﻿Unlimited

by Pan



Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2024-02-16 23:10:29
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,043
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/Unlimited/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: A hypnotist recounts the final sessions with his sister.
Erotica Tags: in, mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10



	Chapter 1

This is the final tale in the Limits saga. For previous chapters, check out [Limits](https://mcstories.com/Unlimited/../Limits/index.html), [More Limits](https://mcstories.com/Unlimited/../MoreLimits/index.html), and [No More Limits](https://mcstories.com/Unlimited/../NoMoreLimits/index.html).

Thanks to my readers and [Patreon](http://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites) backers for their support in creating this.

My mother’s blush deepened as we made eye-contact.

This wasn’t the first time I’d caught Mom spying, but it was the first time she’d noticed me noticing her.

To my surprise and delight, she didn’t leave.

Lucy was on her knees in front of me, wearing a set of black lingerie. Not that it covered much—the left strap had fallen down, exposing one of her huge tits. Her pink nipple was exposed and swollen, and her panties were pushed aside as she frantically thrust three fingers inside herself.

She was looking up at me, her lips stretched around my cock. Although she couldn’t speak, I knew exactly what she was thinking.

_Has it worked?_ she silently asked, before her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure.

That wasn’t part of the plan. Lucy just really, really likes going down on me.

I glanced back to the door. Mom was still there, crouching outside my sister’s bedroom door. I maintained eye-contact with her as Lucy’s head continued to bob up and down.

My cock halfway down my sister’s throat, my mother unable to look away, the constant state of sexual frenzy that had filled the house recently, the knowledge that it was all because of _me_ —it was enough to set me over the edge, and I started bucking forward, listening to my sister choke with pleasure as I came inside her.

That was all it took for Lucy to start cumming as well…but to my great surprise, my sister’s soft moans of orgasm were echoed from outside the room.

For the first time, I noticed that Mom wasn’t just watching us.

She was getting herself off as she did.

### Session A93:

“Okay Mom,” I said. “What would make you want to turn our house into a nudist home?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is there anyone you’d talk about it with?”

“Yes.”

“Would you tell me who?”

“Yes.”

“Who would you talk about it with?”

“Other parents.”

I smiled. That was the answer I’d been hoping for.

“Hypothetical: in ten years time, I met a nice girl and we start dating.”

Nod. Possibly even a glimmer of a smile.

“After a year or two, we get married.”

Nod.

“Another year passes, and we come to you with exciting news—my wife is pregnant. How do you react?”

“I’m overjoyed,” Mom replied in a monotone.

### Session A188:

“Hypothetical: I get Lucy pregnant.”

Mom moaned. That took me by surprise—her eyes remained totally blank, her face didn’t move at all, but a soft moan of arousal uncontrollably left her lips.

“Would you tell me if it turns you on?” I asked with a smile, already knowing the answer.

“No.”

Bingo.

### Session A93:

“We have the kid. Eighteen years later, I go to you for advice.”

Nod.

I’d never skipped over so much time in a single hypothetical, but Mom seemed to accept it without issue.

“I want to ask you how to talk to it about sex.”

Nod. The use of “it” to refer to my 18-year old kid didn’t slow her down at all. Normally these hypotheticals require at least a little detail to be effective—maybe Mom had already spent time imagining me growing up, getting hitched, having kids.

Now, of course, I had to be _super_ careful not to wake Mom up. I didn’t even want to think about the damage that would be caused if she was suddenly transported 30 plus years back in time, her grandchild of indeterminate sex erased from her mind.

“Would you tell me why you don’t like talking to your kids about sex?”

“No.”

God damn it, Mom.

### Session A175:

“You don’t want to talk to your kids about sex, do you?”

“No.”

A pink tinge appeared in my mother’s cheeks.

“If you saw your kids having sex, you wouldn’t want to talk to them about it, would you?”

“No.”

The blush deepened.

“If you saw your son slowly fucking his sister, sliding his cock deep inside her, filling her up so tight that she can barely breathe…if you saw Lucy shivering with orgasm as she got fucked by her own brother, you wouldn’t say anything to them, would you?”

“No…”

“What if you saw that they weren’t using protection? What if your only daughter was being filled up by her brother’s seed—what if she was quaking and moaning with pleasure as he came bareback inside her. What would you do?”

“I’d…I’d…”

My mother’s eyes rolled back in her head, and it took her a few seconds before she was calm enough to respond.

“I wouldn’t say anything.”

### Session A93:

I took a deep breath, trying not to scream with frustration.

I’d only been hypnotizing my mother for a couple of months now, but it felt like it’d been six freaking years. No matter what I did, I kept running into the same damn wall:

“I don’t want to talk about it”.

Or, worse, she’d wake up. She’d wake up, and I’d be left absolutely clueless as to why.

I wanted to punch the wall. Maybe that’d help me break through it.

I forced myself to calm down. It took me a few seconds before I was calm enough to respond.

Slow and steady. There was no rush. Especially not with Lucy taking care of my every sexual need, almost.

And it was important to get this just right; I knew what happened if anything went wrong.

Let me explain:

Six months ago, I found a website that taught you how to hypnotize your family members.

Actually, I guess it started even earlier than that.

Ever since I was old enough to know what sex was, I’ve lusted after my Mom and my sister Lucy. Their perfect bodies have been the center of my fantasies for as long as I’ve _had_ fantasies, and…well, the website promised to transform that lust into action.

As it turns out, it’s more complicated than you’d think. You can’t just snap your fingers, put someone under, and wake them up as your sex slave.

I mean, not all at once.

The website did deliver on the trance. A few minutes alone with a willing participant, and I was able to hypnotize them, put them under, and carry on a conversation with their blank face and monotone voice.

They never remembered what we talked about—I’d ask them questions, pose hypothetical scenarios, attempt to give them orders.

If they didn’t want to obey my commands, they’d snap out of it. They’d never remember what I’d asked or what we’d talked about—as far as they were concerned, I’d just helped them reach an incredible state of relaxation.

But slowly, surely, I got better at it. I worked out how to implant memories; by posing a hypothetical and slowly taking someone out of trance, they’d be convinced that whatever we’d been talking about had actually happened.

I could change people’s pasts.

I could change people.

So far, I’d only hypnotized three people—my Mom, my sister Lucy, and her best friend Marcie.

Over 90 sessions, I’d altered my mother’s memories, adjusted her self-esteem, and convinced her to dress in skimpy clothing around the house. She was convinced that family members would never check each other out, would never be attracted to one another…which gave me free license to stare at her body every chance I get.

Over 35 sessions, Lucy went from being a normal, loving sister to a devoted slave. She’s willing to do _anything_ with me, as long as it isn’t technically incest.

It’s been a lot of fun, pushing the definition of what is and isn’t incest.

And over 50 sessions, I turned Marcie into my adoring sex-slave. There was literally nothing she wouldn’t do—she was the first person to jerk me off, the first person to go down on me. She took my virginity, and got off while doing it.

And then…I broke her.

I broke my sister’s best friend.

I learned the hard way that if you alter someone’s memory in a way that contradicts reality…they’ll shut down. Last I saw Marcie, she was staring into space, not responding to anything.

Except sex. Sex, she responds to. _Very_ enthusiastically.

Marcie’s condition is my fault. I know that, and I’ll never forgive myself for it. I used her as a guinea pig, as a way to test stuff out before trying it on my family. Last I heard, she’d been hospitalized.

I’d do anything to stop that from happening to my family.

Anything.

The thought bounced through my head, and my eyes lit up as I realized what I’d just stumbled upon.

That was it.

I sat up straight, stared straight into my mother’s blank eyes and began talking rapidly.

I’d do _anything_ to stop that from happening to my family.

Who wouldn’t?

“Hypothetical: you’re eight years old…”

### Session 37:

After Lucy had cum around my fingers in the last session, I’d woken her up. She’d sat there in silence for a few seconds, completely and unquestioningly nude, a look of unbridled adoration in her eyes.

Even in my wildest fantasies, it had never been this hot.

“Suck my cock,” I’d managed to stammer out—my mouth was dry, and I was struggling to believe this was real.

This was really happening.

A look of lust flashed across my sister’s face, and she dropped to her knees immediately. As her lips wrapped around my cock for the first time, as she moaned with the pleasure of getting to taste her own brother’s flesh, I reached down and grabbed her hair.

“You’re mine,” I hissed into her ear. Her eyes widened, her tongue swirled around the head of my cock, and she reached up and pinched her nipple. “Cum for me.”

“Oh!”

My sister had mentioned in the past that she came easily, but I had no idea _how_ easily. Her body trembled with a quick orgasm, and for a moment her beautiful, intelligent eyes went blank.

Unlike when she was under, however, they quickly refocused, and lit up with a smile.

“Good girl,” I said, and in response she just moved her mouth back over my erection and moaned.

### Session A99:

“Hypothetical: You’re fifteen years old.”

Nod.

“Your mother sits you down to talk about sex.”

Nod.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m very uncomfortable.”

I smiled.

For months now, I’d been trying to crack this wall—no matter what I did, my mother wouldn’t talk about sex. She wouldn’t discuss it with me, she wouldn’t discuss it with Lucy—she would apparently talk about it with other parents, but since I didn’t have any of those handy, that wasn’t particularly useful.

But what if I stopped trying to break down this bizarre limit, and instead played into it?

What if Mom’s refusal to talk about sex stopped being an obstacle…and became a tool?

“Talking about sex with other people is the worst, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“But when you’re alone, thinking about sex can be kind of interesting.”

There was a long pause, and finally I was met with a nod.

It had taken a bit of experimentation, but I’d discovered that as long as I didn’t demand that my mother _say_ anything about sex, she was fine with me talking to her about it. If I’d asked whether she found thinking about sex interesting or not, she likely would have woken up…but by casually stating it as a fact, I was able to get around this weird barrier she’d developed.

A barrier that I intended to cultivate.

### Session A104:

“You see an ad about sexually transmitted infections. What do you do?”

“I turn away.”

Excellent.

“You hear a song playing on the radio, about two people having sex. What do you do?”

“I turn it off.”

“What do you do if you can’t turn it off?”

“I block my ears.”

I smiled.

“And then when you’re alone, you play with yourself.”

Again, a long pause, followed by a nod.

“You bring yourself to orgasm, thinking about sex.”

Nod.

“All your repressed thoughts about sex take over, and you uncontrollably get yourself off again and again.”

My mother’s ears went red…and she nodded.

I had no idea why my Mom was such a prude when it came to this kind of thing. But it was becoming increasingly obvious that it didn’t matter—the reason wasn’t important.

What was important was the result.

“And when you’re getting yourself off, you’re thinking about the ad. You’re thinking about sexually transmitted diseases. You’re thinking about the song.”

Nod. Blush.

“All the wickedness that you’ve tried not to expose yourself to…it’s gotten into your system, and now you can’t help but play with yourself while you think about it.”

Blush. Nod.

“You’re a slave to your lust, and your lust is fueled by the immorality in the world, the immorality you see everywhere.”

I swear, my Mom couldn’t blush any harder.

But she still nodded.

### Session C9:

“Would you talk to me about BDSM?”

There was a pause. A pause long enough to make me uncomfortable, and so I broke it to ask for clarification.

“Would you talk to me about BDSM abstractly? Like…from a clinical point of view. No details.”

“Yes.”

Great. I had prepared other lines of questioning in case he refused, but this was the simplest example I could come up with.

“If you walked up to a random person and hit them on the street, that would be wrong, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Okay Richard, calm down. I was just trying to make a point.

“But if you were participating in a BDSM scene, it would be okay to hit someone, wouldn’t it?”

“It would depend.”

Damn. I figured since he was a professor, he’d be too uptight to really know how BDSM worked.

I mean, not that I really knew how it worked. I’d spent a few minutes googling it, relying on Richard’s knowledge being based on what you see on TV and in the movies.

Still, might as well keep going.

“It would definitely be more okay than hitting a random person on the street though, right?”

“It would really depend.”

I pressed on.

“My point is—accidentally hurting someone is worse than deliberately hurting someone, right?”

“No. Quite the opposite.”

Okay. I might not have thought this through.

It had been hard to focus on my plans for this session the previous night, with my mother and sister making out on the other side of the room.


	Chapter 2

Obviously, my aim wasn’t to get Mom turned on by sexually transmitted infections. That would be, uh…unhelpful.

But step one of my plan was to play into her refusal to talk about sex, to twist and amplify it for my own purposes.

Step two? That was a little bit darker.

### Session A115:

“What do you know about Marcie?”

“She’s four months younger than your sister. She’s got brown hair, her mother is a nurse, her father is…”

I interrupted. Should have been more specific.

“What do you know about what happened to Marcie recently?”

A hint of sadness hit my mother’s blank eyes (after spending enough time around hypnotized people, you learn to read even the most subtle changes in their expression).

After I’d broken Marcie, I’d tweaked Mom and Lucy’s memories to add a bit of distance. A drifting apart between my sister and her best friend; something to make sure that Lucy wouldn’t be totally crushed when she found out about Marcie’s…condition.

Fortunately, Lucy was more than a little distracted by our new relationship, and Mom never been too fond of Marcie to begin with.

“I heard she…”

Mom, perhaps being diplomatic, drifted off. I sat patiently as her entranced mind worked on phrasing.

“I heard she had a breakdown.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“No.”

Good.

“Hypothetical: You’re talking…”

I trailed off. Who would be telling Mom these details? It couldn’t be me or Lucy, and she wasn’t close with Marcie’s parents at all.

“You’re talking to a gossipy neighbor who heard the police report.”

Nod.

Fortunately, Mom knows as little as I do about police proceedings. Exactly what situation would lead to someone hearing the report being made to the police, I don’t know, but as long as Mom can imagine it…I don’t have to.

“They tell you that there was a burglary.”

Mom nodded, and I paused. God, this was…I couldn’t.

Could I?

I took a deep breath.

I’d spent a week setting this up. All the pieces were in place. All I had to do was bite the bullet.

“There was a burglary, and Marcie was home when it happened.”

### Session A109:

“You’re sitting on the train.”

Nod.

“There’s a couple across from you, making out.”

Nod.

“It’s two women.”

Nod.

“What do you do?”

“I try not to look.”

I smiled at Mom’s phrasing.

“Even when you’re not looking directly at them, you can still hear the sound of their pleasure. They’re moaning with pleasure, grunting slightly. You can hear the sound of their lips smacking.”

Nod.

“What do you do?”

“I try not to listen.”

“You have a vivid imagination, don’t you?”

“…yes.”

“It’s easy to imagine yourself in their place, isn’t it?”

“…yes.”

I was surprised that she even answered that one. I had to remember not to ask Mom questions when I was getting into the nitty-gritty details.

“It’s easy to imagine yourself in the woman’s place, being touched, being publicly felt up by another woman.”

Nod.

“It’s easy to imagine yourself exposed in public—everyone’s eyes on you, everyone noticing how turned on you are, how excited you are to be touched.”

Nod.

“It’s easy to picture your lips pressed against a beautiful woman, not caring that society disapproves, not caring about anything but feeding your lust.”

Mom’s cheeks were aflame, but she nodded nonetheless.

“It’s easy to imagine your hands running across her body, feeling how soft her skin is, appreciating her curves.”

Nod.

“Her hands running over your body, touching you, making you pant and moan.”

Nod.

“That night, when you’re alone, you can’t help but touch yourself.”

Nod.

“And when you do, you imagine two things…”

Mom nodded, before I’d even finished the thought.

“…making out in public.”

Nod.

“And being with a sexy woman.”

Nod.

### Session A115:

“The burglar had a gun. He tied Marcie and her family up.”

Nod.

“And then, he…he…”

I don’t know why I was hesitating. This was it, I knew it. This was the ticket to everything I’d been building towards, everything I’d been fantasizing about for so long.

I guess on some level, I was scared. What if it didn’t work, and Mom never let me hypnotize her again? What if I’d done something wrong, and whatever had happened to Marcie happened to her as well?

But, on the other hand…what if it worked?

### Session A178:

Mom didn’t say a word as I unzipped my pants. She didn’t say anything as I pulled my erection out.

Her eyes—still blank—widened slightly as I moved my hardness towards my face, but she didn’t move, and she didn’t say a word.

As my cock approached her mouth, her lips parted, and her tongue reached out to taste my head.

### Session A112:

“The world is full of vice, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Everywhere you go, everywhere you look, you see sex.”

Nod.

“You try so hard not to look, but it’s hard, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s impossible not to observe it all the time. It fills your head, consumes you.”

Nod.

“Whenever you’re alone, whenever you get a chance, you have to get them out of your system. You have to touch yourself, play with yourself, bring yourself to orgasm.”

Nod.

“Again and again, you let the images of sex run through your brain, you let your imagination insert you into sexual situations.”

Nod.

“You’re cumming three, four, five times a day. Whenever you’re alone, you’re thinking about sex. It’s like you’re obsessed, but it’s not your fault.”

Nod.

“You’re a good, moral person. It’s the world that’s filled with sex, and your only way of dealing with it is to let it run through your head while you cum.”

Nod.

“You’re constantly thinking about sex, you’re constantly wet, you’re constantly finding excuses to find time to yourself so you can get off.”

Nod.

“Everything sexual you see becomes fuel for your masturbation sessions. Everything you see, you can picture yourself doing those things. In your mind, you’re a sexual object, but the rest of the world still sees you as a good person, as a good mother.”

Nod.

“If you could, you’d play with yourself right now. Just talking about getting off is enough to make you horny, to get you wet. As soon as you can, you’re going to make an excuse to leave. You’re going to head to your room, shut the door, and you’re going to get off.”

Nod.

“Would you tell me if you own any sex toys?”

“Yes.”

“Do you own any sex toys?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if you wished you did?”

“No.”

“What would you do if you found one of Lucy’s?”

“I…I…”

Mom’s breathing was heavy as she slowly drifted back into consciousness. She was wearing a thin white t-shirt and the pair of cut-off denim shorts that I’d slipped into her drawers. I’d been delighted when they’d become a standard part of her around-the-house lineup.

After all, it was just family. What did it matter who saw her in sexy shorts like that?

The front of her shorts were soaked, and the smell of her sex hung in the air. She noticed me staring at her wet patch—up until that moment, Mom had never cared where my eyes were.

After all, I was her son. I couldn’t possibly be attracted to her. What did it matter where I looked?

This time, however, her blush deepened. She mumbled a “thank you”, and fled the room.

Moments later, my ear was pressed against her closed bedroom door. I smiled as I listened to her muffled moans of pleasure.

### Session A115:

“The burglar didn’t just rob them.”

Nod.

“He made them…do stuff to each other.”

Mom’s eyes widened, and I wondered if she was going to buy it. It took a few seconds of processing, but—eventually—she nodded.

“Sexual stuff.”

Nod.

“That’s all the neighbor knows. Marcie’s family was robbed, they did sexual stuff to each other…and a few days later, Marcie had a breakdown.”

Nod.

“What do you say?”

“That sounds awful,” Mom replied. I doubt the fictional neighbor would have noticed the slight breathiness to her voice, but I did.

“What do you think of what happened to Marcie?”

“I think it’s tragic.”

“What else do you think of it?”

“Well, that was relaxing. I sure am glad you don’t charge for this, kiddo, or else I’d be broke before the week was out.”

For the first time since I’d started putting people under, waking someone up unexpectedly was the best possible result. I smiled at my mother’s thanks.

“No worries, Mom. Do you want to go again?”

“Sure thing. When were you thinking?”

“How about right now?”

### Session A178:

Mom’s eyes fluttered slightly as I grunted with pleasure.

“I’m going to cum. Swallow it.”

Her tongue swirled around my shaft with every thrust. She didn’t use her hands as I fucked her face (I would have been surprised if she did) but her tongue was working overtime to make up for it.

I sighed with pleasure as I unloaded into my mother’s mouth—as instructed, she swallowed it down, blushing furiously as she did.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, and her blush intensified. “I really like fucking your face. You’re a great cocksucker—I don’t think there’s anything as sexy as cumming in my own mother’s mouth. I love knowing that there’s a big load of my cum sitting in your stomach. You’re so fucking sexy.”

She didn’t say anything as I woke her up, although I did see her run her tongue around her mouth, a puzzled look on her face.

### Session A114:

“There’s so much sex in the world; after a while it almost starts to blend together.”

Nod.

“It keeps you constantly turned on, constantly aroused, but it doesn’t really stay in your memory.”

Nod.

“So when you’re playing with yourself, you start to think about the _really_ dirty stuff that you encounter. Stuff that’s really fu—…really messed up.”

Mom doesn’t like it when I swear.

“If you see something particularly perverse or wrong, it sticks in your head.”

Nod.

“And that’s what you think about when you get off. The most wrong and sick things you’ve encountered.”

Nod.

“If you hear a rumor about someone you know doing something wrong, that’s the most erotic thing of all. The closer it is to home, the more it affects you.”

Nod.

“Stuff like your daughter having a boyfriend or your son looking at porn—that doesn’t count. That’s perfectly natural. There’s nothing sick about that.”

Nod.

“But if you heard that your boss had gotten an intern pregnant, or that one of your old teachers was caught prostituting themselves—that’s the kind of thing that you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about.”

Nod.

“You’d picture yourself as the boss, or as the intern. You’d imagine yourself selling your body for money.”

