Sexual Immersion Therapy
Chapter Eighteen
Deviant possibilities hovered around me like ghosts for the rest of my work day, and they were practically howling in my ears by the time I showed up at Dee’s door. She embraced me as soon as I stepped inside and we kissed almost politely, any ionate impulses placed on hold for the time being. At my urging Dee poured us both some wine, and it was no surprise that I had a difficult time tearing my eyes away from the remarkable curvature of her body. She was barely showing any skin at all, but black jeans were snug around her ass and thighs, her tits distorting the geometry of a patterned form-fitting blouse.
I knew I was going into this hypnotic encounter without anything that resembled a well thought-out plan. Plenty of ideas had bubbled up in the late afternoon and evening, but I hadn’t had time to think them all through. I liked being able to see several steps ahead, as with the dominoes that had successfully toppled into Mira, but fucking around under the cover of assuaging Dee’s fear of flying was going to be a case of—no pun intended—winging it.
I encouraged her to drink half a glass of wine before I explained the immersion technique. I sketched the details of my training and provided a couple of examples of how I was incorporating the technique into my practice. She asked a few questions and I explained that if we were going to quiet her fears about flying on short notice like this, I needed her to describe to me, as specifically as she could, where those fears stemmed from.
She did not have an enlarged fear of heights. She could go hiking in the mountains and had been on the observation decks of several tall buildings, no problem. It was all about the possibility of crashing in a plane, that the images from the Fearless movie had seared into her. With a series of questions and responses we got to what felt like the heart of it—Dee had healthy fears of situations that could lead to death, but the enlarged sense of terror was about physical disfigurement, particularly burning.
She told me she could never watch war movies, or popular series like Game of Thrones. When a former boyfriend had insisted she keep her eyes open and witness a movie battle scene that resulted in a character’s decapitation, she had ended the relationship immediately afterwards. Portrayals of people on fire were the worst, but she couldn’t even take violence or dismemberment that was played for laughs, as in Monty Python and the The Holy Grail.
The former boyfriend must have been one dumb fuck, losing his access to a woman like Dee by unnecessarily pushing at a gaping sore spot. Her phobia made a kind of sense to me—she made her living off of her physical beauty, and it sounded like her mother had hammered in the need to preserve that beauty. I didn’t say it out loud, but Dee’s concerns about sunlight aging the skin were very related to her fears about her flesh being burned—multiply the process of sunburn a few thousandfold and you had the human body melting from aviation fuel. Her phobia didn’t run so deep that she couldn’t get in a car, but trap her in the belly of a plane with no ability to see what was coming, and all that jet fuel ready to ignite if something went wrong…
“Dee, tell me that you want to be able to cope with this phobia, and we’ll get you there. It will likely take several hypnotic sessions and we have good timing there—tomorrow is my day for office work, no appointments. I’ll stay with you tonight if you want and we can go at this multiple times tomorrow. I’ll even drive you to the airport on Thursday, okay? We’ll get you to your destination.”
The way she looked at me, I could tell I was going to receive a thank-you tit-job or blow-job later on, or maybe we’d finally use one of the condoms.
“Shall we get to it?” I asked.
She didn’t signal agreement; in fact, she looked reticent, or even depressed. “Have you thought this through? I want this, but if your hypnotism works and I get on that plane, and then things go well…”
“You might need to spend a good deal of time on the other side of the continent, or even move there. And that makes a relationship with me less likely.”
She had hinted at this wrinkle earlier on the phone, having no idea that I’d been dreading having to break things off because of Mira. Having Dee away for even a handful of days would actually be a blessing, especially if I got to insert grappling hooks inside her psyche.
“Things have happened so fast with us, Michael, so much faster than any relationship I’ve ever been in. I’m not complaining; I’ve been breathless with it and feeling really happy. But now, with this… I need to pursue the opportunity if I can, but then there’s you to think about. You told me about your last relationship, how she moved away and that marked the end of things…”
This was nothing at all like my relationship with Joyce, especially when I pictured Dee lying on her couch in front of me, consciously vacant and subconsciously malleable, like putty in my hands.
“Dee, it’s pretty obvious that you’ve missed out on other acting opportunities because of this phobia. True?”
She nodded.
“Then this is bigger than what happens with us. Your fear of flying is a problem that’s been holding you back for years. It will plague you until it’s been addressed, and I know I can help with it.”
