Mrs. Potter’s Wheel

“…and how are we feeling now that we’re here?”

It was day one of a three-day weekend, and as he walked into his neighbor’s condo, Edmund felt his tension in his shoulders bristle. He felt it make them rise up, and he felt the tension hum through his posture, making him hunch forward more than was healthy.

“I’m, I don’t know. I’m just so tense all the time, I don’t know if I can really be more nervous or uncomfortable.” He smiled at his neighbor, Mrs. Constance Potter, who had offered to hypnotize him to help him relax.

Edmund, being at his wits’ end, had said yes.

They’d been at a Home Owner’s Association meeting, and she, friendly as always, had been chatting with him and noticed how tense he always seemed to be. He was always tense, it was easy t pick up on, he was just an anxious person, and he didn’t do well with managing stress as a whole.

There was something unsurprising about Mrs. Potter revealing she was a hypnotist. The woman was magnetic. She had dark brown eyes, eyes that were almost black, that always sparkled. They had a way of looking at you, looking into you, and they were so dark it made the light they caught glimmer that much more.

She had crow’s feet, her chestnut brown hair was still thick but there was some gray, and she was on the heavy side of curvy, but Edmund had never really checked her out that way. He didn’t really have an opinion on her features, but he passingly thought she was still pretty. 

He was in his late 20s and she was in her, he never asked but thought maybe early 50s? It didn’t matter, she was sweet, and friendly, and truly engaging. He liked talking to her, and he was always surprised at how boring her husband Dale was. He didn’t come to the meetings very often, and was a pleasant enough, but completely forgettable… and maybe ten years younger than her. Dale was the most non-descript guy Edmund had ever seen, and Edmund saw himself every day in the mirror.

It wasn’t that he thought of himself as unattractive, it was more that he knew he was also a pretty plain looking guy. He thought of himself as plain, but in a handsome way, whereas Dale was utterly forgettable.

“Oh sweetie, I know, I’ve helped a lot of people who have been where you are. Let’s get you started, I have everything I need right through here.” She led him into a spare bedroom that was converted into an office, and he couldn’t believe what he saw. 

There was a low backed cushioned chair in front of a desk with a black and white spiral on a wheel. The wheel was plugged into the wall socket and was already on, spinning in a slow, steady swirl.

“When I was starting my training, did I tell you I met my husband just after I completed my hypnosis certification, well, I learned that there’s a certain level of theatricality that speaks to some clients to help them into trance. The spiral here is a wonderful piece of theater that works wonders, and what I learned through treating anxiety and tension issues is that some gentle massage also helps. So please, have a seat in the chair, and focus all of your energy on the spiral as it spins. I assume you’re fine with me touching you eventually, if you’re not, let me know.”

He smiled and shrugged and said, “That’s fine, I’m comfortable with it” as he sat down.

Dale was wearing a long sleeved tee shirt and jeans, and she was wearing a long, navy blue skirt with white flowers, and a baggy, gray, loose turtle necked sweater with her hair up in a bun. 

“Just focus on the center of the spiral, and take a deep breath in. And as you exhale, just feel yourself sinking into the chair and getting used to the sound of the motor’s hum. You’ll notice soon enough that the sound is going to fade away, and as you just stare at the spiral now, watching the black and white twisting, swirling together, that everything else can also start to fade away at the edges.”

There was an electric hum as the wheel spun counterclockwise, and Edmund hardly noticed the change in Mrs. Potter’s voice as she stood behind him. “We have all the time in the world, so just take your time feeling what you’re starting to feel, and letting yourself notice what you can open yourself up to feel.”

Her voice was different in a way he couldn’t put his finger on. There was always something smooth about her speech, and there was always something patient about her, something solid and put together, something magnetic about her that made her being a hypnotist not so surprising. Or as not surprising as anyone being a professional hypnotist could be.

“Take a nice deep breath now,” he did, and he felt himself blinking as the spiral kept swirling, and he noticed a real appeal to the illusion of the spiral. It did feel like it was pulling him in, it really was fascinating. “And as you breathe out, just close your eyes for a second. Let yourself just do what I tell you to, and give yourself permission to let this process continue to work.”

His eyes closed, he was following along because he wanted to cooperate, and this seemed like the way to do it. He felt himself sinking down into the chair just a little more, and down into himself. It felt like he’d been standing on his toes, and now he was flat on his feet.

“Now just take another deep breath, and as you breathe out, open your eyes and refocus on the spiral for me. Just let a deep relaxing breath enter into your body and flow through you, and as you breathe out and open your eyes, let that breath carry out any tension or noise you feel on the surface of yourself. Just breathe out and feel it happen now.”

His eyes opened as he exhaled, and he felt Mrs. Potter’s hands on his shoulders. She started to massage him as she spoke, “Now, just breathe and look deep into spiral again. Let yourself continue to breathe out any tension you’re feeling, and let me help your mind and body to relax even more. Let your breath carry away your stress and your tension, and let the spiral pull you in now, pulling in your focus more and more, guiding your awareness out of your own head, and into the center.”

Her fingers gently, but firmly dug into his shoulders, “It feels good to let go, and it feels good to just let everything else that comes and goes into your mind just flicker and fade. You can just focus on the spiral, focus on my wheel as it spins around, and un-focus on your inner thoughts.”

“Focus on the spiral,” her thumbs worked into the base of his neck, “and un-focus on yourself. Feel your body relaxing under my touch, feel yourself just relax more and more, letting your body and mind become clay under my fingers, clay for my wheel, and let me shape you, let me mold you into a more relaxed, and more peaceful lump of clay now. Let your figure go, let your form go, and just close your eyes…” he felt her thumbs dig into deep knots between his shoulder blades, “and sink deeper now.”

Edmund let out a deep sigh and felt his head tilt forward as a wave of relief spread through his neck and shoulders.

“How does that feel? Does it feel good to let yourself feel like clay now?” Her fingers brushed down his shoulders and his upper arms like she was smoothing him out.

“It does,” he wanted to tell her how good he felt, and it felt like he couldn’t keep the words inside, “It’s nice.”

“Yes,” she dug her thumbs between his shoulder blades again “it does feel good. Good at relaxing. Now I want you to open your eyes again, open your eyes and let our mind be blank and still, loose and unformed like fresh clay, like my voice and my fingers have kneaded you down, out of your flimsy old shape, down into a lump. Sit in my chair and stare at my wheel like a happy lump of unformed clay because a lump has no shape, and a lump can’t hold any stress, not like a bowl or a cup, not like a waking, aware person. Just focus on my wheel now, follow the spiral, and let it pull everything out of you so you can just be my new lump of clay.”

Mrs. Potter’s fingers worked deeper into him, deeper between his shoulder blades, and again, he felt her unlocking something in him physically. As he focused on the spiral now, doing it out of habit, feeling it just happen, only the Mrs. Potter’s wheel of swirling black and white felt stable, and he felt his own body loosen.

