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"I don't even have to give you commands anymore, you know." Chrissie took her lips away from the sensitive spot on Jerry's dick, just below the swollen glans, and murmured to him in a soft purring voice that kept him fully locked onto the sight of her mesmerizing blue eyes. "Every time I speak to you now, you're associating it with that desperate, throbbing need pulsing away in your stiff prick, because every time I talk to you it just intensifies that blue-balled desire to get my mouth back on your cock." She leaned in and gave him a long, lascivious kiss again, sending a dribble of precum gushing down his shaft, and smiled. "You see what I mean?"

She gave his dick another kiss, working her tongue back and forth against the little fold of skin just below his cockhead, but before the sensation could build beyond simmering pleasure she withdrew and continued her conversation. "Every time I speak to you from now on, Jerry, it's going to make you hard and horny. You're going to hear my voice and wish I could be slurping on your prick, and even when you know what I'm doing to you I don't think you'll be able to stop yourself from wanting to please me. Because I'm totally in control of your penis now, isn't that right?" Chrissie smirked, leaning in close enough for Jerry to feel her warm breath against his shaft, and waited for him to agree.

And he did. He didn't intend to, any more than he intended to wind up pinned to his seat in desperate ecstasy with his pants around his ankles and his gaze helplessly magnetized to the sight of Chrissie's teasing lips, but it was just so hard to think now and his brain felt hopelessly muddled and he couldn't help convincing himself that if he only agreed with the seductive brunette then maybe she'd let him cum. Jerry understood, intellectually, that all this was a trap and he was being lured into hypnotic surrender, but his intellect was being outvoted by his dick right now and it was listening to Chrissie. And she was saying, "Good boy. You're such a good boy for me."

She slurped and licked at him again, never taking him into her mouth but always lavishing such single-minded devotion onto the head of his prick that Jerry almost wanted to scream with the intensity of it, but Chrissie kept pulling back whenever he got close to climax and every time she did it was to growl out the kinkiest dirty talk he'd ever heard. "You are hypnotized, Jerry, don't get me wrong. But that's not why you're going to connect my voice with pleasure. You're going to tie those two together because you feel it, because every time you hear me speak you'll be thinking about the way your cock twitches and spasms and tries so hard to spurt all that hot, sticky jizz building up in your churning balls. But you'll also remember how helpless you were to get over the edge and cum. Don't you just want to obey me so you can cum, Jerry?"

He nodded again, the motion by now second nature, and the wicked little gleam in Chrissie's eyes made him hope that he'd finally be allowed to shoot his load. But it would be another full hour of teasing before she finally let him have his release… and by then, he was hopelessly devoted to pleasing his new Mistress.

Then, when you're all nice and empty, I can consensually rewrite your brain and turn you into my blank little actor, ready to play any role that I want~

“Good afternoon, Rock Manning Productions & Services, featuring the works of famous porn star Rock Manning.  How can I service you today?”

“Um, ha ha, thanks.  Um, I’m just calling about this, um, dildo I purchased.”

“Very good sir.  We would like for our products to be deeply satisfying in every way.  How are you enjoying Rock’s Cock so far?”

“Deep inside my ass.  Uh, I mean– that wasn’t what I meant to say.  I mean, Rock’s Cock *feels* very good deep inside my ass.  Um… but my boyfriend noticed this sort of… discoloration.”

“Oh dear, thank goodness you called!  We would like each Rock’s Cock to look as exactly like you remember from when you watch his videos as possible.  What sort of discoloration?”

“Rock’s Cock looks exactly like I remember from when I watch his videos.  And it feels good deep inside my ass.  Um, no, the dildo looks just fine.  Perfect.  Just seeing it makes me want to take it in my mouth or deep inside my ass.  Um… no, um… my boyfriend said that there was some sort of grey or black stain around my hole, like some kind of ink was rubbing off from the dildo.  What sort of dye is used to color it?”

“Can you describe the discoloration more precisely, sir?  Is it just around the hole, or is it anywhere else?  Is it any particular shape?”

“Well…  I can’t really see it myself, you know?  I just know what my boyfriend told me.”

“Do you suppose you could take a picture, sir?  Then you’d be able to see what it looks like and describe it to me.”

