The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Don’t try to move. Even if you manage to move a little, you’ll probably just fall over.”

Allison tried to move. Inexplicably (predictably?), she couldn’t.

“What the hell did you do to me?” she growled.

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Then why can’t I move?”

“Ok, maybe I did, a bit.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

“Seriously though. This is about ten percent me and ninety percent you.” Her friend’s voice came from behind her. It sounded huskier than usual.

“You can save that shit about not being able to make me do anything I don’t want to do, because I don’t believe it anymore. I don’t want to do this.”

“It’s usually true.” Celia walked around to face her, standing very close. “Well, it’s about ninety percent true. You can... rearrange what someone wants, if it’s the right type of person. And I think you might be. But I didn’t even do that.”

She placed her hands on Allison’s pale shoulders, looking at her steadily. The immobile girl glared back. Her skin was hot to the touch. An angry blush had spread down her neck and across her shoulderblades.

“What do you remember about the past few days?” Celia asked evenly.

“Everything except Thursday night. I think you know that.”

“What do you remember about Thursday night?”

“I knocked on your door. Then it was Friday morning.”

“Would you like me to explain what really happened?”

“No, I want you to undo whatever the hell you did, now.”

Celia looked at her friend meaningfully. Her eyes could seem shockingly dark sometimes; this was one of those times. She smiled in a way that might have looked tender to an observer, but to Allison it just looked patronizing. The two girls looked very different as they squared off in the bedroom: Celia’s Mediterranean tan over Allison’s pale freckles, her dark eyes against Allison’s sea blue, her toned limbs against Allison’s soft curves.

“Well, too bad,” Celia intoned. “Because I think it’s important for you to know. And since you won’t listen otherwise, we have to do it this way. Consider it an intervention.”

She pushed firmly on the pale shoulders, then let go.

Allison gasped. Her eyes went wide; she began to tip over backwards. She was going to fall and she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t move a finger. She tipped past the point where she could have stopped it even if she could move. For one long moment she was terrified, falling endlessly through the air...

Her body flopped bonelessly onto the bed, bouncing once then settling. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it; she could hear it.

Celia stood over her, statuesque and serene. At that moment, she looked every bit like a Greek goddess. She put one knee on the bed and leaned over her friend.

“You know, most people have a pretty strong reaction to falling blindly like that. They flail around, twist their bodies, grab for anything they can. Aren’t you the least bit curious about why you couldn’t just now?”

“I’ll scream,” Allison said in a small voice.

“Look, cut it out, ok? It’s important for you to know this stuff about yourself, because otherwise, someone with less than noble intentions will recognize it and take advantage of it. And then you’ll really be screwed.

“I’m not enjoying this, but if it’s what I have to do to make sure that doesn’t happen, then I will. Because I care about you, though God knows why sometimes.

“And if you really think about it, sweety, you can’t scream. Your voice is just a whisper. Think about it; you can feel it in your throat. You can feel the air welling up for a scream, but then the air just slides out. Your chest muscles loosen and they just can’t build up enough pressure for a scream. The air just hisses out in a whisper. I’m right, aren’t I? Think about it, then try.”

Allison tried. She took in a breath... but something happened in her chest, in her throat. At the last moment they went slack, right at the moment they were supposed to tighten to make sound. The air left her lips softly.

“Stop it,” she whispered.

“I’ll stop it when you stop being so coy and start being honest with the both of us. Now then...

“On Thursday night, I gave you some suggestions. One of them was a trigger that, when I say it, makes you start listening to my voice in a way you didn’t before. The words become more real; they become like actual things, actual thoughts. Just like they did when I put you under that night. That’s why, when you tried to leave just now, and I said ‘freeze’, you froze. And that’s why you can’t scream.”

“Yeah, I think I figured that part out.”

“At least your mouth is working just fine.”

“I wish my fists were.”

“What I’m trying to get you to think about, but you’re so determined not to, is why it worked, Allie, and why it’s working so well. Because honey, I’ve been studying hypnosis for four semesters, and I can tell you that this isn’t normal. It shouldn’t work so well, not days after the fact, and not for someone who claims they don’t want to be doing what they’re doing.”

“Fine. You’re the expert, with all the training and all that... voice. Tell me.”

“Finally!”

“Piss off. You make jokes but I’ve been feeling so weird all week, my head’s been all over the place, I haven’t even been able to—” she stopped, and blushed.

“Haven’t been able to what?” The dark skinned beauty leaned closer with interest.

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, it’s just us girls. Tell me.”

“I don’t see what business it is of yours—”

“You know, chances are I can get you to tell me anyway.”

“So why don’t you?”

“I wanted to keep this nice and conversational-like.” She smiled sweetly.

“I haven’t been able to get off, ok? Is that what you did Thursday night? Put me under and told me I couldn’t get off anymore?”

Celia’s smile faded, replaced by a look of concern.

“Actually no, I didn’t do anything like that. You haven’t been able to... at all?”

“Not at all.”

Celia rolled to one side to sit next to her inert friend. She thought for a moment.

“What I did do,” she said finally, “was have you forget everything that happened that night. And that night you were very... honest about yourself, and your fantasies. I had you forget it all, because I was worried that if you knew it all at once, it would be too much and you’d have a breakdown or something. It’s not always good to have twenty-four years of repression come out in a single moment. Sure, it may be the reason why former Catholic schoolgirls are so good in bed, but that’s different.

“So if you were using one of those things to get off, if that was the only thing you used, then it wouldn’t work anymore. Which actually kind of worries me.”

“Great. Are you done embarassing me?”

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Celia said softly. She placed a hand on Allison’s head. The auburn hair spilled across the bed in waves, where it had come to rest when she fell.

“Well, you did, so can we get this over with or are you going to have me dance around like a chicken first?”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m not so sure.”

The darker skinned girl took her friend’s chin in her hand, turning the limp girl’s head until their eyes met.

“If you weren’t sure, we wouldn’t be here.”

Allison looked up with alternating fear and anger, but said nothing.

Remember that this is about her, Celia thought, gathering herself.

