The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Cynthia?”

“Mmm?”

“When was the last time you orgasmed?”

“Just now.”

“Right. Yes. Before that?”

“A few days ago.”

I sat back, perplexed. Apparently my sister had followed my instructions. When I hadn’t seen any differences, a part of me had wondered if she’d just…failed. Like, if you’re masturbating for two hours each day, you’re probably going to cum, even if you agree not to while hypnotized.

Nope. Cynthia had done exactly as she’d been told.

I was once more impressed by my sister’s level of self-control.

But…what had caused that?

There was an easy way to find out.

“Why did you just cum?”

“You told me to.”

I blinked twice. I certainly had not.

“When?”

“Last time.”

“…what?”

“The last time you hypnotized me, you told me not to cum until you put me under next.”

It took me a moment to put all the pieces together. When I did, I sat back, relief rushing through my body.

Don’t get me wrong—watching my sister cum had been, hands-down, one of the hottest experiences of my life. Spanking Mom to orgasm after whipping her to tears probably out-ranked it, but…jesus. Her face. The groaning sounds. The blank look on her face.

Cynthia, for whatever reason, refuses to move when she’s hypnotized. I could tell her to do cartwheels; no matter how much she wanted to obey, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t move a muscle when she was under.

But apparently that wasn’t entirely true.

I don’t know exactly how it works, but I’m pretty sure at least a few muscles are involved in the female orgasm.

“If I told you to cum, right now, would you?”

No answer. I tried to wait out the silence, but it was clear that this was a question that my sister simply wasn’t going to answer.

Was it because she didn’t know, or because she didn’t want to tell me, or…?

Telling her to cum—commanding it, seeing what happened. You’d better believe that was tempting.

But things had crossed some kind of threshold, and this wasn’t a video game. There were no save points; if I fucked this up, that was the end. Game over.

If Cynthia woke up and worked out what I’d been up to, I was finished.

Not just with my sister, either—probably with Mom, too. Hell, if the police got involved…my life as I knew it could be over.

So yeah, I was a little panicked when Cynthia sat down and immediately came, completely unprovoked. Completely unexpectedly.

I don’t like unexpected, especially when it pertains to my sister’s hypnosis.

“Tell me about the last few days,” I said, holding up one hand when Cynthia began prattling off the mundanities of her day-to-day life.

“No,” I clarified. “Sorry. Tell me about the last few days of masturbation. How’s that been going?”

Over the next few minutes, I sat transfixed as Cynthia told me what she’d been up to. Every day, she was masturbating. She was thinking of the sexiest, lustiest things that she could, and then—just as she was reaching orgasm—she’d swap over and start thinking about how she could please me.

I mentioned that I’d learned a few terms from BDSM sites. Well, I was surprised to learn a new term from my sister.

‘Edging’.

“It’s when you get right up to the edge of orgasm then back away,” she said. Honestly, I think I’d seen the term on the sites, but it had always referred to male subs, so I’d never bothered learning anything more about it. “It keeps you stimulated, keeps you horny, but it doesn’t let you cum. I’ve been using it to keep myself turned on without cumming.”

“How many times have you edged since our last session?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting up when Cynthia gave me an answer. “Wait. Really?”

“It’s hard to keep count exactly,” Cynthia said. “But yeah.”

I had to make sure I’d heard her correctly, so I asked her to repeat the answer.

“About fifty or sixty times. Maybe more.”

Wow. No wonder she’d exploded as soon as she went under—she must have been ready to burst for days.

“When you weren’t masturbating, how did you feel?”

“Sore,” she said, after a moment to think. “Throbby.”

“Sore?”

“Yeah. It’s like blue balls, but for women. My body wanted to cum, but I knew I wasn’t allowed to.”

Wasn’t allowed to. My dick literally couldn’t have been any harder.

“Throbby?”

“Yeah,” Cynthia said. “Tense. Like I was a kettle that had boiled over, but no one had turned me off.”

“Did it feel good?”

Cynthia spent a long while pondering the question before answering.

“Yes and no,” she eventually responded. “It’s not as good as an orgasm, but there’s something nice about being all built up like that. It’s like having a pimple that you know you’re going to pop. It’s not fun to have, but the anticipation is nice.”

I was about to ask another follow-up question when a thought hit me, and made my blood ran cold.

“When you sat down for this session, did you know you were going to cum?”

“No,” Cynthia said. “You told me not to consciously remember what happens during these sessions, so I don’t.”

“So why did you think you hadn’t let yourself cum in so long?”

“You told me it was because orgasms were like little rewards.”

“Yeah…” I asked, not following. “So?”

“So I figured it was a punishment.”

“And you weren’t suspicious that your brother was giving you punishments?”

“No. I figured it was a punishment I’d given myself.”

A grin slowly spread across my face.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t deserve to cum. I needed to be punished.”

“Why did you need to be punished?”

“Because I haven’t been able to think of a way to please my brother. Because I haven’t been losing weight.”

The grin faded from my face as a thought hit me.

“When we finish today,” I asked slowly, “are you going to be able to tell that you’ve cum?”

“Yes,” my sister replied. “Straight away.”

I slumped back in the chair.

