Whatever It Takes
Chapter One: Icebreaker
Some professions are the ultimate ice-breakers.
That’s been the case for me, all my adult life. I’ll never forget that first sparkle in Roberta’s eyes, back at that party all those years ago, when I first said the fateful words to her.
I teach medical hypnosis to resident physicians.
What a way to rescue someone from the boredom of a party, right? Let alone someone who, shortly after, became my girlfriend. I’ve always felt a bit of a fraud for landing Roberta this way, truth be told. Medical hypnosis is nowhere near as glamorous as laypeople might think.
Now, at a superficial social function like a meaningless party, you can stay mysterious, shroud your words in vagueness to make them interesting, just for fun. But you can’t really do that in a relationship…
Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue. I mean, who’d be surprised to learn for a fact that medical hypnosis is entirely mundane, and definitely not capable of transforming people?
Except, as it turned out, Roberta’s interest in hypnosis… predated our meeting at the party.
She told me all about it, showing me all manner of salacious stories that had as much in common with real-world hypnosis as the stereotypical plumber character in porn does with real-world plumbers.
It was fun, of course, although a little unsettling, to see my profession so sexualised and turned into a grotesque caricature… but what wasn’t fun was the pouty longing on Roberta’s face.
We roleplayed it, of course. But not too much, because it’s a little weird for me… I have to go to work in the morning, and be able to look at the young residents here at the hospital without blushing uncontrollably.
She’s a little restless, my dear Roberta, when it comes to this kink of hers… I don’t blame her. Here she is, with a literal hypnotherapist for a girlfriend, and yet her hypno kink remains largely unfulfilled. Life is crazy like that.
Some professions can be the ultimate embarrassment. Both at home, and, as I’ve been starting to experience myself for the first time, at work, as well.
Enter Arianne.
No, literally. Arianne walks into my office without knocking, startling me from my elucubrations. I look up and meet her gaze, making really sure not to look anywhere else, because, god, even in the same white coat everyone wears here, she looks gorgeous. It seems to bring out the fiery red of her hair even more.
Resident physicians are a curious breed, I find. They’re technically doctors already, but until their residency is complete, they still face restrictions in practicing. And yet, the hospital virtually runs on them.
Some feel stifled by this combination of factors, and there’s no doubt that it breeds a degree of resentment and careerism. Others are insecure—about their chosen specialisation, their mentoring senior physicians, or worst of all, themselves. But every now and then, teaching young doctors, you stumble onto people like Arianne… people who clearly believe they’re going to change the world.
I love Roberta, and her submissive nature—unfulfilled as it goes with my rather vanilla sexuality—is very endearing. But I’ve always had a… weakness… for young girls like Arianne. The way there’s always a hint of a smile on her lips, like she’s thinking of a joke only she is privy to. Her perpetually arched eyebrow, a cutting, questioning look that seems to carry a hint of scorn.
She’s just… hot.
I steady my breathing. These are bedroom thoughts, and definitely don’t belong here, with the real Arianne standing before me. She may be a doctor, and an adult… but since she’s enrolled in my course, she’s also my student, in a way.
“Hello, Arianne. What can I help you with today?” I ask, sensing that she has an agenda beyond a simple discussion of her residency.
“I just wanted to talk to you about hypnosis,” she says, taking a seat across from me, elegantly crossing one leg over the other.
This is perhaps the only context in which that sentence doesn’t feel out of place. And yet, there’s something about Arianne’s demeanour that still makes me uneasy. I nod, waiting for her to elaborate.
“You know I’m a good student,” she says, a subtle smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “The very best.”
I sit back at that. Her voice is laced with an undertone of confidence that borders on arrrogance, but… she’s not wrong. In truth, not many resident physicians choose to specialise in therapy and counselling, and even fewer of those pick hypnotherapy, specifically. The field has a bit of a reputation, I guess.
It’s rare to come across truly gifted students, in my specialisation courses. But whatever else can be said about Arianne, no-one can deny that she is as brilliant as she is beautiful…
I compose myself, trying to sit a little straighter, waiting for Arianne to move past her gloating and get to the point.
“I understand why you have to parrot all that boring, safe, corporate PR talk in class,” she says, winking. “But I’m not one of the normies like everyone else, fawning over the idea of using hypnosis to help people remember when their favourite childhood toy got smashed by a car. I want to know about the real thing, Professor.”
