“Oh, come on, honey!” my wife sighed exasperated, “not this hypnosis-crap again?” She’d come into my office and found me reading in How Hypnosis Works, the newest addition in my growing collection of hypnosis-themed books.

“What?” I asked, looking up from my book.

“I thought you were in here working. Let go of that garbage and spend a little time with your wife instead. American Idol is on,” she insisted.

“It’s not garbage!” I exclaimed tired, “it’s fascinating – you can change and help people in so many ways, and I-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before,” she interrupted me, “and you really wanna try it someday. Once you’ve studied it enough, learnt enough. But really, dear, enough is enough. You’re always reading about it, and you’re never gonna try it. Because it doesn’t work. Hypnosis isn’t real, and you’ve been hoodwinked into thinking it is.”

“You’ve really figured it all out, huh Elisha?” I snarled, suddenly angry with her, “I’ve read hundreds of accounts of people who’ve been hypnotised – have they all been hoodwinked too? Just because you don’t believe something or haven’t seen something doesn’t mean, it isn’t real.”

Usually, she backed off and let me be once she’d gotten me riled up (this wasn’t the first time we’d had this argument, see), but this time she really stood her ground.

“John, have you ever tried it on someone?” she asked, calmly.

“You know I haven’t. I don’t have enough...” I began excusing myself.

“Linda who wants to stop smoking? Your mom’s weight-losing programme? Making Paul cluck like a chicken at dinner-parties?” she demanded, knowing full well the answer.

“No, as I was trying to say, I haven’t...” I tried again, letting my irritation show in my voice.

“No, you’ve got lots and lots of information!” she exclaimed and pointed at my bookshelf where the middle-row was occupied by some of the best guides and introductions into the world of hypnosis, “you know why you haven’t hypnotised anyone? Why you haven’t even tried?”

“Oh, so you know?” I sneered at her, growing increasingly annoyed.

“Yeah, I do,” she insisted with a nod, “you’re scared.”

“What!? Scared?” I scoffed, “what would I be scared of?” That was not what I had expected – because it was ludicrous, of course.

“Yeah, scared. Because if you actually did try, you’d realise that it’s just a hoax. A hoax that you’ve spent hours and hours and hundreds of dollars on. So it’s better just to sit back and read and watch films, pretend it’s real and never risk getting proven wrong.”

“I’m not ... that’s not ... No, Elisha, it’s...” I tried to find an appropriate response, but somewhere deep inside, something worrying was stirring.

“Yes, it is, John,” she said in a calm, soothing voice, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. And you know what? It’s alright. We can cut our losses, leave this behind and have a nice evening together. We don’t have to watch television, we can just ... relax. Enjoy ourselves...” She sent me a suggestive smile, hinting at what kind of enjoyment, we could have, if I were willing to let go of my hobby. However, I wasn’t willing to pay that price.

“It’s not that I’m afraid it’s a hoax, though,” I insisted, “it’s real, I know it is. But...”

“But...?” she probed me, clearly sensing victory.

“But I’m afraid that ... I’ll fail,” I answered after a little while’s thinking, “imagine the disappointment, if I can’t make Linda or mom or whoever fall into a trance. Imagine how ... how humiliating it’d be. Never try, never fail, you know?”

“Then try it on me,” she said, “try it on me. I love you, I won’t judge you. If it doesn’t work, there’ll be no humiliation, no shame. We’ll just say, ‘it didn’t work’ and go our merry way. No harm, no foul.”

“I ... it doesn’t work like that, Elisha,” I said somewhat reluctant, “you can’t hypnotise someone against their will.”

“It’s okay,” she hurriedly answered me, “I won’t resist or anything like that. I’ll be perfectly accepting, doing what you tell me to. I’ll be the best ... what do you call it ... subject you can imagine. And when... if ... it doesn’t work, you’ll agree to let go of all this.”

“I don’t know...” I sighed but knew that the battle was lost. She sensed it too.

“Let’s do this, John,” she said with a smile, and I nodded, my heart beating like crazy.

Ten minutes later, Elisha was sitting comfortable in my office’s lazy-chair, awaiting our little ... experiment. I sat across from her, holding a crystal in my hands. Adrenaline was making me a little shaky and the little prism caught and reflected the dim light in the room in an array of different ways. It had a been a real bargain – only 300 dollars online. I had started a CD with the soothing sounds of waves on a beach to set the mood. It might be a little overkill, but I figured I needed all the assistance I could get.

