Kotaaaaaaa

"You didn't know about your off switch, did you?" Jimmy asked, but by then the words were just pleasant noise in Cara's ears. She had a momentary, lingering impression of shock and surprise--after all, it wasn't every day that a man simply sat down next to her and started to play with her pussy through her slacks, at least not as far as she knew--but soon that faded and all that was left in her head was the warm, mellow pleasure pulsing away in her swollen clit. The muscles in her legs slackened into akimbo lethargy, giving Jimmy wider access to her slickening cunt, and he was quick to take advantage of it.

"I didn't think so," he added conversationally, even though Cara's face was now expressionless and her jaw hung open and her gaze had melted into a sightless stare. "Most of Bobby's girls, he likes to keep 'em in the dark about things like that, and I guess it's easy to do when you've always got an off switch you can use whenever you want to slip something into their heads, am I right?" Cara didn't answer, because in all the ways that mattered Cara wasn't there; she noticed him rubbing in gentle circles directly over her clit, and she had a vague awareness of his free hand undoing her fly to get her pants off, but everything else was running in neutral at the moment. She might as well have been a blow-up doll for all the resistance she offered.

"But I guess it works, whether you know it or not," he went on, shucking Cara's pants and panties and leaving her naked from the waist down. She discovered that she went even blanker and deeper once his thumb slipped inside her pussy to skate directly over her clit, and his callused fingers soon rendered her so utterly insensate that she didn't even notice him undoing the buttons on her blouse with her free hand. "It's that whatchamacallit, your deep self or your hidden observer or whatever. I dunno, that's all Bobby's department. I'm just happy he lets me play with the girls." Cara's bra soon followed the rest of her clothing, and he laid her down on her back. Cara barely even knew Jimmy's name, but she was offering no objections when he fucked her in the ass.

She did let out a little grunt when he first penetrated her, purely as an involuntary reaction, but he kept his thumb on his clit and soon she was staring vacantly up at the ceiling while he plowed her asshole with thrust after eager thrust. "Awww, fuck, yeah, there's a…. there's a good girl," he grunted, but of course Cara wasn't really listening because the only thing in her head was a non-stop climax that rang her brain like a gong. She couldn't stop cumming, and every orgasm stopped her thoughts before they could even start, and months of conditioning had gotten her almost entirely out of the habit of even trying to use her mind in the first place. She was one of Bobby's happy little dolls now, her will switched off and entirely absent, and when Jimmy let go with a torrent of spunk deep inside her ass she only sighed in vacant contentment. And that was truly all he wanted her to do.

💜SC💜

"I--wait, what, w-what did you say?" Betsy's eyes crossed and uncrossed, over and over again as she tried to remember the words Darrell had just used and found to her dismay that they resolutely refused to stick in her head. She could recall the entire sentence before them, she could precisely and distinctly remember the liquid rush of pleasure between her thighs on hearing them, but every time she tried to think of what he actually said she just felt like her thoughts were getting bogged down in quicksand. Until the mental effort became too much and she just stood there with her jaw slackening in an expression of amiable stupidity, which also made her pussy embarrassingly wet.

The look of amused condescension on Darrell's face made her even wetter. "I said," he purred, followed by another string of syllables that slipped right past Betsy's dozy, distracted brain and left her tugging at the buttons of her blouse before she could even understand what her fingers were doing. He followed the strange, incomprehensible phrase with, "Isn't that right, sweetie? Aren't you getting so dumb and dopey for me now?" and Betsy let out a tiny whimper as her mind slowed down even further trying to catch up to what was said in those brief instants where her intellect simply flat-lined. She realized her tongue was hanging out of her mouth, but somehow reeling it in seemed like far too much effort.

