mc-mowat

[mc-mowat]

The Amplification Collar Does Its Work

"You don't want to give us any more trouble now, do you, sweetie?" The words were accompanied by the lightest caress of Mitsu's bared breasts, really little more than the faintest brush against her skin, but the collar around her neck amplified the sensation until her whole body trembled with ecstasy and she pushed her chest out in a pleading effort to get more. She knew on some level it was degrading to be reduced to wordlessly begging to get her tits groped like this, and she absolutely understood they were going to keep using it against her until her brain was thoroughly reduced to mush… but somehow it felt like resistance could wait until after the next reward for her blank, thoughtless compliance.

Mitsu's handlers chuckled as they watched her tongue loll out of her mouth, her face unthinkingly settling into an expression of simpering ahegao servility in the hopes of getting her tits played with again. "That's a good girl," one of them murmured, giving her another feather-light touch against her soft brown nipple, and Mitsu heard herself whimper in absolutely pathetic arousal--she knew she should be fighting this, all her instincts and her training told her it was how important it was to maintain resistance in the face of enemy efforts to break down her willpower, but nothing in her training manuals had ever prepared her for what it was like to suddenly feel as if her breasts had grown a few million extra nerve endings each, all of them devoted to absolute brain-breaking pleasure.

Pleasure. The word penetrated her loose and foggy mind, bringing with it an understanding of the manner of Mitsu's subjugation that did her absolutely no good under the circumstances. Pleasure was so much harder to fight than pain, because it hijacked millions of years of evolutionary priming that told her brain and her body that whatever she was doing was good and right and absolutely vital to the continuation of her species. Food tasted good because it kept her going, sex felt good because it was how she passed along her genes to the next generation, and giving away vital intelligence to her captors felt good because it meant they would play with her big heavy cow tits. And Mitsu wanted that so badly now.

"Is there anything else you want to tell us before we send you to the harems, pretty girl?" her other handler asked, and Mitsu felt like she was outside her own body watching herself shake her head in an amiable admission that she'd betrayed her cause and her country as thoroughly as she was able. She felt certain they would bring her back if they wanted to ask follow-up questions, but Mitsu wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to understand them--already language felt like it was getting smaller and simpler inside her head, replaced with the desire to please, and she suspected she knew what had happened to all those missing agents she was supposed to be looking for. She could only hope they wouldn't send anyone after her.

The handler cupped her cheek, stroking it with an air of warm praise that felt almost orgasmic all by itself. "That's a good girl," he repeated, his praise practically melting Mitsu's feeble brain. "Would you like us to fuck you now?" Mitsu understood intuitively that it would be too much for her; as amplified as her nervous system was, an actual orgasm would dissolve her mind into so much mush. But at the same time, she couldn't imagine wanting anything more, and she bobbed her head up and down in an eager nod that was the closest she would ever come again to a decision of her own.

(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)

[mc-mowat]

A Little Reassurance on the Question of Enthusiastic Consent

What's that in your mouth, sweetie pie?

"…uhh hoccc…."

That's right, pretty girl, a cock! And who does that cock belong to?

"…uhhuh aaa-yyy's ennns…."

Yes, sweetheart, one of Daddy's friends. Now I know it doesn't look like it, but Daddy's friend here is feeling a little unsure about what I did to your silly little gigglebrain. He thinks that maybe you only want to suck cock because Daddy fucked that idea into your empty head and made you a dumb, happy suckhole. What would you say to him right now, hmm, baby girl?

"ahh akk huuhkknnn ooccccc, aaa-yyy, ah uhh iihh hooo nnnuh, aaa-yyy annahh ee infuh huuckknn ah ihhh--"

Honey, you're going to have to take the dick out of your mouth for a few seconds if you want him to understand what you're saying.

"…I, umm… I was saying I like sucking cock, Daddy, I love it so much. Daddy brainwashed me into sucking and it made me so happy, because, like… I always wanted to be his brainwashed suckhole? Like, when he told me he could make it feel better than sex to have my mouth full of dick I was just, umm, I… I couldn't wait for the hypno to take hold. I, I wanted it so bad, I w-want it even more now, I… was that enough, Daddy? Did I say enough to get to suck him again?"

Almost, sweetie. I want him to hear it from you, what it feels like when Daddy lends your mouth out to another man.

"…ohhh, godddd, it's like… it's just the best, Daddy! He's got such a nice big prick, I can't even fit it all in my mouth, and it's like… It's like I'm sucking on the biggest, bestest lollipop in the world. I love feeling him twitch against my tongue, I love knowing I'm pleasing him, I… pweeeah, aaa-yyy, pweeeah…."

Oh, all right, pretty girl. Since you asked so nicely.

"ohhhhh, hannk oo aaa-yyy, hannk oo hannnk oo hannk ooo…."

(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)

[mc-mowat]

Anna Looks in the Medicine Cabinet

"Oh, dear." There was a wry amusement in Kathleen's voice as she entered the living room to find her houseguest Anna sprawled out on the couch in Kathleen's lingerie, her eyes glassy and a dreamy smile on her face. "It looks like someone went into the medicine cabinet while I was at work and found something they shouldn't. Was that what happened, Anna, sweetie? Did you go snooping around and find a little bottle full of small pink pills labeled 'For Special Occasions'?" Anna stared at her for a long moment, struggling to bring her gaze into focus. Finally, lazily, she nodded her head up and then back down. It looked like it took all the concentration she had.

Kathleen sat down on the couch next to her, resting her pale fingers on Anna's plush, tawny thigh just above the knee. "Well, don't get me wrong, Anna, I think we both agree that your visit is a very special occasion." Her hand began to move upward, drifting along Anna's leg in a series of tiny caresses toward the plump pussy lips only notionally concealed by a pair of translucent black panties. "It's just that, well, I don't think those little pink pills are exactly what you thought they were. They're not for me, you see. They're for good girls like you who need to relax and listen and do as they're told. You want to do what you're told now, don't you, Anna? In fact, you kind of need it."

