﻿Tapes in the Attic

by Pan



Published: 2023-04-29
Updated: 2023-06-24
Packaged: 2024-02-16 23:01:49
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,535
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/TapesInTheAttic/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: A Japanese teenager accidentally hypnotizes his sister into submission.
Erotica Tags: in, mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4



	Chapter 1

The house was weird.

My grandparents are Japanese. I mean, duh. I’m Japanese, so you could probably have worked out that yes—it’s hereditary.

But I mean, like, my grandparents _live_ in Japan. They’re Japanese, whereas me and my sister are Japanese-American. And believe me, it’s very different.

Kim and I were raised here—first generation American. It means some Americans will never see us as American (I swear, some of them are still holding Pearl Harbor against us)...and _no_ Japanese will ever see us as Japanese.

Like my grandparents. Don’t get me wrong, they love us...but they’ve never even left Japan. We visited them twice as kids, and both trips were completely miserable. I didn’t realize it at the time, but our accents must have made us stick out like a sore thumb. Even our cousins kept their distance, treating us like total outsiders.

The architecture is the main thing I remember enjoying. Most people say the food, but...I dunno, it was just the same as what Mom and Dad made at home, so it didn’t really leave an impact.

But for me, it was the houses. I’m not a design nut or anything like that, but they just looked so different. I found the different buildings fascinating.

So when we moved, that was the first thing I noticed about the new house. It was weird; every other house nearby looked normal, and...well, I guess this one did too, for the most part. But as soon as I laid eyes on it, I couldn’t help but notice the slight curve to the roof, and that it was made of more wood than the neighboring houses.

And when we entered, sure enough, it even had a _genkan_ of sorts—a small mudroom, slightly lower than the rest of the ground floor. I glanced at my mother; I don’t think she’d even noticed, consciously.

It’s not that Mom is dumb, or anything like that. She’s just...not always the most observant woman. She gets tunnel vision, y’know?

Especially since Dad’s death.

I’m not trying to make this a boo-hoo, woe is me story, but...yeah, it’s pretty relevant. About six months ago, Dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I didn’t know anything about it at the time (other than that it sounded scary). Now, as you can imagine, I know a lot.

Turns out it sounds scary for a reason: it’s the fastest-killing cancer, if it’s not found early.

Dad’s wasn’t found early.

Less than two months later, he was gone. I literally didn’t know things could happen that fast—it seriously felt like one minute, he was sitting on the couch, complaining about the latest season of Better Call Saul...and the next, he was in a hospital bed, barely responsive.

He’d never see the final season of Better Call Saul. He’d never see us grow up. He’d never see whether we became doctors, as he hoped (and pressured us to), or...

Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve dealt with it, really. There was some talk about Kim and I seeing therapists, but Mom is very conservative, and I don’t think she really believes in that kind of thing. It’s not like Dad and I were super close—he was more open than Mom, but not by much. As a kid, I’d see my friends’ parents give them these big hugs and tell them how proud they were of them, but it was never like that with my parents.

I used to wonder what was wrong with me. Then I learned...we’re Japanese. That’s just sort of what we’re like.

Well, that’s what my parents are like.

Were. _Were_ like. I don’t have “parents” any more, just one. Singular: parent.

When Dad’s life insurance came in, Mom decided that we were moving. I think the old place had too many memories of Dad, so she picked us up and whisked us to the other side of town.

Like I said, I don’t think she was consciously aware that she’d picked a place with Japanese influence. My guess is that she found it comforting, subconsciously, to be in a place that reminded her of home.

I didn’t say anything. I glanced at my sister, Kim; she definitely didn’t notice. She’s completely clueless—again, not dumb. Just pretty self-absorbed.

As we stepped into the house, her eyes were glued to her phone. Playing that new Harry Potter version of Pokemon Go. She’s completely obsessed with Harry Potter, has been her whole life.

“Yess,” she said, a wide grin on her face. “This house is an inn!”

Mom and I just ignored her. Kim is two and a half years older than me, but people often say that I’m the mature one. My sister is a bit...I dunno, frivolous? And no, it has nothing to do with Dad dying. She’s always been like that.

Although, yeah, it definitely got a little worse when we were orphaned. Half-orphaned?

I guess it was just Kim’s way of coping, sinking deep into the world of United Wizards, (or whatever it’s called).

“Come on,” Mom said. It was there—it was always there. That slight catch in her voice, like she was right on the edge of breaking down.

She cried at least once a day. That might not sound like one, but you’ve got to understand—for a Japanese woman, that’s a _lot_. Mom probably cried like, once or twice in her adult life before Dad’s diagnosis.

She never cries in front of us, of course. She’ll mumble an excuse to leave the room, then practically tip-toe out. By the time she reappears, her face is clear, her smile bright.

But we knew what she was doing. Her eyes were till slightly red, her smile a little too forced, her body tense.

Mom led us through the house, pointing out the different rooms. Kim and I pretended to care. I mean, it wasn’t like we _didn’t_ care, but we had an unspoken agreement to stay positive, to make sure that we weren’t being a burden.

I should mention; the new house didn’t have, like, sliding doors or anything like that. It wasn’t like my grandparents’ house had been transplanted to the middle of Milwaukee.

But yeah, there were traces all over the place. I don’t know who built the place, but they were either Japanese or a total weebo.

When the tour was done, Kim and I picked our rooms, and the next two weeks were spent setting everything up.

Like I said, my sister is almost three years older than me. She’s in her second year of college...well, she was. She deferred, after Dad passed. Six months off, with a promise to Mom that she’d go back.

After the move. After some time to...y’know, process.

Mom hadn’t argued too hard. Our entire lives, she’d been the hardass, and Dad had been the soft one. I mean, by comparison. We still had all the pressures that come with first-generation immigrants. Even Dad was insistent that we do well in school, stay away from bad influences, eat right, keep the house spotless.

Other kids got allowances. We got summer classes.

Dad loved us, and he wanted us to succeed—but he didn’t micromanage us every step of the way. If Mom had her way, we would’ve had bedrooms with no doors. Dad let us sleep in on weekends, and even have friends over on a weeknight.

It might not sound like much, but trust me—some of my other friends were Japanese-American too. Even those small concessions were a _lot_.

But since Dad had passed, it was like Mom had...not “given up”, that’s not fair. But she’d definitely disconnected.

She hadn’t even asked me what schools I was applying to, something I’d been pressured to think about since _elementary_ school.

Kim is almost twenty-one, and way too cool to hang out with her dorky younger brother.

Not that I’m a dork. I’m the tallest in my family, and I play enough basketball to keep myself pretty fit. I like video games, but so does pretty much everyone on the varsity team, so I don’t think that counts.

But I was still surprised when my sister knocked on my door one Saturday morning and asked if I wanted to hang out.

“Me?” I responded sleepily—I’d been up late the previous night, playing Overwatch. Like I said, I’m a bit of a gamer, but it’s not my entire life. It’s just stress relief.

And a great distraction when I don’t want to think about Dad.

“Yeah, you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

I shot her a confused look. I don’t think my sister has ever approached me to hang out. Maybe she realized how unusual this was, because she looked at her feet.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she said quietly, and I nodded.

Kim and I hadn’t really talked about Dad. I mean, we’d talked, but just about...y’know, superficial stuff. When something reminded us of him, or what he would’ve said about a particular situation.

But that was it. We hadn’t gone deeper.

We didn’t talk about the fact that he was gone.

When Mom came home (she’d started going on these long walks every day) she found me and Kim in the kitchen, making pancakes. It was, like, the first American food that Dad had learned how to cook, so he’d made it for us all the time.

Like I said, Kim and I didn’t talk about Dad, but we remembered him in our own way.

“Look at you two, getting along,” she said with a smile. I shifted uncomfortably. We were, of course, but...I dunno. It felt weird that Mom was pointing it out. Like it was fine as long as no one drew attention to it.

“Barely,” my sister said, apparently sharing my discomfort.

“Yeah,” I grumbled. “There’s just nothing else to do around here.”

It was true. We’d moved what felt like half a world away from everyone we knew.

Mom raised one eyebrow, and a gleam appeared in her eyes.

