The Devil Girl In My Bed
A Smuthunter Story
I got home and I was beat.
It was just one of those long days, just hectic and shitty, and long, and when you get home you’ve got nothing left in the tank.
One of those days that was so shitty you couldn’t even make it to happy hour. That was my day, and I love happy hour.
So, I swear to you, and I’m normally a healthy guy… I mean shit I even do yoga and have one of those juicers I use every day, I had ice cream for dinner, took a shower and went to bed.
Work, home, ice cream, shower, and I was in bed.
That was my night.
Until it wasn’t…
I woke up to a crackling sound in the air and actually rubbed my eyes.
It was hot still, it felt even hotter at night really, so I was naked without even a sheet on me and I was blinking into the darkness.
The ambient light from the hallway and my windows lit my bedroom enough for me to tell something strange was happening here.
There was a cloud of darkness twisting over the foot of my bed. It was twisting on itself sable black mist winding with silver black flashes, every once and a while the vortex made a crack and a pop in the air.
Then a long white leg in a thigh high leather boot stepped out of the clouds and down onto my bed. I’ll admit, amidst the whatever-the-hell-it-was-storm I was still impressed that whatever this being was, she could balance on a mattress with a spiked heel.
It also wasn’t a goat hoof so I was feeling a little better about what was happening.
Then the rest of her ducked through.
She wasn’t tall really, or short, but she had a certain stature.
Maybe it was the boots, or maybe it was the black wings that were as wide as she was tall, or maybe it was the little pointed black horns on her head, but she was certainly something.
And not just because she’d walked out of some sort of otherworldly vortex either.
Maybe it was the, I guess you’d call it a devil’s tail that slithered around her leg like a snake, it’s point looking just as sharp as those horns on her head.
I guess really, it could have been anything.
You know, it could have been that her skin was so white it glowed, like it was drinking in the all the light in the world and leaving her in a soft hazy outline. Or it might have been her black lips, or black nails, or the pile of black hair bound up like some sexy demoness librarian but without the glasses.
As she stood there at the foot of my bed, her left hand moving to start to rub her naked smooth pussy, I realized she looked kind of like the girls my older brother dated in high school, they always kind of intimidated me. But then again, none of them had tits like hers.
They stuck out there like perfectly natural and perfectly fake porn star tits.
She was naked except for the boots, and I mean really naked, and my cock had jumped past being petrified by…by…I’m not a big fantasy guy or a big religion guy or anything so we’ll just call her a devil girl… and right into “I want to fuck her.”
Which seemed like it was on the menu, I mean why else would a devil girl show up in your room and start playing with herself? Like I said, this was all clearly way out of my element.
She was also way into working her clit.
But then again this kind of thing should be out of everyone’s element right?
She wasn’t real, I mean really, she couldn’t be real.
And I told myself that, and then I tried to tell her that, but what came out of my mouth was buh-da-buh-buh duh, and I realized I couldn’t move, and that nonsense I tried to say was a whisper.
So, I just watched her playing with herself, then she started to pinch her nipples with her free hand, then push them up to suck on them while her fingers started to work down into her pussy, sliding a little faster in and out, and that’s when I started to feel it.
Everything she was doing to herself, I started to feel like I was doing.
My hips were bucking in time with her, my lips were sucking and kissing, my hands were groping the empty air and I was groaning and grunting like I was fucking better than I’d ever fucked before.
Then she slip those soaking wet honey coated fingers in my mouth and slid herself on top of me, bouncing slowly as I sucked and licked those fingers clean, gasping and panting, trying to hold back while those blood red, hellfire red eyes burnt a hole in my mind.
I wasn’t groping air anymore, I couldn’t stop rubbing her nipples, it was like she had shown me how to please her just right earlier.
Then, I was gushing, gushing like I’d never cum before in my life, like years of horny adolescent need had been building up, and when I felt the first burst of my load hit me in the face I woke up.
I was covered in cum, like some sort of porn star having a wet dream, and it was just after midnight.
I took a shower, embarrassed as all hell and lucky I didn’t get an accidental taste test of my own goods (look, we all did it when we were younger, we’ve all gotten the after taste kiss too, but it tastes nasty and any time a girl lets me finish in her mouth I feel kind of bad for her), and decided to spend the rest of the night on the couch.
I finally had something like a proper meal, turned on some TV and was out as soon as my eyes closed.
