The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

1.

Outside her landlady’s door, Jessica hesitated. This was the point of no return. She’d been able to think of it as a kind of dream as she got ready. As she waited for Sandy’s friends to leave. As she slipped on the tight red swimsuit and the oversize white shirt she didn’t button. As she crept down the stairway of the beautiful old Victorian from the second-floor apartment.

But when she knocked, it would be—

Jessica knocked.

She waited, then almost ran as she heard Sandy coming to the door. She remembered to take a deep breath and let it out as Sandy worked the lock so that when the door opened she’d be calmer.

“Hi, Sandy,” she said, and smiled. She’d told herself the blush would be invisible under her tan, and told herself again as she saw her landlady’s eyes travel up and down her body.

After a moment Sandy said, “Hi yourself, Jessica. What’s up?” She looked directly into Jessica’s eyes, clearly knowing the answer, but seemed curious despite that. Sensing more.

“Well, first, I hope I’m not disturbing you?” Jessica found herself holding her hands behind her back, having no pockets to shove them into.

“Not at all, Jessica, come on in.” Sandy stepped aside and Jessica followed her in, and the landlady gestured her to the sofa while she settled into the easy chair. “Anything wrong with the apartment?” She looked at the swimsuit, and Jessica tried to let her see it without being too obvious. “Air conditioning out?”

They chuckled, but Jessica’s seemed pretty feeble. She realized she was vulnerable in a lot of ways as she went ahead with this, and that she was relying on Sandy to help, so she relaxed into the role.

“Um, actually, Sandy, I wanted to talk to you. I’ve noticed you looking at me, like when I’m out back, tanning, or—”

She nodded. “You’re very nice to look at.” Jessica laughed but Sandy just smiled, and took another long look at her thighs just to demonstrate.

“And you’ve offered to give me rubdowns . . .” This time Sandy didn’t jump in with anything, just kept looking at her.

“Well, it seems like you find me attractive, Sandy. And I appreciate that you haven’t done anything to abuse the landlord/tenant thing—never ‘accidentally’ coming in while I was asleep or showering, or drilling peepholes—”

“That you found,” Sandy said, and Jessica’s expression must have been what she was looking for. She laughed a moment before Jessica realized she was kidding.

“Anyway, I thought it might be . . .”

“Jessica?”

She swallowed, grateful for the interruption. “What?”

“Are you coming on to me?”

Tanned or not, she knew her blush was visible. It began to dawn on Jessica what she looked like, and “coming on” sounded too self-confident to describe it. A girl in a barely-legal swimsuit sitting on a couch trying to decide whether she wanted to try to seduce her landlady, or run back upstairs and hide.

Sandy stared at her for a moment—letting her suffer?—and said, “God, that’s so cute.”

Jessica smiled at her weakly, glad that it had some appeal. “Sorry, Sandy, I—”

“No, no. God. Coming down here dressed like a wetdream purely on . . . whatever. Man, that’s brave.

“Insane, but brave.” They laughed together again. “So this is your own approach to ‘bi-curious’?”

Jessica just opened her hands. “I’m not sure. I just—I feel pretty safe, and it wasn’t like you were making any secret of it, so I wasn’ t afraid of being turned down.”

Sandy nodded. “Jessica, just so you know, if you flaunt that body in front of most of the women I know, getting turned down will not be a problem.”

“Thanks, Sandy.”

Sandy leaned forward. “Are you attracted to me, Jessica?”

That stopped her. She’d expected needing to be responsive, but not putting it into words. “Well . . .”

“Were you just expecting me to pull you into the bedroom without any small talk?”

Jessica’s mouth was open, but she couldn’t begin to answer.

“It’s all right, Jessica. Really. The idea’s tempting—as a fantasy. But I need to know the person I’m making love with is into it.”

“Um . . . Sandy, I’m not into girls, really. But with some, I feel like it might be OK, that it might feel good. Not like with—”

“Not like with Dan?”

Jessica could only shake her head. She was trying not to think about her not-quite-boyfriend and this at the same time, yet.

Sandy sensed it and leaned back. “Slow and easy, Jessica. I’m saying that to myself, too.”

Jessica nodded and swallowed, and suddenly she did feel sexy. Curled half-teasingly on the couch with someone staring avidly at her. She wasn’t wet, but she felt her nipples against the bikini top and she could tell Sandy saw them. Enjoyed them.

“When I sensed you looking at me, I was a little scared, in case it would, you know, make things . . .”

“I know. I don’t do things that way, Jessica.”

Jessica was suddenly chilled. What she’d come down here to do was harder, now. She didn’t know how she’d talked herself into thinking she could barter her body for some of the rent, why she’d even thought Sandy would go for it. Sandy was fit, beautiful, smart—she wasn’t hard up for women.

“I know that, Sandy.” She kept herself talking. She could do this. It wasn’t like she’d be hurting Sandy—Sandy did want her, and this way Sandy could have her for the taking. Sandy didn’t have to pay for women, but she could certainly decide to give one a break. “I wasn’t worried long. I figured if you were going to do it, you wouldn’t screw around before you made your move.”

Sandy’s eyes widened a little, but she laughed, and sounded pleased. At the compliment, and perhaps at seeing that the stray kitten she was entertaining had claws too.

“But you didn’t, and in fact, it’s part of why I thought of doing this at all.”

“Doing this.” Sandy kept smiling, but she’d gotten the new vibe, and she was watching.

Jessica swallowed.

“I’m having a difficult time. They jacked the tuition up and they’d said they wouldn’t, not for another year. My budget—” They’d talked about that, when she’d been trying to reassure Sandy she’d be good for the rent. Sandy had seemed sympathetic. “The financial aid’s maxed out, and I can’t work any more hours.” She felt panic as she realized she didn’t know what to say next.

Sandy looked her in the eye. Then she nodded. “Yes. I hear you come in and then go out, and there isn’t much time between. Even if all you did was sleep, I don’t know how you’d make it.” She sounded worried for Jessica, nothing more.

“I was going to just ask you if I could get a break on the rent. There’s no give anywhere else. I don’t know if there’s give here, either—you’re in business.”

There was something strange for a moment in Sandy’s eyes. It might have been compassion—or anger? But it passed.

“I wanted to try to work it off, but I don’t know what I could do, or have the time to do, that you’d want, that would be worth it.”

Sandy kept looking at her, and Jessica clung to the way Sandy’s expression didn’t change now. She wasn’t looking shocked, or newly disgusted, or about to throw Jessica out.

