"Show me." The words are intoned with an air of calm command that make it absolutely impossible for Anne to resist, and she tugs her skirt down to the floor without a moment's hesitation before leaning against the wall to display her slick pussy to Vadim's gaze. She pulls up her shirt, revealing that she went without a bra as well as panties, and her fingers then drift down to rub her clit with the desperate enthusiasm of a woman who knows that someone could come down the stairs at any moment and find her with her legs slightly bent and her cunt fully exposed. She can't get dressed again until she cums, and even though just the threat of being discovered makes her unbelievably wet she still needs to work her way up to climax.

Vadim chuckles at the sight of her needy expression, coaxing her deeper into pleasure by asking, "My little slut really couldn't stop herself, could she?" It's a shameful admission to make, and Anne's cheeks redden into a furious blush as she nods and whimpers, but hearing the tone of affectionate contempt in her Master's voice only makes Anne's pussy that much wetter as she rubs her swollen, throbbing clit closer and closer to the climax she so desperately needs for so many reasons. Anne knows it's more than the hypnosis that makes her so susceptible to Vadim's suggestions, just like it's more than the brainwashing that makes her so eager to degrade herself for him. He's tapped into something that was always there, something that was yearning to find expression like water pushing its way into a crack in the surface of a dam, and now that she's learned the truth about herself she can't even want to resist.

He walks up to her, pinching and teasing her aching nipples, and Anne lets out a strangled yelp that doesn't do her worries about being caught any good. "Oh, you're such a sensitive girl!" he chuckles, and Anne marvels at his self-control like a dog might appreciate its owner's skill with a can opener. She knows that if their positions were reversed, if it was her standing there with an erection straining at the fabric of her trousers and him helplessly, submissively masturbating she'd never be able to stop herself from fucking him until they were both little more than rutting, gasping beasts… but Vadim simply watches her jilling off, and she knows he'll always have more power over his lusts than her. Which makes her pussy twitch that much harder under her rubbing fingers, because Anne secretly loves the notion of being a slave to her own insatiable desire.

She finally realizes just how close she is when she hears herself whispering, "Please Master, please let me cum, Master, oh please oh fuck I need it so bad please please please," and it astonishes her as always just how completely her responses depend on his hypnotic control. If he didn't give her permission, Anne knows she would stand there leaning against the wall with her pussy leaking down her thighs and a constant, desperate whine on her lips for as long as it took to please him, but thankfully he's in a generous mood when they're out in public like this and he gives her a single nod that triggers a gunshot-quick orgasm. Then she darts for her skirt, released from her compulsions… and she just barely manages to pull it up over her bare ass before someone comes down the stairs and she has to pretend she's not still flushed and shaking with the aftermath of her release.

"I--um--you, you can't do that." Nell's voice sounded anesthetized in her own ears, her protests little more than feeble murmurs, and she found herself unable to really do anything to stop Jezzie as the statuesque redhead reached in under the hem of Nell's powder blue sundress and hooked her fingers into the waistband of Nell's panties. She had a vague sense of embarrassment, a kind of loose and muzzy understanding that this wasn't something she was supposed to be letting another woman do to her and if someone walked in on them it would be scandalous… but none of her emotions had any real urgency, and it seemed so much easier to simply slump back against the fridge and focus her energies on keeping her drooping eyelids open.

Jezzie didn't make it any easier for Nell to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head when she rubbed directly over Nell's clit with two fingers and murmured, "There's a wet spot here, dearie. I think that means you're going to let me do any damned thing I want." Nell's hands clenched and unclenched uselessly, struggling and failing to avoid inextricably associating the sound of Jezzie's husky contralto with the warm swells of pleasure fuzzing her mind even deeper into trance, and she knew instinctively that she wasn't going to be able to lever herself out of this state of placid hypnotic ecstasy without help. And since Jezzie seemed interested in doing pretty much anything but helping, she'd need to hope someone walked in on them despite the potential for embarrassment it carried.

But nobody did. Jezzie knelt there for several long moments, rubbing and teasing until Nell's slick cunt saturated the fabric of her panties with musk and the wet spot grew bigger and bigger, the whole time cooing, "Oh, sweetie. How long has it been since you've been touched like this, hmm? How long has it been since someone's made you really feel like a naughty little slut who can't get enough?" Nell wanted to say she wasn't interested in feeling like a naughty little slut, but the more she focused on the throb between her legs the more notional the objection became and soon she was just leaning back with her eyes squeezed shut and soft, liquid moans of pleasure on her lips. It was awfully hard to argue against this with her mind so blank and empty and aroused. She couldn't pretend she wasn't enjoying this when she kept humping Jezzie's fingers.

Finally Jezzie pulled the panties down and off entirely, letting Nell's skirt fall back down and bringing the sheer fabric up to her nose for a long, theatrical sniff. "You can ask for these back at the end of the night," she chuckled, watching as Nell's eyelids slowly fluttered open and she reluctantly adjusted her brain to the notion that the pleasure had finally stopped. "You come to me after everyone's gone home, and you get down on your knees and beg me to give them back to you, and I'll see if I'm feeling generous or if I'll make you earn them. But until then I think you're just going to have to feel the breeze on that pretty pussy and remember just how easily you lost yourself to me." She spun the blonde away from the fridge and gave her a playful swat on the ass, pushing her back out in the direction of the party, and a discombobulated Nell staggered back out with her eyes still glassy and unfocused, unable to stop herself from fantasizing about what might happen when the evening was over.