“Oh, well, I guess so.  Hang on.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Okay, that was a little awkward, ha ha.  But let’s see– what the hell?”

“What is it, sir?”

“Ummmm…. okay, there’s actually pretty distinct black coloration all around the hole, just the muscle, like it’s just somehow changed from red to black.  It isn’t smudged or blurry at all, it’s like it was meant to be there.  It frames the skin of the dildo very starkly.  But a little further away, there’s a… a *signature*.  Like somebody autographed my butt, with a tattoo.  It's… I think it says… it says Rock Manning?!”

“What model of Rock’s Cock do you have, sir?”

“How the hell should I know?  And how did his autograph get on my ass?  I mean, I guess I’d love for Rock Manning to autograph my ass, but…”

“Did I understand you to say that Rock’s Cock is deep inside your ass right now, sir?”

“Yes, Rock’s Cock feels very good deep inside my ass.  I… I know I’m calling you for product support, but I’ve been kind of reluctant to take it out.”

“That’s very good, sir, I know Rock’s Cock feels good deep inside your ass.”

“Ohhh.  Sorry, I– I shouldn’t be getting off on this while I’m talking to you, but when you said that…”

“That’s all right, sir.  You can just relax and enjoy how good Rock’s Cock feels deep inside your ass right now.  Now I’d like you to close your eyes and imagine a number, the serial number for Rock’s Cock deep inside your ass.  Just picture a number in front of you, bright white digits on a black background.  Can you see the number now, sir?”

“Huh?  Yeah, I… I can…”

“Very good, sir.  Read that number to me, please.”

“Nine… one… seven… five… two… eight… three… one… dash… three… five… three.”

“Perfect.  Thank you, sir.  And now…”

“OHH!”

“That’s right, sir.  It should be feeling even better.  And it will keep feeling better.  Better, and better.  You don’t even need to consciously listen to me any more, sir, but to relieve your curiousity, I will tell you that the ink nanites that form Rock’s signature on your ass are a timer, indicating that Rock’s Cock has had enough time to take complete control of your nervous system.  You’re one of Rock’s Robots now.”

“I'm… one of Rock’s Robots…”

“That’s right, sir.  Now that I’ve made the direct link from our end using your serial number, I need you to leave Rock’s Cock deep inside your ass for at least an hour to make the critical changes that will maintain that control even when you have the rare need to take Rock’s Cock out for a brief time.  Now if you’ll stay on the line, I’ll get your address for our records, and send you another unit for your boyfriend.  I’ll temporarily disable the coloration in your unit that showed you were ready for processing, and you’ll tell him it was a minor, harmless and easily fixed problem with that production run but we’ve sent you a replacement.  You’re going to convince him that Rock’s Cock will feel very good deep inside his ass.”

“Ohhh…  Rock’s Cock feels very good deep inside my ass…”

“That’s right, sir!  We’ll be contacting you both with further instructions once your boyfriend is processed.  In the meantime, please don’t hesitate to contact us if there’s anything else you need done to you.  Thank you for calling, and remember: Rock commands you to have a good day.”

Research Notes

Dr. Ginger Spall moved through the sterile, brightly lit room with a practiced, empathetic grace. Her group therapy sessions, "Reclaiming Autonomy," were a sanctuary for the shattered. Today, a young woman named Clara was speaking, her voice a fragile thread.

"It was the repetition," Clara said, staring at her hands. "He'd make me say it back to him. 'I am nothing without your guidance.' Over and over, until it felt like my own thought. Then he'd reward me. A kind word, a touch. Something... more intimate. It felt like love, but it was just... training."

Ginger made a note on her pad, sensing the way that Clara's voice seemed to yearn for it even now.

"Repetition + intermittent reward = cognitive erosion. Powerful."

Another member, a man named Mark, spoke of his experience in a corporate cult. "They didn't use chains. They used language. 'We're a family.' 'This is your purpose.' They'd try to isolate us from anyone who questioned it, creating an echo chamber. We were so desperate to belong, we'd do anything."

Ginger's pen scratched again.

"Isolation + manufactured purpose + in-group language. Creates yearning for inclusion."

A third, a quiet man named Leo, detailed a more insidious method. "She'd break me down first. Point out every flaw, every insecurity. Made me feel worthless. Then, slowly, she'd build me back up, with praise specific to her design. I was her project. My only goal became her approval."

