Feminine Allure

Sent into Bliss

by me_chan


Minutes, or days later, my conscious mind awoke to the fading sound of another crisp snap. She was there yet again. My dream had appeared before me again, and I wish I knew her name. I couldn’t give her a name at the time; from my point-of-view, “She” was apt enough. The world stopped when She came into view, and it changed orbit and every direction with that snap She brandished.

I woke as She had instructed, yet my senses felt faded still. This beautiful creature knew what I was feeling; She knew and had access to my inner dimmer switch, and those fingers teased it as She brought it down slowly. Softly. Soft and hard. How hard the force of her snaps it me, eliminated the question of if. When She determined, and what She wanted, was the only relevance.

My nose became more aware of her perfume getting strong; She was coming closer. She guided me as I felt light-headed enough to faint. I was directed to a seat, and I noted with joy how the comfort of the seat felt eclipsed. To this day I couldn’t tell you whether it was a seat or a bed—my back was nowhere near as stimulated as my front. She was so close, nearness, touch, perfume; I was being introduced to my submissive self. My senses quickly made a pact to shut out the rest of the world and focus on her.

Fingers at my temples moved my head directly to hers. My focus moved from her lips to her eyes, and I knew where I was supposed to look now. She had eyes as bright as the sun. Better than the sun as my eyes studied the endless quality and radiance that only blinded my mind. Though, like the sun, her beauty is now imprinted into my retinas. The longer I looked, the more I saw, the more I wanted to see, and the easier everything became. I barely noticed her hands stroking mine in a way that was loving and approving. My eyes widened at the pleasure of knowing She approved of me. She said nothing all the while; I wanted her to, but She certainly didn’t have to.

I felt like an obedient and still window; all of me was becoming clear and transparent, and her essence shined in and warmed my soul, giving it energy and purpose.

“Are you ready?” My ears heard. I was beyond asking what, and couldn’t stress enough through my expression “yes”.

* * *

“Then take this,” she cooed. She knew my hand was in the air before I did, as the sensation in that hand returned once my fingers clasped at a thin metal chain. A small crystal pendant came into view, and my eyes against my will followed it instead of her.

“You know what to do,” she spoke with confidence. I knew the basic rule of a swinging pendant and I followed it, back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

“Baaaack and fooorth.”

“Baaaack and fooorth.”

“Baaaack and fooorth.”

Her voice echoed in my head, with the added mystery of not knowing if She was speaking, or if I was imaging what She’d say.

“Impossibly, the pendant is swaying in your hand. No, it’s swaying in your mind. Your hand is gone. The crystal is framed in utter blackness yet shines blindingly.”

Time stopped.

Perception was reduced to the light from the crystal for a time. Flashes were like strobe lights, each revealing a scene disconnected in time.

And I came back to myself suddenly. I blinked a few times, aware of all faculties available to me again. And I see her sitting near me, a curious smile on her face. She reached and took the crystal from my still elevated hand.

“You did know what to do after all. I’d love to know what was going on in that head of yours.”

Instead of trying to respond, I noticed an open wine bottle and glasses nearby. I reached over and poured her a glass and then myself. She sipped as I took in a little more than usual, noting how dry my mouth felt.

After corking it, I saw a small stack of CDs near the wine.

“Iggy & the Stooges’ Raw Power?”

She chuckled at my question I thought I asked in my own head.

“I do like that one, but I meant the other one below it. It’s much more appropriate; play it for me.”

In retrospect, I wanted to ask questions my confused conscious demanded answers to.

Whose place was this?

When did CDs come up in the conversation?

Was I just commanded to do something?

What was I imagining so vividly before I woke up?

It’s really amazing how a beautiful woman you’re alone with can keep inquisitive parts of you quiet. Maybe the most important question to ask was “who is She?” I wouldn’t have been too embarrassed to ask that if it didn’t feel so....right. Problem was (if I were to really call it a problem), it did feel right.

So there were no questions, just me taking the blank CD She mentioned to the CD player on the stereo, putting it in and pushing play.

Anticipation was the only feeling to follow.

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