The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Your twin dropped by today,” Aaron said casually.

My head snapped towards him, and my response was faster than I would have liked.

“Oh yeah?”

Growing up, Madison and I had always been competitive (it’s a twin thing) but over the years, I really thought I’d grown out of it. We weren’t, like, close close, but we definitely got along, and the years of fighting for dominance were long behind us.

Or so I’d thought.

As soon as my housemate mentioned her, it was like I was twelve years old again. The years of tracking who was taller, who had better grades, who was faster, who had been the first to need a bra…it had all come rushing back.

But moreso.

In an instant, the old feeling hit me hard—the urge to demonstrate my superiority. When you’re a twin, you’re always being treated as a single entity. You’re not just yourself; you’re half of a set of twins. All of sudden, I needed to show Aaron that we were different.

That I was better.

It was weird; I don’t even like Aaron. I mean, I like him, but not in that way. I’d been single for a while (although I’d just started seeing this new guy, Mike) and honestly, Aaron had never even crossed my radar.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just wasn’t my type. He was shorter than the kind of guy I usually go for, and a total nerd.

And again, don’t get me wrong—there’s nothing wrong with that. I had no interest in fucking where I ate (so to speak) and living with a nerd was great for situations like when my computer had started acting weird a few weeks ago. After a few hours with Aaron, it was working better than ever.

But all of a sudden, I needed to know everything. I needed to know what she’d said, what they’d done…

Not that it mattered. But I needed to know, all the same.

“She just wanted me to have a look at her computer,” my housemate replied. It was clear that he hadn’t given it two thoughts.

Part of me wanted to ask a thousand follow-up questions—how long did she stay? What else did you talk about? What was she wearing? Did you like her outfit?—but I realized how ridiculous I was being, and kept my mouth closed.

It had taken me years to grow out of this ridiculous competitiveness, and I wasn’t going to let it take hold of me again. And so I quashed my absurd impulse to cross-examine my housemate, nodded, and finished making my late-night snack.

Aaron watched me as I sat down at our kitchen table. I wasn’t looking at him, but I could feel his eyes burning into me. Part of me wanted to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, or snarkily remark that he should take a picture (it’d last longer), or just tell him to fuck off…but I didn’t.

We had a good housemate relationship, and I didn’t want to mess with that.

Plus…it was weird, but something told me that Madison would never have been this rude to him.

And I had to be better than my twin.

I shook my head. What a weird thought to have. I finished my toast, wished Aaron a good night, and popped onto my computer to see if there were any messages waiting for me in the company Slack. (I refuse to do any work stuff on my phone. You’ve got to have boundaries, right?)

There must have been a few, because when I next looked at the clock it was late—far later than I’d expected—and I took myself to bed, almost falling asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I had weird dreams all night. I dreamt that Madison and I were competing in a beauty pageant, then that we were on opposite teams in an episode of Family Feud (which made NO sense, but y’know. Dreams.)

The weird thing was that for both, Aaron was the judge. Actually no, the weirdest thing was that just before I woke up, I’d dreamt that we were pitted against each other on one of those reality dating shows. Like the Bachelor, but instead of fighting over a hot guy, it was Aaron.

It would have been funny, if it hadn’t felt so real.

I woke up late, and had to rush through my morning routine just to get into work just on time. When I got home that afternoon, Aaron was in the kitchen—almost like he was waiting for me—and he had that weird smile on his face again.

“What?” I said, letting my irritation creep into my voice.

“Your sister…” he said, and trailed off.

I felt it again, stronger than it had been the previous day. That competitive urge, that desire to prove that I was better than her.

This time, I decided not to fight it.

“What about her?” I asked, trying desperately to ask the question casually…which meant, of course, that it came out as forced and awkwardly as possible.

Aaron’s eyes flitted around my face, and I suddenly realized that I wasn’t wearing make-up (there hadn’t been time that morning) and my hair was a mess.

Madison’s hair was probably perfect.

“You guys are completely identical, right?”

Identical twins. Of course we had to be identical—as if being a twin wasn’t bad enough.

It attracted some real creeps, as you can imagine. Guys who wanted to fuck both of us, or would dare us to make out or whatever. Not that we ever did, or ever would. I can’t think of anything that would gross me out more, and I assume that she felt the same way.

