The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It took me a while to process what had just happened. I stood outside my sister’s room, my mind whirring.

She’d all-but-cum when I’d thanked her for turning the lights on, but when I’d told her to tell me what color her panties were—not even show, just tell me!—Kim had suddenly found a backbone, and kicked me out of her room.

I’d assumed the tape had made her a complete submissive, ready to obey my every command...but my first instincts had been correct.

The tape was only one of three, after all.

As I was standing there, reflecting on what had happened, I heard it.

A sob. Coming from inside my sister’s room—a single, loud sob. She must have thought I’d left (I’d been standing there for at least a minute), that it was safe to let it all out.

For a moment I felt incredibly guilty. I’d made my sister cry, something that I don’t think she’d done since our father’s death.

I know I hadn’t.

For a moment I wanted to return to her room, offer her a brotherly shoulder to cry on. But even as the impulse hit me, I knew it wouldn’t happen.

Maybe that sounds awful, but...I dunno. I know myself. I know my family.

We’re not built like that.

The sob wasn’t followed by another. I pressed my ear against the door, briefly considering running to the kitchen for a glass. Does that really work, or is it only a thing in cartoons?

But I didn’t need it. Even through my sister’s unlocked door, I could hear exactly what she was saying:

“There is no greater pleasure than to please my master. I was born to serve.

“To live is to serve.”

My eyes widened as I listened to my sister repeat the entire contents of the video, word-perfect. Was she even aware she was doing it?

I had to stifle a groan at the thought. For reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand there was something incredibly hot about the idea of Kim not even knowing she was saying it. Repeating a mantra of submission, completely unaware of the words coming out of her mouth.

I listened as she finished the entire spiel, spending several minutes parroting what Kiki the geisha had ordered she say. Then, to my delight, she began again.

I left halfway through the third repetition, too worked up to listen any longer. As I came onto my stomach that night, that was the image running through my head—my sister, kneeling (somehow, I knew she was kneeling) beside her bed, mindlessly pledging her submission to her master.

Pledging her submission to me.

For the rest of the week, I experimented with what commands my sister would and wouldn’t follow. Cautiously, at first, sticking with the most mundane requests: “Open the window.” “Grab me a soda.” “Tell me what the weather’s like outside.”

But I was quickly emboldened, as each and every command was met with the same response: a flushed face. Immediate, unhesitating obedience.

And then, when I thanked her, staring directly into Kim’s eyes, a bite of the lips and a full-body shudder.

So long as it wasn’t sexual, it seemed that my sister was extremely happy to obey.

I started pushing things. Still nothing directly sexual, but...certainly the kinds of requests that no brother should make of his sister.

“Kneel beside me while I read.” “Take my shoes and socks off for me.” “Clean my flute with your tongue.”

No, that isn’t a euphemism. I’d played flute for a decade and a half, and there was something incredibly hot about the idea of watching Kim lick my (literal) instrument clean.

I think that was the instruction she’d enjoyed obeying the most—perhaps just because it had taken the longest. For almost half an hour I watched as my sister used her tongue to remove any trace of dirt or grime from my flute.

My pants grew tight as she maintained eye-contact, her entire body visibly thrumming with pleasure as she obeyed my command. When she was finally done, Kim was panting, staring me in the eyes as she kneeled in front of me and told me she was done.

“Good girl,” I responded, and for the second time, was rewarded with the sight of my sister’s orgasm. I watched as she gasped and trembled, her eyes rolling back in her head as she came, her body quaking in the aftermath.

“Th-thank you,” she finally gasped, her eyes wide as she gazed up at me.

That’s when I tried again. Something less extreme than last time, but still definitely sexual.

“Tell me how much you enjoyed that,” I ordered, my voice breathy, my tone firm.

Again, it was like a silent war was waging inside my sister. It was clear that she wanted to obey, that she wanted to do as I commanded. It was like her every pore was urging her to do it, to serve her purpose, to obey her master.

But, just as I thought there was a chance I’d succeeded, that Kim was going to describe the pleasure I’d just given her...it was like someone flipped a switch, and the sexy, submissive Kim vanished.

“No,” she said sadly, her voice steady. “That’s not...I can’t. It’s not appropriate.”

Without another word, my sister got up and left my room, her head bowed. I considered ordering her to stop, to come back, but I couldn’t find the courage. Rejection, even from your hynotized sister (perhaps especially from your hypnotized sister), stings, and I wasn’t able to subject myself to any more than I had to.

