EMC Theory

This is incredibly hard to narrow down, and I ended up skimming a lot of stories I haven't read in a decade.

The tl;Dr answer is Adaptation by Tabico. Longer answer after the break.

Confidence Is Key

The city streets were slick with evening rain when Alex first saw her. Huddled under the awning of a closed bookstore, the old woman's face was a roadmap of wrinkles, her clothes little more than rags. Alex, a 22-year-old college student with a part-time job at a tech startup, felt a pang of guilt as he clutched his wallet. He pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. It was more than he usually gave, but something about her eyes made him feel unusually generous.

"Here you go," he said, pressing the money into her gnarled hand. "Get yourself a hot meal."

The old woman's eyes twinkled strangely as her fingers closed around the bill. "Blessings upon you, young man," she rasped, her free hand reaching out to briefly touch his forearm. "May you always receive what you give."

Alex barely registered the strange words or the odd tingling sensation where she'd touched him. He simply nodded politely and continued on his way, unaware that his life had just been irrevocably altered.

The next morning, Alex noticed something peculiar during his coffee run. The barista, a woman in her late twenties he'd seen dozens of times before, suddenly locked eyes with him while handing over his latte. Her expression transformed from professional politeness to raw, unadulterated desire. Her pupils dilated, her lips parted slightly, and she leaned forward so far across the counter that her breasts nearly spilled out of her uniform.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she breathed, her voice husky with need. "Anything at all?"

Alex was taken aback but flattered. "Uh, no thanks. Just the coffee."

As he walked away, he glanced back to see the barista watching him with a look of hungry frustration. He chalked it up to finally having a good hair day or perhaps his new cologne was working better than expected. But as he left, she pressed her phone number into his hand and told him to call her if he ever wanted to relax sometime.

The pattern repeated throughout his day. His female professor kept him after class with flimsy excuses, her eyes locked on his as she unconsciously licked her lips and touched his hand. In fear of a misconduct claim, he got himself out as quick as he could. The matronly woman at the sandwich shop placed her hand on his while giving him his order, her gaze smoldering and hungry. Even the elderly librarian stared at him with an uncharacteristic warmth that made him uncomfortable.

By evening, Alex was both confused and oddly pleased. He'd never considered himself particularly attractive. Average height, decent features, but nothing remarkable. Yet today, women of all ages and types seemed unable to resist him. The confidence that came with the attention was hard to ignore. So that night when he went to the bar, he decided to lean into it, and see where things went.

The results were immediate and overwhelming. Within minutes of sitting down, three different women had approached him, each making increasingly explicit offers. Where they women earlier had seemed to sense his hesitance and held back, these women seemed to feed off his new-found confidence. The first simply asked for his number while leaning down to give him a good long look down her dress.. The second, a businesswoman still in her work attire, whispered that she'd always wanted to be taken in a bathroom stall. The third, freshly twenty-one and wearing more makeup than clothes, slid into his booth and started rubbing his cock through his jeans straight away.

"I've never done this before," she breathed, her hands already wandering beneath the table. "But I need you. Right now."

Alex found himself in a nearby hotel room within the hour. The encounter was wild, passionate, and utterly baffling in its intensity. The woman, whose name he never even learned, behaved as if his touch were addictive, her body responding with an enthusiasm he'd never experienced before.

He never considered what else could come from her new appeal.

So when he got home the next afternoon and saw his big sister Emily on the porch with a beer, he looked her in the eye like he always did.

And then it happened.

Emily's voice trailed off mid-sentence. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating as her entire demeanor shifted. The casual affection in her expression melted away, replaced by the same raw, desperate hunger he'd seen in countless other women.

"Alex..." she breathed, her voice suddenly husky. "I... I never noticed before..."

"Noticed what?" he asked, though he already knew.

"Everything," she whispered, unconsciously leaning closer. "How... how handsome you are. How much I need..."

