The Hypnotist's System
“Don’t think I don’t know you’re fucking that skank of a waitress down at the bar.”
“Hey, hey, hey. Look. Babe, you can’t be goin’ around flinging shit like that at people. I didn’t touch no waitress. An honourable gentleman is what I am.”
“Oh yeah? Then what’re those expenditures I see on the passbook, hmm? A hundred dollars on Monday, a hundred and fifty dollars on Thursday, another hundred on Sunday… What does the honourable gentleman have to say about that?! You aren’t fucking that waitress, then maybe you’re buying hookers! Which one is it?!”
“Hey, that’s not cool, babe. You can’t be goin’ around snoopin’ in people’s passbooks. That’s like invasion of privacy. That’s what it is. That thing’s illegal.”
“Buying fucking hookers is illegal! Fucking cheating is illegal! You damned bastard!”
As entertaining as watching this meltdown was, the woman was starting to get hysterical. Better put a stop to it now rather than risk them getting to fisticuffs. It’s happened before in my counselling sessions.
I reached down and opened a drawer under the desk I was sitting across from the bickering couple. I took out my favourite prop. Wearing it, I slammed my open palm down on the desk with a resounding...
Both of them jerked towards me and caught sight of my face. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the bright red clown nose I was wearing.
I was prepared and immediately mimicked their feelings of shock and incredulity at their counsellor suddenly looking like a joker. Using those feelings as a bridge I accessed their minds and dragged both of them into a trance state.
The light in their eyes dimmed, their shoulders relaxed, and they sank back into their chairs calmly. If not for their open eyes and upright heads, they might as well have been sleeping.
I rubbed my forehead. Getting two at once was still a bit difficult for me.
Taking off my trusty prop, I put it away.
Now, from the earlier conversation, it was pretty clear that the husband was cheating, but as a professional, it wouldn't do to just assume things.
Thankfully, I had the means to easily confirm the truth.
“Did you cheat on your wife?”
All I had to do was ask the man.
“Yes.” He replied in a voice devoid of any emotion.
“Well, glad that’s out of the way. Now, who did you cheat with?”
“Ashley, the waiter at the pub downtown.”
“Oh? Do you have a picture of her?”
Like a wooden puppet he reached into the pocket of his pants and extracted his phone. After fiddling with it for a while, he reached out across the desk and handed it to me before leaning back in his chair.
I adjusted the nameplate on my desk reading Dr Denver Adams which he had knocked askew. Then I turned my gaze to the phone screen.
I let out an involuntary whistle.
The picture was of a dark-skinned girl, completely naked. She had beautiful cocoa skin that shone under the flash of the camera, delectable breasts the size of apples, slim waist and wide hips. Her thick dark nipples that made you immediately want to pinch them were erect at the centre of her large areola and her pussy was shaved.
She was a stunner, this Ashley.
I swiped through the gallery and wasn’t disappointed to find more than one picture of her. They included her in various stages of undress, starting from a school-uniform to her birthday suit.
Cosplay and striptease. Damn this guy was really a gentleman.
The only thing marring the perfection of the photos was that in each one Ashley had covered her face with her hands. I guess she was trying to maintain plausible deniability if the guy tried his hand at blackmail.
The only other feature I could make out was that Ashley had her hair styled in frizzy curls with gold highlights.
“Show me your chat logs with her.”
I handed the phone back to him and after some fiddling, he handed it back.
I skimmed through the chat log. It was pretty much what I had expected. Lots of digital canoodling with emojis, calling the guy Daddy every other sentence, oblique references to promises of sexual rewards if the guy bought her this cosmetic, or that handbag… The whole sugar daddy schtick.
I was just about to close the case and declare my verdict when I reached the final message in the log.
“Hey Daddy! You remember the friend I talked about last time? I convinced her to come! I showed her a pic of you and she’s totally into you. Let’s meet up in front of the shop this Sunday. We’ll show you a really good time.
Love you, Daddy. ~muah~
P.S. She’s a virgin!”
There was a picture of the second girl attached. One look at her and my eyes shone. The girl probably wasn’t a virgin, just calling herself one to raise her price. But just in case she was…
I quickly sent out a reply agreeing to meet up at the designated place before deleting the entire thread as well as the contact from the phone. I also deleted all the pictures except for one, the nude, which I transferred to my laptop. Then I deleted that too.
Returning the phone to the man, I asked:
“What do you fear the most?”
He shuddered even in his trance state.
Good, good. I have those.
I went to my desktop, navigated to the folder “creepy-crawlies”, and found one of the most horrifying lizards I could: the Komodo dragon.
