The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The next night, after my parents went out, I wandered into the lounge-room and asked my brother if he wanted to try again.

He’d come to me a bit over a week ago with a problem—he had this weird psychological block where if there was someone else in the room, he couldn’t cum. It had been systematically ruining his relationships, and so in desperation, he’d turned to me for help—he wanted to use me as a…a kind of therapy, I guess. A way of getting over it.

My brother had asked if he could masturbate in front of me—as his sister, it wouldn’t be a sexual thing at all, just a way of helping him get over his problem. If he could cum in front of me, then he was sure he’d be able to find a way of cumming with others.

I’d agreed to help him, of course—weird though it was, who else could he turn to?

This would be the third time we’d tried it. The first time had been a useful ice-breaker, but nothing had happened—I’d just sat there, watching his hand stroke up and down his dick for forty minutes, as he got no closer to finding release. The second time, last night…I’d fallen asleep.

Embarrassing, huh? In my defense, it was ridiculously relaxing—that’s why he’d approached me in the first place, I realized. Masturbating for your sibling wasn’t stressful at all, it was relaxing—really relaxing, if I’m being honest.

That was partially why I’d approached him again so soon, in fact. I mean, on one hand sure, I wanted to help my brother out, but I’d also had a really stressful day, and the idea of sitting on the couch and just watching my brother jerk off was more appealing than it should have been.

Not for sexual reasons though. Just because it…well, like I said, it was really calm. Peaceful, almost.

He said yes, and took no time in lowering his pants, pulling out his already-hard dick and starting the motion that was becoming increasingly familiar to me.

I sat on the couch opposite him and just watched as his hand wrapped around his cock, and started moving. Up and down…up and down…stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

I have no idea why I found the motion so relaxing, but I did. As he continued to masturbate, he started to speak, so softly that I could barely hear him.

“Keep watching,” I think he murmured. “Don’t worry about what I’m saying…just keep watching my hand.”

I figured that he just wanted to talk dirty. I know whenever my boyfriend and I fuck, he talks dirty just before he cums—my big brother mustn’t have wanted to become self-conscious, and so I did as he asked and tuned out his words, just letting them wash over me while I watched his hand grasping his hard dick, slowly pumping up and down and up and down. Up and down, over and over.

As I watched, my thoughts began to wander, and I started thinking about the dream that I had last night, when I’d fallen asleep in front of my masturbating brother. I’d gotten myself off in the dream, and it had been amazing—it had been fun, and sexy, and oh-so-relaxing. I always masturbate when I’m in a tense situation, I always have. It’s the world’s greatest stress reliever, and any time I’m feeling even remotely anxious or worried, I reach into my pants and masturbate.

Masturbation removes all the tension from my life—I love to masturbate. It’s hardly even a sexual thing, it’s just something that I do to make sure I’m not stressed. My brother, I’m sure, is the same way—he certainly didn’t look stressed, his cock turgid and slightly purple, his foreskin bunching up around his head, over and over.

Tense, and release. The motion repeated itself endlessly. Tense and release…tense and release…

Tense. I was feeling a bit tense, I suddenly realized. Probably because my brother was having trouble cumming. Yes, that was it. My brother’s anguish was making me tense, and he could see it. It was making him tense, and he wasn’t going to be able to cum, not if he was too tense…and after all, that was why we were doing this. We were in this room to help my brother. I wanted to help my brother, and I couldn’t do that if I was feeling tense.

An idea suddenly popped into my head, and I couldn’t shake it: I should masturbate. I should masturbate in front of my brother. I should masturbate while my brother jerks off in front of him. I should masturbate while watching my brother. I should get myself off while watching my brother’s cock.

I tried to dismiss the thought—of course I couldn’t masturbate in front of my brother…but the more I thought about it, the better the idea seemed.

If I masturbated in front of my brother, it would help me relax, and that would help him relax…and if he was relaxed, he was way more likely to cum. And I was here to help my brother cum. I wanted to help my brother cum. That was my purpose…no, that didn’t seem right. I shook my head slightly, but before I could clear my head, I mentally corrected myself.

That was the purpose of us being here. To help my brother cum. I wanted to help my brother cum, that’s why we were here.

Of course.

“Hey…” I said, continuing to stare at my brother’s hand as it pumped up and down his cock, over and over.

“Yeah, Hannah?” he replied.

“I was wondering…oh man, this is going to sound weird.”

“No, say it,” he said. Say it. Say it, Hannah. Say it.

“I was thinking…would it help if I masturbated as well?”

“Yes,” he said, and I felt a surge of pleasure. It would definitely help. I was helping my brother. That’s why I was here. I was here to help my brother.

“Great,” I said, as casually as I could, and slipped my hand into my already-soaked panties.

