The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Someone come down here, this instant!” Irene’s voice rang loud and proud. It alone made her presence known to everyone in the house.

A sound that would make anyone’s gunt sink drastically by the second, with Trace being no different. It’s not that Irene is generally a loud, intimidating, and fear-inducing person; really, she’s the opposite. Extremely caring, protective, she treats her foster kids as her own children... Basically, a mother-bear through and through. Instead of any type of fear to be sensed around her, they all just feel a general aura of protectiveness when she’s present. Not sure why. Maybe it’s due to how surprisingly active and fit she is; it’s easy to catch her lifting weights or going out for jogs. But regardless, she can hold her own; one particular memory comes to mind, in which she took on multiple trained men in a boxing match, back to back. How? Well, fuck. She’s slender enough to dodge yet thick enough to pack a punch. And that thickness she has to her is more muscle than fat or more fat than muscle. Honestly, it’s hard to tell.

So, yeah. Something like that isn’t easy to forget. Everyone typically feels safe around Irene since they know full well that she is a capable woman in more ways than one. Note the word, typically. In instances such as this one, that safety net she draped over her foster children gets lifted, and no one knows what the fuck will happen.

She can certainly get heated fast. The heat is usually directed towards 3rd parties, but occasionally the rowdy foster kids are the focus of her anger, which isn’t fun for the one who provoked her. Now everyone here knows that despite how much she could severely fuck them up, she wouldn’t do anything to actually harm anyone. Regardless of how strong her naturally heated personality can become, she wouldn’t be able to do anything her affectionate side won’t allow.

Which is nice knowledge to have...

That being said, she’s still fucking scary at times.

Especially by how she stood in the hallway at the kitchen’s entrance, with DJ held very protectively in her arms, it became clear she was much more severely pissed than her voice led to believe.

“Umm...” Violet’s naturally plain and uncaring voice came out much more humble than she typically is. She was just as aware of Irene’s notably pissed-off presence.

Irene’s black irises shifted over and locked on the two approaching teens. “Who left the stove on?” She spoke rather coldly. “Or a boiling hot pot of stew, multiple sharp objects, and a chair, in... EXTREMELY dangerous reach of... I don’t know... A CHILD!?” The last word caused a short trimmer to reverb out of her voice. It was clear that, despite her initial anger, she was more so concerned over the thought of the child in her arms hurting himself than simply the stove being left on. “Because I found DJ, sitting on the chair someone left near all of those things... Things that he could have very easily gotten his hands on.”

Violet gulped.

That was a good idea. So Trace did the same thing, though his gulp sounded much louder. Neither of them wanted to admit that their ignorance left DJ in a dangerous situation. Irene’s anger was more than justified; we just established that she’s overly protective of her foster kids, which includes DJ, perhaps even more so with him essentially being her baby.

“We...” Trace mumbled out.

The angered woman’s eyes were locked on them both; she held DJ so tightly in her protective grip, her sizable breasts appeared to welcome the boy between them. Though, Trace was too genuinely afraid of Irene to consider anything sexual. Fucking hell, sexual thoughts were what got him into this situation. He was too horny over Violet’s massive rack that he hadn’t considered the very valid concerns Irene is upset over. God, his busty sister’s tits served as literal weapons in more ways than one, figuratively and literally in this case, as they’re one of the causes for this very situation.

“What?! We what?” Irene snapped. “Where were you two? What were you doing? Where are Chloe and Claire?”

“Where were we? Oh, we were both in the bathroom. What were we doing? Violet was letting me cum on her tits because I stole a mind-controlling drug from a super genius girl that goes to my school, which I then used on my sister after trying not to give in to the temptation. But her tits are so fucking huge; it doesn’t matter what she wear’s they’re just there. They kept jiggling from even the littlest of movements... Really everyone was starting to look very sexy, and they weren’t even doing anything overtly sexual. So I gave up, used the drug on Violet, made her believe that her tits need my cum so I can basically cum on her giant-sized funbags at least once a day. All that distracted me so much that DJ was honestly the last thing on my mind; I’m sorry, Mom, I really am. I wouldn’t purposely leave DJ in that room if I knew he could possibly get hurt.” Is what Trace could have said.

