The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

More Limits

Chapter 8

by Pan

Session B112:

Marcie’s father was out when we dropped by. She’d only been institutionalized briefly—the doctors had quickly determined that she wasn’t a threat to herself or to others, and though she needed a carer, she didn’t require constant supervision.

Her mother was long gone, but her father was still around. He seemed like he was really struggling—the few times I briefly ran into him, he just thanked me for coming to visit his daughter.

“At least we know who her true friends are,” he’d said once, as if I needed to feel any worse.

“Hey Marcie,” I said, eliciting no response until I stepped forward and cupped her breasts. She moaned at my touch, as I knew she would. “Your master is here.”

Session 28:

“Hypothetical: when you masturbate, you think about my cock.”

Nod.

I’d expected her to accept that, but it was good to know that we hadn’t gone backwards since last week.

“You think about how frustrated I must feel…”

Nod.

“And how awful it must be, not being able to cum every day like you do.”

Nod.

“You think I’m very sexy, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You think your brother is sexy.”

Nod.

“How does it make you feel, knowing that he isn’t cumming as often as he should?”

“Sad.”

“Does it make you feel frustrated?”

“Yes.”

“It’s frustrating not being able to cum, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“When you’re masturbating, you think about how frustrated I must feel, and you start to feel it as well.”

Nod.

“You can’t cum, because you know I can’t cum.”

Shake.

Not even a pause. Just an instant rejection of the hypothetical. I paused—that wasn’t what I’d been expecting.

“You have no trouble cumming, even though you know I can’t?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t affect it at all?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I swear I saw a proud smile appear on my sister’s otherwise-neutral face as she replied.

“I never have any trouble cumming.”

Damn it.

I mean, on one hand, that was super hot to hear—and think about. Apparently my sister came easy…good to know.

But it did make my job a bit harder.

As far as my sister was concerned, I’d abruptly stopped masturbating. No longer could she spy on me from outside the bathroom door, secretly getting herself off as she did.

I was hoping to leverage the fact into stopping her orgasms as well, leaving her horny, desperate to make me cum so that she could as well. No such luck.

We sat there in silence for a few seconds, as I hastily constructed a backup plan.

“Okay,” I said eventually. I had a new path to go down; hopefully this one wouldn’t be stymied by my sister’s easy orgasms.

“When you masturbate, you think about me.”

Nod.

“You think about me wrapping my hand around my cock and stroking it until I get off.”

Nod.

“When you cum, you imagine me cumming.”

Nod.

“But even while you’re having an orgasm, you know that it’s been a week since I got off.”

Nod.

“That makes you sad, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Your orgasms aren’t as good when you’re sad, are they?”

There was a slight pause, and for a second I thought my sister was going to admit to being some kind of sex robot, always able to cum powerfully, no matter what else was happening in her life.

Which would be, y’know, fun. But distinctly unhelpful. My sister the sex robot.

“No,” she finally answered, and I smiled.

“When you’re sad, your orgasms aren’t quite as satisfying, are they?”

“No.”

“So once you’ve cum, you’re still a little bit horny, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she answered—again, there was a slight pause, but I think what I was saying made too much sense for her to deny it.

“When something is unsatisfying, it means you want more, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

I was going to be the first person to fuck his sister through use of dictionary definitions.

“So after you’ve had something that’s unsatisfying, you want another one.”

Nod.

“And if that one is unsatisfying, you want another one after that, right?”

“Yes.”

“So if you have an unsatisfying orgasm, you want to have another one straight after, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you tell me the most number of times you’ve orgasmed in a day?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if it’s more than five?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever had more than five orgasms in a day?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if it’s more than three?”

“No.”

I had a ball-park figure, at least. Time to bring it all together.

“So when you know I’m not masturbating, it makes you sad.”

Nod.

“And when you play with yourself, you think about my cock.”

Nod.

“So whenever you masturbate, you get sad because I’m not, and it give you unsatisfying orgasms.”

Nod.

“After you cum, you have to cum again.”

Nod.

“And after that, you need to cum again and again and again.”

