Chapter 1

2018 was a very good year.

When this started we, Mom and my two twin sisters, had just watched the Royal Wedding of Prince Harry to American actress Meghan Markle on May 19th, 2018 on our big family TV in the den. It was a long lavish ceremony at Windsor Castle. Alice and Barb, my twin sisters, even insisted on recording it on the VCR, and re-watching it. After it was over Alice and Barb preempted the TV remote and channel surfed until they finally landed on a Netflix’s show, “Follow This”, and a episode titled “The Internet Whisperers”. This turned out to be the first episode of a new Netflix series, and was journalist Scaachi Koul’s exploration of the rapidly growing world of Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, ASMR audios and videos. I had never heard of it until then, but I was willing to learn. Besides I was outvoted.

“We’re into ASMR, Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, James.” My 18 year old twin sister Alice proudly announced to me their younger brother the next morning at the breakfast table, out of the clear blue sky. This was shortly before they, the Twins, were off to their local high school, Well on thinking back about it, it might not have been so much out of the clear blue sky really. That was because we, me, Mom, and my two twin sisters, had all watched that new 2018, Netflix’s show. a episode of “Follow This”, titled “The Internet Whisperers”, the night before.

According to some scientific researchers on the show last night, it seemed there might even be a slight connection between ASMR, Mesmerism, hypnosis, and even a hormone produced in the hypothalamus Oxytocin. I ... we, I guess you would have to say, had learned from the show last night.

“What, like that hypnosis stuff on TV last night Sis?” I innocently asked Alice, feeling a wild burst of interest all of a sudden swelling up inside my meager horny male teenage breast, and other parts south of that.

“Ew! James, No! No! No! Not anything weird, or kinky, like that James.” They both exclaimed together rolling their beautiful emerald green eyes at me,

“Not something creepy, disgusting, or weird, like hypnosis. It’s just auditory stimulation.” Both my older sisters told me together and laughed.

Creepy? Disgusting? Weird? That sorta stung a little coming as it did from both my own 18 year old twin sisters like that. My interest in hypnosis ... particularly it’s potential uses when it came to sex wasn’t weird, disgusting, or creepy, at all. Oh, well, I guess it was in a way, but you try being a 16 year old hormone-addled teenage guy with an over active imagination, and no real outlet for his sexual needs and desires, and then you innocently stumble onto hypnosis porn on the Internet and YouTube.

Sure, I’ve browsed a few adult web sites, read a few instructional guides, and books, on it. I’ve even looked into some medical studies and experiments about hypnosis, but then what horny teenage guy hasn’t done strange weird things like that in the hopes it’ll get them laid somehow? So I chuckled along with Alice and Barb for the moment, feeling my hopes and dreams crumble to dust around me in my mind. So much for that dream of hypnotizing my beautiful sister ... sisters into having sex with me.

But maybe I owe you the reader an explanation about the Twins and the Ew! part about hypnosis and mind control being creepy, disgusting, and weird. We are what’s known as, “Mixed Triplets”, an identical pair plus a spare, ha, ha, ha. When a woman releases two eggs, which are both fertilized by separate sperm and then one egg splits, you end up with a set of identical twins plus a spare. This is the most common variation of triplets. Alice was first born, Barb three minutes latter, and me, the odd sibling, last to be popped out a whole 6 minutes latter.

Hey, I’m fine with demons, warlocks, evil mad scientist like Frankenstein, and vampires. Maybe it’s a male thing, but seeing a hot chick get mind controlled by a evil demon, or hypnotized by the evil vampire’s eyes, is a Hell of a turn on for me I admit. Hey, I’m not alone in this, if this stuff didn’t sell Hammer Films would be out of business. But the Twins refused to watch any of that. They will run screaming for Mama when a commercial comes on advertising one at the theater.

I guess it all started when my twin sisters were about 10, well before they had their first period anyway. At the time my favorite TV shows were, reruns of The Man from U.N.C.L.E, The Night Stalker, with good old Carl Kolchak, and especially reruns of Elvira’s Movie Macabre which came on every Saturday. At the time this all started Boobalishous Elvira was showing the (1970-71), Karnstein Trilogy: The Vampire Lovers, Lust for a Vampire, and lastly but not least Twins of Evil, back to back. These were R rated vampire movies from back in the early 1980’s.

