I watched the girl pull the sides of her jacket tight to hide her chest as I walked past her into the bar. 'What's the point of wearing a too tight t-shirt if you don't want anyone to see you in?' I wondered. Then I realized that she did indeed want to be seen in it, just by a select group of guys. A group, which apparently I was not a member of. That was not a cheerful thought.

I made my way over to the bar. I caught the bartender's eye, waved a fiver at him, and signaled for a whiskey, neat. I prefer Crown Royal for the first round, after that well is fine. By your third round, they're serving you well regardless of what you order. Least that's what they taught us when I attended Bartending School.

The barkeep served up the whiskey, asked for 2 dollars over the fiver I'd put down. I gave him 4 as it's important to tip well. I knocked back the whiskey and surveyed the bar looking for prospects. There was a pretty girl in a tight white bustier, too intimidating by far. There was a softer looking girl in eyeglasses that gave her an attractive librarian look. She looked lost, a little too intelligent for a place like this and it wouldn't have surprised me at all if she'd taken out a book and started reading.

Now whatever I maintain to my friends, I'm aware that I am not walking death to maidenly virtue. But I figured for a girl who's lost and rather bored she might appreciate the distraction of turning me down so I headed over to her. As I got closer, I noticed two things. First she was wearing a skirt, which revealed far nicer legs than I expected. Second, that although she wasn't reading at the moment, she did have a book on the small table where she sat.

This wasn't a bar that believed in blasting the customers ear drums so I didn't have to shout "Mind if I sit down?" She looked at me her seat, which was high (like most seats in bars) so we were just about eye level, and I saw her sea green eyes through the lenses of her glasses. Black plastic frames but not thick like Buddy Hollys, black hair pulled tight in a bun, and unexpectedly a blinding white smile between pouty red lips.

"Please do." She said and gestured invitingly to the seat across from her. As I mentioned, the table was small so our hands were practically touching. I gestured to the book, "What are you reading?"

"Oh, just a bit of intellectual curiosity. It's called 'The Role of Hypnosis in Casual Dating' a bit of graduate student sophistry that someone was dumb enough to publish." she said laughing lightly.

I liked the sound of her voice; it was soft waves breaking against the shore. Her laughter was a cascade of tintinnabulation accompanied by the prettiest wind chimes. "Maybe the author does know something, if it's as bad as you say and he convinced someone to publish it anyway."

She laughed again and said "If you think it takes hypnosis for an editor to publish trash you're horribly naÔve... about the publishing business anyway." Her pause had been intentional and left a suggestive gap my mind rushed to fill. She was much sexier than I had supposed in my initial assessment. But that, as one of my supervisors used to say, would fall into the good thing category.

She continued "No, it's actually somewhat interesting. It's about the combination of short conversation, body language and loaded innuendo used in dating, especially the meeting and initial courtship phases, are similar to Neurological Linguistic Programming or NLP for short." The burst of psychological techno babble, appearing as it did out of left field, threw me for a loop. But one of the things I liked about her initially was she appeared too intelligent for her surroundings. I tried to wrap my mind around what she had just said.

"So basically, we use complicated psychological techniques unconsciously to perform the complicated task of meeting members of the opposite sex" I said. "That's one way of looking at it" she replied.

"Another way of looking at it is that with much effort psychologists have figured out a way to do something we already knew how to do. Which is why I have so much disdain for psychology. Because I do look at it this way. However they do a good job of explaining how to adapt these techniques for uses beyond picking up guys." The last she said grinning and hitting me with those sea green eyes again. I felt my breath catch in my throat as she brushed a few stray bangs of her black hair away from her face.

"So anyway, the author says that when I look right at you and smile like this I'm engaging your full attention. Not just of your conscious mind, but of your subconscious mind. Your basic male programming is now engaged. I've just been recognized by your subconscious as a breeding prospect and everything else has become secondary. But that just means your paying full attention to my words and non verbal behaviour. Which in this case consists of staring directly into your eyes. And your full attention is fixated on me, and my eyes. Shutting out everything else, ignoring all distractions except for my words and my voice, looking only into my beautiful eyes, my deep green eyes. Looking deeper into my eyes, listening to my gentle, soft voice. Relaxing, listening only to my voice. Paying attention only to me. Only to me. My voice, lulling you into relaxation. Relaxing you, drawing you deeper into my eyes. My beautiful eyes."

Her eyes were beautiful. She removed her glasses so I can see them better. They were breathtaking. I had no idea what her chest looked like because the whole time we talked my eyes had never left hers. They were green and inviting and like deep deep wells. Deeper than any eyes I'd ever seen. Her voice washed over me. She had been talking about how when people meet they engage peoples attention. They're complete attention. Well she certainly had mine. What was she saying now? How I had to listen carefully...? I wasn't sure anymore. But it was important that I listen to her. But I felt so relaxed... SO hard to concentrate...

She went on "It's ok if you're having trouble concentrating. Don't worry, just relax. Relax and look deeper into my eyes. Relax completely as you listen to my soothing voice. Don't worry about anything. Just listen to the sound of my voice. It's ok if you're feeling tired. SO very tired. Just relax, let your eyelids grow heavy, it's OK to let them droop. I don't mind. Just so you can relax, let yourself relax. You want to keep staring into my beautiful eyes, but you're soo tired, soo relaxed, you just can't keep your eyes open. Let them close. Go ahead. Go to sleep for me. Sleeep."

