Before we go any further, I should address the burning question I’m sure most of you are thinking: Why was there no sex in chapter 1?! Well, calm down, you horny bastards. I know what kind of story I’m writing here, and who’s going to be reading it. And trust me, we’ll get there soon. It’ll be worth the wait, I promise. (It was for me!)

So, there I was in a deep trance, less than half an hour into my very first hypnosis session. My eyes were shut, my mind filled with a swirling, mesmerising spiral, and my head was simultaneously in the clouds and in my boyfriend’s lap. Richard was gently stroking my hair, sending ripples of pleasure through my whole body - down my neck and my spine, across my ribs, around my breasts, along my arms and legs, into my pussy.

I’d expected hypnosis to feel good. I hadn’t anticipated it getting this good, this fast.

I belatedly became aware that Richard was talking to me, and had been for some time. Of course, I’d only realised now because he’d let me - everything he’d said so far had bypassed my main brain and gone directly to my subconscious. I’ve since joked about it in terms of English football (ironic that I’m a fan and my British boyfriend most definitely isn’t) - the back of my brain is like a goal, and my main brain is the goalkeeper. At these moments, the goalie is usually really shit.

Anyway, Richard was talking, and I was now aware of what he was saying.

“So Alyssa,” he said softly, his low voice arousing me more than ever now that I associated it with hypnosis. “Are you consciously aware of the instructions and triggers I’ve given you?”

“No,” I mumbled. A part of me wondered if I’d been responding to the other stuff he’d been saying, without knowing about it.

“Does your subconscious mind remember them clearly?”

“Yes,” I replied. I still had no idea what the triggers were, but somehow I knew my answer was truthful.

“Will you act on them without even needing to think about it?”

“Yes,” I repeated, again feeling the honesty.

“Very good girl.”

Woof. Big surge of pleasure right through me then, on top of what I was already feeling from the hair-stroking and the general hypno of it all.

“I’m going to count to three, and you’ll awaken full of energy, acting on the triggers I’ve given you. One... Deep breath in... Two... Big breath out... Three.”

He snapped his fingers, and my eyes fluttered open. I looked up at Richard through the strands of hair draped over my face.

“Hiya,” I said slowly.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling a little naughtily.

I responded with a matching cheeky grin. “Am I in your lap for any specific reason? Maybe something from my trance that I don’t remember...?” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

He burst out laughing. “No, no! I just thought you’d be comfortable there. Besides, you know I don’t like blowjobs.”

“I know!” I sat up slowly, adjusting my askew shirt and brushing the hair out of my eyes. “I’m just messing with ya. Just like you’re messing with me.”

He sat back, resting an arm casually across the back of the couch. “You’re so silly, AJ,” he said teasingly.

“Well, that’s part of my charm, isn’t it?” I winked at him as I shuffled about in my seat, making myself comfortable.

“Oh, absolutely. So, you’re enjoying this so far?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Heck yeah, it’s so cool. I feel super energised right now, but I remember what I felt like a minute ago when I was in trance - I was fucking blissed out of my mind. It felt kind of like the last time I took an edible, only I didn’t feel horny that time.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you do now?”

I just smiled and gave him another suggestive eyebrow wiggle, getting another chuckle in response. “I am wondering when you’re going to be doing any funny hypnotic suggestions. Wasn’t the point of this to mess with me?”

“Well, maybe if you could stop being silly for one second, I could do something,” he chuckled.

“I do remember you saying something while I was in trance, about how you’d given me triggers,” I admitted, giving my arms a stretch above my head. Noticing my hair had become a mess again, I smoothed it down and brushed it out of my face once more. “So, when are you gonna use ’em, huh? Or are you too scared?”

“Scared?” he snorted dismissively.

“Well, this kind of power can be a lot to handle. Not everyone is cut out for it!”

God, I love teasing him. He often gets so flustered and doesn’t know how to respond, which is so adorable. Then again other times he fights back with his own banter, which is usually fucking hilarious. Given that he was emboldened by the hypnosis, this was one of the fighting back times.

