The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“You mind if I use your credit card?”

I held my breath when my sister gave me a strange glance, then breathed a silent sigh of relief when she handed it over without even questioning what I wanted it for.

Quite the feat, considering the obsession with money that I’d given her. Although I guess expenditure is part of making money. Not for the first time, I wondered if I should do some kind of online business course; my sister was raking in serious dough by this point, and I was sure we could be managing it better.

Ashley watched as I typed in the digits. She didn’t blink an eye as I spent one hundred of her hard-earned dollars to buy two thousand credits (the more you buy, the bigger the discount).

But when she saw what I was spending them on…

I swear, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her pupils turn into actual dollar signs.

“Is that what they’re always talking about?”

Over the past few months, we’d watched a bunch of camgirls. No, more than a bunch. What’s the collective noun for camgirls? A cumshow? A Hitachi?

We’d watched a tease of camgirls together. Hundreds, if not thousands. But there was one aspect of the business that we’d never actually gotten around to discussing.

The free camming sites (where the girls make the majority of their money) only have a few rules, but one of them is simply ‘no guys’. You can’t be a camguy, you can’t get your boyfriend on to spank you, you can’t make love to a real-life penis.

No guys. Simple as that.

I’ve never looked into why (I’ve never been curious enough to) but I’m guessing it makes them technically not pornography? Something like that?

You can have multiple people on the channel, so long as they’re all ladies.

Getting my sister to invite another popular camgirl onto her show was certainly tempting—I would have paid good money to watch her fuck another hottie, and I’m sure a lot of her audience felt the same way—but getting someone else in felt like it would just be opening the door to a world of trouble.

If nothing else, I’m certain they wouldn’t be cool with Ashley’s kid brother in the room, watching as they performed.

Maybe I could get Ashley invited onto someone else’s channel; have her go around to their house, fool around on-camera for the world to see…

It was tempting, and Exclusivity With Sexual Partners was no longer a priority for me, but it wouldn’t get me any closer to my goal. I wanted to fuck my sister. I wanted my sister to be my personal sex slave, at my beck and call twenty-four hours a day, those huge tits at my command. That was my priority.

And I had a plan.

See, while the actual camgirl sites won’t let you have a guy on, there’s a loophole of sorts. These sites will let you sell videos for credits.

The videos can be anything. They can just be a solo show (like the standard cam fare), they can be a girl/girl show…or they can involve a guy.

And so Ashley watched as I clicked through to one of our favorite camgirl’s pages (I made sure to pick one that looked nothing like her, to avoid any potential discomfort), tipped her five hundred credits, and bought a video.

Five hundred credits for a Hitachi show video. Something that the model did, for free, several times a week. Twenty-five dollars for something that I could watch anytime she was online.

You’re paying for the convenience, I guess—you don’t have to try to work out how to record the model’s screen, you don’t have the jangling of tips interrupting the flow, you might get more camerawork than just a single static shot.

But ultimately, I was paying for something that the model was already doing. Money in the bank.

Ashley turned to me with a smile.

“How do we start?”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

Now that I’d seen my sister masturbate off-camera a few dozen times, it was increasingly obvious which parts were performative, and which parts were genuine.

The way her eyes fluttered? That was real. The flush was real, of course; my sister is an okay actress, but nowhere near good enough to fake that.

Her loud moans and pants you might have guessed were real, but nope. When she’s getting herself off just for fun, she maybe whimpers a little. That’s what I’d heard, that first night I listened to her get off through the bedroom door. Small, sexy whimpers; no loud, rhythmic screams.

Makes sense. If you’re always shouting like that when you jerk off, you’re basically advertising to the world that hey, you’re cumming. It’s hard to be discreet.

Not that discretion was a priority for my sister any more.

I’d made sure of that.

I moved the camera in, until her pink slit was filling the frame.

Her face no longer on-camera, Ashley looked at me inquiringly.

All good? she mouthed, and I nodded.

She winked, smiled, and continued moaning loudly.

A few minutes later, my sister was cumming, her thighs twitching over and over again as she pressed the toy against her clit. (The twitches? Genuine.) I pulled back. She smiled at the camera, winked, and blew it a kiss.

