"So when did you know it was real?" the interviewer asked me.

I blinked. "What, the... the relationship, you mean?"

"You and... Tia, her name is?"

"Yeah, yeah, Tia, um... it's..." I tried to think back to anything that wouldn't out me—out us, really—and give away our secrets. My hand unconsciously went to the silver ouroboros charm around my neck. I couldn't just say, 'Well, Tia and I spent months hypnotizing each other using this little necklace here, to the point that neither of us really remembers much of the way things were before we met,' no matter how much that was the truth.

"There was... a moment, yeah," I continued. "When... when we discussed... moving in, you know?" I flushed. We were in bed. The charm had been in my hand, but I hadn't put it on. We were lying there, naked, tired, I was a bit loopy from... whatever Tia had been doing in my head before that. "And she said, 'Pel, if you're going to move in with me, you have to quit your dumb job that's making you miserable. I make more than enough for the two of us, and you need time to paint.'" I was paraphrasing some, but that was the gist of it. It was less 'If you're going to move in,' and more, 'Quit your fucking job, you spend all your spare time naked in my apartment anyway, let's just move into a bigger place together and get you a studio for painting.'

"It had been pretty real before that, of course," I said, "but that was the moment I knew it was a forever thing, if that makes sense." That had been the moment that solidified the matter in my head. "Of course, there was that first Christmas together, too."

"After you moved in?"

I shook my head. "No, after we met—we met online, on a dating site." On a kinky hypnofetish site, I didn't say. "We each got the other a bunch of gifts." Tia had been hopelessly extravagant, really, since it had looked like we might still be together awhile. I'm not sure that she knew how to deal with the idea that I wasn't going anywhere. I had made her a few things, and bought a couple others, but at the time most of my money was going to my rent and upkeep on my car that was rapidly falling apart. "And each of us, without really meaning to, had got a gift for the other that said the words 'I love you' on it."

I was flushing a bit. Her gift to me had been a sketchbook. She'd used the first page to draw a rainbow—Tia is definitely not an artist, but she worked hard on that rainbow—with a heart in oranges and pinks, and the words, those words, written across the heart in black. I kept that sketchbook in a drawer in the back of the studio. I've never used it, but I would look at that front page for inspiration once in a while.

My gift to her, meanwhile, was an erotic selfie on which I'd photoshopped the words across my stomach in an ornate script. Across my stomach, under my bare breasts, and just over my hand, which was slipped delicately but clearly into my underwear. The selfie wasn't entirely my idea, Tia had used hypnotic suggestion to make me take the picture, but the framing and the caption were all me. It was much less tasteful than her gift, but I know she also pulled it out once in a while for a different sort of inspiration.

"That's really sweet."

"Thank you." I could feel myself getting blushier.

"Any plans to go further?"

I tilted my head, confused. "What, like, marriage? Kids?"

"That's the idea."

I bit my lip, thinking. "I mean, we've been living together a while, we don't really need an expensive ceremony to make things official, right?" There was that time, though, where I was kneeling and staring at the silver charm between her breasts, hopelessly enthralled, and she had taken my hands in hers. 'I, Tia,' she'd said, and I replied, 'I, Penelope,' and then together, her leading and me repeating, we'd walked through something like wedding vows. Sickness and health and richer and poorer and all that. It wasn't like it was a surprise to me, I'd written them, we'd discussed it before. And the sex after was amazing.

"And as for kids, we've both, uh, I mean it's not like an accident can really happen, you know?" I giggled a bit nervously. We'd discussed having kids, of course, and with two functional uteri between us there was nothing in our way, other than Tia's career and my art and our relationship that neither of us wanted to give up or change, at least right at that moment. "It would have to be a planned, deliberate thing, and it's just not really in the cards at the moment."

I pictured myself, literally barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. The thought made me giggle a bit. Mothering would take up a lot of time that I could otherwise spend doing art, or taking walks, watching TV, going camping, living my own life. Plus I certainly didn't want to stop fucking with Tia's head, or her to stop messing with mine, and we weren't really sure how to continue our hypnotic involvement with a child in the picture.

"Maybe in the future then?"

I shrugged. "We've talked about it." I left it there. Maybe if my paintings really took off sometime, we'd have the extra resources to think about it more. Or maybe I'd be more bogged down in work.

The interviewer changed direction, then. "A lot of your art has some curious themes..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, looking at commenters on your social media, and what some critics have said, it seems that a lot of people see consistent themes of submission in them. It goes without saying that knowing that you're a lesbian artist people are going to look at your work and see your sexuality coming through—there's certainly no shortage of beautiful female shapes in them—but there's also an undercurrent that people claim to notice. Are they imagining things?"

