Cleopatra’s Pet

Although he hadn’t visited in over ten years, Aaron remembered well the gentle warmth of the English Summer. The filtered sun breaking through the treetops and terraced buildings of London was certainly a welcome relief from the searing, sauna-like heat of Abu-Dhabi, that he’d gladly escaped when he boarded the Airbus bound for Heathrow a mere seven hours earlier.

Indeed, Aaron felt a sense of “homecoming” as he loaded his suitcase into the rear of the famous black London Cab. Quite an odd sense really, given that he was Australian, and had really only been a temporary resident in the UK, whilst working and living in Surrey for two years as a young graduate in the late 1990’s.

In any event, this one-week break from the stress of corporate life in the Middle East was sorely needed. The trip to London had been arranged at short notice, but the prospect of a few quiet days watching cricket, attending some of the famous horse-racing Carnival at Ascot, and catching up with a few old friends was “just what the doctor ordered”.

This was a well deserved and perfectly innocent trip abroad to de-stress and enjoy some of the pastimes he’d genuinely missed during his stint in Abu Dhabi.

At least that’s what he’d tried to convince himself of  – with no real success.

Instead, Aaron knew that the real reason for the trip was somewhat less innocent. Indeed, his desire to spend time in-person with the woman he knew only as Cleopatra was the real reason for his being here, in the back of a taxi, bound for a hotel near Victoria Station.

It was 11pm when he finally arrived at the (somewhat disappointing) four-star hotel he’d booked online. Nonetheless, jet-lag had kicked in, and for the first time in weeks, sleep came easily.

It was still dark when Aaron awoke. 4am according to the digital clock next to the bed, the digits of which had a rather angry red glow, which tended to illuminate the room, and its gaudy furnishings to a somewhat disturbing degree. A clumsily placed pillow quickly fixed that, and Aaron closed his eyes, in a seemingly futile attempt to get back to sleep.

Nonetheless, in those dark, pre-dawn hours, he did think back on the time he’d spent on-line, talking to Cleopatra – time that she had used to firstly explore, and then perhaps even exploit, Aaron’s long held submissive desires. How exactly she had done it, Aaron wasn’t quite sure – things started out so innocently. But an hour online with Cleopatra seemed to positively fly by …. indeed he remembered only snippets of what had transpired during their various conversations, but those snippets were like a series of imprints burned into his mind.

Imprints that couldn’t possibly be erased.

Imprints that drove him wild with desire.

Imprints of a sculpted, curvaceous woman, clad in figure-hugging PVC, long red nails gently caressing her ample cleavage.

Imprints of an intense, overwhelming need to please this woman, to hear words of praise from those full red lips.


“So you are a hypnotist?”

It was with that seemingly innocuous question, asked many months ago, that Aaron had commenced on the path that now found him in a London hotel room.

Cleopatra was, up until that point, another of the random strangers that he’d happened across on various chat programs – most of whom quickly revealed themselves as lonely individuals, who struggled to maintain a coherent conversation. It took only minutes, however, to realise that this woman dubbed “Cleopatra” was markedly different. Indeed, Aaron quickly found himself desperate to maintain her interest, as each typed response displayed a keen intellect, a rarity in the online chat world.

For some time, they exchanged online text messages, the topic of which tended to wander between a broad range of mostly unrelated matters, including, quite oddly, the potential implications of Aaron’s being left-handed.

Inevitably, however, he’d felt compelled to try and ease the conversation towards hypnosis-related subjects – but the aforementioned (and rather abrupt) question was all he could manage, despite his determination to be subtle in the presence of this obviously well educated, well mannered lady.

At first, the question had elicited no response. Well, none aside from the initial mild sense of panic that Aaron experienced when he realised that his enquiry may have been completely inappropriate. Panic did, however, rapidly turn to intrigue, as an invitation to view Cleopatra’s webcam had eventually appeared in place of any worded reply, followed promptly thereafter by an invitation to invoke a voice chat.

Despite the dim lighting, it was evident at first sight that she was indeed an attractive woman. Dark skinned, with long dark hair, and an obviously athletic build – she was evidently the type of woman who could break a million hearts should she so desire.

A broad smile crossed Cleopatra’s lovely face.

“And why would you think that?”

That particular question, put forth in a wonderfully British accent, left Aaron a little flummoxed. Why did he suspect she had hypnotic skills? Luckily, she saved him from the embarrassment of having to provide a lame response.

“I’m more interested in psychology Aaron – I love the way a man’s mind works“.

