By Swoon Racers, September 1996 Copyright 1996

I almost dropped my wine. The incredulity in my voice attracted the attention of the other women.

"A dog?! Fran, you've got to be kidding. Dogs can't hypnotise people. People can hypnotise people. People can hypnotise themselves. Maybe people can even hypnotise dogs. But Fran: dogs can not hypnotise people."

Fran was unperturbed. "Mine can."

We were gathering a crowd. The other conversation had stopped. Apparently this disagreement was more interesting than who's seeing whom behind whose back. I felt awkward debating the matter in Fran's own livingroom, especially on my first visit, but something deep inside me needed to win this point.

"Fran, get real. What makes you believe such a thing?"

She looked at me earnestly, meeting the challenge of my gaze. "Simple logic, Ruth. We've all had the experience of daydreaming. You watch the dancing flames in a fireplace long enough, and your mind wanders to other places and other times. You see the waves lapping on the sand and listen to the rhythmic swoosh as they come and go, and pretty soon you're completely relaxed and lost in reverie. Well, hypnosis is merely deeper reverie. If the fire and the ocean can hypnotise you, why not a dog?" She grinned like a debater who's blown her opponent away.

I wasn't buying, and by now I sensed the others taking a great interest in the discussion. All three awaited my response, watching me curiously, almost with anticipation. New to the group, I couldn't read them easily.

I grinned back to signal I was still in the joust. "Fran, you're amazing. The fire and the water are simply there. They're not alive, they have no conscious will to impose on me. They don't hypnotise me; I hypnotise myself by concentrating on them to distract my conscious mind while my subconscious takes control. That's all."

"It's happened to you?"

"Yeah, so what? So I'm suggestible. What's that prove?"

"And you don't think a conscious creature could do it better and faster than those inanimate things?"

In the moment before I could reply, Jane cut in. "Prove it, Frannie. Give Ruthie a chance to show us one way or the other. Get Satan and prove it."

I laughed out loud. "Satan?! Your dog's name is Satan? You've got one hell of an imagination, Fran darling."

She chuckled back. "Well no, not THE Satan. But I think you'll notice a resemblance."

She was smiling, but it was the smile of the hidden challenge and the others knew it too. Somehow I'd been cornered, and as I shrugged my consent and looked sheepishly from face to face, I tried to review just how things had gotten to this point.

"Sit down, Ruth. Let's get you more on Satan's level."

"Yeah, right," I said with more hostility than the situation needed. I felt badly. No one else seemed concerned.

I started to sit, but someone objected. "Hey Ruthie, not that one. Take the recliner under the lamp over there where we can all see better." To a chorus of yeahs I moved and settled in, steeling myself mentally to strike a blow for humankind against the great dog Satan and his evil plan to conquer the world. A few minutes of negligible effort ought to seal my place in the group.

Meanwhile, the others had turned toward the diningroom archway directly across from me. As the screen of skirts and slacks parted, I saw a disquieting apparition. I heard a few muffled Ohs, one of which could easily have come from me.

Moving toward me with the slow, soft tread of the confident hunter was an enormous black dog of unknowable heritage but unmistakable menace. Slender and muscular under his sleek blue-black coat, he headed straight toward me. His erect ears swiveled forward and his eyes fixed themselves purposefully on mine.

They were probably the ordinary eyes of any large dog. Under more benign circumstances they might have been adorably puppyish. Here, though, in this room with these expectations, reflecting the lamplight and looking almost level into mine, these were indeed the eyes of Satan. The deep, black, compelling eyes of Satan.

"My god, Fran," I began, "where did...."

"Uh uh, Ruthie. No fair talking. After all, Satan can't talk. It's only fair." It was Martha speaking, and for the first time I had a vague sense there was a secret that these three all knew, an unpleasant secret about a very big mistake I'd made.

But the situation had passed from my control. I'd try to analyze things later, but at the immediate moment I had a real job ahead of me. I had to ignore a genuine, four-footed, infinity-eyed, ask-for-it-by-name Satan with both the intention and the capability of hypnotising me. All doubt had fled. This dog could do it. To me. Now.

I made one final appeal, looking up anxiously at Fran. "But how can I..."

"Don't bother, Ruthie dear," Fran said sympathetically; " it won't do any good. It's already started."

But it hadn't. It hadn't started because here I was, looking at Fran instead of Satan. That was my salvation. All I had to do was look elsewhere, anywhere else at all, and the eyes of Satan would be irrelevant. They could sparkle in the light, they could stare, they could do anything the damned dog chose, just as long as I wasn't gazing into them. Ha! Take that, stupid dog. Human uses head, human beats brute. Human 1, dog 0.

