The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Mmmghmm!” Mom gaged over my prick shoved deep in her mouth. “Mmmgughmmm.”

“What’s that Mom?” I asked with a grin.

“Mm! Mmugmmm.” She responded, looking up at me from the floor, through my mass of pubic hair.

“Oh, wait.” I stepped back and plopped my erection out from between her plump red lips.

My mother stayed on her knees and quietly slapped her lips together, trying to gather up any lasting droplets of semen leftover. “That cream you made...” She let out a loud moan of arousal and slicked up a wet strand of pubic hair from the corner of her lips. “It’s something else, honey! I love it! But I think you’re all out...” She pouted.

This is really something else, alright. My mind is still trying to come to grips with it myself. Let me remind you, my mother is a brilliant woman. She went through medical school for over eight years, she graduated at the top of her class, and achieved a high paying and highly respected job to show off it. Both of her daughters are hugely successful; one is a police officer who is seeking to improve more and become a detective. The other daughter is scoring at the top of her class, just as her mother did, and is looking to have a bright future. Both daughters are where they are only because their mother pushed and guided them in the best way she knew how.

And now, look at her, she kneeling on the kitchen floor she owns, below her adopted son with dried semen tainting her luscious red lips. She genuinely believes that her son’s cum is cream, and with all of her intellect and morals, she is unable to realize that she is losing everything to her perverted son. She can’t even see the massive cock inches from her face! But she can smell it; she definitely can, especially since I’m dragging it all across her face, and making sure to press my shaft hard against her nostrils.

“Life is good.”

Saturday — Day 12

“Oh, this is bullshit!” Zoey blurted in exasperation and sent a game piece soring across the room, creating a thunk wherever it landed

A wide grin formed on Hunter’s face as he leaned back in his chair, sitting across from his redheaded girlfriend. “Bla Bla Bla! My name’s Zoey, and I suck at chess!”

“My names, Hunter!” Zoey shot back in her own mocking tone. “And I can’t make good eggs if I were paid!”

“Oh! I see now,” Hunter crossed two arms behind his neck. “You’re trying to change the subject because you don’t wanna admit defeat.”

“No, I’ll admit that I lost. I lost in a game that is complete ass!”

Hunter hastily covered his gaping mouth and mocked a gasp. “You take that back!”

“Not happening.” She crossed her arms below her chest. “Besides, chess is just a worse version of checkers in every conceivable way.”

“You’re just a worse version of checkers!”

“That... That comeback doesn’t even make sense!”

“Yeah, you’re right...”

Zoey flicked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And with that.” She leaned forward and stood up from her position on the apartment floor. “I’m off to run some errands.”

“Woah Woah Woah!” Hunter stopped his girlfriend’s movement by gripping the fabric of her loose summer trousers. “You see our positions?” He turned to her and causally bounced his brows.

“What?” Zoey tilted her head and looked down from his palm on her pants to his jubilant face.

In answer, Hunter continued to wobble his eyebrows in place and lightly bit his bottom lip.

“What are you...” Zoey’s confusion was forcefully shoved away as the realization hit her cold and hard. “Oahhh! Haha! No.”

“Our positions... Need to switch...” His voice oozed with a cheeky connotation.

“Really?” Zoey stayed in place but moved her arms to her hips.

“Really.”

“I’m not giving you a blowjob.”

“Come on, babe! Don’t do this to me! What about our deal!?”

“Your deal...”

“You agreed!” Hunter gestured to the chessboard left on the table. “That’s why we played!”

“Well, I don’t know about you.” Zoey said, “But I played because I wanted to hang out with my boyfriend.”

“And I played because I wanted a blowjob from my girlfriend!”

“W..Wow...”

“Can you blame me?”

“Uh... Yeah! I can!” She cocked her hip. “And I will.”

“It’s not my fault; you did agree... So..” Hunter mumbled to himself.

“I never agreed. You brought it up, and I specifically said no!” Zoey brought a palm to her face and began rubbing her eyes for a few drawn-out seconds. “What even was the deal? It was something retarded like... If you won, I’d give you a blowjob, and if I beat you, you’d give me one...”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah, I... I dont even understand how that would work! You’re dumb! That’s dumb. I did not agree to that.” She pulled her bottom out from Hunter’s grip and began walking to the kitchen.

