Five Six Seven Eight

Author's note: This is a story about hypnosis, trust and intimacy.

Readers who are familiar with some of my other works should be prepared for a story that doesn't include shape-shifting futuristic sex toys, hyper-empathic artificial intelligence, or robotic bondage chairs. The story also features a lot more intimacy than it does sex.

I enjoy writing fantasy, but I wanted this story to feel real: believable protagonists, and a realistic portrayal of hypnosis - at least, for someone fortunate enough to be a good hypnotic subject.

Writing this story was a useful way for me to explore some real relationship dynamics. The characters in this story are fictional, not real people under pseudonyms, but if they do resemble real people then I am very happy for them, because they're clearly onto a good thing.

***

One, two, three, four...

I moved and she slid past me effortlessly.

She followed my lead, gliding forward, hips rolling, her hand in mine. Cuban heeled sandals slid silently across the wooden floor. A raise of my hand, a transfer of my weight from left to right and my partner span as she travelled.

My lead. Come forward, turn, stop. One of her hips settled deliciously into my hand as I took her movement and redirected. Her arms went up, and her hair went out, trailing behind as she turned the other way. I was her fixed point in space, she was my one-woman orchestra to conduct.

Block. Her hand was on my waist and the dynamic changed instantly. She'd heard something in the music and she was going to interpret it. Her lead now.

My eyes were on hers, but her hips were going right. So were mine. Match her movement. Yes, there it was! Boom, chick, boom, chick.

Five, six, seven, eight...

The end of the phrase and I felt the tension come back to her hand. The lead was mine again.

One two there four...

Time to move again, faster this time. Once again I stepped back and to the side, opening a path. Once again she accelerated, travelled and turned, and I was there alongside, supporting and guiding.

We could both hear it, the change in the music rushing toward us. Not a word spoken, but we were both building to the same moment, nearly upon us. It was up to me to get us there though. Smooth and sure: one hand on her back, the other hand tightened in hers.

Do you hear that? I hear that, I have a plan, do this. I trust you. I have you. Go!

Five, six, seven, eight, drop!

Boom! The phrase ended, the beat dropped, and so did Jess.

A "seducer" they call it. She went back and down, near horizontal, toes pointed, arms out. I caught her, held her, a solid foundation. That dramatic freeze frame moment: fast in, slow out. Then on we went with the rest of the song. My lead, her follow.

This was our dance; our conversation without words.

Three minutes from when the DJ had called out the last song the music ended and we stood there together in the centre of the dance floor. We always shared the last dance, by unspoken agreement. We were more than just dance competition partners, for several months now we had also been lovers

I felt Jess push her head into my shoulder. She was a head shorter than me, and there was something soft and deeply feminine in the way that she let herself melt into me. I loved this, not least because it reminded me of the first moment that I had known for sure that she was attracted to me.

***

"Caught you again."

I jumped, my mind rudely jolted back to the here and now. I looked up into a pair of knowing blue-green eyes.

"You know," Jess said, lowering the book that she had been reading, "I didn't realise when I first met you how much you like to get absorbed in what you're doing."

I had been daydreaming again, about something. I realised that my eyes and my hand had strayed to that spot on Jess's back where it met the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. The geometry of that part of her, tight muscles under silky skin, always distracted me. Sharing an evening on the sofa with my girlfriend was enjoyable, even if we were doing our own thing.

"Things that you're doing," Jess continued, "for example, me."

Her usually rounded lips pulled tight into a wide, predatory smile.

She was right. I had spent years cultivating the self image of a man fully in control, completely on top of my emotions and my actions. Then whenever I was with this beautiful woman I always seemed to let my guard down. I found myself becoming totally absorbed in her; her eyes, her hair, her smile, her body. It seemed to happen a lot, and from time to time she would catch me and give me a knowing look.

This time the smile was more mischievous than usual.

"In fact, you were properly spaced out there for a minute. I'd better not snap my fingers or you'd just drop right here on the sofa.

"Hmmm?" I said. It was strange, I didn't quite follow, yet there was something in what she'd said that plucked at a strand of excitement somewhere inside me.

"Drop into a trance. You know! Like hypnosis."

