The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a quiet night at home for Brigid, giving rise to the same kind of boredom she’d become accustomed to in her everyday life.

She had been married to Dylan for some time; they had been married long before Tessi had ever married Matt. Dylan was her first love, and she’d never loved anyone before him. Never loved anyone other than him. And they’d been together a long time even before they’d ever been married.

Brigid was in her mid-30s, and Dylan was in his mid-40s. Maybe that was part of their problem; if they had both been the same age, they would have been peers. It would have given them some kind of starting point of connection. But they hadn’t had that advantage. About the only thing they had in common was that they were both dark-haired.

As a result, their marriage was passable; not intimate. In the early days of their relationship, long ago now, the jitters of early love had been what sustained them. That had been when Brigid was at the beginning of her 20s, and Dylan was the one in his early 30s.

But when the infatuation had passed, there hadn’t been much else left; without it between them, they didn’t have very much in common, and they had never properly taken the time to lay the foundation of trust that might have given them something more substantial than they had.

Brigid looked at her reflection in the windowpane; her dark hair bled into the shadows of the room behind her— only slightly disrupted by the lamp behind her. She was a brunette; and she was quite slim-bodied, so even her B-cup breasts looked larger than they were against the backdrop of her slender form.

She knew in the eyes of other people she was considered to be very sexy; but it meant less than nothing to her. She herself was quite shy; self-conscious, even self-ashamed; and as a result she tried, really tried to be a good and person to make up for what she saw as her fundamentally unforgivable qualities. In all her behavior, in her every choice, she tried her very hardest to be above reproach. She tried to be completely proper; tried to enact totally correct behavior, tried to be circumspect. She felt that she had so much to make up for.

Dylan had big glasses but saw nothing; Dylan was of a very average build and was average in most other ways too. His one variation from the norm was that he was a big fan of scifi, to the point of nerdiness. Dylan maintained the same weight constantly; never losing, never gaining. He kept nothing excess about his person no matter how much he sent down.

He had his glasses but never saw the state of their marriage for what it was; never saw why their sex life was as it was.

Dylan wanted sex; of any kind; intercourse, or oral.

Brigid never wanted to give sex, because she couldn’t trust a man she had no intimacy with and couldn’t have intimacy with a man she had no trust for. She was doubly bound that way— and she didn’t care anymore.

From the beginning she’d always had a kind of hangup about sex. She just had a complete disinterest in all things sexual; she had been able to tolerate basic vaginal intercourse to start with; just barely. She might have been able to expand beyond this limitation, but Dylan had never given her any motivation or inspiration to do so.

Of course, she kept her quasi-permanent estrangement from Dylan private from all her friends. From Tessi— she was probably closest to Tessi, but even this was something she couldn’t tell her. Tessi had known Brigid and Matt as a couple for so long. Back in the days she’d still been single, she’d often told them she saw their marriage as aspirational— a model for what she would want in her own marriage. Brigid had never quite felt able to shatter Tessi’s fond illusioned understanding of her and Dylan.

She couldn’t tell Lani, either. Lani was her one blonde friend; she was a little too fat around her hips. The rest of their friend group privately agreed it was so. They never had to say it out loud though, because Lani was always quick to comment on it herself. She could be quite self-critical about it. So none of her friends ever commented on it; they knew Lani was more than capable of covering it herself. Her one redeeming physical quality, in her own eyes, was her B-cup breasts.

Lani was single; and she was a lesbian. She was quite sexual, unlike Brigid; she probably wouldn’t ever have been able to conceptualize Brigid’s disinterest in sex. She never found herself in any kind of relationship; but she had a neverending array of sexual partners. She was sexually veryinterested in other girls.

But Lani would never understand the difficulties Brigid had with Dylan; it was a little harsh of Brigid to think so, but it seemed to her that Lani would never even understand reciprocal love at all, if Brigid’s suspicions about her were true. If what was between her and Dylan could even be called reciprocal at all.

Brigid was of the opinion that Lani was in love with Tessi; an opinion garnered just from the way that Lani tended to look at her, and behave in relation to her.

But Tessi was straight, and married, and it was never going to happen for Lani. Her greatest lifelong experience of love had been for a woman who would never even look at her the same way— and for a woman she would never even be able to tell because she was just too damn shy.

And Rowen, the last friend in the group that, apart from her, comprised Brigid, Tessi and Lani. She never would have understood either. She was a brat, plain and simple; she had a bitchy personality, and wasn’t very considerate of others. She was definitely the last person to go to for sympathy, understanding or advice.

She was single; a brunette, like Brigid— very small and petite, with breasts that were only A-cups and she was younger than them all; only in her early 20s. She loved sex; like Lani, but she was straight, and the only kind of sex she liked was intercourse.

Other kinds of sex besides basic heterosexual intercourse were valid, but not in Rowen’s eyes. She often talked at length about this, which Brigid considered to be a very regressive opinion. She had difficulty herself with sex that went beyond intercourse, but that didn’t mean she thought every other kind was invalid. It was also quite unkind of Rowen to share this opinion so freely, Brigid thought, when they had a sexually active lesbian amongst them.

Brigid often thought that Lani seemed to get a little down when Rowen went on one of these tangents; but that never deterred Rowen. She either never noticed, or never cared.

Apart from Rowen’s penchant for sex, she also had a penchant for substance abuse. Drinking; drugging; going from party to party on any given night and getting as messed up as she could. Sometimes she found someone to hook up with and fuck when she was in such a state. Rowen wasn’t almost more interested in getting high than she was in actually being a good friend.

So Brigid really had no one to turn to. She would just have to soldier on and tolerate her situation— the state of her marriage with Dylan. So distant and seemingly impossible to fix. Things between them wouldn’t be getting better anytime soon, and Brigid just had to accept it.

She looked past her reflection in the glass of the windowpane from where she was standing inside the front window. Instead she looked through it, looking outside the house she shared with Dylan. She looked up at that night’s moon, outside in the sky.

It had no answers for her, nor did it have any sympathy. It condemned her with the passage of time. It would set and the sun would rise and she’d have to face another day like all the rest. It condemned her on to the day that would follow; trapping her in the forward progression of time.

All the same, she wondered where Tessi was beneath it tonight.

It was night; earlier that evening Tessi and Matt had gone to the screening of Bimbonic Woman, but now they were driving home from the theater together. The whole night after they’d left the screening had been hot, and the drive home was no exception now.

They had both left the theater at the end of the film, and neither one were in their right minds. They’d messed around a little in the car while still in the parking lot, before Matt had started it up and started driving them home. But even now that they were driving, they couldn’t seem to stop. The moon was shining in through the windows of the car, and neither one of them even noticed it.

Tessi had shifted out of the passenger to be closer to Matt, and Matt was behind the wheel. The night slicked streets were passing them by unseen, as unnoticed as the moon above. There was a fire of arousal burning in both of them and it would be fed.

Tessi couldn’t keep her hands off Matt— she simply couldn’t. She didn’t want to, even if she had been able; didn’t want to take her hands off his body, didn’t want to be more than an inch separated from his body at any time.