“I didn’t . . . it’s not something I . . .” Jessica was living the surprise-examination nightmare. All the things she’d planned to say were so completely useless now. She’d wanted a way to put it that didn’t sound like I’ll let you fuck me if you let me pay less and she’d convinced herself she’d found one.

But it wouldn’t convince Sandy, she knew. Since that’s what she was saying.

Sandy looked at her. If she shot Jessica down now it would be so severe Jessica wouldn’t feel the pain of it for some merciful time afterward.

“One of my friends—Cecile, I think you met her—”

“The one that dances at JJ’s.” Sandy nodded. She was taking all this so matter of factly, item by item. Was she that OK with the trade?

“She’s been after me to start there. She says it doesn’t take a lot of experience, and—”

“I know what it takes, there.”

Jessica hit another wall. Did Sandy go to JJ’s? Cecilia hadn’t mentioned it, and she knew Sandy was gay. Or had Sandy danced there herself, before?

“I don’t want to do that, Sandy. But it’s looking like the last thing I can offer to keep my head above water.” Offer. At least that came out right. She’d sat there, thinking about what verb wouldn’t sound like she was trying to make meat of herself, and to make Sandy one of the butchers.

Sandy nodded, slowly.

“Jessica? In actual terms, how much of a break did you need, on the rent?” Her voice was low, reasonable. Interested.

“And how much time with you would that bring?”

2.

Jessica stared at her, clinging to the calm tone.

“I hadn’t . . . thought about it that way.”

“It’s pretty much the obvious way to think of it, Jessica. You’ re quantifying it.”

Jessica wanted to ask Aren’t you angry? but she was starting to wonder if this was Sandy’s anger. It was like the worst of days in Prof Dochmann’s class—just question after quiet question, peeling layers off. Jessica would feel smaller and smaller, until throwing her out became just an afterthought.

“I thought that if we agreed on the rent, I could be . . .”

“On call?” Sandy was still speaking quietly. She actually seemed to be trying to meet Jessica halfway, at least in talking.

Jessica thought about the time she’d seen Cecile dance, the hands on her G-string, how the bills looked curled against Cecile’s skin. Cecile’s smiles: the one she poured down on the hands that groped her, and the one later, as she collected Jessica from the bar.

“I thought about what Cecile said. What she said I’d have to do, and didn’t have to. I thought about explaining it to you—”

“Did you think about looking down off the stage and seeing me with a bill for you?” Sandy looked her up and down again, and for a moment Jessica imagined it, feeling the air on her skin before the hands started petting her and squeezing and trying to get inside her. It made her hot and cold at once.

“Or paying for a lapdance?”

Jessica couldn’t speak.

“I don’t have to pay for women, Jessica.” She waited, as Jessica wordlessly nodded at that. “But a lot of people find it exciting when the woman is paid for. To dance. To fuck.”

Jessica was past worrying about her insane plan. She wasn’t even sure if she’d still have a lease an hour from now. But right now she couldn’t just fold up and scurry out, however desperately she wanted to.

“On the other hand,” Sandy went on, “the paid-for woman is not necessarily a high-status person. She’s in a sort of negative mode—people get their status from taking hers. Using her makes them bigger.” She closed her eyes and leaned back. “Which I think is how you see it. Which is why you haven’t been doing sets at JJ’s for the last couple of weeks or however long.”

Sandy opened her eyes. “And, yes, I think you’d be a hit, there. Even if you just squirmed around the pole a little and swayed your hips to the beat.” Jessica blushed.

“So . . . you figured your lesbian landlady would want to do what she could to save you from having to go where all those nasty male-type men would be feeling you up and staring at you, taking little images of you home to rape in private fantasies.

“You’d be right.”

She didn’t react when Jessica gasped and left herself breathless.

“Just tell me something, Jessica. I’ll have to rely on you to make it the truth.

“I asked if you were attracted to me. I don’t know that you said so, either way.”

Jessica stared at her. Sandy wasn’t calling her a whore, wasn’t telling her to get the fuck out of her room and her building. Sandy was deciding whether and how to say yes.

“Sandy, you’re beautiful. I don’t look at you the way I look at a guy . . .” She waited, but Sandy didn’t pick it up and say Well that’s a relief or anything else.

“I thought about it. About being with you. Those days we’ve sunned together and you’ve watched me—I watched you, a little. I thought about how you looked. I remember thinking how I wanted to have your body, and . . .

“I fantasized about it last night, Sandy. I masturbated and thought of you making love to me.”

Sandy swallowed, this time. “Did you orgasm?

“My dream-self has an ego too,” she said, and Jessica almost sobbed with relief.

“Yes, Sandy. I did. Thank you.”

They looked at each other, suddenly spent.

“It’s a weird way to get there, Jessica, but I think I can find a way to make the rent livable. And we can help you explore this feeling. It may be a trade, but it’s not a sale. I think that difference matters.”

She grinned with comic menace. “Who knows? I may even manage to seduce you into the cult of lesbian sex maniacs, and you’ll never look back.”

Jessica dissolved in giggles, and wondered vaguely how funny she really thought it was. Whatever—it felt good to hear Sandy laughing too.

“I’m sorry, Sandy. It’s been kind of a stressful week.”

Sandy smiled. “I’m glad you thought of me, then. I think.” They shared another, quieter laugh. “Jessica, if you’re really not OK with this, neither am I.”

Jessica found she was tearing up. It really had been an shitty week, and now the first person to be considerate of her was, more or less, the one she’d chosen to sell herself to.

No. She found the place inside that had kept her going all this time. She could pick and choose. She’d chosen a grueling major and a tough program, she’d endured crude passes from her boss. She could do this. She might be using Sandy, but if Sandy let her then she’d be using Jessica, too. Like it or not, the power relationship was there, and a landlady who let a tenant offer her sex was like a professor who let a student do the same. If they didn’t refuse, they made the quid pro quo real.

“No, Sandy. I am. I do. I want to feel what it’s like.”

Sandy’s whole posture loosened, and Jessica realized she was relieved. Sandy had been ready to do the noble thing and let her half-naked tenant scurry away, but she was glad she hadn’t had to. Glad she might get a chance to see and touch the little that Jessica’s swimsuit wasn’t already showing her.

We’re all grownups here.

She even knew the next thing to say. “I want to know if I can please another woman. If it’s what I want.”

