Level Ten
by Pan
Chapter 2:
My sister checked in a few times over the next few days, always with the same feedback.
“This is great!”
Apparently her focus had already improved, and she was actually starting to get ahead on her schoolwork. She thanked me so often that it almost started to get embarrassing.
I’d checked the book a few times, and it didn’t say anything about such strong results. In fact, it said that for lasting change, multiple level ten sessions would be necessary, which could take weeks, or months.
The book didn’t have a publication date, but it had to be at least fifty years old. I figured maybe human nature had changed—you know, smartphones and all that? Maybe it was just easier to go in and tinker with people’s minds in the modern era.
Still…if that was how much my sister had been affected for something that was hard to do, I couldn’t wait to see the results on Elsa. Sex was a base human drive—by the time I was done with her, it’d be hard to get her to put her clothes back on.
“Hey bro! How did it go?”
“Hmmm?”
“Wasn’t today your first session with Elsa?”
I sighed. I’d forgotten that I’d told my sister when I was doing it.
“Yeah…”
“God. That bad?”
“Yeah…”
I slumped back on the couch, but it was obvious that Lisa was ignoring the signals. Instead of fucking off, she sat down next to me.
It hadn’t gone badly—it had been what the book described as a fairly standard first induction. After about seventy minutes, I’d managed to get Elsa down to level five. The next time would probably take half as long, and get her to level six…
Compared to Lisa’s induction, however, it had felt like pulling teeth. Level five isn’t even enough to start imparting instructions; the book recommended waiting until at least level seven for that. Even then, you were still addressing the conscious mind, and so it would probably be at least a few weeks before I could get Elsa to the point where I could start convincing her to let go of some of her sexual hangups.
Weeks.
On top of that, Elsa hadn’t really liked it.
Lisa had taken to being hypnotized like a fish takes to water, but Elsa had clearly been uncomfortable every step of the way. After we were done, we’d spent an hour cuddling; I could tell that she needed it.
Not the kind of cuddling I needed, but it was nice to be that close to her.
“I don’t know if this is worth it,” she’d said as I was leaving, and a part of me wondered if she was right. In order for my plan to work, I’d have to convince her to put up with several more hours of uncomfortableness, just so I could deceive her.
What a mess.
“Oh no!” my sister said, leaning in and putting her head on my shoulder. She was wearing a blue-and-white striped dress; it was a little tight on her, which meant that it really emphasized her curves.
Her curves which were in no need of emphasizing in the first place.
“You know,” she said, breaking the silence, “if it would help to practice, you can hypnotize me. Whenever you like.”
“Thanks, sis. But I thought everything was going great?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, a dreamy voice entering her voice. “But, y’know, maybe it would help.”
“Help?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’d always be interested in improving my studying, and then you can practice exactly what you’ll say to Elsa.”
I really can’t, I thought to myself, accidentally glancing down at my sister’s expansive cleavage. “That’s sweet, but I don’t know it’d help.”
“No problem,” she said breezily, extracting herself from the couch. “It’s an open offer!”
With a sigh, I tried not to think about how compliant my sister had been under hypnosis, how easily she’d gone under…
…those twitches.
Those tits.
Over the next few weeks, I put Elsa under twice more. She didn’t want to do it more than once a week; it was difficult to get much traction, but the book was right—the second time was easier. After forty minutes, I managed to get her to level six. The week after, level seven.
That’s where I made my mistake.
“You like being hypnotized,” I said, trying to pave the way for next week’s sessions.
Her entire body immediately froze up.
“No,” she said flatly. “I don’t.”
It took me a few moments to recognize the signs, but they were pretty unambiguous—she’d jumped straight back up to level two. Twenty-five minutes of guiding her down the path to level seven, undone in a single sentence.
I tried to coax her back down for a few minutes, but it wasn’t working. She was too tense, too resistant.
Instead, I slowly returned her to consciousness.
“I didn’t like that,” she admitted.
“I know,” I said, and we spent the rest of the evening watching Netflix.
That night, my sister was waiting for me again.
“How did it go?” she smiled.
“Terribly,” I said flatly. This time, she picked up on my tone, and changed the topic immediately.
“I aced my exam!”
“Wow!”
“Yeah,” she said with a laugh.That dreamy look passed across her face again as she continued.
“Hypnosis,” she said. “Incredible. Are you sure it wouldn’t help to put me under again?”
“No,” I said reluctantly. “But thanks. Again.”
“Anytime,” she said, lightly touching my shoulder as she breezed out of the room.
When Elsa told me, I struggled to accept it.
“But…you’re eighteen!”
“I know,” she said sadly.
“You could stay here, if you wanted to.”
She bit her lip, and I could see the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. After an infinitely long silence, I finished the thought for her.
“….you don’t want to.”
“That’s not true,” she said, but neither of us believed her.
For a while, I asked myself if it was the hypnosis. Maybe if I hadn’t been forcing her to sit down for an hour each week and do something that she didn’t enjoy, she would have stayed. Yeah, it would have been hard—she’d never lived out of home before. But we could have made it work. Surely.
Eventually, I accepted the truth: there was no reason for her to stay.
Not really.
Yes, we loved each other. But we were kids. Why stay in a one-horse town and struggle to make ends meet when you can keep living with your family? In San Francisco, at that. Elsa was a whiz programmer—what better city to live and study in?
It made sense. It completely made sense.
But that didn’t mean it hurt any less.
When I got home that night, my sister didn’t ask about the hypnosis. I don’t know if she heard from Elsa’s older sister, or if she just read it in my body language.