For effect Jess turned to face me and raised one hand. Her voice seemed to drop an octave as she intoned "And when I snap my fingers you will close your eyes and drop into a deep, deep sleep, feeling really, really calm and relaxed."

Somehow as she spoke I became very aware of just how green Jess's eyes were, how her hair cascaded off her shoulders, how the lamp light in the room reflected from the curve of her moist lips. She snapped the fingers of her raised hand with a sound so sharp it was like a firecracker had just gone off in the room.

Fuck. That was hot. How did she do that?!

"I can't say I'd know." I somehow managed to keep my composure. "I've not been hypnotised."

"Oh."

She slid the bookmark into the novel that she'd been reading and pivoted to face me, drawing her legs up underneath her. It was how she sat when she was in a playful mood and worryingly I was now the recipient of her full attention.

"Well that's our new plans for this evening. How have you never been hypnotised before? It's a lot of fun, you should try it."

"And where are we going to find a hypnotist at 9pm on Thursday evening?"

Stupid Mark, why did you say that, you know that smile too well! You've let her get three moves ahead of you already!

"Hmmm, do you still have that pocket watch in your wardrobe? Or I guess a candle might work well..." Jess made an act of looking around the room. She was visibly enjoying herself. I knew I probably wasn't keeping a lid on my discomfort and I had learned in the past that that was a guaranteed catalyst for this kind of playful teasing.

Did she really know how to hypnotise people? How had that not come up as a topic of conversation before?

"When," I asked, slowly, carefully, "did you learn to be a hypnotist?"

"Oh, ages ago." Jess replied casually. "Back at uni. Emily and Fran found a book on it in the library and we had a go. Turns out it's not that hard, we used to practice on each other."

Okay, somehow my girlfriend was a hypnotist. How did I feel about that? Perhaps turned on, and terrified in equal measure. The thing about her friends hadn't helped: I'd met them and they were hot. Somehow the thought of the three of them taking it in turns to mesmerise each other poked at an arousal button that I didn't know I had. Jess might as well have told me they used to strip to their underwear and have pillow fights.

But being hypnotised myself though. The thought of losing control scared me. Or did it? Perhaps, actually, I liked the idea of losing control and it was that that scared me.

"Mark, are you okay?" Jess stopped her teasing for a moment. "I would love to show you this but you know it's totally okay if you aren't comfortable with it."

I felt conflicted. I thought about the way Jess liked to press herself into my shoulder. It seemed to me that this deeply feminine gesture was so sincere because it was in stark contrast to her usual nature. Usually she came across as fiercely independent, driven, self-reliant, quick witted, challenging. Yet with her head on my shoulder and her hand on my chest without words she told me that to her I was solid, I made her feel safe, I was a fixed point in space for her that she could rely on.

It was the same when we made love. Yes she liked to make a game of it, but ultimately she invited me, drew me in, with her body she urged me to take her. She was small, and she didn't need words to tell me that she loved how my size and strength put her at my mercy. Whenever I took her to bed those big eyes of hers were so wide, open, receptive, in awe.

It was a version of me that she seemed to see a lot more clearly than I did, because confident masculinity was by no means something that came naturally to me, rather it had been the culmination of years of conscious effort. Perhaps on some level I was afraid that it was still all just an act that I was putting on, that my confidence was just a thin veneer. Maybe she would find out just how intimidating I found her at times.

My glass of wine was on the coffee table. As a diversionary manoeuvre to buy myself some time I reached out to pick it up. I'd barely begun the movement when I felt the whisper of Jess's hand on my forearm. A feather touch that stopped it dead.

Block. Her lead now.

"Hey Mark," she said confidentially, "you remember the first time I offered to, you know, take you in my mouth. You'd not had that done before and I told you to trust me."

I did remember. Fun times were had by all that day.

I nodded, slowly.

Jess smiled sweetly. "trust me."

This was something that I loved about Jess, the aura of confidence and sincerity that she could project. It could be intimidating, very intimidating, but in the time we had been together it had become a constant and welcome reminder to keep raising my game. All things considered, I loved what this woman brought out in me.

"Alright," I sighed, "what do I have to do?"

