Lydia's Hypnosis (Lesbian Mind Control Erotica) (12 page)

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Lynn sighed as she clicked through the dating site’s list of potentials. Her eyes scanned the series of disappointing thumbnails for the third time in the last hour. There were good-looking men with some intellect, certainly, but they disappeared from the market quickly - often without explanation, even if she’d gone on a date or two with them.

The rest of the men online seemed only slightly better than cavemen; their uncouth, incomprehensible, or desperate messages immediately earned a click from her ‘ignore’ button. In any case, her year of being single had worn her down into a repetitive habit of forlorn clicking.

She clicked back to her own profile, wondering if her bad luck was due to something she’d written, or maybe her photos. Brunette, age twenty-eight (listed as twenty-six, of course), cute shoulder-length hair, nice cleavage if she did say so herself… she frowned, and wondered if she should go blonde…

This, too, was a ritual she ran through a dozen times a day. She glanced at the clock briefly, noting she had fifteen minutes until work ended. She’d probably do this all again at least once more before quitting time.

She looked around to see if any of her coworkers were free. They all seemed busy chatting away on their headsets with - she shuddered mentally every time she thought the word -
customers.
The only
customers
that ever called her company were the ones with complaints, and they were usually the lowest common denominator of the lowest of the low, often with a bonus tendency to shout and swear… she leaned her cheek on her curled hand and gazed around the cubicle farm in abject boredom and despair.

Her eyes lit up as her inbox indicator changed from zero to one. She hovered her mouse over the button, relishing the moment. Even though it was probably a dud, every unsolicited message was like playing the lottery, and she enjoyed the rush. She waited a moment more, imagining and hoping at the possibilities, and then she clicked.

You’re really cute.

“Another winner,” Lynn grumbled at her monitor, before she looked at the sender’s picture. Her eyes widened as she realized her one-line disappointment had been sent by - a girl! She checked her profile and confirmed that she was still listed as ‘straight.’ Frowning, she clicked the female sender’s picture. Her profile was rather sparse, and listed her as straight, too…

Hey there,
said a sudden message box in the corner of her screen. Lynn silently cursed, only then remembering that the website notified people that were online when someone looked at their profile.

Uh, hi
, she wrote back after a moment, still wondering how the mix-up in messaging had happened. Lynn clicked through her pictures - the girl was at a bar or a party in every picture. She had short black hair, pale porcelain skin, a metal lip stud, and seemed to favor bright red lipstick. She was obviously from a scene Lynn herself had never really been a part of in college… how old was this girl, anyway? She clicked over, and her jaw dropped slightly.

Like what you see?

Lynn looked around at her coworkers, wondering if somebody had found her profile and was playing a prank on her, but nobody seemed to be paying attention.

lol, what is this?
Lynn wrote back.
Are you really only twenty?

Yeah, is that a problem?
came the quick response.

No, I mean, what’s a twenty year old girl doing messaging me?

I think you’re cute, duh. Can’t you read?

She sat back in her chair for a moment, confused. She’d tried to dance around the issue, tried to beat around the bush, but she could see this girl wasn’t the type to mince words. As was her habit when stressed, she unthinkingly stuck her tongue out to the side a little as she typed her very direct response.

I mean we’re both straight, so what’s this about?

What, can’t a girl think another girl is cute?

Relieved, Lynn sighed. She felt a little bad for being so confrontational.

Oh, ok. Thanks :)

A moment passed before the girl’s response appeared.

Sure. Want to hang out?

Hang out?
Lynn asked, surprised.
Like what?

I don’t know, a bar or a club, whatever. You do drink, right?

Of course I drink!
she wrote back, wondering how awkward it would be to hang out with a twenty-year old - and confused as to why she was even entertaining the notion. She still felt a little bad for questioning the girl’s intent, and she did feel complemented…

Come on, it’ll be fun!

Ok, alright,
she gave in, surprising herself.
But when and where specifically?

Tonight around nine. What’s your number?

Lynn messaged her cell number, still confused, surprised, and cautious.

Cool, I’ll text you later!

And with that, the girl logged off.

Lynn sat motionless in her chair, stunned. She had absolutely no idea why she’d agreed to hang out with some random twenty-year old girl off the internet… if the girl was even a girl at all… she wasn’t really worried that it was secretly some old creeper, but it was still best to be cautious. But what if she
was
real? She’d agreed to go drinking with some strange young girl… probably down on campus, where she hadn’t been in years… and she hadn’t even gotten her name…

Even worse than that, she hadn’t specified that their hanging out
wasn’t
a date.

She looked at the clock, worried. What had she gotten herself into?

And why, even with all these concerns, was she still a little bit excited?

She chalked it up to her rather boring social life over the past year. An awkward adventure was still an adventure, and it’d be interesting to see campus again… maybe she’d even make a few friends. Still, her heart raced, and she bolted the moment the clock hit five.

