The Blue Viper Files Part 1 [Femdom] [MF] [Hypnosis] [BDSM]

**Chapter 1: Malen’kiy**

**Ben**

Ben made sure the door was locked before he sat down at his computer. Down the hall, he heard Betsy getting ready for bed. He didn’t want to open the files until he knew she was asleep, so he wasted some time checking his email and pretending to work as he told her he was going to do.

Unfortunately, work email had the exact opposite effect on Ben that the files would. Everything was labelled as urgent or immediate. They wanted him to respond tonight or before work in the morning. Even when he wasn’t at work, he was working these days. You couldn’t get a moment of peace anymore. He could just imagine his phone vibrating in his bedroom with texts and more emails before court the next day.

The stress of his job is what brought Ben to hypnosis in the first place. He started off with listening to ASMR videos to help him fall asleep at night. He heard a podcast talking about it, and when he checked it out, he immediately got the tingles that helped him zone out and fall asleep. Not long after a few hundred videos, he found that he preferred hypnosis roleplays. In the comments, people always talked about how this didn’t really trance them, but it made them feel tingles.

That’s how it started: YouTube comments. It was innocent and harmless. He needed to sleep; he was stressed. He worked eighty hours a week and the work followed him wherever he went. He worked as an assistant district attorney trying to put murderers and rapists behind bars despite eight metric tons of red tape. Meanwhile, he got to see Betsy less and less. He never thought he’d spend hours in his office at night, searching for new hypnosis files, listening to trances or staring into spirals all in a desperate attempt to turn off his mind and stop all the noise and pressure pushing down on him.

After his inbox had sufficiently depressed him, Ben started to scroll through his library of hypnosis files. He had over two hundred at this point, and he’d listened to each almost a dozen times. He had a few specialized playlists set up for whatever particular mood he was in: “Bad Day,” “Panic Attack,” “Deep Sleep,” and his personal favorite, “Good Boy.”

Everything on the internet can be used for sex, and hypnosis is no exception. There were plenty of people out there that got off on being tranced, that were turned on by the mere idea of being under someone else’s control. Ben did enjoy a trance that had sexual overtones to it. He liked when a file told him to get hard and to feel his body immediately obey the request. He liked the soft whispering of a woman in his ears. He felt that he came back to trance each night like most men came back to porn, but he didn’t want some hypnotist putting him under and having their way with his body. That felt like a step too far. As long as it was just voices and spirals, just videos, it didn’t feel like cheating. Hell, he wasn’t even looking at naked women alone in his office at night. That’s better than most guys. Maybe he deserved a medal.

Ben took a deep breath and opened the “Good Boy” playlist. It was made after the second anniversary of his sexless existence. He married Betsy ten years ago, while he was in law school, but once he started working, they rarely saw each other. When they did see each other, he was too exhausted to initiate, and that was never Betsy’s strong suit. Betsy was raised by a Southern Baptist minister. She had been taught her whole life that sex was a duty, that sex was naughty, and that her sex drive was dangerous. He didn’t blame her for the distance. He worked late and early. They were ships in the night, and he needed some release, some way to distract himself and de-stress. After two years without any sex, Ben was fed up with his right hand and found a hypnosis file that could give him a touchless orgasm, his new favorite way to cum.

Ben put on his huge headphones and started the first file in the playlist. He set it up so that he would first relax and ease into a slight trance, then enter a highly suggestible state, then another file with women moaning would get him worked up, and finally, a stern hypnodomme would get him to cum without touching himself.

Ben sighed as the familiar music started in the background. As always, he imagined pink light swirling around him, pulsing and bending just out of his reach, just at the edge of his vision. The rest of the world was dark, and as the hypnotist’s voice started, he forgot all about the case he had in court tomorrow. He forgot about the anxiety that he wasn’t being the husband Betsy deserved. He forgot about the building ache he felt in his chest after climbing a set of stairs. He forgot about everything. For a few perfect moments, there was only the hypnotist’s voice, the soft music, the pink lights in his mind, and then nothing as he fell into a trance.