“I want to demonstrate something. Look up at the ceiling,” she began, turning her friend’s head to face upwards again. “Try to look at the entire ceiling at once, not just one spot. You might have to unfocus your eyes a little to do that, but try. It’s like when we used to go out to the lacrosse field to get drunk and watch the clouds. It was almost like vertigo, wasn’t it? Seeing something so far away, so high up. But a safe vertigo, because you can feel the earth on your back. If you really tried, you could see them moving and changing, even on a calm day. If you really tried.

“Look at the ceiling as if it was a cloud, with that same safe vertigo. The lines in it blur, and the spots fade away. It is a cloud. It’s an enormous, white, puffy cloud, and it’s slowly sinking towards you. Can you see it, Allie?”

“Sure.”

“As it sinks towards you, it takes on actual weight and thickness. It becomes just like a big ball of cotton. When it finally comes to rest on top of you, you can feel it, and it’s the softest thing in the world. But it doesn’t stop there.

“It presses down against you, against every inch of you. It even sinks through your clothes, pressing against your skin. It’s thicker now, just as soft, but thicker, an impossibly large ball of cotton. Firmly, yet gently, it is holding you against the mattress.

“You can control your body again, Allie. You’e not frozen anymore. But it doesn’t matter, because the cotton cloud is too strong. It’s holding you down. If you move your arms or legs, they’ll just get tangled up in the cloud and pressed back against the bed.”

“Is there a point to this?” Allison breathed.

Her arms moved slowly, as if a great weight was on them. The muscles in her shoulders tensed and strained, and her arms left the covers for just a moment. Her jaw set with exertion. Then she gasped and her arms fell back to the bed above her head. She looked very much like an invisible man was holding her down.

Celia watched until her friend had given up.

“Does being held down like that make you feel anything strange? Anything at all?”

“It makes me feel like biting a hole in your face is what it makes me feel,” the fair skinned girl said through her teeth.

“Nothing? Think, because if what you told me Thursday is true, it’s important.”

“Just the biting thing. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not even when it starts to tingle? Because like teeny tiny electric charges, just the faintest little sparks, it tingles. Everywhere it touches you starts to tingle too, and it is pressing against every inch of you. It’s a good tingling, Allie. Everywhere, everywhere the cloud touches feels nice, warm, a faint charge, almost like you’re being tickled but not quite. You can struggle against it if you want, but you’ll only make yourself touch even more of the cloud if you do.”

“Is this really necessary?” Allison was beginning to blush; it spread down her neck and across her arms and chest quickly. No one blushes like a redhead. She squirmed against her invisible bonds. Her breathing became heavier, coming in rasps.

A thought started to itch at the corner of her mind. Something about being held down giving her the freedom to move. It made no sense. It was something that Celia hadn’t put there, something that had always been there, and something that... hadn’t been there all week. She couldn’t think it, not in the front of her mind, but it was always there, and it was there now. She knew that the cotton was what it felt like.

The squirming became writhing.

“Celia?”

“Just more more thing and I’ll take you to Thursday,” the husky voice came from somewhere above her.

“I don’t.. Celia, make it stop, I’m—”

“It’s ok. It’s just us girls, remember?” the voice was smiling now.

Allison didn’t answer. She was trying to make the... make it stop, and she couldn’t. Don’t moan, don’t moan, oh my god, don’t think about it, don’t—She moaned, then whimpered at the sound of herself. Not in front of someone, not in front of her, of all people her, don’t—

Celia watched. She knew exactly what her trapped friend was feeling, and why she was feeling it. The problem is, she doesn’t. She hasn’t been able to get off all week because she hasn’t been able to feel THAT, even in her mind. And she doesn’t even know it, or know why. How can someone live for twenty-four years and not know this stuff about themself?

The pale girl’s hands were balled up, gripping the sheets. Her head had turned to the side. Every time she felt it she tried to move, and every time she moved she felt it more. Then her hips started to move too, and once it started there—she panicked, but the panic just made it worse—

Not in front of Celia, anyone but her—

“Allie, inside the cotton cloud you can see two hands starting to form. They’re hands that belong to someone you know. They’re reaching down towards you now, Allie. You recognize them. They’re the hands of someone you want to hold you down. I know because you told me. You’ve dreamed of those hands holding you down, many times. Am I wrong?

“Allison, whose hands are they?”

She whined, her body trying to somehow bury itself in the bed, but said nothing.

“You know whose hands they are, you can see them. We can get this over with right now if you can just try and remember, and tell me whose they are.”

Nothing.

“All right,” Celia said, “I can’t make you tell me, not if you really don’t want to. I wasn’t trying to embarass you, really baby. I just thought this would be easier.

“We’re going to go back to Thursday night now. Close your eyes.”

The phone rang. Allison stretched to get it.

I already remember this part.

We’re just starting here, k? I wanted to start someplace you remembered, earlier that night, to give you an anchor before moving on.

“Yeah?”

“How would you like to be my senior thesis?” Celia’s voice dripped through the receiver like honey, deep as a cavern and twice as dark.

“Be it how. Gilmore Girls is on.”

“I have a thing due tomorrow that I haven’t really worked on much.”

“How not much?”

“At all.”

“Are you trying to come back for a fifth year?”

“Look, covergirl, I’ve got all sorts of stuff going on. I can’t be worrying about the little things.”

Allison rolled her eyes.

“You’ll really be bailing me out here,” the deeper voice said.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Come over.”

“And what?”

“Just come over. I’ll explain the rest, but I need you here.”

“Gee, I dunno. After this there’s a Firefly marathon on sci-fi.”

“It would really, really help me out, Allie. Really really. I know you’re probably busy, but if you come, you’ll literally be saving my life.”

“Do you know what the word literally means? Cause English is my major, and I can tell ya.”

“Yes, and if I screw up this project I’ve screwed up four years of college, screwed up my future, and screwed up my life, so yes, if you help me, you’ll literally be saving my life.”

Don’t fuck with an English major, they thought in unison.

“All right. When Gilmore Girls is over, k?”

“Absolutely! I wouldn’t stand in the way of quality brunette viewing.”

They hung up.

Great, maybe now we can go through our entire email history too.

Shut up, or I really will make you dance around like a chicken.

