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I always tell people that there are thirteen months and thirteen years between me and my brother, Justin. That’s thirteen months between him being born and me following on, and thirteen years between his ever-teenage maturity levels and my much more adult view of life. To be fair he is nineteen, so a genuine teenager, but while I’m just eighteen I could easily pass for a young woman of thirty or so — mentally, at least. I’m far too cute to look that old just yet. No offence to anyone reading this who has already reached such mature years.
I’m Becky, by the way. Rebecca if my parents have their way, but Becky to all and sundry else. Especially since I started at university a year early, much to Justin’s chagrin. Chagrin that was pushed to the limit when he realised I would be attending the same uni as him. Again, to be fair, it wasn’t deliberate, more a last minute scramble that had me happily renting an apartment in a house only to find that my brother had already rented the place directly over my head. The shock over the coincidence is still ringing in my ears, but I somehow think that Justin felt it far more acutely to judge by the way acted so negatively when he bumped into me in the hallway for the first time.
And, I imagine, for how things have panned out since that fateful day. His fault of course…
The house we share is not… very modern, shall we say. The one bathroom is vast, but there is just the one, and, I now know, the lock on the door can be opened from the outside. I was enjoying a lukewarm shower one afternoon when Justin, accompanied by two of his fellow Economics students, proved the point.
He later tried to tell me that they had insisted that he provide them with an intimate view of his little sister’s naked body, There again, he later told me that they had bribed him to do it, that they had threatened him with violence if he didn’t do it, and that he had been forced to do it to pay off gambling debts with the pair of them. All the more reasons for my later retaliation.
Whatever the reason, to find myself suddenly exposed like that — and believe me, I froze, naked, facing the door when they broke in — was shocking in the extreme. No one outside of a doctor’s surgery had ever seen more than my bare tits (I hate the word ‘boobs’), and that had been in the dark of my room. When I finally recovered the power of movement I grabbed a tower to cover myself and yelled more expletives in a minute than the average soccer player does in a season.
Justin and his friends/partners/enemies whooped and hollered undeterred by my outburst, and their eyes stayed glued to the towel, no doubt now just imagining what was underneath. I looked each of them in the eyes determined to remember both of them for future retribution, and even glanced across to where Justin was… where he was also staring. Hesitantly, I grant you, but staring, his eyes flicking up to mine almost — but not quite — apologetically. With yet more shock I realised that he hadn’t been too upset by not just the act of exposing me, but also by what he had seen.
If nothing else it ended my tirade and I quickly kicked them from the doorway and slammed the dubious privacy guard of the door itself. After wedging the door with a towel, I dried myself slowly, deep in thought. That look in Justin’s eyes was more shocking in many ways than the stunt itself. It was scary, creepy and just plain wrong. And there were absolutely no ‘buts’ in that sentence. Really.
I needed to think even more.
And I needed revenge.
I never thought it would work. Not on Justin. It was more a dry run for the revenge, a little silly playing just to make him feel either stupid in front of my friends, or superior so he wasn’t expecting what might come next — whatever that might be.
I’d better bring you up to speed. I had invited two of my friends along for a girls’ night in and had, over the third or fourth glass of wine, finally admitted all about the stunt my brother had pulled. Pippa (she was named that by her parents and occasionally called herself Philippa in hope more than expectation) and Rachael had both found it hilarious, of course, but it did at least give Pippa the idea that would eventually be my brother’s downfall. More or less.
It sounded preposterous, or at least would have done without the help of the Sauvignon, but Pippa assured me that it had worked well at a family party she had attended recently. She would, she said, be the stooge in a hypnotist set-up ‘conjured’ by me, and be so convincing in front of Justin that he might even have to pretend to be under the influence when I tried it on him.
Like I said, preposterous, right? Well that’s what I thought until (please bear in mind how much wine we’d drunk)… until Pippa showed us what she meant. First she reluctantly ‘went under’, then she acted out whatever we asked of her, and best of all was a ‘re-engagement’ phrase which sent her under again even after I’d brought her out of the ‘trance’. Obviously it couldn’t be anything I would ankara escort bayan
normally say so we settled on the rather nonsensical — but safe ‘a stuntman playing Batman’. It was the re-engagement phrase that even had me wondering for a few seconds just how real it all was. I said it and then just added ‘take your blouse off’ and she stripped without seeming to pause in uncorking another bottle of wine.
