House of Hypnosis, Part 2: The Owner
There was another inquiry on the house. Aly looked it over, ticking boxes in her head. The buyer was a woman. The buyer was single. The buyer was ready to do a showing. Aly bit back a grin. It had only been three days since her last scam had come through. That one had put down a deposit of 20%, suckered completely by the historic appeal of the old house. Then, she simply hadn’t shown up for any of the subsequent buyer proceedings. Aly couldn’t testify as to why this was the case. Maybe the buyer had said we gotten cold feet. Maybe something else had come up in their lives and they had simply forgotten to contact Aly about it. Either way, your deposit was forfeit. This was such a perfect situation and Aly couldn’t believe that she was the first person to have tried this trick. After all, what judge across the entire nation would believe that a malevolent house had consumed the buyer, body, mind, and soul, into an erotic netherworld?
Aly herself wouldn’t have believed it before she’d seen it herself. Just last year, one of her clients from the Paule Dewes Agency had disappeared into an impossible doorway as Aly had watched. She always recalled that moment with a shudder. Although the house’s attention was focused upon its immediate victim, Aly had been aware of a sibilant voice whispering in the back of her mind as the house swallowed the woman who had just handed her a check. Deeper, it had whispered. Down, it had said. You are becoming very compliant. You are not afraid. You want to walk forward. Enter the door. Step down. Let your thoughts disappear. It had been all that Aly could do to resist the siren song herself. Even as she did, she saw how her client’s eyes glazed. She saw how her client’s nipples rose like mountains underneath her day blouse. She had watched her client take one step forward down and down into the dreadful well that hadn’t been on any of the houses schematics. The thought haunted her at night...and sometimes, Aly even thought about it while she was masturbating.
She had fled the house, but by the time she’d gotten around to the paperwork, the eager client’s early deposit had cleared. Even though the client herself never resurfaced, she got to keep a portion of the money. For weeks thereafter, Aly had struggled with her options. How did you report something like that? During that time, the house ate more women. Aly watched, fascinated, always struggling to resist, always masturbating as soon as she got home. And yet, people still asked to see it in a steady stream. The house seemed to have a hypnotic draw. Maybe literally, Aly had thought as she watched her third client descend into the depths of the house.
As she had watched the house at work, she had determined the rules. Men sometimes succumbed, their heads off-kilter as their feet carried them down, down, down into the darkness, but they always returned, confused and no longer interested in buying. As far as Aly could determine, they never recollected what had happened to them. Maybe nothing.
The women never came back. The house liked girls. That was fine by Aly. She liked girls, too. She also liked their money. That was why she had marched into the bank after her fifth client had gone missing and ordered her own cashier’s check. The house was hers. She quit the realtor the next day. Then, she re-listed and booked two showings the next week.
With a little creative effort, not to mention the nonexistent mortgage lender whose letterhead she had ginned up from a form on the Internet, she was ready for every deposit. What did it matter that she was only getting 5% of the house’s worth? Something about the place made people want to plug down loads of money for it right away. It had only been six months, and Aly was already well on her way to her first million.
This showing request came with everything that she had learned to recognize as a good sign. The buyer was highly motivated. They were willing to put down money up front. They wanted to see the place that very day. Would Aly expidate the mortgage? Aly’s reply was swift and confident. She tapped into her computer with hands that had long since ceased to shake at the prospect of defrauding, and getting rid of, an innocent homebuyer. Yes, she tapped back. I have already sent you the financing papers. Let’s meet at the property in 45 minutes. I think you’re going to like what you see.
The house, thankfully, always seemed to look its best. Aly gazed up at it with respect. Maybe the best-looking spiders caught the fattest flies, she thought. And here she was, with the best looking spider of all. The noise of an engine startled Aly out of her reverie. She turned to see a slick red Corvette pulling to a stop by the curb. The woman who emerged was the very image of sleek, businesslike powerhouse. Her ample bosom filled out a blazer that had almost certainly been tailored for her body alone, and the pencil skirt that she wore with it hugged her surprisingly sensual hips like a towel at the beach, if there were such a thing as a highly professional towel at a beach. Her face was half obscured by the particular type of bulky sunglasses that seemed to be all the rage with the upper crust. Beneath them, a tiny nose and roselike mouth gave the impression that this petite woman was accustomed to getting her way, and fast, both in the board room and in the bedroom. She strode up to Ally, heels clicking busily against the sidewalk as she held out her right hand. Aly took it as the woman introduced herself. “Karly Shankeer. We spoke online. Thank you for doing this so quickly.“
“Aly Green,“ Aly replied, giving the proffered hand a forceful shake. “I’m just glad that somebody is interested in this old wreck.“ She gestured at the impeccable house, which seemed to blow in the early afternoon light. Karly laughed, a bubbling sound that was surprisingly girlish.
“I don’t see an old wreck,“ she replied, “I see the perfect home for a woman who knows what she wants. Shall we look inside?“
Aly donned her best realtor smile. She had to admit that Karly made her feel a little bit threatened. This was exactly the kind of girl she went for during her lowest moments. Karly was prettier than Ally, stacked, more confident, and almost certainly richer. Aly hated that. She just couldn’t stand a woman who put on airs. At the same time, the attraction was impossible to deny. The sooner the house att this lady, the happier Aly would be. And later, she could masturbate while she thought about the blank, helpless look on her hypnotized face.
