Sexual Immersion Therapy
Chapter Seven
I had an exciting dream the night that Grace, unknowingly influenced by my immersion suggestions, hatched the plan where I would hypnotize her girlfriend into being a more creative and responsive lover.
In this dream, I thought there was an intruder in the basement of my house. I opened the basement door and called “Who’s there?”, and the next thing I knew Mira was standing beside me, like having called into the darkness caused her to materialize. Though her eyes were open I could tell she was in the immersion state, her mind ready to receive my voice.
She was wearing a thin white negligee, her nipples partly visible through the fabric, the hem of the garment barely hiding the triangle where her legs met. I knelt so my face was just inches from her pussy, my hands running all over the terrain of her incredible legs. The beauty dynamic structure of her anatomy felt like it could practically kill me.
She radiated animal heat that I wanted to grasp and hold with my voice, pouring in immersion suggestions that would turn any shred of attraction for me into a raging inferno, but the dream went vague after that so when I awakened in the morning I didn’t know how far it had gone. The interesting thing was that, from the moment I opened my eyes, it was as if the word “sexual” had been glued to the others, my mind almost casually thinking of the new technique as sexual immersion therapy.
There wasn’t much that was ambiguous about the dream; it was almost like a snapshot of recent events and my current aims. It did hit me, though, how much I had changed since first meeting Mira. She had become an obsession, and even if we never got any closer, my life path was altered from knowing her. Without her push-pull wiles lighting that bright of a fire in my pants, I never would have sought out additional training.
I received a call from Grace at three that afternoon, and I had no illusions about the direction I was heading in. My friend wanted me to come to her place with my shiny new toolkit slung over my shoulder, ready and willing to practice sexual immersion therapy on Lucinda.
When I arrived at Grace’s apartment, it was Lucinda, luscious indeed, who opened the door to let me in. She wasn’t shy, standing on tip-toe for a peck on my cheek, saying that she was happy to finally meet Grace’s dearest friend. She led me to the kitchen at the back of the apartment, where Grace had a pitcher of sangria prepared. Grace’s kitchen had one of those woodblock cutting board islands in the center, and we all stood around it with our fruity sweating glasses, chatting and sipping.
Lucinda’s dirty-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a white ribbed tanktop showing off well developed shoulders and a dancer’s neck, strong and slightly long. She was a little shorter than Mira and more solidly built, like everything I loved about Mira’s physique had been compacted here, some of the gracefulness sacrificed for sheer animal power. Wearing a short black skirt with green tights, it was easy to see how Grace could become enthralled by this woman’s thighs.
Grace’s eyes were like two piranhas eating her girlfriend alive; I could witness for myself how she was thoroughly into Lucinda’s body. I wondered how much of that carnal hunger had always been there, and how much I was responsible for.
The conversation never became forced, but there was more than idle chit-chat going on here—the hypnotist and potential hypnotee were being given some time to feel one another out. I was happy that Lucinda didn’t pepper me with questions; she was relaxed, which could only help.
The moment came when Grace broached the subject. Lucinda’s expressions and body language remained the same, no obvious tensions giving away any misgivings. I asked Lucinda if she was one-hundred percent certain that she wanted to be placed in the immersion state—it took complete concentration to keep from slipping up and saying the sexual immersion state. In response she polished off her glass of sangria and nodded yes.
Grace knew her role, following us to the couch before giving Lucinda a lingering good-bye kiss. I followed Grace to the front door, where she whispered, “Go with the flow, okay? I might have said more to her than I should have.”
Not necessarily the words I wanted to hear, and when I was back with Lucinda in the living room she wasted no time defining our interaction.
“I think I should tell you something before we start,” she said, adjusting herself on the couch for comfort, flat on her back, green legs crossed at the ankles. “Grace told me everything she wants out of this, all the different suggestions you’re supposed to implant into me. I’ve seen the list. I even helped write it.”
“There’s a list?”
“Yes, and I love the idea. It’s like reading a child’s Christmas list, only the toys are my ions. Well, mine and Grace’s both.”
I still didn’t know where we were exactly. “You’re fine with the things Grace wants?”
“She’s really selfish, but then I guess we all are. Thing is, I’m a sceptic. I mean, hypnotizing me into dancing better or wanting to suck on Grace’s toes the way she likes... You have to it it sounds far-fetched.”
