Your Cute Little Robot Maid!

It took about a week before Belle let herself into Sam's apartment, walked into his bedroom in nothing more than a belly tee and a pair of lacy panties that were practically see-through, and murmured, "I think I'm a good girl now, Sir." But Sam knew it was coming this whole time. Belle still had her chunky black headphones on, after all… and even though she hadn't said anything to him about even listening to the files, let alone succumbing to the suggestions he'd planted in them, this moment was every bit as inevitable and inescapable as the route of water circling the drain. Each individual droplet might think it could get away from the pull of gravity, but in the end it was just part of the whirlpool.

Belle probably had spirals on the brain too, but of a different kind and in a different way. Her eyes shone brightly with mesmerized affection when Sam said, "Good girl!" and patted a spot on the bed for her to sit, and she didn't really seem all that conscious of the situation despite leaning into his touch like a purring kitten when he put his hand on her hip. He wondered idly just how many times she'd listened to the files over the last three weeks, but figuring it out was more math than he was in the mood for doing right now with a stiffening prick and a sexy hypnoslave right there in front of him just waiting to fuck. It was however many hours she had in the day divided by the length of the file, because Belle wouldn't have been able to resist that addictive pleasure for very long.

Not that she would have tried all that hard. It was Belle who asked for a personalized hypnosis file, after all, and Belle who shyly confessed that she had a fantasy of being gradually brainwashed into irresistible compliance until she found herself unable to fight the compulsion to come to her new Master and inform him of her inevitable surrender. That tiny little squeak Belle gave Sam when his hand crept between her thighs and found a pussy so soaking wet that her panties were saturated with musk was the sound of her fantasy finding its fulfillment, and Sam knew Belle only ever struggled because it felt so good to her to be defeated by the power of his conditioning on her weak and malleable mind. But it was still hot to see her like this.

Because what Sam knew that Belle didn't… well, maybe… was that the conditioning was real and it worked. It might have been Belle's sexy, horny daydream that made her request a file from him once she found out who he was, and it might have fed deeply and passionately into her fetish to feel that inescapable tug on her mind drawing her back into another listen and another edge session, but that didn't mean the brainwashing wasn't real and true and permanent. Belle didn't come over and utter the words that had been pressing down harder and harder on her subconscious for the last six days because she was turned on and wanted to fuck. She did it because the programming had finally penetrated all the way down to the very core of her identity and she really, truly wanted to be owned now. "You're mine, aren't you, sweetie?" he asked, and the simpering little nod Belle gave him told Sam everything about how things were going to be from now on.

"I just want you to be aware that you could still say no," Jon lies, brushing the hair out of Olivia's face so he can watch her deep brown eyes glaze over into deeper trance. "Hypnosis isn't magic, there's nothing stopping you from using that pretty mouth of yours to tell me to stop instead of licking precum off the tip of my cock, and as deep as you are right now you could still summon up the willpower to resist me." Olivia blinks for the first time in almost a minute, and he knows she's trying to parse some of the words he's taken clean out of her vocabulary only to inevitably fail. He's left absolutely nothing to chance here, and even this speech is all part of his strategy to enslave his favorite toy.

"But you're not, are you?" he asks, his voice a soothing coo as he smooths away the furrows in Olivia's brow as fast as they form, leaving her with no choice but to imagine Jon's fingers brushing her thoughts aside like so many cobwebs. "No, you're just kneeling there, licking and slurping your way up and down my shaft so you can tongue my balls before you work your way back up to the tip and get a fresh spurt of precum into your mouth. Why do you think that is, sweetie? Do you think you can use your big girl words and tell me why you're so weak and wet and needy for my cock?" For a long moment, Olivia stares up at him with the vacuous placidity of a cow before it finally occurs to her that she's being asked to do more than just mindlessly agree with him. It's adorable to watch her try to think.

