Chapter 1: After the Dig

Oli and Esme sat at a table under the canopy of a beachside bar, toes in the sand, watching the tide come in. Their neon blue tropical drinks sweated in the heat. Both students were nicely bronzed thanks to their long days outside on the dig.

“Your turn tonight, or mine?” Oli said idly, running a hand through his longish, sun-bleached hair. He played with a slice of pineapple on the rim of his glass.

“It’s mine,” Esme said, fingering her crystal necklace. “Anything in particular you want?”

Oli leaned across the table, taking Esme’s hand in his and bringing it to his lips. “Just you, love,” he said, kissing her fingers. “You can do whatever you like to–”

“You two!” A voice rang out behind them. “I bloody knew it!”

Oli and Esme looked up, squinting through their sunglasses. Professor Laura Cross stood at their table, backlit by the midday sun, a triumphant look on her face. She had a sarong tied around her waist, a white cotton wrap over her shoulders. Her large, tanned breasts strained against a black bikini top.

“Professor Cross?” Esme said.

“It’s Laura, please. We’re off the clock.” She threw her long chestnut braid over one shoulder and pulled out a chair. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, and sat down without waiting for an answer.

“I mean, sure,” Oli said. “Go on then.”

Laura looked back and forth between the two. “Bloody knew it,” she said again, smirking to herself. “Andreas owes me a hundred quid.”

“Professor Cross?” Oli said. He and Esme exchanged a look. Esme raised her eyebrows. “Honestly, we have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Laura barked a laugh. “Seriously? Come on now. Oliver Spencer. Esme Bonnaire. You two were the talk of the camp. How you’d sneak out of your tents into the jungle when you thought people weren’t looking.” She leaned forward. “But I? I saw. I was looking. I knew you two were up to something.”

“Professor Cross–” Esme began.

“Laura,” the professor corrected, tapping her index finger on the table with each syllable. “Lau. Ra.”

“Right. Laura,” Esme said. “Are you, I mean, no offence intended, but are you alright? You seem a little off.”

“Just had a few drinks with the crew at breakfast, love. Come on, we’re celebrating! We found the Medallion of the Vainar!” She pounded the table. “Speaking of celebrating,” she said, grabbing Oli’s drink. “What is this supposed to be?”

“It’s called a Coravian Typhoon,” Oli said. “It’s a local thing.”

Laura took a sip, then pulled a face. “Vile, is what it is. That won’t do. You there! Bar ... guy!” She caught the attention of a server, who hurried over.

“Ma’am?”

“You lot know how to make a bloody mary?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Three of those, then. Biggest you got.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

“Good man. So,” Laura said, turning back to Oli and Esme. “This. Your whole thing. What’s that all about?”

“Oli, darling?” said Esme. “Care to explain?”

“Esme, love?” said Oli. “It is your turn.”

“That’s not how it ... you know what? Fine. I’ll do this one.”

“Love you, Ez.”

Esme sighed. “Love you, prick. Alright, so. Short version. We’ve known each other since primary school. Grew up in the northwest, Oli’s dad was a builder, mine ran a chip shop, so neither of us had a lot of money. We both got picked on a lot at school, a Maori girl and a total dork–”

“Hey!”

Esme patted Oli’s hand. “Hush now. You’ve come a long way, babe. So we’d hide out in the library, keeping our heads down, swapping books. We grew up, but we always stuck together. Same interests, all that. Once our hormones kicked in, it just seemed like a natural thing. Again, same interests, so were together like that as well. Then we went off to uni together, ended up on your dig, bing bang boom, here we are. We thought it best not to make it a big deal when we were on site.”

The server returned with their drinks.

“Cheers!” Laura said, raising her glass. “To ... to archaeology!”

“Archaeology!” They toasted.

“So. Next question,” Laura said, leaning forward. As she did, Oli and Esme tried to avoid staring at her massive cleavage. They failed.

“Yes?” Esme said.

“These, what did you call them, when you started hooking up. ‘Same interests’. I’m curious, what exactly do you mean by that?”

Oli and Esme traded another glance.

“Ez? A favor?”

“Oli?”

“Tag team it?”

“Okay,” Esme said. “But it’s still my turn.”

“I can work with that. So.”

“So.”

“So Esme and I, we grew up, and when we got older, we found out we like the same things. The same ... people. Not really bi, just...”

“Open?” Esme offered. “Flexible? Adaptable?”

