FocusTunes Ch. 03

She was mine now.

I pulsed once, feeling the depth and the resistance of the new angle. This was good; I could fuck her like this. I checked her expression as I started pumping briskly, her knowing grin cracking quickly under the pressure of her pleasure. I smiled wickedly. I was fucking her now.

She pulled her knees up towards her shoulders, her toes hanging up over mine. I increased my pace, the volume rising now with my grunts and her moans, the soft slapping of my balls against her ass. I watched her tits undulate freely, battling for room on her chest with every stroke. I grabbed one roughly, holding my weight against her chest -- she only kept moaning, pleased by my grip.

"Fucking look at me," I insisted through gritted teeth, positive the new intensity would make me cum soon. Her eyes flared open, alight with pleasure.

"God you're gonna...make me cum again." She spoke through gasping breaths, her hand now clenched over mine on her chest, her fingernails digging into my skin. "Fucking make me...go again...Ben, make me come...fucking do it..."

"Tell me how you want it," I said, equally as dedicated to her experience as I was taunting her with my power.

"Fucking harder." Her eyes flared again. "Fuck it out of me."

Well.

I acquiesced, railing into her at full speed now, all pretenses of a tender loving forgotten. She was so...small. Just folded in half, held under me with one arm, the only big thing about her captured in my grasp. I felt the grip of her pussy change and heard the pitch of her voice rise as she fell off the cliff toward her orgasm; her eyes started to close in bliss.

"Don't stop looking at me!" I growled, placing my hand under her head now and jerking it forward to meet my eyes. I could see the fireworks behind her eyes as she tore them open, reaching behind me now to dig her fingers into the significantly less remarkable flesh of my ass, desperate for any leverage to keep me in her deeper and longer.

"Fucking...Ben...I want...fuck fuck fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme fuuuuuuuUUUCK!"

She watched me as I made her cum, her eyelids fluttering in her orgasm but never sealing shut. Joy ricocheted from the quivers in her thighs to the expressions on her face. It was a better orgasm than the first, longer and more intense -- the entire time, I kept a slow stroke inside of her, determined not to overwhelm her despite my darker instincts.

As she settled, I resumed my stronger pace, my balls tight as they petitioned for their turn. Every deep stroke drew a moan out of her, and as she felt me teasing her with sudden long thrusts, she giggled, releasing her divots on my ass.

"You're a good fuck, you know that?"

Pride blossomed up in my chest. I remembered to play it cool -- as if how I played it affected my chances of a second fuck? I don't know. It just felt right for my character.

"I do. It's you I've been trying to convince."

Mmmh, I'm sold," she laughed again, moaning still as I fucked her slow. "I could keep you there for hours."

"I'd sign up for that."

"Would you? I thought you were gonna cum pretty soon, but I guess I already tired you out earlier." She smiled. "Or maybe I'm not as good of a fuck as I think."

"Oh no." I shook my head. "You're exactly as good of a fuck as you think."

"And how good is that?"

"A fucking dream."

"Mmh, a dream?" She repeated lightly. "What did you dream about, Ben?"

"What did I dream about?"

"When you dreamed of fucking me..." She pulled her legs from her shoulder, her hips rotating up so that she could tuck her elbow inside each knee -- she was truly folded now, her pussy bare and exposed. I could look down and see her wet grip on my dick every time it slid through her snatch. "...what was in that dream?"

"...this." I said, uncertain.

"No, no," she smiled at me. "What did you dream of? What did you see, what did you do to me, what did I say to you? What was your fantasy, baby?"

I floundered. A thousand answers went through my head, and each one felt dirtier and more shameful than the last. They were all within reach, and that sudden realness enticed me and scared me. But Miranda had no idea just how achievable they were, so her encouraging of my fantasies was just to give me a taste, to give me a jolt. She was dipping my toe in the water, unaware that I had already dived into the pool and was swimming with the sharks.

"I dreamed of this." I told her decisively now. "I dreamed of pleasing you, of making your fantasies come true. I dreamed of being connected with you and being special to you." And that was true. Her eyes simpered with adoration -- dare I say, with love. It may have read like a bar a fuckboy says to a girl he's trying to lead on, but I meant it -- and she knew that. She nodded in assent.

"Fuck me, Ben."

I picked up my pace. The new angle dragged my cock through her pussy at multiple tight angles, immediately ramping me back up to the danger zone.

"Fuck me, Ben. Be with me."

I was on fingers and toes, dropping my full body weight into her with every stroke, her pussy desperately squeezing me, desperate to prevent my departure.

