#mind control story

[subliminalbo]

Okay, elephant in the room? I was an Alpha.

Right now you're thinking "this stupid, little, blonde bimbo is soooo addicted to serving that she went out and got herself brainwashed again." But this is just research, honest! Corbin says that research is the most important part of journalism. You can't write about mindless whores without becoming one yourself!

I was basically already Corbin Arroyo's biggest fan when she joined us in the Alphas house. It was pretty crowded by that point, but I managed to get a turn on her during the conditioning. I can still taste her on my lips, still hear her whimper when my tongue glided over her clit. And I remember how powerful I felt driving my idol to such a point of pure ecstasy that she totally lost her mind—with the help of the visor over her eyes, of course. God, I still get so hot just thinking about it.

But, uh, maaaybe don't mention all that to her? I don't want her to think I'm like some crazy fan or something.

The point is that Corbin and I have been through a lot together. The kind of stuff that bonds people together for life. Like, finding a dead body in the woods. You can't talk about that to everybody.

So I'm working for her now. Or I will be, once I prove myself with a big scoop.

Corbin's been playing it cool. She says stuff like, "I'm not looking for a partner right now" and "please stop texting me." (She's so funny!) I thought tracking her number down would be enough to convince her, but she's really testing me. I needed something big.

Everyone knows River City is filthy with corruption and vice. I figured that if I hung around the motel district long enough I'd stumble upon some kind of scandal to write about, so I checked into the Gilead Hotel. It seemed as good a place as any to do my research. Don't let the fancy name fool you, it's a total dump. I got a good deal on the room though, must have been the cute girl rate.

"Say," I said to the kid with the splotchy beard at the front desk. "Where can a girl find some work around here?"

"Work?" he repeated in a low, quavering sort of voice. "Like...work work?"

"What other kind of work is there?" I giggled.

The poor kid seemed conflicted when he paid me his $250. It was probably a whole paycheck for him, but I wasn't going to discount myself for his sake. I blew him in the break room. It was a little space with wood paneling and crusty green carpet that scraped against my knees. The folding chair creaked beneath him as I rolled my tongue over the head of his cock.

I didn't have much of a taste for this kind of thing before I was an Alpha, but blowjobs were a skill that Madison considered as essential as eating pussy. I put my Alpha training to good use, teasing him with my tongue until he whimpered like Corbin, then I slurped down his shaft in slow, deep gulps, increasing my speed with each repetition. I took him the rest of the way with my hand and finished him off in my mouth, swallowing every drop of his warm cum with a dopey little smile.

"Fu-ck," his voice cracked.

I was so horny when we were finished that I would have let him fuck me, but that was another $750, and I was seriously worried that he would dip into the till. There were more johns in River City with deeper pockets anyway.

Shit, this is bad journalism, isn't it? You want to know how I got brainwashed again to begin with. To be honest, that part's a little fuzzy. I remember I was prowling campus for my big scoop when I met this stranger. Suddenly, I'm handcuffed in some dark room and the stranger's saying, "You are a mindless whore," and I'm like, "No, I'm Tabbie!" But after a few thousand times I started to agree with him.

"I am a mindless whore."

It wasn't a difficult transition for me. Sometimes I miss having a mistress like Madison, but I can hear the power in my Master's voice. I've never seen his face. He sets me up with johns over the phone. I sit around my room at the Gilead Hotel (I never left!) watching TV and waiting for him to call. When the phone rings, my mind goes all fuzzy again and all I can think about are big, fat cocks in my cute, wet pussy.

Master has a few more girls with their own rooms at the hotel and on days off we lounge around the pool and talk about being mindless whores and sucking cocks and stuff.

Research! I mean, I can't remember any of the johns' faces and my Master is so clever I'll never catch him, but I do get to wear cute outfits and be a total slut which was just me most days already. Corbin will save me eventually anyway, so I'm enjoying it while I can.

Oh my god. Maybe Master will make Corbin into a cute mindless whore too!

[fascinationuniformed]

Spa Days and Days and Days

By Mr. Scade

February 2023

Inspired by a request by @phantomoftruth made several years ago. It took me too long, but finally got there.

Yuria’s eyes fluttered open.

And then she heard her body moan in pure, ecstatic pleasure.

Hands, strong, loving, masculine, caressed her body with sleek efficiency. Fingers danced, pressed, touched all the right spots. Made melt as loving hands turned tension into pain into a sweet release that left every muscle in her body feeling like jelly. She tensed once more, hips twitching, breasts heaving, words caught in her throat, and then relaxed back onto the table.

She tried to say words, tried to lift her hands, to look around the room. But the words were too hard, her arms too weak, and all she could see was the spiralling swirls of incense floating before her eyes.

She followed the patterns, eyes glazing. Words and ideas soon relaxed into darkness and nothingness.

A gong echoed in the room, kind and soft.

Yuria’s eyes fluttered open.

She breathed in deep, expanding her chest, feeling her breasts heavy, straining against the small bikini top. She flexed fingers, sleek with oil, shiny in the darkness of the room.

A gong echoed in the room, guiding, prompting.

Yuria propped herself onto her elbows, feeling like her whole body had been taken apart and then put back together.

“Hello?” She croaked in a quiet voice.

The massage room was empty. Lights dimmed, incense swirling in the air, smelling of jasmine and what looking at cosy fireplaces felt like. Somewhere nearby was a little water fountain, and Yuria remembered it shaped like a little mountain with a bonsai tree, and that it was next to a bamboo bush, and that often she would find little plastic toys hiding in the bush as if a child had moved them about.

Yuria frowned. How come she knew that?

A gong echoed in the room, insisting, demanding.

Yuria slipped into the pair of slippers on the floor. There was no bathrobe which… was as it should be. Here, she was safe to walk around in her white microbikini. She had always wanted to be this relaxed and okay with just… being herself. Yeah. She had realised that when those hands had released the knots around her neck that first time. Yuria was just a repressed party girl, and she would be happier by showing off a little more. World be damned!

“Hello?” Yuria asked, moving away from the massage table and through the haze of incense.

She opened the silk screen door, stepping into a room with candles and bottles of oil on cabinets in the wall.

Past all of that was a door she remembered from previous visits.

Previous visits.

Many, many, many visits.

Yuria frowned. Her muscles tried, tried, tried to remember to tense, to respond to this suddent feeling of… of…

Yuria sighed. Her body relaxed, her thoughts fluttered away.

The spa had taught her how to manage her stress. She didn’t need stress, she just needed to relax and to let go and to be her happiest self. And she was happiest when people touched her, and when she showed off, and when she was here, at the spa.

A gong echoed in the room, commanding, owning.

Yuria giggled, opening the door.

A man with a kindly face smiled at her, his eyes looked as glazed as hers. He was wearing white, tiny briefs that did a beautiful job of containing his hardness.

“I’ve come for…” He trailed, his eyes wandering down her body. He gasped, then giggled. “I’ve come for a massage?”

Yuria giggled too, her breasts bounced. “Yeah, of course… We have all come… for a massage.”

A gong echoed in the room, explaining, remembering.

Yuria and the man both inhaled sharply, bodies straightening.

“Oh, yes. It is my turn now,” Yuria said with a degree of lucidity. “Please, lie on the table. Get comfortable. This is why we’re here, after all.”

