Formerly @maliciousai. Call me Mal. This is (mostly) a personal reblog page. Occasional writer of some kinky fiction. Straight-ish cis male, around 30. Don’t forget to check the likes. This is all fantasy, consent is always mandatory. 18+
Hi! I'm @emctheory, formerly @ maliciousai. You can call me Mal.
I'm around 30, pronouns he/him.
I enjoy erotic mind control in many forms, from hypnosis to transformation to corruption, usually focusing on female subs and subjects (though not exclusively). I write some of my own fiction and hope to write more in the future. Everything pertaining to misogyny, non-consent, and dehumanization/objectification is fantasy and should not be construed as a political or social belief. I make no secret of my distaste for the implications of these themes, nor do I endorse any attempt to bring this fiction into reality.
This blog is fantasy, consent is always mandatory. This blog is 18+ and should not be viewed by minors.
I'm happy to talk, answer questions, and share posts with other kinksters here on tumblr. I don't personally have experience with hypnosis and can't hypnotize anyone, sorry. I'm trying to learn, but that takes trust (and time).
I've written a couple stories inspired by conversations I've had on tumblr, and I'm always looking for more inspiration. I'm not interested in receiving nudes from followers, but if you find a post or story that you think I'd like, please send it my way.
I've done some writing on CHYOA here, as well as some stuff on other platforms I no longer have access to. My tagging is notoriously poor, and I'm hoping to clean it up a bit in the new year. The tag #malwrites should be linked to some of my writing.
The girl in the collar hummed happily as her owner came down her throat. That meant she’d been useful, been good, and that made her even happier then she had been before, and thanks to him she was almost always happy now.
Slurping, head bobbing, she eagerly swallowed it all and then went to work cleaning his cock, just like how she knew she was supposed to: licks and slurps and happy little mumblings. And it was while she was doing this that something caught her attention.
Her owner was watching television. He often did this with her by his feet. It was how he liked to relax, he said. Sometimes she just knelt, awaiting a command, and sometimes she was obeying a command. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t her choice. This time obviously she was obeying a command, and it was thanks to her position between his legs that she could just about see the screen, off to the side.
Normally none of what she saw there made much sense to her and normally it didn’t matter because it wasn’t for her, but something about this caught her attention, which confused her a little bit. It was confusing because she didn’t know why it would have caught her attention. Just something from the corner of her eye had made her look. Then it happened again and, since she was watching properly (mostly properly) she saw why: there was a girl on the screen she recognised.
Or thought she recognised, at least. Something about her was familiar.
Whatever was on the screen was showing clips of this girl, in a costume, flying around a bit, or standing and looking strong and confident. It looked very strange to her, and it didn’t help her understand what about the girl was nagging so much at her.
The chyron running beneath it all read:
“Whatever happened to Justice Girl?”
“Master, do I know her? She feels like… someone…” she said, brow furrowed. Thinking was hard, and remembering was basically like thinking - her owner did both of those for her, which was why she was asking him. She hoped he would make the thinking stop. Her head was starting to throb.
“No,” he said, idly, tapping her on the head to keep her going. She managed one lick before the screen (and the throbbing in her head) distracted her. Such a ditz.
“But she seems familiar…”
Reaching down, her owner put a finger on her chin and tipped her head so she was looking up at him and not at the screen. She didn’t resist. She couldn’t. The moment his eyes met hers the whole world shrank down. There was nothing else. Only him.
“You don’t know her.”
His words filled her head. The throbbing stopped. It was the truth.
“I don’t know her,” she said, dreamily, dumb smile on her face. It was so much easier knowing what she was supposed to think, and so obvious now. Of course she didn’t know her. Master said, and so she didn’t.
“You were always my toy.”
“I was always your toy…”
“You were always my pet.”
“I was always your pet…”
“You were never anything else.”
“I was never anything else…”
Putting a hand on top of her head, he turned it so she was facing the television again. She stared, eyes empty, her face blank, a big dumb smile spread across it. She saw the girl on the screen, the girl who was totally and utterly identical to her, and she felt nothing. Just a stranger.
“Do you know her?” He asked.
“I don’t know her,” she sighed happily. It was the truth.
Her owner smiled and sat back again. It was a lot easier doing that, now.
“Good girl. You can touch yourself.”
Squealing with glee and babbling thanks she very quickly shuffled back on the floor so he would have a better view, spread her legs, and started doing just that, panting and moaning and being totally open and on display for him the way she’d been trained to be, the only way she could even think of being.
On the screen, the news moved onto something else.
So @laurentidal-backup was there in case what happened happened, because I know at one point you were like, if I get nuked I'm not restarting. So when you didn't get nuked, I didn't keep it up to date.
BUT if other readers are more anal meticulous about tagging than I am, and have your stories tagged, I could use the script to go reblog more "lost" stories. With their note counts, of course. I know you love your data.
As fate would have it I updated my spreadsheet like 2 days before the nuke so I have fairly accurate data as it currently stands.
I wouldn't say no 😂 but I don't mind the interim stories being lost media for a bit either. I still have the OG copies saved to my vault and I'll prob post them again little by little like I did the first time
Okay, so my time at the Gilead Hotel wasn’t just research.
Like, I might’ve been more interested in that place if I knew that they were brainwashing girls to fuck for money there. Obviously I’d know that crooked cops were behind the operation. Maybe I even let them catch me. Maybe I wanted to be locked up for hours in their interrogation room, hands cuffed behind my back while they turned my brain to mush with their whole Good Cop/Dom Cop routine.
So, yeah. I know when you see me now, naked and on my knees in a Futurum office with my new boss’ cock down my throat, you’re probably thinking, “This bimbo Tabbie just couldn’t resist joining the mind control company,” right?
