Writer’s Note: The following story should come with a trigger warning. It is darker than my usual fare. Though the implications behind a lot of what I, and others, write about erotic hypnosis is pretty dark. To be clear this is fiction. Most of my work is, especially anything that would qualify as rape. Forcing someone through hypnosis or mind control to act out sexual favours is rape. If you plan on ever trying something like this, stop first and get help. It’s illegal, immoral and wrong.
“You haven’t even changed,” she said, gesturing to my faded blue jeans and Mass Effect t-shirt. I shrug from the sofa, admiring her outfit. The dress is a little too conservative for my tastes but the heels and the stockings are sexy as hell.
“I hate your co-workers. We’re skipping the party this year,” I said.
I could see that this upset her. She liked work, liked her friends there and the fact that I always resisted going to any social functions bothered her. She had told me that people had started calling me her ‘phantom husband’ as I was so absent from that part of her life. Her mouth opened to launch into a lecture, an angry litany of my most recent sins would most likely follow.
Or at least the ones she remembered.
I rose from the couch, moving towards her. I clamp my palm against her mouth and push her backwards against the wall pinning her there. She struggles against me, trying to push me away and unable to say a thing. My free hand comes up and begins to trace circles on her temple.
“Fighting, so hard. Tired now, tired. Sleepy and heavy, so heavy just relaxing again. Relaxing, tired of fighting, so tired of arguing, so tired, tired. Sleepy, so sleepy. My sleepy slut,” I say, my voice forceful. She weakens against me, the trance coming on quickly especially when I say ‘sleepy slut’ a trigger that makes her horny and dumb. Unable to resist.
She liked this when we first started playing around with dominance and submission. Liked to have me in her mind, guiding her. Now she can’t even remember that time, doesn’t know I have this backdoor and this power over her.
A few more seconds and the fighting stops, her eyes are half closed and her gaze distant. I release her and step back. “Remove the dress,” I say. My cock hardens as she does, and I already know what my next command will be.
When I’m finished I leave her sleeping on the couch. When she wakes up she’ll only remember falling asleep getting dressed. Missing the party will be her fault, she won’t be angry with me.
She’ll never be angry with me. I’ve assured that.
