It wasn't that Audra didn't enjoy having her pussy eaten by a mindless lesbian sex slave. She was absolutely reveling in every long, lapping motion of Emily's tongue against her wet cunt, and she knew she was going to cum several times before she finally released her latest plaything from her hypnotic spell. But there was an even greater pleasure she was anticipating the entire time she filmed Emily's blank and dreamy face, framed so perfectly by Audra's soft, pale thighs as she licked and licked. It was what was going to happen to Emily tomorrow when she saw the footage.
Because Emily wasn't going to remember any of this when she left Audra's apartment--not the subtle induction that left her limp and thoughtless on Audra's couch, not the squirming lust she felt every time she drove Audra to new heights of ecstasy, not even the taste of Audra's cunt on her tongue. Her obedient subconscious was going to rationalize away every last reminder of their tryst, eliding it with adorable little gaps in her memory that made her clit pulse every time she gave in to the suggestions and remembered to forget, and she was going to come trotting back the next day eager to spend time with her new friend and neighbor without even the slightest idea whyâŚ.
Until Audra showed her the video, of course. Not after hypnotizing her, not while she was sunken into a deep trance thanks to the reinduction trigger Audra always implanted in her good girls, but simply and straightforwardly pressing play on the clip and saying, "It looks like you enjoyed that quite a bit, didn't you, pretty pet?" And she would get to watch as Emily's pretty hazel eyes went wide with shock and astonishment, and her brow furrowed as her mind strained in a desperate effort to understand how she could have absolutely no memory of the uninhibited lesbian sex she was watching on Audra's phone⌠and very gradually, without the younger woman even realizing it, Emily's hand would go down between her legs to rub herself.
It wasn't even a suggestion, not exactly. Audra had done a little work on Emily's head while she was supine and mindless and obediently lapping away at Audra's cunt, convincing her that eating pussy made her needier than she'd ever been before and the only way to reach climax was to masturbate to lesbian porn. Only of course Emily didn't know that was what she needed, so she went home wet and desperate and spent her whole night fruitlessly jilling off until she went to sleep with half-remembered whispers tugging at her unconscious mind, reinforcing her programming in ways she wasn't allowed to think about. When Emily saw herself turned into amateur girl-on-girl porn, it was going to absolutely wreck her fucking libido and leave her with only one possible outcome to the situation Audra was even now engineering for them.
And she was going to watch every last bit of it, and she was going to mercilessly manipulate Emily into believing she was nothing more than a horny, needy slut who craved dominance and hypnosis and hot lesbian sex. By the time tomorrow was done, Emily would fully convince herself that she craved everything Audra was tricking her into wanting⌠and the rush of power she got from knowing that made today's pleasure feel like nothing more than an appetizer for the feast to come.
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âAwh, whoâs my cute little idiot huh?â Your partner cooed at you. âWhoâs so completely stupid for me, huh? Itâs you!â They cupped your chin with their hand, pulling your gaze to theirs. âAwh, youâre blushing⌠Is it humiliating when I talk to you like that?â
It was⌠But that wasnât a bad thing. âLike youâre not even a person? Like youâre a fucking pet?â Their eyes were boring into yours, as they smiled down at you, maliciously. âGood. You should be humiliated. I can see how turned on it makes you. It isnât normal, freak.â
They let go of your chin, and took a step back, examining you. âOh my god, is that turning you on now? What canât I call you? Pervert.â You averted your eyes, unable to stop the blush, the heat, creeping through your body. âOkay, no, Iâll stop. I wonât be too mean.â
With a chuckle, they came back to you, closer. Their voice softened. âI mean, I know youâd like that, but denial is good for you sometimes.â They placed a hand on both of your cheeks, and again, pulled your gaze to theirs. âHey, come here. Look me in the eyes.â
With that command, you knew what was coming next. Your mind began to grow a little hazy, a little eager to give in to them. âI know, I know, youâre an idiot for me. But you are my idiot. Just a brainwashed, stupid plaything, that I get to toy with, and tease, and talk down to.â
They let go of your face. You didnât look away from their eyes. âBut I have another use for you. Kneel, toy.â Obediently, you lowered yourself before them. Their smile widened. âGood. Blank.â They snapped their fingers. The effect was instantaneous, and powerful.
The trigger hit your submissive brain, sending your thoughts scattering. They laughed. âGood. Time to put you to use.â They said, slipping their trousers, and underwear to the floor. One of their hands moved to the back of your head, pulling you towards their crotch.
* * *
This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just ÂŁ1/month! Or, from ÂŁ5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!