"I expect you're probably wondering how it was done," Edward chuckled, although in truth Sara was goggling in such stunned amazement at the sight of her best friend sucking on their professor's cock with reverent adoration that the only thing she could really notice was the thatch of dark brown hair framing Bethany's gaping cunt and the proof it finally provided. Bethany had always insisted she was a natural blonde, it had become almost a running joke between them, but now the joke was over and all it took was getting hypnotized to spread her legs and paw at her slick pussy while her lips bobbed up and down on the shaft in her mouth. It felt so absurd that Sara wanted to laugh and scream at the same time.

She distantly realized she wasn't answering, and even more distantly realized it was probably a mistake to just sit and stare while Edward intoned, "It's all simply a matter of finding the right focus to attract attention and the proper reward for the desired behavior," but by this point everything seemed to be so bizarre and absurd and utterly unmoored from reality that she couldn't seem to make herself react properly to anything. Her emotions were too big to process, and it was easier to let them drift off somewhere high overhead while she sank down into her chair and watched Edward's cock disappear into Bethany's mouth all the way up to the root. She became slowly aware of a warm, wet pulse of pleasure between her thighs, booming in time with Bethany's ceaseless rubbing, but she couldn't make herself do anything about it.

"Pleasure is such a strong motivator, you see," Edward purred, his voice silky smooth and infinitely seductive in Sara's ears, and she found herself nodding along as if this was nothing more than another psychology lecture she was struggling to stay awake for. "We all enjoy feeling good, and if you have permission to sink into that pleasure and do whatever comes naturally then of course you're going to be grateful to the person who's allowing you to have those big, strong doses of utter bliss. When I say, 'You have permission to rub,' you know exactly what happens, don't you, Sara?" She saw Bethany's fingers speed up, but it was mostly out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze was still fixated on that languidly thrusting cock, and she barely even noticed her own hand moving to duplicate Bethany's motions.

"That's a good girl," Edward cooed, and Sara's eyes closed in a long, slow, sleepy blink as she struggled to understand what was happening to her and found it was just so much easier not to think at all. If she didn't think, she didn't have to wonder what her fingers were doing, and she didn't have to wonder why her body was so heavy apart from her right hand that she simply couldn't make herself rise out of her chair. All those big emotions, all those strong feelings of lust and excitement and anxiety and confusion and wild absurd hilarity could just wander off, leaving her calm and placid and utterly aroused once her eyes finally opened again. Edward said, "You have permission to undress, too," and it sounded so nice to Sara that she didn't even wonder why her lethargic muscles instantly leapt into action to follow her professor's commands. She did as she was told, and settled back into her seat to stare vacantly at the friend whose obedience she was rapidly coming to emulate.

"I, um, I just have to edge more, that's all," Ericka muttered, although Josie could see her friend's fingers coming away slick and messy every time they slid between the soft pink labia and her voice had the slurred, sleepy quality of someone intoxicated almost to the point of insensibility. "M-Master explained it all to me, there's, like, this place you get to once you get past all the neediness and stuff where your mind gets clear again and everything makes sense, and if I find it I… I'll understand. But if I stop now, I'll never find it. You get why I can't stop, don't you, Josie?"

The scary part was, Josie almost did. She could still feel that impulse tugging away at the back of her brain, reminding her how good it felt to just hang out with Ericka at her apartment and smoke weed and watch porn while they played with their messy cunts, and even though she hadn't drifted nearly as far into the particular kink Ericka was describing and some of the very special videos that went along with it she could still remember that warm, soothing voice telling her how nice it would be if she only put off cumming a tiny bit longer and let her clitty throb her worries away. Her fingers twitched with the desire to rub, and it took all her self-control to focus on Ericka's words instead of her pussy and murmur, "I--I think that was a lie."

Josie watched Ericka's face as the other woman tried to absorb the implications of that statement, seeing her pale pink forehead contort in a desperate effort to push past the hours of programming and the constant pulses of tingling lust to actually think with a brain that had become fully atrophied by hypnosis and porn, and the petite blonde was embarrassed to realize that the sight only made it harder to keep herself from masturbating. Ericka looked so sexy like that, one hand on her tits and the other on her cunt and the light of intelligence flickering only fitfully behind her eyes, and it made Josie's pussy ache just looking at it. There was an open bag of weed gummies on the table, and Josie couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to just pop one or two in her mouth and let her attention drift to the hypnosis file playing in the background instead of the conversation.

It sluggishly occurred to her that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave it playing in the first place, and keeping her focus elsewhere while the soothing voice slipped into her ears might be making this so much harder, but Josie was distracted from the thought when Ericka's confusion melted into a dreamy, placid smile and she simply uttered, "Master always knows best," in a vacant monotone that made Josie's clit pound like a bass drum just hearing it. That made it hard to concentrate on pretty much anything, but fortunately Josie had an idea of how to handle that--she just slid off her bikini, pressed her fingers to her pussy, and let herself rub. She'd heard somewhere that if she just edged long enough she would be able to think clearly again, without the maddening pulse of arousal fogging up her brain… and while she couldn't remember who'd told her, Josie knew it sounded like perfect advice to her.

