Medea’s Test
© Copyright 2018 by Wiseguy
ii
“Just so that we’re clear,” Medea said, “this test is meant to measure the degree to which you are willing and able to temporarily turn over control of various aspects of your mind and body to me. We’ll start with simple things, and then progress to suggestions that require increasing willingness on your part. Some of those suggestions may involve having you do things of an adult nature, that you might not normally do in the presence of someone with whom you are not on intimate terms. If at any time I suggest something that you are unwilling or unable to do, you can say ‘yellow’ or ‘red’ and the test will end immediately. One of the first things we will do is install a suggestion that you use that safe word automatically the first time it feels appropriate to you. Are you agreeable to all of that, Jason?”
“Yes, I am.”
Medea seemed very pleased. She got up, picked up a pair of bluetooth headphones off the night stand, and stood over me. She wore a gold-colored peasant blouse with notched shoulders and a very low front plunge partially held together with laces; it was very tempting to peek down the front of it, but her eyes captured mine as she placed the headphones over my ears. They were lightweight, resting on the band across the top of my head, and decently comfortable. I followed her with my eyes as she returned to the night stand, fiddled with a black metal box, and then sat down again, watching me. A quiet, throbbing sound started to play through the headphones.
Medea pulled up the wheeled office chair and sat down, lifting a handheld mic to her lips. “That’s right,” she said, and her voice seemed to be coming from inside my own head. The mic was cordless, but clearly connected back to the black box driving the headphones. “You know how easy it is to succumb to the lure of binaural beats, don’t you? I really don’t need to say anything at all; I could just watch you as the beats wash through your brain and pull you into trance all by themselves. You’re getting a little glassy-eyed already, have you noticed?”
I was? Oh … yes, actually, I was. Binaural beats are sneaky that way; the brain instinctively synchronizes itself with the perceived frequency of the beats, and I could already feel myself slipping into that day-dreamy alpha state.
“But there will be plenty of time for your conscious mind to drift off,” she continued. “For right now, let’s give you something to focus on.” She nodded her head at the far wall, which was bare except for the thermostat and the pale wallpaper. Then a bright green dot appeared high on the wall, wiggling ever so slightly. “There you go,” her voice echoed in my head. “Just focus on that spot. Follow it with your eyes as it moves back and forth … back and forth.”
My eyes followed the bright green dot as it deliberately swung from side to side. Sure, I realized that Medea must be holding a laser pointer in her free hand and shining it on the wall, but it just wasn’t that important. What was important was to keep watching, waiting for that moment when I’d start to notice my eyes growing tired …
“… so tired, so droopy and drowsy, which is perfectly normal, of course, isn’t it? You know how staring at something above eye level like this affects people, so you expect it, accept it, as it happens to you. Those eyes getting tired, strained, weary. It’s okay to blink, Jason. Quite okay to blink, to let those eyes close down just for a moment, and then struggle to open again. A struggle that gets harder each time, does it not? Yes, of course it does. You can think about why that is … or you can just experience it, and let me think about it for you.” Medea’s voice lowered to a soft, breathy whisper: ”Trust me...“
Something about that tone, and the closeness of her voice seemingly inside my brain, sent a powerful tingling sensation from my scalp down through my neck and back. ASMR, I vaguely thought, suddenly aware of how very much those beats were soaking my brain and how ungodly heavy my eyelids and my entire head had become.
“I know how much you want to sleep now, Jason. It’s okay to let your eyes close down, to let your head rest, to drift and sleep for me. You’re safe with me. Imagine what it feels like to just … drop.”
The curtains came down over my eyes and there was no opening them. Absent the visual stimulation I felt my mind sinking down, drawn in by her seductive voice and those insidious binaurals. I was so absorbed in the sensations of my own rapid descent that I missed a lot of what she was saying at first. Then I bottomed out, my head buzzing the way it usually does, and refocused on the voice in my head.
