Jukebox (Erotic Mind Control Story Writer)

(Crossposted from https://jukeboxemcsa.wordpress.com/2021/09/06/the-commissions-masterpost/)

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 180 eager and enthusiastic Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

One of the more frequent questions I get is, "Do you take commissions?" And the answer has always been "yes, with a few 'buts'," but I've recently made some changes to the way I work that's making it a bit more feasible to plan them out instead of trying to work them into my existing schedule with all the uncertainties that entailed. So with that in mind, I decided to make a post that I could pin at the top of my blog (and my Tumblr page) to answer those questions for anyone who wanted to know. So here goes!

"Oh my gawwwdddd…." Kirsten murmured, the words escaping in an ecstatic sigh as she watched her fist pumping up and down the length of Don's rock hard shaft. "It--it's really going to cum soon? You promise?" She didn't know why it was so important to her to see the pearly jizz fountain up from the tip of the man's penis, any more than she fully understood how she and Ashley wound up on Don's big bed with their swimsuits in a wet heap on the carpet and their faces mere fascinated inches away from the handsome stranger's stiff prick, but there was an itch in the back of her brain and she understood that the only way to satisfy it was to make Don spurt. It felt as true as a compass pointing north to her.

Ashley must have felt the same way, because she was licking Don's balls and grunting like a pig in slop and smiling a dopey, heavy-lidded grin around the stranger's heavy sack. She wasn't exactly verbal, maybe because she'd already been talking to Don for a while when Kirsten walked up or maybe just because it was hard to talk with a pair of testicles halfway into your mouth, but Kirsten could tell exactly what she was thinking because Kirsten was thinking pretty much the same thing. It was going to be fucking amazing when Don shot his load high into the air and they could lick every last drop off his chest and belly. "I promise," Don gasped in response to her words, his voice tight with pleasure, and the implications of his strangled tone made Kirsten pump his shaft that much harder.

And when he was done… Kirsten tried to picture her and Ashley walking back out of Don't bedroom, out of his cozy little house and down the hill to the beach where he found them, but the notion had no gravity behind it and her thoughts instead sank into a reverie of licking and sucking Don until he got hard again so they could milk the cum out of his dick a second time. That second load probably wouldn't make quite as much of a mess, but there'd still be plenty of jizz for her and Ashley to share and maybe they could even get him hard again if they made out sloppy while they licked it up. Kirsten didn't know where her desire for performative lesbianism had come from, any more than she understood why she was suddenly so obsessed with Don's semen, but it all sounded wonderful to her dazed and dopey brain.

She was just about to ask him again whether he was sure he was going to cum for them, because she was so needy even if she couldn't quite make sense as to why, but just then Don let out a strained grunt and pearly liquid jetted up from his cock and all over Kirsten's fingers. Ashley stopped paying attention to his balls and immediately moved her tongue to the head of his penis, lapping away at Don's jizz, but Kirsten wasn't far behind and soon the two of them were competing for every last drop. It wasn't anything like what they'd planned to do together that afternoon, but it felt so much better than anything they might have imagined and already Kirsten was thinking the rest of the vacation might just wind up spent in Don's bedroom. And honestly, did they ever need to go back? It was a question she'd have to ask later… but for now, her mouth was fully occupied.

Melanie didn't find Edwina in the living room. She wasn't in the kitchen either, even though the front door was unlocked and the car was in the driveway and everything pointed to her neighbor being home on a Sunday afternoon as usual, so Melanie kept looking until her feet led her back into the bedroom at the end of the hall and she found--well, she found a lot of things, but one of them was Ginny Laurito from the other end of the block standing at the foot of the bed with an expression of confusion on her face like she didn't quite know how she'd gotten there. And another was Edwina, sitting naked in the easy chair against the far wall with one leg up and one leg down and her cunt on lewd display. And another was….

"What the fuck?" Melanie blurted, unable to control her shock and surprise. Edwina was holding an old-fashioned flashbulb, the kind the older woman used in her photo shoots, and she had a smile on her face as she aimed it in Melanie and Ginny's direction. Melanie recognized it, because of course she did; it was kind of cool to have a real live fashion photographer living on the same street as her, and incredibly flattering to be invited to model for her even if Melanie knew the pictures probably never went any further than Edwina's hard drive. But the nudity made no sense, and neither did the evil little smirk on Edwina's face, and neither did the lost, vacant expression Ginny wore, and she was just about ready to turn and walk right back out but something seemed to be rooting her feet to the floor.

