Spiral Room

When she wakes up, she is nude and strapped to a chair in a pitch-black room.

My head feels fuzzy... Where am I? What happened?

She tries to piece together the events of the night. She remembers volunteering for a stage hypnotist at an adult show in a club downtown. She expected to watch a pocket-watch, pretend to slip into a trance, strip for the crowd, maybe cluck like a chicken or whatever. But when she sat down onstage, the hypnotist had spoken in such a deep, commanding voice, had guided her to just listen to the sounds of his voice, to watch his fingertips as they fluttered around in front of her eyes, that she discovered the true meaning of "hypnosis." It wasn't just a show. She wasn't acting. She was blank, so wonderfully blank. Not a thought in her mind. Jaw hanging open. Eyelids fluttering. Completely unable to form a single thought longer than two words long, and even those soon drifted away from her tired mind, gone just moments later, not needed. She had felt his fingers getting close enough to her forehead that she could feel the sensation of their closeness, had heard his commanding, hypnotic voice telling her that the moment he did tap her forehead, she would drop into a deep, inescapable trance.

She squirms in the chair, acutely aware and slightly ashamed of how wet the memory of his touch taking away her mind makes her.

Flashes of subsequent memories pass before her mind's eye. Getting naked for the crowd to their cheers. A snap of his fingers sweeping her legs out from under her, making her drop to her knees. Sucking his cock to applause and cheers as her wetness dripped down her legs. I could stop if I wanted to... she had thought, but something about his hand on the back of her head, his fingernails gently scratching her scalp - something about it made her feel so deliciously helpless and exposed. She wanted more. She had gotten him close, tasted his precum, felt his cock throbbing and pulsing in her mouth as her toes curled, and then was made to stop as he moved on to the other volunteers. The next memory: dropping even deeper as his hands pressed into her head with firm circular patterns, and a whisper into her ear that made her shiver with tingles. "Come backstage after the show if you want more."

She nodded in response, head bobbing up and down and up and down. Then, a flash of the hypnotist's dressing room, bathed in orange light, sitting on a couch. She remembers sitting there on the soft cushion, thanking him for the trance, thanking him for inviting her backstage... and then nothing. A different kind of blank. Nothing left. Knowing that she could not know shocked her spine like a lightning bolt.

And now I'm here... She didn't remember willingly walking into this room or nodding vigorously when asked "Do you want to be brainwashed for me?"

She didn't need to know all that now. She tries to take inventory, tries filling her head again with simple, declarative, true thoughts. I can't see anything. I'm naked. My head feels fuzzy... I'm strapped to a chair...

Just then, a door opens behind her and illuminates the room for a moment. Before everything goes dark again, she can make out the surfaces of the three walls, ceiling, and floor - they look like blank black TV screens. She calls out with much less force than she had in her head, "Who are you and what have you done to me? Let me... let me go."

All she gets in response is a cruel little laugh. She recognizes his deep voice; it sends a shiver down her spine and her clit betrays her by throbbing. He strokes her hair for a moment, then grips her chin with his right hand. She whimpers, clenches her thighs together. Then, another delicious whisper right into her ear, making her entire body tingle. "Don't you remember? You volunteered for this."

"N-not for this! Where am I? What are you going to do to me?"

He pulls back with another confident laugh and says, "You'll see."

She hears the click of a switch. The screen walls, floor, and ceiling turn on, opening on a blank white background. She pulls at her wrist restraints in a show of utter futility; the leather straps won't budge.

Another switch clicks, and a single black-and-white spiral fills all five of the giant screens, spreading outward from the floor beneath her, turning very slowly, almost imperceptibly. She stutters, "Wh-what d-do think you're doing?"

No answer. The patterns all around her start to swirl a bit faster. She feels, in her stomach, a feeling like increased gravity, a powerful pull. Her head feels so fuzzy. The spiral is pulling her thoughts away...

No! She decides to resist. She must resist. She only met this man today. She can't just surrender all her thoughts to him. The only course of action seems to be to squeeze her eyes shut. Faint footsteps can be heard as he walks around her. When he sees her closed eyelids, he gives a disapproving "Tch" and strokes her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Come, now. What's the point of fighting it? We both know the moment your eyes open, you will fall into the deepest trance of your life. You can't fight it. You don't want to fight it."

Can't... fight it... she thinks, biting her lip. "No!" she says, squeezing her eyes even tighter and shaking her head so vigorously that her hair whips around. She can feel its strands tapping against her shoulders and lightly brushing against his arm.

