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The party had canapés. Canapés. What the fuck was I doing here? You always dragged me along to these things, even though you knew they made me feel out of place.  In fact I think that’s why you did it - so you could feel out of place with me instead of getting sucked into the phoney airkissing and smiling backstabbing.

I poked at some food, it was probably some kind of vegan cheese.  I wished they just had some chicken drumsticks, but these kind of parties never did. I sighed and drank my organic sparkling wine.

Suddenly someone grabbed my arm, a flash of shaggy hair, a whirlwind of words, “Jesus Freaking Christ - you have to come talk to these guys, they’re ludicrous!”

I shuffled behind you hesitantly.  We were pretty similar on the surface, people could tell that we were mates, but there was just something that allowed you to slide into any group while I felt on the outskirts.  You were bright colours, sparkle, cascading music; I was faded sepiatone, murky shadows, doomy droning.

I made a few awkward introductions, not really grasping what all the excitement was about. They just seemed like a bunch of stoned hipsters, not even that cute. I raised my eyebrows, but you just gave me a ‘be patient’ look.

No one was really talking to me, I was starting to get bored and was ready to wander off, when someone shouted out some meaningless jumble of letters, and like a ripple it spread through the group.  Chanting their cult-like mantra, their eyes glazed over, as if the word gave them a comfort blanket high.

I caught your glance, you were grinning madly. I walked to the bar quickly, not able to trust myself not to blurt out something I’d regret.

“Another one, ta,” I heard you behind me.  I drank my glass down and got another immediately.

“What the fuck is up with those morons? And why are you hanging out with them?” I hissed at you.

You seemed hurt that I didn’t understand. “But... they’re so... mindless!”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Fuckssake, you can’t just poke at the retards, you’re better than that.”

Your face went dark. “Look, they started it, I just went over to say ‘hi’ to a girl I knew, then that annoying one in the Fugazi T-shirt started talking about wannabes who look freaky to cover up their middle-class guilt, staring at me the whole time.”

I knew what this meant. You were going to get revenge in your own inimitable way.  “Shall I go home and leave you to it?” I asked, trying not to show my emotions.

“Fuck no!” You wrapped your arm around my waist and pulled me back to the group. “I need your help.”

This sounded ominous.

I watched you work on Fugazi, your ability to charm was spectacular, I’ve seen you take someone from hating you to number one fan in half an hour.  Your target seemed to be resisting somehow, I suspected it was through idiocy rather than willpower: grinning smugly, expecting everyone to be desperate with desire anyway.

Somehow though, you got through the barriers enough to get a snog, probably an ironic one that was being drafted into a terrible poem immediately, but I could tell that wherever the mind was, the body was responding.  Your tongue was soft and persuasive in every way, and was sending subconscious messages to say that it would be just as skilfull on other parts of the body.

Soon it was over. The three of us got a cab.

When we got home, I tried to go to my bedroom and block it all out, but you ushered me into your room instead.  I sank into a chair, ruefully reflecting on how little free will I'd had all night.

Your conquest was playing it too cool to show any embarrassment at me being in the room while you got to work.  I was used to playing gooseberry to some extent, but this seemed like it might go somewhere new. I hoped you weren't planning a threesome, although I had to admit that the idea was a little intriguing, despite my revulsion for the third party.

Soon you were both oblivious to me, your mouth working between Fugazi's legs. I tried to push my jealousy down, watching the tableau like an artistic video: your fragile, pale skin contrasting with the darker tones of the body you were pleasuring; the rhythm of your  hair moving like wind on waves; luxurious arousal.

I still couldn't work out why you were doing this, I knew you liked to win people over, but this seemed a bit extreme. It was hard for me to enjoy the free porn when I felt as if you were being taken advantage of.

The urge to escape rose up again, but you chose that moment to move, hand replacing tongue to keep your guest docile, but now kneeling up to look at me.  I shivered.  There was something nihilistic in your eyes. I wouldn't have been surprised to see you reach for a knife.

Maintaining eye contact with me, you started to tease and pinch your victims nipples through the fabric. The moans that resulted were not displeased.  I heard myself joining in under my breath. You seemed to be transmitting your actions remotely, I felt every dig of your nails or torturous breath on the neck.