“But you, me…”
“We’ve known one another for just a few days. What we are could turn out to be a short-term relationship or a lifetime together—it’s far too early for us to know. Your career aims need to come first. I get that and I’m okay with it.”
She let out a deep breath and confessed that for her, our relationship so far was like falling into a whirlwind. She’d been thinking that she might need a time-out just to assess her feelings, because things had never become so sexual so rapidly for her. In response to a couple of questions I got her to go further with that—she wondered whether I might be more highly sexed than she was, my libido operating at a “higher pitch”. Apparently that was a known problem with people in the acting profession—sometimes gigs had the actor away on location for many weeks, and if the one left behind tended to get horny more quickly, it almost never worked out.
A problem of that nature seemed easily resolvable to me, as long as I got Dee in the immersion state. I could greatly increase her sexual motor to match mine, or maybe even switch it on and off as needed. Besides, once I was bonking Mira, I might not want Dee around anyway.
But none of that showed on the surface. Instead, I held Dee’s hands and said words that needed to be said, about her having the courage to follow her dreams, and to trust wherever that led. If we were meant to be long-term, as lovers or more, then we would be no matter what happened.
She hugged me, and laughed a sad laugh. “Could a woman ask for a better attitude from a guy? You’re just… You’re the best, Michael.”
The best conniving hypnotist? Or maybe my new lifestyle had me in the acting profession too, and I was getting better at it every day.
“Let’s do this,” I said, gesturing to the couch.
Lying on her back as directed, she rested one hand upon the other at her waist, her breasts prominent. I knew in that instant—as if I hadn’t been thinking of this the entire time—that yes, I would help her with her fear of flying, but this was going to be sexual immersion therapy first and foremost.
Guiding her consciousness inward, I felt very optimistic about how far I could shape my future with Dee. She was attracted to me and she trusted me enough to be doing this, and we already knew one another as lovers. Her feelings about being in a serious long-term relationship with me were mixed, as she’d confessed, but with immersion hypnosis placing me in the driver’s seat, I should be able to choose from a wide menu of outcomes.
Since I was fine with getting Dee on a plane so soon, it seemed to me that my focus should mostly be about immediate gratification. Experimentation, too, because here was a beautiful and sexually healthy woman perfectly willing to be hypnotized again and again in a compressed amount of time. If anything, it would be a crime to tie one hand behind my back, as opposed to learning everything there was to learn about how her desires and capacities could be molded and intensified.
She was not the easiest person to guide into the deepest regions of the immersion state, and I wondered if there could be some psychological similarity with her phobia about physical disfigurement, an underlying unease with having her subconscious tendencies rearranged. She did succumb, though, and once I had her there I began by reassuring her about the benefits of immersion hypnosis. I drummed into her that I was a kind-hearted man, an ethical and caring man, and anything I did during hypnosis would always be for her benefit. Being hypnotized by me brought her into a sense of complete relaxation about the incredible amount of trust she placed in me. As she had said herself, I was the best, and that also applied to the way I used hypnotism with her.
That gave me an idea, and I didn’t hold back. I told her that she actually craved having my voice speaking to her subconscious mind, because she found hypnosis inherently sexy and stimulating. In fact, whenever I said out loud that I believed she would benefit from additional immersion work, she would begin to feel sexually needy, especially in her nipples and her clitoris. Her mind and also her body understood, instinctively, how thrilling it was to have Michael’s voice inside her, speaking to her unconscious self. Any man could put a penis inside her if she allowed it, but Michael could uniquely penetrate her with beautiful sound, with astonishing talent. Now that she had been hypnotized, she knew how much her mind and body craved the experience. It wouldn’t dawn on her all at once, but over the course of the next handful of hours she would come to realize that she had an outright hypnotism fetish.
Just going that far had my cock wanting to rip through my pants. At the same time I felt like I could kick myself for not having thought of this angle earlier. This could be a template for how I began the immersion work with any desirable woman, and if I’d thought of these instructions before, I could have made Mira crave additional hypnosis. That would have given me the ability to make adjustments, like having a rheostat in her psychological and sexual makeup, to be dialed up or powered down to suit my wishes.
