“Hey, could you help me with something in the back?”

It was well after noon, and I was reading a new science fiction novel about seven men trying to fight their way off a mutant cruise ship. It was shlock, but it was fun schlock. Mallory leaned right over the counter, pushing the book out of my vision, and placing herself firmly in the middle of it.

We hadn't hung out much all day, but Dawn had finally left for her new batch of meetings, and we had finished all the cleaning from the day before. The shop was finally back in working shape.

Mallory, meanwhile, was in gorgeous shape, but that was nothing new. Her outfit had taken a cue from Lori's with the too-tight tee shirt, though with her more substantial breasts and the long cut-open v  neckline, there was a lot more to appreciate. Her high-heeled sandals had clopped along the wooden floors all day, calling my eyes to watch her tiny denim skirt as she bent over. As she bent over the counter, her fingers slid up my arm and gently squeezed my bicep.

Of course, as usual, even with as obvious as she was being, I wasn't catching up.

“Oh, did the new shipment get here?” I looked down at the calendar. “I didn’t think it was supposed to get here until next Tuesday.”

“Yeah, it’s something like that.” Her hand clasped around mine. “Lori, could you take over the register for like ten minutes?”

Lori nodded at her booth, smiling slyly at Mallory. “Sure thing.”

I still faltered. “But, what is it that’s back there? Is there a customer? Because if it’s a customer—”

“God, you’re dense,” said Lori, laughing. “Look at how she looks at you. What do you think she wants?”

I looked again at Mallory. She was tugging at the tiny bra strap beneath her shirt, giving me a completely unrestricted view of the tight top beneath and the shiny, buoyant globes of flesh that were waiting just underneath. Her dark eyes burned with desire, one lip tugged underneath her perfectly white teeth. Her hips wiggled slowly in that tight, sculpted skirt, thighs mincing together down to her knees.

“Oh,” I said, feeling myself pulled along by Mallory.

Soon, just as she wanted, we were in the back room. It was a storage space, basically. Shelves surrounded us, some of the only ones in the entire store not buried under the weight of books. Instead, it was office supplies and stands for ads, that sort of thing.

“I don’t know what’s come over me,” she said, clearly looking a little confused. “I just…I find you very attractive.”

“Oh.”

She pushed me against the wall, sliding one leg up mine. Her lips came up to my neck and then my chin, kissing softly. “I know we said we’d see each other tonight, but I couldn’t wait. I find you very attractive,” she said again.

Her voice, I noticed, took on just the slightest little monotone as she said that. I kissed her deep, loving the feel of her lips on mine. Her tongue pressed into my mouth, and I gripped her body hard. Her spine thrummed with need, and my cock was quickly getting hard.

“I think you’re absolutely beautiful, Mallory.”

She smiled, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. You’re just lucky I’m absolutely desperate to suck your cock.”

Okay. There that was again. The same slight monotone. And the same words I had said to her the night before. Was this really happening? Was I really able to hold that kind of power over her?

There was only one way to find out…and I was eager to know for sure.

“Yeah, do it,” I said, urging her on. “Suck me off.”

She didn't need to be told twice. Soon, she was on her knees and my pants were down around my ankles. She slipped her lips over the head of my turgid cock and moaned with excitement.

Her mouth was just as perfect as the night before, if not even better. Last night, her affection had been tinged with a sense of wild, drunken exploration and fun. But this night, she asserted herself like a lover, taking her time with her tongue running up and down over my length, and moaning with true aroused longing as my cock hardened even more in her mouth.

“God, you're so good,” I moaned. “You're an amazing cocksucker.”

“Mmmhmm,” she moaned right back.

Precum spurted down her throat. Her moaning only increased, and once again, her fingers shifted up her skirt and she played with her clit while sliding her beautiful mouth back and forth over my shaft. My hands worked into her hair, and I was in heaven. Nothing had felt so good. I had gone from zero attention from women, ever, to getting two blowjobs in less than twelve hours from one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I felt blessed. Maybe I was.

“Oh babe.” My orgasm approached fast and sudden. I had so little control, and little desire to hold it in. I had to see what happened when my cum touched her mouth again. “You have to...I'm gonna cum. Swallow it down. You have to swallow it. It'll be incredible.”

She moaned encouragingly, taking me down with happy gusto. My load erupted in thick, heavy ropes, flooding her mouth and throat. She gulped and swallowed, her throat working hard to take everything I gave her. Her fingers between her legs moved faster, and I watched her body shudder through an orgasm of her own, her thighs clenching together around her hand.

When the last pulse left me, she stayed on her knees, mouth still loosely wrapped around the head of my softening cock. Immediately, I could feel her body language shift from worked-up lover to tranced beauty. Once again, as she knelt there with my cum cutely arranged on her lips and chin, her eyes had gone all white and blank. Just like the night before. The color drained out of them as smoothly as ink running off wet glass.

My heart hammered. This was real. This was actually, undeniably real.

Her jaw went slack, releasing my cock, and she settled back on her heels. A thin line of cum connected her bottom lip to the tip of my dick before it broke and landed on her chin. She didn't wipe it away. She didn't move at all, except for the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest beneath that tight shirt. My heart pounced up and down in my chest. I couldn’t believe it.

“Mallory, can you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

I gulped. Her voice was full of warmth, peace, and vibrancy. She seemed completely at ease, totally at peace.

All throughout the day, I had daydreamed of this. In my head now, I had a full script of ideas I wanted to instill into her gorgeous head.

“You want to fuck me.”

She bit her lip. “I want to fuck you.”

“You’re turned on by me.”

“I’m turned on by you.”

“You find me incredibly attractive.”

“I find you incredibly attractive.”

“You want to go out with me.”

“I want to go with you.”

