I was sitting in my office going over a few notes I had taken after having met with the last scheduled appointment of the day. Working as a marriage counselor had its interesting moments to say the least. And this one had proven to be just that. I suppose we're not supposed to get too emotionally involved with the people we meet with, but this couple had proven to be a harder challenge than any I had come up against. Mrs. Stacy Evens was an outlandish flirt, obviously part of the problem, openly flirting with me, even with her husband Bob sitting next to her. And adding to that of course, the flagrant way she would virtually expose herself to me, low cut blouses, often braless, and short skirts that she got a kick out of showing off to me, crossing and uncrossing her legs over and over again.

Thank god I only met with them once a week. I'd kept it totally professional of course, never allowing Stacy's flirtations to tempt me into doing or saying anything inappropriate, even when we had our monthly one on ones.

They had only been gone less than twenty minutes, and I still sat behind my desk hiding ... or rather trying to ignore an erection. That was the one by-product of her visits that was difficult to control, seeing her, listening (mostly to her) about the fantasies she had and entertained, much to her husband's dismay and disapproval. She of course claiming that he was boring, and a prude in bed. Why they had remained married was beyond me, though I could only assume it was the money, as they were very well off. But it was also interesting to note, as strange as this may sound, theirs was an 'arranged' marriage. Both sets of parents long ago deciding this would be a front-page society coo, in bringing their children together. As such ... they had to remain married for no less than five years, or face disinheritance on both sides. But they had also been required to take counseling together as part of that. Hence ... my seeing them once a week, like it or not.

It was making for an interesting case study as well, which in addition to the actual counseling I was doing, I was going to use them in a book I was also writing, though keeping their true identities anonymous of course.

Like I said ... I was still reading over my notes when my sister came in checking on me. Darlene and I had been working together now for the past several months. Ever since her own divorce (which I'd given her a little guidance on in trying to help her) she'd come to work for me when my previous office manager/assistant had taken leave to have a baby. It had worked out for us both. Darlene and I had always gotten along well, and being able to help her out when she needed it, gave us additional time to be together again. Something as the years had passed, had kept us from enjoying.

Surprisingly enough, this was also one of my favorite times of the day. Darlene had already locked everything up, coming into my office and immediately heading over to the cabinet where she poured us both two fingers of scotch before taking a seat there in front of me. She slid my glass over towards me, already sipping from hers.

"I could really use a smoke," she informed me.

Darlene had been trying to quit, so far ... unsuccessfully, though she really was trying to cut back. Working here helped some ... we were three floors up, so it took a bit of extra effort on her part to ride down the elevator, go outside for a quick puff or two, and then back up again.

One of the other things I also did as sort of a side business, was hypnotherapy. Hypnosis as it were, where I had successfully helped many others to actually quit smoking, as well as helping others to even change their dietary and eating habits. Obviously doing that wasn't nearly as lucrative as my counseling business, but it did provide a little extra spending money here and there whenever I needed it. I'd already made the suggestion twice to her however about trying to help her quit that way, but so far she'd been hesitant to do so. Hypnosis bothered her a little. The thought of being under someone else's control wasn't something she was too keen on relinquishing, even to me ... her own brother. And I certainly understood why. Her Ex, Jim ... a man I never had thought much of, had been very controlling, very demanding ... if not downright abusive.

"I told you," I said easing back in my chair, closing my notebook, "any time you'd like for me to try helping you through hypnosis, I'm willing to give it a try."

"I know," she said sipping her drink nervously looking across from me. "If I can't manage it on my own ... eventually, maybe I'll let you. But ... that does sort of make me wonder about something Brad," she said as she paused for a moment, taking the time to polish off her drink. I'd barely even touched my own. She stood, still obviously thinking about whatever it was she wanted to ask me about, crossing back over towards the bar, pouring herself another scotch. Something she rarely if ever did. "You ever use hypnosis for any other reasons aside from helping people to quit smoking or lose weight?"

I hadn't really. It wasn't one of the tools I generally used, though I had used it once or twice in helping a couple of women with self-esteem issues. But beyond that ... not much else, and told her so.

"Why do you ask that anyway?" I asked afterwards.

She was blushing now, and obviously very nervous. If Darlene had self-esteem issues herself, I couldn't fully understand why. Though once again ... that could have a lot to do with her Ex controlling husband perhaps. However now ... with him out of the way, why she would continue to have any was beyond me. Even I had to admit, my sister was one damn fine looking woman. I'd never admit to her of course that as a growing adolescent, I'd had more than one inappropriate thought about her, and had even once caught her masturbating in her bedroom without her ever knowing that I had. She had a great looking body back then, and in my mind ... even more so now. She'd filled out a little, especially after her divorce, looking far healthier now than she ever had, and damn sexier too.

