The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Properly Handled: Bubba

(Inspired by the stories “Night Time Nudging” and “Baby Steps” by MindSpark)

Chapter Five: The Abyss Gazes Back

“Boo.”

It was easy to scare her, I just hypnotized her when she entered and simply had her forget me and not see me in the room until I spoke. She yelped and spun around; her skirt twirled high enough for little pink thong to show. I wrapped my arms around her to keep from eating an errant elbow. I made sure in advance that we would be in the perfect spot for my phone to record what was to follow.

“Welcome home, little sister.” I knew she’d show up, the comment to Kacy being the perfect prod to confront my sister with. It was time to prepare her for the next stage in her evolution.

“Let me go you bastard,” I held her so tight it was hard to hear her. Plus, I loved the feel of her boobs pressed against me. I always have. The bastard comment though, it was past time to inform her that I knew her game, and what she was all about.

“What, I thought this is what you wanted? And bastard, really Ashley, you know I have a father. It was under his roof you tried to seduce me. It was in his house you made many of the subliminal messages you tried to use to manipulate me.” I picked her up under her arms and held her head next to the ceiling to emphasize the point; I had the power here. She was done controlling my actions. “You really should have thought this through.”

“How,” she gulped and looked quite sexy when she did it.

So, I laid it out for her. How I discovered her scheme and turned it against her to ensnare not only her but Kacy as well. I thought of more details to add, my plans for example, how truly depraved and awful I could be. My arms were shaking. I found it more and more difficult to look her in the eye.

“Don’t hurt her,” she said. As if that was all I wanted to do. As if I didn’t admire Kacy for standing against the potent mix of subliminal messages and hypnotism. ‘Dear sister, this has always been about hurting one person,’ I thought.

I said, “you told me everything, you know. All your plans and your sick little fantasies. I heard about how you made her your guinea pig. Does she know that, little miss high and mighty. Does she know what you wanted your brother to do to you, does she know what you used on her to try to make that happen?” I gave her my sternest look, but inside I asked myself, ‘does she realize who I really wanted to hurt by doing this.’

“Bubba,” she said, as her face began to change.

What happened to my angelic little sister? “You’re not my Bobbi anymore,” I told her, deflated.

“And you’re not my Bubba anymore,” as if she wasn’t the mad scientist that created this creature.

She turned her head aside and said something I could not hear. “What,” I asked as I pulled her towards me. I thought of her snuggled against me on the couch, her intentions, suspect as they were, did not excuse my impure thoughts from back then either. Thinking is different from actions though, and she could not force me to do anything anymore.

“I asked you, did it work, big brother” she smiled. “Are you going to finally fuck me now?” And with that, she defeated me.

I dropped her and stepped back, repulsed. Her face lit up with a self-satisfied smile as my sister spread her legs open in her short skirt, reached down, and slid her panties over until her slick pussy was exposed. It was that moment that I realized that I had no power over her. She was, in fact, first a perpetrator in a scheme to assure her victimhood. I had merely been moving along her plot all this time.

“Oh, don’t play innocent, James. Who was checking out who just a few years back, hmm? Like I couldn’t see you looking, like I couldn’t see your desire. And your cowardice. Because that is what you are, a fucking coward. You wanted this but was too afraid to follow through. Well, here it is, come and take it big boy.”

The worst part was that she did not lie. Wanting her was my original sin, my first shame. Staring at her womanhood I knew not only that I could have her, and that I need not hypnotize her, but most importantly; that it had always been and would always be on her terms. My attraction to her was her power over me, and I could no more deny that as deny the rising of the sun in the morning.

I shook my head and knew only one recourse. “And the award goes to Ashley.” Indeed.

Prone, unmoving, unconscious, she still waited. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, her panties pulled over, her pussy visibly wet and beckoning. I was erect, my face was flush, this was what she had planned for. She wanted me to trample her sacred altar, to make it profane with a forbidden act, and that the fault be entirely mine.