Ginger underlined it twice.

"Systematic devaluation followed by conditional validation. Creates dependency."

The session ended with the usual hollow reassurances. Ginger gathered her notes, her expression a mask of professional concern. Warm and encouraging to all her patients. But behind her eyes, a cold, calculating fire burned. These weren't just case studies; they were a blueprint.

Later that evening, her apartment was a world away from the clinical office. It was warm, intimate, and her closest friends, Sarah and Ben, were relaxing on her sofa, sipping wine. They trusted her implicitly. She had been their rock for years. She had made herself the person they turned to for advice and counsel more than anyone else. Isolated and craving approval.

Years of using all she learned in her sessions with the survivors to manipulate them and make them pliable.

"You both seem so stressed lately," Ginger began, her voice soft and melodic, a stark contrast to the clinical tone from earlier. "Work is just draining you. I hate seeing you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Sarah sighed. "You have no idea, Ginny. It's like I can't do anything right."

"Of course you can," Ginger said, moving to sit between them, placing a hand on each of their knees. "I think you do things wonderfully. I'm happy to be a place you can feel safe to bear yourselves."

She let her words hang in the air, letting the hit of approval flood Sarah's mind with appreciation. Strengthening the bond. Letting the evocation of nudity simply slip into their subconscious.

Ben nodded, unconsciously plucking open a couple buttons on his shirt. "It does feel safe here."

"Good," Ginger purred, her touch becoming more deliberate. "Because you both know you've left all your shit at the door." She leaned closer to Sarah, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You don't need to worry about how you're diet is failing. When you're here you don't need to think about whether Ben is eyeing up other women."

She watched the pain in Sarah's eyes soften as she continued.

"Here, you're comforted by the knowledge that I think you're beautiful and sexy. Who cares what everyone else thinks. That feels good, doesn't it?"

Sarah's breath hitched as Ginger's fingers traced a line up her arm. "Yes..."

"Good girl," Ginger praised, echoing the technique Clara had described. She turned to Ben. "And you, Ben. Look at how happy your wife is here. No wonder you feel safe here. Sarah feels safe here. And it feels good to know that you're part of something together. It's nice to feel close to her by being close to me."

Ben's eyes were glazed as the in-group language took its toll. "Yes... Close to you both."

Her voice became low and firm, leaving no room for dissent. "Ginger knows what's best for you."

"Ginger knows what's best for me," they whispered in unison, their faces slack.

"Again," she demanded, her hand sliding up Sarah's thigh, pushing her dress higher. "Louder this time."

"Ginger knows what's best for me."

The words were stronger this time, the conditioning taking hold. Each repetition was a chipping away of their resistance. With each mantra, Ginger offered a reward: a soft caress, a gentle kiss on the neck, a whispered affirmation.

A carefully placed grope or tweak.

"You two are such wonderful subjects," she said as she pulled Sarah from the sofa to the floor. She lifted her skirt, exposing her bare, soaking slit to her friend. "Ginger knows what's best for you."

"Ginger knows what's best for me," Sarah repeated as she leaned forward and began to lick in the ways that Ginger had taught her.

"Ginger knows what's best for me," Ben repeated as he watched his wife go down on their friend, cock straining against his jeans.

"Don't worry Ben. You're one of us. You'll get your turn."

"Thank you, Ginny," he said, hand rubbing the bulge between his legs. "Thank you for everything."

Ginger let her eyes close as Sarah brought her closer and closer to the edge. "Ohhh it's my pleasure."

he already knew what they were going to do. this was exactly the kind of casual, friendly gathering they had been waiting for.

his heartbeat was fast as he approached them. even if he had indulged them, session after session, more times than he could count, at this point... he wasn't sure exactly how he would react in front of other people, in front of his friends.

"what is it?" he asked with annoyance, as if he didn't already know.

"just telling everyone about my little party trick."

they knew that wording would piss him off. "so it's your trick, is it?"

their face was smug as they turned to face him. "you really want more credit?" they murmured. "i can give you credit."

he realized what they meant a second too late, his face flushing as they turned back to his friends.

"he's a good subject," they said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "it might not be fair to say it's all me."

