The government, we must appease!!!
Please ask permission before posting this story elsewhere.
Copyright © 2000, 2006 by Sara H.
It’s been six years now, give or take, since I wrote this story, and I figured it was time to make a small change. It’s mostly in the last section... but for me, it’s been one of those aching thorns over the years. Thanks around to so many people I don’t know where to start. EyeofSerpent, trilby else, MindBender, and those of you who have written about such wonderful inductions... you continue to inspire me.
Wrysteria
by Sara H
I. WRISTY BUSINESS
“I can’t believe you are dragging me away from ‘Who Wants To Be Obscenely Wealthy’. You know it’s my favorite show!” whined Barbara, sulking in the passenger seat beside me. She crossed her arms, looking petulant and generally unhappy.
“I promise, this will be better,” I tried to reason. Seeing that it wasn’t working, I finally said, “Look. I finally quit my job, and after a week, I want to celebrate a little. I didn’t have to choose you to go out with, you know.” Her face softened a bit, and I pulled out our old private joke to get her back in the mood, “Me Jane. You Barzan!”
She finally broke into the smile I most often knew her by, and began to laugh. It was music to my ears. I didn’t want her going to the show in anything but a light, happy mood. It was important. Mistress Rochelle had said so.
We pulled into the parking lot, and she began to sound worried again. “I’ve never been to a lesbian bar, Jane. I didn’t think you had either.”
“I haven’t. It’s never been ‘me’; you know that. I just thought it would be something different. Quit worrying!” I bubbled. “Just because it’s called ‘The Tunnel of Love’ doesn’t mean a thing!” I winked.
“Yeah, but this is the kind of place where I would want to avoid a hypnotist. She might change me, you know, into a perv dyke or something!” She looked at me in mock fear, and smiled, and I laughed at her, secretly hoping inside that her reservations were justified. “You already arrrrre, my dearrrrr,” I said, poking her side.
With that, she laughed again, and we went inside.
My little tattletale pussy was already soaking my panties. Not that I was complaining...
An hour and several vodka tonics later, we took our seats in the third row of the small auditorium in the back of the club.
Looking around, I saw that the space was ingenious. It was tiny... clearly not meant to hold the entire club, and the atmosphere was intimate and cozy. Completely packed, there were maybe one hundred of us in five rows that surrounded an arched stage. Once the doors to both the auditorium and its entryway were closed, the bar was barely audible when everyone was silent. With the light conversation going on, I couldn’t hear it at all.
Finally, the lights dimmed, and typically eerie music wafted through the room. A woman’s voice, low and dramatically seductive, announced, “The Tunnel of Love proudly presents... in a rare performance... Rochelle... Mistress of Mesmerism!”
Applause followed, and a spotlight shone up from the floor and Rochelle stepped forward from behind the rising curtain, the reversed shadows giving her a curious look of maniacal dignity. She was wearing a dark green catsuit with black satin elbow length gloves and thigh high boots that matched the leather collar that lay loosely around her neck. The green of the spandex highlighted her emerald eyes... they seemed to glow from behind the shadows, and I even thought she might have looked over at me. I shivered with the memory of serving her, my body quickening its arousal.
The lights above her slowly came up, and her appearance returned to its normal state, which was still incredibly beautiful, and the packed audience clapped and hooted out to her.
Barbara, loosened up by the drinks, and resigned to watching the performance, clapped right along, finally getting into the spirit of it. I looked over at her in raw appreciation. She was by no means a slender woman, but she was voluptuously attractive, and my mind had been moving to her all evening. “I hope Rochelle is pleased,” I thought, feeling my clit zing at the possibility.
Rochelle went to the right edge of the stage and pulled a stool over, sitting down, creating a surprisingly casual mood. “Tonight, I’d like to try something a little different,” she said, looking out with a smile. “Those of you who know my show know that I usually work in groups, but sometimes, I like to really spend time with someone, and take them somewhere new and wonderful. Do any of you mind? Any objections?”
