Limits
Chapter 5
by Pan
Life was good.
My sister’s best friend was my casual fuck-buddy (minus the fucking, unfortunately), my sister Lucy thought that she’d jerked me off more than 30 times in the last few months…and I was pretty sure she found the idea pretty exciting.
What’s more, I was really starting to get the hang of this hypnosis thing. I could concoct a reality, check with their subconscious mind that they’d accept it as true, and then convince them that it was true.
With my balls being emptied into Marcie on a regular basis, my head was clear, and I knew exactly what to do from here. The path was obvious:
It was time to go back to basics.
Session 17:
“So a few months after my accident, they call me back into hospital, and they think they find something. It’s not super dangerous, but they want to keep me in for a few days, to make sure.”
My sister sat in front of me, glassy-eyed, totally absorbed by my every word. I was concocting another elaborate hypothetical—if I could convince her subconscious mind to do something, then she’d do it no matter what the circumstances. I’d used it to see my sister’s tits, to have her talk to me while I jerked off in front of her, and now I was curious to see how far I could push her limits.
She nodded.
“The few days turn into a week, because they’re being super cautious. Do you come and visit me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you jerk me off?”
There was a delightful (if short) pause, and Lucy shook her head. I had been expecting that, but it was still worth a try.
“Why not?”
“Your arms are working fine. You can do it yourself.”
“Since you stopped jerking me off, or talking me through it, have you thought about it much?”
There was another short pause, and then a quiet “Yes.”
“Would you tell me how often?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“When you come and tell me that you’ve just jerked off. Every time you come and thank me, I remember.”
I’d completely forgotten about that. It was part of the “broken legs” story that had caused her to hypothetically jerk me off in the first place—I’d mentioned that I came and thanked her, each time I came.
Since it was part of that story, and I’d convinced Lucy that the events leading up to her jerking me off had actually happened, as far as Lucy was concerned…it was reality. That meant...that meant that I could actually do that in real life. Like, when Lucy wasn’t under.
The idea of coming to tell Lucy that I’d just jerked off, actually doing it for real…it got me hard straight away.
But I stayed on task. I had a plan, and I was going to follow it.
Session 35:
“You’ll come and tell me when you masturbate, won’t you Lucy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to know how horny you make me.”
“What else will you tell me?”
“I’ll tell you exactly what I thought about. I’ll tell you what was running through my mind when I came.”
“What else?”
“I’ll tell you how I touched myself. I’ll tell you whether I used my fingers or a toy.”
“And?”
“And I’ll thank you.”
Session 17:
“You’ve never stayed in a hospital, have you Lucy?”
“No.”
“Well I have, and I can tell you—they don’t let you have tissues near your bed. And if I jerked off myself, they’d find the wet patch in my hospital clothes, or in my bedsheets...it would be really embarrassing. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I explain this to you in the hospital. What do you say?”
“Oh wow,” my sister said, her normal tones delighting me, as they always did. I loved her monotone, but having her sit in front of me like that, under my control but using her normal voice...I don’t know why, but it gave me such a thrill. “That really sucks, bro.”
“I ask if you’ll help me out, and jerk me off. What do you say?”
“How will that help?”
If I’d been improvising, that probably would have stumped me. But I’d been thinking about this for a while—most recently a few days ago, looking down and watching Marcie’s head bob up and down on my cock—and I had an answer.
“You could swallow my cum. Do you agree?”
There was a long pause, and my sister started twitching. I really didn’t want her to wake up—I was already worried about her or Marci mentioning my extended hospital stay in front of Mom, or one of my friends—adding an inexplicable follow-up stay would have made everything that much harder—but fortunately, she calmed down after a minute or two.
“No,” she said, and I sat back in disappointment. From cum-swallowing to blow-jobs was, I was fairly sure, a short path, but it didn’t seem like I was going to be able to make that first step.
I considered waking her then and there—I had some other methods that I wanted in the middle of trying out on Marcie first, and I had already gotten uncomfortably close to waking my sister up once...but I had an idea.
“Would you help me smuggle out my cum, if I jerked myself off?”
There was a pause—not long enough to be worrisome, just a short pause—and Lucy nodded.
“Would you watch me masturbate, while I did?”
Again, a short pause and then a nod. Interesting. A few months ago, I never would have imagined myself in this position, but it seemed that my sister Lucy was more than happy to watch me jerk off, if the circumstances were right.
“Would you tell me if you’d enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
“Would you enjoy it? Watching me masturbate?”
“...yes.”
There was something there, but I didn’t have a clue what to do with it. So I retraced my steps, hoping that it would provide me with inspiration.
“So if I were in hospital, horny and unable to get release, you’d watch me masturbate and help smuggle my cum out?”
“Yes.”
“Will you smuggle it in your mouth?”
Pause.
“No.”
“Will you smuggle it in your handbag?”
“Ew. No.”
“Will you smuggle it in your hair, under your hat?”
“No.”
No pause before that one. It was, I had to admit, a bit of a long shot.
“Will you smuggle it on your skin somewhere?”