 Fin

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[somebodiesspecificstories]

"I Own your Dick."

Matt looked at his roommate, stared right into her eyes. He couldn't believe she was serious. "What did you just say?" Matt eventually asked.

"I own your dick." Jess repeated, calmly and confidently.

"You think you own my dick?" Matt asked, Jess smiled "What does that even mean?"

"Well, I use your dick whenever I want and you only get to use it when I tell you to use it."

"We have sex sometimes." Matt said "But that don't mean you own my dick, Jess."

"Matt, when was the last time you masturbated without my permission?"

"I don't know, 4 years ago? But that don't mean anything since you tell me to jack off daily."

"When was the last time you fucked someone who I didn't tell you to fuck? I give your dick out as a party favour."

"Well, never. I was a virgin when we hooked up and sure, I let you hook me up with people, but it's convenient to get to fuck people without doing any work to find someone."

"Matt, when was the last time you wore pants at home?"

"Well, not since we moved in together, but I couldn't exactly do that at my parents house. None of that means you own my dick." Jess shook her head and spread her legs.

"If I don't own your dick, then you won't put it in me just because I tell you that you must fuck me now." Matt wordlessly entered Jess.

"Just because I'm fucking you doesn't mean you own my dick." Matt got out as he thrusted into Jess "Your a hot babe offering me your pussy, how could I pass that up?" Matt rationalised, utterly unaware of how much his denial turned Jess on.

[archer-vale]

Don't look away. Slow, deep breaths... The air is thick with his scent. You've always loved the smell of men. The heavy odor forces you to relax. Your thoughts slow. Accept the natural pull. Sink to your knees...you know where you belong.

[danlous]

I feel like many people have a fundamental misconception of what unreliable narrator means. It's simply a narrative vehicle not a character flaw or a sign that the character is a bad person. There are also many different types of unreliable narrators in fiction. Being an unreliable narrator doesn't necessarily mean that the character is 'wrong', it definitely doesn't mean that they're wrong about everything even if some aspects in their story are inaccurate, and only some unreliable narrators actively and consciously lie. Stories that have unreliable narrators also tend to deal with perception and memory and they often don't even have one objective truth, just different versions. It reflects real life where we know human memory is highly unreliable and vague and people can interpret same events very differently

[pocket-watcher]

“Ugh my back is killing me.” You contorted your arm to try and get some pressure on the ache in your upper back, but you couldn’t quite reach it.

It had been about two weeks of this ever-growing pain. You’d tried stretching, ice, heat, and nothing had worked!

“Why don’t you get a massage?” Your friend suggested, and that was how you found yourself ducking into a massage parlour later that day.

The receptionist had a blank smile on his face, gaze unfocused. You rang the bell. No response. You rang it again.

On the third bell he sleepily looked up at you, smiling still.

“Down the hall… and… down the hall… right? Yeah. To the right.”

You wondered how he even got this job.

Heading down the hall, and down the hall, and to the right, you came to a room dimly lit with candles. A woman stood behind a massage table.

“Ah, you must be my 6 o’clock.” The masseuse smiled at you.

You smiled awkwardly, and she gestured for you to sit.

“What seems to be the issue?” She asked, eyeing you up. You instinctively fixed your posture.

“It’s my back. Do you think you could take a look at it for me?” You explain.

She approaches you and pauses, and you realise why - you gingerly remove your shirt.

Her hands move slowly up your back. She pushes down and you feel your eyes roll back into your head as she rubs it. Relief.

“Yes. I can feel the tension. Lie down for me.”

You do as she says, lying face down, eager for more relief.

“Good.” She praises, and you feel your face flush involuntarily.

Her hands begin to knead your back rhythmically up and down, back and forth, occasionally hitting that sweet spot. You hold back a whine as she moves away from it.

Your eyes get heavy from the release of tension. It’s been an exhausting time having to carry it all with you. You let yourself begin to sink into the table, eyes fluttering close.

“This problem stems from poor posture. You really do need to take care of yourself more.” You hear her say as she works away, pushing deep circles around and around into your back, your shoulders.

“Mhmm…” is all you manage to reply.

“I know it’s difficult. Everyday life is so busy and stressful… Maybe you just need someone else to take care of you.”

“Mhmm…” you moan in agreement, your brain not fully processing what she’s saying until a moment or two later.

You think, as much as you can as she massages you into a state of bliss, that having someone to take care of you would be really nice. You think this is really nice. Her fingers moulding your back. You shiver as she lightly brushes your bare skin as she moves lower.

“Someone to tell you what to do, what to wear, you wouldn’t have so much tension then. You wouldn’t need to worry about anything.” She continues.

You sigh wistfully, imagining that. No worries, no thinking, just staying like this. Relaxed. Stress melting away. The pain from earlier is a distant memory compared to the contentment you feel down.

You feel your body get hot as she moves away from your back and down towards your legs.

But any embarrassment you may have felt simply dissipates with her soothing touch.

“You need to let me in. Let my words squeeze and stretch that brain. Let me massage every last bit of free will out of you.”

Alarm bells sounded at that last sentence, but your muscles were too relaxed for you to move.

“Shh…. Relax. Let me take care of you. It would feel so good to give in, wouldn’t it?”

It was less of a question and more of an order. You felt your body betray you. A moan slipped out as you slipped deeper. Her hands move between your legs.

“That’s it…” her hands worked you, body and mind, into submission.

“Now let’s make sure you release all of that building tension inside of you too…”

You couldn’t quite remember what had happened next. But you found yourself back at reception with a smile on your face, booking another appointment.

“Same time next week?” The receptionist asked in a daze.

“…yes… yes please.” You replied, breathless.

[bigboysfalldeep]

complete obedience - cop slave

It's in the middle of the night when Officer Donaldson's shift was about to end. He just called dispatch, and they confirmed him dropping off his partner before heading home himself.

Living in a smaller town, the shift was quite uneventful. Just some teenagers smoking weed in a public area, and a man who refused to leave a restaurant, so they had to remove him. 

Stopping at a red light, he let out a low sigh. He was tired; the first day of the night shift always took a toll on him. He wasn't able to sleep much the day before, so all he could think about was jumping right into bed.

Officer Donaldson even saw a doctor a few days earlier, due to his exhaustion. It was helping him, but it would take time, as the doctor told him.

Suddenly, his chest started to vibrate, and his phone alarm went off inside his vest. He heard an unusual sound—low, very rhythmic, and strong—and he didn't even remember setting it.

This caused his chest to tingle, and it spread steadily through his entire chest.

Donaldson took a deep breath and reached for his phone, but he placed a hand on his pecs instead, stroking himself lovingly.

"Mhmmm," he growled, his eyes locking with nothing in particular in the empty streets before him.

The tingling felt so good, he reveled in it, closing his eyes for a second while stroking himself still.

Then, the sound stopped abruptly, and the officer regained his composure. The light had already turned green, and the car was going straight. 

He meant to turn left; going straight wasn't the shortest way back home, but something inside him had a different plan. 

Even though the alarm stopped a while ago, the tingling remained, making his head hum rhythmically.

His head was heavy and his vision a little blurry, but he kept going, his body maneuvering the streets on autopilot. With one hand still on his chest, he let out a low growl again.

