Bound in Ivy
A Smuthunter Story
It had been a strange and wonderful couple of months for Janelle.
Her boyfriend Alex, and she admitted to it without hesitation despite him being close to ten years her junior, was a sweet and sensitive person with a good heart, a good head on his shoulders, and a very compassionate soul. It was easy to love him, and she did, and it also helped that he was hers.
He wasn’t just madly in lover with her, he was, it was that she had him.
She was inside his brain, pushing his buttons, leading him and steering him at times with the softest nudge and the most gentle persuasion, all enhanced by her hypnotic influence on his subconscious.
In the early days of their relationship, when he’d come into her store and she’d almost accidently discovered his suggestibility to her, hypnotism had played a dominant factor in their interactions. Janelle hadn’t just entranced him with a few tricks, she’d seduced him into a state of hypnotic and erotic compliance. Sexual relief and release had been his reward for his submission, but that had been about convincing him to work for her for free.
It was also to get to him to stick around so she could get to know him better.
If she’d said it out loud it would have sounded worse that it was, she’d liked him almost immediately, and yes his wealth was a factor in her desire to play mind games with him, but her affection for the quiet and completely decent young man had come purely form her own heart.
Since those early days she hadn’t needed to or really wanted to touch his mind, and though he’d started to catch on at one point, she’d done more than enough to cloud over and undermine an recollection or real desire to try and remember how she’d pressed his buttons.
Still though, when they were intimate, there was a sense of surrender in his body and mind, a softness that could be used to make him into putty in her hands, and he still responded to the sight of her cleave the way he’d been programmed to.
He was also submissive, he might have been before, he probably was, but with the inciting incident of her hypnotic play, she had a fairly deep hold on his mind that transcended the bedroom. It was there, but she tried not to use it, though it was impossible for her not to be the dominant when he saw even a hint of cleavage.
She was almost overly modest in her day-to-day dress though, and while her breasts were impossible to ignore or miss, he was always more focused and just a little sharper when there wasn’t any cleavage on display.
It was hard not to be happy when his innocent mistakes about love and relationships were so easily corrected with a revealing top.
Janelle knew it, yes, even though she hadn’t actively employed any technique on him for weeks, he was still essentially programmed to respond to her authority without question.
But there was more there, Janelle could feel it, she knew Alex was always acting out of want, just like he was almost ambitiously generous out of want too. He was not just some mindless spiral eyed zombie under her love spell, he was devoted, in love, and genuine.
This did cause a little bit of turmoil in her heart and her head.
There were things Janelle wanted, things she knew he could easily afford to give to her if she asked, but the bookish busty redhead could never really reach into herself to find that predatory ambition to ask or even to hint at these things. Logic said it wasn’t really taking advantage of him, but, she’d already taken advantage of him.
Of course it was easy to see the differences between sharing their relationship and being a couple, and between asking for extra and fishing for more.
He was already her unpaid employee, he was already buying lunch every day, and frequently dinner and breakfast too, but the things she’d started to dream about, the things she really wanted were more than just the favors and functions of a relationship.
There were the small ambitions she’d always dreamt, ones that his money put within astoundingly easy reach.
There was one other thing too, more complicated thing.
She’d loved the feeling of controlling him in those early days. The process and systematic assault of flirtation, seduction, and methodical hypnotic persuasion had pressed all of her buttons, but much like he was a reserved person, so too was she.
It was more like she was repressed, but Janelle, being repressed, never allowed herself to think of her own sexual identity in those terms.
So, even though the sex was good, the cuddling and hand holding was romantic, and the kissing always a gentle and pleasant embrace, there was a hunger inside her, a low burning star of passion and sensual inspiration that she was fundamentally afraid of.
There were boundaries she’d already crossed, and was hesitant to do that again for fear of their already unconventional power dynamic.
Janelle was already the older woman, he was already an innocent and sweet rich young man, she had already hypnotized him, now, to think about making it a regular part of their life and establish even more of that power differential in their already deeply romantic but (to her mind) lopsided affair, seemed like it would truly define her as something other than who she saw herself as.
But then, she’d read some of his comic books.
It all came together then.
And when it was done, Janelle would learn something about the truth of who she’d always wanted to be deep down inside.
Growing up, American comics always felt impenetrable to her.
Sure in the last fifteen years comics had gotten better, but when she was a kid and an early teen it was basically superheroes with their crazy continuity and deep interconnected webs of impossible and incoherent mythology, or it was Sandman, Maus, Elf Quest, or Love and Rockets.
