The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Later that night Sarah was still couldn’t believe what had happened. Helen had sat through dinner, wearing nothing but her bikini. Her posing had been more subdued, but Sarah was certain that her sister was still doing it. Leaning forward, elbows on the table, Sarah drowning in Helen’s cleavage. Or turning side on in her chair, head tilted back, hands running through her glorious hair.

Their mother hadn’t said a thing.

Well, not until after Helen had risen from the table and headed upstairs.

“She does look nice in a bikini,” their mother observed. “I’m sure you would too.”

Sarah hadn’t known what to say. At least her mother hadn’t said anything about how short her skirt was.

“Although,” Rachel continued, frowning in the direction her eldest daughter had disappeared. “Does it have to be quite, so, well, small? I mean, really?”

That was all her mother had to say?

Sarah just sat there, confused.

She remained sitting there until her mother asked her to help clean up.

It was sometime later that Helen re-emerged. She wasn’t wearing her bikini anymore. Although Sarah wasn’t complaining.

Not with the short, tight, dress, her sister was wearing, electric blue and hugging her body.

“Are you going out in that?” their mother protested.

“Of course I am,” Helen sniffed.

Sarah closed her eyes and shook her head before opening her eyes again. Their mother was objecting to the dress, but she hadn’t cared about the bikini.

“Emily and I are going clubbing,” her sister added.

“I still don’t think,” their mother grumbled. Instead of finishing the sentence Rachel just shook her head, her lips pursed.

So many things rushed through Sarah’s mind that she couldn’t say a word. She loved the way Helen looked in the dress. She wished she was going with her sister. The two of them, going out together. Like on a date. It would never happen, but the thought took Sarah’s breath away. But Helen wasn’t going anywhere with Sarah. She was going to some club. Where there’d be guys. That thought didn’t make Sarah happy at all.

And Helen was going with Emily. Guilt clawed at the eighteen year-old. Emily shouldn’t mention a thing about what had happened. Shouldn’t want to. But if Helen ever found out that Sarah had hypnotised her friend there would be hell to pay. And if that happened, Helen might work out that Sarah was hypnotising her and then…

Sarah didn’t want to think about that. Couldn’t think about it. Not with the way Helen looked in that dress.

“It’ll be fun,” Helen said. “And don’t I look good in this?” Helen posed against the door frame, hands stretched over her head, one high heeled foot drawn up and resting on the frame.

Rachel just shook her head again. “There are some things a mother just shouldn’t have to think about.”

“What do you think, sis?” Helen asked, turning to Rachel and cocking her hip. “Do you think I look hot?”

Helen pushed away from the door, then slowly raised her arms before bending them at the elbows, hands reaching down between her shoulders. She turned her head, chin tilting down to one side.

Sarah couldn’t look away. Her sister was gorgeous, blonde hair delicately curling over her shoulders, her lips so kissable with their ruby red lipstick and the eyeshadow making those blue orbs pop.

Helen reached a hand down, her fingers brushing at the hem of her short dress, tugging it just a fraction higher. “So?” she half-smiled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sarah managed, her hands fumbling in front of her. She was surprised she could speak at all. She wanted those fingers to keep tugging that hem higher. Reveal more of Helen’s thigh. Show what was under that dress. Arousal and desire pounded through her. Desperately she stomped on the thoughts, before her feelings became a runaway train. “You look pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Helen scoffed. “I’ll kill ’em. You see anything I could do better?”

The thing Helen could do better was come over to Sarah and plant those ruby red lips on hers. Press their bodies together. Let Sarah’s hands roam over her elder sister’s body.

Sarah wasn’t about to say any of that. “You could have higher heels,” she blurted. Then wanted to die. Helen was wearing three-inch heels. But something even taller would look so good, stretch Helen’s calves deliciously.

Helen twisted, glancing down at her legs. It had the benefit of thrusting her hip in Sarah’s direction. “Actually,” the elder sister allowed. “You know what? You’re right. Thanks, sis.”

Sarah almost died as Helen bent forward, cleavage so obvious in the low cut dress, and blew a kiss in her direction. Then Helen turned and headed back upstairs.

The strappy blue stilettos she returned with had Sarah melting on the spot.

Helen paused, looking down at herself again. Her hand drifted to the hem of her dress. Sarah was sure that Helen was tugging it just a fraction higher. There was a moment that she was sure Helen was looking at her.

Arousal crashed through Sarah.

The moment passed.

