SHE NAMES HIM
My girlfriend, Jody, wanted to go to a stage hypnosis show she’d heard about. “You don’t really believe in that stuff?” I asked her. She asked me what I meant. “It’s fake, like pro wrestling. There’s no such thing as hypnosis. The people who get up on stage and cluck like chickens or whatever are just exhibitionists, looking for an excuse to make fools of themselves. There’s no supernatural power at work. You don’t need magical mind control powers to entice people who crave attention to make spectacles of themselves. It happens all the time on reality TV. Jerry Springer doesn’t need hypnosis, just a camera crew and a sound stage.” But she had already made up her mind, and nothing I or any man could say would change it. Even the charisma and oratory skill of a JFK would have made no difference. We were going to the hypnosis show. Women.
At least the hypnotist was hot. In fact, as soon as Jody saw the hypnotist, and saw me staring at the hypnotist’s tits, I could tell that Jody was beginning to have second thoughts. But too late now. Even before Mistress Mesmera opened her mouth I was under her spell. We weren’t going anywhere. Or I wasn’t, at least. And yeah, “Mistress Mesmera” is corny as fuck, but with tits like those she could have called herself Christy Cunt or Tammy Twat for all I cared.
And her voice was as soft and inviting, and as demanding of my attention, as her tits. It didn’t matter what she said—I can’t remember a word of it— it was the most important message I had ever heard or ever would hear.
But then she finished speaking, and I felt I’d just awakened from a dream. “What’d I miss?” I asked Jody, thinking I had dozed off. But she was just as dazed as I was.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mistress Mesmera said, and even though I knew better, I wanted to believe she was speaking directly to me and not to the whole audience. “This must be some really boring shit if it’s putting you to sleep.” And I laughed, because that was exactly what I was thinking. And it took me a second to realize the rest of the audience was laughing, too, because it took me a second to realize there was a “rest of the audience”.
“I have found that it is not always easy to hypnotize certain men, certain special men. These special men listen to my every word, just as all men listen to my every word, but these men are different; these men are special. And it is these special men I am speaking to now. I wish I could make these men obey my every command. I wish I could make these men desire to serve me, desire to fall to their knees and worship Mistress Mesmera. I need these men to listen to me and obey me. Which men? Which men are the special men, the men I would like to focus all attention upon me? You want to know which men I am talking about. You are very curious. Which men?”
And she paused, and I was beginning to lose patience with Mistress Mesmera, and I was just about to say, “Okay, tell us already”, when she spoke:
“The men with four-inch penises.”
The audience laughed. Jody laughed. I had to join in, of course, hoping nobody noticed that I wasn’t laughing as loudly as the rest, and wishing Jody wasn’t laughing so loud.
“A man with a four-inch penis is a very special man,” Mistress Mesmera said. “Special men do not always fall under my spell and obey my every command and follow my every suggestion. There is probably a man with a four-inch penis in this audience. I mean, of course, a man whose erect penis is four inches. He would love to show me his four hard inches. He is listening to me right now, and thinking about how his four hard inches would feel between my tits. His four hard inches sliding between my tits. Fucking my tits. He wants to show me what a strong man he is. He wants to show me how hard it is to make him obey his Mistress Mesmera. He wants to show me how hard it is to believe everything his Mistress Mesmera tells him. He wants to show me how hard he is, how hard he is for Mistress Mesmera. He wants to stand up right now and point to Mistress Mesmera and shout, ‘YOU ARE A FRAUD!’”
And I couldn’t take it any more. This was the biggest load of bullshit I’d ever heard, and someone had to put a stop to it. I stood and pointed right at the bitch and said, “YOU ARE A FRAUD!”
And the audience laughed, because they knew I was right. And Jody laughed the loudest. It felt so good to be vindicated.
“Here he is now, ladies and gentlemen,” Mistress Mesmera said, “that special man I told you about. You do feel special, don’t you.”
“Yes,” I said.
“You will address me as Mistress. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You want to tell me why you think hypnosis is a fraud. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“And you want to tell me in dog language. You want to get down on all fours and bark like a dog, telling me in dog language what you think of hypnosis. You are waiting for my permission to get down on all fours and bark like a dog. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Tell me what you are waiting for my permission to do.”
“To get down on all fours, to bark like a dog, Mistress.”
“You have my permission. Do it!”
I got down on all fours and told her and everyone in the audience why I thought hypnosis was bullshit: “ARF! ARF ARF ARF! ARF ARF! ARF! ARF ARF! ARF! ARF!”
“Silence,” she said.
I finished speaking, confident I had convinced everyone, especially Jody, of what a sham hypnosis was.
“Now listen carefully,” she said. I can’t remember what she said next, but I know it was very important. Her hypnosis act may have been bullshit, but she knew how to hold a man’s attention.
Then she finished speaking, and the show was over. Time to go home.
