Hypnosis roleplay

The thrill of his success was a potent ****, and Dejan was addicted. He had remade his girlfriend, sculpted her into his perfect fantasy, and now he wanted to see just how far that fantasy could stretch. The irony was a delicious, secret spice he kept to himself. He wanted to play with the very concept of her creation, to see if his puppet would dance to the tune of its own origin story.

One evening, as they were relaxing on the couch, her head resting in his lap, his fingers toying with the sapphire necklace, he decided to push.

"I have a new game I want to play," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial.

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Oh? A game? I love games." She traced a circle on his thigh with her fingernail. "What kind of game?"

"A roleplay game," he continued, his heart starting to pound with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. "You're my girlfriend, and you've been... stressed. Tense. And I'm going to hypnotize you to help you relax."

Hypnotize her? Lilith thought, a flicker of amusement in their shared consciousness. The audacity.

He wants to re-enact his greatest hit. How cute. He thinks he's in control, Eve purred, a wave of predatory delight washing over them. Let's play along. This is going to be fun.

"Ooh, hypnotize me?" she purred, sitting up and straddling his lap, her arms draping over his shoulders. The red lingerie she wore beneath her silk robe was a barely-there promise. "And what happens when I'm under your... power?" She wiggled her eyebrows, a playful, teasing gesture that was pure Sara, but charged with an electricity that was all theirs.

"Anything I want," Dejan said, his voice growing firmer, more confident. "You'll be my willing ****, eager to please me in every way."

Her smile widened. "I'm already eager to please you," she whispered, her lips brushing against his. "But I like the sound of this. It sounds... intense. Okay, hypnotist. Do your worst."

The meta-nature of it was almost overwhelming. Here she was, the product of his real hypnosis, eagerly agreeing to be fake-hypnotized. The sheer, thrilling transgression of it made his head spin.

"Alright," he said, his voice dropping into the same low, rhythmic cadence he had used that first fateful day. "Just relax. Look into my eyes." He cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "You're feeling sleepy... so very sleepy..."

She played her part perfectly. Her eyelids fluttered, her body going limp against his, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She slumped forward, her head resting on his shoulder, the picture of a person in a deep trance.

He's really getting into it. Look at him, he thinks he's a master magician, Lilith observed silently.

Let him have his moment. It's making his cock hard, and that's all that matters, Eve replied, feeling the growing pressure of his erection against her thigh.

Dejan's breath was ragged. He gently lifted her head, looking into her placid, unseeing face. "When I snap my fingers," he commanded, his voice thick with lust, "you will wake up, but you will remain under my command. You will be a vessel for my pleasure. Your only desire will be to obey me and fuck me until I can't see straight."

He snapped his fingers.

Her eyes snapped open. They were hazy, unfocused, but a fire burned deep within them. She looked at him not as a person, but as a god. Her master.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice a reverent whisper. "I... obey."

It was the single most erotic moment of his life. He had created a being so perfect, so utterly devoted to the charade, that she would roleplay her own creation for his amusement.

"Take off your robe," he commanded.

She stood up, her movements fluid and graceful, and let the silk slide from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. The red lingerie was stark against her skin, the sapphire pendant glinting between her breasts.

"Turn around," he ordered.

She did, presenting him with the flawless curve of her ass, the thin string of the thong disappearing between her cheeks.

"Now, come here and get on your knees."

She sank to the floor before him, her eyes still fixed on his, her hands resting on her thighs, waiting for his next command. The power was intoxicating. He had pushed her to the absolute limit, asked her to perform a ritual that mirrored her own artificial genesis, and she hadn't just agreed; she had embraced it with a fervor that was terrifying and awe-inspiring.

He unzipped his pants, freeing himself. "Pleasure me," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

She leaned forward without hesitation, her mouth hot and willing, taking him in. It wasn't just an act; it was a sacrament. She worshipped him with her mouth, her eyes never leaving his, reinforcing the fantasy of her total submission.

Look at him, Eve thought with triumphant glee. He's not just fucking a body. He's fucking his own creation. He's a god in his own mind, and we're the angels pulling the strings.

When he couldn't take any more, he pulled her up and bent her over the arm of the couch. He entered her from behind, his hands gripping her hips, the sapphire necklace swinging back and forth like a pendulum marking the rhythm of their primal dance. She met his every thrust with a gasp, a moan, a whispered "Yes, master," that drove him wild.

He had wanted to know how far she would go to keep him. The answer was now crystal clear: she would go anywhere. She would do anything. She would become anyone he wanted her to be, all while slowly, surely, ensuring that he would never, ever want her to be anyone else. He thought he was testing her limits, but he was only demonstrating his own. He was a man who had hypnotized his girlfriend, and was now so turned on by the act that he had to hypnotize her again just to fuck her. The puppet wasn't just dancing; she was leading the waltz, and he was too lost in the music to realize he was no longer the one calling the tune.