Using my phone to snap a picture of the man’s still dazed wife, I transferred that to my laptop and set up an infinitely looping slideshow of the three pictures – Ashley, the Komodo dragon and his wife.
Starting the slideshow, I turned the laptop towards him.
The three pictures flickered on his dazed eyes.
Closing my eyes, I reached out to him with my mind and tried to sense his emotions. After a bit of fumbling around, I caught his unique bandwidth and jacked into it.
His emotions were damped by the trance state I had put him in but if I focused hard enough, I could still catch what they were.
The shrill, screechy sound of horror. (Obviously for the lizard.)
The deep, mellow tone of lust. (Ashley! Look what you’re doing to your Daddy.)
The flat monotone of boredom. (Ah, this guy cheated cause he was bored of his wife. No guilt. Not even a bit.)
Oh well, looks like he deserved what was coming.
Using my mind, I rewired his emotions and changed up the connections. They were like three plugs slotted in three sockets and I was swapping them around.
I linked his lust to his wife, the horror to Ashley, and the boredom to the lizard. Then I played around with the degrees of the emotions until I had what I wanted.
After this, the guy would only be able to get horny when he saw his wife’s face. Any other woman he managed to undress would just make his skin crawl.
Stopping the slideshow at the lizard, I ordered his wife to say “No.” several times. Reaching into his mind, I connected the word to the boredom engendered by the image.
Done! I could just imagine what would happen. If sex was a drug, his wife was the dealer and he the addict. And he was totally hooked.
He would get horny whenever he saw his wife, but she could stop him cold with just a word. There was no doubt in my mind about who would wear the pants in this relationship in the future.
I turned my gaze to his wife who was still in her trance, drooling slightly from her partly open mouth. I checked her out from top to bottom and the corners of my lips curved upwards into a smile.
It was time to have her thank me for bringing her husband to heel.
I followed some fundamental rules, one of which was: Never cuck an innocent man. But if he was cheating… then his partner was free game.
There were two parts to my power – somnus control and somatic control.
Somnus control meant that I could put my subjects in a trance and then mess around with their minds. I could implant suggestions, erase memories and shift their association of emotions around.
The only limitation was that I couldn't control more than two people at a time and that the suggestions I planted couldn't be too drastic or they would be automatically rejected by the brain.
After a successful use of the power, the subjects would wake up feeling like the whole experience was a dream.
Somatic control, though, was actually much cruder. With it, I could control the body, but the mind would remain awake – as a prisoner within a cage of flesh.
I could use both types of control together, or in isolation.
With a snap of my fingers, both the man and the woman woke up.
I didn’t wake them fully though. For the woman, I brought her consciousness almost to the surface. It was like a light daze… the kind you have after one too many drinks and gave her back full control of her body.
The man, I woke up halfway (he’d think he was having a really vivid dream) and sealed his ability to move. Now, he could only sit in that chair and watch.
“W-what’s going on?” asked the woman groggily.
I cast a quick glance at the file to get her name.
“Hello Amanda, you arrived at my clinic for marital counselling, remember?”
“Huh? Ah, yes. I remember now… He was cheating on me, wasn’t he?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Yes, he was.”
This semi-trance state made her more susceptible to my words. My being a professional counsellor lent a lot of credence to my words in her mind. She immediately believed me.
I was surprised. From how highly strung she had been before, I expected her to try and physically assault him. Instead, she slumped in her chair in an extremely dejected manner. After a while I could her soft sobs and see her shoulders shaking.
Well, it was my first session with them so I hadn’t had time to do a full psych eval on them so I could be forgiven for my misjudgement.
Reaching into her mind, I found it awash with a sense of betrayal, sadness and only a slight tinge of anger.
She was in her early thirties. Five foot six. Pale skin with a smattering of freckles. Light brown shoulder-length hair worn loose with a burgundy streak down the side. Despite being a mother to a three-year old boy, she had kept her figure, maybe even added a few inches to her generous bust and hips. I especially liked her legs. Long with beautifully toned calves.
I licked my lips. Delicious.
Reaching into her mind, I increased the amount of anger she felt and dialled the sadness down. I could see her back straightening and the fire returning to her slightly unfocused eyes.
Timing it right, I lunged across the desk and grabbed her wrist before her haymaker could knock her husband to the floor (and break my somnus control over him).
“Let me go!”
Amanda began struggling to free her wrist from my grasp but with a sharp tug, I pulled her off balance, causing her upper body to fall onto my chest while our lower bodies were still separated by the desk.