Not that the props alone would be enough. It was up to me to do this.

“Okay,” I began and swallowed nervously, “okay. I want you to focus on the crystal. I want you to listen to my words very carefully. I want you to relax as best you can, follow my voice and look at the crystal. Okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, a little nervous too but determined, “I love you, John.”

“I love you too Elisha,” I said as I leaned in and gave her a kiss. She smiled at me, and I held the crystal out before her eyes.

“Just relax,” I said very slowly, very carefully, “relax. Listen to the waves. Look at the crystal. The crystal. Relax. Listen to my voice. Slowly, feel how you are getting tired. Tired. See the light in the crystal. Your legs, feel your legs. They are so heavy. You can barely lift them. You don’t want to lift them. It feels good to just relax. Listen to me ... Do as I say...”

I droned on and on for at least fifteen minutes before I noticed it. Her eyes had lost their spark. They were still open and she blinked regularly, but she was missing from them.

“Elisha, you are now hypnotised,” I declared, excited and scared. Excited that it seemed to have worked, scared that it hadn’t.

She didn’t respond which had to be a good sign.

“You will listen to my voice. You will follow its command,” I demanded, “and you will answer me.”

“Yes.” She said.

“Stand up,” I ordered, and she stood up with another clear “Yes.”

“Say: It worked, John. Hypnosis is real. I was wrong,” I ordered her, somewhat petty, I know. But ... somewhere, deep inside, we’re all a bit petty, I think. Especially towards someone who’s been so adamant that we’re wrong.

“It worked, John. Hypnosis is real. I was wrong,” she said. Not like a robot but not like a real person either. It was Elisha voice, but ... not Elisha.

I looked at her as she stood in front of me, almost at attention. My wife is a pretty good looking woman. Not a tall, beautiful goddess or anything, but rather ... good looking in an ordinary way. She’s half a head shorter than me, with curly, blond hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a blouse that obscured but didn’t completely hide her wonderfully large breasts. Her jeans were loose and comfy but far from arousing. Not her sexiest attire, I must admit.

Studying my wife while she just stared straight ahead with a blank expression, waiting for my command, arose a series of dark thoughts in me. See, the ability to help others had been a strong motivator for studying hypnosis – but the power was another one. In the darkest, most secret corners of my mind, ideas and fantasies about control and dominance had always lurked. Especially, the sexual kind. I had imagined (and even written about) having a woman under my control so many times ... And here it was.

But even so ... hypnosis is not an exact science. And how would Elisha react if she ‘came to’ while we were ... busy? Although ... well, I was fairly sure she was very deep under. I know my wife – she would not admit to being wrong if she had any kind of choice.

“Elisha,” I said, my voice shaking a little, “cluck like a chicken.” Well, a little entertainment was not a bad place to start. This would also ensure that she really was under, wouldn’t it?

“Cluck, cluck, cluck,” she immediately obeyed, humiliating herself on my command. Her eyes stared into nothingness while her mouth formed the words again and again.

“And flap your wings.” She did so, standing in the middle of my office, clucking and flapping her arms like a retarded chicken.

“Stop.”

And she stopped, returning to her empty stare. A little unnerving, but at the same time, quite arousing.

“Elisha, take off your blouse,” I commanded. Without any hesitation, she pulled the blue thing over her head, standing in just a faded, grey tank-top and jeans. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so I could easily see her forms. Now, of course, this was nothing new, since I’d been married to her for 12 years now, but it was ... strangely forbidden, now. I was clearly invading her privacy, in a big way.

“Your pants too.” And voila, the pants were gone, leaving her in just panties and tank-top.

“Kneel,” I commanded, voice shaking. It felt so bad! So wrong ... so hot!

She knelt before me.

“Elish, I want you to suck my cock. I want you to give me a long, slow blowjob and when I cum, I want you to swallow all my sperm,” I said, my mouth dry, “repeat my orders.”

“Yes. You want me you suck your cock, in a long, slow blowjob, and you want me to swallow your sperm,” she said in an emotionless voice.

“Right,” I said, “well, get to it.”