Nod.

“The more perverse, the hotter it is.”

Nod.

“The closer to home, the more it affects you.”

Nod.

“Sick, dirty, sexual things that happen to people you know and love…that’s what gets you off more than anything.”

Nod.

### Session A116:

“What do you think about what happened to Marcie?”

“I think it’s tragic.”

“Would you tell me if you thought anything else?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if you thought it was perverse?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s perverse?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s incredibly wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s one of the most messed-up things you’ve ever heard of?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s one of the most perverted, wrong, messed-up things that’s ever happened to someone you know?”

“Yes.”

“Would you tell me if that turned you on more than anything you’ve ever encountered?”

“No.”

“You come home after talking to the neighbor, and you find one of Lucy’s sex toys. What do you do?”

“I…I…”

Mom’s breathing was erratic when she woke up. Before her eyes could even refocus, she was on her feet, and I heard the tail-end of a “Thanks!” as she staggered out of the door.

It was over an hour before Mom’s door reopened.

### Session C12:

“But if no one’s being hurt, and no one else knows about it, how can it be wrong?”

“Because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“No.”

I sighed. This wasn’t getting me anywhere.

“What do you mean ‘because of you’?”

“I mean, morality comes from within. If you know you’re doing something wrong, no one else knowing doesn’t make it right.”

I’d done research this time, but still I kept running into dead ends. Trying to argue morality with a professor had been, I finally acknowledged to myself, a bad idea.

Time for a new tactic.

Morality wasn’t getting me anywhere. It was time to come up with something more…primal.

“Would you tell me what your sex life was like…six months ago?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if it was good?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if it was bad?”

“No.”

Damn. My usual loophole wasn’t going to work here.

“Hypothetical: I come to you with a survey. I’m doing an advanced college course, and one of my classes deals with human sexuality. Would you fill out the survey?”

Pause.

“The results are anonymous, and I look like I’m really bored with the whole thing—like I wouldn’t peek at your answers.”

“Yes.”

“I hand you the pencil. The first few questions are all about…whether you’ve had any interest in someone of the same sex, of the opposite sex, all that kind of stuff. Do you answer them?”

“Yes.”

“The fourth question asks what your sex life was like six months ago. It asks you to rank it from one to ten.”

Nod.

“Do you answer it?”

“Yes.”

“What do you put?”

“Eight.”

“The fifth question asks what your sex life is like now. It asks you to rank it from one to ten.”

Nod.

“Do you answer it?”

“Yes.”

“What do you put?”

“Zero.”

Perfect.


	Chapter 3

I enjoyed myself over the next few weeks.

A part of me felt like I should feel bad, but honestly…I just didn’t.

Mom was wearing skimpy clothes around the house whenever she was home. Most of her outfits totally failed to hide the wet patch between her legs. She continued to not care at all if I stared at her exposed skin, or the clearly-visible bumps of her nipples when she was wearing nothing but a sports bra or singlet.

When she caught me looking at her wetness, she’d blush and shift slightly, but it seemed more like she was embarrassed than suspicious.

And any time I brought up Marcie, she’d go bright red and leave the room.

I’ll tell you, it was hard to stop myself from bringing Marcie up several times a day.

In the meantime, I didn’t put her under at all. I’d learned my lesson from Marcie—I wanted to take things slowly, ensure that nothing I did ran the risk of breaking her.

I wanted to let all the changes sit before taking things to the next step.

Besides, while I waited, I had Lucy to entertain me.

### Session 38:

“What did you dream about last night?”

“I was your slave, and you were fucking me.”

“Tell me more.”

“I don’t really remember the details. I think we were in my bed, or on a cloud, or near a zoo, or something like that. You held me down and choked me, or maybe I was on top. I came a bunch of times, and then you let me clean your cock off with my mouth.”

Lucy’s dream-retention is pretty awful, but at least I knew that she was still dreaming about crossing that final boundary, the one thing she wouldn’t do.

“Did you enjoy the dream?”

“I loved it.”

“Do you want to fuck me in real life?”

“Yes.’

“ _Will_ you fuck me in real life?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s incest, and incest is wrong.”

“Is the other stuff we do incest?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not.”

Great, Luce.

I sighed, and moved on. I had been down this path a million times, and it always ended the same way. Sex is wrong because it’s incest.

The mental gymnastics my sister could do to justify going down on me, letting me suck on her tits, letting me go down on her (another lifelong fantasy I’d checked off in the last week), letting me spank her until she came, letting me touch her everywhere I wanted…

None of _that_ was incest, but putting my cock in her pussy? That somehow crossed the line.

“Suck my dick.”

Almost before the words were out of my mouth, Lucy was between my legs, her blank eyes looking up at me, her talented hands and mouth hard at work. She flattened her tongue to make her mouth a wet hole, and then forced my cock so deep inside that she gagged a little. She pulled out until my head was the only thing in her mouth, and started furiously jerking me off with both hands while her tongue lapped at my piss-slit.

Even while under, she shuddered with orgasm just at the pleasure of going down on me.

She’d do all that, but she wouldn’t go any further.

The final limit.

### Session 3:

“Why do you like being hypnotized?” I’d asked Lucy once, when she was awake. She’d thought about it for a while and told me that she found it relaxing.

I’d asked her the same question while she was under, and she’d gone into a bit more detail.

“I like feeling like I’m floating,” she’d said, staring straight into my eyes, her soft voice completely expressionless. “It’s like I’m somewhere else—I don’t have any worries, any stress. I feel like I’m free, like I’ve given it all away.”

“Given what?”

“...control. I like feeling like someone else is in control. Like someone else has control of my mind, of my body...of my life.”

### Session 38:

“Why do you like being hypnotized?”

“Mmf mmf nngh mmmph.”

I chuckled, and pulled my cock-hungry sister away from my erection.

“Why do you like being hypnotized?”

“It makes me feel closer to you.”

“What else?”

“I like the feeling,” she said, staring straight into my eyes. Her soft monotone contained a hint of desperation, like she was happy to answer the question, but that she’d much rather have her mouth wrapped around my cock. “I like the feeling of obedience, of submission. ”

“Does it turn you on?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. “It relaxes me.”

I paused. I had a good thing going, obviously—my sister’s saliva dripping from the head of my penis told me that. It was tempting to stick with the status quo. With a mouth as talented as Lucy’s, so what if I never had sex with her?

“Cum for me,” I said impulsively, and my sister’s eyes rolled back with pleasure. She started heaving and puffing, and soon her body was shaking.

I was already hard, but the sight of my sister’s orgasm was enough to make me almost lose control. I grabbed her head, pulled it to my cock, and roughly fucked her willing mouth until I was blowing my load onto her soft tongue.

“Swallow it down,” I said with a smile, and my sister happily obeyed.

The sight of her orgasm, it… _god_. It did something to me. I wanted to know what her spasming cunt felt like while she came. I’d experienced it with my fingers—I needed to feel it with my cock.

I needed it.

It was a risk, but all good things in life are.

“Hypothetical,” I said slowly. “You have a recurring dream about being hypnotized.”

Nod.

“You have a recurring dream about being hypnotized. While you’re hypnotized, you’re obedient and submissive. More obedient and submissive than you could ever be while you’re awake, and it turns you on more than you can imagine.”

### Session 39:

“What did you dream about last night?”

“I was in a theatre or at a party or something, and a wizard hypnotized me.”

“A wizard?”

“Yes. Or a magician. It might have been a snake.”

“How did it feel?”

“It was so hot. He had complete control over me.”

“Tell me more.”

“It felt like I was floating. He had complete control over my body, my mind…over my life.”

“Why did it turn you on?”

“I had to do whatever he said.”

“Why did that turn you on?”

“I didn’t have any control. I was completely obedient. He turned me into his personal little slut. I had to do everything he said. I’d never met someone so powerful before.”

“Why do you like being your brother’s slut?”

“Because it’s so wrong.”

“Why do you like obeying everything he says?”

“Because I want to serve him.”

“Why do you like being hypnotized?”

“Because…”

She shivered with pleasure.

“Because it means I don’t have any control.”

### Session 34:

“Would you tell me why you like being hypnotized?” I asked. I had to know.

“Yes.”

“Why do you like being hypnotized?”

“It makes me feel closer to you,” Lucy said, and I smiled.

### Session 39:

“When you’re hypnotized, who controls you?”

“You do.”

“When you’re hypnotized, who decides what you can and can’t do?”

“You do.”

“When you’re hypnotized, you have to do everything I say, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“If I told you to go down on me, what would you do?”

“I’d go down on you.”

“If I told you to cum, what would you do?”

“I’d cum.”

“If I told you to fuck me, what would you do?”

“I’d fuck you.”

I froze.

It…it couldn’t be that easy. Could it?

“If I told you to fuck me while you were hypnotized, what would you do?”

“I’d fuck you.”

“For real?”

“Yes.”

“If, while you were hypnotized, I told you to fuck me, you’d fuck me?”

“Yes.”

“Describe it.”

“I’d lift up my skirt and pull my wet panties to the side, and I’d come over to the chair you’re sitting on. I’d straddle you, putting my knees on either side of yours, and I’d slowly move down until your cock was at the lips of my pussy. I’d run the head of your cock up and down my pussy a few times until it was nice and wet, and then I’d slowly let my weight sink down, until you were all the way inside.”

“Would you enjoy it?”

“I’d love it.”

“Even though it was incest?”

“Especially because it’s incest.”

“You wouldn’t avoid doing it because I’m your brother?”

“While I’m hypnotized, you have complete control over me. My mind, my body, my life. I have to obey you.”

I took a deep breath.

“You have to obey me, even if I tell you to commit incest?”

“Yes.”

“Lucy…”

Her blank eyes bore into mine.

“Fuck me.”

“God, thank you so much for that. It was super hot. I love it when you hypnotize me—it gets me so wet. And I can see it gets you hard…why don’t you let your hot sister slut take care of that? We still have some time before Mom gets home”

Ignoring the look of confusion on my face, Lucy got on her knees, and soon my equally-confused cock was shooting another load down her throat while she played with herself.

### Session 40:

“Hypothetical: I’ve hypnotized you.”

Nod.

“You have to obey everything I say.”

Nod.

“Even if I tell you to fuck me, you have to do it.”

Nod.

“I tell you to fuck me.”

Shake.

Oh.

I sat there in silence for a few seconds while I pieced it all together.

Everyone has certain…buttons. Not like a blender, but, like, there’s stuff that you can reliably use to manipulate them. Mom has an overdeveloped sense of guilt, and Lucy has an _extraordinarily_ healthy ego.

As well as that, there’s certain ideas that you just can’t get people to shake. For Mom, it’s talking about sex. No matter what, I’ve never managed to get her to talk about it.

And so, instead, I decided to take advantage of that.

For my sister, it’s this idea that I’m an innocent person.

Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve slowly hypnotized my sister into being my twenty-four hour cock-sucking slut, or that I’ve turned my mother into a secretly-masturbating pervert, uncontrollably aroused at the thought of Marcie—the girl I turned into a sex slave, then destroyed—being forced at gunpoint to fuck her family…but somehow, I don’t really consider myself “innocent” in all this.

Yet Lucy still thinks that I am.

She’s somehow managed to justify everything we’ve done as ‘not incest’, so I guess she’s just…good at seeing what she wants to see.

Obeying my every command was, after all, ‘her’ idea. Whenever I hypnotize her, she thinks I’m doing her a favor, and she dreamed of sucking my cock for months before she started doing it.

It’s not incest, so it’s not ‘wrong’, so she still thinks of me as innocent in all this.

The idea of _me_ telling _her_ to fuck me? That would be incest, and her innocent brother would never initiate _incest_.

That would be wrong.

Incest roadblock aside, things have run so smoothly with my sister for so long, I haven’t really had to _work_.

I could have tried to change her perception of me. But I didn’t know what kind of ripple effect that would have—maybe if I wasn’t ‘innocent’ (by her warped definition of the word) she suddenly wouldn’t feel comfortable with anything we were doing.

Maybe it would change stuff that we’d already done.

Maybe it would break her.

Besides which, I’d learned from Mom—don’t try to change these core, entrenched beliefs.

Use them to your advantage.

For the next fifteen minutes, I had Lucy suck my cock while I thought. I wasn’t even particularly horny—we’d fooled around for half an hour before I put her under and I’d cum twice—but I always enjoyed the sight of my sister’s bulging cheeks and glassy eyes.

There’s no blowjob like a trance blowjob.

“Cum for me,” I said absent-mindedly while I began mentally assembling a plan.

As far as my sister was concerned, all of this—her going down on me, me hypnotizing her, me controlling her body and her mind…it was all for _her_. It was all for her pleasure, for her gain.

We did this because _she_ loved it.

She loved being my slave. She loved being used as a sex object. She loved getting off, and she loved getting me off.

She wouldn’t commit incest—because it was ‘wrong’—but she’d do anything else, because she loved it.

As she moaned with pleasure around my cock, I could feel her orgasm sweep through her body.

She _loved_ it.

“Stop going down on me,” I said excitedly. I had a plan.

### Session 8:

“Other than your fantasies, would you tell me what kind of thing gets you sexually excited?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what kind of thing gets you excited.”

“Being touched by a boy that I like. Watching porn. Reading porn. Talking about sex. Playing with myself. When a hot guy won’t stop checking me out.”

“Wait, you get excited talking about sex?”

“Yes.”

“What about when you’re talking about sex with me?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

### Session 40:

“Tell me what kind of thing gets you sexually excited.”

“Obeying you. Being touched by you. Playing with myself, thinking about you. When you check me out. Going down on you. Being hypnotized by you. Thinking about fucking you. Thinking about being used by you.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I get to obey you. Because I get to be used by you. Because I’m lucky enough to be wanted by you.”

“Are you happier now than you were before we started fooling around?”

“Yes.”

“Who do you love the most in the world?”

“You.”

Aw, that was nice. Not the answer I was looking for, but y’know. Nice.

“Who else?”

“Mom.”

“Do you want Mom to be happy?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want Mom to be as happy as you are now?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you so happy now?”

“Because I get to be my brother’s slut.”

“Do you think Mom would be happier if she got to be my slut as well?”

“No.”

Damn it.

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t her fantasy.”

I briefly considered explaining to Lucy that it hadn’t been _her_ fantasy either. After all, I’d given her a girl-boner for hypnosis now; maybe she’d be turned on by the fact that I’d implanted this fantasy.

But while I wasn’t averse to taking risks to get where I wanted to be, I also wasn’t going to just take them for the hell of it.

Not when there was another way.

“Would you believe me if I told you that it was?”

“Yes.”

“It…”

I trailed off. A new trap had arisen when talking to Lucy while she was under. I had to be more careful than ever.

“Hypothetical: I’ve hypnotized you.”

Nod. It was a little ridiculous that ‘what’s happening right now’ had to become a hypothetical, but my sister’s specific image of me required it.

“You have to believe everything I tell you.”

Nod.

“I tell you that Mom’s fantasy is to be my sex slave.”

Shake.

Damn it.

“Why wouldn’t I tell you that Mom’s fantasy is to be my sex slave?”

“Because it isn’t true.”

“You don’t think I would lie to you?”

“Not about that, no.”

“If it were true, would I tell you?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you believe it’s true?”

“Because there’s no evidence, and there’s no way that Mom would ever tell you that.”

Mom’s reticence to talk about sex is definitely something that Lucy is aware of as well.

“What if…”

I leaned forward excitedly.

“What if I told you it was true, and Mom was so repressed that she’d never admit to it?”

There was a pause as Lucy considered the question.

“If you had evidence, I’d believe you.”

For the past month or so, I’ve slowly hypnotized Mom into wearing fewer and fewer clothes around the house. Now, it’s…it’s not quite Playboy Mansion, but let’s just say that she wouldn’t be entirely out of place.

I’ve never asked Lucy what she thought of Mom’s new wardrobe, and Lucy’s never brought it up. She must have noticed—after all, Mom’s been dressing like a prude for our entire lives. A sudden 180 isn’t the kind of thing that Lucy’s going to miss.

“Why do you think Mom has been walking around the house almost naked lately?”

“Because she’s having a mid-life crisis,” my sister responded in monotone. Interesting. I guess it made as much sense as the truth.

“Would you believe me if I told you that it’s because she’s repressing an attraction to me?”

“Yes.”

“She’s…”

I sighed. It’s nice that Lucy thinks she’ll believe anything I say; it’s annoying that she won’t, however, believe that I’ll _say_ the stuff.

“Hypothetical: You’re hypnotized. I tell you that Mom has been walking around the house almost naked lately because she’s repressing an attraction to me.”

Shake.

I paused for a moment.

“What if…okay, hypothetical: You’re not hypnotized.”

Nod.

“I tell you that I think Mom’s attracted to me.”

Nod.

“Do you believe me?”

“No.”

A part of me wanted to go in and unweave exactly how Lucy thought hypnosis worked…but frankly, anything that made her think _too_ hard about the process seemed dangerous.

While she was under, she thought she’d believe anything I said…which meant that I couldn’t say anything which wasn’t true, because she didn’t believe I’d ever lie to her.

Oh the tangled web we weave, when first we hypnotize our family members into mindless sex slaves.

I’d gotten far enough along with her that we could discuss these kind of things while she was awake. I’d been enjoying that—I’ve always liked hanging out with Lucy, chatting about life and the world and all that stuff.

Now, sex was on the table as a topic. Also, I got to choose what she wore as we talked. And sometimes we’d pause for a brief blowjob break.

I liked it very much.

“Hypothetical: You’re not hypnotized, and I tell you that I think Mom is attracted to me.”

Nod. If we had the conversation in hypothetical, I could make sure to get everything right for when we had it for real.

“What do you say?”

“What makes you say that?”

The monotone was gone, and she sounded skeptical. Really skeptical.

“I mention that she hasn’t been wearing much around the house lately, and tell you that I think she’s been repressing her attraction, and that’s her way of letting it show.”

Pause.

“What do you say?”

“Mmm, I think that’s a stretch.”

The skepticism was still there, but less obviously.

“What could I say to convince you?”

“You’d need to offer some more evidence,” Lucy replied, monotone back in full force.

“Like what?”

“Like…”

There was a pause, as my glassy-faced sister considered what evidence she’d accept.

“Like some kind of proof that she saw you as sexual.”

My eyes lit up.

“And if I offered you some proof, you’d believe me?”

“Of course.”

With a grin, I woke Lucy up, and mentioned that I thought Mom might be attracted to me.

### Session 41:

It had been four days.

I’d thought that Lucy was insatiable before, but… _wow_. For some reason, once I convinced her that Mom was attracted to me…

Every time we were alone, she practically jumped me and tore my clothes off. Not only that—one time, she made an excuse to leave breakfast early, beckoning for me to join her. As soon as we were out of Mom’s earshot, her tongue was down my throat and her hand was down my pants.

Honestly, we were lucky not to get caught. I wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.

I don’t know exactly why the idea of Mom also being attracted to me was such a turn-on, but that was what I planned to find out this session.

Convincing Lucy of Mom’s newfound attraction to her own flesh and blood?

That had been easy.

She’d been awake when I told her. I mentioned that whenever I spent a few minutes checking Mom out, or flirted with her at all, she’d get flushed, make an excuse to leave, and then go into her room…and masturbate.

Lucy was understandably skeptical, but agreed to look out for it. I think she was humoring me, but after the first time it happened, she looked at me, wide-eyed, and practically begged for my forgiveness.

I told her to go listen at the door, and tell me what she heard.

My busty, scantily-clad sister, getting flushed as she listened to my mother masturbate. It was everything I’d dreamed it would be.

Well, _almost_ everything.

To make sure she didn’t think it was a fluke, I recreated the sequence of events a few more times over the next few days. If Mom, Lucy, and I were in the same room, I’d stare at Mom’s tits, maybe make a suggestive comment, then watch with a smile as Mom got hot and bothered and ran into her room to get off.

The trick, of course, was the wording of the comment.

“Mom, that top looks amazing on you. I remember Marcie had one really similar.”

“God, Mom, you’re so pretty. Marcie once said you were the most attractive woman on our block.”

“Mom, you look great. Aside from Marcie’s, I think you must be the hottest Mom I know.”

The last one would normally have scored me a strange look, but just the mention of Marcie was enough to distract Mom enough that she didn’t even notice. I could have pushed things further, but I didn’t want to take any risks.

Lucy, meanwhile, practically thought I was a god. Maybe it was a competitive streak, but she started practically trying to outdo Mom in the skimpy outfit department—I remember one breakfast, Lucy was just in her bra and panties, Mom was in her transparent negligee, and I was in heaven.

Mom didn’t say anything, of course. After all, family members _never_ check each other out.

Four days was enough for me to be sure that Lucy was convinced, and so I’d put her under.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“How do you think Mom feels about me?”

“I think she wants you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“She walks around the house practically naked, she’s _always_ wet, and whenever you admire her or check her out, she runs into her bathroom and masturbates.”

“How does that make you feel?”

A blush hit the tip of Lucy’s ears.

“It turns me on.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s so _wrong_.”

“What else?”

“It makes me feel…”

She paused.

“It makes me feel like it’s less weird that I’m attracted to you.”

“Why?”

