Yogabot
Part 1
I guess it started with the simple text from Mark:
“Hey J, you left your jacket at the bar. I have it. OK if I just drop it off sometime?”
I told him “sure. I’m home after 6 for the rest of the week to get some stuff done anyway”.
Mark was a college friend and fellow suffer-mate from chemistry. He was in my study groups on and off throughout my time there. I’d always had a bit of a crush on him—what with him being one of those tall, slim, dark and handsome types. But we were always dating other people so we just quietly dropped into the friend zone and never left.
After collage, we went our separate ways until he texted me that he took a new job in my city and wanted to hook up with some of the old gang. It turns out that there were a few people in the area that I had lost touch with. It seemed he hadn’t.
So, we met a few times at a local bar for a few drinks and some conversation with everyone catching up on everyone else.
I was one of the first to leave, but noticed when I got home that I had left my jacket. By then, all the friends had gone and I had given it up for loss, when my knight in shining cloth/polyester mix texted me.
Monday past. Then Tuesday. So I assumed he either forgot or would just give it to me when we connected with the group next time.
Wednesday after work, I changed into some shorts and a lose t-shirt and had some salad and wine at my kitchen island with my laptop propped up. I was munching on some carrots when the doorbell rang.
When I opened the door, he was on his knees, examining something in the hallway floor. It took me a minute to even realize he was there.
“Oh hi K. " he said as he stood up. He had the cutest “you caught me” smile that showed his adorable dimples.
“Ummm hi Mark.. everything... ok?”
“yeah... hey, is that wood hardwood?” he said pointing to the floor? " Or is it some kind of laminate that just looks like wood?”
“Ummm... I don’t know... laminate, I guess? I can’t imagine they would put real hardwood in an apartment hallway where everyone walks.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Looks good though. ”
“Did you suddenly get an obsession with flooring?”
“Hmmm? Oh, no,” he chuckled, “it’s more like a fetish. You could say I get wood from wood.”
I stared at him until he started laughing.
“Sorry K,” he said between laughs, “bad joke.”
I laughed too at the silliness of it. I’m sure I rolled my eyes at the bad pun.
“No, K, I just need a place to live. I got a temporary space—month-by-month, short term place—just so I could move here for my job. I thought that once I got settled I’d find a nicer place. So I am checking you out... I mean, checking out your apartment.”
I wasn’t sure if the “checking you out” comment was a mis-statement or an attempt to flirt. I was ok with it either way.
“Hey, are those 8 foot cielings?” He asked, looking over my shoulder.
“Ummm.. 9, I think... do you want to come in? So you can check me out? My apartment, I mean?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He handed me my jacket and came in, looking around at the ceilings, windows and the kitchen.
“I love the island, and the kitchen.”
“Oh you used to cook, didn’t you? You were pretty good as I recall.”
He smiled and looked bashful as he replied. “yeah, thanks.”
Well you are welcome to bring food over anytime you like.
“Actually, I’d like that. It’s more fun to have people to cook for. So you use the island with your laptop too, is there an outlet?”
“yes, around the side.”
“OK, so you can do your work ... or.. um.. hypnosis files? um.. while you are... um eating?”
I am sure I blushed. I was looking at some relaxation and hypnosis files when he rang the bell. I had totally forgotten to close the laptop. I looked away, but then did my best to sound casual.
“Ummm.. yeah.... um... sometimes.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in hypnosis, K.”
“Ummm, not.. well, a little. Well, OK. I kinda blew out my knee.” I motioned to the kineseo tape and athletic wrap an my right leg.
“Oh.. ouch? ACL?”
“Yeah... ”
“You were a pole vaulter, right? I remember going to some of your meets.”
“Yeah, and 800 meter.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, I don’t vault much anymore. So I was trying to switch to cross country running to stay in shape. And the ground is uneven. And...”
“I get it. That must’ve hurt like hell.”
“You have no idea. Actually, the PT was the worst. I swear, I couldn’t walk across the room without crying from the pain. You have no idea.”
“Oh yeah. Remember I used to be on the tennis team and I quit? Torn biceps tendon. I couldn’t even lift my arm without sobbing like a 2 year old for a while. So you are looking for pain management through hypnosis?”
