Octavia quietly stood at the counter with her hand on the coffee machine, feeling it buzz as it ground the beans. Her eyes were on Nathaniel as he stood near the door of her studio finishing a phone call. Simply looking at his smart suit and his fashionable shoes told her that he worked as a manager in an office.

"I told you, I'll be offline for the rest of the afternoon." He looked up at the ceiling as he impatiently tapped his foot. His voice was calm and decisive, the voice on the other end was not going to change his mind. He raised an eyebrow and then shook his head at what they were saying. "That meeting could have been an email." 

For a moment he massaged his forehead and then he interrupted them. "No, you should have taken care of that. I don't have time for this now. No, tomorrow morning is packed too." He rolled his eyes as the voice on the other end protested. "I might have time next Wednesday. Ah yes, that's what I thought. Bye." He took a moment to turn the phone off and put it away.

He ran his hand over his shaved head and then gave Octavia an apologetic look. "I'm off the clock now. All my attention is on you." He sat down and gave her a charming smile as she brought the coffee to the table.

"Sounds like you have a busy job, Nathaniel." She placed a cup in front of him and sat down. "Lots of responsibility."

"Please, call me Nate." He smiled radiantly at her before he sipped his coffee. "And let's not talk about my job. I'm off the clock now."

"Alright, Nate." Octavia hesitated for a moment and then decided to be direct. "So tell me more about your fantasy to be a mindless goon."

He suddenly coughed and put the coffee down, lowering his eyes. "What may I call you, Octavia?" He asked quietly.

"If you would like to call me by a title, I would prefer Miss or Madam, but not Mistress." She often needed to clarify this to her clients, so the sentence rolled right off the tongue. Then she smiled patiently at him.

His fingers nervously stroked the coffee cup as his eyes avoided hers. "It makes sense, doesn't it, Miss?" He said, furtively glancing at her. "I look for a release from my daily life, a fantasy where I'm not in control, where I have no responsibility."

"Yes, it's certainly not an uncommon fantasy." She smiled with encouragement. "You mentioned that word in your messages, goon. What does it mean to you?"

"It uh…" He closed his eyes and swallowed. His voice was low and monotonous. "A goon is dumb. So horny he can't think straight. Can't stop anymore, like an addiction, ready to throw it all away just to be allowed to cum." He took a deep breath and stared into his coffee cup.

She leaned towards him on the table, trying to make eye contact. She made her voice sound hot and urgent. "But he can't cum, can he?"

"Not without permission, Miss." He shook his head and closed his eyes again.

"So why does he keep going?" She asked in that same tone as she leaned closer still. "Why does he keep stroking?"

His eyes opened and he froze like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. Breathlessly, he replied: "He can't stop… And maybe after the next edge… Maybe after the next one he'll be allowed…"

Octavia sat back in her seat and nodded with approbation. "Thank you. I understand it better now."

He lowered his eyes and wiped a drop of sweat off his head. Taking a moment to drink his coffee seemed to calm him. As he leaned his elbow on the table, the sleeve of his jacket revealed his flawless white cuff with shiny cufflinks and a hint of his expensive watch.

An idea started to form in her mind and it made her smile wickedly. "Such a shameful word… Goon…" She mused as took in the visage of him sitting there dressed so smartly. "And you're such a civilised gentleman…"

He nodded as he put the cup down. "Usually…" He cleared his throat and asked with a much more steady voice: "Is there anything else we need to discuss before we start, Miss?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You haven't done this before, have you?"

"Not in real life with a person." He shrugged and avoided her eyes again. "At home in private with something to watch on a screen."

"What a beautiful euphemism." She smiled at him across the table and then held his gaze. "So, you're you into edging and denial. When do you know it's time to stop?"

An awkward smile crossed his face. "I uh… I set an alarm usually. I work on a very tight schedule…"

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes bright with amused awe. "You do this on your lunch break?"

"When I'm working from home." He said quickly. "Never at the office."

"This is going to be such a treat…" She rubbed her hands together. "Do I have your consent to touch you and undress you while I hypnotise you into a mindless goon? There will be no pain in this scene."

He blushed and nodded at her, his eyes wide and open. "Yes to all of that, Miss. And please talk more about the shame."

"Oh, I intend to." She rose to her feet and gestured to the middle of the room. "I want you to move the chair over there and sit."

He did what she asked and after he sat down, one of his legs twitched nervously. For a moment, Octavia just looked at him sitting there with his suit jacket hanging open and his hands clasped in his lap. Sweat made his bald head shine in the glare of the overhead lighting but his white shirt was still dry, which meant he was probably wearing something underneath.

She approached him with confident, loud steps and he looked up at her. Grinning, she held his gaze as she reached out to grab his tie and wrapped it carefully around her hand. His eyes grew wider and the collar moved as he swallowed. 

"Look at me, Nate." With this tight grip on his tie, she pulled him up towards her while staring into his eyes. It made his hands stretch out wide, trying to keep his balance. She prolonged this moment of intense eye-contact as long as she could. His breath quickened as he stared up at her, suspended in her grip.

Then, she gave a quick tug on his tie and commanded: "Drop!"

As she let go, he exhaled and his head flopped down with his chin to his chest. He sank back into the seat with his arms hanging limply down the sides. 

