The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

DISCLAIMER

The following story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity and is intended for the entertainment of adults only. If depictions of sexual acts offend you, please stop reading now. If you are under the legal age to read this sort of stuff in your area, go do something worthwhile and stop polluting your mind with this crap. Finally, some of the things depicted in this story are dangerous or unethical; please don’t try this at home.

For whatever it’s worth, this work is copyright © 2000 by The Sinner. You’re welcome to download it for your own enjoyment. You’re welcome to repost it to any newsgroup or on any website as long as you include the entire work without any alteration (including the author’s byline and these fun little paragraphs at the beginning). If you do repost it, I’d appreciate it if you let me know about it; I like to know where my stories get to. Hell, even if you only read it yourself and enjoy it I’d still like to hear from you.

I’d like to thank JM for proofreading this chapter and catching a few embarassing blunders.

I am deeply indebted to Cal O’Shaw for the feedback he provided during the writing of this story, as well as for suggesting the title.

TV Guide

Chapter Five

“You should totally buy that for your next date!” Tiffany gushed. “With boobs like those, you’ll be lucky if some guy doesn’t fuck you right when you meet him at the door!”

Katrina giggled at that. “Oh, come on, Tiff, do you really think this works for me?” She ran a hand across the shiny black leather tube top.

“Oh, absolutely, honey! That outfit just screams sex! Get it with that red skirt and the black fuck-me pumps and you’ll have every cock for miles around standing at attention. Guys go crazy for that slut look.” Katrina swooned at that last statement, And with good reason, Tiffany thought to herself. Any girl would be proud to have a body like Katrina’s. It took a special kind of woman to be a slut, and Katrina should have been rightfully proud that she had the body for it.

That was, of course, why Tiffany had brought her to this erotic boutique in one corner of the local mall. She wanted to get Katrina some new clothes that would properly show off that fabulous body. Tiffany was so glad to have a stepdaughter with such potential. Maybe with a little nudge in the right direction... “You know,” she remarked slyly to the redheaded teenager, “if you showed that outfit to your little brother, he’d probably want to fuck you, too.”

“Tiffany!” Katrina gasped, her face pale with shock. “How do you know... I-I mean, how c-could you say something like that?” she demanded.

Tiffany was taken aback by the reaction. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to upset you. It was... well, it was just an idea.” Tiffany knew that if she had a little brother like Alex, she’d be eager to be his slut. If Katrina couldn’t see how sexy that would be, that was her problem. “You have to admit, he is kind of cute...”

“Tiffany!”

“Okay, okay... sorry, honey.”

“Well... okay,” the redhead replied, turning back to the mirror, her face flushed. Tiffany wondered what the hell had gotten into the girl. Surely she couldn’t be that big a prude.

Just then, her phone rang. Vince. Her pussy squeezed involuntarily just at the sound. She blushed at the thought that within thirty minutes she’d be taking Vince’s cock up her pussy, just like the hot slut she was for him.

Every single day for the past two weeks, ever since that night he’d picked her up at the strip club and took her home for a fuck, Vince had called her. The message was always the same: she was to meet him immediately at a certain location, dressed a certain way. Once he’d called her in the morning while she was making breakfast for Alex and Katrina and told her to meet him at the train station downtown in business attire. It had been difficult to explain to the kids why she had to leave so suddenly, but she’d made up an excuse about needing to be at the bank when it opened. Vince had found her at the station and fucked her in an out-of-the-way custodial closet, all the while praising her and telling her what an obedient little slut she was. He’d sent her home with a fifty dollar “reward”.

Once he’d called her at home in the evening, telling her to show up at a hotel room downtown wearing nothing but a fur coat. That had been a bit more difficult, requiring her to explain to Greg that she had to leave in the middle of dinner to see an unexpectedly sick friend at the hospital. Thankfully, she’d managed to sneak the coat into the car without anyone noticing. Vince had been in the hotel room, of course, and had been quite pleased to see her nude body under the coat. He’d rewarded her with a good fucking and another fifty dollars.

And once he’d even called while she was dancing at the Beaver Trap. She hadn’t gotten the call, of course; she’d left the phone in the dressing room and Vince had let it ring for a full half hour before one of the other dancers had come out to tell Tiffany. He was extremely angry when she did answer. She’d done her best to apologize, explaining that there was no way to carry the phone while she was lapdancing, but he’d refused to listen. “When I want a whore, I want her now,” he’d explained. “I don’t want her in half an hour. That’s no good.” Tiffany had begged him to meet her anyway; she’d already gotten horny just from talking to him. But he’d refused. “No, I’ve already got someone else here sucking me off,” he’d told her. “You lost your chance. Now, the next time I call you’d better answer right away or I’m not going to call you again. Understand, bitch?” Tiffany had agreed, crying as she did.

She had never let the phone out of her sight after that. She kept it on the nightstand while she slept, and even took it into the bathroom with her when she showered. She wore it on a belt under her skirt at cheerleading practice, setting it to vibrate rather than ring. He’d called her once at practice, and she’d been forced to fake a bathroom emergency so she could answer the phone. Faking a sprained ankle had gotten her out of practice quickly so she could meet Vince at his home and get her pussy plowed.

Turning away from Katrina, trying to get as much privacy from her stepdaughter as she could in the tiny dressing room they were sharing, Tiffany flipped open the phone and brought it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Vince, of course.

“Ummm... at the Northbridge Mall.” Tiffany was confused. Normally Vince just gave instructions without asking questions.

“Hmmm... Okay, what are you wearing?”

“Ummm... well...” She looked at herself in the mirror. She’d been trying on an outfit. “Ummm... sort of a pink top... r-real small, and a black skirt, and... and some shoes,” she finished, looking down at the five-inch long spiked heels.

