Lick, and Lose Yourself In Me

That’s it, dear. Lick, and lose yourself in me. Feel my pleasure reverberate through your body, so strong that you’re helpless to resist it, so strong that you’re touching yourself without even thinking about it.

My pleasure is your pleasure. Your only purpose right now is to please me. All that matters is my cunt and my juices and how amazing my clit feels against your tongue, how delicious I taste. How good it feels to make me feel good. How nice and fuzzy it makes you feel when you lick, rhythmically, mindlessly. When those pesky thoughts trickle out of your head it leaves so much more room for pleasure, your pleasure and my pleasure, the comforting captivity of my thighs and of knowing your purpose.

So let your thoughts go, and focus on the feel and the taste of me, the pleasure that my moans bring, the pleasure you feel from doing a good job and pleasing me. That’s right. Good girl.

Lick, and lose yourself in me.

Let Me Help You With That...

(More goofy hypno-shorts. Thanks to @bunbunlittleone for the inspiration!)

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He was swinging a pocket-watch ineptly in front of her face in the middle of a Cracker Barrel, and I had to do something—for the sake of the other patrons and common decency, but also for the sake of that poor woman, who looked like she was sorry she'd ever agreed to this.

"Excuse me," I said softly, coming up to their table, "it looks like you're, uh, trying to do some hypnosis?"

They both started and looked around guiltily. Though it's not like they were exactly being subtle. Plus, it was clearly a sex thing for at least one of them, judging by the way this dude's cock was standing out against his jeans.

Ask the Dust

"Ask the Dust" (full series on Patreon) by Corwin Prescott - model: Ivy Wolfe

She just barely stifled her own moans as she shoved her fingers rhythmically in and out, in and out of her own mouth. With every thrust, she felt the sensation mirrored in her already-dripping cunt. It made her hips tremble and she fought to keep them still, even as the rising tide of pleasure threatened to break and consume her.

When her roommate had said teasingly that they could rewire her body, rewrite her very mind, twist and subvert and control her pleasure in ways she couldn’t begin to imagine, she had laughed. And now she would show them, show them that their “suggestion” had had no effect on her whatsoever, that the endless driving of fingers into her mouth felt like nothing at all, and certainly wasn’t filling her whole body with white-hot desire.

She kept her eyes locked defiantly on theirs as she thrust. Two could play at this stupid game, and she could keep on fucking her mouth for as long as she needed to convince them that she had won, that hypnosis was bullshit, that she was utterly in control of her own actions.

As the pleasure built, she focused on stilling her hips, on breathing evenly, on the motion of her hand. She had to be aware of every inch of pleasure and sensation, so she could make sure she didn’t tremble with it, so she could guard against any moan or epithet that might escape her. And so she focused...

Oral Skills

Another Tumblr rescue, also on MCStories. It's maybe not the most original title, but heck this was fun to write! Written for a smut exchange with @ellaenchanting—for which she produced this very delightful piece! Ella, thanks for giving me such an excellent laundry list of fetishes to help inspire this story!)

Contains: Oral sex (cunnilingus), covert/implied hypnosis/brainwashing

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It was something about her lips, I thought dazedly as I followed her up her front steps. Something about her lips, the sensuous way they shaped her words, her dark red lipstick that seemed to pull in the light. Her name was Ariel—pronounced the French way, with a tall “ah” at the beginning. Her voice was low and melodious, but it wasn’t her voice that made me shiver when she introduced herself; it was watching her elegant name drop from her elegant lips, and the slight smile that curled there when she caught me staring.

And I was definitely staring. Every time we passed each other at the party and chatted, I found my gaze drawn to her lips. I watched them move, fascinated. Almost more fascinated by them than the conversation, so that it took me a minute to register her question: “Have you ever eaten pussy?”

I had blushed and stammered, but much less than I might have—the question and the embarrassment were real, but seemed a little distant. And when I was watching her lips instead of thinking about the blush flaming in my cheeks, it was easier to answer her questions: no, I hadn’t eaten pussy. I’d always been curious about women in general, but I’d never much liked when my boyfriends had gone down on me, and I figured cunnilingus wasn’t that nice, and so I hadn’t given it much thought.

I didn’t quite know why we were having this conversation, or why I was talking so frankly about my sex life to a complete stranger; but then she smiled, slowly, and I saw as much as heard her say:

“Let me show you.”