“That’s right,” Medea was saying. “So focused now on my voice, on those feelings inside. It feels so good to sink deeper and deeper for me, to let my words sedate you, making you feel so very sleepy and compliant. I can tell you like the sound of those words, describing how you are right now—sleepy and compliant. It’s hard to think now, isn’t it? Hard to form ideas, hard to resist … it feels so much better to be sleepy and compliant … to let my words be your thoughts … to just let go.
“Sleepy and compliant is exactly what you become, Jason, each and every time I say those words to you. You love handing over your control to me, while you remain sleepy and compliant. You do it as easily as you might hand me your car keys, so I can drive you home while you sit in the passenger seat, drifting aimlessly, letting my words swirl around inside your mind where they can touch you so deeply, affect you so powerfully. Very, very good.
“As we progress through this series of tests, Jason, I will be asking you to turn over increasing amounts of control over your body and your mind. By design, this exercise may push some boundaries that you have regarding me, or people in general. So before we begin, I need your subconscious mind to make a pact with me, that you will refuse any suggestion that makes your subconscious mind or your hidden observer feel unsafe, uncomfortable, or unwilling to follow it. The first time I make a suggestion that your subconscious is not comfortable following, I want your subconscious to automatically respond with one of the safe words ‘yellow’ or ‘red’. No hypnotic suggestion can prevent your subconscious from using a safe word when it’s appropriate, even if you would otherwise be unable to speak.
“Regardless of which safe word you pick, the moment you say that word the problem suggestion is rendered completely ineffective and the exercise ends. You can remain in hypnosis while I remove any triggers or other suggestions from earlier in the series, or you can choose to come out of trance spontaneously as you see fit. When your subconscious has agreed to this pact, and is committed to using a safeword the moment any suggestion feels unsafe, uncomfortable, or unacceptable, please have it move a finger on your right hand.”
I nodded slowly, and felt my right index finger move.
“Thank you. The first step in our journey, Jason, is for you to develop the habit of obedience. It’s one thing to follow a suggestion because you want to, and you’re doing that so very well right now. But it’s quite another to entrust that judgment to your subconscious mind alone … to let your subconscious mind become so responsive that it overrides your transient conscious will, exerting its power to make things happen. We both know which side wins when the subconscious mind and conscious mind disagree, don’t we? It’s why willpower only gets people so far, short-term change, while subconscious learning can bring lasting, powerful change. So imagine right now, handing over the power of obedience to your subconscious mind … giving your subconscious the freedom to override your conscious thoughts, conscious will, conscious intent with those subconscious thoughts, subconscious will, subconscious intent.
“For as long as it feels safe and appropriate, Jason, each and every time I say ‘sleepy and compliant’, your subconscious mind automatically, instinctively, eagerly takes you all the way back down into trance, as deep as you can go, as quickly as it can take you there. The first few times, let your conscious mind try to resist, try to slow down the process, and notice how your subconscious gets more assertive, more overpowering, more successful at overriding your conscious resistance to that phrase, ‘sleepy and compliant’ every time I say it. And when your subconscious mind agrees to take control, no matter how much resistance your conscious mind may try to put up, it can let me know by lifting a finger on your right hand.”
Enough of me was occupied admiring her language that I almost didn’t notice when my right hand twitched. Just a twitch, I told myself. Means nothing.
“Excellent,” she said. “Now, let’s see how well your subconscious mind can overcome your conscious resistance. Coming all the way back on three—one, two, three.”
My eyes popped open and I was back. I stretched and yawned, aware that Medea was watching me closely. “Feeling good?” she asked.
“Of course,” I answered, nodding. “I’ve always liked your voice, so having it inside my head is trippy in a good way. Those beats are trying to pull me back down, though.”
“Ah—we can fix that.” She pressed a button on the box and the beats stopped. “Better?”
Her voice was still in the headphones. “Better.”
“Any amnesia yet?”
I actually did stop to think about it. “I don’t think so. Should there be?”
“I didn’t suggest it; it is important, though, that you remember what we’ve done so far. Can you recap?”