I’ve never had any issue with Aaron, but in that moment I hated him. It was probably an accident—there was no way he could’ve known about the sudden return of my competitive streak—but the way he’d phrased his question perfectly fueled my insecurities.

Of course we were identical. What was he suggesting? Had she looked better than me??

“Yeah,” I responded shortly, maintaining eye contact with my suddenly-infuriating housemate. My mouth was practically twitching with unasked queries until finally, I couldn’t hold myself back.

“Why??”

His answer was agonizingly slow. I felt like my entire body was vibrating, waiting for him to tell me.

“It’s just...well, she looked more, y’know.”

“What?”

“Maybe it was the top she was wearing, but she looked like she was...well, I’m not saying you’re small or anything like that, but...”

Aaron trailed off. Even he, socially clueless though he can often be, must have realized he’d gone too far.

You never, ever insult a girl’s boobs.

And you never, ever, ever compare them to her sister’s.

In response, I shot him a glare so fierce that for a second I thought he was going to fall over backward. But then—as if he had no survival instinct at all—he kept going, stammering his way deeper into the hole he’d dug himself.

“I mean, it’s only because you never show any cleavage! She was…that’s all I…”

There were so, so many things I wanted to say or do to Aaron right then, but I took the moral high ground. I left the room, shooting him one final glare as I did. He didn’t say a word—it seemed he’d finally learned when the right moment was to shut up…although for a moment, I could’ve sworn I saw his half-smile return.

It was weird—Madison wasn’t normally the type to wear revealing clothing. She doesn’t dress like a nun or anything like that, but she was like me (exactly like me in this sense, I had to admit). We were a particularly busty pair, and while I know some girls dream of that, when you’ve lived through years of being leered at by strangers and having shop clerks staring wide-eyed at your chest as they serve you, you pretty quickly learn the value of covering up.

So why had she worn something cleavagey to drop a computer off?

I shook it off. Could’ve been any number of reasons. Maybe she was on her way to a hot date, or had just bought a new top that she wanted to ‘test out’ in a safe way (I couldn’t imagine anyone safer than Aaron for that). Or hell, maybe she had a crush on my housemate.

The flare of jealousy I felt at the thought surprised me. Like I said, I’ve never had even a hint of interest in Aaron. If Madison wanted him, as far as I was concerned, she could have him.

Just as long as, y’know, he still thought that I was the better twin. The smarter twin. The more pleasant twin.

The hotter twin.

I stood up from my bed, and crossed the room to have a good hard look at myself in the mirror.

I hated to admit it…but my clothes were a little dowdy. I mean, I’m a professional, so I was dressed professionally and I’d done such a good job of hiding my bust that it practically looked like they weren’t even there.

Not that I wanted to look like a slut or anything like that, but…well, who wants to be the twin with the small tits?

Rifling through my wardrobe, I discovered that I only seemed to own two tops that showed any cleavage at all.

Maybe it was time to go clothes-shopping. I mean, I was overdue for a new outfit anyway.

I had to be better than my twin.

I had to be better than my twin.

“Madison dropped by again today,” Aaron said, a few nights later.

I was tempted to throw him another glare, but I was too tired. The previous night it’d happened again—I’d lost a few hours watching YouTube videos on my computer, and gotten to bed way later than intended.

So instead I just raised one eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

He didn’t. He just sat there, this dumb grin on his face, like he was challenging me.

“What did she want this time?” I asked, rolling my eyes. I couldn’t tell who I was more annoyed with—him, for provoking me…or myself, for falling for it.

“She came by again today—she managed to download another virus, somehow.”

I chuckled. Madison was even more useless with tech as I was.

I had to be better than my twin.

“She ended up making some lunch as a thanks. Best Mexican I’ve ever had!”

My other eybrow joined my first. A part of me wondered if he was deliberately pushing my buttons. Our shared love of food was one of the main reasons Aaron and I had moved in together in the first place—Aaron’s a foodie, I love to cook…

Deliberate or not, it was working. I was suddenly hooked. I had to be better than my twin.

Who, I should point out, can barely boil water without setting the kitchen on fire.

