[lovely---sage]

Welcome to the circus

21+ only minors DNI, if I catch you it's on sight so fuck off

Ageless and blank blogs get blocked

I lurk I reblog I post, I respond when/if I want 🤷‍♀️

You can also tip me on cashapp $lovelyyysage (please label GAS or FOOD or GROCERIES so I dont get flagged)

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Angie Has Her Forever Moment

There's a moment, right before she comes, when Angie can see the shape of the future closing in around her. It's when Kelly kisses her neck and rubs hard right over Angie's clit, and suddenly she can't hold her head up anymore and she can feel drool spilling onto her chest and her eyes roll back until only the whites are showing. She heard herself sigh out, "oh godddd," her voice a toneless drone of blank, mindless ecstasy, and that's when she knows she's only ever going to become more submissive and tame and obedient to the woman playing with her cunt. This is the most power she's ever going to have in their particular dynamic, not because Angie's feeling especially assertive but because she can already tell it's all going to go downhill from here, and everything in her mind is leading her to deeper surrender.

She can't even say she doesn't want that. She's already gone this far, after all, and Kelly's a sweet and kind and loving dominant even if she does keep winding the leash tighter and tighter until Angie doesn't know what it's like to think for herself in the bedroom anymore. There's something kind of comforting about the knowledge that she's only going to keep getting weaker, her craving to be owned is only going to become more overwhelming, and eventually she'll just reach a point where all Kelly has to do is pat the mattress in front of her and Angie will just plant herself down in the training position and spread her legs to be used. Whatever quaint little domestic spats they have will be settled by a single inarguable truth--Kelly's always right, Kelly always wins--and Angie's going to be… happy. So happy.

It's not a bad vision at all, but there is a kind of quiet resignation to it that comes with saying goodbye. In that last little moment as Angie tips over into climax, her cunt making a wrinkled mess of Kelly's fingertips and her head lolling forward in boneless indolence, Angie knows she's been thoroughly defeated without ever putting up a real struggle--what started as a playful fetish has become more and more real and potent and powerful, and she passed the point of no return without ever really even realizing she was coming up on it. Kelly hasn't suggested they move in together yet, she hasn't offered a formal collaring or an official marriage to cement their bond, but Angie knows that when those things happen she'll say yes. Because she says yes to everything Kelly tells her now.

The part she knows she's going to rue the most, once they're lying in each other's arms afterward and Angie takes a little time to unpack her feelings about this session, is that she comes even harder when she realized just how fully and completely owned she is. When she surrenders to a level of trance she didn't know she was capable of, when her thoughts telescope away from her focused awareness and become so distant they almost belong to someone else entirely, Angie feels her whole body clench with the kind of orgasm she only ever read about in romance novels and it finally hits her just how much she craves this kind of control. She wants to be owned, to be blank and empty and floating in an endless fog of bliss, and giving in to Kelly doesn't feel like a loss at all. It feels like fulfillment, contentment, and she will wonder whether independence was ever something she wanted or simply something she was told to want. But in the moment she's not thinking at all… which makes the kiss she gives her Mistress that much more passionate in its immediacy.

(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!)

[lovely---sage]

Pay for my gas and I'll dm you an uncensored pic

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Bailey Falls Asleep in Her Chair

It wasn't time to wake yet. Bailey knew it wasn't time to wake yet, because she could still hear that strange thrumming drone in her ears and the whispers inside it telling her to sleep, and even though it was a little bit strange to be drifting in a kind of hazy slumber that kept her just alert enough to listen but not to open her heavy eyelids Bailey nonetheless enjoyed the relaxation too much to resist. She slumped back in her cozy computer chair, eyes stuck shut and mouth hanging open, and simply let herself doze like a… like a good girl. It felt good to be a good girl.

It felt very good, in fact, and although Bailey had a loose and muzzy awareness that it was her own hand down between her legs it nonetheless felt like someone else was doing all the work to turn her on. She felt so delightfully passive, really nothing more than an indolent observer who nonetheless experienced all the dreamy ecstasy her fingers elicited, and it didn't feel like masturbation when she touched herself. It seemed more like she was being fucked by a stranger, the same stranger whose soft and gentle voice hid inside the pulsing drone that switched off Bailey's mind so completely, and whoever they were they knew just how to bring her to climax. Bailey didn't know how many times she'd cum already, but she was beginning to understand just how much pleasure she was capable of.

Every climax tied itself to the whispers, binding them closer and closer together until they seemed like one and the same thing to Bailey's dozy brain, but she was too sleepy to think about that right now. She didn't remember feeling so weary and exhausted before she opened the file her friend sent her--actually she recalled a moment of surprise, a brief befuddled notion that this wasn't the musical composition they were working on together--but now she was too relaxed to question anything that was happening to her. It was a warm and soothing sound, and the whispers cloaked inside it were even more warm and soothing. Bailey was going to need to send this to someone when she was done listening, just so they could experience the comforting tranquility of obedience.