I should point out that we were in my living-bedroom, of course, and also point out that a quick ‘back to reality’ was said before Justin was due home and might poke his head around my front door. Having said that, Pippa assured me that she would be more than happy to lose her blouse in front of Justin if that would help prove the case for the hypnotism. I was still pretty sure that Justin wouldn’t bother about trying to fit in or pretend that he believed in such nonsense. But I had to admit that Pippa’s performance was rather compelling. Sauvignon, huh?
Talking of which, we managed to have another before Justin lurched into the communal hallway and took a couple of minutes to try to appear sober before he slithered into my room, full of smiles.
“Hi, little ladies!” he greeted us, barely slurring, “Having fun?”
“Oh yes, bro,” I slurred less (probably), “But all too mystical for the likes of you.” I turned to Pippa who had prepared for her part in record time, “Ready?”
“All set, Becky.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Justin waved for attention, “What’s all this I’m not supposed to be ready for? This ‘mystical’ crap?”
Rachael stood up and provided the rehearsed answer, “Mesmerism. Hypnotism to the likes of you. Your sister has been practicing for ages and we’re just about to see how well it works. Pippa doesn’t believe it’s possible so we reckon she’s the ideal subject.”
“Mug you mean,” Justin snorted.
“You can snort all you want,” I shrugged, “but it’s all real enough. This should prove it to you, but if you still need real proof I’ll do you after Pips.”
My ‘subject’ nodded at my brother, “It’ll never work and that will prove it once and for all.” she told him, “So I’m no mug, I assure you.”
Justin found himself a can of cheap lager in the fridge and then a place on the sofa next to Rachael, “So let’s see what you can’t do,” he grinned at me.
I pretended to ignore him and turned to the only slightly over-acting Pippa who quickly settled down and pretended to prepare to be mesmerised. Within a couple of minutes I had her on the edge of a ‘trance’ and a few mumbles later her head tipped forwards.
“See?” I said, uncertainly, “I did it, she’s under.”
Justin snorted, “It’s a good act is all. Let’s see how she behaves now.”
“Pippa, Justin doesn’t believe you’re under my spell so what I will ask you to do next you won’t remember when you wake. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Becky,” Pippa nodded so weirdly I almost believed she was under my control.
When I asked her to take off her blouse and she complied so easily, my doubts rose. I turned to my brother, “She would hardly do that with you looking on if she wasn’t hypnotised, would she?”
Justin was almost licking his lips as he stared at Pippa’s tiny, and now I really looked, almost see-through bra. When he shifted on the sofa, crossing his legs, I knew he was rather turned on. For some weird reason, totally unbidden and with its source totally unknown to me, I wondered if my brother would like just a little more of a thrill. I didn’t exactly want to please him more, but somehow the thought of him being more excited… appealed to me. “Is that enough or do you want more proof from Pippa? Her skirt as well, maybe?”
“You’d get her to do that right now and right here?” my brother stuttered.
I couldn’t see how Pippa was taking the idea so I shrugged, “If I can and if that’s what you want?”
It took Justin three attempts to say ‘sure’.
“Pippa,” I said, my voice grave, “You will also not remember this, but remove your skirt now.”
I don’t know who was the most shocked in the room when the normally shy Pippa said ‘Yes, Becky’ and unzipped her skirt in a couple of seconds. When it dropped to the floor to reveal panties that matched the bra three jaws dropped. We could all plainly see that our little Pips was a natural blonde and in need of a little trimming. Best of all for me anyway, there wasn’t a hint of blush on her cheeks.
“I think,” I told Justin, “that proves my case. And if any more proof were ever needed I can drop her into a trance again even when I take her out of it with a special phrase. But I can’t leave the poor girl like that because she might trip over your tongue, okay?”
It was okay whether Justin liked it or not, and I had Pippa dress herself again and then ‘brought her out’. I turned to Justin.
“Now tell me you don’t believe me.”
Pippa gave a quizzical ‘Did you make me cluck like a chicken?’ to which we all answered ‘yes’ or similar — playing the game or evading the truth, depending on who you were. Justin escort bayan though was stubborn.
“It looked real enough but I’m not betting against a rehearsed thing.”
I shook my head, “She couldn’t rehearse this then. Not even a stuntman playing batman could.”
