It's A Kind Of Magic

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A hobby leads to a close relationship with his sister.
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grumpyg
grumpyg
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Foreplay: This is another of my hypno stories, about a brother and sister but not totally exclusive to their relationship and involves others.

For my 6th birthday mum and dad bought me my first magic set. Looking back now it was no more than a toy but it kept me happy and, apart from nagging anyone who was around to watch my very amateurish attempts to amaze, it set me up for what was to become a regular hobby. By my 9th birthday I could do simple card tricks and make coins disappear. When I turned 13 the card tricks had become very much more difficult to practice, but became equally difficult for innocent small audiences to explain away. By 'small audiences' that included aunts and uncles, cousins, mum and dad, my two older sisters Ellie and Cheryl and, when no one else wanted to watch, our crossbred dog Buster.

Further into my teens and with the help of birthday money, weekly spend and a part time job delivering newspapers, I was a regular visitor to the excellent but expensive magic supplies shop in a nearby town. The owner of the shop, old Ted, took me under his wing because I was so enthusiastic, and even started to give me the odd pound or two discount. He helped me so much to learn how to use the often complicated tricks and hammered into my brain that 'practice makes perfect' and that a successful magician spends all his available spare time perfecting his trade.

Old Ted still runs the shop, though he is near to retiring. I'm 18, almost 19 now, have a full time job but I'd love to either set up my own magic shows either for kids parties or, preferably, for an older audience. 'Britain's Got Talent' and similar TV talent shows are still some way off though. Much of my magic is done at parties and I must admit, I do get invited to a lot of them.

I was talking to Ted last year, during a quiet afternoon when the shop wasn't busy.

"Why don't you take a break in one of the Spanish resorts," he suggested, eager to give me every help he could to begin my magic career." And while you're there, check out the countless bars - one of which might give you an audition. You'll need enough tricks to put on a show, but you're really good with the card tricks. I know, I've taught you a few."

"Do you really think there's a chance? I've heard of lots of would-be performers having to work damned hard for sod all cash."

"It all depends," he went on. "Close-up card tricks could be an extra source of income. There are some very gullible people who might bet against you doing the impossible. Even a few free drinks are very welcome and would get you a cheap night out."

"But surely, if I did that regularly people would suss me out." I had doubts.

"Well, that depends on your skills. Based on what you've shown me, you shouldn't have any problems. In any case, people come and go; new flights arrive, tanned holidaymakers leave every day. There will be at least a dozen bars in every resort and as the saying goes - there's a sucker born every minute."

It was a lot to take in and he must have seen my thoughts ticking over. He continued, "A good few years ago, when I was performing magic rather than selling it, I studied some simple hypnosis tricks which I combined with the close-up tricks I did in bars."

"So you used to frequent bars as well?"

"The money and free drinks came in handy when the bills came in," he smiled, "Not to mention the attention of the ladies who appreciated my cheeky tricks."

"And your wife/ partner at the time didn't ... "

Old Ted cut me short, "I was a free spirit then, travelled a lot using only my wits and my skills. In fact I eventually settled down with one of those girls amazed by my tricks."

I laughed, "So you hypnotised her to convince her she was the one for you?"

"Hell no. In fact it was the opposite. I first met her on the beach and she tracked me down to a bar where I had a regular show. We talked, over a drink, and the rest is history."

I wasn't going to give up, "So did you hypnotise her?"

"She joined me in my act ... the ladies liked my tricks, the men liked looking at my wife in a skimpy costume."

Then my mind began working overtime. Old Ted, in his younger years, hypnotising a beautiful woman with men ogling her beautiful submissive body. I could feel a natural reaction taking place. My pocket pal began to firm up, outside of my control.

"Tell you what," Ted offered, "Stand me a drink and I'll fill you in a bit more." Then as an afterthought he added, "You are old enough to legally buy a drink, aren't you?"

I laughed, "Sure, no problem." My 18th party had passed, but I'd been drinking for quite a while before then.

We arranged to meet up at The Bearded Badger on the Friday evening. I would normally have been down town with my mates. The Badger was a quiet pub, more suited to old Ted's age group than mine. It worked out cheaper to keep Ted in drinks than to pay nightclub prices anyway.

***

It might sound strange that at my 18th party I'd provided the entertainment. OK, mum and dad provided the food, the drink and their own entertainment for the evening. Hell, we had three responsible adults to look after the house while they elsewhere - my two older sisters and me. Strike that: we had three irresponsible adults and fifteen guests who had an abundant supply of booze.