“So you’re willing to do this because you think I’m full of shit.”
“That’s putting it harshly. But in a way... Maybe? Grace is singing much better, and I can believe you helped her with that. But what she wants now? I have a hard time believing that anything of the sort is possible, sorry.”
“We don’t have to do this, Lucinda. We could just tell Grace that you couldn’t relax into it.”
“No, let’s go ahead. If it doesn’t work it can’t do any harm, right?”
“And what if it does work? How would you feel about that?”
“What’s to complain about if I end up being a better dancer, and I feel more motivated to do the things Grace wants?”
“Which in your understanding is…”
“She essentially wants me to be her sexpot warrior lover; her words. She’s obsessed with my leg muscles, pretty much the way I’m into her boobs. Grace’s boobs are perfect; you can’t even imagine. I’m into them the way she is with my thighs. Her foot-sex fetish… I like it fine; there’s nothing weird or distasteful about it, but it’ll never be as big a thing for me as her boobs. You know all of this already, right?”
“Sort of. Definitely not in so many words.”
“I can see the appeal of her fantasies, but I don’t understand how any of this is supposed to work. Grace said she thought it wasn’t working at all when you hypnotized her, and the next thing she knew she was coming out of it and time had ed.”
“That’s typical.”
“You really believe you could read the list to me when I’m hypnotized, and I’d want to do what’s on it?”
“So there is an actual list. Do you want to show it to me?”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you find it?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but then I got it. “This is a way of proving the technique works. You’ve hidden the list and you want me to extract its whereabouts while you’re in the special state.”
“Bingo. Grace wanted me to just give it to you, but I thought it better to do things this way. I’m not going to tell you where it is, not unless your technique has the power to pry the information out of me. Assuming you can hypnotize me at all. But if you show that list to me afterwards... Then I guess I’ll believe. I’d have to.”
I wasn’t entirely sure I liked her game; it had a gotcha spirit behind it. But I didn’t mind, either, because her underestimation of my abilities was playing right into my hands. It also occurred to me that the true prize in these mind-games, Mira, might display a similar kind of skepticism, and turning Lucinda into a believer could help in overcoming that.
“Let’s get started then. Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. What will it feel like if it works? Like I’d be compelled to do the things Grace wants?”
“Compelled, no. The technique is a gentle form of help, not a club whacking you on the head. You know the drill—I can’t make you want anything foreign to your nature, only give an assist to desires that are organic to you. It would feel as though you’re allowing your own wishes to be expressed, perhaps with extra energy. Nothing more.”
“Well then, be sure to focus on one particular item on the list, okay?”
“If I can find that list to begin with.”
“Right.”
“And which item is that?”
She smiled with narrowed eyes. “More intense orgasms. I mean, you just said extra energy, so why the hell not?”
I could only shake my head in quiet amazement. “It figures that Grace would put something like that on the list. I can’t really… But let me get this straight—you’re requesting this without believing any of it will actually happen.”
“True. But that wish isn’t all Grace, just fyi. See, when Grace lets loose... She’s an extremely sexual person, and I sort of envy that. If I was more like her when I came…”
“I’m not a miracle worker, Lucinda, but I’ll see what I can do. But now, before we proceed, tell me something about what it could mean for you to be a better dancer. That part wasn’t just a throw-away, you know; I wouldn’t have said yes to any of this without wanting to see whether the technique can assist, even marginally, with your experiences professionally. At the back of my mind, like a far-off goal, I can see working with athletes, maybe even doctors, any kind of profession where attention and focus are keys to success.”
“Helping them to focus better, perform better? I sure don’t mind helping you achieve goals like that.”
She told me how her attention wandered sometimes in rehearsals, and explained to me the importance of transitions, the fluidity of movement between one position and another. Mental anticipation was critical there, although in quicker movements there was knowledge in the body that had to be tapped into, and trusted. She got butterflies in her stomach right before performances, too, essentially mild stage-fright that sometimes had her moving too “hot” at the beginning of a dance.
I digested all of this, and then we got to it.
“Relax your entire body. Adjust your position so that every part of your body can relax, every muscle and every tendon.”
