“Clea?” Isabella said uncertainly, stepping into the supply closet after her secretary - and now, her lover. “Um… what did you need help finding, exactly?”

“Uh… pens?” Clea lied unconvincingly. She couldn’t keep the grin from her face. “Quick, shut the door behind you!”

Isabella blushed. She seemed to sense what was happening. “I-I don’t know if that’s appropriate for-“

Clea ignored her, reached back over her boss’s shoulder, and pushed the closet door shut. Isabella fell silent and shivered when she felt Clea’s breath on her skin.

“There.” Clea giggled. “Now we’re all alone.”

At that, Isabella blushed deeper and clasped one of her arms with the opposite hand in a rare display of nervousness.

“Clea, w-we’re at work,” she stuttered. “We said we’d keep things professional at the off-“

“And we will,” Clea soothed. She took Isabella by the hand, leading her deeper into the cramped closet. Despite her protests, Isabella didn’t resist. “Nobody can see us in here. Nobody saw us come in here. As far as the rest of the office is concerned, we’re just two coworkers who’ve gone out to lunch.”

“But…” Isabella whimpered. Her will was weakening. Clea’s touch, even when they were just holding hands, was intoxicating. “But what if someone else comes in here…”

“Then…”

Abruptly, Clea pulled Isabella off balance and then shoved her against a nearby stack of shelves. Isabella gasped with surprise, but then her breath caught as Clea pressed against her.

“Then we’re just looking for some pens,” Clea purred. “Nothing embarrassing about that, right?”

“I… I-I don’t…” Isabella was trying to look anywhere but at Clea - and failing. Her secretary’s presence was overpowering. “We c-can’t…”

Clea loved watching her blush and stutter. It was so cute. And she knew exactly what was going on inside her beloved boss’s head.

Isabella is a lesbian.

Isabella is attracted to Clea.

Isabella craves sexual contact with Clea.

Clea knows what’s best for Isabella.

Isabella can’t resist Clea.

All of those post-hypnotic suggestions had been fermenting inside of Isabella for some time now. They were part of her, and she’d already succumbed to them time and again. Thanks to Clea’s hypnosis videos, her relationship with Isabella had been completely transformed. Longing for Clea had overcome Isabella’s reluctance, and the two of them were in the throes of a passionate, loving, and increasingly kinky affair. That mostly took place outside of work, though, on discreet dates or at Clea’s apartment.

Clea liked Isabella being submissive towards her, but she didn’t want to undermine her boss’s dominance in the office. She knew that Isabella was rightly proud of her seniority and the respect she commanded - and Clea didn’t want her any other way.

Besides, 'boss in the streets, bottom in the sheets’ was really, really hot. So hot, Clea couldn’t resist pushing her luck while they were both taking a lunch break.

“Clea… c’mon…” Isabella tried once again to rally herself, despite the giddy smile that kept threatening to appear on her flushed face. “Please- fuck!”

She broke off into hopeless moaning as one of Clea’s hands slipped down her leg, up her skirt, and pressed forcefully against the front of her panties. Clea smiled as she noted that Isabella was already wet.

“Please?” Clea teased. “Please fuck you? Babe, I’d love to.”

She started working her fingers up and down in slow, rhythmic patterns that she just knew would drive Isabella crazy. Her boss slumped back against the shelves as her legs turned to jelly, and she reached out weakly to Clea for support.

“Oh… my… god!” Isabella panted. She grinned, turning light-headed from the sheer pleasure. “H-how are you so good at this?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Clea replied, smirking. “And I’m going to practice on you a lot more.”

“Fuck. Fuck!” Isabella moaned as Clea kept working her, and pulled her panties to one side so she could touch her directly. Isabella’s hair was already matting with the sweat that had started to form on her forehead.

“Still want me to stop?” Clea asked teasingly. She loved the look of awe and intoxication she could see on Isabella’s face. This was all so new to her. Every time they fucked it was life-changing.