“No. I can’t run anymore. I can’t vault. So I thought I’d try yoga. But, I just can’t get into it. I mean, OK, let’s just say it. It’s BORING! Warrior pose to downward dog to sun salutations.. yawn.
“So, I went to this free yoga thing at the park, thinking, ok, I will be outside, lots of people. Anndd...”
“And?”
“Booooor-ing.”
“Ouch”
“I mean, vaulting gives you this 10 second adrenalin rush. It’s like flying. Running gives you this burn. And this runners wind. Yoga? I feel like a robot manakin—Raise your hand, robot. beep.. hand raised... downward dog robot ... beep... downward dog... I mean... geeze. I was looking at the grass. And thinking about dinner. And watching the joggers. And.. nothing.“
“So, did you ever think of something else.. weights or rowing or something?”
I sighed more than I wanted to. “My PT and doctor both recommended yoga. And you know me. I’m not a quitter. I will get this thing.”
“So... the hypnosis?”
“Oh, right. So I talked to the yoga instructor after the class and she said I had a concentration problem... like.. duh. You think? Anyway, she recommended a couple online hypnosis videos to calm me and get me focus.”
“And?”
“I suck at it. ”
He laughed a little.
“No really, Mark. You’d think it would be easy. Listen to the voice and follow a few instructions and zone out. But me? nooooo, I sit here and eat carrots and drink wine after like 30 seconds. They talk in these soft, silky voices and play this lame music and, I don’t know. I never thought I had ADD before. But maybe the athletics were just masking some serious mental issues. Maybe without that focus I’m doomed.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“No, K, there are a lot of crazy people in the world and you are not one of them. It’s just that hypnosis is tricky. Different things work for different people. Erickson’s techniques are great for some, but others respond better to Fromm’s. You just need to find the right pattern to turn you into a robot, like you want to be, so you can do the yoga.”
I can’t explain it. But when he said “turn you into a robot” my pussy clenched. I swear it did. I stared at him for what must have been too long. But I kept having this picture in my head of me, being a robot, at his command, and wondering what he would do with me. I wondered if our friendly flirting would suddenly become raw sexual heat.
“Umm...” I cleverly said as I looked away to compose myself, ‘You.. you seem to know a lot about, you know, hypnosis.” I almost said “you know a lot about turning girls into robots,” but I caught myself.
“Yeah, well, I double majored in psych and marketing. One of the psych electives was on hypnosis. I did my research paper at the end by hypnotizing a bunch of people and documenting the different techniques that worked and didn’t work on each one and what their reactions were.”
“Oh? Ummm.. anyone I know?” Dammit.. why was I finding this topic arousing? I was doing my best not to blush, but sure I was failing. I casually reached over and drank some wine, hoping he would confuse my blushing with a little over-drinking.
“Yeah, Brit and Ryan, actually. And Mel, of course. When we’d started dating, she was having some stress issues. So, we tried to use it to calm her. And it’s worked really well.”
“Oh? does... I mean, do you still ... ummm... hypnotize her?” I kept having this picture in my mind of Melonie, blank and mindless, like a girl in a bad movie, kneeling before her boyfriend while he commanded her to please him. And, I wasn’t sure if I was more angry with myself for dwelling on it, or jealous that it wasn’t me.
“No. Oh, maybe you don’t know? She and I broke up months ago.”
“Oh good.” I said too quickly.
“Hmm?”
“I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. But, um, well, I kind never thought you were right for each other. I mean, I like Mel and all. But, honestly, I never liked the way she treated you. She seemed a bit.. I dunno... needy? Like she thought it was your job to fix all her problems? And I thought you deserved, I dunno, someone more, well... better for you.”
He shrugged and seemed to ponder what I had said. “Yeah, I guess she could be a bit clingy. I didn’t notice it at first, but it did get old. So, we tried the long-distance thing for while. But I moved away for my job. And she moved on to someone else.”
He shrugged again. “Water under the bridge.”
“Well, let me know if you want to, you know, talk about it or anything.”
“Thanks, K.”
“And meanwhile, I suppose I will just try to find different videos, if you really think it can work.”
“Did you try a susceptibility test?”
“A .. what?”
“Well, there are tests you can do to see how well you respond to different forms of hypnosis.”
“No. Do you think I could find one?” I asked, moving to face my laptop again.