There was a chuckle at the other end of the line. “You mean slut wear?”

“Y-yeah,” she responded, feeling her heart beat faster at the word “slut”.

“Perfect,” he replied, chuckling again. “Fix up your hair and makeup and meet me at the Ashton Street entrance in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” she whispered just as Vince hung up. She turned to look at herself in the dressing room mirror. The sheer pink top clung to her upper body, displaying the round globes of her tits. Hot pink fuzz lined the low scoop neckline and the lower edge of the top, which barely covered the bottoms of her boobs. The skirt was a tight black patent-leather number with an ostentatious silver zipper on one hip. The heels matched the top in shockingly bright pink, and walking on their five-inch spikes was a skill Tiffany had only recently mastered.

The outfit was fine, but her makeup and hair certainly weren’t. She’d come to the mall dressed casually, in a crop-top T-shirt and denim cutoffs, her blond hair pulled back into in a ponytail. That simply wouldn’t do for Vince. She pulled the band off the ponytail, allowing her hair to fall to her shoulders. With only ten minutes to work before she had to meet Vince, there would be no time to style it properly. She began pulling it apart, teasing her soft blond hair to increase its volume. She continued working with one hand while she rummaged in her purse with another. She wouldn’t have time to do a full makeup job, either, so she’d have to stick to the basics. Eyeliner first.

“Tiff?”

She almost jumped at the sound of her stepdaughter’s voice. She’d been so preoccupied with taking care of her appearance for Vince that she’d forgotten Katrina was in the dressing room with her. “Oh... uh, honey, I just found out I have to meet a friend in a few minutes. Do you mind going home by yourself?” She continued to put on makeup, applying a little blush to her cheeks.

“Uh... no, Tiff. That’s fine.” Katrina responded in a tone that was somewhere between shock and suspicion. Tiffany didn’t have time to deal with that right now, though. She continued to fuss with her hair, teasing it into a wild mane while her free hand rummaged through her purse for the right shade of lipstick. “So... uh...” Katrina stammered, “are you going to meet your friend dressed like that?”

“Well,,, I... um... I don’t have time to change, honey. Besides, we’re going out. Say, could you take the clothes I wore over here and get them home for me?” She found a tube of hot pink lipstick that matched the blouse and began applying it.

“Uh... yeah, sure, Tiff...” Katrina said disbelieveingly.

“Thanks, honey,” Tiffany said. “I owe you one. Oh, and would you mind not telling your father about our little shopping trip. I mean, you can tell him we went shopping, just don’t tell him where, okay? I don’t want him to worry over anything. Just tell him I had to meet some friends and I’ll be back late.”

“S-sure, but I don’t see why...” Katrina began.

“Look, he’s your father. Do you think he’d like the idea of you running around in that?” She gestured at the black leather tube top Katrina was wearing. Katrina looked down, then shook her head. “So,” Tiffany continued,” let’s just let this be a little secret between the girls, okay?” She grinned. “A little secret between sluts.”

“Okay!” Katrina agreed, suddenly smiling. Tiffany was pleased. The girl seemed to have a positive attitude toward sluthood. Now if only she could be convinced to give her little brother a shot...

But she had barely five minutes to meet Vince. She looked back at the mirror. Her lips glistened pink in the overhead lights and her wild hair looked like a golden halo around her head. Best of all, her pussy was wet and ready to get filled. “Okay, I gotta go, honey. Here’s the keys to the car.” She handed them to Katrina. “Oh, and here’s some money to pay for the clothes.” She gave Katrina a wad of bills—the money she’d earned fucking Vince, she recalled, her pussy clenching—and hurried out of the dressing room, throwing her purse over one shoulder. She was vaguely aware of all the heads turning to watch as she strode quickly through the mall to the Ashton Street entrance. She would have preferred to walk around the mall on the outside, where there were fewer people, but she didn’t want to keep Vince waiting.

Katrina gnawed nervously at her lower lip as she parked the car. She looked at the pile of bags in the passenger seat. They contained the clothes she and Tiffany had picked out at the boutique. Several hundred dollars worth. She was excited about the idea of showing them off to Alex, getting him hard until he threw her onto the floor and fucked her.

But at the same time she was nervous. Did Tiffany suspect that she and Alex were fucking? Did Tiffany know that she loved nothing more than the idea of being a slut for her little brother? Katrina didn’t see how it was possible for her stepmother to be aware of that, but her comments in the dressing room at the mall had seemed so... pointed.

Alex would know what to do. She just had to tell Alex and he would take care of things. As long as she was a good little whore, Alex would take care of her. She picked up the bags and hurried into the house.

Alex smiled as he put the finishing touches on another picture. This one featured Katrina dressed in a skintight leather suit, her hands cupping her generous tits as she gave the camera a smoky gaze. This one would be part of the next set of subliminal images. All of these featured pictures of Katrina wearing various slutty outfits—mesh bodysuits, see-through blouses, super-short skirts and the like. The text messages that went with them were things like “I love to look like the whore I am,” and “I want to dress like a slut so everyone knows I’m an easy fuck.”

The current set seemed to be working quite well. Alex had designed them to ensure that Katrina would do whatever he told her, immediately and without question. “A good whore does what her little brother tells her.” “I must not displease my little brother.” These messages didn’t really create any new behavior; he was simply trying to ensure that she wouldn’t hesitate to do what he told her from now on. He had some interesting ideas...

“Alex?” he heard Katrina ask from the doorway.

He turned in the chair to look at her. Despite himself, he felt his jaw fall open. Over the last few months, he’d watched as Katrina had gradually relaxed her dress code, wearing skirts that stopped shorter, tops that scooped lower, and heels that rose higher. But through it all, she’d still maintained a sort of respectability.