“N-n-noooo!” Isabella howled. She was a puppet beneath Clea’s fingers now. Clea rewarded her by pushing two fingertips inside her boss’s pussy.

“Careful now,” Clea tutted, pumping her fingers in and out. “If you moan like that, someone’s going to hear us.”

Isabella’s eyes flew wide. Mortified, she clamped a hand over her own mouth to try and stifle her moans. It only half-worked. For a few sweet moments, she’d been lost to bliss, but now embarrassment and nervous agitation were creeping back into her face.

“Can’t… c-can’t…” she whined, struggling to control her voice. “I… please… we… n-no more!”

“No more?” Clea giggled. “Sure, Bella.”

Suddenly, she pulled back. Clea took her hands away from Isabella’s body and stepped pointedly away from her. Despite her plea, Isabella let out a groan of disappointment and frustration even more desperate than any of her begging, and as her legs gave way beneath her, she slumped limply to her knees.

The look of longing in her eyes was like a drug to Clea.

“I guess we’ll just go back out into the office, then?” Clea teased.

The suggestion was comical. Isabella was a mess. Usually, she cut an immaculate figure, looking every bit like the clever, collected, hard-working professional she was. Now, her clothes were wrinkled and her blouse was untucked, and her face was a mess of sweat-ruined makeup. Her eyes were glassy and faded from the arousal that was suppressing her better judgment.

She’d tasted the forbidden fruit Clea offered. There was no going back.

“W-wait…” Isabella pleaded. “I… I need you.”

Clea’s grin grew to stretch from ear to ear. She was every bit as intoxicated as Isabella. Having Isabella give in to her, submit to her, had done wonders for her confidence. Any reservations she might have had about what she was doing to Isabella, or about instigating a dominant-submissive relationship between them, had faded away into nothing.

It just felt too good to be wrong. For both of them.

“OK.” Clea turned back to her, smirking wickedly. “Then, since you can’t seem to keep your voice down, let’s have you use your mouth for something different.”

Isabella looked up at her quizzically until Clea reached down and started to unfasten her belt. Once she slipped out of her smart work pants and began removing her panties, Isabella turned a deeper red than ever before. She didn’t resist, though. She was beyond that now. She was drowning in submission.

“Yes, Clea,” Isabella said breathily. Just hearing that was a fresh infusion of pleasure for Clea.

“Then it’s time to get to work, babe.”

Clea stood above her boss, naked below the waist, legs planted slightly apart, and stared down at her. Isabella looked up with an expression of awe-filled worship on her face. She was practically drooling as she started leaning forward, putting her hands on Clea’s thighs and bringing her face so close, Clea could feel the older woman’s breath against her skin.

“I…” Isabella glanced down. She fixed her gaze on Clea’s sex. Suddenly, she looked uncertain. When she spoke, it sounded like her throat was dry. “I’ve never… um… I-I might not be good.”

Seeing Isabella as shy and nervous as a schoolgirl was a rare treat. Clea’s smirk softened into a warm smile.

“Don’t worry,” she promised her lover. “Soon, you’ll have plenty of experience.”

And before Isabella could second-guess herself any further, Clea rested her palm on the back of her head and used it to gently but firmly guide Isabella’s face into her cunt.

The very first touch made her moan. This was the first time Clea had made Isabella go down on her. In their previous intimate encounters, Isabella had been so uncertain and so submissive, it had seemed perfectly natural for Clea to take the lead and show Isabella just how much pleasure lesbian sex could offer. This time certainly wouldn’t be the last, though. This was way too good to pass up on.

“Good,” Clea panted when she felt Isabella’s tongue beginning to explore her flesh. “Good girl. Deeper.”

Isabella obeyed Clea’s every word. Clea could use her hand on her hand to guide her too, controlling her pace and her depth. It was like Isabella was her own personal sex toy. There was something breathtakingly hot about knowing her husband had never experienced her quite like this.