A half hour later, Allison knocked on her dark friend’s door. Her stomach tightened, just for a split second, as her knuckles struck the wood. It always did that before she saw Celia. Then it was gone. She didn’t think about it consciously; she never did. It came and went so fast.

The door opened.

“Mango margaritas!” Celia stood there, wrapped in a sari, her chestnut hair held up with some chopsticks. The “dress” clung to her impossibly; it looked like it should have slid right off, but stayed on by some fluke of gravity. A frozen pink drink was in each hand. There were little umbrellas in them.

“You know, mango margaritas are probably the reason you’re doing your senior thesis the night before it’s due.”

“I’ve got all the writing done. Had it done for months. I just don’t have my presentation done. Come in!”

The apartment was all deep reds and golds, and smelled like lavender and rose. They went to the kitchen.

“K, so, my thesis is on the practical benefits of hypnosis. And the premise is that I’ve been hypnotising a subject twice a week, all semester, to bring in for a demonstration tomorrow.”

Allison paused. Come on now, she told herself, don’t pretend you didn’t know what your best friend’s major was.

“But you haven’t,” she said flatly.

“No. That’s why I need you.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Dead serious. I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“Yeah, it is.”

“—but you would be helping me out so incredibly hugely that there aren’t even words to describe how much I’d owe you.”

“Celia...” Allison sat down at the kitchen table. “God, you really drive me nuts sometimes. Really, in a not-kidding-at-all way.”

“A lot of people are nervous about being hypnotised for the first time, that’s perfectly normal—”

“It’s not even that. Well, it is that,” her stomach made another knot that was gone before she realized it was there, “but it’s not just that. Number one, I’m not an expert, but I’m assuming your professor is. Won’t he be able to tell the difference between someone you’ve been working on all year and someone doing it for the first time?”

“That’s why I had you come over tonight. So we could practice.”

“Yeah, ok, but number two... I don’t think I could do that in front of a room full of people, Celia, not even for you. Alone with you, maybe, but not in front of a crowd.”

“I know, a lot of people are like that. That’s kind of one of the reasons I was supposed to be prepping them all year.”

“Good job!”

“How about this. We’ll do it tonight, and if you’re still nervous about it in the morning, I’ll explain that to the professor and tell him we’ve got to do it privately.”

Allison took a drink and sat back. She regarded the woman across the table.

“What do I have to do.”

“Well first you gotta loosen up! That’s what these are for.” Celia jiggled the pink glass.

“And then?”

“Then is then! First things first. I got us a movie, we’ll just chill for a little while, then we’ll start. Ok? Don’t look so nervous! There is absolutely not a thing to be nervous about, I promise.”

The drink...

Yeah, sorry about that.

Then it was later; they were on the couch. The movie was The Godfather: a movie with a slow pace that they’d both seen plenty of times. Allison’s chest felt tight. Something that she couldn’t put her finger on, something about going into a trance, something about having Celia be the one to do it, got her in knots. It itched at the sides of her mind. She feigned interest in the conversation, but her laugh was forced.

Then, the exact opposite. She laughed out loud at the horse head scene. Suddenly, the idea of a dead horse in someone’s bed was the funniest thing in the world. She put a hand over her mouth.

The camerawork was absolutely dreamy. It was so still, but it moved. It was the best goddamn camerawork she’d ever seen.

“This is the best goddamn camerawork I’ve ever seen,” she said.

“Yeah, I hear this movie won some award or something.”

The voices on screen sounded deeper. The light alternated from too bright to too dark for a moment. She lost track of the scene, then picked it up again; but this time, she couldn’t keep track of the context of the scene. The actors were moving, and talking, but when one spoke it seemed independent of the scene. What they said made sense, but it seemed to exist all by itself: just a voice, or a movement, not a story. The pictures and sounds were beautiful, but they were in a bubble that never stretched beyond the moment they were in. When one character shouted, she recoiled; when another smiled, the entire room shifted to warm tones.

“Those cars. They’re all like batmobiles. Look at em. Or beetles. Big beetles, with men in them. A beetle with the brain of a man. It’s like some... lame superhero,” she giggled for a half second, then was back to the movie abruptly, mid-laugh.

She knew this feeling. Or at least, she knew a feeling like it.

“Celia...”

“Yeah, sweety?”

“Was there something in that drink besides... pink?”

“Yeah,” Celia’s honeyed voice said matter-of-factly, “Do you mind?” It was such an absurd thing to say, but the way she said it made it sound normal. Allison considered.

“I... mind the fact that I don’t seem to mind.”

“Interesting answer.”

“I mind in principle. But I’m not feeling the... minding. And I mind that.”

“Yes, I got it sweety,” Celia laughed.

“Celia... why was there something in my drink?” Allison let her head flop to the side to look at her raven-haired friend. Celia looked like some Indian princess, sitting there with her legs just so. She was watching Allison closely.

“We’ve got to make up for a whole year’s time in just one night, honey. To do that, I need to be able to bring you very deep, deeper than anyone usually goes on their first time. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to without some chemical help. So I gave you the teeniest, tiniest little bit of something to help you relax. Almost nothing.”

“You could have asked... I would have said yes.”

“I thought you would,” she reached out with one tanned arm and put a hand on Allison’s cheek, “but you looked so freaked out. I wasn’t sure. And now you’re not looking freaked out, which is what we needed. How are you feeling?”

“Nice. Kinda... floaty. Havin trouble keepin track of the movie. The guy is angry about something, can’t remember what.” The hand on her cheek felt like a living thing. It was a living thing, duh. But more alive.

Celia smiled softly.

“Let’s get started.”

Allison sighed as the hand left her face.

Celia, I’m... I’m havin a hard time, I’m... it’s getting fuzzy.

It’s getting fuzzy because your perceptions were fuzzy at the time. It’s all right, don’t try to remember every little thing, just try to let the events come like they would in a normal, conscious memory.

Celia moved the coffee table and pulled a chair over.

“All right, lie back and get as comfortable as possible. Here,” she handed Allison a small pillow, “that’ll be more comfy than the arm of the couch. Toss me your sweater; it’s winter out there, not in here. Now just let your arms rest at your sides, or on your stomach.”

