Marital Aid Ch. 05

"Mistress?" The sound of Isabella's voice brought Clea back to herself. "Are you alright?"

Clea noted with pride the way Isabella's voice didn't falter as she called her 'mistress'. The older woman barely even blushed. All of this, including their kink dynamic, had become completely normal to her now. Just as it should have.

"Yes, of course," Clea assured her. "Just a little distracted, that's all."

It was true. As Clea had been standing at the door to their kitchen, looking in, watching Isabella cook for her, she'd become distracted by just how perfect her life had become. It was strange; after such a long time spent yearning and hoping, Clea didn't know what to do with herself. She had it all. All her dreams had come true. What came next?

Clea decided there was nothing left to do but bask in the afterglow and enjoy her newfound domestic bliss with the older woman she'd hypnotized into a loving, devoted, submissive lesbian.

"Anyway," Clea said, as she walked over and pressed herself against Isabella's back, "are you sure you won't let me take care of that? You should really take the weight off your feet."

She reached around and rested a hand on Isabella's full, round, pregnant belly.

"No thank you, mistress," Isabella replied, pausing for a moment to rest one of her hands atop Clea's. "I love making food for you."

Clea just smiled. She'd known Isabella would say that, of course. Even six months pregnant, she insisted on doing her fair share of the housework, despite the long hours she was still spending at the office. The two of them had an unusual dynamic - at work, Isabella was still Clea's boss, but in private, their dynamic flipped and Isabella was the submissive one. She liked to joke that cooking and cleaning was the least she could do to make up for spending all day bossing her mistress around.

The main reason Clea let her was that Isabella was so clearly flourishing in their new life together. She was dramatically, visibly happier than she had ever been with her husband. Having a partner who truly appreciated her made all the domestic work Isabella did incredibly rewarding, and she was able to put all that energy back into her professional life as well. Everywhere, Isabella was excelling. She'd received more than a few comments from coworkers about how much happier and more fulfilled she seemed ever since the divorce from her ex-husband had been finalized. Clea had never been more proud of her.

Except for the day they had received the happy news that Isabella was pregnant.

"You know, I can't wait to have kids with you," Clea said softly to Isabella. "We're gonna be great moms."

Isabella blushed. Clea knew hearing that meant a lot to her. "'Kids' plural, huh?" she replied playfully. "Are you sure you're not getting a little bit ahead of yourself? I'm still working on number one here."

"Nope," Clea told her confidently. "You've always wanted a big family, right? Well, me too. Two boys and a girl."

"Two boys and a girl?" Isabella echoed. "Why?"

"I don't know," Clea admitted. She stretched forward and kissed Isabella's cheek. "It just sounds good to me."

"It doesn't sound bad," Isabella admitted. Then, with a touch of theatricality, she sighed. "I guess I'm just gonna have to get used to carrying all this extra weight around, aren't I?"

"You sure are." Clea giggled. "Now we know how well IVF works for you, I intend to exploit it to the fullest."

After just a few months, the fertility treatments Isabella had started to undergo had paid off. Finally, Clea was giving Isabella what she'd always wanted: a family of her own. Working together to deal with the pregnancy and prepare for the baby had brought the two of them closer than ever before. Clea had never felt happier.

And it helped that pregnancy looked really, really good on Isabella.

"You know, in my book, the extra weight isn't a bad thing at all," Clea murmured into her lover's ear. "I love how this maternity dress makes you look,"

She started rubbing her palm back and forth across her belly. The way the fabric of the long, blue dress was stretched taut over Isabella's growing baby bulge was utterly enchanting. Clea couldn't keep her hands away. Dressed like that, standing in the kitchen with a wooden spoon in her hand, she was the very embodiment of classic, mature femininity. Anyone would have thought so.

The only detail that might have raised their eyebrows was the conspicuous leather collar kept permanently fastened around Isabella's neck.

Isabella responded with a low purr of appreciation. "Thank you, mistress." She hesitated. "I feel huge. I think this one's getting a little small on me."

"Yeah?" Clea replied, voice breathy. "Well, I like it that way. Really shows off how much of a MILF you're turning into."

"Goodness!" Isabella giggled. She was leaning back against Clea eagerly. "Stop!"

"Nope," Clea shot back playfully. "How could I? I know you're cooking, but you look good enough to eat."