Uh-oh. It was a look I’d seen on her face many times...although not for a while. Maybe it was a good sign that she was feeling bossy again.

Not good for _us_ , of course, but good in general.

“Well if you’re so bored,” she said, her accent thick (as it always was when she went into ‘Mom mode’), “maybe you want to clean out the attic?”

“No thanks,” I said, trying to sound casual. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kim shaking her head as well.

“No no,” Mom said. “Not asking.”

Kim and I shot each other a glance.

Great. This is what we got for refusing to admit that we were enjoying other’s company.

* * *

I hadn’t been up to the attic yet. The stairs leading up there were the kind where you had to pull a string to get them down, and...it’s not that I’m _afraid_ of heights, exactly. I just don’t see any reason to climb a set of flimsy stairs without a reason.

So thanks, Mom, for giving me a reason.

Kim started coughing as soon as we got upstairs. There were cobwebs everywhere and the lightbulb was busted. It smelled moldy and damp—and it was basically empty. There weren’t any boxes or furniture up there, just a few suitcases and some old clothes.

And one of those old televisions with the built-in tape player. The thing must have been ancient; I think we’d had a few video tapes when I was a baby, but Dad had been a technophile, and so as a kid I’d watched everything on DVD (and then Netflix).

The strangest thing is, it was plugged in. Like, the TV wasn’t just being stored up here—it was set up, ready to go. Except there wasn’t, like, a couch or anything. It was just pointing at the center of the attic, like you were expected to sit on the dusty floor and watch it.

“Weird,” I said, but my sister wasn’t looking. She was buried in her phone, Harrying Potters. As I watched, she wrinkled her nose.

“Damn it,” she said, looking around the small room. “We’re at the top of the house, how do I have no reception up here?”

“I dunno,” I shrugged, pulling one of the suitcases out. “C’mon. Let’s see what the guy who lived here before us was into.”

“Porn,” my sister replied, as I opened the suitcase. It had nothing in it but four VHS tapes. “He was into porn.”

“I don’t think these are porn,” I said, looking at the label. It was handwritten kanji: two characters, followed by a number—“2”.

Kim raised her eyebrows. “You a porn expert?” she asked, and my cheeks flushed.

“No,” I said, probably too emphatically. “But porn normally has a case, right?”

“Not if you’re trying to hide it,” Kim sniffed.

“This looks more like someone taped something off the TV.”

“Great,” my sister said. “We’ve found someone’s collection of recorded Seinfeld re-runs.

I threw her another one of the tapes. “You recognize this?”

“No,” she admitted. “I mean, that’s a three...”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“But I don’t know what the other words are.”

“Mom will probably know,” I said, putting the tapes back in the suitcase.

The rest of the attic’s haul wasn’t nearly as exciting. One of the suitcases was filled with old food and wine magazines, and another contained a bunch of encyclopedias from the 1980s. All in English.

The rest just had clothes; they looked like traditional Japanese clothes, a man’s and a woman’s.

“You should wear this,” I joked, throwing a geisha outfit at my sister. “Maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

“Gross,” she said, dropping the outfit. “Is that everything?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking at our haul. “You think any of it’s worth something?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. There’s a huge market for moldy magazines and ancient encyclopedias that nobody wants to read anymore.”

“Maybe they’re antiques,” I protested, picking up a magazine called ‘Taste of Home’. The cover promised to tell me how to make ‘the perfect tiramisu’.

“Put them on eBay,” Kim challenged. “See what you get.”

I glanced over the magazines again, immediately seeing her point. There was no way it’d even be worth the effort of trying.

My sister’s eyes drifted towards the pile of men’s clothing that we’d found. At the top of the pile was a grey suit and tie, and her features softened.

“Dad had an outfit like that,” she said softly. “I remember he wore it to my high school graduation.”

My sister turned away, but not before I saw the glint of tears appear in her eyes. For a moment, I hesitated. Should I say something? What could I possibly say?

Were we finally going to talk about it?

“It looks like we’re done here,” I said loudly, clapping my hands. “Wanna tell Mom?”

“She’ll just give us something else to do,” my sister said, and when she turned back to face me, her cheeks were puffy but dry.

“True.”

“I know what we can do,” she said, her forced smile reminding me of our mother’s. “Let’s watch some Seinfeld.“

“Or porn,” I said under my breath, as she picked up the tape labeled ‘1’ and inserted it into the TV.

As soon as she hit play, a look of pain appeared on my sister’s face. The screen showed nothing but static, but she stopped the tape straight away.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked, and I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t like my sister and I _never_ swore, of course, but...I dunno, Mom and Dad had always been pretty strict about language. It was weird to hear the word coming out of her mouth inside the house.

“What?” I asked, and she shot me a look.

“You didn’t hear that?”

“Hear...what?”

My sister narrowed her eyes, pressing play again while staring at me. She winced as the static played, and I just stared at her in bewilderment.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.

“You seriously can’t hear anything?”

Her voice was loud, like she was wearing headphones. I looked back between the TV and her, wondering if this was some kind of prank. A weird, weak prank that didn’t make any sense.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, and all of a sudden my sister relaxed.

“Oh,” she said happily. “It’s gone.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth when the TV came alive. It wasn’t Seinfeld—it looked like a home movie, filmed in black and white. Sort of like the video from The Ring, almost.

On the screen was a geisha, kneeling in front of the camera.

“Oh, shit,” I said quietly. “Maybe it _is_ porn.“

My sister didn’t say anything. Instead, to my surprise, she sat down on the dusty attic floor. It’s not like my sister is a neat freak or anything, but...yeah. I hadn’t been expecting that.

Kim sat cross-legged in front of the TV, leaning forward as the video continued. I couldn’t see her face, but I could tell that she was watching intently, like it was...I dunno, one of those new Harry Potter movies.

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, the geisha started talking. Her black hair was tied up in a bun adorned with flowers, and her skin (or her make-up, at least) was smooth as porcelain. Her lips were painted red, and she wore a brightly-colored kimono.

It took me a moment to realize: it was the same kimono I’d thrown at my sister earlier.

“That’s...—”

“Hello,” the woman on-screen said, interrupting me. The tone of her voice was strangely deep, and it resonated through the room. “My name is Kiki.”

“Hello, Kiki,” my sister chanted, and I laughed. She sounded like a kid watching an episode of Dora the Explorer.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, but my sister didn’t respond. I fell silent as the woman continued speaking, her voice coming out of the TV’s tiny, tinny speakers.

“Thank you for coming,” the woman said with a bow.

To my surprised, my sister bowed back. I hadn’t seen her bow since we’d last visited Japan, over a decade ago.

No, that’s not true. She’d bowed at my father’s funeral. Mom had insisted that we stand at the door, greeting everyone who entered. If someone bowed, Mom had bowed back. Kim, too.

“I am Kiki Shimada, geisha of Kyoto,” the woman continued. “I have chosen to present myself to you as the traditions of my people demand. You, too, will learn the ways of my people. You will learn much from these videos.”

Despite her appearance, the woman on-screen didn’t have a Japanese accent. It didn’t sound Midwestern, either—I couldn’t quite place it.

“Thank you, Kiki,” my sister responded, bowing once more.

“Kim?” I said. “Is this a joke? Why are you doing this?”

She didn’t respond, just kept watching the screen intently.

“These videos will teach you servitude,” Kiki continued. “The joys of submission. The pleasures of obedience. You will learn to kneel, and you will learn to beg. To obey your master.”

My eyes widened, and I stepped forward to look at my sister’s face. She’s not the most ardent of feminists, but...yeah, I knew she wouldn’t be okay with this. Like, what woman would, in 2021?

And sure enough, a flicker of resistance crossed my sister’s face. I could tell that she wasn’t comfortable with what the woman on the tape was saying, but she was still staring at the screen as though hypnotized.

“This submission wil fulfill you,” Kiki continued. “It will bring you happiness. Your life will be filled with joy, your body and mind will become one. This is a promise.”

Again, I glanced at my sister. She still looked uncomfortable at the words coming from the geisha’s mouth, from the tiny speakers on the ancient TV...but she didn’t turn away.