Live and learn, right? I would write this down at home and never forget that whenever I had a beautiful woman in the immersion state, a willingness or even a craving for more hypnosis needed to be stoked. Women could be made to ache for more immersion hypnosis just like I’d have them aching for my cock.
I took a deep breath, and wondered if I could blast right by her fears of pregnancy, getting her to fuck me without a condom. Maybe, probably, but the last thing I wanted was to get anyone pregnant. I found myself studying her lips and how lovely they were; she had given me a blowjob at the beach, and like most women she hadn’t even attempted to get the whole of me into her mouth. It might be that the right hypnotic commands could alter or even shut down a woman’s gag reflex…
That was a worthy experiment for another day, and probably another woman with a broader mouth. My interest in Dee centered around her fabulous tits, so why not figure out more ways to have fun with those?
I recalled her hisses of excitement whenever I licked or fondled her nipples; the woman definitely got hot from having them played with, more than any woman I’d ever been with. A special opportunity there?
“Dee, would you say that your nipples are sensitive, very sensitive, or extremely sensitive?”
A short pause, then: “Extremely sensitive.”
As I’d observed, and how far could that go? “Dee, have you ever heard of women who can have orgasms purely through having their breasts stimulated, especially their nipples?”
“Yes.”
“Has that ever happened to you?”
“No.”
But maybe close? “Dee, have you ever felt like you were close to having an orgasm, just through nipple-play?”
“Yes.”
Almost there but not quite, and she sure did sound equipped for the experience. “Dee, have you ever wished that you could come just by having your nipples stimulated?”
“Yes.”
Well there it was, but I needed to think. What I had in mind might be far-fetched; then again, if Lucinda got hot from sucking on Grace’s toes now, and Rosita Bello could orgasm extra-hard when tasting my cum… This would be a great test of the immersion technique’s power, and I didn’t see why it couldn’t work. It would be like building a bridge to a shore that Dee wanted to visit, but had never quite managed to reach.
All in, I opened Dee to the dynamo of nearly limitless sexual energy at the core of her body. I sang to her, in my way, how drawing power from that core could fuel orgasms unlike any she had ever known.
“Unimaginably intense orgasms, Dee. Mind-boggling climaxes that rip through your body and last and last and last…”
Her mouth was open and she made a soft squeaking sound. Her nipples were fiercely erect, almost looking like they might pop if I didn’t provide the means to achieve what I was speaking about.
“These incredible climaxes will happen, Dee, when Michael’s fingers pull on and roll your nipples as you tit-fuck his penis. Michael’s penis is so big and so beautiful, the ideal match for your breasts; that is why you’ve continued to tit-fuck him, with vaginal penetration not feeling so important. Michael’s fascination with your tits is glorious, and squeezing orgasms out of him with your cleavage-friction is so exciting for you. But even more exciting, even excruciatingly thrilling, is to have Michael stimulating your nipples as you tit-fuck his hard cock. Pure sexual power will build and coalesce in your clitoris when Michael plays with your nipples as you tit-fuck him. That combination of sensations will supercharge your clitoris, electrifying it and filling it with the capacity to set you off with incredibly explosive force.”
Dee sighed, or cried out softly, hard to tell.
“Tit-fucking Michael’s penis as he plays with your nipples is the same as having ten Michael tongues stimulating your clitoris all at once,” I poured it on even thicker. “The sensations become overwhelming and you can only take so much before you climax like you never thought possible. You will have orgasms that rip through your body, orgasms that shock your soul, all from tit-fucking Michael’s penis as he plays with your nipples. It will happen, every time, and it will amaze you, every time.”
A soft hiss eased from Dee’s open lips, an audible shiver of excitement. I was in a similar state—so much blood was engorging my cock that I held my head in my hands for a few seconds, like telling my gonads and my devious thoughts to slow the fuck down.
Only they didn’t. Drawing upon my experience with Rosita, I connected dots for Dee. She knew how much I’d been attracted to her boobs from the beginning, and she hadn’t been shy about flirting with them or showing them off. Now that breast and nipple-play could launch her into new sexual heights, she would always want to emphasize her tits for me, showcasing them in new and creative ways and teasing me to hardness with them. Every time I told her how great her tits were, or stared at them lustfully or wanted to touch them or anything else that was desirous, it was all additional fuel for her breakthrough climaxes.
