Twenty-One Days

Part 1

by S.B.

Tags: #dom:female #femdom_hypnosis #mind_control #sub:male

© S.B. 2018-2024 All Rights Reserved. 

Reproduction and distribution of this writing without the written permission of the author is prohibited. This writing is not to be included in any publication - free or otherwise -, with the exception of the author's self-published works.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.

The day Carmen found out she was pregnant was the happiest day ever in the Williams household. She and her husband had been trying for five years already, always with the same disheartening results. The news that they could finally start the family they dreamed of was a genuine emotional roller-coaster that started and ended in tears of utter joy. It was a risky pregnancy, one that inspired extra caution going forward but they were willing to do whatever it took to make it work.
Carmen and David agreed not to know the baby’s gender in advance to add to the excitement of the birthday but a slip of the tongue of their doctor during a routine check-up ruined the surprise. They knew it was a girl and they immediately settled on the name Lena in honor of Carmen’s beloved grandmother who had helped her so much growing up.
Lena was born in the middle of September about a month earlier than expected. It seemed she was in a hurry to discover the beauty of Life and set out on her journey of personal growth. Like all parents, Carmen and David wanted a bright future for their child, one they sought to create from the moment she first cried in the nurse’s arms. It was a day of unforgettable memories, the first chapter of a new thrilling (and, sometimes, tumultuous) book.
Lena was a quiet child in her early years. She didn’t smile much and hardly complained about anything. Balancing the budget of the household wasn’t always easy, which led to fewer gifts and almost no extravaganzas at all. When she wanted something and her parents quietly told her she would have to wait a little longer to get it, she understood and never threw a tantrum. Those formative moments influenced her personality a lot. Disappointment was a real thing and one she got used to, quickly.
On the day of her eighth birthday, her mother sat down with her in her bedroom to tell her she was pregnant again. The second time was even more shocking than the first and also ten times more dangerous. The chances of both surviving were slim, but Carmen wanted to give it another shot regardless of the consequences, unlike her husband. That was the first time Lena noticed a rift between her parents, and the fracture kept growing as the months passed by.
Unfortunately, all of Carmen’s efforts and suffering were for naught. She suffered a miscarriage in the middle of the pregnancy cycle and slipped into a deep depressive state after that. Lena, who had grown more attached to her mother than her father for much of her young life, felt the loss as intensely as if it were a missing part of her own body, and she too became colder and more distant.
The teenage years came and went without a rebellious phase. Lena never painted her beautiful auburn hair purple or pierced her ears more times than a person could number. Unlike the next-door neighbors, she resisted the appeal of gothic fashion and continued to be the same tall and athletic young woman with almond eyes, rosy cheeks, and a small pointy nose just like her mother’s. However, despite the same external appearance, her psyche started falling apart with an ever-growing apathy filling her soul, exacerbated by her parents’ inevitable divorce. Lena was now more torn than ever, haunted by the phantom presence of the sister that never was, and the dreams of a big happy family gone to waste. The separation hit her hard, giving her fewer reasons to smile, and her psychological problems began.
During the first year of college, Lena found herself waking up in the middle of the night, crying for no apparent reason. When she was awake, she was in a slump, counting the seconds for her classes to be over. Her depressive episodes happened randomly, lasting from a couple of hours to several weeks, and she began to see life as a constant parade of disillusions. Everything was a drag and there was no fun anywhere around. By the time she graduated, it was as if she had grown almost twenty years older, the weight of her constant annoyances bringing her closer and closer to the verge of oblivion.
Lena became an English teacher by day and a wannabe poet in her spare time or when she was too ecstatic to close her eyes and drift into a peaceful slumber. She liked to improvise, and her words were filled with anguish and ennui. Sometimes, she would feel a sudden urge to destroy everything and start anew, but she never followed those impulses, saving copies of everything she produced for when the moment was right to revisit them again. Self-publishing a book was something that had crossed her mind on multiple occasions as well, but as she grew more and more tired and alienated from her surroundings, she could almost feel the last remaining energy reserves deplete in real time, never to be filled up again. She was not okay.