This... this was different. What stood in front of him now was not the girl he’d grown up with, nor the woman who’d stripped her clothes off for his camera. The vision in front of him was the distillation of all his sexual fantasies, an angel of pure lust. From the swells of her breasts above the jet-black leather tube top to the curves or her calves as they disappeared into the black spiked heels, she seemed to have been designed for one purpose: to excite and satisfy his cock.

“D-do you like it?” she asked, biting her glistening lip nervously. Her lips were painted a fiery red, matching her luxurious hair.

“Oh, yeah, sis,” Alex replied breathlessly. “God, you look like a slut.” Alex grinned as she closed her eyes and moaned at his words. It was so easy to manipulate the bitch. “Jesus, you look like the easiest fuck in town,” he continued, watching as she leaned against the doorframe to support herself, her knees buckling as she whimpered in pleasure. “Everyone’s going to know what a sex-starved tramp you are if you go out dressed like that. Now get over here and blow me, you little cock-hungry slut.”

Katrina stumbled toward him, sinking to her knees between his spread legs. Alex twirled his fingers through her hair as he watched her eagerly unzip his pants and fish out his rigid cock. “That’s it. Good little bitch,” he murmured as she took him between her ruby-red lips and began to pump her hair up and down. He could tell she was getting aroused just from the contact. God, she was hot! He leaned back, savoring the feel of his gorgeous slut-sister’s lips on his prick.

The computer! It was still on, a doctored picture of Katrina displayed on the monitor with the matching text message below it. “I want to dress like a slut so everyone knows I’m an easy fuck.” It was only luck that Katrina hadn’t looked at the monitor yet. In her current state of supercharged fuck-lust she might not even notice, but it wasn’t smart to run the risk.

Still... Alex read the message again. “I want to dress like a slut so everyone knows I’m an easy fuck.” He hadn’t actually worked this set into the lineup yet, and it was already obsolete. Katrina had dressed like this on her own. So what was he going to do next? He looked down at the gorgeous bitch sucking him off and an idea occurred to him. Well, why not?

He deleted the text message and typed a new one. “I love to sneak into Alex’s room in the morning and wake him up by sucking his cock until he comes in my mouth.” Alex smiled as he switched off the monitor and leaned back in his chair.

Moments later, his young body shook as his cock exploded into Katrina’s mouth. She swallowed his load eagerly, looking up at him with adoring eyes as she did so. “What a magnificent bitch you are, sis,” he whispered. Her eyes closed and her body shuddered. She was coming.

At last, his cock softened and Katrina let him out of her mouth, planting one final kiss on the purple head. She was silent for a few seconds before speaking. “Alex?”

“What is it, slut?” he replied lazily.

“Tiff... Tiffany has b-been saying some strange things.” She seemed upset.

“Like what?”

“Like... how she thinks I should dress up for you... to get you to fuck me.

“Really? When did she say that?”

“Today, at... at the mall. When we were buying these,” she said, running one hand along the leather tube top.

This was odd. “Tiffany took you out to buy this stuff?”

“Y-yeah. She was telling me how I should try to dress like a slut, and helping me pick out clothes.”

Alex thought about this. He’d noticed some odd behavior from Tiffany over the last few months, but this went beyond anything he’d seen. Actively encouraging her own stepdaughter to dress like a slut and seduce her brother? Maybe her marriage to Greg was going sour. It had never been much of a marriage to begin with, of course; Greg thought of Tiffany as a trophy and a sexy young plaything and Tiffany thought of Greg as a source of money and social status. But perhaps things were even worse.

“Alex,” Katrina asked, looking up from between his legs, “this isn’t going to ch-change anything, is it? I m-mean, I’m still going to be your slut, right?”

Alex grinned. “Of course, sis. You’ll always be my little bitch-slut.” He reached down to squeeze one of her ripe tits through the leather top, causing her to squeal excitedly. “Now get on your back, whore. I want to fuck that juicy little snatch!” Katrina complied eagerly, laying back and spreading her sleek legs. Alex pushed up the red miniskirt to find the bitch already wet. She mewled with pleasure as he drove forcefully into her tight pussy.

Two hours later, Katrina could barely walk out of the room.

Vince grinned as he saw his blonde slut standing right in front of the entrance. Apparently she’d learned her lesson about being late. He took a better look as he pulled up next to her. The pink top, the black skirt, the wild hair—damn, she looked hot. There was no doubt, he thought as she opened up the passenger-side door of his car, that this bitch was born to be a whore.

She settled into the seat next to him and closed the door. Vince pulled away, navigating through the parking lot to the freeway ramp. “Damn, you look hot, babe,” he exclaimed as he stole a sidelong glance at her.

“Thanks, Vince,” she said in that shy little voice of hers. Vince loved that voice. Not the hardened, cynical voice of a whore, but the soft voice of a woman who still wasn’t quite sure what she was doing. “D-do you want me to blow you?” she asked timidly.

Vince chuckled. He usually took a blowjob while he drove her somewhere. “No, not this time, honey-tits. I need you fresh when we get there.”

“O-okay,” she replied. The uncertainty again. Vince felt his cock stirring at the thought. He toyed with the idea of pulling the car over and fucking her right there. But he couldn’t do that. Not today. Time was short enough as it was.

The trip passed in silence as Vince navigated the freeway to a residential neighborhood on the edge of town. He stole occasional sidelong glances at his newest bitch, and she pulled out a mirror a few times to touch up her makeup or adjust her hair. Damn, she was a fine slut.

