Hypnosis Isn't Real - Is It?

"You liked how I took control of you and used you for my pleasure, even though it hurt?"

"Yes," she answered, and I smiled and repeated what I'd asked half a minute ago:

"A little or a lot?"

"A lot," was the answer, just as I had hoped.

"Great. That's great," I smiled. I stored this whole conversation away, only too eager to see how it would all fit into my grand scheme but for now I turned my attention to the matters at hand.

"Elisha, how do you feel about me making a recording to help you excercise?" I asked

"I feel fine about it," she replied.

"And you will do this because you trust me and trust that I will help you?"

"Yes," she answered.

"And you will listen to it every night?" I continued.

"If... if that's what you tell me to," she replied.

"Okay, good. Good," I said and looked at her. She was wearing her boring, white nightgown and she'd washed off the make-up. The Sex-Goddess was gone and the Housewife was back.

"Elisha... how did it feel to dress up for me?" I wondered. Jeez, I asked so much about her feelings, one would think I was her shrink.

"I felt... a little silly. But also sexy. And I really liked your reaction," she explained after a brief moment. Kinda what I expected. I briefly considered backing off but...

"Elisha, I want you to forget about feeling silly. You weren't silly. You were wonderful. You were sexy. You loved my reaction. You loved how you turned me on..." I continued like that for a little while. However, I didn't want her to start dressing like a slut. Did I?

No, that was for our alone-time. Still, I wanted her to wear more flattering clothes. She's a good-looking woman and I wanted her to dress... better. I had to think about this. For now, I'd try to remove her inhibition about dressing up when it was just the two of us...

Thinking about what we'd done and what we'd do, I felt my desire rising but... well, awake Elisha was turning into a much sexier playmate than under Elisha. I wanted awake Elisha, and it seemed I had the key to get her. So, much to my dick's disappointment, I decided to put her to sleep.

"Elisha, you've done good today. So good. You're very pleased with yourself. Dressing yourself up for me and pleasing me like you did was precisely the right way to pay me back. It feels good that you did it. You want to please me. You want to pay me back for how I help you. You need to please me. You need to pay me back. It feels good to please me. It feels good to pay me back..." I continued like this for a good while before reminding her to trust me and that she wanted to listen to my recording... and of course not to remember anything we'd talked about but to sleep all night.

As she went off to bed, I couldn't help but marvel at how my life was improving. Great sex, a happy wife and a feeling of power and control that was oh, so seductive.

Life was good.

---

The next morning was yet another reminder of why I did this. Elisha was in such a good mood that what little bad conscience I had quickly vanished as she made me coffee and breakfast - French toast.

As we finished eating, she went and picked something up from the sideboard and offhandedly gave it to me.

"My eh... my ipod," she muttered, "for, you know, your... hypnosis."

"Oh, hey, yeah," I exclaimed as if just remembering that I had promised to make her a recording and hadn't been thinking about it all morning, "so, I just press record and speak into the mic?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "I've already opened the program, so it's just the big red one."

"Okay. Well, I'll need to look in my books as well, so how about I do this and when I'm done, we'll listen to it?" I asked.

"Okay, yeah."

---

After all, it wasn't as difficult as I had feared. I consulted my books briefly but I already knew mostly what needed to be done - and then I spoke into the microphone for 30 minutes straight. Quite boring and rather thirsty work, actually, but I didn't sufficiently trust the technology to overlap or something the recording. Because, yeah, at lot of it was me saying the same words and sentences again and again.

When I was done I found Elisha, and we listen to it together. To me, it was rather basic - the first five minutes were me telling her to relax, go to sleep and listen, then I moved on to telling her to trust me and finally I gave her a desire to get exercise. To use the bike at least once a day. That she would feel great afterwards.

"You sure spend a lot of time telling me to trust you," she said, "almost makes you sound... untrustworthy." Even though that last part came out with a little laugh, I could hear the unease behind the words. Was this the first, little rebellion against my hypnotic control?

"Well, yeah," I smiled disarmingly, "your subconsciousness kinda needs to trust me if my words are to have an impact."

"But... I already trust you," she shrugged with a smile - but still with that hint of disquiet in her voice, "why do... is it necessary?"