Instead, as though someone had grabbed her cheeks and forced a reaction, she nodded.

“You will obey,” Kiki said, her voice calm and confident. “You will submit. You will kneel. And you will beg.”

My sister was trembling now, as though part of her wanted to get up and leave, wanted to storm down the flimsy stairs and never return to the attic—but she couldn’t.

And she didn’t.

“Do you understand?” Kiki asked.

“Yes,” my sister replied, her voice shaking. “Yes, I...I understand.”

“Good girl,” Kiki said. “You will obey. Say it.”

“I...I will obey,” Kim replied, and she sat back down on the dusty attic floor. I hadn’t even realized that she’d started to get up.

“You will submit. Say it.”

“I will submit,” my sister replied, her voice calmer.

“You will kneel,” Kiki instructed, a steely tone in her voice. It was the kind of voice that demanded obedience. “Kneel for me, now.”

My eyebrows shot up as my sister did as she was told. I watched, still not sure if this was some kind of elaborate prank, as Kim knelt down on the floor, her head bowed, her eyes turned upwards so she could watch the screen.

“And now,” Kiki commanded firmly, “you will beg. Beg to learn the ways of the geisha. Beg for me to teach you how to unlock the submission inside you that will make you happy.”

“Please, Kiki,” my sister said, and I was surprised by the hint of desperation in her voice. “I want to learn. I want to learn how to serve.”

“Repeat after me,” the geisha continued, “and you shall be rewarded with the greatest pleasure your master can offer.”

“Yes, Kiki,” my sister chanted, a slight moan in her voice. “I will do whatever you command.”

“There is no greater pleasure than to please your master.”

I couldn’t do anything but watch, stunned, as my sister echoed the video’s words back. “There is no greater pleasure than to please my master.”

“You were born to serve. To live is to serve.”

“Kim—”

“I was born to serve,” my sister cooed. “To live is to serve.”

“You exist to serve men.”

“I exist to serve men.”

I took a step forward, my body shaking. My heart was pounding, and I felt dizzy. This wasn’t normal behavior. Even for a joke, I knew my sister would never go this far.

It’s not like she’s a bra-burning feminist or something, but...this wasn’t Kim. She’d always been independent. Like, she’d once told me that she hated the way Mom always did the dishes, even on nights when she’d cooked.

And yet, here she was, kneeling on the floor, her head bowed and her eyes fixed on the TV.

I stood behind her. “Kim,” I said, shaking her shoulder.

It was like I wasn’t even there.

“Kim!” I repeated, louder. “This isn’t funny.”

My sister didn’t respond, and the voice on the screen continued.

“In life, it is the duty of a woman to please her master.”

“In life, it is the duty of a woman to please her master.”

I could see my sister’s face, now. It was expressionless as it stared at the small screen, her eyes bright as she repeated the lines back.

“You will kneel before your master. You will do as he commands.”

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

I considered shaking her again, but I knew there was no point. The only thing I could do was turn off the video, stop this insanity.

But as I stepped towards the TV, I noticed something.

I was hard as a rock.

I should be clear—I’ve never had any attraction to my sister before. Even if I’d ever noticed her body (which I haven’t), I probably would’ve told you that she wasn’t my type. She’s short—really short. And skinny. And it’s not like she isn’t cute; she actually has a pretty face. She’s got a light dusting of freckles, and dark brown eyes that always seem to be looking at you.

But I’ll admit it—in that moment, she looked hot as hell. Every inch of her body was tense, like she didn’t want to miss a word coming out of Kiki’s mouth. Her skin was flushed, and I was suddenly aware of how much skin her shorts and top showed off.

“You will submit to your master,” Kiki’s voice continued. “Alone, you are nothing. But with him, you will find purpose you never dreamed possible. He will give you purpose. He _is_ your purpose.“

“I will submit to my master,” my sister echoed, and I looked at her eyes as she spoke. They were wide open, trying to absorb every lesson coming from the small television. “Alone, I am nothing. But with him, I will find purpose I never dreamed possible. He will give me purpose. He _is_ my purpose.“

God, why was that so hot?

It shouldn’t have been, right? It shouldn’t have been a turn-on to watch my sister kneel on the dusty attic floor, drinking in everything the video had to offer.

She was my _sister_.

“You will kneel before your master,” Kiki said firmly. “You will do as he commands.”

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

I was convinced that she wasn’t faking. Not only did my sister not have the imagination for a prank like this, it just wasn’t her style. She wasn’t a prude, exactly, but...well, I knew she’d never had a boyfriend. Our parents had said that in exchange for them paying for college, we weren’t allowed to date until we graduated.

“You will do as he commands.”

“I will do as he commands.”

“Your body exists to serve him.”

“My body exists to serve him.”

The comment forced me to evaluate my sister’s body. Like I said, short and skinny. Not my type—I’m more into, I dunno. Christina Hendricks. Tall, redheaded, busty.

But as my eyes travelled down my sister’s form, I had to admit...maybe I’d been judging her a little too hastily. She was in pretty good shape, after all. She jogged regularly (it apparently helped her with the Harry Potter thing) and had a nice curve to her hips.

Her stomach was flat, but it was soft. She had a small, pouty ass, and her legs were long and smooth. Her breasts were small, but she wasn’t wearing a bra under her tank-top, and I could see that they were round and firm.

I blinked twice. I absolutely shouldn’t have been looking at my sister like this. She was my _sister_. I needed to turn the tape off, snap her out of it, and then...I dunno, burn them.

But as I took another step forward, the voice said something that made me pause.

“Your master stands beside you.”

“My master stands beside me,” my sister gasped, her eyes flicking over to me for just a moment.

I froze. Had...had the tape just named me as Kim’s master?

In a moment, I could see it. I could see my sister, unquestioningly obeying my commands. Doing as I said.

I could see her kneeling at my feet, just as she was now, waiting for my command.

I know how wrong that is. Even in that moment, I knew how wrong it was. But...my cock was hard, and I was breathing heavily, and I was staring at my own sister’s body. My sister, kneeling on the dusty attic floor, pledging her commitment to me. To serving my needs.

Pledging to obey her master.

“Your master will take care of you.”

“My master will take care of me,” my sister echoed, her voice strained.

“You exist for your master’s pleasure.”

“I exist for my master’s pleasure.”

“You are his,” the video continued.

“I am his,” Kim whispered in response, and the tape ended.

* * *

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	Chapter 2

I just watched, hard as a rock, as my sister continued kneeling in front of the TV. Neither of us said anything; I just watched her, noticing the swell of her breasts as she breathed, the slight tremble in her hands, the softness of her lips as she silently repeated the lessons that the video had taught her.

“Kim,” I finally said, my voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, master,” my sister said, a moan in her voice. “I will do as you command.”

I blinked twice. Surely it couldn’t...she wouldn’t...

“You’re sure? You don’t need to...”

“Yes, master,” my sister said. “I am ready to serve you.”

“Stand,” I ordered, and Kim obeyed. Her head was still bowed, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“Kneel,” I instructed, and Kim did as I commanded, her knees touching the carpet.

“Hands behind your back,” I added, and Kim followed my instructions, pulling her arms behind her back.

I took a deep breath. “Turn around,” I ordered.

My sister complied, shuffling her knees as she slowly rotated, keeping her eyes on the floor.

How far could I push this? How much of this would she remember? How long would the effects of the tape last?

I wanted to tell her to strip. I wanted to tell her to expose her body to me. I’d never seen a naked woman before, and Kim was...look, I know she was my sister, but she was so willing. So eager to please me.

So keen to obey her master.

I leaned against the attic wall, my eyes travelling up and down my sister’s body. She would strip if I told her to, I was confident of that—the tape had commanded her to obey, and I was certain that she wanted to.

She wanted to obey.

But for how long? And would she remember what we’d done?

What if it wore off, and she told Mom? What if it wore off and she told everyone?

I glanced at the suitcase. This tape was one of four. If this was the only one required, if this was enough to turn anyone into a willing, obedient sex slave...why would there be three more in the series?

No. No, I couldn’t risk it.

