So here I was, an otherwise normal guy with an otherwise normal fiancée, except for the minor fact that she’d given me her hypno-fetish, and I’d run with it. Susie was my honest-to-goodness hypno-slave at the turn of a word and look of an eye. We’d managed to fill her fantasy and create one of mine. The strange thing about her being hypnotized is that it makes her hotter than hell in bed after she’s awake. The first and last time I tried having her under in the bedroom was disappointing, to say the least. Susie went way, way deep when I sent her; so deep that her normal sexual response was muted, and I would have to play out the scene verbally for her body to work. It’s not easy to keep your sexual impetus going when you have to describe everything in detail before you do it. It just wasn’t fun.
“Susie, look at me.” That would start it. She’d always look into my eyes, knowing what was coming and asking for it. “Susan, hypnotic eye beams.” Sometimes I’d say a few more things before getting to the point, but it would invariably end with her collapsing onto the sofa, the bed, or the floor, if I wasn’t careful. I didn’t want her to get hurt; after all, she was going to be my wife. I told myself that I wanted to use hypnosis as a tool to draw her out of her quiet little sexual box. Susie was great in bed, enthusiastic, but as I had mentioned before, not terribly adventurous. She had never given me head. I liked giving her head, but I liked getting it, too. She was my slave, but if I had to direct her every lick and suck and stroke, I might as well have done it myself.
I wanted her to give me head on her own. Assuming that I could make her give me head, what was the best way to proceed? I supposed that I could make her think it was a cherry popsicle or something each time, but that wouldn’t be—honest. It would also make the experience a little less than natural. Besides, cherry popsicles don’t squirt white stuff at you, and I didn’t want to find out what would happen when hypnotic reality met the true one, and Susan would have a very serious conflict in her mind. I had the luxury of time, though. Susie and I were going to be together for a very long time, so I could be slow about it. I came up with a strange plan, hoping that my convoluted logic would yield the desired result.
“Susan, hypnotic eye beams,” I announced one Saturday afternoon in her apartment. She melted onto the sofa. “When I count to three, you will open your eyes, remaining deeply asleep, and you will bring your cigarettes and the holder into the bedroom. When you are in the bedroom, you will sit on the bed and ask me for your next command when I come in, do you understand?”
“Yes, master,” she said robotically. Her eyes opened, dull and lifeless. I watched her pick up her cigarettes and head into the bedroom. I was half-hard already, but waited about a minute after she had disappeared before going there myself. “I am ready to obey your command, master.” Somewhere, Susie had conjured up a bunch of hypnotic obedience phrases; it was something she did from the depths of her trance without prompting, but I’m sure on some level she knows how hot it makes me.
“In your mind’s eye, I want you to conjure an image, one that may come from a book, a movie, or television show, or even something that you saw in person. The image is of a sexy woman, smoking. This sexy woman is using a holder, and it makes her all the more desirable.” Susan shifted a little, her legs getting restless. “I want you to bring the image in your mind to life for your hypnotic master. You will pay attention to how excited he becomes, what happens to his penis, and it will record like a tape in your mind, a memory that only your master can bring forward. When I count to three, you will begin.” This was something for me to watch as I masturbated.
What was I doing masturbating when I could have had Susie in the flesh? When I came, I smeared it all over my groin. “Susie, close your eyes and relax.” She did. I moved Susie’s face down there. “Breathe deeply through your nose, smell this scent. This is the scent of your fiancé, Susie. You know where it comes from and you will find yourself becoming more and more curious about the scent, and the taste associated with that scent. Now listen carefully, for this is what you are to do. Since it is the scent and the taste of the great love of your life, you know that it must taste wonderful. You will have no doubt that the taste is wonderful and arousing. The curiosity about the exact taste will continue to grow, until one day, you will find yourself in a position to find out, and all your hesitation and fear and doubt about it will be washed away by the curiosity and you will find that the taste is as wonderful as your fiancé and more wonderful than you could have ever dreamed. You will like the taste so much that you will forget all your beliefs about tasting and licking and sucking my penis, because it tastes so good, smells so intoxicating, and it feels so nice in your mouth. You will also realize that it arouses you because it excites me. Whenever you excite me, you will always feel an echo of arousal in your mind and body. It will allow you to rely more and more on your new sexual experiences instead of old beliefs. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master... I... understand... and obey,” she whispered.