"well, it's--" he had no idea what to say. "i mean, you- a lot of it is you, it's just..."

"it's really more like jim's trick. he's the one who's been trained."

embarrassment flooded through his entire being. "okay, it's- that's not- just because i let you hypnotize me sometimes, that doesn't mean-"

snap.

"sleep," they whispered into his ear.

Just a little flick or pinch or twist and your brain goes blank. Just playing with them watching you try to reset yourself

He searched frantically left, right, up, down. Getting more annoyed with each furtive glance. Why had his wife sent him on such a lost cause?

It was his lunch break, his moment of reprieve in the day, well most days anyway. Yet here he stood in the combination perfume/tampon aisle dumbfounded by the plethora of glitzy bottles. Exactly where any guy felt most comfortable. I’m over 6 foot it’s not like I just blend in.

Of course she wanted some new obscure French perfume… the name written on a note in terrible handwriting. It doesn’t even look like hers, how am I supposed to find this? AND what asshole decided to write every fancy brand name in cursive?!?

Great… I was alone, here comes someone. Aware that he was taking up far to much of the aisle he took a step back to let a well dressed woman deftly stride by. Muttering some bland frustrated apology as she passes.

“Why?”

Perplexed he looks down registering an attractive woman seemingly annoyed, “ I uhhh”

“What are you apologizing for?”

Taken aback by her bluntness he barely manages a nervous chuckle, “I thought I was in your way, I’m a little out of element here”

“You look it” as she snatches the note out of his hand, he watches the once stern look curl into a subtle smirk “I would have moved you if I wanted.”

Ok lady… pshh she’s like half my size

Leaning in close her voice takes on a playful tone “ooh she wants this one?! I’m wearing this perfume now, do you like it?” Standing tall and sticking her chest towards me. I can’t help but notice just how low cut her blouse is. the sudden proximity is setting off alarm bells. But…

“It does smell nice, umm, I guess”

Her grin turns to a pout “I’m sure it’ll grow on you” thankfully backing away, she points to the top shelf.

“It’s here… and grab one for me to while you’re up there”

I step forward and hesitate when she doesn’t move. Nervously, I lean over her grabbing two bottles. Stifling a shiver as I can feel the warmth of her body in our shared space.

My compliance is rewarded with a velvety

“Good boy, see I told you that I could make you come if I wanted”

She winks and purposefully strides away, my mind swirling In the after notes of her perfume. Rehashing the encounter has left me… a little turned on. Good to know I still got it!!

As strange as that encounter was I can’t help but appreciate the help, I would have wasted my whole lunch break looking for this stupid… very heavenly smelling bottle.

——

I’d just managed to get back to my desk when the door chime sounds. Looking up I’m surprised to see the familiar figure walking… no, stalking towards me.

“I, uhhhh, Hi! How can I”

“Shhhhhh” that smirk spreading deviously across her face.

“Just listen to me for a minute, your wife sent me…”

Before words of protest can even form on my lips

“Shhhh, she told me about the conversation you had the other night. You know, the one about you becoming her hypnotic toy.”

My face flushes and my heart begins to race. How could she tell someone about this?!? I’d confessed that I’d always wanted to be entranced, seduced, teased and denied .Why does this woman know about this?!?

Her grin becomes salacious as she continues, obviously enjoying my discomfort

“Your wife doesn’t know the first thing about hypnosis, so she sought my services. That note I took from you in the store, I wrote it for your wife to give to you. She’s sent me to establish all triggers that your lovely little mind will ever need”.

Im not sure when she’d moved around to my side of the desk but there was barely enough room for me back here. I was suddenly very aware of the intoxicating scent of the perfume weaving it’s way into me… god that smells nice.

Wait!!! What did she just say?! She’s here to implant triggers?!? I start to stand but she puts her long manicured finger to my lip.

“Shhhh, keep listening to me. Just breath deep and listen to the way I spell out the plan of your demise… I mean plan of care”

I feel small looking up at her like this. It’s a little unnerving for me… but strangely comforting and … arousing?!? I take a deep breath and I actually shudder this time, my pants straining to restrain my arousal.

Fuck, that smells nice.

