Goddamn Trigger

From the blog 'tildaswintonismypatronus', February 8, 2019:

Some days it's not easy being a brat. Like, look, all I want is just to wipe the smug look off of Master's face and get him to break down giggling every once in a while, okay? I mean, yes, it's nice when he takes me by the hand and pulls me onto the bed and spanks my lily-white ass until it's hot pink, sure. But it's the times when I kind of win that I live for, even if it's just for a moment before he grabs my thicc hips and pulls down my panties and checks my pussy to see if I'm lying when I say I don't care whether we fuck. When I stick out my tongue and wiggle my butt and say, "Make me, Mister DomlyDomDom," and he can't quite hold his stern look, and he facepalms? That's my favorite thing ever, even when I know he's going to punish me for it.

Especially when I know he's going to punish me for it.

But this new thing we've gotten into? Hypnosis? Oh, that's just so fucking unfair. And I mean, the worst part of it is that I can't even blame him for it, because it's my subconscious mind that's being a sneaky, obedient little bitch! Not that he's not a really good hypnotist-god, he took to this shit like a duck to water once he went to the first munch and got hold of some books on the subject. He's got the perfect voice for it, all smooth and silky and rich; it's like someone pouring melted chocolate straight into my brain or something. But I know that if I wanted to resist him, I could. That's, like, Hypnosis 101. You can't be made to do anything that you don't really want to do, deep down.

But man oh man, is it a shock to find out that what I really want to do, deep down, is follow every single one of Master's hypnotic commands instantly and without question. I really thought when we started that this would be tons of hot scenes where Master tied me to the bed and dangled a hypnotic pendant in front of my eyes, and I struggled to look away while he dripped teasing, sexy, brainwashy words in my ear and teased my cunny with his free hand until I lost track of the world around me and I stopped remembering why I was fighting so hard and I finally came my brains out and dropped into trance at the same time.

But it turns out that my subconscious is like, 'Fuck that, bitch! Gimme that sweet sweet brainfuck juice!' (Which is, I guess, like melty chocolate flavor juice? Look, I never promised sensible metaphors on my blog, okay? Just loads of stories about my kinky fucking life. I don't hear anyone else complaining.) I have, like, absolutely zero fucking resistance to Master's inductions, and something like negative a million resistance to his post-hypnotic triggers. Oh, fuck, those goddamn triggers. They are the absolute bane of my bratty existence. I'd ask him to remove them, except for the fact that they turn my pussy into a total squishy mess every time he uses them on me.

Like, take last Saturday. It was a quiet day, we'd finished all the household chores nice and early and we were sitting on the couch watching some Critical Role and maybe just beginning to think about making lunch (well, okay, just beginning to think about snacking on a handful of leftover Valentine's Day candy) and Master said, "Would you kindly get me a soda from the fridge?" Just as smooth and mild as you please, like it's not even any kind of big deal.

And anyone who reads this blog already knows that this is my cue to say, "You mean a pop, don't you?" because I love teasing him about the way that he moved all the way from sunny California to the freezing hellscape that is Grand Forks just to get closer to my perky little boobies, and that there was no way that this was going to end without at least five minutes of open defiance and a spanking that would make sitting down for the rest of the episode incredibly uncomfortable and totally fucking hot at the same time.

But that was before the Goddamn Trigger went into my Weak and Feeble Brain. Now, and by 'now' I mean 'last Saturday', I stood bolt upright and said, "Yes, Master," in a blank and empty monotone that I am trying so hard to pretend doesn't make my pussy wet because the last thing I want is for Master to realize how easy it is to turn me into a horny little slut just by using his hypnotic triggers on me. (And you can totally tell that I don't want that, because I'm only putting it on this blog that he reads every single week.) And I trotted right off to the fridge, grabbed out one of those weird bacon sodas he has shipped from home every month, and handed it over to him without even making fun of his taste in pop.

I know! I'm becoming everything I ever hated.

And then I just stood there, arms at my sides, staring blankly into space, waiting for him to tell me I'd done a good job. Now, I know that you're probably thinking, 'Wait! Isn't the whole point of a "would you kindly" trigger that it's subtle and undetectable to vanilla types in the room? Aren't you supposed to install it in your hypnotized submissive's head so that they act perfectly normal, sound perfectly normal, but follow your instructions like a good obedient slave girl?'