“Hun?” Betsy’s voice came just outside the door. “Hun?”

Ben opened his eyes. He knew he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong, but he couldn’t help feeling like he’d been caught.

“Hun? You in there?”

“You need something, babe?” he asked.

“I’m going to bed,” said Betsy.

“Yeah, okay.”

“You going to be up late?”

“Yeah,” said Ben. “I’ve got a lot to prep. Got court tomorrow.” Any mention of court tended to silence Betsy. She didn’t want to give off any aura of disapproval for how much he worked.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Ben put away his headphones and clicked out of his files. He pulled up some documents he had been working on earlier. “Just work in here.”

Betsy opened the door and stepped in. She was gorgeous, that much should be said. Ben smiled despite himself. She always made him smile. She had curly brown hair that she put up when she went to sleep. She had a simple blue nightgown that made her look girlish despite being in her thirties. Even with no makeup, at her point of trying her least to be attractive, her eyes still got him. They were bright blue, sometimes so bright they almost looked white. They never failed to catch his attention or take his breath away.

She crossed the room quickly and gave him a light kiss. Ben almost blushed. “Just wanted a kiss goodnight,” she said.

“Absolutely,” he said, his smile widening.

“K. G’night,” said Betsy. She turned and slipped out of the room like a breeze.

“Goodnight,” said Ben. He hesitated to start the file over again. There was a sting of guilt. He knew that if he followed Betsy into their bedroom and made a move, she’d deny him. She’d have a headache or be too tired. She’d remind him of the work he should be doing, and that would kill his mood. No, he wanted to get off, but when he pulled up his playlist, he saw “Good boy” and an audio file of women moaning. What would Betsy say if she saw this? He sighed to himself and opened up his browser in incognito, looking for some fresh files.

The trick with most hypnodommes is that they’re con-men or women. They were like findommes from what he could tell, but with audio files instead of nude selfies. They offered a small peak to desperate masses and charged them extravagant amounts. Twice Ben had paid for a private session with a hypnodomme. Each time he was disappointed. From what he could tell from his research, most real hypnotists were frustrated or ashamed of the hypnodommes out there. They had no technique. They didn’t truly understand the mind. Ben could see how a good dose of wishful thinking could help you think you were under their spell, but he had no idea how an intelligent person could believe these dommes were rewriting their personalities or making them into sex slaves.

He had to sort through half a dozen porn sites and a dozen more porn videos before the hypnosis part of his search became relevant. As he scrolled, he was careful to click on anything lest he get a virus. Most of the sites looked trashy, and that was a red flag for him. If you couldn’t maintain a polished website in the twenty-first century, he wasn’t going to trust you, especially with his credit card information.

Finally, he stumbled across the first site that looked professional: The Blue Viper Files. The background was dark, and the font was a bright electric blue, like a poisonous frog. The woman on the cover was wearing a black domino mask, the kind just around the yes, but he could see her thick black hair and clear blue eyes. Her skin was pale, looking like ice or thick paper, and her neck was thin and adorned with a black lace choker. She was smirking, her lips tugged to the right, and she held a single finger up to silence the viewer. Ben was drawn to her immediately, his eyes darting back and forth from her deep eyes, accentuated by the mask, and her smile, amused to find him here.

He read through her information. She was Madame Sasha, and she had been practicing hypnosis for fifteen years. Over the past five she began to bring hypnosis into the bedroom and monetize her skills for the public. She had a scaling price system: streaming audio files, downloadable files, streaming videos, downloadable videos, and then live sessions over webcam. All over the webpage, a long bright blue viper slithered over the page, following his cursor wherever his mouse tracked. It almost lit up with motion when he hovered over the live session, coiling and hissing. Obviously, she preferred he pay for the most expensive product, a typical hypnodomme trying to make cash for something that could be pirated and re-watched without a dime.