"..uuhhnn annn oo-ee?" she mumbled, barely able to grunt out the syllables in her confusion, and it was astonishing how wet it made Betsy just to hear herself sound like a stupid slut for her Master. She noticed the term she'd just used for her boyfriend, a Freudian slip that seemed to come from that same deep and thoughtless place inside her head where the phrase he used slipped off to, and that made her feel even more squirmy and slutty and needy and desperate to get down on all fours for her lover. It was only when her knees touched the softness of the sheepskin rug that she realized she'd slipped off her skirt as well as her blouse, and either she'd never had anything on underneath them or the memory of removing them had disappeared entirely along with the garments themselves.

"That's my good girl," Darrell murmured, caressing Betsy's forehead as her expression settled into a vacant, cross-eyed stare. "That's my--" He said words after that, she just knew he did, but they were words that made her mind as thick and sludgy as overcooked porridge and she couldn't make her dopey brain understand them no matter how hard she tried. That was in fact a part of the trap she was caught in, she sluggishly realized--the harder she struggled to pay attention, the more of her wit she used up and the quicker she was reduced to a drooling ahegao slut for her Master. That didn't make any kind of rational sense, but it felt intuitively right and anyway Betsy's reason was rapidly diminishing into a warm, wet throb of lust between her legs.

She wound up taking his cock in both her mouth and her pussy by the time Darrell was done with her, and every time he used that phrase Betsy's mind got slower and sleepier until by the end she couldn't really follow a single thing he said. Which only felt better and better as more and more of her brain leaked out her cunt, and when she woke she discovered that she couldn't wait to be talked down to like that again.

"You know it was all over for you once I got your clothes off, right?" Jenna doesn't, not really. She doesn't know much of anything right now beyond the impossibly powerful pulses of lust radiating out from her clit and sending sympathetic tingles through all the nerves surrounding it, and her mind is so consumed with ecstasy that she can barely remember she's trying to jack Phillip's cock the same way he's playing with her pussy. But she nods and she whimpers something vaguely close to agreement, because Phillip is making her feel so fucking good right now that she wants to go along with everything he says. It's been that way the whole night and by now her brain barely even works anymore.

But obviously Phillip doesn't feel the same way because he's still able to speak in full coherent sentences even as Jenna's been reduced to writhing, moaning surrender. "This is control through direct neural induction, sweetie. Once I touched your clit, there were just so many nerve endings packed into one place that I could simply swamp your own mental impulses with my signals and you… well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you were reduced to a mewling, simpering whore for me, weren't you?" Jenna can't really put the depth of her agreement into words, not with her whole cunt spasming in repeated orgasm, so she just kisses Phillip's bare chest in gratitude and hopes he understands how much she adores him right now.

"I mean, honestly you were pretty screwed the moment we shook hands," Phillip continues, and for just a moment Jenna remembers that this didn't start as a sexual encounter or even so much as a blind date--they met at a business conference, and the moment her fingers touched his she felt a warm, drifting wave of amiable pleasure that never seemed to end and made it easy to just go with the flow and follow him wherever he led. He didn't let go of her hand until she had her blouse open and her nipples were easily accessible, and that felt--oh, fuck, that felt almost as good as getting her clit rubbed. "…surprised by how many nerve endings are in your fingertips," Jenna hears her lover say, and even though she didn't mean to tune him out she knows her subconscious is soaking up every word.

"But yeah, once I get to your clit that's pretty much it for your free will," Phillip concludes, chuckling at her spasmodic strokes and the frantic, uncoordinated kisses she plants on his body. "I can just map out your entire nervous system from here, send pulses of pleasure straight up to your brain and follow the pings back out to every square inch of your skin, and rewire the whole thing for obedience in a matter of minutes. We're almost done, sweetie, and once it's all finished you can start making my cock happy… and doesn't that sound so good?" It does, and Jenna feels literal tears of joy leaking out from the corners of her tightly shut eyes as she contemplates the notion of her own subjugation and finds it more beautiful than anything she can possibly imagine. She's never going to stop cumming for her Master, she realizes… and she's so grateful that she knows she'll always be happy to obey.