“There was a nice fixation induction with a laser pointer on the wall,” I recalled. “Then there was deepening, which I don’t remember in detail but it was effective. You gave me a trigger to go back into trance, and appealed to my subconscious to make that trigger work even if I try to resist consciously.” She was still looking at me expectantly, which made me wonder. “Did I get everything?”
“Nearly,” she replied with a wink. “We’ll debrief at the end of the evening.”
“Oh—and you did some ASMR stuff! Whispers and breathing.”
“That’s right. Ready to be graded? Sleepy and compliant.”
I really shouldn’t have been surprised by that, but I was. My eyes dropped shut and my brain went foggy before it even registered that she’d said it. Remembering the instructions, I tried to muster the resources to drag myself back out, but before I could do that she was counting to three again.
“That was quick,” Medea remarked, showing me the stopwatch in her hand. “I didn’t even manage to start timing.”
“I wasn’t ready,” I complained, shaking my head to clear the cobwebs. “Can I get a do-over? I don’t want to flunk on the very first test”
“All right,” she agreed. “I’m looking forward to finding out how far you’ll let yourself go for me. So sure, one do-over. Are you ready?”
I steeled myself. “Ready.”
“Use your conscious mind to try and resist for as long as you can. Let’s see how long it takes you to become … sleepy and compliant … for me.”
A haze descended on my brain, and I shook my head no. It cleared, but then while I was congratulating myself it flowed back in and I had to shake it off again. Medea’s gaze shifted from my face to her stopwatch. “Five seconds… six … seven … Keep trying, Jason. The harder you try to resist, the harder you fall into trance for me. I wonder how much longer your conscious mind can hold out?” That persistent fog kept filling my mind, and it was getting harder and harder to shake off. My head was heavy, groggy. “… and when you realize that you’re already in trance with your eyes open, well, you might as well surrender the rest of the way.”
That did it—my lights went out without another thought. I was still on the way down when she started counting and had to switch gears quickly to be back by three. I blinked heavily, moved my head a little, and looked up at her. “How long?”
She showed me the watch. “Seventeen seconds if you go by eye closure, but you were gone by thirteen. That’s really good, Jason. Your subconscious overpowered you handily there. Let’s go again and see whether you can last ten seconds with your eyes open. You might even try counting down from ten, to give you a goal to strive for. Ready?”
I braced myself and nodded.
“Sleepy and compliant.” It was a lot stronger this time, more like thick smoke getting blown into my brain than a gentle fog. I counted internally: 10 … 9 … … 8 … Then a memory triggered, of sitting in a dentist’s chair to have a wisdom tooth removed, being told to count back from ten, and then nothing.
“… three! All the way back now.”
My eyes struggled to open. I was dazed and disoriented and we both knew it. “Six seconds to eye closure,” she announced. “Notice how your subconscious is getting more and more powerful each time I use that trigger? And it feels good, doesn’t it, to just surrender to that impulse? To let me drive, if you will? It’s okay; you can trust me.” At the words trust me a wave of … something rolled through my body. A sense of release, of unburdening. A tingle of arousal, I had to admit.
“Sleepy and compliant, Jason.”
