I went into the bathroom to brush down my bed-head and wash my face while I waited for Spitfire to show up. I was a disheveled mess after my exhaustion-nap. At least the last shower had gotten rid of most of the hair-sparkles from Luna's mane and tail shampoo.

Moondancer's remarks about remedial magic stuck in my sleepy mind. I halfheartedly tried to tense up my hand and move one of the plastic cups on the counter with my mind – no glowing, no avail. If I was gonna learn proper magic, I was gonna need a trainer and a week in seclusion. Because apparently adults need more help finding the willpower to not use magic once they gain access to it.

Come to think of it, though... That was a pretty good explanation for why I hadn't asked some unicorn with a growth spell to hyper-fy my dick yet. Because once I cleared third-leg length, no one was gonna see me for a week, probably. The thought put a wry smirk on my face.

There was no knock – I just heard the door to the suite open and firmly close. "Pascal, you here?" Spitfire's voice called out.

I poked my head out of the bathroom doorway. "Yeah."

Spitfire was in some kind of Wonderbolt officer's uniform, though with the top buttons undone and the black tie draped loosely around her collar. Her brow sagged like she'd been glowering all day and had gotten stuck like that, though she perked up smugly when she saw the state I was in. "Woah. The Princess been riding you a little too hard, you lucky bastard?"

I nearly mentioned that it was Princesses plural, but thought better of it. "Basically." I walked out, holding the straps of my robe to keep it closed around my torso. "What brings you?"

Spitfire tilted her head down at me and let out an aggravated sigh. "What else would I come to you for?"

It took my brain a second to think of the obvious answer – a little hypnotic R&R – but I felt the need to protest. "I dunno, some good conversation?"

"No. No," she said firmly, swiping an X in front of her with both arms. "I do not want to have a long, deep, philosophical discussion right now." The Wonderbolt captain looked more and more visibly stressed with every second. Her hands strangled the air as though it were someone's neck. "My day has been so annoying and stupid that it doesn't even bear repeating. I am going to burst a blood vessel or something at this rate. So hang up the chit-chat and just zap me. Capiche?"

It sounded serious. And I had a couple of hours to kill before I was due to prepare for Trixie's big plans tonight. With a lazy sweeping gesture of my arm, I replied, "Right this way, ma'am."

I pulled up a chair and let Spitfire lay down on the bed. I had told her to do whatever she needed to get comfortable.

Spitfire took that as an invitation to take every last scrap of her clothes off.

"Ahhhh, that's better already," she declared, throwing her bare yellow body against the pillows and cushions. She arched her back as her impressive wings stretched to either side, which had the side benefit of thrusting her perfectly perky jutting F-cups into the air above her. Spitfire delighted in the way my eyes followed the tips of her nipples and their journey skyward. "Glad to know I don't need two wheelbarrows to keep your attention."

Mildly stung, I fired back with, "A true connoisseur appreciates all shapes and sizes," – channeling that manga panel I'd seen out of context once.

"Pffft. Easy to say when the gods themselves made 'nice-looking tits' a fucking law of nature."

"'Nice' is... an understatement," I admitted. "Why do you think I got into so much trouble?"

"I bet." Spitfire shimmied her shoulders to snuggle deeper into the pillows. "This is nice," she commented on the bed. "And still warm."

I wiped away a bit more eye-sand. "You literally woke me up."

"Guess you'll have to get back at me by putting me to sleep, huh?" she said with an evil grin. The fit and toned pegasus straightened herself on the bed, resting her fairly muscular arms at her sides, in anticipation of the beginning of my induction.

I leaned forward in my chair, considering the task at hand. Not only how my amateur hypnosis was going to work, not only trying to figure out what Spitfire wanted out of this session, but wondering about the very nature of my power over her.

"What's the holdup?" she asked, after I'd said nothing for a few seconds. Then she nodded to herself in presumed understanding. "I get it; look, you can have whatever naughty fun you want with me while I'm under. Figure a long, deep trance and about five orgasms oughta help. Just..." A momentary concerned look crossed her features. "Don't make me do anything embarrassing, like cluck like a chicken or something? Nothing stupid."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what that stage hypnotist you previously hired tried...?"

