More Limits
Chapter 2
Session B22:
“What did you dream about last night?”
“You fucking me.”
“When did you last masturbate?”
“This morning.”
“What did you think about when you did?”
“You fucking me.”
“Do you find the idea of me fucking you sexy?”
“Yup.”
My sister’s best friend. My favorite test subject: if I wasn’t sure if something would work on Lucy, I came to Marcie first, and tested it out. She was sexually open in every way except actual intercourse, and my next goal was simple—I wanted to find a way to get her past her weird hang-up, and into bed.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
There was a long pause, and a lot of twitching. I just sat and watched Marcie struggle with her desires. On one hand, I knew that she really wanted me to fuck her—on the other hand, she considered it a big step, a commitment of sorts.
I could have stepped in, but I really wanted to see which side won.
“…nope,” she finally said. There’d been a risk of her waking up, but I wasn’t worried—I hadn’t started a hypothetical. Her memories were safe.
“Why don’t you want me to fuck you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“You don’t love me.”
“Do you love me?”
“No way.”
I know it shouldn’t have—I was literally using her as a play-thing and lab rat—but yeah, that stung a little.
“Why does it matter if I love you?’
“You should only fuck someone if you’re in love.”
I paused for a second, before remembering one of the first hypotheticals that ever worked on Lucy.
“Who do you think is the hottest actor in Hollywood?” I asked, and was surprised when the answer of “Josh Hutcherson” back. I didn’t even know who that was.
“Okay,” I continued, undeterred. “Hypothetical: Josh Hutcherson comes by your house.”
“Yuh huh.”
I had to be careful not to wake her up from this one…if she started telling people about the time Josh Hutcherson visited her, everyone would think she was crazy.
“He says that he got your email—you wrote him an email—and he thinks you’re gorgeous. You attached a photo.”
I paused, let her process the information, and had to hold back a laugh as a blush spread across her face.
“What do you say?”
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my GOD!”
Phew. I was glad I’d done this when no one else was home. I rubbed my ear in pain, and shushed the excited girl.
“If Josh Hutcherson made a move, would you let him fuck you?”
“Of freaking course.” No hesitation there.
“But are you two in love?”
“Not yet.” I couldn’t help but laugh at her optimism.
“So it’s okay to fuck when you’re not in love, right?”
“Right. When it’s Josh freaking Hutcherson.”
Sometimes her slang sounded so strange, coming out of her in a monotone.
“So it’s okay to fuck someone if you’re not in love…if you think they’re sexy. Right?’
“Well…yeah. I guess.”
“Yes or no, Marcie?”
There was a pause.
“Yeah…if you’ve had a crush on them forever.”
I smiled. She’d given me an open window, and all I needed to do was climb in.
Session B23:
I’d spent the rest of our last session implanting memories of a crush that Marcie had had on me forever. It wasn’t hard—perhaps I was just getting better at it. Snippets here, snippets there, tie them all together, and then wake her up slowly and suddenly she believes that she’s been wanting me her whole life. I even managed to tie it into the first time we hypothetically hooked up, altering the memory I’d already implanted, making our first kiss the culmination of years of her desiring me.
Now, to see if all that work had paid off.
“Marcie.”
“Mmm?”
“What did you think about the last time you masturbated?”
“You fucking me.”
“What do you think about every time you masturbate?”
“You fucking me.”
“How long have you been doing that?”
“Years.”
“How many years?”
“As long as I’ve known you.”
I took a deep breath, and asked the ten thousand dollar question.
“Hypothetical: we’re fooling around. You’ve just started going down on me, and I tap you on the shoulder and ask if I can fuck you. What do you say?”
“Of course.”
It was almost too easy.
Meanwhile, progress with Mom was slow going. A week or two ago, I’d successfully convinced her that if Lucy and I met as adults, it would be okay for us to hook up. I wasn’t sure exactly where I could go with that, but it felt like a big step forward. I’d spent the next four or five sessions trying to expand on it, but thus far I’d been having no luck.
But I remembered from my early days with Lucy, the only way forward was to play around until you found something that stuck. And so I’d started leading Mom down random alley-ways, turning back each time a hit a dead-end.
Finally, I found something. It wasn’t exactly what I’d been planning, but it was something I could work with.
Session A23:
“Do you still think incest is wrong if it’s between animals?”
“No.”
Not that. That wasn’t what worked. That was just another example of me casting a line and seeing what I could catch.
“Do you think it’s wrong for a brother to be sexually attracted to his sister?”
“Yes.”
“What if she’s really, really hot?”
“It’s still wrong.”
As you can tell, I was getting pretty desperate. I’d started just asking whatever random questions came to mind.
“Would you have a problem if Lucy started wearing short skirts all the time?”
Hell, Lucy would have a problem herself if she started wearing short skirts all the time. But like I said, I was fishing.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Why not?”
There was a long pause, and I tentatively allowed myself to be hopeful.
“…it just wouldn’t be.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile. I’d found a gap. “Would you ever wear a short skirt?”
“No.”
It was true. I’d never seen Mom in anything shorter than a knee-length dress.
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Why not?”
“Because…my legs aren’t good enough.”
Interesting. Also, incidentally: false. From what I’d seen of Mom’s legs, she could easily get away with a short skirt. Just the idea of it was enough to get me hard.
“Are Lucy’s legs good enough?”
Another long pause.
“Yes.”
“So why can’t she wear one?”
“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“But why not?”
“It just wouldn’t be.”
Mothers. Even through a monotone, I got the distinct “and that’s final” tone from her words. But I wasn’t done yet—there was something here, and I wanted to explore it.