“The seed of curiosity will grow and lead you to overcome your imagined distaste. The reluctance you feel for putting your mouth on my cock is all in your head, and the curiosity will push it out, sending it away forever. This is not a post-hypnotic command to be followed mindlessly. Once your curiosity has been satisfied, and the sensual experience has washed away all your doubts and resistance to this, you will endeavor to learn more about oral sex, and anything new you find, you will again become curious about. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master.” I may as well have been writing detailed instructions for the neurons firing in her brain. Anything I said at all, anything, she would take to heart, bless her little mindless slave self. I told her to forget about the smoking in the bedroom, the teaching, and the fact that she had been hypnotized at all. I explained the gap in time by saying that we were bored and had taken a nap together. The only thing she had to show for her afternoon hypnosis was the seed of curiosity I’d planted.
Susie and I decided to go out that night. I was horrible company, though, because while she had had a nap, I hadn’t, and I’d come, so I was fading fast. She kissed me wet and deep after we got back, saying that she understood, and she’d—wait. The next morning, I woke up to the sight of her feet. “What’cha doin’?”
“OH!!!” Clearly startled, I thought. “Nothing.” She rearranged herself to face me, and we necked for a while. Her hand began to stroke my cock, making me harder than I already was from the necking. She rearranged herself again. “I slept kinda funky last night, Terry. I think I was horny,” she sang. My lips, tongue, and hand went to work, and my fiancée-to-be started to writhe and sigh deeply. I know what she likes, awake or hypnotically asleep. She began to moan loudly, but I felt her face on my pubic hair. It tickled, so I stopped.
“What are you doing?” I half-giggled, half-asked.
“Ummm… I’m sure you think this is real weird, but I’m sort of… enjoying your scent. I’ve never really noticed before. But it makes me think of you.”
“I smell like a guy.”
“No, you smell like you,” she said, her rising passion temporarily stilled. “I’m serious.” She shifted to face me again, then kissed me. “But I’m also horny. Sir? If you please?”
“As you wish,” I replied with a smile that had multiple reasons behind it. I went back to work, or more accurately, play. As Susie’s hips began to thrust and her moans became cries, I moved to position myself, as I had done many times before, and she grabbed my hips, communicating the urgency of her desire. I gently sank into her, causing her body to shudder inside and out. Her eyes rolled loosely around their sockets as she came a second time. I can’t last very long in the morning; I don’t know why, but every time Susie and I have “good morning” sex, we usually finish in less than ten minutes, because she feels extremely good in the early a.m. This was no exception, although her aftershocks continued for a good little while. “You feel so good, baby,” I panted.
Her eyes were fluttering, and she smiled, and then said, “Zap me.” I said the magic words. As soon as she was under, I asked her why she wanted to be hypnotized just then. “Because I want to be your slave today. Command me to fix you breakfast in bed. Then I want to be hypnotized into sex.” Her wish was my command, and both of us went to work the next day with stiff legs. I also had a sore back; it was sore enough that I made Susie ride me for the last round of intercourse, which she enthusiastically did. I couldn’t tell if she was hypnotized or not by the way she moved and screamed. I’ve never tampered with Susie’s sexual response. Her sexual desires and actions, sure. Response, never.
While I left it to Susie’s curiosity to get her to give me head, there were a few other things about creating the perfect fiancée that required hands-on programming. It took a while for me to plot this carefully. My smoking fetish was much more involved than just a cigarette holder from time to time, and I wanted Susie to be the sexy smoker I’d always lusted after. I could make it come true, and she wanted me to make it happen. She’d given me control, and that assuaged my conscience—whenever it decided to make a peeping noise.
