The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The car ride was awkward for its entirety.

From the moment Mom’s keys turned the ignition to their arrival at the school, the air amidst them remained consistent and unchanging. The look on Mom’s face betrayed the discontent she had with herself; something as mundane as losing track of time didn’t meld with her perfectionist lifestyle. Always the kind to hold her head high, be perfectly punctual, and have everything in order, it was clear she couldn’t wrap her hands around the idea of making a mistake like this.

A sharp contrast from before.

Less than ten minutes ago, she was over the moon with an enthusiastic longingness to be degraded, commanded, and humiliated by her son. Like two sides of the same coin, it’s hard to see that both versions of his mother shared the same mind.

They shouldn’t be able to coexist; Mom “should” have woken up the second things moved away from the realm of casual exercise. Yet, she didn’t.

Wishful thinking had him wondering. Is there a part of her that wants to be commanded? A part of her subconscious that desires a hint of humiliation in her life?

For someone who is invariably strict, to the letter, punctual, and always by the numbers, being able to let go, obey the desires of her child, and relish in her own humiliation could be seen as some sort of reprieve.

That shouldn’t be a massive leap in logic, right?

Regardless of the truth, Marcus kept his thoughts to himself and held his tongue throughout the drive, watching his mother handle the wheel with curious eyes.

“Please remember to keep to yourselves during the exam, everyone.” Mrs. Luna cleared her throat with a refreshing swig from her water bottle. A few students near the front row could faintly hear the sounds of the liquid coursing down her throat.

The dignified Latina woman exhaled a warm breath against the bottle’s opening; licking her plush lips, she continued speaking over her students. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but I don’t want a repeat of last week. Any potential pranksters should consider the consequences of interrupting a time of study before causing a disruption.”

Nodding heads acknowledged her. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she let enough silence pass through the room to prompt a few of them to shift in their seats.

“Perfect,” Ms. Luna crossed her arms around her chest, hands meeting before her waist with a pen held tight between her fingers. “That is the level of silence I expect over the next thirty minutes. Now, unlike last week this isn’t an open-book exam, so—”

She held her tongue as the silence that had just been cemented began to crack, with a few murmurs of complaint echoing behind her when she turned her back to the class.

“This shouldn’t come as a surprise to any of you. Last week I made it clear that exams will no longer be open book going forward. I expected you to study accordingly. Even if you hadn’t been paying attention in class, I put an email out with the same information. So, put your books away.”

Not being open to negotiating her decision with the class, especially when she had done her part in prewarning anyone that may have been caught off guard by this change, she resumed her stride to the front desk. She brushed and smoothened out the material of her miniskirt before setting her round ass down on her office chair.

A few seconds passed, during which time her students quickly worked their textbooks out of her sight.

“Alright,” Behind the rim of her glasses, Mrs. Luna’s keen eyes skimmed over the class, “Your thirty minutes begin now.” She said, starting a timer on her phone. “Remember to stay quiet, even if you complete the exam early. Don’t disrupt anyone’s focus.”

From then on, she heeded her own advice. Making sure her laptop was set to mute, she rolled closer to her desk. Enough so that her breasts rested on its surface as she began to use the time given to finalize the material of today’s lecture.

Her students did well; after the incident last week, she expected some troublemakers in the class would attempt something “funny”. There is something about these kids that enjoy getting a rise out of others, especially those in authority. Being one of the younger faculty members here must instinctively make her more approachable to the students, for better and for worse.

But, to their credit, she has noticed an incline in their behavior since last week. She had to become more strict and hand out detentions more freely, but it’s progress. It took some time, gradually ingraining it into their minds that just because she’s only twenty-nine years of age (whereas her students are mostly eighteen with a few nineteens), that doesn’t mean she’s their friend.

It’s good to have a positive relationship with her students, but like with everything, there are lines. In this instance, a teacher-student dynamic cannot be broken.

The only sound, other than the scribbling of pens over paper, was that of her fingers, which expertly danced over the keys of her laptop. She was used to keeping an eye on the class at all times, even when preoccupied with other matters.

That awareness prompted her to notice a figure approaching from outside her classroom door. Mrs. Luna took in a breath before sighing to herself.

The wheels of her chair rolled back as she pushed herself away from the desk and rose to her feet. A few eyes from the class glanced up from their tests, only to meet the glint of light reflecting off her glasses that wordlessly told them to stay quiet.