Julia Kline was a sweet woman, a little older, a little more distinguished I guess you’d say, still hot in her way, still a nice body, but not really hot anymore hot. You know what I mean.
I guess she was a real life blond buxom MILF, but that wasn’t really my thing.
I guess that was why it was easy to talk to her.
Yoga, and I mean I’ll be honest I started taking it for the girls in yoga pants but the health benefits turned out to be pretty great too, wasn’t always the best place to talk to women.
You know, because they’re there for them and not there to get scammed on by creeps like me, or well meaning not at all terrible creeps like me.
But that was it you know, I didn’t want to fuck Julia, she didn’t want to fuck me, and that’s how we became yoga-buddies.
And you know what, we were also buddies-buddies. She worked half a block away from me, we worked three blocks from our yoga studio, and we’d get lunch together once or twice a week.
She was fun, one of those flamboyant types who you’d have fun having a drink with, and you could tell when she was younger she was probably one of those girls that just got a little annoying the more time you spent with them. But, she’d grown out of that.
Other than that crazy devil girl dream if you could call it a good thing, lunch with her had been the only good part of my day.
But at least it had been a Friday, and I didn’t have to get up too early Saturday. And really, I was so fucking beat, I didn’t get up at all. I just had one of those lazy days where you fall out of being asleep, and shuffle through the rest of your day.
For me that meant taking a wake up shower, realizing my balls were still swollen, and beating it pretty hard before I got out.
Not that you care, but I was thinking of that devil girl and I was working it hard.
I mean really, a dream like that stays with you.
I got out of the shower, got a cup of coffee from the corner coffee place and my phone rang.
It was Julia.
“We missed you in class this morning,” she said with a touch of mock concern.
I sort of shrugged even thought we were on the phone and there was really no point to it. I was staling for time, trying to figure out a good reason why I wasn’t there. I settled with the obvious, I told her I’d had a hard time sleeping.
She made a sort of “Oh” sound with a little laugh almost, “You poor thing, a nice young man like you must really need his beauty sleep.”
She gave me shit like this because she was a fun person, she was a gregarious person too, and it was sort of our thing. It meant I got to make cougar jokes about her; it was a fair trade.
“Was it the heat?” she asked, then she told me it was just too damned hot for her too.
I sort of chuckled and told her I’d had some really weird dreams. When she pressed, because for some reason some people like to hear about other people’s dreams, I just diverted with the old weird dreams you know, just like, weird.
It was the universal affected I don’t want to talk about it by pretending I don’t remember/can’t explain thing.
The she said, “Are you sure, you know you can tell me anything.”
And I guess I really could you know, because we were buddies-buddies, and I told her about the devil girl, but I left out the fact I was a grown man who had a wet dream.
She teased me a little bit more, asking me if that was really such a bad dream, and I guess I sort of admitted to her and myself too I that it wasn’t, that it was pretty hot actually, then we wrapped up after she asked me if I’d hate having it again.
I told her it didn’t seem so bad you know, because good sex dreams, or any dreams I could really remember were pretty rare.
The rest of the day was just sort of boring and unproductive. Kind of a waste of a weekend if you thought about it.
Then, after a long day of nothing I fell asleep on my couch again.
I felt something on my chest and I couldn’t move.
Then I felt something wrapping around my cock, and whatever was on my chest was moving up my body.
I opened my eyes just in time to see starlight white thighs, and a pussy descending on my face.
Then I felt my mouth, able to move even though I knew I couldn’t talk, start to work on its own. I didn’t decide to start eating the devil girl’s pussy, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was getting drunk off her taste and I’m pretty sure her tail was jacking me off.
I don’t know how long it lasted, but everything faded and when I came to, my cock was sore and dripping, and I felt too backed up for words. I struggled to the shower, turned the hot water on, sat down and finished myself off.
It didn’t feel good, it felt necessary, and when I came I just felt dirty.
Partly, I think, because I was starting to realize maybe this wasn’t a dream, or I was afraid that it wasn’t, and partly because I had to do it myself.
She hadn’t finished me, she hadn’t wanted me to finish, but who thinks like that?
Who’s like, “my dream devil girl that was face raping me and giving me a tail job didn’t bring me to completion before I woke up, I better not cum”?
That’s crazy person nonsense.
But so is, “maybe a devil girl’s been dark magic night raping me”, right?
