Touch Lick Stroke Mount

Epic Butts

Jameela Jamil

Siouxsie Sioux

Librarian

Therapy Session

Please, come in. Have a seat. It's good to see you again.

I was looking at our records recently and see that you've been coming to see me for six months now and I don't think that my usual approach has been working. You seem as stunted and depressed now as you did then.

That leads me to wonder if you'd be up to trying a more ambitious form of treatment; hypnotherapy.

If you're game, I'll just go ahead and dim a few of the lights. I'm just going to turn around my clock so you can see it. I want you to look at the second hand. You see the way it moves back and forth ticking off the seconds? Good. That's what I want you to look at as you listen to my voice. All right?

Now, I'm going to talk to you and I need you to just listen to my voice and let my words wash over you; to flow through you.

The most important thing I need you to do right now is to relax. Breathe in through your mouth and out through your nose. Nice and easy. With each breath you're going to feel more and more relaxed. You'll feel the muscles in your neck getting looser. You'll feel your arms feeling like they're just dead weights hanging to your sides. You'll feel your legs getting heavier.

If your eyes get heavy you can close them. Just think about that second hand ticking away. Each time that hand moves from side to side you'll get even more relaxed. You'll feel like you're just sinking right back into the couch. The soft material just enveloping you. Your body getting more relaxed. With each breath. With each word from my lips. Deeper you go.

Down and down and down... Until the worries of the world just drift away. Until there's nothing left but the sound of my voice.

When I snap my fingers, you will be completely under. You will be able to speak to me from the place deep inside you that you've never shown anyone else. It will just be you and I, no judgement, no fear, no worry.

Three... two... one... >snap<

Nod your head if you can hear me. Very good.

We're now in the place you never show anyone. This is where your secrets live. Just like the clock, I think I know what makes you tick but I think you've been too afraid to tell me. Too proud. Too manly. You're living under expectations of what make you you.

Each week you come in here and tell me about how difficult things are for you but it all comes down to one central premise, doesn't it? Isn't it that you're not being honest with yourself? Isn't there something inside of you that means you've been living a lie every day?

You're hiding from yourself. From the real you. I think you're ready to meet the real you. I think it's time you saw what you really are. What you really look like. What really makes you tick... tock... tick...

When I count to three and snap my fingers, you're going to open your eyes and see the person you really are. You're going to look in the mirror next to me and see exactly who you've been denying. It may be scary but there's nothing to worry about. It's just you and me... even if it looks like there's another person in the room, it's just the two of us together right now. Do you understand? Good.

One... two... three. >snap:lt; Open your eyes.

Do you see her? Do you see the pretty girl? That's you. That's the girl that lives inside of you. She's the girl you've been denying.

Look at her. Look at her face. See her pretty mouth? Those lovely eyes? The soft hair that frames her face? She's the girl that has lived in you for so long; since you were a little boy. Now you're a man and she's a woman. She's been with you every step of the way. You've been hiding her from everyone but now it's time to finally bring her out and look at her. Meet her. Understand who she is and what she needs.

Stand up.

Look at her body. Your body. See the curves. See the way her breasts fill out her blouse. Your blouse. Look at her hips. Your hips. See her legs under her skirt. Your skirt. She's lovely. You're lovely. Why have you been hiding her so long? I know why. You were afraid of her. Afraid to even acknowledge that she was there. But she is. She's here with us now. And she's beautiful. More than that, she's been trying to get out for so long.

You've been frustrated with so many things in your life. Have you ever thought that this may come from the internal struggle? This girl has been in you for all these years, waiting to see the light of day, but you've been afraid of what might happen if she came out. Well, she's out now, isn't she? And you're okay. You're safe.

I want you to touch her. Run your hands up her sides. Warm. Run your hands along her arms. Smooth. Touch her face. Soft. Slide your hands down over her bottom. Squeeze. Now bring your hands up over her stomach. Flat. Up to the swell of her breasts. Lovely.

