The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Offer

What would you give to make most every dream you’d ever had come true? Better yet: what would you offer as payment for such a thing to happen? Perhaps you’d like to read over the offer one man made one woman and see if she chose wisely, and whether you’d accept it yourself.

This is a hypnoerotic tale of pure fantasy but it is entirely based in reality—everything in this story is possible, with and without hypnosis. This story has extremely graphic descriptions of some acts of oral sex, so please be aware of this before continuing—if oral sex is not your thing, do not continue. If you are not of appropriate legal age in your area to be allowed to read this type of material, please cease now and go find something else to do.

Comments and feedback are welcome at the email address above as always.

* * *

“So, next Tuesday at 4:30PM, got that, Mrs. Johnson?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s here on the appointment card, thank you again, Mr. Scott. I’m so glad I found you, thank you, thank you,” she said as she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

Mrs. Johnson had just started seeing me to help herself finally quit smoking after 40 years of it. She’d had a medical checkup in the recent past and the Doctors had found some concerns and although they turned out to not be related to her smoking habit, she herself had made a decision to finally quit. After trying a few methods, the nicotine gum, the nicotine patches—there’s a whole other billion dollar industry from those feeding right back into the tobacco companies—a friend had told her to try hypnosis and that’s how she ended up at my practice.

“Remember, call me Paul, and I’ll see you soon, drive safe,” I said as she headed out the front door. I turned to see my assistant Casey grinning from ear to ear.

“What?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders as I said it.

“She’s got a pretty massive crush on you, you do realize that, right?” she offered.

“I suppose, so nobody else till what, 3:30pm today?”

“Yep, looks like, Trish Michaels, that’s how I understood the first name, probably short for Patricia or something. 22 years old, currently studying at...” she said, flipping her notes back a page then forward “Georgetown as an undergrad in their pre-law program. Said she needs help with concentration, focus, studying, relaxing, the usual student-too-busy-to-relax stuff I’d guess.”

“Piece of cake,” I said, waving my hand through the air as if to say it would be done with a flourish.

I’d been a practicing hypnotherapist coming up on 30 years, with the current office setup being my second. My first was with a partner who had moved on to another state about 10 years prior but it was a clean friendly amicable split, no legal or financial issues to speak of. I had plenty of advance notice and he was able to offload some of his clients to me while most pursued other therapists in our area in Silver Spring.

Since the next appointment was over 2 hours out I decided to go grab Casey and I some lunch from Fazoli’s just down the road. She told me what she wanted and I headed out, hopping on the road and listening to some tunes on the satellite radio system in my SUV. My phone beeped and I tapped the control on my steering wheel and got the text displayed on the in-dash HUD projected on my windshield so my eyes wouldn’t really leave the road.


“As if I’d forget that, it’s probably the very best part of Fazoli’s,” I mused to myself. The drive-through at that place during the lunch and afternoon hours was always loaded so I decided to just go inside. I parked, hopped out and almost got clipped by a bright red Mini-Cooper that jetted through the parking lot to take up the spot right next to mine. Out hopped a rather interesting looking young woman, short hair and sunglasses, apparently in a serious hurry. I have a thing for short hair so I always take note of such things, especially when the style matches the face and on this girl it was spot-on.

I saw an opportunity so I made the joke: “I know the breadsticks are seriously awesome, but next time realize I’d like to get some for myself without losing my knees in the process, OK?” and I smiled as best I could.

She stopped, turned, looked at me and then reached up and pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose just a tad. Now, I wasn’t the most handsome guy ever and I knew that. I was a few months out from being 51 years old, at just shy of 6′6″ tall, a big old Teddy Bear as some female friends always referred to me. I had worn a goatee for many years but only recently decided to grow out my beard and trim it with the best skill I could muster. I’d had some gray hair above my ears since I was roughly 15 but at 50 years old it was mostly a silvery-white top to bottom.

I got a full body shot of her as she stepped just past her car: shorts, great legs, lord they truly were awesome legs, fantastic tone, the calves were well developed, a solid tan all over, she was just a knockout really. I might have passed the half-century mark but I was absolutely still a Human male and I got that tingle in the back of my head that matched the slight stirring in the groin.

“OH MY GOD, I’m sorry, really, I just realized what you meant. I apologize, I was talking to someone on the phone and just not paying attention, frazzled today. Are you...” and she nodded to the restaurant.

“Yep, getting lunch for me and my assistant, the drive through as usual is just not tenable.”

She laughed: “Tenable, a most excellent word. Let me buy you some breadsticks for nearly taking you off at the knees.”


I followed her inside and just couldn’t stop staring at those legs, I couldn’t help it. The things I could do with those, both in and out of trance.

Oh, yeah, since I’m a hypnotist and have been for so long, the recreational aspects of using hypnosis for fun and games and yes even the erotic side of things is never lost on me. I literally look at every attractive woman that crosses my path as a potential partner-slash-subject, it just goes with the territory. I won’t apologize for it, however, because I’m Human and it’s who I am.

Inside wasn’t all that much better than the drive-through it seemed. The hostess asked if we wanted a seat and we said ordering to go. She took our orders and then asked for our names and I said Paul when the girl I’d come in with said “Trish.”

Talk about a startle response: I froze. I figured there’s just no way, absolutely no way in the reality I lived in that this was that Trish, the one that would be coming to my office in about 1 hour and 45 minutes. It just wasn’t possible that the Universe I lived in chose to do something this monumentally awesome to me, it just wasn’t.

Or was it?

I felt a poke in my arm as I snapped back in the moment and I turned to where the poke came from.

“You OK there? Kinda drifted off for a few moments, the hostess said we could take a seat. She’s bringing us some iced tea so I hope that’s acceptable.” Trish asked, an inquisitive look on her insanely attractive face.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Yeah, yeah, just kinda had a senior moment there, no worries,” I said as I pointed towards the seats, ladies first. She stepped in front of me again, those damned legs filling my vision once more. I really was starting to get somewhat frustrated at what was happening, it almost felt like the Universe itself was doing a confusion induction on me and I like everything to make sense unless I’m the hypnotist.

We sat and I couldn’t help it, I knew I shouldn’t do it and I knew it would cause problems one way or another but I did it anyway:

“I know this is seriously going to sound like the craziest most off-the-wall thing that’s probably ever happened in your entire lifetime, however long it’s been, but do you believe in the concept that there are no accidents? That everything in the Universe happens for a reason, even if we Humans can’t immediately see the reason for the ‘it’ when it happens?”

Without skipping a beat she replied: “Absolutely.”

“I could be entirely wrong here but if I’m not, well, this is going to blow your mind: Your name is probably Trish Michaels.”

Now the startle response was on her, expressed by the utter look of disbelief, the tensing up, the apprehension, and a half-dozen other emotions that ran the gamut of physical attributes her face went through in all of 5 seconds time. As a highly trained and experienced hypnotherapist, the micro-expressions that all Humans have in our conscious waking hours are as plain to me and people in my trade as a Picasso painting would be on a plain white wall, it’s just that pronounced.

She started to stand up and I mirrored her but I had to act fast: “I’m sorry, really. My name is Paul Scott, and I’m the hypnotherapist you have an appointment with at 3:30PM. No, this wasn’t planned, it couldn’t have been and you know that. I just left my office like 15 minutes ago, it’s just a mile up the road, because my assistant and I wanted lunch and this is our go-to place. I hope you can believe that because it’s 100% true.”

I then pulled out a business card from my back pocket and held it out to her. She started to sit back down slowly, and I did the same, at the same pace. I held the card in my outstretched hand and just let it sit there—she was still staring into my eyes, her facial muscles beginning to relax but I had to wait for it. Finally she let the breath go that she’d been holding onto for the past 20 seconds or so and looked at the card itself. Plain as day in big black letters, my name, and the name of my practice, Scott Hypnotherapy.

“Geezus, you scared the living hell out of me just now, seriously.”

“I have that effect on new clients, yep, hence me having to make them forget me when they leave my office, hypnotic amnesia is a very valuable tool.” I had to do it, had to find a way to shift her out of the tension-laden position she was currently stuck in.

And then she laughed, and I was very grateful for it even before I realized just how sexy it was.

“Better?” I asked, cocking my head to the side just so.

“Yes, thanks, wow, that’s a really strange thing. What are the chances, I mean really. I just got trapped in traffic for like 15 minutes, trying to get here to get some food—I love this place, really. Yes, the breadsticks, to die for, obviously.”

“Yes, I’m well aware and I almost did, if you remember correctly.” Had to do it again, I always look for any and all opportunities to get people to laugh so it had to be done.

Another delightful laugh that set the hairs on the back of my neck on end; it was really glorious to hear. The hostess brought us two iced teas with lemon and some sugar packets and I took mine off the tray as Trish got hers. A sip of mine, not too bad, didn’t really need the sugar so I set those on the little table between our two seats.

“So, what now?” she asked then sipped hers.

“I’ve had some pretty strange things happen in my life, really, but this one, this right here meeting you in this manner, that’s at the top of the list now. I suppose if you’re willing I could ask you some questions, the pre-talk I’d do at my office, if you’re so inclined.”

She sipped her tea again, glanced around, then set her eyes right back on mine: “Shoot.”

“What’s your interest in hypnosis? Casey, my assistant, gave me the short short idea, a student at Georgetown, pre-law as I understand it, probably too much to do in your daily waking hours and not enough of those to be really productive. Probably not sleeping well, not a lot of energy, just too much to do and not enough time to be able to slow down even for a few minutes and just allow yourself to relax, am I right?”

I tried not to use any indirect suggestions because I didn’t know what her actual experience with hypnosis might be. I didn’t want her to think that I was some sick old bastard just looking to covertly trance “the hotties” and get some ass. The one that slipped in at the very end of my statement to her actually did sink in, surprisingly, and she did physically relax as her pupils dilated ever so slightly. Even in that dimmer restaurant lighting I saw it but decided not to pursue further suggestions at that moment.

“Exactly, you nailed it, Mr. Professor. Just too much on my plate, so to speak. I’d love to be able to relax, really I would, but there’s just so much going on all the time, classes, reports, research, I’m well into my 2nd year now and it’s getting to be too much, just too much,” she said, staring into the tea she was holding on top of her legs with both hands. The repeated use of “too much” was pretty obvious: she felt like she was getting close to a breaking point and that could be detrimental to her future. I didn’t know all the details obviously but I felt, like I always do, that I could help.

“Trish, I have to ask if that short for Patricia?”

“Yes, Patricia Sarah Michaels, I’m 22 years old, from Waukesha, Wisconsin. It’s very nice to meet you, informally,” and she reached out to shake my hand.

I actually choked just a tiny bit on the tea I’d just sipped and nearly spilled it on me as I choked. “Are you OK?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m fine, sorry, old hypnotist thing,” I said.

“Pardon?” she asked, cocking her head to one side and it brought a memory back to my consciousness: in the movie “Real Genius” there’s a girl with a bob-style haircut, a total cutie named Jordan played by actress Michelle Meyrink. The character of Jordan is incredibly intelligent but very socially awkward because of it, and so quirky that whenever someone asks her a question or says something confusing she’d cock her head with that short haircut in the same exact way and say that same word, “Pardon?”

I smiled and had to ask: “Have you ever seen the movie ‘Real Genius’?”

“Jordan, yes, of course, that’s where I got that from. That’s very perceptive of you,” she said and then she smiled so crisis averted. “What about the old hypnotist thing, you were about to say something...?”

“What do you know about hypnosis, Trish? Have you ever heard of a handshake induction?” I asked, sipping the tea. I looked around for the hostess but she was nowhere to be seen. I checked my watch, we’d been waiting for nearly 12 minutes so far.

“Actually I have, my roommate is a psych major, not even two days ago she was doing some impromptu hypnosis at the school cafeteria and she did a handshake induction on a first year. I hadn’t seen that done and I still don’t understand the mechanics of it, but apparently it worked. That boy just... froze in place, and as my friend started whispering to him his face just took on that blank stare, it was actually rather fascinating.”

She was using interesting choices of words for her description of the event as she recalled it. An extremely intelligent, probably highly analytical thinker, all the things I knew how to handle when dealing with clients. I was somewhat amazed at this girl, no this woman in front of me and was just about to offer an explanation but that’s when our hostess came over with our to-go orders. We stood up and stepped over to the POS terminal and I handed my credit card to the hostess and said “Both on my card, please.”

Trish turned, cocked that head ever so slightly and smiled.

“You’ll be paying for this later today, remember?” I said.

