The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Melvin could tell something was wrong as soon as I walked in the door the next morning.

“It’s my back,” I told him. “I must have twisted it.”

I didn’t tell him how I twisted it, of course.

The previous night, after Keenan and I had fucked twice, I’d wanted to go again. Keenan was surprised—he knows I love sex, but it was a lot, even for me.

Not that he was complaining, of course.

I dunno why I was so insatiable. For some reason, I just wanted it, more than usual.

And so we’d started to get…experimental.

Sometimes we’ll watch porn while we do it. With the volume turned off, of course (unless Keenan’s parents aren’t home). I really love it—there’s something super hot about watching people going at it while we are as well.

That’s another area we’ve fought about, once or twice. Keenan doesn’t like the big dick porn I sometimes put on, and I don’t really like watching lesbian stuff. So now we just search for “amateur couple” and watch whatever comes up.

I try not to show my excitement when the guy has a particularly large cock. Don’t get wrong—Keenan is more than big enough for me. Like I said, I’m pretty petite—I think I’d struggle with anything larger than my boyfriend.

Similarly, I let it go when the amateur couple are both women. It doesn’t happen often, so I’m okay with not making him skip it.

That night, during our third round of make-up sex, we’d put some porn on. In the video, they’d been trying a position that I’d never tried.

“Let’s do that,” I’d said, and Keenan had enthusiastically agreed.

I’d only realized how painful it was after I came, and by that point it was too late.

So yeah, as I limped through the door the next morning, my brother noticed.

“Any chance of a massage?” I asked, and he laughed.

“Someone’s keen.”

“You’re seriously good at it,” I said, and he rolled his eyes.

“No,” I insisted. “I mean it.”

“You just want another freebie.”

“Freebie?”

“Yeah,” Melvin joked. “The first few hits are free.”

I laughed, but there was a ring of truth to what he was saying. His massages were that damned good; I probably would have paid him for them, if he’d insisted.

“You going to help, or not?”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “But you’ll have to take off the sweater.”

“Of course,” I said, and obeyed immediately.

“The tank top, too.”

I hesitated for a moment before realizing how ridiculous I was being. It was Melvin. My brother. Who even cares if he saw me in a bra? It wasn’t like our parents were home, or like he’d be checking me out. He was my brother!

“Sure thing,” I said, pulling my tank top over my head.

There was an awkward pause as my brother stared at me. I guess even after all these years of sharing a room, he still hadn’t realized how big my boobs were.

We stood there in the kitchen for a few minutes, me in nothing but jeans and a bra, my brother staring at my tits. Finally, he sort of snapped out of it.

“Okay,” he said, a weird quaver in his voice. “Go lie down on the bed.”

I practically ran to the bedroom. Melvin wasn’t far behind.

This time, it was different, more relaxing. He didn’t push on my body with the force of his last few massages; instead, he just gently caressed my skin.

For the first time since my brother had started massaging me, I didn’t fall asleep. I just lay there, enjoying his touch, feeling the pain of last night’s escapades disappear.

When he was done, I was shocked to find that he’d been massaging me for more than an hour. It seriously flew by.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling.

“No problem,” Melvin replied. His voice was a little raspy, like he’d been talking a bunch. “Anytime.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, and I think we both knew that I wasn’t really kidding.

I saw Keenan again that night. As we made out, I couldn’t stop thinking about my brother’s massages. He was so talented with his hands, so soft…yet firm.

By the end of them, I always felt so relaxed, so comfortable.

I pulled away.

“Hey,” I said. “How about a massage?”

“Sure thing, babe,” Keenan said, and started to turn around. “That’d be great.”

“No,” I said, more annoyed than I probably should have been. “I mean why don’t you massage me.”

“Oh! Yeah. Of course.”

When I got home late that evening, Melvin was in our room, reading a comic.

Sorry, ‘graphic novel’.

“Jesus,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “What happened to you?”

I sighed. Was it that obvious?

Keenan had been enthusiastic, but…god. For someone so good with his hands (and trust me, my boyfriend is very good with his hands), he was surprisingly clumsy. After just a minute, I’d had to ask him to stop.

He’d been too rough. Not like my brother, who somehow knew the exact right amount of pressure to apply. It was like Keenan had been given a map of my back, then gone at the most sensitive areas with a jackhammer.

