Author's Note: All characters are over the age of 18. Story will include soft themes of mind control (fucking duh, mate) and rough sex.
To all who left a comment: I appreciate your kindness.
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I rejected a blowjob for the first time in my life that day.
It seemed like a great idea initially -- I mean, it was a blowjob, how could it not? Emily was glowing with well-fucked energy, her mind narrowed to think only of my commands and the pleasure she elicited from them. She didn't care that the pussy juice still staining my dick belonged to her, nor that she'd made enough noise in our little grove to invite nosy busybodies. So I leaned back against the car, she dropped to her knees, and she began to suck.
Emily was exactly what Miranda prophesied: fucking great, sexy as all hell, but nothing exceptional. She couldn't push me beyond the entrance of her throat, and when I commanded her to try regardless, she ended up hacking and gagging in a displeasing way. She knew how to get a guy off, but there was no theater, no rhythm, no teasing. Emily blew me to get it over with; Miranda blew me to give me an experience. Emily was just doing it, maybe even wanted it in a basic sense; but Miranda literally sucked the soul out of me.
Anyway, it felt great because it was a tongue on my dick, but I was trying to multitask. I'd pulled open a Notes app on my phone and was logging everything I could remember that I'd told Emily over the last hour. It had been a bit of a blur. Her oral service, while a good reminder of the impossible rewards I'd reaped from equally impossible risks, did not necessarily unfog the memory.
"Hey, can you..." I peeked over the top of my phone; she paused with just the tip of my dick in her mouth, her lips a soft "O" and her eyebrows raised in interest at my next word. "You can stop. It's okay...I'm good."
"Oh...okay." She settled back onto her haunches, her eyes still widened with worry. "Was it bad?"
"No! No, it was great." I gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm just trying to focus on something right now."
I went back to my notes to do just that. I hardly got three words down before something else started bothering me.
I looked back over my phone. Emily was still kneeling there, looking up at me expectantly. My dick hovered only inches from her lips. God, she had a shining, natural beauty. I wish she was sucking me o--...no, wait, we just tried that.
"Are you...okay?"
"Yeah."
"Why are you still...I told you you could stop."
"I know." She shrugged. "But you told me to get on my knees and keep my eyes on you, so..."
"Right. Fuck," I muttered to myself. I turned back to my phone, typing out "
Commands stick indefinitely w/o time frame
"
in bolded text. "Well, you can stop doing those things."
"Okay." And she climbed up slowly, flexing her legs to stretch out tight muscles.
"Thank
God
," I muttered again. "
Commands can be undone (non-FocusTunes ones)
" followed on the next line of my Note. If I could just remember everything I had commanded after initially putting her under -- thanking me for spanking her ass came to mind; treating me with respect was also a fruitful one -- I could undo most of the habits that she was curren--what the fuck?!
"What the fuck are you doing?!" I asked, exasperated. Emily was back on her knees, her eyes back on mine.
"What you told me to do: get on my knees and keep my eyes on you." She smiled her dazzling smile, eyes alight with joy.
"But I told you you could stop!"
"I know. But that doesn't mean I have to...right?" Her voice was hopeful.
"Well...no." I leaned back. "But why don't you want to stop?"
"I
love
doing what you tell me to do," she said immediately, shifting her weight slightly as she pressed her thighs together. "It feels
good
..."
Right, knew that. That was a FocusTunes command -- that one wasn't going away. Neither was this one, I'd reckon.
"Does it freak you out at all that you like this? Kneeling because I told you to?"
"Mmh,
nothing
you tell me to do freaks me out." Another slight wiggle, another smile. "I'd do
anything
with you, you make me so
wet
."
I chuckled to myself, asking another question I already knew the answer to. "And are you getting wet right now?"
"Mmhm." She nodded. "Just answering your questions makes me
sooo
horny." That's right: I told her to answer my questions honestly. So every time I asked her a question, she'd get turned up a notch.
A soft touch alighted on my cock. Emily's lower lip hid under the teeth of her smile as her fingers played over the crown of my dick, her skin shockingly smooth. "I think you're horny, too," she purred.
"I am." I chuckled, softly pushing her hand off to the side. "But right now, I have something more important to get to...I need you to listen to something for me."
As I re-dressed and found my phone, I went back over what I knew. I'd not yet tried to undo a FocusTunes command, and I wasn't willing to try just yet -- especially in a delicate spot. Emily's devotion was here to stay. Even if I wanted to undo it, I'd find myself in the same spot I'd been in earlier today: obsessed with sex, able to take it for myself, unable to take it from whom I wanted it. That was clearly an explosive cocktail, and if I swallowed it again, I might take more foolhardy risks. Better to stay this path, which seemed safe. For now.
So she was going to stay as is. But if Emily's obsequious obedience was to persist into public life, there'd be no explaining it away. I needed her to keep up pretenses -- but the last time I had this problem, with Miranda, I'd relinquished my power over her. That was -- I looked over at Emily, slowly snapping her thong into place as she gazed longingly at me -- ...well, it was just unacceptable.
Instead, I was going to take the Heidi route.
After a few moments of Emily listening to the song -- and me stroking her hair as she kneeled at my feet -- I gave her the new command. "Emily: you want to keep Ben's secrets. You want to keep Ben's secrets. You want to keep Ben's secrets."
She roused, and I helped her to her feet.
"Let's get you back to school, shall we?"
The car ride was...I mean, it was weird. My previous record for uninterrupted time spent with Emily Brooks was maybe four seconds, and apparently her version of treating me with respect meant scrolling through Instagram comments and putting a bare foot up on my dashboard. Toeprints on the inside of my windshield? C'mon now.