The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Oh, yeah, that’s it,” Alex gasped. “What a fine cock-sucker you are, sis!”

Katrina Young exulted at her brother’s praise as she continued to suck on his rock-hard cock. It felt so good to be appreciated. She tossed her red hair as she began to pump her head up and down the thick shaft. Her left hand slid idly up to cup her tit, giving it a squeeze. It occurred to Katrina that merely a week ago she would have been revolted at the idea of what she was doing now.

She wouldn’t have been bothered by the fact that it was Alex, of course. For the last month she’d found her brother irresistibly attractive. Sexy. She lusted for his cock for what seemed like an eternity until that magical night when he’d first made love to her.

No. Not “made love”. That would never do. He hadn’t made love to her. He’d taken her. He’d used her like the hot, sexy babe she knew she was. He’d slammed his meat into her. She’d been all dressed up for the Homecoming Dance, wearing that slinky black dress that barely covered anything. Her stepmother Tiffany had just finished fixing up her hair when Alex had shown up. And as soon as Tiffany left, Alex had taken her and fucked her. He’d made her beg for his cock and then fucked her brains out.

Katrina shuddered with pleasure as she remembered the evening. After she’d orgasmed powerfully on Alex’s cock, feeling his cream gushing into her, she’d worked furiously to restore her appearance. Alex had watched the whole process, smirking. She’d barely been able to walk, but she’d managed to make it through the dance somehow. She’d feigned illness after a couple hours and persuaded Eric, her boyfriend, to drive her home. She’d barely been home five minutes when Alex had thrown her to the ground and fucked her again.

Since then, Alex had fucked her daily, driving Katrina to several orgasms each time. But even after this had started, Katrina hadn’t found the idea of using her mouth on her brother’s tool appealing. If he’d asked her to, she would have done it. Hell, she’d do anything he asked as long as he kept fucking her. But she wouldn’t have enjoyed it.

But then, just about a week ago, she’d been watching Richfield High, one of her favorite TV shows, and it had occurred to her that oral sex could be interesting. Arousing, even. The idea had stuck with her. Increasingly, she’d pictured herself sucking Alex off, and gradually, she’d come to realize that she wanted—no, needed—to suck him off.

It had all built to this afternoon, when she’d gotten home from school and come straight to Alex’s room. He’d looked at her as though he knew exactly what she needed. Without standing up, he’d unzipped his pants and pulled out his half-erect cock. “Suck it, you gorgeous slut” he’d commanded. And she had, eagerly.

She felt Alex’s hands twining through her hair, guiding her head gently up and down his thick tool. “Use your tongue a bit more, babe...” he groaned. Katrina complied, sliding her tongue back and forth along the underside of her brother’s thick, meaty shaft, struggling not to gag. She clenched her legs together, feeling the wetness in her pussy. The thought of servicing her brother like this got her so fucking hot.

Alex groaned as Katrina’s head slid still lower on his prick. The feeling was incredible! He’d thought he could never know any finer sensation than that of sliding his cock into his sister’s tight little pussy. This, though, was at least as sweet. He gazed down at Katrina’s shiny red lips as they slid up and down his shaft. And her tongue... it was just incredible.

It still amazed him what he’d done to her. A mere month ago, Katrina had been a stuck-up, self-centered bitch, concerned only with her own appearance and her social status at school. Her priorities in life had been cheerleading, gossip, and television, in that order. She’d treated Alex, her little brother, like shit.

And then Alex had figured it out. Through a series of subliminal messages inserted into Katrina’s favorite TV shows, he’d worked some slow changes in his sister’s thoughts. First, it had been her boobs. Alex had always thought that Katrina had the most gorgeous tits in the world. The subliminal images had been tailored to give Katrina the same... interest... in her mammaries that Alex had. The text messages accompanying them had reinforced the images, saying things like “I like it when men look at my tits,” and “I’m proud of my beautiful boobs, and I wish I could show them off.” Slowly but surely, Katrina had grown more and more obsessed with showing off her large, pert jugs, displaying them to Alex as often as she could. Even now, as she sucked his cock, one hand was massaging her bountiful chest.

From that point on, it had been a matter of gradually inducing Katrina to do what he wanted her to do, think what he wanted her to think, and feel what he wanted her to feel. It was just a simple matter of programming. Alex had used another set of images and messages to induce Katrina to spread her legs for him, with messages like “I really want to get fucked by my little brother,” and “I need to feel my little brother’s cock in my pussy.” Her lust for him had grown and grown, until the evening of her Homecoming dance, when Alex had finally taken her, shoving his lust-swollen prick deep into his gorgeous, sexy sister.

