Date Night [pt. III]

Dayna stands quietly in front of your table. Her ice-blue eyes which seemed to pierce through you whenever she’d look at you, are totally blank. Empty in all the ways you’ve come to love. A dark part of you feels comforted, somehow. Happy. It’s like merely being in the presence of an entranced mother appeals to you on an instinctive level. You feel like a predator stalking prey through the woods, and the prey has just tripped over itself at a critical moment.

“That poor woman,” Sharon whispers to herself, oblivious to the monstrous, predatory urges growling in your mind like rabid wolves. Sharon looks at you. The dark-haired woman appears as but a fraction of her age, yet she very obviously still looks older than you. That’s probably where the visible mismatch between the two of you is most apparent to other people. That and the fact that she’s gorgeous while you’ve always considered yourself rather average-looking at best. “One of my worst nightmares is falling into a trance while I’m in a room with a client.”

Sharon shifts in her seat slightly, causing her huge breasts to wobble. Her blue eyes look at you expectantly, like you’re supposed to say something. To make her feel better? To comfort her? Show her that you’re sensitive? Normally, you might do any of those things out of reflex, but all you want right now is to be by yourself with Dayna so you can get your hooks into her mind.

It’s an entirely selfish desire. You don’t remember being this way your whole life. There was a time you would have commiserated with Dayna and Sharon, and done your best to make the two feel like there was at least one man who wasn’t weirded out by what happened to them every day. You can see the marks of your so-called morality like scars in a mirror. Only, they’ve healed and faded, and staring back at you is a face you don’t recognize.

The touch of Sharon’s hand against the skin of your own jolts you from your thoughts. Her eyes are less warm now. More worried. You’ve missed your chance to be a good boyfriend. So now you have to settle for being something else. Something easier, for which pleasure comes immediately and often.

“Sorry, Sharon. I know seeing Dayna like this, hypnotized on the job, must be hard for you. Let me help you with that.”

Sharon’s eyes immediately glaze over. She leans toward you, an instinctive, programmed part of her mind telling her that she needs to listen to what you have to say next. That you’ve got all the answers, and that whatever you tell her is the choice that she should make next.

You should put a trigger like that in Dayna and every woman you have under your influence. It’d be so much easier to control them if you didn’t have to wait for their daily hypnotic trance to implant some commands within their minds.

Dayna continues looking past the two of you, her eyes completely blank. She’ll wake soon. You glance around again. Thankfully it doesn’t seem like anyone’s watching you. The party at the nearest table are chatting animatedly about something or other, engrossed in their own lives and stories. If they’d been anything like you, they’d have been watching, curious as to what the other patrons at Vito’s were talking about and eating.

“Go should go to the bathroom and freshen up. You don’t need to stay here and be reminded of one of your nightmares. I’ll text you when Dayna wakes up and you can hurry back and order dinner.”

She stares at you for an achingly long minute. You take a sip of your wine to calm your nerves, but it doesn’t work.

You fidget nervously in your seat, glancing over at Dayna. Your potential new prize. The redheaded MILF is still entranced. You let your eyes rove over her body for a few seconds, drinking in her soft voluptuousness. Her large tits and wide hips seem to have been designed specifically to attract your interest.

“Okay.”

You turn your head when Sharon speaks. The blank openness is gone from her intelligent eyes.

“You’re right,” she purses her lips. She stands up, smoothing out her dress. “You’re good at dealing with women when they’re like this, so I’ll let you do your thing. Who knows? Maybe Dayna will wake up feeling much more appreciative toward you.”

You resist the urge to smile. Sharon might actually know something’s up if you show her just how pleased you are right now. There’d be a dark hunger written all over your face that she wouldn’t be able to ignore.

“We’ll see,” you reply neutrally. “I’ll text you when she comes to.”

“Thanks,” Sharon smiles warmly. She gives Dayna a parting glance before looking around the room. She stops, and you follow her gaze towards the side of the restaurant, about midway between where you are and the entrance is. An indent in the wall that leads to a hallway beyond. You’d bet your hundred dollar bill that’s where the restrooms are.

Sharon walks away. It’s testament to how amazing her body is that even though you’ve got Dayna hypnotized mere inches away from you, you still take the time to watch Sharon’s body as she moves. It’s hard to believe you’ve seen her naked, much less fucked her. And on the same day you had sex with your own mother no less.

Your eyes follow her until she disappears into the indent. You wait another ten seconds just to be sure before settling your eyes on Dayna.

The redhead’s eyes are still completely blank. She stands along the side of the table, her round fat ass mere inches away from your right hand. The urge to cop a feel is almost irresistible. Had this been the first time you’d seen a mother fall into a trance, you might have succumbed.

“Dayna, can you hear me?” you ask quietly. Just loud enough for her to hear.

“Yes,” she replies flatly. Her voice is devoid of all life. As if conscious thought has not factored at all into her utterance.

You glance around again, feeling rather exposed. It doesn’t look like anyone’s paying attention to you, but you can’t discount the possibility that someone with acute hearing might actually be able to listen in on your conversation.

