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My arse was plugged up tight, a softly buzzing vibrator pushed deep inside, echoing the matching one in my cunt. I would have felt humiliated, exposed in my hogtied position, kneeling, head down, with my arms bound across my chest, but the drugs coursing through my system made me feel too sleepy and compliant to care.

All I could do was fall into the pulsing, letting the waves of arousal build up, wiping out my mind until his hand on my behind didn't faze me at all, it just seemed to be part of this dreamy experience.

He stroked my smooth skin, caressing the soft curves of my backside firmly, making me feel vulnerable and protected at the same time. When I'd just had time to get used to it, to like the warmth of his touch, he took his hand away.

A sharp slap stung me in its place, making me feel ashamed without knowing why. In my fuzzy state, I couldn't separate out the feelings, and as he kept up a rhythmic spanking it just heightened my pleasure.

Softly, so softly, I started to lose control, moaning helplessly into the bed. As my shaking legs signalled my impending orgasm, he stopped spanking and let a hot spray of his spunk rain onto my body, pushing me over the edge.

Reborn

When they met she was beyond hope, trash, he found her in some seedy bar, drunk, talking to some guy who'd been topping up her glass, slurred and debasing herself. God knows what he saw in her, she just remembered him taking her arm, saying "Come on girl, time to get you home," and the other man's surprised expression.

She opened her mouth to give him some shit, but saw something in his eyes that made her hesitate, made her play along. "Hey, Daddy, what you doing down here?"

His eyes flashed with some cross between lust and amusement. "I came to find you, dear, when I saw you'd forgotten to take your medication, well..."

"Oh, silly Daddy, you know I'm a slut whether I take my medication or not." she smiled the brightest smile she had for a long time, and enjoyed the horrified look on the face of the loser she'd been talking to, as the new man dragged her away.

He pushed her up against his car, slid his hand up her skirt, slowly, so achingly slowly she felt herself shake with desire before he reached her wet knickers. His hand slipped inside them with no resistance; as he caressed the folds of her pussy for the first time, she just gazed hungrily at him as if he'd been doing this for years.

"It's a good job I came by, girl."

She tilted her head to the side, smiled "and why's that?"

"Because you need taking in hand."

"Mmm, promises, promises." she tried to sound confident, but his expert fingers were making her breath ragged, and her vision start to blur.

"I can see you've got something special in you," his hand pressed inside her as he said this, "but you've let yourself go, you've got lazy, slutty, cheap," these were punctuated with little pinches on her clitoris that made her gasp.

She wanted to disagree, to tell him she was just trying things out, seeing the world, but the look on his face told her he'd accept no argument. "Yes, sir," she blurted out without knowing why.

"You need someone like me to give you direction, to show you how a proper girl should behave."

She couldn't do anything but nod desperately at this point, his words were just a fuzzy background to her arousal, she'd agree to anything he wanted, so long as he kept touching her like that.

"You want to come back with me, let me train you."

"Yes, sir."

"Do whatever I say."

"Yes sir!"

"Obey me."

"Oh! oh! Yes sir! Yessss..." her pussy spasmed helplessly around his hand, which was so strong, and certain, and knowing, she just felt weak and fragile in comparison. She kept coming for an age, legs giving out, his grip on her sex the only thing holding her up, the only thing between her and the abyss.

"Good girl," he whispered and let her into his car.


---


The next morning she woke up in a clean, white bed, it felt like she belonged there even though she'd never seen the room before. There were books, CDs, DVDs and a player hooked up to a monitor, not hers, but with a kind of familiarity, as if they could have been hers in a different life.

She was dressed in a simple, pale silk gown, and had vague memories of him feeding her glasses of water as he stripped her and washed her, murmuring reassurances, making her feel safe and protected.

Her clothes and phone were nowhere to be seen, she tried the door and found it locked, a slight burst of panic gave way to acceptance surprisingly quickly. Someone didn't provide all this comfort for someone they planned to harm did they? She was grateful there was an en-suite at least.

She occupied myself for a while, playing some music and reading, oddly calm. Perhaps she should have felt like she'd been abducted, been trying to escape, but instead she felt like she was on holiday, she had agreed to this after all, albeit in a slightly coerced way.

Finally, the door was unlocked, without really knowing why, she quickly put aside her book and sat up primly. He smiled at her eager face, not showing whether he'd been wondering if she might be angry.

"Morning, girl, ready for a fresh start?"

"Yes, sir!"

His hand shot out and grabbed her hair, pulled her face towards his. "Don't fucking lie, bitch!" he spat at her.

Tears sprang to her eyes, she'd been ready for some nice cozy scene and he'd slapped her expectations to the ground. She didn't know what to say and just stood there awkwardly.

