Chapter 22

When we went back to our room, my sister and I undressed as we always did. Humility.

“I think I just broke Mom,” my sister lamented as she collapsed on the bed half-giggling and half nervous.

“I thought you’d tell her that we were just goofing on Scotty to make him THINK we were hypnotized,” I tried to offer some levity by interjecting a little humor as I snuggled up next to her.

“You might want to get off of me. It’s very possible mom is going to come up here,” my sister was not in a joking mood.

“I wish I could, but Scotty’s orders, remember?”

“You KNOW we could quit at any time? Obeying him. We really aren’t hypnotized. I’ve just really enjoyed doing what he tells us because I wanted to see where it goes,” My sister has told me that a dozen times, but she hasn’t said it in a while.

“It’s like being hypnotized to enjoy a nice, warm, hot bath alone for an hour and then getting offered one. How would you know you did it if because of an implanted suggestion, or because you just wanted a hot bath?”

“Yeah, except I know I used to love hot warm baths. Now I like having my head dunked in the toilet and drowned a little while someone fucks my ass,” my sister grinned. She rolled over and began kissing me lightly around the face and started a little playful foreplay.

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“I doubt very seriously anything is going to be the same after this,” my sister predicted. “I was trying to describe what I think hypnosis is without saying it. It’s a bunch of affirmation and visualization, with some physical and mental conditioning to make you want something you didn’t think you wanted. It’s up to you to make it happen.”

“That’s very succinct,” I complimented her. We moved on to the stage of making-out together where we were kissing heavily, and finger fucking. I loved that part. Radiant.

“I realized halfway through my new lies, that Mom will probably apply pressure on them. Danny will tell mom the lies I told him about us playing a joke on Scotty. Mom will assume that we convinced Mama’s boy to do naughty things to us because we are dirty girls and forbid us from continuing. She will see this as a betrayal because we played our game right under her nose and got caught.”

“What did you call Master?”

“Scotty?” my sister sounded confused when she asked for clarification.

“You called Master a Mama’s Boy. Where did that come from?”

My sister grabbed her mouth as if trying to prevent words from escaping. She removed her finger from my pussy. “Fuck Scotty, he is a piece of shit...” she tested herself by saying that out loud. Then she stood up and looked at me intently. “Fuck you, you dumb whore. You fart in your sleep when your ass isn’t packed!”

I wasn’t offended because she was clearly testing the boundaries of her programming. She got into my bed. I had my sheets on my mattress. We didn’t keep sheets on hers. We had just brought it in after waiting for it to dry out. We usually slept in her bed. My sister pulled the covers over her head and laid there for a few seconds.

She got out of bed and put on some clothes. “Try it,” she suggested. We both started testing our limits and boundaries and found that we could literally do whatever we wanted. At first, we were fearful like Neanderthals climbing to the top of a mountain and learning the valley they lived in all of their lives was not the extent of the world.

Then we got excited and hugged, and then we got a little depressed. Why did this happen? Had we broken ourselves? What was going on? Why the sudden mood swings?

It had been over an hour and still our Masters had not come into our room. They weren’t our masters any longer though. They were just our brothers. We had our freedom. We put on our nightgowns. We hadn’t used them in so long. I thought it would feel restrictive and cumbersome but instead, it felt familiar and appropriate.

A growing sense of realization that the strange phenomena we had experienced had dissipated and we were back to normal washed over us. Clothing in our own room, in our bed, while we slept suddenly made sense and so did sleeping apart.

We flipped off our light and waited.

“I suppose it is for the best,” I said in the darkness.

“Yes, Mom is going to lay the hammer down tomorrow because I opened my big mouth. We won’t be horny bimbos craving punishment any longer. I guess our minds knew we would need them back someday?”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

Then there was silence, and I was alone with my thoughts – so many. What would I do with my freedom? Would I talk to Deuce? Would I go to prom with that nice kid who was finger fucking me on the bus? Would he expect to be able to continue after all of this? Would anyone notice when I go back to dressing more casually at school? Would I keep any of my old clothes? Where are all the pictures, they took of me? Should I back them up on a hard drive to be able to at least prove that I lived through this once – or should I delete them and forget I ever did anything this crazy?

