking his hardness, cumming for us…

“Yessss,” I moaned, pulling Emily’s head between my legs. I’d already cum twice that night, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

Five nights later, it was Emily who took it to the next level.

“What if we let him watch.”

“Go on…” I said, not completely following. We’d gotten so turned on by whispering into each other’s ears, we hadn’t even turned the TV off. Ross was about to meet my girlfriend’s namesake—I’d been excited to show her that episode, but what we were now discussing felt so much more important.

“We sit him down, and we…perform…”

Emily’s thumb was working magic on my clit, and I gasped as her words filled my ears.

“We tell him that this is for him…it’s all for him. He could be right here, in the room right now, watching us as we…”

“Fuck.” My whole body pulsed as I came.

“You like that idea?”

“Mmmm.” I smiled. “What else could we show him?”

Emily had been away for almost seventy-two hours. In the past, that had never been a problem—her work flew her across the country four or five times a year.

But since we’d discovered our new, mutual fetish, we had barely gone twelve consecutive hours without getting each other off.

Emily was the love of my life, the best partner I’d ever had. But until now, I’d never needed her before.

She’d taken her laptop, and a copy of the fifth season of Friends. We’d continued our tradition of watching an episode together as we Skyped each night…though we always stopped paying attention to the show after a few minutes.

“What if we gave him remote access,” Emily panted. “Remote access—oh!—to our screens.”

I love Emily, but she sometimes mixes boring computer jargon into our dirty talk.

“What do you mean?”

“He can see what we see…” she hissed. “He can—yes!—see our screens…”

“Mmmm,” I said, picturing it.

There was a silence, and I knew that it was my turn to contribute.

I hesitated.

The time difference had meant that Emily was at work when I woke up, and so I’d been spending a lot of time pleasuring myself in the mornings.

And as I had, my fantasies had started to…drift.

It had started with me thinking about his cock. I could count the number of real-life cocks I’d seen on one hand, but I had a weirdly clear image of the one I was imagining for Emily’s ‘brother’. I could see him stroking it, pleasuring himself while watching us.

I could picture it shooting as we writhed in front of him, our bodies tangled for his pleasure.

His cum, landing on our lesbian tryst.

Just the idea of semen had been enough to make me gag just a few months ago, but now…I hungered for it. I craved it.

And so my fantasies had shifted.

“What if,” I said reluctantly. “What if…I seduced him.”

There was a brief silence. If it wasn’t for the buzzing of Emily’s vibrator, I would have been worried we’d gotten disconnected.

“What do you mean?” she asked, and I could tell she wasn’t mad. Her voice was soft, deep with lust.

“I mean…”

The buzzing pulsed, telling me that Emily was rubbing her favorite toy back and forth across her clit.

“I mean, he’s not my brother. Nothing wrong with me helping him out, is there?”

“Oh, god…”

“Maybe after we’ve performed for him, I’ll turn. I’ll say ‘hey, can I do something for you there?’”

“Yess…”

“Maybe I’ll suck him. Maybe I’ll suck his cock until he cums down my throat.”

“Fuck, yes. Oh god, Isabel…would you do that?”

“Yes,” I moaned, one hand between my legs. “God, yes, Emily. Fuck.”

“Tell me how he’s fucking you,” Emily begged. She’d been back for almost a month now, and she kept on revisiting the fantasy I’d revealed to her. “Tell me.”

“I’m on all fours,” I moaned, and Emily’s eyes rolled back in her head. “I’m on all fours, and he’s behind me. He’s kneeling. He’s so hard. Can you see it, Emily?”

“I can see it,” she said, her hand moving faster between her legs. “I’m on the bed. I’m watching. I’m watching my baby brother fuck my girlfriend.”

“He slowly slips his cock into me.”

“What does it feel like?”

“It’s big. Hard. It feels so good, Emily.”

“God, yes. Tell me more.”

“It’s more satisfying than I could ever imagine.”

“You love his cock, don’t you?”

“I love it.”

“You think he’s better than me, don’t you?”

I didn’t even hesitate. I could feel my orgasm approaching.

“He’s so much better than you. I can’t believe I ever thought that you’d be enough to satisfy me. I need a man, Emily. I need a man inside me.”

“Yesss!”

She came, and my orgasm wasn’t far behind. In the background, Chandler finally proposed to Monica.

I don’t think Emily even noticed.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” I shivered. I could feel the long cock of Emily’s brother filling me up.

Not really, of course. His cock was as fictional as he was. But Emily was putting on a deep voice and pounding me with a strap-on. Her brother would presumably sound a little like her, so it wasn’t hard to pretend.

“You’re my little cockslut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I’m yours. I belong to you.”

“Again.”