It would answer all of her questions; well, everything except the one about Chloe and Claire’s current locations. Cause he had no clue on that front. But it would let him be as honest as he could be towards his foster mother and allow her to take the next steps however she saw fit.

Except, obviously, he didn’t say that. It doesn’t even need to be explained why he refrained from being honest.

One, she probably wouldn’t believe him without evidence, though a single look at Violet’s chest (which had been absolutely coated in a total smear of sticky cum) should be enough proof. Damn... Violet’s tits probably had her cleavage loosely stuck together in a sticky mess by now...

Oh yeah, and Two. Why would he fucking expose himself to this woman who could beat his ass without question?

But while he didn’t say something that would essentially throw him, and only him under the bus. He did open his mouth to say the latter part of the previously stated hypothetical response.

The, “I’m sorry Mom,” portion. It would be honest, and really, she was only mad because she loved them all. DJ and everyone, the anger stemmed from her genuine care, so she would forgive him for fucking up. There wasn’t really any doubt about that.

Though, before he could let out a word, someone else spoke up. And it wasn’t Violet; no, she stood beside Trace, fully intending to keep her mouth shut and stay quiet, as she usually does 90% of the day.

“Mom! That was me!”

Both Violet and I blinked in surprise when we saw Clair bound down the steps and walk down the hall to approach the scene.

“I’m so sorry,” She said. “I was leaving the kitchen for just a second to get something in my room. I swear I had my eyes on everything.”

Irene’s lips rested passively against her lips as she looked at Clair in silence for a few seconds. As the oldest, Clair stood to have the best chance at standing her ground to Irene’s authority since she herself had her own portion of influence over everyone in the house.

“Why didn’t you take DJ with you? If it was so important? You know I don’t want anyone to even risk the chance of..”

“Yeah, I... Honestly didn’t even know DJ was here.” Clair said with a brief shrug. The miniature motion made her chest bounce within her bra faintly, though clearly not faint enough to go unnoticed by Trace’s increasingly perverted mind. “You can ask Chloe or anyone here. We all had no idea where he was.”

Irene returned her gaze to Trace and Violet, which prompted the two to nod in a silenced agreement.

She sighed. “Chloe!!” She called out.

After a few seconds of silence passed. Claire turned around and cupped her hands over her mouth. “CHLOE!” She called out, significantly louder than Irene had. She was used to shouting to get the attention of her younger siblings, and it was quite possible that with DJ resting his head against her pillowy chest, Irene hadn’t wanted to raise her voice too much.

“Uhgmm... Yes Claire??!!!” Chloe’s cute angelic voice called back.

“We need you down here,” Claire said with a much more level tone of voice.

“Okay!!!” Her voice called back, and almost immediately after, the sounds of her bare feet created quick soft pats against the carpet floor as she bounded downstairs. She approached the commotion with her bright blue eyes shining with a glint of curiosity; a cookie laid in her hand, and she quietly bit into it. Her soft lips wrapped around the food as she crunched down. She then proceeded to chew on it in silence; a few bits of the cookie crumbs broke apart and scattered down onto her, some of which landed between her cleavage to disappear from sight.

“Who was keeping track of DJ today?” Irene asked Chloe.

With her mouth still full of food, Chloe blinked quietly and chewed for a second or two longer before she swallowed.

“Claire was when we were at school.” She said. “Then I started watching him when I got back. But I swear! I closed my eyes for one second, and he poofed away!”

Irene held a look of disdain.

“He might be magic,” Chloe added. Her eyes then appeared to notice DJ for the first time. “Ohhh! DJ!” She gasped with a smile and dashed forward to give him a hug while he was still held in Irene’s arms.

“This is serious.” Irene stopped Chloe’s momentum and planted a hand on her forehand, keeping her an arm’s length away. “He’s not old enough to make smart choices, or really any choices. All of you need to keep track of him at all times.”

“Yes, Mom,” Violet said. “We know. It was an accident.”

Irene sighed. “Look, I believe you, but please, please, PLEASE don’t do this again. You are all going to give me a heart attack, and I am far too young for that.”

“Yeah...” Claire rubbed her shoulder. Though she probably should have kept her mouth shut as she brought Irene’s attention onto her.