In her imagination, Becki's eyes were always full of spirals whenever she laid back on the bed. She knew it wasn't literally true, she'd seen pictures of herself with her head hanging over the edge and her tongue out in that perfect cocksocket pose that always made her pussy so wet, but it was always such a compelling image that she had to go in and Photoshop little black-and-white swirls over her own mesmerized gaze. It was how she pictured hypnosis in her mind, long before she realized it was actually a real and achievable kink, and it was so compellingly erotic to think of herself as a spiral-eyed dolly that she spent a lot of her free time just trying to get the look of it exactly right.

Not that her eyes stayed open for all that long, of course. She usually felt them slipping shut somewhere around the time the first cock entered her mouth, sliding smoothly and effortlessly down her throat thanks to the angle her head was at and allowing her to offer up her face to be fucked by Master or one of his friends. Becki's cunt always throbbed so hard whenever Master's friends used her like that, feeling so much emptier and needier when she had the direct comparison of her other cocksocket and its visceral fullness--Becki never realized just how much she'd love being a denied doll with an oral fixation until she started playing with Master and actually wound up begging him to keep his hands away from her pussy. Something about the inherent subjugation of being unable to pleasure herself just scratched that itch in the back of her brain better than sex ever could.

They'd talked about getting a chastity belt for her, and Becki admitted that the pictures of her with her head over the edge of the bed and all of Master's friends just lining up to skullfuck her would be even hotter with a stainless steel plate preventing her from touching herself… but in a lot of ways, it made her so much wetter to know that absolutely nothing held her back from rubbing her cunt to one furious climax after another beyond Master's irresistible, unbreakable hypnotic control. She felt so deliciously weak with her clitty throbbing and pulsing uselessly away between her slick thighs, knowing that her hands simply refused to move down there and release that constant simmering lust, and it was really no wonder that the rest of his suggestions took hold so easily. Becki had proof that she couldn't fight him even if she wanted to, because her cunt wanted her to rub so badly and Master's control was stronger than that.

And Becki put every last bit of that desperation into sucking cock, so much so that Master had to turn her into a free-use slut for all his friends to keep her oral fixation satiated. He had men over every night to play video games and watch television and just hang out, and whenever one of them needed his balls drained they came into the bedroom where Becki was waiting in deep trance to skullfuck her until they nutted straight down her throat, and it all made Becki so wet and squirmy and delightfully happy to be useful. She knew she could safeword at any time, she knew all this had been negotiated with her enthusiastic consent… but in her mind she pictured herself totally helpless, with her eyes turned into spirals and her mouth turned into a fleshlight, and she couldn't imagine wanting anything more.

"There we go, that's it, that's a good boy," Olivia purred, watching with a smile as her husband shuddered and spasmed while his hips strained hard against Jessica's ass. "It feels so good to cum for me, it feels so good to let that pleasure take you deeper and deeper, that's it, that's right. Good boy, relax for me, there we go. And down." She reached down between Jessica's thighs to push Nick away from the woman he was fucking, gripping his still-hard shaft and guiding him over to her mouth so she could lick away the messy froth of cum and musk from the head of his prick. Nick's eyes rolled back in his head as he finally surrendered completely to his wife's hypnotic control.

Jessica didn't even show any sign of hearing Olivia's words--she was slumped face-down on the bed, jizz leaking from between her pale pink labia and into the thick thatch of brown pubic hair that covered her vulva. Jessica was an old hand at going into trance for Olivia, not that she remembered, and it turned out all those old triggers from college still worked just as well as ever because she'd dropped like a rock at the first whisper in her ear. Which meant that Olivia could fully concentrate on her husband, and she was determined to make the most of that undivided attention to make him into a plaything every bit as obedient as her old roommate. "Down and down and down for me, sweetie," she murmured, releasing his cock from her mouth and guiding him into a supine slump next to his new lover.

It was really Jessica who was to… well, not blame, exactly… but certainly she was responsible for all this. Olivia genuinely thought she'd put that whole side of her life behind her, given up on temptation and stopped messing with people's heads and let her talent for hypnosis fade into history. But when Jessica's relationship crashed and burned in a messy divorce and she was forced to move in with the couple, Olivia found herself wondering if the old triggers still worked… and when it turned out they did, she couldn't help wondering what it would be like to have a husband and a wife at the same time. "You're being such a good boy," she cooed to Nick, using touch to bring him deeper into trance while she pondered exactly what she was going to put in his empty head.

She knew she needed to make him accept this, first and foremost. Olivia managed to seduce him into this first threesome, counting on lust to turn off his brain and convince him to sink his cock all the way up to the hilt in Jessica's mindlessly offered quim, but he was going to wake up guilty if Olivia didn't do something to ease his mind and he certainly wouldn't be up for simply taking advantage of Jessica's perfectly internalized conditioning. If Olivia wanted to keep her lesbian fucktoy, she was going to need to make adjustments to her husband's morality… something she felt surprisingly comfortable with, given their years of marriage. Olivia thought she'd experience a pang of conscience, but all she felt right now was lust.

