The Kissing Spell Pt. 02

Finishing his breakfast, all he could do was sit and stare at her note, wondering when she would try to see him again.

* * *

Jon spent his Saturday afternoon thinking solely about the strangest Friday he'd ever had. He tried to put it out of his mind how it was the sexiest Friday, hell, the sexiest day of his life. Granted, he wasn't used to women like Sabrina. The number of girlfriends in his life just barely made it past the number of fingers on one hand, and all of them could fit the description of 'conventional'. Women whom were nice enough, modest, attractive, easily the kind of woman he could bring to meet any mother. Jesse, despite being the best of them at the beginning, ended up being rather flaky, and uninterested.

Thinking of Sabrina by comparison made every woman before her seem like acquaintances. It was strange; he was afraid of her, she manipulated him probably like many of their co-workers, set terms he had to follow no matter how much he fought, but that fear was a turn-on, just like the rest of her. Bright, almost fiery red hair, a hidden Irish accent that he heard slip out once or twice, very confident, sassy, skillfully manipulative, and very passionate when she wanted to be. There were even similarities they shared, as being individuals who had no problem standing alone, and didn't back down or scare easily.

A few months into her beginning to work at the office, she agreed to joining them for drinks, something Jon only did occasionally as to keep up a decent rapport with co-workers. They happened to leave a few minutes apart, just enough time to see Sabrina being pressed against a building by a mugger on an empty street, demanding her purse. Fortunately the mugger never noticed Jon, thanks in part to Sabrina elbowing him in his chest. After separating the mugger from her, Jon swept him from under his legs and knocked him out cold with a solid punch. He asked if she was ok, and to his surprise, her expression looked like his - angered and in-control it, a far cry from shocked, fearful look he expected. After, they silently walked together toward her car, not a word spoken between them except for her whispered "thank you" as she drove off. He wanted to bring up how questionable her actions were. She didn't notice Jon before she elbowed the guy, so her options were to somehow take down someone bigger than her (maybe she had mace in her purse?), or run away in heels. He never bothered to though. She wasn't stupid, she had to know what her actions could lead to. He imagined it was pride more than anything, especially the way her look declared "I can handle myself."

It was funny to imagine someone like Sabrina, dressed in her usual blouse, skirt, stockings and heels, fighting dangerous men trying to assault her. Then he remembered what she did to him and it was more feasible than funny, how she might be indomitable one way or another. The night of the assault began playing out differently in his mind - her hypnotizing with typical tools of her trade, like a pocket watch or being told to look into her eyes. Leaning against the cushions of his couch, with eyes closed he saw that same mugger from almost a year ago, looking docile and lost, on his knees in front of Sabrina who swung a pocket watch at his eye level, speaking in low sensual, hypnotic tones, her 'rescuer' watching from a distance as she snapped her fingers and he fell to the ground unconscious, knocked out this time by softer means. After she was done with him, she turned to see Jon further away, having watched her overpower him. She stepped over the assailant gracefully and cruxed her fingers. His legs moved at her insistence as they came closer to each other. Jon shook himself from the thought, and realized he'd been stroking his arousal with his hand on the front of his pants. He quickly splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom, let his excitement deflate, and decided to leave his apartment.

Driving around the city to get his mind off things was his plan, not caring where he ended up. Fortunately Saturday was a nice, sunny day. There were lakes, parks, and museums as options, in or outside of the city depending on how much he felt like getting away from things. However, it didn't sit well with him that things still felt unresolved. He'd probably, hopefully have time off Saturday and Sunday to get his mind off things, or sort his feelings out. But come Monday, coming face-to-face with Sabrina again, all bets would be off. With problems like this, Jon didn't prefer letting them eventually come to him if he could help it. Instead of a scenic location, Jon drove to the office, looked into personnel files, and got what he needed.

* * *

Sabrina picked up her cellphone, and saw someone from work was calling her. Other than the time she made Bevy to call her from the office on a Saturday as a post-hypnotic suggestion, she never received calls from work on the weekend. She had a guess of who it could be, but answered generically.

"Hello?"

"..."

"Hello? Does someone from the office need something?"

Jon contemplated hanging up, but knew there was no point backing down now. "...what do you want from me Sabrina?"

"Oh, hello Jonathan," she said cheerfully. "What I want from you...is a good question."

