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| THE FINAL COUNTDOWN by Hypno_switch (c) 2006 All Rights Reserved This may be fact or fiction; or a bit of both. There's often a grain of myself in my stories. What you have to do is to figure out what part I may play in this. You'll have to read it carefully to figure this out, maybe a few times. I'm sure you won't find this a chore. Of course, the very idea of something like this happening is preposterous. I mean, it could never happen... right?? ---- New years day was going to be annoying. Greg was working on a problem and could really do without that day's interruption. He was up against a technical problem and a deadline. Unfortunately he'd been ushered out of the lab by the security guards wanting to lock up for the night, and there was no occasion for him to work tomorrow. To cap it all he'd stupidly agreed to have a drink with a friend of Doug, who had said that she was a lovely girl who would bring out his 'hidden potential' whatever that meant. One drink then, then back home to continue trying to find the problem with his calculations. When he got to the restaurant, Stella was waiting for him. She liked to wear a lot of jewelery, he thought. Lots of it sparkled, especially the pendant earrings and the jewel in her broad, black choker. Oh yes, and the pendant necklace that seemed to nestle between her rather eye-catching breasts. However, Greg was almost oblivious to her charms; he made small talk, ordered drinks and they sat down at a table. She chatted away whilst he pretended to hear and ran through the current density calculations that were troubling him. She was talking softly and didn't seem to require a response so he just thought and looked to her glass, which she was slowly rotating. It had an interesting stem. The deep red wine in it coloured the light filtering down into it, and the sharply cut glass then reflected and refracted it into patterns. As she spoke the patterns seemed to synchronise, and he.. his thoughts seemed disjointed, as though there were bits missing. The pretty, rotating patterns in the glass stem coupled with Stella's very seductive, low voice, seemed very easy to look at, to pay attention to but at the same time almost ignore.. VERY pretty.. " 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. Happy new year" the announcer said. Greg suddenly tried to regain his train of thought. What the hell? It was 9pm a few minutes ago, surely? Stella grinned at him and said "Happy new year! You seem to have spent ages grinning at me, lost in your own thoughts. Are you alright?" "Yes, of course, Ma'am" Greg said. Ma'am? When had he last said that? Ah well. "So, are you up for that club in a little?" whispered Stella. Greg nodded vigorously. He didn't actually remember being asked but the thought excited him. In odd ways. He finished his drink, and got lost in the pendant nestling in her chest for a little. *snap* went her fingers. "Get my coat" she said. Greg jumped to get it with an unusual eagerness. Since when did he feel so.. fulfilled..running around for a woman like that? He did like it rather though. He opened doors for her, and opened her car door. He got in the back and soon they pulled up at a club. All that the sign over the door said was "The cellar". Stella pushed an intercom button and said a few words and the lock buzzed. They entered, and Stella turned to face him and said, softly, "Get dressed for Me, maid" Greg knew that his clothes were in the bag she was holding. He looked and saw a french maid's outfit. A little part thought "NO way!!" but that was overshadowed by an urge to comply, by the thought "Mistress wants her maid to please her. I must look good". Greg dressed, carefully. He found it pleasing. Arousing. A little humiliating, but this too seemed... right. Greg followed his Mistress into the club proper. There were tables and chairs and a raised stage. Mistress told Greg to put their things away, and to wait on her and her friends. Greg ferried drinks, lit cigarettes, got food, and it felt so natural to do it. He could hear Mistress's voice telling him how good he was as he did. He wanted so much more of that. The party at Mistress's table was getting louder. Suddenly, she called him and said "Tell us your darkest fantasies, maid". He thought "No wa... " but the word 'maid' seemed to linger, and after all a maid MUST do what her mistress ordered.. Greg found himself saying "Well, I've always been in awe of powerful women. When I was younger I'd get aroused at the thought of being under the control of one, of HAVING to comply.." Stella raised her hand. "You already are. Look deeply into this, maid". She held up her pendant. The word 'maid' resounded again. Looking felt SO good, just then. He heard her say ".. cannot look away no matter HOW hard you try. As you realise you cannot, your submission to Me deepens. Try now, maid.." He could not. Oh god, This felt so good. It didn't matter that he could not look away as Mistress had captivated him, and he would serve her now and always. Without being told he knew this. She said a few more words but he recalled no more. Time and space were blank. Greg blinked. "Hey, it's 11:50 already!" Stella said. He was in the restaurant. It was obviously a dream he'd had. Wow, was it realistic. But what the hell, those things he'd dreamt of doing... He was so aroused thinking of it. He'd hardly dared acknowledge those thoughts, and to act on them even in a daydream.. he got them another drink, and with only 40 seconds to go to the new year, Stella raised her pendant and whispered, seductively, "Do you want to look into this, maid? You must; you can't look away.. when the count reaches zero, your fantasy will become reality. Each count takes you deeper into hypnotic submission to Me. Feel, now, how deeply hypnotised, deeply controlled, you already are. Each count takes you ten times deeper than the last. Count with the announcer, maid, and feel it happening, right now" '30' said the announcer, and "30" whispered Greg, with a look of blank blissfulness on his face. To be continued? |
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