And as long as she was suggesting things, as long as she'd taken his unsuspecting mind this deep into trance and turned him into a malleable plaything for her superior will, it occurred to Olivia that she might as well make a few other changes. Get him interested in pegging, for example, so she could fuck him while he fucked Jessica, and maybe loosen up that commitment to monogamy a little bit further so Olivia could bring some other people home to play with. The possibilities were endless… and as the long-suppressed dominant urges inside Olivia rose up to swallow her conscience whole, she decided she was going to try every single one of them.

Toni didn't even know what she was trying to do anymore. She was still bucking and thrashing, yes, but her movements were almost entirely uncoordinated and it was laughably easy for Ryan to simply ride her squirming hips with his mouth sealed tightly against her pussy and his lips pursed sensuously around her swollen clit. Even in the privacy of her own muddled head, she couldn't really pretend she was trying to push him away or make him stop; she was just so lost in pleasure that her animal brain instinctively thrust up against him in the confused, half-thought belief that it would drive an imaginary cock deeper into her soaking cunt. That wasn't resistance.

She couldn't even really pretend it was still the hypnosis keeping her trapped in this state of flailing, whimpering passivity. Ryan had stopped talking ages ago, finding other things to do with his mouth, and even though Toni was tightly focused on the white-hot pleasure in her clit she couldn't exactly say that was a form of trance. Or if it was, it was the same kind of trance she sank into whenever she had really fucking amazing sex and that just meant Ryan was right--she really was a horny little slut who needed to be fucked more than she needed to think. And remembering those words, and the pulsing throb of arousal she felt when she nodded vacantly and peeled away another layer of clothing, was enough to keep her trapped in a web of pure unadulterated lust.

Another orgasm struck her, and again Toni felt like she could almost picture her mind and her will and her independence draining straight down her spine and right into her pussy for Ryan to lick away; it was the same description he'd given her earlier, back when he was still talking to her while he fingered her needy cunt, and Toni had to admit she no longer knew where his words ended and her mind began. But she also knew that if she tried, if she really tried as hard as she could, she could shake off the lingering spell of his hypnotic induction and reassert her own sense of self… but if she did, he'd stop going down on her and Toni couldn't imagine actually wanting that. Her body wasn't going to give this up until she was limp and wrung-out and sated.

She wondered what Ryan would do to her, once he'd finally given her so many orgasms that she was nothing more than a ragdoll on his couch. Would he wake Toni up with a smile and kiss her with lips drenched in her own musk? Would he finally release the arousal that he had to be feeling right now, jacking his precum-slick cock until he splattered her tits with his jizz? Or was this only the beginning of some insidious plan for her? Toni could picture him sitting down next to her limp body, caressing her forehead and murmuring irresistible hypnotic programming in her ears, and she wished she could say that didn't make her cum all the harder when her next climax hit. This wasn't her fantasy, but it was better than the fantasies she'd had before this night.

Whatever his plan, Toni could tell she was going to find out soon--her hips were slowing, her thrashing becoming more and more feeble as her body exhausted itself with pleasure. Her mind was slowing down too, embracing the drowsy lethargy that lay at the end of all this orgasmic bliss, and all she wanted to do was let Ryan lick her fully into limp, exhausted indolence. And then, she hoped, he would do it to her again the very instant she recovered.

When Kiki came back to herself, the first thing she noticed was the dildo suction-cupped to the exact center of her monitor. It wasn't something she remembered doing, and for that matter she didn't recall buying a toy like this--she had a few vibrators she enjoyed using, but nothing quite like this incredibly realistic, perfectly molded sculpture of a man's cock and balls. Her gaze fixated on it in bewildered confusion, but she soon realized that her mouth was hanging open and she couldn't seem to make it close again. Something in her responded to the sight of this very particular penis with slack-jawed fascination and she didn't understand what.

The second thing she noticed was the collar. It was the only thing she had on from the waist up, and Kiki blushed to realize her webcam was on and she was in the middle of a video chat with somebody--he was staring at her tits while he patiently waited for her to snap out of whatever fugue state she'd been in, and Kiki felt an instant and intuitive rush of pleasure at having her body on display so openly. Even though she was trying to untangle the sticky mess her thoughts had become, those instincts still lit up like a beacon whenever she found something that triggered them. It was disconcerting, even concerning, but all her red flags had turned pink in the wash and she couldn't really make herself worry about what was happening to her.

That didn't stop Kiki from mumbling, "Wha… what's happening?" in a slurred and sleepy voice that should have alarmed her even more but instead only made her mind ache with the desire to slip back into that same fog she'd only just emerged from. There was a word for that kind of mental exhaustion, she vaguely recalled, fractionation or something like that, and it happened when you were hypnotized and woken over and over and over again until your brain just couldn't tell whether it was meant to be awake or asleep anymore. That carried a lot of implications, as did the important fact that she couldn't remember any of these trances she'd apparently been in, but Kiki was too weary to really think about them and all she wanted was for the man on the other end of the chat to tell her what to do.