As usual, I waited for the weekend to do this. I had to stuff my libido away; I couldn’t afford to get caught up in the now; I was attempting some very delicate psychological fine-tuning, and I didn’t want to make any mistakes—the specter of unplanned consequences weighed heavily on my mind. If this succeeded… Carrie was out of town as usual, so we had their place all to ourselves. “What do you want to do tonight?” Susie asked me as we were finishing the dinner dishes. I told her that I hadn’t looked to see what was happening that night, so as soon as we finished, we ought to look in the “Around town” section of the paper. She beat me to the sofa, pulling out the appropriate section. “There’s a movie that I want to see,” she began. “It’s kind of a chick flick, but I’d like you to g—”
“Susan, hypnotic eye beams.” The phrase cut off her thought, her speech, and her consciousness. She slumped onto the sofa. “You are now going to take yourself deeper and deeper into hypnosis. You will take yourself deep enough to learn all that I am about to teach you. I am teaching you how to please me. These are not hypnotic commands to obey, it is going to result in a subtle change in the way you act, and your ultimate motivation is to please me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master. I understand, and I am ready to learn how to please you,” she sighed.
This was it! “Susie, you have a regular brand of cigarettes that you smoke, correct?”
“Yes, master. I smoke Salem Lights 100’s.”
“Starting Monday, you will begin to notice that your cigarettes are not as good as they had been. You will begin to get dissatisfied with the taste, and the feel of it between your fingers. You will begin thinking of smoking something longer. You will begin wondering how you might look with a longer cigarette. Your dissatisfaction with your current brand will increase to the point where you will want to try a different brand. This brand will be longer than Salem Lights 100’s. This brand will become your new favorite. However, once you have chosen this new favorite, it will remain a favorite for no more than two months. After a maximum of six weeks, you will feel the same dissatisfied feeling, and want to change brands. You will begin the process of selecting a new brand all over again. Any new brand you select must be longer than Salem Lights 100’s. You may find yourself switching back to a long brand that had been a favorite; this will be all right. This will continue until I command it to stop. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master. Until you command... stop.”
“The only time you will be aware of this having been hypnotically facilitated is when you change brands. You will realize that your master has commanded you to do this to please him, and it will cause the feelings that it normally causes within you.”
“Yes… master.” She squirmed, maybe in anticipation of her hypnotic thrill.
“You will begin to like the idea of using a cigarette holder. However, you will realize that it is not something that is usually done in public. While you will be less sensitive to your appearance with a cigarette holder, you will not always smoke with one in public or private. However, you will use one occasionally in public if it fits the occasion and your mood, because it is always your decision. You will never have to use a holder in public if you do not choose to. You will also begin to use holders more often in private with me, whenever the mood suits you. Do you remember how cigarette holders affect me, Susie?”
“Yes... master... Excites master,” she purred, smiling from trance. Her face went slack, and she said, “Whenever I excite Master... Feel aroused... horny...”
So I was “Master” now. Unfortunately, I couldn’t dwell on the success of my hypnotic manipulation. I forced myself back to the task at hand. Any mistake, wrong phrasing, omissions or additions could have unplanned, and possibly malevolent, effects. “You will continue to be aware of the effect that smoking with a holder has on me, and that will affect your decision on using one in private. It is always going to be your choice whether to use a holder when we are alone in private, but you will always be aware of the effect that it has on me. You will start looking for different cigarette holders, ones that match your mood, the occasion, your outfit, or any combination of those things. Some of the holders you buy will not fit the brand you have selected. If that is the case, you will learn how to modify your holders so that the cigarettes will fit well. You can figure it out because you are a very smart lady engineer. You may have the same style of holder for different brands that you smoke. Is that clear?”
“Yes, master. I understand.”
“None of these instructions will affect your current cigarette consumption. This will not increase your desire to smoke; it will only alter your existing habit. If you find that you are smoking more, you will be able to control your urges by concentrating and remembering your current level, and you will return to your normal smoking level.”
“Very good, Susie. You will now begin to lighten your trance, remaining hypnotized, remaining asleep and unaware. You will leave your learning trance behind, as all you have to learn has been learned, and those things are now as your own thoughts. All you have to learn has been learned.”
