The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tessi had very few complaints about her marriage, but she did have one. She tried to focus on all the other things she liked about it, and all the other things she liked about her husband, in order to keep her mind off that one complaint. When she focused on it too long, it really started to get to her.

She was in her mid-30s, and she’d been married to her husband Matt for a while. Her red hair was shoulderlength, and curly— she kept it in the same style out of habit and had for years. When something suited her well, she saw no reason to change it. This logic extended to her marriage— as much of a nuisance as her primary complaint against her husband and their marriage was, apart from that one issue, she was entirely happy with him, and accepting of all other personal and marital flaws that were found both in him and between them in the way they related to each other. So she knew she would willingly choose to stay around and tolerate her one nuisance forever; and that she would make the same choice over and over. That didn’t make it any easier to stomach her complaint when she thought of it.

If she had left Matt, which she would never have dreamed of doing, because of her abiding loyalty, she might have had trouble finding a different partner. As accepting as she was of Matt, and as forgiving of his flaws that she was, he was the same way with her, and someone new and unknown would not be.

For one thing, Tessi was pretty shy. Even if she had left him, and was looking for someone else, it would be hard for her even to find anyone, because she found it so hard to even talk to strangers; found it so hard to even talk to new people. That meant it took her some time to come out of her shell, and actually learn to get along with new people. That had made it hard the last time she’d dated around seriously— a lot of guys had found her too boring in her pre-emerged state of shyness, that state of being curled up in her shell; she’d often had a hard time getting a second date. She was only older now, more set in her ways; she’d find it even harder to do it all over again.

Tessi was a little on the chubby side— that also might have made it hard to date new people again. She had C-cup breasts, but they didn’t stand out much from her body; she was heavy enough that they just seemed to kind of roll into all her other body fat.

She’d been slimmer in her youth, but over the course of many years of comfort and total acceptance, she’d let exercise routines and diet maintenance fall away, eventually arriving at her slightly too heavy weight.

She knew she wasn’t any kind of treat in the bedroom either. There was a very limited range of sexual acts that Tessi could tolerate— she could only really manage missionary intercourse, and even that she could only manage sporadically. To her, it was the only kind of sex that was normal. To her, it was the only kind of sex that was legitimate. Whatever anyone else thought on the subject of sex didn’t interest her— whatever anyone else considered to be sexual or not, equally fulfilling or not, made no impression on her. There was missionary intercourse— and for Tessi that was what sex was, all other definitions be damned. That was the normative thing, the normative function. Everything else was bizarre, abnormative, and so disgusting.

She couldn’t tolerate Matt touching her, stroking her by hand to orgasm, couldn’t tolerate even masturbating herself, could especially not tolerate Matt going down on her; and she could not tolerate going down on him, taking him in hand, or between breast. At earlier stages in their relationship, and then marriage, they had tried all these things to failure. Each attempt had ended with Tessi becoming disgusted to the point of nausea, forcing them to stop, lest she throw up in bed.

They had finally arrived at their basic sexual routine after all these failures. They had missionary intercourse on occasion, and that was it. They had tried, at first, having it every few days, and then once every week, but having it so routinely had started to disgust Tessi in its own way, so for fear of her losing her tolerance for the one sex act she could actually participate in, they’d cut their frequency of engagement way back, and now they just had it at random intervals, sometimes going weeks or months between couplings, depending on Tessi’s mood.

Matt was understanding of this quality in Tessi— that understanding would have been hard to find in any other partner. She knew it was hard on him, though— he craved sex badly, and often had to complete himself with his own hand, just to get relief. At first when he had assumed most of the responsibility for getting himself off and overseeing his own pleasure, he’d still tried to keep Tessi involved in his sex life by describing, somewhat sensually, his masturbation sessions— which porn, if any, he viewed as an aid, how he felt, how he touched, how it was. It had clearly been his hope that this might spark some genuine sexual hunger in Tessi— if she heard his descriptions enough, if he could still make her feel included in his pleasure, if his masturbation could be made to sound appealing enough— she just might want to become more sexually involved with him. She just might be able to, without being sick.

It had… stirred her, a little bit… at least enough to be curious about what it would be like if she were not so disgusted by all acts outside of missionary intercourse… at least enough to make her just wish— almost wish— that she could know what it was like to be without that disgust, to know what it would be like to enjoy and participate in a sex life that was lacking it.

But after only a few reports of this type by Matt, she’d found herself similarly disgusted to the point that she just couldn’t get past it, and he’d had to abandon this ritualized attempt at roundabout seduction. Then it had become an unspoken understanding between them: Matt took care of himself alone, out of sight, and kept all details of it, right up to and including the fact that he was doing it all, unspoken; and Tessi never commented on it either— and then they would have their kind of sex on those few occasions Tessi was able to. Even then she never enjoyed it much, though— and often looked forward to it being over while it was underway.

Although the closeness to Matt in the moment almost made it worth it— when the disgust wasn’t getting in the way— there was something so intimate there, something she could see in him but never touch, when they were close that way. She did enjoy that part of it at least.

She knew from the few times that Matt had described his solo sessions to her— and from the early attempts at failed adventurism they’d made together, that Matt’s primary craving was for blowjobs— they were his greatest sexual desire, his greatest hunger, his deepest craving, and the one thing that she could never give him. He’d told her on those few times he’d made his confessions to her. When he masturbated, he tried to make his hand as vice-like as he could so that it would almost feel like a mouth on him. He rubbed his hands together to create friction first, too, so he’d told— to make his hands warm enough from it that it would almost, almost, be like a mouth. He hungered for blowjobs above all other kinds of sex, but naturally, because they disgusted Tessi like all the rest, he never got them. This never seemed to dim his love for her, though. And it never seemed to cause much friction in their relationship. They’d arrived at a workable solution, and it was a stable, unchanging, unfailing solution. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

This very personal worked out solution would never have been replicable in any other relationship, Tessi was sure— they had worked so hard over the time they’d been married to make their marriage as successful as they could, and all that hard work put in had resulted in a situation that was livable, even often enjoyable, and this never could have been found with another person.

One of the things Tessi really valued about Matt the most was that he let her have her independence. That was also a rare trait. He let her have her own opinion on things— do things her way, do things alone when she wanted to. He was willing to adapt to her needs and her wants.

Tessi thought independence was one of the most important qualities a person could have— especially when that person was a woman. This belief was the underpinning to Tessi’s biggest pet peeve— she just hated dumb chicks, women of lesser intelligence who just laughed and relied on a man for everything as if they were children. She’d vowed long ago to never be anything like them in any of her relationships, before she’d ever even met Matt. She hated dumb chicks because they were too dependent, they needed other people to do everything for them, and Tessi thought women in the twenty-first century should be more independent than that.

Though she knew some men expected women to act dumber than they were, to be dependent and fawning. For some men, that was their exact type— another reason Tessi was glad she never had to go back out onto the dating scene again. She didn’t want to meet these kind of men, let alone date them, however briefly— and have to fight against those expectations. She’d dated a few men like that before Matt, though each of those relationships had been short lived.

And when she had finally met Matt, one of the things she’d most appreciated about him had been the way he let her do things for herself, made no assumptions or attempts to take things over and do them for her. He’d respected her intTessigence, had not wanted her to dumb herself down for him at all. That might be a rare quality to find if she were looking again— so Tessi was glad that she would never have to look again.

Really, if she thought about it, Matt was unique in every way. And because she was so in love with him, even after so many years of marriage, when she thought of him, each of his idiosyncrasies was enhanced to a quality of perfection. She loved him so much that he seemed so special to her, notable for each trait he had— irreplaceable, impossible to duplicate. By themselves, any one of his traits were not so special, but all together they made him up— and they were elevated by their presence in him.

He was in his mid-40s, older than her— they were separated in age by a decade. He was slim, so he looked a little funny beside her— one partner heavy and overweight, the other partner wiry and thin, like two opposites brought together. His hair was practically black it was so dark— any other man might have had these same qualities, but they seemed so well-executed by nature’s touch that they belonged to him. Or he was the crowning execution of these qualities that no other man could ever hope to equal or replicate.

So Tessi was in love, and on the whole comfortable with her life as it was. And yet she had her one marital complaint. It was her one frustration, the one thing she could not tolerate, the one thing that seemed to make the days drag and drag and irritate her so badly that at times it had her pulling at her hair in stress.

Matt ran a film review blog.

When she told people this, it was viewed as a very benign thing. She never shared her complaints outside her marriage— and she only occasionally spoke them within the marriage itself. But a film review blogging hobby should have been insignificant— shouldn’t have been such a recurring frustration for her. And yet she found it to be a very serious issue. It posed a lot of difficulties for her.

Because Matt was so invested in his blogging, he watched movies almost constantly— taking up all their free time with it. She was bored of watching so many movies. Tired of it. Often, they were movies she didn’t even like.