That last word struck her as unusual, and there was even a moment when Bailey's brow furrowed as she struggled to figure out why her eyelids wouldn't open and her mind wouldn't stir from this dozy, dreamy state of pure bliss. But the thrumming drone piled relentlessly on like a blizzard of mesmerizing euphoria, burying her under layer after layer of thoughtless rapture until she simply couldn't imagine digging herself out from under it. She was obedient, that was a fact, and she wouldn't wake until that obedience became the core and center of her entire identity. And every step in the process of her subjugation would feel better and better, and every thought she surrendered to the whispers would make her cum that much harder. It was only common sense, really.

Bailey eventually woke, her fingertips wrinkled and the cushion underneath her smelling like cunt. She woke because it was time to wake, because she'd surrendered herself completely and the whispers told her she could come out of her trance only when she was completely owned. She knew she needed to email her new controller… but first she knew she needed to find someone to send the file to. Someone who wouldn't realize until it was too late that Bailey was merely passing on the gift of obedience to the next link in the chain.

(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!)

[lovely---sage]

Pay for my gas and I'll dm you an uncensored pic

[jukeboxemcsa]

An Unfortunately Chosen Jogging Path

"Stop. Look at me. Feel my gaze pinning your mind into obedience."

W-what? What, I… w-what's happening….?

"You're becoming my slave, that's what. I see you jogging past my property every day, I think you're a very pretty girl, and I've decided to claim you. Enjoy it."

I--ohhh fffucckkk. How, how are you….?

"Ssh. Don't ask questions. Speak only when spoken to. Turn around. Pull down your shorts. Bend over and grab your ankles. Respond to my commands with 'Yes, Master'."

Y-yes, Master. I--nnnhhh!

"Good girl. It looks like you're not wearing panties underneath those shorts. Were you hoping someone would come along and finger you like this?"

I--I, um, no, I just--they're workout clothes, I'm going to have to toss them in the wash as soon as I get home. I just don't like doing more laundry than I have to. M-Master.

"It's so adorable that you think you're going home. Tell the truth, slave--how long before you'd be missed if you simply disappeared while jogging?"

Y-yes, Master. About an hour, Master. I… I'm married, and my husband, he… he's making coffee for me right now. Plus I work from home and they'll notice if I'm not signed in. I take this path every day, so--

"Ssh. I didn't ask you to come up with reasons to let you go. I asked--never mind. Cum around my fingers thinking of being my obedient slut."

Nnnnnhhhh!

"Good girl. Now, slave, here's what you're going to do. You're going to continue in your routine, pretending I don't control you. You're going to encourage your husband to go jogging with you so I can meet him and talk to him. And when all that's done, you're going to quit your job. Do you understand?"

…yes, Master.

"I like that defiance. It's very cute. But I'm going to enjoy training it out of you even more."

(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]

Georgia's Less Switchy Than She Thinks

Kissing Georgia's neck was definitely against the rules, but she was too busy lolling her head back in ecstasy to complain about it. Her hand kept moving up and down Zane's shaft, so technically she hadn't conceded, but they both knew that it was little more than the rote and repetitive motion of someone who'd already conceded vast swathes of their mental real estate to the placid, dreamy bliss of trance. She was losing… again… and she would have been mad about it if it didn't feel so fucking good to drift off into a state of mesmerized euphoria and focus her entire mind on Zane's fingers wiggling away in her cunt.

In theory, the game had started because they were both switchy and kinky as well as constantly horny; Georgia read about some app that let you randomly choose a place to eat, and the article said that the real value of leaving the decision up to chance was the way it made you focus on your own opinions. Having a million different restaurants could freeze you up with option paralysis, but being offered a slice of pizza could make you realize that what you were really in the mood for was Chinese. It took only a moment of inspiration to apply that to her relationship with Zane--if they both tried to hypnotize each other while playing with their partner's private parts, sooner or later one of them would figure out they wanted to top more than they wanted to bottom and vice versa. And even if they never did, they'd have a fun time.

That was the theory. But as Georgia found her eyelids fluttering and a soft sigh escaping from her lips… again… she found herself acutely aware that she lost this particular struggle a lot more than she won it, and in fact she'd been losing several times in a row the last few weeks. Which wasn't exactly a problem, because she did like submitting to Zane and he made her feel very happy about her failure to resist when all was said and done, but it was making her confront something about her supposed switchiness that she was having a hard time swallowing. The longer she spent in a relationship with her boyfriend, the more she wanted to just give up on trying to top him and settle into meek, submissive ecstasy at his feet.

