The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Who could that be?” Elizabeth’s mother, Lisa tutted.

“What?” the eighteen-year-old schoolgirl asked, confused.

“The door, dummy,” Elizabeth’s older sister Samantha sighed. No one could have mistaken that she and Samantha were sisters, both blonde and attractive. Even if Elizabeth hadn’t changed out of her school uniform, dark green plaid skirt and light blue blouse, before starting on her homework, while her sister was lounging about in jeans and a tee-shirt. “If you hadn’t had your head stuck in your books, you might have heard.”

With their mother heading out of the kitchen and in the direction of the front door, Samantha allowed that her sister was probably right. On both counts.

“At least my marks are better than yours were,” the younger sister grizzled from where she sat, laptop open and books surrounding her.

“No one cares about your high school grades once you’re in university,” Samantha pointed out. “And anyway, we’ll see if your finals are as good as mine.”

Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself rising to the bait. “I bet mine’ll be better.”

“Oh yeah?” her sister shot back, rising from her stool at the kitchen bench and glaring at her younger sister. She certainly made a sight, hands on hips and silky hair flowing about her shoulders. Elizabeth’s was just as long, but still pulled back in the ponytail she’d put it in for school. “Anyway,’ Samantha continued, “it’s not all marks these days. You want a decent job you need a more rounded portfolio.”

Elizabeth didn’t care if her sister was still glaring at her. She’d heard that speech too many times. She did admit that mouthing along with ‘more rounded portfolio’ probably hadn’t helped.

It was also probably what prompted her sister to keep going. “You keep your head stuck in your books and you see where it gets you.”

“At least I don’t read trash,” Elizabeth shot back.

“At least I read something written in the last hundred years,” Samantha shot back. “You do know they only give writing awards to living authors, don’t you?”

“Girls!” their mother cut in. “Do you always have to be like this?”

Both siblings had the decency to look sheepish. Elizabeth did love her sister, but over the years everything seemed to have deteriorated into a competition. Who got the better marks. Who had the better friends. Whose music was better. They’d argue about anything.

Maybe it was just part of growing up. Maybe they’d stop it when they were older.

“This gentleman has something to show you,” their mother continued.

Elizabeth had been so deep in her argument with her sister that she hadn’t noticed that her mother hadn’t been alone. There was a man with her. A stranger. He seemed to be about thirty. And wearing a suit. He wasn’t particularly good looking. Or bad. Just sort of average. With a face you’d forget. The suit was probably the best thing about him. It might even have been tailor-made.

“Indeed I do,” the man smiled.

He was holding a large briefcase. Was he some sort of door-to-door salesman? He might be, but his suit looked too good for that. And he was wearing glasses, with thin metal frames. They made the blue of his eyes startlingly bright.

Elizabeth wondered if that was the glasses or if his eyes were actually like that.

“I’ll, uh, leave you to it then,” Elizabeth’s mother said. There was something odd about her voice. Distracted, her mind elsewhere.

“Thank you, Lisa,” the man smiled. It seemed an overly familiar way to address her mother. But something stopped Elizabeth objecting. Her mother didn’t seem to mind either, simply turning and hurrying away to another part of the house. Elizabeth noticed that her mother was holding something. Two packages. Neither that large.

She’d been so caught up in bickering with her sister, that she hadn’t noticed those either. For a moment she thought she’d caught a long blue image on the side of one of the boxes that could almost be a cock.

She had to be mistaken.

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying,” Samantha grumped.

“I hope you’ll at least give me a chance.” The man’s smile was almost a leer as he looked from one sister to another.

That should bother her, Elizabeth tried telling herself. Somehow it didn’t.

“So, you’re Elizabeth, right?” the man asked her. “Last year in high school? And Samantha, still at university?”

He barely waited for the sisters’ agreement before continuing.

The eyes behind those glasses really were an odd shade of blue.

“Study is important,” the man told the sisters. He’d known their names. Elizabeth wasn’t sure how. Maybe their mother had told him? Shouldn’t he tell them his name?

Elizabeth couldn’t worry about that. She was just looking at his eyes behind those glasses. And listening to him.

