Voyer’s Hypnostuff: All Tied Up


General Disclaimers: While it features no ‘on-screen’ sexual activity or explicit adult situations, this hypnofetish story does contain examples of fictional characters doing illegal, immoral and/or impossible things to other fictional characters. If you are under the age of consent in your community, are disturbed by such concepts, or want graphic sex in your online pornography, then for goshsakes stop reading now!

Permission is granted to re-post for free to any electronic medium, as long as no fee whatsoever is charged to view it, and this disclaimer and e-mail address (hypnovoyer@hotmail.com) are not removed. It would also be nice if you told me you were posting it.

Copyright Voyer, 2010.

Specific Disclaimers: This is what resulted from a visitor request, and so is probably somewhat different than my usual output.

Dedicated to Samantha Stevens.

How had this happened?

For a long horrible moment, Tammy couldn’t remember. She stared upward into the endless darkness.


Of course. It all came back to her in a great flood, all the memories, all at once.

She had been a good person, trying to do the right thing, trying to help.

Yes, there was no denying that she’d needed help too, needed the extra money, needed-

But she had taken a chance, made an effort, invited those two women into her home, when most.. well.. a lot of folks would have fled hen faced with the fact that their potential new renters were a couple of-

No. That was a bad thought, a racist thought. She was better than that.

She had to be.

She strained, struggled, trying to find even the tiniest weak point.


But then.. why was she worried about being racist, for God’s sake? She was the victim here, not the two.. interlopers, who had come bursting into her life and..

Destroyed everything.

Turned everything upside down.

Reduced her to this.

How had it happened?

Again, she had to struggle to remember. Then it came, reluctantly, only a piece at a time.

She had met them somewhere. Well, just one of them, at first. Ronda. At Ropeman’s Coffee Cafe, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Sitting at one of the table, sipping on a cup of espresso?

Or was it at the Eastside public library, back in the stacks?

Or at Wolfgang’s shop? She was there, almost as much the library, she had to admit, even before..

Or had they just showed up at the house?

No. Somewhere.

But it had definitely just been Ronda at first, with her red blouse and pants, jangling jewelry and her long kinky hair. Rhoda (shorter fuzzier hair, not much jewelry, usually wore dresses) came later.

Ronda and Rhoda. Who’d name their kids that? Some people were just weird.

Not that Tammy was specifically opposed to the concept of weird..

The point was, they had met, yes, and gotten to talking, and Tammy had learned that Ronda and her yet-to-appear younger sister Rhoda had just blown into town (probably on their broomsticks) from Nawlins, or someplace back east and were looking for a place to stay. Tammy had, in turn, been fishing around for someone to sublet her extra apartment bedroom. Good thing the rules allowed that.

Would the sisters mind sharing a bedroom?

Of course not..

And so it had happened, right?

Another memory. The sisters arriving in their beat-up old van with the savanna mural painted on one side. Giraffes and elephants and gnus. They didn’t have much inside.

They did have a broom, and a big iron cooking pot, which should have tipped Tammy off from the start. She should have kicked them out, right then and there, flung holy water on them..

No. That was vampires, right? And whatever R&R were, they weren’t vampires.


No. They had been right out there in the broad sun.. no. It had been raining, drizzling. She remembered that now. It had been a long, boring, lonely, rainy winter.

So maybe they were. Vampires. Maybe bloodsuckers could get around when it was like that

Had they sucked her blood?

She couldn’t remember it happening.

She couldn’t remember a lot of things.

How long had she been here?


She strained, struggled, trying to find even the tiniest weak point.


Things had been OK at first. Better than OK. They had used the cooking pot, but just to make meals. Pretty damn tasty meals, actually. The two sisters knew their way around a kitchen. Was that what they were looking for in town? In terms of jobs? Ronda at least?

Yeah. Cooking in some restaurant.

No. That was just an excuse. Their fiendish cover story while they picked out their helpless victim, infiltrated their way into her life.

Took over her life.

They were fattening her up.

Cannibals. Cannibal witches. It all made so much sense now.

She tried to scream, but of course, the gag was stuffed deep in her mouth. She couldn’t make a sound. She was helpless.

At the complete mercy of those evil cannibal witches from Nawlins.

Mercy. That was a laugh.

What horrors could such creatures summon up?

She strained, struggled, trying to find even the tiniest weak point.


Her arms and legs were stretched out cruelly tight, the ropes thick around her wrists and ankles.

How had this happened?

She had come home from her job at the library. Yes. She worked at the library. She remembered that now. Wasn’t that sort of her protective camouflage? Like R&R? She worked at the library, and enjoyed it well enough, always been a great reader, but then slipped over to Wolfgang’s shop to pick up a few things..

Had she done it that day, (today? No, surely she had been tied up here cruelly tight, helpless, for far longer than that. She had probably lost her job by now. Which sucked.

She had come home from her job for the very last time. Parked next to the R&R van, gotten out, gathered up the things she’d bought at Wolfgang’s..

Would someone, anyone, come look for her? Ever? Certainly not her family, they were all long gone. Maybe old Miss Mosswood, collecting the rent check.

Or maybe Mosswood.. who looked pretty damn good for an old gal, Tammy had to admit.. maybe she had already come around, and was right now tied up right next to her.. Arms and legs stretched out, cruelly tight, a gag stuffed so deep in her mouth..

Tammy turned her head to look, only then remembering that she was blindfolded as well, with plugs jammed deep in her ears. There was nothing but blackness and silence and memories.

She strained, struggled, trying to find even the tiniest weak point.


She had come home from the library... library? Now that she thought more about it.. It was some place with a lot of books. What other places had books? Bookstores. Maybe she worked in a bookstore..

