Afterglow 18

Susannah comes.

It's even more intense this time, a constant throb of sensation that pulses out from her clit and overwhelms her every single thought with pleasure. A part of her mind floats above it all like a tiny boat riding a massive swell, but all it can do is marvel at the sheer power of the orgasmic bliss that keeps hitting her over and over. Her muscles tense up, locked tight in an attempt to hold onto the moment forever and all the ecstasy that comes along with it. She lets out a high, quivering yowl at the moment when she crests the final, shattering climax and her pussy clenches hard around Robyn's pumping fingers, and then her body can't sustain it anymore and she goes limp.

"That's it," Robyn coos, slowly withdrawing her fingers and leaving behind a trickle of wetness that seeps into the mattress, already damp in places from so many previous orgasms. Susannah mews softly as they slip free, the tiny sensations magnified by post-coital sensitivity. "That's my good girl. You're such a good girl, aren't you?"

Susannah doesn't respond, at least not verbally. But she curls her body up against Robyn's, seeking out the warmth and comfort of the other woman's skin almost instinctively. She whimpers a little, her hindbrain recognizing the praise in Robyn's words even though her conscious mind is still recovering from the shattering bomb of a lovemaking session that left her thoughts resembling an impact crater. Ideas flash through her head sometimes, but even those tiny bits of her mind that are intact are distant, unable to connect into anything resembling a real train of thought.

It seems to be what Robyn is looking for, because she rests her hand possessively on Susannah's hip and says, "Of course you are. You're my beautiful, sweet girl and I've got you. Feel me holding you, safe in my arms, warm and drowsy and peaceful. It's okay to relax into that feeling, pretty girl. Just melt into my arms, into my voice, and let everything else go for a bit. Simply let yourself be in the moment for me, good girl."

Susannah murmurs something, but even she doesn't know what she's saying. She can still feel the pleasure saturating her mind, the remnants of a chemical high still floating around in her brain and fuzzing out her thoughts with serotonin and dopamine and oxytocin and all sorts of other natural drugs that she knows the exact function of when they're not working their magic and melting her into a soft puddle of submissive mush. All she really knows right now is that she's happy and she feels good and she wants to be cuddled.

Robyn seems to know exactly what Susannah wants. She hooks her leg over Susannah's, covering her like a human blanket and pressing her soft, warm body against Susannah's with a perfect blend of sensuality and comfort. It doesn't get Susannah turned on again--she lost count of the number of orgasms she had a long time ago. For that matter, she lost track of time a long time ago. She's not even sure if she's capable of more pleasure right now. But Robyn's actions hit her deep down in that same core of intimacy. She feels loved, in every sense of the word.

Robyn pets her hair. Every touch and caress seems only to intensify the feeling of rightness Susannah feels. It's like she's fitting perfectly into every space Robyn leaves for her, joining with her in rapturous communion. "You love being in this safe space, pretty girl. You love to let go, you love to let the oxytocin do its work and make you feel all warm and peaceful and happy in my arms. You can feel that right now, feel your brain pumping you full of trust and love in the wake of all that bliss and pleasure. You don't need to do a thing. It just happens."

Susannah's body twitches a little. Not quite the kind of twitch that you get when you're falling asleep, but close--she's so relaxed now, her muscles completely limp and exhausted from their involuntary workout and her mind still drugging itself with dopamine and oxytocin. She smiles, remembering the first time she and Robyn made love. It was all about the hormones back then. 'Aren't you curious, Robyn? They call it the 'love' hormone, or the 'trust' hormone, but we don't really know how much of that is true and how much of it is clickbait bullshit.'

It wasn't the usual kind of come-on, but then again, Susannah wasn't looking for the usual kind of relationship. Not back then. Now, she can't imagine life without Robyn stroking her shoulder, saying to her, "Feel my voice, wrapping you up like a warm, soft blanket. You know you can always relax completely like this with me. You know that I will always take good care of you. Even when the peace in your mind deepens to sleep, and when that sleep refreshes you back to waking, you will always remember this love, this trust. It's so perfect, pretty girl. You know that, don't you?" It seems so natural that she doesn't even know what any other kind of love would be like.