Wrong!! This job sucks.
You’d think an office where everybody’s a mindless drone would be my dream job, but the people here are so boring. I’ve been here three weeks and no one’s even tried to fuck me! They just stay in their cubes typing away at their secret projects. No T&A on the copier, no breakroom blowjobs, no sex in the stairwell.
When I introduced myself to my neighbor in the next cube over, he didn’t look away from the screen. I was wearing the tightest little dress on the floor, but he was more interested in his computer!
I said, “Hiya! I’m Tabbie!” Bouncing on my heels as I spoke, once to be seen by him behind the wall, two more times because I liked how it made my tits jiggle.
He replied, “Private designations are discouraged in workplace settings. My Associate Designation is No. 122.”
“Oh,” I said. “Can I call you Gary?”
“That is not advisable,” Gary said.
“Do I get a number too?” I asked.
“All new associates are designated a number during onboarding,” My neighbor on the other side of me said. She was a gorgeous redhead who tried to hide a massive pair of tits beneath a fleece turtleneck. She seemed to share Gary’s passion for talking to computer screens. “My Associate Designation is No. 500.”
“You look like a Josie,” I said. “Have you seen a girl named Corbin around here?”
“If you know the individual’s Associate Designation you may submit a query to the Office of Associate Relations during your scheduled lunch time,” Josie replied.
“You’d know her if you’d seen her,” I said. “Sexy Latina, great eyebrows, incredible taste…”
“Please refrain from further conversation with this associate,” Gary said.
“I have reached my hourly-allotted non-productive conversational capacity,” Josie replied. “If you wish, you may reapproach this topic in twenty-nine minutes.”
I completed onboarding at my desk. The first three modules covered boring stuff like my benefit options, so I skipped to the good one. When I opened the fourth module, I was hit by a blast of light and pulsating colors that made me feel tingly all over. A sexy monotone voice spoke softly through my headphones.
“Bravo. Bandwidth. Sea foam. Carpetbagger. Waiting room. Downtown. Colossus. Mitigate. Theta.” After a brief pause, the voice said, “Repeat your sequence.”
Listen, I’m not perfect. When a mindless whore sees some pretty spirals on her work computer, she can’t resist falling under. My mind was empty by the time the voice commanded me, the sequence absorbed into my brain.
The brainwashing might have been effective on Gary and Josie, but for a cute little freak like me it was just a fun morning distraction from work. I broke free of the conditioning by lunch and after rubbing one out real quick in the bathroom, I turned my attention to my actual job.
When I saw Corbin outside my window at the Gilead, I thought she’d come to rescue me. Of course I had a john with me at the time, but he was nice enough to fuck me by the window so that I could watch the whole thing: Corbin walked casually up to one of the rooms. A woman in a towel appeared when she knocked on the door, and the woman invited her inside. That was interesting to me, because I was not in that room.
Corbin’s vibe was different when she left the room. She marched like a zombie out the door, her face was blank, a look I’ve seen a hundred times in the mirror. As she followed the stranger across the parking lot, I caught a quick flash of something on Corbin’s forehead. Some kind of device?
She climbed into the woman’s car, and they disappeared down the road.
As much as I hated to leave my research unfinished, I had a duty to rescue Corbin or, in failing to do that, join her in sexy submission. The johns weren’t going anywhere.
Futurum’s the only place in Romero where a person can get their hands on something like a mind control chip, so it felt like a good place to start. Unfortunately, I didn’t have to suck any cocks to get a job there, I already knew some people at Carpenter State who were eager to get me into an internship. My plan was to move quickly through the company. This is a secretive place, so I needed as much access as possible to find Corbin.
I didn’t expect work at Futurum to be easy, but I fell behind Gary and Josie quickly. Their eyes fixed to their screens, their fingers click-clacking across their keyboards. Inhuman speed, impossible processing time, no errors. It was a slavish devotion that I’d only seen in the Alphas house, but it was all wasted on work!
The mystery was how Futurum was making people into perfect worker drones. I’d already seen their little onboarding light show, but that wasn’t enough to turn a person into a robot! There had to be something I was missing, a second level to the brainwashing.
After a few weeks, I was exhausted, fed up, even ready to quit, when the breakthrough happened.
It was a look on Josie’s face. A small, nigh imperceptible twitch. Understand, my coworkers are automotons. Any emotion at all is a significant deviation worthy of additional study, but this wasn’t any ordinary facial twitch. It meant that...Josie’s a fucking slut, just like me!
The orgasm was so intensely concentrated that it only registered on the outline of a single muscle beneath Josie’s eye. That it occurred at the same moment that Josie completed a column on her spreadsheet was enough for me to begin formulating a hypothesis.
If sexual stimulation is related to the mental subjugation of Futurum associates, then a third party could use sexual stimulation to control Futurum associates.
Ugh, listen to me, I sound like a fucking nerd. The long story short of it is that Futurum is totally fucking its associates into perfect, mindless worker drones. To see a look of pleasure like that in a place like this…fuck, it made me wet.
Look, something you might not know about me is that I’ve always been an ambitious girl. Understanding how Futurum was brainwashing my coworkers gave me all the tools I needed to exploit it. If Futurum can train its associates to convert cumming into endless productivity, I could take that same energy and turn it toward something else like, say, licking my pussy!
“There is no pleasure in hard work,” I whispered to Josie. “The only pleasure is sex.”
“You don’t need a manager,” I said to Gary. “Let your cock manage you.”
