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It’s Tuesday and for reasons that are still beyond me, I once again find myself waiting patiently in the office of Grace, the hypnotist. The clock on her wall, which is ticking louder than any clock should, reads 3:15 which means that it’s either wrong or she is running late. I get a sense of deja-vu as my fingers tap against the arm of the chair. I try my hardest to rationalise why I’m here but my mind fails to deliver so much as one reason as to why I would ever return. Am I getting paid? No, I didn’t even get paid for the last session. Do I need to see a hypnotist? Absolutely not! If I wanted someone to rummage around inside my head, I’d pay a professional who went to university and received the proper training. I mean I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a certain thrill to what happened last time but the thrill and pleasure were certainly outweighed by the shame and disgust that lingered on my brain and in my mouth for the following days.
As I let out a loud and exaggerated sigh, I hear the sound of heels tapping against the stone floors outside the office. Walking past the window without so much as a glance inward is Grace. Her familiar and fierce-coloured hair appears to light up the corridors like a flaming torch. As she opens the office door, I can’t help but feel a slight flutter of excitement as my heart appears to speed up momentarily: Although that feeling could just be the caffeine from my coffee beginning to kick in. I’ll extend her the courtesy of hearing what she has to say but I’m not hanging around for another session and I’m certainly not returning for a follow-up. This woman is clearly some sort of con artist and it takes a much smarter mind than hers to get the better of me, I’ll tell you that right now!
The room stays completely silent and despite the fact that I’ve been starting right at her since she walked in, Grace hasn’t so much as glanced in my general direction. She drops her bag onto the table, rummaging around its contents until she pulls out her pen and notepad like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Her pale skin appears even paler in contrast to the dark black dress that she’s wearing today. It looks elegant, as if she is heading straight to a fancy party or banquet immediately after this session. It did fit her body perfectly though! I can see every perfect imperfection and as I scan her up and down, I can’t help but admire the hourglass shape that her body takes on. She definitely looks after herself and if there is a God in this world, he spent a lot of time moulding her. I begin to picture giant hands forming the curves of her body, not letting one single detail be anything less than perfect.
“Whenever you’ve quite finished staring at me, we can begin!” she says, breaking the silence without warning. I glance up to find her dark green eyes looking directly at me. She doesn’t so much as blink as our eyes connect. I force myself to look away in order to break the intense eye contact.
“Sorry…” I tell her, knowing all too well that she wasn’t looking for an apology of any sorts. I mostly say it just to break the tension a little bit. So you can imagine my surprise when I hear her response.
“I’m the one who should be apologising” she explains, “I told you my friend would be joining us today but after reviewing your notes from last week’s session, I decided that you aren’t quite ready yet”. She’s now sitting directly opposite me which is strange as I didn’t once see her move from her standing position behind her desk. One of her legs is crossed elegantly over the other and her open notepad rests on top of her leg. Her heels, which are just as black as her dress, rest neatly together on the floor. When did she take them off? Her bare toes distract me. I can’t help but watch as they relax and contract as she rubs them into the black rug underneath. I glance back up and find myself staring straight past Grace to the window. The blinds are closed…but they were definitely open earlier as that’s the same window I saw her through. What the…
“Today, we’re going to try something a little different from last week. Today, I’m going to install some triggers. In fact, I may have installed some of them already!” she says with menacing intent, the right side of her mouth flicking in and out of a smile as quick as a flash. My mind is already wandering but I can’t help but feel a sense of comfort within her eyes.
“Good, stare into my eyes!” she commands me, my eyes already locked onto hers. “Nothing can distract you; nothing can break your concentration. The longer you look, the less capable you feel of looking away!” her words flow across the room and into my ears, like silk handkerchiefs blowing gently in the wind. I notice her tone rising and falling and all the while I stare deeper and deeper into those green eyes of hers. I keep telling myself it’s just a trick. I keep telling myself that if I really wanted to look away, I could. Yet, I don’t. With each passing moment I find myself noticing canlı bahis new intricate patterns within her iris. I follow the spirals and flakes of colour all the way around without so much as fleeting between one eye and the other.
