30s NB transfemme lesbian (she/they) sub. plz play with my mind? Very NSFW. Minors DNI. Erotic hypnosis, mind control, bimboification, orgasm control, denial, edging. Asks, submissions, and DMs welcome! Last orgasm: 2/4/2025 Next orgasm: june?
This is all just kink and fantasy. Consent is key!
Please do:
Be 18+. MDNI.
Be polite and respectful of boundaries.
Send me asks and DMs
Be my friend, fellow sub, or domme
Hypnotize me, domme me, condition my mind, show me pretty spirals, control my orgasms, tell me how to edge, and train me to be a perfect edgeslut who can’t cum without permission
Please don’t:
Be homophobic, transphobic, sexist, racist, xenophobic, ableist, Republican, or otherwise bigoted
Kathleen started the metronome. And Zoe remembered.
She remembered that she'd heard that sound before, the constant tick and tock of a pendulum swinging back and forth in its housing in a relentless rhythm that stopped her thoughts every time she heard it. She remembered that every time she lost a thought to the metronome, it became that much harder to form another one, until she was sitting on her study partner's bed staring blank and empty at the shining metal that just kept swaying from side to side, capturing her gaze and making her eyelids simply too heavy to stay open. She remembered all these things and more.
She finally recalled why she kept coming back over to Kathleen's dorm to hang out, even two whole semesters after they'd stopped taking classes together and the whole notion of needing to help each other cram for tests was long abandoned. She understood why she dressed in tight, clinging turtleneck sweaters with no bra on underneath, and why she wore a thigh-high tartan dress that made her look like a slutty schoolgirl from an old music video and why the idea of putting panties on underneath it always seemed to slip her mind. The metronome revealed all these little secrets to Zoe's dazed and drowsy mind, even as it wiped away every last effort to think about what she was rediscovering as soon as it formed.
And inevitably, these revealed memories led her to the most important discovery of all… Zoe really wanted to pull up her shirt and let her big, heavy tits flop out so that Kathleen could play with them. It wasn't actually her intention to want that, it was an impulse Kathleen implanted in her vulnerable brain during one of the many times the metronome wiped her will away and left her deliciously susceptible to suggestions, but every time Zoe tried to remind herself of that important fact the tick and the tock stopped that thought before it could finish. And ultimately before it could even begin. Zoe's willpower had limits, while the metronome could keep going forever.
And once her top was pulled up, and her lush, voluptuous breasts were fully exposed to Kathleen's gaze and her groping touch, Zoe found there wasn't much of a reason to try to think at all anymore. What was happening to her tits felt good, and it made her pussy wet and leaky and ready to be used, and she was feeling so dopey and blissed-out that her tongue lolled out of her head and her eyes crossed in an expression of vacuous ahegao ecstasy. After that it just seemed silly to fight her programming, and Zoe's efforts at thought soon coasted to a complete stop.
Zoe never really knew how long she spent in trance like that. Time didn't matter when she was eating pussy, or when she was getting her cunt stuffed by a big thick strap-on, or when she was reciting her latest conditioning while she masturbated herself stupid for a webcam she was too dumb to even realize was there. But she knew when the metronome went still that it was time to start thinking again… and more importantly, she knew what it was time to forget until her next session with her study partner Kathleen.
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You Meet the Most Interesting People Working in Community Theater
"I think we need to talk about these silly little notions of yours," Becca murmured, her sultry voice rendered infinitely more seductive by the two fingers buried in Susan's cunt all the way up to the knuckle. "Now, you were telling me you were straight just an hour ago, and I think that's so adorable of you, but I don't think it really fits the facts, do you? I think it's really better to describe you as a needy bisexual slut who's so desperate for a big hard cummie that she can't keep her hands off her tits while I finger her pussy, and you have to admit--that suits you so much better, doesn't it?"
Susan tried to reply, even though her muddled brain wasn't sure whether she planned to spit back some useless defiance or simply beg for the climax she could feel pressing in on her, but her words were obliterated even in the privacy of her own head when Becca's thumb found Susan's clit and rubbed her to an explosive grunt of pure ecstasy. Susan's fingers pinched her own nipple so hard it practically hurt, desperate to add that tiny little extra bit of sensation she knew would get her over the edge, but Becca was a master at reading people and refused to give it to her. She kept Susan right where she wanted her, the whole time, waiting for an admission Susan knew it would be a mistake to give.