Tessi really didn’t like movies in the first place— she was the kind of person who preferred watching television drama series— something she could turn on for a half-hour or an hour, and then turn off again. Something she could put on and not worry about following too closely— something that was predictable, something where she knew exactly what she’d get out of it when she put it on. Sometimes, when she was watching a drama like this, if she was watching it alone and late at night, she would fall asleep with it on, and sleep through an episode or two. But even when this happened, she could just pick up by watching the episode she’d woken up to. She preferred things that didn’t require so much commitment or investment from viewers.

If she did have to watch movies though, she preferred that genre which Matt never reviewed: romantic comedies. She liked them for their lightheartedness. And as with her television dramas, she appreciated them for their ease of watching. It was always clear who the main character was, who the love interest was, and that they would end up together. And she could always trust there would be a happy ending, no matter what obstacles the heroine and her hero had to overcome. Those were the kind of stories Tessi liked to see— and the only movies she liked well enough to be motivated to sit down and watch something for ninety minutes or longer.

But they weren’t the kind of movies that Matt liked, and they weren’t the kind that he reviewed. Matt reviewed horror movies, and he reviewed superhero movies. That was it— and he was so dedicated to his passion that he insisted on watching movies practically every day, and if Tessi wanted to spend any time with him at all, that meant she had to watch his movies with him, just so she could be in his company. Otherwise she’d barely get to see him; they both worked all day. They only had evenings and weekends together, and Matt basically filled all this time with film viewings. It was wearing her out— she was getting exhausted by it.

Tessi didn’t like horror movies— they never had a happy ending, and they were too violent. She liked superhero movies even less. The plots were always so ridiculous and convoluted and fantastic; she found them impossible to follow and they bored her. The horror movies did bore her too, but it wasn’t so simple as boredom in their case— they disturbed her, disgusted her, frightened her, unsettled her. It wasn’t so simple as to say that they simple bored her, because they did a lot of other things to her too, and they often left her in a funk for days if she had to see one, especially if it was a particularly upsetting one.

The other problem was that the two of them only had one tv— so if Matt was using it to watch one of his movies, it meant that Tessi couldn’t use it to watch anything that she liked. She’d just started a series called Anne on Netflix, and she’d liked it a lot— found it charming, but she’d only been able to watch one episode, because the tv had been in use by Matt at every other opportunity after that.

Matt’s film reviewing hobby was her only complaint— she was at wit’s end with it— frustrated with it— going so crazy that sometimes she fantasized or dreamed of smashing the tv just so he couldn’t watch anything on it anymore, even if it meant she couldn’t either. She complained sometimes when Matt put a new movie on; but spaced her complaints out and made them sporadic. Apart from trying to just get through the situation as best she could, she really had no strategy, and for the most part she just had to put up with it.

Matt tolerated Tessi’s flaws and idiosyncrasies; she told herself that in turn she could tolerate this particularity of his, but it got so hard sometimes that she couldn’t even hold onto that. She felt that after so many years of loyal marriage and care she owed him this one act of self-sacrifice in return— and yet that still wasn’t often enough to motivate her into giving it. It certainly wasn’t enough to motivate her into giving it unbegrudgingly.

Tessi supposed one of her biggest frustrations about this hobby was that it was the first time that Matt disregarded her independence and forced things to be just his way. The first time in all their years together that he had ever been so inconsiderate— they were watching what he wanted, and that was it. There was no discussion— it was just decided by him for the both of them, and Tessi was just expected to shut up and go along with it like a good wife. What she wanted to do or what she liked didn’t matter, wasn’t considered at all. It made Tessi feel disrespected— but out of her loyalty, and even out of her love, Tessi felt that she still owed it to Matt to put up with the situation. Even though it did have her pulling at her hair from the stress.

Despite her sometime complaints, Matt largely seemed oblivious to the way she felt, because she was largely shielding him from the more intense aspects of her emotional response. He was so enjoying himself in his blogging hobby— at times that did make Tessi feel a little guilty. She’d rarely seen Matt have so much fun. And the first time he did, the first time he did something just for himself, she couldn’t support him? Couldn’t she at least give him this one showing of support— just this one thing, no matter how she felt about it?

The dependency of being the smiling supportive wife even in spite of her own complaints, though, did get to her. It drained her energy— she would just sit in front of Matt’s superhero movies with a flop on the couch, hanging there, waiting for the story to be over, zoning out and paying almost no attention to what was happening apart from noting moving colors and shapes on the screen. She could never follow the plots anyway— fell down plotholes and got lost there in their labyrinthine tunnels and never got out again. So it was just easier to give up on watching all together before she even started, even though that resulted in making her more bored than she was to begin with.

Matt’s blogging did afford him some perks, though, and he seemed to enjoy these as much as he enjoyed his hobby for its own sake, got the same amount of happiness from the side perks as from the main activity.

One of these perks was that the town’s cinemas often sent Matt fully paid passes to come to new film screenings so he could review their new releases; at least when he went to these alone, it left the tv unoccupied for a few hours and Tessi could finally get in some watching of her own after a long drought without it.

Matt received another one of these cinema invitations one evening, when he went out to check the mail, but it was a little different than the others. He thought it was strange enough that he showed it to Tessi.

It was a fully paid pass to a film screening, like many others he had received, but the invitation did not include the name of the film— only the time of the showing, and the location of the cinema. Also, it wasn’t a single, solitary pass— there were two there, and it said right there on the passes that all male invitees were required to bring a female guest with them— their wife, their girlfriend, or just a regular friend if they were single. It emphasized this several times, and stressed that if male attendees showed up alone, they would not be allowed to attend the screening, and they would be turned away at the door.

The invitation was for a showing scheduled the very next week. Because there were two passes, and because both passes stated their requirements in no uncertain terms right on themselves, Tessi knew Matt would expect her to attend with him. She had until now at least been spared of having to attend public screenings with him, though she’d had to sit through every single private one he’d ever put on for himself. Apparently that trend would end now. She put on her most supportive smile, resented herself for it, and told him when he asked her that she would go with him.

Between the times spent watching more private showings with Matt though, and between the time of receiving the invitation and actually attending, she tried to study to passes— on further inspections, no other information revealed itself, to Tessi’s disappointment. She couldn’t find any other information on the screening from outside sources, either, even when she looked online.

The night of the movie premiere came. It was a cool autumn night, the kind of night that felt like it would be memorable, just by because of its atmosphere. Tessi only felt bad that they were wasting such a chill twilit glow of a night on attending this cinema event.

She’d dressed that evening in a pair of blue jeans and a verdant green blouse, with a long beige coat on over top to keep away the chill. And as Matt looked at Tessi, he was giving her a look like he was committing this moment to memory. Or for some reason he was finding the atmosphere of the night as memorable as she was. No, not the atmosphere of the night— her— he was looking at her like she was the memorable thing, as if he would remember her looking this way in this outfit, dressed as she was, years from now— as if years from now he might be able to turn to her and ask if she remembered what she’d worn the night of the movie premiere, because he still would.

It gave Tessi a little buzz— she felt attractive. Her additional weight was forgotten— he was looking at her with a filmmaker’s eye, as if he could imagine framing her in a movie lens, or framing her between a rectangle made by his fingers, plotting the view of a lens before using one— he could not actually record her to film, but he seemed to be recording her in the same way into his mind, so she felt very much at that moment as if she were on-camera. She played to it, preening a little for him, giving a flip of her hair. She felt a little like a model for just that minute— she almost could forgive him for his film reviewing hobby. It was his love of film that had given him a film aficionado’s eye, the eye that was putting her on camera right now, even though there was nothing there to really capture her.

They moved further down the cement city block, and the magic of the moment passed. Again, Tessi felt it was a complete waste that they were spending this night going to the cinema— especially if Matt was going to look at her like that, especially if she could feel that attractive and beautiful in just her simple outfit of jeans and blouse and overcoat; a moment like the one that had just happened shouldn’t be wasted in a cinema, it should be taken out of the cinema, taken home or taken out on the town to see if it could become a whole hour, or an entire evening. A moment like that almost made Tessi feel that she wanted to initiate sex— and that, maybe, if that moment could just hang on long enough, she might actually be able to enjoy it this time, for the first time ever, instead of simply tolerating it.

But instead the moment had to be cut off so that the two of them could attend this stupid premiere. Tessi hated movies all over again, maybe even doubled her hatred of them, because the movie tonight was just one more of them, and it was going to be as boring and dumb and plotless as all the superhero ones, or maybe as upsetting and disturbing as the other horror ones. Only this one would be more offensive to Tessi than all the others, because this one was filling up their evening and preventing their night from becoming something else. Something else that followed along the same line as that moment of Matt looking at her. To Tessi, that was unforgivable.

She was already feeling so bored. “Matt, I really wish we didn’t have to go to this stupid thing,” she complained, as they got closer to the cinema.

