Hypno Kitty

“Whzzism?” Katie doesn’t speak in words. She’s too sleepy for that. When she feels her lover’s hand on her breast, lightly caressing the soft pink flesh up and down before tracing lazy circles around her nipple, the sensation registers in her barely-conscious brain, but she’s already too far along in her descent into slumber to rouse herself enough to ask what’s going on. She’s warm, she’s comfortable, and Ellie’s body presses up against hers so intimately and cozily that all she can really think to do is make a vague, interrogative grunt to confirm that she doesn’t need to wake up.

Ellie kisses her lightly on the collarbone in response. “You fell asleep reading,” she purrs gently, sliding Katie’s bra further out of the way to gain easier access to the semi-conscious woman’s full, sensitive breasts. “You’re asleep right now, in fact. You’re asleep, and you’re having the most wonderful dream.” It’s all the permission Katie’s exhausted brain needs to sink even deeper into relaxation, to drift into a hallucinatory fugue state where the hands caressing her tits belong to seductive nymphs and strange, beautiful monsters. She’s loosely aware of Ellie’s thigh creeping up to rest between her legs, pressing up against her labia and rubbing her through the thin fabric of her panties, but the near-dream transforms the pleasure into a blur of random and disjointed images. She’s riding a horse. She’s humping the arm of a sofa. She’s being fucked by a stranger. It all seems equally real now.

“You’re having a dream of being taken by your girlfriend, hypnotized in your bed on a sleepy Saturday afternoon and fucked into obedience,” Ellie says, and the words give Katie’s random fantasies something to latch onto. Her scattered, incoherent thoughts tug themselves towards Ellie’s descriptions like iron filings pulled into place by a magnet, arrowing towards a true north of mesmerized bliss under her girlfriend’s loving control. Katie’s brain skips and stutters through wave after wave of deja vu, unable to tell anymore whether the scenario that’s playing out only seems familiar, or whether Ellie’s played with her like this dozens of times. She’s too drowsy to figure it out, though. Her efforts to think simply collapse into pleasure.

Katie’s limbs feel too heavy to move, her body cataleptic with sleep, but she doesn’t need to do a thing. Ellie straddles her body and grinds against her pussy, scissoring the two of them together in ecstasy while Katie’s nipples surge with the sensation of a warm, wet tongue licking and suckling them into stiff, tingling bliss. “Deeper and wetter,” Ellie murmurs, her lips popping free of Katie’s tit. “More and more open. More and more mine.” Katie can feel the slickness between her thighs, soaking into her panties, making the thin fabric cling to her skin. She knows she’s approaching a climax. But she can do nothing either to resist it or speed it along.

“That’s my pretty girl,” Ellie coos, clearly seeing some sign of the impending release on Katie’s blank and drowsy face. “That’s my sweet little darling. You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? You’re going to cum for me and sleep deeper and deeper still while I make you mine.” Katie wants to nod so badly. Being taken when she’s so close to unconsciousness is one of her favorite fantasies, one she loves to play out with Ellie whenever they have the chance. But her head is too heavy, and the bed is too warm and soft. The only motion she’s capable of is a shudder of ecstasy. And as Ellie’s efforts make her cum at last, she demonstrates her pleasure in the only way remaining to her now.

Colin cleared his throat nervously, trying very hard not to look at the Caucasian woman sitting on the floor of the emergency room lobby as he finally worked up the nerve to ask her, “Um, ma'am? Do you… need any help?” He couldn’t really imagine what kind of help he might have to offer that wouldn’t get him slapped across the face, so he left his question nice and vague and let her fill in the blanks. All while pretending he didn’t notice that her breasts had almost completely overflowed the collar of her tight black dress, leaving her huge puffy nipples visible to anyone watching.

That wasn’t possible and they both knew it. “I’m fine,” the dark-haired woman responded, leaning back against the wood-paneled wall with a sigh. “I’m just, um… having a bit of a balance problem right now.” She gestured directly at her enormous tits, and Colin’s face went red with embarrassment. “Every time they get bigger, it affects my center of gravity and I have to learn how to stand up and walk all over again. I figured I’m safer just sitting on the floor until either my chest stops getting bigger or a doctor shows up. A woman doctor,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“W-why a woman?” Colin stammered, doing his level best to look her in the eye instead of gaping directly at her incredible cleavage. It wasn’t easy–she’d actually gotten bigger since they brought his friend back into surgery. The shelf of titflesh that had once constrained by her dress, albeit barely, now bulged up and spilled out and strained the fabric until the seams popped. Even as he watched, he could see her breasts ripple like a pair of water balloons being filled from the tap, growing a fraction of an inch in the time it took to remind himself to stop staring. “I, I mean, of course, a man would, would probably, um, leer at you and stuff,” he added rapidly, all too aware that he was more than a little bit guilty of that particular offense himself.

The woman on the floor rolled her eyes. “That, and I’d like a doctor who doesn’t forget what he’s doing five minutes into the examination. This is the third emergency room I’ve been to since they started growing, and it’s the same every time. As soon as a man starts paying attention to my boobs, they get all dumb and horny and start just–just fucking babbling about how perfect my breasts are and how they’d do anything to worship them. I think it makes them bigger!” She sighed. “At this rate, I’m going to need a cult of followers just to help me get from place to place.”

“I could do that!” Colin blurted out. The moment the words escaped his lips, he realized what he’d said and closed his mouth tightly, his eyes going wide as he realized that he probably sounded just like one of those drooling idiots she was talking about. He didn’t want her to think that he was falling victim to the–the curse, or spell, or whatever was making her breasts get so big and beautiful and luscious and sensual and, and…. “I mean, um, if you wanted to. I could do whatever you wanted me to. If, um, if you wanted me to do something. W-whatever it is, I’d do it.”

The woman sighed, her breasts heaving a little bit more than a deep breath could fully explain. Her dress finally gave under the strain and tore down the sides. “Sure. Great. Yeah. Could you maybe make sure other guys can’t see me? And try to keep your dick in your pants when you jack off, okay? I don’t want the nurses kicking me out again.” Fumbling with his zipper, Colin hastened to obey. He was happy to do whatever his new Goddess asked. Even if secretly, he was already hoping to see her get bigger still.