As she approached the door, her heels clicked over the glossy tile. Upon opening it, she made sure to slip out of the room as quietly as she could manage, only to find herself face-to-face with a woman of her own height and similar stature. Not expecting the woman to be so close, they incidentally brushed against each other. Their similarly large breasts pressed and squished into one another briefly before they could quickly move to a more respectable distance from each other.

“Ah,” Mrs. Luna flustered a quick response with a soft tinge of red to her otherwise stoic light-bronze skinned reflection. “I’m sorry... Ms?” With eyes narrowing by the second, she adjusted her glasses, trying to find a name.

“Oh~ I’m Nora. Please, call me Nora.” Mom was more openly flustered; not having complete control over a situation left her out of her element, and it showed.

“Right, right,” Mrs. Luna had a hand on the rim of her glasses, “And...” She gazed passed Mom to see the teen standing behind her, “Right~ Right, you must be Ms. Millers, Marcus’ mother?” The Latina woman took a heavy breath and smoothed down her clothing after brushing aside a strand of her long jet-black hair that had flowed over her face. “Sorry, I don’t remember meeting you in person before, but we have corresponded through emails. Your son is an interesting student, to say the least.”

Marcus fidgeted at the implication that held. He wasn’t aware they had spoken before; talking about him without even knowing about it made a curious mind wonder what exactly they had said. It adds up, though. That must be how Mom knew about his overall grades, which is the reason he’s in the dog house, to begin with.

Mrs. Luna’s sharp gaze doubled with her distracting figure, added to the many reasons why he’d always have issues focusing in class. Even now, he took an instinctive step back at just the weight of her eyes looking down on him.

“He is,” Mom agreed, though while doing so, she positioned herself in front of her son, forcing the teacher to take her eyes off him. “But he did nothing wrong today,” she cleared her throat, then, with two hands placed on both sides of her hips, she began to speak with the air of distinct formality that she’d usually hold herself to. “I came here to formally apologize for my son arriving late. He has had some issues in the past with your class. But I want to make it clear that today it was entirely my own fault for my son being tardy. He had been ready before me, and I had mistakenly allowed myself to lose track of time. It is not the kind of behavior that I am proud of.”

“I see,” Mrs. Luna raised an eyebrow, “His tardiness is something we discussed in our emails. I should mark him for it,”

“That is understandable. And I am currently addressing the issues we mentioned. For now, I am owning up to my mistake, setting an example for him.” Mom stepped to the side, leaving a hand on Marcus’ shoulder, “This is not something that will happen again.”

Mrs. Luna’s gaze moved between the mother and son; she licked her lips in thought and chuckled faintly, “I can tell you mean business by how adamantly you are apologizing. It is fine if it happens every so often. Life has a way of getting the best of us,” She took a moment to pause and crossed her arms below her bust. “That said, your son has made it a habit of being tardy.”

“Right. And as I said, I can assure you I have made motions to address this. But, for today, his late attendance is no fault of his own.” Mom’s hand gave his shoulder a soft squeeze.

This gave Marcus’ mixed feelings. On certain days, like when she had confiscated his entire computer set and left him grounded, she came off as ruthless in her strict assertion of discipline over him. But when she genuinely believes she is at fault, that same level of assertion is set to defend him. He both felt safe around his mother and hesitant, knowing that if she were to find a reason to, all of that effort to stand up for him would flip right on his face.

That’s why Emma will always be the person he’d instinctively run to, his perfect big sister of an angel on Earth has never once failed him, and he knows she never will.

“Alright, well, I’m not going to mark him for anything today. From our talks before, I have enough respect for your word to let this slide.” Her piercing black eyes looked passed Mom to give her son a prolonged stare. “But he is on a line right now. I can and will mark him if I have to go forward.”

“I completely understand. When he is deserving of it, feel free. I give you my full permission to do what you will for the betterment of him,” She gave his shoulder one last squeeze, “And your class.”

“Thank you, and I will remember that.” Mrs. Luna said she made a purposeful effort to end her sentence with her eyes meeting Marcus’. Mom just gave her parental permission in a manner that allowed for more freedom in disciplining him if the situation called for it. “Give me one moment,” she raised a finger to her lips, issuing the two to remain quiet, “I will be right back,”

The busty woman turned on her high heels, and the clicking of her shoes made more noise over the tiles as she reentered the classroom, letting the door quietly close behind her.