Then he stroked her face tenderly, the sensation felt all the more real in her raw emotional state, she hung onto the comfort it gave as he carried on caressing her, hands firmly rubbing the back of her neck, her shoulders, soothing her tense muscles.

She felt like she was hanging in a balance, breathing softly so as not to break the spell as his fingers lightly slipped over her breasts through the silk, the touch felt so smooth and soft that her chest pushed itself into his hands to feel more of this pleasure.

He chuckled and just drifted his attentions across her taut stomach, her behind, the skin yearning for sensation, tingling with desire as he moved onwards. Her pussy was aching, hot and wet, needing him to touch it so badly but there was nothing she could do. She looked at him with parted lips and wide eyes, begging him silently.

"There you go, now you're ready." He pushed her back onto the bed, spread her legs and knelt before her almost reverentially. He slowly moved the skirt up her thighs, revealing more and more of her pale skin. Time seemed to move differently, slowed down, but with every second filled with intensity.

He bent his head to kiss her mound, gently licking her clit, pressing his fingers inside her so easily. All the sensations blurred into one eternal, liquid wave, just building for ever, each ripple of pleasure setting off more and more in turn. Her thoughts were long gone, dissolved without her noticing.

She half realised that his thumb had taken the place of his tongue, and that he was kissing her, her own juices making his lips sweet, their faces crushed together hungrily.

"What do you need?"

"Fuck me!"

He took his hand away from her pussy abruptly and slapped her thigh. "No, try again, what do you need?"

Confusion filled her, she didn't know how to respond, didn't know what he wanted, she wasn't used to this kind of thing, couldn't predict him. "Er... Use me?"

Another slap, harder this time.

She searched his face, trying to see what he was looking for, but he wasn't giving anything away. "Train me?" she tried.

His hand returned to giving her a little pleasure, light touches, just making her ache for something more. "A bit better," he conceded, "but still not quite there."

She reached deep inside herself. What did she really want, what did she really need? He wouldn't be satisfied with the usual trite things that subs said to doms, this was something new, something real. She felt words come unbidden to her lips. "Save me."

He looked surprised, she wasn't sure what he was imagining, but that hadn't been it. However, he accepted her answer, recognising it's truth. He gently slid his cock inside her, every millimetre multiplying her arousal, making her feel helpless and safe at the same time. They fell into rhythm together, locking eyes, seeing something new, scary, but utterly desirable in the depths.

As they lost themselves in each other she felt washed clean, she felt reborn.

Faith

"You said you'd phone."

"Well, I didn't."

If anyone else had pulled this shit on me, I'd have been disgusted, called them unreliable, taken the high ground; but instead I just stood there, watching his unruffled demeanour, and felt my clit start to pulse.

There was no explanation, no apology. He knew there was no need for them, that I just had to accept it, and like it. All I could do was sit down at his feet, and say "OK."

He patted my head. "Good girl." Such a basic form of humiliation and reward, I was being conditioned like a dog. He knew that I saw all his tricks, and they just made me like him more. I'd always been longing for someone who I'd let treat me like this, someone who could find the sweet spot between trust and betrayal. I didn't expect he'd have been the one to tame me, but somehow he'd slipped past my defenses.

He went back to his reading. I didn't enjoy being ignored, but I knew I was doing what he wanted by suffering it, and that made me feel good, proud, aroused. After a while, I was granted something to occupy myself, he didn't look at me, but held out a finger of his left hand. I slid it into my mouth, suckling on it, feeling peace and contentment make my mind fuzzy. I lost track of how long I was there, but after a while, he stood up and I knew the games were starting in earnest.

"What have you been doing today?" He had a way of asking questions that chilled me: his tone of voice was so kind, almost soothing, but always pinpointing whatever I felt most guilty about at the time.

"Um, nothing really, just been doing some stuff online." We both knew what that meant. At best reading porn, at worst...

"Trying to get some sad fuckers to wank about you?"

I blushed and felt sick. It wasn't like that, I just liked chatting to people, but he knew that a small part of me worried about why I was doing it, some twisted, self destructive part of me, the part that he'd made friends with, the part he used against me.

I'm an emotional masochist, I don't seek after the traditional kinds of degradation and humiliation, but shoot the right pointed comment at my heart, one that finds my weak spots, and, damn, that's hot.

He sighed. "Now, we've talked about this before, you need to stop wasting your time, you're not getting any younger," he explained patiently. "You need to be getting a better job, you're not going to find anyone to support you at your age, you know."

My anger flared, there were so many things wrong with what he was saying, that all the conflicting emotions made me incoherent, "I don't... I'm not... that's so fucking out of order!"

