High School Hypnotism Ch 03

I stood there in the bathroom getting dried, trying to make sense of the current situation. I had almost put Jess under hypnosis in the shower and sent her back to her room. Almost. And there was a very large part of me, even now, that wished that I had.

The problem was that I didn't know what to do with my feelings.

I loved my sister. That part was easy. I was maybe even a little in love with her, as most guys are with sisters they sincerely care about. Nonetheless, there was still an incest angle to consider that had me more than a little upset with myself. It wasn't like I was bereft of other possibilities for sex partners. I mean, Jesus, I had already established by that time that there would be pussy enough, pussy to spare, and in the case of my buddy, Jerry, pussy enough to go around, apparently. So there was never a physical necessity for continuing to screw Jess, because, worst case, I had a hand and a computer with internet capability.

The conversation in my head continued back and forth, but ultimately when I thought of what had just happened, I would get a perking of interest on the part of my dick.

"Shut up, you," I said to it irritably, "this is your fault in the first place."

But I never could talk any sense into the brainless thing.

I finished combing my wet hair and put on a big, thick terrycloth robe. Then I stepped into the halls and trotted off to Jess' room. She was under her covers, comforter pulled up to her neck, and she had a serious expression on her face. I wasn't sure quite what to make of it, but I wasn't planning to get drawn off course. I had an agenda, now, and intended to follow through with it.

I closed the door behind me, and Jess sat up, bedclothes dropping to her lap. She was bare as far as I could see and she looked great. Her nipples were tightly crinkled, indicating either arousal or a significant chill. The room seemed warm enough, so I bet on the latter, which was flattering.

"Sit down, Lee," she said, patting the bed beside her.

I stepped instead to her desk and pulled out the chair. "Thanks. I think under the circumstances it might be better if I sat here."

She smiled lazily. "Ok. If it suits you." She yawned expressively, twisting her legs beneath her and extended her arms. She also lay back down, entirely uncovered, and looked at me with an "Oops! What happened here?" kind of expression.

I looked her over while she smiled at me, lingering over the curves and planes of her body. The thing is, Jess was beautiful, even if she wasn't, quite, pretty. Her face, asleep or in repose, was almost plain. Her hair was a light brown and straight, and her body, as I've noted was nice and getting better with exercise, but still nothing exceptional. The thing is, though, that everything changed when she smiled. Her face would – still does - light up almost incandescently, and she is transformed from not quite pretty to outright beautiful.

And she was smiling right then, damn it.

This was going to be a lot more difficult than I thought. It got even worse when she began stroking and touching herself all over her body, still watching me closely and smiling. If I didn't do something quickly, I was going to be all over momentarily. I triggered her, and she sank into sleep.

I sat down beside her. I still wanted to kiss her from stem to stern and continue the action from the shower, but I held off. "Jess, why do you want to have sex with me?"

"Because I love you. I always have."

"Why didn't I ever know it? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I couldn't. I could never think of a way that didn't sound wrong."

"So why is it ok now?"

"Because something's different. You're different. More sexual. More open to try new things."

"Do you know that I love you, too?"

She sighed. "I've always known. Even when we were kids, I've known."

"What did you know, Jess?"

"I asked Mom once if I could marry you when we grew up, and she said brothers and sisters couldn't marry. But I wanted to then."

This was getting uncomfortably close to the heart. "How about now, Jess?"

"I would marry you if I could. I just want to be close to you, like when we were kids."

"How close were we as kids, Jess? What do you mean?"

"When we were young in Washington, we were together all of the time. You were everything to me. But that changed."

I remembered then. We had been very close, and we played together constantly. We lived maybe a half-mile from the coast, and were at the ocean all the time. We lived a good deal distant from anyone, and there were no kids even relatively close by. That changed. One day, there was a boy in the neighborhood besides me, and at first, the three of us were a team. And then, finally, he and I became close friends, and Jess drifted off. Or maybe I did. I can't remember.

"Do you miss those days, Jess?"

"I miss being close to you."

"Is our having sex very important to you?"

"I like it, and I want it. I want you. But I mostly want you."

So here it was, finally. I needed to ask.