Her hands were roaming up and down Isabella's body now, exploring her hips, her thighs, her chest... she was getting bigger in all the right places. Clearly, motherhood suited her.

"M-mistress! Isabella's voice started to take on a needy, whiny, high-pitched quality as Clea felt her up. "That's not fair!"

"Oh yeah?" Clea couldn't stop grinning. She knew Isabella was enjoying this just as much as she was. "Why's that?"

Isabella moaned sharply as Clea rested a hand on one of her swollen, sensitive breasts, then giggled as euphoric pleasure washed over her. "A-ah! You k-know how crazy my hormones are these days! T-this is... unff... really d-distracting."

"Sorry." Clea giggled too - but she didn't stop. Not yet. "I guess I should let you get back to cooking, huh? Maybe after dinner, I can help you blow off a little steam."

Isabella paused for a long moment. Clea kept groping her. She knew the decision her lover was struggling to make, and was more than happy to keep putting her thumb on the scales.

"Actually," Isabella said slowly, eventually, "this could really do with simmering for a little while. So... maybe right now, we c-could..."

Clea let out a smug laugh and then kissed the back of Isabella's neck. "Bedroom's just upstairs, darling."

After Isabella turned down the heat to keep the pot at a bare simmer, the two of them walked hand in hand up to their bedroom. Happily, Isabella had been awarded the house in the divorce. It meant lots of space for both her and Clea, and plenty more to spare for when the baby arrived. Unhappily, now that she was on the threshold of her third trimester, Isabella had some amount of trouble navigating the stairs. Clea, though, was always there to help her, step by step, until the two of them made it all the way to the top.

"Goodness," Isabella sighed, as she slumped down onto their king-sized bed. "I swear that gets harder every day. I might need a minute to catch my breath. Sorry, mistress."

"There's no need to apologize," Clea told her firmly. "Understand?"

"Understood," Isabella immediately replied, and nodded submissively.

"Good." Clea perched next to her on the bed. "Besides, I have something for you to do while you rest up."

Isabella looked at her quizzically.

Clea reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone - and a pair of earbuds. "I have one last meditation music video I'd like you to check out."

"One last..." Isabella lit up at once, although she looked surprised. "Wow! I thought you were done with these a long time ago."

"I know it's been a little while," Clea acknowledged. "But, what can I say? Recently, I got the itch to make just one more. For the road, I guess."

"You won't hear me complaining." Isabella was already untangling the earbuds. "Why only one more, though? I'm curious."

"I just..." Clea paused for a long moment to consider her answer. "I just don't think we'll be needing any more."

Isabella was visibly puzzled, but seemed to accept Clea's answer for what it was. "I see. Well, like I said, no complaints here. I'm just glad to have one more I can add to my regular playlist!" She looked at Clea and smiled. "Thank you, mistress. I've really loved having these to listen to."

Clea giggled. "You're welcome. Although, you know, it's actually my friend Bruna you should be thanking."

"Aren't you enigmatic today?" Isabella teased. "Fine, I'll thank her - but later. I'm eager to listen. My life is a whole lot less stressful without my ass of an ex-husband, but I could still do with a little relaxation."

Clea gestured for her to lie back and get started. She helped Isabella get into position: lying flat on her back, head on the pillows, blanket folded under her pelvis to help with her aching muscles. While Isabella got the music video loaded up, Clea pressed close to her side and then, once it was ready to play, took the phone out of the older woman's hands and held it up for her to see.

"Ready?" Clea asked.

Isabella nodded.

Clea hit 'play'.

This was far from the first time Clea had watched Isabella enjoy one of her specially tailored, hypnotic videos, but no matter how often it happened, it was always a joy to watch the older woman's face as she succumbed to trance. Clea could practically count the muscles beneath her skin as, one by one, they completely relaxed, leaving Isabella with a slack, mindless, blissfully calm expression. There was something captivating and unspeakably beautiful about it. This was exactly how tranquil and peaceful Isabella always deserved to look.

But it was far from instant; the trance took hold slowly, and there was an entire, wonderful performance to the way it happened. Every few moments, as the video playing in front of her drained all the will and awareness out of Isabella, she tried to gather herself - not to fight or resist, just to stay focused on Clea's gift. Her eyelids would force themselves wide open, only to sag again after a couple of seconds. The light would return to her eyes, only for the spark to quickly fade into an absent, glassy sheen. Each time, each cycle, Isabella slipped a little deeper, unable to renew herself fully, until eventually, she stopped trying. Stopped struggling.

