I had been waiting eagerly for this. With the holiday on Monday, my girlfriend and I had both managed to get extra time off from our jobs, allowing us to spend a rare four-day weekend together. I had been fantasising about something in particular for a long time, something devious...

I adore Chloé. She’s clever, hilarious, beautiful, and highly sexual. Behind her innocent face, I had been amazed to discover a very kinky girl indeed. Her sex drive outpaces mine most of the time, and it’s hard to keep up sometimes.

At last Thursday had worn itself out, and we were at home, free to relax. As evening fell we were snuggling on the sofa eating stir-fry vegetables and noodles.

“So what do intend for us to do, my lover?” I asked.

“Not a damn thing!” She laughed. “I’m going to sit around in my pyjamas and binge Netflix.”

“Hey, if we’re just going to stay in, we could always get some cleaning done.”

“Shut up. I’m not spending my weekend being your maid.”

I laughed and stroked her long hair.

Fortunately, Chloé was a willing participant in my hypnosis fetish, indulging me gamely from the first time I had told her about it. And she had proved to be a wonderfully susceptible and supple subject. I never tired of the way she looked when I took her into a deep trance.

As we spooned together in bed that night, I began tracing a single finger down from her shoulder to her wrist, and back up again. Goosebumps shivered over her skin. As I repeated the motion, I could feel her automatically relaxing, so familiar was she by my method of inducting her.

She stayed silent as I whispered in her ear. I asked her to picture herself at the top of a long staircase, stretching down into darkness. I reminded her that with every step she took down the stairs, the further down into sleep she would drop. Her breathing slowed into a slow, measured rhythm as she walked down. I encouraged her along, explaining how each layer of resistance was fading away as she continued.

When she reached the bottom, I guided her through the next sequence. I told her to see a door, and explained that when she opened it, she would be in the deepest, safest part of her subconsciousness, ready to accept my commands without question. When she was ready, she opened it herself and stepped through. She released a dreamy sigh that informed me she was ready.

“Chloé, can you tell me where you are?” I asked.

“I’m in my Open Room.” She breathed.

“Yes, that’s good. And when you’re in here, the ideas I suggest to you become real to you, don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Can you remember the special message I once gave you, that you keep here in your Open Room?”

“Yes.”

“That’s very good. Now, I am going to tell you to keep something else here in your Open Room. You will leave it in here, and your waking mind will have no knowledge of it.” I took a breath, unsure if this next part was going to work or not.

“You will keep the idea of your own orgasm in this room. When you wake up, you will no longer remember how to orgasm. The very concept will not exist in your mind. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I will forget what orgasms are.” She seemed to accept it easily.

“You’re doing so very well. You will still enjoy sex. You will still feel all the arousal you normally feel. In fact, each wave of arousal will simply build and build on top of each other without fail. You won’t even know there is an end to your pleasure.”

“No end to my pleasure.”

“Excellent. And this secret knowledge will stay right here, in this place, until I speak aloud your special message. That phrase will be the key that will unlock your Open Room, and you will remember what knowledge you have hidden here.”

“I will remember.”

Satisfied, I let her leave her imaginary room and lock the door. She ascended the steps back to full awareness, and no memory of my instructions. She opened her eyes, yawned, and wriggled around to look at me.

“What did you do this time?” She asked, quizzically raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing at all, really …” I replied innocently, and kissed her.

* * *

Sunlight crept under the blinds on Friday morning, but we allowed ourselves a long lie in.

“How do you fancy getting dirty while we get clean?” Chloé sparkled with a mischievous look.

I grinned and reached under the covers to tickle her. She shrieked playfully and squirmed away from me. I chased her into the bathroom. Still giggling, she stripped out of her nightie and stepped into the shower. I joined her as she let the hot steamy of water soak into her fair hair.

Her laughter soon turned into trilling sighs as I devoted my soapy hands to massaging her body, carefully paying attention to every curve until I came to her breasts. Soon she was writhing back into me. She parted her legs and pressed her hands against the tiles to allow me to enter her.