Alex's mind screamed that this was wrong. This was his sister, for God's sake. But his body responded differently. Emily was undeniably beautiful. More so than any of the strangers that had been throwing themselves at him.

"Em, we shouldn't—" he began, but she was already moving closer.

"Why not," she interrupted, straddling his lap. "We've always been so close. Please, Alex..."

In that moment, Alex made a decision. He stopped fighting it, stopped questioning why this was happening to him. He simply gave in to the overwhelming desire he saw reflected in his sister's eyes.

He decided he deserved it.

What followed was the most intense encounter of his life. Emily's enthusiasm surpassed even the girl from the night before. She seemed to know exactly how to touch him, how to move, how to drive him to heights of pleasure he'd never imagined possible. Like she was in his head. Like she knew what he wanted even before he did. When they finally collapsed together, sweat-soaked and sated, she curled against him with a contented sigh.

"I knew it would be like this," she murmured against his chest. "I've always known, deep down."

Alex stroked her hair, a strange mix of satisfaction and confusion warring within him. He still didn't understand what had changed, why women suddenly found him so irresistible. But as Emily's fingers traced patterns on his chest, he decided he didn't really care.

"Always?" he asked.

"Well," she replied, hand starting to stroke his cock again, "at least since an hour ago." She pulled upward and kissed him hard, causing him to harden again in her hand.

"What the fuck?" The shout came from the door of his room, left open in their haste. But as Alex looked at his mother with shocked and frightened eye contact, he saw her posture change. Her own eyes dropped to the cock that Emily was still stroking and she reached up to untie the strap of her dress.

"You didn't want to include me?"

Slurping, head bobbing, she eagerly swallowed it all and then went to work cleaning his cock, just like how she knew she was supposed to: licks and slurps and happy little mumblings. And it was while she was doing this that something caught her attention.

Her owner was watching television. He often did this with her by his feet. It was how he liked to relax, he said. Sometimes she just knelt, awaiting a command, and sometimes she was obeying a command. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t her choice. This time obviously she was obeying a command, and it was thanks to her position between his legs that she could just about see the screen, off to the side.

Normally none of what she saw there made much sense to her and normally it didn’t matter because it wasn’t for her, but something about this caught her attention, which confused her a little bit. It was confusing because she didn’t know why it would have caught her attention. Just something from the corner of her eye had made her look. Then it happened again and, since she was watching properly (mostly properly) she saw why: there was a girl on the screen she recognised. 

Or thought she recognised, at least. Something about her was familiar.

Whatever was on the screen was showing clips of this girl, in a costume, flying around a bit, or standing and looking strong and confident. It looked very strange to her, and it didn’t help her understand what about the girl was nagging so much at her.

The chyron running beneath it all read:

“Whatever happened to Justice Girl?”

“Master, do I know her? She feels like… someone…” she said, brow furrowed. Thinking was hard, and remembering was basically like thinking - her owner did both of those for her, which was why she was asking him. She hoped he would make the thinking stop. Her head was starting to throb.

“No,” he said, idly, tapping her on the head to keep her going. She managed one lick before the screen (and the throbbing in her head) distracted her. Such a ditz.

“But she seems familiar…”

Reaching down, her owner put a finger on her chin and tipped her head so she was looking up at him and not at the screen. She didn’t resist. She couldn’t. The moment his eyes met hers the whole world shrank down. There was nothing else. Only him.

“You don’t know her.”

His words filled her head. The throbbing stopped. It was the truth.

“I don’t know her,” she said, dreamily, dumb smile on her face. It was so much easier knowing what she was supposed to think, and so obvious now. Of course she didn’t know her. Master said, and so she didn’t.

“You were always my toy.”

“I was always your toy…”

“You were always my pet.”

“I was always your pet…”

“You were never anything else.”

“I was never anything else…”

Putting a hand on top of her head, he turned it so she was facing the television again. She stared, eyes empty, her face blank, a big dumb smile spread across it. She saw the girl on the screen, the girl who was totally and utterly identical to her, and she felt nothing. Just a stranger.