“Cut,” I said, and Ashley squealed with delight.

My sister’s exhibitionism shows itself in weird forms. Like, she shows off her climaxing form to an ever-growing audience almost every night. I don’t know whether or not the allure is fading (if you have your favorite food every day, it stops being a rare treat) but it was obvious that this, me pointing a camera at her throbbing snatch, had sparked something inside of her.

“That was fun,” she said. “Thanks so much for shooting that for me.”

“No problem.”

Ashley hadn’t even hesitated at the idea of me holding the camera. Why would she? I’d seen her cum dozens of times—on-camera, off-camera. Watching each other cum was just something we did now; no big deal.

I loved my life.

And so she’d freely allowed me to film her getting off, not even blinking an eye as I moved the camera in for a closeup of her pulsating pussy.

No big deal.

I uploaded the video to her computer and watched her watch it. She was transfixed.

I guess she’d never watched herself back before. Like I said, recording stuff from the cam sites is a bit of a hassle. It can be done, but we’d never bothered.

She’d never bothered. I had about a hundred hours on my hard-drive, just in case I ever screwed up and lost access to my sister’s work. To her mind. Even if the shows stopped, even if she stopped letting me watch her get off, I wanted to have something I could use to remember the good times.

Ashley smiled at the sight of herself smiling on-camera. She leaned in slightly as the Hitachi made its way between her legs.

She bit her lip at the close-up of her clit.

And then, when it was done, she turned to me with an earnest look on her face.

“What did you think?”

I smiled, and launched into feedback.

It took six more takes before I was ‘happy’ with the video.

I’d expected us to do it over the course of a few days, but…fuck. My sister, it turns out, is a machine. As soon as I said “action”, it was like she hadn’t cum for a week. At my instruction, she was pleading with the camera, begging the audience to let her cum. When I nodded, she became coquettish, flirting with the webcam as she began to strip.

And when she pulled out her toy and got to work, it never took her more than ten minutes to get off.

Even on the last take. She’d been cumming for hours at that point, but she still managed to hit her peak to exactly match my suggested timing.

I’d call ‘cut’, we’d watch the tape, she’d blush and squirm and smile at the sight of her own writhing body, and then turn to me for feedback.

When I finally signed off on the seventh video, my sister looked like she wanted to burst with excitement. She threw herself at me, and gave me a naked, sweaty hug.

I hugged her back, carefully angling myself so that she wouldn’t notice my erection.

Even if I never got any further with Ashley, even if this was it…god. The memory of her bare tits, pressed against my shirt; my hands, gently holding her back…the smell of her pussy filling the air.

It was heavenly.

I considered telling her I needed to go to bed, or that I wanted to jerk off, but her excitement was contagious. Instead, I spent the next hour and a half setting everything up; finding the webhost the other camgirls use, uploading the video, updating her profile with the details.

By the time I was done, I was starting to hit a wall, but my sister was still thrumming with excitement.

If I’d offered to shoot another video, I had no doubt that she would have enthusiastically agreed.

Instead, I went into my room and slept, too tired to even jerk off.

Ashley awoke me in the morning, a huge grin on her face.

“Guess the number,” she said. I’m guessing our parents weren’t home, because she was completely naked.

Waking up to the sight of Ashley’s bare tits was something I was getting used to. I loved my life.

“Three point one four,” I mumbled, not sure what she was talking about.

“No,” she laughed. “The video.”

My forehead crinkled.

“Sales?”

“Yeah.”

“How have you had any sales? You haven’t done a show since…—“

“I was too wired to sleep, so I stayed up and did a show for a few hours. Guess the number!”

“Six.”

“Sixty-five,” she said, and I sat up in surprise.

“What?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I priced it at 500 credits, like you suggested…that’s almost a thousand bucks!”

The cam sites take a portion of every credit. I don’t remember the exact split, but Ashley certainly does.

“That’s insane,” I said, rubbing my eyes. Ashley bounced with joy, causing other parts of her to bounce as well.

I moved my hands away from my face and enjoyed the show.

“Thanks so much,” she said, her eyes suddenly filling with sincerity. “Seriously, Jacob. I really appreciate all the help you’ve given me.”