"Oh it's very easy, you just have to listen to what I say and follow my instructions." Jess took my hand and held it up in front of my face. "All you have to do is look here in the palm of your hand..."

Her voice had dropped in tone in the way that I had heard earlier. She was telling me to relax, to look at the lines on my hand and focus on her voice. It was still her voice, but it was softer, deeper and almost melodic. Like so much of her personality it possessed an easy confidence. I couldn't deny that there was a part of me that was really, really turned on by seeing this side of Jess. She was just gorgeous to look at, she carried it unapologetically, and physical contact with her was electricity.

That's where my awareness was focussed right now. That point of contact where her hand touched mine. It guided it closer and closer to my face.

"...that's right, and notice how your vision blurs, and in a moment that hand will touch your face and when it touches you'll find it so easy to let those eyes close..."

My eyes lost focus and sure enough I indulged her and closed them as my fingers brushed against my forehead.

"Now let that hand drop." Jess said. Emphasis on the word "drop".

My hand dropped. Curiously my body wanted to follow it but Jess's hand was on my arm, steadying me. It was in a familiar place, where it usually rested when we danced close together.

Dancing close with Jess was somehow familiar and still exciting. I thought of the first time we had got together to practice dancing together, to prepare for a competition. She was a superb dancer and I couldn't believe my luck that I had her to myself for a whole evening, even if we were just going to be team mates and friends. Then she had turned up in skin tight gymwear with her flaming red hair tied up in a high ponytail. I realised with rising horror that I'd instantly become hard inside my jeans and there was nothing I could do to make it go away.

Please iTunes gods, I'd prayed, don't land me in it by playing a slow song.

If she'd noticed at the time she hadn't said anything. It turned out that Jess liked practicing to slow songs, and snuggling in to be led in a close hold, quiet and receptive to my lead. It was a new side of her I'd not seen before. It was during one of these dances, at a subsequent practice session, that the head on my shoulder had crossed an invisible line that went beyond dancing. I had known that when we stopped dancing and she looked up at me we would kiss.

Contrast that image with where we were now, with my composure softening and Jess's hand steadying me. Now she was leading and I was supposed to follow. Would she be turned on if it was me putting my head into her shoulder as she lead me around the dance floor?

I couldn't see it. As much as the desire to let go of my control and let Jess expand to be my entire awareness surged inside me. I was supposed to be the rock, and rocks weren't supposed to soften, were they?

Jess was still talking. Now telling me to focus on how my breathing could relax me.

I opened an eye and peeked up at her. She was watching me intently. In the dim lamp light she looked beautiful, as always. Her lips were parted slightly. My own lips felt dry. There was a hint of arousal in her gaze.

"I see you." she grinned.

"I'm sorry," I said, opening my eyes. "I'm not sure this is working."

"You're doing great Mark, you really are. Just keep listening and following my instructions."

I nodded, feeling like a naughty schoolboy.

Jess continued completely unperturbed, her voice low and melodious. I listened to her words and followed her instructions. Relax my arms, relax my legs, breathe slowly. Slowly my tension drained away and my muscles went slack. When this had started I had been considering each word, each sentence, wondering where she might be going with this. Now I was just listening, I was just hearing her words. I was very much still here, but things felt simpler and easier if I just listened.

Then I became aware of something strange. It was as though my body would react to Jess's words without checking in with me first. Small things: she would tell me to breathe, or nod my head and somehow I had already done it before I'd realised what was going on. Somehow Jess had me in her grip and it was so easy to go where she wanted me to go. I felt warm and calm, but on some level I still wasn't sure.

All of a sudden I jumped. Had I drifted off?

I realised I must have let my guard down. I shook my head and sat bolt upright. The lamp light in the room seemed very bright. Jess was sat next to me looking very startled.

"Sorry." I said, "I think I fell asleep."

"Oh."

"I don't think it's working anyway."

"Oh.... okay." Jess said. "If you're not comfortable it's completely okay to stop. I just thought it might be fun, you know?"

"Yeah." I said. "Let's stop. Is that okay?"

"Of course." Jess said.

Something was wrong though. She was looking really disappointed.