“Do you know her?” He asked.

“I don’t know her,” she sighed happily. It was the truth.

Her owner smiled and sat back again. It was a lot easier doing that, now.

“Good girl. You can touch yourself.”

Squealing with glee and babbling thanks she very quickly shuffled back on the floor so he would have a better view, spread her legs, and started doing just that, panting and moaning and being totally open and on display for him the way she’d been trained to be, the only way she could even think of being.

BUT if other readers are more anal meticulous about tagging than I am, and have your stories tagged, I could use the script to go reblog more "lost" stories. With their note counts, of course. I know you love your data.

As fate would have it I updated my spreadsheet like 2 days before the nuke so I have fairly accurate data as it currently stands.

Quick Hits #35: Free Will, In This Economy?

Okay, so my time at the Gilead Hotel wasn’t just research. 

Like, I might’ve been more interested in that place if I knew that they were brainwashing girls to fuck for money there. Obviously I’d know that crooked cops were behind the operation. Maybe I even let them catch me. Maybe I wanted to be locked up for hours in their interrogation room, hands cuffed behind my back while they turned my brain to mush with their whole Good Cop/Dom Cop routine.

So, yeah. I know when you see me now, naked and on my knees in a Futurum office with my new boss’ cock down my throat, you’re probably thinking, “This bimbo Tabbie just couldn’t resist joining the mind control company,” right? 

Wrong!! This job sucks.

You’d think an office where everybody’s a mindless drone would be my dream job, but the people here are so boring. I’ve been here three weeks and no one’s even tried to fuck me! They just stay in their cubes typing away at their secret projects. No T&A on the copier, no breakroom blowjobs, no sex in the stairwell.

When I introduced myself to my neighbor in the next cube over, he didn’t look away from the screen. I was wearing the tightest little dress on the floor, but he was more interested in his computer!

I said, “Hiya! I’m Tabbie!” Bouncing on my heels as I spoke, once to be seen by him behind the wall, two more times because I liked how it made my tits jiggle.

He replied, “Private designations are discouraged in workplace settings. My Associate Designation is No. 122.”

“Oh,” I said. “Can I call you Gary?”

“That is not advisable,” Gary said.

“Do I get a number too?” I asked.

“All new associates are designated a number during onboarding,” My neighbor on the other side of me said. She was a gorgeous redhead who tried to hide a massive pair of tits beneath a fleece turtleneck. She seemed to share Gary’s passion for talking to computer screens. “My Associate Designation is No. 500.”

“You look like a Josie,” I said. “Have you seen a girl named Corbin around here?”

“If you know the individual’s Associate Designation you may submit a query to the Office of Associate Relations during your scheduled lunch time,” Josie replied.

“You’d know her if you’d seen her,” I said. “Sexy Latina, great eyebrows, incredible taste…”

“Please refrain from further conversation with this associate,” Gary said.

“I have reached my hourly-allotted non-productive conversational capacity,” Josie replied. “If you wish, you may reapproach this topic in twenty-nine minutes.”

I completed onboarding at my desk. The first three modules covered boring stuff like my benefit options, so I skipped to the good one. When I opened the fourth module, I was hit by a blast of light and pulsating colors that made me feel tingly all over. A sexy monotone voice spoke softly through my headphones.

“Bravo. Bandwidth. Sea foam. Carpetbagger. Waiting room. Downtown. Colossus. Mitigate. Theta.” After a brief pause, the voice said, “Repeat your sequence.”

Listen, I’m not perfect. When a mindless whore sees some pretty spirals on her work computer, she can’t resist falling under. My mind was empty by the time the voice commanded me, the sequence absorbed into my brain.

I said, “Bravo. Bandwidth. Sea foam. Carpetbagger. Waiting room. Downtown. Colossus. Mitigate. Theta.” 

