Melanie's Hypnotic Transformation: Chapters 1 & 2

Author: fireneko
Published: July 23, 2017 Published on Forum 　　First
Published: Yes 　　Original Article
: meline's manipulation 　　Original
Author: 　　mindspark
=== 　　... 　　Hopefully, those who enjoy other hypnosis stories will also like this~ 　　＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝　　Chapter 1 　　"One, you can wake up now." 　　I felt as if my mind had been pierced through a thick fog, overcoming the dizziness and fatigue, and I heard 　　the static from the TV. How strange, we were watching a DVD, why was there such noise 　　? 　　I opened my eyes and was immediately startled by my younger brother Max, who was as thin as a bamboo pole. He 　　stared at me with a very intimidating gaze, his greasy hair almost covering his eyes, and his lips twisted into a strange and stupid 　　smile. 　　"Oh my god, Max," I cursed, clutching my chest to calm my racing heart, " 　　What are you doing? You scared me to death." 　　"You're asleep," he said, a strange smile on his face for some reason. "The movie's over 　　, Melanie, so I thought I should wake you before I go to bed, so Dad doesn't see you sleeping on the sofa 　　." 　　I nodded, still feeling a little groggy. Dad definitely didn't like us 　　being in the living room after he and Mom fell asleep, and it wouldn't be good if he saw me sleeping there. However, Max's reaction still 　　felt odd. We rarely talked; we weren't the kind of close siblings. Maybe he was just 　　worried about me getting scolded, and that his right to watch TV late at night would be taken away too. 　　"I'll turn off the lights; you can go to sleep now," Max continued, then turned and walked towards the TV 　　. 　　"Okay." I nodded, feeling a little awkward, but I was too tired and groggy to 　　think. I was so sleepy, my eyelids were almost closing. I murmured "Thanks," and slowly 　　walked to my room. 　　I woke up to the noisy, repetitive ringing of my alarm clock. It was an ordinary morning, the sky was still 　　dim, just like usual. I wanted to keep sleeping, but that's the purpose of an alarm clock— 　　to force you out of bed when your body wants to rest. 　　How late did I go to bed last night? It seems like it was past midnight. 　　My brain was still a bit foggy from just waking up. Did I really go back to my room past midnight last night 　　? I can't remember, I don't even remember what movie I watched. I try to recall… 　　Did I really fall asleep during the movie? Was that really it? Something feels off. 　　Anyway, it's not that important. 　　School is what's bothering me most right now, but school education is necessary. Even if it weren't, 　　my dad would kill me if I dared to skip class. So I mustered my strength and forced myself to wake up, 　　sitting up in bed. 　　Could there be a worse feeling? Leaving the warm, comfortable bed, all 　　happiness instantly abandons you the moment you get out of bed. 　　I turned on the bedside lamp and saw myself in the mirror. 　　My usually neat, dark brown hair was a complete mess, and my pajamas were wrinkled and sloppy. 　　I had prominent dark circles under my chocolate-colored eyes, as if I hadn't slept all night. 　　I sighed, picked up the folded clothes from the table, and headed to the bathroom. 　　My morning routine is always simple: wake up (with a slight grumbling about why I have to get up), 　　shower, get dressed, and put on makeup to look presentable. 　　That's what I was doing. I took off my pajamas, bra, and underwear, tossed them into 　　the laundry basket in the bathroom, and started showering. 　　When you're completely naked, nothing is more refreshing than a steady stream of hot water 　　. The feeling of that warm, comforting flow over my skin, leaving countless 　　watermarks on my slender body, is something I absolutely love. And the soft, 　　tingling sensation of water dripping from my body—from my chest, nipples, buttocks, elbows, nose, and chin—is also wonderful. If I had the time, I wish I could 　　stand there a little longer. 　　Fifteen or twenty minutes later (okay, maybe even longer), I dried myself off, put on 　　a matching bra and panties (cute baby blue), then my school uniform—a white shirt, a black skirt, 　　and a black sweater—and finally, knee-high socks and a striped tie. 　　After applying some basic concealer and foundation, I went back to my room, put on my shoes, and slung 　　my school backpack over my shoulder. 　　When I went downstairs, Mom had already prepared breakfast for the three of us—Dad had already gone to work 　　. We ate breakfast, as usual. 　　Mom asked questions like, "Do you need anything from school?" or "When 　　are you coming home?" After finishing breakfast, she also went to work a few minutes earlier than me. 　　Only Max and I were left at home, which usually meant absolute silence. We 　　would each finish our breakfast and then go about our own business. 　　"Did you sleep well last night?" Max tried to ask casually, but my brother isn't an actor 　　, and his awkward tone gave him away completely. 　　I raised my eyebrows. "Sure, how about you?" I don't remember my brother ever asking me that before, and I was almost 　　touched.