Since then, he’d been slowly programming her to show an interest in cock-sucking. It had been a simple matter to insert subliminal messages like “I need to suck my little brother’s cock,” and “I want to wrap my lips around my little brother’s thick shaft,” into the set of images his computer used for subliminal insertion. The rest was, by now, automatic. Alex’s computer intercepted the incoming signal from the satellite dish. Anytime that one of Katrina’s favorite programs was on—Richfield High, Hogan’s Bluff, and a few other sappy teenage dramas—the computer inserted a subliminal image once every ten seconds or so. The viewer, Katrina, wouldn’t notice the images consciously, but the brief flicker of the image would register on her subconscious.

And the system continued to work beautifully, Alex thought, watching as Katrina continued to suck his blood-engorged prick. His sister was now eagerly jerking her head up and down on his shaft. Alex stroked her flaming red hair as he pondered what to do with his gorgeous pet next. He could, of course, just keep throwing the same images at her, and enjoy having an eager little sex-kitten available for his constant use. It would be a long time before he got bored of fucking Katrina. But still, he felt like there was more he wanted to do with her than just screw her. He thought of the massive collection of pornographic pictures he had on his hard drive. Maybe...

His thoughts were interrupted as he realized he was going to come soon. It occurred to him that he hadn’t programmed her to want to swallow his come yet. She’d take it if he came in her mouth, he knew, but she wouldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t want to push her beyond the limits of her programming yet. Besides, that sweet little pussy of hers would be nice and juicy at this point.

Alex gently pulled his sister’s head up off his cock. She looked up at him quizzically. She seemed almost hurt that he’d stopped her blowjob. He grinned. “On your back, bitch,” he commanded. Her trepidation turned into glee as she hurried to comply. Alex climbed atop his panting sister, positioning the swollen purple head of his prick between the glistening wet folds of her labia. Sure enough, the slut was ready.

Alex howled in pleasure as he thrust into his sister.

Katrina shrieked with delight as her brother’s massive meat slammed into her tight pussy. Her hands continued to rub and squeeze her tits as she felt him begin to fuck her, pumping his cock in and out of her trembling snatch. Her big, beautiful boobs. Her gorgeous jugs. She just loved her tits!

She came almost immediately, her pussy clenching tightly around her little brother’s manhood, her legs encircling his ass, pulling him deeply inside her as she screamed through her orgasm. She felt him coming as well, spurt after spurt of hot spunk shooting into her stomach. Katrina’s orgasm surged higher as she felt the warm liquid penetrating her insides, her fingers continuing to fondle her tits. She’d sucked her brother off so hard that he’d come practically the instant he’d entered her. God, she felt so fucking hot!

Even in the light windbreaker featuring the Tigers’ team colors, Tiffany Young was shivering as she jogged up the steps of the high school, pompoms in hand. “Lexie!” she called to the similarly-clad woman at the top of the stairs.

“Oh, Tiff, there you are!” Alexis Donaldson exclaimed, “It’s so good to see you again.” Tiffany returned the proffered embrace. “We were worried you wouldn’t make it! You’ve been sick for so long!”

“Well, I’m fine now, Lexie,” Tiffany responded, breaking the embrace and stepping back from her fellow cheerleader. “I just had some medical complications for a few weeks.” Tiffany grimaced inwardly. Medical complications, indeed. “But I’ll be back at practice on Thursday.”

“Well, let’s get inside. Everyone else is waiting in the gym,” Alexis said, opening the door and hurrying Tiffany inside. The two cheerleaders were alone in the school’s small lobby; virtually all the students and teachers would be at the say-no-to-drugs assembly by now. Well, she’d have to do this sooner or later. Tiffany unzipped her jacket and shrugged it off, revealing her cheerleading uniform underneath.

“Come on Tiff, this way,” Alexis called, looking back at her. The leggy brunette did a double-take when she saw Tiffany. “Oh my God, Tiff, you had your boobs done!” Alexis gaped, mouth open, at Tiffany’s chest.

“Y-yeah. Well, I just decided I was tired of being so flat-chested, you know?” Tiffany explained nervously.

Alexis was walking back slowly, head tilting this way and that as she stared at Tiffany’s chest. “Jesus, Tiff, they’re... don’t you think they’re a bit much?”

“No!” Tiffany snapped. “I think they’re just fine!”

“Sorry,” Alexis said, raising her hands in placation. “It’s just that you never seemed unhappy with your breasts before. And then you show up with those...”

“Well... well...” Tiffany stammered. That much was true. It had only been a month ago, while she’d been watching one of those teen dramas she liked to watch during the day, that she’d realized she wanted bigger tits. She wanted men to stare at her jugs, ogle her knockers. She got a shiver as she thought about men looking at her tits. And maybe they were a bit bigger than most women’s. She looked down at her tits, straining against the fabric of the too-small top of the cheerleading uniform.

She’d intended to get something smaller, but once she’d gotten into the doctor’s office and started looking at photographs, she’d gotten so excited that she’d gone several sizes larger than she’d originally intended. But hey, why pay a lot of money just to look like everyone else, if you could look a lot better?