"Well, no," I said, "I guess it's not necessary. But Lauber and Dr. Flenker both say that to push the subconscious mind into trust makes it far less likely for the post-subconscious triggers to take effect. And Loress - who wrote the best-selling hypnosis-book on the market - says that if trust is NOT established in the subconscious-"

She cut off my rant before I was even getting warmed up, "okay, okay!" she held up her palms in surrender, "I do trust you. It just seems... strange that you're, I dunno, programming me to it, you know?"

"Well, I... if that's how you see it then perhaps it's a bad idea altogether. I mean, I was just trying to help..." I said, all wounded that she didn't trust me.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, John, I... I didn't mean it like that. Thank you, I'll listen to it tonight." She smiled at me and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

"You're welcome, dear. I just hope it works."

---

It did. That first night and every night after for the next week, she easily fell asleep to my hypnotic recording and she began spending more and more time down in the basement with her exercise-bike. The first night, I was a little worried that it wouldn't 'take,' that she wouldn't go under but she did. I let her sleep, not willing to risk anything. It turned out to work really well, and she was well-rested and eager to begin her exercise the next day.

So, naturally, the night after, I needed to push the envelope. I sat next to her in the bed, pretending to read, as she started the ipod and listened to my voice take over her mind while I kept a watchful eye on the little machine on her night-table. When it showed the recording had ended, I studied my wife for a little bit, looking for any irregularities that could tell me it was unsafe to disturb her but there were none. Then I carefully removed her ear-plugs and spoke to her.

"Elisha, you are hypnotised. You will listen to my voice and you will obey it," I told her.

"Yes," she answered. Okay, so far so good - it was as if I'd brought her under with my prism. I'd been concerned she'd react differently.

"Suck my cock and swallow my cum," I commanded her.

"Yes," she agreed, and crawled to my crotch. I was only wearing boxers which she quickly pushed aside before letting me slip in between her soft lips.

"Ahh..." I sighed and scooted down a bit, finding a more comfortable position. Then, while she laboured away at my dick, I tried to plan my next move. I'm not gonna lie, she was quite distracting as she dispassionately pleasured me, but we super-villians have extraordinary willpower, and I managed to plan my next move.

"Faster, Elisha," I commanded after a while, as I neared the point-of-no-return, and she obeyed immediately, bobbing her head up and down my shaft faster. Thinking of the evil ways I was gonna control her to make my life better was turning me on immensely.

"Yes... Elisha, I'm gonna..." I croaked as my world exploded in pleasure and I emptied my balls into her mouth. When she felt my cum flood her mouth, she stopped sucking while she struggled to swallow all of it.

"Ah..." I sighed contently, "clean my cock with your mouth." As she did, I worded my next command in my mind. When my dick was clean and back in my boxers, I had her lay down again.

"Elisha, you will not remember what we just did. It's not important to remember..." I gave her the usual speech about forgetting, then moved on to how grateful she was and how she should look for ways to repay me - fairly standard at this point, really - and then: " Do you still have fantasies about being hold down and fucked?" I asked.

"Yes," she readily admitted.

"You want to live out those fantasies. You want me to hold you down during sex. You want to feel helpless during sex. You want me to take control during sex. You need me to take control during sex..." I kept adding 'during sex' because I was NOT ready for her to be completely codependent - if it'd even work. After all, she was a strong woman and her mind would probably reject the idea of her needing to be taken control of... at least for the time being. Although... perhaps farther down the line...

"The next time we have sex, you will ask me to live out those fantasies. You really want this. You need it. You need me to take control of you sexually. You will even plead or beg me, if needed. You need me to take charge of you sexually. The next time we have sex, you will ask me to take control..."

I kept repeating this over and over until I was fairly certain it had taken hold. Then I told her (several times) that she wouldn't remember this either, and we both went to sleep.

---

Let's fast forward to that next night, shall we? Where most Mondays are kinda dull, I was hoping this would different!

Elisha had been kinda nervous but at he same time very loving throughout the day. I got my loving kiss goodbye in the morning and warm hug when I got home from work.

"I've already biked," she told me with a proud smile, "it seems to be working."

"Yeah?" I asked as I let her go, "how're you feeling?"

