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.

"I--umm--wowwwww…." Krissy's eyes momentarily rolled back in her head as the first surge of pleasure hit, but she soon refocused them on the mesmerizing spiral on the screen in front of her and continued to follow the warm swirls of pink as they disappeared into the darkness. "D-does this always feel, uhhh, does this always feel so good?" Every word felt laborious to assemble into a completed thought, the effort so much that she had to start over and take a second run at finishing her sentence, and she legitimately couldn't tell whether it was Bobbi's hand down her panties or the pleasure of her captivated fascination that made her mind so fuzzy with bliss. She only knew she wanted it to keep going.

"Oh, yes, sweetie," Bobbi purred, keeping her body angled away from the screen and her eyes firmly locked onto her own fingers. That felt like it should have been a red flag, but the only colors in Krissy's mind right now were pink and black and they alternated in smooth, swirling curves that sucked every other thought out of her empty head. Even Bobbi's hand, rubbing away at Krissy's pussy underneath her translucent panties, was a mere blur of motion at the corners of her field of vision--it felt wonderful, ecstatic, better than any of the young college sophomore's fumbling experiments with masturbation, but she couldn't bring herself to focus on it. Even when Bobbi added, "It's always going to feel this good," it simply went in one ear and out the other.

She heard herself grunt, "S-so good," as though the effort of coming up with her own thoughts was now too much for her and she was left with nothing but the scraps and remnants of Bobbi's speech to stitch into her half of the conversation, but even that felt like it was coming from somewhere distant and unimportant--Krissy's only real concern was for the spiral, the way it turned endlessly inward, the way it flickered with text that she only ever noticed a little too late for her conscious mind to register what it was telling her. A trickle of drool dripped from Krissy's chin onto her dark green halter top, soaking it through with saliva, but she didn't care about that. There was a more important wet spot on her mind and it was right over where Bobbi's fingers kept rubbing her.

"That's right," Bobbi cooed, her middle finger slipping inside the cleft between Krissy's slick labia, "it's so good to be my dirty little secret, isn't it?" Krissy's head went up and down like it was on strings, instantly and easily accepting not just the words but the entire framework of context around them. She'd thought she was going down to the basement to help her landlady clean out the old storage room in exchange for a discount on next month's rent, but now she understood that all the clutter and the old couch and the television set that seemed broken was just part of the lure that Bobbi used to draw women like her to a cozy, private place where they could be hypnotized in peace. They weren't testing the TV at all, Bobbi knew what it worked and what played on it, and Krissy….

Krissy didn't know anything anymore. Her head lolled forward, slumping onto her chest as she gave up the struggle to keep her heavy eyes open and sank into deep, irresistible trance. It meant she couldn't see the spiral anymore, at least not outside of her imagination, but she was so relaxed and open that Bobbi could easily talk her through the rest of her programming. And as she came hard around the other woman's fingers, she knew she would happily soak up every last bit of her conditioning by the time her body was wrung out with ecstasy and ready to sink into true sleep.

"Ohhhhh…." Josie stared down with rapt fascination at her own rubbing fingers, her eyes dull and glassy and her lips parted in an expression of vacant bliss as she sank deeper into trance. It looked like she'd entirely forgotten Tara's presence in the room; she was simply so captivated by the pleasure her body was capable of without a mind to get in the way that she no longer listened to the other woman's low, soothing tones on anything more than a purely subconscious level. She just wanted to play with her slick, messy cunt and experience the overwhelming bliss it gave her, and that gave Tara all the time in the world to reshape the pretty redhead's newly malleable mind.

Josie occasionally managed something close to a word, like when she mumbled, "oh, wowww," but her speech was made slurred and sleepy by the slackness of her jaw and she never managed to string together anything approaching a coherent thought. She just sat there, her fingertips gradually wrinkling as her pussy leaked onto them, and the only real sign she heard Tara at all was when the blonde woman told her to play with her tits and Josie's free hand drifted up to squeeze and pinch her nipple like she was moving underwater. If she had even the slightest awareness of how little of her clothing was left on her body by this point, it wasn't readily apparent. She simply rubbed herself dumber and deeper while Tara smoothly, relentlessly programmed her.

The first step was obvious--Tara linked the pleasure blossoming in Josie's slick and swollen clit to deep trance, suggesting that any time she returned to this state it would feel just as good and make her just as happy. Another suggestion fed into the shy, prudish young woman's embarrassment about sex and sexuality, easily and effortlessly convincing her that she didn't need to feel any guilt or shame if she simply tucked the memory of being hypnotized into a vault inside her mind that only Tara had the key to. Josie nodded absently and muttered, "uh, uh huh," the words already forgotten on a conscious level but thoroughly internalized by her subconscious self, and just like that Tara had a backdoor into her friend's mind she could use to return her to mindless obedience whenever she wanted.

