The Murder of Sharon Weathers Slut Extraordinaire
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Humping The Air free porn video
BEGINNING OF THE END
“Five, you’re more and more relaxed. Four, you’re almost there, almost in that peaceful, accepting place. Three, my soothing voice is all that matters. Two, you have never been so relaxed and lazy. One. Sleep.”
We were in his room for his final ‘session.’ I studied him as his chin slumped to his chest. I tolerated that stupid grin he had when he went under, his lips slightly parted, only because I knew he’d start to drool.
I started. “Rick. Dick. Prick.” His eyes darted under his lids when he heard his trigger again. “Rick. Dick. Prick. Listen to my voice. My voice is all that matters. My voice means truth. What does my voice mean, Rick?”
“Truth.”
“Good boy, that’s right. My voice means truth. Rick. Dick. Prick. Listen to my voice. You obey my voice. Obeying my voice is all that matters. My voice is law. What is my voice, Rick?”
“Law.”
“Good boy, that’s right. My voice is law.” I completed my reinforcements, although at this point they were hardly necessary. “When I count to three, I want you to take all your clothes off and sit back down. Obey my voice, Rick. When I count to three, take off all your clothes and sit back down. One two three.”
Rick stood without delay, removed his clothes, and sat back down, arms by his side. He didn’t have a bad body, I suppose. He didn’t have a great one. I hadn’t seen all that many naked men up close back then, and I hadn’t seen any others at all over the previous year. His dick grew as soon as it was exposed to the air. Anger attempted to build a lump in my throat, but I promptly swallowed it.
“Good boy, Rick.” I had long ago cast away what few guilty feelings I had about this. I was justified. No more guilt, no more anger. I was done.
“Rick. Dick. Prick. Hump the air.”
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HARM AND RECOVERY
It was late August, and the fall semester was starting on Monday. I said goodbye to my family after they moved my stuff into my on-campus apartment. My roommate planned to arrive the next day, Sunday morning. Our place had two tiny bedrooms, a tiny kitchenette, a tiny bathroom and a tiny common area. We loved it! As Juniors with acceptable GPAs, we finally qualified for our own place.
I swapped my shorts and tee for a modest yellow maxi sun dress, thinking it would probably be the last dress I’d wear for the rest of the semester. I grabbed something to eat at one of the sanctioned welcome-back affairs and proceeded to find the un-sanctioned ones where I could find some beer or wine to wash it down. I flitted about and exchanged stories of boring or amazing summers.
I ran into Rick at one of the later parties. I sort of knew him through some elective courses, history or English or something. He was kind of cute. He flirted a little, I flirted back a little, and we ended up in a corner making out. I remember my head was getting a little fuzzy so he took me outside for some fresh air. I’m usually very good at controlling how much I drink.
I won’t go into detail. I threw out the dress. I started that school year angry and embarrassed and depressed.
I credit my doll of a roommate for getting me back on my feet so quickly. She advised, but didn’t push, me to report the prick. We had all heard the stories of administration cover-ups. But she did push me to see a councilor. Just talking about it helped, but the most helpful thing the councilor did, which I had not expected at all, was hypnotize me. She would put me under and suggest that I could step away, look at myself objectively. I wouldn’t describe the experience as out-of-body; maybe more like watching TV. My embarrassment and depression became tangible things that I could manage.
I handled my anger differently. I directed it away from myself and towards him. It didn’t fade away, but traveled with me. I made it motivate me.
I learned self-hypnosis and meditation, which was something positive that came out of this. Even better, I taught myself how to hypnotize others. I had tried it first on my sister, back home over the holidays, and we giggled whenever she came out of trance and followed my harmless suggestions. Back on campus for the spring semester, I used it as a party trick. I always kept my suggestions tame, like making a noise when a certain word was said, or that someone or everyone was naked. I hadn’t liked being the center of attention in the past, but doing my little shows somehow made me feel safe, like nothing bad could happen with everyone watching.
At one party, when I was letting them coax me into performing, I saw Rick. Rick the dick. Rick the prick. He looked right through me. The bastard didn’t recognize me! Anger tapped my shoulder and I told her to cool it. I started to ask for volunteers when Anger insisted, “Get him up here.”