Okay, so between work and spending time with Mike (who I really liked), I hadn’t gotten a chance to cook anything lately. But that was going to change, starting immediately.

“Mexican? What’d she make?”

“She said she’d just learned some kind of new tortilla recipe. She raided the cupboards and half an hour later, we were eating the most amazing burritos I’ve ever had.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, it was great. Man, living with her when you were growing up must have been the best.”

Yeah—for her!

“You still like to cook, yeah?”

I nodded, gritting my teeth so hard I’d probably need dental work.

“You should get her to teach you some stuff,” Aaron grinned, and that did it.

I was suddenly so mad that I couldn’t even speak. Without a word, I got up, pulled out the mixing bowl, a wooden spoon, and some corn flour, and got to work.

Later that night when I went out with Mike, he was a little annoyed that I wasn’t hungry. He’d taken me to this restaurant, really excited to show it off to me. He knows how important food is to me.

All I needed to do was lean forward and throw my shoulders back, and his complaints died in his throat.

Side-effect of showing more cleavage: it’s suddenly much, much easier to keep your boyfriend happy. Who knew?

“Does your sister run?” Aaron asked out of the blue, about a week later. I was in the middle of removing the frittata from the oven—I’d cooked dinner every night since our conversation about it.

I was going to prove that I was a better cook than Madison if it was the last thing I did.

I had to be better than my twin.

“Mmmmm, I don’t think so,” I said. I’d almost dropped the tray when he spoke—there was something about Aaron talking about my sister that really got in my head. I was trying to sound nonchalant, but every fibre of my body was buzzing to hear what he was going to say next.

“When she made those burritos last week, I noticed her legs. She’s so fit! I figured she must run, because…well, damn.”

Aaron winked. “I have amazing legs too!” I wanted to scream, but I bit my tongue and focused on serving him dinner.

He’d offered to help, once or twice, but I’d told him to just sit there so he could really focus on the quality of the mal.

Back in the day, I probably would’ve had him do the dishes in exchange, but I knew Madison had done them after the burrito she’d made him (that he still wouldn’t stop raving about) and so that wasn’t an option.

She’d set the bar, and it was up to me to beat it.

I had to be better than my twin.

“Nah,” I said. “She doesn’t run.”

I smiled, proud of my self-control for stopping there. Too proud, maybe, because I suddenly found myself adding a smug addendum.

“I do, though.”

“Oh really?”

“Uh huh.”

“I guess I never noticed,” Aaron said, leaning back and running his eyes up and down my body. “Because of the way you always cover them up.”

I was torn. On one hand, I wanted his attention on the amazing dish I’d just served him.

On the other hand, it was like Madison had stopped by herself and thrown down the gauntlet. Despite the fact that I really have no interest in my housemate, I suddenly craved his eyes on my form. I wanted him to check me out…so he could compare me to my sister.

So that I could win.

So that I could be better than my twin.

After several minutes of leering, my housemate shrugged, and began eating. His response left me feeling strangely flat.

It’s funny—a few weeks ago, I would’ve felt like a lavicious comment about my body from Aaron was completely inappropriate. Now, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more.

After we finished eating—and I’d done the dishes and cleaned the kitchen—I returned to my room, and checked myself out in the mirror once more.

Sure enough, my legs (which I knew were great) were completely covered up by the slacks I wore to work. So unless I started spending my time around the apartment in my panties (an idea so inappropriate it made me giggle), I’d have to pick up something that showed them off a little better.

I glanced at my bank statement with a worried look. I’d gone a bit overboard the last time I’d gone online shopping…but when the tops had arrived, they’d been totally worth it. And Aaron, annoyingly, was right again—I didn’t own a single item of clothing that highlighted my legs.

Screw it, I thought, opening up a new browser window. What’s the point of running if no one sees the results?

I made sure to be there the next time Madison came around.

The message had been weirdly hard to write. I mean, she was my sister—we IM’d each other all the time. But I’d wanted to get the phrasing just right, so I’d sat down at my computer to make sure that I was using the exact right tone…

…and the next thing I knew almost two hours had passed, and I was still staring at a blank text field.

I’d realized I was overthinking it, of course, and quickly shot off a message mentioning that I was going to be cooking, and that she could drop by if she wanted.

Somehow, I knew she would.

