Bliss: Games Cubs Play
by Kharon Alpua
Chapter 2: When Hypnotists Collide

The story thus far:

Fae and Paul are best friends. They've only ever had one big fight in their life, and it's been four years since then. Paul is one of the geeks to most campus groups, but among his friends in the A/V club and the wrestling team, he's considered lucky for his friendship to Fae, who is considered highly desirable.

And her desirability comes from the way she carries herself more than her looks – in the seventh grade, Fae started to put on weight, and has a body type that while voluptuous, is soft in the wrong areas for teenaged boys to appreciate. She worried early on that she would never meet a guy who wanted to be with her because of it, but thanks to Paul, she's confident that any man who doesn't find her attractive, just because of her body, isn't worth losing sleep over.

With their junior year just starting, both are preoccupied with the Fall Formal dance that's supposed to be happening in just a few days, and for which neither of them has a date.

# # #

Fae was eating her lunch quietly when she noticed Ken. Ken Powers was one of the most popular guys on the varsity basketball team, and he was walking right towards her. Her mind was racing. A few of her girlfriends had said he didn't have a date for the formal, and his last girlfriend had been a softer figured girl – admittedly a human, not a furry. The fur on the back of Fae's neck would have been standing up if it weren't for her long mane.

"Hey. You're, um, Fae, right?"

_Ken Powers is talking. To. ME!_ Fae tried to hide her excitement, but her traitorous tail swished a little bit higher. "Er, yes. I'm Fae." Her voice drifted into a little purr as she looked at him. He was a furry like her, a short-furred ram, and he was considered to be the most desirable member of the basketball team.

"So, I've seen you around school, and I was wondering if you'd like to go to the formal with me?" He sat down at the table, a confident, and anything but cocky, smile on his face. "I mean, I understand if someone already asked you, I was just hoping we could..."

"Yes!" Fae clapped her mouth shut after the excited outburst. _Keep cool, Fae-fae. Don't let him think you're desperate._ She nodded and blushed as her inner voice spoke. "I mean, yes. I, um, I would like that. A lot. I mean, very much. It would be great to go to Fall Formal with you," she said, trying, and completely failing, she was sure, to hide her excited grin.

"Sweet," Ken said, reaching across the table and laying his hand on Fae's. "Say, do you mind if I have that salad?" He was looking at her untouched salad, and she nodded. "Thanks. I'll pick you up around seven?"

"Yes," she said, feeling her face get warm. Ken was so good looking. He waas also so nice. And a vegetarian. Fae gasped. She was sure they would be close together, she had to make sure she didn't smell like fish or meat. What if that made him lose interest in her?

She went over plans in her head. She had to get out shopping with mom to get a dress for the formal. What would the other girls be wearing? What was in fashion this fall? She didn't want to look out of touch while she was with Ken Powers.

"I've never made you 'squee' before," Paul said, setting down his lunch tray. He was grinning and had, somehow, gotten a double serving of the tuna salad from the lunch line. "So, Fae-fae, I was wondering if you'd like to go to Fall Formal with me."

Fae blinked several times, staring at Paul in confusion. Of course, they had gone to dances together before. They'd been to a few separately, but... "I can't, Paul."

Paul's ears drooped, and he pushed over the second cup of tuna salad. "I see," he said, sighing as he started fiddling with his salad. "I guess we can't just go to the formal as friends."

"What? Paul, Ken Powers just asked me to the Formal." She let out a clear squee as she finished the sentence. "I can't go with you because I just said yes to Ken Powers."

"You know, you don't need to say his full name every time," Paul said, huffing and taking a bite of his salad. "I suppose Ken. Powers. Has your salad, too?"

"Well, of course," Fae said. "One does not simply deny Ken Powers one's salad when he asks for it." She giggled a bit. Paul usually gave her part of his lunch for her salad, and she had been too preoccupied with Ken to remember that. Still, she blew a kiss across the table to Paul. "But thank you for the tuna salad anyway, Paul. I love tuna."

"You have no idea what I had to do to get an extra cup of the main course," Paul said, grinning playfully. "But you're welcome, Fae-fae. I'm really happy for you."

# # #

Paul was happy for Fae, but jealous of "Ken. Powers." That annoying little pause whenever any girl said his name, and the fact that almost every girl refused to just call him Ken, grated on his nerves, as did the fact that Ken, a basketball jock, had ignored the very obvious relationship Paul had with Fae.

