So, I’ve told you about the start of my hypnotic journey - discovering Richard’s kink, getting hypnotised for the first time, discovering I have a fucking huge kink for it myself... That first week was really special for both of us, and I’ve enjoyed sharing it with you so much. But I think I’m going to switch things up for this chapter, rather than continuing to tell you every single detail of every single hypnosis session - as fun as it’d be to relive it! Suffice to say, over the next few months we continued playing around, trying out so many suggestions, triggers and scenarios.

We revisited basically everything we’d done in Week One - hypnotic bondage; the hot and hilarious memory play; me doing things without knowing I’m doing it, like stripping and masturbating... There was a lot more ‘slave training’, with Richard compelling me to obey his commands (obliviously, while fully aware but unable to stop myself, and while blank and mindless) and to chant submissive mantras. As you’ll have noticed, I respond well to the word ‘plaything’, so he made sure to include that in most of the mantras. Mmm, I love being a plaything. That’s not to say I gave him an easy time of it - when I wasn’t forced to yield to his every whim, I snarked and mocked with as much gusto as ever. You can’t keep a good brat down! (Or you can, for a while, if you switch her brain off.)

And believe me, there was plenty of sex in the hypnotic mix. Plus, denial! I’d never done much of that before (except the odd occasion when I’ve been masturbating and had to do an ‘emergency stop’, either because I’d run out of time or I was in danger of being interrupted - you know how it is). But after those first couple of times when he locked my orgasms away and made me beg for them during Week One, I got a bit of a taste for it. It definitely adds to the whole submission thing, being unable to cum without my boyfriend’s - my Master’s - permission.

Oh, and he turned me into a chicken a bunch more. Yeah, that’s a thing. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it, it’s pretty chill being a chicken!

Anyway, that covers the majority of what we did in those first few months - mostly redoing the stuff we got a kick out of in Week One. (Which was all of it.) Of course, there was plenty of new stuff too, dotted in and amongst everything else. Some of it was during sessions, and some of it was... not!

I thought that for this chapter I’d do a bit of a montage to show the best bits from the next few months. Like in movies, where they show a bunch of clips across a span of time, with music playing in the background. (Although, you might need more than one song for this montage! If you want some options, I refer you to the playlist I made, which is at the end of this chapter...) I won’t get around to every new thing in this chapter alone, but these are my favourite little anecdotes. I might revisit everything else in the future. Trust me, there will never be any shortage of things to talk about. We’ve done a lot of stuff!

Without further ado... cue the music!

***

“Mmm, I really needed this,” I sighed, sipping my coffee. “Long morning...”

Richard and I were sitting close together in a booth at a diner. It was almost mid-day - he’d picked me up after my shift at work, as he’d happened to be shopping near the restaurant, and we’d decided to get coffee before going home.

“Problem customers?” he asked me. I had deliberately sat right next to him in the booth so I could nestle up to him, and he had obligingly put his arm around me.

“Nah, no-one difficult - just a lot of them. Loads of families, taking their kids out to celebrate the end of the school year.” I groaned. “My feet are killing me...”

“Poor thing!” He gave me an affectionate squeeze.

“I just wanna chill out, turn my brain off,” I sighed.

He gave me a wry glance. “In the ‘stare at the TV’ way, or the ‘hypnosis’ way?”

“Both,” I chuckled. “Pity you can’t hypnotise me right here, right now. Too much noise...”

“Well, maybe,” he replied, looking me in my eyes. He took one of my hands in his, wrapping his fingers around it. “Although, if the past month has proven anything, it’s that you’re very good at ignoring distractions. Dismissing things you see, tuning out background noise, focusing only on what’s important...”

“Mm,” I agreed, nodding slightly.

He started to gently stroke the hand he was holding with his thumb, rubbing it back and forth over the knuckle of my index finger. It was very soothing. “So while there’s a lot going on in this diner,” he continued, “you can find that it’s easy to ignore it and focus on me - the way people always do in these places. They block out everyone else and just focus on the people they’re with, looking at them, talking to them, listening to them... That’s just what you’re doing right now. You’re just looking at me, listening to me talk.”

I said nothing, continuing to gaze into his eyes, barely registering that he’d captivated me with his stare or his subtle segue into his hypno-voice. I was still aware of the hustle and bustle around us in the diner, but paid attention to none of it, my focus entirely on Richard. We were so close together that our foreheads brushed lightly against one another.

“And as you continue to listen to me, you find yourself getting more relaxed, more peaceful, more compelled by my words, more fixed on my eyes,” he said softly. “And you know that it’s safe for you to do that, because I’d never make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with, or embarrass yourself in public. But nonetheless, you can find that the part of your brain that decides if this is lime, lemon, or beetroot, is still aware and active, as always - and you can find that it’s easy for you to answer with whichever of those words applies right now...”

After a couple of seconds of silence from him, I mumbled, “Lime.”

“Very good. Feeling so tranquil and contented, knowing you’re being drawn down into trance, knowing you’re helpless to stop it, knowing you’ve given up control to me again... Easy to follow... Easy to obey... Just a mindless plaything...”