“Hey, no pressure,” Sandy laughed. “I’d rather not be the make-or-break thing that orients you toward girlfun, thanks. And don’t put that on yourself, either. ‘What you want’ may be something you spend a long time figuring out.”

Jessica smiled back at Sandy, hearing the encouragement. There was some ‘want’ in Sandy, too. She wanted this newly-accessible girl from upstairs, and she wanted to keep the little bisexual spark in her from going out before she could fan it into passion.

Jessica thought about playing a little—shying off again, watching Sandy scramble to find more happytalk to keep her calm. It might be easier. Sandy would be the pursuer now. Jessica didn’t know anything about seducing a woman, but that was all right if she convinced the woman to seduce her first.

“You’re still awfully tense, Jessica.”

She looked at Sandy. Sandy’s bright eyes were full of something, but whether it was tender concern, or worry that she’d spook her prey, Jessica couldn’t tell. Both, and neither, and other things I’ll never know. We really are all grownups here, and no one’s simple. Not Sandy, and not me.

“Sorry.” She smiled. “Maybe I need a massage.”

Sandy smiled back, and what was in her eyes was definitely interest. “I’d like to. And I am good at it. It’s nice foreplay too.

“But I don’t just want your body to be comfortable, Jessica. I want you to be.” Her smile quirked and Jessica felt a new stab of liking for her. She saved it.

“I also have a selfish interest in having a partner who isn’t too nervous.”

Jessica wondered what pill she was about to be offered and how to just say no. “Nervous kind of comes with the—”

“Oh, I know. Believe me, part of what’s really turning me on about this is that I’ll be deflowering a virgin, and trembling nervous virgins are very hot indeed.” Sandy’s gaze suddenly heated up several degrees and Jessica was startled and very pleased that the heat seemed to collect between her legs.

She tightened them and then let them loosen. Sandy drank in her quiet sigh.

“But a frightened virgin isn’t having a good time,” Sandy went on. “And that’s not what I want. I don’t know if you can go as far as I think you want to right now.”

“Yes.” Jessica’s voice was thicker than she thought. I really am curious. Maybe I’m really bi . . . “I mean, I do want. To go that far. With you.”

Sandy nodded. “I understand. But there’s something that will make it easier, and a lot more fun.

“I want to hypnotize you.”

3.

Jessica blinked. “Hypnotize me?”

She’d been quietly taking a submissive role, but it was out there now, explicit and on offer. Power relationships, indeed. She could see herself sleepwalking after Sandy to the bedroom, agreeing in a monotone to—all sorts of things.

Sandy was watching her, looking more curious than worried at her pause.

“Hypnotize me,” Jessica said again, musingly, to buy a little time.

“Something happened to me in a club, once.” She relaxed, closed her eyes, tried to imagine it was some kind of therapy. But therapists weren’t supposed to interview patients in bikinis, or make them feel warm with stares.

“Were you hypnotized on stage?”

“No, not like that.” She smiled, keeping her eyes closed. “Or in the audience by accident, either.”

“Tell me.”

“I was out dancing with Dan and some friends and I kept feeling eyes on me. I saw this girl just staring me down, like she was a vampire calling to me. Trying to mesmerize me across the room.”

“Maybe she was just trying to memorize you, instead.” When she opened her eyes Sandy was grinning at her. “Wanted to imagine you clearly, later, when she masturbated.” The words did things to Jessica’s insides but Sandy’s warm voice kept her calm, let her get used to it.

“So—did you succumb to the vampire’s call? Waft entranced across the dance floor, oblivious to the pulsing music and flashing lights, until you were by her side?”

Jessica stared at her, remembered to breathe.

“Uh—no.”

“Sorry.” Sandy’s eyes danced, but stayed on Jessica’s. “I was just imagining.”

Jessica didn’t look away. “So am I, now. Thanks a lot.” They laughed, more quietly than before.

“I want this to be my choice, Sandy. I don’t want to be able to tell myself ‘Oh, I was under hypnosis, I was just obeying suggestions, I couldn’t help myself—’”

“I know.” Sandy looked pleased. “It will. I give you credit for wanting this, to be with me, to make love.” She grinned again. “Or at least have sex, if that’s OK.”

Jessica found herself lying on her side, weak with relief again as she laughed. She saw Sandy enjoying her.

“It’s not mind control, Jessica. I can’t twirl a crystal in front of you and make you my mindless sex toy.”

Were Sandy’s eyes saying, Unless you want me to?

Jessica’s heart was beating hard.

Sandy took her silence for concern. “Girl, if I could mind-control women into obeying me . . . this place would be wall to wall with hypnotized hotties, waiting on my smallest whim, meditating on the Sayings of Mistress Sandy, or begging for sex, or practicing on each other so they’d be very very skilled when I chose them—” Her eyes were gleaming.

“Or keeping the place clean,” Jessica said.

Sandy smirked. “There you go. That too.”

“Vacuuming would be hard, though. What with all the hotties lying around.”

Sandy smirked some more. “Yes, but they’d all cooperate, writhe in unison or something. They’d all want to please me.”

She winked. “But that would be wrong!”

Then she sighed. “Since it’s also impossible, I settle for women who sleep with me because we like each other, sometimes more. And I do my own housework, thanks very much.”

Jessica nodded.

“OK, Jessica. Guess we’re even for the one about the vampire in the club.”

Thinking about Sandy’s wall-to-wall harem, Jessica looked for her own face in the kneeling, nude, submissive throng. No. I might be a whore for doing this, but I’m not a slave.

“Guess I’m more depraved than I thought, Sandy.” She breathed. “So—you can really hypnotize people?”

Sandy nodded, and some of the mock-huntress gleam left her eyes. “Studied it during college, thought about practicing. Then my lover, who was very much into athletics, got very much into needing some pain management after a hectic day of lacrosse, and I helped her with that.” Her smile was much softer than her flip tone. “I really liked that part. Making Siobhan feel better. It wasn’t taking anything from her—it helped her deal with it herself.”

Jessica moved a little on the sofa, a little uncomfortable, still, with this tenderness. “You’ve convinced me, Sandy. I realized if I feel OK with making love with you—or just having sex—” They laughed.

“Then I guess I can just stare into your eyes, without worrying about it.”

Sandy was shaking her head. “Mmm. I’m not sure about the eyes part. That’s a little too dominant for me. Sort of Madame Evil Mind Control Bitch, you know?”