There was no contest this time—I felt myself dropping even before she finished the words, and there was nothing I could do but let it happen. She took me deeper, weaving in reinforcements of that induction trigger and complimenting me on how easily I had learned to hand over my control to her. “It feels so good to let me take over, knowing you can always … trust me. I’ll take care of you. And as you think about that, about letting me take over, you can feel so good about it. Content, safe, trusting. A lot of people find that truly surrendering control for a little bit is pleasurable, even arousing Jason—how much arousal are you feeling right now, thinking about how hard it was to resist, and how easily your subconscious obeys me? I know you like that, deeper down. And it’s perfectly natural for that arousal to increase each and every time you follow a suggestion of mine. Whether you obey immediately, automatically, reflexively or whether you try to resist and feel the power of my suggestion overwhelm your conscious mind, that arousal just keeps building every time you succumb. And the more aroused you are, of course, the more distracted your conscious mind becomes with that and the easier it is to overpower it with a few words. Or even a whisper. Trust me.“
I had another ASMR response triggered by her whisper into the mic. She was conditioning me to respond that way, I knew—and it was working. Every time she said it, I felt my will crumble and my groin tingle. My mind, or at least the remnants of it, started to wander along that track. From our talks and occasional light play, Medea knew that I’m not really into submission as a concept, but the way she expressed it now was appealing to my brain in some surprisingly sexy ways. I did feel myself getting turned on by her voice, her light touches on my arm, and, yes, the realization that we were reaching new levels of intimacy, and Medea was completely in control of how far that would take us. Thinking like that is going to give you a visible hard-on, I thought dimly, and felt surprise at how little that idea bothered me at the moment.
“Time for the next step, Jason. Now that your mind has chosen to be so open to my suggestions, to letting me take control … to trust me .. the next step is to establish control of your body. I want your subconscious mind to take absolute control of your body and use that control to continue to comply, automatically, irresistibly, with my suggestions.
“For as long as it feels safe and appropriate, Jason, each time I say the word ‘still’—just ‘still’—your subconscious mind takes control of your conscious body movement and gives it to me. All voluntary muscle movement stops immediately; your joints lock and your muscles go still. The harder you try to move an arm, a leg, a finger, even to turn your head or speak, the more still and unmoving and locked in place your body feels. I can move you by manipulating your body, and when I do your body accepts the new position and then locks into it. You continue to blink, to breathe, and to do any unconscious muscle movements you need to stay safe and balanced, but that’s it—all voluntary action stops. While you are locked, while you are still, you are fully aware of everything happening in and around you. If I give you permission to speak, you can speak. You remain locked in position, movable only by me, until I say ‘loose’—just the word ‘loose’ by itself. As soon as I say ‘loose’ you regain full control of your body movements and functions again. When your subconscious mind has fully agreed to cooperate with me, to give me that control and receive it back as I’ve just described, and to make that response as automatic, as unstoppable, as your response to ‘sleepy and compliant’, it can cause that finger on your right hand to wiggle again for me.”
Don’t you dare wiggle, I told that finger. I’ve done the body freeze thing before, and while it’s interesting for a short time I really don’t like being posed like a doll. Had I told Medea that? I couldn’t remember.
It wiggled. Damn it!
“Thank you. I promise we will have fun with this. Trust me.” Another ASMR response hit me and lingered while she counted me up.
“How are you doing?” she asked me as I cleared the cobwebs. “Any amnesia yet?”
“Still green,” I answered. “I don’t think I’m having any amnesia. I remember—or at least I think I remember—all the suggestions you just did. You installed a freeze trigger, and you—”
“Still.”
Right on cue, every muscle in my body locked into position. Medea squeezed my upper arms and forearms, measuring muscle tone. “Can you try to lift this hand a little, or is your conscious mind completely overcome?”
I tried, with all I could muster, and couldn’t manage more than a slight tremble. Which might have been entirely subconscious. I braced myself to be posed like a mannequin.
“Not even a little? That’s wonderful, Jason. See how good you are at automatically following my suggestions? See how much you can do when you are willing to let go and just … trust me?” Being unable to shudder made the tingly reaction all the more potent. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, to just relax and let me drive? You don’t have to worry about anything. I’m taking care of you for both of us. But I have to wonder, how much does it arouse you to try to move, and realize that you just can’t manage it, even a little? Go ahead, try some more and notice how every attempt gets you more turned on, and of course the more aroused you are the easier it is for me to keep control. That’s right. Loose.”
“—suggested arousal tied to following your suggestions,” I said, completing my sentence. I shifted in my seat a little and saw her eyes dart down to my lap for a moment. “Yes, I’m feeling kind of aroused, but you know I’m on the wrong side of 40. If you want a visible reaction you’re going to have to work harder for it.”
