He knew he said something silly a moment ago, something topical, and purely for a goof. He knew the kind of reaction he wanted to elicit around social friends and people he could trust, especially from the woman to his left. He knew many things, until from the left
quick fingers snapped in-front of his face. And just like that, suddenly his knowledge was divided.
What he knew, and what he thought he knew abruptly became halved, parsed between a submerging consciousness and an emerging subconsciousness. Other patrons of the restaurant thought nothing of the group standing right outside of it, talking amongst themselves, until the silence of the moment rang out, aftershocks of the a crisp snap gaining everyone's attention, including the man who'd come face-to-face with it. All had a front row seat to see one element after another escape his notice. Cars passing by, horns honking and sirens wailing in the distance, footsteps from different directions, nothing registered on his face. His own breathing became more audible than all the other sounds combined, nearly everyone around him breathing the same breath, breathlessly waiting for whatever might come next.
Words, gestures, subliminal suggestions, echoes of past interactions he treasured more than most things echoed from his forgotten-yet-remembered past. All of it started slowly flowing back into his mind, a signal via the snap, and the grinning face of the woman who signaled the abrupt change. Red lips helplessly curled into a pleased smile more and more, knowing exactly what was resurfacing in him. Subtle moments of programming, suggestions that gained force and weight if ever reiterated, consistent conditioning that made him happy to be conditioned. Round after round of softly garnered control he was blissfully unaware of, but consciously knowing he was tethered to this control by her will and his own.
Perhaps more than anything, the woman to his left knew, loved an unplanned, jokingly-provoked snap of her fingers silenced the world for lost man, and the small audience that understood the state he was left in, lost in the act itself. It occurred to her how they were all waiting for her. All understanding eyes were on the hypnotist and her subject, as they stared at each other. It amused her how susceptible the group was, utterly captivated, nearly as amusing as watching gentle facial reactions hint at the memories of being deeper than he was at that moment, wordlessly, thoughtlessly asking, pleading to go deeper. Memories turned into possibilities, hoping she'd look at him a certain way, make her lips form shapes to audibly make his react automatically with claims of submission. He hoped for a wave of her hand, another fingersnap, something that gave him an excuse to lower his eyelids.
Of their own volition, they started to flutter and sink down on their own, slipping deeper into all the ways she could reassert her will, hoping beyond hope for something to happen as eternity-long seconds passed.
The sound of a soft, intentional throat-clearing brought him back from the brink, surprised that he even noticed it, but not so surprised at its effect given the origin. The smile across her red lips was clear as the breaths he took. He heard it in the throaty sound that nearly turned into a chuckle, felt it deep inside before fluttering eyes set about opening to see her sparkling ones complimenting wickedly curling lips. It made him smile inside and out how he sensed her happiness so easily, and that he could fulfill his programming to be pleasing.
He felt the remnants of trance still in him, his will tugging, pulling at the thread to let himself unravel again, already missing where he almost took himself. A silent chuckle erupted from him unexpectedly, nearly forgetting there were people outside of his world. Clarity confirmed only his existence and the smiling dominant next to him, while the blur of others was just above the line of forgetfulness. The chuckle gained faint volume, remembering that of the whole group that met to speak about hypnosis, he was the least involved amongst them. But at that moment, maybe no one understood the depths better than he did, reveling in the experience, contributing to the validity in real time.
The only reason his eyes didn't shut again was part of the reason she was smiling - a thumb and middle finger rubbing together, slow and gleefully, like the hands of a scheming villainess. Eyes on the verge of glassy focuses intensely there, waiting for a signal of her being the driving force toward the place he was desperate for. The fingers rubbed back and forth, and in slow circles. Eyes widened a little as the circles sped, following the fingers as they moved in butterfly patterns across his vision. It was somehow no issue for his concentration for him to follow everything and keep track of the speed of the circles, slowing more and more, the hand moving less and less. And suddenly, both stopped, preparing to do what his body was already needy and primed for.
It didn't occur to him what position his head was until a sound made it clear.
A beautiful voice rang in his ear, his head turned to the side. Red lips didn't have to lean forward much for clear access to his ear, to give the unfair command that produced a reactive whimper of denial. As everything regained life and significance around him, everyone seemed to be all smiles and approval for the silent show put on in the most unexpected of places. He tried to keep from blushing as the almost snapping hand played with his hair.
She spoke a little about the topics and on his behalf; he thanked her with a smile, hoping the submissive sound uttered spoke volumes. After some time, they all finally started to depart for the night, and he kept close to his partner. Their walk was filled with understood silence. He loved knowing how in-sync they often were, how nothing really needed to be said; a benefit or byproduct of the speechlessness she created by rendering deep senselessness. Getting close to their next destination, the thought of saying something silly about trance crossed his thoughts again, wondering if it would prompt another reason for her to snap again.
Whether it was his body language, or just being inseparably in-sync, something must've given him away. As he opened his mouth to try to speak
made his words, thoughts, and the ability to articulate them gently ceased, slowed to stillness. The stopping power of her fingers was even stronger than before, probably because they were alone, a fact that kept escaping him every time she used it, to his elation. His mouth hung open, stuck that way until fingers moved under his chin to graciously shut it for him. The fingers trailed up his chin, long nails running up sensitive lips, until pulling back so he could see the thumb and middle finger reconnect.
He knew for sure then how he'd be going to a depth even he couldn't speak about, still but pleading with his very essence for it to happen. Held just above his eye level, in line with the brain he just held onto for her keeping. Catching sight of her lips opening to say something, he waited for any sweet, sassy, or subtle command she would give. It looked like she had a lot to say, until they quickly closed to a knowing, domineering smile. For him, it was a perfect foreword to what she wordlessly had to tell him.
No words are even needed at this point.
Just a snap.