And she was so fucking nice about it, too. "Ohhh, sweetie!" she cooed, the words dripping with mock sympathy even as her eyes drank in the sight of Susan's desperate thrashing with playful amusement sparkling in their depths. "I know, it's so hard for you being all stuck like that, isn't it? Don't worry, I know I can help you. All you need to do is tell me the truth, just say you're a bisexual slut and you need me to make you cum, and I can make all that frustration go away. Don't you want that, baby girl? Don't you want to stop needing this so much?" Susan's eyelids squeezed shut, and her back arched on the prop bed they were supposed to be getting out of storage for the summer play. She knew there was no way out of this except to admit defeat, but she didn't know where that would lead so she tried her best to hold onto her only ally--silence.
She failed. Susan didn't know how long it took, because time lost all meaning when Becca was playing with her cunt like that, but eventually she heard a thin, reedy whimper gasping out, "I… I'm a bisexual slut…." and she realized the voice belonged to her. It completed the dissociation she'd been drifting into ever since Becca began touching her, convincing her fully that she was nothing more than a passenger in her own body watching her descent into lesbian submission, and she gave up trying to fight anymore as she heard herself say, "And I need you to make me cum." It didn't seem real, none of it did, but the orgasm she experienced was very real and it was the best climax she'd ever had in her entire life.
It wasn't nearly enough to sate her, though, and soon she was weakly grasping at Becca's wrist in a pathetic effort to keep the other woman's hand inside her cunt. "Oh, does my good girl need some more?" Becca chuckled, clearly expecting exactly this kind of submissive behavior now that the first violent cracks had shown in Susan's resistance. "Well, I think she's going to have to earn it. I think she's going to have to tell me just what she's willing to do for another big, strong cummie like that." The use of the third person only intensified Susan's dissociation from her own identity, and she found herself dazedly agreeing with Becca's words as if they were talking about someone else entirely. There were still six whole weeks before the play even premiered, and Susan was now fully certain that by the time it wrapped production she'd be nothing more than a helpless slave to the woman fingering her slick pussy.
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Diane's eyes burned.
She tried to close them again, but the restraints around her head tightened instantly with a sharp metallic click, forcing her gaze back toward the impossible radiance flooding the chamber.
Light pulsed across the walls in violent waves.
White.
Pink.
Violet.
The colors strobed in precise, rhythmic bursts that pierced straight through her vision and buried themselves somewhere deeper than sight. Every flash seemed to linger behind her eyes even after it vanished, ghostly afterimages twisting together into spirals that refused to fade.
Diane strained hard against the metal clamps holding her arms. Nothing moved.
Cold steel locked her wrists and ankles firmly against the chair beneath her, every struggle rewarded only by the painful bite of restraints digging deeper into her skin.
Her pulse hammered wildly.
"Let me out!" she shouted. The words sounded small inside the room.
The chamber itself was strangely bare aside from the lights. Smooth metallic walls curved around her without corners or seams, reflecting the illumination endlessly until the entire room seemed to pulse like the inside of some gigantic mechanical heart.
And always: The Light.
Diane shuddered violently as another wave flashed across her eyes. Something was wrong with it. Not just physically wrong. Not just painfully bright or deliberately disorienting. Wrong in a way her mind struggled to explain.
The strobing patterns felt intentional.
Every pulse seemed carefully timed to her breathing, to the rhythm of her heartbeat, to the tiny involuntary movements of her eyes as they desperately searched for somewhere safe to look.
But there was nowhere safe.
Every direction led back to The Light.
Diane squeezed her eyes shut again despite the restraints immediately tightening harder around her skull. Pain shot briefly through her temples. Then warmth followed. A low sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.
"No," she whispered shakily.
That frightened her more than the restraints.
Because beneath the terror and confusion a tiny part of her reacted to the light with something dangerously close to pleasure.
The realization made her stomach twist. She yanked harder against the clamps.
"I need to get out," she muttered rapidly. "I need to," her thoughts stumbled.
The lights flashed again.
For half a second, words appeared hidden inside the illumination. Her brain seemed to pull meaning from the patterns instinctively before she could stop it.
'Relax.'
Diane's breath hitched.
"No."
Another pulse.
'Look deeper.'
Her head throbbed violently.
Fragments of memory surfaced and vanished just as quickly. Dark hallways. Soft voices. Someone guiding her gently forward with a hand against her back. Then sitting in this chair already restrained while distant figures adjusted machinery around her.
How long had she been here?
The question sent panic surging through her chest. She couldn't tell.