Another dazed, glacial nod, and Anna's hands slowly drifted down to her chest and began to tease her nipples through the thin fabric of Kathleen's borrowed peignoir. She let out a sleepy giggle, amazed and delighted by the pleasure she was capable of eliciting in herself, and Kathleen smiled indulgently as her fingers reached the summit of Anna's thighs and began to brush lightly at the wet spot on Anna's panties. "Let's start there, sweetie, since we've already gotten into it and I know you want to hear some instructions. You need to do what you're told, Anna. It feels so good to obey my commands that you don't ever want to fight me over anything. The moment I tell you what to do, or say, or think, it instantly sounds like the best idea in the world to you." Anna let out a panting, gasping grunt of agreement. It was the closest she could get to speech now.

"Good girl!" Kathleen rubbed a little harder, emphasizing and rewarding the moment when Anna accepted instruction. "Now, your memories of today are going to be a little bit fuzzy, pet, and that's just fine. You won't need to remember exactly what happened when you took the pink pills, or exactly what we did together. You'll just know that it felt good, and you want more. Whenever I offer you one you'll open wide and swallow without a second thought, and you won't even think about anything that I put into your empty, fuzzy head while you're nice and high and stupid, isn't that right?"

Anna grunted again, barely differentiated from her tiny little moans and whimpers as Kathleen began to unreservedly play with her sopping cunt, and Kathleen smirked. She'd been trying to figure out how to dose her guest for almost three days now, and here Anna had just gone and doped herself up without Kathleen needing to so much as lift a finger. And now, with her old friend's mind levered wide open, Kathleen was free to reshape her into exactly the kind of submissive plaything she desired. "Now let's talk about sex, slut," she intoned, losing herself to the moment as she began to reprogram Anna's mind.

(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)

[mc-mowat]

Amy Wakes to Some Enforced Relaxation

"Unnnng… unguhuh?" It was the closest Amy could get to asking how the fuck she'd gotten into this predicament; the ball gag in her mouth, held in place by a harness that went all the way over and around her head in a series of straps and buckles she couldn't possibly dislodge, kept her from articulating her thoughts more fully. But she felt like her tone conveyed enough of the absolute flabbergasted bewilderment she felt to give Zack a good idea of what she was saying even without the ability to speak. She did reach over to try to remove the gag, just as an experiment, but her hands wouldn't quite stretch far enough.

Because that was the other thing that was perplexing her. Her wrists were bound to the frame of the comfy wicker chair she'd dozed off in, and they were also tied to her upper arm just below the shoulder limiting Amy's range of movement to a series of awkward chicken-winged flaps. Another network of ropes kept her legs in a similar pose, ankles to thighs, leaving the cunt she could have sworn was covered in clothing when she fell asleep smooth and bare and totally exposed. The last few ropes were mostly decorative, binding her lush breasts and puffy pink nipples into a jutting display of cleavage, but they nonetheless felt like something that couldn't have simply happened on its own. And she'd apparently slept through all of it. "Uh huh huhhh?" she grunted, unable even to articulate the depths of her confusion.

But Zack heard her this time, bustling over to her side and giving her a reassuring pat that was a little less reassuring when it landed right between her thighs. "Oh hey, honey, you're awake!" he chirruped, his face bright and cheerful as though Amy was just stirring from a nap and not tied spread-eagled to a chair with her cunt on display. "I'm sorry, you just looked so comfy and cozy sleeping like that, I figured I'd make it a little easier for you to stay in that nice soft chair. You remember sleeping for me, don't you, dear?" There was something about the way he said it, the ominous little emphasis on 'for me' and the way he caressed her pussy as he spoke, that stirred a tinge of… not memory, exactly, but the relief of realizing that memory wasn't necessary. Amy didn't have to think, she didn't have to remember. She could just let go.

It only lasted a moment, though, before Zack pulled his hand away and said, "Anyhow, I need to finish tidying up before our guests arrive. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything--you just relax, okay? This is your special party, and I promised you I would do all the host duties tonight." He turned and walked away, showing absolutely no interest in untying her, and Amy let out a whimpering squeal of dismay around her gag that he utterly ignored. She felt mortified--friends would be arriving any minute, she was lying there naked with her legs spread and her cunt exposed for anyone to tease and grope and play with, and… and most embarrassing of all, Amy could feel herself getting wetter and wetter at the thought of being a bound and gagged party favor for their guests. It brought back another hint of that drowsy, cozy feeling from the back of her brain, and Amy sighed at the realization that most of her struggle was only to remind herself how truly helpless she was.

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[mc-mowat]

The Universe Is Telling Jerry Something

"Excuse me, yes, hello, sir, excuse me sir?" Jerry almost didn't notice the woman waiting patiently for him in his backyard as he made the short walk from the garage to the back door--his mind was on his routine, the mundane details of what he was going to make himself for dinner and whether he could let that rattling sound coming from his muffler go until the weekend, and she was standing in the shade of the old elm tree that had been there when he bought the house. But once she drew attention to herself he couldn't imagine how he'd possibly missed her.

Because she was absolutely the woman of his dreams. Almost unnervingly, in fact; seeing a 5'4" curvy brunette with a submissive smile on her rounded pink cheeks, wearing nothing but the lower half of a bikini, felt a bit like falling into a daydream while still awake… and that was before he factored in her bare, voluptuous, frankly downright ludicrously huge tits. They were bigger than her head, tipping the scales at easily ten pounds each, and surmounted with broad pink nipples that stood out stiff and proud, and she was cupping them in her hands to display them to Jerry's bewildered but not unappreciative gaze. "You wished for a fucktoy, sir?" she asked him, a question that utterly perplexed him even though it seemed like there was only one right answer to give under the circumstances.

