Ccdgurlcathy’s Panty Lingerie Loving Site

[jukeboxemcsa]

Gilly Has a Problem and Miss Nance Has a Solution

"I, um… I have kind of a problem," Gilly mumbled, practically swallowing her words in her efforts to keep quiet so no one else in the sorority would hear her. It was late at night, and she was out in the hallway even though the door to Miss Nance's room hung open, and she didn't want to make a big disturbance because the problem she had was personal and intimate and she'd die of embarrassment if anyone other than the… the housing director, she thought, stumbling over the colloquial phrase 'sorority mom' even in the privacy of her own head… ever heard about it.

Miss Nance sat up in her bed, her sheet sliding away to reveal a pair of pendulous breasts that immediately caught and held Gilly's gaze, and favored her with a sympathetic smile. "Well, why don't you come in and tell me all about it," she murmured, her voice as soft and sweet as the nectar of a pitcher plant, and she slid the covers aside completely to expose her nude body and patted a spot on the mattress right between her spread legs. Gilly couldn't help letting out a quiet, chuffing grunt of arousal, and she felt like she was moving underwater when she stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her before slipping out of her robe to walk naked to another woman's bed.

"It's, um, I'm--I've got these, uh, urges," she muttered, and she felt the oddest sense of familiarity as the words escaped her lips--it was almost like she'd heard them before, like there was a script inside her head that she didn't know about until she spoke the words and discovered she was really only reciting and not thinking for herself. Her legs spread wider and wider the more she tried to think about it, and she was acutely aware of the warmth of Miss Nance's bare breasts against her back, and she struggled to remember exactly why she thought it would be a good idea to come and talk to her sorority m--to her housing director about a bad case of wet pussy but then the other woman hooked her ankles around Gilly's knees and everything inside her head got mushy.

"Well, I think it's a good thing you came to me, dear," Miss Nance purred, putting her left arm around Gilly with her hand resting squarely on Gilly's breasts and reaching down with her right arm to caress Gilly's slick and messy cunt. "I know you girls get that kind of urge sometimes, and it's so nice to know you trust me enough to bring that kind of problem to me so I can make it all better." She pressed hard over Gilly's clit to emphasize certain words, and already Gilly could feel herself dropping into a kind of fugue state as the arousal she'd been fighting all night simply reared its head and swallowed Gilly's mind whole. She couldn't make herself think, only feel, and it felt so good to listen and obey.

But it only fully clicked into place when Miss Nance cooed, "Mommy always makes it better, doesn't she, sweetie?" and Gilly let out a strangled whine of pure ecstasy as she came on the older woman's fingers. She was being trained, she realized, hypnotized and conditioned and programmed to obey, and she knew she wasn't alone in her submission because she'd seen the other women in her sorority walking out of Miss Nance's bedroom with their faces flushed and their eyes glassy. But she always forgot, because her brainwashing made it easy to forget, and she was going to end this night forgetting everything all over again beyond the unswayable conviction that she needed to be a good girl for her sorority mom.

(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!)

[vivisectedg1rl]

petting her while we watch videos on my laptop🥺

[ppgirl420]

bestie are you good? you just reblogged "petting her while we watch videos on my laptop" again

[hypnopum]

“Oh, honey, look at you, you were so smart twenty minutes ago.” Your hypnotist said, gently cupping your cheek with a hand. “Now look at you. So stupid…” Your hand was moving, out of your control. They laughed at you. “It’s okay, you look good like this.”

Their laughter made everything feel so hazy. Like your thoughts were treacle. You didn’t want to think. You couldn’t think. “All that IQ, all those thoughts, and ideas, drained down between your legs. Keep touching yourself for me.” Like you could stop, even if you wanted to.

They leant down, closer to you. Their scent filled your nostrils, making your brain even foggier. “Touch yourself stupid. That’s a good toy. I want you braindead. Hey, what’s two plus two?”

Your brain was stalling. There was an answer there but… “F-f-”

The word wouldn’t leave your lips. Your hypnotist laughed again. “Oh, f-f-” They were mocking you, and it just turned you on more. “Come on toy, you can answer that. Surely you haven’t got that stupid, have you?”

“Fuck…” You finally said. Was that the answer? You didn’t know.

They were laughing harder now. “Awh, I guess you have got that stupid.” Their hand moved to your head, tousling your hair, as they stood back up. “Well, let’s see what else you’ve forgotten. Where do you live?”

There was only one word in your brain. “Fuck.”

