On a Saturday, a man named Dean Michaels desired to test a certain device. A mind-controlling device.

It was his own creation, based off rumors he’d heard of the military researching into using ultra-high frequency sounds to mind-control individuals. Inflamed by this idea, and desiring to enjoy his two teenage daughters, he built it.

And tested it.

At a park two hours drive from his home, he activated it. Everyone in the park was affected, including a pair of nubile, twin sisters. The nature of the device would mean they would never remember their first time with a man nor with each other.

If the device worked properly, they would have no traces at all of the mind-control commands that had programmed them to not only enjoy incest, but want to love each other. The girls should never wonder what happened to their hymens or have any changes to their personalities and desires.

That was how the device was meant to work, but this was the first time it had ever been used.

Debra Carter – Minutes Before Activation

The swing creaked as I idly pushed at the sand with my feet, rocking me back a bit. My twin sister, Denise, sat beside me on another swing, her brassy-brown hair fluttering in the breeze sweeping through the park. It was a warm Saturday and we were bored.

“There are no cute boys here,” complained Denise. “Why did we come here?”

I shrugged, my arms wrapped around the chain. They were sheathed in blue plastic tubing to keep your fingers from getting pinched in the chain links. My feet dragged furrows through the sand beneath me, creating twin ruts. We had put on tight skinny jeans and tight blouses with V necklines to show off our round breasts.

We were fourteen and looking for some fun. We wanted to flirt with some cute boys.

“We should have gone to the mall,” Denise complained. “There’s just a bunch of kids here.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking around the park. A man was sitting on a park bench. He had a laptop with a stereo beside him. He typed away at it. A black-haired woman old enough to be our mother sank down beside him. She wore athletic gear and looked tired from jogging. “Just a bunch of...”

All the kids were leaving the park with their parents or by themselves. I shrugged and looked over at my sister. Her hazel eyes met mine. We were identical, her face a mirror of mine. The only difference between us was my pink blouse to her purple.

“Want to get going?” I asked her. “Bail here?”

“Yeah, definitely,” she said. “Maybe we can find a pair of cute, twin brothers and have an amazing weekend. They can sweep us off our feet and kiss us and shower us in gifts.”

“And fuck us,” I said.

My sister giggled, her cheeks growing spotted. We were both virgins and eager to change that. We just had to find the right pair of boys. We wanted to do everything together. I mean, not in the same room, but if we were in different rooms and both of us were getting it on with a hot guy who made us feel amazing, that would be perfect way for us to lose our cherries.

I pushed back on the swing, my feet leaving the ground. The chains creaked as I said, “Okay, we’re going to—”

I stretched my back as I stood on the grass by my sister. The park bench was feet away, the laptop guy putting away his computer and the speakers beside him. A teenage girl I didn’t know was dragging her mother away from the guy, the two dressed for jogging.

“Wait, what were we talking about?” my sister asked. She thrust her arms up in the air, her purple blouse stretching over her tits.

“Um, boys, right?” I asked. I yawned. I had such a strange taste in my mouth. It was sweet. Not bad. “That’s what we were talking about?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Were we going to do ... what? Gosh, I can’t remember.”

“Right,” I said. I felt so tired. But good. There was a warmth fluttering through my body. I buzzed like I had just masturbated more times than I ever had in my life. I took my twin sister’s hand. “It’s boring here. Want to go home.”

“Yeah,” she said, squeezing my hand. She covered her mouth with her other hand as she yawned. “I feel like taking a nap. The sun’s getting to me.”

The guy stood up. He looked like a cute teacher who taught at our high school. Dark hair, glasses, tall. Old enough to be our father but still handsome. My eyes followed him as he left with a strut. The sort of dominating walk of a winner.

“He’s cute,” I said. “Mmm, imagine losing your virginity to him.”

“Yum,” my sister said, squeezing her hands. “He is hot. Making my nipples tingle.”

Mine itched, too. I looked down and grinned. “I’m poking out.” I glanced at my sister. Her round breasts, cupped by her blouse, were topped by hard nipples. “So are you.”

“Yeah,” she said, her hips wiggling from side to side. “Feel like I just masturbated.” Flashes of my sister doing that popped into my mind. Her body twisting in passion, her round breasts heaving. Her moans echoed through my thoughts.

The wet heat between my thighs swelled. My sister’s breasts looked delicious. They were a great pair of tits, which meant I had a great pair of tits. The type that just begged to be squeezed and kneaded, her nipples sucked on.

