Hey Val, I wrote this microfic and I wanted to get your opinion on it before I post it anywhere. Hope you like it! Ryan xx

Valerie didn’t groan at the sight of the email, exactly, but the sigh she let out was quite heavy. She didn’t mind taking a look at his work, per se - she read a lot of hypnosis-themed literotica. A lot. Like, if it were printed on paper instead of online, it could fill her spare room.

That was actually kinda the problem. She’d read some real gems, and Ryan’s writing was... pedestrian, by comparison. Oh, sure, he had a decent grasp of the English language, and could write some hot scenes, but it was all pretty basic stuff. Uninspired, even. Unimaginative. Unmemorable. Good if she wanted to turn herself on a little, but not up to the standards of Skaetlett, or Modren, or Alecta’s Shadow.

Oh, well. She had a spare couple of hours, and was thinking of spending it jilling off to some smutty prose anyway. Whatever Ryan had come up with would get her started, at the very least.

Shuffling her chair closer to the desk, she propped up her phone next to her laptop and opened the camera app, making sure the shot encompassed as much of her as possible before she started filming. Then she clicked the PDF attached to Ryan’s email open, and began to read.

You begin to read. Your friend sent you this story, and you’re intrigued to see what he’s come up with. You do enjoy some good hypno-smut, after all.

Oh. She saw what he was doing. Very meta. Rolling her eyes, she continued.

As your eyes follow the text, you find yourself wondering what’s coming, imagining where this story could be going. Surely, it couldn’t be hotter than anything you were picturing...

She smirked. That was for damn sure.

But what if it is? The anticipation is building, sending shivers through you. Your friend’s known you for quite a while. He knows how to press your buttons. He could well have come up with the right story to bring you perfect pleasure. You feel arousal stirring through your body.

Valerie tutted, one hand on her mouse scrolling down the page, the other groping her boobs through her stripy black-and-white top. Yeah, OK, dude. After all the time they’d known each other, she doubted Ryan had any idea what her buttons actually were, let alone how to press them.

Line by line, it grows and grows. Line by line, your body heats up. Line by line, your skin grows more and more sensitive. Your lips tingle, your nipples harden, your pussy slickens...

She giggled in between heavy exhalations, pawing absently at her crotch. He really did think a lot of himself, didn’t he? She was no more horny now than she’d been when she’d started reading, of that she was sure.

You’re panting with lust now. It’s becoming unbearable. You can’t stand it - you have to touch yourself. And so you do, your hands leaping to your most sensitive parts.

A derisive snort escaped Valerie’s mouth, followed swiftly by a moan as she slid her fingers down the front of her jeans. Her other hand pushed up her top to get at her boobs, and she sat up straight and pushed out her chest to show them off to the camera as much as possible.

And you know now that he’s watching you play with yourself. You can feel his eyes on you. And you love to let him watch you tease and please yourself. You need him to see it. You need your Master to know what he’s doing to you, the effect his writing is having on you.

She snorted again. ‘Master’? OK, bro. That’ll be the day. And the idea that he could see her right now - that he had some kind of omniscient vision focused on her - was ludicrous, even if she had been doing anything remotely masturbatory yet. Or maybe the story was supposed to be implying she had her webcam on, or something? That was almost more absurd. She wasn’t the kind of girl who sent lewd videos or photos to anyone, especially not Ryan.

You continue to work yourself up, but it’s going too slowly. You need to take yourself right up to the brink, fast. You can’t wait any longer. And the way to do that comes to you all of a sudden, the solution floating out of your subconscious.

You just need to say the words. The words you forget to remember. The words you remember to forget. They’ve been hidden from you, along with all kinds of other secrets, by your Master. But now, in this rapturous moment, they’re right there on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. And they’ll take you to the edge, so, so fast.

“I obey my Master,” Valerie gasped, roughly squeezing her sensitive tit, thrusting her digits in and out of her cunt, eyes fixed on the plodding literature on her laptop screen. “I’m his slutty little proofreader. I love his writing so much, it makes me so horny. I remember to forget, and I forget to remember. I only know what he allows me to know. I only notice what he allows me to notice. I can’t resist. I must... obey... I am Master’s... biggest fan... and I will do... whatever I - I am told!” Her voice grew higher in pitch, her mantras more stilted, her breath catching in her throat, as she got so close to the sweet release she didn’t know she needed.

That’s a good wordslut. So hot for some well-written hypno-smut. Ready?

“Y-yes, Ma-ahhster!”

And as you reach the edge... freeze.

Her body suddenly locked in place where it was, completely immobilised right at the point of orgasm. Her face was strained with lust, her mouth wide open, a little stream of saliva trickling over her lip and down her chin. One of her exposed breasts was being held in a vice-like grip by her own hand. Both of her legs were raised high off the floor, one resting on the arm of her chair, the other hanging suspended in mid-air. Three fingers were buried knuckle-deep inside her throbbing, drooling pussy.

The only parts of her body still moving were her eyes, which remained transfixed on the text on her laptop screen, continuing to read as she inwardly groaned. A freeze trigger? How clichéd could you get?

Good girl. Frozen in place, frozen in time, held in that moment... until I say... unfreeze, and cum, slut.

“Ahhhhh,” she cried, falling back in her chair, her limp body convulsing like a fish out of water as she soaked her fingers in her juices.

Slowly regaining her composure, she finally sat up straight and found her place in the story again.

And now that you’ve reached the end of the literotica, and been rewarded with such a glorious release, you feel compelled to get in touch with your friend and tell them how his latest work made you feel. Moreover, you want to see him in person to thank him properly, and allow him to continue warping your mind, rewriting it to his satisfaction. You love being his passion project, his greatest work, his masterpiece. You’re already thinking of a day when you’ll be free to meet him.

You can’t wait to show him your praise, your admiration, your satisfaction... and your submission.

Valerie rolled her eyes once again as she licked and sucked her fingers clean. Oh, she was definitely going to email Ryan back, but her feedback wasn’t going to be anywhere near as effusive as he’d suggested. There was no need to unduly hurt his feelings, but she saved her most glowing praise for those who’d actually earned it. She’d thank him and say she enjoyed it, and leave it at that.

Turning off her phone camera’s recording - which had captured every moment of her self-pleasure - she returned to her emails, typing out a reply to his message:

Thank you for the story, Master. It was so compelling, and so arousing. I read, and I obeyed, just as I always do. I will send you a video of how I fucked myself to your words, just as I always do. I will forget what I’ve read, and forget that you control me, just as I always do.

I am free to meet with you on Thursday. I can’t wait for you to rewrite more of my mind. I love being your masterpiece.

Much love,

Your wordslut xxx

Highlighting the text green, she sent the email. Then she went back to her phone and sent the video to him as well, before deleting it from her phone.

Sighing, Valerie opened ReadOnlyMind.com and began searching for some decent literotica. Ryan had at least got her motor running - now a better writer could take her over the finish line. She’d already forgotten what his story was even about, which was frankly typical of his stories - another damning indictment.

She was seriously considering telling him exactly what she thought of his writing the next time she saw him.