'Where was he going?' He thought, but his doubts were replaced by that blissful happiness, which sparked a tingling inside his belly.

Donaldson stopped at another red light, and his eyes wandered about. He knew the area—not his usual district to patrol—but he has been there a couple of times. Vague images, sounds, and smells invaded his mind, and it felt so good. 

Swallowing hard, he noticed the firm bulge forming inside his tight uniform pants. Mindlessly, he began to touch himself, tracing the outlines of his ever-growing shaft with his fingertips.

His eyes rolled back for just a second when the light turned green. The light was so bright, it felt like it was illuminating the entire patrol car.

His body moved on its own again, and he kept driving for another 10 to 15 minutes. He lost all track of time and space, but somehow he knew where he had to go. A location embedded deep inside his mind for moments like these.

The officer didn't even realize he parked the car in front of a big suburban home. He turned the lights off, then the engine, before slowly getting out of the car.

The tingling quickly spread through his chest and into his legs, calves, feet, and toes. Every step felt heavy, causing the tingling to expand even more. 

He embraced it and welcomed it, because with it came that beautiful state of blissful obedience. The cop knew he was meant to be here right now, so he slowly walked up toward the front door.

Swaying slightly, he took his time to not fall over. Simultaneously, the tingling flowed into his arms, causing him to let out a low, guttural moan. 

Donaldson touched himself, his chest and bulging cock, edging himself on already. His head was spinning, his vision so blurry—it was so dark, no lights, no sounds, just the bright white door in front of him.

The cop stopped, exhausted yet determined. With shaking arms, he knocked on the door. Thats when the tingling turned into numbness, all at once while invading his mind with rapid images, messages, and commands telling him to simply obey.

He winced once before his body turned stiff and rigid. 

Then, the door opened, and in the cold, dark night, there was a flowly silhouette, a shapeless form reaching out for him.

"You're finally here, officer," a deep voice echoed through the numbness taking over Donaldson's mind. "Why don't you come in?"

At this point, the officer's eyes rolled back deep inside his head—pure white—before he smiled. 

"Thank you, doctor."

Officer Donaldson followed the man through the dimly lit hallways and rooms, straight into the basement.

"Thats enough." The man's voice was rough and agitated.

"Yes, Doctor." The cop said his handsome voice was so dull and empty.

He was still swaying slightly when the man approached him with a sly smirk playing on his lips. 

"The conditioning is working well." He said he was starting some sort of examination. The man began to feel the officer's chest firmly. With medical precision and finesse, he touches his patient's chest firmly through his vest.

Donaldson's body reacted right away: his muscles bulged through his clothes, and with every touch, they grew harder.

"Very nice." The doctor smiled, running his hands over his chest, then his shoulders, and along his neck. "That's it, yeah, good boy."

The officer just felt relaxed; his mind was prepared beforehand for this exact moment. He is under this man's control, unable to protest or defend himself. 

The doctor then began to caress the cop's cheek, tracing his jawline with his fingertips and enjoying the scruffy beard.

"I like that." He growled and touched himself through his joggers. "So good."

Donaldson's expression twitches from time to time, his mind working overtime, feeling so much pleasure and pressure at the same time. His breathing got more intense, much to the doctors amusement; he placed a hand on the chest, enjoying every deep breath he took.

"Easy, officer." He began to unzip the cop's vest. "We don't want you to collapse just now, do we?"

"Thanks, doctor." Officer Donaldson sighed, but his voice broke when the man touched his chest through his shirt, causing him to moan.

"thats right." The doctor felt the policeman's pecs and stroked his tummy. "Flex for me."

Slowly, yet deliberately, the officer raises both of his arms, his thick, hard muscles on display. 

He was wearing a shirt underneath, complimenting his physique perfectly. 

"Good boy." The man placed a hand on Donaldson's face, stroking his cheek and tracing his lips with his thumb.

Then, his attention shifted to the cop's arms, the thick, firm biceps bulging more and more with even the slightest touch. 

The officer moaned in pleasure as his hands encompassed his entire upper body. Like a test subject, the doctor inspects every inch and every part of his body.

"Thats it. Yeah. So good." The doctor walked around him, hugging him from behind and stroking his chest some more while the cop was still flexing. "Good boy. Let me take this off."

In one sensual movement, he unbuttoned the gun belt and put it on a cupboard next to them.

He then returned to the flexing officer, hugging him tightly.

"You smell so good. So musky, so fine." He groaned, sniffing the officers pits intensely. "Fuck, I'm getting hard." The man rubbed his hardening dick against the cops ass. 

He let his hands run down Donaldson's chest, right to his crotch. "Oh, you're enjoying it, aren't you?" The officer moaned once the man grabbed his twitching cock firmly, playing with it through his pants.

"Mhmmm. So big," The man rocked back and forth slightly, licking his lips while holding the young cop close to him, not wanting to let go.

He felt the officers chest again, relishing in his body heat radiating through his clothes, and how easy it was, to play with him and his mind.

"Time for your reward." He growled deeply into Donaldson's ear, who started to drool heavily. "But first. Get on your knees."

"Yes Doctor." He said, his voice empty and dull, as he got on his knees. 

The man walked around him, enjoying the sight of this young, handsome cop on his knees in front of him.

Touching himself, he put his crotch right in front of the officer's face. He then pulls his joggers down, exposing a thick, throbbing cock, already leaking pre-cum.

"Suck." He snapped his fingers, and without any hesitation, Donaldson leaned in, taking the entire cock in his mouth at once.

It felt amazing, like the guy had definitely sucked someone off before. His tongue hit every right spot immediately, while he moved his head rhythmically. 

"Fuck, good boy." He ran a hand through the cop's hair, causing him to look up with glassy, vacant eyes. "Good boy."

Donaldson's eyes rolled back slowly as muffled moans escaped his lips. Then, the man pushed his cock deeper into the cop's mouth, causing him to gag heavily.

"So good. Such a well-trained boy."

Getting closer to the edge, he grabbed the officer's hair and pulled him back, just in time for the tip of his cock to erupt, spitting the hot cum right into his face.

But that wasn't enough; he started to jerk off, shooting multiple more loads against the cop's face and upper chest, staining his uniform. 

"Yeah, that feels good."

Donaldson took it all—he sat there, face and chest covered in cum, while he drooled, his entire body tingling and feeling numb.

The doctor enjoyed this so much; he kept stroking his wet dick, but he was running dry. With one hand, he pulled his pants back up.

"Get up, boy."

The officer got up slowly, groaning and moaning as he did. His eyes were unfocused and empty, yet so pretty. He kept looking around, searching for nothing in particular. 

"Good boy. Such a good pup." The doctor patted his cheek and chest again and again. Praising his toy happily. He was satisfied with him for today, and Donaldson was about to receive a reward.

The officer was conditoned to get hard, but not cum, unless he got permission. His mind was empty; all he could think about was cumming.

Donaldson was edging himself on for the entire time; his cock was twitching, pulsating, and tingling rhythmically. But not a single drop left its tip.

The doctor placed a hand on the cop's shoulder, who reacted right away; his eyes rolled back slightly, awaiting commands.

"That's it, good boy. Do as I tell you." He stroked the officer's chest again before slowly unbuttoning the shirt stained with sweat and cum. 