“But you know what they say,” the man continued. “Healthy mind in a healthy body.” He almost seemed amused by his own words. “And when you’re studying it’s hard fitting in a decent exercise regime. So much easier when the equipment is on hand.”

“Is that what you selling?’ Samantha scoffed from beside Elizabeth. “Home gym equipment? Sorry, not buying. I use the gym at university. Although maybe she needs it.”

“No I don’t!” Elizabeth protested. “I exercise! At school! And I play sport. I bet I’m fitter than you are! When was the last time you played sport?” She wasn’t letting her sister get one up on her.

“Girls, girls.” The man’s voice drew Elizabeth’s attention back to him. To those eyes. Or maybe it was to those glasses. Elizabeth couldn’t work it out. Her thoughts were sluggish. Maybe that’s what stopped her getting too worried about what he’d called them or the condescending tone in his voice. “I can tell you both look pretty fit. But do you exercise properly?”

Elizabeth frowned. She couldn’t work out what the man meant. It did sound like any easy question. She exercised. And trained. And the teachers and coaches worked out her routine. So it had to be right. So she could tell him that and…

His eyes really were something.

“Mine’s better than hers,” Samantha grizzled. Elizabeth wanted to say something to that. But the man was speaking.

“Well. Maybe. But do either of you do it properly?” Elizabeth couldn’t work out what he meant by that. Maybe if she kept listening it would make sense. And that would mean she could keep looking at his eyes. “I mean, I bet you use your arms. And your legs. But what about the rest of you?”

“And my core,” Samantha pointed out. “And glutes. Bet you don’t do those at school.”

Elizabeth’s head snapped to her sister. Samantha was smirking at her. “Do too!” the younger sister shot back. She’d wanted to say something a more eloquent than that, but she couldn’t put the words together.

“Girls!” Two heads swivelled back to the man. It had almost been a command.

Those eyes.

“That’s good,” the man smiled. “Sounds like you’re thinking about your bodies. They’re very nice bodies, by the way.”

Elizabeth frowned. Or at least she tried to. A stranger shouldn’t say things like that to her. Especially not in her own house. She…

She should keep looking at his eyes.

That made sense.

“And you use your bodies. Every day. Walking around, you’re using your legs. And you use your arms. And hands. Reaching for things. Holding them. You use your head. Your mouth. Your lips.”

As the man listed off each part of her body Elizabeth was so aware of it. A delicious tingle leapt through her at each word, leaving a pleasant warmth behind.

But there were parts it missed.

“But do you use all of your body?”

Elizabeth couldn’t make any sense of the question. Her head was all sort of soft and mushy. Warm and pleasant mushy. But mushy just the same.

It looked like her sister was having the same problems. “Uh, um, yeah?” Samantha’s voice quavered. It hardly sounded like her at all.

“I don’t know,” the man pondered, shaking his head. “What about your breasts?”

Elizabeth did frown this time. What about her breasts? She looked down at her chest, where her breasts lay underneath her pale blue blouse, resting in her bra. She didn’t spend long looking. She had to look back at the man’s eyes.

“Wh-what do y-you mean?” the blonde schoolgirl stammered.

“Well,” the man explained. “I can see that Samantha here makes some use of her breasts.” He indicated the neck line of Elizabeth’s sister’s tee-shirt, low enough to expose part of her chest. “But is that it, Samantha? Just showing a little? Like a little tease? Or do you play with them? Do you let anyone else play with them?”

Samantha’s cheeks were red with embarrassment. “I do,” she shot back, her chin lifted defiantly. “Sometimes. And sometimes I let my boyfriend play with them.”

“Oh,” the man grinned. “That’s good. Not quite a tease then. Have you got a boyfriend now?”

“No,” Samantha answered quietly.

“Then they’re not getting much use now, are they?” the man observed reprovingly. Samantha almost looked ashamed. “What about you, Elizabeth? Do your breasts see any use?”

“She wouldn’t know what to do with them!” Samantha grinned.

“Do so!” Elizabeth retorted. Then wondered if she should have. “I-I play with them. Sometimes.” She wasn’t going to elaborate on that. It had only been a very few times. When she had…

The man considered her response. “Hmm. I don’t know. I can’t see any of them. You’re not doing anything with them now. I don’t even know if they’re worth playing with. Or which are better. Samantha, are your tits better than your sister’s?”