“All I have... to... learn... has been learned,” she echoed.
“These things are now your own thoughts.”
“My... own... thoughts...”
“Only the things I have explicitly told you to remember as being different will be available to your thoughts as being hypnotically implanted, and only when it is time for you to remember.”
“Yes… master… my own… thoughts… Only… remember… hypnotized—when time,” she mumbled.
I’d given her the seeds, and I would see what would blossom in a few weeks. It was critical to my plans that this be as natural an evolution as possible. Part of it was that I didn’t want other people to notice any abrupt changes in her behavior, but a larger part was that I didn’t want to create a mindless slave to be constantly commanded. I wasn’t in love with a mindless slave; I was in love with Susie. A slightly modified Susie would be perfect, but a hypnotically blank Susie would be a tragedy. I woke her up without bothering to implant a false memory.
“What did you do to me?” she coyly asked, smiling. “I know I’ve been hypnotized, but I can’t remember a thing.” She stroked my ear lobe. “Am I going to do a strip tease and jump you any second?” she purred.
“That would not take hypnosis,” I breathed.
“The strip tease would,” she shot back. She looked at my crotch, and ran her hand over the growing bulge. The second part didn’t take any hypnotic coercion.
She showed no signs of any residual effects from my tampering over the course of the week. She didn’t use a holder once, nor did she smoke a different brand. I was a little worried that somehow I’d failed to drill it into her, but since time was on my side, and I needed the appearance of a natural change, I could wait. My plotting paid its first dividend almost two weeks later. Susie and I were making out on the couch in my apartment after having gone dancing. We were slowly undressing each other, and she was beginning to squirm. “Let’s—let’s go into the bedroom,” she managed to gasp as I fixed my lips on a nipple. Almost immediately, we picked up where we had left off, on the bed instead of the sofa. She began to push at my head. “Kiss me… kiss me… down there…” I started to kiss my way to her delta, while Susie started playing with my cock. This was something she’d started to do more often this past week and I had gotten used to the feel of her soft hand on it.
I tenderly parted her outer lips with my fingers as her scent and humidity rose to meet me. I began to lap gently, drawing a moan from her. “Uhhhnnnn,” she said, hips undulating a little, and her grip on my cock became a little tighter, the slow, gentle strokes of her balled fist a little more urgent. It felt nice. I began to work on her in earnest, playing her the way she liked to be played. Her hips began to move more and more, her sighs turned into moans of increasing heat. Her orgasm arrived without warning. One second she was gasping, “ohhh… ohhh… ohhh,” then suddenly, “Awwww-ohhhhhhh!” Susie’s hips bucked violently and she turned sideways, throwing me onto my left side, her onto her right. The sensation of cooling air greeted my cock as her hand released it momentarily, recapturing it as I paused to catch my breath.
Then I lost my breath immediately when something soft and wet touched the tip of my cock. That was followed by warm wetness enveloping half of it. I looked down in shock to see Susie bobbing her head steadily, and half of my penis doing a disappearing act. She was making “mmmmm” noises, and seemed to be most enthusiastic about it. As soon as the shock wore off, the excitement hit me like a brick, and all I could do was to gasp, “Susie!” I didn’t even get to the “I’m coming” part. Her tongue swirled and swabbed as I shot my load into her mouth. She finally let me go, and I rolled onto my back, literally spent. The covers rustled, and she was facing me, eyes shining in the dark.
“You taste good,” she smiled, sultrily. “Do I taste that good to you? I hope so.” She was excited by the experience, and not necessarily in a sexual sense. I asked her why she had done it, since she’d never really shown any interest. “Well… I’ve been smelling you for a while, when you—well, lick me from up here. I’ve just felt really curious about it lately. I guess I did OK,” she said with a shy smile.
“You did real good, Susie,” I said, then took a nap.
Saturday was shopping day for me, which was a major production involving several stops. When Susie spent the night at my place, she accompanied me. “You are such an unusual male,” she commented as I tested the melons at the local outdoor market. “You cook so well, which is good, because I’m not that good at it.”