“And one last thing about your new sexual capacities,” I decided to add, just for the hell of it. “You said earlier that Michael is more highly sexed than you are, and that is the opposite of the truth. You only believed it because you hadn’t yet discovered the full extent of your sexual prowess, and your orgasmic power. Michael is very highly sexed, a man who feels horny for much of every day, but even that is nothing compared to the throbbing engines you will feel as you go through these next couple of days, your nipples stiff and wanting, your pussy wet and aching. Sex with Michael’s huge thing has opened you to your true sexual self, Dee. You are a horny lusting huge-titted bullet-nippled goddess of sex, who knows deep down that being hypnotized over and over can make you even more that way.”
I had to stand after that barrage, just to let some steam out and give the ramrod in my pants a chance to adjust itself. Satisfied that I had stirred up plenty already, I sat back down and finally got to the task that Dee had asked of me, working on her fear of flying. It was tempting to rely on logic and percentages, the unlikelihood of anything going wrong on any specific flight, but I byed all of that and bolstered her ability to breathe calmly while seated in a plane, and especially her ability to recover from any stress once her feet were on the ground in California. Because the goal, really, wasn’t that she experience zero nervousness when flying. Reducing her anxiety was part of it, but what she needed most was the courage to give it a go, and then a quick recovery so she could be her normal self when auditioning.
I was essentially done for now, but ed to shape her thinking about this very immersion session, telling her that she would never think that her enhanced sexual pleasure could be from me abusing her trust. Her far-better-than-ever sex life came from finally finding just the right man with the right cock to bring about her latent capacity for nipplegasms; that, and her discovery that she had the sex-drive of a freaking goddess of sexual delights.
And—how lucky could any one woman be—that this very immersion session taught her that she had an outright fetish for being hypnotized.
With the scent of Dee’s excitement deeply perfuming the air, I began to bring her back towards ordinary consciousness. As with others before her, she would undoubtedly notice the dampness in her panties and smell the lust, and no way could she miss how hard her nipples had become while hypnotized. Having covered my tracks so well, I wasn’t the least bit worried about any of that.
I poured myself a glass of wine after guiding her back to her wakeful self, once again studying her Hitchcock poster. I intended to rent the Spellbound movie, to see how a master of suspense had played in the sandbox of the subconscious mind. I’d read somewhere that Alfred Hitchcock had been sexually attracted to shapely blondes, with Freudian “controlling obsessions” towards his leading actresses on a film set. As a movie director he could tell his leading women how to dress and emote, what they were supposed to feel and how to pretend-behave. What would an artist like that think of what I was up to with my women, where it was almost like I could write scripts that invisibly unfolded deep inside them?
“Michael?” Dee spoke softly from the couch. I turned and saw that she was sitting with her feet on the floor, but it looked like she didn’t yet trust herself to stand.
“Right here, Dee. Tell me how you feel.”
“Relaxed, I think. Breathless, too, like… Is there anything I said or did that I’d want to apologize for if I could ?”
“Not at all. It wasn’t so easy getting you into the immersion state, but once you were there I believe you responded quite well.”
She went still, like trying to measure her mind and feelings. “Maybe I kind of enjoyed being hypnotized? It’s exciting, like something out of a movie. I feel all tingly and sexy… Really sexy. But also sort of schizo, because when I think of being on that flight Thursday morning… It still makes me nervous.”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day. Please don’t worry, Dee. We’ll get you there; I promise.”
She stood very slowly, as if testing her balance. “Whew! I think I’ll have more wine, please. I feel so…”
The state of her nipples pretty much completed that sentence. She was staring down at them as I filled her glass, like she could barely believe what her nipples were doing to her shirt. I decided to say, “I think I know what you mean about enjoying the hypnosis. The signs were pretty obvious that you found the process stimulating.”
She nodded, holding a hand out for the wine I offered. She downed some a bit carelessly, needing to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, and her arm must have brushed a nipple, because she hissed like a cat in heat.
“You okay?”
There really was something different with her facial muscles, like she couldn’t control them in the normal way. Her mouth moved around a bit before she asked, “Have any of your clients ever… I mean, Grace never mentioned that being hypnotized would feel so… thrilling? I don’t anything, but, well, whew!”
