I arrive to my girlfriend, Maya’s apartment to find her working on dinner already. “Hi, babe,” I give her a smile and a kiss. She’s in a cheery mood and we chat about each of our days while I join in on the food preparation.

“Are you ready for some Titty Time later?” she asks without even looking up from the saucepan.

I make a perplexed squint in her direction and laugh, “What? What is Titty Time?”

“You know! Titty Time!” She looks at me with a wide smile.

I glance down at her chest and then my own. I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. “Maya. I literally have no idea what you’re saying.”

She just chuckles and changes the subject.

Our hypnokink journey sometimes includes moments where I have no idea what she’s referring to, so it isn’t exactly groundbreaking when I go with the flow and choose not to question her further. Sometimes topics make my brain feel cloudy and like there is something just beyond the reach of my comprehension. Trying to pin down those thoughts and ideas can be exhausting and confusing. Experiencing this too many times to count has made me more likely to just accept things she says and move on with a smile.

Later, after we’re done eating and we’re cleaning up the kitchen, she comments, “I’m really looking forward to Titty Time.”

“Maya! Seriously,” I laugh. “What are you talking about? What is Titty Time? Is that a trigger? It doesn’t feel like it’s a trigger. I don’t feel like you’re hypnotizing me or making me suddenly horny or…I don’t know, there’s no powerful compulsion to obey you! Or to submit…or…anything.” I chuckle with exasperation. “I’m sorry, babe. Is this maybe a trigger that isn’t working?”

My girlfriend seems completely unbothered to find out I’m not experiencing any reaction to the phrase. Instead, she muses, “What if Titty Time is a trigger you don’t remember? What if Titty Time grows stronger and stronger every time you hear the phrase or even say it yourself? What if Titty Time is growing so powerful that it’ll smack into you like a sonic boom? And what if Titty Time can knock out everything that doesn’t matter…hitting your mind so strongly you won’t even recognize what is happening? Not before you are wrapped up like a little submissive, oblivious, Titty Time gift all for me. What if I am building up this Titty Time inside your head like a ready-to-be detonated, unbelievably mind-altering, behavior-shifting, incredible, inevitable, hypnotizing bomb?”

Maya does not look like an innocent person right now. But…I feel absolutely nothing hypno-esque in response to all of this jibber jabber, so I watch her monologue with an amused grin. Trying to be diplomatic, I respond, “Well…honey…I would say…that…that sounds…amazing.” I give her a placating smile, “But…babe… I feel nothing after all of that. Truly. And surely, I would feel something considering that build-up you just did. Plus, I don’t even remember ever hearing the words “Titty Time” before. They sound silly and non-sensical. I hate to say it, babe, because you really are an amazing hypnotist, but I don’t think Titty Time means anything. Titty Time doesn’t do anything to me.”

She’s smiling so hard now and her eyes are scrunched up in joy. “You keep saying it! You’ve said ‘Titty Time’ three additional times now!”

Okay, I think she’s just fucking with me as a joke, so I tease her right back. “Titty Time, Titty Time, Titty Time! Now it’s six!”

We’re both laughing when we wrap each other up in our arms. We start kissing and have a lazy make-out in the kitchen for a while. I do think she is messing with me, but I have no reason to complain. I love being her toy and it certainly doesn’t hurt me in any way to be teased about a fake trigger. This kind of lighthearted play, or banter, is a cute contrast from the times we engage in intense, deeply submissive hypnosis and hypnokink. I love the balance because it makes our games feel safe and that allows me to open up my vulnerability to her even more.

When we break apart from our embrace, she smacks my ass while walking out of the kitchen and tells me she plans to watch a few episodes of her favorite reality TV show tonight.