“And you’re the oldest here,” Irene said before lightly bouncing on her heels to keep DJ from slipping down from her hold on him. “I expect you to be responsible enough not to make mistakes like this often. If anything were to happen, there might be lifelong consequences.”

Claire looked to the side. “I know, but... I... It won’t happen again.”

Having this many siblings made it very easy to hide in the crowd. Trace kept his mouth shut and simply waited while Irene did or said whatever she saw fit.

The front door, which had been left open, slammed shut. “Well, they apologized.” Max’s voice hid behind multiple bags that he held up over his face. “And no one got hurt. So...” He approached the group and dumped the bags onto the ground. “I say it’s all good.”

“Yeah, well... Someone could have gotten hurt.” Irene said in response to her husband. “But...” She shifted her gaze from each of her foster children, and her stone-faced look softened. “You’re all okay, so I’ll let it slide.”

“Good.” Max crossed his arms. “Now I’m going to need someone to volunteer and help me get some loot out of the truck.”

Trace could feel the weight of Max’s gaze center on him. A wordless way to make it known that he more than expected him to help.

But Trace didn’t particularly mind; Max was always fairly light-hearted and generally carefree, especially in comparison to Irene and her tough girl-hardworking persona. And for a foster parent, he did his best to stand as a father figure; we all kind of owed him too, with how many times he was there to bail us out when Irene was in one of her angry mother bear moods.

He opened his mouth to respond to Max, but Chloe, and her ever willing to help persona, reacted first. “I’ll help!” She had a light bounce in her feet as she moved towards the front door; her thick ass was fitted into short shorts and softly jiggled in tune with her steps.

“Yeah?” Max raised a brow towards Trace, then looked over to Chloe, and shrugged. “Alright, whatever.”

Well. Trace had intended to volunteer, but if Chloe wants to help in his stead, who is he to interject?

“Since you already started dinner,” Irene said as she walked past the kitchen. “I guess I won’t be making anything. If you need me, I’ll be with DJ in my room.”

“Kay.” Violet said as we all watched her walk away.

“Oh, and Claire.” Irene paused a few ways away and looked back. “Try not to leave the stove on again.” She looked back and flashed a teasing wink, but we all knew that there was a serious command behind her light tone of voice.

“I won’t,” Claire said as Irene turned a corner and left our line of sight.

Just then, she shot out a hand to steal Trace away by his shoulder. She more than dragged him into the kitchen and pushed him forward before crossing her arms under her bust. “What the hell, Trace?!” Her voice came out as a heated whisper. “I trusted you! You know I had to hang up on Josh.”

“I don’t know why you took the blame.” Violet followed us into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. “I would have just let him have it.”

Trace found himself naturally frown towards her statement; Violet had her head in the fridge as she was searching for something to drink. After she found the bottle of orange juice, she stepped back and shut the door.

She noticed Trace’s look and offered him a half sympathetic look, “I love you, dude.”

Claire rolled her eyes and sighed. The action had a pleasing effect on her breasts, one that made them appear to rise upwards. “I can handle Irene eating me out more than Trace.”

Her choice of words caused Trace’s mind to wander. The mental image of Claire and her thick dark-skinned thighs getting eaten out by Irene was a very hot situation to picture.

“Violet and I got distracted...” I let that word linger and shot my pale-skinned sister a shady glare. It wasn’t nice that she didn’t want to step up for him here; even though it was entirely his fault, she believed that he did her a favor. If anything, she should be willing to back him up, at the very least.

Violet noticed my look, right as she was about to place a glass of OJ to her lips. She paused and quietly mouthed “Love you.” before proceeding to drink.

“Yeah yeah...” Claire’s voice was clearly laced with a hint of sarcasm. She gave him a backhanded wave and moved her attention to the pot of stew on the stole. “Whatever man, I was hoping you could cover for me. But it looks like things ended up being the other way around... Again.”

Both Violet and Trace held reasonable looks of disappointment.

“You can call him back. Right?” Violet said after taking a gulp from her glass. She had her elbows resting against the counter, though her two enormous tits were taking most of the weight. It’s surreal knowing that she still had her brother’s cum stuck between her tits while she talks about her sister’s crush.