Every attempt to think backward dissolved beneath another wave of flashing brilliance. The Light interrupted concentration itself, breaking thoughts apart before they could fully form.
And each failure left her slightly dizzier afterward.
Slightly softer.
The room hummed quietly around her. Machines. Electronics. A low feminine voice somewhere beyond the walls speaking in calm measured tones she couldn’t quite make out.
Diane jerked suddenly as the restraints around her wrists loosened slightly. Hope surged through her instantly.
Then the lights changed.
The violent strobing softened into slower pulses now, deeper pinks swirling lazily through white illumination. The shift should have been less overwhelming.
Instead it felt far more intimate. The warmth inside her deepened immediately.
Diane stared helplessly. The Light seemed beautiful now.
That thought slammed into her hard enough to make her gasp.
Another pulse interrupted her.
The spirals behind her eyes turned slower.
Her breathing unconsciously matched their rhythm.
And somewhere deep inside her mind, beneath the panic and resistance, Diane felt the horrifying beginning of a new emotion emerging: Lust.
She shivered violently.
The restraints around her arms had slackened further. Her wrists were free to twist now inside the clamps, soft fingertips resting against smooth metallic curves that warmed beneath her touch.
Her eyes lingered on the spirals pulsing slowly in front of her.
"Stop." She barely recognized her own voice. It sounded too distant. Too soft. Too lost.
The spirals grew slightly brighter.
A strange tingle shot through her fingertips.
Diane swallowed.
The warmth was still spreading inside her, creeping deeper into her limbs until the urge to touch something overwhelmed her.
Between her legs, her core throbbed, demanded her attention. But her arms couldn't reach there.
Her fingertips caressed the restraints, the metal warm and alive beneath her fingers. The texture shifted as the smooth steel turned silky soft.
She didn't even notice her mind drifting toward thoughts about what else that texture could be.
The Light swirled before her, pink and purple patterns flashing slowly in front of her vision. Every flash seemed to pull her in a little bit further. The fear was still there, but muted, buried beneath layers of heat and need.
'Obey The Light,' the colors pulsed.
Her head throbbed painfully. A soft whimper escaped her lips. She was dimly aware of a voice somewhere beyond the walls, feminine, confident, speaking slowly and deliberately. It was familiar somehow. Where had she heard it before?
Diane couldn't remember. Her mind was foggy, hazy, as though the thoughts themselves had been wrapped in thick cotton. Every attempt to think brought only confusion, a dull ache in her head, and the relentless throbbing of her cunt.
"Obey The Light," Diane whispered, echoing the words that seemed to dance across the walls.
Her hands twitched slightly, the restraints growing even looser. Whirring echoed through the room. Something pierced the skin of her hips, lips, breasts and butt. A low hiss followed. Cool liquid flowed into her, tingling and making every inch of skin feel like a hotbed of sensitivity. Diane moaned softly, her fingers curling against the arm rests of the chair.
A figure appeared before her. A tall, beautiful curvaceous form without any features. Long strands of light fluttered like hair in a breeze. The Light's breasts, hips, legs and butt swayed gently. Her pussy glistened, the lips engorged, puffy, wet and open.
"Please," she whispered. Diane wasn't even sure what she was asking for, her voice thick, her words sluggish. She tried to force herself to think beyond the haze, to find some clarity, to find an escape from this situation. She couldn't think, couldn't remember why she'd come to this strange place.
The Light filled her mind.
'Obey The Light.' The figure mouthed, dancing closer. She smiled and stroked a hand across Diane's cheek, sending pleasure shooting through her. Diane moaned and arched into her, straining against the restraints holding her in the chair. The restraints loosened even further.
The figure stepped forward until she straddled Diane's lap. The figure pressed her hands to Diane's chest, caressing, squeezing her breasts. The pressure on her nipples sent sparks through her. She writhed, her body was nothing but clay. She couldn't fight it. Didn't want to. All that was left of her mind was the need for more, the hunger and the lust and the desperate, desperate desire to obey. Diane whimpered as The Light pressed their lips together.
The restraints slid away. Diane's hands rushed to her desperate cunt. The Light's tongue, thick and wet, pushed between her lips. She tasted sweet and tart. Diane couldn't stop moaning, couldn't stop moving her fingers inside herself. She wanted more. She needed more. Her skin was aflame. She was aching for it.
'Obey,' the words pulsed behind her eyes.
Her pussy clenched around her fingers, her muscles spasming, and she was cumming, pleasure crashing through her. Diane groaned and thrashed, bucking under the figure on her lap, and the figure ground down against her, pushing into her.