"The movie last night," his voice sounded a little clumsy and nervous, "did you like it?"
I felt like I had lost something again. I tried to recall last night, but no matter how hard I tried, it was all a blank
. "I don't know," I said, my voice full of uncertainty, "I don't remember."
"Are you alright, sister?" Max asked, but it didn't sound like a question, more like a clumsy actor
rehearsing lines. "Maybe you should rest."
A thick fog suddenly enveloped me, and I felt completely blank and empty, as if all my
thoughts and emotions had been taken away. I felt like I was floating up and then disappearing.
"Sister," Max's voice said, cutting through the thick fog, "wake up, it's time to go to school
."
"Huh?" I was still a little groggy, but the fog seemed to have come and
gone suddenly. "What happened?"
"You fell asleep, we have to leave right away."
I was still dizzy at that moment, only aware of two things: first, my brother's voice, each word
seemed to wash away the fog in my heart; second, my bra, which felt so uncomfortable, really very
uncomfortable, itchy and tight, something was wrong. I sat up straight, instinctively thinking that I had to change my bra immediately, otherwise I would have to 　　endure this uncomfortable feeling
all day . 　　"I'll be right back," I told Max, ignoring his strange look, and ran back to my 　　room. 　　I closed the door, immediately took off my sweater and shirt, and then unhooked my bra. As the bra fell to 　　the floor, I felt a complete liberation; that uncomfortable feeling, that 　　tingling and uneasy sensation that had plagued me all morning, finally disappeared. 　　All morning? A part of me wondered. 　　'Your bra bothered you all morning.' 　　Indeed, ever since I put it on after showering, that feeling had been bothering me. 　　"You have to take it off before school." 　　I had to take off my bra before school, otherwise I'd have to endure this feeling all day. I sighed, 　　thankful the discomfort was finally gone, and opened the closet to find a new bra. 　　"You don't have time to put on another bra." 　　I stopped. We had to leave now, right now. I didn't have time to find another 　　bra, but I couldn't go to school like this. 　　"You'll go to school without a bra." 　　But… maybe it wasn't so bad, right? Who would notice if I wasn't wearing a bra, and it was 　　only for one day, right? 　　I glanced at the clock and cursed when I saw the time. 　　There was no time left. 　　Without a second thought, I quickly pulled my shirt back on, trying to ignore 　　the uncomfortable feeling of the fabric rubbing against my nipples. 　　A few minutes later, Max and I were on our way to school, half-walking, half-running to avoid being late. I 　　pressed my hands tightly against my chest, hoping no one would notice how my breasts were bouncing without a bra 　　. 　　No one noticed, at least that's what I thought. Although even if some boys did notice, they 　　wouldn't tell me directly, I thought my friends would say something, but they didn't, so I 　　guess no one noticed. 　　As soon as I got home from school, I ran to my room to change. I took off my school uniform, 　　put on a bra, and then my pajamas—it was a bit early, but it didn't matter—and finally felt 　　a sense of relief. 　　It would never happen again. 　　If it happened again, I'd rather be late. Spending the whole day worrying about whether people would see my bouncing 　　breasts, feeling that invisible pressure all day, is nothing compared to spending a few more minutes changing into a different bra 　　. 　　But what's wrong? Why is my bra making me feel so itchy and uncomfortable? This has 　　never happened before. I want to ask my mom; maybe she used a new laundry detergent, and my skin just happens 　　to be allergic to it. 　　The rest of the time passed smoothly. I finished my homework, prepared my clothes for tomorrow, washed my face, 　　had dinner with my family, and texted my friends while watching TV. I apologized to them for 　　not walking home with them after school, saying I wasn't feeling well—I was too embarrassed to tell them it was because I hadn't worn 　　a bra all day. 　　After my parents went to bed, it was just Max and me again, watching a terrible 　　comedy. 　　We sat quietly for a long time, at least an hour, and then Max spoke. 　　"How was your day?" 　　The sudden question surprised me. "Uh, pretty good, I guess." 　　"You look tired, Melanie," Max said with a smile. "Maybe you should 　　rest." 　　Here we go again, the same thick fog as this morning, covering everything around me, filling every 　　corner of my soul, until nothing was left. I, Melanie, felt as if I had completely vanished from the world 　　. 　　My brother's gentle voice told me it was time to wake up. 　　Consciousness rushed back to my body. Max and I were in the living room. It was late; our parents had already gone to 　　bed. We were watching TV, and then I… fell asleep? No, no, not at all. Was I just spacing out? That description 　　seems closer, but it's still not quite right. 　　"I'm alright, sister." Max's voice sounded worried. What happened? 　　"It's nothing," I said, a little confused. "I guess so." 　　"You fell asleep again," he said. 　　"I fell asleep?" That unusual feeling... I didn't think I was asleep. 　　"Yes, you fell asleep." His voice really sounded worried, but was he really worried about me? 　　We weren't that close, but we were family after all, so I thought it was reasonable for him to be worried. 　　"I'm fine," I told him, and at the same time, I told myself. "I'm fine, just a little tired."