Immediately, I let out a whining noise but try my best to withhold verbal complaints. I really hate that show and I can never relax when it’s on. People say reality television is an opportunity to turn your brain off and enjoy mindless television, but I can’t relate. I know what it feels like to have my brain turned off and I promise it feels one hundred times better than watching over-the-top pettiness and conflict. I mentioned to her once that she’d probably enjoy her show a lot more if I had no idea it was on. In fact, one time I got so anxious she hypnotized me during a commercial break, and I really did sit next to her in a my-brain-went-out-to-lunch trance until the episode ended and she woke me. For reasons completely unrelated, I’m sure, I remember stripping and crawling on top of her immediately. And…and I can’t really remember… Hmm…I remember laying in her arms later. And, I think she suggested this become a permanent condition. Hmm…that, um…uh…

I can't remember what I was thinking about.

Anyway.

Maya has been watching this series for years, and I don’t want to come between her and her guilty pleasure. Even though I genuinely struggle to sit through an episode, I want to be a good girlfriend.

For a confusing moment, I can’t remember the last time she watched this show. That’s really peculiar because it’s not like Maya to deny herself a guilty pleasure. I try to recall my last memory of her watching it but my head feels cloudy and…and I’m struggling to think…and…and then, I go down the path of least resistance. I forget whatever I am trying to think about. As I let go…of…something, I smile because I feel good. My mind is clear so I focus on what’s in front of me. Smiling to myself, I wash my hands in the kitchen sink.

Tentatively, I enter the living room and find Maya on the couch with the remote. I glance at the TV and she has it queued up to the next episode of a docuseries we’ve been watching. “What are you doing?” I ask. “That’s not your show,” I say, pointing at the screen.

“Oh, no. No, it’s not. It’s not Titty Time yet.”

I’m so confused. I’m about to ask her what that means but she gives me a soft smile and pats the couch next to her, inviting me to sit down. I do as she requests and we get comfortable before she starts the docuseries episode.

Maybe twenty minutes later, I turn to her and whisper, “But for real, what is Titty Time?”

Maya laughs and kisses the tip of my nose. “Don’t you worry about Titty Time.” She pecks my confused frown and I sit back and just decide to accept that she’s not going to tell me what it means. It has to be a fake trigger she’s teasing me with to keep me off balance.

Much later, after we’ve gotten ready for bed, Maya turns on the TV she has hanging on the wall in her bedroom. I’m dreading that this means she’s going to put on that terrible reality show. I climb up on the bed until I’m kneeling with her legs between my knees. Maybe if I ask nicely, she’ll wear headphones so I don’t have to hear the overwrought tension when I’m trying to relax and fall asleep.

Before I suggest my compromise to her, Maya begins fondling her own breasts in a lazy, soft sort of way. Of course, I watch with rapt attention. She’s reclined on her back and I bite my lower lip in anticipation for what may come next. This is making me hopeful that maybe we can make out or have sex instead of watching her stupid show.

“I’m ready for Titty Time, good girl.” She’s using her hypnotizing voice, which is a triggering sound in its own right, but I’m too interested in the tantalizing show of her groping her own breasts to question it.

Belatedly, I realize she said that meaningless phrase again. I keep watching her hands trailing over her beautiful, large breasts and settle in a seated position, still straddling her legs. My eyes never waver but I caress her hips and sound remorseful when I reply, “I’m really sorry I don’t feel anything when you say that. I don’t remember that phrase.”

Her hands keep playing and I keep staring. I grow a little half-smile because I could watch this all night. After a very long silence she says, “You never remember Titty Time.”

I’m so distracted I don’t notice that sounds like a command. I blink a few times because I heard her voice. I don’t want to be rude. I try thinking about what she said…or asked? Finally, without really caring whether it makes sense, I say, “I don’t…I don’t ever remember.”

Maya grins. It’s fun to have a hypnotically vulnerable girlfriend who is prone to intensely focusing on things until her mind softens. Technically, Maya’s intention was only to get me to watch her breasts. What’s about to happen might actually be too easy. She responds, “You need not worry or remember. You only know what you should know and forget what you need to forget. You are my perfectly programmed good girl and deeply obedient sex toy.”