I was panting slightly, but the noise was easily drowned out by the sounds of desire coming from the bed. I was surprised at how passive you had made your partner, all bravado was washed away, no attempts to take charge of things, just a desperate need for whatever you gave.

I couldn't quite see what was going on, my gaze still locked onto yours, but I felt my own fantasies overtaking me, all the things I longed for you to do to me seemed to be exactly what you were doing now.

I lost track of time, the eternal moment of licking, biting, sliding, fists, restraint, edging, hard, slippery, delicate, brutal, endless, endless wanting.

We all seemed to be on the brink of something when you slowed things down to the bare minimum required to keep the tension up.  This resulted in some of the most pitiful whining I've ever heard.

You chuckled, cruelly but with a fair amount of disinterest thrown in. "Do you want me to let you come?"

"Fricking Hell, of course I do!" came the panicked response.

Your voice took on that tone that seems to buzz deep inside your head.  It was impossible to resist.  "Then I think you need to ask me nicely."

"Uhhh... please? Please can I come?"  I couldn't believe how pathetic the smug hipster sounded. I'd have laughed if I wasn't so turned on myself.

Your lips were the focus of everyone in the room.  "What will you do in return?" they asked sweetly.

"Anything! Anything you want!" I heard  true desperation.

"Good," you'd won. " Then remember this: you're just about to have the best orgasm of your life. Every time you come from now on, you'll know that it's a pale imitation.  That the only time you ever felt bliss was with me..."

The recipient of this barrage was too far gone to resist.  Your every word sank into a mind open and ready to receive instruction.

"...and this will be the thought that haunts you," you continued, "you'll know that you repulse me, and the only way I could keep up this charade was to pretend I was doing all this to my friend over there."

Something broke.  Both of you were watching me and I could feel a strange energy overtake us.  I should have been shocked at how evil you were being, but this all seemed perfect and necessary.

Your hand sped up to an irresistible rhythm but something else was needed. Words rose up in me. My mouth spoke with your voice.  "You can come, you worthless piece of shit."

We were immediately obeyed, the ecstasy helplessly spilling out like waves of lifeforce and I could see you feeding off it. You were radiant as you performed your dark magic, and I knew that your hooks were in place forever.

Once it was over we barely noticed as the visitor left shamefaced, you were still high on power and I couldn't muster any response other than silent awe.

You slumped back on your bed, and I ached to join you.  As if you knew, you patted the space beside you. "Come on, idiot, you need to be over here now."

I thought I'd hesitate, but I was laying next to you in a heartbeat.  For a long time we just looked at each other.  You reached out and stroked my hair, it was painfully sweet, but I couldn't get the thought out of my mind that you might just be playing with me as well.  I felt tears well in my eyes.

"Hey!" you chided softly, "What's up?"

I tried to breathe normally.  "It's just all a bit... confusing. I don't really know what's going on any more."

"Ah... don't worry about it, just do what feels right."

That was the trouble. What felt right was to worship you, surrender myself, give you my soul.  Yet, I knew I should challenge how you'd behaved.  "I didn't know you could be so cold," was the compromise that came out.

Your eyes flashed. "Yes you did."

I didn't know how to take it.  Sure, your blog was filled with plenty of dark stuff, and I'd heard you say some harsh things about people you'd got off with, but I still felt as if a curtain had been torn open. Perhaps what I really meant was that I was shocked by my own capacity for coldness.

Slowly, in case I freaked out, you put your hand between my legs, checking my level of arousal with a faux-scientific air.  Your look said it all.  Fuck it, we were both drawn to shadowy places, we may as well accept it.  Emotional pain was a heady aphrodisiac when done right, and you seemed to be a virtuoso.

There was something about you that made things fine, as if the normal rules didn't apply. You looked as beautiful and benign as a saint while you found all my weak spots like a demon.  I stopped fighting, gave in to the siren call of your soft lips, and sank into a warm lake of pleasure. I finally understood your supernatural effect on everyone you kissed.

Eventually you moved your head away, and chuckled as I tried to follow. "Shh... don't worry, just let me make you feel good."  You moved on top of me, gently holding my arms down, watching to see if I minded, although you must have been fully aware that it would just make my breathing get heavier, my eyes half close, and my groin start to grind.