It takes my brain a moment to process what Arianne is saying, what she’s really asking. And even then, I open and close my mouth listlessly for a few seconds, at a loss for words.
I find myself thinking of Roberta again, which makes me blush. Some people—even smart, talented and educated people, like my girlfriend or Arianne—seem to have trouble accepting that this is real hypnosis.
The boring stuff. The mundane stuff. The one that really does use relaxation and dissociation and ideomotor signalling to help people reframe and resolve bad habits. To quit addictions. Process past traumas.
It’s all perfectly ordinary, and milquetoast, and safe. Maybe that’s not as exciting, but if you ask me… the world is better for it. Can you imagine how scary the alternative would be?
I shake my head, disappointed that Arianne of all students would be asking this of me, miffed that I now have to think about this both here and at home. It’s like the world is trying to fault me because my honest and ordinary profession doesn’t make for good enough fetish material in the real world!
Or at least, Roberta is. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure why Arianne cares about this.
I try to answer firmly but diplomatically, as best I can.
“Arianne, I’m not sure I follow. I’ve been teaching you real, medical hypnsosis. That’s what my courses are for.” I give a startled chuckle. “Quite frankly, I find it somewhat offensive to suggest that I withhold information from my students.”
Arianne rolls her eyes, as if impatiently waiting for me to finish a pre-planned spiel. Then, she leans forward, smiling enigmatically. “Come on, Professor Jones! You’ve seen how clever I am. Do you really think I deserve to hear the boiler plate stuff? Skip the disclaimers, it’s the truth I want. I promise you, I can handle it.”
No, you can’t, I almost tell her. Because the truth is that there’s no “secret” real hypnosis I’ve been hiding, Arianne, except you don’t want to hear that.
But I don’t say that out loud. As bizarre as this exchange is, I want to navigate it constructively and, if possible, genuinely help her get over whatever this unhealthy obsession with hypnosis is.
“Help me out here, Arianne,” I say in a calm, soothing voice. “What’s this sudden interest of yours?”
Arianne laughs heartily. “Sudden? Come on. I know I’m good, and I’m ambitious, too. Do you really think I’d sign up for this course, if all it resulted in was to join the ranks of the washed-up has-beens, moping and bleating to patients that are even more pathetic than they are?”
The sharpness of Arianne’s words shock me. I’m not sure she realises how serious the stuff she’s saying is. How deontologically damning. I feel a sudden itch to revisit her evaluation on the ethical conduct of hypnotherapy…
“I’m here for the real techniques. The real knowledge. For real hypnosis…” she says, and there’s something different to her as she says that, a fire I’ve never seen before.
“You know, Professor Jones, I’m disappointed. I thought I’d proven myself as one that doesn’t fit the usual mold. But clearly that wasn’t enough. I may have to try a little harder…”
Her voice is soft, seductive, and the way she leans in just a little closer sends a shiver down my spine.
“Maybe there’s another way I can convince you to share your secrets with me. I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement….”
I feel a flush creep up my neck as she speaks, and I realize with mounting horror what she’s suggesting. I should—no, must, I’m duty bound to—end this encounter immediately. Ask her, firmly but politely, to get out, unless she wants to be reported to the dean of medicine. So why haven’t I done that yet?
Sweat pearls my forehead. The temptation is palpable, and I can sense myself slipping. I grip the edge of the desk, trying to think of my code of conduct. Of my girlfriend.
Arianne leans forward, propping her chin up with her delicate fingers. Her emerald eyes meet mine, with an intense gaze that pins me in place. I don’t feel in control of the situation, and I have no clue why that is.
“I’m not asking for anything unreasonable, Professor Jones,” Arianne says, her voice low and sultry. “I just want to be sure that my knowledge reflects my true potential. And I think we both know that my potential is much higher than what you’ve been teaching the normies…”
Her gaze flickers down to my lips for a brief moment before returning to my eyes. It’s a subtle move, but it’s enough to send my heart racing.