Those are your breasts. Your stomach. Your bottom. Your face. Your arms. Your sides. All of her... you.

There's one more place I need you to feel. Reach down between your legs now. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Slide your fingers inside of your skirt. Down under the elastic of your panties. Down over the downy hairs. Yes. You are a girl. There's nothing there between your legs that you had before. You're free of that burden. But, instead, you can feel the folds of flesh, the wetness, the warmth of your pussy.

No, no... don't cry pretty girl. It's all right. I know it's a lot for you to take in. It's okay. I'm here. I'll help you deal with this. I've known since the day we met that you had this girl inside of you and I hoped I could introduce you to her in a slightly less dramatic way but you were resistant to everything. But.. seeing is believing... and I see that you haven't taken your hand out of your panties yet.

It feels good, doesn't it? Tell me how good your pussy feels. Put your fingers inside of yourself. Open your pretty, painted mouth and breathe. Smell your excitement. Did you ever think you'd smell that good? Did you ever think you'd feel as good? As free? As pretty? Because you feel pretty, don't you? I know you do.

Think about it... think about how pretty you can feel if you let your inner girl out. She wants to come out more often. She wants to play. She's been hidden for so long and she's so horny, isn't she?

Feel the way your pussy grips at your fingers. That poor pussy's been neglected for so long. Slide your fingers over that hard nubbin and feel how good you can make yourself feel.

That girl needs to cum, doesn't she? After all these years, just imagine how frustrated she is. Just imagine how much she needs release. Look at her there in the mirror and watch how her mouth works, opening and closing, gasping for breath. Look at the way her breasts strain against her blouse. Feel how hard her nipples are getting. Your nipples. Feel how wet her pussy is. Your pussy. Feel her orgasm building. Your orgasm. Yes, own it. Own what a sexy bitch you are. Own how bad you need to cum. Own who you are and know that I can bring this girl out of you whenever I need her to be.

From now on, whenever I say, "Bring out the girl," and snap my fingers, you will shed all of your masculinity and let me see this girl. You'll see her as well... And, if you're good. I will let you make yourself cum just like you're doing now.

When I count to three you will cum for me. You'll orgasm as a girl for the first time.

One... two... three. >snap<

Now, sit back down. Close your eyes. And just breathe for me.

Good.

I will now bring you back to consciousness. When I snap my fingers you will forget what's happened here but you will know that it was good. The next time you feel those feelings of frustration, I want you to call me. Do you understand? Good.

One... two... three. >snap<

That's it. Open your eyes. That was a very good session. Did anything happen? No, no. It was just an experiment to see if you were even capable of being hypnotized. We can try this again next week and maybe we'll make some progress. Does that sound good? Excellent.

Well, it looks like our time is up for the week. Make sure to make an appointment on the way out and I'll see you soon.

Zazie Beetz

Moon Girl

Cheesecake

Shanghai Surprise - Follow-up

A few weeks ago I wrote about my time in Shanghai. There's a lot of things on this site that are fictional -- I try to mark those as "fantasy" -- but there are some very real things too. I've written about my past with some brutal honesty -- or as honest as I can handle.

Elena is based very much on a real person and that story was nearly 100% true.

As I write this, my heart is breaking. It's been a little over six months since I've seen Elena and she told me yesterday that she's started seeing other people.

The thing is, I shouldn't be angry or upset about this. I didn't want her wasting her life in Shanghai waiting for me to come back as I'm still not sure that I will. I've applied to over 500 jobs (not exaggerating) since I left without any luck. I've also been trying my best to finagle another trip back via my current employer.

I made an agreement with Elena that I would come back to the U.S., work on my marriage, and try to salvage my relationship here. And, I've been trying. I've been going to couple's counseling since January though not much has changed. Elena was my planned escape route. I told her and I told myself that I'd give my relationship with my wife six months and if things hadn't improved that I'd file for divorce.