“Please, Tessi,” he begged. “Please, please, please— don’t make it so I have to convince you all over again.”

She had agreed the first time he’d asked her, of course— but she’d frequently regretted that decision in the week since the invitation had been seen. She’d tried to renege on her agreement more than once, leading to dragging confrontations over the course of many hours in which Matt had talked her back into going with him.

She had just earlier that night declared definitively that she would not be going. Matt had spent the longest time of all begging and begging her to reconsider, and finally she’d caved and agreed to honor her first promise of attendance, despite her very strong desire not to.

“Please, Tessi,” Matt said again. “Don’t change your mind now. My invitation is only valid if I bring you— you know that, you read it yourself. Male viewers will only be admitted with a female plus one, their partner or wife or friend. This movie is especially made for female viewers like you— you know that too, it was also on the invitation. Just try to keep an open mind— you might like it more than you expect.”

Tessi had seen that on the invitation too— male viewers only admitted with plus one, and that the film was specially designed for women to enjoy. It had been advertised right there on the pass, advertised to an already swayed audience. She knew this was different than the other movies Matt usually got invited to see— a special event movie just for cinemas. That was why no other information had been released about it anywhere; that was why the movie had a secret title and a secret genre that no one knew. Because it had only been conceived for cinemas, and it was never going to come out to streaming or television.

Matt thought all of this was just the coolest thing— even though he’d only gotten this information off the backs of the invites themselves. It was almost sweet how excited he’d been all week long— had maybe made her a little sooner to cave when he’d made his pleas to her, but Tessi did not find any of this impressive herself.

The film company responsible for this event had been so secretive about it. They had conceived of the film as an event meant for adult women and the men that attended with them— and only for that demographic. They had not designed a film that was meant to appeal to any demographics outside of those two groups, or to as many demographics as possible, which in Tessi’s understanding was how a film company was supposed to maximize its profits. It seemed like they were acting against their own interests in doing that. It made no sense to her.

Tessi also found the invitation itself strange. It had no information on the movie itself, only the location of the theater and the time of the showing— and she still thought it was strange that the invitation had specified male attendees were to bring a female guest with them. It was especially strange that the invitation had specified the men would not be permitted to enter the theater if they didn’t have their required guest. She’d been thinking about it all week and it still didn’t make sense to her. It was a complete mystery.

Beyond the more mysterious elements at play, however, Tessi was just feeling plain grumpy about having to go in and attend. She didn’t feel like going to some unknown movie for adults. She didn’t want to see another horror movie, or a gruesome action movie, or a thriller, and the event movie tonight might easily belong to any one of those genres. She’d seen enough of them to last the rest of her life, and she’d still have to see more of them and their violence at home with Matt. She didn’t want to see another of them out here, tonight.

She wished she could be at home right now, watching Anne on Netflix. She wanted to be at home watching her own series, and if not for the stupid invitation, she could have been. If this had just been a regular showing of a regular movie, Matt would have been invited, would have gone alone, and she would have had the tv to herself all night long to watch as many episodes of Anne as she wanted. She resented that things had not turned out this way.

They made it into the cinema together, and went up to the usher in front of the event film’s theater.

“I brought my female guest as required,” Matt said, indicating Tessi. “This is my wife.”

The usher nodded once. “Very good. We wouldn’t have been able to admit you if you hadn’t. I’ll just need to see your passes.”

They each produced their passes as requested, and showed them to the usher. “You can go in. Just make sure you go to the bathroom before the film starts. It’s forbidden to leave the theater while it’s playing. Management wants this to be an immersive experience.”

“Thank you,” Matt said to the usher, and he took Tessi by the arm to lead her to their seats.

When they crossed the threshold of the theater, there was another usher standing at the door with a tray of drinks.

“These refreshments are free of charge,” she smiled at them. “Compliments of our cinema. They’re specialty non-alcoholic cocktails. Each guest gets one each. Enjoy it on us! We hope it will enhance your movie watching experience.”

The usher lifted the tray closer to them, passing it under their noses.

Tessi reached for one of the glasses on it at random, and so did Matt, but the usher then brushed their hands away, and pulled the tray back. “Please, allow me to serve you,” she said. She gripped one cocktail glass by its stem and passed it to Matt, then took the other, just as equivalent in size, by its stem, too, and passed it to Tessi.

Tessi looked into her glass— it was the most ridiculous neon shade of sparkly pink, which had Tessi wrinkling her nose in disgust. She liked her independence— she hated most things that were stereotypically feminine, that encouraged dependency, or self-infantilization for the sake of men’s pleasure, and in her experience most very pink things fell in this category. She was not really a soft and feminine person, and this was too soft for her— she was offended by the presence of this pink liquid, this pink cocktail. It repulsed her— she so hated pink in every way it was possible to hate something— and they expected her to want to drink this?

The usher had turned from them to serve the other attendees who were coming in behind them, but Tessi looked over to Matt to see what he thought of his drink.

His was not pink at all— it was a bright vibrant blue. “It’s the same shade of blue as a viagra pill,” Matt chuckled to himself. That joke was a little crass for Tessi, and she didn’t appreciate it all, but she ignored it to look ahead to the part of the audience she could see from her position at the theater doors.

She found that everyone had a drink— the only people who didn’t have drinks yet were the people coming in behind them, who hadn’t reached the usher yet— all the women had pink cocktails exactly like hers, and all the men had blue cocktails just like Matt’s.

Tessi resented the fact that the drinks seemed to be sex selective, and out of protest vowed to herself that she wouldn’t be drinking any of hers.

No one else seemed to have the same reservation— even Matt had taken a sip of his. Further into the theater, Tessi could see some people were only sipping at their cocktails, and some people were practically inhaling them. But everyone was drinking to some degree. It seemed to loosen the women up when they drank— they became a bit more light and airheaded, a little laughy, a little giggly, and it seemed to give the men some kind of determined drive— just a gleam in their eyes, but it was there.

Tessi considered the women around her, focusing on their expressions as they drank more. It was as if something in the backs of their minds had opened up, come out and entered into the forefront. As if some kind of absolute lust had been hidden inside them and then released with the inhibition lowering provided by the alcohol. It made her want to drink her own cocktail even less. Though she couldn’t help but feel a little curious— what would lust like that feel like…?

She chided herself for even wondering.

They walked past the usher’s station by the door; just past, there were several signs there, to remind the theatergoers to go to the bathroom before the movie— because during the screening it would be forbidden to exit the theater.

As they walked past the signs, Tessi thought that had to be because of spoilers— they wanted to prevent any possible spoilers from leaking while the showing was going on, didn’t want people who’d just seen some fresh plot development going out into the lobby and spreading it around before the film had even finished airing.

They continued walking together, Matt’s arm through hers, past the rows of seats and up the aisles to find their designated place to sit.

There were many critics present for the screening— Tessi recognized them because Matt had shown her photos before of some of the people who he considered to be his colleagues. Some of the critics were female, with a husband or partner by their side— some of them had brought female friends with them. And at least two lesbian couples were as well— Tessi knew they were lesbian because they were kissing each other while they waited for the film to come on.

Tessi thought it was disgusting for them to be doing so in public; disapproved of all public displays of affection of this kind. She didn’t like any kissing in public, no matter who was doing it. She never did it with Matt herself, and she wished everyone else would be as modest as she were.

Some of the critics were male, attending with their wives and girlfriends— like Matt.

They reached their seats. Once they were sitting, Tessi could take an even better look around, paying more attention to the surrounding details that she could see. The theater was filling up quickly— more people were still coming in, with their cocktails in hand.

More men who had brought their girlfriends, their friends— a lot of couples, those walking in and those already seated, were looking quite coupley together, for which Tessi judged them also, as much as she’d judged the lesbian couple for kissing.

She really did not believe in public displays of affection, and the more she was having to see them now, the more indignant they made her. She found public affection like this indecent, bordering on obscene— displays like this always tended to turn her stomach, but she was feeling particular disgusted by them today because so many of them were taking place around her.

In retrospect, even Matt taking her by the arm to lead her in had almost been too explicit, too affectionate, too immodest for them to do in a public space— it had been right on the borderline of what she could tolerate.

The two lesbian couples had ended up seated only a few rows ahead of where Tessi and Matt had ended up— they were two and three rows ahead of them, respectively.

A man came to stand in front of the movie screen. “Just a reminder that the film will be starting in five minutes. At the film’s start time, we won’t be showing it right away— I’ll have some remarks to share with you first, but this is your third reminder that it is forbidden to leave the theater for a bathroom break while the movie is playing. So anyone who has to go should go now before I start with my remarks, because once I officially start speaking, the showing will have officially started, and the doors will be locked until the movie is over. We’re very serious about this rule, so please abide by it.”