“No.” Claire mused disappointedly. Her toned back (partly revealed by the tight orange crop-top she wore) and round hips swayed idly as she tended to the stovetop. After a few silent seconds, she placed the stirring spoon to the side and reached into the backmost pocket of her tight jeans to retrieve her phone. “Mom won’t let me leave this again.” She said while focused on her phone. “I can’t trust Trace.”

Ouch.

“And there’s no way I’m calling Josh out here.”

Okay. Claire blaming Trace made sense from an obvious standpoint, in the sense that it was entirely his doing. How could Violet not take any blame when she genuinely believed he did her a favor? It doesn’t matter if she mouthed a quiet “Love you.” Saying one thing and then proceeding to not back him up is something entirely different.

“I’ll make sure Trace watches it.” Violet took another sip of OJ.

“What?” Trace said.

“I don’t know.”

“Have I ever let you down?” Violet’s voice was bland as ever. So much so that it was a genuine challenge to hear if she was sarcastic.

“A few times,” Claire said.

“A few times in eighteen years is a good track record.”

“I mean...”

“Fine. Whatever, Claire.” Violet shrugged. The slight motion caused her giant rack to shift upwards and jiggle softly against her petite build. “I’ll be reading in my room.” She took herself, along with her cup of orange juice, to the entrance of the kitchen.

“Wait...” Claire raised her hand. She shifted her matured youthful face towards Violet and asked. “I can trust you with this.”

“It’s just stew.”

“Yeah. But apparently, that was too much for somebody.” Trace didn’t miss Clair’s intention to jab at him verbally.

His eye twitched.

He loved these girls—all of them. Claire is a caring older sister type; she even took the bullet for him despite being upset. Violet is bland and cold to nearly everyone but is warm to the people close to her and will actually do shit for people just to make them happy. And Chloe is perfect to a painful degree, in that at times she’s too nice to where it’s annoying.

But everyone has their upsides and downsides.

And currently, those downsides were getting to him. Claire being so quick to be disappointed in him, even while she willingly chose to defend and take the blame in front of their foster mother. Violet will always be there if he’s down. But when she needs, or could very easily defend him, she chooses to keep her mouth shut? So what? When nothing can happen to her, she’ll be the supportive sister that hides her loving side for when it’s needed... And when a situation does come about where she can get punished in any way, she quiet and acts like she doesn’t care....

And Chloe... Well, honestly it’s seemingly impossible to be mad at her; at worst, she’s annoying, but then if someone tells her to stop, nine times out of ten, she’ll stop.

But Claire and Violet were certainly pushing his buttons.

“Just go. We’ll keep watch.” Violet said. “I won’t let him leave this time.”

She won’t let him leave? Oh please. One look in her eyes and he could still make out the telltale purple hue sign that Paige’s potion is still in effect. He could “convince” her that shoving her face up Claire’s ass is something she does every time he claps. As if she is in the position to stop him from doing anything...

..Okay... He needs to calm down... She’s his sister. She loves him, and he loves her... She’s just being a bit of a bitch at the moment in not stepping up to defend him in any way... but... she’s still his sister...

His big... fat tit having... huge bust bearing... massive milky making... Sister...

Trace had to shake his head. His eyes were lingering on the sheer mass of tit resting beneath her oversized sweater. She was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, and the side of her tit meshed against the solid surface.

“Alright.” Claire stood up. Her no longer leaning forward meant her tight jean-coated ass was no longer being pointed in his direction. “Please don’t let me regret this.” She said before turning her attention to her phone. Her fingers danced away on the screen while she no doubt went to pull back up Josh’s number.

“We won’t,” Violet said and stepped to the side to let her sister leave.

The two of them stared at the door for a lingering second. “Okay...” She breathed out and looked towards Trace. “Let’s not leave the stove on this tim—”

“Yeah. You have fun with this.” Trace turned to leave.

“Woah, you can’t go.” Violet shot out her hand and caught Trace before he could get far.

Trace let out an annoyed sigh and turned around to display his foul mood to her. “We don’t both need to be here, right?”

In response to his question, Violet stared at him in silence with her head slowly tilting. “Are you pissed?”

“Am I pissed?” Traced rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not pissed.”