Allison did as she was told. Her auburn hair spilled across the small pillow, chaotic but perfect as she settled, and her thin neck found its place in the pillow easily. She looked up at her friend with eyes that nearly glowed; they actually seemed larger; her skin looked pinker. Celia knew that was just the drug, but the effect was startling. Allison wiggled her toes.

“Are you gonna make me bark like a dog?” she asked so sincerely that Celia laughed out loud.

“Not unless you want to bark like a dog. Then, something can be arranged, when we’re done. I can’t make you do anything you wouldn’t normally do. That’s important to remember, so don’t worry.”

The pale girl seemed to freeze for a moment. The thing itched at her memory again, making her stomach flutter. Why did the phrase what you would normally do do that? She knew what she would normally do. It was what she did every day. Duh. Anything besides that, she wouldn’t do. The flutter in her stomach left as she forced the thought away effortlessly. She didn’t know it, but she had practiced that mental push thousands upon thousands of times throughout her life.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. I trust you.” Allison opened her eyes and looked up with what could only be described as doe-eyes.

“All right. Now find a point on the ceiling to look at, someplace right above your eyes so you don’t have to strain to see it. Take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Notice how sharp the point is; it stands out against everything around it. As you do, think about how your toes are starting to relax. They relax starting at the very tips, and it moves slowly down into your feet. Keep watching the point, and feel the arches of your feet relax.

“Take another deep breath, slowly, eyes on that point, and feel how the relaxation spreads all through your feet and up to your ankles. Your feet are just sort of hanging there now with no muscles to hold them up, but that’s ok, the couch holds them up safely. The couch will hold all of you up safely as the wonderful relaxed feeling moves up your legs, into your calves.

“The longer you stare at the point, the more everything around it will blur—that’s ok, that’s natural. It’s like when you go fishing and you stare at the bobber for so long that the water starts to fade away. That’s ok, and the point will come more and more into focus as the feeling moves up your legs, into your knees. Everything from your knees down will just hang there, totally limp, with no muscles in it at all, and just the couch cushions holding it up.

“As it moves higher, through your thighs, and as you feel your breathing in a perfectly slow, natural rhythm, you may feel the need to blink; that’s ok, blink when you need to. As your thighs relax, it will seem more and more like the point is the only thing you can see, but you can see it with perfect sharpness, like it’s been cut out of reality and is there just for you.

“Your thighs are totally limp now, and everything from your hips down lays bonelessly against the cushions, and even though you feel like you want to sink down through it, even though you feel like you are sinking down through it, it holds you up, safely and comfortably.”

It was around this part that I began to realize you were a Natural, and that the drug had been overkill. Waaay overkill. You didn’t need it. You listened to every word like it was gospel, and honestly, I think you were under before we even got to your knees. You were so—Allison?

Allie? You there?

Yeah...

What are you doing?

Watching... feeling legs... like you said...

No, we’re just remembering this, you’re not supposed to... holy cow. We’re going back to the present now. I’m going to count backwards from five to one and when I reach one...

“One, eyes open, back in the present.”

“Mmm,” Allison smiled goofily, draping two white arms over her head, grinning under them, then stretching. She wasn’t blushing anymore, but she was still somehow glowing. The cotton cloud was nowhere to be seen, but she didn’t try to get up.

“You are somethin’ else,” Celia looked down at her with a kind awe.

“I feel nice.”

“I noticed.”

“Why’d we leave?”

“Because, as I was just trying to explain and as you just so aptly demonstrated, you’re a Natural. As in, a natural somnambulist.”

“Bein a natural somnawhatever feels nice.” She took a breath and let it out happily.

“It means that you go into a trance much more easily than most people. About ten to twenty percent of the population are natural somnambulists, by most estimates. Personally, I think it’s more like five percent for true Naturals, but anyway. You definitely are one. Which I was planning to demonstrate to you later, but which you went and demonstrated yourself just now. Just reliving the memory of being hypnotised almost put you under. That doesn’t surprise you?”

“Maybe you’re just that good.” She stuck her tongue out.

“I’m not that good. Ok, maybe I am. But it’s you too.”

“So, what, does that mean anyone on the street could hypnotise me?”

“No, but it means most skilled hypnotists could put you under pretty easily. So if you met a skilled hypnotist on the street, then yeah.” The brunette inwardly grimaced at the idea of some dime-show hack putting her Allison to sleep. “That, combined with the drink, made you go far deeper than I even thought was possible on a first attempt. It also made the suggestions that much stronger.”

“K. Can we see the rest now?”

Celia sighed. Her best friend, cute as she was, was not taking this seriously.

“Yes,” Celia said. “But if you start feeling strange again, like you’re slipping, I want you to tell me, ok?”

“Right away. I hate feelin good. If I start to, I’ll tell you right away so you can stop it.”

“I’m serious.”

“Aye aye!”

You’re gonna have to watch her, the whole time.

“All right. We’re going back to Thursday night again. And we’re gonna fast forward a bit.”

“...and when we walk in, you’re going to block the rest of the class out. It will be like they’re not even there. You will only hear my voice. I’ll ask you to do a few things, like raise your arm and do some complicated math in your head. It will be a short presentation, maybe fifteen minutes. Then I’ll walk you to the door and fully wake you in the hall, and you can go home.”

Aww, why’d we skip the rest of the relaxy bit?

I think you know why we skipped the rest of the relaxy bit.

“All right! That’s it for now,” the deeper woman’s voice said. “How do you feel?”

“Great. Bendy.”

“You did great, sweety. Do you have any questions before we wake up?”

“Mmmno. Thanks for this. Always wanted you to,” the lighter voice said softly.

“All right, then we’re going to... wait, what? Always wanted me to what?”

“Always wanted you to hypnotise me.”

Celia sat back. Allison lay placidly on the couch, eyes closed, her pink lips parted just slightly, the way she’d been for the last hour. Her chest rose and fell in an even rhythm beneath her shirt.

“You’ve always wanted me to hypnotise you?”

“Always wanted... anyone to. But especially you.”

“Why?”

“It feels nice.”

“Have you ever done it before?”

“No.”

“So how do you know how it feels?”

“In my head, it feels nice.”

Celia hesitated. She felt she was on the brink of breaching some ethics. Yes, she was just asking innocent questions, and getting innocent answers, but they hadn’t agreed on a Q&A session beforehand.