“Too tempting to enslave my will forever?”

“Hee hee.” Sandy’s face softened even more. “Could be I’m a little afraid of looking too deeply into your pretty eyes, Jessica. A girl could get lost in them. I could end up as your slave, instead.

“I think you’d be a kind mistress, but still . . .”

Jessica didn’t say anything. She really didn’t know what she’d do with her landlady under her spell. She was already much more sexually aware of Sandy than she’d been before. She’d thought, for days, about nights in Sandy’s bed, taught herself to appreciate Sandy’s firm body, her smooth skin and sculpted face. Waiting for the day they held her, slid against her, stroked her toward orgasm. Responded to her touch.

She considered her motives, and wondered how kind she’d really be, if she were using sex and hypnosis to manipulate Sandy.

Sandy had risen and gotten something from a sideboard, and Jessica actually laughed.

“A pocketwatch? Oh my god.”

Sandy smirked again. “Worked wonders with Siobhan—torn shoulders, blown knees, whatever. She laughed at it too, but after a while we didn’t even need it to put her under.”

She came to the sofa and Jessica looked up at her as she sat beside her. Jessica was conscious of her warmth, the way her body curved in her jeans and sweater, the light scent of her perfume. She wondered if Sandy was turned on—her eyes were sparkling and her lips were moist. Jessica couldn’t sense anything like her own scent when she was aroused.

But she was feeling something just the same. An attractive woman was getting close to her, liking the sight of her on display. It did turn her on.

She felt right, shrugging the shirt off. The room air was warm but she still felt it on her shoulders and breasts. She looked at Sandy looking at her, and felt more vulnerable than ever, and liked it.

“Your eyes,” Sandy said.

She leaned forward and gently hugged Jessica and Jessica hummed with how good it felt. She squeezed back and turned her head to Sandy’s hair, pushing it aside with her lips and touching them to Sandy’s neck. She felt Sandy’s hands warm on her back, stroking her.

I didn’t know it would feel like this.

She eased back, and looked into Sandy’s eyes, finding them hazel and intriguingly mottled and very close to hers. “I’m ready,” she said. “Anytime you and the watch are, Ms Svengali.”

Sandy grinned again, and then let her face go expressionless as she moved back to her side of the sofa. Jessica turned to look at her.

“No, Jessica. Just look out in front of you. I’ll tell you what to do and you’ll follow my instructions, and it’ll be that easy. Do you understand, Jessica?”

Jessica swallowed. This felt odd and good. “Yes, Sandy. I understand.”

“Good girl. Without looking away from in front of you, seat yourself comfortably. That’s right. Are you warm now? Would you like me to put the shirt over you?”

Jessica stared forward. “No, thank you, Sandy.”

“Good girl. I’m going to show you the watch in a moment and I just want you to look at it. You don’t need to concentrate on it or memorize details—just see it and know it. Relax with it. Do you understand, Jessica?”

“Relax,” Jessica repeated softly. “Yes, Sandy. I understand.”

“Good girl.”

Jessica smiled at the praise. It felt sort of patronizing to be winning those words, and for such simple compliance, but she understood it was part of the way Sandy was training her to accept the hypnotic process. To accept Sandy’s control . . .

She realized that she wasn’t really paying attention to what she was looking at. Something across the room—but she was focused on listening to Sandy’s instructions, and her mind was foggy on what might be there now. That wasn’t important. She was keeping her gaze where Sandy had told her to.

Then the watch was there, and she looked at it. It spun a bit back and forth on its chain, a little too fast for her to see the design etched on it, but she relaxed as she’d been told. Sandy had given her permission not to see it. It swung a little, too, not in the classic hypnotic arc but just enough to make its spin a little more dizzying.

Sandy was still telling her to look at it and relax, and Jessica started seeing it as a swaying, flickering constellation. The flickering filled her mind and she wondered vaguely if she’d get a headache, but the idea faded. This felt very nice.

Her eyes felt massaged and she realized she was moving them, back and forth, to follow the watch. It was swinging more widely now and she knew what was happening. She’d relaxed deeply enough to lose track of Sandy’s voice and Sandy had instructed her to let the watch capture her gaze.

Jessica was sitting blankly, following a swinging watch with helpless concentration. She was the archetypal hypnotic subject.

Jessica felt silly, and completely at peace with it.

“I enjoy watching the watch,” she said, only slightly tempted to giggle. It was easy to resist the temptation, and for a moment she was mildly amazed she could resist anything at all.

The moment passed, swept aside by the watch. Her mind swung to follow, and forgot.

“In your mind,” Sandy’s words suddenly came clear, “there are only the watch and the sound of my voice.”

“Only the watch, and the sound of your voice.” Jessica felt warm as she repeated it.

Sandy’s voice was quiet, and for a few cleansing breaths there was only the watch.

Only the watch.

“You will continue to go deeper with each pass.” Silence.

Only the watch.

“Back and forth.” Silence.

Only the watch.

“Deeper.” Silence.

Only the watch.

“And deeper.” Silence.

Only the watch.

“Trusting in my voice. Relaxing and listening and seeing only the watch, hearing only my voice.”

“Only the watch.” Jessica was vaguely aware of someone repeating Sandy’s commands in a sleepy monotone. “Only your voice.”

No. There was only Sandy’s voice in her mind.

The mystery didn’t trouble Jessica as she watched and listened and relaxed. The mystery was not one of the things in her mind.

Her eyelids were very heavy now, but she kept them up because Sandy told her to. Jessica had to stay awake to obey the instruction to watch the watch, even though she grew sleepier each time it swung dazingly before her eyes. She sighed and relaxed and kept doing her best to obey.

Then Sandy’s voice told her that she would see the watch even more clearly when she closed her eyes.

That made perfect sense. And it was nice that she would be told to go to sleep now, though she must wait for the command.

Jessica heard the word “sleep” and closed her eyes. She could still hear the voice and see the watch, and she was happy.

She was even happier when Sandy spoke again.

“Good girl.”

4.

“Just relax and follow the watch. That’s it, Jessica, follow the watch and relax, hearing only the sound of my voice. It soothes you and helps you control your nervousness. The more you listen to my voice and follow the watch, the less nervous you are. You know that listening to my voice will reassure and soothe you as you do what you really want to do. You know that your comfort is my focus. You know that my voice will tell you everything you need to know, my voice will tell you everything you need to do. Listen to my voice and obey my instructions, and you will not need to think or choose, just relax and enjoy.