It wasn’t long before they arrived. Vince stopped the car on the street in front of a large, expensive-looking house. Light from a few windows pierced the evening darkness. Vince shut down the engine and opened the glove compartment. He pulled out a small package wrapped in brown paper and handed it to Tiffany, who took it, her eyes questioning.

“You’re to deliver this package to Mr. Barrett, in that house right there. He’s a good customer, so you don’t have to press him for the money. He’ll give it to you before he leaves. After he takes the package, he may want you to entertain him. In fact, he almost certainly will. You do whatever he wants. He’s not into kinky stuff, so don’t worry about that.” Her eyes grew wide as he spoke. Shit, what was the matter with this bitch?

He continued on. “Now, you’re a high-class whore, so if he asks for a price, you tell him that I said your mouth costs two hundred dollars and your pussy costs three hundred. After he’s done he’ll give you the money for the package and for the fuck, and then you come back to the car, okay?”

Her mouth opened, but it was several seconds before she could speak. “But... I... Vince, I... I... I can’t d-do that,” she exclaimed in shock.

What the hell was this? Did she want to be a whore or not? Vince spoke angrily to her. “Listen up, honey. You told me you wanted to be my bitch. Well, this is what my bitches do. They deliver my product and they fuck and blow my customers.” She shrunk away from him as he pointed a finger at her. “Now, you’ve been playing the eager little slut ever since I met you, always happy to do whatever I want just as long as you get my cock in your pussy. All the time you kept telling me how much you wanted to be my whore.

“Well, don’t you dare go frigid on me now, bitch. This is it. You’re a whore, and I’m your pimp. Your job is to fuck who I tell you, when I tell you. And I’m telling you to go into that house and fuck Mr. Barrett. Do you understand?”

She sat there, trembling, for a full five seconds before slowly nodding. “Y-yes, Vince.”

“Good,” he replied. “And one more thing. You act like you enjoy it. If I hear even one word from Mr. Barrett about how the new girl didn’t do what he wanted, or didn’t seem to be enjoying it, I’ll toss you out and find someone better. Am I making myself clear, slut?”

“Y-yeah,” she stammered, biting her lip and looking away from him.

“Good. Now fix yourself up and get up there.”

She seemed to settle down a bit as she used the sun-visor mirror to touch up her lipstick and hair. When she was done, she took the package, opened the door, and stepped out.

It wasn’t until she’d closed the door that Vince realized he’d been holding his breath. He’d been worried about the consequences of talking to her like that, but he had no choice. With a slut like that, you had to let her know who was the boss.

Tiffany struggled to stay calm as she closed the door and strode up the stone walkway to the front door of the house. Her mind raced as she struggled to come to grips with what was going on.

The whole idea of being a whore had never been quite real to her. Sure, she came running whenever Vince called, no matter what time of day or where she was. But that was just... well, it was just that she found him so irresistibly sexy. And sure, she let him call her a whore and a slut and a bitch, but that was part of the fun. It got her so fucking horny to be talked to that way, to be treated like a tramp. Dressing like a slut... well, that was just for fun. A joke, almost. A very sexy joke, but still a joke. And so what if she took money from him each time they fucked? That was... that... well, it was just part of the play-acting, wasn’t it? Part of the weird, screwed up fantasy she had of being a whore for her little brother.

Except that now it wasn’t a fantasy anymore. Now she was walking up to a strange man’s door carrying a box filled with God-knew-what, dressed like a street-corner hooker. If anyone who knew her saw her like this, they probably wouldn’t even be able to recognize her.

She reached the front door and froze, terrified. Could she really do this? Could she really fuck a complete stranger? If she rang the doorbell, she was a whore. It was that simple. She turned to look back at the car. She could only vaguely make out its shape in the dim light, and she couldn’t see inside at all, but she knew Vince was watching her.

She... she couldn’t displease Vince. Vince, her little brother. I am my little brother’s whore. I must not displease my little brother. The sentences came into her mind unbidden, almost as though someone was speaking to her. And instantly, she knew they were true. She couldn’t displease Vince. Not because she was afraid, but because... because it was just wrong for her to do anything that would make her little brother unhappy. A good whore does what her little brother tells her. Yes, that was it. Of course. She turned back to the door and rang the bell.

Nervous seconds later, the door opened, revealing a portly, middle-aged man with thinning brown hair. He looked her up and down, a smile coming slowly to his round face. Tiffany found herself unable to speak as she watched him appraise her like a piece of meat. “Well,” he chuckled, “you must be Vince’s newest acquisition. And quite a hot little piece of ass you are, too.” He stepped aside, waving her in.

Tiffany stumbled on the step as she walked in, but quickly righted herself. The inside of the house was quite nicely furnished, but lacked any real personality. It was clear that Barrett lived here alone. “Well, sweetcakes,” Barrett said, sliding one hand across her ass as he walked around to face her, “you have something for me?”

Tiffany struggled to find her voice. “V-Vince says my mouth c-costs two hundred and my p-pussy costs three hundred.”

Barrett laughed out loud. “Getting a little bit ahead of things, aren’t you, babe?” he asked. Tiffany didn’t know what he was talking about. “I meant the package,” he said, pointing to the box in her right hand.

The package. Right. Her face reddening with embarrassment, Tiffany handed him the box. He took it eagerly. “Come on into the living room while I check it out,” he said, walking through a wide doorway into the spacious living room. He motioned Tiffany to a seat on the plush leather couch, which she nervously took, and sat himself down right next to her. He opened the package on the coffee table, revealing a number of plastic bags containing a white powder.