He had half a mind to confront Ken, but decided better. After all, no matter how obvious it was that he cared for Fae to the A/V club and the wrestling team, it was clear that Fae had no clue that Paul wanted to be her boyfriend. He knew it was his own fault, too.

He always got the nerve to ask her to dances at the last minute, except the two dances in eighth grade when he'd been seeing Stacy Rockford. Stacy had not worked out for him, and he'd called it off when he saw how lonely Fae was. Really, he wanted to be with Fae, but he'd been a wreck since that day he had tried using real hypnosis on her. Not that it had really worked...

He had confidence still, and was popular among the smarter girls. He'd gotten lucky in eighth grade – Stacy asked him to the Sadie Hawkins, and they became an item until the end of that year. They'd even made out, quite a bit, and Paul had even tried a small hypnotic induction on her. It was the first time he'd hypnotized anybody since Fae, and he felt happy – a little too happy, he recognized when Stacy pointed out the lump in his pants, but she hadn't been hypnotized to be a slave. He'd done a small helpful suggestion that she would be able to wear anything she liked, and would be confident in her choice even if another girl wore the same thing.

And she had stroked his cock that night for a little while. Yes, through his pants, but she had seemed to enjoy it. Paul, for his part, had never told anybody, not even Fae, about the details of the night. He'd also gone on some other dates, one-time things, in ninth grade. Fae, on the other hand, had never shown any interest in any specific boys during those three years. After ninth grade, though, the basketball team were the big guys around school, and even Fae seemed to be smitten with them.

Paul sighed as he looked over the school announcements for next week. Barring unexpected happenings, the school did its best to make sure every student who showed up was in class, so they used pre-recorded announcements in the morning and before the end of the day. Of course, with the formal being two days away, next week's announcements were slim. Lunch menus, the football lineup, and a reminder that with spirit week over, wearing of accessories prohibited by the dress code would be cracked down on.

This was in response to the spirit week practice of wearing artificial tails and manes to promote the Formal – the Pinckney High School mascot was a lion. Also, the Lions always had a big game the night before the formal, and this year was no exception, as the Brighton Bulldogs were, in fact, the school's greatest rivalry. Paul pushed the announcements aside. The Formal was Saturday night, and he was genuinely dateless for the first time.

If he had been earlier in the lunch line he might have asked before Ken. Would Fae have rejected him for Ken anyway, though? He sighed. It was just his luck that in his junior year, the senior who was probably the most popular member of the varsity basketball team had asked his girl out.

But, he reminded himself, Fae wasn't really his girl. She never caught the longing way he looked at her, or if she did, she never returned his feelings. He'd fallen in love with her when he hypnotized her, but she had turned him down. She had made him keep it a secret. So, of course, for her sake, he kept it a secret. If he mentioned it, she had said they couldn't be friends again.

Paul sighed again. He wasn't in any mood to record the announcements today. He'd have to do them tomorrow, though, when he'd be even more depressed. He logged into his Yahoo! Mail. Fae had asked him to help her choose a dress.

# # #

Fae had called him, and as her best friend, Paul had, of course, agreed. He had joined her and her mom to help her pick out a flattering dress for the cherubic angel that was Fae. Paul would never turn her down.

When she walked out in the pink dress that hugged her hips, but bared her back (all the way down to the tail), and stopped just short of her knees, Paul stared. His jaw dropped and he prayed that Fae wasn't looking as closely at him as he was at her.

"Don't you have a date, dear," Elise asked. Elise, Fae's mom, was a normal human, and a complete looker. While Fae had softened and rounded out, or "reclaimed her baby-fat" as Elise put it, Elise was slender with the exceptions being her firm breasts and a very shapely bottom. Seeing her stroke the fabric on Fae's dress did not help the tension in Paul's pants.

"No," he said, swallowing. "I had been putting off asking Fae, and missed my chance."

"Awww. Paul is a much better date for you, Fae."

Fae blushed, looking at Paul, but then shook her head. "Mom, One does not turn down Ken Powers. Paul's always been there... but Ken Powers is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You don't mind, do you, Paul?" She smiled, and Paul wondered if she knew how flirtatious that smile was in his mind.