She crawled the few feet to my chair, and that alone was enough to send spark of arousal through my body. Not that she did it in a sexy, submissive way like you’ll see in porn but rather it was the easiest way to get to me; to my cock. I spread my legs and she crawled in between them and opened my pants. A little wiggling on my part was needed, but soon my cock stood proud in the free air. Well, for about three seconds, then my darling wife’s lips closed around it.

“Oh God,” I gasped. There’s a special pleasure to having one’s dick sucked, and I could remember exactly when the last time I felt that – five months ago, on my 35^th birthday. That had been a night to remember! Wearing a black corset, fishnet stockings and heels she had sucked me hard and then ridden me to shared orgasms. Definitely among the best birthday-presents ever!

Now, though, there was no alcohol involved, and she didn’t feel like I was owed one wild night.

Her mouth was accepting my hard dick simply because I had told her to – and that thought was intoxicating! Slowly, in accordance to her orders, she lowered her head downwards, letting more and more of me into her warm mouth. Once she reached her threshold – which was nowhere as deep as I would have preferred – she pulled up again, while her tongue danced across my oh, so sensitive skin. I would have liked to order her to deep-throat me, or better yet, simply grabbing her by her hair and fucking her mouth as if she were a pro, but I couldn’t. She was under hypnosis, yes, but it was for the very first time. As deep as she seemed to be under, I knew – from my intensive research – that pain, shock, intense discomfort or even orders she was deeply uncomfortably with would break my hold on her. I guess I was even pushing it with my ‘swallow-order’, since it was something she’d always been opposed to. But then again, a little cum down her gullet wasn’t so bad. Being face-fucked probably would be.

Plus ... her doing this on her own? Priceless...

“God, Elisha,” I mumbled, “you’re so good.” She took her time, licking and sucking, and I just sat there, enjoying. Up and down, up and down, licking, kissing ... wow...

“Elisha,” I commanded, “look up at me while you suck.”

She immediately obeyed, turning her pale, blue eyes to mine. She still wasn’t ‘there’ and while it was a little disquieting to look at, at the same time, it was so, so awesome! She was totally mine to command, as was evident by my cock being buried halfway in her mouth. Slowly, inevitably, her careful ministrations of my dick – combined with my newfound and extremely arousing power – were driving me to the brink of orgasm. I was entering the ‘anything goes’ territory, and I wanted to squeeze more out of it.

“Elisha,” I said, looking into the eyes of my cock-sucking wife, “tell me you love sucking cock.”

With a depraved slurp-sound she pulled her mouth off my dick before obeying: “I love sucking cock.”

She said the words without feeling, without meaning it, without even lying. It might as well have been a machine saying it. Well, what was I really expecting?

“No, like you mean it. Say you love sucking cock like you mean it,” I ordered. Would it work though?

“I really love sucking cock,” she said – emotionless and flat like before. Apparently, to her hypnotised mind, meaning something means adding the word ‘really’ to the sentence.

“Fuck it. Suck me off, make me cum and swallow it all,” I said, and she went back to her job.

With a lot more enthusiasm! Instead of slowly sliding up and down, she evidently took the order to mean ‘as fast as possible’ because she really attacked my cock! Gobbling up and down, not caring that she was drooling on both herself and me, she went about her business like there was no tomorrow.

“Oh fuck!” I gasped, as she quickly had me writhing in my chair, “oh shit, ‘Lisha, you’re good at this! Fuck!”

Soon, her efforts bore fruit, and with a loud grunt I exploded in pure pleasure. Without warning, waves of cum erupted from my dick, and suddenly my dear wife was busy trying to scuff it all down without drowning in my sticky gifts. She swallowed and swallowed again, and still some of my pearly-white drops escaped her lips and ran down her chin.

Without missing a beat, however, she scooped it up with her finger and stuck it back into her mouth, making sure to obey the letter of my order and ‘swallow it all’.

Spent, I fell back in my chair. Wow, what a rush! Despite a little bad conscience, I felt so empowered that I knew this would NOT be the last time we did this, if I had anything to say.

Elisha stayed on her knees, looking up at me, like she’d been instructed to – like a good pet.

“Elisha, sit in your chair, while I think,” I told her as I put my dick back in my boxers and zipped my pants. This was too good to be a one-time thing. No, we were gonna need a repeat-performance. In fact, we were gonna need many repeat-performances. And with a bit of planning, this could be the start of something far grander.