Anna already didn't love her odds when she saw Jess and Tara approaching; they had that kind of steely, determined look in their eyes that told her they were out to fuck someone up, and when they spotted her and immediately began moving in her direction Anna realized that someone was specifically her. She decided not to bluff her way through this--classes were about to start, and the hallways were already emptying out too much to trust that this confrontation would remain purely social--and she darted away only to wind up pursued directly into an empty classroom where the two women closed in on her with a menace to their body language that made escape feel impossible. "We've been thinking about what you said about the videos," Jess snapped, and Anna's heart instantly sank.

"Because we know you said you didn't watch them," the brunette continued, while Tara went around behind Anna and pinned the struggling blonde's arms behind her back, "and of course we believe you because the only reason you'd lie about that is because you knew you couldn't resist the hypnotic programming and you were afraid some horny lesbians would turn you into their personal fucktoy." Tara chuckled sadistically, and Anna tried to pull away only to find that her muscles felt unaccountably weak in the other woman's grip. She caught herself wondering if she'd truly stumbled into this empty classroom by accident, or if some secret, subconscious part of her was hoping to wind up in this exact predicament. Not for the first time, Anna cursed her habit of scrolling through videos on social media. It was more dangerous than ever now.

"But of course there's a simple test to see if you're telling the truth, isn't there?" Jess chirruped brightly, pulling out a length of leather with a buckle on one end. "Everybody knows that if you really did watch that video that's been going around, and it did suck you in and make a secret slave identity inside your brain that craves nothing more than being dominated and used, then the moment you get a collar around your pretty throat you're just going to go limp and blank and submissive for whoever puts it on you. You won't even have a choice. All that programming will kick in and your mind will crystallize into deep, reverent obedience until you're released." She trailed the soft leather against the back of Anna's neck. "What do you say to that, hmm?"

Anna knew she was pretty much done for, then, but she felt a yammering stir of panic in her brain that convinced her there was just maybe the slightest chance to talk her way out of this if she could get the words out before the collar buckled shut. "I, I'd say that's kind of silly, and, um, and you're going to get into a lot of trouble if you--" She felt the leather wrap all the way around her throat, and her speech cut off in a momentary gasp as a surge of white-hot lust shot down her spine and straight into her swollen clit. "If you, um, if you do this, this stupid test of yours and it… it…." The collar tightened. She felt the metal prong slide through one of the holes, then slip through the metal cuff that kept it tamped down. And every last thought emptied out of Anna's brain as the suggestions locked into place and her mind went empty and blank for her new owners.

"Oh, darling?" Ryan's face had a kind of cherubic innocence to it, looking for all the world like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth even as he took out his cell phone and ceremoniously began recording his girlfriend. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind making a little movie for me." He must have noticed Leah's slightly anxious expression, because his voice developed a little extra richness and he gave her a reassuring pat on the hand while cooing, "Don't worry, sweet girl. Nobody's watching, and I'll tell you if that changes. You can just relax and let go." He slid the phone under the table, and Leah's eyes went slightly distant as it finally sank in for her exactly where he was aiming it.

That was enough for the hypnotized slut who was never very far from the surface of Leah's mind, and she spread her legs and let one hand drift absently down between her thighs to rub her pussy under the table. She didn't have to worry about panties getting in the way--Ryan had trained her so thoroughly out of the habit of wearing them that her befuddled brain wasn't even entirely sure how to put them on anymore without help--and she knew the camera was getting a nice clear view of her flushed, swollen labia and the big stiff clit poking out between them. One of the things Ryan always told Leah was that she had a very photogenic cunt, and even though the compliment was degrading as all hell that was exactly the kind of praise that made Leah wet enough to masturbate in public.

Her ankles instinctively hooked around the legs of her chair, making it easy to spread her legs nice and wide to make sure the camera caught everything, and Leah struggled against her natural inclination to moan while Ryan stroked the back of her hand and purred, "That's my good girl. Doesn't it feel so naughty to show yourself off in public like this? Doesn't it just make you feel like such a needy little slut for Master?" He had to know his dirty talk wasn't making it any easier to suppress her mewls and whimpers, and several times Leah's breath hitched in her throat as she tried as hard as she could not to grunt like a rutting animal at the pleasure between her thighs. There was an occupied table right behind her, and although they didn't seem to be taking an interest in the other diners that would undoubtedly change if Leah started cumming like a porn star.

And there was no mistaking it--a porn star was exactly what she was. Leah knew where that video was going to go when he was done making it, just like she knew where all the little home movies he made of his desperate little slut wound up, and the thought of being seen degrading herself like this made Leah so wet that she was worried the table behind them could hear the soft squishing sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of her cunt. But they didn't seem to notice, or at least Ryan didn't tell her to stop, and she rubbed herself to a quiet climax that left her panting for breath and struggling to focus her glassy eyes and utterly lost in a hypnotic trance she didn't even remember sinking into. "That's my little cutie pie," Ryan chuckled, sliding his phone back up and setting it on the table mere moments before their pizza arrived… and Leah had the delightfully embarrassing experience of eating finger food with her hand still dripping with her own musk.

Not for the first time, Joe looked down at his dick and wondered where his clothes had gotten to. He wondered absently if he shouldn't go and look for them, but he knew that if he did he'd lose his place in line and he was certain he didn't want that even if everything else felt a little bit… fuzzy. Sometimes that was the end of it--he'd just give his prick a couple of tugs, lose himself in the urgent rutting lust that was never very far from the surface of his mind, but other times he managed to push the next sluggish thought through his overwhelmed brain and wonder exactly how the line had formed and who else was in it with him.