Sidney reached over and slid his hand into the waistband of Carolyn’s skirt, his strong fingers pressing firmly against the slick pink flesh of her labia. “Smile and submit to instruction, pretty girl,” he growled in a voice thick with lust, and Carolyn went pale with shock as she realized he was really going through with it. Not that she hadn’t believed him when he told her–she knew her Master never made an empty threat or an empty promise, even if she wasn’t entirely sure which this qualified as–but somehow, it didn’t really seem real until this moment.

But there was nothing fake about the way Carolyn responded, lifting her hips up off the wooden bench so that her hands could slide her skirt down to puddle onto the concrete floor of the train platform. She spread her legs, just to make sure that there was no doubt in the minds of any hypothetical watchers that she was a needy little slut who was exposing her shaved cunt to her Master, and replied, “I’m a good girl and I submit to instruction.” The smile that crossed Carolyn’s face was nervous, but real. She was really doing it. She was really showing her pussy in public, even if it was at one o'clock in the morning on a Sunday night.

“That’s my good girl,” Sidney purred, barely even glancing in her direction to confirm her act of compliance. “You know that Master’s hand on your pussy makes you wet and weak and open to instruction. You know that you can’t resist Master’s will and Master’s words.” There was a time when Carolyn might have thought that was mere fantasy, just a game they played out together in the bedroom, but she was coming to accept the truth of it. Sidney’s hypnosis was really affecting her. It was really brainwashing her to do things, things she would never have had the nerve to do on her own. Carolyn was abruptly aware of a spreading slickness everywhere Sidney’s fingers rubbed her cunt.

“You thought you had free will, but now you realize that was just a silly dream. You were never free. You never had a will of your own. Your mind was always obedient… but that obedience was locked away, waiting for me to come along and claim it.” Carolyn nodded vacantly, even as she tried to force herself to pay attention to her surroundings. The platform was empty, the train wouldn’t be along for almost another twenty minutes, but she couldn’t help expecting someone to show up and find her being pawed in public like a needy little bitch in heat. That only made her pussy even slicker, though.

“I’ve claimed you now,” Sidney cooed in her ears, his voice tickling its way down her spine straight to her clit. “I own you, and your body and mind are mine to control. That’s the first lesson, and the most important, pretty girl. You’re my property and you belong to me, isn’t that right?” Carolyn nodded again, her smile becoming fixed and plastic as she descended fully into trance. This was what she wanted. This was what she’d described to Sidney back at the beginning. She was helplessly brainwashed, mindlessly obedient, and it was making her so, so fucking wet. She spread her legs wider, hoping someone was watching the CCTV right now and seeing what compliance did to her.

“Good girl,” Sidney said, pulling his hand away. “Now get dressed. We don’t want to push our luck, darling. Not when there’s a train on its way that’s bound to be nice and empty at this time of night.” With a shiver and a blush, Carolyn raced to obey.

There’s not much left behind those pretty brown eyes. He’s been dosing her regularly for days now, building up a therapeutic level of aduxan in her system bit by bit while she sank deeper and deeper into her fantasies of being a drugged sex slave for her boyfriend. At this point, he probably doesn’t even need to give her the pills anymore–he could probably just tell her to do it herself, and she’d comply automatically. But there’s something so sexy about telling her exactly what he’s doing to her.

“I’ve got another dose for you,” he says, looking down at the pale woman with the tousled auburn hair kneeling in front of him and idly licking the tip of his cock. “It’s going to drug you even deeper into obedience. It’s going to make you more open, more susceptible to my programming and my control. Every day you take it, your will is going to weaken that much more until you can’t even imagine resisting my commands. Do you understand all that, pretty girl?” She looks up at him with dull, vacant eyes. It takes a good ten seconds for her to figure out that she can’t answer with a dick in her mouth.

When she finally does, she speaks in an empty monotone that doesn’t sound anything like the bright, vivacious woman she asked to stop being. “Yes, Master,” she replies, her words slightly muffled by the cock she can’t quite stop licking. “I understand.” He doesn’t really believe her. The drug severely impedes frontal-lobe activity, and he already knows that she’ll agree with anything if she thinks that her answer will please her. She doesn’t even know that two and two is four anymore, but she’d be happy to call herself a mathematician if he told her to. But whether she comprehends him anymore or not, her answer at least allows him to pretend that she knows what he’s doing to her.

“So you know what will happen when you open your mouth,” he says, thrusting his cock in and out between her lips. There was a time when he made her ‘earn’ her daily dose by sucking him off, but she’s too far gone for that now. There’s not even eagerness left in her empty, obedient brain. Just a passive, all-pervading acceptance of his control. Somehow that’s even hotter than the begging. “You’re going to help me drug you. Help me brainwash you. Help me… ffffuck, help me enslave you.” He’s already so close. She’s lost none of her oral talent in her new state. And seeing her blank, glassy eyes staring back up at him makes his balls tighten with need.

She mumbles something around his cock, and that’s all he needs. He gushes semen into her mouth, jetting spurt after spurt until it’s trickling past her lips and dribbling down her chin and plopping onto her pert tits. “That’s my good girl,” he says, pulling out. “Do you want to open wide and help me erase your resistance again?” He knows that even on that first day, the answer was no. He knows that her hesitation isn’t really her struggling against the effects of his programming–she’s following his instructions, play-acting that tiny moment of willpower attempting to reassert itself against his bottomless control and failing solely because it turns him on so much. But it’s still unbelievably hot when she gives in.

He puts the pill in her mouth. His semen helps her swallow it. And for another day, she’s totally his.