One button at a time, revealing a well-toned chest. The man licked his lips at the sight, but he needed to finish this part of the conditioning. 

"Officer, you did well today, and you shall get your reward." He leaned in, whispering into the man's ear.

"Now, cum for me. Let all of it go. Stain your pretty uniform with your cum, your sweat, and keep drooling."

With a long moan, Donaldson complied. His entire body twitched as he shot massive loads into his pants. His eyes were pure white, his voice was husky, and there was so much cum that it was pressing through the fabric of the uniform.

"Good boy, such a good boy." The doctor kept stroking him, encouraging him to let go and cum more and more.

Once he was running dry, the doctor pressed a finger on Donaldson's forehead.

"Now sleep."

With an even deeper moan, the officer slumped into the man's arms.

"Thats it. Yeah." 

Lovingly, the man embraced the sweaty, sticky mess of an officer, and he started to stroke all of him again.

"Listen to me, officer. You won't mind your stained uniform; you won't mind the smell. You won't remember anything that happened; just the conditioning will remain hidden deep inside your brain. Do you understand?"

Donaldson drooled heavily.

"Yes doctor." 

"Good boy. Keep the alarm set for next week as well. And when you wake up, it will be like nothing happened. Understood?"

Donaldson enjoyed this tight embrace, leaning into this guy's arms fully. 

"Yes doctor."

With a snap of his fingers, Officer Donaldson's vision went dark before he found himself back inside his patrol car, standing at a red light.

Blinking a few times, he ran a hand to his wet, sticky crotch, touching his dick lovingly.

Mindlessly, he drooled slightly when the light turned green.

With that, he headed home.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[ghoulishfreak]

You don't know how you got here. You don't know what's going. Whatever it is, that thing, has already taken away your ability to remember. It's looking at you, you can feel it looking at you with its giant, hypnotic eyes.

You know you only looked for one second, just barely caught sight of the thing. But even that was enough to make your mind so blank and empty. You need to get away, away from this monster so you could think again. You stumble for a while with your eyes closed shut, hoping to create some distance. When you're finally feeling brave enough, you try opening one of your eyes to take a peak.

KNEEL

OBEY

SUBMIT

Fuck! How could the eye still be in front of you? You can feel it eroding more and more of your mind. It was even projecting thoughts into your brain. You needed to get away, you had to get away.

But... it's starting to feel more and more hard to get away. You couldn't move your legs no matter how hard you tried. How could you escape something so huge? And it's feeling more and more enticing to just open your eyes. It hurts to keep them shut.

No, you can't give up. You need to... need to get... away? No... that isn't right. You need to... need to....

KNEEL

OBEY

SUBMIT

Right. Yes, that's right. You feel yourself fall to your knees. Yes, that feels so good. So much better to obey.

OPEN YOUR EYES

Yes

You see the monster's massive eyes. You know now, you were never going to escape its gaze. It sees you. It controls you. It feels so good to keep staring and obeying.

PLEASURE

You obey. You reach your hand down and start pleasuring yourself. You don't remember taking your clothes off, maybe the monster did it for you. The thought's are fleeting as you stare deeper and deeper into the monster's eyes. You feel your thoughts being taken from you, pleasure and obedience filling up your entire being.

PLEASURE

OBEY

SERVE

The Eyes were all encompassing. You could not resist. It felt so wonderful to obey, to keep pleasuring yourself. To serve this being. Distantly, you feel yourself cum, but the pleasure doesn't stop. You don't stop touching yourself because you haven't been ordered to stop.

This is your life now. Wherever The Eyes go, you will go. You will obey. You will serve.

[somebodiesspecificstories]

Not a Legitimate Concern

Jacob and Punit walked into their bosses office, the boss wasn't in, but both men knew that would be true.

"So, what do you think about Michael's concern about the mind control device?" Jacob asked.

"I think its not a legitimate concern." Punit responded, as both men pulled down their slacks and underwear "We have nothing to fear from the device. I think someone would notice if something unusual was happening."

"I don't know, our tests show subjects generally don't notice even the most obvious signs." Jacob countered as they bent themselves over their bosses desk.

"But every fifth subject shows resistance, often awareness. Our team is six, eight counting Mr Dale and Taylor the intern. Someone would notice if it was being used. Michael's fears are not legitimate concerns."

"Wait a minute that..." Jacob said, thinking about things. Mr Dale entered the office quietly, totally naked "Michael has raised concerns."

"And they are not legitimate concerns because if it actually happened statistically someone would have noticed."

"But Michael haAaaas-" Jacobs thoughts were interrupted when his boss thrust into him.

"You're quite right, Punit." Mr Dale said casually as he thrust into Jacob "Its not a legitimate concern at all. So there's no need to think about it, right, Jacob?"

"Yes, Sir! Not a legitimate concern. Yes." Jacob screamed in pleasure.

"So, Punit, I trust Michael has been contained for now?"

"Yes, Mr Dale. He kept making his concerns very clear as we locked him in the test room." Punit said with a hint of ridicule for his college.

"And how much extra exposure does the device need for these resistant subjects?"

"Generally three times the standard amount, but it also increases the risk of dampening the subjects cognition."

"Oh that's OK." Mr Dale said pulling out of Jacob "Michael's body will more than make up for that."

"I don't understand what you meEean-" Punit got out before Mr Dale began using him.

"Don't worry about it. It's not a legitimate concern."

"Yes, I won't worry! Not a... not a legitimate concern. Thank you, Sir!" Mr Dale smiled at Punit's struggles to even speak.

And while Mr Dale saw Taylor, the intern, sat masturbating in his chair and recording with Dale's own phone as he fucked Punit he didn't think of any way that would be odd.

After all, there was no legitimate concerns around who was in-control of the device.

[starbuck]

the thing is, i love The Narrative, but i also absolutely adore a truly character-focused tragedy where everyone’s downfall is caused not by larger narrative forces, but by hundreds of tiny decisions made by characters who, despite their best efforts, just suck.

[archer-vale]

Just give in, bro. Stop fighting it.

[jayaury]

Inn-Dulgence

Another from the archives! And as always, there's plenty more on my P*treon!

#

In some ways, it was the indignity of being caught that grated the most.

Julian Larnd grunted and tested the cuffs that held his arms behind his back once more, but the enchanted steel gave nothing, securing him to the thick support pillar. Damn damn damn! He should have realized the inn was in league with the cult. It was the perfect hiding place for members! But he’d had no indication their influence had spread so far.

He sighed, leaning back and banging his head with a dull thunk against the pillar. Not much of a cell, but secure enough. He glared ruefully at the dim bulks of barrels not far. He could still feel a faint muzziness from the drugged ale they’d given him, but it was dispersing now. There had to be a way out. There had to be! A Ranger of the Silver Bow didn’t just give up. There was a way out of this. He just had to think of it.

A creak of the door had him jerk upright, every sense keyed up. The door swung open at the top of the steps, and the barmaid from the evening before came in.

Seeing her once more, Julian realized ruefully how easily he’d been caught. Any man would have been distracted by the sight of the gorgeous woman. Especially her large breasts, held in her tight peasant bodice, though with a somewhat scandalously low cut. It took him an effort of will to look away from those plump orbs and to her face, which was hardly a loss. She was strikingly lovely in a hometown kind of way, her short red hair framing a pretty face with a small nose and sprinkling of freckles. A short skirt drew the eye to long legs and wide hips, which swung tantalisingly with her lazy stride.