He paused, brow furrowed and mouth gaping in slack-jawed astonishment, and with a musical little giggle she took pity on him and filled in the details he was missing. "Two weeks ago, sir," she prompted, giving her tits a little bounce as if to emphasize the cause of the whole inciting incident. "You were on BustySluts Dot Com, scrolling through gifs of big-breasted women while you, um…." Her cheeks got a little bit pinker as she stared suggestively at the bulge in Jerry's slacks, and he couldn't help blushing right along with her even as his prick twitched in response to her interested gaze. It was embarrassing to have your porn habits exposed even under normal circumstances--to have the woman you were masturbating to show up at your house to tell you she knew you were jerking off to her felt unbelievably awkward.

"And anyway," she chirruped, interrupting the brief moment of discomfort, "you thought to yourself, 'Man, I wish I had me a horny little slut like that to do the cooking and the cleaning and suck my cock whenever I asked,' and I happened to be the woman you were looking at when the idea went through your head. And for whatever reason, that happened to be the moment when the forces of the cosmos aligned perfectly and the universe was actually listening to you. It, um, it took a couple of weeks for me to scrape up enough money to fly out here, but I'm yours now. Forever." She gave her tits another suggestive bounce, but Jerry barely noticed. He was still processing

He went through all the stages of acceptance remarkably quickly--it wasn't a joke or a prank or a hoax, there was simply no way she could have known about the specific and highly embarrassing fantasy that had drifted through his mind for only a mere moment and that he'd never so much as mentioned to anyone. He couldn't take it back; the universe wasn't listening to him anymore, and it felt like the biggest cosmic joke and tragedy at the same time that it only ever granted wishes at its own caprice and without the awareness of the person doing the desiring. But even his dawning awareness that he could have had world peace and enlightenment if only he hadn't been masturbating at the exact moment he got his heart's desire was ultimately dismissed with a rueful sigh, and Jerry took his new sex slave by the elbow and led her inside to see how far her new mentality took her.

(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)

[mc-mowat]

Lea Learns That Life Begins at Forty

"Are… are you sure this is what I want?" Lea felt kind of funny asking that question; it seemed like the sort of thing she should be able to tell for herself, rather than looking up into the eyes of her old college roommate and asking in a meek, hesitant tone that suggested total emotional dependence. But her brain felt sluggish and confused, barely able to hold even a single thought for more than a few seconds before the throb in her clit drove it away, and Mary Beth was smiling down at her with such calm certainty that it only felt natural to seek reassurance from her. And it wasn't like her husband Carl had much to contribute to the conversation.

At least not verbally. Lea could feel the head of his cock pressing against her slick pink pussy lips, already nestled into the channel between her labia and ready to push deep inside her as soon as he received the instruction, and in many ways that was more important than anything he could say right now. It was left to Mary Beth to articulate the situation in words, petting Lea's long dark hair and smoothing away the furrows in her brow as she murmured, "Of course it's what you want, dear. You've been so worn out now for so long, and you're going to enjoy being our fuckslave so much. All it takes is that one big thrust to pop your silly little thoughts forever, and you can enjoy a life of sucking and fucking as our pampered, horny pet. Why wouldn't you want that?"

It sounded like a rhetorical question, but Lea really did try to think about it in those last few moments before Carl's prick slid deep into her sopping cunt and cemented the intensive hypnotic programming she'd been receiving for the past month. She knew her life had kind of crashed and burned lately--between the divorce, the layoff and the unexpected failure of her lawyer to convince a judge to give her even a portion of the proceeds from the sale of their house, she'd washed up on Mary Beth's couch with very little to convince her that she had anything of her old identity to hang onto. She knew she should want her freedom, she knew she should resist the mesmerizing blue eyes that enticed her ever deeper into submission… but the reasons why simply trailed off into a messy, murky stew of vague emotions and abstract convictions that couldn't hold up against the urgent throb in her clit.

So she sighed, and let her forehead relax into an untroubled gaze of beatific bliss, and nodded vacantly as Mary Beth purred, "It's just time to stop thinking, poppet. It's time to give in and let go and be our good girl forever." She reached down and began teasing Lea's small, sensitive breasts, squeezing and groping them and pinching the nipples until the tingle in Lea's chest almost matched the one in her clit. "Just say 'yes, please', and you can cum your brains out for me exactly like you've been dreaming about, and this time you never ever ever have to put them back in again. I know you're ready for that. I know you're so, so ready." It was honestly kind of embarrassing how little Lea resisted, and soon Carl was absolutely railing her soaking pussy as she sank deeper into Mary Beth's eyes and let herself find peace in obedience.

(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)

[mc-mowat]

Shelley Loses a Head-to-Head Struggle

"W-wha--?" It wasn't much of a response, but then again Shelley had no real frame of reference to use to craft a reaction to this complete and total stranger's bizarre, bewildering actions. He'd just walked right up to her in the middle of the party, grabbing the sides of her head in his hands before pressing his forehead to hers like he was giving her the slowest, least painful headbutt imaginable, and she was so startled not only by the act itself but by the complete and total indifference of everyone else present that she only really managed the slightest yelp of startled confusion before her throat locked up into silence.

He chuckled, and Shelley heard him say, 'They won't help you,' but the oddest thing was the way she heard it--the voice didn't come through her ears, it sounded directly inside her own mind, resonating on the same frequency as the mental narrative of her thoughts but with an insistent strength that easily overpowered her own native ideas and concepts. She tried to jerk away, only to realize her muscles no longer obeyed her; she was being held paralyzed, trapped in a grip that captured not her body but her will, and she found herself moving in perfect lockstep with the stranger as he walked her backward in the direction of the unexpectedly vacant couch.