“Yes!” Clea moaned as Isabella pushed her tongue deeper, hitting her most sensitive spot. “Good. More. Deeper.”

Again, Isabella obeyed. Clea could sense her eagerness. Her focus. All her attention was on Clea’s cunt, and on bringing Clea as much pleasure as possible. Even if someone had walked in on them,  Clea doubted Isabella would have noticed. Pleasing and obeying Clea came before anything else. Clea’s brainwashing had seen to that. All her most potent psychological urges now revolved around her secretary.

Isabella wanted her. She needed her. She craved her. She trusted her.

It was so hot.

“Now change it up,” Clea instructed. She felt Isabella pull back, and guided her tongue towards Clea’s clit. “Find a rhythm. Keep it for a while. Then find a new one. But not too quick. Let the pleasure build. Know your partner. Pay attention to how they’re reacting.”

Eager to learn, Isabella nodded. Clea was certainly reacting to her attentions. Her body was shaking and quivering with every lick and every kiss, and her words were all punctuated by moans. Unlike Isabella, Clea had no qualms about making some noise. She wanted Isabella to know exactly how good of a job she was doing.

More and more, her boss was warming to the task at hand. She spent long moments kissing and sucking on Clea’s clit, then kept rubbing it in little circles with her thumb as she moved her lips back to Clea’s, pressing her tongue inside her worshipfully.

Clea was smirking again. Isabella might be inexperienced now, but Clea could already tell that within a few months, she was going to be an amazing pussylicker.

“No!” Clea cried when she felt Isabella trying to pull back to take a breath. “More. Don’t stop. I’m close.”

With a firm hand, she kept Isabella pressed tight against her body. Even though she was breathless from her exertions, Isabella didn’t fight her. She did as she was told. Isabella wrapped her hands around the backs of Clea’s thighs and used them to hug herself even closer, and started working her tongue in and out of Clea’s body with even greater urgency. Clea twitched and heaved at her touch; each lap of her tongue was like an electric shock. She started bucking her hips, grinding herself against Isabella’s face and leaving the older woman with no space to breathe, no room for anything but Clea.

“Yes!” Clea howled eventually. “I’m… fuck!”

Clea hit the edge and let herself topple over. Her orgasm lasted a long time - she made sure of that, keeping Isabella firmly pressed into her cunt as waves and waves of pleasure crashed over her, each one taken to fresh heights by her boss’s eager tongue. It lasted until moan after moan pushed all the air out of Clea’s lungs, until, eventually, her grip on Isabella weakened and the older woman could slump back and start gasping for air.

Both of them were deeply flushed, and both of them were smiling.

Now it was Clea’s turn to collapse. Her knees were jelly beneath her, and once her orgasm receded she allowed herself to fall into a heap on the floor of the supply closet, right next to the woman whose face was slick with her juices. Soon, the two of them were in each other arms, seeking warmth and comfort, and basking in the afterglow - for Clea, of her orgasm, for Isabella, of having pleased Clea so well.

“Good girl,” Clea murmured, after her breathing started to steady. “You did an amazing job.”

Somehow, Isabella blushed deeper still. It was obvious that she could barely contain her happiness at being praised by Clea. Seeing that brought a fresh smile to Clea’s face. She reached for Isabella’s hand to hold.

As they interlocked fingers, Clea felt metal.

Isabella’s wedding ring.

Clea had thought nothing could sour her mood, but somehow, just a little, that managed it. It was an unpleasant reminder that Isabella’s husband still had something Clea didn’t. A wedding ring was such a potent symbol. She wished she had something like that with Clea.

“You should take this off,” Clea said quietly, rolling Isabella’s ring finger between her fingertips.

“I…” Isabella looked down.

“When we hook up, at least,” Clea added.

Isabella was silent for a long moment. “I… that’s just…” She sighed. Clea did too. There it was again. That reluctance. Clea knew what she was going to say next before she even opened her mouth. “I know I’m already… and I know it’s not the greatest marriage. But… I made a promise. You know? This ring is a promise. Not to him. But to myself. I swore I’d always wear it.”