“Happy to,” I said casually. “I know how important this is to you.”

“Yeah,” she said, a faraway look in her eyes.

For a moment, my heart almost stopped. Crap. Why had I reminded her how important this was to her? From there, it was a short path to questioning why it was so important, and why her brother was involved, and then she might go exploring, find the filing cabinets, go through hers, recognize my hand-writing…

Before my train of thought could turn into a full-blown filing cabinet, she continued.

“Jacob…”

“Yeah?”

I totally failed at sounding casual, but I don’t think Ashley even noticed.

“I’m thinking…”

“What?”

“You’ve done so much for me, I don’t even want to ask.”

“What is it?”

My sister took a deep breath, and put her hand on my hand.

“Will you help me make some more videos? I know it’s a little weird, but you’re so good at it.”

Mentally breathing a sigh of relief, I nodded.

“Of course,” I replied, doing a much better job of sounding chill. “Not a problem.”

“Great,” she said. “Thanks so much!”

A smile spread over my face as I watched her bare ass skip out of my room.

This was going even better than I’d hoped.

Over the next few weeks, I helped my sister make almost two dozen more masturbation videos. Hitachi vids, bath vids, some in which she got off using only her hands, even one or two where she squirted. We talked about doing one in a public park (an idea which Ashley was very excited by) but eventually abandoned the idea.

I told my sister it was because I didn’t want to risk her getting in trouble. That was definitely part of it, but just as importantly: if something did go wrong, I didn’t want it to come out that her brother was her director.

The videos did well. Better than I was expecting, honestly. On one level, it was kind of nice, knowing that I wasn’t a total freak—my sister really was impossibly desirable. Yeah, it was still messed up that I was attracted to my own sister, but it wasn’t entirely my fault.

She really was superhumanly attractive. Some kind of sex goddess.

And soon, she’d be mine.

With each video, I got more and more picky. The first few took less than ten takes before I was ‘satisfied’, but as we kept going, I kept demanding more and more reshoots. The last masturbation video took almost fifty attempts before I signed off on it.

Ashley never once complained, no matter how far I pushed it. She knew how important it was to get everything right; she completely believed that I was doing it all for her, for her success. She’d get herself off again and again, following my every instruction. If I told her to grab her nipple, she’d grab her nipple. If I told her to act like a tiger…she was immediately one-hundred percent tiger.

It was such a turn-on, having my flushed, sweaty, orgasming sister obeying my every command. In order to avoid my voice interrupting the videos, we’d worked out some silent commands. When I shook my head, she’d slow down whatever she was doing. When I tilted my head to the side, she’d perform louder and more enthusiastically.

And when I tilted my head down and stared intensely at her, my sister would cum.

We only ever used these signals when we were filming, of course, but man it was tempting to test them out somewhere else. Yeah, I can’t imagine my sister would just abruptly orgasm in public, but isn’t that how Pavlovian training works? She’d cum more than a hundred times at the sight of my tilted head…I was so curious to know what would happen if I used it at the dinner table. Even in front of our parents, I was sure it would turn her on, if not make her spontaneously cum.

I didn’t do it, of course. Fun though the idea was, everything was going so well. There was no chance I was going to take any kind of risk with it all now. Especially not such a stupid risk.

But the idea was a huge turn-on.

After the first dozen videos, Ashley presented me with a dilemma:

She offered me a cut of the profits.

On one hand, I knew how hard that must have been for her. I’d made money such a high priority for my sister. It must have killed her to offer me part of it, even the (almost insultingly) low percentage she’d offered. If I accepted, she might decide that she’d be better off just making them by herself. Sure, they might not be as polished, but she’d get to keep one hundred percent of the earnings.

But if I rejected it, I risked her wondering why I was helping her. Like, these videos took serious hours to put together; why would a brother do this and turn down the money? My motives wouldn’t really stand up to a whole lot of questioning.

In the end, I passed on the money, and told her that she’d ‘owe me’ a favor. With a look of relief, Ashley agreed—‘anything’, she told me. Anything I wanted.

Little did she know, it wouldn’t be long before she gave me everything.