“See ya!” Helen cried as she swept out the door.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, Sarah screamed at herself. The image of her sister was burned into her mind. She knew where Helen was going. What her sister might be doing. Dancing. Maybe with boys. Maybe letting them do more than that. Touch her. Kiss her.

All the things Sarah wanted to do to her sister.

All the things she didn’t want any boy doing to Helen.

She could have done something. Dropped her sister. Told Helen to just enjoy herself with Emily and stay away from boys. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t done a thing. Now she was going to spend the whole evening tormented by the thoughts of what her sister might be doing.

Sarah dragged herself to her bedroom. She tried making an entry on her blog, toyed with her phone, thinking about recording something. No ideas came, Sarah dropping the phone in frustration. Even her diary didn’t hold much attraction. She did yank her skirt off, fingers trailing over her thighs, reaching for her centre, images of Helen dancing in her mind.

Helen was so beautiful.

But the thought of what Helen might be doing made Sarah’s stomach turn.

Sarah was still awake, tossing and turning, when she heard the tap of her sister’s heels on the stairs. For a moment she lay there, staring into the darkness.

Then she leapt out of bed and headed out her door.

“Oh.” Surprise was clear in Helen’s voice. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake. Bit late for mice to be about, isn’t it?” She gave her younger sister a condescending smile.

Sarah’s lips formed a tight line. Helen’s lipstick was smudged, her hair mussed. Had she been kissing a boy?

“Helen, go down the stairs.”

Sarah couldn’t help smiling as the expression dropped from her sister’s face. As Helen started counting down.

The sense of satisfaction fell away, replaced by sharp edged fear, as she realised what she’d done. She’d hypnotised her sister when their mother was home. Their mother was only a few feet away. Hopefully safely asleep. But if she appeared right now Sarah didn’t know what she’d say.

Nervously the blonde teen watched and listened as Helen finished her countdown. With every number Sarah worried that the sound would wake their mother up. That their mother would appear and demand to know what was going on.

As soon as the word ‘one’ passed Helen’s lips Sarah grabbed her sister’s hand and yanked her through the nearest door.

Which led to Sarah’s bedroom.

Sarah closed the door, then leant back against it, a sigh of relief passing her lips.

After a few moments to let the jangling of her nerves pass, she regarded her sister.

Helen looked so good, just standing there. That dress was so tight, the low cut neck revealing so much of her breasts. Sarah could tell Helen to take off that shimmering blue dress, reveal so much more.

She could tell Helen to do so many things.

Helen was in her bedroom.

But this was Helen. Something deep inside, maybe a fear of the sister who’d always lorded it over her, stopped the younger sibling. She felt like she’d pushed her luck far enough with the bikini.

But telling Helen not to do something. She could do that.

“You love this feeling. So warm. So safe. No thoughts. Only my voice. Every time you drop into trance it feels so much better. Every time you’re in trance there are less thoughts in your head. Only my voice. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Helen replied, her voice flat and distant. “Only your voice.”

Sarah could barely contain herself. Adrenaline flowed through her, the jangling of nerves in her limbs making her twitch. “That’s right. You believe my voice. You do what it says. While you’re home for the holidays you don’t want anything to do with boys. They’re not worth your time.”

There was a small frown on Helen’s perfect face. “Not. Not worth my time?”

“That’s right,” Sarah cut in before Helen could say anything else. “Remember, no thoughts, Just my voice. Trust my voice. Boys aren’t worth your time. You’ve got too much else to do while you’re here. Are you going to have anything to do with boys while you’re home?”

“No,” Helen replied unhesitatingly. “They’re not worth my time. I’ve got too much else to do.”

Sarah took her sister through the idea a few times. Reinforcing it. Making it real. It felt so good. Not only would Helen have nothing to do with boys, not speak to them, not let them touch her, but just being able to do that to her sister felt so good. There were tingles in her fingers, something hot and forbidden curling in her centre. Sarah was drowning in the sensations. Helen was just so close. She could reach out.

She didn’t know what Helen would do if she touched her.

But there were other things she could do, her earlier hesitations dissolving just a little.

“You’re home now Helen.” It was nothing but the truth. “Time to get ready for bed. So you need to take your dress off. Take off your dress.”

Her sister didn’t hesitate, hands reaching behind her for the zipper of her dress. Sarah wasn’t breathing as Helen pulled that zipper down.

Sarah couldn’t breathe as Helen shimmied out of her dress.

Helen was in front of her in her underwear.

Sarah was sure her centre was sopping wet.