It's even more adorable to watch her fail, as the gears in her brain grind and clash and she finally remembers what she needs to do when she doesn't know what to say or how to answer. Olivia's mouth engulfs Jon's cock, swallowing him all the way down until her lips touch his balls, and her eyelids droop and flutter with ecstasy at the sheer relief of being able to shed the burden of conscious thought all over again to focus on his mesmerizing prick. "That's right, good girl," he purrs, stroking her hair without holding her head in place. An essential part of this strategy is that Olivia should never feel forced into anything. "You don't need to worry your pretty little head about it."

She sighs with pleasure at that, lifting herself up and off his prick to rub her face all over the shaft, smearing her smiling cheeks with spit and precum until she's an absolute mess. "The truth is, you can't say no because you don't want to say no, because deep down you just want to be my horny little cockslut and give your mind over to your Master. You never wanted a will of your own, you just thought you did because you're a drippy little dum-dum and you get confused like that sometimes, and now that I've explained it to you I can just tell that you're never going to want to say no to me again. Isn't that right?" It's glorious to watch her nod with precum dripping out of his cock all over her, but Jon knows this isn't the end. It's barely even the beginning.

Because like the weeds in a garden, Olivia's independence would eventually come back without his diligent efforts. He needs to keep rooting it out, reinforcing her training with session after session of deep, powerful hypnosis… and lucky for him, that's exactly what turns him on the most. He fights back a surge of pleasure, keeping his orgasm barely contained, and continues the work of brainwashing his obedient, gaslit slut.

"Excuse me, miss?" Mandy doesn't recognize the man who's speaking to her. He's older than her but not that much older, taller than her but not that much taller, but his hazel eyes have a warmth and a depth to them that swallows her up almost before she realizes it's happening and leaves her staring up at him in unblinking fascination. "Miss, I think we need to have a word or two about your cunt." Mandy barely even processes a hint of shock--he's just spoken to her in terms she'd normally find inexcusably lewd and lascivious, assuming a degree of familiarity she'd barely even tolerate from a boyfriend, but all she can do is give him a meek little nod and take his hand. It's strange, but she's only vaguely aware of anything but his mesmerizing gaze.

He leads her into one of the suites, walking backwards so they never break eye contact, and reaches past her to close the door behind her--Mandy loosely remembers that she'd come here for a massage, but she can't really summon up any sense of confusion over this deviation from routine and anyway she doesn't think this man works here. It's all become numb, placid acceptance inside her head, and when he takes a seat in a nearby chair and beckons her closer she doesn't hesitate in following his instructions. "As I was saying, miss," the stranger continued, "I think your cunt is much stronger than you are. Probably much smarter, too. and I think it's very horny right now."

That's a string of words so bizarre as to be downright nonsensical, but they sink into Mandy's brain like a heavy rock tossed into a calm pond and she feels them going all the way down, down, down to the very bottom of her sense of self. Each and every ripple seems to shift some core aspect of her identity, making her pussy throb and her mind soften and her tongue loll out of her mouth in stupefied ahegao bliss. She doesn't so much as whimper in objection as the man does the snaps on her skirt and tosses it in the corner, and her only reaction when he pulls her panties down to her knees is profound gratitude that he's taking care of her wet, needy cunt. "Oh yes," he says, a tiny chuckle in his voice as he begins to inspect her sopping folds. "Definitely horny."

He never breaks eye contact, exploring Mandy's slickness with his fingers while he continues to gaze into her fascinated stare, and he murmurs, "Aren't you glad I came along, pretty girl? Aren't you glad I found you and helped your cunt take charge of your weak and silly brain?" Mandy nods again, drool beginning to soak the front of her shirt as she feels more and more of her mind disappear into his smooth, implacable voice. Her fingers grip the fabric of her top, seemingly without any input from her, and she lifts it up to expose her tits simply because her cunt knows it would please him and Mandy wants so badly to listen to her cunt right now. Her knees are trembling, her breath is coming in quick, panting gasps, and she realizes with the conviction of a prophet that he's going to make her cum soon. He's going to finger her to orgasm, and when he does Mandy knows she's going to belong to him… and that alone is enough to finally tip her over the edge into climax as she discovers first hand just how badly she craves the thought of being owned.

