“See!” I exclaimed with elation. “I told you that you couldn’t hypnotize me.”

Smiling broadly, triumph showing in my face, I leaned back against the soft couch and spread my arms across the back. I felt super-fantastic, which is like regular fantastic, but with a cape and a big “S” on your chest. I felt like a teenager again, all energy and exuberance, happy and carefree, giddy and enthusiastic. Even the aches and pains, the telltale vestiges of growing older, had faded into the realm of distant memory. But why was I sitting so proudly on the couch?

Just a few minutes ago, Glade had been telling me all about his commemorative coin. I had been sitting in the chair, the big, soft, comfy, threadbare armchair with Lion’s claws for feet. It didn’t seem to matter.

I know. I meant to sit in the chair but sat on the couch instead, I reasoned.

My boyfriend’s patter about the coin had been mesmerizing. Not only is he super-hot, which is like regular hot but with a cape, but his voice is so animated, so soothing, so hypnotic. Hypnotic? A vague memory, perhaps a dream, danced through my mind, playing on my mental silver screen. Seated in front of me, looking me in the eyes, glancing down at the coin now and then, he told me how he won the coin in a contest, how it brought him luck, and how much he liked how it shines, the feel of it, the weight of it. Compelled at his suggestion to test the weight, I recall feeling the cold metal in my palm; it was so heavy that my arm dropped limply down to the cushion under its mass.

His voice was remembered; however the room, my thoughts, my fears, my trepidation about him trying to hypnotize me all faded away, falling into the void.

The problem with being an exhibitionist is that it makes you something of a succubus. When one gets their thrills by thrilling others, one needs to keep the excitement fresh and new otherwise they receive no pleasure. My constant quest to be more daring, to become wilder and wilder, had led me to try anything new that I could think of. I pursued the path of "sluthood” with vigor and enthusiasm. I stumbled upon erotic hypnosis and asked an online friend about it. As it turned out, she had experienced it and enjoyed it. I researched the matter and thought that perhaps I’d write a story about it. Then came the bomb drop comments from the boyfriend.

"I know how to hypnotize people," he shrugged. "In college, I took several classes when I majored in psychology. I was actually quite good at it."

I cried foul at that, ended up betting him that he couldn’t. “I call your bluff,” was the defiant challenge.

The recollection of being in the comfy chair danced within my mind. He had produced the coin, “before we begin,” and began telling me about it; the world faded away.

“Not hypnotized in the least,” was my self-edifying statement. My body no longer ached; I felt marvelous, refreshed. The couch was my new perch. “Maybe he did. Fuck! He did. I remember now. “

Dreamlike recollections of going into a sort of trance, not zombie-like, more akin to that feeling just before one drifts off to sleep came, unbidden, to my mind. I was sure of two things at that moment; he had hypnotized me and I loved that feeling. I really wanted to experience that again. The desire to trance out once more was fighting for dominance with the desire for sex.

The feeling had been pure rapture. I was falling, floating, flying, all happiness and relaxation. My body was alight with sensual feelings and thoughts. It was an incredibly horny experience! The flesh felt the loving attentions of thousands of fingers caressing every inch, a thousand tongues licking at my most sensitive spots. All those sensations crept back into my body and the recollection hit me. My thighs heated into a furnace of passion; my cunt dripped, soaking the couch. My nipples felt as if they were being suckled by eager nymphomaniacs.

“Okay,” my confession began. “Maybe you did.”

The urge for sex, for an orgasm, was almost overpowering. My mind took a first-class bullet-train ride to naughty town. The thoughts that I wanted to be his slut, his whore, his dirty fucking bimbo echoed through my head. It wasn’t that I wanted to be these things for him; I wanted to be like that because it was getting me off. I wanted to show him exactly how horny and wild I could be. It would thrill him and thrill me by proxy.

“Tell me,” Glade said, his eyes twinkling with delight, his voice calm, soothing, and extremely arousing all at once. “What’s your name? Do you remember your name?”

“Of course,” I laughed. “What a silly question! My name is Horny Cum Slut.”

