“So,” he said, dropping into his preferred chair in the living room.  "Do you think that you are in control of your limbs?“

 

She looked up, closing her book and setting it aside.  "That is a loaded question.”

 

“What do you mean?  It’s simple question, Do you think that you are in control of your limbs?”

 

She sighed, her hands moving to undo the buttons on her shirt and shrug it off.  "If you are asking me that question, then clearly I am not.“

 

"You don’t think that you are in control of your limbs?”

 

“Like I said, if you’re asking me that question, then I’m not.” She unhooked her bra and slid it off.  "You don’t ask loaded questions like that without a purpose.“

 

He tilted his head, looking at her.  "What purpose would I have for asking if you are in control of your limbs?”

 

She kicked her shoes off.  "To let me know that I’m not actually in control of my limbs.”

 

“Do you think that you are not in control of your limbs?”

 

“I am fairly certain that I am not.”  She stood up and unzipped her jeans, pushing them off her hips and kicking them aside.

 

He tilted his head. “But you are not entirely certain that you are in control of your limbs.”

 

She dropped to her knees. “Come on, we both know that you can tie my mind in whatever knots you desire. Including making me think that I am in control when I’m not, or even that I’m someplace where I’m not. Or have you forgotten the margarita incident?”

 

He chuckled. “I haven’t forgotten that. But as I recall, you had control of your limbs then.”

 

Crawling across the floor on her hands and knees, she came to a stop just in front of him.  “But that doesn’t mean I have it now.”

 

“No, that’s true.  You may or may not have control of your limbs now.”

 

She reached up and closed one hand around his cock. “Exactly my point.”

 

“And if you don’t have control of your limbs, then I probably do.”

 

She rested her other hand on his thigh.  “Correct.”

 

He smiled. “And if I have control of your limbs, then really, don’t I have total control of you, doll?”

 

Her eyes glazed even more than they had been since the conversation started. “Yes, you have total control of me,” she said in a distracted tone before leaning over and placing her lips on his cock, sliding them down to meet her hand and then back up, letting his hand in her hair guide her rhythm and his words everything else.  He had total control of her, from her limbs to her mind.

 

“Come, doll,” she heard him say, even as he came in her mouth. She moaned in pleasure as she came in response to the command, trembling with her orgasm, even as she swallowed.

 

“That’s it, come, doll,” he said, gently guiding her head off his cock and pulling it back to he could watch her as she cried out under the pleasure she could not resist, could not control.

 

As she started to settle from her second orgasm, he reached out and dragged the pad of his thumb down the bridge of her nose. “Sleep, doll.”

 

She woke still kneeling on the floor, head on his thigh and still feeling really good from the orgasms. “Did you have fun?” she asked, looking up at her lover.

 

He smiled. “It was much more interesting since I did not expect you to act like you potentially knew what was going on.  Did you realize what you were doing?”

 

“I knew, in an abstract way, that I was undressing, but my brain didn’t connect it to the specific trigger or even that you had triggered me. Even as I argued about it.”

 

He laughed. “I expected you to argue that of course you were, but I guess I should have been more explicit there. I just said that you would respond normally even as you removed a specific clothing item for each mention of the trigger. After you stopped what you were doing.”

 

“And then crawl to you and get ready to blow you once I admitted that you had total control of me. Which you have had for years.”

 

“Yes, but it’s still fucking hot to hear you say it. And you can’t deny it made you wetter to admit it.”

 

She grinned. “I won’t deny it. But I think you forgot something in the specific clothing triggers.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“I’m still wearing my socks.”

 

He glanced up and she felt him laugh as he took in the llama socks on her feet.

 

“Well, we will have to do something about that, won’t we, my pretty posable doll?”

 

Her thoughts ground to an immediate halt. “Play with me sir,” she said automatically as she surrendered again to his total control.