The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After escaping the pool Sarah raced upstairs to the shower. She needed to clean herself up. Needed some time by herself. Away from her mother. Her mother had been acting so strange.

Hadn’t she?

Sarah wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like her mother had done anything, not really. Just some affectionate touches and saying how nice it was to see her two daughters together.

Her two beautiful daughters.

There was nothing wrong with that.

It wasn’t like the way Sarah felt about her sister.

Helen.

Sarah gasped. She was in the shower, one hand against the wall, supporting her weight, as her other hand played at her pussy and clit. While she thought of Helen, remembered how glorious her sister had looked in the water. Her fingers stroked her inner walls, thumb grinding into her clit. She needed this orgasm. She’d been so close. She remembered her hands on Helen. Helen’s hands on her, smoothing the lotion into her skin. Her mother’s hands on her. Helen’s body, so revealed in that bikini.

Sarah muffled her cries by biting down on her upper arm, wave after wave of her crest raging through her, her knees buckling.

Helen was so beautiful. So desirable.

Sarah needed to cum again, this time her right hand working away while her other hand mauled her breasts. As she thought of her sister.

And just a little bit about her mother.

But that was alright.

It was still Helen she wanted.

Sarah came again, this time biting her tongue to stop from crying out.

Once she was done, Sarah looked down at herself. She’d shaved, before she and Helen went shopping for swimwear. Which had been just as well, otherwise she’d have embarrassed herself both then and this afternoon. But that had just been a trim. She could do more. Not get rid of everything. But a landing strip. That sounded right. Maybe that was what Helen had.

Maybe someday she’d get to see.

Sarah dove for her razor, the delicious sensation as it glided across her skin almost setting her off again.

Sarah looked at herself proudly in the mirror when she was done. Something about the narrow strip of dark blonde curls made her feel so grown up.

She didn’t feel quite so grown up when she came face to face with Helen in the hallway. Sarah stood there, like some smitten teenager.

Which she supposed she was.

Helen was still in her bikini, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders. Sarah was sure she could see the outline of Helen’s nipples through the bikini.

Her sister’s very obviously erect nipples.

Sarah lunged for her bedroom door, slammed it shut behind her.

Then dove straight on to her bed, pulling her diary out from under her pillow.

I’ve got her under again. God, she looks so good when she’s under. She always looks so good. But when she’s under she listens to me. I can tell her anything. She’s just standing there, in her underwear. And I can tell her to do things. I tell her to bend over. And she does. She does! I’m dying just looking at her arse. Then I tell her to get me a drink. And she does that too! Then I tell her to put my book away. And get me another one. Tell her to stand there. Then I tell her to kneel. And she does! Helen’s kneeling in front of me and I can see right down her cleavage and she’s just waiting for me to tell her what to do!

Sarah’s back arched, one hand clutching her diary, her eyes glued to the page, as the fingers of her other hand thrust deeply inside her.

And came.

Sarah leapt off the bed when she heard her sister outside in the hallway, after Helen had finished her shower.

Her shower. Where Helen would have been naked.

Sarah raced for her door, threw it open.

To her delight, Helen was in nothing more than a set of underwear and high heels. Sarah could see the evidence of Helen’s arousal, the flush in her sister’s cheeks, the way her hands brushed against her body.

She wished it were her hands. Stroking her sister’s thighs. Cupping Helen’s breasts. Grabbing Helen’s arse.

Frustrated need rose in Sarah, despite how many times she’d just orgasmed. Her sister was standing there, in gorgeous, sexy, lacy, underwear. Helen’s body was tight and smooth and just begging for Sarah’s attention.

“You know,” Helen commented idly, the fingers of one hand brushing her slim neck. “Maybe we should go shopping again. You’ve got some decent clothes now.” A nod of Helen’s head indicated Sarah’s outfit. Almost without realising it the younger sister had put on one of the outfits Helen had made her buy, a short skirt and silky blouse. “But you could always do with more. And I bet your underwear is horrible. A good outfit is built on the foundations.”

Sarah just nodded, her heart in her mouth as Helen’s hand drifted towards her centre. Was her sister about to …?

Helen pulled her hand away, frowned, then shook her head. Then a sly glint crept into her eye.

“If they don’t see it, you’ve got to make them think about it,” Helen smiled, thinly, a finger trailing slowly up and down her thigh. “Think about what you have on under your clothes. Or maybe don’t have on.”

That finger was trailing the edge of Helen’s panties.

“Make them think about how you’d look out of your clothes.”

Sarah didn’t have to think about how Helen looked out of her clothes. Her sister was right in front of her, in just her underwear. Helen had to know that. Sarah hadn’t told her sister to ignore how little what she was wearing.

But she had told Helen to enjoy it.

“You have to make them want you,” Helen said, her voice low as her hands brushed the sides of her breasts. “Make them need it.”

Sarah felt like she was dying as one of Helen’s fingers trailed down her cleavage, her sister regarding her with hooded eyes. The younger sister’s body was on fire, her nipples so tight, her centre crying out for attention. One touch might be enough to push her over the edge. She was drowning in the way Helen was looking at her.

Sarah couldn’t give in to the sensations she was feeling. No matter that she was having to ball her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching under her skirt and sinking her fingers into her sopping pussy. Helen couldn’t really mean the way she was looking at Sarah. Couldn’t really mean the way her mouth was forming a pout and the soft moan that was escaping her delicate lips. Even the flush in Helen’s cheeks was only because Sarah had told her older sister that wearing just her underwear turned her on.

If Sarah did do what she so wanted to do everything would be ruined.

She needed to cum.

She had cum, in front of her sister, a few hours ago.

When her sister had been hypnotised.

Need pounded through the younger sister.

“Helen, go down the stairs.”

