Two Head-Fucks Are Better Than One

A Tumblr rescue, also on MCStories.

This is not based on a true story, but I wish it were! The thing that IS true is that this one time I met @DJPynchon‘s doppelgänger. This is me imagining what might have maybe possibly happened if it had actually been him. As usual, thanks to @silentstream9 for being an excellent editrix.

(Disclaimer: this is not a super accurate portrayal of someone’s very first time being hypnotized. While for some folks it might work like this, others may need a lot more pre-talk and lead-up to the sort of hypnotic feats that go down in this story. But even if it’s not statistically probable, it’s heckin’ fun to imagine!)

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Sara and I weren’t dating, per se, but we also weren’t not dating, so meeting her Dom for the first time was kind of a big deal.

She and I were the first ones at the bar. We snagged ourselves a secluded corner table and I tried not to fret too much. I trusted Sara’s taste in people, after all, so I would probably like this guy, and vice versa. And heck, I was excited to meet the person she’d gushed so much about. It would all be totally fine, I told myself. It would be great, we’d get along, we’d bond over our mutual giant crushes on Sara, and it would all be Totally. Fine.

When Sara grinned at me and jumped up to meet someone at the door, though, I was not prepared for the person I saw there. I mean, given what Sara had told me about him, he was just about everything I had expected: an average-height guy in his 40s with a close-trimmed beard, wearing some punny T-shirt.

Except I knew him.

And not only did I know him, I knew him from kink.

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Model is Brigitte Lahaie

Something about this magazine was curiously captivating. Even… arousing.

She didn’t know why, of course. It was nothing special, just your average magazine. She couldn’t actually remember how long ago she’d subscribed, or why, but every few months she'd get it in the mail, and there was always some headline on the front that made her glance inside, and before she knew it she'd read it cover to cover.

The article she was reading now, for instance, was full of fascinating facts and figures about… something. Something that was no doubt fascinating! But the subject drifted just out of reach of her mind. If only she read more of the article, she thought, it would surely become apparent.

The more she read, though, the more distractible she became. She noticed with a start that she had shrugged her robe open, that one hand had slipped down and started playing with her sensitive breasts. It had happened almost of its own accord, but now that she was touching herself there she didn’t want to stop. It felt so nice, and it would probably alleviate some of the ache between her legs and let her finally focus on this article, this fascinating article that she had to keep reading…

Some bits of the text sent jolts of pleasure through her body, just enough to leave her squirming and wanting more. She read on, hoping with each word that she’d get to feel that electric current to her pussy again. Unconsciously, she snaked a hand between her legs and started gently touching herself, teasing herself.

The words reverberated through her, though she couldn’t quite tell what the words were. Better just to read and play and let the article filter through her brain. Her body hummed with tension, her hand sped up its motion against her clit. She knew this article must have some fascination conclusion, some thesis or final reveal that was really explosive…

The very last sentence sent her over that delicious, delicious edge. She came hard enough to see stars, gasping and clutching at the copy of Brainwashing Quarterly beside her.

So Close Together

From So Close Together. Actresses are Krystal Boyd and Candace Luca.

She smiled as she looked down at me. The weight of her over my hips felt so good, and the way her hair shimmered in the light, and that smile – oh God, that smile. It meant that she was about to do something terrible, and it made me instantly wet.

“Look at me, Alison,” she instructed, but she didn’t need to; my eyes were already locked on hers like magnets. I couldn’t look away if I tried. She could tell – she could always tell – and her smile widened. “Good girl,” she murmured. I exhaled, hard. Shit, the things she did to me.

“You can feel the pull of my eyes, can’t you?” She was speaking softly, honey in her voice, and I was helpless against it, against her eyes, against her. “You can feel them captivating you, pulling you in. You can feel the weight of me pushing you down. You can feel how badly you want to submit…”

“Submit,” my lips mumbled automatically. She laughed at my traitorous mouth, and I squirmed against her.

“Good girl,” she murmured again. “Your body knows what I’m about to do to you, doesn’t it? It wants it so bad. It knows what’s best for you, after all. Now, all that’s left is to get your pesky brain out of the way…”

Business and Pleasure

Tumblr rescue, also on MCStories. As usual, many thanks to @silentstream9 for edits!

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This is what happens when you mix business and pleasure, grumbled Ashley to herself as she ran her oil-slick hands down her client's back and fought to still the answering tremble in her hips.

Or more accurately, she corrected herself, what happens when you mix business, pleasure, and hypnosis. Because I’ve definitely mixed business and pleasure before, and it never turned out like… like this.

Ashley was a massage therapist–and a damn good one, if she did say so herself. Countless times, her ministrations had left her lovers in melty piles of bliss. But Tracy–goddamn Tracy, with their soft brown eyes and their honeyed voice and their wicked smile–Tracy had thrown hypnosis into the mix. Had somehow tapped into all of the secret desires that had been bubbling in Ashley practically since puberty. Tracy had turned service into pleasure, and left Ashley trembling in arousal from the feeling of her hands on her lover's skin. She had begging to touch them, had begged to please and to serve, her own touch undoing her as thoroughly as it had undone so many others in the past.

That night had been incredible, as Ashley had left her mind and her arousal in Tracy's capable hands, had pleased and pleasured Tracy in every way she could think of and had herself come hard enough to see stars–multiple times. And Ashley would have been thrilled to repeat the experiment as many times as possible–in private.

Instead, here she was in her studio with a client–a client, for fuck's sake!–and somehow, the effects of last night's brain-fuckery had not gone away. There was a lithe young woman laid out on the massage table before her, back exposed and slick with oil, her lower half obscured by a sheet, and Ashley's fingers ached to touch her in a distinctly un-professional way. Every stroke along her client's back filled Ashley with pleasure, every knot she loosened struck her straight between the legs.