I went home alone. I didn’t know, or care, what happened to Jody. I didn’t need Jody. I needed to talk to a different woman. I needed phone sex. I dialed the number of a phone sex service I used to call before I met Jody, whenever I was between girlfriends. I had a favorite I would call at least once a week, an older woman named Melody, and now, months later, Melody was still working for the service.
I always had the same fantasy when I called. Our conversations always began, “Melody, I want my Mommy.” And Melody would purr, “You want your Mommy?” “Yeah.” “Mommy’s here. Mommy’s always here for you, sweetheart.” Then I would tell Mommy my problem, how sometimes it would get hard. You know. Down there? “Yes, Mommy knows,” she said. And I had to tell Mommy why it gets hard, how I’m always thinking about this girl at school. Her name is Dawn, and she has, well, she has...
“She has what, sweetie?” Mommy asked.
“She has big titties, Mommy.” There. I said it.
“You mean like Mommy?”
“Yours are bigger.”
“Would you like to see Mommy’s titties?”
“Oh yeah!”
“Okay, I’ll take off my robe. There.”
“Mommy, you’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you, sweetie.”
“You’re way prettier than Dawn.”
“Ohhhh, thank you, sweetheart. Would you like to touch Mommy’s titties?”
“Yeah!”
“Go ahead, sweetie. Feel how soft they are.”
“Mommy, there’s something I want to do.”
“What is it, sweetie?”
“It’s so hard right now.”
“Let me unbutton your pants so I can feel it. Oh! It is hard! And big, too! My little boy is growing up.”
“You want to see it, don’t you, Mommy.”
“Yes, sweetheart, I do.”
“I’ll pull down my pants and take off my shorts. See? See how hard it is?”
“Yes, I see. And I see how big it is, too.”
“I like it when you tell me how big it is, Mommy.”
“It IS big. It’s so big, sweetheart.”
And a voice inside my head commanded, TELL HER HOW BIG IT IS. A familiar voice, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it. TELL HER HOW BIG IT IS, the voice said again.
“Four inches, Mommy. My hard one is four inches.”
“Oh... well, that’s nice, sweetie. It will get bigger as you grow older.”
TELL HER, “NO IT WON’T.”
“No it won’t.”
“Well, four inches is big enough, sweetie.”
TELL HER, “NO IT ISN’T.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Well, Mommy will make it bigger. Crawl into bed with me.”
I waited for another command from the voice. (Where had I heard that voice before. It was so familiar...)
“Sweetie,” Melody said, “are you still there?”
“Yeah, Mommy, I’m still here.”
“That’s good. Now why don’t you climb into bed with Mommy.”
“Actually, Mommy, there’s something I really wanna’ do.”
“What’s that, sweetie?”
“I want to put it between your titties. My hard one between your titties.”
YOUR FOUR-INCH HARD ONE.
“My four-inch hard one.”
“Oh, you mean you want to titty-fuck Mommy? That’s what it’s called, sweetie, titty-fucking.”
“Yeah! I wanna’ titty-fuck you, Mommy! Fuck yeah!”
“Yes, sweetie, we can say those words. Titty-fuck your Mommy! Put your big hard cock right between those titties and fuck them! Fuck Mommy’s titties!”
“Yeah! Fuck Mommy’s titties!”
“Yeah, sweetie, fuck Mommy’s titties!”
Now it was time to start stroking it. Good thing I’d already undressed before I called. I was naked, on my knees, stroking my four hard inches and moaning, “Yeaaaahhhhhhh!”
And now I was getting more excited. “Yeah, Mommy! Take it, Mommy! Take it, you bitch! Take my punishment! Punish your titties! Punish your titties!”
“Yeah, sweetie,” she said. “Punish Mommy’s titties!”
WITH YOUR FOUR INCHES.
“With my four inches!”
“Yes, sweetie, punish Mommy with your four inches.”
WITH YOUR TEENY WEENIE.
“With my teeny weenie, Mommy!”
“Yes, sweetheart, with your... teeny weenie.”
WITH YOUR LITTLE CLITTY-DICK.
“With my little clitty-dick, Mommy!”
“With your...” and Mommy, I mean Melody, was laughing.
“Stop it, Mommy! Stop laughing! I can’t come if you laugh.”
She stopped laughing; cleared her throat. “Sorry, baby.”
That was better. I was in control again. Mommy needed her little man to be in control. “Yeah, Mommy, you need a man to take control. You need a man to punish...”
CLUCK LIKE A CHICKEN.
Now I was telling Mommy in chicken language how her titties needed a man’s punishment. “Pawwwwwwwwk pok-pok-pok, pok-pok-paaaawwwwwwwwwwk!”
Mommy was laughing again. I told her to stop: “Pawwwwk pok-pok-pok!” But that just made her laugh louder. “Pawwwwwk pok-pok!” Stop laughing, you fucking bitch! “Paaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwk! Pok-paaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwk!” But nothing I could say would make her stop, not even when I threatened to call the office and demand my money back. “Pawk! Pawk! Pawk!”