She had been reduced to nothing but lust, nothing but an embodiment of attractiveness; ditziness; dumbness. She was only a combination of these qualities now, and nothing more.

And she’d never felt like this before, never done anything like it; it was dangerous. She had her seatbelt unbuckled— in case of accident, she would be unprotected, thrown from the car, and accident didn’t seem so unlikely right now. Matt was burning like her, and she was distracting him. He was struggling to keep his focus on the road, and even when he kept it there, he barely managed to keep their car from swerving.

She was in the space next to his seat— between her own seat and his own, lined up with the car radio console.

She faced toward his body as it faced forward for him to drive. She was grinding on him, and kissing— licking— slathering his face in saliva like a wild thing. She’d gotten her pussy pressed against his thigh just right. She was streaking his trousers there with her juices.

This was beyond any past pattern of behavior of hers. She simply had to have him, and couldn’t be without him. She needed to fuck. Matt was— his cock was everything she needed in the world and this drive was taking too long.

He nearly lost control of the car several times. Tessi never stopped when he did. She didn’t care if they died like this. It felt too good to stop, and it was worth risking her life for. Matt didn’t seem to have any objections to their mutual risk-taking behavior either.

Tessi kept kissing Matt; but as she kissed him more, her kisses became increasingly interrupted by giggles; she kept thinking, in a disjointed way, of having wet herself earlier that night. She couldn’t even remember it properly; but even the faint memory was enough to drive her to laughter. She’d wet herself— she was sure— and having wet herself was funny. It was just so funny to her simple mind.

At last they arrived home; wasted no time. Clothes were thoughtlessly shed, shred in the process. As Tessi undressed herself, she gigglingly removed her trousers, which were still wet. Then she moved into the shower, when Matt led her there— he was still erect. Harder, if possible, than he had been when he was driving the car.

In the shower, she kneeled down. She had to get to Matt’ cock. It went beyond a thought— it was an impulse, the only thing she was feeling at all.

When she did get to his cock, she put it into her mouth. Getting it in there was an achievement— the only thing she’d been building towards.

She could feel the porcelain of the tub resting against her knees. Here, there, anywhere it would be hot— this was just where Mattt had put her, but she was too stupid now to even decide something as simple as where to go or how to get there. She needed someone to guide her, to lead her to where she needed to be, to direct her to what she needed to do.

But she would have felt this wild desire anywhere in the house— wouldn’t have cared about decorum, wouldn’t even have remembered what it was. Any room in the house was for fucking when she felt like this; and she would follow Matt around the house if he wanted to fuck her through it.

She just wanted to fuck— she just wanted to fuck Matt, and she would follow his cock as if led by the nose, would follow it anywhere to be able to keep it in some part of her. Keep touching it.

Now she had it— and having it was such an all-encompassing experience, something that so thrilled her and filled her with joy that it was impossible to think of anything but cock, how it felt to be fucked by it. She wanted to keep getting fucked, wanted to get fucked harder; and more. It was in her mouth right now as she knelt. The pain the porcelain might have been causing against her knees was forgotten; ignored; the only sensation was the feeling of having her mouth stuffed full.

She was sucking him with her cheeks and swirling her tongue over him. She sucked him harder than she’d ever sucked anything, and made her jaw ache.

He was letting out moans that didn’t sound remotely human. He was giving sound to the animal feeling she herself had inside— she plunged her tongue down, starting a lick right from the base of his cock, further back in her throat and dragging it all along the lower side of his cock until she reached the ridge before his head again.

Then she swept her tongue around it once more; licked the topside of his cock messily for a brief moment, then swept back to licking his underside— licking the stretch directly under his head and down from it, making Matt twitch violently in her mouth— he was shaking in the shower as he was standing there.

Her eyes opened to look up at him around his cock and she saw his eyes were closed— he was leaning back— clinging to the shower rod with one hand; sagging back, and sending his cock deeper into her mouth— his face was contorted in pleasure; he looked as animal as he sounded; still groaning like a wild thing, like her— but the cock was still in her mouth— she couldn’t keep her eyes on him; the cock just felt too good, so good in fact that it was sending her eyes back into her head; rolling back; rolling back; only the undersides of them would be visible, the whites of them, would be visible to Matt— if he could have remembered to look, but it seemed he couldn’t.

She sucked him in harder, swirling him once more with her tongue. She got him all the way down her throat and kept him there. He seemed happy to be so seated in her, and she breathed around him, exhaling through her nostrils and re-inhaling again. She kept him in place. She kept him.

Then she let him back up. Plunged him down it again like he was food that she was desperate for; letting him come back up; plunging him down again— again— she couldn’t stop, it had become compulsive. She was plunging him in and out of her throat, as deep as he could go, as quickly as she could; again; bobbing her head on him; and the water was hot on her skin.

She was so turned on that in her right mind she wouldn’t have believed it. In this simple state she couldn’t even be self-aware enough to reflect on the feeling. It could only be felt; certainly couldn’t be compared to or held up against any other feeling she’d ever had. Her body was burning; the flames of passion had gotten out of control and they controlled her body, they could be felt everywhere in her, and the pounding of the water descended on her, with so much pressure it felt practically like it was indenting her— and that drove the flames to greater heat.

She was thrusting her whole body with the sucking, rocking back and forward in time with her bobbing, and rocking so hard she was grinding her dripping pussylips back over each other, making them slip over and over each other, driving her arousal up there too— she was dripping so much it was running off into the stream of water coming down on her; she sucked harder; harder; it felt like she managed to get him an inch further down her throat than he had ever been, and this time when she had him down there, she didn’t let him back up, but instead swallowed around him.

He let out a shriek of pleasure that was almost a scream; she knew her throat had been so tight around him, and swallowing around him had made her feel that her throat was stuffed and plugged to the point it might burst, she had swallowed so hard.

She swallowed again; he was practically vibrating in her column with suppressed release— she swallowed once more, and his pleasure burst forth— the food she had been trying to extract for him but which she had not realized or remembered until this moment of having it.

It spilled the rest of the way down her throat, on a straight line down from the depth he was already lodged at— she felt it hit her stomach and it felt so wonderful there. Her sucking had become ravenous, greedy, and he was coming so hard it must have hurt him; in fact it seemed he was almost trying to pull himself back from her at least slightly— just to lessen the intensity, but she wouldn’t let him go, couldn’t stand the idea of him separating from her at all— as in the car— not even an inch.

He spasmed violently still— she drank down all the jism that he had to give her; and even when he had stopped spilling in her, she kept working him in her throat for some minBrigids more; desperate for every last drop— desperate for him, for his closeness.

At last he pulled back— but he was still hard. She could not question this, or find it strange in any way. She was only glad that he was. She wanted to get fucked again.

He moved quickly to step out of the shower— and hauled her up just as fast, carrying her with strength that must have been stronger than his usual level, but which she also failed to notice. The running shower was forgotten— he carried her out of their bathroom to their bed, and tossed her across the bed— then rushed to put his body against her, and get his cock inside. He fucked her so hard he repeatedly jerked her bodily up the mattress; they twisted together— Matt on top— her on top— Matt on top— her on top— it was all a haze of fucking continuously with no discernible breaks.

