“Are you really gonna sit there and watch me the whole time?” Victoria chuckled, glancing over her shoulder.

Sam pretended to think for a moment, then answered decisively, “Yup.” They arched an eyebrow and said in a slightly dangerous tone, “Are you saying I’m not allowed to admire my pet...?”

Blushing, Vicky hurriedly turned back to the stove. “No, I - I didn’t say that, Master,” she giggled. “Of course you do, y’know, just - you want a nice dinner, right? Your eyes on me are very distracting...”

“Oh dear,” they said with deeply insincere sympathy. “How difficult for you. I feel so bad for you and your struggle, sweetie.”

The submissive shook her head exasperatedly, still facing away so her owner couldn’t see her broad grin. “Fine. If you want to watch me stir sauce for twenty minutes, be my guest, Master.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

It was true, to be fair. It was the holidays, Sam had all their lesson planning done, and they’d finished the book they were reading. They had literally nothing better to do than sit in the corner of the kitchen staring at their flustered fiancé, who wore nothing but an apron and a dildo tied inside her. Sam relished the tableau of her bare butt, the cotton rope of her harness just beneath her apron string, and the tattoo marking their ownership of her. How could they not ogle her when she was dressed like this?

(Of course, it was Sam who had dressed her like this in the first place, given that she wasn’t permitted to dress herself. But that was beside the point.)

The nearly-naked chef had been busily arranging the various components of their dinner a few minutes ago, but, true to her word, she was now simply standing at the stove stirring sauce in a large pot. “Sure you’re not bored?” she asked with a wry grin.

“Nope,” Sam smiled back. “Well, I mean, I was already. If it’s a choice between watching my nude housewifepet make marinara sauce, or watching some random episode of The Simpsons for the three hundredth time, I’ll take option A.”

“It’s actually pomodoro sauce, but I take your point!”

“Oh, I do beg your pardon, chef.” After a pause, she asked, “Do you really have to stir it for twenty minutes?”

“Usually, yeah.”

“Wow. That must take a lot of patience. Surprised you don’t get bored yourself.”

Vicky shrugged, staring idly into the pot. “I dunno, I find it kinda relaxing. Hypnotic, even. I guess I usually enter a kind of trance when I’m doing it, and the time just seems to fly by. If I didn’t have better agency I’d probably end up on the floor with this all over me, but as it is I can just stand and watch and not really think about anything else.”

“Hmm.” Sam found their eyes had wandered up from their girlfriend’s apple-cheeked ass to her hand circling above the pot, the wooden spoon clutched in her fist scything through the viscous sauce. “I get that...”

“Yeah, it’s really easy to just lose yourself in it, huh? To just watch the spoon spiral round and round and round, and just switch off. It’s captivating, isn’t it?”

“Mm-hm...”

“You can just watch, and relax, and disconnect. You don’t need to worry about anything, because I’m taking care of everything for you like a good housepetwife. You can do what you want, and what you want is to watch me stir, and get drawn in by the smooth swirling circles, and get completely lost in the sauce...”

“Mmm...”

Victoria kept talking, but Sam was in no condition to consciously listen any more. Nor were they able to register their partner’s wicked smile in their peripheral vision. Their attention was held by her hand as firmly as it held the spoon, its continual, consistent revolutions all that occupied their empty mind. They didn’t even notice when they started chanting, “I love being hypnotised.” The words passed their lips over and over again, making no impression on their neutralised consciousness, as they watched her hand move around and around...

“I love being hypnotised. I love being hypnotised. I love being hypnotised. I love being hypnotised. I love being hyp-”

“Hey, Sam? You good?”

Blinking in momentary confusion, they met Vicky’s eyes. “Mm? Yeah, I’m fine. Just, y’know, watching and enjoying my precious pet.” They grinned, enjoying the way her cheeks reddened at the term of endearment.

“Ah, good,” she sniggered. “Just, for a moment there you looked like you’d gotten lost in the sauce.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped, their posture slouching, their back coming to rest against the wall behind them. They stared blankly at their fiancé, once again enraptured by the sight of her stirring hand.

Moments later, prompted by Victoria, they began to intone a different phrase. “I am a mindless Master. I am a mindless Master. I am a mindless Master. I am a mindless Master. I am a mindless Master. I am a mindless -”

“Master?”

Jerking awake again, they raised their eyebrows at their submissive. “Yes, love?”

“You said you were watching and enjoying,” Vicky grinned, gesturing to her own scantily-clad body with one hand while the other continued to stir. “I take it you like what you see?”

“Oh, very much,” Sam chuckled. “Excellent choice of clothing, I must say. Shows you off nicely.”