"You're telling me you don't know?"

"It's true, I don't really have any set plans for you."

"But you've given it some thought already."

"It wouldn't be anything hazardous if that's what you're worried about."

"That doesn't make me worry any less."

Sabrina sighed, "look...meet me at Lenords in an hour."

"The diner on 12th?"

"Yes."

"Why should I meet you?"

"Because my battery is about to go out, and I assume you want to continue this conversation. And at least you'd have a fighting chance in a public place," Sabrina added with sass.

"Fine."

He hung up and left the office hoping he didn't make a mistake.

* * *

He arrived 10 minutes before their meeting time at Lenords. He ordered a soft drink and french fries and sat, waiting, trying to think exactly how he should approach their talk. He'd been doing it ever since the phone call, but now his mind ran in nervous overdrive to make sure she couldn't get the upper-hand easily like last time.

Any valid plan he thought he had come crashing down the moment Sabrina sat across from him in the booth. The french fries arrived seconds later, and she asked the waitress to bring her a soft drink as well. An earnest smile greeted him from across the table.

"May I?" she asked as her hand began reaching for a fry.

"Go ahead."

She took one and squirted a thin line of ketchup along it, enjoying it.

"So, where did we leave off from?"

"We never got past 'what do you want from me'."

"Which I believe I replied with 'I don't quite know yet'. But the look on your face says 'that's not good enough.'"

"Admirable deductive skills." He reached for a fry and added ketchup to it.

"How about 'what do you want, Jonathan?' I assume you'd like something else from our exchange."

Jon leaned back into his seat and thought about the most diplomatic, straight-forward request he could make.

"Quid pro quo."

"Ok, that makes things interesting. But will we both answer our questions candidly?"

"Hopefully we can."

"I hope for your sake too."

"Well, ladies first."

"Your chivalry is appreciated. Ok, my first question - was that the best kiss you've ever had?"

Jon folded his arms and looked around the restaurant as if searching for an answer, both things Sabrina expected him to do. Had he huffed instead of sighed, it would've completed the image of him in her head.

"Yes, it was the best I could remember."

"And you remember all your kisses?"

"It's my turn to ask."

Sabrina smiled. "You're right. My mistake."

"What have you been doing to people at the office? Honestly."

"Jonathan, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I haven't been doing anything nearly as nefarious as you might think I have. Most of it would amount to silly parlor tricks, things you might see at a hypnosis stage show, PG-rated."

"Such as?"

"That's two questions Jonathan."

"Fine, you get to ask two yourself then."

"Fair enough. The most common thing I've been doing is my job, which is helping people with the stress of their jobs, as my job description states. With that, I get to test the depths of hypnosis they can reach, in order for me to help them. However, when my suggestions aren't... work-related, some of my 'evil deeds' include suggesting to the receptionists that gossiping is something they'd be happier not engaging or encouraging, telling a few of the bickering employees that if they were to continue starting trouble, they would simulate something like farm animals if and when their arguments were unproductive and needless. The most interesting case would be your friend Marcus. He-"

"What did you do to Mark?" he nearly choked on a few fries.

"I'll let that one slide. If Marcus is your friend, then you know about his flirtatious tendencies. I had something silly for him in mind, like forgetting his name for a minute, but when he tried turning his 'charms' on me, it was surprisingly more insulting than whimsical to watch him try, so I helped him see things a little differently."

Jon's face asked what his mouth didn't, not wanting to give her three questions.

"I helped his...'inner man's-best-friend' shall we say, come to the surface. I think he's much happier literally imitating one, also with the discovery of how good he feels when he treats women better; a woman's-best-friend, if you will. Appreciating them and earning their praise should be a much more fulfilling pursuit instead of just trying to get into their pants."

Jon closed his eyes and absentmindedly shook his head. He'd always told Mark that he'd get himself in trouble like that one day, but envisioned the herculean effort it'd take to keep him out of trouble for good. Under better circumstances, he could easily convey his being impressed. Sabrina sensed this and was glad Jon wasn't going to argue about it, especially since she'd be reinforcing it over time with his friend. It did help with the illusion of how persuasive she could really be; she almost was, but she enjoyed Jon thinking she really was.

"Now it's my turn again. Knowing what you know now, do you feel the need to taddle on me?"