They twisted so often that they fell off the bed— they fucked with just as much energy once they were on the floor, and there was nowhere farther to fall. Tessi was moving up on him convulsively— Matt was driving down compulsively into her.

They were streaked in profuse sweat and only making up more of it— streaking the wood floor with it and sliding across it— fucking front to front with someone flush against the floor, then fucking sideways on their sides— then Matt fucking Tessi on her stomach, and getting deeper into her— for which she could only beg more— back up— rolling— constantly; jerking back and forth roughly, so roughly, twitching and shaking together— the lust between them was uncontrollable and neither of them wanted it to stop.

The number of times that Matt came in Tessi were lost count of— not noticed— no matter how many times he did come, he had more come to give her, and she sucked it all up with her pussy, clenching on him and coming with him to pump him dry.

She was as greedy with her pussy as she had been with her mouth— and each successive orgasm that happened, though god only knew how many there had been in total, became more ecstatic than the one previous, so they were both being raised up to higher heights of pleasure; chasing releases together, orgasm the one thought in both their heads as they scrambled, fucking through the room.

The whole night was hot and wild like that. Both of them were wild things together— both her and Matt, just rutting. No matter how many times Tessi got him off, he seemed to have more orgasms to give her. They fucked half the night this way; fucking in Tessi’s pussy or in her mouth. They kept going until they had exhausted themselves.

Finally, it seemed neither of them had any pleasure left inside themselves to find; no more releases to give each other; no further sperm left in Matt’s balls, no lubrication left in Tessi’s cunt. They were both still twitching though— in brutal sensitivity. It hurt as Matt pulled out because she was still so sensitive.

Matt crawled into bed— Tessi realized she could hear the water, and even in such a dumb mental state, she thought to go into the bathroom. The water was ice cold— the length of time it had gone on running was unknowable.

Tessi turned it off, and crawled into bed after Matt— as exhausted as him.

And they both sank into a deep, sex-satisfied sleep at last, staying asleep, beyond the reach of anything that might try to wake them. Neither one of them had anything left to give.

The next morning, all the men who had attended the movie were finding the same thing. They had returned to normal; they felt like themselves again. They could remember both what had happened in the movie, and what had happened in the theater— and what had had happened for each one of them back in their own homes that night with their wives and girlfriends and friends; whichever one had been the case.

They were all also able to see how much the women they’d attended with had changed; but these changes didn’t bother them. It should perhaps have seemed strange to them; or the fact that it seemed completely normal, instead, should maybe have rung an alarm bell, but it didn’t. It only seemed totally ordinary that these women they knew so well had been so change. It didn’t bother a single one of them— they all tolerated it just fine. Beyond tolerated it— loved it even.

None of them suspected it was because of the movie itself— because it had hypnotized them in to tolerating these changes. They had been as changed as the women they knew— only none of them realized it; all they could think was how much they loved what had happened, and how the women they knew had changed; so they would all gladly keep the movie’s secret. They loved what had happened and would do anything to keep it a secret.

Since none of them would even have tried to spoil the film— as none of them had the desire to— none of them would have to find out the hard way that even if they had wanted to, they wouldn’t have been able. Their hypnotic programming would prevent them from doing it if they even tried.

So the next day, each man sat down to right his review of the film from the day before. All of these reviews were the same, though none of them were together to actually be able to compare them. They were all fantastic reviews, but each one failed to mention what had actually happened in the film itself; let alone what had happened in the theater that was showing it.

That same next day, the women who’d attended the screening had also all nearly gone back to normal. But unlike the men, none of them remembered what had happened during the movie, or in the cinema; each of them could only remember that they had loved the movie.

Each of the women were feeling more horny than normal; and each one found herself thinking positively of the possibility of experimenting sexually. And though they had otherwise gone back to normal, each of their minds remained simplified; their intelligent quotients had each dropped a little, and they were still a little giggly.

Like the men, none them could know just how much of an effect the movie had had on them.

The next morning, Tessi’s internal fire hadn’t gone away. It was just burning hotter. She could barely remember the night before, but knew such powerful arousal within herself was not typical. When she woke up, she noticed this atypicality right away, and lay in bed, reflecting it— prodding at it experimentally to try and test it.

Matt had already gotten up. Like the rest of the other male theatergoers that morning— like they were all synchronized to the same time, set like watches. He felt like himself again after the wildness of last night. He remembered clearly how hot a night it had been— it was a fond memory, passing the night with Tessi. He remembered, equally well, that Tessi had acted dumb and loved the sex.

He sat down to write his review of the film they’d seen at the special screening, but he made sure to keep all spoilers out of it, made sure to conceal what had actually occurred within the film’s story.

When the review was finished, and Matt was ready to get on with his day, he got up from his desk again to set the breakfast table.

At the same time, Tessi finally got up out of bed. She’d been lying awake for some time, feeling the arousal burning within her— trying to make sense of it. She had finally given up and decided to go out into the rest of the house.

She almost felt like normal again, apart from her simmering arousal. Only she still couldn’t remember anything from the night before— and she thought there was almost something a bit altered about her mind, though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. She couldn’t seem to think in complex concepts anymore— but she couldn’t concentrate on this inability either. It kept slipping away from her forgotten.

All that she could remember was that the movie they’d seen yesterday had been a great movie that she’d really enjoyed; but she really could not remember much.

She reflected on the state of her mind again. Everything had to be in simple binaries, simple terms for her to understand— she could understand that now because it was a simple explanation. And now it seemed to her as she sat down to breakfast with her husband, her mind was numbing— only slightly, but it was— she couldn’t feel with such intensity anymore.

Throughout their breakfast meal, Tessi found herself giggling at random intervals. She never knew why; and her arousal was still simmering in her. She felt just a bit horny all the time; from minBrigid to minBrigid, from second to second. It was always there in her.

As she ate, her hunger for sex seemed to eclipse her hunger for food. After long enough, Tessi had lost all interest in eating her food. She only wanted Matthew again.

Tessi swept their food off the breakfast table to get to him— sending their plates to shatter on the floor, and sending their food to streak all across the kitchen tile.

She was hot for her husband; wanted fucking. She could not hardly remember the night before, but an idea was coming to her as if she were thinking it for the first time. Whether she was, or not, she couldn’t know— but it seemed true. She would fuck Matt anywhere in the house, even here. She would fuck Matt everywhere in the house. She would fuck him outside in the backyard, out front on their porch steps— on their walkway. Anywhere and everywhere she could get him, but especially here, because it was the nearest surface to them in that moment.

She pulled him with her hands, getting him out up out of his chair. Then she climbed on the table with a hop, and pulled Matt to her, fisting in his shirt, getting his fly open, his boxers, pulling him up under her skirt— realizing only then she had not bothered to put on underwear that morning.

She pulled him inside her, and fucked energetically right there on the table; sitting, with him standing ahead. This was one more thing she would never even have thought of doing before.