I tried to keep them open, I wanted to keep looking into her eyes forever but my eyelids weren't listening anymore. They closed and I succumbed just like you do when the sun shines so bright and draws you down into a seductive nap. That's how I felt. Warm and comfy and lazy as a cat in sunshine.

"You're so relaxed. So relaxed right now. And you know it's my voice that has relaxed you. My voice which makes you feel soo good. You know you must listen to my voice, must obey my voice to feel good. Do you understand that?"

"Yesss" I heard myself answer sleepily. "Good" she said. You must obey my voice. My lovely mesmerizing voice. My hypnotizing voice. You want to be hypnotized by me. You love being hypnotized by me. How do you feel about being hypnotized by me?"

"I love it." I said. It was so easy to listen to her. I loved her voice. I wanted to give the right answers to make her happy. Luckily she told me what the right answers were.

"You love me don't you? You want to obey me all the time don't you?" I said I did. She said that was good.

"I'm very shy you know. Even though I'm pretty it's very tough for me to meet someone. Even after studying psychology and linguistics and eventually hypnosis. But tonight I decided to test it out. But I couldn't bring myself to approach anyone. But then you showed up. The way you came to my table I knew you were as shy as I was. So vulnerable. So easy to entrance with my eyes. I saw you looking at me and began using my techniques right away. You were half programmed by the time you sat down and didn't even know it. But now you do. You know exactly how helpless you are. Helpless to obey. Helpless and loving it. You love being helpless don't you?"

I told her I did. "Good. Now I am going to bring you out of this wonderful relaxed state. You won't remember any of this. You will only remember that you like me and want to take me home. And you want to please me, to submit to me. And you will remember, that if I say "helpless" you will go back into this wonderful trance for me. Won't you?" she cooed. "Yes" I said. "Goood boy. Now when I snap my fingers you will come out of this trance." 1, 2, 3 and she snapped her fingers.

Suddenly I snapped awake. What happened? Had I nodded off talking to her? I was so tired from working out, it could have happened. She was smiling though. Good, I really liked her. I wondered if she would let me take her home. She had such beautiful eyes...

"Would you mind buying me a drink?" she asked. "I'd love to" I told her. "What would you like?" I asked her.

"Some champagne, some expensive champagne. You don't mind do you?" she asked me giggling and looking into my eyes. "Mind? How could I mind the privilege of buying someone as beautiful as you a drink" and I raced to the bar for her.

When I bought the drink I took it back to her careful not to spill a drop. I didn't want to upset her. She took the drink from my hand. "Thank you, I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd be just a helpless little girl." At the word helpless my eyes slammed shut and I felt like I was adrift in warm peaceful water. It felt great. Really relaxing. I heard a voice somewhere far away, I couldn't make out the words but the voice was wonderful, very soft and comforting. I could wrap myself up in it like an old blanket on a midwinter day...

There was a snap and I woke up. Oh my god, had I fallen asleep on her. I'm never swimming 30 laps before going out again. But she was smiling. Where were we? This wasn't the bar.

"Relax" she said. And I did. Suddenly I wasn't worried about where we were. Maybe it was her place. It looked both feminine and unfamiliar. There were pink curtains about the windows. I was sitting on a bed. She was standing in front of me. Her hair cascading down her shoulders. She smiled again and my pulse sped up. She pursed her pouty lips and began unbuttoning her shirt. I tried to reach out for her but I couldn't move my arms.

"No, no, no" she said. "You're not going to do anything, not tonight. I'm in control here." Somehow being unable to touch her was very erotic as well as frustrating. She finished unbuttoning her blouse and her loosened breasts lolled out. Apparently she hadn't been wearing a bra. The soft pink flesh swayed back and forth, the small delicate buds of her nipples cherry red beckoned to my toungue. I couldn't move from below the neck so I could only lick my lips in anticipation.

She must have noticed. "Would my little slave like to lick his mistresses nipples?" She asked me. I didn't know what her slave wanted but I sure did. Then I realized I must be the slave she was talking to. Funny that didn't bother me. In fact it turned me on. I wanted to be her slave and think only of pleasing her. Somehow that sounded funny but I couldn't think with that beautiful soft flesh in front of me. She scooped her breast with one hand and presented it to my aching tongue. I licked and suckled eager for the taste of her flesh. I was in heaven, and when I heard her sudden gasp of breath I shone inside for I knew I'd pleased her.

"Good boy" she said and I felt radiant. Lambent with joy I kissed her nipples. Running my tongue softly over them. Taking them into my mouth and sucking on them. She pulled her breast away from my mouth which closed and sucked empty air. I may have whined in disappointment.

"Don't look so crestfallen." She told me. Then she pushed my shoulders down to the bed. In this recumbent position I watched her pull her skirt down to expose the pink of her second mouth. She was neatly shaven, and she straddled my chest with her legs. Then she slid down and enveloped me. I felt the warm soft feeling that nothing else comes close to. I gasped as she rode me. Taking her time. Completely immobile from the neck down I couldn't grasp her to me. But occasionally she would lift her breasts to my mouth as she rode me. Then she sped up her rhythm as we came closer and closer to climax. She gave out a long moan as she reached orgasm. Her cries excited me over the brink and I burst inside her. She smiled at me, exhausted, spent and peculiarly satisfied. "Helpless" she whispered huskily and my eyes suddenly grew heavy beyond my strength. I faded to deep relaxation. I heard myself answering questions about my life, work and interests. She was assessing whether I would make a better part-time or full time slave. I could care less. Whatever pleased her more, that was all that mattered to me; Pleasing my mistress.