What The Heart Wants
“…and three, opening those eyes. Coming up, up, up!”
Mallory stifled a yawn. Hopefully he didn’t think her rude for having dozed off in the middle of him telling her about his day at home. Returning back here after a long day at work soothed her soul at least as much as a warm shower and some of his wine relieved her weary muscles. But somehow his voice was just so god-damn monotonous!
Well, not exactly monotonous maybe. She squinted at him, trying to scrape together the comparison she might be looking for. He had plenty of rhythm to the way he spoke, but somehow it never really was what reached her brain when he opened his mouth. Not around this time of the day, when she used the spare key he finally had granted her to crash at his place, neither willing nor required to shoulder the flight back from the bustling city life of her working days to the empty apartment somewhere in the middle of give-a-shit where nothing but turned off lights, a nearly senile radio and maybe a can of sardines awaited her return.
Not for the first time she asked herself why she still paid the bills for lodgings half a continent away from her work place when she had something much closer to home right here, twenty minutes by train from the office. Though even if she asked that, of course every time somewhere deep within her head a nagging voice reminded her of the reason why.
Because maybe feeling this at home at the place of someone she met back on that day was not the safest of ideas.
Not when he still had that little crystal pendant giveaway that all attendees had received. Not when she still sometimes teased him about the look on his face as they watched one pair of eyes after the next glaze over.
Not when every day she imagined her phone buzzing from a message that consisted of nothing but a swirling gif, causing her to lose ten minutes of her day. Or maybe an hour. Or maybe however much time he really wanted her to lose.
She all too clearly heard the voice, years of training and friendly advice having shaped it into her most trusted guide. But that was exactly why she all too easily also noticed the brief moments when that voice whispered under its breath: “Fuck it, consider the ‘What if…’ and tell me you don’t like it.”
And until this day, Mallory had never once found it within her to refute the implication.
Sometimes she fantasized about it. Sometimes that look on his face was more than just happiness to see her. Was promise and threat all in one, impish delight at a secret scheme she was already falling victim to without ever being aware of it until it was far too late. In those moments he wasn’t only a friend. And his voice wasn’t just lulling her into sleep, but was so utterly hypnotic that she just tuned out whatever he said, her subconscious mind convincing herself that she slept through his talk only so that his instructions could take her by surprise that much more.
“Up, up, up!” He chuckled, snapping his fingers in front of her for the dramatic effect. She giggled and stuck out her tongue at him. “I’m up, alright. And never was down to begin with, smartypants.” He laughed, the sound ringing so wonderfully in her ears that she regretted it a bit. That wasn’t exactly the dirty, evil sound her dreams were made of. But at the same time it was contagious and she laughed with him before she even knew it.
“Are you sure though?”
As much as the laugh had distracted her, the seemingly off-handed question hit her with the force of a sledgehammer. A very bubbly, very stimulating sledgehammer. A moan floated through the room and only half a second too late did she realize that it was hers. Instinctively a hand darted up to cover her mouth, yet he caught it easily, holding it still despite her best efforts and looking like it was no sweat for him at all.
“Tell me,” the sound of each word cutting through her self-control like a polished knife, “are you sure you would know if you had been down for me?” The whimper that elicited from Mallory didn’t even meet any resistance anymore. “Of course!” “That’s right, isn’t it?” Wait, was her affirmation of a strong mind meant to make him smirk like that?
“And exactly because that brain would know if it were under or not, that mind would be so good at forgetting the trance for me, wouldn’t it? Right along with whatever I had planted in there. You wouldn’t be able to resist whatever command I hid in that beautiful squishy part of you unless I wanted you to, would you?”
“Don’t be silly. Resistance! Piece of cake. I could do that any day without even thinking about it!”
“That’s right. Of course it is.” He beamed proudly as if she had just recited an especially difficult verse of his favourite poem. “You really can do anything you truly want to do. Even right here, right now. You’re capable after all. Capable of doing whatever it may be that this sensitive squishy bit of you really wants.”
Befuddled by the contradiction of his words and that sweet, naughty confidence in his voice it took five infinite seconds for her to realize that the hand he had caught had slipped into her panties, cupping an undoubtedly very squishy and even more sensitive part of her. It made her squeak. The hand stayed. But that wasn’t her fault, he had trapped it after all.
As if he had read Mallory’s mind he lifted both of his own hands up to where she could see them, merrily wiggling all ten fingers for a bit. “Go ahead, my dear. I promise, I am fine with it. You may do whatever that cute squishy brain of yours really wants right now. Even cum right in front of me, if that is what you’d like. I won’t mind. Or stop before it ever gets that far. Your call, I promise I will simply sit here.”