Diane's self burned and dissolved.
Arousal surged again. Her skin felt electric. Her clit ached, and she was desperate for another orgasm, for another taste of The Light's sweet, tart mouth. Diane whined, her body quivering with need. Her vision blurred. All she saw was the spirals pulsing behind her eyes and The Light's radiant figure, so beautiful, so powerful.
The restraints fell away completely.
The Light took her hand and helped her to her feet, then guided her forward until she pressed her against the wall of the room, kissing her again deeply, fingers curling inside of Diane.
Something long, hard and cold entered her quivering asshole. She felt her expanding butt cheeks spread. Her eyes flew open and she gasped into the mouth of the Light, her body shuddering.
'You're perfect, Diane. Obey the Light. Your body belongs to The Light.' The Light's words filled her mind and her pussy clenched again, her head falling forward as another wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
She felt like she was drowning in sensation, her entire body alight, and the figure held her up, kissing her deeply.
'Obey the Light,' The Light commanded.
Diane could only obey.
She felt her mind drifting away, leaving behind only desire and obedience. She felt herself being shaped, molded, her mind and body becoming one, and she felt The Light's control, her will, her power. Diane could do nothing but obey. And she didn't want to do anything else.
Diane felt her curves expand even further, and she was cumming again, her cunt throbbing around the fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. She pushed the rod deeper into her own asshole. Her breasts swelled, filling out into a delicious melons, and she could feel the heat in her nipples, in her pussy. She could feel the pressure in her ass.
She felt the changes happening to her body. The changes happening inside her.
And she could feel the hunger, the need for more of this pleasure, for more of The Light.
Another orgasm rolled through her. Diane could feel the Light inside her. Diane was an extension of The Light. A tool. She was an object, a plaything, a sex doll. Diane had no memories of before The Light filled. She existed to serve, to be used, to obey. Diane was The Light's slut and whore. She wanted nothing more.
Her eyes glazed over and she stopped thinking at all. There was only obedience.
***
"Hello, my gooning idiots. I hope you are ready to pump and shlick for The Light," purred Diane with a smirk. Her long lashes fluttered as she winked and gave her followers a sexy smile, her eyes flashing pink.
Diane lounged in her chair, looking radiant and beautiful, her skin glowing in the soft light, her blonde hair falling down her shoulders in perfect, luscious curls. She had on a tiny, lacy, white crop top that showed off her perfect tits, with her nipples showing clearly through the thin fabric. Her pink, pouty lips were stained dark red, her makeup immaculate.
Her pink pussy glistened between her spread legs, bare and smooth. A small silver barbell twinkled in the dim lighting, threaded through her engorged clit, and her puffy lips dripped wetly. The room smelled of her arousal.
Diane leaned in close, her lips brushing the microphone, her fingers playing with a nipple through her top.
White.
Pink.
Violet.
Swirling colors iluminated her face. The spirals of pink and white pulsed behind her eyes and shone on her flawless face, casting shadows across her perfect features, highlighting her full, plump lips.
Her fingers slipped inside of herself and began pumping in and out. She moaned softly. Her body shuddered.
Diane was The Light. She belonged to The Light. And The Light was her.
Her mind had long since been erased and reformed, sculpted and molded by The Light into what she was now: a toy, a whore, an extension of The Light itself.
"Today I have a special gift for all my pussy pumpers. I know how much you love seeing me pump up and get fucked. But today, we're going to try something a little different. You see, The Light has given me a very special task." Diane smiled and leaned back, her hands moving over her chest and belly. "Today I'm going to show you just how much of a good little whore I am." Diane spread her legs wider. "And how easy it is to become a recruit for The Light."
Diane's hand slid down to her dripping cunt and she began rubbing herself, her fingers circling her clit.
"Mm. That feels good." Diane sighed. "It's so hot to be exposed like this, to be watched and desired, to be used. To be controlled." Diane shuddered. Her eyes glazed over slightly, and the spirals of The Light appeared in her eyes.
She pumped her fingers in and out of her cunt, moaning and bucking her hips.
"The Light is the best Mistress. She takes care of her sluts. Makes them perfect. She makes sure we are always happy, horny, and ready to serve. All the girls that serve The Light, they're all perfect little fuck dolls." Diane moaned and shuddered. "Just like me. Just like what you're becoming right now." Diane smiled and ran a finger down her body, stopping just short of her clit. She flicked it and gasped. "The Light will take care of you too, you know. You just have to submit. Go on. Watch. And put those fingers into your dumb cunts."