There were animated murmurs among the audience as they took in this information— many of the people who had just filed in filed back out again in search of the cinema’s bathrooms. There were enough different bathrooms in the building— Tessi had counted them out of boredom on the way in— that Tessi was sure there’d be enough room for everyone without any lines forming, and without anyone having to take longer than five minutes to get there and back before the showing’s official start time— and whatever speech that announcer man was going to make before the movie came on.

“I’m going to go,” Matt told Tessi, standing from his plush theater seat. Tessi was finding her own quite comfortable. “Do you want to come too? We could walk there together.”

Tessi shook her head, put her arms along both armrests— since Matt’s arm wasn’t on the armrest beside her anymore, and it seemed the person on her other side had temporarily vacated their seat also, to go on a bathroom break. She settled in and got more comfortable, half-reclining, and half-melting further into her seat. “I’m comfortable, and I don’t need to go. See you in a minute.”

Matt nodded. He’d drank most of his cocktail on the walk up to their seats, in less than the minute it had taken them to get up here, but there was still a little left in his glass. He downed the rest of it in one sip and set his empty cup in his chair’s cupholder— not the one shared with Tessi, but the one on the other side, and then left with the rest of the exodusing crowd.

Tessi still hadn’t drank any of hers, and she still had no intention to. It looked like everyone else’s glasses were empty, though— more drinks had been emptied into mouths and stomachs now. The room was full of dry glasses, because they’d been drunk to empty, and then in a lot of cases, it looked like people were licking them clean to get every trace of the liquid they’d contained. A little addictive for something that was supposed to be non-alcoholic, Tessi thought. She certainly wouldn’t be drinking any of her own.

It had seemed as though once the other guests started drinking, they could not stop under they’d drunk all. Tessi recalled the looks on faces that she’d seen from the door— that look of emerged lust, living inside it, totally consumed and run by it, that look that had made her almost curious— she wondered if there was something like that lurking even in the back of her own mind, waiting to emerge. It was as unsettling for Tessi as watching a despised horror movie to think so.

She sat staring at the darkened movie screen instead of at the strangely affected audience as she waited for Matt to come back. She hoped the movie wouldn’t be too long, and hoped too that the man’s speech preceding it wouldn’t be too long either. The longer it was, the longer she’d have to sit here and watch. The shorter it was the sooner she could be free to get out of here and do something else with her time.

Pretty soon Matt had returned, coming back inside the theater and then back to their seats. She watched him coming down from the entry doors. She slid her arms off both armrests, because her neighbor to the left was also back— a woman who was just a stranger to her. She couldn’t even tell if she was a critic, or the guest of a critic. Tessi had never seen her in any of the photos Matt had shown her.

Just around the same time that Matt was arriving back, the rest of the crowd was returning too. They all retook their seats, and the theater was completely full to capacity.

The lights came down— the telltale sound of locking doors could be heard, a distinctive clicking, and a single spotlight fell on the man who returned and stood in front of the screen once more.

He smiled out at the audience from within his spotlight, which illuminated every nuance of his smiling. He was looking out over the crowd from where he stood— he seemed able to see them all, even though he was isolated in the room’s only light source down there at the front, and all the rest of them were swamped in the darkness.

“It looks like everyone’s had their drink. I hope you all enjoyed them.”

There were murmurs of appreciation. Tessi’s suspicion was confirmed. Everyone had drank their drink completely— except her.

“It’s appropriate that you’ve all had a drink— tonight is like a celebration for us,” the man down in front said. “The movie you’re all about to see is really something special. It’s a special marketing initiative. We kept the title of the film secret, kept the genre a secret too, invited as many female critics as we could find, and required all you male critics to bring a female guest.

“This movie has been made with all of you as an intentional target audience. It’s been altered according to focus group feedback; and this is a limited run showing. It will never be released on dvd— it will never be released to any streaming service— it will only ever be shown in theaters, and we ask that all of you refrain from sharing any spoilers or leaking any plot information once you’ve seen it, in your reviews or otherwise. In reward for doing this, all the female viewers here tonight will be given a special present at the exit when the movie is over, at the same spot where you were given your drinks earlier. It’s a perk that’s unique to this press screening. When we open this film to the general public, they won’t be receiving a gift at the end of the showing.”

The announcer spoke on. This was already dragging on a little long for Tessi’s taste; no one else seemed to mind— they were all listening in fascination.

Tessi thought it was unusual of the cinema to offer a gift at the end of the showing— but she stopped thinking about it, just let herself listen to the announcer drone on. She felt like she was already sitting down in front of some annoying, boring superhero movie— already zoning out, just letting the sounds of it wash over her because she couldn’t bother to pay attention.

“This film is targeted to bring adult moviegoers back to theaters, to prevent cinemas like this one from dying out in response to the competition posed by tv and streaming— so we do hope you encourage other adult friends of yours to attend one of our other showings of this film while it’s still in theaters. We also hope you’ll all encourage your readers to attend in your reviews— but just don’t ruin the experience for them. We’ve kept so much under wraps; you’re our press screening, but so many other people have tried to get the scoop on this showing, and we’ve successfully withheld all information from the public so far without any leaks, and we’d like to keep it that way.”

As the man had spoken, Tessi had noticed a change in the audience. The women who had only seemed a little loopy before were now giggling at almost every other word the man said, as if they no longer understood language, and the men had more of that stiff look— if Tessi looked close enough, it looked like their cocks were straining in their slacks, having become erect and now standing firmly through the fabric. Clearly those cocktails had some kind of arousing affect. And it seemed the effect of the cocktails— the arousal in the men, the giggling in the women, only became more pronounced as time went on after they had been imbibed.

“We hope you enjoy this film as much as an orgasm,” the man said crudely, in a part of the speech that was obviously coming around to the concluding section.

This remark offended Tessi— but it only roused more giggles from the women in the audience, and the men seemed to respond favorably, too, hardening more as they sat in place.

It had seemed so clear, a moment before, why the audience had changed so much— but now Tessi didn’t think she could believe it anymore. No non-alcoholic cocktail could have an effect like that— the women here were just ditzy— she’d been lucky enough to end up in a room full of the kind of women that she hated, the kind who liked to be dependent and fawning— and that was all. They were silly, and they giggled and wavered in their seats as though dizzy. The fact that they’d had something to drink was irrelevant. This was just a theater full of silly women— and men with those strange looks in their eyes of total focus and commitment— there had been something else Tessi had noticed about them, but it didn’t seem important now. It was as irrelevant as the fact that the women had drank. Everyone in this room was the way they were because it was their nature— they’d been like this before coming in— it was only Tessi’s bad luck that she’d ended up closed in with a bunch of jerks.

The man in the spotlight frowned, distracted from the remainder of his remarks. “We’re just about ready to start the movie now— I’ve said everything I need to, but, miss?”

The man gestured into the audience. He was pointing back— Tessi turned and looked over the seat of her chair to see who he was pointing at, since he seemed to pointing back to the very farthest corner of the theater.

“Yes, miss, I’m pointing at you.”

Tessi faced forward again, indicating herself with her hand in surprise.

“Yes, you. Miss, is this there something wrong with your drink? I notice you’re the only one of our guests who hasn’t tried it yet. Why don’t you just take a little sip— just to sample it? You really should taste it, at least once. And if you really don’t like it after you’ve tried it and found out for yourself, I can send one of our ushers back up there to collect it from you.”

Everyone in the theater was suddenly staring at her. She felt the strain of all their eyes— felt strained by their glances; it made her feel so uncomfortable and self-conscious. The same way she felt when she had to meet new people and interact with them. A shy person like her hated to be the center of attention this way, so this was basically her worst nightmare. She just wanted it over with as soon as possible.

What the announcer had said had seemed fair enough to Tessi— she was a little reluctant because of the way she’d seen the rest of the audience react to their own drinks, but she’d also noticed that the first few sips they’d taken had had less of an effect on them than after they’d downed the entirety of the contents in the glass. She could just take the single sip— it would affect her a little, but not a lot, and she wouldn’t drink anymore after that. Just a little sip wouldn’t do any harm. She’d stop the drink from having its addictive effect, wouldn’t let herself down the entire thing in a single minute after that first sip.

She held the glass up as if in a toast to the man in the spotlight, then took the smallest sip possible in with a pull of her lips.

She was ready to raise her hand and tell the man she didn’t like it, ready to pass it off to the usher who had already come back to stand next to her.

But the second the drink touched her tongue, she forgot all about that plan. She didn’t want to like it— she really didn’t— but she thought it was the most delicious drink she’d ever tasted. So sweet but so satisfying but so bubbly— she’d never tasted anything like it and it just made her want to drink more and more— it would be risky to drink it— she’d have to drink it slowly— that way she could pace the effect it would have on her, and maybe if it was administered more slowly it wouldn’t affect her so extremely as the other audience members who’d practically downed their drinks in one sip.

