Only two weeks passed before Henry made another appointment, and though she would be happy to work with this beautiful man again, Octavia knew she needed to have a serious talk with him. So when he entered and started to take his shoes off, she beckoned him to come sit with her.

"I have a confession to make, Henry." She looked at him as he sat down. "I am uncomfortable being your consultant."

He frowned at her. "If I've done something to make you uncomfortable, I apologise sincerely. Please, tell me." His hands opened on his lap, showing his palms.

She took a deep breath, looking for the right words. "Remember the first time you were here? You were just a man, coming to me with a kinky fantasy, and I played it out with you, showing you a good time." She took a sip from her coffee, avoiding his eyes. "That's what I do with clients. You don't need an excuse to make an appointment with me. You just need to be honest about your wishes."

Embarrassed, he laughed and hung his head. "You took it so seriously… I should have… I really did learn a lot, about Geralt and Yennefer, and how he doomed himself to keep coming back to her."

"No doubt." She stared at her coffee and swirled it in the cup. "But did you learn why Henry keeps coming back to me?"

He blushed. The silence was laden with guilt.

She downed the coffee, even though he hadn't touched his cup yet. "You don't need to tell me, Henry. I've already shown you that you don't need to tell me everything in order for me to give you what you want. That's something I'm proud of. And I offer my clients absolute discretion because appointments with me are likely to be a guilty pleasure. Occasionally, I have a client to whom I am a dirty secret, but with regulars I want to be honest. And I want them to be honest with me."

With a sigh, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said breathlessly.

Shaking her head, she said: "I'm uncomfortable being a consultant because I want to do things to you, Henry. I'm not an actor. When I show you that I want you, that's not an act. When I turn into a cold bitch, that's because I feel like I need to stop myself from crossing a line that I'm not supposed to cross as a consultant. I want to be a hypnoDom again, and I want you to be the client I entertain."

He gave her a look of confusion and relief. "You're not turning me away?"

"Not if we can have a serious talk about your masochistic desires." There was compassion in her voice.

"I don't know what to say…" He took a deep breath. "I'm not even sure what masochism means…"

"Let me make it easier on you." She turned towards him and smiled. "Will you let me entertain you this session? I would lead you somewhere I think you'll enjoy, with the intent of exploring what you like, what you want. No more pretext."

With a nod, he replied: "Yes. Thank you, Octavia." He sighed with relief.

"Don't thank me yet." She winked at him. "I mean, what did you just agree to?"

He swallowed and stared at her.

Grinning mischievously, she said: "Let's start here." And she reached over the table to touch his forehead, to stroke up like she had done before. He cringed, but nothing happened, and he sat there with his eyes wide as she sat back down. 

"Well, isn't that reassuring?" She smiled.

"That worried me more than it should have." He laughed awkwardly.

"We can get started if you get changed." She rose to her feet, and when he did the same and took his shirt off, she took his chair and placed it in the middle of the studio. She stood there, looking at the chair, touching her chin in a thinking gesture.

Barefoot and wearing only his training slacks, Henry stepped up to her. "I'll admit, not knowing what you're planning makes me a little nervous."

"Sit down." She stepped aside, but when he did as she asked, she reached up to let her hands brush the naked skin of his chest and arms. "You're so beautiful, Henry," she murmured.

He blushed as he sat in the chair, folding his hands in his lap.

She stood, looming over him, letting her voice drop into a seductive tone. "Look into my eyes. That's the trope, isn't it? You stare deep into my eyes and something magical happens. Somehow, I drain your thoughts away, your will even, with my hypnotic gaze. Can you feel how your eyes are locked to mine? How you can no longer look away? What is that doing to you?"

His eyes grew wide, staring up at her. His shoulders and his legs sagged, he seemed paralysed. "I feel… excited… overwhelmed…" he uttered softly.

"Overwhelmed by my power? But this is not a fantasy show, I have no magical power over you. Do I?" She smiled, fixating him with her intense stare, speaking slowly. "I'm just giving you what you want. You want to be overpowered. You want to sink deeper and deeper into a helpless, mindless trance. That's why you feel this way now. You want to surrender to me. I'm just giving you what you want."

