The sun had risen and lit up my bedroom when I opened my eyes. After taking a moment to collect myself, I looked over at my phone to find the battery had died. My earbuds were dead too.
The memory of what I had done to myself came back to me. On one level, I did not intend for it to go this way. I was worried that, after a night of repeated trance suggestions, I had totally warped my brain. If what I had read on the erotic hypnosis sites was true, the instructions would be pushed deep into me by now, and I would have started to be conditioned by them.
While I was worried, the idea also thrilled me. I smiled unceasingly as I thought about it. Something about the risk of having my very being melted and replaced with something barely more than a toy brought an intense grin to my face. I was already unable to resist Mark. Now, I thought that any small cracks in my complete surrender would be gone. Somehow, that made everything better.
I spent the majority of the morning and afternoon doing mundane tasks. After our date, I thought perhaps we would come back to my place, so I wanted to clean and restock the fridge. Then, I spent copious amounts of time in the shower on a seek-and-destroy mission to remove every stray body hair I could find.
After I had spent time sufficiently primping, I put in my newly charged ear buds and queued up the file on repeat again. This time, though, I set a one-hour timer on my phone so that it would interrupt the mp3 file. I held my breath when I pushed play, since I was not completely sure that the interruption would snap me out of my trance. But I was no longer capable of being risk averse.
When I looked at the clock, it turned out to be about an hour and 15 minutes later, which meant that the alarm had been buzzing in my ear buds for 15 minutes before I was able to get past the hypo-fog and become aware of my surroundings.
So, naturally, I did it again.
Time passed and soon I was as primped as I could be and ready for my date. I had no real idea what to expect. Would he *zap* me the moment he saw me? Or would he tease me all night with it, holding it just out of reach? Would it matter? After my latest training, would I just drop to my knees uncontrollably, whether he expected me to or not?
I had texted him to ask what to wear, unsure of whether I wanted him to pick my clothing (or lack of clothing) for him. He indicated that he was unfamiliar with my wardrobe -- true of course -- but that I should be "business casual" or a slightly more relaxed version of it.
So I picked out my best matching bra and pantry set -- well, frankly, I only had one, really. It was pink cotton. I had never been inspired to dress like a stripper.
I had almost forgotten the outfit I wore for Carl's birthday - -black, silky bra, thigh highs with a black garter and tear-away, black lacy panties. But, unfortunately, the tear-away panties had torn away badly, and were unwearable. And the outfit seemed presumptuous. I needed to learn what he liked before I took this much initiative. Worse, it held memories of Carl.
So, I settled on the pink set with a loose summer dress and some casual flats, and the jacket I had left at the bar that started my whole adventure.
I spent an infinite amount of time worrying that it was too sexy. Or not sexy enough. Or too casual. Or not submissive. Or not flattering. I was changing my mind for the hundredth time when the doorbell rang and I realized he had come to get me.
I had butterflies in my stomach.
That may seem like a small thing, but it was the first time since high school that I had felt this. And this was far more intense. I was torn between wanting to fix my hair one more time and rushing to the door like a puppy greeting her owner, which, in a way, I was.
I tried to look calm when I opened the door, but he looked...well... so very good. His open collared tan oxford hugged his tight chest and bought out the deep brown in his sexy eyes.
I don't even remember what I mumbled when I looked at him. I am sure it was something lame. And I certainly was blushing for no apparent reason.
As it turned out, he was good to his word. He had said he wanted to treat me like a princess and he did. Everything from opening his car door for me to complementing my outfit -- he remembered the jacket of course -- to suggesting what to order at the restaurant made me feel special. As it happened, he explained that he even chose the restaurant for me, remembering my preference for certain foods and matching them up with one of the specialties he had tried on a prior visit.
Another thing happened that I did not expect. As aroused as I was -- and I was!! -- the date was anything but awkward. Almost instantly, we fell into an easy conversation that lasted all evening, and, again true to his word, was not about hypnosis or sex or erotic submission. I had been nervous, since the last time he saw me, I was topless and kneeling. But my nerves were unfounded. His easy humor and graceful confidence put me at ease.
We talked like old friends, which we were. But we looked at each other like lovers.
After dinner, he held the door open for me at the restaurant on the way out, which was such a Mark-thing that he would do for anyone, but somehow made me feel proud to be seen with him. I caught the glaces of the waitresses and thought I detected a bit of envy in their eyes. Perhaps it was just my imagination. But it made me beam.
Rather than going back to his car, we went for a long walk, where he held my hand.
It was only when he started to slow and lead me into an apartment complex that I realized he was planning to take me to his place. It occurred to me that I had previously had no idea where he lived.
He was ever the gentleman. When we go close to his building, he indicated that he had prepared a special dessert and some wine and asked if I wanted to come up to his place.
"By dessert, do you mean DESSERT, or just dessert?" I asked teasingly.
"Chocolate mouse."
"Ohhhhhh that is the 2nd best dessert I can imagine! Almost as good as what I had in mind."
We laughed.
His place was clean and pleasant, but it looked, as he had said, like a temporary rental -- antiseptic, plain and with no special nuances that make a place special.
But the mousse was spectacular. And the wine -- well, as i had mentioned, I am a girl who likes her wine.
We shared a spoon as we sat close together on the sofa to eat. And it was so cute the way he would feed me sometimes.
I was still aroused. And yet, I don't think I had ever felt so completely comfortable anywhere.
