FlyAway

She felt so needy. She hadn’t fucked a guy for an hour. Jesus, when did that become a thing. Sex didn’t used to be a big deal for her. She had even gone to therapy to resolve her low libido. Hypnotherapy. That had been her mistake. She knew that now. Not that knowing it helped her.

After one session she had felt like her libido had gone up 100% so she went back. Again and again. Each time she found her arousal increasing but she couldn’t ever seem to orgasm. On her own, with any of the guys she dated, even on the one occasion she experimented with another woman. After 3 months she asked her therapist about it. He smiled and said there was something they could do about that.

The next session they had she came harder then she had ever done in her life. She went back every week after that. It became habitual. He took her deeper and deeper into trance every time, consistently telling her how her arousal was connected to his voice, how his voice had allowed her to find her libido, how his voice allowed her to cum. Only his voice. It got to the point where she would cum whenever he told her to, only when he told her to. He wouldn’t even need to trance her. Just saying a word took her from zero to orgasm in seconds.

Then he stopped letting her orgasm and her life changed. Suddenly it wasn’t enough to pay for a session in order to be rewarded with an orgasm. She had to let him touch her whilst she was in trance. To play with her body while he conditioned her to respond his touch. To his commands. After a while she found herself following his commands even when not in a trance. Feeling a surge of arousal when she knelt at his command. Heating up when he told her to open her mouth. Bringing herself almost to orgasm in response to being told to suck his cock. Her association with cumming was now completely tied to her obedience to his commands, and all of his commands were sexual.

She tried not to go back so many times. She told herself it was better to live a life without orgasms then to be used as a sexual object in this way. But it never lasted long. After a day or so she would be crawling the walls, her phone would ring and she would be on her knees obediently sucking his cock within the hour.

She gave up resisting after a while, resigned to her fate. He seemed to sense her resignation, which had led to the call this morning. The one telling her to buy the clothes she was wearing. To put them on in the shop and bin her other clothes. She was going to be a hooker, he had told her. A streetwalking whore for him. She wouldn’t be allowed to cum until she brought him her earnings from a night’s work. She had shivered at the thought. Firstly with revulsion, and then to her shame with arousal as she imagined herself being fucked by a stranger for money. It had been a year since her first session and in that time he had broken her. Taking her through increasingly desperate cycles of need to the point where she was about to sell her body for money, and feeling so incredibly aroused by the thought of it.