'You're the last one left, Shelley,' he intoned into her consciousness, letting go of her head and reaching down to simply tear her thin cotton t-shirt apart at the seams before pulling off her bra to leave her topless on the couch. Shelley tried to use her apparent freedom to escape, but she couldn't so much as twitch--something about the connection between them, skull to skull and forehead to forehead, was allowing him direct control of her nervous system and either she didn't know how to stop it or his will was simply far too strong to be resisted. Within moments he had her skirt up around her waist and her panties down around her ankles.

'I've been taking them like this all night,' he told her, his mental voice sly and smirking. 'I've been getting them alone, one by one, imposing my will on them and turning them into my obedient little puppets, but I don't need to keep it a secret with you. You're the last one left, and I can just take you like this, right out in front of everyone, and the only thing they can do is watch and smile and agree with each other about how good it is to see you join them in mental slavery. Doesn't that just make you so wet, Shelly dear?' He reached down between her thighs to brush his fingers against her pussy, and even though she wanted to argue that it was his doing and not her desire she certainly couldn't argue against the physical evidence. Her cunt was practically drooling.

Shelley didn't know whether he forced her hips into motion, or whether he simply released them from his mental domination and it was the pent-up lust he'd instilled into her obedient mind that made her grind her cunt against his rubbing fingers. All she knew was that she couldn't stop herself from building rapidly to a humiliating orgasm under his touch, a keening whimper escaping her throat as the climax hit, and whatever feeble willpower she had evaporated when she came. Shelley felt her mind shift into the new and permanent pattern of submission, and when he finally moved his head away and her body became hers once again all she could do was babble in gratitude for the opportunity to become his latest slave.

(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)

[mc-mowat]

His Point of View

I wasn't planning on using my 6 hour return flight home to recruit anyone, but once I saw the stunning beauty fate decided to sit next to me, I couldn't resist.

She was polite, but clearly entitled and it was evident from our brief exchange that she thought of herself as out of my league. I didn't mind though because it meant she didn't think twice about me and made a point to ignore me by putting on wireless noise canceling headphones once we were airborne. Her attitude allowed me to open up my computer and subtly prepare the file I hoped I would be able to have her listen to. Since she so perfectly ignored me, I couldn't use the typical 'hey want to listen to this track' excuse, but it turned out I didn't need to. About an hour into the flight, she excused herself to go to the lavatory.

Leaving her headset in her seat...

I took the opportunity to sync her headset to my computer and waited for her to return. Once she sat back in her seat, I savored her confused expression when instead of her own music, she heard bi-neural tones drift into her ears. The sound gradually increased, making her hand twitch up as if she wanted to remove the headset. However, her hand barely lifted a few inches before it settled back down on the armrest as the under-layer of specialized frequencies finally took hold of her brainwaves.

I watched the rest of her body relax in her seat, making it look as if she was simply settling down comfortably for the long flight. But in reality, the sounds she was hearing were making it impossible for her brain to form motor control signals, which effectively paralyzed her.

From the previous tests I conducted on myself, I knew that this first part was rather unpleasant because the sounds didn't make it impossible to think yet. Your thoughts become a slightly painful jumble of ideas as you try to move without success. I didn't panic because I already knew it was supposed to do that, but from her point of view, I could only imagine how bewildering it must feel.

After a while, I lifted her arm from the arm rest and watched it flop back to the seat without any sort of resistance. Having successfully passed the first hurdle, I cued the next phase and watched carefully for the tell tale signs of its effectiveness. As with the motor functions, it took a few seconds for her active thoughts to fall victim to the files' grip, but as expected, I watched her eyes glaze over and smiled. These frequencies felt a lot better than the previous ones so when someone experiences them one after the other, it becomes twice as effective. The sound waves target the part of the mind generally associated with a trance-like state and disrupts the higher cognitive processes, making it impossible to form your own ideas by constantly soothing any spikes of thought.

The experience was intensely relaxing...

I allowed the file to do its thing for almost half an hour to thoroughly massage her mind before I casually reclined her seat while I waited for an opportunity to close her eyes. Once I did and I thus confirmed that she couldn't react to outside stimulus, I cued up phase 3 as I casually confirmed to the passing flight attendant that my seatmate was taking a nap.

After all, it wouldn't do to have them wake her up before I was done...

Anyway, by that point her mind was under the full effects of the frequencies, which harmonized her mind to whatever inputs it experienced. As such, when my voice filled her ears with carefully chosen words, her mind would instinctively assimilate them and radically change its pathways to conform to the new ideas. The process took time of course, but thanks to our long flight home, that’s something we had in spades…

Her Point of View

The guy that sat next to me did a moderately good job of hiding his wandering eyes when I sat next to him so I did my best not to make a fuss about it. After all, it was a long flight and I had no desire to sit next to someone I had unloaded on for looking my way. Especially since he was such an average looking guy…

I made a point to put on my headphones as soon as I could and thankfully, he got the unspoken message that I wanted to be left alone. The flight went smoothly enough until I went to the lady’s room. After I sat back down, I put on my headphones but instead of my beats, I was puzzled to hear a set of odd tones. I looked at my phone, wondering what song I had mistakenly downloaded, and quickly realized that the song I was listening to before I got up was still paused. If it was paused, then what was I listening to?

The tones grew louder and louder, making it almost painful to listen to and very hard to think so I decided to remove them. However… My body suddenly became numb and felt so heavy that it felt impossible to lift my hand. The tones were so strong in my ears… It was like they were pushing against my brain and made it incredibly hard to do anything. The sensation was so weird!

But not as weird watching my seat mate casually lift my wrist a few inches, only to let it fall back on the armrest. My first stray thought was that he noticed something was wrong and was checking if I was ok! That made me happy! But then I noticed his smile and my joy turned to dread as I wondered how he could know that I was in trouble.