“Thank goodness, she’s an honest woman.” Mom let out a relieved sigh, not knowing how that made her large rack press against her business blouse enough to reveal the outline of her bra (or couldn’t, considering the size of her puppies) closed over her chest. “I can’t have you getting another mark on your grade; it is on the edge as is.)

“Um, s-sorry about that,” Marcus muttered, feeling awkward as the blinds behind the windows to the classroom weren’t fully closed, and anyone close enough could pretty easily peer outside and see him standing out here with his mother like he was a damn preschool student.

He’s no doubt going to have to deal with more comments about his mother being hot. It’s something he heard thrown around a few times from those that saw her, and he’d always roll his eyes.

But, now...

Now that he saw that body of hers without the clothing she purposely wore to mask her pristinely kempt physique, and not just that, but saw that very body bouncing for his pleasure, he’d have to agree, even if he wouldn’t admit such to anyone.

“I’ll be able to believe you’re sorry for your past behavior once I see improvement. You’re an adult now, so—”

The classroom door opened, and Mrs. Luna came walking out, a small stack of paper in her hands, “Okay, Marc- H-Hey, Leon!” She snapped into the quiet room, “What do you think you’re doing!? Sit back down, now!”

Marcus followed the invisible line Mrs. Luna’s harsh rebuke created and saw the backmost blinds parted just enough for someone to look through right before they closed again.

So he was being spied on, great.

“You just got yourself detention! Don’t peep in on other people’s business. The rest of you focus on your exam. You have eleven minutes left.” The door shut with a loud click this time before she composed herself with a sigh and a flick of her hair, “I apologize for that. Now you see what I have to deal with.”

Mom chuckled at the sight, “No worries there, I go through similar hoops with my company. That’s why I feel so ashamed for letting time slip me by; I have fired many people just for showing up tardy a few times.”

Mrs. Luna smirked, crossing her arms, once again making a modest amount of cleavage bunch together into something much more round and distracting. “That’s the thing, though. A few times is reasonable. Once it becomes a habit, that’s when it needs to be addressed. Call it a hunch, and something tells me you’re never late for things. I doubt it will become a habit.”

“That is exactly how I run things with my company and my family. Yet, this guy,” Meaning well, but still coming off as annoying Mom gave her son’s cheek a pinch and gently tugged, “Keeps acting like I’m being unreasonable after giving him four chances.”

“Four chances? I have a strict three-strike rule. No exceptions,”

Mom took her hand off her son’s face to place them back on her hips, “Well, when I’m at work, I have things run by a three-strike system. At home, I give my son four, and he still manages to amaze me. Sometimes I hear about what happens, and I am just... speechless.”

This isn’t good.

This isn’t good at all.

They’re bonding.

Shit

“Tell me about it. I have thirty-eight kids in there. Sometimes I come into class and just have my jaw drop in shock.” She sighed, “It just keeps us on our toes.”

“Indeed,” Mom looked down at Marcus; she smiled, “He might hate me sometimes, but I love him.”

If Marcus hadn’t enjoyed her playing with his cheek, he was stiff as a board (in more ways than one) when she leaned down and gave him a peck on the forehead. It was a wet kiss, too; she must not have realized she had moistened her lips only moments before; that, in addition to her lipstick, left a mark as her pillowy lips parted back.

“Okay. Well, Mrs. Luna. It has been wonderful meeting you in person.” Mom patted his shoulder, stepping back, “But I don’t want to disrupt your work for too long, and I have my own to get to. We should continue this talk some other time. Not just details about Marcus here but in general.”

Mrs. Luna smiled at that, “I would love to,” She glanced at Marcus before adding, “And if anything does come up, I can promise I will tell you before anyone else. Even Principle Ivy.”

“Oh~ I do care deeply about my son’s success here. If something does occur, it would mean a lot to me if you could be willing to let us talk about it like adults before escalating matters. So, you see that?” Turning to Marcus, Mom kept her upbeat deminer, “Make sure you stick to your best behavior. I think I’ll be more tied to your classes here than before.” her final words held an undertone that made Marcus feel a slight shiver pass over him.

If he didn’t have the music box, he’d be forced to bounce to whatever whim these women decided for him. Something they knew very well with how they casually discussed his very future right in front of his face.

But while they know that he is readily under their authority, they aren’t aware of the box and, more so, what happens when they go to sleep...

Everyone has to shut their eyes eventually, even the ones that have all this control over their life.