How, he asked himself, could she make it and not know? It was like she was asking him to wait on standby – and he knew that he would. "Well, I mean..." He stammered a bit, then mumbled. "That is, I'm Fae's best friend. I..." he paused, feeling himself blushing. "I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship."

Elise looked him square in the eyes until Paul had to turn away. What did she see in them? "Hmmph. I still think you'd be better for my little Fae-fae than some popular jock."

Paul's lips twitched. He wasn't popular, but it felt nice to know he had her mom's blessing. "Well, mom," he said, chuckling, "I... I trust Fae to make her own choices."

"No. No no no. Paul, you don't get to call me mom again until you're dating Fae-fae." Elise grinned. "But the dress is good, yes?"

"It's stunning," Paul said, nodding. "Anybody who sees her in that dress is lucky."

Elise smiled flatly. "Yes. A perfect dress for your Fall Formal. Change back and I'll go settle the bill, Fae-fae."

As soon as Fae was back in the changing room, Elise pounced. "You need to act before she loses faith that you ever will," she hissed at him. "I see the way you two look at each other. Trust me, she wishes you asked before that jock did."

Paul swallowed. "Then she would..."

"She's trying to make you jealous. And I think it's working." Elise grinned and patted his shoulder. "If you feel like I think you feel, act fast. Fae is not patient."

Restrained, Paul thought, would be the more apt word. "I would rather be her friend until I die than do anything that might ruin our friendship," Paul said. "If she were interested, she'd notice everything I do for her."

Elise stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "Oh, I get it. You're gay." She grinned, somehow an even more catlike grin than Fae had ever put on. "Don't worry, Paul. Your secret is safe with me."

# # #

Paul had to work even harder to find a date now. He couldn't get Elise to stop thinking he was gay, either. Clearly, he had made a misstep somewhere in the dress incident. He looked through his black book, but there was only one girl in there without a date. The notoriously popular, but surprisingly dateless, Sarah.

"You'll do," she said, looking him over. She was a tall human girl, six feet if she was an inch, pale and lightweight, supposedly had studied ballet, but spent most nights babysitting. "Y'know, I haven't been with a furry before. If you'll come over to my house tonight, I'll go to the dance with you tomorrow."

Paul blushed. Was she propositioning him? Trading sex tonight for a date to the dance tomorrow? But he had the tickets to the dance, and would feel out of place if he went alone. "S-sure," he said, looking her in the eyes. They were green. Her wavy brown hair was tied back in a loose tail. And she was wearing tight faded jeans.

"By the way," she said. "We can practice on each other."

As she walked away, Paul just gasped. What exactly had he gotten himself into?

# # #

Sarah... Sarah Mackenzie. Whatever she was talking about, Paul wasn't going to back out. They had grown up in the same neighborhood – she had two older brothers who had been good friends of his older brother, but Sarah was a mystery. She was a top-notch student, and aside from babysitting, she wasn't known to leave her house much. He looked at the announcements.

Depressed? Well, he didn't have Fae, but he had a date anyway.

"Good morning Pinckney High School! This is Paul Winger, your voice for the week of October 18. Today's cafeteria options are fresh pizza, breaded chicken patties, and Miss Harding's special barbecue pulled pork. The vegetable of the day is carrots, and please don't forget to drink your milk.

"Please remember that Spirit Week is now over. School staff will be strictly enforcing the dress code in regards to unauthorized..."

Paul let his mind wander as he read off the script in his announcer voice. Sarah's brothers had spent a lot of time with her, but she had stopped hanging out with anybody around seventh grade, and despite the occasional rumor of somebody having a date with her, nothing ever came out of those rumors. Not that she was a prude or a slut, just... nothing.
He wondered if the school newspaper would have any information to increase his knowledge of her. Although they didn't deal in rumors, they did have some helpful facts. The closest thing to a rumor about her was that she took ballet – repeatedly mentioned, but without sourcing or a name for her school or instructor. She had, according to the paper's records, been on the freshman girls' swim team and basketball team, though Paul had never heard her name mentioned in connection to either.

More importantly, the student body had voted her the hottest girl in school last spring – in the face of the actual popular girls getting a suspiciously low number of votes.

"Research," he said, in response to a question about what he was doing.