I told her she gave me too much credit. “I’m very male,” I whispered, giving her a kiss. “You, of all people, should know.” She blushed. As I loaded the meat from the butcher shop, she asked if I would stop at the tobacco store down the road. No problem, it was on the way home. She spent a few minutes in there, but I didn’t ask what was going on. I had a very good idea.
That night, I cooked dinner alone in my apartment, trying not to figure out the exact effect that my hypnotic alterations would take. Susie would be arriving soon enough. I had the food ready when she arrived, so we proceeded directly to dinner, making small talk. Susie told me about Carrie’s promotion—she’d be spending even more time on the road because of it. “What’s she going to do when we get married?” I asked. We had discussed moving in together before, but because of her parents, that was not possible. Of course, they had no idea that their daughter’s virginity was a faint memory, and that she was her fiancé’s hypnotic slave and frequent sex partner, but that was much easier to hide than an identical address.
“I don’t know. Maybe she’ll ask us to rent her a room,” Susie replied. “By the way, Terry, if she asks—the answer is no.” We both laughed. After cleaning up dinner, we moved into the living room. I had to work at not seeming too interested in what pack of cigarettes she would pull out of her purse. Susie seemed hesitant to smoke, choosing instead to talk about the things she had to do this upcoming week. I waited her out, trying not to go nuts. Finally, she pulled out a slim green pack and removed a long brown cigarette. She lit it, still seeming a little nervous. The room went silent. She was obviously waiting for me to comment.
“You changed brands,” I said, carefully keeping my voice neutral.
“Oh! Yeah, I did,” she said, sounding surprised that I’d noticed. The worry in her eyes gave her away. “I wanted something… different. Something a little longer.” She studied the More between her fingers. “I saw these, and just picked them because—well, my supervisor smokes them, so they were the first longer cigarette that came to mind. Does it bother you?”
“No. Why would it?”
She took a drag and exhaled. “They’re a little stronger than my last brand.” She went quiet for a moment, contemplating her cigarette. “Do you think I look weird smoking this? I mean, it’s brown. Kinda like a cigar.” Her insecurity about her appearance, which I had spent a lot of time dealing with before I discovered Susie’s hypno-fetish, was making a rare return visit. She dragged on the More again.
“Actually, I think you look damned sexy with it,” I truthfully said.
“Really??!!” she exclaimed, blowing out her exhale in a big hurry. I nodded enthusiastically. Susie crushed out the More and looked at me with her eyes fluttering. “Fuck me. Now.” We didn’t make it into the bedroom, foreplay was out of the question, and it was one of our most charged encounters to that point. The experiment appeared to be a success.
That night, as she non-hypnotically slept soundly next to me, I wondered if the suggestions would hold. Thus far, Susie had overcome her staunch resistance to oral sex and changed to a very daring (for her) brown cigarette. The question was, would she revert to her normal self and overcome my hypnotically-induced changes? It’s always said that you can’t make a person do something that he or she does not want to do with hypnosis. Did these changes prove that she really wanted to do what I told her, or was it the combined weight of her hypno-fetish and desire to please me that had induced these changes, and would it all fade over time? I fell asleep, not very restfully, as my conscience awakened from its slumber and bugged me, unencumbered by rational thought.
Susie had a business trip that week. “I’ve got a surprise for you after I get back,” Susie sang over the phone from Boston. “I’m really excited about it, and I hope you will be, too. I wish my job would spring for me to come back on Friday after the meeting, but they’re saving a fortune in airfare. It’s hell being Little Miss Super-engineer.” I assured her that I understood, and told her that I’d pick her up when she got back on Sunday.
Early Sunday afternoon, I greeted her at the baggage pick-up. “So what’s my surprise?” I asked with my most charming grin.
If you weren’t so damn cute, I’d kill you,” she smiled, giving me a peck on the cheek. “You’ll see—if you fix me one of your special five-star dinners tonight. With wine and dessert, no negotiation.” Now I was really curious. It was difficult to avoid hypnotizing her into spilling the beans, but I managed. It didn’t hurt that my conscience had given me a thorough pounding during the week. “You can surprise me with some magnificent culinary creation.” She grinned. “I’m tired of lobster, darling. I’m in the mood for something—common,” she said, sounding like a spoiled trophy wife. “But not too common,” she snapped. “Serve me hot dogs or hamburgers and you’re cut off for a month, mister.”