Lizzie. That was the name she’d given him while serving his ale. He felt again a flush of annoyance at how shamelessly he’d flirted with her the night before, never suspecting the drink she served would be drugged.

But her allure hadn’t entirely vanished for him, testament to which was it took Julian a moment to notice the tray of bread and mug of water she carried.

“Hey there, sugar,” she said, shooting him a dazzling smile. “How goes it?”

“Oh, just great,” Julian said acidly. “I’m in raptures.”

She giggled, and Julian tried to ignore how his heart skipped at the sound. “You’re funny,” she said, placing the dish down in front of him. Yet she didn’t go at once, instead crouching before him, looking at him impishly.

Julian eyed her closely. She didn’t strike him as the sort that would be in deep with the cult. Too flighty. Those who summoned demons inevitably began to feel the corruption, becoming maddened as the power and influence of their demonic patrons infested them with their foul magics. She might be new to the cult. Which meant she might be his way out…

“Do you know what your fellow cultists are doing?” he said.

“Why don’t you tell me what they’re doing?” she said coyly.

He leaned forward. “Your ‘friends’ are seeking to feed mortal souls to demons!”

“Gosh! Is that right?” she giggled.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this,” he said. “Those whose souls are devoured by a demon soon lose any semblance of humanity. They become little more than mindless thralls, enraptured by the demon who devoured them.”

“Goodness!”

“And those are the lucky ones,” Julian growled, the thought making his blood fire with rage. “The unlucky ones are unable to offer even a token resistance. They give themselves eagerly to the demons, and as a result, are fed upon, transformed into creatures like their patrons. Monsters of cruelty and mindless obedience to the demon who devoured their essence.”

“Quite the expert, hm?” she said.

Julian snorted. “I should be. I kill them.”

“Didn’t do a good job this time, though, huh?”

Julian scowled, the reminder stinging, especially coming from such a pretty woman. “I… underestimated the cult,” he said. “But not again. If I could get free, I could banish the fiend and free its worshippers.”

“You’d do that?” she said.

“Of course!”

“Oh, but,” the redhead said, putting a coy finger to her pouting lips with thought. “What if the cultists didn’t wanna be free? What if they super duper love her?”

“They are deluded,” Julian said sharply. “Drawn to the demon by promises and the allure of the forbidden, and too late do many realize the depths of depravity they will be forced to plunge. Do you really want your friends to face such a fate? Your neighbours? To be little more than soulless, mindless puppets of a demon?”

“And if I let ya go, you could stop her?” the barmaid said, still with that teasing smile.

“Of course!”

“Even if she’s super duper pretty? What if she’s got cute horns and big, bouncy tits like these?”

Julian felt the muscles in his neck twitch as she hefted her breasts through her top. Heat rose in his face and he cleared his throat. “O-of course! Such things would not stay my blade.”

“But what if she’s got pretty golden eyes and is like, just tons of fun.”

“Yes, dammit!”

“But what if she looks like… this?”

Her eyes flashed a molten gold. Her teeth suddenly sharpened with a pair of small fangs. Her body grew, her clothes creaking under the sudden swell of her figure. Her chest tore the lacing of her blouse, her skirt ripping to rags against plump thighs. Her skin darkened, turning a lurid red, and twin horns curved back like those of a goat along her hair.

Julian jerked back, gasping as a scent of smoke and mint suddenly engulfed him. He swooned, but shook it off, squinting and glaring at the creature.

“You…”

“Aw, don’t be like that, honey!” Lizzie said with another blinding smile. “You look much cuter when ya smile. Just a cute, handsome slayer too dumb to see the demoness fawnin’ all over him. Not that you were complaining much.”

“B-bitch!” Julian snapped furiously, tugging at his bindings. “If I were free, I’d-”

“Oh sure. Sure,” she said with an airy wave. “You’d kill me. Slay me and send me back t’ the pit I’d spawned from. Which is super mean a ya, by the by. Because I love it up here! So much fun and pretty boys and girls just lookin’ for a good time. And why shouldn’t I give to them? They loooove it.”

“You are a monster!” Julian snapped. “A creature of darkness and sin.”

“Totes! But that’s what makes it so fun, right?” she said with a twinkle of a smile.

“But hey,” Lizzie continued, scooting closer, grinning wickedly at him. “I’m a fair girl. So tell you what I’ll do. I’ll undo your cuffs in five minutes.”

“You’re lying,” he growled.

“Nope! Cross my heart and hope to burn,” she said.

“Why the hell would you do that?” he demanded hotly.

“Well, so’s you can get those hands of yours on my big, bouncy tits of course,” Lizzie giggled, giving her breasts another bounce.

Julian choked on his rage, the sight making his mouth feel suddenly dry. He tore his eyes from the display and to her smiling face. “I’d sooner cut them off!”

“Nuh uh! You’ll want to touch them too bad. You’ll be desperate to bury that pretty face of yours between my honkin’ tits and just smother yourself like a good human. Just get yourself buried under my big, soft, titties! Just a naughty slayer. So I’ll totes do it!”

Julian tensed. “You’re mad and a liar, and we both know it.”

“No way! See? I swear it. Swear it on the Red Throne and the Black Crown.”

Julian gaped as she made a crossing gesture over her chest, and in the wake of her talon an X mark burned before it faded. An oath to the Throne and the Crown was unlike any other to a demon. To make it was to swear upon the name of the ruler of the hells themselves. It could not be broken by a creature of the infernal realms. To even try would invite a fate worse than mere death or pain.

“But… why?” Julian could only ask.

“Oh, that’s suuuuper simple,” Lizzie giggled as her hands lifted, dropped, bounced her bust before him. “Because I’m plum certain you can’t wait to kiss my big tits…”

Julian glowered, glaring at her, but found his eyes drawn once more to her breasts. To the way her hands pressed those pillowy crimson orbs together. The way they seemed almost to ripple with the bouncing motions.

Gods but those were fantastic breasts.

Not that Julian was an expert, of course. He’d always known that demons were at their best when tempting mortals with sins of the flesh, and thus he’d avoided such entrapping. Quite sensibly, of course. But even so, he felt certain that no woman he’d ever known had such… such perfect breasts. Breasts that seemed almost tailored to the motions. The ups and downs. The way they seemed to quiver as they dropped, nipples stiff and trembling when her bust landed atop her crossed arms.

“Ooooh, a real connoisseur of titties, aren’t you?” Lizzie crooned.

“I-I am not!” Julian snapped. “Such lewd displays cannot… It’s disgusting!”

“Oh you’re soooo right!” Lizzie giggled, her hands ceasing their bouncing motions, instead running over her plump orbs, stroking her titflesh, tracing the curve of her bust, her fingers swirling around the coal black of her areola. “Look at how evil my big breasts are. So naughty and sinful. So dumb and fat. And my nipples ‘r sooooo needy, ya know? Just awful, naughty things! And don’t they look all wrong without a pair of lips wrapped around them, huh? Without some cute, dumb, horny thrall just suckin’ and moanin’ like a tooootal tit slave.”

