Tales of Incest Ch. 01

Jill seemed to be getting angrier, and honestly, I was beginning to get a little scared as she pointed her finger at my chest and continued, "I wish! I had a husband that loved me like yours loves you!"

"Oh my god, Eleanor," Jill scolded, "He thinks you're a goddess, a supermodel, a fucking Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model! And you're complaining?!"

Now she took on a scornful voice as she went on, "Oh, but you don't feel like you are any of those things. So, what do you do? You fucking show him exactly what you are. A spoiled rotten, ungrateful, cunt! I'd call you a bitch but that would be a step up from what you are. You are the type of cunt that captures the best man in the whole damn state, makes him fall head over heels for you, and then berates him for treating you like a Queen. For worshiping you like a goddess. You are so fucking spoiled that you make me sick!"

"As I said," Jill finished in a huff, "I have half a mind to just let you live with the consequences of your stupidity. Maybe Stanley will let me show him how a grateful woman treats her man, that is, once he leaves your ungrateful ass!"

"I--I'm sorry Jill," I replied hesitantly. Honestly, I was stunned by Jill's vehemence, "I never knew-- I shouldn't have pestered you with this, I'm sorry."

I started to leave but Jill suddenly grabbed my hand and said, "Look, what I've said needed to be said. However, of all the people you could have come to, probably only me and a few others can actually help you save your marriage."

"You can?" I asked as I immediately moved back into the booth.

"Yeah, I can," Jill purred with a small smirk, "Maybe, I can help you, but this still hinges on Stanley being responsive."

"How?" I asked.

"I tell you what," Jill said as she nodded her head toward the door, "How about we pay the bill and head to my office? We can talk more there."

"Okay," I agreed eagerly.

----(!)----

Roughly thirty minutes later, Jill directed me to sit back on her couch and relax. To help she offered me three scotches, water, and a glass of wine. Sure enough, pretty quickly after that, I was feeling very relaxed.

"Alright," Jill purred as she sipped on her wine, "I think you're ready."

"Good," I replied though my mouth felt a bit numb and I wasn't sure if that's what I actually said.

Jill lowered the shades, putting the room in a semi-gloom. Then she set a stand on her coffee table and hung a dazzling gold medallion with a silk thong from the stand. She didn't swing it pendulously or anything. She just let it hang there. Next, she lit several candles and the effect was instant, the golden medallion seemed to pick up the candlelight and flare to life.

Returning to her chair Jill purred in her lovely voice, "Okay Eleanor. Now, all I want you to do is sit back and look at the medallion. You don't have to concentrate on it. I just want you to admire it while we talk. That and relax..."

"Okay," I mumbled but I was already really relaxed as I stared at the medallion and listened to Jill's voice.

Slowly, I felt muscles I hadn't even known were tense and started loosening up as I fell under the medallion's hypnotic spell.

"Now," Jill purred huskily, "I want you to tell me again how you feel about yourself and your body."

Feeling relaxed and safe like I've never felt before, I opened up to Jill and told her everything.

"Good, Eleanor, good," Jill purred in a soft purr, "Now, Eleanor, I want you to imagine your ideal self. Once you've done that I want you to imagine yourself as you are now. Compare yourself side by side and describe for me the differences. Let's start with your breasts."

"Mmm," I hummed as I imagined my younger and older self, "I was younger, obviously. I was so much thinner then. My breasts are so small! They are close-set on my chest and they are nice and round despite being so tiny. It kind of gave them an upside-down heart look. I think I was a double A-cup, maybe even a triple-A."

"What were your measurements back then?" Jill asked.

"I was a 30 A-cup but the cups were always loose, so I usually didn't bother wearing a bra," I replied.

"So how do your breasts appear now, compared to your breasts when you were younger?" Jill asked.

"Well," I answered, "My breasts now are larger. Much larger. They are very full B-cups, Cs if I go down to a 28 in size. They're still close-set on my chest and they're even rounder than before."

"So," Jill asked, "Which do you like better?"

"I like my breasts now," I said.

"Good," Jill purred, "From now on, you love your breasts. You are proud of your breasts and you love showing them off. From now on, you want to wear bras and bathing suits that show off just how beautiful your breasts are. You will also love receiving compliments on your breasts. Those compliments will make you love your breasts, and love showing them off even more. Especially when those compliments come from Stanley and your sons."