She sucked him in with her pussy again when he drew back— she would follow Matt anywhere he went just to be near his cock because it felt— oh— like this; he was so thick inside her that it stretched, especially when she was sitting on the edge of the kitchen table; she swiveled her hips continuously as he drove her— she was sore there— maybe they had fucked last night and that was what she was forgetting, but the soreness only made it feel better. She was streaking down all over him, making him so slick and slippery as he entered into her— streaking so much that it was getting all over the surface of the table— spilling everywhere— spilling— so much moisture, getting under her— her body was slipping on her own juices as she kept moving on Matt, and kept making him— and herself wetter.

He came— she came— he came— she came again— she hugged her arms around him to pull him flush against the back of her channel; she came first that time, starting clenching on him, and clenching until his cock gave out and spilled into her again. She was able to think a bit— he shouldn’t be able to so continuously orgasm; shouldn’t have so much come inside to put in her body, but he seemed an endless font of it— and she shouldn’t have had so much lubrication to give out— all that she had spilled should have long since dehydrated her, but that limit was never reached. He had more sperm to spill; she had more lubrication to drip; so she kept fucking him sitting up—

Then he pushed her back, and spread himself over her, fucking her lying on the table now; hammering into her and making the table creak— her body was shaking from the force. She could feel her breasts jiggling— to the point of stimulation— she came again— so did he—

Time blurred away; he flipped her onto her stomach— then onto her back— then sat her up kneeling on the table— put her down onto all fours and fucked her like that, kneeling on the table like that— the table creaked under their weight.

At last they were done; each equally spent; they redressed themselves, and Tessi considered the breakfast dishes which had fallen onto the floor and broken against it. She had not even heard them when they’d smashed— had forgotten they were there all the time that they’d been fucking. She only remembered them now as she saw them— and crouched down to clean them up.

After their breakfast fucking, and after Tessi had finished their kitchen’s cleanup, they both went to work for the day.

Usually Tessi enjoyed her job very much, but that day, for some reason— somehow, and she didn’t understand how it could be the case, but it was— she found herself becoming incredibly bored with her job, which she usually loved.

She worked at a hotel, at the reception desk; and today she was being sweeter than usual to each visitor that passed by the desk, either to check in or check-out; it was clear to her, though she had no direct interaction with them that day, that the management of the hotel, who were generally around the premises and seemed to pay special attention to her each time they passed by— it was clear that they preferred this sweeter side of her. Normally she was only polite; some days, if she was tired or otherwise grumpy, then she was tersely polite.

But even though management and the guests themselves might have preferred Tessi’s newfound sweeter demeanor, Tessi herself thought nothing of it. It came naturally to her now, happened without her intervention, but inside she wasn’t feeling sweet. She used the computer between checkins and checkouts, but using the computer only seemed to bore her further.

She was using it to do basic hotel upkeep tasks; inventory and other tasks that were its like. But today she was making frequent mistakes.

Even simple data entry and verification sometimes presented challenges; even simple tasks sometimes took on more complex aspects, and whenever this happened, Tessi’s mind couldn’t quite handle it; when a challenge stepped beyond the simple binary her mind could understand, when it left the realm of simplicity, she was lost. Her mind simply couldn’t seem to function that way anymore, and this led to mistake, which became more frequent as her shift continued on.

Having made so many mistakes that day, and having been so often bored out of her mind, Tessi was glad to get back home at day’s end. The entire trip back to the house she was happy and eager to return.

But when she arrived home she noticed a catsuit was out and lain across the hall table just inside the door. She had been standing in the entryway of the door just staring in the general direction of the catsuit. So when she actually registered it, she realized she’d already been staring at it for some time before realizing.

She had the vague feeling she had seen it before— but she could not place when that might have been.

She looked more closely at the catsuit— it was totally crotchless, and when she noticed that, she was disgusted by such obvious depravity.

She couldn’t just leave such a disgusting and offensive piece of clothing sitting out like this. She picked it up and carried it into the bedroom; then hung it in her wardrobe.

Once she’d gotten it onto the wardrobe rack, but before she could close the doors of the wardrobe, she noticed a piece of paper fluttering down to the ground, having emerged somewhere from within the folds of the catsuit.

She bent down, and picked it up, retrieving it; then swung the wardrobe doors closed. Then she looked down to the paper in her hand.

It was a letter from the cinema, announcing that they were searching for female employees to help out at screenings of Bimbonic Woman. The telephone number of the cinema was right on it.

It sounded interesting to her— but she already had a job and didn’t need another. So she threw the letter out and forgot all about it.

On the day which followed, she had some free time. It was a booked day off which she’d scheduled some time ago. Matt was not as lucky; he still had to go to work that day as she stayed home.

Once he’d left, Tessi sat down in front of the tv to watch her favorite series on it. She was home alone; so she had the tv to herself for once, and would not have to watch one of Matt’s movies, which she usually hated. At times like this she always watched Anne— it was the only time she could watch it— the only time the tv was free.

She was excited as the show came on. It was her favorite show after all; but after only watching it for a few minBrigids, she felt herself becoming dissatisfied again. It was actually boring her. The show just wasn’t sexy enough— there was no sex in it at all, nothing remotely arousing, and that was what she realized she really wanted to see. The arousal had never stopped simmering within her. Its flame had never stopped burning inside. It had never been extinguished.

Still feeling bored with the show, she finally turned it off. A few boring minBrigids like that had been more than enough of a fair shot. The show didn’t deserve any more of her time.

She turned the tv off completely, instead of just closing Netflix and turning off the show itself. Then she took out her smartphone, and launched a search on it for porn videos.

She never watched porn normally— truly, never. But now, she found some: just simple, rough fucking, so rough it seemed almost animal— mindless— and similarly mindless to the people fucking on her phone screen, Tessi started masturbating herself along with the video as it played. She barely noticed that she was doing it, but that circling touch set her mind at ease. It relaxed her there, and created enough space for a bit of memory to come in— and as she masturbated, she remembered the cinema’s job offer. She stood up, walked out of the living room to make the call— masturbated as she walked, seeing the porn still playing from the corner of her eye.

Then she stopped masturbating and stopped watching to dial the number of the cinema; she didn’t think much about it at all as she carried the action through.

On the other end of the line, the man who picked up sounded familiar to her. Had he— perhaps— been the one who had presented the film to them last night? Their screening’s master of ceremonies? That sounded right to her.

“Hello,” he said. “How can I help you?”

Tessi felt immediately confused when prompted. She realized she didn’t have any idea why she had called him.

“Who’s calling?” The presenter asked, as she still hadn’t said anything.

“Tessi,” Tessi provided. Her confusion did not allow her to say anything more than that.

“Well, Tessi,” the presenter said. “I would love to offer you a job. You’ll love it, I promise you, and I’ll take complete care of your current job; terminate it for you and everything. You won’t have to lift a finger; or a hand. All you’ll have to do is come to the theater tonight for another test screening. We’ll invite your husband, as well; but you don’t need to do anything to make any of this happen. My team, and myself— we’ll handle everything.”