As he tested my other arm in the same way, the only conclusion my strained mind could come up with was that he knew exactly what was happening to me. And if he knew… He was probably the one responsible for what was happening! He confirmed as much when he turned and typed in a few lines on his laptop before looking back at me. My panic was, as intense as it was, very short lived as the sounds blasting in my ears shifted and made me feel like I wanted to nod off and sleep. I couldn’t allow myself to do that so I tried to fight off the drowsiness. But the more I did, the less I remembered why it was important to fight what my body obviously wanted. In fact, it was hard to remember anything specific as the sounds seemed to wash away any idea or thought I could have. Before long, there was no reason to fight… No reason to resist… There was only the soothing soundscape in my ears that lulled me into blissful sleep.

Only… I wasn’t asleep… Not really…

I was in limbo… Floating peacefully in the sounds that became my entire world. It felt so good… So relaxing… I couldn’t help but give myself to its current and follow along as a voice began to whisper words that sank right past my awareness and drifted down into my brain. They became my only thoughts… My only foundations are to form ideas of my own as they built themselves from the ground up.

The experience eventually ended and part of me wished to continue basking thoughtlessly in the sounds, but I knew that was not for me to decide. No… Only my… Master… Could decide something like that.

My Master… The thought sent a jolt of pleasure between my legs as my new self fully awakened to the reality around me. My eyes fluttered open and I was disoriented for a moment as I recalled being on a plane. I felt lost until I turned my head and saw the handsome man sitting next to me. I didn’t know this man at all and that worried me because I felt like my Master should have been sitting next to me.

But then, he spoke to me and something clicked inside my brain. There was no doubt in my mind that he was my Master! His voice was unmistakable and sent another jolt of pleasure down my spine. He asked me a few questions about who he was and what I was willing to do for him, which all felt really stupid to me because I was his slave and he could DEFINITELY do anything he wished with me. Thankfully, he seemed quite satisfied with my answers and after he checked how much was left for our flight, he told me to wait for about 5 minutes before joining him in the second lavatory so he could test my answers.

Let me tell you… Those were the longest 5 minutes of my LIFE because I couldn’t wait to join the mile high club with my Master!

[mc-mowat]

[mc-mowat]

Trisha Gets Collected

"…driving?" The word came out in a sleepy mumble, barely one step up from a grunt, as Trisha tried to find the vocabulary to express her misgivings and found that her brain was simply too mushy and vacant and numb to come up with anything more than the most basic of thoughts. She knew how long the ride from downtown's bars to her suburban apartment took, and even though she'd lost track of time staring at the screen set into the back of the driver's seat and letting it carry her on into masturbatory ecstasy, she knew that if the sun had come up then they'd gone very far off course. But so much of her mind had dribbled out of her cunt by now that she could only fumble at putting that notion into speech.

And the driver's condescending chuckle and smooth, patronizing baritone struck right at the heart of her new intellectual insecurity. "That's right, honey, we're driving," he cooed, sounding for all the world as if he was explaining the concept to a very small and easily confused child. "That's very good. Why don't you just keep watching your shows and try not to worry your pretty little head about it, okay?" There weren't any shows on the screen in front of her--it had been broken the entire ride, showing nothing more than flowing patches of random color no matter what Trisha did with it--but her eyes nonetheless fixated on the swirling hues, and her fingers continued to rub her messy, exposed cunt. Something about being talked down to like that went straight to her clit, even as it made her feel foolish and silly and far too embarrassed to try to assert herself again.

It did occur to Trisha, slowly and sluggishly and not without a few false starts, that there was something odd about masturbating in the back of her rideshare cab--and odder still about the enthusiastic, uninhibited way she'd taken to it. Her clothing was scattered all over the back seat, the only thing she hadn't taken off was her ankle-length socks and tennis shoes, and her legs were spread pretty much as far as they could go so she could gain full access to the slick, drooling channel between her parted labia. But even when it finally sank in that she couldn't stop playing with her pussy, and even when she finally realized she was being driven to a different destination hundreds of miles away from her house, she couldn't really summon up a sense of urgency about it. The screen numbed it into complacency instead.

They stopped for gas three times, each of them at strange, isolated waystations used only by cars of the exact same make and model as the one Trisha was riding in, and even though the driver took her out of the vehicle to use the restrooms Trisha never seemed to be able to put enough of her brains back into her head during those breaks to resist the urge to trot obediently back to the car and watch the screen some more. She felt as though she'd been drugged with some stupefying chemical mixture, some impossible medicine that made her horny and dopey and eager to comply, and the other naked women she saw at those stops all had the same look on their faces that she did. That implied something dangerous about their trip… but fortunately for Trisha, she was able to masturbate her worries away every time they cropped up and just enjoy her long, one-way ride.

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[mc-mowat]

Jada Relaxes Her Inhibitions for ({*})

Jada had to admit, the bikini looked good on her. She'd usually never wear an outfit like that, she was too self-conscious about her chest--her usual poolside ensemble was a one-piece swimsuit with a baggy t-shirt over it, and that was only if she actually intended to get into the water. More often than not she just stayed dressed; it was just easier than dealing with a non-stop parade of horny guys ogling her cleavage like she was a piece of meat. But the only one seeing her right now was the mirror and the cellphone camera, and it was hard to deny that with the silver and gold fabric gathering her oiled-up tits into a valley of soft mahogany flesh she genuinely looked sexy as all fuck.

She said as much, texting, 'ii hop i t peleses u' with trembling fingers and a surprisingly lackadaisical disregard for typos, and if she had a momentary flicker of concern over who she was sending the photos to it vanished as soon as her eyes drifted up to the top of the screen and she saw a '({*})' in the identification field. That was… they were… she, she met them at…. Jada's mind repeatedly struggled and collapsed into fractionated arousal as she tried and failed, again and again, to remember who that name represented and how she knew them, and every failure made her weaker and wetter until she could feel her musk smearing freely against the waterproof fabric of her new bikini. Eventually the fight exhausted her, the same way it always did, and she sank gratefully back down into obedience.