As he kept speaking quietly to me, I kept gazing mindlessly into his eyes, my mouth starting to hang open - but only a little. I guess some tiny part of me was aware of where I was and that there was a bunch of people around me, which was why I wasn’t doing anything to make our little chat any more strange to potential onlookers. So, no slack-jawed drooling - and I was far less aroused than usual, instead mostly just feeling relaxed and blissful. Richard must have taken such considerations into account, which was why his induction, which would normally have been peppered with descriptors about how horny I’d be getting, was mostly focused on relaxation as well.

Of course, none of this occurred to me at the time. And it wouldn’t for a little while afterwards either.

“Coming back to full awareness for me, in three, two, one - awake.” He snapped his fingers.

I jerked awake and slumped sideways in my seat, nestling against him and yawning. “What were we talking about?”

“About how you’d had a busy morning...”

“Oh, yeah, so busy. I was running about so much, I’m surprised my feet aren’t killing me!”

He smiled, gazing at me adoringly. “Well, how about we finish our drinks and head home for a nice chilled-out afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me,” I grinned, picking up my coffee. “I’m in the mood to turn my brain off...”

***

“You’re sure you’re not hypnotised?”

“Come on, dude - after all this time, I can definitely tell the difference, ten!”

“Even if I’d given you a suggestion not to realise?”

“Well, you’ve done that so many times, I’m prepared for it when you do it - so I know how that feels, and I can figure out if it’s happening, nine.”

***

Humming to myself, I fished the last plate out of the sink full of hot water, and began scrubbing it. I don’t know why some people complain about washing dishes; I don’t mind it. It’s pretty relaxing, especially when you get into the rhythm of it. You can just run on automatic and not really think about it - or about anything. Kinda like hypnosis, to be honest. Must be why it appeals to me!

With that last plate cleaned, I put it on the draining board, dried my hands, and turned to leave the kitchen. Then I stopped in my tracks at the sight of Richard leaning in the doorway, smirking.

I gave him a bemused look. “Uh... how long have you been standing there?”

“A while.”

“Were you... watching me wash dishes? Why, you weirdo?” I laughed.

“Well, partly because I was admiring your beauty, as usual,” he said matter-of-factly, earning both an eyeroll and an affectionate smile from me. “And partly because of this...” He brandished his phone. Approaching him, I could see that he had a video cued up. The screenshot showed me standing in front of the sink, scrubbing a plate.

My eyebrows inched ever further up my head. “You filmed me washing dishes? Dude, this might be an even more unusual kink than the hypnosis.”

He burst out laughing. “Before you judge me, you might want to watch it!”

Shrugging, I watched as he pressed play. Past Me began scrubbing, but contrary to what I remembered, she wasn’t humming. She was talking quietly to herself. I frowned at Richard, who turned the volume up, making my recorded self’s words fully audible.

“I am hypnotised, I must obey,” she chanted. “I’m your mind-controlled slave. I love being hypnotised. I’m your spellbound plaything...” She repeated these four sentences over and over, going round and round in a loop as she obliviously continued to wash dishes, her - my - voice never faltering as she set each plate aside and drew another out of the water.

As my younger self continued to drone mindlessly, I gave Richard a look of mock outrage. “What,” I spluttered, “when, when did -”

“Spiral,” he interrupted, his smirk growing wider.

“Duhh...”

My eyes rolled back and my head lolled forwards, but my body remained upright. (In recent days Richard had trained me to stay standing without being held up when I’m put back into trance.) As I sank like a stone back into the Spiral Seas, I heard my own recorded voice reiterating, “I’m your mind-controlled slave. I love being hypnotised...”

***

“That was good! We should go out for lunch more often,” I remarked as Richard and I approached the front door of our apartment.

He nodded his agreement. “Yeah, it was a nice treat.”

“Although, did you have to eat that cheeseburger quite so gleefully?” I said with a smirk. “It was like you were taunting me with it!”

He looked back at me with that adorable apprehensive face he gets when he’s a little uncertain whether I’m joking. “I didn’t mean to... If there was any taunting, it was entirely unintentional! Besides, you seemed quite happy with your vegan pizza.”

“Mm, yeah, I was! That was a good pizza, honestly. Better than the ones we usually get delivered.” I fumbled in my jacket pocket for my front door key.

“What d’you want to do this afternoon?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Chill out and watch TV?”

“That’s all?” He smiled, suddenly looking a little shifty.

I gave him my best suspicious frown. “You’re looking shifty all of a sudden.” (See?) “Are you up to somethin’?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” The combination of his voice’s sudden squeakiness and his use of the word ‘whatever’ only convinced me further that he was being mischievous. “I’m just... I’m just here enjoying life with my wonderful girlfriend...”

“Awww. What’d you do?”

He chuckled and gave up, stepping closer and putting his arms around me. “Alright, alright - you’ll soon find out.”

I peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Does whatever it is involve you screwing with my brain?”

“No comment.”

Pouting in mock outrage, I drew away from him and went to unlock the front door. “Fine, be like that. Guess I’ll just brace myself all afternoon for the hammer to drop...”

I opened the door and stepped in the apartment.

“SURPRISE!”

I almost jumped out of my skin. My home was filled with people I knew - my parents, who must’ve flown out from Cotati; my best friends, Lily and Adam; and several other friends and acquaintances. Handing above a doorway was a colourful banner saying ‘HAPPY 24TH BIRTHDAY ALYSSA’.