The presenter seemed to know her; know everything about her, just from her name. As if he had some kind of file on her. It was a bit frightening. But she was speechless for just that moment.

“If you agree, you’ll be picked up by a taxi in the late afternoon.”

Tessi put no thought into the offer at all. She was already saying, “Yes, I accept your offer,” before she even realized she’d started to speak.

“Wear the catsuit you received when you come this afternoon,” the presenter ordered.

This order was annoying to her— she hated that disgusting catsuit, that awful piece of clothing. But the presenter’s voice had been calming when he spoke. And even now that he was silent, his voice was still echoing in her mind— calming— calming— and it made her forget about all of her worries.

The presenter hung up without saying goodbye. And after the call was ended, Tessi found herself getting so excited about her new job opportunity.

She looked over at the clock, and noticed that the afternoon was nearing. She went to take a shower to get ready for the test screening— she was sure there would be a job interview afterwards, to make sure she was right for the position. The presenter hadn’t said as much, but surely it would happen, and she would need to be ready for that too.

She tried to take a shower— thinking only of making herself clean. She tried, and failed. The water was so hot on her skin. And the sensation of it just made her feel good— there was something familiar about it, a near memory, and that only increased her enthusiasm.

It wasn’t right— she didn’t do things like that, didn’t masturbate in the shower— She tried, but in the end, she failed. She was so turned on she couldn’t stand it. She started touching herself— she didn’t know why but it seemed natural that she should be masturbating in the shower. Flashes of fucking in the shower came to her but she couldn’t place them. Couldn’t think of when these flashes of memories had taken place— but it made sense to be in the shower, masturbating, self-fucking or otherwise belonged here.

She leaned to the side, against the tiled wall— ran her hand along her slit eagerly— the water made her body feel so good, and she shimmied into the feeling, somehow feeling as if she’d moved herself even closer to herself— gotten her hand deeper into her slit somehow. It seemed like the pleasure was confusing her mind.

She turned— standing with her back to the wall— slipping with the water into a partly reclined position, letting the wall support her back entirely, jutting her pussy out to make it more easily accessible to her on hand. She worked her slit harder, bringing her other hand to pinch her clit. She pinched it— she pinched it— it wasn’t enough— she flicked it from all side— a flick on this side, then this one, then that one, from underneath— ploughing her slit and now fully tugging her clit back and forth roughly. Her knees were shaking but it still wasn’t enough. She stuck two fingers inside and kept tugging, but her orgasm was eluding her.

She let out a groan of frustration— the lust was naked in her voice even if for now it was being thwarted.

She looked up at the shower on the wall— saw the removable shower head— she’d never thought of it before but the pleasure had her thinking fast, spurred on by her own desperation. She needed to come. It wasn’t optional. She needed to and needed to do it as soon as possible. She stopped the hand that was tugging on her clit and reached up for the shower head to take it down.

She got it off of the wall. When she had it in her hand, she pointed the erupting water pressure emanating from it at herself— pointed it straight at her clit— and the water pounded her— the water pressure in their house was incredible so it felt like the water was shooting her body back into the wall— pinning her like a lover and spreading her open— driving into her clit like thousands of tiny needles— but it didn’t hurt— it was just so many tiny points of pressure that, in receiving them all at once, created the impression of some great force driving her. It felt incredible.

She’d started coming before she’d even registered it. Her clit was being pounded with water— the inner skin of her labia was getting it everywhere— the ring of her opening— there was nowhere the water was not touching her, and she was already coming but it was only starting— this was going to be rough— this was going to hurt—

The orgasm had started— it continued— it was only building on itself in its own release. The release should have let it out, stopped it, but it was only growing and becoming more intense; she couldn’t do anything but twitch and spasm; and she was spasming hard, and it still didn’t feel like the orgasm was half-finished with her—

She had to start screaming to let some of the pressure out, but the orgasm only increased— it sank down heavily into her body, tugging at deeper places in her, repositioning them, setting them on new plateaus that only melted back into further pleasure— she was still screaming— the hand holding the shower head so it could keep the water hitting her was shaking now— it slipped out and clattered in the tub against the porcelain— and she was still coming— she pressed her hands flush against the tile, thrust her pussy out, threw her head back enough to hit on the wall— came— came— oh god she was coming so hard it HURT— screamed— the scream died down— the clenching eased up— at last she was able to stand again, even if she was standing on shaky legs.

She bent down— feeling more sore than ever— and picked up the dropped shower head. She lifted it and hooked it back onto its support on the wall. Shivered once more under the water— felt an aftertaste of fresh pleasure— then finally turned the water off, and stepped out of the shower.

Once out of the shower, she went back into her bedroom, and got the catsuit out of her wardrobe to try it on.

It was pink; it fit well, but her breasts were too small to fill it out. And her pussy was cold in the air that touched it through the crotchless crotch of the suit.

She looked at the gaping breast cups of the catsuit again— a bit disappointed she didn’t have enough to hold them up. But she didn’t have very long to regret this. Downstairs the doorbell was already ringing, announcing the arrival of the cab that would take her to the cinema. Had she really taken so long in the shower? She must have masturbated longer than she’d thought.

She went back out into the main area of the house. She took her long beige coat down from the hook next to the door, and used it to cover her very sexy and very revealing catsuit. It was so revealing that it opened her body up to all eyes— even though it covered a good portion of her skin, apart from its crotchless section, it hugged her so tightly, apart from her breasts, that it made her seem naked even when it was on. But now her coat was hiding all that; and wearing it, she went outside to the cab.

The driver of the cab was quite handsome, and he had waited patiently for her; when she approached the cab, he offered her the backseat.

When Tessi was sitting in it, she noticed that some champagne had been waiting for her too.

She didn’t want to drink it; there was definitely going to be a job interview after the screening— and she wanted to be fit for it, not drunk.

The driver sensed her reluctance; and calmed down her nerves. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Just drink it. It will help you relax so you can give your very best performance.”

That made a lot of sense to Tessi, so she drank the champagne after all.

It went to her head immediately— it had been drugged, she realized too late. But everything was getting blurry now, and she was slowly sinking into unconsciousness; passing out slowly; and simultaneously becoming excited in response to the dizziness that was overtaking her.

The more dizziness and confusion she felt, the wetter and more aroused she became.

She fought weakly; fighting at the unconsciousness, fighting at the arousal; it was such a strange feeling— strange that this was happening to her— and somehow… again she couldn’t quite pinpoint why, it was frightening to her. But she was, in the end, powerless against it; at the end of all this weak fighting, she came, and then finally passed out, falling totally unconscious.

When she awoke, the taxi was just arriving at the cinema. Tessi couldn’t remember why she’d passed out— but she felt the wetness between her legs, and when she looked down, saw a wet spot on her coat.

She hoped no one would see it— and left the cab to quickly hurry inside.

The presenter welcomed her there— she recognized his voice from the phone, and his face also seemed familiar. He had definitely been the one that had presented their screening yesterday. She couldn’t remember anything else about it, but now that she saw him, she remembered he had been there. Remembered him.

