The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Okay,” Cindy’s mother said, looking back and forth between her and her brother. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it stops today.”

“What do you mean, Mom?” Cindy said, as innocently as she could. In return, her mother just raised one eyebrow.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

For a moment, Cindy’s heart-rate quickened. She couldn’t…she couldn’t know, could she? Had she caught Cindy, standing naked at the window, or come home early and stumbled across her daughter dressed an erotic French Maid?

Had she caught her daughter sneaking into Alex’s room, late at night, and sucking him off? Had she heard Cindy’s moans as her brother fucked her into a catatonic state, giving his sister orgasm after orgasm before cumming deep inside her?

“The chores,” their mother said, when the pause had grown unbearably long. “I don’t know what kind of deal you two made, but it’s getting ridiculous. Alex, from now on, I want to see you doing your own chores.”

“Okay mother,” Alex said calmly, but Cindy had gotten pretty good at reading her brother’s moods. His eyes had narrowed slightly at her words, and his jaw was clenched.

He was mad.

For the next few hours, Alex took care of various chores around the house, under his mother’s direct supervision. Cindy was told to take off and enjoy the day, but instead she sat in her room twisting her hands, her stomach turning.

What was her punishment going to be?

Alex was going to punish her, she knew this for a fact. Although she’d done all that she could to prevent her mother’s decision to make him do her own chores, he was going to find her responsible.

Maybe she was responsible.

No, Cindy told herself. No, you don’t deserve this.

Although, maybe you could have tried a bit harder…

Finally, after an eternity of watching the minute-hand circling the clock-face, Alex came upstairs. He passed Cindy’s room without so much as glancing inside, and she heard him slam the door to his bedroom.

The minute-hand made it another quarter of the way around the clock before anything changed. Cindy found herself abruptly jerked off her bed and onto all fours.

No, she thought frantically to herself. Don’t make me crawl around the house. Not while Mom is home…

To her surprise, she instead made her way under her bed, poking around until she found a brown paper parcel, much like the one that she’d originally received the collar in.

A curious mix of arousal and terror filled her body, and as her head thumped with adrenaline, she carefully opened it. The collar wasn’t making her—there was no compulsion, aside from her own curiosity.

Inside, she found a black leather leash, around four feet long. Folding it up, she put it in her mouth.

Cindy poked her head outside her bedroom door; her mother was nowhere to be seen. Without any control over her body, she dropped to all fours, and made her way into her brother’s room.

Cindy’s ass was almost as red as her face. As soon as their mother had left, Alex had began spanking her with the folded-up leash.

Loudly.

She wasn’t sure what was worse: the pain, or the orgasms that the leather against her bare cheeks had brought her to.

I deserve this, she’d thought uncontrollably. Was the collar causing these feelings of guilt, or was she just that well-trained?

Or—perhaps worse—were the thoughts right? Alex wasn’t a bad master, all things considered. Yes, he shouldn’t be fucking his sister, but…she had started it, with her pranks and years of treating him cruelly.

And, after all, he always ensured that she had a good time.

At least, that was what she assumed. A new theory popped into her head, one which made her blush even more—maybe Alex had never controlled her arousal. Maybe Alex had just stumbled upon the stimulation she needed.

Maybe she was naturally submissive, and her younger brother had accidentally tapped into that.

No, she thought desperately to herself. No, that can’t be true.

But once the thought burrowed into her mind, she couldn’t get rid of it. All she could do was try not to think about it; a feat which proved easy than she’d expected when Alex revealed the second half of her punishment.

Some part of Cindy had been hoping the spanking was punishment enough. But as soon as she found herself moving again, it became clear that wasn’t the case—and, in retrospect, that seemed obvious.

After all, she’d enjoyed the spanking almost as much as Alex presumably had. More, even.

To her horror, Alex clipped the leash around her collar, and held the other end.

“Come,” he ordered, and Cindy paused, hoping that an orgasm was to follow the command.

No such luck.

When he saw his sister disobeying a direct order, Alex raised one eyebrow, and Cindy scurried forward, sitting at his feet.

It was obviously too late, and the teenaged girl shut her eyes and braced herself for another smack.

Slap!

Her whole body shook with a mixture of pain and pleasure, and she vowed to never again ignore one of Alex’s commands.

Cindy was walked downstairs, and—for the first time in her life—she had a real appreciation for canines. Being leashed was hard—if was too slow, she found herself being dragged along by the neck. If she got too far ahead (as she did once or twice, in an attempt to avoid being too slow) then the same thing happened, but with the pressure on the front of her throat.

After a few laps around the house, she’d started to get the hang of it. The trick was to stay beside Alex, but never underfoot. She looked up at her brother proudly, and his smile filled her with warmth.

She was forgiven.

At the sound of the front door opening, Alex dropped the leash and casually sidled into the downstairs bathroom, closing the door behind him. Cindy looked around, panicked—there was nowhere she could hide. She was on all fours in the main hallway, wearing a collar and a leash.

Fortunately she was clothed, wearing about as much as she normally did around the house (at least, as much as she’d been allowed to since first putting on the collar). As long as her mother didn’t check for underwear, she’d be fine on that front.

Her mother came through the door, pausing at the sight of her daughter seated outside the bathroom, wearing a pink dress and a black collar and leash.

“Uhh…”

“What?” Cindy asked brightly, doing a much better job of acting innocent than she had that morning.

The punishment worked, she told herself.

“You’re wearing…”

“Oh, this?” Cindy asked casually. “Yeah, it goes with the collar. It’s part of the whole…thing.”

“I’ll never understand you kids,” her mother said, and with a friendly smile walked upstairs to her room.

I sure hope not, Cindy thought, breathing a sigh of relief. That had been close.