“I suppose you’re right, deal.”

Food paid for, we headed back out to the parking lot and yes I stared at those legs again but this time I got busted as she turned faster than I expected. “Seriously?” she asked.

“Yes, seriously, you have utterly fantastic legs, are you a gymnast or swimmer or what, and that tan, especially in February. I’m sorry to say I’m just a Human male, I’m not dead, and you are seriously attractive, that’s how it goes.”

“I swim every day, yes, and the tan is just mine I suppose. It’s weird considering I’m from Wisconsin originally, not really sunny California type weather but my Mom is 1/2 Cherokee so, I suppose that’s where I get it from,” she offered, making her way to her car.

“I hope that wasn’t offensive to you, me ogling you in that way. I promise from here on out to be completely professional,” I replied.

“Thank god, I was going to think you were some sick old bastard looking to trance hotties for a piece of ass. I’ll see you at 3:30PM, thank you for the lunch.”

OK, full stop, record scratch meme moment from the movies: You’re probably wondering how I ended up standing there in a Fazoli’s parking lot, watching a girl I wanted to not only trance but enjoy quite thoroughly from head to toe and everywhere in-between, with a 50+ year old hard-on tenting my pants as the breadsticks were getting colder by the moment.

Full on disclaimer time: I had, many years prior, an idea for something in my life and I never really pursued it but it sat on that back burner of my mind waiting, waiting for the opportunity to re-ignite. At that moment, when Trish basically outed the very thought I had earlier as we sat there having iced tea and threw it back in my face only a few moments prior, that idea burst into flames like a Phoenix rising from its own ashes.

The Offer.

I shook it off and got into my car just as the phone beeped:


I quickly replied it’s the lunch rush and I was on the way back. I put my seatbelt on, started the vehicle, reached for the shifter and then stopped. I looked up, through the windshield, out at the world around me and thought maybe, just maybe Trish was the one.

I made it back to the office where Casey snatched the bag out of my hand before I could even close the door behind me. She was all over that lasagna and she ate more of the breadsticks too but I didn’t mind at all since I was actually way too focused on Trish and possibly making her The Offer. Casey knew nothing of The Offer, no one did—it was literally a figment of my imagination at that time and always had been. If there was even the slightest chance of it being accepted, if this was the one chance in a lifetime that I had hoped would present itself for so long, could I actually live with not taking that chance?

“Casey, I’ll be drifting in my office. When Trish arrives, buzz me and I’ll say when, thanks,” I said, snatching the last breadstick before she got her fingers on it. She laughed and said “Sure thing, boss.” She had a button under her desk which when pressed set off a tiny piezoelectric buzzer in my office to let me know a client was ready to go. It wasn’t seriously loud but it was noticeable and always enough to bring me back to consciousness at times when I decided to just trance out in my hypnotist’s chair.

I closed the door to my office then went directly to the small private bathroom I had, splashed cold water from the sink on my face and then stood up and stared right into my own eyes.

“Think about this,” I spoke aloud to myself. “Think about this very very carefully before proceeding. Think about the years of work you’ve done. Think about how many times you’ve contemplated crossing that line with a client, all those young college and university girls, those hot fucking bodies, always wanting to learn how to relax because their schooling was so tough on them. Think about how you’ve wanted this for years, that you have the skills to do it, that you could drop any of them in a few seconds flat and make them do whatever you want.”

As I stood there staring into the abyss of my own eyes wondering where my soul was I thought about The Offer again and whether or not I’d dare go that far with Trish. I dried my face with the hand towel and went back into my office, reclining in my hypnotist’s chair. I looked up at the ceiling, saw the tiny red LED I had put there as a fixation point a few years ago, now currently just solid. I could trigger it with a dial on my main chair that would alter the blink rate when I’d tell people “Notice that red light flashing faster now...” and then I’d speed it up slightly so it becomes a self-fulfilling thing to the subject: I say it goes faster and they see it go faster so what I say happens and then it actually does happen.

I turned my head slightly to see my certificates and licenses on one side, then a wall with little Post-It-Notes of various colors: they were comments and feedback from clients. I was really good at what I did and I had a lot of clients to prove it, and an awful lot of repeat business over the past decade that I’d had my own private practice. I’d originally had a track in law myself many years prior, and I burned out in pre-law just as I imagined Trish was close to doing so I went to a hypnotherapist almost 30 years prior and asked for assistance. He helped me so much that I shifted towards psychology and clinical hypnotherapy because my life changed so drastically with hypnosis that I wanted to share that with others.

But as I looked at my accomplishments, my office, those clients that depended on me, and Casey, sweet Casey being there for me always, I really had to think hard and fast about what I was even considering. Casey had been the daughter of a best friend of my ex-partner Richard. Richard hired Casey the day she got out of high school, literally at her graduation, and she started with us in our partnered practice the very next day. After my partner and I split and he moved to another state, Casey stayed on with me and had been with me since the day I opened my practice. I loved her like a sister, and she’d been tremendous with the clients over the years.

So, with Trish coming in—I turned to look at the clock on the far wall of my office, not even bothering to lift my arm to look at my own watch—about an hour, I didn’t really have much time to decide. Of course, I knew the best way to make the decision for myself. I promptly dropped myself really really deep into trance and just told my sleeping self: “It’s your call, think about it, think about everything that’s happened, think about what you picked up on from Trish at the restaurant, put it all together and make a decision at the buzzer” and then my conscious mind just took a break for a while as I zoned out.


My eyes opened, and I knew what I was going to do. I’d make The Offer to Trish, and she’d decide for herself. I would accept the consequences of my actions, good or bad. I had made a small fortune betting on some tech stocks in the past decade and done quite well. I didn’t have to do what I was doing, but I really enjoyed using hypnosis to help others in those ways as a professional hypnotherapist. If things went awry, if suddenly I found myself losing most everything in that respect, I’d be OK for the rest of my life and I’d make sure Casey was situated and looked after in terms of some money and potential future employment with another practice.

I got up and then opened the door to my office and there stood Trish talking to Casey. “Nice to see you again,” she said and Casey turned to look at me. “We met at Fazoli’s, go figure,” I said, shrugging my shoulders again. Casey looked at Trish, nodding, then me, and then she sat down and said “Too weird for me, kids, have fun.”

Trish laughed softly and made her way into my office. I caught a whiff of her perfume as she passed right in front of me, not sure what it was but it smelled great. She looked around as I closed the door and flipped the switch so the outside light would show I was with a client. I suppose with Casey being out in the lobby it wasn’t necessary, and Trish was my last scheduled appointment for the day so either way I was covered.

“Quite the trophies,” she commented. I turned to see her eyeballing the actual certificate from the licensing bureau of Maryland for my practice and I said “Yeah, it only took me about 5 minutes to do that one up and print it at Kinko’s, it looks pretty authentic, right?”

Another soft laugh: “You are a funny man, I’ll give you that.”

“Trish, if you will, please have a seat in my hypnotist’s chair,” I said, now taking the role of hypnotist quite seriously.

She turned, saw me standing beside the recliner I always referred to as my hypnotist’s chair, then she looked at it instead of me, then me, and stepped towards it, past me, and then she sat down. She swung those legs up on the surface and settled into the cushions. “This is quite nice, actually, oh, and a fixation point, very nice.”

She wasn’t missing much, I’d have to give her that. There was honestly just something about this girl that was pushing my half-century old buttons. I was over twice her age, we both knew that, and I swear I had to sit down because my cock was ramping up its intensity of stiffness in my Dockers.

“Before we begin, I need to cover some basics. There are no recording devices in this room, this session will not be recorded, not by any audio hardware or video, and if you have a smartphone with you I’d ask that you silence it now please, and I mean totally silenced, not even on vibrate.”

She nodded, retrieved her smartphone from her front left pocket, tapped the screen a few times, seemed satisfied and then placed it back in her pocket. “Done, Professor.”

“Good, now, I need you to tell me, in your own words, what you’d like to accomplish with this session today. Depending on how things go we might consider more sessions, that’s entirely at your discretion based on how you feel today’s experience benefits you. You’re welcome to get as comfortable as you wish, and if you need to take a break at any time at all just say so. I have some bottled water in the fridge here as well,” and I opened the door to the mini-fridge beside my primary chair so she could see it.

“Thanks, I’m fine for now. I just want to be able to relax since I can’t seem to do it at all right now. My roomie, she’s a real sweetheart, has worked with me but there’s something about her being my friend that is nagging me, letting her into my mind in that manner. I mean I trust her completely, but even so, and it’s not a sexual thing, I’m straight and while she is absolutely a cutie I’m not attracted to her in that way. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, it does. I was going to ask about that after you mentioned her being a psych major at Fazoli’s but the hostess interrupted us. Thank you for letting me know that you’d at least made an attempt to get some assistance from her. I’m grateful that you came to me, but may I ask why you chose me specifically and not some other practice?” I asked.

“Cary, Cary Stewart. She recommended you, wouldn’t shut up about you to be honest. But after seeing the rather massive change in her outlook on everything in her life I asked and she said it was all because of you, so here I am, Professor. I put my mind in your apparently quite capable hands.”

My hands, she said. I looked at them, realizing what The Offer was comprised of, and it shook me pretty hard in that moment. I looked at her and realized she’d cocked one of her legs up on my hypnotist’s chair and in doing so it caused her calf muscle to flex, presenting me a view of one of the most attractive legs I’d ever seen. It was just the oddest thing to find myself so focused on that aspect of her leg, it was for lack of a better term perfect, a simply perfect leg, in that moment.

“Paul, are you OK, you kinda went all drifty there again for a moment, is something wrong?” she asked, swinging those legs to the floor and then facing me as she leaned towards me.

“Can... can you give me just a minute, I need to use the bathroom as ridiculous as it is to say it,” I barely got out. “Of course,” she replied, and I did my best to stand sideways trying to hide the erection in my pants. It was pretty severe, and while I wasn’t going to jerk off I did need to get away from her for at least a minute or two and regain some focus.

Once inside my private bathroom I splashed more cold water on my face, then more, looked into those eyes of mine again, heard that voice in the back of my head screaming at me:

She’s the one, you idiot, I’m telling you, every fucking instinct I am made of is telling you she is the one, stop being a pussy, dry your face, go to her, make The Offer, and either enjoy or suffer the consequences or be miserable forever, but do something, now

I realized in that moment that my unconscious mind could very well be the death of me if this blew up in our face, but Trish was waiting. I dried off, shifted my erection to a more comfortable position, then opened the door. Trish was standing behind my desk, looking at my collection of hypnosis related books, some of them quite old and valuable and no longer in print. She was holding one of them, a very old obscure text called “How To Control Fate Through Suggestion” by Henry Harrison Brown, a treatise on using personal suggestions aka aphorisms as that text called them towards a more positive life and control of one’s own destiny.

“Two shillings, my word this is one seriously old text,” she commented as she opened it to the preface page and stopped, then turned back one single page and read the text printed on that page out loud:


That last sentence, really all of what she’d just read, convinced me once and for all that too many coincidences had just happened in my rather dull life in an all-too short period of time to ignore—the Universe itself was trying to tell me something so I listened closely and then I spoke:

“Trish, I’d like to make you an offer, if you will. Would you please take a seat in my hypnotist’s chair once more?”

“Of course,” she said, closing that 117 year old hypnosis book and placing it gently back on the shelf. She turned, walked in front of me and I whiffed that perfume again, watched her legs, took in all of her at a glance, and then I took my seat facing her.

“What I’m about to propose is not something that I have ever done with anyone before, I need you to understand that. I need you to understand that I’m crossing a line with The Offer I’m about to make you, and I know it could be highly damaging to me personally and professionally if you find it unacceptable on any level whatsoever. I believe that accidents don’t just happen, hence my question earlier at the restaurant. I truly do believe that everything happens for a reason so please, allow me to make The Offer to you, in its entirety, and then you will obviously decide to accept it, or walk out and do whatever you feel is necessary to handle the situation. Will you allow me to present The Offer completely and then make a decision when the time is right?”

“Professor, I’m not sure what’s going on but I’m here and if you think this offer of yours will help me then it can’t hurt to listen. Will I be charged for this if I decline?” she asked. Hadn’t expected that so I had to shift my flow.

“No, of course not, this session is on the house, regardless of the outcome, that much I want clear. I don’t want there to be any financial ties if you decide not to accept The Offer but I’m getting ahead of myself. And while I appreciate the nod towards my age and experience, alas I am not a professor or professional educator in that respect, so please call me Paul.”