"Dangerous research," the girl behind him said. "One could think you've fallen for someone." Paul started to turn, but was stopped. "Don't. It's cute, really, but I have a reputation to maintain. You belong with your fat friend, and she doesn't deserve Ken Powers, not even just for Fall Formal. Sarah is trouble." He heard a low growl and nodded. "And if you know what's good for you, you'd un-invite her to the Formal. But that's just, really, my advice."

"I see. And do you have more reason than that?" Paul was nervous.

"Just ask any girl who's dated Bill Tucker since last year," she said. "He had one date with her, or so we all heard. The date came and went, and nobody heard anything about it. But something changed then. I heard she made him into a sissy."

Paul heard the door close a moment later, and went back to the school paper's records. Bill Tucker was the star quarterback on the school's varsity team, last year he'd been on junior varsity. He was, according to a personal profile in the schol paper, questioning his faith until he had a strong religious experience early in freshman year. His popularity among the girls had gone down in the last year, though, because they all said he wasn't enough of a man. He was nice, and no two girls agreed on an exact thing, except that, maybe, he was *too* nice. There was only one that went in depth.

"Bill might be the most religious member of the football team, but he believes some weird things. He says that god is a woman, that she comes to earth every thousand years, and that she lives in Pinckney right now, but he can't tell anybody who she is. This reporter has talked to members of various churches represented in the student body, and none have ever seen Bill at a worship service or any sort of church function. Who is Bill Tucker really? Is he a Christian, or is he something more sinister?"

The unfinished and unpolished article was from around the end of last year's football season, and stored with the file notes "Rumor" and "GS-NoPub." It said he was a complete gentleman to all the girls he dated – he didn't seem to expect sex or anything else from them, and he seemed to enjoy the dates. But he never made out, the only kisses he gave were pecks on the cheeks or lips, never anything that felt intimate. There was also a rumor that he visited a certain house every Sunday when the other families were in church, but what house that was happened to be. . . Redacted?

Paul paused. The file notes... Rumor? The newspaper didn't deal in rumors, why would they keep this? What about the other note? GS-NoPub? NoPub was easy – clearly it meant "no publication." GS?

He looked to see if any other files had either GS or the whole GS-NoPub. There were a lot of the former, and several more of the latter, including one opinion piece submitted by a student. Sylvia Stevens... the head cheerleader from the junior varsity cheer squad at the time (she was now head of the varsity cheer squad).

Sylvia's piece just called "her" a whore and a boyfriend stealer. There was no clue who "she" was, though, the name had been redacted just like the “certain” house in the other piece. Sylvia ended the piece calling "her" out saying "she" didn't deserve a boyfriend unless she worked at it – and staying at home with "her" nose in books all night wasn't working.

The others had a lot of opinion polls about popularity and the like. One focused on the girls' book club. It also had a name blotted out. The opinion polls all seemed to have a few things in common, though. Sarah, a bookish girl who did nothing to build popularity, let alone to appear popular, was near the top of every popularity contest. A few times, she had even won. Did GS have something to do with Sarah?

The last piece he looked at was a comic strip. GS-NoPub. The artist's name had been blotted out. It was little better than stick figures, and it was dated to freshman year. The first panel showed a girl with long, wavy hair and no face. "… and now you are in my power!"

The second panel showed three students (presumably) with blank eyes, saying, "We obey your commands."

The third panel and final had the three students around the faceless girl, one behind her with hand on her shoulder. One holding a bunch of grapes. The last, a girl, was giving the faceless girl a footrub. There was a signature in the bottom right though – SJMK97. 1997 was the start of freshman year, so that made sense. Could SJMK be for Sarah J. MacKenzie? Was Sarah's middle initial J?

A warning bell rang. Fifteen minutes until the school building closed. Paul went to the copier and made a copy of the comic strip, sure that it was showing something. Sticking the copy in his bag, and the original back into the files, he headed home. He paused as he stepped out of the building.

Sarah was looking at him with a smile, or was it a grin, on her face. "My address." She held out a piece of paper. "Eight o'clock. Please don't come early, I won't be home until then."

It was five o'clock now. "Alright," he said, swallowing nervously. He locked eyes with her, and it seemed like they were challenging each other. As she smiled more, the feeling of a challenge passed.

"I have to get a dress for tomorrow, don't I, Paul?"