She complied, the corners of her mouth turning up every now and then like she was living some sort of joke. I led her through the technique and she responded to my voice beautifully, the smile disappearing as her mouth went slack. I had hoped that being a dancer would help Lucinda to be extra in-touch with her body, and that turned out to be true. As she went more vacant I almost rubbed my hands with glee, thinking the same thing could happen with Mira.
“Keep following the smooth voice, Lucinda. Just follow it where you need to be taken. Can you follow the smooth voice?”
That wonderful telling delay, letting me know she was fully with me. “Following...”
“Replying to the voice is no different than following it, Lucinda. You can reply to the smooth voice and still follow it, can’t you?”
“Yes.”
“The smooth voice is happy that you placed Grace’s list in a secret place. You can picture the list, just waiting to be discovered. Where is that place, where the list is waiting?”
“Bottom of recipe box. Kitchen counter.”
It was so easy that I almost felt indignant at having been fucked with. I got up, grabbed the list and had it unfolded by the time I was back in my chair in front of Lucinda’s prone body.
What a strange thing I held in my hands. The first few items were written in an unfamiliar hand, obviously Lucinda’s, but then Grace had finished off the list. In some ways it did resemble a Christmas list, but only if one could stroll through a store or go online to purchase some gift-wrapped “more glorious orgasms”.
That last item was written in Lucinda’s hand, which was actually a good sign. Lucinda had also listed: “Better concentration during dance rehearsals” and, “More confidence, fewer butterflies before performances”. Grace had added, presumably with Lucinda’s permission: “Stronger libido in the morning”, “More desire for Grace’s feet”, “Toes!”, and “Scream like a banshee building up to and during orgasm”.
Seven items all total, and I could almost hear the conversation that must have taken place, with Grace using her singing triumph as a lure, convincing Lucinda that I might be able to calm those pre-performance butterflies, and even heighten her in-movement focus. Then, with enough wine or even some skillful foreplay loosening inhibitions, the voicing of more pleasurable possibilities.
Could I actually implant “more glorious orgasms” into a hypnotized subject, and have that come about? That it was written in Lucinda’s neat hand, not Grace’s slanted scrawl, suggested that Lucinda really did desire enhanced pleasure, bettering the chance of making it happen. Accomplishing such a thing felt like the stuff of wet dreams, not reality; then again, the technique was uniquely suited to working with the linkage between the mind and body, and where did that take place with more force than during sex?
My imagination went there immediately—Mira, having crazy-powerful orgasms, with me. In an instant I had a full-on erection, and for several seconds I let my eyes travel up and down the contours of Lucinda’s body. She really was another physical treasure, not as perfectly suited to my tastes as Mira, but getting there.
I collected my thoughts, dick pulsing. I traveled familiar ground at first, going at the much greater relaxation Lucinda would experience before performing. From there I took her into more clarity and mental concentration during rehearsals, and enhanced awareness and complete trust that her body’s intelligence could be in command of both slower and quicker movements. For perhaps five minutes I did nothing but repeat that her mind and body could cooperate in the flow during transitions from one movement to the next.
It was much the same with the more intimate material, and here I used the nature of the technique to guide Lucinda right to where it counted, into what I told her was the sexual engine deep inside her body. For me it was one of those beautiful moments that life sometimes provides, where doing something for the first time almost feels like a re-discovery. It had been like that the very first time I’d put on a pair of skis and glided down a mountain as a kid; I had no training, no reason to feel so at home with an unfamiliar set of actions in an unfamiliar environment, but there was no denying the sense of having returned to something already known, as if I’d been born with the knowledge buried inside.
Here, with Lucinda open to me like a sponge, I gave careful thought to every single utterance for the first few minutes, but then something changed. Though not rehearsed, the words were there just as I needed them.
“Lucinda, I want you to picture this sexual center deep inside your body. Traditions speak of it, of a place behind the sexual organs, a subtle place where energy and deep pleasurable urges are born. Go deep inside to that place. Go to your sexual center. That place exists inside you, and you can be inside of it, feeling its power. When you next speak, you will speak from there, in touch with the almost immeasurable sexual power that resides there.”
I gave her time, and as I did I felt myself throbbing, like where she was going gave off sex vibrations that radiated right into my pants. She didn’t move, but something appeared different, infused, her lips and maybe even her nostrils growing slightly more plump right in front of my eyes. She had on a bra under the cotton tank-top, and it became apparent that her nipples had stiffened, pointing up to the ceiling like they yearned to touch it. She was lubricating, too, the scent of female arousal perfuming the air. She was there, somewhere inside where sex was everything.