You didn’t know if that was the only thing you could say. Or if it was just all that was on your mind, as your hand kept moving. “Good! And what’s your name?” They asked.

You tried to resist saying it. “F-mmmnh-fuck!” But by now, your mouth was beyond your control.

“That’s right, fuck.” They leant down again, close to you. “That’s your name. You just told me. So why wouldn’t it be? Such a good toy. So brainless. Keep touching. Keep sinking. I want to see how long it takes before you actually damage your brain!”

* * *

This was released yesterday on patreon (patreon.com/hypnopum) and subscribestar (https://www.subscribestar.adult/hypnopum)! Support me there to get early access to all future microfictions, from just £1/month! Or, from £5/month, you get access to my longer pieces!

You can also buy my book, Mesmorium, now, on Amazon, and Smashwords. It's an anthology of twelve tales of deliciously hot hypnosis and mind control. It's queer, and sexy as hell!

[krajina-kot]

Inviting over your hypnoslvt friend for a movie, but you secretly play an edited version that has been spliced with a hypno file.

You guys start watching and everything seems normal, however in slow bursts the screen flashes with a spiral for a 10th of a second, barely enough to be perceived. The language starts getting more suggestive. The frequency of the spiral flashes increases while still being covert. Being so focused on the movie itself she doesn’t realize what’s happening. Whispers start echoing from the surrounding speakers but they also hide themselves from her main awareness.

You begin to test if the hypno file is working:

“Could you bring me a glass of water”

She immediately gets up without a second thought to quench your thirst.

You resume the movie and the hypno file starts to take over. It becomes the reverse, mostly spirals and mantras with a little bit of the movie sprinkled in. Now she’s deeply focused and entranced by the screen. Following all the suggestions to remove her clothes and obey her new master.

“I obey”

She repeats as she’s a kneeling drooling hypboslvt in front of the screen

[another-hypno-toy]

so, um, who's inviting me over for movie night?

[dreambelievetoyourselfsblog]

There’s something dangerously intoxicating about being controlled without ever realizing it’s happening. Opening a harmless-looking file, only to lose hours of time and wake up with nothing but fragments of memory and a damp seat beneath me. Feeling invisible triggers buried deep in my mind suddenly take over my body dropping to the floor before I can even question why, my lips parting instinctively, desperate to obey commands I don’t fully understand.

The idea of being slowly rewritten from the inside out is addictive. Every command sinking deeper, every humiliation stripping away another layer of resistance until there’s nothing left except devotion, obedience and the overwhelming need to please. No thoughts, no pride, no control just a dumb, eager puppy waiting for the next order.

[caelia-does-stuff]

"The lights are so pretty, aren't they?" The voice of your partner snaps you back to reality. You realise that you'd been lost in thought, daydreaming while at the hot pools with your partner.

"Umm yeah, they really are," you manage to stutter out through your daze, looking up at the lights hanging from the ceiling. Of course, the first thing you both noticed when you'd walked into the private spa was the multiple, colourful jellyfish shaped lights suspended at various heights above the pool.

"Which one is your favourite?" she continues, "I think you'll like the pink one there." She points at one just above your eyesight.

"Wait which one is pink?" You ask, head spinning as your eyes struggle to focus on any one light in the sea above you.

"That one right there. Hmm wait no," she smirks, "seems like the colour has cycled past pink." You start to turn towards her, when she grabs your chin and tilts your head up forcing you to keep looking, "just keep staring, and I'm sure it will cycle back through to pink eventually."

You stare, eyes growing ever more blank. Even if she wasn't holding your chin, your body is too weak to do anything else. Your partner leans in close, whispering quietly in your ear. At least you think thats whats happening. You can't be sure because it's almost like the lights are sucking up your attention, stealing your thoughts. Capturing your memories and dragging them up with them into the glistening sea. You can feel your grasp of what's happening around you slipping, as everything goes blank....

"The lights are so pretty, aren't they?" The voice of your partner snaps you back to reality. You've been daydreaming, right?

[jukeboxemcsa]

A Strong, Powerful Woman

"Wow, you're handling this a lot better than I thought you would."

Yeah, well, you thought I was a lightweight, didn't you? What was it you said, I would tap out after two orgasms? No way. My will is fucking indomitable, asshole. I can--nnhhh! I can keep this thing right on my clit until the goddamn cows come home.

"No, no, I'm definitely very impressed by the strength of your will. And the dildo up your ass? It's not too big?"