“Be formless,” her voice was closer now, he felt her breath as she whispered into his ear. “That’s right, let go, be formless, lose the shape that carries all of that stress and tension, lose your mental and physical shape as a kneed you into deeper relaxation, deeper into the center of the spiral now.”

Edmund felt her hands on either side of he neck, and felt her fingers on the sides of his jaw, “Close your eyes and let your mouth open just a little, loose and relaxed now.”

“Relax. Loose, limp, formless now. Just a lump of clay now. Unformed, unfocused, loose, limp, formless and so deeply relaxed now.” She worked her thumbs into the base of his skull then whispered, “How do you feel Edmund? Do you feel relaxed and empty now?” 

He felt her hold his head in her hands and gently move it, making him nod along as he replied with a low, slow “Yes, yes I do.”

“Don’t you just feel like a lump of clay?” her fingertips traced up his face and pressed softly into his temples, then started to massage them in tender but meaningful circles.

He as going to agree with her, but the feeling of her fingers broke his concentration, and her touch opened up another low, relaxing sigh.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Now Edmund, open your eyes, open your eyes and look at my wheel. You’re a loose, limp, unformed and soft lump of clay under my fingers, and it’s time to shape you on my wheel. Look at the spiral in the center, see only the spiral, black and white swirling and swirling, light and dark merging together, focusing and un-focusing, eyes opening and closing, closing and opening, everything is one and the same now.”

He felt soft from head to toe, and his proportions felt different. His arms were resting on the low backed chair’s arms, and he felt like he was spreading out in it, and that there was less of him at the same time. As Mrs. Potter massaged his temples, she felt him also moving his head gently from side to side, and it felt like his entire spine was moving like he was heavy and weightless all at once.

The room around him felt vast and empty, but the wheel, the spiral, felt even bigger. It was all consuming, and as he blinked, as his eyes would close for a time, then open again, and as her voice became distant, and her words a soft, whispered blur in his mind, he eventually felt himself falling… falling…

“Edmund, your mind and body are soft and malleable as clay now, claw for my wheel, and I’m going to reshape you, I’m going to remake you into something, into someone who is going to be an empty vessel. I’m going to reshape you and mold you into an empty vessel now, an empty pot that I’m spinning on my wheel. This makes sense, because you’re clay under my fingertips and under my words, and I’m Mrs. Potter, and potters shape clay don’t they?”

She still had his head in her hands and was still gently, persistently massaging his temples. It felt like her fingertips had sunk into his brain, and as she spoke, as her words filled his ears, they guided her fingers into his brain, massaging his thoughts away as they flickered in and out of his unfocused, unaware mind.

“Answer me Edmund,” she nodded his head for him, and he felt her fingers pushing on the parts of his brain that made him talk. “I am Mrs. Potter, and you are clay, what do potters do with clay?”

“Potters shape clay.”

She stopped massaging his temples and started stroking down his face with both hands. “That’s right, and you’re here to be remade so you can be more relaxed and free of stress. That’s why you’re just a lump of clay now, and now as you watch the spiral swirling your mind is on my wheel. Feel my touch, feel me shaping and reshaping you. Feel my fingers brushing against your mind as it spins now.”

Edmund felt her softly holding his head, and gently pressing her fingertips into his forehead. He felt himself leaning back under her touch, leaning back until the back of his head was resting… on her breasts?

It didn’t matter, the spiral was swirling, the wheel was spinning, and her words, like her fingers, were sinking into his mind.

“You’re so relaxed now, so formless now. You were so brittle, so fragile from your stress, but now you’re broken down, empty, relaxed and formless.” He felt her fingers press into his head gently, then slowly start to caress his face before cradling him against her large, soft, welcoming breasts. “Empty, formless, and relaxed now. Empty of everything, empty mind, formless mind, relaxed mind. Just the raw material, just the clay. Now as the spiral swirls and the wheel spins, feel your mind starting to take shape foe me.”

Edmund felt her palm against his forehead, pushing his head back into her breasts even more, and her other hand rest gently around his throat holding him. “Watch the wheel spin, and feel my touch on the lump of clay that is you. Surrender to the spiral and feel your mind forming under my touch now. Feel it taking shape, soft, wet, malleable and ready. Read to take a new shape, a simple shape,”

Her hands moved slowly back and forth across his forehead and throat, and her breasts pressed more firmly against the back of his head, “See your mind as a perfectly round, perfectly smooth bowl now, gray and plain, gray matter shaped to be filled. The mind fills with everything, like a bowl, but now you are empty, nothing, only starting to take shape under my touch. You want this, to be remade, to be free from stress, to be made better. I’m making you better, better than you were, and you, bigger, and stronger, and I’m going to fill the bowl of your mind, so there is no room for stress, and no room for tension. It’s what you want, see it in the spiral, it’s what you need Edmund.”

“Feel my touch, feel the gray bowl being shaped, thick sides, and deep and wide, feel your mind growing sturdier, stronger, wide and deep. That’s right, the wheel spins and the sides rise, the wheel spins, the spiral swirls, and the mind takes the shape I give it. Feel it happen now, feel your mind become wide, deep and strong, wide, deep, strong, and empty.”

“Empty,” her voice was as soft and penetrating as her touch. 

“Empty,” she was rubbing her hands over his face, and eyes.

“Empty, “ Edmund felt himself falling away, down into deeper darkness.

“Empty,” he felt his head against her breasts, and lost himself in her warmth. 

“Empty,” her fingers were all over his brain, the perfectly round bowl, so deep and wide, and empty.

Empty.

“…and feeling full of peace and calm now. Feeling so quiet and so deeply content. You can open your eyes and wake slowly now, slowly and easily, breathing yourself into full awareness and relaxation now Edmund. That’s it.”

Mrs. Potter was standing in front of the spiral wheel, smiling at him. The wheel had been turned off, and the room was quiet. Everything felt quiet and calm, and Edmund felt a sense of relief where he usually felt his overwhelming tension. 

Now he just felt… good.

“How are you feeling?” There was a softness in Mrs. Potter’s eyes that he had never noticed before. It was something soft and warm and inviting, and it radiated out from her, especially in her smile.

“I feel,” he felt good, he felt really good but as he looked at her, he was distracted by another thought. She was beautiful. There was something he couldn’t put his finger on, something truly beautiful about her, and something… was he a little turned on… something erotic about her that he had never noticed before. “I feel good. Than you Mrs. Potter, I feel amazing.”

He did, he felt amazing being here with her. “But I don’t remember what happened. Did everything…”

She raised her hand to stop him, “You were a perfect subject, one of the best I’ve ever worked with, and please, call me Constance.”

“But,” she walked over to the door, “I’m sure you’re very thirsty, let’s get you a glass of water and we can talk a little more about what happened.