Josie was a surprisingly good pussyeater already. Gary less so, but he didn’t look like the pussyeating type, if you know what I mean. All it took to get them on their knees before me was a few words. But Gary and Josie are just drones. When I turned the conversation back to Corbin, they could only look at me with those blank eyes, begging for more pleasure.
“Unknown Associate Designation…” Josie moaned. Her chin glistened with my juices, one hand kneaded her pink tits while the other viciously rubbed her clit. “This associate is…is just a dumb bimbo…just a dumb bimbo for Supervisor Tabbie…”
Gary furiously stroked his cock next to Josie. He’d been on the edge for minutes, but I wouldn’t let him cum until he gave me a good lead.
“If this associate knows…” Gary sputtered. “If this associate knows where Corbin Arroyo is…Supervisor Tabbie will authorize him to cum?”
I pressed my finger to my chin in playful thought, then I shrugged and said, “I dunno! Once you cum, you’ll be my slave forever. No more deadlines to meet, no more calendars to clean up, no emails to write. It sounds so unproductive. Is that what you want, Gary?”
Gary nodded his head, his strokes growing harder, faster. “Yes, yes, please, yes! Make this associate yours forever! This associate will obey! I....I’ll obey!”
“Okay then!” I chirped. “Where are they hiding Corbin?”
“Futurum!” Gary replied quickly with an optimistic smile. “They’re keeping her right here!”
Stupid drones.
“Fine,” I sighed. “You can cum, Gary. But you have to do it on Josie’s tits.”
“Yes, Supervisor Tabbie,” Josie and Gary replied in unison.
I have to admit, I’ve always been more inclined to submission, but lately I’ve found myself adapting well to the role of a Mistress, I mean, er, Supervisor.
My words passed from cube to cube, rewriting each associate’s company programming with my own. The annoying click-clack of keyboards was replaced with the beautiful music of mindless sex, the Alphas house resurrected in the middle of Futurum’s office.
I had to get creative to stay above the productivity tracking software. I showed a group of associates how to slide the mouse over their clits so that it looked like they were still active on their computers even as they were cumming their brains out.
“Like this, Supervisor Tabbie?” one of the girls on the floor asked, the plastic creaking between her athletic legs.
“Just like that, Griselda!” I encouraged her with a friendly thumbs up.
“Do you assess this associate’s phallus to be appropriately pleasurable, Supervisor Tabbie?” another associate asked me. He had me down on the carpet with my back on top of his keyboard, pounding my body into the keys.
I rolled my eyes and said, “Per my last email, Garrett, it’s called a cock, and I’m like, a total slut for yours.”
Soon the commotion on the office floor was too loud to hide. After all those weeks of hard work, trying to get in front of a manager so I could get some answers about Corbin, it turns out all I had to do was start an orgy.
My boss reminds me a lot of my johns at the Gilead Hotel. Approaching middle age but obsessively fit, he’s tall, handsome, and a little rugged, like a man who models razors. He calls himself no. 66, but I like to think of him as Hank.
To be clear, I already assumed Futurum was developing weapons-grade mind control tech in their secret labs, but I didn’t know that they were testing it on their associates until my interview with Hank. Even though I was wearing the cutest little skirt and my silky blouse was unbuttoned just enough that you could see the outline of my sparkly black bra underneath, Hank never broke eye contact with me. I mean, here’s a guy who is smack-dab in the center of the Tabbie-lusting demographic and he can’t even steal a split second to objectify me?
I’m sure Hank intended to chew me out about the orgy when he called me into his office, but I had a few words of my own for him.
“Your body is a temple built to worship pleasure. Won’t you worship with me?”
See? I told you I had a good reason to be down on this floor. It’s not just because I’m a brainless hypnoslut who’s totally addicted to sucking cock. I’ve already got loads of cum in my tummy already!
“Coo-bin A-woy-O!” I slurp down eight inches of Hank’s cock. He’s as big as I imagined when I first saw those strong, broad shoulders. I am not disappointed.
“This is…counterintuitive…to a productive workspace…” Hank’s Futurum programming is putting up a decent fight against my own.
His cock makes a pop sound as it slips from my wet mouth.
“You want to cum, don’cha, Hank?” I ask. “The emails and the meetings and the projects, they’re all just goals to achieve your next reward. But you don’t need to lock pleasure behind goals when you have a cock this big. You can feel this good whenever you want.”
“Whenever…” Hank repeats.
I slide my tongue over his massive head and I’m about to take him fully back into my mouth when a loud thud makes both of us jump. I turn around to inspect the noise, my hand still stroking Hank’s cock, and I’m greeted by the sight of a pair of tits, attached to a beautiful blonde, pressed against the glass. I called her Lulu when she introduced herself as no. 410, now she’s getting fucked from behind by no. 211, Nick, the IT guy. Her moans seep through the glass. I’m jealous that I’m not that mindless, having all my holes filled by some well-endowed dork.
“Arroyo, Corbin…” Hank reads.
I turn back to look up at him. He’s browsing the Associate Relations site on his monitor.
“Associate Designation…no. 752,” Hank reads back to me. He’s slipped on a pair of reading glasses that make him look like Clark Kent. Fuck, I’m gonna sallow every drop of him. “She’s in Research and Development…security level three. I can…I can take you to her.”
“Yeah?” I say with a little bounce.
“Anything…for you, Mistress Tabbie…” Hank exhales. I swear, I told him to call me Supervisor! “I just…I just need…”
“I know, baby,” I say, my wrist picking up speed. “I’ll let you cum first.”
All the pressure in Hank’s shoulders releases at once, his body sinking into his chair, sinking into me. He closes his eyes and mutters, “I just need need you to repeat…”
“Repeat what?” I smile.