She tried to take a nap when she got home, in case she needed to stay out late, but a strange shaky nervousness gripped her chest. To keep herself occupied, she paced around her apartment, cleaning and adjusting everything in sight. The couch seemed to scream for dusting, the fridge needed cleaned out, the carpet needed vacuumed… eight o’ clock came calling, only to find her trying to apply makeup with trembling fingers. She glared back at the clock, wishing it would freeze, or skip forward - anything to alleviate her anxious energy.

Nine o’ clock rolled by at an agonizing snail’s pace, leaving her to count her rapid heartbeats as she stared at her phone.

9:01… 9:02… 9:03…

A thousand doubts ran through her mind. What if the mysterious girl had forgotten? Or decided to vanish without explanation, like so many other online dates? And was this even a date? If so, why was she still going? And what if it was just some creeper trying to capture her or something? She resolved not to go if she was asked to show up anywhere strange or unsafe. She sat tall and smiled. Yes, that was the smart thing. This weird old creeper guy would ask her to go to a warehouse or something, and she’d say no. She sighed with relief.

The phone rang.

She literally jumped from her bed in shock.

The phone rang again.

She picked it up with no small terror, and answered the call.

“Hello?” she asked, hearing the loud noises of a bar.

“Hey!” came the reply, with a voice that was decidedly
not
an old creepy man. Lynn’s heart sank as she realized that she might actually have to go… but the rest of her trembled with anticipation. For once, it was Friday night, and she had plans! Not ideal plans, sure, but it was something!

“So?” the velvety voice prompted. The girl sounded young, certainly, but her voice had a deep sultry undertone, shot through with brazen confidence. Lynn found herself immediately intimidated, picturing some sort of badass chick far too cool for her… but even if that imagined exaggeration was true, the girl
had
thought she was cute. “You coming?”

“Uh, um,” she spluttered. “Yeah - yes. Where?”

“You know the bar on Fourth?”

“Hah, do I!” she replied, remembering many a drunken night spent with friends. Her smile quickly turned into a nervous frown as she realized she had no reason not to go. “I… can be there in fifteen minutes…”

“Cool, see you soon.”

The bar noises went quiet, and Lynn stared at her phone. She’d forgotten to get the girl’s name again. As she thought about what she had to do - walk into that bar by herself, meet some
girl
whose name she didn’t even know, for what might actually be a date or something - her nervous energy surged. Her jaw shook, and she stood and clenched her hands to fight the intense reaction.

“Ok Lynn, you gotta calm down,” she said to herself. “Sure, you’re talking to yourself, that’s fine, that’s fine… think this through… what’s the worst that could happen?”

She knew the area, and she knew the bar, and she wasn’t far. She knew she wasn’t going to be kidnapped or anything. She knew she was meeting a girl, too… that was a good question. What’s the worst that could happen? The girl might think she wasn’t pretty enough, or cool enough, and blow her off… but eh, she could handle that. She wasn’t a vulnerable young girl anymore.

It was far more likely they would actually just hang around at the bar and have a good time, or at least a mildly awkward and vaguely pleasant time. Her usual friends were slowly growing more distant… couldn’t hurt to make a new one, even if it was a twenty-year old… and this girl didn’t seem to be the drama-creating type she’d loathed in college.

Lynn’s heart rate slowed as she breathed deep and reassured herself everything was going to be fine - it would probably be very interesting, in fact.

But what if this girl actually meant this to be a date? Her heart rate shot right back up as she envisioned the awkward scenario she might blunder into. What if this girl tried to kiss her or touch her or something? She thought back on the last year, and an endless series of frustrations… and her thoughts strayed toward how much she missed getting off with another person.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, wondering if that was really a possibility, really a
thing
. Was there… some way… was there an orgasm down some string of the night’s decisions? Would this girl…
get her off?
A hand was just a hand, after all… would she expect reciprocation?

Lynn stood, fighting her trembling breath to walk to the door, determined. She could play it by ear, surely. She didn’t have to agree to anything she didn’t want to do. The likelihood was extremely remote, anyway. What was the chance it was really a date,
and
that they really hit it off that much on a first date, considering she wasn’t even into women?

She locked her apartment door and headed to the bar. Best case scenario, she’d make a new friend and hang out and have a nice Friday. Worst case… the imagined sensations of a powerful, nervous, and taboo orgasm lingered at the fringes of her thoughts.

Much to her surprise, the guy at the door recognized her and waved her past without checking her age. She entered in a daze, looking around her old stomping grounds. Her favorite bar wasn’t huge and crowded like most campus locales, but it was no hole in the wall.

A hundred different beer-branded mirrors decorated the wall in random patterns, and a few televisions hung above the bartenders. One waved as she approached through the crowd.

“Hey, Lynn!”

“Wow, hey Danni,” she replied, leaning up against the bar to avoid the press of bodies around her. Danni was a few years older than her, and seemed to have worked at the bar forever. She wore a tight blue tank-top that quite literally displayed her immense cleavage. Lynn had never been sure if the woman’s bubbly personality was put on for tips, or whether she really was that cheery… but, either way, she was secretly jealous of those enormous breasts. She made sure to avoid looking.