Then she realized Alexis was still waiting for her to answer. “Well, yeah, I guess I decided pretty recently. And I happen to like them just fine. So does Greg.” That was true. Greg loved her new breasts. Her tits. Her bazookas. She shivered with delight again.

Alexis laughed at that. “Well, as long as it’s for a good cause,” she said, grinning. “Now, let’s get going,” she said, trotting off down the hall. Tiffany hurried after her.

They soon met up with the rest of the squad, waiting just outside the double doors of the school gym, inside which the entire student body was assembled for a “Say-No-To-Drugs” program. They spent several minutes getting organized, during which time Tiffany’s recently-augmented cleavage attracted a few sidelong glances. Before anyone had a chance to ask her about them, the school principal introduced them and they burst through the gym doors and into one of their standard dance routines. Because the routine was one of the squad’s staples, Tiffany had no problem keeping up, despite having missed two weeks of practice.

The squad finished the routine with a sharp cheer of “Drugs? No!” and drew a round of applause from the students; especially, it seemed, the male ones. The principal came back to the microphone, thanking the cheerleaders and introducing the motivational speaker that was to present the bulk of the assembly’s message. Tiffany filed off the floor with the rest of the cheerleaders to the seats that had been reserved for them in the front row of the mass of students. Tiffany wound up sitting on one end of the row of cheerleaders, right next to a thin, shy-looking boy. “Hi,” she said, smiling at him.

His gaze seemed locked on her chest. Tiffany thrilled inwardly. Men had never stared at her tits before. The boy seemed to shake himself loose from the hypnotic spell of her cleavage. “H-hi,” he stuttered, looking away nervously.

Tiffany smiled, turning away to watch the assembly. The speaker quickly grew boring, so she began to scan the crowd, looking for Katrina. After a few minutes, she found her step-daughter in the second row from the top of the student audience. The redhead was wearing a tight white crop-top that showed off her generous boobs fetchingly. Tiffany was pleased that Katrina had such a sexy figure. She was also pleased that the girl wasn’t shy about showing it off, either. There was no greater compliment that could be paid to a woman than having men talk about how hot she was, and Tiffany was sure that plenty of the boys in school lusted after Katrina.

Including, maybe, her brother. For some reason, Tiffany had spent a lot of time recently thinking about Katrina and Alex having sex. Images of her stepchildren fucking each other seemed to jump unbidden into her mind. Tiffany crossed her legs, trying to subdue the tingling that was beginning in her crotch. Tiffany groaned softly as she thought about fucking her little brother. She didn’t have one, but that seemed immaterial. She wanted desperately to feel her brother’s cock slide into her pussy, feel his massive cock slide into her mouth... Oh, God!

Her head turned to look at the boy next to her. He looked to be perhaps sixteen. She was only twenty-three. He could easily have been her brother. Her brother...

Tiffany reached one hand out to cup his knee. The boy jerked at her touch, startled. “Excuse me,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. Her nerves were raw with sexual energy. “Could you show me to the ladies’ room?”

“Uh... s-sure,” he stammered. Tiffany stood up. Seizing on an impulse, she took his hand. The boy was trembling. He stood up nervously, leading her to the gym doors. Tiffany knew the entire gym was staring at them, but she didn’t care. She was just going to the bathroom, after all. She smiled. The boy lead her out the doors and down the hall to the restroom door. “Here you go, ma’am,” her mumbled nervously, and made as if to leave.

“Wait,” Tiffany insisted, gripping his hand tightly. “Will you come in with me? To make sure it’s safe? Please?” She squeezed his hand once, for emphasis.

The boy’s eyes widened as he slowly realized what was happening. He was silent for a moment, before speaking in a small voice. “O-okay...”

“Thanks,” she cooed, leading him by the hand into the restroom. Tiffany glanced around, making sure the small restroom was empty. When she was reasonably sure it was, she pushed the boy against the wall, planting her lips firmly on his.

Tiffany was hardly aware of what she was doing. But she knew she loved it. Her tongue shot into the boy’s mouth, probing, exploring. He was unresponsive, still trembling. Tiffany brought one hand to his crotch, feeling the bulge pushing against his jeans. He was responsive there.

The kid gasped as she broke the kiss. The kid... little brother. Tiffany sank slowly to her knees, unzipping the boy’s pants as she did. A quick pull allowed his rigid cock to spring free. Tiffany gasped at the sight. Her little brother’s cock. She brought one hand up to grip it, rubbing it gently, caressing it with her fingers.

The boy stood stunned, looking down at Tiffany as the cheerleader stroked his cock. Tiffany looked up, a smile on her face. Slowly, she parted her lips and brought her mouth down on the blood-engorged prick.

The sensation that ran through her body was electric. She sealed her lips around the cock, her eyes closing as pleasure washed over her. Cock... sucking cock... sucking little brother’s cock... Tiffany shuddered. Her pussy was damp.

