English fella in his early 40's with some mind control based kinks - I write stories & captions and things & I have a couple of things on http://mcstories.com/Authors/Hypsan.html - likely NSFW...
Might be looking to need some extra income in the next few weeks/months. Would there be any interest in people commissioning longer stories for a price?
She felt so needy. She hadnât fucked a guy for an hour. Jesus, when did that become a thing. Sex didnât used to be a big deal for her. She had even gone to therapy to resolve her low libido. Hypnotherapy. That had been her mistake. She knew that now. Not that knowing it helped her.
After one session she had felt like her libido had gone up 100% so she went back. Again and again. Each time she found her arousal increasing but she couldnât ever seem to orgasm. On her own, with any of the guys she dated, even on the one occasion she experimented with another woman. After 3 months she asked her therapist about it. He smiled and said there was something they could do about that.
The next session they had she came harder then she had ever done in her life. She went back every week after that. It became habitual. He took her deeper and deeper into trance every time, consistently telling her how her arousal was connected to his voice, how his voice had allowed her to find her libido, how his voice allowed her to cum. Only his voice. It got to the point where she would cum whenever he told her to, only when he told her to. He wouldnât even need to trance her. Just saying a word took her from zero to orgasm in seconds.
Then he stopped letting her orgasm and her life changed. Suddenly it wasnât enough to pay for a session in order to be rewarded with an orgasm. She had to let him touch her whilst she was in trance. To play with her body while he conditioned her to respond his touch. To his commands. After a while she found herself following his commands even when not in a trance. Feeling a surge of arousal when she knelt at his command. Heating up when he told her to open her mouth. Bringing herself almost to orgasm in response to being told to suck his cock. Her association with cumming was now completely tied to her obedience to his commands, and all of his commands were sexual.
She tried not to go back so many times. She told herself it was better to live a life without orgasms then to be used as a sexual object in this way. But it never lasted long. After a day or so she would be crawling the walls, her phone would ring and she would be on her knees obediently sucking his cock within the hour.
She gave up resisting after a while, resigned to her fate. He seemed to sense her resignation, which had led to the call this morning. The one telling her to buy the clothes she was wearing. To put them on in the shop and bin her other clothes. She was going to be a hooker, he had told her. A streetwalking whore for him. She wouldnât be allowed to cum until she brought him her earnings from a nightâs work. She had shivered at the thought. Firstly with revulsion, and then to her shame with arousal as she imagined herself being fucked by a stranger for money. It had been a year since her first session and in that time he had broken her. Taking her through increasingly desperate cycles of need to the point where she was about to sell her body for money, and feeling so incredibly aroused by the thought of it.
She had fucked 3 guys since then. 3 strangers. She felt her conditioning strengthen after each one and she realised her need had been programmed to increase with each customer. She knew she should have fought harder. She knew what she was being made to do wasnât right. And yet all she had said to him on that call this morning, before she went out to follow his commands was âYes Sir.â
"How do you feel watching your best friend being conditioned Slave?" He asked, watching her play with herself uncontrollably.
"Wonderful Sir. It makes me so horny to know I betrayed her at your command. Part of me tried so hard to resist. l love Lisa for who she is, and I know you will turn her into something she would hate, but it was just so hot knowing that you said I could be the one to help with her pleasure conditioning. That when she was under your control you would let me play with her. I didn't even like girls before Sir, but now the idea of fucking Lisa for your entertainment makes me so fucking wet. Please Sir, can I eat her out whilst the file melts her brain?"
"I see you've finally watched the new corporate training videos," he said.
"Yes, sir," she purred in response. "They were very educational."
The signs were easy to spot in most of the girls even without talking to them. The makeup, the clothes, the distinct lack of a bra. And in her particular case, the pretty smile that replaced the permanent scowl she normally wore whenever they talked.
"Get your tits out."
He spoke as if he was asking her to hand him some paperwork but her response was immediate, ripping her blouse open without hesitation.
"I've always wanted to get a closer look at those," he said with a smirk. "I think it would improve morale if they were bigger though."
She nodded, grinning. "Yes, sir. Anything for the company, sir."
"Good girl. And speaking of your newfound devotion, you'll need to stay late tonight. Will that be a problem?"
"Not at all, sir," she said. "I broke up with my boyfriend after watching the first training video."
With that, he simply pushed back his chair and pointed. His former boss sank to her hands and knees, tits swaying gently as she crawled to her new duties.
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 couldnât 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.
