This story deals with mind control, femdom and bdsm themes in a lesbian setting. If you think you will be upset by this please find yourself another story.
Chapter 1
I signed the partnership document where required and than passed the pen over to Gemma. It was a big step to take and I expected to see some of my own nervousness reflected in her expression but the look on her face was difficult to fathom. She was smiling but it was the passive smile of a chess player who had just seen her opponent unwittingly make a telling error.
Jenny, in her capacity as our solicitor, witnessed our signatures and then agreed to join us for a celebratory drink. I assumed that we would go to the local wine bar, as was our usual habit when the three of us got together, but Gemma suggested a pub that she knew. She drove and kept up a light hearted conversation with Jenny whilst I sat alone in the back seat trying to spot a landmark I could recognize. We had come south of the river and I was in totally unfamiliar territory.
The pub turned out to be not as bad as I feared. It was almost new, brightly lit with modern beech and chrome fittings. To start with we almost had it to ourselves but later a hen party arrived and things grew a little more lively. There was a small podium at one end of the bar and at some point a microphone materialized heralding the arrival of a comedian. Playing to his audience he started to tell a series of male deprecating jokes which I found mildly embarrassing but Gemma laughed along whole heartedly. She had always been far more liberal minded than me and often poked fun at my somewhat prudish outlook on life.
I hoped that we could call it a night but Jenny insisted on getting in another round of drinks and a second act took to the stage. This time it was a woman but she looked more like a doctor than a comedienne. She was dressed in a business suit and wore minimal makeup but she had the sort of natural beauty that needed little enhancement. It turned out that she was a hypnotist and after a brief, almost peremptory, introduction she called for a volunteer from the audience. One of the women from the hen party was pushed forward by her friends and that was my first surprise. I had often seen stage hypnotism on television but I was convinced that it was based on plants in the audience. In this instance I had seen the woman arrive with her friends and I was sure that she was genuine. The second surprise was the ease with which she was put under. There was no preamble, no hocus pocus, the hypnotist simply asked her to take a seat and close her eyes. She then touched the tip of her finger to the woman’s forehead and spoke just loud enough for the audience to hear.
“When you hear the music you will be a pole dancer.”
With those few simple words she stepped off the podium and switched on her CD player. The music was a nondescript dance track but as soon as it started the woman got up from her seat and began to gyrate. She gave it everything she had and would probably have made a genuine performer but the joke was that, whilst for her it was real, for the rest of us the pole was completely imaginary. I laughed despite myself and continued to laugh as she called more people to the stage.
The next woman was encouraged to flirt with a broom and the one after was convinced that she was a man who was jealous of the broom. When the next volunteer was called it took me a second or two to realize that Gemma and Jenny were pointing me out. Whilst my business dealings call on me to be gregarious I am, by nature, shy and the last thing I wanted to do was to go up on stage but I was curious. I would have said that I made a poor hypnotic subject and I wondered if she would pick up on it and look for someone else. Gemma had me pulled to my feet and the woman beckoned me forward. I felt slightly uneasy but it was too late to back down; the crowd was shouting encouragement and I did not want to seem a spoilsport.
The woman had me sit on the chair and then I found myself looking into her eyes. For a second or two I had the strangest feeling that I knew her and I was still racking my brains when she moved her fingertips towards my eyelids causing me to close them reflexively.
“When you hear me say the words “Good dog” you will yap like a puppy”
The words hovered in my subconscious and, for an instant, my mind conjured a bizarre visualization. Did I know her because she was my mistress and me her pet?
“Good dog.”
I heard myself starting to yap and some distant part of my mind knew I had to stop but my mistress looked so pleased that I grew even more excited. I began to wag an imaginary tail causing the cautionary voice to grow louder and for a moment I seemed to have control of myself but then I became aware of the audience’s laughter. I did not see what right they had to laugh at my mistress and so I turned to them and yapped indignantly. They, of course, laughed all the harder and I was almost overcome by the urge to bite someone.