Hunter sighed to himself. “I guess I’m getting blue-balled again... I wasn’t serious by the way; I know you’re not into giving head and shit.”

Zoey thought to herself upon reaching for the overhead keys resting on top of the door frame. “You know what? Tonight, we’ll have some fun.” She turned around and winked.”

“You sure? I mean, I don’t want you to force yourself to...”

“Nah! We haven’t had some time to cuddle in a while.” She obtained the keyring, and idly spun it around her index finger. “So be ready, we’re gonna be staying up late tonight!”

“But no blowjobs?”

“No blowjobs.”

Sunday, for most productive members of society, is commonly considered to be the day of rest. After a burdensome week’s worth of work, delegating twenty-four hours to do absolutely nothing is just what the average joe requires. It’s the perfect amount of time for one to enjoy themselves, with ample wiggle room to prepare for the following week. Honestly, the importance of Sunday goes without saying.

Now with all that being said. I must inform you that, contrary to popular belief, I am not a productive member of society. Snif... Sniff... As much as I wish I were... So all of that shit about Sunday goes out the window for me. Besides, it’s not even Sunday yet, so I’m not even sure of why I brought that up in the first place.

I tend to spend my Saturdays in the same way most hard-working individuals would spend their Sundays. Laying around, doing... Nothing! And this week? Well, I’m not the type to change tradition. If I spent all my other weekends doing nothing, why would today be any different!? Magic 8-ball be dammed, am I lazy ass slouch.

Mom may attempt to get me off my ass, but if she so much as tries to flex her authority, I’ll wham her with a Sub-trigger with enough intense speed to break the sound barrier.

Honestly, at this point, I can’t imagine anything ruining my Saturday plans. Or, should I say... My lack of a plan.

Knock Knock

“Huh?” My head sprang up from the comforting embrace of the pillow I was resting on. Now, who could that be? Mom wouldn’t give two shits; she usually barges into my room so frequently that I’ve grown to become accustomed to it. I guess it could be Mia, but...

Before I could formulate a thought, my bedroom door was pushed, on its hinges, with a swift motion.

“Rise and shine, little man.”

“Dad?”

Fuck.

That ain’t good.

Not the fact that he barged into my room, actually, on the contrary, I gotta respect that he at least bothered to knock. It shows that he has some semblance of decency towards privacy. Honestly, I don’t really have that much against my dad; sure he does prefer his daughters over me; now if that’s because I’m adopted, or if fathers are more naturally inclined to be attached to their daughters. I’ll never know. But I rarely ever find myself pissed off with him in the same way I do with Mom and Mia on the regular.

Who knows, that might mainly be because he’s out most of the day, and when he returns home, I barely have a chance to talk to him. I guess he trusts that his wife will be able to keep his kids in check and prevent the house from spontaneously combusting in his absence.

But when I said, ‘Fuck, that ain’t good.’ I referred to the fact that I haven’t spoken to my father in nearly a week. This, because he is half the reason I’m not living out on the street, isn’t a good thing in hindsight. It’s as if my life is some straight erotic fiction story, and thus the father in the story doesn’t receive much screen time. In most of those cases, however, the dad is either a dead beat or just dead; which in my case, my father is still alive and is currently paying for the house I’m sleeping in at the moment.

“It’s a nice Saturday, and the day is young!” My dad leaned against the door frame, “I think you know what that means.”

In my have asleep/dead state, it took me a few trickling moments for my brain to catch up with the words that slipped through my ear canal, “Oh no...”

“Look, someone has to do it.”

“No....” I pleaded. “Mia?”

My father idly stretched his ear. “I’ll have Mia do it next time, alright?”

“But...”

“Ryan, I work forty hours a week. This is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

“But...”

“I have a business meeting to attend to, but when I come back...”

“Yeah yeah, the grass better be cut...”

“Thaaaats the spirit!”