"I'll be right back." Jess told me. She got up from the sofa and walked off to the bathroom.

I had screwed up. Call it some kind of boyfriend's intuition but as I watched her leave the room I knew I had screwed up. I was missing something. Somehow I could tell that this mattered a lot more to Jess than just a trivial game she wanted to play with me.

Jess's usual method for dealing with stuff that bothered her was to go quiet. It was subtle, and practically invisible to anybody who didn't know her very well. Sometimes I would wish that if there was something wrong she would just come out and say it. Sometimes she did, but likely after hours or even days of turning it over and over in her head first. No good asking her about it either, she would probably deny it or play it down.

I picked up my wine glass, took a sip and then stared into the bottom of it. For some reason I found myself thinking about the expression I had seen on Jess's face when I had peeked at her earlier. There was something familiar about it, in the way that she had been watching me, though subtle. It took me a moment before I managed to place it. I could be forgiven, because I had been a bit distracted at the time.

Jess's thighs straddled my body, her hands in mine, our fingers intertwined, her hips rolled to a sensual rhythm. She was on top of me, I was deep inside her, surrounded by a warmth and near intolerable friction. She'd already had an orgasm, and now it was my turn; all of her attention was turned to this task. I could feel the brink rolling closer, relentless, unstoppable. Through all of this memory's sensual barrage I glimpsed a peripheral image: Jess's eyes locked on me, watching me, concentrating, deeply aroused, lips slightly parted.

That was when I got it. It all fell into place. I had been worried about losing control in front of Jess, but what excited Jess was the idea that she, and only she, could make me lose control.

I was the stoic, unmoving bulwark that she could always rely on. Great. That was what had planted the seeds of attraction and nurtured them in the early stages of our relationship. Now though we were on a totally different level.

I thought about when we danced together. Sure, when everybody learns to dance with a partner the dynamic is simple and obvious: the man leads and the lady follows. That wasn't how Jess and I danced though: to experienced dancers the lead was a token to be handed back and forth, part of a conversation that was in constant flux. On the dance floor, in bed, I was always putting my trust in this woman and seeing where she would lead me.

I became aware of Jess slipping quietly back into her place on the sofa. Yep, this had definitely got to her. When she was in a good mood her return would be more in the vein of "Jess has arrived!": arms around my body from behind, sofa cushions thrown in affection, that sort of thing.

I put down my drink and turned to face her.

"All okay?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. Fine."

Jess seemed a little preoccupied. She reached out to the coffee table for her own drink, but I reached out and intercepted her. I took hold of her wrist.

Block. My lead.

Jess looked at me. Shit that expression was terrifying. I knew her well enough now to know that it was just her neutral face but in the low light it looked harsh and disapproving. Jess smiled a lot, so receiving it could be a surprise and it could still send a shiver down my spine.

Push through Mark.

I was still holding her wrist, and with a little bit more than gentle force. It was something that I knew she liked, under the right circumstances. It was my turn to use a confidential tone.

"Now, I've caught you. I just realised that you totally get off on the idea of seeing me lose control."

The effect was magic. Jess's hard exterior melted and a guilty expression spread across her face. It was like she'd been caught taking food off my plate when I wasn't looking.

"No...?" She volunteered coyly.

"Yes." I answered with a grin.

"I mean..." she said quietly, with a nervous smile on her face, "I guess I do. It's a side of you I don't usually get to see. I suppose it makes me feel special and... you know... sexy."

It had been a long time since I had seen Jess blush like that, and it was so adorable. I let go of her wrist and leant over to run my other hand through her hair and rest it on the back of her neck, the way she had always liked. She gave me a self-conscious smile and I was aware that I was grinning at her.

"Well, now that I've figured you out I think maybe you should give it another try sometime."

I leant in and kissed her. Her lips met mine in a familiar warm appreciation of our being together. When we broke away just a few seconds later I realised that Jess's expression had changed and she was suddenly looking a lot more mischievous.

"Hey Mark," she said, switching to her low melodious voice, "Do you remember when you were feeling very zoned out earlier, and do you ever find when you look at me and you listen to my voice you find yourself wanting to DROP!"