"Just relax, stay like that," you murmured, and although you were no longer restraining me, I couldn't move even if I'd wanted to.  I'd thought your remote seduction earlier had pushed all my buttons, but now you were rewiring my erogenous zones: the insides of my elbows, the sides of my waist, my ankles, making every inch of my body sing. I felt woozy, trippy. My sensations were multiplied and I had a dreamlike feeling of floating, no thoughts, no cares, only your touch.

Soon it became apparent you were homing in, slowly, slowly nipping and caressing your way up the inside of my thighs. There was a breathless pause and then your hot mouth made everything else become irrelevant.

Whenever I try to describe the experience, my mind whites out again, but I do remember the feeling of your burning gaze calling me back into real time, I opened my eyes and had the image happily seared onto my retinas forever.

You slowed, took your mouth away and I groaned.  I couldn't say I hadn't been warned of your taste for control in this area, but it felt very different when I was the one being denied. Before I could regain the power to think straight, you started to stroke up and down, maddeningly slowly, leaving me strung out and barely able to register what you were saying.

"I was just wondering something..." you said casually, "just as a little game...  if only one of us could come tonight, who would you choose?" Your question sounded so innocent, but left me reeling.  I assumed this wasn't just hypothetical, and you'd waited until every cell in my body wanted me to make the selfish choice.

A lot seemed to be riding on this, for me at least.  I drew on the secret core that had sustained me through all the times when I had to disguise my yearning. It was time to show you how I felt.

I sat up, slid away from your grasp and knelt on the floor looking up.  "You. Always." I pulled you towards me and devoted myself to your pleasure. In serving you I found a kind of calm strength, my actions were smooth and certain, and you responded to them with a charming mixture of noble magnanimity and naive glee.

The sensation of my mouth on you was deeply erotic in itself, I seemed to share what you were feeling, and you me, as if we were so in tune that we were just one unbounded creature fucking itself eternally.  Barriers melting away in primal licking, sucking and worship.

I could have carried on forever, but your fingers tightened on my shoulders and I knew you were close. I glanced up at you mischievously, considering copying your cruel example, instantly realising it was not an option. I became a puppet, moving only as you willed it, completely guided by your needs, my subconscious somehow picking up what you wanted me to do without me needing to intervene.

When you came, I felt a gratification I hadn't experienced before, I was satisfied that I'd done my job well even though my own desire was pulsing and wishing it could join you. Once your breathing slowed and you loosened your grip, I stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next.

You smiled in a friendly but distant way.  "Wow! That was so great, thanks! You'd better go to your room though, or the others will think it's weird."

I was crushed, but a part of me had been expecting this.  I often though sex was just a bit of fun for you, no more meaningful than any other interaction.  I knew you cared for me as a friend, and I should just be grateful that you'd let me have the experiences we'd shared.

"OK, night then," I muttered as I turned to the door.

You bounded between me and the exit before I got there. "Oh my God! Are you kidding?"  You seemed genuinely upset I'd believed you. Your expression was oddly fragile, pupils enlarged, lips trembling in a slight pout.

I frowned, confused at the mixed signals I was getting.  "Look, I don't mind you using me for your games, I just... I need to know where I stand, I can't keep... hoping..." I blurted out, too fried to be diplomatic.

"Hoping?" You reached up and ran your thumb over my lips almost absent-mindedly, while you considered what I'd said. "Do you really like me that much?"

I nodded sadly, trying to resist the urge to take your thumb in my mouth and forget about everything else.

You smiled crookedly, and whispered. "Me too."

Our clothes came off with nervous fumbling, but neither of us cared, all that mattered was getting back into bed and fucking each other into oblivion.

I'd describe it, but every time I try my mind just whites out.

Ennui

"You're just too easy." Margaret sneered. Her young red haired companion was panting at something that she'd just whispered in her ear.

Kristin blushed, she couldn't help the effect these things had, even though she was pretty sure her friend wasn't really into her.  Perhaps it made it more effective, as she could just calmly identify which buttons to push to get the desired response.

Not to say that the older woman didn't get a kind of pleasure out of seeing the power she had, it just always seemed to be tinged with annoyance, or disappointment, and Kristin was never sure why.

The beer garden was full, but they could have been on their own, there was a pulsing current going between them that made everything else seem irrelevant. Margaret twisted her dark, curly hair round her finger, and seemed to be considering her next move.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, just block everything else out," she used that special tone of voice, the one that made Kristin turn to liquid.