I’d never noticed just how hot her tits were.

As we strolled across the park to head home, I kept noticing the bounce of her breasts. They were just such a delicious pair. I knew what they would feel like. I had squeezed my own while masturbating or washing them in my shower.

It would be exciting to touch her tits.

The thought of touching my twin sister’s breasts had me blinking. I wrenched my gaze from them. Why would I think of Denise like that? She was my sister. My sister. My flesh and blood. And she was a girl. I never stared at girls with hunger like that. I was into boys. Cute boys.

Why weren’t there any cute boys?

A lot of people were flooding into the park all at the same time as we neared the edge. Children ran past us, giggling and laughing. Some of the people were yawning like they’d just woken up from sleep. I arched my back. My phone beeped.

I pulled it out and... “Wow. I have a dozen texts and messages I missed.”

“Huh?” my twin said, drawing her phone out of her pocket. “I didn’t think we were at the park that long. Look at how late it is.”

“Shit,” I said. “It didn’t feel like we were here for more than fifteen minutes, not over an hour.”

“I guess time passes by when...” My sister frowned. “Talking.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t quite remember what we were talking about for an hour. Probably boys. It was our favorite topic. Since we started getting hair on our pussies and growing tits, it had become what we loved.

We left the park. My sister’s breasts kept being a distraction. I tried to catch up on the messages from our friends, my twin doing the same. She had her attention focused on her phone, her face twisted with concentration. A lock of her brassy hair fell down her cheek. I just wanted to brush it away.

Her pink lips pursed.

What would it be like to kiss those lips...

I shot my gaze back down to my phone. Why did I think that? What was wrong with me? She was my sister. Think about cute boys.

I struggled to think of cute boys. Bruce or Clint or Rex were cute guys at my school. And there was Mr. Morrison, who was our history teacher that my sister and I both had a crush on. But their faces wouldn’t stay in my mind. Denise’s kept popping up.

My cheeks burned. My pussy grew hotter and hotter. Every step, the tingle in my cunt swelled. I wanted to masturbate. I gripped my phone in my left hand, my right holding Denise’s. Hers was warm and soft and her fingers were so delicate.

I struggled to answer my friends, typing with just my thumb. We walked down the sidewalk towards our home. A relaxed pace as the boil in my panties swelled and swelled. I wanted to touch myself so bad.

And I was scared about what I would think about while doing it. Not just masturbating to a girl, but to the one girl I shouldn’t. Denise was my flesh and blood. Literally. We had the same DNA. We started out as one person. During the first hours of our existence, as our original egg began dividing, we had accidentally separated. We should have been one person.

Instead, we were two.

It would be incest. Wrong.

It would be like masturbating myself if I touched her pussy.

The thought struck me like a piece of wood whipped up by a tornado and then flung away. It slammed into me so hard I stumbled, pulling my hand from my sister’s. I gasped at this taboo idea. That touching her, making love to her, was just like masturbating myself. We came from the same egg fertilized by the same sperm. We were the same person.

Was it incest for us to kiss and lick and touch each other?

“Debra?” Denise asked, glancing at me. “You okay?”

“I just ... I stumbled,” I said. I shook my head. “Clumsy me.”

“That’s because you were staring at your phone and not where you’re walking,” she said, a twinkle in her hazel eyes. She had such a lovely blush to her pink cheeks. Her nipples were still hard, still poking at her blouse. I wanted to hug her. To press my own erect nubs into her breasts.

“Guilty,” I said. “You got to teach me how you do it.”

“I’m just more coordinated than you,” she said, looking dramatic.

“Maybe I should lean against you so you can support me,” I told her.

“Yeah,” she said, the pink in her cheeks growing more intense. My own cheeks were warm. I wanted to kiss her, hug her. I wanted to explode. My pussy was so hot. “Maybe you should.”

Her arm trembled as she reached out and slipped it around my waist. I shuddered at the feel of her hand sliding around my skin through my blouse. She grasped my left hip and pulled me to her. I pressed into her side. My own arm went around her waist, touching her. Our bodies were pressed tight.

I felt the side of her boob brushing mine. My nipples throbbed and ached. My pussy grew juicier and juicier. My toes curled. My heart pounded in my chest as we kept walking. I slipped my phone in my pocket then reveled in the feel of her against me. Our jean-clad thighs whisked by each other.