“Look, Arianne,” I say, trying to keep my tone even. “I understand that you’re ambitious, and I admire that. But… even glossing over the gross ethical violations you keep describing, and the complete disrespect for colleagues and patients… that’s just not what hypnosis actually is. This isn’t one of those stories…”
I instantly realise my mistake, and embarrassment sets my cheeks on fire. Arianne’s feigned innocence is betrayed by the sudden narrowing of her eyes.
“Oh?” She asks, softly. “What stories do you have in mind… Professor?”
I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, to calm the furious beating of my heart. All of Roberta’s whispered fantasies, the stories she’s shared with me, rush into my mind, staining my propriety with their impossible promises of a different kind of hypnosis…
In those stories, Roberta always cast me as the dominant, and that’s why I could never take them too seriously, hot as they were. I know too much about real hypnosis for suspension of disbelief to work.
But now, as I look at this girl ten years younger than me, pristine white coat, deep emerald eyes, hair red like fire, and that smirk on her face…
I’m not casting myself as the dominant. And the stories about the evil hypnotists seem to take an altogether more ominous light, from this vulnerable vantage…
Arianne leans even closer, getting up from the chair and leaning over the desk, her eyes never leaving mine. “I know you’re a knowledgeable woman, Professor Jones,” she says, her breath warm on my cheek. “And I know that you’re a woman who can appreciate ambition and drive. You wouldn’t be where you are today if you weren’t… would you?”
I shy away from her look, then. Truthfully, I wouldn’t think of myself as ambitious at all, but somehow, admitting this in front of her… while she’s trying to seduce me, while I’m not rebuffing her… feels like an admission of weakness. I press my lips together, keeping quiet.
As she leans in closer, her eyes flashing with a challenge, I can’t help but feel a jolt of electricity run through me. Why did I have to bring up those damned stories? I see them in my head, now, superimposed on Arianne, like in a fever dream. I can sense her dominance, her desire to take control of the situation and bend it to her will.
Bend me to her will.
The thought alone is enough to make adrenaline spiral and race down my limbs, making them quiver and slacken. I can’t shake the thought, I can’t. The thought of her turning the tables on me, of me bowing to kiss her feet like a dog…
“I can show you things you’ve never experienced before,” she whispers in my ear, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “For once, let me teach you, Professor. Let me show you how to truly let go.”
I feel a shiver run through me at her words, at the way she takes control of the situation. It’s as if she knows exactly what buttons to push, exactly how to get me to do what she wants.
Her hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair from my face, and I feel my heart skip a beat. She’s sitting on the desk right now. Sitting taller than me. Why aren’t I saying anything?
“I’m not asking for the moon,” she continues. “I’m just asking you to recognise what I’m capable of. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”
Her eyes linger on mine, as she spells out each word for emphasis.
“Whatever. It. Takes.”
Her words hang in the air between us, heavy with implication. And suddenly, I’m acutely aware of how close she is, her body is pressed against mine, how her lips are just inches away from mine.
I know I should pull away, set some boundaries, but the heat in my body is overpowering my logic, and her boldness is captivating me.
My loyalty to Roberta is unwavering, but there’s something thrilling about this moment. The student, entrapping the professor, in search for knowledge the professor herself does not possess… God, that sets my teeth on edge.
Arianne leans in closer, her warm breath caressing my neck.
“You can’t deny that you want this, Amanda,” she purrs, her lips grazing my earlobe. Amanda. She’s used my first name. Oh no…
“It’s okay to want this… to need this… all I ask in return is your knowledge. A freely-given gift…” she giggles. “To be repaid twice over, and in kind. You want me to own you. And I’m more than willing to oblige...”
“Arianne, please,” I manage to say, my voice so feeble, so small. “This is not appropriate, and I cannot engage in this type of behaviour with a student…”
“Hmm,” Arianne muses, her lips moving up and down bare inches away from the skin of my neck, making my breath come in short, shallow gasps. Like I’m prey, about to be bitten and subdued by a much stronger predator. “Say yes,” she whispers. “Give in to me… give me your secrets…”
I feel my resolve starting to weaken and wane…
There is but one more defensive weapon left, in my empty arsenal…
“Arianne,” I say, mustering what courage I can, failing to meet her gaze, as if she’s the one evaluating me. “I want this, I need this, but… I have no secrets to give you. No secret knowledge to share… there’s none. I promise!”
The words I’ve just said cannot be unsaid.
