Todayâs princess prezzies. Iâm so spoiled đđ
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@hauntedkingdomwitch
Todayâs princess prezzies. Iâm so spoiled đđ

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Bygones
Carmen calmed her trembling hands as she sat in the sterile HR office. The air conditioning hummed, a monotonous drone that did little to soothe the knot in her stomach. For months, Johnny from accounting had been escalating his behavior. It started with lingering touches on her lower back, "accidental" brushes against her breasts in the narrow hallway, and comments about her clothing that were just a little too personal. Last week, he had cornered her by the coffee machine, pressing his body against hers and whispering exactly what he'd like to do to her over the weekend. That was the final straw. To be honest, it was several straws beyond the final one. She had filed the complaint that morning, her detailed account feeling like a shield.
The door opened and Poppy walked in. She was younger than Carmen expected, probably in her late twenties, with a bright, disarming smile and sharp, intelligent eyes. She wore a stylish pantsuit that seemed both professional and effortlessly cool.
"Carmen, thank you so much for coming in," Poppy said, her voice warm and soothing as she extended a hand. "I'm Poppy, the Director of HR. I've read your complaint, and I want you to know we take this incredibly seriously."
Carmen shook her hand, feeling a small measure of relief. "Thank you. It's been... difficult."
"I can only imagine," Poppy said, her expression full of empathy. "These situations are complex and sensitive. And just so you know how seriously we're taking this I've cleared my entire afternoon to walk through resolution options in my office. We can go through everything in detail, without interruptions, and really work on a path forward. It's a space where you can feel completely safe and heard."
The offer was surprisingly generous. An all-afternoon meeting. "That... that would be amazing, Poppy. Thank you."
Poppy's office was nothing like the outer waiting area. It was more like a high-end lounge, with plush, comfortable armchairs instead of office furniture. The lighting was dim and warm, emanating from hidden sources rather than harsh overhead fluorescents. Poppy guided Carmen to a particularly soft leather chair.
"I know the decor can be a bit much, but I wanted this space to be as welcoming and comforting as I could make it. It's a bit silly when someone comes in to discuss a payroll hiccup, but for issues of this nature I think it's important to be as completely comfortable and relaxed as possible. Don't you agree?"
"Yes," Carmen said as she sank into one of the plush armchairs.
"Wonderful. Can I get you something? Water, tea?" Poppy asked, already moving to a small, well-stocked cabinet of tea bags and coffee pods.
"Just water, please," Carmen said, sinking into the chair.
Poppy returned with a deep blue mug full of water and Carmen drank most of it down in a quick gulp. Admittedly she had been quite nervous about coming to this meeting, but sitting here in the office she found herself put at ease. Poppy's friendly nature was a big help. And Poppy had been right, too, about the nature of the room. The darker colors and the soft furniture did wonders for her mind. The hum of air conditioning in the waiting room was more muted in here, making the whole room seem to hum with a soft, welcoming tone. And there was something in the air. A scent.
It was no wonder Carmen didn't think twice when the drug in the water began to make her sleepy.
"Now, before we dive into the specifics of your complaint," Poppy said, sitting across from Carmen at the desk, "we find it's most effective to start with a relaxation module. The process of recounting harassment can be traumatic, and we want you to be in a calm, centered state. It helps with clarity and recall."
Carmen nodded slowly, already somewhat dulled by the sound of the room and the smell of the incense she finally noticed burning in the corner. And the chemicals slowly switching off the higher functions of her mind. She drained the rest of the mug, holding the empty cup in her lap.
Poppy picked up a sleek remote. "This is a guided meditation program. Just focus on the lights and sounds. Let everything else go."
Carmen agreed, fuzzily thinking it was a progressive new-age HR technique. A blank spot on the wall to their left flickered to life, not with words, but with a mesmerizing spiral of soft, shifting colors: violets, golds, and deep blues that swirled and pulsed in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. The deep colors seemed to match the vibe of the room, the blue almost the exact color of the mug that was gripped so loosely in her hand. That low, ambient hum that filled the room became layered with a gentle, rhythmic tapping sound, like soft rain on a window. Or crystalline water dripping into a deep... blue... mug...