Pippa was playing her part to perfection and her head drooped right away at the re-engagement phrase.
Justin was, I could see, impressed, “That’s like a special phrase to get her under again?”
“Oh yeah, and it works with all the commands you heard earlier — she’ll take off stuff and not remember, even, if I want her to.” A weird part of me wanted Justin to be… happy again. “She’s genuinely under, you see?”
When Justin, not bothering to hide eagerness, said ‘go on then’, I swear I didn’t get too much pleasure out of telling Pippa to get her blouse and skirt off, but a part of me did make sure that my brother was happy with the rather naughty view.
“You convinced now?” I asked him as he drooled over the view.
His hesitation had my heart starting to beat faster. When he said ‘Almost’ it started to skip a beat or two. When he asked ‘Would she take off her bra maybe?’ it stopped, I’m sure. If not then, it surely must when I saw the faintest of nods from Pippa.
“I… guess I can find out for you and prove this thing once and for all. You sure?”
Justin nodded almost feverishly and I turned to my normally oh-so shy friend. “Pippa?”
“One last thing. Will you still forget about everything but also take your bra off now?”
“Yes, Becky, Pippa answered instantly.
We all watched with indrawn breaths as little Pippa reached behind herself and quickly unclipped her bra. She wriggled her shoulders for an instant and held her arms straight down, the almost sheer garment falling to the floor. More to the point, revealing her small but perfectly pert breasts to eager eyes. Eager, I hope, for different reasons.
“Just.. Justin, do you believe me now?”
“Fuck… sorry, sis, I mean hell I just might do. And ain’t Pips got cute tits?”
“She’s, er, very athletic, but I’m not sure I should have gone this far.”
Pippa smiled at us all, happily, it seemed, baring her breasts, “You’re not too far, Becky. Would anyone like another wine. Or a beer for you, Justin?”
There were stammered ‘yeses’ and ‘if you don’t minds’ (the latter from my stunned-into-politeness brother) and to my amazement, little Pips wandered happily to the kitchen and back with fresh drinks, handing them out to all of us, and coming perilously close to brushing a bare breast across Justin’s eager, shell-shocked face as she set his beer by his side.
Before I could let things go any further it was Rachael who turned to Justin and said, pointedly, “So let’s get Pippa back to normal and give the disbeliever a go, huh?”
Justin took a last lingering look at the near-naked Pippa, before nodding with a look that I interpreted as uncertainty. He was either so well conned that he believed it was true and was worried, or he was trying to work out how far he should take things by feigning belief. Either way it was good by me, and I followed Rachael’s suggestions and got Pippa back into her clothes and into ‘real life’, the turned to my brother.
Pippa was determined to make the act perfect, “Well it didn’t work much on me, so I don’t blame him for doubting.”
“Er, yes, Pips. Whatever, my lovely friend. Now you,” I turned back to Justin who was clearly having even more doubts, “Ready?”
When he finally nodded I went through the same relaxation spiel I had used on Pippa adding a little bit about ‘kind control’. I hadn’t quite got to the bit where I would tell him he was ‘now under my control’ when his head dipped forward twice before dropping a third time and staying there. He was keen to show off, I gave him that.
“Well, girls,” I said, “Looks like we have us a second zombie, and I think this one might be even more eager to show off. Even more,” I added, looking quizzically at the now-blushing Pippa.
“So let’s get his t-shirt off,” Rachael suggested, “and his jeans!”
“And his boxers!” Pippa added, blushing even more.
“He might,” I said slowly, “just enjoy it rather than it making…” I stopped not wishing to mention revenge because he clearly wouldn’t really be under my spell. “That is, yeah we’ll do all that then make him play some?”
The girls waved their phones at me, “We’re ready to record,” Rachael grinned.
“Come on,” Pippa agreed, “I had… that is, I’m sure you embarrassed me, right?”
I admired how she kept the secret, and it was because I wanted to please my two friends, really, that I turned to Justin and said simply, “Strip now, all of it.”
I kind of knew he would undress willingly in front of all of us, but I had imagined he might tease a little. Instead he just removed everything and dropped it into an armchair. It didn’t stop the whistles from Rachael and Pippa when his admittedly rather escort ankara attractive and rock hard cock came into view. Or another round of whistles when I suggested — okay, told him — to start stroking that elegant cock.