“Did I just say that?”

“No!” I corrected. “I mean, my name is Fuck Whore. No! I’m a big fucking slut. Wait, my name is Dirty Fucking Bimbo.”

Selective amnesia set its hooks deeply into me. Every time I tried to say my name, my inner sex demons peeked out and revealed my true, horny thoughts. To make matters worse, visions of why my name is “Cock Sucking Whore” filled my inner eye and mind as the words came out of my mouth. Each time I’d try to say my real name, something such as “Dirty Talking Slut” would become my name. It made me so horny that I couldn’t control my impulses.

Moans escaped my mouth; my hands groped at my dripping cunt, my breasts. My hips bucked in time with my syllables, orgasmic release just a word or two away. I was just a swear word away from squirting into my skirt; all I needed was to say my name.

"I'm your fuck toy! No, I mean I want you to use me like a cheap whore!" An orgasm unlike any I've ever had ambushed my body and sent me into convulsions. Moaning and screaming out what an exhibitionist slut I am, how I crave others to want me, I fingered my rock-hard clit over my skirt and tugged my nipples into painful ecstasy as wave after wave of intense pleasure consumed my entire body. The orgasm came from within, starting in my mind and then assaulting my flesh. It was unlike a purely physical orgasm, but just as intense, more intense in some ways.

Words echoed in my head. "Ten times harder than you’ve cum in your life; a thousand times hornier than you've ever been." The snapping fingers and the soft, slow-spoken numbers came into focus as the room lit up around me once more.

“Three, wider and wider awake. Two, feeling a hundred times better and a thousand times hornier than you’ve ever been. Fully awake, wanting to go to sleep on my command. ONE!”

My boyfriend was hotter than I ever realized! Those tight muscles of his rippled with every breath. That massive cock of his, I could sense, would make me cum as soon as I touched it. His clothes were cut perfectly to show off his body—the best, sexiest body I’ve ever seen. Just looking at him made my cunt gush with desire. That smile! Those eyes! His eyes held me, subdued me, made me want to fuck him.

Oh, wait! He’s not my boyfriend…not yet. He was a client here in the strip club I worked at. He was going to be my boyfriend real soon if I had anything to do with it. He told me how hot I was, how much he loved my freckles and pale skin. I’m not supposed to do anything but milk him for money, but I desperately wanted to milk him for cum. Fuck the club rules! I’m going to seduce him, fuck him, right there. They can all watch; I want them need them to watch me fuck him. I don’t care if I get fired. I’ve never been this fucking horny in all my life.

“Are you ready for your special dance?” I purred out as I crawled over to him on my hands and knees. My pussy juice was dripping down my thighs.

"I didn't pay for a dance," he said to me. His voice brought visions of me fucking him, taking his cock into my mouth, and sucking on it until he spewed his seed into my mouth. It would taste like honey, I knew.

Climbing onto him, ignoring his words, my legs straddling him, skirt lifted to show him my wet cunt and trimmed pubes, I told him, “first the house rules. You can touch me, anywhere. I like that. You can call me anything you want; I’m your fucking whore, got it? I’m going to make you hard and I won’t stop until you cum. I need you.”

Grinding on that huge cock instantly made me hornier than I’ve been. My clit throbbed with urgency. Humping that cock on my bare pussy, taking his hands and begging him to abuse my tits, head buried into his shoulder to muffle my moans of pleasure I came instantly, as soon as I began humping him. His strong arms holding me, my ass pounding up and down on his lap, he looked me in the eyes as I came. His stare sent jolts of pleasure through my soul.

As I came down from my orgasm he said one word to me, the word that my subconscious needed to hear more than anything. “Sleep.”

Damn, I felt fantastic. It was so much fun forgetting my name and being a horny stripper. I wanted to do more things like that. Barely controlled desire coursed through me; I could only imagine what sex was going to feel like, had to have it soon. Simmering just below the surface was an orgasm, a spiritual orgasm. The pre-orgasmic feeling, right before you explode in bliss, was with me. A simple nudge, a touch, even a glance or a word would make me cum. A word! I knew it! There was a word that would take this itching need and make me cum.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” the hint dripped with all the eroticism my voice could muster. “Something that will make me feel good?”