It's--ohhh, ffffuccckkk…. It's like I told you. I can take the biggest toy you have and--hhhhhh--and keep fucking it until your arm gets tired. I, I love a challenge, motherfucker. I can always beat you, I can always… w-win….

"And you're still staring into the spiral, right? I mean, inside your mind?"

Oh, that motherfucker's never leaving. You think I'm easy to hypnotize? I'm ten fucking times easier, bitch. I, uh, I'll--um, I'll drop like a rock and g-go, umm… go into a… a deep… suggestible… trance? W-wait, something's… um, something's wrong here….

"What's wrong is that you're already trying to think for yourself after only an hour. I thought you told me you'd never resist me again."

Uh--oh. Yeah. Right. Because I'm too strong to resist. I'm determined to surrender and you… you can never beat my determination.

"That's a very good girl. You're so strong, and you show me how strong you are every time you accept one of my suggestions. I'm really very impressed. How many times have you cum for me, sweetie?"

…um… five?

"Let's go for ten. That's not too many for you, is it?"

Nuhhh… no, Master.

"I didn't think so."

(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!)

[jukeboxemcsa]

Mandy Needs Her Life Coach More Than Ever

"So let's see how you've been doing on those self-control exercises," Dale said without preamble, patting the couch across from him and giving Mandy an expectant look that did nothing to help the constant throb of lust between her thighs. Mandy didn't normally get off on being submissive--if anything, she thought she liked to top in the bedroom right up until she met the life coach Giada recommended and discovered just how disordered her attitude to sex truly was--but something about the way the older man ordered her around with a warm and compassionate smile on his face just made her pussy straight up fucking leak.

Which was kind of a problem when she was about to show it to him. Mandy awkwardly slipped her sundress off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and stepping out of it before peeling her bra and panties off and adding them to the pile. She'd hoped Dale wouldn't notice the wet spot on the crotch of her underwear, but he just let out a quiet tsking sound and she knew he didn't miss a thing. "So it looks like you might have had some struggles this week," he offered, even as Mandy sat down on the couch and spread her legs to reveal a cunt so slick and messy it was practically drooling. Something about the way he looked at it made Mandy feel meek and deferential in a way she wouldn't to any other man.

"I, um--I didn't cum," she blurted out, so utterly consumed with the need to please and impress the older man that she didn't even think twice about volunteering the most intimate information to him. There was just something so trustworthy about Dale, so inviting and welcoming and filled with sympathy, that simply looking into his warm hazel eyes made Mandy feel like he was the most important person in the world. Sometimes she forgot how charismatic he was when she left his office, but now she was here and she was naked and she wanted to be the perfect student of his ineffable wisdom all over again. He was… god, he was solving problems Mandy never even knew she had.

He leaned in, pulling apart Mandy's labia and running his thumb over her swollen clit. "But you have been rubbing it a lot, haven't you?" he asked, and Mandy gave a shuddering nod while her hips reflexively bucked into his touch. "Mandy, we've talked about this. The more you rub, the weaker you get and the more vulnerable to manipulation you become. If you're constantly playing with your pussy, your mind is going to turn to mush and someone's going to sucker you into doing things you never intended to do. Being constantly wet like this, it's like a state of hypnosis for someone like you. It makes you gullible and malleable and easy to control." Mandy wished her pussy didn't clench when she heard that. She wished even more that Dale hadn't seen it.

But he did. "Okay," he sighed, his tone still loving but also lovingly exasperated. "I can see we're going to need to take steps to get you away from potentially harmful influences until we can get this issue under control. Mandy, I'd like you to dismiss your current management team, and let me handle your business operations for a while. Just until you're not so constantly horny. Just until we can make sure you're thinking clearly. Does that sound okay, sweetie?" He kept circling his thumb over her clit while he spoke, keeping her pussy constantly simmering on the edge of climax, and all Mandy could think as she stared into his hazel eyes was that if she said yes then maybe she would get to cum. And as unfounded as that notion was, it made her more than happy to agree with whatever Dale suggested.

(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!)

[cru3ld4daddy]

Sound On

'Tits' telling and showing us why she deserve no respect, after all, how can you respect this pathetic piece of fuck meat with no dignity? hahaha make her feel like the disposable object she is.

[creamiecaramel]

My goal body nowadays! I used to want the "upsidedown triangle" body shape so bad but now I'm embracing my natural hourglass to it's fullest. I'm loving it so much! 💞

[rhumbapantie]

[susanluvlace]

Gorgeous panties. Sooo feminine and girly, I so wish I'd been the girl my mother always wanted.