Jon looked at her evenly as she sipped her drink. "As much as I think you've been skirting some professional boundaries, I would say no. But the chances of you having an 'understanding' with Bevy by now are already high, aren't they?"

"Is that rhetorical?"

He searched a face that gave nothing away concerning Bevy. "Yeah, it is. Your next question?"

"Have you ever been hypnotized before this?"

"No. People have tried in psychology studies, and a stage show once; nothing took. I've been told I might not be that good of a hypnotic subject. 'High resistance, or highly stubborn,' someone once guessed."

"And my CD worked where other efforts failed."

"Was that a question?"

"No, just noting that with you, it's probably a matter of motivation. Something positive to offer you if you did go under. That and you may have been underestimated as a subject. People with good imaginations more times than not make great subjects."

"What were your original intentions with me?"

"With you, I didn't have any set plans. The more I looked at you, the more I thought about how you need to relax and not be so, or look so..."

"What?"

"Maybe...'rigid' is the word."

"Hence the relaxation CD."

"After the CD worked, I thought about turning you over to the dark side, becoming my evil, loyal minion." She waved her red, polished fingernails at him theatrically, happy to see his eyes follow the movement for those few seconds. "That kiss... changed things though."

"How?"

"Actually it's my turn Jonathan. When you went into hypnosis for me, how did it feel for you? I'd like you to be specific and honest about it."

"It..." Jon began, but felt afraid to reminisce about that feeling, partially afraid it would come over him and visibly show in front of the person who'd caused it. "It was like sleeping but different. The way your CD worked was impressive as it masqueraded as something else entirely in the beginning. Somewhere in listening to it and to you, I felt like I lost my sense of...sense. It was out of body. and Pleasant."

He looked up to see one naturally-red eyebrow raised up, and her index finger rhythmically tapping her lips.

"Yes, the kiss changed things. It was a deeper level. More...pleasant than before."

"I wonder if 'pleasant' is adequate-enough a word, but anyway, where'd you learn to fight?"

"You mean physically or mentally?"

"I mean the one where you actually put up a fight."

His eyes narrowed to slits and he sighed. "I liked fighting games, video games, as a kid. Street Fighter and games like that, and it inspired me to learn martial arts for real. I've studied them since middle school, and I'm decent with it. Good for fitness and self-control."

"Or just fitness."

"Don't expect my skills to be utilized like an 'evil minion' for you."

"They'll come in handy, I'm sure. But your skills aren't what make you attractive to me, not completely anyway. And I prefer my form of fighting, where you happen to be not as big a challenge as you think you are."

"Where did you learn your minion-making skills?"

"Oddly enough, comic books at first, plus strong women in my family who garnered lots of control. Growing up, I'd never seen a more fascinating phenomena than mind control, so that inspired me to follow psychology and hypnosis in school, and as a profession. Learning how the mind works, the ways around and into it, how you can influence it. It's quite a passion for me, but I'm sure you already knew that Jonathan."

"Why do you always refer to people by their proper name?"

"One of the many traits I picked up from my mother. Her family's very high-class in Ireland, and she was sometimes expected to use proper names. I like the sound of proper names over shorter ones anyway. Jonathan sounds much more handsome to me than just 'Jon.'"

"And what if it's a name like Al, which could be Albert, Alvin, Alonzo, etc.?"

"Are you giving me two questions again?"

"Sure, why not?."

"If they call themselves Al, I'll ask what their full name is. If they won't say, I might call them by their last name."

"Not surprising."

"What can I say? I like things my way."

"Not everything can go your way."

"Oh? Have you tried pleasuring yourself while thinking of me yet?"

Sabrina couldn't help but laugh at him then, with his eyes narrowing again, blushing cheeks, swallowing slowly to ensure his drink didn't go down the wrong pipe.

"Well, Jonathan?"

"Not on purpose."

"That doesn't sound like a 'no' to me."

"Well what the hell do you expect" he replied quickly.

"I expect to have left quite an impression on you. Next question - do you want more?"

"More of what?"

"You know." Jon had to meet the captivating twinkle in her eye with a serious glance.

"Consider what you're offering Sabrina. You're asking if I want to be manipulated, toyed with by you, blind-sided and used for your amusement. Who the hell would agree to that?"