This was huge. This could be fucking life-changing! There were libido-enhancing medications that psychiatrists could prescribe for female patients, so-called “female viagra”, but the words I had just uttered and the effect they were having on Lucinda’s body seemed to be of an entirely different order.
How far could I take this? And just how far could I ratchet-up a woman’s need for sexual gratification, and even the force of her orgasmic release? In speaking of the existence and power of a sexual core, I wasn’t entirely sure whether I had just exploited an existing reality or semi-created one, and would it even matter as long as it worked?
When I spoke next, it was almost like the needs of my aching cock were the driving force vibrating my vocal cords, creating a sound of sexual dynamism that could echo inside all that was connected to Lucinda’s loins.
“What do you feel there, Lucinda? What do you feel in that sexual center?”
“Need!” she responded, both hands moving to slowly lift her skirt. “Wanting,” she added, resting her hands right where her thighs met. “Energy. So much energy…”
I leaned in and watched as the middle finger of her right hand pressed against her tights, and I got an intoxicating view of the camel-toe anatomy that Grace loved so much.
“That part of you wants its needs to be met, Lucinda. You, it, love it when these very deep needs are met during sex.”
“Yes.”
“You love sex, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You love sex with Grace, don’t you Lucinda?”
“Yes. But…”
I was prepared for this, from Grace’s description and the little bit Lucinda had said before going under. “Lucinda,” I began, going straight where my hunches took me. “Do you love Grace?”
A significant elapse of time before she responded. “Don’t know. I love her boobs.”
“Does Grace love you?”
“Very into me.”
I thought for a second, hearing Grace’s voice in my head, going on about Lucinda’s thighs. “You feel that Grace is infatuated with you?”
She wetted her lips with her tongue before responding. “So into my leg strength. My thighs, vagina, mouth.”
Yeah, well, Grace had good taste. “And you feel an imbalance within the relationship?”
“So into me.”
Grace was more into her than she was into Grace in return? “Does Grace possess some attribute that you especially appreciate?”
I expected her to mention Grace’s big tits, because of course. And she did say rather quickly, “Her breasts.” Following that a few seconds later with, “Her sense of humor.”
I almost laughed out loud, but held it in. “You are extremely attracted to Grace’s breasts, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What is it about them that you love?”
“So full. Sensitive Gemini rocket nipples.”
Whatever the fuck that meant, presumably something about nipple-play helping Grace achieve blast-off. Great news, too, because I could work with this, exploit it. If she loved Grace’s tits this much already, just wait until I had her craving them the way Grace had a thing for her thighs.
Tricky, though, because there could be dozens or even hundreds of other reasons for the imbalance of attraction between them. Grace was a certified lesbian, for one thing, whereas Lucinda swung both ways. And Grace freely itted that she had a very strong libido; she was proud of it, even knowing that her drives sometimes led her into tumultuous relationships.
There was also the mystery of what real love is, and the unknowable factors that lead to its presence or absence. I felt for Grace on this one, because I really didn’t believe this method or any other could produce feelings of love or devotion. Blocked emotions could be loosened and areas encircling a complex feeling like love could be worked, but love itself?
It might be more in the realm of philosophers to determine where a line should be drawn between loving someone and wishing to suck on their toes, or feeling driven to suck on their toes, thus imitating an act of love. In the bedroom there is sexual technique, and that which motivates the technique. I felt equipped to try to tweak and even improve upon the one; the other was more a plaything for the gods, not man.
I looked down at Lucinda’s hands, momentarily inert but with fingertips still pressed against the damp green nylon right at her delta. She looked one or two suggestions away from full-on finger-fucking herself.
I went with what Lucinda had said about loving Grace’s sensitive nipples. I connected their sensitivity to the stimulation of her toes—to please the one was to stimulate the other. Sucking on Grace’s toes would make her nipples even more eager to be touched, to be loved… Toes and nipples were even similar in shape. Then I worked at enlarging how much Lucinda craved Grace’s tits in an overall way; she would think about them more, and daydream about them more, and need them more and get turned-on by them much more. She didn’t just love Grace’s big full breasts—she outright worshipped them. Whatever it was about them that made them Gemini rockets, that quality in Grace’s breasts ignited engines in her that were so strong that she would realize she was in love with Grace’s tits.
