MesmerISP
Chris had only just got home from work and fired up the computer to check his Twitter feed when the doorbell rang. He opened the door to see a short, dumpy woman with straight black hair and glasses. She wore a dark grey skirt suit and carried a bulky shoulder bag.
“Mr Thomas? I’m from Weeping WilloW Web Providers, the company that does your internet,” she said, holding up an ID card which confirmed that she was an employee of theirs and revealed her name to be Daphne White. There was a hint of weariness in her expression as she unnaturally stressed the third ‘w’ in the name, suggesting that emphasising the unconventionally capitalised letter was a directive from higher up in the organisation. “I’m here to improve your service.”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone,” said Chris, a little surprised. “I haven’t had any problems with streaming or anything like that.”
Daphne White smiled. She looked quite pretty when she did that. “We like to be proactive. Isn’t it better to get something before you know you want or need it, rather than have to ask and wait?”
It made sense when she put it like that. Chris let her into the house and showed her through to the study. “Do you need it switched off so you can install some new component?”
“No. Turned on is just what I need.”
Chris tightened his lips, trying not to smirk at her inadvertent double entendre.
She reached into her bag and took out a chunky-looking memory stick. “I will need to run something on your computer, but it shouldn’t interfere with your web access, so you can get on with your Tweets while it’s doing its stuff.”
She plugged the stick into a vacant USB port and double-clicked an icon in the window that popped up. A program opened and minimised, and a faint hum became audible.
“Just ignore the noise. In a minute or two you won’t even notice it. Now, while that’s running, I’ll just pop outside and check your connections. Is it okay if I leave the door on the latch, to save disturbing you again to get back in?”
“Sure.”
As she left, Chris sat in front of the monitor and began to read. The hum was still noticeable, but it wasn’t annoying. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t think what it reminded him of. And it wasn’t just a hum. It had a texture to it, a throbbing sound so rapid that the beats practically blurred into one continuous tone. Maybe something else besides, some sounds on the edge of hearing, but nowhere near loud enough for him to be able to make out what they were.
He blinked dully at the words on the screen. Had he read them? If so, they hadn’t registered, so he tried again. Whatever meaning they might have still didn’t get through to him. His third attempt was equally unsuccessful, and after that he stopped trying and just stared at the little clusters of letters.
Daphne checked the time. She’d been out of the house for almost ten minutes, which should be more than enough for the binaurals and subliminals to have softened Chris up.
She reentered the house and went through to the study. A thrill ran through her at the sight of Chris gaping at the screen. So far her plan was working.
“Chris,” she softly called, “can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about. You see, I have to monitor a random selection of websites visited by clients. It’s just a quality control thing, all in the contract, covered by the privacy statement, in line with the applicable laws. But the thing is, I couldn’t help but notice certain of the sites you like to visit.” She named a few, all of them dedicated to hypno-erotica.
Chris was still finding it difficult to concentrate, but this reminded him of an argument he’d had with his ex a short time before they broke up. With an effort, he reprised what he’d said back then. “There’s nothing illegal there. Those places have strict rules about underage stuff.”
“Oh, I’m not condemning or criticising you, Chris. I’m recognising a shared interest.”
“Okay.” The little tension created by her mention of the websites ebbed away. It felt good to know that she didn’t think they were bad places.
“You like reading about women hypnotising men, and I like stories about men being hypnotised by women.”
“That’s nice.” He smiled lazily. She wasn’t judging him. Not like whatsername.
Daphne licked her lips. “And some of the stories you keep rereading suggest that you’re all right with the idea of being dominated by a… more full-figured woman.”
“It’s all good. Chubby, skinny, in between…”
She stepped closer, moved Chris’ hand off the mouse, and opened up a second program on the stick. The screen filled with a swirling multi-coloured vortex that spiralled perpetually inwards. Chris needed no prompting to become absorbed in the image before him.
“You like my spiral, don’t you, Chris?”
“Mmm…”
“And you know what spirals do to men like you, don’t you?”
He grinned dreamily. “Hypnotise them.”
Daphne glanced at his lap. Even when spying on him through his webcam, she’d never caught sight of his penis, but the bulge that was forming indicated that it must be of a satisfactory size.
“That’s right. They hypnotise men into obeying women. They hypnotise submissive men into thinking that big girls like me are incredibly sexy. They hypnotise submissive men like you into wanting to eat pussy. And you want this spiral to do that to you, don’t you, Chris?”
“Yeeeessssss,” he breathed.
“The spiral is hypnotising you. It makes you want to obey me. Say you want to obey me.”
“I want to obey you.” His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. Obviously the suggestions that obeying would induce feelings of pleasure had taken effect.
“The spiral is hypnotising you. It makes you think I am the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen. Tell me how sexy you think I am.”
“Sooo sexy.” His hand moved towards the tent in his trousers.