Slowly, she began to pump her head up and down. The boy began to groan as she did so. Tiffany used her free hand to brace herself against the wall as she dove deeper on the boy’s cock. She’d gone down on Greg a couple of times at his request, but she’d never really enjoyed it. Now, for some reason, she found the idea of sucking cock incredibly arousing. Sucking... little brother’s cock.

It wasn’t long before an orgasm washed over her. She spread her legs and brought one hand to her pussy, furiously rubbing her erect clit, one finger sliding shallowly into her snatch. She was dimly aware that the cock in her mouth was beginning to pulse.

Moments later, the boy gave a sharp cry as his cock erupted in her mouth. Tiffany fought to control herself. The warm liquid flowed into her mouth, coating her tongue in a sticky saltiness. As her orgasm subsided, a few drops escaped her mouth, spattering onto the tops of her upthrust tits.

Tiffany collapsed on the floor, the short cheerleading skirt splaying around her on the floor. She was dimly aware of the boy zipping up his pants and hurrying out of the restroom. Slowly collecting herself, she pulled her spent body up off the floor, stumbling over to the mirror. The face that looked back at her held a dazed look, with a rivulet of jism snaking from one corner of her mouth down her neck to the twin orbs of her augmented boobs. She grinned in giddy delight at the sight.

She returned to the gym ten minutes later, the semen wiped from her face and cleavage and her hair freshened up a bit. The boy was no longer sitting in the seat next to hers. Tiffany looked through the crowd as she sat down, curious. She found him after a few seconds of searching, sitting with some other boys further up. He was gesturing furiously as he spoke to his friends. Tiffany couldn’t hear the words, but she had a pretty good guess as to what the topic of conversation was. Her suspicion was confirmed when the boy pointed at her, drawing his friends’ gazes to her.

Tiffany blushed and turned her head away in embarrassment. Embarrassment, however, gave way to excitement as she thought about what they were probably saying. Hot babe. Horny little sexpot. Cocksucking cheerleader tramp. A soft moan escaped her lips.

“Tiff?” Alexis asked.

Tiffany sat bolt upright. “I’m fine,” she snapped, trying to hide her arousal. She squeezed her legs tightly together, as though that would contain the wetness between them.

“That’s good, sis. Just smile for the camera.” Katrina complied with her brother’s instructions, flashing her most winning smile as the camera strobed several times. “Chest further out... show off those gorgeous tits.” Katrina moaned softly at the words, thrusting her chest forward as Alex snapped several more pictures. “Lean on the bedrail... there we go.” Katrina rested one hand on the wrought-iron frame at the foot of her parents’ bed. Both of them were out for the evening; Greg had his regular poker night with his old football buddies, and Tiffany had left shortly afterward, telling them that she had just gotten word that she had to go to a surprise birthday party for a friend. So Katrina and Alex had the evening alone.

Katrina thought excitedly about what was going on. Here she was, striking sexy poses and smiling at the camera while her brother shot photos of her. Just like a model. Just like a hot, sexy model that men would lust after. She pouted fetchingly at the camera, imagining men looking at her pictures, men wishing they could fuck her.

The idea had come to her while she’d been watching TV. (It was strange, she reflected, how many new ideas had come to her recently while watching TV. And her teachers always prattling on about how TV rots the mind. Oh, please!) She’d been watching Hogan’s Brook, one of her favorite shows, and it had occurred to her that the girls on the show were on TV a lot. They were always prancing around in sexy clothes on the show, probably getting all the men who watched the show really horny.

The realization had come with a stab of jealousy. These girls appeared on millions of TVs across America every week. Probably thousands of men and boys lusted after them. Tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of men dreaming about fucking them.

And what did she, Katrina, have? How many guys wanted to fuck her? Maybe a few hundred at her school. It was hardly fair. Here she was, a hot babe with a fabulous set of knockers, and barely anyone could see it. Those bitches on TV weren’t hotter than she was; they just had more exposure. Katrina had known with a sudden certainty that if she were appearing on TV every week, men all over the country would be jerking themselves silly dreaming of her body. That was what she wanted. Hundreds, thousands of men lusting after her.

It had been a week, though, before she’d done anything about it. A week in which her thirst to be an object of lust for throngs of men had grown and grown. A week in which, every time she stripped naked to get fucked by Alex, she’d fantasized about cameras shooting at her, flashing as she posed, showing off her sexy young body. A week in which she’d struggled to build up her courage.

She’d known that Alex would be the one to help her out. She remembered vaguely that he’d had a brief interest in photography a few years ago. And with his computer skills, she knew that he could get pictures of her distributed on the Internet, where thousands of men would see them. She knew Alex could help her.

But there were risks, weren’t there? What would happen if someone at school found the pictures? Her reputation would be ruined. Everyone would talk about her behind her back. They’d call her a cheap slut. A whore. She wasn’t prepared for that. Teasing the guys at school with her clothes and her body was one thing. Getting fucked by her brother’s massive cock every day was something else. But neither of these things was the same as being known as a slut. She loved having all the guys wanting to fuck her, but she absolutely did not want them to think they’d actually get a chance. Her reputation was critically important, and she wasn’t willing to risk it.