Still, something in the way Allison said it feels nice piqued her interest. She hadn’t said it in the way someone says sunny days are nice. There’d been something else there. Was it her business to find out what it was?

No, but she was going to.

It wasn’t a breach of ethics, it was education. Hell, this was her senior thesis. She wouldn’t cross any boundaries, she decided. It’s important to know what you subject’s impressions of hypnosis are, right? Right.

“In your head, how have you imagined it? Before tonight.”

“Lots of different ways. I’ll be at the mall, and a man will walk up to me, and hold something in front of my face, and it will make a bright flash, like in the movies, and my head will turn to mush... then, I follow him out of the mall.”

Well, there was no law that said dreams had to be realistic, Celia thought. She waited, but her freckled friend did not continue.

“Is that it?” she asked.

“That’s all... it’s usually quick like that, if it’s a man. It’s usually longer if it’s a woman.”

“Tell me one of the dreams involving a woman.”

The girl on the couch squirmed.

“You’ll think I’m weird...”

“It’s ok,” Celia said quickly (quicker than she’d meant to), “You’re not weird, dreaming about this sort of thing is perfectly normal. Even if you were weird, I would never judge you. Now just relax, and focus, knowing that you’re in a safe place where you can say anything, and can think anything.”

The girl sighed, and began speaking:

“I’ll be in a store... a woman will walk up to me and offer to help me with something... she says she works there, but she doesn’t. She takes me to a back room, then she locks the door, and spins around and grabs me... she grabs me by the arms, right in that spot where Egyptian princesses wore their arm bands...”

Celia knew exactly where that spot was.

“She pushes me down, holding my arms tight, in that spot... then she... presses me against the floor, using her whole body... and wraps her legs around my thighs, crossing them in back... she locks her ankles together and squeezes, so I can’t move. I try to get away, because I know I can’t. She squeezes tight, but her legs are so soft, it doesn’t hurt.”

Barely perceptibly, Allison’s legs began moving against each other as she spoke. Celia’s breath caught in her throat. It was her thighs... Allison was rubbing her thighs together.

“She tells me that she’s going to tie me up, but she says I won’t remember... she tells me she can make me not remember, and then she tells me to look into her eyes, and listen to her voice... I try to struggle but I feel weak... she’s so strong and I feel weak...

“Then she wraps her arms around mine, pinning them to my sides, pulling my chest against hers... every time I move it just gives her a better grip, like a snake, like a boa constrictor... she stops just short of cutting off my breathing, and when she looks at me, I know that she could if she wanted to. She wants me to know it.

“The only thing I can do is turn my head to the side, so I do... but she squeezes again and the air leaves me, it’s just for a second, just to remind me, then she lets me breathe again... there’s no choice, I look up, her eyes are right above mine... I can feel her breathing, her breasts rising and falling against me slowly, I can feel her heart... she’s breathing slowly because she’s calm, she’s in control and she knows it, and I start breathing slower too...

“She starts talking, and I listen, there’s no choice... she tells me to relax my body, that if I don’t she’ll be able to feel it... so I do, my body goes limp as a rag, and I can’t feel the floor anymore, just her arms and legs... she tells me not to try and look away from her eyes... and then I’m falling... the only thing I can feel is her and I’m falling...”

Her arms were pressed against her sides, her hands clenching and releasing, her thighs pressed together as if some invisible force was wrapped around her. Her legs slid against each other as if she only had an inch of room to move. But within that inch... she moved. And how. Celia gaped.

Don’t get up, she told herself, ‘cause if you do, you might see a wet spot on your chair, and then you’ll just lose it.

Allison even seemed to be taking shallow breaths, though whether that was because of the invisible woman wrapped around her, or for some other reason, was unclear. She’d even let out an involuntary sound when the fantasy woman had grabbed her; it could only be described as “meep!”. The sound, and the look on her face when she’d made it, was so impossibly cute as to break some law of physics.

Ethics. Yeah. Maybe later.

Eventually Allison settled and became still again. Her breathing returned to normal. Celia crossed and uncrossed her legs beneath her makeshift dress. It was held together with a pin on her left shoulder, and the pin had dug into her skin; she’d been leaning forward without realizing it.

“Allison,” Celia tried to control her voice, “Do you ever have any daydreams like that about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What happens in them?”

“Can’t tell you. Feel weird,” she blushed. “You’ll think I’m weird.”

Celia’s heart was beating.

“Allison, I’m going to count back from five to one. When I reach one, I will no longer be in the room. You’ll still be able to hear my voice, but Celia will no longer be in the room. It will just be you and the voice in your head.

“Five, Celia’s getting her stuff and leaving; four, she’s saying goodbye; three, you’re alone; two, you look around and feel comfortable knowing you’re alone; one... just you and the voice. You can say and do whatever you want, because you’re alone and it’s just a voice in your mind.

“Allison, in your daydreams, does Celia ever do anything like that woman did?”

“No,” she smiled wistfully, “she doesn’t need to. Celia’s so good, she doesn’t have to. Her voice is like... a slow river. She could stop someone’s heart from across the room if she wanted to. She’s magic.”

Someone’s heart stopped all right.

“What are the dreams like?”

“They’re more... intense. And shorter, because as soon as she touches me, I...” her eyes rolled beneath her eyeslids, and her body seemed to tighten for an instant. “I don’t get to finish... usually.”

Let’s just not even think about whatever THAT meant, Celia thought. She cleared her throat.

“What else?”

“They’re... floaty.”

Celia almost laughed out loud.

“Is there one dream you have more than the others?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m in the library. Celia walks in, wearing one of those... things she wears. She’s so beautiful, everything she wears looks so... regal. Her dress holds on to her body like it wants to be there. It’s all red and deep purple and it moves when she walks. It shows off her arms, and they look strong even though they’re soft. They look like she could just grab me, if she wanted to, and...

“She sits down at the table and starts talking to me, staring at me. I can’t help looking at her eyes. They’re usually dark brown, like root beer, but sometimes they look almost black.

“In real life she doesn’t know how beautiful she is, but in the dreams she knows.”

Celia dropped her notebook.