“Right.”

Isabella looked dismayed at how disappointed Clea was. She squeezed Clea’s hand tight. “I love what we have together, Clea,” she pleaded. “So… why don’t we just keep it going like this?”

Clea made herself smile. But she wasn’t happy, and she knew Isabella wasn’t either. Her marriage was miserable. Her husband was an ogre. Isabella was a lesbian, and Clea was the one she truly loved. Now that she’d come this far, Clea was determined to go all the way. She was going to make Isabella hers, and give her the relationship she deserved.

She’d successfully forged a lovers’ bond with Isabella. Now she just needed to break the one Isabella had with her husband. It wouldn’t be hard and it wouldn’t take cruelty. All it would take is a little push. Clea was confident that, deep down, Isabella knew which relationship was right for her.

This time, Clea didn’t need advice from her friend Bruna. She’d already made all the preparations.

“I understand,” Clea told Isabella. She paused for a moment, letting them enjoy the silence. Then: “Hey, so, you’re probably getting tired of hearing this, but I made you another music video.”

Isabella’s face brightened. “No, not at all!” she exclaimed. “I love them, they always help me relax. I listen to them a lot. Kind of an embarrassing amount, actually.”

“I’m glad.” Clea giggled. She was, for more reasons than Isabella knew. No wonder the conditioning was working so well. She pulled out her phone and started tapping. “Well, here it is. Watch it right away, OK?”

“Absolutely!” Isabella’s phone chimed as the email came in. “I can’t wait, I promise. I’ll watch it today. Hey, wait, where are you going?”

Clea had stood up and was already fixing her clothes and heading for the supply closet door. She smiled - genuinely, this time. “My lunch break is almost over. I should be getting back to work. Right, boss?”

“O-oh. Um. I guess.” Isabella rose to her feet too, and blushed again as she looked down and noticed how messy her clothes were. “But… um… but…”

“But what?” Clea glanced back. She already knew, of course.

Isabella squeezed her thighs together and shivered. “Y-you didn’t make me… you know.”

Clea flashed her a wicked smirk before opening the door. “All the more incentive for you to be nice and early to our date later.”

***

Isabella was smiling all day. Despite some embarrassment and more than a little frustration, the joy of her little supply closet encounter with Clea stayed with her through all of the afternoon’s various meetings and emails. She stayed late, as usual, and only ran home to get changed so she could look pretty for her date with Clea.

It had just been a little movie date, but even so Isabella had cherished the experience. Seeing her outside of the office was always special. When they were out in the world together, just the two of them, they didn’t need to pretend to just be boss and secretary. They could enjoy their relationship to the fullest.

And Clea could make good on the promise she’d made Isabella earlier. Thinking about that still turned the older woman bright red.

As Isabella drove home, though, her smile was rapidly fading. She couldn’t help but think about what - or rather, who - she was going home to. Her husband. There couldn’t have been more of a contrast between him and Clea. Where Clea was giving and patient, Isabella’s husband was nothing but selfish; angry and frigid by turns as his petulant moods took him. Isabella was the type to stand by her partner no matter what, but hearing that he didn’t want a family with her had broken her heart, and now that she’d figured out things with Clea, her marriage felt more and more like a curse rather than a blessing.

After all, she was a lesbian. She couldn’t orgasm with men, and she craved submission to women. What was she doing with her life?

Stepping through her own front door felt like getting a bucket of icy water dumped over her head. Isabella yearned to linger with Clea instead. To bask in her newfound happiness for just a little longer.

Then it dawned on her. Why not do just that?

Isabella took the next turn, and then pulled over at the side of the road. It was just a little no-name out-of-town access road and the day had long since ended, so Isabella could be sure she wasn’t going to be disturbed. Leaving the engine ticking over and turning on an overhead light, she reached for her phone and her earbuds, and loaded up the music video Clea had prepared for her.