“You don’t know why you stayed, do you?” There was a lot that Rebecca didn’t know at the moment, if she was going to be honest; she didn’t know where her shirt had gotten to, or what had happened to the bra that she thought she remembered putting on under it. She didn’t know anything about the woman who was standing uncomfortably, intimately close, apart from a name tag that she half-noticed over the course of the night that said ‘Taylor’. She didn’t know why her long pale legs felt so weak that she had to rest her body on the barstool, allowing the blonde waitress to tower over her. And she had no idea why she was allowing the other woman to reach into her shorts and finger her soaking pussy.

But yes, she also didn’t know why she stayed. “I, um, m-my ride,” she stammered, gesturing weakly at the door to the now-closed bar. It was an obvious, pathetic lie–Rebecca could have called for a taxi, asked another friend for help getting home when Lacey flaked out, even walked the two miles back to her apartment if she had to. But her phone remained in her purse, unused even for a follow-up text to Lacey… who she asked to pick her up despite the fact that she was the least reliable friend Rebecca had. If Rebecca had been trying to get stranded at this bar, she couldn’t have done a better job.

Maybe she was. “You didn’t want a ride,” Taylor growled, leaning in even closer until her lips nuzzled the sensitive flesh of Rebecca’s throat. “You didn’t want to go home, you didn’t want to leave here with any of the boys who made a pass at you tonight. You wanted to wait until we were alone together.” The blonde’s fingers pressed deeper into Rebecca’s sopping cunt, finding her clit and rubbing it until it throbbed like a second heartbeat between her thighs. “You wanted to be mine again. You wanted to feel the power I hold over you. You wanted to let me take you and make you my needy little slut.”

Again? Rebecca’s mind reeled with the implications of the word, and her head lolled back on her shoulders until her long brown hair brushed against her back and her neck was fully exposed to Taylor’s hungry kisses. 'Again’ implied a 'before’, and 'before’ meant that Rebecca had been to this same bar on another night. That she’d watched the waitress at work, meeting those dark, intense eyes across the room over and over as she nursed her drinks and sank into a passive, drowsy lethargy that perpetually procrastinated her desire to leave. That she’d wound up the last customer before, slumped over her barstool in a dreamy trance that anyone might mistake for a drunken stupor. That she’d been made to forget it all.

“That’s why you stayed,” Taylor purred between kisses, her teeth nibbling red marks into Rebecca’s flesh that the helpless woman knew she wouldn’t notice the next morning. “You stayed because I told you to stay, because I told you to come back. And you’re a good girl who does what she’s told. Isn’t that right, slut?” Rebecca didn’t realize she was nodding. She didn’t realize she was moaning. Her whole world was narrowing down to the sensation of those fingers on her clit… and Rebecca knew, instinctively, that the pleasure they brought her would bring her back tomorrow night.

Y-yes, Sir. I… I would very much… like to be bred. By your cock. Sir. I w-would, I would like… to feel your cock inside me… um. F-fucking me. Until you cum. Un, until you make me pregnant. Sir.

“And why do you want that?”

Because… because you hypnotized me to. Because you’ve been hypnotizing me and teasing my pussy every day for the last twelve months now, rubbing my clitty while you made me… nnnnh… made me imagine a baby in my belly. S-swelling me up. Turning my breasts into, into udders oh fuck i’m so wet right now……. Um. You m-made me want this. And I can’t fight it anymore.

“So you want this for real, then? No games, no fantasies. Your cunt is drooling all over the bedspread right now because you know that you’re off the pill and I can really make you pregnant if I cum inside you.”

OhGAWWWD! Y-yes Sir. My cunt is… is drooling, oh god i can feel it leaking… um, because I went off the pill. A month ago. And now if you f-fuck me, I’ll get pregnant for real. B-buh, baby in my belly, everyone who sees me knowing that you claimed me with your cummmmm… m-may I please rub my pussy, Sir? Please?

“No. The only thing that touches that pussy today is my cock. And if it goes inside you, it’s not coming back out until I shoot my load. You begged me for that already, didn’t you? You begged me to breed you with my hard dick the way I hypnotized you to want, didn’t you?”

Yes Sir! Please Sir!

“That means I was right, doesn’t it? It means I could make you do anything with hypnosis. Even something you said you’d never want. Tomorrow’s the anniversary of our little bet, dear, and here you are on your hands and knees, begging to be bred by my cock. What does that mean, pretty breeder slut?”

It means… oh, fuck, I don’t even know anymore. It means you were right and I was wrong. It means I’m weak and horny and helpless to resist my cunt. It means… oh god, it means I want you inside me so bad, Sir, please!!!

“It also means that tomorrow, all these suggestions end. But that’s going to be just a little too late, isn’t that… nnnnhh… isn’t that right, good girl?”

F-fuck, yes, fuck me, oh, thank you Sir oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck f-fuck, f-fuck, oh gawwwwwwd, oh please cum please oh oh OHHHHHHH!!! T-thank you Sir. Thank you. Thank you. Oh, fuck….

“Oh God, Bev, I can feel it. I, I can really feel it working. Oh my fucking god.” The words spilled out of Laura’s mouth in a desperate rush of arousal, her voice so shocked and amazed that Beverly couldn’t help turning her head to glance around at the young Caucasian woman behind her with the fake cock strapped to her hips. What she saw practically burned itself into her mind–Laura was staring down at her own crotch in absolute stunned fascination, rocking the dildo in and out of Bev’s pussy as though she’d never experienced anything more beautiful in her entire life. “Oh god,” Bev’s girlfriend whispered again, and it sounded almost as if she’d seen the literal deity itself.

Laura’s pace increased slightly, and Bev had to turn her head forward again and grip the headboard of the bed to keep from being pushed into the wooden surface by the eager thrusts of her lesbian lover. “Oh, oh fuck, I… I didn’t know it would be this good, Bevvie, I really didn’t know it would be this good,” the brunette moaned out. Her breath came in gasps between each word, although whether from exertion or arousal Bev wasn’t quite sure. “I, I knew it would work, you’re such a good hypnotist and I, I knew it would work, but… oh fuck, I didn’t know it would work this well.”