But her desire to be looked at, to be lusted after, had grown steadily over the past week. She’d finally decided to ask Alex to take some pictures of her. She wouldn’t have them distributed. She just wanted to see what she looked like on film, and fantasize about having lots of men look at the pictures. Just fantasizing.

She’d finally asked Alex about it just after he’d fucked her one evening. She hadn’t mentioned her fantasy about being lusted after by hordes of men across the country. In fact, she hadn’t even mentioned undressing. She’d just asked him to take some pictures of her modeling. “You know, to see if maybe I want to be a model.” That was all she needed, really. Her imagination could do the rest.

He’d readily agreed, telling her what she would need to do, what clothes she should use, and what sort of makeup she should wear for the photoshoot. Almost as though he’d known she was going to ask. No, she chided herself. That wasn’t possible. She was being silly.

And here they were, Katrina striking poses as Alex instructed. She was wearing a low-cut black tube top that showed off her generous tits and a tight, pink miniskirt that clung to her legs. The outfit was completed by a pair of black heels. At Alex’s request, she had tied her long red hair up in a ponytail. “It completes the look,” he’d explained at the beginning of the shoot. “A sexy little teenybopper.” That sentence had brought on the now-familiar wetness in her snatch. A wetness that was still with her.

“Okay, now bend over, hands on the railing,” Alex instructed. Katrina complied, bending at the waist and leaning her weight on the bedframe. “Stick your ass up higher,” Alex ordered as he continued to snap pictures. He circled around behind her. “Reach around back with one hand and pull the skirt up a little.”

Katrina did so, wondering if this was really necessary. After all, the skirt was pretty short anyway, and left little to the imagination. She pulled the skirt up a bit, and heard Alex snap several pictures. “Higher... higher... that’s it,” he commented. Katrina obeyed, surprised that he wanted it that way. Any higher, and she’d be showing her damp pussy to the camera. She groaned at the thought of her pussy on film.

She heard Alex stepping back, and the clicking of the camera being unloaded and reloaded with fresh film. “Okay, sis, for this next roll, how about we see some of your tits? Just pull up the top a bit, all right?” Katrina froze. She hadn’t asked Alex to shoot her topless. She hadn’t told him she wanted to be shot topless. But... she did want to. And after all, nobody would see these pictures, so what did it matter?

Katrina turned back to face Alex, nervously pulling up the tube top and allowing her breasts to spring free. “Smile,” he instructed as the camera began to flash. Katrina complied, smiling at the camera. Her confidence returned. This felt right. She could easily picture herself in the pages of a men’s magazine. She brought her hands up to cup her tits, proffering them to the camera as she leered, tongue brushing her upper lip. That felt very right.

Alex grinned as his sister squeezed her tits for his camera. Sure enough, this was what she wanted. He could read the lust in her face now. He congratulated himself once again on a masterful job of programming her. “Okay, sis, I want you to cup the left one... that’s it... now pout for the camera. Make it sexy, you gorgeous babe,” he ordered. The words had the desired effect, as Katrina swooned with delight.

The most recent batch of subliminal messages had been things like “I want lots of men to lust after my body,” and “I want thousands of men to dream about fucking me.” The images that supplemented these were drawn from his online library without alterations: Porn actresses pouting for the camera, models from men’s magazines spreading their legs or cupping their tits as the leered at the camera. He’d also included some pictures of strippers performing, thrusting their bare tits provocatively at crowds of leering men. It was all designed to induce Katrina to want to be photographed, and have her photographs viewed by horny men. She hadn’t admitted it all to him yet, but he knew that was what she wanted. After all, he’d programmed her.

Alex continued to snap pictures. Katrina followed his instructions eagerly now, fondling her tits and spreading her legs for his hungry camera. Getting her to bare her boobs seemed to have snapped her reluctance completely. She was really getting into it now. She didn’t have the skills of a professional model—she didn’t yet understand the best ways to pose, or how best to show off her body. But she was enthusiastic.

And she followed his instructions well, gradually removing the top and the skirt. Slowly he coaxed her through it, moving her from one pose to another—this one showing off her full tits with their hard nipples, that one displaying her glistening wet snatch. Alex noted with approval that Katrina had shaved her pussy before the shoot. Every image he’d used in programming her this week had featured a woman with a shaved pussy. Katrina had only a small triangular patch of fur remaining on her lower stomach. The lips of her slit were smooth and shiny.

Alex used up roll after roll of film on his gorgeous sister’s nubile body. After half an hour of shooting, Alex decided he had enough. He’d used up a dozen rolls of film, and Katrina was now panting from the exertion and excitement, a light sheen of sweat covering her smooth skin. He’d finished up with some shots of her from behind, standing on legs spread wide, facing the bed, bending forward to lean both hands on the bed. The pose accentuated the curves of her luscious ass while also exposing the moist folds of her snatch. Alex’s cock felt ready to burst in his jeans. There was just one more thing to be done.