The redhead immediately stilled, her eyes defocused, her mouth hung open cutely.  Margaret wasn't really hypnotising her, but there were enough cues to send her into a trancey state, mainly because her own body wanted to go there so much.

"Now, we both know that you're a good girl, nice and compliant..."

Kristin shivered, and nodded, wide eyed.

"So that means that you want to please me, right?"

"Yes, Mags, of course."

"Very good." Her eyes glittered, her voice changed. "So why don't you?"

The young woman's face went white.  "W-what do you mean?"

"Why. Don't you. Please me?" Margaret was cold and dispassionate, she sounded as if she was explaining something to a child that she didn't much like.

Kristin just didn't know how to respond, her lip trembled and there were tears welling in her eyes.

The other woman frowned, "it's a simple question. Do you even know what would please me?"

A frantic shake of the head, blushes, contrition. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think I could... I never thought..."

A dark chuckle. "No, you didn't think did you, you never do."  She seemed to be enjoying the other girl's pain. "I can tell you what I don't enjoy, I don't enjoy someone who turns into a drooling zombie at just a few words,"

Kristin gasped, she didn't think she was particularly a pushover, "So... you want me to fight you more?"

"Sheesh, you just don't get it do you, how would that help? There's nothing more boring than someone who chats back, who think they know best. That's just being bratty."

The tears had come in earnest.  The redhead didn't even try to wipe them away, just let them roll down her cheeks in thick, hot rivulets.  How had things gone from some fun head games to this? She felt as if the glimpses of satisfaction she'd been able to glean from their friendship had been taken away from her. She had nothing left.

Margaret leaned over and caught a tear, then tasted it.  She looked alive for once.

Late Night Tales

We were both so tired that every blink could have taken us to sleep, but we still hung onto the edges of consciousness, laying on the comfortable rug, listening to fuzzy, flowing music and absently stroking each other from time to time.

In the low light, his eyes were almost black, I let my gaze fall into them, barely noticing time pass. Every now and then we spoke in voices that were quietly thick with longing.  There's something about the way people talk late at night, it's like a dream, like the words are coming up unfiltered from the unconscious, and I found myself just letting my thoughts flow wherever he led them.

I chuckled gently, "You'd better watch what you say, I'm pretty much in a trance right now..."

"Mmm," he pressed a little closer into me, "I'd be a fool not to take advantage then, wouldn't I?"

I enjoyed the fluttering feeling his seductive threat had created in my belly, I'd probably hoped for him to respond with something like that, but I still felt scared.

He murmured something so softly, I didn't hear it, my barriers couldn't even register it enough to fight, I just felt myself start to slip away.

I could hear my breathing change, from lightly aroused and fast, to the deep, slow breath of sleep, and yet, I felt more awake if anything, completely focused on him. "Do you really want to do this now?" I asked, with some effort.

His fingers played with my hair, twisting my thoughts away, "Shh, don't worry, everything's fine."

Even in a normal state, those words, in that tone of voice, would have soothed me instantly. Half asleep already, it was like pure peace flooding warmly through my veins.  He was doing something to send me down but I couldn't work out what it was, I just gave up and enjoyed the feeling, like cotton wool wrapping me up, like warm liquid bathing my mind, like tongues lapping every erogenous zone.

"Look at me," he whispered, "it's OK, you don't have to wake up, just open your eyes."

They had drifted shut at some point, and I dragged them open, still unfocused. I suppose it was so he could enjoy seeing my helpless entrancement.

"Good girl," the words had their usual effect on my arousal anyway, but he increased it with a peaceful stroking of my clit, "now, as you sink deeper into sleep, you know you get more turned on, but of course, as you get more turned on, you sink deeper into sleep.."

The spiral was familiar and comforting, and I accepted it easily. Part of me was trying to send up a red flag, but I couldn't really understand why, something about it being strange for him to be pushing me so far when I was already utterly compliant.

"Good, yes, all the way down... This feels so amazing, doesn't it? Just drifting, letting me guide you, doing whatever I suggest without thinking about it..." his voice was like velvet, but it just made my niggling warnings all the more insistent.

"mmm..." I heard myself not caring about the warnings.

