Pulse (Patreon)

Your hypnotist fills you with as much pleasure as you can take, and then keeps going.

* * *

Each aching moment of pleasure pulsed through your brain. Time had slowed down to a crawl, as your hypnotist’s words saturated your mind with more and more pleasure. “That’s it toy. Such a good, needy plaything for me. Edged, brainless, no control anymore. Just pleasure.”

Your hips rocked, as their hands teased your body, adding to the pleasure. “Good toy. Just pulse for me.” They snapped their fingers as they spoke, and the pleasure intensified, like you were a lightning rod, feeling every cell come to life with arousal, and need and desire.

Your awareness of the outside world faded as the pleasure danced through your body and mind. The overwhelming need to cum was an almost outer want, not quite your own. But it was being held back by their power over you. Slowly, the pulse of pleasure faded.

A noise echoed off the walls of the room. Your moans, fading as the pleasure slowed. “Good toy.” They said. “Such a good toy. Taking all my pleasure, letting yourself feel so good for me. I love to see you like this. You’re doing such a good job for me, subby. Now pulse.”

Another snap of their fingers. Your open, receptive mind was a conduit for the pleasure that poured into you. Filled you up to bursting. But their control was surrounding you. Encasing you. You would not cum. You could not cum. All you could do was pulse.

Their laughter joined your moans as your external awareness returned again. “You make such fun sounds when I do that, needy toy. Pulse.” They snapped again. “Pulse.” And again. “Pulse.” And a third time. Your mind felt like it was being annihilated by pleasure.

Their hands teasing your body were just pushing you further into this endless sea of pleasure that had swallowed you, filled you, become you. You were losing your sense of identity. Now  you were just their pleasure puppet. And it felt so good. You wanted it to never end.