“Still.” Medea gave me a sly smile. “That was an interesting choice of words. Could it be that you want me to get you hard? Are you already imagining yourself getting so aroused, so erect, that it shows? Are you imagining me looking at your lap and seeing a bulge that tells me how very aroused you are? Because we can surely make that happen.”
There was a thump in the headphones as she switched off the mic, got up, and stood before me again. She bent down, deliberately placing her cleavage in front of my paralyzed face, and removed the headphones from my head. “You won’t be needing these.” The headphones and mic went back onto the bedside table with the black box, and then she sat next to me, her body pressing against my right side. I felt her hand on the back of my head, playing with my hair, and then her face right next to my ear. “Trust me …” My body tried to quiver, but couldn’t do it. “You want to move, don’t you? But you can’t. Go ahead, try to move an arm, a foot, a hand; maybe your head. The harder you try to move, the more helpless you feel, and the more that turns you on. Of course it does, because it means that right now, I can do anything I want with your body. I can play with your hair, like this. I can caress your chest, like this.” Her hand lowered to my lap, gently resting on my inner thigh. “I can also spread your legs open and reach between them. I could pull your zipper down, reach right inside, and there’d be nothing you could do to stop me, because your mind is under my control. How fucking hot is that?”
Medea had found—or maybe installed?—a hot button I didn’t realize I had. The idea of her pulling down my zipper, reaching inside, fondling me, and being powerless to either hinder or help … yeah, that was hot. Surprisingly hot. I needed to shift to accommodate the sudden shortage of space in my pants, but I still couldn’t move a muscle. She patted my thigh and stood up again. “Loose.”
“Holy fuck,” I breathed, immediately shifting. Yes, I was hard now, and it was probably visible. I was about to continue speaking, but I wasn’t quick enough.
“Still.” She walked around me, inspecting me from multiple angles. “Just like that, helpless again. Your subconscious mind is so good at obeying controlled, so good at instant obedience. Yes, I know you have an erection, I can see it. Knowing that gets you even more aroused, doesn’t it? And things are going to get a lot ‘harder’ for you as we continue, so long as your mind continues to obey … trust me. Loose.”
I groaned a little, still in the throes of the “trust me” reaction when she restored movement. The response was getting more ingrained, and more erotic, each time she said those words. But I didn’t get much time to process that before—
“Sleepy and compliant.”
I dropped like a rock, and thanks to her earlier suggestions and the awareness of her body so close by my arousal level went up another notch. “That’s right, Jason, dropping deeper and deeper into arousal and trance. So practiced at giving up control.
“The next step is for you to surrender more control of your mind. Oh, we know that I already have a large measure of control, of course. I can make you sleep whenever I want to, and you’re powerless to resist. I can make your body go completely still and helpless whenever I want to. How much does it arouse you every time I remind you of that, I wonder? You’re always completely safe in my control, as you know.
“Even now, as your subconscious mind becomes more and more powerfully obedient to me, you start to notice that your conscious mind forgets to keep track of exactly what I say anymore, and that feels perfectly natural and comfortable to you, because you know that you’re safe. Trust me …”
I know, now, that there was more after that but in that moment something in my brain shifted and whatever else she said went straight into some kind of void. I struggled to grab onto snippets here and there, and most of those slipped through my virtual fingers instantly.
“… three—wide awake!”
I jolted out of trance, disoriented. My attention focused on the sensation of Medea’s hand resting on my thigh and how hard my cock had become while I was out of it. Then I realized she was saying something and had to ask her to repeat it.
“Status check,” she repeated.
“Oh. Still green.”
“Thank you. Are you noticing any amnesia yet?”
“Yes, I definitely lost most of what you said this time. But I think you suggested that, didn’t you?”
“I did. How do you feel about that?”
“I’m okay,” I told her. “I assume it’s part of the—”
“Shhhh!”
My brain vapor-locked. Instantly, I lost the rest of what I was going to say. In fact, I lost any ability to compose any kind of structured thought at all.