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Your partner was standing over you as you knelt before them, eagerly awaiting their orders. âAwh, babe, you didnât notice, did you? You just thought it was normal.â They said, laughing at you. âHow horny youâve been getting? How eager and willing to listen to me youâve become?â
They cupped your chin with a hand, lifting your head higher. âI know, I know, youâve always prided yourself on being an independent, strong-willed person.â They crouched, getting on your eye level, their hand still on your chin. âItâs why Iâve been doing this.â
That hand slipped down to your neck. Your mind rushed at the thought of what came next, but they didnât squeeze. âBreaking you. Reshaping you. Turning you into my weak, slutty, brainwashed plaything. And the fact that youâve been forgetting every time is just perfection.â
Forgetting? You didnât remember forgetting. But⌠That was hard to think about. Thinking was hard. âOf course youâve been forgetting. You donât need to remember, do you toy? No. You remember what I tell you to remember. You forget what I tell you to forget.â
They finally squeezed. Not hard. But enough to make you moan. âAnd now youâre mine. My plaything. My toy. To the outside world, nothing will look any different. But weâll both know the truth. How much you crave to sink into my control, to submit to my power.â
* * *
This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just ÂŁ1/month! Or, from ÂŁ5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!
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Nothing made sense anymore.
The thought drifted through Fiona's mind as she stared into the tiny compact mirror resting in her palm.
For a moment, she didn't recognize the woman looking back. Crimson lips. Long curled lashes. Wide, shining eyes framed by immaculate makeup. She looked like a doll. Or a woman of dubious profession.
The face wasn't unfamiliar exactly. It was hers. Yet it somehow felt wrong. As though she were looking at a carefully crafted imitation.
Fiona frowned.
The expression lasted less than a second.
A sharp discomfort immediately followed.
Her gaze locked onto her lipstick. The color seemed slightly faded. The realization became unbearable.
Without conscious thought, her hand reached into her purse. The familiar red tube slipped into her fingers. Relief washed over her before she had even uncapped it.
"There we go," she murmured softly. The lipstick glided across her lips. Back and forth.
Perfect.
The discomfort vanished instantly. A pleasant warmth spread through her chest. Fiona smiled. Then giggled.
The sound startled her.
For a brief moment she couldn't remember why. The giggle sounded airy. Not at all like the composed professional she remembered herself being. Or thought she remembered herself being. The distinction suddenly seemed important.
Then it slipped away.
Her eyes returned to the mirror.
Everything looked right again. A small pulse of satisfaction fluttered through her. Fiona blinked slowly.
What had she been thinking about?
Something that had seemed important a moment ago.
She could feel the shape of the thought lingering just beyond reach. The more she yearned for it, the more distant it became.
Her attention shifted to her reflection.
Another touch of lipstick might help. A little more mascara too. The thought felt wonderfully reasonable.
She smiled brightly.
Now she looked exactly the way she was supposed to look.
The comforting certainty settled over her mind.
For several seconds she simply admired her reflection.
Then she giggled once more.
She had remembered that she was meeting someone today. Someone who always smiled when she looked her best. The realization filled her with a warm anticipation. Fiona snapped the compact shut and rose from her chair.
Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor. A small smile tugged at her lips with every step.
She glanced around the empty waiting room.
It seemed like an ordinary office lobby, save for its immaculate condition. The polished floors and white leather furniture were so pristine that she wondered if they had ever been used.
Fiona had arrived a quarter of an hour ago. She hadn't seen anyone since.
She had felt certain of the exact time of the meeting. Yet she hadn't remembered how she had scheduled the appointment or even what it had involved.
It had to do with something that harlot Giselle was working on. Frowning, she tried to think about it.
The compact clapped open immediately. Her gaze snapped to the mirror.
More eyeshadow.
That's what she needed.
She reached for her cosmetics. A moment later she had the small case open.
Fiona smiled as she applied a little extra powder to the corners of her eyelids. She could feel herself relaxing as she did.
When she finished she examined herself carefully in the small mirror.
Her mouth turned down in displeasure. The lipstick seemed faded again. She shook her head slightly as she reached for the red tube.
She could barely contain the feeling of well being as the waxy substance passed over her lips.
A delicious sound escaped through those luscious pillows. They looked so plump. So full.
Fiona ran her tongue slowly over them, savoring the sensation. They seemed a touch swollen.
The realization caused a small tingle to pass through her.
A moment later she heard the door open.
Euphemia, her secretary, had entered. She wore a tight combination of leather that pressed those delightful curves in ways that left Fiona's mouth dry.
The younger woman had her hair dyed into a shocking pink. But it looked perfect with the makeup she wore. Fiona had to blink a few times.
She could have sworn that Euphemia despised to look so, slutty.
The woman's hips rolled in an exaggerated way as she approached.