“OK, first of all, you’re a brat and I don’t know why I put up with it,” he grinned, wagging a finger at me like an annoyed teacher. “And second, I’ve already used one of your triggers.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know, the one that puts me back in trance.”

He smiled slyly. “Not that one, AJ. D’you know what you’ve been doing, the last couple of minutes?”

I leaned back in my seat apprehensively, narrowing my eyes at him. “Sitting here talking to you,” I said, layering my tone with joking suspicion.

“Apart from that?”

“Nothing,” I said slowly. When his smile only grew broader, I threw up my hands in protest. “Nothing! I haven’t been doing anything.”

“That you know of...”

“Oh, fuck off,” I sort-of-snapped-but-not-really, struggling to suppress my grin. I looked away from him - his smug face was making me simultaneously annoyed, amused, and a little aroused. (Actually it wasn’t his face that was arousing me, more the implication that he was triggering me to do something without my knowledge.) “You’re messing with me - you just want me to think I’m doing something when I’m actually not. It’s all mind games.”

“It is all mind games,” he admitted, “of a sort. But I’m not lying - you haven’t just been sitting here. Tell me, what are you wearing right now?”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean, you’ve got eyes, right? A baggy grey T-shirt and sweatpants. I wanted to wear something comfortable for this. No bra, for the same reason.”

“So that’s what you’re wearing? Grey shirt and sweatpants?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, widening my eyes at him, astounded by his stupid questions.

“No, you’re not,” he said in a sing-song voice, and pointed at me - specifically, at my body.

I frowned, bewildered, and looked down.

Aside from my black lacy panties, I was wearing nothing. My boobs (perky B-cups that I’m very proud of, by the way) were on full display, and my nipples were as hard as they’d ever been.

“Huh. OK.” I looked up at my boyfriend. “When the fuck did this happen?!”

“While we were talking,” he answered gleefully. “Every time I used a trigger word, you took off an item of clothing and chucked it” - he pointed to the armchair on my left, at the other end of the coffee table from the chair where he’d previously sat - “over there. And since you weren’t wearing a bra, I only had to use the trigger twice to get you to this point.”

I looked over, and sure enough, my T-shirt was draped over the arm of the chair, while my sweatpants were visible underneath.

I stared at them for a long moment, my mouth open in astonishment. I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. Had I really stripped naked (or near enough) while carrying on a normal conversation with Richard? Was it possible that at the very moment when I was teasing him for being scared of using his newfound power of me, I could’ve been pulling my shirt over my head? How could I not have registered the grey material passing directly in front of my eyes?

“What... How...” I stammered.

“Aw, look how confused you are!” he said, his blatant condescension making me blush rather than annoying me. We already had that kind of dynamic, where we could occasionally be patronising to each other and get away with nothing worse than an eyeroll or a playful slap on the arm. The embarrassment I felt at that moment felt stronger though, perhaps due to the hypnosis - I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. Whether that was intentional on his part or just a natural reaction from me in this state of mind, I’m still not sure.

“I just don’t understand how that could happen,” I managed to splutter.

“The mind is a powerful thing,” he said.

“What are you, a fortune cookie?” I jibed, managing to regain some of my usual snark. I was still too shy and embarrassed to look directly at him though.

He chortled. “Let me give you another example. In a moment I’m going to say the trigger word a third time, and this time when you take off your one remaining item of clothing, you’ll be aware of what you’re doing. But you won’t be able to stop it. It’ll just happen, automatically.”

At last I looked at him, my mouth crumpled into what must have looked more like a squiggle than anything else, out of a mix of amusement, embarrassment, and apprehension. “For real?” I mumbled.

He took in my expression and laughed fondly. “Oh, AJ. You’re so silly.”

The emphasis on that last word left me in little doubt what the trigger word was, but just as he’d predicted, I did nothing to stop myself from responding to it. It didn’t feel like I could do anything. I watched, with the detached helplessness of an onlooker, as my hands reached downwards, hooking each thumb around the lacy edge of my panties. Wave after wave of pleasure spread through me, causing me to breathe heavily, as I realised what was inevitably going to happen. My clit tingled gloriously, clearly eager for its impending exposure to the open air.

