Emma Snowe: Avenging Hypnodomme
Chapter 2
by GlassO
CHAPTER 2
Cassandra entered the small salon on Newbury street. There was no signage. No tacky large window where one could gape at the customers. Just a discreet sign on the door that read: “By Appointment Only” and a phone number. She checked the address on the card that Renee had given her to make sure it matched.
Before she could ring the bell, the door opened, and a small middle-aged asian woman greeted her.
Before she could ring the bell, the door opened, and a small middle-aged asian woman greeted her.
“Good afternoon,” she said in heavily accented english, “I’m Maliwan. You must be Dr. Cassandra. We have been expecting you. Please come in.” She bowed slightly. Cassandra was amused by the decorum and entered with a heightened sense of curiosity.
The place felt more like a storied house than a salon. Cassandra hung her coat on the hooks next to several other coats. She sat on the bench and was about to remove her Christian Louboutin boots, but the matron quickly knelt before her.
“Please, allow me miss.”
Cassandra smirked to herself. How familiar this was. Like one of her slaves demonstrating their obedience; except this woman merely removed her boots without the usual worship; no kissing; no licking. However, the reverence this woman had for her expensive footwear...that was very much aligned with her slaves.
She placed them next to a very well-maintained and sizable pair of black Khait leather knee boots with fur trim. Cassandra was struck with a moment of yearning. She wanted these. She wondered who they belonged to, and how she was going to get a pair. These looked way too large for her. She wondered about the Amazon that these must belong to. How big was she? Five-ten? At least. She made a mental note to have one of her slaves buy her a pair.
The carpet was unnaturally soft. Decadent. It reminded her of the carpeting in her office. She loved the feel of it on the soles of her feet. How different this was from the antiseptic and hollow salons she usually went to. This felt like an upscale bordello with its plush carpeting, dark wood, and mood lighting. Hardly the sterile environments she was used to for these services.
Cassandra followed the woman through a large set of double doors that slid open silently. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this. The large room felt like a Victorian parlor, replete with a cozy fire smoldering in the roomy fireplace. Save for the fact that there were two large client chairs facing the fireplace, the room could have been a drawing room in the fanciest of english manors.
Cassandra followed the woman through a large set of double doors that slid open silently. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this. The large room felt like a Victorian parlor, replete with a cozy fire smoldering in the roomy fireplace. Save for the fact that there were two large client chairs facing the fireplace, the room could have been a drawing room in the fanciest of english manors.
Maliwan guided her to the closest chair, where a pretty young Thai woman smiled brightly at her. Next to her another woman well into her own treatment. A very tall woman judging by her long muscular legs. So this is who owns those boots. She was wearing only a short spa gown that was failing in its duty to provide modesty, as a small gown on a large woman is want to do. Cassandra wondered if they forgot to offer her one. This gown appeared to have bunched up a little near her waist, and Cassandra was certain that the girl at her foot could look right up to her pussy. Cassandra was curious. The woman appeared to be sleeping, which Cassandra thought was a waste, seeing how her girl was giving a vigorous and deep foot massage. A warm towel covered her face and she heard her give a deep sigh in response to the deft hands that were working her foot. That foot. That incredible foot. Cassandra’s mouth hung open.
Cassandra let out a little gasp when she saw the foot. The absolutely perfect foot of an angel. Pale; almost porcelain in quality. Muscular and quite large. Larger than nearly any woman’s feet, but still deeply feminine. Toes that were begging to be sucked. Cassandra struggled to find a flaw. A toe out of proportion. A blemish. But there was none to be had. The nails had a lustrous finish but no color. Just a healthy glow. They...radiated...and the flicker of the fire added an almost super-natural quality to them. She began to hyper-fixate on that big toe. If she had to find fault; had to find something amiss, it would be that the big toe was slightly bulbous...but that only made her imagine what it would be like to have that toe penetrate her. She could imagine herself lowering herself on that toe while this woman slept, completely enthralled...
No...not sleeping. Just deeply, deeply relaxed.
She gestured to the reclining woman and spoke to Maliwan.
“Is there a gown for me to wear? Is this the custom here?”
Maliwan bowed slightly.
Maliwan bowed slightly.