And he did. "This is happening, sweetie," he purred, holding up some kind of child's toy directly in the center of the screen so that it framed the dildo stuck to her monitor, and when he turned it on and it began to spin and flash in a dizzying, dazzling pattern of hypnotic light Kiki found herself leaning closer and closer to stare at it in rapt fascination. She didn't even notice the fake cock sliding into her mouth--her mind was fully preoccupied with getting as close as possible to the pretty lights and when her lips sealed around the sex toy it simply felt like a need vanishing from her awareness. Her eyes crossed, and she slipped back down into trance without even a ripple of struggle.

Kiki sank impossibly deep, impossibly fast, and even though her eyes remained open she stayed so raptly focused on the light that she didn't need to think about anything else at all. Her head bobbed up and down on the dildo, practicing until she could take it all the way down to the molded balls, and every grunting gulp felt good to her because she knew it pleased her Master. She knew she was being made ready for him. She knew her mind was settling into the pattern of obedience. It was so wonderful that eventually thought itself fell away and she went totally, blissfully blank… and when she finally came back to herself, the first thing she noticed was the toy suction-cupped to the center of the screen.

"Francine, I presume?" The woman in the shadows raised a glass of white wine, toasting Francine's arrival, and almost immediately the sophomore felt a stirring of disquiet. She didn't one hundred percent remember what prompted the impulse to come to this off-campus apartment, and while that kind of inexplicable compulsion wasn't exactly uncommon given her submissive streak and susceptibility to hypnosis she usually at least recognized the woman who triggered her. This was a total stranger, waiting for her in a dimly-lit room wearing nothing but a pair of panties, and that made Francine wonder again just how far and wide her secret vulnerability had spread.

The woman took a sip of her wine and purred, "My name's Victoria, and I'm sure we're going to be the best of friends." She pulled her panties aside with her fingers, exposing a cunt that was already glistening with slick, needy arousal, and Francine felt that first tell-tale wave of drowsiness slam into her like a breaking wave--she wasn't hypnotized yet, not exactly, but her subconscious mind recognized the invitation to go into trance and it was always happy to follow obediently along. And while Francine felt a little uncertain about this whole situation, it wasn't enough to override both her compulsive fascination with hypnosis and the constant throb of excitement in her wet pussy. Francine was always outnumbered two to one at times like these and it led her to some pretty wild experiences.

Her feet carried her forward, one inadvertent step at a time, while Victoria smiled at her and said, "I got your number from a mutual acquaintance of ours, a young woman named Tanesha. She gave it to me in exchange for an orgasm--I think she was getting quite desperate, towards the end--and told me that you were exactly the kind of weak, submissive slut I like to break." The naked woman's cultured tones sent a shiver down Francine's spine, promising the kind of precise and confident dominance that a submissive like her couldn't resist, and Francine's fingers began to fumble with buttons and zippers without any real intention on her part while her eyes fixated on that smooth, slick cunt.

Francine could see Victoria's smile at the edges of her field of vision, growing into a sadistic grin as the other woman's eyes glittered hungrily, but it wasn't until she heard the next sentence that the sophomore realized just how much trouble she was in. "She also told me you were a pushover for hypnosis, Frankie," Victoria intoned, and that mesmerizing cunt suddenly wound up at eye level with Francine as her legs went out from under her in a wobbly collapse. "Is that true, Frankie girl? Are you a pushover for hypnosis for me?" Francine nodded, her jaw going slack and her gaze becoming glassy, and she had a suspicion she was perilously close to the last clear memory she was going to have of this evening--Victoria seemed like the kind of person who would make full use of every advantage she had, and she had plenty of advantages when it came to dominating Francine.

"That's a good girl," Victoria cooed, tangling Francine's chestnut hair in her fingers as the submissive woman crawled closer. "And don't worry, you don't need to mention this to anybody. We can just be each other's naughty little secret." Francine nodded again, her eyelids fluttering, and let her tongue sink deep into Victoria's soaking folds as the need to exert even the tiniest amount of thought faded at last.

The woman who came out of the bathroom stall looked flushed and feverish, her eyes glassy as she approached Darlene and gave her a long, theatrical sniff. "Um, uhh, this… this might sound s-strange, but--but is that perfume of yours Morocco?" She didn't look like she was going to wait for an answer, honestly--she was getting intimately close to Darlene, her nostrils flaring as she took breath after breath of the bewildered brunette's scent, and it was both disconcerting and bizarrely erotic to be the subject of such close attention. Darlene felt like she was the stranger's entire world right now, and that was enough to make the bi-curious side of her poke its head out with sudden interest.

She managed to get out a "Y--", but that was about all that escaped Darlene's lips before they were fully sealed by a deep, passionate, soul-searing kiss from the other woman that instantly took her breath away. It should have been shocking and upsetting, but instead Darlene found it exhilarating; she'd never been the focus of this kind of potent, desperate lust before, and it made her feel desired in a way that felt incredibly erotic. This stranger, whoever she was, wanted her more than anything else in the entire world right now and that stirred a twinge of lust in Darlene's pussy despite the strangeness of the situation.