“It makes me feel like there’s something about you, or something about our family. Like we’re all a bit fucked up.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“I think it’s really, really hot.”

“Why?”

“I like being a family of weirdos. A little incest family.”

I smiled. I liked our little incest family as well.

“Do you want Mom to be happy?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think would make Mom happier?”

“If she got to fulfill her fantasy.”

“And…—“

Lucy cut me off before I could ask my next question.

“And if she fulfilled her purpose.”

I paused. This was an interesting angle.

“What do you think her purpose is?”

“To be my brother’s sex slave.”

“What do you think your purpose is?”

“To be my brother’s sex slave.”

“Why do you exist?”

“To be my brother’s slut.”

I smiled. I loved hearing my sister—who, months ago, never even had a sexual _thought_ about me—admit this kind of stuff.

“Why does your pussy exist?”

“To hold my brother’s cock.”

“Why do your hands exist?”

“To milk my brother when he wants it.”

“Why does your mouth exist?”

“To get my brother off.”

“Why do your tits exist?”

“To let my brother cum on them.”

We’d been down this road before, and it was always a good time. I decided to test this new direction.

“Why does Mom exist?”

“To be my brother’s slave.”

“Why does Mom’s cunt exist?”

“To hold my brother’s cock.”

“Why do Mom’s tits exist?”

“To let my brother cum on them.”

“Good girl.”

Lucy shivered with pleasure.

“What would you do if I told you to fuck me?”

“I’d fuck you.”

I couldn’t resist seeing how deeply her devotion ran.

“What would you do if I wanted to knock you up?”

“I’d be excited that you were using me however you wanted.”

“What would you do if I wanted to sell your body on the street?”

“I’d be excited to serve you in a new and different way.”

I had no interest in sharing Lucy with anyone, but it was fun to see how many limits had been completely eradicated.

“What would you do if I fucked you in your sleep?”

“I’d be grateful that I could bring you pleasure even when unconscious.”

Tempting, but I couldn’t risk it clashing with her (extremely specific) vision of me.

“What would you do if I wanted to watch you seduce Mom?”

“I’d try to make sure it was as hot as possible.”

“What would you do if I told you to fuck a dog?”

“I’d get off on knowing that I was fulfilling my brother’s every sick fantasy.”

Jesus.

“What would you do if I told you that I’d instilled these desires into you?”

“I’d thank you for it.”

“What would you do if I told you that I was responsible for Marcie’s condition?”

“I…”

Lucy faltered.

“I…”

“Would you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you think it was true?”

“No.”

“What would you do?”

“I’d…”

Again, that pause. I watched her through squinted eyes. It didn’t look like she was going to wake up, but it didn’t really look like she was accepting it, either.

“What would you do if I told you that I was responsible for Marcie’s condition?” I said again.

There was a long pause before Lucy answered.

“I’d be scared.”


	Chapter 4

### Session 42:

In the last session, I’d asked Lucy some more questions, fucked her mouth, and then woken her up. She didn’t even question the fact that she woke up with my cum in my mouth any more.

I think it excited her.

Since then, I’d been reflecting on her reaction to believing that I was responsible for Marcie.

I mean, she wasn’t _wrong_ to be scared. What I’d done was monstrous. I’d destroyed someone - and not just anyone, but Lucy’s best friend. I’d slowly stripped away her humanity, used her for pleasure, broken her.

And then…abandoned her.

Over the next few days, I thought long and hard about it, and I decided I was going to help Marcie. I didn’t know how, but I was going to do what I could to make things better.

The trouble was, there was only one way to do that.

I needed Lucy’s help.

I needed Lucy’s help to see her, and I’d probably need Lucy’s help to do whatever I could do to fix her.

But if Lucy knew that I’d destroyed Marcie, she’d be scared. Her innocent brother would suddenly be a monster. Her innocent brother would be someone she _should_ be scared of.

Unless…

“How do you feel about me being your master?”

“I love it.”

“Why?”

“It turns me on.”

“Why?”

“Because…it’s so wrong.”

“How do you feel about Mom being attracted to me?”

“I love it.”

“Why?”

“It makes me feel less alone.”

“What else?”

“It turns me on.”

“Why?”

My sister’s blank eyes stared at me as she thought.

“Because it’s fucked up.”

“Anything else?”

“Because…it means that…it means that there’s something about you. Something…sexy. Irresistible.

“Something powerful.”

I smiled at that. I’d hoped that was the direction she’d go.

As I spoke, I moved one hand between my sister’s legs. She obediently parted her legs, and a soft moan escaped her lips as I began to stroke her wet pussy-lips.

The more turned on someone is, the easier it is to influence them. And with what I was about to suggest to my sister, I needed her to be as turned on as possible.

“How do you feel about hypnosis?”

“It turns me on.”

“Why?”

I slipped one finger between her slick folds.

“I love the idea of giving up control, giving up power.”

“When I hypnotize you, who do you give up power to?”

“You.”

I slipped another finger into my sister’s sopping wet pussy.

“When I hypnotize you, it makes me more powerful, doesn’t it?”

“Yesssss.”

Even while deep in trance, even while speaking in monotone, my fingers distracted Lucy enough that she got caught on the ’s’.

“Power is sexy, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You find power sexy, don’t you?”

‘Yes.”

“The more power I have, the more sexy I am, right?”

I slipped a third finger inside Lucy’s wetness, causing her answer to come out as a slight yelp.

“Yes!”

“Stroke my cock.”

My sister obeyed immediately.

“When you learned that Mom was attracted to me, that made me more sexy, didn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Because it made me more powerful.”

“Yes.”

“You know I’ve been hypnotizing Mom, don’t you?”

“Ohhh…”

“You know I’ve been hypnotizing Mom, don’t you?”

“Yess…”

“Did you know I was hypnotizing Marcie?”

“No.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I had been?”

“Yesss…”

“Would you think it was true?”

She paused. Maybe she was distracted, maybe she needed time to think.

My thumb found her clit, and was making soft circular motions that I knew she loved.

“Would you think that it was true, that I’d been hypnotizing Marcie?”

“Yessss…”

“You know that Marcie and I were sleeping together, don’t you?”

“Yes…”

I knew that my sister had known that it was “good”, but I wasn’t sure what she knew beyond that. I didn’t want to say anything that wouldn’t match my sister’s image of me, but I needed to know how much she knew.

As my three fingers slowly pumped in and out of her, as my thumb brushed over her clit again and again, I stared at her blank face.

She was trying to sit still, but every now and again her entire body would twitch, and I knew that she wanted nothing more than to writhe around in pleasure, to throw her body back on the bed and ride the waves of orgasm.

“Don’t cum until I tell you to,” I said casually, and she nodded, her face desperately trying to stay neutral.

There was, I realized, one way of learning exactly what Marcie had told my sister.

“What did Marcie tell you about our sex life?”

“She said - oh!”

There was a pause, as Lucy’s neutral face squinted slightly. I’d seen this before - she was fighting an orgasm. My sister cums easily, and it takes her serious effort not to orgasm until commanded.

Effort that she was valiantly putting in, at my command.

“She said that it was…goooooood.”

“What did she say specifically?”

“She said that you were…oh, god!”

I waited for Lucy to fight off the orgasm and continue, but she didn’t finish her thought.

“What did she say specifically?”

“She said that you were a god.”

“A god?”

“Yes.”

“What does that mean?”

“She said that you were a goddddd…a god of sex.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Said that…worshipped…you…”

I smiled.

After that conversation between my sister and her best friend, everything had changed. Lucy had suddenly become reluctant to do _anything_ sexual with me.

I had assumed that it was because she’d learned I was sexually active, and that had changed how she looked at what we were doing. Teaching me to kiss, jerking off in front of me - if someone is totally new to sex, those things can be seen as a sort of innocent exploration.

If someone is sexually active, they suddenly have a whole different context.

But to learn that Marcie had told Lucy that she…worshipped me? That I was a sex god?

It hadn’t been more than a month after that conversation that Lucy had begun treating me the same way. I’d thought it was entirely due to my influence, that I’d steered her that way through hypnosis. I mean, I’m a guy - there’s something about being sexually worshipped by busty women that’s such a turn-on…

But maybe that conversation with Marcie had planted the seeds.

“Why do you think Marcie worshipped me?”

“Don’t…don’t…know…”

“But why do you think?”

“Because…you’re…really…good…”

I leaned in close, and in a soft whisper, began speaking directly into my sister’s ear.

“That’s not enough though, is it?”

“N-no?”

“Do you think that I ever hypnotized Marcie?”

My sister’s hips began jerking and bucking, and I could feel her cunt clench around my fingers.

She’s normally so very obedient, but…well, I know that my sister cums _really_ easily. I waited until her orgasm passed, and then asked the question again.

“Do you think that I ever hypnotized Marcie?”

“Yes.”

The monotone was back, even as my sister huffed. My fingers were still inside her, and as I wriggled them slightly, her eyes widened.

“How do you feel about that?”

“I think…”

I began sliding my fingers in and out of my sister once more.

“I think it’s…hot.”

“Does it make me more powerful?”

“Yes.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I made Marcie worship me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you think it was true?”

My thumb brushed over her clit again. It’s always ultra-sensitive straight after she cums, and so I waited until Lucy’s eyes returned from their brief journey to the back of her head before I asked again.

“Would you think it was true?”

“…yes.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Like you’re…like you’re powerful.”

“Do you think I did anything wrong?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Marcie always…liked you. You just made her…made her happy.”

I smiled.

“Would you like Mom to be happy?”

“Yes.”

My fingers sped up slightly.

“Would you like Mom to be happy like you are?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like Mom to be happy like Marcie was?”

“Yes.”

“She won’t do it on her own, will she?”

“No.”

“What should we do?”

“We should…”

There was a pause, and I reconsidered the question.

“What do you think _I_ should do?”

“You should…you should hypnotize her.”

“And what?”

“You should hypnotize her and make her your slave.”

“Like you?”

“Like me.”

“That would make me more powerful, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“That would make me even hotter, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you think I should do.”

“You should…oh! You should hypnotize Mom. You should make her into your little slut. You should make her suck your cock and be your naked little sex slave.”

“What if I asked you to make out with her?”

“Yes!”

“How would that make you feel?”

“Turned on. I want to make out with Mom while you watch.”

“How do you feel about me hypnotizing Marcie?”

“Turned on. You turned her into your sex slave. You made her worship you like a God.”

“How do you feel about me hypnotizing you?”

“It’s great. I love it.”

“What if I hypnotized you into committing incest?”

“That would be so hot. I want to be forced to fuck you. I want to be forced into riding your cock. I want to be forced to feel you cum inside me.”

“How do you feel about me hypnotizing Mom?”

“I think it’s so hot. I want you to turn her into your sex slave. I want you to fuck her face while she’s under. I want you to cum in her mouth, and for her to wake up with no idea why her mouth tastes so strange. The idea really turns me on. I can’t wait.”

“How do you feel about me hypnotizing Mom, making her want to fuck you?”

“Yes! I want you to make her want me. I want you to watch us make out. I want to suck on Mom’s boobs while you watch. I want you to cum over the two of us. I want you to fuck Mom while she goes down on me.”

“Wouldn’t that be incest?”

“Yes. It would be so hot.”

“Do you know what happened to Marcie?”

My sister’s already-blank face froze, and I swear I felt her cunt clench with nervousness.

“No,” she said in a monotone.

“Do you want to know?”

“No.”

“I’m going to tell you.”

Nod. No resistance. Perfect.

“I’m going to tell you, and when I tell you, I want you to cum.”

Nod.

I began slowly sliding my fingers in and out of my sister’s pussy again. Just a few months ago, I would have given everything to get to this point, to touch my sister in this way. Now, it was almost normal.

I leaned back in and whispered into my sister’s ear once more.

“Marcie disobeyed me.”

My sister squirmed.

“Marcie disobeyed me, and that’s what happens when you disobey me.”

She started vibrating with need.

“You’re never going to disobey me, are you?”

“No! No, never!”

“Marcie disobeyed me…and so I told her that I’d never fuck her again. That’s what destroyed her.

“That’s how powerful I am.”

Breaking through the blank haze of hypnosis, my sister’s face contorted in orgasm. Her pussy clenched around my fingers again and again, and when everything finally died down, she collapsed backwards onto the bed.

After a few seconds, I slowly withdrew my fingers; Lucy shuddered as I did.

“Lucy?”

“Yes?”

Her face was still blank, and her voice was still a monotone.

“How do you feel about visiting Marcie?”

The corner of her lips twitched, as if a smile was threatening.

“Sounds hot.”

“Good girl.”

My sister shivered in pleasure at the compliment.

### Session C15:

“I hand you the survey.”

Nod.

“The third question is ‘when was the last time you masturbated?’. Do you answer?”

“Yes.”

“What do you put?”

“Nine days ago.”

I smiled. Just as I’d hoped.


	Chapter 5

### Session A64:

“It’s important that your children are happy, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“People who have sex three or more times each week are happier, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Your children should be having sex three or more times each week, shouldn’t they?”

“Yes.”

“But they can only be doing that if they know about it, can’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Your son knows about it already from the textbook, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“But Lucy doesn’t know, does she?”

“No.”

“Someone needs to tell her, don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“You and I are the only ones who know about it. Who do you think it should be?”

“Me.”

### Session A119:

“You don’t like talking to your children about sex, do you?”

“No.”

That had been true before I’d gone to work on her. Now, it was something Mom avoided obsessively. She wouldn’t even talk about things we’d discussed under hypnosis in the past.

“You are constantly thinking about sex.”

Nod.

“If you talk to your children about sex, you won’t be able to stop.”

Pause. Mom’s eyes widened very slightly. As far as she was concerned, she’d been sex-obsessed for her entire life. In reality, it had only been a few days, and I don’t think she’d processed how her old attitude worked in combination with her new state of constant horniness.

“If you talk to your children about sex, you won’t be able to stop. You’ll keep on talking about it—your filthy thoughts spilling from your mind, revealing to the world what a deviant you really are.”

Mom’s pupils narrowed with fear, and the pause stretched on.

“Your head is so full of filth, if you open your mouth, it’ll be like unleashing the flood. You’re a pervert, through and through, and refusing to talk about sex is the only way you can prevent that from being public knowledge.”

Maybe I should have stopped talking, but I felt like I was onto something. And the more vivid the painting I pictured, the more likely it was to work.

“You’ll talk about your deepest, darkest fantasies. You’ll let on that you sexualize everyone around you, everyone you’ve ever met. Everything you’ve thought about while getting off…you’ll be exposed to the world for the freak that you are.”

Mom’s mouth fell open, and she nodded.

“Good,” I said. “It’s important that you never, ever discuss sex with your children, no matter what the circumstance.”

Nod.

“When will you discuss sex with your children?”

“Never,” Mom said, in a low monotone.

“Can you think of any situation where you would discuss sex with me?”

“No.”

“What about with Lucy?”

“No.”

“What if she came home with a big biker, and told you he was going to knock her up. Would you talk to her about sex then?”

Mom shook her head.

“What if they started having sex in front of you?”

Shake.

“What if…”

I leaned in close.

“What if when they were done, the biker started grabbing your tits?”

Mom’s eyes fluttered, just for a second—maybe bikers are one of her secret fantasies?—before shaking her head.

“What if Lucy did?”

I could see Mom’s eyes threatening to roll back in her head with pleasure, and I smiled.

### Session 43:

As soon as we got back from seeing Marcie, Lucy jumped me. I thought I’d seen everything, but the wild look on my sister’s eye was something new.

And after she’d sucked two loads of cum from me (getting herself off several times as she did), my sister insisted that I hypnotize her.

She didn’t just agree. She _insisted_.

“You will never disobey me, will you?”

“No, Master.”

“You will do everything I ask you to, won’t you?”

“Yes, Master.”

It was tempting to wake her up and _tell_ her I was going to fuck her. If it was really happening in real life, there was no way she could refuse. Right?

I was still a little shaken from seeing Marcie’s blank stare again, and so I firmly pushed the thought to the back of my head.

There was a smart way to do this. And the dumb way…

It wasn’t worth the risk.

Marcie had been just as unresponsive as the last time I’d seen her. We didn’t do much, just chatted to her. At her, really. She didn’t respond, except when we said anything sexual.

At the sound of anything sexual—even anything _remotely_ sexual—she would silently cum.

It was creepy as hell, and just about as hot.

With a shiver, I set my mind to the task at hand.

“What do you know about nudism?”

My sister’s blank face tilted almost imperceptibly to the side.

“Like, nudist colonies?”

“Yes.”

### Session A120:

“If Lucy makes you do something sexual, you only have two choices: You can do it, or you can talk about it with her.”

Pause.

Pause.

As the pause continued, I realized that maybe I was jumping the gun.

“If Lucy makes you do something sexual, would you tell me what your choices are?”

“Some of them, yes.”

“If Lucy makes you do something sexual, one choice is to do it.”

Nod.

“What are some other choices?”

“I can talk about it with her.”

“That’s not really a choice, is it?”

Pause. I pushed on.

“If you talk to her about it, you’ll reveal to the world what you are. What you think about. You’ll reveal your deviance. You’ll be exposed.”

Nod.

“Talking to her about it is the worst thing you can possibly do.”

Nod.

“So it’s not really a choice, is it?”

“No.”

“What are some other choices?”

“I could walk away.”

“If you walk away, she might want to talk about it.”

Nod.

“If you walk away, she might want to talk about sexual things with you.”

Nod.

“Walking away just delays the conversation. If you refuse to engage, that’s basically the same as talking to your daughter about sexual things, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Refusing to talk about sexual things means you’ll have to talk about them, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Actively refusing to talk about sexual things is the same as talking about sexual things.”

There was a long pause, but eventually my mother nodded.

“What else could you do?”

“I could lock myself away.”

“If you do that, if you avoid the situation, Lucy’s going to want to talk about it.”

Pause. Nod.

“You’ve raised intelligent children. If they want something and you refuse, they’re going to want to know why.”

Nod.

“If Lucy does something sexual and you avoid the situation, you’ll need to talk about it.”

Nod.

“Avoiding the situation is the same as talking about sexual things.”

Nod.

“You will never, ever talk about sexual things, will you?”

“No.”

“If Lucy does something sexual with you, what options do you have?”

There was a long, long pause. I watched my mother carefully, but she showed no sign that she was going to wake up.

“If Lucy does something sexual with you, aside from going along with it, do you have any other options?”

“…no.”

“If Lucy makes you do something sexual, you really only have one choice, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“If Lucy makes you do something sexual, you won’t talk about it.”

Nod.

“If Lucy makes you do something sexual, you’ll do it.”

Nod.

### Session 43:

“You like seeing how powerful I am, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Hypothetical: you start dreaming about my power.”

Nod.

“You dream about it every night.”

Nod.

“It becomes an obsession.”

Nod.

“You’re obsessed with me showing off my power.”

Nod.

“You’ve seen what I can do to Marcie, and it turns you on more than you can imagine.”

Nod.

“But Marcie is just a teenage girl, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“What would really show you how powerful I am?”

“If I…”

Lucy trailed off, but I don’t think it was because she was thinking.

I think it was because she was afraid of giving me the wrong answer.

### Session A124:

“If you keep forcing Lucy to be the one to take your clothes off, she might want to talk about it.”

Nod.

I smiled. Once you worked out how someone worked, they were like putty. Sexy, obedient putty.

It had been almost two weeks, and every day had followed the same basic pattern: Mom would come home, and Lucy would make her remove her top.

“You don’t want to talk about it.”

Nod.

“You _can’t_ talk about it.”

Nod.

Lucy, of course, had been more than happy to follow my instructions. She’d first raised the topic of nudism at dinner. Mom had gone bright red, and—exactly as expected—changed the topic immediately.

My sister hadn’t dropped it, however. Later that night, she repeated it, loudly: “I want us to live more naturally.

“I want us to all be nude at home.”

Again, Mom just blushed. Before she could come up with a new subject, however, Lucy stood up.

“This is who I _am_ , Mom,” she announced, and removed her top.

I’ll tell you, the sight of my sister’s perfect tits falling into view…it’s never, ever going to get old. Her rosy-pink nipples, growing hard as they met the living-room air. The slight wobble of her breasts as she lowered her arms, and threw her sweater onto the couch.

It’s always hot, but knowing that I was sharing the sight with my blushing, constantly-aroused mother?

Wow.

For the next few days, Lucy didn’t ever wear a top inside the house. Her boobs were out for every meal we had together as a family…with Mom’s work schedule, that wasn’t many, but damn were they memorable.

I sort of missed watching her strip whenever Mom left, but…well, the plan was working.

For her part, Mom was entranced. Not like she is when I put her under, but like, whenever Lucy and her were in the same room, she couldn’t look away.

She wasn’t turned on, she was just…fascinated.

(She wasn’t turned on… _yet_.)

After a few days, I could sense that Mom had started to relax. She no longer tensed up when her topless daughter bobbled into the room; by the end of the week, she barely even glanced down at Lucy’s magnificent, ever-present rack.

That was when we moved to the second stage.

Despite running it in hypothetical without issue, I still got nervous when the day arrived. When Mom came home to find Lucy waiting for her, wearing nothing but a pair of panties, a determined look in her eyes.

“This is what you want,” she said softly, and began unbuttoning Mom’s work shirt.