It was Cheryl who was bragging to Alex, one of her friends (yep, my party but my sisters' friends included with the invites) who is, well, I must admit an ace specimen of female flesh.

For Cheryl this was an amazingly brilliant move, "His card tricks are amazing," I heard her say. "I'll ask him if he'll show us some."

The next I knew was a pack of cards thrust in my hand. "Oh come on, Chas, just a couple of tricks." Half an hour later the party had all but stopped. Alex's jaw dropped further as each trick astounded her more. Sat in the armchair opposite me, just a coffee table between us, she demanded prime view of my every move. So absorbed in each trick she was giving me a perfect view of a very slender piece of knicker material, her skirt being micro short.

"Can you show me that one again, Chas?" she asked, leaning forward to get an even closer look. I refused to look down her cleavage, her weapons of mass distraction, until the trick was complete. Still she couldn't see my deft sleight of hand and her jaw dropped in amazement. Sitting back again in the armchair, her knickers were once again in view and - horror - she saw me looking.

"How about a bet?" I asked.

"With the tricks you do? NO WAY," was Alex's emphatic reply.

"Just 3 cards," I pushed, "It's easy. Watch."

I picked out 2 kings and the ace of hearts from the pack, showed her I'd no more concealed, picked a coin out of my pocket and pushed it just far enough across the coffee table that Alex had to lean, revealing her gorgeous cleavage.

"Ah! I get it. You just want to see my tits." She smiled, picking up the coin, "So?"

"OK, you got me," I couldn't deny. "All you have to do is place the coin on the ace and you win."

It was the age-old 3 card monte. I let Alex win several times. "OK, so now I do it a little faster," Alex seemed a good sport, "And we play for clothes. OK?"

"Hmmm," said Alex, "I've a sneaky feeling you let me win just now, but I think I can follow your hands, so OK."

OK, so now I had my shoes and socks off. Next round I won, Alex's shoes were off. Now my jeans, my boxers revealing my pleasure at the glimpses of Alex's knickers and tits.

"Wow," I like this game," said Alex. She had the best view. Cheryl simply took a sharp intake of breath, Ellie didn't make any comment. Ellie never does.

Cheryl, being only 14 months older than me and still a teenager, had seen me plenty of times with only the shower screen obstructing her view. Although the steamed up glass hid very little, she'd never seen me with a semi. There was always the 'sorry Chas' if she had to urgently use the bathroom, likewise me apologising if the roles were reversed. I dare not enter the bathroom though if Ellie was in there. 4 years older than me, Ellie was always shy and self conscious. Any nudity between Cheryl and I was acceptable, and I'll admit, mutually fun, but never with anything sexual in mind. Nothing further ... not even a kiss.

My sleight of hand became too much. Alex lost her low cut sweater and her bra. OK, it was my birthday and we'd had a drink or three but I gave Alex chance of not losing her knickers.

"OK, last try. If you win I take my sweat top off. If I win I still take my top off, but I get to snog you. OK?"

"I'm not sure," Alex decided.

"OK, so I'll do it slowly then you have an even chance."

"Well," said Alex, "I suppose it's your birthday after all, and I've enjoyed your card tricks."

Needless to say, I won. Alex's kiss was warm and real, no imitation. Without any need for words she took my hand and in the kitchen the kiss became a full-on snog, tongues and real passion.

"My," she said, "What have I been missing?" Her tits were warm against me and the passion in her kisses caused me to fully swell, my boxers giving up any effort to conceal my hardness.

"Your tits are beautiful, your kisses awesome," I muttered, reluctant as ever - I could never really get into slushy mode.

The way Alex massaged my chest with her ample tits was enough, when combined with her deep meaningful kisses, to keep me steel hard. The way she skilfully ran her fingers along its whole length meant I was only seconds away from ...

"CHAS! WHAT THE FUCK? " called Cheryl from the kitchen doorway.

"What the hell has it to do with you?" I snapped back angrily. "It's my birthday, my party, my ..."

"And what would mum or dad say if they came back?"

"Just keep it out," I snapped, equally annoyed, pointing to my nose.

Alex was justifiably upset. "Later," she told me quietly, "When children aren't around." She gave Cheryl a glare that would melt ice.

That spoiled the evening for me. It wasn't until the next day that Cheryl apologised. I'd had a long tiring day, studying, after the hectic day before. I was in my room watching TV to unwind before I called it a day.