And yet Ben didn’t hesitate as he went to click for a live session. A new window opened up:

*“Sorry, but Madame Sasha is not available for a live session at this time.”*

Ben sighed. Of course. With a name like that, she was probably in Russia or some Eastern European country. It was like five a.m. there now. He’d have to wait until the morning if he wanted a live session with her.

Ben’s mind cleared, and he appreciated not dropping two hundred dollars for a thirty minute conversation with a stranger. He should test the product before he goes all in. That makes sense. It wasn’t too much to stream a video at least. He clicked that service and quickly put it in his credit card information, now more flustered and turned on than in the mood for a lengthy trance.

Ben double-checked that the door was locked. He made sure his headphones were plugged in and secure. He grabbed a tissue box and lube, then unzipped his pants and left them bunched up around his waist. Finally ready, he clicked for the video to start.

Madame Sasha was sitting in the middle of an all-black room. It looked like a BDSM dungeon, but the angle was too close up for Ben to be sure. She appeared to be sitting, and she was in the same domino mask and choker from her frontpage. Her thick black hair draped over and behind her shoulders, which were bare. A black latex tube top barely contained her tits, and revealed her tight stomach and thin, bare arms. She had a tattoo sleeve on her right arm, covered in different words that Ben couldn’t make out at this angle and what looked like bright blue lightning winding between all of them. Ben could also see the end of some words peeking out from beneath her top over her breast and along her stomach, but he couldn’t read them with her clothes on.

Hopefully, that would change soon.

“Hello,” said Madame Sasha. Her voice was accented, again, maybe Russian or Eastern European, but not thick. Her voice was soft, almost sweet. Ben found himself smiling at the sound of it. He didn’t expect the woman in latex and a mask to sound so cute.

Almost in reply, Madame Sasha smirked back, the same cold and amused smirk from her picture on the front page.

“Today, I am going to teach you how to obey Madame Sasha.” Ben rolled his eyes. He didn’t care for dommes referring to themselves in the third person. “I am not like other dommes in this business. I will not ask you to stroke yourself. I will not tell you to cum. You may beg. You may talk to your screen or send me emails begging for it, but you will never hear that command from me.”

Ben sat up in his seat, suddenly interested. Many dommes promised to make their subs whimpering messes, but he never heard a salesperson outright say that the customer will not get what he or she wants.

“I also do not simply mumble some mumbo jumbo in hopes that you will cum all over yourself. You are here because you want a change. You are here because you are tired. You are here because your life feels out of control, and you will pay me to take control of your life. That is our business here. It is not the business of the mind, but the business of control. I will take that from you, and you will thank me.”

Ben’s cock twitched. She was sure of herself, poised, confident, smooth, amused, and powerful. She didn’t care if Ben liked what he got. She already had his money. She cared about taking control as much as Ben cared about giving it up. That was what he wanted. It was all he wanted.

“Finally, I do not deal in torture or humiliation. I am not here to destroy you, precious one. That would be bad for business, no? I am here to give you an object of desire, of affection, of devotion, but more importantly,” Madame Sasha pulled down her tube top on her left side, revealing the word “Love” tattooed in a lacy red lettering over her left breast. “Love,” she said. “Take a good look now. Soon you will want to see this more than anything in the world.”

Ben felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t look at her breast or nipple. He didn’t care at all that this woman was exposing herself to him. She was right. All he cared about was the word and what it meant. Love. He read it, and Betsy flashed to his mind for a moment, but only a moment as he looked again into Madame Sasha’s sharp blue eyes.

“This is what I have to offer.” Sasha traced her fingers over the tattoo, teasing her own skin. “This is what you are paying for. You will love me, that much is obvious, but if you give up control, if you listen, and if you obey, you will be loved by me. That is where we will start. All healthy relationships are built on love, and Madame Sasha is no different.”