The answer was three other naked guys, all of whom were playing with their dicks with the exact same kind of glassy, feebleminded look in their eyes that Joe felt sure he'd see if he looked in the mirror. There was a fourth man ahead of them, and his cock was sawing in and out of Toya's messy cunt with the enthusiasm of a stud whose mare was in heat, and that vaguely reminded Joe of something that happened when Toya lay down on the couch and spread her legs but it was hard to really describe it in any kind of detail without sounding all weird and pervy. It was like, she pulled down her panties and parted her thighs and suddenly Joe knew he had to fuck her. Absolutely had to, whatever it took. The scent her pussy made, it just filled the room and made him downright stupid with lust.

It also made him weirdly passive, though. Like, he knew all these guys, they'd been friends of his since high school and he'd gotten into his share of scuffles with them over imagined insults or minor misunderstandings or sometimes just because. But Pedro was behind him, jacking off vigorously instead of pushing his way to the front of the line, and Tony was just standing there up at the front waiting for Will to nut inside Toya's sloppy cunt like he had all the time in the world to play with his dick. They all just… they were all taking turns like good boys, like Toya told them to, and that seemed weirder and weirder the more Joe thought about it but also the more he tried to think the harder it got.

Because the pressure, the roiling urgency building in his heavy balls, it--god, it was like it got stronger the more he tried to think. It was as if something was pushing back against his every effort at cognition, and usually this was about as far as he got in his struggles to make his mushy, feeble brain work before he tumbled back into languid euphoria and lost himself staring at his own pumping fist for a while until it gradually occurred to him again that he was naked and holding his own cock in a whole room full of other guys. But once or twice he managed to get to that last frontier of intellectual development, the realization that he'd had all these thoughts and ideas not just once but several times and that was kind of funny because it shouldn't take them all that long to bust a nut in Toya's pussy.

But then Will finished with a hoarse groan of ecstasy, the light leaving his eyes as he thought of nothing but emptying his balls, and when he was finally spent he trotted obediently to the back of the line and watched Toya accept her next suitor. And Joe realized he recognized that moment of total mental loss and utter, complete subjugation from a memory he didn't even know he had, and he finally understood that this wasn't his first time through the line. More importantly, though… it wouldn't be his last, either.

"Why don't you tell her all about it, Frankie?" Doctor Weston asked, and even though it was difficult to tear her attention away from the slick, dripping cunt in front of her Francine at least managed to take in enough of her doctor's words to obey the instruction. Her lips parted, and even though Francine's jaw momentarily went slack and her tongue briefly lolled out in an unthinking attempt to please the pussy of the squirming, glassy-eyed blonde she was kneeling for she nonetheless managed to babble out a stream-of-consciousness ramble about her favorite topic and her most cherished belief while Doctor Weston groped and fondled the receptionist sitting naked next to her.

"It feels so good to be hypnotized, Cherie," Francine heard herself gabble, her voice slurred and sleepy and unable to filter out even a single thought from her rambling flow of speech. "It makes me so wet to be weak and horny, it turns me on so much to be a slutty helpless pussy pleaser. I told Doctor Weston all about it, all about how much it makes my cunt throb and ache and drool to be a pushover for hypnosis and--and how to do it to other girls, and she's been… nnnnh… she's been practicing on me. Putting me into trance again and again, telling me to fight it and then figuring out how to hypnotize me anyway. Just like…." Francine swallowed hard, not out of any swell of emotion but because her mouth was watering so much it was difficult to speak. "Just like she did with you."

Cherie let out a tiny whimper at Francine's words, but the kneeling woman didn't know whether it was a last gasp of impotent resistance leaving her body or a mewl of desperate anticipation for her final fall into obedience. Either seemed just as likely--Doctor Weston had dropped them both at the same time, using her demonstration of Francine's susceptibility to hypnosis to ensnare Cherie's unsuspecting mind, and by this point the blonde receptionist was so wet and needy that the promise of getting her pussy licked was like an anchor on her mind. Try as she might to fight it, she couldn't ignore Francine's lips just inches away from her cunt, and the desire to be eaten out was gradually eroding her willpower until it was finally ready to vanish altogether.

And Francine had no willpower right now, waiting only for permission to seal her mouth against Cherie's cunt and drive her to new heights of pleasure. "You're going to love it so much when you give up and let me eat your pussy, Cherie, I'm so good at it and you'll be so happy Doctor Weston broke your brain and made you a pushover like me. I'm gonna suck on your clit until you can't think of anything else, and Doctor Weston's going to tell you how to be a good girl while you cum, and you're just… f-fuck, you're going to be so good against my tongue…." Francine probably wouldn't have been this enthusiastic to help Cherie see the virtues of mindless obedience if she was awake. But if she was awake, she would already have forgotten all of this.

Cherie finally gasped out, "yes, please, I don't want to think anymore," and by then she was such a mess that Francine's chin was immediately smeared with the musk of her arousal when she leaned in to lick. She felt Cherie's fingers knotting themselves in her hair, pulling her close and holding her face directly against the blonde's labia, and when Doctor Weston began to speak to them both Francine found that she was too busy licking to think about what she was hearing. But she knew she was being a good girl, and that was all that mattered.

Shelley stood up, her mind more focused than ever on the warm spring sunshine against her skin now that her eyes were stuck so tightly shut, and knew she was about to undress. She knew it the same way birds knew it was time to migrate, the same way trees knew it was time to unfurl their buds into bright green leaves--it was just too obvious even to think about, and the fabric of her skimpy bikini felt intolerably confining in those few instants between the discovery of her understanding and the tug of her fumbling fingers against the strings that held the garments in place. When her big bouncy tits finally spilled out with a jiggle of quaking flesh, Shelley was certain she'd never been happier.