The audience answered with enthusiastic applause; obviously they were interested in whatever Rochelle wanted to show them. I wondered how many had been shown “new and wonderful” places before.
“Rather than pick a volunteer, and just for the fun of it, I’ve decided to randomly draw from the ticket stubs. The matching number will be the center of my attention tonight!”
The woman who had taken our tickets walked up to the edge of the stage, carrying a very unassuming cardboard box, presumably full of the ticket stubs. Rochelle reached in, and pulling her hand out, took a long, slow look over the audience.
“And the lucky lady tonight is... two, six, one, one, eight, six, seven!”
I didn’t have to look, but I did, just for the show of it. It was Barbara’s stub, and lovely Rochelle had used the number I had given her, just as she said she would. Obviously I had pleased her, and my nipples sent a spark on the hotline wire straight to my clit.
I helped Barbara stand despite her objections, and I don’t know if it was out of helplessness or embarrassment that she made her way to the stage. Either way, she looked red-faced and unhappy. She gave me one of her ‘when we get out of here I’m going to kill you’ looks, but I just smiled and waved and clapped with the rest of the audience.
Standing up, Rochelle offered Barbara the stool, and Barbara sat, since there was not much else she could do. She gave Rochelle a wan, nervous smile and looked my direction, but I knew that she could not see me over the brightness of the stage lights. My fingers made their way to my beckoning clit, teasing lightly through the silk of my panties. Looking around, I found that I was definitely not alone.
II. A WRISTED DEVELOPMENT
“Relax, dear, you look terribly uncomfortable,” soothed Rochelle, locking eyes with Barbara. “Let me guess. You came for the show, but you’re not really ‘at one’ with the sexual orientation around you. Don’t worry, no one is going to bite you. And we’re just going to have a little fun. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
Barbara looked shocked at having been so obvious—or maybe it was at Rochelle’s intuitive perception. At this point, even I wasn’t sure that Rochelle had needed the information I had given her.
“What may I call you?” asked Rochelle gently.
“Bar—Barbara,” stammered my friend.
“Oh! So nervous! Well, I have something that will help you,” continued the Mistress of Mesmerism,” and it’s right here on my wrist. See? It’s my silver bracelet.”
“I know it’s just a bracelet, but it is a good place for you to put your attention while you’re so busy blushing. It helps the audience disappear if you focus on something. It has peculiar qualities... it bends the light at the edges and the effect is quite... soothing... don’t you think?”
“Sure it is,” said Barbara, looking at the bracelet. “But the audience is still there.” She was determined to be a skeptic.
“Yes, it’s still there, but it’s not really important. But of course, you already know that,” cooed Rochelle.
“No, I guess it’s not,” agreed Barbara, still a bit hesitant.
“What is important is that you listen to what I’m saying very carefully, because at the end, you will feel so much better about it. You can think about it even now, knowing you did well and that everyone is happy with you...”
Barbara nodded, looking a little dazed. The tip of my finger was getting wrinkled from my juices.
“By now, you can see how this bracelet commands your attention, can’t you?” prompted Rochelle.
“Yes, it commands my... ‘tention very much.” slurred Barbara.
“But this is not my really powerful bracelet. The powerful one is on my other wrist. Would you like to see it? You would, wouldn’t you...”
“’Kay,” smiled Barbara.
“Now listen to my voice very carefully, Barbara. Listen to it as if it is the only voice you can hear. Really, it’s easy, because it’s the truth. It is the only voice you can hear.
“For me to show you my other bracelet, you have to promise me something. It’s not much, really. All you have to do is promise to put on my plain silver bracelet. That’s not so bad, is it.”
“No...” Barbara responded.
“Then let me place it on your right wrist, dear. Hold out your wrist, and let me put it on you.”
My nipples got even harder as I watched Barbara listlessly hold out her hand. Rochelle slipped it onto her wrist... and something... happened. Barbara got a kind of thoughtless smile on her face as if something had taken root deep within her.
“That’s right, Barbara, it’s better than sex, isn’t it.”