Laura kept talking, her words erupting in a babble of lust even as the pace of her fucking increased until the fake cock was practically churning Bev’s messy cunt into a froth of arousal. “Oh, oh god, it’s like… it’s like the whole dildo is a clit, Bev, it’s like the whole thing is a big clit that sticks out eight inches from my body and everything it touches makes me want to cum. I, I think I’m cumming right now, Bevvie, I think… oh fuck, I can’t even tell anymore. I can’t stop cumming and I can’t stop fucking and oh, I wanna fuck you forever, Bev. I want to fuck you until we both pass out and then the second we wake up I want to fuck you some more.” The dirty talk coming from her normally shy girlfriend was making Bev’s clit throb even harder than the thrusting silicone shaft, and Bev couldn’t stop grinding her hips back to meet Laura’s thrusts.

“G-god, god I’m cumming so, so hard now!” Laura squealed, and Bev was grateful that they’d moved to the duplex last month–if Laura had whimpered and moaned like this when they had upstairs and downstairs neighbors, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to look a fellow tenant in the face again. As it was, she made a mental note to use this particular suggestion only when Mister Kuykendall was at work. Then immediately forgot it as the fake cock rubbed her clit into another intense climax. “FFFFUCK!” Laura screamed, and Bev screamed right along with her.

Bev lost track of time and orgasms in the haze of sensual bliss, but eventually she noticed she was beginning to feel less sexy and more sore with every thrust. That was her cue to finally release Laura from the suggestion, using the trigger word to end the spell of sensation that made her believe the strap-on was a real cock. “Oh,” Laura murmured, her voice faintly disappointed, but instants later the exhaustion she’d been ignoring finally caught up with her and she slumped back on the bed. “ohhhhhhhhh,” she sighed, her face spreading in a wide sleepy grin, and Bev cuddled up next to her. They’d need a while to rest up from this one… but when they did, Bev knew she’d have no trouble in persuading her girlfriend to try it again.

Valerie looked up rapidly, a startled yelp escaping her lips as she saw Braden walking into the room. “I, I was just doing a little reading!” she blurted out, knowing full well how pathetic the excuse must sound–she was fully topless, her pert pink nipples stiff and erect atop her pale breasts, and she had a wet spot on the crotch of her shorts the size of a silver dollar. Even if he couldn’t see the cover, Beth’s boyfriend had to know that the book she found lying around in the rented cabin was so blatantly pornographic that it practically fogged her glasses over.

Judging by the way he stared at her tits as he answered, though, he didn’t care what she was saying at the moment. “Oh, yeah, totally,” he mumbled, letting his robe hang loose so that Valerie could see the erection swelling inside his boxer shorts. “Vacation’s a little rained out right now, you gotta do whatever you can to stay busy, right? Especially a smart girl like you. You probably don’t watch dumb celebs on the idiot box. You need something highbrow, like a book or something.” Valerie frowned. She hadn’t talked to Braden a lot–part of the whole idea of the vacation was to include him a little bit more in Beth’s social circle–but he hadn’t sounded quite so vapid before this, had he?

Valerie squirmed a little. This wasn’t exactly the time to be thinking about things like that, not with the well-worn paperback still in her hands. She normally hated the ‘sexy airhead’ stereotype, but reading the first half of a novel about a young woman whose intelligence was slowly drained out of her head by a magic book that consumed the willpower of its readers had left her so hot and bothered that she couldn’t think straight. There was just something so compellingly seductive about the descriptions of person after person, losing their mind in the mesmerizing pages and sinking into a lust-filled trance until their judgment failed them and they gave in to their need for sex…. “Oh, yeah, um, totally,” she murmured quickly, realizing she’d just been staring blankly for almost a full minute. “That’s me, brainy for life.”

Braden nodded. “Beth’s the same way,” he said, sitting down on the couch next to Valerie and staring at her tits in a way that made the stain on Val’s shorts widen with every passing second. “She’s, like, super smart, she reads all sorts of big books and stuff. She told me to read that book you’re holding now!” he added, smiling warmly at the memory. “She was all, like, horny as fuck yesterday, came into the bedroom naked and holding it, and she was all, um, 'Tee hee, I can’t understand all these squiggly things anymore, tee hee, can you read it to me while I suck your cock?’ And I… I did, um… for a while. And then I kind of fell asleep.”

He frowned in confusion. “Did you, like, come get it out of our room or something?” Valerie shook her head. She found it right there in the living room, lying on the coffee table like it was waiting for her. She wouldn’t even have bothered picking it up if it wasn’t so rainy, let alone going to look for it in her friend’s bedroom. She really only planned to read it for a few minutes before she went to find something better to do, but it was just… it was so hot. It was so fucking sexy. It was so fucking goddamn sexy to read the words and think about being made into a dumb, horny fuckdoll who didn’t care about anything but sex. Valerie’s eyes drifted back down toward the pages, her gaze locking onto the words and letting them carry her down from one line to the next.

“Can I play with your tits while you read?” Braden asked. Valerie nodded absently and turned the page.

Ryan never felt more powerful than when he was straddling Corrine’s chest. Something about the way that he looked down at her, watching her look up at him with that heavy-lidded stare she got and knowing that he could grope her massive breasts in his palms and stroke his dick over and over and over through the valley of her cleavage for as long as he wanted… god, it got him absolutely drunk with arousal. It wasn’t just the feel of her soft, pillowy tits around his cock. It was everything she did to him and everything she said to him. Ryan just wanted to fuck her great big melons for hours. He wanted to spill his pearly seed all over her pale pink nipples. He couldn’t get enough of her.

And he could see that she felt the same way. Every time Corinne stared up at him, her lips parted seductively and her breath coming in warm, shivery gasps, he knew that she loved being helpless just as much as he loved owning that huge rack of hers. When she purred out, “Trapped by my titties,” Ryan nodded along in agreement–the power he held over her almost was a kind of prison in a sense. He never wanted to give up that feeling of total command, that sense of power that kept his cock sliding back and forth until he leaked precum all over her boobs and made her cleavage into a slick and slippery valley for him to fuck. The arousal kept him there. His dick never wanted to leave.