His voice oozed the sarcasm of a teen who was clearly upset. Why was Violet like this? Everyone else was the type to have each other’s backs. Claire literally took the blame for something she didn’t do, just so her foster siblings wouldn’t get in trouble; and Chloe would do nearly anything for anybody with how nice she is, the bubbly girl would nearly starve herself if it meant a hungry person could eat. But Violet? She’s Chloe’s big-titted, emotionless goth-like twin, yet she displayed no interest in backing him up. It seemed like she would let the whole house hound on him and do nothing to assist on his behalf.

“Yeah. You’re not pissed. Sure.” Violet scoffed. “Let’s finish with this food already.”

“We don’t need two people for that.”

“Oh.” Violet watched as Trace walked off. “Okay. So you talk about how I never want to hang out. But when we have this perfect chance, you leave?”

That response made Trace stop in his tracks. “Are you turning this on me?” He turned around; his temper might’ve been closer to Irene’s than he was aware of, as this conversation was making him feel quite heated. “You’re the one who didn’t stand up for me at all.”

Violet looked perplexed. “What?” She shifted in place slightly before crossing her arms. An action that shouldn’t have distracted him as much as it did, but big boobs have that effect on the straight male brain. “What are you talking about? We didn’t get in trouble? What was I supposed to say.”

“I dunno, something... anything that wouldn’t have made Claire hate me.”

“Claire doesn’t hate you.”

“She’s annoyed.”

“Oh big whoop! And you’re annoyed. Irene was annoyed. It’s a common feeling to have.”

“Kay whatever.” Trace dismissed her with a backhanded wave. “I guess it’s good to know that when I’m in trouble, you won’t be there to help.”

Right as Trace left the kitchen, he heard Violet’s bland voice call out. “You’re overreacting. You know that?”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. He might’ve been taking things too far, but this wasn’t the first occurrence, and it sure wouldn’t be the last. Arguably he deserved some repercussions after using Paige’s potion on his sister. But he still treated her with some form of love and respect. He loves her, and he assumed she loved him back even though she rarely displayed affection. But what person who loves someone would stand silently and do nothing while that person is being reprimanded? She’s his fucking sister in every way except blood. And he could feel his anger welling up. For her own good, it would be best if he left before he acted out and used the potion to make her do something he’d regret later...

...

....Well.. Violet did just give him a reason to splurge a bit with the power Paige gave him.. If there was any time to act out and use the potion, it would be this moment... Later he might have to deal with guilt...

Fuck it.

She pissed him off. This was her fault.

“Woah. You calmed down already?” Violet asked sarcastically as Trace returned to the kitchen.

Trace eyed the innocent-looking pot that sat on the counter. Not a single soul suspected its presence or of its true nature. There is far too much going on in the house to care about a single pot, especially its contents.

“Welcome back.”

“Yeah...” Trace said while still looking at the container. “Hey can you come over here for a second?” He glanced towards Violet. She was leaning against the counter while idly stirring the stew on the stove.

He took in the pleasant sight of her tits pressing against the counter from her weight before she looked upwards and met his eyes. “Nope.” She said after a blink. “I’m not leaving this spot until it’s ready.”

“Right.. but you always come to me when I call for you.”

Her facial features flushed over with a sign of confusion. “I do? I don’t.. no I don’t—”

“You always come to me when I call for you. It’s always been that way, and it always will.”

“I... yeah, I always come to you,” Violet said, though her voice was soft and still sounded somewhat confused as if she weren’t sure. Regardless, she left the stove and approached him. Trace managed not to stare at each subtle bounce of her chest. “So.. what did you want?”

“To drink more of this.” Trace opened the cabinet above the counter and retrieved a single glass. He lifted up the lid to his pot and carelessly scooped up a small portion of Paige’s potion.

“Oh. No, I don’t want—”

“You’re thirsty, aren’t you?”

“I’m thirsty? I’m...” She paused to lick her lips, then faintly clap her mouth open and closed. “I am a little thirsty. But water can—”

“You only drink what I say you can drink.” Trace pushed the glass towards her hand, but she didn’t do anything to grasp it.

“That doesn’t sound right...” Violet spoke with uncertainty. “That...”

To Trace’s alarm, he noticed Violet’s irises were beginning to lose their purple fade. Her natural eye color was gradually returning.