"Yeah," Spitfire grumbled with a couple of firm nods. "It was dumb."

This stallion sounded like a complete hack. Here I was, a rookie trained on half-remembered MP3s, aided by a subtle power I didn't even fully understand, and even then – the bar had been set on the floor.

Back on topic. "Look, Spitfire, I appreciate the consent – and boundaries – but I have one slightly more serious question before we start."

Spitfire groaned and snapped, "What?"

I clasped my hands together nervously. "I... still don't understand a lot about the Normal. The Acceptance, whatever. I've learned a lot about how it shields me and my friends from the judgment of others, but not so much about how it affects a singular mind. And I'm not sure how much of this... whole thing is just natural hypnosis or my power helping me out. So... I kinda want to test that out."

Spitfire raised an eyebrow at me. "So you can maybe help Celestia better?"

I hadn't even considered that. "Sure."

She sighed. She clearly didn't like having to wait much longer for her precious trance. I took a mental note to address that during the hypnosis. "What do you have in mind, then?" she asked.

Truth be told, I was making up the plan as I went along, but I had a basic idea. "I bring you down to trance like usual... and then... I try using the power directly on you to take you down even further."

"Oooooo," she ooo'd, which wasn't what I was expecting. "Will that be more relaxing?"

"Possibly, if it works," I replied. "Greater focus, greater surrender... but also greater control for me."

Spitfire smirked. She knew that was a direct hit to my fetish. "To do what, exactly?"

I shrugged. "Not sure yet. Just learn what I'm capable of. Y'know, when I have a remarkably good subject."

"Flattered." Spitfire moved her head away from looking at me and settled back into her pillow. "Fine, let's make this an adventure. Get this started."

Feeling my nerves bundle up, I straightened myself in my chair and, after a moment's thought, scooted it closer to Spitfire's head. That way I could lean forward and speak softly into her cute pony ears. "Alright," I said with purpose... and suddenly I was aware of how dry my throat felt. I stood up. "One sec, I'm gonna get a pitcher of water."

Spitfire groaned.

"One. Totally relaxed, totally focused, letting my voice carry you deeper and deeper into a nice, calm, comfortable trance. Nothing else worries you, nothing else bothers you; all you have to do is follow my voice and obey. Doing what I tell you feels so good, so calm, so relaxing. You are deeply in trance; exactly what you wanted, exactly what you asked for. Letting my voice bypass your conscious mind, to be heard by your subconscious mind, while the rest of you drifts along compliantly as though in a dream."

Laying down on the royal guest bed, utterly nude, her eyes closed and an easy smile across her face... Spitfire looked downright artistically peaceful. Like, you could make an oil painting of just how serene and carefree she was. The furrowing of her brow had lifted, and her resting frown was gone. I was rather impressed with myself; she'd once again taken to the trance like a duck to water.

It was different, doing this alone instead of having Trixie to assist. It was also different only having one subject to direct all of my attention upon. The acoustics of the group shower room had been slightly echoey, while this larger silent space made it feel more private and personal. And now having accomplished a full trance a second time, I felt a rather calming effect on myself as well. I was a little nervous at having full responsibility over a second mind, all to myself with no one else watching, but it was also natural to just chill and go with the flow of things. I had plenty of time; neither of us were in any hurry.

My thinking was: If I was going to make Spitfire my test subject today, I should probably give her something practical in return. Not to mention try to make her less dependent on me so this situation didn't happen so often. "Alright, Spitfire. You're nice and deep, and it's time to give you a few instructions. We'll get to the fun and interesting stuff in a moment, but I have something I want to tell you, something I want you to internalize and remember. Nod your head if you're ready to listen well."

With a lazy slowness, Spitfire moved as I had told her. Her smile dipped back down to a more neutral expression – her version of a serious face under the trance. I did a little fist-pump. Watching people respond to commands under hypnosis was so goddamn cool!