Now I was crying. Mommy was laughing at me. I couldn’t stay hard. I wasn’t in control. I needed to be in control but Mommy, the fucking bitch, wouldn’t let me. I told her what a fucking bitch she was. “Pawking PAWK!”
WAKE UP.
Mistress Mesmera snapped her fingers. I was on stage, Mistress Mesmera’s stage, before Mistress Mesmera’s audience. Every member of her audience was laughing at me, just like Mommy. I was naked, on my knees, holding my limp little pecker in my right hand, and in my left hand I had one of my shoes, pressed against my ear. All this time I had been on stage, still at the hypnosis show. I had never gone home. I hadn’t called the phone sex service; I had been talking into my shoe. I had only been imagining Mommy’s, I mean Melody’s, voice. But Mistress Mesmera’s voice, and her commands, had been real. A powerful woman had taken control of me, had humiliated me in front of her audience. I was naked, on my knees, staring out at the laughing audience, holding a shoe in one hand, and in the other hand, my little cock was getting hard, growing to its full four inches.
DROP THE SHOE.
“Yes, Mistress.” I let the shoe fall from my hand. Plunk.
LOOK AT JODY.
“Yes, Mistress.” Jody was laughing, too, of course—maybe even louder than the others. She looked beautiful, with her blonde hair, in her blue tank-top, showing plenty of cleavage. Her tits were almost as nice as Mommy’s, or Mistress Mesmera’s. And I loved hearing her laugh. I now realized there was nothing sexier than hearing a woman laugh. Best of all was hearing a woman laugh at me. Being on my knees and naked before a beautiful, laughing woman. I wanted to cluck like a chicken some more, just to make Jody laugh harder, but I needed a command from Mistress Mesmera for that. I needed to wait silently for Mistress Mesmera’s next command.
And when Mistress spoke again, her voice was soft again, just like it had been at first. “Look up at your Mistress, little man.”
“Yes, Mistress.” She was even more beautiful than Jody. Maybe even more beautiful than Mommy.
“Tell me, who is the most important woman in your life right now?”
“You are, Mistress.”
“Who has always been the most important woman in your life?”
“You, Mistress.”
“Who has always been the only woman in your life?”
“You, Mistress.”
“I am the only woman in your life. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Tell your Mistress that She is the only woman in your life.”
“You are the only woman in my life, Mistress.”
“You have forgotten all other women. There is only one woman. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Of course it is. Tell your Mistress that She is the only woman in your life.”
“You are the only woman in my life, Mistress.”
“There have never been any other women. Only Mistress.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Repeat after me: there have never been any other women. Only Mistress.”
“Yes, Mistress. There have never been any other women. Only Mistress.”
“Very good, my little man. You like being my little man, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Now look at the audience. There is someone in the audience I want you to see. There is a woman with blonde hair, with large breasts, wearing a blue tank-top. Do you see her?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No, Mistress.”
“Have you ever seen her before?”
“No, Mistress.”
“Very good. Look up at Mistress, again.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You’d rather look at Mistress, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“All you need to know is that I am your Mistress and I have always been your Mistress. You have forgotten everything else. You have even forgotten your name. Do you know your name?”
“No, Mistress.”
“That’s because you don’t have a name. I have not given it to you yet. Would you like to know what your name is?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Stroke your cock for me. Make it really hard.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Yes. That’s right. I want you naked, on your knees, looking up at your beautiful and powerful Mistress, and stroking your little wee-wee. You like stroking your little wee-wee for me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Tell me what you are doing.”
“I am stroking my little wee-wee for You, Mistress.”
“That’s right. I am going to tell you your name. It is a name I have chosen for you. From now on you will only answer to the name I have chosen for you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Very good. You want to know your name, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You want to hear me say your name, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want to hear you say my name, Mistress.”
“Very good. You will be very happy when I say your name. You will be so happy that the little wee-wee you are stroking will get really really hard and will shoot a big load for Mistress. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You would like your little wee-wee to get really really hard and shoot a big load for Mistress. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Tell your Mistress what you want.”
“I want my little wee-wee to get really really hard and shoot a big load for You, Mistress.”
“You want me to say your name so that your really really hard little wee-wee can shoot its big load for me. You want me to say your name. When you hear your name, your wee-wee will shoot hard. It’s getting harder and harder, waiting for Mistress to say your name. It will feel so good when you hear your name. So good that you will shoot that big load for Mistress. Won’t that feel good?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Stroking your little wee-wee and waiting for Mistress to say your name. Waiting for Mistress to say your name so you can shoot hard. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Are you ready to hear your name?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Are you ready to shoot hard?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Then here is the name. The name Mistress has chosen for you. The name that will make you feel good. The name that will make you feel so good you will shoot. You want to shoot hard for your Mistress. You want it so much. Are you ready for your name?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Louder.”
“Yes, Mistress!”
“LOUDER!”
“YES, MISTRESS!”
“SAY IT AGAIN!”
“YES, MISTRESS!”
“Good. You have been very good. And now I will tell you your name, and then you can shoot. Your name is...”