Without even meaning to, I found my rhythm matching my brother’s, and we sat there for another fifteen minutes or so, his hand stroking up and down his cock, mine rubbing up against my pussy lips and clit.

I loved helping my brother. I was here to help my brother. The purpose of these visits was to help my brother cum. I wanted my brother to cum. I wanted to do everything I could to help my brother cum. My purpose…was to help my brother cum.

It was that thought that overcame me when I finally did cum. I hope I’m not coming across as a freak, cumming while staring at my brother’s cock—like I said, there was absolutely nothing sexual about it. It was more like a medical thing—I was there to help my brother cum, and getting myself off was just a way of showing him how relaxed I was about it.

There was nothing weird about two siblings in a room, masturbating together. It was totally fine.

At the sight of my orgasm, my brother’s cock seemed to swell up slightly, but to my disappointment, nothing came out. Looked like it had been another unsuccessful night—I offered to stay and watch for a bit longer, but he said not to worry about it, and that we could try again soon.

“Of course,” I replied. “We’ll do whatever it takes, bro.”

Our parents were home for the next few nights, so my brother and I didn’t get a chance to do anything until the end of the week. In the meantime, I’d found myself masturbating a lot more…I wasn’t particularly horny or anything, it just really helped me relax. My life is hardly super-stressful, but every time I found myself getting even slightly tense, I’d make an excuse, slip off, and find a bathroom to get myself off in.

Like I said, it wasn’t because I was turned on—it was just a tension-reliever. And so naturally, when I did, I thought about the most relaxing sight that I could—my brother’s hand, slowly pumping up and down his cock.

It really helped, I can tell you that. Within no time, an orgasm was sweeping my body, and I was able to return to the classroom or the dinner-table or wherever I’d been, a huge smile on my face, ready to face whatever else the day brought.

So when my brother asked what I was doing that night, while my parents were out of the house, of course I said that I’d help him out. What else are little sisters for, hey?

We settled down in our usual positions on the couches, and as my brother’s underpants slid down, I felt a huge wave of relaxation spread over me. I’d already been feeling pretty good, but there was something about seeing his cock right there in the flesh that really made all my worries slip away.

Without a word, I put my own hand down my pants, and we started.

As usual, my brother started his murmuring, but I just tuned it out and focussed all my attention on that big, beautiful cock of his. Beautiful…what a strange word to describe your sibling’s junk, hey? But as I watched, I realized that it really was beautiful. My brother has a beautiful cock. My brother has a big, beautiful cock.

Up and down, up and down.

As I watched, I found myself getting…well, I want to say “worked up”, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I wasn’t getting horny or anything like that, just…agitated. Annoyed, I guess. My brother’s cock is so beautiful, capable of bringing him so much pleasure—but for whatever stupid reasons, he can’t.

My brother should be able to cum. My brother needs to be able to cum. And as his sister, as the only person who can help him, it’s my job—my duty—to help him cum.

I wanted to help my brother cum. I wanted my brother to be able to cum. I want my brother to cum. I want to help my brother cum.

My fingers slipped deeper inside my pussy as I sat there, rubbing myself, picturing my brother cumming. It was going to be so beautiful when it happened—and I knew it was going to happen. I was going to do whatever I could to help him.

I’d do whatever I could to help my brother cum, wouldn’t I? Yes. Yes, I wanted my brother to cum, and I’d do whatever I could to make it happen.

Thus far I’d been doing the bare minimum. I’d been watching him jerk off, watching his hand stroke that beautiful cock up and down and up and down, over and over…I’d been watching him stroke…stroke, stroke.

I’d been watching my brother jerk off, and I’d been getting myself off to help him relax, but that was all. That was all I’d been doing—how selfish of me! I’d been a selfish sister. I’d been a selfish sister, and I wanted to help my brother cum.

I let that thought sink into my head as I watched. God I loved watching my brother jerk off. It was a weird thing to admit, but it was just so…relaxing. No, more than that—it was aesthetically pleasing as well. My brother had a nice cock. I like looking at my brother’s cock.

I want to help my brother cum.

Without even meaning to, I blurted out “Hey is there anything I can do?”

“Huh?” he asked, looking at me, and my face went red. God, I must sound like such a pervert…he was going to totally misinterpret that.

“I was just…is there anything I can…do? Like, to help?”

“Oh god, no!” he said, so quickly that my face burned even hotter. He sounded repulsed at the idea. “Jesus, sis, no…you’re doing so, so much already. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, continuing to stare at that beautiful cock of his. “I was just…”

I trailed off, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Ask, a voice in my head told me. Say it…

“I was just…I mean, I’m here anyway. We’re both here. And it doesn’t seem to be working. And I really want to help. So…is there anything I can do?”

My brother’s hand had slowed down when I’d started speaking, but as I continued to stare at his cock, he sped up again, and I saw the head of his dick pulse.