"Alright, Spitfire. Thank you. You're doing so well. I want to give you a gift, a tool, in exchange for all the help you've given me. I want to impart the knowledge of how to meditate. At least what I've learned. You see, all you need to do is find a comfortable place, breathe deeply and regularly – just like you're doing now – and repeat a mantra to yourself over and over. Some phrase or word that centers you, focuses you. Replaces all the ten-thousand other thoughts in your head with just that one. I want you to think of a mantra now. Maybe something you tell yourself to psyche up for a show. Don't tell me what it is; just think of it and nod your head when you're sure."

After about ten seconds or so, Spitfire nodded again.

"Good. You have your mantra? Good. I want you to store that deep in your mind, for later. The next time you're stressed at work or at home, and you've got 5, 10, 20 minutes free... Find a quiet, comfortable place, close your eyes, and say or whisper or think to yourself that mantra over and over again. It won't put you in a state quite as deep as trance, but it will calm you in a very similar way. All under your own power. I highly suggest looking up other breathing exercises; you seem like you would take well to them."

Hopefully that would make her less dependent on me in the future. She'd seemed beyond frustrated when she'd barged in here, and I had felt sorry that she'd felt like I was her only hope of relief. Dependence and control was all fun and games until it caused undue suffering, in my mind.

Still, I couldn't deny that I was enjoying this. Being in control in a hypnosis session somehow quieted many of the nagging voices in my mind. I still had to consider my words carefully, but there was no disputing that I was in control; there were no other minds or opinions to consider in real time. I could trust that Spitfire was okay with this, okay with me, and would let me know if I did something truly objectionable. I rarely ever felt that trust towards myself, so this was a nice change of pace.

I quietly scooted by chair closer to Spitfire's head, so I could reach out and touch her. It took a fair amount of willpower not to poke Spitfire's perky, upward-thrusting tits, or run my hands along her toned stomach and lithe arms. Why had she chosen to do this naked?

After taking a drink of water and swallowing hard, I said, "Alright, Spitfire. You're doing so well, and now it's time for the main event. I'm going to try using my magic directly on your mind. I may not know everything about it yet, but I know that when I touch ponies and speak commands, I can enchant them in more specific ways. I'm going to use that to take you– to try to take you into a deeper and more controlled trance."

Spitfire's serene lips curved upwards. Apparently she found that idea... exciting? Cool? I hadn't a clue.

I found myself leaning forward again. "You should know, however... I've previously told you that hypnotic trances are based on trust, and that you can't be forced into suggestions that you absolutely don't agree with. For this next stage, though..." My throat still felt a little dry, even though I'd just taken some water. "I don't know if that will still be completely true. This will be more like mind control than hypnosis, because we both know how this power can change perceptions. So it may be more difficult for you to resist or break out of the trance."

That faint smile on her face went away a little bit. She didn't seem overly bothered yet, not frowning or furrowing her brow. Hopefully she appreciated that I was telling her this up front.

I slowly reached out and gently placed my thumb on Spitfire's forehead. "So I want you to take this command, going forward..." The contact point between my skin and hers began to glow a blue color. "If you have a problem, and need to get my attention to say something or stop the trance, but you're finding it difficult to resist... I promise I will be watching and listening for some kind of signal. Tap my arm or my shoulder. Cross over your heart. I promise I will pause or stop whatever we're doing and allow you to speak your mind."

A pulse of blue magic waved out from under my thumb for a second. Spitfire gently nodded, and the smile came back.

I was a little freaked out. Whenever my hands glowed, that meant I was doing some serious magic, without even knowing how it worked. I was tapping into just a fraction of my full potential as the Avatar of Acceptance. I was basically across the aisle from Discord. I was going to be capable of some crazy, crazy things in the future.

For now, though, it was time for the experiment.

I adjusted my hand so that my palm rested comfortably on Spitfire's forehead. "It's time, Spitfire. We're going from your deep, comfortable trance now... to a level of focus and surrender even beyond. We'll be taking this slow. I'm going to count down from 100 to 1. Each number you hear, my magic enters a little bit more of your mind, your focus becomes a tiny bit more absolute, you body becomes ever so slightly more compliant and relaxed. If it makes you feel overly strange or afraid, give me a signal and we'll stop. Okay? And...