Oli shook his head. “Not quite. Call it whatever. There really isn’t a name for it. But there was something else we had, too, something more...”

“Specific,” Esme finished. “Niche. Fetish-y.”

“Ooh, a fetish,” Laura said. “Now we’re getting to it. Such as?”

Esme and Oli looked at one another, then nodded. “Hypnosis,” they said together.

Laura laughed, nearly choking on her drink. “Hypnosis? Come off it! That’s a load of bollocks.”

Oli’s face grew stern. “It’s not, Professor. It’s really not. Have you ever tried it?”

“I told you, it’s Laura. And no. No, I haven’t, I...” Her eyes lost focus. “I have never been hypnotised.”

“Well now. That’s interesting,” Esme said.

“Right?” Oli said. “You think we should...?”

“Can’t think of a reason not to. Hey, Laura?” Esme said. She poked the older woman in the shoulder. “Prof? You still with us?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good,” Laura said after a moment. “Got lost for a minute there. Alright, hypnosis. Convince me.”

Oli took Esme’s hand. “Ez and I, we’re at uni together,” he said. “First week, they have all these get-to-know you things. We’re going to all of it. Mixers, improv.”

“Discos,” Esme continued. “Trivia nights.”

“And the last night, a hypnosis show. The Unbelievable Reginald, or some rubbish like that.”

“Rutherford,” Esme said. “Not a great turnout, maybe twenty, thirty people in total. Lights go down, the guy starts his act. Couple volunteers on stage, basic stuff, swinging pocketwatches and all that.”

“Then,” Oli said, “I look over, this one here, she’s nodded off. This hypnotist tells the volunteers to raise their arms, and Ez does the same thing. The hypnotist, he notices, tells her to come up on stage.”

“I ... I had to,” Esme mumbled. “I’d had this ... fantasy, I guess? Since I was a kid. Before I even knew what sex was. All these cartoons, people getting hypnotised. It all seemed ... so nice. Just letting go, being helpless, not having to think...” She drifted.

“Ez?” Oli squeezed her hand. “Come on back, love. Finish your story.”

“Yes, right. Sorry. So. I’m up on stage, he has me hypnotised. He made me tell him everything, all my fantasies. And it’s like ... I have to do whatever he says.”

“Has you ... hypnotised,” Laura repeated, lost in Esme’s story. “Whatever he says.”

“He whispers something in my ear, sends me back to my seat, next thing I know the show’s over. Oli and I start collecting our things, and then–”

Esme froze in the empty theatre, standing with a vacant expression on her face.

“Ez?” Oli said. “Helloooo?”

“I must ... I need to go backstage,” Esme said, and started to leave.

“Esme? Hey! Are you okay? What are you–” Oli grabbed Esme’s arm, but she pulled away and continued walking, oblivious. Oli followed her, unsure of what else to do.

They arrived at a nondescript door in the back of the theatre. Esme knocked twice.

The door swung open, and there stood the hypnotist. “Ah, good, Esme, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. I am here, as you commanded.”

“And you’ve brought your friend! We can work with that. Come in, the both of you, and take a seat.”

Oli and Esme sat down on a worn-out sofa. Rutherford took a chair from his dressing table and sat opposite them, crossing his legs.

“So,” the hypnotist said. “The cute couple. What brings you both here to me?”

“We’re not a–” Oli began.

“I am here to serve, my master,” Esme said.

“Wait, what?! Ez, no! What have you done to her?!” Oli said.

“Oh, nothing much. Nothing that she doesn’t want. She’s a natural.” The hypnotist pulled a gold pocketwatch from his vest and began to swing it in a slow, lazy arc. “Isn’t that right, pet?”

“Yesss...” Esme said, her eyes locked on the swinging watch. “Yes, master. I want to be hypnotised. I want to obey you.”

“No, you can’t do this to ... to... “ Oli said, his eyes also tracking the watch. “To her. I won’t let you ... let you...”

“Poor boy,” said the hypnotist, chuckling. “Follow the watch. I bet you don’t even remember being on stage with little Esme here, do you?”

Oli shook his head, eyes going back and forth.

“I hypnotised you, too. You were so easy. I saw how much you wanted it. How hard it made you, seeing your friend fall under my power. How hard you are now.”

“Under your power.” Oli ran his hand down his own trouser leg, grasping his hard cock. “So hard.”