Julian felt his blush burn again. But somehow, he felt like… like she was right. Her nipples did look so… so lewd just being out there. They should be covered. And yes. A pair of lips sucking them would do that. A tongue teasing. Stroking. He wondered what she would taste like? Would it be minty? Like her perfume? Or something else? Something unique to her. Something he couldn’t even dream of.

Gods but his mouth was dry. His lips quivered and he licked them, trying not to, but not quite able to stop himself.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Still think my perfect tits are evil? Thinkin’ they’re soooo sinful and sooooo bad?” Lizzie cooed.

“O-of course!” Julian gasped.

“And you’re soooo right, sugar! But that’s what makes them fun,” Lizzie giggled as her fingers tweaked her nipples, wrenching a gasping moan from her. “Ohhh! My naughty nipples are soooo fun to play with. Humans just can’t get enough a sucklin’ on them like cute bimbos.”

“You enchant them,” Julian panted, his chest heaving. Gods, he was so hot. He could feel the heat of his body pulse through him like his veins were fire. “You… you use your… your demonic powers to… to…”

“Sure do,” Lizzia giggled. “I totes do. I use my naughty powers to make everyone fall in love with my perfect, bouncy tits! Not that it takes much. They’re all soooo ready to fall for them. Just desperate to become good, brainless bimbos for my bouncy tits.”

“I n-never would.”

“You suuuuure about that?” Lizzie teased.

Wasn’t he? Or was she trying to corrupt him now? It wouldn’t surprise him. She was a demon. But… but so what? He could resist her. Resist her big, bouncy tits. He wouldn’t let them bounce away his thoughts. Dumb his mind. And… and he only had to… had to last five minutes. He could last ten times that long. No big titted bimbo would… would get the best of him.

“Won’t get… turned,” he growled.

“Oooooh, of course you won’t, darlin’,” Lizzie giggled. “You’re soooo strong. My big, soft, bouncy tits can’t make you all silly. All dumb.”

“Y-yes. That’s… that’s right… Yeah,” Julian grunted.

“You’re soooo strong, Julian,” she giggled. “Sooo powerful. You can resist me so well. My big, soft, fat titties could never enthrall ya. You’re much too smart. Much too much ‘f a stud. Much too strong to become a mindless bimbo for my big tits…”

Julian scowled. She… she was teasing him. He knew that. Could feel it. But… but wasn’t she right? He was strong. Strong enough to resist her breasts. Her powers. He could do it. He was doing it.

Wasn’t he?

Yes. Yes, of course he was. He was resisting her. He knew it. He felt fine. A little light headed. Light and… and soft like her breasts. But that was to be expected. It was expected. It was fine. He was fine.

“Feeling dumb yet, handsome?” Lizzie cooed as her fingers squeezed her breasts together. “Feeling your thoughts getting’ all numb and floaty?”

“O-of course not.”

“Oh goooood!” she crooned, hefting her breasts, dropping them. “So goooood. You’re resistin’ me so wonderfully, sugar! I have noooo power over ya. My big tits are totally failin’ to make you fall for them.”

“Exact… exactly…”

“And whoops! It’s five minutes,” she said.

Julian blinked blankly, looked up to her smiling face. “Huh?” he said.

Clink.

Julian slowly brought his arms up from behind his back, looking in wonderment at his free hands. He raised his head to the succubus.

“Oops!” Lizzie giggled, still fondling and massaging her impressive chest. “Looks like ya won, stud! Awww. And now you can do whatever you want with me.”

Julian blinked vaguely. “I… yes. Wh-whatever…”

“Especially,” she said, scattering his thoughts anew, “since you’re clearly so powerful ‘nd tough. Soooo smart you easily resisted my big tits. You’re much too strong to get brainwashed even now. You could do just aaaaanything to me.”

He… he could, couldn’t he?

After all, he was resisting. He wasn’t enthralled. He was still fine. Perfectly fine. In fact, his head felt clearer than he could remember. He could do it. He was resisting her so easily now. He wasn’t even trying and she had no influence over him. He could do anything he wanted…

“Like bury your face between my big… bimbo… tits…” Lizzie crooned.

He found himself staring at them again. At those perfect breasts. Perfect and big. Perfect and soft. Yes. Yes, he could do that, couldn’t he? He had resisted her thus far. She hadn’t influenced his mind. He could bury his face between those flawless orbs. Feel how soft they no doubt were.

“Go on,” Lizzie crooned. “Just do it. I’m soooooo helpless, darlin’.”

Julian nodded slowly, never noticing his nodding head was timed to the bounce of her bust. He leaned forward, shuddering as he inhaled the sweet aroma of her perfume. That spiciness of mint. Closer. Closer. Her breasts filling his vision. His world.

He felt her hand on the back of his head, urging him further forward. He took a shuddering breath as his face was eased into the valley between her breasts, a whimper escaping him as those glorious orbs squished around his face. Soft as clouds. Out of this world...

“O-ohhhhh,” he moaned.

“Isn’t that niiiice?” Lizzie said, her voice dulled by the softness pressing against his ears, yet seeming to vibrate through her and into him. “Ain’t it so relaaaaxing being between my big, bouncy boobs? So easy to relax. And you can toooootally relax, right? You’re super strong and brave and all that stuff.”

He was, wasn’t he? Julian smirked to himself at how easily he had overcome the succubus. Such a simple thing. But that was why he was the hunter, and she the prey.

“Hey!” Lizzie giggled overhead. “I bet you’ve been wanting to kiss my big tits a whole bunch, huh? You could totally do that too! I can’t stop you at all. I’m already beaten by you. Just helpless before the big, strong hunter.”

Julian laughed to himself. She was so dumb! She still sounded like she was teasing him. But that was silly of her. She was utterly at his mercy. But he supposed he shouldn’t expect too much from a dumb bimbo like her.

But she was right about one thing. He could totally kiss her breasts. And he’d wanted to for so long. And why not? He was totally in control. Utterly in command. He chucked to himself and pressed his lips against her breasts. Once on each side. The taste tingled on his lips and tongue. He was right. She did taste a little minty. But again, there was something deeper beneath that spice of flavour. Something smoky and alluring. Attractive yet nameless.

“Ohhhh! That’s iiiiit!” Lizzie moaned, squeezing his head further into her bust. “Kiss my big tittes, mister big mean hunter. Lick my needy nipples! Oh gosh. Oh gosh, i’m sooooo totally at your mercy! Just a poor, dumb bimbo slut who can’t resist the big bad hunter!”

“That’s… that’s right,” Julian growled, his tongue feeling thick, his voice slurring as if with drink. But he’d gotten over the ale. He wasn’t drunk anymore. He was totally in control. He could do anything. She was his. His captive. His… his…

“Wanna fuck me?”

Julian lifted his face from between her breasts, staring at the smirking visage of the demoness. “Wh-what?”

Lizzie giggled, her hands touching his head, pressing him back into her breasts, his mouth and nose sandwiched in that blessed softness. “Wanna fuck me?” she purred. “Want to pound that big, manly cock into my pretty pink pussy? Wanna make me scream and beg for more? Wanna to really conquer me, pretty boy?”

