Sight Unseen
Copyright © 2013 Jessie Hackborn
Epilogue
Three months earlier
“Tell me how you’re feeling, Sheila.” The male voice addressing me was deep and pleasant, sending a little thrill of pleasure down my spine.
My body felt warm and heavy and limp. My head had lolled down against my chest, and my legs were spread slightly in my chair. My panties were wet.
Rather than going into details, I heard myself answer dully, “Nice.”
I sounded zoned out.
“You have,” the voice continued, “Experienced a profound sense of relaxation and peace, guided by my words. That’s true, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t really a question. I replied softly, my voice sleepy and breathless, “Yes…”
The voice said, “Tell me how you feel about being in a deep hypnotic trance right now, Sheila.”
“Good,” I answered in the same dreamy tone, smiling broadly.
“Tell me,” the voice asked, “Have you ever been hypnotized?”
“I know that I have never been hypnotized,” I heard myself recite obediently, almost sing-song.
“Tell me,” the voice went on, “Would you ever allow yourself to be hypnotized for any reason?”
“No,” my reply was automatic. Rote.
“Tell me,” the voice asked, “What you will do if I hypnotize you, Sheila?”
“Obey,” I heard myself parrot. The word sent another thrill of pleasure through my body.
“Tell me what you will remember about your time here,” the voice ordered firmly, “After I wake you up.”
“We had a nice chat,” my voice had the same brainless tone as before as I replied, “You helped me study. I love my time here. I trust you completely.”
The voice said, “Tell me what you will do after you leave.”
I replied dreamily, “I will masturbate thinking about being hypnotized. I will return here next Friday afternoon for another study session with you. I will not miss a study session with you. I will not be late for a study session with you. I must attend every study session with you.”
“Good girl,” the voice said. He was obviously proud of me.
I felt tingly shocks of pleasure at his praise, but I didn’t say anything. He hadn’t told me to.
“Three…” the voice began to count backward, “Two… one. Wake up, Sheila.”
I blinked at Professor Rose, my favorite instructor at my college.
Really, he was my favorite teacher anywhere. Besides being smart and fun, he was pretty cute. I never thought I’d think about someone more than twice my age that way… but he looked good for his early fifties. He was still in shape, and the little streaks of gray in his hair just made him look distinguished.
Of course, I could never tell him that I had a crush on him. It’d be inappropriate, and he might not help me study in private anymore.
He asked, “Does everything make more sense now?”
For a moment, my head felt muddled. I didn’t really remember what we’d been talking about, only that it had been nice.
I realized with horror that I was simply too turned on to concentrate. I fumbled a little and said, “I, uh, think so.”
“Daydreaming again while I talk?” he offered me a small little smile, obviously not offended.
I blushed bright red anyway and said, “Sorry, sir.”
Professor Rose shook his head and said, “That’s all right. Maybe you’d better come back on Friday. I have a couple of hours free for a student as diligent as you.”
I said gratefully, “Thanks so much, sir. I really appreciate it.”
“No trouble at all,” Professor Richardson said with a smile, “I’m always happy to see you. Hopefully, we’ll be doing it for a long time to come.”
“I hope so,” I smiled back and replied sincerely, “I like seeing you, too.”