(Drafted in September…)
Michelle’s armpits drive me insane. They smell salty, tangy, meaty, powerful and thoroughly dominant.
Even without chastity, the smell from them is enough to make me want to be near her and to please her. If I’ve been chaste for anything more than about two days, the smell makes me rock hard in an instant and I feel almost light-headed with desire. They just make me want to fuck her, and make sure she is happy and all her needs are met. I guess, biologically, that is their role.
She’s we’ll aware of this. She often wears tops that leave them exposed, and if she asks me to do something for her, she sometimes accentuates the instruction by spreading her arms out to the side, or even putting them up by her head so I can see the stubble. “Get me a drink will you honey?”
Even more powerful is when she directs my nose into her armpit and gives me orders. Sometimes this is when we are around the house and she wants to make sure things get done. She’ll raise her arm, point to the pit and guide my head in there. “Get your nose in there, cutie.”
After a few whiffs she begins instruction. “I want the house tidied today before people come over. I’ll be in my room having a lie down.”
Then she’s off, leaving me with the smell.
Best of all is when she instructs me to smell her when we’re in bed, like during a fuck we had recently. All of a sudden I found my body pinned by her legs and my head locked away in her armpit and then she started telling me the score.
“OK, here’s what you need to understand. You want to serve and obey me all the time. You can never do enough for me. The merest touch from me makes you quiver with delight. You are not allowed to come unless I say so. You…”
“Stop!” I cried out. Nothing makes me want to come faster than being spoken to like this. Within about fifteen seconds I was on the edge of orgasm.
“OK,” she sighed, and stopped grinding her cunt on my cock.
It took me a minute to calm down, then I pleaded with her to tell me more.
“No. That’s all,’ she said. And I think I understand why. Who wants a lover who only lasts fifteen seconds?
Anyway, I think her armpits open up my subconscious and just generally make me feel more receptive to instruction. Not everything she says gets in, but I can feel some of her words rattling around in my mind for weeks afterwards. In particular, the phrase, “you can never do enough for me” is now deeply imbedded in my mind and pops into my head when I first see see her in the evening.
I asked her about the wisdom of this. “You’re sure you want me thinking that? I could get pretty neurotic if I think I’m never enough for you.”
“I’m OK with it so far. If I need to tweak it, I will,” she said.
I guess she could, too.
The really odd thing is, we’ve tried other kinds of hypnosis and none of it has worked as well. She has even made a recording of a script in which she repeatedly instructed me on all the different ways she wanted to be served, lasting about half an hour. I’ve listened to that about fifty times, and I don’t think any of it has sunk in to the same degree as the single lines she has said to me when I have my head in her armpit and I am on the edge of orgasm.
It’s just a very receptive, submissive place to be.