“You enjoy being so comfortable, listening to the instructions that you will obey. You know that your comfort is my focus. You are no longer uncomfortable being with a woman. You are very comfortable being with a woman. You are very relaxed and happy being with a woman. You have no desires, right now, other than being with a woman. You are ready to relax and give yourself to a woman and to let a woman give herself to you . . .”

Jessica smiled. It was so simple, and so soothing. Sandy was sweet to do this, but it wasn’t necessary. She already felt safe with Sandy, and the increasing heat in her loins was something she could offer Sandy when they lay together, in a little while, when Sandy was happy with the hypnosis and they could get on with it.

“The feelings you have, the curiosity you have about how women can feel and how they can love are valid and sane and wonderful, and they are yours. You will not feel pressured to display them or hide them, flaunt them or deny them. Your comfort is my focus. You are realizing that you’re free to explore them, to cherish them, to open them to someone you trust, who will cherish them with you, and share hers with you.”

Someone you trust. She stopped smiling, the smooth flow of her feelings suddenly breaking on the rocks of what she’d meant to do.

“Easy, now.” Sandy’s hand was on her forehead and she calmed down. “There’s a problem there, something that hurts. That’s all right. Your feelings are yours, the pleasant and the painful, and you can trust me with both. I will help you and your comfort is my focus.”

“Something you think is wrong, Jessica. It’s all right. I’m with you here and your comfort is my focus. We can look at it together and we can face it, whatever it is. Women together isn’t wrong or evil, Jessica.”

Jessica thought of standing on a streetcorner in fishnets and a microskirt, perched on heels, staring down at a car window. Sandy was looking out, and the expression on her face was . . .

She couldn’t speak, but she shook her head.

“Don’t worry, Jessica. Just relax. Just go deeper.”

Jessica sighed and let herself sink, feeling better and blanker with each new breath.

. . . “I’m sorry this isn’t working.” Jessica shrugged apologetically at Sandy, over in the easy chair. She was mildly concerned that Sandy might take her natural resistance to the induction to mean they couldn’t connect in bed, either.

Sandy shrugged back at her. “It’s all right. Hypnosis isn’t a light switch. It’s not like I can put you into a deep trance just by snapping my fingers.”

She snapped her fingers.

Jessica’s world went soft and dark.

. . . Jessica blinked at Sandy. “Sorry. I can’t seem to concentrate. Keep phasing out.” She tried to keep her eyes on Sandy to listen to what she was saying.

She caught something in a resigned tone. “Well, hypnosis is all about concentration, Jessica.”

“Um . . . right . . .” Her eyes slid to the left, back to the pretty little pocketwatch that Sandy was dangling on its chain for some reason. It turned very gently, catching light randomly on its polished contours. Jessica tried to focus on what Sandy was trying to tell her about being hypnotized. She mildly regretted wasting her landlady’s time like this, getting distracted while the poor woman was trying to put her into a trance.

Jessica sighed, losing herself again in the flickering metal. She knew from somewhere that being hypnotized was about gaining control of your mind, not giving it up to another. Oh, well. She must be part of the weak-willed minority that just couldn’t pay attention enough to be induced. Her mind was always going to be captured by something.

She wanted to look away from the transfixing watch for a moment. She wanted to apologize to Sandy. She wanted to ask what actually being hypnotized would have felt like.

But each time the idea tried to exist, the watch moved, a tiny light flashed, and her mind went blank again.

. . . “Sandy?”

“Yes, Jessica?”

“Were you going to hypnotize me?” Jessica folded her arms under her breasts, flicking a nipple and sighing. She tried not to sound impatient. She stretched her legs again along the sofa, watching the muscles work under the tanned skin.

“Well, yes, Jessica. I was.” Over in her chair, Sandy played idly with Jessica’s red bikini top, sniffing thoughtfully inside each cup. Jessica kept track of that, holding the nipple of the corresponding breast and squeezing when Sandy closed her eyes. It felt lovely and she could do that all day, and she had the warm certainty that Sandy liked it too.

“I certainly was going to hypnotize you.”

But Jessica felt a birthday-surprise anticipation of how it would feel actually, finally, to surrender to Sandy’s hypnotic power, and give up her will to the other woman.

“Um. Would you? Please?”

Jessica was certain it would be restful and instructive and pleasurable—better than masturbation. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but didn’t worry about it.

“Will hypnotizing you make it easier for me to take your top off?” Sandy paused, turning the bikini over in her hand as she waited for the answer.

“Take off my bra? Just like that?” Jessica was intrigued. “Or, make me take it off? Obey a command to?”

“That’s right.” Sandy nodded, and set the bra in her lap.

“No, Sandy. I’m pretty sure I’d resist that sort of command. The bra stays on, thanks very much.” Saying that made her chuckle for some reason, and so did Sandy.

“B-but . . . ahh . . .” Jessica had a sudden surge of warmth in her cunt and tried to move a hand down to (play with) investigate it, but her hands seemed content to stay up cupping her bare breasts, now that she no longer needed to play with her nipples for a while.

“You may,” said Sandy, and Jessica reached down with her left hand, pressing on the warm fabric over her pussy.

“But, um, Sandy, I’d love for you to try. To bend. My will, um, into obeying. By hypnotizing me.”

“The thing is,” said Sandy, “I found something interesting. About your forehead, in fact.”

“My—? Oh, right!” Jessica eased off on her rubbing. She swung her legs down as Sandy came back over to sit beside her. She stopped playing with herself and sat still, holding her breasts up for Sandy to look at and touch, if she wanted. She noticed the bra draped on the arm of the easy chair and shivered, aroused to know that Sandy hadn’t somehow bewitched her into taking it off.

“My forehead, yes,” she babbled, excited that Sandy was near her. “There’s that spot in the middle.”

Sandy looked up from her breasts, though she leaned forward to blow on them. “The one that makes you lose your panties, if any, and flash waitresses?”

“Which? Oh—no. The one that sends me deep into an obedient trance. When the hypnotist touches it.”

“Oh.” Sandy smiled. “Like this?”

. . . Jessica lay back on the sofa, looking at Sandy.

“Do you believe I hypnotized you?”

Jessica nodded against the sofa back.

“Do you remember them now?”

“Yes.” She blushed slowly. “That part about the bra . . . I really did that? Or did you just make me—?”

“You did.” Sandy smiled. “I suggested it to you and you accepted without any resistance.