“OK, Paul,” she said while nodding. I hoped she picked up on how serious I was trying to be but I couldn’t be sure. She was reclined again, that one leg up, that curved calf muscle right there but I ignored it. I took in a deep breath and let it go with a long sigh to center myself. Opening the fridge I grabbed a bottle of water, cracked the seal, swigged most of it, and then set the bottle back in the fridge and closed the door.

“The Offer is something I created many years ago, in my imagination, so please understand that much up front. It’s a personal dream of mine, a fantasy if you will, with direct consequences on the lives of not just myself but the person I had hoped to present with The Offer when the right person came along. At this moment, today, because of what’s happened so far with how we met so seemingly randomly, but having a definite path back to some aspects of it happening like you knowing Cary, the traffic you mentioned, us meeting precisely the way we did at our vehicles face to face right next to each other. I can imagine that you yourself noticed some of these events and might feel the same way to some degrees, yes?”

She was nodding along with me the whole time and she answered “Yes, of course, there does seem to be an oddly interesting confluence of events happening today between us. I noticed it, I’m glad you did as well.”

A slight smile made me feel much better but the hard part was a ways off so I continued.

“You came to me for help, on many levels, and I know for a fact that I can help, on all of them. Probably even more than you’re aware of depending on how you handle The Offer once it’s presented, so here it is.”

She sat up, swung her legs off the side of my hypnotist’s chair, feet flat on the floor and faced me directly.

“If I could help you, in all the ways that you are asking for help, and many other ways that might not be evident right now but in the near and even far future, help that would make you not only a better person but better in all possible ways like education, patience, health, and yes that relaxation aspect you are craving, what would such help be worth to you?”

She started to answer me but that was just too fast. I knew she was quick and she had a sharp analytical intellect but even for her that was just too fast so I held up a hand and said “Wait, let me finish, you need to hear The Offer fully before you comment in any way, please?”

She nodded.

“The Offer sounds really complicated but it’s actually very simple. I offer, from my side of the deal, to do everything I’m capable of doing for you in terms of helping you by using hypnosis when needed to resolve issues, help you learn to relax, eat better, study better, and become a better person all around, top to bottom, and if necessary I will do that for the near and far future, for years to come, even with financial issues if necessary.”

That got a raised eyebrow and I could tell her brain was going bananas thinking of where I might be going.

“I made a boatload of cash betting stocks years ago, I could walk away from this today and never look back and still be well off 30 years from now. Money is a zero issue for me, but I’m almost done.”

She nodded again and pointed at the fridge so I got a cold bottle of water and handed it to her and was greeted with a soft “Thank you” as she took it from my outstretched hand.

“For everything that I can offer you for my side of the deal,” and I took in a long deep breath just as she was cracking the seal on the bottle, eyes focused on mine and locked in, “I will ask one thing from you, so here it is. If you accept my side of The Offer, your side will be to give yourself to me, heart, mind, body, and soul, for 24 hours, not a minute less not a minute more, to do with as I please with specific considerations meaning I can do whatever I want with you using my hands and my fingers, my mouth and my tongue, and nothing more. My cock, my penis, my dick, however you wish to refer to it, will never come into play, ever, that’s a line I will never ever cross.”

She was drinking a sip of water when I said “My cock” which was the moment she froze and stopped drinking. I didn’t realize it prior to that, didn’t notice that she hadn’t frozen at anything I said up to that moment which seemed a bit odd. For some reason I just hadn’t realized it till that moment when she did actually freeze.

“I will hypnotize you, very deeply, multiple times during that 24 hour period. I will condition you to my voice, make you unable to resist the triggers I implant in your unconscious mind, and you would effectively be completely obedient to me the entire time. You will be in and out of trance during the 24 hours but at points when you are conscious and not in trance the memories of previous trances will be hidden from you consciously by your unconscious mind at my request. When the 24 hour period is up, you will be emerged, fully conscious, but those memories will still be hidden from you temporarily.”

She started drinking again at the point where I said “obedient to me” and again I just didn’t catch it at that exact moment but I did just a sentence later.

“Finally, when you are awakened that final time after the 24 hours is up, all the suggestions given to you prior to that moment, all of them that I used with you during that 24 hours, will be rendered ineffective, without any hold or effect on you at all, except one: the final trigger which will be used to return all those memories to you, in one instant, after which that trigger itself will be rendered ineffective, without any hold or effect on you at all. The memories and experiences of everything that happened to you for those 24 hours will hit you at the same time, not slowly, by design.”

She finished the entire bottle in that one partially frozen swig and crushed the bottle as I was finishing that last sentence. Her knees had come together during this and they were now very slightly rubbing together, something that I as a hypnotist take note of. Yes, I noted her nostrils flaring, yes I noted her pupils dilating, and yes I noted her breathing became somewhat ragged to various degrees through all that but I wasn’t done.

“The moment I fire off that final trigger, and all those memories come flooding back into your conscious awareness, you’ll remember every moment in exquisite detail: every touch, every feeling, every moan, groan, whine, whimper, scream, whisper, and every orgasm of which you will have dozens. Every moment you spend in trance and out will come slamming back into your awareness, all at once, and while I can’t say what will happen to you when it does, I promise you I’ll be right there with you the entire time, at arm’s reach, to help if you need me to do so.”

A gasp, then she dropped the crushed water bottle on the floor. I watched it fall, saw it hit, saw it deflect off the carpet to her boot then off the side where it gently came to rest. I looked back into her eyes, still fairly dilated and said “Trish, that’s The Offer I make to you. Take as much time as you need to think about it, carefully, then when you’re ready, I’d like a decision.”

I sat back in my primary chair and just waited for something, for anything really. She wasn’t tranced, obviously, but she wasn’t moving much either. I looked above and over her shoulders, saw those Post-It-Notes and wondered “Man, if some of those clients could have heard what I just said they’d have probably formed a lynch mob for me...”

“Ex... excuse me, can I... can I...” and her head turned towards my private bathroom. “Of course, by all means, it’s yours, go,” I said.

She very slowly stood up, shaking as she did so, I mean it was actually starting to worry me how she was trembling as she passed me and then stepped inside. She turned on the light, closed the door but stopped with it about 3-4 inches open, saw me looking at her. She smiled and winked and then closed the door.

I heard a whimper, or at least it sounded like it, then a soft squeal and I just didn’t have a clue, really. I sat there not understanding what had just actually happened, not believing that I had actually made The Offer but knowing it was now out of my hands entirely. I took a look around one more time thinking “It’s over, that’s that, might as well go tell Casey something big was about to happen and that this practice would probably be closing due to some emergency I’d have to create out of thin air. So many clients, so little time, I can’t believe I just did that, my god what have I...”

The bathroom door opened and Trish turned off the light. She made her way back to my hypnotist’s chair, sitting down off the side to face me once more.

“Trish, I’m sor—and she cut me off with a quick hand held up.

“I accept your offer, can we begin, now?” she said, point blank.

For the briefest moment I looked at this 22 year old woman: strong, independent from my instincts, absolute stunner, someone I found myself abnormally attracted to—and it wasn’t the age difference being the abnormal aspect either. I had always told myself in the years since I had the first idea of making The Offer to someone such as Trish that it wouldn’t work; that no strong, independent woman her age or close to it would literally offer themselves to me just for some help being better, it just couldn’t happen.

But then for whatever reason we met at that Fazoli’s, in that manner, on that day, and my instincts told me it was now or never so I actually listened to them. It truly was the oddest day of my life. But it could become the best, which is when that voice whispered:

See, I told you, you have to trust me, trust yourself, now get that girl tranced and have some fun for a change, you sick old bastard

“Trish, are you completely free to me for 24 hours, starting at...” I looked at the clock “4pm, 3 minutes from now?”

“I will be,” she said as she was already tapping madly on her phone. I have no idea what she did text but I presume it was to her roommate with some explanation for not being around for the next day. I got up, turned off the busy light, opened the door and stepped out into the lobby. Casey looked up, then at the wall clock and said “Early? Is something wrong?”

“Casey, you’re done for the day, and I won’t be in tomorrow. Can you reschedule the appointments for tomorrow before you leave, I’m going to be tied up for a bit.” She smiled and said: “Literally tied up, I mean ’cause Trish gives me the impression she’s just that kind of girl, you know.”

I smiled, stepped forward and gave her a hug. “Let’s just say this: Trish is going to help me make a lifelong dream come true, and I’m going to help her be the very best Trish she can be for the rest of her life. How’s that?”

“Works for me, boss, maybe tell me the story someday?” she asked.

“I’ll write a story, you’ll be the first to read it, promise, but names will be altered to protect the oh-not-so-innocent after all,” I replied.

Casey winked at me, gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, then whispered “I hope she fucks your brains out, multiple times. Please, be safe and have fun, love you.”

“Not quite the way it’ll work, but thanks for the suggestions. Get those appointments done, then take off. I’ll see you on Friday at 8am. Love you, too.”

I stepped back into my office and Trish was stepping out of my bathroom again. I smiled, she smiled, then I waved an arm towards my hypnotist’s chair once more. She went to it, reclined, and then I sat down and asked her to focus on that spot, that solid red light which began to slowly blink over the course of the next 2 minutes, then a bit faster over the next minute, then faster after the next one. It didn’t matter at that point because Trish was already deep in trance and her gorgeous blue eyes had long since closed per my suggestions.

I looked at my watch—4:08PM—and now our clock was ticking. I spent the better part of that next hour conditioning Trish to my voice, to respond to specific triggers designed for specific purposes as one might expect when using post-hypnotic suggestions. I didn’t get to the pleasure side of things yet, that would happen a bit later after I’d gotten her into my bedroom. Yes, my home was where my office was located, with a separate area I’d had constructed from a day room into a more professional looking hypnotherapist’s office, at least once you came in the side entrance of my house.

There was a second door in my office, most people never even noticed it because of how the walls met in a corner area, and it didn’t have a handle on it since it slid open and closed. It looked just like another panel of wood basically, sort of a hidden entrance aspect.

I fractionated Trish for a good 15 minutes of that first hour, and the first time she emerged she smiled but I only gave her like 2 seconds before I sent her spiraling back down for 10 seconds, then up for 3, down for 15, in a somewhat logical pattern of keeping her down longer each time to acclimate her to the feeling of being deeply obedient and responding without conscious thought getting in the way. I checked with her unconscious every single step of the way with every major suggestion and trigger that I was able to implant deep; I didn’t want one single issue or abreaction coming back to ruin the experience in any manner for her, or me either.

I questioned her about her actual experience with hypnosis and she told me her roommate had difficulty keeping her down there meaning at a deep enough level. I suspected their work together was failing for a variety of reasons but mostly just the dorm style atmosphere being problematic and not safe and secure like a professional’s office would be—even one in a private home—on the unconscious level.

I asked her unconscious what her waking self had thought of The Offer when it was presented and her unconscious revealed that after she and her roommate first met she had noted at times the roomie’s laptop being open and her web browser having a website with a particularly recognizable light purple/lavender color scheme loaded. I immediately knew she was referring to the EMCSA, or The Erotic Mind Control Stories Archive, a website devoted to sharing fantasy stories related to hypnosis and mind control and there are thousands of them there.

I asked her unconscious if she’d read any of them and was told that she’d read quite a few but found a lot of them so utterly unrealistic and pure “mind control” that it was somewhat off-putting at first. But she looked at some Reader’s Picks for various authors, found a few from some authors that had a less sociopathic quality to them, romantic even in spite of the use of hypnosis to control someone. Her unconscious revealed that she did have some fantasies about being taken, controlled, helplessly obedient, unable to stop herself from feeling things someone else wanted her to feel. I noted them and planned to feed them back to her over the next 22 hours or so with a heightened sense of realism.

There’s also several stories at the EMCSA that I had written as well, which is why I told Casey I’d write a story about this experience. Casey knew me very well, but we were not intimate together. She caught me typing like mad one time on my laptop and asked and I figured if I couldn’t trust her with my secret second-life of sorts then something was wrong. I sent her the link to my stories page, she told me she’d read them at home later, and around 2am I got a text from her in big capital letters:


I did ask Trish’s unconscious if she’d read mine and when I revealed the nom de plume I used for writing and several of the story titles; I was told no, so I’d have to make sure Trish was aware of them after her side of The Offer was covered. Maybe she’d like them, maybe not, and as I looked upon her lying there I decided if she trusted me then she trusted me. I got up, stepped over, and I told her unconscious I wanted to feel her leg just for a moment, just to see how soft her skin was.