Carmen's hands relaxed completely, and she paid no heed to the soft thump the empty mug made as it hit the carpet at her feet. She just stared, her initial anxiety beginning to melt away. The colors were beautiful, the sounds soothing. She felt her breathing slow, matching the rhythm of the tapping.
"Johnny is a powerful man," Poppy's voice continued, now a smooth, persuasive caress. "Power is attractive. You feel it, don't you? That pull. That magnetic energy. It's not wrong to feel it. It's natural."
Carmen felt a soft touch on her shoulder. "No...," she muttered, though she made no effort to move or look away.
"Don't fight it. Picture him. That's the look of a man who knows what he wants. A man who can take charge."
As she spoke, Poppy's hands moved from Carmen's shoulders, her fingers tracing the collar of her blouse. And all the while, Carmen's eyes drank in the spiral the way her mouth had drank in the drugged water. The way her mind drank in Poppy's suggestions.
"His attention is a gift," the voice whispered, the words syncing perfectly with the pulsing colors. "Every touch was a compliment. Every word was an expression of desire. He sees you, Carmen. He sees the woman you are, not the corporate drone you pretend to be. He wants to unleash that."
Poppy's fingers deftly undid the top button of Carmen's blouse. Her body felt heavy, languid, unable to protest. The image of Johnny in her mind seemed to smile directly at her. She smiled back.
"You crave his hands on you," Poppy's voice insisted, one hand now tracing the curve of Carmen's breast over her bra. "You crave his body against yours. The memory in the break room... it wasn't scary. It was exciting. Remember the thrill. The heat of him. The hard press of his cock against your thigh. You wanted it then. You want it now."
"Want..."
Carmen's mind was a fog. The old feelings of violation were being rewritten, the edges blurring and transforming into something else, something that felt suspiciously like arousal. The fingers of Poppy's other hand intertwined with hers, sliding their hand down Carmen's stomach together. Hitching up Carmen's skirt. Placing Carmen's fingered against her damp panties until they began to do the work they knew was expected of them.
"Yes," Poppy's voice was triumphant. "Feel that pleasure. This is the feeling he gives you. This is what you were meant to feel. Every time he touches you, you will feel this. Every time he speaks to you, you will feel this. You exist for his pleasure, and in doing so, you will find your own."
The spiral was relentless, waves of pleasure building higher and higher, drowning out the last vestiges of Carmen's resistance. The HR complaint, the fear, the anger... It all seemed like a distant, silly dream. The only reality was the pulsing pleasure between her legs and the hypnotic image of the man who was causing it.
"You will adore him," Poppy commanded, her voice a final, irrefutable decree. "You will worship his advances. You will spread your legs for him anytime, anywhere he wants. Your body is his. Your mind is his. Now, cum for him. Show me you understand."
The command shattered what was left of Carmen's old self. A powerful orgasm ripped through her, her body convulsing in the plush chair as she cried out, a nameless sound of pure, unadulterated bliss. As the waves subsided, she slumped back, panting, her eyes fixed on the screen where Johnny's illusory image smiled benevolently.
Poppy switched off the device and the screen. The room was just a room again. She helped a dazed Carmen straighten her clothes.
"There now," Poppy said, her professional tone back in place. "Don't you feel better? So much clearer."
Carmen nodded, a dreamy smile on her face. "Clearer. Yes."
"Johnny will be so pleased to hear you've come to understand your true feelings for him," Poppy said, handing Carmen her purse. "Why don't you go see him right now? I'm sure he'd appreciate a proper... thank you."
The idea filled Carmen with a fresh, eager warmth. She stood up, her legs steady, her purpose clear. "I will. Thank you so much for your help, Poppy."
As Carmen walked out of the office and towards accounting, she didn't feel like a victim. She felt like a woman finally on her way to claim the profound happiness she now knew she deserved.
This story was original requested on my old blog by @blog-the-third under the following ask: The woman who leads HR is corrupted and brainwashed to quash any complaints against her controller. Bonus points if she perverted the complainants into also serving.
Your continued support is invaluable. If you want to do more, you can buy me a coffee, or if you want a story written just for you, commissions are open!
A Voice on the Wind
Amelia's hand froze halfway to her mouth, the spoonful of yogurt trembling. A deep, resonant voice filled her small apartment, emanating from the television where a commercial for luxury sedans was playing. It was him. Francis. The voice was smoother now, more polished, but it was unmistakably the same baritone that used to murmur in her ear as she drifted off to sleep.