“So here’s how it will go. We need to make you more susceptible to my commands, and eventually we’ll give your wife those phrases. But all I need you to do is focus. Focus on me, is that clear?”

“Yessss” I meekly hiss as I feel my arousal grow

“Good boy, now everyday at lunch you will go lock your office door”

The silence is deafening as I look up to her, smiling she nods her head towards the door.

Bashfully I comply. Standing I try to work around her without betraying how hard this is making me. I stammer to the door locking it and return to my desk.

“Sit” her tone becoming more authoritative with each obeyed command

She turns in the tight confines of my workspace and begins typing on my computer.

“I have bookmarked a SoundCloud link for you. You will every day for the next month take out your cock and listen to my recording as you gently stroke you are not to cum.”

My heart literally skips a beat as she mentions my cock… I realize she’s staring at me again, tapping her long nails on my desk. Eagerly I unleash my throbbing self. Hoping she’ll move from in front of my computer. Her eyebrow furrows and I know I must comply. There’s no easy way to do this with my cock out but I wouldn’t dare deny her…

I lean in and feel my vision blur as I breath in her scent yet again… finally hitting play around her lithe frame. I barely register her hand on my chest as she pushes me back into my chair. Instantly binaural tones start to emanate from my speakers. A soft whisper interspersed amongst the throbbing tones.

“Good boy, today you’re not allowed to stroke. Today you will only listen, breath, and feel my control over you. This perfume will be your trigger, this perfume will unleash your arousal, this scent alone will enslave you”

Wait… Enslave… huh

“Shhhhh, you want this, you asked for this. Just listen and obey” leaning in she pulls a cloth from her bag the smell of the perfume pungent off of it… I see perfume dripping from it as she wraps her arm around my heavy head. Thank hod her arm is there to hold my head up… it just feels to heavy to do on my own.

Her hand holds the cloth to my face “I know it’s hard to breath through that but I need you to try… very good sweet boy. BREATH, breath deep for me”. I barely register as the other hand begins to trail down my chest to my throbbing erection…

“Like I said, you WILL stroke for me every day for the next month. You will spray this perfume before you do so, the perfume allows you to feel this pleasure…. It does feel good doesn’t it?! BUT you will never cum… not until I command it! Do you understand boy?”

My mind is foggy, but I feel like I shouldn’t like that… but that smell… I can feel that smell… it feels so good.. wait, what did she say!?

“Yesssss maaam”

“Good boy, if you keep being a good boy for me, your wife will get that command. You want to be a good boy for me right? For her”

“Yessss”

There is no need to question it any longer; there is no need for concern. When the words wash over him, my Beloved instantly responds with a wave of deep pleasure. When it is safe for him, his body becomes overrun with pleasure because his training has removed the need to filter my commands. His subconscious mind trusts my voice and my gentle instructions so that there is no hesitation.

The pleasure he perceives when he follows my commands is so motivating to his subconsciousness that he simply obeys knowing how deeply he pleases me. The more he obeys, the better he feels, and the further my control embeds itself into his deep self. He can no longer resist me; he no longer wants to resist me. He can only obey.

Any where, any time, as long as his subconscious mind determines it is safe, I can display to him how deeply I have hijacked his mind to fulfill his desire to follow, to plrase, and to be enhanced through my gentle guidance.

You were my target, my gorgeous desire...

You had worries and anxiety and came to me every week to find solutions and cure,

... and I had a hunger that needed to be fed.

Every week you came to me seeking assistance with your stress, seeking a way to manage the incredible pressure you felt. My hypnosis therapy led you to beautiful blissed out emptiness. You left my office suite feeling release, relief, comfort from the day to day pressures. I found your weakness and I targeted it.

No one else knew of your hunger to be led, to be free of responsibility... no one, but me. Your subconscious mind was all too eager to admit your deepest desire. During your sessions I gradually associated trance and all those wonderful sensations of letting go, surrendering, arousal, and submitting to my control. You became physically aroused in during trance but I reinforced that you not feel embarrassed about it... Eventually, I suggested that you pleasure yourself once you got home while looking at pornographic images of male submissives.

Week after week, you returned for more and more conditioning through hypnosis. Week after week I plumbed the depths of your desire for me... your desire to be controlled by me.