"That's right, just sinking, so easy... now let me suggest something...." here it came, "you remember how we decided that because you enjoy this so much, you wanted me to be able to bring you back here easily?"

"mmm..." (easily and whenever he wanted)

"Well, perhaps you'd like me to be able to give you other things that you enjoy... imagine how good it would be if you could come for me anytime... anywhere..."

I started breathing heavily, partly from arousal, partly from emotional conflict. This was something we'd discussed before, and while it was super hot to imagine have an orgasm trigger, I wasn't sure I was ready to accept it for real.

He could see I was struggling and waking a little, so he stroked my brow reassuringly, not letting up on my clit with his other hand though. "Shh, safe and calm, it's just a suggestion..."

I relaxed instinctively, I knew my subconscious would only accept his suggestions if I was ready for them, but then he had taken advantage of my being extra tired, and going extra deep... still, the warning voices seemed to be weaker, getting washed away as my horniness built.

He was quiet for a bit, letting me be lulled by his touch "... although it is such a sexy idea isn't it..."

I moaned and writhed, he was making this sound so reasonable.  I couldn't really remember what was wrong with the idea anyway, all the other triggers he'd given me were fairly flexible, he'd never intentionally use them inappropriately, but if he accidentally did, I could resist them if I needed to.

"Baby, stop trying to think about this, you'll only make yourself more tired..." he was so clever with his voice, going right to the parts of my mind that just wanted to trust someone who sounded like they knew better than me. "It's really much easier if you just see things my way."

Something in me gave up fighting. I breathed out, sighing away my will, "yes, I see now, I see..." it felt really good.

He grunted happily and I was rewarded with a change in the movements of his fingers, going from a potentially endless circling, to something that was going to pull me inevitably to orgasm.  "Good girl, focus on the pleasure, that's all you have to do, just focus on how good this feels, I'll do everything else..."

I remember coming hard, the words he said fucking me so perfectly I kept going for what seemed like eternity, but then it was just real sleep that rose up to fill the space left.

I woke in bed, he'd got me there somehow, and I felt the warm satisfaction I usually did after we'd shared a night of closeness and control.

He opened his eyes when he heard me stirring, and smiled serenely.  "Morning, love. Want some breakfast?"

I nodded, still too dozy to speak.

He climbed out of bed, leaned back to kiss me, "Oh, and by they way...." he looked deep in my eyes and his mouth said something that I didn't hear. I was too busy being filled to the brim with the most incredible feeling, the bed dissolved into air and I was landing in pure bliss. It was as if that moment when you tip over into orgasm was extended, slowed down, stretched out, and I came with complete abandon.

He chuckled as he left the room.  Apparently my subconscious was just fine with his suggestion.

Babysitter

"Emmy!"

She stopped, the voice was familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Emily scanned the bar in the direction of the shout and saw a man waving frantically at her, and wandered over hesitantly.

"Em, it's me, fucking hell, you know, Abigail's brother!"

"Jonny? Oh my God!" She returned his hug warmly, slightly embarrassed when she noticed an attractive and smartly dressed woman sitting next to him, regarding her suspiciously.

The man snorted when he noticed this. "Oh, don't worry about her." He waved his hand dismissively at the other woman without even looking at her, "fuck off now, pet, I've got something more important to do."

Emily started, but the pretty companion just flushed a little, looking excited if anything, as she silently collected her things and left.

He patted the vacated seat and she sat down without thinking. "Christ, Johnny! How could you talk to her like that?"

A flicker of embarrassment passed over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a wicked smile. "Oh, hmm, well she likes it when I treat her like crap."

Emily wasn't sure how to take this: last time she'd seen him, he'd been a kid leaving for university, all long hair and skinny jeans with holes in the knees. Now he was mature and confident, and seemed to be having the lifestyle they'd shared bright-eyed jokes about when they were growing up. She leaned over and whispered, "Is she your slave or something, Jonny?"

He laughed, "Sure, Em, one of them, and by the way, I prefer to be called Jon now."

"Not Sir Jon?"

He flicked a whip of a glance at her that made her feel uncomfortably chastised. "Not yet."

She couldn't seem to think of a retort, even though she'd always teased him mercilessly, so just shrugged it off as best she could. "Soooo... how's it going? You're looking great!"