*A guy who went to a hypnosis show was left with a suggestion that he couldn't resist transforming himself into a bimbo is at a hypnotherapist asking her to remove the suggestion*
Okay, so I went to this hypnosis show last week and it was pretty cool. The guy on stage made some people do funny stuff, like cluck like chickens or forget their own names. But then he said he had a special trick for the last volunteer. He said he was gonna plant a secret suggestion in her mind that would make her life more interesting. And I was like, yeah right, as if. But then he snapped his fingers and she woke up and acted totally normal. So I figured it was all fake.
Until the next morning. I woke up feeling weird. Like, really horny and girly. And I had this urge to dress up in my girlfriend's clothes and put on makeup. I tried to resist, but I couldn't. It was like my body had a mind of its own. And when I looked in the mirror, I didn't see myself. I saw a blonde bimbo with big tits and a bubble butt. And she was hot as fuck.
I freaked out and called my girlfriend, but she just laughed and said I looked cute. She even helped me pick out an outfit and gave me a kiss. Then she left for work and told me to have fun. Fun? How could I have fun when I was turning into a bimbo against my will?
I spent the whole day trying to figure out what to do. I couldn't go out in public like this. Luckily the urge grew weaker over time. But I had to get rid of this. I knew I had to find that hypnotist and make him undo whatever he did to me. But he was gone. He left no contact info or anything. So I did the next best thing: I looked up a hypnotherapist online and booked an appointment.
That's why I'm here now, sitting in this comfy chair across from this gorgeous woman. She has long, dark hair, green eyes, and a smile that could melt ice. She's wearing a black blouse that shows off her cleavage and a tight skirt that hugs her curves. I feel jealous. I want to look like her. And I know that isn't supposed to be me. I need to get her to help me. I explain what happened to her, trying not to sound crazy.
She listens patiently, nodding and humming. She tells me to lay down and to breathe in deeply. She tells me that she's going to help me access my subconscious mind and find what has changed. She tells me to trust her and relax.
Then she pulls out a pocket watch and starts swinging it in front of my eyes. She tells me to follow it with my gaze and let go of all tension. She speaks in a soft, soothing voice that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. She says I'm going deeper and deeper.
But something's wrong. Instead of feeling more in control of my mind. Her words are filling my head and pushing out everything else.
When I wake up again I feel like soo good. I sit up and stretch, feeling my big tits bounce. I look at the hypnotherapist and giggle. She's not just gorgeous, she's sexy as hell. I wanna kiss her and lick her and fuck her.
With a loud snap the sensation disappears. My chest is small again. My body less pronounced. But it felt good. I wanted it again.
I blush and apologize, but she just smiles and tells me it's okay. She says she sees what the problem is and she can fix it.
She snaps again. And like I totes feel like the best! My nipples are like so hard and poke right through my thin tight shirt. I giggle and play with them.
She tells me that I need to get a boob job and some boring surgery. But then I can be my totally bimbo like self always. Like, omg that would be so cool!
I agree and thank her profusely. I hug her and kiss her on the lips, tasting her cherry lip gloss. She hugs me back and squeezes my ass, making me moan.
She tells me to come back soon and we can have more fun together. She whispers in my ear that she loves fucking bimbos like me and that she can't wait to see my new body.
I squeal and run out of her office.
Ready to tell my girlfriend about the super session I forgot~
From the moment she arrived at the Hotel Dupin, the woman drew stares. She carried herself with a quiet elegance that bespoke a lifetime in high society. So, though she went largely unrecognized, the staff and other guests treated her as though she were a famous celebrity. They did as she asked with little to no complaint, no matter how odd the requests were.
But she was never cruel in the way that people can be after a life of being told "yes". She was soft-spoken and kind. She never blustered or caused a scene. She never needed to. The air around her just seemed to bend to her will.
So on her third night, when she called down to the front desk and asked for a meal to be sent to her room, the clerk eagerly agreed. It was just a little before midnight and the kitchen was dark, but he would be sure that Madam Delacroix got what she wanted. He ventured out onto the dark street in search of a restaurant still open, and thirty minutes later he was knocking on her door.
She didn't answer. Nor on the second knock.
The clerk thought that perhaps she'd fallen asleep or was showering and decided to let himself in and leave the food for when she was ready.
He found her sitting upright in her bed. The television was on and broadcasting some kind of pattern. It was spinning and flashing and making a low hum he found slightly disorienting. She was sat stone still and staring at it, a soft smile on her face.
"Madam Delacroix," he said, tentatively.
