Exploiting Chemicals

He walks out of the shower, patting himself dry. I stand naked looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows that face east, knowing he will make his way to me.

He drops the towel and grabs my shoulders. He pulls me purposefully close to him and forces our lips together. I give in and allow him to control me for a brief moment.

“Hope you aren’t afraid of heights,” I say to him just before I dominate him by placing him between me and the window, then push his bare ass pressed up against the cool pane of glass.

“Are you nuts? I don’t trust these window installers.”

“What do you mean? I installed them myself,” I laugh. “Are you afraid?” I ask him with a soft tone.

His Sympathetic Nervous System has been activated. I can feel his increased heart rate on my chest. He is breathing heavily and he has begun to perspire, only minutes after a shower.  I’m good.

He is fully aroused. I have identified him as risk-averse. Now with his bare ass pressed up against the window, his adrenaline is going.  The fight-or-flight mechanism has raised its alarm. I’ve got him right where I want him.

I instruct him to place his right foot on the chair, providing me with easy access to his ass. I spit on my fingertips and place my right hand on the base of his cock and begin to stroke him while gently caressing his ass with my left hand. I look up at him attentively with my piercing eyes and slowly move my mouth onto this cock. He moans with ecstasy.

His ass spreads for me, allowing me access to caress his prostate while I stimulate his cock. He is excited with within moments lets out a loud moan of pure pleasure as he comes in my mouth.

I look up at him with my innocent eyes as I swallow all of his come.

He is chemically dependent on me. I’m his drug.

I want him to regain that high, leading to a whirlwind of addictive behaviour.

I have no heart.

I’m a narcissistic pervert. I collect cocks like objects, then display them on a metaphorical mantel in my mind…a collection of trophies that I like to show off to myself.

I psycho-fuck the brains of the cocks that I collect. It’s my drug…my high. Why? Because I can. Because it’s foreplay; and I’m addicted to foreplay. I am a sensation seeker, after-all.

The next question is ‘how?’ How do I exploit chemicals in men? How do I get their hearts racing, their palms sweating, a change in their physiological state? How do I make them chemically dependent on me? Losing sleep, distracted at work, distracted in their daily lives. It’s simple…I control the environment to make this all happen to him. I love being in control.

I offer a short glimpse of euphoria…then ‘poof’, I withdraw immediately after the high. When I vanish, an incapacitating crash follows. They come down from that high…what a shame. Once again, they become eager, craving another euphoric rush of chemicals that flood their brains the way blood engorges their cocks. My cocks. They become addicted. I am the drug. They’re hooked. Smoke me, shoot me, anyway you want me. I’m their pusher. Roll up a hundred-dollar bill and literally snort that cocaine off my ass. I will arch my lower back to make it more appealing for you.

I’m the heroin. One hit, at just the right time, can get them hooked for life.

I have conditioned him like all the rest. B.F. Skinner taught pigeons to play ping-pong and rats to pull levers. Me? I have trained men’s cocks to anticipate my warm mouth and pussy. Upon my arrival they are erect. I have taught them what to expect, or more accurately, what their throbbing cocks can expect.

I create a situation for them to release oxytocin, phenethylamine and dopamine which function similar to amphetamine, making them alert, excited and wanting to fuck. I provide men with an experience of excitement. I’m in sales, giving the feeling of eager wants and desires. I give them a thrill…translating to an addiction. What is the thrill? The anticipation of the chemical release of course.

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