From my spot on the couch, I heard the front door open and close. A moment later, I saw my sexy lady, G, walk into the living room. Although as gorgeous as ever, she wore a look of absolute weariness upon her face. She didn't kick off her shoes so much as shuffle out of them. Then she padded across the carpet in her bare feet and collapsed on the couch beside me. With considerable effort punctuated by a grunt, she lifted her legs up and deposited them over my lap. Then she sighed, leaning back against the cushions and closing her eyes.

"That answers my unasked question about how your day went," I said.

"You know," she said, "sometimes it would be nice to be appreciated at work. I don't need constant praise. I don't need a prize or a medal. Just a little bit of recognition for the work I do would go a long way. I know I'm not a superheroine, who saves lives, busts bad guys, and handles emergencies. But that doesn't mean my job isn't important or deserving of an occasional nod from my boss."

"Would you like to be a superheroine?"

"Yeah, I would. Of course, I'd be the one who never gets the key to the city, or who gets passed over for an invitation to join the A-list team."

She sighed again.

"You know you're my superheroine, right?" I asked.

"I know, baby. Thank you."

Taking her feet into my hands, I began to massage them. This elicited a moan from her, indicating not only her pleasure, but her desire for me to continue. Had she gasped or jerked, it would have signaled something else: that I had tickled her and to stop it immediately.

Tickling her feet was easy and took almost no effort at all. If she knew it was coming, she could briefly steel herself against it. But if caught unaware, she couldn't control her physical reactions, which would include laughter, gasping, jerking, twisting, and kicking.

But tickling wasn't my intent. No, I wanted to relax her and make her feel good. Years of practice had made me an excellent masseur. Still, given how ticklish she was, I had to pay special attention to what I was doing. I concentrated on applying the right amount of pressure to her toes, soles, and heels. And I avoided light scratches and playful caresses, as those were her ticklish triggers.

She continued to moan, and her mouth upturned into a lovely smile. I smiled, too, happy to give my wonderful woman pleasure. Then I began to speak.

"You are a superheroine. A strong, powerful superheroine, who everyone admires and appreciates."

As I said the words, I pressed and rubbed her feet in a very particular pattern.

G loved the way I was massaging her feet, but she was unaware of exactly what I was doing. For just as certain kinds of touching caused frenzied protests from her, these well-practiced touches caused a different reaction: They deeply relaxed her and opened her mind up to suggestion. The more I touched her, the more relaxed and suggestible she would become.

This was one of my many ways of hypnotizing her. And I used it now.

"You are a superheroine," I said again. "A strong, powerful superheroine, who everyone admires and appreciates."

"I am a superheroine," she murmured, her eyes still closed. "A strong, powerful superheroine, who everyone admires and appreciates."

I repeated the words over and over again, and she did the same.

"The citizens you protect are thankful for you," I said, once I was confident that the first suggestion had sunk in. "They adore you and dedicate monuments to you." 

"The citizens I protect are thankful for me," she said, following my lead. "They adore me and dedicate monuments to me."

As I continued working on her feet, I kept repeating this new suggestion. And she repeated it back to me. It was my hope that this would make her feel better after the crappy, unappreciated day she'd had at work. And given the broad smile that she now wore, I think it worked.

Now, it was time to give her some other suggestions, using the same process of repetition to ensure they took hold in her mind. Of course, these suggestions had nothing to do with making her feel better. I had already succeeded in doing that. No, these were all about me having some fun....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

G awoke with a start.

"Huh? What? What happened? Where am I?"

My beautiful honey lay on her back in our bed, with her head elevated by pillows. She wore a spandex sports bra and workout pants, which hugged her feminine figure in amazing ways. Restraints around her wrists and ankles held her in place. Below the ankle cuffs, her exquisitely sumptuous feet remained bare.

I stood at the end of the bed, within arm's reach of her exposed soles. For the moment, I neither said, nor did anything. After assessing her situation, she glared up at me with seething fire in her eyes.

"Dr. Hypnotiq," she said venomously. "I should have known."

"Power Woman," I said with a sneer. "It's always a pleasure to have you at my mercy."

Now, I'm not actually Dr. Hypnotiq, and G isn't actually Power Woman. Those are, of course, fictional characters. So, this must have been some sexy role-play, right? Well, yes and no. I was role-playing my part. But G wasn't.

Although she was now wide awake and no longer hypnotized, she was acting on post-hypnotic suggestions that I had given her during my entrancing foot rub. She completely believed that she was the superheroine, Power Woman, and that I was her arch-enemy, Dr. Hypnotiq. Furthermore, she saw her spandex sports apparel as her costume, the bed as an exam table in my laboratory, and the fetish restraints as adamantium bands that could resist her much-vaunted strength.