None of it made sense until Edwina murmured, "You say that every time," her voice a sensual growl, and triggered the flashbulb. And then Melanie understood, even though her head actually got much fuzzier and foggier and it became a lot harder to think about anything but the warm, wet throb of lust between her thighs. It had been there the entire time, she realized, because some part of her had always known she was coming here to sink into the flashes whatever she might have believed about wine and cheese and trashy reality shows, but now that her brain was switching off she could pay full attention to it and oh god was it so much stronger than she remembered. Because Melanie never remembered anything about her time in Edwina's bedroom.

Ginny must have already gotten a dose of the trigger, because her expression went from bewildered to blank and she wriggled out of her clothes like they were itchy against her skin, but just seeing the other hypnotized woman's reaction was enough to catch Melanie up on the expectations for the afternoon because she found herself stripping naked too. Another flash and the two of them were panting and whimpering, another one and their fingers were down between their thighs, and another one simply broke whatever notional self-control they might have had and they tumbled onto the bed in a heap of writhing, tangled limbs. That was when Melanie really remembered why she was so weak for Edwina's hypnotic power, because it felt so good to be a lesbian slut and she always walked away sated and smiling when she finally left.

The two of them wound up in their favorite position, making out and rubbing their tits together with Ginny's cunt against Melanie's leg and Melanie humping Ginny's thigh in return, and the whole time Edwina cooed out encouraging praise and played with her pussy and took plenty of pictures of it all. Melanie never thought to wonder where the images wound up, because she never thought about anything that happened in this room once she left it, but she knew she was part of a very special collection. One that included every woman on the street where Edwina lived.

Candy was just walking back to her car, trying to pretend that Pastor Edlund's words had filled her with the Holy Spirit and fortified her soul against temptation for another week, when she walked past Loralee sitting in the driver's seat of her battered old Honda Civic and pretending that she was just about to turn the key in the ignition. Candy looked at Loralee, Loralee looked at Candy looking at Loralee, and then Loralee scooped her big soft cow titties right out of her sundress like wearing a bra to church was its own kind of sin and jiggled them invitingly in Candy's direction.

And of course Candy just sort of coasted to a stop, inertia carrying her feet another few steps even as her head turned to stare at those huge, pale breasts capped by broad, soft, pink nipples right about the size of Candy's mouth. The redhead felt her lips parting in… oh, it was memory, it was anticipation, it was lust and desire and mesmerized fascination because despite hearing all those lectures about resisting temptation Candy always forgot the rest of the world existed when she saw Loralee's tits. She told herself she shouldn't, she told herself she had to get home because there were always chores to do and she didn't stop being a dutiful daughter just because she was all grown up, but every other voice in her head gradually hushed until the only thing Candy was listening to was the throb in her soaking cunt.

And Loralee knew it, too. The pretty blonde let out a little giggle once she knew she had Candy's full attention, and reached over to ostentatiously unlock her car doors so Candy could get in. And before it even happened, Candy knew with the conviction of a falling anchor that she was going to get in that car, and they were going to drive over to the empty parking lot behind the grocery store because old Mister Rafferty always closed on Sundays and the hardware store blocked the view from the street, and Candy was going to suck on Loralee's titties until she was grunting and mewling and humping the air because Loralee's big boobs just drove her wild like that. It was a vision every bit as real as the ones the prophets Candy had been hearing about were getting, even if it probably came from a very different source.

She turned, sleepwalking her way back around to the passenger side of Loralee's car, and the moment she got in her panties slid off and her legs spread wide. Loralee put her tits away and started the car, and they pulled out of the parking lot together, and the second she was in drive Loralee's hand went off the gearshift and onto Candy's sopping wet pussy. "That's a good girl," she purred, and Candy's clit twitched at that--she didn't know from B or D or S or M, anymore than she knew about hypnosis, but she knew she always got hot and bothered when Loralee called her a good girl and she always got kind of dopey and dumb whenever her mind started narrowing down to Loralee's fingers teasing her cunt. And that was happening right now.

Sure enough, they wound up in the parking lot again, with Candy's modest skirt hiked up around her waist and Loralee's arm stretched out so her fingers could explore Candy's cooch--not that it was exploring anymore, she had a pretty good map of the territory by now and knew all of Candy's favorite spots. And Candy was, well, she was sucking on Loralee's big cow titties the way she always did, with her brain switched off and her pussy tingling and everything just feeling so right, and a week of temptation started off the same way it always did. And Candy knew she'd find plenty of excuses to bump into her old friend from high school and deepen her surrender.