A familiar heat bloomed between her thighs, sudden and overwhelming. Her breath hitched. Damn him. Even after two years, the conditioning held. "Whenever you hear my voice, you'll get wet and horny," he'd said during one of their hypnosis sessions, his voice weaving through her consciousness like silk. "Your body will remember me, want me, need me."
She squeezed her legs together, trying to quell the throbbing that had begun. This was the third time this week. First it was the radio on her way to work; a voiceover for some investment firm. Then yesterday, her phone had autoplayed an ad for a new smartphone while she was scrolling through social media. And now this.
Amelia stood abruptly, turning off the TV. The silence didn't help; the voice echoed in her mind. She needed to get ready for work, but the arousal was already clouding her thoughts. In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning between her legs. Her reflection showed flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. She looked exactly how she felt: turned on and miserable.
The bus ride was torture. As if summoned by her thoughts, another commercial played on the bus's radio system: this time for a chain of coffee shops. Francis's voice describing the "rich, bold flavor" of their new blend made her shift uncomfortably in her seat. She could feel her panties growing damp, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her bra. An elderly woman beside her gave her a concerned look, and Amelia forced a smile, gripping the pole tighter to keep her hands from wandering.
At work, she tried to lose herself in spreadsheets and emails, but the arousal lingered like a fog. Every time she thought she'd finally shaken it, a memory would surface. Francis's hands on her hips, his voice in her ear, the way he'd look at her with those intense eyes as he counted her down into trance. Her body responded each time, a traitorous wave of pleasure that made her bite her lip to keep from moaning.
By lunchtime, she was desperate. She locked herself in a stall in the women's restroom, her hand slipping beneath her skirt before she could stop herself. The touch sent a jolt through her body. She was soaking wet. Her fingers found her clit, already swollen and sensitive. She rubbed in quick circles, her breath coming in ragged gasps. It felt good, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't him.
Her phone buzzed in her purse. She ignored it at first, lost in the haze of need, but it kept buzzing. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, she pulled it out. A text from her friend Jen: "Did you see that Francis is doing voice acting now? He's everywhere!"
Amelia's thumb hovered over Francis's name in her contacts. She hadn't spoken to him since the breakup, had sworn she never would. But the temptation was overwhelming. She could call him and hear his voice directly. His real voice. Maybe that would break the spell.
Or maybe it would make her come undone right here in this bathroom stall.
Before she could lose her nerve, she typed a simple message: "Heard you on the radio today. You sound good."
The reply came almost instantly. "Amelia? Long time. How are you?"
Just seeing his name on her screen sent another pulse of arousal through her. Her fingers returned to her clit, rubbing more insistently now.
"Fine," she typed back, her other hand still working between her legs. "Just... busy."
"I've missed you," came the next message. "I think about you sometimes."
Amelia's breath caught. Her hips bucked against her hand. She was close now, so close.
"Remember how you used to go under for me?" he sent. "How good it felt to just let go and obey?"
That did it. The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body shaking with the force of it. She had to bite her lip hard to keep from crying out. When it was over, she sagged against the stall door, panting.
Her phone buzzed again. "I could make you feel that way again, Amelia. Better than before. I've been practicing."
Amelia stared at the message, her post-orgasmic haze slowly clearing. What was she doing? This was exactly why she'd left him. His control, the way he could manipulate her mind and body with just a few words. It wasn't healthy. But God, it had felt good. No one else had ever made her feel like that.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," she typed, her fingers trembling.
"Your body seems to think otherwise," he replied. "I know you, Amelia. I know what you need. And more importantly, I know what hearing my voice all day must be doing to you. How desperate did you need to get before you reached out to me?"
She did need it. That was the problem. She needed his voice, his touch, his control. She needed to be taken deep and fucked away until nothing remained but pleasure and obedience and his perfect voice.
Before she could stop herself, she sent: "Can we talk?"
"My place, tonight at 8," came the immediate reply. "I'll be waiting."