“I belong to you,” I repeated, my eyes rolling back into my head. I was starting to see stars. “My body is yours. I’m your property.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m your fuckslut. Your hole to cum in. I’m nothing but a set of holes. Sir, oh god, yes. Permission to cum, please?”

“Permission granted.”

I came, so hard that I nearly blacked out.

My filters were all long gone. If an erotic thought entered my head, I’d say it without hesitation.

Bed with Emily was a safe space. We’d pushed so many boundaries, discovered so much more about ourselves—there was nothing we couldn’t say, couldn’t suggest.

And yet, I was still shocked by her words.

“What if we shared you,” she said.

“What?”

My head was filled with what I imagined cock smelled like, and it took me a second to adjust.

“My brother and I. What if we…shared you.”

I’d never been interested in threesomes before. God knows we’d had offers. And not just from sleazy men, either—a number of our lesbian pals had more than hinted they’d be happy to jump in bed with Emily and I.

I’d never been interested.

Until now.

“Yes,” I moaned, after a long pause. “I want to feel you both inside me at once.”

“What if…”

Now it was Emily’s turn to hesitate.

“What if you watched as he fucked me?”

My mouth went dry.

Incest.

Real incest.

Real, fictional incest.

“Yes,” I rasped. “I…I…yes. Please. Please.”

The Rembrandts sang their familiar refrain as the next episode started. It was the one with the tea leaves.

Every night was different. Sometimes Emily would whisper her brother’s fantasies into my ears, tell me she was following his orders. Tell me that her job was to let me know what he wanted of me. I would cum again and again, my lover’s fingers deep inside me, my mind being filled with impossible fantasies.

Sometimes she’d tie her hair back, lower her voice, put on a strap-on, and dominate me. As a lesbian, I’d never even been remotely submissive—as a slave to her brother, I was a dripping mess at the snap of her fingers. I once spent forty minutes fellating the strap-on, Emily insulting and denigrating me as I did. The floor grew wet with my drool, my jaw was totally exhausted, but I never hesitated. I obeyed.

Sometimes, we’d film ourselves fucking. Every move we made was for the camera. We’d pretend that Emily’s brother was away on a school trip, and without his personal sluts there to serve him, we had to provide sexual stimulation however we could.

Sometimes, I’d be wearing the strap-on. Fucking Emily. Reminding her that her that she existed for one simple purpose: to serve her brother. That’s why we’d found each other, she’d once moaned; so there would be two of us to pleasure his cock. I thought about that a lot.

Sometimes, after a particularly long day, we’d just collapse into bed and finger ourselves to sleep, staring at the other with a dozy smile, knowing that we were both getting off to the same thoughts.

Only two things were consistent: every night, we’d get off thinking about our new favorite fantasy.

And every night, we’d watch at least one episode of our new favorite show.

Phoebe’s wedding was on.

I remember, because Ross and Monica weren’t on-screen at the same time very much. Whenever Ross and Monica were in a scene together, at least a part of me would be watching the show. I couldn’t help but imagine them sneaking off, fucking, Ross using his sister’s body for his pleasure. He should own her. He should fuck her every hole, whenever he has a chance. She should thank him for doing so.

Phoebe’s wedding was on. Emily and I were whispering fantasies back and forth. It must have been a weekend, because we’d been getting each other off for hours. Hours that felt like days.

“Your tits are so perfect,” Emily was whispering. “They’re so big, for my brother. That’s why you have big tits, to turn my brother on.”

I nodded. It was true. My tits were big, to turn her brother on.

“Your mouth was made for sucking cock,” she said. I loved sucking cock. I’d never done it, but I knew that I loved it. It was what I was best at. It was what I was made for.

It turned me on more than anything.

“You’re being used by my brother,” Emily continued. “He’s pounding into you, using your wet snatch to stimulate his cock.”

“That’s all I’m good for,” I muttered, and she smiled. It was so lovely to have a partner who shared your turn-ons.

“That’s all you’re good for,” she said.

If I hadn’t been so hazy with arousal, I probably would have noticed the weird tone that crept into her voice. But I was so focused on my own pleasure, I didn’t even notice her slow down, her voice get shaky.

“I…”

She hesitated. I continued to rub her slick pussy, enjoying the fresh wave of lubrication that seemingly came from nowhere.

“I’m not there,” she said, and that got my attention.

“Oh?”

“My brother is fucking your wet cunt, but I’m not there.”

“Where are you?” I asked. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream.

“I’m not there,” she said again, and my fingers slowed down.

“Emily?”

“I’m somewhere else,” she moaned, and my eyes finally focused. She looked like she was about to cum. “I’m at your house.”

“Why are you at my house?”

“I’m in your bedroom,” she said, grabbing my hand and forcing me to rub her clit. “I’m in your bedroom, being used…by your brother.”