"Yes," I said as I nodded my head, "Of course, I love my breasts and I love showing them off, especially to Stanley and the boys."

"Good," Jill almost laughed, "Now tell me about your waist and belly, and compare your younger self to you now? And give me your measurements."

"My waist was 26 inches when Stanley and I got married," I narrated almost mechanically, almost as if I was outside of myself looking at my younger and older selves, "I got pregnant within the year. My hips are broad and my torso is proportional to my legs, so the baby grew inside me for the longest time. No one even knew I was pregnant until I was seven months along. I didn't get any stretch marks thank god. But after John was born my waist never went back down to 26 inches, 30 inches is the smallest I've gotten down to. I had a four-pack back then and I do now as well, but I also have the roundness to my lower belly that just won't go away."

"Mmm," Jill hummed as she empathized with my disgruntlement over my flaws before proceeding to say, "Eleanor, what I want you to do now is adjust how you see your younger self. I want you to add some of the roundness of your lower belly that you have now to your younger self. Once you've done that I want you to tell me how much difference there is from how you were then to now."

As I did what Jill asked, I began to wonder if I hadn't always had that roundness to my lower belly. Have I been deceiving myself all these years? Judging myself? Brow beating myself for never attaining an image of myself that wasn't real?

As my younger self-image came to look more like my normal self, the relief in my voice was almost palpable as I whispered, "By the time I was eighteen my waist was 26 inches. When in school, I worked harder than anyone during P.E. at weightlifting, but I never had a completely flat belly. I had a tight four-pack with a defined linea alba leading to my navel, but from there my tight abdominals ski-sloped out to a small mound below my belly button before tapering evenly out to my hip flares and down to my pubic mound. In twenty-four years since I married Stanley, and after four births, for my waist to be only 30 inches is pretty damn sexy!"

"Good, Eleanor, very good," Jill praised, "You're making very good progress. So, how do you like your breasts and belly now?"

"I love them," I purred, "My breasts are so much larger than they used to be and my belly is still pretty damn tight for being forty-two and having four kids."

"Good," Jill chuckled, then focused on her next step, "Okay, Eleanor, now I want you to keep imagining your younger self and your older self as you are today."

"Okay," I replied in a much more relaxed, less aggravated voice as I fell more deeply under Jill's influence.

Jill watched me for almost a full minute as I idly stared at the medallion hanging from the stand on her coffee table before she commanded softly but firmly, "Eleanor, I want you to focus on your younger and older selves hips, ass, and legs and describe the differences."

"Before having kids," I began, "my measurements were 31, 26, 38. After John, they changed to 32, 28, 40. After Peter, I was left with my measurements being 33, 32, 46. And after years of exercise, weight training, and dieting, I've slimmed down to 32, 30, 44 measurements. No matter what I do, my ass and thighs just never go down in size!"

"Yes," Jill agreed in a mild tone, but then asked, "However, Eleanor, be honest with yourself, examine your two selves, and tell me, aside from your hips being broader and your ass and thighs thicker, are you really any fatter?"

Obeying Jill's command, I did as she requested, and for the first in twenty years, I was truly honest with myself. As I mentally pivoted around both my older and younger selves as I admired my own bodies. After several seconds, I admitted, "No, I'm not as small as I was when I was eighteen, and as big as it is now it has a beautiful shape. A perfect upside-down heart from behind and huge, round, capital Cs in profile. My thighs are thick and shapely and besides a couple of stripes of cellulite on the bottoms of each ass cheek I am not fat at all."

"Good," Jill exclaimed in satisfaction, "Finally, Eleanor, you're being honest with yourself. So, now I want you to say, "I am beautiful."

"I am beautiful," I mimicked.

"I am sexy."

"I am sexy," I repeated.

"I love my husband."

"I love my husband."

"I love my sons."

"I love my sons."

"I will do anything to make Stanley and my sons happy and love me more."

"I will do anything to make Stanley and my sons happy and love me more."

"Good," Jill concluded, "Now, from now on, Eleanor, you love yourself. You love your body. You love dressing in sexy clothes. You love sexy bathing suits. You love sexy underwear. And you love them because they make you love yourself more. Plus, you know that Stanley and your sons love seeing you in them. It boosts your self-esteem and it arouses you to know that your husband and sons see you as a sexy woman."