Tara continued by talking Josie through her first climax, and it was so delightful to hear the prim and proper sophomore who blushed even to hear profanity moaning out, "ohhh, ffffuuuckkkk," as she came all over her fingers. Tara was careful to link the pleasure to the notion of women and women's bodies, tangling up Josie's subconscious so that her dawning sexuality would forever link cunts with arousal, and it gratified her to no end when she told Josie to lick her messy digits clear and the hypnotized woman plunged them in and out of her drooling mouth with every sign of enjoyment. Tara knew her friend's brain was releasing a flood of post-coital hormones, all of which combined to make her even more suggestible than trance alone.

She didn't make Josie reciprocate that day, instead allowing the mesmerized woman to alternate between slow, sensual masturbation and sucking the musk from her fingers so that Josie could readily associate the taste of cunt with unbelievable pleasure. Tara was a patient woman, after all, and she knew that a slow, certain conditioning stood the best chance of success. But she did record one of Tara's more demonstrative orgasms… and Tara already knew, even before she helped her friend dress and woke her back up with instructions to elide the missing time, that she'd be masturbating to it herself by the end of the night.

"I… I think you should go." It wasn't exactly the most forceful way to tell Madison to leave, and certainly it was far from the kind of snappy comeback Olivia had hoped for, but her wits were dulled by the constant throb of lust between her legs and she was too busy reminding herself what a mistake it would be to shove her hand down the front of her pants to come up with anything smarter. Or more insistent, which was kind of a problem because even though Madison shut the door to Olivia's dorm room it was with her still on the inside and the vivacious blonde didn't look even slightly apologetic about her continued presence. If anything, she looked amused by Olivia's attempt at defiance.

"No you don't," she intoned, and Olivia put out a hand to steady herself as the tone of cool command in the other woman's voice made her cunt spasm in undisguised lust. "You don't think at all when it's just the two of us, Liv, and we both know it. You don't think because you just keep getting wetter and wetter, and wet girls are weak girls and weak girls are horny girls and horny girls are hypnotized girls so what's happening to you right now, Liv?" The answer popped instantly into Olivia's head, and even though she managed to stop herself from saying it the sheer conditioned immediacy of the response made her fingers twitch with the desire to masturbate. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she ceded vast amounts of her mental real estate in favor of simply keeping her hand away from her pussy.

But she couldn't keep herself from jamming her hand down her pants and keep her mind from sliding into deep trance and keep herself from answering Madison's question all at the same time--it was like spinning plates, a constant dance of divided attention and continuous effort on too many fronts to hold, and Olivia heard herself mumble, "I'm being… hypnotized…." in slurred and sleepy tones that sounded like they were coming from someone else entirely. That just made Olivia's clit swell and pulse even harder, because one of Madison's many convincers was the sound of Olivia's own mesmerized voice and the moment she heard it she dropped deeper, but she told herself it would be fine so long as she didn't give in and masturbate. She could still hold onto herself so long as she held that line.

Which was what made it so utterly demoralizing when Madison murmured, "That's my good girl," and the surge of slick, hot pleasure that met those words finally made her notice her own finger skating back and forth against her throbbing clit. Olivia tried to refocus her gaze, to look down at the waistband of her jeans to see if she'd really shoved her hand into her pants so she could rub herself stupid for Madison… again… but she couldn't figure out how to make her fluttery eyelids open or to keep her eyes from rolling straight back until only the whites showed and there was just too much urgency to her arousal to unpack all the confusing events of the last few minutes. The only thing Olivia clearly understood was that she needed to cum, and surrendering to Madison would make it happen.

That was what eventually broke her, and Olivia shuddered and moaned and leaned heavily on the desk as her own rubbing fingers took away the last of her will in a burst of culminating pleasure. She might have managed to snap out of it then, taking advantage of that moment of post-nut clarity to shake her trance, but Madison was already right behind her and the confident blonde's hands were already sliding up under Olivia's shirt to play with her small, pert titties, and that just reminded Olivia of too many trances to count. She slipped away into deep hypnosis, and Madison guided her over to the bed to begin yet another session of reinforcement that would leave Olivia that much weaker for the next time… and the next, and the next, and the next.

It always made a very particular sound when Scarlett's vibrator found a signal connecting to it on the Bluetooth network; it was a sort of loud, humming rattle that always made her glance over at the toy sitting on her desk next to the computer to see what the noise was. And when she saw the hot pink toy with the long tail that picked up wi-fi signals from a controller that could literally be anywhere in the country, Scarlett's eyes always glazed over and her lips parted as it finally sank in just how odd it was to have a masturbation aid nearby at all times. Especially one that could be operated by someone else. By… by remote… control….