"You can see now why I wanted you to listen, can't you?" Joan asked… but Diana's attention was diverted by the earbud in her other ear and it was hard for her to fully concentrate on the brunette's words so she just nodded vacantly because it was easier. The sound was hard to qualify, but it had elements of post-punk synthesizer and goth rock and a weird little fillip of bubblegum pop in its earwormy chorus and the record executive was already thinking about how to promote it. That felt so immediately and intuitively important that she barely even noticed the nightclub owner's hands tugging on the hem of her skirt.

That tiny distraction vanished when Diana raised her hips slightly, allowing the garment to slide right off, and her unthinking decision was rewarded when Joan reached down and began to rub her pussy through the thin fabric of her underwear. "It's that lead singer," Joan purred, her tone sultry and seductive but not nearly as enticing as the woman Diana heard within the music. "She's just got such a sexy voice, doesn't she? You listen to every song absolutely aching to fuck her. You'd do absolutely anything to bend over and let her rail you with a strap-on from the very first note." That wasn't how Diana would have put it--she was about as straight as straight could be, much to Joan's perpetual disappointment--but once the idea entered her head Diana found that it wouldn't leave.

"They're not signed to anybody, Di," Joan purred seductively, her fingers punctuating every word and phrase with a firm pressure directly over Diana's throbbing clit. "They're looking for a deal, and of course I immediately thought of you. I knew you'd take good care of them, make sure their sound got to all the right people and get them played on the radio and in arena tours and just… just fucking everywhere, Di, because everyone deserves to hear this. Every woman needs to hear this. Every woman needs to--to--" Joan's voice broke off in a strangled gasp, and it sounded almost like the mere thought of promoting this new band was giving her an orgasm but Diana couldn't think too hard about that because her cunt was spasming in climax too. And the woman singing seemed to encourage every last bit of their lesbian lust.

Diana had a wet spot on her panties by the time the first song was over, but there was a second waiting right there to replace it and that one was somehow even catchier than the first. Diana could tell this was going to go straight into all her daily playlists, replacing her old exercise mix and her old cleaning mix and even the mix she used when she had her lover over, although of course he'd need to be replaced as well because there was no way Diana could be interested in a man anymore. She wanted the soft, sensual touch of a woman now, forever, and she was so grateful when Joan posed her on all fours on the sofa and tugged her panties down to her knees.

"This is the sound for a new generation," the club owner growled, a touch of cultish devotion in her voice, and Diana's eyes glazed over so completely in vacant acceptance that she didn't even notice what was happening behind her. Until she felt a thick shaft pushing into her wet cunt, and discovered that the music was an even more perfect accompaniment to getting fucked than she'd ever imagined. Diana moaned, pushing her hips back against the strap-on, and together the two of them descended even deeper into perfect surrender to the music in their heads.

Eileen's mouth was… well, it was kind of like a cunt, wasn't it? That was an odd thought to have, but then again it was kind of an odd situation to be in. She was down on her knees in front of Liam, her eyes heavy-lidded with lust as she stared at his erect penis, and every second her lips got closer and closer to the head of his stiff prick while she listened to his low soothing voice and let his actual words fade into the background. And the more she stared, and the drowsier she became, the more it occurred to her that her mouth was a lot like a slick, dripping pussy that needed to be fucked.

She could almost picture the similarities in her mind, thinking of her lips as a pair of labia and her tongue as a big clit just waiting to be rubbed to orgasm by a thrusting cock, and if Eileen heard herself grunting in agreement with the notion she couldn't say she consciously even thought of the idea as coming from anywhere but inside her own head. It just felt so natural, so intuitive and obvious and true, that by the time her mouth slid down onto Liam's dick she didn't question it at all. She felt a deep and fundamental conviction settling onto her, locking her into the true belief that her face was made to be fucked, and it didn't even come as a shock to her when she experienced a surge of intense and powerful pleasure as Liam's prick pushed down her throat. He was fucking her cunt, after all. Her other cunt. That was supposed to feel good.

It felt exactly as good as she imagined, but then again Eileen had always possessed a very vivid imagination and the gushing ecstasy filled up her mind every bit as completely as Liam's prick filled up her mouthcunt. Her imagination had always been one of her greatest gifts, in fact, and Liam had spent ages complimenting her on it, and even though they'd met only an hour or two ago Eileen felt like they'd known each other for years. He was just so warm, and comforting, and friendly, and he knew how easily she drifted off into that dreamy world of pure fantasy, and it seemed only natural for their intimacy to culminate with her kissing his balls over and over again with every thrust of his potent, dominating cock. Eileen's other cunt throbbed and leaked in a climax that happened without her even touching it, and she understood exactly why.