The two women shared their personal contact information, much to Marcus’ dismay, as all he could do was stand there and watch such transpire. After which, Mom left him in the hall with his strict teacher.

“Take these, and go to the library.” Mrs. Luna said, giving him the sheets she had brought out of the classroom earlier. “You’ll have thirty minutes to complete this. Then you will return to class ‘QUIETLY’ and take your seat. I’ll retrieve your test at the end of class.”

Mrs. Luna is the kind of woman that would walk into class butt ass naked with her wide child-birthing hips, big and perky light-bronze-skinned tits bouncing and jostling her milk all over her chest, then discipline everyone for not being able to pay attention.

Case in point, she had one hand on her hip while she leaned forward to hand him the sheet as she instructed him on what to do, “He had heard everything, but it was hard to comprehend them as she was wearing a deep enough neckline that her large pair of tits contained in a gray buttoned blouse couldn’t conceal her cleavage. The right side of her shoulder was exposed enough to display the strap of her bra as her unclosed business jacket drifted down her arm.

Once she glanced down, she noticed the clothing mishap and tucked the bra away, but the damage had already been done. Having seen his mother in a new light opened the gates for more possibilities that Emma wasn’t the only person worth fantasizing about. Maybe he does have a thing for older women, but at the end of the day, nothing can outshine the older sister complex that he has had since birth.

“Are you listening to me?” Mrs. Luna snapped a finger near his face. Still too set on ordering him around to notice what exactly had him distracted.

Which is for the best...

“Y-Yeah, yes.” Marcus nodded. He promptly went to walk by her toward the library, but he felt a tug on the tail end of his backpack.

“Leave your backpack with me.” She spoke with a raised brow and a hip cocked to the side.

“What?”

“And your phone,” Her hand extended outwards, painted fingernails glinting in the light, “This isn’t an open book test. No phones, no books. And I’ll text Dorthy to keep an eye on you in there.”

Looking back at her, Marcus was lost for words. The line of her lush lips had an ever-faint upwards curve at the end; was she enjoying this? Or was he seeing things?

And.. and...

She can’t just confiscate his stuff like this, right?

Well, either way, Mom did give her permission to do what she wanted. Even if he did refuse, he’d hear about it at home.

And it’s not like he could just whip out the music box, play it on some speaker and have full control over a sleeping crowd.

That’s just wishful thinking.

Marcus relented with a sigh, “Yes, Mrs. Luna.”

“Hey, Big Sis!”

‘That fucking nerd! In public! What the hell is wrong with him? Why does he keep calling me that!?’

I sighed, leaned to the side, and pushed open the passenger door, it took a nice stretch to do so, but it never hurts to flex these joints.

Well, sometimes it hurts, but not recently, ever since getting that damn good sleep with that music box.

On the topic of the box, I cannot believe I let my asshat of a brother make me forget about it. I was supposed to get it cleaned and maybe even show it off because my friends can do it for some more restful nights.

But, nope.

My brother had to make hugging him turn into a whole wrestling fit, and then he had the nerve to grab my fucking boob.

The lucky bastard, I both love the hell out of him and want to punch him through a wall all the same. If any other person on Earth did that, I’d have my fist mark left on their face for weeks on end. But he’s my little bro. I hate that he keeps calling me Big Sis, but. I suppose I don’t hate it enough to make him stop.

‘As long as it’s not in public... which he literally just did. We gotta get out of here.’

“Are you gonna hop in or just stand there?” I ask, looking up at him while I just went through the effort of leaning over to open the door for him.

What the fuck could he be looking at? Is there a stain on the chair?

I glanced down to see if something had caught his attention, but there wasn’t anything there. I had to lean up because my boobs, as stupid big as they were, got in the way, and...

Oh... I was leaning to the side like this wearing nothing more than a sports bra and yoga pants covered in sweat from head to toe.

I must fucking stink.

“Sorry-Sorry,” I chuckled softly and rolled down the windows, “I just got off a run; we’ll go with the windows down.”

“Oh... oh,” My brother blinked, “Okay, s-sorry~ No, it’s fine.”

“Don’t try to fucking fool me; just tell me I stick. I won’t hate you. You were staring at me like an idiot; I get it.”

“I was just looking at your... I—”

“I’m covered in fucking sweat. It’s hot as shit. I love you so much sometimes, dude. But it’s totally okay to just say that I smell like shit. No one likes someone looking like a greased-up piece of meat.” While he was fumbling for his words, I rolled my eyes and quickly leaned to the side and yanked him in. “You’re being kidnapped! Let’s roll out!”