He followed her to her kitchen and leaned on a counter as she got him some water. He was thirsty, she was right. And as he watched her, Edmund noticed that her sweater wasn’t as loose as he first though. He had a moment of recollection, a flash of feeling the back of his head resting on those tits, those very large tits, and his mind wandered to thoughts of her soft curvy body and what it would be like to touch her.

He thought about her weight, and her warmth, how it would feel for her to be on top of him. He wondered what it would be like to be under this buxom, soft, sensual woman, to just feel her smother him in her touch, to just feel her overwhelm him, to just suck on her tits while…

“Oh no,” his daydreams were broken by her exasperation. “This faucet’s been so fickle lately.”

She’d accidentally gotten sprayed, and her sweater wasn’t soaked, but it looked like a spurt of water had ricocheted off something in the sink. He stared at her, captivated as she took  it off to reveal a periwinkle blue deep V-necked tee. She set her sweater aside and finished filling his glass.

Her tits were big.

Big, full, heavy, curvy, beautiful… 

“It’s natural to feel disconnected after such a deep trance, here’s your water, let’s go sit down and you can relax.” She was smiling at him, and he wondered if the sparkle in her eye was some kind of knowing insight into what he was thinking. But, how could Constance guess that? He wouldn’t have ever guessed he’d be attracted to her, and honestly didn’t even know if he was.

He just knew those were nice, big tits.

They sat down at her dinner table and talked for a bit. Constance explained to him that since hypnosis and deep trance were relaxing and enjoyable experiences the mind could be slow in coming all the way back. She also explained that the mind had cycles, like sleep cycles, and that cycling into trance and out of trance didn’t always align with the hypnotist’s suggestions and direction.

Edmund found himself hanging on her every word while his focus continued to hang down in her cleavage. He listened to her explain that when a subject went into trance that they would eventually catch up to the hypnotist if they were a step or two behind, and that it was the same with coming out of trance, and all of that made sense, but his attraction to her large tits, tits that turned out to be deceptively larger than he’d first thought, didn’t make sense.

“Well, I suppose I should let you go,” it wasn’t that he wasn’t a breast guy, it was that she was old, not older but old, and she was heavy, and she was married, and, “but I think you should come back at the same time the day after tomorrow and we can do a follow up to see how you’re adjusting.”

He smiled at her and looked into her deep, dark brown eyes and felt himself wanting to come back sooner, wanting to ask about tomorrow, but also wanting to go along with what she said because she was the expert. He also wanted to stare at those big tits a little longer, more so, he wanted to stare deep into her cleavage, into her softness and just let go.

…and Edmund realized he needed to leave sooner than later, otherwise it would be very awkward to stand up in front of her.

He agreed to come back at the same time the day after tomorrow, and when he found himself back in his own condo, he had his cock in his hand, thinking about those two big, fat creamy tits before he realized it.

There was no stress, no tension, no pressure, there was just this unrelenting desire to think about Mrs. Potter’s big tits, and it took two practically back to back orgasms to ebb his fantasies.

At least until that night.

Edmund dreamed of Mrs. Potter, more so, he dreamed of her soft, heavy, milky white tits wrapped around his cock. He dreamed of those deep dark eyes starting at him from between his legs while he lay in his bed, paralyzed and gushing cum as she whispered, “Hard, thick, strong and empty now” over and over.

The dream was so real that when he woke up he was surprised she wasn’t in his bed with him. But just thinking about her, thinking about that dream made him have to rub one out again. And like the day before, right after his session, he had to do it a second time in short order just so he could get some peace of mind.

The first half of his day went smoothly enough after that, but after lunch he was having trouble focusing. He also realized that any time he wasn’t immediately engaged in a task or activity, any time he was alone with his thoughts, the times he’d normally end up falling into anxious, circular thinking, he’d think about Constance and her pillowy, soft tits instead.

He tried not to think about her as he went about the second half of his day, but the more he tried to occupy himself with other things, the more he reflexively came back to day dreaming about her tits around his cock, swallowing his cock, making it disappear in her cleavage as he gushed and gushed between those tits.

Eventually he couldn’t keep from being half erect and had to jerk off again. This time as he came, he felt empty. He felt like something else was pumping out of him and once he was finished he started to feel a tickle of his anxieties and his constant stress returning.

It was mild, but it was present in his shoulders, and it showed him just how relaxed he really had been after his session. That night, as he closed his eyes and started to slide his hand down between his legs thinking of how soft Constance’s breasts were, he realized he was too tired to masturbate and just drifted off to sleep.

He dreamed of her again, again dreaming of those large, heavy, soft tits wrapping around as his cock, and her eyes staring into his.

“You like tits don’t you Edmund?”

Her dream voice was forceful, it was demanding and powerful. Her dream voice washed over him just like her tits swallowed his cock.

In his dream he moaned out “Yes Mrs. Potter.”

“And you like big tits don’t you?” He dream voice was massaging his mind.

“Yes Mrs. Potter.”

“And since I have huge tits, and huge tits are better than big tits, you must love my tits don’t you Edmund?” He felt her words pressing into the wrinkles in his brain, making him into smooth gray matter under the touch of her voice.

“Yes…” he felt himself starting to spurt all over her tits again, “oh yes… yes Mrs. Potter… yes!”

In his dream he quivered from head to toe as she used her tits to milk out every last drop, “And if you love my tits, you must love me don’t you Edmund. Tell me you love me.” 

Her brown eyes were swallowing him up, swallowing the night, swallowing the world, swallowing reality. “Yes,” she shuddered as she slowly started to fuck his softening, over-sensitive cock with her tits again, “yes. I love you Mrs. Potter, yes.”

In his dream the words gushed out as hard as him cum had, and felt just as good. In his dream, he was unzipped, and everything inside him was spilling out, or pumping into his cock as it started to stiffen again.

“You love me because you are the clay and I am the potter,” he couldn’t move, he couldn’t tell her that her tits were torturing him with ecstasy, in his dream all he could do was lay there and arch his back and tense his body as his cock sent agonizing waves of pleasure through his paralyzed form.

“You love me because I’m making your love into someone, something that loves me. You love me because in my hands, your humanity is clay, your personality is clay, your body is clay, and I am the potter. You love me because I’m making you love me. And now, you don’t just love my huge tits, you’re realizing I am the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.”

He felt her words, her fingertips, and the soft, penetrating, massaging power of her voice digging into his awareness as she spoke.

“Look at me Edmund, look deep into my eyes and see me. I am beautiful, I am more beautiful to you than any woman you have ever known. When you see me, when you are close to me, my beauty intoxicates you, just like my tits enthrall and arouse you. I am more than the way my tits sexually compel you, I am more than the raw, hungry, horny desire you have for my huge tits, or the way my voice and my touch change you. When you look at me, you love me, and you see my beauty. You only see love and beauty, you only see you desire for me. You will never doubt me, you will never second guess me, or suspect me of anything, you love me too much for that. You crave me too much for that. You need me too much for that, and you will surrender yourself to these feelings whenever you’re with me.”