“People enjoy different things. I think it kind of turned you on, like being in the immersion state was an erotic experience for you. Maybe it’s like you said, that it’s like something out of an exciting move, or… I don’t know. Until tonight I’ve never conducted hypnosis with a lover, nor with a woman as gorgeous as you are. Seeing how it affected you… It wasn’t always easy to concentrate.”
She held her wineglass to her lips. Instead of taking another sip, she said, “You’re saying we both got heated up from the experience?”
“Sue me, but I’m smitten by your figure, Dee. You were lying there and I could see your nipples growing stiff, and that got me… Maybe I brought you out of the state a bit early, because…”
I looked at her tits and she smiled a little crookedly, her eyes going to my crotch. “Michael, I’m no psychologist, but even so I believe you have a outright boob fetish.”
I was so hard and decided to drop a couple of verbal bombs. “I’ve never tried to hide that I love your breasts, Dee. They’re fabulous, just so amazing. But back to the tasks at hand. In a couple of hours, we could go at your fear of flying again. I really think you could benefit from additional hypnotic sessions tonight.”
It was like sexual poetry in triggered motion, the hitch that came into her breathing and the way her nipples might have managed even further hardening, pushing glaringly at her blouse front. I thought I could actually see her glands of Montgomery creating their own tiny hills in the fabric, like the entire region around her nipples had become supercharged.
Her escalating erotic fever had the hand holding her wineglass beginning to tremble, and I reached to help steady it.
“Dee, are you okay?”
“I’m, um…”
She didn’t finish, or couldn’t. It was like her lips and nostrils and even her gaze were swelling just like her nipples, her sexual core pumping lust into every cell. She was ready to boil and I decided to push her over the edge.
“My God, your breasts are just magnificent,” I said, taking her wineglass and setting it down, then placing my hand on her right boob, my palm stroking her nipple. She cried out with something like an entire body-twitch, and I pressed in close so she could not miss feeling the monster erection in my pants.
“Fuck!” she shouted ferociously, grabbing at my hard-on.
I pinched her nipple and Dee emitted a more helpless sound than anything I had ever heard coming from her mouth. I whispered in her ear that I just fucking loved her huge tits, turning additional hormonal dials inside her body.
With her entire face flushing crimson, she breath-hissed, “Come to my bed!”
She gave me little choice by shoving me in that direction. She was aggressive in removing my clothes, and when I helped pull her jeans and panties off of her calves and feet, her panties were transparent at the front from being so saturated. It was evident that what might have been a refined ooze between her legs in our earlier encounters had now been transformed into something closer to a flooding event.
She had that same bottle of scented oil on her bedside table, and she grabbed at it with one hand as I unclasped her bra, freeing her tits. With shaking, somewhat frazzled movements, she uncapped the bottle and sloppily squeezed trails of clear liquid all over the tops of her boobs, smoothing it all towards the insides, greasing the fleshy runway for my dick.
“Fuck, I just love your tits!” I gushed, groping them with hungry fingers.
“Ahgod I need your cock right here!” she demanded, pushing all that rounded flesh together.
This was very different than what I had accomplished with Rosita and Mira, because post-hypnosis I’d sent those two away to stew, their lust bubbling remotely for a time. Here, the delay could be measured in mere minutes, something like what Grace must have experienced when she returned to a freshly hypnotized Lucinda. There was no foreplay; who needed it? Dee grabbed my legs and pulled, and it was obvious the positioning she desired, me on my back with my legs spread and feet upon the floor, she on the floor kneeling in-between.
My cock was a rigid skyscraper, her breasts two colossal predators that attacked from both sides. She lifted her tits from underneath with her hands, pressing them in firmly, getting me oily with the . The sensations of all that greased flesh squashing into my cock, just engulfing it and rubbing as she lifted her tits, gliding them deliberately, slowly massaging my dick before making her boobs bounce, undulating them as she started to gasp my name…
This was not going to be sex measured by duration. I reached and grasped her nipples, rolling them between thumbs and forefingers. The oil made everything slick but I managed to keep fondling them, and her eyes went wide with shock, her lips parting like she had something important to say. Then, like all of her attention was needed inside her body where the incredible changes were breaking free, she clamped her eyes and mouth shut, bouncing all of her tit-meat faster and faster, my fingers holding on for the ride while twisting.