“You want to be my girlfriend.”

“I want…”

My cock pulsed with need, more blood flowing into it again. Quickly, I was becoming hard once more. I wanted her, so badly. I wanted to own her. I wanted to flood her fertile body with my cum. Feeling inspired, I took her hand—which had dropped to the floor—and slid her fingers up against her clit again. It only took a few gentle circles before she was pleasuring herself on her own, perfectly tranced. Hypnotized by my cum to give herself orgasmic pleasure.

She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.

Her dark hair had come half-loose from its ponytail, thick waves of it falling across one shoulder and down over the swell of her breast. The fluorescent storage room light caught the shine of it, blue-black and glossy, and made her look like something painted rather than real. Her skin was warm brown and smooth, a faint flush working its way up from her chest to her throat and into her cheeks. Her lips were parted, soft and full and still faintly wet, the lower one curved down just slightly with the weight of her breathing.

And of course, her eyes were completely white.

Not rolled back. Not frightened or pained. Just white, like two pearls set into her face, still and luminous and utterly empty of anything except the deep, warm haze my cum had put into her. Beneath those blank eyes, her expression was one of total peace. Her jaw hung loose and her brow was smooth, every last trace of tension gone from her face. She looked the way people look in the deepest possible sleep, except that she was upright on her knees and her hips were moving.

Her hand worked between her thighs in a slow, steady rhythm. The denim of her skirt had ridden up completely, bunched at her waist, and her fingers moved against herself with a kind of dreamy, automatic sureness, like her body knew exactly what it needed and was simply taking it. Every few seconds her thighs would press inward around her hand, a small involuntary clench, and then relax again. Her breathing came in long, measured pulls through that open mouth, each exhale carrying the faintest sound, barely a sound at all, more like the suggestion of one.

Her shirt had shifted during everything, and one side of it had slipped down far enough that the full upper curve of her breast was visible, the dark edge of her bra pushed aside. The flesh there was impossibly smooth. Her nipples were hard against the thin fabric, two dark points, and her chest rose and fell with those slow breaths in a way that made the whole front of her look alive and restless even as the rest of her stayed perfectly, eerily still.

She wasn't performing. That was the thing that got to me most, standing over her with my cock thick and aching and my hands not quite knowing where to land. There was no audience in her head anymore. There was no self-consciousness, no calculation, no awareness of how she looked or what she was doing. She had gone somewhere very far inside herself, somewhere quiet and warm and completely without edges, and whatever was left kneeling on the floor of that storage room was just the body. Just Mallory's extraordinary, beautiful body, doing what it had been told to do, and finding in the doing of it a pleasure so complete that her face had gone soft with it.

My cock was fully hard again. I could feel my pulse in it.

I watched the slow drag of her fingers and the small, helpless movements of her hips answering them, and something settled into my chest that wasn't just lust, though it was that too, undeniably, hotly. It was something heavier. Something that felt permanent.

I had put her here. With my cum, with my words, with something I still couldn't name or explain or trace back to any origin. I had reached into this woman—this gorgeous, sharp, capable woman who had laughed at me the night before and called me dense and poured bourbon down my throat like she was doing me a favor—and I had rearranged something fundamental in her. She was still Mallory.

But she was becoming something more. Something totally mine.

“You trust me completely.”

She smiled, somewhat relieved. “I trust you completely.”

“You know I want what’s best for you.”

“I know you want what’s best for me.”

“I want to be your boyfriend.”

“You want to be my boyfriend.” Her voice was tinged with heavy, heated arousal now.
“You want to be my girlfriend.”

“I want to be your girlfriend.”

The suggestions seemed to work on some combination of a timer and a volume of some sort—like a liquid volume, running out with every suggestion given. Given enough time, I think the trance would have passed on its own. But if the suggestions I made were more against her moral fiber, or her beliefs, or her worldview, then she would resist harder, and the “volume” would go down faster. Easy suggestions expelled no energy. Hard suggestions—like her being in love with me, for instance—took a lot. But, over time, I surmised that such things would grow easier and easier. If she trusted me completely, and found me massively attractive, how far a jump would love be?

Something to find out another time. I stuck then with repeating the big ones—she found me attractive. She wanted to fuck me. She wanted to suck me off anytime. She trusted me. In all, I repeated the cycle four more times—for a total of about five minutes—before she seemed to come out of the trance. She came visibly as she repeated my words, a sight I'll never forget. With her mind in a blank slate, any mental or emotional inhibitions to cumming were gone, and all she had pushing through her brain was purest pleasure.

“I trust you. I find you so attractive. I want to f-f-fuck youuu...” and then a half-minute of orgasmic shuddering.

In the end, I was crazy hard once again—and desperately turned on. We had to get back to work, though.

There were vials in a small box nearby. A mis-shipment for a medical supply store on the other side of town. We’d never gotten around to delivering them. Like a lot of things, they had fallen to the wayside.

I stroked my cock, looking at Mallory's beautiful blank face. She still touched herself even though she had just cum hard. It took nothing for me to stroke my cock and cum myself, and I filled up the four vials I held in my hand.

Holding four in my hand, I came. Soon, the vials were full. Mallory slowly turned, raising an eyebrow. Quickly fastening lids, I shoved the vials into my pocket.

“What was that?” asked Mallory.

I pulled her up and kissed her hard. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

She shrugged, clearly still a little loopy. “Sure. Okay.”

Her kiss back was long and luxurious. I could feel her heart thumping against her chest in excitement. Dainty hands crawled over my face and chest, hot moans exiting from her mouth. “Fuck, I loved that. That was amazing. You're amazing. Can we still hang out tonight? Please?”

Please, she says. Begging me for a date.

“Of course, babe. Anything you want.”