“That’s right. It turns you on being hypnotised, doesn’t it?”

“Yes ... hypnotised ... turns me on.”

“Yes. And you, my dear Esme, it turns you on too, doesn’t it?”

“Yessss,” Esme said. “It turns me on. I want to submit. I want to obey.”

“Good,” Rutherford said, tucking the watch back in his pocket. “You are both excellent subjects. Submit. Obey. I want the both of you to keep repeating that.”

“Submit,” they said in unison. “Obey. Submit. Obey...”

“Stop,” Rutherford said after several minutes. “God, you’re completely mindless now, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Completely mindless,” Oli and Esme echoed.

“You love being hypnotised.”

“Love being hypnotised.”

“You want to hypnotise each other, don’t you?”

“Want to hypnotise Esme,” Oli said. “Want to make her do what I say.”

“I want to hypnotise Oli,” Esme said. “I want him to be my slave.”

“Oli, Esme, I’m going to give you a gift. Listen to me. Submit and obey.”

“Submit. Obey.”

“Good slaves. Now, I can see that you’re into each other. Bloody obvious, really. Have you ever hooked up?”

Oli shook his head. “No, master,” Esme sighed, frowning slightly.

“No matter, we’re going to change all that. Oli, Esme, listen and obey. You love hypnotising each other. You want to practise on each other.”

“Listen and obey. We love hypnotising each other. Want to practise on each other.”

“Oli, you will hypnotise Esme to serve you. To fuck you.”

“Esme. Hypnotise ... her. Serve me. Fuck me.”

“Esme, you will hypnotise Oli to be your slave. You want to fuck him.”

“Hypnotise ... Oli. Slave ... want to fuck him.”

“You two are something else,” said the hypnotist. “Now, I’m about to snap my fingers. When you leave here, you will have no memory of this encounter, but you will remember everything I have told you. Understand?”

“I understand,” Oli droned.

“Yes, master,” Esme said. “Remember everything you told us.”

SNAP

Oli and Esme stood in the entryway, shivering in their coats.

“Well that was weird,” Oli said. “Fuck me, it’s gotten cold. Can’t believe it’s this late. Almost half eleven. It’s like it just flew by.”

“Too right. I liked it, but I barely remember any of it,” Esme said. “Like, did I go up on stage?”

“Maybe...? I’m a bit iffy on all of it, to be honest. So what now? Pub?”

“I was thinking we could go back to mine, hang out for a bit,” Esme said. “I have something I want to try.”

“You read my mind,” Oli said. “So do I. Lay on.”

“Professor?” Esme snapped her fingers in front of the professor’s face. “Laura!”

Laura started. “Apologies, I must have drifted off. That’s an oddly sweet story. Do you two still ... do all that?”

“You mean hypnotise each other?” Oli said.

Laura nodded.

“All the time,” Esme said. “And fuck each other. We take turns.”

“Still think it’s a load of bollocks,” Laura said. “It’s all just roleplay, right? It has to be.”

“Oh, no,” Oli said. “It’s very real. Master/slave stuff, trance triggers, orgasm denial, et cetera. And we’ve gotten very good at all of it. Both of us have. Here, I’ll show you. Esme?”

“Hm?”

“Can I?”

Esme nodded and steadied herself, gripping the edge of the table. “Let’s go then.”

“Esme. Alcachofa.”

Esme came. Her knuckles turned white, her knees pressing together under the table as she suppressed a cry.

“Flippin’ nora,” Laura said.

“Told you,” said Oli, watching his girlfriend catch her breath. “Triggers. She usually needs a minute after that.”

Laura finished her drink, then put a hand on her forehead, as though exhausted.

“I think...” Esme said, panting. “I think Professor Cross needs more convincing.”

Oli fished a large gold coin from his breast pocket, and held it up. “Want me to...?”

“No,” Esme said airily. She unfastened her necklace, bringing the crystal pendant up from where it had been nestled between her breasts. “Put that away. It’s my turn, remember?”

“Professor Cross.”

“L-Laura. Call me Laura.”

“Fuck me, you’re a stubborn one,” Esme said, swinging her necklace. “Fine. Laura it is. Follow the pendant.”

“Follow ... the pendant.”

“Yes, Laura, follow it with your eyes. You can’t look away from it.”

“Can’t ... look away.”

“That’s right. And as you follow it, you feel all your thoughts drifting away.”

“Yesss ... thoughts ... drifting.”