“Oh, Miss Penelope is here for other spa services as well. The gown is not necessary for your pedicure and massage.
Penelope. What an odd, old-fashioned name Cassandra thought. More suited for an aging dowinger or a minor Bronte character. Certainly not for this Amazon goddess. Hera, or perhaps Hecate...those would be names more suited. She wondered what she looked like under that towel covering her face. Her white hair would suggest someone older, but her body looked relatively young. As Cassandra took her seat she burned with curiosity about this woman with the stunning feet. Almost immediately her mind began to scheme of how she would hypnotically enslave this woman. It became a singular focus as she mentally ran through inductions that would be most effective in these circumstances.
Her scheming was interrupted by the sensation of warm oil being applied to her right foot and skilled hands working its way into the sole.
“My God that feels incredible!” she involuntarily shouted. Immediately she regretted her outburst, knowing it would disturb this stranger’s respite. The regret was immediately belayed when it became her foray into conversation.
The woman giggled knowingly. “First time?” she said, lifting the towel off her mouth slightly so she could be heard. The woman’s voice was wonderfully warm.
“Is it always like this?” Cassandra replied. “I may have found my new happy place.” Cassandra stole a look at that mouth. Puffy lips. Soft. Begging to be kissed. Begging to find their place pressed deeply into her backside.
“Every time.” Penelope said. She removed the towel from her face and put on a set of heavy glasses, presumably for her one good eye. Her left eye was covered with an eye patch marring an otherwise pretty face. It was terribly distracting. Cassandra had to make an effort to look at her good eye to avoid speculating on what might be the cause of the patch. She had a feeling it must be something permanent. There was no bandage or any other clue that would suggest it was a temporary situation. And most people would have commented on it, but Penelope acted like it was completely normal. It was easy to focus on the good eye. Her thick glasses magnified it and highlighted the deep blue color. Cassandra caught herself staring. The eye was quite hypnotic. Easy to get lost in.
“Oh, I’m Penelope by the way.” and she extended her hand.
Cassandra’s mind raced. An opportunity. She could, after all, take that hand, and with a few lingering touches quickly place Penelope into trance. She’d mastered the Erickson handshake induction years ago and was well practiced at placing unsuspecting victims in a trance with the right touch and the right words.
Her thoughts went to a couple she’d met at a party a few months ago. As she went to shake hands with the wife, she quickly grabbed her wrist with her left hand and held it up before her face, inducing catalepsy. She commanded the wife to look at her hand, and to watch it move closer and closer to her face. So easy to ensnare the mind when it is in a state of confusion. How desperately it wants to figure out what to do...so easy to just take suggestions and resolve the crisis. She informed the wife, quite matter of factly, that as her hand drew closer to her face that she would fall into a deep hypnotic trance. Cassandra remembered the wonderful transition of confusion to blankness on the woman’s face as she succumbed. The husband tried to intervene but Penelope stopped him.
“Shh,” she said slyly. “You’re next.” That shut him up and all he could do was watch as his wife’s hand jerked slowly to her face, and then watched her slump over into Cassandra’s arms as she fell into trance. Cassandra eyed him intently over his wife’s shoulder. She gave him a wink as she rocked the wife slowly and spoke quietly in her ear. She left the wife to sway in place and she approached him. The husband could barely hear her counting down backwards from 100.
“Doesn’t she look absolutely serene?” she asked.
The man didn’t know what to say. There was something undeniable erotic about watching this beautiful woman take control of his wife like that.
“Would you like to join her?” And Cassandra took out a pocket watch and dangled it in front of his eyes.
Before he could answer, she dropped the watch, and then dropped him.
She loved this kind of shock induction. She could drop the most jaded hypnotist with this trick. Seeing something so valuable in peril, that instinct to save it, that jolt to the nervous system, that’s all she needed to slip in her suggestion that would bypass any defense.
“Sleep!” she commanded and he fell into her arms.
By night’s end the couple were crawling around naked on all fours believing themselves to be dogs in heat. The wife would present herself to anyone and everyone and more than one person would finger her from behind while she squealed and howled everytime she came. A few of them lead her into the bedroom to take advantage of the situation.
