Sub-Poenaed

Dashing. Handsome. Eloquent. He spoke like a trained orator, his silky tones as delicious to her ears as the food he ordered for her was to her palette. His blue eyes sparkled as he listened to her speak and his manner never once allowed the mature, polite attitude he upheld to falter.

Nearly two hours after he had tucked her chair in behind her and settled across from her to accompany her meal with his attractive demeanour, he took her home. And, like the young woman that had gone too long without a man's company, hopped up on wine and food and his devilish looks that she was, she felt she didn't

quite

want to let the night end there as she looked into his eyes.

So, she invited him in.

Forty minutes later, she was sprawled on her back across her couch, unable to move a muscle as a slim rivulet of drool slowly distended from the corner of her mouth, reaching for the cushion beneath her head and eventually pooling there. She jerked and moved slightly as someone further pulled at her lower half, but she was too numbed to feel it and too far under to cognise what was happening to her. She just lay there, staring off into subspace, the foggy glow of her living room swirling and misting as her pants were pulled from her legs to reveal a pair of panties that were a little wetter than she'd have thought they'd get that night.

She'd never even known it, a part of her brain dully mused, a part that lacked the ability to move her body or bring emotional importance to a moment, a part that simply considered and pondered things, somewhere far away from the conscious woman that thought and felt and acted each day of her life. She'd never known - she'd just stared into his eyes like the docile little schoolgirl she'd felt all night, letting him talk to her and listen to her own talking as if it had all been just the charming actions of a cultured man. Not even when he'd started issuing orders to her more directly had she realised what had truly happened to her - she'd just been so head-over-heels with the masculine form and dominant voice and authoritative words that she'd felt like she agreed with everything he said--even though, in a sense, she had. Of course, she vaguely knew what hypnosis and brainwashing and mind control and all that stuff was - she'd seen it in movies and read about it in books - but she'd always assumed it was some magical craft involving spirals and dark rooms and tick-tocking pocket watches, not fixating eyes and soft speech, not gentle suggestions to look closer or listen carefully, spoken almost incidentally as part of a topic of conversation, and certainly not something a man could do to a woman in public, at a crowded restaurant, after they'd just met.

But, then again, they

hadn't

just met - they'd been talking online for two weeks now. And to further the point, he'd been talking to her all the way home, as well - plus for the best part of the last hour in her house, free from other noise and distractions, where only his dark hair and soft face remained, his bright blue eyes staring intently into her own as he slowly drew closer to her, closer until his fingertips slipped against the underside of her jaw, cupping her face, helping to relax her backwards until she was--

With an internalised start, she realised she was imaginatively replaying the scene that had just played out, allowing her brain to become wholly distracted by the act all over again. It was not the first time she had gotten caught in this loop. Returning to the present, she realised something was softly scratching the insides of her thighs, moving downwards, and realised disconnectedly that it was the crotch of her panties as they were being withdrawn from her body. Absently, she recognised that this was an innately sexual act, and knew that such an undressing likely led to only one next step - but for all her life, she couldn't find it in herself to do anything more than smile dumbly and shrug inwardly. She didn't care - the parts of her brain that would do so for her were long gone beneath the surface of a murky, watery lake that had offered to soothe their worrying and thinking for them, and she knew that they were far, far out of her reach now.

So there she lay, docile and pliant, as the pair of maroon panties she'd chosen that afternoon were slipped over her limp legs and left to the carpet by her couch, unneeded and abandoned as her crotch was revealed to her living room and it's only other occupant.

She started to consider her situation, picturing herself on the couch, slumped back against the armrest, her legs spread, one foot cocked downwards to rest on the floor. She imagined the now bared crotch, saw herself there, saw the shaved womanhood she'd slaved over earlier that day in the shower. She knew she'd grown aroused over the evening, was aware that she'd dampened and opened up in natural readiness, and she figured she could see the shape of her pinkness there, her inner labia shaped and ready for any would-be contact. She was aware that something was coming for that part of her body, but in her present state, it could be his penis, a cucumber, or a model airplane for all she could guess. Cognitively dulled as she was, there was almost no predictive power left in her mind to consider the possibilities, and without that, she could hardly let herself worry over what she didn't know was coming next. Such was the way logic worked for an entranced woman like her, and it was exactly how he wished for her to be.