So, like a lot of other nerdy girls, she read manga instead.
It was more accessible, there was more variety, and it wasn’t a scene that was predominantly for guys.
Even with the popularity of the movies it was still hard to get into the Marvel and DC books, because comics existed in their own world, one so dense and insular no one in it realized it was all but impossible to breach it in any casual way. Running a second hand bookstore she would get graphic novels that would pass through her doors, she even had a section for them, but most of what moved was indie stuff, stuff that had a definitive beginning, middle, and end.
Besides, there was a great comics shop a few blocks away; her putting too much shelf space for graphic novels was a little redundant.
So yes, she knew them, in that she knew of them roughly, but she never read them. Since manga was so much more diverse in its content and approach she’d gotten her words and pictures fix there, never really needing to branch out into that other world.
Then, Alex recommended a few classic stand alone Batman stories, and then some X-Men and Superman that he said were sort of required reading, and it went on from there.
Being a fast reader, it was easy to work through most of his suggestions, and being compelled by what she’d seen, Janelle started to follow her own interests. And as it turned out, they wound their way back to Batman, more so, to Poison Ivy.
She wasn’t alone in this interest either.
One night, exploring her own feelings as much as his, she’d asked Alex about his favorite villains, and them offered up Ivy and started asking questions about her. It wasn’t so much that he’d blushed, he did a little when she started talking about thinking her mind control powers were sexy, it was that he’d gotten a little tongue tied and reserved.
He’d talked about Harley Quinn, and Emma Frost, he’d talked about Cat Woman, and countless other male bad guys, all with an easy and endless degree of expertise and enthusiasm, but Ivy had quieted him down, put a lid on him the way talking about or asking about an ex usually did with other people.
There was something there, but she didn’t push it.
Instead, she planned.
The hardest part of putting it all together was finding the right tan trench coat and the matching wide brimmed hat. Everything else had been easy. Halloween came and went, and she’d pieced together everything that was needed for a truly authentic look by harvesting day after clearance sales, and using some common sense approaches to the more nuanced elements of the version she’d chosen to cosplay.
No, cosplay wasn’t the right word, at least it wasn’t the most complete word.
It was more than that.
The wrist crossbow had been a non-starter, in part because it didn’t show up all that often, but mainly for the practicality of wearing and managing it. It had been hard not to go that direction though, to omit that detail. Janelle was a complete-ist and fueled by an almost pathological attention to detail in her interest, so she felt like she was failing in some small way by not duplicating it.
The point of all of this wasn’t just duplication though, it wasn’t just dressing up for her boyfriend who was going to love it, or for a little but of naughty role-play for her own desires.
No, it was more than that, and more than cosplay too, and the details were important, not just in her look, but in her psychology, and that also largely fed into her anxiety about not including that one detail.
But, it was for the best, and it wasn’t just one detail either.
The green opera gloves wouldn’t work for her plan as is was. She had to cut the fingers off, then she added little additions to them to give continuity with the rest of her look. It was irksome to not be perfectly on model, but in the end she’d come to realize her look had become a hybrid.
It wasn’t as involved as some of the references she’d looked at, but that wasn’t what she was going for, the glamour would be in the moment not in the flourishes and personal touches that she loved in other people’s approaches but so no value in for her own.
She’d made up for it though with additional readings. Not just about the character, and not just watching her various animated incarnations on Alex’s laptop while he cleaned the store, but in looking at and understanding the deeper source material and conceptual influences on the character. She would be more full and rounded out, more personalized internally, and that was where it mattered most to her.
Now, as she stood outside his door, hair tucked into her hat, coat tight, and sunglass over her eyes in the dark of early winter, she shivered. It was not just with anticipation, but with the last chill of the outside cold still hanging on her skin.
She waited a moment while her left hand slid into her coat pocket, and down through the hole she’d cut in it. If the coat would become a regular part of her wardrobe she’d patch it up, but right now it was only a prop. No, not ‘only’, it was a tool to help her reach her desired ends.
No one was around in the halls of his building, no one ever was, and that was what made what she was doing okay.
The feeling of heat, the tender electricity of her self-touch, sparked off the anxious thrill that had been building since she’d started getting ready. Now, in silence she brought herself to a sudden and powerful completion. Her fingers dipped in deep, saturated with her juices.
As she knocked with her other hand, she slide her fingers out and waited for the door to open.
“Oh hi,“ Alex had opened the door and wasn’t so much surprised to see his girlfriend as he was surprised to see her like this.
