This bed is on fire with passionate love/The neighbors complain ‘bout the noises above/ But she only cums when she’s on top

She practically drags me from the club. When we hit the street she clings to me possessively while she fires up the Uber app. Before she can put in the request I trigger her again, and rapidly suggest that tonight is a night for impulsive and poorly thought out decisions, that she thought Valerie’s second tattoo looked really good, and that she wants to get one herself. Right now. There’s a late night tattoo parlor across the street, and it’s like it’s fate speaking directly to her.

The artist, a flamingly gay large hairy man who looks like he’d be more at home on a Harley, manages a perfect mirror image of Melanie’s bluebird, and while he gives her care and feeding instructions, I call for a ride.

She can’t keep her hands off of me, and it’s only with great difficulty that I dissuade her from giving me a handy in the back seat of the ‘97 LeBaron that our Uber driver shows up in. In the elevator we make out and she orgasms repeatedly, so it’s with shaky legs and hands that she fumbles with the key to the apartment. As we spill through the door she grabs me by the collar and I allow her to drag me to the bedroom.

I slide into her while speaking directly to her subconscious mind. “You are always horny and wet.”

Naked, eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling while I fuck her. This is an easy one to slip by her higher reasoning because it’s been basically the gospel truth for the last few days. “I am always horny and wet.”

“You are always horny and wet and you want to touch yourself all the time. “

“I am always horny and wet and I want to touch myself all the time.” More easy acceptance, since again the last few days have proven this.

“You can’t cum without someone else.”

“I can’t cum without someone else.” Again an easy truth between the last few days and the series of explosive orgasms tonight.

“You need someone else to cum.”

“I need someone else to cum.” I saw into her, balls deep in both her cunt and brain.

“Only someone superior to you can make you cum.”

“Someone superior to me?”

“Someone stronger and more powerful.”

“Stronger… more powerful.”

“I made you cum.”

“You made me cum.”

“That means I am stronger and more powerful.” As if to reinforce this thought I up the ante on my thrusts. She again easily accepts this, possibly recalling her physical domination at my hands mere days ago.

“You are stronger and more powerful.”

“No one has ever made you cum the way I did.” I’m taking a risk here, but only a small one.

“No one has ever made me cum the way you did.”

“I am the most powerful and strong man you have ever met.”

“You are the most powerful and strong man I have ever met.”

“I am superior to you.”

“You are superior to me.”

“Very good, Melanie. You may cum.” Her body rocks, bucking against me.

After she cools down I start in again. “Because I am your superior you must obey me.”

“I must obey you.”

“Very good. Now, we’re going to play a fun little game…”

She lays on the bed, blank, empty, open. All her memories are in a neat little box labeled ‘Melanie’ that only she can see. I pull out my phone and call Valerie.

“Come over right away. We’re ready for you.”