In Edmund’s dream he was rock hard again.

He was gushing out an orgasm again.

He was cumming so hard that he knew he had to be dreaming, because it didn’t seem physically possible he could be doing it so much and so quickly.

“…and just taking a deep breath now as the sound of the motor starts to fade away, just like last time. You don’t need to worry about anything, certainly not just automatically dropping deep again, we’ve only done this once before. Just follow the swirl of the spiral, and let yourself relax into the spinning of the wheel.”

Edmund had woken up to the familiar feel of his ever-present anxiety. His muscles were tight, his mind was busy, and he felt like he’d slept too much even though he hadn’t. His mind raced to the thought of his session with Constance later in the day, but when he thought of her, instead of the flushes of arousal he’d been feeling, he just felt empty.

There was a tingle there, but it was numb and uninspired. Even when he thought about the crazy, filthy dream he’d had of her, his cock still felt uninspired.

When he knocked on her door, and she opened it up to greet him in a high collared yellow dress, and a thin, white cardigan, his cock tingled with a little more motivation. But what he felt between his legs was nothing compared to how he felt staring at her beautiful round face, and her alluring, deep, dark brown eyes. She was beautiful, and it made him wonder how a dude like boring Dale had managed to land her. He didn’t know how anyone wouldn’t be drawn to her curves; yes she was full figured, but anyone who couldn’t see how full of sexuality her figure was must have been blind or brain damaged or…

She’d asked him how he was feeling, and he’d felt compelled to be perfectly honest with her… at least as far as far as his anxiety went. Edmund told her that he’d felt great the first day, and then slowly started to lose that relaxation, and then how he’d woken up to his usual tense self.

But, as she took his hand and led him back into the converted office, Edmund felt like all the tension was draining out of him… or that relaxation was flooding into him.

“I want you to focus now,” Mrs. Potter put a hand on his shoulder, but not to start massaging him, “be in this moment. Don’t think about last time. In fact,” she gave his shoulder a squeeze, “try not to think about last time. From this moment on, I want you to just be here, be in the now, and just watch the spiral. Just watch the spiral swirl, watch my wheel spin, and let’s begin again.”

It was easy for Edmund, it was so easy to listen to her. She was experienced, she knew what she was doing, she knew what he needed to do for this to work, and he just let himself let go and sink into the moment. As the black and white of the spiral twisted together, pulling his focus into the center, he thought about how sexy that experience was. 

He never thought of himself as into MILFs but there was just something about her, something so…

“Take a deep breath Edmund, just breathe and relax, and as you exhale, just breathe out all of your thoughts now.” He felt her hands on his upper arms, her fingers touching the skin under the sleeves of his tee, and the skin to skin contact sent a wave through him that made him melt.

It started with the warmth of her fingertips, but the wave really began at the back of his head. He let out a sigh as he exhaled, and felt his entire body deflate with relaxation while he stared into the spiral. “That’s right, just think about how you feel now, don’t think about how it felt last time, and don’t think about thinking at all, just feel it, feel how you feel…”

He felt her breasts press into the back of his head as she ran her hands down his arms, “and feel yourself letting go now. Let go for me and just close your eyes.”

Edmund felt like he was on roller skates, or a slide, or that gravity was against him, he didn’t know which one. Maybe it was more like being caught in the tide, whatever it was, he was weightless against what was happening, and his eyes closed so emphatically that part of his brain shut down too.

There was no way for him to compare it to last time, since he hardly remembered it. But there was no way not to compare it to last time, because he felt Mrs. Potter’s huge breasts pressing softly into the back of his head, and even with his eyes closed he could still see the spiral swirling like a phantom projection on his eyelids.

“Now then,” he felt her wrap her arms around his chest, “we want to make this session more powerful and lasting than your last session so let’s just,” she started to pull on his tee shirt, “raise your arms, so we can take this off.”

The shirt was off, and her hands were back down around him, rubbing down to his stomach, and back up

It felt risqué, it felt scandalous, but as soon as he felt her hands on his naked chest, he just melted into her touch. Her fingers brushed up his torso as her tits stayed pressed against his head, and as she reached his shoulders, his piecemeal awareness was telling him it was good he was sitting down and that she was behind him so she wouldn’t see the physical effect she was having between his legs.

There was nothing uninspired about his cock now, but there was no time to think about it, no space in his mind to hold on to a thought, and as she started to massage his shoulders, she told him to open his eyes again and look deep into the swirling spiral.

“I’m going to remake your mind again, but first we have to knead the clay, first we have to unmake the mind I made last time,” she leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “it’s okay. Last time was just the first time, and we both learned what you need, and this time will be better.”

She slid her hands around the sides of his neck and held him still, “Now just watch the spiral, watch the swirl, and feel yourself relaxing more and more from head to toe. Just take a deep breath in again, and just breathe out your thoughts, and breathe out your tension. Take another deep breath in, and feel my voice entering your body, touching your tension, just like my fingers, and as your breathe out, feel all the tension on the surface of your body and mind float away.”

She brushed the back of her hand across his cheek and started to rub the back of his head, while her other hand slid around the front of his neck to gently hold him by the throat while she kept whispering in his ear.

“Breathe deeply, that’s right. Breathe deep, relax, breathe out, and sink. Just sink down. Let everything else empty out, let the spiral pull everything out of you. Become the empty bowl, and let me fold the wet gray clay of your mind back into a peaceful, passive, soft and willing, formless lump again.”

Her hands shifted again, up to massage his temples and gently pull his head back to her breasts while she stopped whispering in his ear and started to speak at her normal tone. “Let your mind and body go limp. Let your mind and body go soft. Soft and limp now, limp and soft, soft and limp, limp and soft.”

Strangely, Edmund felt those words flow down his spine, deep into his core, and his blooming erection lost its persistence. He felt it going soft and limp, limp and soft with his shoulders and neck, and the shape of his fading, dreaming thoughts. He felt himself losing his physical and mental shape, and felt like the only thing keeping him in one piece was her hands on his head.

“Limp, soft,” she put one hand across his eyes and pushed him back into her breasts “sleep now.”

“That’s it, lose your shape and lose your form,” she started to caress his face and cradle his head to her breasts, “soft, loose, and limp. Feel your mind and body becoming a lump of clay. Feel the shape of your self falling inward, warm, wet, gray clay now. Open your eyes and look at the spiral again, look deep into the swirl, and feel the spinning wheel leach out all of your inhibitions and all of your concerns, opening you up to being purified, and reshaped again.”

His eyes opened, and he heard her voice and felt her touch as she started to massage his shoulders. He felt her fingers digging into his flesh, and felt electricity tingle through him body with every brush of skin-to-skin contact.