Their slave snickered. “Why, thank you. I guess when I’m dressed so saucily, it’s hard for you not to get lost in the sauce.”

Slipping back into trance again, the dominant’s gaze remained fixated on their fiancé’s figure this time, tracing lazily over her curves. The image of Vicky’s bare back and butt filled their brain, remaining all that they could see even as they pulled their sweater off over their head. Standing up and discarding their pants too, they sat back down, now wearing only a set of lacey black underwear, and reached into the bulging panties as they chanted, “My fiancé’s so entrancing. My fiancé’s so entrancing. My fiancé’s so entrancing...”

“What’s that, sorry?”

“Oh, nothing,” Sam smirked, once again failing to notice the passage of time from their trance. “I’m just really enjoying the show.”

“That’s pretty clear,” she guffawed.

Sam glanced down, the sight of their bra and panties, and the strap-on protruding from the latter, seeming perfectly normal to them. Why wouldn’t it? After all, they’d been dressed like this all along. “What can I say?” they shrugged, running their fingers along their hypno-dick. “I’m bored, and my bride-to-be is beautiful. Can you blame me for spending my evening jerking off to the sight of her?”

“I didn’t say I minded,” she remarked with a titter.

They gave her a lewd grin, their thumb stroking back and forth over the tip of their realistic dildo. “Gotta say, it’s a struggle to just stay over here and watch you. I’m feeling the urge to go over there, and bend you over the counter. After all, your one available orifice is, in fact, very available right now...”

“Ahhh...” Vicky squirmed, deliberately turning her back on her Master. “W-well, as nice as that sounds, I’m still cooking... If we stop f-for any length of time, the sauce won’t be as g-good...”

“I don’t mind.”

“But I want it to be perfect...”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Sam said, their voice low with lust, almost growling, as they continued to caress their appendage and revel in the hypnotically-induced sensations. “And it’s my decision, isn’t it? If I wanna go over there and fuck my sexy slave’s asshole, I’m gonna, regardless of what you’re doing. Because you belong to me, don’t you, pet...?”

She stared at them, thunderstruck, but still stirring the sauce all the while. “Y-yes, Master,” she stammered. “B-but, hey, you should be c-careful - because what if you get l-lost in the sauce?”

Slouching back again, Sam continued to mindlessly masturbate, soon taking up yet another mantra fed to her by her entrancing fiancé. “Let her cook, while I stroke my cock. Let her cook, while I stroke my cock. Let her cook, while I stroke my cock...”

That solitary thought swirled around their brain like the sauce, as their digits worked what felt like tender foreskin, bringing them to the brink - and keeping them there, as they watched their personal chef finish preparing their meal. Their hooded gaze, their sprawled, manspreading posture, and their low voice grunting out the repeated phrase, made them somewhat resemble a Neanderthal, and their speech was only slightly more lucid.

“Let her cook, while I stroke my cock. Let her cook, while I stroke my cock. Let her cook, while I stroke my cock. Let her cook, while I stroke my cock...”

“Dinner is served!” Victoria announced, setting down two plates on the table next to them.

An instant later Sam cried out and convulsed, as they came both into their hand and out of trance. Gasping and sweaty, they relinquished their dick and stared up at her. “Already?” they panted.

She shrugged, a glint in her eyes. “I guess time flies.”

“Ohh... you bitch,” they spluttered, their memories of the last half-hour flooding back with that last trigger phrase.

“Hey, I was just trying to make things more entertaining,” she grinned, sitting down on the opposite side of the table. “For both of us.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” Sam said drily. Glancing down at their plateful of pasta, immersed in rich, enticing pomodoro sauce, they licked their lips eagerly.

“Yay,” their partner beamed, picking up her cutlery.

“Oh, but if you think for one moment you’re eating at the table with me after that stunt, you’re outta your mind,” the dominant laughed. “Your bipedal privileges are very much revoked, love, ’til I say otherwise.”

“Ah, crap,” Vicky muttered, grinning resignedly even as she obediently slid off her chair and fell onto all fours, her palms slapping down on the linoleum.

With a broad, satisfied smile, Sam picked up her plate and lowered it beneath the table for Vicky to take it, leaving the cutlery behind. “Oh, and the ‘bending you over and buttfucking you’ thing? That’s definitely still happening.”

“I figured,” the housewifepet sighed, smirking up at them before setting her food down on the floor and burying her face in it.

Grinning, Sam casually planted their right foot on Vicky’s back, resting it there as they picked up a spoon and began to eat. As they’d expected, it was absolutely delicious - particularly the pomodoro. In fact, they felt dangerously close to getting lost in the sauce again!