Her visit must have been on my mind, because that night I had a really weird dream about it. While I was cooking, Madison was hand-feeding Aaron, like she was a harem slave.

The weirdest thing was that because she looks exactly like me—in the dream, we were even wearing identical outfits—I sometimes couldn’t tell if it was me serving Aaron or her. I mean, that’s what this competitiveness thing comes down to, right? Trying to differentiate myself from my sister.

Nope. In the dream, it could have been either of us. We were like a completely interchangable matching set.

It was almost frustrating. Even to my own subconscious, we were identical. It was like I was buying into it, or something.

I had to be better than my twin.

I ended up taking the day off work to prepare for the dinner party. I mean, ‘dinner party’. It was me, Aaron, Madison, and Mike. I hadn’t had a chance to see him much lately—cooking for Aaron every day was eating up a bunch of my time and energy—so I thought this would be a great day to kill two birds with one stone.

God, I couldn’t wait to see my sister’s face when she tried the feast I was preparing. I wanted to her to see—to know—that I was better than her.

That I was better than my twin.

I had to be better than my twin.

Just as much as I was looking forward to my sister’s face, I wanted to see Aaron’s reaction to the meal. Unlike my sister, he was actually a foodie.

Would this finally prove to him once and for all who was the better twin?

As well as that, it was a great excuse to wear one of the more revealing outfits I’d bought. It showed off so much skin, it would’ve been downright slutty if it hadn’t been a formal outfit. The touch of class saved it, y’know?

It was a black dress that had big cut-out sections for my stomach, my sides, my back, and a plunging neckline that showed off plenty of cleavage. I say ‘cut-out sections’—most of the dress was cut out, really. There was a strip of fabric connecting the bottom half to the two strips that covered my breasts, and that was it.

I knew I could get away with it because the dress covered my legs from waist to toe…a glance, anyway. There were two waist-high slits, which meant it was easy enough to show my legs off.

And after all the extra jogging I’d been doing (what’s the point of showing off your legs if you aren’t in peak physical shape?), I absolutely intended to show them off.

Most people would host a dinner-party by cooking the same meal for everyone, but I’d gone above and beyond. I’d bought a ridiculously expensive steak for Aaron, frog-legs for my sister (she’d spent like five days in Paris when she was a teenager, and would not stop going on about it), and I’d even treated myself and made my favourite dish for myself—roasted eggplant, with mushroom asiago chicken on the side. I’d first had it in Italy, a visit that had completely transformed my life (and way raised my food standards!)

I just hoped someone would ask for a bite, because I’m not gonna lie—it was amazing.

It wasn’t until a few minutes before we were due to start that I realized I’d completely forgotten to make anything for Mike. Fortunately, I knew his eating habits, so I quickly threw together something I knew he was familiar with.

Madison was the first to arrive. Despite me telling her that I had food covered, she’d brought dessert—some elaborate cake thing. I could only hope that Aaron could see through her transparent ploy. She was such a show-off.

Mike was delighted to meet my sister. I found myself rolling my eyes as he made the standard series of twin jokes that we’d heard our entire lives. As if Madison was specifically trying to get under my skin, she flirted back—something Mike clearly enjoyed.

For some reason it didn’t really bother me, which in turn I think bothered her. So, y’know. In its own small way, that was a win.

I had to be better than my twin.

But the evening didn’t really really kick off until Aaron came home. I’d totally failed to mention to anyone that it was formal dress, so Aaron and Mike were just wearing their work outfits, while I was in a dress that wouldn’t have been out of place on the red carpet.

Where I had dressed up, Madison had practically dressed down. She was wearing a pair of Daisy Dukes, and a tan bikini top, that very much showed off her…assets. Her hair was down, and she’d worn flip-flops. The end result was halfway between a slutty girl-next-door look and just plain old trailer trash.

I’d hoped that Aaron wouldn’t like it, but then he goggled at the sight of her, and I cursed myself for not going slutty.

Why hadn’t I gone slutty? Now Madison was going to get all of Aaron’s attention.

I had to be better than my twin.

Everyone said hi, a strange feeling appeared in my gut as Madison kissed my housemate on the cheek, and then it was time for the food.