I scooped her up, such was my hunger that I removed her skirt and tossed it on the couch before I allowed my fingers to graze her, to confirm that she had saved herself for me, that her will was greater than mine. She was always stronger.

‘Or so she thought,’ so I thought. I carried her in to my room, and after setting her on the bed, I unbuttoned her blouse, rolled her on her stomach, unclasped her bra and took both garments from her. I rolled her back, ran my fingers through her hair, and admired her beauty. She was perfect in my eyes, even more so than Kacy, whom I found myself quite enamored with.

I grabbed the waistband of her panties. It would be nothing to rip them off, that this was even ordained in a sense. Two people who loved each other, sharing the same space… I didn’t feel it was wrong because society said so.

But deep down, I did not like it, because it caused my desire to war with my sense of self-respect. I could not be her protector and her rapist. I tucked her back in to her thong and fled to the bathroom.

The mirror, yes what started my decline. I stared once again in to its stark honesty and flinched from my reflection’s appraisal.

”Should I be what I want to be or should I be what I want to be,” I asked myself. My answer was simple, I should be neither. I should just suffer for all the awful things I had done.

That, and I shouldn’t be the only one.

In my bedroom I undressed and got in to the bed. I was on top of her, only the thin fabric of her thong kept my throbbing dick from penetrating her pussy. I brought her out of her trance and let her feel me over her, on her, against her.

She moaned, and I wrapped my hand around her throat. As I began to apply pressure she smiled and stretched, which caused her to shift so that I could feel her little nub through her panties as it pressed against the head of my dick. She looked down with her eyes and continued to moan as she heaved her shoulders slightly. I knew she wanted me to suck on her tits.

She was no longer my cute, shy, little sister. She was a siren, calling me towards the dissolution of all the lies I once held dear. But this is what she, and I assumed, most other women don’t understand. We men need our lies because, without them, we are monsters.

I squeezed harder and saw the panic take over. She fought then, she pummeled my arms with her tiny fists and tried to claw my face. Tears welled up in her eyes and all I could think of was the sight of her in that hospital bed; and wanting nothing more than to take the cancer from her, only to learn how powerless I was; then and now. I let her go.

“We’re both sick, but the truth is I don’t want to hurt you, don’t make me try, because I love you. And if you love me, leave me alone.” She tried to turn away, so I grabbed her by the face. “Push me on this and I’ll destroy you.”

Then I picked her up and carried her out of the room, down the hall, and out of the front door, I allowed her keys to hit her bare feet as she stood there, adorned only in her thong panties, hurt and in shock. The angry bruises already beginning to show on her throat. I slammed the door in her face.

She pounded on the door briefly before running to her car in the parking lot. I hated myself in that moment, I-

I slammed my fist against the wall as I remembered our first Christmas together. The birthdays, the ice cream and cake.

I slammed my fist through the wall as I remembered the long strolls during Halloween, dressed up together, sharing candy and laughs.

I slammed my fist against the wall as I remembered throwing a rock at a wasp’s nest, I ran and did not know she was behind me. She fell and was hurt. I went back for her.

I punched through the wall as I remembered beating up a boy who had pulled her hair and had made her cry.

I hit a stud in the wall; and felt like I broke my hand as I remembered watching her toss a blanket on the floor before laying down to view her favorite show. She had really begun to develop curves and her shirt had a gap in it. She caught me looking and smiled. Bobbi, I only wanted…

I screamed and made my way to the bathroom. I had every intention of smashing that damnable mirror and doing whatever I may with the shards that remained. I stopped to stare, of course.

“Bobbi, what have you done to me?” I spit on my reflection. I recalled watching her with more than brotherly interest. She did not lie, and she did nothing more than I had already done to myself.

“Save her,” I told myself and shuddered. ‘How, when I can’t even save myself.’

“Act better, do better, be better.”

Fine. I broke the mirror with my fist.

To Be Continued