Hypnotist at the Bijou
Part 8
Connie had just arrived at the Bijou to check in with Tim before heading for home, just to see if there was anything he wanted picked up, and what time he might get there. Tim had only just got back himself after running a couple of errands for the theatre, and welcomed her with a loving embrace. Connie could never get over just how great she felt in Tim’s embrace, it always contained a mixture of sweet considerate adoration and pure animal lust, and it never failed to make her aroused. Tim said, “Things are coming together beautifully today, sweetheart, but I won’t be there until about six thirty. I’ll count on you to lovingly prepare a sumptuous repast for our enjoyment when I get home. Only kidding, I do look forward to your cooking though.”
“Okay, babe, I’ll be off, then. See you when you get there.” Connie turned and started toward the foyer.
“Hey, sweetie, there was just one thing, apparently the Professor was able to get us one of those magnificent posters I told you about, and he tells me Cherie volunteered to put it up on our bedroom door. Check it out when you get home and tell me how much you love it. See you.” Tim called after her. Connie acknowledged him and continued through the huge front doors in search of the car.
As she reached the car her phone rang, and Cherie was on the other end. She wanted to let Connie know that she would spend the night at Jane’s tonight, she was helping Jane through a little something and wanted to be of support. Connie was fine with that, making love to Tim tonight had just become a likely event, and she was doing clitty tingles just thinking about it. Pictures of Tim kissing her toes danced through her brain, heck she loved it when Tim kissed her toes, she seemed to have a direct nerve between her feet and her pussy, or just thinking about her feet and her pussy, and she was getting seriously wound up as she drove home.
Cherie followed Jane in to her front room, and she took her phone out and turned on the video camera. “Jane, I know I have asked, but I can’t get over it, did it really take seven sessions for the weight loss?
Zonk, “Seven sessions were necessary for the program to work effectively!” Jane robotically proclaimed.
“But seven times?” Cherie pushed.
Zonk, “Seven sessions were necessary for the program to work effectively!” Again, no pause.
“Really, seven?”
Zonk, “Seven sessions were necessary for the program…” Cherie interrupted, “But seven?” Zonk, “Seven sessions were necessary…” “Seven,” “Seven sessions were necessary for the program to work effectively.” Cherie sternly told Jane to return to normal, and then comforted her.
Jane’s eyes were rolling around in their sockets, almost. “Jeepers, Cherie, what just happened?”
“I need you to see this, I don’t think you have really got it, yet.” Cherie was calm and reassuring as she produced her phone, and showed Jane what she had just recorded. Jane was mortified, she couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. No chicanery, that was clearly her, but that voice, the look in her eyes, the penny had finally dropped.
“Bloody hell, have I been doing that in front of everybody? No wonder you were concerned, thanks for being involved, thanks for introducing me to Doctor Zelmann. I have to say, he is absolutely brilliant, he’s like a famous favourite uncle, or something. I hope we can iron this out, I feel like such a dick.” Jane was white, all the colour having drained from her face. Funny though, she didn’t feel any malice toward the therapist.
Cherie held both of Jane’s hands in her own, and offered comfort and support, “Don’t worry, we will definitely get you through this. Professor, by the way, not doctor, Professor Zelmann is insanely clever, he’s going to fix everything. Now, how about rustling up some of that amazing trough slop you do so well.”
As a couple of tears trickled down Jane’s face she slapped Cherie’s thigh, “Trough slop, think yourself lucky if I make you anything after that!” That brightened the mood, no end, chuckling and sniffing Jane headed into the kitchen, and Cherie raided the boozarama, girls and their alcohol. She picked a pretentious little Sauvignon Blanc, and grabbed a couple of glasses, and poured them each one. She took them both to the kitchen and gave one to Jane, and kissed the tear track away. They laughed.