“You were saying?”
I had no clue. Further, I had no clue how to communicate to her that I had no clue. My brain was completely idle, aware only of the weirdness of my condition and my increasing arousal.
“Hard to think, isn’t it? I’ve blocked off the part of your mind that forms language. You can think, sort of, but you can’t express anything. Not even to yourself. You can’t even really measure how much your arousal is increasing as you struggle to find words, can you? Don’t answer that. Or do—you may speak now.”
It took me a couple of seconds to realize what had just happened and to deal with the impact that it had on my libido. “Wow,” I finally said. “Just wow. I’ve never felt anything like that before. How did you—”
“Shhhh!”
And just like that, the rest of my question vanished. I felt mentally stunned. When Medea gave me permission to speak again, I marveled for a second and felt even more blood rushing south. “Holy fuck that’s hot!” Medea shifted; I stole a glance at her peasant blouse and noticed that the contour around her breast had developed a protrusion. She was enjoying this too.
“I think we’re ready for the next step. Sleepy and compliant.”
My brain was too fractionated to even try to hold on to anything. There was more about obedience and arousal, and I had the vague sensation of my body moving. That was it until she said, “… three, wide awake again.”
I dragged myself to a semblance of alertness and noticed that Medea had moved back to the desk chair. And she had changed clothes; the peasant blouse was gone, and in its place was …
“That’s my shirt,” I declared, even as I processed the fact that it wasn’t on me any longer.
“Not anymore,” she corrected me. “You gave it to me, so now it’s my shirt.”
I let my eyes roam downward, noting that she’d left most of the buttons undone to display a very distracting amount of cleavage. That did not help my higher thought processes one bit. “Well,” I said, “it does look a lot better on you.”
She beamed and toyed with the opening. “I’m glad you think so. Status check?”
“Green,” I answered automatically.
“Good. I want you to give me your pants.”
My groin muscles clenched hard as another jolt of arousal hit me. My hands went to my belt buckle all by themselves and began undoing it. Stop that, I ordered them, but they completely ignored me. A moment later the rest of my body joined the rebellion—I stood, dropped my pants, stepped out of them, and handed them to a grinning Medea. In the process, my conscious mind noticed that my shoes and socks had also gone at some point, and that it was now impossible to miss the shape of my hard cock acting like a tent pole in the front of my boxer briefs. How much longer would I be wearing them, I wondered.
Medea was very definitely checking me out. “I want you sit back down, Jason.” My body jumped to obey, which was a very odd sensation. She gave me no time to process it. “Sleepy and compliant.”
I awoke to a surprise. Not my own nudity—I expected that; a bath towel had even appeared underneath me, no doubt for hygienic purposes. But Medea’s slacks and shoes had also vanished while I was out. The sight and feel of her sitting right next to me, nude or close to it, with my shirt loosely draped over her covering just enough to keep me wondering, made me want to grab her and bury my face in her right then and there. There was only one problem: I couldn’t move again.
“Welcome back,” she said, turning her body more towards me, teasing me with glimpses of cleavage and thigh. “You should find that you can speak, Jason, even though the rest of your body is under the still trigger.”
I tried my jaw—yes, it moved. I swallowed. “Let’s see … okay, yes.”
“Good.” She put her hand on the back of my head and toyed with my hair. “Do you remember stripping yourself for me?”
“I remember giving you my pants. The rest is in the void somewhere.”
“Also good. I said I wanted you to give me the rest of your clothes, and you had no choice but to do it. Do you remember how aroused that made you? I guess not, but you can still feel that arousal right now, can’t you? How fast is that arousal increasing as you sit there, unable to move, unable to cover yourself, knowing that I can see exactly how hard you are right now? How much do you love being so helplessly aroused and controlled, Jason?”
She was toying with me; I knew that, but holy fuck was it turning me on. “Not normally my thing, but I’m starting to see the attraction.”
“Excellent. I want you to feel your arousal increasing the more you think about me looking at your body and compelling you to obey me for my enjoyment. Can you imagine what I’m going to make you do next?”