Something dark dulled the blurry shape of her room, and she frowned slightly as she tried to work out what it was. It moved and warped, and dimly, she finally realised it was him in his dark semi-formal clothing. Slowly, the foggy shape morphed from a black-and-blue into a more cream-coloured mass, and as it moved out of the way again, she wondered if it had been him removing his clothes.

It passed by her again, this time an upright shape melding with a smaller, horizontal form, wiggling back and forth. Then, she felt a firm contact either side of her head, and all of a sudden, her vision was moving, the world warping around her as her head was turned upright for her. The misty swirls of her incongruent living room deformed and lost their corporeality. Her ceiling came into view, but it was obstructed by something--eventually, she recognised it as the indeterminate cream length she'd seen pointing outwards from his body before.

'Sadie,' a baritone voice said softly, gently, though it seemed to boom in her empty mind, 'sit up on your elbows for me.'

Sadie.

So that was her name - it was a nice one, Sadie thought to herself as she complied, raising herself up to rest atop her elbows. The cream length disappeared from her view as she raised herself, but her head was still supported by the hands above her ears, and they helped to position her where she was expected to be, resting her upper head on her couch's armrest. A few moments later, the hands disappeared, and she felt something vague happening behind her neck. Eventually, a cool breeze moved upwards around her waist, and Sadie's small portion of encapsulated brainpower realised that her shirt was being lifted up her body. She smiled absently as she realised this, pleased in herself for recognising it.

'Lay back, Sadie.' The words came again, authoritative yet intimate. She obeyed, eliciting a rewarding comment from the speaker. 'Good girl, Sadie. Very good. Obey me, just like that.' She thought those words were quite nice and liked their complimenting nature - there was something warm and agreeable about following his orders, something safe and reassuring about obeying them. She complied with the order, laying down and feeling her shirt rising as she went. Her arms came up as she settled back and the fabric pulled from beneath her, lifting her wavy orange hair in its ponytail up as it went. Her arms remained stuck up for a moment as the shirt ran their length, then, when it was free, she felt a warm grasp around each wrist lowering them back to her chest, where a soft warmth emanated into her palms. She settled into that warmth, contentedness filling her. She knew that warmth, knew it was trustworthy. In her tranced state, she didn't have the brainpower to realise that the warm safety she felt was because it was her own body she was feeling - she simply knew it carried those properties, and so inherently trusted it.

The cream-pink mass moved again and she lost focus with her eyes for a while as a new portion of her house returned to her field of vision. Her body moved beneath her and she felt her legs being parted, then shuddered softly as a heavy warmth descended above her, hot and rubbery. She felt it slowly roll up against her skin, making contact with her legs, her thighs, her crotch, her stomach, her chest, then her cheek. She could feel warm contact running the length of her body, and she instinctively leaned into it, the heat soothing to her exposed skin. It felt warm, attractive, safe. She wanted to hold it close, pull her body into it to share its warmth and protection. It was desirable, trustworthy, and soothing.

Outside Sadie's hypnotic brain-space, the man who had been her date mere minutes earlier stepped over Sadie's nearly naked body and laid himself against it, settling himself atop and slightly aside her, letting his thighs--and his manhood, which stood erect and ready--rest between her parted legs, while his body lay over her hips, his arm going between her and the couch's backrest so that he could lay beside her chest. Leaning forwards, he sampled her scent, inhaling the soft musk of her sweat intermingled with the perfume she'd applied hours earlier. She was warm and soothing, and he slipped his upper arm around her waist, feeling her soft, feminine skin beneath his palm as he drew himself in close, holding her. For a few moments, he remained like that, simply sharing her intimately, enjoying her personal space. He stared into the strawberry blonde's blank face, looked at her open stare, drank in the soft, milky curves of her jawline, neck, shoulders and chest. Then, lifting the hand from atop her, he ran his fingertips tenderly over the apex of her bra, allowing his touch to play out tenderly, slipping over the shape of her bosom. He traced her chest, outlining the form of her breasts, playing his thumb ever so softly over her peaks, knowing without needing to see the slowly forming protrusions where her most sensitive spots lay behind that material.