Fiona's eyes were drawn to those hips as the secretary moved, the way her body rolled and twisted had her licking her lips, unconsciously, her hand already reaching for the tube of lipstick that was always with her.
"Good morning, bitch," the woman said in a breathy tone that sounded strange to the older woman.
She nodded, her thoughts a whirlwind of confused ideas. "Thank you, darling" she murmured softly.
A flicker of confusion appeared in Euphemia's eyes. But before another word left the secretary she reached into her brassiere and took out a familiar compact.
Fiona shivered. Something about these mirrors wad wrong. She had to - put another layer on her lips. That's all she really needed to do.
Both women looked at the mirror and then they were staring at each other's mouths. "My lips look too pale," said Euphemia in a low breathy voice. She reached for the lipstick. Fiona watched, fascinated as the younger woman's tongue flicked over those black lips. Fiona felt an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss them. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. What had just happened? She couldn't quite remember.
"You're looking like a fine fuck, bitch" the secretary purred as she put her compact away and Fiona's eyes returned to those painted black lips, mesmerized. "We'll need you looking your best for today's meeting."
"Of course, darling," Fiona replied distractedly. "We need to look the best for Giselle."
Euphemia smiled and licked those lips again, a gesture which sent shivers down Fiona's spine. The older woman had no idea what she was doing, or why, but the thought was so appealing she could not help herself. As Euphemia turned to leave, Fiona caught her wrist.
Euphemia raised her eyebrow inquisitively and glanced at Fiona.
"I-I want to taste," Fiona began, but the rest of her sentence was lost in the soft press of the other woman's lips.
Their tongues tangled together in an exquisite dance. Euphemia sucked on her lips greedily, leaving her breathless and weak in the knees. When they broke the kiss, Euphemia giggled at the expression of pure bliss that crossed the older woman's face. She traced her fingers over the swollen, red lips and grinned wickedly. "Now you have to do all the makeup again, bitch." The thought seemed to send shivers through the older woman and Fiona smiled widely. The prospect of reapplying makeup seemed positively thrilling.
Euphemia giggled again and turned to leave the office, her hips rolling in a seductive sway.
Fiona returned to the compact mirror and stared into its depths.
Without thoughts she started applying layers and layers of makeup to her face, painting over everything unseemly.
***
Giselle looked at the two women who had entered her little corner of the business.
They were a treat to the eye. Fiona had a body that had aged like a fine wine. Her curves, her long legs and that magnificent cleavage. Her face had been covered with layers of makeup that made her look delicious. And definitely more like a slutty parody of her usual professional self.
Giselle could feel herself getting aroused by just looking at her.
Then there was Euphemia. That young, vibrant creature with the perfect little ass and her perky breasts, just asking to be played with, looked like she stepped right out of some punk or goth porn. All black makeup, black clothes and a shock of pink hair.
Giselle didn't think that her compacts would be that strong. Or maybe she had underestimated the desire in those women to look more slutty. To become the perfect playthings for her and her clients.
"There are going to be some changes around here," Giselle said with her sweetest smile.
"What kind of changes?" asked Fiona. Her eyes were slightly unfocused as if she had been drinking all day. A strand of saliva ran down the side of her mouth. She giggled as she wiped at it with a fingertip. "We've been busy."
"Yes, I know. You've worked hard." Giselle's voice dripped honey and venom in equal measure. "And that's exactly why change is needed. First, Fiona, I want every employee to have a compact."
"I'll make sure everyone gets one." The woman nodded obediently, licking her lips.
Giselle's eyes sparkled dangerously. She turned her gaze to Euphemia, who was standing quietly next to her. "Second point, Euphemia, I want some changes done to the internal messaging system. It should reflect our new business model: Luscious Lips and Slutty Sex," Giselle announced grandly. Her voice had a lilting quality to it that seemed to mesmerize the two women before her.
"Yes, mistress." The young woman smiled, licking her lips. Her tongue flicked over them suggestively.
"And finally," Giselle's eyes narrowed slightly. "You two tarts are making me wet. I need some, entertainment." Her hand slipped down between her thighs.
Euphemia and Fiona exchanged looks, then nodded in unison. Their expressions became lascivious and hungry as they knelt before her.
Giselle smiled wickedly, spreading her legs wider. "Good girls." Her hand dipped beneath the waistband of her panties, finding the wet warmth within. "Let's begin, shall we?"
"Yes, Mistress." The two women spoke simultaneously, their voices dripping with lust.
Giselle leaned back, enjoying the marks their plump pillow lips left on her flesh.
She couldn't wait for everyone to have a small compact in their pocket. They had so many better thoughts than people.