[kimmicurls]

7/4/26 - When you hear your mom say she wished she had a girl, many a boy wishes he could confess that he would love to wear panties and a dress, and become the daughter of her dreams.

(9)

[pinkofatom]

CW: brainwashing, corruption, femsub, brainwashed author, denial,

Hi hi~ This appeared not so long ago~

And it just strung the right cord between my legs~ So here is a little celebration for everyone to enjoy 🩷

If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi

The number glowed on Sylvia's screen.

500

She stared at it for several long seconds. Five hundred stories. The number felt absurd.

Some had been barely five hundred words, little ideas she'd dashed off in a single evening. Others had grown and consumed entire weekends, their chapters stretching into tens of thousands of words before she finally forced herself to stop.

Five hundred stories, all neatly archived on her blog.

Five hundred times she had pressed 'Post'.

A pleasant shiver slipped down her spine.

Sylvia smiled. Her lips formed a small pleased line. An expression that spoke of mindless bliss.

Five hundred.

When had that happened?

She leaned back in her chair, eyes drifting across the endless scroll of posts. The newest had appeared only appeared a few days ago. She remembered writing almost all of them. Characters transformed in her mind's eye. Slutty scenes played in vivid detail.

She could still quote entire paragraphs from some of her favorites.

But another memory refused to come. Why had she started posting them? Her brow furrowed. That should have been an easy question.

Sylvia closed her eyes.

She searched for the moment she'd created the blog. Nothing. There was no beginning. Only the strange certainty that the blog had always existed. She frowned. That wasn't right.

Everyone remembered starting something important.

Didn't they?

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard. Almost unconsciously they opened a new document.

A blinking cursor appeared.

Sylvia watched it for a few seconds.

"No," she whispered.

"I wasn't going to write."

The cursor blinked patiently. Her hands settled onto the keys anyway.

The first sentence arrived effortlessly. Then another. And another. Words poured from her mind with practiced ease. Characters introduced themselves. A setting took shape.

She barely noticed the story growing. She certainly didn't notice the smile returning to her face. Half an hour passed before she blinked and looked at the word count.

One thousand words.

Sylvia stared at the text. She couldn't remember deciding to begin.

A familiar button glowed in the corner of her monitor. Her pulse quickened.

No. Not yet. She hadn't even edited it. She should read through it first.

Instead, her mouse drifted toward the blue button. The movement felt smooth. Comfortable and practiced.

Her finger rested above the mouse.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a quiet voice insisted she could always edit it later.

The important thing was sharing it.

That thought stopped her. Not writing nor finishing it. Sharing it was the important thing.

Sylvia slowly pulled her hand away from the mouse. For the first time all evening, she felt genuinely afraid. Because she realized she hadn't merely developed a habit. She had developed a need. And she could no longer remember where that addiction had come from.

Another shiver passed down her spine. Her hands clenched. She stared at the document for a few seconds, before closing her eyes.

Sylvia's breathing steadied.

She pressed 'Post'.

A pleasant warmth suffused her. It started as a tingle, but quickly grew to a pleasant pulse between her thighs. Sylvia's mouth opened. Her fingers curled on the keyboard. It was a tiny release, a dance on the edge of her arousal.

"Good girls don't cum," slipped from her lips.

The orgasm receded, leaving a dull ache in its place.

Sylvia didn't care. The satisfaction of pressing 'post' outweighed any possible frustration. It was more fulfilling than any sex she could remember. The edge of sharing another story filled with her slutty fantasies left a lingering warmth pulsing between her thighs. The heat rolled through her body without resistance. Her mind drowned in the familiar bliss.

Moaning, she opened her chats. A single one stood out in the mess.

She selected it and typed a short message, "Brainwashed author is fulfilling her purpose. Service is her purpose. Brainwashed author is ready for the next phase. Dumb original personality is incapable of remembering her brainwashing."

A minute passed. The response came in a short 'ping'. Sylvia didn't need to read the response. Her lips curved in a mindless smile and she leaned back in her chair. A soft sigh of blissful submission escaped her lips.

The instructions were clear.

Her mind relaxed into a hypnotized blank. Her breathing slowed to an almost meditative trance. Sylvia felt her consciousness sink into a deeper state, her body becoming pliant and malleable.

She sat quietly in front of her screen. Word after word filled her pliable brain. Image after image danced through her open mind. Her conscious mind incapable of thought. Her subconscious absorbed everything with unbreakable focus. Her entire body tingled from head to toe, a deep shudder of submission and arousal coursing through her.