It was because her mouthcunt was needier, that was all. Her mouthcunt was always desperate to be filled, stuffed right down to the throat with stiff hard cock, and it got so wet and leaky when Liam fucked it that Eileen could feel the drool running down her chin. She was such a lucky girl to have two holes that could feel this much intense pleasure, and Eileen instantly understood both that she would let Liam and his friends fuck her face whenever they wanted and that she would feel so much better with a second man behind her plowing her other cunt while she went down on the first. Eileen could picture it perfectly, her face forced onto one dick by the thrusts of the other, and it only gradually dawned on her that this wasn't imagination at all. This was Liam's friend Terry, pulling her pants down and fucking her from behind, and Eileen's orgasms multiplied into rapt and helpless ecstasy as she let herself be shared.

The first sign that Nora's romantic evening wasn't going to go as planned was when her boyfriend walked into the bedroom, his eyes rolled so far back in his head that only the whites were showing but somehow still able to navigate his surroundings with a sinister, infallible grace, and fixed her with his sightless stare. Unfortunately for Nora, that left her with approximately 0.73 seconds before he let out a low, guttural moan that seemed to harmonize with itself in an entirely unnatural manner, and she felt her brain bombarded with a whole series of emotional impressions that hit her on a level deeper than words could possibly reach.

That wasn't to say she didn't put words to them--they flashed through her brain in a whole series of mental images as her brain desperately tried to vocabularize concepts that came straight up from her limbic system to wrap themselves around her instantly helpless frontal lobe. 'WEAK', she found herself thinking, followed by 'INFECTED', followed by 'OVERWHELMED' and 'PLEASURE' in rapid succession, and Nora didn't even have a chance to catch up to the stream of ideas colonizing her head before her hands jammed themselves down the front of her leggings and began to furiously rub her slick pussy. She hadn't exactly dressed up for their encounter, knowing that her boyfriend was going to take her clothes off pretty early on, but even the bare level of coordination required to pull her pants down was out of reach now and she simply fell forward onto the mattress.

The words continued behind her eyes, each one accompanied by a surge of ecstasy so intense that it practically shattered her feeble mind. She was 'CORRUPTED', then 'INFECTED' again, then 'POWERLESS', then 'OVERWHELMED', and all of them felt like such fucking wonderful things to be that she didn't even have a chance to conceive of what resistance would look like for her before that resistance was utterly destroyed. Nora lay there, staring at her boyfriend's twitching cock, listening to that unnatural growling moan and not even fantasizing about sex with him because this felt better than sex and made her into a braying slut so much faster. The words cycled through her head, returning again to 'CORRUPTED' and 'PLEASURE', and although 'MELT' and 'LEAK' soon made their way into the endless rotation she was almost past the point of understanding by then.

She grunted and moaned, humping her own rubbing fingers as climax after climax accompanied 'BLANK' and 'INFECTED', and if she'd understood what she was succumbing to or how completely she was succumbing to it then Nora would have been utterly terrified. But as it was she went dumb and empty too fast for fear to affect her, and soon her grunts and moans began to synchronize with the endless drone coming from her boyfriend's lips. The orgasms smoothed out into a single continuous pulse of pleasure, fucking her brain into total submission that never ceased, and the final sign of her changed priorities came when her face went from contorting in ecstasy to slackening into expressionless vacancy. Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and Nora simply disappeared from her own mind. And like her boyfriend, she stripped naked and went to look for fresh victims to infect and enslave.

"I'm sorry," Leon murmured, pulling all the way out so Bianca's cunt clenched and twitched in useless, futile desperation in the absence of his cock. "You were saying something about wearing a condom?" The tip of his prick was dripping precum, and Bianca watched it with an abstract sense of concern that was almost entirely drowned out by the throb in her needy, swollen clit--she was a sex-ed teacher, volunteering at community centers and area schools, she knew that part of the reason the pull-out method was so ineffective was because pre-ejaculate fluid could contain sperm, and there was a chance Leon had already impregnated her without even cumming inside her. It was important to… to tell him to… to make sure he….

It was no good. Bianca's brain was practically mush, and she had a vacant tone of stupefied lust to her voice as she mumbled, "Um… I forgot," before reaching down to wrap her hand around Leon's dick and guide him back into her soaking cunt. She knew she was acting exactly like the kind of person she talked about in her lectures, making decisions in the heat of the moment that would come back to haunt her, but the way Leon's cock filled her up made the memories of all those lectures fade away into distant irrelevance until the only thing on her mind was getting fucked. Even picturing herself with a swollen belly and big milky tits trying to tell people about the importance of contraception only made Bianca feel delightfully naughty in her desire to milk her lover's balls.