The husband though..well what wouldn’t he hump? Legs, furniture, everything was fair game. One woman had finally had enough and jerked him off until he came all over the living room carpet and quickly fell asleep.
Cassandra made a note that she should crash more parties more often.
Cassandra brought her mind back to the present. It was so easy to get lost in these daydreams of debauchery. The price of an over-active imagination.
She shook Penelope’s hand with just a hint of lingering. Not to entrance, but to take the first steps to seduction. To imply an impending intimacy. To let her know the interest is there. Good hypnosis, after all, required trust. Of course, Cassandra would betray that trust the moment it suited her, but her victims didn’t know that. Well, not until it was too late anyway.
She shook Penelope’s hand with just a hint of lingering. Not to entrance, but to take the first steps to seduction. To imply an impending intimacy. To let her know the interest is there. Good hypnosis, after all, required trust. Of course, Cassandra would betray that trust the moment it suited her, but her victims didn’t know that. Well, not until it was too late anyway.
Penelope’s hand was warm and soft; and similarly large like her feet. Cassandra felt slightly intimidated; slightly small shaking this woman’s hand. The woman made no attempt to break contact. She was lingering as Cassandra was. And her eye looked straight at her. Not at her... through her. What a withering gaze this woman has! If Cassandra had any doubts about whether she would be able to bed Penelope those thoughts shriveled away under the glare of this stare. Wait a second...who is seducing here? Cassandra entertained a fleeting fantasy. She was accustomed to being the aggressor. The seductress. The predator. This was slightly unfamiliar territory for her and it made her heart race.
She thought about her own conquests. She thought about their lust, their fear. She thought about how their initial excitement of being the object of her attention gave way to a different kind of excitement when they realized they were helpless before her. How helpless they were to their prey response to give up and submit to the predator. To go limp in her jaws and be made helpless and submissive to her will. Cassandra knew this feeling from studying her prey and often wondered how delicious it must feel. But she did not have to wonder...she was feeling it now. She was allowing herself to feel it. This was not hypnotic conquest. There was no game here except for the lust of an Amazonian femme who was not ashamed to eye fuck her in this intimate, yet not compltely private space space.
Eventually, they broke their grasp, and Cassandra found herself immediately missing Penelope’s touch. It had communicated so much! Trust, camaraderie, and lustful intent. She stared at Penelope’s foot, which appeared even larger with those small hands kneading it with such vigor. She imagined her own hands on that foot. Her tongue on that toe. Her pussy sliding up and down...and Penelope...Penolope blissfully enjoying it, not as a hypnotic thrall...but fully aware and cognisant.
Cassandra tried to remember the last time she’d had a lover that wasn’t under her hypnotic domination. College? Maybe not even then. So much of arousal derived from her lovers’ complete and utter submission to her. Watching them drop, often unwillingly, and becoming placid and obedient...how often had that alone made her come without even touching herself? Sometimes having a fuckdoll for play was almost an afterthought. What would her lovers say if they knew she secretly fucked their feet? How antithetical it would be to her image. It would be devastating.
Cassandra’s daydreaming was interrupted by Penelope’s yelping.
“Yes! Yes! Right there, Mae! Press harder! Yes!” Penelope squealed. Cassandra looked at her wide-eyed. Penelope’s hand gripped the armrest tightly and a slight sheen of sweat formed over her face. Cassandra looked at the masseuse. She had a sly grin on her face. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Penelope’s orgasm was swift and thunderous. Her whole body shook and she convulsed uncontrollably, completely unashamed. Cassandra was in awe. She’d never seen a more beautiful sight in her entire life.
Penelope began to come down and she caught her breath. “Thank you, Mae, thank you, you are amazing, amazing,” she said in labored breaths.
“Always happy to make you happy Miss Penelope” Mae said slyly.
Cassandra’s eyes were as wide as saucers and her pussy was thoroughly and hopelessly soaked. Her arousal was further inflamed by Penelope grabbing her arm.
“I’m so sorry,” she said with bold urgency. “This is terribly embarrassing..but I think I might have something of a foot fetish I’m afraid...and well...sometimes I can’t help myself when my feet get touched in a certain way. Poor Mae here..she’s very tolerant of my...pecularities. And honestly..I feel so...safe in this place. So cared for.”