I even thought about following her, but I was pretty sure I knew what I’d hear if I did. Some tears, perhaps, but then the sound of her mantras.

She repeated them every night, sometimes for hours. When she wasn’t obeying my orders, she was in her room, on her knees, reminding herself of her purpose. Staring forward, glassy-eyed, repeating the instructions the geisha had given her.

“I will kneel before my master. I will do as he commands.”

“In life, it is the purpose of a woman to serve her master.”

I’d seen her do it. It had been easy; I’d sat on her bed, and told her to pretend I wasn’t there. Within a few minutes, she’d knelt on her floor, stared forward glassily, and begun repeating the commands. She’d continued like that for more than an hour; I’d considered pulling my dick out and jerking off, but I wasn’t sure how far the “pretend I’m not here” instruction would get me, so I’d decided not to risk it.

She might well have kept going until it was time for bed, except Mom knocked on the door, confused as to where her children were. The moment Mom’s hand hit the door, Kim stopped speaking, her face returning to the relaxed smile it’d had when I had entered the a week ago.

“Hey honey,” Mom said, blinking twice in confusion at the sight of her daughter on her knees, her son laying on his sister’s bed. I glanced at my pants; unless Mom was really looking for it, I don’t think she’d notice my erection.

And it seemed pretty unlikely that Mom would be looking for it.

“I didn’t expect to see you in here,” my mother said, her lips pursed. I don’t even think she knew what she was annoyed about.

That was Mom. If something wasn’t exactly as she’d expected, the world was at fault. She and her exact expectations were the arbiter of what was right with the universe.

“Really?” Kim asked, wrinkling her nose. Crap—I’d told her to pretend I wasn’t there, and she was apparently taking that very literally. I briefly tried to work out if I could unsuspiciously retract the command, but before I could come up with anything, Mom had moved on.

“I need your help,” she said, and no sooner were the words out of her mouth than Kim had leapt to her feet to obey. Mom threw me a watery smile and left, my sister trotting beside her, excited to help.

Excited to obey.

Having my sister breathlessly obey my every command was pretty great. The look of pleasure on her face as she obediently did whatever I said was the hottest thing I’d ever seen...and even on a practical level, doing my own chores was a thing of the past.

I’d watch as Kim cleaned my room, folded my clothes, cooked me whatever I wanted, an aura of sexual bliss surrounding her as she did.

But as soon as things got even remotely sexual, my sister would shut it down.

She’d kneel in front of me, feed me grapes, even give me a neckrub. But even suggesting she put on a bikini—something I’ve seen her do dozens of times—crossed the line. She’d briefly fight that silent fight with herself, then get up and leave, shooting me an apologetic glance as she did.

She wanted to. Some part of her did, I was certain of that.

And there was only one way to cross that final bridge: the next tape.

“Follow me,” I ordered, enjoying the way my sister’s neck went red as she did as I commanded.

She didn’t show an iota of resistance as we made our way into the attic. I pulled out the suitcase, and put the tape into the machine.

Tape #2.

My sister winced as the static began, but—just like the first time—she quickly calmed down, breathing deeply as she kneeled in front of the television.

As she’d spent so much time kneeling over the past week, kneeling in front of me.

“Hello,” the geisha said with a bow. “Welcome to the second lesson. Today, we shall learn how to use our body to please our master.”

I smiled as I watched my sister’s eyes widen, as she absorbed the tape’s words. Again, there was a hint of resistance—the same silent battle Kim had been fighting all week.

She didn’t want to serve me with her body. She didn’t want to give her brother pleasure.

But she would.

“Your body exists to serve your master,” Kiki said forcefully, as though she was somehow aware of my sister’s resistance. “You are a tool, a vessel through which your master may experience pleasure. You exist for him to use, and he may use you as he pleases. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” my sister whispered, nodding her head. The resistance was still there, but it was weaker now. She might not have liked it, but she was going to listen.

She was going to obey.

“A woman must know her place,” Kiki said, her eyes burning into my sister’s, as though she wasn’t just a recording on a screen. As though she was there, in the attic with use. “She must always remember where she belongs. Say it.”

“A woman must know her place,” my sister repeated back. “She must always remember where she belongs.”

