The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Another month went by. Another month of me fucking my sister daily as she obeyed my every command, doing all she could to mold herself into the perfect woman.

Another month of Ashley refusing to make a move.

I couldn’t understand it.

You ever try to set up a Google Sheet with some like, custom code? It’s not really code, it’s just spreadsheet stuff, but it feels like code.

So you learn how to do it from the help documents and you put it all into the sheet and you press enter, and it’s meant to sort your shit alphabetically and separate first and last names, but instead, it does something weird. Like, it’ll return an error that doesn’t make sense…or worse, give you all the data split into first and last names, but sorted by some other metric entirely. Name-length or date of entry or something like that.

That’s what it felt like, dealing with Ashley. A Google Sheet that was doing most of what I wanted, but somehow missing that final step.

And again, to be clear wrong: I was very, very happy just having first and last names separated. Believe me; those thirty days of my sister at my complete sexual command, happily taking my cum into her holes, orgasming loudly as she did, and spending the rest of her time making boatloads of money and catering to my every whim…not something I would’ve traded for the world.

It just would’ve been nice to have an alphabetically-sorted list at the end of it.

We released a few more videos. None of them did quite as well as the first one, though my sister’s first anal video came close. I mean, one of Ashley’s videos ’not doing well’ would still be enough to pay off a small mortgage. Her numbers were probably the envy of most other streamers on the site.

I know my dick was the envy of all her viewers. (Except for the straight women I learned were, for reasons I didn’t fully understand, also buying the videos. I managed my sister’s inbox, and she got some very complimentary messages about my dick. An unexpected perk of the job!)

My sister, meanwhile, was starting to move towards a breaking point. Shifting all my preferences to the top of her list had lowered her Exhibitionism and Short-Term Wealth priorities, and without those as key motivators, I imagine it isn’t much fun to go live on camera and diddle yourself for a few hours every night.

She still put on a good show, of course, but I think it was mostly because of how much highly she prioritized Obedience. Before the camera clicked on each night, I’d tell her to have fun; I think just knowing I was watching (and obeying the commands of all the men who were watching) was what got her through it, but it was clear that Ashley wasn’t enjoying it as much as she once had.

Not just to me, either. Her numbers dipped a little. We’d expected that after she’d started releasing full-intercourse videos (it removes some of the magic, y’know?) but the drop continued even after that, and I knew it was because she’d lost her passion for it.

Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. I guess I could’ve just bumped her exhibitionism and money-lust back up, but I felt like we were so close to my sister begging me to own her, to be my slave. Everything was in place, and I didn’t want to mess with them.

The alternative was having her retire, or take a break, but until she confessed how she really felt about me, her show (and the videos she sold) was her excuse for doing what we were doing.

So I didn’t want to mess with that either.

Unlike Google Sheets, the mysterious room full of cabinets didn’t have a handy help forum.

”My sister won’t beg me to become my sex slave. I’ve used =PRIORITY(“Become brother’s sex slave”, “Obedience”, “Submission”, “Demure attitude”, “Soft Voice”) but no luck. Has anyone else found a formula that works?”

After a while, I even started to feel bad about it. My sister was spending hours each night doing a show she didn’t like, just so she could keep on fucking me, and it was obvious that not yet being my sex slave was really starting to stress her out.

Not that she ever complained about it. Or anything, really.

I was watching her perform—she was doing a ’pick next stream’s outfit’ thing that we’d seen a Japanese girl have some luck with—when it hit me.

Oh my god. How could I have been so dumb?

I’d spent so much time and effort making my sister demure. Reserved. Modest.

Unlikely to complain, or…y’know, ask for what she wanted.

No wonder she hadn’t made a move yet. That’s why HAL goes nuts in 2001: A Space Odyssey (spoiler alert for 2001: A Space Odyssey, I guess)—he’s given two conflicting commands. In his case, it’s to be honest with the crew and also to keep a secret from them, and he ends up killing everyone.

In my sister’s case, I’d put her in a position where she needed to beg me to make her my sex slave…and told her to be demure and submissive.

I guess by prioritizing ‘Be Jacob’s Sex Slave’, I’d expected that to overrule the others, but I don’t know how I expected her to get there by herself.

After the show that night, I fucked Ashley on her bed. The moment she stopped streaming, I grabbed her by the wrist, threw her down on the bed, and went down on her. She was already pretty juicy from the show (and from the two loads I’d pumped into her earlier that day) but when she completely drenched, I lay down beside her on the bed, and fucked her from behind until we both came.

And then I fucked her again.

We lay there for a long time in silence, just enjoying the feeling of naked flesh on naked flesh. I stroked her hair, and she shivered in pleasure.

It’s funny; you spend enough time with someone, you can basically tell what they’re thinking. Even if I hadn’t had access to Ashley’s cabinet, I bet I would’ve been able to tell how much she wanted to ask me. How much she wanted to say, in that moment, “please, little brother, let me be your sex slave”.

But she didn’t, of course. And at last, I felt like I knew why.

