The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter Two: Hot and Cold

And after sandwiches and a brief demo/explanation by Bobbi (in which she sat uncomfortably close) on how she created and used subliminals; she made preparations to go the pool. As for myself, given that I wouldn’t be swimming, I had little to do so I thought over recent developments. I didn’t like being her guinea pig, although I had to admit, given what she had told me, subliminals did work. My problem was that while it went on I had no idea my thoughts were being tampered with.

Of course, even the article in the book that I thumbed through seemed to say it was only effective on pre-existing sub conscious thoughts and when undergoing stimulus directly related to the messages themselves. For example, a subliminal message for buying popcorn wouldn’t work if you weren’t already hungry and only if there was popcorn within the vicinity. The efficacy was entirely conditional.

She stepped back in to the room then. She was wearing sandals, a one piece with a t shirt over it, sunglasses, and had an uninflated plastic pool raft in her hands. She gestured with the raft. “Ahem.”

I groaned as loudly as possible. “By the time I get it inflated it will almost be closing time, you know that right? You won’t be able to tan that much.”

“Oh see, that is where you are wrong, dear brother. This isn’t about tanning, this is about being fab, or should I say, being seen to be fab.”

I stared at the rinky-dink inflatable raft as she gave it to me and thought of the sorry state of the pool outside and chuckled. I decided to mess with her a little. “That mean the shirt is coming off while you look fab in your one piece outside?”

She folded her arms across her chest and gave me a dangerous look. “Absolutely not!” Her expression then became dementedly evil. “Unless you are trying to check out your little sister. Hmm, is that it, Bubba?” I just shook my head and kept inflating the raft.

After we made it outside I sat at the pool, listening to 80’s new wave songs on my phone that my sister had inserted some aural messages inside of that she said she created to aid in concentration and made a deeper read at the websites she had given me to peruse earlier. I thought of her and looked up from my phone and saw her as she floated by on a plastic raft, only her rubber band encased black ponytail was in the water. In addition to the pointed lack of swimming on her part, given that she was wearing a sturdy long sleeved T shirt over her one-piece swimsuit outside in the waning light of day, she couldn’t have been there to tan either.

Girls were weird, I concluded and then turned my attention to the two young guys perched near the fence around the pool, both of them failing to not ogle my sister’s legs. There was no crime in looking, I supposed. Had I not checked out Stacy in class hours before this? In my studies hadn’t I learned that males process information visually, whereas females did aurally; thus the old saw about men falling in love with their eyes and women falling in love with their ears. Guys were going to look, the were biologically programmed to do that. So long as those boys did nothing untoward, I would ignore them.

I returned to the idea of the difference between sexes and maybe that was why Bobbi seemed confused about what they could do. According to the book, the impact of subliminal messages was cumulative but it should result in some changes to behavior in the short term, there were no published studies I found on the long term effects. I had been listening to these songs she’d been giving me for weeks, and it was only now they worked even partially. I had to admit being a young man, it was entirely possible my interest in girls at college had nothing to do with subliminal messages at all, anyway. I doubted these could be used reliably to relieve anxiety.

Perhaps, in my case, I required more visual stimuli, but that was okay, it just meant once Bobbi was ready she would respond even more strongly to sound. That idea then led to considerations of hypnotism and using my voice to help her with relaxation and even diminishing this dread she had with getting on stage.

Anxiety sucked, as I well knew. I had been dealing with my own since elementary school, though I am certain nearly losing my sister really kicked it into high gear in middle school. Mostly fear of abandonment, or so I diagnosed myself, hah! It is what made me so clingy towards those I loved, and so protective against strangers, afraid I would grow to like them and that they would leave me then and hurt me or the people I cared about. That was all just supposition and guessing on my part, but I was certain that I had made psychology my college major because I wanted to face my own fears and foibles, I was tired of running from them. If I could use it to help Bobbi, even better. I checked on her again, and she just floated along same as before. Her slightly tanned legs moving just enough to propel her through the water.

I rubbed my eyes and looked back at my phone and decided I would practice some hypnotic induction on her after we got back in my apartment. Even if my skill with it was awful, I could pair it with subliminal messages and increase the overall effectiveness, although again I had to admit to my own ignorance. It certainly helped that Bobbi was so willing, but who knew, I could just as easily screw something up. That thought reminded me of something else. I closed out the website I was looking at and turned the sound off on my phone.

“Hey, float over here why don’t ya?” I had to be loud to insure she heard me over the sounds of the MP3 player she was listening to. I walked over to the edge of the pool and Bobbi, in the greatest display of laziness I had ever witnessed, dipped her feet in the water over the sides of her little raft and slowly bobbed herself over towards me. I just shook my head and watched. Her toenails were painted hot pink, I only noticed because of her feet slowly pushing her through the water. This was done, of course, because of the way her toned thighs and calves flexed. So, she was getting in some exercise to top it all off. Just when I felt like I was going to say something; she used her hands to help glide faster across the surface. This new motion made me realize that her blue long-sleeved shirt matched the blue of her blue and white checkered one piece, which then matched the cheap blue raft.