Phones were being held at very odd angles to get the best shots and Justin was stroking faster when I started to wonder something. “Justin,” I said, “will you do anything I say now?”
“Are you really hypnotised?”
I had no idea whether the answer to that question really held any weight, but when ‘Yes, Becky’ came as a response, something weird happened in my belly. Okay, and I was starting to find the show just a tiny bit…. appealing.
“If that’s true…” Pippa started, then changed tack, “Justin… whose… which of us that is… how many of us have you seen topless and whose tits do you find nicest?
I went to shush her, but she beat me to it and Justin smiled as he played with his engorged cock, “Two of you.” He was either giving the game away or he’d peeked at a sleepover. My thoughts shut off as he added an answer to the second part of Pippa’s questions, “Yours are real cute, Pippa, but Becky’s are perfect.”
“Uhgt,” I said, or something similar, as my heart rate rose to hummingbird levels. When he started stroking faster as he added, “I loved seeing them so much the other day,” I repeated ‘uhgt’ and tried my hardest not to let a wave of weird desire flood me.
Pippa was taking over control now, “Have you ever seen them before?”
“Maybe a few times…” Justin said slowly.
My friend was eager now, “You mean you spied on Becky?”
“Yes,” he finally answered.
While Pippa got details, I stared in something like horror. Justin would never admit something like that unless… unless he really was under. And I really hoped no one would ever put me under because right at that second I was loving what I was hearing. And seeing.
I’d never given Justin a second’s thought in any way sexual and now I was staring at him playing with his gorgeous cock and talking about me, my bare tits. When he replied to some Pippa-led question or other with ‘I saw her pussy clear as day as well, yeah’ I started to whimper I think, and when he added ‘yeah, I masturbated thinking about it’ I almost lost control and let him see everything again. But the girls were there… I tried to distract things — my own mind included — and I butted in — “We haven’t set a re-engagement phrase.”
Pippa nodded and grinned at the naked Justin, “Whenever Becky says ‘a stuntman dressed as Robin’ you will be under her control again, okay?”
“Yes, Pippa,” Justin said, but his eyes were on me, “Can I come now?”
Pippa nudged me, “A real fan there. Kinky but cute. What a cock, huh?”
I knew I couldn’t say ‘yes’ but it was hard, so to speak, “Just glad he won’t remember any of this. I was desperately trying not to pull my skirt up or my top down as Justin’s jerks become almost frantic.
“Oh,” Pippa said, “We never told him he wasn’t to remember anything. Good job we didn’t start You-Tube recording. Oh Becky, look! Pre-cum!”
I barely heard anything and certainly didn’t need to be told to look. As pre-cum turned to the real thing and Justin spurted right there in front of me — of us — I had the hardest time not starting to play myself. It was so good to watch, I had to admit. So very good… there I’d said it.
Rachael and Pippa tried to get me to admit I loved the show as we got Justin to dress again, but they settled for an ‘it was kinda nice’, and had a prolonged giggling fit over that.
But all giggling aside, I know this has been a little light on my reaction really, and that represents the way I felt. It was all such a shock to me — realising that I enjoyed it when I realised that him seeing me naked was a turn on for him, and realising that seeing him stand there, naked and playing with that hard and rather large cock, was doing very weird things to my insides. I might be light on comment here, but believe me, by the time the girls had finished giggling and were preparing to leave, I was decidedly wet.
Of course, knowing that Justin could really fall under a hypnotic spell didn’t help my situation in the slightest so when Pippa leaned past me and whispered to my brother ‘We have to go and visit a stuntman dressed as Robin’, I didn’t so much squeal in protest as in fright.
The door closed behind my friends and I turned to see my brother, my Justin, standing slackly before me. I could do anything, couldn’t I?
With more trepidation than I can ever remember me experiencing I lost a major moral argument with myself and hesitantly said to Justin, “Your… sh… shirt and j… jeans… take them off!”
My little brother complied immediately and without any form of protest, and then there he was, standing in just boxers, an erection all too evident inside them. I argued with myself for what seemed like hours but was really only a minute or two. He had, after all, deliberately set out to expose me and he had so obviously enjoyed it. Had I really done the same to him with my friends? Not really since Pippa had taken off her thing mostly so that still left me trailing, right? And besides, he got far more pleasure out of it all, yeah?
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