There's a moment, just before the world slips sideways on me, where everything almost seems normal. Raymond chirrups, "Welcome back, ladies," coming out of his stretch to straighten up and give the three of us a bright, beaming smile like he always does. "I hope you've all been doing your home exercises during the week, because it's going to be a rough couple of hours if you haven't been keeping fit and limber for me, right?" He chuckles, and we all laugh right along with him. We're used to getting an intense workout in with Raymond, even if it is usually one on one instead of in a group, and the friendly banter is just one more way the handsome young personal trainer puts us at our ease.
Then he snaps his fingers and says, "And drop for me," and the two women on either side of me slump their shoulders in instant relaxation. On the left, I see Kiri's head fall forward onto her chest in a lazy nod, and on the right, I see Vanessa doing the exact same thing at the exact same time. I have just enough presence of mind to realize in the split-second I have to react that I can't let Raymond see that I'm not affected the way the others are, and instead of blurting out an exclamation of surprise, I copy their drooping, limp posture.
I stand there, swaying just like the other women, praying that any hesitation I had was too brief for Raymond to notice. He doesn't act like he saw anything out of the ordinary. He purrs out, "That's my drowsy girls, that's my obedient good girls," as though he's very used to us suddenly falling asleep on our feet like this. He comes closer, stroking his ruddy pink fingers gently down the tawny brown skin of Kiri's cheeks, and I can see out of the corner of my half-closed eyes that she lets out a tiny shudder before relaxing even more.
Knowing what's expected of me makes it easier to pretend when he does the same thing to me. "That's right, Quisha," he murmurs softly, and I feel his fingers skimming along my umber skin like the brush of a butterfly's wing. I give the same little shiver Kiri gave, and try as hard as I can to make my arms hang even looser at my sides. Inside, though, my mind is racing. It's not hard to figure out what Raymond thinks he's done to us; the pose the other two are standing in is familiar from dozens of old movies and TV shows. He's hypnotized them. He's hypnotized them and they're both in a deep trance.
Obviously I can't let him know that it hasn't affected me, I realize. He thinks I'm hypnotized right now--maybe he got confused about who he'd already pulled this stunt on before, lumped me in with two of his existing victims--but if he figures out that I'm still awake, then he's going to devote his full attention to putting me under just like Kiri and Vanessa. And I know I'm strong-willed, but I'm not sure what would happen if he got a chance to really go to work on my brain without any interruptions. Kiri and Vanessa are both smart, self-possessed women with successful businesses and families, but he got to them. I can't let him get to me.
So when he finishes up with Vanessa and says, "You want to take off your clothes for me now, don't you, pretty girls?" I know that I can't let myself hesitate. I have to struggle my way out of my leggings, wriggling them down over my full hips and wide, rounded ass, and try not to think about what it means when I notice Raymond's hazel eyes staring at my body with hungry anticipation. I just have to pretend I'm hypnotized like the others, make myself look and sound just like a mindless, passive drone with nothing but obedience in her empty head. I have to act the part perfectly, or I'll wind up living it. If that means that Raymond gets a good look at my full, heavy breasts as they slide against the fabric of my tank top and plop down against my chest, then that's what it means. It's better than being turned into another one of his helpless, submissive pets.
I straighten up and stand at attention right alongside the others, and my voice even manages to sound like a lifeless monotone as I chant, "We obey, Master," just like Kiri and Vanessa. For a moment, I'm worried I'll stumble or stammer or say the wrong thing and give myself away, but it's not exactly hard to imagine what a twisted pervert like Raymond would have his obedient playthings say. He wants us to show our devotion, right? I can see it written on his face, watch it bulging bigger and harder between his legs under the thin fabric of his yoga pants with every second. He's getting off on the power he thinks he has over me. Naturally he'd want us to call him 'Master'.