He nodded, chuckling softly. "Yeah. I should get a suit too," he said, folding the paper with her address and slipping it into his front pocket. "See you tonight, then."

"For sure," she said, walking away with a spring in her step.

# # #

Paul didn't need to get a suit – he had a well made all-occassions suit, as his parents saw no need to buy a new suit every dance. He ate dinner and checked his yearbook. A lot of students had Yahoo! accounts and it was a new tradition to write those, along with your signature, in the yearbook. The yearbook only listed first and last names – the handful of middle initials were all to distinguish people with the same first and last name.

Sarah had signed his yearbook. Her account was apparently omgsarah1983 – so he did a search on that. It was posted on her personal website, an Angelfire page using bright purple Comic Book text on a black background, with a combination of goth, gothic, and hypnosis related subpages.

Hypnosis?

Paul clicked on the link and blinked.

_The white rabbit stared at Alice, looking at her as if she were someone else. "Mary-Anne? Is that you?"_

_For a moment, Alice wasn't sure who she was. Could she be Mary-Anne? The rabbit grinned at her. "Mary-Anne. I need my clean croquet gloves. Bring them to me at the Queen of Hearts' garden."_

_Alice nodded absent-mindedly. The rabbit must be right. She must be Mary-Anne. She should find the rabbit's croquet gloves and bring them to the Queen of Hearts' garden. "Oh, of course. I'm sorry, I'll fetch them right away."_

Beyond that was a small drawing of Alice with blank eyes, holding the gloves and kneeling next to a humanoid rabbit – but the rabbit, unlike the story, was a woman with wavy hair. He pulled out the comic from his backpack and compared it. The hair looked similar. The art looked similar (though better on the website). But similar was nothing.

He looked in the banner image for a signature, but didn't see one. So he kept reading.

_Hypnosis is a fascinating hobby of mine. It's all the work of the mind, so some people can do things, when hypnotized, that others couldn't achieve with a lifetime of hard work. Of course, hypnosis is all about your desires... so unless you can change your desires, some things will be out of reach with a hypnotist._

_I'm still only a student, but I read about hypnosis every chance I get, and love to practice. If you're a student at Pinckney High School in Michigan, and have an interest in hypnosis, email me from the main page and we can set up a time to meet._

_If you are over the age of 18 or living outside of Pinckney, MI, do not contact me._

_Read some fun stories I've written about hypnosis here._

There was a list of stories. Alice in Wondering-Land. Snow Whyte and the Seven Questions. Cinderella's Dream. I'll Be That Girl. Vanessa and the Price. Victor and the Princess. A lot of them looked like simple fan-fiction stories, and each had a banner picture – the Alice one repeated the image from above. All of them had the same sort of simple pencil artwork, but no signature. Looking at the stories, though only briefly, he noticed that the hypnosis in them seemed very... un-story-like. Realistic, even. That didn't stop Alice from ending the story believing she was a servant girl named Mary-Anne, or the end of Cinderella's Dream being that the Prince was giving Cinderella a footrub. Every story had a female hypnotist, though – the White Rabbit, Queen Grimhilde, “That Girl”, Vanessa, the Princess... whether the subject was male or female, the hypnotist was always female.

Sarah's house was just half a block from Paul's, so he looked at her stories until it was almost time for their... was it a date? Shrugging off the thought, he headed downstairs and slipped his shoes on. At the very least, he was less concerned about "practice" now. Sarah probably meant hypnosis, and Paul knew that there was no danger in hypnosis, as long as he knew his own mind.

Right?

# # #

"Of course I meant hypnosis," Sarah said, grinning. "You didn't think I meant... Oh, no thanks. I can't be doing that kind of stuff." She giggled a bit and smiled at Paul. "But hypnosis is fun. Sure, it's kinda sexy,"

"Really sexy," Paul said, blushing.

"Okay, yes. One of the sexiest things I can think of," Sarah admitted. "And yeah, that comic you're about to show me? I drew it." Paul paused, the paper in hand, but not unfolded. "I really had you worked up, didn't I? I love hypnosis, and yes, I did hypnotize Bill Tucker. I didn't make him a sissy, no matter what any other girl says."

"Oh? So then why does he..."

"Promise not to tell anybody."

Paul nodded. "Okay, I promise I won't tell anybody."