In response, Mom went still. She didn’t say a word, she didn’t resist—she barely breathed as her teenage daughter raised her arms and stripped off her shirt. She looked ahead, not at either of us, somehow looking through us as Lucy undid her bra, and Mom’s bosom fell into view.

It wasn’t until Mom breathed out raggedly that I realized I’d been holding my breath as well.

This was it.

This was what I’d been dreaming of for so long.

Over the last few months, I’d seen glimpses of Mom’s tits. I knew that they were large—slightly bigger than Lucy’s. I knew the color and shape of her nipples, I knew that they sagged more than my sister’s.

I knew that they were perfect.

None of us said anything—Mom avoiding eye-contact, looking everywhere but at her two children, me openly staring at her boobs.

It became a routine after that. She’d get home, Lucy would strip her.

And she wouldn’t get dressed again until she next had to leave the house.

“You’re going to start taking off your top as soon as you get home.”

Pause.

Pause.

Nod.

“Our house is a nudist house.”

Nod.

“You’re always going to be topless when we’re at home.”

Nod.

“You don’t want to talk about this with your children.”

Nod.

“The best way to avoid talking about it is just to go along with it.”

Nod.

“Say it.”

“The best way to avoid talking about it,” Mom said, a slight quaver detectable in her monotone, “is just to go along with it.”

“As soon as you get home, you’re going to take off your top.”

Nod.

The next night, as soon as Mom got home from work, she took off her top.

### Session C17:

“What did you dream about last night, Richard?”

“…Marcie.”

“What was she doing?”

“She was…on her knees. In front of me.”

“Would you tell me what she was doing there?”

“Yes.”

It hadn’t been easy, coming up with a believable hypothetical that required Richard to tell me about his dreams. I’d managed to find an obscure study about subconscious sexuality, and convinced Richard that the updated results required detailed information from all cross-sections of society.

I’d told him it was important research. That was Richard’s key, his button: science.

It had taken time, but eventually—it worked.

“She was…going down on me.”

“Did you enjoy the dream?”

“No.”

“Not at all?”

There was a pause. I pressed on.

“Did you achieve orgasm, in the dream?”

“No.”

“Do you think you would have enjoyed it if you had?”

### Session C19:

“What did you dream about last night, Richard?”

“Marcie.”

“What was she doing?”

“She was riding me.”

“Did you enjoy the dream?”

“Yes.”

“What did you enjoy about it?”

“Seeing her happy.”

### Session C20:

“What did you dream about last night, Richard?”

“Marcie.”

“What was she doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was…taking her.”

“How?”

“From behind.”

“While she slept?”

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy the dream?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Very much.”

“Do you want the dream to come true?”

“No.”

“Not at all?”

Pause.

Richard didn’t respond.


	Chapter 6

### Session A125:

“You can’t talk to your children about sex.”

Nod.

“No matter what they’re doing, if it’s related to sex, you can’t talk about it.”

Nod.

“You can never talk to your children about sex, even if it’s to do with their health.”

Nod.

“You can never talk to your children about sex, even if it’s to do with their mental well-being.”

Nod.

“You can never talk to your children about sex, no matter the situation, no matter how perverted they’re being.”

Nod.

“If you ever talk to your children about sex, you’ll be revealed as the pervert that you are.”

Nod.

“The only way to stay safe is to never talk about sex, no matter what.”

Nod.

I took a deep breath.

It was time.

“If you caught your children making out, you wouldn’t say a word.”

Mom choked on her own breath, then nodded. A flush slowly began to run up her neck, and she shifted very slightly in her chair.

I couldn’t tell if she was uncomfortable or aroused.

Or, knowing the changes I’d made to Mom…both.

“If you caught them touching each other, you wouldn’t say anything about it.”

Blush. Nod.

“If you caught them having sex, it wouldn’t be something you could talk about with them.”

Nod.

“But it would turn you on.”

Pause. Long pause.

As Mom continued to stare glassy-eyed, I realized that this was a new idea. This was something she’d never even considered before.

It worried me. I honestly didn’t know how she was going to react.

I don’t like not knowing how people are going to react.

Not since Marcie.

Finally, the pause ended, and Mom nodded.

She was still squirming, and I didn’t know what to do. She was blushing; I didn’t know if it was from embarrassment, arousal, or both.

Her eyes looked like they wanted to dart around the room nervously. They’d never done that before.

It took me a moment to realize that I was squirming as well. I was so damn tense—tenser than I’d ever been while hypnotizing a family member before.

Was I flying too close to the sun? Or was I so worked up because I was almost there?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Hypothetical: one day, you walk in to find your children making out.”

Shake.

Yeah, that’s what I’d expected. I was just glad it hadn’t woken her up.

Mom thought that _she_ was a pervert, but aside from Lucy’s recent obsession with nudism, she had no reason to think there was anything wrong with the rest of us.

I wondered how she’d feel, when she found that we were all sickos. Would she be comforted, like Lucy was? Or would she feel responsible?

Not that it really mattered. It was happening, no matter how she felt about it.

I took a deep breath.

It was time.

“Hypothetical: You are talking to the neighbor who told you about the burglary at Marcie’s house.”

Nod.

Immediately, Mom’s entire body calmed. She was transported away from the questions I was asking, into a conversation with this hypothetical neighbor.

“You want to learn as much as you can about Marcie’s situation, don’t you?”

“No.”

Whew. Close one. Got to remember not to ask questions.

Also, not the answer I was expecting.

“The more you learn about what happened to Marcie, the more you can incorporate it into your fantasies.”

Nod.

“Would you tell me why you don’t want to learn more about what happened to Marcie?”

“No.”

Okay. Okay. I can work this one out. Mom was sexually obsessed with her daughter’s best friend’s unfortunate situation. She thought about it all the time—it fueled her every masturbation session.

Why would she not want to learn more?

“Hypothetical: you find a stack of naked pictures of Marcie in Lucy’s room.”

Nod. I think Mom was too flustered to question that one as much as she should have.

“What do you do?”

“I turn around and march straight out of the room.”

“Do you…—“

I cut myself off, wanting to slap myself in the forehead. C’mon. No questions. That was Mom-Hypnosis 101.

“You go to your room and masturbate.”

Nod.

“The next time you enter Lucy’s room, they’re not anywhere obvious.”

Nod.

“You go looking for them.”

Shake.

Why was she…ohhhhh.

That’s right.

“You strive to avoid perversion and deviancy.”

Nod.

It’s only when she’s unwillingly exposed to it that it gets in her head. I hadn’t taken into account how much of a puritan I’d turned Mom into.

It was really hard to think of her that way. I mean, she was constantly topless, and spent most of her time rubbing herself to orgasm after orgasm.

Okay. Puritan. I could work with this.

“Hypothetical: you’re talking to the neighbor who told you about Marcie’s situation.”

Nod.

“They have new information, and insist on sharing it with you. What do you do?”

“I politely tell them that I don’t want to…—“

I cut Mom off.

“They _insist_. If you refuse to hear about it, you’ll have to talk to them about sex. You don’t want to talk to them about sex, do you?”

“No.”

“They start to tell you some more details about the case that they overheard. What do you say?”

“Uh huh,” Mom said, clearly trying desperately to sound uninterested.

“They tell you that…”

Would Mom believe this? Maybe I had to butter her up a bit first.

“They tell you that their brother is a behavioral psychologist, and that he was assigned to her case.”

Nod.

“They found out why she…deteriorated so quickly.”

Nod.

“They remind you that during the burglary, Marcie and her father were forced to have sex.”

Nod.

“Your mind is filled with images of their incestuous union, but you make sure not to let it show on your face.”

Nod.

“You force yourself to tune back into what they’re saying. If they ask why you’re not listening, you’ll have to talk about sex, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t want to talk about sex, do you?”

“No.”

“You can’t talk about sex, can you?”

“No.”

“Talking about sex would out you to the world as a deviant.”

Nod.

“They’re telling you that their brother has worked out what happened to Marcie.”

Nod.

“They’re telling you that it could have been prevented.”

Nod.

“They give you the number of the scientific paper on the subject. It’s B-104-556-218.”

Nod. Mom’s a sucker for authoritative sources, but I knew she’d never look it up.

“They tell you exactly how it could have been prevented.”

Nod.

“Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“They tell you that a forced incestuous union causes a deep trauma in a teenager’s brain. It dramatically rewires their sexual impulses. If these new impulses aren’t quickly reinforced, it causes the entire brain to collapse. That’s what happened to Marcie—she had her impulses rewritten so dramatically, so strongly; without them being reinforced, she never stood a chance.”

Nod.

“The impulses get rewritten so that the teen needs to repeat the experience.”

Pause. Blush. Blush.

Pause.

Pause.

Then, just as I was starting to panic:

Nod.

“Repeating the experience would have reinforced the impulses, and she would have been fine. She would have gone on to live a normal, healthy life. Instead, she’s trapped in her own mind, endlessly reliving the burglary.”

Nod.

“If Marcie’s father had just had sex with her, she’d be fine.”

Nod.

“If Marcie and her father had just repeated what happened, she would have been a normal, healthy teen.”

Nod.

“But her father wasn’t a teenager, and so his impulses weren’t rewired.”

Nod.

“He didn’t want to do it; he saw it as an awful, traumatic experience that should never be revisited.”

Nod.

“When she threw herself at him, trying desperately to repair her mind, he rejected her.”

Nod.

“And because her father didn’t have sex with her, her mind collapsed.”

Nod.

“Because they didn’t repeat the experience, she’s forced to live the rest of her life as a shell of her former self.”

Nod.

“The neighbor goes on. What do you do?”

“I nod.”

“Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Are you taking it all in?”

“Yes.”

“Good g…—”

I cut myself off. I’d been ‘Good girl’ing Lucy so much, it had become a habit. But I got the feeling that Mom wouldn’t like it.

“She goes on to tell you that the research shows that just repeating it once isn’t enough. To really ensure that the mind isn’t completely destroyed, the victims have to repeat it again and again and again and again, over and over.”

Nod.

“In order to escape from such an ordeal unharmed, Marcie would have needed to have sex with her father regularly.”

Nod.

“They would have had to have sex a few times a week for years.”

Nod.

“Your mind flashes with images of Marcie, on her knees in front of her father; sucking his dick, taking him inside her every hole.”

Nod.

“You’re dripping wet, and you just can’t wait to get off.”

Nod.

“These thoughts are going to be fueling your sick fantasies for months, if not years.”

Nod.

“The knowledge that Marcie could have been normal if she’d just had sex with her father…it’s going to take over your brain.”

Nod.

“It’s all you’ll be able to think about.”

Nod.

“You’re going to cum and cum and cum, imagining your daughter’s best friend being used by her Dad as a little fuckhole.”

Mom doesn’t like it when I swear, but I doubt she even noticed.

She nodded.

“You’re soaked at the idea.”

Nod.

You might be wondering if I needed to be so graphic…well, maybe not. But it was fun to watch Mom get so flustered. That, and I _really_ needed to lock this idea into her head, or the next part of the plan was never going to work.

I swallowed—my mouth was so dry!—and continued.

“Do you believe what the neighbor told you?”

“Yes.”

“You believe that after a traumatic incestuous experience, teenagers have their sexual impulses rewired.”

Nod.

“You believe that they need to repeat it over and over, for years, or their mind will collapse…like Marcie’s did.”

Nod.

“You are wet thinking about it for days.”

Nod.

“You go into your room every chance you get, and cum at the idea.”

Nod.

“There are only two options after an experience like that—life as a braindead sex zombie, or being forced to repeat the experience.”

Nod.

“You find them both _incredibly_ hot, don’t…”

I cut myself off. Almost asked another question.

“You find them both incredibly hot.”

Nod.

“You can’t stop thinking about either scenario.”

Nod.

Good.

Now…now for the hard part.

From what’s happened so far, you might not believe it, but I really don’t think of myself as a bad guy. I know that trancing one’s entire family into sex slaves isn’t the right thing to do, but…it wasn’t like I was tying them up and making them fuck me.

I wanted them to want me. It’s not the same, y’know?

And the _last_ thing I wanted was for anyone to suffer. What happened to Marcie was eating me up inside, and I was determined not to let that happen to anyone else, ever.

Ever.

That’s why I was working so hard to avoid it. If what happened to Marcie happened to my Mom and sister as well, I’d never be able to forgive myself. And, like, I’d still get to fuck them. It was more than that.

I loved them. They were my family. I wanted to take care of them, and I didn’t want to cause them any pain.

And that’s why what I did next was so difficult.

In order to create familial bliss, I had to first cause some pain.

With a deep sigh, I continued.

“A week after your chat with the neighbor…our house is burgled.”

I winced as Mom’s eyes widened, but she didn’t hesitate before nodding.

“You’re at work.”

Nod.

“Me and Lucy were alone.”

Nod.

“If you were at home, maybe you could have done something.”

Nod.

A tear trickled down my mother’s cheek, and I wanted to end the hypothetical. I wanted to hug her, tell her that everything was okay, that no one was hurt.

But if I did that…

No. I couldn’t.

It wasn’t an option.

“You weren’t home,” I repeated, my voice slightly choked up. “You weren’t home, so what happened was…”

I paused to wipe my own eye.

“You weren’t home, so what happened was your fault.”

Sorry, Mom.

Nod.

### Session A3:

“You love me, don’t you Mom?”

“Yes.”

“And you love Lucy.”

“Yes.”

“And you know that I love you.”

“Yes.”

“And that I love Lucy.”

“Yes.”

“You know that I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“So while you’re hypnotized, you can trust me.”

“Yes.”

“While you’re hypnotized, you’re completely safe.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“While I’m hypnotized, I’m completely safe.”

“And you can trust me to hypnotize Lucy.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you love us, and you’ll never do anything to hurt either one of us.”

### Session A125:

“While you were out, a burglar came in. The same one who robbed Marcie.”

Nod.

“The burglar forced…”

Mom’s skin paled. She knew what was coming next.

“The burglar likes to make family members play with each other.”

Nod.

“The burglar likes to make family members do sexual things with each other.”

Nod.

“Against their will.”

Nod.

“While you were out working, the burglar made me fuck Lucy.”

Nod.

“If I didn’t do what he said, he would have killed us both.”

Nod.

“He had a knife to Lucy’s throat as he made her suck my cock.”

Nod.

“He had a knife to her throat as she swallowed my cum.”

Nod.

“He held us hostage.”

Nod.

“We had no choice.”

Nod.

“He made Lucy go down on me.”

Nod.

“He made me go down on Lucy.”

Nod.

“Lucy came from me going down on her.”

Nod.

“He made me fuck Lucy.”

Nod.

“He made me fuck her in the…in the ass.”

Nod.

“He made me fuck her in the pussy.”

Nod.

“He made me cum all over her body.”

Nod.

“Lucy came from me fucking her.”

Nod.

“Lucy came from me fucking her in the ass.”

Nod.

“Lucy and I made each other cum, over and over again.”

Nod.

“We were held hostage for hours, fucking each other over and over again, doing everything he told us to.”

Nod.

“When you come home, he’s gone.”

Nod.

“We tell you about everything that happened.”

Nod.

“Lucy’s crying.”

Nod.

“I’m…I’m crying as well.”

Nod.

“We’re both still naked.”

Nod.

“You can see my cum, drying on Lucy’s body.”

Nod.

“You can smell the scent of sex.”

Nod.

“You can see our bruises.”

Nod.

“You can see Lucy’s…privates are red.”

Nod.

“It’s obvious that we’ve been through hell.”

Nod.

“When we tell you about this, you have no choice but to listen.”

Nod.

“We tell you about the ordeal that we’ve been through, and you have to listen to every detail.”

Nod.

“But you can’t say anything, can you?”

“No.”

“You can’t talk to us about sex, can you?”

“No.”

“If you start talking to us about sex, it’ll all come out, won’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If you start talking to us about sex, we’ll find out what a pervert you are, won’t we?”

“Yes.”

“So while we tell you about everything that happened, you have to remain completely silent.”

Nod.

“We tell you about our ordeal, and you don’t say a thing.”

Nod.

My heart felt like it was being torn in half as I watched the steady stream of tears pour down my mother’s face, but I couldn’t stop.

Not yet.

I was _so close_.

“We tell you about the most stressful, horrible, awful ordeal of our life, and you don’t say a word. You don’t offer any support, you don’t tell us it’s going to be okay.”

Nod.

“When we’re done talking, you get up.”

Nod.

“You go to your room.”

Nod.

“And you get yourself off.”

Mom was openly sobbing at this point, but she still nodded.

“You have the most powerful orgasm of your life.”

Nod.

“The closer perverted things are to home, the more they turn you on.”

Nod.

“The sicker they are, the more hot you find them.”

Nod.

“The closer they are to people you know and love, the more erotic you find it.”

Nod.

_It’s okay, Mom,_ I wanted to whisper. _None of this happened. It’s just a story._

But if I did, one of two things would happen: my ultimate fantasy would never come true…or I’d have to put her through this again.

Both options were unacceptable.

“Something this sick, this perverted…something like this, happening to _your own family_ …”

Mom nodded, before I even finished my thought.

“It consumes your mind.”

Nod.

“It’s all you can think about.”

Nod.

“You become a dripping, sopping mess.”

Nod.

“You failed your family.”

Nod.

“You can’t stop getting off, thinking about your children.”

Nod.

“You masturbate constantly, thinking about your children fucking.”

Nod.

“You’re always aroused.”

Nod.

“You’re always wet.”

Nod.

“Your nipples are always hard.”

Nod.

“You touch yourself whenever you get a chance.”

Nod.

“You can get off just from tweaking your nipples, thinking about your son titty-fucking your daughter.”

Shake.

Ah, crap. Maybe Mom doesn’t have Lucy’s hair-trigger orgasm capabilities?

Or maybe…

Oh.

“We told you that the burglar made me fuck Lucy’s tits.”

Nod.

“You can get off just from pinching your nipples, thinking about your son titty-fucking your daughter.”

Nod.

“You’re a terrible mother.”

Nod.

“You’re a walking orgasm.”

Nod.

“Sex is all you think about.”

Nod.

“You become obsessed with incest.”

Nod.

“You become obsessed with your son and daughter fornicating.”

Nod.

“It’s all you think about.”

Nod.

“You cum all the time.”

Nod.

“You cum six times a day.”

Nod.

“At least.”

Nod.

“You think about your children as you do.”

Nod.

“You’re an awful mother.”

Nod.

“You’re a complete slut.”

Nod.

The crying had stopped. Mom’s eyes and face were still red, but she’d stopped shuddering, and the tears had stopped sliding down her face.

She was shifting in her chair, and I could tell that she wanted nothing more than to get off. There was more work that I needed to do, but I didn’t want to push it. Not today.

Still, I needed to make sure that the memory stuck, and that it wouldn’t affect her willingness to be hypnotized, or affect her nudism.

Well, I didn’t _need_ to make sure it didn’t affect her nudism, but I had gotten used to my Mom walking around with her tits out, and I didn’t want that to change any time soon.

“You remember that the neighbor told you it was important not to change things up after a traumatic event. Marcie’s father changed their routine, and that made the effect even worse.”

Nod.

“It’s important not to change your behavior.”

Nod.

“After the burglary, you keep taking off your clothes each day after work.”

Nod.

“You keep letting your son hypnotize you.”

Nod.

“If Lucy does something sexual, you can’t talk about it.”

Nod.

“If Lucy does something sexual, you have to go along with it.”

Nod.

“If Lucy does something sexual, it adds to your arousal.”

Nod.

“Whenever you witness your children doing something sexual, it turns you on beyond belief.”

Nod.

I paused. Was I forgetting anything?

Ah.

“And you never, ever talk to them about what happened. You don’t tell the police, you don’t tell your friends, you don’t tell your boss. No one can ever know about what happened…because then, you’d be talking about sex. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe if you’d told someone, your children would have been able to get help.”

Nod.

“Maybe there would have been another way.”

Nod.

“But they didn’t, because of your hang-ups, and so they were forced to fuck each other.”

Nod.

“It’s your fault.”

Nod.

I was hard as a rock. I read somewhere that a crying woman makes men hard; it’s like, a biological thing.

That’s what it had to be, right?

I cleaned Mom’s face up as best as I could and slowly woke her, locking in the horrific memories of her children’s abuse…and her deviant reaction to them.

This was going to be…well, interesting.


	Chapter 7

I didn’t tell Lucy about what I’d done to Mom.

A part of me was scared, I guess. I knew it was a means to an end—a happy ending, in every sense of the phrase.

But I also knew that what I’d done was…well, it wasn’t you’d call _nice_.

I think I could have. Lucy was so turned on by my power; even if I was being a monster, I’m sure she’d still love it.

Maybe she’d love it more.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I love my sister, I love my Mom. Seeing Mom break down like that…it had almost been more than I could deal with.

I couldn’t share that with my sister. I just couldn’t do it.

Watching Mom over the next few days though…god.

It absolutely worth it.

Where she’d been fascinated by Lucy’s bare breasts for the nudism aspect, now it was clear that she was obsessed with them for the same reason as me: Because they’re perfect, glorious orbs of pure sex.

Lucy noticed Mom’s attention. She told me about it, when she was awake. I answered honestly, sort of:

“I think she’s into you.”

Lucy almost came at the words.