“Tig?”

“Yes, Bethany?”

“Do you want to go back to how things were?” my sister asked plainly.

“Can we?” I found myself responding without even thinking.

She hopped out of bed, undressed in the darkness, and slid back in bed with me. I was grateful to share the warmth of my sister’s body as we drifted to sleep. It was the first night I had not had a dick inside of me in a long time, and we didn’t even play with ourselves or talk. I didn’t feel horny – I felt a sense of melancholy even though I was comfortable snuggled up against her naked warm body.

It was the first night I didn’t have wicked dreams of being suspended in a hot and sweaty barn and milked like some kind of human cow, or subjected to wicked and painful experiments by secretive men in the dark.

In the morning, our alarm went off a few minutes before 5 am. I stripped out of my clothes and waited for Scotty. I had my collar on and I enjoyed wearing it. He was late.

“Should we go check on them?”

“No, we aren’t supposed to,” my sister reminded me that we were supposed to wait for him.

“Yeah, but we can do anything we want.”

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

“I want to sit down on my curtain rod and get a start on my economics homework. Mom might come in though,” I worried. It didn’t seem strange. I wasn’t horny and craving a big cock to fill my ass, but I longed to feel like that again and I thought by doing something I normally did – I could.

“We could lock our door and wait until they knock?” My sister suggested that would give us some privacy.

The concept of locking our door had become alien to me, and it still sounded alien.

Danny and Scotty entered our room together. Scotty was 30 minutes late. They seemed annoyed that we were milling around the room and not in position. “Get in position!”

We hustled to get in line, pulled our ass cheeks apart eagerly, and stood with our chins up eagerly.

My brother started to put us into a trance. “You are falling into my voice,” he began. He saw that we were not reacting appropriately. He told us to stop being so rigid. “Let your cunt flaps hang open, so that they do not touch,” he pushed my pussy apart with his finger very roughly. It felt different than before – intrusive and indelicate. He told us to part the lips on our face and visualize that our cunts are mouths, that can be opened, and filled, and tasted...”

“Master, I think we are not hypnotized any longer,” I admitted in frustration.

“So, jokes over AFTER we got Mom to agree to let you continue?” Danny threw up his hands in frustration. Scotty already knew Danny thought we were pranking him, so he pretended not to hear that.

“Mom said it was okay to continue?” I asked. I no longer felt the need to say, Sir.

“Mom, didn’t use quite those words. After a lengthy conversation, she said that she would monitor your grades, your behavior and your ‘BEHINDS’ as she calls them. She didn’t want us to be too rough with you, and she doesn’t want us to discuss it with her.”

“Mom’s going to let things continue?” we were still in shock.

“In a manner of speaking, we do not have to consult her about punishing you, but she has said that if you complain then that is it – one strike, and we are done. She said that if you go back to smoking that she’d blister ALL of our asses for convincing her to go along with this. The main thing is she doesn’t want it rubbed in her face.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I need you to remember that I am your Master, and that the proper term to address me is Sir. We do not know what it means. I do not think Mom knows what it means. She said she would monitor things.”

“What did Dad say?”

“He was actually on your side. He pointed out that you are beautiful teenage girls and if you WANTED to do kinky things there would be no shortage of volunteers. He pointed out that with 10 minutes and a TikTok account, you could probably summon a dozen perverted men with white vans, a case of duct tape, and some chloroform to do unspeakable things.”

“That doesn’t sound like he was on our side,” I observed.