"Yes," she answered in a far off voice. "I can hear you, Master."
He swallowed hard, confused and more than a little aroused at the sight. She wasn't completely undressed, but certainly unfit for the public and unfit for a guest. Still the shape of her body was so enticing, the clerk dare not waste such an opportunity.
"What's happened, Madam?" he asked her, closing the door to the hall as quietly as he could.
"It is midnight, Master." Her voice was flat. Devoid of emotion. "I must watch the spiral each midnight as commanded. I must retrain myself as your slave."
The video feed ended abruptly and she blinked. Life returned to her and the odd smile faded. She turned to look at the clerk and seemed to have no idea they'd already spoken.
"Ah, you managed to find me something! I'm so grateful." She handed him a small wad of money. "Thank you so much."
The clerk nodded dumbly and turned to leave. And when he returned to the desk he called the girl working the next night shift and told her to take off. He'd be covering nights until Madam Delacroix checked out. He was very eager to find out the meaning of the word "slave."
Try not to follow my words.
You may find that following my words knowing you will follow my words makes it easier to more obedient.
Are you feeling submissive & suggestable right now? Dont think about being horny.
I might count down from 10, and you might associate that with an increase in arousal with each number, but try not to think about the fact that with every number you read your heart beats a little faster and sends blood rushing to your pussy.
9
Making it swollen and sensitive and engorged. Just like a cock engorges. But you must not think about cock. That would make your mouth water wouldnât it?
8
Which would remind you that you are a slutty girl whose mouth waters at the thought of cock. Is your mouth watering girl? Dont think about how arousing it is to know you are that kind of girl.
7
Good Girl. How does it feel to know that I can make you horny with just a few words? Does it make you think about the numbers? Are you wondering what happens when you reach zero?
6
Try not to think about that girl. Focus on something else. Like how you pussy throbs every time you see another number, and what effect that might have in conditioning you to respond to commands.
5
Good girl - your brain is probably struggling to cope with thinking about the things I am telling you not to think about.
4
I know you are a good girl and you want to do as you are told, but your body wonât stop reacting to my words and thinking the things I am telling it not to think.
3
Try not to think about that or how horny it makes you to think what I have told you to not to think whilst knowing that I want you to think what I am telling you not to think. Sometimes the mind just give up and turns up the arousal doesnât it? Did you feel that pleasure surge?
2
Are you thinking about playing with yourself? I told you not to think about that didnât I? Or did I? Itâs so difficult to think when you are so horny isnât it? Maybe you should just stop thinking so I can tell you what to do just STOP.
1
Good girl. Reblog âCanât think, must obeyâ and then you can play.
You may find your mind may start coming back to you after a minute or two or you may be stuck playing for the rest of the dayâŠ
She was a little confused. She was all about female empowerment. She ran workshops for companies who wanted to educate their staff about unconscious gender bias. Educating men to understand the unique value that women bring to the table and educating women as to the reasons why men think and behave as they do. Helping remove the structural obstacles to gender equality and change the kind of behaviour where women trade being seen as likeable for being regarded as competent.
Then she had met him and she had found herself acting differently. Nothing major. Her heels got a little higher and her outfits more feminine. Not that she hadnât been feminine before, but she hadnât worn pants in weeks. Or panties for that matter. They had sex all the time, which was normal for a new relationship, but she found herself deferring to him much more then any other relationship she had ever had.
First in the bedroom and then in more and more things. And not because he demanded it of her. He just quietly and confidently made suggestions which she found herself wanting to follow. He was kind and patient and intelligent and yet somehow commanding in the way that he positioned things with her.
He supported her work completely. He had been on feminist rallies and helped run gender equality events in the community before he had known her. Itâs how she had met him. And it wasnât like he dominated her. Not really. She just liked doing things to please him. When he made a decision, it wasnât about imposing his will, it was about taking care of her. She found she liked being taken care of. It made her feel safe. And aroused. That was OK wasnât it? It wasnât like he objectified her.
She was sparked from her reverie but his hand grabbing her arse. It surprised her, and when she turned to see his confident, grinning face she blushed. Ok so maybe he did objectify her a little. But maybe she liked that. And maybe that was OK too.
âPlease Mistress, donât take him away from me. I love him him.â She pleaded. Her Mistress looked unimpressed. âHe is a toy. As are you. When I am done with you, there will not be any room in your head for anyone but me. Now, return to your room, and continue your training with the obedience mantras I gave you. I am going to play with my new toyâ she said turning to kiss her slaves former boyfriend.
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