Of course it didn't help that I was still trying to fight down an erection, sitting behind my desk as I took one of those inappropriate moments to check out my own sister's ass in the tight fitting skirt she was wearing. Not to mention those ripe-sized breasts of hers, currently wearing a thin white blouse, the lacy pattern of the bra she had on, clearly revealing that beneath it as she stood there pouring her second scotch.

Once again she crossed the room retaking her seat. "You and I have always been close..." she began fidgeting as she sat there. I once again sat back, choosing to let her continue without interruption. If I had ... she might not complete whatever it was she was struggling with here. Years of practice and patience had taught me that much. "When we were kids, we used to tell one another secrets, things we wondered about ... sometimes did, sometimes hadn't done ... but wanted to."

I remembered those times. Some of which had indeed been fairly intimate in a matter of speaking. The closest thing we had ever really done that would have put both of our parents into an early grave had they ever learned about it, was a few months after Darlene had turned eighteen. She had come to me, informing me she'd made the decision to sleep with a particular guy she knew. Even then, I knew better than to talk her out of it, deciding to hear her out, help her get through it, what she might expect from it at the very least.

That's when she informed me, she'd never even seen a guy's penis before ... let alone a stiff one. And then asked me ... if she could see mine that way, so she'd have some kind of an idea as to what to expect.

Three years her senior, perhaps I should have known better, especially with her being my sister and all. But as that's all it was ... and never, ever did go beyond that, not then or later even ... I had done so. Just stroking it long enough to make it hard enough for her to see what one actually looked like fully erect. She had ... yes admittedly, fondled it briefly, once again just getting a feel for it, no pun intended. The whole examination and curiosity had lasted all of five minutes. But she left far less afraid and unsure of herself afterwards.

I never told her I'd stayed behind out there in the barn of our parent's place furiously jerking myself off afterwards. That single little semi-innocent memory had remained one of my fondest masturbation fantasies for several years after that. Though like I said ... we never did anything like it again. Two years later, Darlene was married. And a year after that ... she was divorced again. Thank god she and Jim had never had any children together.

As for myself? I'd been engaged once, nearly married ... but I began seeing certain sign's in my own fiancé' and taking my own advise a short time later, had broken the engagement off. I was glad that I did. Patricia, my ex fiancé ' had ended up running away with another married man ... unfortunately, half of a couple I'd been counseling, trying to help at the time. I'd had no clue of course, she'd been a part of that couple's problems, and had been for quite some time. Luckily for me ... no one ever made the connection. Ever since, I'd been far more careful myself, less inclined to even get involved with another woman again, and far too busy these days to even think about it.

We'd been sharing a very long moment of silence. "I'm a little embarrassed to be telling you this, especially as you are my brother ... but, I've been wondering, wondering all along here ... if, if ... maybe it's something to do with me, why Jim reacted the way he so often did towards me."

"Such as?" I said once again sitting straight in my chair, not quite wanting to put a professional sounding tone on this ... but hoping she felt comfortable enough to confide in me.

"I never once had an orgasm with him," she said her face turning scarlet. "Not once, and it never made any difference what he did ... I just never did. I'm not sure ... I ever will not with anyone," she said almost breaking down at this point.

"Darlene? Have you had an orgasm before though? I mean ... you know, giving one to yourself through masturbation?"

"Years ago ... yes. I mean long before I got married, long before I ever did anything with anyone, you remember," she actually smiled, referring to that very moment I'd been sitting there myself remembering. "I masturbated all the time ... almost to the point I was starting to think there was something wrong with me because of it. So yes ... most certainly I did. But never have since..."

"Not since?" I asked incredulously. "And you still do masturbate?"

"Not for a while now ... no. I gave up, I mean ... seriously Brad, what's the point? If I can't get myself off ... who the hell can?"

She had a point there, though being my sister and all, I wasn't sure what I could really do to help her with. I mean ... I'm not a physiatrist, those sort of emotional problems are outside of my level of expertise here. I could counsel her to seek help elsewhere, or recommend someone, but as far as helping her myself went ... I wasn't really in any position to do so.

"No, I don't want to do that," she said simply after hearing my suggestion. "I just ... I just wouldn't feel very comfortable."

"Well, I'm not sure what I can do for you then sis ... not sure what I can do to help you if you're not willing to seek help from someone who can."