Sigh

I rested an arm against the lawnmower as I looked onwards over the broad expanse that is the front yard. One of the notable downsides of occupying a large house, someone has the keep the shit presentable. Why don’t we pay someone to do the dirty work? Don’t ask me! My parents see it as a way to instill responsibility in their children or some shit. Even though we could easily afford to pay some shmuck to put in the effort, no one else wants to.

Am I a lazy bitch?

Yes.

Truthfully, I would more than gladly attempt to use the cleaning trigger on Mom. Make up some bullshit that I would like her to tidy up the front lawn; or even better! I could have Mom reassign my chore onto Mia through one of the passive-triggers I attained!

The only problem that plan being, Dad. I can’t risk him figuring out that his family is slowly bending to my lazy/perverted will. If he realized I got out of my chore because Mom forced Mia to do it in my place, he’d definitely confront his wife. Mom would never, in her own right mind, let that slide, and he might end up realizing something’s not right.

Also, something happened with Mia; she’s not... Herself. At least, she wasn’t yesterday. And whether I like it or not, being a nicer older brother would help significantly in the long run when it comes to whamming her with triggers. Making her cut the grass at my expense wouldn’t necessarily be helping me on that mission.

“Remember to do the back as well!” I heard my dad call out as he backed out of the driveway. “And stop acting like this is the end of the world.” The audible crunching of rocks could be heard as he turned the car out onto the road.

Ah, well, I can’t really get out of this one, can I? Looking out from the garage unto hot open field before me, with the heat sticking into the warm air; I can more or less see the burning waves of heat bouncing off the overgrown weeds. “Oh, boi... This is unfortunate...” I stood in the uncomfortable shade, looking onwards to the task at hand for who knows how long. A simple sigh broke me out of my elongated trance, and begrudgingly began to push the lawnmower outside. “But! There comes a time in everyman’s life where...”

“Do you talk to yourself that often?”

“Whut!” I inadvertently jumped out from my internal trance.

“What you were just doing.” Turning around in an entire one-eighty, I spotted Zoey addressing me as she walked up the driveway.

“Whuh... What are you doing!?” I fumbled for words to formulate, and eventually halted on mimicking her own statement.

“Hmmm...” My redheaded sister pondered in mock interest with a slender finger tapping her chin, “I am bringing this vacuum cleaner back to its rightful owner.” She bumped the machine, that I just now noticed, with her curvy hip. “And I happened to find my favorite little bro talking to himself.”

“I wass! You... were.. Eh..” My mouth ran on autopilot while my brain was momentary out of commission. “I was not talking to myself!”

“Uhh... No need to deny it! I think it’s cute! Though,” She added. “You might want to stop doing that; some girls just find it weird.”

“I wasn’t!” I asserted. “I was just...”

“Well, clearly, you were psyching yourself up for the coming battle.” Zoey rested her arms on her hips and cocked her head. “And what a battle! The amount of land on this lot is unsurprisingly large. Good fucking luck! Oh!” She closed the distance between us in a sudden motion; her voice became lowered as she brought her face down to my eye level. “Don’t tell Mom I said that... She’ll bring out the soap!” Zoey shuddered in an overdramatic manner before noticing my expression and tilting her head. “What’s up, bro? I’m just messing with you.”

Now I was... Well, no. Am, a sweating mess. And not just because I was standing out in the beating sun, slowly allowing the moister to seep out from my ill-prepared body. No, it was my attractive sister’s sudden appearance that put me on edge. The mere way she’s maneuvering her supple body in such a careless manner.

FUUUCK!

It’s a hot day. I’m pretty sure that was made clear by now. So both of us are currently in a set of clothing to match the present weather. For me, that’s a generic blue T-Shirt, with black sweatpants. And as for Zoey, she’s wearing a fucking green V-Neck tanktop. Luckily, or unluckily depending on what side of the coin you’re on, there were buttons along the deep neck that would have revealed a tremendous valley of cleavage if it weren’t closed up; say for the top three which were left undone, allowing an unblocked view directly towards her exposed breasts.