There were a lot of other women there, inside in the lobby; they all looked familiar to her too. Like seeing the presenter, seeing them unlocked more memory for her: she had seen all these women the day before at the movie screening.

Some of them were wearing coats like her; but others were only dressed in their pink catsuits, like the one she had on underneath— seeing them dressed this way made her uncomfortable.

“Take your coat to the coat check’s wardrobe and hang it up, please.”

Tessi hesitated. She didn’t want to be so exposed.

“There, there,” The presenter reassured her. “All the women here are doing the same. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She felt programming surface in her mind. She didn’t know where it had come from, but knew she was compelled to listen to it. Her mind was telling her to do it— so she did— but she felt very unhappy as she hung her coat up and left it behind.

Once she’d hung her coat, she returned to the presenter.

“Now’s your chance to go to the washroom, so you should do it. Once you’ve gone you may enter the cinema.”

He turned his attention from her to some of the other women coming in behind her.

Tessi paused at the entrance to one of the women’s washrooms. She remembered, mysteriously, unable to explain how or even exactly what she was remembering, but she remembered— it had been fun not to go to the washroom before the film. For some reason she couldn’t recall— she didn’t understand why. But took its advice and skipped going to the washroom all the same.

She entered the theater. This one was a theater she had never noticed before— seeing it brought back no memories of the previous screening, so she knew she had truly never seen it earlier.

At the theater’s entrance, she was given a cocktail glass. The cocktail glass was bigger than the one from the day before— seeing it reminded her of yesterday’s cocktail— this one was pink like that one had been, but it was milkier— creamier— and it was not sparkly at all.

She took the cocktail and went inside the theater.

The room was totally pink; filled with pink seats.

Most of the women who’d come were already inside, sitting down and already starting to drink their cocktails.

Tessi took their cue and also found a seat for herself. Once she was sitting she felt calmer; though still a little on edge. Everything about this screening was strange to her so far, and it was hard to be completely at ease.

She tried taking a sip of the cocktail to see if it would help— remembering how the cocktail had calmed her when she’d been riding the cab here.

When she tasted it she noticed how strange its taste was. Almost like— sperm— and pussy flow— but even tastier, and in some way, not disgusting at all.

Still she struggled to drink it— but the other women were all sucking it down eagerly through the straws in their cocktail glasses. It almost seemed the straws had been placed there with purpose, as if to get all the women used to pursing their lips around tubes to suck liquids from them— they were all drinking their cocktails down very urgently.

Tessi stopped drinking hers. She felt a little dizzy— her mind was at ease again. She might as well have been sitting on a cloud— floating along, drifting, without any care in the world. All the other girls in the theater were starting to giggle.

The presenter came into the front of the room. “Good news,” he announced. “You’ll all be getting the job today. You’re here to make the viewing experience for Bimbonic Woman more enjoyable for our audience— particularly for our male attendees who have no one else to care for them. You will provide them the care they’re lacking, and improve their overall watching experience immeasurably.”

Tessi felt confused again. What kind of job was that?

A scream erupted from the audience, and it took Tessi a second to realize there had been language attached to it. One of the female audience members had shoBrigidd, as loud as she possibly could, “I’ll take all their cocks! Every one!”

The other women in the audience fell into giggling hysterical laughter.

But Tessi did not laugh. She noticed all the laughers had drunk their cocktails empty— she had not drunk nearly as much of her own cocktail, so it was not funny to her. She’d better make sure she didn’t drink any more or she’d end up like the rest of the audience.

The presenter looked out at her from the front of the theater. “Tessi,” he called. “Drink up the rest of your cocktail.”

All his other commands had taken root in her mind, but this one didn’t. This time, she successfully resisted.

“I won’t,” she called back; not quite able to yell in anger, even if she was able to refuse.

Something was wrong; she knew that now. And all she wanted to do— the only thing she wanted any more was to leave.

She tried to set her feet flat on the cinema’s floor and make her legs stand for her so she could walk out. But her lower body didn’t move.

She tried with more intention; tried with greater focus. But still, her lower body did not move, even slightly.

Even just that one sip of her drink must have been strong enough to make her legs weak— and Tessi started to cry. Her body was trapping her— she’d barely drunk any of her cocktail, but she had drunk before she knew how dangerous the cocktail was, before she’d known it should be avoided. It wasn’t fair— she hadn’t realized she shouldn’t be drinking until after she had already introduced a little of it into her system. She just wanted to leave. And she couldn’t.

Even that one sip had also, apparently, been enough to make her have to pee again; realizing that filled her with a sense of déjà vu.

The presenter ignored her crying and addressed his audience again.

“Enjoy your screening,” he told them. “It will teach you all everything that you need to know.”

Tessi cried more. The presenter left; the other girls gave out shrieks of delight. Then the lights came down, going out, and the movie started up playing.

Only this time it wasn’t Bimbonic Woman— not the normal movie they had watched the day before.

This film was showing the Bimbonic woman directly. They were all watching her, but the camera was so centered on her that it looked like she was watching all of them. She was staring directly into the camera that was aimed at her, and after a second she started speaking directly to all of the audience.

“You all want to be my servants,” she said to them; and all the women in the audience chanted out, mindlessly, “Yes Goddess!”

Tessi did not chant with all the others.

She looked up at the Bimbonic woman on the screen, but she was shaking her head. She didn’t want to believe what the Bimbonic woman was telling her. She didn’t want to be a servant. She wanted to be a free person. Not a servant— not a slave— didn’t wanted to be changed into whatever this experience was ever going to make her— she didn’t want to!

She had to get up and leave this seat. She had to get up and leave this seat right now, but she couldn’t move. She cursed herself for drinking even that little tiny sip of the cocktail she had taken. Even that much had been enough to trap her— to ruin her. She struggled in her chair— she was still struggling in her seat, she didn’t know how long it had been since she’d started, but she’d made no progress at all. She was fighting through tears to try and get her body to move.

But something new was happening now. A dildo was presenting itself, emerging from the bottom of her seat— and on every other seat in the theater.

Her dildo had appeared between her legs— and all the other women were noticing their own newly appeared dildos between theirs.

Each dildo angled itself and moved— closing in on the exposed crotches of each woman in her catsuit. Tessi’s dildo was doing it too.

In response, each woman in the theater— except Tessi— moaned, consumed by the passion they were feeling. They moved towards their dildos and their dildos moved towards them.

They all moaned wantonly again— and shifted further towards them in one last move, and at the same time the dildos plunged into them— their bodies all shook to absorb the entry. They were letting the dildos penetrate them.

Tessi struggled, tried to shrink back. She wouldn’t— she wouldn’t let— She managed to back herself away from it. She didn’t want to get fucked like this, get fucked here.

Having successfully escaped for the moment, Tessi looked up to the others in the cinema. She watched in shock as every other woman’s hair turned slowly pink— another delayed effect of the cocktail, Tessi was sure; it was impossible to miss so many changes of hair color taking place concurrently, and Tessi couldn’t help but notice.

The girls in the audience all giggled harder; the expressions on their faces had become entirely dumb.