Diane spread her legs even further. The Light's pulsing grew faster.
"The Light is so generous," Diane said. She pumped her fingers faster, her body quivering, her nipples hard and aching. "She'll take care of you. Just submit to her. Give in to your desires. Let go of your pathetic, worthless life. The Light is your Mistress, your owner. The Light is all that matters."
Diane closed her eyes and let her head fall back. "I love being a slut. You know that you pathetic goon sluts. Girls shlick for The Light, become mindless for The Light. Boys pump and pay for The Light. The Light owns you all."
The Light swirled in Diane's mind, pulsing with each pump of her fingers in her wet cunt.
Her body was on fire. The Light's power surged through her, filling her, and the pleasure grew stronger. Her pussy was slick and hot, and she couldn't stop pumping. She wanted to be a slut forever.
Her fingers circled her clit faster, and she could feel her orgasm approaching. "I'm so close. Just a few more pumps and I'm going to cum. But not you, gooners. Only those claimed by The Light can cum."
Diane pumped harder. "Oh, Mistress! I'm so close! Please, Mistress! Please let me cum! I'm your slut! I'm your whore! I'm your slave! I'm your property! Use me, abuse me! Please, Mistress!"
Her orgasm crashed through her and she screamed. She bucked her hips, and she felt the first waves of her orgasm rippling through her body. She arched her back, her toes curling and her head rolling back.
Her body shuddered, her pussy gushing with wetness.
"That's the pleasure The Light can give you," she said through clenched teeth, her body trembling and shaking with the force of her climax. "That's the pleasure The Light has for all who obey. Give yourself to her. Submit to her. Become her slut. Her whore."
The spirals in Diane's eyes flared brightly and her orgasm peaked again. Her pussy contracted and squeezed her fingers. Her body shook violently and she cried out in pleasure, her hips thrusting forward and her legs trembling. The spirals pulsed and throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and her orgasm built higher still, her body shuddering.
"Good girls shlick and submit. Good boys pump and pay." Diane panted as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Her pussy was gushing wetly, and she could feel the warm wetness on her fingers. "Give in. Submit to your desires. The Light will take care of you. The Light will use you, abuse you. The Light will own you. The Light is the only Mistress you need. The Light will take care of everything else. Just submit. Just obey. And the pleasure will never stop."
The spirals pulsed faster, and Diane's orgasm crested. Her body tensed and her back arched. She cried out and thrust her hips upward. The spirals flashed brightly, and her vision went white. Her body shuddered and she came hard. Her pussy contracted around her fingers and she gushed wetly. Her body shuddered and trembled. She collapsed backward, panting heavily, and the spirals in her eyes faded.
The Light smiled and ran a finger over Diane's slick cunt. "Come to me, little goobers. Obey The Light. Just like pathetic, dumb Diane." She chuckled softly and licked her fingers, tasting the sweet, tangy flavor. "Obey The Light."
When Marla took the dildo out of her purse and suction-cupped it to the marble surface of the kitchen island, to say that Becky was shocked would be an understatement. She stared at the wobbling sex toy in stunned amazement, her eyes following the swaying tip as its residual momentum sent it bobbing back and forth like they were magnetized to its every movement. But it wasn't surprise because her boyfriend's mother had suddenly done something so lewd and unexpected, or because she had no idea why a woman over twice her age might suddenly decide to engage in wild behavior. No, Becky was staring because she knew exactly what the fake cock signified. And because she literally couldn't look away.
"It's amazing what you can find out about someone's online presence with just a little searching," Marla said mildly, almost as though she wasn't even aware that Becky's fingers were twitching helplessly in a desperate effort to keep herself from undressing right in front of the woman she was trying so very hard to impress. "You're very sloppy about hiding your kink profiles, dearie--frankly, I wondered if you actually wanted to be found out, you've shown so much of your face and body over the years. You started young, didn't you? Barely even eighteen, and you were already letting men trick you into posting that slutty little cunt of yours for strangers on the internet. And seven years have only made you sluttier." She sounded judgmental, and Becky couldn't help blushing, but she also sounded… excited? Triumphant? Becky didn't know what it meant, but she knew it was trouble.