I haven’t said, no Arianne, you are a resident physician here, and as your course lecturer, it’s inappropriate for you to try and seduce me.
I haven’t said, no, Arianne, I have a girlfriend.
I’ve said, yes, and yes, but I don’t have what you really want from me…
It’s an admission of failure. Even if Arianne does back off now, it’ll be because she chose to, not because I asserted my boundaries. I’m not sure if I can recover from this, what that says about me as a professor, a girlfriend, a person. But if I want to find out, I need to get to the other side, first.
Arianne seems to recoil at my words, stepping away from me, her demeanour now rigid with disapproval and disbelief. “You mean you…” she blinks, confused, struggling to find the words. “You’ve been teaching hypnotherapy for how many years? And you’ve never even wondered if there was more?”
I look at her in exasperation, angry at myself for how much her disapproval hurts. Why? She’s a student, and not one I have a personal rapport with. Why do I crave her validation?
“Arianne, there isn’t anything to wonder about,” I insist. “This is all there is!”
“How would you know?”
The question is plain, direct, softly-spoken. As I fumble for a reply that doesn’t coalesce, I have to acknowledge it’s not even entirely out of place. Arianne is basically asking an epistemological question, and as a lecturer on medical hypnosis, I should have the answer at the ready.
“Because…” I begin, but then stop, uncertain. “Well, there’s never been…”
I narrow my eyes, confused, bringing a hand to my forehead. My head is pounding.
“That’s kind of pathetic, actually,” Arianne says. The harsh words belie the superficially nurturing tone she’s using, as she steps closer to me once more, circling behind my chair now. I shudder as her hands rest on my shoulder. I don’t dare look up at her.
“Imagine what lack of ambition you must have… what lack of vision… is that where my mistake lies, Amanda?”
Arianne lowers herself until her lips are level with my ear. She nibbles at it, softly, gently. “That’s it, isn’t it? I assumed you were like me. That you weren’t a normie. Then again, that was pretty stupid of me. Why would you be teaching this stuff to residents, if you weren’t a loser yourself?”
Her teeth scrape the skin of my ear.
“You know what they say… those who can, do. And those who can’t, well… they end up teaching a bunch of losers who pick counselling because they don’t have what it takes to become real doctors…”
Arianne’s words hit me like a slap in the face, and I can feel my cheeks flushing with anger and indignation. Who does she think she is, speaking to me like that?
But… where is she wrong?
I’ve known Arianne to be destined for a great future the moment she first enrolled in my course. And what about me? A mere professor, with no real goals beyond getting to the end of the month, returning home to a sexually repressed Roberta, content with my barely adequate salary.
Am I… a normie?
A loser?
Arianne’s voice brings me back to the moment. “More tragically…” she whispers, “they end up with a girlfriend whose hypno kink they can’t satisfy…”
The world around me suddenly stops.
I catch my breath, my pupils dilating, my heart racing, as my mind teeters on what seems like the edge of a gaping maw, a bottomless precipice.
What the hell did Arianne just say?
“That’s it,” she whispers softly, so softly. “There’s the moment I love… the darkest moment of confusion. Just before the dawning of comprehension. You know Roberta’s gonna dump you, don’t you, Amanda?”
I turn towards Arianne, snarling, my hands closing into fists.
“Who do you think you are?” I shout. “Have you been spying on me? How dare you!”
Arianne stares at my outburst with impeccable composure, making a show of contemplating her fingernails. “Not everyone is a weak, myopic simulacrum of mediocrity like you are, Amanda. Some who find hypnosis intriguing do wonder… and they go searching, and well… to seek is to find…”
Her eyes meet mine again, then.
And my rage fails me, disappearing as suddenly as it came. It’s like a thick veil of confusion has descended upon me, enveloping my brain in morass, making it hard to see, to think clearly.
“This never gets old,” Amanda whispers. “Always as good as the first time…”
“First time?” I say, panting. “Arianne, what are you talking about?”
My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I can barely hear myself think. As she leans in even closer, cradling my face in her hands, I feel a surge of electricity shoot through my body. I hate her. I never knew I had such feelings for this student, we barely know one another, and yet there’s no denying the burning fire of resentment within me…
Nor the brighter fire of lust, as I crave her touch, her warmth, her entrapment. I want her, I realise with a shock. I want her more than anything I’ve ever wanted before.