"100. 99. 98. 97..."

My whole palm was faintly glowing now, looking weird as it shone through the skin on the back of my hand. I faltered a bit, but Spitfire wasn't giving me any signals, so I continued on.

"...96. 95. 94. 93. 92. 91. 90. My magic, my active magic, has taken a foothold in your mind. Slowly coaxing you into complete surrender. Complete focus. Complete relaxation. I want you to trust me as we do this. I only want to use it to help you relax and have fun, and to understand this power more. We're going to go a little further now."

"77. 76. 75. We've been through an adventure or two together, but this is more than I've ever asked you to do for me. I'm really grateful for your willingness to do this, and I promise I won't let you down. 74. 73. 72. 71–"

I jumped a little bit as short waves of blue magic pulsed out from under my hand, under her skin. I could start to feel a part of myself entering her... and some ethereal part of her being sucked into me.

I swallowed hard.

"70. 69." I resisted the urge to whisper 'nice.' "68..."

"...51. 50." I slowly lifted my hand from her head. I was shaking a little bit all over. "Okay. Okay. I want to take this moment to pause and examine where we're at. A part of my magic has... clearly entered you, suffused your mind. I want you to take stock of how you feel, how this process has affected you. If– If– If this is getting uncomfortable, if there have been any unexpected, unwanted side effects, I want you to give me a signal."

Spitfire was quiet for a really long-feeling moment. I vibrated with tension.

She shook her head from side to side.

"No?" I asked. "You don't want to continue with the trance?"

She shook again.

"N-No, you do want to go on? You don't have any issues with how it's gone so far?"

A faint, almost smug smile graced Spitfire's lips, and she nodded. I almost got the sense that she was daring me, like I was the one undergoing a mind-altering trance.

"Alllllright then." I put my hand back on her forehead, and the gentle blue glow returned. "We return to the countdown. My magic will continue to drive you deeper down until you have entered the most perfect trance possible. 49. Getting deeper, calmer, more relaxed, more focused. 48. 47..."

"26. 25. Going past merely the conscious mind, or even the subconscious mind. I have total control over those. Now we're diving deep into the unconscious, the primal mind. At the core of who you are. There are certain things that are protected there, at the very center of your being – the magical essence of your cutie mark, and the most fundamental nature of your personality. Even my magic will find it next to impossible to break that core, and I have no intention of trying. But everything else, every layer above... My magic will unlock the full potential of your mind and turn it into a playground, a plaything. And all the while, all you'll have to do is be totally focused and relaxed, taking a most pleasant vacation from all that troubles you. 24. 23. 22. 21. 20..."

My hand was magically pulsing with every count now. I was clammy and parched and feeling oddly drained. "Four. Closer still. Closer to complete control, complete obedience, complete relaxation. Three. You've done perfectly; following my voice deeper down into trance has become beyond second-nature to you; you do it automatically, without hesitation, with eagerness even."

I switched hands, reached for the near-empty pitcher of ice-water, and poured the rest of it directly into my mouth. It hardly helped.

"Two," I gasped out. "When this is complete..." I had to be confident. This only worked because Spitfire's mind believed it worked, and my magic strengthened the perceptions that aligned with that. "When this is complete, Spitfire, you will be my first total thrall. My wishes will be your commands. My words will be your reality. And your reward will be comfort and bliss."

Just one word left. I almost couldn't force it out of my throat.

"One."

There was a final buzzing pulse through my hand, passing through my skin and hers, and a wave of blue magic swept down Spitfire's nude body from the tips of her ears to the bottom of her hooves. I jerked my hand back and clasped it in the other, watching Spitfire's reaction very carefully.

She didn't move or make any sort of stir. She just kept up the same regular breathing as before.