“Bravo…bandwidth..s-sea foam…carpetbagger…”
Fuck.
I want to jump up. I want to clap my hand over his stupid sexy mouth, but my knees are weak from all the fucking.
“Waiting room…downtown…colossus…”
Come on, baby. Think of how good we could have it.
“Mitigate…”
One word left. Hank’s eyes open. They're glassy with tears. They've sure done a number on this old Adonis, but my will is stronger.
I am an Alpha.
“Theta!”
I’m sure there’s a lesson here somewhere.
My vision’s fading now, the world melting into a beautiful kaleidoscopic blur of color. All I can see is the empty bliss of module four, and I gladly let it wash over my mind until my sense of self is inseparable from the colors. I s’pose I’ll break free of this by lunch too. I hope I’ll be hungry then, I’m already so full.
Wait, do you hear that? So far away, but I hear a voice. And I know this is crazy, but it almost sounds like my own…
Innocent girlfriend slowly becoming addicted to being a French maid
Ugh, I can't believe my boyfriend talked me into wearing this outfit. He said it was for a roleplay thing, but I think he just wanted to see me in a skimpy maid costume. I mean, look at this thing! It's so short and tight and revealing. And these fishnet stockings and high heels are killing me. How can anyone move in this?
But I have to admit, it does make me feel kind of curious. I've never worn anything like this before. I dress modestly, I don't show much skin. But this outfit is different. It makes me feel sexy.
I don't know why, but I like the way it hugs my curves. The way it accentuates my breasts and my hips. My legs look longer and smoother. The way it swishes when I walk or bend over. It's kind of fun.
And the way my boyfriend looks at me. Wow. He can't take his eyes off me. He's always staring at my ass or my cleavage. He keeps complimenting me and telling me how hot I am. Qui. He's so hard right now. He's throbbing in his pants. C'est parfait!
I've always been a good girlfriend. I love him so much. I need to make him happy, pas vrai? And wearing this outfit makes me so wet. Maybe I can pretend to be a real French maid for him. Like "Oui, monsieur" or "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" That would be so hot.
I'll even get myself a few more outfits like this. At least one uniform for a day. Je dois nettoyer his cock. À votre service, monsieur. Qui, monsieur.
Mia Madison hadn't grown up in Eros Bay. She'd gone to the city for a vacation and, upon realizing just how hot everybody there was, and the fact that they somehow didn't have a porn studio there, had decided to move there to start up her own studio. She'd been a pornstar long before the move, but now she was running her own studio, Madison Studios.
Of course, she still starred in most of the productions they made at her studio, and she also wanted to personally interview any new potential new porn stars herself.
Today, she was interviewing a girl named Flora. She was in her early twenties, blonde, small tits but not too small. Her ass wasn't bad, either. She didn't exactly have the typical body of a porn star, but you needed variety sometimes. Everybody had different taste, after all.
"Flora, do come in," Mia said, gesturing to the couch. The blonde walked in and sat down. She didn't seem as nervous as Mia had been expecting. Usually the younger girls were incredibly nervous.
"What makes you want to be a porn star?" Mia asked, unsubtly eyeing the young woman up and down.
"My god has plans for this studio," Flora replied, casually.
An eyebrow raised on Mia's face, "Pardon? Your…god?" That was a new one…
"Mhm. Porn works wonders for inspiring animalistic lust in people, and that's what my god wants. That's why I started up this studio," Flora hummed, as she patted the spot next to her on the couch, "Come over here, darling. If you want a job at my studio, I need to inspect what you have to work with."
Mia blinked, suddenly finding herself…confused. Why was she sitting at the desk in the first place? If this was Flora's studio, why would Mia sit behind the desk? After a moment, she got up and moved to sit next to Flora on the couch, "I think you'll find I inspire lust in people very easily. I've got nice big tits and an ass everybody wants. It's why I got into porn almost as soon as I turned eighteen."
"And to think, you're not even a native of Eros Bay…" Flora purred, reaching over to give Mia's ass a nice squeeze, "Yes, I do think you'll do nicely. Anybody that looks at you clearly just sees a sex object, and that's what we need here at Bishop Studios. Women who are good for nothing but being fucked. Empty headed sluts like you."
Mia moaned softly at Flora's touch. She was so glad that Flora thought she'd be a good fit at this studio. She really needed a job, considering she'd just moved to a new city and all. And she was far too dumb to work at most jobs…
"I'm, like, so glad you think I'm a good fit! I'm not good for much more than porn, after all…being such a dumb slut," she giggled.
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you. In fact…" Flora waved her hand on the air, and suddenly had a clipboard in her hand, with some sort of document on it. She handed it to Mia, although Mia had never been too good at reading.
"Sign that and you'll be signing everything you own over to me. That way I can take good care of you. When you're not filming, you can just be my obedient pet. Mimi the fuckpet. How does that sound?" Flora hummed.
"Oh, that sounds perfect!" Mimi grinned, quickly signing the document, before she soon forgot how to even sign her own signature as Flora emptied out more uneeded thoughts from her head. Mimi felt like she used to have a different name, but she couldn't remember it anymore…
"Now get on your knees and eat me out," Flora commanded, both of them being naked with a snap of her fingers. Mimi didn't know how she was doing that, but she didn't particularly care. She happily slid off the couch and started to eat out her owner's pussy.
She couldn't even remember much about her life before meeting her owner anymore…she knew none of that life mattered anymore, anyways.
CW: corruption, brainwashing, mind control, femsub, maledom, slight humiliation, breast expansion, body modification,
If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
Clair couldn't stop smiling.