“I really want to help you cum,” I said, and I swear it looked like my brother’s cock was going to explode at my words. It almost looked like he deliberately loosened his grip to stop that from happening…but no, that didn’t make sense. Of course my brother wouldn’t stop himself from trying to cum. That’s why we were here, after all.

“Well…” he said reluctantly, after about thirty seconds had passed. He was breathing heavily, and I leaned forward, eager to hear what he had to say. “I mean…if you really wanted to…”

“Yes?” I asked enthusiastically, not even sure what I was so keen to hear.

“I mean…what you’re wearing…it’s pretty…drab.”

I looked down at my clothing, taking my eyes off his cock for the first time since it had come into view that night. He was right—when we’d started doing this, to ensure that I didn’t send the wrong message, I’d deliberately worn my bulkiest sweatsuit. After all, we were brother and sister…

Hey, yeah. We were brother and sister. He shouldn’t be…

My thought process was cut off when I glanced up to see his hand moving up and down his cock once more. I immediately relaxed, and let his words flow over me, soothing me, leaving me free of cares…

Men were visual creatures, I knew that. It wasn’t anything to do with us being siblings—he just needed something to look at, and I was right there. Why should he have to go and get some porn when I’m sitting right here, eager and willing to help.

“Of course,” I replied, and immediately began to lower my sweatpants, keeping my eyes on his gorgeous hard cock.

I had a moment of hesitation as my sweatshirt came over my head, but as soon as his cock came back into view, the feeling of relaxation came over me once more.

I was helping my brother. That’s all it was. My brother needed some visual stimulation, and I was helping him. I wanted my brother to get off—that’s why we were here. I wanted my brother to get off while looking at me.

My hand went back to my panties, and I resumed playing with myself, watching my brother’s hand pumping his cock, up and down and up and down…

Before, he’d only been able to see my hands disappearing into my pants, but now he could…well, he certainly couldn’t see everything, but it must have been more clear what I was doing: he’d be able to see the way my fingers lightly brushed against my clit, the pair of digits that I used to penetrate myself, imagining it was a cock entering me.

If he ever needed to please me, he was getting a hell of an education. Not, of course, that my brother would ever need to know how to pleasure his own sister.

I’d never masturbated in front of anyone before, not even my boyfriend, and I have to admit…I was getting a slight exhibitionistic thrill from the whole experience. It was easy enough to pretend it wasn’t my brother’s eyes on me, getting turned on just at the sight of my bra-clad breasts, my wet panties, my fingers pumping in and out of myself, matching the rhythm of his cock…in and out, in and out, in and out.

After all, my brother wasn’t a sick freak—when he’d asked me to strip down, it hadn’t been because I was his sister: I was just a female body, there for his pleasure. I was there for my brother’s pleasure. I wanted to help my brother cum. I wanted to pleasure my brother, pleasure him until he came…

I was so turned on, my mind was easily distracted, racing from topic to topic. I was there for my brother’s pleasure. He was enjoying the sight of my body. I loved watching his cock. I loved his cock. I wanted to pleasure my brother.

No, he wasn’t seeing me as his sister in that moment—that, I’m sure, would have been a huge turn-off. He just saw my bouncing boobs, my bare skin, a girl in her underwear just for him. Just for him. I exist just for him…

Similarly, it was child’s play to pretend that it wasn’t my brother’s cock that I saw in front of me. I imagined it belonging to a stranger, someone I’d never met before, stroking themselves looking at me. I love people looking at me. I loved being watched.

All I wanted was for the stranger to cum, to shoot his load looking at my young, nubile body. All I wanted was the stranger to enjoy the sight of me, laid out just for his pleasure.

But it wasn’t a stranger, it was my brother. And I was there to fulfil my purpose—to make my brother cum. All I wanted was for my brother to cum, looking at me, looking at his sexy little sister.

That was the thought that lodged in my head as I finally came, arching my back in pleasure, inserting my fingers deep inside me, moaning with pleasure at the idea of it being replaced by a cock, by the stranger’s cock, by my brother’s cock…

As I came down from my orgasm, I felt more relaxed than I’d ever been in my life. I was serving my purpose, after all—I mean, in that moment. My purpose was to help my brother cum, and if needed to look at my body to do it, then I’d let him look at my body.

To my dismay, though, it didn’t seem to be having the desired effect. His eyes were clenched tight, his mouth was still uttering words that I couldn’t be bothered paying attention to, and his hand was still rhythmically pumping up and down his hard member, but as I sat there and watched, blissed out and ready to fall asleep, he didn’t cum.

“Bro,” I finally said, and as he opened his eyes and noticed me looking (for the first time that evening) at his face) he, too, relaxed. “I don’t think it’s going to happen…but I’d love to try again tomorrow night.”

“Thanks, sis,” he said with a sad smile. “We’ll get there—I know we will.”