Fuck it.

It caught her by surprise, no fault to her since it happened in a blur, but she did nothing but instinctively gulp down after Trace pressed the glass against her lips to pour the liquid down her throat. By the time she snapped back to reality and widened her eyes to realize what was going on, enough of the potion was in her system to make his words stick. “Drink this. You’re thirsty. You only drink what I say you can drink.”

Those words were accepted into her mind nearly instantly, especially in comparison to before, where she had some form of resistance to the potion’s effect. Quickly her hands moved up to hold the glass herself, and she finished its contents without him having to be involved.

“Thank you.” Trace took the glass.

“No...” Violet exhaled. Her breath came out as a purple puff of air that batted against his face. “Thank you... that helped a lot. I needed something to drink.”

“No problem!” He said as Violet made a move to shift around and return to her position at the stove. “Wait.” She was stopped as he gripped her by both shoulders. Then, right as her eyes looked up at his with an unspoken question glinting within them. He said. “I have a question.”

“What?” She asked, somewhat calmy. It was odd; she clearly was comfortable with him, enough not to be upset with the way he had his hands on her. No doubt, if any other guy attempted to grab her by the shoulder’s she’d have much to say. But the potion wasn’t causing her to be fine with his grasp. That was naturally her own choice... so she’s fine with this. She loves him enough to let his hands hold onto her like this, but she wouldn’t defend him when he’s being told off? What was up with her priorities?

Well, whatever.

Trace (while looking down past her eyes and directly at her huge tits, which were displaying their gigantic size from below her sweater) said. “Why haven’t you shown me your boobs?”

“What!?” She rightly gasped. Her pale-skinned face, and mainly cheeks, turned a solid shade of red. “You saw them earlier! That was more than enough.”

“But we’re alone.”

“Whatever.” Violate began to roughly shove her shoulders until she was free from his fairly loose grasp. If he was frank, it was the way those movements made her boobs wiggle that distracted him enough to let her go so quickly. “I’m not going to deal with this today.”

“You told me it turns you on more than anything when I look at your tits when no one is around.”

That stopped her.

She was fully turned around, giving Trace a nice view of her shapely body in the light. She definitely had the general hourglass look going on.

The potion was in full effect, but just to push it home, Trace repeated himself. “You know it’s true. When we’re alone, nothing is more important than having me look at your boobs. It’s the hottest thing for you, right?”

Violate’s back was still turned, though, after a few elongated moments of silence, she slowly turned her head to the side. A flushed look was adamant on her face, with defined blushing cheeks and a breathy voice that he had never heard before, she said. “It’s so hot... do you think you can look at them?”

Trace grinned. “Look at what?”

“..My boobs...” She then turned around and gripped the high neckline of her sweater. It was clear that she generally hated her huge tits; never has she shown them off. Even in instances where they’d naturally be seen, she’d wear baggy or heavy clothing just to hide them. The beach, the middle of a heatstroke summer, she’d wear anything to hide her goods. It caused large amounts of sweat to form on her skin; really, the thought of her cleavage creating a sheen of moisture may have turned others on more than actually seeing them.

All of that knowledge made the action she was about to perform all that better. For the second time today, she was revealing her chest. But this instance was solely for her own sexual pleasure and, unknowingly, his as well.

She leaned forward and pulled down the taught top of the sweater’s high-riding neckline. “Look at them.. Please… hahmm.. just stare...”

Well... he couldn’t see anything. The view was so minuscule, and it was mostly her neck and a void of darkness gracing his eyes. But that was a simple fix. He pulled out his phone and turned on the camera, then after it was angled directly down her top, he was able to feast his eyes on a surplus of sheer milky tit flesh. Those tits. They were perfect. It was nothing but an absolute crime that they were always hidden. Looking at them, his erection was feasting off the sight of her two large mounds pressing against each other and forming a tight cleavage that was illuminated by the phone light. The two tits, and the formed cleavage, rose upwards and down at a steady rate with each breath she took. His light clearly reflected off the moist and sticky sheen of cum that had been smeared all across her mounds from their bout in the bathroom. It wasn’t just cum, he notices multiple drops of sweat which were being secreted from her skin. They mixed with his chode and created what was quite possibly a disgusting and completely uncomfortable paste to be squished by her breasts.