Samantha didn’t object to man using the words ‘tits’ instead of ‘breasts’. Elizabeth thought that her sister should have. She should as well. She…

The man’s eyes were so blue.

“Of course they are,” her sister declared proudly.

“So you have better tits than your sister?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, show me,” the man said, as if it was something simple.

“I,” Samantha frowned, looking around nervously. “Ah.” But then her eyes went back to the man’s.

So did Elizabeth’s.

“Show me your tits,” he ordered Elizabeth’s sister.

Samantha didn’t hesitate this time, shucking off her t-shirt and then her bra to sit half-naked in front of the man.

“See?” she said proudly. “They’re better tits than hers!”

“Not bad,” the man allowed. “To be honest, they’re pretty good. That’s a nice pair of tits. And you’re putting them to use now, letting me see them. That’s good. But what do you think, Elizabeth, do you think those tits are better than yours? Have a look.”

Elizabeth didn’t want to look. She shouldn’t look at her sister’s tits. She just wanted to gaze into the man’s eyes. But he’d told her to look at her sister’s tits.

So she had to.

She’d never seen her sister’s tits before.

Elizabeth didn’t know a lot about tits. Not comparatively anyway. But her sister’s did look pretty good. Firm and perky. Just like hers. Probably around the same size, too. Elizabeth’s were a B-cup. Round. That was good, right? But Samantha’s looked much the same. Elizabeth couldn’t tell if her sister’s tits were better.

She didn’t want her sister to have better tits than hers.

“I-I don’t know,” she managed.

“Of course mine are better,” Samantha huffed, pulling her shoulders back to give her assets that much more prominence.

Elizabeth didn’t like that all.

“I’ll show you mine!” Elizabeth cried. She had to. She couldn’t let her sister win this. But if the man could see Samantha’s tits and not hers he was sure to think that her sister’s were better.

“Good idea,” the man smiled, although it was more of a grin now. “How are we going to know if we don’t compare them properly? Elizabeth, show us your tits.”

For a moment Elizabeth hesitated. She wasn’t going to show her tits to some stranger. Her sister could be a slut if she liked but…

Maybe looking back at the man had been a mistake, thoughts leaking out of Elizabeth’s head.

Before today she’d never really known what electric blue eyes looked like

He wanted to see her tits. So he could see which of the sister’s had better tits. That made sense. Elizabeth wasn’t about to let her sister get one up on her.

She went to loosen that school tie.

“Leave that on,” the man ordered. “And put the blouse back on once the bra is off. That’ll frame them better.”

Elizabeth’s fingers were shaking as she undid each button on her blouse. She didn’t know why they were doing that. She was just showing her tits to the man. That’s what he’d told her to do. So that she could show him that her tits were better than her sister’s. After doffing her bra, she hastily put her blouse back on. But she didn’t do it up, the sides hanging lose to show off her tits, her school tie hanging between them

That’s what he’d wanted.

It would help her show that her tits were better.

“Hmm,” the man considered as the two sisters sat there with their breasts on display. “I don’t know. Maybe if you play with them.”

Elizabeth swallowed nervously. She had said she did. And she had. Once or twice. But she wasn’t exactly sure what she should do. She watched her sister out of the corner of her eye, as Samantha squeezed and fondled her own tits, tweaking her nipples. Elizabeth mimicked the gestures. Anything her sister could do, so could she. And it did feel nice. More than nice, the wonderful sensations shooting down to her centre, which was feeling almost as warm and mushy as her head.

“That’s enough,” the man declared. “Very nice playing girls, but I want to see those tits.”

Two pairs of hands dropped to their owner’s sides.

“It feels good, showing off your tits like this,” the man declared.

It did. Any hesitation Elizabeth had felt was gone. Her tits felt nice and warm under his gaze.

It was good to show off her tits.

“You love showing off your tits. Letting someone see them.”

Elizabeth did. She loved showing off her tits. Letting someone see them was the best.