That was usually her last effort at coherent thought for a while, as the trigger inside her mind made her blurt out her corresponding mantra out loud. "I'm a remote controlled fucktoy," she babbled, the words coming out a tiny bit slurred and sloppy because Scarlett was already having trouble reeling her tongue back into her mouth, and she found herself clicking through to a very particular website and changing her status to 'This Slut Is Online' before turning on her webcam and pushing the vibrator into her suddenly slick cunt. Scarlett didn't remember visiting this site, at least not consciously, but she also didn't remember stripping naked every time she sat down at her computer to do a bit of writing and she put her lack of productivity on her latest fanfic down to general distraction. Scarlett was very good at forgetting what she needed to forget.

She was also very good at remembering what she needed to remember, and what Scarlett needed to remember right now was that her fans loved to see her pretty face and her pretty pussy while she was playing with herself. She stood up and pushed the computer chair aside, backing up so she could sit on the bed with her legs spread and her face now fully settled into an expression of ahegao bliss, and she knew instantly that she was making someone happy by the way the toy began to pulse and buzz in a pattern she recognized very well. She associated it with deeper trance and mindless obedience, and her waking self would have been astonished to know that she had so many triggers specific to the particular rhythms of her vibrator but then again her waking self was the one who couldn't resist visiting this site in the first place.

It only took a matter of minutes before Scarlett's brain was fully empty, her cross-eyed stare lost in the spiral as words appeared and disappeared to be accepted without question by her dazed and foggy mind. Every command and every mantra was paid for by her fans, who tipped to activate the toy and tipped to choose the pattern and tipped to select the specific commands that conditioned her ever deeper into vapid submission, and all that money went into an account that Scarlett didn't remember opening and that paid for her rent and utilities. Scarlett never gave the slightest bit of concern to those mundane details of her existence, but she did know she had a lot of free time to write fanfic these days and she enjoyed that aspect of her existence.

She enjoyed fucking herself stupid and drooling all over her tits, too, but those memories always faded into a warm glow of absent-minded pleasure once the toy went silent and she cleaned herself up. Scarlett didn't need to know what she did to pay her bills… but she did need to wash off the toy, make sure it was fully charged, and put it back where she found it for the next time someone needed to take remote control of her brain.

"Um, well, uhh, yeah, I--I guess." Bobby didn't remember exactly what he was agreeing with, but the mellow pulses of pleasure that radiated out from his stiff prick were so nice and soothing that he didn't feel like he particularly had to remember. Megan was taking care of that part of the conversation, all the big smart words and important thinking stuff, and Bobby was just stroking lazily up and down his hard shaft while his expression drifted into amiable indifference and his gaze fixated on the windchimes just outside Megan's window. It felt a little odd to be jacking off in front of his sister's best friend, but Megan had already taken care of that, too.

"Yeah, no, sure, that makes… um, sense." The words that made so much sense when he heard them were already fading from Bobby's mind by the time he finished answering Megan, and all that really stuck in his head was something about not cumming. Which, yeah, he probably shouldn't be jacking off in front of a woman he'd known since they were in middle school together until he spurted hot sticky jizz all over his chest and belly, but Bobby felt a little bit befuddled trying to figure out how the whole issue had come up in the first place. Every time he tried, he felt another surge of pleasure that sent a gush of precum out of the tip of his prick and onto his stroking fingers, and that made it impossible to concentrate so Bobby just stopped trying.

"What, um, uhhh… yeah. Sure. Whatever you say." Agreeing with Megan sent another swell of pleasure all the way down from his stupefied brain straight into the tip of his penis, and Bobby was actually kind of grateful to her for reminding him not to cum because he was pretty sure he would have lost his nut by now if left to his own devices. He felt a little bit sheepish about that--Bobby wasn't exactly the intellectual type at the best of times, and the boiling tension in his heavy balls was making him feel downright stupid with lust--but he didn't need to worry about it. Megan was taking care of all the smart stuff for him, so he could just stroke himself dumber and… and deeper? Bobby's brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to puzzle out what that meant.

"Yeah. Deeper," he found himself mumbling, as the challenging concept proved too much for his sluggish and feeble wits. It was simply too hard to think and stroke at the same time, and if Bobby had the choice he knew which he'd rather be doing. Not that he exactly felt like he had much of a choice about anything anymore, but that was fine because Megan was making all the right decisions for him and he could simply sit back, relax, and let his brain lapse into indolent bliss. Bobby's furrowed brow smoothed back out into placid euphoria as his jaw slackened, and if he noticed himself drooling a little bit he didn't really feel like he had the energy to try and stop it. He just wanted to… to obey.

"Yes. I obey." That was a truly wonderful word, Bobby thought absently, although increasingly it was hard to call what he was doing 'thinking' in any meaningful sense of the word. He was stroking, he was smiling, and he was agreeing like a good boy, and it felt so good to be a good boy that Bobby never wanted to stop. His eyes glazed over until Megan's windchimes were a rainbow shimmer in his unfocused gaze, and he sank ever deeper into hypnotized fascination as Megan told him what he needed to do to be a better slave for her.