Helen’s underwear was in blue, but much paler than her dress. Skimpy and lacy and mouth-wateringly tempting. Sarah reached out for one of her sister’s bra-clad breasts before pulling her hand back. God, her sister looked so good like that, high heels and lingerie and nothing else. And even if the underwear did maybe cover more of her body than the bikini had, maybe this was better.

Because she wasn’t supposed to see her sister like this.

Sarah looked, just looked. She didn’t know for how long. Her sister was gorgeous. But even so, Sarah caught herself eventually falling asleep.

It didn’t mean that this had to be the last time.

“I want to see you tomorrow like this. Underwear and heels and nothing else. Pick up your dress. Now go to your room.” She had to send Helen away before she did something that night snap her sister out of her trance. “You’ll wake up there. You won’t remember seeing me. You won’t remember being hypnotised. You’ll think you took your dress off in your room. Now go.”

Robotically, Helen swung towards the door, Sarah mesmerised by what the heels did to her sister’s legs.

It was just like something in her diary

Maybe I can get her to do things. When she’s, you know, under. It’s not like Helen’s going to be gay. She’s been too into her boyfriends. But I could get her to do things. Little things. I can put her under and say “Helen, you’ll do what I say.”

God, that’d be amazing.

Sarah read that passage a few times before she turned the light back out.

“Do you have any plans for today, dear?” their mother asked Sarah at breakfast the next morning.

“Um, maybe,” Sarah shrugged. She wasn’t about to tell her mother that she was planning on spending the day admiring how her sister looked in her underwear.

“Well, you don’t want to waste your holidays just sitting in your room,” her mother tsked. “Honestly, I don’t know what you find to do in there all the time.”

Sarah wasn’t about to tell her mother just how much of her time she spent reading her diary.

And getting herself off to thoughts of her sister.

She was about to make some excuse when Helen entered the kitchen.

In nothing but heels and a matching black set of bra and panties.

Shit, shit, shit. Much as Helen looked amazing, Sarah was aghast. Her sister was doing what she’d been told to do. But Sarah realised she’d made a mistake. A terrible mistake. All she’d said was ‘tomorrow’. Nothing about waiting until their mother was gone.

Now her mother was going to say something and Helen would realise she’d done something weird and everything was going to come crashing down.

“Hi, dear,” their mother smiled. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sure,” Helen shrugged, slipping into her seat, her eyes glued to her phone as her thumbs danced across its screen.

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what to say.

Their mother hadn’t reacted at all.

Maybe she just thought Helen was being lazy. Or something. Their mother didn’t blink as she placed the coffee cup next to Helen, Sarah’s sister sparing one hand from her phone to pick up the cup.

Her mother was speaking, asking Helen what her plans were. It was almost surreal.

But Sarah wasn’t about to question her good fortune. If her mother didn’t object to Helen slobbing around the house in her underwear, she was quite happy to use that.

She did wait until their mother left for work.

“Helen, go down the stairs,” Sarah declared as soon as she heard her mother’s car pulling out of the drive. She’d made herself wait that long. She didn’t want to risk her mother coming back in because she’d forgotten something.

Helen dropped smoothly through the numbers.

It was almost like it was a habit now.

Sarah gazed at her sister, imagining Helen’s mind so empty.

Just waiting for what she had to say.

“It feels good just wearing your underwear. Or your bikinis. When it’s just you and me and Mum in the house that’s all you want to wear. Underwear or bikinis. You love it. And not just any underwear. Your good stuff.”

She wanted to see her sister in tiny scraps of swimwear. In skimpy panties and lacy bras. All the time. Knowing that was all that was covering her sister’s naked skin. Maybe her sister had other things as well, bustiers and garter belts and who knew what.

Whatever it was, Sarah would get to see it.

Sarah’s nipples tightened at the thought, her centre dampening. It was going to be so good. She’d see her sister so exposed every day. Like Helen was now. Sitting across the table from her. Her breasts held in that lacy bra. Cupped. Waiting. Begging to be touched.

Sarah’s thighs rubbed together, an unconscious movement. She was so turned on.

She couldn’t stop herself.

“You like your good underwear, don’t you Helen?”

“Yes,” her sister agreed, a tiny nod of Helen’s head accompanying the flat sound of her voice.

“You wear it to look good. To feel good.” Sarah didn’t think she was telling Helen anything that wasn’t already true. “You wear it when you want to look sexy, right?”

“Want to look sexy.”

Yes, you do.

