A Lazy Saturday

A quick little story that came out while I was stuck on a longer one. Thanks to ckquail for their help editing this.

"Pretty please, Zoe, with sugar on top?" I know I'm being a bit of a brat, but hey, if it didn't keep working, I wouldn't keep trying it.

She rolls her eyes at me. "I've created a monster, haven't I?" I just nod. "My cute little trancemonster. Hypnotise a girl a few times and she no longer wants to go to the library, or the pool, or mini-golf even though I have coupons—"

"15% off doesn't suddenly make mini-golf fun, babe." Maybe being able to get less than 20 over par would make it fun, but that doesn't seem likely to happen.

"—or anything else, she just wants to stay in on a beautiful Saturday and have all the thoughts in her pretty little head drained away again."

"Yep." I flutter my eyelashes at her and pretend to look embarrassed. When she sighs, I can tell I've won.

"Ugh, you're incorrigible, and I only make it worse by indulging you." She sits down at the end of the couch, the only bit left unoccupied by my sprawled body. For all her plans, she hasn't gotten dressed yet either, just a pair of panties and stripey tank top. She looks good in them, but then, that's true of pretty much anything.

"Yeah, but I'm cute and I let you play mad scientist with me." I grin up at her.

"Oh sweetie, don't give me ideas. I could perform all sorts of

experiments

on you." I shiver a little. "Now here, lay your head on my lap."

I eagerly change position to obey before she changes her mind. It's quickly becoming my favourite thing—losing myself in a trance, just relaxing in the bliss of automatically doing what I'm

supposed

to do, safely under her control. I'm trying to learn to just accept my kinks. She looks down at me and quietly asks, "You ready?" I nod, then add a verbal "yes" just to be clear. "Okay hon, I'd like you to start at 200 and slowly count down by 3's."

As I begin, she talks over me, "You'll need to really concentrate on the numbers; no letting outside distractions interrupt you. Not my voice, not the feeling of my finger tracing circles on your arm, not your own urges. You're obviously already horny with how much you were begging for this, but just concentrate on your numbers. Let your arousal and my voice and everything else just float past you as you count down."

And I do. I'm doing what she says, avoiding the distractions she's listing (and there seem to be so many, one after the other) because doing what she says leads to being tranced and being tranced feels so nice and . . .

She warns me not to let my thoughts distract me from my numbers either.

107 . . .

104 . . .

I keep counting. Number after number after number. At some point I'm not supposed to be counting any more—I'm supposed to be on my knees in front of her. I slide down off the couch and kneel between her legs. I'm supposed to be topless, and I quickly remove my shirt. She says something and boops my nose, triggering a check-in with my limits. The word "green" leaves my lips.

I'm supposed to be turned on and I am, so badly, and it's supposed to turn me on that I'm being turned on by being hypnotised, and it does and I'm almost panting. I'm supposed to play with my breasts, show her how hot this is making me and how I'd touch hers if she'd let me. I gently rub them, then pull at the nipples the way she loves. She's so high above me, sitting on the couch like it's a throne while I kneel at her feet.

I want to go down on her, even more so than usual. I want to, but I can't because I'm not allowed to yet and I'm being held by my hair. I whimper. I want to nuzzle and kiss and lick and suck, and I will get to soon. I'm informed that going down on her will be rewarded. I'm supposed to remove her panties and I do so quickly, hopeful of where this will lead, but still careful to not damage them or hurt her. Another word and nose-boop and I'm saying "green" again.

My hair's released and I have permission and I move between her spread thighs, kissing my way up. I know what she likes and as I reach the top, I tilt my head so I can reach her scrotum, licking and gently sucking the sensitive skin, a shade darker than her thighs. I suddenly start to feel a ghost of my actions on my labia and I groan. I slide my hand up her leg and gently lift her soft little cock out of the way to give me better access, nuzzling at her and taking in her scent. I'm such a good girl, and she strokes my hair.

Her cock twitches and I move on to licking up along the shaft. My head rests on her soft thigh as I move to take the tip into my mouth. It's so warm and smooth and her scent is stronger now, enhanced by the taste of her. Her cock twitches more and is actually getting a little hard. The ghost-touches between my own legs feel like someone's sucking at my clit, and I moan, the vibration then making both of us moan as I feel a matching vibration below.

I back off a bit, not wanting to overwhelm either of us, and start to return to just licking the shaft. No, I'm supposed to have her in my mouth. Having her in my mouth is what I'm

for

. I take in her whole cock this time, nuzzling at her pubes, letting the tip of her cock rub against the back of my throat. Her hands are gripping my hair as I start to bob my head up and down its nice little half-hard length. It feels so good and I keep moaning and that just causes more moans and it feels even better that I'm fulfilling my purpose and she's twitching and bucking and groaning and orgasming and I'm so close and I'm so close—

She pushes me back and I'm supposed to be just kneeling again as she leans back into the sofa, breathing heavily. I squirm, my hips jogging a little, not under her control or mine. The word "yellow" comes out of my mouth, somewhat stuttered. She says something and I reply. I get up and sit on her lap like I'm supposed to, knees on either side of her thighs. I'm pulled in close, my breasts pressed against hers through her shirt, my head resting on her shoulder.

Her lips kiss the side of my neck when they're not whispering unheard words straight into my ear. One of her hands reaches around behind me to squeeze my butt hard through my panties while the other works inside of them from the front. I'm a good girl, such a good girl, and I've earned my reward by being such a good little cocksucker and her fingers are inside me and they're moving.

I'm moaning and I'm supposed to come on her fingers and I do and I do and I do and then I'm limp, collapsed against her, and she's holding me and stroking my hair and I'm just supposed to relax and go deeper. Deeper for her . . .

I return to consciousness, sitting sideways on the sofa facing her, her fingers poised in front of me like she just snapped them. I grin and hug her. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Fuck, that was good."

"So you're feeling okay?" She always checks and double-checks how I'm doing after a session, even with her traffic light system in place.

"Very. That was amazing, babe. How about you; you doing okay?"

"Mhmm, I should be good after I get cleaned up a bit."

A couple of quick showers (and a fresh pair of panties for me) later, we were back on the couch.

"So, what do you want to do now?" she asked, grinning mischievously.

"Mini-golf!" came out of my mouth, like it was supposed to, and she agreed. It wasn't until later when we were dressed and on our way out the door that I realized what she'd done. "Oh, you fucker!"

"Aren't I just? It's okay, if you really don't want to go, we can do something else."

"No, it's fine. I just don't see why mini-golf is the way you want to beat my ass when there are so many better options."

"I warned you about giving me ideas."

"That you did, babe." I go up on my tip-toes to kiss her on the cheek, and she breaks into a wide grin.

"Come along, little monster." she says, her voice dripping with affection, and she takes my hand to lead the way.