"Ah!" Ryan cautioned, the single syllable halting Marie mid-sentence and stopping her train of thought dead on its tracks. He took her by her chestnut ponytail and growled, "Mirror," and she felt something go warm and liquid between her thighs with a rush of arousal as simply being manhandled like this gave her a visceral, tangible sense of deep and potent submission. She couldn't even remember what she'd said to trigger this particular lesson--perhaps it was a word that was a bit too long and smart-sounding, or a tone in her voice that sounded just a little too independent--but already she could feel whatever it was fading into simpering obedience.

He walked Marie over to the mirror in their bedroom, leaving the span of the bed between her and her reflection, and simply yanked open her dress to reveal her bare tits and smooth, perfectly waxed pussy. Marie wasn't allowed to wear anything with buttons or zippers anymore, only snaps, and just the act of watching her clothes get peeled away as easily and effortlessly as if Ryan was shucking a banana made her labia slicken with wet, desperate arousal. There were times and places where Marie was allowed to be intelligent and independent, but their home definitely wasn't one of them. "Does this look like a smart girl to you?" Ryan snarled, and Marie had to admit it didn't.

But not immediately out loud, which was apparently what her owner was looking for, and he pushed her forward onto the bed and positioned her on her hands and knees with her fingers curled around the edge of the mattress. "I'm afraid I didn't hear you, slut," he snapped, his voice firm and commanding but never quite going so far as to be harsh. "I asked if this looks like a smart girl to you?" He reached in to play with her pussy with one hand while the other undid his fly, and Marie watched her own face go slack and vapid with unrestrained pleasure. She could vaguely, distantly remember a time when degradation didn't instantly make her horny, but that was only because she didn't know she had the option to be treated like this and once she did there was really no turning back.

She managed to whimper, "N-no, Master, that's not a smart--girl!" and she was kind of amazed she even got the final word out, because Ryan pushed his cock between her plump pink pussy lips before she could even finish her sentence and if Marie thought she looked stupid getting fingered it was nothing compared to how she looked when she was being fucked. Her eyes kept crossing and uncrossing, her mouth hung upon in an expression of vacuous lust, and although she couldn't actually see what she looked like when her eyelids began fluttering she'd seen herself on video enough to imagine it. Ryan liked to film her lessons, just to show her exactly what she looked like when the hypnosis turned her into a dumb, rutting beast, and Marie had to admit it was a very effective teaching tool.

Or at least, that's what she admitted when she had all her brains in her head and they were laughing together over how easily she succumbed to his conditioning and how horny it made her. Right now what Marie was admitting was, "She's a dumb girl, Master, she's a dumb girl, Master," over and over again until her mind turned to mush, and it was more than enough to keep her cunt clenching around Ryan's shaft in one desperate, overwhelming orgasm after another.

There’s one thing that boys have to understand. And that is the fact that you should be using her ‘magic wand’ to control her, not letting her vibe her greedy little clit whenever you’re not looking. That is to say, you let her clit control her brain when it should be you controlling her brain.

You’ve got to make sure that it’s properly buried in her snatch. stuffed between her lips and pressed tightly against her little clit.

The number 1 rule is that no matter how much she squirms or humps, you know that the vibrator isn’t going anywhere. All she can do is shake her thighs and rub it slightly across her clit - no escape!

⛓️make sure that she’s secured in the ‘fleshlight position’ with no escape: legs in the air, fleshlight on display, easy access and ready for mounting.

🪄pull back her lips, press a vibrator down onto her little clit (the girl button) and secure it firmly in place. Make sure that no matter how much she humps and struggles, all she can do is rub it across her already swollen clit even more.

This may take a few tries but you’ll enjoy watching her body language change as she humps and struggles but realises the vibrator is going nowhere and her little girl button is going to be constantly stimulated.