“You look sexy wearing that. You look sexy wearing your bikinis. You like how sexy they make you look. They make you look sexy because you’re exposed. Being exposed is sexy. You like being sexy and exposed, right?”

“Sexy and exposed.” Her sister’s voice was so flat.

“You wear them when you want to feel sexy. Being sexy means you want to be turned on. You wear them when you want to be turned on. When you’re wearing your sexy underwear or your bikinis you want to be turned on, right?”

Helen didn’t hesitate at all. “Want to be turned on in my sexy underwear or my bikinis.”

“Whenever you’re wearing just that around the house it’ll turn you on. When you’re wearing sexy underwear or a bikini around the house you’ll be turned on. What does wearing sexy underwear or a bikini around the house do to you?”

“Turn me on,” Helen replied, her voice distant but Sarah was sure that there was a faint flush in her sister’s cheeks.

Helen wasn’t the only one. Sarah was sure her cheeks were flashing red. She wanted to hear her sister say those words again.

“Wearing just your sexy underwear and heels around the house turns you on.” Sarah could barely contain herself. “Tell me what it does.”

“It turns me on,” Helen declared, her voice so flat.

“Wearing a bikini around the house turns you on. Tell me what it does.”

“It turns me on,” Helen repeated.

“Tell me again!” the younger sister ordered.

“It turns me on,” Helen declared in that beautiful, flat, voice. So empty but the words sent shivers through Sarah.

Sarah was sure she could see the points of her sister’s nipples thrusting into Helen’s bra. Her own breasts were aching with need, her body crying out for attention.

“You believe my voice. What my voice tells you is true. It turns you on.” Sarah was squirming in her seat, her thighs rubbing together. “Tell me what wearing your sexy underwear around the house does! What wearing a bikini does!”

“It turns me on,” Helen repeated, that same dull monotone, but her face was clearly flushed now, her breathing deeper. That was doing wonderful things to her chest.

“Again!” Sarah demanded.

“It turns me on.”

“Again,” the younger sister cried. “You believe it!”

“It turns me on.”

Helen’s arousal was obvious now, her lips parted. It wasn’t enough for Sarah

“Again!”

“Again!”

“Again!”

Sarah didn’t know how many times she repeated her command. Helen answered every time. Sarah’s eyes were glued to her sister.

Before she realised it, one of Sarah’s hands was up under her skirt. Another of the skirts Helen had made her buy, short and pleated in red and black plaid. She’d hardly realised she’d put it on that morning. If anything, it made it better. It was a skirt Helen liked. A skirt that actually made Sarah’s legs look good. A skirt that made it much easier to get at her panties. Which were soaked. Her fingers were…

Sarah froze. She was fingering herself in front of her sister.

Her beautiful, turned on sister.

Who was just sitting there.

Aroused.

“Tell me again what you feel,” Sarah ordered quietly, her fingers gently stroking her lower lips.

“I’m so turned on,” Helen declared.

As Helen spoke those words Sarah’s fingers slipped inside. It was only a few moments later that her orgasm crashed over her, the world dissolving.

She’d cum in front of her gorgeous sister

Oh shit. She’d cum in front of her sister.

Need satisfied, at least a little for now, Sarah stared guiltily in Helen’s direction. Her older sister was just sitting there.

“Stand up.”

Helen did as she was told, rising sinuously from the chair.

“Oh, fuck,” Sarah moaned.

There was a damp spot, on Helen’s panties, the black material glistening.

Helen was turned on. Sarah had just cum in front of her turned on sister.

Nervously she licked her dry lips. She’d done as much as she dared.

“When I leave the room you’ll wake up.” She couldn’t take her eyes off that damp spot on her sister’s panties. “You won’t remember being hypnotised. Or what happened. But you’ll remember what I told you to do.”

Sarah jumped out of her chair, raced up to her room and changed.

Then she hesitated. Helen would be downstairs. Awake now. But still in nothing but her underwear and heels.

She could see Helen like that again.

But first she grabbed her phone, held it out from her and hit record.

“I did it, I did it, I did it,” she cried. She wasn’t going to say exactly what she’d done. Cum in front of her sister, her body jerking, the glorious sensation melting her mind. She’d never thought she’d be able to do that. It wasn’t even something that was in her diary. But she’d done it. So she had to tell someone.

Even if it was just her when she looked at the recording later.

Then she dropped the phone and ran back downstairs.

Helen was sitting back at the kitchen table, scrolling through messages on her phone.