Meanwhile, I rapidly descended into full silent freakout mode. Some higher process in my brain drew a parallel to how I felt in the first few hours of my new lease on life, between my encounters with the flower trio, Twilight Sparkle at the hayburger joint, and Derpy. That same higher process wondered if I'd made any progress at all since then. But the key thing about the fear of absolute power is what you don't know. It's so difficult to understand the scope of what you have – whether it really is absolute, whether you must handle with care lest you break it, what consequences await should you embrace it. Your brain scrambles to produce a report based on what little evidence you have. Somehow, by plumbing this new depth, I was putting myself through that all over again.

Not to mention the years of mind control erotica flashing through my mind at the same time. All the half-remembered hypnosis fantasies I'd read and fapped to on the internet, all at once. Most of them more manipulative and abusive than I was willing to enact in real life. But I didn't want to abandon all this buildup for nothing. I didn't want to chicken out. Spitfire had come to me for pleasure and relaxation, yes, but also for an experience that, currently, no one else could give her. She'd practically goaded me on while halfway into this super-trance. So how could I reconcile that with an aspect of my fap fantasies?

While I freaked out, Spitfire just kept breathing.

I pressed my fingers hard against my temple. Best place to start is research and information, I thought to myself. "Spitfire," I said aloud.

She didn't respond, but her nearest ear twitched.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself. "I'm going to ask you some questions about your current experience, and I need you to answer them plainly and honestly for me." Spitfire's head dipped a little bit – another nod, I hoped. "How does this feel for you, right now?"

Spitfire breathed for another couple of cycles, and then half-whispered, "Like... my head is..."

"You can speak up," I interrupted her. "You can raise your voice without interrupting your trance." At least I assumed so, considering this was a magical trance and all.

Spitfire nodded again and resumed, closer to normal speaking volume. "Like my brain is encased in cool water," she intoned at a rather lackadaisical pace. "And every so often, there's a wave that caresses me from head to toe. Nothing else but your voice. I barely feel my own body."

I was mildly alarmed. "Does that bother you?"

Her head shook slightly. "No."

A worst-case scenario jumped into my head. "Let's say, purely hypothetically speaking, a monster burst through the nearby wall. Would you be able to break out of trance yourself and deal with it?"

It took about three inhale-exhale cycles for Spitfire to respond again. "Yes. I might find it kind of jarring. But I can wake up from this, if I need to. Because I know that's what you'd want me to do."

The last part struck me. Even at this level, just like on the surface level of the Normal, this power didn't erase the subject's common sense, nor their grasp of context and nuance. Of course Spitfire could break out of this is she really, really, really needed to – this whole process was based on trusting each other not to be completely fucking stupid about this. That didn't make the question any less worth asking, but the answer made total sense in hindsight.

"Thank you for that answer, Spitfire," I replied, not sure what else to say. "How about we try getting you to move while you're in trance. At your own pace, I want you to sit up and turn to face me."

With a bit of a groan from her throat, Spitfire lifted her upper body from the comfortable sheets and pillows, then lazily swung her legs around so that they were dangling off the side. Her hands kept her body upright by holding onto the edge of the bed, and her head hung sleepily.

Here was the real test, in my mind. "Carefully now – open your eyes and look at me."

Her eyelids fluttered for a moment as they carefully let in tiny bits of light. Then her head rose up. Her big orange pony eyes looked directly into my own. The pupils were smaller and more contracted than I had expected, giving her an unnervingly focused expression. Most striking of all, at the outer edges of her irises, there were faint hints of magical blue coloration haloing her natural orange.

I couldn't hold back a quiet "Woah." I looked down at my right hand and put the other one on my chest. I had noticed it a little bit before, but I was getting a fraction of that 'hole in the chest' feeling I'd felt back when I'd fizzled out my reserves of magic trying to modify my own aura. (Which I couldn't believe was only two days ago.) I wasn't feeling that as bad now, but I was maybe... 20 to 30 percent of the way there?

So at my current level, putting a willing pony so completely under my hypnotic spell that their freaking eyes start to turn blue... takes up about a third of my magic. Great. What wonderful data to have.

"You don't have to keep looking at me now," I said nervously. "Just let your neck and eyelids rest at a natural state."