“What’re you doing. Stop. Let me go. Mmmh…mmmh…”
I hugged her to me tightly with one arm, pinning both her arms between our chests. Then I pressed her face into my chest with my other hand at the back of her head, muffling her cries. Not like I needed to, though. My clinic was soundproof.
Reaching into her mind I found fear and a tiny bit of lust had been added to the mix. I dialled down the former until she stopped struggling and settled into my embrace. Soon, she began crying again in great heaving sobs, putting wet spots on my shirt.
I just held her and gently rubbed her back as I slowly but steadily drained the sadness out of her.
The thing about this kind of therapy was that you couldn't be crude or impatient with it.
If you just forcibly pushed the sadness down, it wouldn't solve the problem as it didn’t address the root cause. Sometime later the sadness would return.
Basically, symptomatic treatment versus holistic treatment.
What I was doing now was gradually elevating her mood, mimicking a natural recovery curve (obviously sped up several times – I didn’t have weeks).
The effects were immediate, her sobs died down to sniffles until she became peaceful in my embrace.
I bent down and whispered into her ear, “How are you feeling Amanda?”
I could feel her lust spike. Nothing unexpected as many had told me before that my voice was the very definition of sexy.
But that lust was soon overpowered by embarrassment and she began to struggle to push me away again.
Turning her face sideways so her cheek rested against my chest, thereby freeing her mouth, she replied, “I-m fine. P-please let go of me.”
I began to trail the hand with which I had been pressing her head against me down her spine. She shuddered. Even without any mental hijinks from me, her lust began to rise steadily as I reached lower and lower while her embarrassment followed suit.
Her head freed, she looked up at me with teary eyes and pleaded. “P-please stop.”
That beet red face coupled with those eyes red from crying – a combination of adorableness and vulnerability that sent a tingle right down from my spine to my loins. I knew I was pitching a tent down there.
“Ahh…” she shrieked in surprise as without any warning, I spun her around and pulled her to me causing her to be seated on the desk with her back pressed up against me, displacing a lot of files and stationery.
Her eyes widened as she caught sight of her husband who was looking at us both with semi-dazed eyes. His breathing was rapid and there was a bulge clearly visible at his crotch.
Her emotions immediately became chaotic. Since he was being so silent, she had clean forgotten about her husband.
She opened her mouth to scream out, but I immediately stuffed three fingers in her mouth and pressed down on her tongue, muffling her voice.
Resting my chin on her shoulder, I spoke into her ear, “Don’t you want to get back at him?” I started pulling down all the other emotions slowly, leaving the lust to rise on its own. I also pulled her a little deeper into the trance.
Her breathing started to get rougher as her eyes glazed over slightly. Her plump chest began to rise and fall alluringly. I could see her husband’s eyes drawn to that. The suggestions I had placed on him were arousing him upon seeing his wife.
Amanda’s eyes too fell on her husband and I could feel her anger rearing its head.
“I can help you.” I whispered before abruptly quashing that anger.
Her lust spiked, breaking through the roof of her morality. With a shudder, she gave up all inhibition and her ample butt pressed up against my erection, rubbing against it over the layers of our clothing.
Closing her eyes, she moaned, her slippery, moist tongue rolling all over, around and in between my fingers, sending tingles up my arm.
By now my member was practically throbbing in anticipation and I was at the limits of my patience.
“Raise your hands,” I growled into her ear with a tone of command.
She complied without hesitation. Taking my moist fingers out of her mouth, I grabbed the lower hem of her t-shirt, and in one smooth motion, divested her of it. It revealed a beautiful body and rather boring, pale-pink lingerie.
Her bra hooked at the front. Wasting no time, I undid the clasp and her beautifully shaped c-cups popped out and bounced in front of her.
I mentally ordered her to wrap her raised hands around my neck and arch her back, pushing her breasts out further.
I grabbed one of the globes of flesh and my fingers just sank into it. Her breasts didn’t have the firm elasticity of a younger woman, but age and pregnancy had added volume and softness to them. Her body, her scent… she was a thoroughly mature woman. One I had at my mercy.
With a low growl, I grabbed both of her breasts with my hands and knead them roughly, thoroughly memorizing their shape and feel.
The beautiful small rose-coloured nipples on top of her breasts were already hard and stiff and as I slid my hand over them, I could feel the small nubs of flesh pressing up against my palm.
Pinching one of the nipples, I pulled, stretching the breast, then let it go, making it bounce back into shape and jiggle.
All the while, Amanda threw her head back, resting it on my shoulder and moaned and mewled in my ear as I fondled her breasts.