My mouth hanging open, I gave Richard a look of astonishment before darting across the room to embrace my Mom and Dad. I went around greeting family and friends, all of whom seemed very pleased to learn I had no inkling of the party. Of course, none of them knew the real reason the surprise worked so well.

Eventually I circled back to Monsieur Le Fuck Hawk. “Sooo,” he said, “did you like your surprise?”

“I did. A lot.” I drew closer to him and continued in a low voice, “Particularly since I didn’t even know today was my birthday! Have we celebrated already today - have you given me presents?”

“Oh yeah, first thing this morning.”

I shook my head, blushing with embarrassment (even now, a good three months into our mind-bending mayhem, it still blew me away that I could forget such crucial information). “And presumably you hypnotised me at the restaurant?”

He nodded. “Do you want me to give you your memories back?”

I hesitated, considering. “Not yet,” I said eventually. “Let me enjoy the surprise for a little longer.” And I darted forwards and kissed him on the lips.

***

“I see. So you think you’ve defeated my hypnotic powers at last. I can’t manipulate you any more, make you do things obliviously - anything I do to you, you know it’s happening?”

“You’re damn right, eight!”

***

“Come on, then, I’m all ears,” Richard said, sitting down on the couch next to me. “Tell me about these arsehole customers then.”

“OK, so they booked as an eight,” I began with clear exasperation. “But then when they turned up - it was three women, four men, and a couple of little kids - they insisted on sitting on two tables of four. And not two tables next to each other, but on opposite sides of the fucking restaurant!”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense,” he mused, snapping his fingers.

“I - I know, right? And it was just me and Esme there, and she’s only eighteen and pretty shy, so she just let them sit where they wanted. Even though we had a table of eight set out - and she did tell them that - they basically said ‘nah, fuck that’.”

“I mean, why?” He shook his head in disbelief and snapped his fingers again. “What on Earth were they thinking?”

“Well, exactly...” I trailed off, staring into space.

“So, what happened next?”

“Huh? Oh, right - so they sat at two different tables, the women at one and the men at the other, with two other tables - occupied tables - in between. And then they start yelling to each other from across the room! Like, over the heads of the people between them, who were being perfectly well-behaved and pleasant.” I was slightly distracted from my story when Richard snapped his fingers again, but after a moment’s hesitation I ploughed on, thinking nothing of it. “These... these people... so they were having shouted conversations across the restaurant. And their kids were running back and forth, completely out of control, acting out and getting paid absolutely no attention - they nearly tripped us more than once while we were carrying plates of food, me and, uh...” I frowned.

“Esme?” Richard prompted. Snap.

“R-right, yeah, Esme,” I stammered. Then I frowned again. “Who’s Esme?”

“The other waitress,” he said patiently. Snap.

“Other waitress?” I laughed, confused. “Who was the first waitress?”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about it.” Snap.

I felt a wave of dizziness as I tried to remember what we were talking about. “What... uh... what’s going on?” I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. “Are you doing something?”

“I don’t know what you mean, dear.” Snap. “Go on with your story. What did the idiot customers do next?”

“The... the idiot customers...” With a Herculean effort, I managed to recall where I’d got up to in my anecdote. “So, they were letting their kids run around, and they were yelling to each other... and...” Snap. “And... and...” Snap. “Uh...”

“Hard to remember?” Richard teased. “Hard to think? Bits of your mind drifting away?”

“Ummm...” I stared vacantly past him, finding the effort of trying to speak or think exhausting. A final snap robbed me of almost all that remained of my mind, leaving me sitting cross-legged on the couch, gazing blankly at nothing, my eyelids flickering. He reached forwards and took hold of my wrists, lifting them up and stretching my arms out in front of me. They obediently hung in mid-air, and I stayed in that sleepwalker pose for a good minute and a half, as the tiniest fragment of my mind fought valiantly but pointlessly to remember what I was talking about, who I was or what was going on.

“And, mind released,” he said at last.

Dropping my arms to my sides and shaking my head to clear the fog, I glared at him, trying to suppress my smile, and began to barrage him with playful slaps. “I was trying to tell you a story, you ass!”

He laughed as he tried to repel my assault. “Ow! Well, you already told me! I just made you forget that you had for the purposes of messing with you!”

“Ah, for fuck’s sake!”

I kept up my ‘assault’, increasing the ferocity when I noticed him getting that mischievous sadistic look again. Sure enough, he soon stopped my slaps with “Sleep”, sending me back into trance. As I was leaning forwards to attack him at the time, this resulted in me falling on him and headbutting him in the hip, which probably hurt him more than any of my previous strikes!

***

“What’s left on the list?” I asked, as I ambled through the grocery store in Richard’s wake.

“Uh... peanut butter, bog roll, handwash,” he recited, his eyes scrolling down the meticulously organised shopping list in his hand. He’s good at stuff like that - writing lists to prepare himself when he’s going shopping. Personally I tend to wing it, which is probably why he decided to take charge of grocery shopping! He usually goes alone, but I had nothing to do today so I decided to join him and help.