“Good…Good” she tells me, her voice acting like a lullaby that is beginning to gently soothe me to sleep. My eyelids grow heavy and I find myself having to actively concentrate on keeping eye contact. Another brief smile flickers across her face. “Allow your eyelids to close if they need to and let your body rest back into the chair as it begins to grow heavy and relaxed!” Almost immediately I feel my shoulders slump into my body as head drops down into my chest. Suddenly I find it impossible to lift my arms up and they both roll off the arms of the chair landing heavily into my lap. My eyes slam shut and I begin to feel the embrace of the darkness behind them.
“When I click my fingers, you will sleep” she says, her words echoing around the room as if we were in some sort of cave, “only your subconscious mind will hear what I have to say and you will only wake up when you I tell you to!” There’s a pause and once again silence appears to flood the room. The dark space behind my eyes begins to feel less friendly and welcoming and I start to realise that I don’t like it. I feel trapped! I try in vein to open my eyes, to lift my arms, to stand up from this chair, but each attempt to move makes my body seem less and less connected to my mind.
The sound echoes through my mind and crashes against me like a powerful tsunami of darkness. I can’t see anything, I can’t feel anything, and yet I am acutely aware that my “space”, if you could call it that, in my own mind is running out. This moment reminds me of the trash compactor scene from Star Wars but instead of closing walls, there is enveloping darkness. I begin to feel claustrophobic as my metaphorical cave floods with darkness, until little by little I begin to sink under the surface, fully engulfed by Grace’s power.
My brain flickers back to life and I have absolutely no idea where I am or what is going on. I can hear grace speaking but it’s as if she is standing on the other side of a large, thick, metal door. Her voice sounds deeper and her words are muffled. I try to speak but it’s like my body doesn’t exist. I can’t feel my hands, my arms, my legs, my head…am I breathing? The confusion begins to cause distress but at the same time, I feel like I’m in safe hands. I almost feel like I’m somewhere familiar, somewhere I’ve always been, and that sensation begins to calm me down. I can hear words, strange words and even though I can’t quite make them out, I begin to feel like I know them already, like I’ve heard them before.
Suddenly, I can feel my body again. I can’t see anything but as I lift my hands to my face, I can feel my features and the slightly sweaty texture of my skin. I run my hands down my body and begin to realise that I’m naked. As my hands reach my waist, I notice that I’m completely naked. Something feels cold and metallic against my skin and I become aware that my wrists and ankles feel weighed down. Why didn’t I notice that before? I reach down with one hand and feel cuffs or chains of some sort wrapped around both of my ankles. As I lift my hands back up, I realise that the same material is around my wrists. Wherever I am, I’m trapped! How did I even get here?
In the distance, I notice a very dim light. Is it a firefly? Perhaps it’s a light on the wall? I squint and stare at the small dot of light and soon begin to notice that it is growing in size…wait…no, it’s moving towards me. What is it? The light grows brighter and more vibrant and soon it’s only a small distance away from me. I can feel warmth as it nears. The brightness becomes too much for my eyes to handle and I find my eyelids closing themselves in defence. Slowly, the light subsides and as I open my eyes, I find myself staring at Grace. Her hair is glowing…actually, it’s on fire! Her hair is literally fire! The flames dance around her head, touching her body without burning her. She looks like some sort of Goddess from Ancient mythologies.
“I’m so confused, I…”
“Hush now!” she commands and without the willpower or the desire to disobey her, my lips immediately seal themselves shut. I move my head and body slightly and hear the rattling of my chains down below.
I watch in utter disbelief as Grace waves her hand around the room and small flames ignite themselves, lighting the various candles that have seemingly appeared from nowhere. The room is now bright orange and I look around at my surroundings. We appear to be in some sort of dungeon or basement but I can’t see any natural light…or even artificial light: Only the candles and Grace’s hair. The full extent of my situation begins to dawn on me as I realise that I’m sitting on a hard, wooden chair with the chains for my wrists and ankles bahis siteleri bolted directly into the ground. There’s literally nothing I can do but listen. I’m certainly not leaving here until someone releases me from my shackles.