Cheryl tapped politely before opening my room door. "I'm really sorry about what happened yesterday," she began, "I'd had a few drinks and I guess I got jealous."

"Jealous? You're my sister for god's sake, not my nanny." I was still angry.

"But Chas," she began, "We've been so close, so really close and I ...," Cheryl burst into tears, "And I, I, I ..." she stuttered, unable to form the words that were in her head. "Charles, I love you."

Only Cheryl used my Sunday name and even then when she was being totally serious, except mum and dad very occasionally and usually when I was in deep shit. "But you're my sister. It's wrong, totally wrong."

"Totally wrong to love you? Totally wrong to ... to ... to ... " Tears streamed down her face, "Totally wrong to look at you when you're in the shower, naked, toned, muscular, handsome? And yesterday, obviously aroused from looking at my best friend's tits and trying to look up her skirt? Wishing you were up there, letting her get you as horny as hell."

I stood, taking Cheryl gently in my arms. She buried her mascara streaked face against my chest, still sobbing. "I just hadn't realised how much I was hurting you."

She raised her head, "I may be your sister, Chas, but I'm a young woman, 100%, I have feelings and, to be brutally honest, when I see you in the shower and even with your shirt off in summer, I get horny. So horny sometimes I go to my bed and I have to relieve my horniness. Do you you understand now?"

I was silent for what seemed like an eternity. "Does anyone else know? I mean, you haven't spoken to Ellie about this?"

"Hell no, never. NO WAY. I'm not stupid." Cheryl paused only a few seconds. "I'm sorry, that came out all wrong. I wouldn't do anything that might hurt you."

I smiled. "That would explain you needing to use the bathroom more often when I'm in the shower. Do I really have that effect on you?"

Cheryl's face brightened. "Yes, and I must have the fastest, most flexible fingers in town."

"Really?"

"Really! Do you want to check me out?"

I lifted her chin, kissing her gently - an 'I'm sorry' kiss that quickly turned into much more. Eventually I had to break the kiss to take in air. "You were joking just then, surely?"

"So do you want to check out my digital dexterity?"

"That's the sister I know ... and love also. Eager to show me how she was always tops in English language at school."

We both laughed. "So?" Cheryl prompted.

"So, if you're eager to show me your 'digital dexterity', I'll close the door." I knew Ellie was out with her boyfriend and that mum and dad wouldn't budge from the telly until the movie was finished.

I didn't expect the slow striptease, nor did I expect to be told to 'sit down and watch'.

Despite Cheryl's college qualifications, the role of trainee assistant PA at a very average local business would bring in only a very modest salary. Even so, my sister spent a generous percentage of it on clothes and simply delectable lingerie. The laundry basket told its own story, but seeing the matching scant lacy bra and knickers temptingly peeled from their owner's body was very pleasant, very pleasant indeed. Seeing them laid on the floor, the owner now naked from chin to toes, was utterly fantastic.

Cheryl took the few paces to where I was now sat, peeled off my own sweatshirt, sat on my lap and demanded another kiss. Once satisfied that my pocket rocket also had her full attention she stood, allowing me to fully appraise her naked body before laying on the bed.

Would I describe her? Maybe I should. Cheryl would never be a model but could turn many heads. Her plain but beautiful face was spoiled temporarily with an assortment of streaked cosmetics. Her mid length, light brown hair was ruffled. I hadn't seen much of what lay below her chin, except the times when we'd gone swimming or sunbathed. Her breasts weren't quite symmetrical but nonetheless beautiful; small to medium sized, rounded rather than pointy, youthfully firm, quite dark areola and dusky pink nipples.

Now Cheryl would admit her liking for food although she wasn't fat, not too slim waist, cute butt; nicely rounded, quite prominent mound sprouting a slightly unkempt bush. It needed tidying and I promised myself I would talk her round to trimming it. Her legs, I suppose, were average, but toned as she loved walking.

For a while Cheryl just laid on the bed, head propped by my two pillows, idly tickling her skin before allowing a finger to lazily push through the partly untrimmed bush. Once her finger had reached its goal she shut her eyes, perhaps to conjure up a vision or fantasy, for one finger became two, slowly speeding their darting in and out of her pussy lips. Once in a rhythm however, her ministrations never stopped. Her breathing deepened, mouth open and an intense look appeared on her face, giving me doubt about the pleasure she was giving herself.