Lucy had spent some time teasing me, before becoming my slave. Wearing slutty outfits, bending over when she knew I was looking. It only took an order—not even a session—to convince her to do the same with Mom, except more-so. She didn’t have to tease with skimpy clothes…she could tease with her bare skin.

Whenever she caught Mom looking at her, she’d casually run a hand down her breast, brush a finger against her nipple. Lucy would often walk around the house in nothing but a pair of panties; if Mom was looking, she’d spread her legs, ensure her wet spot was visible.

And there was always a wet spot.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to hide my lust for my sister. As far as Mom was concerned, we’d fucked. Our impulses had been rewritten; I could stare at my sister’s perfect form, bite my lip when she was being particularly provocative…and whenever both my Mom and Lucy were in the room, keep the outline of my hard cock as visible through my boxers as I liked.

Mom’s implanted memories also meant that Lucy and I had a lot more time to ourselves. More than six times a day, I’d said—that left Lucy and I alone a _lot_.

I wouldn’t have believed it if you’d told me a year ago, but there’s a limit to how much time I wanted to spend jerking off on my sister’s face, or having her swallow yet another load of my cum.

Fortunately, I had another way we could spend our time.

### Session 43:

“What would really show you how powerful I am?”

I’d planned on telling her about what I’d done to Mom, the changes I’d wrought. I’d planned on demonstrating my power by showing her what I’d done to our mother.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do that, so I needed a new plan.

“If I…”

There was a long pause, as Lucy mustered up the courage to answer.

“If you fucked me.”

I tilted my head to the side. My sister, god bless her, never failed to surprise me.

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because…it’s wrong. It’s incest. We can never do it.”

I guess that made sense. If I made her do something that she insisted we could _never_ do, that would be proof of my power.

Only trouble was, the reason I was trying to establish my power was so that I _could_ fuck her.

I needed another angle.

“What if I fucked Mom?”

Lucy’s eyes fluttered briefly. If I’d been touching her (or she’d been touching me), I’d bet anything that she would have cum at the question.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, if you fucked Mom, that would show me how powerful you are.”

“Why?”

“Because Mom would never do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s incest. Because it’s wrong.”

I don’t know if there’s a name for it, but I’ve noticed that my sister tends to project her morals onto other people a lot. She thinks that fucking your sibling is wrong, therefore I’d never do it. Therefore, I’d never ask her to.

Lucy _would_ do it if I asked her to, but because _she_ thinks it’s so wrong, it’s something that I would never ask her to do.

It’s a little recursive, and a whole lot of a nuisance.

“If I showed you I was that powerful, how would you feel?”

There was a pause, as Lucy found the right word.

“Awed.”

“What would you do?”

“Anything.”

My ears perked up at that.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“If I fucked Mom, would you fuck me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d be so powerful.”

“So?”

“So you’d be too powerful to resist.”

### Session 49:

“I am all-powerful, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“You cannot resist me, can you?”

“No.”

“What will you do if I order you to do something?”

“I will obey.”

“What if you don’t want to?”

“I will obey.”

“What if you think that it’s wrong?”

“I will obey.”

“Say it again.”

“I will obey.”

“Again.”

“I will obey.”

### Session 43:

“Would you have sex with Mom?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would be incest, and it’s wrong.”

Interesting, though not unexpected.

“Is it incest when you go down on me?”

“No.”

“Is it incest when I finger you?”

“No.”

“Is it incest when I go down on you?”

“No.”

“So going down on someone or fingering them isn’t incest, is it?”

“No.”

“Would you finger Mom?”

“…yes.”

“Would you go down on Mom?”

“Yes.”

That one came faster, firmer. After all, it wasn’t incest, right?

“Would you let Mom finger you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let Mom go down on you?”

“Yes.”

Zero hesitation.

“So…what would count as having sex with Mom?”

There was a long pause at that one.

“…I don’t know.”

I could have left it there. If Lucy and Mom were ‘just’ eating each other out and cumming around each other’s digits, that was more than enough for me.

But I had to push through Lucy’s incest barrier somehow, and this was as good a place as any to start.

“Lesbian sex is fingering and oral, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. And toys.”

“You let me use toys on you, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you use toys on me?”

“Yes.”

Not that I wanted her to.

“So using toys isn’t incest, is it?”

“No.”

“Would you use toys on Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let Mom use toys on you?”

“Yes.”

“Fingering, oral, toys—you’d do it all with Mom?”

“Yes.”

“So you’d have sex with Mom, wouldn’t you?”

There was a pause. I always got uncomfortable when there was a long pause. I’d already fried one person’s mind; I definitely didn’t want to do it again.

But I’d seen this before. Lucy is good at tying herself into weird loops, and it takes her a while to unravel them.

“…yes.”

“Would you commit incest with Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Would it be wrong?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s different, with girls. It doesn’t count.”

I rolled my eyes. For someone so progressive, Lucy’s sense of gender politics could be really twisted when it suited her.

### Session 49:

“I was born to be your slave.”

“Say it again.”

“I was born to be your slave.”

“Good girl.”

My sister twitched with pleasure at the compliment.

“You were born to serve. Say it.”

“I was born to serve.”

“Again.”

“I was born to serve.”

### Session 43:

“Hypothetical: you walk in on me and Mom having sex.”

Shake.

I knew she’d react that way, of course, but I was out of ideas.

“Why don’t you believe I’d have sex with Mom?”

“It’s incest.”

“Incest can be hot, can’t it?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Even through the monotone, Lucy almost sounded like she was begging.

“So what would stop me?”

“It’s wrong.”

I could get lost for hours in the maze that is my sister’s morality, but I couldn’t see it being worth it. If she thinks something is wrong, or unfair, she…

My eyes widened.

_Unfair._

“Hypothetical: You start having regular sex with Mom.”

Nod.

I was almost tripping over my words, such was my desperation to get them out.

“You and Mom start having regular sex.”

Nod. I didn’t even have to build into it; Lucy was completely onboard with having regular sex with Mom.

I mean, why wouldn’t she? It wouldn’t be incest, after all.

“You know how much it turns me on.”

Nod.

“You know how hard it gets me.”

Nod.

“But you also know that I’m jealous.”

Lucy paused, and I elaborated.

“I love both of you, and I find you both so attractive.”

Nod. I’d never explicitly let Lucy know how sexy I found Mom, but I guess she’d just sort of worked it out.

“I’d love to have sex with either of you, but I can’t.”

Nod.

“Because it’s _wrong_.”

Nod.

“But you and Mom can have sex, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You have Mom can have sex—in front of me—and it’s totally fine, because it’s not incest.”

Nod.

“But if I were to have sex with one of you, that would be incest.”

Nod.

“I tell you how much it’s hurting me, knowing that you two can be together and that we can’t. What do you say?”

“Jack,” Lucy said tenderly. “It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same.”

“I tell you that I know, but it still doesn’t stop the pain. What do you say?”

“I’ll stop.”

The matter-of-fact way that she answered made my heart melt. It sometimes felt like my sister would do anything for me.

Well, almost anything.

“I tell you that I can’t make you do that; I know how much you enjoy it. How much Mom enjoys it. What do you say?”

“Please…”

Lucy trailed off. I smiled.

Doubt. She didn’t have an answer. There was a gap.

And where there was a gap, there were limits, ready to be pushed.

### Session 49:

“Who were you born to serve?”

“You.”

“Good girl.”

Twitch.

“You exist for my pleasure. Say it.”

“I exist for your pleasure.”

“Again.”

“I exist for your pleasure.”

“Good girl.”

If my fingers hadn’t been deep inside her, I think she would have twitched right off the chair.

### Session 43:

“Do you enjoy what we do?”

“Yes.”

Zero hesitation there.

“What do you enjoy about it?”

“Serving you.”

Again, not even a hint of doubt.

“How does it make you feel?”

“Happy. Turned on. Fulfilled.”

I didn’t even remember instructing her to feel fulfilled. The idea that she just naturally felt that way was _so_ hot to me, but I had to stay focused.

“How do you feel about us going back to how we were before?”

Lucy didn’t even need to answer; the look of sadness that passed across her blank gaze said it all.

“You don’t want to disobey me, do you?”

“No sir.”

“Hypothetical: You’re having regular sex with our mother, and I get jealous. I’m upset that I can’t have sex with either of you, because it’s wrong. I tell you that there are only two choices: I start having sex with one of you, or we all have to end it. What do you say?”

My sister paused, and I gripped my own leg hard enough to leave a bruise. I was watching her face like a hawk—any sign of her waking up meant that I had to dive in, reverse the hypothetical. She couldn’t wake up now, thinking she was having regular sex with our mother.

Not yet.

It was minutes (that felt like hours), just as I was about to pull the plug, before she answered. Slowly. Cautiously.

Thoughtfully.

“…what if we worked things out, so that…”

I waited.

“What if we worked things out, so that…so that you and Mom could…have sex?”

### Session 44:

The next time I put Lucy under, I ran the same hypothetical, just to be sure.

The pause was shorter this time, but the answer was the same.

“What if you and Mom had sex?”

I smiled.

“Wouldn’t that be incest?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t that be _wrong_?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe that I’d do it?”

“Yes.”

“In what circumstances?”

“If…if I made you.”

Lucy, for all her submissive tendencies, is a real control freak.

Me fucking our mother? Impossible. Would never happen. Never, ever, ever.

Unless, of course, it was for _her_.

As far as she was concerned, she was still the one who had been leading us down this path of sin. Me dominating her, owning her, bringing her off with my hand: it had been _her_ fantasy. Everything she’d done…she’d convinced herself that it wasn’t _wrong_ , it wasn’t _incest_.

Because it was her idea.

“How could you make me?”

“I could cry. Beg. Plead.”

“In what situation would you do that?”

“If I thought things were going to end.”

I smiled.

“You think things are going to end between us unless I fuck you or Mom. What do you do?”

“I convince you to fuck Mom.”

Amazing. Something occurred to me; something I hadn’t thought of in the previous session.

“Why Mom? Why not you?”

“Because if we had sex, that would be incest.”

“Isn’t it incest if I fuck Mom?”

“Yes, but…”

I rode out the pause.

“…it isn’t as bad.”

Interesting.

“Why isn’t it as bad if I fuck Mom?”

As Lucy paused, I silently wondered what she was going to say. Because Mom was older? Because Mom was less likely to get pregnant? Because Mom was our…Mom?

“Because you’d be doing it for me,” Lucy eventually answered.

“What do you mean?”

“You’d never do it yourself. You’d never do something so wrong. But if I asked you to, you’d do it…for me.”

I took a moment to ponder my sister’s bizarre moral stance. There was a certain logic to it, I suppose. It seemed my sister believed that if someone did something out of _necessity_ , it wasn’t as bad as doing it for pleasure.

Like when I’d ‘broken my arms’. My sister had jerked me off 34 to 37 times. I knew she’d enjoyed it, and she knew she’d enjoyed it. But because she’d _had_ to, that enjoyment…hadn’t counted, so to speak.

We could do stuff that was wrong, as long as it was for the right reasons.

And in my sister’s beautiful, twisted mind, allowing her to continue fooling around with me was a prime example of a ‘right reason’ to commit incest.

Y’know. As long as it wasn’t _her_ that was doing it.

“Why would it be bad if I fucked you?” I asked, pretty sure that I already knew the answer.

“Because,” my sister said hesitantly. “I’d enjoy it too much.”

### Session 47:

“Please,” my sister begged. “Please please please please please please please.”

“‘I tell you ‘no’. What do you say?”

“ _Please_ …”

“I say no, not until I do. What do you say?”

“Oh god, please. I’ll do anything!”

I smiled. That was what I’d been waiting to hear.

### Session A127:

It had been a week. For a full week, Mom had been cumming more than six times a day, picturing me and Lucy fucking.

Forty-two orgasms, minimum. Her head full of images of her only two children, fornicating at knife-point.

I’d hypnotized her once in that week, just to avoid suspicion, but it had only been for a few minutes. I didn’t want to risk messing around with Mom’s new thought patterns, not until they’d had a chance to settle.

I figured a week was enough time.

“You are constantly, uncontrollably aroused by your own children.”

Nod.

“You know that they’ve fucked.”

Nod.

“You know that they’ve done things that siblings should never, ever do.”

Nod.

“And you know that it’s permanently rewired their impulses.”

Mom froze—at least, as much as an entranced, already-stationary person _can_ freeze.

Her eyes widened, her breathing quickened, and a slight flush began to creep up her neck.

Nod.

“You know that they’re going to do it again.”

Nod.

“You know that they _need_ to do it again.”

Nod.

“You know that your children are going to fuck again, in the house.”

Nod.

“They’ve both been permanently altered.”

Nod.

“They _need_ to fuck again, or they’ll end up like Marcie.”

Twitch. Nod.

“Your children are going to fuck inside the house.”

Nod.

“If they don’t, they’re going to suffer permanent mental damage.”

Nod.

“You don’t want that.”

Nod.

“As a mother, you’re concerned for your children.”

Nod.

“But you also know that you can never, ever talk to them about this.”

Nod.

“So there’s only one thing you can do, isn’t there?”

“Yes.”

My mother’s mumble was hard for me to catch, but I knew that she’d agree.

She’s a great Mom.

“You need to make sure that they’re messing around.”

Nod.

“You need to make sure that your children are fooling around with each other.”

Nod.

“You _need_ to, for their safety.”

Nod.

“Since you can’t talk to them about it, for your children’s well-being, you need to make sure they’re fucking.”

Nod.

“You can’t talk to them about it.”

Nod.

“You can’t say anything to them.”

Nod.

“So the only way to confirm it’s happening is to catch them in the act.”

Nod.

“You need to watch your children fooling around.”

Nod.

“You need to watch Lucy sucking your son off.”

Nod.

“You need to watch me going down on your daughter.”

Nod.

“You need to watch me fucking her tits.”

Nod.

“Cumming on her face.”

Nod.

“Cumming on her body.”

Nod.

“Only once you’ve seen all of those things will you be sure that they’re safe.”

Nod.

“That means that you’ll need to spy on them, all the time.”

Nod.

“You’ll need to watch your children getting each other off, every time you get the chance.”

Nod.

“These perverted images are going to enter your mind.”

Nod.

“You’re going to have even more fuel to get off to.”

Nod.

“But it’s something you _have_ to do, for your children.”

Nod.

“After you confirm what they’re doing, you’ll go to your room and get off.”

Nod.

“You’ll have the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever had.”

Nod.

“The fresh images running through your head will turn you on more than you can imagine.”

Nod.

“After all these decades of imagining perversity, you’re going to _see_ it.”

Nod.

“You _have_ to see it.”

Nod.

“You are going to watch your children fool around, then get off to what you’ve seen.”

Nod.

With a smile, I woke Mom up, and she blushingly thanked me for helping her relax.

### Session 44:

Lucy was going to beg me to fuck Mom. I could make her do it in real life; I knew exactly the cards I had to play.

But first, she had to be having regular sex with Mom.

“New hypothetical: I order you to, next time you’re alone with Mom, make out with her.”

Shake.

God damn it, Lucy. You can never make anything easy, can you?

“Hypothetical: I tell you that I’d find it really hot if you made out with Mom. It’s not an order, I’m just talking dirty.”

Nod.

“You decide to do it, just to please me.”

Pause.

Nod.

With a smile, I woke her up.

“…what were we talking about?”

“I was talking dirty, sis.”

“Oh, yeah…”

“Suck my cock, slut.”

Lucy dropped to her knees without hesitation.

### Session A128:

Mom had been spying on us for less than twenty-four hours when I put her under again. Every time me and Lucy were alone, I could tell that she was lurking. To help her out, I started leaving the door ajar wherever we fooled around. I made a mental note to only hypnotize Lucy when Mom wasn’t home— _that_ was the one thing I didn’t want her to see. Not that it wouldn’t be hot, having Mom work that into her fantasies, but I didn’t want to do anything that risked Mom refusing to let me put her under again.

Not when I was so close.

“It’s important that you continue to act as you did before the burglary, isn’t it?”

Mom nodded, a blush rising just at the memory of what Lucy and I had ‘done’.

“That means that you won’t talk to your children about sex, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If you talk to your children about sex, you’ll be exposed as a deviant.”

Nod.

“You want to avoid that at all costs.”

Nod.

I took a deep breath. Time to go.

“Your children’s sexual impulses were rewired, weren’t they?”

“We should really do this more often,” Mom smiled.

Whoops. Question.

### Session A129:

“Your children’s sexual impulses were rewired.”

Nod.

I’d put Mom under again immediately. She’d posed no objection.

“They now find incest sexually appealing.”

Nod.

“Their taboos have been completely stripped away.”

Nod.

“Family don’t find each other sexy, do they?”

“No.”

“But your children have been altered.”

There was a long pause, followed by a slow nod.

“Your son and daughter find each other sexy now.”

Nod.

“That means they find family members sexy.”

Nod.

“You’ve got a sexy body.”

Nod. I was glad to know that Mom’s higher self-image had stuck, even after the rest of my messing around.

“You have a sexy body.”

Nod.

“Your children now find family members sexy.”

Nod.

“That means that they’re going to find you sexy.”

Pause. Nod.

“You still strip off when you get home.”

Nod. She did.

“You strip off when you get home, and you walk around naked.”

Nod.

“Your body is sexy, and you expose it to your children.”

Nod.

“Your children are going to notice your sexy body.”

Nod.

“Your children are going to notice your sexy body, and find it sexy.”

Nod.

“Your children find you sexy.”

Nod.

“Your children have been rewired to lose their taboos, and they find you sexy.”

Nod.

Phew. I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew that once Mom agreed to that, the rest was going to be relatively easy.

“You have never talked to your children about sex, have you?”

“No.”

“You refuse to talk to your children about sex.”

Nod.

“But since the burglary, you’ve seen them having sex.”

Nod.

“You’ve seen that Lucy is quite aggressive.”

Nod.

My sister is very submissive, actually. But she loves doing what she’s told, so when I ordered her to start aggressively initiating all our sexual contact, she did.

“You’ve seen that when she wants something, she takes it.”

Nod.

“You’ve seen that what she wants is your son.”

Nod.

“You’ve seen her insist that he fuck her tits, that she blow him, that she go down on him.”

Nod.

“You know that when your daughter thinks something is sexy, she doesn’t hesitate to act upon that attraction.”

Nod.

“Your daughter thinks that you’re sexy.”

Again, Mom tensed up. Again, a slight pause.

And again, she nodded.

“That means your daughter is going to act on that attraction.”

Nod.

“That means your daughter is going to make a move on you.”

Nod.

“To refuse would be to talk about sex, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“So when your daughter makes a move on you, you’re not going to talk about it.”

Nod.

“You’re going to just go along with whatever she does.”

Nod.

“It’s going to turn you on.”

Nod.

“Sexual contact with your daughter is going to be the single most perverse thing you’ve ever done.”

Nod.

“And the hottest.”

Nod.

### Session 45:

“Mom finds us attractive, doesn’t she?”

“Yes.”

I loved it when my sister’s moan penetrated her monotone.

“Would you believe me if I told you she was too shy to act on it?”

“Yes.”

“What if I told you that her deepest desire was for you to initiate sexual contact with her?”

“I would believe you.”

### Session A129:

“Hypothetical: Lucy pulls your head to her pussy.”

Shake. Fair enough. With Lucy, it was easy to jump right to the end.

Mom required things at a slightly different pace.

“Hypothetical: Lucy brushes her hand against your breast, trying to make it seem accidental.”

Nod.

“What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.”

Nod.

I slowly woke her up.

### Session A133:

“Hypothetical: Lucy grabs your boob. What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“You think about it the next time you get off.”

Nod.

### Session A136:

“Hypothetical: You’re sitting on the couch. Lucy sits beside you and puts a hand on your boob. What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“The feeling of your daughter’s hand on your breast is the most erotic feeling in the world.”

Nod.

### Session A140:

“Hypothetical: Lucy starts sucking on your nipple at breakfast. What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Knowing that the last time she did that, she was breastfeeding—it’s sick.”

Nod.

“It’s wrong.”

Nod.

“It instantly makes you soaking wet.”

Nod.

### Session A146:

“Hypothetical: Lucy starts making out with you. What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“If you do nothing, she might be displeased. She might want to tell you how you can do better. That would be talking about sex, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If you do nothing, she’ll talk to you about sex.”

Nod.

“If you return the kiss, she’ll be satisfied, and you won’t have to discuss sex with your daughter.”

Nod.

“You can’t talk to your kids about sex. If Lucy starts making out with you, the only way to avoid it is to return the kiss.”

Nod.

“Hypothetical: Lucy starts making out with you. What do you do?”

Silence. After a beat, I realized what I’d done; tried to discuss sex with my mother.

“Hypothetical: Lucy starts making out with you. You return the kiss.”

Nod.

“Passionately.”

Nod.

“You are on the verge of orgasm the entire time.”

Nod.

I slowly woke her up.

### Session A158:

“Hypothetical: Lucy pulls your head to her pussy. You start enthusiastically performing cunnilingus.”

Nod.

“It’s even hotter than you imagined it would be.”

Nod.

### Session A161:

“Hypothetical: Lucy reaches down your panties, and starts fingering your pussy. You moan loudly and enthusiastically, to show how into it you are.”

Nod.