The woman must have sensed my growing distress. She touched my forehead and said “Stop”.
Notwithstanding what had taken place I was surprised to find myself on all fours and I quickly got to my feet. The audience applauded as I returned to the table to find Gemma wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks. We left soon afterwards and Gemma dropped me at my flat before going on with Jenny. Once inside I made myself some coffee, drew myself a bath, and mulled over what had happened. On the plus side I had established myself as a good sport who could enjoy a laugh at my own expense but, when I came to examine it, I was upset at how easily I had been manipulated.
As I toweled myself dry I looked in the mirror. I prided myself on my self confidence, and there was no doubt that some of that was based on my perception of my body image, but the reflection that I saw just then seemed different somehow. That person that I thought I knew so well now seemed flawed.
I laughed out loud and tried to put it out of my mind. Gemma’s nickname for me was “Stoney” which was a little double edged. She said that I looked like the Basic Instinct actress and whilst I denied it I was secretly flattered. I thought I looked good for my twenty eight years and I took particular pride in my breasts which I’m sure would have had Sharon jealous. The thought was master of the deed and almost without thinking I brought my hands up and gently began to pinch my nipples. They quickly became engorged turning from a coral pink to a more angry red in the process. At that moment I wanted Sebastian to be with me but, since our engagement, he had had to take more foreign business trips than ever. He was an ardent lover and, with a little bit of fine tuning, I was turning him into considerate one. He loved my nipples and I had taught him how to suckle them in just the right way to the point that I could orgasm from that alone.
The thought of it sent up the temperature between my legs and I contemplated the vibrator that I kept by my bedside but on this occasion the full length mirror held me. I felt almost disembodied as I watched my hand move downwards until my carmine varnished fingernail grazed the frizz of blonde curls that covered my pubis. I pressed gently against my labia and was surprised at how wet I already was. I pouted playfully at my reflection and in my mind I told myself that I was a slut. As if to acknowledge the fact I moved closer to the mirror and stood with my feet a little further apart. I had intended to allow myself a leisurely orgasm but I was overcome by my own wantonness. I used my free hand to hold myself open and I sought out my clitoris. I rubbed at myself with unaccustomed vigour and started to groan as my orgasm quickly grew. I was staring directly into my own eyes as I collapsed to my knees and allowed it to finally overwhelm me. It was the most intense climax that I had reached in a long time and there was no obvious reason for it. I was still puzzling it over as I slipped into bed ready to start all over again.
The following morning I arrived at the office to find my new partner already at work. It still seemed odd to think of her in those terms. When we both left Stowe and Lawless it had been with the intention of setting up as sole practitioners but it had seemed logical to share office space until we found our feet. I had never doubted that I would fair better than Gemma in the long run not least because I was already armed with a reputation for having a sharp intellect. Not that Gemma was an intellectual slouch it was just that if she could win people over with her feminine charms she was always prepared to take the easy option. She was two years younger than me and if Liv Tyler was ever in need of a stunt double Gemma would fit the bill. She had dark, almost gypsy, good looks that could flash from total innocence to downright sexy in the blink of an eye. There was no doubting that those looks had hooked some male clients who might otherwise have gone elsewhere.
As the months passed we had developed a curious but successful symbiosis and when, finally, Gemma had suggested a formal partnership, I could find no good reason not to aside from an instinctive unease that would not come into focus.
As I walked into my own office Gemma followed me in.
“Diane Logan isn’t going to bite.”
I must say that I was not altogether surprised and perhaps even a little relieved. There was something about Logan that did not quite ring true and I was not altogether convinced that she would make a good client. Gemma took a seat on the leather sofa that I used for meetings before speaking again.
“You know, if she was a man I could have her in the palm of my hand.”
It seemed an odd thing to say and so I joked with her.
“Are you thinking of becoming a lesbian?”
“Don’t be silly…but I thought you might…”
