If she didn’t know better, Avril would have said she found the blank page hypnotic. It felt like she’d been staring at it for days.

Watching the cursor blink on and off. Not a thought in her head about what words she should write.

It hadn’t always been this bad, had it? She’d wanted to be a novelist forever. She’d had so many false starts. It always came down to this: sitting here staring at the blank page. You’d think, with her kink for being hypnotized, for staring blankly as her mind was paralyzed, this would be her favourite part. But wanting to write and not being able to was the worst form of torture.

It didn’t help she’d been up so late last night, but it had been worth it. Rose had hypnotized her so deeply again—it felt like she went deeper every time—and given her an amazing suggestion: that whenever Avril was close to orgasm, she would feel all her arousal flow into Rose, and instead of getting off she’d have to get her girlfriend off instead. It had been so intense, getting right up to the edge and then feeling the helpless compulsion flow from her brain down to her cunt, stealing her release. Even as she dripped and moaned and squirmed, she could only slither between her lover’s legs, her entire focus suddenly and completely on Rose’s pleasure, abandoning her own.

Avril was almost rubbing herself over her panties before she realized this reminiscing was just another form of procrastination, and the smile drained from her face. She shook her head and muttered, frustrated with herself. It would probably help if she added getting dressed to her morning ritual: get up while Rose was still sleeping, make coffee, sit down, start writing. But she was trying to write in the oversized tank top and underwear she wore to bed, and the association with Rose, the eager, imaginative partner who wanted to fulfill all her kinky fantasies, was not conducive to focus.

Focus. If only Avril could focus. She watched the cursor blink and imagined Rose telling her to do that, telling her she couldn’t look away, telling her to let the soft, steady blinking lull her into trance, where her mind was always so open and malleable…

But this was just making Avril horny, it wasn’t helping her write. 

Maybe she should get Rose to hypnotize her into writing. It felt a bit like cheating, though. If that worked, was she really a writer at all? Or just an extension of Rose’s will? Ugh. Even thinking phrases like that filled Avril’s head with erotic ideas. But this was supposed to be Serious Writing Time, and she couldn’t reach the art she knew was inside her, let alone type it out, with one hand always between her legs, fantasizing about her sexy, hypnotic girlfriend.

She’d just felt blocked for so long. Avril had gotten desperate enough to ask Rose for help before, but Rose always said it felt a little too close to doing therapy for her comfort. She was a skilled hypnotist, but just in the realm of sexy recreation. Trying to use hypnosis to actually change Avril’s behaviour so she could focus on writing, that just seemed like something an actual professional should do. 

Avril furrowed her brow while she watched the cursor and the blank, blank page surrounding it. So why don’t I just hire a professional, already?

But her pussy, uncomfortably sensitive as her underwear shifted over her skin, reminded her why: she had a hypnosis fetish. How could she go to a professional therapist, who might use hypnosis to actually help her, if she knew she was going to cum on their couch in the first fifteen minutes? And the one person who liked it just fine when hypnosis made Avril cum was the one person who couldn’t hypnotize her to write. 

It was a perfect Catch-22, ironic because reading Joseph Heller’s classic novel in high school was among the things that inspired her to become a writer. She’d written lots of short stories over the years—in fact, it was a piece of fetish erotica she’d shared on a message board that had first connected her with Rose, which felt like the biggest success Avril’s writing had ever brought her. But what she’d always really wanted was to be a novelist, like her heroes. People like Toni Morrison and Ursula K. Le Guin: they were all so prolific, and if they could see her sitting here in her underwear for the millionth unproductive morning in her life, she could only imagine what they’d think.

They’d think, “That girl looks like she was well fucked last night.” Avril smiled. And they’d be right. God, Rose was such an amazing lover, she—

But then Avril realized what her brain was doing, and the smile vanished from her face again. She narrowed her eyes at the blinking cursor. No. They’d just think, “That girl is fucked.”

Twenty minutes later, Avril’s anxiety reached its peak, because she heard Rose’s alarm go off in the bedroom and knew her girlfriend would soon be up and about and eager for Avril’s attention. It made Avril feel like such a selfish, shitty person, but she resented Rose’s presence at times like this, and the excuse it gave her to ultimately give up on her writing and get on with real life. That reflex made Avril feel guilty; after all, it was Rose’s home, too. Avril had chosen to move in with her—chosen it eagerly, because she loved Rose and wanted to be with her all the time—and yet.

It felt like, if only Rose wasn’t there, Avril could get some writing done. But that thought, commonly repeated, just made her scoff at herself: she’d only been with Rose for a year, and it’s not like she’d been pouring out novels before that. No, Avril knew the problem was inside her and Rose was just a convenient target for her frustration. Before Rose came along, it had probably been not having the right light coming in through the windows in the morning, or not being caffeinated enough, or being too caffeinated.

Rose knocked softly on the sliding door of the apartment’s “flex space”—a partitioned rectangle that let the landlords advertise the apartment as 1 bedroom *plus*—which Avril had turned into a writing nook. Avril sighed, hating the way her shoulders seemed to tighten up automatically when Rose did this, the way it signaled the end of Avril’s morning writing time, and just put the period at the end of *One more day you didn’t write.*

Rose slid the door open and put her hands gently on those hunched, stiff shoulders, and Avril felt a warm wave of relaxation flow through her body. She exhaled with a sigh that was almost a whimper. Rose cooed to her, “Good morning, my love. How was it today?” 

