The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I took a few photos—at the sound of the camera’s app clicking, Cynthia let out a small gasp of arousal. She was so worked up, like the slightest thing would be enough push her over the edge.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Good,” she moaned. “Stretched.”

“Do you think you’ll notice it when you wake up?”

“Mm-hmm,” she replied. “Once I’m less distracted.”

I froze, tissue in-hand. I’d been about to clean her up.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m so turned on,” she said in a moan. “That’s the first thing I’ll notice.”

“And that’ll distract you from how stretched-out you feel?”

“Yeah. For a bit.”

“How long?”

“Not long,” she said. It was funny—despite the fact that she couldn’t move, I could tell that she wanted to stretch out like a cat.

Maybe that’s just the energy of a very well-fucked woman.

“In just a few moments, probably,” she continued. “I’ve already calmed down a lot since…we finished.”

The last word was delivered in a breathy sigh. To her subconscious mind, it was her trainer Danny who’d fucked her, who’d cum on her stomach…but he’d used her brother’s cock to do so.

“But…won’t you be suspicious that you’ve woken up so horny?”

“No,” my sister said immediately. “I often wake up really turned on from our sessions. Sometimes I edge as soon as you leave.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“So what you’re saying,” I replied thoughtfully, “is that if I were to wake you up immediately after fucking you, you wouldn’t be suspicious of the way you feel for at least a minute or two.”

“Yeah,” my sister replied. “Maybe longer.”

“And you wouldn’t question why you woke up so horny?”

“No.” Cynthia’s voice was light, cheerful. Satisfied.

Well-fucked.

“I get horny from being in the same room with you all the time. This has been a long session, so it would make total sense for me to be dripping wet.”

A huge grin slowly spread across my face.

“Cynthia,” I said firmly as I lowered my pants. “I need to fuck you again.”

“Yes, sir,” she moaned. “Please. Anytime. Fuck me whenever you want.”

At breakfast the next morning, I couldn’t stop staring at my sister.

I must have had the biggest, dumbest grin on my face.

I’d been inside her. I’d done it. I’d fucked my sister. I’d slid my cock inside her, pounded Cynthia until I was ready to blow, then pulled out and cum on her waiting stomach.

Not once. Not twice. Three times, all in less than an hour.

And as if that wasn’t good enough…I could do it all again.

Any time I wanted.

“What?” Cynthia said, and I blinked twice. Shit. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts, I hadn’t noticed my sister staring back.

“Have you lost weight?” I asked casually. “You look…I dunno, different. I like it.”

My sister took a sharp breath, and her eyes fluttered.

Even at the breakfast table, even with our Mom standing a few feet away, frying up bacon…Cynthia had almost cum.

Just from a compliment. At the knowledge her brother thought she was attractive.

The dumb grin returned to my face, and I tried to smother it.

I could probably make her cum, if I wanted to. I could keep on complimenting her…her self-worth, her arousal, my opinion of her—the months of hypnosis had so thoroughly mixed the thoughts together, I could probably give my sister a spontaneous orgasm in the middle of the kitchen, just from telling her I thought she looked good.

Just a few words from me, and Cynthia would be cumming, having a knee-shaking orgasm without anyone touching her. Without even needing to touch herself.

But I didn’t.

Firstly, because while my mother was distracted by her latest punishment, she was still right there. If her daughter started cumming in the middle of breakfast, I was pretty sure she’d notice.

And secondly, because it was just so delicious watching my sister suffer.

She wanted to cum so bad, but she couldn’t. As far as Cynthia was concerned, it’d been months since her last climax.

And she wouldn’t have another, not until the next time I put her under. I’d get to watch my sister find unconscious release…then fuck the arousal back into her.

It was all I could do not to groan aloud at the thought.

I couldn’t wait.

“Bacon’s ready,” Mom gasped, drawing my gaze away from my sister’s lip-bite.

“Are you going to serve it for us?” I asked in a slow drawl, enjoying the power I had over her.

Mom’s face turned red. “Daniel…”

“Mmm?”

“You know I…”

“Mom,” I said with a heavy sigh. “It’ll ruin the punishment if we have to help you. You cheat on your diet, you get punished—you know this!”

My mother squirmed (unknowingly mirroring Cynthia’s expression from just a few moments ago) and turned back to the pan, being very careful not to get any grease on her bare tits.

She really had cheated on her diet the previous night, for the first time in a while. After I’d finished with Cynthia, she’d come to me to confess.

Normally Mom’s punishment for cheating on her diet would be missing a spanking…but I’d just fucked my sister three times. I was feeling magnaminous.

So instead, I used the opportunity to introduce a new punishment, one that I’d been researching for a while:

Breast bondage. Ropes.

Tying rope around each of her breasts, tight enough that it hurt.

Her eyes widened when I told her, but she didn’t object. She had long since accepted that I was in charge of her punishments, that my job was to devise them…and hers was to accept them.

And so when I’d told her exactly what we were going to do, Mom had just nodded.