😣ensure that the vibe is kept on a low setting. Enough to keep her stimulated and wet, but not enough to let her cum.

Different fleshlights also react differently to this. Some hump even more fanatically, rubbing the vibrator across their button over and over which just ends up overstimulating them and shutting down their brain.

Some accept defeat and let their little button take control, giving in to the helpless wet mess.

Either way, it’s constant stimulation and no escape.

🍆when it’s ‘go time’, remove the vibrator to expose the wet fleshlight. Mount it and use it however you want, I’m sure you have loads of ideas! Rub the little girl button if you need more lube during your fun.

✨When you’re finished, just press the vibrator back down on her little button and secure it back in place to return your fleshlight back to mindless, constant stimulation. Remind her that you’ll be back later when you’re horny again. If she moans and struggles, press the vibrator down harder and tell her to “be a good girl” before leaving.

Optional:

1. it is preferable not to let your fleshlight cum her brains out because that gives her control and lets her get pleasure out of your arrangement.

2. There is no requirement to clean up your cum if you came in or on her. Sometimes it’s better to leave it there as a reminder of who’s in charge.

Tonight, you’re going to be kidnapped and taken away to a warehouse where you’ll be milked with all of the other ftms who tried to play pretend.

Row upon row, locked in place with no escape. The only sound the “suck suck, suck suck” of the pumps echoing throughout the warehouse and the desperate moans of the frms trying to shake their udders free.

Well guess what? Those pumps aren’t going anywhere and you’ve still got your quota of milk to fill up before you’re locked back in storage.

Pushing my hand down on her womb bump to keep her in place. Asking her “where does the boys cock go?” “In the girls vagina!” as she squeals and cries for help through her gag.

The struggling gets more and more frantic as I push my cock up against her wet snatch. Teasing her for being so horny as I rub her clit some more knowing full well that she’s unable to stop her vagina from leaking like crazy.

Telling her that she’s “too feminine and weak to fight back” as my cock pushes inside her. “Go on, force me out” as her pussy clenches around me, trying and failing helplessly to contract and squeeze my cock out.

"So why don't you show me what this man supposedly did to you?" Agent Jasper intones, and as stupefied as she is Ginny can still spot the trap being laid out for her. She knows the suave, handsome federal agent has stopped by to 'collect a statement' every day now for the past six months, and all of his questions have inevitably centered on exactly what her mysterious assailant did once he had her under his hypnotic influence and all of her willpower had fully drained into his captivating hazel eyes. And without fail, the longer Ginny thinks about the mind-numbing trance she slipped into that day the more her thoughts empty out into soft, sleepy bliss, until invariably she winds up doffing her robe and exposing her swollen belly and heavy, milky tits.

"I… um… I think he fucked me?" she mumbles, her mind already too muddied to remember exactly why it would be a bad idea to display her pregnant body to a man who's supposed to be treating her like a witness in a potentially serious investigation. Just seeing the way Agent Jasper's gaze drops down to her puffy brown nipples, already starting to leak tiny droplets of creamy milk, saps her will and her intellect and makes her dreamily eager to clamber onto the bed to crouch on all fours on the mattress with her plump pink pussy lips gently parted in anticipation. "He, like… he made me, um, all dumb with hypno and he… he fucked me." She knows what he's doing, but increasingly she can't remember what her problem with it is supposed to be.

And sure enough, Agent Jasper undoes his zipper and pulls out a cock that's already almost too stiff to maneuver through the gap in his boxer shorts. Ginny can hear the rough urgency in his voice as he murmurs, "And just to clarify, you were totally helpless to resist him? Your brain was completely drained by the thought of a big, hard cock filling your needy cunt?" He's already matching word to action, plowing her pussy with a grunting thrust that perfectly evokes the memory of Ginny's surrender, and for a moment she finds her dazed and dozy brain considering the notion that this is the man who hypnotized her in the first place. But no, as fuzzy as her memories are, Ginny knows she would know that voice. This is a man who's simply realized how easily Ginny slips back into trance when she sinks into that memory.

