getting hypnotized is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off
taylor price

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@heliiiotrope
getting hypnotized is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off
looking over your shoulder as you send me something only to realize that my name in your phone is "fleshlight" and getting so turned on i nearly pass out
Condition me into thinking your orgasms are mine. I don't actually get to come but if you keep me denied for so long and mess with my brain enough it will break and the only thing I'll crave is making you come because I forgot what real orgasms feel like ♡
Those Two Denial Mistakes
You began it as an idle game. You had read something about denial on the internet and the idea took root in the fertile soil of your lusty little mind. Something about relinquishing control, or being controlled.
So you decided you wanted to try it. You considered sitting me down and explaining it. Direct, honest communication. Perhaps even showing me some of those websites you’d stumbled across and kept going back to, helplessly, to gaze at the expressions on their faces, to re-read those stories of the frustration and what it began to do to their bodies and their minds.
Instead, though, you decided to be sneaky about it. Were you ashamed? Nervous of rejection? Or was it just that you thought our relationship wasn’t like that? Perhaps too vanilla to risk destabilising it with some weird, perverted request. Perhaps you feared driving me away
Whatever it was, it meant you had to sidle up to the issue.
At first you tried dropping hints. “I’m nearly there,” you’d moan, as you got closer. And then: “I’m too close!” Not I’m close but I’m too close, hoping I’d pick up on your inflection. But I just took that to mean I was going a good job. And so I’d tip you over every time.
Then there was that time I was caressing you, stroking you closer and closer. You began to shiver in anticipation, then you caught my eye and whispered: “May I come?” and bit your lip. And I said: “Of course!” Perhaps I even sounded surprised. How frustrating that must have been for you.
In the end it was purely by accident that I realised. I’d been idly playing with you one morning. You basically gave up on your plan for denial, right then, and instead decided to relax into the pleasure and simply explode. Something about my lack of enthusiasm combined with your acceptance meant that you were right there on the edge for much longer that usual. But getting closer, so very much closer. You felt yourself tipping and-
Then the doorbell rang.
I stopped, took my hand away from you and you had what we now know is a ruin. But then, it was a first for the both of us. The way your eyes snapped open and stared at me with surprise, with agony, with frustration. The mewling wail that escaped your throat, a sound I’d never heard you made before, torn from deep inside. The shivering of your limbs as you felt that single, pathetic pulse of pleasure that trickled away like water through fingers.
I have to say, it make an impression upon me. And as I walked away to answer the door and glanced back to see you there, sheened in perspiration, mouth open, watching me leave, I remembered it…
The trouble was, you made two serious mistakes.
The first was that you really had no idea how deep inside you those roots of denial had penetrated, how fertile the soil of you needy, greedy imagination was. All that time you had spent fantasising about giving someone else control of your pleasure, your arousal and your release, had been time allowing those slow threads of that fantasy to grow. And those urges are deep and primal.
All that time you spent stroking yourself, getting aroused and letting your thoughts idly drift in the direction of denial, you had begun to associate the very physiological responses of arousal with denial.
In many, the promise of a shuddering release is the thing that stiffens their nipples, swells the sensitive skin between their legs, the very idea of racing towards climax. But those who crave denial, the wicked, deliciously kinked idea of having that release denied them, stolen from them by someone else, only to make them weaker and more pliable? Well, that is the itch that makes them want to scratch.
By masturbating to that very thought, you were conditioning yourself to associate arousal with tantalising disappointment. So when you got that first actual, real, physical taste of it – even by accident – of course it was overwhelming.
To have someone else stroking your most sensitive places always feels better. To have someone else stroke you closer to that enticing edge … and then for them to stop. Oh God, it was a fantasy coming true. A fantasy you had been entertaining for so long. No wonder it was so powerful. That first time, after so long anticipating in your imagination, it was if a switch had flipped in your brain. You couldn’t go back. And although you didn’t know it at the time, you were caught in a trap of your own making.
The second mistake you made, the entirely unforeseeable mistake – the mistake that became your downfall – was underestimating how addictive it would be for me.