Sasha covered her breast with her tube top again. “I want you to close your eyes,” she commanded, and Ben obeyed immediately.

“I want you envision the word in your mind. Envision Madame Sasha’s love burning in your mind.” Ben obeyed, the deep red word hovering in his mind’s eye directly in front of him over deep blackness. “Think about all the things you have done to get love in this world.”

Ben imagined getting good grades in school and his parents being proud of him. He imagined going to church Sunday after Sunday to get Betsy’s attention. He imagined graduating from law school and the proud look on the face of his wife and parents. He imagined being taken out to dinner by his friends when he won his first case.

“You feel the weight of that, don’t you?” asked Sasha. “You have done so much work to feel loved. It must be overwhelming, doing all that just to feel the smallest bit of love from someone else.”

Ben felt his shoulders sink. His eyebrows furrowed and he grunted. He knew what he had done, and what had it got him? Love? Yes. He saw Betsy’s face in his mind. He loved her. She loved him. Of course, she did. But what about the rest of the world? Was he thanked for getting criminals off the street? No. Did anyone care what an assistant district attorney did? No.

“And all I ask you to do is the one thing you want to do. You want to give up control, and I want to take it. I will take all that stress from you. I will lift the world off your shoulders. With me, there is no work. There are no bills. There are no deadlines. There is no fear in perfect love.”

Ben saw the red word flash in his mind. He could see the hallucinatory word superimposed on her top, right where the real word hid beneath the surface.

“Give me control of you, of your will, of your body, of your life, and you will have my love.” The word flashed again in Ben’s eye, above her black tube top.

Sasha gave a slight laugh. “You should thank me for taking control of you. Go ahead, thank me now.” Sasha sat still. It was then that Ben realized it was a video. Sasha wasn’t really there, speaking to him. She wasn’t looking at him, though it felt as though her eyes tore through him. This was pre-recorded. Everyone saw this. Ben wasn’t special to her.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

A bright electric blue, almost teal, viper began to coil up and around Sasha’s body as she sat still. Sasha raised her right hand, and the snake followed it, wrapping around her arm to her hand.

“This is Sinja,” she said. “She is dearest to my heart. If you want my love, you must first come to adore what I love. First is Sinja.” The snake began to slither further down Sasha’s arm and then off of her hand, but instead of falling, the snake seemed to float, almost slithering over the camera on Ben’s screen.

“Do you want to know my love?” asked Sasha.

“Yes,” whispered Ben.

“Then follow Sinja with your eyes. Learn to love her. Love her body, her scales, her bright and dangerous color. Love her strength and venom. Love that she is a huntress. Love that she is powerful. Love that she is lethal. Love that, and you will come to understand me. As you understand me, you may know my love.”

The word flashed again in Ben’s mind, but it didn’t draw his eyes. He kept his gaze locked on Sinja. Ben didn’t personally like snakes, but he couldn’t help but see what Sasha saw in the creature. There was an allure to its color and a thrill of panic in Ben’s chest when the tongue darted out, when he remembered its fangs and its speed. This was not a sexual creature. It was a killer.

Still, Ben obeyed. He did not let his eyes leave the snake. It slithered in spirals and waves over his screen. The physics of it were impossible, but Ben wasn’t asked to think. He was asked to watch, and Ben obeyed. He obeyed as his pulse raced when he thought the snake may even be able to come out of the screen into his office. He obeyed as the word “love” flashed before his vision. He obeyed as his body relaxed, seeming to freeze in place except for his eyes as they darted to keep up with Sinja. He obeyed as Madame Sasha spoke, and no concentration or logic could keep the words from sinking into Ben.

“You are so lucky,” said Sasha. “So lucky to have someone like me take control of you. To love you. You are so very lucky. To me, you are a little snack, a small mouse between my jaws. I could have anyone. I could do anything. And you? All you want in the world is to lose control and be loved for it, and you found it in me. How lucky are you?”