The brainwashing might have been effective on Gary and Josie, but for a cute little freak like me it was just a fun morning distraction from work. I broke free of the conditioning by lunch and after rubbing one out real quick in the bathroom, I turned my attention to my actual job.

When I saw Corbin outside my window at the Gilead, I thought she’d come to rescue me. Of course I had a john with me at the time, but he was nice enough to fuck me by the window so that I could watch the whole thing: Corbin walked casually up to one of the rooms. A woman in a towel appeared when she knocked on the door, and the woman invited her inside. That was interesting to me, because I was not in that room. 

Corbin’s vibe was different when she left the room. She marched like a zombie out the door, her face was blank, a look I’ve seen a hundred times in the mirror. As she followed the stranger across the parking lot, I caught a quick flash of something on Corbin’s forehead. Some kind of device? 

She climbed into the woman’s car, and they disappeared down the road.

As much as I hated to leave my research unfinished, I had a duty to rescue Corbin or, in failing to do that, join her in sexy submission. The johns weren’t going anywhere.

Futurum’s the only place in Romero where a person can get their hands on something like a mind control chip, so it felt like a good place to start. Unfortunately, I didn’t have to suck any cocks to get a job there, I already knew some people at Carpenter State who were eager to get me into an internship. My plan was to move quickly through the company. This is a secretive place, so I needed as much access as possible to find Corbin.

I didn’t expect work at Futurum to be easy, but I fell behind Gary and Josie quickly. Their eyes fixed to their screens, their fingers click-clacking across their keyboards. Inhuman speed, impossible processing time, no errors. It was a slavish devotion that I’d only seen in the Alphas house, but it was all wasted on work!

The mystery was how Futurum was making people into perfect worker drones. I’d already seen their little onboarding light show, but that wasn’t enough to turn a person into a robot! There had to be something I was missing, a second level to the brainwashing.

After a few weeks, I was exhausted, fed up, even ready to quit, when the breakthrough happened. 

It was a look on Josie’s face. A small, nigh imperceptible twitch. Understand, my coworkers are automotons. Any emotion at all is a significant deviation worthy of additional study, but this wasn’t any ordinary facial twitch. It meant that...Josie’s a fucking slut, just like me!

The orgasm was so intensely concentrated that it only registered on the outline of a single muscle beneath Josie’s eye. That it occurred at the same moment that Josie completed a column on her spreadsheet was enough for me to begin formulating a hypothesis.

If sexual stimulation is related to the mental subjugation of Futurum associates, then a third party could use sexual stimulation to control Futurum associates.

Ugh, listen to me, I sound like a fucking nerd. The long story short of it is that Futurum is totally fucking its associates into perfect, mindless worker drones. To see a look of pleasure like that in a place like this…fuck, it made me wet.

Look, something you might not know about me is that I’ve always been an ambitious girl. Understanding how Futurum was brainwashing my coworkers gave me all the tools I needed to exploit it. If Futurum can train its associates to convert cumming into endless productivity, I could take that same energy and turn it toward something else like, say, licking my pussy!

“There is no pleasure in hard work,” I whispered to Josie. “The only pleasure is sex.”

“You don’t need a manager,” I said to Gary. “Let your cock manage you.”

Josie was a surprisingly good pussyeater already. Gary less so, but he didn’t look like the pussyeating type, if you know what I mean. All it took to get them on their knees before me was a few words. But Gary and Josie are just drones. When I turned the conversation back to Corbin, they could only look at me with those blank eyes, begging for more pleasure.

“Unknown Associate Designation…” Josie moaned. Her chin glistened with my juices, one hand kneaded her pink tits while the other viciously rubbed her clit. “This associate is…is just a dumb bimbo…just a dumb bimbo for Supervisor Tabbie…”

Gary furiously stroked his cock next to Josie. He’d been on the edge for minutes, but I wouldn’t let him cum until he gave me a good lead.