But it was totally tasty. It was like having sparkles and rainbows exploding in her mouth, covering her tongue.

The man in the spotlight seemed satisfied, for he looked away from her. She was still thinking about how good her drink had tasted— had she just taken another sip without noticing?

The announcer called back up over the audience. “Roll film now,” he said, and then disappeared from the front of the theater.

Tessi reached for her cocktail again and was surprised. She didn’t know how it had happened but she’d drank her glass empty without noticing. So much for pacing herself— it had just tasted too wonderful to stop.

The good taste had aroused her— she noticed she felt the arousal she’d seen in the other women; the taste had filled her with a warm feeling, but when it had filled her with a warm feeling, it had also filled her bladder. Filled her bladder to capacity. She felt like she was bursting, at the same time as she was so turned on.

When combined with the fact that she had missed going to the bathroom before when she’d had the chance, it resulted in a pretty displeasing state of discomfort for her.

The movie was starting now, it was too late. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat again— she hadn’t peed in time, and now she couldn’t.

The theater screen came to life. The only thing Tessi could really do was sit there and watch as the action unfolded.

A young and very unattractive female scientist was seen at work in a lab, designing a special formula. There was a beaker of pink liquid with her— the thing she was working on, what the formula was needed for. Tessi started in surprise. That looked almost the same as the liquid that had once been inside the cocktail glass of each female audience member. The same as the liquid that had once been inside Tessi’s own cocktail glass.

Next, a self-experiment took place— the woman onscreen drank the pink liquid, then underwent a typical superhero transformation. Except this one was a little atypical— her breasts and ass ballooned out to become comically huge, and her hair changed to the same color of pink as the liquid of her drink.

It had only taken a moment— now she was a mutant, giggling so hard her breasts and ass jiggled— and she was dressed in a skin tight pink latex dress. It was so tight that her enormous pussy lips were completely visible through the front of the latex.

How infantilizing, how humiliating, how offensive! She was clearly a bimbo now— such a bimbo that it was her entire superhero identity. She was the bimbonic woman— Tessi thought it was the stupidest thing she’d ever seen. She’d had to sit through so many movies she considered to be stupid because Matt made her, but this one seemed like the stupidest of them all. She hated his film review hobby even more than before.

This transformation had shocked Tessi— surely, it had to have shocked the other female audience members out of their own giggly stupidity, she thought.

It was at this moment that the tile appeared, though it came as no surprise after that first scene that Tessi had just watched. A stupid title for a stupid film.

The title card read “Bimbonic Woman” in large superhero font.

Tessi stared at the screen— a little buzzed from her drink but still mostly feeling like herself. What kind of movie was this? And what kind of title was that? She hated it— that was so offensive to women, she thought. Why had she never heard about this movie before? Why had this movie even been made? What focus group approved this?

“What the fuck,” she said outloud— or something like it— she was finding it hard to concentrate— no other woman than her was protesting, which seemed odd to her. Apparently they were too dizzy— too aroused, clearly shimmying in place with that arousal in their seats— that lust that had emerged in their minds must still be fogging them out, because they couldn’t seem to organize their thoughts well enough to formulate protest. Maybe they couldn’t even organize their thoughts well enough to process what they’d just seen.

Her need to pee was no longer possible to ignore. It was an inconvenient time to feel it, but she couldn’t help that now.

She was full of anger, still outraged by the film and its title. They couldn’t be so serious about their bathroom rule— the movie had barely started, the opening credits hadn’t even played yet, since the film started with an inter-title sequence. Tessi stood and turned her back to the screen.

At that moment it seemed everyone in the audience’s eyes went wide and glazed. They were more quiet than usual, more swaying in place than they had been before, as if they had become even dizzier and could no longer keep themselves upright, keep themselves from spinning along with whatever they saw.

They all stared up at the screen in rapt attention— it had placed them under its spell. There were different looks on each face, depending on if the face belonged to a man or a woman— the men, who Tessi now noticed were visibly erect, only seemed to get more turned on, as if whatever they saw was slowly dialing their arousal up— and then their eyes became more vacant, as if the increase of their sexdrive were the cause of this. Sexdrive going up, thoughts of all but sex going doing, being removed slowly as they watched— it was so clear in their faces—

The women looked dizzier than the men, as if they were swirling around with whatever they were seeing, getting pulled into what they watched, becoming dizzier still as they went on watching. They all looked more confused than before— looked hornier too than they already had been.

The effect was stark, so much so that Tessi almost wanted to turn around and see what had so captured the attentions of her fellow audience, but she really had to pee now, and it would be better to just move down the row into the aisle, then up the aisle steps to that one set of cinema exit doors.

Still, as she walked past staring eyes… it was almost as if she could see a turning in them— something that… spiraled…

She made it to the aisle, and up to the exit door, but she never even got the chance to test if they were locked or not, because the man who’d given the speech before the movie stepped into her way and stopped her from reaching the doors.

“I’m sorry, miss, I’m afraid I can’t let you leave the theater now that the showing has started. Please return to your seat and enjoy our screening. You aren’t allowed to walk around while the movie is playing.”

“But— just for a minute! I really need to go to the bathroom.” Tessi protested.

The man shook his head stubbornly. “Once the film has come to an end. Then you can leave. And it wouldn’t do you any good even if I let you out now— we’re having a flush issue with all our toilets and we’re waiting for it be fixed. As soon as it’s repaired— and the repairs are happening right now— I’ll come and tell you, but until then, just watch the movie.”

Begrudgingly, Tessi agreed, and went back and sat down.

When Tessi sat back down in her seat, somehow the credits were still going on. She saw what had so enraptured the audience before; they were displaying a pink spiral overlay over all of their text, spinning— spinning— she felt her own eyes get lost in it, once she was settled back in her chair— and it felt so good she lost the grip of restraint that she’d held on her bladder— and she felt a little trickle out, but there was no shame in it— it just felt good to have the relief, and she let out a soft sigh as her eyes followed the spinning.

They followed— she felt herself becoming more aroused, but even still she could think thoughts distantly, even while the spiral held the forefront of her mind in its power. All the time it had taken for her to go back to the exit doors and talk with the manager— all the time that had passed, and yet the movie had barely progressed forward at all… just how long were these credits going to be…?

She tried to feel annoyed about it, but she couldn’t. The turning of the circular spiraling motion was just so soothing, so comforting— and the more she watched, the more turned on she felt—

She wondered, distantly, if Matt felt the same. Was the spiral relaxing him, like it was relaxing her? Was the spiral relaxing everyone else here, like it was relaxing her? She couldn’t check with everyone else, but she could check with Matt— she couldn’t seem to move yet, though— couldn’t lean over in her seat to be close to him and whisper, couldn’t move even to lean just to lean closer… it seemed like she could still speak though, so she could just speak from where she was— “Matt… how do you feel…?” Her voice sounded spacey when she heard herself.

Matt made no reply, but she thought she saw him shift out of the corner of her eye— his hand— he was moving his arm, and then— she felt his hand close over her right breast and begin kneading and squeezing it.

She was enough herself still that she was shocked— a display like this was completely indecent— and it sounded like Matt was almost grunting, or moaning in there, down the back of his throat— in time to the manipulations of his hand around her breastflesh where it was held in grip. This was indecent— this was wrong— they were in a public place, and she didn’t enjoy any kind of sexual contact, really, not even the form she could sometimes maybe half tolerate—

But her body was telling her that she was enjoying this. The spiral was telling her that too— it turned again, and all she could think of was how very horny she was— how good it would be if she drank the rest of her drink— everyone else had surely already finished theirs, and she was the only one running late, not finished yet— her body seemed able to move then, to raise her cup to her lips and swallow the rest down.

She was so much more turned on after that— leaned into Matt’s hand, thrusting herself forward onto it, making her breastflesh spill out around it, between his fingers. He kneaded more greedily— she felt so turned on— the pressure in her bladder was bearing down so much— she let herself relax, let a little more flow out to ease some of that tension.

The spiral stopped turning, and Tessi could move her eyes again. She also came back to herself— swatted Matt’s hand away— he seemed to come back a little too, and willingly withdrew.

Tessi could be aware of what was happening in the theater again— she was feeling confused and a little angry again now that she was back in her normal state of mind; she noticed a couple just down ahead of them. The woman in the couple was massaging the let out cock of her partner as they both looked up at the screen— the man moaned— seemed to be lit on fire by lust, and the woman had an empty expression— was dribbling drool down her chin.

Tessi felt shocked— not for the first time since coming in here, but she made no protestations aloud this time. Instead, she found herself letting out an escaping giggle.

Giggling made her feel dizzier— and she let out a little more pee accidentally. This time she could be aware of it as it happened, so this time, she was ashamed. She was grateful that she was already sitting— if she had still been walking, she would have been so dizzy it would have been hard to continue forwards.