"Ah... I can't tell you.” She shrugged as if she were disappointed, but her face didn't show any disappointment. In fact, it was more like glee. “He trusted me with the secret. Even if you promise... I wouldn't deserve his trust if I told you."
I see, Paul thought, rolling his eyes.

"Don't be that way. I know you've hypnotized Stacy." Paul stared at her. "Stacy is a good girl, but she's a bit loose-lipped. It was easy, at least for me, to find out why she stopped freaking out when some other girl was wearing the same outfit as her."

Paul nodded, and opened his mouth, but stopped when Sarah went on. "I also know you did _something big_ with Fae Evans. You don't know how jealous I am about that."

"I don't want to talk about Fae," Paul said, wondering if his tone was even enough. He didn't want to talk about Fae.

"Really? You're obviously like me," Sarah said, smiling a broad, almost predatory, smile. "You just aren't interested in a harem, though, are you?"

"What the hell, Sarah?" Paul stared at her. A harem? Was she secretly a slut? What did she mean by "like her?" "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean this: You clearly only have eyes for Fae." Paul nodded to that, though Sarah's tone made clear she wasn't talking about some idle conjecture. "You are a dominant." The same tone, but now Paul wasn't so sure if she was right. "Okay, try this. Like me, you are a dominant, a hypnotist. Unlike me, you don't want a harem."

"You can't use hypnosis to get a harem," Paul said, staring at Sarah firmly.

"No, no, no." Sarah laughed playfully, then looked Paul squarely in the eyes. "You, Paul," and she pointed directly at him with her left hand. "You _won't_ use it to get a harem. I, Sarah," and here, she raised her right hand, indicating herself, "I have used it for exactly that." She giggled and snapped her fingers. Stacy walked in from another room, followed by Bill Tucker and a boy Paul wasn't familiar with. Each of the three was wearing a purple collar around his or her throat, and they assumed the same positions as the students from the comic.

Bill stood behind Sarah, somewhere between being a bodyguard and a masseuse as he rubbed her shoulders, while looking straight at Paul. The other boy (was he a freshman?) knelt beside Sarah, holding a tray with a glass of water and a bunch of red grapes. Stacy smiled briefly at Paul as she sat at Sarah's feet and began to massage them. Paul just watched the comic play itself out before him, dumbstruck that this was possible. He couldn't find his voice until Stacy raised Sarah's right foot and slowly licked along the sole.

"This is a great joke, Sarah. And Stacy and Bill and... whoever you are."

"Oh, that's Chaz," Sarah said, stroking the cheek of the boy at her side. "He's actually my biggest and most loyal fan." The boy was beaming, proud and happy. "Stacy enjoyed when you hypnotized her so much that when I offered to hypnotize her again, after one light session, she practically started begging me to do it every week. Without me needing to even prompt her for it. Seems like this little hypnofetish isn't such a rare thing here in Pinckney."

Paul sighed. Sarah was... he wasn't sure how to put it. It was wrong that she would do this, but it was also, supposedly, impossible. "You must have done something more than hypnosis," he said. "You can't enslave a person with hypnosis."

"Unless they want to be enslaved," Sarah said. She watched him with eyes like a hawk, and he noted her expression changing as, no doubt, his own did. He was starting to understand, and she started to smile. A moment passed in silence as her words sank in.

"A person can leave a hypnotic state at any time they choose," he said. "If they hear something disagreeable, or something that goes against their morals. So, if your suggestions are agreeable, or if your suggestions agree with their morals..."

"Or," Sarah said firmly, repeating the word several times until Paul went silent. "Thank you. Or, Paul, if your suggestions are in line with their desires, or even their beliefs about what hypnosis can do, you can actually get quite a lot out of them."

Beliefs? Was that really the key to what she was doing?

"Yes. Beliefs are what I rely on," Sarah said. "Chaz, water." The boy raised the glass to her lips, tilted it, and she took a sip. Then he returned the glass to the tray, smiling. "Think, Paul. Think about what we were all exposed to, our earliest exposure to hypnosis. Cartoons and TV. Shows like Power Rangers or Reptile Rangers. Shows where hypnosis was nothing less than complete, if fragile, mind control."