“Tits, boobs, jugs, funbags. You don’t call them breasts.”

That was right too. She never called her tits breasts. Or maybe she preferred calling them boobs or jugs or funbags rather than tits. She wasn’t sure. All the words were good.

“You love the chance to play with them for someone.”

Elizabeth did. Her hands were aching to get back on her boobs so the man could see her play with them.

“So, which of you has the best tits?” the man asked.

Elizabeth looked from her jugs to her sister’s funbags. Hers had to be better.

“It’s not fair!” Samantha protested, pointing at her sister’s tits. “Looking like that she’s some sort of perv’s wet dream. Mine are better!”

“But you’re showing off all of yours,” the man pointed out. “Which is good right? Hers are a bit covered. On the side.” The man flicked at one edge of Elizabeth’s blouse. She didn’t mind at all. It meant he was looking at her tits.

“Anyway. You both have great tits. Nice and perky. Firm.”

The man liked her tits. Elizabeth liked that. She loved showing off her tits. But she wanted him to say that hers were better than her sister’s.

“And it’s good when someone compliments your tits. You love it when someone compliments your tits.”

It was. Elizabeth knew that. She loved it when someone complimented her tits. She was just dying for someone to call out ‘Hey, nice tits,’ to her.

“And you love showing them off.”

Elizabeth did. She’d have to work out some way to show them off at school. Maybe she could get away with undoing a button or two. Just enough to show something. If she was really naughty the top edge of her bra might flash into view sometime.

“Showing them off means you’re using them. At least a bit.” The man hesitated thoughtfully. “But I really can’t decide which are better.” Elizabeth deflated at that. She really wanted him to say her tits were better than Samantha’s. “Maybe,” the man continued, “if I could see your pussies I would be able to work out which of you had the better body.”

“What?” the two sisters cried in unison. That was too much. It was one thing showing this guy her boobs. Elizabeth loved showing her boobs off. Playing with them. But showing off her pussy? That was something else. Even to get one up on her sister that was going too far. Only a slut would show off her pussy.

And anyway, was that the word she should use? Elizabeth was sure there was something wrong with calling her pussy a pussy. But she couldn’t think what.

The look of disappointment on the man’s face had Elizabeth cringing. “Like I said, you need to use your whole body. A pair of sluts like you, you love showing off your pussies.”

That didn’t sound right. Elizabeth tried to fight through the mush in her head. She wasn’t a slut. She didn’t show off her pussy to strangers.

But his eyes were…

“You love showing off your pussy. You’re a slut. You get off on letting people see your pussy.”

Of course she did. She was a slut. And sluts loved showing off their pussies. They got off on it.

“Just hike the skirt up,” the man ordered as Elizabeth reached for the zipper. “Sami, get naked.”

Elizabeth did as she was ordered. She could see that Sami was doing that too. Sami was naked now, like a good slut. Elizabeth was being a good slut too, with her plaid skirt hiked around her hips, her blouse hanging open and her pussy in plain sight.

Now the man could see that she had the better body.

And if even if he didn’t, at least he could see her pussy. She loved showing off her pussy. That made it get so yummily warm and wet and it was such a turn on.

“Hmm, the man considered. “I don’t know. Have a look at each other’s pussies and see what I mean. What do you think, Lizzy?”

Lizzy frowned for a moment. Her name wasn’t Lizzy. It was Lizzy. That was. No.

His eyes.

Her name was Lizzy. Of course it was.

Lizzy looked at her sister’s pussy. She’d never seen another pussy before. It didn’t look quite like hers. Sami had shaved her pubic hair into a landing strip. Lizzy hadn’t done that. Did that make Sami’s pussy better than hers? God, she hoped not. She couldn’t let her sister get one over on her like that. She’d have to shave hers to match. A slut that liked showing off her pussy would do that.

She hoped that didn’t make Sami the better slut.

The man shook his head. “With all that hair. I don’t know. You two sluts just wait there. Oh, and you can keep looking at each other’s pussies. Play with your tits while you do. I know how much you love doing that.”