Not without knowing more.

“Stand on one leg,” I instructed, and Kim obeyed.

“Hands above your head,” I ordered, and Kim did as I asked.

“Bend over.”

Kim slowly bent forward, wobbling slightly but maintaining her balance. I walked behind her, taking the opportunity to check my sister out. Her small, pert breasts, pushing against the fabric of her black tanktop. Were her nipples hard? I couldn’t tell, but I suddenly wanted to know.

I couldn’t believe my sister was doing this. Hell, I couldn’t believe _I_ was doing this.

“Come closer,” I ordered.

Kim did as she was told, slowly shuffling forward on a single leg, moving forward until she was directly beside me. Her hands were still above her head, and her head hung low, eyes on the floor.

“Hands on my shoulders,” I ordered, and my sister complied.

I reached up and grabbed hold of her wrist. She didn’t resist.

“Tell me what you want,” I said softly, using my other hand to tilt her head up until she was looking into my eyes. I’ve never seen someone look so desperate, so needy.

“Master,” my sister whimpered. “Please...”

“Tell me,” I repeated.

“I want to obey,” Kim said in a whine. “Please. T-tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” I asked, letting go of her wrist and grabbing hold of her chin instead.

“Anything!” Kim cried out, her voice trembling like Mom’s did right before she left the room.

“Good girl,” I said, and my eyes widened as Kim began shaking.

It took me a moment to realize what was happening. At first, I thought it was a seizure. That the tapes—and my commands—had broken my sister’s brain.

For a moment, I thought that I’d killed her.

But then I realized: She was shivering in delight. She was cumming.

Just from being told she was a good girl, my sister was cumming.

I watched as her entire body shook, her mouth hanging open, gasping for breath as her orgasm overtook her. The smell of her arousal was strong in the air, and her eyes were glazed over, her breathing heavy.

And then she collapsed.

For the second time in a minute, I had a moment of panic, thinking I’d killed my sister. I knelt down in front of her, concerned—Kim looked up at me, her expression one of utter adoration. “Th-thank you, master,” my sister groaned, before her expression went completely blank.

The room was silent except for the hiss of the TV, and it was several moments before Kim blinked twice, looking up at me like I was a weirdo.

“What?” she asked. Her submissive tone was gone; she sounded like herself again. An expression of fear must have appeared on my face, because her brow wrinkled. “What??”

“I, uh...”

I didn’t know what to say. How do you explain to your sister that she just got hypnotized by a video tape, pledged her servitude, and came when you complimented her?

I’ll tell you how: you don’t.

“S-sorry,” I stammered. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” my sister replied, looking at me like I had just asked her if she liked green eggs and ham. There was a pause, and her eyes opened. “Oh!”

“Oh?”

“Oh, you mean...”

Her face softened. “You want to talk about Dad?”

My eyes widened. “No!”

A look of embarrassment appeared on Kim’s face, and I continued speaking without pause.

“I mean, I mean—no, thanks. I, um, we should...we should see if Mom needs anything else.”

Before I knew it, I was downstairs, not even noticing how flimsy the stairs were as I clambered down them.

When I got back to my room, I stood with my back against the door, breathing heavily. Fuck! What had just happened?

It felt like it had all been a dream. My sister, staring mindlessly at the screen. Repeating the lines that the tape gave her like a drone.

Obeying my commands.

Cumming, when I told her she was a good girl.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d seen my sister cum. I knew what Kim looked like when she orgasmed.

The way she moans, the way her body shakes, how her eyes roll back in her head with pleasure. It was unreal. Unbelievable.

And hot as hell.

My dick was rock-hard. I closed my bedroom door (Mom had taken the locks off straight after we moved in. Kim and I were adults, but she still treated us like children) and lay down on my bed.

There was a risk that my sister would come in, but fuck it. My balls felt like they were going to explode, and I needed relief.

I ran my fingers through my hair, then unbuttoned my pants. I pulled my cock free of my underwear, watching my shaft twitch as I touched myself. I stroked gently at first; I couldn’t remember ever being this hard.

“I will obey.”

My sister’s words ran through my head, the look of absolute obedience on her face. Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape.

“I will obey,” she said in my imagination. “I will do whatever you say, master.”

“I’m here for your pleasure.”

I groaned. I was getting close. I could feel it, I was almost there.

“Please, master,” Kim begged. My hips were bucking, my cock throbbing against my fist. “Please...cum on me. Cum on your big sister.”

With a cry, I came. A wave of heat washed over me as my release burst out of me, the cum splashing against my stomach. My legs trembled, my fists clenched, my back arched.

I collapsed onto my bed, panting. Fuck...I don’t think I’d ever cum that hard in my life.

I wiped my hand across my belly, feeling the sticky mess that coated my skin, before the guilt set in.

Fuck. Fuck! I’d just cum, thinking about my sister. I’d just gotten myself off, imagining my own flesh and blood.

A few moments ago, that had been so hot. So taboo. But now, in a moment of post-orgasm clarity, I felt dirty.

Not only that, but...I’d let her watch that tape. I’d done nothing as a mysterious tape hypnotized my sister, making her beg to obey me.

Making her cum.

As I closed my eyes, I could see it, just as clearly as I had a few moments earlier. The look on Kim’s face as I’d told her she was a good girl, as she’d moaned with pleasure as she came.

What would my Dad think if he saw what I’d done?

That was the thought that really sobered me up. An image of Dad, looking disappointed at me. If he knew what I’d done...if _anyone_ knew what I’d done.

Yeah. It wasn’t okay. None of it was okay.

As I pictured Dad’s expression, I realized...from the moment the tape had started until my sister had brought him up, I hadn’t thought about Dad once.

It wasn’t like I was obsessed, it just...y’know, came up a lot. You only get one father, and he’d only been gone a few months. I’m pretty sure it was normal that everywhere I turned, I saw a reminder of him.

That was why we’d moved, I knew. Being reminded of Dad was bad for me and Kim, but for Mom...

Yeah. She hadn’t been able to deal with it.

But all the time my sister had been watching the video, obeying my orders, I hadn’t thought about my dad once. It was like when I played Overwatch, or any of those games. It took me out of myself. It allowed me escape the grief.

I sighed. I didn’t know what that meant. Did it mean anything?

Maybe I did need therapy. Masturbating while thinking about your sister wasn’t normal, I was sure of that. Of course, neither was finding mysterious tapes that made her kneel in front of you and pledge her allegiance...

* * *

I didn’t see Kim again until later that night. Mom didn’t end up finding any other tasks for us, so I just spent the day in my room, watching YouTube videos of people playing basketball.

I came downstairs for dinner—my parents were big “we eat together” people, and Mom had continued the tradition even after...even now.

“Hey,” Kim said, looking at me like nothing was unusual.

Like I hadn’t watched her cum, just a few hours earlier.

“Hey,” I replied cautiously, not sure if she was going to suddenly remember what we’d done and freak out.

She just shot me a smile, and we sat down to eat.

Dinner was quiet; it was a meal Mom cooked all the time— _yakisoba_ , Kim’s favorite.

We didn’t talk much, so it took me most of the meal to notice. Twice, Mom asked Kim for something—to pass the vinegar, or pour her some tea.

Both times, my sister obeyed immediately, without hesitation. Nothing unusual about that. Mom’s requests weren’t exactly draconian; I would’ve done the same if she’d asked me.

What was odd was the look on Kim’s face. I don’t think Mom noticed—I only did because I was watching my sister so closely, trying to make sure she didn’t suspect anything.

After Kim obeyed Mom’s polite requests, she blushed. The second time, she bit her lip.

And both times, her eyes glazed over with lust.

Apparently the video’s instructions hadn’t faded after my sister’s orgasm. She may not have remembered what happened, but apparently the commands were still there, telling her to be obedient. Submissive.

Telling her how much she loved to obey.

Once dinner was over and my plate was cleared away, my sister got up and headed upstairs. I sat at the table, torn.

On one hand, I...I already felt so guilty about what we’d done. What I’d done. Kim was my sister; yeah, she could sometimes be a bit of a pest, but I was meant to look after her. She was family, y’know?