His eyes glinted in triumph, I'd let myself down so early, so easily. He was getting too good at this. Gone were the days of calling me a slut, a tease, a desperate little whore. Things I was prepared for, that took hours of teasing and mind games before I snapped.

He said nothing but his expression clearly said 'you think you get to tell me I'm out of order?'

I was helpless with shame, this was going to be bad, but according to the unspoken rules, I knew I deserved a punishment. I braced myself.

Suddenly the left side of my face was on fire, my ear was ringing and I had a massive dump of chemicals racing around me. His hand had moved so fast, with so little warning that I had to guess it had been a sharp and precise slap causing the pain.

I just stood there in shock, and felt those heavy, hot tears start to roll down my face. His mouth twitched in delight as he watched them. I think he might have liked watching me silently cry more than anything else we did.

He was waiting for something. What could it be? Oh, of course. "Thank you, sir." I said contritely.

His hand brushed my sore cheek tenderly, so fucking tenderly that my tears burst forth stronger than ever. "There, that's better, isn't it?"

I nodded. He was right as usual, the overwhelming feeling of relief when I got to the other side was so pure, so untainted, that I was utterly addicted.

He slid his hand up my skirt, softly stroking me through my knickers. "Tell me why you're wet."

"Because I love this. Because I need your discipline. Because... I'm weak."

"Mmmm, good. Bedroom."

We screwed the same way we played head games, like music made with telepathic understanding, no plan, no script, just a perfectly timed ebb and flow.

He punctuated his fucking with gentle cruelty. "Frankly, you don't really need to be here, I'm only interested in your body, you can just fuck off, think about something else, or better yet..." he pulled my head back so he could hiss in my ear, "stop thinking altogether."

The combination of deep pleasure and relentless mindfucking meant I couldn't think even if I wanted to. I don't know he did it, every time was different, but he could somehow tell what would push me into that magic zone where everything fell away apart from him and me, where we were dark and golden.

I was moved around like a doll, I'd come to know his favourite positions and slipped into them smoothly with very little guidance, his hands could puppet me easily now. It didn't even faze me when I was turned completely around, pivoting on his cock, one minute rammed face down into the mattress, the next, legs over his shoulders gazing into the eyes that pierced my soul.

We were raw at times like this, all the bullshit ripped away. It wasn't about sub and dom any more, wasn't about pain and psychology, just need, awe, completion.

In the afterglow of another shining orgasm, I gazed at him lovingly, enjoying the moments I had while he was mellow and quiet. "That was incredible," I whispered, smiling hesitantly, hoping I'd done enough for the night.

My heart sank as I saw the light in his eyes change. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it, I didn't get that much out of it..."

"I don't believe you," I tried, but my voice wavered, the tears were back.

"Well, I just do it as a kindness, this isn't really my kind of thing."

I felt like an insect. "What do you mean?"

"Fuck, honey," he stroked my hair but there was no warmth in his touch, "it's all a bit... pointless isn't it? I don't want someone who has to try to please me, I want someone who doesn't need to be shown how to be a real woman. I mean I know it's all you can manage, but it's more of a charity thing for me."

"Stop it! I can't handle this!" I blurted out through my sobs, but he just narrowed his eyes at me, looked slightly disappointed.

"Really?"

My emotions were reeling, I felt like everything I held dear had been flayed to a pulp, but did I really need him to stop? I looked woozily at him, tears drying slightly, trying to see something to help me decide.

His gaze was cool and clear, no remorse, no concern, but also no anger or frustration. He was just waiting, watching, dispassionately interested in how I'd respond.

Of course, he'd never give anything away, he always played things absolutely for real, and to all intents and purposes it was real. I just had to take a leap of faith or admit that he'd beaten me.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I'm fine."

He smiled, and I saw a flicker of something sweet before he covered it up. It was beautiful. "Glad to hear it, you'll have to be punished, of course."

I hung my head. "Yes, sir." My hair hid my face, but I'm sure he could tell I was proud to be back in tune with him.

Bookish

Liz scanned the shelves in the Psychology section, as usual drawn there without really knowing what she was looking for. There were a few books on hypnosis, they didn't look very inspiring, but she wistfully ran her finger along them anyway, almost as if something would flow out of them and up her arm.

"That's the best one," said a voice behind her as she lingered on the one she'd been considering, "but the selection here's shit, you'd be better off buying online."

She turned to see a young man behind her, somehow wavering between looking like someone who'd know about hypnosis and someone who was just pulling her leg. He had an air of geeky intelligence, piercing green eyes, and a cheeky grin. She tried not to notice how sexy he was, she couldn't handle the disappointment of seeing her age reflected in the eyes of youth.