He could stare at these forever... And Violate was into it just as much as him; her breathing grew its steady pace to one much more noticeably aroused. Her thighs rubbed together from each moment she subtly shifted her position. For someone who hated the size of her tits, she certainly did enjoy the way he was gawking at them. It would be much better if her top was more revealing. His phone was restricting a large portion of his already limited view, the entire device had to be positioned down her top, but the way she arched forward did help a bit.

THUMP

They both jumped as the sound of the front door being kicked open knocked them out of their mutually aroused stupors.

The sudden jolt caused his phone to carelessly slip out of his hold, where it naturally fell down Violet’s top. She clearly noticed but was too busy trying to fix herself up to give a rat’s ass. As Trace fumbled to make it look like he was doing something, Violet was messing with her top and varied, obviously bouncing her jugs into a position that was natural.

Two sets of hard footsteps shuffled across the carpeted floor. There was a grunt, a softer huff, and then the loud sound of a box slamming onto the floor. While that happened, Trace and Violet wordlessly assumed their casual positions within the kitchen. As they did that, the sound from a singular set of footsteps grew louder; Trace pretended like he was washing dishes while Violet reclaimed her spot at the stove.

Just in time too. No more than a second later did Max poke his face in. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing much.” Violate responded casually. The sheer lack of emotion in those two words made Trace nearly double-take from the contrast compared to just a few moments earlier.

“Uh-Huh...” He said. “And you?” He asked Trace.

“I...”

“Whatever you’re up to, you can do it later. Help me outside, don’t make your sister do all the work.”

“I DON’T MINNND!!” Chloe’s cute voice rang out.

“Yeah yeah...” He rolled his eyes. “I know you don’t...” A second later, he pointed a finger towards Trace, moved it behind him, and mouthed the word, “Out!”

Trace sighed.

“Alright.”

Max nodded and left.

“Trace, wait.” Violet said before he could follow the man outside. When Trace turned around, he caught his busty sister right as she was in the process of pulling her sweater up over her hefty tits. They jiggled free within her huge bra, and his phone rested comfortably in her cleavage.

Instinctively speaking, he wanted to remove his phone from between her boobs himself, but before he could utter any words, she picked it up and handed it to him while her other hand held up her top. “Just look at them, please.”

Trace took his phone from her hands and gulped. Her breathing was heavy, and she kept licking her lips at irregular intervals. No doubt, the moment she has the time, she will do nothing but masturbate to the thought of him staring at her rack.

“Wh.. hey... what are you doing?” She sputtered; her eyes appeared to take a second to focus on what he was doing. Of course, he had his phone camera on and was about to take a picture of her for later use.

“Taking a—”

“God don’t.. just... just look, you don’t need a picture. You can look anytime.” Violet looked away in some flawed attempt to hide her blush. “When it’s just us...”

“Oh?” Trace lowered his phone. Of course, after taking a photo in secret. He had made her completely lust after the act of showing him her tits. She’d probably be willing to do a ton of shit just to get him to look. “I don’t know if I want to... I’m still a bit pissed you didn’t say anything to back me up there when Claire was upset.”

Violate stared at him in silence. Then, after a blink, she quickly said. “I’m sorry! I should have said something. Please just look at my boobs.”

“Eh. I don’t believe you.” Trace shrugged and turned around, leaving her there with one hand holding up her shirt while her second hand was teasing her crotch with a few fingers. “I need to go out and help Max.”

Right before he exited the kitchen, he glanced back at his bland-faced sister; who was currently showing a sign of desperation that was a completely new expression for her.

The pot on the stove was bubbling.

“Unless...” He said.

“What? Unless what?”

“You pour some of that drink.” He pointed to the pot containing Paige’s potion. “Into the stew.”

Violet appeared reasonably confused at his offer, “Why... uh..”

Without giving her a reason, Trace left. He could have convinced her to do it since she was heavily under the potion’s effect. But something about toying with her seemed more entertaining. She was always cold, flat, and tended to give zero fucks; this contrast was new and definitely something he’d like to delve more into. And this stew would be the perfect chance to give everyone a taste of what Paige’s handiwork has to offer...