For all my effort…I honestly feel like I may as well have reheated a pizza for all the attention that anyone paid to the meal. Madison spent the whole evening alternately flirting with Mike and Aaron, and worst of all…Aaron flirted back.

I mean, I guess it would’ve been worse if Mike had returned her affection, but I just couldn’t believe the audacity of my sister. I was confident that she only wanted Aaron because I lived with him. She only wanted him because he was mine.

Well, I wasn’t going to let her win. Not this time. I quickly started hitting on my housemate as well. I could tell Mike didn’t really like it, but in the moment, that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was beating my sister.

Not to be outdone, I started to escalate things, and started rubbing Aaron’s leg with my foot. Mike had no idea what was happening, thank goodness. He made a pointed comment at one point about me ignoring him, but I barely noticed—my attention was completely on Aaron, while his seemed to be on my sister’s chest.

After everyone finished eating, Mike offered to help me clear the table. As soon as were alone in the kitchen, he sort of lost his cool. He was complaining about the oatmeal I’d served him (I have no idea why—I followed the instructions on the packet perfectly), the way I’d been behaving. Apparently he’d had to say my name four times to get my attention at one point.

I was starting to get antsy, leaving Aaron alone with my sister, so I knew I had to do whatever it took to get back in there. I kissed him, apologized, and told him that I’d obviously gotten carried away, and that I’d treat him better for the rest of the meal.

To seal the deal, I moved one of his hands to my exposed leg. Sure enough, he got this sort of glassy-horny look on my face, shot me a dumb grin, and said that it was okay.

As soon as we got back into the kitchen, I served up Madison’s stupid cake. Mike started to get pissy again because I had forgotten to bring him any—I thrust my slice at him, and moved around to offer Aaron a back massage.

Look…that might not have been the most emotionally sensitive move. My almost-boyfriend ended up leaving in a huff. Part of me felt that I should follow him and make it right…but that would have left Madison and Aaron alone again, and I couldn’t do that.

I just couldn’t.

Without Mike, I was able to spend the rest of the meal openly flirting with my housemate. I’ll tell you, I was pulling out all the stops. I’ve never tried so hard with a guy before, not even one I like!

To my dismay, Madison matched me beat-for-beat. When I would laugh at one of Aaron’s inane observations; she’d practically bust a gut. I’d lean forward to show off my barely-contained tits; she would drop some cream on her breast, and slowly, laviciously lick it off.

I finally felt like I was getting the upper hand when my foot travelled all the way up Aaron’s legs, and I began massaging his bulge with my foot.

He just sat there, this smug look on his face, like he’d actually done something to deserve these two beautiful women buttering him up and hand-feeding him. I wanted to set the record straight, tell him that nope! He was just the lucky victim of two competitive sisters…but that would have been a point against me.

Anything that put Madison ahead was unacceptable. I had to be better than my twin.

The dessert that my twin had brought was okay, I guess, but from the way Aaron raved about it…Jesus.

I mean, okay, he didn’t actually say anything, but I saw the smile on his face when Madison spooned it into his mouth, and it spoke more than words would have.

After we finished eating, I started to pretty heavily hint that Madison should leave. In return, she made a snide comment about me being ‘overdressed’ (I’m pretty sure she was just jealous that she hadn’t thought of wearing a skirt. I had to admit, those jean shorts looked good on her…but you can’t underestimate the suggestiveness of clothing that offers easy access.)

Then she left, and it was just Aaron and me. He again offered to do the dishes, but I thanked him and refused.

The one weird thing about the evening (besides what a slut my sister was inexplicably being) was when Aaron winked at me on his way to bed. I really hoped he wasn’t going to get the wrong idea—it could have been super awkward if he thought that I was into him.

This was just a little friendly competition, nothing more.

While I was cleaning up, Mike tried to call me. I let it go to voicemail—I just didn’t have the mental energy to deal with his jealousy.

I knew there was no way he’d understand. It was a twin thing.

It was well after midnight by the time I got to bed, but I was still pretty wired. I’d forgotten how much my sister could wind me up—just being around her can be so stressful. I ended up masturbating a few times before I got to bed, just to relieve the tension. The evening’s events kept playing in my head while I did, over and over—at first it was really distracting, but eventually I just went with it.