“Keenan tried to give me a massage,” I said. “It did not go well.”

“Shit,” my brother said, then turned back to his comic. ‘Graphic novel’. Whatever.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than another massage. But Melvin had been so generous with them—I was worried about coming across as too needy.

I guess I was worried that I was being too needy.

I stood there for over a minute, shuffling my feet, trying to work out how to bring it up. Before I could come up with the right way to ask, my brother saved me the embarrassment.

“You know,” he said, “I was thinking about what you said.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Maybe I should consider doing massage professionally.”

“Definitely,” I said, a huge smile on my face. “Oh my god, Melvin—you’d be great!”

“Of course, I’d need to practice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause, as he looked at me expectantly. I briefly wondered if he knew what I was going to ask, and was giving me a convenient window. No, I reasoned. He’s probably just as worried about taking advantage of me as I am of him.

“I’d be happy to help,” I said, sitting next to him on the bed. “Any way I can.”

“Great,” he said, giving me an enthusiastic hug. I winced—Keenan’s massage had really messed up my back. “How about tomorrow?”

How about NOW? I wanted to beg, but I just nodded.

“Perfect,” he said. As he turned back to his comic, I slapped my forehead.

“Oh, shit! I’m going to Keenan’s tomorrow. I’ve got to be there by five.”

“That’s fine,” Melvin said. “I can do half past three.”

“It’s a date,” I smiled.

I knew I’d be counting down the minutes.

The next day was a Thursday—normally I’d look forward to watching the latest episode of Riverdale with my brother (one of the few actual week-to-week shows we watched) but I was too excited about the massage to even think about it.

I’d barely slept the previous night. Not (just) from excitement, but because of my back. It was impressive how much damage Keenan had managed to do in just a few minutes.

Fortunately, I knew my brother would be able to fix it even faster.

At three-fifteen, I walked into the bedroom.

“Wow,” I said, looking around. “You’re really taking this seriously.”

“I have to,” Melvin said. “Y’know. If I want to do this for a living.”

“You’re already the best masseur I know,” I said, touching his face gently. We smiled at each other for a few seconds.

“Great,” he said, breaking the silence. “Take your clothes off and lay down on my bed.”

“Of course.”

I didn’t even think to go into the ensuite as I stripped down to my bra and panties. My brother turned, and saw me in the black lacy set that I knew my boyfriend loved.

As soon as I got to Keenan’s place, I knew I was going to jump him. I’d just been so worked up lately.

There was another awkward pause as my brother’s eyes scanned up and down my body, like he’d never seen anything like it. Hell, I know what I look like—my brother had never seen anything like it.

With anyone else, maybe I would have felt strange about being so blatantly checked out, but this was my brother. I mean, my brother. Y’know?

“You’ll need to remove those, as well,” Melvin said.

I froze.

“Uh…”

Melvin tilted his acne-covered face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well…I mean…isn’t it a bit weird?”

“What?”

“Getting naked.”

My brother gestured to his bedside counter. He’d laid out several towels, and a big bottle of coconut oil. His iPad was on, showing a peaceful beach scene, playing relaxing music.

“I told you, I’ve been taking this seriously. This is how they do it.”

“Melvin…”

He shrugged.

“Whatever. Leave your bra and panties on, if it makes you feel better.”

“It does,” I said, relieved. But I was suddenly feeling a little weird about the whole situation, for reasons I didn’t really understand.

My uncomfortableness dissolved the moment my brother’s hands met my skin. I shivered with pleasure as his fingertips began tracing patterns on my back, and then audibly groaned as he started digging in, giving my muscles that deep massage.

“Do you mind if I sit on you?” he asked gently, and I happily grunted my approval.

My brother again sat on my thighs, his weight feeling completely natural after just a few moments.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Get ready for the oil.”

He’d never used oil before, and I couldn’t wait. As soon as I felt it hit my skin, I trembled with pleasure.

“I don’t want to get oil on your bra, okay? I’m going to undo it.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

It wasn’t until after he’d unclipped my bra that I realized what I’d just agreed to, but he slowly spread the oil across my whole back, I didn’t care.

I was in heaven, laying sort-of topless on my brother’s bed, his talented fingers working my back muscles.