To make a long story short Alice and Barb started waking up in the middle of the night screaming they were being attacked by a vampire. The Twins blamed it on what I was making them watch on TV, and Mom like always, sided with them. So no more Elvira’s Movie Macabre for James.

Hey, it was still pretty racy stuff even back in 2010, with Carmilla Karnstein, the beautiful seductive female lesbian vampire ... by-the-way a female vampire is called a vampirette, a young girl vampire is a vampirene ... mesmerizing all the beautiful young virgins in the neighborhood with her eyes, and then sucking their blood, and other vital bodily fluids, until they died. All this while carrying on a lesbian love affair with the virgin’s really hot female tutor. In the end draining them both of their blood and other vital bodily fluids, and then moving on to the next virgin, ha, ha, ha.

Anyway hypnosis, Mesmerism, or anything to do with mind control was strictly off limits and taboo at our house from then on. You will be surprised at the number of TV shows that have hypnosis in their episodes, even cruel evil hypnotists that are always ready to take advantage of sweet young innocent beautiful vulnerable young virgins. Even Walt Disney, the poster child for PG-13, had the Misadventures of Merlin Jones in 1964 staring Tommy Kirk, and Annette Funicello, even a sequel called The Monkey’s Uncle the following year, both had teenage girls getting accidentally hypnotized in them. The Man from U.N.C.L.E, Charlie’s Angels, especially S5.E13, Attack Angles. The short synopsis of that one reads; When Charlie’s Angels investigate a couple of suspicious deaths at Western Techtronics, Julie falls under the trance of a evil hypnotist who specializes in using beautiful brainwashed young women as killers.

Anyway both my sisters freaked out in the middle of watching that one, and the TV was heavily censored after that. Well until we were all 15 anyway, at 15 we were officially emancipated by Mom. At 15 I got to buy my own TV, and got to choose what I watched in my own room, or on the Internet, much to my twin sister’s displeasure.

So imagine my surprise that night when I found myself, and the Twins, sitting there in the den eating popcorn and watching that new 2018 show on the big screen TV about ASMR, Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response that night. Well anyway that was when I found out they were both into ASMR. It even turned out that ASMR was into hypnosis and Mesmerism, and there even seemed to be a connection with the hormone Oxytocin, if that makes any sense.

“Auditory Stimulation Sis?” I asked her pretending interest, like her cruel heartless words of a second ago hadn’t just stabbed me right through the heart.

“Yes, Auditory Stimulation James.” My beautiful sister Alice huffed out indignantly.

“Still just sounds like some weird sexual kink to me Sis.” I said back nonchalantly, and Alice rolled her beautiful emerald green eyes at me again.

“It’s not sexual at all James. ASMR, Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response is very scientific and biological. The sounds you listen to give you these pleasant “tingles” along the scalp, neck, and back. The experimenters describe it as a static tingling sensation originating from the back of the head, then propagating to the neck, shoulders, arms, spine, and legs, even to the feet and toes, which makes people feel relaxed and alert. I don’t know exactly what all it does James, I just listen to them because they helps me sleep.” Alice told me innocently.

“Right Sis, like anyone needs help sleeping?” I dubiously, maybe even sarcastically, shot back at her without really thinking. Well I never had any trouble falling asleep anyway. I sleep the sleep of the truly innocent, ha, ha.

“Yes, James sometimes I ... we ... both of us, need help going to sleep sometimes, I ... we ... both of us, used to get these splitting migraine headaches just before we went to bed.” She replied back angrily to my mocking tone of voice I think.

“So it helps you sleep Sis. That’s totally why you and Barb listen to it at night, alone in your bedroom on that big double king-size bed doing God only knows what with each other Sis?” I questioned her dubiously again.

Honestly, to tell you the truth, I believed her. I very much doubted my innocent sister Alice ... maybe I should say sisters, Alice and Barb, short for Barbara ... jilled themselves off to some silly ASMR stuff every night, but as their (6 minute) younger, but much smarter brother, it was my job ... practically my responsibility ... nay, my official duty in life is to tease my older sisters at every opportunity I get. Always reminding them I might be the younger, but I’m also the smartest. Her and her shadow Barb just rolled their identical beautiful emerald green eyes at me again.

