Her Bliss: Quint's Control

Late at night, I wrap blankets around myself. Sinking into the quiet of my house, I close my eyes and try to tell myself that I just want to rest. That I want to slip away to sleep. That's what you're supposed to do, right? When the day is done, you get into bed and you're supposed to try to sleep. Maybe you wind down by scrolling through Pinterest and pinning pictures of cute shoes. But often, more often than I might like to admit, something happens to me. A funny little hitch catches in my stomach. An insistent little urge starts to poke and prod at my brain.

Ah, forget the pretext. I'm horny! That's what I'm getting at. It's late, I'm alone, I'm single, hormones are pumping through my veins, I get horny. Not so out of the ordinary, right?

Well, maybe. Except sometimes, I go a little crazy over it. Sometimes my imagination runs totally wild. Fantasies galavant up and down my mind. It's all I can do to grab a vibrator and try to hold on. I get shocked at the lusty girl within me. She's into some stuff that I never would've imagined even just a few years ago. I mean, she's not just a total hussy, she's wild. The thing that sets my teeth on edge the most? I know that I like her. I like giving into the lusty girl that I know is inside me. In fact, I crave it.

She totally takes advantage of me, too. Some people have told me that I have a great imagination. Whether that's true or not, I certainly have the capacity to imagine some very vivid fantasies. And that ability has been commandeered by my wanton desires. The heat will rise in me, I'll get flushed, start running my hands over myself, and my traitorous little mind will draw me into it. Her Bliss.

It's such a dumb name, but once it popped into my head I couldn't shake it. Her Bliss is the corner of my mind which I sometimes find myself in while I pleasure myself. It's essentially it's own dimension, outside of normal reality. Picture a wonderfully pleasant place. A wide expanse of endless white sky meets a perfectly level ground. The entire ground is usually made up of a continuous mosaic, depicting everything from animals to mountains to entwined lovers. A shallow and cool pool of water covers the mosaic. Soothing arias sound from a distance, casting a soft pall upon all. The main gimmick of Her Bliss is that I'm in a sort of deal with the realm. I will always be pleased to be there. I'll never be scared or hurt in Her Bliss... unless I want to be. You see, the reason that I'm always happy in Her Bliss is because it's directly hooked into my mind. Every passing thought, every fantasy that I try to tamp down on, is caught and played out by Her Bliss.

I can have no secrets from the place. In return, the realm exists to bring me pleasure, even if I'm surprised by what my subconscious mind conjures up when I'm in the throes of passion. Her Bliss is only limited by my imagination, and so it can constantly change and shift. Objects and people can appear, grow, shrink, transform, or disappear as my fantasies need. Bodies shift and change with my erotic whims. My own body in Her Bliss is a constant focus, and can shift along with everything else. Sometimes I'm just me, Carie, twenty something trans girl, with my curly brown hair, modest little breasts, and my girly little dick (no testicles in Her Bliss or reality, yay!). Sometimes I'm allowed to have the vagina and the womb I've always yearned for, and my body curves itself into the beautiful woman I wish I could be. Sometimes I even shed humanity for a time. You get the picture; Her Bliss changes my body and surroundings as necessary for the fantasy.

What's that? You'd like to know about the fantasies that have played out in Her Bliss? So... you're asking me about my fetishes...?

Well God Damn it, of course I'll tell you. Because one of my deep desires is to always have to do what people tell me to.

Yes, it came as a surprise to me to realize how often I would fantasize about being subservient. But can you really blame me? The idea of submitting to a dominant partner... fulfilling their every command, being used for their pleasure, making them happy... God, it makes me squirm. So let's go into Her Bliss, so you can see me being used...

~

I was stretched out upon an old divan, one hand dipping into the shallow water that covers Her Bliss, the other resting over my eyes. The air felt cool and still. I was warm in my fuzzy polka dot pajama pants and pink night shirt. Strangely, I thought that I could hear a songbird in the distance. My mind was wandering aimlessly from thought to thought. Maybe I should watch a movie tonight... or do some more knitting practice... hmmm, would I be able to do both at the same time?

A gentle splishing noise came from behind the divan. I sat up and looked over my shoulder. A tall man was approaching me. He was wearing a blue sweater and khaki pants, but was oddly barefoot. I guess he doesn't want to get his shoes wet...? I thought.

The man stopped just short of my divan and looked at me expectantly. He had a long, straight nose, angular cheekbones, and faintly olive skin. His dark hair was cut short, and as he smiled at me, I could see warmth in his dark brown eyes. Quint, my childhood best friend... and longtime crush.

"Carie," Quint said to me, resting a long fingered hand on the edge of my divan, "what are you doing here?"

"Well, this is my head, so I think I'm entitled to spend some time here now and again," I said. "I'm the one that should be asking you that question."