Anyway, on with the story.
If I thought I was tired Saturday, by the time I got out of the shower on Sunday I was crippled.
It was like something had been torn out of my core, something vibrant and important that I needed.
Or I was cumming too much and not sleeping enough. That was probably it.
I slept all day Sunday.
Not really “sleep” sleep you know, but that half-dazed watching TV all day out of it state.
I finally drag my ass to bed, set my alarm, and decide to try and take some precautions. I power up the laptop, find some old fashioned porn, and then when I’m done I’m out for the count.
Until I feel something piercing my neck, then something sharp running down my back and something slithering up my leg, and my eyes open and those hellfire red eyes in that soft silky white face are looking into mine.
I see red blood dripping from her black lips and I feel her breasts pressed against my chest. It takes me a moment to realize I’m inside her, rocking gently while the end of her tail is working its way between my ass cheeks.
It’s softer, narrower than I thought it would be, like a soaped up finger, but instead of me losing my curiosity it works its way into making me gasp and push harder.
I miss the fact we’re flying, I can’t hear her wings beating over the sound of my own panting.
She is clawing my back, I know I’m bleeding but I don’t care.
I feel like meat, like a thing, and I know I don’t matter, I know I’m just a meal.
When her teeth sink back into my neck and I feel my heartbeat pulsing faster, feeding her more, I feel fulfilled.
I guess it’s what it’s like when people find Jesus, I mean, that’s what it felt like.
Then I started to wither, like I could feel myself getting smaller and smaller, and my cock went limp and I just fell out of her arms, down, and down, and down, and I was on my couch and I tasted blood.
It was from my lip, I bit my lip. The rest of me was fine though.
Well, except for the fact I slept through my alarm and felt horrible. When I called in to the office no one doubted how bad I sounded.
Inside, I was panicking, outside I looked like I had run a marathon.
I wanted to take a shower, but I was too drained to stand up and took a bath instead. I don’t know how anyone takes a hot bath in the summer, but the heat was almost too much for me and I nearly passed out. I was chugging water and I was using the bathtub spout to refill my bottle.
I’m only saying this so you can understand how completely physically and mentally ruined I was.
I slept in the tub, woke up to cold water, and struggled to go get a sandwich and a coffee.
Everything was sore, especially my balls. It felt like I needed to jack it, but it felt like nothing could be a worse idea.
Then my phone rang.
“You want to do lunch?” It was Julia.
I told her I was out sick, and she asked me if I was hung over, and I guess because I hadn’t had any human interaction except for her call and my call to work earlier, I just sort of broke down.
I told her how the dreams had gotten worse and that I thought there was something real, or something wrong, and I guess I had started crying because when she told me she’d come over after work I realized I needed to dry my eyes and blow my nose.
I slept until then, but it was exhaustion, and it wasn’t restorative.
Then Julia called me and I buzzed her up.
My job was decent, I had a nice apartment, nice for a bachelor style one bedroom anyway, and it was almost close enough to work to walk, but not really.
I’d gotten decent furniture when I moved in, a nice couch, good chairs, an actual dinner table, you know.
I mentioned to Julia, who’d brought me food and a big orange juice, that she might not want to sit on the couch. I had no idea what had and hadn’t been spilled on it over the last couple of nights.
As I sat there she pulled up a chair, looked me dead in the eye and said, “I think you’ve been marked.”
She had her hair back in a sensible ponytail and was wearing a short-sleeved blouse and some slacks, and as she started to explain what she meant, it sounded even more insane to hear it coming from such a well put together professional woman.
“Being marked is,” and she made sure I was really paying attention to her, “when something outside of you if you believe in outsiders, or inside of you if you’re a little more down to earth, starts to violently manifest in your dream state.”
I asked her why I hadn’t had this happen when I was napping.
“It’s because it happens in deep REM, your naps don’t open your subconscious up to whatever’s marked you or manifesting inside you.”
I asked her what I could do and she laughed.
Then, I asked her how she knew all this stuff.
She didn’t really answer, but she smiled, “I was going to yoga before yoga was cool honey. I might be blond now, but I was a troubled teenager once.”
Then she stopped, and sort of looked back in time, “And a troubled 20 something too. No one ever understood why a natural blond with a nice set would want to dye their hair black and wear unflattering clothes for boys.”
