The sequel to Hypno-Spies


It was a beautiful Saturday morning when Special Agent Sember Gillis pulled up to her partner’s house. She exited her car and walked up to the front porch, two hot coffees on a styrofoam tray in her hand. As this was a social call, she had dressed casually--pullover sweatshirt, dark jeans, and wedge sandals--but she nonetheless carried her pistol and badge in an over-the-shoulder pocketbook.

Sember knew that Agent Melinda Thompson expected her and would have left the front door unlocked. So she knocked twice on it, and then entered without waiting for a response. Inside, she unshouldered her purse and hung it on a hook mounted beside the door, while at the same time slipping off her sandals and nudging them with a bare toe onto a mat where several pairs of Melinda’s shoes resided.

“Melinda?”

“Hey, Sember. I’m in the kitchen.”

Sember headed to the room in the back of the house. There she saw her partner sitting at the table. Still dressed in her nightclothes, unkempt blonde hair falling loose over her shoulders, bare feet tucked up under her legs, and a bowl of cold cereal set before her, Melinda looked like a girl twenty years younger than she was.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please!”

Sember handed her a cup from the tray, then sat down at the table across from her.

“You okay? It’s late for you to not be tackling every unfinished project in the world by now.”

“Yeah, it is late. And no, I’m not so great. That’s why I asked you to come over.”

“What’s up?”

Melinda took a sip of the hot drink, and then answered the question.

“Do you remember that hotel case from last month?”

“Sure. Closed and filed. Cut and dry. I like ‘em like that.”

“Me, too. Except that...I’m not so sure it was all that cut and dry.”

“Hm. What makes you think that?”

“Well...I’ve been having dreams about it.”

Sember frowned over her coffee. She trusted Melinda, who was a fine up and coming agent, but she also made it a point to deal in cold, hard, objective facts. Dreams rarely if ever fit those criteria.

“What kind of dreams, Melinda?”

Melinda sighed, being well aware of Sember’s skepticism.

“In my dreams, we didn’t close the case. In fact, the whole thing was a setup. While we were searching the perp’s room, I set off some kind of trap. We were both knocked out and tied up. When I came to, some mysterious woman had drugged and brainwashed you. She was milking you for intel. Then she turned her attention to me. She didn’t drug me, but she used…”

Embarrassed and blushing, Melinda stared into her cup.

“She used what?”

“Hypnosis. She got you to tell her how to hypnotize me, and then she put me under and brainwashed me just like she did you.”

Now Sember understood her partner’s embarrassment..

“Look, I’m no shrink. But it sounds to me like you feel guilty about our past experiments with erotic hypnosis. But that was totally personal and had nothing to do with our professional relationship. It was between you and me and no one else. Nothing bad happened. No one was put at risk. We just had some kinky fun for a while, and then we stopped.”

“Sember, I don’t think my dreams are about guilt. I don’t feel guilty about our hypno sessions. They were fun and sexy, and I agree that they were harmless. But these dreams, they’re so real. They don’t have dream-like qualities. Everything is sharp, in focus, linear, logical. My dreams are never like that. Plus, I’ve had these same ones almost every night this past week. I don’t think they’re dreams at all, really. I think I’m remembering something that someone--that woman--doesn’t want me to remember.”

Emotionally exhausted and not knowing what else to say, Melinda looked helplessly at Sember. Sighing, Sember nodded in acknowledgment, if not agreement.

“Melinda, I don’t think what you’re experiencing are memory flashes of real events. I don’t think that either of us has been brainwashed or compromised in any way. But, until I can prove you wrong, we have to consider that it’s a possibility, however unlikely. And if you are wrong, which is almost certainly the case, then we need to figure out what’s going on in your head. Either way, this is big. Really big. It’s beyond what I know how to deal with.”

“So, either I’m right, and we’re screwed, or I’m wrong, and I’m crazy. Great.”

“Being wrong doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It just means there’s something going on in your head that’s tripping you up.”

“Yeah, I guess. But being right still means we’re screwed.”

“True. But you’re not, and we’re not. Okay?”

Sember stood up, moved over to Melinda, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Okay. Thanks, Sember. I really appreciate you being here.”

“No problem. Now, I’m going to make a phone call. I know someone who I can think can help us.”

Sember turned and walked out of the kitchen. A moment later, Melinda heard her talking in hushed tones on the phone. Then, several minutes after that, Sember came back and stood in the doorway. She wore an odd expression: Her eyes drooped, as if from sleepiness, and her mouth bore a subtle, Mona Lisa-esque smile.

“Everything is going to be fine.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t be having those dreams. It’s a problem. But it’s totally fixable.”

“I don’t understand. What’s fixable?”

“She is coming here. She’ll be here in an hour or so. Then, she will fix everything.”

“She? Who is she?”

“Our Mistress.”

A sudden, sharp pang of pure terror pierced Melinda’s gut. She knew who ‘our Mistress’ was--the woman from her dreams, which weren’t dreams at all. And she knew why Sember looked sleepy and content--because she had been triggered back into the suggestible, submissive state she’d been in that day at the hotel. Something must have made her call the woman--probably a lingering part of her brainwashing--and while on the phone, she’d been placed fully back under the woman’s control.

Melinda leapt up from her chair and readied herself to fight or run. Worse than losing Sember to the woman’s nefarious influence, Melinda knew that she herself was at risk. Even if she didn’t bear post-hypnotic triggers implanted by the woman (and she felt very sure now that she did), Sember still had her own triggers that she had used previously to hypnotize Melinda when they had engaged in their fantasy play.

“Sember, listen to me: You are under someone else’s control. You have to--”

“Slave: freeze.”

Melinda stopped moving and could not start again.

“No, Sember, don’t do this! Fight it!”

“Slave: gag.”

As if gagged, Melinda found herself unable to speak.

“Mistress wants you contained but not harmed. You will remain as such until she arrives and can re-induce you. She doesn’t want you under my control, as I am now under hers, because she wants to watch and enjoy as she hypnotizes you herself. She loves how going under arouses you. Oh, but she also wants you dressed in something sexy. Where do you keep your lingerie?”

Melinda said nothing.

“Ah, right. You cannot speak. Slave: robot. Now you can move and speak, but only when and how I command you to. Again, tell me where you keep your lingerie.”

“In my bedroom, in the top drawer of the blue dresser.”

“Do you have more than one set? Mistress wants me dressed in something sexy, too.”

Melinda nodded.

“Very good. Go upstairs and bring down two sets of your sexiest lingerie. When you get back, we will change into them together. Then, we will wait for Mistress. When she arrives, she will hypnotize and brainwash you again. As she has done to me, she will condition you to enjoy serving and pleasing her. You and I will both spend the rest of the day being very, very happy.”

With no control over her body’s motions, Melinda found herself leaving the kitchen and climbing the stairs up to her bedroom. She fumed at her inability to resist, but no amount of effort succeeded in breaking her free. A few moments later, she returned to the kitchen. She handed one set of lingerie to Sember. Together, they disrobed. Then they dressed in the sheer, lacey underwear.

All the while, Melinda strived to figure a way out of this mess. But with Sember controlling her body, and the woman soon arriving to control her mind, she could think of nothing. She refused to resign herself and her partner to their impending fate. And yet, in her heart, she knew that they were destined to serve as brainwashed slaves to the woman. Just as they had before, when she’d captured them in the hotel, so they would again for as long as their Mistress wished it….