“This is amazing,” I sighed. My brother didn’t reply; he just kept on expertly massaging and rubbing my back. He was alternating between gentle and hard moves, sending shockwaves down my spine, making me constantly want more.

I’d given up on subduing my groans. Every time Melvin’s hands hit a sensitive spot, I let out a long, loud moan. He sometimes muttered soft responses to my cries of pleasure, but I wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to understand them.

Halfway through the massage, I suddenly became aware of what this would look like if anyone saw. My nerdy brother, touching and grabbing his sister, his hands on my bare skin, my clothes on my bed, my bra undone.

It’s just a massage, I reminded myself. Besides…it’s Melvin.

This was almost certainly the most action my brother had ever, ever gotten. With a face like his, no one who wasn’t his sister would let him touch them.

Of course, I would never have let myself get in this situation if it wasn’t my brother. A nerd like Melvin, moving his hands all over my body. Touching one of the hottest girls in the neighborhood as she writhed and groaned with pleasure beneath him.

And I really was writhing. My brother’s hands were so talented, so adventurous. They travelled up to my neck, down to the towel covering my panties, rubbing hard, softly. I was glad I’d let him undo my bra, although I was worried that some of the oil would drip down and ruin it.

Next time, I’d just take it off. I felt a little embarrassed that I’d even fought it. There was no point in being stupid about this; it was Melvin.

Finally, my alarm sounded. This time I’d predicted how lost I’d get in the massage.

“Ignore it,” Melvin muttered. I wanted to—god I wanted to—but I knew that I couldn’t. Not after last time.

“No,” I panted, and sat up to get my phone.

It wasn’t until I saw Melvin’s reaction that I realized what I’d done. I’d totally forgotten that I’d let my brother undo my bra, and he’d gotten an eyeful of my tits.

“Sorry,” I blushed, dropping my phone in my haste to cover up.

“No problem,” Melvin muttered, his face turning red.

Well. So much for not making it weird.

It wasn’t until I was in the car, on the way to Keenan’s place that I realized: I was wet.

No, not just wet. Soaked.

I felt weird about it at first. Like, as if accidentally flashing my brother wasn’t enough? Something, by the way, I’d managed to avoid in all the years we’d been sharing a room.

As I was pulling into the driveway, I realized—it was probably just my body’s natural reaction to being touched. It wasn’t like I was getting turned on by Melvin. He was my brother.

No, it was just…that’s what happens when you’re touched. It’s a perfectly natural response.

Keenan’s parents weren’t home, so as soon as he opened the door, I pulled him to the bedroom. I mean, why wouldn’t I? We hadn’t gone any further the previous night (I was never letting him give me a massage again) and I was pretty turned on. And, y’know. He was my boyfriend.

There was no reason to feel weird about having sex with my boyfriend.

I did feel a bit guilty when I had to lie to him. He was surprised by how wet I was, and so I told a little white lie, and said it was because I’d been thinking of him.

I mean, what was I meant to say? The truth?

Keenan’s not, like, a jealous guy, but even he would react badly to finding out that I was because I’d just spent an hour being touched by another man.

And god, I can’t even imagine what he’d think of me if I’d told him that it was my brother.

So yeah, I sort of omitted some of the facts. Lied, even.

But it was the best sex we’d ever had.

When I got home the next morning, my parents were out, but Melvin was in the living-room. Sort of like he was waiting?

That didn’t make any sense, but for some reason that was the feeling I got.

“You look tired,” he said, the moment I walked through the door.

He was probably right. Keenan and I, uh, hadn’t slept much the night before.

It had been a good night.

“Want a foot rub?”

I didn’t even hesitate. I mean, I was never going to pass up the chance of a massage from my brother. Within a few seconds I was laying next to him on the couch, my shoe off, my foot in his lap.

It was exactly as good as I hoped it would be. I looked over at my brother and smiled. His pimple-covered brow was creased, as he stared intently at my foot, his skilled hands at work. His mouth was moving, as though he was muttering something. I could have listened to the words, if I’d wanted, but I just let them wash over me.

You know, if you ignored the acne, my brother wasn’t that ugly.

I mean, he was still pretty weird-looking. But sort of in a cute way, right? Like a gecko.

I lay back and let my brother’s mumblings drift over me, waves of pleasure starting at my foot and spreading to my whole body.

Before long I was fast asleep, lulled to unconsciousness by my brother’s massage.