This is a sequel to Limits
More Limits
Chapter 1:
Lick. Lick. Lick.
I smiled as I glanced down at my sister, who was dutifully on her knees, licking my cock. For whatever reason, actually taking my cock into her mouth crossed the line…but she was fine with licking it.
The sight alone would probably have been enough to get me off, but the feeling of her soft, wet tongue moving up and down my shaft, the way she swirled it around my head and stimulated the little spot right between the base and the head…
“Now,” I moaned, and she looked up at me with a smile, opening her mouth and catching my cum.
“Thank you,” she said softly after swallowing my load, and I nodded before putting my cock away, handing her some water (to wash the taste out of her mouth) and waking her up.
Session 23:
You would think that finally getting to live out my fantasy, finally getting to cum on my sister’s tits—not in a hypothetical, not in the abstract, but actually doing it—you’d think that would have been enough to satiate me for a while.
But it just made me hungry for more.
Don’t get me wrong, cumming on Lucy’s huge, soft boobs was a dream come true. I loved every second of it, and couldn’t wait until we could repeat the experience, but I wanted more. I wanted to fuck them. I wanted to fuck her—her face, her pussy, her ass. I wanted to turn my sister into my own personal sex slave, wet and willing to do anything I asked.
And, more and more, I was starting to believe that it was achievable. I’d already come so far…in just 22 sessions I’d convinced my sister to talk to me while I jerked off, to masturbate in front of me as I did the same, and I’d even started to control her dreams and sexual fantasies. I’d seduced her best friend, and I had managed to plant memories in my sister’s brain—memories of her jerking me off while I lay in hospital, and even when I got home.
In my sister’s mind, she’d seen me cum thirty-four to thirty-seven times.
In real life? Only twice. But I knew what I was doing now. I’d pushed past more limits than I’d ever thought possible, and there were so many more to go—I still hadn’t managed to touch my sister, or convinced her to touch me. And no matter what I did, I hadn’t been able to affect her waking life—except for letting me say “thank you” after I masturbated, our relationship was the same as it had ever been (if a tiny bit more open about sex).
So when I sat my sister down for another session, after having finally cum on those glorious breasts of hers, I didn’t repeat the experience. I didn’t even get her topless.
I got straight to work.
“Hypothetical—we’re jerking off in front of each other in the living room, Mom comes home, and you let me cum on your tits.”
Nod.
“What does it feel like?”
“It feels warm. Hot, I guess. And slippery.”
“Does it turn—…would you tell me if it turned you on?”
“No.”
A warm blush began to rise on my sister’s face. A part of me wanted to laugh—she’ll masturbate in front of me, cum as I ejaculate onto her tits…but she won’t talk about whether or not she finds it hot, even though she clearly does.
Like I’ve said before, everyone has limits. I don’t know where they come from, but the more you understand them, the easier they are to move.
“Would you tell me if it turned you on if I came in your mouth?”
A confusing sentence, but Lucy is pretty bright, and she almost immediately answered.
“No.”
“Would you tell me if it turned you on to think about jerking me off?”
“No.”
I was pretty sure that a “no” in this scenario meant that yes, it turned her on, but I figured it was worth checking. I wanted to move forward with as much information as possible.
“Would you tell me if…I dunno, if my ass turns you on?”
“Yes.”
“Does my ass turn you on?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if my cock turned you on?”
There wasn’t even the tiniest of pauses before she responded.
“No.”
Even in her hypnotized state, as my sister monotoned and stared straight at me, her face twitched, as though she wanted to glance down at my pants, and that familiar flush appeared on her ears. Yeah, I was pretty sure that her denials were actually confirmations.
“Would you tell me what you think of me?”
“In what sense?”
“Would you tell me what you think of me sexually?”
“No.”
Good sign.
“Would you tell me what you think of Mom, sexually?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think of Mom sexually?”
“I think she’s an attractive woman for her age, but I have no physical attraction to her myself.”
Tempting though it was to see if I could play with that, I had an agenda. I wanted to get my sister sleeping with me, before I turned to the perhaps-impossible task of getting her to hook up with Mom.
Oh, fuck. I could picture it now…Lucy’s huge boobs coming into contact with Mom’s equally-mammoth mammaries. If I died before seeing that image come to life, I knew I’d have lived a wasted life.
No, focus. Get inside your sister before you get her inside Mom.
“Siblings should be honest with each other, shouldn’t they?”
“…to an extent, yes.”
“To an extent?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“There are circumstances when siblings shouldn’t be honest with each other.”
“Will you tell me what those circumstances are?”
“Yes.”
“When shouldn’t siblings be honest with each other?”
There was a long silence, while Lucy thought. Her incredibly sexy blush never left her face, and I stared at her as she came up with an answer. Finally, just as I was considering skipping the rest of this session and going straight to cumming on her tits instead, she monotoned an answer.
“When one of them is doing something wrong.”
“Why does that matter?”
There was another pause, not nearly as long as the previous one.
“Because being honest could be embarrassing, and it might destroy the relationship.”
Ah ha. She didn’t want to embarrass herself (or maybe me)—I knew just what to do.
“Lucy, who can you trust more than anyone in the world?”
“You.”
I’d already laid the groundwork on this one.