“Last time I shaped you, I didn’t make you deep enough, so I could fill you up with enough of my energy to hold you over until today. I replaced all your anxieties with permission to just think about our relaxing, soothing session together, but it wasn’t deep enough, because energy can be spent, and you spent all of the energy I gave you. This time will be different. But how…”

She leaned in close and whispered in his ear again, “How did you drain so much of the energy I gave you?”

“I masturbated about you,” he couldn’t filter or shape the truth, all he could do was answer directly.

“And,” the word was soft as silk and pushed deep into his soul.

“I had sex dreams about you.”

Her fingers dug deeper into his muscles, and he felt his body getting even looser somehow. Every touch, every deep press of her thumbs and fingers broke apart the remains of his fragile frame, making him more and more of a lump.

“Were they just dreams?”

Edmund groaned with deep relief, “Yes.”

“And what did you fantasize about?”

She had him in her grasp physically and mentally.

“Your tits. I love your tits, and I love you. You’re beautiful and sexy, and perfect, and I need you.”

He didn’t hear her little laugh, “And you feel this way because this is how you feel. This is how you’re shaped to feel, and I shaped you to feel this way because you’re the clay and I’m the potter. But the potter can only make the clay into what it can be, so I’ve only brought your own deepest desires to surface. You understand this, you understand that your desire for me comes from inside of you doesn’t it?”

He moaned his agreement.

“And those were just dreams of me,” she laughed again but he didn’t recognize or register the sound, “just dreams.”

“Just,” his head tilted down and his eyes closed, “dreams.”

He mumbled those two words again before she said, “Open your eyes, and look at the spiral, it’s time for the clay to go back on the wheel.”

“Edmund, listen…”

She started to massage his temples again.

“As the wheel spins, you feel the sound of my voice and my touch shaping you again. It feels good to be shaped and formed. It feels good to have me remake your mind again, deep and wide, strong, and empty.”

She repeated those words over and over as the spiral swirled and the wheel spun, and then she held him by the throat and the forehead again, gently brushing her fingers across both.

“Your mind’s responding to my touch so much easier this time, so much easier to form, and now it’s so much easier to fill. Sleep Edmund, deep sleep.”

He knew this was the moment he should sleep, his mind should go black and to fall away into nothingness, but as she started to caress his face, and brush her fingers across his lips, something wouldn’t let go.

“Whenever you’re stressed, you will think about me, and the more you think about me, the more powerful my suggestions about your own natural desire for my tits, becomes. The more you think about me and my tits, the more you realize that you need me. You need me and my big tits, and my warm, soft body, and my touch. You need my hypnosis to make you calm, to make you peaceful, but…”

She brushed his ear with her tongue, “But every time you cum thinking about me, you lose a little bit of my energy and my presence. You lose me, and feel more of your stress creeping back in. But the more stressed you feel, the more you’ll think of me, masturbate, and drain yourself, making you come back to me for more hypnosis. And you’re so lucky to have me hypnotizing you. You’re so lucky to have a woman with tits like mine talking to you at all really, because you’re a bland, boring man who is just weak, and incapable of managing your anxiety.”

She stuck a finger in his mouth, and cradled her arm around his head, pulling him tight against her tits. “You’re boring, and forgettable, and you have a weak mind. You agree with me, because you’ve always known this about yourself. You’ve always been afraid to admit it, but it’s true, I’m telling you it’s all true, it’s the shape of who you are, and I can only shape you out of what you are.”

He was starting to get hard again, or maybe he’d been hard for a while, but Edmund had a distant, muddled awareness of his body, and of his cock.

“You’re so lucky to be drawn to me, to see that I’m the most beautiful woman you could ever dream of. You’re so lucky to dream of being fucked by my tits, and you’re so lucky that someone as perfect and beautiful as me wants to hypnotize you and help you. But the more you cum thinking about me, the more of me you spurt out and drain out, making all that stress come back.”

Edmund felt his tenuous grasp on his awareness breaking apart as she gently squeezed his throat and stuck her tongue in his ear.

“You’re weak, and plain, and boring Edmund, admit it…”

His eyes closed again, and he didn’t know if he responded.

“…and waking slowly, breathing deeply, feeling your eyes open when they’re ready.” 

Edmund’s eyes opened, and the spiral was still swirling. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, over his shirt, but couldn’t find a way to look away from it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, just close your eyes and sleep.”

The world went dark again, until he felt a hand on his shoulder squeezing softly, “…and waking slowly, breathing deeply, feeling your eyes open when they’re ready.”

The world came into focus, softly and slowly, and he saw Constance standing next to the motionless spiral, smiling down at him. He felt amazing, he felt wonderful, he felt whole, and free, and light as a feather.

And… and as smiled back at her, he noticed her hand move to her chest and brush at her cardigan. He felt an electric charge run through his body, and he felt a twitch between his legs as he stared at her tits.

The were completely covered by her dress, no cleavage, nothing, just their pendulous shape, just the impressive swell, and…

“I’m… I’m sorry Constance. I really, I think I need to use the rest room. I need to…”

Both her hands were up on her breasts, casually brushing at her cardigan, and she just smiled at him. “It’s okay, this was a very long session, I understand.”

Edmund was out of there and back in his condo before he realized that he’d been at her place for two hours.

Two hours?

He couldn’t remember any of it.

It was all a blank… all… he could think about was that beautiful woman and her massive breasts.

All he could think about was how much he wanted to fuck her brains out, how much he wanted her to fuck him, and how good sex could feel if he was in trance. He was jerking off furiously, and he came like a fountain in no time.

It drained him, it made him have to take a nap, but when he woke up, those tits, that voice, those eyes were still all he could think about, and again he was furiously masturbating to her. 

The rest of his day was a soft, hazy blur of things he’d been meaning to get to around his condo. Cleaning, organizing, throwing things out, he moved through his life, through those hours before he went to sleep, like he was swimming… gliding through water, disconnected from what he was doing, but doing more than he thought he could ever get down in an afternoon or evening.

That night as he slept he dreamed of her again.

This time as he felt his cock disappear between her massive tits, as he looked down at her, deep into her eyes as she tit fucked him to the edge, she was silent and stopped before he came.

“You want to give me everything, you want to cum,” she slide up his body and put one hand on his chest while she took his hard, leaking cock in the other hand.

“You will give me everything when I take you inside me.”

He sweet voice was as soft as her hand gently stroking him as she rose to rub her pussy lips against its head.

“You believe in me, you believe in my power, and you will give everything to be inside of me.”

She started to lower herself onto him, her weight was comfortable, her curvy body was warm and welcoming.

“You will…”

Edmund felt himself waking up…

“Give me…”

His eyes were open but he couldn’t move. He was alone in his bed, staring down at his cock as it started to gush like a fountain up into the air.

“Everything.”

Mrs. Potter was there, he heard her, he felt her, but he couldn’t see her. 

