The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a full week before Eli brought the matter up again. He had a new obsession—getting his sister off—and it was something he wanted to practice at every opportunity. Every morning and every night, he’d rub Sophie between the legs until she came. It got to the point where she stopped masturbating entirely (something that he’d done a long time ago), so reliable were her brother-induced orgasms.

But where she thought she’d gotten off the hook, I knew that she was just digging the hole even deeper. Her brother was growing increasingly obsessed with her pussy, and the fact that he’d never seen her without panties on was just amplifying his curiosity.

He started jerking off onto her crotch, and then rubbing his cream into her panties as he got her off. I don’t know if Sophie was on birth control—honestly, I didn’t particularly care. It might sound cold, but I’ve seen thousands born into much worse conditions. A baby born to a middle-class teenager and her brother would be better taken care of than millions I’d seen, no matter how unwanted it might have been.

Her tutelage continued—I was delighted to see her learning about her own sexuality as she taught him what she liked. Rough nipple play I’d already observed as a turn-on, but as she admitted that to him, it was clear that it wasn’t a desire she’d previously been aware she possessed.

To my surprise, at no point did “kissing” come up as a foreplay option. I suspect it was something that they were both equally uncomfortable discussing—and perhaps even doing. No matter how many thousands of people you observe in their most intimate moments, there’s always room to be surprised.

And so it was the next weekend before Eli went to work. For the first time since their sexual relationship had begun, he sneaked into her room—I’d already considered this eventuality, and made sure that Sophie slept with panties on.

When he pulled the covers off his sleeping sister, he was visibly disappointed by the continued presence of cock-blocking cloth covering her privates.

As she slept, he began running his hand up and down her body, exactly as she’d instructed him. She moaned softly in her sleep as he brushed his hands over her breasts, and as she began to squirm, he moved his mouth over her nipples and lightly nibbled them.

Sophie’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked around groggily as Eli’s hands continued to roam around her body. He made eye contact with her and smiled up at her; she smiled back.

For a moment she started to get up, but her younger brother shushed her, and moved his mouth to her panties.

Reflexively I checked to make sure the restrictions were still there. Once I’d confirmed that they were, I sat back, curious to see where the boy was going with this.

His tongue began traveling up and down the cloth of his sister’s panties. I could practically see the obsession in his eyes—he wanted nothing more than to see what was under them, but for reasons he couldn’t understand, it wasn’t an option. All he could do was imagine.

Reaching up, he began tracing the outline of her pussy lips with his hands, even as his tongue attempted to find her clitoris through the material of her underwear. He’d gotten quite good at doing this with his hands, but this was his first attempt with his tongue, and so it took him almost a minute before his sister’s soft moan told him he’d found the spot.

Sophie reached up and began pulling and tugging at her nipples as her brother practically worshipped her panty-clad pussy. I was again tempted to peek into her mind, to see if there was a sense of worry, a realization that her plan had backfired, but I exercised my self-control once more, and sat back to watch everything unfold.

Quickly, quietly, and surprisingly expertly, Eli brought his sister to the brink of orgasm.

“Please,” she moaned quietly. “Please. Eli, please…”

A smile crept across his face, and all of a sudden, he stopped. Sophie groaned with arousal and frustration; by my estimation, she’d been moments away from cumming.

“Please…” she sighed. “Please!”

Eli moved up until he was beside his sister on the bed. He intensely stared at her for a few seconds, then surprised me by kissing her. Sharply, passionately. When he withdrew, she was gasping with arousal.

“Please,” she repeated.

“I want to fuck you,” he responded.

I leaned forward, not wanting to miss a second of it. The look of shock, of realization. Sophie’s freckled face came alive with a blur of emotions, and I drank it in. No story will ever compete with the human condition for drama, and I was loving every second of this real-life tale.

It took a moment for Sophie to process what had happened, what was happening.

And once she had, a look of sadness crossed her face, and she shook her head.

“Now,” Eli said. “I want to fuck you. Now.”

“We can’t…” she said. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

If Eli had been standing, he would certainly have staggered back at the response. The poor boy looked like he’d been slapped in the face. All at once, he felt betrayed, embarrassed. Like all teenage boys, he was aware of his inexperience in sexual matters—for once, he’d thought he was playing the game right, ahead of the curve and reading the signals.

Instead, he’d made a fool of himself.

Blood rushed to his face, and I saw his eyes grow wet.

“I have to go,” he mumbled, and he ran out of the room, not even getting dressed. I quickly checked—their parents were still asleep.

Sophie didn’t know that, and so she quickly slipped on a gown before chasing after him.

“Eli!”