A few well-timed questions revealed that they both liked to penetrate the other with a strap-on. I decided to leave that alone—who was I to try to affect the specifics of what these two women did with one another, beyond what had been requested? I tacked back to Lucinda’s sexual center and the immense power located there, and how pleasing Grace in bed was the way she could keep having access to the big beautiful tits she adored. Sucking on Grace’s toes was a delightful pit-stop on the way to delighting in those wonderful tits. And all of that, the cravings they each felt for the best parts of one another’s anatomy, was the highway down which she could tap into the almost magical place within her body that had a nearly limitless supply of orgasmic fuel.
She would have more intense orgasms, soul-wrenching thigh-shaking orgasms—I probably found ten ways to say the same thing and told Lucinda that she would have them when making love to Grace in ways that made her lover happy. Pleasing Grace as a lover would result in her own orgasms becoming so transporting that she would have no choice but to scream her lungs out with them. No holding back with her voice, not even a chance of remaining quiet.
I never directly said to Lucinda that she had to have sex with Grace more often; everything I’d just put into her should do that trick already. If Lucinda couldn’t get enough of Grace’s tits and came during their sexual encounters like a fucking demon might come, wouldn’t it follow that the seeking of those pleasures would increase as well?
It was time to transition towards what I wanted out of all of this. “The fuel for enhanced orgasms has always been right there in your sexual core, Lucinda. This is true of many women, but it is especially true of dancers who are in touch with their physicality, like you. And like Mira Cassidy.”
No discernible reaction, but I knew the words were finding their way in.
“Just like you, Mira has a deep sexual core that she is only dimly aware of. And you know that Mira has flirted with Michael, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know that Mira has met Michael secretly, coming very close to making love with him?”
“I… suspected.”
“Mira did this because there is not enough ion in her marriage. Taylor is not a bad man but Mira’s sensuality is wasting away, because she’s unable to have transportive, soul-searing sex.”
There was a detectable response to this, the corners of Lucinda’s mouth turning down. It was like the thought of such a thing brought sadness to the sensibilities of her sexual core.
“As your sex life with Grace gets better and better, you will increasingly feel that Mira’s comparatively dull sex life is a terrible tragedy. Worse, it is an avoidable tragedy, because you know of a way to change the dynamic.
Michael is the solution to her problem, not as an illicit lover but as a gifted hypnotist. It was only because Michael hypnotized you, at Grace’s insistence, that you came to dance better. It was only because Michael hypnotized you that you were able to find and unleash the power of your sexual core. You will feel and believe that just one hypnotic session with Michael awakened your sexual depths, your sexual capacities. You wouldn’t say this to just anyone, but you believe, you know, that Michael is a miracle worker when it comes to gifting a woman like Mira with enhanced sexual desires and greatly enhanced sexual pleasure.
Mira deserves that same chance, and you will confess to her that you insisted on being placed in the immersion state. Being placed in the immersion state by Michael saved your relationship with Grace. You’ve never been happier, never had better sex, never had more amazing climaxes. Michael is such a generous man that he gifted you with the capacity of thunderous orgasms that have made your relationship with Grace so much better. And Michael could do the same for Mira, giving her better sex with Taylor. You want that, Lucinda. Mira is a colleague and a friend, and you want her to feel sexually alive and fulfilled, just as you will feel.”
It was all sinking in; I was sure of it. And I drove it in even harder—she needed to convince Mira that a much better sex life with Taylor was just one request away, and asking me for that hypnotic session was the way to get there.
“Grace trusts Michael, doesn’t she?” I asked, wanting to bolster Lucinda’s faith in just how trustworthy I was.
“Yes.”
“Grace trusts Michael. Michael is a very trustworthy man. A good man. You can trust Michael because Grace trusts Michael, right?”
“Yes.”
“Michael is helping Grace. Michael is helping you. He only wants what is best for you, and he would only want what is best for Mira. He is a talented healer, and healers are motivated by comion. Michael is exactly like this, and he can be completely trusted.”
That done, I leaned in close to the woman’s pussy and took a good long look at that anatomy and the tops of those gorgeous thighs, inhaling like an anthophile in a blooming rose garden. This was the scent that so intoxicated Grace, and I’d bet anything I’d be able to smell it all over her in the future.