“Do you want to try it out, or not James?” She demanded stamping her small foot at me annoyingly, and crossing her arms over her chest ... correction ... crossing her arms under her abundant breasts, her very abundant breasts that God in his infinite wisdom had gifted her and Barb with. In her right hand, that she was holding out to me, was an old beat-up MP3 player and set of headphones. A relic bought years ago as a Christmas present that still somehow managed to survive and still worked.

“I just thought you might like to try it James, but if not...” She demanded impatiently, stamping that same small foot even harder if that’s even possible.

“Sure, sure Sis,” I interrupted her. “I’ll give it a try Sis, but if I get some creepy, disgusting, or weird sexual kink, or fetish, because of this...” Alice swung for me, and hit my arm playfully. Then she held out her ancient MP3 player for me to take.

Maybe at this point I should describe my family for you the reader. First of all, we all live up in the Hollywood, San Bernardino hills, in a Ranch style Beach House. Yes, you heard right, a Ranch style Beach House. No, I don’t know exactly who designed it, or even who really built it really. It seemed to be some kind of group project thing by some governmental agency, but the whole rambling Ranch style house is raised up 18 feet in the air on these massive steel reinforced concrete columns. Somebody once told me our house was an experiment designed to withstand the “Big One”. The Old 2000 Milieu Prophecy was everything on the west side of California will fall into the Pacific Ocean someday soon, ha, ha. Of course the scientist still project the San Andreas fault line could cause a devastating 7.75 earthquake in California’s, L.A. Basin, by 2030.

Anyway the house itself sets in the middle of a flat city block sized piece of land, it’s like they somehow managed to sheared off the entire top of the mountain. Makes a great parking lot. The house itself contains no less than ten master bed rooms, two complete dinning rooms, two complete kitchens, five complete bathrooms, and other miscellaneous rooms. Under the house is used for parking the cars and other things. Currently there are our three cars, Dad’s Lexis, Mom’s custom BMW, and a wide body Ford utility truck we all use to bring up supplies. The wide eclectic redwood porch around the house has a Jacuzzi Power Active Swim Spa that offers the benefits of in-place swimming, a relaxing hydromassage, and the benefits of a heated all seasons pool. As you see we are spoiled little rich kids that haven’t ever wanted for anything.

Dad, Mickel (Mike) Jones, is a modestly famous, some say handsome, high energy plasma researcher at one of California’s biggest colleges now. The reason I say modestly famous is because he appears in a lot of state power company adds. People say Dad projects an authority figure on the TV screen well, and he has natural charisma. Dad’s 6 foot 4, and looks like Klaatu (Michael Rennie) from that movie The Day the Earth Stood Still.

At the time Mom, Linda Flanigan, met Dad she was one of his underage college students, ha, ha. When she met him she decided she wanted him. What Mom wants Mom gets. What does Mom look like you ask? Think Cassandra Peterson, the real life Cassandra Peterson, not her alter ego Elvira: Mistress of the Dark, 5 foot 7, 34D, 38-26-37. Hey Mom is super star hot, of course she’s a natural blonde, but her favorite thing is to throw these big wild private parties up here on Linda’s Hill. Yes, on Google Maps it’s actually marked Linda’s Hill.

At the time Mom met Dad he was 42, and Mom was almost 17, did I forget to mention that Mom was super smart too. Yes, she joined Mensa, the Genius Club, with a Stanford Binet IQ of 142, at 14. My Mom, Linda, decided she wanted Dad, and she systematically went for it. Dad himself admits that he never stood a chance with her near military campaign to woo him, he even swears she used Viagra on him. Mom herself never denies it. She became his research assistant first, and soon after that his wife. Dad is still a mild mannered local college professor, but Mom now is a top secret government scientist almost always away on some secret project now that we are, according to her, old enough to take care of ourselves. That’s when we reached the tender age of 15 by-the-way.

Six months after their actual marriage, when she was a ripe old age of 18, Mom became pregnant, and had us. Us is, Alice, Barb (Barbara), and me, James. She tells us all the time we almost killed her while she was carrying us to term. Anyway after we were delivered, the most painful experience in her life according to her, she had her tubes tied. She also tells us it was an accident she got pregnant with us in the first place, and she doesn’t want to repeat the process.

