Chapter 19

Session 29:

Something was wrong.

It had been four days since I’d last hypnotized my sister ... that wasn’t what was wrong, though it certainly wasn’t helping.

No, I hadn’t put my sister under for four days because something had gone wrong. Something had changed, and I didn’t want to risk making a move until I had a better understanding of what.

Don’t get me wrong - I desperately wanted to hypnotize her, for so many reasons. To see her tits again. To cum on them, or have her lick my cock until I came into her mouth.

But more than anything, to find out what the fuck was going on.

Four days ago, Marcie had come home, chatted to my sister, and then refused to tell me what they’d talked about. She hadn’t been around again since, else I would have tried to push her and find out what was happening.

But without knowing what they’d talked about, I didn’t want to go around to Marcie’s (in case it exacerbated the problem) and I didn’t want to ask Lucy if I could hypnotize her.

I was stuck, stalemated without knowing why. I couldn’t take any actions ... I had to wait until they came to me. And for whatever reasons, no one was.

Even after all this time, I don’t really understand what people think is happening when I put them under. I know that they find it relaxing, and that no matter what we talk about they wake up happy and feeling refreshed, but what do they think I’m saying while they’re out? My mother, my sister, Marcie - how do they explain the missing time?

I don’t know that I’ll ever know. But whatever they think is going on, I know that they like it.

And so after four agonizing days, my sister approached me and asked if I’d put her under.

“Okay Lucy,” I said as soon as her eyes glazed over and her whole body relaxed. “The other day, when Marcie got home and you two went into your room to talk: would you tell me what you guys talked about?”

“No,” she said, and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully.

Something had happened in that conversation - something that had changed everything. See, since that day my sister had stopped teasing me.

Not that it had ever been explicit; she’d never flashed me her pussy or stripped off her clothes and danced or anything like that. But since it had been suggested, my sister had thoroughly embraced the idea of teasing me with her body - I got regular glimpses of her cleavage, her panty-clad ass. If it was just the two of us, she’d walk around in lingerie or a bikini, casually showing herself off for her younger brother.

I’d convinced her that it was something I wouldn’t even notice. Believe me, pretending not to pay attention to my sister’s incredible body was a hell of a challenge ... but I’d always managed.

But for whatever reason, the teasing had stopped. Something had changed, and I needed to know why.

“Would you tell me why you’ve stopped teasing me?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me why you won’t tell me what you talked about?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me ... I paused. I’d mentally run this conversation a thousand times over the last few days, but I guess I’d been more optimistic when it was in my head. I hadn’t expected to hit nothing but a billion consecutive dead ends.

Sitting there, staring at my sister in silence, I made a decision. This session wasn’t going to end without me moving forward. Sure, I’d taken a step back - now it was time for two steps forward.

I’d waited too long and worked too hard for this bullshit. It was time for a change, and if that meant taking a different tack, that was what I’d do.

“Okay Lucy,” I said. “Would you ever make out with Marcie?”

Nod. Not even a moment of hesitation. It looked like my sister knew what was what, even if Marcie insisted on being difficult about it.

“Do you think Marcie would ever make out with you?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me why not?”

“No.”

God damn it.

“Do you know why not?”

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath. In one of the billion times I’d run this conversation through my head, I’d come up with something that I was hoping not to use, but was sure would be effective.

“Hypothetical: Marcie is dead.”

Nod.

I know, I know. It was a pretty dark direction to go. But I wanted - no, I needed to know what had changed, and as long as Marcie was “alive”, I knew that Lucy would never betray her trust.

All I had to do was be very careful not to accidentally wake Lucy up. If she thought Marcie was dead and then ran into her on the street, or got a text ... it would not end well, of that I was sure.

“She was hit by a car crossing the road. She didn’t feel any pain when she went.”

Nod. Not immediately, but when she did nod, it was firm. Confident. Lucy’s face remained totally blank, but a single tear fell from her eye as I watched, fighting my instinct to tell her that everything was fine, that Marcie was alive and well.

I love my sister, after all, and the last thing I want to do is cause her any pain. But I needed results, and I was sure that this was the way to get them.

“After the funeral, I pull out a bottle of whiskey, and ask if you want a drink.”

Nod. I was slightly taken aback by that - I’d half-expected her to refuse that, and only agree when she was the one providing the alcohol. She normally liked to drive these things, after all.

I guess she was in shock?

I decided not to question the gift I’d been given, and continued.

“What do you say?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “Please.”

“I hand you the bottle and you take a swig.”

Nod.

“You hand it back, and I drink as much as you did.”

Nod.

This was going better than I had expected.

“An hour later, we’ve finished half the bottle each, and we’re both pretty wasted.”

Nod. Great. I’d never used alcohol in a hypothetical before, but I was fairly sure as the drink hypothetically pumped through her veins, it would serve to lower her defenses.

“I start talking about Marcie.”

Nod. Another tear trickled down the side of my sister’s face, but I pressed through. You don’t make an omelette without breaking a few hearts.

“I ask what the last thing you guys talked about was.”

Nod.

“What do you say?”

My sister paused, and I panicked. If she woke up now she might think she was drunk, and she’d definitely think Marcie was dead.

“Wait!” I said, and my sister’s blank eyes focused slightly, a sort of disturbing sight. “Will you tell me the last thing she talked about with her?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Phew. Still, better safe than sorry.

“I ask what the last thing you talked about with her was. What do you say?”

In a slurred voice, my sister responded with a single word:

“You.”

Session B43:

“Would you fuck my sister?”

“Yes.”

“Would you eat her out?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let her go down on you?”

“Yes.”

“What do you most want to do with her?”

“I want to suck on her tits. I want to suck on her nipples and watch her face as I do. I want to roll her nipples around my mouth, and then reach down and feel how wet I’m making her. Then I want to slip two fingers into her wetness and listen to her moan.”

I unzipped my pants, and positioned myself at her entrance.

“Keep going,” I said. “I’m going to fuck you while you talk.”

She nodded and moved her hips into place, not pausing for a second.

Session 29:

I held my breath.

So, it had happened. My sister had discussed me with Marcie. What did she know? Why had things changed?