Positive response so I gently raised her leg to that position again, noted how the calf muscle flexed as the ankle was pulled heel-back and that curve formed. I can’t explain why that turned me on so much, it just did, and I reached out to stroke her leg and it felt just as amazing as I’d hoped.

A glance at my watch—5:02PM—and I decided it was time to get this girl bathed which was the next step.

“Trish, in a moment I’m going to count from 1 to 5. At the count of 5 and not before the count of 5 you will open your eyes, and the very act of opening your eyes will only serve to send you twice as deep into this sleepy obedient trance. You will follow my instructions as always, without hesitation, without any thought at all, you will simply obey me instantly. 1... 2... 3... 4... and 5... eyes open.”

Her eyes opened so very slowly, staring straight ahead and I had to wonder if that faster blinking red LED caught it but I noted no attempt at focusing or changing her fixation. She was for all intents and purposes blank.

“Trish, sit up please, legs on the side, feet flat on the floor.”

She slowly moved, that herky-jerky sense of unconscious body control in action, slowly but surely getting to the position I told her to take up. Now the first pleasure trigger:

“Trish, whenever I say “Good girl” to you that will give you a burst of deep warm yummy pleasure from your insides. It’s not a sexual feeling, it doesn’t generate from your groin, or your sex. It’s just something that starts in your belly area, a deep warm yummy pleasure from me saying “Good girl” to you, each and every time I say “Good girl” and the effect will get stronger each time I say “Good girl.” Each and every time stronger and stronger, say yes you understand and will obey.”

“Yes, I understand, I will obey.”

“Good girl,” I said, and I watched. She gasped at the sensation, so I said it again. Another soft gasp but different because the effect was different per the suggestion. I stood there just slightly off-center from her, staring at her as she effectively stared at nothing. I repeated the phrase “Good girl” to her for about 5 minutes, saying it roughly once every 10 seconds along the way. By the time I hit the 5 minute mark she was practically orgasmic from what my instincts were telling me.

“Trish, stand up.”

She stood, shakily, but she made it without my assistance. I held out my hand and said “Trish, take my hand and follow me, obey.”

Her head nodded just slightly, her eyes catching my arm and the hand at the end of it. Her left arm began to rise slowly, the same herky-jerky motion, and then finally I felt her fingers slip into mine. I squeezed her soft warm hand so she’d know it was captured. I led her to that sliding door, opened it, then led her through it, through my kitchen and living room, down some steps, and then back up several more steps to the rear hallway where my bedroom was. I led her inside then had her stand in the middle of the room as I turned on all the lighting. I told her to close her eyes and just drift and float quietly as I did some quick cleaning, changed the sheets, those sorts of things.

When I was done I focused all my attention on Trish. The watch on my wrist said 5:33PM so I decided it was time to get this girl squeaky clean. I emerged her knowing that because of the suggestions I’d given her in that first hour or so she would not remember being in my office, or Casey, or even meeting me at Fazoli’s a few hours earlier. She would not remember her own life prior to the first time she would awaken and it would seem perfectly normal. Everything I said to her would be perfectly normal, her obeying me without hesitation would be perfectly normal, my touching her whenever and however I pleased would be perfectly normal as well.

There was one other aspect to this that would now present itself, something I’d waited to hear for nearly a decade since The Offer presented itself to my imagination.

I stood in front of her and said “Good girl, awaken” and she did.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, rolling down a bit from their position rolled up in the sockets. As she noted me and turned her head ever so slightly she spoke very softly and those words I so longed to hear:

“Your good girl is ready to obey, Sir.”

“Good girl,” I said, noting the goose bumps literally rippling over her skin as I did so. “It’s time to bathe, girl, I want you squeaky clean for me. I plan to enjoy every inch of your flesh as we agreed, you understand this, yes?”

“Yes, I will honor The Offer, Sir.”

Yes, I know, it’s somewhat silly but I wanted her to say specific things, it’s my fantasy so that’s how it went. “Good girl, it’s time to bathe, please disrobe for me, now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She began to slowly disrobe as I stood there and watched. Oh boy, I felt like a 10 year old getting his first peek at some naked girl he was interested in, the excitement was almost unsettling. In the back of my head a major philosophical battle was playing itself out even as I was a) trying to enjoy the view of Trish stripping for me, b) my cock about to literally spurt off in my pants, and c) the nagging voice asking me “Are you really sure you can do this? Because so far you haven’t done anything really ethically compromising aside from stroking her leg a few times, you can still call this off, make her forget it all, and move past this.”

I could appreciate that because it’s another instinct of mine to do the right thing as often as possible in my life. I stood there, watching her, staring at me constantly—her eyes never left mine. I watched her pull off her boots, staring at me. I watched her socks come off, admired her beautiful feet and ankles, seeing her entire lower legs for the first time. Then her shorts came off, leaving her black thong panties. In that next moment as she stood back up I got my first visual of her pussy: very neatly trimmed hair forming a tiny “V” pointing directly at the hood over her clit which was actually somewhat visible.

She looked delicious, and her scent hit me pretty hard as I leaned in for a closer look. She was removing her shirt, a black pullover of some kind, when I noted the tattoo on her upper chest of what appeared to be a dragon, at least that’s what it looked like to me. I held up my rather large hands to her breasts without making contact and figured that old adage of “If it fits in the hand it’s perfect” and Trish would fit my hands perfectly.

I stepped around behind her and good lord, I swear I just dropped to my knees upon seeing the cheeks of her ass. The word “perfect” kept rambling through my consciousness and I just wanted to grab her and take a bite, I did, but I held back. Shirt now off, it landed on the floor as her hands went to her sides and she looped a finger of each hand into the thong panties and began to pull them down.

This was the moment I’d waited for nearly a decade, a lifetime really, and I was ready for it. When her panties reached a point about mid-thigh she bent over slightly at the waist and I spoke one word:


She froze, in that position, which caused her to expose her rosebud and pussy to me from behind. I knew what I wanted to do, and I was so close to doing it, sick old bastard that I might actually be, I didn’t fucking care anymore. I made The Offer, she was a grown adult woman and she accepted it and now she was mine. Just as I was about to reach up and grab her ass that nagging voice gave one last shot:

There’s really no turning back if you do this, one last time, think about the consequences, all those clients, your reputation, Casey’s well being, all of it.

And I did think about it for a fraction of a second and my response to my own nagging voice was simple:

“They’ll be fine, and if Casey were here right this moment she’d be doing three things: 1) she’d be stroking her own slit like mad because she’s bi-sexual, 2) she’d be pushing my face into Trish’s ass as hard as she could, and 3) she’d be ordering me to eat her ass like the sick old bastard I was, so yeah, again, The Offer was accepted, and this is mine.”

I buried my face in Trish from behind as deeply as I could while wrapping my arms around her thighs on the front side, pulling her even deeper into my mouth and onto my tongue. Just for a few moments I wanted to get that taste of her prior to her getting squeaky clean and so I did. Her actual taste, both from the juices from her slit as well as the musky pungent odor and taste of her rosebud really set me off, more than I ever imagined possible. If I let it continue I’d honestly be spurting off in my pants and I didn’t want that so with one final lick from clit to rosebud and up into her crack, I flicked my tongue and enjoyed myself as best I could.

I released her legs, sat back, then said “Freedom” as she continued removing her panties. After they were off she was then totally nude, standing there waiting for her next command. I stood up, admiring her from each side, inspecting her flesh from a distance. I ran my hands up and down her thighs, her arms, across her flat stomach—she had a barely visible 6-pack but it was there and I felt it when I pressed my fingers in slightly. And of course, those legs, those glorious calves, and now I could finally see the sweep of her thighs and that just accentuated the entire package that Trish presented to me by accepting The Offer.

“Good girl,” I kept softly whispering, eliciting those massive waves of goosebumps. “Are you OK with this, Trish, with everything that’s happened so far, no issues, no problems no concerns at all?”

“No, Sir, I will honor The Offer.”

“Good girl, let’s get you squeaky clean” as I took her by the hand and led her to the shower. I kept saying that phrase “squeaky clean” because it was itself a trigger, one that would give her great pleasure once that water hit her body in the shower. She took my hand and followed, entering the bathroom, stepping to the shower and reaching in to adjust the water as instructed. When it was to her liking she stepped inside. She took the body wash and the loofah and began bathing, scrubbing herself vigorously as the water hit her and I stepped forward and said “Good girl, I want you squeaky clean..” and she yelped loudly as the first of many orgasms slammed home.

Her knees buckled slightly as she reached out to the wall in front of her to balance herself. The loofah in her free hand made it’s way down her belly to her groin area and I said “squeaky clean” again about 15 seconds later, another orgasm, another loud yelp. She was finally able to clean her groin area, then down a bit further and she moaned rather softly as she stroked the loofah across her labia. I whispered “I want all of you squeaky clean, girl, obey.”

That set her other hand in motion as it reached around behind her slowly. The fingers on that other hand slowly made their way in-between her amazing cheeks, then down, a slight turn of the wrist and then another soft yelp as she penetrated her rosebud, slowly fucking herself with one finger, then two, in and out over and over as the other hand used that loofah to slowly stroke her pussy. It really was a beautiful thing to watch and before I even realized it I found myself whispering “Good girl” over and over again.

The heat from the water, the water itself, my voice, that trigger, the loofah, her fingers fucking herself in her ass, she must have had 5 or 6 orgasms in that 5 to 6 minutes I just sat there on the commode watching her bathe herself for me. But she’d had enough and I was honestly afraid that she’d lose her balance if another massive orgasm hit so I told her to stand up straight and drift. I reached in to the shelf area and got the shampoo, squirted some into my hand and then began washing her hair.

“My fingers, massaging your scalp softly, girl, feel my fingers all over your body, now. My fingers, your scalp, all your skin, everywhere, my fingers massage all of you with every touch, every inch of your skin feels my touch, now.”

I couldn’t see her face when that suggestion locked in but the way she kind of folded somewhat at the neck as it flexed forward, dropping her head back pushing it into my fingers, it was one of the most arousing moments of my entire life. Such a simple suggestion really, I didn’t put a lot of thought into it—Trish standing there in front of me in my shower under my spell was a pretty big distraction, to be honest.

But it was a simple experience for me and one I’d wanted for a long, long time. I’ve never really been great with women in my life. Sure I’d been with a few, not nearly as many as I’d wanted, and even with the occasional excursions into the recreational side of hypnosis I never found any females that really intrigued me enough to do anything even near what I was doing to Trish and certainly not for the same reasons.

The sheer lunacy of me being able to wash her hair in that way, considering how everything fell into place so fast, made me really start to question my actual reality. For a moment I was telling myself that I shouldn’t be doing this at all, and the next moment all I wanted to do was have her stand in place, step into the shower with her—even with my clothes on—and just stroke her pussy and finger her ass while whispering “You’re my good girl, all mine, say you’re all mine” as she kept telling me she was mine.

That’s what I wanted, so that’s what I did.

Fingers of one hand slowly stroking her slit as softly as I could, middle finger of my other hand very gently finger fucking her rosebud in and out, in and out, whispering those exact words in her ear even as my clothes became soaked standing there next to her. 30 seconds, the 1st orgasm, another minute, the 2nd, another minute or so and the 3rd orgasm and she literally collapsed but I caught her even as slippery as she was. I got my hands under her arms, lifted her up into mine completely then carried her unconscious body to my bed, laying her on the towel I had already put there just across the foot.

I situated her then ran back to shut off the water. I had to get out of my clothes so I stripped and left them bundled in the sink, then I grabbed my bath robe and stood there looking at myself in the mirror, a 50+ year sick old bastard with a fucking hard-on like I hadn’t had in 15 years or so. I grabbed my cock and stroked it and I actually had the guts to say—out loud—“I hope you’re happy...” to my own cock. I wanted to jack off, I really did, I wanted to go back into my bedroom, stand beside Trish, command her to open her eyes and see my cock and then have her talk me to an orgasm as she instructed me on how to stroke my cock for her pleasure.

I wanted it, and was just about to make it happen but then I remembered The Offer and I let it go—literally—even though I was still pretty much rock hard and it wasn’t going to abate anytime soon. I wanted her, I wanted every inch of her, but my word is my bond so my own pleasure would simply have to wait.