I paused for thought. Of course there were submissive themes in my work. Dominant ones, too. "I mean... We're all, I think we're all looking for something bigger than ourselves, right?" I wasn't about to admit that I had a tendency to be thinking sexy thoughts while spending time in the studio. "And I wouldn't really call myself a 'lesbian artist.' I'm a painter in a same-sex relationship. I'm... well, I mean, first of all, I'm not a lesbian." Tia was, though, while I was very much pansexual, even if I hadn't so much as kissed anyone but Tia in the last five years. "Even if I were, it's not like I'm only making lesbian art, whatever that is, anymore than I'm making submissive art. I'm just making works that appeal to me."

That appeal to me sexually. As well as aesthetically, of course, but I had to admit that more than a few of my pieces gave me more than a bit of a thrill. Especially those that Tia had inspired, one way or another.

"And to your audience."

I chuckled. "Well, yes, of course. I'm lucky enough that I don't need an audience to feed me and keep a roof over my head, but I still want to keep them happy."

The interviewer smiled. "I think I've got enough. Do you want to listen to the interview?" She tapped her phone screen a couple times, and the voice recording started playing back.

"No, I'm sure it's—" I began, and then I heard my own voice, sounding a little flat and airy. A tone I knew well.

Was I hypnotized? Am I hypnotized? Did the interviewer...?

And then there was what I was saying.

"Well, Tia and I spent months hypnotizing each other using this little necklace here, to the point that neither of us really remembers much of the way things were before we met."

"Hold it, when did I say—"

"Shh."

"We were lying in be together, naked. We had just had wild, passionate sex. Tia looked over at me and said, 'I want you to quit your fucking job. You spend all your spare time naked in my apartment anyway, we'll move into a bigger place together, and you can paint while I'm at work.'"

"I didn't—"

"Please." The interviewer smiled at me.

"We met on a site for kinky hypnotism fetishists, and the two of us just clicked, found out we lived in the same city, and started a sexual relationship the next week. We quickly realized we were meant for each other, and then that Christmas, she bought me a sketchbook, and on the first page drew a great big rainbow and a pink-and-orange heart with the words 'I love you' scrawled across it. I still have that sketchbook, I've never used it, I keep it hidden in a drawer in my studio and I look at it whenever I need inspiration."

"I had no idea you kept that." The interviewer sounded embarrassed. I wasn't sure why she would; I was the one unintentionally spilling my darkest secrets for a magazine article.

"While I don't think we'll ever get officially married, there was that time when I got on my knees and stared at the pendant, this pendant, hanging between her bare breasts, and the two of us read wedding vows to each other, there, naked in our living room. I was deep in trance, but she made sure that I remembered." The recording paused a moment. "After that, she fucked me so hard I don't think I walked right for a month."

"Holy shit," I whispered. The interviewer just laughed. I looked at her, but she held up a finger for silence.

"Maybe it's selfish of me, but I'm worried about how kids would get in the way of the constant mindfucking Tia and I are giving each other. I love that so much. Maybe when things are more stable, when I have steady income, or when I'm a little older and not so driven, but for right now, I just want to paint and make love with Tia. Though thinking about being literally barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen is kind of funny."

"This is... you can't print..."

The interviewer just shook her head. "Don't worry. You're safe."

Something about that statement made it feel very true.

"Of course I put submissive, and dominant, themes into my art. Dominance and submission plays such a major part of my life. I wouldn't admit to having a tendency to be thinking sexy thoughts while up in the studio, but I very much am. And while my partner is a lesbian, I'm not. Even if I've never so much as kissed another person in five years, you can see the influence of my attraction to all kinds of bodies in my paintings. Although my favourite works, the sexiest ones, are the ones that Tia inspired."

"What is this?" I asked as the interviewer shut off the recording.

In reply, she just asked, "Where are you?"

I looked around. "I'm ... in my home? In... my bedroom?"

Tia laughed. "Yep! Thank you for your candor, Pel, I'm sure our readers will be absolutely thrilled to read your words."

I blushed hard. "Tia!" I shouted, part embarrassed, part upset, part laughing along with her, and... mostly just turned on.

"I really wanna know what you thought you were saying." Tia made a couple gestures on her phone and I knew she was deleting the recording. "Still, that was lots of fun."

"Yeah, I bet."

She flipped the phone onto the bed. "Wanna find out?"

I was already unbuttoning my blouse. I'd gone all-in on the cosplay, apparently, dressing my finest for this magazine interview. "You know you're gonna pay for that."

"Know it?" She laughed. "I'm counting on it. Buuuut..." She stepped in close, kissed me full on the lips, then whispered something in my ear.

When I woke up, my blouse, sweater, and bra were all gone, as was Tia. I could still feel the warm touch of her hands on my breasts, taste her kisses, smell her shampoo. And I could still hear her say, "You'll have to catch me, first."

I smirked to myself as I undid my slacks. The house wasn't that big, and there were only so many places to hide.