The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I didn’t fuck my brother again for the rest of the week. I didn’t let him massage me, I didn’t let things get out of control.

It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but I knew that I couldn’t be trusted. That he couldn’t be trusted. I knew that if I let his hands start roaming all over my body, it wouldn’t be long until I was on my back, begging him for me.

Letting him fuck me had been a one-time thing. An experiment. It couldn’t be repeated.

It could never be repeated.

I tried desperately not to think about it. But every time Keenan came inside me, I mentally compared him to my brother. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it.

I couldn’t help it.

Maybe that was the moment I should have realized there was no going back. I couldn’t even fuck my boyfriend without thinking of my brother.

Each and every time.

That whole week, I was so proud of myself; I didn’t fuck my brother once.

But I did spend a lot of the week sucking his dick.

“Anytime, anywhere,” I’d said, and…well, I stayed true to my word.

Our bedroom had become a bit of a nude zone. As soon as I got home, I’d strip off, get off in front of my brother, and then spend the rest of the night naked. I could always hear when our parents were coming up the stairs, and had a housecoat ready.

And after our last massage, Melvin stopped wearing clothes around the room as well.

At first I found it a little weird, but it wasn’t long before…well, I started enjoying the view.

Look, Melvin isn’t my type. Even if he wasn’t my twin brother, there was nothing about his body that I found appealing. He had these weird knobbly knees, basically zero muscle definition. His ass was so small it was practically concave, and his acne was not limited to his face.

Defying biology and gravity both, however, his cock was almost always hard, pointed straight at my face.

I like to think I had something to do with. How often I’d play with myself while watching it, or maybe just the sight of my tits and bare pussy, always accessible to my brother’s gaze.

But maybe it was just life as a teenager. I hear a breeze is enough to turn most guys of his age on; clearly, my brother was no exception to the rule.

Whatever the reason, it was a helluva watch.

His cock really was a thing of beauty. Ten rock-hard inches, standing proudly the majority of the time. His head was this angry reddish purple color, and if I stared at it for long enough, it’d pulse, emitting a little bit of pre-cum.

My hands always itched at the sight of that glassy liquid. I wanted to dip my fingertips in it, spread it around his entire cock. I was overcome with this urge to taste it…

And if I asked, Melvin would almost always let me.

Like I said—a lot of that week was spent kneeling in front of Melvin, one hand between my legs, my mouth wrapped around his cock. I honestly lost count of how many times I swallowed his seed down. Anytime he’d let me, anytime he asked, I wouldn’t hesitate.

It was better than letting him fuck me, right?

We’ve always been able to communicate without needing to talk, and our twin connection quickly transferred to our new way of spending time together. Melvin wouldn’t even have to vocalize the thought—he’d just shoot me a glance, and my mouth would start to water. On the rare occasion I was wearing clothing, I’d quickly strip it off, make my way across the room, and fall to my knees in front of him.

God it was hot.

That’s sick, right? It shouldn’t have been hot, I know. I was just…I dunno, paying him back. His massages were so incredible, it was the least I could do. That, and his cock being in my mouth meant that my pussy was safe.

But the more I blew him, the better we got at it, the more I found the whole situation a weird turn-on.

Not just worshipping his giant cock with my mouth—that part had always been a turn-on. I like giving head, I like giant cocks.

No, I mean…the situation itself. Sharing a room, naked, with my brother. My mouth, constantly being available to him. Swallowing down load after load of his strangely-sweet cum.

Before long, I felt like I was just constantly aroused. Constantly throbbing.

My new role in life was to service my brother with my mouth. It was so wrong.

I loved it.

Truthfully, I feel like I could have lived happily like this for the rest of my life. God, that’s so sick, isn’t it? But, like…who was I hurting? I was no longer cheating on Keenan (I was turned on so much of the time, it had impossibly increased the amount of time we spent fucking), I was no longer feeling perpetually guilty, and obviously I knew that Melvin was enjoying himself.