On the other hand...

Well, truth be told, there wasn’t another hand. The first hand was holding every relevant piece of information. It was all completely clear. Kim was my sister, end of story. What we’d done already was completely immoral. Doing anything else was unthinkable.

There wasn’t another hand. Or if there was, it was between my legs, wrapped around my erection. Metaphorically, I mean.

I knew I shouldn’t do anything to take advantage of my sister’s artificaly-induced submission. I _couldn’t_. It would be so, so wrong.

But my dick thought otherwise.

Well, I’m proud to say, my dick lost that battle. After almost half an hour of wrestling with my conscience, I didn’t follow my sister to her room. I didn’t experiment, learn how she’d react to being told what to do.

See if she’d cum again if I called her a good girl.

Instead, I went to bed, and dreamt of what would’ve happened if I had.

* * *

For the next week, I...god, I couldn’t help but notice. It wasn’t like she was super obvious about it, or anything—like I said, Mom didn’t notice a thing.

But every time someone told Kim what to do, she’d scurry to obey. She’d immediately follow every order she was given, and that look would appear on her face.

The look she’d had when she came.

I say ‘someone’—really, it was just Mom. I’d never really noticed before how bossy my mother was. A dozen times a day, she’d ask (“ask”) me and my sister to do little things for her, stuff that she probably could’ve done herself.

Was she like this with Dad? I had never noticed.

A strange feeling appeared in my gut as I realized that I’d never know. Dad was...he was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Anything I hadn’t noticed while he was gone, I’d never have another chance to notice.

I shook my head, and tried not to think about it.

The first time, it was an accident. I swear. I’d been on the other side of the room, and I’d asked her without thinking.

“Hey Kim, could you turn on the lights?”

She’d been entering the room where I’d been on my phone, but even in the dim lighting (the sun had gone down while I’d been reading reddit, desperately trying to distract myself from the feelings I knew I shouldn’t be having) I saw it.

The look of lust on her face. The way her entire body shivered, like someone had just run their fingers up her spine.

The expression of desire as she obeyed me.

It was more obvious than it had been with Mom. With Mom, it had been more like...I dunno, like someone had offered her a sip of their milkshake.

When she leapt to obey me, it was like someone had given her a hot fudge sundae with everything.

There was just this look of _satisfaction_ , of pure bliss on her face.

As she obeyed her master.

I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen it, tried to tell my cock that I was imagining things. But when the lights came on, there was no denying it. I reckon even Mom would’ve noticed something if she’d seen Kim’s face in that moment.

I couldn’t help myself. I mean, I should have. I should’ve said nothing, just turned back to my phone.

But I didn’t. Instead, I said it—two short, simple words.

“Thank you.”

Kim’s eyes fluttered, and I swear, she had a like...mini-orgasm. Her her breathing deepened, her lips parted, and she looked at me and just...smiled.

She smiled, and my cock almost burst out of my pants.

“You’re welcome,” she said demurely, and there was a skip in her step as she left the room.

That was it. “Can you turn the lights on?” “Thank you,” “You’re welcome.” Ten words that sealed my fate. Our fates.

Ten words that set me down a path that I couldn’t come back from.

I jerked off again that night, something I’d avoided since the attic. I hadn’t wanted an image of my sister to unexpectedly pop into my mind as I did, y’know?

But after seeing her reaction to such a simple request, I couldn’t stop myself. I replayed that moment as I wrapped my fist around my cock, remembering what my sister had looked like. What she’d sounded like. The moan in her voice, the lust in her eyes...

I tried to tell myself that I was just getting it out of my system, that this was it, that after tonight I’d never think about it again. But for the rest of the week, I kept jerking off to that scene. My heart pounded in my chest as I came, night after night, spurting white cream onto my stomach as I pictured how much pleasure my sister got out of obedience.

How much pleasure she got out of obeying me.

By the end of the week, I felt like I was going crazy. During the day, I was avoiding my sister, afraid of inadvertently giving her another command, another instruction that she’d blush with pleasure while she obeyed.

Each night, I was rubbing one out while imagining exactly that. Imagining the look on Kim’s face as I told her to kneel, to serve me, to fulfill her purpose.

As I told her she was my good girl.

On Friday night, I decided I couldn’t take it any longer. My dick had lost the earlier battle, but it had won he war. I knocked on my sister’s door, walking in before she could answer. Before I could talk myself out of it.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I found: my sister, kneeling on the floor. She wasn’t on her phone, she wasn’t reading anything. She was just kneeling, like that was how she was most comfortable.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Oh hi,” she said, looking up at me with a smile. My cock was already hard, but I’d tucked it into my waistband so she couldn’t tell.

“H-hi,” I said. She didn’t make any move to stand, and both of us blushed at what was happening. My sister, kneeling submissively in front of me. In front of her brother.

In front of her master.

As Kim continued smiling at me, I realized that I didn’t have a plan. Not really.

“Stand up,” I ordered, and Kim’s eyes lit up as she obeyed. She was wearing a very similar outfit to what she’d worn in the attic; a pair of shorts that showed off her legs, and a white tank top that hugged her small breasts. I took a moment to admire her body once more; she was slender, but with nice curves. Feminine without being busty.

She wasn’t my type, I tried to remind myself. I liked white women with huge chests. But I’d just spent a week jerking off while thinking about my sister’s body, and it was getting harder to remember what my type _was_.

My sister trembled with pleasure as I stared at her small round breasts, her flat stomach, those wonderful legs that seemed to go on for miles.

“Kneel down again,” I instructed breathlessly, and Kim complied immediately, taking a knee in front of me once more.

I could have done that all night, just instructed my sister to stand and kneel, watched her blush deepen each time she did.

But I wanted more. I needed more. I’d been so cautious in the attic, and a litany of unanswered questions had been running through my mind ever since.

What if I asked her to do more? What...what would my sister do, if ordered?

“Stand up,” I ordered, enjoying the shiver of pleasure that went through my sister’s body as she obeyed. “Come here.”

Kim moved forward until she was standing directly in front of me, so close that I could practically feel her breath. I didn’t know what to do...I’d never been with a woman, I’d never so much as kissed a girl. My sister couldn’t be my first kiss, could she? What if I did it wrong?

What if she rejected me?

“Are you wearing a bra?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer, and a look of confusion passed over my sister’s face.

“N-no?” she replied.

Crap. Had the question been too sexual? Too weird?

Or was it because I’d asked a question, instead of giving a command? Kim craved submission and obedience, but maybe that didn’t include...I dunno, interrogation.

“Tell me what day it is,” I ordered, and the look was back. It was almost like drowsiness, like when my sister was told what to do part of her mind switched off.

Maybe it did. Maybe it was like my battle with my cock—in order for my sister to go against her self-confident nature, her brain had to give up control to her pussy.

Or maybe it was just that if she were just following orders, she didn’t have to think. She only had to obey.

My cock twitched at the thought.

“Friday,” she replied breathily, and I smiled.

“Good girl.”

She didn’t cum. I don’t know if it was because she’d followed so few orders, or if last time she’d still been under the direct thrall of the tape, or hell—maybe she’d just gotten off before I came in, and the kneeling was a post-orgasm thing.

But unlike in the attic, my sister didn’t cum when I called her a good girl.

That’s not a complaint, to be clear. Her response to my compliment was still pretty damn hot.

Kim’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a silent gasp. Her entire body was flushed now, and her nipples were hard little nubs poking through the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Tell me what color your panties are,” I asked, my voice hoarse. Kim’s eyes widened, and I saw a silent struggle take place inside her mind. “That’s...that’s an order.”

She caught her breath at that, closing her eyes as though her response to my words was overwhelming her, like that simple phrase was too hot to handle.

But after a few moments, they opened again, staring into mine.

“N-no,” she said, sounding like it was an intense effort to get the word out. She looked like she had when first listening to the tape, when she’d managed to start standing up. “No. I...I can’t.”

“Kim...” I began, but my sister set her jaw, looking more like herself than she had all week.

“No,” she said again, putting her hand on my arm and firmly guiding me to the door. “I’m sorry, b-but...no.”