With my eyes on the road, I couldn’t see where his face had landed, but it was right up against me, somewhere under my arm and near my stomach; he mumbled something muffled and pulled his face back.

I yawned and glanced down, but he quickly pulled away before I could even see where he had been, “Heh, I got some sweat on you, ya?”

“Y-Yeah, I don’t mind.” He responded with a faint blush; he fiddled with something in his pocket and shifted his legs to get comfortable.

It was hard not to smirk seeing him sitting right there. God, I love that little guy.

“Oh, since you’re being kidnapped, you don’t have a say in the matter. But I’m getting us some ice cream since it’s such a hot day. You can try to complain, but it won’t stop me!”

“Wow, you fucked up,” I said. Shutting the driver’s door behind me, I slid my ass onto the front seat, making sure not to spill the

Marcus mirrored a similar action on the passenger’s side; the car’s core clicked shut; he quickly slouched on the seat, “I know...”

“Like, that’s just education 101.” I offered a sympathetic smile to my little brother. “Never let your parents and teachers become friends.”

“I didn’t know this!” Remaining slouched, he pouted, his fingers twirling the spoon over his ice cream in an idle circular motion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I chuckled. He had no idea how fun it is to tease him when he gets like this. “I dunno,” With a shrug, I popped off the lid of my own ice cream container; its chilly aura tickled my glistening moist skin. “It’s obvious. I thought you knew.” I took a spoonful of the frosty treat and raised it to my mouth.

After working up a sweat, nothing beats a nice treat.

To my right, I could sense the weight of my little brother’s eyes, still slouching with his head nearly at the bottom of the seat.

That’s not a good posture to keep up, though he’s obviously aware of that; he just always does this when he gets pouty. If he stays like that, I’ll have to pull him back up before he starts hurting his back. But now that I’m considering the idea of pulling him around, I should really make him start exercising. I say make because convincing him would be off the table. And he could really use some extra bulk on him.

Knowing my brother, it’s only a matter of time before he does something stupid and gets into an unnecessary scuffle at school. A scuffle that he’d probably lose without the build that can give him an upper edge. Hell, if he were better at his studies, some brickhead bully would probably end up targeting him.

The thought of someone bullying him upset me enough that I hadn’t even realized my right hand was clenched into a tight hold around the spoon.

“What do I do?”

“Huh?” I blinked, my clenched fist loosened, “What?”

My brother sighed and shimmied up from his slouch. Good, so I didn’t have to yank him up.

“About Mrs. Luna,”

“Oh, right.” I said with a shrug, going for another scoop of ice cream, “I dunno. You’re screwed.”

That wasn’t the response Marcus was looking for, “Emma....”

My eyes rolled. For some reason, I’m just the person he expects to have all the answers; I swear sometimes he probably views me as some perfect angel. Like him, I make mistakes, I have problems, and things I’m not good at, but I guess I don’t really show them. I like to come off as the sister that he can rely on, just not to this degree. Call me picky, but I want to be the one he can depend on while also not expecting me to carry him through life; there is a significant difference there.

But, from his perspective, his big sister is some perfect saint that he must always go to in his time of need.

That’s a bit annoying, but... I’d be lying if I pretended that there wasn’t a part of me that liked this. Don’t get me wrong, it’s annoying how he’s so clingy and reliant on me, but it’s also kind of adorable sometimes. Like how he’s my little brother. No one else’s. And he’ll meet many people throughout his life, but only one is going to be his big sister.

Maybe there really could be a small part of me that doesn’t want to see him grow up. It’s cute, in a way, having him here, safe, next to me, enjoying ice cream. But that portion of my selfish desire for familiarity can be quickly washed aside by my realistic side. He needs to grow up; he’s eighteen but isn’t acting like the adult he is.

He won’t admit it, but it’s clear he wants life to stay in this bubble of his. A small world where no one moves on and everyone will stay to whatever status quo he has envisioned.

And that’s just not how the world works.

After I’m done with college, I’ll be looking for a job, my own place, and a boyfriend that I can bring back to a home that doesn’t have my nosey family ruining the potential mood. Which means no, even though he’d probably want to, my brother can’t move with me. I’d still always support him, but I just won’t be there physically, and he needs to be prepared for that.