And the person at the other end of the connection rewarded her for that obedience. 'Good girl', they replied, sending a warm, wet pulse of pleasure straight into Jada's swollen clit. 'You love to obey. To be on display.' It was the exact opposite of how she felt, honestly; puberty was an early visitor to the Freeland household, as well as a surprisingly generous one, and Jada hated the way that almost overnight she was turned into an object of lust for fifty percent of the population well before she was ready for it. But twenty years of personal history simply evaporated like mist in front of a blowtorch under the power of a single sentence of praise, and Jada's fingers moved to tweak and pinch her nipples until they stood out stiff and proud underneath her bikini before snapping another picture and sending it to the person she obeyed without question.

It popped up in the chat window, and there was another brief and futile flurry of resistance as Jada saw her own expressionless face and the blank, empty stare of a deeply hypnotized subject. But every time she resisted she failed, and struggling harder only trained her to fail faster, and soon she was typing out, 'i lov t oobey' and 'too be onn dispay' with a warm, cozy bliss caressing her mind so deeply and thoroughly into compliance that she couldn't possibly fight it. Even the typos made her pussy pound with arousal; they reminded Jada just how deep she was, how dumb and drowsy it made her to be triggered into helpless surrender like this, and she really hoped she was pleasing her owner enough to warrant personal attention because god did she need to fucking cum right now.

And Jada got her wish. The message from the other end said, 'Play with your pussy, get it wet and ready for me, I'll be there in twenty minutes,' and Jada's mesmerized mind surged with absolute delight at the notion of being used as a fucktoy by her owner. She replied to indicate her understanding, then set the phone to video mode and rested it on its side while her hand went down between her thighs to edge… and it was a true sign of just how much Jada had surrendered to her programming that her other hand moved to grope and squeeze her lush, heavy, inescapably sexy tits.

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[mc-mowat]

Looping Coral's Surrender

"I… I don't remember doing that." There was a tone of distracted amazement in Coral's voice as she stared down at her bare breasts, scooped out of her strapless evening gown and held cupped in her hands with a blatantly presentational affect to her body language. She tensed up for a moment, as if attempting to make her arms move, but the only thing she managed to achieve was to jiggle her tits lewdly for Paul's amused and highly interested gaze. Very gradually, a deep crimson blush began to spread across her pale cheeks… but she didn't stop. And Paul knew she couldn't.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and Paul could tell the effort to control her wayward limbs was beginning to take up more and more of her attention because her murmur of, "I, I don't… when did I….?" had a muddled, vacant quality to it entirely at odds with the sharp-witted woman he'd initially struck up a conversation with. Her lips gradually slackened as she tried harder and harder to concentrate on the elusive memory of her apparent decision to put herself on display for him, and within moments her stare was becoming fixed and glassy--Paul knew what was happening to her, knew that her efforts to think back to her trance was returning her to that same state, but he saw no reason to steer her into a different course of action. Not when she looked so cute when she was lost and drowsy and beautifully fixated on her own tits like that.

Even as he watched, a thin stream of saliva began to bead up and trickle down Coral's vacantly parted lips onto the shelf of her cleavage, and the furrow of her brow gradually smoothed out as she started to stare down at her own tits not in an effort to untangle the skein of the mystery that befuddled her, but simply because they were jiggling and bouncing and it was easy for her to get lost in any repetitive motion right now. "…i … um…." she mumbled, her toneless voice slurred and sleepy, but that was as close as she got to any kind of coherent statement and it soon trailed off into mesmerized silence. Her will was giving out, and her thoughts along with it, and soon her mind belonged to him and him alone.

He gave it a good twenty count before speaking to Coral in a low, soothing voice, telling her, "That's a good girl. That's my good girl. Every time it gets easier and easier, every time it feels better and better to drop for me, doesn't it?" Coral nodded vacantly, or at least she tried to--her heavy head kept drooping forward further and further with every endeavored motion, until her chin sank down onto her collarbone and her eyes rolled back until only the whites were showing. Paul could tell she was awake now only in the loosest and most notional sense of the word, and a devilish grin crossed his face at the notion of all the pleasures to come by the end of the night and over so many nights to come.

"Better and better," he intoned. "Weaker and wetter. Easier and easier to sink for me. And wake." He watched Coral's eyelids flutter and dance as animation returned to her face, her muddled thoughts drifting back into her empty head more sluggishly than the last time. He gave her the chance to look up at him again, her dazed brain trying hard to take in the fuzzy details of the last hour or so, and just when it looked like she was beginning to gather enough of her wits to speak he said to her, "You know your tits are out, right?" Coral looked down at her chest again, taking in the exhibitionistic display as if for the very first time. And the loop began again.

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[mc-mowat]

"this style of brainwashing is one of my favorites. I call it the oblivious bimbo. Nothing I have her do registers to her as abnormal. Watch."

I walk over to the desk that my assistant is sitting at. "Trixie, you're not showing enough cleavage today. Go ahead and open up your top."

Trixie responds with a smile "of course sir. I'm so sorry I forgot." She quickly opens her blouse to reveal her tits, pushing them up to be on better display.

"and of course, if she starts talking too much, I simply put a finger to her lips."

I press my index finger to Trixie's plump lips. She immediately opens her mouth and wraps them around my finger. Within moments she is bobbing slowly up and down on the digit, moaning and slurping.

"and finally, with only a small amount of pressure on the top of the head, or the shoulder." I pull my finger out of Trixie's mouth and push down on the top of her head. Trixie smiles with joyful anticipation before dripping to her knees, opening her mouth wide, and sticking out her tongue.

"she'll stay just like this until I give her a command, take physical control of her, or walk away. Look, she's already drooling on her cleavage." I reach down and spread the saliva leaking from her open mouth in between her barely concealed breasts.