My legs stretched out in front of me, raising higher, and my hands began to slowly drag my panties down - or rather, up. As they approached my knees, my hands halted their progress, and my legs bent and slipped themselves out the rest of the way. As my feet exited the leg holes, my thumbs flexed, letting the panties drop onto the carpeted floor.

All the while I watched my body operating of its own accord (or, more accurately, of my boyfriend’s accord), with that same detachment, feeling only mild bafflement and curiosity. Once the task was done, I lowered my legs and gazed down at my now completely naked body, admiring my bare pussy.

“Well,” I said slowly, the detached feeling starting to fade, “that’s not something that happens every day.”

And I burst out laughing, completely incredulous at the bizarre semi-oblivious striptease I’d just performed. “That was fucking wild! I can’t believe you just got me to do that!”

“That makes two of us!” I looked over at him, taking in his wide eyes, his dazed grin, his heavy breathing. He was, if anything, even more surprised and elated by the successful hypnosis than I was.

“I’m guessing this has been everything you wanted it to be, then?”

“Well, we’re not finished by any means,” he replied, an excited fire blazing in his eyes. “But yes. Yes, AJ, this is fucking amazing. And hot. And silly.”

I could feel my body trying to respond to the trigger word again, before it seemed to realise I had no clothes left to take off. “Uh, glitch in the matrix, Mr. Hypnotist!” I giggled.

“Right, sorry! I should’ve said, obviously the stripping trigger won’t have any effect on you now that you’ve finished stripping. Not until you’ve got some clothes back on, anyway,” he added, with a wink. “By the way, when I gave you the triggers while you were in trance, I put it like you’d be playing a prank on yourself. Like, your subconscious and I would be messing with your conscious mind, sharing an inside joke that you didn’t know about. You seemed to find that... appealing!”

I nodded sagely, like that made perfect sense. Because frankly, it did. I loved being cheeky and bratty to people (especially Richard), so it was smart of him to play into that. Like the bondage kink link, he was making the hypnosis work with who I was as a person, rather than against.

“So, want to try another trigger?” he asked, smiling that naughty smile of his. “I think you might like this one!”

I gave him a double thumbs-up, because I’m super cool. “Bring it on!”

“Oh hey, I was also going to show you a photo of you when you were in trance earlier,” he said abruptly, getting to his feet and going to get his phone, which was on the armrest of the chair where he’d been sitting before. “Come over and see.”

I stuck my tongue out. “You’re already up, just bring the phone here and show me.”

“So lazy,” he tutted.

“You’re five feet away, for fuck’s sake!” I laughed incredulously.

He gave me this mock stern look, like he was trying to be authoritative in a jokey way. “Fine. If you want to stay there, stay there. Your bum is bound to the sofa.”

I did a double-take. “My what is what?!”

“Try standing up now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine!” And I began to stand up.

Only, I couldn’t. I couldn’t lift my butt from the couch cushion. It felt glued in place. I tried pushing down on the cushion to separate it from me, but that did me no good - as far as the cushion was pushed down, my butt was pulled down too. I stared up at Richard with a mix of concern and amusement, and said simply, “The fuck?!”

He fell about laughing, which was becoming a common occurrence for both of us. (You’re probably bored of the number of times I’ve written ‘I laughed’ or ‘He laughed’ so far. Too bad, that’s what happened! Hypnosis is funny as fuck, after all.)

“Come on, lazybones!” he encouraged mockingly. “Get up on your feet!”

“Fuck you,” I replied simply. (I do say that to him a lot, but never in a truly mean way.)

I continued trying in vain to dislodge myself from the couch, getting more and more frustrated, until he said, “Release.” At that point the sensation of being glued down vanished so fast that I almost fell off the couch altogether. He held out a hand to me, and I accepted it, allowing him to help me stand up.

“What was that like?” he asked, still holding my right hand.

“Kind of alarming!” I replied, but with a smile to show him I wasn’t genuinely scared. “Now, are you going to show me that photo?”

“In a second,” he said, and then, before I could stop him, he lifted my hand up and placed it on the side of my head, just above my ear. “Hand bound.”

I stared at him, and then tried to move my hand from its position. No luck. It felt like my hand and head were a single object, fused together. “Oh no,” I giggled.