I laughed a little, imaging her as some sort of gothy-tom-boy and everything she was saying was making me feel better. Part of me wondered if I was just having a mini-breakdown. Maybe my last week at work broke me.
I asked her what she thought, and maybe it was because I was so beat, and so tired, and this was all so weird, and I was actually scared, and because she seemed to actually care, it felt really easy to put myself in her hands.
I just needed an answer.
“If you don’t believe in malicious otherworldly forces, then maybe your brain did blow a fuse last week. Either way, we can find out.”
How, I asked.
And she told me to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I didn’t realize I’d done it until she was telling me to focus on the sound of her voice, and let everything else fade away.
Her voice had been so sweet, so concerned, and now it was even softer.
“I’m going to hypnotize you, and we’re going to find the vulnerable part of your mind. If it is all internal, we can find it and we can sooth it and address it, if there is something else inside of you, once we open your thoughts it will not be able to stay hidden and it will lose its power over you.”
I tried to ask her something, or tell her something, but she took me by the hand, covering my hand with both of hers, and said, “If you want to be freed from what’s happening you will let yourself become quiet and focus on my words and not your own.”
She was still sweet, but she was stern then too, like a teacher than genuinely cared or a slightly disappointed boss.
So, I shut up and listened.
“Right now you are very safe with me. You are protected, you are cared for, and you trust me. Before I hypnotize you, please repeat what I’ve said to you if you believe it to be true.”
I felt the warmth of her hands over mine and I felt supported. “I am safe, I am protected, and I trust you.”
It felt nice to feel like I was doing something to make things better, it felt nice to have such positive things to say.
When she said “Thank you,” I could almost feel her smile through her words, and she gave my hand a soft squeeze.
“Your mind is very tired right now, your body is drained and exhausted, and you feel diminished. Your mind is leaking, your focus is wavering, and your body feels like it is collapsing.”
It all felt right, she was holding me by the wrist with one hand and stroking the back of my hand with the other. Her tone had become soft again, sympathetic and almost encouraging. I was feeling sort of drunk, kind of.
“You have a deep need to let go, you have a deep need to escape these feelings.” She was repeating those words over and over, and then it felt like my body had flattened out and filled up the couch, like I’d become liquid that was spreading out to fill up a container.
“Give yourself permission to escape, let your mind open and let go. Let go and see yourself smiling, sleeping, happy, escaping from the moment, let yourself go.”
I thought I might have slipped out of my body, like some kind of out of body experience right?
I was watching myself lying there on the couch, and even thought I looked haggard and pale, I was smiling and I could see her holding my hand still.
I knew there was nothing else I could do, I knew I wasn’t needed anymore, and I followed her voice up and up, and I was gone from everything.
Then I felt something happening in my head, I was feeling a thought, I was feeling words in my head doing something, like gears turning, and I woke up with a start.
I looked up at Julia, who was still holding my hand, and she was smiling. Her voice was still very tender, but it was a little more enthusiastic.
I kind of blinked, and kind of stretched, and fumbled with my words and realized I was sort of half laughing.
“It’s ok, laughter is a sign of deep profound trance. Your body and mind are recalibrating to your conscious mind coming back into awareness and synchronizing with the rest of your greater self. You also might feel a little cold, like after a deep massage.”
She could tell I wanted to talk, or get up, or say something, so she just looked into my eyes and said, “Rest, rest your mind, rest and listen. You want to rest.”
It felt nice, I really did. I didn’t close my eyes, I just remained still, and I did feel a little cold.
“If I were to ask you how you feel right now, would you feel good?”
I nodded and gave slurred a yes.
“If I asked you if you feel relieved right now, would you feel lighter?”
I did about the same thing.
“If I asked you if you feel whole again, would you feel complete?”
This time I realized how much I was smiling and I got out a full yes.
I wanted to ask what happened to me, and what she found, but before I could work myself up to it, she let go of my hand and stood up.
“Close your eyes and escape back to sleep. Sleep deep, you need it.”
I felt myself agreeing without saying a word and rolled over on my side, facing the back of the couch.
I slept through the night, and she must have let herself out because she was gone when I woke. I was up early enough to clean up and make it to work, and I felt great.
I was cured.
Then I checked my bank accounts and nothing made sense.
I hadn’t gone to happy hour on Friday, I’d gone straight home, but there was a charge on my card from the bar we always go to. It was a big one too, more than one person’s worth at least.