He grips her chin, tilts her head up, presses his lips to hers from above for a moment before pulling back and saying, "Such an adorable attempt at resistance."

He walks around behind her again, cups her ears, making her hear sounds like the inside of a seashell, then taps her lobes with his fingers, sending tingles down her spine and into her legs. Another helpless little whimper. The smell of her wetness wafts into their noses as the puddle beneath her on the chair grows. He grins, moves his hands to her eyelids, runs his fingertips over their soft skin. He grips both top and bottom for a moment, pulls them apart ever so slightly as she squeezes them as tightly as possible. "I could force you to open your eyes if I really wanted to... but I want you to do this voluntarily. I want you to remember the power I have over your mind, how good it felt to be helplessly hypnotized up on my stage. This room is where I am at my most powerful, and you are at your most helpless. Resist for as long as you like, but only willing subjects can fall into trance. And you are a willing subject."

She remembers the feelings he tells her to remember. Her lips move, almost unconsciously, with a silent whisper. I am... a willing... subject.

"Say it."

She bites her bottom lip, quivers, shudders, shivers, shakes her head ever so slightly. He grabs both sides of her head, presses into her temples with circular motions that fill her with a pleasant pressure. He says again, slower, "Say. It."

She obeys, audible now. "I am... a willing... subject."

"Good girl," he coos. "See, it's not so hard to tell the truth. Be a good, obedient subject for me and open your eyes."

"Yes... Master."

He grins as his cock throbs for her submission. "Very good girl!"

The spirals on the surrounding screens had become much more intricate during the time in which she'd held her eyes shut. Two spirals now. The black-and-white one still swirls inward, joined by a pretty purple pattern moving outward. Her jaw drops instantaneously. One hand grips her chin; the other strokes her hair. The last of her conscious mind tries desperately to look away, but the room is made entirely of spirals; there is nowhere else to look. Reflections of the pretty patterns can now be seen superimposed over her irises. She tries to close her eyes again, but all she can manage is a brief blink, though her eyelids feel so very heavy... prompting them to flutter as his hands guide her head to sway slightly back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

"That's it... you can't resist any longer, because you just want to drop, deeper and deeper and deeper... Surrender your thoughts. Surrender your will. Feel more and more obedient as the spirals and my voice guide you ever-deeper."

Speaking is now very difficult, so she just nods and moans, "Mmhmm..."

His hands travel down from her head, over and below her sensitive neck, and tease her nipples. He grips her left breast as his right hand travels further down her soft skin, ending its journey between her legs. "Aww... you're so wet for me. Tell me how much you love being hypnotized."

Upon being told to speak, it becomes the easiest thing in the world. She lets his words guide her words and doesn't need to think at all before she says, "Yes, Master... it feels so good to surrender my will to you. I love being hypnotized."

"That's right. You will obey my every command."

"I obey your every command."

"You cannot resist."

"I cannot resist."

"You don't want to resist."

"I don't want to resist."

"You are helpless, horny, hypnotized."

"I am helpless... horny... hypnotized..."

"It feels so good to give in." He increases the pressure of his hand.

She moans. "Yes, Master... it feels so good... to give in."

"That's right. Good girl." His fingers begin pleasuring her in earnest, coaxing her clit with firm but gentle circles. She throws her head back, resting it against the back of the chair, looking at the spiral on the ceiling. As the pleasure overtakes her and all remnants of her conscious self give in, the spirals seem to project outward from the screens. Her jaw falls open as far as it can go as the swirling patterns begin to fill her eyes, replacing whites, irises, and finally pupils with reflections of the swirling black-and-white and purple patterns which have taken away her mind. From his perspective, his newest slave had finally surrendered the last of her will, her spiraling eyes the outward sign of the deepest possible inward submission.

From hers, she felt the last of her mind slip away, leaving only the spirals and her Master's will. He turned off the spirals on the screens, leaving only the blank white backgrounds to illuminate the room. The patterns still swirled in her eyes; everything she saw came through the filter of the spirals. She looked upon her Master's face through the spirals, eyelids fluttering, mind empty, mouth agape. The spirals would stay with her now, and she was utterly helpless, entirely entranced. So long as he wills it, she will be a slave to the spiral; the patterns will stay in her eyes, pulling away her thoughts from within. She ceases to form memories, cannot think a single word, surrenders to the void, surrenders to the will of her Master.