Her voice hardened. “Bad boy! No touching without permission.”
Chris’ hand fell to his side, and he hung his head, though his eyes remained fixed on the screen.
“That’s better. The spiral is hypnotising you, Chris. It makes you want to eat my pussy. You want to see it, to feel it against your face, to breathe in its sexy, sexy perfume, to taste its sweet nectar.”
He drew a trembling breath as his receptive mind soaked in her words.
“Ask me to let you eat my pussy, Chris. Get down on your knees and beg for it.”
He slid off his chair and onto his knees, craning his head up to try and look at both the spiral and Daphne at the same time. “Please… I want to eat your pussy. Please let me. Please!”
She switched the monitor off. “You don’t need to look at the spiral any more. It’s done its work. Just look at me now. Look at your beautiful, sexy Mistress and obey.”
Pleading and adoration mingled in his eyes as he gazed up at her. “I obey, Mistress. Can I eat your pussy, please?”
She unfastened her skirt, dropped it to the floor, and stepped out of it. Then she removed her tights, not wanting to risk getting them laddered.
Returning her attention to Chris, she spoke softly. “Now I want you to very gently pull my panties down with your teeth. And then you can have what you want. You can lick me until I cum, and lap it all up like the good hypnotised slave that you are.”
Chris leaned up and carefully took hold of the hem of her sopping wet panties with his teeth. With tantalizing slowness he pulled downwards, her pubic hair tickling his face, until the panties had slid far enough down her hips for gravity to finish the job. Daphne hurriedly manoeuvred her ample buttocks into the chair he had vacated and spread her legs. “Good boy. Claim your reward.”
For a moment Chris gazed enraptured at the sight before him, inhaling deep lungfuls of Daphne’s most intimate scent. Then he buried his face between her thighs and slid his trembling tongue deep inside her, savouring her salty-sweet taste and probing for the secret spot that would help bring her to the climax they both so fervently desired.
As she felt the orgasm building within her, Daphne wrestled her thoughts back to consolidating her hold on Chris’ will. “This feels so good… Oh, so fucking good. Even better than you imagined it could be. You’re going to want to do this again and a—“
She came so hard, several seconds went by before she could speak again. “Again. Don’t stop. Keep going.”
Chris gulped audibly, and the tip of his tongue sought out her clit once more, started to tease it again with renewed vigour.
Chris had just finished cleaning up after Mistress Daphne’s third orgasm, and was about to start work on giving her a fourth one, when she put her hands on his head and pushed him away from herself. Confused, disappointed, and fearful that he’d done something wrong, he looked up, and was relieved to see the smile on her face.
“Where’s the bedroom?” she asked.
He started to tell her, and she interrupted, “Show me.”
Once he’d led her up there and she had pronounced the bed ‘clean enough’, she instructed him, “Take off your clothes. Just drop them on the floor.”
She moved out of his field of vision as he obeyed. When he was naked, his hard-on jutting out in front of him, she whispered, “Turn around.”
The sight he beheld upon doing so caused his eyes to widen still further, his jaw to drop, and a glistening droplet of pre-cum to begin its slow descent from the tip of his cock. Mistress Daphne had removed the rest of her clothes, and had her arms folded to support her full bosom. Her prominent nipples, haloed by areolas of a deeper pink than the rest of her beautiful breasts, held his gaze like unblinking eyes, and his head turned to follow her as she moved the short distance to the bed and sat down.
“Am I the most desirable woman you’ve ever seen?”
Too tongue-tied to speak, he nodded, his eyes still fixed on her luscious nipples.
“And I always will be, won’t I?”
Of course she would. This was so self-evident, he couldn’t understand why she was even asking. He told her as much, though it came out sounding more like, “Nghnhh!”
She was moving, turning. At the edges of his vision Chris could see her raising her legs as she lay back and stretched out along the bed.
“You have pleased me, and as a reward, you may join me. Get up here and let me enjoy the feel of that cock inside my pussy.”
Chris knelt between her legs and pushed the tip of his erection into the cleft between her legs, still warm and wet from his earlier attentions. He started to thrust in and out of her, and she reached up and drew his torso down onto hers, where he could nuzzle against her soft breasts, his hands coming up to knead and stroke and caress them. Her moans and cries confirmed that he was again bringing her pleasure, and he took delight in the knowledge that he was serving her well.
She had said she would improve his service, and now he understood what she had meant. To be the instrument of her pleasure, to bring her to orgasm again and again, to dedicate his life to meeting her needs… there was no greater service to enter into than that.
Her limbs tightened around him, crushing him against her magnificent body as she came again, bringing him to his own climax. He endeavoured to continue his ministrations, but now a comfortable lethargy flooded his body and mind, and he slid into contented oblivion as Mistress Daphne began whispering further sweet suggestions into his ear.