“She’s talking about something, but I’m not listening to the words. I’m just listening to the sound, like a song you don’t know the words to. Every time she moves it’s almost painful, because every move pulls the dress against her curves in a different way. It bunches up against her hips when she shifts her weight, and it pulls tight against her stomach when she leans over. She’s not even doing it on purpose, it’s just her being magic like she always is.

“I start to get nervous, and I decide to leave; I get worried she’s going to notice what I’m... thinking. But she stops me. She takes my hand as I get up and draws me back down.

“She seems to know... and she tells me to stay, that she has something to tell me, and to just chill out and listen. Her voice is gravelly, like Kathleen Turner’s in that movie. The sound of her voice makes me think of molasses dripping down a slide. So I look, and listen... I can’t help it. I want to listen, I love listening to her, but I couldn’t help it even if I wanted to, and thinking about that makes me...”

Allison’s head turned back on the pillow. Her ivory limbs began straining against the couch without direction, one hand digging into the fabric.

Celia swallowed.

“Thinking that makes you what?” she whispered.

“...makes me feel this sinking feeling, like letting go, and she knows it and she leans over me... I can smell her perfume, and her face is so close, I can see every detail. Her lips are perfect, and her nose, and her hair is up so I can see her neck.

“She starts rubbing the palms of my hands with her thumbs in these little circles, these little, slow circles. The way she does it makes it feel like there are no bones in my hands, like they turned to rubber. It’s such a subtle thing, she presses so gently, but she’s hitting a pressure point or something, and... and it’s like my whole body is in my hands, they’re connected to everything.

“It moves up my arms, I can feel it pass my elbows and go up the backs of my arms, and the little hairs stand up... and when it gets to my shoulders my body just lets go and my head falls back against the chair.”

Her body twisted once, slowly, writhing in waves from the hips outward as she spoke.

“She watches me for a long time, making me just sit and look at her, and then she leans closer and she tells me that whatever happens is ok, because I’m going to forget... I don’t want to forget, that’s the only thing I don’t really want to do, but she tells me I will and I know it’s true. I want to ask her to let me remember, but I can’t talk, my chest lets the air out without any words... and then she leans closer...

“She smiles, and I feel like I’m dying, like I’m fading away, and everything else fades away too, and it’s just her. She’s so close that I could taste her if I could move. Then she takes my chin in her hand, and turns my head up... My neck is like water... and her hand, it’s like there’s a heat radiating from it...”

Her body jerked suddenly as she sucked in a breath, her stomach flexing.

“And she seems to wait there for an eternity, with her lips so close I can feel the heat from them... the waiting, it’s awful, it’s like my insides are twisting around... and I try to hold on because I don’t want to slip away before she... before she...

“And then her lips touch mine... and... the light explodes, I explode, it’s like the light from everywhere is flowing into me...”

She began to shudder, one arm flailing in slow motion, the other gripping her own skirt, both legs flexing and releasing in little halfhearted kicks, like she was walking backwards underwater. Her hips ground into the couch and she began to make an unintelligible sound, a moaning and mewling. Every visible patch of her ivory skin blushed pink.

“I can’t... and she... her lips are like...”

The last syllable faded into a choking sound as, somewhere in her mind, her dreams of what those lips felt like became real. Her back arched.

She seemed to stop breathing entirely. The tendons on her neck stood out, and for one split second her entire body went taut, like a wire... then released, collapsing back onto the couch like a guitar string breaking. She lay there for a long time, speaking half-whispered words that Celia couldn’t hear.

Gradually, the words became audible again:

“...she tells me to forget. I don’t want to but she makes me, I know it’s for the best but I still don’t want to, I want to remember, all the time, I want to feel her lips forever... but she says forget, and then...” her face looked pained for a moment, before going blank.

“Then it’s all gone.”

Her chest hitched once, then slowly slipped back into its regular rise and fall.

Celia tried to control her own breathing. Her heart was rattling in her ears. She watched, waiting for Allison to continue. But her friend simply lay there, breathing placidly. The blush was fading from her fair skin as quickly as it had come.

Her best friend did not just have an orgasm on her couch while describing a fantasy involving her. While describing a single... kiss. These things don’t happen. Kisses aren’t that powerful. Daydreams aren’t that powerful.

Yet she knew that, if she rolled the limp girl over, she would find a wet spot on the couch. And she no longer had to get up to know what her own chair would look like—she could feel it.

What she needed was a cold shower. She needed a minute to think.

“Allison,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, “I want you to imagine something different for a little while. Imagine your favorite episode of your favorite TV show. Try to remember it from beginning to end. I’m going to be quiet for a little while, but I’ll still be here.”

“Firefly!” Allison sighed. “Zoe is so awesome. She’s like an Amazon.”

“Yes, well try not to think so much about... Amazons, and just imagine the show from beginning to end, going through every scene.”

Allison’s face melted into the most dumbly happy expression she had ever seen.

Celia stood up and looked over her inert friend. When she was satisfied that the girl was deeply in the memory, she went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She undid the pin on her shoulder and the wrap slid off easily, piling on the floor around her feet. She kicked it into the corner, wincing as, for just a split second, her foot touched dampness. Don’t even think it, she told herself. Your best friend is out there in one of the deepest trances you’ve ever seen, so don’t even think it. You need to get out there before her mind wanders too far and she starts humping the couch again. Cold water, now.

When the water was almost too cold to stand, she took the shower head in one hand and got in, rinsing herself off quickly. You know there’s only one spot that really needs washing, she thought. Just do it quick and it’ll be ok. Think about baseball and do it quick. She counted to three.

Her knees almost buckled when the water hit her. Baseball, tax returns, sandwich meat left in the fridge for too long. Eew. Good, that worked. Now hurry up, because Allison is out there with that goofy blank look on her face, waiting for your voice and probably writhing al—

Then her knees did buckle. She caught herself with one arm, barely, as she slid down into the tub, and held herself there, shaking. The worst part was that she knew she’d just undone whatever washing she’d accomplished. Now she’d have to do it again.

Ok. Ice cold water, so cold it almost hurts. She turned off the hot water completely, and jumped as the frigid water hit her. That did the trick. She toweled off, put on a bathrobe, then got another towel for the chair before going back out.