Nod. I had hoped that by leaving the number vague, it wouldn’t trigger my sister’s reluctance to share exact numbers…but “again and again and again” sounds like it’s at least three times to me.

“Every day, you cum a number of times, but you’re never satisfied.”

Nod.

“You’re still horny after you cum.”

Nod.

“That means you’re horny all the time, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” my sister said in her soft monotone.

I could have woken her up here—the idea of my sister walking around all day, horny and unsatisfied, even as she flashed her little brother…it was tempting.

But I wanted to push it further than that. She was squirming slightly in her seat at the scenario I was putting in her head, of her wandering around all day turned-on and unable to do anything about it.

I was close to pushing her limits further than I’d ever gone before, I could feel it.

Session A60:

“Mom?”

Nothing.

“Mom, can you hear me?”

Silence.

“Mom, answer me. Can you hear what I’m saying?”

No response.

I had absolutely no idea how to deal with what had just happened—I’d come home to find my mother flipping through a photo album, tears running down her face, struggling to breathe.

I’d panicked, and put her under. She hadn’t resisted as I went through the usual routine, and now she was sitting in front of me, staring blankly, not saying a word.

“Okay Mom. What’s your daughter’s name?”

Nothing.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

“Mom?”

Session 28:

I ran the situation from a few different angles before I continued, making sure I really let it sink in.

“It’s frustrating, walking around horny all the time, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lucy replied, and even though her voice was completely expressionless, I could see the desperation in her eyes.

“Okay. One day, you’re walking past my room and you see me inside, crying.”

Nod. Her facial expression immediately softened. For whatever reason, my sister is an absolute sucker for her little brother’s tears. If I could fake-cry in real life, I bet I’d have her in bed within a week.

“What do you do?”

“I walk inside,” she said, “sit on your bed, and put one arm around you.”

“I’m still crying. What do you say?”

“What’s wrong, bro?”

Session A60:

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

She just sat there as she had for so many sessions before now, staring blankly. She was dressed in what was becoming one of my mother’s standard around-the-house outfits—a white button-up vest that showed off her plentiful cleavage, and a black skirt that ended just above her knees.

It was sexy as hell, but in that moment, I barely even noticed. I was wracking my brain, trying to get my mother to talk.

“Would you tell me what’s wrong?”

Nod.

She nodded! That was something. I picked up the photo album, still sitting open on her lap. As I looked through it, my heart sank.

It was pictures of Mom when she was younger, in her mid-twenties. And—in stark contrast to the memories I’d implanted—she was conservatively dressed.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Session 28:

“I don’t want to talk about it. What do you do?”

“Insist.”

“When I turn to look at you, you can see that my eyes are red and puffy.”

The thicker I lay it on, the more effective it seems to be. Maybe it’s her maternal instinct or whatever.

“I tell you that you won’t understand, that it’s not something I want to talk about with my sister.”

The more she leads, the less suspicious she seems to finds it.

“What do you say?”

“Come on,” she said, a playful tone in her voice. “I promise not to be weird about it.”

“I sigh, and nod.”

I paused, partially to arrange my thoughts, partially to build tension.

“I tell you that I think there’s something wrong with my thingy.”

Nod.

“What do you do?”

“I ask you what you mean.”

Here it was. The moment of truth. My sister had stopped fidgeting in her seat—whether that meant her arousal had faded or if she was just trying to conceal it from hypothetical me, I didn’t know, but I hoped that it would still have an influence over her actions.

“I explain that it hurts when I touch it. What do you say?”

“Oh!”

My sister practically yelped in surprise, by far the loudest she’d ever been in one of our sessions. Thank goodness Mom wasn’t home…of course, if Mom was home, I wouldn’t be hypnotizing my sister in the living-room.

I considered moving it to the bedroom, but I didn’t want to wake her up in a different spot, and I definitely didn’t want to hypnotize her twice in one night. No, whatever happened, I needed to get it to work in the living-room.

“Do…”

She hesitated, and I leaned forward in anticipation.

“Do you want me to have a look?”

