Keep applying pressure, but carefully

You returned to the living room and turned on the TV. It didn't matter what was on, you weren't really watching. Your mind raced with possibilities and erotic fantasy. In just the span of a few minutes, it seemed, you had managed to bump Jennifer's perspective pretty significantly. But you couldn't let up. For things to work the way you wanted, you had to keep pressing her with the app to expand your power over her.

No thoughts of Marcus factored into it at this point. You were horny and your plan was working. All that mattered was locking down your control.

Several minutes passed and it sounded like Jennifer was finishing up in the bathroom. You knew she would want to immediately take a shower. She didn't like "feeling gross" after cleaning a bathroom.

"All done in the bathroom, Jennifer?" You call out to her as she emerged with a bucket in hand.

She let out a soft groan. "Yeah, obviously."

"Grab me a beer."

You let the simple command hang in the air. No dressing it up as a friendly request, no pretend conversation to cover it. It was a simple order to do something for you, when you're much closer to the kitchen than she is and have already been sitting on your ass while she cleaned the bathroom. You held your breath in the deadly quiet few seconds that followed as she looked at you blankly.

Then, shockingly, she responded with a simple, "Okay." Setting down her bucket, she walked through the living room to the kitchen. Your heart jumped a little when you heard the tinny sound of her popping the top off of the bottle. That was beyond the instruction you'd given her, technically. She was being accommodating. This was working out even better than you'd thought it would.

She returned with the ice cold bottle and pressed it into your hand without a word. Something in her expression was at odds with her behavior, like she was quietly irritated. She turned towards the hallway to the bedroom she shared with Marcus.

"Hey, hold up. You look like something's bothering you. Talk to me. You've known me long enough to talk, and we live together, after all. We should get along better. Try to be honest with me."

Two full breaths passed before she turned back to you, nodding. You knew enough by now to understand that was just the pause while the hypnotic control worked on her, so you waited patiently. When she turned around, however, she scowled.

"What did you mean when you said you're a man who doesn't have to look? I don't understand the comment and I haven't stopped thinking about it. I feel like I should be upset about it, but I don't know what you meant and that's pissing me off, too."

So that was it. Secretly, you were thrilled. You'd hoped that little remark would fester in her head, and it had. "Oh! That."

When you didn't say anything more, Jennifer groaned in frustration. "Hey! Don't just 'oh, that' me. Tell me what the fuck you meant!"

You shook your head. "Woah, now. That's not a very nice tone. I will tell you but not if you're going to be a bitch about it. Try again."

She quivered with irritation, straining visibly against your words. You knew for a fact that she hated the word 'bitch.' It was always enough to send her into a tizzy.

"Calm down, relax. Speak to me in a way that shows you aren't a bitch. Because you're not a bitch, are you."

She shook her head, eyes still unfocused.

"That's right. And the opposite of a bitch is a good girl, yes?"

She nodded slowly, face twisted in displeasure.

"That's right. Since you're not a bitch, you must be a good girl. So be a good girl, and ask me nicely to explain to you what I meant."

She gasped, face flushed as your words assaulted her mind. This one was taking a long time to process.

Hoping it would help her along, you coach her through the process. "Say the words: 'I'm not a bitch.'"

"I'm not a bitch!" she snapped, sounding very much not like someone under hypnosis. She was angry. Anxiety spiked in your chest and you feared you'd lost her for pushing too hard, but then noticed that her eyes still hadn't fully focused.

"Say it again, Jennifer, but less bitchy."

"I'm not a bitch." Her voice was softer, almost sad.

"Good. So if you're not a bitch, then what are you?"

Nothing. Silence. Her breathing had grown faster, which only served to draw your eyes to her incredible chest as it heaved gently.

"Say it. Do as you're told."

She swallowed. "I'm a good girl."

Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn't know why that was so difficult for her to admit; in your head she'd always been a good girl, since she'd never flaunted herself and was fiercely loyal to her husband. Did she really struggle to see herself as such? Or was it just that she didn't like being **** to admit it to you? "So, there we are. Ask me nicely and I will tell you." You spoke and then waited patiently for all of her thoughts to work themselves out after such an intense exchange.

It took several seconds, but finally she blinked and looked at you, raising a hand to rub the back of her neck as she spoke. "Sorry... I'm just having a really weird day. Will you please explain to me what you meant by that? It's really eating me up."

"I would be happy to. Sit."

She moved to join you on the couch but you raised a hand to stop her, pointing to the floor where she stood with the other hand. "No. Sit."

She looked confused. "Why can't I just sit there?"

"Do as you're told, Jennifer. Sit down."