anus ass clefspear consensual cowgirl_position dual_persona femdom hypnotized_dom hypnotized_rapist maledom malesub multiple_persona original penis sex story submissive_hypnotist trigger

3 comments (0 hidden)

Clefspear
>> #244110
Posted on 2018-04-03 00:17:38
Score: 0 (vote Up)
So, funny story. Remember how last time, I had so much text it almost crowded out the image? Well, buckle up, because this one ballooned into a 6 page short-story.


She was nervous.
“Dear, are you sure you want to try this?” She asked.
“Honey, I’ve read your browser history.” he said. “I know this is something you’ve been been fantasising about, and I am more than willing to help you explore it.”
“But...Dear I’ve seen your notes for this trigger. And I remember some of the programing-” she didn’t always remember what he told her in trance, but sometimes she could. “- It just seems…”
“What is it you’re afraid if?”, he asked her, his voice calm and gentle.
She looked down, shaking her head. They had been devoted practitioners of erotic hypnosis and trigger-play for years now. He had taken her under so often, and given her so many different triggers that she couldn’t imagine how he kept the complex map of her subconscious mind straight. (Even though she trusted completely that he did. Somehow.) And he was right, this particular scenario had featured heavily in her fantasies and “me-time” internet browsing for a long time. But she wasn’t worried about herself.
“I...I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, trembling slightly.
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting her face up so they were looking each other in the eye.
“Honey, you know better than I do that no matter what happens under a suggestion, it’s still you. And I trust you. And you’ve gone under for me enough times that I know you trust me. Do you want this?”
“Well, yes, but-”
“Then I want to give it to you,” he said, putting a finger to her lips. “Don’t worry about me. Not tonight. Tonight is all about you, your fantasy.”
She took his finger in her mouth and she bit it lightly. He tugged it free gently and cupped her cheek.
“See,” he said. “You’re already getting into character.”
“It still feels like I’m breaking some rule.” she said. “Subs don’t do what the girls in those stories do to their Masters.”
“We’re lovers first,” he said “And Master and Sub only after that. Besides, if you still feel bad about it, I can punish you later.”
“Do you promise?” she asked, pouting up at him.
“Cross my heart,” he said gamely.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she smirked.
He patted her head, petting her long, dark hair down the back of her neck just the way she liked.
“Feel better now? Ready to start?”
“Yeah,” she said, stepping back and taking a deep breath. “Go ahead.”
“Alright then,” he said, raising his right hand. He snapped his fingers and said in a commanding tone “She-Wolf”
In her experience, different triggers hit her in different ways. Some were like a reflex, her body simply doing something without her mind really realizing it was happening. Others snuck up on her like a heat wave, or the subtle buzz of alcohol. This was different. She felt the words hit her, fast and hard as a freight train. Something in her brain clicked off. And something else, something older, deeper, more primal, woke up.
Every muscle in her body tensed, whipcords standing out in her arms, her thighs, her shoulders and abs. Her knees bent, her weight moving to her toes. Her shoulders tightened and hunched. Her senses came alive. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up. The air felt cool and minty on her skin. The carpet was soft and rough under her bare feet. Her nostrils flared, the familiar room coming alive with new scents filling her flaring nostrils, and tastes playing across her tongue as she inhaled. Her gaze swept around the room, her bright eyes wide, seeming to see the world in sharper contrast and higher saturation. She revelled in this new presence of self, this new her for a moment. Then she noticed the other person in the room. When she saw him standing in front of her, a hot, dark wave swept the observations of her body’s reaction from her mind.
It wasn’t heat, or desire, or even lust. It was hunger. Aching and predatory and deep as a dark well. She needed him- she wanted him. And she would take what she wanted. She stalked toward him. Long, loping steps that carried her toward her target with willful determination.
He backed away from her, holding his hand up as if to hold her back, saying words she only dimly realized she couldn’t understand, though his intent was clear enough; he thought he could keep her from taking him. Anger flashed. Her lips pulled back from her teeth. She growled- actually growled! She hadn’t even known she could make a sound like that until the moment it came bubbling up from her throat. She prowled around him, maneuvering him so his back was to the bed. Then, crouching for only a split second, she poured every muscle in her body into a single leap, her growl sharpening into a hard barking sound off exaltation and attack.
She flew at him, clawed hands out, mouth open, teeth bared. He was taller than her, but not heavier, and not as strong. She hit him high, tumbling him onto his back on the bed. She pinned him under her, knees straddling his chest. She grabbed his throat in one hand, his hair in the other, and pulled his face up as she kissed him, hard and fierce, breath hissing through her nose as her lungs heaved and her heart screamed. She forced her tongue into his mouth, almost down his throat, invading him, claiming him. The hunger, far from easing, burned hotter in her blood, deepening into a feral, primal need.