Just those words spoken in her hypno-dominant voice affect me. My shoulders slump a little and my expression looks like I’m battling to not lose my grip on awareness.

Maya slides her fingers under the wide neck of her loose t-shirt and smoothly pulls it around her plump tits, freeing them from any visual obstruction as she says, “My good girl obeys Titty Time.”

My eyes widen comically and I look shocked. The glorious reveal of her naked breasts while hearing “Titty Time” triggers a reaction inside me that feels like getting impacted by a sonic boom. Everything disappears but the alluring magnificence of the softest pillows I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I am consumed by the strongest compulsion to lay on her pillows and sleep. I need to sleep on her pillows…must get…closer…falling…sleeping…pillows…

I’m unaware of anything as the pleasurably relaxing sensations of what I’ve been conditioned to do works like a tranquilizer. My dominant admires the view as my eyelids flutter and I appear to fall asleep as I carefully lower my body down and lay my head onto the incomparably luscious and enticing pillows, her glorious tits. It is a scripted reaction that feels perfectly natural and unavoidable to me.

The feel of plump flesh against my cheek elicits the softest, most deflating sigh she’s ever heard. My eyes are already closed and my entire body sags until completely limp. There is just nothing going on inside this well-trained submissive anymore. The heavy blanket of Titty Time sleepiness tucked me in for the night. There’s not a thought in my head because my perfectly programmed submission to the sleepiest, pillowy tits that ever existed has eliminated any impediment that could prevent me from sleeping soundly. There is no presence of mind about the TV show Maya is going to watch. I am lost to Titty Time.

My dominant cuddles my still body and feels both charmed and pleased each time she gets to watch this rapid, but peaceful, descent. She’s seen it play out just like this so many times before. Her good girl is in a deep trance, nestled by voluptuous breasts, and very soon, the trance will give way to genuine sleep. I have been conditioned to interpret this course of events as going to bed for the night. It’s no different than how brushing one’s teeth, turning off the lights, and crawling under the covers sends messages to a person’s brain that it is time to shut down for the night.

My dominant is free to watch her guilty pleasure without the distraction of my restless shifting or disgruntled frowns. I’m cradled within the inescapable rest of Titty Time and the TV isn’t going to rouse me with its formless white noise. My dominant gets what she wants, and I get, well, I get to sleep restfully on my girlfriend’s boobs. Not a bad compromise.

When Maya planned this trigger, she was careful to prevent the sight of her naked breasts from doing this to me all the time. I need to hear the phrase, “Titty Time,” while looking at her naked tits. We’re far enough down the rabbit hole of hypnotic programming for a multi-step trigger to work smoothly. Making me forget about Titty Time, or that this is how she always enjoys her guilty pleasure now, is just a fun aspect she added for her own entertainment. Making me oblivious means she can have fun teasing me.

The pattern of my breathing shifts and gives away that I am genuinely asleep. My dominant tenderly kisses the top of my head and sets the snooze timer on her television. She wants to binge her show and if she falls asleep by accident, there’s no chance I am going to wake up in the middle of the night and see her show still playing.

Instead, I think my girlfriend decided not to watch her show at all. In addition, when I wake in the morning and roll over, I will be surprised to see her breasts hanging free through the stretched-out neck of her top. It will seem innocent when I lean in to peck them. It will start gentle as I kiss and nuzzle, but by the time I’m sucking those nipples, I’m pinching my own. I don’t have an ounce of resistance left; it’s like a ball rolling down a hill. My girlfriend loves being woken up this way, so I feel comfortable giving in to my desire. Caressing and fondling her elevates my own desperate arousal. I’m so hopeful my girlfriend will want morning sex as much as I do.