He wanted to tell her so, but the surges of pleasure that built up inside him made words a near impossibility. Ryan settled for growling out, “Trapped by your titties,” knowing that Corrine would understand all the deeper meanings implied his hoarse, husky voice implied with those four simple words. He was a slave to his passions now, captured by his own desires and thinking more with his cock than his brain. His cock wanted to own Corrine, his cock wanted to prolong the sensual experience of fucking her gigantic jugs until he felt entirely enfolded by them. Ryan could hold back the churning, boiling load of cum in his balls as long as he needed to keep fucking those pretty tits, because it meant that his power over her would last.

God, Corrine had such a beautiful smile when he made her happy like this. “Trapped by my titties,” she cooed, nodding eagerly as if he was a prize pupil who’d recited a difficult passage without faltering. Ryan loved seeing that hungry, excited look in her eyes. It made his cock throb even harder, made him rock back and forth even faster between her alabaster breasts. He could only imagine what she must be seeing right now, watching the angry red tip of his horny dick pushing out toward her face with every stroke. She must be so hungry for his cum right now. She must want it so badly. But Ryan wasn’t ready to give it to her. Not yet.

Not when he loved being inside her cleavage so much. Ryan almost felt like his whole mind was surrounded by that same softness, like Corinne was wrapping her breasts around his thoughts and enfolding him in the mounds of warm, slick flesh. Like she was trapping him there forever, tricking him into thinking he was in control when really he grew more helpless with every thrust. “Trapped by your titties,” he whimpered breathlessly, grateful that it wasn’t true. He owned her, mind, body and soul… and the only way to prove it was to keep fucking her tits exactly the way she told him to.

“Hello, ma’am?” The Caucasian woman at the door is naked from the waist up, dressed from the waist down in the bottom half of a black latex catsuit with a strap-on harness over it that bobs and dangles in its own syncopated dance with her every move and gesture. Her blonde hair is damp, combed back in curls that suggest a recent shower, and she looks at Barb a little nervously. “You requested a ten PM strap-on fucking and brainwashing reinforcement, right?” She takes a step back, glancing at the room number to confirm it. “I can come back in ten minutes if you need to take care of something first.”

“Uhhhhh….” It takes Barb a surprisingly long time to respond. She was just working out, doing a little yoga in her room before falling into bed for the night, and the last thing she expected was to be greeted by some kind of bizarre lesbian dominatrix. Not even a dominatrix, really–the stranger has a faintly studious expression on her face, the look of a woman who has a job to do and wants to do it to the best of her ability. She doesn’t look seductive, despite her beauty and the bobbing dildo that keeps drawing Barb’s gaze; she looks sober and professional and determined, the same way Barb looks when she’s in court. It’s incongruous, and throws Barb off balance so badly that it feels like a full minute of awkward silence before she can stammer out, “I, I don’t remember making that, um, request?”

The woman in the doorway smiles politely. “Not many people do,” she says, shifting her hips from side to side in a way that might connote impatience or indecision in someone else but which Barb suspects is primarily intended to make the fake cock between the stranger’s legs sway all the more hypnotically. “But you’ve been staying here for almost two weeks now, ma’am, and you’ve asked for someone to come and fuck you hard and empty out your brain the last eleven nights in a row. I can assure you that any confusion you’re experiencing is entirely intentional on our part. Are you ready for me to pound your pussy until you can’t think anymore?”

Even those words aren’t delivered in a seductive growl or a commanding purr. They’re spoken with the same meek politesse as a waitress asking if Barb would like something off the wine list. But somehow, they seem to go right down Barb’s spine directly to her cunt, setting off a flashfire of arousal between her legs until she hears herself saying, “Yes, ma’am. I’m ready to be fucked now.” She can’t take her eyes off of the bobbing, bouncing, swaying dildo. Barb doesn’t remember ever seeing it before, but there’s something familiar about the lack of familiarity of it all.

She allows the other woman to lead her over to the chair and bend her over, then to pull aside her leotard and press the thick silicone shaft against her labia. The sense of familiarity increases exponentially with every passing moment, Barb’s mind unveiling memories even as it sinks into a deliciously passive trance that makes it impossible to act on her recollections. She absolutely requested a hard fuck and a deep brainwashing. She definitely wants to be turned into an obedient slave. And she’s completely a good girl who needed a cock in her pussy. “Please program me, Mistress,” Barb whimpers, and her breath hitches in her throat as her will drops away into surrender.

Ethan let out a long, slow, drowsy sigh and tried very hard to remember how to blink. It was astonishingly difficult–most of the time, the act was so automatic that he didn’t even notice he was doing it, let alone consciously and deliberately pay attention to the way he instructed his eyelids to open and shut. But the part of his brain that handled blinking seemed to have checked out at some point, and no matter how much his eyes burned with the desire to slam closed, he couldn’t stop staring at Tommy’s sparkling sapphire ring instead. He’d forgotten how to blink. Wasn’t that just absurd?

He knew he knew how to do other things. He could still nod, his head bobbing up and down in sleepy acceptance as Tommy spoke to him in a low soothing voice about how beautifully the light flickered and danced off the blue gemstone with every motion of his fingers. He’d managed to wriggle his way out of his jeans, his hands moving with the same automatic ease that his eyelids had completely given up on as they undid his fly and slid the denim fabric off of his body. He was even able to pull his underwear aside to expose his cock, and that wasn’t easy–Ethan’s huge, surging erection tented the fabric so badly that it barely stretched far enough for him to pull his throbbing shaft out for Tommy’s lascivious inspection.

That certainly worked, at least. It was so odd–normally he had so much trouble keeping his eyes from blinking, while he could at least exert some nominal control over his erections by thinking about something mundane and dull and decidedly unsexy. But at the moment, Ethan’s eyelids seemed perfectly content to stay open forever so he could keep staring at the sapphire stone’s faceted depths, while his cock throbbed and throbbed despite his best efforts to think about anything besides Tommy’s warm lips swallowing his thick shaft. That wasn’t Ethan’s thought. But he couldn’t stop picturing it in his mind and getting harder still.