He tugged, gently, at her right cup, allowing the underwear to give for him, exposing a little more of her tit. His fingers slipped beneath the material, brushing the perimeter of her nipple, stimulating her areola. Then, he switched to the other breast, this time softly pinching her nipple through the fabric, enjoying the way her bosom moved under his ministrations. Though Sadie was under hypnosis, her brain captured in a carefully concocted trance subspace he'd worked for many years at perfecting, her body still reacted to stimulus, the act going beyond thought and into the primal nature of arousal and copulation that went all the way back to Sadie's first ancestors, and so she had begun to breathe more heavily and move ever so slightly beneath him. He could feel her abdomen contracting as he touched her, feel the echoes of her hips wanting to roll and twist in response to the sexual stimulus, and he grinned as he felt the body of the woman reacting as obediently as her brain did to him. This was what he loved, what he lived for most, he knew - this direct, unbridled connection to the inner self, the body not the person, the way he could become the puppet master of another human being. He felt alive in this moment, knew he was speaking to her body without any influence from her brain, as if he had pushed aside thousands of years of evolution and returned them both to animals without the ability to communicate, who simply displayed their need for intercourse without shame or privacy, and who engaged in the act at will and without consideration. He was Sadie's guiding hand, the key to her animal instinct, the one who'd unlocked her true body's will and put it in power above her thoughts and emotions. He was her master, her guide, and her sole protector... And her sole mate.

The hand slipped from Sadie's breast and moulded to the shape of her stomach as it slowly descended her body, cupping her hip and spreading over her thigh, tracing her figure. He could feel the way her breathing hitched slightly as he neared her, knew her primal need was in charge now, knew that he could likely lift her from her trance and she'd still want to fuck him - but he wanted to savour her, to milk her for every drop of erotic foreplay he could, to drive her not just to wanting sex, but to

needing

it above all else, to being bent whole-minded and single-focussed on the empty, yearning wetness between her legs - a wet depth that he was more than ready to fill for her.

Sadie felt a warmth play across her upper chest and knew without knowing it that it was breath. She shied into the warmth beside her, felt tingles cascade throughout her skin as the source of soft heat touched her. Then, it all got infinitely better. More warmth spread across her tummy and around her back, so that the warmth was holding her close - then, it moved again, and all of a sudden, blissful warmth was pecking at her chest, leaving tiny hot spots wherever it went. It moved about her breasts, tracing them and drawing her attention to all the most sensitive parts of them, forcing her to focus fully on their wonderful feeling. By the time it released her left nipple and slithered from the material keeping them at bay, they felt positively afire with wonderous warm pleasure.

And then that warm touch went lower, lower, lower - until she felt it scratch the apex of her thigh and turn, pulling inwards, drawing lightly towards a portion of her body that was just that much more tender and sensitive. Her inner thigh screamed with tingling sensation as the warm mass drew up its length, but something altogether more needing took president over it as she felt that warmth approaching her body.

A few moments later, two warm points materialised either side of her opening, and she felt their pressure ever so slightly adjust her inner edge, moving her opening, drawing her attention to it and the delicate wetness within. An involuntary shudder rippled through her whole body as she felt that opening now, felt those two warm points slowly tracing it, felt the way her skin moved beneath their contact. The fingertips were rough but also soft, as if powerful fingertips were being smoothed out by lubrication, and though she couldn't recognise it, she knew instinctively that it was her own wetness that was helping those fingertips to slip around the hem of her pussy. She was wet, she knew without the words or thoughts to describe it; aroused, ready for intercourse. Her body wished for this, wanted to copulate. It was willing, ready, and needy.