"I want to surrender…" he whispered, blushing. He sat completely still now, focused on her.

"You want to obey. So take a deep breath, and as you let it out, you can let go. Submit to this feeling of being overwhelmed." 

When he breathed out, it was like a deep sigh. His chest rose and fell beautifully. His hands slipped off his lap and hung limply by his sides. His facial expression softened into something more blank and open. 

A rush of arousal hit Octavia and made her breath hitch. Her eyes were drawn to the erection growing in his slacks, but she quickly turned them back to his face. "You must feel so helpless and weak and aroused now. Your body becoming too heavy to move. Your eyes becoming too heavy to keep open. Your cock becoming too hard to think."

His jaw sagged open and his hips bucked in the chair. She took it as a good sign and quickly continued in the same vein, her voice hot and urgent. "Too hard to think. The more weak and heavy you feel, the more aroused you become, the harder it becomes to think. Your cock is growing harder and harder as you become more helpless and mindless. As you fall deeper under my power, your cock grows harder. Too hard to think. Too hard to resist." 

The bulge in his slacks moved, straining against the fabric. Meanwhile, his head swayed involuntarily, his eyes drooping until they finally fell shut. Immediately, she moved in to touch his chest and to grope his erection. "That's it. Surrender. So aroused and hard now. Too hard to think. So helpless and weak now. Too weak to resist. Submit to my power."

A moan escaped his lips as his hips moved to grind against her hand. His neck craned and his head flopped back. She grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hungrily, leaning one knee on his lap to press down on his cock as she held his head in her hands. But he didn't kiss her back, his face was slack and his neck was too weak to hold his head up as soon as her hands let go of him. She backed away and stared at the way he hung limply on the chair, relishing the image.

"Take a deep breath," she ordered him. "Remember this feeling. Savour it and store it, now. Because it's starting to fade away. With every breath, you can feel that you're growing stronger, waking up from this strange dream, waking up to the reality that you're just sitting here in my studio, and I'm just standing here talking to you."

She watched him closely as he started to stir. His arms twitched and trembled before he managed to move them. When his head finally turned upright, he moved to rub his face, and then he shifted in the chair, leaning forward on his knees. "That was… Fuck…" he muttered under his breath. After a moment, he looked up at her. "Why did you stop?"

"Many reasons." She touched her lips, smiling at him. "But foremost, I wanted to check in. We are exploring what you like. So, did you like this?"

He blushed. His mouth opened and closed silently, at a loss for words.

"I'll take that as a yes." She chuckled. "Secondly, which part did you like the most? Because I want to go back and focus on that. Magnify and explore it. Tell me something that sticks with you. Even if it's just a word."

He leaned forward again, looking at the floor. "Weak." He licked his lips and found his voice. "I've always worked hard to be strong. Weakness is… an interesting feeling to explore."

"Reminds me of the first time you came here…" She thought back to that session, trying to recall details. "Do you want to struggle against it, like we did then?"

After a moment of deliberation, he shook his head without looking at her.

"If you don't struggle, then how do I show you that you are weak?" She asked. "Too weak to do what? Physically weak? Or weak-willed?"

He sat up and folded his hands in front of his mouth, looking for words.

"I know that look," she said with a sly smile. "You want both? I can figure out how to do both."

He gave her a toothy grin. "Thank you." Then he seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Can I ask something?"

"Always." She turned serious. "It's easy to tell me when you need me to know something. Whether it's a boundary or a bathroom break, you can always easily find a way to ask me."

He cleared his throat. "Can we make it less about the cock? I mean, I liked it, don't get me wrong, it was really…" He exhaled. "Really nice. But I would like the cock to be a bodypart that's just there, just another part of me. Not a focus."

"Thank you, Henry." She approached to lay her hand on his shoulder. "I will keep that in mind. What about the kissing? Should I stop kissing you?"

He blushed as he looked up at her. "I rather like the kissing."

"Oh good." She smiled, letting her eyes close for a moment. "When you're ready to continue, please put the chair away and stand here." Stepping aside, she gave him some space.

He got up and put the chair back in its original position. Before he returned to the open space, he looked at the floor and said: "This is going to involve dropping me again, isn't it?"