Words tumbled all over each other as her mind raced a mile per minute, trying to comprehend what was happening. She wanted to tell him that of course she could do whatever her brain decided to do. That she didn’t need his permission for that from the start. Most importantly, that the part of her that her fingers were stroking was not her brain, because how on earth would her own fingers be able to caress that so tenderly?
Instead, her lips parted for a needy, quivering mewl. With each breath her fingers sped up, finding new angles and so familiar ways of sliding and brushing over her slick folds. Why? Just why did this make her so fucking wet? She would have understood if he had somehow wormed his way into her head. If those taunting hands had been dancing in a fluttering pattern before her, weaving a spell she would only realize once she awoke from it. Or if perhaps she was acting on a compulsion he planted in her mind, driving home the point of him being in control.
But from masturbating?
Admittedly it was getting harder to focus on that for a moment. When all was said and done her own fingers of course would know the perfect ways to touch herself. Her eyes closed as the all too familiar sensation welled up within her. Images flaring up on the pitch-black screen of closed lids. Candlelight. Sparkling gems. Low voices. Closer. Closer! Any moment now…
It faded. Mallory gasped as a wave of white swept through her head. And once more as her head cleared, realizing that whatever she had been thinking about had been washed away, right along with the brunt of the pleasure.
She shot a glare his way but all he did was smile and look innocent as anything. “Aww, so close! But no need to worry, we’ve got time. You can take a break. We wouldn’t want that pretty brain to get all fried and mushy from all those touches after all. Unless perhaps that happens to be just what you want?”
“Shut it, I’ll do what I want!” Despite snapping at him a break did sound tempting. Right after she finished this. It wasn’t hard. She knew how to do it! Relentless strokes fanned every spark of sensation into a smoldering wave. Each breath seemed to pump pure arousal through her. As fast as the interruption swept them away, the pictures returned to the front of her mind. Wouldn’t this be the perfect chance for him to mess with her? God, she must look so enticing right now. Completely vulnerable, softening her mental defense by rubbing all focus and concentration away. If only he remembered where he put that crystal. She could almost see it hidden behind thin silky sheets, waiting to lure her into mindless haze… Fuck, so close! She would… She was…!
Fading.
For a few deeply disorientating moments she slowed, every neuron in her body ready to fire but motionless, waiting. Then the fog cleared and she growled over the missed chance. Only to utter a frustrated: “Why?!” Her fingers didn’t stop at all though. It was like that hand didn’t even care about what she ought to be doing right now. Which in all honestly probably wasn’t to pull down her pants to make accessing her wet slit even easier. Nor ripping open her blouse to feel the unobstructed grip of her fingers digging into malleable flesh, groping herself while he laid back and drank in the view with that cursed cocky smirk on his face.
“Why, you ask? Well, why do you think? Here and now that body is simply free to do what you really want to. Nobody is stopping you. Even if I can, I still am not going to go back on my word. You’ve got the go-ahead, so feel free to cum for me. If you can rub that cunt well enough to make yourself fall over the edge, that is.”
If she was able to? Who did this sexy hunk think he was! She’d been able to get herself off better than any of her boyfriends long before he even knew what a woman’s body looked like! With renewed vigor her hand went to town on her clit. She’d have herself squirting all over his couch in no time flat, that’d shut him up. He’d thank her for being allowed to clean up her sexy mess.
Fuck, or maybe… maybe if she made a real nasty stain on the fabric with her juices that would make him take out his pocket watch? Mallory would never forget the one time he used it, back in that short demo-trance. The lucky bottom was gone in what felt like seconds, even if the clock said it took longer. Would she drop as fast for him? Faster? With pure lust and ecstatic jolts of pleasure ravaging her body, vision was already little more than a blurry veil shielding her from descending into helpless darkness. In this state it really took not much fantasy at all to believe the specs of golden light of his cheap brass decorations were a shiny round object swinging back… and forth… back and forth… while her ears absorbed words that bypassed her free will. Oh fuck, yes please, that was hot! So hot. Almost hot enough to…!
Emptiness. Three aching seconds of quaking right on the peak. As much as a blink could make her fall. Every cell was primed for the bliss of orgasm. And yet nothing. No sensation other than foggy cotton clogging up her head as that body felt arousal fade in tormenting, bitter-sweet pulses. Until those fingers already resumed even faster than her mind could realize that it had happened again.
“Fuck!” She half-shouted, half-jubilated under the euphoria of never ending torrents of endorphins flooding her system: “You bastard, you did something! So good!” A laugh, crystal clear and sunny and harmless, was all she got in response. “What would I have done? All I really said was that you’ve got my permission to do whatever you wish.” “Then why can’t I cum?!” Her voice cracked under the onslaught of another wave. The last word was barely more than a shrieking yelp. Her back arched like she’d been shocked. This time! Too close! Way, way, way too clooooose!