I am stripping naked with urgency, needing our bodies to be as close as possible. She feels incredible. My Maya…my girlfriend…I can’t think about anything else…I’m so fucking horny…my dominant is so sexy and amazing…

She’s grinning and stretching before her eyes even open. My mouth desperately nips and licks as my hands grope. My dominant fully wakes up as I drag my sensitive, hardened nipples over her tight nips. I moan and drop wet, sucking kisses along her jawline while my pussy drips with desire. I can’t help myself when I mount her thigh and start rubbing against her. My eyes roll back as she grabs my ass cheeks to drag me harder against her flexed leg. She groans about how wet I am already and mumbles incantations about what a good girl I am to succumb to pleasure and lust, what a helplessly obedient sex toy I am to fuck her awake. Everything feels so right and good. I don’t feel like I’m in control at all; I can’t think about anything but our pleasure. She helps me strip her, and I believe nothing will ever be better than panting and writhing with my dominant. As we grind against one another, she keeps calling me “good girl” and “sex toy” and I feel the drunken, dazed smile on my face because that’s what I am. I am her good girl and sex toy. I am hers.

Her skin feels amazing against my body. Everywhere we touch. Every sound she makes. I beg and plead, “Please let me serve and please you. Please let me worship you. I need to worship you.” I’m delirious with passion for her.

She sounds just as desperate when she replies, “You are, good girl, oh fuck. My submissive…under my control. Mmmm…you’re worshipping me. You’re serving me so good…ohhhh-obedient sex toy…” Her hand slides into my hair and grips firmly, pulling my head back so she can kiss me deeply. Her words are true. I can’t get enough.

Insatiable desire drives everything I do. I’m too turned on to register how much of our language is phrasing we use when playing with hypnosis. My current headspace is one of deep submission and obedience to my hypno dominant but I’m going to remember this as just morning sex. I’m too far gone to retain anything more than what I am programmed to think.

I just want to serve and please her, to worship her body. I just want…I just want to hear her voice telling me to cum for her as her hands and mouth consume me, claiming me as her own. I am her possession; I am her obedient toy. To do with as she pleases. I will do anything for her. I will obey. I want to obey. I am hers. She controls me.

Completely lost in the moment, our moans are loud and needy.

She orgasms violently while firmly clutching me to her. With a gasping breath and pumping fingers, she finally gives her toy permission. Hearing, “Cum for me!” causes an absolute eruption. I cum so hard and intensely I black out, spasming in mindless ecstasy. My hand is twitching against her clit and Maya has a reciprocal, second orgasm from the incredible sense of power she holds, being able to unravel me like this.

In the eventual stillness of our slowing hearts and calming breaths, my post-orgasmic buzz tingles while I drool in a blank haze. I come back to myself gradually, and the ravenous desire I felt previously is simply gone. It just disappeared. I am back to being a normal, self-possessed woman who simply started her day with incredible morning sex. I don’t remember anything about how I fell asleep the night before. I don’t remember Titty Time exists. Or that my dominant has a tool for enjoying her TV viewing guilty pleasure and her guilty pleasure of controlling a sex-crazed toy. I only know what I should know and forget what I need to forget.

After taking stock of my body; everything works…I realize we both really need to shower. I turn my girlfriend’s blissed-out, smiling face toward me and we giggle. This feels like the perfect start to the day.

While I may be oblivious to the big picture, I’m in a great mood. And Maya seems super cheerful too. I don’t know it but she’s thinking about how smart she is to make passionate morning sex the conclusion of Titty Time. It is the necessary step for returning me to myself. Every single time. It's a pretty great system for a powerful dominant with guilty pleasures and a devoted submissive who deserves to be played with.

After I get up to head to the bathroom, my girlfriend says, “This was incredible, sweetie. I’m tempted to have more Titty Time tonight.”

I stop at the door and turn around to look at her. She’s pulled the covers up over her body except for her cute, little disheveled head poking out at the top. I squint at her and laugh, “What is Titty Time?”