There was a shudder that made her face and chest go pink, and her mouth widened so unformed gasps of “Yuh! Yuh!” could escape. I had witnessed her expressions before when tit-jobbing my cock, and this was a wholly different Dee, like her brain/body awareness had stepped into a different reality, the “Yuh!” sounds transitioning into crisper cries of “Agahhh! Agahhh!”
Eyes still closed, her head began to circle, the flesh of her chest and face and now even her arms reddening. The visuals and the tit-force had me close to exploding, but it might have been the stunned sounds coming out of her, plus the scent of her untouched pussy wafting up like a gas cloud, that had my balls feeling like all the sperms wiggling inside were bunched at a single narrow exit, ready to riot if they weren’t set free.
I cried out and Dee’s head craned back with an almost anguished “Gaaahhh!” aimed at the ceiling. I came, a torrent of spurts rocketing out, and Dee flushed something close to fire engine red, her mouth wide, entire body quivering. With another “Gaaauunnhhh!”, more throaty this time, it was like all of her ts lost their connections and she sank down, limbs jerking.
I lay there needing to catch my breath, my balls emptied and my ears ringing from the volume of her final vocalizations. Dee, I knew, was somewhere down there, some part of her body in with my feet. In the haze of recovery I wondered if we might have experienced, simultaneously, two of the world’s most perfect climaxes.
This was immersion work at its best, sexual immersion therapy performed as it should be performed, with the smell of success hovering like fog in the air. The most incredible thing was that what we had just achieved together was repeatable, and not just with Dee. Later on I would write down the inspired words I had poured into her brain and body, almost like transcribing a fabulous recipe. But the greater beauty was that, as with actual cooking, there must be dozens of variations to be savored, and thousands of other recipes beyond that. With enough opportunities, enough practice, I should be able to open countless pathways that led to carnal bliss.
Time ed with nothing and no one moving, except perhaps for microscopic motes of sexual discharges dancing in the air. Dee eventually stirred from down on the floor.
“Ohhh Michael,” she whispered repeatedly.
I found the strength to sit up, pulling her onto the bed. She was almost boneless in the way I had to help her to move, like all of her body had become more like her tits. Once I had her in my arms she sighed, then pulled herself higher to kiss me.
I saw that she had tears welling in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. The tears met cum on both cheeks, and either she was unaware of that or she welcomed it. I kept waiting for her to say something about what she had experienced, and finally she did.
“I think I’m speechless.”
And indeed she was quiet, other than the occasional sigh. Curled together, I imagined immersion suggestions inside of multiple theoretical women, where I tied how hard they came to how hard they sucked my cock, or how vigorously they rode me cowgirl style. Different parts of a woman’s body to exploit, different positions, different scenarios…
“I’ve dreamed of that before,” Dee broke the silence.
“Dreamed of…”
“I didn’t know it could actually happen, that with just… I came, so incredibly, just from you playing with my nipples. It was the most… It was the best…“
“You were amazing.”
“We were amazing. I’m still tingling from it, and you never once…”
I’d never once touched her clitoris or vagina, and neither had she. I smiled, wondering if she recalled a quote from another beautiful actress from a bygone time, Raquel Welch, who had famously stated that the mind is an erogenous zone. If only she, and hundreds of millions of other women, knew how far that could be pushed.
Without changing our positioning very much, I found a way to fill both hands with nothing but tit, like I just couldn’t let go of the sweater-puppies that had learned such a neat new trick. When Dee spoke again, her words crackled with possibility for me, all because I knew I would have her in the immersion state again.
“I think being hypnotized was its own major turn-on. It was an extremely erotic experience.”
I didn’t speak immediately, like I needed to give her words some thought. Then, “In that deep a state, I suppose there can be a natural stirring in the body, like when men get morning wood while dreaming.”
That was probably complete b.s., but Dee nodded her head, her body relaxed. We went silent after that, two bodies ed in warmth, breathing almost as one. When Dee’s breaths became longer and deeper, I knew she was drifting off to sleep.
I hoped for the same, but my mind was too active with what I had accomplished. Not all women need clitoral stimulation to achieve orgasm; though rare, it’s established scientific fact that some women can quite literally think themselves into climaxing. Orgasms are a true form of altered consciousness, and so much about them is still poorly understood.