And that fucking cleavage is what got me. Zoey, why! Why couldn’t you have fucking buttoned that shit up all the way!? Why?????!! I mean, I can understand why it’s hot as hell out; I imagine her chest would have gotten reasonable sweaty if she didn’t let some of her package loose. But still! I’m a teenager! She’s attractive! And I haven’t even jacked off yet, so I’m pent up as shit. I love Zoey more than anything, but I would have given anything for her not to be here right now!

When she leaned forward to look me in the eye, I was given a chance to stare directly down her top; right at the darkness between her breasts, even being able to see part of her toned chest hidden beneath her shirt. At least, I could see all that shit through the corner of my vision because I was forced to look her straight in the eye, which might have been the toughest test of sheer willpower I’ve had in multiple months. Just the blatant urge to ignore any morals and bashfully ogle my sister’s blessed package was egging me to look downwards. But, as much as I wanted too. I couldn’t, the deep feeling of emptiness I would feel if she realized how much of a depraved pervert I was... I mean, am... It wouldn’t be worth it.

I’d lose a supportive sister, for what? A quick glims at cleavage? Please! Not worth it. It doesn’t matter if the beating sun caused sweat to form on her chest, tricking between each breast, creating moisture on the roundness of her bust, which in turn made the sun’s brightness refect of her beautiful bust.

That’s nothing!

Heh, heh... Shit...

Stop perving on her, Ryan; she’s the only person in your life who truly cares about you. Don’t lose that bond over your perverted urges. Besides! If I pretend that I’m not becoming sexually heated by my sister’s simple actions, she’d be more comfortable around me; which would, in turn, give me more chances to see her in even more casual clothing!

“Oh, shit...” I jumped as the back of her hand pressed against my forehead. “Dude, you’re hot. I mean, the sun is blazing, but still, try not to stay too long, kay?”

“Yeah, I’ll try...” I gulped, seeing her care about me as I uncaring perved on her made my heart sink.

She stepped away and undid two more of the buttons on her top. My eyes wouldn’t bulge at the sight of her standing in front of me in a veep V-Neck, with only one button preventing her from showing off all she’s got; because if my eyes did do that, It would have been blatantly obvious that I was ogling my older sister. But it didn’t help my case once she rose a hand up to her deep collar and began pulling it in and out to channel air; flashing me with multiple glimpses of a black lace bra containing her tits.

I want to feel aroused, and it’s no shit that I do! But goddam, I haven’t felt this excited and ashamed at the same time in quite a while. Seeing Zoey act so comfortable around me, casually displaying cleavage, opening fanning her tits; she would never do this in front of random strangers. But I’m not some random stranger; I’m the brother that grew up with her in the same household. She feels comfortable around me, just as I feel comfortable around her. That’s how we should feel, at least! I feel comfortable as hell whenever she’s around; nothing can happen to me under her protective eye. But she’s lending me this amount of trust, and I’m backstabbing her by getting aroused by the simplest actions behind her back.

Dear god.

I’m a horrible brother!

“I am sweating like a beast, man,” Zoey said, oblivious to my internal struggle, as she continued to fan herself and flash me simultaneously.

“Yeah? I feel that.” I crossed my legs together in an attempt to conceal my hardening member.

“Why don’t you take off your shirt?”

“Why don’t you?!” I shot back without even thinking. It took me a few seconds to realize what my mouth said.

Zoey cocked her brow, with a slight smile forming on her lips. “Oh yeah?”

“Uh..” I began to fumble for something to explain my outburst.

“I’ll do it!” She challenged, her hands dropping down to the bottom of her top. “Don’t test me!” She added as she rose the fabric of her stomach, revealing more and more of her fit from as she rose the clothing upwards. She only halted her movements the moment she reached the bottom of her lace bra. My jaw slacked as my eyes laid on Zoey’s underboob, the bra doing its job in containing her hefty breasts; oh what I would kill to weigh those tits myself.

I stared in disbelief as if I were watching a porno in realtime. Mainly because this ain’t my doing, the 8-ball hasn’t touched her mind; this is all Zoey, which makes the situation that much hotter.

“You want me to keep going? I don’t care if you see me like this, but do you want me to take it off in public? Because I will!”