"I'm going back to my room to sleep."
I tried to stand up, but my legs trembled and swayed like jelly. I managed to stand, though
. Max watched me walk with concern until I reached my room.
I staggered back to my room, feeling completely exhausted, but not like I'd done anything strenuous
. My body felt normal; it was more like I'd had a full day of exams, and my brain felt like it'd been bombarded
. Maybe it was because I hadn't been sleeping well lately.
With my clumsy fingers, I took off my pajamas, loosened my bra, and pulled down my panties, throwing them
all onto the floor. Finally free from these restrictive garments, I jumped onto the bed,
curled up under the thin blanket—it felt wonderful, comfortable, soft, and warm.
This is why I've always loved sleeping naked, as far back as I can remember.
Chapter Two
A beeping noise, confusing me for a while, then my drowsy brain started working again. This was my
alarm clock. Of course, who invented this damn thing? Worse still, they invented the school, and worst of all, they decided that
school would start with mornings like this.
I buried my face in the pillow—a part of me naively thought that if I couldn't hear the annoying alarm clock
, I could pretend it didn't exist and keep sleeping.
No, I couldn't.
Of course not.
I groaned, still burying my face in the pillow, waving my hand towards the alarm clock.
After several failed attempts—I just slapped my hand randomly on the table until I hit it—I finally
stopped the annoying alarm.
Now I really had to get up, damn it, this was the hardest part, but through some miracles
and my desperate efforts, I managed to get out of bed.
Thank goodness it's Friday! Tomorrow and Sunday I won't have to go through all this; I can
sleep until noon!
I quickly slipped on my pajamas and t-shirt, grabbed my folded uniform, and headed to the bathroom.
I immediately took off the pajamas and t-shirt—wearing them for less than a minute—and tossed them into the laundry basket before
showering. After showering, I prepared to put on my uniform.
I saw a pile of underwear and bras next to the uniform. How strange, why were they there? I shook
my head and tossed the underwear and bra into the laundry basket as well. I must have been distracted yesterday to make this
mistake; how stupid of me.
Wearing the uniform, I felt the skirt was more breathable than usual. I'm not complaining; it felt great,
and it really lifted my spirits.
Next came breakfast: bacon and egg sandwiches and morning "family" time. Mom and Max talked
about the family photo album, I texted a friend on my phone, and then Mom went to work.
Almost the instant Mom left the house and closed the door, Max turned around, grinned at me
, and said, "Hey, sis, you should rest now."
"Uh, what…" I only managed to utter those two syllables before a thick fog swept me away again.
Max's voice brought me back to reality. Thankfully, he was always there for me whenever that strange fog appeared
, but something still felt off. A voice inside me was screaming and repeating, telling
me this was wrong.
"Are you alright, Mei?" Max asked, his soft, comforting voice like waves washing away
the hazy feelings that had been hanging over my heart.
"Mmm, mmm," I murmured.
"Hurry up, we're going to be late."
This snapped me back to reality. It wasn't just the worry about being late; I was worried about
the punishment. The clock showed it was already too late. We should have been on our way by now.