She felt even better when she slumped back down into the pool chair, her muscles relaxing into a boneless lethargy that seemed to deepen her trance so much more profoundly when contrasted with the energy it took to obey the command to stand and undress. Shelley didn't have to move anymore, she didn't have to so much as think, and even the tiny nagging distraction of her blonde curly hair falling in front of her face went away once Tara brushed it aside. There was nothing to do but lie there and let her friend apply sunscreen to her exposed breasts, and soon Shelley's whole body was tingling with the erotic sensation of being rubbed all over.

It only felt natural to give in to those tingling pulses of pleasure, letting her soft thighs part to lie with her limbs akimbo while Tara teased her caresses closer and closer to Shelley's wet cunt. She never really considered her friend in a sexual manner like this before, never even imagined herself with another woman if she was being honest, but Tara's cooing voice explained how everyone was a little bit bi if they just let themselves relax and enjoy it, and certainly the throb in her pussy didn't care who was doing the touching. It just needed sensation, and Shelley was too deep and drowsy to worry about the consequences this might have for their relationship. She just wanted… oh, fuck. She wanted to cum.

Once that notion entered her head, it was very difficult for Shelley to really move her mind away from it. She was totally focused on building the pleasure between her legs, paying close and careful attention to every motion of Tara's fingers tracing against her skin, and soon her breath came in heavy, panting gasps that somehow did nothing to rouse her from her state of sleepy lethargy. It was like she was caught in a waking dream, trapped in the very first stage of sleep where her thoughts became muddled and her body felt too heavy to move, and all she could do was lie there and wordlessly whimper out a plea for more. Her entire existence became anticipation for that first moment of penetration by her best friend.

And then it happened, and Shelley found whole new depths to both her pleasure and her trance. She felt the fingers pistoning in and out of her soaking pussy, churning her cunt into a frothy mess of arousal, and it was enough to make her grunt like a rutting sow as she mindlessly agreed with everything Tara told her. A few minutes ago some of Tara's words might have roused her from her sleepy trance, clashing with some deeply held beliefs about her autonomy and independence… but pleasure had already overwhelmed what little resistance Shelley had managed to muster and she soon collapsed into obedience. And with obedience came climax, driving Shelley to crave even more of the programming that was reshaping her drowsy mind.

"Look at me, sweetie." Tiffany could feel her face going beet red in a wild, furious blush, but the coaxing voice in her ears was impossible to disregard and she soon raised her head to look at the webcam even though her eyes couldn't quite meet the unblinking stare of the camera's lens. "That's it, there we go, such a pretty girl there! Don't you want to show everyone your pretty face, sweetie pie?" Vanessa's gentle praise was filled with an undertone of condescension, a subtle mockery that made Tiffany feel weak and small and helpless even as it made her cunt throb against the thrumming vibrator, and she could already tell she was discovering a kink so potent it was downright dangerous. She was going to have a hard time saying no to this from now on.

Tiffany nodded, too shy and dazed and deeply hypnotized to speak, and Vanessa must have decided to take pity on her exhibitionistic little slut this first time out because the massaging vibrator between her legs buzzed a tiny bit harder in response. "Of course you do," Vanessa purred, the patronizing approval in her voice reward enough for Tiffany's muzzy brain. "You want everyone to see who my darling plaything really is, who's submitted fully and completely to my control and become my own personal porn star. Because you've surrendered to your cunt, and your cunt gets wet when you show yourself off for strangers, isn't that right?" Tiffany whimpered, and Vanessa sadistically repeated the question. "Isn't that right, baby girl?"

Tiffany's blush spread all the way up to her forehead as she nodded again, and she squeezed her thighs around the toy with the desperate lust of a total slave to pleasure. It wasn't strangers watching her, not this first time--Vanessa had hand-selected every participant in this scene, introduced them to Tiffany and given her a chance to get comfortable with them and offered unconditional veto power over who got to watch her naked and trembling and pathetic with lust. But Tiffany's mind was too mushy and befuddled to question Vanessa's words, and in the heat of the moment it really did feel like she was being displayed for the whole fucking world to see while her cunt leaked and throbbed and made it impossible for her to resist. That was a fantasy that felt like it would take her places she wouldn't easily be able to come back from.

But it was nothing compared to what Vanessa said next. "That's my good little slut," she cooed, her dulcet tones tugging on the leash in Tiffany's mind and bringing the submissive blonde easily to heel. "You're so dumb now, dumb and weak and horny, and it's so easy for your cunt to control you when you're all slick and stupid like this. Don't you think the nice people deserve to see how dumb you really are? Don't they deserve to see your brainless slut look?" The voice in her speakers faded into an expectant pause, and the toy between Tiffany's thighs lowered its intensity to a simmering thrum that made orgasm impossible.

Tiffany knew exactly what her owner was asking for. She was intimately familiar with the ahegao expression Vanessa made her make whenever she got close to climax, but it felt almost like a step too far to ask her to do it in front of other people. That was exactly what made it so irresistibly enticing, though, and Tiffany managed to cross her eyes and stick out her tongue for a good three-count before it all became too much for her and she had to hide her face in embarrassment at her own weakness and desperation. "Good girl," she heard Vanessa murmur, and the toy's vibrations turned up all the way until Tiffany couldn't stop herself from cumming to the thought of her own degradation.