I switch quickly into “problem-solving” mode. I can be entirely blocked when I don’t know what to do. But once I know the next step, I jump before even thinking.
“I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve never looked. But we could try one, if you like.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I could give you a quick test. It wouldn’t take long. And I promise it won’t hurt.”
“Umm.. ok.. what do I have to do?”
“Almost nothing. First turn towards me.”
He moved so that, while looking at him, I had my back to the laptop. I swiveled in my stool to follow.
“Now put your hands together like this,” he said as he held his hands in front of him and interlaced his fingers, as if he were praying. I did the same.
“Now, straighten your index fingers, but keep them touching.” He demonstrated, so that his two index fingers pointed to the ceiling together, while the rest of his fingers were interlaced.
“Good,” he said as I imitated him, “keep your palms together. Good. Now focus your eyes on the tips of your index fingers. OK. Good. Now, look through them and past them. Don’t let them out of your line of sight. But without moving your arms or your hands, raise your eyes so that you are looking into my eyes, but with your fingers in the line of sight. ”
It took a minute to adjust, but I raised my eyes until it worked. He was a little higher then me, since he was standing and a little taler than I. I had to focus on looking down to see my fingers, while looking up to see his eyes. It was actually very difficult and put a strain on my eyes. But I managed it.
And when I found his eyes, I remembered how nice they were—a deep, dark shade of brown that never seemed to end.
“Now don’t close your eyes. I know it is adding a strain to look like this and they naturally want to close, but just keep focusing on your finger tips and my eyes at the same time. I know it is hard to do, but do your best. And keep your hands exactly where they are. Don’t move them no matter how much they want to drop. Look at my eyes. No, don’t look away from your fingers. No, don’t raise your hands. Keep looking at my eyes. No don’t close your eyes, I can see how tired they are getting, but keep this up for me for just a little longer.”
I don’t know how long he kept this up. It seemed like too long, but was probably only a few seconds. I wanted to drop my arms, but he told me not to. My eyes struggled to focus on his eyes,where I really wanted to look, but also focus on my fingers, where he wanted me to. My eyelids wanted to close and stop the strain ,but I tried to keep them open. He kept repeating. “They eyes.. .the fingers.. keep them open.. arms up... " over and over.
“Now, K, I’m going to let you close your eyes and drop your arms in a minute.. not yet! When I snap my fingers, your eyes will close and your arms will drop. But you will find that your hands are stuck together. Keep looking at your fingers. My eyes... your hands are becoming more and more stuck together. They are glued together so that they cannot possibly pull apart. Like super glue smeared all over your palms.. keep looking.... your finger tips... my eyes... when I snap my fingers, your arms drop, your eyes close. And when you open them no matter what you do, you will not be able to pull your hands apart. The more you try, the more they will be stuck together until,.. keep looking.. until I touch them. Then they will open like they have been unlocked.... But until then, they are stuck completely, glued, unbreakable... now... " SNAP
When he snapped his fingers, it was like the lights went off. It was like I had been a puppet held up by string and now the string was cut.
My arms crashed into my lap. My eyes snapped shut. My head bowed down until my chin was on my chest.
I had no clue what was happening. And I didn’t even think about it. In fact, I didn’t even think about not thinking. It just happened. Someone cut the string and I was gone.
A few seconds later (I think?) I became aware of my own breathing. I was taking deep breaths without trying. It just seemed natural. They became deeper, but shorter, the way it feels when you wake up in the morning. I could hear the sounds of the apartment again, the air conditioner, the compressor on the fridge.
I blinked my eyes open. It took a few blinks before they stayed there. I felt like I’d just had woken from a nap, but was maybe not completely awake yet.
I smiled a little—the kind of peaceful smile I would have given after waking the morning following a night of sex. But I was still seated on the stool next to my kitchen island.
I raised my hands to stretch slowly, ready to tell Mark how nice I felt, when I realized I could not separate my hands. I hand raised them up to my navel and was going to shift them to raise them over my head, when I realized I could not pull them apart.
I looked down in confusion. I remembered him saying that I wouldn’t be able to separate my hands, but those were just words, right? He didn’t really glue them. He was just talking. So, I should just pull them.... Maybe it I turned them a bit and....