Dad will kill me.
We still made it to school on time, jogging intermittently along the way. I was drenched in sweat
, my legs ached, and my chest was pounding as my lungs desperately tried to deliver enough oxygen to
every part of my body. But we made it!
I stopped breathing, closed my eyes, and savored the cool breeze on my skin: my
face, my neck, my thighs.
I could even feel a wisp of wind brush past my thighs, then slip under my skirt to a place no one could see
—it felt… amazing.
Opening my eyes, I saw a boy looking at me, or more precisely, at my heaving
chest. I wondered if he noticed I wasn't wearing a bra under my sweater and shirt; I hoped he
had.
The thought excited me. A corner of my being told it was wrong, that I should
feel ashamed, but most of me enjoyed the desire to be exposed and seen.
I looked into his eyes. When the boy realized I'd seen him, his eyes widened, looking somewhat
guilty and surprised. But I smiled at him, so he didn't look away. I closed
my eyes again, casually raising my arms above my head in a stretch—and arching my back, trying to
thrust my breasts out as much as possible.
With my eyes closed, I couldn't see the boy's reaction. Was he still watching? Could he see my shirt
clinging tightly to my nipples? I exhaled, lowered my arms, and opened my eyes.
He was still watching me.
When he noticed me looking at him again, he lowered his head, blushed, and quickly walked away
. He was quite cute; he was probably around my age—though now he looked like
a kid caught stealing jam.
I walked towards the first classroom, passing him. I turned back and could see he was still
blushing. I couldn't help but give him a smile and wink, then left him behind.
It felt so different. I'd never done anything like this before. I'd never thought of showing
myself to a boy. It felt amazing, so alluring, so…sexy.
But at the same time, a nagging thought kept telling me it was wrong,
this wasn't me, I wouldn't do such a thing.
The sudden loss of consciousness, the thick fog, the dreamlike blankness—these things seemed connected.
My head started to ache. It had been fine before, but the intense pain suddenly spread from a small point
. The more I tried to think about these strange things and unsettling feelings, the more severe the headache became
.
Something was wrong.
I knew something must have happened, but that was all. What could it be?
The school bell rang, interrupting my chaotic thoughts and doubts. I'll think about it later; I'll figure it out
.
I had a smooth day at school. Several times, I noticed boys looking at me (mainly at
my body). Their gazes made me feel hot and desireful. I liked this feeling. It's strange; I
would never have tried to attract boys' attention before. Before today, it would have only made me feel uneasy, but
now, I'm actively showing them my "assets."
This feeling again... something really isn't right.
I kept thinking about this all day, and every time I did, my head would start to ache
. This was so abnormal. At first, I thought I might be sick, some strange virus or symptom causing my
temporary loss of consciousness, but that seemed unlikely. I also thought it might be due to lack of sleep or being too tired, but
that probably wasn't the case either. I slept as long as usual and didn't have insomnia. I even wondered if I might
be pregnant, but that was absurd. I've never had sex, and these symptoms have nothing to do with pregnancy
. Thank goodness I'm not the Virgin Mary.
To put it bluntly, I was completely trapped, with no idea what was happening to my body or mind
. It was truly terrifying.
Thankfully, Max was there to wake me up every time it happened. Or rather, why
was Max always there? It was always him, and always
when we were alone together. How many times had it happened? Three or four times? Max was the only recurring element.
What did he say this morning before I lost consciousness? He seemed to ask me something.
My head started throbbing again, interrupting my thoughts, but at least I felt like I had grasped something
.
Max, I would confront him immediately when I had the chance.
Knock, knock, knock, I tapped on the wooden door of Max's room with my knuckles.
My brother's voice came from the other side of the door, a muffled sound coming through the wooden panel,
sounding a little impatient. A few seconds later, the door opened a crack, and Max's half-face appeared in the gap.
Even through that tiny crack, his room still seemed very dark, especially since it was midday
.
"Oh," he said when he saw me. He must have thought it was Dad or Mom. "Melanie,
what's wrong?"
"Can we talk?"
I saw hesitation and a little fear on my brother's face.
"Uh, no problem, please come in." The door opened fully, and Max invited me in, into his room.
Perhaps it wasn't very smart, but at that moment, my body reacted faster than my thoughts, and I entered my brother's dark
room.