Paul remembered the episode of Reptile Rangers where June was turned into a cat-girl, by accident, and then hypnotized into being Lou Garou's slave. "Whenever you wear this collar, June, whether you choose to put it on or it is placed on you by someone else, you become my slave. If you have not received orders from me within the past week, your first act while wearing this collar will be to seek me out for orders."

After that, she had been awakened with a snap, and told to lure the Reptile Rangers to the back alley behind a deli. And, of course, at the time, Paul had believed the episode without a doubt. He had believed that hypnosis did work that way. When the episode ended, with the collar set in June's apartment, he believed that it would always turn her back into a slave.
He had _learned_ better from his reading. He could still accept that hypnosis just happened to work that way within the Reptile Rangers world, or that the cat-girl change had somehow changed the rules for how it worked on June, but he knew, once he started reading about and learning hypnosis for real, that there were limits. Suggestions and triggers unused for a time would fade or grow weak. Hypnosis was only as strong as the subject's willpower. Hypnosis can only cause changes a subject agrees with.

So what Sarah was saying now was something he had never considered. "So if a subject believes that hypnosis is total mind control," he said, looking at Stacy, then Chaz, then straight at Sarah. "You can do anything you want?"

"Sort of," Sarah said. "It still takes work. Work that Chaz has given me years to refine."

Paul blinked and looked from Chaz to Sarah. Years? They had similar noses and eyes... "Is Chaz your brother?"

"Precisely. He loves spending time with me, so he lets me do anything I want. Don't you, Chaz?"

"Sis is the coolest person in the whole world," Chaz said, smiling as he turned to Paul. He was clearly aware of who he was actually addressing, not some mindless slave in a trance. "And the best hypnotist ever. Please practice with her, Paul."

Paul was surprised at how coherent Chaz seemed. He looked nothing like the mindless or forced obedient slaves in TV programs, though he supposed that should be no surprise. Sarah had just said that she'd been working on him for years.
"I don't know if I want to be a slave," he said. "I've always played the controller with Fae, after all."

Sarah giggled for a moment, smiling at Paul. "I wouldn't presume to control a dominant," she said, still a hint of giggling in her tone. "And I've respected your ownership of Fae."

"I don't own Fae," Paul said, feeling like he had to protect himself.

"You might not mean to own her," Sarah said. "But I've seen how she looks at you. Since we started seventh grade, I could tell that you did something I wanted to do. You owned her heart completely."

If I own her heart so well, Paul thought, feeling a smirk come on his face a confidence that compelled him to speak up, "If you're right, why wouldn't she turn down Ken for me?"

"Paul, I choose my own dates, but if Ken, pause, Powers, squee, asked me to a dance? I'd do the same as your thrall is doing. Of course, I don't doubt that you could hypnotize her and order her to go with you, but..."

"I don't hypnotize Fae," Paul said.

Sarah's hips squirmed very visibly, and her smile took on the look of a weasel in a chicken coop. "Don't? But... you have. Right? You must have, to get that doting look and attitude."

"I did. Once." Paul sighed. "And I removed all of my suggestions, then promised myself I would never hypnotize her again."

"On... Once? Please, please tell me all about it," Sarah said, her eyes wide, and her tongue rolling across her lips. "I want to know how you did it... in just one session? Could you do it to someone else?"

"I don't want to talk about it, and I doubt I could do that to anybody else." He sighed. "I was scared by what I did. You should be scared by what you've done, by what you're doing right now!"

Bill started to step away, but Sarah looked up at him. "Hold your position, William," she said. "He simply hasn't recognized the way the world works, and he must be forgiven for that." Bill stopped and continued to rub, to massage, Sarah's shoulders.

"The world is split into factions, Paul. Groups of people, actually. As a dominant, some day, you will need to choose between submissive morals, like the ones you cling to now, and dominant morals. The world raises us to be submissive, Paul. Almost from birth, the foundation of society is to keep the cattle in their place – religion, law, philosophy, governments. They are formed by dominants to attract followers, or disciples, or submissives. Submissives are... are those drawn to the most dominant force they can find. Our world isn't run by submissives, of course, any more than a pasture is run by cattle. The only things rulers and leaders have in common with the cattle, Paul – the only thing you and I have in common with these servants – is ancestry.

"Chaz, tell Paul what you are."

Chaz smiled and turned to Paul. "I am Sarah's obedient slave, and nothing in the world could make me happier than to serve my big sister."