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"I, um, I just have to edge more, that's all," Ericka muttered, although Josie could see her friend's fingers coming away slick and messy every time they slid between the soft pink labia and her voice had the slurred, sleepy quality of someone intoxicated almost to the point of insensibility. "M-Master explained it all to me, there's, like, this place you get to once you get past all the neediness and stuff where your mind gets clear again and everything makes sense, and if I find it I⌠I'll understand. But if I stop now, I'll never find it. You get why I can't stop, don't you, Josie?"
The scary part was, Josie almost did. She could still feel that impulse tugging away at the back of her brain, reminding her how good it felt to just hang out with Ericka at her apartment and smoke weed and watch porn while they played with their messy cunts, and even though she hadn't drifted nearly as far into the particular kink Ericka was describing and some of the very special videos that went along with it she could still remember that warm, soothing voice telling her how nice it would be if she only put off cumming a tiny bit longer and let her clitty throb her worries away. Her fingers twitched with the desire to rub, and it took all her self-control to focus on Ericka's words instead of her pussy and murmur, "I--I think that was a lie."
Josie watched Ericka's face as the other woman tried to absorb the implications of that statement, seeing her pale pink forehead contort in a desperate effort to push past the hours of programming and the constant pulses of tingling lust to actually think with a brain that had become fully atrophied by hypnosis and porn, and the petite blonde was embarrassed to realize that the sight only made it harder to keep herself from masturbating. Ericka looked so sexy like that, one hand on her tits and the other on her cunt and the light of intelligence flickering only fitfully behind her eyes, and it made Josie's pussy ache just looking at it. There was an open bag of weed gummies on the table, and Josie couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to just pop one or two in her mouth and let her attention drift to the hypnosis file playing in the background instead of the conversation.
It sluggishly occurred to her that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave it playing in the first place, and keeping her focus elsewhere while the soothing voice slipped into her ears might be making this so much harder, but Josie was distracted from the thought when Ericka's confusion melted into a dreamy, placid smile and she simply uttered, "Master always knows best," in a vacant monotone that made Josie's clit pound like a bass drum just hearing it. That made it hard to concentrate on pretty much anything, but fortunately Josie had an idea of how to handle that--she just slid off her bikini, pressed her fingers to her pussy, and let herself rub. She'd heard somewhere that if she just edged long enough she would be able to think clearly again, without the maddening pulse of arousal fogging up her brain⌠and while she couldn't remember who'd told her, Josie knew it sounded like perfect advice to her.
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Mister Wren got back to the car only to find Ana in the driver's seat, sitting next to the wide open door with her legs spread and her panties pulled to the side and an expression of intense concentration on her face as she pistoned a dildo in and out of her sloppy cunt as fast as her arm would allow it. "Let me guess," he said with a chuckle, watching with delight in his eyes as she started in sudden awareness of his presence. "You thought that when I went to go take a leak, you were just going to slip away and make a break for it and worry about finding the rest of your clothes later, huh?" Ana's brow furrowed in fear and shame and concern⌠but she didn't stop masturbating. She couldn't.
Wren rested his hand on her knee, knowing that the intimacy of even a simple touch would drive Ana even deeper into the frenzy of lust that consumed her. "But when you wriggled up to the front seat and you opened that door to get out, you felt all wet and needy and desperate, straight out of nowhere, and it occurred to you that if you could just get off before you made a break for it then your head would be clearer and your mind wouldn't be so mushy and you'd have an easier time escaping. Is that right? How am I doing with these guesses, sweetie?" Ana nodded, a blush darkening her light brown cheeks as the awareness of her own pathetic predictability made her fuck herself that much harder. The petite young woman looked so adorable when she was cramming a dildo into her soaking cunt.
"And you were sure you were so horny, so wet and ready to pop off, that all you needed to do was get that dildo out of the glove compartment--the one you knew was there--and it would only take you, what, a few seconds to make yourself cum?" Ana nodded again, her expression sheepish as Mister Wren's description made it obvious just how expected her futile burst of defiance actually was. She couldn't talk, apart from a few keening whimpers that sapped the rest of her eloquence and made it abundantly clear just how lost in arousal she'd become, but Wren had done this a few times and he knew just what the look on her face meant.
"But you've been trying and trying and trying, and you didn't know where I was or why I was taking so long but you've secretly been hoping I would come back for a while now, and you've been hoping that because you can't cum without permission and I'm the only one who can give it because I'm your Master and you're so grateful to see me even though it makes you feel so weak and pathetic to be caught like this and you don't know what to do with any of those emotions so why don't you just CUM." Wren let his voice gradually slide into a coaxing, hypnotic tone as he watched her face go slack with concentration, and he put so much emphasis on the final word that Ana instantly understood that she was hearing an inescapable command. Her whole body tensed in climax, the whimpers becoming loud, desperate wails, and any hopes she might have had of escape evaporated when she couldn't stop cumming until she passed out from sheer pleasure. Wren manhandled her body into the passenger seat, got back into the car, and continued on to their eventual destination.
