The Book

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Foreplay: This story, longer than my usual ones, is based on fantasy erotic hypnosis but is, I hope, quite feasible. If you don’t like hypno fantasy please abandon now, otherwise enjoy! It’s a complete story with no planned second episode, however depending on the voting and feedback I may do a spin-off. As ever, all characters are over 18.


In almost every life there are pivotal points; weeks, days, hours, minutes and even seconds when something happens that changes our lives forever. My pivotal point was when I found a 4 by 6 inch postcard.

‘You were out when we called’ said the Parcels-R-Us card on the mat as I arrived back from work, ‘We’ve left your item at no. 17’

Fortunately Elaine was in when I called round, “Oh, yes, here you are Ray,” said Elaine, “It arrived a couple of hours ago. He was a really nice man. I asked him if he’d like a coffee but he said he had a lot more calls to do.”

Elaine gave me the cardboard package, then went on to talk for 5 minutes without hardly taking a breath. A lovely lady, our neighbour, but difficult to get away from, a youthful looking 62 years old and a godsend if you wanted to know local news, what tomorrow’s weather would be (according to her corns), the state of the economy, how many asylum seekers had sneaked unnoticed into the country this month, how many euros there were to the pound, or any of a plethora of useless bits of information she’d gleaned during years of gossiping in the local community. Oh, and not forgetting, very useful for accepting parcels while you were out.

“Anything interesting?” she always asked, in the hope she’d glean a tiny scrap of new gossip. “It’s marked Bookazon, so presumably its a book.” I told you, Elaine misses nothing.

“Oh, it’s just a study book. Nothing much.” I lied, but she knew I was always sending away for this or that book.

“You seem to read a lot,” Elaine was still prodding.

“That’s because I want to better myself,” I said, still not giving anything away.

I finally got away from Elaine with the excuse that I’d some studying to do and I’d an exam the following day. It was a part-time postal business studies course but I hoped it would get me at least a start. Shortly after I’d turned 18 I got a job as a trainee in a superstore warehouse but that was just to get a foot in the door. The company was well known for promotion from within, especially if you didn’t mind relocating and I hoped my enthusiasm and dedication would show me as a candidate if any job cropped up.

Round at home I ripped off the distinctive cardboard packaging and pulled out the paperback book, ‘The Dumbo Guide to Hypnosis’. I had been looking for ‘The Dumbo Guide to Fucking Your Sister’, but so far it hasn’t been published. Hopefully I soon wouldn’t need it. I liked the Dumbo series, simple to follow. With a cushion plumped up behind me and a cold can of supermarket best lager in my hand (a perk of my job with the 10% staff discount and sometimes more if it was nearing ‘best before’) I settled down to read and learn.

So absorbed in the book was I that I didn’t hear the key in the latch. I did hear the lounge door open though and in a panic I tried stuff the book behind the cushion.

“What have you got there?” asked Mandy, my sister who is 3 years older than me. She too missed very little.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to ensure the book was hidden.

“Oh, nothing?” asked big sister, “So I suppose it fell out of this Bookazon package before it arrived here?” she added, rather sarcastically. “You’d better email them to complain, then you can get a refund for ‘nothing’. Come on, it’s unlikely to be the Beginners Guide to Porn, as you’re more of a connoisseur than a beginner.

“Can’t you go and find some needful girl to fuck?” I snarled at her, “And leave me alone.”

“Well, can’t you go and wank your brains out. With the teeny weeny size of both your little willie and your brain it should only take two tugs. And don’t even THINK of messing up a pair of my knickers from the dirty linen because I’ve already pissed in them all.”

“Have too many alcopops, then did you? Couldn’t wait for wee wees? Piss your knickers and let it stream down your legs to your tiny white ankle socks, little girl?”

“Fuck you,” Mandy spat, her middle finger raised. “Now what are you hiding? Hmmm?”

“What about it? Going to have to tell mummy are we?” I replied.

“Fuck you again,” snorted big sister, repeating the signal.

“Any time you want. Shouldn’t take much to fuck your tiny brain till it frazzles. You can fuck me anytime. Just make sure your dirty cunt hasn’t still got any of your boyfriend’s snotty cum still inside it. Which one of the six was it last night, eh? Or was it all six taking turns?”