The answer to that is, 'Have you ever

met

Master?' I love him more than I can comfortably put into words, don't get me wrong, but 'subtle' is not in his vocabulary. When he wants me to dance like a puppet on a string for him, he's not shy about letting everyone know it. I have been spanked in places that I never thought he would dare to spank me, both anatomically and geographically, and he gives no fucks about bugging the Muggles when the DomlyDomDom mood strikes him. (He does give a fuck about mugging the Buggles, but this is not the time nor the place to talk about his weird fetish for 80s New Wave bands.)

The point is, I just stood there, respectfully silent, staring blankly out the picture window at the bird feeder until Master said, "Good girl, Kitten! Resume." At which point I sat down in a very big huff, crossing my arms and staring at the floor and doing the full lower-lip pout, because I knew that nothing gets a reaction out of Master like the full lower-lip pout. Not that I'm saying I missed getting pulled over his lap and having my ass paddled until I was squirming like a naughty little bitch in heat, but... oh god, I can't even finish that sentence. Of course I missed it. I was turned on, I wanted some funishment, and Master was drinking his weird skanky bacon soda like nothing was happening. It was officially time for some Desperate Measures.

Sure enough, Master set his pop down on the coffee table with a calm, measured, totally chill demeanor that meant he was about to fucking wreck me in all the sexiest ways I could imagine... and then his hand shot out, snaked through my long blue hair and gathered it up into a tight little knot in his fist, and he steered my head smoothly and surely to gaze into his deep brown eyes. "Is something wrong, Kitten?" he asked, sounding just as sweet and tender as an Italian love poet.

I squirmed and wriggled, because I always love to pretend I'm trying to break free when I really just love the way his hand doesn't even move a fraction of an inch no matter how hard I pull-god, I love how strong he is. It always makes me so fucking wet to just bump up against his muscles like a kitten getting grabbed by the back of the neck. He didn't say a word, just patiently played with my nipples with his free hand until I wailed out, "It's not fair, Master!" (I was referring to the hypnosis, not the way he was always just a little faster at pinching my titties than I was at swatting his hands away. But that's not very fair either.)

He looked at me blankly for a moment, and then his eyes widened in a big fake 'now I get it' look. "Ohhhhhh!" he said, pretending to be all... understandy, and stuff. "You mean your trigger! Is that what's bothering you, Kitten? Are you feeling mad because I can just say, 'Would you kindly pull down your shirt and show me your tits?' and you have to obey?"

"Yes, Master," I droned, reaching up and hooking my fingers into my collar so that I could yank it all the way down and rest it under my ample breasts. Which is more or less the reason I wear shirts with really stretchy fabric and really loose collars on the weekends, but normally it's Master putting my tits on display while I try to stop him and epically fail. The Godamn Trigger, though... I don't think I even tried to resist. My subconscious was just, 'Oh, Master gave a command, Waking Mind! Let's just follow it together, you and me and body makes three!' And there I was, boobies out and blue eyes glazed over.

"Good girl, Kitten," Master drawled, tweaking and pinching my nipples while I stared vacantly into his eyes and let him play with my tits. "And resume." I reached up to try to push his hands away, but I was kind of squirmy and distracted and it was easy for him to get past my defenses and tease my titties for me. "So you're saying you don't like being mindless and obedient, sweetling? You don't want to go blank and empty for me every time I use your arousal to melt your brain down into soft, pliable mush with my hypnotic words?"

God, it sounded even sexier coming out of his mouth. I was rubbing my legs together the whole time he was talking, and, like... I could feel myself creaming up, you know? Like, I was getting all gooshy down there, and the more I wriggled and the more he played with my nipples, the more it got all smeared around until I could actually feel my pussy juice making my upper thighs all slippery. But I had a reputation to maintain, so I kind of weakly murmured, "...no?"

It was not one of my best efforts. Instead of wiping the smug little smirk off of Master's face, it just made him chuckle. He moved his hand down from my tits, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my sweatpants and yoinking them down to my knees like one of those magicians pulling the tablecloth off the table without knocking over the flowers. "Well, let's just see," he said, snaking his hand down into the slick and messy nest between my legs and brushing my pussy lips.