"Well, would you look at that," Bailey purred, as Darren shifted positions in the tub and his erection rose up out of the water like a surfacing submarine. The moment he saw it, his tongue began to loll out of his mouth as his jaw slackened; he found very rapidly that he had other, more important things to focus on than his dignity, and he didn't care if he wound up looking like a vapid horny himbo because he needed to trace each individual pulsebeat of pleasure that traveled from his hypnotized brain all the way to the very tip of his penis. Even Bailey herself was beginning to fade into the background as his gaze settled into a cross-eyed stare of helpless fascination.

"It'll feel even better if you touch it," Bailey chuckled, and even though Darren expected to find himself bristling at the amused condescension in her voice, the pulses of pleasure soon swamped out any other emotion. He instead found himself nodding, reaching out with his right hand to play with his stiff prick while his left continued to tease and caress his heavy, churning balls--Darren normally didn't masturbate with both hands, he used one of them to hold his phone and look at porn, but somehow the woman he'd hooked up with back at the bar had turned him into the sexiest thing he wanted to see and his cock gushed precum onto his fingers almost the second he began to stroke.

A tiny part of him wondered where all this was leading to--Bailey made everything seem like foreplay, from going back to her apartment to taking a warm bath together to relaxing in the water and listening to her talk about his stiffening dick--but he couldn't hold onto the thought because nothing else really mattered when his cock was nice and hard like this. "The less you think, the better it feels, honey," Bailey purred, a tiny giggle of amusement in her voice, and Darren realized with a start that he wasn't quite sure how many of his recent thoughts had simply been her words slipping into the back of his mind while he was preoccupied with jacking off. But another few pumping strokes made that fade away too.

The water slowly became tepid, heated only by the warmth of their bodies, but Darren didn't really notice. He was too busy sliding his fist up and down his shaft, smearing precum into the sensitive skin of his cock and grunting out thoughtless agreement to everything Bailey said. "You're such a good plaything for me, aren't you, sweetie?" she asked, and Darren found that he couldn't even really give the question a moment of careful consideration--it just felt too good to stroke, too good to stay floating in that mindless ecstasy just below the threshold of orgasm and let his mind go numb and dumb and mazy. If that meant being Bailey's toy then he was happy to do it, and his pleasure stretched endlessly on like a corridor with no end as he stared helplessly at his own twitching prick.

Eventually, she let him cum. The orgasm was intense, sending a jet of semen spraying all over his chest and belly, and the release left Darren more drowsy and dulled than ever. He felt his eyes finally slip shut as his erection softened, post-coital exhaustion combining with the trance to leave him limp in the tub, and it barely even registered when Bailey cleaned him up, drained the water, and led him to the bedroom. He was too deeply hypnotized to think anymore… and although he didn't know it, this was exactly how Bailey had wanted him from the beginning.

"w-wait…." Toni mumbled, her voice slurred and sleepy as she struggled to stir her feeble mind into even a single coherent thought. "s-something's not… not, um…." She trailed off into silence when her client slowly, sensuously traced her tongue along the curve of Toni's surprisingly sensitive ear, the unexpected sensation popping whatever notion Toni was trying to form before she could come to a conclusion. She felt the other woman's slick, oiled-up body rubbing against hers, and that stirred an undefinable sense of wrongness again but Toni was too comfortable lying face-down on the massage table to really follow it. She couldn't even open her eyes right now, much less work out what had happened.

It did eventually occur to her just how rarely she was in this position--usually it was women like Miss Gandy who lay there, limp and insensate on the padded table, and Toni was the one who remained awake and aware and in control of the situation. She vaguely remembered the other woman saying something to her about that, about how common it must be to watch her clients slowly descend into a deep trance as the sensation of warm, strong fingers against their skin relaxed every bit of tension out of their feet, their calves, their thighs…. Miss Gandy had described it in such vivid detail that Toni could have sworn she was actually feeling each caress, and all while lying on her back with her legs parted in a way Toni couldn't help thinking of as slightly lewd.

But Toni's memory got a little bit foggy after that, and she once again tried to stir her sluggish brain into some kind of comprehension as she muttered, "…did i, um… why did i….?" before her mind simply collapsed into confusion leaving the question unframed. She knew she was lying on her own massage table, she knew her body was coated in massage oil and Miss Gandy was on top of her rubbing it into her own slick flesh, but the details were muddled and jumbled. She couldn't quite remember whether the waves of lethargy crumbled her will into obedient indolence before or after she took her clothes off, or when exactly she slipped and stumbled in her efforts to remain standing and her client suggested a few moments of rest. Just to clear her head, although obviously that hadn't gone well.

Toni couldn't understand why she was having so many problems thinking right now, but she assumed it was because she was a weak-willed, horny slut who just needed her pussy played with. She didn't know why that single and particular notion stayed fixed in her head like the North Star while so many of her other thoughts crumbled into oblivion, either, but Miss Gandy kept murmuring softly in her ears and it just tangled up her mind faster than she could sort herself out and make sense of what was happening to her. That was probably because she was a dumb slut too, and Toni's legs spread wider and wider in anticipation of the caress that she knew she craved far too badly to ever resist. Being touched by Miss Gandy would absolutely wreck her for any other pleasure, Toni realized, fully crystalizing her new identity as a fucktoy… and with a tiny start, she discovered that she couldn't imagine wanting anything more.