“And thank you. They’re as gorgeous as the rest of you.”

Jessica breathed in, realized she was breathing fast. “I’ m—really excited, Sandy. I mean turned on. It’s a rush.” She looked up at Sandy.

“I like you this way, Jessica. But no, though you’re too polite to ask. I haven’t started programming you with all sorts of lesbian urges. I think you just enjoy losing your inhibitions.”

Jessica found her hands were her own, and reached slowly for one of Sandy’s. It was cool, and Sandy let her hold it.

“So what was with all the trances? I kept going under and coming up and feeling happy-weird and trancing out again . . .”

Sandy covered Jessica’s hand with her other one. “Did you enjoy that? Being induced?”

Jessica wanted to feel she’d been had, but she owed Sandy the pure glow she was feeling. “I loved it, Sandy. Thank you.” She wanted to say more but closed her mouth, trying not to.

Sandy lifted her hand and kissed it. “And you want it again.”

Jessica closed her eyes and nodded.

“Then you’ll be happy to know that we just started. What repeated inductions are good for is training a subject to accept the trance, to acclimatize her to entering trance promptly and deeply when she’s triggered.”

“You were conditioning me to be hypnotized.” Jessica was filled with a warm, safe feeling to know that. “I can respond to your control without thinking.”

“Yes, Jessica. It isn’t usually this fast, but you’re a very suggestible subject.” Jessica blushed again, feeling just as exposed and pleased as when Sandy praised her looks. “And most therapists don’t directly use pleasure this way to condition their subjects. It helps the subjects learn to behave very quickly.”

“I love to behave,” Jessica said, liking the taste of the words in her mouth.

Sandy nodded. “Yes, you sure do.” Her smile widened. “In fact, I’ve rarely seen someone so naturally ready to be dropped into a trance.

“Helpless obedient trance.”

The room glimmered. Jessica knew she’d just been triggered, that there were words now that Sandy had fitted into her mind that would let Sandy turn it off when she wanted. Jessica had agreed to it, and let it happen. Sandy could control her only because Jessica agreed.

There was a hot, dim thought: Maybe—I agree because she controls me . . . Then it faded, and most of the rest of Jessica’s world faded, too.

Jessica felt her mind slow down and her will just . . . stop. She was awake, but that was it.

Sandy was still talking, but Jessica couldn’t track what she was saying.

Well, some of her could. She felt herself nodding, and heard herself responding softly and submissively to what Sandy was telling her. It was all a little beyond her right then.

But she knew it was perfectly all right.

For a moment she heard Sandy telling her firmly, quietly, persuasively something completely true about sleep and forgetting, something she must forget about when she woke from sleep.

But her mind had no secrets from Sandy, and her hypnotist saw her trying to put two thoughts together.

“Stop thinking, Jessica.”

Sinking deeper, Jessica obeyed.

5.

Jessica stood in her apartment. She looked down at herself. What had she been thinking, slipping on this red bikini?

Sleeping.

No point in going outside now. The sun was so low by now that if she caught any rays they’d be hitting her sideways. In any case, she’d have put on the more demure suit she usually wore. Not this bit of red naughtiness. And where had the time gone?

Forgetting.

She did look hot in the suit, though.

Glancing at a clock, she saw the time without real interest. This is not a good idea. I need to be studying. Tomorrow’s not going to be easy. Dochmann’s out for blood this week. She sighed. Well, it wasn’t like she’d lost the whole afternoon. She’d been . . .

Stop thinking.

Jessica closed her eyes and smiled. Whatever she’d been doing, she didn’t need to think about it.

“It was time well-spent.”

She started, opening her eyes and turning. Even as she did, she knew she’d just said it aloud, but for some reason it had sounded, in her head, like Sandy’s voice.

No longer thinking about whatever she’d done in the afternoon, she imagined her landlady here in her apartment, seeing her pose in the tasty little scraps of red lycra. She knew Sandy watched her, sometimes, when she’d sunned herself, and didn’t even really make a secret of it.

I wonder what would happen if I actually came on to her. The thought made Jessica dizzy, and a little wet.

Something in her head twinged. She’d played a little with a roommate once, and they’d gotten each other really excited, and Sandy was a handsome woman with an enviable body. It would be fun, but—

But she’s my landlady. Jessica thought about going to her—maybe wearing this bikini—smiling, inviting, seducing. Perhaps not saying a word. Sandy would . . .

Think she wanted something. Jessica shivered with the chilling thought of actually trying to sell herself to the woman downstairs. God, and Sandy probably knew she was straight, too, so it would be even more obvious—and so insulting.

Quickly she stripped off the swimsuit and slipped into sweats, plunging into study. Prof Dochmann wasn’t nearly as pretty as Sandy, but she was a lot scarier, even five tiers down in Faughan Hall 104. Jessica still hadn’t sussed her out. She might be one of those teachers who’d found a niche bullying a captive audience, or she might really have standards she expected them to meet.

Either way, being impaled by a Dochmann question would be like standing there in the little red swimsuit without the slightest erotic touch at all. Just humiliating. Bad enough when you were prepared, and if not . . . Jessica bore down.

A few hours later she looked bleakly at the clock. She had to sleep. She could keep studying, but she’d lose her edge tomorrow. Now she had a dread of sleeping through the alarm. It was a late-morning class—Dochmann sharpened her talons on freshmen in the early blocks before raking them across the ones who’d taken her elective—but she didn’t want to rush.

She shut down the laptop. God, she really was sleepy. It was like she’d taken a pill. She brushed her teeth and peered at herself in the mirror through lidded eyes, then struggled into her nightshirt and melted onto the bed.

Come.

She was sitting upright in her bed in the dark, listening, by the time she knew she was awake. She tingled, waiting. Her heart was pounding.

It came again. A command she heard inside her head, and in her womb.

Come.

She must.

Jessica thought about vampires, and how they called their beautiful, helpless victims from deep sleep. The touch of fear only spiced the excitement. She turned stiffly in bed like a vampire’s prey, staring, trembling. She slid off and stood and saw herself, moonlit in the mirror.

Come.

Its patient, noiseless throb enslaved her again.

She reached up and pulled the nightshirt off. She’d worn nothing underneath. The expressionless, naked girl in the mirror held the cloth in her hand and then dropped it heedlessly to the floor, and she gasped with how it turned her on. She stood still, hands slack by her hips. Her own skin tempted her.

Come.