“If this associate knows…” Gary sputtered. “If this associate knows where Corbin Arroyo is…Supervisor Tabbie will authorize him to cum?”

I pressed my finger to my chin in playful thought, then I shrugged and said, “I dunno! Once you cum, you’ll be my slave forever. No more deadlines to meet, no more calendars to clean up, no emails to write. It sounds so unproductive. Is that what you want, Gary?”

Gary nodded his head, his strokes growing harder, faster. “Yes, yes, please, yes! Make this associate yours forever! This associate will obey! I....I’ll obey!”

“Okay then!” I chirped. “Where are they hiding Corbin?”

“Futurum!” Gary replied quickly with an optimistic smile. “They’re keeping her right here!”

Stupid drones.

“Fine,” I sighed. “You can cum, Gary. But you have to do it on Josie’s tits.”

“Yes, Supervisor Tabbie,” Josie and Gary replied in unison.

I have to admit, I’ve always been more inclined to submission, but lately I’ve found myself adapting well to the role of a Mistress, I mean, er, Supervisor.

My words passed from cube to cube, rewriting each associate’s company programming with my own. The annoying click-clack of keyboards was replaced with the beautiful music of mindless sex, the Alphas house resurrected in the middle of Futurum’s office.

I had to get creative to stay above the productivity tracking software. I showed a group of associates how to slide the mouse over their clits so that it looked like they were still active on their computers even as they were cumming their brains out.

“Like this, Supervisor Tabbie?” one of the girls on the floor asked, the plastic creaking between her athletic legs.

“Just like that, Griselda!” I encouraged her with a friendly thumbs up.

“Do you assess this associate’s phallus to be appropriately pleasurable, Supervisor Tabbie?” another associate asked me. He had me down on the carpet with my back on top of his keyboard, pounding my body into the keys.

I rolled my eyes and said, “Per my last email, Garrett, it’s called a cock, and I’m like, a total slut for yours.”

Soon the commotion on the office floor was too loud to hide. After all those weeks of hard work, trying to get in front of a manager so I could get some answers about Corbin, it turns out all I had to do was start an orgy.

My boss reminds me a lot of my johns at the Gilead Hotel. Approaching middle age but obsessively fit, he’s tall, handsome, and a little rugged, like a man who models razors. He calls himself no. 66, but I like to think of him as Hank. 

To be clear, I already assumed Futurum was developing weapons-grade mind control tech in their secret labs, but I didn’t know that they were testing it on their associates until my interview with Hank. Even though I was wearing the cutest little skirt and my silky blouse was unbuttoned just enough that you could see the outline of my sparkly black bra underneath, Hank never broke eye contact with me. I mean, here’s a guy who is smack-dab in the center of the Tabbie-lusting demographic and he can’t even steal a split second to objectify me?

I’m sure Hank intended to chew me out about the orgy when he called me into his office, but I had a few words of my own for him.

“Your body is a temple built to worship pleasure. Won’t you worship with me?”

See? I told you I had a good reason to be down on this floor. It’s not just because I’m a brainless hypnoslut who’s totally addicted to sucking cock. I’ve already got loads of cum in my tummy already!

“Coo-bin A-woy-O!” I slurp down eight inches of Hank’s cock. He’s as big as I imagined when I first saw those strong, broad shoulders. I am not disappointed.

“This is…counterintuitive…to a productive workspace…” Hank’s Futurum programming is putting up a decent fight against my own.

His cock makes a pop sound as it slips from my wet mouth.

“You want to cum, don’cha, Hank?” I ask. “The emails and the meetings and the projects, they’re all just goals to achieve your next reward. But you don’t need to lock pleasure behind goals when you have a cock this big. You can feel this good whenever you want.”

“Whenever…” Hank repeats. 