And then it ebbed away.
Every. Fucking. Time! No matter how much she rubbed, it was like something wiped her mind of everything right on the brink of cumming, throwing her for an ever intensifying loop of sheer agonizing joy.
Already her hand had resumed its strokes. Had it ever truly stopped? The question made her burst into manic laughter. Of friggin’ course it hadn’t ever stopped. Why would it have, if the entire reason why it was working so hard was to give her what she truly wanted? As fingertips slid over dripping folds of sensitive flesh it felt like they were glued to her vagina until she finally, finally finished what they started each and every time anew.
It should be the easiest thing in the world. The constant edges had ramped up her sensitivity to a level she hadn’t felt in years. Even just coincidentally brushing her thighs together while shifting her position scrambled her attempts at speech. The worst part was that while being stuck in the center of this whirlwind of pleasure Mallory felt her rationality dwindling at the same pace at which her touch grew ever more precise. Even if she tried breaking the pattern or slowing down to cut her body some slack for at least a moment, each new stroke was honing in on her most receptive spots with growing passion. Leaving her less and less room to comprehend what was going on. Literally everything turned her on in this state and she loved it.
A fuzzy, rapidly crumbling corner of her brain knew that this was deceiving. That the ceaseless, merciless force of masturbating herself silly caused her body to literally drown in self-produced chemical stimulants until her drugged brain would associate anything with mind melting bliss if only it was insistent enough. As insistent as his eyes on her bare skin. As steady and taunting as that wicked smile while she debased herself before him. She was fuelling her body’s internal drug production to turn herself into an addict to this and knowing that only made it hotter somehow.
A dazed, vacant gasp later she realized another chance for release had escaped from right under her nose, leaving her wrecked, panting, moaning and thrashing to try and expose herself as far as she possibly could.
“Look at you having fun here.” His voice still was all smiles, but she felt a swarm of butterflies stir in her stomach at the malicious satisfaction that crept into the words. “Does it make you this dripping wet to have my permission for anything you really want right now? Or is it maybe really only because you are such a horny, empty headed slut for me?” In an instant she wanted to slap his stupid smirking face across the room. And jump onto his dick until they collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
But all she managed to actually do was squeak as he teasingly leaned closer, whispering right into her ear. “Go on, I dare you. Prove to us both if you have even a shred of brain left to stop.”
It was too much. Too hot, all of it! She was going to explode if this kept up! Any second now she wouldn’t be able to hold it. She would… would…
Rub.
All that pent-up frustration welled up and forced its way past her lips, but even to her own ears it was impossible to discern what she said. Mallory considered a thousand and one ways of conveying what it was she wanted, but each and every one turned into completely airheaded, drooling babble as those hands just wouldn’t stop!
And, a thought flared up somewhere deep down, why would they ever need to? Didn’t he say so loud and clear? She had permission to do what she really wanted. That was all she needed to do right now. And ever since, all her body did was jack off without a care in the world. Then wasn’t it already obvious why she couldn’t stop? Of course it was. She was simply doing what her heart desired by stroking and teasing herself to the edge again and again. Each time wiping away a little bit more of her silly girl brain for him. Each time getting wetter and hornier and even more pliable as she drugged herself into a deeply impressionable state. Conditioning her dripping wet brain to open up for him like this every damn time he wanted. Reducing herself to a babbling, gushing piece of meat for his exclusive entertainment until he thought she looked sufficiently messed up.
All his honeyed talk of orgasms was nothing but one of his hypnotic mind tricks. Who would fall for something as unrealistic as ‘release’ in this day and age? Hypnosis got her all hot and bothered, sure. The idea of him changing her mind until it was nothing but a pretty, ornamental wrapping for all the air in her head got her clit throbbing like nothing else.
But if he wanted to enthrall her, he’d need to work for it! No way was she going to give in to something cheap like cumming. That was for all those weak-willed girls that fell for magic tricks and phony stage hypnosis. Her mind was stronger than that!
Unless he put in some effort, Mallory would continue to do only what she really craved right now. Rubbing all traces of free will and intelligent thoughts right out of her squishy wet brain until it remained drooling and gaping wide open for whatever he wanted to put inside.
The fuzz after each edge barely even lifted anymore. Exactly as she hoped it would. There was nothing as intoxicating as feeling how with each moment, that head lost the ability to really be aware of his words a little bit more. Not like he was even saying anything important right now. Just that ever same stuff of how he wouldn’t do a thing to her. Leaving her free to do only what she craved.