It was always a bit of a shock when Tandy saw her own face in the videos; she was used to looking at it the mirror, seeing it stare back at her with confidence and charisma and sharp-witted intelligence, and she almost couldn't believe she was looking at herself when Don showed her the footage of their first session together. She'd just never imagined she could look that--that dumb, with her eyes rolling back until only the whites showed and one eyelid drooping a little further than the other and her lips curling into a dopey, drowsy grin. It wasn't even Tandy's 'O' face, even though she could remember exactly what Don was doing to her slick pussy when she smiled like that. It was the hypnosis.

That alone was enough to make her ask him to do it to her again, and to record it all again as well. She hadn't been exactly sure about that part when he first brought it up; she'd insisted on using her own phone to make the video, so she could retain full control of the footage and it wouldn't get posted to some revenge site or other, and some of her worries were immediately allayed when Don agreed to the condition without getting huffy or weird about it. She knew some guys would, especially older white guys, but he explained that he really just wanted her to see it as a convincer once she came back up and her conscious mind began to rationalize away the trance as 'just playing along'. Tandy knew she wasn't playing along once she saw that face.

It became kind of a fetish for her, muting the video so she couldn't hear the induction that dropped her and just watching her jaw slacken and her eyes roll back and her face melt into that same dozy, dreamy smile time after time. Don was always happy to sit with her and play with her pussy all over again, teasing Tandy until her musk was smeared all over her puffy brown labia and she was practically panting with ecstasy, but even after she went home the images of her own hypnotized expression became Tandy's favorite porn. She got into it so intensely it was almost like she was sinking into trance all over again, albeit a much lighter and less directed one where she could actually keep her fucking eyes open for a change.

Don never asked her to reciprocate--he knew Tandy was kind of a pillow princess in that regard, she'd made that very clear right from the get-go--but she could tell from the urgency behind his thrusts that her submission made him hard and horny. She sometimes daydreamed of letting him replace his fingers with his cock, fucking her until neither one of them could stand it anymore and his jizz filled up her unprotected cunt, and a part of her wondered whether she'd hear that fantasy described in mesmerizingly intimate detail if she unmuted the videos and listened to the words she could never fully remember.

But Tandy trusted her hypnotist, and he never pressed the issue, and with three years of grad school still remaining she knew better than to give in to her urges. She needed to get her PhD before she could think about a serious relationship, let alone having kids… although every once in a while, Tandy looked at the face of the dumb, dopey slut in the videos and came hard wondering if that girl had as much willpower as she did.

In the end, it was the special sense of fulfillment that defeated Taylor. She had willpower to spare, yes, but she also had a degree in LGBT Studies that didn't open any doors for her professionally and an unsatisfying job that was literally just pushing papers for eight hours a day and a drifting sense of discontent that left her filling her free time with weed and porn and video games. When Paul murmured to her, "Pleasing cock is your purpose," it stuck in Taylor's hypnotized brain not because she was weak and helpless but because it felt so good to finally have a purpose that she instantly clung to the one he provided.

Not that this was the plan when she first began to sink into that reverent hush inside her mind. She thought Paul was mostly just kidding, offering some kind of roleplay scenario where he was the Evil Hypnotist and she was the nubile young grad student who couldn't keep her eyes off his mesmerizing cock. She agreed blithely, assuming she'd wind up just listening to his dirty talk and giving him oral for a little while before they got down to the business of fucking they were both there for--that was the think about a hookup app, you met some freaky guys sometimes and that was fine so long as you both got what you were there for. Taylor was bored, she was horny, and her favorite toys weren't getting the job done. She needed dick and she'd put up with some rigmarole to get it.

Only… it didn't turn out to be bullshit. When Paul started talking to her in that low, soothing voice of his, murmuring softly while Taylor followed the twitching tip of his prick, she legitimately started to feel her eyes getting tired and heavy. She genuinely felt her focus and attention narrowing down to the tiny beads of precum dribbling from his cock, flowing out and reminding her of the arousal pulsing away between her thighs, and it didn't seem like very long at all before Taylor was blinking long, slow, lazy blinks that emptied out her head and left her staring at Paul's dick in vacant fascination. By the time she actually extended her tongue to give him that first lick, there was nothing affected or fake about her descent into trance.

And he knew it, too. He began coaxing her with warm, gentle praise, telling her what a good job she was doing pleasing him, associating each flick of her tongue against his sensitive glans with an accompanying throb of ecstasy in her own clit until Taylor genuinely felt like sucking dick made her cunt wet. Her eyes went glassy and unfocused, her thoughts slowed to a stop, and she discovered that she frankly kind of adored being down between Paul's legs giving him a long, sloppy blowjob. It contented her to be so totally absorbed in a single activity, to make her lover happy and experience such bliss in return, and when he murmured that single phrase, "Pleasing cock is your purpose," it just kind of… sunk in. Deeper than she ever thought it would.

She wound up putting Paul's number in her phone after they fucked, calling him up the next night and asking if they could do the same thing again, and it never even occurred to her that second time to ask him to do anything with her pussy. She didn't need to get her itch scratched, not when it felt so good to suck Paul's cock, and Taylor found herself going a lot deeper that second night. But she knew that was only the beginning of his control.

"Um… uhhh… hi." It wasn't Shauna's nudity that told Kyra the plan was working. It wasn't even the dazed, distracted tone in her stupefied roommate's voice or the little black choker she wore around her throat. It was the difficulty Shauna had in tearing her gaze away from the tall, narrow pyramid-shaped lamp sitting on the end table next to the couch when Kyra came home. Shauna had a book open in her lap, and she'd been talking all night last night about how much studying she had to do today. But the fractal patterns on the surface of the lamp had sucked her right in and were holding her there to the point where even a big distraction like Kyra's arrival could barely break the grip it had on her mind.