That was something they were going to have to talk about soon. Zane genuinely enjoyed being dominated, after all, and she enjoyed exercising her toppy side even if it wasn't with him. They might need to find other ways to get their needs met, open up their relationship and involve some of their kinky friends in this puzzle, and now was not the time to think about it because with a finger smoothly and seductively gliding over her clit like this all Georgia could really picture was two or three other women helping her to pleasure her Master's stiff prick and heavy, straining balls. She wasn't going to be good for anything but sex for a good long while now, and that wasn't the place to have serious conversations.

But it was the place to have big, strong climaxes, and Georgia's orgasm hit her like a freight train as her mind finally collapsed into obedience. She sagged against Zane, barely able to hold herself upright, and it was with a sense of relief that she sank to her knees under his guidance and began to kiss and lick his throbbing cock. She was having a little trouble swallowing her own desires for submission… but she'd never had trouble swallowing him.

(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]

Reina Makes a Confession

They'd been walking in silence for a good twenty minutes when Reina finally said what had clearly been on her mind ever since they left the party. "Jonny Parsons hypnotized you last week," she told Miranda, without preamble, and it was another long stretch of uncomfortable silence before she could manage to continue the thought. "That was why I wanted to get out of there in such a hurry, because I could see him looking in your direction and I knew he was going to sneak you off somewhere and I didn't want that to happen." The words hung in the air between them, but Miranda's face was shadowed between the streetlights and Reina couldn't see her reaction.

Finally, as they approached the next pool of light in the otherwise empty darkness, Miranda said, "And how would you know? Assuming I believe you, which I don't because I'd remember if I was hypnotized." Reina could hear the petulant indignation in her friend's voice, and she wondered if Miranda was upset because she thought she was too strong or smart or independent to be hypnotized, or if she was following the suggestion Jonny gave her to forget any of it ever happened. It was kind of uncomfortable knowing Miranda's mind wasn't her own anymore, but it was also kind of thrilling and Reina had spent a good solid week now trying to process those conflicting emotions without success.

But she could at least answer Miranda's question. "I know because I was there. The three of us were drinking out by the quarry, and he said he learned hypnosis while he was away at college, and you said hypnosis was all bullshit and he couldn't make anyone do anything they didn't want to. So he, um, he put you in a trance and he made you spread your legs and play with yourself, and then he made you forget and he told me not to tell you. And I mean, I didn't want to lie to you, but I was kind of scared that if I didn't say yes he'd just hypnotize me too so I kept just kind of waiting for a better way to handle it. I'm sorry, Randa, I know that was kind of chickenshit of me."

The next stretch between the streetlights was broken only by the slap of sandals on asphalt, as they rounded the corner past the old softball field and onto a stretch of road that was emptier than the surface of the moon. Finally, Miranda stopped dead directly in the center of a patch of light and snapped out, "Prove it. If I'm really some--some hypnotized slut who paws her pussy on command like you say I am, you should be able to just… just…." She trailed off into angry, humiliated silence, her face flushed bright red, and Reina found herself blushing as well--not because her friend had called her bluff, not even because she felt bad for Miranda, but because there was another reason she'd been putting off this conversation for a whole week and she hadn't wanted to admit it even to herself.

It was right there in front of her now, though, and she couldn't deny it because it was exactly what Miranda was asking her to do and the other woman was practically inviting her to use the trigger that had been living rent-free in Reina's head for the last seven days. "Finger dance, dolly," she said, wishing she didn't feel a surge of heat between her thighs at the use of the trigger, and as soon as she said it Miranda slid open her wraparound dress and squatted on the ground with her tits out and her legs spread. She put her hand on her pussy and began to rub, and Reina was forced to confront the truth she'd been squirming away from all this time--she loved seeing her friend like this, she'd enjoyed every minute of that night with Miranda and Jonny, and she couldn't help wanting to use the beautiful brunette like a toy. Which made this a temptation too difficult to resist.

(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]

Rubbing Her Brains Out

That's right, baby, round and round.

"…round and… round…."

Good girl. You're not really thinking at all anymore, are you? You're just staring into the spirals, circling your clitty with your fingers while your mind drifts for me, and repeating as much of my programming as you can fit into your empty little brain.

"…empty little brain…."

That's right, you've got a very empty brain right now, and you don't know when it happened and you don't know how to fight it but you know you're deeply hypnotized for me.

"…hypnotized for… you…."

Very good! You're deeply hypnotized and you're not thinking and your mind just keeps getting smaller and smaller until the only thing that fits in there is obedience and pleasure. Don't you just love that, little pet? Don't you just love being vacant and horny open to suggestions?

"…open to… to…."