Of course, I want her to keep going, take it all off! Is not what I said; for all I know this is a fucking test, a test I’m clearly failing at. “N.. No! Put your shirt back on!” I let out through my struggling reluctance.

“Oh, so now you don’t?” Zoey chides while released her top, allowing it to slide back down to cover her toned midriff. “Don’t talk the talk if you ain’t gonna commit to the walk!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect you too...” I had to stifle a choke, noticing that her shirt is now on incorrectly, she maneuvered it to be a bit far to her left; revealing the leftmost part of her bra and strap hanging from her smooth shoulder. “I need to cut the grass!” I half-shouted and turned to face away before she could have the chance to object.

If I stayed any longer, my hardon would be obviously apparent and humiliating beyond belief; removing that shirt of hers was definitely a minor joker on her part, but for me, it was pure fetish fuel in it’s most potent form. It doesn’t help that I know I could have her. I could run up to my room right now and write down her name; in a week’s time, she would be on her knees in front of me. All of that perfect, womanly body would be mine to ogle, maneuver, and do with as I please! She could be on her knees, with her pillowy red lips wrapped around my cock, just like Mom yesterday. Or she could unabashedly pose and adjust her perfect body for my please alone, in the same vane as Mia. Perhaps she’d do something new, maybe walk around in a maid’s costume, bending down by the waist at any given opportunity, flashing any would-be passerby with her panties each time.

“Okay then, have fun I guess!” I heard Zoey’s voice slice into my thoughts, and I turned to glance at her.

My eyes watched her capturing towards the front door, her curvy hips idly swaying and shifting with each step as her legs propelled her forwards. “No!” I turned away and chastised myself. “Stop it! Stop it! No wonder I barely have anyone in my life who cares about me...” I reached down to grab the lawnmower’s power cable. “Because this is how I teat the few people that do...” I promised myself days ago that I would not mess with her, anyone else is fair game, bot Zoey will be safe! She deserves to be after all, hell, I couldn’t begin to count the times she kept me safe. But that might be because I lack the cognitive function to count higher than the number six.

But it doesn’t matter!

Just forget about her muscle bounded hips and smooth legs.

Forget the lowcut top and sweat sprinkled between her tits; forget the way the sun cast shadows across her bosom in the perfect places.

Just forget about all that...

And cut the fucking grass! That’ll make me forget!

Gripping the cable, I wrap my hands around it and give it a hard yank.

Nothing.

I did it again.

Nothing.

I did it again..

Nothing..

I did it again...

Nothing...

I did it again....

Nothing....

I did it again.....

Nothing.....

“Okay, maybe this isn’t working...”

It took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize the machine was out of gas, which ended up to be the perfect set of events. Since as I was in the garage searching for Dad’s spare gas canister. I spotted something particular sticking out from an open tool case. With, after closer inspection, I was pleased to find a white card laying gently between a wrench and a screwdriver.

“Well, what do we have here?”

‘Operating a tool takes skill and determination, and a good mother will always help without hesitation.’

“Looks like I might have fun with Mom today after all! Ya’know... After I cut the grass.”

Rushing upstairs, I quickly deposit the card in my bedroom with my current collection of triggers. I used to hide them in some box under my bed. But once I realized that everyone is oblivious to what’s on the cards themselves, due to some 8-ball magic or whatever, I’ve been leaving them lying on my desk without caring if anyone finds them.

With all the times, Mom busts into my room, with or without me knowing; I find it ironic that she must’ve spotted the cards multiple times by now. She has probably looked directly at the very things that are causing her authority to spiral out of control without even realizing it.

After re-reading the card for one last time, trying to imagine what it does and how to use it, I let it drop onto my table and turn to head back out to the hot sun; better to just get this shit over with and enjoy my weekend later.

Well, Ryan’s acting strange, Zoey thought to herself. Every time she’s in his general vicinity, he acts as if she caught him hand deep in the toilet normal. Which, fun fact, actually did happen when he was four. That little idiot was crying for hours because he couldn’t figure out how the toilet functioned. But let’s not digress. His recent behavior has been yards out of the ordinary that, on such a consistent basis, that... if anything...