I saw it during my lunch break, and instead of calling or anything, I went by when I got off work to straighten it out.
The bartender, who I knew, assured me I was there on Friday. He said I was there with the same old crowd. I didn’t want to be a dick or anything, and he even said I couldn’t have had enough to black out, but I still ended up talking to the manager for a minute.
The manager dug up my credit card receipt with my signature and everything, and that was me, and I’d picked up the tab for the whole table.
No big deal really.
Not compared to the fact that holy shit, I really did have a mental breakdown!
I apologized for being such a pain in the ass, he laughed when I told him I’d lost my mind, then I had to high tail it to yoga.
I was in the studio when I finally got the last piece of my I’ve-gone-crazy breakdown squared away.
Tanya was a woman who I saw sometimes at the studio. She was fit, she was attractive, she was about my age, and she had long dark hair.
She also had what I would call a porn star body. I mean, yes, I felt like a shithead for thinking it but sometimes when she was in my classes it was hard not just stare at her all the time.
I guess I’d made her into my sex demon.
I mean, that’s what dreams are right? It’s just all your brain nonsense all smashed together.
But it didn’t explain the smile she gave me. It was not a “hi, hello” smile either. It was not a smile you gave someone you’d never said more than 10 words to. I felt twisted for a second then I heard Julia’s voice as she took her spot next to me.
Oh, that was it, she was smiling at Julia.
“You’re looking much better.”
I said something about thank you, and I didn’t do a good enough job of telling her how grateful I was, then I told her about forgetting about happy hour.
If the whole Tanya thing hadn’t thrown me for such a loop I might have noticed Julia’s reaction when I told her about losing track of most of my Friday night. She asked me if I was free after class, but I kind of knew I was pushing it already and told her we could have lunch tomorrow instead.
She said she thought it would be a good idea to follow up on the other night, and I wanted to, but I just didn’t think I’d have it in me tonight and I told her so.
Now let me stop the story right here for a minute. I know you’re going to have a lot of questions about what’s coming next and how I remember any of it, or all of it. Listen, the world I found myself dragged into, all the crazy things that happened to me, you don’t forget things like that.
You might also be thinking to yourself, how is this guy thinking about and remembering something he just said he missed?
I didn’t miss it, I didn’t pay the right attention to it. Remember everything that had just happened to me, I was not really 100% locked in.
Also, there’s another reason, but we’ll get to that soon.
After I got home, I took a shower, ate, watched some TV then went to bed. It was nice to be back to normal, I was savoring every moment of not fretting closing my eyes, of not worrying about things juts getting worse.
If you had asked me a week ago if I believed in repressed memories, I would have said no, and I also wouldn’t have believed in sexy devil girl nightmares that drain your ability to function.
I dreamed I was at the bar, dreamed I was with Julia and some of our happy hour friends, and one by one they all started to leave. Then I was alone with her, and she was sitting next to me.
I remember her talking to me, and having a hard time thinking. I was dreaming of not being able to get my thoughts right, and then I remembered Tanya sliding into the booth with us, and she had her hand between my legs.
You’re probably thinking I’m having another sex dream, but I know it wasn’t, I know it was some sort of repressed memory.
I was feeling so good, almost like I felt when Julia was helping me. But this time her voice was so much firmer, just hidden under this sort of degrading sort of sexy baby talk. I’ve never liked it before, but Tanya’s hand was making me like everything and I couldn’t tell if I was coming or going.
Then I was in the bathroom with Tanya’s lips around my cock and Julia whispering in my ear.
It was one of those single occupancy bathrooms so it wasn’t like we’d be disturbed.
When I woke up I want to say it all made sense, but at the time you could see why I didn’t really trust myself or how to put all the pieces together.
I also mentally couldn’t bring myself to do it, and even though you think you might know what was happening, at the time I had no idea.
Anyway, I made sure that lunch with Julia was in an open public place but that was out of some kind of instinct and not so much by my own design. I guess my brain was starting to look out for me even thought I wasn’t really able to.
I asked her if anything weird had happened on Friday, and this time I told her I thought I had imagined Tanya as my devil-girl because that’s how I thought dreams worked.
She sort of nodded and agreed and said it made sense, and she asked me how I was sleeping, then she asked me to tell her about my dream, and even thought I wasn’t going to go at her head on, something about her tone really made me want to tell her. She said that “You can tell me anything” line and I agreed.