“OK, well, why don’t you get the toilet paper and the handwash, and I’ll go get the peanut butter,” I suggested. “Many hands make light work!”

He shrugged. “Better than many heels, I suppose. Alright, feel free.”

Glancing around, I saw that the aisle where I’d likely find the peanut butter was across and slightly along the store - to get to it I’d have to walk back to the start of our current aisle and then zig-zag. As Richard kept walking forwards, I started to trot back the way we’d come.

I got only two steps before stopping in my tracks. My feet suddenly felt magnetised - not stuck down to the floor the way they are when they’re usually hypnotically bound, but more like they couldn’t go any further forwards. I couldn’t get them to shift an inch.

Eyes narrowed in confusion and suspicion, I turned to look back at Richard - but he was still walking in the other direction, seemingly oblivious to the weirdness I was experiencing. It got even weirder then, as I found myself staggering after him, completely involuntarily. It was as if I had to stay a certain distance from him - the further he went, the more I stumbled forwards to keep up with him. As I was pulled after him, I tried my best to conceal my jerky, uncontrolled movement from other shoppers or staff. (Luckily, the place was almost empty.)

I made an effort to catch up to him, finding it easier to walk freely and naturally the closer I got. Reaching him, I gave him a baleful stare.

“Oh hey, that was quick.” He glanced at my empty hands. “Uh, where’s the peanut butter?”

“I know what you did,” I sighed.

“Me? What did I do?” He was getting better at playing innocent, but I could still see a fiendish glint in his eyes.

“You’ve put me on a leash, haven’t you? An invisible leash, so I can’t get more than a little way away from you!”

I kept my tone annoyed, trying to disguise my growing smile - and my simmering arousal. As frustrating as it was not to be able to walk around freely, it was hot to find myself on a leash, imagined or otherwise. It made me feel so... owned. Like property. Like a pet. Like a slave...

“Now, when would I have done that?” He smiled wickedly. “I mean, you were darting around the shop getting things for me before, and now suddenly you claim you can’t any more... It’s not like I shouted ‘heel’, is it?”

As he said ‘heel’, I felt an odd sensation of something tightening around my neck, just a little bit. I raised my eyebrows. “Well, that’s the trigger word, then, isn’t it?”

“What is? Heel?”

More tightening, and I felt a slight tug towards him, as if he was pulling on the leash. “Yes! You slipped it in sneakily before, to trigger the suggestion - and now every time you say it, it feels like the leash gets tighter... I bet the distance I can walk is shrinking each time, too.” I bit my lip to try to suppress a horny flare from that thought.

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem too upset about it... Maybe you even like the idea, just a little bit.” He lowered his voice to make sure he wasn’t overheard as he continued, “Maybe it’s turning you on. Getting you wet. You might want to be careful you don’t mess up your underwear - I didn’t bring an emergency pair...”

I tutted, and then covertly slipped a hand into the waistband of my denim shorts, working my fingers down to check the condition of my panties. What I found - or rather, didn’t find - surprised me, and made me even hornier.

“I’m not wearing any panties,” I whispered, half-indignantly and half-excitedly.

“Well, well,” he chuckled. “How forgetful of you!”

I giggled nervously, glancing around. “OK, this is hot as all hell, but I think maybe we should get out of here before my shorts get soaked through!”

“You may have a point there! Alright, release. I’ll go and get the last few things on the list - you can go wait in the car if you want, to spare your blushes!”

“Good call! This was very embarrassing, I hate you, I love you. See you in a minute.”

I scurried away, his laughter echoing through the aisle behind me.

***

“Isn’t that frustrating? Like, when I compel you to do something, and you know you’re doing it but you can’t stop yourself? I know how much that agitates you!”

“Well, yeah, but I figure it’s better to know some bullshit is happening and not be able to do anything about it, than not to know and be doing something ridiculous without even realising, seven.”

“Hmm. I guess I see the logic in that. Still, I think you’re lying, or at least exaggerating, about how much you’re aware of. You’re trying to make me think you’ve got the upper hand - because even after all these months I’ve spent squashing your free will, you’re still an utter brat!”

“You’re so rude to me, six!”

***

“Three, two, one, awake.”

I woke up - but I couldn’t open my eyes. Frowning, I flexed the muscles above my eyes, but the lids refused to lift. They were bound shut! And they weren’t the only part of me that was stuck - my arms were tied in the air, stretched up above me and held in place by imaginary ropes.

I laughed nervously, unable to recall how I’d got in this situation. The last thing I remembered was the Halloween party I’d attended with Richard. He wore a long black cape over a smart suit, with plastic fangs in his mouth to complete the vampiric outfit. (He’d suggested I use makeup to make his complexion whiter, but I pointed out that he was pale enough anyway!) I was dressed as Britney from the ‘Baby One More Time’ video - white shirt with the bottom knotted up; grey cardigan; dark grey skirt; black shoes with long-ass grey socks that go past my knees; and, to complete the effect, pigtails. But to make it a low-key couple’s costume, I’d also used stage makeup to add two dark red bite marks on my neck.

I couldn’t remember leaving the party. That didn’t mean we hadn’t - Richard could have removed my memory of doing so. But with my eyes stuck shut, I had no idea whether I was still at the party, or back at home, or even somewhere else entirely! Although, it was pretty quiet, so it seemed less likely that we were at the party.