Lizzy sat there. She didn’t mind her state of undress. It was right for a slut like her. It felt good. So did laying with her tits. She wasn’t so sure about staring at her sister’s pussy while Sami stared at hers. But maybe someone looking at them would like the idea of a pair of sister sluts looking at each other’s pussies while they played with their tits.

Lizzy wasn’t sure though. Her head was still so mushy.

“Come over here,” the man ordered. He’d headed into the lounge room, taking his case with him. It was easy for Sami. She was naked. But when Lizzy had stood up, her skirt had fallen back into place. She could just leave it like that. With her blouse open her boobs were on view. But sluts liked showing off their pussies as well. Lizzy held her skirt around her waist as she headed after her sister. It did mean she only had one hand to play with her tits while Sami cold keep using both of hers.

That wasn’t fair.

The man had a small box that he’d retrieved from his case. It looked like one of the boxes Lizzy had seen her mother with. Not the one with the cock pictured on it, the other one. The man opened the box and pulled out a wand-like device. “Sit down,” he ordered. That at least meant that Lizzy could show off her pussy without having to keep holding her skirt up. “And stop playing with your tits.” Lizzy did. No matter how much she’d wanted to keep going. At least Sami had to stop as well. “I could do this myself. Or I could get you do it to yourself. But I think it would be better if you do it to each other. Right?”

The sisters just nodded. Lizzy wasn’t even sure what he was talking about. It felt good to agree. Tingly and warm and mushy.

“Who first? Lizzy, take this,” he ordered, handing over the wand without waiting for their reply. “Sami, spread your legs. Just so you know, this is permanent. Like permanent-permanent. More than lasers. The hair will never grow back. Just press it to her then move it over the skin, nice and slow.”

The mush in her head was making it so hard to think. Lizzy squinted at the wand in her hand and then at her sister’s pussy. If she understood correctly, she was about to permanently denude her sister. Sami would never have pubic hair again. Ever. And then he was probably going to get Sami to do it her. Lizzy glanced at her bush. She was proud of it. Sort of. It showed she was a grown woman. But she was a slut. Sluts loved showing off their pussies. Lizzy was a slut. What better way to show off her pussy than have it bare? The idea was already turning her on.

And if Sami’s pussy was going to be bare, hers would have to be as well.

It looked like the idea was turning Sami on too, Lizzy could see the dew on her sister’s lower lips. A moan escaped Sami as the wand made contact with her skin. Lizzy watched, fascinated, as the blonde hairs fell away from her sister’s centre, never to return.

“Make sure you get the parts she’s already shaved,” the man instructed.

Lizzy could do that, Sami visibly quivering as the wand slowly moved over her bare skin. Lizzy could almost see the follicles dying.

“Your turn, Lizzy. Lie back on the lounge so your sister can get at your pussy.”

Lizzy did as she was ordered. She even threw one leg over the back of the lounge so that she could show off her pussy even more. Sami hadn’t thought of that. Lizzy realised that she still had on her Mary Janes and knee-high black socks.

It didn’t matter.

Not with the delicious sensations flowing from her pussy as her sister pushed the wand to her skin. Lizzy didn’t even bother to try to stop the moan escaping her lips. Wonderful tingles, maybe each registering a hair dying, seeping through her, like a thousand fingers teasing her pussy. Her hips thrust up, almost by themselves. It was so good, she needed her sister to get every last hair.

Lizzy mewled in disappointment when her sister withdrew the wand. Not because she’d lost her pubic hair. Sluts were better off without that. But that the wonderful sensation had vanished.

“Sit up,” the man ordered, the sisters obeying instantly. “A naked slut and a schoolgirl slut. You’re definitely making use of all your bodies now. Good girls.”

Lizzy preened at the praise. So did Sami.

“And you both look good. I still can’t tell which is the better slut. But what are you going to do when I’m not here?”

Lizzy frowned. It was so hard to think, with the mush in her head. When the man wasn’t here, there wouldn’t be anyone to show her slutty young body off to. Sure, her mother and sister would be here. But that wasn’t the same. She wasn’t sure what she could do. There was the idea of undoing some buttons at school. And she could shorten her skirt. That way when she bent over, which she could do a lot, she could show off her panties. Which would be almost as good as showing off her pussy and definitely slutty. And then for outside school she could get some slutty clothes and-

“We could be strippers,” Sami declared.

