The man across the table from Candace gave her a smile that was just a little too friendly, a little too patient. "So tell me more about this hypnotist of yours," he said, using the same tone a teacher might employ to talk to very small children about their imaginary friends. "You said that he was actually making you, er, dumber?" He looked down at a sheaf of notes, as if double-checking to make sure that he was actually reading everything right. Candace felt the first hints of an embarrassed blush creeping up her chubby pink cheeks, and she tried hard to stifle a sudden impulse to burst into nervous laughter.
But if she started laughing, she knew how hard it would be to stop. And Candace knew she needed to act serious if she ever wanted to convince her interviewer of the truth of her words. So she swallowed hard and forced herself to look him square in the eye as she replied. "Not just dumber," she said, trying not to let her voice drift into the breathy upper registers it had gotten used to. "He did, uhm... he did lots of stuff, uhm, to my, like, my brain. Uhm, he made me feel all... uhm...." Candace could feel her brain hitting each of the little 'uhms' in her speech like speed bumps, each one forcing her to pause and take stock and consciously remember where her train of thought was leading.
Sometimes she couldn't. "Sorry," she giggled, laughter bubbling up around each work and making her cheeks crinkle into a wide, helpless grin, "w-what was I saying?" Candace felt a surge of wet heat between her legs as she felt the bubble of concentration pop, leaving her helplessly tittering again for no real reason right in front of the man she desperately needed to convince of the truth of her words. The worst part was, she wasn't even sure if she was getting turned on despite her embarrassment, or because of it. Her brain had been kinked up in so many knots--and knotted up with so many kinks, for that matter--that the very thought of being seen as nothing more than a silly little ditz made her pussy ache with arousal.
Lucky for her, her interviewer seemed to have a limitless supply of patience for Candace's feeble brain. "You were saying he made you more than just dumb. That he did other things to your mind with... ahem. With hypnosis." The sardonic emphasis he put on those last two words made it clear that he didn't believe her, even if he did seem to be willing to spend an exhaustive amount of his time and energy questioning her about the man he apparently didn't even believe existed. Was he trying to get her to admit to something? Was he hoping to trick her into some kind of a confession? With a start, Candace realized she didn't even know how she wound up in this room.
Her tongue suddenly tied with anxiety, Candace furrowed her brow and tried to concentrate extra hard on what she was saying. "Uhmm..." she mumbled, not off to a great start, "he, like, yeah, he made... uhm... he made me all horny? Uhm, like, he tied them up, uhm, in my brain. So, like, uhm, getting dumb makes me horny, uhm, and getting horny makes me, uhm, dumb." Candace could feel the little metronome ticking away in the back of her head, marking off every fifth word and inserting the thought-stopping 'uhm' that made her sound so helplessly foolish to anyone who listened. Something in her head was still smart, or at least smart enough to count to five, but the hypnotic suggestions floating through her mind made it impossible to access that intelligence.
"I see," the interviewer said, scribbling a note on one of his many pieces of paper. Candace couldn't tell whether his handwriting was terrible, or whether she was legitimately having difficulty with basic literacy, and her cunt grew slick at the possibility that it might be the latter. "And so it's not you that has trouble thinking, or that maybe winds up doing sexual things in places that maybe you shouldn't. It's this hypnotist doing it to you."
Candace didn't like the sound of that. She wished she could remember exactly what happened to get her into this windowless room with blank, featureless walls and single door, but every time she tried to stretch her recollections back to before the beginning of the interview she found her thoughts descending into a featureless pink mist that Candace knew all too well from her previous sessions with her hypnotic Master. She understood all too well that her memories and perceptions were exactly what he wanted them to be, no more and no less.
She only wished that didn't turn her on so fucking much. "Yeah, it's, like, his... uhm...." Her brain ticked off another five words from the last 'uhm' as though running with the precision of a Swiss watch, an irony that only made Candace more and more desperate to play with herself through her clothes. "I try to fight it," she said, her expression growing serious for a moment as she made her most sincere appeal to the skeptical man across the table. "Uhm, but it just feels too, uhm, good." Her hand crept down between her legs, unable to resist the growing heat in her pussy any longer.
If Candace's interviewer noticed her pawing at her cunt through her jumpsuit, he didn't say anything. He only frowned at his papers again, as if the key to the mystery in front of him lay somewhere in his notes, then looked back at her with a stern expression on his face. "And can you... describe this hypnotist?" he asked, sounding for all the world as if a little bit of his veneer of endless patience was finally cracking. "Does he have a name, perhaps?"