I strained against my invisible restraints, but of course I couldn’t lower my arms an inch. (Needless to say, this made me feel pretty damn horny.) “What the fuck?” I spluttered. “Richard, are you there? What’s happening?”

There was a prolonged pause, during which I wondered if he’d left me like this - hypno-bound me and then just fucked off and left me on my own. Mmm, that would’ve been hot...

“I’m here,” came his voice suddenly from about two feet in front of me, almost making me jump out of my skin.

“Holy shit! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

I heard his low chuckle. “Sorry! Just having a bit of fun with you. You looked so sexy in that costume, I couldn’t resist using my hypnotic powers on you...”

“Oh, of course, you just had to!” I giggled, layering on the sarcasm thickly. Then I switched to a seductive tone as I continued, “So, now that you’ve got me all tied up and helpless, what do you plan on doing with me?”

He didn’t reply - not verbally, anyway. But a moment later his hands began moving up my body, starting from my thighs. As he reached around me and grasped my butt, I could feel his warm breath inches from my face. Then I felt his caress run up my sides, up to my boobs, which he fondled lovingly through my shirt. I bit my lip, the arousal I already felt growing stronger.

“In case you were wondering,” he said quietly, his voice taking on a teasing tone, “I’m working my way to the most sensitive, erotic part of you...”

I frowned, not sure what he meant. Then a couple of seconds later - as his outstretched fingers began to approach my face - it was all suddenly clear to me.

“Oh, you suck,” I laughed, trying in vain to lean back, to get my face out of his reach (as, even though I still couldn’t see, I was pretty certain what he was about to do). “No, no, fuck off, you shit, stop it! No - uh, uhhhng!”

That was my witty and loquacious reaction to his fingers meeting my nose and starting to stroke it. Immediately becoming about twenty times hornier than I already was, I simply melted, forgetting to be bratty and objectionable, and let him continue to rub my relocated clit - although, as I grew more enthusiastic, in truth it would be more accurate to say I was the one rubbing him, using his fingers to vigorously masturbate from the wrong end of my body.

Just as I reached the edge, he abruptly snatched his fingers away, prompting an anguished whine from me. “Ohhhhh, come on!” I bleated, rubbing my thighs together in a futile bid to satisfy myself. “You can’t just work me up like that, and then...”

“Eyes released,” he interrupted.

My eyelids flickered open, blinking hard to get my eyes to adjust to the sudden light. As my vision became clear, I saw Richard standing not far in front of me, in front of the wall mirror in our living room. So we had returned home after all...

Like me, Richard was still in costume, the fangs making his amused smile look more sinister than usual. “There you are,” I said long-sufferingly. “Now, can you let the rest of me go so I can finish?”

“Not quite yet.” He walked towards me, but then angled himself to one side and walked past me. “Do you notice anything interesting?”

I tried to shrug, which isn’t easy when your arms are stuck in the air. “Like what?”

“Look in the mirror,” he suggested.

I did, sighing with barely-restrained arousal at the sight of myself and my predicament. “I mean, I look really helpless and hot, but that’s nothing new...”

“What about me?” he asked, stepping directly behind me. “How do I look?”

I caught my breath, astonished and a little scared.

My reflection was alone. There was no-one standing behind me.

Richard’s hand brushed my hair from my neck, exposing the two fake (?) bite marks. In the mirror, my hair shifted aside, seemingly of its own accord.

“Y-you...” I stammered, suddenly chilled to the bone - and at the same time even more aflame in my nether regions.

He moved back in front of me, plastic (?) fangs bared. “I what?” he smirked. Behind him, I could still see only myself, wide-eyed and shivering with fright.

“Are you... a vampire?” I laughed weakly, as if to indicate that it wasn’t a serious question, inwardly pleading him to ridicule the very idea.

He kept smiling that terrible smile. “The evidence does seem to suggest it... And it would explain why it’s so easy for me to entrance you, wouldn’t it? How you lose control of your mind and body whenever you... look into my eyes.”

Compelled by the emphasis on those words, my own eyes suddenly felt irresistibly drawn to his. As I gazed into his blue irises, they seem to glow and change colour, turning first to deep purple and then slowly changing to blood red. I felt my fear ebb, my thoughts slow to a crawl and then a standstill, my mouth hang open, as I remained transfixed on his eyes, falling back under his power...

(We’d both wanted to try that scene for a long time, and it did not disappoint - man, it was fucking hot!)

***

“OK, look, so last night you told me to strip without realising, while we kept up a conversation... and I acted like I didn’t know I was doing it... but I was fully aware the whole time, five!”

“Or so you say. But how can you be sure I didn’t just make you think you were aware, retroactively? Maybe I’m making you believe you have this much awareness and self-control, just to play with you...”

“Nn - no, you can’t... you can’t gaslight me like that any more, four...”

***

“Blank and mindless... Blank and mindless... Blank and mindless...”

I quietly chanted the words without even consciously understanding them any more, as I gazed into the spiral on my laptop screen. I was lying on the couch, head resting on a pillow of my own hair, staring vacantly at the computer on the table.

“Blank and mindless... Blank and mindless... Blank and mindless...”