It’s starting to become normal.

She wasn’t surprised in the slightest when Ryan began to shudder in ways akin to her guilty convicts in past investigations, the fact that he’s hiding something is apparent to the point that even he realizes he’s exposing himself. He shooed her away, just as the sweat of guilt began to protrude through his pores. Or, perhaps that was the suns blazing heat. It has been abnormally warm recently, so many she could give him the benefit of the doubt; no sain person would want to have a conversation in that weather.

This is why having a conversation with her mother is much more preferable than the one with her brother. Truthfully, the A.C a significant factor in whether or not a conversation is worth having.

Zoey’s original plan was to drop the vacuum cleaner off and bounce, but she soon found herself dragged into a discussion with her mother. Stuff like that tends to occur often when a family member goes off to live on their own; when they finally do decide to revisit, they better be prepared to sit and talk. Luckily for Zoey, she’s always prepared.

The conversation was nice enough; she always did get along with the rest of her family. Of course, there were still the occasional spats, but compared to her siblings, it happened much less often. And apparently she just missed her father, so she’ll have to come back some other time to catch up with her other parent.

Zoey was conversing with her mother when she heard the faint sound of shuffling from outside her parents’ bedroom. “Was that...” Zoey lowered her voice to listen. “Mia?”

“Hmm? I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure Ryan should be outside dealing with the lawn right now.” Her mother was reclining on a lounge chair located in the corner of her room. Apparently, after her stressfully long shift yesterday, she’s willing to do nothing during the weekend. Which is something Zoey would be down to do herself; unfortunately, she has to work on Sunday, and there Isn’t much she can do on that front.

“Well, I don’t hear the mower running soo...” Zoey added her two sense.

Her mother sighed in such a way to convey that she’s not surprised about her son’s behavior. “Yes, well. I’m honestly not sure what he’s doing.”

Zoey thought back on Ryan; she hasn’t forgotten her plan to investigate his current behavior. But she’s finding it difficult to set time away from her job to do some proper research without him being aware. She’d have to find a time when he’s not around so she could do some legitimate snooping; he’s more than likely hiding some form of drugs from her. And Zoey has had enough experience with ignorant teens that she’s pretty sure she could find his stash in considerable time; especially if her dog with her.

That’s the moment it occurred to her that this would be the perfect opportunity to see what she could find, while Ryan was out on the lawn, she wouldn’t have to worry about him stumbling into her. The only obstacle stopping her was the lack of an audible hum, confirming the fact that he wasn’t...

Brmmm! Brummm! Vrrrrrumm!

Well shit, that’s her cue.

“Uh... Mom? Could I use the bathroom real quick?” Zoey asked as she stood up without waiting for her mother’s response.

Well, that was fast! I pushed the button to close the garage door in satisfaction. I’m hot, sweaty and smell like grass and shit. But I feel satisfied as hell! I dominated that yard like a real fucking champion. And now it’s time for a champions meal!

You know what that means.

“Mooooooom!” I shouted the moment I stepped into the house, the relaxing wave of cold air welcoming in with open arms. “I want a fucks worth of soda and massive pepperoni pizza stat! I’m exhausted as shit!”

“Hey, can you shut up!?” Mia complained from the kitchen table, with a school book in her hand. “I’m trying to focus! And why are you acting like Mom’s just gonna treat you to whatever you want just because you cut the grass? Grow up.” She was sitting in a simple yellow blouse that pleasingly clutched her curves, revealing the outline of her bra underneath fairy well. I was even able to notice she’s wearing a black and white skirt from my position outside the kitchen.

“Well, it looks like someone’s back to normal.” I spit back, “Do you see how much work I did!? Look at me!”

“Yeah, you’re sweating like a pig, and smell like one too! Take a shower.” She switched her eyes back to her, took and disregarded me.

Well, I miss the upbeat sister I had during our photoshoot last night. So you know what...

“You know Mia, with the shit mood you’re in, I can tell you’re upset,” I said with a smirk. “Do you need some more help taking the perfect selfie?”

“Uh...” Mia started, and I heard the sound of her book slamming against the table as she released its weight. “Of course!”