She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Clea that she watched her videos an embarrassing amount. They had become Isabella’s go-to way to relax, whenever the stresses of work or her marriage got too much. Somehow, Clea’s voice had a way of instantly putting her at ease and making all her cares fade away. Isabella was always left so completely and totally relaxed, she couldn’t even remember what had happened. And in the aftermath, she was gifted with a fresh sense of clarity about herself and her situation. It was amazing. No other kind of meditation even came close.

And all that was from just two videos. Isabella couldn’t wait to see what the third one would feel like.

Isabella propped her phone up on her dash, put in her earbuds, reclined her seat, leaned back, and hit ‘play’.

Even though it was just her phone, within moments it seemed to take up Isabella’s entire vision. Her eyes were laser-focused on the center of the screen, and there was nothing at all in her world except for the vivid, swirling patterns that had suddenly come to life. The colors were dazzling, but Isabella wasn’t dazzled by them.

She was used to this. She didn’t fight. She did what she’d already done many times before, and simply relaxed into it. Isabella allowed herself to let go, and let the strange, hypnotic shapes on the screen of her phone wash over her, like waves on a beach steadily pounding the sand flat.

At this point, it wasn’t even a choice. It was instinctive. Conditioned. Isabella couldn’t have fought it even if she’d wanted to.

But fighting it was the last thing she wanted.

Instead, Isabella savored every last facet of the experience. She loved everything about the way Clea’s videos took her under. She loved feeling each one of her muscles relax, even the little ones in her hands and feet she never normally noticed. She loved the way her whole body became heavy and whatever she was sitting in became the most comfortable thing in the world, soft enough that she could just sink all the way into it. She loved the way that whatever had been bothering her receded from her mind until she was thinking about nothing at all.

Isabella never remembered exactly what it felt like, afterward. But that just meant that each time, she was all the more eager for the next. Eager to experience bliss anew.

There was a delicious rhythm to it. As the kaleidoscope before Isabella’s vision started spiraling inwards, shifting in fractals as it did, she tried to make herself notice every little detail. Every pattern. Every shape. Every color. Every beat and rhythm of the strange music being pumped into her earbuds.

She tried, because it was impossible. There was too much to keep track of. As Isabella’s mind slowed and dimmed, it slipped out of her grip. It became overwhelming. It wasn’t long - not that she could judge the passage of time - before Isabella found herself at the precipice. The moment all the sounds and colors became nothing more than an indistinct, indescribable, howling rush. The moment she was about to lose herself.

Isabella took a deep breath, and surrendered.

She slumped back in her seat, and there was a sudden rush as her disoriented mind malfunctioned and told her she was falling. The thrill of it almost jolted her awake. Deeply-buried instincts jolted awake and whispered to Isabella that this was wrong, that she was in danger. But she didn’t listen. Couldn’t listen.

And then Clea’s voice came to her, and it was all OK again.

Isabella, you are confident.

It was so easy to accept that. Isabella had always been confident, although her dismal marriage had done much to undermine that. But hearing it from Clea was the perfect reminder. It brought a smile to Isabella's face, even deep in trance. That was so like Clea. To support her, and remind her of the best parts of herself.

Yes. Isabella was confident. More confident than ever, in fact. She felt infused with it.

You deserve what’s best for you.

Given how confident she felt, Isabella had no trouble accepting that either. It was a natural affirmation. She deserved what was best for her. Who didn’t?

Clea is what’s best for you.

Isabella had no reason to fight that suggestion either. It made sense. Clea knew what was best for her, and Clea was what was best for her. It felt right, too. Isabella was a lesbian, and Clea was her lover. Her domme. Her companion. Being with her always felt so good. Clea was what was best for her.

Clea can give you a family.