It was, to Aaron’s way of thinking, a disappointing response. Psychology was surely the domain of bow-tie wearing professors, rather than beautiful ladies at the other end of an internet link. His hopes of being hypnotised by this well-spoken, gorgeous woman evaporated. But still, it was a pleasure just to look upon her, and a discussion regarding psychology was well worth it, if it meant maintaining voice and visual contact with this lovely woman.

“I actually read an interesting paper just recently”, she stated, her slender hand gently brushing a strand of jet-black hair from her eyes, “it proved that the human mind can only concentrate on a relatively small number of things at once – we’re certainly not very skilled multi-taskers, no matter what we think”.

That statement actually piqued Aarons interest – indeed, how many things could one concentrate on at once? It was something he’d never thought to consider, despite often feeling completely overloaded and stressed due to the multitude of issues that needed to be dealt with simultaneously each and every working day.

“Turns out” Cleopatra began, her voice taking on a rather demure, soothing tone, “that the typical human mind can only concentrate on 5, plus or minus 2 things at once. I assume you’d like me to show you?”.

A quick glance at the clock indicated that he had roughly an hour before guests were due to arrive, which should be ample time to partake in a little psychological experimentation, so why not?


The angry red digital clock indicated it was 7am – a good sign, as it meant he’d likely nodded off … and was now a mere seven hours away from their arranged meeting. A meeting he’d long tried to imagine. Countless times he’d run through the scenario of knocking on the door of her apartment, the sound of footsteps clicking on the wooden floor, the door slowly swinging open …..

The hours positively dragged by. Aaron perused a few shops, dropped into a Ladbrokes agency to whittle away a few pounds on slow horses, and sipped on a pint of ale whilst watching (with no interest) a lower-division football match on a small television within an even smaller pub. By 2.30, he was beside himself, heart pounding, walking laps of the block on which her building was situated, always careful to walk by on the opposite side of the street, lest he be tempted to bound up the stairs and arrive early – which would certainly displease Cleopatra, who had always stressed the importance of punctuality when they had arranged to meet online.

It was 3 minutes to 3pm. Close enough. Another lap of the block would take 10 minutes, and he couldn’t risk being late.

Up the stone stairs of the neat Victorian-era terrace, to a wooden door, painted a pleasant mid-blue colour. Aaron breathed in, tried to wipe the moisture from his profusely sweating palms, and knocked firmly at the door.

At first, nothing. Aaron wondered if he should knock again. There was no sign of a doorbell. His pulse was racing. Then, a faint sound of movement – which became the sound of footsteps – brisk, decisive footsteps. The sound of a latch being unlocked. The door opened.

She was exactly as he’d remembered from their webcam sessions together. Dark, perfect skin, with long hair tied back neatly, dark flashing eyes, and a bright, welcoming smile. Aaron was, however, somewhat taken aback by her attire. Whereas he’d become accustomed to seeing her in low-cut black PVC – she was instead clad in a simple, checked cotton shift-dress. She was strikingly beautiful, but certainly not taking on the appearance of the dominant “Mistress” that Aaron had long imagined spending time with.

“It’s certainly nice to finally meet you Aaron – I actually wondered if you’d actually arrive!”

“I wouldn’t have missed the chance to see you, Cleopatra” Aaron replied, but wondering now whether or not he’d flown all the way from Abu Dhabi for a chat and a nice cup of tea. She stood aside and extended a hand, gesturing for Aaron to enter.

The interior was, upon initial inspection, typical of that of a young urban professional. A freshly painted entrance hall, off of which was situated a neat, tidy, uncluttered living room, with stylish modern furniture, and a spattering of mostly abstract artwork adorning the walls.

When asked what he’d like to drink, Aaron could only really suggest a glass of water. Anything else would surely be too demanding – and he was a guest in this lovely woman’s home. Whilst Cleopatra busied herself in the kitchen fixing a drink, Aaron composed himself, made himself comfortable on a plush, dark brown lounge and studied his surroundings.

The sight of Cleopatra in such simple, everyday clothing had, he must admit, helped to overcome some of the initial nerves. Despite the fantasy of being greeted by a PVC-clad dominatrix not coming to fruition (and the associated tinge of disappointment), he had, at least succeeded in calming down to the point where conversation seemed plausible. Important, he thought to himself.

Cleopatra re-emerged, carrying a couple of tall glasses of water, ice-cubes making a light tinkling sound as they bounced against the sides of the glass. She sat down opposite Aaron, in a wooden chair, and drew it up within arm’s length of him, handing him a glass of water as she smiled broadly. He couldn’t help but notice once again how beautiful she was – and the temptation to glance down at her toned legs, which were, to his surprise, clad in smooth stockings, was overwhelming.