They would have their fun together, perhaps experiencing some of the most intense sexual activity in the entire city. For me, if what I had just done could deliver Mira to me in this same position, cognitively gone but with her pussy drenched…
I’d bet anything I could make Lucinda want me too, enough to thank me for doing this by gifting me with a secret blow-job. A devious what-if scenario surfaced in my mind—what if I inserted suggestions where she just had to come by my house sometime soon, feeling a deep need to thank me properly with an enthusiastic hummer? I didn’t know if she’d ever given any guy a blow-job before; it sure would be easy to find out.
I leaned back in my chair. What if Lucinda had never tasted semen before—could I make her crave the experience, like she had to suck someone, me, off because she just had to know? Perhaps I could even shape the way she sucked me off, tying my ejaculation to her need to have my head between her thighs, almost desperately wanting me to experience what my friend loved so much.
Hold on there, I told myself. I needed to slow down, and take a breath.
It didn’t shock me that my thoughts would go there, but it wasn’t going to happen for a number of reasons. It would be too much of a betrayal of my best friend, for one. Also, Mira would need to be completely convinced of my trustworthiness at some point, and that could only happen if Lucinda believed this immersion session to be completely clean.
But being honest, wasn’t it also that Lucinda didn’t have big tits like Grace did? I studied her physicality as she lay there, and knew I was right. Lucinda was gorgeous with an absolutely stunning physique, but I wasn’t attracted quite enough to be overcome with temptation. She liked her female lovers to have big breasts, and so did I.
Why take risks going after the nectar of a lesser flower, when an exquisite orchid like Mira was the true goal? And to betray Grace like that… It was plain to see that I was a schemer, but I wasn’t a monster.
So I could , although I could not ignore how hot those thoughts had been, and how sensible they were in their own way. To have some practice before getting my tendrils inside of Mira’s body and brain… A big yes to that, only it would need to be somebody else.
I gathered my thoughts, ing the real aim of all of this—my semen all over Mira Cassidy and her beyond-gorgeous legs and her big tits. I composed myself, ready to initiate Lucinda’s journey back to consciousness…
And then an idea appeared, that wasn’t quite as wicked as I’d previously been thinking, but was still something.
“Lucinda, as you discover over time that your sex life with Grace really has improved after being hypnotized, you will feel a deep sense of gratitude towards Michael. So much gratitude towards Michael, so much good will. Like you would do almost anything for him, if he asked.”
I smiled at having thought of that, and turned it over in my mind. Right now I didn’t have anything in particular that I wanted from this woman, other than for her to fulfill her unknowing role in getting Mira to finally open her thighs to me for real. But you never knew what might arise in the future, and while I had her here like this…
I went at it for a couple of minutes, driving it deeper into Lucinda that she owed me a favor, not as a burden but from the depths of her heart.
That being done, I carefully placed their list on Lucinda’s abdomen. Her hands were still at her pussy and it would be unmistakable that she’d gotten hot while hypnotized, so I addressed that before bringing her back.
“Lucinda, upon awakening you will feel and smell that you became sexually excited when hypnotized. That’s proof of the effectiveness of the technique, its ability to grant your sexual wishes, and Grace’s wishes, too. Michael, sweet trustworthy Michael, accomplished exactly what you and Grace wanted. When you awaken you will absolutely know that you can have more intense orgasms than ever before, and you will want sex with Grace as soon as possible to try that out.”
Because why not get this domino toppling towards Mira as soon as possible?
“Come back now, Lucinda, bit by bit until you’re fully awake.”
I picked up my chair and placed it where I’d found it. Lucinda’s head tilted from side to side as she gradually came out of the state, and I turned my back to her, willing my hard-on to retreat. I’d gotten pretty worked-up over there.
Lucinda spoke my name, and I turned towards her. She was looking at me and smiling, until she realized she had the list on her body. Then her nostrils twitched, and she realized her hands were at her panties, her pussy wet.
“Whoa! What…”
“Don’t worry,” I soothed. “You found Grace’s suggestions extremely stimulating, which has to be a good sign.”
She blushed and lowered the hem of her tight skirt before sitting up, the list falling to the floor. “I’m sorry, I... This is kind of embarrassing.”