"I'm going to break free," she said defiantly. "And then this isn't going to end well for you."

"On the contrary, it's going to end extremely well for me. But business must come before pleasure. So, tell me what you know of Formula ZYX."

"Not going to happen."

"I was hoping you'd say that. I'd rather force the information out of you. It's so much more fun."

"Do you worst."

"Oh, I will."

I leaned in and scratched lightly along her soles with my fingertips. G gasped. I repeated the motion, adding in occasional playful caresses. She squirmed. And squealed. And then finally broke out into riotous laughter. The restraints kept her from being able to move much, but boy did she push them to their limits. It was joyful to behold!

After a minute or so, I pulled back. She lay still, panting to catch her breath.

"Is that...your worst...you fiend?"

"No, my dear, it isn't. Not by far."

I turned around and retrieved an item. Then I turned back and showed it to her.

"Do you remember what this is?" I asked.

Her eyes widened in fear.

"Ah, yes, you do remember my electro-hypnotizer helmet. How could you forget, after becoming so intimate with it during your last stay here? Well, you actually could forget very easily, if I had wanted you to. Because once I used it on you, I had complete control of your mind. But, I didn't want you to forget. I wanted you to remember how I brainwashed you and made you into my slave."

In my hands, I held a bicycle helmet onto which I had glued some earmuffs and ski goggles. For added effect, I had painted colored swirls on the interior of the goggles. I walked over to her head and held the device above it.

G gritted her teeth and tried to pull away from me. But the restraints kept her immobilized. I dramatically lowered the "electro-hypnotizer" device until it rested upon her scalp.

"Click," I said, pantomiming pushing a button.

"No! No, please! Nooo..."

Even though I had never before hypnotized G into thinking that our role-playing sessions were real, we had role-played scenarios like this one when she was awake and in her right mind. So she knew what to expect from being "brainwashed." And she acted it out beautifully.

She began trembling from head to toe. She opened and closed her mouth, uttering occasional pleas and protests. As the seconds passed, she uttered less and less. Then she began moaning.

Our role-played brainwashings always included pleasure as a way of breaking down the subject's will. The longer the process went on, the more pleasure the subject felt, and the less will she had.

G remembered all of this, even though she didn't realize that none of it was real. For her, it was entirely real. In her highly suggestible state, she was experiencing rapidly increasing pleasure, as she slowly lost control of her mind.

Her response to the perceived stimulation grew and grew. She shook. She yelled. She arched her back.

Finally, she climaxed.

Then she lay there, quiet and spent. I removed the helmet and put it aside. Her eyes were open, but they stared blankly ahead.

"Can you hear me, Power Woman?"

"...Yes."

"I have brainwashed you. You are my slave. I am your master."

"...You have brainwashed me. I am your slave. You are my master."

"Good girl. When I command you to, you will tell me all about Formula ZYX."

"...When you command me to, Master, I will tell you all about Formula ZYX."

I couldn't help but smile at how wonderfully suggestible G was. This was so much fun! But more was to come...

Without undoing them, I added slack to the cords attached to her wrist restraints. Then, I undid the ankle restraints, giving her legs and feet the ability to move freely.

"Sit up," I said.

She sat up against the pillows, leaving more space at the end of the bed. I tightened up the slack on her wrist cords to secure her in her new position. Then I sat down on the bed before her feet.

"You will now tell me about Formula ZYX," I said.  "As you do, you will engage in Order 77, just as you did the last time I brainwashed you."

"...Yes, Master. Formula ZYX is a chemical compound that..."

G's creativity rivaled her suggestibility. She made up all sorts of amazing b.s. about ZYX off the top of her head. As for "Order 77," she knew exactly what it was because we had used that code before. Obeying my command, she carried it out:

First, she used her toes to undo my belt buckle. Then, she used them to unbutton and unzip my pants. And then...she went to work on me with the entirety of her feet.

If anything rivaled G's suggestibility and creativity, it was her pedial dexterity. So, as I had promised her earlier in character, it ended extremely well for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

G awoke, but this time with a yawn and a stretch. We were back out on the couch, and I rubbed her bare feet.

"Mm, that was just what I needed," she said with a sleepy smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," I said, smiling back at her.

A flicker of memory passed over her face and then quickly disappeared. I had instructed her to forget our bedroom role-play, at least for now. But that didn't mean she wasn't smart enough to know time had passed and I had probably been up to my usual, hypnotic tricks.

"Yeah, I bet it was your pleasure," she said with a smirk. "But how can I be mad when you make me feel so--mmmmm..."

I had applied the right pressure to the right spot. Her eyes closed, and she drifted off. And I decided to have some more fun....