That was… god, that was so fucking perfect. "Hey roomie," Kyra chirruped, pretending she didn't notice Shauna's spread legs or the slickness clinging to her flushed pink labia. "How's the studying going?" The question was a bit of a test, not that Shauna would know that; if the lamp had done its work the way it was supposed to, Kyra would know it from the way Shauna answered and she'd be able to take the next step in the scenario she'd so elaborately constructed. And if it didn't, well, she was just a friendly roommate taking an interest in her friend's life and routine. It allowed Kyra a certain amount of plausible deniability that simply snapping her fingers and commanding Shauna into obedience would not.

But Kyra already knew how Shauna was going to answer just from the way her brow furrowed in bemused incomprehension. "Um, yeah, I'm like… I'm having trouble with some of the big words?" she burbled, the tiny filigree of uptalk at the end of her sentence suggesting she was almost as confused by her own confusion as she was by her academic difficulties. "I was going to ask if you could maybe, um, come over here and help me." The Shauna of this morning would have bitten through her own tongue rather than ask for help with her schoolwork--years of dumb blonde jokes had left the young woman incredibly sensitive about her own intelligence and determined to power through the most difficult material entirely on her own. But the new Shauna, the one Kyra had shaped and molded, could barely make sense of the squiggles on the page.

Which was exactly what Kyra was looking for in a roommate. "Of course I can help," she said, sitting down next to Shauna and sliding the book away from the other woman. "You just tell me what you need to know, and I'll put those thoughts right into your empty little head." The words were deliberately phrased to force Shauna into questioning her situation, prompting her to look down at where the book was and notice her bare thigh instead of the comfy sweatpants she put on to do her studying. Kyra watched, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, as Shauna's brow furrowed even harder on realizing just how sluggish and numb her thoughts had become and just how condescending Kyra sounded in her evaluation of Shauna's intellect… and exactly as expected, the programming in her brain prompted her to look into the lamp for answers. And once she began to stare into the patterns she was instantly gone.

It was child's play to pose Shauna on her hands and knees after that, squatting on the couch with her head turned toward the lamp and her eyes going glassy with fascination. Kyra played with her new plaything's pussy for literal hours while she stared vacantly at the flashing colors, making it gush and drip with arousal, and while she made sure by the end of it that Shauna remembered everything she needed to pass her tests she also made sure to plant triggers that would make Shauna stupid all over again whenever Kyra wanted her to be. Because she didn't want to wreck her roommate's academic career… but nothing made her happier than having a dumb, giggly slut around the place.

"Ummm… w-why is everyone staring at me?" Luci asked, feeling the slight heat of a full-body blush beginning to stir against her pale skin. She felt like she had a million guesses even before her host answered her--she felt distinctly underdressed for this kind of fancy, decadent crowd, she didn't know anybody in the room except for Malcolm and she'd only met him yesterday, and she hadn't exactly received a formal invitation to the party he was hosting. She knew she was distinctly out of place here, and even though it felt rude to simply leave she couldn't stop herself from at least confronting Malcolm with her misgivings in the hopes of getting some kind of reassurance out of the handsome older man.

But what happened instead was the exact opposite. "Because you're the entertainment, darling," he murmured, fixing Luci's confused gaze with his sparkling blue eyes while he took her by the wrist and led her over to the coffee table in the center of the room. "You're not a guest, remember? You're here to show off what a well-trained girl you are for all my important friends, and you don't want to disappoint them, do you?" Luci could see a dildo suction-cupped to the painted wooden surface of the table, but only in the very corner of her field of vision… and it occurred to her then just how difficult it was to tear herself away from Malcolm's captivating, charismatic stare, but Luci felt far too small and weak and inferior to do anything about it. She wasn't even a guest here. She was just the--the entertainment.

She heard herself whimper, "No sir. I don't want to disappoint your important friends, sir," and the simpering meekness in Luci's voice seemed to settle into her mind like a lock clicking shut. She couldn't stop herself from crawling onto the coffee table, guided in every movement by Malcolm's firm and confident hand, and she couldn't make herself so much as flinch when he threaded a silver chain around the legs of the table before hooking it into place on the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. The full scope of just how underdressed Luci was in nothing but black leather cuffs and a corresponding collar finally hit her then, but all it did was cement that feeling of pathetic degradation that kept dragging her deeper into Malcolm's power. She hadn't even noticed she was naked. His control over her was that complete.

The actual substance of her day with Malcolm began to resurface in Luci's mind, breaking apart the vague and muddled impression of a normal evening spent with a rich, handsome older man and replacing it with hours of deep hypnosis and intense mental conditioning… but of course knowing she was Malcolm's subjugated slave did nothing to free her from her programming. If anything it intensified the feeling of helplessness she felt. "Be a dear and shove this into your cunt," Malcolm said, guiding Luci's hips back until the dildo was nestled between her slick labia, and Luci felt a surge of absolutely irresistible ecstasy as she complied.

She spent the rest of the party like that, fucking herself on the toy until her cunt was sore and the table underneath her was a mess of dripping musk, and every compliment she received on her obedience only made Luci feel that much more degraded and inferior to the people watching her. She felt certain that they would all have been able to fight Malcolm's hypnotic control, that they all knew she was a weak and helpless slut and they were amused by her pathetic defenselessness… and even more shamefully, Luci couldn't stop herself from cumming at the sight of all those condescending, patronizing stares directed her way.

