The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was seated at the kitchen table, staring intently at pancakes, my phone blasting away some tunes through my ear buds when she bumped in to me. “Wake up sleepy head,” was her endearing way of apologizing as she sat in the chair across from me. “Did you check out the links I sent you?”

We were back to that again, and I hadn’t been awake barely thirty minutes. I sighed and pulled the ear phones from my ears, “yes, my dear little sister, but it doesn’t matter what conspiracy sites you dig up, it was scientifically proven that subliminal messages don’t work. I don’t see why you constantly bombard me with this stuff, I promised you I would try to help with what knowledge I have. I don’t have time to keep researching this silliness.”

Her reply was simply to pour copious amounts of syrup on her pancakes (which always marveled me given how fit she was) and stared at me with her big, doe like eyes. “But the play starts in two weeks. I already have my lines memorized but the thought of getting on stage terrifies me still and you promised you could help.”

She never paused once in reminding me of my promises. Ah well, what kind of big brother would I be if I couldn’t keep my word? Forget about the fact that when I had begun my intro to psychology classes at college a couple of months ago I had thought hypnotism would be covered in depth. My fault for offering to help, I suppose, but I had known for years that it was her dream to be an actress, but going all the way back to middle school she had suffered one traumatic incident of stage fright and had never fully recovered. Now it was her senior year and she had a role in a play being produced by the school’s drama club but her anxiety had spiked again. If we couldn’t find some way to calm her nerves then she was due for yet more embarrassment. And I couldn’t allow that to happen.

“I’ll pester my professors, okay? Whatever it takes, you will be ready. Hypnosis can work, I just want to make sure I am doing it right and you just need to make sure you can still fit in to that costume after scarfing down all those pancakes every morning.” I smiled at her feigned expression of dismay.

“But bubba, I’m on a seafood diet. See!” She opened her mouth, revealing mushy pancakes inside. “Blargh.” What can I say, I had to laugh.

Somehow I still remembered what I wanted to ask my prof despite the appearance of Stacy Miller’s black g-string peeking out above the brim of her jeans when she sat down. When I say I remembered I mean that in the sense of I already had my questions written down before the sight of those scant wisps of fabric erased every other thought from my head.

In all fairness, it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen them before. Stacy normally favored thongs and g-strings often in darker, solid colors. What recently, ummm, piqued my interest was the notion that she knew her panties were showing and enjoyed the attention, even though she never acknowledged it. This could possibly be this whole ‘cusp of adulthood’ bullshit my parents warned me of years ago that I somehow missed by virtue of being a studious, shy, overweight kid who had only recently started to come out of his shell. Was Stacy just showing off, or did she want my attention in particular? Or was it entirely on accident, and should I ever get up the nerve to mention it to her would she be mortified? Would she call me a creep for looking? I wanted to say something and, I honestly held this hope deep in my heart, I wanted it to embarrass her. That thought, in particular; gave me the sort of thrill that I had to stay seated at my desk in order for the tent I had pitched in my pants could collapse so I could approach my professor.

“Doctor Martin, I have a couple of questions if you don’t mind.” I had waited for the other students to shuffle out before I made my way towards him. He motioned me over and I read off my list. His answers were unremarkable save one. Apparently subliminal messages were effective in reinforcing hypnotic suggestions for strengthening behaviors the subject already did or deeply wanted to do. It couldn’t change a person’s inherent moral outlook or indirect, undecided individual behaviors, but as a tool to build upon pre-existing psychological schemas it had been shown to work. He suggested a book I could find at the school library with more in-depth information. I also wanted to ask about hypnosis but something stopped me. Slightly perturbed, I left for the library, Stacy Miller forgotten as I considered how to help my sister.

I was more than past perturbed and on to annoyed when I finally made it back to my cramped apartment. As I pulled out my hide-away bed and sat down on the paper- thin mattress I couldn’t help but feel upset that my lovely, brilliant, oh-so considerate sister had me running around in circles for half the day, on a Friday no less. Turned out the book my professor suggested, Bobbi had already checked out weeks ago on my student ID!