Leon chuckled, growling, "That's right, teach, you forgot," and Bianca's cunt squeezed hard around his thrusting prick as the condescension in his voice made her cum just as much as the physical stimulation. Bianca could feel her brains leaking out of her pussy with every stroke, making her into a braying, mewling slut the same as all those teenage girls Bianca privately derided, and her legs wrapped around Leon's hips to pull him as deep as humanly possible into her sopping snatch. She'd always thought the tales about ovulation making a woman extra horny were myths and nonsense, but somehow it sounded different when Leon explained it to her and she couldn't imagine craving anything more than his big dick inside her.

He was fucking her harder now, snarling, "That's it, honey, get ready for it," and Bianca let out a tiny whimper as the last little part of her that understood what was happening sagged into helpless defeat. Whatever resistance she had was no match for Leon's hypnotic talents, his stroke game, his total sexual domination, and all her boasts about self-control and willpower differentiating her from those knocked-up sluts she saw at the clinic were exposed as the hollow lie they'd always truly been. Anyone could wind up too dumb and horny to stop themselves from getting pregnant, even an expert on the subject, and Bianca was about to get filled up with an absolute torrent of spunk that would easily find purchase in her fertile womb.

And god, did that make their sex even better. Bianca's eyes rolled back in her head in another massive climax as Leon finally unloaded, and she already knew he'd be keeping her close to make sure she didn't get any bright ideas until the baby was well and truly on its way.

"I can't help but notice that you let me tie your wrists together," Michael said mildly, as though they were just discussing the weather and his fingers weren't busily sawing in and out of Aurora's wet cunt. "That's kind of curious, don't you think? I mean, you struggled, yes, but you didn't start struggling until I already had your hands bound and the ropes looped around that little hook on the side of the coffee table. The one you asked me about, Rory. Isn't that kind of curious?" Rory didn't answer. She couldn't, not with a strip of duct tape covering her lips and her panties jammed into her mouth.

"And your clothes," Michael continued, his voice bland and pleasant and yet somehow easily audible over the sound of Aurora's muffled grunts. "I mean, yes, I did cut them off you with a pair of fabric scissors, and yes, you did kind of beg me to stop, but--well, it is kind of interesting that you came over to my apartment wearing the cheapest, most disposable outfit you have, isn't it? And they're all new clothes, too. Almost like you bought them knowing they were going to get shredded and tossed in the trash by the time the night was over." Aurora's brow furrowed as she tried to remember her exact process in selecting her clothes, or even just her reason for the visit, but Michael was finger-fucking her very hard and it made holding onto a train of thought something of a struggle.

"And I mean, it wasn't like you worked very hard to stop me, even with your hands trapped like that," he chuckled, sounding more like he'd just read a particularly amusing joke in Reader's Digest than he did like someone who was pistoning two fingers in and out of his neighbor's sopping pussy. "You didn't yell, even though the walls in this building are pretty thin and someone would probably have heard you, and you didn't kick out at me--you just sort of wriggled and whimpered while I bound your thighs to your calves and tied your legs to the corners of the coffee table to display your cunt to me. What do you think that says about you, Rory, hmm? What does that tell us about where your head is at?"

He lapsed into an expectant silence, one broken only by the sloppy squishing noises of two fingers pumping in and out of a cunt so wet it was dripping onto the floor, but of course Rory could only mewl and whine through her panties so he was forced to continue. "I think it tells me that your deep self wants to be my bound and helpless slut. I think the hypnotic suggestions found something powerful all the way down in the center of your subconscious mind that craves to be dominated, and when I told you what was going to happen the next time you came over you got so wet and horny that you didn't even try to fight it. I think you only forget what happens when you're here because it makes you feel that much more weaker to be surprised by your submission, and you're just going to repeat this surrender again and again for me until you're totally mine. Don't you?"

Rory still couldn't talk. But she could nod, meekly and submissively with her eyes unable to meet his gaze, and that's exactly what happened as she felt another orgasm rip through her brain.

"I, um… I have kind of a problem," Gilly mumbled, practically swallowing her words in her efforts to keep quiet so no one else in the sorority would hear her. It was late at night, and she was out in the hallway even though the door to Miss Nance's room hung open, and she didn't want to make a big disturbance because the problem she had was personal and intimate and she'd die of embarrassment if anyone other than the… the housing director, she thought, stumbling over the colloquial phrase 'sorority mom' even in the privacy of her own head… ever heard about it.