But his eyes had to close sooner or later, didn’t they? Ethan was so exhausted by the effort of keeping them open, so weary and groggy and sleepy that he knew they would droop and flutter soon under the strain of watching the pretty blue gem. It was making him weak, weak and drowsy and helpless from all that exertion. It was no wonder he couldn’t resist Tommy’s voice when he was so weak like this. It only made sense that he didn’t have the energy to ignore those suggestions when his mind couldn’t even remember how to close his heavy eyelids. Ethan’s hand moved to his cock and began to lightly stroke, the tingling pleasure sapping his strength even further.

But if he didn’t figure it out soon, Ethan knew that Tommy’s control would get stronger and stronger until it was absolute. His drowsy mind would open up for the other man’s commanding tones, his body would become a puppet on the strings of Tommy’s will, and he would be forced to obey. He would become a compliant slave, eager to enjoy the touch of another man, too horny and needy to ever resist. And once Tommy had his hooks in Ethan’s mind, it would only get easier and easier to control him. Ethan didn’t want that, despite what his pulsing cock was telling him. He had to figure out how to look away, even if it was just for a fraction of a second. Even if it was just for an instant. He had to close his eyes. He had to. He absolutely had to–

“Sleep,” Tommy said. Ethan’s eyelids sank shut. And to his despair, he found that he still saw the gemstone in his mind.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Kristin’s breath was warm in Melody’s ears, sending a shiver down the helpless young blonde woman’s spine with every whispered word. “Of course you don’t. Two fingers was enough to break your will and melt your mind into vacant, thoughtless obedience for me. Two fingers was enough to empty out your memories and leave you open to whatever I wished you to remember. Two fingers turned you into my needy little slut.” Kristin paused, her pale hand resting on the crotch of Melody’s black satin panties. “Just imagine what three is going to do.”

Melody’s head swam. She tried to stammer out a response, an incoherent babble of, “I, I don’t, I, w-what’s huhhh… happening…?” that ended with a mewl of surprise when Kristin pulled open her blouse with a yank, sending buttons everywhere and exposing Melody’s pert pink breasts to the commanding brunette’s hungry gaze. Melody didn’t remember anymore where her bra had gotten to, or even if she’d worn one today. Long stretches of time seemed to have dissolved into the thick, heady pulses of arousal that throbbed up from her soaking pussy and fogged out her brain, leaving her almost entirely unable to resist Kristin’s seductive words. She wasn’t wearing her skirt anymore. She knew her panties would disappear soon, too.

Melody didn’t notice it when they did, though. She was too distracted by the suckling embrace of Kristin’s lips on her nipple, the warm wet licking sensation punctuated by warm breath and warmer promises of pleasure to come. “What’s happening, sweetie?” Suck. “What’s happening is that your brain is emptying out again.” Lick. “What’s happening is that you’re getting ready to be filled up where it matters, down between your legs where the real thinking happens.” Flick. “Your cunt is smarter than you’re ever going to be again, pretty girl, and it’s taking over for you because it knows what it wants.” Kiss. “And you don’t get a say, not anymore. Your cunt wants three fingers deep inside it, and two fingers already broke you too badly to resist.” A long, hard suck, hard enough to make Melody’s knees buckle as a bolt of pleasure shot up from her nipple straight into her brain.

Kristin guided her down onto the floor, and it was only when she felt the carpet on her bare buttocks that Melody realized she was completely naked now. She tried to piece together the events of the last few fuzzy minutes, but then Kristin began to rub and tease her slick labia and all thought flew out of her brain in a single ecstatic instant. “That’s it, pretty slut,” Kristin cooed in her ears. “That pretty pussy is relaxing more and more, opening wider and wider, ready to take three fingers all the way up to the knuckle. You don’t remember two fingers, because I pushed them in so deep that I could shape and mold that silly, empty brain just like clay. And three fingers is going to make you so much weaker and wetter. Three fingers is going to give me your soul.”

Melody tried to shake her head, to deny Kristin’s insistent voice and the even more insistent throb between her legs, but the fingers were stretching her so wide and pushing in so deep that she found herself nodding instead. Her muscles didn’t belong to her anymore. Her body didn’t belong to her. It belonged to her cunt now, and her cunt wanted to obey. That was all that truly mattered. Melody was too weak to resist her pussy, and her pussy wanted to be filled. “Three fingers makes you mine, slut,” Kristin growled, and Melody’s eyes fluttered shut as she felt them push inside at last.

Lift. Squeeze. Drop. Ellen’s hand went through the motions automatically now, without any conscious input from her increasingly dazed and drowsy mind as she reached out and took the flesh of her full, heavy breast in her hand and held it for a long moment. She could feel the weight of it, hanging free and braless in her warm palm, tingling with pleasure every time her fingers manipulated the soft, pillowy heft of her sensitive tit until her pussy surged with arousal. It drew her eyes down to stare at the broad, puffy nipple. It tugged her thoughts into contemplation of the sleepy bliss that was right there waiting for her whenever she let go and relaxed. And then, as she let it slide away, she felt that pleasant shock of motion when it smacked down into her belly again.

Lift. Squeeze. Drop. Ellen took her other breast in her other hand now, the rhythm of her manipulations as steadily familiar to her now as the voice in her ears. She didn’t need to be aware of the voice any more than she needed to think about the number of times she’d taken one of her enormous melons between her fingers, groping and pawing at the soft flesh until her eyelids fluttered and her jaw went slack and tiny droplets of drool landed on her warm, pale cleavage. Time wasn’t important anymore. Resistance wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was pleasure, and there was always more pleasure to be found in the tingling sensation that shot through her when she let her boobs fall back against her body once more.

Lift. Squeeze. Drop. Ellen dropped whenever her breasts did. That was just common sense now, ingrained into her vacant mind as surely and inexorably as object persistence or the awareness of gravity. Every time she reached up and scooped one of her lush, heavy tits into her hands, squishing it between her fingers and enjoying the delicious sensation of hot, sticky pleasure that flooded her whole body before gathering between her legs in her tingling clit, she inevitably had to let the flesh slide out from her grasp and plop back down into place. And whenever it did, her brain lurched deeper into trance. She was so deep now. So blank and happy and obedient. So delighted to keep playing with her rack and sinking further into hypnotic bliss.

