Sarah’s Daily Sessions
“Feeding time, sweetie.” Sarah doesn’t need to be told twice. Her mouth opens, her eyes close, and her legs spread wide to give Maura access to her slick, needy cunt. She knows that she’s been conditioned to respond like this, that months of sexual pleasure are slowly brainwashing her into a mindless, obedient fucktoy for her new owner… but the throb in her clit is so much stronger than her willpower now. It needs Sarah to give up on her increasingly feeble efforts at resistance and sink into a deep hypnotic trance so that she can cum for Maura, and she’s too horny to try to fight her own body as well as her programming. Her deep self has been twisted around into her Mistress’s ally, eagerly betraying her in exchange for the orgasms she’s otherwise denied.
Maura leans in and presses her full, milky tit against Sarah’s mouth, and the young woman instinctively latches on and begins to suckle. It’s not the only food she’s allowed–Sarah gets most of her nutrition from daily smoothies prepared by Maura’s other slave, whose blank stare is a constant reminder of the mindless pet Sarah knows she’s going to become–but even those are mixed with Maura’s breast milk. Sarah’s not allowed to taste anything that doesn’t have a little bit of Mistress in it now, and she’s already instinctively associating her owner’s lactations with gratification and complacency. Mistress is a full belly, the sleepy feeling after a good meal. It’s a deep, primal attachment that bypasses all of Sarah’s conscious determination to resist and goes straight down to the very base of her lizard brain.
And so does… Sarah feels her hips strain, bucking upward again and again, questing for Maura’s hovering hand in a desperate attempt to feel the other woman’s fingers rubbing against her slick pussy lips. She knows the other woman won’t touch her cunt until she settles down and accepts her role as the passive recipient of Maura’s pleasure, but she’s too horny to help herself–every day involves constant teasing now, either from her own masturbatory efforts or from the other slave’s diligent caresses, but Sarah can only climax when Maura makes her cum. It’s an astonishingly effective form of brainwashing–Sarah thought she’d be able to hold out for at least a month, long enough to win the older woman’s wager and erase her college debts, but a few days of continuous edging left her utterly broken and desperate to be fucked. She knows now that she never stood a chance. And like everything else about her conditioning, that makes Sarah so fucking wet.
“That’s my good girl,” Maura coos, her cadence already falling into the hypnotic rhythm that Sarah knows so well as her fingers finally make contact and the mesmerized woman’s thoughts simply crumble into oblivious bliss. “That’s a good little mindless fucktoy for Mistress.” Sarah knows that she’s going to emerge from this trance with her programming reinforced and expanded, new links in the chain of inescapable brainwashing that bind her into Maura’s control. But she can’t even remain conscious anymore, let alone struggle against the conditioning that makes her more obedient every day. Her mind is trapped in orgasmic ecstasy, a continuous pulse of euphoric pleasure that replaces thought and memory and leaves her completely open to her owner’s commands… and even if she could fight it, Sarah’s no longer certain she’d want to try.
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