"the whole brainwashing package takes less than a week, and I've never heard any complaints from Trixie regarding the results. If you're ready, we can start on you today. Does that sound good?"

[mc-mowat]

An Audition for Obedience

"Please. Sit down." Erica hesitantly took a seat, uncertain whether to cross her legs or cover her breasts or in any way conceal her naked body from the man sitting across from her--it seemed counterproductive when what she wanted more than anything was to convince him that she had a seed of slutty, submissive desire somewhere deep down inside her that he could blossom into perfect obedience, but she was still new to her conditioning and the foolish lie that was resistance hadn't yet fully faded from her mind. And modesty, Erica knew, was just another form of resistance to Master's implacable will.

"I'd like to see you masturbate for me now," he said, and that settled any question about how much of her body to show off; Erica spread her legs until they pressed up against the arms of the chair, exposing a pale pink cunt that already displayed the faintest traces of musk despite her nervousness. Erica had honestly never been that into playing with herself, only bothering when her sexual tension got distracting and she needed to find some way to relieve it, but she was already discovering a qualitative difference between rubbing her pussy for her own pleasure and rubbing it because Master told her to. It felt like only moments before she found herself panting with arousal.

"Good, that's very good. Play with your tits while you masturbate." The shock of pleasure she felt on actually hearing the words 'good girl' for the very first time in her Master's voice almost distracted Erica to the point of disobedience, but her deep self knew there was too much at stake to lose herself in ecstasy and her free hand soon moved to grope and squeeze her heavy breasts. This was an audition, after all, a demonstration of her ability to submit to Master's will and impress him with the depths of her perversion, and it wouldn't do to come off as some kind of naive and foolish girl who couldn't think beyond the throb in her clit and the animal desire for climax. She truly wanted to please him, she couldn't imagine anything more wonderful even though she understood it was her newborn programming making her feel that way, and she was so desperately excited by the prospect of cumming under his control.

"Stop." Erica's fingers froze, even though only moments ago she'd been craving orgasm, and she truly began to believe she had the talent to become one of Master's slaves; her hand went still instinctively, immediately, without hesitation or question, and the way he leaned forward in his chair at the sight of her quivering body made her think he saw that spark of true surrender inside her too. Erica didn't let herself hope, that was a desire and she was finally and fully understanding that desires of her own were an act of disobedience, but she did let herself daydream about the pleasures to come if she were to be allowed into the harem. And that only made her pussy drool even harder in desperate, denied arousal.

"Good girl. Faster this time, make yourself cum for me." It's already everything she's dreamed of, Erica knows that even if he turns her away and releases her from her programming she's going to be thinking of this moment every time she masturbates for the rest of her life, but that's not enough for her and she does her level best to make her first climax under Master's control one he'll enjoy. She moans and trembles, she scoops up her breast and brings it to her mouth to suckle at her own nipple, and the faint smile of interest on his face is enough to finally make Erica squeal in the ecstasy of release. She's certain she belongs to him now. And she's never, ever been happier.

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[mc-mowat]

Bethany Finds Something She Likes About Porn After All

"Ew! Tommy, why would you show me this? You know I don't like… porn…." Bethany's voice trailed off into silence as her attention began to arrow in on the screen in front of her; it was true what she'd been saying just a moment ago, she generally thought of pornography as degrading and exploitative, but she had to admit there was something strangely enticing about the video her roommate Jessica's boyfriend had called her in to watch. It was kind of a… a montage, she supposed, of women with dazed expressions and glassy, empty eyes, all of them being used for sex as if they no longer had the will to say no to it. Like they were, were, were, um--

"That's right, Bessie," Tommy cooed, as Bethany's eyes widened and her arms went limp at her sides. "Just keep watching. It's not so bad after all, is it?" Bethany's head moved up and down absently in a vacant nod, but what she was really thinking was that she was beginning to notice some kind of pattern overlaid on the screen. She took a hesitant step in the direction of the laptop resting on Jessica's bed, wanting a closer look, but walking and watching at the same time was making her unaccountably dizzy and she decided to sit down before she fell down. Thankfully, that brought the computer to eye level and she was able to see what she was looking for.

There was a… a kind of spiral, overlaid onto the images of the naked women on the screen. It was faint, so faint Bethany had to crawl right up to the edge of the bed and stare intently to see it, but it was omnipresent, too. Every single one of the slack-jawed, drooling sluts taking cock in every hole with a glassy, unseeing look in their eyes--they all existed within the confines of the spiral. Almost as though they were trapped inside it. Almost as though they couldn't resist its power. The word 'hypnosis' finally burst into Bethany's mushy brain, but she still hadn't made the connection to her own reverent fascination with the degrading porn she was watching.

"You'll like it more if you get those big udders out, Bessie," Tommy murmured, and even though Bethany registered his repeated use of her least favorite nickname she felt too relaxed and placid to correct him. She was beginning to notice words hidden in the spiral, even harder to see but all the more captivating once she finally tuned in on them, and slowly but surely the endless procession of brainless, drooling fucktoys faded into the background as her entire consciousness narrowed down to the effort of reading and absorbing the faint subliminal text. She only registered the act of removing her clothing as a brief, vaguely annoying interruption of her field of vision.

She distantly heard Tommy saying, "Flop them up on the mattress, Bessie," but even her awareness of the world around her was beginning to fade as she focused more and more of her attention on the text she had to stare so intently at the screen to read. She didn't even notice herself scooping her gigantic tits--udders, really, the source of the hated nickname and the first thing most guys noticed about her--up and onto the bed. The mattress beneath her deformed ever so slightly under their weight, but she didn't care about the spectacle she presented. She only cared about the spiral. "Moo for me, Bessie girl," Tommy chuckled, and Bethany didn't even need to think about it before she helplessly obeyed.