“So you found my house OK?”

“Oh, yes, it wasn’t too difficult – you gave sound directions”.

“And what do you think so far?”

The question took Aaron aback somewhat. Was she referring to London in general, to the house, or to his initial impression of the lovely Cleopatra herself? To avoid missing the point, Aaron decided that an answer to all three may be prudent.

“Its certainly nice to be out of the Abu Dhabi heat, and into such a nice climate. Your house is great. And you, well, you’re looking lovely. Not quite what I expected, but you are looking gorgeous”. He meant it.

Cleopatra tilted her head slightly to one side – a mischievous expression mingled with mock curiosity on her face.

“May I ask what you were expecting Aaron?”

“I don’t know, ummmm …. something more …… like what you used to wear on web-cam perhaps?”

Her expression shifted slightly – ever so slightly. Less playful. More demure.

“Are you disappointed, Aaron?”

“No, not at all”.

Immediately Aaron knew that his response most likely lacked conviction – but it was too late now.

“Well, in any event”, Cleopatra purred, “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you in the flesh. You’re slightly taller than I expected – just ever so slightly. That’s good though – I like my men tall”.

Perhaps she was joking, perhaps not. So suggestive, and yet so innocent. Aaron grappled with the implications of her statement and what it meant. For the first time, he realised that he didn’t fully appreciate what Cleopatra’s intentions were. Was he here as a friend? Was he here on a date? Was he here for a dominant/submissive role-play session? Or something else? His head began to swim as he struggled to analyse what exactly their arrangements and understandings were. Had he really flown all the way here on a whim, without knowing what to expect?

He found himself stealing a glance down at Cleopatra’s stockinged legs, in an effort to compose himself after her prior statement. Although her dress came nearly down to her knees, her legs were so strong and shapely, so perfectly formed, sheathed as they were in those shimmering stockings.

“Its OK to peek” she smiled. “I know my legs have a certain appeal to the male gender. Go ahead, I don’t mind”.

“Thanks Cleopatra” Aaron stammered – completely on the defensive now. In fact, he was beginning to feel decidedly self-conscious.

“Are you OK?” Cleopatra enquired softly “you seem a little flustered”.

“Yes, I’m fine” Aaron lied “just still a bit stressed after the flight”.

“Mmmmm, I don’t want you to be stressed” Cleopatra observed, leaning in so close, her deep brown eyes making contact with his …. “let me tell you a little about what I expect to happen over the next few days, I’m sure it’ll help you refocus on more ….. pertinent matters”.

“First of all, Aaron my dearest, rest assured, whatever happens over these next few days …. all those deep little secrets and desires that you revealed to me are safe. You are safe. And despite whatever misgivings you may have held, you and I both know that you need to come to me”.

Aaron considered that statement. He actually had no recollection whatsoever as to having told Cleopatra anything about his deepest, darkest secrets or desires. Indeed, he had no recollection about quite a lot of their conversations, other than that their online discussions had always started out with a simple chat about current events in each others’ lives, and ended so amicably – typically just a nice friendly chat about when they might see each other next. He had, however, always found himself incredibly aroused within seconds of her turning on her webcam. A woman with Cleopatra’s beauty, coupled with her propensity towards wearing exotic costumes that highlighted her perfectly formed, natural cleavage, would surely drive any man wild with passion.

It was, Aaron reasoned, for that reason that he felt so pained whenever she’d shut down her webcam. He’d never used drugs – but imagined that the loss of Cleopatra’s webcam to be akin to what an addict must feel as withdrawal symptoms took their toll. The feeling of such intense, unfulfilled arousal – as she left him longing to once again gaze upon such feminine perfection. Indeed, resisting the urge to touch himself in the aftermath of their time together was ultimately pointless. Only through orgasm could he abate the overwhelming degree of arousal that Cleopatra left behind without fail.

And yet, each and every time, as the state of post-orgasmic bliss receded, the inevitable process would begin. Slowly at first, but inexorably, the familiar sensation would take hold. A sensation he could only describe as akin to a slippery satin leash, would begin to slide over and entwine itself around, and into his mind. A soft, seductive, and yet unbreakable leash. A leash that made it impossible to resist logging on, time and time again, in the hope that she would be there, to bring back that sense of otherwise unachievable arousal. Only her words could free him from the slippery satin bonds – and even then only temporarily. Indeed, whilst Aaron knew full well that only time with Cleopatra would free his mind – within a matter of hours after their time together ended, his mind would once again be ensnared by the smooth, slippery satin bonds.