Allison hadn’t moved. She’s such a good subject, Celia thought. A total natural, and you went and drugged her. Well, there’d been no way of knowing. You just better make sure you wake her all the way up. Being that deep, she might stay that way for who knows how long. She smoothed the robe across her lap.

“Allison, I’m back. You can stop imagining the show now.”

“Was just gettin to a good part...”

“Sorry sweety. I have a few more questions to ask you. Allison, I understand why you didn’t want to share the dreams now, but why didn’t you ever ask Celia to hypnotise you, if that’s what you wanted?”

“Cause I don’t ever think about it after the daydreams go,” she said. “I push them out, like you do if you see something really scary, so you won’t have to think about it.”

“You don’t think about them, even a little?”

“If I even start to think about thinking about them, I push it out. It happens on its own now, I don’t even have to try.”

Now this would be a grade A thesis, Celia thought. She takes repressed memories to a new level. But she wasn’t going to parade her best friend’s innermost fantasies in front of a class.

“Sweety, why are you so scared of thinking of these things?”

“Because everyone I know would think I was a freak... and especially Celia. I’d rather not even think it than to risk not having her around.”

Celia’s heart fluttered, but she controlled it.

“Allison, in a moment Celia is going to walk back in, so just let everything you’re not comfortable telling her slide out of your mind. It slides out, just like it always does. Take in a breath, and when you let it out, the memory goes with it.”

Allison sighed, as if the memory were visibly leaving her.

“The door opens, and Celia walks in. She sits down next to you, in the same place she was before. Only this time, she’s—” Celia managed to blush through her perpetual Mediterranean tan—“This time she’s wearing a bathrobe. Cause it’s the middle of the night and that’s what people wear at night, duh. The voice becomes hers again. It’s mine again. It’s my voice.”

“Hey baby!”

“Heya sunshine. You’ve been doing great so far. There are just a few more things to do. I’m going to say some words. You will remember these words, you’ll never forget them, but you will remember them in the back of your mind. You won’t think of them consciously, but they’ll be there.

“The first words are cavern deep. Whenever I, and only I, say those words, you will return to the state you’re in now. Your body will become completely relaxed and limp, just like it is now, and your mind will become relaxed too, and empty of all thoughts, just listening to my voice and doing nothing else. Just like it is right now. You will never forget those words, cavern deep.“

Why give me a trigger if you didn’t plan on messing with me?

It wasn’t to mess with you, baby. It was in case of emergency, like today, and it was also so we could explore this more later. And I think that’s enough for now. We’ve hit all the important parts. We’re going back to the present now.

“After that, I gave you another trigger and had you forget everything that didn’t have to do with the class.”

Alison was crying.

“None of that’s true, you’re just making me think it is. I wouldn’t... I’m not... I’m not a lesbian! I was in my church’s choir for twelve fucking years! I’m a straight A student!“ She broke out in sobs: choking, rasping sobs. What being a straight A student had to do with being a lesbian Celia didn’t know, but the girl was working through some intense stuff, so she could be forgiven for not exactly making sense.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Celia said quietly. “You know that.”

“I... don’t... know... anything!“ She was becoming hysterical.

She’s gonna hyperventilate. Do something.

“Cavern Deep.”

Allison’s eyes rolled up and closed. The strength went out of her body visibly and she melted against the bed. One lock of hair lay across her forehead and down over her thin nose.

“Allison, take some deep breaths. It’s ok to be upset, or confused, but if you feel yourself starting to get that upset again, just take a deep breath and try to calm down. Hyperventilating ain’t good for you. Now, I’m going to count back from five, and when I reach one, you will wake up, feeling calm and rational.

“...one.”

Her eyes opened.

“Now look,” the lower voice said, “I have a good reason for putting you through this. When I met you, you had a boyfriend.”

“Todd. The asshole.”

“Yeah. How long were you with him?”

“About five years.”

“Five years with a guy you hated.”

“Yeah.”

“With an abusive asshole with approximately no redeeming values.”

“That’s about it, yeah.”

“With a guy who deserves an icepick in the ear instead of beautiful girls like you.”

“I get it.”

“Sweety. Pumpkin. Lambchop. Why doesn’t that seem strange to you?”

“Well, he had his... qualities.”

“Like what?”

“Well, he was a good driver.”

Celia actually gave herself a tiny little headache by rolling her eyes so far.

“And he was really good at home repairs, like spackling and painting,” Allison went on.

“Because he liked to punch holes in walls.”

“There’s that, yeah.”

“Why did you stay with him? He didn’t ever hypnotise you or anything, did he? Because with you being such a Natural, it’s actually possible.”

“No, he was too dumb for that. But he had a way of talking... a way of touching me... that made my head go all funny, like it does when you put me under. I don’t even think he knew he was doing it. He just assumed that he was that awesome.”

Celia laughed.

“Really,” Allison said, beginning to smile again, “I think he just thought he was the most awesome thing on the planet, and that’s why I would go all loopy. But I couldn’t stop myself. He would give me these long backrubs, or we’d go for these long drives through the country and he’d describe the scenery. It was the most boring thing in the world, but sitting back against the car seat, the motor running, the trees drifting by, listening to him talk... after a while, my head would go all funny. My eyes would turn all fuzzy. Then I’d just sort of be hanging on him for the rest of the day, which usually ended with sex at his place.

“It didn’t have to be the car, or a backrub. It could be something as simple as watching a baseball game with him describing every play. After a while it was always the same: I’d feel like I was slipping, that empty feeling of something detaching... then we’d be having sex. Once I slipped it was like I was someone else, watching things happen without any real involvement. And since he was such a horndog, he always brought it around to sex.

“I tried to leave him once, but then he called me. He wanted to appologize. I don’t know why I didn’t hang up right then, but I didn’t. Then he starts talking in that boring, drawn out way of his, listing all the things he loves about me, and when I start to slip the phone just stays against my ear, cause I’m lying in bed. Next thing I knew it was the next morning and I was at his place. I think that’s when he realized that I would kind of fade out sometimes, even if he didn’t know how it worked.

“After that he had me tell him all the things I thought but, you know, didn’t really think, like I told you... and then whenever I wanted to leave, he’d do something from one of the dreams, because he knew what it would do to me.