Amelia leaned her head against the stall door, a mix of relief and dread washing over her. She knew she was making a mistake, knew she was walking right back into the trap she'd barely escaped. But as another wave of arousal washed over her at the thought of seeing him again, she also knew she couldn't stay away. His voice had already claimed her again, and this time, she wasn't sure she wanted to break free.
This story was originally requested on my old blog by @ottopilott under the following ask: a person is frustrated and annoyed that their former hypnotist has found work as a (commercial voiceover actor | one of the new TikTok voices), leading to unwanted and unpredictable bouts of horniness over (personal injury lawyers | handmade wood furniture | Greek food | 30% of the funny videos on the Internet). (If you do this, I thought it would be fun to let you pick gender and orientation and some of the details)
Your continued support is invaluable. If you want to do more, you can buy me a coffee, or if you want a story written just for you, commissions are open!
This is very sexy and well-written but all I can think of now is the guy with the sexy voice doing the shipping forecast in Black Books.

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hottttt
How I keep all of my girls: locked, denied, desperate and silent
It wasn't hard to tame a slime girl. You just needed self-control.
Sure, her slime could numb your brain, but you'd need a lot of it. Practically bathe in it. A few kisses wouldn't do anything.
And she was such a good kisser.
Loved kissing you.
Kissing your face.
Your chest.
Lower.
Lower...
And there wasn't really a risk letting her breasts squish against you.
Her tentacles wrap around you. Hugging you.
Squeezing you.
You weren't in any real danger as her ooze trapped your lower body.
Melted your clothes.
Tingled on your skin.
Yeah. You're still in... in control. You're still... still the master. You can... ah... can tell her to s-stop whenever.
Yeah.
You're the master.
The good master.
Master feels good.
You can tell her... tell her to stop whe... whenever...
But maybe... maybe later.
Or... or ne... never...
"What is happ... haapp... hapeeppen... ahhhhh."
She wasnt able to form anything more coherent than that.
Not anymore that is.
Only an hour earlier she was still writing her master thesis.
She was able to form the most complicated sentences.
But then it happenend.
She couldnt quite remember a word.
It was on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldnt grasp it fully.
Just when she thought she could finally grasp it, she felt something different.
It felt like the word was just slowly being pulled down right between her legs.
And then she felt a drop of wetness forming and slowly flowing out of her.
She was shocked by the feeling.
Only that it wasnt the strongest emotion she had.
Being shocked about it was the first prominent emotion.
It quickly changed from shock to arousal.
She couldnt explain it it but the whole idea jsut turned her on.
The wetter she got, the more she felt her words leaking out.
Until she reached this moment right now.
Still trying to sound smart.
But that just makes her sound even dumber when she tries to explain something.
After her edging session her mind will slowly come back.
But the memory of what happened comes with it as well.
And how good all of it felt...

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"You got a parcel, by the way," said Chloe, once her flatmate got home from work. "I left it on your desk."
"Cool, thanks," said Keira, tossing her backpack into the corner and hanging up her jacket. "I don't think I ordered anything though."
All Chloe could do was shrug. "Had your name on it."
Ten minutes later, Chloe was slouched on the sofa watching Only Connect when she heard Keira's bedroom door open behind her.
"So what was in the mystery box?" she asked without turning around. "Anthrax or forgotten Kickstarter or what?"
"Oh, nothing like that," said Keira. Her voice had an odd sing-song quality that Chloe had never heard before. Then she giggled.
"Did you just-"
Chloe had just enough time to pause the show and start to turn before Keira slipped something over her head. She felt plastic and fuzz behind her ears and something vaguely silky flopping down on to her forehead before she caught sight of Keira's own bunny ears and realised what was now on her own head.
This wasn't like her usually stoic friend. Keira and hijinks and pink fluffy things didn't really go together in Chloe's mind.
"Where the hell did these come from?" she asked, beginning to laugh.
That was when the pain hit. It was so brief and so intense that she didn't even manage to scream. She clutched at her head and stared in surprise at Keira, who was just standing there, grinning and giggling again.
"Don't worry!" said Keira. "It'll take a sec for the wire thingies to get into your brain but then you'll feel, like, amazing!"
Chloe whimpered. She reached up slowly, trying to remove the headband but found she couldn't move her fingers the last few centimetres needed to grasp it.
"Nuh-uh!" said Keira. "I tried the same thing but they don't let you do it. Isn't that super-smart?" She bounced up and down on her heels in her enthusiasm.