That suggestion made Isabella shudder with its power. It meant the world to her. She’d always wanted a family. Kids. Since her husband had refused she’d tried suppressing that desire within herself, but it had been hard. Hearing - even thinking - that Clea could make that dream come true was like a magic spell. It was Pandora’s box. The thought infected her. It never occurred to the hypnotized Isabella to question it. It simply consumed her.

Clea was best for her, and Clea could give her the family she wanted.

You love Clea.

Of course she did. It was all becoming so simple. Isabella loved Clea, the woman who was best for her and who could give her a family - and who she craved above everyone else, body and soul. It was love. She’d long since accepted that.

You don’t need your husband.

That suggestion, finally, caused Isabella to stir a little. She… didn’t need him. It was strange; she’d never thought about it in exactly those terms, but she’d always assumed that, on some level, she did need her husband. That seemed natural, when you were married. He was such an integral part of Isabella’s life. If she left him, didn’t that make her a failure? If nothing else, Isabella knew that was what people said and thought about divorced women.

But as always, she heeded Clea’s voice and Clea’s voice. That was as natural as breathing to her now. Clea was always right. Clea knew what was best for her. And that meant Isabella didn’t need him. She didn’t need her husband.

That thought felt freeing.

You are confident…

As Clea’s voice on the audio track started to repeat itself over and over, all of the hypnotic suggestions became more and more firmly fixed in Isabella’s mind. Soon enough, they were commandments carved into stone. As they mixed together and merged, a picture of a new kind of life started to blossom in Isabella’s mind. A life that was infinitely preferable to the failing marriage she currently suffered with.

Maybe divorce wasn’t giving up. Maybe divorcing him was simply accepting the obvious truth that she was a lesbian who deserved better.

By the time Isabella awoke, she was finally ready to head home, bolstered by the knowledge that, one day soon, it would be the very last time.

***

A few days later, at the weekend, Isabella was on another date with Clea. This time, after making her excuses to her monosyllabic husband, Isabella had headed out and driven straight over to Clea’s apartment. Almost as soon as they crossed the threshold, they were in each other’s arms. The little moments they managed to make for one another during the week were wonderful, but nothing compared to long weekend afternoons, when they could just forget anything else in the world existed.

When they didn’t need to restrain themselves. Not even a little.

“Wait!” Isabella panted, as Clea pushed her against the nearest wall and started making out with her. “J-just one second.”

Clea backed off and tilted her head quizzically. Isabella raised her left hand, looked at a wedding ring for a long moment, and then, with a fading fondness, slipped it off her finger and tossed it unceremoniously into her handbag.

“I guess I had a change of heart,” she said, blushing. “I just… don’t want to think about that thing anymore.”

Clea’s bright, proud smile banished any lingering doubts Isabella might have had. She kissed Isabella, and then said:

“In that case, I actually have something for you.”

Now it was Isabella’s turn to look at Clea expectantly. Clea raced out of the room, and then hurried back with something held behind her back. She flashed Isabella a stern look.

“Kneel,” Clea told her.

Isabella sank to her knees in instant obedience. Her heart fluttered. She loved it when Clea told her what to do.

“Close your eyes.”

Once her eyes were shut, Isabella felt Clea reach out to her, arrange her hair out of the way, and then start to fix something around her neck. Excitement made her pulse race as she felt leather on her skin. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know what it was.

“You can look now,” Clea told her. She was holding a mirror, allowing Isabella to see herself. The sight made the older woman blush deeper than ever before. “It’s a collar.”

“It’s…” Isabella was lost for words. She couldn’t possibly express what the collar meant to her, and she was struck by how much more of a symbol of commitment and love it already was compared to her old ring. “Wow. Thank you. Wow.”

“Don’t mention it,” Clea purred. “It looks beautiful on you. Isabella.”

“Thank you,” Isabella repeated. She’d never been so happy.

Truly, Clea was best for her. Not her husband.

“And,” Clea added, as she hooked her fingers into the collar and pulled Isabella in for another kiss, “let me know whenever you’re ready to talk to a lawyer. I already have the number.”