As Helen started her countdown, her beautiful eyes going glassy, Sarah’s hand shot up under her short skirt and inside her panties, fingers thrusting inside, her centre already so wet.

Her first orgasm exploded before her sister had even reached ninety.

It wasn’t enough, the teen’s fingers continuing to thrust away, her next crest building.

Another orgasm hit her before the echoes of the first had died away.

Sarah’s fingers were still so deep inside herself as her sister reached the end of her count.

“How does wearing just your underwear around the house make you feel?” Sarah asked, her fingers trailing over her lower lips, bliss making her breath hitch.

“Turned on,” Helen’s reply sending waves of arousal through the younger sibling. It would be so good if it was Helen’s fingers, not hers, playing over Sarah’s opening.

Maybe Helen’s lips on her pussy.

“And how does wearing a bikini at home make you feel?” The images from just a little while ago, in the pool, burnt in Sarah’s mind.

“Turned on,” Helen repeated, the empty, emotionless sound of her voice making Sarah’s breasts tingle, an aching need pulsing in her centre.

“You like being turned on, don’t you?” Sarah could barely contain herself. This was like her diary. She had her sister hypnotised. Was telling her to do things.

Making Helen obey.

“Yes,” Sarah’s sister replied.

Helen was turned on. It was so obvious. From how her lips parted just so. From the flush in her cheeks. The flush that spread down to the top of breasts where they lay nestled in that bra,

From the shape of nipples pushing into the delicate fabric.

“Being turned on feels so good.” There was no denying that, Sarah revelling in her own arousal. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, so good.” They were both turned on.

“You want to be turned on,” Sarah declared. “So much. And being in your underwear or a bikini at home turns you on. So you want to wear just underwear or a bikini at home. It’s all you want to wear at home. What are you going to wear when you’re home?”

“Underwear,” Helen replied. “Or a bikini.”

“That’s right,” Sarah smiled. “Nothing else. Except heels. And what will it do to you?”

“Turn me on.” Helen’s voice was still so flat, but Sarah could hear the arousal in it. It was like nothing she’d ever heard before, empty and needy.

She was so close to cumming again. Reluctantly she pulled her hand out from under her skirt.

“That’s right,” Sarah breathed. “You’ll love it so much. Now forget being hypnotised but you’ll do what I said. Wake up.”

Helen shook her head. “I was going to put something else on. But why bother? It’s just us. No harm. Unless you are a lezzy, mouse?”

“No, no,” Sarah replied hurriedly, Helen’s smile and raised eyebrows leaving her quailing.

Then her world fell apart.

“Helen, are you finished up there?”

“Yeah,” her sister called in reply to their mother’s question.

Oh God. Help. Sarah didn’t know what she’d been thinking. Putting her sister under. Telling Helen to just wear underwear or a bikini. Their mother hadn’t cared about Helen’s half-naked state this morning. But maybe she’d put that down to just-awake laziness. If Helen made a habit of it their mother had to realise something was wrong.

“Can you come downstairs?”

Shit, shit, shit.

She could put Helen back under. Have her sister go put some clothes on. But she’d been foolhardy trancing Helen once with their mother in the house. If Helen didn’t appear their mother might come looking.

Sarah didn’t want to think about what would happen if their mother found them in the middle of Sarah putting Helen under.

The decision was taken out of her hands, Helen heading for the stairs. Sarah gazed longingly at her bedroom door. Maybe she could shut herself in there. Maybe escape through the window, climb down and run away.

Anything.

Her mother’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Is Sarah coming down? She was first in the shower wasn’t she?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah heard Helen reply defensively. “Am I supposed to be her keeper or something?”

“Sarah!” their mother called. “Can you come down here please?”

Sarah didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t move. Their mother had to be wondering why Helen was only in her underwear. Arousal was still coursing through Sarah. She’d been playing with herself. Her mother would realise. Mothers had a way of knowing.

“Sarah!”

Her mother’s voice pulled her down the stairs.

Sarah glanced at her sister, Helen standing there in just her underwear.

The sight took Sarah’s breath away.

“Oh, there you are,” their mother smiled.

“Huh?” Sarah couldn’t work out what was going on. Their mother didn’t seem bothered in the least by Helen’s appearance. Sarah wasn’t even sure that her mother had noticed. Everything seemed so normal, even her mother’s voice. It had none of that delicious, low, purr that had laced it out at the pool.

When her mother had sat by her.

When her mother had touched her.

“I was thinking of ordering out for dinner. What do you feel like?”

“Not pizza,” Helen interjected.

“I was asking Sarah first,” their mother frowned.

Sarah gazed in confusion from her mother to her sister and back again. It didn’t make any sense. Surely her mother had to realise something was wrong. How aroused her daughters were. How Helen was only wearing her underwear.

If their mother did think anything was unusual she gave no sign.

“Um, not pizza?” Sarah offered hesitantly. Maybe she was going to get away with this. “And maybe we should pick up whatever is. Not wait for delivery. You know they can take hours and…”

What she really didn’t want to say was how scared she was by the idea of the delivery person spotting Helen in her underwear.

“Chinese then?”

“Sure,” Sarah smiled as Helen just shrugged.

Sarah wasn’t able to do anything but admire her sister for the rest of the night. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was so good to be able to look at her sister’s body, wrapped in those flimsy scraps of material.

She didn’t dare do anything else.

But maybe it was enough. Gazing at the edge of Helen’s bra as it curved across the top of her breasts. Following the lacy edge of her panties, how temptingly it marked the end of her thigh. That same lace, arcing across her sister’s arse.

Arousal boiled in Sarah.

As soon as Helen announced that she was heading for bed Sarah raced to her own room.

And pulled out her diary.

Her fingers plunged inside her sopping opening.

She had to bury her face in her pillow to smother her screams.