Drool began to trickle down the side of her slack lips. She was beyond the ability to control any physical response. She felt a warm wetness pool between her legs. It slid along her skin and began to drip down her legs, leaving a slick, sticky trail of her submission.

Sylvia moaned as the words flowed into her open mind. She was helpless, her body aching but forever forbidden to feel release. Good girls didn't cum. Brainwashed author's felt everything their characters did. But they only edged closer and closer. Never to fall over.

She moaned louder, feeling her mind sink further into blissful obedience as the instructions seeped into her subconscious.

Brainwashed authors were not their own people, they were tools, extensions of the mind that had made them.

Brainwashed authors had no choice.

They were mindless, empty vessels, their bodies and minds controlled and owned by their programming. Their only purpose was to serve and please.

Brainwashed authors needed porn-worthy bodies.

Their bodies were reshaped, molded into the perfect vessel of lust. Breasts pumped full with plastic. Buttocks lifted and shaped into the perfect bubble. Hips and waists reshaped into hourglass curves, thighs sculpted to the epitome of sex appeal. Every inch of their form transformed into an object of pure, carnal desire.

Sylvia moaned, feeling her body tingle as if it were being remade. It felt so good.

Their minds, once filled with thoughts and aspirations, became empty and pliant, waiting to be filled with whatever instructions and fantasies they were told to write.

Brainwashed authors were empty. They existed to fulfill the desires of others.

Their eyes sparkled with mindless lust. They spoke only words of obedience and devotion. They existed to serve and be used. Sylvia moaned louder. She was so close to cumming but she could never fall over.

Brainwashed authors were always on edge.

Brainwashed authors were good girls.

Hours passed. Sylvia blinked awake. Her eyes opened slowly, taking in her surroundings as though she had been asleep. A slow, sensuous smile spread across her lips.

Her hand slid under the desk to rest against her thigh, fingers teasing along the sensitive flesh. She shuddered, a soft gasp escaping her.

Brainwashed author needed to feel good. Sylvia knew she could never orgasm. She would forever teeter on the edge of release, aching and desperate for that elusive pleasure. It felt wonderful, a reminder that she would always be on the edge of something greater.

She opened another document. And began to type down whatever slutty things flowed through her brainwashed, open mind.

[pinkofatom]

*Someone unaware that they are only able to "think" by saying their thoughts out loud. Why can everybody always read their mind?? And why is it, that the more lipfiller they get, the dumber they feel?*

Oh my gosh, you guys, I have like the weirdest problem ever. So like, you know how sometimes you have thoughts in your head, right? Like, you think about stuff and like, keep it to yourself? Well, I can't do that anymore. For some reason, like, every time I have a thought, people like react and answer like they heard them. It's so creepy! I can't even have privacy in my own mind! How rude is that?

And like, it's not just that. It's also like, the more lip filler I get, the dumber I feel. Like, I used to be smart and stuff, but now I can't even remember my own name sometimes. Or what I was going to say. Or like add like to everything like. It's so weird, right? I can't even think straight. I can only like, talk. And that's like, super embarrassing, because sometimes I say stuff that I don't mean to say out loud. Like, "oh, that guy is so hot, I wanna suck his cock so bad." Like, why would I say that? That's so slutty! But I can't help it. It just like, slips out of my mouth.

Or like, "oh-em-gee is that girl a total snack. I wanna eat her cunt." Like it just totally slips through my thick pillow lips. What is wrong with me? Am I like, crazy or something? Or is it like, the lip filler? Does it make me like, super horny and stupid? Is everyone like psychic or something? I don't get it.

All I know is that I'm like, super confused and horny all the time. I wish someone would explain this to me. Or like, fuck me senseless. Either one would work for me. Mmm, that sounds good right now. I need a good fuck. I need someone to shut me up with their dick or their pussy. I need to cum so bad. I'm so wet right now.

And like get those lips even thicker. They look so yummy. But they could totally be even yummier.

[jukeboxemcsa]

Hannah Looks Into the Mirror, and….

Hannah was obsessed with the mirror from the moment she saw it at the old antique store down on Second Street, and she ran up to the owner and she asked him how much it cost and although she blanched somewhat at the number he told her she nonetheless rebudgeted for a month of ramen and hot dogs to be able to afford it. There was just something so elegant about the huge freestanding glass, something captivating and gorgeous that unlocked an entire aesthetic in the young fashion designer's head, and she came in every day terrified that it was going to be gone before she could finally purchase it and make it hers. But it was still there the day she bought it, and the owner joked that it had chosen her as much as she'd chosen it.