“You are still in the belief that you control your life, that you make the decisions, that you could stand up and leave, that you could break the spell I’ve cast over you…just…like…that” and with the slightest pause she snaps her fingers. My body goes limp and I find my head resting against the rather uncomfortable back to this chair. My mouth gapes slightly and drool begins to leak out the corner of my lips. I feel like a puppet whose strings have just been snipped and like said puppet, I can only lie here and wait on someone more powerful than I choosing to release me from this state.
“Do you see this vial?” she asks. I manage to move my head slightly and roll my eyes in her direction. In both her hands rests a clear, glass vial and insides this vial is a dark red liquid. It appears to glow and pulsate but I convince myself that it is probably just my eyes plays tricks on me or perhaps the flickering candle light causes this effect. “This is a magic potion that I’ve whipped up just for you!” She pulls the stopper out from the top of the vial and reddish mist or steam expels outward like a small explosion. She begins taking steps in my direction until she is standing by my side. Her flaming hair feels warm as it nears me but not as hot as I would have imagined.
“Something…magical…will happen when you drink this potion” she tells me, lifting the vial to my lips and tilting it upwards. The red liquid pours into my mouth but not like any liquid I’ve ever drank before. Instead, it feels like a heavy smoke or fog that’s not quite air but isn’t liquid either. If it were a liquid, it would probably follow the path of my drool which has undoubtedly created a small puddle on the floor below.
Instead, this red “stuff” appears to have a mind of its own and seems to probe my mouth with its phantom-like hands. I feel it move slowly towards the back of my throat before working its way down, not into my stomach though, but into my heart. I feel as if icy fingers are clutching my beating organ, squeezing it, prodding it, and even freezing it. The sensation comes and goes rather swiftly but what follows takes much longer to end.
“I’m sure you’re feeling the potion taking hold” Grace mutters. Her words are in the back of my mind as I wriggle in my chair and chains. The sensation is spreading across my body as if I’m being frozen by a rapidly declining temperature. Even the warmth from her hair appears to vanish. There’s one area in my body where the sensation appears to impact most strongly: my cock. If you’ve ever gone into cold water, you’ll know the feeling that it causes on your genitals. That’s exactly what I’m feeling now and I clutch at my cock, doing everything I can to warm it up…but to no avail. By body shudders and shivers a few more times and then appears to return to normal.
“I suppose you’re probably a little bit curious as to what that was, am I right?” I nod my head in response to her question, finding that the sensation and movement is returning to my body. My ability to speak, however, still seems to be hindered.
“I could tell you…and I can assure you that I’d get quite a thrill out of doing so…but I think instead, it may be more fun to simply show you”. As the final word leaves her mouth, a door opens to my right that I hadn’t noticed before. Three figures emerge and stand right in front of me. Suddenly, I’m no longer sitting on a hard chair but I’m instead lying on a comfortable, warm bed. My ankles and wrists are still tied but by rope instead of chains.
I glance around the room and find myself lost for words, even more so than I was previously. To my left is Susan, a crush of mine who works in my local library. I’d never had the courage to speak to her but I’d often return my books on days that I knew she was working. She’s completely naked and her bright blue hair seemingly glows, lighting up her perfect, tattooed body which is covered in pop culture references and philosophical quotes. She’s staring deep into my eyes with a passionate, longing glare. She looks primal or animalistic, as if she’s preparing to pounce on a meal!
To my right is my ex-girlfriend, Lesley. Her supple body is also stark naked and her long, black hair is tied behind her head. Unlike Susan, I’d actually seen Lesley naked, many times. She’s staring at me in the same manner as she rubs a finger against her lips, sliding it past her lip piercing and inside her mouth, closing her eyes ever so slightly. We had ended things on pretty good terms but this all still seems a bit much!