But my triumph faded with one simple, low growl from Satan's throat. Reflexively I responded to the implicit threat. I looked at him. I looked directly into those infinite eyes. I looked straight and wide-eyed into them. I recognised my mistake at once. Panic seized me. Alarms went off inside my head. NOW. LOOK AWAY NOW. BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE. LOOK AWAY NOW. NOW!

I wanted to. Oh god, how I wanted to. I knew it was happening. I knew I was losing it. I twisted my head. I strained my neck. I grimaced. But our eyes remained stuck and no amount of squirming or groaning would unstick them.

I fought. I summoned every ounce of willpower. I squirmed in the recliner. I dug my fingers into its puffy velour. I pressed my head back into its pillow. The harder I tried, the firmer was the lock. Intellectually I knew I was tightening his hold by fighting it. It was like a Chinese finger-trap: you can only pull your fingers out by relaxing and pushing them farther in. But emotionally I was in full-blown panic and couldn't stop struggling.

I tried to kick out at the beast, to distract him somehow, to injure him, to drive him away, even simply to make him blink. But he stood just beyond my reach, and all the exertion succeeded only in tiring me more quickly and convincing me more fully of the hopelessness of my position. He stood there immobile, unswerving in his purpose, uncaring for my distress, dead on-course to tallying me among his conquests. Fran was right. A dog was hypnotising me.

Fatigue set in. It pervaded my whole body, starting with my legs so weary from kicking, and moving smoothly and unopposed through my pelvis and back and chest and shoulders, fanning out into my arms and neck. When it reached my head it marched up over my scalp and down my face until my eyelids became impossibly heavy and my mouth fell open.

The fatigue gradually gave way to an odd sense of well-being. What might be comforting about the undeniable fact that I was subordinating myself to a dog was a puzzle that flitted briefly through my mind and disappeared without a trace.

Parts of my world and even parts of me began to disappear. The room narrowed inward from the corners of my vision until all I could see were those unrelenting eyes. Eyes that floated unattached and unsupported. Eyes that commanded my conscious attention while my subconscious methodically detached and discarded pieces of me.

My feet and legs became devoid of all nerve and muscle connections and faded from my sight and mind. My lower body and trunk and then my upper body and arms went away. I was left with my head, now the virtually useless repository of a befogged brain.

And still I couldn't tear my eyes away from the damned beast's. He never moved. Not a muscle. I sat completely enthralled, waiting for I knew not what. I couldn't move, I couldn't look away, I had no body. What the hell was I waiting for? What could possibly come next?

What came next was a surprise. It was Fran's voice, soft and strong and seductive and irresistible. "Close your eyes, Ruthie dear. Close you eyes and fall into a deep, deep sleep."

I did. It was a great relief. I sank into the chair and sighed.

"Ruthie dear, are you hypnotised?"

My mouth didn't work. It blew little bubbles, but it made no sound.

"You may speak, dear. You may speak when I ask you a question. Try again. Are you hypnotised?"

I tried harder. Something like "Yes" came out.

"That's right, Ruthie dear. You're hypnotised. Who hypnotised you? Who hypnotised you, Ruthie?"

The mouth worked a little better. "Dog."

"No, dear. Dogs can't hypnotise people. You know that. Only people can hypnotise people. So who hypnotised you, Ruthie? You put you into this wonderful, peaceful, relaxed sleep?"

I couldn't think. I thought Satan had hypnotised me. If it wasn't Satan, then who was it? I groped for an answer. Fran was waiting for an answer. Fran was waiting. Fran. I said "Fran."

"That's right, Ruthie dear. I hypnotised you. And now I shall help you realise the full potential of this deep, deep relaxation, this deep sleep. Would you like that, Ruthie dear? Would you like to relax even more deeply?"

I managed another Yes.

As Fran spoke to me I surrendered to a peaceful reverie. My mind opened to her. She evoked wonderful emotions I'd never known were there, emotions of love and tenderness and passion and lust and belonging and yearning.

Fran's voice was so sweet, her words so comforting, so caring. As I drifted through time and space, I listened, allowing myself to be carried along by the gentle tide of her speech.

I felt an increasing sense of warmth, of growing comfort, of peace. Fran had hypnotised me and was now helping me to relax deeper. Deeper and deeper.

The warm feeling gradually seemed to change, a subtle transition from a wonderful sensation of total relaxation to a slight tingle of something much more intense, and yet much less definable. That feeling spread quickly now, fanned by Fran's words, words which I could no longer make out on a conscious level. But somewhere in my mind, I was listening, accepting, learning.