I don’t think Lucy was even aware of the fact that she’d licked her lips slightly as she spoke—by this point, my cock must have practically been an obsession for her. She was cumming three or four times a day (minimum) thinking about it, and it was the indirect cause of her walking around horny all day.

Every day.

“I look horrified,” I said, fighting the urge to scream ‘yes’ and whip it out. “I tell you that I could never ask you to do that—that it wouldn’t be appropriate.

“What do you say?”

“Oh come on,” Lucy said, and though her face remained impassive, I could tell from her tone of voice that she wanted to roll her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve never seen it before. Remember when you broke your arms? I must have seen it what, like fifty times?”

“Thirty-four to thirty-seven times,” I muttered to myself with a smile. “I tell you that this is different—that in the hospital, it was an emergency. What do you say?”

“It sounds like this might be an emergency,” she said, trying—and failing—to hide her eagerness. “Come on. Bring it out, let’s see if we can work out what’s wrong.”

“I tell you I won’t,” I said, wanting to see how far I could get her to go. At worst, I figure I can just restart the hypothetical…but I was curious as to how effectively I’d made her want to see my cock, whether it was just to help out her brother in a time of need…or for reasons she wouldn’t even admit to herself. “What do you say?”

“I’m not leaving until you show me,” she said, and I grinned. I couldn’t wait any longer—Lucy wanted to see my hypothetical cock, and I wanted to hypothetically show it to her.

“Okay. I agree, reluctantly, and make you promise not to freak out. What do you do?”

“I close the door and I promise.”

Good thinking.

“I unzip my pants and pull out my cock. It’s exactly like you remember seeing it, but slightly more engorged and red. It doesn’t look infected or anything like that, just…frustrated.”

I saw Lucy shiver as I described my penis to her.

This was going to work. I just knew it.

Session 25:

“What’s the most sexual thing you’d do with me?”

“I’d jerk you off.”

“In what circumstances?”

“If you needed me to.”

Session 45:

“What’s the most sexual thing you’d do with me?”

“I’d…I’d…”

I stopped her, before I overwhelmed my poor sister. After I was sure she’d calmed down, I continued.

Session 5:

“Tell me…—“

I cut myself off. There had to be an easier way of doing this. Every time I asked her the wrong question, she’d wake up—I needed to work out a way of learning what information she would give me.

And then it hit me—why not just ask?

“Will you tell me about the first time you had sex?”

“No.”

It worked! Maybe. I had to find something else to test it on.

“Will you tell me what color panties you’re wearing?”

“No.”

All good so far. I mean, not ideal, but at least she wasn’t waking up.

“Will you tell me…what you think of me?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think of me?”

“I think you’re all right.”

Glowing praise, courtesy of my sister Lucy.

“Will you tell me…”

I was just fishing now, trying to find her limits.

“Will you tell me the most sexual thing you’d do with me?”

“Yes.”

My eyebrows raised. That was unexpected.

“What’s the most sexual thing you’d do with me?”

“Nothing. I will never do anything sexual with you.”

Ah.

Still, worth seeing if there was anything I could do to change that.

Session 28:

“I explain that my cock hurts if I touch it, and that I haven’t even been able to jerk off for a few weeks now.”

Nod. I’d accidentally extended the timeline, but she didn’t seem to mind, and I figured the longer the better.

“What do you do?”

“I ask if there’s anything I can do to help.”

She wasn’t even trying for subtlety. There was a slight breathiness in her voice. I loved it.

“Like what?”

There was a pause, and I realized what I’d said.

“…I ask you. What do you do?”

Her breathing was definitely getting faster now. She was wearing a low-cut top with no bra, and her breasts heaved with every breath she took.

“I sort of shrug, and say whatever.”

Whatever? That’s an open invitation if I’ve ever heard one…

But I decided to play it cautiously.

“Will you tell me what you mean by whatever?”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean by whatever?”

“Jerking you off.”

I slumped back in my seat. That was nice, obviously, but…there had to be more.

After a minute of silent contemplation, I decided to press on. She’d jerked me off before—only in the hypothetical, of course, but I wanted more than that. I wanted to fuck her…but we probably weren’t there yet, hard as it was to admit.