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"Cuhhh⌠c'mon, Jen, we gotta fight itâŚ." The words came out sleepy and slurred, and Daniel could already tell from the look on Jen's face that she was barely even listening to her friend's words let alone taking them to heart as inspiration. Jen, who was the taller of the two, already had her hand inside her panties and was rubbing her cunt with an expression of dull-witted but studious concentration on her vacant face, while the other young woman--the one who bore just enough of a resemblance to a 90s-era Winona Ryder to grab Daniel's attention in the first place--was still furrowing her brow in a desperate attempt to tear her gaze away from the spiral he was using on them. But her sundress lay on the floor and he knew she was doomed to fail.
Jen mumbled, "uhm, uhh, uh huh?" in a confused grunt that pretty much ended Daniel's hopes of finding out the other woman's name before they were done with their conditioning; it sounded like she was pretty much done with thinking for the time being, or at least with any thoughts that didn't flow into her head from the hypnotic spiral they both watched. Whoever her friend was, she was now reflexively rubbing her pussy through her pink satin panties, and the sheer gratifying eroticism of the sight made Daniel so glad he'd decided to install a camera just above the screen that flickered to life the moment they entered the 'survey booth'--half the fun of taking new slaves was in watching their resistance slowly, inexorably crumble and Little Miss Ryder was genuinely putting on a show.
It was the way her tits jiggled, honestly. She had a small chest, because Daniel liked them short and petite and he was used to his girls not having much up top, but there was enough to quiver and the way she shook and trembled in a desperate but ultimately useless attempt to look at anything but the spiral was making her bounce so adorably. Daniel didn't always masturbate while he watched the conditioning take root, but seeing one woman struggle so hard while the other stared vacuously and lost herself in pleasure was truly something of a delight. "No, Jen, noooo," the Winona lookalike moaned, and the despair in her voice sent a gush of precum trickling out onto Daniel's stroking hand.
It took almost two whole minutes before the young woman's trembling fingers slid inside her panties to further her inevitable subjugation, and by then Jen was already murmuring, "Why are you trying to fight it, Rochelle? It feels so fucking good," in a seductive purr that slowly smoothed the furrows out of her friend's brow and left her nodding in vacant, thoughtless agreement. Finally hearing the name was kind of disappointing, and Daniel decided he was going to make her answer to Winona whenever they were alone together--not that he was probably going to see her that often, not unless she told him under hypnosis that nobody would miss her if she disappeared, but the chance was always present. Daniel never forgot a slack and mesmerized face, and he had slaves all over the country who didn't even know they belonged to him⌠and he might just contrive a few opportunities to visit with someone who made his dick this hard. When they both began to chant their mantras, Daniel spurted cum all over his pumping fist.
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"Mmmm, you like that taste, don't you sweetie?" Valerie nodded, although of course Mona knew that the younger woman would agree right now to just about anything Mona asked her. She could have said, 'You're a duck-billed platypus, aren't you, sweetie?' and Valerie would have given her that same guileless, mesmerized stare and bobbed her head up and down in that exact same thoughtless manner, and that was why Mona's cunt was leaking all over Valerie's cheeks as the hypnotized woman knelt between Mona's spread legs and made out with her pussy. She'd never seen anyone slide this eagerly into trance, and she'd definitely never seen anyone become this suggestible this fast.
But cute little Valerie wasn't a novice subject, even though it was their first time playing together and Mona's first chance to get inside Valerie's suggestible brain. She'd seen the young woman posting online before, dropping for text inductions that compelled her to repost them and sharing her favorite spirals and even taking anonymous questions from strangers who messed with her head in the most delightful ways, and so it wasn't exactly a surprise that when she murmured, "The taste of my pussy takes you deeper and deeper, pretty girl," Valerie's eyes went even more glassy and her tongue spiked as far as it would go into Mona's soaking folds to collect as much of the nectar as she could find. She was truly a slut for hypnosis and it was sexy as goddamn fuck to a dominant like Mona.
Not that she was going to do anything they hadn't negotiated in advance, or anything, but⌠well, that left a whole lot of leeway. When Valerie found out there was a hypnotist who was actually close enough to local that they could meet in person their very first time, she didn't exactly put a lot of conditions on their interaction and in fact Mona had to pump the brakes on a few of the younger woman's more excitable ideas. She was the one who limited the suggestions that would go into Valerie's mesmerized mind, and she was the one who insisted on a public meeting even though they both had a pretty good idea that the caveat of 'we can go to a hotel if we really hit it off' was going to become a certainty very quickly. Valerie just kind of brought that out in people.