I could never last long when I felt her slippery wet body against mine, under the hot sting of water, her moans urging me one. As my own breathing came back slowly down, I turned the shower off, letting the last drops trickle down our intertwined bodies. I swept her around to give her a kiss.

“That was fantastic, flower!”

She looked at me strangely, her cheeks flushing pink, as though she was searching for something. But then she smiled and returned my embrace.

We spent a pleasant day together, drinking coffee in our favourite café, and strolling through the park under the hot sun. I gauged that outwardly, she wasn’t all that different; a little more sparky and ebullient perhaps, but so was I, considering we were getting to spend precious time with one another. Still, I decided I would have to really push her buttons if I wanted to see any drastic difference.

On Saturday evening, as we lounged on the sofa, watching television, I commenced my attack. I began rubbing her thigh, gently yet insistently. Still focused on the television, she silently consented to my advances. She opened her legs slightly, inviting my hand to push in further. Soon I was rubbing the cotton fabric of her shorts between her legs. Still pretending to watch the screen, her laboured breaths revealed her rising arousal.

I was rewarded with a smouldering look I knew so well. She leapt onto me and kissed me. She pulled off her t-shirt and clawed at mine, raining hot kisses on my neck and chest once I was topless. She started to grind down on me, but I had other intentions. Easily lifting her up, I laid her flat on the floor. As she raised her hips in acquiescence, I slid her shorts down. She lay before me, naked, her arousal obvious. I tripped around until I was kneeling above her navel.

I lowered my head and drew out my tongue, tasting her, teasing her most intimate parts. Immediately I felt her do the same to my cock. It was electric. We kept our motions slow and steady for a while, but soon I was vigorously tickling her with my tongue. She tried to keep pace with me, but she was so turned on she had to cease to gasp and moan. I pulled away from her.

“Don’t ... stop! Don’t ... stop!" She muttered.

“Do you like it, when I lick your hot fucking cunt?” She loved it when I talked filthily. As a reply, she wrapped her lips around me once again and greedily sucked. Now it was my turn to lose control. I held on until I couldn’t.

My own urges satisfied, I could devote my full attention to Chloé’s torture. I repositioned my knees slightly so I was both resting lightly on her chest – carefully ensuring I only pressed enough weight upon her so she would be immobilised, but not uncomfortable – and pinning her arms by her sides. Grabbing her buttocks, I raised her by the hips, forcing her body to remain completely still as I held her. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for me to be in, but I was determined to remain there for as long as I possibly could.

I resumed my assault on her clitoris, now lapping with just as much pressure as I knew loved, then speedily swirling my tongue. I was rewarded by a delightful melody of gasps, as though she couldn’t retain enough air in her chest to breath, let alone beg.

Now pushing into her as deep as I could, I spiked my tongue and bobbed my head quickly and forcefully. I knew from experience just how this would drive her wild, and normally, would be enough to tip her over her edge. I could feel the straining of her thigh muscles as she desperately thrashed around under me, unable to gain any greater purchase on my tongue.

Her moaning turned into broken, incoherent shrieks. I don’t know for how long I managed to keep up that frantic pace, but finally, I could take no more, and I withdrew, my mouth and jaw aching. A matter of minutes for me, but I hoped an aeon for her. I lowered her hysterical, convulsing body back onto the bed.

I watched, fascinated, as her erect clitoris pulsed and throbbed before me. Her vulva was incredibly inflamed, her lips gaping open and flooded wet with her own pearly arousal intermingling with my saliva.

Now released, I watched the spasms continue to rip throughout her whole body – her legs were jolting seemingly independently of her torso, her head was violently agitating back and forth, and her eyes had rolled almost entirely white. Scooping her up, I clasped her tightly around the chest with one hand, and cupped her pussy firmly in the other.

