The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Session B36:

I put Marcie under again straight away.

Well, not straight away. We had sex first—it was clear that she needed it as much as I did. I made sure she was quiet, and that we were quick; the last thing I needed was Mom coming home discovering that I was lying to her, and that my sister’s best friend had suddenly become my casual fuck buddy.

Of course, for Marcie we were more than just casual partners. I’d implanted a total obsession in my sister’s bestie—as far as she was concerned, she’d been thinking about me while playing with herself since she first started masturbating. “Master” wasn’t just a fun nickname—to her, it was the absolute truth.

As soon as we were done (which wasn’t long) I put her under. I’d trained her well; she didn’t even question why I wanted to hypnotize her again so quickly.

And this time, I tried a more subtle approach.

“Okay Marcie; would you tell me what you and Lucy talked about?”

“No.”

No hesitation, no pause, nothing.

This was new. On one hand, I was still worried…but immediately post-orgasm it’s harder to stress me out, and so now I was just sort of intrigued by the puzzle that had presented itself.

“Would you tell me why you won’t tell me?”

“Yes.”

My subjects had all gotten good at interpreting complex questions.

“Why won’t you tell me what you and Lucy talked about?”

“It’s private.”

I sat back thoughtfully. I’d assumed that turning Marcie into my personal sex-slave, happy to wrap herself around my cock whenever the opportunity presented itself and do everything short of fucking her father…that, to me, suggested absolute obedience.

But apparently not.

“Would you tell me if you’d tell her about you and me?”

“No.”

Damn it.

“Would you tell me if you told her why you called me master?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell her why you called me master?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s private.”

I could almost feel my heart-rate slowing. Okay. My sister may or may not know about my sexual antics with Marcie, but she surely wouldn’t know the full extent of it.

Marcie, it seemed, had a strong sense of privacy. On one hand, that was clearly to my benefit. If Lucy found out that Marcie was dedicated to serving my sexual needs, I can’t help but feel that she’d become a tiny bit suspicious.

On the other hand, it was sort of bugging me.

I had total access to her body: she would do literally anything I asked her to in the bedroom, and I’d assumed I had equal access to her mind.

Incorrectly, I guess.

I know it didn’t really matter, I know I should have just let it slide. But I’d found a limit (something that hadn’t happened for a long time with Marcie) and it was almost a point of pride.

I wanted to know what she wasn’t telling me, and why she wouldn’t share.

And so with a glance at the door—it was locked, so no one could barge in—I set to work. If they insisted I come out, I knew it would be tricky to explain why Marcie was in my room, but it was better than having them walk in and finding her naked and hypnotized.

“Okay,” I said, after a moment of thought. I felt like I was rolling up my sleeves and working on an old favorite project—Marcie had certainly never been boring, but our last dozen or so sessions hadn’t presented much of a challenge. “Hypothetical: the house is on fire. Lucy and I are both trapped under…pieces of wood.”

House fires aren’t exactly one of my areas of expertise.

“You only have time to save one of us before the roof collapses. Who do you save?”

“Lucy,” she replied in her familiar monotone, without even a moment of hesitation.

Well, I suppose that settled that. She prioritized Lucy over me, despite the obsession I’d implanted. I wasn’t exactly jealous—“sisters before misters”, after all—but I felt like the secret to cracking the safe of secrets I’d just discovered was to switch that order, make her more loyal to me than to my sister.

There were a few ways to go with that. I could break them up; create a hypothetical where Lucy pissed her off in some way, or have them drift apart…but something about that felt wrong. I, after all, have my limits as well, and making my sister lose her best friend wasn’t something I was interested in doing.

Plus it would mean that Marcie came around less often, and that was unacceptable.

I could try to strengthen her relationship with me, but I genuinely couldn’t think of any way to make Marcie more loyal to me than she was already. As far as Marcie was concerned, she’d been romantically and sexually obsessed with me since the moment we met. Where do you go from there?

For a moment I considered how she’d react to the threat of losing me. Maybe she’d be so appalled by the idea that her barriers would break down…again though, that didn’t sit right with me. I’d turned Marcie into my pet, and the idea of being cruel to her wasn’t something that appealed in the slightest.

When we’d started, she’d been my sister’s less-attractive friend. Now, she was someone quite special to me (the girl who took my virginity, for one) and I didn’t want to do anything that would hurt her.

I was stumped. I sat there, looking at the naked, obedient (but not quite obedient enough) girl sitting in front of me.

And that’s when it struck me. The solution to a few different problems that had been bugging me.

I didn’t need to ruin Marcie’s relationship with my sister, I just needed to adjust it. Change the nature of it. Right now, Lucy was the best friend, whereas I was just the…boyfriend, I guess. Fuck-buddy. However you want to put it.

Master.

If, however, I made Lucy’s relationship with Marcie sexual…we’d both be sexual partners, and it would be child’s play to ensure that I was the alpha. She’d be viewing both of us in the same light, and all I’d need to do was ensure that she preferred me to Lucy.

And, as an added bonus, I’d be making another fantasy come true: Marcie and Lucy, making out, wrapping their bodies around each other…I was getting hard just thinking about it. I’d seen both their faces as they came, I was starting to work out what turned them on, what got them off.

What’s more, I knew that Marcie was interested in this. She’d told me in the past about her sexual fantasies involving Lucy. And from my Japanese game show hypothetical, I knew that Lucy was interested in girls…well, making out with them at the very least.

This was going to be fun.

“Okay…” I wracked my brain, trying to remember the last time we’d run this scenario. “Hypothetical: you and Lucy are hanging around at the pool.”

Nod.