I could still sense his gaze on me as I tried to keep my focus on the food. He really wants an answer, doesn’t he? As if I’m some wise governor of wisdom.

In actuality, I’m just a normal girl that currently looks like she’s been dunked in a bucket full of oil with how much of a sweat I worked up. My clothes are soggy and uncomfortable as hell.

Though, this ice cream did hit the spot in that regard.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t even touched his...

Sigh

“You want my advice?” I gave him a gander and paused with the spoon raised to enter between my lips.

My tongue accepted the sweet vanilla tang, something I relished, and gradually retracted the spoon; shifting it out from the plush cushions lining my mouth. Without looking, I could sense my brother’s gaze. He watched in what I could presume was envy considering his confusion towards my lips as the spoon came out.

He must be hungry; if only his sister had bought him some ice cream or something...

Oh, wait! She did!

With a roll of my eyes, I continued speaking after the spoon left my mouth, “Just act like a normal student and do your fucking work.”

That’s not the answer Marcus wanted if his following groan was anything to go off of. “That won’t help! Mom wants me to ace everything.”

“Oh, my god. Just because she says that, doesn’t mean she expects you to suddenly become some god-like intellect!” He looked at me with curious eyes as I leaned my ice cream-holding hand on the steering wheel to turn and face him. “Once she knows you’re trying your best, she’ll give you back your computer and shit. I mean, come on,” It was my turn to huff, my cleavage rising over the low-cut neckline of my sports bra, “You think I did perfect in high school?”

“Yes,”

His blunt response made me roll my eyes again. I guess I should be honored that he thinks so highly of me. “Yeah, well, I didn’t. And college is beating my friggin’ ass! I don’t tell you this because I don’t like venting,” I say as I begin to vent, “But I barely got the last project finished in time. Like—” Before my rant could continue, my brain caught up with the words that were leaving my mouth, and my lips shut.

I really didn’t want to tell him about my own issues with school. He wasn’t aware that all the time I spent helping him or trying to make his life better, whether that be driving him to a friend’s house, going out for food, playing games, or even helping him with his homework, was time taken away from my own work. My last project was sent in by the last hour, and my grade on that wasn’t the best; I know I could have done better if I had more time.

Marcus would probably just feel guilty if he knew everything I was going through, and even though I don’t want to come off as completely “perfect” in his eyes, I also don’t want him to feel like he’s a hindrance.

“Whatever,” I continued speaking, with a shake of my head, “I—”

“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes looking at me curiously.

‘Shit. He usually isn’t aware enough to notice things like this,’

“Yeah, I’m fine. I brushed aside his question with a wave of my free hand. “My point is, if you don’t give your teacher anything bad to tell Mom, then Mom won’t have any reason to get you in more trouble. Just be a normal student. That means do your work!”

“Uh-Huh,” Marcus responded in a tone that made it apparent he wasn’t listening; instead, he had gotten up and turned around on the seat to fumble with his backpack that was left on the backseat.

“What are you doing?” While he was messing with his back, his right leg happened to knock the bowl of ice cream he had yet to eat from. It fell, and I had to bolt a hand to the passenger side in order to catch it right before it spilled and made a mess of things.

How many times do I have to save his ass? This is Mom’s car; if he had stained it, she’d put him in more trouble than he’s already in.

Click

“Be careful, dude!” I said, chastising him while putting the ice cream container in the cupholder where it won’t easily spill. After saying this, I noticed a strange buzzing sound begin to play, one that sounded oddly familiar. “What’s th—”

“—at?” I yawned and blinked.

‘The hell?’

Looking around, I quickly spotted my brother back in his seat, fiddling with his food again. He was literally just fumbling with his stuff in the back, but now he’s sitting there looking at me like a curious puppy.

‘Okay, I swear my brother just teleported...’

‘The heat must be getting to me, sheesh.’

“You’re done playing around back there?” I asked, a brow raised. Hopefully, he didn’t notice anything weird.

Marcus blinked; it looked like he almost jumped in his chair. “Yeah,” He breathed a relieved sigh.

What, did he think I was gonna punch him or something for almost spilling his ice cream? By now, he should know that I’ll probably never really hurt him, even if he fucking deserves it. Probably some string of code ingrained in my mind as the older sibling is to blame for that,

But if he knew I’d never hurt him, he’d run around doing stupid stuff just because he knows I’d let him, so it’s best not to let that slip.

Honestly, I won’t even tell him he almost spilled that stuff all over Mom’s car. That will only give him more reasons to see me as his personal protector or some shit.