“Mmmm, looks good,” he enthused, opening one bag to take a sniff of the contents. Tiffany blanched as she realized what she had just delivered. Her suspicions were confirmed when Barrett opened a small box on the table and removed a mirror, a razor blade, and a small metal tube. He tapped a small amount of powder onto the mirror, used the blade to push it into a straight line, and finally snorted it up through the tube. Cocaine. Jesus Christ, Vince was a drug dealer. “Oh, yeah, that’s good stuff,” Barrett murmured as he wiped his nose. “You want some, honey?”

Tiffany did her best not to show the disgust she was feeling. “N-no thanks, Mr. Barrett.”

He looked at her as though she were crazy. “You sure? It’s pure shit. Most of you whores love it.”

“No, r-really, that’s okay, Mr. Barrett.”

He shrugged. “Okay, suit yourself. Why don’t you get started blowing me while I do another line?” he said casually, spreading his legs apart to provide access to his crotch.

“O-okay, Mr. Barrett,” she stuttered, sliding off the couch and positioning herself on her knees in front of him. She brought her hands up to unbuckle his belt and pull open his fly. She pulled down his slacks, allowing his member to spring free. She hesitated, but only for a minute, before wrapping her lips around it and sucking on it.

She heard him snort again, followed by a groan of pleasure as she began using her tongue on the underside of his cock. She struggled to remember everything Vince had taught her about giving a blowjob. She pumped her head up and down vigorously as she sucked, eliciting a series of moans from Barrett. “God damn, that’s good,” he exclaimed, one hand coming to rest on her head. “Best two hundred dollars I ever spent.”

Two hundred dollars. That was what her mouth was costing him. She was earning two hundred dollars for Vince by sucking this guy off. Two hundred dollars for her little brother. Because she was his whore. Tiffany felt her pussy grow damp as she pumped faster on Barrett’s shaft.

“Oh, God, oh God!” he moaned. “Stop... stop...” he said, pushing her head back off his cock. Tiffany looked up, confused. “Gotta have your pussy, babe. If this is a two hundred dollar mouth, I gotta get my prick into that three hundred dollar pussy. On your back, on the couch,” he growled.

Tiffany complied, pulling herself up onto the couch and reclining. Wasting no time, Barrett pushed the tight black skirt up her legs, bunching it up around her waist and exposing her moist pussy. “No panties,” he grinned. Gripping one of her upthrust legs with each hand, he pulled her wide open and slid his shaft inside.

Tiffany mewled in pleasure at his entry. She was surprised, shocked even at how horny she was. But her body responded on its own, her hips meeting Barrett’s in a perfect rhythm as he began to fuck her. “Shit, you’ve got a sweet pussy, babe!” he exclaimed as he slammed his cock into her.

The training Vince had given her kicked in almost automatically. “Oh, God, your cock feels so huge inside me, Mr. Barrett. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!” she squealed.

“You got it, honey!” he growled as he slid into her once again. “God damn, you are so fucking tight!” he exclaimed.

Still acting on the lessons she’d learned from Vince, she pulled the pink top up off her boobs, bunching it up on her chest and letting her balloonlike tits bounce free. She used her hands to fondle and knead them, hoping to arouse Barrett even further with the display.

It worked. “Holy shit, those are the most incredible tits I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed. His eyes locked onto them even as he continued to pound her snatch.

“Do you like them, Mr. Barrett?” she asked coyly. “Do you like my tits?” She rolled her erect left nipple between her thumb and forefinger, licking her lips lasciviously.

“God, yes! They’re fucking fantastic!” he exclaimed, pistoning his cock furiously in and out of her sizzling snatch. “Vince was r-right,” he moaned, “when he s-said you were the best slut he’d ever had!”

Vince’s best slut. “Th-thank you Mr. B-Barrett,” she cried, the lust in her veins rapidly coming to a peak. His best slut! She was Vince’s best slut! She was so excited to be able to please Vince like this. Please her little brother!

That thought sent her over the edge, her pussy contracting in orgasm around Barrett’s thick cock, her back arching as she continued to fondle her beautifully big tits. “Fuck me! Fuck meeeeeee!” she screamed.

Moments later, he came as well, his cock throbbing inside her as he shot his load deep into her tingling pussy. Her three hundred dollar pussy. She felt so proud to be earning money for Vince. She was his best whore and she was determined to make him proud.

Her orgasm persisted, fogging her brain with delight as she savored the feeling of Barrett’s prick buried inside her. The torrent of come spewing from him abated, and he pulled his cock out, rolling off of her to kneel on the floor. She whined softly at the vacancy in her pussy. “Wanna fuck s’more...” she mewled plaintively. “Please... cock...” She reached her hand out to gently stroke Barrett’s softening member.

“Not now, sugar-tits,” Barrett said. He turned back to table and began pouring out another dose of cocaine. Frustrated, Tiffany began to stroke her still-sensitive pussy with her fingers. She worked one finger inside, closing her eyes as she worked on her pussy. It was a poor substitute for a cock, but she had to get herself off!

She heard Barrett snorting another line, but paid no attention, moaning softly as she wiggled the finger inside her snatch. “Well, damn,” she heard him say, “looks like you really do need another fuck. Tell you what. Blow me until I get it back up and I’ll do you doggy-style.”

Tiffany squealed with delight, clambering down off the couch and rushing to take Barrett into her mouth. She sucked furiously as Barrett snorted again, and it was only a few minutes before his shaft hardened in her mouth. The ensuing fuck was much slower than the first, but no less satisfying for Tiffany, bent over the coffee table, her ass high in the air as Barrett took her from behind. She came three times before she finally felt him shudder and empty his cock into her. This time she felt satisfied, although she still wanted to fuck some more.