The woman broke their liplock, but only so that she could kiss her way down Darlene's body with a verve and an intensity that treated Darlene's strapless black cocktail dress as little more than a mild inconvenience. Within seconds Darlene found herself naked from the waist up, her bra hanging uselessly around her waist, as her lover mumbled, "S-sorry, I can't--can't help myself, it's that perfume, it--it always does this to me," whenever her mouth was briefly unoccupied. She brushed Darlene's dress clean off, taking the panties with them, and kissed her way back up to Darlene's chest where she'd spritzed a bit of Morocco before heading out to the club while her leg pressed between Darlene's warm thighs and began to grind.

Darlene knew this was probably a bad idea on so many levels--the door to the restroom wasn't even locked, anyone could come in and see her humping this total stranger's leg like a bitch in heat--but the other woman seemed to know just where to kiss and caress Darlene to override all her concerns. It wasn't even like the blonde was in command of the situation; she seemed every bit as desperate and hungry for sex as Darlene did, and it was exactly that spiraling of two out-of-control passions that was leading Darlene deeper down the rabbit hole to her first experience with lesbian sex. She just wanted to feel the all-consuming fire of this woman's arousal, warming herself with it as if she'd just walked in from the freezing cold, and she couldn't seem to make it stop.

It wasn't until she pushed the other woman's head away from between her thighs, somewhere after her third gunshot-quick orgasm, that the stranger finally seemed to regain something of herself, and she mumbled sheepishly, "Sorry, but my ex-girlfriend had that perfume, and she… she kind of, um…." She trailed into silence, submissively helping Darlene get dressed again, and the mystery behind that unfinished sentence prompted Darlene to offer to buy the pretty stranger a drink. Just so she could find out what turned Morocco into such a trigger for sheer, unbridled lust like that.

Justine's face was absolutely buried in Mona's pussy. That was the first thing she was able to think clearly about in… in a while, now, and Justine allowed her tongue to flick back and forth against the older woman's clit on autopilot while she tried to probe the gap in her memories like a child repeatedly finding the space where a missing tooth should be. Because even though Justine's whole body was tingling with irresistible lust, even though she could taste Mona's intimate flavor saturating her mouth, she simply had no idea what happened between the moment they were sitting on the bed together and now. And she couldn't stop licking until she figured it out.

It wasn't like she couldn't trace a line between her last clear memory and the sound of Mona's soft, squealing gasps in her ears. Justine wasn't dumb and she wasn't sexually naive, and when a beautiful older woman invited you back to her hotel room to look at the photos she took yesterday Justine knew it was a pretext for the kind of hookup that made vacations like this so much fun. But when they lay down on the bed next to each other, and Mona opened up her laptop and clicked on… on something… it caught Justine's attention in a way that nature photos definitely couldn't. And the last thing she recalled was seeing Mona's knowing smile out of the corner of her eye while her gaze became ever more fixated on the screen in front of her.

And then… nothing. Not even the memory of sleeping like you got when you woke up in the morning. One second Justine was staring wide-eyed in amazement at something too befuddling for her tangled memories to take it all in, and the next Mona was using her thighs for earmuffs and Justine had her tongue pushed all the way up inside the other woman's slick, messy cunt. It was as if she'd been anesthetized, all the memories between that methodical countdown and waking up in the recovery room simply excised from her consciousness, and it slowly began to dawn on Justine just how obsessive her continued licking truly was but she had other things on her mind besides stopping. She understood the key to solving this mystery was whatever was on that screen and she had to ignore her own compulsive behavior and give it a good hard think to figure it all out.

She narrowed her entire mind and her will and her consciousness down to a single point, pushing through the waves of drowsiness that threatened to claim her and focusing hard on the moment when she first turned her gaze to the screen. Justine felt like what she saw there in her memories was too big to take in all at once; she had to focus on individual curves and lines, tracing them in her mind while she took in the sensation of stunned and staggered amazement that clouded her mind and thoughts so completely. She almost had it now, she was sure of it. She could almost see exactly what broke her and emptied her and made her such a weak, pliable--

Another inexplicable lacuna, and Justine was being pushed away from Mona's sated cunt. It took her almost a full five seconds to understand that her tongue could stop moving, and once it finally sank in that she could rest her entire body went limp and floppy on the mattress. "You're such a good girl," Mona purred, crawling over to finger the drained and drowsy submissive, and when Justine tried to figure out exactly how she'd come to be so unaccountably lethargic and susceptible to suggestions she found herself backtracking to that same moment again. And her eyes rolled back in her head as the hypnotic image plunged her into deep, mindless obedience once more.

"Well, it sounds like the problem might be clitoral hypersensitivity," Doctor Beekman said, his suddenly brisk and businesslike tone snapping Ellie out of a reverie she didn't remember drifting into. "Symptoms can include confusion, disorientation, memory loss, nymphomania, difficulty comprehending complex topics and multisyllabic words, and sexual submission to authority. Have you been experiencing any of those symptoms, Miss Pollard?" Ellie stared at him vacantly, all too aware of a trickle of drool still dripping from her slack lips. She didn't want to admit that she only understood about a quarter of those words. She really didn't want to admit that she couldn't remember most of the talk that came before them. She just nodded, hoping he wouldn't call her bluff and ask any follow-up questions.