Miss Nance sat up in her bed, her sheet sliding away to reveal a pair of pendulous breasts that immediately caught and held Gilly's gaze, and favored her with a sympathetic smile. "Well, why don't you come in and tell me all about it," she murmured, her voice as soft and sweet as the nectar of a pitcher plant, and she slid the covers aside completely to expose her nude body and patted a spot on the mattress right between her spread legs. Gilly couldn't help letting out a quiet, chuffing grunt of arousal, and she felt like she was moving underwater when she stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her before slipping out of her robe to walk naked to another woman's bed.

"It's, um, I'm--I've got these, uh, urges," she muttered, and she felt the oddest sense of familiarity as the words escaped her lips--it was almost like she'd heard them before, like there was a script inside her head that she didn't know about until she spoke the words and discovered she was really only reciting and not thinking for herself. Her legs spread wider and wider the more she tried to think about it, and she was acutely aware of the warmth of Miss Nance's bare breasts against her back, and she struggled to remember exactly why she thought it would be a good idea to come and talk to her sorority m--to her housing director about a bad case of wet pussy but then the other woman hooked her ankles around Gilly's knees and everything inside her head got mushy.

"Well, I think it's a good thing you came to me, dear," Miss Nance purred, putting her left arm around Gilly with her hand resting squarely on Gilly's breasts and reaching down with her right arm to caress Gilly's slick and messy cunt. "I know you girls get that kind of urge sometimes, and it's so nice to know you trust me enough to bring that kind of problem to me so I can make it all better." She pressed hard over Gilly's clit to emphasize certain words, and already Gilly could feel herself dropping into a kind of fugue state as the arousal she'd been fighting all night simply reared its head and swallowed Gilly's mind whole. She couldn't make herself think, only feel, and it felt so good to listen and obey.

But it only fully clicked into place when Miss Nance cooed, "Mommy always makes it better, doesn't she, sweetie?" and Gilly let out a strangled whine of pure ecstasy as she came on the older woman's fingers. She was being trained, she realized, hypnotized and conditioned and programmed to obey, and she knew she wasn't alone in her submission because she'd seen the other women in her sorority walking out of Miss Nance's bedroom with their faces flushed and their eyes glassy. But she always forgot, because her brainwashing made it easy to forget, and she was going to end this night forgetting everything all over again beyond the unswayable conviction that she needed to be a good girl for her sorority mom.

"Ramona, this is my wife Betty," George said, gesturing in her direction with an affectionate smile that she readily returned. "Betty, this is Ramona, my new personal assistant, she's just here to discuss the requirements of her new job and also to fuck me. You don't mind, do you?" Certainly it looked like Ramona minded, at least for a moment; Betty watched as a flicker of shock and uncertainty passed across her face only to be replaced by a kind of dopey placidity that reminded Betty a bit of the golden retriever she had as a child. Betty rolled her eyes a little bit, but she knew better than to argue with George when he was set on something, and judging by the way his cock was bulging in his trousers he was definitely set on this.

So she slid over a little on the sofa to make room, and George slid his pants down and stepped out of them before sitting next to her. Ramona looked like she didn't know what to do with her hands at first; her fingers fluttered uncertainly before hooking themselves into the waistband of her skirt and shrugging it off her hips to fall to the floor in a puddle of loose fabric, and the blonde's crisply starched blouse soon followed. She stood there in nothing but bra and panties, the light behind her eyes sputtering and fading into amiable silence, and finally she got totally naked. "You can see why I hired her, sweetie," George murmured, giving Betty a conspiratorial grin.

She could, of course, even though she felt a twinge of envy as she watched Ramona settle onto her husband's stiff prick with a sigh of vacant ecstasy. Ramona was an incredibly pretty young woman, and she had tits that bounced and shook and jiggled like some kind of pornstar slut as she rocked her hips up and down in George's lap. Plus she was obviously far more susceptible to hypnosis than Betty--not that Betty was especially wide awake at the moment, and she realized with a kind of bemused detachment that she was wriggling out of her own clothing so she could masturbate to the sight of her husband having sex with another woman in the middle of their living room, but she could never reach that kind of pure mindless depth that made George's cock truly throb. It was the only problem in an otherwise perfect marriage.