I’m going to be honest, I had heard about the idea. And the thought of almost giving someone an orgasm but then … not? Well, I thought it was crazy.
Until I saw the effects.
That very first time I pulled my hand from you, that expression on your face became etched into my mind. That surprise. That desperation.
So the second time wasn’t an accident. That was entirely my choice. I wanted to see what it would do to you, to get you all the way to the edge and then stop.
If the first time, that accidental time, was the moment you realised how weak and helpless you were against the effects of denial, the second time was when you realised the absolute power you had given me.
That second time, I was looking right into your eyes when I stopped touching you. When I whispered: “No, I don’t think so. Not this time.” The expression on your face was priceless. Surprise, then raw physical desperation, then a hint of arousal … and then something else. A realisation, perhaps tinged with a little fear but also a little excitement, that I got it.
That I understood.
And it was then that you were lost.
Even thereafter, for a time, you were still shy – perhaps yet unsure I would accept this side of you. But something had changed in me, too. I took charge. I began to experiment. And each time I assured you the experiment would end and that that time would be the time we would take a break, that I would allow you release, and then changed my mind at the last moment and left you short, I saw you accept our new roles more. And that aroused me.
Every moan of frustration, every writhingly dissatisfied conclusion to your stimulation dropped you deeper and deeper into my control, helplessly carried further by your own long rooted self-programmed arousal at this process. Oh God, you hated how you loved it. Each day without release making the next more of a challenge but more of a triumph. And I was so good at it, teasing you forward with a finger between your legs, the lightest touch, whispering in your ear how good it would feel to come this time, how much of a reward it would be having gone for so long. And then I would give you a ruin and you would cry out in dissatisfaction, at the unfairness after being so good.
And I would tempt you further, draw you into deals, have you make pacts, obey me more and more deeply for the promise of release that became a ruin, or the promise of a ruin that was just an edge, or even just the promise of a single touch. Weaker and weaker you became, more and more compliant, throbbing, frustrated, grateful.
How far we have come. It’s been longer than you can remember. You have become what you darkly fantasised about for so long. Just a hopeless, eager little thing, so desperate to please, so responsive to even the faintest touch now, a stroke upon your sensitive neck, a breath upon your tingling flesh.
And the real secret? The thing I’m sure you fantasised about, although by now you have probably forgotten, living as you are in the moment, from touch to touch, edge to edge, is that this utterly desperate, mindless, helpless state of denial that sees you curl about my feet like a contented kitten, happy just to feel my fingers stroking your hair, this entire state is just the beginning.
Now you are this obedient and conditioned, your real training begins.
a couple years ago a guy started fingering me front row at a concert, and late at night i regret moving away from him. wish i let him keep playing with me... maybe more people would've joined in and helped him by holding my arms back? or forcing me to my knees. using my hands and mouth as they were meant to be used. making sure I put on a good show for the artist on stage
ID: Two screenshots. The first is of a picture of a blue and yellow sex toy. It's a rectangular grinder, shaped like a mass of tentacles, with space for straps.
The second screenshot is of a pink rectangular grinder which is shaped like two jellyfish with four straps.
Really fascinated by some of the fantasy-type grinders I've discovered online. Grinders are a really interested sex toy with so much potential that I rarely see people talk about but obviously some people are getting creative AF with them. And I love it!
Grabbing her bunny ears and fucking her mouth.
i wish love potions were real for kink purposes
like imagine taking a sip of a potion and your head goes fuzzy and you find yourself in someone's arms. and your whole body is filled with this burning passion for them
I ❤️gossip I ❤️eavesdropping I ❤️asking nosy questions I❤️ looking for and acquiring information. On account of my curious and inquisitive nature #mynature
Bobby's Half of the Conversation
"Um, well, uhh, yeah, I--I guess." Bobby didn't remember exactly what he was agreeing with, but the mellow pulses of pleasure that radiated out from his stiff prick were so nice and soothing that he didn't feel like he particularly had to remember. Megan was taking care of that part of the conversation, all the big smart words and important thinking stuff, and Bobby was just stroking lazily up and down his hard shaft while his expression drifted into amiable indifference and his gaze fixated on the windchimes just outside Megan's window. It felt a little odd to be jacking off in front of his sister's best friend, but Megan had already taken care of that, too.