‘Surely she couldn’t have color coordinated everything, right,’ I thought to myself.

“Could have just waited, bubba. They are going to be closing the pool pretty soon, and you know I need to work on my tan for the play.” She peered at me over the lenses of her plastic sun glasses. I just looked at her shirt and shrugged. She always wore shirts over her swimsuits, thus if she tanned at all it would just be her face and legs. Hell; even I as a chubby guy wore less shirts to the beach and pool than she did. That is why I teased her earlier, and had thought about asking her why, but the mere mental notion of my sister and her undoubtedly odd tan lines made me feel strangely ill and uncomfortable, so I went with my original reason for calling her over.

“Why don’t you just do your own subliminal messages? Wouldn’t that be more effective?”

The eyes peering from above those sunglasses rolled with succinct disdain. I laughed at her usual snarky antics, but I did not appreciate the feeling of being curved. “Because if I do something consciously it will have little to no impact on the subconscious, fam. It can only work when done by someone else and usually only when the person doesn’t know about it unless it is reinforcing something they already subconsciously desire. That’s why I had to use you as a guinea pig.”

My smile turned to a look of stunned horror as a thought entered my brain from nowhere. ‘Fucking sarcastic bitch.’ I yanked the buds from my ears, as maybe it was a song lyric I had heard. But no, I had turned the sound down on my phone to have this conversation. I looked around just to be certain I hadn’t overheard someone nearby.

“You okay bubba?” I ignored her and shook my head, trying to clear it. Whatever that was made me feel queasy so I sat down and put my feet in the pool. She slid from the raft and pulled herself to the edge of the pool and up over on to the concrete. “Look at me.” I couldn’t meet her eyes, such was the shame I felt, so she grabbed my face and pulled it towards her. “You’re so pale bubba. You sure you’re not sick?”

The sadness in her voice snapped me out of it, though I couldn’t help but notice the tinge of what I could only describe as resignation in her tone also. “Maybe I stood up too fast,” I lied, “just let me clear my head for a sec.” She nodded and leaned in, wrapping her arms around one of mine.

We sat like that for a few moments until she said, “lets get you out of the sun, okay?” She stood without letting my arm go, basically tugging me upwards the entire time. After I stood up, she gathered our things and pushed me forward gently by the same arm, though I stopped to look back at the raft still in the pool, this motion caused her chest to squish against mine and my arm as she leaned in to me to whisper, “forget about that bubba. Just come with me.”

I moved along slowly with her attached and thought of girls I had seen out with their boyfriends, enjoying themselves in public pressed against them just as my sister was doing to me. It always struck me as a very loving and intimate gesture. Though perhaps inappropriate in this context, given that my sister was only wearing a shirt and a bathing suit that felt like it had next to no padding in it. At that moment I noticed what I thought was her right nipple rubbing against my arm, and it almost felt as though it was hardening.

“Getting chilly out here,” she said, mirroring my thoughts. We passed through the gate and I paid no attention to the two chumps looking on. I admit to being naïve, but not even I could buy the idea that she didn’t feel the contact. It then hit me that my loving sister had believed my lie, and was so concerned over my light- headedness she didn’t realize what she was doing or even that I was cognizant of this level of physical contact.

This made me feel really guilty; first I had that ugly thought, then I lied to cover that up which made her more concerned, and now I was fiending over some misconstrued contact made only out of her familial love for me. I was so disgusted with myself I wanted to rip my arm out of her grip and run off. But I knew that would hurt her badly. My only recourse was to spare her the hurt and accept my own shame. I purposefully pressed my arm in to her breasts even further and kept on walking.

“Go lay down.” I hadn’t even realized we were inside my apartment. I had left the hideaway bed out and thus there was no problem getting on that mattress. Once there she placed a hand on my forehead. “I don’t think you are running a fever.” She leaned over and looked in my eyes. My gaze stayed locked on hers while my hands blindly fluttered about in an attempt to find a blanket to settle over my lap. We stared at each other for longer than I liked and yet not long enough. Then she straightened up.

“I thought you were going to pass out, bubba. You really scared me. Are you thirsty? Hungry? Need me to turn the air down?”

“I think- I think I need to take a nap.”

“Okay then, I’ll be quiet. I’m gonna take a quick shower and change clothes. Yell if you need me.” With that she left the room. I rubbed furiously at my eyes yet again and wondered why they felt so heavy. Laid out, trying to stretch, I realized how sore I was, almost as if I had been in a fight. Mystified and yet doggedly determined to remember the feeling of my sister pressed against me, I went to sleep trying to visualize what it was I thought I felt as we walked back from the pool.

I don’t recall what I dreamed but I do know I was happy to have the blanket bunched up around me when I awoke to find my sister sitting at the end of the bed.

She was typing away at her laptop, and with my vision still blurry I couldn’t make out what it was except that it looked almost like HTML. I knew she wanted to study coding but didn’t realize she might have gotten proficient with it. I started to ask her when she turned and saw that I wasn’t asleep anymore. She closed her laptop and set it aside and smiled at me.