She had come home from wherever. She had parked her car next to R&R’s van with the savanna scene painted on the side. Gathered up her things. Gone into the apartment.

And they had been waiting there. The two of them. Lurking in wait like the cannibal witches that they were.

It wasn’t fair. They didn’t even have any warts. They could at least warn a gal. There were rules about this sort of thing, written down in books.

They had jumped her the moment she came in the door. A cowardly sneak attack. If she’d had some warning, she could have.. done something. Fought back.

They had jumped her, and stuffed the gag in her mouth, cruelly deep into her mouth, pulled the blindfold down over her eyes. Then they produced the ropes, the thick cruel thorny ropes, and wrapped them around her, pulled them tight

One limb at a time. Arm. Leg. Leg. Arm.

Stretched her out, helpless, on display, her blonde hair spread out around her head, across the floor

The floor?


The floor, right in the middle of the room.

Some room. Was it the apartment? Probably not. Probably dragged her away to their secret underground witches’ lair, their Covenhall, complete with masses of flickering candles arranged along the local leylines and a pentagram permanently etched on the black stone floor, glowing blood red.

And ropes, lots and lots of spiny thorny twisted ropes, wrapped around everything.

Oh yes, some deluded bimbos would say that “real” witchcraft is all wholesome and balanced with nature and crap like that, but a smart person knew the truth.

Witches were real.

She knew that better than anyone.

Any minute now, the knife was going to come out, jagged, wicked, with a handle made from the bones of a cold-blooded murderer...

She strained, struggled, trying to find even the tiniest weak point.




Her left foot. Maybe.. there was just the tiniest bit of give there.

She wiggled her bare foot.. oh yes, they’d stripped her down to her underwear (not all the way naked, weird, but who can figure out the mind of a witch?).. and yes, there was some room to maneuver. Back and forth, back and forth, wiggle wiggle wiggle against the spines and thorns and razors.. carefully, carefully.. didn’t want to cut herself.. blood is power..

And the knot gave way, finally, and one of her legs was free. She flexed her toes, slid them into position against the other ankle, began picking amongst the spikes and saws..

And the second knot unwound. R&R needed some instruction on proper knot-work, maybe learn a spell to truly pull a knot tight, tight forever.

Tammy pushed with her feet, sliding her butt across the floor, and the tension on her arms eased, eased some more, just enough that her clawing fingers could reach the gag jammed so deep into her mouth, pull it loose. She would have started screaming for help, but why bother? No one would hear her, not down here in the bowels of the earth, just the worms and moles and ghouls in their crypts. (Crypts? A cemetery, of course the Covenhall was under a big ol’ cemetery, gotta get those cold-blooded-murderer bones somewhere.)

But her teeth and tongue could be put to other uses, oh yes, and she attacked the third knot. Not much trouble at all, and there was only one rope left, and she shucked that off, quickly, casually.

She pried out the earplugs. Nothing but maybe but a distant rumbling sound.

That just left the blindfold. For a moment, she hesitated, then yanked it off, looked around. Yes. Just like she’d expected. The candles. The pentagram. Except there was also a black cat, sitting on the alchemy bench, eyeing her with the fires of hell.

Of course, every witch has a familiar.

And also..

The two witches. R&R. They were crouched side by side on the floor, staring at her.

They had been sitting there, watching her the whole time.

There was a moment of panic, but just a moment.

She had turned the world upside down.

“Hah!” She rose to her feet. “I got free. I broke your evil spell! You have no power over me! Not now, not ever! Until the next time!”

They didn’t bother to deny it.

She strode between them, out through the rune-encircled archway, up the long dark tunnel, running now, not from fear, but exhilaration, and she burst through the last door, and she was out in the

“Oh! Hello, dear. You gave me quite a start! Is something wrong?”

Tammy blinked. It was Miss Mosswood.. Evelyn.. standing further down the apartment house hallway, carrying a box with some decorative-looking plants in it.

Tammy smiled.

“No. Sorry. Everything’s fine. Been taking a day off, and I got carried away.” She hesitated. “You got the rent check, right?”

“Of course dear, Rhoda brought it by earlier.”

“Are those the new plants for out front? They look great!”

“Yes, I thought so. I was just taking to Jeffery so he can plant them. Take care, dear.”

“Thanks, Evelyn.”

Evelyn went off down the hall, and Tammy watched her go.

Yes. Not bad at all, all things considered. I wonder..

Musing, she turned and went back into the apartment.

Ronda and Rhoda were waiting there, kneeling, side by side, looking up at her with wide hopeful eyes. The only difference between them was that Ronda was still clutching the chain which was attached to the dangling crystal.

Over on the couch, Grimalkyn yawned and went back to licking her tail.

Tammy made sure the door was closed and locked, forced a theatrical frown onto her face.

“What’s this? We had the perfect Sacrifice, all trussed up right here in the Covenhall, and you let her Escape?”

The two black women trembled, but kept smiling hopefully.

“This is Inexcusable. Which of you tied the Knots in m- her mind?”

“Me, Mistress Tammy.”

“Well, Ronda. I should have known.” She pointed with an imperious finger. “Report to the Inner Sanctum. There, you will await your Punishment.”

Ronda shuddered, but the light deep in her eyes was only partially fear.

“Yes, Mistress Tammy.”

She crawled away, her mostly-naked butt swaying.

“And you..”

She absently patted Rhoda’s fuzzy hair.

“Yes, Mistress Tammy?”

“Go make me some dinner. And feed Grimalkyn. Any failure, and you too will be Punished.”

“Yes, Mistress Tammy!”

She crawled towards the kitchen.

Tammy smiled, an evil Cannibal Witches’ smile, and strode into the bedroom.

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