The Potent Phrase

If you would like background on the secret phrase and how I obtained it please see the earlier parts of this series. Enjoy either way!

*****

I woke the following morning and glanced at the clock. I was after 10:00 AM and I began the process of jumping out of bed in a slight panic until I realized that it was Saturday and I wasn't late for work after all. As I relaxed back on the pillow the previous night's adventures began to fill my now somewhat conscious mind. It might have (logically it should have!) all been a pleasant dream but, no, I recalled everything that had happened and mentally pinched myself that it was all real and today was the first day of a new life for me.

As I recalled the amazing scene with Jerrie doubled over, her pussy in my face and my cock in her mouth I began to stiffen. I replayed how the two young girls had paid for the cigarettes and I hardened. I reviewed the enhanced image of Jerrie bent, bare assed, over the cooler that the old man had made permanent in my memory and my hand wandered down to my cock. I began to play with myself.

After a few minutes of this I was a little distracted by an unpleasant thought: staying in bed and masturbating was so yesterday. I could be doing something much more creative. In fact I could be doing anyone I wanted. I could walk outside this very moment and have someone more than happy to come upstairs with me and gladly accept my cum in their throat rather than jerking off into my hand and cleaning up in the bathroom.

Although I was still buzzed from last night's sexual experiences the idea of doing something more useful with my time kept coming back into my mind. Sometime later I wondered if the old man might have pre-programmed that feeling but I'll never know for sure. I decided I would and could do better and so I said the phrase to myself.

Immediately having spoke the phrase I added my instructions:

"I want to have a productive morning. I will get up in five minutes, make my bed, spend thirty minutes tidying up the apartment, have a nice shower and shave, and call [a friend and neighbor in my building - let's call her...] Cathrine and ask about access to the building's new gym. Assuming I get access, I will then go and do a sensible, you-haven't-done-this-in-two-years workout. Afterwards, I will return home and meditate for thirty minutes. When all these things are done I will then treat myself to a nice long massage."

I was pretty pleased with myself after all that. It wasn't too onerous or ambitious. But, despite having instructed myself, I wasn't exactly looking forward to the steps. I liked the idea that I'd give myself a five minute window during which I could easily override the instructions and replace them with: "I will stay in bed with the best possible imaginary porn projected on the ceiling and cum three times without ending up with a sore penis."

I laughed at myself, but nervously. Then I had an even better idea.

I wondered how long the susceptible period lasted after invoking the phrase. After all, if I could give instructions for thirty seconds or so as I had already done, the time window must be at least that. I would have to do some experimenting to find out and I realized it was much better to experiment on myself than to risk giving instructions to someone else who wasn't currently under my influence. Let's find out...

"Ralph," I said, deciding to instruct myself in the third person since it sounded like a good way to enhance the effect, "You will do the things I have just said but time will fly when you are doing them. You will interact with people normal - and time will flow normally if any unexpected situation arises - but otherwise you will be in a hypnotic state that will allow you to complete your chores without any conscious feeling of time passing. Everything will be accomplished at a normal, efficient speed and you will remember any important things that transpire that you might reasonably be expected to remember when you a finished."

"There, that should make things go more smoothly." I thought and relaxed back on my pillow.

Immediately I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed. Immediately I began to question, again, if I had just had a strange and interesting dream. But no, I definitely had just laid back on my bed and here I was sitting on it. A neatly made bed. Dressed and fresh from the shower with a not-unpleasant, mild soreness throughout my body and with a clear fresh mind as if I had spent some time meditating as I used to do in the distant past.

Memories started to flood in. I had just meditated! I was freshly shaved and showed! I did speak to Catherine - she was happy to hear from me, the gym access was by a simple keypad code, a small additional fee would be added to my monthly maintenance, and we really should get together for a drink sometime - and I had successfully completed my first workout in ages without over extending myself in the process!

Wow!