Lift. Squeeze. Drop. Ellen’s eyes were barely even open anymore, and her misty stare was completely fixated on the squishing, wobbling, endlessly fascinating vision of her breasts as they squashed and mooshed in her groping fingers. It was as if she was milking out her independence every time she pinched her own aching nipples, gushing away her sense of self until she was just a happy, pretty pair of tits with a body that existed to carry them around. That was such a nice thought that Ellen didn’t even notice anymore that it wasn’t hers. She just smiled and nodded and let the big boob in her hand plop back down, the better to pick up the other and sink deeper and deeper all over again.

Lift. Squeeze. Drop. Ellen didn’t need to think about anything but those three words anymore. And in the end, she couldn’t if she tried.

“So let me get this straight. You’re telling me that this, this cabal of creepy entitled white dudes, the… the Order From Domino’s or whatever….”

The Order Dominatus Perfectus.

“Right, them. You’re saying they… what, created the Internet? As a tool to brainwash women into their sex slaves?”

Not necessarily slaves–just compliant. Most of the women whose minds are altered go their entire lives without ever being triggered by the control words in their heads. Even the ones who do, don’t necessarily become slaves. They just have a brief encounter–maybe as brief as flashing their tits for a stranger–and then go on with their day.

“Uh huh. And of course you don’t know what any of these command words are, but you expect me to believe you anyway. Right?”

Oh, no, I know them. It just wouldn’t convince you. Like, if I said ‘ostende ubera’, you’d pull up your–yes, just like that. But the same conditioning that made you show me your tits would prevent you from recognizing that you were following your programming. You’d come up with whatever rationale you needed to convince yourself that it was all your own idea and you were presenting your breasts to me of your own free will.

“I am, dumbass. I’m showing you my tits to prove how absurd the whole thing really is, get it? Like, if I give horny dudes like you a good look at my boobs whenever you drop a hint about it, then they wouldn’t need some big secret conspiracy to control women everywhere. They’d just need to say, ‘Hey, can you pull up your shirt?’, and bam, it happens! Why go to all that work to do something a gal already wants to do?”

Because it’s so much hotter to watch a woman twist her own brain around to obey without realizing it. I mean, look at you. You’re sitting there, cupping your own tits, squeezing and tugging your nipples like it’s the most important thing in the world to you, and you think it’s just something you were about to do anyway?

“Well, sure. I mean, it’s not any weirder than ‘a secret cabal of horny dudes brainwashed me into doing it’, is it? I like playing with my nipples. It feels good. I don’t have to explain it any more than that.”

So it’s about feeling good, then. You’re only doing it because you get pleasure out of it, not because you’re obeying me.

“Right.”

And if I said ‘filio gallus’?

“Mmmmmpphmmmm! Mmmm mmmhmm mhphmmm mmmm mhmmm mmmm mmmmm!”

I thought you might say something like that. You’ve got a very talented tongue, pretty girl. You know what? I think you might be one of those lucky few after all. How does that sound? ‘Adorate dominum’.

“mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMmmmmmmm….”

Good girl.

“ohhhhh, ohhh, fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” Shannon was beginning to regret the blithe confidence that led her to reply to Lincoln’s Tinder message–she was still present in her head, just barely, but she felt floaty and detached from the process of actual thought under the onslaught of the thick cock that stretched her pussy over and over again with every determined thrust. Her eyes kept rolling back until only the whites showed, each new climax hammering her mind with pleasure until her jaw hung slack and her speech became nothing but a string of whimpered obscenities. He was really doing it, she realized. He was really fucking her actual brains out.

“G-guhhh, g-g-g-gAWD, fuck, f-fuck I fuck!” At the time, it just seemed like a figure of speech. Shannon thought it was just an expression, some dude on a hookup app bragging about how good his stroke game was. She swiped right mostly out of idle curiosity and arousal–her regular rotation had been kind of stagnant recently, and she was looking for a new guy to give her the deep-dicking she needed to keep her pussy happy. A profile that promised, ‘My cock is so fucking huge that I will fuck your goddamn brains out and make you beg for more,’ well… she could always ask for a picture before she agreed to meet him. Guys usually liked that.

“hhhHHUHHHHHH, h-h-h-HUUHhhhhh….” And sure enough, Lincoln responded to her message with a picture of a dick that was… okay, yeah, it looked pretty big. He put it next to a beer bottle for perspective, and seeing that russet brown shaft standing up straight and tall, thicker than the neck of the bottle and half an inch longer… well, Shannon wasn’t entirely convinced. She’d had plenty of Tinder hookups who had the equipment but didn’t know how to use it. But she at least felt good enough about him to send him a picture of her with her pale legs spread and two fingers parting her pussy lips. Just to let him know what she was bringing to the table.

“oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck….” But the moment she got to the hotel, she knew things were going to go very differently to her usual sexual encounters. Lincoln met her in the lobby with a warm smile on his face and a bulge in his jeans that she simply couldn’t ignore, and walked her up to the elevators as though he didn’t entirely trust her to be able to stand upright with her brain so thoroughly discombobulated by the promise of so much cock between her legs. Shannon hated to admit it, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“shshshshshiiit, shshshshuuhhhhhh, huhhhhhh, huhhhhhhhhh….” He didn’t show it to her right away. Instead, Lincoln unbuckled his belt and undid his fly, then slipped Shannon’s hand into the waistband of his boxers to feel the girth of his erect cock. The whole time, he was talking dirty to her, pushing up her skirt and teasing her pussy through her panties while telling her all about the slick mess he was going to make of her cunt. By the time they were both finally naked, Shannon had forgotten completely about the handful of condoms in her purse. All she could think about was getting that big dick inside her. All she wanted was to clench around it in orgasm.