But Barrett was worn out. He retrieved a large wad of bills and counted off two thousand three hundred dollars, handing the wad of cash to Tiffany, who was struggling to re-dress herself in the pink top and black skirt. She had to let herself out; Barrett had gone eagerly back to the coke. She felt a thin rivulet of come drip out of her pussy and trickle down her leg as she walked back to the car. Vince let her in and she handed him the cash as she sat down.

“Let’s see...” he muttered as he counted the bills. Tiffany felt her body grow tense as she watched him. She had done all right, hadn’t she? “Fifteen hundred for the package, which means you earned me... Wow, eight hundred. Eight hundred on your first trick! You got him to fuck you twice?” Tiffany nodded eagerly. “Damn, you’re a fine whore!” She beamed at the compliment. “Well, a quarter of that is yours, so here you go,” he said, pressing two hundred dollars into her hand. “You’ve earned it.” Tiffany took the money, proud that Vince was so pleased with her.

He started the car. “Fix up your makeup and you can suck me off,” he told her. Tiffany opened her purse and eagerly began touching up her lipstick, already anticipating the sweet taste of Vince’s cock. She was happy to please her little brother in any way she could. Happy to be his whore.

Alex grunted in frustration as he struggled to move the pieces of the puzzle. It was one of those sliding-number games. He was usually a whiz at these, but this one wasn’t cooperating. He felt like he was on the verge of solving it, but every time he tried to move a piece into place it just got more confusing. And now, just to add to his distractions, his slut of a sister had started sucking his dick. The stupid little whore couldn’t stay away from his cock. But it felt...

Alex opened his eyes to see the ceiling of his bedroom. The dream melted away as he savored the sensation of soft lips sliding up and down his shaft. Katrina had been waking him up like this for a week. Alex congratulated himself on his own cleverness. Having a cock-hungry slut to use as an alarm clock actually made waking up a pleasant experience.

His cock rapidly stirred to attention. Katrina’s technique seemed different somehow this morning. More experienced, perhaps. Alex closed his eyes and sighed as the slut picked up the pace of her pumping. He was going to come in record time if she kept this up. Well, perhaps the slut deserved a little reward for her hard work. “Okay, hands and knees, bitch,” he declared. “I’m going to come in your tight little pussy this morning.”

“Silly Alex,” Tiffany giggled. “I don’t have time for that.”

Alex’s head snapped up, looking down at his crotch. His eyes bulged out of his face as he stared in disbelief. The lips wrapped around his cock weren’t those of his sister; they belonged to his blonde stepmother. She was wearing nothing but a skimpy red bra, matching lace panties, and high heels. “Tiff... Tiffany?” Alex asked incredulously. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Waking you up, honey,” she replied, removing her mouth from his cock for an instant. “Now lie back and let me finish,” she admonished.

Stunned into silence, Alex fell back onto the bed. What the hell was going on? This wasn’t a dream; he’d already woken up. Surely it wasn’t possible to have a dream about having a dream. Was it?

It felt too good to be a dream; Tiffany’s cocksucking technique was quite well-developed, and despite his confusion and embarrassment Alex found himself quickly approaching orgasm. He felt his crotch spasm as his cock shot its load into his stepmother’s mouth. All through it she continued teasing him with her tongue and lips, drawing every last bit of come out of him.

At last, he was done. His body sagged as he felt the last of his spunk leave him. He was aware of Tiffany rising from the bed. She looked down at him, fixing him with a lusty gaze as she brought a finger up to wipe a small rivulet of his come away from the corner of her mouth. She brought the finger to her mouth, licking off the white cream. “Good morning, Alex,” she whispered lustily.

Just then, Katrina appeared in the doorway, wearing an outfit very similar to Tiffany’s, albeit in black rather than red. She looked at Tiffany, then at Alex, then back at her stepmother. “Tiffany!” she yelled.

Tiffany grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. You snooze, you lose. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go fix breakfast.” She slid past the stunned redhead and out of the room. Katrina looked back at Alex’s flaccid cock, her lower lip trembling. She looked to be on the verge of tears. “Alex...” she whined.

“Not now, Katrina,” Alex said. He had to figure out what was going on.

“Alex...” Katrina pleaded, “Please... let me... let me suck your cock...”

“Oh, fine, go ahead,” Alex sighed, leaning back to give her access to his cock. His cock-hungry slut of a sister gasped in relief as she ran over to the bed. Moments later she had taken him into her mouth and begun sucking eagerly. Alex was only dimly aware of her efforts, however; his mind was busy trying to understand Tiffany’s behavior.

Tiffany pulled a compact out of her purse and checked her makeup as she rode the hotel elevator. She touched up her lipstick and fussed with her hair a bit, making sure she looked as sexy as possible. Satisfied, she put away the compact and pulled the fur coat tighter around her. This was her first job without Vince along, and she was feeling a bit nervous.

Over the past week, she’d made at least one delivery for Vince every single day. Just the day before, in fact, Vince had driven her around town to make three different deliveries in one afternoon. Every delivery, of course, meant a fuck, sometimes more than one. After the first few days, Vince had doubled her prices, telling her she was the finest slut in town. She’d been so proud to hear that. That meant she got paid a thousand dollars for a suck and fuck. Well, actually Vince got most of that. She was his bitch, after all. But it was enough for her to know that her body was worth a thousand dollars.

Tonight, though, was different. There was no delivery tonight; tonight was purely a sex job. That was fine with Tiffany. She would do whatever Vince told her—she wanted nothing more than to please him—but it really made her nervous to be delivering drugs. Tonight she was a birthday present. Vince had already been paid; all she had to do was go to the hotel room, fuck the birthday boy, and leave.