How much time disappeared between a wave of fuzzy nothing and her head resting on his lap, droopy eyes blankly staring right into his? She didn’t know. All Mallory knew was that his eyes were literally the most arousing thing she’d ever seen. Staring into them set every single fiber of her being ablaze with desire. Simply holding his gaze tossed the last fleeting shadows of her identity into heat until all of her melted down into a quaking mass of arousal at his command.
“Shhh, it’s alright,” he cooed and the sound of his voice painted her world with white-hot surrender, “No need to think about the complicated things anymore. You’re almost there. Just keep playing with that dripping wet brain for me.” Another edge elicited a moan that he seemed to interpret as a response. “Shhh, what are you saying, you silly little fucktoy? Of course that is your brain there between your legs. It’s deciding exactly what you want after all, isn’t it?” Mallory had no clue because having clues or doing anything but growing increasingly mind-fucked for him was already impossible. But that did sound like something that would happen to a mind wiped plaything that thought with its pussy.
“That’s right,” he mumbled, again and again. Sometimes sooner than other times. After another wave of foggy oblivion maybe? After yet another edge? Somewhere deep within her cunt she giggled. Of course after another edge. And before them too. Because those two were the only measurements of time that existed. And really they were one and the same anyway.
If only she wouldn’t moan so loudly, maybe she’d hear what else he was saying. His lips were moving after all, but Mallory was far too busy brainwashing herself for him to ever stop and consider what it was that he said. If maybe it mattered when he described how she weakened herself to the influence of his voice like this. Or if maybe he was telling her that she was such a perfectly mesmerized slut for his personal use.
Or if he was telling her how while her dripping wet brain came up with such wild fantasies she would obediently rub them in, making her yearn to be hypnotized and taken advantage of by him even more with each thrilling edge.
Even if those words would still have registered behind vacant, broken doll eyes that served only to make her take in how hot he was, Mallory most likely still wouldn’t have been able to make sense of them. The way her pussy felt as it clenched around well lubricated fingers was by far too distracting. Much as the weird shapes he gently drew on her forehead as he spoke.
Numbers. That’s what they were called.
Why was he drawing numbers on her skin? Was he counting something? The amount of times maybe that she gasped his name in between incoherent stammers? Or the pace at which her hand pistoned in and out of her holes for his amusement?
Or the number of times that another edge brought her one step closer to the bliss of feeling her mind break into hundreds of tiny little pieces as she was left an empty thrall for him to fill with whatever he liked?
Maybe it really was just a different way of him conveying something. Perhaps all those numbers signified was the seconds ticking away as he wondered how much longer she could last until the next edge inevitably fried her mind all over again.
And perhaps it never really mattered as regardless of what the numbers might mean to him, to her they were divine grace amplifying her every sensation until the world sank into a rosy veil, even his face disappearing and yet still holding her undivided attention.
With heaving chest Mallory’s body pushed more and more exciting bliss through her veins. Each muscle burned from the effort and yet there was no fatigue. Not yet. Not while she felt his presence so close, was basking in the confidence that with each new touch she lost herself in his will a little more.
Were her fingers drawing a spiral on her clit, whirling at a speed that sent her every thought flying? Or was that just another thought he had planted in her pliable mind so that she would think it every time she’d touch herself? So that she would always condition herself yet another step towards being his hot, vacant edge toy? It couldn’t take much longer, of that she was sure. Whatever bone she used to have in her body seemed to have transformed into jelly, wobbling and melting into the frenzied masturbation that she could not bring herself to stop.
“Pleeeaaaaase!”
What was she even asking him for? To finally be granted release? To be pushed that last fraction too far? Or maybe just for more chances to beg so that he would dangle salvation before her only to rip it away again and again?
It seemed to tell him something in any case. Tenderly his hands enveloped her face, softly but irresistibly pulling her senses back to the present. Back to baby blue eyes reaching deep into her and a bemused chuckle ringing in her ears.
“Of course, Mallory. Of course. You did enough.”
With an angelic sing-song that belied the sinful temptation of his words his lips brushed against her ear: “Enough for this time, that is. But maybe, just maybe, this felt so very good, huh? And if that were the case, then could anyone blame you for wanting a repeat of it? It could be so easy to get it, too. We both know all it would take is an honest request for permission to do what you crave. But maybe, just maybe, these things are best handled one step at a time, slowly aiming higher and higher. Until together we can build up, up, up to find out what your heart wants.”
The promise hidden behind the simple awakener stayed with her all the way through the night until she sat back in the train on the way back to the daily grind. Work was going to eat up both their time for another five days and she was grateful for it. Time to think was exactly what she needed now. That, and to make a call.
Somehow Mallory had a feeling that before this week was over she would no longer need that dusty old flat anymore.
* * *