She was probably just happy it didn’t have anything to do with the anal toy sitting beside her bed.

I’d spanked Mom to orgasm, whispering in her ear about how embarrassing it would be, how painful. Just like when I’d clamped her nipples, it would require exposing her breasts, showing them off to me, and to Cynthia. I’d warned her that it was going to hurt, maybe more than any punishment that she’d endured so far.

And just as she was about to cum, I casually mentioned that I’d have to be the one who tied them. That her own son would have to put his hands on her tits for as long as it took.

That was the image in my mother’s head as she came. Her only son manhandling her tits, tying the rope, making sure that everything was safe and secure.

Spanking my mother as I informed her about the latest punishment she’d earned…even though I’d gotten off three times just an hour earlier, it was enough to make my dick begin to harden again.

I’d stopped hiding it from Mom. She knew I was turned on when I spanked her. But if she started really putting thought into the fact that her son had a boner while he spanked her to orgasm each night…well, then she’d probably have to stop letting me.

And neither of us wanted that.

After Mom came, I gave her a few minutes to calm down, then pulled out the ropes. I’d ordered them online a few weeks earlier, and been practicing with them ever since.

That night was just a…I guess a rehearsal, of sorts. No matter how much you practice tying up pillows with bondage ropes, you don’t know for sure if it’s going to work until you have access to your mother’s tits.

God, Mom’s tits. It was the first time I’d touched them. As I moved the rope around each tit, I firmly grabbed it, lifting it to make sure I could get the rope in place.

My ex-girlfriend, Erin Murphy, had let me touch her boobs once or twice. Always over the shirt, and after a few minutes of my clumsy pawing, she’d swatted my hands away.

I think she’d liked it, though. Being around my perpetually-aroused sister, and getting my mother off each night had taught me more than a little about female arousal, and looking back, I could recognize some of the signs that Erin had been turned on by what I’d done.

Not as much as Cynthia, of course. I doubt I’d ever turn anyone on as much as my sister. Just the truth of that statement was so incredibly hot.

If Mom was turned on by the feeling of me grabbing her huge tits, she did a good job of hiding it. I think she barely even noticed, to be honest; her entire attention seemed to be on the black rope I was carefully wrapping around her breasts.

Erin had just been a teenage girl. Not exceptional, like my sister…just a regular girl, with regular tits.

But Mom’s? God, Mom’s were out of this world. They were so big, so heavy—lifting them and holding them so I could navigate the rope took real effort.

I loved every minute of it.

“How does that feel?” I asked, my nervousness evident in my voice. I hadn’t gone as tight as I’d seen in some of the videos, but I knew for it to work, they had to be at least a little tight. Each of my mother’s massive jugs were now wrapped in rope, making them look…even bigger, somehow. Like two huge orbs, tapered at the base.

“Good,” my mother murmured. “Tight.”

A shudder of arousal went through my body as I imagined my mother completely restrained—her arms tied behind her back, her feet bound together, her tits bouncing as I fucked her from behind, as I came inside her…

God I wanted her. I wanted to fuck my mother, just like I’d fucked my sister earlier that night. I wanted to fill her with my seed, feel her cum—not just from the outside, as I had so many times, but feel her cunt contracting around my cock as we climaxed simultaneously, again and again and again…

I swallowed, and tried to make my nod as professional as possible.

“Excellent,” I said, gently untying her. Her nipples looked like they were rock-hard…from the pain? From arousal? Or was that just a side-effect of tying up her boobs? They’d felt so good under my palms, so spongey.

I couldn’t wait to get them in my mouth.

“Come find me me before breakfast tomorrow and I’ll tie them up. That’ll be your punishment; you’ll have to have them bound until we’re all done eating.”

I’m not gonna lie—I may have really taken my time with Mom’s bacon. Savored the meal. I mean, after all, she’d worked so hard on it…

But once everyone’s plates were empty, I kept my promise and removed the ropes.

I’d tied them slightly tighter that morning than I had the night before, and of course they were on for longer—almost forty minutes, in total. A lot for a first time, from what I’d read…but a fraction of the times I knew we’d eventually hit.

Mom’s eyes widened as the blood rushed back into her tits. As I watched my mother try to subdue her groans of pain, I wanted to know what it would be like to constrain them even more firmly, for a shorter amount of time.

If you didn’t keep them on for as long, apparently you could go much, much tighter…

I’m sure it wouldn’t be long before she screwed up again and I got to find out. Maybe a new workout routine was in order, just to help…speed things along a bit.

When her tits were released and I’d reluctantly let go of them, Mom put her pajama top back on, buttoning it up and hiding her enormous breasts from view.

I couldn’t wait until they were on display every breakfast. Every meal.

Every moment they possibly could be.

“Thanks for this, Mom,” Cynthia said, her voice slightly strained. I could tell that the sight of me handling our mother’s breasts, clearly reveling in her pain…it had only served to deepen my sister’s arousal.