"Yeah, no, sure, that makes… um, sense." The words that made so much sense when he heard them were already fading from Bobby's mind by the time he finished answering Megan, and all that really stuck in his head was something about not cumming. Which, yeah, he probably shouldn't be jacking off in front of a woman he'd known since they were in middle school together until he spurted hot sticky jizz all over his chest and belly, but Bobby felt a little bit befuddled trying to figure out how the whole issue had come up in the first place. Every time he tried, he felt another surge of pleasure that sent a gush of precum out of the tip of his prick and onto his stroking fingers, and that made it impossible to concentrate so Bobby just stopped trying.
"What, um, uhhh… yeah. Sure. Whatever you say." Agreeing with Megan sent another swell of pleasure all the way down from his stupefied brain straight into the tip of his penis, and Bobby was actually kind of grateful to her for reminding him not to cum because he was pretty sure he would have lost his nut by now if left to his own devices. He felt a little bit sheepish about that--Bobby wasn't exactly the intellectual type at the best of times, and the boiling tension in his heavy balls was making him feel downright stupid with lust--but he didn't need to worry about it. Megan was taking care of all the smart stuff for him, so he could just stroke himself dumber and… and deeper? Bobby's brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to puzzle out what that meant.
"Yeah. Deeper," he found himself mumbling, as the challenging concept proved too much for his sluggish and feeble wits. It was simply too hard to think and stroke at the same time, and if Bobby had the choice he knew which he'd rather be doing. Not that he exactly felt like he had much of a choice about anything anymore, but that was fine because Megan was making all the right decisions for him and he could simply sit back, relax, and let his brain lapse into indolent bliss. Bobby's furrowed brow smoothed back out into placid euphoria as his jaw slackened, and if he noticed himself drooling a little bit he didn't really feel like he had the energy to try and stop it. He just wanted to… to obey.
"Yes. I obey." That was a truly wonderful word, Bobby thought absently, although increasingly it was hard to call what he was doing 'thinking' in any meaningful sense of the word. He was stroking, he was smiling, and he was agreeing like a good boy, and it felt so good to be a good boy that Bobby never wanted to stop. His eyes glazed over until Megan's windchimes were a rainbow shimmer in his unfocused gaze, and he sank ever deeper into hypnotized fascination as Megan told him what he needed to do to be a better slave for her.
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This is why I don’t have full length scrying mirrors in my house…although it would be fun 😈
Hypnosis cant make you do anything you dont really want.
That is somewhat true and widely known by now.
And you banked on that as well when you wrote me to be hypnotized.
You have already lurked for months and years on my blog and finally got the courage to write me.
We talked a lot at first, but it always became sexual quite fast.
Maybe because of my blog, maybe because of tumblr, maybe because of your cunt or maybe all of it together.
You knew you wouldnt be able to made anything you dont want to.
The only problem with it was you wanted no control.
You wanted to feel controlled.
And that opened a slippery slope.
You cant be made to do anything you dont want to.
But what happens when you dont want to have control and want to feel controlled?
Now that is always such a good loophole for certain programming and training.
You never thought about that before, did you?
Well, for the next hours you wont be thinking much.
As your cunt is going to do that for you.
And we will have a lot of fun with your mind.
But dont worry, you arent left out.
During the whole time you are going to feel pleasure.
And not a single worry or even thought is going to cross your mind.
And we know you want that.
Because hypnosis cant make you do anything you dont want to.
Being controlled without realizing is so hot. Opening a file sent to me only to wake up hours later with no clues to what I was doing other than a wet spot on my seat. Having triggers implanted subconciously so I don't understand why I've suddenly dropped to the floor with my mouth opened, trying to figure out why I feel urged to follow someone's every command. I just need to be corrupted to do every humilating task asked of me until I'm nothing but a dumb puppy.
Let's go out to dinner