“And so, my eager young boy, I want you to just relax. Remember, you are safe“.

Those words were reassuring. Something about the word “safe” resonated in his mind, soothing the tension, replacing it instead with a feeling of softness.

Her words became a gentle, soft, soothing monotone …. so pleasant to just listen to.

The nervous energy that had pervaded his mind and body since entering Cleopatra’s home began to ebb away, superseded by a lovely, tingling sensation as each word tickled the deepest recesses of his mind.

“Its just you and me here together, Aaron. Nobody else. Nothing for you to do, except relax and let me guide you. Nobody here to judge you. Nobody here to break your focus. Just me, Cleopatra. Just me, Cleopatra, the woman you’ve longed to be with. Me, Cleopatra, the woman you long to be with. Me, Cleopatra, the woman you adore. I, Cleopatra, the woman who makes it so easy for you to remember to forget just what it is that you are trying to remember. Isn’t that right, my dearest Aaron”.

“Yes Cleopa ….”

Sleepy Sensation“.

Aaron’s body went limp, his eyes rolled back in his head, he slumped back on the lounge.

Empty Now“.

Blankness. No thoughts. Just floating existence.


Aaron had no idea how much time had elapsed. He remembered sitting on the lounge, talking to Cleopatra, but surely the jet-lag can’t have been that bad that he would just have fallen asleep in her presence? Either way, he now found himself alone in a largely empty, dimly lit room, save for the single bed he found himself in, an antique wooden wardrobe against the opposite wall, and a long mirror which adorned a wall off to his left. Floral wallpaper adorned the walls, giving the room a feeling of antiquity, which contrasted starkly with the modern features of the room he’d first been shown into.

He sat up, feeling somewhat groggy, but at the same time, contented and relaxed. A feeling that could best be described as “vague”, which was an altogether pleasant state of mind.

His thoughts, limited though they were, drifted back to that initial online session, which he’d incorrectly taken to be a simple psychological experiment. To this day, he recalled the way she had instructed him to slow his breathing, then focus on her smooth, relaxing voice, the feeling of weightlessness in his hands, the relaxation in his shoulders, the slowing of his pulse, …. seven plus or minus two she’d called it ….. and he was up to number six, but all the while thinking that it was a slightly bizarre experiment. It was the seventh step that had changed everything.

“Now Aaron” Cleopatra had purred “let’s try a seventh focus. I want you to concentrate on my hands”.

Her hands gently rose into view. Such lovely, slender, feminine hands, nails painted bright red. They seemed to glide so easily as she caressed the air in front of her chest – fingers moving in a captivating dance, capturing occasional flickers of light. Aaron felt overwhelmed. He’d struggled desperately to focus on seven things at once. It felt so good, and yet so hard. So confusing. His mind going into a sensory overload, his body completely relaxed. The effort mounted. Mind racing. Body limp.

“Now Aaron, think of nothing“. She snapped her fingers. His mind had joined his body in blissful sleep.


Those seemingly distant recollections of their early online time together were broken by the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside. Heels on wooden floorboards, he surmised, thoughts becoming somewhat clearer as his mental faculties returned. The click of heels on floor became louder and sharper, as the distance to the bedroom door decreased.

The moment the door opened, Aaron’s hormones instantly entered the same sort of crazy, uncontrollable overdrive that he hadn’t experienced since his early teen years.

Cleopatra stood in the doorway, clad in a tight black PVC dress, extending to her knees. A zipper at the front was fully closed, revealing little – but the curve of her ample breasts was nonetheless evident beneath the shiny PVC. Knee high black PVC boots, polished to an intense sheen. Hair pulled back tightly. Bright red lips. Large round earrings. A single silver bracelet on her left wrist.

Each slow step Cleopatra took into the room was mesmerizing, the gentle sway of her hips captivating.

“I see you are ready to begin”. It was not a question, but a statement of fact.

Aaron felt his heart pounding relentlessly. The desire to know what was coming next was overwhelming. Surely this was the moment he would look back on for the rest of his life as “the” moment when he experienced pure erotic hypnosis bliss.

“What will I be starting, my Queen?” he enquired.

My Queen – he had said it so naturally, it felt so right – she was in control. How or why this had come about, he had no idea. But it felt so good, he had no desire whatsoever to either question or resist.

“To learn and evolve” Cleopatra purred – a very faint smile passing her otherwise impassive lips.