“What word?” he asked innocently.

“Don’t play coy, you fucker! Make me cum!” Fine. I’ll tell him the word.

“Para…” it wouldn’t come out. “Say it, please.” I was unable to say the word that would make me cum. Fuck!

“Para…” he paused. “chute?”

“No, damn it! Please say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say the word.”

“Paramecium?”

“Please, I need you to say it?”

“Do you know what will happen when I say it?”

“Please say the word for me!”

“What will you do?”

"I'll suck your big fucking cock and swallow your cum. I'll take you in my ass and then suck your jizz. I’ll do anything if you’ll make me cum! I’m your trashy cum slut whore, just fucking say it!”

"Do you want to suck my cock?"

The overwhelming need to suck his cock consumed me. Springing up and pulling his pants down I was amazed at how big and thick his cock is. It was as thick around and as long as a can of shaving gel. It was also hard and inviting, beckoning me to take it in my mouth.

Without hesitation, I plunged my mouth all the way down his shaft. Usually, I can barely open my jaw wide enough to get the head in; this time I was relaxed and eager. His sex-lance hit the back of my mouth, going into my throat. I didn't gag; it felt amazing. The feeling of his hard cock pummeling my larynx sent shivers down my core, straight into my clitoris. The deeper and harder I plunged my slutty mouth on his hardness, the better I felt, closer to orgasm.

Fingering myself, barely noting that I was now naked and didn’t recall stripping, I double-teamed myself by hardly fucking his meat with my mouth and abusing my clit with fury. My oral assault on his huge member stimulated my cunt with pleasure I’d never imagined. My fingers stimulated me externally, increasing the sexual fervor.

“Krystal,” Glade moaned out to me.

I looked up, relentlessly keeping up the pace and enthusiasm on his cock. I needed that honeyed sweetness of his cum. I needed, desperately wanted, my own orgasm.

“Paradise,” he said in a commanding voice. He had said the word!

My entire body erupted into a combination of spiritual and physical orgasms. Falling onto the floor, legs shaking, mouth screaming obscenities, the divine pleasures began in my soul, my mind, and my clit and sped through every nerve fiber in my body. My mind blanked; my body surrendered to pleasure; my mouth reminded him that I was his fucking cunt to whatever he wanted.

“Sleep,” I heard.

“Okay,” I admitted with a pleased smile. I felt better than I had in years. “You can hypnotize me. When can we do it again?”

“Tonight, if you want,” he said. “But first let’s go to dinner and then out for the night. You said that you wanted to experience post-hypnotic suggestions.”

“Fuck my slutty ass,” I exclaimed. I was feeling so turned on, a thousand times hornier than I’ve ever been in my life. The overwhelming urge to eat cum was echoing through my conscious mind. I loved the taste of cum; it tastes just like honey. Not having a gag reflex is a big help! I felt zero inhibitions and wanted to really be a huge fucking slut of a bimbo.

“I know exactly what I want to wear,” my voice was excited; I was so happy and relaxed. “I have this gray shiny dress that’s almost see-through! When I wear it without anything underneath you can see the shape of my tits and ass through it. My fuck-hole shows like a beacon because my cunt hair is so red.”

“Aren’t you worried that others might judge you?”

“Fuck them, I don’t care! It makes me fucking horny when they look. I want to go out and flash, fuck myself for everyone to watch, and be your Bimbo Slut. Maybe I can fuck complete strangers in front of you.”

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, smiling.

“I don’t care, but let’s go dancing so you can finger fuck my dripping cunt on the dance floor. Then I want to go to a strip club and get lap dances from the strippers while you watch. I love being watched. Would you like that?”

Glade laughed. “Sounds like…paradise!”

“Uuunnngh!” I moaned. Legs buckling, pleasure unlike any I’ve ever known, an orgasm ten times stronger than I’ve ever had, coursed through me.