I kissed her neck and told her to go to sleep. Her breathing grew deeper as she obeyed—her need to obey was such a core part of her being by now, I could’ve ordered her to spontaneously lower her cholestorol and it probably would’ve seen a noticeable shift.

When I knew she was sleeping, I slipped out of her bed, out of her room, and into the tiny door which no one in my family but me seemed to have noticed.

It only took a few minutes of sifting through her drawer to find it. Without a help forum, I’d spent a lot of time over the last month trying to work it out myself, going through Ashley’s files again and again to try to find what I was missing.

It was way, way down the end—not quite as far back as ‘Become President’, but further down than ‘Sit In The Shade Of A Tree I’ve Planted Myself’.

I moved it right up in my sister’s priority order, back to where it had probably naturally been before my meddling. I placed it right beside the file I’d most recently adjusted—’Be Active During Sex’.

I closed the drawer, and made my way into my own bed. During my recent exploring, I’d been going through my own folder in case there was anything I could gleam from it, and learned that ‘Sleeping Alone’ was a relatively high priority for me. It was nice to know that I could shift that if I ever needed to, but with a sex slave dedicated to making me happy, whenever I wanted to be alone I’d just tell Ashley to sleep in her own bed. Or in a basket at end of mine.

I went to sleep that night with a smile on my face, pretty sure that I’d just solved my problem by shifting that deeply-buried priority:

’Expressing Needs.’

“It’s just that…well, sir, I don’t want to cam any more,” Ashley said, nervously fiddling with her collar.

“Okay,” her brother replied calmly, and the naked woman felt every cell in her body relax. She’d been wanting to say that for days.

Well, she’d been wanting to say it for weeks, but it hadn’t felt like an option. She’d known that brother liked submissive, obedient, demure girls…and expressing herself like that had felt impossible. Like she was making demands. It just hadn’t been an option.

But Ashley had woken up a few days earlier with the realization that continuing along her current path was unsustainable. If she kept on bottling her feelings up inside, something was going to break.

She had to tell Jacob how she felt.

Ashley had, in the days since her epiphany, been experimenting with smaller declarations. Her voice had been quivering the first time she’d told Jacob that as much as she loved it, she sometimes struggled to breathe when he grabbed her collar during sex.

To her great relief, he’d just nodded in reply…and after that, been more careful.

The teenage girl had been so nervous when she’d told him that while nothing turned her on more than being woken up in the morning by feeling his cock sliding into her, she felt self-conscious about her breath. Again, he hadn’t said anything, just ruffled her hair in response…but the next morning when she was jolted awake by his anal intrusion, she noticed a small pack of gum on her bedside dresser.

Every part of Ashley’s body glowed. She had such a perfect master.

Now she just had to become his slave.

This had been a big step. She’d confessed that she wasn’t happy camming, and wanted to put an end to her career…and Jacob hadn’t seemed fazed by it at all.

Her brother had just looked at her expectantly, as if he was expecting more. Ashley froze—her overwhelming need to obey meant that she wanted to give him more, but the other thing she had to tell him, it was…she couldn’t. Not yet. It wasn’t the right moment. Everything had to be perfect.

“So what does that mean for…” Gesturing to her collar, Jacob trailed off, and his sister licked her lips nervously.

Perhaps perfect would never come.

“Well, sir,” she answered, trying to keep her voice light. “I was thinking that, um…I mean, this is kind of working for both of us, right? You’re enjoying it, I’m enjoying it. So maybe we could, um…”

It was Ashley’s turn to trail off, but her brother just stared at her blankly.

“Mmm?”

“Maybe, uhm, I could…I dunno. Be your sex slave?”

The last few words were emitted in a high-pitched squeak, and Ashley knew that her face was a bright red, but…she’d done it. She’d asked her brother if she could be his sex slave.

The ball was in his court now.

“Pardon?” he asked. Ashley’s eyes widened; she was too distracted to notice the mischievous look on his face.

“Maybe I could be your sex slave?” she repeated, her eyes burning a hole in the carpet, her cheeks burning holes in her face. “Please?”

“Are you sure you really want that?” he asked, and this time the young woman noticed his cheeky tone.

“Mm-hmm,” she answered, narrowing her eyes and risking a glance at her brother. He was looking smugly down at her. Playing with her.

Which made sense. She was his toy, after all.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he said, folding his arms and leaning back. He’d cum onto her tits just a few minutes before she’d broached the subject, but Ashley noticed that his cock was rising once more.

Her brother was enjoying this.

“I’d…I’d like to be your sex slave,” she said, biting her lip and looking up at him. “Please.”

“Please?”

Ashley didn’t even realize her body had any blood left in it, but more rushed to her face. “Please, sir.”

“Now the whole thing,” he said slowly, tauntingly, and she nodded.

“Please, sir. Please, I’d like to be your sex slave. Please.”

“Say it like you mean it,” Jacob drawled, and Ashley obeyed.

“Please, sir. Please. Let me be your sex slave. Please. I’d…I’d be so good at it. Let me be your submissive sister slut. Please.”

“I’m listening.”