“I ask what you mean by ‘whatever’. What do you say?”

“Y’know…whatever.”

My sister, it seemed, had suddenly gone shy. I knew what she meant, but if I couldn’t get her to hypothetically explain it to me, then that meant I’d have to suggest it…and experience had shown me that things rarely went well when I was the aggressor.

“I start to cry again.”

Why not?

“I tell you, through sobs, that it feels so bad…that I haven’t gotten off in so long, and it’s starting to hurt.”

Nod.

“It’s obvious that I really need your help.”

Nod.

“What do you do?”

“I…”

There was a long pause, and for a second I thought Lucy was going to wake up. It wouldn’t be the end of the world—we weren’t in a particularly compromising position or anything, but holy fuck it would be frustrating. Marcie was back in a few days, but I thought for sure this was the night I’d finally make some progress with my sister.

I guess I could have just jerked off on her tits again, but I was hungry for more. I needed more than that.

“…I ask if you want me to jerk you off.”

Honestly, at this stage, I’d take that. I’d never actually felt my sister’s hand around my cock—the thirty-four to thirty-seven times had been completely hypothetical—but I could push this further. I knew I could.

Session A60:

“Okay Mom…”

My brain was racing, trying to come up with a way to get out of this. I’d never had someone experience a disconnect between the memories I’d implanted and reality. Maybe I’d broken my mother?

No. No, that couldn’t be the case. There had to be something I could do.

“Okay. Hypothetical.”

Nod. That was a good sign.

“You…your parents are quite conservative.”

Nod. This one was true.

“When…”

I wanted to spin this story quickly, before Lucy came home, but it also couldn’t have any holes in it or it’d make the situation worse.

“When you start showing more skin at home, they disapprove.”

Nothing.

“It’s okay for family to look at each other,” I added, “but they’re worried that the neighbors might see.”

Nod.

Now I had to deal with the impact of hypothetical neighbors…but that was something I could sort out later.

“When they’re not around, you still dress how you like, but you try to hide it from them whenever possible.”

Nod.

“To make sure that they don’t know how you dress, whenever you take a photo, you make sure you’re covered up.”

Nod.

“You’ve been doing that for as long as you can remember.”

Nod. I hadn’t even noticed how much Mom was shaking until she stopped. Her breathing returned to a normal rate, and her eyes appeared much less glassy—she no longer looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Even though for years now you’ve been wearing low-cut tops, short skirts and showing a lot of skin, all of your photo albums have you dressed much more conservatively. To hide it from your parents.”

Nod.

“That’s also why you have so many conservative clothes. In case your parents ever come and visit.”

Nod. I have no idea why the clothes in her closet hadn’t affected her like the photo album, but I decided to cover it just in case.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel good,” Mom replied.

I breathed the most powerful sigh of relief that has ever been breathed.

Session 28:

“I look at you, shocked, and ask if you’re sure. What do you say?”

“I’m sure,” my sister replied in a gentle whisper.

“I ask if you’re sure you want to jerk me off. What do you say?”

“I’m sure,” she said again.

Part of me wanted to push her to say it, but there was no real need, and it could backfire quickly.

“I nod. What do you do?”

“I lean in and wrap my hand around your cock.”

“I cry out in pain.”

Again, if I needed to, I could just come back to this point and let her do it. I made a mental note of the ‘save point’ and continued.

“What do you do?”

“I look shocked, and ask what’s wrong.”

“I tell you that it still hurts, and start to cry again. What do you do?”

“I give you a hug to comfort you.”

My sister’s a good person. I sometimes wonder what that makes me…what kind of a monster would take a good person like Lucy and spend this much time breaking down her down, striving to turn her into an incestual sex slave?

And then I remember the sight of her tits, the feel of her lips against mine, and how good it’s going to feel when she’s finally mine, on all fours, my cock slipping into her warm, tight, unprotected pussy…

My reluctance disappears pretty quickly.

“I start to cry again. What do you say?”

Silence.

After a few seconds, it became apparent that my sister didn’t have anything to say, and so I sat back to think once more. I knew exactly where I wanted to go from here, but I had no idea how to actually make it happen.