She tried therapy and flooding her bloodstream with medication, but nothing changed. Her last psychiatrist told her it was because she was unwilling to break free from the dark stupor and become a better version of herself but, while that may be true, she refused to admit it. Right before parting ways with him forever, she flipped him off and felt good about it. Then she walked back to her flat and sat down, whining. For over a month, she did nothing noteworthy, her mind wandering in complex labyrinths of self-pity and contemplating the void as if it were the only way out. When the first thought of suicide became more than a passing whisper in the night, her instinct of self-preservation exploded inside her brain. She called Agnes asking for advice and what she got was not what she expected.
Agnes was the only friend from her childhood days she still had contact with. They attended the same high school and university and shared plenty of memorable experiences throughout the years. Despite having to deal with her own set of problems from dating two abusive men one after the other, she always remained headstrong and upbeat, a beacon of hope in the darkest of nights. She was the only person Lena could count on to help her navigate the treacherous and distorted thoughts plaguing her mind, and she was always thankful for her never-ending support. The bank cashier was six months older than Lena, a natural blonde who spent most of the year as a brunette, with the redhead look reserved for special occasions. She was petite, with a round face, stunning aquamarine eyes, and plump lips. An expert kisser, the only thing she regretted in her life was the year she was obsessed with animal tattoos, a frenzied passion that ended with most of her right arm covered in ink. Before getting married in an intimate ceremony back in her hometown in Colorado, she spent a small fortune removing most of the intricate designs to better match her dress.
“Hey girlfriend,” Agnes said over the phone. “I didn’t expect to hear from you today. What’s up?”
“Hey...” Lena muttered, her voice sounding incredibly distorted as if she were drowning in the middle of a cold and desolate ocean. “I’m thinking of ending it all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Please, don’t make me say it. I really don’t want to...” Lena sobbed, her weary head banging against the wall of her bedroom.
“Oh, dear...” Agnes perked her ears and stood to attention. “Lena, sweetie, where are you right now?”
“At home, watching the rain outside. I have done nothing yet, but I can’t stop thinking it wouldn’t be that much of a loss if I did...”
“Okay, stop that. Don’t give those stupid feelings any power over you. That’s not true. It’s your mind playing dirty tricks. Have you been taking your meds?”
“No. I stopped a while back.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t like the way they messed with my head and the doctor was a quack, anyway. The way he talked was so goddamned condescending and you know I hate people like that.”
“Yeah, I do, but he was only trying to help. You’re making it worse for you when you do things like this.”
“Worse than it was before? I doubt it. It’s like I’m ...”
“Empty? Hollow?”
“Yeah, something like that. When I look in the mirror, all I see is a husk, not a person.”
“I get it. When your inner perception is twisted, everything on the outside gets distorted, too. It’s not real, Lena. It’s just a shadow.”
“It hurts, Agnes,” Lena sighed, “and I don’t know what else to do to make it stop.”
“I’m coming over, okay? I’m coming over and we can talk about this over a hot cup of coffee. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
“You don’t need to come. It’s raining like hell and it’s not safe for you to get behind the wheel like this. Just stay on the line for a bit.”
“I’m here for as long as you need. Take a deep breath and push those nasty thoughts away. Do it for me.”
“I’m trying. That’s why I called,” Lena peered outside the window just in time to see a bright, blue lightning light up the dark skies with divine wrath. Watching a thunderstorm at 3 a.m. never stopped being an incredibly humbling experience.
“I’m glad you did. This isn’t you, Lena. Try to keep that in mind.”
“Then who am I?”
“Someone in pain. You’re confused but you don’t have to be like that. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I understand everything that’s happening in your mind right now, but I’ve known you for a long time to recognize the strength within you that you’re now failing to see. So... yeah. I’m here. And we can talk about anything you want or nothing at all. It doesn’t matter as long as you are safe.”
“I’m much better already now,” Lena replied as she watched another lightning strike light up the neighborhood."
“I’m glad, but you really shouldn’t have quit your meds like that. The chemical imbalance doesn’t help, you know?”
“Yeah, well... it’s done. There’s got to be another way that doesn’t involve drugs to dull my pain.”
“Maybe there is. Shall I tell you about it?”
“Of course.”
“Have you ever tried hypnosis? Femdom hypnosis?”
“You’re joking, right? Is that even a thing?”
“It’s not a joke and yes, it’s real,” Agnes smiled. “There was a time recently when I was in the dumps too, and it helped me a lot. It’s worth a shot if you ask me.”
“So this is something you’ve tried yourself?” Lena shook her head. “Because it seems so... random and weird.”
“Yes, I tried it, and it did wonders for my mood and for my marriage as well. It empowered me in ways I never thought possible, and it made a real difference in the way I handle things now. It’s only weird if you believe it to be, so don’t. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“It depends on what you expect me to do, Agnes.”