Tessi looked away from the inappropriate couple back to the movie.

Onscreen, the big breasted bimbonic woman was still wearing her pink latex dress. She was on the prowl now for more recruits to bimbofy and enslave to her cause, that much was clear— she was looking for female recruits— Tessi giggled to herself. What kind of superheroine was this? The setup of this movie was just so absurd.

And that latex dress was still indecent— it could be seen, through its tightness, just how enlarged, just how huge and fat her pussy lips had become— they’d grown and expanded like the rest of her— but Tessi didn’t care about that, didn’t care about following the action— she was looking through the theater again. She kept finding things there that made her run back to the film— then the film offended her so much that she went back to looking in the audience.

She spotted both lesbian couples she had noticed before, two and three rows down from her respectively, coincidentally having been seated so closely to each other, and to her. That seemed almost funny— like something she might like to laugh at, but she shook her head— she would not laugh at this. She’d been laughing too much already.

Both of them seemed to be as inspired by the film as Matt had been a minute before when he’d groped her— they weren’t the only ones— there was a restless stirring in the theater, as if the arousal called forth and summoned by the spiral had lingered like some summoned spirit, and now it directed itself to move in many places— there were still hands groping in the dark, faces turned towards each other— like the two lesbian couples, many other couples were also kissing. Even some people who had come here as friends seemed to be kissing— but the two pairs of women were kissing the most lasciviously, making a real production of it, dramatizing it; slurping tongues, shifting mouths.

It disgusted Tessi to see, and she felt like herself again, whatever happened before having worn off— they were in public— it was indecent— things like this should not be seen in public, done in public; she felt nauseous— felt her stomach unsettle— and it seemed to her that her crotch was warm and sticky— still wet— though at that moment she suddenly couldn’t quite remember why—

She wished those two couples would stop kissing— she wished all the other couples would stop kissing; they all disgusted her equally, they were all breaking the rules of social decorum by making out so hot and heavy in a public place. Even the ones who had only been friends when they’d come in to attend together— and their friendship had been clear just from their body language, she remembered seeing some of them walk in together while she’d waited for Matt to come back from the bathroom— even they were making out heavily now—

She thought of the bathroom, of how Matt had gone to it before the show— it seemed to her she still had to pee, though somehow not quite as urgently as before, and not as much. She still wished she’d gone when she’d had the chance, wished she hadn’t left it to now and put herself in the situation— if only the flush… was that it, was that what had been wrong with the toilets that had kept her from getting to them? It seemed so fuzzy now… if only the flush had worked… and she could have gone and gotten out of this theater, not had to witness this mass makeout and pawing session.

She looked to her cup again, craving more of the drink, and saw it was empty though she didn’t remember drinking it; she didn’t remember looking at and seeing its emptiness before, either. If she had to be here, she didn’t want to see all the people around her behaving inappropriately. Maybe it wasn’t quite all of them— maybe it was only most, or even just some, but it still seemed like a lot.

Some people were not doing anything to each other, though— they were sitting in place, apparently paying very focused attention to what was still happening in the movie, to whatever it was that the Bimbonic Woman was doing now. Tessi decided she’d like that too— not because she wanted to see the movie, she still hated it and found it odious, but it was better than having to see the many people around her who were behaving so inappropriately. She had once again been driven back to the film by what was happening around her, after first being driven from the film by what was happening within it.

Now, onscreen, the bimbonic woman seemed to have found her target— she’d moved through many extras— and it had seemed strange to Tessi even when she’d seen them, that a big budget superhero movie had used such normal looking extras with such distinctive faces. None of them had looked like actors, however Z-list; they’d all looked like real, random people that it would be possible to meet out on the street, to find in the real world. They’d all skittered away from the Bimbonic woman, afraid of her, as she made her hunt.

Tessi disgustedly remembered the couple she’d seen— the woman petting the man— then the other wave of arousal that had seemed to pass through— she turned to Matt for the second time, but this time she couldn’t look at him— somehow, she was incapable of removing her eyes from the screen.

She opened her mouth to start telling Matt what she had seen before— when she’d still been able to free her eyes— it had only been a moment ago, but now she couldn’t anymore— she told him all about the petting couple, started telling him of the other lewd behavior she’d seen next— but Matt only reacted by grabbing Tessi’s left hand, and leading it the erect cock which was still tucked into his trousers. That jarred her enough to liberate her eyes— Matt was staring at the screen in fascination, and he had drool hanging from his mouth, too— Tessi snatched her hand back from his cock, replacing it at her side, and feeling not a little annoyed that her husband, who was usually so lovely and considerate of her sexual issues, had just made her so uncomfortable by doing that to her.

Yet now her eyes had gone back to the screen— and once again she could not stop watching it. There were other shifting sounds around her, but she could not look to check their source; it sounded almost like collective masturbation was going on— as if other men had had the impulse Matt had, to guide their guests’ or hosts’ hands to their cocks. There was a slick sound, too, as if the women were masturbating or being masturbated as well. Tessi pictured the women, one hand on their partners’ cocks, and one hand in their own pussies, teasing there. She heard a chorus of moans and giggles— moans from the men, giggles from the women— she remembered what she’d seen before, the arousal making the men more vacant— the giggles making the women more blank— imagined she could see it happening on each face now— even though her eyes had never left the screen.

She was too fascinated by the movie playing in front of her to even fully notice these impressions; she thought everyone else in the audience was probably feeling this way too, even though she could not give them more than a passing consideration.

She felt a rant bubbling up in her, and started speaking it— “Matthew,” she huffed— she only used his full name when was cross with him— “Matthew, this is the wrong place— a wrong place— we shouldn’t be here— it’s—“ but as soon as she started, she had already forgotten what she was angry about, and forgotten that she’d been angry even just a few seconds before that.

She tried to remember what had been bothering her. But action was taking place on the screen again, and it once more captivated her.

The Bimbonic woman had settled on a plain looking girl, now, and she’d cornered her into an otherwise empty abandoned building. The Bimbonic Woman was strong, it seemed, and she could be intimidating when she wanted to. The girl she’d backed into her place of entrapment was not strong, she was weak— and she didn’t quite understand what the Bimbonic Woman wanted to do with her, but she intuitively seemed to understand it would be nothing good, nothing she would want, and she was pleading with her not to— the Bimbonic woman wasn’t paying attention.

She’d left her pink latex dress on— it so matched her hair— but she slid her way out of its arms, and rolled the top down to hang bunched around her hips, so her entire upper body was naked and perfectly visible.

Tessi had been trying to remember her concerns and complaints. But when the Bimbonic woman took out her giant bimbo breasts— when she giggled dumbly just like that, as she did— Tessi completely forgot what she’d been trying to think about.

The protesting girl also fell silent, as soon as she saw the Bimbonic woman nude her upper body— Tessi understood why, and so did everyone else in the theater. All the sounds of frantic groping and masturbation had been silenced— Tessi knew with absolute certainty that every single set of eyes in the showing room was on the screen now watching— almost certain they were all thinking the same thought, as if they had been told to and were now doing it en masse— those were breasts— those huge, perfect, giant melons— the best that had ever been seen, the best ever to exist, and the cornered girl character must have been thinking the same too; they were so full, and heavy, and lickable. Tessi had never been remotely tempted by another woman’s breasts, all this kind of sexual interest was completely new to her, any kind of sexual interest was new to her, but she couldn’t help thinking it— they were lickable, there was no other description for it, and Tessi could even imagine herself licking them.

The Bimbonic woman was exercising her bimbonic powers in earnest now.

The normal woman that the Bimbonic woman had captured seemed to regain some of her focus. Now she locked shocked, as if even she couldn’t believe that the movie she was in was so campy and bad.

But the Bimbonic woman placed each hand on each of her hips, jutting her chest out more— the camera was catching it all. And the normal girl’s face shifted. Now she stared in fascination. Tessi understood this too— the Bimbonic woman’s breasts were fascinating.

The camera was showing the normal woman as she became transfixed. It was clear what was happening to her now— she was being hypnotized— hypnotized, looking wide-eyed, open-mouthed at the beautiful bimbonic breasts before her.

Somehow it seemed that seeing them was absorbing all her intTessigence, as she looked at them. Now she grinned dumbly, and started to drool, then undressed herself mindlessly.

Just then the camera shifted again to show what the woman had seen.

A shot of the bimbonic woman was shown. Her lovely, pink-haired head— her giggly smile— her deep blue eyes— then the camera returned to her giant breasts. And this time her nipples were clear, pink and erect.

A collective moan came out of the audience, perfectly synchronized; everyone around Tessi had seemed to tense— as if they had all just achieved simultaneous orgasm, all of them except for her.

She knew they had just second later— spurts of cum were erupting outwards everywhere— streaking through the air— some even hit Tessi in the face, which caused her to recoil.