The expression stretched across her face with effortless ease as she stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, hands smoothing slowly along the curves of her outfit. Soft pink swirls drifted lazily behind her blue eyes, faint reflections twisting in her pupils whenever the light caught them just right.
She looked perfect.
Exactly as ordered.
The corset hugged her waist tightly enough to force her posture into a graceful arch, while the black-and-pink miniskirt barely covered the underline of her butt. Towering heels added several inches to her height and forced every movement into a slow, swaying rhythm she once would have found impossible to walk in. Now they felt natural, necessary really.
Clair tilted her head slightly, admiring the effect.
A warm pulse of bliss spread through her chest.
Good girls obeyed. And she had obeyed beautifully. The thought made her shiver happily.
Ever since the card game, things had become so much simpler.
At first she had thought Tom was joking when he explained the rules. The loser followed the winner's instructions.
Clair had rolled her eyes at the time.
Then she had lost.
The memory drifted through her mind in soft fragments now, Tom's calm smile across the table, the strange deck of glossy pink-backed cards, the warm dizziness that spread through her thoughts after the final hand.
And then the first command.
'Sit.'
She had obeyed before realizing she meant to resist.
After that, each order became easier.
Not because she wanted to listen.
At least, that was what she used to tell herself.
But somewhere along the way resistance had started feeling exhausting while obedience filled her with a warm, floating satisfaction she couldn’t describe without blushing.
'A loser did as she was told.'
The rule echoed softly through her head.
Clair's smile widened faintly as she adjusted one of her gloves.
She remembered fighting harder in the beginning. Trying to argue. Trying to refuse. Every failed attempt only left her flushed, dizzy, and strangely eager to apologize afterward.
Tom had seemed amused by that.
"You look happier when you stop struggling," he had told her once.
The terrifying part was that he had been right.
Clair turned slowly before the mirror, heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. The movement sent another pleasant wave through her body, the corset tightening gently around her ribs as if rewarding her for presenting herself properly.
Her reflection looked different these days. Soft and more tantalizing, no allusions to dominance or independence existed in her presentation.
The old Clair would have been humiliated by the outfit alone. Now the thought of disappointing Tom felt far worse than embarrassment ever could.
A quiet chime suddenly came from her phone resting on the vanity.
Clair's pulse quickened instantly. She already knew who it was. The screen lit up with a single message.
'Good. Now come downstairs.'
A thrill rolled through her so intensely her knees nearly weakened.
Clair bit her lip softly, pink spirals flickering deeper in her eyes.
"Yes, Tom," she whispered automatically.
Then she started towards the stairs.
The house lay quiet and dim around her as she walked slowly down the hallway, heels tapping in a hypnotically steady beat on the polished hardwood floor. Her thoughts remained focused on one thing. Him.
The air felt heavy somehow, charged with a static energy she could sense beneath her skin.
By the time Clair reached the bottom step she could see Tom sitting on the couch waiting for her. His presence sent a shiver through her body.
He sat there. His slight belly bump and his pants bulge were prominent. He was casually watching her as she moved down the steps. The swirling patterns in her eyes caught his attention, causing his own to glimmer with satisfaction.
"Very nice," Tom said softly.
The praise made warmth spread through her cheeks.
"Thank you," she murmured, standing obediently at the edge of the living room. "You wanted to see me, Tom?"
Her owner nodded calmly, a faintly smug expression on his face.
Clair tried to keep her pulse from racing, but she knew her efforts were futile.
Tom's presence made her feel nervous and eager at once.
"Yes," he replied slowly, gesturing for her to come closer with a single lazy motion. "You're such a good girl these days. I think you deserve a reward."
The word sent a shudder through Clair's entire body. She stepped closer hesitantly, hands clasped before her, the soft fabric of her gloves sliding over each other with a tantalizing whisper of texture. Her heart pounded in her chest.
'Horny and compliant. Not at all defiant.' That thought floated in her head as if Tom had put it there himself. And he probably did. After all, it was the truth.
Tom smiled, patting his lap invitingly. The movement drew Clair's gaze involuntarily towards his crotch.
"Sit," he said, tone casual, as if he hadn't just commanded her to do something that made warmth spread through her chest.
Clair felt the spirals in her eyes flickering, and she obeyed.
Her skirt slid up along her thighs as she moved to straddle him, the movement so instinctual it felt natural.
Tom smiled, resting his hands lightly on her waist, pulling her closer against his chest. The touch made Clair shiver, and her hips instinctively rolled against him. The movement was slow and tantalizing, her skirt sliding up even higher.
Tom's smile widened as he watched her squirm, his grip on her hips tightening slightly, holding her in place. His hands felt warm, firm, and comforting through the thin material of her dress. Clair bit her lip softly, her breathing growing shallow and fast.
"That's my loser," Tom whispered in her ear. His breath sent a shiver down her spine, making her gasp quietly. The sensation of his hands sliding slowly up her thighs sent a fresh wave of pleasure through her body.
She couldn't help the small, desperate noise she made at his touch. Tom's chuckle was low and satisfied. He enjoyed watching her writhe, feeling the way she reacted to his touch.
Clair felt her skin flush with heat, her breathing quickening as he teased her gently, running his fingers lightly along the inside of her thigh. She felt exposed and vulnerable.
"What is a loser always thinking," Tom whispered, his voice a gentle hum against her skin.
The spirals in her eyes swam more prominently.
"Horny and compliant. Not at all defiant," she whispered breathlessly, squirming against him, feeling the fabric of his pants brushing against the sensitive skin between her thighs.
Tom chuckled quietly.
"That's right," he said, shifting beneath her so she could feel the bulge of his erection pressing up between her legs.