As you might have guessed by now Mom is not the maternal nurturing motherly type. She’s not no June Cleaver, in Leave It to Beaver mom, with her husband, Ward, and their two sons, Wally and “Beaver”, living the great American middle class dream in mythical Suburbia. No huggy feelly with Mom, but Mom is a very sexual person. Mom is the dominant one in the marital relationship, if anything Dad is a submissive whelp that has very little paternal feelings toward us his offspring at all, and always avoids us as much as possible.

Mom’s favorite event of the year is her special, “By Invitation Only”, Halloween party where ... you guessed it ... she dresses up as Elvira; Mistress of the Dark. She puts on the long black wig, and the custom made long slinky black silk dress that’s split open all the way down the front to exposed her magnificent boobs and shaved and pierced cunt, I kid you not.

Mom has both nipples, her belly button, and clit pierced with these large shiny, lets say 19 mm (3/4”), solid 14-karat gold horseshoe barbells with their gold balls on each end. Then she struts her stuff in front of all her drooling male admirers from the Lab, Capital Hill, and Pentagon. Even if your female you may not know this, but the lift and squeeze together bra she wears with the outfit that night is actually glued onto her skin with this special silicone glue. I’ll say it again Mom is one Hell of a hot sexy bitch in heat on Halloween night.

The piercing I’m actually referring to is a clitorial hood piercing. There’s a big distinction between the two, it’s important to note the difference. The clitoral hood is the skin covering the sensitive bundle of tissue. The clitoris, technically the clitoral glan, is a bundle of nerve fibers, the ultra-sensitive “nub” underneath the fleshy hood. When considering getting an actual clitoris piercing, the first thing that must be determined is the size of the clitoris. It has to be large enough to accommodate the jewelry your going to wear in it. As a general rule, to even consider piercing the clitoris it should be as large as the end of a pinky finger. Yes, that large.

Anyway Mom doesn’t have a clit piercing, she has the triangle piercing that heightens her pleasure during direct clit, or vaginal, stimulation, or even anal penetration. That’s because the internal parts of the clitoris itself extends downward to encircle the vaginal canal and even reach toward the anus. I guess at this point you are wondering how I know all this being male myself? Well as I say Mom is very open about her sexuality with The Twins, and naturally when they ... we were emancipated at 15 the first thing the Twins wanted was to get their clits pierced just like Mom. That requires parental consent. What they wanted it for I didn’t ... don’t know, I’d never even caught one of them masturbating, though they had caught me plenty of times. Hey, I’ve already told you I’m just a normal teenage guy with out of control hormones that’s really smart.

So Mom sat all three of us down, and gave us the good old, “Bird And The Bees” talk. NO! she told the Twins flatly about getting a clitoris ... clit ... fun button ... piercing. It seems as a general rule, to even consider the piercing of the clitoris gland itself it should be at lest the size of the end of a pinky finger. Yes, that big. Smaller than that, and the piercing has a good chance of being rejected, not a good thing. The clitoral hood itself should also be smaller and easily retracted, leaving the clitoris exposed. Too large, or too tight a hood, can put pressure on the piercing, interfering with healing, causing trauma, and contributing to the risk of the piercing shifting, or even being rejected all together. Bottom line is that piercing the “fun button” itself can lead to some very serious infections, and even nerve damage, everything from loosing all feeling in it, to extreme continuous excruciating pain. Mom told the Twins flat out she didn’t personally consider it worth the risk, and she was warning the Twins not to consider it either.

I call Barb, Alice’s Shadow because Alice does all the talking, I could say she does all the thinking too because Alice is very bossy. I found this was not too uncommon in identical twins from my psychology studies in college. The school system, their psychologists, and even their psychiatrists, actually tried to change it by splitting them up early in kindergarten and elementary school, but it didn’t work. Barb is still Alice’s shadow. Alice cuts her hair short, but makes Barb wear it long even though Barb complains a lot. In fact I sometimes still find Alice dressing Barb like a doll, and combing her hair while we watch TV.

