Brother’s Mind-Controlled Sisters 1: Brother’s Cherry Surprise

Brother’s Mind-Controlled Sisters
A Story of the Institute of Apotheosis Research
Chapter One: Brother’s Cherry Surprise
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2017

Note: Thanks to wrc264 for beta reading this!

Alex strode through the halls of The Institute of Apotheosis. For most technology companies, having a eighteen-year-old with no college degreewalking through it would be unusual. But the Institute wasn’t most companies. They had a higher purpose than just making the newest device or killer app. They were in the business of making gods.

Some might call them a cult.

Because they followed the teachings of their dead founder, Dr. Henry Peter Blavatsky, they found it necessary to keep the running of the company as more of a family business. Alex was the son of the Institute’s president, Deidre Icke.

Another thing that made the Institute unique was the sound of sex echoing through the halls. Alex passed by Department of Scrying, the door open, the moans of two young girls echoing from inside. He had a glimpse of Cindy and Mindy, eighteen-year-old twin sisters, kissing each other as they lay atop a table, their father, the director of the department, fucking one of their tight, young cunts.

Alex’s dick ached and throbbed in his pants. He adjusted himself, picking up the pace on the way to his mother’s office. He needed to get his dick wet. He wanted to slip into his mother’s pussy. To feel the hot, tight sheath of the pussy that had brought him into the world wrapped about his dick.

The first three new gods had taught the world that incest should be practiced, and the Institute had followed their new deity’s teachings with zeal. And right now, Alex was very eager to practice.

He reached his mother’s office, bursting in and groaned at the sight of Deidre Icke bent over her own desk, her ass a bright cherry-red. She let out a groan as Alex’s dad, Deidre’s ex-husband, cracked his hand down on her rump.

As a cheating wife, he had every right to punish her. The last god, Michael Horne, had taught the world that after learning his own wife had an adulterous affair.

Alex groaned at the sight of his mom’s spanked rump.

CRACK!

“Ooh, yes, punish me,” his mother moaned, the President of the Institute submitting to her punishment. Welcoming it. She wiggled her hips, her dark bush glistening with her excitement.

CRACK!

“You’re just in time,” Alexis, Alex’s twin sister, said. She sat naked on a chair, rubbing her barely legal cunt messy with their father’s cum. “The drone’s just about to drop off the package to the new god.”

“Who is it?” Alex asked, staring at his sister’s cunt. He wanted to fuck her so badly. Ever since incest was revealed, he lusted for her.

But brother and sister incest hadn’t been taught yet. Fathers could enjoy their daughters. Mother’s their sons and daughters. Even sisters could love each other.

“Randy Lyon,” she answered, her fingers digging into her cunt. “I hope he has a sister.”

“Yeah,” Alex groaned, unable to pull his eyes away from that naughty sight.

CRACK!

The Institute hadn’t anticipated what the new gods had taught them, but they were more than willing to follow them. The twelve new gods would change the world. They would reawaken mankind to spirituality.

And the Institute would be their most fervent disciples.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Watch out on the right flank,” I said into the headset, my PlayStation controller gripped in my hand. “They’re trying to cap the objective.”

“I got it,” my friend, going by pussyhunter69, said over the voice chat. He then laughed. “Bet the cuck didn’t see that coming. Head shot and he’s down!”

I grinned, staring at the screen, dodging the incoming attack from an enemy player. I fired, taking him down. I shifted on the bed, my TV only a few feet before me. The music of the game thundered through my bedroom.

But it wasn’t loud enough.

“Randy, get your goddamn ass down here!” my father bellowed, his voice thundering through the house. “Right the fuck now!”

I sucked in a deep breath, gripping the black controller tight in my hand. “Shit,” I muttered. “Guys, I got to go.”

“Now?” pussyhunter69 groaned. “We’re in the middle of the match.”

“Yeah, my dad’s calling.” I hated living at home. Twenty and poor, I didn’t have many options. I worked part time, using the money to help pay the bills since my dad had “hurt” his back on the job and now spent his disability drinking as much beer as he could.

Asshole. I did not know what my mother ever saw in him. I could only imagine she would have divorced him if she hadn’t died.

I threw off my headset and shut down the system with the controller. I took a deep breath, steeling myself to the confrontation. Most days, he was too drunk to put the effort into yelling at me or doing something worse.

“You get your goddamn useless ass down here!” he bellowed again, his words half-slurred by the alcohol.