Stopped thinking.

Clea kept her gaze fixed carefully on Isabella's face. She couldn't risk looking at the music video herself. The risk of catching splash damage was too great. But she could certainly see the way Isabella's face was being bathed in spinning, kaleidoscopic patterns; more and more with each passing moment, as the complex patterns playing on the video unfolded and unfurled in entrancing, ever-shifting formations. At the same time, in sync with them, Clea could hear deep, pulsing, binaural beats leaking out from the earbuds; as much as that, she could feel them, the vibrations passing through Isabella's body and into hers.

Isabella was hopelessly weak to all of it now. She'd embraced that weakness, succumbing willingly to Clea's gifts. She loved going into trance for Clea. She loved the relaxation it brought her. She loved feeling Clea's voice wrapping around her like a warm hug. Clea liked to think that, even if some part of Isabella's subconscious mind had figured out that she was being hypnotically altered by the music videos, she had decided to accept it.

After all, she was so much happier now.

And to make sure she stayed perfectly happy forever, Clea needed to alter her just a little more.

You are a lesbian, Isabella

Though muted, Clea could still hear her prerecorded voice clearly as the video pumped it into Isabella's ears. More alteration would come later. First, Clea wanted to be sure to reinforce some other key suggestions.

You are attracted to Clea

You cannot resist Clea

Obeying Clea makes you feel good

Clea knows what's best for you

Isabella's face registered not even the slightest hint of resistance or rejection. After many months of constant repetition, she had long since accepted each and every one of them. They had become part of her. In all likelihood, they'd remain true even if Isabella was never hypnotized again. Once you accepted something deeply enough, it became self-reinforcing.

You are a submissive lesbian

You crave sexual contact with Clea

You are in love with Clea

Clea can give you a family

Clea loved the way a faint blush was visible in Isabella's cheeks as she contemplated submission to Isabella.

You don't like men

You cannot orgasm with men

You don't need your ex-husband

Those ones were even less likely to need further reinforcement. They were barely relevant to Isabella's new life. But Clea liked feeding them to Isabella anyway. A harmless little pleasure.

You are confident

You are proud of being a lesbian

You are comfortable with people knowing you're a lesbian

You need to marry Clea and have her children

Watching that last particular set of suggestions become true for Isabella had been indescribably wonderful. Despite all opposition and prejudice, inside and out, Isabella had come to completely accept her new life and her new identity. She was out as a lesbian to everyone now. In her day-to-day life, she was rarely seen without a little lesbian pride flag pin somewhere on her clothes. At work, she had taken charge of organizing the company's pride events.

Isabella was such a lesbian. Clea loved it.

Finally, after all the rest, Clea had planted a few new suggestions she thought would help to ensure Isabella's happiness.

You love belonging to Clea

Clea is your lesbian mistress

You love being Clea's submissive lesbian slave

You are proud of being Clea's lesbian wife

No resistance to those either. Not even a flicker. Isabella remained completely and totally focused on the phone screen. After everything else, why would she fight? Why would she even question? Isabella already liked the idea of all of those things - especially the kinky stuff.

Clea could see the acceptance in her blank, hypnotized eyes as the mantras washed over her.

You crave being bred by Clea

Being pregnant with Clea's children turns you on

You never take off your collar without permission

Clea's pussy is the most delicious thing in the world

Clea giggled quietly to herself. Those final few hypnotic suggestions were, admittedly, completely self-indulgent. Were they essential for Isabella's happiness? Perhaps not. But they wouldn't hurt. Clea knew that she was going to enjoy them.

And moreover, she knew Isabella would too.

In fact, by the looks of it, she'd already started. As each of those suggestions was fed into Isabella's ears, her cheeks started to develop a telltale, rosy glow, and her deep breaths took on a faint, panting, needy tone. Without waking, she shifted just a little, rubbing her thighs together. Clea grinned. She knew those signs very, very well by now.

Isabella was turned on.

How could she not be? Every new desire Clea was giving her was already being inflamed and catered to. She belonged to Clea, she was wearing her collar - and, above all, she was pregnant with Clea's child.