"Fuck my tight little pussy, Ben. Fuck my throat and my pussy and fuck me, Ben."

The pressure welled up inside of me. I opened my eyes to see a slavish gaze, bouncing tits cupped softly.

"Cum for me, Ben. Cum wherever you want -- in me, on me, just cum for me please. Cum for me like I came for you, fucking use me until you cum..."

The sincerity of that final instruction pushed me over the edge. Even if I had wanted to cum somewhere else, I wouldn't have had the speed or mental fortitude to do so. I buried myself to the hilt in her pussy, still wet and tight and warm, and shot my cum deep into her belly. I gasped at the sensation, unparalleled and electrifying, as she moaned with me, a throaty "fuuuuck" escaping one of our lips as we felt that crescendo finally land on the final note. I never found out which one of us it was.

-----

I rolled onto my back.

I shut my eyes.

She panted beside me.

She stood.

I didn't know where she was going.

I wasn't worried.

She came back; she had a blanket.

She curled up on top of me, cocooned.

I heaved another sigh.

I was parched.

She adjusted her spot, tucking her head just below mine.

I wasn't getting up.

-----

I don't think I slept, really. My head was pounding with the exertion, my shoulders sore from the angle, my heart still shoving blood through my body in the event I wanted to go yet another round. I just needed to hibernate quickly, so that's what I did, drawing circles on Miranda's right buttcheek to acknowledge the passage of time.

A Delta Force couldn't have moved me off my spot, so Miranda was the one to break the spell.

"God." She leaned back to look at my face, her eyes still dancing with ricochets of light from the earlier fireworks. "That was good sex."

"That was good sex."

"Why did we wait for so long to do that? I've wanted this for ages." She half-whined, rolling to her back and stretching her legs. "I can't believe I was so...I don't know, worried about acting on it? I'm usually not like that."

"Must be because you like me so much," I teased, leaning over to kiss her head. She smiled at that, but awkwardly.

"Must be," she agreed quietly.

"What?" I was concerned. She sat up.

"I dunno. I'm happy we finally got to fuck and I think...well, we make a pretty good team." She grinned at me. "But I'm still...Ben, you know I'm not trying to date you, right? Like...that's always been the case."

I was disappointed/angry/stunned at first -- why wouldn't I be? She couldn't just...and then I remembered. She wanted to fuck me because I told her she did; she wanted to suck my cock because I told her she did; I never told her that she wanted to date me, so she didn't.

"I know." I tried to sound casual, but my voice still seemed wounded. "I'm mostly just looking to fuck, too." She openly laughed at that.

"Sure you are." She winked, and now I was definitely pissed. "Now I've gotta go shower again, because Abby and Bianca will not leave me alone if I smell like sex. Are you...gonna hang around?"

It wasn't a real question; she clearly wanted to be rid of me, as explaining to her friends why we had been hanging out unsupervised was likely a nightmare situation for her. Again, I was hurt, but reminded myself that I had just magically convinced Miranda Plover to fuck me, and decided I was still largely the victor in this situation.

"Yeah, I think I'll meet Abby and Bianca with my dick out." She looked up in alarm at first, but snorted when she saw my face. "Nah, I'll head out. I'm not really doing anything this weekend though, so if you get another unquenchable oral urge, you know who to--"

"You fucking prick," she laughed, taking a swing for my arm and losing the blanket over her tit in the process. "Nothing cockier than a boy who finally got his dick wet."

"Says the girl who tried to make me share my fantasies of her! While I was fucking her!"

"I knew you had more than just fucking 'connecting with me'!"

"Hey -- I fucking meant that!"

"C'mon, time to spill." She teased me with the smile of her eyes, the nakedness of her shoulder. "I think I can guess some of them anyway given how you made me suck you off earlier...mmh, I think you'd like fucking me on my hands and knees...I think you'd like pulling my hair...grabbing my throat..."

My tired dick stirred.

"Hmm?" She licked her lips enticingly. I smirked, remembering Thursday Ben, that innocent fucking neophyte.

"Go fucking shower."

She stood, gathering the blanket around her regally. I glanced at her exposed legs as she stood.

"Fucking look at me," she said gruffly, imitating my command from before. It got a laugh out of me, and a laugh out of her.

She gathered her clothes and her long-forgotten phone and ascended to the main floor, leaving me buck naked in the silence of the basement. I wagged my head in disbelief before getting dressed and working my way over to the blender, resuming the job I'd never completed. I was pretty fucking hungry.