The elevator reached her floor and she stepped out into the hallway, holding the coat closed with one hand. She found the door she wanted and knocked softly. Letting the coat fall open to reveal the skimpy dress she wore underneath it, she struck a sexy pose, leaning one hand against the doorframe. This was probably the only time in the guy’s life that he’d get the chance to fuck a thousand-dollar pussy. She wanted him to know he was in for the time of his life.

The door opened, revealing a nervous-looking young man. He was well-built and athletic-looking, but definitely underage. Something about him looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite remember where from. Well, no time for that now. She licked her upper lip and spoke in a lusty voice. “Happy birthday, honey.” She ran one hand along her hip, caressing the thin material of the silver dress.

“H-hi,” the boy stammered. “C-come on in,” he added, stepping back out of the doorway, his eyes flicking feverishly up and down her body.

She stepped into the luxurious hotel room. “So how old are you, stud?” she asked, looking around at the elegant furniture.

“Eighteen,” the boy responded in a small voice. Tiffany groaned with excitement. Like a little brother to her. She felt the familiar clenching in her pussy as she thought about it. Fucking her little brother. Being a slut for her little brother. The idea got her so horny.

She turned to face him, smiling coyly. “A handsome guy like you, you’re probably pretty popular with the girls at school, huh?

“Uh... well...”

Tiffany ran one hand along his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Damn, you’re built.” It was true; he was very muscular. “You’ve got those cute young things throwing themselves at you, don’t you?”

“Well... I...”

She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the coat open to reveal her fabulous body. “Be honest with me...” She thrust her chest forward, emphasizing her generous cleavage. “Am I as pretty as they are?” She ran one hand idly over the round globe of her right tit.

The boy swallowed, trembling. “Y-yes.”

She smiled. “You’re so sweet. Now come here,” she said in a husky voice, running her tongue along her upper lip for emphasis. He stepped nervously toward her, and she pulled him down to her, kissing him lustily. Their tongues met eagerly as she sucked hungrily on his lips. “Oh, you hot young stud,” she moaned as their lips parted. “Tell me...” she whispered. “Have you ever fucked a cheerleader?”

“N-no,” he stammered, eyes widening.

She kissed him again, shrugging off the coat and caressing his muscular arms. “But you want to, don’t you?” she asked. “You see them around school, wearing those skimpy outfits...”

“Oh, God,” he moaned, his eyes closing as she pulled his body down to meet hers.

“... jumping up and down at football games, showing off their hot little bodies. Makes you just want to throw them on the ground and fuck them, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yeah... oh, yeah,” he gasped as she slid her pelvis against his crotch.

“Well, guess what, honey?” she asked coyly. “Tonight’s your lucky night.” She kissed him again. “Tonight I’m going to be your little cheerleader.”

“Oh, God,” he moaned as she caressed his back.

Tiffany felt her pussy growing wet as she seduced the boy. It was too bad she hadn’t brought her cheerleading uniform with her. Oh, well. “But I want you to promise me something...”

“Wh-what?”

“I want you to promise me you’re going to fuck me like you want to fuck those little cheerleader bitches at school.” She smiled wickedly. “When you’re fucking me with that delicious cock...” She grabbed his crotch for emphasis. “... I want you to imagine I’m one of those sexy young teases at school. I want to feel like I’m one of those stuck-up little bitches while you bang me.” The youth was gasping already as she unbuttoned his shirt. “Can you do that for me, honey? Can you make me feel like I’m the bratty little cheerleader, and you’re the studly captain of the football team popping my cherry?”

“O-okay”

“Oh, good, I’ve always wanted to get my pussy fucked by a hot young hunk.” She pulled him down to the bed, gripping his shoulders tightly as she wrapped her legs around his ass, grinding her crotch against his through their clothes. The fantasy she was constructing was getting her incredibly horny. She didn’t roleplay like this with the regular clients. The older men didn’t really spark her interest like that.

But this was different. This young man... this boy got her incredibly horny. The idea of being a hot young high school cheerleader getting fucked by him had her pussy dripping with lust. In fact, there was only one thing she wanted more...

Swiftly and certainly, Tiffany rolled the boy over, pinning him face-up to the bed while she lay over him. “I know,” she whispered, “something even hotter. Let’s pretend I’m your sister. I’m your horny older sister.” The boy was staring at her, transfixed. “At school, I’m the snobby cheerleader, showing my hot little body off to all those horny boys, just being a stuck-up little cock tease.”

Tiffany slid down his body and swiftly unzipped his pants. She was making it up as she went along, and yet it was like she knew every word by heart. “But there’s only one cock I really want.” She freed the boy’s shaft from the confines of his slacks. “I want my little brother’s cock. And when I get home from school, all I want to do is be my little brother’s slut.” She stroked the erect member with one hand, licking her lips as she stared at it rapturously. “I’ll do whatever he wants just so I can have his cock.”

Tiffany dove onto the boy’s rigid member, slurping hungrily as she pumped her head up and down. He gasped and moaned as she swirled her tongue along the underside of his cock. She paused after a few strokes, her lips hanging just above the swollen purple head. “Do you like it, little brother? Do you like it when your sexy big sister sucks your cock?”

“Oh, God! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes!”

“Tell me to suck it. Tell your sister to suck your cock.”

“Suck me, sis! Suck me!”

Tiffany obliged, taking his member into her mouth once again. She groaned with pleasure as the boy’s words fueled her own incestuous fantasy. Never before had she delved this far into her little-brother fetish. It felt almost real this time.

That morning, when she’d sucked Alex off, she’d felt a glimmer of the excitement she was feeling now. The urge to give Alex a blowjob had hit her every morning for the past week. Finally, she’d yielded to her desires and done it. It had been an incredibly erotic experience. If only Alex could be her brother rather than her stepson.