Me, you ask, well I might be the youngest (by 6 whole minutes), ha, ha, but I got the brains in the bunch from Mom and Dad. The school system, their psychologists, and psychiatrists, found I was very smart, but almost asocial. My IQ score was 145, 3 points higher that Mom’s, which means that I am a certified genius, Einstein’s was only 160. So what that means in practical application is that while my two (6 minutes) older twin sisters are seniors in high school this year, I’m a 18 year old second year college sophomore in advanced Psychics and Engineering classes, with a minor elective in Psychology at the local big city university.

Hey, I don’t, well didn’t, like the asocial thing on my record when I found out what it meant. Asocial is defined as: 1. avoiding social interaction, 2. inconsiderate of or hostile to others. I think I get along well with others I explained reasonably to the group of headshrinkers that were studying me like a butterfly pinned to a mounting card. They explained to me that asocial simply means feeling, or being secluded, from others. It’s not a personality disorder like antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). 1. avoiding contact; not gregarious. 2. unconcerned about the welfare of others. 3. hostile to society or social practices.

Hey, I was good with that until I figured out how to hack into their computer files. When I did I found that one, you know it would be the smart pretty young blonde female Doc hiding behind the big oversized pair of horn rimmed glasses. The lens were plain glass, and really she wasn’t that much older than me. She was from the Philadelphia Institute of Psychiatry. She wanted to classify me as a borderline psychopath. I looked it up on the Internet. Sociopath vs. Psychopath, though they have similarities, empathy is a notable distinction. Both sociopaths and psychopaths lack the ability to care for other people. They also use manipulation tactics to get their way. However, psychopaths tend to be cold, and in control of their emotions, whereas sociopaths are emotionally volatile.

Cold, and in control of their emotions, lacks empathy, uses manipulation tactics to get their way. Yes, that certainly sounded like my twin sisters all right, but not me. I was the one they always ganged up on. Well the one Mom, Linda, and my identical twin sisters, Alice and Barb, ganged up on anyway. I think I have plenty of empathy, and I really do love my Mom and older twin sisters.

I don’t think I did so bad in the DNA department myself either, I’m 6 foot 4, 190 pounds, green eyed, and light brown hair. Like Dad I look something like Klaatu too, ha, ha. I lettered in wrestling, and have a brown belt in Karate. But God himself, or Mother Nature, outdid him, or herself, with my twin sisters. They say, “a picture is worth a thousand words”, so think of Russian Internet modeling star Mary Nabokova. Her height is only 5 foot 3, at 120 pounds. She has brown hair, and light brown eyes. Her body measurements are 34-25-35, but don’t let those measurements fool you, she’s stacked. She’s a European F cup, that’s a Triple D, or DDD cup here in the States. This is because here in the US bra manufacturers prefer to use the D-DD-DDD systems rather than the D-E-F system that is preferred by European manufacturers.

The Twins sorta look like her in the face too. Think long narrow heart-shaped face, long straight aquiline nose, high sculpted cheekbones, a smattering of freckles on a blemish free alabaster skin, natural red luscious plump bee stung lips that begged for kissing, and crystal clear innocent sky blue eyes. The reason that I don’t mention hair color, or style, is that at age 7 they started their own individual hair styles, and colors, to mark their individuality, ha, ha. The only thing you can count on is Alice has short hair, and Barb long hair. That’s the only way even I can tell them apart.

I didn’t know it at the time, but girls start to hit puberty as young as 6 today. The first sign of puberty for girls is breast development, or breast budding, and yes me and every other boys ... males ... in class noticed them right off. They were born with what some call strawberry blonde hair, a reddish tint to their blonde hair, but that changed when they were 7. Also Alice became more bossy, and poor Barb really became her shadow for real. Alice tried to boss me too, but I had no part of that, but they were always ganging up on me as we grew up.

In junior high I went out for the basketball team, at 6 foot 4 I thought I was a shoo-in, but I soon found that at my school at least, basketball was reserved for off season football jocks. I got into a fight with one that evolved into the whole football team piling on, and I got a badly broken arm out of it. When the school principal and Board of Education ruled it was an unfortunate accident my mother enrolled me in Karate. After that I went from the one getting hurt, to the one doing most of the hurting, which made me extremely unpopular with the football team and the school system itself.

When you break the star quarterback’s collar bone on the first day back to school, of the new school year, or should I say new football season. Even after clearly being threatened by him in public, and then forced to defend yourself, it sorta puts a damper on things. This time the school principal and Board of Education were forced to expel the former quarterback, and the principal was given a reprimand that went in his permanent record. My new lawyer was worth every penny Mom spent on her, ha, ha, ha.