“So yeah. That was our relationship. Do you think I’m a spaz?” Allison looked up, biting her lower lip. Celia took her hand.

“I think that he wasn’t quite as dumb as you thought he was. And I think I understand you a lot better now. But your spazziness is unrelated.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“How did you end up getting away from him?”

“I didn’t. He got bored and left me for a waitress at Denny’s.”

“Well, you’re lucky. If he’d decided to keep you, you might not have ever gotten away. And that, class, is why I made you go through all of this today. Because if you didn’t get to know yourself, someone else might come along who can manipulate you like that, and this time it might last for the rest of your life.”

Allison sniffled, but smiled.

“You were right. I’m so sorry I yelled at you and called you all that... stuff.”

“It’s ok. Whenever someone tells me I’m wrong, I assume they must be hysterical.”

“So what do I do?”

“First,” Celia held Allison’s hand between both of her own, “I’d like to give you some permanent suggestions, so that if your ex-creep ever calls you again, you won’t turn into a wobbly-headed doll.” Even though you look so freaking adorable when you do. “And also, a suggestion that if you start to slip when I’m not around, you’ll snap out of it and call me.” She leaned over and looked directly into Allison’s eyes. “I don’t trust anyone with your head but me.”

Allison beamed.

“Of course, it’s ok if it’s someone you trust, or something you want,” Celia went on, her voice dropping a notch. She hoped that Allison wouldn’t notice that her palms were getting sweaty, or feel how her heart was speeding up. “It would just be protection against the other kind.”

“No, it’s a good idea,” Allison sighed. “You’re so awesome to me. It’s like having my own personal superhero. But better dressed.”

“I am pretty great, aren’t I.”

Allison leaned up on her elbows. Her spaghetti tank had bunched up around her stomach from all of the falling and wiggling over the past hour. The two girls looked at each other.

This is it, Celia thought. It’s now or never. You gave her the freedom to resist. The ethics police aren’t going to bug you when you try to sleep at night. It’s now or—

Allison’s watch beeped.

“Holy shit, it’s four already? My last class is starting.”

No, no!

“It’s almost the end of the semester. I’ve gotta make this one.” She pouted.

Stop her!

Allison jumped up and began gathering her things, which had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor earlier. The afternoon sun caught in her hair and lit up the red highlights as her head bobbed in and out of the slanting ray.

“I’m going to run to class, and then I’m going to run right back here, k?”

She’s going to walk out that door and then your moment will be gone forever! Do something!

Celia stood up.

“I feel like such a douche, running out right now. I owe you so much,” Allison spun around, the blush still lingering on her cheeks, and threw her thin arms around the darker girl’s neck, hugging her. Their cheeks pressed together. “I really do. Celia?”

She still hadn’t spoken.

“Celia? Baby?” She loosened her grip and leaned back. Celia was staring at her with a mix of affection and... what? “Say something, I’ve got to—”

Then she felt the hands on her arms. Celia’s hands were on her arms, right in that spot where... Egyptian princesses wear their armbands. And her grip was tightening.

“Honey, what are you—”

Celia began to turn her, slowly, so that her back was to the bed again. She wasn’t all that much stronger than Allison; the girls were almost exactly the same size; but through years of sports and dance, she knew how to use her body better. The hug was broken as Allison’s arms were pressed to her sides. Celia began to walk her backwards.

“Celia, I’ve got—” she whispered, then felt the bed touch the backs of her knees, and her breath caught in her throat. The bag slipped out of her hand. The dark eyes were staring at her, evenly and unflinchingly. They watched her for an excruciatingly long moment. The position made the tan shoulders look sculpted. “—my class—” Allison’s voice faltered.

“You know, I liked that daydream about the other woman a lot better. Mine was kind of lame,” the husky voice dripped like sap. Her arms were like iron. She began to push back, slowly, so slowly. Allison’s knees buckled as the bed came against the backs of them.

The two girls fell, but it was in slow motion, because Celia wasn’t letting them fall; she was lowering them, using her entire body to keep them from going into freefall. When Allison’s back touched the bed her lips parted, and a tiny, impossibly cute noise escaped her. Her trademark noise. It occurred to Celia that she’d been living for that noise for a long, long time.

Celia let most of her weight rest on her hands, sinking the girl’s shoulders into the mattress. She began to drag herself up the girl’s body, their clothing catching on each other’s, spreading her legs to slide up the outside of Allison’s, encompassing her. Her breasts slid up the girl’s stomach until their eyes met.

“It’s a funny thing about dreams,” Celia rasped, “They’re not very realistic. No one could just flash something in your face and make you follow them like a puppy, and no one pin you down in a department store and put you under. Those things aren’t real. But us, we’re different, because you know that if I say the right words, you will start listening to me, and you will slip away to that place you know so well.”

“Ohmygod,” the words hissed out of Allison faintly, mostly air. Her eyes rolled. Celia spread her legs farther, wrapping them around the girl’s thighs. The heat from her legs was a blanket, soft but unyielding. She pressed her hips down, then up in a sly motion. Allison gasped. Her neck bent back, exposing a throat nearly as white as her shirt.

“I actually can make you weak.” She slipped her legs around the backs of Allison’s thighs, lifting the girl’s knees off the bed slightly, then crossed her ankles in back. She squeezed the girl’s legs together gently, then tighter for a moment. As her thighs touched each other, Allison’s body jerked, and her hips twitched involuntarily: back then up, in that one feminine movement that is older than language. Celia’s eyes nearly crossed as she felt it, but she kept it together.

“Look at me.”

Allison writhed beneath her.

If she keeps doing that you’re gonna lose it—get her to look at you, fastfastfast—

She squeezed their legs tighter.

“Look at me because this...” she tried to control her breathing, “because this part’s important.”

Allison’s eyes fluttered open and locked onto the dark brown eyes inches above her own. They could feel one another’s breath on their lips. Their breasts rose and fell against each other’s, and slowly, the rhythm matched.

“If you don’t want this, you have exactly one second to tell me,” the dark, steady voice wavered for an instant, “because this time, when you wake up, you really will be tied up.”

Allison came, again.

But the second passed, and the only sound in the room was breathing.