This potent phrase really did have the potential to change my life in an infinite varieties of ways. I could have any girl I ever wanted, I could be a better, healthier person, I could change my life and the life of anyone I wanted.

But before then I felt strongly that I needed a massage.

Ah, yes, I recalled, that was part of my self instructions. I would need to be careful with this stuff. It needed some careful thought to avoid, as the old man had joked, getting myself burned at the stake as a witch. Plus it was going to be rather exhausting to go around giving myself instructions all the time. Unless...

I repeated the potent phrase just in case it had worn off and said to myself:

"Ralph, from now on we'll call this process 'Fast Forward Ralph" which means that time will pass quickly as it did this morning but you will constantly monitor your progress, your surrounding, and interactions with people and things to avoid any problems during the Fast Forward process. If anything comes up, Fast Forward will end immediately and real time will begin with a clear mental picture of what caused it to be aborted."

"And now to test the process: Fast Forward Ralph through making an appointment with Angela at the massage place, getting ready to go there if the appointment is reasonably soon, and arrive there on time, relaxed, and a little bit horny. The time is now 1:30 PM and you will have an understanding of the elapsed time when you arrive there."

Immediately I realized that it was thirty minutes later as I pressed the doorbell and Angela answered the door looking genuinely happy to see me. I had skipped rather unnecessarily through some simple chores (I resolved to avoid doing that too often) and proved to myself that Fast Forward Ralph was working as designed!

If you'd like to get an idea of the Fast Forward effect you can skim from here to the part where I give her my instructions!

"Good afternoon Sir, good to see you again." Said Angela and led me to the "big" room.

Let me digress for a few minutes to expand on my favorite AMP (Asian Massage Parlor) which is located near the bottom of my block. It is a small establishment next door (and possibly associated with my local Dry Cleaners. Inside it is clean and tidy, has a small waiting area complete with the obligatory fish tank, and pipes unintrusive Asian massage parlor music at all times. Thankfully the latter has reverted to anonymous Asian tunes after a long period of playing Irish and Scottish traditional songs on Asian instruments. I will never again enjoy Danny Boy without wondering what happened to the zither.

Beyond the waiting area are four small rooms. One, the largest, is a double with a light curtain between the two tables. One is practically a storeroom and is used in only the direst of circumstances. Next to that is a similarly sized (tiny) room that I try to avoid and, finally, is what I call the "big" room which is large enough for the table and for the masseuse to walk around the table without having to shift it to work at one end or the other.

The rooms are clean and tidy (apart from the "storeroom") but the decor is not any more inspiring than the dry cleaners next door.

More importantly are the AMP ladies and the services they provide. They all appear to be from China, although the establishment purports to be Thai, and are aged in their early twenties and up. They are all pleasant and polite and both their language skills and looks vary from great, through normal, to I'm-just-here-for-a-massage. The ladies tend to work there regularly for several month before disappearing, some forever, and some come back. I'm guessing that they might be possibly be working on visitors visas. Angela, which is her real "fake" name, is one that left sometime last winter (leaving me to deal with "Sue" for several months) before returning a few weeks ago and thereby improving my life.

Strangely, for my city where pretty much any level of perversion can be obtained for a reasonable price, many AMPs such as mine do not specialize in a Happy Ending service. This is genuinely good massage and underwear is usually required (although it is pulled down or up or to the side as necessary as the massage progresses). In the more conservative regions beyond the city I find that AMPs simply assume a male client is there for a Happy Ending and the quality, or lack thereof, of the massage is incidental to the process.

In my local the massages range from entirely therapeutic to a little light touching of your happy places and, if you're lucky, a little contact with the legs or ass of the masseuse. I call these my not-unhappy ending massages. One thirty-something lady a few years back got quite adventurous after several visits. This cumulated in a session where my hands were given a directed tour to every interesting part of her body and the ending was a joint effort that would have been exceedingly happy had we not been interrupted in the last few seconds by someone entering the other half of the room for his massage (I was in the "double" room that day). Sadly that was the last time I saw this particular masseuse - which might have been the reason why she went further than usual.