Looking over her shoulder, I drank in the sight of her exposed body.
There were cute little freckles speckling the pale, nearly translucent skin in the region between her breasts. I was sure she was someone who'd burn instead of tan in the sun.
And she didn’t seem like a woman who would spend hours at a gym. Her stomach wasn’t toned. It wasn't flabby either. It just looked soft and inviting.
Continuing my ministrations on her breasts with my left hand, I trailed my right hand downwards over her stomach and pressed my fingers into the soft flesh there.
Her lust coloured with embarrassment and she protested in my ear through gasps.
“No… not there.”
I would have teased her further, but I was already at my limit.
Letting go of her, I stepped back and swiftly began undressing while at the same time, mentally ordering her to take off her pants.
She had less clothes to take off, so she finished earlier, and driven by her lust, she pounced on me across the table just as I had my pants half-way down.
I staggered backward from her weight and into my chair while she sprawled across the desk with her face in my crotch.
Her eyes brightening at the sight of my towering monster, she wrapped her eager fingers around the shaft with one hand and caressed my balls gently with the other. Using her forearms to prop herself up on my thighs, she raised her eyes and gave me a smouldering look before including the tip of my cock into her warm, moist mouth.
Grabbing onto the hand rests, I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and let her work her magic.
As she soon proved with her tongue, she was one talented woman, her mouth and hands coming together to drive me rapidly up the staircase of pleasure.
Thankfully, I was well equipped to deal with this situation. A small mental tweak and the sensitivity of my member was reduced. Although this meant that the sensation from her mouth and hands was a bit dulled, it also meant that I could last much longer.
No longer having to give my all to bear the pleasure, I opened my eyes to take in the exquisite curves of her naked body as she lay on her stomach atop the desk and propped herself up on my thighs with her forearms. There was a strong temptation to just grab her hair that was spilling around her head and take control, but that would just mess up her expert rhythm. Instead, I leaned forward and ran both my palms up her bare back and upon reaching her butt, squeezed the two elastic globes of flesh.
Amanda seemed to love it as her lust spiked and she shuddered under my palms.
My eyes met the glazed eyes of her husband who was twitching in his seat like someone who was suffering from a bad dream and couldn't wake up.
I smirked as an evil idea popped into my mind.
Warning Amanda beforehand, I turned her around till she was facing up again. With a bit of effort, I positioned her body, so her feet were resting on the hand-rests of her husband’s chair and her back was on the desk.
I had her clutch the further edge of the desk to brace herself as I let her head hang over the nearer edge.
Standing up and kicking my pants that were bunched around my ankles, I stepped forward. Bending my knees slightly and positioning my cock with my hand, I pressed it up to her face.
Amanda’s eyes followed the approaching tip, going cross-eyed as it touched her soft lips. Without needing a prompt from me, she parted them obediently and I slipped into the moist warm cave again.
I felt her tongue licking the tip, sending shudders up my spine as I pushed in slowly until I met the back of her throat. Pausing a bit to suppress her gag reflex with my mind, I pushed further until my balls pressed up against her nose.
I could feel her throat convulsing against the tip of my penis while her tongue worked on my shaft. Her warm breath was tickling my balls.
If not for the sensitivity adjustment, I’d have shot my load down her throat right then and there.
I ran an eye over her as I adapted to the pleasurable sensations.
Her beautiful breasts were spread to the sides without sagging, quivering slightly with each of her rapid breaths.
Her legs were spread, each foot resting on one of the handles of her husband’s chair, giving him a front row seat to the sight of her pink pussy lips opening and closing as they glistened with the proof of her excitement.
Her throat bulged slightly from the invasion of my dick and as I ran a fingernail over the skin it convulsed as it triggered her to reflexively swallow, nearly sending me over the edge.
Unable to wait any longer, I leaned over and grabbed her breasts. using them as handles, I drew back from her throat slowly with a wet sound and then drove back in at an equally sedate pace.
With her lips sealed around my cock, her cheeks caved from the vacuum whenever I drew back and I fucked her mouth in slow long strokes that only left my tip in her lips at one extreme and left me balls deep in her throat at the other.
It didn’t take long for Amanda to adapt to the rhythm and she put her tongue to good use – wrapping it around my shaft when I was deep and licking around my tip when I pulled back.
Unwilling to let her take control, I began to increase the pace and whenever I came close to cumming, I would slow down again to extend the experience. I could feel a painfully pleasurable pressure building up in my balls.
At my limit, I sheathed myself fully in her throat and leaned over her body. Grabbing her thighs to keep them apart, I busied my face in her crotch in an unconventional sixty-nine.