He felt her hand on his chest, he felt her pussy welcoming him, sliding up and down as he kept cumming, and he could almost see her massive tits, so much bigger than he thought they were, so much sexier, so much more beautiful than he thought, more wonderful bouncing as she fucked him than when she was tit fucking him…

Everything twisted into darkness, into deep sleep… he was gone… out of body, out of mine, out of his dreams, sucking on her tits, fondling them, begging her, pleading with her to just…

The next morning Edmund woke up to his alarm, took a shower, and when he looked in the mirror he saw a bland, tired face looking back at him. He saw himself, the average, plain, unimpressive man he’d always been, but something didn’t seem right.

He felt his face, it felt the same, but the longer he looked in the mirror, the more he thought he saw something else. It must have been his eyes playing tricks on him, because the longer he stared at himself, the more he thought he saw someone else staring back at him.

He saw someone who seemed more handsome than him, someone who looked like him, but… but it couldn’t be him, he was bland, boring, and his weak face always reminded him of his weaker character.

Edmund realized he was more tired than he thought, but had to get it together and go to work.

It was a long day, and his coworkers all asked him if he was alright, or if he’d had a tough night. He caught his reflection again, this time out of the corner of his eye, and Edmund didn’t recognize the person he saw at first. There was something familiar about the face, something bland, and forgettable, and memorable, that didn’t look like him, but…

…but that was bland, boring, weak Edmund… weak and unremarkable…

But that couldn’t be right?

Could it?

He touched his face again, and he skin felt strange, and his cheeks felt… he had to get back to work. The three day weekend had been long, and a lot had happened, he was just tired… and he wasn’t a strong person… he was weak, and boring, and this was how weak and boring people responded to being tired.

Of course he wanted to be more handsome, of course he was imagining that he could be someone else… could look like… no, it was better not to think about it, better not to…

Those massive tits, tits the size of Constance’s head… huge, bouncing, swaying tits… tits wrapping around his cock, tits he could rest his head on and listen to her voice tits…

Those tits made everything else disappear, and he stopping resisting it.

Then, hours later he was home, his workday done.

“Hello Edmund, won’t you come over for dinner,” Mrs. Potter was in the hallway, having knocked on his door. “Of course you do, why don’t you come over now honey.”

Edmund felt a flush of heat between his legs that crept up to his cheeks. She was wearing a black, scoop necked dress that barely contained her huge tits, and flattered her soft, curvy form. Her thick, deep, dark brown hair was down, and her soft, smooth, smiling face made him wonder how she’d managed to keep her looks and stay so wrinkle free for her…

His mind wandered as she started to talk to him in that sweet, lulling voice of hers, looking deep into his eyes they talked about nothing. He told her about work, and how much easier his day felt, which surprised him, and he let slip over their meal that he’d been thinking about her.

“Have you been thinking about our sessions Edmund? I hope you’ve been enjoying them, and I hope that they’ve been good for you.” She smiled at him over her wine glass and took a sip, waiting for him to answer.

The red of the wine made the white of her breasts stand out, and he wondered just how big they were. They seemed larger, much larger than he remembered and he watched her chest rise and fall so slowly as she took long, linger, deep breaths, deep like her cleavage, deep like her eyes… deeper and deeper… the words echoed in his head, half in memory, half in imagination…

Edmund realized he was still holding his fork, and hadn’t answered her question. He changed the subject for his own sake, “Where’s Dale tonight?”

“Oh,” she waved a dismissive hand by her breasts, “Don’t worry about him, he’s gone. But tell me Edmund, what were you thinking about?”

He watched her fingertips lightly brush the top of one massive breast that was almost spilling out of her dress, and looked back into her eyes. This beautiful woman, this flawless goddess of a woman, his neighbor, his hypnotist, had cooked him dinner and said her husband was…

“Is he out of town for work?” He asked between bites and took shelter in a long drink as she smiled back at him.

“You don’t need to worry about him, just let him slip from your mind and tell me…” her dark, almost black eyes caught the light and sparkled at him. He felt like he was looking at a tiny sea of stars in her eyes, like the night, the deep quiet of the darkest, deepest nighttime hours was settling over his mind, “what were you thinking about when you were thinking about me?”

“Your,” he was still, perfectly still, his breath soft and shallow, his mouth moved on its own and it felt like her eyes were pulling the words out of his, “breasts.”

“That’s very flattering Edmund,” she laughed and the spell was broken. He blushed and couldn’t understand how he’d thought it was okay to say that. “And it’s very natural, but did you think about what I told you, or what we worked on to help you with your stress and your anxieties?”

He started to apologize to her, but before he could get a word out she made a dismissive wave, “You did what I told you to do Edmund, you answered truthfully, now…” her voice dropped and he saw the sparkle of light in her eyes again, softer, and softer… softer and softer… down to her breasts, rising and falling, their gentle swell lulling him into their warmth, deeper into her cleavage, smothering his cares, swallowing him up,  “…did you think about our sessions at all?””

“No…” he paused because he couldn’t remember, “no. My day after lunch flew by, I can’t really remember what my day was like.”

“That’s good,” again her laugh, her sweet, joyous laugh that made her tits jiggle like water balloons broke the spell. “That means what we’ve been working on has been working. Let’s finish up and we can talk more comfortably on the couch.”

She looked deep into his eyes again, and he felt her pressing into his mind, “Finish your meal Edmund.”

Without a word he cleaned his plate and drank his wine, all while she watched him. It would have been awkward, but all he could think about was the task in front of him, and then when it was done, she stood up and he followed her.

Dale, her husband, was out of his thoughts completely, and he felt like he was just existing in space, just an object orbiting around her, caught up in the sexual gravity of her undeniable beauty.

“You know, hypnosis is a very powerful tool,” she sat down on the couch in the living room and patted the cushion next to her, “and it has a tradition that predates our understanding of it. Sit.”

He felt his body respond, and it felt like there was a weight to her words, a tangible, physical external force on his body that compelled him to sit down next to her. As he sat, she put an arm around him and started to stroke his face.

“Hypnotism is a way to create trance, and to create a connection between two people, it is a way to create magic. The idea of spells comes from speech, the word shares an origin, it means to speak, because our voices are our wills, and we can use our words to impose our wills on others. To enspell them, to bewitch them, but magic in our world isn’t what it used to be, and magic requires…”

She stroked his face and rubbed his neck, and every caress made his head tilt forward more and more until his eyes were resting on her huge, heavy breasts, rising and falling slowly with every deep breath she took, “…more.”

Edmund sat there, staring, his body limp under her touch, his mind quiet, soft and slow like her rising and falling chest. “I know you don’t think you believe in magic Edmund, most people don’t, and so magic is just a shadow in our lives, a soft touch and nothing more. Unless…”

She slid her hand between his legs and started to rub his cock over his pants. Edmund felt the urge to move, to say something, or do something. He felt the urge to stop her, but… but she was so beautiful and she just radiated sexuality. He tried to think of a reason not to let her do this, but her breasts were two too big reasons not to resist. And more so, he didn’t think he could.