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[mc-mowat]

Ellery Shows Off May's Trigger

"No, seriously, watch this, guys. Hey, May? Time to get stupid for me." There were no guys over at Ellery's place, but she was too Midwestern to break the habit of referring to any collective grouping that way; even after fourteen years living in Atlanta, she still had a tiny bit of her clipped Chicago accent. Unless she was hypnotizing people, of course, when she found a smooth and seductive purr to her voice that always took her subjects by so much surprise that it did half the work of her inductions all on its own--they were so shocked to hear her suddenly find that lulling, enticing tone that they couldn't quite bring themselves to resist it. Especially May, whose eyes immediately crossed as her tongue lolled out of her mouth in an expression of comical idiocy.

Which only made Ellery grin widely with delight. "See?" she told the gathered group of friends, reveling in their amazed stares as they watched saliva dripping unselfconsciously from the tip of May's outstretched tongue. "I told you, I can make her into a total brainless slut whenever I want to. She doesn't usually remember, because right now she's too dumb to have thoughts of her own, but she'd totally fuck anything right now if I told her to. I could get her humping the arm of the sofa with just a snap of my fingers." May didn't respond to the degrading compliment in words, but she began to lick the air in a vapid, ostentatiously lascivious display of arousal that was an immediate convincer.

The responses from the rest of the group were… instructional. Jess blushed fiercely, her gaze dipping down as though her shoes were suddenly the most interesting thing in the whole wide world--Ellery instantly knew she'd be down for a threesome the second they were alone together. Shauna's lips parted unconsciously as she stared in riveted fascination, and Ellery could tell she was looking at her next hypnotic subject; honestly, 'next' might have been a bit generous. From the way she was watching it looked like about ten percent of her brain was already falling into sympathetic trance right along with May. And Zoe, well. She was always a hard one to read, but the little twitch of her fingers spoke volumes. Ellery felt certain she'd guessed right with this particular gang of perverts.

She snapped her fingers, and May's expression returned to normal. "Um… why are you all staring at me?" she asked, wiping the drool from her lips seemingly without any awareness of how it got there and looking back at the group with a confused, slightly annoyed expression on her face. "Do I have something in my teeth or something? Because if I do, you, like, have to tell me. It's rude to just--" Ellery interrupted her, not because she didn't think May had anything interesting to say but because she wanted to prove a point. By the end of the evening she wanted everyone's inhibitions dissolved or at the very least broken up into tiny little chips that would melt on their own, and May was the key to making that happen.

"Time to get stupid for me, sweetie," she cooed, and May's expression once again contorted into that same stupefied, performative idiocy. This time Jess's blush got even brighter, but she couldn't quite make herself look away, and the tip of Shauna's tongue peeked out from between her parted lips like a shy little baby bunny on the first day of spring. And Zoe, well. She leaned back in her seat, allowing her hand to rest comfortably between her thighs, and met Ellery with a challenging stare… and that was when they both understood just how kinky the evening was going to get.

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[mc-mowat]

Alyssa Gets Tricked All Over Again

Alyssa caught a glimpse of the strange wooden framework out of the corner of her eye, and immediately she felt the strangest sense of familiarity that compelled her to investigate. She went back into the secluded little corner of the arcade, her brow furrowing in consternation as she tried to figure out what it was and how it worked--it looked like a kind of sliding hatch of some sort, a lower half with a semi-circle cut out at waist height and another, smaller semi-circle on each side of it, while up at the top there was a matching cut-out that hung suspended in place waiting for some kind of trigger. But Alyssa couldn't see what the mechanism was. She leaned over, hoping to discover a switch or a button or a pressure plate of some kind….

And winced in frustration at her own foolishness as the weight of her body sent the upper portion sliding down, trapping her waist and arms just like it always did. Alyssa wriggled, desperately hoping that this time the lock hadn't snapped shut on her like it did so many times before, but no, it was no good--they'd pulled the exact same trick on her as all the other times she'd visited this particular arcade, leaving just enough of a nub of memory behind to gull her into finding the pillory intriguingly suspicious, without allowing her to realize that every time she inspected it she always wound up its prisoner. The carefully-placed video game cabinet in front of her flared to life, swirling with a mesmerizing spiral that left Alyssa's brain numb and empty within seconds.

Of course she attracted attention. The pillory always did when it was occupied, that was something Alyssa knew instinctively even if she only remembered it once she was helplessly captured in its wooden embrace. Someone came up behind her and pulled off her skirt and panties, tossing them heedlessly aside before inserting two, then three, then finally all four fingers deep inside Alyssa's inexplicably wet pussy. They felt like slender fingers, perhaps a woman's, but even if Alyssa could look away from the hypnotic screen she wouldn't be able to tell--the wooden frame blocked the view behind her pretty much completely, leaving her at the mercy of anyone who wanted to use her cunt for any reason.

Someone else came around in front of the pillory, momentarily blocking the screen as he presented his cock for Alyssa to suck, and even though her muddled mind emerged at least slightly from the fog of trance the mere sensation of the wooden frame around her wrists and waist was so firmly associated with hypnosis that she couldn't quite stir her brain into real cognition. Instead, her mouth locked open as if she was wearing an invisible ring gag, allowing the total stranger to fuck her face while behind her another stranger fisted her pussy with wet, sloppy gushing sounds that attracted quite a crowd. Alyssa whimpered, but the embarrassment of being put on display only made her cunt drool even harder with lust.

She didn't know how long she spent in the pillory that day--whenever her view wasn't blocked with a thrusting crotch she found herself melting into hypnotized ecstasy again--but Alyssa's cunt was sore and leaky by the time the arcade closed for the night and the sated staff finally released her. They told her what a good girl she was, and reminded her to come back again… and even though Alyssa's memory of the events she'd just endured was rapidly fading, she knew her deep self would always trick her into complying again.

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