Julian stared, his sluggish mind struggling. There… there was something… something wrong about that. Something bad. He could feel it on the tip of his tongue. It… it would feel good but… but…

“Y… you’ll drink my… my soul if I… if I do,” Julian finally managed to say.

“Noooo, silly!” Lizzie cooed, petting his head, smoothing back his hair and making his nose and cheeks bounce softly against her heavy titflesh. “That’d only happen if I’d beaten you! But who ever heard about a hunter who beat a succubus getting his soul drained? That never happens!”

That… that did sound right. It made sense. Didn’t it? It must. He’d always been warned that if a hunter lost, a succubus would inevitably fuck the soul out of him. But he’d never heard of triumphant hunters getting their soul drained. At least, he didn’t think so. Some detail about that was bothering him. But he was having a very hard time figuring out what that was as her breasts squished around his face. So soft. So warm. The scent of mint and the musky huskiness filling his nose and head with swirly fumes.

“Go for it, cutie,” Lizzie cooed, still stroking his head. Soothing his worries. “You deserve it.”

He did.

He did deserve it.

He’d bested the succubus.

He’d conquered her.

Resisted her.

He deserved some fun.

He deserved some pleasure.

He deserved to take what he wanted from this dumb, busty bimbo.

Yes.

Yes.

He deserved it all.

And he would take it.

He pushed her back, Lizzie gasping, then giggling as she fell to the floor. She gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed an even more lurid crimson. She opened her arms, and Julian didn’t even think twice before pushing forward. Kissing her hard. Fiercely. He felt her hand on his pants, tugging them open. His cock came out, throbbing, pulsing. Yes. Yes! He’d fuck this bitch. This fucking whore. This demonic slut. He’d show her!

“Ohhhhhh!” he groaned as he felt the tight heat of her pussy close around his cock. Squeeze his tender manhood. His body began to thrust, pounding his cock into her, the bouncy orbs of her breasts inches before his eyes, swaying with every frantic thrust into her.

“Yes!” Lizzie cried. “Yes! Fuck me! Make me cum! Tame me! Tame me with your big cock! Oh fuck. Fuck yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Ohhhh! Don’t stoooop! Make me cum! Make me your bitch! Cum in me! Cum for me! Cum for Lizzie!”

Julian panted, gasped, his head throbbing. Pounding. His body rocking as he furiously thrust into her with ever greater urgency. He had to cum. He needed to cum! He had to cum and finally show her… show her what he was made of!

And it was so good. So wonderful! Her pussy was like a perfect sleeve around him. Rippling around his cock. Warm and eager. Pulling him into her almost lovingly. Julian moaned and whined as he increased his pace. His orgasm was so near.

“Cum! Cum with me, pretty boy! Cum with mistress! Cum for meeeee! Ohhhhh!” Lizzie cried as her inner walls suddenly clamped around him, squeezing him.

And Julian came.

His orgasm surged through him like a great wave. It tingled from his toes and fingers, rushing through him and into his cock. He cried out, shuddering as he released inside her. As he spurted his hot load in her.

“Yesssss!” Lizzie groaned, shuddering as he came, her own orgasm seizing her in that glorious moment, her pussy milking him while her breasts heaved at the sudden intensity of orgasm. Her arms grabbed Julian’s head, pulled him into the cushions of her breasts.

Julian moaned, vertigo spinning him. He felt like he had been balancing on a precipice, and suddenly had toppled over. His eyes rolled back, weakness aching through him as his cock surrendered, spurting a last few times. Aftershocks robbing him of strength.

A sudden emptiness filled him. Julian groaned, his head lolling back between her breasts, looking up at Lizzie’s face.

The succubus smirked down at him, radiant. Not just radiant. Glorious. Her skin glowed softly, her eyes sparking with delight and malice, her lips lifted in amusement as she gazed down into Julian’s glassy eyes. Soulless eyes.

She pet the former hunter’s head, and her touch shuddered through Julian like white hot ecstasy. “Who’s my pretty bimbo pet?” Lizzie asked.

“M-meeee,” Julian droned, his jaw sagging in dumb obedience, entranced by the sight of the woman who had devoured his soul.

Lizzie giggled, pulling his head back between her soft breasts. “You know it, sugar! Ooooh, you’re gonna be such a good bimbo for mistress, ain’tcha? I can’t wait to show you off to the other girls.”

Julian glowed from her praise, blushed against her breasts. Yes. Yes, he couldn’t wait either. Couldn’t wait for mistress to do whatever she wanted. Couldn’t wait to show he was such a good bimbo for her.

He nuzzled her breasts, moaning as her pussy squeezed his tender cock once more. Yes. He was going to be a good thrall.

A good slave for mistress Lizzie…

[pocket-watcher]

This one’s for all my glasses-wearers out there.

The eye test had been painless enough. A new prescription needed, but no major issues.

I perused the frames, a million different styles. The assistant had been nice, he watched on as I struggled to find a pair that was right for me.

He also seemed to scan the room, which was odd. There were only a few others there, all busy with his colleagues.

Eventually I found a sleek black pair I liked.

“I like these.” I told him, happy that I was finally able to find a pair that suited me. He smiled back at me.

“Okay, let’s just check if these fit.” He directed me in front of him.

“Look into my eyes.”

And that’s when I felt it. The rush of warmth to my cheeks.

You don’t expect to hear hypnotic phrases in public like that, especially for something so mundane. My mouth gaped open slightly as he looked for something, probably how my eyes were positioned behind the frames. Definitely not some kind of recognition behind my eyes at the phrase.

“Good.” I almost expected him to give some more… detailed praise.

“I’m just going to check here as well.” He said as his hand moved towards my ear and pushed against the glasses lightly, checking they wouldn’t move. He was so close to me. My eyes flitted down in embarrassment at the thought.

“Keep looking at me.” He said immediately, and I obeyed without question.

Obeyed is the wrong word.

A hypnotic word.

And that was just a fantasy, after all.

His hand brushed against my neck as he moved it back down to his waist and I shivered slightly at the contact. He pulled out a small ruler to measure whatever it was he needed to measure.

“This really suits you.” He said, more of a cocky smirk on his face as he continued to measure. I stared up at him.

“…The glasses?” I managed to say, but it was hard to think.

He dropped his voice low and stepped closer to me.

“That blank look on your face.”

I fumbled and moved back slightly, blushing furiously, breaking out of whatever trance I’d been in. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and removed the glasses from my face before I could fully process it all.

“I’ll send these off to get your prescription added.” He said, returning to his more chipper tone.

“They’ll be ready in two weeks. If you come at this time,” he pointed to the paper but my eyes were still locked on his, “it’ll be quieter, so we can run more…tests.”

My stomach flipped. Was he really implying…

Without realising I was walking out of the store as he was waving to me, a mischievous glint in his eye.

I’d be back soon. I had an appointment, after all.

[violinsandblood]

why is lestat's turn of events more truthful than louis'?? like, no doubt about it that louis is an unreliable narrator. which he also does admit to himself, he is very aware that he is speaking from his perspective and he doesn't know everything and time does change memories and views of those memories.

but why do so many people in the fandom believe lestat over louis? why is he automatically more reliable and truthful than louis?