His curtains—thick black fabric blocking out all sunlight—plunged the room into complete darkness.
The only light source in the room was the two computer monitors. I didn't know why Max's computer needed
two monitors; it was completely unnecessary for me. Before I could even see the screens clearly, Max stepped
forward and blocked my view.
“So,” he said haltingly, “what do you want to talk about? Is there a problem?”
“Yes,” I decided to get straight to the point, “I’ve been losing consciousness a lot lately, and it always
happens when you’re alone with me, you know…”
“Maybe you should rest.” Max spoke so quickly that I didn’t even understand
what he said before it all disappeared.
“Wake up, Melanie,” Max’s voice said, “open your eyes.”
I opened my eyes. My brother was standing in front of me, arms crossed, looking quite smug.
I looked up at him and realized I was sitting on his bed.
When did I sit down?
"You asked about losing consciousness," Max reminded me. "What do you want to know?"
My mind was as chaotic as ever. It took me a few seconds to sort out my thoughts. "Um," I
managed to say, "Do you...do you know how I ended up like this?"
"No," he answered simply, but just like that, I realized how stupid I was to
question him. Of course, Max wouldn't know what was wrong with me. I sighed deeply.
"Oh, okay, thanks..."
"But," Max interrupted me, "since you asked, I can guess. Maybe it's
related to some kind of hormone, you know, like puberty, it's just a part of growing up."
I recalled my strange behavior earlier, wanting others to see me, to fantasize about my body.
Could it be because of hormones?
"I mean, it's possible," Max added, "isn't it?"
Yes, it was quite possible.
I suddenly wanted to tell Max about what had happened earlier, about my naughty thoughts and slightly exposing
my body. It didn't seem like a topic that siblings could discuss, but Max and I were so close,
like best friends, that we could talk about anything.
So I told him.
I told him how I deliberately stretched to show off my breasts, how the attention made me
feel aroused, and how much I felt sexually. He remained silent the whole time. When I finished, I
looked down at my knees, feeling embarrassed.
This awkward silence seemed to last forever.
Then my brother said something strange.
"That went too smoothly," he said, as if talking to himself.
"What?"
"You're right, sis, it's sexy. You should do that at home too, show off your sexy body confidently
, consider it practice. I mean, I can suggest how you can do it even better."
I didn't know how to respond. What Max said... was so right. I should listen to him. Anyway,
we've always been so close, and no matter what, I completely trust Max.
I thanked him and went back to my room. For some reason, I felt a little strange, I
couldn't say whether it was good or bad, it was just a little strange, I couldn't explain why. I shrugged. Maybe it really was just
hormones acting up.
"Max," Mom asked, yawning, "why do you want those old photos?"
"No reason, just a little curious. Let me put it this way, I saw a photo of Me and Mei when we were little,
taking a bath together. Did you often do that?"
"Let you two bathe together?" Mom shrugged. "Maybe. Why do you ask?"
My younger brother was kneeling in front of the DVD player, holding a disc. He glanced at me. "Just
think it's fun. Don't you think it's interesting, Mei?"
I raised my eyebrows. "It's okay."
It was obvious. Why waste twice the time bathing two little kids separately? We could kill
two birds with one stone (or you could say bathing two babies at once). Like Mom, I was a little confused as to why Max
brought this up.
Meanwhile, Dad was getting increasingly impatient with the movie Max recommended. "How much longer?" he complained
.
"Okay, okay," Max replied impatiently, "It's starting."
Images appeared on the TV screen, accompanied by soft music. Max stood up, saying he was going to
get some popcorn, and asked if we wanted anything before leaving the room.
This time, I watched especially intently. Last time Max recommended this movie, I actually fell
asleep. He kept assuring me it was the best movie, a psychological film about disrupting the mind. This
time, I absolutely couldn't fall asleep, I told myself.
The moment I regained consciousness was the instant I woke up.
Screw it.
I can only say that every time I fall asleep while watching a movie, it means it's terrible!
The room was empty except for Max and me. He was taking the disc out of the machine; Mom and Dad
weren't in the room.
"I told Mom and Dad to go to sleep," Max said, answering my question before I could even speak
. "I'll tidy up in a few seconds, then we'll go downstairs to take care of some business."
Take care of some business? What business?