“…you believe in magic. And that’s where my hypnosis is so helpful, and so powerful. My spells are woven into my suggestions, and when I feel a soul accept me, when I link my will to a receptive mind, and they respond to my suggestions, I push a little deeper into their subconscious, into their spirit, and then the more they take me in, the more I take of them. Do you believe in magic Edmund, tell me truthfully.”

“No,” the word was on his lips before he could think, or moan as her hand compelled wave of pleasure to wash over him and carry him deeper between her breasts.

“Of course you don’t. Even though you think you don’t remember, a part of you knows that in our two sessions I gave you suggestions to notice my breasts more, to make them seem larger in your mind, and to make you more attracted to me, to make you see past my page and my wrinkles, and my weight. I gave you suggestions to think about me, to masturbate to me, and to feel me replacing your stress with sexual desire.”

She was so soft, and so matter of fact about what she was saying that it sent a chill down his spine even while she kept working his cock, sending waves of mind numbing desire and pleasure through his body. He didn’t see the look on her face as she explained these things to him, all he could see was her breasts, breasts that seemed to grow larger and larger in front of his eyes.

“You even know deep down inside that in our first session I gave you a limit of how much of me was inside you. You masturbated it all out so quickly, and you learned the hard way that when I’m gone from your mind all that horrible tension comes back. A part of you knew it was a trick, but you took it, you took my suggestions deep inside yourself because you were desperate. And then there were the dreams.”

She stopped her gentle caressing to unzip the back of her dress and pull it down, revealing an elegant black bra holding tits that were the size of his head, “Desperate, horny, sexual dreams that continued our hypnosis sessions in the dream space… where I could step into your mind following that link, using rituals I know to visit you in your sleep. Those weren’t just dreams Edmund, but they were all in your head, just like my suggestions. But it’s like I told you before, hypnosis is helped by theatricality, and magic is helped by metaphor.”

She pulled his head down towards her breasts and cradled him there, “You cannot understand change as magic, but you do understand clay being molded. You understand the figurative, and magic is figurative, it is the will transforming, it is the world responding to imagination. And you started as figurative clay, but the more you gave me in your dreams, the deeper I could work my fingers into you. Your face is changed, and so is your mind. My fingers have touched your brain, and my will has changed your face. And slowly, over time, everyone will forget what you used to look like, even you will. Slowly, over time, the world will forget what your name used to be, even you will. And slowly,” she pulled out one breast and guided his mouth to it, “over time everyone that ever knew you will forget you and I will keep you until there is nothing left of you, only what I’ve put inside you, and then, like the last Dale, you’ll be gone, and I’ll be young again, young and beautiful as you see me now.”

Edmund’s hands were on her massive breasts, and his lips were sucking on her large nipple, but as she spoke, she slowly pushed him away from her tit, and looked down on him. “Look at me, look at what your energy has given me so far.”

He saw her clearly in that moment, the fog that glamoured her was gone, the confusion was gone, and she was ten years younger than she had been the day before. She was still curvy, still heavy, but she was radiant. She was as vibrant as he had been bewitched to see her as.

“Of course, everything must be done in threes, and you must believe in magic for the spell to be complete. I see in your eyes that you see the truth. I see in your eyes that your doubts are fading. I see in your eyes that you…”

She took off her bra, then took his head in her hands and gently pressed her fingers to his temples and to his face, “Feel me penetrating you, taking hold of you, and molding you like the lump of clay you are, but tell me, do you believe in magic Edmund?”

“I… nuh…” there was a ray of bright cold light that flashed through the warm dark depths of his mind and he felt fear. Deep, life threatening fear was bubbling up inside him, terror at what she had said and described. “No, I don’t believe you.”

“Oh my poor Edmund, so afraid and so confused, but look at my breasts, look at my tits and remember your dreams. Look at them, remember how big they were when you first saw me. They were smaller then weren’t they? Big yes, but not this size. Look at them, look at my breasts, only my breasts, watch them rise and fall now, rise and fall, and fall, and fall Edmund, fall.”

He sat there, literally trapped in her grasp with his body unresponsive and his eyes magnetized by her massive breasts. “So much bigger now, bigger for you because you told me in that first session while you were staring at the wheel… you told me, and I showed them to you. I stood there fondling my naked breasts, hypnotizing you all over again, putting you in a trance within a trance, remember now.”

He saw her there, in her office, telling him to watch her breasts, only her breasts as they rolled in her hands. She told him to feel their softness filling him, telling him they were so big they were spilling into his mind, shaping the clay, that her breasts were what filled the empty vessel, and that instead of stress he could think of them… until he made himself cum to them over and over till he spilled her tits out of his cock.

He didn’t understand that the suggestion was a predetermined ending, it was a ‘when’, not an ‘if’, and that meant he could only make it come true.

He also didn’t know that she had a key to his front door, and that the first night she’d been there with him, tit fucking him into the enchanted delirium he would return to the next time, when she was not actually there.

The first night was not a dream, it was part of her ritual., and the ritual had worked.

“Look at my huge tits Edmund, tell me, are they bigger than they were? Tell me the truth.” her words lanced through his brain, he felt her command him to speak, and he couldn’t lie to her even though something inside him knew he should.

“Yes,” she looked down her nose at him and waited. He knew he had to say more and when he realized it, he couldn’t stop himself, “Yes, they’re bigger.”

“And,” he felt her fingers pushing deeper into his mind, “don’t I look younger and more beautiful?”

“Yes,” he felt the pressure from her fingertips pushing a button in his brain this time, “you look younger and more beautiful… you’re… you’re the most beautiful, sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Plastic surgery and makeup don’t do what I’ve done to change myself, but magic can, and magic does. And Edmund, you agreed that these things happened, so tell me…”

She pulled his head back to her breasts and cradled him there. His body fell into her arms like it was… made of warm wet clay, and he felt like he belonged where he was, “…do you believe in magic?”

“No.”

She laughed and stroked his head, “But you believe in hypnosis, and you think I’ve hypnotized you into seeing things differently don’t you?”

“Yes,” she slid a nipple back into his mouth after he answered.

“So you believe that hypnosis can do these things to your mind, and you don’t need to answer, just suck on my tit and listen to the sound of my voice now. Listen to my hypnotic words and just listen, listen and sink deeper into me.”

Constance’s hand was back between his legs, “Hypnosis can change your mind in many ways, and if you think my hypnosis can make your perception of my tits change, if you think my hypnosis can make you see me as younger, if my hypnosis can do all that…”

She stopped stroking and slid down between his legs to wrap his cock in between her massive tits, “Couldn’t I hypnotize you into believing in magic?”

Edmund moaned, he felt an orgasm building up from deep in his soul, “Yes.”