Clair let out a small whimper at the contact, her hips rolling forward instinctively, seeking more of the delicious pressure.
Tom's hands moved to grasp her hips firmly, stilling her movements for a moment. His voice was low and teasing as he spoke. "And you love losing, don't you loser?"
Clair nodded, biting her lip softly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she leaned into his touch.
Tom chuckled again, his hands sliding up under her skirt to rest on the curves of her ass.
Clair let out a shuddering breath, the spirals in her eyes growing darker and more pronounced. She felt a wave of desire wash over her, leaving her breathless and eager for his touch.
"So if I told you we'd play a game, where the first one to cum loses and becomes even more of a slave to the winner, what would you say?"
Clair bit her lip softly, the spirals in her eyes growing deeper, more pronounced. She felt her cheeks flush with heat, and her pulse raced at the thought. "I would say that's a fun game," she whispered, leaning forward slightly, her breasts pressing against Tom's chest as she moved to kiss him softly.
Tom returned the kiss, deepening it, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her shiver with desire. His hands moved to cup her ass firmly, squeezing gently, drawing a small moan from her lips. She felt his cock twitch beneath her, and she couldn't help but grind down against him, desperate for more contact.
"Good," he breathed against her mouth. "Then let's play a simple game, Clair. I tease you and play with you, while you grind and moan. The first one to cum loses. Cumming is when your pussy squirts and you orgasm. I can't cum of course. Even if I blow a load all over you. It's me ejaculating. Only losers cum," he teased, smiling smugly as he rolled his hips upward, pressing against her.
The fabric of his pants rubbed tantalizingly against her pussy, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. Clair let out a small moan, feeling her arousal grow, the warmth between her legs spreading as she ground against him.
She wanted him. Needed him. The thought of losing to him again, becoming his slave even more than she was now, filled her with ecstasy.
Tom's fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass as he guided her movements, his other hand slipping beneath her dress to caress her breast, rolling a hardening nipple between his thumb and finger. The touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.
"You want me," Tom whispered in her ear. His hot breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine. "Admit it. Admit you want me to make you cum. You want me to make you mine even more. Say it, and I might give it to you. Tell me how badly you want me."
Clair let out a shaky moan, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensations of his touch. "I want you," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whimper.
"You want me, what?"
"I want you to make me cum. To own me. I want you."
Tom grinned, pulling her down onto him harder, grinding his erection against her clit through the fabric of her panties. "Say 'I'm a loser. A cum slut. A dirty whore who just loves to cum, loves to lose to Tom.'"
Clair's face burned with embarrassment and desire. Her pussy clenched and throbbed as the words tumbled from her lips, unbidden, the spiral in her eyes swirling darkly. "I'm a loser," she panted. "A cum slut. A dirty whore who just loves to cum, who loves to lose to Tom."
"Such a good loser," Tom cooed, his hand slipping beneath her panties to rub at her clit.
Clair moaned, bucking her hips against his touch. Her pussy clenched as he worked her clit expertly, her breath coming in short gasps.
"Are you going to cum for me?" Tom whispered in her ear.
She nodded, unable to form words, her eyes closed tight in pleasure.
Tom chuckled, rubbing faster and harder, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. She was close, so close.
But then he stopped, pulling away and leaving her panting and desperate on the edge of her climax.
"Go on. Jump over the edge loser," Tom whispered, smirking as he watched her writhe on top of him, her body still trembling with unfulfilled need. "Cum. You can do that yourself. Just a bit of friction, and your pussy will squirt for your master."
She whined softly, grinding down against him, trying to get enough stimulation to push herself over the edge.
Tom laughed again. His hand came up to grip her chin firmly, forcing her to look him in the eyes.
Clair's gaze met his and the spirals in her eyes swam lazily.
"You want me," Tom whispered seductively, "don't you, my loser?"
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she nodded, her hips still grinding desperately against him. She wanted him, needed him to make her cum, needed him to own her completely, needed to be his loser once again.
Tom leaned in, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. He slipped his tongue past her parted lips and she moaned into his mouth, grinding against him more desperately than ever.
Finally, finally, the pressure building in her core exploded and she came hard, squirting all over his pants. Her eyes opened as the pink swirls consumed them. She panted and gasped as pleasure wracked her body, her pussy clenching around nothing as she came harder than she'd ever cum before.
Tom laughed as she shuddered through the aftershocks of her orgasm. He held her close until she stopped shaking, then he gently pushed her away so he could look at her face again. His pants were drenched in her juices and he was grinning widely at her dazed expression.
"That's my loser. And now I don't just own your obedience. But also your body. And Clair, I like you, really, but that body needs to be more sexy."
Clair's head was spinning. Her mind was hazy and clouded with pleasure, and she could barely focus on Tom's words.
He smiled, his gaze roaming over her body appreciatively as if seeing it for the first time. "I want something more curvaceous. Big boobs, wide hips, bubble butt. I'll make it easy for you." His eyes locked with hers and the pink spirals swirling behind them glowed brighter.
She felt the weight on her chest grow. She moaned and gasped, the sudden sensation of heaviness and pressure making her dizzy and light headed. Tom laughed softly, and he reached up to cup one of her growing tits. He squeezed it experimentally, and she let out a loud moan as it swelled even larger.
She panted, and her hips and butt began to swell and expand. It was a slow, almost hypnotic process, and she found herself moaning and panting, her voice growing softer and softer, more sensual and submissive. Her eyes were half lidded and her lips were parted as she stared at him in a daze.
"That's more like it. Next your voice and vocabulary. I want you to sound like a hot MILF," Tom said.