Of course with their bodies Alice and Barb became cheerleaders, and them and their click of the prettiest girls in school pretty much ran the school. At 16 me and the twins got our driver’s licenses, and me and Alice and Barb got cars. Me the standard Toyota Camry in black, and Alice and Barb bright red ones with a panoramic moonroof so they could drive around waving at everybody in their silly parades. They wanted to get a convertible, but Mom nixed that right off because of the insurance.

At that time my dating became more of a Gladiatorial event than a social event, I have to believe that my loving twin sisters put them up to it. When the third prettiest girl in school, who just happens to be a cheerleader too, asks you to take her out roller-skating, and then to Milo’s on a date, what do you say? What testosterone pumping male can turn her down, Well who can resist the urge of the challenge anyway? That’s even if he knows that her present boyfriend is a knuckle dragging upperclassman that is a known bully. Of course when said upperclassman shows up, and challenges you, it’s sorta embarrassing when your date cusses you out for hurting her boyfriend, and refuses to even allow you to drive her back home.

Of course it doesn’t get you laid, but it does give you a solid reputation as somebody not to mess around with after it happens three or four more times in a row, ha, ha, ha. I have to admit that I was sorta relieved when I was double promoted out of high school, and started college, bypassing three more or less dull years of high school.

But now back to ASMR, Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, and Alice’s ancient Mp3 player.

Later in my room I sat back in bed, headphones on, listening to the audio file my sister had prepared for me, I couldn’t help but feel I was wasting my time, but I owed her at least a try. At first there was a woman’s voice talking in my ears, her voice was low, soft, and sort of sultry, but it wasn’t helping me sleep. If anything, the damn voice was annoying as Hell, and keeping me awake. Normally I’d have been soundly asleep ages ago if I hadn’t been listening to this ASMR stuff of Alice’s.

Before climbing into bed, I’d read up a little on what ASMR is on the Internet, and I thought I knew what it was meant to feel like. Mostly, I figured it was supposed to feel like tingles or goosebumps on your scalp and neck. But I felt nothing, not even a flicker of sensation from this file. The only thing I could feel at this moment was annoyance. That voice in my ears was really getting on my nerves.

How long were these files supposed to be I finally asked myself? At that point I grabbed the MP3 player off my side-table, and looked at how long the audio file was, then I did a double take. 3 hours worth of music recorded?! Surely not, that must be some kind of mistake. The antiquated technology must be acting up, or something. Alice couldn’t possibly listen to this stuff for 3 hours at night ... every night ... in order to fall asleep. No way! Could she? But if she did?

I fast-forwarded the audio, paused it a few minutes ahead of where I was and pressed the “Play” button again. This time a different female voice was talking. I fast-forwarded again and got a male voice this time. Same audio file, but different voices. I did this several more times and got several more different voices. Alice I realized, must have smashed together several shorter files into one long one for this one I reasoned?

These new voices were even more annoying than the first voice I found out fast. The deep low male voice was talking about supposedly soothing things, but it only gave me a headache. I sighed, pulled the headphones off and turned the Mp3 player off, and set it aside. As I climbed under the covers of my bed this time to go to sleep, I closed my eyes and imagined Alice laying in bed listening to this crap every night for hours.

In my mind’s eye I pictured Alice wearing a sexy, almost transparent nightie, something sheer and white with cute little pink bows over her nipples. Sweet and girlie at the same time, just like Alice herself was, but also naughty and grownup at the same time. Showing off the curves my sister had developed over the last few years. Curves that still continued to develop in amazing ways.

The image I had of my sister, laying there in bed, consumed all my thoughts. I imagined her blond hair flowing down her shoulders to her collarbone ... it wasn’t very long, but it was nice hair. Though most of the time she had it up in a ponytail it didn’t reach past her shoulders. In my imagination, her green eyes were shut tight, her pouting ruby red lips were parted slightly, and her tongue was licking her luscious red lips as one of her hands played with one of her breasts, and the other reached down her body winding up down between her legs. Hey, she might not touch herself listening to this ASMR crap, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pretend she did in my own wet dreams. Hey, it’s my dream after all.