I know, it's such a big word. Big words don't fit in that small, empty mind anymore, not with so much pleasure crowding them out. You're too dumb for big words, aren't you, sweetie? Too dumb and empty.

"…dumb and empty…."

But you know what? You can always get dumber. You can always get emptier. You can always get weaker for me as the pleasure continues, until you're the perfect horny slave girl and your mind is nothing but wet clay for me to shape and mold. And even though your waking self is too blank and blissful to listen, your deep self is soaking up every last word. You want to pay attention and obey like a good mindfucked slave.

"…ummm… slave….?"

That's my good girl! Even three words is too many to fit into that fuzzy little head now. It's just one. And soon you're going to be too dumb for even one word, isn't that right? It's just going to be grunting and nodding to show me you agree with everything your owner says.

"…uhhhh… uh huh?"

Good girl.

(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]

Tara Thanks Derek Properly for Hypnotizing Her

"--um, oh, h-hi, hi Derek, um, I was--" Tara's stammered stream of exclamations froze mid-sentence, unable to formulate even the most feeble of excuses for her current situation. She was lying naked on her friend's friend's bed, legs spread wide and fingers in her pussy, and when he walked in her eyes immediately dropped to his crotch in fascination even as her whole brain exploded into panic at being so obviously caught masturbating in his room. And Tara couldn't tell him why she did it, because she didn't understand why she did it, and she especially didn't understand why she kept rubbing herself even as the rest of her wilted under his stern, judgmental gaze.

"You were being a good girl," he finished for her, closing the door behind him, and Tara furrowed her brow as she tried to understand what he meant by the slightly cryptic phrase. She'd slipped away from the party downstairs without even so much as a feeble excuse, counting on the genial chaos to conceal her departure, and then she'd gone straight to their host's bedroom and wriggled out of her clothes before rubbing her pussy so much she left an obvious wet spot on his bedspread. She felt more like a bitch marking her territory than a good girl, and she assumed Derek was upset with her even though she could see the bulge in his pants visibly growing even as she watched, but he'd just called her a--a--

"I'm a good girl," she heard herself drone out, her voice vacant and devoid of inflection, and her cunt clenched hard around her thrusting fingers in a spasm of undisguised lust. Tara knew she'd heard herself sound like that before, maybe even recently--it brought to mind a conversation she was having downstairs before she suddenly found herself possessed with the uncontrollable urge to be all slutty in Derek's bed. One of Tara's legs slid clean off the mattress, gaping her pussy wider than ever, but she couldn't really make herself notice what her body was doing; she was stuck on that half-recalled interaction and the dazed and drowsy monotone she associated with it. Everything else sort of… drifted away.

Except for Derek's cock. He was taking it out now, pulling down his pants and his tight black boxer briefs to expose a penis Tara couldn't stop staring at, and the more she watched it sway and twitch and bob with every motion of his body the easier it became to rediscover that memory. They'd been talking about hypnosis, or rather he'd been talking and she'd been listening, and it had been surprisingly easy to let the chatter around them fade into the background while she smiled and nodded and let her eyes relax into glassy vacancy. "I'm a good girl," she heard herself say again, and that was what finally unlocked everything she was forgetting--Derek had turned her into a good girl with his mesmerizing patter, and she came up here to thank him for it.

There was really only one proper way to thank a man for hypnotizing her, though, and Tara was so glad she'd already gotten undressed and made herself wet and ready so she could offer him her cunt without even a moment's hesitation. He sank into her all the way on his first thrust, his balls smacking into her pussy, and Tara's eyes rolled back in her head as it finally became clear to her just how good being a good girl could be.

(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]

Vivian Finally Gives In

"I… I don't know what I'm doing here." It was Vivian at the door, squirming with embarrassment and unable to stop her gaze from one side of the hallway to the other in mortified terror--she was completely naked save for a pair of tight pink short shorts with an elastic waistband, certainly not the kind of outfit generally approved in the common areas of the apartment complex, and it was obvious to Mallory that the lanky brunette was desperate to come inside. She was tempted to leave her standing there a few moments longer, just to watch her sweat it out, but lust eventually won over playful sadism and she dragged the other woman inside.

The moment the door closed behind them, Mallory pushed Vivian up against the wall and shoved a hand down the front of her shorts, and Vivian's stammered semi-explanation kept getting lost in a muddle of heavy breathing and feverish kissing and general mush-minded confusion. "I, I was thinking of you, of the way you… mmmmhhh… the way you looked, and the way you smelled, and I--nnhh! I couldn't stop, it was like you were, mmmm, in my head, and, and ohhhh… oh fuck that feels so good…." She was rubbing up against Mallory in her obvious arousal, pushing up Mallory's tight black tank top until her pert breasts flopped out, and once the two of them started rubbing their tits together that was pretty much it for coherent thought from Vivian. Her speech devolved into grunts and moans and whimpers for a good long while.