Wrapping the robe closed I then returned to her side and took a second towel and began drying her softly, doing what I could to not disturb her just yet. I had plans for my sleeping Trish and—glancing at my alarm clock, 6:34PM—I still had plenty of time but we’d be having dinner in a bit so I had to decide how best to handle it. I lay the second towel on her and whispered “Sleepy girl, drift for me, just drift, peaceful, more and more relaxed with each breath, drift until I touch you on the shoulder... drift, drift... drift...” as my whisper faded and I could see her visibly sink into the mattress just a bit more.

I went to the living room, grabbed the few menus I had for the various delivery services, figured as crazy as it sounds pizza would be sufficient but then I thought about Chinese. Uber was doing delivery service from Panda Express in my area finally so, Uber and Panda Express it was. I called in, of course realizing my wallet was in my pants which were soaking wet in the sink so as I was waiting on hold I retrieved the credit card noting everything was soaked clear through. For a moment I thought about it, then I leaned out and saw Trish laying on my bed, under my spell, mine for another 21 hours or so, said “Fuck it, she’s worth losing it all...” and laughed.

And in that moment, that one moment, I let go of all the conflict I had inside me. As I had reminded myself earlier, I made The Offer to a woman that I found attractive, that was the first aspect. I made it to an attractive intelligent woman, that being the second aspect. I made it to her while she was fully conscious and before any hypnosis had entered the picture, that was the third aspect. And I made it to her face to face knowing if she didn’t accept it I could literally lose everything I had, most importantly my very freedom itself if she pressed charges and I ended up in jail.

I told you, you’re good, she’s there, waiting for you to lick her, asshole to abdomen and back again as much as you want, to own her and do whatever you want, she told you yes, she accepted your offer, stop fucking around and go enjoy Trish from head to toe

Just as I started to turn and step from the bathroom I got the operator for the delivery service: two full orders, chow mein and fried rice, orange chicken, teriyaki chicken, some chicken eggrolls, a serving of egg drop soup, couple of bottles of Sobe Fruit Punch, and a large side order of honey walnut shrimp with extra walnuts. $39 seemed a bit high but I suppose the delivery charge was almost as much as the food itself, it’s just the price of business anymore. I gave the credit card info, told them I wanted it delivered at 8PM sharp—checking my watch it was 6:41PM—and was told it would be on time or the delivery charge would be waived.

I set the phone down on the bathroom counter then picked it back up and made sure it was silent. I went and sat on the floor beside my bed just to look at Trish. I removed the towel over her because I wanted to take in that body as much as I possibly could in the time I had. It was a one time thing, The Offer, just one time and one time only, never again and I always knew that, never had a single issue with it. Sure, I wanted to fuck her, there, I said it. I wanted to fuck a lot of women in my life, hypnosis involved or not, it’s just the fact: as a Human male, we want to fuck, period. We want to fuck mouths, pussies, assholes, it doesn’t really seriously matter in the long run: if it’s hot, tight, and wet, our dicks will be happy getting milked by whatever we can slide it into.

That’s just the way it is.

Watching her laying there, breathing deep and slow, it was hypnotic, pun intended. I wanted to just drift off to that sound, watching her breasts slowly rise just a bit, then fall just a bit, over and over. Her flat stomach, in that light the way it hit the surface of the bed, was simply breathtaking. The sweep of her thighs across the top, even in her deeply relaxed state was quite impressive. Everything about this girl was awesome, it really was. Men dream of having a woman like this, all men, young and old, and this woman was mine.

I sat up on my knees and got started on something I called “The Magic Palm” which was basically a conditioned response that I’d already suggested to her back in the office but now would become a reality. I touched her on the right shoulder and whispered “Sleepy girl, awaken for me, now.”

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing changed, and she moved ever so slightly. “Good girl, very good girl,” I said purposely wanting to see those goosebumps once again and I wasn’t disappointed.

“In a moment, I’m going to use The Magic Palm on you, girl. I have two palms so the first one will slide behind your neck softly, and will squeeze you softly. As that palm squeezes the back of your neck softly, your mind will go soft, with each squeeze your mind will soften just a bit more and more with each squeeze. As your mind goes soft with each squeeze, you will feel more and more relaxed, more and more submissive to me, more and more helpless to me, and more and more docile.”

She just stared straight up at the ceiling, her unconscious absorbing everything I fed to it.

“My other palm will find it’s way to your pussy, where it will simply rest softly on your pussy. The middle finger of that hand is going to find its way to your rosebud where it will slowly and gently fuck your rosebud while the palm sucks your pussy. It’s going to happen, girl, and you won’t be able to stop it from happening. The palm on the back of your neck will keep you deeply relaxed, docile, and deeply submissive as it softens your mind with each squeeze even as the palm on your pussy sucks the orgasms out of your pussy and the finger slowly and gently fucks your helpless rosebud.”

Breathing somewhat ragged now as the suggestions of what was going to happen to her just got more ragged and I hadn’t even touched her yet.

“You’re going to enjoy this tremendously, girl, and I will keep you having orgasms for as long as I desire because you belong to me for this time and this is what I want for you to experience. Helplessly orgasmic, unable to resist, mine, all mine, sleepy and obedient. Relax, enjoy, and obey.”

I put my hands together and rubbed them to build up some heat by friction. After about 30 seconds of very vigorous rubbing I then scooted a bit closer to the bed, slid my left hand gently behind her neck taking a soft but firm grip, allowing my right hand to touch her at her lower abdomen as I slid it down that sensitive area of her triangle, sliding my fingers with purpose across her slit slowly, then bringing the very warm palm to rest directly over her sex. I carefully inserted the tip of my middle finger gently into her rosebud and said:

“And now I begin.”

She whimpered at the first squeeze on her neck, my suggestions taking hold as I had been assured by her unconscious it would handle things without issues. I squeezed softly several times making sure to look for and gauge a reaction by her eyes, and with each squeeze they fluttered on the squeeze itself and opened fully when I released. And then I added the palm on her sex, in sync with the squeeze on the neck that got me the first gasp which I was very happy to hear. Several of those in sync and a slight gasp and the flutter each time told me she was on the way.

The K.O., as the term is used, would be that middle finger gently inserted into her rosebud. Yes, I suppose some people are just raw enough to expect me to just say “her asshole, just say it and be done with it,” so fine: I had my middle finger in her asshole, there. I don’t prefer to use the crude language personally, rosebud works for me, or starfish, anus, a lot of other terms I suppose are applicable but rosebud is my given choice.

After maybe 2 minutes of just the squeeze on the back of her neck and the soft manipulation of her sex by the other palm, I detected a slight trembling in her thighs. I knew her first orgasm because of this whole new thing was approaching so I acted fast by saying “Girl, please spread your legs for me, open yourself to me, girl, that’s right, just like that,” and noted her having some pretty extreme effort to get it done.

Barely capable of physically moving at that point, she did get those soft wonderful thighs spread a few inches apart which gave me a slightly better angle to press downward into her sex on the next squeeze with that palm. I kept the middle finger as immobile as I could because what I had in mind was probably going to knock her out, that was seriously the hope.

“Good girl, that’s enough, thank you for opening yourself to me, and now, rag doll.”

The rag doll suggestion was one I’d heard many times in my life, and I’d always wanted to use it with someone. Now, with this helplessly obedient girl literally in the palms of my hands, I found it to be the one chance I might ever have and I was going to make the very best use of it possible.

The suggestion is simple: you instruct the unconscious mind that when the word “rag doll” is spoken that it removes the subject’s conscious ability to control basically every muscle in their body. If you’re speaking of a string puppet of some kind or a marionette on a string or strings, the effect is similar to what would happen if you literally sliced all those strings at the same instant: the subject simply suffers the total loss of voluntary muscle control and collapses into nothing more than a pile of flesh.

I’d seen it demonstrated once long ago at a stage hypnosis show and upon first glance it looks similar to what happens when someone is re-induced into trance with a re-induction trigger like a finger snap, or the hypnotist yelling “Sleep!” or whatever they use to send their subjects back down into trance. The difference from the re-induction trigger is that there’s a small level of conscious control going on with respect to the voluntary muscle response and more often than not a seated person will slump to one side or the other.

It’s not the same as the rag doll suggestion by design and purpose.

With the rag doll trigger the moment the unconscious latches onto it, that’s it, it’s done: the whole body is simply removed from the conscious mind’s ability to do anything about. The subject, just like Trish lying there in front of me being stimulated senseless by my palms squeezing her gently in sync, simply became paralyzed from the perspective of not being able to move anything. They, just like Trish, would not lose their conscious awareness of their body, or what they were feeling, to any degrees. They simply lost the ability to control anything consciously.

For Trish, the moment it happened was a beautiful thing to see. As soon as I said the word her eyes flared wide open for just the briefest moment because what I had done was 4-fold:

I spoke the trigger as I squeezed the back of her neck while pressing into her sex while squeezing that palm as well, but the knockout punch, or push I suppose, was me sliding that middle finger as deep into her rosebud as I could manage. As those three physical acts were performed in sync, I held them: I held the squeezes firmly in both places as that finger went deep inside her most sensitive spot.

For the briefest of moments I felt her rosebud clench down on my finger very very tightly. It relaxed a moment later, but then it started pulsing in terms of squeezing/releasing/squeezing/releasing which was completely unconscious control behavior. I took that as a very good sign that her unconscious was quite happy with the experience.

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak—at least not under conscious control to make anything intelligible come out of that mouth now forming the typical “O” face if even for just a fraction of a second till her facial muscles released courtesy of that trigger.

She made the sound I dreamed of hearing for so many years, as silly as that might be to some people. It wasn’t a gasp, it wasn’t a moan, wasn’t a whimper which I love hearing so much. What she managed to get out was nothing more than a primal groan. I swear to some higher power I pretty much came when I heard it, right there as I knelt beside her and that sound made it very difficult to maintain my focus on her. I held out for the 30 seconds I imagined would be long enough to sink the experience so deep into her mind she’d really never forget it unless I asked her unconscious to do that on purpose.

She groaned a second time after about 10 seconds, then again after about 13. Her breathing took on a rapid short pacing, she was having that orgasm but since I was holding her steadily in those 3 sensitive spots she just groaned more and more, over and over. Finally after maybe 25 seconds as my best guess the sound she made changed to a more guttural one—it’s very tough to describe in words, unfortunately—and sucked in a deep breath, gave me a whimper that made my cock stand up even more, and then her eyes closed as she gave herself to the pleasure that literally knocked her right the fuck out.

I softly whispered “Good girl, good girl, rest now, good girl” over and over as I removed my hands from her body. I reached to the floor to get the towel I had dropped there earlier and covered her—she was roughly 5′7″ I guessed. The bath towels I had were huge, almost size of a door at just under 7 feet long and maybe 3 feet wide so it could cover her adequately. I stood up, noting how my cock started poking clear through the gap in my robe and said “You have to wait” and giggled at myself for having said it.

I gently brought her legs together from their previous position, stepped to the head of the bed and got two of the memory foam cushions that I love so much. I lifted her body just a few inches and slid her towards the middle of the bed itself, placed the two pillows under her head, covered her with the towel again and then smiled. I was a happy man in that moment, knowing that I’d made a dream of mine come true thanks to Trish’s trust in me and her acceptance of The Offer. I’d had many dreams in my life, but that one was all mine, not something I’d ever read someone else doing then thinking to myself “Yeah, that would be neat, hopefully I’ll get a chance to try that sometime.”

The Magic Palm, in the manner in which I’d just done it for Trish, was all mine, just like she was for—glancing at my alarm clock, 7:27PM—another 20 hours, give or take. I leaned in, kissed her on the forehead, thanked her for trusting me then again I told her unconscious to allow her to drift until I touched her on the shoulder.

I went to the bathroom to clean up my own mess, my semen splattered all over the inside of the robe. I leaned back in the doorway to look at the carpet and didn’t see anything so I presumed all of it got caught in the robe. I took it off, dumped it in the hamper across from the commode, and then took a washcloth and ran some warm water on it then wiped myself clean in the groin area. Again, I believed she was worth the small price of having to wash my clothes a day early. Grabbing another robe I went back to check on her, sleeping peacefully at that point more than likely.

I headed to the living room, checked my watch and it was 7:38PM so I went to the kitchen, grabbed a few plates and utensils, some napkins, and two glasses. I knew the Sobe came in glass bottles but maybe she preferred to drink it from an actual glass, couldn’t hurt to prepare for the eventuality. At that moment I suddenly realized I hadn’t bothered to ask if she even liked Chinese and I facepalmed myself only to then look at that palm of the one hand, adding the second hand to it as my eyes went back and forth.

