They both look into each other's eyes with the same quiet confidence, each one playing the encounter out in their mind the exact same way. Their gazes lock, unblinking, challenging. His lips curl in a crooked smile, already imagining her eyelids slowly fluttering as that firm stare softens into a glassy, unblinking trance. "Deeper and deeper," he says, intoning the word like a chess player making an opening gambit.
She smiles right back-a predator's smile, wide and hungry. Her tongue slides out, licking her lips with slow and sensuous anticipation. She's always the first one to introduce sexuality into the game; if he has a weakness, it's that he's a little too eager to draw her into surrender. His cock always dictates the pace of his inductions, and she loves to use that against him. "Sinking into an easy, relaxed hypnotic trance," she replies in purring tones. She notices out of the corner of her eye that his cock twitches just a little, but she knows that looking away now would earn her an instant forfeit.
"Resistance melting away," he replies. He's careful not to use any pronouns; just as neither one of them can break the other's gaze, the rules they've agreed to have specified that the suggestions can't be directed from one to the other. This isn't a test of their hypnotic skill, they're both too talented for it to matter. This is purely a test of their desire for control. Which one of them wants to control the other more? Which one can resist the allure of trance just that tiny bit longer? He feels sure that this time it will be her.
But her eyes challenge his certainty, sparkling with excitement at the thought of his stare becoming fixed and unfocused as he listens to the words and surrenders to the knowledge that they're intended just for him. "Relaxing and drifting into obedience," she says, knowing that the language she uses is intimately familiar to him. It's the language of trance, the language of submission, and she's sure that he's eager to feel that sensation stealing over him once more as she whispers out her seductive mantras.
"Down and down...and down," he fires back. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, trying not to blink. Blinking isn't against the rules-for that matter, either one of them could close their eyes at any time. But after so many trances, it's hard to open their eyes once they finally slip shut. Even the tiniest of flutters by one of them is an admission of weakness that the other will pounce on. Better to fix his gaze tightly on her, conveying with his expression that he already knows she's going to submit. It's just a matter of time.
"Thoughts just slipping away into warm, hazy confusion," she whispers, breathing out the words like a soft puff of air on his stiff cock. She wants to look down and see what kind of effect it's having, but if she does, it'll be the last thing that she remembers of the evening. Both of them have the same triggers, the same suggestions programmed into their minds on a deep and instinctive level. To cheat is to instantly go into a blank, mindless trance. She's caught him out with that a few times, shifting her body in just the right way to draw his gaze to her cleavage and his mind into hypnosis at the same time, but she hasn't scored an easy win like that in months. That's fine with her, though. She's happy to earn this.
He doesn't mind doing it the hard way either. "Mind going blank and still," he says, his voice firm and commanding. He knows that she's deeply conditioned to respond to that tone of confidence. That's what makes the game so much fun-each of them uses their victories to reinforce the other's surrender, reminding them of how good it feels to sink into trance and obey. He's not above reminding her of the pleasure of submission, teasing her with his words until her arousal does the rest of the work for him. It's not fair, but following the rules and playing fair are two very different things.
She has other ideas, of course. There are so many different kinds of pleasure, and the thrill of dominance has a special flavor all its own for her. That's why they came up with this contest in the first place-some days, she's eager to lose herself in the quiet bliss of trance and allow herself to be guided, while others she's hungry to put him through his paces as the hypnotized pet she knows she wants to be. "Can't resist," she husks out, trying to keep her fingers from twitching toward her pussy. She knows he'll use it against her if she does.
"Can't think," he counters. He can tell that this could be a long contest. She's no more in the mood to submit today than he is. That was the source of too many fights, too many frustrations. Some days they both wanted to be the one on top, others they both wanted to surrender. Finally, they agreed to just leave it up to their subconscious minds. Sooner or later one of them would feel the balance in their mind tipping over to submission, and that would settle things until the next time. Or until one of them gave up on the idea of resistance entirely.
"Don't want to think," she teases back. She knows that even though she doesn't use the word 'you', she's still saying the words that speak to his deepest, most submissive self. They both have their own little kinks, words and phrases that spike their arousal in an instant and slip past their defenses. And she knows that if irresistible hypnosis is hers, then giving up on the whole idea of resistance is his. She's going to play it for everything she's worth.
He does feel his cock pulse and stiffen in his jeans at the words, but he fights the desire to touch. Once one of them begins to openly rub or stroke, that's usually a sign that the contest is nearly over. Sexual pleasure makes it too hard to concentrate, and the distracted one is always the loser in this game. "So easy to go deep and blank and mindless," he says. Not that there's really a loser. Just a different kind of winner.
"So easy-" She catches herself. "-to relax more and more," she forces herself to say, trying her best to make the pause sound natural, "with every passing moment." She feels a wave of exhaustion pass through her from the effort. For an instant, it seemed so easy to simply repeat his words back to him. But she knows that mindless repetition is a sure route to hypnotic submission. She can hear that phrase beginning to loop in her head-mindless repetition leads to hypnotic submission-and she forces herself to think about something else. Something that's not a mantra he implanted.
"More and more hazy and suggestible," he says, emphasizing the word 'hazy'. He's hoping he can lull her into relaxation by using her own words to establish a rapport. It's risky-rapport cuts both ways, and they're both too accustomed to each other's phrasing and techniques to avoid slipping into memories of trances past. But he knows he needs to cut this short if he wants to win. His cock is beginning to throb, and he can feel a tiny damp spot growing where the tip of it presses against the fabric of his jeans. If it gets any larger, she'll notice it out of the corner of her eye, and she's too skilled not to find a way to work it into her next attempt.
