At first it seemed ridiculous, all these theatrics just in the interest of getting off. The kneeling, the intimations about tonight all day long -- no, all week long -- the nudity, the darkness, the classic B-grade spiral on screen. Was she horny? Yeah, fucking for sure. Was it all a little over the top just to get them both off?
Well...
Fiona had thought so ever since her partner, Manon, had suggested it. "Why can't we just get some cuffs and rope?" she'd suggested to her once fuck-buddy, now full-on girlfriend. "Because that's not what it's all about," she'd replied as they'd talked on the bench outside their university. "It's not about the sex, it's about the control, the power, and the helplessness."
"And about you perving on me more," Fiona had replied, elbowing Manon in the side. She laughed and moved away from the jab. "Why would I need to hypnotise you to do that, when I could do it right here, right now?" she'd said. Then she'd proceeded to kiss Fiona, using it as a distraction so that she could slip her hand over her thigh. When the kiss ended, Fiona felt the fingertips sliding inwards, moving deeper and deeper, and she had to react fast to bat them away. "Manon!" She'd giggled, but Manon just acquired a new target at the front of Fiona's shirt and gone for the squeeze. The pair had fought playfully for a while before, somewhat unsatisfactorily, having to return to their lectures.
Now here they were. Two weeks later it was a thing. It occurred to Fiona only now that she was here, kneeling on the soft carpet, naked, the laptop positioned perfectly right before her, watching the multi-coloured spirals dance and weave about on the screen before her that she'd never
actually
discussed who was going to be the hypnotised or the hypnotiser with Manon -- they'd both sort of just assumed it would be her. Thinking now, she wondered if that was because she had a naturally submissive attitude in bed, or just if Manon had a kink for mind control.
Still, she continued to watch, waiting patiently for something to happen. She followed the core of the spiral as it moved slowly across the monitor, tracking it as it waved back and forth in an almost agonisingly slow figure-8 around the screen, generating endless rolling circles of colour that fanned out and rushed past Fiona on all sides as if she were travelling down an unending electric tunnel on LSD.
She almost didn't notice it when Manon's hands touched her back. Blinking, she realised that the warm, oiled pair had already begun to spread the stuff across her shoulders and upper back before she'd even realised it.
Probably because she's warmed it up for me,
she thought as she returned her attention to the screen to continue waiting.
She's good to me like that.
Initially, it had been a dating app match. Two chicks with messy hair, one black, the other blonde. Two chicks who smoked, although both had wanted to quit. Two chicks with boyfriends they didn't like, one from school, one from their friends group. Two chicks who faked their big Os and who didn't really enjoy their male counterpart's company.
They had been seeing each other on the side for about two months when Coby found out. It had been mutual -- sex only, no conversations. They'd meet at one of their places, get it on, and go home. Just enough to get off. Then it happened. It had started, as all good breakups do, with a text -- a slightly too damp-pantied-Manon had gotten a little thirsty and texted something a little slutty, but because they'd used codenames in each other's phones, Coby had thought it was another boy. He got mad, stormed out. Turned out one of his friends had recognised how he'd described Fiona and asked around -- a week later, she'd found herself dumped, via text.
He'd changed his Facebook photo from the one with her in it to one with a skimpy blonde a few days later, sealing the deal. After that, Fiona and Manon had started seeing each other more and more, until within two weeks of Fiona's dumping, they were basically staying together. Neither of them really ever discussed it -- not a relationship, their sexuality, or even their residence. Fiona would just turn up at Manon's, and she'd always let her in -- or Manon would call Fiona and pick her up from work.
Now they were well and truly in together, and as far as gay couples went, they were one. They had lunch together, hung out in the city on weekends, and regularly got it on at home -- to far greater effect than either of their past boyfriends ever had. Within a few months, they were going to sex shops together and shopping for ways to spice things up even further. They actively showed their romance off in public, and Fiona had moved out of her tiny apartment.
Leaning into the warm, soothing hands, Fiona barely realised she was still gazing at the screen. She'd blanked out for a while, deep in thought, and moulded by Manon's expert touch into a safe, blissful place mentally. She refocussed to find the spiral still going and the earphones still in her ears, Manon's fingertips still sliding lubricated over her skin.