“It’s okay. You went right into the special state and the topic at the end was sex.”
“Yes, true. Maybe I’d better change, though. And shower, if you don’t mind.”
“Go right ahead. I’ll call Grace’s cell and tell her we’re done, and that I’m headed home.”
“Great. She…” Lucinda paused, and seemed to look at me in a new way. “You really did it. You hypnotized me. The list… Did I give it up easily or—”
“It took a bit of doing before you divulged the secret,” I lied, feeling it safer if no one knew just how powerful this tool was proving to be.
“It’s so wonderful of you to do this, Michael. Grace really loves you, you know. If you were a woman, I think the two of you would already be married.”
“She’s joked about that before. Although, honestly, I think we’d drive each other crazy within a week. We should both be thankful it’s not a possibility.”
“I can see why she feels you’re such a special friend. You’re so sweet, so generous. Thank you, on Grace’s behalf. And… Yes, on mine. If you ever need a favor in return…”
Just like that, how wonderful. Sounding like the amazingly kind-hearted person she believed me to be, I replied, “What we did is for you, too, Lucinda, not just Grace. I hope it all works, the focus when dancing and... Well, the rest.”
“I probably couldn’t have done any of this if Grace didn’t trust you so much. Now that I’ve gone through it... I think you’re a good man. And I feel really good, too.”
“You were very relaxed.”
She stood and arranged her skirt over the green tights, head bent for a couple of moments, perhaps iring her own legs. She looked up, a sexy little grin disappearing as she did so. “Tell Grace to hurry home, would you? Tell her I’m in the shower, and I need some lotion rubbed onto my back.”
“Will do.”
I made the call to Grace from out on the street, and the first thing she asked was, “Will she be a screamer?”
“Oh, definitely. If you’re near a drug store you might want to buy a big box of earplugs to distribute to your neighbors.”
“I’m going to test her out, you know.”
“I guarantee my work for three months or three dozen climaxes, whichever comes first.”
“Well, isn’t someone feeling cocky!”
“It’s almost like I’m a bit high, Grace. Doing what I just did… I feel like a young bird who’s just learning how exhilarating it is to fly. What if Lucinda really can dance better now? Can you imagine the possibilities that would open up? Oh, and before I forget, Lucinda wants me to tell you that she’ll be in the shower, and she needs lotion rubbed onto her back.”
“That’s code. Could your magic take effect that quickly?”
“Grace, I poured it on so thick that Lucinda’s tights were wet when she came out of the state. I’ll give you two a few days of privacy; after that I want a report card on how well she sucks toes.”
What I really wanted was to be a fly on the wall, witnessing my handiwork in action. I fully believed that everything I’d implanted would take root and grow.
Even the enhanced orgasms. I couldn’t know for sure, but for some reason I believed they would happen. And what a discovery if they did! It would be such an awesome tool if I could turn Mira’s dials so that sex with Taylor—or anyone else for that matter—never had the chance of being truly satisfying, whereas my touch was like putting the power of the sun inside her G-spot.
As I sat in my Audi, parked at the curb, I realized I had my hand firmly around a newly arisen erection. I disengaged just as I saw Grace, walking so fast up the sidewalk that she was practically running. She was so focused on her target that she didn’t even notice when she ed me, and it occurred to me that both women had my fingerprints all over their sexual motors.
I felt happy, but also discontent. They had theirs, but I had yet to get mine. One step closer, though. Another dot connected, or domino tipped.
“Mira, you don’t know it yet but here I come, and I may have become unstoppable.”
A quarter-moon hung in the evening sky, right above the center of Grace’s street. I thought about how the moon’s shape changes every night, even though the actual object remained the same. It was waxing and I thought of turning Mira into a version of that, the same as always on the surface but with her naughty self growing larger every single night.
I wasn’t sure why, but before putting the car in gear for the drive home I asked my stereo to play Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.
Guided by the familiar music, I pictured what it might be like to be fucked by the dark, sexually frustrated side of Mira Cassidy. Run rabbit run indeed, always needing more Michael meat.
I smiled and made a silent bet with the moon above, that before it became this same shape again I would finally, inevitably, have naughty Mira so stirred up that her perfect legs would be wrapped around me, frantically coaxing a load of my semen to warm her insides.