“Can you get that hand free?” he said tauntingly, knowing full well what my answer would be.

I glared at him, struggling to conceal my amusement. “I’m gonna slap you!”

“Well, I don’t think you will, but just in case - feet bound.” And he moved back a few feet, well out of reach of my other hand.

I tried to follow, but of course, I couldn’t. I was standing on carpet, but my feet felt as if they had been encased in concrete. I couldn’t even wiggle my toes. I wobbled dangerously for a moment, holding out my left arm to steady myself. Richard started forwards with his own arms outstretched, appearing worried that I might fall, but he stopped when he saw I had regained my balance.

“How you doing, AJ?” he chuckled.

“Well,” I said matter-of-factly, “I can’t move my feet or my hand, and I’m completely naked. So, yeah, I’m perfect.”

There were layers of sarcasm over my words, but actually, I did feel pretty great. The helplessness of my situation was really starting to fire up my bondage kink (again, well played, Richard), and my clit was tingling up a storm.

“Try using your left hand to move your right hand,” he suggested, trying very hard not to smile.

I was very suspicious of anything he said or did at this point, and I’m sure the look I gave him conveyed that. But I couldn’t think of a better idea, so I went ahead and clasped my right wrist with my left hand, giving it an experimental tug. As I’d anticipated, this did absolutely no good. And, of course, it was all part of my devious boyfriend’s cunning plan.

“Hand bound,” he said in a sing-song voice. The fingers of my left hand refused to release my right wrist, holding it in a vice-like grip.

I sighed. “Dude, you suck.”

This got a big laugh from him. “AJ, you are, without a doubt, the biggest brat I have ever known.”

“I actually think I’m giving you pretty fair responses, considering what you’re doing to me!” I protested, trying my hardest to move either of my hands or feet. “And with my arm reaching across like this - you’ve got me tied in knots here!”

He nodded, wearing a thoughtful expression, though his eyes twitched, clueing me in that this contemplative look was just an act. “You know, you’re right. The way you’re stuck like that isn’t very symmetrical... Yeah, if I don’t do something about that, it’s going to annoy me.”

“Oh, it’s gonna annoy you?”

Any hope that he might release me was soon dispelled. “Find that I can move you easily,” he told me, taking hold of my left wrist and gently pulling it. As he did, my left hand immediately released my right wrist. He pulled it through the air, across my face and back to the left of my head. “But then it just stays wherever I move it to.” I couldn’t do anything to stop him from moving my hand or arm - they felt completely out of my control. He placed my hand on the side of my head, fingers splayed out, palm flat - exactly the same as my right hand. “Bound,” he said triumphantly.

So there I was. Hands stuck to their respective sides of my head. Feet planted in the floor, completely immobilised. Nude, exposed, and on display for my boyfriend/hypnotist.

Fuckety fuck, it felt good. Pleasure like I’d never felt before spread through every inch of me. My clit throbbed.

I tried to control my breathing, which had become very heavy as I grew more and more turned on. “Let me go, asshole!”

“Oh, are you not enjoying this?” he said with mock concern. “Because, uh... you seem to be getting rather excited!” He glanced down at my lower half. I did too, and even from the angle I was at while standing up with my hands and feet bound in place, I could see my absolutely glistening pussy.

I glared at him again, but I could no longer contain my smile - the harder I tried, the more it spread.

He approached me slowly, eyes roaming all over my body, sending even more sexy tingles through me. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Admit it.”

“Maybe...” I conceded. “Just a teeny, tiny bit...”

“You want me to take advantage of you like this, don’t you? Mess with you in your helpless state, while you can’t do anything to stop me...”

Oooooh. I bit my lip to stop myself from whimpering out loud at that.

“Held in place not by ropes or cuffs, but by the power of my words, and your own mind,” he continued, reaching out and stroking my neck gently.

Such shivers of arousal flooded through me, I actually did whimper aloud that time. My legs shook, and my right elbow jerked forwards.

He flinched, and then laughed. “Got to watch that - you could’ve had my eye out! Release.”