Clair nodded obediently. She felt a strange tingle in her throat and she swallowed. She could feel her vocal chords changing and rearranging themselves.
When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice had changed to a seductive, mature sound.
"Yes," Clair breathed out. "Yes, dear. Thank you for changing my voice." She looked down at her boobs and her hips and ass and licked her lips. "And changing my body. Now I'm more of a MILF. I love you." She looked at Tom and smiled happily.
Tom grinned and reached over to pull Clair close. He leaned in and kissed her deeply. Clair sighed softly into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed. They stayed that way for a while until Tom broke away.
"Good loser," Tom whispered in Clair's ear. "Now, get back up, into your room. You will find a different outfit there. Put it on and wait until I call you for another game." He winked and slapped Clair on the butt. She squeaked and jumped.
Clair's pussy throbbed and ached with desire as she got to her feet, and she shuddered with pleasure as her clit brushed against her panties as she stood. She couldn't wait to lose more.
story request: a girl who keeps trying to leave her boyfriend has second thoughts whenever he shows her his cock
A Reason to Stay
The third time I packed my bags, I thought this would be the last. Mark had screamed at me again, called me worthless when I burned the chicken slightly. I stood in our bedroom, tears streaming down my face as I folded clothes into my suitcase. My hands shook with determination. This time, I told myself, I'm really leaving.
"Where do you think you're going?" His voice came from the doorway, low and dangerous.
I didn't turn around. "I'm done, Mark. I can't do this anymore."
I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, the zipper of his jeans sliding down. My heart raced faster, but not with fear. Something else stirred inside me, something I couldn't name.
"Look at me," he commanded.
I turned slowly, my eyes catching on what he'd exposed. His cock hung there, thick and beautiful, the tip already glistening. Something inside me shifted, like a switch being flipped. My resolve began to dissolve.
"You don't really want to leave, do you?" he asked, stepping closer.
My mouth watered. My suitcase suddenly seemed miles away, unimportant. "I... I do." Even my voice seemed weaker. Doubtful. Hesitant. "I want to leave."
"But you won't," he said knowingly. "Come here."
My feet moved before my brain could protest. I sank to my knees before him, my hands reaching out to wrap around his length. It felt perfect in my grasp, warm and alive. When had I become so obsessed with his cock? I couldn't remember, but it didn't matter.
"You see?" he murmured, threading his fingers through my hair. "This is where you belong."
I leaned forward, my tongue darting out to taste his tip. Salty, perfect. My body hummed with pleasure, with purpose. All my anger and hurt were so much duller and unimportant, replaced by an overwhelming need to please him, to worship this beautiful part of him.
"Maybe I can stay a little longer," I whispered against his skin, lips parting to engulf his length.
He chuckled, tightening his grip on my hair. "That's my girl."
The next morning, I woke with a sense of profound shame. How could I have given in so easily? I slipped out of bed while Mark slept, grabbing the already-packed suitcase from the closet. But as I turned to leave, my heel caught the corner of the sheet, pulling it down as I took a step.
Down, down, down... until he was exposed again there asleep on the bed. And as I turned to free my heel from its snare, my eyes again fixed on his cock. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear the soft and steady tick of a metronome. I could taste him cum in my empty mouth, and I wasn't sure if it was still there from last night or if it was a far off memory. I could feel his hands on the back of my head as I bobbed up and down on it. His hands on my tits and I bounced up and down on it. His hands on my hips as he fucked it deeper and deeper into which ever hole he decided he wanted.
I could hear my own voice muttering. "Yes, Master." Repeated over and over. Soft and steady like the tick tick ticking, still unsure if it was happening now or in a dream that might have been a memory.
"You're so much better when you're like this," he said, obviously now awake.
The chanting was interrupted by the low moan I let out as my fixation started to twitch and stiffen. I didn't stop to realize that meant it had been me all along. All I knew was that he was right. I was better like this. Happier.
Time would pass and something would throw me again into a state where I knew I had to leave, but I somehow always found a reason to stay between his legs. He'd stop me at the door, cock poking out from his underwear, or he'd find me packing and pull off his pants like he did that night.
Once I managed to make it as far as the state line in the dead of night, when my phone buzzed and the image of him hard and leaking appeared on my screen. The car seemed to turn itself around right there on the highway, and before I knew it I was back on my knees with his fingers in my hair.
"You'll never leave me," he would say as I swallowed his seed. "You can never be without this."
"I know," I'd admit. "I'm helpless."
"And that's just the way I want you. Helpless and hypnotized."
He reached over to the bedside table and I heard the ticking begin. I let my world swirl away into the darkness.
"I am helpless and hypnotized," a voice like mine said from somewhere far above me. "I am helpless and hypnotized."
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The video showed another room in the same hotel, although that didn't exactly help much--it wasn't like Sara could go knocking on door after door, demanding to see her friend, and this certainly wasn't something she could show to the management even if she thought they could help. They'd probably wind up kicking her out along with her friend and… and whoever had done this to her, whatever 'this' turned out to actually be, assuming it actually was anything which it might not be despite all the instincts in Sara's body screaming that it definitely was and she needed to find Amber before Amber spontaneously decided she never wanted to be found again.
Because Amber was… fuck, there was no nice way to put it. Amber was weak. She was vulnerable in a way that Sara simply wasn't--yes, the details of the fun little trance the street hypnotist put them into earlier were fuzzy for Sara, too, but when she found herself experiencing a sudden urge to wander off into the back alleys of Madrid she sat down hard in the nearest chair and focused on the unexplained impulse until she was able to lock it down and push it away. While Amber just drifted out of view while Sara had her eyes closed, and judging by the video she sent she was totally lost in whatever spell the charismatic young man had cast on her. Amber's hazel eyes were wide and gleaming with saccharine bliss, and she didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with a stranger using her mouth as a fleshlight.