But nothing worked. When I tried to pry them from the right side, my shoulder slid right, but that was all. When I focused on pulling from the left, my shoulders slid to the left. On a whim, I put my wrists on either side of my left knee (the one that wasn’t injured) and tried to pry them apart. I succeeded in just getting a good glut stretch and nothing more. I might as well have been pushing my knee against the kitchen island for all it moved. I stopped when I realized I might actually pull my shoulders out.
I looked at him with confusion. He smiled and seem amused.
“Good.” he said. “You see? You don’t suck. You don’t have ADD. You just needed the right approach.”
“Does that mean you hypnotized me?”
“No. Well, kind of. Hypnosis isn’t magic, it is just a slightly altered mental state. And it’s not like an on or off thing. It’s more like a sliding scale. It’s like when you are driving down a long, boring highway.. or.. or sitting in a really dull chem class listening to professor... what was his name?”
“Krane”
“Yeah... that’s right... ‘Lame Krane” he laughed at the memory of the nickname. “Anyway, you don’t sit in Dr. Krane’s class and instantly zone out. You kinda start to fade.”
“The more he talked.”
“ha. Yeah. Anyway, you never really get to a point where you are faded or not faded. It’s more like a gray scale. And you bounce back and forth. Sometimes, someone asks a question and you zone back in. Then Krane starts to talk about s-orbitals or whatever, and.. you kinda start to lose it.
“Hypnosis is the same thing. It’s an altered state of mind and an altered perception. But it usually isn’t an light switch, exactly. More of a gradual thing. People sometimes rate the experience on a 1 to 10 scale or something. But that’s not exactly right. Still, you get the idea. So, your mental focus and state shifted a little, but it wasn’t like a long, deep hypnotic experience. More like a quick test.”
“So it means...?”
“That you are likely a very good hypnotic subject. I figured you were. Intelligent people with good imaginations are usually good subjects and you have that. And you are an athlete. Which means you have focus. It’s just a matter of finding it. ”
“So, do you think you could make me do yoga?”
“Well, I doubt that I could make you do anything. But based on your reaction, I could maybe help. I doubt it would be a one-and-done kind of thing, though. It’s like a habit. ”
“Yoga or hypnosis?”
“Both. You need to practice to get better. And like any habit, even if you could be made to do it once, it wouldn’t stay with you unless you re-enforced it for a while. Like any habit, I guess. Eventually, it becomes second nature, but it takes a while.”
“So, ummmm.... would you, you know.. do you think you could help me for a while?”
“You mean like hypnotize you?”
“Yes. I mean, you know, make me more um... I dunno, like.... ummm...”
“A yoga robot?”
“Umm... yeah.”
“A yogabot?”
He laughed, and I laughed with him. “Yeah. A yogabot”.
“Well, I don’t know... I suppose if not a yogabot, then maybe at least work on your focus and motivation about it. Kind of get you into a better mental state for it. Let me think about how to do that, if you like.”
“Oh yes. I’d love it. I need help.”
“OK. Let me think about how to approach it.”
“OK. We can start tomorrow then?”
“Oh..ummm you don’t waste any time, do you, K?”
I grinned and shrugged; “you know me. The bar won’t vault itself.”
He laughed. “OK. Yeah. I can start tomorrow. I’ll come over after work? OK. I can try a couple techniques and see what works best anyway. It make take a couple sessions to find a good approach.”
An awkward silence followed. I slid off the stool and stood next to him, looking up.
“Well... " he said, turning, “I suppose I will see you tomorrow.”
I smiled and walked to the door. He followed.
When we got to the door, I turned and faced him. I don’t know what I was waiting for. All I could think of was how I wanted to kiss him. But, even though he and Mel were no longer together, we were friends, not lovers. And, for all I knew, he had already found someone else. He was tall, handsome, smart, funny; I expected he had his choice of girls lined up at his place. So I just stood there, awkwardly.
And I noticed something else that I was trying to process. There was a distinct wetness between my legs. Hell, I was so turned on I couldn’t focus, which was the real reason for my awkwardness. I chalked it up to my having an old crush on him and his now being available at the same time I was.
He just kept looking at me. And then pointed down at my crotch. I thought “OH my GOD, he can see how wet I AM!!” but when I followed his gaze, I realized he was pointing at my hands, still clenched together.