Which was probably why all sorts of ideas for what to do with the blank-eyed, blissfully smiling slut between her thighs kept popping into Mona's head, but she tried to control herself. This was only their first time, she'd put in a reinduction trigger and that was about the limit of the permanent suggestions they'd negotiated, and everything else could wait until Mona was sated and Valerie was awake and they both had a chance to really think about what had happened between them. But it didn't stop her from gasping out, "Oh, fuck, you're such a good girl!" as she tangled her fingers into Valerie's hair and rode her to one climax after another, and her imagination was already going wild with everything she could teach this adorably malleable little toy. Valerie was everything she could possibly have hoped for in a submissive⌠and this day was already going even better than she could have hoped for.
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Girl that bullied you in high school recognizing you at the bar, despite everything estrogen has done to your body since.
Girl that apologizes for all of that, says she was going through a lot figuring out she was gay and took it out on you and feels bad about it, so she buys you a few drinks to apologize.
Girl that feels really comfortable to be around after you notice you her turning away a few guys with a sharp glare so you can be alone with her.
Girl that offhandedly jokes that she can take you out back and give you one last wedgie "for old times sake"
Girl that looks confused when you get visibly blushy and flustered and moan like you need something when she places a hand on your back near your waistband.
Girl whose heartrate spikes when you accidentally let slip that youve been fantasizing about her doing that exact thing to you for the last 15 years.
Girl who smiles sadistically as she invites you back to her place so she can bully you the way she always wanted to back when she didnt know why she thought you were cute.
Girl that smirks and suddenly grips your panties and yanks them up right as youre about to get in the taxi just so she can hear all thoae adorable noises shes been missing for the past decade and a half
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Ductaping a vibe to her clit on medium and asking her questions. Turning it lower with every correct answer she gives. Turning it up every time she answers wrong.
Sheâs a smart girl (not for long, but even dummies are good at pattern recognition) and will answer wrong to chase her pleasure.
When she canât answer even the most basic questions, fuck her as hard as you can until she cums. Then start again
First date with this cute guy, so im dressed up all cute. Hair done, nails polished, outfit a mix of cute and just a little showy. He speaks so pretty, all big and smart words. It soaks my tiny little panties snd it makes me shift.
He notices. Orders me a drink snd says: âiâll make you a deal. Either you tell me how wet you are, or you take this drink.â
When the drink arrives, he plops a little tablet inside and mixes it until i cant see it. So, admit im soaked through my panties (and that drink trick didnât help) or get drugged and likely raped behind the building.
I admit it. He tells me to down the drink before he sits next to me and pries my legs open. I try to chug the drinkk but its impossible. He shoves his hand under my skirt and hums at the wet panties. Is it the adrenaline makinh me woozy or the drink?
âLetâs play a game: i help you cum by the time you pass out, or we go to the car right now.â
Theres no promise of freedom, and we end up in the car either way.
âWhat do you think: will it take a week to break you? Or a month?â
You Meet the Most Interesting People Working in Community Theater
"I think we need to talk about these silly little notions of yours," Becca murmured, her sultry voice rendered infinitely more seductive by the two fingers buried in Susan's cunt all the way up to the knuckle. "Now, you were telling me you were straight just an hour ago, and I think that's so adorable of you, but I don't think it really fits the facts, do you? I think it's really better to describe you as a needy bisexual slut who's so desperate for a big hard cummie that she can't keep her hands off her tits while I finger her pussy, and you have to admit--that suits you so much better, doesn't it?"
Susan tried to reply, even though her muddled brain wasn't sure whether she planned to spit back some useless defiance or simply beg for the climax she could feel pressing in on her, but her words were obliterated even in the privacy of her own head when Becca's thumb found Susan's clit and rubbed her to an explosive grunt of pure ecstasy. Susan's fingers pinched her own nipple so hard it practically hurt, desperate to add that tiny little extra bit of sensation she knew would get her over the edge, but Becca was a master at reading people and refused to give it to her. She kept Susan right where she wanted her, the whole time, waiting for an admission Susan knew it would be a mistake to give.
