Tales of an Unethical Hypnotist Ch. 10

Usually, she would have asked permission, but she was basking in the 'power' her knowledge held over me. Even so, after making her declaration, she paused and looked back at me with questioning eyes.

Good. She was putting on a little show, not actually trying to call the shots. Everybody does it a little when they feel like they can get away with it.

I just nodded and said, "Keys are by the door."

Chani started walking away but paused, then turned and walked back next to me.

She bent down and kissed me, not on the cheek, but on the lips, and not as a daughter, but as a lover. It wasn't sexual or passionate; it was a statement. It said, "I'm confused right now, but I still love you."

She ended the kiss but held her face close to mine for a few additional seconds before finally standing back up and saying, "I love you, Dad. I'm not mad. But, I am confused. I need to think. I'll be back later."

She started walking away again, but once more turned, "I love you."

Moments later, I heard the door close and the garage open.

I was alone with my thoughts and for the first time in a long time...I felt like the future was entirely out of my hands.

--------------

The next few hours passed slowly. Like any other Sunday, I did a couple chores, watched a little TV, and even completed a little work.

Eventually, I noticed the afternoon was getting long in the tooth, and I started thinking about dinner.

With Marsha working a double shift—she wouldn't be home till early in the morning—and Chani gone, I was on my own.

Such situations call for a singular response: pizza.

I had a sneaking suspicion that Chani might be home in time for dinner, however. So I made sure to leave off the peppers and to order the breadsticks she likes.

The food arrived about an hour later, and after tipping the driver, I set it down on the kitchen counter.

It was at that moment my phone rang. A quick glance showed that someone was calling my work number, and while I usually would ignore a call like this on a Sunday evening, I decided to take it.

So, I headed into my office as I picked up. (Being physically in my office puts me in work mode. So while I could have answered the call in the kitchen, I just preferred to do work stuff in my office.)

Turns out...surprise, surprise...it was spam. I've been getting these calls lately where they pretend to be interested in my services. They get me talking, and suddenly they're pitching me some web design or scheduling service. God, it's infuriating.

Anyway, I walked back to the kitchen with the call terminated and discovered Chani standing there looking into the pizza box.

"You ordered us pizza," Chani said happily. "Ooo, and you got me breadsticks? And...hey, were you waiting for me?"

I wasn't waiting for her, but...never turn down an opportunity to take credit for a happy coincidence. "Well, I had a feeling you might be home soon. No worries if you already ate or something," I quickly added. "I won't be offended."

"No," she replied. "I'm starving." Then she paused for a second, looked at me, and smiled. "Thank you, Daddy."

That little interaction began an absolutely fantastic evening. Chani and I took our food into the living room and ate while she showed me a swath of funny and astounding Internet videos.

It was just fun; no drama, no pressure, just fun. We ate, we laughed, and when the food was gone, we snuggled.

I honestly couldn't remember the last time we'd had a daddy/daughter night like tonight. It reminded me of how, years ago, Chani and I were friends—before the dreaded teenage years.

Spending time with her brought back fond memories, and the whole encounter just made me happy.

Eventually, the videos ended, the food was put away, and we were left in silence for a few moments. That's when Chani spoke up. Her tone was different than it had been for the past couple of hours. I suspected it was time to continue our conversation from this morning.

"Dad, I've got to take care of something real quick. It's going to take me about an hour, but when I'm done, I'd like to speak with you."

"Okay," I responded—dread apparent in my voice.

Chani smiled a warm smile and tried to put me at ease. "It's nothing bad," she said. "It might be a difficult conversation," she added with a hint of sorrow in her voice. "But it's nothing bad...I promise."

I just gave her a half-smile and nodded my reply.

With that, Chani picked up a bag she had set down when she came home (I hadn't noticed it earlier), and she went into her bedroom.

About twenty minutes later, I heard her move into the bathroom, and the shower started. Odd.

The shower was an interesting development. Why would Chani care about showering before having a conversation? That didn't make a whole lot of sense.

I'd been sitting next to her for the past two hours. She certainly didn't smell bad or anything... Why...?