An idea comes to you suddenly. You grab your menu and tilt it upward with one hand.

“Come over and stand right next to me, Dayna.”

The voluptuous red haired woman obeys you wordlessly, immediately moving to your right side.

“Now lean over the table as if you’re reading the menu with me. You want to be close enough to hear me when I whisper.”

She does as you ask, and within moments her face is mere inches from yours. She’s looking downward, her empty, glazed-over eyes staring blankly at the table beneath her. She looks rather awkward. Like a store mannequin that had been positioned in a weird pose that was supposed to simulate a person going about their daily life. She’s close enough to you that you can hear her soft, rhythmic breathing.

“While you’re in this position, nod along with whatever I’m saying no matter what it is.”

Dayna nods.

Still slightly awkward, but you suppose it’ll have to do. To the outside observer it should appear as if she’s helping you with your menu selection. It should prevent anyone from coming along and disturbing you. You hope.

Your eyes flick over to where the bathrooms are. For a moment you imagine seeing her there staring at you. The moment passes and you see nothing.

Your neck itches.

Glancing back at Dayna, you can’t help but take in the size of her breasts. She’s leaning over right next to you, positioning her ripe melons just below your face. It takes every ounce of your willpower to not instinctively reach up and grab a handful of one of them. You take a deep breath. You can’t afford to waste time here or do anything that could give you away. There’ll be plenty of time for that later on.

“Y-you’re in your daily trance. Did you know that, Dayna?”

She nods. It suddenly occurs to you that because of your earlier command, you have no way of knowing if she’s agreeing with you or just nodding along with what you’re saying.

With a sigh, you continue, “Answer yes or no whenever I ask you a yes or no question while you’re in a trance. Are you aware that you’re hypnotized right now?”

“Yes.” Again, she nods. You smile.

“When you wake up from this trance, you’ll remember coming over here to help me decide what to order for dinner. You won’t remember falling into a trance. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Another nod.

“That’s good. Now, I want you to memorize a cell phone number for me. You won’t be able to recall it consciously, but whenever you fall into a trance and I’m not around, you’ll go someplace private and dial the number and explain that you’re in a trance.”

You rattle off your cellphone number and have her recite it several times before you’re satisfied.

“What will you do when you fall into a trance while I’m not around?” you ask.

“I’ll go someplace private and call the number you wanted me to memorize,” she says.

“If someone who isn’t me comes in and interrupts you, you’ll pretend to be awake. You’ll explain to the person that you’re in an important call and ask them to give you some privacy. If they don’t leave, you’ll tell the person on the other end of the call that you’ll call them back and then hang up. Understood?”

Nod. “Understood.”

“If you fall into a trance while you’re within a minute’s walking distance of me, you’ll come over to me and explain that you’re in a trance.”

She nods. “I’ll walk up to you and tell you I’m in a trance.”

Your manhood hardens, even as you let out a small sigh of relief. You’ve done the bare minimum. Enough to ensure that no matter what happens, you’ll have more opportunities to deepen your influence over Dayna in the future. You can comfortably let the remainder of her hypnotic trance run its course and then continue with the Dayna when she calls you tomorrow.

Then you remember. You haven’t given her a trigger phrase yet! You’ve been meaning to get one into the heads of all the women under your influence. Angela, Tiffany, Veronica, and Marissa all lack one (though you wonder if Marissa even needs one considering she’s willingly given you enough **** material on herself to totally destroy her life), which essentially prevents you from directly influencing their minds until a random five-or-so minute period each day.

You have no idea where Dayna lives or how to contact her, though. That’ll be an issue you have to solve soon if you want to take advantage of any posthypnotic triggers you implant into her mind.

You reach into your pocket and bring out your phone, setting it on the table. You go to the phone app and tab over to the contacts screen. Veronica’s name and number stares up at you. The latest number you’d inputted into the phone. You’re about to add one other.

“You feel an urge to enter your cellphone number in my phone as well as your address.”

Dayna blinks, nodding her head. “I…”

“You feel comfortable right now, Dayna. Comfortable and relaxed.”

“…comfortable and relaxed.” She repeats you slowly after a moment’s pause.

“You’re comfortable and relaxed because you like the sound of my voice, Dayna. It’s so relaxing and soothing. Do you feel relaxed right now?”

“Yes,” she nods.

“You want to keep hearing my voice, don’t you?”

“I…”

“You feel comfortable and relaxed.”

“Comfortable and relaxed,” she repeats easily, nodding.

“Why do you feel comfortable and relaxed?” you ask.

“Because of your voice…” she pauses. “It’s soothing.”

Her posture seems to relax somewhat. You smile easily.

“You want to hear my voice more often. What better way to make that happen than to give me your phone number so I can call you whenever I want?”

Dayna swallows and nods.

“Call me whenever you want?”

“My voice is soothing and relaxing. You enjoy being around me and hearing my voice. You want me to be able to call you whenever I want, don’t you?”