And then, of course, my brother had to go and ruin it.

“Hey,” Melvin said.

My immediate instinct, of course, was to strip off my outfit and drop to my knees in front of him…but something about his demeanor made me hold back.

“Hey,” I said in response.

“We need to talk.”

I realized that one of my hands was between my legs, my fingers unconsciously playing with the folds of my labia. I moved my hands behind me.

“What’s up?”

“Last time I gave you a massage…”

My face suddenly burned red, and I turned away.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“C’mon, Ally. We should talk about it.”

“No,” I muttered.

God. Things were going so well. Why did he have to dwell on the past?

“I know you had a good time.”

“I did.” I hated that he made me admit it. “But it was wrong. You know it was wrong.”

“So what? I’m just never allowed to…massage you again?”

This was it. This was the moment of truth.

“No,” I said, steeling my courage and staring my brother in his pimple-covered face. “No, you’re never allowed to ‘massage’ me again.”

There was a long pause, as he matched my gaze.

To my surprise, he nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It makes sense. You weren’t comfortable with what you did…”

“What we did,” I hissed.

“You weren’t comfortable with it,” he repeated, “and so you don’t want to do it again. Is that right?”

“Yeah,” I replied, after thinking about it. I felt like he was…I dunno, trying to trick me? “Yeah. Is that okay?”

Why was I asking him for permission? It wasn’t up to him. My body, my choice. Right?

“It’s fine,” he said. “Makes total sense.”

There was a long pause, but I broke it with a smile.

“Thanks,” I said, and he gestured to his bed.

Oh, god.

How had I not noticed that it was made? The…puddle-towel was even down.

My heart sank.

“Sit down,” he said. “I just want to show you something.”

“No,” my mind was telling me. “No no no no no no…”

But I bit my lip, and sat down. My brother had said it was fine. And I trusted him, didn’t I?

Why did I trust him?

I sat on his bed, beside the towel. The puddle-towel. Just seeing it brought back so many memories. Those first few massages, my brother’s touch making me…leak.

A shudder passed through my body. I was suddenly filled with adrenaline, but I didn’t know why.

“Check it out,” Melvin said. Like me, he was still dressed—he was wearing a short-sleeved button-up shirt, and a pair of black pants. Unusually formal for my brother.

What was he up to?

“What?”

I followed Melvin’s pointing finger; he’d set up a camcorder. It was sitting on a tripod, angled downwards, pointing at the bed. The red glowing light told me that it was recording.

It was the sketchiest thing I’d ever seen.

I began to stand up, but Melvin moved his hand onto my shoulder, and my shock faded. He hadn’t massaged me in six days, and…god. Just the feeling of his hand on my shoulder reminded me of how fucking magical he was at it.

“Your body is still developing,” he said, looking down at me. My head was right next to his cock.

I wanted to taste it.

Focus, Alison.

“You’re putting way too much stress on it; you really should continue the massage therapy.”

“No,” I said softly, blinking back tears. He was just trying to trick me. My brother just wanted to fuck me again—he wanted to slide his huge cock inside me, thrust until we were both screaming with orgasm.

Why wouldn’t he just let me suck his cock?

“Just listen to me,” he continued. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t want more massages from me. That’s why I thought we should make a tape, so you could show your boyfriend how to massage you properly.”

I cringed at the memory of Kelvin’s hands, clumsily traveling across my back.

The camera’s red light was still pointing at me. If it hadn’t been recording, I would have undone my brother’s belt, lowered his pants. Distracted him with some head.

I wanted to blow him again so badly. He hadn’t gotten off in my mouth since that morning. Hours ago.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said gently. “But there will be none of that stuff. Just a normal massage. With clothes on and everything. I brought a nice camcorder, and set it up so I could show him everything.”

Show him everything.

“No way,” I objected quietly.

He sat down on the bed beside me and put a hand on my back.