Her mouth moved lower, down his chin and to his neck. He moaned and raised his chin, baring his throat to her. He raked her teeth over the hollow of his throat, feeling his fluttery, frightened pulse with her lips, like she could taste it. The hand on his neck went to the top of his shirt, hooked in and jerked hard. She tore the shirt down the middle, baring his chest. As she moved her mouth lower, following his pulse to his pounding heart, some tiny, lucid part of her mind that still cared about who she was or where or why or anything beyond the burning hunger in her core remarked that she wouldn’t have thought she could have torn a flannel shirt open one handed. That tiny part was completely ignored.
She moved lower. His head came up and he tried to move his hand from by his head to help her untie his pants. She snarled up at him and the hand went right back where she’d left it. She yanked at the top of the fly. The drawstring popped and a button flew across the room. She scrambled back up his body, reacquiring her grip on his throat and pinning his arms over his head with one hand to prevent further wandering and clawing at the top of his pants with her toes, dragging them down. No sooner was his hard cock free than she was rubbing herself against it, grinding the seat of her need into him. She couldn't get him inside. She needed him inside. The tiny, lucid bit of her at the back of her mind remembered she was still wearing her pajama shorts. Again, it was ignored.
She took the hand from his throat and used it to tear down and free herself of the hateful bit of fabric that had dared to delay her. Then she grabbed his hardness in her hand and, in one motion, sank herself down onto it.
The tiny lucid part shut down entirely.
She devolved into a bundle of clutching limbs, tangled black hair, and grunting, panting, motion. Her hands wandered over him, over her, holding, caressing, clawing. Sometimes she let his hands move too. Her breasts, her stomach, her hips. Once he tried grab her hips to slow her frantic, pounding rhythm. She snarled, slapped his hands aside and raked her nails over his chest. There was only one pace she’d accept: faster. She rode him, grunting with animal sounds of need and pleasure. She wanted it. Wanted his seed. Why wasn’t it coming? She needed it. Now! She’d take it -tear it from him if she had to!
She felt him shudder under her and her blood sang in expectant exaltation. She felt his heat explode into her and threw her head back, howling in victory. The feeling of his climax set of her own. It hit her like nothing she had ever felt before, racking her whole body with sweet, white fire as lightning danced up her spine. She curled down over him, in on herself, whimpering and mewling under the endless waves. She bit into his shoulder. Her eyes screwed shut.
When it was over, she collapsed on top of him in a panting heap. The hunger was gone, leaving her mewling in a sea of soft, warm contentment. He moved under her, nuzzling the top of her head with his cheek, his hand reached up and petted her hair down the back of her neck, just the way she liked. That thought made her realize she was coming back to herself.
She blinked awake, looking up at him, bleary eyes going wide as saucers, her mouth hanging open in a mixture of wonder and shock. He smiled down at her.
“Hello to you too, ma’am.” he laughed.
“No way.” she said. “That can’t have happened. I couldn’t have- Just no way.”
“Oh, it happened.” He said. “I’ve got the red marks to prove it. What was it like? Can you remember it all?”
“I think so, yeah.” she said. “It was...strong. I felt fast, and powerful, and it was like I could just take you. I remember thinking of it like that. Taking you. Like you were mine and I was making sure you knew it. And I knew you couldn’t stop me. I felt scary. And I loved it.”
“Scary,” he said. “Yeah, that’s one word for it I guess.”
“I’m sorry.” she said, burying her face in his chest, suddenly on the verge of tears. “I shouldn’t have gone so far. I should have woken myself up. I was too lost in it and-”
He pulled her up, level with him, and kissed her, softly, tenderly. There was no heat in it, nothing of sex or carnality. Just soft, simple, pure love.
“I liked it,” he said. “And more importantly, you loved it. It’s OK. You didn’t hurt me, I didn’t mind being a little frightened for a bit, and I think that’s the part that really lit a fire in you. Remember when I tried to back you off?”
“I growled at you,” she said giggled, blushing hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“And it was hot as hell,” he said. “So...do you think you’d want to try it again? Not now, I’m still sore, and I think we both need a little TLC, but I’m game to make this a regular part of our play if you are.”
“I don’t know,” she said, though she knew the lazy grin warming her face gave away that she absolutely wanted to try it again. “I told you Subs aren’t supposed to act like that with their Masters. I know you said I shouldn’t worry about it, but I like being your Sub. I love being your Sub.”
“I think you’re forgetting best part of those stories you like,” he said.
“What part is that?”
“The part,” he said, “where the firm, strong Master conquers and tames the savage little vixen, despite all her struggles and protestations.”
She shivered against him, imagining it.
“That,” she sighed into his ear, pausing to nip at his earlobe “Would be delicious.”


Also funny story, remember how last time I said I wasn't going to connect these in any way and that they were all one-shots? Well, if you didn't catch the hook there at the end, there's better than even money this one's getting a sequel.

Ambipend
>> #244142
Posted on 2018-04-03 02:11:34
Score: 0 (vote Up)
Clefspear said:
Also funny story, remember how last time I said I wasn't going to connect these in any way and that they were all one-shots? Well, if you didn't catch the hook there at the end, there's better than even money this one's getting a sequel.


That sounds great, I really liked this story.

MonsieurChuchote
>> #244238
Posted on 2018-04-03 06:08:54
Score: 0 (vote Up)
I'll be awaiting that sequel with bated breath. Really well-written, hot and romantic at once, and I'd love to see that wild animal tamed.

1