She nods again and says, “I want you to call me whenever you want.”

Without further prompting, she grabs your phone and creates a new contact for herself: “Dayna McCabe.”

Her fingers blur over the phone screen keyboard as she enters her number and then pauses, still holding your phone.

You gently touch her hand.

“You should add your address too. You like hearing my voice. It’s so soothing and relaxing, isn’t it?”

Her lips curve upward.

“Soothing and relaxing. I like hearing it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you giving me your address if it’s so you can hear my voice more often if I ever come and visit.”

Her finger hovers above the screen, trembling slightly. You try a different track.

“A voice as soothing and relaxing as mine makes you comfortable, doesn’t it?” you say.

She nods again. “Comfortable.”

“You only feel comfortable around people you trust. Isn’t that right?”

Another nod. “That’s right.”

“And the more comfortable you are around another person, the more you trust that person, right?”

She bobs her head almost immediately. “Mhm.”

“My voice is soothing and relaxing.”

“Soothing and relaxing,” she parrots with a tilt of her head.

“My voice makes you feel comfortable.”

“Feel comfortable,” she lets out a sigh.

“My voice makes you feel very comfortable.”

She licks her lips. “Very comfortable.”

You grin toothily. You love sex, but there’s something about reshaping an older woman’s mind that excites you even more.

“And the more comfortable you are around someone, the more you trust them.”

“The more comfortable I am around you, the more I trust you,” she says, including you in your example even without your prompting. She must be thinking about you instead of anyone else. That’s good.

“You trust me very much.”

“…very much?” She whispers. There’s a hint of incredulity to her voice, as if even while she’s hypnotized she can barely believe the words that are coming out of her mouth.

“How much do you trust me, Dayna?”

“V…very much.”

Your cock is throbbing. You’re **** for release. You take a deep breath and attempt to calm yourself.

“W-whenever I and only I say the words “trust me,” you’ll take whatever I said immediately before those words at face value without questioning it. Because you trust me.”

The redhead MILF inclines her head.

“I trust you very much.”

Fuck, she’s so close to you. Those tits. That amazing bubble butt that’s surely sticking out behind you. You could touch her and you’re almost certain she wouldn’t say a word. Damn. You hate being in public spaces. You can’t wait to get this woman alone and have your way with her. And then tomorrow you’ll get a chance to further your control over her. A chance to gain a foothold on her life; everything she is, was, and could ever be.

“Enter your address under your contact in my phone. It’s perfectly safe and I’d never misuse that information, trust me.”

Perilous seconds pass where you wonder if the trigger has taken root.

Then, wordlessly, Dayna tabs over to the address field of her contact. She quickly enters her information. Interesting. It seems her home is an apartment instead of a house.

Just as you take the phone from her hands, Dayna blinks. Life returns to ice-blue eyes.

She glances over at you and then the menu.

“So, as I was saying, the mussels with linguine or the shrimp scampi are good choices if you're in the mood for seafood,” she points at two of the selections on the seafood portion of the menu. “If you’d rather have meat, I’d go with the filet mignon.”

Her pale finger moves to a different part of the menu.

“So what do you think?” she asks. Then she blinks and looks up. “Oh. Where’d your girlfriend move off to? I didn’t notice her leave.”

Shit. You’d forgotten to say something while Dayna was hypnotized to account for Sharon’s absence. Sloppy.

You chuckle nervously.

“Oh, um, she went to the bathroom. You were so focused on showing me the menu you must not have noticed. Trust me.”

Dayna’s eyes glaze over for a split second before she sighs.

“I guess I do get a little passionate when it comes to the food we serve here.”

You smile at her.

“That’s not a bad thing. Have you ever thought about being a cook?” you ask.

“Off and on. But I’ve been in the kitchen,” she frowns. “It’s not for me. Way too stressful for too little pay. Besides, I’m not a very good cook.”

“I’m sure you’d be great if you tried,” you say.

Dayna smiles at you.

“Maybe. The law’s more my speed, though.”

You raise your eyebrows, impressed. “Are you going to law school?”

“I am. I make decent money here in tips, but it’s not enough to give my kids the life they deserve, you know?” she says, then glances towards another table and frowns. She glances at her watch and her eyes widen.

“Shit,” she mutters under her breath. She shoots you an apologetic look. “Um, sorry, but I have to go. I’ll come back in a little bit. Hopefully by then your girlfriend will be ready to order.”

She winks at you and hurries off. Her big, round bubble butt jiggles and wobbles with her movements.

You stare after her as she makes her way to another table, a smile plastered on her face as she interacts with the diners there.

So, she’s a single mother, a server at a high end restaurant, and a law student. Where does she find time for even two of those things? You can’t even imagine. She clearly has a future planned out for herself. You won’t derail that for her. Someone like that deserves to have her dreams fulfilled. And if she winds up getting some enjoyment from you on the side (and perhaps a little help), what’s the harm in that?

Satisfied, grab your phone and text Sharon. You have a feeling tonight’s about to get even more interesting.

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