The Bimbonic woman spoke again. She was telling Tessi to drink the rest of her cocktail, but no, she couldn’t do that— it would trap her here for sure, and she had to find some way to get out.

Tessi burst into to tears. She was shifting herself around desperately on her seat— with tears in her eyes— she could move her hips, shift around the seat of her body against the seat of the theater, but she couldn’t move her legs— if only she could move her legs— then she could stand up and walk out of here.

She cried ever harder.

But the Bimbonic woman’s voice was insistent— droning in her head. It kept coming into her mind as the Bimbonic woman was speaking to her. Her voice was everywhere on the inside of her skull; there was no space around it. It was the one idea in her mind, obscuring everything else.

It felt like the words Tessi was hearing inside her head were living, mobile things. Like they were crawling around her body, crawling under her skin. They all wanted to be her servants… Tessi was in their number… She wanted to be her servant too…

Then, at that moment, the Bimbonic woman pulled her tits free— and her nipples started spiraling on the screen; hypnotizing everyone in the audience.

The Bimbonic woman’s spiraling nipples were hypnotizing Tessi too; it calmed Tessi, but even beneath that settling layer of calm, she was still fighting.

From the sound of moans coming up out of the audience, it was obvious the other girls were already being fucked by their dildos; Tessi was able to look down at the woman next to her; she watched, transfixed for a minBrigid; as the dildo went in and out of her neighbor, the other woman’s pussy lips were growing bigger— and the woman’s face was becoming blanker— she looked so much more sensitive like this, with her altered pussy lips; the increased sensitivity seemed to cause more frequent orgasms… and then the woman’s face became blanker…

It seemed the same thing was happening to all the other women too. Their pussy lips grew, their sensitivity increased, they orgasmed… then they became even more visibly blank on the outside, which meant that inside the same thing was happening.

The Bimbonic woman spoke again, calling to Tessi from on the scream, calling out her name.

“Get calm, Tessi,” the Bimbonic woman urged. “Relax, and drink your drink.”

Tessi’s hand started moving toward her cocktail. She tried to pull her arm back— it kept moving in the same direction. She fought harder; but Tessi couldn’t— she couldn’t— stop her hand from retrieving the cocktail.

Her hand took her drink; she felt the fight within her weaken. She drank the cocktail down. Immediately, she felt her body heating up, her head spinning in dizziness, becoming filled with confusion.

Her eyes fell to her own dildo in front of her. Even under the effects of the cocktail, she tried to look away from it. But she couldn’t stop looking at it. It would impale her— it was so fat and thick. It would hurt to have that go in— the tip was glistening under the cinema lights. It had lubed itself up for easy entry— Tessi licked her lips— it was a phallus— she wanted to suck, when it shone like that— but it belonged in her pussy— she had to let it penetrate her. She had to do it now.

She didn’t move forward to it, but she wasn’t retreat anymore. And the dildo advanced toward her.

Then she felt seized by impulse; she moved herself nearer the dildo, the dizziness and the calm inside her increasing. In that same moment, her hair turned pink, but she failed to notice. The dildo entered her— fucked her— and Tessi’s crying stopped.

It drove into her body, and it split her open, stretching her walls, pulling her apart to stick itself as far into her as it would go.

It felt so good to be fucked by the dildo that Tessi had to give up her body and let it go into throes of pleasure— she was moving her body as the dildo fucked, trying to pull it deeper into her— but in the back of her mind part of her had kept trying to resist. She still had enough of herself inside to know she didn’t want this— she wanted it to stop even if her body didn’t, even if it felt like this, but she couldn’t stop herself from thrusting her hips with the dildo’s every entry.

Her eyes slid back to the theater’s screen. The Bimbonic woman’s nipples were still spiraling; and her mind felt weaker again.

She felt her pussy sensitizing, as she’d seen happen to the woman next to her, and she came— at the same time she released her bladder; this made her dumber again, dumber than she’d ever been; but she was still fighting a little.

A new dildo appeared; it had come out for every other woman in the theater, too— Tessi heard it in their moans. She felt the second dildo teasing at her ass, and she tried to jump forward to get away from it, but this meant jumping forward onto the other dildo— shoving it up into her cervix hard enough to bruise, and while she was there, the dildo from behind pressed its advantage.

Before her body could come back down, it drove up inside her, stabbing her from behind, stabbing her onto the other dildo she was already crushed against— she moaned out so loudly it was almost a scream. When she had jumped forward she had spread her ass open and the second dildo had exploited that vulnerability completely— it had stuffed her full, and now she was so full she couldn’t move, partly suspended off her seat, not sitting on her seat anymore but sitting on the second dildo in behind, and shaking constantly with its thrusting. She was not sitting static.

When Tessi had felt the dildo come into her ass— she had hated it— and even now, her mind was still trying to fight against the sensation of it filling her, but she could barely concentrate, barely understand how to fight, because her mind was too simple to conceptualize it.

Now both dildos stabbed her alternately— the dildo in from the front driving her back onto the dildo behind— it hurt to be forced back onto it— it had gone further up into her ass than anything ever should have gone— she had been thrust so far back by the forward, inward driving that she was practically lying down on the dildo behind— then the dildo behind thrust back, pushing her forward onto the front dildo— so she was almost lying on her stomach over it— leaning over it— crunched, crumpled, pussy compacted around it at wrong angles— it ached— it ached so much, but then that dildo only sent her back to the other— and the other to the other— they were only tossing her back and forth like a limp doll; she was a sack of meat being manhandled and tossed around, landing wetly, streaking everywhere.

Her breasts were shaking, jiggling— they felt bigger now— she had drunk the last of the cocktail— had that been the cause?— but she couldn’t even think about that, could only feel how good it felt to have big titties— to feel them get jiggled— jiggle jiggle jiggle— jiggle jiggle jiggle — giggle giggle giggle— it was funny suddenly.

Her whole body was getting bigger— her whole body was jiggling with her titties— the dildo in her ass was still buried, but it felt like it was getting forced into her. Something was ballooning out around it and forcing it up further inside— her asscheeks were growing, becoming almost as full as her tits, and the ass dildo was completely submerged and hidden up inside her, wrapped and twisted in her buttcheeks.

It was too deep— it was too much stimulation— she wanted less of it, but she couldn’t stop it. The dildos kept fucking her— and a new one presented itself at her mouth. This one had come out for all the other women too.

Her mind was filled with the image of the glistening dildo she had seen coming out of the seat. She’d wanted to lick it, but something inside had stopped her. It was not stopping her now— this one she could lick and suck to the contenting of her heart and beyond, but she still remembered herself even with a simplified mind— she didn’t want any of these dildos— didn’t want this third one either, anymore than she’d wanted the other two. But she could see this one under the cinema lights too— it glistened from its dripping, pouring tip, and Tessi’s mouth filled with saliva— she needed— wanted— craved— the glistening dribble was pink— it looked like the cocktail she had emptied from her glass. Her body dove forward, and her mouth claimed it, sucking and sucking as her suspicion proved true. The dildo in her mouth was full of more of the pink cocktail, and it shot into her mouth as she sucked on it, in time with the fucking of her other two holes.