Quint laughed. "Carie, I've been stuck inside your head since second grade." I turned bright red and squirmed slightly. "What on Earth do you mean?" Quint just smiled. I rose to my feet and stepped around the divan to stand next to him. I had to look up to meet his eyes.

Wait, what? I was always taller than him growing up, and we've been about the same height for years... did he get taller?

"Seriously, Quint, what're you doing here?" I asked him. "Well, I thought we could catch up! Hang out like the old days, talk Star Wars movies, discuss our hometown... you know, talk, like people often do," he teased me.

"Oh, of course, well, that'd be great!" I chirped. "Please, sit down." I gestured to my old divan. Quint stepped around me and sat in the middle of the divan. I blushed deeper, having no choice but to sit directly next to him. I settled to his left and tried to leave a small gap between our thighs.

"So, Carie, how have you been? How's upstate?" He asked me.

"It's fine," I replied, trying to sound casual. "The leaves are changing. The hills are beautiful, lined with trees in ochre and vermillion. You're missing out, Mr. Big City."

He smiled again. "I needed to go with the work, and it turns out that not to on any small towns are hiring surgeons. And who on Earth says vermillion?"

"Well, I thought that it sounded better than boring old red-" I began, but Quint cut me off.

"You know, you've always thrown around two dollar words like they mean something, but you never actually say what you're thinking," Quint told me. "Of course, that's not such a terrible problem, since your thoughts are written all over your face."

I blinked in surprise. "Oh, am I so easy to read?" I shot back.

"When your face is as vermillion as those fall leaves, yeah, you are." He looked me in the eye. "Come on, Carie. Every time we've gotten together since we graduated, you never fail to mention sex at least once. This conversation would have reached that point too within five minutes. It's like you can never get sex off of your mind around me. So why don't you tell me what you're really thinking."

I gaped at him. "Erm... are you... taller?" I asked, stupidly but truthfully.

Quint laughed again. "Of course not. You're shorter." He reached out and pushed me right off the couch. I fell to the ground with a small splash.

"And now you're shorter still!" He chuckled.

I sputtered with indignation and shot him a glare. "I... you.. how dare.."

"If you didn't like that, tell me to leave and I will, right now." Quint wasn't laughing anymore. He fixed me with a firm stare.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him off, but nothing came out. I just looked up at him, sprawled across a mosaic of a stag, trying and failing to tell Quint to get lost.

Quint looked satisfied. "Like I said, you're woefully easy to read. You think I haven't felt that heat coming off of you every time we're in the same room? Come on Carie, I know exactly how much it turned you on to have me push you around like that. And I know that telling you that I can do whatever I want to you and your body... such as making you several inches shorter than me... is going to drive you wild."

Damn that bastard, he was absolutely right. He is driving me wild. So what is his point?

"Quint," I began, but he cut me off again. "Enough, Carie. We both know that I'm right. I know you've been lusting for me for years. So go ahead. Show me that you'll be worth my while." Quint stared at me expectantly.

I didn't reply. Instead, I rose partially off the mosaic, coming to rest on my knees. I reached a trembling hand forwards and grabbed the waistline of Quint's khakis. At his approving nod, I tugged his pants down around his ankles, along with his briefs.

After all these years, I was face to face with Quint's dick. The corners of my mouth tightened. I reached out again and gave it a tentative stroke. In response, Quint settled back into my divan and closed his eyes. I began to slowly run my hand up and down his shaft, enjoying the feeling of holding his manhood. I whimpered with want as I felt my fingers brush over his head, and was excited to hear him groan appreciatively in response.

God help me, I want to taste him. I leaned forward, my hand dropping away as I bowed my head towards his lap. I gave his head a soft kiss, and then warily began to slide my mouth over his shaft.

Quint groaned again, then said, "just get it wet, Carie. Of course, I'm sure a wanton girl like you is all too happy to lick her way around a hard cock."

Of course he was right. I eagerly swept my tongue up and down his dick, wanting to taste him, to savor the feeling of his manhood in my mouth. But to my surprise, he suddenly grabbed my head, halting my bobbing and licking, and pushed me off his dick.

"Quint, what's wrong?" I asked, a horrible sinking feeling settling deep in my gut. Had I disappointed him? I couldn't bear to imagine it. After all these years of fantasies, was I so bad at giving actual blowjobs that I'd let Quint down?

Quint didn't reply immediately. Instead, his other hand reached over my head and grabbed the collar of my pink night shirt, then yanked it over my head. I gasped in pain and pleasure as my hair got pulled along with the shirt, before settling back against my cheek in a curly wave. I managed to blush yet again as I realized that he had a full view of my exposed breasts. I have modest little a-cups, but my nipples are fat, and in that moment they were stiff and wanting.

My shirt was flung away. Quint let go of my head, and then placed both of his hands upon my breasts. He gave each nipple a sharp tweak, and I squealed as a jolt of pleasure shot through me.