"Great!" she shrugged with her cute, little smile, "I feel great. I sleep well, now I've even started working out... I have my wonderful husband who helps me... I dunno, I'm just... happy."

"Aww, I'm glad," I smiled back at her with a pang of bad conscience. It would have been great to really be that unselfish guy she'd just described. But the straight and narrow road just doesn't have blowjobs...

We ate and watched some television like millions of other couples before turning in, just having a normal evening, you know?

In bed, I started the age-old routine, kissing her, softly stroking her, and she responded in kind. Soon we were making out with me groping her delicious boobs and my dick quickly rising. One of her hands found its way down there and slowly stroked it. Clearly, she was as much into this as me...

"You remember the other night?" I whispered in her ear, hoping she'd get my drift.

"Maaaaybe," she smiled, teasing and gently squeezed my almost-fully erect dick.

"Please..." I asked.

"You want me to...?" she asked, still smiling.

"Suck it, yeah!" I exclaimed eagerly.

"Well, since you ask so nicely," she winked and gave me a last, quick kiss before slithering down towards my groin. She placed herself between my spread legs where she could look up at me and pursed her red lips against my hardon, giving it a long, loving kiss. Soon after, she opened up and took my dick into her mouth, letting it bathe in her warmth as she started sucking on me.

"Ahhh..." I sighed delighted. Even though I'd gotten A LOT of oral from her lately, it was special when she did it awake. There's just something about her wanting to please me instead of being ordered to, you know?

I looked down at her, her head bobbing up and down my shaft, her pretty, blue eyes meeting mine. They were loaded with sexual desire... and something else. Something I had a good idea about what was, and it turned me on like crazy. Still, I wanted to see how she'd obey my command - if she even would - so I just relaxed and enjoyed her mouth that had gotten pretty experienced over the last weeks.

"Oh, Lis, that feels sooo good," I mumbled as she went further down, trying to deepthroat me - she was really all in on this 'repaying me' deal. Her throat was incredibly tight and she only held me down there for a second before she pulled off to get a mouthful air.

"You like that?" she smiled up at me before taking me in her mouth again.

"Fuck yeah," I nodded.

"Then, eh... maybe you should... make me..." she breathed and took me inside again - though not as deep as before.

"Ehm, you sure?" I wondered, immediately cursing myself for my weakness. For fuck's sake, I'd PROGRAMMED her to want this, and I still asked her if it was okay? Jeez, sometimes I was too nice.

She didn't reply, only looked up, still with my dick in her mouth and grabbed my hands, putting them on my head and using them to press her face downwards, forcing herself to swallow more of my dick.

Okay, I can take a hint. I shook my hands free of hers and found a grip around the back of her head and continued her work of pressing her down on my dick. At the same time, I lifted my pelvis, forcing my dick back into her throat, making her gag in that sexy, porn-like way.

"Fuck, you're sexy!" I grunted as I pulled back a bit and let her slide a bit up before forcing her down again and thrust upwards. And again. And again, fucking her beautiful face. She gagged and drooled but accepted the onslaught without protest.

"Oh, it's goooood!" I gasped. I don't know how long we did this but it was so hot! And I kept doing it a little harder, forcing her further and further down my shaft, until finally, I felt her face against my pelvic bone and I was all the way inside her mouth and throat.

"Yeeeees," I sighed and held her there for a good moment, feeling her throat trying to milk me and her nose pressed into my skin before I let her up. I let her come all the way up this time, and looked down at her, still holding onto her head.

She was a mess. Drool, tears, probably precum and what looked like a little line of snot smeared her face... but her eyes were ablaze. Sheer, undiluted desire shone in her eyes as she looked back at me.

God, I wanted her! I wanted to fuck her face till I fired my cum down her throat and make her swallow it but more than that, I wanted to hear her cry out in pleasure as I ploughed her cunt. Remembering how she wanted to be controlled, I sat up and pushed her down on her back next to me. She meekly followed my guidance, staring up at me with those smouldering eyes. I grabbed her panties and tore them off her, leaving her pussy bare.

To call it wet would be an understatement. It was a river, overflowing its widths, the dam was broken and all was flooding.

Two of my fingers found her opening, rubbing up and down, making sure to touch her engorged clit.

