The Russian's Doll

"Psilocybin seems to offer some people a route to an alternate view of reality, in which they shed the limitations of their individual consciousness and embrace a sense of interconnectedness and universality. These trips aren't temporary, but have transformative psychological effects. Even if we don't all end up on mushrooms, the studies offer insights on how we might minimize suffering and interpersonal strife and gain a sense of peace." ~ Brain Prank

The house was empty, making it a perfect time to sunbathe in the nude. Jade lay, lightly napping, with the debate of an invitation on her mind.

Attending an event or staying home, having no artist in the electronica genre, could be an introduction to new clientele. Jade was pivoting from promoting the rock bands of her high school to more dedicated artists in the greater Chicago area.

And Dmitri might be there. A tall Russian compatriot, Dmitri, was a connoisseur of psychedelic delights and stayed within reach of such events. Moreover, their mutual friend, Kyle, had requested her attendance.

Jade decided to hand the decision off to her intuition, confident the right path would reveal itself. The chaise lounge upon which she lay sat before a picture window that let in ample sunshine on a summer's day, and she'd been luxuriating in its brilliance before nodding off.

Emerald daggers pierced her reverie. A prickling sensation like wind through an open window. Jade felt detached from her body, still and supine on the couch. The notion of him shaking his head and sending his dirty blond dreads to bounce before slightly narrowed eyes projected against her eyelids, the power of his gaze sent shivers down her spine, and the rush of a pounding pulse below added to that ever-quickening rhythm. Jade shifted in her slumber, one hand dipping below the blanket's edge and settling between her thighs.

Smoky scenes swirled to form what the psychic connection suggested. Then, casting the consequences of a night not yet planned, Dmitri painted pictures as potentialities to give Jade a clue about what was possible if she wanted to play.

Recently, Dmitri procured a surplus of psilocybin mushrooms. It was summer, music festival season, and Ravinia was celebrating its Centennial, which meant he knew he'd have more than enough customers. Dmitri had calculated what his nights of experimentation would require and contacted associates to sell what was needed to keep a stash for free. He had previously found these particular psychedelics made it quite easy for him to attain an astral travel form.

At first, Dmitri dabbled by moving about his room, then to the kitchen to see what his mother was making for dinner, to his neighbors, especially while the trophy wife on Charleston Street was in the shower. Then, with a thought, he learned he could find himself in many places as his whim directed. At last, during a principally thoughtless moment, or rather, in a moment that contained no inherent thought of his own, Dmitri found himself at a friend's home as they thought of needing to give him a call.

"This is new," Dmitri had thought and found himself back in his body, in his room.

"Gav-no," Dmitri swore his frustration as he realized that trip had been his last. He then decided to research while waiting for the next batch.

Dmitri was straight out of the motherland, and there's something about the power of a Russian mind, not unlike a wolf in the night; he found 'the hunt' intoxicating. But, being a well-built, handsome man in his twenties with a thick accent and a bag full of drugs and cash, he had trouble finding the type of girl that required an artful pursuit. That is until he met Jade.

Now he was consumed with following the gossamer thread of intention focused in her direction. The learning curve was brutal, being present to hear what folks said behind his back or catching the long-distance whispers from family back home. Finally, he was ready to orchestrate an encounter. Through this experiment and with Kyle's help, he knew she would be thinking of him. The timing made it easier to detect the shimmer of Jade's illusive energy, and Dmitri followed it down intangible corridors to find himself gazing down at her, naked and napping.

He appreciated her form as he waited for the telltale sign of slumber deep enough for him to intervene. Delicately disrupting her dream state, cajoling her consciousness to submit to his dominance and taking over the scenes behind her eyes.

Jade saw herself seated on the bench-like backseat of Kyle's van. It led her to believe this meant she should say yes to the evening's festivities. However, Jade was still unsure if the experience had anything to do with the Russian filling her fantasies or if her imagination was just that good. Relaxing into the moment, she decided not to overthink it and allow the scenes to shift effortlessly through her mind.

An education into energetic orgasms, where one taps into the potent stream of life force and learns to breathe, move and flow with the vitality inherent in carnality, without a partner, had dominated ample time once Jade and her most recent companion had split in the Springtime. Still, it was distracting to wonder if her astral travel companion was real.

"You should wear a skirt." Then, in a thick Russian accent, the instruction echoed in waves to confirm she'd caught on before continuing.

"So I can touch you..." Dmitri lifted the specter of her skirt and pushed away the imagined cotton barrier before sinking a long, slender digit deep inside and daring her not to react. Deadpan, his face appeared expressionless though it was from intense concentration. He paused there for what seemed like forever. Hoping not to lose his mesmeric control of the scene, but the mushrooms were doing their thing.

Sadistic delight flashed, perceptible as a blinking curl of his lip. It was coming across as more of a feeling than a visual sense as Jade edged close to climax; though he had hardly begun, the moment melted into a neon-lit bathroom inside the small venue that would be the night's destination.

"I want to taste you." His telepathic command led Jade into the men's lavatory, where a suffocating sensation overtook her as he impressed the sense of being held against the door. Looking up into the piercing hues of hazel and gray as he locked the door. He knelt, hovering just below her navel and offering a short respite from his focus. Jade cooperated completely with the experiment, making it much easier to control. Dmitri felt himself relax in the room back home, taking a deep breath before delving in again.

Jade hadn't breathed since they entered the room, and back in tangible reality, she took a deep breath mirroring Dmitri's own. She vaguely remembered lying alone on the couch, thighs pressed against her fingertips, faintly feeling the radiating heat, throbbing and deep, but she did not want to break the spell of his eyes.

The door was rough with old flyers; they scraped against Jade's back, and she shifted uncomfortably, but Dmitri's emerald daggers pinned her subconscious back in place. Pulling her deeper into the fantasy as his hands ran up the length of her thigh, gripping before slipping beneath her skirt. His breath and his bite were tantalizing and torturous. Dmitri made a note to look for bruises later.

"Maybe, I like to fuck you." The last echoes as he disentangled his mind from her own, allowing those final fleeting images to filter through Jade's erotic imaginings, and he liked what he saw.

"Just wear a skirt tonight."