She reached up slowly, long red nails gently caressing, and then gripping the shiny silver zipper that adorned the black PVC dress. Inch by inch, the zipper slid down, each inch revealing more and more of her captivating bosom. Aaron found it impossible to look away. His manhood rose, then throbbed. All rational thought evaporated. He stood, longing to touch, to feel, to experience.

The zipper paused on its journey. At least he hoped it was a pause. Not a stop. Too soon for the zipper to stop with so much more to be revealed. Cleopatra smiled coyly.

Naked Boy“.

Aaron acted without thought. His clothing fell to the floor as it was peeled away by hands that were no longer his own to control. He stood naked before Cleopatra. His Queen.

Empty Now“.



It was dusk. Aaron could tell from the streetlights outside, whose dominance over the fading sunlight grew more and more pronounced by the minute.

He was naked, in the same room, on the same bed as before – although the door remained open.

Whilst there was no recollection to support the theory, Aaron felt that an orgasm must surely have wracked his body recently, for he felt a faint sense of the familiar post-orgasmic glow combined with a feeling of intense relaxation that he’d not experienced via any other means. A vague sense of frustration came over him as he struggled to recall the events of the past hour or more – a fruitless exercise, although the imagery of Cleopatra in that PVC dress flooded his mind, and with it, the desire to see her again.

He did not have long to wait. Footsteps outside on the wooden floor, followed by the sight of Cleopatra. A sight that took his breath away. Wearing a deep blue satin dress, that clung to every curve of her divine body, and revealed the swell of her goddess-like breasts. A large blue crystal hung between her cleavage, complimented by matching blue crystal earrings.

“I thought we might enjoy a meal together, Aaron, now that you’re refreshed”, Cleopatra stated.

Aaron’s heart raced. The prospect of spending time over dinner with this wonderful woman was exhilarating. He longed to do whatever it took to please her.

“You will find suitable clothes in there” she said, motioning to the wardrobe. “Shower down the hall. Be ready for me in 15 minutes”.

Aaron promptly showered, dried himself, and gathered the clothes provided for him by his wonderful Queen.

A neatly pressed suit, shirt, shiny black shoes. And a single pair of smooth black satin panties. Thinking that perhaps this was an oversight, Aaron considered calling for Cleopatra to enquire about the undergarment provided – but thought better of it. Who was he to question what was provided by his Queen? Indeed, the satin felt wonderful against his skin as he slipped the panties on. It sent a tingle of excitement through his body, the feel of the shiny, feminine fabric against his manhood.

He proceeded downstairs, and found Cleopatra awaiting him – looking every bit the seductress as she stood before a mirror, applying the final touches of lipstick to her full, sensual lips.


The tinkle of piano music in the background, coupled with the soft lighting and small, well spaced tables gave the restaurant a distinct ambience of sophistication and intimacy. Not that Aaron had paid much attention to his surrounds. Instead, his sole focus had been upon the goddess that he was fortunate enough to be escorting to dinner. From the moment that he’d entered the venue, he’d struggled to remember that the waiting-staff were employed to ensure that Cleopatra’s dining needs were catered to. In fact, the compulsion to cater to her every whim had already resulted in a brief interlude with a bemused waiter, who had attempted to assist Cleopatra by pulling her chair out … a task that Aaron was obviously meant to fulfil, and had done so, whilst chiding the waiter in a fashion that was probably far more terse than necessary.

It felt so good to be seated across the table from the dark-skinned temptress. She looked more captivating than could be imagined. So demure, and yet so in-control. Conversation flowed easily, Cleopatra was certainly pleased to talk about her hobbies, her consultancy business, even her past boyfriends, whom she oddly referred to as being “freed”. Aaron hung off every word – indeed he was reluctant to offer much by way of input to their conversation, as any anecdote that he could possibly offer would be so mundane in comparison to the wonderful tales told by Cleopatra. Furthermore, he harboured no desire to interrupt her, as each and every lovely word she spoke sent tingles of pleasure coursing through his utterly captivated mind.

“You don’t appear to be in a talkative mood, my pet?” she enquired quizzically as they finished their main course, the superb quality of which was utterly lost on Aaron.

His body reacted instantly. An immediate sensation of pressure within his groin – coupled with intense arousal. An arousal that became all the more intense as the smooth satin panties rubbed against his swollen cock. He wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed as though a brief look of amusement crossed Cleopatra’s lovely face.