“Always happy to make you happy Miss Penelope” Mae said again. Clearly this was a common place enough occurrence that it was not a big deal. In fact Cassadra was sure she saw Mae with a wry smile on her face. Pride in workmanship.
Cassandra struggled to maintain some composure. Between getting her feet getting expertly massaged by the most amazing hands she’d ever encountered and this beautiful woman having an intense foot-centric orgasm next to her, Cassandra’s mind was awash in lust. It was terribly confusing and wonderful.
“Penelope,” she said hoarsely, “may I offer some honest insight?”
“Oh you must think terrible of me! I tried not to come, I swear it!,” she pleaded, “but how do you stop an orgasm? I did not realize it was going to happen until it was too late! I’m a terrible slut, aren’t I? I’m sorry to have made you witness this. I’ll leave you in peace.”
Now Cassandra was the one to grab Penelope; both to stop her from leaving and convey her passion.
“Watching you come was one of the hottest fucking things I have ever seen. Your feet are beautiful. Magnificent. They belong in a museum. I have thought of nothing but wanting to caress and kiss them since I first laid eyes on them. You are not alone in your sexual fixation with feet. I have it too. Many people do. I’d wager you’re not the first person to have an orgasm here. Cassandra addressed Mae who was still massaging Penelope’s feet, though with markedly less vigor. “Mae, have other people ever had orgasms here while you were working on their feet.”
Both masseuses giggled.
“Oh yes Miss. It’s very common. Men, women. We don’t mind. Always get a generous tip when you make a client come. Would you enjoy that?”
Cassandra was taken off guard. Before she could answer, the lovely woman working her foot changed up her technique. Something magical and unknown. Electricity ran up from the soles of her feet and tingled her clit excruciating.
“What are you? Oh god...oh...oh...” she pleaded. All the while Penelope was holding her hand. The pleasure intensified as she felt another pair of hands on the other foot. Touching and massaging in a way that made her clit throb even more urgently. She squirmed in her chair as she closed her eyes to focus on the pleasure. She squeezed back at Penelope’s hand, grateful for this.
Thoughts were hard to form and harder to keep. It occurred to her for a fleeting moment that this was the first time she would come without a hypnotized thrall under her command. And the first time anyone had ever seen her come. Well consciously seen her. She thought of her thralls and their blank stares as she would rub herself on their feet. She thought about how she would make them come for her. Those deliciously confused looks as their arousal overwhelmed them. How embarrassed they were, coming for her, unaware they were responding to their hypnotic conditioning. Cassandra envied them. Blissfully submerged in pleasure. Deeply entranced. How wonderful that must feel!
These thoughts flittered around Cassandra’s mind like skittish butterflies. She was hardly aware that Penelope was speaking to her. “Allow yourself this pleasure Cassandra. Allow yourself to come. Allow yourself to let go and give in.”
“Yes....yes....”Cassandra heard herself say. What a liberation this was! These women...who understood her. Who wanted nothing but to make her feel good. Who understood the beauty and magnificence of feet. She thought about Penelope’s foot now...it was so perfect so...she was so close now. She began to moan and squirm...and then...and then...
She felt it. Penelope’s foot. On her chest. Pressing down even. She wanted to grab it, caress it, kiss it, worship it, but she was no longer in control. She thrashed about as she came thunderously. And when she heard the sharp snap by her ear and the forceful command to “SLEEP!” she obeyed dutifully as her orgasmic trance morphed into a hypnotic one and her thoughts focused into a singular thought: pleasure.
She felt it. Penelope’s foot. On her chest. Pressing down even. She wanted to grab it, caress it, kiss it, worship it, but she was no longer in control. She thrashed about as she came thunderously. And when she heard the sharp snap by her ear and the forceful command to “SLEEP!” she obeyed dutifully as her orgasmic trance morphed into a hypnotic one and her thoughts focused into a singular thought: pleasure.
She did not consciously hear the words that followed, but she agreed to them readily for they promised her more of this delicious, unending pleasure that only the voice could give her.
Penelope, or rather Emma, was very pleased that this phase of the plan had succeeded exceedingly well.