She grinned at him. "Of course. Don't pretend you don't like that."

With a deep breath, he advanced and stood in the place she had indicated, his knees loose and his hands open. "Right. I'm ready."

"Why do you sound so tense?" She walked up to him and looked up at him as she laid her hands on his bare chest. "I'm just going to talk to you. You're such a big, strong man. Nothing I say can change that. So what are you worried about?"

With a frown, he replied: "I'm worried that everything you say is a trap."

She spoke slowly and deliberately as she started to pace around him, running one hand over his shoulders as she circled around. "Are you worried that somehow the things I say will start to have an effect on you? That I can get under your skin, so to speak, and that my words will make you feel things simply by describing them to you? Is the thrilled anticipation you feel right now an effect of my words?"

He resisted the urge to keep looking at her, and stared ahead instead. Her hand travelling over his skin gave him shivers, and he clenched his hands to fists to help him stand still.

"And yet," There was that playful, seductive tone again. "You can already feel how you're focusing on my words, on what I'm doing to you. I am hypnotising you, like I've done before, and I will again. My words wash over you and you can't help but feel their effects. You can't wait to feel.... Weak." When she passed in front of him, her hand brushed up his throat and over his cheek and lips.

He momentarily closed his eyes, gasping softly. His hands unclenched and his chest rose and fell with his breath.

"You have my permission to feel weak, beautiful man. I will help you. Let my words help you feel. Weak." When she found herself behind him again, she stopped for a moment, and then turned around to circle him in the other direction, her other hand touching him now. "What does that word mean to you? Weak. Is it something you can feel in your body? Are your arms too heavy to move? Feel how they're weighing on you, like limp ballast, pulling you down, making your shoulders droop. Too weak to move your own arms."

He swallowed, letting his shoulders sag, blinking as he paid attention to these feelings in his body.

"Are you starting to feel weak? Do your knees feel weak? Like your body is too heavy to hold upright?" Again, she passed in front of him, caressing his cheek and his lips, and it made him shudder and close his eyes.

"If you're too weak to stand upright, then maybe your head is feeling heavy too. Your neck may feel just as heavy and rubbery as your arms do. Your eyes may be too heavy to keep open. And the funny thing is, it feels so good, doesn't it?" She stopped behind him again, her fingertips languidly drawing spirally shapes on the back of his neck.

His head drooped forward and he started to sway, his eyes closed now.

"You can know that I am here to help you experience this feeling. I'm making you more and more weak. I want you to feel so weak now, and I will keep you safe. You can just be here, in this moment, too weak to stand upright. Your neck feeling weak, your body so limp and heavy, your knees feeling weak." She moved in closer as she spoke to him, ready to guide him to the floor. And as soon as she mentioned his knees, they buckled and he collapsed.

She gently helped him turn and lay down on his back, and then sat down next to him. She took his wrist into her hands and lifted it off the floor. "Feel how limp your arm is. Feel how you're too weak to move, too weak to even open your eyes. Even the muscles in your face are too heavy to form any kind of facial expression. I've just dropped you." And she let his arm fall back down.

He gasped and his lips remained parted, as his eyelids moved without opening.

With her hand under the back of his head, she lifted it up to kiss him. Her lips brushed his as she said: "Too weak to even do the things you enjoy doing. Like kissing me back." After a few kisses, she gently laid his head down again. She rested her hand on his chest, to feel the rise and fall of his breath as she thought about her next move.

"Focus on my voice, Henry." She ordered in a clear tone. "Take a deep breath. It's so easy to become completely aware of your surroundings, of the carpet underneath you, of my hand on your skin. Of the light in the room. I want your head to wake up. Even as your body remains too heavy and too weak to move, your head can wake up. You can think, you can open your eyes, you can speak. You can tell me how you feel."

He blinked heavily and then looked up into her smiling face. "Hello," he said groggily. "I feel… Good." He blinked and sighed.

With a sly grin, she replied: "I can change that." She studied his reactions carefully.

"Change that?" His eyes rolled around in confusion.

"Try to move," she said. "Try to lift your hand off the floor."

He frowned and his hand twitched. "I can't."

"So if I were to do this…" and she scooted away from him, out of view. "You're too weak to even move so you can see me?"