"Yes," I agreed and then reiterated everything Jill had just commanded as my heart became all aflutter and my pussy began to tingle and lubricate.

"Okay," Jill said after a long pause as she wrote down her notes, "Now, Eleanor, I want you to tell me why you exploded at your husband."

"I... I was angry," I said in mild confusion.

"Why?" Jill asked.

"Because I didn't like myself," I said.

"Do you like yourself now?" Jill asked.

"Yes," I said.

"So, are you going to get angry with Stanley anymore for wanting you to dress sexier?" Jill asked.

"No," I replied.

"Good, Eleanor, you're doing so well. I'm proud of you," Jill praised and I felt so happy that she was praising me now instead of being angry with me, "Now, I want you to relax a little more. I want you to feel yourself on the precipice of consciousness. You're awake but almost asleep. You're so relaxed that you could fall asleep at any moment."

I could feel myself hovering on the verge of falling asleep, but I heard every word Jill said.

"Good, Eleanor, good," Jill commended in a low, even voice, "Now, what I want you to do is let go of all your anxieties concerning your body, your looks, your weight, and your age. You are a very beautiful woman, and from now on when people tell you that you will believe it. Even more, you will now embrace your femininity. You will see just how truly beautiful you really are, and you will dress in a way that highlights and beautifies you and your new sexuality, and seduces all of the men who love you."

Nodding in complete agreement, I smiled happily. How had I not seen this before? How had I not seen that my low self-esteem was hindering my loved ones from showing me just how much they loved me all this time? Of course, I would do all these things Jill was suggesting I do. Of course! I just can't believe it took Jill telling me for me to realize it!

"Now," Jill purred in an even softer and more sultry tone, "Relax a little more and let me in deeper. I am your best friend. You can trust me with everything. So, let me all the way inside, I have just a couple more suggestions to help you win back the love of your husband and sons..."

----(!)----

When I finally got home I found a note magnetized to the refrigerator. It read, "Not that it matters, but I'll be out of town for the next three weeks. -Stanley"

Below the first note was a second, "Mom, I'll be out of town for the next five days. Going to a training seminar in Vegas. -John"

Below the second note was a third, "Mom, This is Virgil. I'm going to the beach with some friends of mine. I'll be gone until Sunday night. Love you! -Virgil"

I immediately felt depressed and fearful for the fact that I wanted to make up with Stanley and the boys as soon as possible, and these trips hindered that. Also, I very much wished I was going to the beach with Virgil. I would strip naked for a chance to go to the beach! Then, that got me thinking about my clothes and bathing suits, and that thought downright disgusted me.

Looking back at the notes on the frig, I decided that my husband and son's absences were an opportunity to improve myself and be ready for when they returned. First, I started by going to my bedroom and taking a nice long shower. Once I got out, I fixed my hair and put on a dash of makeup.

Second, I walked into my bedroom buck-naked, opened my underwear drawer, and cleaned it out. I threw every panty and bra I owned away. I would rather go naked than wear any of those ugly bras and panties.

Finding nothing that I was willing to wear, I was still naked when Peter threw the door open and walked right into my room while calling out, "Mom? Are you home?"

"Peter?!" I cried in surprise as I turned to find my youngest son staring at me!

"Oh! Mom!" Peter gasped, "Oh no! I'm sorry Mom! I'll leave!"

"Wait!" I commanded and was surprised when Peter stopped dead in his tracks, "Peter, what have your father and I said a thousand times about walking into our room without knocking?"

Peter's face was all scrunched up with his eyes closed. He looked miserable. Like he knew he was in for a tongue-lashing or a beating. One of the two, or both. He just didn't know which was going to land on his shoulders first.

Looking down at my own naked body first, I looked back up and for the first time that I remember, I ogled my son. He was tall like his father. All the boys were. Being eighteen he was still slim in chest, waist, hip, and leg. His shoulders were broad, and his legs were long. And--growing down his pant leg was a very admirable dick. He was at least eight inches, maybe longer, and his balls filled out his pants very nicely.

I have spent years listening to Jill, Diana, Rose, and Vivian extol the virtues of certain characteristics of men's physiques, but the one thing they all agreed on was they all like admiring a man with a noticeable bulge in his pants. I never really spent much time looking at other men because I had Stanley, and I've never looked at my sons in such a way. But, six months of no sex was starting to affect me.