As Connie locked the car and nipped inside, she was curious about the poster. Tim had made such a fuss about seeing it the first time, but Connie had been denied the pleasure, the wind had fetched the display window down from the front of the theatre last week, and the poster had apparently been torn to shreds, so she still hadn’t seen it. She made for the bedroom and searched around, nowhere to be seen. Bugger, oh that’s right, on the bedroom door, he said. She returned to the door, which was blank, then she closed the door and lo and behold, there on the back of the door was the full size monster filling the entire door. It was amazing, instantly overpowering her with its clarity, its beauty, those eyes, those incredible eyes. They were unbelievable, those eyes, she just couldn’t take her own eyes off them. In fact, she just could not take her gaze away from looking deeply into his magnificent eyes. Tiny little thoughts, smaller than pinpricks were buzzing around her mind, “Look into my eyes”, and “stare if you dare”, “my power commands you”, “unable to look away”, “Professor Zelmann, master hypnotist” (clitty tingle). Smouldering images, thoughts and words, no idea why, no idea where they were coming from, but the overarching sentiment in Connie’s mind was, “I really want the Professor to hypnotise me, I so wish he would hypnotise me, deeply, hypnotise me deeply (umph, groan).
When Tim got home he made for the bedroom, so he could see how the poster looked after Cherie had mounted it, and there was Connie, eyes wide, blank and staring. “Couldn’t tear yourself away, huh?”
“Goodness, is that the time already, crap, the poster is so good, but I must have been standing here over an hour looking at it, I haven’t even started dinner yet.” Connie was bemused. It seemed like no time at all had passed, and yet it was past six.
“Don’t worry,” said Tim, “I had a similar reaction to it the first time I saw it. I know how you feel, it is really very hard to look away, when you… fix… your… gaze… on… his… eyes, it… is… impossible… to… look… away.”
Connie’s eyes were tracking as she listened to her husband’s encouragement, and they rested once again on Professor Zelmann’s hypnotic stare, and she kept looking… and Tim kept looking… and Connie kept looking… and Tim kept looking… and Connie kept looking more than Tim… and Tim was trying to catch up looking… but Connie was getting better at just looking at his amazing hypnotic glare. I think they were actually hypnotised at this point. After another half an hour of, you guessed it, looking, Tim dragged his beleaguered eyes away and declared that they better nip out and get something to eat. Connie loved his kind consideration (given that she hadn’t cooked the dinner), but she had a better idea, phone for a pizza. Tim loved it, and got straight to the phone. Meanwhile Connie got straight into the closet, well looked into the closet, it wasn’t that big, and grabbed Tim’s favourite backless dress, she already had great stockings on, she slipped her feet out of her work pumps and dipped her sexy toes into her five inch heeled CFM pumps (look it up). Quick trip to the bathroom and make up drawer, and the picture was complete. And wow, what a picture, (I’m getting a hard on just writing this stuff) Connie is beautiful, and she takes really well to make up and lipstick, now she was absolutely stunning.
“Got an ‘El Scorcho’ sweetie, that’ll get us nice and hot. Oh, I see, won’t need the pizza then.” Tim cast an admiring eye over his sexy wife, and they met in that infamous embrace, Tim’s now erect cock pressing against her belly insistently, and Connie trailing her fingernails over his swelling through his trousers. They stumbled to the bedroom and closed the door, kissing and fondling, then Tim bent to take his shoes off and Connie was left staring into Zelmann’s eyes, and she was again transfixed. “His eyes, so strong, so compelling,” she was thinking, “oh my, those eyes…” Tim was pulling his socks off when he realised she had gone quiet and still, and he stood up and turned around, and basically joined the staring contest again. Interestingly, every second they stared now they were getting more and more sexually excited, Tim’s cock was harder than he could ever remember it feeling and Connie’s pussy was eating her knickers, but they couldn’t stop staring.
Then, ‘ding dong’, the pizza had arrived (saved by the bell, well, someone was going to say it), and after paying the delivery girl and giving her a handsome tip, they tucked in.
Jane got on with a stir fry, short, sharp and nutritious, just what the doctor (not the Prof) ordered. As they tucked in the conversation died down, and Jane’s mind was free to roam a little, which was a little unfortunate. Tumultuous arrays of foreign images passing before her mind’s eye, you are in my power (pussy glowing), you have to obey me (clitty tingles), ticklish feet, can’t move (orgasm building) go to sleep (orgasm closer). “Come on, slow poke, finish it off.” Cherie chided. Pop! The orgasm and the thoughts receded, she was just throbbing horny now.