Like, at this point, I was absolutely frozen with dread. Because I knew that Master was going to find out in less than a nothingth of a second that I was actually horny AF from being hypnotized, and he was going to know that deep down, my subconscious mind really gets off from him finally having a way to control me that I can't brat my way out of. And I knew that once he knew, he was going to use my triggers on me even more, and remind me all the time that I was too weak-willed and submissive to resist his hypnotic influence because my brain melted down into my pussy every time I listened to his voice and sank into a deep, helpless, and above all obedient trance for him.

But that just made it so much fucking hotter! It is absolutely the least fair thing in the entire world. Here I was, knowing that Master was just going to turn me into a drippy, slutty, compliant mess for him and I couldn't stop it, and all I wanted to do was grind on his fingers until I saw stars, you know? When he slid into my pussy and I couldn't hide how fucking wet I was, it was just the sexiest fucking thing in the entire world.

And Master pounced on it. "You don't seem that upset to me, Kitten," he growled. He found my clit and started polishing it with his middle finger until it felt like it was glowing white fucking hot between my legs. "In fact, I have to tell you that it seems like talking about hypnosis is making you wetter than you've ever been before. Is that true, Kitten? Are you daydreaming about being taken right now? About staring helplessly into my hypnotic eyes, unable to look away because I'm holding you in place, and sinking into a deep, obedient trance for me? Is that what's making you wet?"

And I gotta tell you, that... that really got me struggling. Like, I was yanking my head from side to side, trying desperately to find even a little give in Master's grip, because as soon as he said it... yeah, I fucking knew. I knew that I was already locked in on him, and he had done the whole 'hypnotic eyes' thing enough times that even though it wasn't a Goddamn Trigger, my deep self knew exactly what to do when I was gazing into that bottomless stare and I had maybe a few seconds before it took the decision right out of my hands and slam-dunked my brain right into trance.

But Master is so fucking strong. I had no give at all. And I'm not even really sure I was trying that hard, you know? Like, I thought I was, but he kept skating his finger right over my clit, just really giving it these perfect fucking rubs that made me whimper and moan and gasp like all I wanted to do was melt into his touch and beg him to cum. So I'm saying I might not have been able to give my full effort to the cause, here. All I knew was that I couldn't look away from his eyes. His deep, dark, hypnotic eyes.

And I remember blinking, because I thought for half a moment that maybe if I couldn't see his eyes, he couldn't hypnotize me with them, amirite? But then as soon as they closed, I realized that only meant that I was too drowsy to keep them open any longer, and that if I couldn't open them, I'd definitely go into trance for him. But then when they opened, they felt ten times heavier than before, and Master's hypnotic stare was right there in front of me, and I knew I was way too sleepy to resist his power now, so I had to close them again or he'd capture my mind completely. But then I closed them, and I could feel this pull on my will like an undertow dragging me down into obedience, so I had to open them. But when I opened them, they were even heavier, and Master's gaze was even more irresistible, so I had to close them again...

I don't think I managed to open them a third time. Things got kind of fuzzy after that, though.

I know I did the droning, "Yes Master," thing a few times, in response to things he said. I'm pretty sure I thanked him for brainwashing me, which was... so fucking hot? Like, I think that's where I started cumming, when I was just chanting out, "Thank you for brainwashing me, Master," over and over and over until I couldn't make words happen anymore. And when I woke up, his cock was in my mouth and I couldn't make myself stop sucking until he shot his load down my throat, so I definitely know there was a suggestion about that. But the rest of it was all really, deliciously fuzzy in my Weak and Feeble Brain.

And when I woke up, he made me beg him to spank me, so I at least got my butt walloped the way I was hoping, but... he tranced the brat right the fuck out of me, you know? It's getting so that I might need to ask for special 'brat days', just so I can get my naughty on and get that facepalm out of him every once in a while. Because it looks like hypnosis has definitely kind of put its thumb on the scales in terms of my ability to resist. My subconscious has teamed up with Master, and the odds are not good.

That Goddamn Trigger. I think I'll keep it just a little while longer.

THE END