"Jess. If we became as close as we were as kids right now, would having sex with me be as important to you as it is today?"

"No."

"Would you still want to have sex with me?"

"Yes."

"But would it break your heart if we didn't?"

"No. I'd rather be close to you."

And there it was. She wanted her brother back as he was, not a lover. Not exactly, though. I could see that there was some psychology at work in her mind that I simply wasn't qualified to do anything about, and could only cause problems if I tried. One thing I could do, though, was to give her what she wanted and then stop having sex with her.

I gave her a series of very specific instructions doing just that. I told her that she should think of us as best friends, and that I thought of her the same way. I told her that she could confide anything, and that I would trust her with my life. Then I told her that her evening had gone differently than it had, that she had heard Tari and I, but that she had gotten a headache and gone to bed. She had not gone to the shower, and we had not made love. I went through these points several times. Finally, I told her to get up and get dressed. She did so. Then I put her to bed, kissed her forehead, then turned out the light and left.

I realized that I would probably have to spend some time reinforcing the suggestions I had made. I also knew that I would absolutely have to live up to the commitment I made to her. If I allowed myself to drift off again because something or someone else interested me more than Jess, it would likely cause some problems I would be unable to do anything about.

Obviously, the hypnosis gig was going to have all sorts of complications. I had already found a few, and figured that more would surface over time.

Sometimes, I really hate it when I'm right.

Over the next few days, Jess and I spent a lot of time together around the house. We played pool, cards, and board games, but mostly spent a lot of time talking. She kept working out, and was getting stronger and fitter. That pleased her a lot, but she was even more pleased, seemingly, when I called her attention to how good she was looking.

School was interesting, also. Tari continued to be a fascination, and Sirah had actually sent me some business. One of her friends, Lori Jaskin, came over one afternoon wanting to know if I could help her quit smoking. Lori was straight, a blonde feminist with small breasts and wide hips (Seemingly. As she wore overalls and a baggy t-shirt, it was hard to get a solid perspective on her shape). She also had a smelly attitude where men were concerned. I had some ideas where I wanted this interlude to go right from the start, and fortunately, she was extremely easy to hypnotize. With the usual testing and deepening exercises I employed, perhaps 40 minutes elapsed. I worked through a number of smoking specific suggestions, and gave her a trigger word that would help her control the habit. And then the fun began.

I had almost no patience with the hardcore feminist type, and she definitely fit that description. I asked her a few questions about her views of politics, relations between the sexes and the like, not that I was all that well versed myself at the time. I just knew I'd had enough with the man-bashing stuff, and so I set about changing her perspective. So I worked on the idea that men and women are not equal, but are each really good at particular things – but not necessarily the same things. I gave her suggestions on lots of things suggested by her views, not to change her mind so much as to get her to consider the opposing viewpoint. To me, that seemed to be her particular problem, aside from that set of big hips. The hips I dealt with by suggesting a need to exercise and a desire to lay off of the bagels and cream cheese. And the Haagen Dasz.

All of that accomplished, I asked her what she thought about sex. She said she could take it or leave it, and that it didn't matter which gender she was with. She'd tried both, and liked males better, but not by a lot. She said she wasn't close to many people and that the intimacy of sex bothered her and the messiness was off-putting. With specific suggestions, I worked to alter her opinion enough to get her looking at sex with a more open perspective.

I used the buzzer, as always, and suggested that she find me attractive, and ever more so each time I buzzed.

And then I woke her up.

I walked her through her smoking trigger word, making sure she knew what it was and how she might best employ it. Since she was actually having a bit of nicotine fit at the time, we tried the word, and it seemed to work. "That's kind of odd," she said. "It doesn't take the craving away, exactly. It just makes it easier to ignore." She seemed happy at the prospect. "This will work."

I cautioned her that we would need to do a couple of sessions to strengthen the word and guard against its failure through too much use. And then I buzzed her.

Initially, there was no reaction I could see. She continued to talk about how awful it was to be a smoker and how tough it was to break the habit. So I buzzed her again, and then again. I finally saw a reaction when she slid around to sit facing me on the couch, her eyes bright and her hands playing with the straps of her overalls. We talked for a few more minutes, and I buzzed her again. Suddenly, she stood, flipped the straps off of her shoulders, and dropped the overalls to the carpet. She stepped out of them and her sandals, and then pulled off her top. Since she wore no underwear, she was ready for action.