As I realized what I had finally done only minutes prior, to a willing subject that gave herself to me, I stared at those palms and said out loud: “What the fuck have you two gotten me into? It’s bad enough you’ve been abusing just me for 35+ years, now you’ve done gone and corrupted an amazing young woman, damn.”

I laughed, out loud, I had to do it. Trish had helped me make that dream come true and the night was still relatively young, but she’d had enough pleasure for the evening. My plan was to wine her and dine her, so to speak, and then put her to sleep, real actual deep natural sleep, with me beside her, clothed of course. I made The Offer, she accepted it, and that was the deal, so for me I’d always be clothed in her direct presence in some manner.

The bath robe had been enough for that but I decided to change into sweat pants and a moderately thick half-length sleeve black t-shirt I really liked that I’d had printed up a few years prior. It had a custom saying on the front: there was a white spiral at the top, then the words “FOCUS RELAX and GO DEEPER” which was a play on the famous “KEEP CALM and CARRY ON” posters that had been having a renaissance in the recent past. Of course with me being a hypnotist I had to modify it and use the hypno-spiral instead of the crown. It was a great conversation starter to interest people in hypnosis and was worth every penny I paid for it multiple times over.

After changing I checked on Trish one last time: she’d rolled over on her left side into the pillows and curled into the fetal position so I adjusted the towel to cover her again. The curve of her soft fleshy cheeks tempted me, and I considered just copping another feel since she was mine, but I’d already decided my antics were done for the night. The morning, of course, was an entirely new experience waiting for both of us.

I heard a car outside, saw a flash of lights on the back wall of my bedroom and figured that must be the driver, checking my watch it was 7:55PM so, a tip would be in order even if it was a wet $10 bill. I stepped to the bathroom, extracted the wet bill from the wallet, grabbed the credit card and the phone from where I’d left it earlier and then headed to the door. Just as I was within arm’s reach the doorbell rang—I had hoped to get to it before that happened, oh well.

Opening the door I found myself staring at yet another gorgeous young woman, not that different from Trish. “Hi,” I said, “thanks for coming, you can bring that in if you like or...” and she stepped forward so I stepped back and let her in. “Kitchen is on the right there just a bit further.” She made it there, emptied her hot-food-carrying bag’s contents onto the table, brought plenty of napkins and plastic utensils herself which was nice.

“Can I see the credit card, Sir?” she said and I choked softly on the Sobe I’d just cracked open and took a swig of. She wouldn’t understand the implication of calling me Sir considering what I’d just done to Trish and why. Being a Human male lifelong hypnotist I had of course already sized this girl up, dropped her into trance a half dozen times, hit her with the rag doll trigger, folded her legs back behind her ears, licked her utterly senseless from asshole to abdomen many many times, then had her forget the experience and sent her on her way.

But that’s what that guy in the back of my head wanted, and since that wasn’t going to happen I handed her the card, she verified the info, then handed it back and I then handed her the wet $10 bill. “Sorry, I had a little accident in the bathroom earlier, it’s just water I promise,” I said trying to be really apologetic.

She took the bill, flapped it in her hands as if doing that would suddenly make it dry up instantly, and then I noted a different focal point for her eyes as she softly mouthed the words:

“Oh... my...”

I turned to see Trish standing not 10 feet from me, in all her natural beauty, as her hand was reaching up to cover her own mouth in the middle of a yawn. She didn’t reach to cover her sex, she didn’t reach to cover her breasts, she reached to cover her mouth and I started wondering...

“Please, please, please tell me you two ladies do not know each other,” I said, bringing my hands together in mock prayer.

“No, I...” the delivery driver was trying to say but she was checking Trish out head to toe and unconsciously she bit her lower lip and cocked her head just so to one side, then snapped out of it a few moments later saying “No, I don’t know her, but I’m guessing you do, intimately.”

Another choke from me of sorts, and Trish actually giggled. Obviously this girl was seriously attracted to Trish and it was obvious why: Trish was a total Betty, a total hottie, a perfect girl for the eyes of any Human, and I smiled knowing that yes, she was mine for just a bit longer.

Trish came closer to the table, without any inhibitions at all, no sense of shame, nothing but “OK, what’s for dinner?” basically. The young lady driver just couldn’t stop staring at Trish and I could imagine the gears turning over in her mind—maybe she’d thought pretty much what I’d just thought about her, maybe her taking Trish on that dinner table and feasting on her delicious flesh, something I hadn’t done yet myself, but then again the morning was yet to come.

“Thanks, we greatly appreciate the on-time delivery,” I blurted out which caused the young girl to snap out of her reverie once more. “Yeah, uhmm... damn, yeah, thanks, have a great evening,” she said. I followed her to the door. As she stepped outside she turned and I held the door open. She looked at me, head to toe, then said “Are you a sick old bastard using her for some nefarious purpose?”

I was kinda shocked at it, really, but it only took a moment to know exactly what to say:

“Yes, I am, I’m using mind control on her. I tranced her fucking brains out earlier and I just gave her 25 orgasms in under 2 hours and I still haven’t really even started.” I nodded to the sign just behind her and to the left and she turned to look at it:

Scott Hypnotherapy—Making Dreams Come True One Trance At A Time

The look on her face as she took it in was worth the cost of dinner 10 times over. She turned to me and stared, not quite the true blank stare I loved so much but very close to it.

“You... you’re not kidding, are you?” she managed to say.

“No, I never lie about hypnosis. I have an awful lot of fun with it, and so do the people I work with, but I never lie. If you’re ever interested in learning just what you can experience, feel free to stop by. I mean that, seriously. You have no idea what you’re capable of, but I do.”

I smiled and she smiled weakly back at me. Then the surface reality set in and she really smiled and winked at me hard. She turned and headed to her car laughing the whole time.

I closed the door thinking I’d just invited some trouble into my life, but then again considering what I’d already done with Trish, that line in the sand had been blown away for hours now. I stepped back into the kitchen and saw Trish emptying the honey walnut shrimp container onto a plate on the table. She was leaning into the table slightly and it was the first time I’d been able to see her legs in brighter lighting conditions, naked and beautiful, her calves flexing as she did that lean forward, the shape of the cheeks of her ass flexing as well.

I honestly can’t say why that’s attractive to me, like I couldn’t say that about the curve of the calves, it just did, it just does, it just is and that’s that. I stepped behind her and knelt down as she started to turn and I said “No, don’t move. I could use a command to make you immobile right now, but for the first time in several hours you are actually fully conscious at this moment so this will be the first real experience for you in that state and I want you to feel this, OK?”

She slightly shifted her upper body forward where it had been before she turned, looking back at me on my knees there behind her, my entire focus being her ass. “Does it sound strange to you that I desperately want to say ‘Yes, Sir’ to you right now?”

I laughed softly: “No, Trish, while you are technically conscious, you are under the effects of multiple post-hypnotic suggestions right now, one of which is preventing you from being consciously aware of everything that’s happened to you so far, at least up to the moment you woke up on my bed a few minutes ago. I apologize for that, I wanted to catch that driver before she rang the doorbell which is probably what woke you up.”

“I feel fantastic, and while I believe you are honoring The Offer, I have to admit I feel pretty freshly fucked, and I like it. Will you tell me anything that’s happened so far?”

I smiled and simply said “I’ll give you one piece: at least 20 orgasms.”

“Ah, that would explain this buzz I have, it’s quite nice, thank you. Seems I had a bath earlier as well, I’m guessing?”

“Yes, I did bathe you, all of you, squeaky clean.” I said it and then realized what I’d said saw her react to it and before it went another moment I simply said “I’m sorry, but I have to do this...” and I grabbed her ass, firmly, spreading the cheeks wide exposing her beautiful pink and very wet pussy and stretching her rosebud just the way I always imagined it would be and then I tongue-fucked her as deeply as I could in that moment.

She was delicious, exactly as I’d suspected, and her juices from earlier that had slicked her up as they trickled from her slit down over her rosebud as I had used The Magic Palm on her were still there, adding to the taste and the pungent aroma of her sex and rosebud. Yes, I got hard pretty much instantly, yes she collapsed onto the surface of the table knocking several napkins across the floor along with most of the plastic utensils.

I didn’t want the damned Panda Express even as the smell of that orange chicken fought against Trish’s scent for my olfactory focus. My gustatory focus was my tongue in her ass, deeper and deeper, and I swear if I could have dislocated my jaw manually just by thinking about doing it I would have so it would give me another half inch to push into her delicious asshole.

There, I said it, happy?

She was still clean, she was still fresh, and only her own juices and flavoring were filling me with everything she was as I licked it, stabbed it, stroked it, circled it, and focused intently on her and only her while I rimmed her for 2-3 minutes. Her legs started trembling, her glutes flexed under my hands, and when her orgasm finally slammed into her she screamed my name for the first time and hopefully not the last.

As the pleasure subsided I realized I’d told myself I’d be giving her the night off earlier and just backtracked on my own decision but figured it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, with a once-in-a-lifetime girl, and that rosebud and that ass and those legs were not something I wanted to regret passing up on for even one single millisecond further. I gently lapped at her, taking a few deep swipes along her slit, enjoying every drop of her essence as best I could for those precious seconds of my life.

I stood up behind her, leaned in and kissed her in the middle of her back right on the spine and said “Thank you, Trish, you are so very delicious and I intend to have you for breakfast and lunch tomorrow, but right now I need some of that damned Panda Express ’cause it was a lot of money and I am quite fungry.”

She started giggling, then really laughing and it caught me and I started laughing as well. She managed to push herself off the table, then turned to face me and I knew what she wanted to do, I saw it coming, I felt it in my gut, and before she could get close enough to kiss me I stopped her: “I know, Trish, and I’m incredibly grateful, but honor The Offer, please. I’d like nothing more than to take you, right here, right now, kiss your breath away and yes I’d love to make love with you right here on this table even in spite of being hungry for you more than that food, but I won’t.”

She stopped, and her face went from that bright wide laughing smile to not quite sadness but more inquisitive in a moment flat.

“OK, I don’t understand that, and since The Offer is about me not remembering what’s going on with me till this is all over, that doesn’t mean you can’t talk about you, so, let’s eat, sit, and talk, shall we?”

She was a work of art, really. I nodded, knowing at some point in this process that she’d ask and there it was. We fixed our plates, got the necessities, then headed to the living room and plopped on my couch.

“So, Profes—errr... Paul. What’s the deal with this offer, where did it come from and why?” she asked followed by a big mouthful of chow mein as she twirled the fork in her lips. If she was trying to seduce me by eating that way she didn’t need to, I was already stiff and I didn’t even care to attempt to cover it. The gray sweatpants I had on were somewhat loose but the sheer amount of precum I’d been leaking since I started rimming her had soaked clean through and was quite visible so there was no hiding it anymore.

“Ah, the book of Paul, not quite as action laden as “The Book of Eli” but a tale I don’t mind telling.”

“I loved that movie, actually, and I had no clue he was blind till those last few minutes when Oldman’s character finally opened the Bible, that was a classic beautiful twist,” she added in-between the orange chicken and a bite of the honey walnut shrimp.

“It’s a great one, I have it on my home theater system, want me to fire it up?” I asked.

“No, this time, this is just us, stop sidestepping the question: why did you come up with The Offer?”

“A long time ago, in a galaxy... OK, in all seriousness, if I’m 100% honest with you will you understand it and don’t judge me over it?” I asked.

“Of course, I trust you, you’ve given me no reason to not trust you. I feel great, I’m clean, I don’t apparently have any drugs in my system, you bought me breadsticks and chicken Alfredo for lunch, you bathed me head to toe and everywhere in-between, you just gave me probably the best rim job I’ve ever had in my life, now you’re feeding me Panda Express, and you’re apparently going to eat me senseless for breakfast and lunch before our time together comes to an end in...” and she looked around.

“It’s 8:23PM...” I said as I glanced at my watch. I saw her look up down and to the left indicating some internal processing going on as she did the math and then said “... a little over 19 hours left.”

“Yep,” was all I offered while working a fork of fried rice into my mouth.

“So, The Offer. You find a girl, like me, you consider all your options, you take the chance, then... she says no, runs out of your office, reports you to the police, they come back, arrest you, your practice folds, your clients are nowhere, your assistant is out of work, you lose everything, including potentially this house, whatever money you might have wherever, and... all for what, to get some pussy and ass? That you won’t even bother to stick your dick in? I don’t get that, I really don’t, and I’m not sure I can because for some reason I don’t think you can actually explain it in a way that will make sense to anyone but you, am I right?”