Setting the camera gently on the dresser, Alex stepped toward the horny redhead...

Katrina stood, panting, balancing herself on the heels she still wore. She felt her pussy tingling as she thought about how sexy she must look. How fucking hot. That was what she was. A hot babe. She couldn’t wait to see the pictures Alex had taken, to see how sexy she looked.

The camera fell silent. Katrina stood, panting, waiting for Alex to change film rolls and resume shooting. She was exhausted from the session, but still eager for more. Maybe now she’d get to show off her tits some more. Her luscious tits.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her rear. Alex was stroking her ass gently, his hand sliding across her damp skin. Katrina’s pulse quickened as she realized Alex was going to fuck her. Suddenly, she realized how much she needed a good fucking. Her legs trembled as she thought of Alex’s thick cock sliding into her pussy.

“You really enjoyed that, didn’t you, sis?” he asked from behind her, his hand sliding down to her snatch.

“Yeah... yeah, I... Oh!... I l-liked it,” she moaned, gasping as Alex’s hand brushed her erect clit. Dammit, why didn’t he just fuck her? Katrina’s hips swiveled as she ground her pussy against her brother’s hand, trying desperately to bring herself to orgasm.

“Well, I was just thinking that we could also make some money out of this,” he mused.

Katrina’s hips stopped moving. What did he mean? “M-money?” she asked stupidly.

“Sure,” Alex responded, still stroking her. His other hand had reached around to her chest, and was now fondling one erect nipple. “I know of a few web sites that would pay good money for these pictures. There’s a lot of horny men who’ll gladly pay to look at pictures of you,” he explained.

Katrina gasped, her body shaking with excitement. Men staring at her. Horny men dreaming of fucking her. She shivered at the thought. But she couldn’t do that! “No...” she moaned as Alex gently stroked her clit. His other hand had left her breast and she heard the sound of a zipper. His cock... Katrina fought to focus her thoughts. “No... Someone might recognize me...”

“Nah,” Alex replied. “Even if someone from school did see your pictures—which I really doubt, since they’d have to be twenty-one years old—they’d never recognize you. Not in these clothes, with all this makeup. Come on, sis, a hot babe like you can make a ton of money selling pictures of herself for guys to jack off to.”

Katrina gasped again as she thought of hundreds, thousands of men jerking on their cocks, staring at her naked body. Her sexy body, with its creamy little snatch and fabulous tits. Alex’s thick shaft was brushing against her pussy lips now. It was sliding slowly back and forth across her snatch, the skin of the massive pole rubbing against her rigidly erect clitoris. She felt her resistance failing. “Noooo... please... just fuck me, Alex...”

Alex leaned closer, whispering into her ear. “And after they get done looking at you, they’ll go and fuck their wives and their girlfriends. But they won’t be thinking about the women they’re fucking. They’ll be thinking about you. In their minds, they’ll be fucking your hot little body, sis.

That snapped it. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to do it. “Okay... okay... sell the... Oh!... Sell the pictures, Alex.”

“Sure thing, babe,” Alex responded. “You won’t regret it. You’ll get a lot of money out of it.” Katrina nodded absently, but she was so far gone that she barely understood what he was saying. She didn’t really care about the money. All she wanted was to be seen. To be lusted after. To have thousands of men fuck her in their dreams.

A moment later, she was rewarded for her patience, as Alex shifted the position of his cock and thrust it forcefully into her dripping cunt. She came barely a minute later, screaming through a torrential orgasm, her hips bucking furiously on her brother’s massive shaft as she thought about how many men were going to see her sexy young body.

“Five minutes, Tiffany!”

“Okay,” the blonde replied, acknowledging the club manager with a wave. She turned back to the mirror, checking her appearance once more. She’d curled her hair before leaving the house, and now it fell in lustrous blond tresses about her made-up face, a few locks straying forward sexily to brush her cheeks. Eyeshadow and mascara highlighted her blue eyes, and her lips shined with bright red lipstick and gloss. Perfect. She slipped a pair of black sunglasses over her eyes.

Tiffany stood and stepped back from the mirror to evaluate her whole body. Her bare legs balanced on three-inch black heels, stretching up to a pair of black lace panties that barely covered her pussy. Her already-wet pussy, she realized. A matching bra struggled to contain her oversized tits, almost revealing her rock-hard nipples. She caught a few appraising glances from the other women in the room. Jealousy, no doubt. Tiffany knew she looked hot. But still, her nerves were raw. Did she really want to do this?

The idea had come to her a week ago, while she’d been alone at home one day watching TV. She’d been thinking about her new boobs, and how little appreciation they’d received. They were incredibly fantastic, a really gorgeous set of jugs. But nobody got to see them. Well, Greg did, but that hardly counted. He was only one man. She wanted a lot of men to see her tits. In fact, she wanted men to see her whole body. She wanted men to drool over her, to lust after her.