We didn’t talk as we walked like this. I didn’t know what to say. My mouth felt dry. It was like I was walking with a cute boy and not wanting to mess things up. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. My stomach writhed with nerves while my pussy burned.

She smelled so good. There was this sweet musk around us. I knew that scent. My pussy. But it could be her. Was I smelling my own soaking my panties, or was she just as horny as me? Heat rippled through me with every step.

“So...” she started to say as we strolled down the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” I said... “Uh...”

Silence fell on us again. We normally could just chat. This felt so weird. A day that started out with boy-watching had turned into something else. My pussy ached deep inside of me. I bit my lip, wanting to just thrust my hand in my jeans.

To feel her hand thrust into my jeans.

My hand itched to slide from her hips and cup her ass through her jeans. I knew we both had perky asses. Squeezable asses. The type of asses guys liked to stare at. It was why we were wearing our tightest jeans.

The tension around my heart grew with each step, this pressure to do something. To grab her. Grope her. To do wicked things with her. This was insane. The heat swelled and swelled through my body.

We turned the corner on our street. Our house was just ahead. My breath quickened. My fingers gripped her hip, feeling the denim shifting beneath my digits. Just a little slide. I could pretend it was an accident if she said anything.

My hand moved an inch.

I was really doing this.

Another inch. I crept slowly, hoping she wouldn’t notice. My blood screamed through my veins. Roared in my ears. My hand moved another inch and slid across her butt. I felt the flex of her ass beneath the denim. I wanted to squeeze her.

Instead, I chickened out and let my hand drop to my side.

My sister glanced at me and then she released me and took a step away. I must have weirded her out. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and stared at it, her cheeks scarlet. She typed with stiff movements.

My own was vibrating with notifications in my pocket. I swallowed, missing the feel of my sister against me. I had her pressed tight and blew it. I shouldn’t have touched her ass. I made her think I was acting weird.

“What should we do?” I said, trying to pretend nothing had happened. I needed to act normal. Not suspicious.

“I don’t know?” she said as we reached our house and left the sidewalk behind. “Watch some Netflix.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Or maybe I’ll go work on some homework.”

She nodded.

Yeah, I made things weird. I could tell. She was tense in her shoulders. I mentally kicked myself. She stepped up before me to unlock the door. My eyes fell down on her ass. God, it was just perfect. I wanted to touch it. I want to knead it and kiss it. I wanted to do such wicked things to her.

Flashes of kissing her, of licking her pussy, of licking cum out of her pussy, drifted through my mind. I shuddered, the heat burning through my cunt. My panties soaked up the juices flowing out of me.

I was such a pervert.

She opened the door and swept in. It grew cooler inside. Mom was running the A/C. I could hear her in the kitchen. My sister fell on the couch and absently turned on the TV while still typing on her phone. She rolled over onto her belly like she was taunting me with that ass.

I fled upstairs to our room.

I burst through the door and shut it behind me. It was a clean room. We couldn’t let it get messy. Not with both of us sharing it. Our beds were on opposite sides, mine with a pink sheet and hers with purple. We had our own desks that were side by side, her laptop shut closed on hers while I had a desktop. We would trade them back and forth.

We shared everything. We had a closet with clothes that we often thought of as each others. Jeans and blouses and skirts and dresses. We were the same size. The only thing we didn’t share were bras, panties, and socks. We had our own drawers in our shared dresser for that. We always made sure to buy different types of panties so we wouldn’t get them mixed up.

I was on fire. I groaned and ripped off my blouse. I threw it in the hamper, my breasts constrained in a cream-hued bra. My nipples poked against the fabric. I bit my lip, that need to masturbate building and building.

There was a problem sharing a room with your twin sister. Self-pleasure.

We certainly did it. And we had definitely caught each other doing it. We had adopted a don’t ask, don’t tell policy. If I woke up and heard her pleasuring herself, I would just pretend to be asleep or make a slight noise so she would stop. Other times, we wouldn’t comment about why we took a long shower.

But my sister was downstairs.

I unsnapped my jeans. My zipper rasped. I groaned as I shoved my hand down the front of my panties. My hand slid through my pubic hair, the soft curls caressing my fingertips. I found the wet folds of my pussy. I groaned as I brushed my clit. I slid my digits through my juicy lips and found the entrance to my twat.

I didn’t feel my hymen.

My fingers slipped into my depths. I gasped at how great it felt to penetrate myself for the first time. I whimpered at the sensation of sliding into my pussy. It was incredible. My digits went further and further, teasing my walls. My juices soaked me. This was incredible. I didn’t know what happened to my hymen, but I was glad it was gone because—

My bedroom door opened.

