[Author's note: Harper James has turned to hypnotic scripts as therapy for her anxiety condition. However, they are opening up a new world of possibilities for her and her husband Peter.]
---
ELECTRIC DREAMS
Mondays at the mall were hit and miss. Sometimes the store was dead all day, and sometimes Harper would be rushed off her feet because there was an event organized. Today, there was some show going on in the main concourse as she stepped out of the store to grab lunch. She threaded through the scrum of people patiently and reached the salad place at last. Only then, did she realise what she'd done.
Harper took a seat, picking at her lunch, but really just revelling in it: the crowd were having a good time, watching a kids fashion show that had been set up in the middle of the concourse. She felt the positive energy from them, as opposed to the terror that should have filled her. The script was working, after all: she hadn't even thought about the anxiety until she was through the crowd and out the other side.
Harper munched lettuce, contemplating it. They'd come a long way since those first tentative steps with hypnosis. Peter had gotten very good at being able to drop her on the spot; she would just stare into his lovely blue eyes and wait for the inevitable command to drop into trance. There were no spirals or crystals or swinging watches. She had become conditioned to fall into a trance through a set of post-hypnotic triggers that made her very susceptible to her husband's inductions.
But Peter had gone further, not only dropping for her, but reaching a deeper level. He'd been able to forget himself completely, to the point that he sometimes couldn't remember what had happened unless Harper explicitly implanted the suggestion that he would retain the memories. She always made sure he retained the memories, because it was so indescribably hot to put him under and turn him into a fantasy.
The witch scenario had been a revelation. She'd felt herself surfacing, even though Peter remained deeply embedded in the fantasy. She'd been able to observe him close up, unable to detect a hint of the husband she knew and loved within Munro, the villager lost in the woods. She'd been able to convince him completely that he was captured under a witch's spell, without any free will.
The memory flashed into her head, even in the middle of the mall, of his body at attention with his substantial erection, eyes glassy, staring directly ahead. As far as he was concerned, she'd turned him to wood with her magic. Nothing she'd done had elicited the slightest glimmer of awareness.
She'd surfaced at that point, no longer Vyra the witch, and back to Harper the wife. The carefully crafted cabin in the woods turned back into their house in the suburbs. On a whim, she'd left him frozen in his statue pose and started writing notes for her story. It had been an experiment to see how long it would take him to rouse from trance naturally, but after a while she'd had to give up because his naked body had been too much of a temptation. She'd lowered herself onto his persistent erection and enjoyed the orgasm trigger inside her own head. Peter hadn't moved an inch throughout.
When at last she had freed him from the spell, and brought him to the front door of their house, checking to make sure that nobody was on the darkened street, he'd surprised her again. To him, reacting now to the warm air around his bare body, winter had given way to summer, and she'd gotten a glimpse of a wider story that was playing in his head.
Peter had later described it like being in one of those dreams where everything feels so real, where it's like the person is in a film. He'd taken the bare bones of her story outline and turned it into a full world of fairies and forests. That he'd just decided that he was a beast and therefore needed to pee outside on the front lawn had been both hilarious and a wake-up call. Peter's imagination was vivid and his ability to drop into the deepest level of trance, profound.
Harper found herself envying him that. After all, she was the one writing stories in her free time, wanting to be a proper author. Working in the fashion boutique wasn't going to be long-term. Ideally, she would have a baby and a book on the go at the same time, melding the worlds of new-mother and debut-writer effortlessly. She put her hand on her belly, even before she realised she'd done it, then got out her phone to message her husband.
He needed to be home on time tonight. They had a schedule to keep.
The afternoon dragged, but the closer it got to five o'clock, the more impatient she became. There was an itch that she couldn't scratch, getting more persistent as the minutes ticked by. All the way home, she felt it, like clockwork in her core, a need. It was the right time of the month. This time they'd get something to stick, she was sure of it.
Peter was already home when she got there, and Harper felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She strode purposefully into the kitchen, where Peter was making himself a drink, and deposited her handbag.
"Good day today?" he asked.
"Yeah, actually. I handled a huge crowd in the mall at lunch," Harper replied, peeling off her panties under her skirt.
"And?"
She grinned. "Not a murmur."
"Hallelujah, you're cured."
"Something like that. You've been in my head long enough now. It was bound to stick at some point, even with me." Harper unzipped her dress and folded it on the counter.
"Because you're so stubborn?"
"I like to get what I want." She crossed the room to her husband, naked from the waist down, still in her heels. "How was your day?"
Peter unzipped his pants. "Shit, as usual. They're trying to ramp up a new project but the client's a mess. I might have to go on site and do workshops with them."
Harper reached into his underwear and extracted his manhood. "When and for how long?"
"Probably late next week, just overnight. Is that okay?"
Harper tapped his tip with her finger and watched his erection swell immediately. "We should be out of the fertile window by then. I guess I won't need you."
Harper took up position, elbows on the dining table, presenting her naked rear to her husband.
"You always need me, babe," Peter replied and then slid into her.
Harper was already sopping, frictionless. She felt him embed himself completely, and said, "Cum for me."
Peter's cock swelled within her, and she felt the delicious tingle, catching her breath as she anticipated the moment. Peter twitched and then began to pulse, emptying his balls into her. Harper felt her own orgasm rise up from out of nowhere, triggered automatically. She clenched her teeth, emitting a low, guttural groan as the pleasure washed through her.
Peter moved, but she reached back and clutched at his hip. "No, stay a minute, Pete."
"Okay. You want me to cum again?"
"No, once is fine."
"Still want to do one more before bed tonight?"
"Yeah, that should cover it. Just stay inside a bit. I like the feeling."
Harper closed her eyes, savouring the fullness inside her. She could imagine Peter's seed finding its way into her womb, hunting for her egg. She liked to visualise it. After a while, her husband began to soften. She considered a trigger to keep him hard, but as much as it was fun to watch him walk around with a substantial hard-on all evening, he'd done his part in the last couple of days. Maybe tonight they could just make love.
Harper pulled forward, letting him slip out of her, cradling her pussy with a hand to catch the drips.
"Why don't I get dinner started?" Peter said. "You go lie back and...."