After they gathered up the dishes and washed them, Cherie needed to freshen up and go to the toilet, so she headed off to the bathroom. No sooner had she closed the hall door than there was a soft rapping at the front door, and still wiping her hands on the tea towel Jane went to see who it was. As she opened the door she could see it was the torch, and she watched carefully as it made her go to sleep. “Open your eyes and look at the torch, Jane, you must watch as the torch makes you ten times sleepier, ten times sleepier.” Apparently the voice had decided to accompany the torch, because there it was behind the torch, making her fall into submission. The orgasm was fast approaching again, like the cavalry on full charge. “Jane, invite me in, I command you.” (Strong surge in Jane’s pussy again). Jane backed away from the door with the vacant stare in control, and the therapist brushed up against her on the way in, fingering naughtily as she passed. Jane was putty again. The therapist guided her on to the lounge, and began whispering little goodies into Jane’s ear, and then they were kissing furiously, both women searching, fondling and rubbing each other’s sex, and the orgasm made its triumphant return. Cherie was returning to the lounge when she heard the commotion, so before opening the hall door wide she peered in through a crack at the scene in the lounge.
Cherie could scarcely believe her eyes. She guessed this was the therapist, and she was here for her booty call. But what the hell to do. According to the Prof, there was no harm, just mental untidiness, and Jane was clearly having a wailing good time, so playing with her own pussy seemed the only thing she could do amidst the cacophony of sex sounds, and the lascivious sights of two beautiful women having an unbridled sex romp. The burning (oohh) question was how to muffle her own screams of ecstasy as the scene promoted her own uncontrollable orgasm. Cherie bit her sleeve and thrashed about as quietly as she could muster in the hall, the carpet absorbing her foot fall, and she finished without alerting the therapist. After they had calmed down, Jane and the therapist were sitting facing each other again, and out came the light. “Jane, my dear, look at the torch now (Jane now facing Cherie), you cannot resist, and you are even more under my power every time I speak to you. My will is your will, I command you to obey at all times, do you understand?”
“Yes, mistress, I will obey you.” Still gazing into the torch, her mind was completely gone. “Are your feet more ticklish, my slave?”
“Yes mistress, ticklish feet.” Jane intoned.
“Take off your shoes, slave.” The therapist was getting wound up again.
Jane popped her heels up and out of the pumps, then she slid her toes into view. The therapist was in an agony of ecstasy, such beautiful feet, stockinged feet, sweaty feet, she was deliriously happy to be with Jane again and couldn’t get enough of her. She came a little closer and took hold of Jane’s right foot, and pressed Jane’s sweaty toes to the front of her panties and rubbed back and forth, sneaking tickles as she went. Jane’s wiggling toes and helpless laughter made her cum again, even harder, and longer. Evidently the therapist was unaware of the presence of anyone else in the house, but she knew not to risk being here too long. She regained her composure and sat in front of Jane again, shining the light into her eyes. “Look again, Jane, see the pretty light, see it taking your will away. You will obey my voice… you will always obey my voice… you are getting more and more ticklish each and every hour of the day and night… you can’t help it… my tickling is rapturous torture for you… you can’t bear it… yet you can’t get enough of it… be my slave… be under my power… dream of me… love me. I wasn’t here tonight… you miss me… but I wasn’t here tonight… you are here all alone… you are wild for me… you want me… you will see me again soon… do you understand?”
“Yes mistress.” Jane soporifically chanted.
“Go to sleep and count to twenty… then you will return to your evening without remembering.” And with that the therapist was up and out of the front door in a flash, driving off into the night.
When Jane opened her eyes Cherie was sitting there looking like a stunned mullet. “What, didn’t you like it? I thought you loved stir fry.” Jane quipped.
“Think for a second, then answer, how exactly do you feel?” Cherie enquired.
Jane knitted her brow, “Like… I... erm… just had… sex.”
“You did, and embarrassingly, so did I.” Cherie smirked.
“What on earth do you mean?” Jane was dubious.
“I just watched your therapist get her jollies on you.”
“……?”
“Seriously, she just talked to you, you both went wild, then she left, and my panties are saturated to prove it, and I expect yours are too. A surreptitious feel confirmed it. Cherie went back to the start (from her observation) and retold how she saw the therapist shining a little torch at her and telling her things, through to the ticklish suggestions and the orgasms. Jane was utterly gobsmacked, but didn’t dare argue about it. But then, “Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Well, I don’t know what might happen if I disturb you in trance, that’s her expertise, and the Prof, but you were having so much fun, and then you were contagious, and I was having so much fun, I couldn’t help myself. And she wasn’t harming you. No, take heart, the Professor will sort all this out tomorrow, she won’t get to do it again. Jane began sobbing, small sobs of dissolution, and she wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, she felt she was falling apart. Cherie sat next to her and hugged her, and the hug was affectionately returned, and the inevitable need surfaced, “Cherie, I’m not talking sex here, but would you sleep in my bed with me tonight?”