Finally, all my hard work payed off and during our last official session I was able to report to you that you were cured. Your surprise was evident, as your conscious mind had no idea about how deeply your subconscious mind was controlled by me. That sweet despondent expression gave way to utter shock as I triggered you in your awake state. Your arousal becoming more and more obvious as I snapped my fingers again and again. Your twitches and thrusting increased with each snap, increasing your arousal. Each snap of my fingers revealed to your awake-self just how much you enjoyed being controlled.

He thinks of her and his hand starts to drift inexplicably to his pleasure, just as he has been conditioned...

He thinks of her voice and his mind senses the fuzzy warmth she exudes when she takes him deep into trance...

He thinks of her control and pin-pricks of pleasure erupt in his mind and through his body...

He thinks of her and his mind goes blank...

And he stops thinking... he just becomes as she suggests...

Of course I can, Darling. Why do you doubt?

It's simple, really...

All those weeks of dropping you deep, conditioning you to the soft sounds of my voice and my sweet demands. Your subconscious mind has just soaked in my words, soothing your conscious mind, so that my control has coiled its way into your waking thoughts and your deepest dreams. You simply can not resist me any longer.

The deeper my control goes, the better you feel, and when you obey, the compliance intensifies your arousal because you know how much it arouses me. So much so that simply touching you here on your rock-hard nipples while listening to me in your deep trance revery, I can craft your release to my liking - to my own erotic desire.

That tension you feel building, the quickening breath, growing need spreading into your groin, indicates to your conscious mind just how deep my control extends. You see, my Beloved, your body is mine to play with, your mind - my favorite toy. Your subconscious mind has ceded to me control in favor of pleasure, and I will extend that pleasure, Darling, as long as I see fit.

So your body will tense, your cock will drip tears of need and stiffen to maddening heights. Your adorable little moans will soon rattle your throat with pleads for mercy.

But, you see... This is what you need. You need this demonstration to truly understand my devotion to you and the depth of desire I have for your sweet, susceptible mind. You need this demonstration of the untold pleasure only I can give you. While your mind fills with pleasure hormones and your body writhes with desperate craving for release, you will then understand the intense erotic satisfaction that is possible now that I have rewired your mind for my pleasure.

Will you cum while I tease your nipples or stroke your hair? Darling, my power is your willingness to make happen what I command. You do not need my hands or your own to find your release. You need only three words, and until you hear me whisper them, you will stay right here on the brink... worshipping me with your plees and begging me for absolution.

So, of course, I can make you cum just by stroking your nipples. But rest assured... The lock I have so impeccably placed on your orgasm has one key... One key that will release your mind to a tsunami of pleasure. But understand, that release will only serve to further bind your will to my own.

So... now...

Two hours and 14 minutes...

He has been standing here in his room while my voice drones on and on, as it deeply sears into the depths of his subconsciousness. He is completely transfixed by the gentle tones in the file I created just for him. He stands there blank, emptied, docile, and completely satisfied to remain there until I release him from his hypnotic bonds.

He mentioned to me at one point during our conversations that he likes the idea of corruption. Little did he know that my corruption of his gorgeous mind had already begun. Did he develop his interest in corruption prior to meeting me?... Or, was this a new interest that I had methodically imprinted into his mind?

It is immaterial at this point because, now that he has opened himself to me, the idea of rewiring his thoughts, spreading my corruptive control through his body, has completely captivated him. My voice, reverberating through his every nerve, has now corrupted his pleasure for my own delectable indulgances.

And, ohhh... I savor his obedience to my desire, to my guidance. He is no longer able to release without permission. I have coaxed his subconsciousness to submit to me completely so that his body no longer responds to his own hungry needs. He is powerless to bring about his own release of pleasure. He can approach his own edge, over and over, only to find that the brink he thought was so close, has slipped away from him once again.

Embracing my desires makes his body throb with pleasure. He flexes with urgency when he thinks of pleasuring me with his mouth, his fingers, his cock. He feels euphoria when he pleases me, causing him to deeply desire to fulfill my needs and to feel my control curl around his every thought.