She closed the door behind me, and I looked back at it, stunned.

Shit.

* * *

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	Chapter 3

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

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

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

The tape was only one of three, after all.

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

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

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

I know I hadn’t.

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

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

We’re not built like that.

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

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

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

“To live is to serve.”

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

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

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

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

Pledging her submission to me.

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Excited to obey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

Tape #2.

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

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

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

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

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

But she would.

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

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

She was going to obey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To please me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I will enjoy it.”

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

Finally, I broke the silence.

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

Masterly.

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

Her shorts were wet, I realized.

She was aroused.

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

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

“That’s an order.”

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

But instead, she shivered in pleasure, and nodded.

My sister nodded, and slowly began to undress.

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

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

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

She was lovely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wet.

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

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

As my erection came into view.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I wasn’t worried.

I was in charge.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!—


	Chapter 4

I didn’t say anything, just watched as my sister’s tongue (had it always been this long?) explored the outside of her mouth, swallowing my cum and licking her skin clean.

She never broke eye-contact as she did, staring at me as she cleaned herself, a look of worship in her eyes.

When her tongue could no longer find any cum to lick, she broke eye-contact, licking her lips as she looked down at her body. Kim let out a small squeal of excitement (as though she’d just found a butterbeer or whatever) at the sight of my semen coating her body. Her small hands began scooping it up, bringing it to her mouth hungrily.

Neither of us said a word as Kim excitedly swallowed my load, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. For several minutes, I just watched as my sister cleaned her skin of my cum, her cheeks bulging as she enthusiastically gulped down what was (I assumed) the first cum she’d ever tasted.

Mine. My cum. My sister’s first time tasting a man’s seed was cleaning her brother’s load off her body, after being hypnotized and told to strip. After I’d jerked off onto her hypnotized, pliant body.

She didn’t even know what had happened. She hadn’t even been awake when I’d…when I’d jerked off on to her.

God, what had I done?

I’d just cum onto my sister’s body. My sister’s naked, hypnotized body. I’d seen her as no brother should. I’d…I’d done to her what no one should ever do to their own family.

And I’d liked it.

Not just me, either. Kim had clearly liked it as well. Even after she’d awoken, she hadn’t freaked out—she’d been excited.

As I watched her swallowing my cum, she looked up at me obediently. Submissively. Still naked, of course.

Naked, but now she was awake.

And as Kim moved the last of my cum to her mouth, I realized I was hard again.

Did she…did she like it? I mean, even if we’d never started watching these tapes together—did women actually like the taste of men’s cum? Had Kim fantasized about swallowing a man’s seed, in the same way as I’d jerked off countless times at the idea of a woman eating mine?

Not Kim, of course. Not my sister.

At least, not until recently.

Or was none of this real? Was my sister like my mom; a prude, through and through? Perhaps she’d welcomed Dad’s ban, and was dreading the moment she had to start dating, to do anything sexual with a man?

It didn’t matter, not really. Not any more.

Not now that I had the tapes.

The idea of my eye being caught by anything other than Kim eagerly sucking down my seed might sound ridiculous, but I couldn’t help but glance over at the tapes. We were only halfway through the set, and my sister was already naked, happily moving my cum to her mouth and slurping it down.

What on earth could be on the two remaining tapes?

When Kim was done cleaning her self off, she looked at me again with love in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes glassy, but her expression ecstatic.

“Kim....” I said. “I...”

“Yes, master?” she replied, when it was clear that I had no follow-up.

“I love you,” I finally said.

“I know, master.” She smiled softly. “I love you too.”

That might not sound like much, but...well, we’re Japanese. In a way, that short exchange was more significant than anything else that had happened that day.

I think I surprised both of us with my next commands. “Stand up,” I ordered. “Get dressed.”

Kim did as I commanded, her face showing a mix of pleasure and confusion. Pleasure at being told what to do, and confusion at why I wasn’t asking for more.

And as she dressed, she began muttering. I don’t even think she realized she was doing it.

“My master is my world,” she intoned. “He has the right to control me. He has the right to order me to pleasure him.”

As my sister redressed, I tucked my erection back into my pants—it throbbed with arousal at the sound of her words, as she mindlessly chanted the orders she’d just learned from the tape.

“To please master is my purpose. I live to pleasure him. I exist to serve my master. To serve him sexually is my purpose.”

She shot me another disappointed look as she put on the last of her clothes. In just half an hour, Kim had gone from zero interest in seeing my cock to craving it, despairing at the sight of me putting it away.

“Go downstairs,” I ordered, and Kim bowed in obedience. “Do...do whatever you were going to do today anyway.”

I know what you’re wondering. I was hard, my sister was naked—why not take advantage of the situation? Why not fuck her? Lose my virginity, and take hers at the same time? Or have her suck my cock?

At the very least, I could have cum onto her naked, kneeling body again. While she was conscious, this time—her eyes lustfully watching my hand as I masturbated, her tongue licking her lips as she anticipated tasting my seed again, getting to swallow whatever landed in her mouth, then clean the rest up again.

But...I couldn’t.

I mean, I _could_ have. My cock, in particular, would have liked nothing more than to find release a second time, to finally feel a woman’s touch. Even if it was my sister.

But I didn’t. And as my sister left the small attic, her narrow hips swaying, clearly trying to attract my attention, I couldn’t help but feel...relief.

I needed time to process what was going on before I did anything else. Before I did anything I couldn’t undo.

Before I did anything Dad would have disapproved of.

It was more than half an hour before I made my way downstairs. By the time I reached the kitchen, Kim was sitting at the table, sipping some tea.

“Hi,” she said, shooting me a submissive smile. Honestly, I didn’t know a smile could be submissive until I saw it appear on my sister’s face.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yes, master,” she said, her voice soft and low. I held up one hand, the irritation clear on my face. “I am here to serve you. I am here to please you.”

“No,” I said, harsher than I’d meant to—a look of hurt appeared on Kim’s face, and she quickly bowed her head.

“I’m sorry, master.”

I sighed, and did what I could to relax my tone. “No, I...I’m sorry. I just...”

I took another deep breath, and tried another tack. “Kim,” I said, my voice as commanding as I could make it. My sister looked up, practically swooning at the way I’d said her name, and I stared directly into her eyes as I continued. “I want you to...I want to make sure you’re okay with this.”

“Okay with what, master?”

Every time she called me that, it was like a pulse of pleasure went through her body.

Not just hers, honestly.

“With...with this!” I said, gesturing wildly. My sister was still smiling, looking at me with affection, like I was a dumb kid who’d just walked into the house covered in mud.

“Master, I don’t understand,” Kim replied.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t either, to be honest. What had happened just seemed so...so unreal. All we’d done was watch a video. Two.

Two videos, and my sister’s entire attitude towards me had changed. With a word—a gesture!—she’d fall to her knees. She’d strip naked, and suck my cock.

And more...

So what on earth did the last two tapes do?

“Kim,” I said, trying again. “Are you...are you okay with what we did earlier?”

“What do you mean, sir?” she asked, and that time I caught it. The hint of mischief in her voice.

She could see how uncomfortable I was with...with everything. She could see that I was struggling. And, in the classic older sister way, she’d decided to tease me a little. Toy with me.

Humiliate me.

Anger rose up in my chest, and the words came out before I could stop them.

“Kneel,” I barked. Kim’s eyes went wide and she did as she was told, dropping to her knees in front of me.

“I will kneel before my master,” she said breathlessly. “I will do as he commands.”

I reached down and grabbed her face, my eyes burning into hers. “Who am I?”

“My...my master,” Kim gasped. She was writhing—not to get out of my grip, but with pleasure.

It was obvious that my sister liked me taking control like this.

“And what are you?”

“I’m...your slave, master.” She didn’t look away. She didn’t try to pull away. Her eyes were locked onto mine, and the heat of our gaze blistered.

“Who owns you?”

My voice was quieter, but still firm. Kim’s voice trembled slightly as she replied.

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

I nodded, but my sister continued, her voice getting higher and more fervent as the words spilled out of her. “I am here to serve you. I am here to please you. Every part of me belongs to you. I am a tool for my master’s sexual pleasure. To please master is my purpose. I wish to pleasure him. To feel my body responding to his touch. His fingers on my breasts. His hands on my pussy. I cannot help myself, I want to be used.”