"You like getting your mouth fucked, huh!" I declared as she was gasping in pleasure. Her soft moans were my only answer.

"You're a little slut-wife that needs to be fucked, aren't you?" I demanded. She still didn't answer and I got a little unsure. I didn't know if my taunting her - even humiliating her - was part of her fantasy, and I didn't want to ruin anything. Still, looking at her, with her mouth open and eyes closed, I doubt I could ruin it at this point.

At this point though, I needed this too.

"A slut-wife like you need some cock, and I'm gonna give it to you!" I finally decided and knelt down between her spread legs. My cock leading the way, I sunk into my wet, willing woman.

"Oh!" she gasped, and I wholeheartedly agreed. I reached down and grabbed her wrists, pinning her hands above her head to hold her down, and then I began to fuck her.

And I mean fuck her. I rammed my cock into her, as hard as I could. No warming up, no tenderness. She wanted to get fucked? She was gonna get fucked!

"Fuck!" cried and tried to pull her hands free but I held onto her and hammered into her again and again, taking my wonderful wife as she cried and bucked and came beneath me. Several times as I took her, her eyes seemed to loose focus and she all but screamed.

She felt fantastic! She was so wet but still tight that my dick seemed to be made to go into her.

I wasn't gonna last long. Sensory-overload was threatening, and my orgasm had been building since she placed my hands on her head.

Panting harder and harder, I tried my best to get the most out of the last, wonderful moments, placing my mouth on hers in a hard kiss, forcing my tongue into her mouth - which she eagerly accepted. Driving my cock into her as hard as I could, I groaned loudly into her mouth and fired my load, filling her insides with my sticky jizz.

She felt it and stiffened in one last, mini-orgasm, while I kept going for a little, grinding my shrinking cock in and out of her until I finally collapsed on top of her, letting go of her hands. She embraced me, and we just lay for a while and enjoyed the moment, trying to figure out what the hell had happened.

---

The next morning was weirdly normal. You'd think after some mind-altering sex like that we'd behave differently, right? But that wasn't so. We ate breakfast, discussed our plans for the day, chatted about nothing and everything, kissed each other goodbye and left for work. Like every other Tuesday.

She had told me, the night before (while under hypnosis, of course) that the sex had been "as good as she'd imagined" and "the best orgasms ever" so that was nice to know.

And that became our life. We were happy together. Some nights, we had mindblowing sex, where we gradually pushed her borders further and further (while I always got honest feedback by a hypnotised Elisha afterwards) and other nights she just blew me while 'under' (there were, of course, also times where I got an awoke blowjob, to tank me for all I was doing for her...). She started listening to my recording every night and sometimes even during the day, if she had the spare time. And she got in better and better shape, which she was quite pleased with - and which she contributed to me, which lead to even more gratitude - meaning not just more blowjobs but also... more consideration in the everyday. Like little presents from time to time or taking time to cook my favourite meals or letting me choose the series we watched. Good times, eh?

All in all, it was great. Maybe the best month or so of our marriage. Maybe. Probably.

So I had to fuck it up, didn't I?

It started with her bush. Perhaps I'm porn-damaged but there's nothing as sexy as a completely bald, clean-shaved pussy. Landing-strips are fine, sure, but nothing screams available like a shaved beaver. So yeah, I started to work on her to change that. After all, what good was being the puppet-master if the puppet doesn't behave as I want?

It took some time. I knew she felt quite strongly about this, hence why I hadn't been able to convince her to shave in 12 years. I started by making her wonder how I would prefer it. After inserting that thought into her mind for about a week, she finally asked me.

"Now, dear," I said, as if surprised by her question, "I think your... lady-parts are just fine." I pretended to think that ended the discussion and turned my attention back to 'the Irishman' that was our Netflix-film for the night (I got to choose).

"Yeah, thanks," she said, "but would style do you... prefer." In a normal relationship, these kind of questions can be minefields but of course, I had the upper-hand.

"Weeell," I mumbled, pretending to be uncomfortable by her question, "I must admit... well, I've always thought that there was something extremely sexy about a shaved... you know," I shrugged, helplessly in a 'can't-help-myself' kinda way.