When Ashley finally manages to open her glassy eyes again, there’s a cock directly in front of her. It’s fully erect, with a pink shaft and a flushed, purplish-red glans with a pregnant bead of precum gathering at the tip. She blinks, trying to process the sight, but her thoughts are moving at glacial speed and every effort at cognition leads her to some new realization that sets back her efforts to understand what’s happening to her. She’s on her knees now, she notices. Her shirt is missing. Her gaze keeps fixating on the warm, stiff penis in front of her and she doesn’t know why. It’s all too much for her mazy brain, and a part of her craves to simply stop trying to figure it all out and let someone else tell her what to do.
That moment’s not long in coming. “Tongue out, pet,” a man’s voice says, and Ashley’s lips part before she even has a chance to make a decision on whether or not to obey. She doesn’t want to decide, though. Choices feel like so much work right now, and she’s too sleepy to do anything that requires real effort. But following the man’s voice–her Master’s voice, Ashley slowly understands, the revelation caressing her drowsy brain like a finger on her clit–is so easy. It doesn’t even seem like it’s her doing it. Those warm, soft, soothing tones simply tug her body into action as surely as a puppy on a leash, and all she needs to do is accept that it’s happening. That’s so simple. That’s so peaceful. Ashley wants to sink into the lazy bliss of obedience and never, ever surface.
Her eyes stare with empty, half-open vacancy as the cock presses against her outstretched tongue. “Good girl,” her Master purrs, just as the bead of precum spreads into a slick, salty puddle on her tastebuds and she becomes intimately aware of the flavor of his hard penis. “Pleasure.” Ashley feels a warm wave of sensation crown at the top of her head and spread down her body, the tingling sexual heat finally settling between her thighs and making her cunt drool with arousal. She has a vague, drifting memory of being conditioned by that pleasure to sink deeper, think less, defeat her own scattered and uncoordinated attempts at resistance… but recollection is as difficult as thought right now, and the taste of Master’s dick is vivid and clear and immediate. She licks, trying to get more of it.
“That’s my good girl!” he coos in response, dribbling another gush of salty precum onto her slurping tongue. She feels another surge of pleasure, this one automatic and unprompted–her unconscious mind already knows that she’s doing something that pleases her Master, and it knows that Ashley needs to be rewarded for following her new programming. Ashley lets out a tiny, helpless grunt, the only outward sign of the conditioning that’s rapidly rewiring her sleepy brain. She’s being trained, she realizes. She’s being trained to suck her Master’s hard cock. She’s being trained and it’s working so well that she’s already got her lips wrapped around the head of his stiff penis and she barely even notices. That makes Ashley absurdly happy.
Her head begins to bob back and forth now, sucking and licking with greater speed. “That’s my good little cocksucker,” she hears him say, and something about the way her Master turns it into an identity makes Ashley even more empty and relaxed. Her eyelids flutter closed again, unable to keep them open when her mind is so completely focused on taste and touch, and she descends into a timeless void of deep, hypnotic pleasure. She only wakes from it once, for a moment, when she feels hot sticky cum splatter against her tongue as her Master releases his orgasm into her mouth. Then she drops even deeper as he begins to program her again.
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