“I’ll be honest and admit I’m thinking about putting you to sleep right now...” I said just letting it hang. The sudden change on her face, the absolute understanding in that moment that I had that kind of power over her, it manifested on her face as she practically went cataleptic with a fork full of fried rice in her own mouth.

“I’m kidding, Trish, just kidding. I could, of course, and you now understand that I do indeed have that power over you because you allow it to happen. You understand, on that deeper unconscious level, that your unconscious is the one making all this happen right now because it accepted my suggestions for it to use to alter your perception of your reality during this brief time we have together. I’m not making you do anything, you’re consciously aware of that aspect, yes?”

“Of course, that makes perfect sense. Hypnosis can’t be used to make someone do anything they wouldn’t normally do.”

I was waiting on that and was ready for it, with boilerplate in my head that I’d been practicing for years, so I opened my mouth and let it out.

“As a working hypnotist for several decades, I will let you in on a closely guarded secret. If you’ve ever seen any of the Harry Potter movies or read the novels the movies are based upon, you might be aware or remember the term used to describe any person that is not magical in nature or unaware that magic does actually exist in the Universe those stories are set in.”

Trish nodded as she worked on one of the chicken eggrolls. Watching her eat was a fascinating exercise in self-control because in the back of mind I wanted to be that egg roll sliding in-between her lips, just not there when she clamped down those teeth, yikes.

“The term used is “Muggles,” and it’s meant as an insult more than anything else and not in a kind way. So the running joke in the hypnosis community for a long time, since the first Harry Potter novel was published, is to refer to any person that’s not directly in the hypnosis community as a Muggle. It doesn’t matter whether they’re a practicing professional like I happen to be, or a hobbyist, or someone in any level of schooling with psychology or clinical hypnosis study background, if they don’t have any direct relationship to the community then they’re called Muggles. ”

I took a bite of my own egg roll then continued: “The running joke follows that you don’t do hypnosis in front of them, that it doesn’t exist, and so on: basically treat hypnosis as magic, because at the deepest heart of it, hypnosis really is magic.”

She nodded again, following my every word.

“There’s this belief that is preached in the hypnosis world, especially at the professional levels, that a person that’s hypnotized cannot be made to do anything they would not normally do when they’re in their normal conscious waking state. The secret I mentioned earlier? Well, the secret is this: that entire concept is bullshit and here’s why.”

Now she leaned slightly forward as I got to the meat and potatoes of it.

“The presumption of that statement is that a hypnotized person can’t be made to do anything they wouldn’t normally do, and it’s the normal part that causes all the problems. One of the basic caveats of hypnosis is that it alters the “normal” conscious awareness so, in effect, yes you can make someone, or influence them, to do things they wouldn’t normally find acceptable if you alter the very perception of what they determine is “normal” in the first place. Following along? I hope so.”

She nodded, smiling, and leaning back to get more comfortable. She’d finished most of her food, and was sipping her Sobe as my eyes found the focus on her legs again. She caught me again like she did outside the Fazoli’s: “OK, you keep looking at my legs, I get it, you like them. It’s not an issue for me, I want you to look at them, I want you to like them. Let’s just do this, put your food on the table.”

I did, then she came over to my side of the couch and told me to scoot over just a bit towards the middle so I did. She stepped between my legs and I couldn’t help but reach up and grab a piece of that beautiful deliciously soft ass. She stopped, turned, smiled, and said “It’s OK to touch me, anyway you want.” She turned away from me giving me full access to both cheeks and I just played with her ass for about a minute solid.

“Would it sound strange to you that one of my favorite things with a past boyfriend was just laying on my bed with him massaging my ass? It’s a nice sensation, and he—like you it seems—really loves my ass so, play with me, Paul, grab that ass nice and tight, grab it, GRAB IT!” she yelled and so I did grab it.

I grabbed it and squeezed it harder than I thought she’d find comfortable and she just backed into my hands pushing against them to match my strength. “Harder, squeeze harder, please” she asked and I did. It felt amazing, it really did, and then I just internally said “What the fuck...” and I took my right hand off and spanked her right cheek hard. It wasn’t a soft slap, I mean I really laid into it and the flesh of her ass just rippled because of it. She yelped loudly and looked at me over her shoulder. All I saw was that one eye because of the angle, and then I heard a ragged breath, followed by:

“yessssss do that again... please”

So I spanked her again, harder. “yess... harder... the other cheek too... please”

I just began spanking her as she stood there in front of me, that perfect ass right there, just waiting for me to split her wide open once more with my tongue but this was a new experience for me, and maybe for her as well so I followed her lead. After maybe 10 hard spanks on each cheek they started taking on a rosy glow to them, but she insisted I keep going.

Her breathing grew increasingly ragged, then I noticed in-between spanks that she was juicing pretty seriously, seeing the clear fluids draining down the insides of both thighs so I took a chance.

“You like this, don’t you, girl,” and as I said it I knew what was going to happen: the utterance of “girl” would drop her right back down into trance and I really didn’t want that just yet but she felt too good in my hands to stop.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” and those goosebumps set off once more as every hair follicle on her perfect ass cheeks fired up and stood tall and proud. I changed the spanks to go from a spank then removing my hand to spanking and taking a firm grip on that ass each time, really seriously grabbing a handful of ass the way I’d always wanted.

“Good girl, is this what you want, to be spanked, hard, played with like this, like a piece of meat for me, juicing up that delicious pink slit in the process? You are very wet now, girl, is my spanking your perfect ass turning you on?”


The slurring was awesome, and my cock just rose and kept on rising. “Good girl, feel this now as I stroke your slit, helpless to resist my touch.”

I took my right hand just as she said that and then hooked my thumb just right to dip into her slit, getting her juices all over that thumb because it was going into her rosebud but I needed to delay that for just a moment. I’d been watching it, pulsing and throbbing, in time with spanks, and decided there was a better solution:

“Girl, relax your rosebud completely, now” and I put a strong emphasis on the word “now” and her unconscious made it happen. The muscles of her anus relaxed, and my thumb slid in with almost no resistance whatsoever.

“Feel that, girl, feel that helplessly obedient rosebud surrender itself to my thumb, that thumb that’s now finger fucking you slowly and deeply” as I did just that, inserting my thumb literally as far as I could. “Tell me you love this, girl, now.”

“I... love... this...” she was able to grunt out in-between the moments when she pushed herself back on my thumb as I was inserting it. She was trying to match my insertion with her pressing back so I kept my pace steady. “Tell me you love it when I thumb fuck your rosebud, girl, now.”

I just loved hearing her voice, really, I loved hearing her say the things I wanted to hear her saying. I knew she was feeling good, I knew I wasn’t hurting her, and this was all consensual between two adults. I saw nothing wrong with what I was doing as she said:

“I love... I love it when you thumb fuck my rosebud, Sir.”

“Look at me over your shoulder and tell me to thumb fuck your rosebud, girl.”

“Thumb fuck my rosebud, Sir.”


“Beg me, girl.”


So I did, for another 2 minutes or so as she gave in to the pleasure I wanted her to experience. After maybe 3 more orgasms, detected by that all-too-familiar trembling she did as I continued grabbing that awesome ass cheek with my left hand. I finally extricated my thumb and told her to relax, breath deeply, stand up straight, and then sit on the couch where she had been planning to be before I derailed that train of thought with that groping session.

After she settled into position I said “Wake up, Trish, now

Her eyes popped open instantly, as expected, and she shifted her head left then right, and finally it dawned on her what had happened in some degrees. Anything that happened to her in direct trance was automatically hidden so that little session of thumb fucking was not available to her conscious mind from that moment I called her “girl” to that moment I woke her up.

“So, I was standing there and I know you were getting some cheek on, then I’m here so I presume you decided to trance me again for some reason but I can’t seem to recall what happened even just... a few moments ago?”

“Correct, anything you do in trance is hidden consciously and you’re conscious now so there’s that hole, that gap in the memory structure. Tomorrow at a little after 4PM I’ll use one last command to trigger that total recall and it’ll hit you like a Mack truck going 90 MPH with a full load, I promise.”

I smiled, she laughed, then noticed she’d been juicing pretty hard, touching herself and noticing just how slick she was. “I’m getting this all over your couch, you know.”

“No worries, I was going to toss it in a few weeks anyway, IKEA has a new collection coming soon from what I understand. This whole place could use a makeover, including the office as well.”

“I can help with that, if you’d like?” she offered and I knew right then and there she was just fine, with everything, The Offer, me, the trancing, and everything I still intended to do to her, with her, and for her, for as long as she needed my help.

“Thanks, Trish, that means a lot, and I suppose I could use a female’s touch—figuratively speaking of course. Casey has some ideas as well, perhaps you two ladies could have a meeting of the minds sometime and see what comes from it.”

“I’d love that, she’s a pretty funny gal, you’re lucky to have her.”

“Yes, I am indeed. So where was I, oh yeah, the issue of making someone do something they wouldn’t normally do by changing their perceived reality.”

“Wait,” she said. She stretched out her legs, placing them directly in my lap as she lay back a bit, rearranging the cushions behind her so she was completely on the couch itself. “My legs are yours, enjoy them, and teach me, Professor.”

I giggled and then started feeling those wonderfully soft legs, something I had been wanting to do since that moment I saw her step out from her car earlier that day. What a crazy sequence of events to have gone from her nearly taking me off at the knees of my own legs to only barely—looking at my watch, 9:13PM—8 hours later give or take a half hour. I had her legs in my lap, I had her on my couch, I had the keys to her mind and could do anything I really wanted and I knew she’d be OK with it. I could take out my cock and literally skull-fuck her as the saying goes and I get the impression she’d just ask me if that was the best I could do after nearly choking her to death.

There was more to Trish than met the eye, obviously, but at that moment all I truly wanted to do was enjoy the feeling of her skin in my hands, those wonderfully scultped legs, and her company.

“Here’s a perfectly simple example of how to alter the perception of someone’s reality: tell someone, anyone at all, that’s in their “normal” waking state aka conscious and aware that the number 6 doesn’t exist anymore, it’s simply vanished, gone, poof, like a fart in the wind as the saying goes. A person in a normal consciously aware state of mind will more than likely look at you like you’re crazy and start an argument with you that the number 6 is of course real, it exists, and then they’ll count from 1 to 10 on their 10 fingers, 5 on each hand.”

She giggled: “The classic example of hypnotic amnesia, I’ve seen my roomie do that so many times, it’s always good for a laugh but it gets long in the tooth fast.”

“Yes, it does. But when it does work, you laugh if you’re the hypnotist and say “You’re absolutely right, how silly of me. SLEEP!” and drop them into trance—OK it’s not that easy but the next step requires them being in a state of hypnosis, and it doesn’t even have to be that deep.”

A nod, she was still with me as I stroked her calves and she made a soft sigh as she closed her eyes. Apparently she enjoyed my touch very much so I just kept right on doing it even in spite of her right leg now resting right on my erection which I know she felt.

“Now, in a state of hypnosis or trance, if you suggest to them—by communicating with their unconscious mind—that the number 6 doesn’t exist anymore, it’s simply vanished, gone, poof, like another fart in the wind and their unconscious mind will alter their perception of the framework upon which they previously based their reality on. In this new altered reality, for lack of a better phrasing, the unconscious mind will now provide the conscious mind with this new framework of reality upon emerging from the trance.”

“That’s a nice phrase, ‘framework of reality’, I’ll have to remember that one,” Trish sighed out softly. She was tired, I knew she was, and I had planned to put her to sleep for the night at about 10PM anyway so, if she drifted off during my little lesson so be it. I liked having her helpless in my arms, so I looked forward to carrying her to bed where we’d both have a nice deep restful sleep later that night.

“Emerge that very same person who only a few minutes prior thought you were crazy insane and loony, ask them to count their 10 fingers, 5 on each hand, and watch them try to figure out what the hell is going wrong when they get to 10 on the 9th finger and wonder why they suddenly have 11 fingers total.”

“Yep, that’s the funny part, and it doesn’t really last long because some folks will panic at it, like their entire reali—hey, wait, now I get it, they panic because the suggestions did actually alter how they perceive it. Son of a bitch,” she blurted out, surprising herself at the revelation.

“Exactly, it’s a bit odd to watch someone count 1-2-3-4-5-7-8-9-10—and... they do it again, and then again, and it just gets more confusing to them each time they repeat it. At some point it stops being funny to them, as you’re already aware of, and they really start questioning their own reality on a fundamental level. You say “SLEEP!” again, take them back into trance, remove the effects of the suggestion, make sure the unconscious is OK with what’s happened and that everything is back to “normal,” then emerge them and have ’em verify they’re “normal” once more.”