With my tongue I explored her gushing depths while her muffled moans around my cock shoved me ever closer to the brink.
With the blood pounding in my ears, I spread her pussy lips apart with my hands, exposing her clit. Then, leaning down, I gently bit it.
Her entire body flickering and curving like a fish out of water as her orgasm rippled across her. she screamed of her release around my cock and the convulsion of her throat was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
With a primal grunt of pleasure, I shot my thick, hot load down her throat.
I collapsed on top of her, feeling the warmth of her quivering body pressed up against mine as post-coital languor rendered me utterly unwilling to move.
But my weight would be uncomfortable for Amanda so with great reluctance, I pushed myself up and off her.
Looking up at her husband, I smirked when I saw the glistening liquid covering his face. She had squirted hard enough to paint his face with her lust.
He was breathing like a bull and I could see his cock straining against his pants. His mind was drowning in lust with absolutely no way to release it.
Smirking, I slowly pulled my softening cock out of Amanda’s mouth. It exited with a ‘pop’ trailing several glistening strings of saliva.
She rolled around on the desk and pushed herself up with her arms. Head bent down, her beautiful brown hair cascading around it she coughed from the lingering sensation of my dick in her throat.
Her face was a mess of her own saliva, tears and runny makeup… but to me, she looked absolutely gorgeous.
Bending down and extracting a handkerchief from the pocket of my discarded pants, I walked up to her. Pressing her chin between my fingers, I raised her face and wiped the mess away.
All the while her half-dazed eyes never left my face, as though desperately struggling to remember it even past her trance.
Her emotions were a warm mass of satisfaction and contentment along with the lingering echoes of lust. I suppressed those last ones and she practically melted into me, wrapping her arms around me and nuzzling her face into my chest like a well-fed cat.
Chuckling, I used the handkerchief to wipe my penis dry before tossing it into the trashcan beneath my desk.
Slipping an arm beneath her knees, I picked her up set her down on my lap after I sat in my chair. She curled into me tighter, nuzzling my neck and breathing my scent in greedily.
“Hey, how’d you like it?”
“Good…” she breathed out, “the best. Ever.”
I laughed. No matter how many times I heard that, it was always an ego boost. Pinching her face, I gently turned it towards her husband.
“And what about him? He seems like he’d like to do something with you too.”
Her eyes widened for a moment, little spikes of panic and guilt stabbing her mind before they were all smothered by the overwhelming contentment she felt now.
Turning her head away from him, she buried her face back into my neck and hugged me tighter.
“No!” she exclaimed like a petulant child.
As soon as the word was out of her mouth, I watched her husband deflate like a pricked balloon. All his building lust drained away like water down a sink and he slumped in his chair, falling deeper into his daze.
I nodded in satisfaction. That was a perfectly successful test.
Taking a look at the clock I realized that the time for my next appointment was drawing near. Looking down at the woman in my arms I sighed. All good things must end.
I ordered Amanda to get off me and get dressed while I did the same. As soon as we were both decent, I had her clean her husband’s face with another handkerchief before sitting back in her chair.
Reorganizing the mess made by our lovemaking, I rearranged the desk to what it had been at the beginning of the meeting before leaning back in my chair and snapping my fingers loudly.
Both my victims woke up from their trances. They blinked owlishly for a moment before their eyes fell on me.
Amanda blushed red down to her neck and averted her eyes while the husband just frowned slightly before returning to normal.
In my most professional tone of voice, I said,
“That’s the end of our discussion for today. I’ve taken down both your points of view but to get a more detailed understanding, I’ll need to have a few more sessions with you. Separately and together. You can talk to my secretary outside. She’ll schedule you for next week.”
“But sometimes just putting your issues out in the open in front of a confidential third party can be enough to solve some problems. I’m sure we’ll see a marked improvement in your relationship by next week’s meeting.”
Both of them stood and thanked me, Amanda still avoiding eye contact, before leaving me alone in my office.
I leaned back in my chair with a smile.
There would be a ‘marked improvement’ all right. This was a sort of test. Amanda’s husband would obviously proposition her for sex with those suggestions on him. If she forgave him and accepted his advances, then I wouldn't meddle any longer and they’d be one happy couple.
But… if she didn’t…
I leaned back in my chair with my hands clasped in my lap and looked up at the circular lights embedded in the ceiling.
I was reminded of a poem I had read in my childhood.
- “Will you walk into my parlour?” said the spider to the fly; - |1|
I was the spider… and my webs were vast.
|1| -- ‘The Spider and the Fly’ by Mary Howitt