“Let’s go home,” He said, “I can tell you’re uncomfortable.”

I frowned.

How did he know?

Sitting here, in my own sweat and practically soaked clothes, I was uncomfortable as hell. This sports bra was basically sticking like glue to my boobs, and that’s not to mention these yoga pants; I bet I could ring them out with how much they needed to be removed. I actually planned on coming back out to the car and scrubbing the seats so Mom wouldn’t make a fuss about sitting in her car when I was this sweaty.

But, I’m very good at not showing him this side of me; at least, I’m supposed to be. If I’m uncomfortable like this, I’ll hide it so he can enjoy himself; maybe he’s becoming more perceptive than he once was.

“Y-Yeah, I won’t mind getting out of these clothes,”

Marcus let his eyes wander over me, “Me neither,”

I was about to take another spoonful bite of my ice cream when I took a moment to pause and comprehend what he had said, “What!?” I said, seeing his eyes glued unabashedly at my chest.

My brother’s face displayed surprised recognition as he also realized the words he had tried to utter quietly. He reached for something I couldn’t see behind him, but I really didn’t care. Did he say “me neither” in regard to his own sister taking off her sticky clothes?

Now that I think about it, he has been looking at me a lot while we were sitting here, and he was getting distracted by just gazing my way. I assumed he was doing that usual shy act toward me because there’s no way he’d actually... he wouldn’t... I’m his sister.

I’m just wearing a tight green sports bra, my bust is kinda overflowing it, and it’s damp, so it’s clingy; my midriff is exposed, and these yoga pants are almost like a second layer of skin. Really my entire body looks like it’s glistening; I wouldn’t casually walk around like this, but I thought around him, it would be fine. He’s never displayed hormonal tendencies near me. I always assumed he was just far too shy.

But that’s making me think back... there are many instances where I had just assumed he was shy. I’ve been assuming many things, actually.

“A-Are you hard!?” I half asked-half shouted, already knowing the answer as there was something poking long and proud in his pants. “Wait, oh my god.. ”

When I leaned over to open the door for him, that must’ve given him a good view. Or the many times he’d catch me in the hall between the bathroom and my room, wearing only a towel. He’d often get distracted when I walked past him in tight pants. Or, the many times I’d just casually wear my underwear around the house because it’s hot and he’s my brother, there should be zero interest from him, so there’s no reason not to.

Right?

Shit, am I jumping to conclusions? Or have I been assuming too many things this whole time?

Try as I might, like an endless string of dominoes collapsing one after another, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking back on previous situations. “D-Dude,” I say, my words finally catching up.

Only now do I realize he’s writing something like a madman.

Click

And the hell is that buzzing?

Wait, he has the music box? “What the fuck are you writing?” I grabbed his arm in an instant. Though making sure not to hurt him, I gripped hard enough that his hand wasn’t moving. He shouldn’t forget how easily I can overpower him.

He tried to tug his arm only once, just to see that it was locked in place until I decided otherwise. Then, using his spare hand, he ripped off the sheet of paper he had just written and began to shove it into the back of the music box.

I didn’t even realize there was a slot back there. Is that where that weird fucking buzzing is coming from?

The note he wrote was weird as hell, too; I managed to read something like “FORGET THE DREAM!!! FORGET THE DREAM,” written very, no... incredibly poorly. But why did he shove that in the back? And that weird buzzing, it’s not the first time I heard it, now that I’m thinking back on things...

Like when he seemed to teleport just moments earlier, that buzzing was playing then...

He’s acting like that box will just get me to... forget... and...

‘Wait.’

‘His note!’

‘HOLY SHIT!’

It’s hard to explain how quickly I moved when the realization settled in. To say I bolted would be an understatement, but I definitely did lunge his way, specifically for the box. I’ve never been one for foolish conspiracy theories, as baseless as they all happen to be. But there were too many oddities lying back to back right now for me to ignore them all. The way Mark acted like this box would change everything, the note, and the fact that this buzzing has been constantly linked to me having weird dreams, him seeming to teleport, and me randomly waking up from naps finishing sentences that I can barely remember starting...

He’s hiding something from me, and I think that box is linked to it. I literally saw the note said something about forgetting. There’s no way in hell I forget this, even if I have to rip that box out of his flimsy han-

-I blinked my eyes open, feeling a heavy yawn build up in my rising chest. I parted my lips and exhaled heavily into the air. “MMmmmmmmm~!” A satisfied groan came out through the yawn, followed by a sigh, as my eyelids fluttered and I sunk back onto the chair.