She--she had closed the bathroom door, hadn't she? Of course she had. She must have. Billie was sneaking off to the bathroom to masturbate, she wouldn't do that and leave the door wide open so that just anybody wandering past could see her. Secure in her certainty and without so much as a glance over to the side to confirm it, Billie went into the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the massaging wand her host sometimes used for her sore shoulder. Not that they didn't all know what it was really for, but if Rhianna said she wasn't a pervert like the rest of them then fine, she probably wouldn't even care what Billie did with it.

A tiny glimmer of concern flickered into Billie's mind for a moment as she shrugged her way out of her black cocktail dress and shimmied her panties onto the floor before picking them up, neatly folding them, and setting them on the bathroom counter. Did she… did she really need to undress this completely for a furtive masturbation session with all of Rhianna's other guests just down the hall? Yes, the door was shut, and she knew that so she didn't even need to look in that direction, but still. She could have just hiked up her skirt and pressed the buzzing toy up against the thin satin fabric of her underwear. She didn't need to--Billie found her hands moving to pull her bra up, exposing her pale pink breasts, before she could even finish wondering how naked she needed to be right now.

But once it was done it was done, and Billie decided she could wait until after she'd relieved her sexual tension to worry about how much of her naked body was exposed right now. She pressed the head of the vibrator to her slick labia and turned it on, and thankfully everyone back in the living room was distracted with that hypnotist Rhianna had invited because the toy was incredibly loud. Frankly, if it wasn't for him Billie wouldn't even have tried this, but not because his corny patter and cheesy swinging watch had actually worked on her or anything. She just meant that he provided the perfect cover for her sneaky little fuck session, and nobody would be any the wiser.

Which wasn't to say that… okay, this was the first time she'd ever heard of 'erotic hypnosis', and yes, the fantasy of what might have happened if she'd succumbed to the mesmerizing sway of that pretty pocket watch and fallen into a deep trance was at least a part of why Billie needed to cum so badly. But she'd remember if he'd actually gotten her under, the same way she remembered to shut the bathroom door before she started jilling off with this enormous vibrator, and she'd certainly know it if she was following a post-hypnotic suggestion. And because she wasn't hypnotized, that insidious little whisper in the back of her head was nothing more than her own mind coming up with great ideas and she could listen to it without any resistance at all.

And that felt… oh, fuck, it felt so good. Even more than the pleasure of cumming herself stupid, Billie loved the pleasure of agreeing with those little whispers and letting go of her resistance. If anyone did see her right now, they'd know instantly that they were looking at a total horny slut who'd given in completely to lust and desire, and Billie climaxed incredibly hard picturing all her friends walking past an open bathroom door and getting a good look at her quivering tits and humping, needy desperation. Which they couldn't because the door was shut, and Billie let out a tiny giggle at the notion of getting away with such a perfect crime.

"Now, sweetie, do you want to cum for me?" Jensen couldn't even believe Dahlia was asking the question--she had one hand cupping his tightening balls and the other wrapped around his twitching shaft, and the way her fingers pumped relentlessly up and down was driving him so wild he was practically gushing a steady stream of precum into her lubed-up palm with every stroke. He was so distracted by the pleasure that he almost had trouble formulating an answer, even though the question was remarkably simple, and his mouth hung open for a long, befuddled moment as he stared into her eyes and struggled to think.

"Y-yes!" he finally managed to stammer out, though, once it occurred to his sluggish brain that Dahlia might just take his hesitation as disinterest and keep stroking him with that same teasing intensity. She kept slowing down right at he was about to cum, turning his boiling arousal into a sultry simmer before ramping up the pace of her stimulation again, and honestly Jensen would have pushed her hands away by now and finished himself off if not for the fact that his arms hung too heavy at his sides to move right now. In fact, he felt kind of rooted to the spot, almost paralyzed by Dahlia's beautiful blue eyes and the constant stroking that kept him right on the edge of climax, and that did seem odd once he thought about it but even thought was difficult for Jensen right now.

Which was kind of embarrassing, because he'd always thought of himself as smarter than the pretty blonde on the edges of his social circle, but he couldn't deny the evidence of his own muzzy brain and Dahlia's bright, savagely condescending stare. "Of course you do, sweetie," she cooed, as though speaking to a very small child, "but you're not going to if you keep getting tangled up thinking about it. You need to let that anticipation go, and the easiest way to do that is to let all your thoughts go. Once you're completely blank, once you're totally lost in the moment and just experiencing, I just bet your cock is going to spurt all over the place, isn't it?" Jensen let out a grunt, but he didn't know whether it was agreement or just arousal driving him to give voice.

Because his brain was… god, it was practically tying itself in knots trying to figure out the paradox of what Dahlia was describing. He wanted to cum so bad, but the only way to cum was to stop wanting to cum and if he stopped wanting to cum then he would cum but that just made him want to stop wanting so he could get what he didn't want. Jensen's eyes crossed and uncrossed repeatedly trying to fit the whole notion into his small and feeble mind, and the whole time Dahlia's hand kept pumping and her fingers kept caressing his balls and god it felt so good he just couldn't fucking think--

And then it happened. Jensen's eyes went into a thousand-yard stare, his jaw went completely slack, and without even realizing that the titanic groan of pleasure he heard was coming from his own lips he jetted a torrent of sticky spunk all over Dahlia's chest and belly. "Good boy!" she purred, milking out the last of his jizz before releasing his shaft to soften on its own. "That's a very good boy, you're so mindless now, I'm so proud of you. Come over here to the couch now, let me tell you exactly what you're going to do for me when you wake…." She led him by the balls over to the soft, comfortable sofa, and Jensen went limp the instant he sat down… but Dahlia kept caressing his sack while she talked to him, and soon at least one part of him was standing straight at attention for her once more.