The twitching began again, which had me worried that I was playing too fast and loose, but when it subsided and she whispered another “yes”, my heart leapt.
“You’ll let me cum on your skin?”
“Yes. As long as I can cover it up with clothes until I get home and get to have a shower.”
I could have aimed for the legs, or her arms, but I had an idea, and I decided to throw caution to the wind.
“Can I cum on your tits?”
After what felt like the longest pause of my life, she answered.
“Yes,” my sister said. “I’ll let you cum on my tits.”
Session A8:
“What would you do, Mom, if you found Lucy and I in a room together, naked?”
“I’d be shocked.”
“What if we told you that we were just huddled together for warmth?”
“It would still be shocking.”
“Recent studies have shown that contact between two naked people is one hundred times more effective than a blanket.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s okay to do that with your sister...”
“Why not?”
“Well...because...”
“...”
“I don’t know.”
I smiled. I’d found a gap in my mother’s knowledge, and if there was one thing my mother loved, it was learning...
Session 17:
So my sister was okay with me cumming on her tits. Only in that extremely specific scenario, I should add, else my cock would have already been out.
The image of my sister, sitting in front of me, her tits covered in my cum…it was one of the sexiest things I’d ever imagined. Before I woke her up, I got her to repeat the statement a few more times.
“I will let you cum on my tits.”
“Again.”
“I will let you cum on my tits.”
“Again.”
“I will let you cum on my tits.”
It’s possible I had her repeat the statement a few times while topless as well.
The session hadn’t brought me to the blow-job that I’d hoped was coming, but it was the first step down a very specific path. At that moment, almost more than anything, I wanted to blow a load on my sister’s chest. I don’t know why I found the idea so erotic, but I knew that I had a new focus. And I thought I knew just how to get there…
Session B16:
“What did you dream about last night, Marcie?”
“You. Again.”
Those two words, so mundane, normally so inconsequential…in that order, in that situation, they were two of the hottest words I’d ever heard.
As much fun as fooling around with Marcie was, it wasn’t what I truly wanted. I wanted my sister, and Marcie’s most useful asset was as a test subject—before I risked screwing things up with Lucy, I tested them out on Marcie first.
And last week, I’d had an idea.
Session B14:
“What do you normally dream about, Marcie?”
“Y’know. Normal stuff. School, work...boys.”
“Do you ever dream about me?”
“Not really, no.”
“But you could, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Okay. Hypothetical for you. You have a dream. It’s about me. I’m holding a collar, and it’s got your name on it...”
This was another one of the fantasies that Marcie had shared with me. I wished I had the same access to Lucy’s fantasies, but she still refused to tell me the specifics of what she thought about when she masturbated.
I continued to tell Marcie her own sexual fantasy, but as a dream, with me as the central character. I reached the end—her breathing was heavy, and a crimson flush was creeping up her neck.
“...and we turn around, to see your entire church staring at us. You’re super embarrassed, but I don’t stop. Just as you’re about to cum...you wake up.”
She slumped in disappointment, and I quickly continued, not wanting to lose the momentum.
“You wake up, and I’m there, in real life. I ask you if you want to fuck. You say...yes.”
As I’d expected, there was a lot of twitching. I don’t know why Marcie had such a specific block when it came to going all the way, but I’d found it extremely useful—it was a handy limit that I could use to wake her up when needed.
Just as I was sure she was finally going to answer “yes”, her eyes fluttered, and focussed on me. She looked disoriented for a second, but then her eyes flickered down to the tent in my pants.
“Oh hey you...” she said with a wink, and a few minutes later, those beautiful lips of hers were wrapped around my cock.
Session B16:
The next session had been more of the same, but I’d been careful to describe it as a recurring dream. “Every night,” I think I said.
See, I still haven’t worked out a way to give anyone direct commands, except for when they’re under. If someone would blow me in real life, I can get them to do it when they’re hypnotized...but I can’t say “Hey, when you’re awake, you’ll have a desire to wear a bikini 24/7.”
I only have power over their subconscious, for whatever reason, and even then it’s only to get them to do stuff that they’d already do. Anything that’s believable is possible, but only in specific circumstances.
But that had got me thinking...what if I could control their subconscious, even when they were “awake”? And it was that train of thought that had led me to dreams...
Now I don’t know how powerful dreams are in other people...especially girls. But I can tell you, there have been a few times when I’ve woken up from a particularly hot dream with a hard-on for something I’d never be into. I once dreamt that Lucy had a foot fetish, and for the next few days, I found myself getting off to more than a few pictures of girls getting off on feet.
It didn’t last long, but all I needed to do was plant a seed. And Marcie had just proven to me that the seed was able to be planted.
“What did you dream about?” I asked, and sat back for the next few minutes as Marcie told me a lewd series of fantasies that involved me fucking her in the front of a classroom, on a golf course, and in some rare owl sanctuary, of all places.
None of these, I should point out, were dreams that I’d planted. I just told her that she had sexual dreams about me all the time, and her kinky brain had done the rest. But the ultimate question was still ahead of me:
Would it work on my sister?