Sadie hyper-fixated on the sensation as those two warm pinpoints worked around her womanhood, tracing it, stimulating her outer edge until she practically needed to feel them enter her or would have to tear herself away from overstimulation. As if it knew, at that precise moment, the fingertips adjusted themselves, and suddenly a flowing blanket of warmth closed over her whole space, touching from upper edge to perineum, soothing her heated body, cupping her shape. For a few minutes, Sadie couldn't stop the soft, shaking jerks that echoed through her as the stimulus from before it worked through her, but she quickly settled into the intimacy of this contact and found herself quite liking the soft, private contact keeping her womanhood beneath its warmth - save only for one thing.

She was horny. Desperately so. Despite the settling outsides and docile response to his touch, Sadie's insides churned with desire and screamed into the void that was her mind to be filled. It was as though her pussy had a mind of its own and was demanding she put something filling inside it so that it could squeeze and shake and suck it deep until it exploded, and Sadie would have gladly grabbed the exposed cock resting atop her hip not an inch away from her opening and crammed it inside her until the man at the other end started to pump her full of it had she been mentally present enough to think up the idea. But, tranced deeply as she was, Sadie could only exist in the moment, and in that instant, a needy yet soothed desire filled her from head to toe.

Then, the middle fingers of the hand cupping her womanhood departed from their companions, and suddenly her walls were parting as they slipped gloriously inside. Moaning without realising it, Sadie's mouth flopped open as the digits suddenly entered her body, her pliant form making no move to resist or assist them as it lay at her date's mercy, her slicked opening parting far, far too easily ahead of their penetration, almost as if it were welcoming them inside with wide-open doors.

He smiled as he saw Sadie's body react to the penetration, even as his cock pulsed beside his arm, desperate to be the one doing the penetrating into the warm depths of her body. He revered in her empty pleasure, knew that whatever she displayed, whatever outward reaction to his work she showed was her direct, natural reaction, devoid of any filtering and reassessment in her unneeded brain. This was real sex, real intimacy; there was no intention, no expectations, not unspoken desire or unwanted labour for the sake of someone else's advances. No, this was all Sadie's true reaction, her body's actual needs on full display, and her body was now at the point where it was moaning and moving beneath his motions. He kissed her neck, sampled the saltiness of her skin. If he'd had the free hand to do it, he'd have liked to turn her head so that he could kiss her lips - but he saved himself that treat for the main act, which was rapidly approaching, he knew - his throbbing cock, gently leaking pre-cum lubricant onto the soft skin of Sadie's hip, demanded it.

Sadie revelled in the penetration, her brainlessness helping to enhance the feel of the hand curling into her body. For a few minutes, she was lost there, not thinking, not feeling, even that tiny corner of her brain silent as it was drowned out in the pleasure. She pulsated, tensing and contracting, her insides rippling as her soaked walls tried to draw the fingers deeper, to drag them to where they could press against every tender, needy spot inside her. They were just pressing into her tender g-spot and dragging a groan of bliss from her open mouth when the hand, and its wonderful fingers, withdrew, leaving Sadie's body cold and empty but hot with desire. Her face clouded slightly, something of a frown peaking her eyebrows, and the look only darkened further as she felt the warm mass wrapped up tight beside her move and lift away, leaving the rest of her skin cold and alone.

But it was only for a few moments, for shortly after she felt him leave her, Sadie was rewarded with something infinitely better. The heat returned, but now, it was directly atop her, and with that warm mass came something else pressing at her needy opening, something thicker and longer than the hand that had come before it, something she welcomed inside her with whole-hearted readiness. As the warm body closed in above her, she felt it slipping against her folds, the thick tip passing between them as it descended, instantly finding and settling into the groove that was her entrance. Then, with a shudder, he settled atop her body and she felt hands encircling her, wrapping her up tight, moving over her skin. She felt that was the extent of his contact, that he would hold her there as he penetrated her, but his hands moved around her back as if searching for something, scrambling and shifting until with a popping release, Sadie's bra came free. A second later, it was being torn from her body, her arms allowing it to slip away as her bosom fell free, immediately joining the rest of her body beneath his comforting weight as he lay atop her, her breasts pressed, hugged, soothed and stimulated.