Hypnofilm

helplesslyaroused:

“Thirsty, my dear? Let’s go ask the nice man at the lemonade stand for a drink. But first, give me your blouse.”

“Sir?” Her lips curl into a pout, eyes flicking between her shirt and his gaze, and then at the busy carnival, bright multicolored lights illuminating the bustling crowd around them. She shifts anxiously, the mere suggestion making her feel exposed and vulnerable.

He takes her hand and with one finger, draws three small circles on her wrist. On the first, she breathes out slowly; the second, her shoulders slump, and on the third, her eyelids flutter and she smiles dreamily back at him.

“That’s right, darling. Just relax. Good. It feels good when your body responds to me, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Suddenly, nothing matters but him, his voice, his warm hand still gently holding hers. The raucous scene fades, everything seeming so detached and far away. Unimportant.

“And because it feels good to respond, to obey, it feels even better when you do as I command.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you know I can make you do anything I want, whether you like it or not, so it’s much easier to enjoy obeying me.” He watches her face change, delights in the confused struggle between resistance and surrender. “And you know I’ll always keep you safe, don’t you?

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Now, your shirt, dear.” She obediently unbuttons her silk blouse, feeling it whisper against her skin as it slips off her shoulders, and hands it to him. He contemplates waking her from trance, but instead smirks and takes her hand, pulling her to the lemonade stand.

“What can I get you?” The man in the booth asks, after a brief pause to admire her exposed body, causing her to blush and bite her lip.

“I’d like a lemonade, please. But may I taste first?” Before the vendor can offer her a small sample cup, Sir interjects.

“She likes tasting things fresh. From the source.” He winks and glances at the lemons on display in the window. The vendor’s eyes widen, but he takes one and slices it open, offering it to her.

“She also likes to be on her knees when she tastes things. Don’t you, sweetie?”

“Oh… yes.” She kneels obediently on the ground, legs slightly spread, in the position she knows he enjoys the most. Eyes closed, mouth open, her wet, pink tongue slightly protruding. Behind her, Sir grins and motions for the vendor to squeeze it into her waiting mouth. A few drops land on her tongue, and her face scrunches adorably from the bitterness, but she does not shift position. Waiting, willing, obedient and eager. Perfect.

“Good girl. Now thank him, and tell him how good it tasted.”

(via hypnofilm)