“Alison, I just want what’s best for you. Would you love it if Keenan could do what I can do for you?”

Keenan can never do what you do for me, a treacherous thought reminded me.

Shut up, brain.

“I don’t…”

Melvin started moving his hand up and down, gently stroking my back. I closed my eyes and shuddered with pleasure. It took me a few moments to collect myself.

“…I don’t feel comfortable with this,” I said, gesturing towards the camcorder.

“I’ll tell you what,” my brother said with a gentle smile, “we’ll make the tape. You can look at it. And if you don’t like it, you can just delete it.”

I was very uncomfortable about the situation, but Melvin was so convincing. And the way he was stroking my back…god. I’d been so distracted, getting him off with my mouth…I’d forgotten how much I missed his magic touch.

If I could teach Keenan to massage me like my brother did…

“Fine,” I said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Fine,” I repeated. “Just a regular massage. And…it’s the last one.”

“That’s right,” he nodded, climbing onto the bed and directing me where to sit. “It’s the last one.”

And since it’s the last one, I told myself silently, …I might as well enjoy it.

“We’ll start with a neck massage,” Melvin said, speaking mostly to the camera. “Alison has a terrible habit of slouching—this massage will really help relieve her neck from the pain.”

I wanted to object to his comment about my posture, but his fingers went to work, and all my energy went towards stifling my moan. If Keenan was going to watch this, I didn’t want him to see me moaning with pleasure at my brother’s touch.

“Keenan, you should do this as often as you can.”

“Yes please,” I said, immediately closing my eyes with embarrassment. God…I’d sounded practically orgasmic.

I had no idea where my brother had gotten his massage skills. He must have watched hundreds of videos to learn—maybe that was why he was so confident this would work. Of course, it didn’t explain why he couldn’t just send my boyfriend the videos he’d learned from…

“Alison has a very sensitive neck,” he continued. I flushed, remembering the night before—he’d grabbed my neck and used it to control my blowjob.

I’d cum twice before letting him unload on my chest.

“…the trick is to work with the sensitivity, not fight against it. Use your fingertips to see where she’s most sensitive; visit those spots the most.”

I wanted to melt into my brother’s hands. It felt amazing. God, how had I gone six days without a massage?

How was I going to cope with never getting one again?

Keenan will massage me, I reminded myself. My boyfriend will be able to do this. After he watches the video.

The camera pointed straight at us gave me such a sense of safety. I knew that Melvin wasn’t stupid—if he tried anything, Keenan would come after him as soon as he watched the video.

As long as we were being recorded, I was safe. My brother wasn’t going to pull his cock out, or try to strip me. There was no chance he’d fuck me, not while the camera was rolling.

I relaxed into the bed, hoping I’d positioned myself on the bed correctly. I was wearing a slim dress. It was Keenan’s favorite, actually; he said it showed off my perfect figure. It was a tight dress that showed off my round butt and big tits.

To my alarm, I heard a zip.

“I’m just unzipping Alison’s dress a little,” Melvin explained. “You don’t want it to get creased during the back massage. If you really want to be safe when you’re massaging her, Alison should be naked.”

Alison should be naked.

“My sister should be naked,” he repeated. My cheeks began to flush. What the hell was he doing? “Isn’t that right, Alison?”

“Yes,” I grunted. I just wanted him to move the fuck on.

“Say it,” he prompted gently.

“Alison should be naked,” I muttered.

“What?”

“I should be naked,” I said. As I spoke, he pinched my neck, harder than he had so far during the massage. It felt amazing, of course, and to my horror, the words came out louder than I’d expected.

Louder, and…lustier.

“Once more,” he said teasingly. I didn’t want to fight with him, not while we were being recorded.

“Your sister should be—oh!”

Halfway through the sentence, he shifted his bodyweight. Suddenly, his cock was nestled between the cheeks of my ass.

“…Naked,” I finished, burying my face into the pillow.