“I’m sending you a file, the same I listened to. Play it at least twice a day for the next twenty-one days and your thoughts will gradually begin to change.”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust me.”
“Okay, but I’m not making any promises. If things get too weird for me...”
“Discontinue the process, no problem. It’s an acquired taste for some people but since it worked so well for me, I’m hoping it works for you, too. Give me one second.”
“Sure.”
Lena heard Agnes tap her screen, followed by the unmistakable sound of an e-mail arriving at her inbox. Lena glanced at the file accompanying her friend’s brief message and scratched her nose, quizzically. The 15-minute .mp3 was entitled Dominant (All the Confidence You Need) and the recording artist went by the name of Mistress Saar, the Dutch short form of Sarah. A quick online search while Agnes waited patiently for her to say something led her to a functional yet somewhat outdated website where Mistress Saar sold her mesmerizing creations. The recordings varied in length with the shortest one clocking only five minutes and four seconds and the longest, running for over two hours. Some were on the cheap side, no more than the price of two cups of coffee, but most of them came off as quite expensive. Besides feel-good files, Mistress Saar specialized in creating intricate aural fantasies that, in her own words, “took the listener to a very special place inside their minds, where everything was not only possible but desirable.”
There were no clear pictures of the artist anywhere on the website, only a handful of artsy interpretations where one could see a glimpse of a colorful wig or a solitary golden eye glimmering in the darkness. The artwork accompanying the recordings had the same esoteric vibes, with Lena never being sure about what she was looking at. 
“Lena? Lena, are you still there?” Agnes finally asked when the silence on the other end of the line became too unbearable.
“Hmm? Oh yes, sorry... Just doing some digging. Where did you hear about this person?”
“It was through my hairdresser. She’s a friend of hers. I never had the pleasure of meeting her in person but that recording blew me away. Why don’t you listen to it the moment you go back to bed?”
“I might do just that.”
Outside, the copious rain was giving signs of finally slowing down, and the roaring thunder was beginning to fade away into the distance as well. It was a good sign that the worst part of the turmoil had passed, with a new promise of hope shining in the starry skies. Lena hadn’t magically pushed away all the improper thoughts from her mind, but the soothing voice of her friend appeased her to some extent. 
“The weather is beginning to clear up,” Agnes said. “I can still make it over there.”
“Aren’t you working tomorrow?”
“Yes, but you’re more important than any shift at the bank. I don’t mind sleeping over if you’re game.”
“Won’t your husband be upset?”
“Of course not. Jake is a good man and he’s worried about you, too. Get the sofa ready and I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay?”
“You don’t need to sleep on the sofa. My bed is big enough for us both,” Lena smiled.
“Even better. Wait for me then.”
“I will. I don’t mean to push it but is there any chance you can stop by a 7-Eleven on your way here and get me some cinnamon rolls?”
“Consider it done. I’m already getting dressed.”
“Thank you. See you soon.”
Lena hung up and sat down in bed, her cheeks slightly flustered, and her heart rate slowly returning to normal. Agnes was really something else, a trustworthy companion that other people would love to have around. Twenty minutes was more than enough to see what the fuss was all about with Mistress Saar’s dreams of dominance. 
She read the description of the file one more time on the website. The first two paragraphs were standard affirmations with no fetish connotations of any kind but the last one rang differently. “Become the Goddess you were always meant to be,” it said. “The world is waiting to kiss your feet.”
“Okay then,” Lena shrugged, unconvinced. Her knowledge of hypnosis was sketchy, but the tropes were familiar. She needed to find a comfortable position, so she snuggled in bed, cocooned by the warm duvet. She knew focus was a must, so she closed her eyes even before the recording began. She also knew listening closely was important, so she emptied her mind and her senses as much as she could so that the warm voice seeping through the headphones became the center of her world. A soft arpeggio echoed in her ears as the enigmatic Mistress Saar welcomed her into the depths of her own mind.
“Welcome, dear. I’m Mistress Saar. I know why you’re here. You’re looking for a new source of energy. You want to free yourself from the constraints of your mind and the expectations of others. You wish to be seen in a different light that always irradiates confidence and self-worth. You crave to be dominant in everything you say and do. All the confidence you want, and more is easily attainable if you simply follow the rules of this hypnotic program. Listen to my voice, take a deep breath, and relax...”

((I hope you enjoyed this story. Do you want to have more fun with me? Consider supporting my personal website - https://www.sbspellbound.net - through my Patreon page - https://www.patreon.com/sbspellbound - then, because you’ve yet to see everything I can create. Feedback is always welcome. You can reach out to me by writing to sbstories@hotmail.com or sbspellbound@sbspellbound.net. Thank you in advance.))

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