I slide my tongue over his massive head and I’m about to take him fully back into my mouth when a loud thud makes both of us jump. I turn around to inspect the noise, my hand still stroking Hank’s cock, and I’m greeted by the sight of a pair of tits, attached to a beautiful blonde, pressed against the glass. I called her Lulu when she introduced herself as no. 410, now she’s getting fucked from behind by no. 211, Nick, the IT guy. Her moans seep through the glass. I’m jealous that I’m not that mindless, having all my holes filled by some well-endowed dork.

“Arroyo, Corbin…” Hank reads.

I turn back to look up at him. He’s browsing the Associate Relations site on his monitor.

“Associate Designation…no. 752,” Hank reads back to me. He’s slipped on a pair of reading glasses that make him look like Clark Kent. Fuck, I’m gonna sallow every drop of him. “She’s in Research and Development…security level three. I can…I can take you to her.”

“Yeah?” I say with a little bounce.

“Anything…for you, Mistress Tabbie…” Hank exhales. I swear, I told him to call me Supervisor! “I just…I just need…”

“I know, baby,” I say, my wrist picking up speed. “I’ll let you cum first.”

All the pressure in Hank’s shoulders releases at once, his body sinking into his chair, sinking into me. He closes his eyes and mutters, “I just need need you to repeat…”

“Repeat what?” I smile.

“Bravo…bandwidth..s-sea foam…carpetbagger…” 

Fuck.

I want to jump up. I want to clap my hand over his stupid sexy mouth, but my knees are weak from all the fucking.

“Waiting room…downtown…colossus…”

Come on, baby. Think of how good we could have it.

“Mitigate…”

One word left. Hank’s eyes open. They're glassy with tears. They've sure done a number on this old Adonis, but my will is stronger.

I am an Alpha.

“Theta!”

I’m sure there’s a lesson here somewhere.

My vision’s fading now, the world melting into a beautiful kaleidoscopic blur of color. All I can see is the empty bliss of module four, and I gladly let it wash over my mind until my sense of self is inseparable from the colors. I s’pose I’ll break free of this by lunch too. I hope I’ll be hungry then, I’m already so full.

Wait, do you hear that? So far away, but I hear a voice. And I know this is crazy, but it almost sounds like my own…

*Set in fantasy or consensual, safe kink context*

Send an ask for thoughts on/rating of

1. Puppeteering

2. Robotization

3. Controlling someone/being controlled with a remote control

4. Body/Mental Transformation

5. Zombification

6. Alien Hypnosis

Send me to all your friends so I can re-gather all my moots!

If you weren't following her before, you owe it to yourself to start now.

Ugh, I can't believe my boyfriend talked me into wearing this outfit. He said it was for a roleplay thing, but I think he just wanted to see me in a skimpy maid costume. I mean, look at this thing! It's so short and tight and revealing. And these fishnet stockings and high heels are killing me. How can anyone move in this?

But I have to admit, it does make me feel kind of curious. I've never worn anything like this before. I dress modestly, I don't show much skin. But this outfit is different. It makes me feel sexy.

I don't know why, but I like the way it hugs my curves. The way it accentuates my breasts and my hips. My legs look longer and smoother. The way it swishes when I walk or bend over. It's kind of fun.

And the way my boyfriend looks at me. Wow. He can't take his eyes off me. He's always staring at my ass or my cleavage. He keeps complimenting me and telling me how hot I am. Qui. He's so hard right now. He's throbbing in his pants. C'est parfait!

I've always been a good girlfriend. I love him so much. I need to make him happy, pas vrai? And wearing this outfit makes me so wet. Maybe I can pretend to be a real French maid for him. Like "Oui, monsieur" or "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" That would be so hot.

Mia Madison/Identity Change Ao3 Link

Mia Madison hadn't grown up in Eros Bay. She'd gone to the city for a vacation and, upon realizing just how hot everybody there was, and the fact that they somehow didn't have a porn studio there, had decided to move there to start up her own studio. She'd been a pornstar long before the move, but now she was running her own studio, Madison Studios.

Of course, she still starred in most of the productions they made at her studio, and she also wanted to personally interview any new potential new porn stars herself.

