skarletteone:

jukeboxemcsa:

Oh my god. Did he really just say ‘look into my eyes, you are getting sleepy’? He did! He totally thinks he’s some sort of bargain-basement hypnotist! Like I’m really going to just surrender my willpower to some complete stranger who walks up to me in the street and go off with him to his boudoir, or something. What a loser. I hope he doesn’t think I’m scared of him, because I’m just going to stare right back at Mister Mesmer here as long as it takes for him to get the hint that I’m not some kind of hypnotic pushover.

Oh, fuck. Maybe this wasn’t the right move. Now he thinks it’s working. He’s all, ‘you cannot look away, your eyes are caught and held by my gaze.’ No, buddy, I’m just not going to give you the satisfaction of thinking that I’m afraid of being hypnotized. Because I’m not. Because I can’t be hypnotized. Because hypnosis doesn’t work that way. You can’t just walk up to a random person and tell them to keep staring until their eyelids start getting heavy and they just doze off into a hypnotic trance.

And there it is, right on cue, ‘your eyes are getting heavy, with every breath they get heavier… and sleepier.’ All those big dramatic pauses and weirdly emphasized words, does he even know he sounds like William Shatner impersonating Bela Lugosi? It’s just embarrassing, is what it is. I mean, yes, my eyelids are getting a little tired, but that’s, that’s normal. Staring like this would make anyone’s eyes get… um. Drowsy. Whoa. Little headrush there. It’s just because I’m so close to him, it’s making everything seem to spin around a little. That’s, that’s normal too. I’m not.

Hypnotized.

Okay, this isn’t funny anymore. Every time I blink, he keeps telling me that ‘your eyes are getting more and more relaxed, until they don’t want to open anymore.’ I’m just going to… keep them shut for a while. That way he can’t tell me how heavy they’re getting. I’ll just stand here with my eyes closed and tune him out for a bit. That’ll teach him to try to hypnotize me. I’ll just ignore him, not even listen to his voice. Just drift deeper and let his voice flow into the back of my mind until I can’t tell it apart from my own thoughts anymore.

That sounds so good. So warm and relaxing and soothing. I don’t need to notice where we’re going. I don’t need to notice what I’m doing. I’m not listening to his commands, I’m not paying any attention to his instructions. That’s how I know I’m not hypnotized. When I follow him into the apartment building across the street, it’s just because I want to. I want to follow along with whatever feels peaceful and relaxing. That’s not a trance. That’s just a good idea. I’m so glad I keep coming up with good ideas. All my best ideas sound like his voice, but I don’t need to think about that right now. I don’t really need to think about anything right now.

I don’t know why he thought his cheesy hypnosis scam would work. I’m not some sort of weak-willed, gullible bimbo who just trots off obediently with the first person who snaps his fingers. I’m, um… I’m horny, is what I am. No wonder all my thoughts seem so muzzy and confused right now. It’s because I’m turned on and I need to play with myself. I strip naked, eager to fuck my thoughts away with my fingers. My hands drift down to my pussy. My jaw hangs open in thoughtless pleasure as I begin to tease my clit.

I decide to open my eyes. I can do that, I realize, without leaving this warm, happy state. I see myself in a mirror, my stare blank and vacant, my fingers deep in my cunt. “Yes, Master,” I hear myself say. “I am a mindless, obedient hypnoslut for you.” I don’t know where the words came from, but they feel like a perfect description of the girl in the mirror. My pussy clenches tightly, spasming in helpless bliss as I watch myself masturbate my thoughts away.

“Yes, Master,” I say again, my climax approaching rapidly. “I want to stop thinking and come for you.” I don’t know where these words are coming from, but they fit into my head seamlessly as though the old thoughts are being wiped away by pleasure. “Yes, Master. I don’t need to think. Yes Master. I only need to obey. Yes Master. I am empty and… and com… compliant…”

Then the orgasm washes over me. And everything goes blissfully, perfectly blank.

(Like this flash fiction? Want to see more? Visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox, or drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox!)

Very hot story from @jukeboxemcsa of resistance to hypnosis being twisted into submission. Wow! Impressive.