Eventually, her breathing reduced down to a slow murmur. I realised she had lost consciousness. Softly, I rolled her onto her side and admired her. Her hair was matted to her face and perspiration glistened on her skin. I picked up her small frame in my arms and carried her into the bedroom. I kissed her gently and placed the duvet over her. Turning off the lamp, I looked at her sleeping form, and wondered how she would react when she awoke.

* * *

I didn’t even have to wait until morning to find out. In the deep of night, I woke up hearing stressed sound from Chloé’s side of the bed. There was a look of pained concentration on her face, but she appeared completely asleep. Her lips were moving soundlessly, and her eyes moved rapidly under her lids. I wondered what she was dreaming about.

Most wonderfully though, her right hand was buried deep between her legs. She was thrusting her hips into that hand, her other hand clenching her pillow. I was entranced. She didn’t seem like she was going to stop anytime soon. The sound of her whimpering filling the room as I drifted back to sleep.

I awoke early Sunday morning to prepare breakfast, though I could hardly wait to find out what state Chloé would be in when she awoke. She was fast asleep when I entered our bedroom. I had to tumble her awake. She was groggy and confused.

“Morning babes! I’ve made you breakfast!” I grinned at her. She pulled herself out of bed with a great effort, and shuffled behind me.

In the kitchen, she stared dully down at her pancakes. I was fascinated by the change in her. Her face still retained a visible flush of rose, but her eyes were lidded, and her movements somnambulistic.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I asked, as innocently as I could. There was a drag of silence before she remembered to answer.

“Yes, I’m …” She trailed. She blinked repeatedly. “I guess I’m still tired.”

I noted that she was squeezing her thighs together even as she sat on the stool. I’m sure she was unaware she was doing so.

“Aw, that sucks kiddo. Sorry, I should have let you sleep more. Still, you’re up now. Do you still want me to come clothes shopping with you today?” I inquired. This time, an even longer hesitation.

“… okay …” Finally escaped her lips.

My real intention for our shopping trip was to try to get her even more turned on, if possible. I had to hold her hand at all times though, as she seemed to be in such a daze that she would stand and sway slowly if left to her own guidance. She was so distant that she barely paid any attention to anything I said. Eventually, however, I managed to guide her to the single store that was my goal, the secret summit of this trip.

Chloé did perk up when she realised where I had taken her. She guessed my intention in bringing her to the lingerie section of the most expensive designer store in town. She loved to dress in sexy underwear, almost as much as I loved to see her taking it off.

With excited eyes, she looked through a rack of panties. I picked a pair: an outrageously gaudy pink lace thong.

“I’d never wear them! They look like stripper knickers” She snorted.

“Then this is the pair you’re going to buy.” I grinned at her. She coloured, but didn’t reply.

There was a long queue at the purchase aisle. She had to hand them first to a young man who took them past the other customers and have them scanned and bagged. Chloé was blushing ferociously with embarrassment. I told her to go to the changing rooms immediately and put them on, and to give me the pair she was wearing when she left as proof. Her face was downcast as she handed them to me, balled up in her fist.

The trip home was more urgent. Chloé grabbed my hand this time, tightly.

I had barely closed our front door when she attacked me. Pushing me down onto the wooden floor right there in our hall, she frantically shed her clothes. The thong displayed a dark patch. I could see the outline of her engorged sex. She lustily confessed that I had made her feel like such a slut in the store, and she loved it.

Ripping the thong aside, she slipped onto me easily. She gripped my wrists and pushed her weight down, her sudden strength shocking. A tornado of sexual energy seemed to overtake her. She undulated her whole body against me, determinedly seeking something she no longer even knew was attainable.

Her eyes were scrunched tight, and she wore an irate frown. I thought I could hold on for longer despite the desperate bucking of her hips into me, but as she began angrily grunting through gritted teeth, I couldn’t help but climax. She didn’t even slow down. I had to grab her in my arms. Even so, she still violently mashed her body into mine, so I squeezed her like a vice, listening to her agonizing, feeling our sweat cooling on the varnished floorboards. After what seemed like hours, she seemed to calm to the point that I could release her.