“Just shut your shitty mouth,” Mandy growled, lunging at me, grabbing my arm, trying to drag me off the armchair. Changing tack she came at me from the front, trying to move me by tickle torture just under my ribs. It nearly always worked and it did right bahis firmaları now. Damn, she knew just where to jab, a weak spot she’d known about for years. Trying to push her away I slipped off the chair and on to the carpet.

Mandy grabbed the book, holding it aloft lest I recover. But I’d fallen awkwardly and it hurt.

“Dumbo Guide eh? Dumbo guide for a dummy boy and who ya gonna hypnotise dummy boy?”

“Just thought it might be interesting,” I stuttered, rubbing my arm. Ohmygod Mandy had a well short skirt on and I decided to stay put. Wrong move.

“Oh dear, little Ray. Are you trying to peek up my skirt?” In one move sis dropped down, knees astride me, book still in hand. “And what you gonna do with this book? You gonna try to hypnotise your big sister? Make her your slave? It’s a load of crap anyway, I’m far too smart for that.” She tossed it away. “Now little brother, what do you get for planning to trick me?

“No, Mandy, not there. No, no, please.” Tickle torture was Mandy’s prime weapon ever since I was a kid. Always taller than me, and usually fitter than me, it started as a game and, sometimes, when Mandy was in a playful mood it was still a game. On a good day I could push her off or roll over and get on top. Not now though, I’d taunted her and even though she started it she was angry, adrenalin pumping through her.

“You sorry yet? “

“No, fuck off.”

Mandy shuffled a little further down to secure my legs and at the same time moved her fingers slightly. So intent was she on making me uncomfortable I don’t think she noticed the tickle touches were now in quite a sensitive place combined with her pussy right above the zip of my pants. Had she kept still I’m sure all would have been well. With the movements, well, let’s just say it had an unpredicted effect. It had happened before but this time Mandy either got bored or she suddenly realised what had happened. Probably just as well because first mum arrived home, shortly followed by dad. We ate then I scooted up to my room for some serious online gaming.


A week went by. I was still on early shift in the warehouse and each day I was home by 3 o’clock and reading my new book. Mandy hadn’t said anything about me getting a hard-on but hadn’t said any more about my book. Maybe it was a case of out of sight, out of mind, but with the book there in my hand she started to goad me.

“Oh, little brother still likes to think he can hypnotise big sister so he can get his teeny weeny inside her?”

“What’s up with you? Fallen out with your girlfriend? Won’t she kiss you? Oh dear, come and kiss little brother then.”

“Give me that book then I can throw it in the trash where it deserves to go.”

I was ready and waiting this time. As she tried to grab the book I switched hands, caught her off balance as she again tried to grab and we both landed on the floor. This time I was on top and I had the element of surprise. Unluckily for Mandy, as she landed her skirt rode up and I got an all too brief look at her knickers.

“Is that OK for you, little perv? Want a photo of my knickers then you can go wank your two inches.”

“Seven inches actually, and that’s just when I take a piss and yes, I would like a photo.”

“You wish.”

I had Mandy pinned down this time, knelt astride her with her arms held down. “How about a kiss from me then?”

“In your dreams, little boy, in your dreams.” She gave one big push but, for once, I had gravity on my side. It didn’t last long. “Hmmm, not as smart as Mandy, eh? You want to wrestle, little brother, we’ll wrestle.”

The book, for the time being, lay on the chair seat and forgotten. I rolled again, the two of us as close as lovers. I lay forward, chest to tits, the remnants of that morning’s perfume invading my nostrils – most likely a CK smell-alike from the discount store. A pleasurable feeling passed through me – whatever cheap crap the perfume was, it aroused this inexperienced male.

“Are you going to get off my tits before you cum in your pants?” Mandy gave a heave and once again she was on top. I was hard, and big sister despite her taunts had a good idea what was packed inside my pants. “Hmm, maybe not mister two inch after all, but if you think that book is gonna work, dream on.”

“I can dream all I want and about who I want, without any permission from you.” My god, Mandy was on top of me and not moving. Was I dreaming or what? It didn’t last, or rather I didn’t make it last. A quick push and twist and I was where I was before, pressing against her tits. This time I gave her a peck on the lips.

“You can fucking stop that. Just because you got a boner doesn’t mean you get a kiss as well.”

“Oh, sweet sister, admit it. I got a hard on and you’re getting horny!”

“Dream again, dream boy.”

“Whatever. But you’re gonna be in my dreams tonight.”

“Well what about that? I’m gonna be in someone’s dreams,” big sis said, sarcastically. “And that’s the closest you’ll ever get.”