“Really? I’m not sure...” I mock hesitance. “You seemed a bit..”

“No, no, no!” She was quick to sense my attitude and was soon enough, clutching my arm against her soft chest, sinking my arm between her comfortable titties. “I’m so sorry, bro! Please help me! Please! You take the best photos” Well, I do pride myself on my abilities to lust after the female form.

“You know what...” I continued my charade. “I’ll think about it... I need to be sure you’re willing; don’t want to waste time, you understand, right?”

“Of course!” She nodded and clutched my arm tighter. Looking up at me with the most adorable eyes ever, I found myself genuinely falling in love with the doting side of my usually bitchy little sister. She can be so fucking cute when she tries; this must be how Zoey sees me. I just can’t shake away the feeling that I want to keep this precious thing safe. “What can I do for you,” Her voice was etched with charm, “I’ll do anything!”

“Alright,” I grinned. “I want you to go to that table and spread your legs.”

“Like this?” Mia was quick to follow my orders. So fast, I wasn’t given time to lament how baren my arm felt without my sister’s warm chest to keep it company.

“Almost! But turn around and lift your skirt!” My boner began to stiffen as Mia followed my every command. As if her body existed to please her brother’s every urge. “Yes! Now jut your ass out in my direction.”

I wondered. “Call me, master when we’re doing photoshoot... And pretend this is practice for the real deal.”

“Oh...” I saw her tilt her head. Or I think she did; honestly, I was too distracted by her bubbly yet petite ass.

“Shake your butt in my direction, and don’t stop!” I added before she had a chance to question my previous order.

“Sure thing... Master!”

Mia called me master... My cock twitched.

“Remember, this is a test! A test to see how dedicated you are to these photoshoots. If I come back and your ass isn’t shaking, consider my kindness gone. Forever!”

I noticed her body shudder for the slightest of moments, at thhe sound of my words. “Of course! Master!” Her ass continued to sway in the air; it was a bit hypnotic, really. I could watch her do that all day. The look of her pink panties straining against her extending butt, I could almost make out the outline of her pussy hidden beneath!

I definitely would have continued staring if my growling stomach didn’t snap me out of my perverted trance. “Alright! I’ll be back!” I said as I turned to find Mom. I’m getting my fucking pizza. And now, because of Mia, I’m going to be treated to a show while I eat!

Life couldn’t get any better than this!

But before confronting Mom, I entered my bedroom; I was prepared to knock over two birds with one stone. Use the food Sub-trigger on Mom. Test out this new Sub-Trigger I obtained. AND! Get a realtime erotic show from Mia!

After being out in the sun for so long, I deserved this.

“Hey, Ball!” I called out as I entered my room. “I bet you didn’t expect me to find that trigger you hid in the toolbox didncha?! Well, look here! I...” Shooting for my collection of triggers, it took me no more than a second to realize one’s missing. “The fuck!?” I metaphorically flipped my entire desk over in search for it. “Where did it....”

Turning my gaze to the 8-ball, laying gently on my desk, I questioned it.

“Ball!”

Nothing...

“You were here all day, where the fuck did it go!?”

‘Eh?’ Was the faint response I heard resonate from the ball’s general location.

“Where did...”

‘Oh yeah, your sister stole it.’

“What!”

..

..

..

Nothing...

“You can’t just say that and not explain yourself!”

Nothing...

“Dude!”

Nothing...

Okay!

The 8-ball must’ve been in a bad mood, but whatever, it’ll probably pass.

So, change of plans! I don’t need the card anyway; I memorized the shit out of that shit! Something about cleaning a tool. And being this far into the game, I have a vague idea of what the trigger entails.

When I reached my parent’s bedroom, I was halted for a second once I hit their door. It was closed. Now, a week ago, that would’ve caused me to falter and wait for her to come out. But today, I didn’t have enough respect to do that shit. Also, I was hungry; we’re not ourselves when we’re hungry.

So yes, I busted open that door like a mother fucker.

Which... Might’ve been a mistake on my part.

Why? Might you ask?

Because she was as naked as the day she was born!

That’s why.