Mallory didn't do much talking either, but she knew she didn't have to--she'd done all the priming and preparation earlier, dropping Vivian like a rock into a trance so deep the hypnotized brunette didn't even remember it and planting seed after seed of conditioning deep in the fertile soil of Vivian's subconscious until her friendship with the woman down the hall became a potent, erotic obsession. Vivian never even knew there was anything she needed to resist, and now that Mallory's fingers were deep inside her sopping cunt she readily convinced herself that this was exactly what she wanted all along. The pull that drew her back to the pretty blonde's apartment, over and over and over again, became just another sign of the crush she'd been nursing and Vivian never stopped to wonder why she had so few actual memories of their time together.

Vivian's hips ground relentlessly into Mallory's hand, speaking clearly and fluently to the dominant blonde in a language of pure and undisguised lust even while Vivian's actual words degraded into mumbled moans of, "Ohhh, oh fffucccckkkk," and Mallory made sure to talk back to her in the same secret code. She'd never touched Vivian like this before--her entire conditioning program had been centered around building the desire for exactly this kind of aggressive sex through careful, constant denial--but she quickly discovered that she knew exactly how to make her brainwashed, half-entranced slave cum so hard she saw stars.

Vivian's knees gave out after her second climax and she sank gradually to the floor, but that just made it easier for Mallory to hypnotize the whimpering brunette with her rubbing fingers until she was flat on her back with her eyes rolling back in helpless ecstasy. They'd move to the bedroom later, a bedroom Mallory was determined to make them share, but for now she couldn't wait one second longer to finally claim her prize.

(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]

Natalie's Perfect Spiral

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, p-pillows are nice…." The last word devolved into a slurred and sleepy hiss as Natalie returned her attention to the spiral, barely even noticing anymore that her hips were relentlessly grinding against Zoe's other pillow--or that there was nothing but a pair of thin black panties between her and the comforting cushion, for that matter. She was too fascinated by the perfect hypnotic spiral Zoe had created for her, conjuring it into existence with nothing but words and Natalie's own imagination, and the best thing about it was that it existed inside her mind so she could still see it with her eyes tight shut. A dreamy smile suffused her flushed features, and she found herself wondering how much deeper she could sink with such a perfectly mesmerizing image to guide her.

She vaguely heard a voice mumble, "uh huh, just so good to be a slut," but the words didn't really seem to connect to anything. Natalie had long ago stopped consciously listening to anything Zoe was saying, letting it flow past her distracted brain and all the way down to the very deepest levels of her identity while she stared at the spiral behind her eyes and let it carry her along into peace and pleasure, but it wasn't Zoe's voice speaking in a sleepy monotone while Natalie humped the other woman's pillow and rubbed her stiff pink nipples against the fabric of Zoe's bedspread. It sounded more like Natalie herself, but of course that was impossible because speaking required thinking and Natalie wasn't really thinking at all anymore.

"y-yes, a lesbian slut," she heard herself whimper, and gradually something like understanding came to her--Natalie was too deep in the spiral to think, but that didn't matter when she had Zoe to give her newer, better thoughts to fill her empty head while she humped Zoe's pillow like a bitch in heat. She could just repeat those thoughts back to Zoe, making them hers through the act of mindless recitation, and then she could enjoy the pleasure of being blank and going deeper while still carrying on the conversation with her study partner that she'd accidentally let drop in her fascination with her own bespoke hypno-spiral. It all made such perfect sense that Natalie couldn't help cumming when she finally understood it all, but the best part of being this deep and horny was that there was always another climax on the way.

"yuhhh… your lesbian slut, yesssss…." It was getting difficult to speak, what with the constant orgasms and the mind-blanking spiral and Natalie's helpless descent into mush-brained obedience, but Natalie tried her best to repeat the words and thoughts she was given. She wanted to show Zoe she understood, to demonstrate that every single word and phrase that was being filtered through her captivated subconscious was becoming inextricably linked to her very identity, because it just felt better and better to become more and more brainwashed and Natalie just knew she was grinding a wet spot into the other woman's pillow with her arousal over being so thoroughly conditioned like this. The soft, comfy cushion was going to smell like cunt for days… and Natalie's sleepy smile widened at the notion of resting her head on it that night and getting breath after breath of her own pussy wafted into her lungs while she slept next to her new owner.

(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]

A Midnight Picnic in the Woods

Emma didn't know what time it was when she woke out of a dead sleep to the sound of hoarse breathing just outside her tent--she could tell it was deep night, the time when the darkness of the forest surrounding them was so complete and absolute that there was nothing quite like it, and a sudden weight of arousal settled between her thighs at the notion of simply wriggling out of her panties and crawling out naked to see what was happening. It didn't make sense to her, but then again neither did the urgent gasping and soft squishing noises she was hearing and Emma's mind easily elided all the intervening steps in that chain of logic to arrive at the conclusion that she was making a good decision. She shrugged off her underwear, grabbed her flashlight, and crawled outside.

