The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Brother Likes Boobs

By Pan

Chapter 4:

I got a lot of attention at the mall.

I wasn’t surprised, of course. I had such huge boobs, and everyone knows that big boobs are sexy. I hated having to keep my tits out of sight, so I’d dressed to show off. Not just my amazing fat tits—the rest of me deserved some attention as well. But most importantly:

I obviously lived for sex.

Obviously.

The mall only had one lingerie shop that catered to girls as big as mine. Despite working in a store dedicated to brassieres for large-breasted women, the girl behind the counter still gawked when I entered.

God I’ve got huge boobs.

I smiled at her. For the first time in my life, I was tongue-tied; I wanted her help, of course—I hated having to keep my tits out of sight, and I was sure she’d be able to help me show them off.

But asking for help…I really wanted to embrace my submissive nature, and asking for assistance somehow felt like the opposite.

I was built to serve. How could I ask her to serve me?

Fortunately, as I stood there, my mouth flapping like I was a lost fish, she spoke up.

“Wow,” she said, eyebrows raised. “Looking for some new underwear?”

I nodded, and she stepped out from behind the counter. She looked like she was barely out of high school; she had dyed black hair and a nose-ring, but a friendly demeanor.

“My boyfriend would love you,” she muttered.

Of course he would, I silently told myself. Everyone loved me.

Everyone.

“Okay,” she said, flipping through one of the racks. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

For the next few minutes, I stood there silently as the shop assistant stacked up a small pile of bras. Neither of us said much—she’d occasionally ask my opinion on a particular item, and I’d nod my approval.

Finally, she handed me the pile and put one hand on my back, directing me to the change room.

I obeyed, of course. To serve is to obey, and I’m built to serve.

I’m built to serve.

Once in the private stall, I undid the black button-up top I’d worn in, breathing a sigh of relief as my huge boobs came into view. God I hated having to keep my tits out of sight. If I could have, I’d have tried on the lingerie in the middle of the mall, where everyone could see.

The thought made me moan. I lived for sex. I hated having to keep my tits out of sight. I just wished I could be more…obvious about it.

“Are you okay in there?”

My eyes widened. The young woman must have heard my moans.

I was so wet.

“No,” I lied.

Everyone loved me.

Everyone had to.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Yes,” I moaned. I hadn’t even tried on the first bra yet—my hands were on my fat tits, groping and caressing them.

But the rest of me deserved some attention as well.

The door slid open, and the black-haired girl’s eyebrows were raised one more.

“Wow,” she said flatly.

Before she could say anything, I’d grabbed her hands and moved them to my chest. Fat tits felt amazing, and everyone had to know. Everyone had to love me.

My lips moved to hers, and I soon learned that she had a tongue piercing.

“God,” she panted. “Your fat tits feel amazing.”

I nodded.

“You obviously live for sex.”

I nodded again.

“You’ve got such huge boobs.”

“Mmm.”

For the first time since I’d met her, the shopgirl smiled.

“But the rest of you deserves some attention as well…”

Her lips once more met mine, and her hand moved between my legs. Within a few moments, I was squirming and panting under her touch, and it wasn’t long before I was quivering in a quick, satisfying orgasm.

We sat in the small changing room, smiling at each other…but something didn’t feel right.

I was built to serve.

“My turn,” I said, and the shopgirl’s eyes lit up as dropped to my knees, lifted her skirt, and lowered her cotton panties.

She was already soaking wet.

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, I truly embraced my submissive nature.

The shopgirl’s name was Angela—Angie, for short. After I brought her to two orgasms with my tongue, I think she got it.

“Everyone must love you,” she said, smiling down at me. “You’re built to serve.”

I nodded.

“You’re always wet.”

“I’m always wet,” I gasped in response.

“To serve is to obey.”

“To serve is to obey.”

“Will you obey?”

I nodded.

“Good,” she said. “Pass me my phone?”

I obeyed.

Angie’s conversation with her boyfriend didn’t take long. As she got dressed and returned to watch the store, she told me to try on the pile she’d picked out for me.

I obeyed.

They all looked great. I hated having to keep my fat, amazing tits out of sight, but god, they were so huge; if I was naked, the rest of me wouldn’t get the attention it deserved.

My favorite piece was a red, lacy teddy—it had a deep plunging neckline, showing off my big, sexy boobs, but showing off the rest of me as well.

I wore it out of the changing room, and Angie smiled at the sight of it.

“You obviously live for sex,” she said, and I blushed. “Mac is going to be here in a few minutes. He’s going to have a lot of fun with you.”

I nodded. After I paid for all my new outfits, I sat quietly in the corner of the room, embracing my submissive nature.

To serve is to obey.

I was so wet. I was always wet.

Before Mac could arrive, however, I got a phone-call from my brother.

“Can I answer this?” I asked, and Angie shot me a strange look.

“Of course,” she said, before turning her attention to the large-chested older woman who had just entered the store.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” my brother asked. He laughed when I told him.

“Okay,” he said. “Just…be safe. You’re valuable property.”

For a moment I thought the connection must have dropped out, because the last few words he said barely even sounded like him.