As though what had happened was the most natural thing in the world, I kissed her on the cheek and lifted her up. I had to guide her into the living room and sit her down, where she remained, trembling slightly, damp with perspiration, nude except for the ripped pink thong. She seemed to be floating on a cloud of permanent arousal now, the dopamine levels in her brain rendering her immobile. It was an amazing vision.

I changed and freshened up, and she hadn’t moved at all.

“Would you like some water?” I asked her. Eventually, she dragged her head affirmatively.

“Don’t you think you should put some clothes on?” I teased.

“… I … yes …” She mumbled, her voice trailing off to nothing. Chloé picked herself up, and tried to navigate her way through the room in the direction of our bedroom. She walked almost directly into the door frame and bounced off it with a yelp.

I sat patiently, eager to see if she would be able to regain any of her senses. After a while though, I had to go check on her. She was lying across our bed, and once again she seemed to be out cold. I decided to take pity on her and take the couch for the night, allowing her complete peace.

She must have been exhausted after her exertions. I was unsure of how well she would sleep that night either, considering she was pulling on her nipples as I removed myself. Eventually, I fell asleep on the sofa.

* * *

I pulled my eyes open with a start, and found Chloé staring back at me, squatting on her haunches. I had no inkling of the hour. It was very dark in the room. Even so, her naked, pale skin seemed to shine with sweat in. I stared at her. She had a feral look in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked, wondering how long she had been there, glaring at me.

She didn’t say a word. I pulled myself up from under my blanket, unsure I wasn’t still dreaming. When my eyes regained their focus, her face was still fixed and unblinking.

I stretched out an arm slowly, my hand trembling, to touch her cheek, to try to elicit a response. At the last moment, perhaps because of an urge felt somewhere behind my own eyes, I dropped my hand down further, and as gently as a feather, stroked along the curve of her breast.

She howled and leapt upon me. She bit my neck and clawed at my flesh. Her fury knocked me onto the floor. She fell between my legs and attacked my boxer shorts. I only just managed to wrest her away. I decided my game had gone far enough; it was actually starting to terrify me a little. Still, that couldn’t mean that giving Chloé the key to her memories couldn’t be fun for us both.

I had to struggle against her wild lunges to get into my shorts, but eventually, I managed to half-carry, half-drag her back into our bedroom as she continued snarling. I threw her onto the bed.

Quickly, I reached into the dresser and removed her favourite toy. Kneeing my way onto the bed, I pushed her onto all fours, and positioned myself so I could enter her. Growling with lust she slammed back onto me. Struggling to maintain any semblance of control, I screwed the vibrator on, hunched over her, and pressed it firmly to her clitoris.

She began shrieking at the top of her voice. I was worried she wouldn’t be able to hear me, she was making so much noise, but with her violent movements, and the vibrations of the toy thrumming through her body and into mine, I didn’t think I could last any longer. I struggled to pull her as close to me as I could, and yelled her special message in her ear.

The effect was instantaneous, though unexpected. She ceased crying out and there was a deathly silence. I felt her muscles tighten as her entire body froze in my arms in the manner of an epileptic seizure, vibrating internally with an orgasm so powerful it stretched beyond me, the room, the world. Her sex was rhythmically contracting so tightly I tipped over the edge myself, climaxing so hard I saw stars.

We collapsed together. I held onto her as she devolved into a flopping, convulsing mess of limbs.

After an age, her movements stopped. Her breathing slowed and fell back somewhat. I felt the cool air around our sweating bodies. I waited for her to regain her sensibilities, fervently hoping she would regain them all. At last, she stirred and turned over. I stared at her. She looked almost normal again.

“You utter bastard!” She said as she punched me in the arm.

It wasn’t long, however, before she asked me to do it again.