I threw open my door and stepped into the hallway, running a nervous hand through my dark-brown hair. He sounded real drunk and belligerent. The bruises from his last tantrum had faded. I knew I’d have more. He never beat my three sisters.

Only me.

Alison’s door opened. My nineteen-year-old sister thrust her head out, her light-brown hair falling in loose locks about her narrow face. She was my favorite sister. The only one that gave a shit about me. My older sister was a cunt and Livie, the baby of the family, just ignored me unless she needed something from me. But Alison was more than my sister, she was my friend. She was someone I could talk to. Someone that understood.

“Good luck,” she said, her smile tight, that worried look she got tensing her face.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said heading for the stairs. I wanted to drag my feet, to take my time, but that would just make him angrier.

My footsteps thudded down the stairs. I had grown tall, taller than my dad, but I had a lanky build, not as broad-shouldered as him. His years of working construction had given him strength that pounding back beer after beer somehow hadn’t robbed from him.

There was no fucking justice in the world. If there was, Mom would be alive and this asshole would be dead.

I found my dad in the kitchen, my older sister Valarie with him. She had her arms crossed beneath her large breasts contained in a baby-doll t-shirt. The slut dressed to show off her body and our father… He appreciated it. With her bleached-blonde hair, she looked like our mother, but I doubt our mother ever dressed like a streetwalker. I mean, those shorts were so tight Valarie had a cameltoe.

Fucking bitch. She knew that dad perved on her and used it to her advantage.

“What did I do now?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. My disgust rose in my stomach, a burning churn of acid, at the sight of the bleary-eyed, balding man before me, his white shirt stained and stretching over his beer cut, an inch of flabby, hairy belly exposed thrusting over his jeans.

“This!” he growled, holding up an empty case of Coors, his favorite brand of beer.

“What about it?” I asked.

“There should have been four more beers in here, but there ain’t.”

My eyes flicked to my sister. The twenty-year-old bitch licked her lips, her hazel eyes smirking.

“I didn’t take them,” I protested. The one thing my father cared about was his beer. But how he could remember how many were in a case, I didn’t know.

Drinking held little appeal to me after seeing it transform my father into this piece of shit before me, his breath reeking of that sour drink, his eyes bloodshot. He took a step towards me and threw the cardboard box to the ground. It bounced on the linoleum floor and slid into my feet.

“Don’t lie to me. Your sister told me she saw you sneaking one yesterday.”

That fucking bitch. I glared at Valarie and she had this smile on her lips, this smirk of triumph. Of course she was sneaking beers. She had one of her friends over. That bitch thought she could get away with anything.

And she could. In that tight top and those ass-hugging shorts dad would let her get away with murder so long as she provided a scapegoat for his anger.

“Goddamn, you are such a whore, Valarie,” I snarled at her, my fists balling.

“Don’t call your sister that!” bellowed Dad. “She’s the only one in the family that does her chores. If it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have any food to eat, you ungrateful little shit.”

“Alison does the shopping,” I growled. “Valarie doesn’t do shit but dress like a tart and—”

Dad’s fist swung. I raised my arms, taking the blow on my shoulder. Pain throbbed as I stumbled back. He had meaty hands, so thick and perfect for battering me. His putrid breath washed over me as he roared his drunken rage at me.

My heart pounded. My skin grew tense as his next blow took me in the stomach. Air whooshed out of my lungs. I folded in half and fell down to my knees, coughing. I felt Valarie’s eyes watching me. That fucking cunt. This was all her fault and—

Dad kicked me.

“Fuck!” I grunted, rolling onto my back as he followed, his heavy steps booming on the linoleum. I felt so small beneath him. A giant loomed over me.

I covered my head, my entire body tensed and—

The blow hit my lower back. Thudding pain rippled through me. I grit my teeth, grunting. I didn’t want to cry out. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I tensed before each blow, took it with a grunt, my heart screaming in my chest, my blood pounding through my veins. A hot rush beat in my ears as he kicked me over and over.

“Fucking!”

KICK!

“Useless!”

KICK!

“Son!”

KICK!

My anger boiled through me as the pain throbbed through my back. I clenched my fists, fingers biting into my palms. My asshole dad grunted over me. He wheezed like a leaky bellows, sucking in breath, exerting himself for once.

“Don’t touch my beer, fucking little shit,” he grunted and stumbled off.

The linoleum felt cool on my cheek, soothing away the burning pain.