“Mom didn’t get it at first either, but Dad’s point was if you wanted to do something kinky for your own pleasure, you could get a boy like Deuce or a strange guy you meet on Craigslist or something to do whatever you wanted to you. They wouldn’t be able to stop you, and at least this way they could monitor us and that you ARE doing well in school, behaving better, and committed to helping here. He convinced her that whatever we were doing was working. He mentioned losing many of his friends from the military to cancer, and how he wished he had given smoking up sooner. He said that he’d have a lot more time to watch you two grow up into young women, and he’d be able to actually stand you if this works, and if doesn’t then he’d be the one to pull the plug.”

“Wow!”

“One problem,” Danny shrugged. “You were never really hypnotized, and all of this is actual bullshit. So, at some point, Tig is going to want to smoke, and Bunny is going to start going into her passive-aggressive shell.”

“I will not!” Bethany became defensive.

“That’s a problem for another day, Danny,” Scotty wasn’t going to argue with him about hypnosis as an effective tool to implant suggestions. Instead, he asked us to show him that we could break the rules of our programming.

“Pig!” he said to no avail. I wanted to do it. I wanted to get down and oink, but I stood there. Bethbaby!” he tried another trigger. “Radiant! Majestic, terrific, humble?” he asked.

“What are those words?” I asked.

“Some are from Charlotte’s Web. Charlotte wrote them on the web to impress the farmer, but they gave credit to the pig. It used to be my favorite book, but when we were little, you wanted it. You cried until mom gave it to you, and it became YOUR book. Then you destroyed it.”

OUCH – what a metaphor. I realized that he saw himself as the wise Charlotte and me as the pig that gets to take all of the credit. I apologized and he said that he had let that anger go a long time ago. “I cannot change the past, I can only adjust the present. I still have some resentment, but the anger is long gone. Thank you for apologizing even when you don’t have to do it, Tig.”

“The name is Tiggy last I checked, Sir, and I did HAVE to apologize, because it is the right thing to do,” I said.

“Wait, are you hypnotized again?” Danny was confused.

“I think what happened was a dissociative self-preservation stimulus was so strong last night that you disconnected from the suggestive therapy that I’ve given you in order to save yourself. It’s not uncommon. Imagine for instance, if I implanted a thought that you were the greatest swimmer in the world and told you to swim the English Channel. At some point, when you reach a point where your body is waterlogged and you cannot reconcile the suggestion with reality, your programming breaks down and a primal survival instinct takes over. In this case, last’s night conversation may have brought you to a point that you knew Mom would likely stop you from completing your new personality paradigm”

“In English please, Professor Hawking?” My brother asked sarcastically.

“They pressed their reset button because they panicked,” Scotty explained flatly.

“A counter theory, if I may? They were never hypnotized, shit their pants last night, and want to stop because now they are embarrassed?” Danny suggested sardonically.

“It’s just as well. I was planning to slowly bring you out of this heightened state. I do not know if it is healthy long-term, and it is selfish of me. You’ve been constantly horny, and I’ve used your insecurities to drive you to try harder. Look in the mirror, Tig...”

I didn’t look as plain as I normally did, and I wasn’t as fat as I thought I was. I was still a little chubby, but I thought I had a big belly. “I look the same as I always did,” I lied “like a lump of shit.”

“It’s possible there is residual suggestions buried so deeply that you cannot easily unroot them. The good news is that Mom is likely to give us a wide berth for a while. I can help you return to normal. I would like to leave some suggestions that you will not be angry with me for using you as subjects in my experiments, but I think it is only fair that you judge me based on your baseline feelings and not the heightened ones I helped you accomplish.”

“Normal? You mean go back to how we were?” I asked.

“Yes, in a manner of speaking. You will have all of your experiences, and you may remember them fondly, or poorly. I did not implant a memory block, so it is possible that when I do this many of the things you believe you have forgotten will return. I assure you, I will do this gradually. The challenge is that as I bring you further away from the feelings of submission you have now, the more likely it will be that you react poorly to completing the training. What I would like to do before we go downstairs have each of you record some videos just for yourselves of messages you can tell your future selves to encourage you to finish deprogramming?”