The light tingled. That was really the only coherent thought Sabrina had left to her, the revelation that kept floating through her otherwise numb and dozy mind--everywhere the strange pink light touched her skin, it left behind the most delightful thrill of warm, sexual pleasure and Sabrina frankly couldn't get enough. Just feeling it on her hands, her cheeks, her legs below calf height, it was enough to make her downright stupid with ecstasy, and the notion of increasing that delicious sensation led her to yank off her modest dress almost before she could realize she was doing it. When the light played across her inner thighs, Sabrina's brain practically melted under the onslaught of bliss.

She heard a voice from the overhead speakers, praising her for her smart decision, and Sabrina couldn't help giggling because even then she knew she was getting dumber by the second. The pleasure from the light gummed up her brain, sticking all her thoughts together until they were hopelessly entangled, and she could tell that her mind was going to keep getting mushier the more she absorbed the strange pink radiance. But intelligence seemed hopelessly overrated compared to that wonderful, overwhelming ecstasy pounding away at her whole body, and almost before she knew it her shirt was crumpled up on the floor and her bra was flung heedlessly to the other side of the room. When her panties followed, they already had an obvious wet spot from her arousal.

Sabrina knew there were cameras everywhere in the booth, recording her responses to the effect and capturing every last detail of the experience, but the idea of showing off to all these oversexed and underfucked research scientists just what their gadget was doing to her made Sabrina incredibly wet right now. She spread her legs wide, exposing her pale thighs and puffy labia to the pink light, and when her gaze fell on the vibrators sitting on the table in front of her she looked at them not with the scoffing disdain she'd held a few minutes ago but with raw, undisguised lust. The insertable went straight into her slick pussy without a moment's hesitation, and the massaging wand nestled right up against her clit while Sabrina basked in the praise from the speakers overhead.

She wound up giving them her best ahegao face--not out of any performative impulse to make herself into their pornstar slut, but simply because her eyes kept crossing and uncrossing as the pleasure built and grew and her tongue kept lolling out of her open mouth while she focused her entire remaining mind on the potent buzz between her thighs. Everything tingled all over, her tits soaking up pink light and turning into incandescent arousal, and Sabrina discovered that cumming with the glow on her skin was like getting stoned and fucked all at the same time. She just… fuck, she was so stupid, she was so wet, she was so horny, and once the light got into her brain it felt like her climax never needed to end.

Sabrina was more than a little embarrassed when the light went off and her mind returned to normal--it took less than thirty seconds before she was fully aware of the mess she left on the sofa underneath her, and the river of drool soaking her tits. Turning off the pink light was like a glass of cold water to the brain, waking her up and making her realize just how pathetically dumb and horny she'd become under the influence of the strange radiance… but the booth wouldn't unlock, and she soon understood that the experiment wasn't actually over. They were just testing to see how long it took to return her to normal, and once they knew that they activated the device again and reduced her to mush within a matter of seconds.

"Awww, did you really think you were going to win this time?" Fran asked, a tiny chuckle in her voice as she teased Jerri's clit until the petite blonde couldn't help gasping with euphoric bliss. "That's so cute, sweetie, but I think we both know how weak and wet this kind of play makes you. Look, your own hand is barely even moving now." Jerri realized with a start that her friend was absolutely right--she'd been so completely consumed with the rush of pleasure she was experiencing that her fingers had slowed to a distracted halt in Fran's pussy, giving the other woman an entirely unfair advantage in their contest for dominance. She hadn't intended that to happen.

She tried to get her head back in the game, but Fran responded to her spasmodic efforts with a peal of laughter and a spate of wild, furious rubbing that left Jerri's mouth hanging open in a howl of ecstasy. "This is going to be your fourth time in a row losing to me, pretty girl," Fran cooed, pitching her voice low and enticing as though defeat was not only the inexorable outcome but the one Jerri would eventually come to crave. "You just keep cumming before I do, and it keeps making you weaker, and honestly it wouldn't surprise me if that needy little cunt of yours just starts throwing the match for you. Is that what's happening, babe? Is your sexy cunny making you too dumb and wet to ever win?"

A tiny part of Jerri's mind bristled with wounded pride at the insinuation; she liked to think she was really trying to win their playful competition every time they fell into bed together, and more than that she felt like conceding this particular point of contention would leave her a little more vulnerable to Fran's future manipulations than she should really let herself become. But the much larger, more urgently aroused and far more overwhelmingly powerful part of Jerri knew how good it was going to feel once she gave up and went limp and let her friend finger-fuck her to one climax after another until she was limp and trembling, and she couldn't deny it--that part of her was in charge right now. "…d-dumb and wet…." she heard herself mumble, in a voice that sounded so dazed with lust that a casual listener wouldn't be able to tell if there was any thought at all behind the words.

Certainly Fran seemed to believe that. "Good girl," she purred, pushing her fingers in between Jerri's labia to settle into a rhythm of thrusting the blonde knew all too well. "Pretty Jerri's dumb and wet, pretty Jerri's a weak and horny girl who thinks with her cunt, and pretty Jerri always loses because it feels so good." Jerri had a muzzy memory of hearing words like this the last time they wound up having a little roll in the hay, and in fact once she really brought her mind to bear on the question she kind of ended up realizing this entire game had been Fran's idea. But of course she couldn't fully concentrate on anything but the relentless throb in her clit and the slick squishing noises in her pussy, and eventually it just became easier to repeat Fran's words back to her and cum her brains out. And already, her dripping cunt was looking forward to their next little competition.