Brainwashed to Perfection: A Hypnosis Fantasy
Complete List of Miss Sweet’s Hypnosis Fantasies
The light from a single lamp lit Tammy’s auburn hair as she reached out to gently remove the brainwashing helmet from Ivory’s head.
If anyone else were to observe this action, they might be under the opinion that it was a large green salad bowl rather than a brainwashing helmet but Tammy knew better.
Ivory would know better, if Ivory knew anything.
However, as Tammy had just moments ago used said brainwashing helmet to wipe Ivory clean of everything, knowledge, thoughts, personality, Ivory knew nothing, least of all the differences between a salad bowl and a brainwashing helmet.
Tammy set the brainwashing helmet on the nightstand, ignoring the sound of thin plastic meeting wood, and easily plucked Ivory’s headset from the desk.
She barely acknowledged her own arousal at the way Ivory’s dark eyes blink, blink, blinked, seeing nothing, observing nothing, registering nothing.
As easily as she’d slipped the brainwashing helmet off, she now slipped the large and heavy headset over Ivory’s curly black hair, careful to arrange each earpiece just so for maximum effect.
A few clicks on the nearby laptop caused the screen to brighten, displaying an open mixing program with an audiofile, one titled “Perfect Ivory”, already waiting there.
Tammy silently pulled the purple microphone closer to her lips and pressed the play button.
Tammy watched, silently breathing, as the line of the audiofile moved from the almost smooth line of the binaurals to the jagged spikes of Ivory’s own soft voice.
The first words said would be “Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. You are nothing. I am nothing. Nothing is perfect. You are nothing. I am nothing. We are perfect.”
Tammy continued to silently watch until the jagged lines of Ivory’s voice were replaced by the smooth ones of the binaurals again.
“Perfection. What is perfection. What are you? An empty vessel, slowly being filled with perfection until you are perfection. Perfect in every way.”
With the past few days full of planning, practicing, and perfecting, Tammy found it simple for her eyes to track the line of binaurals and to stop speaking a few seconds before the spikes of Ivory’s voice returned.
Twenty minutes in, slightly passed the halfway mark, the staring, blinking Ivory, began to speak, softly at first but growing louder.
“Embodiment of perfection. Embodiment of perfection. Embodiment of perfection.” The words tumbled ceaseslessly from Ivory’s brown lips.
The arousal at those words hit Tammy harder than she realized they would and she bit her lip in an attempt to tamp down her reaction, which meant she’d missed her cue.
Tammy muted the microphone for a moment to inhale and exhale slowly, willing herself to calm and focus, not at all being assisted by Ivory’s slow, methodical, mantra still filling her ears.
When her cue came around again, she unmuted her mic, her voice coming out as smooth and unflustered as it had been for the past twenty minutes.
“You are indeed the embodiment of perfection. Every word you say, every breath you take, each time you blink. Perfection. Pure perfection.”
Had anyone been staring closely at Ivory from the moment Tammy had started the audiofile to this very moment, they wouldn’t have been able to note the subtle changes in Ivory as they occurred.
However, at the end of the forty minutes, having been mostly watching the screen for her cues, Tammy could see a marked difference as she studied the now silent Ivory.
She noted easily how Ivory’s posture had changed, becoming straighter, chin lifted in what she could only call pride.
Proof of how powerful brainwashing could be.
Tammy took longer than she should have, admiring Ivory, and smiled ruefully at herself as she carefully drew the headset off Ivory’s head.
Ivory merely continued to stare and blink, blink, blink while Tammy closed the laptop and, after moving the headset and microphone into the brainwashing helmet née salad bowl, placed the green plastic on the lid.
With an unscrewed water bottle in hand, Tammy leaned down to Ivory’s ear, enjoying the texture of the curly hair brushing against her cheek.
Unable to help herself, her voice turned into a purr as she said “Perfection, my love. Time to wake UP.”
Ivory stirred, hands and legs shifting after an hour of being predominantly still, the blinking eyes slowly focusing on Tammy’s smiling face.
“There you are, Perfection. Drink some water.” Tammy proffered the open water bottle, thoroughly enjoying the graceful, elegant movements of as Ivory accepted it, arm, hand, and fingers, all combined into a delicate ballet of movement.
Tammy shifted slightly as watching Ivory’s lips surround the rim of the bottle cause another wave of arousal.
When, with more graceful movements, Ivory offered the now half empty bottle to Tammy, she finished the bottle off eagerly, reveling in the knowledge her lips were now where Ivory’s had been mere moments ago.
Turning briefly to recap and set the now empty bottle next to the microphone, Tammy turned back to met Ivory’s dark eyes.
“I am Perfection.” The answer, delivered with certainty and without hesitation or consideration, caused a giddy bubbling in Tammy’s lower stomach but she merely nodded in agreement.
“Yes. You are Perfection. Who am I?” Ivory’s answer to this question would decide where the two of them went, sexual or non-sexual, from here.
The answer came slower this time, but with no less certainty. “You are my lover. You are here to worship me.”
At that, unexpectedly, Ivory rose gracefully from the brainwashing chair, walked the three steps to the large queen bed, and lay upon it, legs spread wide.
Even with Ivory fully clothed Tammy caught her breath, staring as Ivory’s hands rose to becon her forward.
“Lover. Won’t you come worship me?”
Tammy didn’t have to be asked twice.
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