And then, totally unprompted, my sister spoke up and offered a solution.

“Maybe there’s something else I could do to help?”

Session A61:

“Would you tell me if your parents ever talked to you about sex?”

“Yes.”

The emergency earlier that day had gotten me thinking, and so after Lucy went to bed, I knocked on Mom’s door and asked if she wanted me to hypnotize her, to help her get to sleep.

As always, she agreed immediately—to my delight, she was wearing the partially-transparent nightgown that I’d bought a few weeks earlier and hidden in her drawers. Now that I knew the risks of reality and memory clashing, I had to be more careful about that kind of thing, but in this case, it seemed to have worked out

Through the thin cloth I could see the outlines of her full breasts, her large brown nipples, and the unkempt patch of hair between her legs. From sneaking into her room and checking her laundry, I knew that she’d worn it before, but this was the first time I’d actually seen it in the flesh.

And what flesh there was to see.

I didn’t want to make her self-conscious or suspicious, however, so I tried not to stare (while she was awake, at least) and just sat beside her on the bed and quickly put her under.

“Did your parents ever talk to you about sex?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if you think that was good parenting?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that was a good parenting?”

“No.”

“Do you think parents should talk to their children about sex?”

“Yes.”

I furrowed my brow—this attitude was in direct contradiction to every conversation I’d ever had with my Mom.

I decided to dig further.

“Do you think you should talk to me and Lucy about sex?”

“Yes.”

“Would you tell me why you don’t?”

“No.”

The trouble with Mom so far hadn’t been pushing limits—it was finding them in the first place. Every time I tried to turn the conversation somewhere interesting, I got shut down or locked out—this was the longest conversation about sex that we’d ever had…but, more importantly, it was something I could use.

After a few more minutes of staring at her mostly-exposed body, I woke her up and wished her a good night.

This was going to require some thinking.

Session 28:

“I ask you what you mean. What do you say?”

“Y’know…”

Damn it, Lucy, this is not the time to be coy. I decided to throw caution to the wind and just ask.

“In this hypothetical, if you thought it would help, would you have sex with me?”

“No.”

“Would you give me head?”

“No.”

I sat back, puzzled. What else was there?

“Would you…let me have anal sex with you?”

“No.”

I thought for a moment, before snapping my fingers and leaning forward excitedly.

“Would you let me fuck your tits?”

“No.”

Damn. I thought for sure that was it. It had been on my ‘want’ list for as long as Lucy had had tits.

“Would you tell me what you would do?”

“Yes.”

“What would you do?”

“I would help…stimulate you.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. Stimulate? What did that mean in this context?

“How?”

“With my…”

There was a long pause, and Lucy’s eyelids began to twitch. Before I could say anything, she seemed to calm down, and a hint of cheeky smile appeared on her face.

“With my tongue.”

My eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean my tongue.”

“Yes, but…how would that work?”

“A guy’s frenulum is very sensitive. You can get someone off just by stimulating the frenulum.”

I had no idea what a frenulum was, but I was suddenly very excited to find out.

“I ask if you’d stimulate my frenulum with your tongue. What do you say?”

“Oh…”

Lucy’s voice was suddenly filled with doubt—I could have kicked myself for being so forward. This shit only worked if she was the one pushing.

“New hypothetical!”

She closed her mouth. I ran through the exact same situation, and got back to the point where I screwed up.

This time, I was going to play it less stupid.

“I tell you that I appreciate the offer, but I could never accept.”

Nod.

Phew. That was a close one.

“I ask you to leave. What do you do?”

“After one last hug, I leave.”

Looking at the clock, I knew I didn’t have long before I’d gone WAY over my limit, but I didn’t care. This had to happen. This had to happen. That morning, I didn’t even know what a frenulum was, but I suddenly knew I would die if mine wasn’t stimulated by Lucy’s tongue, ASAP.

Fortunately, I knew exactly how to push her buttons.

“Every day that week, you find me in my room, crying.”

Nod.

“You always offer to help, but I always turn you down.”

Nod.

“You’re still cumming thr—…a bunch of times each day, but it’s not satisfying.”