“Better than... sex...”
“And it’s opening a portal to your inner mind, where we can get to know each other much better. By the way, have you noticed that the audience has gone?”
“Gone...”
The room erupted in applause, but Barbara sat perfectly still. We did not exist for her anymore... only Rochelle existed.
“Now, look at my other bracelet. Look at the large amber stone in the center of it... glowing, intensifying the feeling that your own bracelet is giving you. You can see the light radiating out and into your pupils, opening the portal more and more, can’t you?”
“Yesssssss....”
“Opening it so much that we communicate beyond words, so that you only need to hear, but not listen. The words flow into you and mix with your own thoughts... making it harder and harder to tell them apart.”
A tiny bit of spittle was forming on Barbara’s lower lip. I wanted to taste it. I was burning as I watched Rochelle take my best friend.
“The energy of the amber isn’t light at all, Barbara dear. It’s not necessary to keep looking. All keeping your eyes open does is distract you from the feelings of your own bracelet as they cascade through you. We both know that the feeling is so relentless and addicting that you have to feel more of it. All you need to do is close your eyes for a moment, and reopen them. They will no longer see anything but the energy of the amber. Go ahead dear, it’s all right.”
Barbara’s eyes closed, and I heard a slight whimper from her... and from me as I noticed that her crotch had a large dark stain.
Barbara opened her eyes, and even from my seat in the third row, they looked incredibly glassy and unfocused.
“That’s right Barbara, it does feel easier to watch the amber rays and let the words flow through your head. You don’t have to pay attention, because your inner mind hears me. It likes me. It trusts me. Your outer mind is a string of ‘no’s’ and underneath all that, as we peel the negative layers away, we find a ‘yes’. Do you understand all of this, dear?”
“Yes,” said Barbara, so softly that it was almost a whisper.
“Now, I want you to listen very closely again. While your outer mind keeps you skeptical and cynical, your inner mind is alert and interested in every word—is that correct?” crooned Rochelle.
“Yes,” answered Barbara, and I swear, I could hear her alertness change in the single word she spoke.
“And that ‘yes’ is your inner mind, your true self. It is what allows you to trust, allows you to fall in love; it allows you to surrender and be vulnerable. You inner mind recognizes the truth as I say it to you. Your outer mind is mean and heartless and only works to protect you. But it doesn’t know how to choose between good and bad. It protects you part of the time, but it also keeps you from having a good time, from hearing the truth. It keeps you from doing what is best for your inner mind, what is best for the real you.
“Luckily, the inner mind is much more powerful than the outer mind. In fact, the only power the outer mind has is the power that the inner mind gives it. You feel how correct this is, don’t you. You feel the power surging within you now as you let your inner mind gain sway. Tell me.”
“Yes,” came Barbara’s response again, filled with energy and awe.
“In fact, you resent your outer mind ruining your fun, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You can even see the barrier now, beginning to block the amber rays of ecstasy. It’s the grey wall directly in front of you. That is the wall of your outer mind, the barrier that keeps you isolated. There is a switch on it, marked ‘OUTER MIND POWER’. Right now, it is in the ‘on’ position. You want to turn it off, don’t you? No need to answer... I already know you do.
“Your outer mind is sending you messages, warning you not to do it, that you will be defenseless, that you will lose control, even that you might die—but it is only a machine. An automated recording. It doesn’t have a real clue, but is only afraid of change. Do you hear the warnings coming in?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you do. And they are so annoying. All you have to do is turn off the switch, and shut down your outer mind, and the wall will crumble, as the relentless, addictive pleasure of the amber returns. I know your inner mind trusts me and knows that no harm will come to you. There is no danger. I know it and you know it. When you feel ready to completely trust me, just reach out and turn off the switch. That’s all, just turn it off. Just let your outer mind shut down for awhile. When you have turned off the switch, let me know by saying, ‘power off, inner mind ready for the truth.’ Do you understand? Just nod your head, Barbara.”