Spitfire's head drooped once more. She was still breathing peacefully. I wasn't sure whether to find the steady, unflappable rhythm calming or unnatural.

Well, I had information that Spitfire could speak, move, and look around without breaking her super-deep trance. Now what? I was still left with the question of what to do with her. I needed to relax her, but she also expected a few orgasms out of it. But I didn't want to get too sexually involved myself, because I was supposed to be saving myself for Derpy later tonight!

A hundred shards of a hundred depraved fantasies flashed behind my eyes. Turning her into my sex slave. Turning her into my maid. A robot. A schoolgirl. A sexy instructor. A naughty 'daddy's girl.' A different made-up character entirely. Turning her own body against her. Making her obsessed with my cock. Making her crave my cock in her mouth. Making her beg to be fucked in the ass. Convincing her she had clothes on when she was naked. Convincing her nothing was unusual while she absentmindedly strokes my dick with her hand. Any number of more complex roleplaying scenarios. Or doing none of the above and just using her body as my personal life-sized grope-doll while she was helplessly entranced.

I shook my head vigorously and nearly smacked myself on the cheek. All of that could come later, with more thoughtful preparation and maybe different partners. I had to focus on the task at hand. Keep it simple.

"Alright, Spitfire," I began again. "I have two very important instructions for you. You will listen very closely and accept them into yourself."

Spitfire's head nodded once more. I had kept worrying that she might doze off or something in the moments where I was silently freaking out, but no, she had been waiting patiently the whole time. Again, it landed somewhere in the middle of heartwarming and bizarre.

"First off, we're going to establish a signal, an easy way for you to return to this level of trance whenever we're both ready and willing. I will place my hand on your forehead and say the words, 'Deepest. Trance. Ever.' Just like that. Those words will cast my magic into your mind and trigger you into this trance beyond trance, even all the way from full alert wakefulness. Okay? So I know you understand, repeat this instruction back to me."

"I will..." she mumbled quietly. Then she seemed to remember my request to speak up and restarted. "I will return to this level of trance when you put your hand on my forehead and say the words 'Deepest, Trance, Ever.' As long as we're both ready and willing. I will go all the way down even if I'm fully awake."

"Good, very good. Now the second instruction. I am going to describe something that will happen when you wake up, starting from then and ending the moment you leave this room. When you wake up, you will still feel floaty and totally relaxed, like you're kind of half in trance but not. Nothing will bother you, nothing will trouble you. All you'll have to do is kick back, relax, and chat. On top of that, the touch of my hands will have a special effect on you: Wherever I touch on your body, no matter where it is, you'll feel a spreading tingling sensation and sexual pleasure. Even if it's your elbow, or your ears, or your belly. Wherever my hands touch, you'll feel spreading, tingling pleasure. Repeat all that back to me."

"When I wake up," she responded without missing a beat, "I'll still feel almost as relaxed as I am in trance. Nothing will bother me. I won't feel the need to do anything else. Until I leave the room. When I wake up, your hands will feel very good and tingling on my skin, no matter where you touch. Until I leave the room."

"Very good, Spitfire. I want you to lay back down on the bed now."

Spitfire did so, almost automatically. I briefly felt the intoxication of my power over her body wash over me.

I scooted a little closer to the bed and put my hand on her forehead again. "Okay, Spitfire. It's time to wake up... sort of. Everything I told you in trance will remain true, but it's time to come out of it and enjoy the effects. I'm going to count from 1 to 15. From 1 to 10, we'll slowly bring my magic out of you and return to a normal level of natural trance. From 11 to 15, you'll return from trance to wakefulness, albeit a very relaxed and easygoing wakefulness. Alright? One."

In my palms, I felt the beginnings of an ethereal flow through my skin.

"My magic is slowly retreating from your mind. It felt nice while it lasted, but it would be irresponsible to make it last forever. But it seemed like you enjoyed it, and I'm looking forward to what we can do with it in the future. We have that trigger now, so we can return again the next time you feel like it. Two."

After ten, I had lifted my hand from her head for the rest of the awakening. "Fourteen, waking up, feeling rested and relaxed. And... fifteen. Welcome back, Spitfire."