Most of me was as limp as if there were no bones in my body at all, but my left hand was between my legs, rubbing my pussy through my sweatpants. The longer I spent in trance, the hornier I grew, with my nimble fingers helping to work me right up to the edge.

“Blank and mindless... Blank and mindless... Blank and mindless...”

“AJ? Uh, AJ - coming up and out of trance for me in three, two, one... awake.”

Richard snapped his fingers, and I woke with a start, blinking dazedly and looking up at him as he stood over me wearing a bemused expression. My laptop was closed. For a few seconds it was hard for me to recall exactly how I’d got in this position - had he put me under?

Then it all came back to me. Richard hadn’t hypnotised me - I’d hypnotised myself!

He had gone to Massachusetts for a few days to visit his cousin, while I stayed behind to work. He was coming back today, and I’d got bored waiting and decided to have some hypnosis fun on my own for a little while. As I’d pulled up the spiral file that had been so effective at putting me under that first night (and on numerous occasions since), I had very deliberately started chanting “Blank and mindless” in the hope of speeding up the process. It worked, too. I was completely lost within about twenty seconds of pressing play and lying down to watch.

Groaning, I sat up. Richard sat next to me and came in for a cuddle. “Hey you,” I mumbled happily.

“Hi,” he chuckled, still looking quizzical. “So, I hope you haven’t spent the last three days like that!”

“Oh, no, no,” I laughed. “I was just doing this to pass the time ’til you got home tonight... You’re back earlier than I expected!”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s nearly nine o’clock, Alyssa - if anything, I’m late!”

I gaped. “Nine? I put myself under at 6.30! Are you seriously telling me I’ve been in trance, chanting and rubbing myself for over two hours?!”

“I guess so! You were pretty damn deep when I came in. You didn’t respond to me saying your name, and when I shut your laptop you just kept staring into space.”

I shook my head in astonishment. Two hours...

“You should’ve set an alarm, babe...”

“I did!” I checked my phone, and then hid my face in my hand from embarrassment. “And it went off. Three times. Didn’t even notice. That’s... oops.”

“You should’ve set a more annoying alarm, babe,” he said, without missing a beat.

“Clearly! Something much louder and more high-pitched, like a fire alarm...” I rubbed my throat, suddenly noticing how sore it was from all the chanting. “I could do with something to drink,” I told him. My stomach gurgled, as if to get my attention. “And eat!” I added. “I’m fuckin’ starving.”

“Coming right up,” he said amiably, getting up and trotting off towards the kitchen.

I sank back in my seat, absent-mindedly giving my crotch another rub. I genuinely wasn’t sure if I’d orgasmed while I was in trance, but if I had, I’d been working myself back up again when Richard had returned and woken me. So I was feeling a little frustration! But sexual release could wait until after I’d had food and water. After all, I still had to give my boyfriend a proper welcome home...

(A brief post-script to this particular vignette: after this incident, Richard and I agreed I shouldn’t do any more unsupervised hypnosis unless I’d set an alarm that would definitely wake me up! I did find a decent one eventually, thank God. But the image of me staring blankly at my laptop stayed with him, and he started setting little traps to put me in trance, though only for a little while before he came and released me. For instance, if I walked away and left the computer unlocked, I might come back to find the spiral video playing, and have to try and switch it off before my mind got ensnared. Three times out of five, I manage it just fine. The other two, part of me clearly doesn’t want to put up a fight!)

***

The warm water made my skin hum with pleasure as it cascaded down onto me. Smiling, with my eyes closed as I let the liquid flow down my face and through my hair, I reached down between my legs to tease my pussy.

On this bitterly cold November evening, I had walked back from work wrapped in a thick coat, with a fluffy hood that kept my ears warm and cosy. But my face had almost no protection from the biting wind, and by the time I’d got home my nose and cheeks felt like they’d frozen. Richard, who’d been in an armchair typing away furiously at his laptop as he tried to finish his latest script, had taken one look at me and got up to give me a hug. We’d chatted briefly, and then I’d gone to have my shower - but not before he remarked that he’d been intending to have one too, and suggested with a wry eyebrow-raise that he could join me once he’d reached a stopping point with his writing.

“If the hot water doesn’t warm you up, I can think of a few things that will!” he sniggered. I responded with a provocative eyebrow wiggle of my own.

As well as soothing my aches and pains from my long and arduous afternoon shift, the water had indeed heated my body sufficiently, but I had no intention of turning my boyfriend away when he came to join me. I rarely say no to a bit of shower sex. But first I intended to get myself ready for him - warmed up in a different sense! Hence the masturbating.

Letting out a little cry as I slid a finger inside myself, I leaned my head forwards so that the water wouldn’t fall into my open mouth. It was now pouring directly onto the top of my head instead, feeling like a thousand tiny fingers drumming on my scalp, sending tingles through me. I rolled my head around on my neck, delighting in the sensations of the water impacting on it from above and running down its sides, caressing my face and soaking into my skin.

God, it had been such a long afternoon. The restaurant had been so busy, I’d run around so much... This shower was doing me the world of good. The water was making me feel so warm, so happy, so dreamy... And my own skilful fingers were turning me on so much...