He looked genuinely pleased, showing a hint of the boy she'd known, keen to impress her. "Oh, it's amazing, I've got a job with a little record label doing marketing, they seem to be going the right way, thanks to me of course," he winked, but she could believe it. He'd always had charm and enthusiasm to spare, and had apparently developed notable persuasive skills to match.

As they chatted about their work, Emily kept thinking about the look on the slave's face. She'd looked aroused, of course, but also at peace, almost shining, as if she was having a religious experience. What could her best friend's little brother have done to that sophisticated woman to make her submit so deeply?

The conversation lulled, and Jon looked at her sideways. "Go on, ask," he said.

Emily looked down, but a smile crept across her face, "Um... so, you have slaves now?"

He leant in conspiratorially, and she was very aware of his body against her, his heat invading her. "Slaves, submissives, pets, it's different for each of my girls."

She let out a sigh, now resigned to the fact that the boy she used to help with his homework was making arousal flare through her. "Can we just assume I gave you some chat about ethics and respecting women and move on to the 'Oh my God!'"

Jon chuckled, "Heh, it's not that big a deal, you know I've always been into stuff like this, you saw my bookshelf at home," and borrowed books and masturbated to them, "I met some people into it at Uni and realised that I can just see what someone needs and give it to them in a way that benefits me as well."

His casual tone made his words all the more affecting. What might he be able to use to manipulate her in the direction he wanted? "Erm, so, do you have a 24/7 thing with anyone?"

He looked away, retreated a little, "Eh, no, they're all pretty independent really, we just play around occasionally."

There was a long silence, as they both considered how much more to say. Eventually, Jon stood up and held out his hand. "Look, this is ridiculous, take me back to yours and I'll seduce you."

Emily laughed in surprise, but took his hand anyway. "Well, you can try, kid..."

He helped her into her coat and murmured in her ear, "No, you'll be easy, you just want to be hypnotised." She stumbled a little but he caught her.



Jon had been to her flat before, but it felt different this time. She was worried whether she'd left anything embarrassing out, but he wouldn't have cared, just started rifling through her CDs as usual. The odd mix of familiarity and strangeness made her uncertain how to behave.

Her guest seemed to sense this and beamed up at her. "Hey, Emmy, it's just me, you can trust me, I'm safe."

She chuckled and relaxed in her chair, before tensing again in case he was trying to soften her up.

He came and sat near to her, held her hand and looked seriously into her eyes. "I promise, I'm only going to do things you want me to, I just want to make you feel good."

She broke his gaze and looked down. "Oh, I know, it's just... scary."

He was stroking her hand rhythmically with his thumb, "it shouldn't be, it's not like I haven't hypnotised you before."

Her head shot up, "Huh? No you haven't!"

Their eyes locked again, this time he wasn't letting go. "Yeah, sure I have, you remember, when I used to babysit you."

"Wh-what? You've got that the wrong way..."

"Shh, Emmy, you're just tired and confused."

The flickers of pleasure in her groin that followed his words were indeed making it hard to think. It would be so nice to believe any reality he created for her, and this one was soft and appealing...

"It's OK, just let me explain it to you again," his stroking became a circling, slowing imperceptibly with every word, "deep down, you know I've been looking after you for years, just a little bit older and wiser, someone you look up to, to guide you, to keep you safe while you fall asleep..."

Her eyelids drooped, she was starting to feel like a sleepy little girl, he did seem older than her, a gentle authority figure.

"That's right, good girl, you won't be any trouble for me, will you? Deep down you know how much you enjoyed it when I swung those pretty pendants for you, sending you off into dreamland..."

Emily moaned, there was something so sick and hot about this, how could he possibly know all the right buttons to push? Such a dark, hidden little fantasy, she hadn't even admitted it to herself, but it was all rising to the surface, overflowing with pure need.

Jon slipped an arm under her knees and round her back. "Time for bed, sleepy Emmy, now hold on tight."

She did as she was told, feeling fuzzy and warm, as if she'd fallen asleep on the back seat of her parents' car. As she was laid on the bed, she seemed to sink forever, there were voices, hers and his, but she was too pleasantly drifty to make out what they were talking about. It didn't matter, she was safe with him looking after her, he was in charge, he'd always been in charge, deep down she knew that.