“Oh, yeah …” All kinds of erotic possibilities were flooding through my brain, but the words that came of out my mouth were the most correct. “Whatever you want me to, regardless of what I think or want or need. I can’t resist you.” That last part gave me such an erotic jolt that I gasped out loud.
“That’s right,” she agreed. “Status check?”
“Green.”
Her smile came with an extra brightness in her eyes. “The next step in the test, Jason, is to see whether you can surrender control of even base, primal responses—things you can’t control consciously even when you want to.” Producing a plastic bottle from behind herself, she flipped open the top and drizzled a small amount of slick, cool fluid onto my twitching cock. “I want you to stroke yourself for me. Loose.”
My hand went around my shaft and pumped up and down. I made a token effort to hold back, but I knew it was pointless. I was also so worked up that I welcomed the contact, even if I wasn’t used to doing this in front of an audience.
“That’s right, Jason. Show me how you like to be stroked. Feel that powerful, unstoppable compulsion to obey me and notice how your arousal, your pleasure, keeps increasing with every thought, with every motion, and with every realization that I’m watching you and enjoying every moment of it. Still.”
I was well lubed, so there was no screech, but I did come to an instant halt. I barely suppressed a groan.
“Oops!” Medea said, leaning in so close I could smell her, her voice coming from just outside my right ear. “And now, wanting so desperately to keep going, you can’t move a single muscle. Loose.”
My hand started pumping again. “You know, Jason, there are a lot of incredibly arousing things I could do with your cock if I chose to. I may just have to show you some of them. But right now, stroking, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the brink … still.”
This time the groan made it out.
“I’m being a horrible tease, aren’t I? But you’re obeying so well. You should be extremely pleased to have come this far, so to speak. Soon you’ll be just a few seconds from orgasm. I want you to say ‘please’ each time you are a few seconds from orgasm. Loose.”
Pumping, flexing, my body working completely on its own, I felt my balls tightening. “Please.”
“Still.”
I knew that was going to happen, but I couldn’t not say the word. I felt that pressure ease off as I backed away from the edge a little bit.
“Every time I stop you on the brink, your arousal and obedience increase. Loose.”
More pumping. Medea trickled a little more lube on me, and I swore I was going to finish this time. “Please.”
“Still.”
Another groan forced its way out of my still mouth. I wasn’t sure how much of this I could take. For the first time, I thought about calling yellow.
“I want you to think about how much you want me to straddle you, take you inside me, and ride you to orgasm. Loose.”
I pumped, imagining her on top of me, moving in rhythm with me. Determined to get there before she stopped me again, I clamped my mouth shut in a futile attempt to prevent the inevitable. “Please!” I croaked.
She paused. I pumped. I felt myself teetering at the brink.
“Still.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!” My cock quivered in my hands, my balls clenched, and the feeling didn’t subside. I knew what was going to happen, willed my body not to do it, but it did: a few seconds later, semen oozed out of me in a weak little stream, running down my motionless hand.
Medea produced a damp cloth from somewhere nearby and proceeded to clean me off. “You’ve done so well, Jason. Sleepy and compliant.”
I don’t know how long I was out. When I woke up, I could move again. Medea was sitting on the bed across from me and my hands were at my sides. “How do you feel?” she asked.
“Weird,” I confessed. “I’ve had ruined orgasms before, so I’m familiar with what happens, but it’s always freaky to be mostly hard and still aroused after coming. It’s kind of a let-down. I guess I failed the test by not holding it back, eh?”
Medea beamed at me. “Not at all, Jason. You stopped when I told you to stop, even though your body wanted nothing more than to keep going. You are the first person to pass every step of the test.”
She offered a fist bump and I returned it, letting my horny eyes drop to the deep opening in my shirt. “So, if I passed,” I asked with a bit of a lecherous tone, “what do I win?”
She leaned forward again, letting the shirt gape open a little more. “I want you to test me now.”