Given her intellect and personality, she most likely already knew what I was trying to learn and probably was keeping quiet about it just to mock me later. Of course, I didn’t want to stay angry at her. She was the reason why I was attending the local junior college despite a scholarship offer at a school out of town. Well that and the idea of dorm life scared me. But, with mom and dad providing money for my own place, no matter how small, came at the price of having to stay nearby them and look after my sister some days, it was worth it, until she did stuff like this. If she didn’t have a hard-earned aversion to medication of every type I would tell her to just take some damn pills for her anxiety like millions of people do every day, but I knew she would hate that.

Dealing with her could be frustrating at times. With only 15 months between us, we were always maddeningly close. In fact, mom said I gave my sister the nickname Bobbi because I couldn’t pronounce the word “baby” when they first brought her home. Her real name was Ashley but in our family we all called her Bobbi. As kids she’d always follow me around and interject herself in to whatever I was doing. This resulted in making her something of a tomboy, up until five years ago, when she became seriously ill. The kind of illness where the only cure is forced weight loss and baldness, the kind of illness many kids and adults don’t make it back from.

She persevered, however, and is now in her senior year in high school and is set to do some great things. When she isn’t being goofy or purposefully trying to frustrate me, she will still give me a hug and whisper ‘thank you’ for all those months spent at her bedside playing with dolls, drinking imaginary tea, reading to her, and making some truly bad jokes. I realized as I wiped some moisture from my eyes that my place was very dusty. It was impossible for me to stay mad at her, which is the mindset I had when she found me just moments later as she walked in. Of course, she would quickly put my mood to the test.

“Weeping again in anticipation of my arrival I see,” she proclaimed as she shrugged her bookbag off her shoulder. “Fear not, mere mortal, for like the sun I always return when your world is at its darkest.” She then stretched out on the hide-away bed next to me.

I smirked. “More like you always return like a bad infection, the kind penicillin used to fix but you have outpaced modern medicine and your arrival threatens all of humanity.” Oh yeah, I got her with that one.

She yawned, and even went so far as to sit back up and went through the entire fake stretching motion; given how this caused her school sweater to tighten across her chest, I looked away. “Sorry, did you say something, Bubba? I fell asleep there for a second.” Bubba was her pet name for me.

“Umm, you win, okay. But before you celebrate this rare victory, know that I went to my school’s library today to get a book that had been suggested and found out- “

She snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah I checked out some books on your ID a couple of weeks ago. That’s where I learned about subliminal messages possibly being effective.”

“You could have just told me all that to start with, you know?” My tone made it clear how miffed I was.

“Well, that was what all the links were for, plus I couldn’t tell you because… uh—“ she then slapped a hand across her mouth and I chuckled at way she exaggerated her movements. Always the ham, my sister.

“And why couldn’t you tell me, Bobbi? Were the original studies top secret or something?”

She flashed her most innocent, angelic smile, and I immediately knew something was up. “Okay, soooo I may have tried them out on you without your knowledge or consent as a test run and- “

It was my turn to interrupt. “What the hell?!?! Just what do you think you are doing? And how… unless it’s those MP3’s you’ve been loaning me, is that what it is, Ashley?” I used her real name, she knew I was serious. She looked down at her feet for several long moments. When she replied there was a noticeable stammer in her voice.

“Well I thought I could test it out and if it worked maybe influence you in to working harder on getting me ready for the play.”

I stared at her. I knew she was holding something back, so I decided I needed her to confess the rest right then and there. “That’s bullshit Ashley. I made a promise to you and you know what that means to me, so your test would have confirmed nothing. Tell me the truth.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked away. She then quickly returned my gaze with a glint of steel behind her eyes. “Alright, the truth is that I figured I would kill two birds with one stone. You go to school and stay cooped up in here. You don’t have any close friends, never had a girlfriend that I know of, despite being smart, funny, and cute.” She actually blushed with that last one, but I barely noticed, with the ever-growing pit in my stomach threatening to swallow me whole. “Kacy likes you, she bugs me all the time about talking you in to dating her. So first I thought I’d encourage you to ask her out. The MP3’s I gave you I made with some free audio software that can overlay tracks on preexisting files.”