Paul was taken aback by this, but Sarah didn't stop there. "Stacy, tell Paul what you are."

Stacy smiled and looked at Paul. "I am a slave. I was born to serve, to fit in, to be the foundation of society. I have no will but to serve what I am commanded."

This was even worse. Slaves weren't the foundation of society, not a modern society. Societies were founded on the hard work of honest people. "William."

"I am a loyal priest in service to God incarnate, the Goddess Sarah." William seemed aglow as he spoke. "All that she does to her humble servants is perfect love and beauty, and I will worship her until I die." God is a female? God incarnate? Goddess?

"Sarah, you're crazy," Paul said.

"I may be, but you haven't left." She grinned. "And your pants are not hiding the excitement you feel hearing this. Even if it's not you in control, the words of a submissive make you long, on some level, to be the one who inspires those words."
Paul blushed deeply. He was absolutely offended by everything going on here, but, like Sarah said, he was also undeniably aroused by it. "And I suppose you want me to be part of your world order."

"I told you, Paul, I wouldn't presume to own or control you. You received all the conditioning I did, and like me, you still used your knowledge to control. You say that you feel bad about it, but... that will pass, if you just use your power more."
Power. Paul could feel his erection straining more and more against the fabric constraining it. Maybe, he thought, Sarah was right. "What power, exactly?"

"The power to apply your knowledge and skills to control," she said. "Only a true dominant has that power – a submissive may lead other submissives, but a dominant desires control for control's sake. Cattle will follow the strongest figure they can see, whether that figure is one of their own or an outsider, Paul. But you won't just follow anybody. You," she pointed to him, as she had earlier. "Paul, you want to be in the lead."

That last statement, he agreed, was absolutely true. He did want to be a leader, but he wanted something else. He didn't want to lead for the sake of leading. He wanted to lead because others found him trustworthy, and he wanted to prove himself worthy of their trust. "I may be a dominant, like you," he said. "And I'll agree to practice with you if you leave these three out of it. But before we do anything, I want to assure you that I'm not like you. I want everybody to be the master of their own life's path. I believe that we are all equal..."

Sarah snapped her fingers sharply. "Slaves, return to your normal activities for tonight. You will know that Paul is trusted with knowledge of our relationship, however nothing he does can change it. You have all pleased me greatly." She stared firmly at Paul as they each kissed the nearest part of her body, then went to the other room. After a moment, he heard the door open and then close, twice, while Chaz apparently went upstairs.

"You still believe the propaganda. That's cute. I'll make a deal with you," Sarah said, grinning as she leaned forward. "In our practice tonight, we will each attempt to make one suggestion to the other, to be carried out during the dance tomorrow night. If I carry out your suggestion, Paul, I will tell you who all of my slaves are, and release one, of your choice, completely."

"And if I carry out yours?" Paul didn't feel comfortable setting himself up, since Sarah seemed to have the cards here.

"You promise to hypnotize Fae while I watch, and to enslave her following my advice." Sarah was very matter of fact about this, as if she had decided in advance.

"I'm not going to bet Fae. I'll let you give me any one suggestion you want provided it affects only me, though. What if we both..."

"If both of us act on the suggestion given, we both pay up," Sarah said. "I release any one slave you want, and you hypnotize Fae."

"I told you I won't bet Fae," Paul said, growling firmly. "I'll let you do anything you want, to ME and only to ME."

Sarah giggled. "Exactly the answer of a dominant," she said. "You don't compromise yourself. This is what you need to learn. But I won't compromise to your terms alone either. I don't really want to control a dominant, but how is this for an agreement?

"If you act on my suggestion, you agree to hypnotize yourself to become... my obedient alpha slave. Dominant except towards me."

Paul wasn't sure that was possible, but it was better than risking Fae. "But I'm not a submissive. How can I be a slave if I'm a dominant?"

Sarah grinned. "And the last condition: If neither of us acts on the other one's suggestion, we go out on one proper date. No hypnosis, none of my slaves present. Just you and me, sharing a real, proper date, two equals sharing an evening together. Ultimately, Paul, this is the real winning scenario. We both demonstrate that we're too dominant to be controlled."

Paul nodded. That was the best possible outcome, next to him winning and forcing her to release... just one of her slaves. How many could she really have, though?