“And if I could tell you to believe in magic, if you were deeply hypnotized like you are now, wouldn’t you just say that you did, and wouldn’t that mean you did?”

He was close, he was so close, and he was staring at her tits making his cock disappear in their soft, warm mass of creamy white flesh, and occasionally looking into her black star flecked eyes.

“Yes.” It was a long, pleading, hungry yes.

“So why don’t you follow the logic, and tell me, since you’re hypnotized. Stop letting your assumptions get in the way and tell me what’s the simplest explanation for the last few days of your life?”

After she finished speaking she tilted her head forward and her lips closed around his cock as he said “Magic,” and came into darkness.

Edmund woke up in his own bed with only the memory of having a pleasant dinner with his neighbor turned hypnotist, and a deep longing to be close to her. He took a shower, and looked in the mirror, staring at a plain, familiar yet forgettable face, and wondered who he was. 

It was a deep, existential question, not one of physical identity, but a spiritual one. He didn’t even feel a trace of the tension and anxiety that had defined his life for so long, all because of Mrs. Potter and the time he spent on her wheel

She’d remade him, molded him into something better, someone more durable, and given him the tools he needed to be better, but who was the better, happier, healthier him? As he looked at the blank, forgettable face in the mirror, he started to forget who he’d been before her.

Edmund felt his life before Constance start to crumble into the mess he knew it was, and he let it go. He let himself think of the future, of what he wanted, and knew that he needed her. 

He…

Needed…

Her…

His day had come and gone in a blink. It felt like nothing had happened, that he’d been looking in the mirror the entire time, but he had gone to work and come home. Now he was about to walk out his front door to go visit Constance and tell her how he felt.

She smiled and wordlessly let him inside.

She was gorgeous, and so vibrant. He couldn’t understand how someone his age could have so much wisdom, and he couldn’t understand how a beautiful woman like her, a sexy goddess like her could be single. He…

…stared at her huge tits spilling out of her dark purple sleeveless dress.

“I love you.”

He couldn’t believe he said those words to her tits, but he couldn’t look away from them. He said those words before she even said hello.

“Good boy, come inside and get on your knees.”

The sound of her voice shot through his forehead and forced him to look deep into her black eyes, eyes that sparkled with flickering explosions of starlight, and unable to understand what he was seeing, or why, he knelt down on the floor in the middle of her living room.

“Good boy,” she held her hand out to him, “you forgot something here last night.”

She held out a plain gold men’s wedding band, “Put it on.”

He did, and as it slid down his ring finger on his left hand he felt something pulled out of his chest. He let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and felt something else float out of his mouth as she bent down to kiss him.

The kiss was long and sweet, and it was soft. She stroked his face as he knelt there, and felt his life draining from him. He felt his memories disappear, and he felt the world around him changing. 

Then she was naked, on top of him, her heavy tits bouncing as she swallowed up his cock, her pussy compelling him spill more of himself deeper into her. It was just like the dreams, but more so. He felt her flesh, and she was more real than he was, more solid, and with every wave of pleasure, and every orgasm, he felt her taking him from himself.

Her spell kept him hard did inside of her, and the longer she fucked him, the more her touch started to feel like a memory. Like a moment from the past, and as she touched him, he felt pieces of what he used to be, lost now, gone forever, turned into her beauty, into her sexuality, and the chain that he felt around his ring finger and his neck. 

He knew that all his connections to the outside world were being drained away as he kept cumming into her. The kiss of her pussy changed the truth, and he knew he’d always been her husband. He knew he’d always belonged to her. He knew he was nothing without her, just a vessel to deliver his soul to her.

Epilogue, Some Years Later… 

The office holiday party was tremendously boring, and Chis felt like an outsider in the crowd. Everyone was at least ten years older than him, or acted like they were, and he was too uncomfortable to really get drunk with these people. It was…

“I hate these things,” she was beautiful even though she was on the heavy side of curvy, and the wrong side of 40.

There was something about her, some energy, some charisma that made him look past her crow’s feat, or the gray in her long brown hair. It might have been the sparkle in her deep brown, so dark they were almost black eyes, but Chris wasn’t sure about that.

All he was really sure of was that she had great tits.

They were big, and she must have been wearing a great bra, because she looked perfect in her deep necked, long sleeved blue dress. 

He just stared at her tits for another second before finally looking into her eyes as she held out her hand, “Hello, I’m Constance, Constance Potter, you must be Chris, my husband Dale has told me all about you.”

Dale? How the fuck had boring Dale managed to marry this… goddess?

Chris was speechless, “I know we’re an odd match, but we just clicked. We were neighbors and we didn’t really know each other until I offered to hypnotize him and help him with his stress, and we just… well these was just magic between us.”

She was still holding his hand, and took a step closer to him, close enough to press her breasts against his chest and whisper in his ear, “Do you believe in magic Chris?”

“Sure,” this was tremendously inappropriate, but he knew he was a hot dude, and she had to be tired of getting fucked by Dale’s tired old dick. 

“Why don’t we find somewhere quiet we can talk a little more, and if you want to, I can hypnotize you too. I think you’ll love it.”

She led him… she led him, not the other way around, into her husband’s office and locked the door with a smirk, “I don’t want us to be interrupted. Now Chris, just look deep into my eyes and feel the magic of hypnosis starting to wash over you now.”

Her eyes were deep, and dark, and sparkled with the dim light of the nearly dark office. Chris wasn’t really surprised she was a hypnotist, he couldn’t say why, there was just something about her, something more than her massive tits, that made her entrancing.

“Mrs. Potter, what about…”

She’d gotten close to him again, close enough to touch his face, “Don’t worry about him, just look deep into my eyes now Chris, just look deep into my eyes and let everything else fade away, and…”

She brushed her fingers across his lips, “Call me Constance, and if you don’t want to look into my eyes…” she put her hands behind her back and unzipped her dress, “just look at my tits.”

He stared at them, they were a good deal more than a handful each, but not huge, not back problems big, but still big and beautiful, and Chris lost track of what she was actually saying as she took off her elegant black bra.

He stood there, hearing her words, feeling them flowing in one ear and out the other, watching her hands cup and caress her tits. Slowly he felt himself falling down to his knees, his eyes wanting to close, his body feeling too heavy for itself.

Slowly, as he stared up at her, he adjusted himself and laid down on the floor of her husband’s office. He undid his pants, not thinking, just obeying, and his cock stood upright, waiting for her.

Chris didn’t remember what happened next. He didn’t remember the feeling of her wet pussy consuming him, or the words that filled his empty mind, and empty balls after he gushed inside her. But on Monday, after he called in sick for work, he called Mrs. Potter and begged to come over to have her properly hypnotize him.

And that afternoon, as he sat in the chair in her office and watched her black and white spiral swirl, watching her wheel spin, he thought maybe it was just his imagination, but maybe her tits had gotten a little bigger…

And then he stopped thinking at all…