Elena didn't wait the full six months. I could tell a few weeks ago that things had changed between us. Then yesterday she told me that she'd been dating for the last month. So now I feel betrayed and hurt, though I really shouldn't. What's worse is that I don't have anyone to talk to about this. I made a promise to Elena that I wouldn't tell my therapist about her. I only ever told one friend about her and I don't feel right dumping all over them.

So now I'm alone with my feelings for the most part. As I drove home last night, listening to my "teach yourself Chinese" CD, I started crying and couldn't stop.

Now I have no reason to go back to China. All of the plans and hopes that I had have been dashed.

I feel awful.

Night Night

The crash of thunder work him. He lay in the dark, watching the light show outside through his window, counting the seconds between the flashes and the inevitable crackle of thunder; sometimes not even a second would pass before the trailing boom which seemed to shake his room.

He wouldn't let the storm upset him. He pulled his legs up to his chest as he lay on his side. And that was when he began to feel the stirrings in his stomach that he'd only just started to welcome. At first, a few months ago, they scared him. Now they were his seemingly-constant companion. He didn't know what to call them yet but he began to recognize them as they faintly brushed passed him. He initially pushed them away, afraid, but now he embraced them. They fluttered inside him, sending electricity through him, like the lightning that flashed outside.

He pictured a hydrant being opened and the way water flowed into a firehose, making it taut. That's what was happening to his penis, the blood flowing in, making him hard. And, along with the mental picture of the firehose, he began getting glimpses of other things that pleased him, though sometimes they upset him. The one image that wouldn't abate was that of his mother when he saw her the week before coming out of the shower on her way to his parents' bedroom. The towel hadn't been closed all the way and had dropped while she moved down the hallway. He saw his mother's full form, her bare breasts, her long legs, and the triangle of hair below her stomach. It only lasted for a few seconds before she hurriedly gathered the towel around her front and disappeared into the bedroom but it left an indelible impression. And one that he contemplated down as his hand crept down between his legs to feel the small hardness that tented his pajama bottoms.

He closed his eyes, the external flashes of the lightning fading now to the internal images of his mother, he became as small as an insect and walked along her skin, looking at her pores, seeing the bumps around her nipples, traipsing among the hair below her belly... and wanting to wander farther, unsure of what awaited him there.

Lost in his revelry, he didn't hear the small click as the bedroom door opened. It wasn't until the mattress shifted that he startled to his senses. The scent of his mother's perfume made him wonder if he was still inside his head or not.

"Honey, I'm sorry to wake you," she said, her voice seeming to come from everywhere in the dark. "The storm woke me up and I too scared to stay in that big bed all alone."

She moved close to him and he panicked, feeling like his penis stuck out in front of him a full yard or more.

She moved her back toward him, facing away from the sound of her voice, and before he could move, her leg brushed against his penis which had come out of the slit in his pajamas.

His breath caught on his throat. He felt his face flush with wild embarrassment and shame. He just wanted his mother to fall asleep and he would lay next to her all night, smelling her, and thinking about her.

But... did he imagine it...? He felt her leg move again against him. Not a brush this time. It felt... deliberate. Was she just getting settled in? Or... was it something else?

There it was again. He felt a rather rhythmic rub from her bare leg against his erection. He couldn't stop himself when a small moan came up from his stomach.

"You like that, baby?" he heard his mother whisper. "My little boy's growing up."

He felt the mattress shift again as his mother rolled over to face him. He missed the touch of her leg but a new sensation replaced it, the cool play of her fingers contrasted the heat that built now between his legs.

"This was hard when I got in here... So I didn't wake you up, did I?"

He muttered a small no, his breath still eluding him as he felt her hand grip him tighter.

"What were you thinking of that got you so excited, honey?"

The burning in his cheeks only intensified, he felt almost sure that his face glowed in the dark.

"Was it a girl at school?" She grabbed him, waiting for a response to her question from his erection.

"Was it your teacher?" Nothing happened.

"Was it a neighbor?" Nothing.

"Was it me?" He groaned and his little hard-on jumped in his mother's grasp.

"Oh, honey..." she said sounding at once disappointed and flattered.