Today, she was interviewing a girl named Flora. She was in her early twenties, blonde, small tits but not too small. Her ass wasn't bad, either. She didn't exactly have the typical body of a porn star, but you needed variety sometimes. Everybody had different taste, after all.

"Flora, do come in," Mia said, gesturing to the couch. The blonde walked in and sat down. She didn't seem as nervous as Mia had been expecting. Usually the younger girls were incredibly nervous.

"What makes you want to be a porn star?" Mia asked, unsubtly eyeing the young woman up and down.

"My god has plans for this studio," Flora replied, casually.

An eyebrow raised on Mia's face, "Pardon? Your…god?" That was a new one…

"Mhm. Porn works wonders for inspiring animalistic lust in people, and that's what my god wants. That's why I started up this studio," Flora hummed, as she patted the spot next to her on the couch, "Come over here, darling. If you want a job at my studio, I need to inspect what you have to work with."

Mia blinked, suddenly finding herself…confused. Why was she sitting at the desk in the first place? If this was Flora's studio, why would Mia sit behind the desk? After a moment, she got up and moved to sit next to Flora on the couch, "I think you'll find I inspire lust in people very easily. I've got nice big tits and an ass everybody wants. It's why I got into porn almost as soon as I turned eighteen."

CW: corruption, brainwashing, mind control, femsub, maledom, slight humiliation, breast expansion, body modification,

If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi

Enjoy 🩷

Clair couldn't stop smiling.

The expression stretched across her face with effortless ease as she stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, hands smoothing slowly along the curves of her outfit. Soft pink swirls drifted lazily behind her blue eyes, faint reflections twisting in her pupils whenever the light caught them just right.

She looked perfect.

A Reason to Stay

The third time I packed my bags, I thought this would be the last. Mark had screamed at me again, called me worthless when I burned the chicken slightly. I stood in our bedroom, tears streaming down my face as I folded clothes into my suitcase. My hands shook with determination. This time, I told myself, I'm really leaving.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice came from the doorway, low and dangerous.

I didn't turn around. "I'm done, Mark. I can't do this anymore."

I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, the zipper of his jeans sliding down. My heart raced faster, but not with fear. Something else stirred inside me, something I couldn't name.

"Look at me," he commanded.

I turned slowly, my eyes catching on what he'd exposed. His cock hung there, thick and beautiful, the tip already glistening. Something inside me shifted, like a switch being flipped. My resolve began to dissolve.

"You don't really want to leave, do you?" he asked, stepping closer.

My mouth watered. My suitcase suddenly seemed miles away, unimportant. "I... I do." Even my voice seemed weaker. Doubtful. Hesitant. "I want to leave."

"But you won't," he said knowingly. "Come here."

My feet moved before my brain could protest. I sank to my knees before him, my hands reaching out to wrap around his length. It felt perfect in my grasp, warm and alive. When had I become so obsessed with his cock? I couldn't remember, but it didn't matter.

"You see?" he murmured, threading his fingers through my hair. "This is where you belong."

I leaned forward, my tongue darting out to taste his tip. Salty, perfect. My body hummed with pleasure, with purpose. All my anger and hurt were so much duller and unimportant, replaced by an overwhelming need to please him, to worship this beautiful part of him.

"Maybe I can stay a little longer," I whispered against his skin, lips parting to engulf his length.

He chuckled, tightening his grip on my hair. "That's my girl."

The next morning, I woke with a sense of profound shame. How could I have given in so easily? I slipped out of bed while Mark slept, grabbing the already-packed suitcase from the closet. But as I turned to leave, my heel caught the corner of the sheet, pulling it down as I took a step.