This brought her back from her dizziness momentarily; she looked over again to Matt; he had his cock out— he shot his cum into Tessi’s face.

She had reached for his cock without thinking, even though he’d already had his release, but when she got there, she found another hand encircled around it and looked down in surprise. It wasn’t his own— the woman on the other side of Matt, a complete stranger he had never met before, had her hand around him and was jerking him hard and fast. She’d jerked him right to that orgasm that he’d sprayed in Tessi’s face. He had been so turned on by the movie that he had clearly been swimming in pre-cum, and now he was partially covered in the actual thing too. And the strange woman’s hand moved at slick, quick speed, and Matt groaned and thrusted forward off his seat as he kept watching the movie. The woman’s other hand was on her own partner, on her other side.

Then she released Matt— returned her hand between her legs to go back to masturbating herself, just as Tessi had imagined before— her impression had been right— Tessi felt rage sweep through her. How could Matt have let another woman touch him like that— let alone get him off? It was unacceptable— and she was angry at the woman, and yelled at her too— who did she think she was, masturbating a complete stranger, advancing on another woman’s husband, but she felt so dizzy again when she heard the giggling and inviting voice of the Bimbonic Woman. She was telling everyone to look at her sensual breasts.

Tessi felt disgusted still by how depraved this had all become— but reflexively, she looked back to the screen.

There they were, once again— those beautiful giant melons, the most beautiful ones that had ever been— certainly the most beautiful that Tessi had ever seen. And her nipples were even clearer in this shot.

They were huge, like her breasts themselves were, large and distended, so pink they almost matched the latex of the Bimbonic woman’s dress— and then there was a collective gasp. Over each nipple a pink spiral was now showing, swirling in its intoxicating pattern. Or where the nipples themselves the thing that spiraled?

The other girl on the screen whimpered, but she couldn’t look away— this must have been part of the Bimbonic woman’s powers, too— Tessi was suddenly invested in the crappy plot like she’d never been invested in anything… she wanted to know all the Bimbonic woman’s powers, see her use them— her nipples could put out spirals, could spiral themselves in place— the girl seemed to want to look away— she’d half-woken, and now it seemed she would only be put under again. It was clear she wanted to turn and escape, but she was caught by that hypnotic nipple swirling just as all the rest of them were.

Around and around the nipples went— it was a fascinating thing to see; relaxing to watch; funny too. Everyone let out a soft giggle together, and a kind of calm seemed to settle over the audience. Even Tessi, who still felt so angry inside, angry as hell, felt herself starting to calm down a bit.

Why had she even been mad in the first place? Then even that question slowly faded from her mind. She tried harder— pushing through the forgetting— her mind gave her answer— that was why she’d been angry, but it only made her even angry. She didn’t like to be angry, she thought sleepily… she liked it better to relax… and just look at those… pink… swirling… spirals… they made her calm, and so very, very wet.

Those pink nipples spiraled— things in the theater began to move again— the men in the theater were drooling more— drooling for the lovely heroine onscreen. The women where giggling more and masturbating furiously, losing their IQ in the process… masturbating as their minds slowed down more and more…

Tessi felt herself getting confused; and she was so horny now, but she was still wearing all her clothes.

Then all the women in the theater started to fully undress, and the men were doing it too. She noticed Matt was doing it too; only registering it in the distant recesses of her mind. She quietly protested this— but the spirals relaxed her so much she felt a very warm feeling in her pants again. She’d gotten so aroused and so relaxed that she’d automatically released her bladder and peed herself.

The shock of this reverberated through her mind to the deepest point, but she giggled more— it was funny to her that she’d wet herself.

Now she was so relaxed she wanted to undress herself… it seemed the Bimbonic woman’s boobs were planting this idea in her mind. But she wasn’t able to— she knew it would be wrong for… some reason… and she was too relaxed to even move.

Tessi felt a hand between her own legs, getting in past her waist, not caring that Tessi was still partially dressed— the neighbor on her other side, her left side, was reaching down to her; her leftside neighbor was a woman, and she moved through Tessi’s dampness— she still couldn’t quite remember why she was so damp, and the spirals told her not to worry about it— and stroked her folds, teased the opening of her cunt. She’d never been touched by another woman before— but she was so turned on it almost felt good—

She tried to shake herself out of it, but she couldn’t move. The spirals had immobilized her. Or, she could move— she could move as they directed to, but not of her own free will. She hadn’t been able to undress, but now the part of her that had prevented her was no longer in control. The spirals were. They were directing her right now to get her hand in between the other woman’s legs, to stroke as she was being stroked. She couldn’t stop it— didn’t want it— she felt enough like herself again to be sad about it, desperately sad about it, and she teared up, though she still couldn’t shake her head or move her body freely in any way. “Please,” she said. “Please, I don’t want this…”

The other woman only stroked her harder— there was new lubrication to wash over the dampness that had already been there— her body seemed to want it very much— it felt so good but it made her so upset— she didn’t— she didn’t like sex, she didn’t like being sexually adventurous, she didn’t like doing anything that was outside of her ordinary, that went beyond missionary sex with her husband— so she couldn’t understand why she was liking this, why even as she begged the other woman to stop, she was somehow relieved when she didn’t— somehow didn’t want her to— the spirals still spun, pinkly, they had hypnotized them all— they had hypnotized her too— but knowing that didn’t seem to lessen their effect at all.

At last the Bimbonic woman stopped their power, but the frotting in the audience didn’t stop when she stopped them. The other girl seemed sufficiently dazed, though, and the Bimbonic pulled her to her lips, and kissed her— swapping saliva with her that looked almost as pink as the liquid she had first drunk, which had transformed her— so maybe she was infecting her through it— or just subduing her, actually, it seemed. Because now she had a vial of the real stuff, and she was replacing her lips on the girls with that vial, holding her head, holding the vial, guiding her to drink it down, and the girl was just confused enough to do it.

Her hair seemed to be pinkening— her body was growing, but the Bimbonic woman didn’t wait for her to transform completely. This girl was going to be a sex slave— the intention, the outcome was clear— and clearly, the BW wouldn’t wait a single second before launching her newest recruit into the fullness of her destiny.

She shoved the girl down with both hands, down to her knees in front of her crotch. She’d rucked up her skirt, and now she shoved the girls face between her fat, puffed up pussylips. Mindlessly the other girl began to lick, even as the transformation still took hold in her— lick lick lick— all that Tessi could think was, fuck fuck fuck— how much she wanted to— how badly—

Everyone in the audience was thinking the same thing; they all started having sex with one another. Matt was fucking the girl to his right, pounding her hard as she gave a blowjob to her partner.

The other girl beside Tessi had taken her hand away— now one of the lesbians was crawling back to Tessi; she was the one to finally undress her, and Tessi could do nothing but let her— still crying a little, because her mind was still protesting the wrongness of all of this. She licked between Tessi’s legs for a while— then turned her attentions back to the girl on Tessi’s left, licked her instead.

Tessi settled in her seat again. Her hand was back in her lap, too; she touched a little, touching herself as she never did— Matt was free, too, from the attentions of the woman who was to his other side. He’d finished fucking her— now he turned to Tessi— looking about as mindless as the girl licking the Bimbonic woman out onscreen— even when the BW seemed to lubricate and gush arousal or orgasm down on the everlicking girl, it had a tinge of pinkness to it— that liquid did its job thoroughly it seemed—

Matt was turned to face her sideways— she was turned to face him— but both of them were still half watching the screen, listening to their bodies, which must have been saying the same thing— that they both needed to fuck— they both needed to fuck so bad—

Matt crawled over the divisor presented by the armrest, crowding Tessi on her seat— she was crouching— they were both naked, Matt because he’d undressed himself, Tessi because she’d been undressed by the lesbian— Tessi felt gratitude for that— and Matt was still naked— he thrust into Tessi and started fucking her in that precarious balancing position; and both of them half-kept an eye on the screen.

Other people were fucking this way too— as if they’d all been trained to do it; or they were masturbating each other, or kissing, or masturbating and kissing, and Tessi had never been fucked like this before. Like Matt was just a machine designed for sex, just a mindless rutting thing that would rut and rut and keep thrusting into her like this without thinking— it felt so good, but it disturbed her so much. This was not her husband. He didn’t even seem human; he was just fucking her so thoughtlessly, with an insatiable drive, irrefutable determination to just fuck and fuck and fuck— she almost wished something more hypnotic would happen in the movie— or that she had more liquid to drink, because this was so disturbing now that she wanted retreat into fantasy, wanted retreat in thoughtlessness to come take her away from the reality of this situation— yet she was thrusting with him, swiveling her hips as she crouched.

He’d fucked her back— her legs gave out and he was still fucking her, having fucked her back into the corner of her seat, and the plastic of the armrest’s side was hard against her back. She had one leg up, knee to her chest, and the other down and sprawled to the floor, and he had settled down onto her, fucking her so deeply he was hitting her cervix; the movie was playing on, the colors on the screen bathing his back, settling on his naked skin, but Tessi could still see what was happening because of how she was faced as he fucked her deep— as he fucked her deep and all she could do was moan.