“Hmm, kaçak iddaa just a few millimetres of clothes. I wonder if I can get rid of those. Oh, and by the way, your nipples tell me different.” Through the soft fabric of her bra and the cotton of her blouse Mandy’s plump nipples clearly pushed through. She pushed me away and conceded defeat. “Hey, I won. Now how about that photo?”

“One photo. Just one. And you keep off my back all evening. And it stays in this house, no duplicates, no sharing. OK?”

“OK. But your nipples don’t lie. Remember that.” I grabbed my phone, zoomed the max I could. That photo was good for a hundred wanks.


On Friday there was another parcel left with Elaine, this time by Royal Mail as it was just too big for the postie to put through our letterbox. The postman, nearing retirement, often stopped for a chat with Elaine. Having walked the streets of our estate and beyond he was the main source of both local news and gossip. The scribble on the card he left just said ‘with Elaine’ though even this was barely decipherable.

Elaine gave me the oversized thick envelope, possibly music copies for the male voice choir dad sang with. “Was your hypnosis book interesting?” she asked.

“How the …? ” I began. I knew Elaine didn’t have a computer, let alone access to Bookazon on the Internet.

“You were really cagey about it, so I figured it might be something interesting. Someone had accidentally left the barcode on the label and my kind granddaughter looked it up for me.”

‘Cheeky bitch,’ I thought, ‘but she’s so helpful I can’t say anything. “Oh, it’s just something that interests me,” which was all I was going to say.

“Have you got time for a coffee?” asked Elaine. That was a cue I knew well, she wanted to tell me off, no doubt, or warn me of the risk of becoming an evil hypnotist.

“Sure,” I said. Elaine didn’t do cheap. The coffee, though instant, would be good and the accompanying biscuit would be from the local deli – home made.

We’d been talking for several minutes before she came to the point. “Zara, (her granddaughter) tells me that hypnosis can be used for some really good things, insomnia, stopping tobacco nicotine craving and even helping with pain.”

I nodded. “Yes, the book lists some uses, but that’s well advanced.” Elaine passed me another buttery biscuit.

“But, if you can understand the book, and if you can manage to hypnotise someone, then you could look it up on the Internet, couldn’t you? Zara says there’s all sorts of stuff on there.”

“Well, yes. But I’d need to read and understand the book and be able to get a volunteer to try it out. Would Zara offer?”

Elaine laughed, a very hearty laugh for which she was well known. “You quite fancy Zara, don’t you? You never took your eyes off her last time she was here.”

She was right. Zara was born around half way between me and Mandy. I just smiled.

“I thought so, Ray. Now what would you say to her?”

I laughed too. “Seduce her while she’s in lala land? No. I like her, but not in that way.”

Elaine gave me that look that clearly said ‘I don’t believe you.’ “But if you can look up how to ease arthritis pain, you can try with me.”

They say looks can skip a generation and Zara was a stunner, quite obviously created with the help of grandma’s genes. Had grandma been 15 years younger I’d certainly have been interested. I’d heard of MILFS, … but GILFS?

“Zara looks a lot like you,” I said, pointing to a photo on the shelf.

“How about another coffee while I get the photo album out?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” I answered, smiling. I’d always liked looking at family photos.

“Here,” said Elaine, having pulled an album and several packets of photos from a cupboard. “Some are arranged but others just got mixed up,” Elaine explained, “You know how it is, you go looking for a particular photo and some get put back in the wrong place. Anyhow, have a look through while I’m making the coffee.”

I’d quickly flicked through some of the packets which seemed to be of this family get-together or that family holiday, the sort of thing you’d find in many homes. Then the phone rang and Elaine apologised that my coffee would be delayed. More holidays photos but in this packet were three apparently taken abroad, of Elaine on the beach, topless.

“Oh heavens ,” said Elaine, having finished the phone call. She placed the coffee on a mat and another two biscuits in front of me. “How embarrassing, I do apologise.”

I smiled, still looking at the three photos. “You’re absolutely beautiful,” I said, putting them back in the packet.

“Thank you, Ray,” she said, touching my hand. Tears appeared in her eye, “Those are three of the last photos John took of me before he died. They must have got mixed up with other photos.” Tears flowed faster as she reached for a tissue, “Thank you Ray, I’ve looked a few times trying to find them.” She took the packet and pulled out the photos again, laying them kaçak bahis in front of me. “You can see the similarity even more in this photo,” she went on, passing the photo of Zara over. “OK, there’s still a few years between us – I was just 50 when these three were taken, in Spain, but you can see the similarity. That is if you stop looking at my boobs.” Elaine laughed again, “Maybe if you’re good with my arthritis I might show you some of Zara.”