The rest of the world was vanishing. It was so hard to care about anything outside the four close walls of the shower. As the touch of my hands made me hornier, and the feeling of the water made me spacier, it was becoming a struggle to even remember being so worn out at work, or the icily cold wind outside, or anything else, really. It was like it had never happened - like nothing had existed before the shower...

I even forgot that I’d only meant to work myself up a little to prepare myself for Richard. Instead I kept going, rubbing faster and harder, sluicing both water from the shower and juices from my pussy in and out of myself, reaching to the edge - and going beyond into glorious release, as the water continued to wash over me, wash through me, wash my thoughts away...

When a fully nude Richard stepped into the shower (which was only a couple of minutes later), he found me standing stock still under the water, facing away from him. My head and shoulders were slumped; my arms hung limply at my sides. The downpour onto my head continued, with my normally curly and vibrant hair drenched and flat. My eyes stared at nothing.

At the sound of him, I slowly turned, my feet falling heavily on the floor of the cubicle. I raised my head slightly, gazing dreamily up at him, a blissful smile spreading across my face. “I am ready to obey, Master,” I droned.

He grinned and stepped closer to me. As his erect cock approached its gushing wet destination, he chuckled, “Now that’s what I call brainwashing!”

If I’d had a mind at that moment, I would’ve groaned loudly at that. All that, just for that shite joke? What a dork.

***

“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re not hypnotised? Because, um, you do seem to be getting a little... slower. More disoriented. As if you’re beginning to sink into trance...”

“Nope, nuh uh... not me... three...”

“It sure looks like it. Your eyelids are drooping... Your head’s lolling... It’s getting harder and harder to get a sentence out, or to get any words out at all...”

“Yuh - you shut up, man... I’m f-fine... I’m not going to... to... two...”

***

“Three, two, one, awake.”

My eyes flickered open, and I found myself standing a few feet away from the coffee table. My body was rigid and locked in place, standing at attention, my feet planted in the carpet and my arms straight at my sides, but I could move my eyes and mouth, and I could speak. This was a pretty standard position to wake up in at this point, although it was unusual to find myself fully dressed.

The more unusual part was the clay model on a tray on the table. It was humanoid, with arms and feet separated out and even little indentations on its face where the eyes and mouth should be.

“What fresh hell is this?” I sighed.

Richard appeared from behind me, approaching the table. I saw that his hands had flecks of wet clay on them, which was a big deal - he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty in any way. As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, he’s kinda hygiene-crazy. Mud, dust, sand - all firmly ruled out. He even tends to go and wash his hands after fingering me. So the fact that he’d been messing around with clay...

He noticed me gaping at his hands. “I know,” he chuckled. “I’m squirming a lot right now, and not in the fun horny way. But I think it’ll be worth it...” He gestured to the clay model. “I know it’s not a good likeness - blame my crappy sculpting skills for that - but it’s supposed to represent you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I mean, of course it is. I don’t know what you mean - the resemblance is uncanny.”

“Button it,” he smirked. “There’s a reason I said ‘represent’. You’ve heard of voodoo dolls, right? You know the stories about how witches would steal a hair from a victim and bind it to a little doll, like a wooden marionette or a lump of clay, so they can control that person’s movements?”

“Oh, I see! So, this is supposed to control me with voodoo, is it?”

Hearing my sceptical tone, he rolled his eyes and reached down to the clay model, taking hold of one of its spindly limbs. As he lifted it, I felt my left arm rising too, stretched out to the side of me just as the model’s arm was. My eyes darted back and forth between my rising limb and its little clay duplicate.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “That’s so cool...”

Leaving the clay arm pointing straight out to the left - and my arm suspended in mid-air, stuck in the exact same position - Richard took the clay figure’s head between two fingers and made it nod back and forth. My own head nodded in time with its movements, my gaze never leaving the model.

“Why, yes, AJ,” he sniggered. “It is very cool. Now I can manipulate your body however I see fit...” (Well, that sentence was definitely intended to turn me on. It worked.)

He spent a good few minutes screwing around with the clay model, making me move my arms around into all sorts of weird angular positions, and tilting my head to odd angles. I kept up a steady torrent of jibes, snark and abuse, until he finally decided he’d had enough and smoothed over the lower half of the clay figure’s face, erasing the mouth indent. As he did so, I felt my lips press together and become glued shut. This was different from when he’d bound my mouth in the past - this time it really felt like I didn’t have a mouth any more! I couldn’t make any sounds through it, not even the tiniest squeak.

Eventually he tired of this, and went to wash his hands vigorously, leaving me still stuck in the living room with only my little clay doppelgänger for company. When he returned, he didn’t even look at me at first, instead making his way to the front door. He held one of the tote bags we use for our grocery shopping in one hand.

“I’m just gonna pop to the shops quickly,” he announced, turning round to face me at last. “We’re a bit low on a few things...”

I couldn’t make a single noise or hand gesture to signify my alarm, but I think my wide eyes got the point across. The point being, of course: Where the fuck do you think you’re going while I’m stuck like this?!

“Don’t worry, I won’t be long!” he said cheerfully, and left without another word.