The nude Wonderbolt captain yawned, stretched, and rubbed her eyes. "That... That was a doozy, Hypnodude. Even for you. You sure you brought me all the way out? I still feel..." She yawned again and shimmied her shoulders into the bedding, as if burrowing into the comfortable mattress. "...really just... chill."

"That was the idea," I remarked, rubbing the palm of my right hand with my fingers. Magically speaking, I still felt a little bit drained, but most of that 'hole in my chest' feeling had disappeared. Whatever magic I'd spent putting her in that trance, I seemed to have gotten the lion's share of it back. Good to know. "Don't you remember the instructions I gave you?"

"Sorta," she groaned. "I was kind of on automatic." She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. "I have to think about it really hard to remember the gist of what you said. You put it really deep in there, I feel like." She shuddered a little. "If you'd told me to forget about something... I'm not sure I'd want to find it."

"Well, I didn't do that. Kinda didn't want to do anything crazy on our first outing."

Spitfire playfully scoffed. "Wuss." She widened her legs and gently rubbed around her pussy, not even caring that I was watching. Her fingers came up slightly moistened with sweat and lubrication, and I noticed the sweet smell of her arousal now reaching my nostrils.

"You enjoyed that, huh?" I asked.

"A little bit," she muttered back, lazily tilting her head at me. "There's something... I dunno, exciting about all this. Not even always the sexy kind of exciting. It's like extreme stunt flying for the mind, if that makes any sense."

"Nah, I get it." Then I reached out and gently touched her upper arm.

Spitfire's eyes widened quickly. "Woah. Woahhh." What little tension was stored up in her arm disappeared, leaving it limp at her side. Her breathing deepened, her gaze unfocused, and her cheeks began to flush. "Holy... How in the..."

I nearly licked my lips in satisfaction. The suggestion seemed to be working perfectly. "What's up, Spitfire?"

"Y-You fucking know what– Ohhh." Spitfire squirmed where she lay as dual signals of pleasure and relief waged war in her brain. "How the fuck... does that even work...?"

Good question, I thought. There was no way an amateur hypnotist on his second outing was capable of this, even with the most susceptible of subjects. This had to be some of my magic's doing. Sure, it was all in her mind, but that mind had just been touched in a very direct way by a very powerful force. Really, what wasn't possible?

I pulled my hand back, and she nearly gasped in release. Her other arm reached over to rub the spot I'd been touching. "It still tingles– No, wait, there it goes. Fuck." She did her best to glare up at me, blushing hard. "That's what you did to me? While I was under?"

For a moment, I had to wonder at this faux defiance she was showing. Hadn't I told her to be totally relaxed and unbothered? Perhaps hers was the kind of personality that found banter and competition relaxing too.

I put on a grin. "And?" I stood up and took off my robe, leaving me only in my underwear. I walked around to the other side of the bed, saying, "I figured, after such a long, hard day, I didn't want to make you do anything other than lay there..." I climbed onto the bed, settling my body besides hers. "...and submit to the gentle caresses of my magic hands."

"You fucker," she grumbled, but there was no bite in her voice. Nonetheless, she scooted her toned body next to mine, close enough that we were sharing each other's body heat. I placed my hand on her belly and rubbed up and down, causing her to groan and arch her body against mine. "Dammit," she gasped, "that feels weird, but... Ahhhhhh...!"

To someone like me, so sexually insecure that my partner's pleasure was a validation, making her moan aloud was music to my ears. I reached my other arm under her pillow, holding her tightly so that both my hands had free reign over her athletic body.

I pulled back just a little bit so I could zero in on the two perfect handfuls that were her perky F-cup breasts. She saw where my eyes and my hands were headed and muttered, "Of course you– NNNH!" The second my fingers began to explore her soft flesh, her body reacted with exaggerated pleasure. The suggestion had an increased effect on her erogenous zones, no doubt. Her legs twitched, one knee raising reflexively. Her nipples, already a little bit firmed up, stiffened with fascinating speed. I could see with my naked eyes how the buds engorged as her body prepared for more sensations.