"Peter," I said and he visibly flinched.

"Peter, open your eyes please," I requested in a more honeyed voice.

I hadn't moved to cover my nudity, so as Peter's eyelids finally cracked a little his expression went from frightened to wide-eyed shock as he ogled me up and down.

"Since you've barged in on me, Peter," I said as I feigned nonchalance, not wanting him to see that I was nearly shaking with nervousness, or that my nips were tight and my pussy wet with arousal, "I require your assistance."

"Umm," Peter stammered, "Help with what?"

I decided to move then. Walking over to my son who was standing just inside the door of my room, I got to within the last three steps of him and launched myself into his arms. I hugged him so tight while he was too stunned to react. After a few seconds, he wrapped his arms around my waist and returned my hug.

"What's wrong Mom?" He asked finally.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled into his chest as I started crying, "I'm so sorry I've been such a bitch of a mother all these years--especially these last six months. I'm sorry I told you boys and your father that I hated it when you complimented me. I'm sorry!"

"Mom," Peter said soothingly, "Indeed, it's never been easy being raised by you and Dad, but you are my mom and there is no other woman I love more than you. It's true these last six months have been really really rough, and honestly, I think dad is going to leave soon if you don't fix this..."

"I know!" I wailed into Peter's chest, "I was going to fix it tonight, or at least start fixing it, but your father's gone on a trip for the next three weeks!"

"Okay," Peter said thoughtfully, "Then what do you want me to help you with mom?"

Sniffling, I pushed away from Peter and looked back at my room, and said, "Actually, I am throwing all my clothes and underwear away. What I would like help with is-- Would you help me go through my clothes and find if anything is worth keeping."

"Sure Mom," Peter agreed, "I'll help."

So pushing away from him I walked back across the room and started sifting through clothes. Naked. With my son in the room. For the rest of the afternoon, we went through all my clothes. I would try something on from time to time and I would let Peter decide if it was worth keeping or not.

For the rest of the day, I kept catching Peter staring at me. Sometimes it was my ass he was looking at. Other times it was my breasts or pussy. I for my part kept staring at the long bulge in his pants that was his dick.

In the end, we found three old summer dresses I bought back when I was twenty-five, or so. One was lavender, the other teal, and the last white, all of them with flattering floral patterns. I don't remember them fitting me all that well at the time which is probably why they got shoved to the back of the closet. However, now they fit like a glove. I wore nothing beneath them and each dress fit my bust and rib cage perfectly before flaring out very femininely over my hips. They were a bit short though, stopping only an inch or two below my very large round ass cheeks. A good gust of wind and anyone watching would get quite a show. Otherwise, the dresses were perfect.

Next, we found matching wedges to compliment all three dresses. After hours of going through my clothes, we finally started bagging up everything that was going to Goodwill. Afterward, I picked out the lavender floral summer dress and wedges and put them on. It was sort of thrilling to see Peter's disappointment that I was no longer naked. Smiling at him naughtily I grabbed the bottom of my skirt and lifted it flashing my pussy at him. His mouth dropped and I think I saw his dick twitch inside his pants!

We were about to start loading the car with all my bags of clothes when I cleared my throat and hesitantly took a step closer to my young, eighteen-year-old son, and mumbled, "Umm, son, I can't help but notice that you've been aroused ever since you came into my room."

"Oh god, mom! I'm so sorry!" Peter gasped thinking he was in trouble as he suddenly shrunk away trying to hide his erection.

"No no!" I said reassuringly, "I'm sorry. I... I did this to you, and I'm sorry."

Peter relaxed then and I stepped in a little closer and hesitantly put my hand on his dick and balls as I offered, "Look, I know I'm your mother and I'm old and ugly..."

"No, you're not, Mom!" Peter interrupted adamantly, "You are the most beautiful woman I know! Even more so than most of the girls in my school!"

"Thank you, Peter," I whispered as a smile formed on my lips as I squeezed his dick and balls just a little, "That is always so nice to hear, thank you."

Then, looking into Peter's eyes I said, "I'm your mother, so I really shouldn't do this, but I feel responsible for getting you so aroused. It must be painful being this--swollen--and confined inside such tight pants. Would you like it if I helped you with this?"