“Oh,” was all I said.
“Still, locked?”
I pulled at them. They didn’t budge. If possible. they even separated less than before. I looked up at him with a confused smile os surrender and shrugged. He chucked.
He reached out and touched my hands. And two things happened. I trembled. And the hands separated.
I swallowed hard—because of the trembling, not the separation. I had known him for years. And now, he had me completely flustered. I suddenly turned into a 12 year old girl with a crush on her teacher. I knew it wasn’t right. But I couldn’t help it. His touch was so powerful and perfect.
“Thanks.” I muttered weakly, trying to find my voice.
“Anytime.” He opened the door and started to leave.
“Mark,” I said gently, He turned. I touched his arm. “Really, thanks. For... you know, understanding.”
“Anytime, K. Actually, more specifically, tomorrow.”
He smiled a beautiful smile. And left.
And I stood there wishing he would have left my hands bound. Somehow, that would have been hot. I thought how it would have made me dependent on him. I could see myself trying to call in sick tomorrow, struggling to dial without my hands separating, waiting helplessly to beg him to release them. Maybe he would make me earn my release somehow, maybe by doing something that pleased him. Oh.... ohhhhhh that .... just made me more wet.
I was flushed as I stumbled back to the kitchen and gulped the last of my wine. I looked back at my hypnosis for concentration video and tried to put my hands together the same way Mark had me do it and look at the screen while looking at my fingers, but it didn’t feel the same. And having my hands together, imagining that I could no longer separate them, that just make me hornier.
I gave up the video and the wine and the laptop and went to the bedroom. I flopped on the bed and gave into it all, linking my hands together as they had been, pretending I was still controlled, while rubbing my fingers against my shorts like a cheap stripper.
I pushed my knees together and pretended that he had bound them there, just like my hands. Rubbing my thighs together made it impossible for me to use my hands, but still gave some stimulation. Instead, I pulled my hands apart and ripped off my t-shirt and bra.
Clasping my hands back together, I was able to trap my nipples between my index fingers and pinch them—sometimes a little too roughly—while I squeezed my thighs and rotated my hips like a slut on display. But I didn’t care. I could feel the orgasm building and I wanted it. I felt so slutty, and so humiliated, and so vulnerable, and so, so very horny!
I couldn’t cum like this. The stimulation was enough to keep ramping up the arousal, but not enough to push me over the edge. But the need was getting so strong, I couldn’t think.
Finally, I quickly slid off my shorts and panties and threw them across the room, shoving my now-freed fingers into my pussy with all the abandon of a porn star.
I was soaking wet. Two fingers of my right hand burred themselves to the second knuckle before I knew it and my whole body clenched in response. My left hand went back to my nipples and twisted hard. I was not normally into pain, but tonight was different. It wasn’t about gentle touching, it was about animal lust. And I just wanted to feel—plain, pleasure. anything. I wanted to turn off the higher parts of my mind and just be a toy, a thing, a lust-bot... HIS lust bot.
I don’t know why I did it. Or what made me think of it. But as that thought stole me away, I slid off the bed and onto the floor. It was automatic. I knelt there and imagined I was looking up into his eyes... those amazing, infinite eyes.
The orgasm grew in me like a volcano, slowly building to explode. I felt it in my stomach, rather than my pussy. And it moved up into my chest, my breath was hard to catch now. It came in short, shutting movements. I trembled.
Then... like fire... it hit.
My whole body convulsed with waves of complete pleasure. I gulped for breath, but as soon as I was able to breathe, it would hit again. My pussy was spamming so hard on my fingers, that they hurt. My knees kept knocking together. My hips thrust back and forth like a vibrator.
These waves of pleasure seemed to be non-stop. I thought I would pass out, and didn’t care.
Then, they started to slow. And in between, I fought to get my breath. I knew I could occasionally have multiple orgasm, but this was far more intense than anything I’d ever had before. And then something happened that rarely ever happened before.
I started to cry.
I sat on the floor, naked, and balled.
But it was not exactly a sad cry. It was just overwhelming emotion. When it passed, I had a feeling of relief and something close to peace.
I didn’t even shower, although I knew I was bathed in sweat. I slid back up on my bed, slid under the covers, and fell asleep thinking about being taken completely, looking into his eyes.