Be safe.

You’re valuable property.

I wrinkled up my nose. I must have misheard him. What he’d said, that…that didn’t make sense.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, my head still wrapping around the last few things he’d said.

Be safe.

You’re valuable property.

The first part made sense. Be safe. Be safe. Be safe. That was just standard brotherly advice.

Be safe. I could do that.

Of course I’d be safe. I wasn’t stupid.

It was the second half that I was stuck on.

You’re valuable property.

I stood up and returned to the changing room, staring at myself in the mirror.

God I had huge boobs.

I smiled at the thought.

I obviously lived for sex. Big boobs were so sexy; I hate having to keep my tits out of sight.

I’m valuable property.

My forehead furrowed once more. Valuable…property.

Valuable, yes. Everyone loved me. That’s like, the definition of valuable. If everyone loved me, I was inherently valuable. Of course.

Valuable…property.

Property.

Property meant that I belonged to someone. That I was a thing. Chattel. An object.

That someone owned me.

I shivered at the thought. I was built to serve, and had embraced my submissive nature. The submissive side of me—eg all of me—looooved the idea of being owned.

I wanted to be owned. I wanted to be property.

Valuable property.

I was valuable property.

I was built to serve, and I was valuable property.

But in order to be property, I needed an owner.

My whole body throbbed at the thought. I lived for sex, obviously.

Everyone loved me, but I had an owner.

“Mac!”

I turned at the sound of Angie’s excitement. Mac! Could Mac be my owner?

Be safe.

I’d never met Mac. I knew he’d love me—everyone loved me—but was I his property?

I was valuable property, I knew that for a fact. But whose?

Be safe.

I obviously lived for sex. I was always wet. I was built to serve.

But I was someone’s property.

And I had to be safe.

The curtain was pulled to the side, and Angie excitedly presented me.

“This is Mac,” she said, looking at him admiringly. He looked…fairly unremarkable, if I’m being honest. He was a well-groomed man, a little shorter than my brother. He had a short beard and was wearing a suit and tie.

As his eyes travelled up and down my body, I couldn’t help but thrust out my chest.

Of course, I couldn’t forget—the rest of me deserved some attention as well.

He reached out and ran one finger down my cheek. I shivered. I was wet.

I was always wet.

“God you’ve got huge tits,” he said admiringly. “I bet they feel amazing.”

I nodded, causing my sexy big boobs to bounce slightly.

“Everyone must love you.”

I nodded again, not talking. Embracing my submissive nature.

Being safe.

“Show me,” he said, and my boobs were out almost before he had finished the thought. I hated having to keep my tits out of sight.

“You,” he said slowly, “obviously live for sex.”

I nodded, and he reached out, grabbing my tits.

It felt amazing.

“Please,” I gasped. “Can I serve you?”

Mac smiled, and gave a short nod. Before he could say anything, I was on my knees in front of him.

I lived for sex. I was built to serve.

To serve is to obey.

Looking up at Mac, I took him in my mouth. It wasn’t long before I was swallowing down his load obediently.

“You really found a gem here, Angie,” he said, letting go of my hair. He glanced down at me admiringly. “Do you want to come home with us?”

You’re built to serve.

To serve is to obey.

You obviously live for sex.

Embrace your submissive nature.

You’re valuable property.

I blinked twice.

Be safe.

“No,” I said. “Thank you, but no.”

Mac nodded, his hand reaching down to caress my ass. Good. The rest of me deserved some attention as well.

“Shall we play some more here, then?”

“Yes, please,” I gasped. He was already hard again. “Do you have a condom?”

“I do,” he nodded. “I’m glad you’re being safe. You’re valuable property.”

* * *

Angie let us stay past closing time. By the time we were done, I’d served Angie and Mac multiple times. They loved me. They loved my fat tits—everyone loved my tits—which felt amazing, but they made sure to pay attention to the rest of me as well.

They wore out before I did, of course. I obviously lived for sex, and I was always wet. They let me embrace my submissive nature, but we were always safe.

I was valuable property.

But whose property?

Angie and Mac offered to give me a ride home, but I declined. I’d only known them for a single day, and I knew I had to be safe.

I was valuable property.

Instead, I changed into something a little less revealing—I hated having to keep my tits out of sight (everyone knows: big boobs are sexy), but it was important to be safe.

Not that I really had much to worry about. Everyone loved me.

On the subway ride home, I felt ridiculous, covering so much skin. I quickly made a game of it, embracing my submissive nature. Anyone who stared at my chest got flashed. Not just my boobs (god they were huge); the rest of me deserved some attention as well.

Besides, I obviously lived for sex.

When I got home, my brother was waiting for me. His eyes ran up and down my body, clearly enjoying what he saw. I wasn’t surprised—everyone loved me.

“You look good,” he said, which surprised me. I hated having to keep my tits out of sight. Everyone knows big boobs are sexy.

“Thanks,” I said, nodding at him as he ascended the stairs. Just as he was about to disappear into his room, he turned back, a half-smile on his face.

“If you weren’t my sister…” he said, and I tilted my head to the side.

“What?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he said, closing his door and leaving me alone and confused.