I gave her a quick once over. Her hair was a bit wild, having just had a t-shirt dragged over it, and she was breathing hard. Moving downwards, her hips were big, but not as large as I had believed. They were nicely shaped, and her pubic hair was trimmed short. A quick glance upwards revealed cute, pink tipped tits that were, apparently, almost all nipple and aureole and poked out charmingly. And one more thing. I could see that the inside of her thighs was damp.

She was more than ready. So, what the hell. I buzzed her again.

For lack of a better way to put it, she threw herself on me. Without warning, I had a five-foot four inch bare naked guided missile lip locked to my face. She was frantically trying to get my shirt unbuttoned and my pants undone. I took hold of her, tossing her back onto the couch and raising her arms above her head, then holding them there with one hand. Then I began to investigate her trembling body with my other hand, down her side, down the outside of her leg, and then up the inside. As I got closer to her pussy, she started to arch her back, trying like crazy to get it in contact with me. I wouldn't let her. "Oooh God," she moaned, her head moving side to side. "This is just too….God…please take me….touch me, can't I just….." She kept having fragments of thoughts and I kept exploring her form with my free hand. I finally ran my fingers over her nipples, and she nearly came just from that. I could smell her pussy, hot and liquid, and her breathing was deep and fast. At the point where I was pretty sure she couldn't hold back an orgasm, not that she was trying, I suddenly stood up.

She lay there, stunned and on edge, her arms coming down to circle her breasts. She looked at me looking at her, and seemingly didn't know what to do. I just stood there, taking in her form, waiting. Finally, she crept off of the couch and came over to me. She knelt in front of me, and started unbuttoning my pants. After some jitters and false starts, she got my cock out and started to lick it. Slowly at first, and then with increasing energy, she worked it over, sucking, licking and swirling with no small amount of native talent. I could feel the tinglings of impending eruption, and stepped back from her. I took off my clothes and walked over to her. She rolled onto her back and threw her legs into the air. I knelt between her legs, and fed my dick into her hot and happy cunt. She shuddered, a slight smile, then a larger one playing on her lips. After a moment, I sank in to the balls, then took her legs on my shoulders and started a slow, nasty rhythm. Every time I could feel her building to orgasm, I would interrupt her, then change position. This served to frustrate her on the one hand, and make her even more eager to fuck on the other. It also helped me hold on, too, as Lori was tight, slick and very enthusiastic. Finally, when I felt her right on the edge of cumming, I took her from behind and got my hands onto her cute, little tits. She cried out, a scream quickly choked off, and then whimpered as I continued to pound into her from behind. A moment later, I filled her with my hot cum, and she collapsed beneath me. "Oh God…oh my God…that was so good! How can that be so good? How can that be so damned good?" She was breathing hard, like she'd run a sprint in lead shoes. I slipped out of her, and lay down beside her. She turned over to look at me. "My God, Lee! How do you do that? That was incredible! My God!" She slid over to me and began to kiss me energetically and extensively. Her hands roamed all over my body, seemingly trying to take me all in. She slid over to me and threw her leg over mine, pushing her soaked and spunk-filled pussy up against my leg. She started rubbing against it. Clearly, the floodgates had been opened. This was going to be one hot little number, if I could get her head screwed on straight about sex. I took the fact that she was energetically trying to get the attention of my dick to be a good sign in that regard.

After about ten minutes, my John Thomas rose from the dead, and she climbed onboard and filled herself with me. She tossed her hair about and played with her tits as she bounced on my groin. "Do I feel good to you? Can you feel me trying to hold you?" She got nastier with her movements, and a good deal more pointed in what she was trying to accomplish. She was chasing a second, monumental orgasm, and seemed to be approaching it closer and closer with each movement of her hips. I grabbed her ass and ground into her pussy and clit even harder, and she threw her head back and groaned. Then I pulled her down to me and got my tongue onto her nipples. She started to shiver violently and her chest started to blush. Her cunt clamped down on my dick, trying to milk it dry, and for a second, it seemed as though she could make no sound whatsoever. Finally, she sort of choked and froze in place, then started to cry. She collapsed against me, and cried like a baby for some moments. I just held her and stroked her hair. I did not cum a second time, but didn't worry about it. Some things are just more important.