Personally I find the "tease" component of this AMP style very pleasant. I feel good that I haven't explicitly paid some unfortunate worker for any kind of sexual service. I haven't asked them for anything other than a massage, therefore anything they do that goes above and beyond is quite voluntary and hence very enjoyable. I don't much care that I don't get to cum because when back home in my apartment I can throw my pre-cum soaked underwear in the hamper and take care of business in private.

Enter Angela, my long-time favorite. Angela's (massage) technique is so-so. Her pressure is much too light and she doesn't have Sue's sixth sense of what is going on under my skin on any particular day. This doesn't bother me since I don't have any particular medical issues to be addressed. I enjoy massage for relaxation and, if I'm being honest, for the pleasure of doing nothing but be touched all over by a woman for ninety minutes or so.

What more than makes up for Angela's (massage) technique is how well she performs my not-unhappy endings. Her too light touch is delicious from a horny-relaxation point of view and often borders on something that could be called "loving". She checks off all the appreciated extra services in the early part of the massage: she touches my ass inappropriately close to my asshole in the early, towel-covered phase, she straddles my shoulders with her crotch while massaging the opposite side, she straddles my head with her knees on the table and her thighs lightly clamping my ears from time to time while doing my lower back. She also spends a considerable time on my ass with my underwear pulled almost to my legs and will frequently reach underneath to massage my inner thighs which results in a lot of contacts with my balls and even the root of my cock. She goes perilously close to my anus without actually touching it and some of her movements stretch my buttcheeks, exposing it to her, with no known therapeutic purpose. My default duration is ninety minutes and the first sixty usually drift by in a pleasant blur until "the flip". I often get hard during the attention to my ass but the massage process is so relaxing that these erections - for me at least - subside swiftly and by the time she instructs me to turn over the only evidence of my extra-curricular enjoyment is the unused lubrication in my underwear.

My sessions with Angela move into higher gear after the flip. She arranges my head comfortably on the pillow and brings her little stool to the head of the table and spends five or so minutes on a very relaxing face and head massage. I suspect this portion is planned to give her a short rest from standing but I certainly cannot complain about that. Once completed, she removes the stool and begins to work on my chest and torso. She typically alternates by standing on my left side, moving to the right and then - one of my favorite parts - standing at my head so that when I open my greedy eyes her chest her chest is just above me. Then she slides her hands up and down my lower torso, descending perilously close to my face and mouth as she extends over me. Often this involves a pleasant sensation of her upper clothing sliding over my face but last week, to my delight, she had "taken it up a notch". Last week her white T-shirt was not tucked in and, as she extended, the hem slid over my face and dropped over my chin where she paused giving me a beautiful "up blouse" view of her little tits inside a simple white bra. She repeated this process three time - I have to assume on purpose - and my cock had jumped into life in appreciation.

Last week after this delightful addition, she had moved on the the portion of the message that generated the most pleasure for me (and the extra tip left on the table that I hope goes directly in her pocket).

Having washed off my chest and torso with a warm cloth the towel is moved to my upper body and she begins work on my "legs". Angela's routine now consists of about five percent leg work and the remainder being spent on my upper legs and around my groin. Beginning on the left side my underwear is tucked up around my happy area and my bare cock is usually briefly touched in the process. She spends an unreasonable time massaging the tops of my thighs which causes her fingers to occasionally brush against the side of my cock. For no apparent (therapeutic) reason she always moves around the table and works on the same area from the opposite side which causes the palm of her hand to rest on or against my cock. At the same time she presses her crotch against the table where - surprise, surprise - my hands have managed to locate themselves in advance. Her pussy comes always comes maddeningly close to my touch but I never have the nerve to reach for it and I settle for feeling the warmth of her upper thighs as she presses my hand against the table.