Jessica stepped forward, slowly, stiffly. She must obey. She was utterly under the control of a more powerful will than her own. She was so spellbound that she could not even think of resisting.

Come.

She raised her arms in front of her. Seeing herself like a film zombie, nude and staring, sent a buzzing from her clit to the top of her head. She turned stiffly and marched through her dim apartment.

Come.

“I must obey,” she whispered aloud, and nearly choked on how good it felt.

The doors were open and she paced like an automaton from her bedroom, through the living room, out the front door to the landing. She’d been sleeping but the doors were open. She’d been defenseless against anyone who might have slipped in to take her.

What had slipped in was the command. It had taken her mind and will. As Jessica obeyed it she whined and forgot anything else.

Come.

She must obey.

There were candles on the landing. She padded robotically along the rug to the stairs, aware of more candles glowing downstairs but deliciously unable to move her gaze from between her outstretched hands. She stepped down the stairs. Her arms flickered in the candlelight and she thought of her body, lit that way, as she was drawn helplessly through the house, down to what wanted her.

What controlled her mind now.

Come.

“I must obey.” Jessica needed desperately to stop and kneel on the hallway floor and play with herself until she passed out.

But the call owned her and would not let her stop, or touch, or do anything but sleepwalk onward and juice at her own mindlessness.

Sandy’s door was open, too, and there was darkness inside.

Come.

Jessica’s arms twitched but she strode obediently forward. A small dazed sliver of her knew it was past midnight and she was walking nude into her landlady’s rooms, but it dissolved in a blur of heat.

“I must obey.” She was mortified and almost unbearably excited to hear her own voice say it aloud here, in someone else’s space. She felt herself falling deeper under the spell that drew her.

There were candles here, in a further room. She knew Sandy’s apartment, but that part of Jessica’s mind was asleep and something else guided her steps through the dark.

Come.

“I must obey,” she moaned. She stepped into the room, dim and gold and wild with the light of the candles.

The Goddess in the room gleamed like an idol, gold in the light. She was tall and inhumanly beautiful, jeweled at throat and arm and ankle with barbarous metal and bright stones, bare-breasted and long-skirted.

She wore Sandy’s face. Her eyes pierced Jessica’s soul.

Jessica gaped, and kept her arms out as she fell to her knees, extending them as she abased herself.

“I must obey,” she whimpered, searing her mind with a glance into those terrible eyes before she put her forehead to the floor.

There was no sound but her heartbeat. It raced inside her like a frightened rabbit, nothing like the throbbing command that had collared her will and brought her here to the Goddess’ feet.

Now the Goddess’ will was inside her. There was not even a command—Jessica simply felt herself obey as she rose to kneel erect, presenting herself, eyes downcast, breasts thrust forward, thighs spread to show her pussygleam in the flickering golden light. She gazed forward at how divinely Her hips curved under the sheer folds of Her skirt.

“I must obey,” Jessica prayed.

She felt her head tilt up and she looked into Goddess’ eyes—

—and felt the last fragments of willpower flow out of her. She knelt and gaped and juiced.

Jessica looked in front of her. There was nothing in her mind now but obedience, and when Her jeweled hand drew Her skirt aside, Jessica knew only to crawl forward and raise her lips to the lips that waited there between perfect thighs.

Jessica took Her scent and the last of her wits left her. Reeling, she leaned in to kiss and stayed to lick. Something touched her own pussy and each lick was echoed there, welding ecstasy and submission together. She no longer knew what her hands were doing and she lapped at Her dew.

Once more Her will was in Jessica’s mind and Jessica obeyed. Still licking, breathing Her sharp arousal, she raised her eyes. There, on the shining flat skin of Her belly, it gleamed, transfixing Jessica.

The pocketwatch.

She went to sleep.

6.

Jessica lay face down on her bed, nude on the sheets, with sunlight slatted across her from the venetian blinds. There was a strange, sharp taste in her mouth that made her head spin.

Sunlight. Ohhh crap!

She moved, and then cried out softly. Her hand was still fingertipped into her pussy and her twitch sent an electric jolt through her. Wonderingly she lifted her hand, smelling the musk before it was near.

I tasted myself . . . She was aroused and puzzled and then worried. She tensed, terrified to roll over and see how late she was. She’d meant to study some more, and now she’d be lucky if—

Still early. She sagged with relief. In the dorm, light at that angle meant later-morning, and she hadn’t yet gotten used to it here.

In Sandy’s house.

She rolled over and stared at the ceiling, fully awake. She could smell herself, and she could even imagine the taste on her tongue and lips was someone else’s. She couldn’t remember frigging herself to sleep. She felt like she’d had some intense, very pleasing sex, but she’d been dreaming about—

Snapping a glance at the bedroom door she saw it was closed, and didn’t know whether to be relieved.

She sat up. Well of course. It had to be a dream. Her willingly pretending to be some kind of hypnotized zombie-girl, and Sandy agreeably playing the witch goddess whatever—that could not have happened. She had to have imagined it.

Besides, I don’t really like women that way. Do I?

Jessica sat for a moment and fought hard against the need to lie back and masturbate again, just to think it had been real. She refused to ask herself why she’d dreamed of Sandy like that.

Well—my masochistic fantasies were about, say, Prof Dochmann hypnotizing me into worshipping her, that would be a problem. That observation got her into the shower, and the water brought her the rest of the way back to normality. Slipping into the blouse and jeans, she glanced at the texts and laptop and winced.

Normality was the unsexy grind of trying not to be Dochmann’s victim in today’s class. Maybe weird erotic dreams about her pretty landlady were a better deal. Jessica wasn’t sure why her id would be so eager to cast her as the naked suppliant slavegirl, though. And on top of that to be not just devoted and besotted but hypnotized—

Jessica decided she’d imagined the quiver that seemed to bring her pussy. And decided that she hadn’t stared a little too long at her own hips in the tight jeans as she bustled out to go do battle with Dochmann.

In daylight, the stairs and hallway rang with sanity, and the dream-memory of a naked pilgrimage down here receded further into her mind. The journey had ended on her knees in a flickering grotto, though, and the gleaming, pitiless goddess her id had made of Sandy was much harder to put aside.

I know I’m nervous about talking to her about the rent, and I really will have to, soon, but . . .

As if the thought had conjured her, Sandy opened her door as Jessica came by.

“Off to the mines again?”