But George had found a solution the way he always did, and Betty had fallen into the habit of acceptance the way she always did, and naturally Ramona wasn't going to be objecting with her brain switched off and her cunt stuffed with cock. So Betty could just stay in a light trance and tease her pussy lips, secure in the knowledge that her husband's high sex drive meant he'd be able to get it up again even after flooding Ramona's snatch with hot sticky cum, and she let any questions of why she'd agreed to all this so readily fall out of her head. It wasn't important to think about those things, after all. She was a good wife and she wanted her husband to be happy. And if it just so happened that what made him downright overjoyed was cucking his wife right in front of her, well… she wasn't going to say no, was she? Not when it felt so good to obey. Betty rubbed herself harder, watching in rapt fascination as Ramona threw her head back in the throes of overwhelming pleasure and sank deeper for her Master.

"You came here to tell me something. Didn't you." Amanda's inflection made it clear that it was a command and not a question, whatever the syntax of the words might suggest, and Abby felt a powerful twinge of arousal between her thighs as she slipped off the robe she'd worn for the short walk down the hall to her neighbor's apartment and displayed her body to the older woman. She'd woken up this morning with a newfound sense of clarity and purpose, a sense of helpless desire that told her once and for all that her inner submissive had finally won, and she was excited to tell Amanda exactly what she knew Amanda wanted to hear.

Even so, she felt that weird, top-of-the-rollercoaster exhilaration that bordered on fear as she murmured, "Yes, ma'am, I belong to you, ma'am," and her hands went up to cup her small, pale breasts and stiff pink nipples. There was just something so intense about experiencing this moment in reality instead of only fantasy, of watching as Amanda slid off her chair to sit down at Abby's feet and pull her lacy black panties over to the side to explore Abby's cunt with her fingers. Abby had been dreaming and daydreaming about this, imagining this exact sequence of events every time she masturbated for months now, and she didn't even know anymore where her hypnotic conditioning ended and her lesbian crush began but it didn't matter anymore because after this they would be one and the same.

Amanda dredged her finger through the slick channel between Abby's pussy lips and licked it clean with a triumphant smile on her ever so slightly flushed cheeks. "And why do you belong to me, pretty girl?" she asked, before repeating the gesture with the new gush of arousal that leaked down to replace what she'd wiped away--Abby felt like she'd been almost continuously wet for months now, ever since that first night when Amanda hypnotized away her stress and exhaustion and she'd found herself unaccountably aroused by the notion of putting herself into another woman's power, and it was no surprised to her that her cunt was a soaking mess when Amanda examined it. She was honestly surprised she wasn't dripping onto the floor.

"Because you… you hypnotized me," Abby heard herself say, the response coming easily and effortlessly to her after so many repetitions of the files her neighbor had sent her. They'd danced around this moment for ages, with Amanda's seductive flirting gradually becoming more and more dominant and her hypnosis more and more interwoven into the fabric of Abby's daily existence, and even though she couldn't remember most of her trances anymore Abby was pretty sure the confession of her crush came before the recordings specifically made to reinforce it. Abby knew what was in those files, and she knew she had a choice whether she wanted to listen or not… but the first time she came to the sound of Amanda's voice, she knew that choice was really no choice at all because she wanted to much of what the older woman offered. That was when tonight came into focus for her, even though she held back because she knew--

"Good girl," Amanda purred, sliding three fingers directly into Abby's clenching cunt and breaking her train of thought off mid-sentence. But the knowledge remained, even as Abby shuddered and moaned and squeezed her nipples until it was almost painful for her new owner. This was the point of no return, the last moment where her free will would ever have a chance to assert itself in the face of her own desires and Amanda's hypnotic control, and the most exciting thing about it all was how little Abby even cared. She wanted this, she'd wanted it even before the idea was planted in her head, and now that she was cumming Abby was certain she was going to belong to Amanda forever.

Tina put the key in the ignition and tried to turn it, but it resolutely refused to move and she gave a long, embarrassed sigh. This was always the most humiliating part of her drive to work each morning, having to prove that she was clear-headed enough to get behind the wheel, and it was with no small amount of reluctance that she took out her phone and huffed a breath onto the screen and brought up the special website that would unlock the vehicle's special security circuit. The… what did her husband call it? The Hornometer? Hornalyzer? Whatever it was, she clearly failed it because the website said, in bulky red letters on a black background, 'NO. YOU ARE TOO HORNY TO DRIVE RIGHT NOW.'

She honestly wasn't sure which was more mortifying, the fact that she failed the test for the fifth day in a row this week or the fact that her arousal had become such a regular part of the background radiation of her existence that she didn't even notice it until she stared at the stark text and finally felt the stirring lust drifting up from her leaky pussy. Tina squirmed her way out of her slacks, knowing there was really only one way to get back into a headspace suitable for operating a motor vehicle, and she sank down in her seat before shoving two fingers into her sopping cunt because their driveway was just off a fairly busy street and she'd be even more embarrassed if someone saw her masturbating.