All of a sudden, with very little warning, her back arched and stiffened, her legs raised her butt several inches from the bed and her breathing came fast and laboured. She grunted, followed by a stream of incomprehensible sounds and her body shook from tip to toe. Very slowly her breathing slowed to normal, her body rested again on the bed cover and her eyes opened.

"That," said Cheryl, "Is what thinking about you does to me."

"No way, you mean ... just thinking?"

"All in my mind. Plus the frustration carried over from yesterday, just thinking about you."

"About me? Why?"

"Just about you, that's all. In the same way you get hard if a pretty girl shows enough bare flesh ... like gazing down her cleavage or trying to sneak a look up her skirt." Sarky bitch.

"But I don't have tits or tiny knickers."

"I should hope not," replied Cheryl with a broad smile. But you have muscles and a six pack and, " she pointed, "A VERY impressive bulge."

My face must have turned scarlet. I'd never before heard my sister being so overtly sexual. More was to come. "Really?" was all I was able to say.

"Really. Far more than any boy I've been with."

Although I'd been with several girls, rarely did it ever go further than kisses and a meaningful hug. I wasn't a virgin but I could count the number of times I'd fucked on the fingers of one hand. I guess I was more like my other sister, quiet and fairly shy.

"But now, Chas, I need to see it properly - not hanging down like when you're showering, but showing your true masculine worth." I must have looked stunned. "Or is it self-service? Do I have to peel you open myself?"

"I ... I ... I don't know. You're my sister and you shouldn't have done what you just did."

"Oh? And where's the rule book that says so?" She rose, still naked, from my bed. "For fuck's sake Chas, don't be a bore. I've shown you more than you'd see in a porn film, right here in your room." Her voice was a mix of annoyance and frustration.

My head was in a whirl, "OK, self-service then, but that's where it ends."

Cheryl wasn't going to wait to see if I'd bottle out. Before I knew it my jeans were down, quickly followed (but gently) by my underpants.

"Oh my god, this isn't real. Am I dreaming?"

No sis, no dream. I wasn't going to wake either and find this never happened. Now I'd be the last to brag about what nature had supplied me. Some guys were big, most were average, some needed a magnifying glass, but not me.

"You can touch if you want, but it stops there."

And that was where it did stop. It was clear in my mind that everything we did that evening was wrong, if not legally then morally. Cheryl wanted to jack me off and I refused. Things cooled and we left it where it was for the time being, admiring each other's body through the steamed glass of the shower cubicle.

***

I was early to the Bearded Badger but old Ted was already there and I ordered him a second pint. The Real Ale was good, much better than the mass produced beer down town.

"I brought one or two photos with me," began Ted, "Of my glamorous assistant as she was then."

Ted was right, "She's gorgeous."

"Right description, wrong tense," Ted corrected, "WAS gorgeous, but time has taken its toll." He took a long drink, "And she was my first hypnotic subject." He went on to describe how, for example, he'd put her in trance so she didn't move a muscle during the levitation illusions. Of course wires or other equipment kept her suspended, for no scientist had yet managed to conquer gravity.

"So what else did you do?"

"With the hypno stuff?"

"Oh various things, with members of the audience who'd been discreetly chosen before the show."

"I thought you magicians never used people planted in the audience, stooges, call them what you will."

Ted laughed, "Never EVER believe what a magician tells you. It's all about deception."

"That's not what I really meant. What else did you try with your wife? I mean, it must have been easy to talk her into doing whatever you wanted."

Ted laughed again, "You're young and probably often horny. That's not how it works, although doubtless some of the stories you hear have some elements of truth."

I smiled, "I guess I am. Probably watched some videos too."

"Although," continued Ted, with a twinkle in his eye, "Hypnosis creates a highly suggestible state, while still allowing the subject freedom of choice. They can be more easily be persuaded, if that's what they really want."

"So you two did ..."

Ted cut me off. "That's between me and my wife, but let's say hypnosis does make the body very relaxed and full of energy."

I kept Ted's thirst for this lovely beer regularly quenched. By the time pint #5 arrived he was in a better mood for disclosing some of his tricks, which didn't really matter as I was fast becoming his apprentice, though I had no desire to take over the magic shop he so dearly cherished. I also got good tips on how to improve, to my advantage, the hypno skills he was teaching me. He'd also taken the time to print out some tutorials from a professional website that I didn't have access to. It was an evening well spent.

grumpyg
grumpyg
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