His locked bedroom door did not respond.

“Eli, I’m…I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

The next twenty-four hours were tense. A Saturday, the kids didn’t even have school to diffuse the situation. Their parents (possibly with a bit of coaxing from me) decided to go on an overnight fishing trip, and so the two hormone-filled teenagers were left alone.

The moment the car left the driveway, Sophie stripped off. She changed into her favorite pair of panties—a lace pair of boy short panties that she knew Eli loved.

No matter what she called through the door, her brother refused to respond, and so she resorted to camping out in the hall, waiting for him to leave the room.

Finally, almost ten hours after he’d fled from her bedroom that morning, he unlocked his door and came out.

“Eli, please…” she said, but he walked past her, stony-faced, and locked the bathroom door behind him.

When he came out, he was surprised by what he saw. I’d watched Sophie pacing back and forth, trying to come up with a solution. She knew the consequences if things went sour, and I knew that she’d do anything she could to avoid them.

When Eli emerged from the bathroom, he was met by the sight of Sophie kneeling in front of the door, her arms behind her back, her eyes closed and her mouth open.

The teenage boy paused, and took a moment to think. To her credit, Sophie’s eyes didn’t open—they didn’t even twitch. She just knelt patiently, expectantly, and waited to see how the dice would land.

By that point it had been almost 18 hours since Eli had cum. Normally that wouldn’t be a huge deal, except over the last month he’d grown used to having his balls drained at least twice a day, and more often every few hours.

I was impressed—and a little surprised—when Eli stepped around his sister, and returned to his room, locking the door behind him.

At the sound of failure, Sophie’s eyes reopened, and she began to silently cry. I knew how much she’d hated rejecting her brother that morning. Not that I felt sorry for her—after all, it was her wish.

If there was one thing I’d learned about my victims, it’s that they didn’t give up.

Not that they had a whole lot of choice, that is.

I’m sure Sophie was tempted to get dressed, go out with friends, get away from the situation and lead a normal teenage life for a few hours.

Instead, she doubled down.

Here’s something I didn’t know before meeting Sophie: without cutting or altering the fabric at all, it’s possible to shorten a skirt. I watched admiringly as Sophie adorned her school uniform, and then proceeded to alter it before my very eyes.

The top was easy—she unbuttoned several of the buttons, and carefully arranged the fabric to show maximum cleavage. She rolled up the waistband, somehow turning a knee-length skirt into one that barely hid her lacy panties, and—to my delight—put on knee-high socks and sensible black school shoes.

I half expected her to return to her brother’s door, and kneel in front of it until he was forced to visit the bathroom again.

Instead, she played on another base human need. She called for pizza, and put a loaf of garlic bread in the oven, filling the house with its smell. I mentally tweaked the pizza order to include an extra pizza for me (I, after all, need to eat as well) and smiled as she knocked on her brother’s door.

“Food’s ready in half an hour!” she sang out gaily, and I could almost hear Eli’s stomach rumble through the door.

When he finally emerged, he was obviously shocked to find his sister dressed as a schoolgirl fantasy, her face bright red. (She had forgotten what she was wearing when she answered the door to the pizza delivery man, and been surprised by his appreciative stare.)

The two ate in silence. Sophie took every opportunity she could to bounce up and out of her chair, drawing attention to her long legs, her short skirt, and the full breasts which had attracted me to her in the first place. She doted on her brother, fetching him a can of coke without being asked, collecting napkins for him when he was finished. It was hard for her to find opportunities to bend over, but she managed—I swear, she spent more of that meal flashing her brother than she did sitting and eating.

When they were done, Sophie cleaned up, but before Eli could return to his room, she made her move.

Without a word, she knelt in front of him, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth.

Full of pizza, turned on by his sister’s antics (I assumed), and having gone a full twenty-four hours without being brought to orgasm, Eli succumbed to the temptation. He unzipped his trousers—a noise, I noticed, which sent a tremble through Sophie’s body—and wordlessly moved his cock towards his sister’s mouth.

Before he could reach it, Eli shocked both of us by reaching down and slapping Sophie across the face. Not hard, not with the obvious intent of harming her, but firmly. Assertively.

I could tell Sophie hadn’t been expecting that, and it was an obvious struggle for her to maintain her position, to keep her eyes closed, and to stop herself from crying. After twenty seconds had passed, Eli seemed confident that his sister wasn’t going to retaliate and that she wasn’t going to leave.

He moved his cock forward, and her lips gratefully closed over it.

As he began roughly face-fucking his sister, I noticed one of her hands move between her legs. A few minutes later, as he came into her mouth and onto her face, Sophie’s body shook with orgasm as well.