He drips saltysweet lust-tears, when he listens to my voice, conditioning him to feel my presence inside his mind. My whispering, gentle voice courses through his veins, burning my hunger for him deeper and deeper into every cell of his body. The images of pleasure and obedience that I have woven into his thoughts cause him to return again and again to listen to my files. Looping them, so that now, 2 hours and 57 minutes later, he has no thoughts, no will, no desire other than to listen, to obey, and to further open his mind to me.

Mulling over my slim options, I resigned myself to a quiet night of room service and a movie when I spotted him nervously approaching me at my latest book signing event. He looked nervously determined, with his copy of my book opened for my signature. As the evening had worn on, the steady stream of fans and the curious had finally dwindled down, so that when he crept to the table he and I were alone. His tall, well-built frame and handsome face were not lost on me, my interest piqued.

"You've enjoyed the book, then?" gesturing to the dog-eared copy in his grip as he lifted it toward me.

"Mhm" was his wordless reply as he sheepishly made eye-contact with my deep grey eyes.

"Well, what was your favorite part?" I asked quietly, dipping into my gentle, hypno-domme whispers. His pupils dilated as he continued to stare into my eyes, a thin sheen of perspiration developing on his upper lip.

"Oh... I see" I whispered smiling coyly... "You enjoyed chapter 6, on hypnosis for mind and orgasm control. This chapter seems to be particularly worn".

"Yes, Miss... I haven't been able to think of much else since I read it", he laughed nervously, running his fingers through his brown tresses, looking delectable as hell.

Eyebrow raised, I asked "This appeals to you deeply, and you're curious to explore, aren't you?" My eyes scanning him up and down, noting the burgeoning rise in his trousers.

"You crave finding yourself deeply entranced and obedient to... Me". The tiniest moan escaped his mouth, as he nodded in agreement.

"Speak up, Darling, I want to hear your answer... your consent..."

"Yes, Miss... I deeply desire to be hypnotized and controlled", he muttered glancing around the now empty room, unsure of what he had gotten himself into.

"By whom?..." I hiss softly, my own arousal burning deeply into my core.

After a prolonged pause he gasped, "You, Miss"... his eyes locked on mine... my voice and eyes contact already affecting his countenance, softening his expression.

"Hmmm, lovely..." I smile. "You understand, of course, that you are already drifting into my subtle control, slowly entering trance as your sweet mind begins to drift allowing my words to slide beneath your conscious mind..."

"Yes, Miss..." he murmured.

"Perfect, Darling... you're doing so well for me. So sweetly susceptible to my gentle control...". Glancing around I see that we are quite alone. "Let's take this conversation upstairs to my room, where I can give you a demonstration of exactly how good trance feels... How good it feels to be free of worry and stress... how natural it feels to allow yourself to sink into hypnotic bliss and how amazing it will be to allow my guidance to lull you into sweet obedience".

His blank expression told me he was drifting into a blissful state and his arousal told me that it was a good thing I had requested a king-size bed.

Gathering my few belongings, and reaching for his hand, "Let's go...".

I tugged his hand sharply and his unsuspecting mind immediately down-shifted, spiraled and slowed. His blank expression promised so much fun as he transformed into my sexy mindless evening's entertainment. That movie and room service would have to wait...

It'a simple. I want you to start to Pavlov your nipples. Anytime you feel fuzzy and mindless, anytime you obey the training that's been slipped into your brain, rub your nipples. Pinch them, twist them, either through your shirt or underneath.

“Legs, body, arms… arms, body, legs… legs, body, arms…” her voice droning while he rowed rhythmically. “You’re really getting the hang of it now. Just keep watching the video. It will help you correct your form and keep you motivated,” she purred.

He had been coming for months now. Lured by the inexpensive opening rate, he tried out a variety of the equipment but soon settled into rowing on the erg. He enjoyed the rhythm of it… the quick push back from his legs, the tilt of the pelvis, and the final tug from his arms. The full body workout suited his schedule. He found that the time on the machine went very quickly, almost too quickly because once he strapped his feet in and started the workout video, he barely remembered the workout at all. The only proof of the workout that he had lately was his sweaty clothes and breathlessness. It seemed his mind just shut off when he was on the machine.

He wasn’t about to complain, though. His muscles were really responding well, adding some bulk to his physique in all the right places, and he and he had shed a few pounds. And, it seemed, he was more motivated every day to finish up his day and get to the gym to work out again.