Eventually, eyes a bit swollen and red, she managed to stop, and I wiped them away with my thumb. "Are you ok," I asked, still stroking her hair.

She smiled, or tried to. She snuggled in closer to me. "I don't know what that was all about. I just, it just feels like I let something go, and I don't know what it is. I feel all sad, and happy and tired and headachy." She smiled, this time for real. "And sexy." She perched up onto her elbows and looked at me. "Do you know that this is the first time in my life that I've ever felt sexy?"

"No. You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. I always felt kind of ugly and stupid and fat. When I got asked out, I just figured they wanted to fuck me and nothing else. You know? I've seen all sorts of girls used like that. Guys fuck them, then move on."

I looked up at her shining little face. "You're a pretty girl, Lori, and you have a cute little body."

She sat up, looking at me to see if I was serious. "You don't think I look too fat? What about my hips?" She patted her hips and thighs. "I'm built kind of big in the butt."

"I rolled over onto an elbow. "When I first saw you, you were wearing those overalls, and they made your butt look real big. They also made it look like you didn't have any tits." I smiled. "Both of those appearances are wrong. Your tits aren't all that big, but they're real nice to look at and touch, and you have a nice ass. It's not too big, it's not flabby, and it's nice and round." I grinned. "Face it, Lori, you're a bit of a wet dream. And, my God, if I knew what you were like in bed.." I looked around at the carnage on the floor "..or whatever this was, I'd have been all over you when you walked in."

Her eyes got really large for a moment, as though she was working over a new concept. "Lee? Please don't laugh. I really need to know this."

"What is it?"

She struggled with herself for a moment. "It's just…do you really think I'm attractive? Am I pretty? Do you think so?" The look in her eyes was heartbreaking.

I sat up and moved in close to her. "I think you're beautiful, Lori. I think you're absolutely gorgeous." I could tell she wanted to believe what I was saying, but somehow couldn't. I triggered her, then suggested that I was not lying to her, and that she could believe me completely. Then I woke her back up. She looked at me for a moment, not knowing what to say, then stared at the floor for a few moments. I didn't know what to do for her, until I saw the tears collecting in the carpet beneath her eyes. I held her, and she was choked with sobs for several long moments. She finally got control of herself again, holding me as tightly as she could. I gently unwound her from my shoulders and neck.

"Lori. Did someone actually tell you that you were fat and ugly?"

She nodded, not quite able to speak. Then "uh-huh. Starting in second grade. I was always a skinny kid, then I started to gain weight. I got chunky, then chubby, then fat." She seemed hard pressed to go on. "By the time I was in fifth grade, I was obese, and people made fun of me, even people I though were my friends. It was just so hard!" She got a bit animated then. "People see a fat kid, and they're an easy target. I was an easy target. I had no shell, no way to protect myself. I got beat up by other girls, teased. So I set out to lose the weight. I tried. But by that time, I already had my reputation."

"So what did you do then?"

She shook her head, smiled tiredly. "Tried not to let it bother me. Then I got quick witted and insulted people first. I got good at it, and people left me alone. And when I started to write, I wrote a lot of mean, biting things about the 'oppression of a man's gaze' and other rude things about cute women who chased men." She leaned back, reached out and touched me on the nose. "And men who chased women. I learned to keep people away, because they can't hurt you at arm's length."

"You know what I think?"

"No. Should I?"

I smiled at her widely. "For starters, you should know that I think you're sexy and attractive. Second, I think you're beautiful and smart. Third, I think you need to let the past be in the past, and live here in the present with the rest of us." I paused to let it sink in. "Everyone had a hard time as a kid. Even kids who seem to have it easy usually go through stuff that scars them for life. Face it, pretty tits, being a kid sucks." I noticed that she smiled at being called "pretty tits." Objectification? I don't know, but she liked having her breasts appreciated. Her nipples crinkled a bit and she seemed happier.