Jessica had to stop. Sandy had no idea what her tenant had been dreaming about her, and her friendliness almost hurt. But it soothed Jessica, too, as if Sandy had hugged her.

“Alas,” she agreed. Before she could ask Sandy what she’d be doing, she realized Sandy was in a robe, wrapped snugly enough that it was clear she wore nothing under it.

Sandy caught her staring. “Sorry.” She grinned, not looking very sorry at all. “Just going out for a little sun. Now you’ll be envying me all day.” She looked into Jessica’s eyes and Jessica tingled.

She waited for Sandy to tease her a little more or else relent, but Sandy just kept smiling at her.

“Why don’t you join me?” she murmured.

“I—I have class,” she said, her mind suddenly empty of anything cleverer.

“Oh. Can’t I tempt you?”

Jessica clutched the handle of the laptop case like a talisman. She laughed weakly. Suddenly it was tempting. She could almost feel the warm sun and cool breeze. The naughty freedom of lying outside in a few scraps of lycra. Feeling Sandy’s gaze.

Hearing Sandy’s voice.

She wanted to yield to that temptation. It was knocking her off her feet like a great warm wave.

“You sadist,” she managed.

“I’m just admiring your willpower.” Jessica’s eyes lidded as the word settled in her mind. She almost didn’t want any.

“The bus is . . .”

“The bus,” Sandy purred, “will come, and then go. The sun is just outside.

“Of course, maybe I can just will you to stay. Will that work on you, Jessica? Can I make you succumb to my will?”

She reached up and took hold of Jessica’s arm, almost caressing her. Jessica trembled, feeling the resolve go out of her. She had to get to class now—coming in late for Dochmann was painting the bullseye on your forehead—but the more she knew that, the more exciting it was to think about being seduced into pissing the day away.

Sandy was touching her. All at once Jessica realized she could spend hours with her. Sandy wanted to.

“You’re weakening, Jessica. Your will is softer now.” Sandy still purred, and there was a strange, predatory edge to how she was smiling. It only made Jessica want it more. She remembered dangerous boys making her feel this way. But not quite this much.

This is a bad thing.

I need to . . .

Sandy stepped backward, still holding Jessica lightly. Jessica followed her, not wanting to break the touch.

“Yes. That’s it. Worship the sun.” It smote her with the pagan dream again, and she gasped.

“I c-can’t. Do this,” Jessica managed, in a very small voice. “I have. To go. I mustn’t do this.”

“I know.” Sandy held her other arm and looked deeply into her eyes. “That’s why you’re going to, isn’t it?”

Jessica’s knees almost gave out. She had no idea why this silly notion was conquering her. Or making her so hot to be conquered.

“Sandy. Please.”

Sandy nodded, then reached down and took the laptop case from her hands, setting it on a nearby chair. Jessica felt her strength fade as she let go. Sandy didn’t try to take the books.

“Surrender, Jessica. Soon you’ll be warm and oiled and mindless. No classes, no worries.

“No thoughts at all.”

The harder she tried to resist, the more Sandy’s voice throbbed though her mind, and what Sandy said now was stroking her into needing to submit.

She no longer even knew if she was thinking of taking up her things and trying to make the bus—or going obediently upstairs to strip and change. She whispered, “I need to get my suit.”

“No.” Sandy smiled and stepped back. “You don’t.”

She slid off the robe.

Jessica whimpered. Stripping was submission, but that was for human women—this was her dream-goddess, gleaming in flawless flesh. Sandy had just gained power, not surrendered it.

Jessica’s resistance was almost gone, thinner than the gleam on her pussy. It frightened her, distantly.

If she smiles if she speaks if she laughs if she just flexes that thigh

I won’t leave I can’t . . .

Sandy stood still, drinking in her struggle. She seemed to know she needed to do nothing, and Jessica would melt herself into a puddle of devotion without any more stroking.

Jessica took a deep breath and tried to remember why she was here, and school, and why Dochmann would be worthwhile in a year and a great war story in five years. The career. The life.

She barely remembered this had started as a joke. She just knew that in a moment she’d walk out.

Or crawl in.

“No,” she whispered.

Sandy smiled. “Part of you knows what’s happening, Jessica. And you’re stronger than I expected.

“But you’re still weak.” Her smile widened. “Because you’ll be a very good girl when you fall into the . . .” She winked.

“. . . helpless obedient trance.”

The trigger turned Jessica’s muscles to jelly and flooded her mind with cool blankness, like a breeze on her skin reminding her she was naked. The books spilled to the floor from her nerveless hands, and their uneven thump and clatter just stunned her deeper. Sandy’s lovely lips were still but the trigger kept thrumming through Jessica’s head and behind her cleft.

Sandy had her hypnotized somehow, and now she’d do whatever Sandy told her to. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but it was like knowing the sky was blue, and pussy was addictive—just how it was.

Knowing it felt better than sex. Any sex she could remember, anyway.

But remembering anything was getting harder with each heartbeat, as she sank deeper, and her mind began to slow to a halt for Sandy to change it.

“Stay with me, Jessica.”

Instantly she focused, alert now and ready to do what Sandy willed.

Sandy enjoyed her daze. Then she turned and sashayed to the door to her fenced backyard. She spoke without looking back. “Bring the lotion with you.” Jessica found herself turning to see the bottle where she’d pointed.

What am I doing? Just thinking that made her damp, and her hands went to her belt. As she undressed, she grew more and more aware of how crazy this was. She was throwing away progress she’d shed blood for, this semester.

The more she tried to think of it the warmer her pussy got. It was guilty fun to let her thoughts blur.

Sandy knows I’m dissolving. That just made her shiver and made her fingers awkward as she fumbled with shirt buttons and her underwear.

She thought of explaining this to Prof Dochmann—naked—and nearly collapsed with how hot that made her.

When she was nude and wide-awake in her landlady’s living room, she breathed out, and shivered again.

I was given a command.

“I’m hypnotized.” She spoke aloud, as she had in the dream. “I must obey the command.”

It turned her on, just as it had in the dream. She dearly wanted to touch herself, but instead she walked over to fetch the lotion as she’d been told to.

By the time she reached the door to the yard she was dizzy and eager. A breeze kissed her slick cleft cool, and she nearly climaxed.

But she only saw Sandy, reclining on a lounger and watching her hypnotized tenant obey her.

“I must obey the command,” she told Sandy as she padded over, reverently holding the lotion.

She had her orgasm when Sandy laughed softly and nodded.