Of course, she knew mistress's hands were hypnotic. There was a poetry to the way they danced in her view - casting their spell without mistress ever even uttering a word. A magnetism to the way they moved over her, around her, IN her- all of it giving a simple command. 

"You're mine. Focus here".

And she found that was all she COULD do.

But mistress could make anything hypnotic. 

And today she had made HER hands hypnotic too.

Somewhere, her mistress was speaking -giving her instructions her future self would definitely follow and her current self would be unaware of.

But she wasn't listening - not this part of her. She was too focused on her hands.

She studied her palms-first the big lines, then the swirls and patterns that she'd never noticed before. There was something so fascinating about them. Something that drew her in.

Her mind was a microscope. It let her be small- small enough to fall into the gentle paths she followed across her skin. She followed up and down and around and around.

Eventually, a word and a gentle touch on her shoulder snapped her out of her reverie.

When she thought back on what had happened, she could only remember gettingl ost in the whorls.