Session 14:
“Why do you like being hypnotized, Lucy?”
“Because it makes me feel free.”
“Why does it make you feel free?”
“I feel like I’ve given someone else control. It’s nice. It’s relaxing.”
“Why is that relaxing, Lucy?”
“Because I don’t have to think.”
“That’s right. You just have to obey, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like obeying?”
“Yes. Sometimes.”
“When do you like obeying, Lucy?”
“When I need to, and it’s someone that I trust.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“You like obeying me because you trust me, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why you like being hypnotized?”
“Yes.”
I considered moving on, but wanted to make sure that the thought process was clear.
“Lucy—you enjoy being hypnotized because you trust me, right?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you enjoy being hypnotized”
“Because I trust you.”
“Say it again.”
“I enjoy being hypnotized because I trust you.”
I studied dramatic irony in high school, and I was pretty sure I’d just found a perfect example of it.
“Do you ever let anyone else hypnotize you?”
“No.”
“So you must trust me more than anyone else.”
Pause.
“ Is that right?”
“…yes.”
“Say it.”
“I trust you more than I trust anyone else.”
“Good girl. Say it again.”
“I trust you more than I trust anyone else.”
“Why do you let me hypnotize you?”
“Because I enjoy it.”
“And why do you enjoy it?”
“Because I trust you.”
Session 23:
I knew that if I wanted to get anywhere, I had to get Lucy talking. The more I could get her to tell me, the more info I could get on where she was, the easier it would be to plot my next few steps. I was so close to affecting real life that I could taste it, I was sure.
So far, I’d only discovered one way to control Lucy in real life: by giving her a hypothetical, waking her up, and making her think that it had actually happened. That was how I’d managed to convince her to let me go up to her and start thanking her every time I masturbated. That was how I’d turned Marcie into my real life sex-toy, as well as using her to get off when I was hypnotized. Lucy and I had even become a bit more open with each other as a result.
No matter how much I got someone to change their mind about something while hypnotized, it didn’t translate to real life. I’d managed to convince Marcie under hypnosis that she should go down on me, but until I altered her memories, she didn’t so much as make a move for my pants. Sure, we made out, but I already knew she was a little bit into me.
BUT—if I could get them to theoretically agree to a change in morals, the change would stick, whenever they were under. That was how I got Lucy to agree to letting me see her topless, or how I first got Marcie to start going down on me. That was how I’d persuaded Lucy to let me cum on her tits. And that, I was sure, was the key to what she was thinking.
“Lucy…it’s not healthy to bottle secrets up, is it?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you have any secrets?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any secrets, Lucy?”
“Yes.”
Her blush deepened, and I was pretty sure I knew what those secrets were.
“Do you have secrets you won’t tell me?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s dangerous to have secrets, isn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure how safe these slight rephrasings were—dangerous, after all, is not the same as “not healthy”—but my sister still had her top on, and so worst-case scenario, today would be a shorter session. There was a noticeable hesitation before she responded, and I made a mental note not to push the rephrasing too far.
“…yes.”
“Who do you trust most in the world?”
“You.”
“You should tell secrets to people you trust, shouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to bottle your secrets up?”
“No.”
“So you should tell someone, shouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And it makes sense to tell me, the person you trust most in the world…doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“So Lucy…will you tell me your secrets?”
“No.”
Damn it. My sister was a tough egg to crack. It was a constant struggle to refrain from just stripping her off and watching her masturbate again, but I had to think of how far I’d come…and how far there was yet to go.
Session 47:
“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.
“Lucy? What would you say if I asked you to fuck me?”
A series of short pants and moans were my only response, as my sister came, her tits bouncing and her cunt clenching repeatedly around my fingers.
Damn it.
Session 23:
“Why won’t you tell me your secrets?”
It was a risky question, but we were running out of time: we were almost at half an hour, and if she was going to wake up, this was as good a time as any for it. It just meant that I wouldn’t get to cum on her tits, which—honestly—I was really looking forward to.
There was a long silence, before she answered softly.
“Because I don’t want you to think I’m a pervert.”
I smiled. That was exactly the answer I’d been hoping for.
“Lucy, do you remember when I told you that I needed help jerking off?”
“Yes.”
“I was super embarrassed, but I told you because I trusted you. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think I was a pervert?”
“Well…no, not really.”
“I took a risk, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“I took a risk because I trusted you. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust me not to judge you?”
“…yes.”
“It’s not healthy to bottle up secrets, is it Lucy?”
“No.”
“And who do you trust most in the world?”
“You.”
“Who should you tell secrets to, Lucy?”
“To…to someone I trust.”
“So if you were going to tell someone a secret, who would it be?”
“…you.”
“And you don’t want to keep your secret to just yourself, do you?”
“No.”
I paused, and took a deep breath.
“What’s your secret, Lucy?”
“I…”
I could definitely have danced around this a bit more, but I was eager to push forward. If I could get her to answer this, I’d still have time to jerk off onto her before we had to wrap things up.
“What’s your secret, Lucy?”
“I…”
There was a long pause, and her eyes fluttered slightly. I tried to arrange my face into an innocent expression, in case she woke up, but after several seconds of silence, my sister’s answer arrived in her familiar monotone.
“…I think you’re sexy.”