“You don’t have to fake it, not even a little.”

Nod.

### Session A163:

“Hypothetical: Your son touches your boob.”

Shake.

Damn it. My own passivity in our little shows had worked against me.

Unless…

“New hypothetical: Lucy places my hands on your boob.”

Nod.

“Your perverted side wants your son to do so much more.”

Nod.

“You cum at the feeling of his hand touching your nipple.”

Nod.

I smiled, and woke her up.

### Session A168:

“Hypothetical: Lucy guides my cock between your tits. You push them together, and silently plead for me to fuck your tits.”

Nod.

“The next time you’re playing with yourself, you’re remembering the feeling of my cock between your tits.”

Nod.

### Session A172:

“Hypothetical: Lucy isn’t home.”

Nod.

“I’ve been fucking your tits for weeks, always being guided by Lucy.”

Nod.

“You can tell that I’m horny. You recognize the signs.”

Nod.

“I see your big, beautiful tits, just begging for me to take them.”

Nod.

“I lower my underpants…”

Nod.

“…and begin fucking your tits.”

Nod.

“You enthusiastically use your hands.”

Nod.

“Until I cum onto your face.”

Nod.

“My orgasm triggers your own.”

Nod.

“You cum when I cum.”

Nod.

“You always cum at the sight of your son’s orgasm.”

Nod.

“You always cum when your son does.”

Nod.

### Session A178:

“Hypothetical: Lucy isn’t home.”

Nod.

“She’s been guiding my cock into your mouth for weeks.”

Nod.

“You can tell I’m horny.”

Nod.

“I lower my pants, and move my cock to your lips.”

Nod.

“They part obediently, and you stick your tongue out for me.”

Nod.

“You make your mouth a warm, wonderful tunnel for me to fuck.”

Nod.

“I slide my cock between your lips.”

Nod.

“And I fuck your mouth until I cum.”

Nod.

“You cum when I cum.”

Nod.

“You cum as you’re swallowing your own son’s seed.”

Nod.

“You’re a cocksucking slut of a mother.”

Nod.

“It turns you on.”

Nod.

“Your inner perversions are showing.”

Nod.

“It feels freeing.”

Nod.

“You can still never talk about it.”

Nod.

“But there’s something deeply satisfying about being such a whore.”

Nod.

I smiled. This was normally where I’d wake my mother up. This was normally where I’d slowly wake her up, locking in the hypothetical.

But I’d been doing this for almost two hours, my dick rock hard almost the entire time.

I figured I deserved a treat.

Mom didn’t say a word as I unzipped my pants. She didn’t say anything as I pulled my erection out.

Her eyes—still blank—widened slightly as I moved my hardness towards my face, but she didn’t move, and she didn’t say a word.

As my cock approached her mouth, her lips parted, and her tongue reached out to taste my head.


	Chapter 8

After I came in Mom’s mouth, I woke her up.

Then, I came in her mouth again.

It was everything I’d dreamed of. Lucy’s blowjobs were different—they were more slavish; she used every part of her body to serve as she fellated me: her hand, stroking my shaft; her tongue, swirling around my head; her shoulders pushed back, to emphasize her tits.

Mom was, weird though it sounds, much more…inexperienced? I had no idea how many guys she’d blown, and I suspected I’d never know.

The pleasure of Mom giving head came from the stunned way she approached it.

It was so hot, feeling my cock enter her warm and ready mouth, her eyes looking up at me as if she truly couldn’t believe this was happening. She was topless, but—unlike my sister—she didn’t use her body to show off her boobs. If anything, it was like she was subtly trying to hide them, like she knew she _couldn’t_ hide her tits from me, yet still didn’t want to show them off.

Her mouth moved slowly, like she was about to wake up from a dream at any moment. Her tongue was tentative; it didn’t run around my cock, but rested at the bottom of her mouth, occasionally lapping the underside of my shaft.

And her hands weren’t used to jerk me off, but to grab my legs, to steady herself.

The greatest moment was when I came, and—for the first time—saw my Mom cumming too.

Her eyes fluttered, threatening to roll back in her head, but never lost eye contact. She stared at me as she swallowed my seed—her own son’s seed—and then blushed a furious red as she uncontrollably reached her own orgasm.

It was perfect. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of.

I wanted to do it again, and again, and again.

And the best thing was…I could.

### Session 45:

“You will initiate sexual contact with Mom, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because she wants me to.”

“Any other reasons?”

“Because I want to.”

“Any other reason?”

There was a pause. I could tell Lucy was concerned about displeasing me.

No, not concerned.

Scared.

That turned me on more than I wanted to admit.

“You will initiate sexual contact with Mom because I want you to.”

Nod.

“My wants are more important than yours.”

Nod.

“My wants are more important than Mom’s.”

Nod.

“My wants are all that matters, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because pleasing you turns me on.”

“Any other reason?”

“Because…I don’t want to displease you.”

I smiled.

### Session C23:

“What did you dream about last night, Richard?”

“Marcie.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was taking her.”

“How?”

“I was on top of her.”

“While she slept?”

“No.”

“So she was awake?”

“Yes.”

“Was she enjoying it?”

“Yes.”

“Was she happy?”

“Yes.”

“Were you happy?”

“…yes.”

### Session C25:

“If someone is dreaming of a happier life, should you wake them up or let them sleep?”

“That’s a classic moral dilemma,” Richard began, but I interrupted. I’d learned not to let him dwell on the theoretical, else he’d never reach a conclusion.

“What do _you_ think one should do?”

There was a long pause as he considered the options. I was starting to get used to this.

Hypnotizing Mom or Lucy had always been more fun. I’m a straight guy, so seeing a busty woman glassy-eyed is much more interesting than a 45-year old male professor.

Since my family members had stopped wearing clothes, even in the longest pause I had something _very_ pleasurable to look at.

Richard, by comparison, was the proverbial drying paint. But I remembered why I was doing this, and struggled through.

“I’d let them sleep,” he finally answered.

I breathed a sigh of relief. He’d landed on the side of the dilemma I’d been hoping for.

If I’d done my research right, this was going to make things a whole lot easier.

### Session 45:

“You’re going to fuck Mom.”

Nod.

“You’re going to fuck her for my pleasure.”

Nod.

“My pleasure is more important than yours.”

Nod.

“My pleasure is more important than anything.”

Nod.

“What’s the most sexual thing you’d do with Mom?”

“I’d fuck her in the ass with a huge strap-on,” Lucy replied without hesitation.

Wow. Apparently she’d thought this through. Before I could reply, she continued.

“I’d tie her up and fill all her holes. I’d film her being completely subjugated. If you told me to, I’d share it with the world.”

“That’s enough,” I said. I had no idea where any of that had come from.

It always surprised me when Lucy’s imagination was, somehow, even _darker_ than my own.

### Session C25:

“Why would you let them sleep?”

“Because it harms no one, and they’d be happier.”

“Do you think society agrees with you?”

“That’s a complicated question,” Richard began. Again, I cut him off.

“If you had to boil it down to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer?”

“No,” he said, after a long pause.

“So,” I asked cautiously, “you are okay with doing things that society doesn’t agree with.”

“Of course,” he answered. “Everyone is.”

“Specifically,” I continued, “you’re okay with doing things that society doesn’t agree with…if they result in net happiness, and don’t harm anyone.”

He took a deep breath, and I jumped in before he could begin to pontificate.

“Yes or no?”

Again, there was a long pause.

“Yes.”

### Session 45:

I couldn’t help myself.

“What’s,” I asked my sister, “the most sexual thing you’d do with me?”

“I’d…I’d…”

I watched my sister for a few moments. For the first time in a long while, I was actually concerned for her. She seemed to be spluttering slightly, as though she wanted to list a thousand things at once and didn’t have the mouth-space to do so.

“Never mind,” I said, and waited for her to calm down.

When I felt like she was sufficiently relaxed, I continued.

“What would you do if you found me getting head from Mom?”

“I’d make sure not to interrupt.”

“Would you be offended or jealous?”

“No.”

“How would you feel?”

“Turned on.”

“What would you do if you found me fucking Mom?”

“I’d make sure not to interrupt.”

“How would you feel?”

“Turned on. Awed. Submissive.”

“Do you want me to fuck Mom?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“More than anything.”

### Session C25:

“If something gave you pleasure, and gave someone else pleasure, and caused no harm, would you see that as morally right?”

“Yes,” Richard answered, without hesitation.

“What if society thought it was morally wrong?”

“Even then.”

I took a deep breath.

This was the moment.

“Richard,” I said slowly. “Do you think it would be morally wrong to fuck your daughter?”

### Session B58:

Lucy had managed to get us an hour alone with Marcie. Ever since her mother had left, her father had been much more relaxed about our visits. Honestly, I think it was the only time that he got a break.

He knew. He must know, right?

If your daughter cums just from putting a spoon in her mouth, you must know that leaving a teenage boy alone with her is going to…

Well, not alone. I suppose he saw me _and_ Lucy coming in, and figured it was safe.

After all, who’s going to do anything sexual while their sister is in the room?

### Session C26:

He didn’t answer.

I waited more than ten minutes—it was clear that he wasn’t going to wake up. I thought he was thinking it over, but after a while, it became clear that he simply…wasn’t answering.

Lucy was in the other room. Richard hadn’t questioned what they did in there; as far as he was concerned, any visitor for his daughter was better than her sitting alone in a room, staring dead-eyed at the wall.

“Richard? Richard, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it would be morally wrong to fuck your daughter?”

Again, nothing but silence.

It had been surprisingly easy to talk Richard into hypnosis. The first time I put him under, I’d made sure that he didn’t suspect hypnosis had anything to do with his daughter’s condition.

He didn’t.

We came over about once a week. I’d hypnotize Richard, Lucy would fuck Marcie in the other room.

“Hypothetical.”

He nodded.

“Someone’s daughter is in a catatonic state. She only responds positively to sexual stimulus.”

Nod. I’d learned pretty early on that Richard was much more receptive to ten-dollar words.

Professor.

“He is sexually attracted to her.”

Nod.

“He has no other sexual outlet, and sexual contact with her would do her no harm.”

Nod.

“Do you believe it would be morally wrong for him to have sexual contact with her?”

Again, silence. The faint tone of my sister’s orgasm could be heard from the adjacent room.

That wasn’t my idea, I should say. No, Lucy insisted on having sex with Marcie every time we visited. She insisted that it helped.

It was hard to argue that it didn’t.

“Okay,” I said, after the pause had stretched on long enough for Lucy to cum several times. “New hypothetical.”

I wasn’t really sure what to make of these pauses.

“Someone’s daughter is in a catatonic state, and she only responds positively to live music.”

Nod.

“Her father cannot afford an instrument. Is it morally wrong for him to steal one?”

“No.”

Zero hesitation.

“He can’t play any instruments. Is it morally wrong for him to kidnap a musician?”

“Yes.”

“Is it morally wrong for him to steal money to _pay_ for a musician?”

“No.”

I sighed.

Sometimes, when I hit a wall, I’d leave Richard under for a while and go join Lucy and Marcie. It was sort of helpful, in a weird way. Like, yes, I was being flagrantly reminded of what I’d done (and to who), but…well, watching my sister and her best friend make out over my cock…

…I’m sure I don’t have to explain why _that_ felt good.

I’d come back, and almost always hit some kind of breakthrough. Clears the head, y’know?

Today, I didn’t want to stop. I was close. I could feel it.

“New hypothetical: a man’s daughter is in a catatonic state, and she only responds positively to massage.”

Nod.

“Is it morally wrong for him to massage his daughter?”

“No.”

“If he’s attracted to her, is it morally wrong for him to get pleasure from the massage?”

“…no.”

It was a small step, but it was in the right direction.

“New hypothetical: your daughter is in a catatonic state, and she only responds to sexual stimulus.”

Nod.

“You’re attracted to her.”

Nod.

“If you fuck her, she’ll get pleasure from it and you’ll get pleasure from it.”

Nod.

“No one will be harmed, as long as you’re careful not to get caught.”

Nod.

“You fuck her.”

Pause.

Pause.

Pause.

Nod.

### Session 45:

“If I needed your help to fuck Mom, what would you do?”

“Anything.”

“If I needed to fuck you in order to fuck Mom, would you do it?”

“I…I…”

For the first time in a long time, I was surprised by the sight of my sister gradually waking up, blinking slowly as she looked around.

“What were we talking about?” she asked, no trace of a monotone.

I just smiled.

Interesting.

### Session C26:

Believe me when I say, this wasn’t my first idea.

Just because I’m into incest doesn’t mean I think everyone is, or even should be.

But I’d spent weeks trying different thing, trying to fix Marcie.

After days of research, and hours of trying to put her under, I’d finally accepted it…

Marcie was gone.

Marcie was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

When I was a kid, I’d had a pet hamster. “Radish”, I’d called him. (Like, “sort of rad”. It was a pretty decent pun for a kid.)

I won’t go into the why or how, but after a trip to visit my classroom, poor Radish had been stepped on. I’d begged and pleaded with Mom to let me keep him, to look after him like I used to, but she’d told me that I couldn’t, that he was suffering, and that the kindest thing we could do for him was end that suffering.

Maybe Marcie was suffering, maybe she wasn’t, but if I knew _anything_ , I knew that she was happiest when she was being sexually stimulated.

Her entire self would light up. It was the only way to even get a glimpse of the old Marcie, before…

Before I’d taken her to the classroom and she’d been stepped on.

I couldn’t bring her back to the person she was before, but I could reduce her suffering.

And even if I wasn’t sure about Marcie, I _knew_ her father was unhappy. It was obvious from the way he moved, the way he spoke.

I couldn’t bring his daughter back…but I could at least make his relationship with her a positive one.

“You feel guilty about fucking her.”

Nod.

I could get him to start taking care of her needs (and everyone knew that _she’d_ take care of _his_ ).

Now all I needed to do was prevent him from feeling guilty about it.


	Chapter 9

As soon as she got home each day, Mom would strip down to her panties.

That was just the beginning.

Lucy would often be waiting at the door for our mother. She’d throw her against the wall and passionately make out with her.

Mom would reciprocate, of course—if she didn’t, she’d risk talking about sex, and she could _never_ do that. No, far better to make out with her teenage daughter than risk revealing what an absolute pervert she was.

I’d sometimes stand there and watch as my busty family members kissed, their hands roaming around each other’s bodies. Lucy would reach down to find Mom soaking wet; she’d push her panties to the side, and finger fuck her right there in the hallway.

There are few hotter sights than your mother’s knees buckling as she cums around your sister’s hand.

Dazed, Mom would often be dragged into the living-room. Lucy would push her down onto the couch, grab her long hair, and force her mouth to my cock. As my mother fellated me, that stunned look on her face, Lucy would spread Mom’s legs and go down on her.

I could see Mom’s eyes, silently pleading. Was she pleading for us to stop, or was she pleading for more?

I would never know, because she’d never talk about it.

Mom came almost as easily as Lucy—she’d get off several times by her own daughter’s tongue, and then again as I unloaded down her throat. It was so hot, knowing that these images, these sensations, these experiences would be running through Mom’s head on loop all night and all day…until the events of the next evening replaced them.

She was starting to become more lust than woman.

Sometimes Mom would sit back and watch as it was Lucy’s turn to get me off. Lucy would pinch her nipples and beg me to treat her like the filthy slut we both knew she was.

Mom would never play with herself, though I knew she wanted to. Her fingers would twitch, as though all she wanted was to reach down and stroke her clit, get herself off again.

If I wasn’t in the mood, Lucy would instead bring out some toys, and spend the evening using them on our mother. I lost track of the number of times I’d watched Lucy fuck Mom with a huge strap-on, or handcuff her to the furniture as she used nipple clamps and a particularly strong vibrator.

Mom would twitch in orgasm, cumming and cumming again, never able to articulate her desires. Lucy and I would use our mother as a pliable sex-toy until it was time for bed, when we’d finally give her a break, and let her go into her room to get herself off once or twice before bed.

On mornings when I woke up early enough, I’d make my way into Mom’s room and stick my erection into her sleeping mouth. She’d wake up, wide-eyed, and began fellating me.

Her morning blowjobs were always the most enthusiastic. I was never able to work out why.

Sometimes I’d come in to find my sister had beaten me to it—I’d stand in the doorway and watch as Mom grasped my sister’s perfect ass, her tongue deep inside Lucy’s wet cunt, the two of them writhing in pleasure, oblivious to my presence.

Mom was ours; a completely obedient, submissive toy, existing only for her children’s pleasure. Every moment she was at home, she was almost-naked, sweaty, and available for our use.

She was nothing more than a piece of property.

And since Lucy was mine as well, that meant they both were.

My life was insanely close to perfect…and I knew exactly how to get it the rest of the way.

### Session C27:

“When did you last cum?”

“Seven weeks ago.”

I didn’t even have to lead into it with a hypothetical this time. Maybe Richard had inferred the survey, the lead-up questions…or maybe he was just so worked up, he _wanted_ to share how long it had been.

### Session 46:

“Have you enjoyed the last week?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Even through my sister’s monotone, the strength of her response was obvious.

“What would make it even better?”

“If you fucked our mother.”

“What else?”

“If you fucked me.”

I smiled. Perfect.

“Aside from letting me fuck you, is there anything you would refuse me?”

“No.”

“If I told you to do something, even if it was incredibly difficult, would you do it?”

“Yes.”

“If you weren’t able to, would you lie to me?”

“No. I would never lie to you.”

“Good girl,” I said, and woke her up.

### Session 47:

“Have you enjoyed the last week?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“What would make it even better?”

“If I could cum.”

After waking my sister up, I’d given her some clear instructions. I’d told her that I was jealous that our mother got to fuck her, but I didn’t. I told her that I wanted nothing more than to cum inside her, but that I wasn’t going to order her to fuck me.

That would be wrong.

She looked devastated, but…well, after seeing our mother sobbingly think that the ‘burglar’ incident was her fault, this was nothing. I stayed strong, and after a few minutes, my sister just nodded.

And then I’d told her—until I fucked either her or our mother, I wasn’t going to cum.

She looked horrified.

That’s when I dropped the bombshell: until I came, she couldn’t either.

My sister, as I’ve mentioned, cums _really_ easily. Like, it’s great. It’s truly delightful—you stick a cock anywhere near her, and she’s halfway there. You rub her clit (or, depending on how worked up she is, just her nipples) and she goes off like a firecracker.

She always was verging on ‘goddess of sex’; and this fun feature absolutely tipped her over the edge.

To her credit, she’d obeyed.

In the six and a half days since I’d ordered her not to cum, she—to the best of my knowledge—had abstained.

It’s not like we hadn’t been doing anything sexual, either. I’d spent half the week with my cock down her throat, or my fingers in her pussy, or lightly jacking off while watching her work out her frustration on Mom’s enormous tits. The three of us had been fooling around just as we had the week before, but with one key difference:

Lucy had neither cum nor made me cum.

The plan, of course, was to get her so worked up that she would _beg_ me to fuck her, or to fuck Mom. I wanted her to be climbing the walls with frustration—I’d given her a taste of heaven, and then taken it away from her.

And again, to her credit…so far, she’d resisted.

Admiring someone’s moral strength might seem a little strange, considering it was the only thing standing between my cock and my sister’s wet pussy, but…well, it was hard not to be impressed.

I firmly believe that my sister was _born_ to be a slut. Her body, her hair-trigger orgasm, her insatiable submission…it had been a lot of work (and I mean a _lot_ of work) to get her here, but once she’d entered the realm of full-time sister-slut, she’d taken to it like a fish to water.

She’d never once complained of having a sore jaw, or needing a break, or ‘having a headache’. Once she’d started being my on-demand sexual toy, she’d been the best slut a brother could ask for.

Except, of course…that she wouldn’t let me fuck her.

“Hypothetical,” I said. “I ask you if you have any requests.”

Nod.

“What do you ask for?”

“I ask if I can cum.”

“How do you ask?”

“Please,” my sister begged. “Please please please please please please please.”

“‘I tell you ‘no’. What do you say?”

“ _Please_ …”

“I say no, not until I do. What do you say?”

“Oh god, please. I’ll do anything!”

I smiled.

“Would you let me fuck you?”

There was a hopeful pause, followed by a confident “No.”

God damn it, Lucy.

I knew how hard it had been for her. She’d asked me to tie her to the bedpost as she slept, just so that she wouldn’t accidentally touch herself overnight and disobey me.

I’d obliged, of course. I’d do most anything for my sister.

That, and it made it _far_ easier to sneak into my mother’s room and fuck her.

### Session A183:

“You’re just a sex toy for your children.”

Nod.

“Every day and every night, they use you however they please.”

Nod.

“It’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced.”

Nod.

“You love your life.”

Nod.

“You love being a full-time fucktoy.”

Nod.

“You’d do anything your children wanted you to.”

Nod.

“If your son wanted to fuck you, you’d let him.”

Nod.

My mouth was open, ready for the next statement, but Mom’s response gave me pause.

Wait. Was…was it that easy?

“If your son wanted to spread your legs, right now, and slide his cock into you, you’d let him.”

Nod.

“You’d enjoy the experience.”

Nod.

“You’d get off as he did.”

Nod.

“Hypothetical: your son comes into your room while you’re sleeping.”

Nod.