“And of course when they emerge they are “normal” again and count 10 fingers normally, that’s so cool. Would you do me a favor, as crazy as it might sound?” Trish asked.

“Anyt—well, let’s just say almost anything, yes,” I blurted out knowing if I had said anything then that would open the door to making love to her and I knew she wouldn’t pass it at that point.

“Please, massage my feet, those boots of mine aren’t the most comfortable things to wear,” she said with another sigh. She settled herself a little deeper into the couch cushions even as she lifted her legs and bent them at the knees just slightly. Both feet, and I admit I’m not a foot fetishist in the slightest, but I did tell her by the wording of The Offer that I would enjoy every inch of her head to toe, there in my face, all mine just like the rest of her, and I had an idea. I wanted to do it, and so I did it.

“Trish, look at me, now.”

She opened her eyes and I spoke: “I’m not trancing you, you will not surrender to trance for this little thing I want to do for you, but I need to ask your unconscious mind for some help to make it fun, so look into my eyes, relax, and stay aware as I speak to that sleeping part of you. It’ll feel just a little odd, but you’ll enjoy the experience, say yes I understand if you do.”

“I understand,” she softly said. Her feet still there, perhaps the slightest bit of catalepsy forming in her legs as I started.

“sleeping Trish, I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, girl,” and I watched Trish’s reaction to that word, she did gasp slightly but she was still conscious so I continued.

“I want to do something special for waking Trish now and I need your help, girl.”

Again, just the slightest gasp and then waking Trish said “Wow, this is so weird, it’s... cool... though...”

“Stay with me, Trish, I know it’s a bit odd but it’ll pass in a few moments. sleeping Trish, I want to massage waking Trish’s feet, and yours too actually, but I’d really love it if you helped her feet relax even more deeply than she might think they can relax, and I’d like her toes to become very sensitive to my tongue and my mouth as I intend to suck on them softly while I massage her feet directly. In fact, as I’m sucking on her toes, I’d like you to allow waking Trish to feel as though my tongue and my lips are softly sucking on her clit during this little massage session. I’m sure that you can, sleeping Trish, make waking Trish feel my tongue and my lips on her clit just as her toes will feel as I suck and lick on them softly.”

By that point waking Trish was literally beside herself; apparently the dissociation was pretty strong for her and all she kept whispering was “wow... wow... wow...” over and over again.

“sleeping Trish, if you can do this for me, and for waking Trish, and for you, please say the words ‘I sleep and obey, Sir, it will be done’ softly, now.”

waking Trish’s mouth opened, the words came out softly as instructed, and I thanked sleeping Trish for her help and told her to enjoy the massage just as fully as waking Trish would.

Trish, of course, sat up straight: “What the fuck just happened? That was, so weird but so awesome at the same time, I mean it wa—”

“rag doll”

I caught her mid-thought, and I knew I shouldn’t have done it but I wanted her to obey me and that’s part of our deal, so that was that. She flopped back like a rag doll would and couldn’t speak. I looked at her and told her she could speak and swallow as required and blink and look at me too if necessary, but no other muscles would respond to her control. Her legs had dropped into my waiting hands as I caught them. I lifted her right foot to my mouth and separated the big toe individually then I licked the pad of it which hit her like a lightning bolt from the heaven’s above.

“HOLY SHIT!” she screamed, unable to really do much else.

“You like that, yes? I asked then I “deep-toed” her big toe on that foot again, taking the whole thing into my mouth as I sucked on it pretty hard. To be perfectly honest it was the first time in my life I’d ever done any of that, all of it was totally on the fly in those moments. It was just an idea that popped into my head that I thought she’d enjoy and another example of just the kind of stuff that trance logic can make possible with hypnosis.

Orgasm number whatever happened, and even in spite of her being under the rag doll suggestion that trembling in her legs was unmistakable when it started, and grew in intensity as I just kept sucking on that big toe. I had held my tongue flat against the pad when I thought “Hey, why not” so I then pulled the tongue back inside my mouth and flicked it from the inner part of the pad to the tip.

“OH MY...” and the rest of what came out of Trish’s mouth were just grunts and guttural sounds that made my cock say “HELLO!!!” one more time. It was hilarious to watch her suffer the orgasm and not be able to move. I reached out with my right hand and took hold of her left foot, lifting it up to my mouth as I pulled that big toe out of my mouth purposely making the “pop” sound as I did. I took her left foot and licked it from the back-bottom of the heel clear up to the ball then started licking the backs of her toes and she just went insane.

I keep my house clean, really clean, so I had no issues doing this for her at all. I didn’t detect or taste anything that caused me any issues, so I just started alternating between licking her left and right feet, tickling the underside of the toes, sucking on them at random, and deep-toeing the big toe on the left foot too. I spent like 5 minutes doing this, one foot then the other, and watching her—one might have considered it a tactile confusion induction because after that much licking and sucking she was literally drooling and her eyes just rolled clear back in her head.

That’s when I knew it was time to put her to sleep for the night for real. I scooted out from under her, then lifted her utterly limp, loose, and relaxed body in my arms. I just stood there watching her twitch like crazy as the pleasure continued to wrack her brain and body and would more than likely continue to do so for several more minutes. Such a sleepy Angel, I honestly in that moment regretted so many choices in my life like never pursuing this side of hypnosis: the recreational and even the erotically charged side, for pleasure purposes.

I’m not into pain, at all. There’s a difference between the kind of pain the spanks were capable of producing and true actual pain in terms of suffering. Suffering was obviously never going to be part of my sphere, meaning my circle of influence with those persons and events around me in my immediate life. And I never considered spanking as painful based on so many people I’d met in the BDSM community in the Baltimore area and D.C. as well—it’s a lot more people than most would imagine, probably because of the “power broker” nature of that area. The more responsibility someone has in their daily lives, the more apt they are to seek out some way to let all that go and turn over their control to another by the practice of surrender.

That stuff was never my draw and I found myself more aligned with the lifestyle of D/s or Dominance and submission. After years of not understanding myself I met a Domme which is how the female Dominants tend to identify themselves—a male Dominant is traditionally known as Dom. She taught me many things, but we were never into the relationship on that deeper level; I had made it clear I wasn’t looking to “sub” myself out but I desperately wanted to learn so I wasn’t so ignorant. She taught me many things but that concept of someone having so much responsibility in their daily real-world lives is a seriously stressful thing for most, especially in that seat of governmental power in Washington D.C.

She explained that many of her clients were actually very important people in the U.S. Government and their identities could never be revealed. It was a very simple thing that many of them came to her, and many other Doms and Dommes in the D.C.—Baltimore-Vienna VA metropolitan areas, looking to literally just leave their lives and all that stress at the door. They’d shed it all like their clothing and turned themselves over for control by another, that all too elusive feeling of utter surrender that so many people have buried inside.

With respect to my own desires, and after many discussions, she told me that if she herself had to slap a label on me she’d consider me a Pleasure Dom with Daddy tendencies. That “Daddy” part really weirded me out long ago but I am well aware now that the intention and use of the label and term has absolutely nothing to do with familial relations as in a Dad/Father and a relationship with his own blood-related daughter(s) or son(s). The term in the D/s sense is someone that makes sure the girls or boys under his care are looked after like a real Dad/Father might care for their real children but not the same, not even close. I always cared about the girls in my life, even after they become women; it didn’t matter, I still felt the same way.

Casey was a perfect example: she was 37 years old, still not sure what to do with her life and she could walk away from me and my practice at any time. I provided her every benefit she could want including a good salary, lots of trancing if she wanted it, and pretty much anything else I could manage to provide at her request. I liked helping others, it was just that simple, really.

In the situation with The Offer, I never thought for even one second that for everything I was willing to provide a girl for the rest of her life I was asking too much considering the limitations of my using them for just that 24 hour period: hands and fingers, mouth and tongue, no cock.

I had some inkling in my past that I had a submissive side in me, and I really did want to explore it someday. I looked down at Trish resting in my arms, snuggling into me unconsciously as I stood there holding her. A part of me thought “Damn, can you imagine what it would be like to teach this girl everything you can and then have her take you where you really want to go, deep inside, to surrender yourself to her, for her control, for her pleasure, exactly the same way she’s surrendered herself to you?”

It wasn’t that voice that time, it was just me, dreaming about that one other big fantasy I had in my life: to be taken, utterly enthralled, dropped, tranced, without any ability to prevent it from happening. To encounter an attractive powerful Dominant woman that was so good at hypnosis that she would literally be hypnotic and upon meeting her I’d surrender my very soul just for the honor of letting her put my overactive conscious mind to sleep for a bit and playing with sleeping Paul.

But that remained a dream, and I had a sleepy Angel I needed to attend to. I carried Trish to my bed, laying her gently on the side I normally didn’t sleep on. I retrieved the comforter from a drawer and placed it gently over her and she snuggled into a fetal position once more. I leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, told sleeping Trish it was time for them to rest deeply all night long, thanked her for trusting me once more, and then I went to clean up the food stuffs and mess before getting in bed myself. I looked at my watch: 10:01PM.

“Not too shabby if I do say so myself,” I muttered as I collected the items from the living room table and couch area, then I cleaned off the kitchen table. I checked the front door, made my way to my office lobby again, checked that, turned off all the lights, exited, then one final look around. I always left one light in the living room on just to dissuade any potential burglars from the attempt. I’ve been in that neighborhood just a bit over 10 years, not one incident, no problems with vehicle break ins either.

That might have had something to do with the fact that my next door neighbor was a Silver Spring police officer and his police cruiser was regularly parked in front of his house like 10 feet from my driveway, of course. Nothing better to make idiots thinking about doing something stupid like breaking into a home change their minds faster than seeing a PD cruiser right there in plain view.

I headed to the bedroom, then the bathroom to stuff my still damp clothes in the hamper but figured I better start them in a load of laundry or at least let them soak or they’d start to smell. Back to the kitchen then off to the utility room where I loaded the washing machine with the clothes, the robe, and the other stuff from the hamper. I’d already emptied my pants pockets earlier when I grabbed the credit card so that was that. I started loading the washer, dumped in a small amount of the detergent and then waited about 4 minutes for the water level to rise enough at which point I stopped the cycle.

Back to the bedroom and there lay Trish, in my bed, where I would be sleeping as well. I knew that I should sleep on the couch, I knew it but I ignored it. I’d told myself earlier I could control myself, that I would not do anything explicitly not agreed to in The Offer. I’d even tranced myself earlier when I was waiting for her appointment and made sure I was not going to cross lines even on the unconscious level.

I’d also given myself a gift of sorts that was about to be presented to me. I wasn’t sure it would work but I really truly hoped it would.

I put the night-light on in the bathroom, a very low brightness blue-tinted light mounted in an AC socket, then I made my way to my bed. I climbed in under the comforter only about 1 foot away from Trish laying there on the queen size mattress. She was so peaceful in those moments and I really hated to disturb her but I had to do it. I rolled back, put my watch on the dresser by the bed, tapped the lamp once—it was one of those funky touch activated models—then rolled back over and just waited as my eyes adjusted to the blueish tint now permeating the room.

I waited, and waited, listening to Trish breathing in, and out, slowly, which I’m sure would have sent me off to sleep soon but I wanted to rest, really, and so I’d already covered all the bases with the suggestions I’d given myself. Now I just needed to take the swing.

“Trish, it’s time to sleep, girl, deep restful sleep, all night long, resting comfortably here with me, sleeping deeply all night long without any disturbances at all. You want to sleep deeply for me, girl, say yes.”

The slightest softest “yes” you ever heard, and I hate to admit it again but it made my cock painfully hard in a few moments time.

“Such a sleepy girl, you will sleep for me, all night, but I’d like to sleep too and I need you to help me, girl.”

Now my gift to myself, and I prayed it worked.

Trish opened her eyes, reached out her right hand to me, index finger pointing right at me, and tapped me on the forehead, right in the middle, and then slowly dragged her finger down, down, down the bridge of my nose. I hadn’t had anyone do that for me in 20 years, it had been so long and I wanted it so badly that with this chance I couldn’t let the opportunity slip away.

“Sleepy baby, sleep for me, sleep with me, now...” and she timed the “now” to match the very moment her finger released the tip of my nose.

I honestly can’t recall seeing her arm go limp on the bed as she surrendered herself to sleep there beside me, all as I’d suggested earlier that day in my office, because I myself was already gone.