Barbara nodded her head up and down, and then sat unmoving, on her stool, staring straight ahead, unblinking, unseeing.
I could see Rochelle was tense... and I knew this was the real turning point. I could feel the sweat on my own brow, and the suspense in the audience was absolutely tangible. You could have heard a mouse breathing.
The moments stretched on, but the lovely Hypnotist was patient... just when I was about to give up on her, Barbara’s mouth opened, and she said in a clear, strong voice, “Power off, inner mind ready for the truth.”
Without even having to think about it, I came. Hard.
III. WRISTFUL THOUGHTS
As I came down from the fizzling stars of my own ecstasy, I noticed Rochelle had turned to face the audience and acknowledge our moans, greater than any applause—with a small smile, she bowed gracefully. “Oh, but we are just getting started with Barbara. Please pay close attention as she takes on any thought I now desire for her. I have taken her to a place beyond resistance, where even memories can be altered... and thus her core beliefs. Would you like that?”
“YES!” cried the audience in unison. The scent of arousal was definitely in the air, and as I gave a sideways glance, I noticed that several couples were openly engaging in heat-creation themselves.
I could have sworn that Rochelle got a twinkle of inspiration in her eye at that moment. Turning back to Barbara, she resumed her enthralling monologue. And Barbara wasn’t the only woman falling to Rochelle’s sublime charms.
“Barbara, it seems that I forgot to mention one thing about the inner mind, dear. It doesn’t know how to work your mouth to let you speak. So all you can say is, ‘glubba,’ because that is all your inner mind knows how to form with your mouth. But every time you say that word, you get more aroused, because, by the oddest coincidence, that particular word is an ancient magical word of seduction.
“So please, Barbara, tell me, in detail, about your day today.”
“Glubba, glubba glubba glubba glubba; glubba glubba glubba. Glubba? Glubba glubba glubba glubba glubba glubba glubba... glubba glubba! Glubba glubba, glubba. Glubba glubba glubba...”
By the time she had finished her first few sentences, we were all holding our sides from laughing so hard... she was so sincere about it! It was also very hot... within a few words her hands had begun openly playing with her nipples through her clothes, and she was squirming obscenely on the stool, obviously trying to get the right “rub”.
“Stop, girl.”
Barbara’s hands quit playing with her body, and the words ended. She still squirmed a little, though. So did I.
“There is only one way for you to communicate properly now, my dear. You must let my thoughts guide you, and become your own voice. Your own thoughts are simply so much gibberish. Isn’t that so?”
“Glubba!” sputtered Barbara.
“As you let my thoughts in more, you find that you are more able to speak. My voice is your inner voice, your inner conversation. Now it is us. One thought. One voice. Now, it is me.
“My first name is Barbara. My last name is...”
“Blanchford,” offered Barbara.
The eyes of the audience began to follow the words moving back and forth like a dance. I had never seen anything so spellbinding and erotic.
“Mmmmmm, I love thinking back to the first time I had an orgasm. I can see it so clearly. My age was...”
“eight, and I was all alone in my room...”
“except for the TV, which was showing a girl being hypnotized and owned by another woman. She looked just like me. I didn’t need my fingers at all, really, but I used them anyway until they brought me to my first...”
“climax.”
“Then my first kiss... I was...”
“fourteen and so in love with Richard, I couldn’t believe the feelings his kiss gave me...”
“but I was still empty. It was then that I realized I had always been more in tune with other girls...”
“and I masturbated, thinking of him...”
“but it kept changing into my best friend... her name was...”
“Veronica. She and I shared everything...”
“Except our bodies, the thing I wanted most of all...”
“God yessssss....”
“And even now I want to be with a woman... men have always left me feeling empty and used...”
“and unloved... ”
“They just don’t understand, and not only that, they are unattractive... only women really appeal to me... understand... make me feel aroused...”
“and I’m only now realizing it...”
“but deep inside I’ve always known. Men are totally nauseating...”
“and disgusting. I can’t think of a good use for them.”
“And what I have to do... need to do... is find a woman to teach me, to show me, to follow, to obey...”