The thought had stuck with her. Pictures had come unbidden into her head of women striking sexy poses, showing off their tits, asses, and pussies for the world to see. Strippers licking their lips for audiences, shaking their boobs in customers’ faces. Women who commanded the attention of hundreds of men, women who inhabited mens’ fantasies. That was what she wanted. She wanted to be lusted after.

The feeling had grown stronger as the days passed. Days of doing nothing but staying home, watching the teen dramas she’d grown up with. Days of ever more intense yearning for the chance to show off her sexy body, with its fabulous tits. Yesterday, she’d gone out after her TV shows to do some errands. But without really thinking about it, she’d found herself heading to a section of town she usually tried to avoid. She’d been drawn to the Strip Strip, as it was called, a street that boasted over a dozen strip clubs. She’d driven up and down it, scanning the various windowless buildings, thinking about all the men inside staring at bare tits and wet pussies. She’d been too afraid to go inside, but unable to pull herself away from the street. At last she’d spotted a sign in front of one club, the Beaver Trap, advertising “Open Amateur Night” every Tuesday. Tuesday was Greg’s poker night.

And so, tonight, without really planning it, she’d come here. Greg had left for his poker game and Tiffany had just known that tonight she was going to be a stripper. There really was no question about it. So she’d packed up a small bag with the black lace bra and panties that she’d only worn once, on her first night with Greg, and the matching black heels. After all, hot babes always wore heels, didn’t they? Of course they did. She just knew it. She’d spent half an hour styling her hair, teasing it out into a sexy mane of blond tresses. She’d lied to the kids, telling them that she had to go to a last-minute surprise birthday party for a friend. After leaving a hastily scribbled note for Greg, she’d hoped in the car and sped off to the Beaver Trap.

The sunglasses had been an afterthought, found in the bottom of her purse while fishing for lipstick. She’d tried them on and loved them; they added immensely to the sultriness of her appearance. Without them, she looked like a timid young woman trying to look sexy for her man. With them, she looked like... well, she looked like a stripper.

But could she go through with it? Could she actually be a stripper? She’d struggled with her doubts during the drive over to the club. What if someone she knew was in the audience? Or what if someone who’d seen her cheerleading recognized her here? That wouldn’t be good. If anyone found out she was here, she’d get kicked off the cheerleading squad at the very least.

“Tiffany?” She turned from the mirror to see the manager beckoning to her. “You’re on next. Come on out; the crowd is eager, and they don’t want to be kept waiting,” he said, beckoning with one pudgy hand.

Tiffany shuddered in pleasure. A crowd... a crowd of men, eager to see her gorgeous body, eager to feast on her tits, her ass, her pussy. A hundred men, maybe more, all looking at her.

Her apprehensions vanished as she walked out the door, following the porcine manager to the back of the stage. He stopped there, wrapping one meaty hand around her upper arm. Normally, she would have been indignant at the implied familiarity, but she accepted his touch silently, her thoughts only on the crowd of men waiting to see her. She could hear them cheering wildly. Cries of “Bring out the stripper!” and “Let’s see some meat!” filtered through the thin curtains.

“Here’s the rules,” the manager said, wagging a finger at her. “You can’t let them touch your privates or your nipples. We get a 25% commission on all your tips. You get one song. Any requests?” Tiffany shook her head no. “Okay, then. Wait for the deejay to call your name, then go out and do your stuff, honey.” Tiffany nodded mutely as the manager stepped back.

Mere seconds later, she heard the music fade and the deejay’s voice booming in the front of the club. “And now, the Beaver Trap proudly presents the next contestant in our Open Amateur Night. Put your hands together for Tiffany!” Tiffany gasped in fright as she realized she hadn’t even made up a fake name. She couldn’t... A strong hand on her ass shoved her forward, through the gap in the curtains and onto the stage.

She was assaulted by a riot of light and sound as she fought to regain her footing. Multicolored lights swirled around her as the loudspeakers pumped out a heavy bass beat. Tiffany fought to compose herself, peering desperately through the sunglasses in an attempt to see what was going on. Slowly, they became distinct as she separated them out from the maze of shifting lights. Men. Dozens, hundreds of men, all cheering as they look at her.

She stood stock still, petrified. What was she supposed to do? She’d spent all week fantasizing about this moment, about being on stage with all sorts of horny men leering at her body. But, she realized, she’d never made any attempt to learn what she was supposed to do once she got here. She’d never even been to a club like this before tonight! She struggled to stay calm, thankful that the sunglasses hid the terror in her eyes from the crowd.