“She’s wearing her red bikini, and you’re in that black one you once dreamt was being ripped off you by Bigfoot.”

Nod. I not only have an in-depth knowledge of my sister’s bikinis, I also know a bunch of details about Marcie’s weird sex dreams.

“You’re chatting, and you decide to make a move.”

Shake. Damn it, my memory of the fantasy is too fuzzy. Last time I just recounted her fantasy back to her, and she agreed to way more than I expected.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh, acknowledging my own memory’s weakness. “Tell me about the sex dream you had about Lucy, with the bikinis and the making out.”

“Lucy and I are sitting beside the pool,” Marcie started, her black stare and monotone not making the retelling any less hot. “She’s wearing her black bikini, and I’m in my leopard-print one.”

(I was fairly sure that it wasn’t my choice of bikini that had screwed things up.)

“She gets up and starts to walk away. We’re both really turned on though, and when she turns back to me, I take off my bikini, exposing myself to her. She’s sucking on my nipples, and I can feel her drinking my milk…”

I cut her off. Marcie’s dreams get abstract so quickly, and her scenario wasn’t exactly helpful. But it had served its purpose of reminding me what I’d said last time; I’d had Marcie suggest making out, to tease me through the window.

It was sexual, so I was fairly sure I could get Marcie to do it, and it involved teasing me, so I didn’t think it would be hard to get my sister on-board as well. From there, it would be an easy progression…and here’s the best thing about hypnotizing people: nothing actually has to happen in real life.

Not until everything is set up, anyway.

I could run separate hypotheticals with both of them, construct an elaborate fantasy, until they were regular lesbian lovers…and then make it “true” for both of them. I could turn their relationship from best friends to lovers in an instant, provided I did the proper groundwork.

And believe me, it was groundwork that I was happy to do.

“Okay, Marcie. Hypothetical: you and Lucy are sitting by the pool. I’m inside, and you can tell that I’m checking you out.”

Nod.

“You decide to tease me.”

Nod.

“You’re wearing a leopard-skin bikini, and my sister is in her tight little black number.”

Nod.

“You know that I can hear your conversation, and so to turn me on, you ask my sister if she wants to practice making out.”

Shake.

What?

I wracked my brains for a moment until I remembered: in the last hypothetical, this had been earlier, when I was in the full-body cast from the time I’d been hit by a truck. (I’d made sure to write all the details of my “accident” down—both Marcie and Lucy thought this was something that had actually happened, and if they ever asked about it, I wanted to make sure that I didn’t contradict myself.)

That obviously wouldn’t work this time, unless I retroactively had their lesbian relationship start then…but, of course, that would bring potential contradictions of its own. Would Marcie have started fucking me if she was getting off with Lucy?

I could try having the two timelines run simultaneously, but the image of my mother staring blankly at the family photo album came to mind, and I decided not to risk it.

This was going to be trickier than I’d thought. Still, the easiest way to get somewhere would be to experiment.

“Okay, new hypothetical. You’re having a sleepover with my sister.”

Nod.

“You two are sharing a bed.”

Nod. I was tempted to have her sneak down the hall and get me off (something about that idea really pressed my buttons for some reason) but I decided not to let myself get distracted.

Especially since that was something we could actually do. For real.

“You wake up from a sexy dream…”

Nod.

“…and find yourself really turned on.”

Nod.

“You ask Luce if she’s awake.”

Nod.

“And she says yes, in a voice that tells you she’s really turned on as well.”

Nod. I don’t know what kind of voice that would be, but Marcie had accepted it, and that was good enough for me. This memory would be a good one for Lucy to share, too. I knew from previous sessions how far I could push my sister when she was hypothetically sleepy and aroused.

“There’s a long, tense silence between the two of you…”

Nod.

“…and you decide to reach out and grab her boob.”

Shake.

Yeah, I guess that isn’t really the smoothest of moves. How do half-asleep girls hit on each other?

“There’s a long, tense silence…and you ask her if she’s turned on.”

Shake. Too confrontational, I guess?

“There’s a long, tense silence. You’re laying facing each other.”

Nod.

“You lean forward and press your lips against hers.”

Shake. Okay, maybe Marcie doesn’t like being the aggressor. But I know (again, from experience) that my sister enjoys taking the lead.

“There’s a long, tense silence. Lucy leans forward and presses her lips against yours.”

Nod. We got there!

“What do you do?”

“I lean back.”

“What?”

“I lean back.”

“What then?” I asked, in the hope that this could be somehow salvaged.

“I tell her that I love her more than anyone in the world, but I’m not interested in doing that with her.”

Okay. Maybe the approach had been wrong. I started the hypothetical again, but this time I cut the long, tense silence and went straight from “Are you awake?” to the kiss.

“I tell her that I love her more than anyone in the world, but I’m not interested in doing that with her.”

Over the next twenty minutes, I blew right through my standard time-limit. I re-ran that hypothetical a dozen times, and every time, I got the same answer:

“I tell her that I love her more than anyone in the world, but I’m not interested in doing that with her.”

I tried other scenarios: by the pool, at the movies, in the girl’s bathroom, drunk at a party…no matter what I did, Marcie refused to make a hypothetical move, and every time hypothetical Lucy did, she got rejected by the same line.

“I tell her that I love her more than anyone in the world, but I’m not interested in doing that with her.”

Finally, I admitted defeat. But before I woke Marcie up and sent her on her way, I asked her a question…a question I should have asked after the scenario failed the third or fourth time.

“Would you ever hook up with my sister?”

“No.”

I sighed, and glanced at the clock. Mom was almost certainly home by now, else I’d try a different approach, come at the problem from another angle.

What the fuck had they talked about?