Yeah, you’re right, looking back I can tell she’d hypnotized me, probably more than once, but at that moment, when you’re acting on a trigger, it doesn’t really feel alien, it feels like it’s you. I’ve been told it’s because it is you, at least in conventional hypnosis.
Then, she did something I wasn’t expecting, something that worked way to well on me at that moment.
She laughed and smiled and told me we’d been drinking, and yes she tricked me into a little trance so I’d be able to get home and go to sleep, and she was sorry.
Clearly it opened up something in my mind, and all my tensions all mixed together and her suggestion backfired.
When she told me I’d be able to have the dreams I wanted, that I’d be able to let go of everything, my already stress scrambled brain got even more mixed up.
When she told me about freeing my deep anxieties, as she explained, it must have unlocked the sexual intimidation I’ve always had for girls like Tanya, who really did look like the same kind of girls my older brother would have dated.
Then she asked me if I really think I would have forgotten something like what I said happened in the bathroom happening to me.
That was lunch.
I got a phone call from Julia that night before bed, and she was just being a good friend and checking on me.
At that movement I felt really lucky to have her as a friend. Honestly, I hadn’t really cared that she’d tried to help me and it backfired. At least she tried.
That night I awoke to the sound of the walls of reality tearing down around me.
I was in a vortex of black and purple fire, my body was chained to a slab, and there were bars across my neck and forehead, pinning my head flat.
I felt her riding me, saw her black wings spread out, and felt her tail snake across my lips invading my mouth.
I felt her laughter when I started to buck my hips and cum, and she didn’t slow down, didn’t let me stop. She was punishing me, I was being revere cowgirl torture fucked by a devil-girl who making me suck her tale, the same take she’d fucked my ass with.
I was crying and sobbing, and the worse I felt the tighter her pussy got until I was yelling and screaming, waking myself up with my own nightmare cries, covered in cum, tears running down my face.
There was a text on my phone waiting for me: I unlocked her.
It was from Julia.
“What the fuck!” It was her lunch break and I was yelling at her through my phone while I sat on my couch.
Of course I’d missed work again, it was like the good days I’d had were erased and I was worse of than before.
“Listen to me and relax, “ her voice was so strong and so certain it really did make me pause for a second and take a breath. “You need to listen to what I have to say don’t you?”
Like a robot I agreed and repeated back what she’d just said. I knew she was in my head but it all felt so reasonable that I didn’t realize she was pulling my strings again.
“I know you do,” she was condescending but she was also encouraging, “you need to listen and accept everything I tell you to. I’m going to lock her up again if you accept what I’m saying. If you fight me, I’ll let her continue to have you. You understand this don’t you?”
I said I did, and in the world I was living in, that was somehow the most reasonable explanation anyone could have given me.
‘You’ve been marked, it’s just like I said. I just left you the fact that I marked you.”
I felt cold all over, but the sound her voice was like a python slithering around my mind and body.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to get to this point, and you don’t realize it, but I’ve been helping you along. I’ve been gently suggesting certain things to you, slowly conditioning you to respond to very slight and very subtle suggestions. You’re not the kind of person that I could just out and out claim, your mind was too guarded, too skeptical and too suburban really. You didn’t have enough imagination for me to be able to out and out hypnotize you, so I had to lead you to the well first.”
In my mind hundreds of conversations and moments where she was using certain body language, or words, or a touch all came flooding through me. I was watching myself getting little puppet strings tied all over my body.
“Then, when your job did the real work, when the job made you thirsty enough to drink, there we were. But your mind was still a little too mundane to do the work I needed it to.”
Her words were piling up, I couldn’t think of an argument or a reason to stop listening, I was just beaten by the sound of her voice.
“Most men wouldn’t need something more, most men are man enough to realize I’m what they’ve always wanted, but you’re still a boy at heart, still a little boy with little boy dreams, and little boys dream of girls like Tanya.”
There was a pause while she had a sip of her coffee probably.
“So when you were drunk, and when you were a little more cooperative, I put her in your mind. You’re such a basic thinker that you twisted all of your anxieties into her and made her a devil. Instead of just dreaming of a sexy girl every night wearing you down into a more submissive state, you created a nightmare for yourself.”
I’ve listened to this conversation plenty of times, I was smart enough to record the call, this is actually what she was saying to me.