"Can't you?" She asked almost pleadingly. "I mean ... maybe, using hypnosis or something, couldn't you figure out why I suddenly can't, or what's keeping me from being able to do so? Help me out? Make it easier for me so that I can? At least climax?"

"Jesus sis, that's not exactly anything I've ever done, or tried to help anyone to do before ... especially with hypnosis. I'm not even sure I should, and especially with you being my sister and all. You sure you'd be comfortable with me even doing that?"

"You're the only one I feel like I could be," she said sincerely, eyes hopeful as she sat there pleadingly looking at me. "Won't you at least ... try? I mean ... if it doesn't work, maybe you won't even be able to hypnotize me. I read somewhere, that a subject has to first be willing before they can be. If they're hesitant, or afraid, I understand that they simply can't be hypnotized, isn't that basically true?"

"For some yes ... for others, they're more subconsciously inclined to submit to it, even when they don't think like they can be. It's different for a lot of people. You might be one of those ... it may work, or it may not. We'd have to see."

"So ... you're saying you will then? At least try?"

I took a deep breath, sighing heavily. "We can try sis ... but no promises. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for here, or expecting to find when I do."

"How about some of that regression therapy, you know ... taking me back in time, relieving part of the past. Maybe in doing that, you'll be able to figure out why I no longer can, find out what happened, what changed things for me, even before I got married."

I gave it some more thought, and then reluctantly agreed. "Tell you what, let me do a little research on this, put a few thoughts together over the next couple of days here. So far ... we've got nothing scheduled on Friday. Let's keep it that way, don't book any appointments except for yourself. We'll start bright and early Friday morning when your minds more relaxed and refreshed then. Take it from there, and see where it leads us. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like a plan, thank you Brad," Darlene said walking over to give me a kiss and a hug from behind. I felt the press of her full breasts against the back of my neck, wishing I hadn't. I'd be sitting behind this desk now for another ten or fifteen minutes or until she at least left. Which thankfully soon after, she did.

I sat jerking myself off to the thoughts of my own sister ... that day out in the barn. Something I hadn't done for several years now.

And I felt guilty as hell about it afterwards. Perhaps hypnotizing my own sister wasn't such a very good idea after all. I actually sat there hoping, she couldn't be.

Friday came. I was nervous, and I knew damn well she had to be too. We'd taken the precaution of forwarding any and all calls straight to voicemail so there wouldn't be any interruptions that way either. We'd locked the door, posted a sign saying we were closed taking a long three-day weekend, and had turned off all the lights. But, I had done that for another reason as well. I'd been reading, confirming what I had learned a while back, that the best time to hypnotize someone fully and completely, especially if they proved out to be a difficult or unwilling subject, was to create an environment of complete and total relaxation. And that meant in this case at least, making it as dark and as quiet as possible. I had drawn all the blinds, only the smallest bit of light even coming in, barely even able to see by. Aside from that, there was only one other small table lamp on in the corner, which I had likewise thrown a small red scarf over, softening the light even more with a nice warm red glow because of it.

The day previous I had prepped my sister, telling her she was to wear something she'd be comfortable laying there in. Perhaps something she might wear to bed, thus again simulating that moment of relaxation and vulnerability we all felt when first going to sleep. If she felt comfortable and relaxed in doing that, there was far more chance of success of my actually putting her under, and then maybe ... just maybe, getting some hint or some clue as to why she had suddenly started having problems achieving orgasm.

I sat waiting for her in my easy chair. Likewise comfortably dressed, a lightweight pair of sweat pants and tee shirt. I too knew this was apt to take a while, dependent upon how things went. Darlene had gone into the restroom to change, coming out moments later wearing a bathrobe.

"Don't laugh," she said as she neared the couch before sitting down on it. "But this is how I sleep ... and I figured, after what you told me, this is how I'd feel the most comfortable if I was actually going to sleep ... or let you hypnotize me." With that, she opened her robe setting it off to one side. She stood there in front of me with what appeared to be a man's long-sleeved dress shirt on, and not much else. I didn't laugh, if anything I swallowed hard. She looked great in it ... sexy as hell, yet remaining fully covered up of course too. But then I noticed something else ... the shirt looked familiar!

"Hey ... that looks like..."

"It is," she laughed somewhat embarrassed. "I stole it from you, years ago. I like sleeping in shirts like this, so now I have several of them, though this one for some reason ... I like sleeping in the most. It's softer, more comfortable on me when I do. That ... and it makes me feel safe for some reason."