It was Cora she caught in the beam of her flashlight, and Emma felt a momentary wave of confusion wash over her when she realized she hadn't been entirely sure of that when she unzipped the flap and came outside. Of course it had to be Cora; this trip was just the two of them, out in a stretch of deep forest not usually frequented by tourists, and yet somehow she hadn't been certain who she was going to find when she looked around. That was almost in a way more surprising than finding her best friend completely naked on a spread blanket with two fingers buried in her soaking pussy, even though she'd never seen Cora masturbate before.

The suntanned brunette certainly didn't seem to mind being caught in the flashlight's beam; instead of clapping her parted thighs together or trying to cover up her small, pert breasts, she just gave Emma a dazed, dreamy smile and said to her in a muzzy voice, "I was just… having a picnic." Emma wanted to tell her that didn't make any sense--it was well past midnight on a moonless night, Cora didn't have any food laid out unless you wanted to make some kind of lewd joke about eating pussy, and it was difficult at best to relate her actions to picnicking. But another, more powerful part of her wanted to join the picnic her friend was having, and the flashlight slipped from Emma's nerveless fingers in her urgency to join Cora on the blanket.

They were both brightly illuminated by the beam of the discarded light, but that didn't really matter--there was no one around to watch, and once Emma sank two fingers into her messy cunt and began to thrust she soon found that her eyelids slipped shut just like Cora's. It was funny, she normally needed some kind of visual stimulus to help arouse her when she was looking to get her rocks off, but for some reason even though Emma's mind was a total blank she could still feel herself building to whole new heights of ecstasy. She felt like she could do this forever, just piston her hand back and forth against her steaming pussy until she passed out from sheer mindless bliss. She'd never known how much pleasure her body was capable of until now.

Even when she heard the sound of footsteps in the dry grass around them, Emma didn't open her eyes. The noise was familiar to her, reminding her of something that happened this afternoon even though she couldn't remember exactly what, and it only made her slip further and further away into the erotic reverie she was experiencing. She heard a soft, soothing voice murmur, "Good girls," and it made her clit throb harder with utter bliss, but Emma couldn't think about it and didn't want to. She only wanted to cum and obey, and luckily for her that was exactly what was about to happen.

(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!)

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Ximena Offers Some Sage Advice

"Come on in, girls," Ximena murmured, her low coaxing tones beckoning Luna and Isabel into the apartment. "Come in and talk to Tia Ximena, I can see you've got a lot on your mind." That was about as true as the older woman's title of aunt to her two neighbors--both women had glazed and vacant stares, and their faces only became more and more devoid of expression as they closed the door behind them and settled into mesmerized contemplation of the naked lady on the couch--but they nodded nonetheless. They'd grown accustomed over the last few months to bringing their problems to the wise, comforting authority figure who lived just down the hall from them, and neither Isabel nor Luna had ever noticed their trust slipping gradually into dependency.

Ximena spread her legs, revealing a tawny cunt with glistening moisture clinging to her light brown labia, and purred out, "Why don't you come and tell me all about it, Luna." The raven-haired younger woman nodded blankly, even though she didn't have a single notion of what had drawn her to Ximena's apartment in the first place--it had simply become habit by now to visit her neighbor as soon as Isabel got home from work, the two of them following instincts they didn't even realize Ximena had programmed into them, and although they had vague and euphoric memories of unburdening themselves to the wiser and older woman, they couldn't recall any specific details. And when Luna knelt between Ximena's thighs and opened her mouth, the only thing her tongue wanted to do was lick.

Isabel watched the whole spectacle with voyeuristic reverence, her hands moving on their own to shrug off her skirt and panties, but Ximena had something to occupy her as well. She hefted one heavy breast in her hand, cooing, "You'll feel so much better with something to suck on, sweetie," and Isabel's feet stirred themselves into motion like she was walking underwater. It hadn't taken Ximena long to discover Isabel's oral fixation--both women had babbled out all their dirty little secrets while in trance for the talented hypnotist, and Ximena had used them to ratchet her control over their minds ever more tightly with each passing day--and the moment Isabel's lips latched around Ximena's nipple her brain plummeted into a deep and thoughtless state of obedience. She simply couldn't resist her own intimately tailored temptation, and Ximena knew it.