“to surrender to...”
“and that woman should be Rochelle. She is so wise and so beautiful...”
“and so...”
“easy to obey. Worthy of my complete obedience. In fact, it already feels like love.... deeper than I have ever known... and if it FEELS like love...”
“it IS love...”
“Sex with women is the only thing I crave. I don’t care if it makes me look like a slut. I have to have it... it will please Rochelle...”
“and I do want to please her. I love her so, so much...”
“and it’s my only reason to draw my next breath.... obeying Rochelle... MISTRESS Rochelle.... it makes me so fucking hot to think of myself as a slave... funny... slavebarbara...”
“sounds so sexy... so right... slavebarbara...”
“I live to serve Mistress Rochelle. I obey her completely and without hesitation. The only way to pleasure myself is to please Mistress Rochelle. My bracelet is my link to her. It cannot be removed. I do not want to remove it. I am slavebarbara. I am Mistress Rochelle’s lesbian slave. This is what I was born to be. The sight of her nearly makes me cum. The thought of her only makes me more obedient. I have no existence except through Mistress Rochelle.
“I will repeat this endlessly in my mind, even when awake and even when I am absent from her...”
“I live to serve Mistress Rochelle. I obey her completely and without hesitation. The only way to pleasure myself is to please Mistress Rochelle. My bracelet is my link to her. It cannot be removed. I do not want to remove it. I am slavebarbara. I am Mistress Rochelle’s lesbian slave. This is what I was born to be. The sight of her nearly makes me cum. The thought of her only makes me more obedient. I have no existence except through Mistress Rochelle. I live to serve Mistress Rochelle. I obey her completely and without hesitation. The only way to pleasure myself is to please Mistress Rochelle. My bracelet is my link to her. It cannot be removed. I do not want to remove it...”
“Mistress Rochelle is before me and the next words she says will be her own, and I will obey...”
“Silently now, slavebarbara.... gooooood. Now, we need to come back, to fulfill your commitment of the evening. From now on, I have direct access to your inner mind, slavebarbara, whenever you hear me say the words, ‘power off.’ And if I say, ‘thoughtless is as thoughtless does,’ my voice once again is your thoughts. And when I say out loud, or as your thoughts, ‘obedience is pleasure,’ you return to your wakened state, with every word rewriting the way you think and act and believe, with no question, conflict or hesitation. Do you understand, slavebarbara?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes... Mistress Rochelle...”
“Very, very good, slavebarbara. Your outer mind will remember and totally accept all of your thoughts and revelations, and everything you have learned, but will not recognize anything different about tonight except that you were hypnotized and that it pleased me. This is absolutely natural, and there is no need to ever have a second thought about it. Obey.”
“Yes, Mistress Rochelle.”
“Now, slavebarbara, reach down with your hands... feel the sides of your stool, and find the switch to your outer mind again... and on the count of three, turn the power back on, and let your outer mind wake up, bringing you comfortably back to consciousness in your own time, totally at peace, totally alert, totally obedient to Mistress Rochelle. One...... two....... THREE!”
It was like watching a jazz pianist playing a familiar tune and warping it into a new and amazingly seductive piece of music... and Rochelle was so much more than a Virtuoso... I was well on my way to yet another orgasm in a long, long line of heavenly explosions.
IV. THE WRIST OF THE STORY
“Welcome back, little one,” grinned Mistress Rochelle. Barbara slowly opened her eyes and looked at her owner. As soon as Barbara could focus, her face changed... but instead of shy, scared Barbara Blanchford who went to sleep, it was humble, meek and obviously aroused slavebarbara who now looked upon her eternal Mistress. I began to play with my heated cunt all over again, watching as the shadow of lust fell across the face of my transformed friend. Mistress Rochelle looked at her new property, and smiled, saying, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No, it was wonderful... Mistress Rochelle!” answered slavebarbara, bubbling over with enthusiasm. It was as if I could see her new knowledge locking in, like pieces of a puzzle, becoming more than just natural, but irreversibly correct. I pinched my nipple... then pinched harder, not caring if anyone saw or not... or heard my loud groan of pleasure.