“Jane, sex, no sex, I’m happy to sleep with you any time girl. I’ll grant you, I never had any idea I had lesbian tendencies, but you’ve completely spun my sexual compass. You made me so hot tonight. But rest assured, I can sleep, too.” And sleep they did, the deep, rapturous sleep of the angels. Cherie was true to her word, although she cuddled up close to Jane, and spooned her and held her all night, there was no arousal or intent, just blissful, restorative slumber.
After their pizza was demolished, Connie and Tim were ravenous for something entirely unrelated to food, although eating was definitely going to be part of it. They couldn’t even wait to wipe the grease off their mouths, passionate kissing resumed after the last gulp of crust, and naughty sexy fingers were fuelling greater heights of passion each minute. Tim picked Connie up and whisked her into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and lowering Connie feet first to the floor, resumed the kissing. Connie was undoing his belt and helping his trousers in their search for the floor, and Tim kicked them away, now standing with has shirt and jocks (underpants) and erection, fumbling with Connie’s zip. As he carefully took the shoulder straps in hand, and gracefully removed the dress, taking care not to damage it (Connie looked so great in this dress, he wasn’t going to risk ripping or tearing it. Tell you what, so looked pretty good in black frilly bra and panties, standing tall in dark blue stockings and frilly suspenders in her five inch pumps, too), he gently laid it on the side chair.
While Connie stood looking into Zelmann’s eyes (oh, no, not again), Tim this time took advantage. He deftly slipped her panties down and knelt in front of her neatly trimmed pussy, and extended his tongue to her clitoris. She looked into the powerful hypnotic gaze of Professor Zelmann, master hypnotist (eyes plus tongue equals massive clitty tingles) as Tim proceeded to massage her clitoris with his tongue, regularly licking back and forth along her labia, delighting in her heavenly nectar. Connie’s mind was numb with pleasure, her thoughts continuously rummaging through Zelmann’s subliminal commands, I wish he would hypnotise me, slurp, lick; I would obey, lick slurp; I can’t look away from those eyes, suck, nibble; I can’t resist, tongue, chew; weak, so weak, suck, lick, tremble; I love Professor Zelmann, tongue, suck, lick tremble shudder explode!!! Tim’s expert oral technique was Connie’s favourite pleasure, and she came so hard, over and over as he worked his tongue to her G spot, and gently massaged her clitoris with a tender finger. Although Tim wasn’t yet getting it, Connie was associating this pleasure with Zelmann, his eyes, his presence in their room, his ability to overpower their minds with the poster, Connie was now exploding with the most erotic sensations while staring deep into the eyes of the dominating force of the master hypnotist.
With no apparent resistance to Zelmann’s control, Connie encouraged Tim to his feet and turned him around in a return to the passionate embrace, and then slowly slid down his body til her mouth reached his straining erection. She gingerly lifted the waistband of his jocks (see earlier) and dragged them to the floor, and he kicked them away, all the while staring into the eyes of the mighty hypnotist. Connie’s lips began their titillation on his glans, as she gently drew his foreskin down with her hand, and maddeningly circled his glans with her tongue. Tim had never felt this much pleasure in his life, frozen in place by the enthralling combination of sexual thrills and hypnotic fascination, see above for subliminal impressions, including “I love Professor Zelmann”, he was readying for his explosion, and Connie knew it.
Connie pushed her lover sharply toward the bed, and he stumbled backwards onto the soft pillows and eiderdown, and Connie was scrambling up after him, losing her sexy shoes on the way. Shortly after rearranging themselves to best effect, their union was complete, pumping and gasping, arching and mashing, Connie started spontaneously experiencing spasms of bliss as she entered the throes of another orgasm, seducing Tim’s explosion from his loins, and if he were still wearing socks, knocking his socks off. Much lover’s sweet kissing and cooing was then prelude to a night’s ardent slumber, all the while under the encouraging mesmeric stare of Professor Zelmann, master hypnotist.