Nod.

“The only way you’ll be able to get off properly is by helping me cum.”

Nod.

“Finally, one day, you come into my room and you insist.”

Without even the slightest hesitation, Lucy nodded.

“You…you stimulate my frenulum with your tongue, and I manage to cum.”

Nothing. Shit. Had I gone too far?

“You stimulate my frenulum with your tongue…”

Nod. That part’s fine.

“And I cum.”

Nothing.

What? Was she trying to make me suffer, or something?

Session A62:

Mom was sitting on the couch, wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt that she was constantly threatening to burst out of.

I’d started playing it a little less subtle, just to see what happened—I’m sure she’d noticed, but she hadn’t said a word. I really had persuaded her that family members were just never attracted to each other.

Lucy was picking up Marcie, who was finally on her way back from holiday. I hadn’t seen her in almost five weeks now, and was very much looking forward to spending some time with her again.

Her texts had been getting increasingly desperate (and more frequent) over the last week, and I suspected that at the first possible chance, she’d get the two of us alone and force my cock down her throat, or make me finger her as she trembled from one orgasm to the next.

“Okay Mom,” I said with a yawn. I didn’t even have a particular direction for the session, I was just killing time until I could fuck Marcie into a quivering puddle. “Would you talk to me about sex if I was dating someone?”

“No.”

“Would you talk to Lucy about sex if she was dating someone?”

“No.”

It was such a weird wall to run into; I genuinely didn’t know what to make of it.

“Bounce in your chair.”

She did, and her tits wobbled in a most satisfying way. They had to be at least as big as her head. I couldn’t wait until the day I got them free, got to run my hands all over them, got to fuck them, cum on them…

I took a deep breath. All in good time.

Session 28:

“You stimulate my frenulum with your tongue…”

Nod.

“When do you stop?”

There was a pause, and I briefly wondered if I’d fucked up again. But after a moment of contemplation, she answered.

“When you have somewhere to cum.”

Of course.

“You stimulate my frenulum with your tongue…”

Nod.

“…Until I cum into a towel I have handy.”

Nod.

There we go.

I could have left it there. But I had gotten so far…I couldn’t resist pushing it a little further.

“You know how hard it is for me to cum.”

Nod.

“You know how hard it was for me to let you help.”

Nod.

“You’re grateful that I let you help.”

Nod.

“What could you do to show me your gratitude?”

There was a brief twitch. I know, I know,— I was definitely pushing it—the idea of her thanking me for getting me off though…I couldn’t resist.

“I thank you.”

Fucking jackpot. My entire body was pumping with adrenaline, and I couldn’t resist pushing it a little bit further. Cumming into a towel is fine—any port in a storm, after all—but it was the only thing that stopped it from being perfect.

Well, that and the fact that I wasn’t fucking my sister morning, noon and night. But I suspected that would be a bit harder to fix.

“You feel really good about helping me.”

Nod.

“It still hurts when I jerk off…”

Nod.

“…so you keep on helping me.”

Nod.

“Once a day, you stimulate my frenulum with your tongue until I cum.”

Nod. Wow!

“I accidentally leave a tuna sandwich in my room for a week, and it has a really gross smell.”

Nod. A slightly judgemental nod, in fact.

“I ask you to…—“

I paused, catching my error just in time.

You ask me if I need your help one day, while we’re in the living-room.”

Nod.

“I say yes, and start to unbuckle my pants right there. Mom isn’t due home for a while.”

Nod.

“You stimulate my frenulum in the living-room.”

Nod.

“With your tongue.”

Nod. Amazing. I couldn’t wait to find out what a frenulum was.

“Just as I’m about to cum, you realize that we don’t have a towel handy.”

Nod.

“You tell me to cum on your tits.”

Nod. Nice, but I’d already done that. I wanted to see where else I could go with this—I’d started down the rabbit hole, and I had no intention of stopping.

“The next night, we forget the towel again, but you’re wearing a really nice top that you don’t want to get stained. You’re about to go out with Marcie.”

Nod.

“There’s nowhere else for me to cum.”