Avril laid her head back against Rose as her girlfriend stepped closer and encircled Avril in her arms. She knew she didn’t need to answer. Rose could see the blank page on her screen and knew perfectly well what it meant. Rose put one of her warm hands gently on the delicate skin of Avril’s throat. Avril’s eyes fluttered closed, a feeing of intense peace building inside her body. She felt gratitude for the way her lover could soothe her.

“It’s ok, love; you’re doing all the right things. I’m so proud of you for trying.” Avril let herself melt into Rose’s praise and soft touch and felt a tear work its way loose from her eye. Soon her cheeks were wet, and she was so grateful to Rose for providing this release. Her frustration had diminished to a tiny speck in the distance.

Then Rose slipped her hands down to the front of Avril’s loose tank top and she started to stroke and squeeze Avril’s nipples. Avril slumped heavily in her chair, her head sprawling against Rose’s bosom, and she purred. Rose always knew just how to touch her. Rose always knew just what she needed.

“Thank you,” Avril whispered, trying to stir back towards her keyboard, “but I should…”

Rose cut her off by pinching both her nipples at once, and the jolt of pleasure made Avril’s mind blank. 

“Oh, babe. You’re always so hard on yourself. Don’t worry about that now, sweetie. Don’t worry. Just let me take care of you. It’s time to let me take care of you, love.”

Avril’s eyelids fluttered, and she tossed her head against her girlfriend’s soft skin as though she were dreaming.

“You’ll take care… ‘mmmee.”

“That’s right, love. Of course I will. Come along, now,” Rose said, taking Avril’s hands, which had settled in her lap, and coaxing her out of the chair.

Avril didn’t really remember how they’d gotten to the bedroom, but it didn’t matter. Her naked body was flooded by pleasure and warmth and love, and as she nestled between Rose’s thighs and licked her girlfriend’s pussy, all the stress and worry carried by the blank page evaporated.

Rose stroked Avril’s hair and moaned, pressing her pelvis forward so Avril’s mouth could more easily reach the right spots. Rose felt a tremble travel through her legs and knew she was going to cum. Her grip on Avril’s hair tightened, and she rubbed her cunt against Avril’s face.

“Ohhh, sweetie… fuck, that’s so good,” Rose mumbled, wanting to coax her obedient hypnotized lover but hardly able to think of the words. “That’s just right, you’re doing it just… I need… Going to… make me…

“Oh, FUCK!” Rose cried, locking her legs around Avril’s head, gripping her lover’s hair tightly as the orgasm poured through her.

Avril, deep under her lover’s spell, was so in tune with Rose’s pleasure she almost came herself. The pressure of Rose’s thighs and hands clasping her head, blocking out everything but the flesh she existed only to worship… it felt so perfect. After Rose came down from her orgasm, Avril knew she would be petted and praised, but even before that happened, she glowed. She’d pleased Rose. Her earlier worries had dissolved completely.

Avril was exactly where she belonged. The contentment was so deep and perfect.

She crawled up Rose’s body until her head rested on Rose’s chest, and her lover’s heartbeat and hypnotic voice washed over her. “You’re exactly where you belong, my love,” Rose whispered, stroking Avril’s hair. Avril touched herself lazily and repeated Rose’s words to herself, sinking deeper into the pliant hypnotic place where Rose wanted her.

“You did so, so well,” Rose continued, “you please me so much. And that’s all you need, love. That’s all you need.”

“All I need…” Avril murmured sleepily, “mmm… please you…”

“That’s right, sweetheart. No other worries. No other cares. No other desire or ambition. Just please me, my love. Just be mine.”

“Just please you, m’love… just yours…” Avril’s voice broke a little as a bubble of emotion welled up inside her. She wanted so badly to just belong to Rose. To just be hers. Not to worry, not to strive. To just belong.

“You’re all mine, love,” Rose reassured her, kissing the top of her head. “All mine. And you always will be.”

Pleasure fizzled up through Avril’s body. “Mmm… ohh. I… always will be. All yours.”

“Nothing else matters, my love. All mine. Only mine.”

“Only… yours. Nnn… nothing. Nothing else matters.”

Rose kissed her again and held her tight.

“That’s right. Good girl.”

The next morning, Avril stared at the blank page. It felt like she’d been staring at it for days. If she didn’t know better, Avril would have said she found the blank page hypnotic.

She watched the cursor blink on and off. Not a thought in her head about what words she should write.

Avril heard Rose moving around in the other room as she slowly woke up. Avril felt a thrill, knowing pretty soon her lover would come up behind her, drape her arms around her body, squeeze her possessively, and coax her back into bed.

Back in their bed, Avril could please Rose. Could let all her pleasure flow into her lover, where it belonged. Rose deserved all of Avril’s pleasure, after all. Avril was so grateful to Rose for owning her. For giving her a place where she didn’t have to worry. She didn’t have to write. Where she could just belong.

Thoughts of Rose flooded her mind. The way her eyes and face both lit up when Avril made her smile. Her sexy body that Avril craved helplessly. She laughed at herself, realizing she was masturbating at her desk just thinking about Rose. Kissing and touching her. Kneeling between her legs.

Where she belonged.

Worshipping Rose.

Nothing else mattered.