“Okay, hypothetical: what if you had amazing legs. Then would you wear a short skirt?”
(She does have amazing legs, so clearly the issue was in how Mom perceived herself.)
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I wouldn’t feel comfortable in it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d be too aware of myself.”
“Yes,” I said, clearly not understanding the ways of women. “But what if your legs were good enough? What then?”
“I still wouldn’t wear one.”
This had me stumped, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed.
“How could I convince you that you’ve got good legs?”
“You couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t.”
“But…”
Hmmm.
“Okay, how could anyone convince you that you had good legs?”
“They couldn’t.”
For a moment, I wondered if I’d somehow managed to break my mother, but I figured I just didn’t know enough about how the female mind worked. Fortunately, I had a female on-hand who was much more communicative.
Session B25:
After she’d hypothetically agreed to having sex with me, I’d fucked Marcie. And then, just to make sure it had worked, I’d woken her up and fucked her again.
The session after that I’d just spent reinforcing everything…and then yeah, I fucked her some more. Can you blame me?
She was so happy. It was hard not to get a big head, honestly. But what worked on Marcie wouldn’t work on my sister—apart from the whole “incest” barrier, they had completely different drives…and completely different limits.
Still, it was nice to know that it was hypothetically possible to turn someone around. And the sex—not that I had much to compare it to—was great.
To make sure that she didn’t have a conversation about it with Lucy, I made sure that her crush on me was a secret from everyone, even her best friend. I have no idea what would have happened if she’d tried to talk to my sister about it and been met with shock, as if it was new information.
I was tempted to blow our next session off and just spend our time together thrusting in and out of her—she wouldn’t have said no, I knew that—but I wanted to learn, and so I let Marcie keep her clothes on. At least to start with.
“Marcie…do you think you’re attractive?”
“Sure. I guess.”
“On a scale of 1-10, where would you rank yourself?”
“About a 7, maybe an 8 on a good day.”
Interesting. Perhaps the fact that I’d convinced her to start worshipping my cock gave me a slight bias, but I’d definitely put Marcie higher than that. I don’t exactly stand by the rating system, but Marcie was easily an 8.5- 9.
The only people I’d put as a 10 were my sister and Mom, so…yeah. I’m probably not the best person to be ranking girls. Still, it was interesting to see how she saw herself.
“Would you tell me why?”
“I guess.”
“Why?”
What followed was a monotonous (literally) list of tiny flaws and defects that Marcie noticed about her body. I can tell you, I’d seen the girl naked a few times now, and I’d never noticed any of them. Finally, after she’d mentioned the “bagginess of her knees”, I cut her off.
“How could I convince you that none of these are a problem?”
“You couldn’t”, she said immediately, the same answer that my mother had given.
“Could anyone?”
“No. At least, not one person.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s society, as much as anything. If the rest of the world changed, then sure, I’d change with it.”
A noble idea, but not particularly helpful. I decided to narrow my focus.
“Your knees. How could I convince you that they were sexy?’
“You couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
There was a long pause, and when she responded, it was with a gem of self-awareness that honestly, I didn’t expect her to have.
“Because the only person who could convince me is me. And I hate them.”
Interesting.
I could have spent all day on this, but I think I’d heard enough. I decided to move onto something more interesting.
Marcie was a girl who had always been a little bit into me. Turning her into a sex-buddy had been easy. Even getting her “in the sack” wasn’t too hard—I’d just had to convince her that her crush was a full-blown obsession.
No, if I wanted to get my worth out of Marcie, I had to push her past that. I had to push her past her limits.
Convincing her to fuck me, that was easy. Convincing her that she needed to fuck me, that she couldn’t live without it…that was the next step. That was the challenge—if I could pull that off, I could do anything.
And I already had a few ideas of where I could start.
Session B103:
“Marcie?”
Nothing.
“Marcie, can you hear me?”
Silence. I reached out, touched her hand and spoke more sharply.
“Marcie, answer me. Can you hear what I’m saying?”
“Mmm?”
It had been almost four months now. Everyone was worried…what they didn’t know was that when I had her under, I could at least get her to respond with small noises.
“Okay Marcie, hypothetical…”
I waited for a nod, but when none came, continued anyway.
“You’re a small child. Two or three. Your parents are teaching you how to talk, and you’ve heard them speaking over the last few months. You’re starting to understand what they’re saying, and today, finally, your mouth is able to form your first word. What do you say?”
I leaned forward in hope, but…nothing.
Four months I’d been visiting Marcie. Four months I’d rather have been spending at home, for obvious reasons. And still no progress.
“Okay, forget that. You’re a sixteen-year old bikini model.”
Nothing.
“You’re the Queen of England.”
Nothing.
“You grew up in Germany as the son of a family of lumberjacks.”
Nothing.
I turned to my sister and shrugged. She gave me a wry smile, and I rolled my eyes.
“Go on,” I said, and she began undressing
I sat back as my sister approached her chair and began unbuttoning the silent girl’s gown. Marcie smiled in anticipation. She didn’t seem to know who or where she was most of the time, but she knew when sex was on the menu, and it seemed to be the only thing that made her happy.
As soon as Marcie was naked, my sister began to undress as well, and Marcie—I kid you not—came just at the sight of her perfect body.
A lot of things triggered an easy orgasm in Marice. It was yet another change that worried the doctors.
I watched, unable to stop myself from getting hard as my sister’s lips met Marcie’s, and their hands began to explore each other’s bodies. While she was like this, I couldn’t just abandon her…but if I couldn’t be of any use here, I figured I may as well try to enjoy the show.