“I’m just enjoying everything you’ve been saying, Cleopatra“. Which was true. And yet the overwhelming arousal and strange pressure in his groin was a little disconcerting, and was showing no immediate sign of subsiding.

“You look a little uncomfortable there … everything is OK I trust … my pet?” She smiled.

Again, the surge of arousal hit. The pressure built. Aaron realised at that moment that he needed to orgasm, to release this pressure.

“Aaron, my pet?”

A third wave of sensation crashed over his body and mind. The pressure reached a crescendo, the arousal completely overwhelming.

Aaron was left with no option. He excused himself abruptly and made a hasty retreat to the men’s room. Each step brought with it an additional sense of need, as the black satin swirled remorselessly around his helplessly erect cock.

He burst into the bathroom, into a stall, slammed the door shut, and freed his pounding erection, the likes of which he’d never experienced before. And yet the touch of his hand brought no relief. Indeed, it brought nothing whatsoever. No feelings; no sensation; nothing to bring forth the orgasm that was so desperately needed.

Some ten minutes later he re-emerged, defeated, frustrated, intensely aroused, and feeling the same desperate need for release.

Cleopatra sat calmly, a demure smile on her face …. a smile of knowing.

“I know what you crave, Aaron my dear” she purred, gently caressing the blue crystal that hung on a delicate silver chain between her breasts. “But you can’t have it now”.

Aaron’s desperation grew. The pressure, whilst certainly not painful, was certainly uncomfortable and the associated arousal intensified with each shift in his body position, as the satin panties seemed to caress him in each and every erogenous zone. A vague thought occurred to him regarding his rationale for putting them back on, when he could simply have left them in the bathroom. But that thought was quickly drowned by a renewed wave of sensation, as his body moved in seemingly involuntary protest at the thought that the precious satin panties might be removed.

“I can, however, help you, dearest Aaron” Cleopatra whispered – her dark eyes glinting.

Sleepy Sensation“.


“4 …. and 5 ….. that’s it, eyes open”.

Aaron’s eyelids fluttered open. His glazed, blank stare signalled to Cleopatra that he was indeed in the state she desired.

Conscious and yet unconscious.

Able to absorb, but not respond.

Capable of accepting, but not analysing.

Whilst other patrons enjoyed their meals, and wait-staff dutifully went about their business, Cleopatra was oblivious to them – her attention instead focussed upon her latest conquest.

“Aaron my dear, your conditioning is complete. You are safe. Simply listen to my words, and understand what you have become”.

His blank stare remained. No sign of expression.

“You retain your own free-will, to the extent that I allow”

“I do not own you, nor do I wish to. However, know that as of this day forth, you exist to serve me, when and as I choose, for as long as I wish to retain you for my pleasure“.

“You are my pet, Aaron. A pet with needs. And those needs can only be met by me. Try to resist my control, and I will quickly ensure that your needs are not met. Obedience will bring pleasure and release. Resistance of any kind, whilst futile, will bring forth the sensations you recently experienced – frustration and denial“.

“You enjoy this state. A state of mindlessness. A state you long harboured a desire to experience. A state you came to enter freely and willingly. A state whereby you have neither the capacity to think nor question, but merely to accept. You can and shall enter this state easily and often, when I decide the time is right.

“You are aware that I hold the keys to your mind, and I shall use those keys as I so desire”.

“I will now awaken you from this lovely state, and we shall enjoy the remainder of our meal together”.

Wide Awake Aaron”.

Cleopatra watched with a sense of satisfaction as the light returned to Aaron’s eyes, and his awareness flooded back.


The weeks and months seemed to go by so quickly. There was always so much work to be done – but all of it pleasant.

The sense of liberation Cleopatra’s pet experienced in the period following his entry into her servitude was profound.

The feeling of achievement when Cleopatra commented on what a good boy he was, after cleaning her house till it gleamed.

The feeling of delight when she wore one of the many gifts he’d purchased for his Queen.

The feeling of pride when she commented on how submissive he looked in his black satin panties.

The pure bliss that she periodically brought forth with a single, mind-erasing word.

And the untold feeling of euphoria when Cleopatra decided it was time for her pet to be milked.


You have been reading, Cleopatra’s Pet, by Silversleep.

Silversleep, who is a regular subject of mine, both on web cam hypnosis and live, was delighted when I suggested that I’d record this story he’d written as an mp3.  The audio version of this will soon be available for sale.   You can load it onto your mp3 player, sit back, close your eyes, and listen to me read the story of Cleopatra’s Pet … again and again.

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Cleopatra, Your Queen of Erotic Hypnosis