Original MC fiction, yay! I wanted more hypnosis writing in my life. (yes I'm working on NEEHU too) While these pieces can be read as stand-alones, this features the same characters (and similar tone) from “Cookie Break”.
(mc, mf, md)
Waking up with William was, a lot of the time, a source of many fond memories for her. He had this habit of latching onto her with his whole body to try to keep her in bed if she was making to get up. And sometimes he would wake her up by stroking her hair, letting her come back to the warm, tangled sheets and the odd sock slowly, on her own time. Usually, they would have segmented, murmuring pillowtalk before one or both of them had to get out of bed. Waking up next to William meant that Nicole could go through her day and smile when she thought back on it.
Of course, quite often he was also a nuisance, as was expected. Nicole would sometimes startle awake and curl away from him at the feeling of a tongue on her cheek for no apparent reason. William also had a tendency to kick her gently at 5 am every once in a while; he always insisted he was asleep, but she in turn didn't always believe him. But they would always share a quiet laugh, or at the very least, a wry, playful, caffeine-deprived smile.
But then, sometimes, he would wake her up just to lead her back to sleep.
She thought she made a noise in complaint when she first noticed his fingers in her hair, and shifted away from the hand that was pulling her out of dreamland. Perhaps he chuckled affectionately; she was too fuzzy for a few moments of his gentle touch for her to properly register anything.
“Wake up, you,” William said, warmly, when he heard her mewl petulantly enough to know she was stirring.
With supreme effort, Nicole managed small, whiney disapproval. But his fingers were still brushing gently, insistently, against her neck.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said, playful and light still but suddenly edging on authoritative, “I want you to wake up so I can make you fall asleep again.”
His words gripped at her, so matter-of-fact, sending a delicious, soft heat through her body that made her want to gasp and clench her fingers. But she was still half-asleep, too tired to do anything more than take in a slow, controlled breath. William's hands stroking her neck felt more enticing, more sensual.
“Come on,” he said softly. “Wouldn't you like to?” And he knew, Nicole swore he knew. His fingers were too teasing; his voice had that tone...
Through the haze of half-sleep, she nodded her head. She couldn't help herself.
Rewarded, familiarly, “Good girl...”
He brought his other hand to stroke the outside of her thigh, melting her with the pads of his fingers.
And then his voice again, next to her ear:
“Wake up for me so you can sleep...” Letting that last syllable drag out a little too long, finally making her bring her knees a touch closer to her chest, curling up, bizarrely trying to hide inside of herself, away from his words. He laughed softly, lightheartedly, though the lingering tones in her ears simmered between her legs.
Unbidden, a “yes, sir,” slipped out of her, almost slurring, and hearing that made it all the more sweet.
It was a strange juxtaposition of consciousness, to return to awareness only to abandon it. Only half there (and pleasantly so), she knew that his murmuring in her ear was purposeful, that the tickle of his chuckle against her was knowing and mischievous.
She blinked her eyes, unsure if they had been open or closed.
“Are you awake yet?” he asked softly, pulling at her attention, and Nicole's mind and body buzzed with his question. The heaviness of her limbs, the fuzziness of her thoughts. It felt surreal, in a way; beyond her control.
“...I don't know,” she finally answered, and she had never felt so sure of something in her life.
She could feel William's smile.
“That's right,” he crooned, and she felt the heat pooling in her belly, so familiar but still so intense. That hand, drawing idle patterns on her thigh, dipped into the crux of her legs, but teasingly. It didn't help that she parted her thighs and pushed her hips just slightly forward to feel it – he noticed. She noticed him notice. Those awful, terrible, wonderful fingers now spiraling a few inches above her clit.
Everything felt like a muddy mess of pleasure and trance and bedsheets – his touch and tone were teasing her in all of those perfect ways as she scrambled for consciousness once more.
Lips, on the shell of her ear:
“Do you have something to say, girl?”
She knew the words, that phrase – it made made things click in her mind in such a way that she could vocalize her thoughts if she wanted to –
Her mouth was moving even though her tongue felt thick and heavy.
“Why...” she rolled it around her mouth for a moment, “do you do this...”
There was a surprised, amused, delighted exhale at the junction of hair behind her ear, and the fingers teased down further, so close to her clit...
“I do this...” came the whisper, dangerous and intimate, “because I'm training you.”
And finally that soft little moan made its way past her lips as the reality set in and everything was slipping away.
“You respond to me because it feels good,” he murmured, “you respond to me because I've trained you to like it...”
Her eyes must have rolled and she must have pushed her hips up and she must have said something...
“You wake up when I tell you to wake up,” and his voice was getting that edge to it, to that place where she knew he was getting into it, getting off on it, “you feel good when I tell you to feel good... and you sleep when I tell you to sleep...”
Tiny gasps, struggling to stay awake enough to hear him because his voice is all that matters
“...because you love it and because this is how I control you.” Finally, finally, fingers between her legs, making circles around her clit and pouring fire into her belly...
“Yes...” hissed breathlessly with the last of her strength, she let go for him, opened her legs, opened her mind, let him take and take and take...
Everything blurred in that haze of pleasure, within her foggy thoughts. His hand felt perfect between her legs; his voice pouring into her made it all the more delicious. He was melting her with his touch –
“And I'm melting you with my words,” he said, and she reeled.
Her eyes, half-lidded, sight forgotten, focused enough to see his face before her, hard and dark and capturing her with his gaze.
“You will surrender, won't you?”
Her lips parted as though to agree, to vocalize what every fiber of her body was screaming to him, yes, yes, yes, yes...
But consciousness eluded her and she could do nothing but blink, slowly, as a grin spread across his face.
“That's right,” he whispered, “so let your mind go where I want it to...”
And that was it, that was permission, the soft, sweet grasp of his control that was taking her down...
“Come on then, my girl,” she heard him whisper softly as her eyelids fluttered closed, “you've still got a bit of time to sleep... it's just past 5...”