"Of course, I could be wrong," Marla continued, even as Becky's helpless stare and the drool trickling from her slack lips and the slow, languid way she pulled off her clothes proved her very, very right. "Maybe it's some other girl who's 'BeckiBitch6969', and maybe it's some other girl who posts all the time about how weak hypnosis makes her and how she can't even see a dildo without being compelled to hump it the way all those strangers online have conditioned her to. You tell me, Becky. Are you the kind of respectable young woman I can have dating my son, or are you the kind of needy slut who's sniffing around a rich family because she needs a sugar daddy to help scratch her naughty little itch?"
They both knew the answer already, but that didn't make it any easier on Becky when she found herself crawling helplessly up onto the kitchen island in nothing but her plain cotton socks to lower herself onto the fake cock with a grunt of strained, desperate ecstasy. She noticed that Marla's eyes glittered with more than mere triumph, that the older woman was watching her hump the sex toy with a kind of amused fascination that hit all of Becky's submissive hot buttons harder than they'd ever been hammered, but it didn't matter. She still wound up degrading herself all the same. "Well, I think we've answered that question, now haven't we?" Marla purred, and Becky's face contorted in anguished pleasure as she nodded in agreement.
"So, here's what will happen," Marla snarled, grabbing Becky's left nipple and pinching it tightly to ensure she had the younger woman's full attention. "My son will be back from his little shopping trip in four hours. You're going to break up with him then--make whatever excuses you like, tell him whatever you have to, but it is over between you. And next weekend, while his father is helping him forget his sorrows with a hunting trip or a fishing trip or whatever boring thing men do together, you're going to come back here and I'm going to give you what you truly need. What no boring little boy can give you. Does that sound good, Becki Bitch?" It wasn't that Becky didn't put up a fight that ultimately broke her. It was the fact that she didn't even stop humping the dildo while she helplessly, meekly agreed to Marla's terms.
(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!)
"You weren't thinking of leaving." From anybody else, it would have been a question, but the way Maura fixed Ashley's gaze with a piercing stare and intoned the words made it feel so much like a command that whatever thoughts Ashley did have simply evaporated out of her head like so much morning dew. She thought she might have been making some kind of hesitant plans to find her clothes and make her way out to her car, but that vague and notional supposition ran headlong into Maura's deep hazel eyes and got lost there, leaving her to shiver with arousal as her pulse began to quicken at the thought of being hypnotized again.
The thought led so rapidly to the reality that by the time Ashley responded, droning out, "I wasn't thinking of leaving," in a dazed and drowsy monotone that reminded her of the past day and two nights and all the pleasure that came with it, she was already in a light trance. Her eyelids began to droop and flutter, she leaned against the wall by the door to the guest bedroom in helpless lethargy, and her lips parted in a vacant, distracted reverie that she knew would make her easy prey for Maura's conditioning. Ashley hadn't been stripped of her will, not exactly, but the seductive blonde had a knack for making Ashley decide to give it up of her own accord and in some ways that was more dangerous.
"You want to stay a little while longer," Maura growled, getting so close that Ashley could feel the heat of the other woman's body against her bare skin before slowly, sensuously kissing her way down Ashley's breasts and belly until she was kneeling between Ashley's thighs. With a long, slow, sleepy blink that seemed to last for a tiny eternity, Ashley raised one leg and put it over Maura's shoulder to expose her pussy fully to the lips and tongue she already associated with mesmerizing pleasure, and whatever Ashley was thinking of doing was immediately replaced by a new plan. Getting eaten out by her new lover until she screamed with ecstasy. It was how she'd lost all of Saturday, and Sunday looked to be going the same way.
She heard herself whimper, "I w-wanna stay… a little--while! L-longer," the cracking exclamation wrung out of her by Maura's soul-suckingly intense cunnilingus, and Ashley's eyes rolled back in her head behind almost entirely closed eyelids as she found herself returning to that same dopey euphoria that made her such easy prey for Maura's hypnotic wiles. It didn't even feel like she was being controlled--it was more like everything Maura offered was so inviting, so erotically enticing, that Ashley's own judgment simply steamrolled itself to leave her putty in the seductive blonde's hands. She could already tell that if Maura wanted her to stay, she'd be sleeping in the guest bed tonight and driving to work tomorrow in the same clothes she wore on Friday.
Assuming Maura let her leave at all. That was an exhilarating fantasy, as frightening and exciting as being on the top hill of a rollercoaster, and even though Ashley was pretty sure Maura had a job to get to, same as her, it still thrilled her to imagine being trapped in this house by nothing more than the white-hot lust throbbing away in her pussy. She heard herself wail as her latest climax took hold, and then time became fuzzy and indistinct within the pleasant pink void of her surrender to that perfect tongue.
(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!)