Damn it, Lizzy fumed. Why hadn’t she thought of that? If she was a stripper she could show off her body a lot. Lots of people could see her tits and her pussy. But her sister had come up with the idea. Now the man would think Sami was the better slut.

“Not bad,” the man nodded thoughtfully, reinforcing Lizzy’s fears. “Not bad at all. You’re thinking like a slut. But being a stripper only lets people look at your body. It’s not really using it.”

“Pr—, pr—,” Lizzy cried. She couldn’t get her head around the word. “Whore!” she managed instead. “We could be whores.” That would definitely be using their bodies. Lots of people would be.

“Oh,” the man grinned. Oh God, his eyes. “I like that Lizzy. Or maybe I should call you Lizzy-whore.” Lizzy-whore liked that. It sounded like a good name. “But do you think you could do that? Whore out that teen body of yours?”

Lizzy-whore thought about it. At least as much as she could. Her head was so funny-mushy. Whoring was bad, wasn’t it? Letting just anyone have sex with you, for money?

Her thoughts drained away as she gazed into man’s eyes.

“She couldn’t do it,” Sami sneered. “She’s a virgin. She wouldn’t know what do.”

“Could too!” Lizzy-whore snapped. She could be a whore. She could be a great whore. Better than her sister. She’d be a teen whore. At least for a couple of years. Her sister was already twenty, so Sami couldn’t match that.

The man’s eyebrows rose, fixing Lizzy-whore with a stare from those eyes before turning back to Sami. “And what about you, Sami-slut, could you do it? Spread those legs and let any man fuck that pretty pussy?”

Sami-slut was obviously thinking about it, with the way her cheeks had flushed and her lips were quivering. Not to mention the obvious dew on her now-denuded centre.

“And what about you, Lizzy-whore? I’m sure you’d love it.”

Lizzy-whore was thinking about it too. How great it would be to get fucked by anyone who paid. She was getting even wetter than she already was, just thinking about it. She wasn’t sure how it would work. Would someone pick her off the street? Or maybe she’d work from somewhere? Or maybe even from home? It didn’t matter. She was sure the man would tell her how it worked. She was looking forward to days whoring out her virgin pussy.

Silly, she told herself. Whores aren’t virgins.

“Whoring out that sweet teen pussy,” the man grinned.

“Yeah,” Lizzy-whore smiled. She couldn’t believe how amazing it sounded. Those days would turn into weeks and months and years. Whoring. The guys who fucked her would get to see her tits and pussy. So she’d be showing them off. Plus, they’d be fucking her, so she’d be using everything she had.

She was almost cumming now.

“Sluts don’t get to cum unless they’re told to,” the man said.

Lizzy-whore quivered, hovering on the edge. She wanted to cum. But she couldn’t. Not until someone let her. She knew that.

It was part of being a good slut.

“And what about you, Sami-slut? You ready to whore out that juicy piece of fuckmeat you call a body?

“Oh God, yes,” Sami-slut replied blissfully. “I’ll be a better whore than her. I’ll earn so much more.”

We’ll see about that, Lizzy-whore thought waspishly. I’m younger than you, I’ll make heaps more money. She was just imagining how much men would want her. A hot schoolgirl whore. Maybe people she knew. Maybe some of her teachers. That would be so hot. She’d have to work out how to let them know she was a whore, her body for sale. They could lust after her at school then pound her whore-cunt afterwards.

Cunt. That was right. She’d known there was a word other than pussy.

Sami-slut probably hadn’t thought of that.

“Just wait there,” the man said, rising from his seat and sticking his head out the doorway that led to hall. “Hey Lisa!” he called. “Stop ramming your cunt with that vibrator for a minute and get in here.”

For a moment Lizzy-whore thought that the man shouldn’t talk to their mother like that. But if they were sluts then she probably was too. So that was okay.

Their mother didn’t seem at all worried about her daughters’ state of undress. Or their denuded cunts. Her cheeks were definitely flushed though.

Of course, that she was naked and her centre was as bare as her daughters meant that she was in no position to criticise.