She can't lever herself out of it, either. "Uhh, uh huh, t-totally fucking drained," she mewls, grinding her hips back against Agent Jasper's stiff prick in an effort to milk the cum out of his heavy balls. She knows she's being trained to crave his cock the same way she wanted the man who hypnotized her, learning to associate his visits with unthinking pleasure and grunting, rutting ecstasy, and the tiny sliver of mind she has remaining wonders what will happen once the baby arrives and their unprotected sex carries with it the risk of getting her knocked up all over again. She hopes he decides to simply claim her for his own, to drop the investigation and marry his star witness so she can be used as his own personal breeder sow whenever he wants. Assuming there's even an investigation going on anymore. For all Ginny knows, he's just stopping by whenever he wants a good fuck.

Even that thought just drains down into her swollen clit before disappearing in the throes of a powerful climax, though, and Ginny hears herself squeal in desperate lust as he finally strains and spasms inside her. "Tell me how you made him hard again," Agent Jasper says, and Ginny can't help wriggling around on the mattress so she can lick his balls while his semen slowly, lazily leaks out of her throbbing cunt.

The janitor was a big man, standing easily a full eighteen inches taller than Leesa, but his intimidating physical power wasn't what made her back away from him as he stepped forward until she felt the tiles of the shower room under her bare feet. It wasn't even the isolation she felt, even though something in the back of her brain kept yammering in panic at being alone with a man who could easily lift her up and sling her over her shoulder like a sack of laundry and she once again cursed the odd hours she kept and the empty locker room she always found herself in. No, what sent Leesa stumbling backwards until her back hit the wall was the janitor's eyes.

They seemed impossibly deep, the dark brown irises blending so smoothly into the pupils that it felt like she was simply falling into an endless black pit, and the way she had to look up to meet his gaze made Leesa's brain reel with exhaustion even though some part of her instinctively knew that even so much as glancing away would cede dominance to him. She had to keep staring, unblinking, and if that wore her down and wearied her mind then it was a small price to pay to keep him from asserting whatever strange, inchoate power she knew he held over her… and that made sense to Leesa right up until he took her left hand and lifted it up over her head to a grip that had been installed in the wall and growled, "Lock." And her fingers wrapped around it unbidden.

Of course she tried to let go. She strained with every last bit of her panicked strength, her attention torn between the desire to look up at her gripping fingers to see what dark miracle had fixed them in place and her muddled conviction that even glancing away from the janitor's challenging stare would sap her will and leave her a limp and helpless plaything in his grasp. But nothing she did to free herself worked, and the situation was only exacerbated when he took her right arm by the wrist and pushed it up to another, identical grip and murmured, "Lock." That was when Leesa realized he'd steered her to this exact spot, using his physical presence to herd her into position before exerting his mysterious hold on her. But by then it was too late.

Leesa was pinned in place now, held helpless until he released her, and he simply pulled down her shorts and panties with a casual ease that felt unnervingly familiar even though Leesa's head was too fuzzy to place the sensory impression into any kind of meaningful context. She just knew this had all happened before, right down to the way the janitor put two big meaty hands into the collar of her ratty old workout shirt and simply yanked until the whole thing tore to pieces in his grip. He'd seen her like this, and she'd forgotten because she was weak and malleable, and now he was going to fuck her senseless and she was going to love it because she always loved being helpless for her Master. Even if she didn't remember he was her Master once she got dressed and left.

He lifted her by the hips and fucked her, and Leesa discovered that the hypnotic suggestion holding her hands in place was so strong she barely even noticed she was hanging from them like a living hammock while he plowed her sopping cunt. She only knew that she had to keep holding his gaze if she didn't want to lose the last remaining sliver of her will to his inexorable power… and when her eyes rolled back in her head in a titanic climax, Leesa finally remembered that this was yet one more battle she inevitably lost.