Bad news.

I’d never really put too much thought into why Cynthia thought she was obeying my instructions. In retrospect, that was pretty dumb—one poorly-phrased command, and the whole thing could have blown up in my face.

Fortunately, my sister’s mind seemed to be able to twist her actions for me. I have no idea how she justified getting off three times a day, thinking about me as she did, but it had worked, so I didn’t really want to mess with it.

Similarly, she’d come up with a fairly sound reason to prevent herself from cumming. Sound to her, anyway—it tied directly into her low-self esteem, which was really my sister’s main driving force.

But this…

Something told me that going several days without cumming, then knowing that she came while she was hypnotized, while she was under my command…

That was going to be a problem.

“What will you think happened?”

For the second time in one day, my sister started twitching. Unlike the earlier convulsions, however, these clearly weren’t orgasmic.

These were something far worse.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Stop! Uh, uh…what foods are you relying on to prevent yourself going over your calorie limits?”

My sister’s twitching stopped, and she began reciting a list of filling, low-calorie food items. Oatmeal. Yoghurt. Legumes. All that jazz.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I’d read about this. You ask someone the wrong question, their mind can’t handle it. Contradictions collide, they start to freak out.

They wake up.

They wake up, and they know everything.

I’d managed to avoid it with both my test subjects so far, by being very very careful. I’d never asked Mom, like, “Do you think your son is turned on by causing you pain?”—it would lead her down a train of thought that I was working hard to avoid, and would probably make her twitch and wake up.

As Cynthia told me about how surprisingly calorie-light sweet potato was, I ran my hand through my hair.

Okay.

Okay.

I had a problem.

My sister had gone three days without cumming. She’d edged and edged and edged, and when she woke up, she’d know that she’d found relief.

Problem.

And worst of all, I couldn’t wake her up. If I woke her up, she’d know.

She’d know.

Hell, she might know everything. She might know that I’d been taking photos of her while she was under, that I had been encouraging her to masturbate while thinking about pleasing me.

But at the very, very least, she’d know that she’d cum while I had her under, and that was bad enough.

Fuck.

“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”

My first instinct was to ask my sister for help, but I’d just seem what happened if I went down that path. No, I needed to work this out on my own.

If she woke up thinking that she’d cum while she was hypnotized, that would be bad. Duh.

So I needed to convince her that she hadn’t cum.

She’d said she’d know because of how it felt, how ‘throbby’ she’d been before going under.

So I needed to make her feel throbby again.

“I want you to play with yourself,” I said abruptly. Sure, Cynthia didn’t normally move while under hypnosis, but maybe this would be an exception. Her orgasm had been, after all.

Nothing.

“I want you to get turned on,” I said, leaning forward and watching her closely. Her large blue eyes were staring blankly, her tits were heaving as she breathed in and out.

One of my favorite things about hypnotizing my sister was the unrestricted view of her body that I got. On that day, she was wearing dark blue stockings, black panties, and a matching bra. I couldn’t see her nipples (even an outline) through the thick pads of the bra, but I would have bet anything that they were hard.

Her long blonde hair framed her face beautifully. Her lips were soft, pink, and looked like they were built to wrap around a cock. My cock. Her stomach had that pleasant bulge that all curvy chicks have—it was far from fat, but it wasn’t like she had a six-pack. It was just soft and curvaceous, like the rest of her.

Checking out my sister was one of my favorite things in the world. I couldn’t lose it.

I couldn’t.

“Get turned on,” I repeated. “That’s an order.”

My eyes wandered down to the black panties she was wearing. It burned me up inside to know that just underneath that thin piece of cloth was my sister’s glorious bare pussy. We’d never discussed the specifics of whether or not she shaved, but I’d never seen hairs poking out the side—either she was naturally sparse down there, or she shaved.

I couldn’t wait to find out.

As I watched, however, it became clear that the command wasn’t working. And even if it did, even if I got her turned on by talking dirty, or getting her to talk dirty to me…it wouldn’t be the same. It couldn’t match days of edging herself, of playing with herself until she was on the cusp of orgasm and then forcing herself to stop.

Unless…

“When did you first start feeling throbby?”

“The first time I masturbated without cumming.”

“And was it very different to how you felt before I hypnotized you today?”

There was a pause as Cynthia considered my question.

“Not very different,” she finally answered. “Just more intense.”

I took a deep breath. My next question was a risky one, but much less risky than letting her wake up, knowing everything.

“If you woke up today and you knew you’d cum, you wouldn’t let me hypnotize you again, would you?”

My sister immediately began to twitch, but I continued before she could get too far along.

“Answer me with a yes or no. Now.”

“No,” she said, the twitches subsiding.

“If I stop hypnotizing you, you’ll have no chance of losing weight, will you?”

“No.”

“It’s vital that you don’t know that you’ve cum when you wake up, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Cynthia,” I said, my heart pounding as I stared into her deep blue eyes. “There’s only one way that we can continue your sessions. As your trainer, there’s something I have to do so that I can keep hypnotizing you.”

My sister didn’t move a muscle, but I could all but feel her wanting to lean forward, desperately anticipating my next words.

“I need to touch you.”