As they walked toward the house, Karly slipped a check into Ally’s hand. Surreptitiously, Aly examined it. Half of the entire price of the house was listed on the little beige paper. Aly smiled grimly. She might not like this client, but this client clearly liked her. In fifteen minutes, she’d be $200,000 richer.
As always, the house’s entryway impressed. Karly oohed and aahed over the exposed beams, the stained glass partition in the kitchen, and the spacious rooms. She asked the usual questions about age and upkeep while slowly wandering up toward that one special bedroom, the one Aly made sure to never enter. “What’s up here?“ Karly asked, gesturing toward the bedroom door.
Aly allowed her smile to shine even brighter. “That is the best part of the house,“ she declared. “It’s not just a full sized bedroom, but includes a spacious closet. Would you like to check it out?“
“I would very much like to,“ Karly said, flashing Aly a grin. Aly decided that her instincts were correct. This client liked her very much indeed. She fought down a rising wave of desire. Now was not the time. This woman was for the house.
“I always let clients enter first for the best effect,“ Aly explained. Karly’s smile widened. Aly couldn’t be sure, but that grin seemed a touch wicked. Her heart skipped a little. It wouldn’t be the first time a client tried to seduce her, but was that all she was seeing? What if this were somebody who were investigating her? Had the disappearances been linked to Aly? There was only one thing to do: send Karly into the bowels of the house as soon as possible. Aly hurried forward to open the door to the bedroom. She steeled herself against the hypnotic onslaught, determined not to fall victim herself. Karly inched closer, but stayed out of the room. Now, she was standing close to Aly, but not close enough to the secret door for the house to catch her in its impossible trap. Aly felt a tingle at the back of her neck. Was it arousal or entrancement? Aly could smell the sweet mint on Karly’s breath.
“Aly,“ Karly breathed, “you don’t want to go into this room, do you?“ Aly felt her heart stop fully.
“I don’t know what you mean,“ she replied, struggling to keep the shake out of her voice. Karly smiled the smile of a cat who had finally, after years, captured the family’s pet parakeet.
“I know that you think about this room. You think about the time that you heard it speaking to you, whispering all of those things that you still want to do. To look deep into the darkness of the house. To step down and feel yourself surrender to the darkness as you step, and step down again, going down, down, down, and feeling that you could go down further still the longer you listen to my voice. The longer you listen to my voice, the more you want to step down, deeper and deeper into the deep darkness.“ Aly was trying to follow what Karly was saying, but she was transfixed by the sudden realization that Karly’s glasses were very, very dark. They were such a deep, inky black that she could feel herself being drawn in, stepping down as she’d so longed to do, listening to Karly’s oddly familiar voice as she went down deep into the darkness, stepping down again as she felt the darkness invade her mind and claim its thoughts. Nothing about this seemed unusual or dangerous. It felt too good to surrender to the darkness. “That’s right,“ Karly continued, her voice a soft hiss. “It feels so good to step down, down, down and obey. So obedient. So eager to listen. It’s nice to listen and obey. So sexy to listen. So sexy to obey.”
Ally stepped down, and down, and down again as her pussy tingled and began to moisten. With every step, her thoughts fled, and she willingly walked deeper and deeper into the palpable power of the voice, letting herself get lost in it. She didn’t notice as the last of her will evaporated, nor the shreds of her personality fell away. She was empty. Obedient. Still, she stepped down, down, down in blind obedience to the voice.
She was standing in an opulent parlor. Before her stood the client, the woman to whom she’d been showing the house. There was a quirk to her lips, but Ally’s mind was too empty to understand what it could possibly mean.
“You’ve brought me so many little morsels, my pet,” the woman said, her voice filling Ally’s empty mind. “It’s time for you to join them. You want that. Don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Aly said, her lips hanging open.
“It’s sexy to be mindless. Sexy to be brainwashed. Sexy to give yourself to me without question. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, Mistress.” Aly moaned, pleasure creeping up her body from her source, which was hot and wet.
“Good girl,” the woman crooned. “Get on your knees and beg me to let you taste my cunt.”
Aly fell to her knees and began to whimper. “Please, Mistress,” she begged, “I want to lick your pussy. Let me do it. Please. Please! I’ll do anything for you. It’s all I want. Please let me taste you.”
The woman gazed down at her, unimpressed. “Hmm. Not sexy enough. Do better.”
Aly squirmed out of her blouse and ripped open her bra, exposing her tiny nipples and taut stomach. “Do anything to me, Mistress,” she whispered, rubbing herself lustfully. “Fuck me. Ignore me. Anything. Just let me service you. Let me serve. I want to obey. Please.” She ended by gazing up at the woman through her eyelashes, pouting. Her mind was empty except for one urge: satisfy her Mistress. She had to taste her Mistress’s cunt.
Suddenly Mistress was nude, and her dark pussy was before Aly’s face. She dove for it, pulling herself into it as she held Mistress’s thighs in her arms, questing upward with her tongue. She found the source of the sweetness that dripped from Mistress’s pussy and lapped at it, eager and desperate. Her mind was an empty chasm, yawning wider with every lick as Mistress moaned, moaned again, and finally screamed as she came hard, squirting into Aly’s mouth and leaning on her body.
When Mistress was satisfied, he pulled Aly’s face from between her legs. “Stop now. You are a doll.” Aly collapsed, her strings cut. Mistress’s huge face was before her now, guiding her through a black square and into eternal darkness. As Aly disappeared, the last thread of a thought left to her was the cackle of her Mistress, closing the door behind her.