I whipped my hand out of my pants, fingers ripping from my pussy. My digits gleamed with juices as I looked over my shoulder, cheeks burning. Denise was there. She froze at the sight of me, and then she glanced away.

“Just, uh, hot,” I said. “Wanted to change.”

“Yeah, me, too,” she said. She closed the door behind her and looked away.

I swallowed as she pulled off her blouse. She had on a black bra. It was cute. It held her breasts. I bit my lip, wondering if she would take it off. She still had that embarrassed tension stiffening her body. I shouldn’t let her catch me ogling her, but I wanted to. She had such a supple back. Her jeans popped. Her zipper rasped.

This heat rushed through me. She wiggled out of her jeans. Her rump clad in her black and lacy panties appeared. They were hugging her butt-cheeks. The cloth had dug into her crack, outlining them perfectly. She bent over further, a few stray strands of her hair peeking out the side, a dark spot over her crotch.

My sister was wet.

She stepped out of her jeans and turned around. She stared at me, her breasts rising and falling, so round and lush. My fingers itched, two of them soaked in my juices. She bit her lip then she darted to our dresser. She pulled out a long t-shirt and drew it on. It fell down to her mid-thighs.

“Are you going to change?” she asked, throwing herself on her bed.

“Yeah,” I said, forgetting I was standing there in a bra and with my jeans undone.

I stripped them off, wishing Denise would stare at me. She wouldn’t. Why would she? My twin wasn’t turning into some sort of pervert. I found a pair of shorts and a tank top. I pulled them on then glanced at my desk.

I had told her I had homework. I sighed and sat down at my desk.

The afternoon stretched long and the evening felt so tedious. I just needed to masturbate, but I couldn’t slip away. My sister was around and then mom was yelling at us to do chores. Dad came home from fishing and we had dinner. The entire time, my pussy simmered.

I wanted to take a long shower, but Mom was ensconced in the bathroom taking her relaxing, Saturday night bath, and enjoying some “me” time (I.E., reading trashy romance novels and sipping chardonnay). When she finished, I’d be thankful our bedroom was next to our parents.

It was stuffy in our room. I was tired and horny and frustrated and wanted to cum. I was glad when Denise said she wanted to go to sleep early. She turned off the light and started changing. In the dark, I heard the rustle of clothing. Her body was just a shadow as she stripped naked. A silhouette.

It was somehow more exciting hearing the sound of her panties sliding down her body. She was bent over for a moment, the curve of her rump looking so delicious. She pulled on a nightgown and then slipped into her bed.

My pussy soaked my panties. I started changing, wishing she was watching me. I stripped them all off. My bra released my tits. I hoped she caught a side profile of my naked breasts as I bent over to take off my shorts and panties. My cunt ached. I smelled my sweet musk. The pleasure rippled through my body.

I was naked for a moment before my twin sister. I wanted to spin around. I wanted to let her see how hot we were. I wanted her to lust for me the way I was lusting for her. These strange and naughty impulses filled me. I don’t know what happened at the park to flip this lezzie, incestuous switch in me, but I wanted to make love to my twin.

And I couldn’t.

I sighed as Denise didn’t throw herself at me. She sounded like she was shifting on the bed to get comfortable. To her, I was just changing into my nightgown like I did every other evening. I found my nightgown in the dark and slipped it on. Light and clinging to my naked body, my teenage flesh quivering.

I slipped to my bed but didn’t go beneath the covers. I lay on my back, breathing regularly. I listened to my sister, waiting for her to be fully asleep so I could pleasure myself. I had to masturbate now. No waiting for Mom to finish her long bath so I could use the bathroom.

I bit my lip. I felt every beat of my heart. My pussy was soaked. I hadn’t bothered with panties. I pulled up the hem of my nightgown. My hands were just resting on my thighs, inches from my aching pussy. That sweet musk of my passion filled my nose.

Did my sister have the same scent? I wished I could find out. Maybe I could steal her panties. I could rub them against my face. I would smear that wonderful musk across my face. My fingers inched closer to my twat. My breasts rose and fell, nipples aching.

She had to be asleep. I didn’t hear any movement. Just her steady breathing. She was beneath her covers. Her eyes were closed. I could do it. I just had to be quiet. I was good at that. My fingers slid closer and closer to my fourteen-year-old pussy.