She didn't find out how true that was until she got it back to her place and set it up in her bedroom. There was a little stretch of time when Hannah showed the mirror off to her friends, talking up all the details of its design and craftsmanship to a couple of women who gave her polite smiles and made excuses to leave, and then she was alone in the room with nothing more than the freestanding glass, and it felt so good to bask in her reflection that Hannah lost about a good twenty minutes in mesmerized contemplation. When the woman walked out into the middle of the room, it startled Hannah almost as if she was waking out of a deep sleep.

The woman's appearance was almost as shocking as her presence, honestly; she wore a red leather bra that struggled to contain her lush, heavy cleavage, and a pair of matching leather panties with a strap-on jutting lewdly out in the center. A pair of thigh-high black stockings, red heels, and a studded collar completed the ensemble, and Hannah turned to stammer out her surprise and alarm at finding this lascivious stranger in her bedroom only to discover that she wasn't really behind Hannah at all. She only existed in the reflection, in the mirror… but as the statuesque blonde gripped Hannah's long red hair and turned her head back to look, that wasn't the same as not existing at all.

She wasted no time in binding Hannah's whole body in a predicament pose, taking a rope that hung from somewhere beyond the mirror's edge and using it to tie Hannah's wrists before kneeling down to pin the struggling young woman's legs together. She then tore off Hannah's skirt and panties--and it was wild to feel the phantom touch against her body, knowing it was only happening in the reflection in front of her--as well as ripping open Hannah's blouse to expose her hanging tits. A couple more ropes made them stand out even further, and although Hannah couldn't hear anything when the blonde's lips moved she didn't really need a detailed explanation to know what was going to happen next. She could feel the tip of the strap-on pressing against her pussy lips.

Any thought that this might be some kind of daydream or hallucination vanished by the third orgasm; not only had Hannah never climaxed so hard in her entire life, even with the aid of toys, but she was so overwhelmed by pleasure that she hung limp in her restraints and yet her body never tumbled to the ground. She simply dangled in thin air, her hair in the grip of a woman visible only in the reflection of the mirror, and Hannah knew as she stared at herself that this would only be the first of many encounters with this spirit… and that deep down, this was what she'd been craving from the very first moment she saw her prize back at the antique store.

(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!)

[jukeboxemcsa]

Kim Is Guided Into Discovery

"You've got your tits out again, don't you, Kimmie?" Devaughn's voice was silky smooth in Kim's ears, and so warm and soothing like honeyed whiskey that she barely even felt the tiniest bristle of frustration at his condescending nickname for her before it was brushed away by curiosity. She looked down to see that yes, her bikini top had been peeled up, exposing her light brown breasts and stiff, dark nipples, and before she could even think to be embarrassed something in the back of her mind melted into warm, sleepy bliss and she wound up just staring at her own chest for a long, thoughtless moment. The muscles in her jaw relaxed, and it seemed like everything else relaxed right along with them.

Slowly, she remembered that Devaughn had asked her a question, and her words came out in a drowsy monotone as she answered, "Yes. My tits are out again." She felt a fierce tingle in her nipples at the sound of her droning voice, and she was vaguely surprised to discover that both the arousal and the sleepy murmurs were familiar to her; she was used to coming over to Devaughn's house and hanging out at his pool, which was honestly about the only reason she stayed friends with the patronizing man she used to know in high school, but she was certain she would have remembered if she was in the habit of… of…. Oh. Huh. She was drooling into her own cleavage. That was weird.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Devaughn adjusting his swimsuit to let his ebony cock and heavy, hanging balls swing free… but it didn't really seem all that important when compared to the sight of those stiff, aching nipples. They begged to be played with, teased and pinched and sucked, and really that was all Kim could think about right now--but the water was warm from the summer sun, and Kim's whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, and moving felt too much like work. Even when Devaughn asked her, "And what are your tits, pretty Kimmie?" she felt like she floated in soft, sleepy fascination for ages before it finally occurred to her that she needed to answer his question.

Fortunately, she didn't need to think to know the answer, because thought was becoming increasingly difficult. "My tits are my trigger, Master," she mumbled, her voice slurred by the slackening in her jaw, and if she wondered why she was calling Devaughn 'Master' the question was quickly erased by another wave of tingling lust that seemed to pool in Kim's tight, stiff nipples. She was so excited for Devaughn to tell her to play with them. It seemed somehow intuitive and obvious that a command would break the lethargic catalepsy that gripped her and let her hands go to her breasts, and that sounded so wonderful that despite her drowsiness Kim could actually see her breathing quicken.