“So lucky,” whispered Ben, but he kept his eyes on Sinja.

“Lucky but not fortunate, not yet. Fortune favors the bold they say. Fortune is for those that take risks, for those that dare. And in Madame Sasha’s dungeon, fortune is for those that obey. That is the real question, malen’kiy. Will you obey?”

“Yes.”

“You are lucky, yes?”

“Yes.”

“So lucky.”

“So lucky.”

“Will you obey?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I will obey.”

“You will obey Madame Sasha.”

“I will obey Madame Sasha.”

“Good. Follow Sinja. Follow my love, and you will have my love.”

Ben did his best to follow the snake, and the longer he watched, the slower it went. It spiraled around the screen, over and over, slower and slower, dragging him in, pulling him slowly away from everything, toward nothing until Ben lost sight of Madame Sasha completely. There was no Madame Sasha, only Sinja. Ben would find Madame Sasha when he loved Sinja. When he memorized each detail of Sinja’s body, he would be able to see through the blue viper and find Sasha. She was there, just behind the snake, waiting for Ben to earn her.

As the snake spiraled, Madame Sasha began to speak again. She spoke about how good Ben was, about how good it felt to obey, about how much he needed to obey, and more importantly, how much he needed to let go of control. Once he abandoned control, he would find love. Once he stopped working so hard for love, and let Madame Sasha do all the work, he would find it. He would find love in obedience, for obedience was the absence of control.

Sinja disappeared, and there was only Madame Sasha. She was in the same room, but now Ben could see her whole body. She was sprawled out on a bed, covered in a sheet, but Ben thought she was naked underneath. He prayed she was naked underneath. He didn’t want to see her body. All he wanted was to see the word. He wanted her love, not her breasts.

“Before I go, there is one final lesson for today,” said Sasha. “Look at my body.” Sasha stretched like a cat. Ben could see the points of her nipples through the sheet, but he ignored her command and stared at her breast, looking for the word hidden there.

“My body is my temple, and you will be my priest or priestess. If you want to worship at the temple, you must study. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” whispered Ben.

“You know that this temple houses my love, and one day you will earn the sight of it.” Sasha lifted the sheet, pulling on it, causing it to climb up her legs. Her right leg was free, and as more and more skin was revealed, Ben saw a word written about halfway up her thigh. The camera moved closer, and Ben read the word “Sleep,” written in the same red ink as “Love” on her breast.

“When you read this, you will fall deep into a sleep, malen’kiy. In that sleep, you will remember all my commands in your sleeping mind, but your waking mind will forget everything we do here. Your sleeping mind will be our playground. Who knows? Perhaps you will see more of my temple there.”

Sasha pulled the sheet up further and the word “Obey” in bright red appeared. Sasha giggled and quickly pulled the sheet back down, covering it up.

“But only in your sleeping mind, malen’kiy. That it is where it is safe to worship my temple. If you are good, if you obey, you earn my love, you will worship my body with your waking mind, and then you will be a true acolyte of Madame Sasha. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” whispered Ben, his mouth going dry.

“Good,” cooed Sasha. “Good boy. Now read the word on my temple. Memorize this word. Fix it in your mind. Burn it in as an absolute truth of the universe, as compelling as gravity.”

Ben read the word over and over, trying to memorize the handwriting, the script, the curve of the letters and space between each line. As he stared, Sinja crept over the screen again, obscuring Ben’s vision. He tried to see past her, to see around her, as Sasha slithered and spiraled, but the word was too obscured. This went on for what felt like hours, each moment, Ben felt the word slipping away from him, each moment he tried harder to keep it, to focus on it, to memorize it.

As sleep overtook him, the last thought Ben remembered was the blue viper spiraling over Sasha’s body, over the words, over Ben’s mind.

Once more, Reddit has kept me from posting the full chapter. The rest of it is coming tomorrow.

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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mb40qg/the_blue_viper_files_part_1_femdom_mf_hypnosis