And she was so fucking nice about it, too. "Ohhh, sweetie!" she cooed, the words dripping with mock sympathy even as her eyes drank in the sight of Susan's desperate thrashing with playful amusement sparkling in their depths. "I know, it's so hard for you being all stuck like that, isn't it? Don't worry, I know I can help you. All you need to do is tell me the truth, just say you're a bisexual slut and you need me to make you cum, and I can make all that frustration go away. Don't you want that, baby girl? Don't you want to stop needing this so much?" Susan's eyelids squeezed shut, and her back arched on the prop bed they were supposed to be getting out of storage for the summer play. She knew there was no way out of this except to admit defeat, but she didn't know where that would lead so she tried her best to hold onto her only ally--silence.
She failed. Susan didn't know how long it took, because time lost all meaning when Becca was playing with her cunt like that, but eventually she heard a thin, reedy whimper gasping out, "I⌠I'm a bisexual slutâŚ." and she realized the voice belonged to her. It completed the dissociation she'd been drifting into ever since Becca began touching her, convincing her fully that she was nothing more than a passenger in her own body watching her descent into lesbian submission, and she gave up trying to fight anymore as she heard herself say, "And I need you to make me cum." It didn't seem real, none of it did, but the orgasm she experienced was very real and it was the best climax she'd ever had in her entire life.
It wasn't nearly enough to sate her, though, and soon she was weakly grasping at Becca's wrist in a pathetic effort to keep the other woman's hand inside her cunt. "Oh, does my good girl need some more?" Becca chuckled, clearly expecting exactly this kind of submissive behavior now that the first violent cracks had shown in Susan's resistance. "Well, I think she's going to have to earn it. I think she's going to have to tell me just what she's willing to do for another big, strong cummie like that." The use of the third person only intensified Susan's dissociation from her own identity, and she found herself dazedly agreeing with Becca's words as if they were talking about someone else entirely. There were still six whole weeks before the play even premiered, and Susan was now fully certain that by the time it wrapped production she'd be nothing more than a helpless slave to the woman fingering her slick pussy.
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"Oh dear, someone looks very full!" Marcie exclaimed cheerfully, barely even keeping up a pretense at sympathy as she unsnapped the straps on Rory's dress to send it tumbling down and expose her lush, heavy tits. "Oh, sweetie, it's no wonder you came over a little bit early today, your udders have to be absolutely aching right now!" Rory furrowed her brow in a desperate attempt to figure out why Marcie called her breasts 'udders', or what she meant about coming over early, or really just anything that had been going on over the last several weeks, but it was so hard to think with that constant ache of pressure in her chest and she instead found herself wandering over to the kitchen island and bracing herself against it in a surprisingly familiar pose.
"That's a good girl," Marcie cooed, placing a steel pail on the stool just underneath Rory and giving her right breast a playful squeeze. "You're getting to be so well-trained now, and doesn't that feel so nice, sweetie? Doesn't it just feel so wonderful to come to me whenever you need help with those big pretty udders of yours?" Rory didn't know why she nodded, and she understood even less why the verbal response she'd planned to make had been replaced by a loud, lowing moo, but before she could begin the seemingly impossible task of unpacking it all in her feeble brain Marcie gave her nipple a tug and everything gushed out of her mind in a long, steady stream of creamy milk.
It wasn't even that it felt good on a physical level, although the sense of release and the hot, tingling pleasure of having her sensitive nipple played with was enough to make Rory's eyes roll back in her head with mindless arousal. It was more that it felt so satisfying, that on some level she couldn't escape a profound degree of contented fulfillment from just bending over with her tits out and her mind rapidly descending into stupefied ecstasy while her neighbor from down the hall milked her like a piece of livestock. Being a cow seemed so much easier than being a person, and Rory's muddled thoughts finally found a single clear and blissful memory as she recalled that first glorious day when her breasts began to express those first few drops of milk. "Good cow," Marcie murmured, and Rory couldn't help agreeing.
She wound up giving almost a full pint that afternoon, with Marcie's hands going from one breast to the other until she was finally drained, and by then she was so turned on that she let herself be led to Marcie's sybian with a blank and blissful smile on her flushed face. Marcie settled Rory down onto the vibrating saddle, purring, "I'm so proud of my pretty little cow," and then she put on a video that emptied Rory's mind out almost before she knew it was even happening. Rory grunted and moaned as the buzz finally satisfied the urgent throb between her legs, fully convincing her subconscious to go along with the programming her waking mind barely even remembered now, and by the time she finally slumped over it was almost time for her to go to bed. But Marcie made sure she got one last milking in, just to ensure she slept well when she trotted vacantly back to her own apartment to sleep.
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Ellie stood naked in front of the two doors, her head full of cobwebs as she tried to remember the old logic puzzles she read back in her childhood in the hopes of applying them to the conundrum staring blankly back at her. She knew one of these doors led to a closet with her clothes in it, and once she got dressed she could turn around and walk out the door behind her leading to the outside world and some kind of freedom from the hypnotic conditioning that was pummeling her brain into submission⌠and the other door led to the bedroom and Marilyn, who would take the opportunity to ensure that Ellie spent another day flat on her back getting fucked until her mind was a squishy, malleable mess. But she didn't know which was which.
