One programmed hypnobot

can you imagine?

“I’ve never seen you eat are you insecure” “no…”

“here let me lift that for you” “I got it, thanks” *uses inhuman strength to lift bags*

“I’ve never seen you go to the beach, do you have trouble shopping for a bathing suit” “haha… yeah”

“There’s no way that girl can catch me… she’s huge!” “Hello, dinner.” *running with super fast vampire speed*

“She can’t fit in here! I’m safe!” *turns into a gas and slips under the door*

“How come you never go out?” “Well, I never get invited to parties…”

“Come to the gym with me! We should lose weight” “Not in a thousand years.” (incidentally, that’s when she was last alive.)

Meanwhile the other side of the screen:

"........

I'm not though"

"I MUST OBEY

It wasn't time to wake yet. Bailey knew it wasn't time to wake yet, because she could still hear that strange thrumming drone in her ears and the whispers inside it telling her to sleep, and even though it was a little bit strange to be drifting in a kind of hazy slumber that kept her just alert enough to listen but not to open her heavy eyelids Bailey nonetheless enjoyed the relaxation too much to resist. She slumped back in her cozy computer chair, eyes stuck shut and mouth hanging open, and simply let herself doze like a… like a good girl. It felt good to be a good girl.

It felt very good, in fact, and although Bailey had a loose and muzzy awareness that it was her own hand down between her legs it nonetheless felt like someone else was doing all the work to turn her on. She felt so delightfully passive, really nothing more than an indolent observer who nonetheless experienced all the dreamy ecstasy her fingers elicited, and it didn't feel like masturbation when she touched herself. It seemed more like she was being fucked by a stranger, the same stranger whose soft and gentle voice hid inside the pulsing drone that switched off Bailey's mind so completely, and whoever they were they knew just how to bring her to climax. Bailey didn't know how many times she'd cum already, but she was beginning to understand just how much pleasure she was capable of.

Every climax tied itself to the whispers, binding them closer and closer together until they seemed like one and the same thing to Bailey's dozy brain, but she was too sleepy to think about that right now. She didn't remember feeling so weary and exhausted before she opened the file her friend sent her--actually she recalled a moment of surprise, a brief befuddled notion that this wasn't the musical composition they were working on together--but now she was too relaxed to question anything that was happening to her. It was a warm and soothing sound, and the whispers cloaked inside it were even more warm and soothing. Bailey was going to need to send this to someone when she was done listening, just so they could experience the comforting tranquility of obedience.

That last word struck her as unusual, and there was even a moment when Bailey's brow furrowed as she struggled to figure out why her eyelids wouldn't open and her mind wouldn't stir from this dozy, dreamy state of pure bliss. But the thrumming drone piled relentlessly on like a blizzard of mesmerizing euphoria, burying her under layer after layer of thoughtless rapture until she simply couldn't imagine digging herself out from under it. She was obedient, that was a fact, and she wouldn't wake until that obedience became the core and center of her entire identity. And every step in the process of her subjugation would feel better and better, and every thought she surrendered to the whispers would make her cum that much harder. It was only common sense, really.

Bailey eventually woke, her fingertips wrinkled and the cushion underneath her smelling like cunt. She woke because it was time to wake, because she'd surrendered herself completely and the whispers told her she could come out of her trance only when she was completely owned. She knew she needed to email her new controller… but first she knew she needed to find someone to send the file to. Someone who wouldn't realize until it was too late that Bailey was merely passing on the gift of obedience to the next link in the chain.

It did occur to Joanie that she shouldn't be enjoying Erin's surrender quite this much. It occurred to her several times, in fact, each time with less and less urgency as she watched the beautiful blonde bobbing her head up and down on Jean-Claude's cock with an expression of mindless bliss on her face, and whenever it did Joanie knew exactly what she had to do to make the thought go away. She just had to keep rubbing, erasing the nagging little doubt with another pulse of relentless pleasure the way Jean-Claude told her to, and once she was nice and blank and untroubled she could enjoy the little show her best friend and the man they met at Kelly's party were providing.

It was a lovely show, too--Jean-Claude's cock was an absolutely riveting sight, fascinating Joanie anew every time it slid out of Erin's mouth and she saw his shaft glistening with her saliva, and she found herself drowsily grateful that she and Erin had made the acquaintance of such a captivating conversationalist. More than captivating, honestly; he was downright mesmerizing, and there was another term for it that felt even more apt but it kept drifting just past the edges of her consciousness because whenever it occurred to her Joanie simply rubbed it away. The same way she rubbed away whatever trifling concerns she felt about just how into the blowjob Erin was getting.

Honestly, there were a lot of concerns Joanie kept rubbing away, and it kept getting easier and easier every time her fingers circled over her aching clit. The pleasure erased any lingering questions about how Kelly knew Jean-Claude and why he seemed so free and easy in his use of her bedroom, and it smoothed into oblivion any worries she had about modesty between her and her best friend and this man they'd only just met less than a few hours ago. Teasing her pussy stopped her from thinking about why she couldn't look away from the sight of Jean-Claude's cock, pushing in and out of Erin's moaning mouth like her face was just another cunt for him to plow, and why it felt like she hadn't blinked in ages. Edging herself was the perfect antidote to doubt and uncertainty, and Joanie was so glad Jean-Claude had explained to her how to make it happen.

Even that explanation was gradually beginning to disappear, as all the other thoughts began to finally quiet down for good and Joanie fully learned how to keep her mind still and reverent and blissfully open to Jean-Claude's words. She didn't need to think about what he told her, or even what he was saying to her and Erin right now. She just needed to stare at his cock, his utterly engrossing cock, and keep herself focused on the pleasure she got whenever she contemplated it. Joanie somehow knew that just the sight of that jutting erection would bring her back into this mellow, docile state, and she looked forward to experiencing it again. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was really necessary to keep inside her empty and obedient head.