Now that she had such an intense kink for that, Isabella was going crazy.

Clea was very, very tempted to start playing with her right away. But she managed to restrain her eagerness and simply watched patiently as the music video started to loop the new suggestions over, and over, and over.

Eventually, though, it came to an end. After many long minutes, the music video had run its course. Once the suggestions were firmly planted in Isabella's mind, the shifting patterns and colors on the phone's screen came to a halt, and the binaural beats playing in Isabella's ears faded away to silence.

With nothing keeping her in a trance, Isabella slowly began to stir. Her eyes, no longer held transfixed, started to blink and flutter as awareness returned to them. She started shifting around a little, and let out a few heavy, sleepy noises. Isabella arched her back and stretched as she situated herself, and when she noticed Clea lying next to her, she smiled warmly at her beloved.

"Hey," the older woman said in a distant, dreamy voice.

"Hey yourself," Clea threw back.

"I'm sorry." Isabella rubbed at her eyes. Her brow furrowed for a moment as she tried to remember what had just happened. "What was I... oh, your meditation video! I guess it worked a little too well on me, I must have drifted off. That's so embarrassing, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Clea told her. "You deserve all the rest you need. You're resting for two at the moment, right?"

Both of them giggled. Then, Clea reached across the bed and rested a hand, affectionately and possessively, on Isabella's pregnant belly.

Isabella's reaction was instant. She squeaked, and a sudden, hot flush hit her cheeks. Clea could tell exactly what was going on in her head. That gentle little touch had reminded Isabella of her situation. Her pregnancy.

And how intensely hot she suddenly found it.

"P... please," Isabella whimpered.

Clea licked her lips. She couldn't resist having just a little fun.

"Please?" Clea tilted her head, playing dumb. "Oh, you need more rest? Of course, my love. We can play around later. For now, you just stay right here and rest."

"Nooooo," Isabella whined, reaching for Clea. She was hopelessly weak to her lover's teasing.

"No?" Clea could barely keep herself from giggling at Isabella's plight. "Well, no, I guess we don't have to have sex later either, if you really don't want to."

"I... need..." Between the blistering arousal and residual fogginess, Isabella was struggling to form words. But her intent, as she blushed and panted and reached desperately for Clea, was extremely clear. "Need... you... to fuck me."

Clea smirked at her. In her mind, the older woman never looked prettier than she did like this. "Ask properly, darling."

Isabella's blush renewed itself, and she nodded submissively. "Yes, mistress. P-please fuck me, mistress."

Clea licked her lips again. "Gladly."

She propped herself up on one arm, and the hand Clea had rested on Isabella's belly started rubbing and stroking, movingly slowly down the pregnant woman's body as it did, reaching closer and closer to her sensitive places. Isabella whined. She was torn between gratitude that she was getting what she wanted, and impatience that Clea was still teasing her with gradual foreplay.

"You're so hot," Clea breathed. "Always - but especially like this."

A loud moan forced its way out of Isabella's throat. She looked embarrassed, and surprised at herself - surprised at just how hot she was finding Clea commenting on her pregnancy.

"You know why?" Clea told her, still fondling her belly. "Because this is mine. You're having my child. For me. Because of me. And that means, even more than all the rest of you, this belongs to me."

"Oh my god," Isabella moaned. She looked overwhelmed by her own arousal as that thought wormed its way into her head, stoking the fire of her new breeding kink. "Yes! Yyyesss!"

Clea giggled again. "And I love that you love being owned and bred by a younger woman. You're such a submissive dyke."

Isabella just nodded enthusiastically. She was practically feverish with need. Desperate for some kind of relief, she reached down with her own hand, straining to touch herself.

But Clea swatted her hand away.

"No," she told Isabella, gently but firmly. "That's my job. Understand?"

Isabella let out another little whine of protest, but obediently let her hand fall against the bed. She wouldn't touch herself without Clea's permission. Clea loved that. She loved the bond of trust and care it represented. Clea took it very seriously, which was why she wasn't going to be too mean.

But she knew Isabella loved it when she dragged things out just a little.

"But, you know what?" Clea said teasingly. "I seem to remember you telling me earlier all about how much you love servicing me and doing things for me. So, how about this? You make me cum first. Then I'll fuck you."