"That's my good girls," she purred, her voice growing husky with arousal as her cunt slickened under Luna's ministrations. "Don't you feel so much better now?" They obviously did; by this point Luna was humping the air while she licked, and Isabel was letting out tiny grunts of ecstasy under her breath while she squeezed her thighs together in a kind of dreamlike masturbation. Later, once the immediate urgency of her lust was sated, Ximena would bring her two pets together to make love while she deepened their conditioning, but she always found they were a little more receptive to brainwashing when they had a chance to get themselves worked up and she needed a bit of post-nut clarity to help her determine how best to control them. This wasn't just a way to get her rocks off with two hypnotized sluts, it was part of her longer strategy.

Which was, admittedly, all geared toward the goal of getting her rocks off with two hypnotized sluts, but Ximena was happy to acknowledge that. She would train them, condition them, implant their brains with triggers and suggestions that would make them her obedient pets for as long as they lived here… and when they moved on, as they inevitably would, there was always another pair of young women to come along and learn how to trust the wisdom of age.

(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!)

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Shea Gets Her Favorite Fix

"Unnnnfhhh…." The grunted exhalation escaped Shea's lips involuntarily, compelling her to raise her hips a little bit higher and present her ass even more lewdly for her owner's inspection. She'd thought she was horny when Vic snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor, sending her instantly to her hands and knees in what she could only think of now as the breeding position, but when he told her what a good little cow she was being it hit one of her many hot buttons so hard she felt her head go momentarily hazy with a rush of arousal. It felt like a physical weight settling between her thighs, a throb so powerful it was like a bass drum booming in her clit, and it was really no wonder she couldn't stop herself from moaning.

It generally wasn't a good idea to display that kind of naked desperation in front of her dominant, and sure enough when Vic reached down to trace her plump pink pussy lips with his fingers he showed a languid disinterest in satisfying her urgent lust. "Awwww, does someone get turned on from being called a needy cow, hmm?" he asked, keeping his touch feather-light even as Shea ground her hips back against his hand involuntarily. "Does it make my good girl all wet and horny to picture Daddy's cock mounting that pretty rump and fucking a baby into that slick and needy cow cunt?" Shea grunted again, the dirty talk sending another booming throb of lust straight into her clit. She didn't call Vic 'Daddy' because of any kind of patriarchal fixation on familial authority figures--she called him that because her womb was going to make him a father someday.

Neither one of them knew exactly when 'someday' might be; Shea was still working her way through grad school, while Vic was only now beginning to book enough gigs to think about quitting his day job and having a child wouldn't make that difficult transition any easier. But fantasizing about a belly so swollen it brushed the floor whenever she squatted on all fours for him was free, and getting hypnotized to crave the act of breeding didn't cost much either. "Come on, use your big girl words, tell Daddy how much you want him to fuck a baby into that pretty cow cunt," Vic cooed, and Shea's head swam with arousal as she felt herself slipping into a light trance simply from her own mind's instinctive and automatic association between sex and mindlessness. She moaned again, then moaned even harder when she realized how dumb she sounded right now.

"I, I w-want you to… mmmmooooo… to f-fuck a baby into--moooooooo--" Shea momentarily broke off, her arousal so acute and intense that she could actually feel her musk leaking down her slick thighs and onto Vic's teasing fingers. One of his favorite suggestions had been to make Shea unable to say more than five words in a row without mooing, and combined with everything else he was doing to her the intimate awareness of just how deeply brainwashed she'd become was really messing with the hypnotized submissive's head. "Fuck a baby into me, moooooo," she sighed out at last, her whole body quivering with lust, and it was with the greatest of joy that she finally felt Vic's shaft sink into her sopping cunt and knew that she could at least believe for a while he was going to make her horny little breeder cow dreams come true.

(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!)

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A Call-and-Response Reveals So Much

Bryan thought he was a perfectly normal young man doing perfectly normal things right up until he rounded the corner and saw Dale standing near one of the hot springs wearing a swimming suit virtually identical to his. The moment he noticed the suntanned stranger--or, to be more scrupulously accurate, the moment he noticed that they were alone together out here with no one to see what they were doing--Bryan's eyes fixated on the bulge in the tight black briefs and he found himself walking over to the other man in a shambling daze. "I like your funky fresh outfit," he heard himself say, his voice a toneless murmur, not knowing where the words came from but inexplicably certain there was a correct response to them and he was just waiting to hear it.

It turned out Dale knew exactly what it was. "Thanks," he droned out, sounding just as drained and drowsy as Bryan had only moments ago. "I got it to show off my penis." The moment the bizarre, otherworldly call-and-response was finished, both men reached down the front of each other's swimsuits and pulled out one another's stiffening cocks--Bryan was astonished to find himself encircling another man's shaft with his fingers, a behavior he felt sure he wouldn't and hadn't ever engaged in before, but there was something dulled and muted about his own emotional responses. It was as if his mind was wrapped in layer upon layer of thick gauze, and he was floating somewhere outside it listening to his muffled thoughts and feelings rather than experiencing them himself.

