A little over a week after Emma's first encounter with Amara Rodriguez, she once again found herself stepping into the personal trainer's apartment. Amara greeted her, as ever, with a warm, friendly, encouraging smile.
"Hey, Emma!" she said brightly. "Ready to work up a sweat?"
"You know it!" Emma replied, just as brightly. She followed Amara into her home gym and immediately started changing into the bright pink workout outfit Amara had lent her.
This was the fourth time she'd come to see Amara, and already, it was all becoming a habit. She showed up, got changed, asked Amara a few questions, worked out, and left. Emma wasn't sure how to feel about that. It wasn't supposed to be a habit, after all. Her interview with Amara should have been a one-time thing. But somehow, every time, she ended up exhausted and disoriented, struggling to remember what she had been meaning to ask. She barely remembered the second half of any of their sessions. It was getting frustrating.
But it wasn't all bad. Amara seemed happy to keep meeting up with her - just as long as Emma kept up their bargain. Exercise in exchange for questions. Even that was starting to feel like a win-win. The day after her first session with Amara, Emma's body had ached like hell, but after a week, the benefits of regular exercise had already started to appear. She felt more energetic, less sore, and more confident. Mel's home-cooked dinners were helping with that too, probably. As it turned out, a healthy lifestyle felt pretty great!
Emma didn't even mind that she was struggling so much with her investigation into abuses of mind control and hypnosis in the city's fitness scene. Somehow, whenever she sat down and tried to focus on her work, she ended up feeling far too light-headed and distracted to make any real progress. Muckraking was starting to feel boring, somehow, and whenever she reviewed her notes at the end of the day, they were always riddled with typos and mistakes.
That should have been eating at her, but... it wasn't. Emma just felt good. It was irrepressible. Perhaps it was the power of exercise. Perhaps she was simply warming to the idea of taking a break from her work, as Mel had proposed. Either way, Emma wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"OK, Emma." Amara clapped her hands; Emma knew that meant they were ready to get started. "How are you feeling?"
"Good!" Emma replied, truthfully. "I think I'm getting the hang of this whole exercise thing. I actually went out for a morning jog yesterday."
"That's great! I'm proud of you." Amara smiled. "We'll make a regular gym bunny out of you in no time. Although, it would be remiss of me not to mention that, if you truly want to level up your exercise game, there's one thing that really does the trick: hypnosis."
A shiver ran down Emma's spine. "Yeah?"
"It's what most people pay me for," Amara told her, smiling. "And it's part of my regular service. Hypnosis is great for self-improvement. It makes it easier to focus. Easier to push yourself. If you wanted to, I'd love to start incorporating it into your workouts."
"I... I dunno."
Emma found herself a lot more indecisive than she would have been a week earlier. She was a lot more alert than the average person to the dangers of being hypnotized by a stranger, but Amara didn't feel like a stranger. Emma trusted her. In particular, she trusted her exercise advice. Maybe hypnosis would be a big help. It wasn't like every single hypnotist in the world was some rich asshole trying to turn people into helpless drones, after all.
But there was something else. Another factor, putting its finger on the scales: Emma had started finding hypnosis incredibly, incredibly hot.
Hypnosis wasn't exactly an uncommon kink. Far from it. Given how the rich and elite wielded it as a tool of power, it was an easy thing for people of a certain persuasion to end up fetishizing. That was new to Emma, though. Somehow, recently, whenever she was blowing off some steam in private, she found her thoughts turning in that direction.
She couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to slip under someone's hypnotic spell. The particular fantasy that kept haunting Emma was all about having the smarts and quick-thinking she was so proud of stripped out of her head, and being turned into one of those dim-witted, brainwashed bimbos that sometimes clung to the arms of powerful hypnotists. She fantasized about being stared at, posed, and put through the motions of dancing, or exercising, or performing, always while she was naked, or else wearing something pink and skintight.
It was embarrassing. But it also made her cum like nothing else, and a tiny little part of her was shivering in anticipation at the thought of finding out what hypnosis actually felt like.
"It's OK if you don't want to," Amara added. "I know you're wary, and that's totally understandable. I won't push it on you. It's just that I think it could really help, especially with the concentration problems you keep having with our interview."
Emma blinked and looked at her. "It could help with that?"
"Of course," Amara assured her. "There's nothing like hypnosis for giving you a little clarity of mind."
That was all the excuse Emma needed to succumb to temptation. She remained a little skeptical but, deep down, part of her wanted to give hypnosis a shot. She wanted to indulge this new desire of hers. If it did help with her work too, that was just a silver lining.
She'd just have to make sure Amara didn't notice how aroused hypnosis was making her.
"OK," Emma said, a touch breathlessly. "OK. Yeah. Let's give it a shot."
Amara reached over and clapped her on her shoulder. "Atta girl."
Emma blushed.
"So, um, what do you need me to do?" she asked, hoping to hide her embarrassment. "Do you have a pocket watch I should be staring at? A metronome? Do I look deep into your eyes?"
Amara laughed. "Only if you think they're pretty. I like to do things a little differently. Have you heard of kinesthetic inductions?"
"Hypnosis with movement." Emma nodded.
"That's right," Amara said. "Let me show you. Close your eyes."
Emma was a little unprepared for how quickly things were moving, but nonetheless she obediently closed her eyes. A moment later, she felt Amara take her hand and lead her a few paces away, to stand on one of her exercise mats.
"Good," Amara told her. "Now, focus on your body. Just like when you work out."
Emma nodded. That was easy. Amara was even talking to her like she did when she was working out, in that voice that was so confident, so soothing, so easy to obey.
"Good," Amara repeated. "I want you to visualize where you are right now. The room around you. The way you're standing. The way I'm standing. Picture it all, in your mind's eye. Can you do that?"
Emma nodded again. "In your apartment," she murmured. "In your gym. You're holding my hand."
"Very good," Amara said. "Keep your eyes close. I want you to notice the way that, already, your mental image is starting to fade. We forget things so quickly with our eyes shut. Where exactly are you standing? What's right in front of you? Which exercise machine is that, over there in the corner? Maybe you remember. Maybe not."
As soon as Amara mentioned it, Emma's mind's eye was starting to blur. Where was she standing? Amara had guided her to walk a short distance with her eyes closed. How many steps? How far had she moved? She wasn't quite sure.
Emma started to feel a little dizzy. She squeezed down tighter on Amara's hand.
"I'm here," Amara said soothingly. "Don't worry. I've got you."
She reached out and rested a hand on Emma's side, steadying her. An immediate wave of calm washed over Emma. Amara's touch was familiar. She was used to Amara touching her and guiding her when the personal trainer was showing her how to exercise properly.
This was no different. She just had to let Amara guide her.
Amara tugged gently at her hand, and Emma took careful, tentative steps after her, moving where she was guided. With each step, it became more difficult to picture exactly where she was standing, and, with that reference point gone, everything else started to dissolve into mist.
"It's getting harder to picture, isn't it?" Amara seemed like she could read Emma's mind. "That's OK. I want you to simply let that happen, Emma. Take some deep breaths, and let your mental image of this room fade away."
Emma did her best to obey. Once she accepted what was going to happen, it all started to fade away much, much faster. Soon, Amara's touch was her only lifeline.