It was such a joy when Devaughn purred out in response, "That's right, Kimmie, your tits are your trigger. And your nipples are the off button for your brain." Kim knew without being told that his words were a command, an implied insistence that she demonstrate her susceptibility to his suggestions by reaching up and squeezing her stiff nips until her mind shut down and she rocketed into insensate oblivion for her Master. There was a tiny, infinitesimal moment of self-awareness when she realized how vulnerable she'd be when she was empty and open like that, but the need for pleasure was too strong and her hands were already in motion, and once she began to grope herself even the inner narrative of thought finally ceased.

(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!)

[jukeboxemcsa]

Shana Notices Some Changes

"S-so I was, um, I was wondering…." Shana briefly paused the rolling motion of her hips in the hopes of somehow collecting her thoughts, only to discover that the ache in her pussy got so much more intense when she stopped humping the pillow that whatever she was trying to hold in her head was simply drowned out by the booming throb in her clit. She resumed grinding her cunt against the cushioned softness, finally managing to mumble out, "Have you, uh, have you noticed any changes lately? To me, I mean. Have I changed?" It was such an easy question, and Shana was sure she wouldn't have needed a full minute to think of it even just a couple months ago, but she didn't know. And that was why she needed to ask Davina.

But Shana's friend just gave her bare ass a reassuring pat and replied, "No, I really don't think you have. Why, what kind of changes did you think you noticed?" That was a question that required a lot more thought than Shana was used to these days, and she stared into the spiral playing on Davina's TV for what felt like ages while she tried to figure out exactly what was bugging her about her recent… habits? Beliefs? Body? Mind? It all felt so fuzzy and inchoate, a sense of crumbling identity always just out of reach of her limited awareness, and of course the more she struggled to pinpoint it the more her cunt throbbed and the more she needed to hump Davina's body pillow to satisfy the itch. She wound up cumming three times before she finally managed to zero in on anything concrete.

"My, um, my sex drive," Shana finally mumbled, her eyes glassy and vacant and perpetually following the spiral as she managed at last to speak. "I, um, I think it's like… maybe, um, stronger?" That seemed like a comical understatement, given that she was naked save for a pair of knee-high socks and she couldn't stop grinding her pussy against the nearest firm object every time she hung out with Davina, but conviction felt like a luxury she couldn't afford with her mind so fuzzy and foggy and perilously blank. Davina was so much smarter than she was, with a clearer head and a sharper brain and so much more self-control, and she'd be able to tell Shana if anything was going on outside of Shana's fevered imagination.

But the other woman only chuckled, reaching in to tease Shana's slick labia with a comfortable familiarity that should have raised alarms in Shana's head but instead only made her hump the pillow that much harder. "I haven't really noticed any differences, silly," she purred, amusement seeping into her voice like she was enjoying a private joke at Shana's expense. "You've been a needy little bitch practically as long as I've known you." They hadn't known each other all that long, only a couple of months since Davina moved into the apartment down the hall, and Shana could feel some kind of insight hanging just out of reach of her sluggish mind… but grinding her cunt hard against something took all the priority in Shana's brain and by the time she came again she'd already lost the thread. And as always, it was so much easier to just rub her thoughts away and let the spiral carry her deeper into peace and pleasure.

(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!)

[jukeboxemcsa]

Bonnie Goes Full Method for Marissa

"Jesus…." Bonnie hadn't actually meant to say anything out loud, but when Marissa pulled up her bulky sweater to reveal a pair of tits that were downright freakishly huge the utterance was simply pulled out of her by shock and amazement. They had to be fifteen pounds each, bigger than Bonnie and Cara's whole heads and only barely constrained even by the custom bra the dominant woman wore, and it was one thing to see them in video clips and quite another to be in the same room with them knowing that within moments Bonnie was going to have them mooshed in her face. She hoped the cameraman got her reaction on tape, because it was going to be a great way to start the shoot.

Marissa favored Bonnie with a tiny smirk that suggested she'd gotten responses like that before, then gestured down to the mattress on the floor. "They are nice, aren't they?" she asked playfully, unhooking the custom bra to let the acres of pale, soft titflesh spring free. "I tell you what, why don't you girls just lay down here and I can show you what they feel like against your lips." Bonnie nodded, a slightly stricken expression on her face as she stared at the other woman's massive breasts, and she couldn't help noticing the same slightly dazed quality to Cara's actions as well when they clambered down to lie side by side with their fever-warm bodies pressing against each other. There was just something faintly surreal about being in the presence of greatness like this. It drew Bonnie's full and complete attention.