I don't know how she has the patience to spend so much time working near my penis. Unless she's really into it you'd think she would get bored and move on. Does she simply do it for my benefit? Whatever the reason, I won't complain about it.

Finally she washes off my legs and, almost always, my underwear is lifted and my cock briefly touched through the cloth. Then the towel is spread over my groin and legs. She dries each leg from the side and, for the grand finale, stands at the end of the table and smoothes towel down from the top so that her hands stroke slowly down my length as they pass. A final stroke and the most unambiguous cock squeeze of them all and we're done.

I hope I haven't bored you to death with the backstory. If you're a proponent of AMP I hope you recognized some of your own experiences in mine. If you have not had the pleasure I urge you to try it sometime - but beware of the addiction potential.

My thoughts returned to the present as I followed young her down the short corridor to the "big room". She isn't tall, probably about 5'4 and has a trim, compact body. Her legs are nicely muscled and her butt is firm and rounded. Her breasts are small. She has a pretty, Asian-girl-next-door face mared only by some buckled teeth that she hides behind her hand when laughing.

"In here please." She says in case, after a thousand visits, I've forgotten the routine.

I enter and remove my shoes and outer clothing. I always wear nice quality underwear and I when I go for a massage I choose my best. Today, despite my Fast Forward, I find I have selected something I rarely risk: Calvin Klein stretch trunks with a fiddly one-button opening flap that today, as usual, I haven't bothered to button. These are stretchy enough to avoid any accidental escapes by a limp penis but, if it's hard, all bets are off. I confess that, in the past, I have lain in bed with a mirror to see the effect and so I know that if I get hard my cock will likely not spring out unaided but the flap will spread and reveal the skin of my shaft.

I lie face down and wait for Angela to return. Business is slow today and I seen no other masseuse or manager outside nor heard any massage noises from the other rooms.

"Ready sir?"

"Yes," I reply and she enters, "My usual ninety minutes with no feet please."

As always I raise my head and turn to her as I speak but this time will be different. I look in her eyes and speak my potent phrase.

"Angela, today I want you to relax and massage me in whatever way you want. If you want it to be entirely therapeutic then make it so and there will be no hard feelings and the tip will be the same as usual."

I didn't mention that, if she took this route, things would never be quite the same. I couldn't continue to enjoy her "extra" attention if I knew for sure that is was just a business transaction.

"On the other hand, if you get any enjoyment out of our usual extra activities you may certainly go that route. I won't object to any level of teasing and touching. You may spend as little or as much time as you feel on the therapeutic portions of the massage or dispense with that altogether if you wish."

"However, if you become aroused in any way these feeling will amplify and become stronger and stronger. If you see me becoming aroused it will make you feel even more horny. Once aroused you will feel a strong need to orgasm. You will also get a lot of satisfaction if you make me cum but it isn't absolutely necessary."

"You shouldn't do anything that will get you in trouble but, if a little risk gives you any excitement, that is fine. You may remove or adjust my underwear if you wish and as you become aroused you may with to remove or adjust your own clothes. As always, I showered immediately before coming here and my body is clean all over, including my ass. You may touch me anywhere in any way you feel like."

"If we go the sexual route, when our time is up, you will remember our session as enjoyable but not particularly unusual. You will behave similarly on any future sessions but your sessions with other customers will be normal, unaffected by what we do in ours. You will now proceed with our session and not notice that we spoke about anything other than the usual preliminaries."

Phew, I thought, that was a lot of thought and effort! I hoped that my instructions were smart and didn't backfire in any way. I very much hoped that I wasn't about to find out that Angela had no sexual interest in me. Perhaps, I thought, if it turned out that way I'd just use the phrase on myself to forget that I'd failed.

I also realized that it would be wise to limit the people on whom I used the phrase and to build on their instructions rather than to continually need to instruct new people. As a computer professional I liked the idea I had come up with this morning to assemble a series of instructions into an easily used "subroutine" as I had done with Fast Forward.