Yes Sir

by Jukebox

Tags: #consensual_kink #dom:male #f/m #hypnosis #pov:bottom #sub:female #consensual #erotic_hypnosis #hypno #hypnokink #hypnotized

Morgan meets the literal man of her hypnotic fantasies, and convinces him to give her a chance as his submissive.

Morgan felt a warm wave of placid contentment settle over her as she knelt down on the cushion placed in front of her, all of the excitement and anticipation and tension finally fading away into a profound stillness that captured her mind and left her gazing spellbound into Glen's sparkling blue eyes. Maybe it was just her imagination, maybe she'd just been daydreaming about this moment for so many months now that she was trying to will it into existence now that it had arrived, but she felt like his intense stare was already hypnotizing her. And her whole body throbbed with a pleasant tingle at the thought.

Glen cupped Morgan's chin in his lean and bony fingers, not moving or guiding it but simply holding her still and helpless in his strong carpenter's hand, and Morgan reveled in the scent of him as he leaned closer. There was cedar and pine still clinging to his clothing, and beneath that the lingering perfume of some kind of soap or body wash, and deeper beneath all that the notes of masculine arousal that she knew she was bringing out in him despite her pale, waifish body. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked, as though the days of discussion and the hours of preparation and her nude and kneeling form weren't enough to reassure him. As though he wanted to give her every way out he could.

Morgan didn't want any of them. "Yes sir," she murmured meekly, staring unblinking into his eyes as she uttered the words in a tone of reverent devotion and let her chin sag into his grip. She wanted to do so much more than talk, she wanted to spread her legs and rub her pussy and pinch her long stiff nipples until they stood up from her flat chest like water towers on the Kansas plains she knew from her childhood... but it was Glen's time to make the decisions now. She was giving herself to him, body and mind and oh god especially body, and that meant she needed to show him that she could exercise discipline under his control.

Under his control. Oh god. Suddenly the excitement was back again, a great rush of it that throbbed out from Morgan's soaking cunt and spilled through every nerve in her body until she could feel the heat of it washing into her toes and tingling her scalp underneath her short ash blonde hair. She imagined her marble skin going from icy white to beet red all over, betraying her arousal to Glen's bright blue eyes, and only the fact that she couldn't look away from his captivating stare kept her from glancing down at herself in mortified embarrassment to see if it was really happening to her. She couldn't stop tripping over her own anticipation. She was actually here. It was actually all real.

And that gaze, that hypnotic gaze, that was the most real thing of all. "Okay, pretty girl, if you're ready," Glen said, his voice mellowing into a husky baritone, and if there was a hint of reluctance in his soothing tones it was counterbalanced by the obvious bulge in his jeans. He was turned on by this too, even if his extra years of experience allowed him to keep his excitement under tighter control, and a shiver ran down Morgan's spine at the unforeseen and unanticipated notion that he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him. She--she still couldn't get over the idea that she'd pestered him into this. Or maybe worse.

But it wasn't like she'd done any of it on purpose. When Morgan moved into Apartment 5H, just one door down the hall from the charming older man with the salt-and-pepper hair and the well-kept goatee who made furniture for a living, she didn't know who he was. It was only when she heard Glen's voice as they passed each other that she instantly made the connection to the files she furtively listened to late at night in her bedroom back home, the ones that made her nipples stiffen and her eyes glaze over and her fingers dance in excitement on her swollen clit. And even when she did hear him speak, it was easy to convince herself that she'd just gone a little bit overboard with her attraction to older men and let her imagination run away with her.

But as the days went by and Morgan bumped into him again and again, their conversations lengthening as she got used to seeing him every day when she left for afternoon classes, she became more and more convinced that the voice was one and the same. She'd listened to every single one of The Silver-Tongued Gentleman's files, after all. She'd been downloading them in secret practically ever since puberty, her dawning sexual awareness coming in tandem with her developing fetish for erotic hypnosis and... well, not that Morgan ever had any intention of letting her rigidly conservative parents know that she knew what a 'zaddy' was, but they definitely formed the backbone of most of her favorite masturbatory fantasies in high school and college. And as far as her pussy was concerned, STG was the zaddiest zaddy of them all.