But the pleasure he was feeling, that came through loud and clear. Dale turned out to be an absolute expert at jacking off other men, and within moments Bryan's cock was drooling precum and he found himself panting for breath and straining to hold back a climax. The expression on Dale's own face, a kind of slack-jawed ecstasy that left his eyes crossed and his tongue lolling out of his open mouth, suggested that Bryan himself was better at giving handjobs than he'd ever suspected, and soon he was so lost in arousal and euphoria that he barely even registered his own voice saying, "Dale, this pleasure reinforces your surrender." He didn't even know he knew this man, but Bryan was sure he'd called him by exactly the right name.

Dale's response was much the same, and delivered in the same slurred and sleepy tone. "Bryan, this pleasure reinforces your surrender," he growled, his voice hoarse from the effort of holding back so much excitement, but the moment the second call-and-response was completed Bryan knew he didn't have to hold back anything anymore. He let his cock release all its stored arousal, spurting gush after gush of pearly jizz all over Dale's belly until he'd made a total mess of the other man's body, and the warm splatters against his own stomach told him that Dale was doing much the same thing with him. He didn't know why it was so important to cum on command like an obedient toy, but he was proud that he could follow his instructions so perfectly.

They cleaned each other off with their tongues, slurping away every last drop of semen before settling into the hot springs to relax, and Bryan found himself reciting and repeating all sorts of additional mantras while he looked into Dale's deep brown eyes and sank deeper. Their Master didn't show up, not this time, but Bryan could feel his mind settling into the familiar groove of absent forgetfulness and he knew he would have plenty more chances to submit to him again. Him, Dale… and all the other young men Bryan met out here with funky fresh swimsuits they bought to show off their penises.

(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!)

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This Trigger Goes to Eleven

"I made a thing that hums, Becky," Rhona said, a touch of condescension in her voice as she looked at her pretty blonde roommate. "Would you like me to show you?" It was a decidedly odd question, but then again Rhona was a decidedly odd person--they'd wound up living together on short notice, driven by necessity when their old roommates both flaked out at about the same time and a mutual friend played matchmaker to save them both from couch-surfing, and even though there were never any big clashes there was a constant sense of friction between them. Because pretty blonde Becky was a normal woman and Rhona was, well… odd. Weird interests, gothy outfits, and an attitude of general dismissal toward Becky's intelligence and aesthetic. This was typical of the issues they had.

And yet despite all that, Becky found herself fixating on the clunky handheld device Rhona was showing her, and she heard herself say, "Yes, Rhona, I'd like that very much," in a tone of polite interest so studiously chosen that it sounded obviously rehearsed. That didn't make any sense to Becky, and she furrowed her brow in confusion trying to figure out why she'd just said those words and what compulsions were going through her head, but then Rhona turned the dial on the remote up a notch and the room filled with a soft, gentle hum. And without knowing why, Becky felt a stir of arousal between her thighs.

It wasn't like the hum was doing it, she thought absently, even as her hand drifted down between her legs and began to gently rub her pussy almost of its own volition. It was more like--like she remembered the sound from somewhere, as intimate and familiar as the breath of a lover against her skin, and it was bringing back warm happy sensations of drifting arousal and lazy, relaxed anticipation. Becky felt like she should remember more about that sense memory, the context attached to it and the reasons it was affecting her so profoundly right now, but Rhona was asking her, "Do you like that hum, pretty girl?" and Becky felt a subtle, insidious pressure to answer.

Her response once again seemed to come from somewhere outside her, just like her impulse to paw at the crotch of her leggings right in front of her leering roommate, and Becky heard herself mumble, "Yes, it sounds just perfect, ma'am." Before she could unpack those strange and cryptic words, Rhona turned the device up another notch, and as the sound increased in volume and intensity Becky found the throbbing lust in her pussy scaling up the exact same way. It was like she was… fuck, she was unlocking a whole other world of pleasure and lust and mesmerized passivity, and for just a moment Becky found herself holding onto the answer to her own bizarre behavior before it slipped away in a tide of ecstasy. It was too hard to think when she was this horny. She just needed to satisfy herself before she could do anything else.

But release eluded her, and another couple of clicks made Becky so brainlessly wet that she wound up tugging her shirt out of the way so she could play with her nipples with one hand while the other rubbed ceaselessly at her soaking cunt. "I--nnfh, I, I can't, I--hhhhh!" she gasped out, acutely aware that she sounded every bit as dumb and drippy as Rhona no doubt imagined her to be… and even more aware that the dial had only been turned up to four. And when her glassy eyes locked onto it, Becky saw that it went all the way up to eleven.

(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!)