“OK, I’m up for a challenge tonight!” I started. “Who here is absolutely convinced that they can’t be hypnotized?” One guy jumped right up, and a second was ‘volunteered’ by his girlfriend. I pointed at Rick and said, “What about you?”
He begged off, said he’d rather watch, but Anger helped me out. “Are you afraid?” That got his attention. “Folks, I think this young man is deathly afraid of losing control to a woman!” The group did my job for me and goaded him to step forward with the others.
I got the first two participants into a light trance and had them spinning (and dropping) imaginary plates and sweeping up the pieces. Rick was tougher, as I expected, so I used reverse psychology and double-speak. The more relaxed he was, the more in control he was. The more in control he was, the more he listened to what I said. The more he played along, the more he pretended, the more relaxed he was. I knew I had him when he started to drool.
He joined the other two as I came up with other benign acts. I privately gave him one more suggestion before I brought the three of them out. I proposed that he should force me try to hypnotize him again, just so he could prove that I couldn’t do it. They all awoke to applause; the two were chagrinned but I left them happy and full of energy. Rick vehemently denied going under while the group’s ovation indicated otherwise.
After the ‘show’ he confronted me, just as I had suggested. My roommate was ready to defend me, but I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. I shushed Anger. I told Rick to let me prove that I could hypnotize him. “Roomie here will tell everyone the truth if I can’t hypnotize you.” He stuck to my script and agreed.
Could it have been that easy? It was. He went under as I told him what he wanted to hear, followed by what I wanted him to hear. I suggested that he would accidently come across me at the library study room the next evening and that he would convince me to try to hypnotize him yet again. That became the theme for all of our subsequent sessions. I’d put him under and he’d wake up reassured that he couldn’t be hypnotized. That’s how we ended it that night at the party. I snapped my fingers and he laughed at me. Roomie played along and told everyone that he was just pretending and that he was never hypnotized.
I had one day to come up with a plan. My roommate was worried for me until I asked her to be there at the library too. I wondered what we should do. Some kind of erectile disfunction seemed appropriate, but I didn’t think his mind would accept that he couldn’t get an erection. So I had to misdirect him, maybe tell him when he could, and couldn’t, get hard. Roomie and I brainstormed how to start and I spent the night writing my first scripts.
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THE DESCENT
A good part of our first night at the library was spent getting Rick the Prick into a deeper trance. I was able to install his trigger, “Rick. Dick. Prick.” I had him accepting how good he felt in trance while denying it ever happened when he came out. I also started playing with his dick that session, no pun intended, but in essence that’s what we did.
I told him to drop his pants, which I imagined wouldn’t have required hypnosis. I told him his dick was happy to be free. “Your dick feels good, doesn’t it? Your dick likes the air. It’s happy to be free with the air all around. Tell me what your dick likes, Rick.”
“Free.”
“That’s right. You’re a smart boy. You’re a good boy. Your dick likes feeling the air too, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Rick, tell me what your dick likes.”
“Air.”
“And what else?”
“Free.”
“That’s right, good boy. Your dick likes to be free in the air. Your dick is happy to be free in the air, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me what a happy dick is like?” Rick didn’t answer. “A happy dick is hard, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Your dick is getting hard. Your dick is happy because it’s free in the air and getting hard. Tell me about your dick now.”
“My dick is hard, free in the air.” He reached for his stiffening dick.
I touched his hand and guided it away. “No, no, Rick. Don’t touch the dick. If you touch it, it isn’t really free is it?”
We spent the next several minutes reinforcing the autonomy of his air-loving free dick. It was still fully erect when I ended the session, and we had a difficult time convincing him to pull his pants back up. I left him with one new suggestion before I woke him up: “Pussies are cold, aren’t they Rick? Pussies are really cold and no dick wants to be cold. Cold dicks can’t be hard, can they?”
I tested the trigger, brought him out and listened to him gloat.
“Ha! You’ll never be able to hypnotize me, even with two of you working at it!”
“I suppose you’re right,” I admitted. “See you around campus.”
He continued to ‘bump into us’ at the library several times a week. Putting him into trance became easier and easier and each session was more productive.
“Tell me about pussies, Rick.”
“My dick doesn’t like pussies. Pussies are cold, and make it soft and sad.”