“Instead of sticking his cock into your mouth, he sticks it into your pussy.”

Nod.

“You love it.”

Nod.

My mouth fell open and I sat back, my head spinning.

I…

I’d grown so accustomed to my sister’s resistance, I hadn’t even considered where my mother was at.

As far as she was concerned, Lucy and I had fucked. She found it hot—the hottest thing she’d ever heard of.

We’d been using her for our pleasure for a little over a week now, and she hadn’t objected to anything—she had no limits.

No limits.

Unlike Lucy, she didn’t have this weird dichotomy of ‘incest’ vs ‘not incest’. As far as she was concerned, it was _all_ incest…

And that was why she loved it.

For the first time since I’d started hypnotizing my family, my mother was actually giving me _less_ resistance than my sister.

To be safe, I spent twenty minutes running through different scenarios. I checked that it wouldn’t cause her to freak out, or break like Marcie had, or feel the need to suddenly tell Lucy.

Nope. As far as my mother was concerned, fucking her was just a part of the fucked-up world she was already living in.

It took me about a minute to realize that I was still staring at my mother, instead of doing what I’d dreamed of doing for years.

“Spread your legs,” I breathlessly commanded.

She obeyed.

“Make sure you’re nice and wet for me,” I whispered.

She obeyed.

“Grab…”

I swallowed. My throat was suddenly incredibly dry.

“Grab…grab my cock.”

My mother obeyed.

“Move it between your legs.”

She obeyed.

I leaned forward. My mouth was inches from my mother’s.

I kissed her.

She kissed me back.

“Move your panties aside,” I rasped.

She obeyed.

“Move…”

I stared into my mother’s blank eyes.

Was I really going to do this?

“Move me inside of you,” I ordered softly.

She obeyed.

### Session 47:

It wasn’t easy, timing trysts with my mother to avoid getting caught. It got a whole lot easier when Lucy asked me to start tying her to the bed at night—suddenly, I had eight or more hours in which I could fuck my mother, as loudly and enthusiastically as I wanted.

It.

Was.

Amazing.

I’d thought fucking Marcie was nice. Well, no, fucking Marcie _was_ nice.

Fucking Mom?

Fucking Ma was _heavenly_.

No matter what Lucy and I had done to our mother, she’d remained mostly silent. When my cock was pounding in and out of her, it was a whole other world. The moans, pants, and sometimes _squeaks_ that came out of my sexy mother…jesus helling fuck. The sounds alone would have been enough to get me off.

Combined with the warmth, the rhythmic tightening, the feeling of her dark thatch of hair…

I’d spent _years_ jerking off to the idea of it, and it still managed to exceed my every expectation.

She seemed to cum with almost every thrust, and when I unloaded inside of her…

I had to forbid Lucy from going down on my Mom of a morning, to ensure she didn’t recognize the taste. After cumming inside my mother, I’d fall asleep on her ample bosom, and often wake up in the middle of the night to discover I was inside her again. Was it Mom, slipping me inside her as we slept, or was my subconscious aware of the golden opportunity in front of me, and ensuring that I took advantage?

Maybe Mom knew, but she certainly wasn’t going to talk about it.

Unloading into my mother several times a night made not cumming while Lucy expertly fellated me much, much easier. And so while Lucy was climbing the wall with frustration, I…

I can honestly say, I was the most sexually satisfied I’d ever been in my life.

Still, I had to admit, I’d missed the feeling of cumming down my sister’s throat.

“Blow me,” I ordered with a grin. My smile broadened at the speed with which my entranced sister dropped to her knees and got me off.

As I came inside her mouth, I could see her twitching, wanting nothing more than to reach her own orgasm.

“Sit up,” I ordered. She leaned in to kiss me (unusual, while she was tranced—I can only assume it was due to her extreme arousal) but I pushed her away.

Some guys think it’s hot, making out with a girl who’s just swallowed their cum, but I’m not really into it.

Maybe if she was sharing it with Marcie…or Mom. That was something I could get behind.

“Not now, Luce.” I said, running my hands down her naked body. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

She just moaned in response as I slipped two fingers into her slick pussy. It was always wet, these days, and I was knuckle-deep almost instantly.

“Now,” I said, enjoying her short yelp as I spanked her. “You want this to continue, don’t you?”

Lucy nodded. Her whole body twitched slightly, and as I moved my fingers in and out, she shuddered with delight.

“You want me to fuck you, won’t you Lucy?”

She nodded, twitched, and shuddered.

“This can only continue if I fuck you, can’t it?”

She nodded. I could feel her sopping wet cunt spasming around my fingers.

“You’ll want me to fuck you, don’t you Lucy?”

Nod. Twitch. Shudder.

“You want to feel my cock inside you, don’t you?”

Nod. Twitch. Shudder.

“Do you play with yourself at night imagining me fucking you?”

Nod. Shudder.

“Are you looking forward to me cumming inside you?”

Nod. Twitch. Shudder.

“What would you say if I asked you to fuck me?”

Twitch. Twitch. Shudder.

No nod…but no resistance, either.

I pushed my luck, sliding my fingers in and out of my sister as I did.

“Lucy? What would you say if I asked you to fuck me?”

To my horror, a series of short pants and moans were the only response. My sister came, her tits bouncing and her cunt clenching repeatedly around my fingers.

God _damn_ it, Lucy.

### Session A184:

“You love fucking your son.”

Nod.

“It’s the single most satisfying thing you’ve ever done.”

Nod.

“It’s made you feel complete.”

Nod.

“It’s made you feel more like a woman than you ever have before.”

Nod.

“You love it.”

Nod.

“You love it more than anything.”

Nod.

“It’s the best thing you’ve ever done.”

Nod.

I don’t know that Mom would normally have agreed to that, but with my cock pounding in and out of her, she was likely struggling to think of anything that topped the feeling.

“You feel complete.”

Nod.

“Fucking your son completes you.”

Nod.

“If fucking your son completes you, it must be why you exist.”

This one did give her slight pause, but as soon as I slowed down, she nodded.

Basic Pavlovian conditioning. Fuck her harder when she says something I like, slow down when she hesitates.

“You exist to fuck your son.”

Nod.

“You exist for your son to fuck you.”

Nod.

“Your purpose in life is to be fucked by your son.”

Nod.

“Say it.”

To my surprise, my mother obeyed.

“My…purpose…in…life…is…to…be…fucked…by…my…son.”

I groaned with pleasure.

I had achieved everything I wanted to with my mother. This? This was just for fun.

“You will always cum when your son does.”

Nod.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I unloaded inside my mother. Nothing had ever felt this good.

I couldn’t wait to see how my sister compared.

### Session 48:

“Have you enjoyed the last two weeks?”

“Yes.”

This time, there was a slight hesitance to my sister’s voice.

Good.

“What would make it even better?”

“If I could _cum_.”

The attitude in my sister’s voice broke through the monotone. I hadn’t heard her this whiney since we were kids, and Mom had refused to buy her the Lego set she’d wanted.

“You want to cum?”

“ _Yes_. Please, yes.”

After our last session, I’d woken my sister up and hoped that she wouldn’t remember cumming.

Consciously, I don’t think she did, but…well, her entire vibe was completely different. Before I’d put her under, she’d been highly-strung. On edge.

After waking her up, she was much calmer, much more relaxed.

And so, with a sigh, I’d repeated the order—she couldn’t cum until I did—and emphasized that I was _not_ to be disobeyed.

This time, I’d waited two weeks. After all, with my mother’s hungry pussy at my beck and call, I was in no rush.

By the end of the second week, my sister was _worked up_. She wanted to be submissive and obedient, I could tell…but instead, she was tense. Irate.

Snappy.

She wanted to cum. She wanted to cum more than anything…I hoped.

I’d feigned frustration, trying to ensure that it wasn’t too obvious what Mom and I were up to. My sister, as far as I could tell, had believed me.

Still, no harm in checking.

“Do you think I’ve cum in the last three weeks?”

“No.”

“Why do you think I’m so much less worked up than you are?”

“Because you’re better than I am.”

“Oh?”

My sister didn’t respond. Even in her relaxed trance state, I could still feel her frustration.

“How so?”

“You are more in control than I am.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re…”

She hesitated. I sighed.

“Spit it out.”

“You’re a sexual god.”

Couldn’t help but smile at that one.

“What would you do in order to cum?”

“ _Anything_ ,” my sister said, emphasizing all three syllables.

“Will you obey my every command?”

“Yes.”

It was time.

I had to be careful, but it was time.

“Hypothetical. I hypnotize you.”

Nod.

“Neither of us have cum in three weeks.”

Nod.

“You tell me you’ll do anything if I let you cum.”

Nod.

“I tell you to let me fuck you.”

Shake.

_Fuck._

“I tell you to tell me to fuck Mom.”

Shake.

“You know that I won’t let either of us cum until I fuck you or Mom.”

Nod.

“You want me to fuck you or Mom.”

Nod.

So…why?

_Why?_

God fucking damn it, Lucy, _WHY_??

I took a deep breath. Now we were _both_ frustrated.

“Why,” I said slowly, trying to remain calm, “won’t you tell me to fuck Mom.”

“Because it would be selfish.”

I took another deep breath.

“What does that mean?”

“If you fucked Mom, that would be incest. That would be wrong.”

“But you want me to.”

“Yes.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“I can’t make you and Mom do something wrong for my own benefit. That would be selfish.”

“But…”

Yet another deep, calming breath.

“But you know I want to as well.”

“Yes. But I can’t make you do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be wrong.”

I threw my hands up in the air. I was on the verge of waking Lucy up, telling her I was fucking Mom, and that she could either get onboard or she could fuck off.

Our mother was, after all, serving my every sexual need. Lucy, despite my best efforts, was _not_. What did I need her for? I had Mom. I could…

I shut my eyes and slowly counted to thirty. When I reopened them, I saw my sister—my sexy, hypnotized, naked, obedient, submissive sister sitting in front of me. Her blonde hair was down. It ran down her back—she’d positioned it that way so it wouldn’t block my view of her perfect tits.

She loved me. She would do _anything_ for me.

Almost.

For the fourth time that night, I took a long, deep breath.

She just wanted what was best for me. I couldn’t get mad at her for that.

It was the last limit. I’d been dancing around it for months. Months which felt like years.

If I could get through this limit, that was it. I’d have everything. Everything I’d ever, ever wanted.

I’d managed to move every other limit. It had taken time, effort, and—above all—patience, but they’d all been moved.

I could move this one as well. I knew it.

### Session 43:

“What would really show you how powerful I am?”

“If…”

There was a long pause, as Lucy mustered up the courage to answer.

“If you fucked me.”

### Session B124:

“Marcie,” I said softly. “Marcie, can you hear me?”

No response.

“Marcie, next time we come into the room, I want you to take your top off.”

Marcie stood up, and began taking her top off. I rolled my eyes, and gestured for my sister to redress her friend.

Lucy hadn’t cum for nearly 17 days, and just the sight of Marcie’s perky tits coming into view was causing her to go glassy-eyed.

“Don’t cum,” I said softly, and Lucy nodded obediently.

To my surprise, Marcie’s selective hearing came into play once more, and the girl who had taken my virginity wailed in orgasm.

Fortunately, her father was deep in trance, repeating instructions in the next room.

### Session 43:

“If I fucked Mom, would you fuck me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d be so powerful.”

“So?”

“So you’d be too powerful to resist.”

### Session 48:

“Committing incest is wrong, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If I made Mom commit incest, that would show you exactly how powerful I was, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If I made you commit incest, that would show you exactly how powerful I was.”

“Yes.”

“How could I make you commit incest?”

“You could hypnotize me into doing it.”

“How could I make Mom commit incest?”

“You could hypnotize her into doing it.”

“If I hypnotized you or Mom into committing incest, you’d believe I was all-powerful, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

I paused. Lucy’s breathing had gotten faster, just at the thought of my power. I didn’t want to do anything that would push her over the edge and risk making her cum.

After her breathing slowed, I continue.

“If I hypnotized someone into committing incest, would you be able to resist me?”

“No.”

“You’d have to do whatever I said, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you would have complete control of me.”

“Do I have complete control of me now?”

“Almost.”

“How could I get complete control of you?”

“By showing me how powerful you are.”

Lucy has had boyfriends before. No one particularly notable, but she’s dated in the past.

I wonder how much of this weird obsession with ‘power’ is something that I inadvertently implanted, and how much of it is just…her?

Did she have her boyfriends start fights, to show off for her? Did she have them dominate her?

If I’d asked her, she’d definitely tell me, but…

I don’t think I wanted to know.

“If you saw me make someone commit incest, you’d let me fuck you.”

Nod.

“Hypothetical: I hypnotize you.”

Nod. We’d been down this road before, but there was no harm in checking.

“While you’re under, I make you fuck me.”

Shake.

“New hypothetical: I hypnotize Mom.”

Nod.

“While she’s under, I make her fuck me.”

Shake.

“Why don’t you believe that would happen?”

I was asking more out of frustration than anything, but my sister still answered.

“Because it would be selfish.”

“You don’t believe I would do something selfish?”

“Not that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be wrong.”

My eyes widened, and I sat up straight.

I had an idea.

### Session B125:

“Take your skirt off.”

Marcie obeyed. She stood in front of us, naked.

Her shirt was already off.

Hypnosis isn’t like it is in the movies. You can’t just give someone a command, and have them carry it out. ‘Cluck like a chicken when you hear the number five’—stuff like that, it doesn’t work.

You can learn more about someone, you can subtly shift their world-view, their morals, their limits. You can affect their dreams, and you can alter their memories.

But I couldn’t just say ‘Hey, Lucy, every time you hear a dog bark, you’re going to come into my room and suck me off.’

I mean…I probably _could_ , but she wouldn’t obey because she was hypnotized. She’d obey because she’d take any excuse to come into my room and suck me off.

In Marcie’s new state, however…none of the rules applied.

Last time we’d visited, I’d told her to take off her top when we entered. Sure enough, as soon as Lucy and I had walked in, she’d stripped.

Thank god we’d entered the room alone.

### Session 48:

“Hypnosis turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because when I’m hynotized, I give up control.”

“Why do you like giving up control?”

“Because it turns me on.”

“Why does it turn you on?”

Lucy reflected on that one for a while.

“I like being dominated. I like being under the thrall of someone more powerful than me. I like giving myself over to someone else.”

“Why do you like visiting Marcie?”

“I think it’s good for her.”

That was very sweet, but not the answer I was looking for.

“Does it turn you on?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It reminds me of how strong your will is. The fact that you broke her, it…”

Lucy’s monotone quivered slightly.

“It’s so hot.”

“What would you think if I broke Mom like that?”

“I’d be horrified.”

“Would you be turned on?”

“Yes.”

I had no plans to break Mom. I had no plans to break anyone, ever again. It ate me up inside, seeing what I’d turned Marcie into.

She’d once told me she wanted to be a vet. She wanted to make the world a better place, help sick and wounded animals. Heal them. Make them better.

Now, she was going to spend the rest of her life…

I sighed.

I’d do anything to avoid that happening again.

And I was going to do what I could to help Marcie. To help my sister’s friend.

…to help _my_ friend.

### Session C28:

“What did you dream about last night?”

“Marcie.”

“What about Marcie?”

“I dreamt that she was back to normal.”

A hint of a smile broke through Richard’s blank stare. I sort of wanted to hug him.

Instead, I pressed on.

“Did anything else happen in the dream?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me what?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because of her,” Richard said, gesturing to my sister.


	Chapter 10

### Session 48:

“What do you know about Marcie’s father?”

“He’s a professor. Spends a lot of time in his study. Looks sad, most of the time.”

“Has Marcie ever spoken much about him?”

“Yeah. She was pissed when he wouldn’t let her come to Spring Break.”

“Why do you think he wouldn’t let her?”

“I think he was just looking out for her.”

“Do you think he’s a good father?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Marcie told me. Not in those exact words, but I always got the sense he was a good guy.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, he’s looked after her ever since…you know.”

Lucy shivered with arousal, and I smiled.

I didn’t like what I’d done to Marcie, but I liked the effect it’d had on my sister. As far as she’d concerned, I’d broken Marcie just to demonstrate that I could…and it _really_ turned her on.

“Do you think he’s attracted to his daughter?”

“No.

“Not even a little?”

“Not even a little.”

“Do you think he’s ever been inappropriate towards her?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Marcie would have told me. Also, he’s never even checked me out.”

“So?”

“So if he was interested in people his daughter’s age, he would have.”

I nodded. My sister’s healthy ego at work, folks.

Not that she was wrong.

“So can you think of anything at all to suggest that he’s a bad father?”

“No.”

“Can you think of anything that indicates he wants to fuck his daughter?”

“No.”

“How would you react if I told you that he did?”

“I wouldn’t believe you. Not without proof.”

“You’re right,” I said with a smile. “He’s a good man.”

Nod.

“He’d never touch his daughter.”

Nod.

“He’d never even think of her in that light.”

Nod.

“So…what would you do if I hypnotized him and made him fuck his own daughter?”

Lucy’s blank eyes widened. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but nothing came out.

She began twitching.

For a moment, I was worried. My mind filled with images of Lucy breaking, ending up as blank and mindless as Marcie. I almost started to wake her up.

And then she began to moan, and I realized:

She was cumming.

Just the _suggestion_ that I could make Richard fuck his daughter…she couldn’t stop herself. She was cumming without even touching herself, ignoring my orders not to.

“God,” she finally gasped, as the aftershocks of her orgasm subsided. “Oh my god. Yes. Yes. Please.

“Please, Jack. Do it.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she replied in an aroused monotone, “if you can make Marcie’s Dad fuck her…you can do anything.”

### Session C28:

“If I asked you, would you tell me what you thought of my sister?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She’s sitting next to you. It would be rude.”

Lucy was watching, transfixed.

Aside from Marcie’s catatonic state, she’d never actually seen me put someone under before.

She loved it.

I could tell that she wanted to jump in, offer suggestions, but she’d been given very strict instructions not to speak. I had no idea what conflicting instructions would do to someone while they were under, and I had no intention of finding out.

### Session 48:

“Would it be selfish of me, to make Richard fuck his daughter?”

“No,” Lucy answered immediately. “It would be an act of kindness.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

She hesitated. I waited out the silence.

“It would be good for her. For him. For both of them.”

“Why would it be good for her?”

“She’s more herself when she’s being fucked.”

Interesting.

“You think that when I’m fucking Marcie, she’s…back to her old self?”

“Not only when you’re fucking her,” Lucy responded. “And no, not completely. But that’s when she’s closest.”

“How so?”

“She’s…fun.”

I started to ask a follow-up question, but cut myself off as I realized: Lucy was right.

Marcie wasn’t her old self. She’d never be herself again, far as I could tell.

But when she was being fucked, when she was cumming, whenever she was obeying sexual commands…

She was at least _someone_. And just like my sister said…you could see glimpses of the old Marcie.

Deliberately hearing only half of a sentence, or the way her teeth would nip at your lip when she was kissing you. It was like the old Marcie was back, just for a moment.

“Why is it good for him?”

“Because,” she said, a slight twinkle in her eye. “Marcie’s great in bed.”

“But she’s his daughter.”

“Yes,” Lucy said. “But she’s so fucking hot.”

“Don’t you think he’d feel guilty?”

“He looks like he already feels guilty. At least this way he’d be getting laid.”

I nodded.

“Hypothetical: I hypnotize Richard and make him fuck Marcie.”

I was fully prepared for Lucy to shake her head, to reject the idea outright.

Instead, she nodded.

“Your best friend fucks her father, and it’s all because of me.”

Nod.

“What would you do?”

“I’d get off thinking about it.”

“What else?”

“I’d get you off while I was thinking about it.”

“How?”

“With my mouth. With my hands.”

There was a pause, and Lucy’s mouth dropped slightly as she pieced it all together.

“…with my pussy.”

Her eyes shone, and I grinned at her.

“Would you fuck me?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

“You’d fuck me?”

“Yes.”

“You’d commit incest?”

“Yes.”

“You would let me fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Lucy said, her blank eyes boring into mine. “If you can do that to Marcie and her father, you’re too powerful to resist.”

### Session C29:

“If I asked you, would you tell me what you thought of Marcie?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Richard didn’t answer.

I sighed.

“If I asked you why you wouldn’t tell me what you thought of Marcie, would you tell me?”

“No.”

I considered going down the question-hole another level, just to show Lucy how much damn _work_ it could be, but I didn’t want to waste any time.

Not now that I knew what would happen when I succeeded.

“Would you tell me what you thought of your daughter’s tits?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me what you thought of your daughter’s mouth?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me what you thought of your daughter’s ass?”

“No.”

Lucy was squirming in her chair. I stopped teasing her, and continued a more serious line of questioning.

“If I asked you, would you tell me what you thought of me?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think of me?”

“I think you’re a bright young man, with a strong interest in science.”

Lucy shot me a quizzical look. I’d briefed her on some of the work I’d done with Richard, but I hadn’t gone into every detail.

“If I asked you what you thought of yourself, would you tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It would be too depressing.”

### Session 48:

It was tempting to wake Lucy up, then and there. Alter her memories, convince her that I _had_ hypnotized Richard to have sex with Marcie.

I could be balls-deep inside my sister within _minutes_. Something I’d been working towards for months, dreaming about for years…

It was within reach.