“What are you staring at?” the elder sister demanded snidely as Sarah stood in the doorway.

“Uh, nothing?” Sarah wasn’t about to say that she was looking at the most gorgeous woman in the world, sitting there in her underwear.

Helen rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Are you going to follow me all day?” Helen asked sometime later.

“I’m allowed to be in the house,” Sarah protested, ignoring the fact that she had been following her sister from room to room. She didn’t want to miss a moment of Helen looking like this.

In her underwear and heels. Cheeks flushed. Nipples visibly poking into her bra.

Sarah had spent every minute watching.

Except when she’d had to run to her room, the feelings too much, her fingers giving her the relief she needed.

That had been more than once. But she was back now, glued to the evidence of her sister’s arousal, Helen shifting uncomfortably in her seat. One of Helen’s hands drifted in the direction of her breast, then the elder sister, pulled it away, frowning.

Helen rose determinedly from her seat, headed up the stairs. After a moment Sarah crept after her.

At the top of the stairs Sarah peered around the corner. Helen glanced at the door of the bathroom bedroom but then headed to her bedroom. She paused outside the door, a hand drifting to her thigh, fingers brushing the soft skin. Helen took a deep breath, shook herself, that hand now cupping her breast. Sarah couldn’t breathe, the sight of Helen caressing her own breast making her dizzy, the blood rushing out of her head to other parts of her body.

Sarah jerked back around the corner as Helen glanced back down the hall. Sarah had only a moment but she was sure she’d seen her sister’s teeth worrying at her lip.

Sarah waited anxiously. After a few moments she heard a soft moan, the sound, sending pulses of pleasure through her.

She risked another glance around the corner, ready to pull back if Helen was still looking in her direction.

Helen wasn’t. Sarah’s sister was side-on, her eyes half-closed, head tilted back as her hand stroked her breast through her bra.

Sarah thought she was going to melt.

After a few more strokes Helen’s hand dropped away. Then she headed into her room, shutting the door firmly after her.

Is she? Thoughts whirled in Sarah’s head. Her sister had been feeling up her own breast. She was obviously aroused. She was by herself. She might be about to, to, to…

Get herself off. Because I made her be turned on.

Sarah sagged, her knees hitting the carpeted floor.

“If you’re out there I’m going to kill you!”

Helen’s acid-edged voice had Sarah turning and fleeing back down the stairs.

Then she wished she hadn’t. She could barely keep her hands off herself. She could have dived into her bedroom. But now she was stuck downstairs.

The thought of what Helen might be doing raged in her mind. How long would Helen be? Maybe she could risk it.

That would be more foolish than Sarah dared.

There was always the downstairs bathroom.

Sarah raced for the bathroom, shutting the door.

She threw herself on the toilet seat, desperately hiking her skirt up and yanking her panties down. Her fingers thrust into her throbbing pussy.

Maybe Helen was doing exactly the same thing. Right now. Maybe her hand was in her pussy, fingers probing like Sarah’s was in her hers. Maybe Helen’s other hand was on her breast, kneading and pinching. Just like Sarah’s hand was on hers. Maybe Helen’s crest was rushing towards her, electric and wild and irresistible. Like Sarah’s.

The muscles in Sarah’s legs went taught, her back arching, nipples diamond hard points as her fingers thrust so deep into her needy pussy, her orgasm drowning her.

Maybe Helen came at the exact same time.

Sarah crept nervously out of the bathroom after she’d cleaned herself up. She looked around. Helen was nowhere in sight. Which was a shame, but maybe it was for the best.

She couldn’t find Helen anywhere downstairs. Cautiously Sarah padded up the stairs. The door to the bathroom was open. She didn’t think Helen was in there. The door to her sister’s room was still closed. Sarah didn’t think that just barging in would do her much good. Helen would throw her straight back out.

And yes, she could drop Helen. Tell her to let Sarah come and go as she pleased. But there was a knot of guilt. She couldn’t make herself do that. She was, if she was being honest, still too scared of her sister.

But she could do it.

Before Sarah could decide, the door to Helen’s room burst open.

To Sarah’s disappointment her sister was fully clothed.

“I’m going out,” Helen declared.

Sarah could stop her. Drop Helen and make her stay home. In her underwear. But that guilt was back. She didn’t want to ruin her sister’s life.

Helen was just too important to do that. If Helen had things she wanted to do, Sarah just couldn’t bring herself to stop that.

And anyway, wherever Helen went, she’d come home.

(To be continued)