Alice would have understood the principle behind the Mandelbrot Spiral better than most others, if she was still capable of thinking once the image burned its way into her retinas and traveled from there down her optic nerve to her brain. She was a professional coder specializing in packaging and delivering crucial software updates, she knew the science of data compression inside and out--the notion of taking a vast amount of information and reducing it in size for easy transmission before it was unpacked in the target computer made perfect sense to her, even if she never thought of her own mind as the operating system of a piece of hardware made out of lipids and water and just as vulnerable to hacking as any other. This was all very much in her wheelhouse.

That didn't stop her from collapsing to the floor like a puppet with cut strings, smacking her cheek painfully hard against the concrete despite Tilda's best efforts to slow her fall. Once Alice actually saw the spiral, and the visual information packed into the fractal details of its swirl beamed their way into her brain as a pattern of precisely encoded light, she was too busy unpacking her new programming to care about anything as distant and irrelevant as her voluntary muscles. She stared sightlessly in gape-mouthed awe, lost in almost religious wonder at the new and unswayable truths unfolding inside her head, and every second brought a hundred new revelations that she could no more dispute than a computer could argue with its malware. Alice was learning first-hand how little information security her mind possessed, not that she could really conceive of the attack on her systems once it began and her critical thinking skills went offline.

She didn't even really notice Tilda undressing her; the sensation of cool floor against her warm body was input, yes, but she was getting so much new information from the memetic virus colonizing her frontal lobe that it was impossible to focus on anything else. When Tilda shoved three fingers into Alice's cunt--not to stimulate her, but simply to check on the stuttering clenches that demonstrated the progress of Alice's pleasure conditioning--it didn't register at all, because her entire limbic system was being rewired to associate obedience with rapt, euphoric ecstasy and the actual signals from even her most sensitive organs didn't matter compared to that. Alice started cumming within seconds, but Tilda had very little to do with it anymore.

Thankfully, Tilda had chosen both her time and her location well. Nobody came into the basement to disturb them during the two or three hours it took for the lifetime's worth of data to unpack itself inside Alice's head, and nobody heard her moans and whimpers of ecstasy as she accepted and absorbed an entire new narrative of her existence focused on serving and servicing her new Mistress. Her cunt was a leaky mess by the time it all finished, leaving a small puddle on the concrete beneath her, but that would be easy to clean up and in fact Tilda knew she would have an enthusiastic volunteer. Alice emerged from her conditioning an irrevocably devoted lesbian slave… and one of the most fractal things about the Mandelbrot Spiral was the way it made Alice want to repeat the process with someone else.

"Wow, you're handling this a lot better than I thought you would."

Yeah, well, you thought I was a lightweight, didn't you? What was it you said, I would tap out after two orgasms? No way. My will is fucking indomitable, asshole. I can--nnhhh! I can keep this thing right on my clit until the goddamn cows come home.

"No, no, I'm definitely very impressed by the strength of your will. And the dildo up your ass? It's not too big?"

It's--ohhh, ffffuccckkk…. It's like I told you. I can take the biggest toy you have and--hhhhhh--and keep fucking it until your arm gets tired. I, I love a challenge, motherfucker. I can always beat you, I can always… w-win….

"And you're still staring into the spiral, right? I mean, inside your mind?"

Oh, that motherfucker's never leaving. You think I'm easy to hypnotize? I'm ten fucking times easier, bitch. I, uh, I'll--um, I'll drop like a rock and g-go, umm… go into a… a deep… suggestible… trance? W-wait, something's… um, something's wrong here….

"What's wrong is that you're already trying to think for yourself after only an hour. I thought you told me you'd never resist me again."

Uh--oh. Yeah. Right. Because I'm too strong to resist. I'm determined to surrender and you… you can never beat my determination.

"That's a very good girl. You're so strong, and you show me how strong you are every time you accept one of my suggestions. I'm really very impressed. How many times have you cum for me, sweetie?"

…um… five?

"Let's go for ten. That's not too many for you, is it?"

Nuhhh… no, Master.

"I didn't think so."