But I couldn’t. I needed to play it safe.

Besides, this was something I was actually planning on doing. For Marcie. To a lesser extent, for Richard.

Why lie, when I could just…do the thing?

With a sigh, I woke Lucy up, and explained my plan to her.

She almost came again just hearing about it.

### Session C30:

Lucy was in the other room with Marcie. Richard’s back was to the door, so he couldn’t see that it was ajar, had no idea that my sister was listening intently to everything we said.

When we’d arrived home the other night, she hadn’t let me touch her. She was so turned on, she was terrified of cumming accidentally.

“I can’t believe you’re doing it,” she’d said, awestruck. “I can’t believe you do that to me. To _Mom_.”

My sister isn’t stupid. A part of me was terrified that she’d work it out: that her desires, our entire sexual relationship, Mom’s position as the household fuckdoll…that all of it had started shortly after I began hypnotizing her.

Right now, not being allowed to cum was distracting her. While the two orgasms she’d had while tranced had helped, she was still quite frenzied. Too frenzied to piece it all together.

I hoped.

“What did you dream about last night, Richard?”

“Marcie.”

“What specifically?”

“She was on all fours, begging me to fuck her.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

There was a soft moan from the adjacent room. I hoped Richard would think it was his daughter, and pressed on.

“Would you fuck your daughter in real life?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’d be taking advantage of her.”

“How?”

“She’s sick. Something happened to her, and she’s in an incapacitated state. To take advantage of someone in that state is…it’s monstrous.”

“But you want to, don’t you?”

“No.”

“No part of you wants to?”

Silence.

“Do you think you’d be happier if you fucked Marcie?”

“That’s complicated.”

“On average, do you think you’d be more or less happy if you fucked Marcie?”

“More happy.”

“Do you think Marcie would be more or less happy if you fucked her?”

“More happy.”

“Why?”

“She seems happier when she’s…”

Richard trailed off. He’d tell me about his sexual, incestous dreams, but apparently describing Marcie’s real-life waking state was too much for him.

“Certain stimulus makes her happy.”

“What do you think my sister does in the other room, when she’s alone with Marcie?”

“I don’t know.”

“But what do you _think_?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t ever think about it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to know.”

### Session C31:

“Richard, what would you do if my sister told you what she does with Marcie?”

“I’d listen.”

“What if she told you that it’s sexual?”

“I’d be furious. I’d kick her out, and ban her from ever seeing my daughter again.”

My eyes widened. Lucy’s, too.

That wasn’t what we’d been expecting.

I shot her a look. Lucy nodded and stood up. She’d been sitting next to me, waiting for my order to go into explicit detail.

Instead, she slipped into the next room, shutting the door most of the way.

“Why would you be so mad?”

“Because your sister would be taking advantage of my daughter.”

“Do you think Marcie would enjoy it?”

“Yes, but that isn’t relevant.”

“Do you think the idea is sexy?”

“Yes. But that isn’t relevant.”

I paused.

When I’d discussed the plan with Lucy the previous night, it had seemed so flawless.

Although perhaps my sister’s lusty admiration had…maybe I’d gotten an overinflated sense of how effective it would be.

“Richard…”

No.

The more I thought about it, the more I was sure: my instinct had been right. It was a good plan.

It was a good plan, and it was going to work.

I just needed to come at it from a different angle.

I thought for a few more minutes, choosing my words carefully.

“How do you know my sister would be the one taking advantage?”

“Because my daughter is catatonic. It’s impossible to be sexual with her without taking advantage.”

“Why?”

“Because she can’t communicate what she wants. She can never take the lead.”

I smiled.

_That_ was something I could fix.

“Hypothetical: you have a dream about my sister and your daughter, naked, making love…”

### Session C32:

“How do you feel about my sister being alone in the room with your daughter?”

“Uncomfortable.”

“Have you ever felt uncomfortable about this before?”

“No.”

“But you do now?”

“Yes.”

“Are you worried that my sister is taking advantage of your daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to check for yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you?”

Richard didn’t answer.

“Hypothetical: my sister comes over without me.”

Nod.

“You hear a soft moan from the room they’re in.”

Nod.

“You notice they’ve left the door slightly ajar.”

Nod.

“You peek inside.”

Nod.

“My sister is making love to your daughter. What do you do?”

“I storm in there, wrench them apart, shout at Lucy, and forbid her from ever coming over again.”

Perfect.

“Okay, new hypothetical: my sister is over, and you peek inside to see what they’re doing.”

Nod.

“Lucy is sitting there while your daughter…”

I shifted forward slightly in my seat.

“Your daughter is trying to seduce her.

Richard sat and stared at me blankly.

“Marcie isn’t just sitting there. She’s trying to undress my sister, trying to make love to her.”

No reaction.

“Marcie is taking the lead.”

Nothing.

“Marcie is trying to seduce my sister. What do you do?”

There was a long silence, during which I really did hear a soft moaning sound coming from the next room.

Maybe that’s what triggered Richard’s response, or maybe he just needed processing time. In either case, he answered just a few moments after a second moan could be heard.

“I softly shut the door.”

“Do you tell my sister she can no longer come over?”

“…no.”

At long last, I was starting to feel like I’d mastered this.

### Session B131:

“Marcie, whenever Lucy says ‘daffodil’, you’re going to reach out and try to take off her top.”

Marcie, to no one’s surprise, didn’t respond.

I nodded to Lucy.

“‘Daffodil’.”

Marcie reached out, and tried to remove my sister’s top.

### Session A186:

“You’ve noticed that Lucy hasn’t cum recently.”

Nod.

“It worries you.”

Nod.

“If she doesn’t cum, she might end up like Marcie.”

Twitch. Nod.

“Next time you’re pleasuring her, you’re going to try twice as hard as you normally do.”

Nod.

“You don’t talk about sex, so you’re going to have to look after her in other ways.”

Nod.

The last two times I’d put Lucy under, she’d cum. Until my plan was complete, I was refraining from hypnotizing her. I wanted her to be as worked up as possible.

I was doing what I could to increase her frustration, but I figured there was no harm in getting Mom in on it as well.

Mom shook with pleasure as I pulsed inside her, my orgasm triggering her own.

“Good girl.”

She beamed in response.

### Session C33:

“Would you tell me what you saw for the last few weeks, when I wasn’t here?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not appropriate.”

“Would it be more appropriate if it was someone other than my sister?”

“…yes. But I still wouldn’t tell you.”

I nodded. It was all I could do to resist calling Richard a ‘good boy’.

The first week I wasn’t there, Marcie had attempt to seduce my sister. It hadn’t gone any further than that.

The second week, the two of them had made out for a few minutes. Again—Marcie had initiated the encounter.

I doubt Richard had noticed the very specific words my sister had spoken first.

Last week, Lucy had allowed Marcie to strip her. We weren’t sure exactly what Richard had seen, but my sister had told me he hadn’t been able to make eye-contact while she’d been saying goodbye.

It was as close as confirmation as we were going to get.

This week, I’d come along as well. Richard had looked disappointed to see me, but he’d enthusiastically accepted my offer to put him under.

I suspected the poor man had been fairly tense, as of late.

“Are you still going to let my sister visit Marcie?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because…it’s good for her.”

Jackpot.

“My sister’s visit is good for your daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It seems to be helping her improve. She’s more…herself…than I’ve seen her in months.”

“You don’t think my sister is a bad person?”

“No.”

“Do you think my sister should feel guilty?”

“No.”

“If Marcie behaved around you like she does with my sister, how would you feel?”

Richard was silent. I tried a different tack.

“If Marcie was more herself around you, even if she was doing things that society would frown upon, would you try to stop her?”

“…no.”

“Would you feel guilty?”

I hoped that Richard was picking up the implications of what I was saying. Getting any more specific might just make him shut down.

“No,” the older man finally said.

I took a deep breath.

“If Marcie started actively trying to seduce you, would you resist, or would you fuck her?”

Richard just stared at me silently.

Again, it was about as much confirmation as I could ever expect.

### Session C4:

“Would you tell me if you’ve ever been attracted to your daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever been attracted to your daughter?”

“No.”

### Session C21:

“Would you tell me if you’ve ever been attracted to your daughter?”

“No.”

### Session C34:

“Would you tell me if you’ve ever had sex with Marcie?”

Richard didn’t respond.

With a broad smile, I woke him up, and thanked him for having me over.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Richard said. He involuntarily glanced towards the room where my sister was still spending time with his daughter.

I could tell that he couldn’t wait for us to leave.

### Session 49:

When I put my sister under, I was nervous that she’d cum on the spot.

It had been almost a month since Lucy had orgasmed while under trance, and 6 weeks since she’d consciously cum.

For someone with my sister’s hair-trigger orgasms, it was pretty damned impressive.

“Take your top off,” I said, and she obeyed immediately. “Your skirt, too.”

On the drive home, Lucy had been wide-eyed, absolutely stunned.

She’d seen it. She’d seen the evidence.

Marcie had been fucked.

Recently.

Lucy couldn’t stop staring at me.

“I am all-powerful, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

My sister’s entire body was twitching. It was clear that she about to either cum, or have a total breakdown.

“You cannot resist me, can you?”

“No.”

Twitch, twitch.

“What will you do if I order you to do something?”

“I will obey.”

“What if you don’t want to?”

“I will obey.”

“What if you think that it’s wrong?”

“I will obey.”

I was hard as a rock.

“Say it again.”

“I will obey.”

I barely recognized my own voice. I felt…stronger.

More dominant.

“Again.”

“I will obey.”

“Is there anything I could order you to do that you would refuse?”

“No.”

“What is your purpose?”

“I was born to be your slave.”

“Say it again.”

“I was born to be your slave.”

“Good girl.”

Twitch, twitch, twitch.

“You were born to serve. Say it.”

“I was born to serve.”

“Again.”

“I was born to serve.”

I slipped two fingers inside my sister. She writhed at my touch, but didn’t cum.

After all, I’d ordered her not to.

She couldn’t disobey.

She couldn’t.

I spent a few moments, exploring every inch of her dripping wetness, as I had so many times before.

I could feel her arousal. I could feel her submission.

Lucy was mine. She belonged to me.

At long last, I was going to take my sister.

“If I tell you I want to fuck, what will you do?”

“I will fuck you.”

“If I tell you I want to fuck Mom, what will you do?”

“I will watch you fuck Mom.”

“You will do exactly as you’re told, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Who do you obey?”

“You.”

“Who were you born to serve?”

“You.”

“Good girl.”

She twitched.

“You exist for my pleasure. Say it.”

“I exist for your pleasure.”

“Again.”

“I exist for your pleasure.”

“Good girl.”

If my fingers hadn’t been deep inside her, I think she would have twitched right off the chair.

“I made you this way.”

My sister nodded.

“Say it.”

“You made me this way.”

She didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Stand up.”

She stood.

“Bend over.”

She bent.

Unzipping my pants, I moved behind her.

“I molded you into my perfect fucktoy.”

She nodded, a mix of fear, arousal, and utter obedience on her face.

“Say it,” I hissed.

“You molded me to be your perfect fucktoy.”

My cock could feel the heat of her pussy.

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“Yes,” she panted.

“Say it.”

“You’re going to fuck me.”

Her monotone was all but gone. Lucy hadn’t cum for weeks, and she’d just discovered the extent of my power.

She was pleading. Desperate.

“When I started hypnotizing you, you weren’t interested in incest.”

“No…” she panted, as I lined myself up with her entrance.

I pulled her hair, and she squealed.

“I changed you,” I said softly. “I made you mine.”

“Oh _god_.”

Lucy’s back arched as I slid inside her.

“Don’t cum,” I reminded her, and she nodded.

“Please,” she begged, speaking out of turn. I’d punish her for that later. “Please…”

“I changed your dreams,” I said, as she clenched and twitched around my cock. “I changed your memories. The way you dress, the way you think.”

“ _God_ …”

“I changed everything about you. I turned you into what you are now. My perfect whore. My obedient, submissive slave.”

She moaned, louder than I’d ever heard her moan.

“My sister slut.”

“No,” Lucy repeated, as I pounded into her, fucking my sister as hard as I could.

At last.

“Yes,” I insisted, grabbing her blonde hair and turning her to face me. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth open…and still her eyes were blank.

“I gave you your desires. I made you into this.”

“No…”

“Yes,” I said. “Believe it. That’s an order.”

Lucy’s blank eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“I believe it,” she gasped. I could tell that she was using all her willpower to fight off a powerful orgasm.

“How does it make you feel?”

Lucy was clearly having trouble breathing, trouble speaking. I kept a tight grip on her hair.

“Owned,” she finally panted. “Dominated. _Yours_.”

“Good girl,” I smiled, fucking her faster. “You are owned. You are dominated. You are mine.”

“Yes, sir…”

I leaned in and whispered directly into her ear.

“Cum for me.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir…”

### Session 50:

It was almost a year before I next hypnotized my sister.

There just wasn’t much need to, y’know?

I told her everything.

After waking her up, I told her everything. How much I’d always wanted her, how much I’d wanted Mom.

“Me too,” she’d said, and I’d laughed.

It had taken some time to explain to my sister exactly what I’d done to her, to Marcie.

To Mom.

I think it took her a few days to wrap her head around. A part of me was worried that she’d break, but…I dunno.

My sister’s strong. Stronger than I realized, I think.

She hadn’t broken when I’d told her under hypnosis, and she didn’t break when I told her in real life.

“I can’t believe it,” she’d said. She’d repeated that a lot. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” I’d grunt, enjoying the feeling of her cumming around my cock.

Oh, yeah. That was the other thing I did after waking her up that last time.

I fucked her again.

And again, and again, and again, and again.

If I had to summarize the year, “I fucked her again” would be a pretty accurate description.

Sex with Lucy was different to both Mom and Marcie, though it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what’s so different.

It was more…everything. Just _more_.

Lucy was always wet. Even when I woke her up in the middle of the night, she was soaked. Sometimes we’d fuck directly above Mom’s face, as her waiting mouth caught all all the drips of her daughter’s pussy.

I’d thought my sister’s tits bounced when she blew me, but they basically flew around the room when I fucked her. She was so vocal, so expressive, so…perfect.

She was perfect.

More than anything, I think it was her confidence.

Her confidence and her deference.

Knowing what had happened to her, knowing what I’d done to her…it changed Lucy.

She truly let go. She let herself sink, unrestrained, into submission. Into what I’d turned her into.

After she’d learned that I was responsible for everything—for her, for Mom, for Marcie—she really accepted her life’s purpose. To serve. To serve me. To pleasure me. Anything that didn’t bring me pleasure, she quickly decided, wasn’t worth her time.

I think she accepted it because…she couldn’t resist. She _couldn’t_ resist. She knew the truth: my words had turned her from a nice, normal sister, into someone who existed for exactly one reason: to get me off.

And she loved it.

I loved it too, of course. I guess that pretty much goes without saying.

When I fucked my sister, I could feel her manipulating every inch of her body for my pleasure. She never came until I did, using her orgasm to milk my every last drop of cum. When she was done, she’d use her tits to clean my cock, and then Mom’s tongue to clean her tits.

By the time everything was cleaned up, I was almost always ready for another round.

When she wasn’t serving me, she was fucking Mom. She was obsessed with it. She particularly liked watching Mom’s eyes—as I fucked her, as she pleasured Lucy, as she obeyed our every sexual command.

“She’s like a prisoner,” she once told me, awed. “Trapped in her own head.”

I squirmed a bit at the phrasing. I mean, I’d always tried to make sure that Mom had a good time.

“She knows how wrong it is, but she can’t stop. She gets off on it. It’s so fucking hot.”

After a while, I’d just pull her head to my lap when she started talking like that, shut her up with my cock. She knew what I was doing, but what could she do?

She couldn’t resist.

When Lucy wasn’t fucking me or Mom, she was visiting Marcie.

Only a few times a week, and only ever when Richard was at school. She said she ‘didn’t want to interrupt’. She felt like she owed them that.

“What for?” I’d asked, once.

“For bringing us together,” she’d said softly.

I didn’t go with her.

Seeing Marcie was…it was just …god.

It was just _sad_.

And so I stopped going.

Lucy would occasionally give me updates. Marcie was better than she’d been, my sister said. The constant sexual stimulation her father provided was helping…but I knew she’d never be who she’d once been.

I knew she’d always be broken.

Yeah, I left Marcie to her father and my sister. I’m glad she managed to find happiness, of a sort. I’m glad I managed to help, at least a little.

But I spent my days fucking two goddesses, both of whom were utterly devoted to serving my every whim. Why would I want to interrupt that with an reminder of my biggest failure?

Not for me, thanks.

“Lucy? Lucy, can you hear me?”

“Mmm?”

It had been Lucy’s idea.

Being hypnotized again, for the first time in a year. It was Lucy’s idea.

She’d wanted me to put her under just to check, to make sure that she was being as devoted a sex-slave as possible. She wanted me to make sure it wasn’t ‘wearing off’, and to check her consciousness, at every level, to make sure that she wasn’t holding back.

She wanted to make sure there were no limits that even _she_ wasn’t aware of, lurking beneath the surface.

I’d explained to her that hypnosis didn’t really work like that, but she was convinced I could do it.

Fair, I guess, under the circumstances.

“Besides,” she’d said. “Even if you don’t find any hidden limits, maybe you can…change me.”

Her breathing had quickened at the idea.

“Change you?”

“Yeah. Make me even _more_ dedicated to your every want. Please, Master?”

I’d agreed, of course. That was the dirty little secret to my relationship with my sister: _I_ couldn’t resist _her_.

And so I’d put her under.

“How do you feel?”

“ _Good,_ Master.”

“Good girl.”

Lucy twitched. I smiled.

“How do you feel about me?”

“You’re all-powerful, Master.”

“Good girl.”

Twitch. Shudder.

“Is there anything you would ever lie to me about?”

“No, Master.”

“Are you my servant?”

“Yes, Master. I am your devoted slave.”

“Will you ever lie to me?’

“I would never lie to you.”

“Good girl.”

Lucy moaned.

“Is there anything you’re hiding from me?”

“No, Master.”

“Is there anything I should know that I currently don’t?”

“No, Master.”

“Is there anything you could do to serve me better?”

“Yes, Master.”

Interesting. I tilted my head to the side.

“What is it?”

“I could bring you more, Master.”

“More what?”

“More women, Master. More women to serve you. More women like me, like Mom. More women like Marcie, for you to bend to your will. For you to break, if you choose.”

Lucy’s blank eyes were sparking, and her monotone grew more intense.

“You deserve an army, Master. An army of women to serve your every want. Every desire you have should be fulfilled before you’ve even finished thinking it. I know women, Master. Women who trust me. Beautiful, busty women. Cheerleaders. Lawyers. Athletes.”

“Lucy…”

My sister continued.

“Women who are better-looking than me, Master.”

“Impossible.”

She didn’t slow down, not even for a second.

“If you teach me how to hypnotize them, I can bring them to you. I can brainwash them, make them yours. A harem of women, Master. Hundreds of women, devoted to obeying your every command…”

“Lucy,” I said gently.

“We could teach _them_ to hypnotize others, Master. Towns of women. Countries. All yours. All for you…”

“ _Lucy_ ,” I said, more firmly. She fell quiet.

“Lucy, I don’t need anyone more. I have you and I have Mom. Our family. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. It’s all I need.”

It had been a long time since I’d needed to read the blank stare of a hypnotized woman, but I could tell—Lucy was disappointed.

“I adore you, sis. I think you’re a goddess. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. You’re the most wonderful woman in the world, and getting to have you is better than a hundred harems. I don’t care who your friends are; we don’t need them. You, me, and Mom—it’s all we need. Our life is perfect, and I’m happy. Truly I am.”

Lucy looked at me, the fires in her eyes slightly cooling.

We sat in silence for a minute.

“I’m not saying it’s not tempting,” I said, glancing over at the bed where Marcie had taken my virginity. “But…it’s too risky. It’s not worth it.”

Lucy nodded.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Master,” Lucy responded, and I drew her to me for a hug.

Even through her trance, her hand instinctively found my erection, and began softly stroking it through my pants.

“I don’t need a harem,” I repeated. “I have you.”

We stood there for a long while, hugging, before I pulled back and looked into her deep blue eyes.

“I love you,” I said, and I could see her mouth twitching. “Speak.”

“I love you, Master.”

I kissed her, my beautiful blank-eyed sister. She kissed me back, moaning as she did.

“Lucy,” I said, pulling back to look at her once more.

I’d never get sick of looking at her.

“Why did you ask me to put you under?”

“To suggest the harem,” Lucy replied immediately. “And…”

“What?”

“I missed it,” she admitted, after a brief pause. “I missed being hypnotized.”

I smiled at my sister, standing naked in front of me, wanting nothing more than to take over the world so I’d have more women to play with.

“Lucy…”

“Yes, Master?”

“…did you say one of these women was a cheerleader?”

“Yes, Master.”

There was a long pause.

“Look,” I said, breaking the silence. “We’ll have to be _really_ careful…”

“Of course,” Lucy grinned. “Of course, Master.”

### The End.

Thanks to everyone who has supported me throughout the 6 and a half years (!!!) that I’ve been working on the Limits saga, especially those on [my Patreon](https://patreon.com/panwhowrites).


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