And she was going to grad school just down the hall from him. It was the worst kind of erotic torture, made all the more tantalizing by the way he was so genuinely sweet and kind to her--somehow Morgan thought that when she moved in next door to one of the best erotic hypnotists on the entire fucking Internet, it would only be a matter of weeks before he seduced her into his thrall with some kind of covert and irresistible induction. But no, he just fixed her writing desk when it broke and made dinner for her one Friday night when she was too tired to cook and too broke to order out. One of the biggest surprises in Morgan's twenty-six years on this Earth was her discovery that the Silver-Tongued Gentleman was exactly that.

But she couldn't stay quiet forever once she knew. It just wasn't possible, not when the faceless figure in her favorite erotic hypnosis files had been replaced by Glen's sparkling blue eyes and distinguished salt-and-pepper beard. Masturbation, already Morgan's favorite way of blowing off steam at the end of a stressful day of work and classes, became an obsessive ritual that ended every night with her muzzy brain lost in horny fantasies of confessing everything to him and sighing in rapt obedience as he finally admitted his desire for Morgan and took her will at last. Sometimes she fell asleep with her fingers still in her pussy and Glen's voice in her ears.

Of course it didn't happen that way when she finally let it slip that she knew. It didn't even come out on purpose--they were cleaning up after dinner, one of those Friday night dinners that had gradually become a regular thing over the course of her first semester, and he said to her, "Make you a deal--you take care of the dishes, and I'll get us a couple of slices of leftover Boston cream pie out of the fridge. Sound good?"

And before she could even think about it, years of conditioning and months of particularly intense reinforcement and a few especially long nights of exhaustion prompted Morgan to respond, "Yes sir," in the exact same meek and submissive tones she used when she was unthinkingly replying to his hypnotic voice in her ears. And just in case she thought there was still any chance of playing it cool, the moment Morgan realized what she'd done her trembling fingers let go of the plates she was holding in a flustered panic and they went crashing to the floor.

The next few hours--hell, the next few days--were kind of awkward. Morgan admitted to recognizing his voice, and while Glen acted flattered, she could tell that he felt a little bit exposed by someone in his everyday life making the connection to his hypnotic alter-ego. And when she told him just how long she'd been listening to his files, Morgan could practically see him doing the mental arithmetic in his head and coming up with a number that made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Look," she told him, "I'm twenty-six now, whatever age I might have been when I first heard your voice. Twenty-six isn't young and it isn't naive--"

"But it is a lot younger than forty," he interrupted, cutting off her argument with a polite but firm tone that he probably didn't realize was making Morgan's cunt throb. "I like you, I really do, and I'm happy we can be friends and I'm glad we've gotten to know each other. But it would be inappropriate to take advantage of the conditioning you've built up to, to... I don't know, to draw you into some kind of relationship you're not really ready for. You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

"Yes sir," Morgan said again, blushing furiously when she realized what she'd just said. It was already obvious to both of them that she wasn't going to be able to keep her mind off of him, even if they didn't know what that meant just yet.

But it was clear that Glen enjoyed having someone he could open up to about that side of his life, just as Morgan loved finally having a person she could talk to about all the sexual feelings she'd been forced to repress back home. By the time she'd gotten through discussing her fixation with older men, her submissive streak, her oral fetish, and the erotic hypnosis kink that tied it all together, Morgan could tell she was wearing down Glen's resolve. Which of course only made her nightly masturbation sessions more intense... and more awkward, too, since a part of her couldn't quite forget, even in deep trance, that the man she was jilling off to was her next-door neighbor and off-limits in real life.

Which just made the orgasms more taboo and more arousing. There were times when Morgan thought she was pioneering a brand-new fetish.

And finally, about three weeks ago, after Glen caught her looking at him with those puppy-dog hazel eyes of hers as he tried to take care of the dishes himself to prevent her from settling into an instinctual groove of obedience, he stopped and sighed. "This isn't doing either one of us any good, is it?" he asked, and the tiny little shake of Morgan's head told him everything he needed to know. "Alright," he said. "Let's talk about what you actually want out of this, and see if there's some way to give it to you that doesn't make me feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

And now, days of negotiation later, Morgan was looking up into his eyes, ready to be hypnotized... no, it was already past that, wasn't it? She... she'd been staring up at him for ages now, her thoughts wandering absently while her shoulders slumped and her muscles relaxed and her chin sagged into his supportive hand until she felt like it would tumble forward onto her chest the moment he released it, and she--she was in a deep trance. She'd fallen victim to his mesmerizing gaze and her whole mind was simply drifting unmoored through every memory that led up to this culminating moment of total surrender. "That's it, pretty girl," Glen purred, his voice coaxing her further and further into the sleepy submission she'd dreamed of for years.