My hands immediately came away from my head, as easily as if they’d never been stuck there in the first place. I lifted one foot up after the other to test that they were indeed free, staring at Richard in confusion. “I thought you were going to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state?” I asked, trying to convey a dangerous, don’t even think about it tone, but finding myself using a pleading, why didn’t you do it voice instead. I even pouted, which I definitely didn’t intend to do (or at least, I don’t think I did)!

He winked. “All in good time, my dear. Have a seat.”

I glanced down at my wet pussy. “Um, maybe I should get cleaned up first?”

“Why, because of the couch cushions?” he snorted dismissively. “We can always give them a wipe later.”

Shrugging, I sat down. “OK, but if it turns out they need dry-cleaning, you’re paying for it.”

“Alright. Doesn’t seem fair, it’s your juices, but fine,” he chuckled. “Feel better now you can move properly again?”

No, I thought. “Yes.” Tie me up again. “Bastard.”

“Arms alright? Sorry they were in that position for so long.”

No problem, it was awesome. “You will be sorry.”

He laughed loudly. “Give them a stretch, make sure they’re alright.”

This sounded like a suggestion both my bratty and submissive sides could agree with, so I stretched both arms out in front of me.

“Arms bound.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I tried moving my arms out of their position, but only succeeded in jiggling them up and down a bit. “Really?” I snarked. “The zombie sleepwalker pose? We’re going there, already?”

He licked his lips. “Mmmm, zombie sleepwalker... But no, not yet. Plenty of time for that later. Instead...” He reached forwards and lifted first one, then the other arm up into the air, so they were pointing up above my head. He then pushed them closer together, so my wrists were lightly brushing against each other.

Now this position was familiar to me from the time we’d tried actual bondage, but somehow I was finding hypnotic bondage even hotter. I couldn’t move my arms from their position - I could move my hands, wiggling my fingers and clenching and unclenching them into fists - but though it felt like there was rope pulling them up to the ceiling, when I looked up I could plainly see nothing there.

A rush of pleasure hit me, twice as powerful as the strongest wave I’d felt before. I tried, but I could not suppress my ecstatic moan: “Mmmmm...” Embarrassed by that, I looked down, allowing my hair to fall in front of my face, so I didn’t have to look Richard in the eyes.

“Enjoying that, are ya?” he said teasingly.

“No comment,” I replied firmly, still not looking at him.

“Well, how about this? Feet bound” - I could again feel my feet magnetised to the carpet - “and...” - he took hold of my knees and pulled them in opposite directions, spreading my legs and widening my throbbing pussy - “knees bound. There, that’s a very enticing pose.”

“Uhhhnf,” I groaned, closing my eyes as I felt a yet more powerful surge of arousal. “Not... not so flattering, though...”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he chortled. “I think you look pretty as a picture!”

I finally looked at him again, just so I could roll my eyes at him. “You’re such a dork.”

He clasped a hand to his chest, wearing an expression of mock offence. “How rude! I think that calls for some punishment, if you ask me...”

“L-like what?” I stammered, trying so hard to maintain my defiant air despite the fact that I was now so horny I could hardly think straight.

He raised his hand and waggled his fingers in my direction. “Take a guess...”

Uh oh.

Before I could utter a word of protest, he reached forwards with both hands and tickled my ribs, fingers dancing across my stomach and up my sides. I shrieked so loudly I’m surprised I didn’t deafen him, and began wriggling desperately, closing my eyes tightly. As his hands moved up towards my armpits, I tried harder than ever to move my arms - to slam them down to my sides and block his progress - but to absolutely no effect.

“Nooooo!” I cried as his fingers reached my pits, jerking back and forth in my seat and shaking my head frantically from side to side, hair flying everywhere. He stayed where he was for a moment, clearly enjoying my complete inability to lower my arms and stop him from targeting my most vulnerable, ticklish point. Then his hands moved on to other areas - my neck, chest, boobs, nipples, stomach, belly button, and back to my ribs, before moving down my thighs and behind my knees.