Internally, I hesitated at how into this I was. Was there something sick about how I craved this level of power over another's body? The ability to create ecstasy with the laziest of touches, and thus render them helpless and loyal?

Then again, this was Spitfire. She'd probably punch me if I stopped everything now to have a philosophical debate.

I ran my hands up and around her full, perky tits, caressing them like they were priceless artifacts. I teased her by avoiding her nipples for a while, and I got to watch them throb, full and flush with need. At the height of her squirming against me, I went in with both hands, wrapping my fingers around the areolae, and gently squeezed those rosy tips with my fingers. Spitfire cried out, "Fuck!" and bucked her hips, and dragged her heels across the blankets.

A few moments later, there was a desperate hand digging through the front of my underwear, grasping for my chubbed cock and furiously rubbing it. I grinned a little wider. "Trying to turn things around?"

"Seems... only fair..." Spitfire gasped out.

I retaliated by dragging one of my hands across her belly, inching closer to her marehood, but stopping just before I was in reach. "Well, you're welcome to," I said calmly despite her frantic handjob, "though I am trying to save myself for a date with Derpy. Now that the cure's in and it's Derpy's last full day in Canterlot..."

The hand down my underwear stopped. "Shit... really?"

"Honest truth."

"So... you don't want me to jack you off in retaliation?"

I chuckled deep in my chest. "It's tempting. But maybe I should make this all about you, hmmm? You came in so frazzled..." Without warning, I struck. My hand, which Spitfire was hypnotized to be extra sensitive to, found its way down between her legs and cupped her engorged petals.

Spitfire's whole body froze up, coiling like a spring.

I leaned up to her pony ear and, in the same low and even tone I used for the hypnosis, uttered, "Just let the pleasure wash over you. Relax. Let your body do what it wants." At the end of my command, I inserted my middle finger between her lower lips.

"Uu-uuuuh...!" The captain's eyes rolled up a little bit and her mouth hung open, robbing her ability to enunciate. Her whole torso undulated before her hips bucked against my hand. Her pussy squeezed around my finger like a cock and soaked it over and over again. Her juices seeped out and pooled between her thighs, staining the bed. Her body twitched in my arms, but she stayed obedient and simply let it happen.

I finally pulled my hand away, and she gasped in relief at being allowed a break from the pleasure of touch. But I rested that hand on her thigh nearby, making sure that sensation wasn't too far away.

My eyes glanced over at the clock. Even with the hypnosis and this enhanced fingerbanging session, I still had about an hour and change before I was expected in front of the palace for my big date tonight.

"What was that you said?" I asked innocently, sporting a cat-like smile. "About five orgasms oughta help?"

Spitfire whimpered.

My impatient hands went about their devil's work all over again.

Author's Notes:

It wouldn't be until a couple of weeks later that I'd think to ask about what brought her to my room in the first place.

"Wait, that thing? Oh, hell... Alright, might as well tell ya. I had to run my, er, sexual relief policy proposal past this oversight committee for the Wonderbolts. And let's just say there are some really old crotchety farts on that panel. We were talking about risks, and... Fuck, I told ya this doesn't even bear repeating. Alright, you ready? This crotchety old stallion at the head of the panel, my boss, basically a stallion I can't really talk back to, while we're having a serious discussion about the risks involved when we let everypony have casual sex, has the gall to ask this fucking question... 'What if a mare scoops up some excess semen off the locker room floor, stuffs it into her vag', gets pregnant, and tries to scam one of the male members of the team using the baby?'"

"...Oh God," was all I could say.

"RIGHT?! What the actual fuck?! And I can't just tell him, 'No, flap off you clueless shit, that's disgusting' – I have to actually play along and tell him 'Yes sir we'll watch out for that' – as if any mare wants to imagine shoveling dirty locker-room-floor spooge into her– RRRRGH!"

"Wow."

"Doesn't that make YOU want to hop into trance and forget the whole world for a while?!"

"A little bit. I mean, after the Normal, I never want my mind tampered with ever again, but yeah. Just a little bit."