“What was your name again?” asked Mistress Rochelle.
“Slavebarbara, Mistress...” came the puzzled reply. I knew what she was wondering... how something so obvious could be forgotten so easily.
“Good girl. Your obedience pleases me so much that it quite nearly makes me...cum!” said the Mischievous Mistress of Mesmerism.
I watched as slavebarbara nearly fell off the stool, her breath rasping, her pleasure shouted out in loud whimpers as she sat on the brink of the most powerful climax she could ever feel... at least so far.
I was close again myself, my whimpers matching hers, my hands greedily stimulating every orifice and erogenous zone I could reach... I absently wondered if I was following one of Mistress’ commands... and then through the fog of my white-hot pleasure, hoped so with all of my being.
Mistress was not done, however, and my mind reeled as she continued... “Slavebarbara, listen closely. Thoughtless is... as thoughtless does... There is nothing that would please Mistress Rochelle more than disrobing and masturbating as lewdly as possible for the lovely women in the audience. Obedience is pleasure!”
I watched, nearly drooling as a look of inspiration came over slavebarbara’s face... as her hands found the buttons of her blouse... the hooks of her bra... her eyes becoming heavy with lust and wanton need, the beautiful orbs of her naked breasts pointing her nipples out to the world. Kicking off her sandals and slowly shedding her jeans, she let her hands slide slowly and seductively down her legs, and, stepping out of them, only her deeply stained panties and silver bracelet were left to remove.
She pulled her panties tight up into the crack of her ass and against her swollen pussy... I could see it though the material as she lewdly ground her hips into the flimsy, wet material. Then she lowered them, the crotch of the panties still clutched deeply by her delta, until they finally pulled free... and slid darkly down her legs, as she reveled in her naked splendor before her Mistress... and the world.
Mistress turned again to the audience and lowered her head, so that her eyes were transformed into darkened and powerful shadows, and opening her full, moist lips, she intoned a single word...“Indulge...”
As the word echoed in my head, my hands, as if possessed by Rochelle’s will, pulled my clothes open, wandering the skin and slick crevices I’d kept perfect for her since the moment she made me hers. Other hands joined mine, and mine joined theirs as my eyes closed in a moment of complete enthrallment, offering seduction that moved back and forth from body to body like a pendulum of lust and seduction. Visions of tongues... clits... assholes... shoulders... fingers... ears... hair... all of them whipped into more and more of a fever pitch, matching Rochelle’s newest conquest as she writhed onstage.
As slavebarbara became more and more lost in her self-love, her gift to please Mistress Rochelle, I followed as every thought became lost in a sea of molten, reckless desire... orgasm after will-shattering orgasm, each reached in its perfect and obedient time, lost in the pleasure, completely possessed by the rampaging bliss of total submission, the truth again became clear... obedience is pleasure...
I screamed the scream of primal hunger and satiation... the scream of complete abandon in the pleasure of pleasing Mistress Rochelle...
...and awakened in my living room, drenched in sweat, naked, with my free hand holding the phone, barely able to breathe. “You understand what must be done then, slavejane,” came the tinny voice of my Mistress. “You must bring Barbara to the show tonight so that I may show her the true purpose of her existence. It will please me.”
“Yes, Mistress, I live to obey,” I answered. “She has already agreed to... come.” I giggled a little at my double intendre, even as my pussy shot me a delicious shiver at the thought of Mistress’ continuing pleasure.
“Then go, pet. Work my will.”
“Yes, Mistress Rochelle,” I said, hanging up the phone.
I just had time to take a shower.
I walked back to the bathroom, my lips silently following the song that was endlessly lacing every thought...
...I live to serve Mistress Rochelle. I obey her completely and without hesitation. The only way to pleasure myself is to please Mistress Rochelle. My bracelet is my link to her. It cannot be removed. I do not want to remove it. I am slavejane...