‘Chair?’

My butt shifted from side to side; I frowned.

‘Seat?’

Am I in the car?

“Had a good nap?”

“Oh!” I nearly jumped high enough to crash my head against the vehicle’s roof. Yes, I am definitely in Mom’s car. There’s that one coffee stain on the roof that she won’t take ownership of, even though she’s the only one in the family to actively drink coffee, and her nostrils could pick up that faint ever, persistent lavender air freshener scent from the little fragrant chapel she’d clip onto the A.C. vents.

After a few more blinks through my tired eyes, my awareness returned, making it apparent that I was in the car with...

“You okay?” I could hear my brother from the backseat.

“Uh..” I raised a tired hand to instinctively smoothen my hair; the brunette locks flowed between my fingers. “Y-Yeah,” another yawn came out by force, but I was quick enough to stifle it with my free hand. “Did I fall asleep?”

The last thing I can recall was...

“Shit! I’m supposed to take you home! Ohhmygawd! Mark, I’m so sorry I passed out! SHIIIIIT!” With a closed fist, I gave the top of the steering wheel an instinctive punch before leaning my head back against the chair to groan into the air.

Really I’m much more annoyed that I wasted.. what time is it?

I spent a second or two searching the immediate area around the car to find my phone, only to spot it wedged between my ass and the cushion of the car seat. Right, because our ice cream occupies the cup holders, and these tight-ass yoga pants don’t have pockets... so-

“It’s four-thirty?!”

“Yeah?” My little brother popped his head out from the backseat; he let his chin drop on my shoulder, looking down to see the time as I held the phone in front of my chest, at a loss for words after seeing the time. “You picked me up at three thirty.” I could feel his chin moving against me, though I still remained dumbfounded by the time.

“Yeah, but...” How did I pass out? I wasn’t THAT tired, right? “It shouldn’t take us an hour to get home; you should’ve woke me up!”

After getting his eyeful of the time with me, he stopped looking over my shoulder and retreated to the backseat. “Ah, sorry. You looked tired.” The somewhat somber tone of his voice instantly triggered something in me.

It wasn’t his fault at all, damn it. I don’t want him to feel bad.

“No, No. I’m sorry, thanks for that. You didn’t do anything wrong; I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you,”

I breathed in heavily.

Marcus didn’t realize that I have to finalize my part of next week’s group project today. As in, before midnight. And Abby needed someone to look at her car, so I planned on finishing my part of the project and bringing it over to her on purpose because sending a PDF just adds a variable I don’t want to rely on since she always conveniently has issues with her printer when it’s time for an assignment.

I only want my brother to have to worry about his own much easier studies and focus on getting his own life together rather than feeling bad for doing something nice and letting his older sister get her rest.

Still, I didn’t even think I was that tired; but shit, I must’ve been. I mean, I dreamed of...

I...

I frowned. Through the rearview mirror, I glanced at my little brother.

“Wuh-What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice ever a bit hesitant.

Damn, I must be scaring him.

“Sorry,” Looking away quickly, I mumbled, “I was just... trying to remember something... I swear I had some dream, I.. I dunno. I can usually remember them. You know, that’s half the fun of sleeping, right?”

Marcus grinned almost ear to ear, “Heheh.. yeah, haha.. you must be getting old!”

“O-Old!? Oh~? Okay,” my voice lined with a teasing snicker; I reached my hand down and cranked the car into reverse. “Let’s hope these old eyes can still see the road, yeah?”

He could sense my playful intent if his relieved look was anything to go by. I don’t ever want to see him worried, especially about my own issues; I can deal with them and help him with his own.

I’m his big sister!

I held a smile as I maneuvered the car back onto the live road. Something felt off in the back of my head; it must just be some lingering nap jitters. Yes.

My face had an odd tingle, something I wanted to itch, but since I might still be tired, I’m not going to let a single hand come off this wheel, especially when I had my brother in the fucking car.

I can’t risk anything happening to him. I can’t.

Though, sparing a half a second glance down, I notice a clear glob of ice cream on my right breast; the subtle vibrations of the vehicle made my chest jiggle the cream into sliding down, and down, and down, until

Damn it, that’s cold.

The shit dropped right into my cleavage.

We gotta get home.