Something occurred to me then. With everything that had happened today, throughout all of our interaction, both this morning and this evening, Chani had never seemed angry with me.

In fact, she had been nothing but loving. And, this evening, some of her behavior could even be considered flirtatious.

Furthermore, Chani and I both knew that Marsha—arbiter of the 'second-base rule'—wouldn't be home for hours.

Was it possible that she wanted to get 'cleaned up' for me? Well shit! I hadn't planned on this.

With that, I jumped up and ran to my own bathroom.

------

About thirty minutes later, I was washed, dried, and wearing just a hint of a cologne that Chani bought me for Christmas a year or two ago.

I had also taken the opportunity to brush my teeth and put on a slightly nicer pair of jeans and a stain-free t-shirt.

I didn't want to look like I had gone out of my way to impress, but I did want to present myself well.

Not long after, Chani found me waiting for her in the living room. As I suspected, she had showered, done something cute with her hair, and put on some fresh makeup.

It was a casual look, but I know she must have been rushing to pull it off in such a short amount of time.

Additionally, she was wearing a rather sexy but slightly understated negligee. It was sheer and pink, with lace covering the top of Chani's ample breasts. It hung just below mid-thigh, giving it a sexy and alluring look while still being somewhat modest.

She looked fantastic.

As she walked into the room, she paused, for just a moment, striking a pose that showed off her incredible assets. It was so brief that if I wasn't already staring at her, I would have missed it.

I could tell it was a practiced move. Something that said, "Notice me, but don't make a big deal about it."

At that moment, I have to admit, I was just a little confused. I was sure that Chani would be mad at me with everything that had happened.

But, to the contrary, she wasn't mad. In fact, it was the exact opposite. We had a lot of fun together tonight, and, based on her outfit, we might be having a lot MORE fun very soon.

As the reader, you might be wondering about one key point. A seeming hole in my story, so let's address that quickly.

If Chani learned that I had use hypnosis to turn my wife into a sex slave, wouldn't she suspect that I had used hypnosis on her too?

I mean, she's my daughter. Our relationship had been nothing but appropriate for her entire life. Yet, suddenly, she's deeply in love with me, romantically, and desperate to consummate that relationship physically?

Surely she was a little suspicious.

Actually, no. And, I wasn't even a little surprised.

One of the most frustrating aspects of being a hypnotherapist is just how well it works.

You see, let's imagine you suffer from a debilitating fear of heights. So, you go to work with a talk therapist. They tell you all the reasons why your fear is irrational. They get you to admit that your fear is irrational. But...the fear is still there.

Then, you go to a behavioral therapist. They give you exercises to condition you away from your fear. You force yourself to practice. Each time it's terrifying. You hate doing it. After months you see only the tiniest bit of progress.

Then, out of desperation, you go to a hypnotherapist. The hypnotist talks to you. They ask you to breathe and to use your imagination. After each session, you feel relaxed, but you suspect you're just wasting your time. After all, there are no exercises. There's no 'homework.' There's no struggle. You just breathe and imagine.

You stick with it, though, and after six or eight sessions, you one day find yourself in a situation which would have, in the past, terrified you. But this time you don't feel anything. In fact, you didn't even realize anything was unique until later when a friend asked you how you were doing.

Hmm, you decide you must of just 'gotten over it.' So, you call up your hypnotherapist and cancel your next session. You thank them, but you've just gotten over your fear of heights, so you don't need them anymore. And besides, you don't think it was working.

The hypnotherapist says, "Wait, you've struggled with this fear for 20 years. You've been to multiple therapists. You've missed out on many life experiences because of it. The only thing that's changed in the past eight weeks is that you've been working with me. And you DON'T THINK IT WAS WORKING?!?"

That is the gift and the bane of hypnotherapy. The change comes from within. You don't change who you are, you don't struggle, you don't try to be different. Instead, the world changes around you. You're still you.

To Chani, everything she's experienced over the past couple of weeks wasn't a result of me forcing something upon her. No, from her perspective, it was already inside her. Everything she was experiencing was natural and from within. After all, if I had hypnotized her, she would know. She would feel strange or different. She would catch herself behaving oddly. She would know.

Wrong.