Instead, she drew me into a deep, soft hug, and then opened the bottle of whisky that Mom kept on top of the fridge.
By the time Mom got home from work, we were both pretty wasted.
I haven’t really talked about Mom much. She’s great—she’s kind, funny, and infinitely supportive. Our father died when I was one; Lisa has a few memories of him, but for me, there’s only ever been Mom.
When she found her two children drunk in the den, she didn’t get mad, or ask why we’d taken her booze. She sat down with us, took a swig, and asked for the story.
When I explained that Elsa had left me, she gave me the exact same hug as my sister had, and sat around for the next hour trading breakup stories.
Eventually, Mom went to bed, and Lisa and I were left alone, slowly sobering up.
“I’m really sorry,” my sister said, and I scrunched up my face.
“Sorry ’bout what?”
“I’m…I guess I’m sorry that you never got to hypnotize Elsa. Not properly.”
There it was again. That soft, dreamy quality to her voice.
“Why you sorry ’bout that?”
“It’s just…”
Without the booze, I don’t know that Lisa would have finished that thought. But her inhibitions were lubricated, and she pressed on.
“It’s the best. I really loved it.
“Really.”
Without the booze, I don’t know that my thoughts would have continued down those dark paths. But over the past two and a half hours of drinking, a thought had occurred to me: now that Elsa was moving away, I’d never get to fuck her.
I’d been with her for eighteen months, and I’d never even seen her topless.
Assuming I found someone else who wanted to date me, and assuming they were anything like Elsa, it would be years before I even got close to losing my virginity.
Years.
And those two assumptions weren’t even guaranteed. What if I never found someone to date? Never again? What if I was doomed to a lifetime of jerking off, trying not to think about my sister’s wobbling tits, going deeper and deeper down the rabbit-hole of internet porn?
No.
I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t.
I’d like to blame the booze, I really would. Because in that moment, drunk and lonely, I realized that I had an alternative.
I didn’t have to spend the rest of my teenage years a virgin.
“How do you feel?”
“Good. So good. So relaxed. Wonderful.”
My sister’s slurring voice made me so hard. Drunk and hypnotized—the book hadn’t said how this would affect my ability to make changes, but I was keen to find out.
“Good girl.”
There it was again—that full-body twitch. My cock was practically threatening to burst out of my pants.
“You like being hypnotized?”
“I love it. I crave it.”
“Why?”
“I feel so relaxed. So wonderful.”
“Good girl.”
Twitch. If I didn’t have so much alcohol swimming around my body, I wonder if I would have creamed my jeans.
“You want…”
I trailed off. Think. Think.
When I’d told Elsa something that wasn’t true, it had almost knocked her out of trance. Lisa was deeper, and she was drunk, but it still wasn’t worth the risk. Right now, I could talk her into getting hypnotized again any time I wanted to hypnotize her. If I made her enjoy it less, if I made her resistant, I ran the risk of ruining that.
Couldn’t do it. Had to be smart.
“You like being hypnotized.”
“Yessss.”
“You love being hypnotized.”
“Yesss.”
“You will…”
I hesitated. Fuck it. Worth the risk.
“You will do anything to be hypnotized again.”
“Yessss.”
I smiled.
“Say it.”
“I will do anything to be hypnotized again.”
“Say it again.”
“I will do anything to be hypnotized again.”
“Again.
“I will do anything to be hypnotized again.”
Good. This was good. I could use this. I could…
Wait. Had to be smart.
“It feels great when I hypnotize you.”
“Yesss.”
“But! It might not feel great if someone else hypnotizes you. No way of knowing.”
My sister didn’t miss a beat.
“Yes.”
“If someone else hypnotizes you, and it doesn’t feel great, that might make hypnosis less enjoyable.”
“Yes…”
“Better not risk it. Right?”
“Yes.”
“You love being hypnotized. Say it.”
“I love being hypnotized.”
“But, to be safe, you should only ever let me hypnotize you.”
“Yes.”
“You will let me hypnotize you whenever you like.”
“Yesss.”
“You will do anything to let me hypnotize you again.”
“Yesss.”
“Say it.”
“I will do anything to let you hypnotize me again.”
“But you will not let anyone else hypnotize you.”
“I will not let anyone else hypnotize me.”
“Good girl.”
There it was again. That twitch.
“Are you enjoying your newfound attention span?”
“Yes. Love it.”
“Your newfound focus is because I hypnotized you.”
“Yes.”
“Good things happen when I hypnotize you.”
“Yessss.”
Full-body tremor. I watched my sisters tits bounce for what felt like hours before finally settling back into place.
“You will let me hypnotize you whenever I want.”
“Yesssss.”
“You will never question why I want to hypnotize you.”
“I will never question why you want to hypnotize you.”
“Being hypnotized brings you pleasure.”
“Yes.”
“You will never question this pleasure.”
“I will never question this pleasure.”
“To hypnotize you, I need access to your mind.”
“Yesss.”
“Your mind is mine, to access as I please.”
“Yess.”
“Your mind is mine.”
“…yes.”
There was a brief pause before she agreed to that one. I knew I should quit while I was ahead; I’d made sure that I’d be able to hypnotize Lisa whenever I wanted, with no resistance. I’d made good progress.
But I was unable to resist one final instruction.
“Hypnosis brings you pleasure.”
“Yesssss.”
“You will associate hypnosis with pleasure.”
“Yesss.”
“And you will associate pleasure with hypnosis.”
“Yes.”
“You will think of hypnosis when you pleasure yourself.”
“…yes.”
With a smile, I slowly brought my sister out of her trance.
This was going to be fun.