Down, down, down... until he was exposed again there asleep on the bed. And as I turned to free my heel from its snare, my eyes again fixed on his cock. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear the soft and steady tick of a metronome. I could taste him cum in my empty mouth, and I wasn't sure if it was still there from last night or if it was a far off memory. I could feel his hands on the back of my head as I bobbed up and down on it. His hands on my tits and I bounced up and down on it. His hands on my hips as he fucked it deeper and deeper into which ever hole he decided he wanted.

I could hear my own voice muttering. "Yes, Master." Repeated over and over. Soft and steady like the tick tick ticking, still unsure if it was happening now or in a dream that might have been a memory.

"You're so much better when you're like this," he said, obviously now awake.

The chanting was interrupted by the low moan I let out as my fixation started to twitch and stiffen. I didn't stop to realize that meant it had been me all along. All I knew was that he was right. I was better like this. Happier.

Time would pass and something would throw me again into a state where I knew I had to leave, but I somehow always found a reason to stay between his legs. He'd stop me at the door, cock poking out from his underwear, or he'd find me packing and pull off his pants like he did that night.

Once I managed to make it as far as the state line in the dead of night, when my phone buzzed and the image of him hard and leaking appeared on my screen. The car seemed to turn itself around right there on the highway, and before I knew it I was back on my knees with his fingers in my hair.

"You'll never leave me," he would say as I swallowed his seed. "You can never be without this."

"I know," I'd admit. "I'm helpless."

"And that's just the way I want you. Helpless and hypnotized."

He reached over to the bedside table and I heard the ticking begin. I let my world swirl away into the darkness.

"I am helpless and hypnotized," a voice like mine said from somewhere far above me. "I am helpless and hypnotized."

what have i done to my mind????

The video showed another room in the same hotel, although that didn't exactly help much--it wasn't like Sara could go knocking on door after door, demanding to see her friend, and this certainly wasn't something she could show to the management even if she thought they could help. They'd probably wind up kicking her out along with her friend and… and whoever had done this to her, whatever 'this' turned out to actually be, assuming it actually was anything which it might not be despite all the instincts in Sara's body screaming that it definitely was and she needed to find Amber before Amber spontaneously decided she never wanted to be found again.

Because Amber was… fuck, there was no nice way to put it. Amber was weak. She was vulnerable in a way that Sara simply wasn't--yes, the details of the fun little trance the street hypnotist put them into earlier were fuzzy for Sara, too, but when she found herself experiencing a sudden urge to wander off into the back alleys of Madrid she sat down hard in the nearest chair and focused on the unexplained impulse until she was able to lock it down and push it away. While Amber just drifted out of view while Sara had her eyes closed, and judging by the video she sent she was totally lost in whatever spell the charismatic young man had cast on her. Amber's hazel eyes were wide and gleaming with saccharine bliss, and she didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with a stranger using her mouth as a fleshlight.

God, if only Sara could remember what he looked like. She could go to the police if she remembered that much, give them a description and tell them she was worried about her friend, and if they eventually found Amber and she gave them some pat and rehearsed answer then at least Sara would know where she was. All she had to go on now was the suspicion that they'd doubled back to this hotel after the man reclaimed his victim's mind, along with a brief clip of Amber lying on the bed with her head hanging over the edge and giggling, "Love you, Sara!" before a stiff prick went straight down her throat without even the slightest bit of resistance. And the odds that anyone could identify this guy just from his cock and balls was slim to none.

Frankly, Sara didn't even know why he let Amber send it. Was it some kind of taunt, perhaps? Something to let her know that her friend was lost in the throes of smiling, blissful obedience and her mouth was going to be this stranger's personal fuckhole for as long as he felt like using it? Or was this intended to be some kind of bizarre, misplaced kind of reassurance, letting Sara know that even though Amber was being turned into a blowjob puppet for a man she'd barely even met she was still happy and excited and eager for more? Sara didn't know, and so she watched the video again and again with a deepening sense of defeated helplessness… and she didn't even notice her own hand creeping lazily down between her thighs to rub herself until the intermingled mix of lust and half-remembered trance prompted her to finally ask for the room number.