I was furious. (Consciously, anyway. My subconscious had agreed to all of this, just to be clear!) But within a couple of minutes I had a new problem - the clay figure hadn’t been too sturdy to begin with, and it was getting steadily less stable. The outstretched arms slowly began to droop downwards, lowering my own arms. It gradually started to slouch forwards, and I felt myself lean forwards too, powerless to stop my back from arching to match the voodoo model.

By the time Fuckus Hawkus returned, the clay was lying flat on the tray, and I was slumped bonelessly on the floor, ass in the air, limbs splayed out, face pressed into the carpet. Chuckling, he came over and grabbed me, lifting me onto the couch and lying me flat across it.

“The rest of you can stay motionless, controlled by the clay,” he said in his hypno-voice, “but your mouth and voice are released.”

“Fuck you,” I said immediately, provoking more laughter.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, as he began to roll my shirt up. “Be nice, or I’ll take your mouth away again. I only gave it back so I could hear your delighted noises while I have my way with you...”

And he proceeded to undress my limp body and have his way with me while I lay paralysed. Two big plus points here: being helpless is a huge turn-on, as we’ve long since established; and because I couldn’t move, he had to do all the work. Ha!

***

“This must have taken some hunting for, I’m very impressed,” Richard chuckled.

It was almost the end of Christmas Day, and having given each other proper presents that morning, we were doing one last silly little extra gift each before bed. Both of us were sitting cross-legged on the carpet, facing each other, in front of our small but beautifully-decorated (if I do say so myself) Christmas tree. He’d just unwrapped his - a metal tin decorated to look like the TARDIS from Doctor Who.

“Found it on eBay,” I grinned. “Apparently it used to contain VHS tapes of old episodes, but the seller had been using it as a cookie jar.”

“That’s what I plan to use it for! It’d make a great biscuit tin, you could fit loads in here...”

Setting down the tin almost reverentially, he then gave me my present. Removing the frankly absurdly-wrapped paper (he wraps presents like they’re parcels, it’s demented), I found a fancy black box inside, the kind that might contain an expensive necklace.

I raised an eyebrow. “Jewellery? Rich, these were supposed to be dumb fun things, not, like, super generous things...”

“Oh, it’s not jewellery! No, I was hunting around for a box to put the actual gift in, and my aunt let me use that.” He was starting to get that old mischievous smile of his as he urged me, “Go on then, open it...”

“Alright, alright!” I opened the box.

Inside was a dog collar. A simple design, no frills - no decorations or studs or spikes or anything. Just a black leather strap, with a silver buckle, four holes to adjust the tightness, and a little silver loop (presumably to attach a name tag or a leash).

“What?” I laughed, bewildered. “Why would you get me this? We don’t have a dog. We won’t have a dog, because you’re scared of them, remember?” I prodded his leg with my big toe teasingly.

He just smiled wickedly. “This isn’t for a dog, AJ. It’s for you.”

“What?” I said again, looking down at the collar as I fumbled with the buckle. “Why would I wear this?”

“Why, to show how much of a submissive plaything you are, of course.”

Shaking my head exasperatedly, I shifted round so I was at a right-angle from him. “OK, Mister, that’s not gonna happen. I mean, I really do enjoy playing that role when we’re fooling around with hypnosis, being forced to be subby and obedient. I’ll admit that much.” I tried to brush the hair away from my neck, and he leaned forwards and held up my hair for me. “But there’s no way I would ever wear a collar!”

“Really?” he smirked, watching as I coiled the leather strap around my neck. “Not even when we’re doing hypnosis stuff?” As I struggled to buckle it, unable to see it below my chin, he let my hair drop and did up the buckle himself.

“No, not a chance!” I felt around my neck, adjusting the collar into the most comfortable position. It fit perfectly - not tight enough to restrict my breathing, but not so loose that it’d jangle around and annoy me. “I’m sorry, dude, I don’t want to reject a Christmas present... but come on, you had to realise I wouldn’t respond positively to this!”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “At least the proper presents went down well, eh?”

“They did, they did! And those are the ones you wanna get right,” I remarked, my fingers still unconsciously fiddling with the buckle on the collar.

For those of you wondering, it was about ten minutes later - as we were getting ready for bed - that he let me realise. After a good minute of verbal abuse from me, he yeeted my brain into the Spiral Seas and brought back my memories of the earlier trance, where he’d told me what the gift was, to react negatively to it, and to put it on without realising. My subconscious liked this plan, because my subconscious is a dirty traitor.

Anyway, once I got over the embarrassment and got all the snark out of my system, we had a very festive fuck. I kept the collar on. Merry Christmas!

***

“And now, maybe you even realise that you’ve been counting down, going deeper down, pulling yourself back into trance... Maybe you’re finally aware of how easy it still is for me to control and manipulate you, to make you follow and obey without even knowing about it... But you can’t stop it. You know you’re gonna speak again, and then you’ll be back in trance, back under my spell. My perfect plaything, completely under my power...”

“Whuh... I’m not... I’m... your pluh-aything... one...”

“Say that last number, and drop into your last trance of this year...”

“Zero.”

I slumped forwards bonelessly, and felt him catch me and hold me in his arms. As he lowered me onto the couch, his lips pressed softly against my forehead.

“Happy new year, Alyssa. I promise to make it at least as good as the last...”