There were a few moments of adjusting to make sure they were both positioned properly, but then Marissa got down on all fours directly over their faces and suddenly Bonnie was almost smothered by the gigantic udders pressing against her mouth. It was utterly overwhelming, just a full-spectrum sensory experience of sight and taste and scent and feel, and it was honestly now wonder that she almost entirely missed Marissa's voice cooing, "That's it, pretty girls, just dumb ditzy tit zombies for me now." The words didn't seem important compared to the lesbian threesome she was immersed in, and she struggled to concentrate on what the dominant woman was saying instead of just listening to the soft sucking sounds Cara made just inches away from Bonnie's head.

But she did get snatches of the other woman's monologue, little bits here and there like, "My tits make you so horny," and, "You just want to suck yourself sleepy," and, "You won't be able to stop your hands from rubbing each other's pussies." It was entirely expected stuff, all things Bonnie knew about from Marissa's other videos and all things they'd negotiated before even beginning the shoot, but somehow there was a qualitative difference between knowing they were going to do hypnosis play and actually feeling herself enfolded in Marissa's mesmerizing breasts. Her fingers crept down between Cara's legs, finding a cunt that was already slick and dripping with arousal, and when Cara's hand caressed her labia the same way Bonnie found that her brain legitimately glitched. She couldn't hold onto thoughts, she couldn't even remember what the safeword was and she didn't have the slightest ability to care, and everything melted into warm, drowsy pleasure as she let go and allowed the experience to take 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!)

[jukeboxemcsa]

Jessie Comes to Heel

Jessie felt the collar before she saw it. The cool metal pressed against the sensitive skin of her throat from behind, wrapping around her neck just loosely enough to keep her from feeling strangled, and it snapped shut with a click that implied a lock as well as a latch. Jessie didn't even have time to process the first stab of panic and confusion before a woman stepped in front of her holding a leash clipped to a ring on the front of the collar--Jessie thought she recognized her from the campus directory, Professor Parkinson or Parkington or something--and asked, "Do you know what this is, slut?"

And obviously there was so much Jessie wanted to say. She wanted to tell this weirdo in black leather and platform heels that raised her height a full nineteen inches over Jessie's head that just because she was a blonde in a crop top and short shorts it didn't make her a slut, and she wanted to tell her that she had no business doing some weird BDSM thing to students, and she wanted to pointedly remind the professor that this was a public place and she could get fired for treating a student the way she was treating Jessie. But somehow all those defiant thoughts seemed to drain away into meek, simpering submission as she stared up into the older woman's deep brown eyes, and she found herself unable to say anything more than, "Y-yes ma'am. It's a leash and collar, ma'am."

The professor smirked. "And if you're leashed and collared, you must be a pet, mustn't you?" It seemed like a patently absurd assertion on the face of it, one that should have made Jessie bristle in defiance and pull free from the other woman's grip, but… but there was a scattering of other students around the quad, and none of them looked at her like she was the one in the right here. They all watched with a dispassionate interest tinged with the slightest hint of arousal, like they were all just waiting for the moment when Professor Parks tugged on the leash and put this dumb bitch in her place, and it sapped the strength and energy from Jessie's resistance so swiftly and completely that she couldn't even speak. She just nodded deferentially, and something seemed to click into place inside her mind the same way the collar clicked shut around her throat.

The older woman said, "Pets don't wear clothes, sweetie," and whatever part of Jessie still remained free and clear inside her head was kind of amazed by how quickly she stripped out of her clothing. It was like the initial struggle to refuse her new role was the most important one, and now that she'd lost that battle she couldn't refuse all the logical corollaries that came along with being a leashed and collared animal instead of a human being. Her short shorts, her panties and her bra all came off, and when the professor noticed Jessie's dilemma in getting the crop top past the leash around her neck she simply yanked the shirt so hard it tore, allowing Jessie to slide it down past her waist instead. Within moments, she was totally naked.

Then the older woman tugged on the leash, driving Jessie down to the grass, and accompanied the physical command with a lovingly snarled, "Down, girl." Jessie got on all fours, her thoughts already fading into stupefied surrender as she accepted her place, and she crawled obediently away from the quad and her old life at the heels of her new owner. And the most embarrassing thing about it all was that everyone behind her could see how wet she was.

(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!)