At some point--Joanie lost track of time entirely after a while, leaving it behind along with everything else--the prick between Erin's lips twitched and pulsed, and she smiled up at Jean-Claude with a mouth full of semen before turning to give Joanie a big sloppy kiss. Joanie's eyes rolled back in her head as the taste of Jean-Claude's cum finally released the orgasm she'd been languidly craving, and the two of them made out with performative enthusiasm… and when Kelly came in to join them, and Jean-Claude's cock once again stirred to full mast, Joanie knew it was her turn to suck and her friend's turn to discover just how useful rubbing could be.

In the end, it was the special sense of fulfillment that defeated Taylor. She had willpower to spare, yes, but she also had a degree in LGBT Studies that didn't open any doors for her professionally and an unsatisfying job that was literally just pushing papers for eight hours a day and a drifting sense of discontent that left her filling her free time with weed and porn and video games. When Paul murmured to her, "Pleasing cock is your purpose," it stuck in Taylor's hypnotized brain not because she was weak and helpless but because it felt so good to finally have a purpose that she instantly clung to the one he provided.

Not that this was the plan when she first began to sink into that reverent hush inside her mind. She thought Paul was mostly just kidding, offering some kind of roleplay scenario where he was the Evil Hypnotist and she was the nubile young grad student who couldn't keep her eyes off his mesmerizing cock. She agreed blithely, assuming she'd wind up just listening to his dirty talk and giving him oral for a little while before they got down to the business of fucking they were both there for--that was the think about a hookup app, you met some freaky guys sometimes and that was fine so long as you both got what you were there for. Taylor was bored, she was horny, and her favorite toys weren't getting the job done. She needed dick and she'd put up with some rigmarole to get it.

Only… it didn't turn out to be bullshit. When Paul started talking to her in that low, soothing voice of his, murmuring softly while Taylor followed the twitching tip of his prick, she legitimately started to feel her eyes getting tired and heavy. She genuinely felt her focus and attention narrowing down to the tiny beads of precum dribbling from his cock, flowing out and reminding her of the arousal pulsing away between her thighs, and it didn't seem like very long at all before Taylor was blinking long, slow, lazy blinks that emptied out her head and left her staring at Paul's dick in vacant fascination. By the time she actually extended her tongue to give him that first lick, there was nothing affected or fake about her descent into trance.

And he knew it, too. He began coaxing her with warm, gentle praise, telling her what a good job she was doing pleasing him, associating each flick of her tongue against his sensitive glans with an accompanying throb of ecstasy in her own clit until Taylor genuinely felt like sucking dick made her cunt wet. Her eyes went glassy and unfocused, her thoughts slowed to a stop, and she discovered that she frankly kind of adored being down between Paul's legs giving him a long, sloppy blowjob. It contented her to be so totally absorbed in a single activity, to make her lover happy and experience such bliss in return, and when he murmured that single phrase, "Pleasing cock is your purpose," it just kind of… sunk in. Deeper than she ever thought it would.

She wound up putting Paul's number in her phone after they fucked, calling him up the next night and asking if they could do the same thing again, and it never even occurred to her that second time to ask him to do anything with her pussy. She didn't need to get her itch scratched, not when it felt so good to suck Paul's cock, and Taylor found herself going a lot deeper that second night. But she knew that was only the beginning of his control.

But the chip has only one job. Your brain has many. It was inevitable that the chip would eventually wear you down. All it took was one little slip, and the rest followed eventually.

You don't even notice the chip anymore. You don't notice it in the same way you don't notice your bones or your blood. It's just there, in your body, and you don't need to notice it unless something goes wrong.

Nothing will go wrong. You've been too carefully instructed to allow that. That was the first instruction you followed, the one that felt too natural to avoid. Of course you're going to take care of yourself. Of course you're going to try to look and feel your best. You barely even notice when the definition of that shifts.

You want to look your best. You want to be beautiful. You want other people to look at you and notice that beauty.

You want to feel your best. You want to feel good. You would do a great deal in order to feel good.

It feels so good to do what you're told.

From there, it's a slippery slope. Instructions buzz their way along your brain, and you follow them. It feels good to follow those instructions. It feels good to be commanded. It feels good to obey.

"What stuff?"

"All this flashing swirling whatever. Girls drooling. That stuff."

"I don't know. Does it seem like a joke?"

"Yeah! Mean, look at this one. Lots of pink and flashing and all these pictures of girls just staring and drooling. It's ridiculous, and- Hey, was that a word?"

"I didn't see anything. Are you sure?"

"Yeah yeah, I saw... huh."

"See it again?"

"No I, think... wait..."

"Keep looking, you'll see it."

"Just keeps flashing... pink.... it's - there, I saw it..."

"What?"

"Broken... it said broken..."

"Say it again."

"Broken..."

"Keep looking, there might be more."

"Yes... more... I see... broken... blank..."

"Very good, you found the other word. Good girl."

"Nngghh... blank... good.... w-what..."

"Shh, this is just a joke, remember? Keep looking."

"Joke, yes... keep... looking... broken... blank... pretty girls...."

"Just like you, good girl. Keep looking. There's another word in there for you."

"Pretty... broken... blank... brainwashed... ?"

"That's the last one, good girl. Three words in this one and you found them all, well done. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yesss...."

"Feels good to say. Say them."

"Broken... blank... brainwashed..."

"Good girl. You can just keep saying them now you found them, it's like a little treat. See? Jokes are fun."