All the while I giggled and squealed, jerking and shaking, trying hard to move in any direction at all, to get away from his merciless fingers. All the while my clit pulsed harder and harder, enjoying my utter helplessness. I’d have been moaning out loud if I wasn’t laughing, the tickling keeping the arousal buried while simultaneously feeding and enhancing it. I was immobilised, helpless, and horny as fuck.

It was hell.

It was heaven.

Finally, the tickling subsided, though it took me at least another five seconds to stop laughing, to calm down and regain some small degree of self-control. I realised tears were streaming down my face, blurring my vision. I still couldn’t move my arms or my legs.

When my vision cleared, I saw that Richard was holding up his phone, the camera pointed in my direction. “Thought you might like another memento,” he explained.

“That... that was not fair,” I gasped, my breathing still all over the place. My heart was pounding like it was trying to punch its way out of my chest. “That was so mean! I was wrong, you can clearly handle having this kind of power over someone - but maybe you shouldn’t have it!”

His eyebrows raised. “Do you want to stop?”

No, not on your life! “We-ell...”

“You do remember the safe words, right?” he said, suddenly serious.

“Yeah, yeah,” I confirmed, and I dropped all brattiness for a second to answer, “lime.” We had decided to use lime, lemon and beetroot rather than green, yellow and red, because we’re cool kids, obviously.

He sighed, his expression relaxing. “Good, just wanted to be sure. How turned on are you, by the way? Scale of one to ten?”

Twenty seven. “Three,” I answered, sticking my tongue out at him.

“Oh, AJ,” he tutted, smiling. “Why do you lie?”

“Who says I’m lying?” I said stubbornly.

“Well, your rock-hard nipples, for one thing. Or two things, I should say. And then there’s the small lake underneath you. I think I might have to foot the dry-cleaning bill after all!”

Oh yeah, so I squirted a little bit in the midst of all the tickling. (Don’t worry, I did not piss myself! I may have lost a lot of self-control and dignity in the past hour, but I wasn’t that far gone.)

I glared down at my nipples and pussy. “Traitors.”

“Yeah, you seem pretty horny right now. So horny, and so sensitive...”

He reached out and I flinched a little, expecting him to tickle me again. Instead he lightly stroked his index finger up my inner thigh.

Oooooh, that felt so good! I shook with pleasure, my eyes crossing slightly as I suppressed a moan.

“That even the slightest touch sends waves of arousal through you,” he continued softly.

He stroked my thigh again, and this time I couldn’t hold in my reaction. “Fuuuuck,” I sighed.

“Soon,” he replied with a wink.

That made me laugh. “Such a dork...”

I’d probably have said something else then - continued to tell him how ridiculous he was - but whatever I had in mind vanished as I felt a caress just under one of my boobs. Pleasure overwhelmed me then, and I closed my eyes and moaned loudly as my body throbbed and thrusted, still tied in place by the hypnosis, just trying to endure the arousal.

“Eyes bound,” I heard him say.

“Oh, what?!” I spluttered as I tried in vain to open my eyes again. I was effectively blindfolded now. Try as I might, I could not open my eyes again. And that meant I had no way of knowing what he was doing. I couldn’t tell where he was going to stroke and play with me next, I couldn’t see if he was taking more photos of me. I was stuck, eyes tightly shut, arms tied in the air, legs spread apart and bound in place, completely helpless and vulnerable.

God help me, I squirted again then. I heard him give a short, barking laugh of surprise. As he later told me, he’d only just avoided getting splashed! Ah well, next time I’ll get him...

I didn’t know this then, but as I half-lay on the couch in my tied, blindfolded position, Richard took another photo of me. I now have all the photos from that session - from every session - saved on my phone, in a zipped folder. Just looking at them - at myself, hypnotised and mindless, or bound with invisible ropes - turns me on big time. It’s good to know I have them readily available when I’m bored.

So I was bound and blind, helpless and horny. I felt my boyfriend’s hands take hold of me from under my armpits, and he moved my whole body, turning me in my seat so I was facing to my left. He then lay me back on the couch, putting me in a horizontal position. All the while, all the parts of me he had bound in place remained stuck, so that once I was lying down, instead of being glued to the floor, my feet were now hovering in mid-air. My legs remained wide apart, with my left leg now lying against the back cushions of the couch. And my arms were still stretched above my head, but they were still aligned with my back, so they were pointing horizontally now instead of vertically.