He didn't, but he stood up and said, "Excellent, then I think the next step is a physical examination." He waited a moment or two for Ellie to respond, before giving her a long weary sigh and adding, "I need to look at your naked body, Ellie. Could you please take your clothes off and bend over my desk?" Ellie's brow furrowed, and she gave him a long, slow, sleepy blink as she tried to figure out why they were having this talk in Doctor Beekman's office instead of an exam room and what she thought she'd come in here to say to him before he told her all that other stuff she couldn't quite fit into her head… but then her clitty gave another big hard throb at the idea of stripping down for a smart, handsome man and she forgot what she was thinking. She wanted to show off her body to her doctor. That sounded really fucking hot, to be honest.

He stopped her when she was down to just her stockings and garters, saying, "That'll do nicely, Ellie," and instead of telling her what to do next he just put one hand on her waist and the other hand on the back of her neck and bent her forward until her tits squashed against the top of his deck. "Now try to keep quiet, sweetie, because this part of the exam can get kind of messy," and that was all the warning Ellie got before he was pushing her down so she couldn't squirm and the hand at her waist moved to sink three fingers into her surprisingly wet pussy. Ellie let out a tiny mewl despite herself, her cunt clenching and grasping around the intruding digits with a hunger she'd never felt before. Ellie didn't even know she could get this horny, but the way Doctor Beekman touched her made it easy.

"Now let's try a few simple questions to establish my diagnosis," the doctor murmured calmly, as if he didn't know that Ellie couldn't make any sense out of the last half of his sentence. "An intelligent woman should be able to answer these even with her pussy getting stretched and her clit getting rubbed, so if you can't then you'll know that you're medically incapable of resisting your submissive tendencies and you should immediately surrender yourself to a competent and capable authority figure to make decisions on your behalf. What's three plus six, Ellie?"

She was so caught off guard by the question that she almost forgot she was supposed to answer it--she was still muddling her way through 'med-ick-ull-ee in-cay-puh-bull' and 'sub-miss-iv ten-den-sees' and the rest of his speech threatened to simply fall into a warm, slick void of pleasure. Ellie tried to answer, she really did, but just then her first climax hit… and when she lost herself in rutting, grunting bliss something deep inside her fell apart and she knew she just needed to be owned from now on.

Jake couldn't hide the twitch his prick gave when he felt Tommy's cock slide into his tight, slick asshole, and it was obvious the other man noticed because he gave a knowing chuckle and asked, "Oh, does someone like this?" It was a question Jake would normally have been far too embarrassed to answer, but thankfully his brain was so numb and drowsy and lethargic that he couldn't really summon up the effort to speak anyway. He simply let out a sleepy grunt, one shaded with warm pleasure, and allowed himself to drift deeper as the other man's shaft sank all the way in.

Once Tommy was sure he had the measure of Jake's ass, his thrusts began to speed up, and Jake's eyes rolled back in his head as the intensity of the experience began to overwhelm him--he never thought he'd enjoy anal sex, but Tommy's cock felt like it was hitting something made of pure pleasure and almost before he knew it his own prick was twitching and spasming and dumping gush after gush of clear, slick precum all over his belly. "I think someone likes this a lot," Tommy murmured, his voice still holding that same soothing register even though he was beginning to sound a tiny bit hoarse with exertion, and Jake's mind crumbled deeper into the abyss of obedience as he was forced to admit that Tommy was right.

This wasn't how he expected the night to go. They were supposed to be studying together, not experimenting with hypnosis and weed and gay sex… although from the feel of it, this wasn't so much an experiment for Tommy as a confirmation of several long-established theories that had become a part of the permanent body of literature on the subject. Jake hadn't seen any of this coming when he came over to his study partner's basement apartment and Tommy started talking about his long, exhausting shift at the coffee shop--but perhaps that was exactly what made him so perfectly susceptible to the other man's low, soothing tones and the mellow rhythm of his flowing speech.

Whatever it was that caught him and however it was that was holding him, Jake couldn't deny that it felt almost impossibly good. Tommy's hand encircled Jake's prick and began to jack him off in time with his thrusts, his palm sliding freely up and down the slick shaft, and when he purred out, "That's a good boy," Jake felt the pleasure and the praise sinking deep inside him like a dose of some intoxicating venom. He knew he was never going to be the same after this, even beyond the suggestions his dazed and drowsy mind was soaking up; this was a life-changing experience, a vivid demonstration of an entire world of ecstasy he'd been denying himself all these years, and he instinctively understood that he was going to come back to Tommy for more whenever the other man asked.

Whenever anyone asked, really--this was unlocking something potent and powerful in Jake's hypnotized brain, and he could already tell he'd come to crave it every bit as much as the other guys around him went wild for pussy. "Show me how much you need this, good boy," Tommy growled, and the last tiny shreds of Jake's unadulterated heterosexuality flew out of his mind like dust on the wind as he felt his cock let go with jet after jet of warm, sticky jizz that splattered all over his chest and belly.

"Ohhh, sweetie, you're doing so well," Marta cooed, reaching out to pet Lizzie's back with warm, soothing strokes that irresistibly reminded the young woman of her initial descent into trance. "You're taking him so nice and deep, you're making him feel so good, and doesn't it feel good for you, too? Doesn't it make you so happy to finally know what it's like to be fucked, honey girl?" Lizzie's eyes crossed and uncrossed, her brain momentarily fuzzing out into pulses of pleasure that kept her mind firmly focused on the dick sawing in and out of her wet pussy. She'd expected pain for her first time, but Marta's smooth and sensuous voice had left her so relaxed that Raymond was able to slip easily and effortlessly into her cunt.