“Hello darling,” darling wasn’t a word she used in regular or irregular conversation, but it was part of the affectation, the noir sensibility she was drawing on. As she walked in, she brushed her left hand across his cheek and his neck, and watched as he reflexively sniffed the air. Of course he would feel her wetness on his skin, but there was no way he’d ever guess what it was.
“I thought you had,” Janelle’s left hand came up again, this time pressing a finger on his lips.
“Change of plans,” her foot closed the door behind her and she knew he couldn’t help but get a hint of her taste. “I could leave if you don’t want me here.”
She took off her glasses, “But you don’t want that do you?”
Janelle could feel Alex’s energy, he was off balance, and in truth, she was too, but it was easier for her to feel this way because it was an act. It was an act that would be just real enough, but it still being an act was enough to allow her follow through with it.
“Your eyes… they’re not green?” He’d licked his lips after she moved her finger, and he’d tasted something familiar, she knew it, and she knew he couldn’t quite place it.
“Aren’t they? And don’t you like the color green?” Her hat came off and she shook out her hair. The loose curl to her normally straight hair enhanced its body.
“Tell me,” she unfastened the belt of her coat and let her fingers linger on the high top button, “don’t you miss the spring and summer green? The vibrant life of nature, flowers blooming, filling the air with their scent? Don’t you see it deep in my eyes Alex? Look closely.”
The button started to come undone. She wasn’t going to use eye fixation on him, it wasn’t part of the character. It was to prime him, a subconscious lead for his imagination to follow, something to set the mood.
“I’m sure you can almost smell it can’t you Alex my darling.” The button revealed a hint of pale white skin and his eyes broke her gaze. She smiled to herself as Alex seemed to smell something, and like that taste, he couldn’t quite place it.
He didn’t know it was coming from his own cheek, he didn’t realize he’d been marked, and he had not idea it was enhanced by her panties being soaked through now.
“Doesn’t it remind you of anything? Don’t my green eyes remind you of warmth, of peaceful quiet days, lazy, soft, and blooming with green?”
Her coat fell from her shoulders just as his eyes started to move back up to hers. It was perfectly timed to keep him anxiously chasing where he thought he was supposed to look.
“I love mother nature’s beauty don’t you?”
He smiled in a befuddled and enthralled daze, one that came on him so suddenly it was like he had been physically struck.
Her large breasts were barley contained by her green scoop necked leotard, and Alex’s eyes found them the way any man’s would, reinforced by the way he’d been trained to stare.
She’d sown costume ivy leaves onto it in layers like scales, and had done the same to her now fingerless green opera gloves. At first she thought it would have been enough plain, but taken as a whole with her boots, she realized it had all needed just a little more.
Otherwise, the look would have come out as distinctively 1980s exercise ensemble.
Her boots were really an elaborate combination of ballet flats, vinyl, and leg warmers, with leaves added along the seems to hide the construction, and added at the tops to create an illusion of flared tops.
The green tights she wore under her leotard were so pale they were almost white, and they disappeared into her boots. They had been a part of her outfit on and off from the start, but like the gloves the logistics of her plan required they undergo some alteration. She’d cut the crotch out of them last night after a few run-throughs when she discovered she couldn’t easily get between her own legs.
Recognition flashed in his eyes as he took all of her in. Then, he started to put together just what he was seeing.
“Here for you lover, yes I am.” She walked back up to him and put her arms around his neck to hang gently off of him. “Don’t you like it? Don’t you like the green?”
She leaned in close, like she was going to kiss him, but pulled away as he come in to meet her. His eyes were once again glued to hers.
Her fingers trailed down his cheek again, but this was just for touch, just to keep up the tension. She held him in the artificial green gaze of her contact lenses
“Don’t you just want to breathe it in?” He was so enthralled with her act, so caught up in her theatrics, that he didn’t notice her other hand move between her legs to re-awaken the scent.
“Isn’t it so easy to breathe in the alluring whisper of green, compelling you like pheromones, hidden teases swirling in the fragrance of lust, compelling you to lose yourself deep in the green.”
She let hot breath play across his neck before she whispered in his ear, “Breathe it in and let it relax you, lose yourself in the fragrant green.”
Her hand had stayed between her legs and was working with a slow and measured vigor, and as her lips pressed against his cheek she dipped her fingers in again.
Janelle pulled back and looked deep into Alex’s eyes. They were starting to get a little dull around the edges, but there was a frantic excitement to them still, and she could feel his anxiety mounting just as she’d planned.
Things were going perfectly.
Wanna see what happens next…