My brother put the disc back in its case and set it aside. Then he turned to me, staring at me with
a gaze that was definitely not the look between siblings. His gaze slowly moved from between my legs, finally settling
on my chest.
I remembered our previous conversation; he wanted to help me be sexy. I wasn't sure
what Max wanted me to do, so I thrust my breasts out and used my arms to temptively squeeze them, making my chest appear
fuller.
Max grinned, showing his teeth, which I thought meant I was doing well.
I was so glad to have such a supportive brother.
He stood up and walked towards me, looking at my face. "Sis, you don't look very clean. I'm about
to take a shower too, wanna come together?"
I smiled awkwardly, thinking he was just joking, but then I saw his expression and realized he
wasn't joking, but he couldn't be serious either. I opened my mouth wide, but couldn't think of anything to say
.
"What's the big deal, Melanie? We've always bathed together since we were little. There's nothing
strange about it, is there? It's perfectly normal for siblings to bathe together."
My head was buzzing, different from the sudden loss of consciousness I'd felt earlier, yet somewhat similar, as
if something was changing inside my brain.
Max was right; it wasn't strange at all, and it saved water. He was right.
It was a natural thing to do, not like bathing with just anyone I'd bumped into at school. He
was Max; he would only do what was best for me. He was such a good brother.
"Don't worry, Melanie, you trust me, right?"
"Of course," I answered quickly, completely trusting my brother.
"Then come on." He gestured for me to follow him.
My brother wasn't nearly as reserved as I was. As soon as we entered the bathroom, he naturally took off his clothes. Even though I knew it was perfectly natural, 　　I still felt inexplicably shy and embarrassed
as his clothes appeared one by one in the laundry basket. 　　Finally, Max stood naked in front of me. My gaze automatically drifted downwards, and I noticed 　　two things: Max's penis was huge—very large, and erect. 　　I looked away, feeling extremely awkward. 　　When I realized Max was looking at me, waiting for me to undress, I felt incredibly ashamed 　　. 　　"It's okay, it's natural and normal," I told myself, and slowly began to undress 　　. 　　I was wearing pajamas and no bra, so there wasn't much clothing left to take off. I 　　took it slow, starting with the top of the pajamas and slowly unbuttoning the front. 　　At first, Max could only see my neck and collar, then my breasts, then my stomach. 　　Finally, I let the clothes slip off my shoulders, and Max saw everything. 　　Then I took off my pants. I tried to ignore Max's gaze and the way my full 　　breasts bounced with every movement. 　　Throughout the whole process, Max didn't say a word; he just watched. 　　After I was completely naked, Max started showering and gestured for me to join him, so I obediently 　　went over. 　　The water was so hot, much hotter than I was used to when I showered. My body was pressed tightly against my brother's, feeling 　　the hot water hitting me.

Our bodies were pressed close together, my shoulder against his chest, my skin feeling the warmth of his body
.
"Turn around," Max said, lathering his hands with soap, "I'll wash your back."
I obediently listened; my brother was always right.
When his hands touched me, it felt like an electric current ran through my body. All my consciousness
was focused on the touch of his hands. He gently stroked my shoulders, slid down to my waist,
and then moved to my sides. Several times his fingers brushed against the edge of my breasts, and each time I felt
as if an electric current was shooting out from his fingers, passing through my body. His touch was so wonderful and
exciting.
He washed my stomach from behind, his hands encircling my body. I didn't say anything. Then he
started washing my breasts. I closed my eyes, feeling the almost suffocating sensation. Every time he touched my
nipples, I couldn't help but moan softly—I tried my best to hide my growing lust.
I absolutely didn't want my brother to know my reaction to his touch. He would definitely think I was strange.
We were just naturally showering together, like any other siblings, but my body was so
sensitive.
It must be He's doing, I thought.
My brother's hand moved down to my crotch and then stopped. Thank God, I couldn't
imagine how my body would react if he started stimulating my genitals.
"I think that's enough for today," Max said. In the daze of a surge of pleasure, I
could barely hear what he said. "Grab a towel and go to sleep."
Completely dazed, I couldn't think straight and could only obediently follow my brother's instructions.
Before leaving the bathroom, I glanced at my brother again. He continued showering, one arm propped against the wall
, the other hand quickly cleaning his penis.
(To be continued)

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