It somehow seemed so much easier to think about that part. Everything else felt big and heavy and confusing, but when Lizzie centered her mind on the growing throb of pure, white-hot lust in her clit she could simply nod along to Marta's words and let all her concerns about the older couple drift clean out of her head. "That's a good girl!" Marta exclaimed, her voice filled with comforting praise. "That's a good girl, you're doing so well and you're making us so happy. Just go deeper and deeper for me now, let your mind and body relax more and more until the only thing in that empty, sleepy head is pleasure. You're being such a good girl." That was when Lizzie first came, her cunt squeezing tightly around Raymond's thrusting cock, and she intuitively knew she was always going to associate those two words with orgasm for the rest of her life.

Lizzie was otherwise blissfully untroubled by thoughts of the future--she knew on some level that she should be at least concerned, she understood that giving in to this state of deep trance and letting the couple she babysat for plow her soaking cunt in a threesome was going to change everything about their working relationship and leave her susceptible to exactly this kind of seduction, and even though she was a grown woman now who could make her own choices about sex Lizzie knew that the dynamic here was tilted steeply against her independence and agency. But none of that seemed to matter when Raymond was balls deep inside her, and it finally clicked for Lizzie why so many of the female students at her tiny community college talked breathlessly about dating older men. The fumbling boys she went to school with weren't going to fuck her like this.

"…need to think about any of this too much later," Marta intoned, and Lizzie realized with a start that she'd tuned out so completely that she didn't remember much of what the older woman was saying. But a wave of diffident relaxation washed over her, telling Lizzie that she didn't need to actually remember Marta's instructions to remember them, and even though that sounded confusing her deep self understood and accepted perfectly. She let out a tiny whimper as Marta's fingers found her nipples, milking her bee-sting tits as she crouched on all fours, and she was already on her third climax by the time Raymond's cock unleashed a torrent of jizz into her unprotected pussy. It should have worried her… but then Marta guided Lizzie onto her back, and all of Lizzie's worries went away when Marta's tongue began to lap the semen out of her wet, messy cunt.

"I'm sorry, you think I'm what now?" Russ asked, and Danni's face went beet red at the thought of repeating her accusation. It was so hard even to look at her roommate's boyfriend right now, much less meet his gaze the way he always requested whenever she tried to talk to him, and the notion of trying to stare down his calm, bemused expression with his big erect dick wiggling away just below eye level felt so daunting that for a moment she considered just darting back into her bedroom and ceding the rest of the apartment to him. She'd never been the assertive type, and holding her ground in the face of this kind of persistent gaslighting wasn't really in her nature.

But backing down now that she'd made a fuss would feel like a defeat, not a retreat, so she forced herself to look into his hazel eyes and repeat herself. "Y-you're being lewd," she stammered, wishing her voice didn't awkwardly squeak like a badly-played violin when she talked. "You, you're just sitting there with your pants off and your un, underwear pulled to the side and you…." Shit. She was actually going to have to say it. There was no way to get out of the conversation without verbally acknowledging the length and girth and twitching urgency of Russ's erect penis. "You've got a hard-on," she mumbled at last, trying her hardest not to swallow her words because Russ always pretended he couldn't hear her when she did that. Her blush had spread clear down to her neckline by now.

Russ held her gaze for a long, challenging moment before theatrically looking down at himself, then back up to her. "I'm sorry, I don't see it," he murmured, his voice so achingly sincere that Danni instantly knew he was lying. "I mean, I'll admit I'm dressed casually, but come on, Danni. Do you really think I'd be just sitting here on the couch with my dick out, waiting for you to come into the room so you could get a big old eyeful and get all flustered like a weak and simple girl who'd never gotten laid before in your life? Does that sound like the kind of thing I would do?" The answer was self-evidently yes, but to say it meant calling Russ a liar to his face and that was so hard to do when he was so insistent about his skewed version of events.

Danni didn't know how she came upon the idea of proving her point by wrapping her hand around Russ's cock and confronting him with the skin-on-skin reality of the situation, but she knew that it felt like an escape from the constant contradictions he offered whenever she brought up his increasingly lascivious behavior around the apartment. "S-see, I… I can reach right out and touch it," she gabbled, her eyes still locked onto his even as her fingers began to stroke up and down the shaft, and although it occurred to her that she was probably crossing a boundary by interacting so directly with Russ's twitching penis she felt a kind of anesthetized tranquility in her mind that rendered the thought weightless and without meaning. She sank to her knees, her legs far too weak and wobbly to support itself any longer.

"Sorry, still not seeing it," Russ chuckled, even though his tip was dribbling precum all over Danni's fingers like a leaky faucet. "Maybe you have something a little more convincing you could bring to the table?" Danni felt something break inside her mind then, collapsing under the weight of a burden she'd been struggling under for months, but the moment it finally crumbled she couldn't remember what she'd been fighting anymore. She just knew that she needed to hold eye contact with Russ… and although that was a bit difficult to manage with her lips engulfing the head of his cock, Danni did her very best to accommodate him.