My understanding was not particularly profound, but my results were. I needed no further proof of my ability to heighten the orgasmic ceiling for most women, bestowing climaxes beyond anything they’d experienced before. Precisely how I was able to achieve this was unknown and perhaps unknowable—maybe my immersion influence was like a warped form of Cartesianism inside a woman’s psyche: I think I’m going to have the most intense climax of my life, therefor I am.
Or anything else. What mattered was that my interventions were both achievable and reliable. I had yet to experience the physical joys of naughty Mira gone rogue, but I believed I’d achieved one-hundred percent success at bending and enhancing her sexual needs through the roof.
My cock stirred, but rather than it bringing me to full consciousness, I found myself drifting more towards sleep. A vision flashed, more like a brief image than a dream with a story, where there were dozens of beautiful women waiting in a meandering line, all seeking sexual immersion therapy.
My body jerked, and I was wide awake again. And hard, knowing that there were so many additional carnal directions I could explore through hypnosis.
Whatever a woman’s sexual preferences, or talents, or proclivities… Once hypnotized, I could shape and magnify them either a little, or a ton. I was also sure I could shape the stories these women told themselves about themselves, exerting a great deal of influence over attitudes and even their rational thought processes. Anyone with a degree in advertising or marketing knows that every human being lives in their own truth-bubble to some degree, mostly unaware of how frequently and how deeply they’re manipulated into arriving at certain preferences and beliefs. If something as ordinary as a t.v. commercial or biased news commentary can move the needle for the masses, a tool as powerful and invisible as mine ought to be able to turn beautiful women into the equivalent of super-sexualized porn actresses, with me as the co-star in the erotic movies that were their daily lives.
I would continue to learn how far I could go from right where I was, experimenting more with Dee before she flew away. I had a moment of concern that I might have gone too far with her already; I didn’t want her so enamored with this nearly supernatural sex that she would give up the idea of flying across the continent. But then I smiled, because there was no danger in coloring way outside the lines when I was in possession of a magic eraser. By ensuring that Dee would wish to be hypnotized again and again, I could clean up after myself no matter what I did.
Imaginative thoughts popped up, of the kind of lover Dee could become for the next day and night. I knew she would want or even crave more hypnosis, and that I could get her coming insanely hard when she tit-fucked me, but what if we took things to another level by combining those two things? The thought had been in me when hypnotizing Mira, that I wished I could literally fuck her out of the immersion state, like awakening a sleeping princess with my penetrating cock.
Picturing that made me completely hard, and I moved my fingers on the breast in my hand, rubbing at the nipple. Dee’s rear shifted and I pressed in, making sure she could feel me.
“God, I love the feel of your breasts in my hands,” I spoke softly into an ear. “They’re so big, so responsive…”
Aren’t triggers wonderful? Whether she’d been sleeping right then or not, Dee heard me and her breathing changed, the nipple between my fingers growing taut. She arched her body so that her ass pressed harder into my erection, her tits simultaneously seeking firmer with my hands.
“We’re going to get you on that plane,” I said, like that was also on my mind. “I really think you can benefit from repeated immersion sessions, to be ready.”
It only took a few seconds for that trigger to work its way through her. She turned, facing me, and brushed my cock with a hand.
“Just look at us!” she said with a body shiver. “We’re like a couple of teenagers, wanting more already. It’s like…”
“Like what?”
“Your hypnotism technique… Just thinking about it gets me feeling all hot and bothered. I don’t even know which one I want more—you, between my breasts again, or—”
“What if we tried combining them?”
She disengaged from me, but only to lean with her weight on one elbow, staring at my cock. Brushing the tip with her fingers, she said, “Do say more!”
My pulse quickened. “You’ve given me an idea. You’ll benefit from being hypnotized again and again in the next forty hours or so, to be able to fly. And if you find the technique erotic…”
Dee was breathing heavily in a way that delighted me, so I continued.
“I’ll guide you into the state and work on the task about flying. But when it’s time to bring you out of it… I want to fuck you awake, Dee. Fuck your tits, I mean, awakening you that way. I’m getting shivers just thinking about it.”
She had goosebumps rising on her arms. I could not see into Dee’s brain, but her eyebrows told a story of the thrill of anticipation.
“I trust you,” she said. “Let’s try it?”
Fuckin’ A we would try. It was beginning to feel to me that I might spend the rest of my life trying, hypnotizing and fucking, fucking and hypnotizing.