“That’s right. You’re a good boy when you listen to your dick. When is your dick happy, Rick?”
“Free in the air.”
“Good boy. Is your dick happy now?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about blow jobs, Rick.”
“My dick doesn’t like blow jobs. Girls have cold mouths and that makes my dick soft and sad.”
“That’s right, Rick, blow jobs are bad and make your dick sad. Tell me about touching your dick.”
“Touching is bad. My dick isn’t free when it’s touched. Touching my dick makes it soft and sad.”
“Good boy. When is your dick happy?”
“My dick is happy and hard when it’s free in the air.”
“Would your dick like to cum in the air, Rick?”
He paused. “Yes.”
“Does the air have a pussy?”
“No.”
“Then how can you cum in the air? Does the air have a mouth?”
“No.”
“Then how can you cum in the air? The air can touch you, can’t it?”
Hopeful. “Yes?”
“Yes it can, but only if I tell you how. You can cum in the air but only if I tell you how and only if I tell you when. Would you like to cum in the air?”
“Yes!”
“Would you like me to tell you how?”
“Yes!”
“Would you like me to tell you when?”
“Yes!”
“Hump the air, Rick.” He just sat there. “Hump the air. The air is warm and moist. The air is warm and moist and you’re free and hard in the air.” His dick twitched as his hips gave a tentative thrust. “Rick. Dick. Prick. Hump the air, hump the air!”
He humped a little harder. “Good boy! Good boy! Hump the air!” Rick drove his dick into the air faster and harder. “You can’t cum yet. Your dick can’t cum until I tell it when. That’s what you said, isn’t it, Rick? You said you wanted me to tell you when to cum.”
“Yes. Tell me when to cum.” He stood unbidden, his arms open wide, humping the air with all the strength he could muster.
“Not yet. Don’t cum yet.” This was too enjoyable. Anger was driving. “Your balls are full of cum, aren’t they? Hump the air!”
“Yes!”
“Your dick and balls hurt, needing to cum, don’t they? Hump the air!”
“Yes!”
“Beg. Hump the air!”
“Please! Please let me cum!” He humped the air even faster, even harder. I saw his hands reach for his dick and then jolt away, knowing if he touched himself he would be soft and sad and would never cum. “Please, please let my dick cum!”
“Rick! Dick! Prick! Cum now! Cum for me now!”
I had never seen anyone inhale so much air so fast. His entire body stiffened while his dick twitched and twitched again. Then he moaned, loud like a horn, loud like a moose. I swear I saw the bubble of semen rise up through his dick before it spurted and splattered against his stomach. Wave after wave followed as his legs gave out beneath him. I watched his body shake as the last bits were squeezed out. He collapsed on the floor, panting heavily.
“Rick. Dick. Prick. Sleep!”
Instantly, his breathing became slow, deep and regular. He was in a deep, satisfying sleep. I gave him the usual instructions plus a new one. “You can’t cum unless I tell you when. You will never be able to cum until I tell you when.”
I counted him up and he got up off the floor and pulled his pants back up. He didn’t notice anything strange about that or about the cum on his shirt as he mocked me.
“Wow,” I said, “I cannot figure you out.”
He kept showing up for our sessions, and over time, word got back to me about his recent dates. He wouldn’t fuck them, he wouldn’t let them blow him, he even wouldn’t let them touch his dick. He’d just thrust his hard dick in the air in front of them and ask them to let him cum.
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THE END
I was packed and ready to go. I decided to take a year off of school, maybe two. Roomie and I had already said our teary good-byes with promises to keep in touch.
I studied him as he mindlessly humped the air with an absent gaze. He managed to finish the semester, but I doubted whether he’d return. I knew I’d never see him again. I reflected one last time on what he did to me. Goodbye Anger, my old friend.
My mouth approached one ear. “Rick. Dick. Prick. Hump the air. Hump the air and never stop.” He gave no indication that he heard me, but he did. I gave my final instruction in his other ear. “Rick. Dick. Prick. Hump the air. Hump the air and wait to cum. Wait to cum until I tell you.”
“Never cum. Rick. Dick. Prick.”
I might have heard him whimper as I closed the door behind me.
Madison
- 17.02.2021
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