"More people than you know, in many situations. Funny enough, your subconsciousness doesn't agree with you, if your answer is actually 'no'."

"Why would it be 'yes'?"

"It would be yes if you truly understood what I'm offering. You spoke of 'pleasant, out of body sensations,' when you and I both know that you were under-selling how it really felt. Listening to my voice felt good, feels good in fact, when you really listen to it, when you actually hear what I'm saying Jonathan."

Sabrina reached across the table to cover his fingers with her own. Instead of pulling his hand away, he just looked at her looking directly back at him, physically trying to bring more attention to her eyes, instead of her lips. She leaned her head forward, drawing his eyes closer to hers as she continued speaking.

"I am asking if you want to be manipulated, which would mean a deep connection to the woman who makes you feel more than pleasant. Manipulation would not be mistreatment, but simply mesmerism. You would fall under for me into a relaxing state, all your cares whisked away and set aside while you feel the pleasure of my words, the pleasure of suggestions that tell you to breathe slowly, deeply, easily. More suggestions would follow, all designed to give you pleasure, feeling good as you would do as I wish. And my wish is for you to do nothing more than listen to me and do things that would please both you and I."

Sabrina's tone lowered and tempo slowed, while the Gaelic lilt crept back into her voice.

"To be toyed with isn't terrible, but it is tempting. Imagine just the two of us, you a captive audience to anything I present to you that's appealing and fascinating. Watching my hands as they form an irregular, compelling motion. Watching my lips as they spell out the pleasure you'll be feeling. Watching my eyes as they watch you look in their azure depths. How deep do my eyes go? How deep is the color in your eyes, in my eyes? Is it like a pool, a beautiful lake, a far-reaching ocean? Would toying with you be letting you stare into my eyes, comfortably and safely sinking into them, and bring you back only to leave to anticipate the next opportunity to fall back into my eyes?"

A haze formed around her face the more she talked about it. He knew what she was doing, surprised at first that she would actually try it here. Whether it convinced him enough or not, it still distracted him from realizing her whole hand almost completely covered his, softly blanketing it in warmth.

"My amusement is in how you try to fight this, when we both know you this is something you, we, want. I remember or first kiss well. It redefined 'blind-siding' for me, how your fantasies took over, and our lips joined together in a passionate dance. If you look into my eyes just a little more, you might imagine two people on a dance floor. Strangers, yet have an air of comfort and chemistry between them. It doesn't matter who offers to lead, not when they're so well-suited for each other. A soft aura, a refreshing connection they share with one another. They waltz, inevitably pressed together; mild at first, then very warm, becoming sultry before they even realize it. They dance like we kiss, the enchantment sweeps over both of us, and let's us enjoy our time together with no regret. When have you ever regretted feeling so good? I absolutely revel in that closeness. I want to be that woman dancer, so close to my partner, our foreheads pressed together, where I'm his only concern, his entire world. Where he looks into my eyes, drowns in them, and becomes all mine. And my eyes have such an inviting color, making it easy to enter them, to want to enter them. Do you want to enter my eyes, Jonathan?"

"I...I..." Inaudible lip movement indicated to the hypnotist the edge he teetered on. Jon felt Sabrina's seductive power begin to fully wash over him all over again. Steeling himself as much as he could may not have lasted long for him. He wanted to pull his hand away, but his hand betrayed him, preferring feeling her warmth over obeying his brain. Much of the restaurant seemed to blur as Sabrina's deep blue eyes held him. Looking into them felt like tight-roping over an abyss, and one slip was all it took for her words to become real.

"I...know...what..you're..doing," she heard him whisper.

"And I want you to admit that you want this Jonathan. Right now."

He remained silent for a few minutes, thinking about her words. Her command to have him speak immediately for her struck him unexpectedly. Jon felt combative feelings rising in him, and with it slowly growing determination to not give in. As it reflected in his face and in his breathing, Sabrina casually removed her hand and leaned back against the booth cushion, taking the focus of her eyes away, letting his vision clear. Consciousness eventually came back, and he found Sabrina looking at him with a satisfied smile, as if she'd still gotten something out of this. Nothing was said as she rose from the booth, and left. He watched her walk away, noting the sway in her hips and trying to put together how easy that was for her. He took a few minutes to collect himself, letting the hidden arousal subside, paying for his order and left.