As the blender ran, my mind started turning again. Had I closed out of the FocusTunes app, or would she see it when she opened her phone? Was she going to continue wanting to fuck me, as she had with sucking my cock? And what would happen if that need grew?

There was too much turning over in my brain to keep track of all the moving pieces -- especially at these high stakes. I poured myself some smoothie and hunted through the basement until I found a scratch pad of paper and a pen. Thought maps always helped.

I made three columns: Facts, Questions, and Theories. I'd been decompressing life's problems into these three categories for a few years now -- I had a crumbled yellow sheet about my mom somewhere in my desk drawers, and another fresher one on Mandalorian/Clone Wars/Rebels continuity and story arcs in my backpack.

Here's how the FocusTunes problem hashed out.

Facts

● Miranda wants to suck my cock

○ She thinks this is getting worse

● ...and beg for my cum

○ She doesn't know why

○ This is out of character for her and worries her

● ...and fuck me

○ She thinks she's always wanted to (my programming)

● She might trust me and will do whatever what I say

○ Not sure if programming got in in time.

● FocusTunes allows me to give Miranda wants/commands without her knowledge

○ Hippocampus Hop

● She can act while listening to the music

○ "Sentry Mode"

■ Read book titles & studied calc -- does she remember that?

○ Answered her phone when I called her in library

● The music needs to stop for her to get commands from me

○ Stays in trance-y mode after music finishes

○ Why does it need to stop?

Questions

● Why can't I give her commands during the music?

● Does she remember things she studied during FT if she doesn't remember her commands from me? (Calc, bookshelf)

● Does FT have to go through headphones?

● Do other people have FocusTunes downloaded/has this happened to someone else?

○ How would I find that out?

● Will she keep following her commands indefinitely or will they expire?

● Does the duration of FT listening matter to how long she stays in the trance? Or how long she holds commands?

● Can I max out how many commands she can carry at once?

● Will her wants (suck cock, fuck me) continue to get more intense?

○ 2nd blowjob more intense than 1st, 3rd more intense than 2nd, etc...

Theories

● FocusTunes helps the brain retain information. After the music stops, there's still a window for the brain to retain info. Information I gave Miranda's brain during the "open window" is accepted by her brain as fact (i.e. as something she studied/learned).

○ Inception? Adding an idea to a brain

■ Does the brain recognize/fight the foreign idea (Inception)?

■ How does the brain explain incongruities?

● Miranda begs for my cum but doesn't know why, so when she does it it bothers her. But she wants to suck my cock and fuck me, so doing it doesn't bother her.

○ I didn't tell her she wanted to beg for my cum. She just heard "Beg for my cum" so that's what she does

■ It's like programming. It's teaching the brain a new fact that it accepts automatically -- no judgment. Told Miranda "You've always wanted to fuck me," and she immediately believes she's always wanted to fuck me.

● Limits?!

○ Can I change a person's identity?

○ Can I make them forget things they've known forever?

I leaned back from my hunched scrawling at those final questions. Even I didn't like where I was going with this.

I had solved at least one important riddle, which was good. When I played the music for Miranda, I primed her brain to retain facts; then I stopped the music, but still gave her facts to retain, which she did. That's how she held on to what I said with such devotion -- she views it as fact. And if I wasn't specific in my phrasing -- as I hadn't been when I had butt-dialed her in the bathroom -- it could have unintended consequences. I'd have to fix the beg-for-cum thing -- new Question: can I overwrite previous commands? -- before each subsequent pleading freaked her out further and further.

But as I looked at my pad, the full weight of what I had uncovered dawned on me. It was one thing to make someone do anything; it was another to make them believe anything. I could put conviction behind her actions. I wouldn't be fucking a doll; I'd be fucking Miranda in her fullness, her vitality, her long-withheld beauty and energy -- as I had today. She wouldn't just be fulfilling my fantasy; she'd be a Build-A-Bear for any and all fantasies I had, known and unknown, acceptable or absurd. I could make her...anything.

Wheew.

It was only later, as I sat at a red light a few miles from home, that I pulled the folded piece of paper out of my front pocket and wrote down the additional Question that rattled around the deep corners of my mind. I had tried to ignore it for the last half-hour; it would not rest, would not go silent. I was a fucking scientiest, okay -- I needed to ask shit and answer shit.

I stared at it when I got home, slumped on my bed. It stood out in a different ink, the shaky print etched over the bumps on the rounded surface of my steering wheel.

Will this work on other people too?