He cringed but otherwise didn't move. "Yes."

"But just a few minutes ago, you were standing up. And you're usually so very strong. You work out and everything." She couldn't help but laugh. "And now you're too weak to even move your head?"

His shoulders trembled and he bit his lip.

She crawled back over to him and leaned her hands on his chest as she stared him down. "Think of the things I could do to you. You're too weak to stop me. Too weak to resist."

His eyes grew wide as she held his gaze. He blushed and his lips moved silently for a second. Then he breathlessly, almost inaudibly, uttered: "Yes, please."

She cupped his jaw in her hand. "Why would you say such a thing? Don't you know what's good for you?"

He let his eyes close, enjoying her touch.

"Have you become so weak now that you are too weak to resist anything I say?" She pushed to turn his head to one side, and then let go and watched him flop back down.

His eyes opened to look at her, and his lips moved wordlessly.

"Perhaps I was wrong…" She said in a dreamy tone, leading him to the next phase. "Perhaps it's not your body that's weak. Perhaps it's your mind. You are just too weak-willed to resist my words. No will of your own. You'll agree with anything I say."

Staring at her, he swallowed. His mouth opened in a look of anticipation.

She picked up his wrist again to lift his arm up, and she started to stroke up and down his forearm and elbow, massaging it into place. "You're just so submissive and obedient right now. There is nothing weak about your body. Take for example this arm. Strong and muscled and upright. And it's just going to stay upright, completely rigid and frozen in place. There." She let go and his arm remained suspended there.

A look of surprise came over him, and his head moved ever so slightly.

"Can you move it?" She asked.

He shivered. "How…?" The look of disbelief on his face was priceless.

"It's because you obey everything I say, my dear." She said in a reassuring tone. "You're too weak to resist, and complying feels so good, doesn't it?" She stroked his arm and guided it back down to the floor. She moved to cup his jaw again and cooed: "I said, doesn't it feel so good? Don't you feel pleasure, actual physical pleasure somewhere in your body, whenever you comply? Isn't that why you're too weak to resist me? Because it feels so good to obey?"

He shuddered and his eyes rolled up for a second.

She suddenly got to her feet and stretched. With a smile, she looked down on him. "Your mind is too weak to resist me anymore. So when I tell you, now, to stand up, you immediately obey, don't you?"

He sat up and rose to his feet, surprised by his own ability to do so, staring at her all the while.

She embraced him and stroked his back as she looked up into his eyes. "So, was your body too weak to stand upright, just a moment ago? Or did that just happen because your mind is too weak to resist my words? Your mind is getting too muddled to figure it out. Too weak to even think straight. And that feels so good, doesn't it?" She cuddled his chest.

Silently, he closed his eyes and smiled, just holding her.

When she was done hugging him, she let go of him and backed away. "Sit down on the chair, Henry." And she went to the corner to get two glasses of water.

He sat down, following her with his eyes, but otherwise silent and still.

As she returned to the table with the water, and sat down, she spoke in that clear tone again. "I'm going to make this very easy on you. I'm going to start to count to five, and when I reach five, you'll be completely awake again. Every number will help you return to reality and leave all these feelings behind. It might even help if you take a deep breath with each count, and then you can exhale all these weird feelings, and every time you breathe in, your mind can become clearer, and you become more and more like yourself again." And she counted, slowly, watching him carefully. "One. Two. Three. Four."

He blinked with every breath he took, his eyes becoming clearer, and his posture becoming more natural. 

"And five." She smiled at him. "Take a moment. Have some water." And she brought her own glass to her lips to drink.

He turned his head to stare at the floor where he had been lying moments ago, as if his memories of that moment were still lying there and he could study them. "That was amazing, Octavia." His voice was low and thoughtful.

"I'm glad you liked it." She smiled modestly. "That was just straight from the kinky hypnotist's handbook."

He shook head. "You made it amazing." And he reached for the water to wet his parched throat.

She inclined her head to give him a keen look. "If you want to book another session, you're going to have to message me first. Sit down and write about your wishes and your limits. Do some research online about what you'd like. That's what most clients do."

Henry nodded. "Thank you, Octavia."