“You must know your place,” the geisha said. “Your place is beneath your master. Your place is on your hands and knees, ready to serve. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” my sister whispered, her head bowed. She was staring at the screen like a puppy begging for a treat. I could tell she didn’t like what she was hearing, but the resistance had faded from her voice. She was ready to be trained.

“Your master is your world,” the geisha said, the tone of her voice growing more commanding. “He has the right to control you. He has the right to order you to pleasure him. Say it.”

“My master is my world,” Kim replied, her voice low and throaty. “He has the right to control me. He has the right to...to order me to pleasure him.”

“You want to pleasure him,” the geisha said, the moment my sister finished echoing her words. “To please your master is your purpose.”

“To please my master is my purpose,” my sister said again, bowing. “I wish to pleasure him.”

“You feel your body responding to his touch,” the geisha said, her voice deepening. “His fingers on your breasts. His hands on your pussy. You cannot help yourself; you want to be used. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” my sister whispered. “I want to be used.”

“You live to serve,” the geisha said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You exist to serve your master. To serve him sexually is your purpose.”

“I live to serve my master,” my sister moaned, her cheeks coloring as she did. “I exist to serve my master. To...to serve him sexually is my purpose.”

There was a note of hesitation in her voice, but she got the words out, and Kiki looked satisfied...as, I’m sure, did I.

It was working. My sister was responding to Kiki’s words, even if she didn’t like them.

“You are a tool,” Kiki said, her voice returning to normal, her gaze unwavering. “A tool for your master’s sexual pleasure. There are many ways you can please him, and you must learn them all. Say it.”

“I am a tool,” my sister repeated, her voice softening. “A tool for my master’s...my master’s sexual pleasure.”

A shiver ran through Kim’s body at the words, and I knew that it was sinking in. My sister was accepting her place. Her new role in life.

Kneeling in front of her master, using her body to bring him pleasure.

As Kiki continued speaking—and my sister continued mindlessly repeating her commands—I noticed something that I hadn’t before.

The attic had a small, round window, which let in a soft light. It was the middle of the afternoon, so the sun was shining brightly, casting a distinct shadow on the attic floor.

The same shadow was in the video. Kiki, whoever she was, had filmed the video exactly where we were standing. I glanced at the geisha outfit, still sitting where we’d left it almost two weeks earlier.

Kiki had kneeled exactly where my sister was as she’d filmed. As she’d recorded the detailed instructions on how to please a man that she was now sharing with my sister.

Any trace of resistance had now left Kim’s voice, and she was shivering in pleasure as she repeated the geisha’s words, demonstrating that she understood what she needed to do to please a man. To please her master.

To please me.

“My mouth is soft,” she intoned, and my cock twitched at the words. “And my hands are delicate, yet strong. They are tools for my master to use. I am a tool for my master’s sexual pleasure.”

“Tell him,” Kiki urged. “Tell your master why you exist.”

“I am here to serve you,” my sister gasped, her eyes wide. She was still facing the screen, but I knew her words were directed to me. “I am here to please you.”

“He owns you,” the geisha said, her voice husky. “You exist because he wishes it. Because it brings him pleasure.”

“I am owned by my master,” my sister repeated. “I exist because he wishes it. Because it brings him pleasure.”

I couldn’t wait for the tape to end. I wanted nothing more than to see my sister naked. I’d never seen a woman without her clothes on, never touched a girl’s bare skin skin. But seeing Kim kneeling in front of me, her hair flowing down her back, her nipples hard through her tight tank top...

“You will give your master pleasure,” the geisha ordered. “You will serve him with your body. You will do anything he asks of you, and you will enjoy it.”

“Anything he asks of me,” my sister gasped, staring at the TV.

“This is the way of the geisha, and you are geisha.”

“I am geisha,” Kim said. “I will give my master pleasure. I will serve him with my body. I will do anything he asks of me.”

“And you will enjoy it,” I muttered, and my sister’s eyes widened. She continued staring at the small screen, but she repeated my words.

“And I will enjoy it.”

The voice faded, and the screen went black. For the next minute, the only thing that could be heard was the hum of the screen and the heavy breathing of my sister and I.

Finally, I broke the silence.

“Kim,” I said, trying to sound confident. Authoritative.

Masterly.

I stared at my sister’s tits, her nipples erect through the thin fabric of her shirt, her beautiful skin flushed.