I pull my attention away from her, worried about the consequences of getting too aroused in this situation. I look down towards the bottom of the bed and can’t believe my eyes. Standing there, squeezing both of bahis şirketleri her small yet firm tits is my old crush from high school. Unlike many of my peers, I wasn’t attracted to girls…I preferred women. Mrs Quill, my English teacher, had wandered into my mind during many of my hormone-addled teenage masturbation sessions. I always imagined her as a powerful, dominant woman who would find my young body so appealing. As I stare at her freckled face and light brown hair, I can’t help but notice that she doesn’t appear to have aged a single day. I mean it’s been at least 10 years since I last saw her. Her slender frame is exactly how I always imagined she would look naked. She lets out a slight moan as her hands squeeze her tits tightly, causing pleasure to wash over my body.
“You can sleep with all of these women…even at the same time, if you wish” Grace announces. I can’t see her but I can certainly hear her. “However, they can’t touch you and you can’t touch them until your cock is rock hard!”
I almost let out a chuckle in disbelief. Is that it? I just have to get hard? I’m probably hard already! I glance down at my surprisingly limp cock which is oozing precum by the bucket load. I might not be hard right this second but if there is one thing I can do well in life, it’s getting hard in an instant! I stare down at my cock and tense the muscles surrounding it, hoping to make it twitch a little…nothing.
“You better hurry up! These ladies are incredibly horny and they aren’t going to wait on you forever” Grace tells me again, the end of her sentence trailing off into a whisper that feels like it’s coming from inside my ear. I glance around and watch as these women, two of whom have only ever appeared like this to me in fantasies, begin to moan and rub their hands all over their bodies. I can feel the same sensation that usually signals my erection but it’s like it is lost. I feel wave after wave of pleasure cascading across my body…everywhere, except my cock.
“Please fuck me!” Susan moans to my left. There’s a slight rage or anger to her voice and the desperation is clearly written across her face. She’s already slid a finger inside her soaking wet pussy and I can hear the sloshing sounds as she finger fucks herself with it. “Please let me ride that big, hard cock of yours!” I glance down in hope but my cock is still completely limp and the frustration is beginning to set in. She tilts her head back and lets out loud, exaggerated moans. I notice her sliding a second finger inside herself with great ease. I can feel my balls tightening but there is still nothing happening with my cock.
“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?” Mrs Quill is crawling onto the end of the bed. She kneels there, towering over me, glaring down at my motionless cock. “I always expected better things from you! You were always my favourite student but now…” and with a sigh she too begins to play with her soaking wet pussy. I can see the drops of her juices running down the inside of her thigh as she flicks and massages her clit with two of her fingers. Her trimmed yet still rather full bush of pubic hair only serves to remind me how smooth the rest of her body truly is.
“You were the best lover I ever had” Lesley proclaims. She’s standing right next to me with one leg lifted up onto the bed. Just like the other two, her pussy is literally dripping wet and it’s so close to my face that I can feel the warmth and smell that familiar fragrance. “What happened?” she asks in a clearly disappointed and disapproving tone. I want to scream out to them all, I want to stroke my cock to make it hard and I want to beg Grace for some sort of antidote to this potion. What has she done to me? Will my cock be permanently limp?
The moans begin to echo all around me and as I pull as hard as I can against the ropes, I begin to come to terms with the fact that I can’t break free. If I could, I’d scream at the top of my lungs but I know that trying would be as successful as my attempts to get my cock hard. I can only glance around the room as the three women near their climactic resolution, while all I can is watch. My heart is racing and sweat is dripping down my body. This is quite literally the culmination of all my favourite fantasies and yet I can’t even act upon them. How can something so perfect be so torturous?
“Stop!” Grace’s voice echoes around the room and all the moans, all the fingering, all the sounds of skin hitting skin cease immediately. The three women seem as confused as I am. Grace approaches from the bottom of the bed, sliding her pale hand across the layer of sweat on Mrs Quill’s arm. Grace is completely naked and as she climbs up into the bed, standing tall above us all, I notice the groomed patch of fiery red pubic hair that directs all attention down towards her vagina. “I can help you cum…but there a price. Are you interested?”
I nod my head, pleading with my eyes for her to let me cum.
“Please let him cum!” Mrs Quill begs, staring up submissively at Grace.
“Yes, we’ll do anything, just let him cum in us and on us…we want his cum so badly!” My ex-girlfriend pleads, falling to her knees at the side of the bed.
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