Morgan's cheeks dimpled in a drowsy smile as she finally let her eyes close in a long, slow, timeless blink that ended with her glassy stare locking right back onto Glen. "yessir," she mumbled, loving the way her voice slurred and stumbled just like in each and every one of her nighttime fantasies. Her cunt throbbed, and the only thing more delightful than her arousal was the sure and certain knowledge that its release was entirely under the control of the older man whose hypnotic gaze was gradually crumbling her will into warm, delicious ecstasy. He was taking possession of his property. Morgan was feeling more and more owned with every passing moment.

Her brain momentarily fuzzed out into blissful euphoria, and when it returned she found that her fingers had floated down to her pussy exactly the way she'd fantasized about so many times. "yes sir," she droned out, now speaking in an empty monotone that only emphasized her hypnotic trance, and she quickly learned that hearing how deep she was only made her go that much deeper. Her eyes closed again, this time failing to reopen, and Morgan's first climax for her new lover turned out to be better than anything she'd ever daydreamed about.

But as wonderful as it felt, it was only the beginning of the pleasure Morgan was about to receive. He commanded her to relax and go deeper, and her sighed and sleepy "yes sir" felt so instinctive and automatic coming from her lips that she almost didn't feel like she was even saying it. Glen's repeated questions all had only one possible answer, both because she was hypnotized to recite it and because everything he promised her sounded so delightful, and almost before she knew it her jaw was hanging open in a slack, helpless vacancy that slurred her speech into the most deliciously erotic monotonous drone. She was... god, she was so deep already. It felt perfect.

And that vacancy demanded something to fill it. Glen didn't just shove his cock into her mouth, though, despite the implicit invitation of her slack jaw and absently lolling tongue; he teased her with it, rubbing his stiff prick over Morgan's lips and using his warm hypnotic baritone to turn the flavor of his precum into a potent aphrodisiac. Morgan was... well, even at twenty-six she wasn't that experienced, not with decades of repression to unpack and some very specific standards for a man that she never thought she'd fulfill, and the salty taste was entirely unfamiliar to her. But her fingers kept moving inside her pussy, the mesmerizing voice kept lulling her deeper into obedience, and her mumbled "yssr" kept drawing her deeper even as it became almost impossible to understand.

She didn't remember exactly when she started sucking his cock. It all seemed so gradual, so seductive, and anyway Morgan's brain kept fuzzing out into distracted ecstasy as she sank deeper and rubbed harder between her messy thighs; one moment he was caressing her face with the shaft of his stiff prick, letting his balls rest between her parted lips while he asserted his dominance by smearing musky, salty precum all over her cheeks and forehead, and the next her mouth was bobbing up and down on him while she repeated "yes sir" in an entirely muffled grunt that she knew he nonetheless comprehended perfectly. It was all her fantasies fulfilled, the desire to be of service and of use to an older male authority figure hitting every single hot button Morgan had, and once she started cumming for Glen she couldn't seem to make herself stop.

At least, not until he finally gushed spurt after spurt of gooey jizz onto her tongue, faster than she could possibly swallow it all. It almost surprised Morgan how quickly she made him cum, but her wrinkled fingertips suggested that maybe time didn't mean quite as much to her when she was deeply hypnotized like that. She slid off him, semen dribbling down her chin in a tableau that was simultaneously embarrassing and incredibly hot, and smiled a dreamy, unfocused smile of pure joy. "Yes sir," she whispered, the words encompassing everything he could possibly ask her and everything she could possibly give, and the look of praise and approval in his eyes felt better than all the climaxes still resonating through her drowsy body.

Then Glen cleaned her up and cuddled her and told her what a good girl she was, and Morgan's first experience with aftercare told her she'd made exactly the right choice in men.


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