“Gee, I missed you too.” Our banter continued until I dropped her off at her place. “Dinner at seven—sharp. Dress for it,” I warned, “or you’ll be cut off for a month.” She grabbed my head and gave me a powerful kiss at her door.
“Are you sure about that cutting off part?” she impishly smiled as I staggered back to the car.
Five hours and a significant deal of running around to put a special dinner together later, she showed up at my door. “Carrie’s home for the week,” she announced, handing me a bag.
“You’re early, and you’re not dressed for the occasion,” I complained.
“What do you think the bag is for? I’m going to change because you told me to dress and no peeking.” And she vanished into the bedroom. I could have zapped her, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. This has had significant ramifications—I avoid hypnotizing her in any unpleasant situation because I can’t sleep if I do; my conscience is merciless.
Susie came out about twenty minutes later, dressed in one of her softer business suits. She said, “OK. I’m dressed, I’m hungry. Spoil me. After dinner, you’ll get your surprise.” And people wonder why I love this woman? She didn’t let me take any shortcuts, either. It wasn’t until after I had cleaned up the kitchen (after all three courses and coffee) that she said, “OK, go into the living room and wait for me.” By this point, I was more than curious. It didn’t take long for her to reappear with a More… in a nice moderate-length black holder. “Surprise,” she purred, taking a long, exaggerated drag and exhale. She gave me a very purposeful look, and we almost ran for the bedroom.
Afterwards, she put another More in the holder as we lay on the bed, our sweat having cooled. “Ummm… Susie…” I began.
She gently put her hand on my chest. “Oh, I know what this does to you. And I’ll be ready for it,” she throatily whispered. “I’ve been gone for almost a week.” She made it halfway through her cigarette before I pounced. After that, I staggered out of the bedroom for water, returning to the sight of her sitting up against the headboard, her legs under the covers, having another after-sex cigarette… in the holder. She took a puff as she lazily reached for my cock, blew smoke over it, and then took me in her mouth. “I thought you might need a little extra coaxing this time.” Neither of us went to work the next day.
She’d taken the hypnotic suggestions I’d given her and incorporated them into her being, as I had intended. The finished product was irresistible, sexually, mentally and physically. I could never remember being so constantly turned on in my life. I knew what I had to do now. I asked if she’d like to go to dinner on Saturday at our favorite little place. The food was good and the atmosphere was eclectic; people were dressed up, people were dressed down, people were barely-dressed. It was our favorite place because we could just go there no matter how formal we were feeling.
When Susie showed up, she was well dressed. “It fits my mood tonight,” was all she said. I changed clothes, telling her that I liked to look like I belonged with her. That got me a smooch full of affection, not lust. When we got to the restaurant, she pulled out a gold cigarette holder. “I found it on EBay last week, and just got it ready for tonight. Do you like it? It’s solid 14K gold, and I thought I needed something a little more… formal.”
“Oh, wow, Susie. It makes you look so… so…” Words failed me, so I just kissed her hand. Occasionally, the people passing our booth would do a double take as Susie smoked her Mores in the gold holder, although our Goth-looking waitress thought it was cool. I was in awe of my girlfriend—the sexual connotation of it all didn’t exist right then. I felt that I was dining with a rich heiress in some sort of dream.
When the coffee arrived, she was fitting another More into the holder, giving me come-hither looks. Susie went to pour her cream, and… nothing came out. “What the—?” She shook the pitcher and a dull thud answered. Susie opened the lid and gasped in shock. As she removed the jewel box, I asked the question that was a foregone conclusion since the night of that blow-off steam party senior year. “Oh my god… yes, Terry. Yes. In a heartbeat,” she cried, kissing me frantically. We were now officially engaged. There was no hypnotism, no additional smoky posturing that night in my apartment. Nothing other than Susie and me.