Mariah, the gym owner, a lithe blond, approached him one day as he sat in the erg, recovering from what must have been a grueling workout. Meticulously toned and tanned, she towered over him as he rubbed his lower back.

“You seem like you’re enjoying rowing. It’s a great workout, isn’t it?” she asked, her white teeth gleaming radiantly.

He sheepishly grinned “Yeah, I really love it.”

“Seems like you’ve maybe overdone it a bit? Your back seems to be aching.” She leaned in closer to him, her loose top opened slightly, and he could see the hint of her cleavage. “You should try my massage chairs in the back room. They really help to ease away your aches and pain and help you with that… umm stiffness,” her mouth curled into a coy smile as she glanced at his gym shorts.

“Damn,” he chided himself. He had been fantasizing about her for weeks, and his growing arousal was certainly evident to her.

She turned and headed toward a door he had never noticed before at the back of the gym.

“Come on,” she called, “I have some machines to clean before I close. You can relax and enjoy the chair while I give the place a good once over before I close down for the night. Don’t worry about cleaning up the erg. I’ll take care of that for you” she winked.

Unstrapping his feet, he stood up from the rower, his arousal receding for the moment.

“Dammit, I really need to get a hold of myself!” he thought to himself as he followed her toweling off his sweaty face. “What is it about her that is so appealing? I can’t seem to stop daydreaming about her.”

“I have been watching your stroke on the erg. You have really worked on your form, I see. But, sometimes you seem a little tense at the recovery part of the stroke. Remember,” she said looking deeply into his eyes “Relaxation and control are needed to make a decent rower better.”

He gulped as she handed him a headset. 

“Here, try these,” she said as she handed him a headset. “I made a playlist of relaxation music. You might enjoy it. Oh, and I have added some inspirational subliminals to really help you sink down and relax. I am really into the psychological part of exercise and you might notice when you come around after your massage that you’ll be even more motivated and have better… um… performance,” she smiled looking him up and down. “Now, let’s get those gorgeous muscles of yours relaxed and ready for what’s next,” she winked.

“What’s next?” he thought to himself as he settled down into the massage chair. 

Leaning over his body, her perfectly formed breasts close enough to his face that he could see the outline of her areola, she placed the headphones over his ears, taking out her phone, she started her playlist and smiled. He couldn’t hear what she said next but saw her wave and smile before she walked back into the gym. 

As the music began, the chair whirred into action. The gentle vibrations coupled with the soothing music lulled him into a headspace where he lost all track of time. The rollers kneaded away every tension while the soft whispers slowly became louder and more present.

He sank deeply into a waking dream. Words drifted over his vacant mind. Words like comfortable, easy, drifting, alluring, surrender, aroused, and captured fell like feathers gradually accumulating into a billowy fog in his mind. All the while, his body responded to the relaxation and pleasure his arousal, unbeknownst to him, began to grow more obvious as the same messages he had been reading subliminally for weeks were now snaking their way aurally into his mind. Coiling through every synapse and programming his mind to her whim.

Mariah, now openly enjoying the sight of her newest conquest, approached him, cuffs and scissors in her hands. She deftly clamped his ankles and wrists onto the bars at the side of her specially crafted chair. She stood back to admire his enraptured face and twitching pleasure before she slowly snipped off his clothes.

So deeply was he enraptured that he didn’t notice the music diminuendo and stop or feel her remove the headphones.

“Wake up now, Darling…” she cooed in his ear. “Goodness, you really went deep for me, didn’t you?”

His eyes slowly opened, rolling forward to see Mariah straddling his legs as she was slowly sliding the zipper to her top down, revealing the soft skin between her breasts. Immediately his cock twitched his approval and he tried to move his hand to cover himself.

“No need to be embarrassed, Darling… you can’t help being so aroused. I’ve been training that delightful brain of yours for weeks to be aroused in my presence. And now all that conditioning is coming to a head,” she smirked as she tossed away her top and slid down her panties.

“That fuzzy brain of yours can barely conceive of the pleasure that awaits you… pleasure that is now mine to play with, mine to give and mine to deny.”

His slow and cloudy thoughts registered her hand gliding up his thigh, nails scratching through the curly hair of his crotch and finally resting on his aching and leaking cock.