Her memory was no help to her either. Ellie knew she'd staggered out of one door, dazed and confused and bare-ass naked apart from a pair of ankle-length purple socks that made the hardwood floors a bit more comfortable, but she was always so out of it when she finally managed to make her way out of Marilyn's bedroom that she had no idea which door it was even when she looked at the living room from both angles. The only thing she really had to go on was the sure and certain knowledge that her horny, obedient subconscious was going to try to trick her into trotting right back to Marilyn for more brainwashing, because this was part of the little game Marilyn played with her and the more she fell for it the more she convinced herself that she must not really want to resist in the first place.
So she needed to pick the door she didn't want to pick. That made sense. That was obvious. But Ellie's subconscious was clever, far smarter than Ellie was at the moment thanks to multiple sessions of brain-scrambling hypnosis that left her blissfully dumb and ditzy, so it was entirely possible that it would try to steer her away from the door that led to Marilyn knowing that reverse psychology would prompt her to pick it instead and get sucked in for another few hours of deep conditioning. But then again maybe that was the trick, and her sneaky subconscious was actually gaslighting her into ignoring her own instincts so that she would walk right into the bedroom thinking she was outfoxing her own mind even though that was⌠god was it even possible? Could she outthink the part of herself that was making her dumb in the first place? Just contemplating it made Ellie squirm with arousal.
And that put her decision on a timer, because Ellie knew the longer she stood there the more confused she got and the more confused she got the more her pussy got wet and leaky and throbby, and if she didn't pick a door soon then she'd just start listening to her swollen clit and that would lead her back to Marilyn anyway. So she reached for one of the doorknobs, and then she felt a surge of warmth and pleasure and happiness and pulled her hand away, and then she reached for the other doorknob and tentatively twisted it. And when the door swung open, once again revealing Marilyn's smiling face and a warm, soft bed that Ellie knew all too well, her resistance melted away before she could do anything to stop herself from going inside.
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"Oh sweetie," Caryn cooed, watching Zelda's eyes slowly rotate inward to stare at the bridge of her own nose as the thick silicone cock slid home. "See what I mean about it happening easier every single time? You used to be so much better at thinking, but now all I have to do is push my big dick into your wet pussy and you get so stupid for me. Isn't that right, baby girl? Aren't you getting so dumb for Mistress now that you've got something nice and firm between your pretty pink pussy lips?" Zelda didn't answer, but her tongue began to loll out of her mouth in an expression of mindless vapidity and that was really its own kind of answer as far as Caryn was concerned.
So she just purred, "Of course you are, sweetie," and pushed Zelda's legs further apart with her hands so she could use the strap-on in long, deep strokes that filled Zelda's cunt again and again right up to the toy's molded silicone balls. "You're such a perfect brainless little slut now, you can't even think a single thought once my cock gets inside you. It just empties that silly head of yours and turns you into a perfect fucktoy for Mistress, and every time you get that much dumber that much faster. You don't even remember when you started letting the hypnosis win, do you?" Again the only response was that same cross-eyed stare and a trickle of drool down her cheek, but that was exactly what Caryn wanted. It was so much simpler programming her slave without any of that pesky mind in the way.
"And next time you're going to go blank and stupid for me even quicker," Caryn murmured, tiny huffs of exertion roughening her dulcet tones ever so slightly. "Even just seeing me wearing the harness, with that big fake cock jutting out, it starts to make your silly little brain all slow and stupid. You have so much trouble figuring out why you came over here, so much trouble understanding why you can't seem to stop yourself from taking your clothes off, and once I push that nice thick dick inside you it all just goes⌠poof!" She added a bit of extra force to the thrust as she spoke, and was gratified to hear Zelda give a mewling grunt of ecstasy. She was pretty sure the young woman spent her entire trance time cumming now, not that she could really get a lot of intelligent feedback on the topic.
There was no intelligence left in Zelda at all anymore, really, and when she finally emerged from her trance she'd have no memory of even submitting to hypnosis much less an ability to describe what happened to her. She had two states now, sweet and submissive co-ed who was eager to please the older neighbor she had a crush on and mindless ahegao fucktoy, and although Caryn enjoyed both of them she had to admit that nothing got her off more than putting on her strap-on harness and watching Zelda's mind coast to a stop. "You're my good little slut forever, aren't you, sweetie pie?" she asked, and she felt an electric rush of pleasure and power as she once again realized the only answer in Zelda's empty head right now was yes.
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