“It ended up working out better than I thought it would. My hold was so deep in your mind that you even imagined she was in on it. I’m sorry to say that I might think you’re cute in a certain kind of way, but she would never bother with you. No woman other than me would ever bother with you, especially not her.”
That snapped a switch in my brain and I had this horrible realization that everything Julia was saying really was right.
I was terrible, and only she cared about me.
“When I came over the other night and sealed her up in your head, I finally thought I’d finished you. I thought I’d broken you down and claimed you, but you couldn’t even get that right because you’re too boring a thinker. You had to piece everything together, and then you started to unravel what I’d done to you. And honestly honey, you’re not worth anything to anyone else, but you have something for me otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered in the first place.”
She’d become mocking, but sweet about it. It was doing hell to my cock, every time she said something shitty to me I felt terrible and it made me want to start beating off. I was angry, and ashamed, and horny all at once.
“So here we are. I undid the seal last night and in a couple of days you’ll be begging to be my slave. She’ll come to you and destroy all of your self-worth, all of your strength and emotional security, and she’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll know you don’t deserve anything better, because nothing can be better. I’ll let her ruin you, your mental health, and your sex life. I’ll let her ruin your job, your friendships, everything, and you won’t be able to ask for help because you know you deserve it don’t you?”
I saw all of this happening.
I whispered a sad sort of “please no” to her and she laughed.
It was that same big, fun, life of the party laugh.
“So you don’t want that to happen?” She was teasing me, her words were being carried by a chuckle.
I gasped out a no.
“Good then. When you hang up the phone, I want you to close your eyes and think the word escape. Think the word escape over and over. You will do nothing else.”
Then the phone clicked, I closed my eyes and started to think “escape” until there was nothing.
She came over that night, she came over late that night.
I had been in a daze ever since she hung up on me. I don’t remember eating, or doing anything, but when she arrived I was on my couch watching TV. She had let herself in. She had a key.
This meant, and I didn’t realize it until everything was done, that she could have come over and done whatever she wanted to me. But instead, she made me want it, she made me ask for it and need it.
I don’t know how she entranced me when she arrived. I don’t think it was very elaborate, it may have been as easy as saying a few words to me.
But this time, this time she made sure what happened was burned into my mind.
She stripped down in front of me, straddled me in my captivated state and just started fucking me.
She was slow and gentle, she was making love to me really, whispering in my ear about how I would finally belong.
She was kissing me and touching my face, and chanting in a language I didn’t understand, but I knew I was telling her I loved her.
She scratched a symbol over by heart while she rode me, she drew blood with her fingernail and used it to draw the same symbol over her breast.
I was accepting what was happening.
The mark was a mark of the flesh now, the mind had bowed down and the body would belong.
She was chanting that over and over as she sweetly and tenderly made love to me.
I told her I loved her, and that I belonged to her.
Then, the devil-girl stepped out of the shadows.
Julia slid off of me, hard and aching, and she kneeled down before Tanya, who touched Julia’s cheek like you would pat a dog’s head.
Without a word, Julia rose and pulled me to my feet and then kneeled in front of me, ass in the air, presenting herself to me. Tanya, whose wings were spread out wide and whose eyes spoke only commands, looked into mine and I started to fuck Julia harder than I’ve ever fucked anyone.
I was staring deep into the devil girl’s eyes as Julia started to serve her mistress.
Then all was spent and all was quiet, and Julia was still on top of me, moaning in my ear as my body shuddered.
I asked her if it was real, and she kissed me hard.
“Yes”, she whispered, “She is the mark between us, I serve her as you serve me, she is the bond. We made her together, we serve her together.”
Julia was in my life for a couple more years, and even thought she had brainwashed me with hypnosis and occult magic and practices, they were good years. But even slaves and mistresses change over time, and when she cut me loose, she referred me to a woman that could help deprogram me.
Writing all of this down, telling this story is all part of the healing.
Some of the time I sit with my deprogrammer and we listen to that phone call and she explains how and why I responded the way did.
She explains how my mind was manipulated and how and why Julia could and did trick me into responding the way I did.
But every once and a while she shows me something, she takes me to a deep place where I know rationally I could just be in a trance, but I see the devil-girl again and she speaks to me.
It might be part of my therapy, part of my healing, but sometimes I wonder if my dreams of the devil-girl are just dreams.
But I mean it makes sense after all, Tanya is the one helping me get better.