“Just a second,” she said loudly, in response to another knock.

At the door, she leaned forward and peered into the peephole. A familiar if fish-eyed visage met her curious gaze. Stepping back, she unbolted the door and then opened it.

“Hi, Cyril,” she said.

“Hi, Natasha,” Cyril said. “I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“It’s okay. I’m still up and will be for a while. I’m working on a project. Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

Natasha moved aside to let him in. He entered, and then she closed and locked the door. She motioned for him to follow her. Then she walked back to the den, where her unfinished work awaited her.

As Cyril walked behind her, he couldn’t help but focus on her toned body, capped by lustrous blonde hair and covered only by a white tank top and cut-off shorts. He shook his head to clear it. This was no time to be hypnotized by the sight of a beautiful young woman. No, this was the time to--

They reached the den. Inside, Natasha pointed to a chair for Cyril and retook her seat on the floor. Cyril nodded his thanks and sat down where she had indicated.

“What’s up?” Natasha asked. “Not that I mind a late night visit. But I presume it’s not just a random social call.”

“No, it’s not random. I’m also working on a project. An art project. And I’m at a point where I need some feedback on how it looks. You’re the most artistic person I know. And, yeah, it could have waited until tomorrow. But you know how it goes when you’re in the thick of it, and you just don’t want to stop or wait for anything.”

Natasha laughed and gestured at the photography rig at her feet.

“Yeah, I definitely know,” she said. “So, tell me about your project. I’m happy to help however I can.”

“Great! Here, it’s better if I show you, instead of tell you.”

Cyril took several small components out of his pockets and quickly assembled them. In a moment, he held up something akin to a swirl lollipop that you would find at a fair, except that metal and plastic comprised it in lieu of hard candy.

“There,” he said. “What do you think of it?”

“Honestly, it doesn’t do anything for me,” she said. “I’m not sure if it’s supposed to look like a big sucker, or if that’s coincidental. But either way, I just don’t get what you’re going for.”

“Of course you don’t!” Cyril said with chuckle that told of a complete lack of offense at her bluntness. “It would help if I turned it on.”

“Um, okay,” Natasha said, in a tone that was less than hopeful.

With a flick of Cyril’s thumb on a small switch, the object sputtered to life. First, it began to emit a whirring hum, which rose and fell rhythmically. Then, the spiraled head began to glow and spin.

“All right,” he said. “Take a look at it now, and I know you’ll get what I’m going for.”

With a sigh, Natasha continued looking at the thing. She could already tell that it being on wasn’t going to make any difference. She started to say as much.

“Sorry, Cyril, but I…”

“Yes?”

“I…”

“You like it, don’t you?”

“I...like it?” Natasha said, feeling unsure of herself.

Not a minute ago, she had found the thing repugnant. But now, she couldn’t take her eyes off it. She stared at the slowly rotating head and found herself completely captivated by the inwardly spiraling pattern of light and the cascading hum.

“Yes, Natasha, you do like it,” Cyril said in a soft, calm voice.

As the object held Natasha’s gaze, her eyes grew wide and reflected back its bright, swirling colors.

“I do like it,” she said.

“It’s wonderful,” Cyril said.

“It’s wonderful.”

“It’s hypnotic.”

“It’s hypnotic.”

“You’re hypnotized by it.”

“I’m hypnotized by it.”

“In fact, regardless of it, you are hypnotized.”

“Regardless of it, I am hypnotized.”

"Even if I turn off the device, you will remain hypnotized.”

“I will remain hypnotized.”

Cyril thumbed the switch. The hum faded out, and as the head slowed to a stop, the last vestiges of the swirling pattern shone within Natasha’s eyes.

“Are you hypnotized, Natasha?”

“Yes, I am hypnotized.”

“Do you know what a hypnotized person must do?”

“Yes...she must do whatever the hypnotist tells her to do.”

“Very good. You are hypnotized, and I am the hypnotist. Tell me what that means.”

“It means,” Natasha said, “that I must do whatever you tell me to do.”

Cyril smiled. He sat back, reveling in the moment. This was the time to let himself be enthralled by this enticing young woman’s beauty, now that she was completely in his power.

Then he noticed the clock on the wall. It really was late. He was really tired. And he needed to be up early. He had such wonderful plans for the entranced girl before him, but what good were they if he himself got sleepy or had to rush things in order to get back home? No, frustrating as it was, he would have to return to those plans later.

He knew that it would be easy enough to implant a post-hypnotic suggestion in Natasha so that, when he saw her next, he could instantly hypnotize her with a snap of his fingers or a trigger phrase. But something about doing that didn’t sit well with him. It was too fast and too easy. It offered none of the thrill or excitement of watching her slip slowly down from alert willfulness into a state of utter suggestibility and obedience.

As she sat blank and passive before him, he thought about what to do. Soon, he had his plan.

“Natasha,” he said.

“Yes?”

“I am going to leave here soon. When I do, and you hear the front door close behind me, you will awaken from your trance. You will have no conscious memory of anything that happened from the time I knocked on your door to when you wake up, including being hypnotized. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will then want to go to bed. When you fall asleep, you will have a very vivid dream that you will remember upon waking. You will dream of being hypnotized and made to act as a submissive, obedient slave. You will love the feeling of being under someone else’s control. You will find it incredibly arousing. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“You will wonder if being hypnotized would make you feel that way in real life. You will obsess over that very thought all day. In the early evening, you will call me and ask me to come over. When I get here, you will ask if I can help you with something. You will want me to hypnotize you with a swinging watch or pendant. As I do it, and you begin to go under, the feelings from your dream will recur. They will get stronger and stronger the deeper you go and the more suggestible and obedient you become. Is all of that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Very good, Natasha. You and I are going to have a fantastic time tomorrow night.”

“You and I are going to have a fantastic time tomorrow night,” Natasha said.

Cyril stared longingly at the pretty face and lithe form sitting before him. He wouldn’t have to wait long. But he would have to wait. With a yearning sigh, he stood and walked out of the den. A few seconds later, the front door opened. And after a few seconds more, it closed.

Natasha blinked and shook her head. Had that been a knock at the door? She got up and went to see. No one was visible in the peephole. She shrugged and headed back to work on her project. Before sitting back down, she yawned. It was late, and she was tired. Maybe getting some sleep would be good idea.