And then an image leapt into her mind—a skimpily dressed woman on a dimly-lit stage, her hips cocked to one side as she cupped her tits and smiled. Tiffany seized on it, doing her best to emulate the stripper in her mind’s eye. She leaned on one leg and brought her hands up to squeeze her boobs, forcing a smile to her lips. She felt a wash of relief as the crowd gave a lusty cheer. What now? Her eyes caught a metal pole implanted in the stage at the end of a long runway. More images flashed before her eyes as she caught sight of it—strippers swinging from the pole, wrapping their sleek legs around it, squeezing it between their oiled tits. She had to use the pole. She walked down the runway to the pole, doing her best to look sexy. The cheering of the crowd grew louder as she made her way to the pole. She drank in the catcalls and the stares, the dollar bills tossed onstage. All these men staring at her. Just her. She felt her pussy clench at the thought.

Another image came into her mind just as she reached the pole. She gripped it with one hand, swinging her body around as she used her free hand to pull her bra down off one tit. The released breast popped free, drawing another wave of yells from the men at the tables below her. She pulled the skimpy black top off her other boob, drawing more applause. Another image popped into her mind. She squeezed her tits together, rubbing the erect nipples between her fingers. The crowd exploded with excitement, just as another image flashed before her eyes. She licked her lips lasciviously as she continued to fondle her tits, and the cheering redoubled. Tiffany swooned as she felt her pussy tingle with wet excitement.

The images were coming faster and faster to her now, driving her actions almost without any need for conscious thought. She had no idea where they were coming from, but her brain was too overwhelmed by them to care. She was vaguely aware of ripping off her panties and showing her wet snatch to the crowd. Her eyes traveled from one face to the next, taking in the lust in each pair of eyes, each staring face driving her excitement higher. Still under the control of the images flashing through her mind, she stepped up to the pole, wrapping her balloon-like boobs around the cold steel shaft. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening as she slid her tits up and down around the pole.

Her arousal grew with each passing moment, bringing her to undreamt-of heights of sexual pleasure. And it was like sex. Like having sex with hundreds of men. Each of the men around her, she knew, was fucking her in his mind, and she felt as though she could feel them all—a hundred cocks sliding in and out of her moist pussy. Her tongue snaked out to lick the pole. The mixture of sweat and oil coating it was hardly appealing, but she was only dimly aware of the taste as the crowd surged again in a lusty cheer. Her orgasm crested and her hips began to swivel furiously as she ground her clit against the steel pole, desperate to squeeze every last ounce of pleasure she could from it.

Moments later, the music faded and Tiffany slowly came to her senses. She’d fallen onto her back during her climax, but her hips had continued to work, sliding her snatch up and down that steel pole, feeding the mind-blowing orgasm. She struggled to her feet, remembering where she was, as the deejay asked for another round of applause for her. She crept to her feet, trembling, and hurried offstage. The orgasmic pleasure was seeping away, leaving her with a coldness inside. What had she done?

She rushed into the dressing room, guilt crashing over her. She’d just stripped naked in front of hundreds of strangers. What had possessed her to do that? And then she’d gone and practically fucked that steel pole! She rushed to re-dress herself, fumbling with the slacks she’d worn to the club. She had to get out of this place!

She’d just finished fastening the pants when the manager burst into the dressing room. “Tiffany! That was fantastic! You’re a sure thing to win the...” He paused as he realized what she was doing. “Wait... you can’t leave!” he exclaimed.

“I... I have to go,” she stammered, pulling on her blouse and struggling with the buttons.

“But... but you won’t be able to collect the prize money if you don’t stay until the end of the contest. You’ll be disqualified if you leave now.”

“I need to get home,” she replied tersely, not meeting the manager’s eye. She didn’t want the money. She wanted to get out of this filthy hole. She wanted to get away from her shame at what she’d done.

“But... but...” the manager protested as she picked up her purse and marched to the door. He followed her, still sputtering. “Look, at least take my card. Call me sometime if you want to make some extra money.” Tiffany walked past him, not responding, turning down the hall toward the read door. She didn’t want to walk through the club floor again.

“Come on, Tiffany,” the manager pleaded, “you could clean up as a dancer. You had every guy out there hard for you.”

Tiffany froze, one hand on the door, stifling a gasp. All those men, looking at her. Her pussy clenched at the thought. The sensations she’d felt on the dance floor returned. All those eyes on her, all those cocks getting hard just for her. She turned slowly, trying to hold in the emotions surging through her. “O-okay,” she stammered. “Give me the card.” She held out one hand impatiently.

The pudgy man placed the card in her hand. “Please, call me anytime. I can work with whatever schedule you need, and hours that are convenient for...”

But Tiffany was already out the door, running to her car. She wasn’t going to dance again. She’d just taken the card to shut him up. She didn’t want to dance again. She certainly didn’t want to be a stripper. Certainly not. She definitely didn’t want to have all those men staring at her. All those men lusting after her. All those men dreaming of fucking her...

Five minutes later, as the furious movements of her finger on her clit brought her to orgasm in the front seat of the car, she was no longer quite so certain.