“You have some of … No .. . She wouldn’t … Surely?”

“We don’t have any hangups, unlike many families.”

I just smiled. “OK.”

When I got back home – just next door – time had flown past. Mandy was soon back from work and both of us were in a good mood. I told her of my conversation with Elaine, excluding the topless photos.

“You mean hypnosis can HELP somebody, not just turn them into mindless puppets speaking Martian.”

“Of course,” I said, “I was talking to someone in the warehouse who quit smoking by seeing a hypnotist.”

“Hmm, I still don’t see a Dumbo Guide being of any use. And you’re still not going to be able to do me with that mumbo jumbo.”

“How about a wrestle?”

“Oh no, that was a one-off. Anyway mum and dad are due back.”

“OK, tomorrow then?”

“No. Go read your book.”

In my room later in the evening I realised I’d quite forgotten about the photo on my phone. I copied it to my laptop and zoomed right in. Mandy’s knickers had a darker area where her juices had flowed. I was right; during our rough and tumble she’d got more horny than she’d admitted. They weren’t at the top of the dirty linen basket, but it didn’t take me long to find them. As I guessed, there was a residual fragrance that helped my unload my cum store in record time. I tucked her knickers under my pillow – nothing like a good wank to help me sleep.


Mum had been looking forward to the long weekend at a posh hotel, with a spa, beautiful grounds and some sixties entertainment each evening. It was a belated wedding anniversary treat and even dad was ready for a peaceful break.

Mandy was out all Saturday morning and most of the afternoon, clothes shopping with a friend. Oh to be a fly in those changing rooms. I could dream. When she got back with a load of posh store carrier bags I was glad I didn’t yet have a credit card or bank overdraft to tempt me into debt.

I’d spent much of the morning talking to myself, rehearsing chunks of text from my book and some time on the web looking at how to use hypno skills to cure pain. It couldn’t be done – massage and drugs could offset pain but hypnosis could only help coping with it. It was all above my mental capacity, so I went back to my simple Dumbo book.

After an early sandwich lunch I took the book round to Elaine. “Sorry, Elaine, I looked up hypno pain relief but it will take me time to re-read it and practice. If you want, though, you can help me practice my new skill.”

“Of course I will. Coffee first?” she asked, already walking toward the kettle.

“Yes please, but you’ll be getting me addicted to caffeine.”

“And overweight from eating the biscuits,” she added, smiling.

I noticed the three photos were still on the table. I picked one up.

“I thought you’d have put these out of my sight,” I remarked.

A wide grin appeared on Elaine’s face as she placed the coffee and two of the delicious biscuits on the table in front of me. “Why? You said I looked beautiful, not disgusting for baring my boobs on the beach. I was looking at them after you left and, yes, I did shed a few more tears.”

“You must have really loved John.”

“Oh yes, I cried for weeks after he died. It was cancer – he should have seen the doctor earlier but he wouldn’t go. Then it was too late.”

“Just give me five minutes,” I said, “I saw something on the Internet hypnosis pages that might help you remember that time on the beach.”

“Can you?” she asked, “Can you really?”

I smiled, “I don’t know, but I can try.”

“That’s all I ask, but I’m willing for you to hypnotise me to see. I’d love to be able to remember when John took that last photo.” Tears were in her eyes again. This wasn’t at all what I expected when I ordered the book, but it seemed a fair chance to try it out.

I quickly looked up and printed out not one but two scripts that I thought might help.

Elaine was sat in a comfortable chair as I began, “Just look at something on the wall. It could be anything, but just keep watching and breathe deeply. Let yourself relax.” I followed the example word for word … “walking down the staircase, relaxing with every step … 9, 10, to a beach, in the warm sunshine, sat on a sun lounger …”.

I was surprised. All I’d done was read from a script and adapt the last part to relaxing on a beach. I continued. “It’s a beautiful warm day and you really don’t need your bikini top, so you take it off. It gives you so much pleasure that you don’t even think about it. All you seek is comfort and someone you know wants to take a photo of you. You can remember everything as if it was yesterday. Can you remember Elaine?”

“Yes, beach, photo, yes. Bolonia, we walked, hot.” Her words were just like a sigh.

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