“So you’re awake. That’s good. Feeling better now?”

I looked her over quickly as I decided on my reply. She had changed out of her swimsuit, but was now in her basic, casual shirt and shorts combo. I sat up and said “Yeah feeling better but I think I need a shower now too. Lemme get cleaned up and we can talk. If you don’t mind, while I’m in there, I’d really like to change the sheet and blanket on this raggedy bed here. If you could help, I’d appreciate it.” No harm in milking my supposed near collapse, plus I did not turn my head when she reached out to grab the blanket. Her shorts were thin enough, the outline of her bikini styled panties clearly visible. I had just turned on the hot water in the shower when I realized what I had done.

“What the fuck is wrong with me,” I whispered to myself. I had a horrible suspicion right then and there, and I tried to reject it both mentally and bodily; and by that I mean I turned the hot water in the shower off and killed the half formed erection I had. I lowered myself in the tub and I sat shivering, a dull pain in my testicles and the image of Bobbi bent over naked still in my mind.

I walked back to the living room gingerly. The bed was already pushed back in to the couch, for which I was grateful. It didn’t take long for Bobbi to notice my odd gait. “Umm, bubba—“

I held up my hands. “I’m fine, almost slipped in the shower but all good.” I sat down and exhaled, my balls no doubt the color of the raft we left in the pool. My sister leaned back against the arm of the couch, propped her head in her hand and spoke.

“Don’t get mad, but I need you to know I called mom and dad while you were asleep and told them you got a little dizzy out at the pool. They said it was fine if I stayed the weekend here and kept an eye on you, so I don’t want any arguments. Just let me help you, alright, if nothing else, as repayment for all the times you’ve helped me.”

This meant having her over for the weekend, which was fine, it was not like I had any other plans, but I definitely was not going back out to the pool with her any time soon, plus she had to know what I had figured out. “That’s good, Bobbi. No pool for me though, not for a while. Don’t want anymore, umm, dizzy spells. Also, these subliminal messages, I want to put a stop to them. I know you are anxious, but there are other, more reliable ways—“

“Like hypnosis?” She sat up, placed a cushion on her lap and leaned towards me. “I’ve read up on it some, they say its great for relaxation and relieving stress. I know I really pushed this subliminal messages idea, but if you feel comfortable with hypnotizing me,” I barely heard the last part, “then I trust you to handle me properly.”

“Yes Bobbi, I was thinking of hypnosis, though I have never done it and don’t have a clue as to how it’s really done. If you are willing to work with me, we can start tomorrow.”

“How about tonight? I do have some sites on hypnosis bookmarked on my laptop.” I just laughed in reply, until my balls hurt and then I stopped.

“Okay let me look one over, I know enough to at least judge if they are legit.” I was surprised to see I didn’t have to search long. The first one I clicked on dealt with various methods of induction, which was simply the means by which a subject was brought in to a hypnotic trance. Out of all the methods listed, I thought visualization might be the easiest. Seemed simple enough for just a test.

“Bobbi I want you to picture in your mind the scene I describe, and tell me if you are comfortable with it, then we can proceed from there. But first I want you to lean back, close your eyes, and let me know when you are comfortable.”

She did as instructed. “I’m ready,” she breathed as if almost asleep.

“Picture a cute puppy—“

“Nope.”

“A bunny—“

“Nope.”

“A serene lake—“

“Nope.”

And on and on and on, through all the classics, the clichés (and for all I knew) all the hip new fads. I actually got lucky with the last one.

“Alright, picture yourself climbing a mountain then.”

“Mmmm.” I didn’t know what that meant, I just knew it wasn’t a nope. Where to go though? Climbing a mountain was a struggle, could it be she found that relaxing?

“You are wearing your hiking clothes. On your back is a large bag.” Where in the hell was I going with this? “In the bag are many heavy stones, all of them weighing you down. Each stone is a feeling fear you’ve felt, a feeling of anxiety, of doubt, of shame. You remove a stone, you drop it, it rolls down the mountain, you take one step upward. You remove another stone, you drop it, it rolls down the mountain, you take one step upward. As the load in the bag decreases, you feel yourself become lighter. You remove a stone, you drop it, it rolls down the mountain, you feel yourself become more free. Each stone is a feeling of fear, anxiety, doubt or shame.”

This repeated until all that moved in the room was my voice and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. I honestly did not know how to end this without screwing something up. I knew that in trance a hypnotized subject could mimic or physically carry out certain commands, might as well try. “Bobbi, you are nearly at the top of the mountain, but in your way is another stone. Reach out in front of you and grab it.” I waited for her hand to find the cushion on her lap. “Cast aside the stone.” She flung it across the room. “It rolls down the mountain. Take a step upward,” she did just that, leaving a leg cocked in the air. “You stand atop the mountain.” I smiled, and then noticed that with her leg in the air a gap had opened in her shorts and her red silk panties were clearly on display.

I stared and then my fingers stirred.

To Be Continued