He weighed her up for a few moments, seeming to enjoy her discomfort at not being able to speak or look away. "Buy me a coffee and I'll write down some recommendations." He stated calmly, assuming she would do as he said.

"Do I know you?" she managed to stammer, not sure what was happening.

He chuckled, "Don't you know? Forget things a lot do you?" He winked, and she wasn't sure if she was being called old or a hypnofetishist. Either way, she felt her clit pulse at the dig. He held out his hand. "I'm Adam."

"L-liz" she said grasping his hand, half expecting it to turn into a speed induction, but he just shook it firmly and then rested his other hand on her elbow as he led her to the cafeteria.

She felt a little strange about what was happening, but she bought him a milkshake pretending to be a coffee, and was happy to sip her own Americano and watch him write a few books down on a napkin and natter about their relative merits.

He seemed very knowledgeable, and it felt good to be sitting with a pretty young boy, even if everyone probably thought she was his aunt or something. Eventually he stopped talking and spooned frozen milk into his mouth, licking it slowly and sensuously. She watched with her mouth open. He must know how dirty that looked, right?

"Um, how do you know all this stuff?" Liz asked to break the silence, and not a little to shake herself back to reality.

Adam waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, it's not that advanced, I've been doing it for years, anyone can learn it, you just need to practice applying it to each individual case."

"I've never been hypnotised," she said, her voice filled with yearning.

"Yet," he said calmly. "It would be so easy, I could do it right now if you wanted.

Liz breathed heavily. She felt lightheaded. Her heart pounded and it wasn't just from the coffee. "Please," she whispered.

"Well, just focus on this spoon, and let everything else fade away..."

Liz did as he asked, listened to his suggestions, let the world narrow to the shiny object in his hand. She was a little surprised there was nothing about feeling sleepy, but chastised herself for being so cliched, this wasn't a cheesy film, this was... wait, she'd lost track of what he'd been saying, what was she meant to be doing? Oh yes, that was right, sleep...

It couldn't be that easy could it? Was she really hypnotised? Adam was leaning back, pleased with himself, as if she was. Her head did feel fuzzy, she was staring vacantly at the point where the spoon had been, and didn't feel like doing anything else. Maybe this was what it felt like.

"Smile." came the command, and she felt her face move obediently. She idly noticed that she was aroused, and this increased as he told her to laugh, push her hair back, lean forward, hold his hand, each instruction followed perfectly without her needing to think about it.

"You're hypnotised."

"I'm hypnotised."

"You love how it feels."

"I love how it feels."

"You want to feel like this again."

"I want to feel like this again."

"You're a good girl."

"I'm a good girl."

He paused and smiled, narrowing his eyes, watching her coast on submissive arousal. "Good girls do what they're told."

She gasped, but heard herself repeat "Good girls do what they're told."

"You do what you're told."

"I do what I'm told."

"Follow me." he stood up and she did too, walking behind him through the store. Part of her was still marvelling at the experience, how normal it must look, but how firmly controlled she was. The rest of her was just.. asleep, obedient, aroused, subdued, compliant... She'd have been too turned on to walk if he hadn't been puppeting her.

Without her noticing, they'd entered a large individual toilet cubicle. He stood facing her for an indeterminate amount of time as she stared blankly at him. He seemed to be considering something, and she waited patiently for his decision, aroused and ready for anything.

He stroked her cheek kindly, then whispered "kneel," softly, almost reverentially.

She sank to the floor, eyes gazing glassily at his crotch while he opened his flies.

"Suck my cock."

She unhesitatingly wrapped her lips around its length, closing her eyes, enjoying the feel of it in her mouth, the focus, with no thoughts to distract her from her task of pleasuring him.

The rhythm of her sucking became her whole world, all she knew, his hands on the back of her head her only link to reality. It was peaceful and erotic, everything was so simple, so easy.

He started thrusting harder, and soon his come was pulsing down her throat. She swallowed and then knelt back, waiting for instruction.

He wiped himself off and put his cock away, then knelt down with her. He placed his hand to her sopping panties and looked deep into her eyes. "You've been a very good girl." She shivered and moaned softly. "Come for me now."

Liz ground herself onto his hand, fell forward onto him, and he held her close until she was done. She found she'd mostly woken up and looked shakily at him to see if it was allowed.

He smiled a little nervously, and she was suddenly aware of how young he was again.

"Wow, that was incredible," she said quickly, partly to reassure him, partly in hopeless gratitude.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with evil again, "Mmm, not bad for your first go, I'll have to push you harder next time."