All of those things are true with a hamfisted amateur hypnotist. But even a modestly skilled practitioner can easily avoid such complications. It's just how hypnosis works.

So, when Chani sauntered over to me, a small shopping bag in hand, she knew, without the slightest doubt, that the love and the lust she had been feeling toward her own father was NOT the result of some plot to brainwash her. Not like her mother.

No, these were her thoughts, her feelings. She was entirely in control. Indeed I wouldn't be surprised if she had lost just a little respect for her mother today, feeling that Marsha must be somehow 'weak' to have been influenced by hypnosis. Not Chani, though; she was too strong.

Chani walked to me, then bent down and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. Like earlier, this wasn't the kiss of a daughter, but the kiss of a lover. And, like earlier, it wasn't passionate, but intimate nonetheless.

She then sat down next to me and made a couple slight adjustments to her negligee to ensure her modesty.

"Dad, I have a few things I want to discuss. And the first one is this," Chani said as she reached into the bag and pulled out Marsha's, or rather Ashley's, collar.

She looked down at it briefly then handed it to me. "Here, this is yours."

I looked at my daughter somewhat questioningly. Was she just going to hand this back? I was expecting a lot more drama.

Noticing my look, she took a deep breath and spoke, "Last night, when I saw you use this, and what happened because of it, I had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

"It was... Well, seeing Mom like that, the change that came over her. Watching the things she did. Hearing the things she said. It was terrifying.

"Clearly, she wasn't my mother.

"But," Chani continued, "she was so happy. She was so enthusiastic. And you. You could barely contain yourself.

"In all of our encounters, including what I did to you at the party, you have yet to 'get off.' And, based on what I saw with you and Mo...Ashley, you probably haven't even been close with me.

"When I snuck out of your room last night and was lying awake in bed for hours afterward, that's what I was thinking about.

"At first, I was angry. Not because of what you had clearly done to Mom. No, I was angry because that was her lying next to you, at that moment..., not me.

"Secondly, I was sad. I was sad, and I was hurt, and I felt lonely. Because I wanted so much to have what she had. I wanted to be able to give you that pleasure. I wanted you to be unable to control yourself because of me.

"I thought about the things I heard her say, the things that drove you over the edge, and I wanted those things. I needed those things.

"Why did SHE get to say that to you? Doesn't she know that I am my father's slut? That I am your whore?

"I was so mad and so hurt. You could have said, 'No' to mom. You could have snuck into my room. I wanted it to be US writhing on the bed. Not you and that stupid cunt!" Chani said, anger in her voice.

"Chani!" I chided.

"I'm sorry," she calmed herself. "That's not fair, I know. I'm still trying to figure this all out.

"When I came to you this morning, I had hardly slept, and I was numb after a night of confusion and tears.

"I had devised a 'plan.' I was going to ask you about the collar, and if you lied to me, then I was out. No more 'secret boyfriend.' No more anything. I wasn't sure how, but I was going to move out. I'm eighteen, and you couldn't stop me."

Her declaration shook me deeply. I had no idea any of that was going on this morning. I had no idea how close I had come to losing my daughter.

Chani took a few moments to breathe and calm herself. Telling her story had clearly gotten her worked up.

"But," she said, calm returning to her voice, "that's not what happened. You were honest with me. And, more than just being honest, you actually opened up and shared something special with me.

"I was moved.

"When I left, as I was driving away, I felt so silly. Of course, you would be honest with me. I felt stupid for ever doubting you."

She gave me a weak and bashful smile, which I returned as I took her hand in mine. Wow, she had no idea.

"So, where does that leave us?" I asked, genuinely curious how she felt.

"Daddy, I need to make two things abundantly clear to you right now. And, once I do that, then we can start figuring out what's next for us.

"First," she began. "I am in love with you.

"This isn't some school girl crush. Nor is it what Mom and Grandpa shared.

"I'm not interested in learning the ropes from you so that I can go on and find another guy.

"You are my guy. You have always been my guy.

"You know how little girls often say they're going to marry their dad, or their grandfather or something?" she asked.

"Sure," I shrugged. "I think it's pretty common."