Unfamiliar thoughts began to waft slowly through my clouded mind. A brief image of Fran, smiling happily, her bra falling to the floor. How strange, and yet how natural that seemed to be. Another image. A mirror. Me looking back at myself. My body naked, glistening as if wet. My nipples erect. Was I dreaming? Why would I dream of such things? Was this real? Why on earth would these things really be happening to me? This must be a dream.

I began to imagine sounds as well. A soft sigh. A wet, smacking sound that I could not identify at first. Another image flashed though my mind, an image of me looking in the mirror as I masturbated. And I knew what that sound had been. Fascinated by these images, these unbidden thoughts, I drifted deeper and deeper, allowing Fran's voice to gently wash away every last bit of tension, every last bit of nervousness. It had to be a dream. A strange and beautiful dream. Or - was it a vision of things to be?

I had never in my life felt so wonderful.

The warm feeling was stronger now, the heat spreading rapidly. There didn't seem to be any one place it had begun, it was everywhere. Fran's soothing voice took me even deeper as I dimly noticed that the secret place between my legs seemed to be even warmer than the rest of me.

Fran's voice droned on, and the ability to form any thoughts of my own was soon lost. I floated easily on the sound of her voice, allowing her words to sink deep, deep into my mind.

Slowly, I became aware of a new sound. I thought for a moment, wondering what that sound might be. It seemed to take quite a while before I realized there was a total silence in my world. The silence was the sound that I was puzzling about.

Puzzling. I was puzzling. I could think again. Surprised at this new development, I sighed and wondered what to do with this newfound ability.

Input. I needed input to think about. I opened my eyes. I noticed the lights had been turned down.

I was in the recliner. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Fran standing to my left, a warm smile on her face. Warm. Something in me flared to life. She was fully clothed, and I dimly realized that I was too. It had been a dream. I was vaguely disappointed.

I tried to speak, finding it impossible. My mouth didn't seem to work right. A soft voice to my right whispered something, and I found a cup of water being held to my lips. Grateful, I drank some and tried my mouth again. It worked much better this time.

"Fran..."

Her first response was a soft, gentle finger pressed lightly against my lips.

"Shush, Ruthie, dear. Just relax for a moment while Martha makes things a bit more comfortable for you."

I was already wonderfully comfortable. What was she talking about? I looked down to see Martha bending down over my feet. A moment later, my shoes were on the floor. I was surprised at how nice it felt to be able to wiggle my toes freely. Sighing happily, I let my head fall back against the head of the recliner. Oh, yes. I really did feel more comfortable.

And so - warm.

Why was I in the recliner? The last I knew I had been talking to Fran about her dog. What was going on? How had I come to be sitting here?

I looked over at Fran, who just smiled and shook her head.

"Hush, Ruthie. Jane has something for you."

For me? I was new to their little group, why would one of them have something for me already?

Curious, I looked at Jane. She winked at me and knelt at the foot of the recliner. My eyes widened in shock as I watched the big toe of my right foot disappear into her mouth. Her wet...warm...mouth.

So warm.

Stunned, my eyes darted back to Fran, who just smiled. I looked back at my feet, expecting to find that I had been dreaming. I hadn't. Jane was there, gently licking and kissing my toes. Now she straightened and began to massage them, her tender touch feeling absolutely delightful.

I was getting a foot massage.

My head fell back again. I was utterly unable to come up with a reason for any of this. But it felt so good, and my whole body felt so - warm.

Almost hot now.

Hot.

So hot.

My eyes widened as I finally realized the cause of that heat.

I was aroused. How did that happen?

I stared down at Jane, who smiled back up at me as her hands gently working against the flesh of my feet. I was already utterly limp, and this was almost too much for me to bear.

An involuntary shudder rippled up from my feet, all the way up my body until my hair felt as if it was standing on end. I gaped stupidly at Jane, who smiled and slowly slid her hands up to my ankles.

Groaning, I fell back against the recliner again. This was so unreal, and yet it seemed familiar, somehow. There was nothing wrong with this. I felt so wonderful, and there was no reason to feel nervous about that.

"Ruthie, dear, Martha wants to help again as well."

Fran's seductive voice came just seconds before I felt soft hands on my shoulders. I tilted my head back to find Martha behind the recliner, smiling upside-down at me as she began massaging my neck and shoulders.

Jane was caressing my feet, her hands sliding upwards now and again to a point just below my knees. Martha stood behind me, massaging me as well. My body felt heavy and limp as a wet sponge. I tried to look back at Martha again, but I couldn't move a muscle. As Jane gently squeezed my unresponsive calf muscles, she breathed softly on my feet. Her breath was so - warm.