“Have you sold them anything?” Lisa asked.

“Yep,” the man grinned. “I’ve sold them on becoming whores.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Lizzy-whore’s mother smiled distractedly. Lizzy-whore stared at her mother’s cunt. Her mother had been holding two boxes. Obviously the first one had held a vibrator. She was willing to be bet she knew what had been in the second box. “I’m sure they’ll be very good whores,” hr mother continued.

“You happy with that, Sami-slut? You happy to just be a slutty cumdumpster who gets fucked for money? Dropping out of university and just letting anyone use your body?”

If the look on her face was anything to go by, Sami-slut definitely seemed happy with the idea. “Oh God, yes. Fuck. I want to be a slutty whore who gets her cunt pounded every day.”

Lizzy-whore noticed that her sister’s nipples were so erect.

Hers were too.

“I’ll be a full time-whore,” Sami-slut moaned. “I’ll be so much better than her.”

“I’ll work harder!” Lizzy-whore cried. “I’ll be better!”

“That right, Lizzy-whore? You happy to be a little fuckpuppet for anyone who pays? We’ll let you finish high school. Good money for a genuine student and too many questions if you drop out. But forget your marks. You’ll be thinking with your cunt from now on.”

It was so good, her body singing with the idea. Just letting anyone use her. Fuck her. And she’d only cum if they let her. That was so good. Most of her clients probably wouldn’t think to let her. That was good, too. She’d be being used. She wanted to cum now, her body on edge. Maybe she’d always be on edge now. But she couldn’t cum. A slut waited to be told. Lizzy-whore was a good slut.

A good whore.

“Which of you will be the better whore?”

“Me!” the two sisters glared at each other.

The man laughed. “Really?” The man laughed. “What will you do?”

“I’ll let them fuck my mouth!” Lizzy-whore cried. She wasn’t letting her sister get the better of her.

“That’s nothing,” Sami-slut sneered. “Most of the girls in your school do that. I’ll let them fuck my arse,” she added proudly.

“I’ll do that,” Lizzy-whore shot back. She could just imagine how good it would be to have a man’s cock filling her arse. “And my tits!”

“I’ll let them double team me!” Sami-slut retorted.

Lizzy-whore could imagine that, a man taking her sister from behind while another fucked her mouth. She pictured herself in the same position. Her slutty cunt was leaking at the idea.

“I’ll do that, too!” she cried. “And one in my arse as well! I’ll be a tripled-teamed teen whore!” Oh God, if they let her cum while she was doing that she’d pass out from the bliss.

“Girls!” their mother cried. “It’s not a competition. I’m sure you’ll both be amazing whores.”

Her mother didn’t understand. She had to be a better whore than her sister.

“Competition is a great thing,” the man smiled. “And not just as whores. Maybe we’ll get you to do a bit of stripping on the side. A sister double-act will be a good draw.” Lizzy whore-liked that idea. She could show them that she could be a better stripper than her sister as well as a better whore.

“So girls, you ready to come now? Start your new lives as whores?”

Lizzy-whore shot to her feet. She couldn’t wait to get a cock inside her. She’d be a better whore than her sister.

“We’ll have them back tonight,” the man told their mother. “Late tonight, that is. Remember, your job now is to keep them fit and healthy and ready to whore. Got that?”

Their mother just nodded.

“Good girl,” the man beamed “You keep using that vibrator I gave you. We’ll explain everything to your husband tonight. I’m sure he’ll be as supportive as you. And hey, if we ever need an older whore, you up for it?”

“Yes,” their mother smiled vacantly. “Of course I would be.”

Lizzy-whore wasn’t sure about that. Competing with her sister was bad enough. She had to be a better whore than Sami-slut. Maybe she’d have to come up with more things she could do. She knew a little about bondage. She could do that. Or maybe get smacked. Or whipped.

Whatever anyone wanted to do to her. It wouldn’t matter. She wanted a cock in her. Now. One that had paid to use her slutty teen-body. So dripping wet in need, but only cumming when she was told. She wanted to be used. Needed it. Just a little fuckpuppet who would do anything her clients wanted. She’d show her sister.

She was going to be the best whore she could be.

(The end)