"Yeah, well, if you recall, I said that too, about you." She seemed almost embarrassed to admit it.

"Chani, Love, that's not a big deal; lots of little girls feel that way. They only know a couple men, so their little brains just assume they have to pick from that limited selection," I said as I chuckled.

"No!" Chani exclaimed, irritated by how dismissive I was being. "That's the thing. Maybe, when I was very little, I thought that way. But, Dad, I've felt like that my entire life.

"Imagine how hard it was for me, in middle school, when all my friends were having their first serious crushes, even their first boyfriends, and I couldn't participate. Because I already had someone who I loved.

"Eventually, I learned to play the game with my friends, even with Mom. I'd say, 'Billy is so cute' or 'OMG, I really like Jason.'

"But it wasn't true. Because I was in love with YOU. I knew that somehow we'd be together one day. I knew that we'd find some way to love each other.

"However, over time, I began to realize it was never going to happen. How could it? I was so confused.

"And then, a couple weeks ago, everything changed."

Chani took a breath and seemed to be gathering her thoughts. While she did, I thought about what she just said.

As I saw it, there were three possibilities:

One - Everything is precisely as she said. She's been in love with me her whole life.

Two - Her subconscious mind had fabricated this whole story to reconcile what she was currently feeling.

Three - It was a combination of both.

In all likelihood, it was option three. I've known several women who were willing to admit to me that they had a mild crush on their fathers well into their teenage years.

Of course, it never went anywhere, and they grew out of it once they started dating, but it was real.

Like a lot of fathers, my relationship with Chani had diminished after puberty. Girls change a lot, not just their bodies but their interests and their personalities. Often times, as a result, fathers just naturally distance themselves.

I was only vaguely aware of Chani's romantic life. I had heard mention of a boy here or there. But to my knowledge, she had never seriously dated someone.

And, truth be told, Chani is smart, fun, funny, and absolutely smoking hot. There had to be an abundance of boys asking her out.

Perhaps there was something in her psychology which caused her to avoid romantic entanglements thus far in her young life. And if that was the case, it would have been easy for her subconscious to latch on to that and use it to make sense out of everything that had been going on the past couple of weeks.

Something similar had happened with Marsha. Using hypnosis, I caused her to FEEL like she had a relationship with her father, and her subconscious modified her memories to match those feelings.

It's a ubiquitous phenomenon and doesn't need hypnosis. All of us subconsciously modify our memories, to a certain extent, to align with our current feelings and beliefs.

"I realize," Chani began again, "that I'm rambling a bit. But I want to be clear that I love you, Dad. I love you, and I'm IN love with you. It's not some phase. It's not some teenage crush. Do you understand?"

I looked into her eyes for a moment before responding, "Chani. I do understand. I mean, as much as I can. I don't know what you've felt over the years or how that affected you. But I believe that you love me. And I love you too.

"I need to be honest with you, though. My feelings for you are a little confusing too. I love you. I mean it, I love you with all my heart. And in addition to those feelings of love, there's a deep physical attraction and desire," I allowed my eyes to roam her body for just a moment before continuing.

"The weird thing is I don't have those 'new love' sort of feelings. The butterflies and the sweaty palms and the sleepless, 'is she thinking of me' nights.

"The love I feel for you is more profound. It's like the love that I feel for your mom. It's not new and exciting; it just is. It's been such a big part of my life for so long that it's just part of who I am.

"Usually when one says, 'I'm in love,' it implies all these other feelings. But I don't have those. Am I making any sense?" I implored.

"I think so, Dad. I mean, I do have a lot of those 'new love' feelings. But I think I understand what you're saying. In fact, that's partly what I wanted us to get out of this evening," she said.

"This evening?" I asked, a bit confused.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Just the two of us, hanging out, having fun. It was light, it was easy, it was natural. Earlier, you said that you and Mom are friends, real friends.

"As I thought about it today, I realized that we used to be friends, and I want that again.

"Which," she added, "brings us to the second thing I want to be clear on."

I raised an eyebrow to let her know I was curious for her to continue.

"I'm yours, Daddy. I said it last night at the party, and I meant it. It's not going to change. I'm not going anywhere."