I tried to do a mocking laugh, but it turned into a moan halfway through. “So... so I’m your sex doll now, am I?” I managed to say.

“Well,” he said in that familiar naughty tone of his, “you are starting to resemble one...”

“Typical,” I snarked. “You get control of me, and this is the first thing you think to do with me.”

“Oh, I’ve got a long, long list of things I want to do with you, AJ. But this is a good place to start.”

I felt his fingers stroking across my boobs, one after the other - right along their surfaces, across my nipples - eliciting another loud cry of arousal from me.

“Mouth bound,” he told me as I was mid-moan, locking my mouth in a wide ‘O’ shape.

“Oh,” I groaned, feeling like I had lockjaw.

“There we go,” he said triumphantly, “that completes the resemblance! My very own sex doll.”

“’a’ ’u’ ’ea’!” (That translates to ‘that’s just mean!’)

“Beg pardon?” he chuckled.

“’u’ ’ou,” I replied. (‘Fuck you’, of course.)

“Oh, no,” he replied. “The other way round, I think...”

I heard the unmistakeable sound of a zipper, and seconds later the soft thud of clothing - his jeans - hitting the carpet.

As I realised what was (finally) about to happen, my body shook with anticipation, my clit throbbing, my hips already starting to thrust back and forth slightly.

“I want you to know how much I’ve enjoyed this,” he said softly, as I felt him enter me. “How amazing tonight has been. It’s been everything I could have wanted and more.”

He moved in me slowly at first, gently, probing back and forth. I felt his cock sliding in and out, up and down, exploring every part of my pussy, brushing my clit. I felt his hands move along my body, gently massaging my flesh, squeezing my boobs both separately and together.

Normally when we’re having sex, I like to move a lot - to wrap my legs around him, to move my arms up and down his back, right from his head down to his ass. Also, quite a lot of the time I’m on top. But this time, I was powerless. I couldn’t move. And with my mouth stuck open, I couldn’t contain my noises of pleasure and desire, which grew louder and louder with every passing second.

“I want you to know,” he panted, now breathing just as heavily as me, “that this is better than any of my fantasies, because it’s with you. I never imagined I’d find anyone who wanted to explore this with me...”

He sped up, thrusting faster and faster inside me. I was so close now. The memories of everything that had happened so far reverberated through my mind - staring transfixed at the spiral as my mind melted away; lying entranced with my head in his lap as he stroked my hair; stripping without being aware I was doing it; being tied up with invisible ropes... All this combined with the helpless, ecstatic sex I was having right now, and with the paradoxical delight I felt from both being bound in place like his sex doll and from the positive words he was saying to me. It was all too much. I was going to come any second.

“You’re amazing, AJ,” Richard moaned, clearly as close as I was. “You’re... such... a very... very... good girl.”

And we exploded together, crying out in utter joy.

I don’t know how long that moment lasted. It felt like hours. It had been the best sex we’d ever had - the best sex I’d ever had.

At some point he must have said, “Release.” Because by the time we were done, my arms were no longer held in place, my legs were able to rest on the couch, and my jaw was slack. I could’ve opened my eyes, but I didn’t really have the energy. Maybe he didn’t say it, though - maybe at the height of the orgasm, my mind was so overwhelmed that I just stopped responding to the bound trigger. But I prefer to think that he did release me - that when we do hypnosis, he has absolute control over me. Doubting that, even a little bit, might weaken its effectiveness - and we wouldn’t want that!

We lay there for some minutes, spent, exhausted. My limbs were draped across the couch, my head tilted to one side as he lay on top of me, his arms across my chest, his hair tickling my cheek slightly.

I half-opened my eyes and looked at him. “That... was awesome,” I whispered gleefully.

He raised his head to look at me, a sly glint in his eyes. “Spiral.”

“Uhh...” My eyes rolled back in my head as my lids flickered shut.

As my mind sank back into blissful oblivion, the whirling vortex filling my thoughts once again, I heard my lover’s voice.

“Oh, Alyssa... The best is yet to come.”