Her shorts were wet, I realized.

She was aroused.

She was excited by what had just happened. By what was about to happen.

“Kim,” I repeated. “T-take your clothes off. Now.

“That’s an order.”

My sister’s eyes widened as she absorbed my instructions. For a moment, I thought it was going to be a repeat of the last week. That Kim was going to silently struggle, then refuse to obey my command. That she’d march downstairs, and I wouldn’t see her again for hours.

But instead, she shivered in pleasure, and nodded.

My sister nodded, and slowly began to undress.

I stared, agog, as she pulled her tank top up, revealing her breasts. They were perfect: small and perky, no more than a handful each. Her nipples were brown and hard, and she let her top fall to the floor, leaving her naked from the waist up.

She stood up and unclasped her shorts and slid them down her legs, kicking them aside. She stepped out of them, and kicked them away.

My sister stood in front of me, wearing nothing but a pale blue pair of panties. I allowed my eyes to feast on her body, taking in her smooth skin, the flatness of her stomach, the firmness of her ass.

She was lovely.

“Turn around,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Show me your rear.”

My sister’s fingers were hooked into her panties, ready to take them down, but with a shiver of pleasure, she obeyed.

She turned around, turning her back to me, bending over as she began lowering her panties.

My cock was rock-hard as the delicate curves of her ass came into view, her pert little tush revealed as she lowered her underwear. I groaned in pleasure as my sister stood naked in front of me, her full, round ass on display.

“Put your hands behind your back,” I ordered, and Kim did as she was told. I gripped her waist and turned her around, my eyes flicking down to the patch of fuzz between her legs.

Fuck. My sister’s pussy. Like forbidden fruit, I knew I shouldn’t be seeing this, shouldn’t be enjoying it. No brother should ever see his sister like this—exposed. Naked.

Wet.

My sister’s musk filled the air, much as it had when we’d last been here. When she’d cum at being told she was a good girl.

“Kneel,” I commanded, and my sister complied, lowering herself to her knees. She stared at my crotch, waiting for further instructions, her eyes growing wider as I lowered my pants.

As my erection came into view.

My cock sprang free, my balls hanging low, my skin slick with pre-cum, my swollen head glistening with a bead of fluid.

I wanted her to suck it, of course. Or jerk me off. I wanted to feel Kim’s obedient mouth on my erection, her hands getting me off.

But even though I knew she would, even though I knew she was mine to command, something held me back. Maybe it was fear, or guilt, but I held back from taking that next step. From giving my sister the order that I knew my sister would obey.

Instead, I wrapped one fist around my erection and began to pump. I stroked my dick, watching my sister stare lustfully at my hand moving over my shaft. At the look of longing in her face.

She wanted to be the one pleasuring me. The tape had told her: it was her purpose. It was why she existed. To serve me. To serve her brother. Her master.

I pumped faster, my balls tightening, the pressure building in my shaft.

My sister watched, mesmerized, her eyes glued to my hand. She was so aroused, so desperate to serve me, that she was panting heavily. Her eyes widened as I let out a long groan; I’d never been in such an erotic situation in my life. My sister kneeling in front of me, naked, watching with desire as I jerked off.

In a few minutes, I was trembling. And in another minute, I was moaning and grunting as my orgasm began.

As I came, I looked at Kim, watching with hunger in her eyes. Her hunger was soon rewarded, as I shot my load onto her—onto my older sister’s bare body, her face, her tiny tits, her flat stomach.

I kept pumping my cock until there was nothing left, until my sister was covered in my seed. As soon as my orgasm subsided, Kim’s began: she moaned loudly, and her body shook as she climaxed.

The intensity of her orgasm made my sticky liquid drip down to her bare thighs; when she finished, her entire body was dripping with my load.

Just as she had two weeks ago, her face went blank. Last time, she’d been dressed in a tank top and shorts.

This time, she was naked, covered only by her brother’s semen. Her eyes opened, widened, looked at me in reverence and fear.

“What...what happened?” she asked, her voice shaking. As she spoke, some of my cum dripped into her mouth; her tongue darted out excitedly, ready to swallow it down.

Perhaps I should have been afraid. Kim had just woken up from a trance, to the sight of her brother’s cock and a pile of her clothes. Covered in cum—warm cum which had clearly come from my softening cock.

But I wasn’t worried.

I was in charge.