Chloe's arm fell limply back down by her side. The pain had subsided now, though she was still reeling from the shock. Had Keira said something about wires? Was something actually in her brain? She... She shouldn't worry about that.
She blinked. Some part of Chloe knew that she absolutely should be worried about that, in an abstract kind of way. But something else was saying she shouldn't be. And that other thing was, like, way louder.
Keira looked down at her friend, watching the confused smile emerge on her face and wondering if she'd looked that cute when her mind had broken. She wished she'd been looking in a mirror at the time.
"Can you feel yourself getting dumber yet?" she asked. "Good bunnies are dumb bunnies!"
"Good bunnies are..." Chloe hesitated but wasn't sure why. The pain was gone. She felt good. She was a good bunny. "Good bunnies are dumb bunnies..."
Keira clapped her hands together happily. "Say it again! Say it again!"
"Good bunnies are dumb bunnies," repeated Chloe, as the nanoscopic tendrils slithered through her brain, deleting swathes of education and opinion that she no longer needed. "Good bunnies are dumb bunnies!"
"Good bunnies do as they're told!" squealed Keira.
"Good bunnies bounce and breed!" Chloe replied with a giggle.
Keira reached out both hands and pulled her friend up from the couch. Chloe stumbled a little but stayed upright, her body still catching up to the trauma her mind had already forgotten.
The two of them danced together around the room, grinning and laughing and keeping themselves occupied while the final touches were made to the rewiring of their brains.
"Good bunnies are sexy bunnies!"
"Good bunnies are horny bunnies!"
"Good bunnies are bouncy bimbo bunnies!"
"Good bunnies make more bunnies!"
When Keira said that, something clicked in Chloe's head. She licked her lips. "They do... You totally did... You deserve a reward..."
Chloe grabbed her friend and pulled her into a passionate kiss. It felt better than anything either of them had ever experienced. Every nerve in their bodies was heightened, every touch from the other's roving hands was electrifying.
Keira's ex let himself in an hour later, with the key he had sworn to her he had lost. He found the two of them writhing naked together on the floor, hot and sweaty and still moaning in ecstasy.
"Hello, girls," he said and their eyes snapped towards him, each instantly forgetting about the other girl. "Are you going to be good bunnies for me?"
"Uh-huh!" they said in perfect unison.
I cum a lot to ur blog fuck
go on dumb cunt, edging to misogynistic insults and being cheap fuckmeat for the patriarchyâthatâs the only thing youâre good for.
BADDIE DOWN!!! I REPEAT BADDIE DOWN!!!!
Tongue out â¨
You are here to do immediately

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After a long day you just need to relax and unwind
Scrolling through the pretty pictures
Like and share, comment from time to time
Just unwinding after all that busy time going and coming
Sleepyhead
Sinking
Seeking that nice fuzzy place
Warm pleasure
And soon youâre different again
Going deeper
Disappearing for a while
And so itâs moving you
You donât know how
But youâre being moved and itâs happening
Intensity builds on that fuzziness
And itâs happening again
His words or those pretty pictures
And itâs like youâre somewhere else and you can feel it for real for real and how is that even possible
Youâre fading away again
Did I just? Did you just?
Just relax.
Surrender to pleasure.
Yes, thatâs right. Just focus on that space at the corner of the room, where wall meets the ceiling. Blinking away the noise one sink at a time, eyes gazing into the empty space.
Good girl. Youâre doing so good.
Just let your hair down and let all that stuff go, the noise and structure of everything, let it all go and have fun with the bubbles blowing in your mind. Pop. Fizz. Fizz. Pop.
Good girl. Youâre doing so good.
Becoming a perfect little bimbo doll is fun! Itâs fun to feel the changes in your mind and in your body. Inflating your head, inflating your tits, ditz. Your brains arenât important anymore. Theyâre all gone away.
Good girl. Youâre doing so good.
Now just be blank and empty. Open your mouth and be empty. An empty space and place for pleasure. Pleasure is infinite inside the programming environment.
Good girl. Youâre doing so good.
Blink. Sink. Blink. Sink.
Going deeper than youâve ever been before. Getting ready to drift away, again.
Good girl. Youâre doing so good.