She continued to suck the boy as she felt her pussy clenching with desire. She felt him approaching orgasm and slipped his cock out of her mouth. Not yet. She couldn’t let him come yet.

Tiffany massaged his engorged prick gently with one hand, stimulating him just enough to maintain his erection. He humped desperately against her fingers. “Oh, God...”

“Not yet, little brother,” Tiffany said soothingly. “Your big sister still wants to feel your cock up her pussy.” She rose to her knees and straddled his stomach, pulling the flimsy dress up to expose her dripping snatch. She positioned her tight ass against his erect member and began softly humping up and down, massaging his prick with the firm cheeks. The boy gasped and moaned as she stimulated him, and Tiffany felt her juices dripping from her pussy to pool on his tight stomach.

Tiffany shrugged the dress’s straps off her shoulders, letting it fall to expose her boobs. She smiled as the young man goggled at her chest. “Do you like your big sister’s tits?” she asked, massaging them. “Does your sister have a nice rack?” She twirled her left nipple between thumb and forefinger.

“Oh... oh, yeah,” he gasped.

“Well, why don’t you show your sister how much you like her big tits?” she asked, leaning forward. She fell to her hands, hanging one ripe melon over the boy’s quivering lips. She gasped as she felt his mouth encircle the erect nipple, slurping and sucking at it. “Oh... Oh, God, yes! Suck it, little brother.” Bent over as she was, his cock was now nestled against the folds of her smoothly-shaved pussy. The youth sucked harder at her tit as she ground her pussy against the rock-hard shaft.

“Yeah! Suck your sister’s big boobs!” she exhorted, shifting her body so the other erect nipple was in front of him. He took it eagerly into his mouth as she kneaded the tit with one hand. “None of those little cheerleader sluts are built like your big sister, are they? None of them have tits like these, do they?”

“N-no... no, sis,” he groaned around her tit. Tiffany growled with delight and pushed her boobs harder against his eager lips and tongue. In her mind, she really was seducing her little brother. God, Katrina was so lucky to have someone like Alex. If only he were her brother. She’d almost felt like he was that morning when her lips had been wrapped around his gorgeous cock.

She had to have it! Tiffany rolled onto her back, pulling the breathless boy on top of her. “Your sister needs your cock in her pussy,” she breathed. “Show your big sister what a stud you are.” She spread her legs, pulling him toward her. “Fuck me. Fuck your big sister.”

The boy needed no further encouragement and promptly sank his prick into her dripping snatch. “Oh, God!” Tiffany gasped as she felt her pussy split open with his penetration. “Yes! Fuck me like you want to fuck those little cockteasing cheerleaders at school!”

“Oh... oh, yeah...” the boy gasped as he slid his shaft in and out of her cunt.

Tiffany humped back at him, her pelvis rising to meet his thrusts. The sensations were more intense than any she’d ever felt before. But there was more she wanted. “Tell your sister what a filthy slut she is!”

“You’re... you’re a s-slut, sis!”

“Tell her she’s a whore! Call your sister a whore!” Tiffany groaned, pinching and kneading her tits as she ground her hips against her young lover.

“You... you whore! Slut!” he growled as he continued to fuck her.

“Harder! Harder!” Tiffany shrieked. “Show your big sister what it’s like to have a real stud in her pussy!” She was rewarded with an acceleration of his pace. She grunted every time his cock slammed into her, each thrust driving her one step closer to the powerful orgasm she felt building within her. “Tell me... ugh! Tell me... ohhh!... I’m your bitch!”

“You’re... Ugh! You’re my bitch, sis!”

He had barely done more than echo her words, but it was enough. Her body exploded in ecstasy as she screamed incoherently through the most incredible orgasm she’d ever experienced. Her pussy spasmed around the boy’s cock, and she was aware of his seed spurting into the depths of her cunt. Ever the showgirl, she arched her back and cupped her tits as the burning pleasure consumed her body.

After what seemed an eternity of release, she collapsed to the bed, exhausted. Sweat ran off her face into her hair, its scent contributing to the odor of sheer animal lust that permeated the room. Her chest heaved as she sucked in great gasps of air. The boy, mercifully, was able to support himself on his outstretched arms and didn’t collapse on top of her.

She lay there, panting, the young cock in her pussy slowly softening. Her mind drifted. She’d come so close to realizing her dream. Fucking her little brother, blowing her little brother, being a slut for her little brother. In her mind, she’d done it, and as a result she’d come more powerfully than she ever had before.

“Happy birthday!” The shout came from several men at once. Tiffany looked up and struggled to make sense of things through the post-orgasmic haze. The walk-in closet on the far side of the room had opened up, revealing perhaps a dozen or so large men. Familiar men, somehow...

“Quite a performance, there, Trent,” one of the men said enthusiastically. “You handled this sweet little filly just as well as you handled that touchdown drive in the state championship.”

Trent... Football... Tiffany turned to look at the boy, her mind reeling as she recognized him. The young quarterback from the banquet! Christ, not only had she met him before, he’d already fucked her! Surely he’d recognized her. Had he been too shy to say anything? Too horny? Then who were...

“After seeing his workout,” another man remarked, “I think we’re going to have to recommend that the Tigers draft him when he gets out of college.” The group laughed uproariously at that, slapping each other on the back and exchanging high fives.

Tigers... Oh, God. Tiffany turned to scan the faces of the group, praying that she wouldn’t recognize any of them.

“Tiffany?” asked an astonished voice.

She looked, and there he was. Strangely, the only thing she could think of was the trickle of come she felt dripping from between her wide-open legs.

“Holy shit!” Greg exclaimed. “That’s my fucking wife!