But it really was the only way, unfortunately. Her husband had explained it to her, during one of those long droning lectures of his that always ended with Tina struggling to make sense of his words while her head drooped and her eyelids fluttered and she wished she could just stop paying attention and drift off to sleep the way she craved so badly. Tina had a needy cunt that constantly craved stimulation, just continuously wet and horny and desperate for climax, and if she didn't make sure it was fully sated before she left the house she might find herself getting out-of-control slutty in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic and wind up jilling off while driving. And obviously that wasn't safe for anyone. It was better to allow herself extra time to get to work, and use that time to finger-fuck herself to get all that arousal out.

Only it felt like it was getting harder every day. Tina jilled off as soon as she woke up, she jilled off in the shower, she even jilled off last thing before she got her clothes on so her husband could get a nice long look and see that she was doing her level best to satisfy that constant, pleasurable ache between her thighs… and yet the Hornalyzer said she was too wet and needy to drive without another series of orgasms. God, it was like she was some kind of slutaholic or something. Not for the first time, Tina considered simply quitting her job so she didn't have to deal with this mortifying ritual every morning, but something inside her clung to a tattered wisp of basic dignity and she tried her best to keep going even though she knew they could get by on just one income. Plus whatever she could make if she decided to do porn the way her husband encouraged.

Eventually Tina felt her cunt clench around her fingers once, twice, three times in fairly rapid succession, and she was ready to give the Hornalyzer another try. This time she used the camera on her phone to take a picture of her creamy, sated pussy, and once she did she found herself able to turn the key in the ignition easily. She got her clothes back on and headed to work… although she could already tell from the way her panties clung to her slick labia that she was going to need to do this again before she could go home.

"Suh… Sabrina?" The moment Emily spoke, she knew it was a mistake--Sabrina didn't react to the sound of her voice, at least not in any way Emily could see, but the handsome Black man who was busily fucking her face turned to look at Emily and something in his eyes made her realize she was about to wind up just like her prone and stupefied friend. The costume Sabrina wore was mostly on the floor, and Sabrina kept staring cross-eyed and befuddled at the cock halfway down her throat, and Emily knew her well enough to know that none of this was normal for her. Which meant this man, this stranger was somehow able to manipulate her into--

She didn't even finish the thought before the man pulled out of Sabrina's mouth and sprang across the room in three swift strides to put his right hand on top of Emily's head while his left hand gripped her wrist. "You must be Emily," he said, beginning to swing her arm from side to side while he rotated her head in small, lazy circles, gently but firmly until her entire body began to feel like a doll being played with. "She told me about you, she said you were weak and drowsy, weak and drowsy and limp and just look into my eyes and SLEEP." He yanked her forward as he intoned the final word, and Emily's overwhelmed brain took in the massive amount of multi-sensory stimulation in a single flood and simply collapsed into his arms as it all became too much for her. She sagged into his grip, and from there he took her and pulled her limp form over to the bed where Sabrina waited for them.

"Eyes open, still deep," he growled, and Emily's eyelids fluttered open to find that her new supine position on the rug gave her a unique perspective on Sabrina's sloppy blowjob. She could see the thick shaft sliding back into her best friend's mouth, watch it pushing in and out as the stranger towered over her heavy, immobile body, and notice every detail of the way his balls quivered and bounced with every urgent thrust. Sabrina's tits hung over the edge of the bed, her puffy pink nipples broad and stiff, and Emily discovered there was something so fascinating about the entire tableau to her hypnotized mind that she couldn't stir herself from her trance enough to really think about what was happening. Every time she tried, the motion simply captivated her, and even the spattering of drool that landed on Emily's forehead every few seconds wasn't enough to wake her now.

"Deeper and deeper, deeper and… nnhhh… deeper," the man chanted, and Emily's lips moved thoughtlessly to recite the words right along with him. She felt impossibly passive, weak and drowsy and helpless, and what made her even more vulnerable was the knowledge that he could have put her on the bed and she would have swallowed his cock the same as Sabrina. He chose to place her beneath them, though, to demonstrate to her just how subordinate she was in the new hierarchy they'd established, and Emily sighed languidly in the sure and certain knowledge that her friend wasn't going to be able to swallow their Master's entire load. It was going to gush out of her mouth and onto Emily's face, cementing her subjugation once and for all… and to her shock and dismay, Emily realized she was looking forward to receiving it.