"Remember, Carie," He murmured to me. "I control your mind and your body." And with that, he tightened his grip on my boobs. I let out another squeal as the increased pressure sent another pleasurable jolt down to my toes and back. I began to feel a tightness build deep in my chest. The tightness became tighter, stronger, impossible to ignore, almost too much to handle... until it suddenly burst, and to my shock my boobs began to expand.

My modest bust ballooned outward, spilling out of Quint's long fingers. As they expanded they retained a feeling of utter fullness. My boobs continued to grow for a few more moments, then stopped around a respectable c cup. I could do nothing but stare at my new assets.

"What is your body for, Carie?" Quint whispered to me.

"It's for you," I gasped, still unable to tear my eyes away from my wonderful new boobs. "My body is shaped and reshaped to your desires."

"Is that okay?" Quint asked, his low voice heavy with desire. "Do you want your body to please mine?"

I finally ripped my eyes away from my chest and looked at Quint. I knew he could see the truth on my face, but I whispered it to him. "Yes."

Quint's face split into a wide smile. "Good girl," he told me, sending a wave of happy endorphins crashing through my mind.

Somehow, I knew exactly what he wanted. My new chest was for him, not me. I leaned forward and pushed my boobs around his still wet dick. I pushed my hands against the sides of my boobs and cried out at the burst of pleasure they responded with. Quint also leaned forward and grabbed my shoulders with his hands. I shuddered at the feel of his palms on my bare skin. Quint suddenly thrust his hips forward, pushing his dick through the space between my boobs. I watched with wide eyes as his dick shot towards my chin, then rapidly retreated. He repeated his thrusts, pushing his dick up and down through my boobs. I pushed them tighter together, trying to maximize his feeling.

I'm getting titfucked, I thought dazedly. Of course, my own arousal was absolutely boiling. It was all I could do to keep my boobs pushed together; I was desperate to pull him down on to me and have him take me on the mosaic. But I knew that he wanted this, and I would do whatever Quint wanted. I would be a good girl for him. But I couldn't stop my arousal from growing. My poor nipples, hardened into pink eraser points, began to leak milk. The milk dribbled down my chest, some getting onto Quint's dick and providing extra lube.

Quint's thrusts began to get faster and less rhythmic. I could hear him grunting with exertion. I became aware that I was unable to stop a stream of my own breathy moans. Quint looked me dead in the eye as he gave a final mighty push, his dick rising towards my chin as he reached climax. A heavy load of cum shot out, getting all over my face and chest. I gasped in shock as the thick strands of semen began to drip down my cheeks and chest, mixing with the milk still leaking from my tits. I scraped some cum off my cheek with my pinky finger and popped it in my mouth. I greedily lapped at the salty substance, amazed at how enjoyable I found its taste.

Quint sank deep into my divan. He looked utterly spent. I could see drowsiness already taking hold in his face, but he raised his eyes to mind.

"Good girl, Carie, very good... you did exactly what you needed to."

I beamed with pride. "Thank you, so much, I can't... I can't believe how good it feels..." I trembled slightly from the happiness, which mixed together with the intense arousal still burning inside me. God, I still needed some relief! "Um, say, Quint..."

Quint gave me a small, wicked smile. "I think I'm going to be drifting off to sleep," he said, oh so innocently. "I have one request..."

"Anything!" I said eagerly.

"Wait for me," he said, trying and failing to keep the deviousness from his voice. "If you want to be a good girl, don't touch yourself at all until I wake up. Will you do that?"

A wave of frustration ran through me, followed by a wave of reluctant excitement. I would be a good girl. "Yes, of course I will. But, um, could you put my chest back to normal? It's a little distracting, mas-" I cut myself short with a tiny eep!.

Quint raised an eyebrow. "You don't like your new chest?"

"I love it," I said truthfully, "but it's hard to concentrate-"

"I'm drifting off," he interrupted smoothly. "Remember; be a good girl and don't touch yourself." His eyes finally slid shut, and it wasn't long before I heard soft snores coming from him.

"Men," I teased softly. "Okay, Carie, what the hell was that? You almost called your childhood best friend 'master'. And it felt totally right. What is wrong with you?" I asked myself aloud.

Not a thing, my inner lusty girl whispered back. Not a thing.

"Damn her," I muttered to myself. "She's right." I got off my knees and curled up against the side of the divan, careful to keep my hands away from my still aching breasts.

~

Alright, there you are. A fantasy that my dirty little mind cooked up. I honestly hope that it turned you on or pleased you somehow. I'm dead serious when I say that the thought of bringing others sexual pleasure turns me on. If I can't have some cute guy in my life to bend me over, the best I can do is try to bring others some stimulation. Her Bliss is always full of fantasies and scenarios. I think that the best way for me to be a good girl would be for me to share some more, don't you think?