The Bimbonic woman had pulled the other girl down with her to the floor, and the two of them were aggressively eating each other out now, as it seemed some other guests in the theater must surely be doing themselves— strange women who’d never met but had happened to sit next to each other— the two lesbian couples, because that one lesbian had gone back to her original seat— the male and female couples who’d come here together, if they were not fucking like Tessi and Matt were fucking— dear god, he was getting deep— Tessi felt her eyes were on the verge of rolling back into her head— she tried to maintain control of herself, but he was relentless— a giggle escaped her.

A giggle? Why had she giggled? Should she be laughing at such a time, when it seemed this fucking was doing something to her? The hip of the leg she had up was aching and she barely noticed— Matt was a mindless fucking machine— now he was the one swiveling as she held still and let him into her— and it only made her giggle again.

She had to fight now, really fight— maybe if she spoke she could reach him— if she could only remember the words, or find the ones that were right. “Matt— please— we need to— stop—”

She didn’t want him to stop; she let out a low, keening cry— he’d somehow shifted her again, just slightly to the side, but he pushed past where he’d been thrusting into before, found a high, far back upper corner, and Tessi cried out because it felt so much better to be penetrated there— so good, so happy, so fucky — where had that thought suddenly come from, it didn’t seem like her— it was fun and happy to think thoughts like that— so fun and happy she giggled again.

Something was seriously going wrong— she heard other giggles around her like an eerie, twisted chorus— she was not a giggler, but she found another giggle already rising to fill her chest— laughed and laughed— laughed and laughed… the more she laughed the less she seemed to want to think… that mindlessness she’d wished for before was here now. But now that it was, she had to fight it— the mindlessness that the recruit onscreen had been hypnotized into— that she was licking and being licked further into— seemed permanent— Tessi didn’t want to be permanently mindless, she understood that now— it seemed to have taken her so long, it was ridiculous to only be realizing it now, but she was. She didn’t want to be permanently mindless— didn’t want to become a giggling bimbo like the two on the screen— but the more she giggled, the more she got fucked, the more she became one.

She really had to stop this now— find some way out of the theater—

“Matt— not the fucking— please— not the bimbofying— I don’t want to be— eee eee eeee ahh— aghhh zuh— huh— huh ughg guh oooo…”

A string of nonsense! That seemed very bimbonic— so lost, so dumb and unintTessigent that she couldn’t even speak— she hated dumb chicks and always had— if she was so bimbonic that she couldn’t even speak, it meant she would be totally dependent, the one thing she hated most in the world, the one thing that was such an affront to her own sense of independence— she hated it— she hated it— she didn’t want to— but she was already laughing— sounding only like a giggling happy bimbo, seeming only like a giggling happy bimbo.

Matt was stroking in with his cock more feverishly, finally coming closer to achieving his orgasm, and Tessi was sweating and twitching on him, thrusting with him, moving roughly in response to his body; she was giggling more— she couldn’t remember what words were, or how to say them— that only made her want to giggle, so she did that— it felt so good just to do whatever she wanted to, and understand that everything was just going to be taken care of for her by whoever was smart enough to know the kinds of things a bimbo like her should be doing. Only nonsense fell out when she opened her mouth again, and then that nonsense repeatedly devolved into further laughter. She was filled with joy. She was so happy. She was a bimbo.

In the movie, a similar thing had happened. All of the Bimbonic woman’s victims had come to a similar fate— Tessi felt she could relate to them. They had all turned totally dumb, to the point of being incapable of language. Totally dumb bimbos with bimbo bodies, like the Bimbonic woman’s. They all wore pink crotchless catsuits; they fucked other people into being slaves just like then. Men became horny lust driven sexmaniacs— women became dumb ballooning bimbos who only giggled, and couldn’t speak anything but gibberish.

Everything in the theater was frenzy— somehow in the mass of movement, Matt had moved away— or she herself had moved away— she didn’t know how it had happened, but she was surrounded by strangers now, kneeling on the floor of some row of seats.

She didn’t know anything anymore, except that she wanted to fuck. Language still hadn’t come back to her— she could remember nothing, was entirely reduced to a giggling fucking bimbo ruled by her animal appetites.

There were strange men around her that she didn’t know— though she couldn’t say how she knew that she didn’t know them anymore, because her memory of ever being outside this theater was incredibly fuzzy. It was like she had not existed before she’d gotten here; her past seemed a complete blur.

She had one strange man in one hand— another stranger in the other, both her hands wrapped around cocks, working them, pumping them as she kneeled as sensed the sexual energy in the air that resulted from all the fucking going on around her. It turned her on to give handjobs because she was a bimbo— she’d learned that somewhere— she jerked and jerked the men she held, and they thrusted along with her jerking like the fuck machines they were, moving their hips in and out of the feelings she was giving them.

But apart from the arousal, she felt nothing— totally blank— she knew by the way she could feel her face sitting that her expression was as blank as the feeling inside her. To the men she was jerking, she must have looked completely bored; or brainless, either one— she didn’t care— she didn’t need to look like anything, didn’t need to feel anything and make it show on her face. She just had to keep jerking those men.

At some point they came— nothing flickered in her expression, nothing changed in either her expression or feeling, nothing different registered. She was aroused but blank— she was aroused but felt nothing about it, had no judgements, or opinions. She was enjoying her own arousal in the most basic, physical way, but there were no emotions to go with that.

The cum of both men shot under her hands; some of it stayed on her fingers, some of it shot past her, some of it hit her.

Then there was another man, also a stranger. She pushed her breasts together for him, and he thrust his cock between them. It felt good to have a cock moving their, against the sensitive flesh of her breasts, but still stoked no other feeling in her. She knew her face was as bored as when she’d been giving handjobs before. She was giving a great titjob— the man who was getting it from her was clearly enjoying himself— but still it made her feel nothing. He didn’t seem to mind her total lack of emotion as she fucked him, though— clearly, he’d become used to fucking blank, mindless, emotionless partners after being in this same theater as her for the past hour or so.

This man also achieved his orgasm— then there were others— there was always someone else to fuck, and Tessi always fucked them when they were there, with that same blank expression on her face.

The film wound down, and ended. Everyone got up, dressed themselves, again, and began filing out of the theater.

They were all different than they had been when they came in. The men of the audience were totally horny. The women were still all dumb as hell.

Tessi, dressed again in her wet trousers, walked with Matt back to the exit to receive her gift.

At the door, each one member of the audience was receiving their special attendance gift as promised.

It was that same announcer who had spoken first who was handing these gifts out and thanking everyone for attending. Tessie told him, when it was her turn “It was cool to wet myself! Eee hee hee eee! Now I just want to fuck my husband’s brain out at home.”

The announcer smiled at her in understanding, and gave her her present. A pink crotchless bimbo suit the very same as the ones worn by the Bimbonic woman’s recruits in the film. Tessi was so excited to have her own.

The announcer spoke up again. “Tomorrow, the effects will mostly have worn off on your husband, who, like the our other male audience, is still mostly normal, only just very aroused. Most of the effects you’ve experienced will also wear off by tomorrow— a few of them are long lasting, but the majority will go away again. For example, your intTessigence will return.”

Tessi had to really concentrate to understand the words— most of her mind could not make sense of them, but there was some part of her— very far back— that felt a great deal of relief. That part had truly believed the hypnosis she’d experienced was so powerful that it had permanently changed her, but it hadn’t— it had only been temporary— tomorrow she would be herself again— tomorrow, she would be smart again— that part of her, that truest part of her that had been shoved back far could stop worrying. She was happy to know that she hadn’t been permanently changed; happy to know that she could experience pleasure like she had today, mental peace and joy like this, and then still return back to her normal life and normal (or mostly normal) self afterwards.

All of that made sense to the pushed back part of her— the rest of her, the majority of her mind could make no sense of it at all.

But she didn’t need to worry about whatever it was the announcer had just said to her here at the door. Everything would be fine. Everything would work out.

Since most of Tessi could not understand what she’d just heard, she just nodded, and she and Matt and linked arms to walk out of the theater together. Outside, other audience members were chatting. No one seemed to remember what had happened in the movie— the men remembered parts in bits and pieces, but could not describe any exact scenes. They seemed to know that they’d had sex though— that they’d had sex, and loved it.

The women only remembered that watching the movie had been totally fun. Even Tessi thought so; the movie had been totally fun, and she would want to come back to see it again and again as long as it ran for. She knew the other women were thinking the same thing.

But she was happy to go home with Matt now, too.

There would be so much more fun that they could have there— they should get back as soon as possible. Maybe Tessi could even try the new pink latex crotchless suit on herself.