"It's natural for a boy to feel that way about his mother." She began stroking him again, gently but firmly.

"And, honey, if I'm to be completely honest... I think I knew that."

He felt something push against his face and instinctively opened his mouth, only to find his mother's breast waiting there. He felt her nipple harden under his tongue and he moaned again.

"Yes, baby, take Mommy's breast into your mouth again." She grasping him harder, her passion beginning to wax.

He was awash with strange sensations and conflicting feelings. Somewhere in the primitive part of his brain he realized that this was wrong but the rest of his mind was flooded in hormones, washing away any hesitation as he begin moving his hips in time with his mother's hand, thrusting and wanting desperately to do more.

"Do you like this, baby? Then you'll love what's next..." She pushed him away, leaving him disappointed -- his mouth now empty and his hard-on exposed. He lay on his back and could make out the curves of his mother kneeling on the bed next to him. He wasn't sure exactly what she did as she put a leg across him. He felt something wet on the head of his penis and felt his mother's hand again.

Before he could even tell what was going on, he suddenly felt his penis engulfed in something warm, wet, and greedy. He knew instinctively that he was inside of his mother. She gasped and then moaned as she adjusted to position herself so she could begin moving her hips up and down on him. He couldn't help but cry out as he experienced feelings he'd never had before.

She became an animal, losing her ability to speak. Instead, she grunted her approval as she fucked her son. The wet sloppy sounds of their skin smacking together filled the room before being buried by her groans. She knew what she wanted and was taking it.

She looked down at her son, seeing him look as he's never done before, seeing lust on his face for the first time, lust for her. Seeing him there, beneath her, his month open, his eyes half-shut, gasping for breath, set her over the edge.

She collapsed on top of him, feeling his mouth finding a breast and latching on again. She laid there, allowing him to suckle until she could regain her composure.

"Now," she said, "Show me what you can do, baby." She moved next to him and put a hand on his crotch. "Show me what you do when you think of Mommy..."

His face burned as he laid next to her, masturbating in front of his mother, suckling on her breasts while his hands worked his cock. "Yes," she whispered, "Show me you're a big boy for Mommy..."

When he came, she put her hand out to catch his ejaculation before moving it to his mouth. The panic on his face subsided when she shushed him, feeding him his cum.

"You'll learn to like that, baby. And soon you'll want to have it from you and from others... but let's not get ahead of ourselves... Now, baby, we'll get a little sleep and do this again in the morning..."

Shivers

Her eyes may be closed but I can't tell because a blindfold covers them.

Her hands are balled up in fists below her cuffs. Rope goes around her waist, keeping her arms secured at her side.

She's on a wooden chair. Her legs are spread wide, rope around her knees and back through the legs of the chair, keeping them open.

She's got a plug secured in her ass. I always like the noises she makes when I slide it inside her. I like making her feel violated.

Except for the rope and blindfold, she's naked. I'm not.

The room is cool. It's that time of the year where you never know what the weather will be like when you wake up. We're in transition.

I sit behind her on the edge of the bed.

My fingers are chillier than her skin and brushing them against her nipples makes her flinch before she tries to arch her back to meet them.

I just touch her at first. Then I start to speak.

I don't know where the words come from. It's as if someone else is using my voice. What I say can even surprise me and it definitely surprises her.

I feel her flinch. I feel her get hotter. I feel her pussy get wetter. I watch her visibly shudder.

I whisper in her ear and my fingers trail along her skin. I'm playing her like an instrument, breathing my dirty thoughts into her and making her body react.

She moans, whimpers, cries out. She squirms, fighting the bonds, wanting it to end, wanting it to go on forever.

I make her cum again and again until she begs for mercy but her body betrays that she wants it some more.

When I leave she has been untied and laid on the bed. I've given her water. I've given her cuddles. I've slid the plug back out of her ass. I've used my fingers like combs and pulled the sweat-soaked hair from her forehead.

I cover her and go. It's been a good afternoon.