And with that realization comes the fear. Not fear of what will happen if I give in to her, but fear of what might have happened once before…
“It’s all coming back now, isn’t it, pet?” She whispers, and I look up at her, stupefied, silenced by shock, shaking my head as my mind reels under the building pressure of a rising tide, of a dam that is about to burst.
“To seek is to find,” she whispers, “and over the year that has elapsed since I first attended one of your insufferably shallow lectures, I’ve found so, so many things…”
“A year?” I croak. “No… that can’t be…”
“I’ve been a very naughty student,” Arianne whispers mockingly. “You should report me to the dean of medicine… you should tell her that I’ve been slowly loosening your grip on your girlfriend. One finger at a time… while applying my own, tightening it more and more. The poor thing is much better off this way… you were as boring a girlfriend as you are a lecturer.”
I’m starting to hyperventilate. Roberta. Desperate and needy for a hypnodomme, perpetually disappointed by my lack of investment with a kink that I found simply too outlandish to believe.
But how can I not believe now?
“I did so slowly, methodically, deliberately…” Arianne continues, with a predatory grin. “One could almost say, hypnotically.”
I find myself losing my balance, and it’s only Arianne’s strong grip on my hair and shoulders that prevents me from toppling down from my chair, and onto the floor. So weird. Almost like she was expecting that I’d do that…
“Of course, the dean of medicine would have trouble taking your complaints seriously,” Arianne continues, her hand starting to wrap around my throat. “With all the things I’ve had you do, since I first hypnotised you…”
The sudden panic on my face must be really obvious, because Arianne answers my question before I get to ask it.
“You know, the usual,” she says with feigned casualness. “Getting you and Roberta to compete over who can debase herself the most at my feet… making you cook up humiliating punishments and tasks for each other, doing your utmost to prove which one is the better slave, the most devout to my unshakeable rule…”
This cannot be. This isn’t real. I’m in a nightmare. I need to wake up.
If what she says is true, why don’t I remember?
If what she says is false, why am I so terrified?
“There was that time I made you accidentally confess to the dean that you find your current break-up devastatingly hot. No wonder she’s been avoiding you as much as possible since then. Of course, you returned the favour when you made Roberta confess to her colleagues at the law firm that she’s hopelessly submissive to a girl doctor ten years younger than her. That was priceless.”
She rolls her eyes, making a show of trying to recall something. “Oh!” She says at last. “And Roberta’s cooked up some pretty fucked up public humiliations for you. Like when she made you openly declare in class that you were single because you weren’t good enough for your girlfriend…”
Arianne lets me go, then, and I buckle under the weight of my shock, my confusion, and my terror. I find myself dropping to my knees, panting to catch my breath, looking for any detritus to cling to, in this maelstrom that has engulfed me.
“But all of that is child’s play, really.” Arianne’s voice is lower now, and much more ominous. “Now, Amanda, the real challenge begins. I’m going to put you and Roberta through your paces. You’re going to have to put in some effort, to utterly try and humiliate one another in public, and break one another in private.”
She takes a hold of my chin, forcing me to lose myself into the deep green sea of her mesmerising gaze. “This time, it will be real challenges. With real consequences. And real stakes… for winner and loser alike.”
Her forehead presses against mine. “So, are you ready to play, to prove yourself the better slave? Ready to get back at your ex-girlfriend for dumping you? Or to succumb to your inadequacy, and let her rub it in that you’ve lost her forever? The house always wins, Amanda… but your squabble is going to entertain me so. Fucking. Much.”
“None of this is true,” I say, in a daze, my voice feeble. I’m not sure I even remotely believe what I’m saying, but I have to say it, because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. The alternative has no place in a sane world.
Arianne’s only reaction is to laugh.
“No matter how many times we go through this,” she says, shaking her head, “we always have to get to this part, don’t we, pet? That’s alright. But be warned: I’m serious. This time will not be like the others. This time… no safety net. No holds barred. Because it’s not a game anymore.”
She lifts one index finger, moving it left and right, and my head snaps to follow it, my eyes locked onto it, as if it’s the centre of my world. And then, Arianne brings her fingers together.
“Remember,” she says.
Her fingers snap.
And the dam breaks.