“Oh god,” I just shook my head.

“Wait. Please wait, Bubba. Okay, so I made some subliminal messages for you that, until this afternoon, you didn’t even believe would work. Turns out they didn’t, I assume, since you never once even asked me about Kacy. So, last week I changed the subliminal messages and just made them more general. Just increased your interest in girls. I swear to you I was going to confess and see if you had noticed anything different but then I was scared and ashamed and today you started to believe this stuff might actually work and I had to tell you and oh god, I am sorry.” As she went on, she was talking faster and faster until the last part was nearly a blur.

Suddenly she buried her face on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around me, and squeezed all while sniffling out half muted apologies in to the collar of my shirt. I felt like rolling my eyes at her latest bone headed scheme, but the truth was I loved my sister, hell I’d take a bullet for her; my anger always melted whenever I saw her cry, and, as much as I hated to admit it, Bobbi was right. I had been perving on Stacy Miller lately. I decided to share that information with her in the hopes it might cheer her up and put an end to her nearly crushing my ribs.

“Bobbi, it’s okay. The truth is lately I have been, uh noticing girls more overtly I guess you could say. So, it worked, it worked and no one was harmed. So, I suppose your test was a success.” She let me go and beamed at me.

“Let me guess, a class-mate right? You ask her out yet, and if not what about Kacy?” Her mascara wasn’t even running yet from her tears and she was already back to trying to hook her friend up.

I laughed, my previous anger now completely dissipated before the radiance that was her smile. I was quite use to her mood swings, and honestly, I preferred her smiling as she was in that instance. “Kacy is a senior in high school, duh, while I’m a college man now. That matters to me. And yes, the girl I’ve started to like is a girl in my psychology class.” I didn’t understand why I added the next part, just that I felt like it would make Bobbi happier to hear it. “She sits in front of me and her thongs are always hanging out of her pants. I keep wondering if she knows they are showing and if it’s on purpose or not.” I didn’t add that part of me just wanted to ask Stacy in the hopes that the question alone would embarrass her.

Bobbi’s reply was to look pensive for several moments before standing up. She then began to pat me on my head. “Ah young padawan, much to learn you have.” She leaned forward and looked me in the eyes, as if her next point was steeped in significance. “If a girl ever has anything showing, it’s because that is by design, she wants herself on display. Why do you think we spend so much time trying on clothes when we buy them or are getting ready to go out? If you aren’t even going to consider Kacy then you should ask this other girl for her digits, unless you just like peeking at her. Though if you two do hit it off I want to meet her, she has to get my seal of approval.” She straightened up, placed her hands on her hips and laughed. “My brother the creeper, honestly I am impressed. Anyhow I am gonna change and make some sandwiches. If you want to get your laptop out I’ll show you how I made those audio files, and tell you my ideas for some video overlays, then I want to go swimming before they close the pool for the night.”

I watched, her short skirt swishing in time with her hips, as she walked towards the tiny bedroom. I remembered the uniform skirts of Grady High School being longer, but I didn’t dwell on it. I supposed that she would be staying the night yet again, which meant I would be sleeping on this extremely uncomfortable couch/bed contraption. While I didn’t give a damn about swimming at the pool in my run-down apartment complex; I’d have much rather read the article my sister had hijacked with my student ID, I wasn’t about to let her roam around the neighborhood without me watching out for her. I thanked the stars that she was raised in such a way that she respected herself and never wore anything too revealing, truth was several of her classmates lived in these apartments as well. And if they dared to say or do anything out of line I’d put a dent in their skulls. Feeling brotherly in a macho kind of way, I got up and went in to the kitchen to help retrieve stuff for the sandwiches out of the fridge.