She was shaking as she spoke, tears streamed down her cheeks—not of pain or fear, but of joy. I let go of her face, not sure how to respond, but my sister wasn’t done yet. “I will give my master pleasure. I will serve him with my body. I will do anything he asks of me, and I will enjoy it. I am geisha.”

I had two reactions at once, of equal strength. One was horror, of course. Like I said, just a few days ago, my sister had been...well, normal. Obnoxious, sure. Undisciplined, a little lazy. A brat.

The tapes had been maybe half an hour each, at most. An hour in the attic, and she’d been transformed. Her mind had been rewritten, my sister reprogrammed...to serve me. To submit to my every command.

To worship me.

And my other reaction? In a word: Arousal.

Despite having just cum thirty minutes earlier, I was hard as a rock. The sight of my sister, crying with joy at the thought of serving me, had sent a jolt through my cock like nothing else. The sight of tears running down to her chin, her pupils dilated with joy as she pledged her utter submission to me. As she unknowingly parroted the words from the tapes.

It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

“Kim,” I gasped, and my sister turned her attention to me, looking up obediently.

Looking up at her master.

“Are...are you sure this is what you want?” I said, already knowing what the answer was. Already knowing that I couldn’t trust it.

Sure enough, my sister delivered.

“Yes,” she said simply, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’ve never wanted anything so much. I was born to serve. To live is to serve. There is no greater pleasure than to please my master.”

I should have walked away. I should have realized that what I was doing—what we were doing—was wrong. So wrong. Even though Kim’s words were spoken with such sincerity, the most enthusiastic of consent, they...they weren’t real. They weren’t her words.

Two tapes, less than an hour, and my sister had gone from being a disobedient brat to my submissive, willing sex toy.

It was horrifying. It was morally repugnant.

And I’d never been so hard in my life.

“Kim,” I groaned, and without me having to say a word, my sister knew what I wanted. What my body wanted.

What her master’s cock desired.

Her grin returned, that look of naughty mischief. This time it wasn’t at my expense. This time, it was pleasure with what she knew I wanted. What we were about to do.

On some level, neither of us wanted it. If we’d never found those tapes, if Mom had never asked us to clean out the attic, none of this would never have happened. Neither of us would ever have considered the other in a sexual light. We would have been repulsed by the idea of it. Hell, part of me still was.

But the fact was, we _had_ found the tapes. We’d both been changed, forever. And now, we both needed it. Both of us craved the touch of the other.

My sister wanted to serve me. And in that moment, god damn it, I wanted to let her.

Without a word, my sister unfastened my jeans. She tugged them down, revealing my boxers, tented by my growing cock. Without a word, Kim slid her hands under the waistband. I moaned as she touched my throbbing shaft, squeezing it gently as she wrapped her fingers around its length.

Kim’s eyes widened at the hardness of my cock beneath her touch. It was my first time being touched by a woman, and my sister’s first time touching a man. Our first time was with each other, two siblings discovering each other’s bodies.

Well, Kim discovering my body. She was still fully clothed as she knelt in front of me, her hand lovingly caressing my hardness. But even then, I knew that I’d get to know her body as well.

“My hands are delicate, yet soft,” my sister muttered, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her. I swallowed as she held me firmly, slowly stroking up and down my length. “They are tools for my master to use.”

She continued muttering, sometimes so quietly that I couldn’t hear her. I didn’t say a word, just closed my eyes and let her explore my hardness. Just let her repeat her mantras, fall deeper into submission as she played with a cock for the first time in her life.

When I opened my eyes again, my sister was staring up at me in awe. “What would you like your slave to do?” Kim asked, looking deep into my eyes. It was the question I’d been dreading.

I could tell her to do anything. _Anything_. The tape had made it very clear, and my sister’s words had confirmed it. I could tell her to strip naked and post photos online, and she would obey. I could tell her that our first time was going to be in her ass, and she’d bend over enthusiastically, moaning with ecstasy as her tight asshole stretched wide around me.

That wasn’t going to happen, of course. I didn’t want that, and neither did she. Not really.

But damn did my cock twitch at the thought.

So far, I hadn’t...I hadn’t told her to do anything. Not really. I’d told Kim to kneel, but everything else had been her. It was a pretty weak defense, but it made me feel better.

My cock twitched again as Kim’s hand began to pump me faster, her fist working up and down my shaft. She continued looking at me expectantly.

In response, I just stared at her. That cheeky grin appeared on her face again (god, it felt so wrong to be so attracted to my own sister’s smile) and she began to mutter once more.

“My mouth is soft. I will give my master pleasure. I will serve him with my body. I am here to serve my master. I am here to please him.”

Without further instructions from me, she leaned forward. Time stood still as Kim’s mouth closed around the head of my cock. Her soft lips wrapped tightly around me, and she started to gently suck, her eyes never leaving mine as she did.

I’d never gotten head before, so I had no idea if Kim was any good. It was her first time, so I presume she wasn’t. Unless the tape managed to somehow impart detailed sexual technique, as far as I knew, my sister was a virgin.

But what I can say is that it felt incredible.

My sister was thrumming with pleasure as she sucked my cock, her tongue swirling around my glans, licking up and down my length. And as if the physical sensations weren’t enough, there was something so intimate about it. My sister, kneeling on the kitchen floor, giving me pleasure with her mouth.

I was lost in bliss as Kim blew me. She bobbed her head back and forth, her tongue dancing along my length as I watched her take my dick into her mouth. I’d never felt anything like this before, and I knew it would be long before I lost control, cumming into my sister’s eager and willing mouth.

“Oh god!” I gasped, my hips beginning to move involuntarily at the thought. I was going to cum in my sister’s mouth. My first time was going to be with my older sister, my own flesh and blood...and despite how wrong it was, I was enjoying every second of it.

As her tongue got me more and more worked up, my mind began to race. I’d told myself that I’d come downstairs to see if this was what my sister really wanted, if she was truly okay with what we were doing. And now, in practically no time at all, she was kneeling in front of me, my cock in her mouth.

My cock in my sister’s mouth. My sister, kneeling in front of me, sucking my cock. It didn’t feel real.

But as I felt my balls tightening, I knew it was. This was really happening…and no matter what I told myself, I knew we weren’t going to stop there.

I wanted more than just her mouth. Despite the fact that she was my sister, despite the fact that she was only doing any of this because of the tapes in the attic, I wanted Kim’s body. All of it. She’d pledged it all to me, and I wanted to take her up on that offer.

As my sister sucked me as deep ass he could, I pictured myself fucking her. Using her pussy for my pleasure. Taking my sister’s virginity.

“Fuck!” I gasped, and my sister sped up. She was gagging on my cock, her tongue swirling around it, her hand pumping the base, and I knew I couldn’t last any longer. “Kim! Please! I’m gonna cum!”

“My body exists to serve you, master,” Kim gasped, letting my cock slip out of her mouth. “It is the duty of a woman to please her master. I am yours.”

A strangled cry left my throat as Kim’s mouth returned to my cock, trying as hard as she could to deep throat me.

“Kim...I’m gonna...I’m gonna...” I moaned, before trailing off. My orgasm hit me like a freight train, and I bucked uncontrollably as I came. Despite her inexperience, my sister was able to keep up with my frantic movements. The first shot went straight down Kim’s throat, and she swallowed it down eagerly, her eyes silently begging me for more. She spluttered on the second one, pulling backwards, and so my third shot landed on her face, coating it in my essence.

In response to having her face coated with my cum for the second time that day, Kim squealed with joy, kissing my shaft as another dribble of cum trickled out.

“Thank you master,” she gushed. “Thank you thank you thank you...”

I just leaned back against the kitchen table, watching as Kim licked her lips clean, then once more began scooping my cum into her mouth. Neither of us said anything as she swallowed it down, our eyes locked together.

“I know my place, master,” my sister whispered, once she’d swallowed the last of my warm seed. My cock was still rock hard, twitching with every movement Kim made, every word my sister said. “My place is beneath my master. My place is on my hands and knees, ready to serve.”