Martha's hands were moving up and down my arms now. Jane's hands were sliding up and down my legs, always pausing just as they worked their way underneath my skirt. I could only lie there, staring up at the ceiling, as they went on and on, turning my body into a mass of limp, useless, totally sensitized flesh.

Movement was impossible. But while immobile, I could still feel every tiny sensation, every small movement of their hands, their fingers, their mouths. For now Jane was kissing my shins, and Martha was bending over and kissing my forehead.

I groaned again. I was aroused. I knew I was aroused. And it was finally clear as to why.

Martha and Jane were turning me on. I was being seduced by their gentle caresses, their tender touches, their inviting lips.

I was being seduced by women. Two women, women I was not very familiar with, were touching me, caressing me, relaxing me - arousing me.

Seducing me.

Way down in my mind, a tiny alarm bell sounded. Faint, muted, but an alarm just the same. Fran moved back into my field of vision to stand beside me.

"Fran...", I managed to croak hoarsely, my eyes widening with dawning understanding and a growing nervousness. Did I really want this? I tried to reach for her, to cling to her, to ask her why I felt this way. My body shuddered as I tried in vain to command it to move. Martha and Jane worked on, not bothered at all by my last feeble resistance.

"Don't bother, Ruthie, dear", Fran said soothingly. "It won't do any good. It's already started."

I went utterly limp, staring at her in amazement. I had heard those words before, I knew I had. And those words had proven correct before, I somehow realized, as I slowly started to put the pieces together.

A low rumble made me strain my eyes all the way to my left. A huge black shape appeared, to stand quietly beside Fran. She reached down and put her hand lovingly on the beast's head.

"Good boy, Satan. Good boy."

Satan.

The eyes of Satan.

Just as Martha's hands slipped inside my blouse to find my nipples already erect, just as Jane's fingers snaked inside my panties to find my pussy already steaming, it all came back to me.

I had been hypnotised.

By Satan.

No. By Fran.

I had been hypnotised by Fran. I slowly realized that the others had seemed to know what was going to happen. Had they been hypnotised at some point as well? Were Martha and Jane, who were so thoroughly seducing me, hypnotised right now?

That thought sent my mind spinning away into another world.

I lay in the recliner, staring into the eyes of Satan as the two women brought me to a series of wonderfully dreamy climaxes. Dreamy. So dreamy. I came and I relaxed some more and I came and I relaxed some more until the two sensations became indistinguishable. Relaxation and pleasure. Drifting lazily in a fog of ecstasy, I noticed the eyes of Satan were becoming dimmer, hazier.

"Good boy, Satan. Good boy. Sleep now, Ruthie, love, sleep and listen."

The eyes of Satan, I thought dreamily, as everything went dark.

It was so nice to hear Fran's voice.

"Ruthie dear, are you hypnotised again?"

My body still tingling with pure pleasure, I could feel myself smiling.

Hypnotised. Oh, yes. I've been hypnotised again.

"Yes", I whispered thickly, smiling happily.

"Who hypnotised you, Ruthie?"

I could still feel something warm pressing against my panties. I could still feel gentle fingers closing about my hard nipples. Was I dreaming? Did it matter? Fran's voice was waiting, waiting for my answer. I shuddered as yet another feeling of pure joy rippled through me. Fran was waiting.

"Fran."

"That's right, dear. I hypnotised you. And you know, deep inside, that I am going to hypnotise you again, many times, in the future, just as I have hypnotised you and your friends, here, now. Does that thought trouble you in any way, Ruthie, dear?"

Somehow I sensed that my top was being undone. I sensed that my skirt had been raised up, that my panties were being pulled away. I did not resist, could not resist, did not want to resist at all.

I had been hypnotised.

I had been seduced.

It didn't trouble me at all.

"No", I whispered.

Soft, warm lips pressed against mine. Fran's voice seemed so close, so warm.

"Thank you, Ruthie dear. Thank you very much indeed. And now, dear, you may relax or awaken as you wish, knowing in your heart that you may return to this deep, relaxed, hypnotic state any time I ask you to."

Her voice was gone. In it's place was the sensation of warm, soft lips wrapping around a warm, hard nipple.

I lay there in an exquisite twilight world of pleasure as my three friends made me feel things I had never dreamed possible. Some time later, I came somewhat to my senses and decided I should return their favors.

In a corner, unaware of the results of his efforts, Satan slept peacefully. The sharp cries and low moans did not disturb him at all.

The End.