"You know what it feels like to be hypnotised, my dear." Octavia said in a dreamy voice as she slowly paced around the chair. "You can just allow that feeling to embrace you and drag you down into a deep trance. You can just give in to it. Feel yourself sinking. It's a feeling you love, isn't it?"

His head bobbed up and down, a slow, lazy nod to acknowledge that she was right. When she touched his forehead to push his head upright, it swayed on his neck. His eyes were closed and his mouth fell open, there was a hint of drool in the corner of his lips.

"You can feel how this deep trance is making you more and more helpless." Her voice was low and sultry now. "Your body is just so heavy and limp. Your face is all numb and slack. And your thoughts, can you feel that? They're just melting and dripping out of your head. With every breath you take, with every word I say, you can just feel your thoughts trickling out of your head."

A sigh escaped his lips and a long strand of drool spilled down his chin. His face looked so different now, expressionless almost. 

Softly murmuring sweet, hypnotic words she stepped in closer, one leg between his so she could grind her knee against the growing bulge in his pants. And while she did that, her hands loosened his tie without undoing it all the way. She left it hanging in a large loop across his chest as she started to undo the top buttons of his shirt.

His legs spread open wider as she ground down on his crotch with her knee. His body twitched under her touch and his eyes drifted open in an unfocused attempt to look at her.

"Deeper, Nate." She shushed him. "Every breath just makes you go deeper as your thoughts keep rolling out of your head and onto the floor. It's fine, you can just let them fall, we'll pick them up later when this is all over. And it feels so good to let them drop." She suddenly pulled his shirt open.

He sighed and his eyes rolled up as his head lolled to the side. More drool spilled out of the corner of his mouth, making a dark stain on his suit jacket.

She pulled his belt loose and opened the buttons of his pants, feeling the bulge move as she almost touched it. Then she took a few steps back to take in the tableau she had created. The strand of drool and the rolled up eyes accentuated the vacant expression on his face, and he looked so limp and deliciously dishevelled. She leaned on the table, watching him with a pleased smile.

"Now I happen to know what you get up to at home when you feel like this, Nate." Her voice was a little louder now, slow and melodic as if she recited poetry. "I wonder what plays on the screen in front of you when you sit at home and get hypnotised. I bet you're remembering that now. This is starting to feel  familiar. Being deeply hypnotised makes you so… horny."

He moaned softly, shifting ever so slightly in the seat. One of his hands twitched and then reached for his pants, pulling his erection out to stroke it. His breath quickened and his eyes fluttered as his hand stroked, but otherwise he was frozen in that dishevelled tableau.

"I know your head feels so empty and entranced right now…" She permitted herself a deep sigh as she watched him sit there like that, savouring every little shudder. "But even in this deep, helpless trance, you know two things. These two things are incontrovertible truths. Even if you no longer know where you are, even if you lose track of how much time has passed, you know these two things."

His head swayed on his neck and his eyes fluttered, he was trying and failing to look in her general direction. While one hand stroked in a steady rhythm, the other still hung limply down beside him, too heavy to move.

"The first thing you know is that you are not in control. You're too far gone. That hand is stroking you and you can't make it stop. You can't move. You can't think. You're too far gone." She shivered with arousal as she inhaled. "But that hand will continue to stroke you, bringing you more pleasure, entrancing you deeper and deeper, taking you all the way to the edge, and then it will stop. That hand has edged you so many times before, it's muscle memory now. As soon as the pleasure reaches that edge, that hand falls limp just like the other one."

Sweat beaded on his bald head and ran down his temples. He whimpered and shifted in the seat. The movements were tiny, he was not in control.

"The second thing you know is that I'm making you do this." She said with a hungry grin. "I've hypnotised you. I'm mind-controlling you. That's why that hand is stroking you. That's why you feel this way. You're helplessly edging for me. You're deeply under my power."

Another whimper and a new trickle of drool. His breath was quick and shallow, making his chest heave under his crumpled suit jacket and shirt.

Octavia touched her lips as she savoured this image of him. "Your mind is getting a little vague on the details, though. Did one of the videos you watched at home implant some kind of command to come see me? Did you come here for some innocuous reason? You're such a civilised gentleman. Usually. And look at you now…"

She approached and when she touched his shoulder, he started to shake and moan. The stroking never wavered, however.

She leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "So exposed and helpless. Every stroke makes you more and more mindlessly aroused. Every stroke takes you further and further away from the smart professional that walked through my door. Every stroke brings you closer and closer to that dumb goon."

A grunt escaped his throat. His hips bucked in the chair, but it was unclear if he was fighting the masturbating hand, or if he desperately wanted it to move faster and harder.

"I've mind-controlled you. You're no longer in control, you're too far gone. Every stroke brings you closer to becoming my dumb goon." She stood before him and grabbed his chin, lifting his head up as she spoke in a hot whisper. "I've mind-controlled you. You're no longer in control, you're too far gone. Every stroke brings you closer to becoming my dumb goon."

He shook and whimpered. His hand suddenly fell limp in his lap and a long, high-pitched whine came out of his mouth, along with another dribble of drool.

She stroked his cheek, looking into his empty, watery eyes as she cooed: "Very good. You're such a good, dumb goon. If you sit very still for long enough, I'll let you do it again."