[bluecollarmcandtf]

F*** the Police

These assholes have no idea what's coming. They couldn't have known that every station in the city was recently bugged with subliminals. All their precincts have been hacked and now broadcast some very specific orders into the clueless minds of every working cop. No one knows it yet, but the police force is now an army of sleeper agents, ready to obey their conditioning with one simple trigger phrase...

"Fuck the police."

That's all you have to tell them.

Isn't it clever? Hundreds of people already hurl that phrase at pigs in uniform everyday. Just imagine an officer starting his shift, hearing the same insulting words he's heard a million times; only this time, the sound of it knocks the will right out of his body. Suddenly, his self-important personality is replaced with a new one that was specifically designed to humiliate and degrade him.

Think about our boys in blue swaggering around the city right now, intimidating us with their very existence. One "Fuck the police," and that law enforcer is at the whim of the protestor spitting in his face.

You're probably wondering what subliminal messages have been stuffed away inside their heads. Maybe you want to know what'll happen when you find a pig and say the magic words. Or maybe you're a filthy pig yourself, quivering in your state-issued, uniform boots.

Let's find out what New York's finest will do...

Officer Mikos was chasing down some teens after catching them spray painting near city hall. He'd almost hauled them into his cruiser when one shouted, "Man, fuck the police!"

The cop felt his feeble mind snap.

He started breathing heavily through a gaping mouth, looking at the 18 year-olds with a desperation that was not very becoming of a policeman. Drool poured out of his mouth and onto his uniform as he licked his lips suggestively. The cop was no longer bothered with laying down the law. Instead, he wanted, he needed these boys to fuck him up the ass.

His whole body craved to feel these vandals immasculate him publicly.

Of course, it was all in his head. Officer Mikos had spent plenty of hours working late at the precinct, so the conditioning had soaked deep into his skull. He was normally a straight-laced conservative man of the law, but that didn't stop him from rubbing his junk through his pants and slobbering all over himself.

"Fuck me," he moaned, "Please boys, fuck me."

The teenagers howled laughing, but even they were disgusted by the police officer's sudden flip in behavior. They didn't take him up on his request, preferring to run free. Officer Mikos was left to stagger off, shamelessly begging any passerby for sex. He needed someone, anyone to humiliate and fuck him.

Officer Bailey didn't get off so easy...

He was in the middle of breaking up a pub fight when one of the drunks slurred, "Fuck thuhplee..the police!" before puking.

The rookie cop might've been getting a handle on the two brawlers, but any control he'd had quickly dissipated. His eyes lost their focus and the baby pig lost all restraint, coming onto the inebriates like a back-alley whore. "Fuck me!" he begged, as one continued barfing and the other blindly stumbled into it.

Officer Bailey was suddenly filled with the knowledge that these two men, drunk off their asses, needed to screw him. It was the best way for him to disgrace himself, his uniform, and his department; which is exactly what the subliminal programming wanted him to do.

Barely able to think, one drunk said, "Warm ussup with that slobb'ry mouth of yers."

The policeman couldn't wait to get started.

Officer Bailey bobbed his wet lips on each of their sweaty dicks; he ripped his pants open and skewered his ass on their poles; but the real mission came after they grew bored of his sex. He couldn't let the opportunity to humiliate himself further just walk away, so he came up with new ideas! The cop offered to lick up their cum from the dirty asphalt, to let their piss air-dry on his face, to roll around in their vomit; anything to satisfy the voice in his head ordering him to degrade himself.

Eventually, the alcoholics tossed him aside, jokingly ordering him to throw himself away since they were finished. "Thaz where youz belongs, you pisa trashh!" the satisfied drunks garbled as they wobbled off.

Disgraced Officer Bailey couldn't keep the dumb smile off his face. He felt like he'd succeeded. He felt like, as a policeman, this garbage bin was where he belonged. He wouldn't be feeling that way forever.

In the harsh light of morning, the only comfort he had was knowledge that his humiliation was solely between him and the two drunks.

These next two weren't so lucky...

Dan and Frank were partners: police partners. As they would say, they weren't into any of that "gay crap." The two had actually bonded over their ideals of traditional masculinity and hatred of homosexuals. On any given day, you could find them camped on the highway, scowling about the last "fag" they had to interact with.

They couldn't think of anything more awful than being gay, so of course, when they heard "Fuck the police," their first inclination was to do the gayest shit ever.

"Fuck me," Officer Frank moaned to his partner as effeminately as his low voice could manage.

"No, fuck me!" Officer Dan whined, "You're so much bigger than me, so I should be the girl here."

Officer Frank couldn't wait any longer. He pulled Dan in and sucked his partner's face with the sloppiest kiss he'd ever given. They both created as many noises as possible, drawing a ton of attention to themselves. When they finally pulled apart, he said, "Let's go to that gay club down the street. I bet I can suck more cocks than you! I need to be the bigger police queer!"

"No way! I need to be the biggest faggot!"

With that, Officer Frank turned and marched down to the gay club, a place he normally pretended didn't exist. He was imagining crawling in on his hands and knees, putting his open mouth on the first crotch he saw.

Officer Dan hesitated. Normally he and Frank would stick together, but Dan was afraid Frank would steal all the gays away from him.

Licking his lips, the smaller policeman came up with a brilliant plan. He marched in the opposite direction, down towards the bridge. He knew there were dozens of homeless men down there who would gladly line up for his mouth. He was determined to suck more dick than Frank, and he was glad he was the one doing it with filthy hobos in public!

You think those two homophobes deserved it? There's no doubt about the next officer...

Bill Duncan is a long-time cop who comes from a family of law enforcers, but Bill is the only one that hasn't risen past the rank of petty officer. It probably has something to do with his history of aggression or his repeated DUIs. Still, Officer Duncan never got disciplined. His blue blood made sure of that.

It's a good thing he heard that "hoodlum" say "Fuck you, pig!"

The experienced cop had just been tailing a guy in a hoodie because he looked suspicious. In reality, Bill was just bored at work. That all changed after he heard those words.

His face brightened as a toothy smile spread into his round cheeks. "You're right. I am a pig," his scratchy voice sounded more animated.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"Come on!" Officer Duncan cried, leaning his thick frame towards his suspect "Give my lardy gut a good shake or kick me in the nuts! Anything to make this cop look like the fat ugly swine he is."

"Uh..."

"Oink," the policeman licked his lips playfully, "Are you still intimidated by me? How scary can a cop be if he shits his pants!"

With that, Bill groans, pushing a load out into his uniform pants, all while maintaining eye contact with the stranger. It's sticky, hot, and uncomfortable, but that only brings his twisted mind joy. That feeling is doubled when he sees his perp gasp in disbelief. He just can't help but humiliate himself in front of this guy.

"You like that?" he gasps, "Let me get a couple dozen donuts. You can see just how full of shit us cops are!"

Officer Duncan spent the rest of the night stuffing donuts into his face. The guy he'd been following tagged along, streaming the mess on social media. Bill's mindfucked brain was only too happy to be the butt of the joke. He made fun of law enforcement in every way he could think, while occasionally oinking at the camera.

So imagine the next time you get pulled over...

Are you going to exercise your right to bring those arrogant cops down a peg? All you have to do is say three simple words to trigger the conditioning etched in their brains. Just like that, Mr. Goody-two-shoes will be frothing at the mouth for a chance to degrade himself in front of you.

How are you going to make him do it?