God, if only Sara could remember what he looked like. She could go to the police if she remembered that much, give them a description and tell them she was worried about her friend, and if they eventually found Amber and she gave them some pat and rehearsed answer then at least Sara would know where she was. All she had to go on now was the suspicion that they'd doubled back to this hotel after the man reclaimed his victim's mind, along with a brief clip of Amber lying on the bed with her head hanging over the edge and giggling, "Love you, Sara!" before a stiff prick went straight down her throat without even the slightest bit of resistance. And the odds that anyone could identify this guy just from his cock and balls was slim to none.
Frankly, Sara didn't even know why he let Amber send it. Was it some kind of taunt, perhaps? Something to let her know that her friend was lost in the throes of smiling, blissful obedience and her mouth was going to be this stranger's personal fuckhole for as long as he felt like using it? Or was this intended to be some kind of bizarre, misplaced kind of reassurance, letting Sara know that even though Amber was being turned into a blowjob puppet for a man she'd barely even met she was still happy and excited and eager for more? Sara didn't know, and so she watched the video again and again with a deepening sense of defeated helplessness… and she didn't even notice her own hand creeping lazily down between her thighs to rub herself until the intermingled mix of lust and half-remembered trance prompted her to finally ask for the room number.
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It was with a maliciously simple motivation that Melinda decided to hypnotize and brainwash and fully subjugate her roommate's consciousness--she liked making out with her boyfriend, but Braeden got hard and horny so quickly that he was never in the mood for any kind of real foreplay. And Braeden was so stubborn and strong-willed that it was literally easier to trick Stephanie into following the motion of a swinging pendant and lull her mind into a deep trance than it was to get Melinda's lover to wait five goddamn minutes to get his dick sucked. Melinda felt a tiny bit guilty about that, naturally, but the guilt always went away when she and Braeden started kissing to the tune of Braeden's cock going in and out of Steph's accommodating throat.
It wasn't like it did any harm or anything--Steph had her HPV shots, and her natural susceptibility to suggestions meant that she didn't even remember getting used like a fleshlight to get that first climax out of the way so that Braeden could calm down a little and pay attention to pleasuring his lover. Stephanie usually got him off within about ten minutes while Melinda and Braeden were indulging in some heavy petting on the couch, and then she just knelt there idly masturbating for the rest of the evening, and anyway it wasn't like she had much of a social life she was being deprived of in the first place. She was kind of a third wheel around the apartment ever since Melinda and Braeden started dating, and this just made it easier. Honestly, Melinda was kind of doing Steph a favor.
Several favors, when Melinda really thought about it. She was training Stephanie's throat, which was going to make both her and some future boyfriend very happy--already the occasional coughs and splutters had smoothed out into a steady 'gluk gluk gluk' the whole blowjob long, even after only a couple of weeks of training, and Steph's suckdoll persona swallowed Braeden's biggest loads without spilling a drop. And she was helping to drain all that sexual tension Stephanie was carrying around with her all the time; the first time Melinda hypnotized her, Stephanie drowsily confessed that she had never so much as played with herself before. Cumming her brains out to a hot sex show was helping her feel less stressed everywhere else in her life.
And if all that wasn't enough, well… not that women needed to be hetero-flexible these days to keep a guy happy, or anything, but it always helped get that last little oomph out of a man's cock if you were willing to do a threesome, and Melinda was making sure that Stephanie had that extra little kink in her sexuality to make her the perfect girlfriend for some future lover. When Steph licked the jizz out of Melinda's pussy and it suddenly made an exhausted Braeden decide he could go one more round, Melinda felt the satisfaction of a job well done along with the massive climax she got out of totally controlling her roommate's hypnotized brain, and that last deep-dicking was the best part of the whole night. And certainly Stephanie wasn't complaining, not with her head so blissfully empty and her cunt so overwhelmed with ecstasy. It was a win-win situation, really… even if Melinda was doing most of the winning these days.
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Is it one's memory? The young woman in front of you, heaving in heat and desperate for your touch, had memories - a lifetime of them - but they had receded from her mind as her body had transformed from a middle-aged housewife to a ravishing and desperately horny twenty-something. She couldn't even remember her name, which you remembered was Gloria but she seemed to think was Addison. You were nobody to tell her otherwise.
Is it one's relationships? Those had eroded away, even the ones most important to her. She had been somebody's mother once - your mother, not that you would be telling anybody. As the changes began to take hold, however, the people in her life seemed to forget that she had ever been in it. Her former husband, your other siblings, they moved on with their lives as if she had never been in it. All the more convenient for you.
Is it contained in the body? That had certainly changed, to the point of being unrecognizable. The wrinkles around her eyes softened, her gray hairs receded and finally disappeared, her features rearranged to become symmetrical, as if designed by a painter with taste and skill. Her breasts began to fill up and regain their youthful perkiness, her waist tucked in as her hips expanded, her buttocks became firm and plump. Over the course of a few weeks, her body inside and out had receded in form and function. You had never seen her so desperately in heat, so easily aroused, so constantly wet, so often. But now it was normal.
No, the woman before you was a completely different person than who your mom used to be. You might as well have seduced a stranger.
And when your hot young girlfriend begged for you to finally take her, as you slid her clothes off and held the back of her head as she breathed heavy amorous heat, all these questions begged a final one: was this incest, what you were doing?
Ah, you liked to get philosophical right before you gave yourself to a lover. Some questions can't be answered.