Based on what she’d said the night before, I expected her to find an excuse to leave the room. It seemed that edging when she got turned on was the only way she could keep a handle on it.

Sure enough, Cynthia stood and made her way out of the kitchen as quickly as possible. Without a word, to my amusement: she didn’t even bother coming up with a reason.

I watched her walk out of the room with a smile. Not just because I got to see my lingerie-clad sister walk away, but because I knew exactly why she was walking funny…

The third time I’d fucked my sister the previous night, it had lasted almost as long as the first two put together.

Partially because of…just biology, I guess. You cum twice, the third time is going to take a little longer.

Another factor was my previous load. Since I was about to get off again in the exact same spot, I hadn’t bothered to clean it up. As I pounded into my sister’s sopping wetness, I could feel my own warm cum against my stomach.

It wasn’t bad, exactly. There was something almost…kind of hot about it, honestly, if a little distracting.

But the main reason was just that I couldn’t switch my mind off as I rammed my dick into my sister. The first two times I’d been entirely focused on the sensations, the new experience.

The third time?

Look, I don’t want to sound like I’m ungrateful. Believe me, fucking my sister was…god, it was everything I’d ever wanted. The feeling of her twitching pussy around my cock, the way her bra-covered tits bounced with every thrust.

The knowledge that I was finally doing it, that I was finally balls-deep inside my sister Cynthia, the girl I’d incestuously lusted after ever since I’d hit puberty.

But as great as it was (and believe me, it was fucking great—and great fucking, too) there was something missing.

I don’t know exactly why my sister was unable to move when she was hypnotized, even though my mother could. I didn’t know why Cynthia was able to talk, able to cum—like, surely both of those involve moving—but nothing else.

And so while I could feel the spasms of her vaginal walls as they tried to grip my cock as tightly as they could, I wanted more.

The small groans of lust emerging from her mouth were great, but her eyes were glazed over, her face was blank. I wanted her to stare at me wantingly, to worship me with her entire face. I wanted her hands to run across my body, her legs to wrap around me and pull me in.

I wanted her to push back against my every thrust, not just lie there.

Again, I’m not trying to complain. My sister was essentially a human sex-doll with a perfect body. She was my obedient slave in mind, if not yet in body.

But as I drove into her for that third, passionate fucking, as I pounded into my sister’s wetness again and again, I couldn’t help but think about how much hotter it would be when she was fully responsive.

When she was completely mine: mind, body, and soul.

“You’re my fuckdoll,” I muttered under my breath, as I slid my throbbing cock inside my sister. I knew I could fuck my bed-bound sister as hard as I wanted.

Now that I had a plan.

“Yesss, just lie there,” I said, trying to pretend I was ordering her to be as still as she could, like I was in full control of the situtation. “You’re my perfect…little…oh!”

I barely managed to pull my cock out before I started cumming.

The thought of Cynthia as nothing but a fleshlight, a warm body for me to fuck, just like she’d been fantasizing about.

Knowing that I’d made her this way, that the only thing that could turn her on as much as two months of edging was my cock inside her…it brought my orgasm on faster than I’d expected, and my new load joined the sticky substance our tryst had smeared all over her stomach.

As quickly as I could, I pulled my pants up, put my shirt back on, and began to clean up my sister’s mostly-naked body.

“As soon as you wake up,” I instructed, as I used tissue after tissue to mop up my own cum, “I’m going to leave. When I do, you’re going to realize you’re so worked up, you need to edge. Straight away. But you’re going to do it differently. You’re going to take…”

I glanced around her room. She had a thin pink can of deodorant beside her bed.

Perfect.

“…your deodorant, and you’re going to fuck yourself with it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

As I spoke, I quickly cleaned off the deodorant.

“Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I’m going to realize the session has made me so horny, I need to play with myself. To edge. I’m going to use the can of deodorant, and I’m going to…to…”

My eyes widened. We didn’t have much time; my plan relied on her being so distracted by her own arousal, Cynthia wouldn’t even notice her soreness until she’d done something that could plausibly have caused it.

But after a few moments of silence, she swallowed loudly and continued, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“…I’m going to put it inside me. I’m going to fuck myself with the deodorant can, and pretend it’s my brother.”

“What will you think the smell filling the room is?”

“Cum,” my sister replied confidently. “But I’ll think I’m just imagining it. I’ll think it’s a projection because of how turned on I am.”

“And that won’t make you suspicious?”

“No.”

“After you edge, you’ll think that’s what caused the feeling of being stretched. Say it.”

“I’ll think I feel stretched because of the can of deodorant.”

“Again.”

“I’ll think putting the can inside me and fucking it is what has made me feel so stretched.”

“Will you be suspicious of anything else?”

“No,” Cynthia replied firmly.

“Will you be suspicious?”

“No.”

I pocketed the cum-soaked tissues and glanced around the room. I couldn’t see anything that would indicate I’d just taken my sister’s virginity.

“Good girl,” I said, enjoying her involuntary shiver of pleasure at my words. “Okay, sis. Time to wake up.”