With a deep breath, Ashley let all her pent-up need from the last month come out at once. “Please, Jacob. Sir. Please. I want to be your sex slave. I want to belong to you. I want to be your property, your fucktoy. I want to dedicate the rest of my life to serving you. I want to be your obedient, submissive, demure, horny sister sex slave. I’ll do anything you want. For the rest of my life, please—I’ll do anything, just let me be yours. Let me be your property. Yours to own, to control. Please, sir—let me be your sex slave.”

“Why?” Jacob asked earnestly, all sense of mockery gone from his tone.

“Because,” she answered honestly, “I need it. I need it more than I need anything. Please, sir. I need you to own me.”

At Jacob’s nod, tears sprung into Ashley’s eyes.

“Okay,” he said gently, pulling his naked, collared, cum-coated sister into his embrace. “If you really want to.”

“I do, s-sir” she assured him. “I truly do.”

“We’ll need to work out a contract,” he mused. “Some paperwork, to confirm that you belong to me. That everything own is mine. That you’re mine. A pledge that you’ll do whatever I want you to do, fuck whoever I want you to fuck. That you are entirely my property; mind, body, and soul.”

“Of course, master.” Ashley said, her entire body shuddering with joy. She needed it so much. She needed to belong to her brother, more than she could remember ever needing anything.

At long last, she’d found her place. This was where she was meant to be.

She was so happy.

“I can’t thank you enough for your support for the six months I’ve been doing this,” Ashley said, beaming into the camera.

Hearing her say it aloud was a bit of a shock to the system. How had it only been six months? It felt like almost a decade since I’d first found the small door, first opened my sister’s cabinet. So much had changed, in just six months.

“I won’t go into my reasons for leaving, but believe me when I say…this is what’s best for everyone. Especially me.”

My sister glanced up, and caught my eye for a moment. I smiled at her, and she took that energy and reflected it straight back to her fans.

“Don’t worry—my videos will always be for sale, and there might even be more coming soon.”

There would be. They were easy enough to keep making, though my research told me that sales would see a steep drop after she stopped camming regularly. Even so, the money made would be worth it.

Especially since it was my money now.

“Seriously though, thanks for everything. And to celebrate…”

Ashley leaned over and clicked on her toy.

“…I thought I’d give you one last show.”

And what a show it was. I’d sneaked into her cabinet earlier that day, and returned her Exhibitionism file to the front of her drawer. My sister’s eyes widened as she pulled her top off, starting an avalanche of tips. After a month of bad shows, the feelings of arousal she was experience must have been quite a surprise.

I watched with a smile and a hard-on as my sister came for her fans: once, twice, three times. When she was done, she tremblingly reminded them of her social media handles, and—for the last time—logged off.

Ashley was still shivering as she sat on my lap. I began lightly stroking her naked body, loosely grabbing her new collar to remind her that it was there, that she was mine. As I ran my fingers up and down her spine, my sister began to weep.

I just held her as she cried, knowing that she’d tell me how she was feeling. With time, she’d express her needs.

“This is what it’s all been building towards,” she finally said, her words coming out in sobs. “Everything else was just building to this point.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I said, playing with her hair, letting her assemble her thoughts.

“The stripping, the shows, the videos…it was all just to get me to you.”

My eyes widened. Had she somehow worked out what I’d done? She was right, of course—everything I’d put her through had been to get her to this moment. To get her completely naked, subservient, and under my control. But how had she worked that out?

“I was missing something,” she continued. “But I didn’t know what. I kept trying to fill my holes with all kinds of things, because…I didn’t know. I didn’t know that this, this was what I needed.”

Phew. She still had no idea. And she never would.

“And now this fills your holes,” I joked, pressing my cock against her thigh. She laughed, annoyed…more at herself for laughing than for what I’d said.

“I’m serious,” she continued, after a long, shuddering sigh. It was a level of sass that she wouldn’t have allowed herself with ‘Expressing Needs’ buried at the back of her folder, but I liked it. I liked my sister.

I liked her more as my obedient sex slave, but that didn’t mean I wanted to completely snuff out her personality.

“You’re serious sir,” I reminded her, and her body tensed for a moment.

“I’m serious, sir,” she repeated. “Being yours, sir. Master. It’s…it’s what I needed more than anything.”

I nodded, holding my sex slave, enjoying feeling of her skin against mine.

“Sir, did you ever learn about the hierarchy of needs?” Ashley asked. She must have felt me tense. “Oh yes, of course. You would’ve been teased about it as much as I was.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Maybe that’s the best way to put it,” she said softly. “Being yours. Being held by you. Belonging to you, master. Getting to call you master. That’s…that’s at the top of my pyramid of needs.”

No, I thought to myself with a smile. But it’s pretty close.

We continued to sat there in silence for several minutes, just enjoying the physical and emotional closeness, when Ashley spoke up once more.

“Sir?”

“Yes, pet?”

“I think we should get our own place.”

I loved that she expressed her needs…but didn’t love when she forgot how she should address me. I coughed, and she immediately corrected herself.

“…sir.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, sir. Unless…do you think Mom and Dad will be suspicious if we were to move in together?”

I chuckled softly. “No,” I said without hesitation. “No, I think I can take care of that.”