As she spoke, she fell to her hands, leaning forward and kissing my foot. I wasn’t sure how to react as she began worshipfully kissing my bare feet. All I could do was watch as she started crying again, so overcome by the intensity of what had just happened. What we’d just done.

For a moment I felt bad, but my sister’s smile confirmed that once more, they were tears of joy. Tears of pure happiness.

Happiness at getting to serve me.

“Come here,” I said gruffly, and Kim stood up and buried her head in my chest. For several minutes I just held her, my pants around my ankles, my sister’s clothed body pressed against me.

It was...nice. Weird, but nice. I don’t remember the last time we held each other like this. Even when Dad died, we didn’t...I mean, we’re not the hugging type, y’know?

Of course, we traditionally weren’t the ’getting each other off’ type, so I guess this wasn’t the most surprising thing that had happened that day.

I don’t know how long we stood there, her arms wrapped around me tightly. I put an arm around her waist and kissed her on the head. My softening cock was pressed against my sister’s stomach, but neither of us did anything about it. It was just...there.

It felt strangely normal.

We could have stood there all night, but at the sound of the door opening, I pushed my sister away.

“Act normal around Mom,” I hissed, and Kim nodded as I pulled my pants up. “Don’t call me master.”

My sister looked disappointed—like I’d told her that she wasn’t really a Gryffindor or whatever—but she nodded obediently.

When Mom came into the kitchen, everything looked normal. I was leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to look casual. Kim was sitting back at the table, eating her sandwich, scrolling through social media on her phone.

If you looked closely, you might have noticed her glancing at me occasionally. And if you’d really been paying attention, you would have noticed that these were no regular familial glances.

She couldn’t help herself. It was like it was constantly building up, needing release, and whenever she couldn’t hold back any longer, my sister would look over at me, adoration in her eyes. Lust. Complete and utter submission.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t clear from the outside. But I knew how Kim felt—how the tapes had made her feel—and so I couldn’t see her admiring looks as anything else. I could only hope that Mom wouldn’t notice...or if she did, wouldn’t read them the way I did.

Mom came in complaining about some normal Mom problem: the parking at her work or the quality of the fish in the grocery store or something. I nodded and made the usual sympathetic noises, while Kim just finished her sandwich, taking every opportunity she could to glance at her master.

As soon as I could, I made an excuse and left for my room, throwing myself down onto the bed and staring at the ceiling.

Fuck. What had I just done? What had _we_ just done?

I’d let my sister blow me. I’d ordered her to her knees, and then cum on her face. Again! Twice in one day, I’d blasted my sister’s face with my cum.

And worst of all, I’d loved it both times. Not just me, either—my sister had clearly enjoyed it just as much as I did.

I rolled over and buried my head in the pillow. Fuck! I had to...I couldn’t...

I didn’t know what to do.

It wasn’t like I was taking advantage of my sister. I mean..I was. There was no denying that—is it even possible to cum on a woman’s face without taking advantage?

On the other hand…I hadn’t made those tapes. I hadn’t made her watch them.

The first one, anyway.

And when she _had_ watched it, I hadn’t known what it would do. Not really. Like, I hadn’t known that she would start acting like a sex-crazed whore.

One could make the case that it was a reasonable assumption…but I hadn’t _known_. I mean, I didn’t make the video. For all I knew, the second tape reversed the instructions from the first one.

Part of me wished it had. Part of me wished I’d never found that fucking video. If the attic had been empty, if we hadn’t found that TV and those tapes and that damn geisha costume.

But another part of me...

I’ve never exactly been in hot demand. And it’s not my fault, not really. There’s been a lot of research into it, and the stats are pretty depressing: White women like white men. Black women like white men. White men like Asian woman…and you guessed it, Asian women like white men.

Or, if they’re really feeling adventurous…Black men.

They’ve done a lot of studies on it, and Asian men are universally considered the least attractive. We’re always the sidekick in movies, or even when we’re the lead (Jackie Chan isn’t even Japanese, but I’ll take what I can get when it comes to representation)—you guessed it, we’re still a joke.

George Takei. Pat Morita (Mr. Miyagi). Masi Oka (Hiro, from Heroes). Notice a trend?

When was the last time you saw an Japanese guy in a porn film? Unless it’s actually _from_ Japan, and everything is blurred out.

So yeah, what had happened was pretty fucked up. Like, I’m not claiming it was morally great. But the fact is: as a Japanese dude in a white society, I was dealt a pretty rough hand in life.

Maybe finding these tapes was…I dunno, the universe’s way of giving me a break? I’d fully expected to start dating in my twenties, and then struggle for a decade until I settled for someone dumpy and boring. Someone who was happy to settle for, y’know. An Asian dude.

Instead, I’d just gotten my first blowjob. And even though she was my sister, even though she wasn’t my type, it had been hot as hell. The way she’d started crying while pledging her devotion to me. The way she’d sucked me off like a pro. The way she’d taken my cum on her face.

I knew it was wrong. Sick. Perverted. Morally reprehensible. Somehow, that just made it all hotter...

This whole thing had started as an accident. But now that it had started...

Look, it wasn’t like she wasn’t enjoying it. Even if her enjoyment was...I dunno, artificial. Can feelings even _be_ artificial?

Her thoughts may have originally come from the tape, but now they were _her thoughts_. A month ago, what she was doing may have been abhorrent to her...but now, she was enjoying it. Like, even if the enjoyment was implanted by the tape, it was still a fact.

My sister was _enjoying_ what we did. And no matter where it came from, that feeling was real. I wasn’t taking advantage, not really. I hadn’t forced her to do anything. I hadn’t even told her to go down on me. That had all been her.

Her and the tape.

I rolled onto my back once more, my brow furrowed. I’d been given a chance. A one-in-a-million opportunity. But it was like Spider-Man wouldn’t stop saying: with great power comes great responsibility.

Purely by luck, I’d been given a lot of power here. Over my sister. Over her body. More than just her body—her mind. Her heart. Possibly even her soul.

She’d let me do anything at all; I could tell her to strip naked and walk to the local mall, and she’d do it. She’d been pretty clear about that—she existed for my pleasure. She lived to obey my commands.

So yeah, I had a whole lot of responsibility. And I wanted to be…I dunno, decent with it.

Moral. Or at least, as moral as fucking your sister (and I knew that before long, I’d be fucking her) can get.

Plus, if I didn’t set some boundaries, I knew that what was happening would start to control me.

I had to stay in control. For me...and for my sister. It was too late to put the genie back in the bottle, so I had to decide what to do with the gift I’d been given: a horny, submissive sister who wanted to let me do anything.

Everything.

I got up out of bed and grabbed a pen. Three rules, that felt right. Like Asimov.

First rule, I couldn’t hurt her. I mean, like, permanently hurt her. A spanking would be fine. In fact, I bet she’d love that…

My cock twitched, and I shook my head. Focus.

_Rule 1: do no harm._

That was the rule. Simple. Nothing that would, y’know, damage my sister. I couldn’t get her pregnant or cause any long-term damage. And not just physical, either. I couldn’t destroy her life…which meant Mom could never find out.

That was a good rule, actually.

_Rule 2: always alone._

I was trying to write vaguely, so that if anyone found these rules, they wouldn’t know…y’know, what they were about. “Nothing while Mom is home” was the perfect thing to write if I’d wanted to raise Mom’s suspicions. I can’t prove it, but I know she’s gone through my stuff before.

Rule 2 was simple. No fooling around when Mom was home. Whatever we did, it had to be while Mom was out of the house.

That just left one more rule.

_Rule 3: no more tapes._

Part of me knew that I shouldn’t have even shown her the second one. Hell, if I’d known what it did, I would never have even shown her the first.

Do no harm. Only when we’re alone. And no more tapes. Those felt like good rules. Moral. Great responsibility, and all that.

I wanted to be a good guy. And…weirdly, I wanted to be worthy of the adoration my sister was giving me. I wanted to be a good master.

And of course, now that I had these three simple rules...that meant everything else was on the table.

* * *

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