Nod. I remembered how close she’d been to licking my cum off the toilet, just a few sessions ago, and I wondered if I’d moved her limits enough.

There was a risk of waking her up, but hell—this was a hypothetical I was more than happy to implant as a memory. Getting my frenulum licked every day until I came? That was a dream come true.

Unless my frenulum was in my butt or something. I don’t know if I’d be into that. Still, that was something I could look up before it happened.

“What do you do?”

“I…”

The flutters were back.

“I…”

We were in the living-room; Mom wasn’t home, and I didn’t have a towel handy. If she agreed to this hypothetical, the odds were pretty good that she’d agree to this any time she was under.

Her tongue could be on my frenulum within seconds. Unless it’s somewhere hard to reach, I guess.

It all rested on her next answer…

“I tell you to cum in my mouth.”

Session 47:

My sister leaned in to kiss me, but I pushed her away. Some guys think it’s hot, making out with a girl who’s just swallowed their cum, but I’m not really into it.

Maybe if she was sharing it with Marcie…or Mom. That’s something I could get behind.

“Not now, Luce.” I said, running my hands down her naked body. “There’s something I want to ask you…”

She just moaned in response as I slipped two fingers into her slick pussy. It was always wet, these days, and I was knuckle-deep almost instantly.

“Now,” I said, enjoying her short yelp as I spanked her. “You want this to continue, don’t you?”

Lucy nodded. Her whole body twitched slightly, and as I moved my fingers in and out, she shuddered with delight.

“You want me to fuck you, won’t you?”

Session 28:

“Would you unbuckle my pants?”

“Yes.”

“Would you find my…my frenulum?”

“Yes.”

“Would you stimulate it?”

“Yes.”

“Would you lick it until I came?”

“Yes.”

“Would you catch my cum in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Would you thank me afterwards?”

“Yes.”

“Under what circumstances would you do all that?”

She didn’t even pause.

“If you needed it.”

I smiled, and stood up proudly.

“I need it,” I said. She never lost her blank look, but the speed with which Lucy had my pants out and my cock out told me just how excited she was to do it.

Within a few seconds, her tongue was stimulating the front of my cock, the sensitive part just below the head.

So that’s what that’s called, I thought to myself, looking down and enjoying the sight before my eyes.

Lick. Lick. Lick.

Session A62:

I’m not going to lie—at that moment, I was seriously tempted to just pull my cock out and start jerking off. Mom was sitting in front of me, her huge, beautiful tits bouncing—at my command—and I hadn’t cum for a day or two.

But Marcie would be home any minute, and once she’d put in some face-time with Lucy, I knew that her nubile body would be wrapped about mine, her holes would be mine to fuck as I chose, and she’d rub herself to orgasm after orgasm as I fucked her wherever, however I liked.

“Stop bouncing,” I said, at the sound of the car pulling up.

The new dress code would probably be a shock to her—I made a mental note to add it to her memory, that Mom and Lucy had always dressed like sluts around the house. It wouldn’t be hard—Marcie’s mind was mine to do as I pleased.

Just like her body.

Session 28:

The sight of Lucy on her knees in front of me, licking my cock with gusto, would probably have been enough to get me off by itself, but when combined with the feeling of her soft, wet tongue moving up and down my shaft, the way she swirled it around my head and stimulated what I’d just learned was my frenulum…

It didn’t take me long before I was ready.

“Now,” I moaned, and she looked up at me with a smile, opening her mouth and catching my cum.

“Thank you,” she said softly after swallowing my load, and I nodded before putting my cock away, handing her some water to wash the taste out of her mouth and waking her up.

Session A62:

My cock was practically straining out of my jeans when they arrived—I’d just woken Mom up, and now I was standing behind her, staring at her perfect ass, thanking God that I’d found that website when I did.

“We’re home,” my sister said as she walked through the front door. I tried to hide my erection as I strolled over to say hi to Marcie.

“Oh,” she said when she saw me, trying to act casually. I hoped my mother and sister hadn’t noticed the way her eyes had flicked down to my pants, or the slight breathiness in her voice.

“Hey, master.”

TO BE CONTINUED.