Susannah moves her head just slightly in answer to Robyn's question, an approximation of a nod that only someone who knows her as intimately as Robyn would recognize. She's too exhausted to do anything else. Her mind drifts on the edge of sleep, memory and awareness blurring until she's not sure whether she's dreaming. She remembers saying to Robyn, 'We should try it. Just as a clinical experiment. After all, if you're right and everyone's overestimating the effects the hormones have, it won't do any harm. You won't be affected at all, and it'll just be a little...experimentation.' She remembers trying to hide the desire in her voice, and failing.

"My good sleepy girl, so happy wrapped up in my arms and my voice," Robyn says, and Susannah's not sure anymore whether it's a dream or a memory or a perception. "You're always so happy to relax and listen to my words. Your brain is telling you to let my voice inside and trust me completely, and it just feels so right. So easy. So happy."

Susannah smiles, imagining Robyn's arm draped over her chest, Robyn's hand caressing her belly. Her eyes are tightly shut now, too heavy to possibly open. Her mind blurs together all the memories of Robyn's touch, Robyn's blissful stroking and petting. She barely even remembers being surprised anymore when she first felt Robyn's fingers on her breasts, fondling her nipples until they stood up stiff and erect and tingled with arousal.

'Oh, Robyn, I--how did you--oh god that feels, mmmmm...' Susannah feels the echoes of that first time even now, mingling with the pleasant afterglow that still has her mind blissed out to the point of incoherence. She was so astonished, then. Robyn's fingers found her nipples, her pussy, her clit with a confidence and precision that left Susannah shocked and aroused at the same time. Susannah thought she was going to be the experienced one, and Robyn the shivering ingenue, but all she could do back then was open herself up to more of that pleasure. Susannah remembers being upset about that for some reason, but she can't remember what it was anymore.

Because Robyn is still whispering in her ear, stroking her mind with words the same way she strokes Susannah's body with those expert fingers. It's too hard to think when Robyn touches her like this. "You're such a good girl, Susannah. You love to be a good girl for me, love to let me bring out all the pleasure you can stand. It's okay to want that. You don't ever need to resist that passion for me. You can just live in that desire, knowing that I will always tell you when it is safe to give your body to me like this. And when I do, you know that you will always give in to your arousal. Every single time."

Susannah gives another tiny nod, whimpering slightly at the promise in Robyn's words. It feels so good to be aroused for Robyn that Susannah doesn't even try to resist her urges anymore. So why did she fight it then? Why did she struggle so hard to make sure that Robyn came before her, why did she try to make Robyn scream and moan with orgasm after orgasm until she was utterly spent? Because she loved her? Because she wanted to please her? Something about those answers feels utterly true, but it still doesn't feel right. Susannah struggles on the edge of sleep, trying to remember.

All she can remember is her words, slipping out as she clung to the edge of orgasm. 'I...no, I can't, I mustn't, I...' If there was a reason, it wasn't good enough. Not when her whole body was primed with lust, desperately aroused by night after night of imagining the moment when Robyn lost herself completely in the pleasure. She was so turned on by the fulfillment of all those fantasies that Robyn had no trouble making her come first, before she could make Robyn...make her do something, be something...

Susannah tries hard to reassemble the scattered puzzle in her mind. She had a plan for Robyn, something that involved convincing her to have sex with Susannah. Something involving making her come over and over and over, wringing out every last orgasm until her brain was flooded with dopamine and oxytocin. But why? What was her goal? What did she want to make Robyn into?

"That's my obedient girl," Robyn whispers, and Susannah feels a momentary sense of triumph as she finally understands. Then the understanding vanishes, leaving only the satisfaction behind, as her thoughts dissolve completely into warmth and peace and loving obedience and she sleeps in Robyn's will once more.

THE END