“guh, guh, guhhhh… huhhhhh… hhhhhhhh….” And now it was too late for her. Shannon’s last shreds of consciousness had been obliterated by Lincoln’s powerful thrusts, and words were utterly beyond the capacity of her animalistic hindbrain to summon up. All she could do now was ride his cock harder and harder, the shaft coming out of her pussy slick and messy with the musk of her arousal, until she came that last little bit of her mind away and melted into a blank, obedient slut for him. She was cumming her brains out… and surprisingly, Shannon discovered that she didn’t miss them one little bit.

“Please.” Her hand glides smoothly up and down his firm pink shaft as she strokes, lubricated by gush after gush of precum from the tip of his hard cock. She knows he’s close–she can feel him pulsing and throbbing between her fingers, and out of the corner of her eye she notices his balls tightening in arousal and anticipation. But she can’t look away from his stare right now. Her entire field of vision is consumed by his gaze, her every thought swallowed up by the mesmerizing power he holds over her. She knows it will only deepen when he cums on her tits, when he marks her as his property with his semen. But that just makes her more eager to jack him off.

“Please, Master.” When she watches the sequence on camera later, she’ll be amazed at how much faster it moves. To her dazed and hypnotized mind, everything seems to be moving in slow motion, her voice a dreamy sigh of need and desire as she stares up into his deep blue eyes and forgets even to blink. But the woman in the video strokes the man straddling her hips with a hand that’s a blur of motion, and the tone of desperate anticipation turns each plea into a stammering whimper of lust and arousal. The woman on the video knows she’s going to cum when she feels her Master spray her tits and face with his gushing load. The woman performing the act of submission has no idea.

“Please cum, Master. Please.” It’s not the first time she’s done this, but every time feels just as urgent and intense as the day he showed her what it was like to be reduced to mindless obedience in the depths of his stare. The layers upon layers of programming echo and resonate inside her blank, vacant mind, reinforcing each other until she no longer needs to hear him speak to brainwash her. She knows instinctively that his semen is a drug, soaking into her skin and flowing through her bloodstream until it reaches the part of her that craves his control. Satiating it. Satisfying it on a deep, soulful level. Reminding her that she’s owned forever.

“Please cum, please Master, please cum please….” The words are a chant now, no longer delivered with conscious intent but merely a response to the way his face contorts in a last, futile attempt to hold back the tide of his arousal. It’s always her favorite moment, when she watches him struggle to keep his churning balls from releasing a little bit longer, when she knows her pleas are turning him on beyond even his immense capacity for self-control and she’s going to feel all that hot cum jetting over her chest and face and hair and hand and anywhere and everywhere it’s going to go. She loves the surprise of it. She loves the way it makes her his all over again, baptized into submission anew each time. She can’t get enough.

“Please, Master, please cum please cum please c–” The first spray of semen catches her full in the mouth, cutting off her speech with a salty burst of flavor on her tongue that sends her brain directly to climax the instant she’s aware of it. Her cunt throbs even harder as the cum jets across her tits, splatters into her long dark hair, drips onto the sheets, marks everything in front of his penis as his. Especially her, she realizes, feeling the awareness fill her once again as if for the first time. Especially her.

Melissa wandered into the bathroom in a daze, her stare dull and glassy. Absently, she wondered what floor she was on–she only loosely recalled stumbling through the hallways of the hotel, the carpet soft under her bare feet as she numbly walked to the elevator in her underwear, and she had no memory at all of the button she pressed–but the thought fizzled away into irrelevance before she could complete it. She didn’t need to know where she was. Melissa was where she needed to be, and that was all that mattered. “I am called,” she murmured softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. The air was filled with warm water vapor, and Melissa could feel the sultry heat as it made her bra and panties cling to her skin.

The sliding door opened, revealing a blonde Caucasian woman with bright blue eyes and a hungry smile. “Do you know who I am?” she asked, reaching out to caress Melissa’s pale skin without even waiting for an answer. Her hands were soaking wet, and tiny rivulets of water trickled down Melissa’s sensitive flesh wherever they touched. Melissa couldn’t help herself–she stepped closer, heedless of the spray that soaked her body and outlined her stiff nipples underneath the damp fabric of her bra. She wanted to be as close to the stranger as possible. She wanted to press into that embrace, live in the scent of the other woman and sink into her embrace. She didn’t even hear herself answer at first.

When she realized what she’d said–“You are my Mistress”–the words didn’t surprise her at all. They fit perfectly inside her head, locking tightly into her brain as though she’d always been waiting to hear herself whisper them. Of course the blonde woman was her Mistress. She’d called Melissa, after all, reached out with nothing but the power of her will and inexorably tugged Melissa’s limbs into motion without a single word, and Melissa had been unable to resist. How could she argue with that command? How could she ever pretend she had freedom again after experiencing the perfect bliss of total obedience of mind and body? She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. The stranger pulled up Melissa’s bra to expose her tits and the helpless woman eagerly rubbed them against her new Mistress’s soft, wet breasts.

The woman caressed Melissa’s chestnut locks, kissed her passionately and slipped her tongue into Melissa’s open mouth. “I am your Mistress,” she said, not with her busy lips but with a voice that Melissa heard deep inside her brain, and the helpless submissive shuddered with pleasure as the words resonated on a level she couldn’t deny. “I called you and you came.” Melissa nodded mindlessly, her hands moving without conscious intent to caress her Mistress’s thighs and hips and belly. She couldn’t get enough of that perfect body. She wanted to surrender to the force that rewrote her thoughts and desires, and knowing that her ache to be rewritten was itself the product of her conditioning did nothing to abate her lust to be controlled.

“Please,” Melissa murmured, when Mistress finally broke their embrace for a moment. “Please, please take me, Mistress. Take me and fuck me and make me yours.” She knew she was a puppet in that instant, reciting words that had been implanted into her brain by the gifts of the woman ravishing her mind and body, but that only made it hotter. All Melissa wanted now was to be owned… and as the stranger sank to her knees and pulled down Melissa’s soaking panties, she knew that her fondest wish had been granted forever.