The movie on-screen changed. The Bimbonic woman was no longer on display— instead, it was an everchanging sequence of naked, mindless looking women fucking— fucking men, fucking other women— fucking with their pussies, fucking with their asses, fucking with their mouths—

The entire time, all images were overlaid with a central, transparent spiraling that stayed constant as the images shifted constantly; the audio seemed louder— disjointed— half the time the speech coming through sounded like mumbling, or some kind of foreign language, but every now and then a phrase would emerge above the rest of the din.

Equally mindless sounding women were the ones speaking these phrases— “I need to be brainless,” Tessi heard, as the sequence of mindless slave fucking continued beneath the turning overlaid spiral. Similar commentary continued amid the inaudible mutterings; the audio was so loud and coming out from every cinema speaker that it was disorienting.

Tessi kept her eyes on the screen— it was showing her how to be a slave, how to be the Bimbonic woman’s servant, and all the dildos were fucking her holes as she needed them to— as a slave like her deserved— and she was sucking and working the dildo in her mouth expertly, to keep getting the cocktail from it.

Her body was still growing— it hadn’t stopped. Her ass fattened, tightened around the dildo up inside— her pussy lips engorged and her pussy became even more sensitive around the fat dildo that was inside there and all the way up— and she sucked and sucked— staring with increasing mindlessness up at the screen, the neverending progression of images.

The same thing was happening to every other woman in the theater. All of them were watching it, Tessi included. She was only one of the many now. The many who were watching the screen as more of their cocktails were administered to them through their mouth dildos; and the combination of these experiences was turning them all into giant breasted, fat assed bimbos. Tessi thought happily that her breasts were big enough to hold up the breast cups of her catsuit; the women in the theater were all mindless like the girls in the video; Tessi herself was little more than a mindless bimbo drone.

Only one more of the Bimbonic woman’s new slaves; and she took her slavery seriously, learned it better, as she kept being fucked, and still never even knew that her hair had long since turned pink to match her catsuit.

Once all transformations were complete, the friends of all the Bimbos arrived, thanks to their special invitations. Each was given the sparkly pink cocktail from the day before, and they all went into the theater showing of the normal Bimbonic Woman film together.

The presenter welcomed them all there, and the girls, as they drank their pink cocktails, became dumb and giggly; the men who knew the already transformed bimbos had come back for a second screening; they took their blue cocktails and drank them, becoming horny when they’d finished.

The presenter announced to them that all the women they men knew— who they’d first attended with—their wives, friends or acquaintances were now working as servants of the theater.

As the screening started all the guests drank their cocktails, and felt the influence.

Brigid was sitting with Rowen and Lani— they had all been invited by Tessi. It had said so right on their invitations when they’d arrived earlier that day.

The film started— it was clear that it was pornographic from the very beginning. Lani was into it— seeing the Bimbonic woman fuck her would-be slaves was exactly to her taste. Many sexy women with their delectable bodies fucking and being fucked— the Bimbonic woman’s enthralling power.

Rowen was less into it. “Is this whole movie just women?” She whined, even despite the effects of her drunk cocktail— knowing her, Brigid knew that she wanted to see some heterosexual fucking. “When are we going to see some normal sex?” Rowen whined— as usual not thinking about anyone around her, as usual not caring if she was even the least bit rude, let alone if she was incredibly rude.

Brigid herself was disgusted. Or she should have been— sex turned her off— and she certainly never watched pornography, never would have enjoyed it even if she ever had. But she felt funny— she had drunk all her cocktail— and all the other women seemed to be funny too— even Lani shouldn’t have been so enthusiastic, would normally never have been comfortable so obviously pleasuring in something in front of her friends. The cocktail had done this— Brigid needed to fight— the movie was telling her to do things— be things— that she didn’t want to be— she had to stop it from affecting her. Brigid knew that she was feeling the influence of the drink.

The doors of the theater opened— and the series of newly mindless bimbos shuffled in, all with rolled up eyes that were showing their whites. And each one of them was putting out a constant stream of drool. Brigid didn’t even know how they could walk like that— it seemed they had been programmed so well that their bodies knew how to move even when they themselves couldn’t see anything, with their eyes all rolled up in the back of their heads.

They had huge breasts, huge asses; they were all dressed in pink catsuits like the Bimbonic woman’s slaves onscreen— their pussylips were clearly as fat as the rest of them— the hair on their heads was all pink, their lips seemed excessively pouting— they began going down the rows and positioning themselves in front of moaning woman, starting to suck and lick and kiss at their pussies— some of them penetrating their woman with fingers in varying numbers to match the mouth fucking they were doing.

Some of them positioned themselves in front of the men who had attended. The bimbos were mindlessly fucking the audience wherever they had been able to find an available person who did not already have a bimbo servicing them.

They kept drooling on the people they were servicing— didn’t seem able to stop the constant output of that drool at all; and Brigid could see all down the line of seats that their eyes had stayed firmly rolled back into their heads.

To Brigid’s shock, Tessi appeared between her legs. She had been among all the other bimbos, and Brigid had missed her presence until now. But this was not the friend that Brigid knew. She looked the same as the rest of them— just one more bimbo slave— rolled up eyes, no pupils, only whites— drooling as she knelt there— thinking only of one thing— thinking of fucking just as she’d been told, and nothing else. She had been told and had understood so deeply that she could do it without even seeing.

No, Brigid didn’t want to be fucked by the bimbo slave remnants of the woman who had once been her closest friend— it would start a process that would undoubtedly end with her as one more bimbo slave of the Bimbonic woman— it wasn’t just a movie, not really, if all these real women were slaves just like in the film— maybe the film had really happened— maybe there really was a Bimbonic woman out there somewhere, who was recruiting them all with sex.

It disturbed Brigid more than she could say that her pussy twitched in want when she had that thought— when she imagined someday seeing the Bimbonic for real— and being her slave in person— she wanted to be her slave now— already—

Brigid shook the thought from her head. She fought— had Tessi fought like this when she’d been here? If she had, it didn’t bode well for Brigid. No matter how hard Tessi might have fought, here she was kneeling before Brigid a bimbo. It was possible that no matter how hard Brigid fought the same would happen to her.

Brigid tried to push Tessi back, but she was strong, and determined. Her long tongue was seeking Brigid’s pussy, and it would not be denied.

It was hot and wet when it touched down against Brigid. There was saliva spilling out of Tessi’s mouth and smearing on Brigid’s cunt, mixing with Brigid’s own juices of arousal.

She tried to close her eyes— to ignore the sensations Tessi was creating in her body— to avoid seeing more of the indoctrinating, hypnotic film— but Tessi licked her so well that it threw Brigid’s eyes open in shock; and when she saw the film once more, she couldn’t close them again.

“Tessi, please,” Brigid pleaded. She had tried to escape and failed. The only other option was asking to be spared. “Please,” she tried again, when Tessi made no sign that she’d heard her. “Be merciful to me! Let me go! I don’t want to be a bimbo.”

What good was it pleading with a bimbo who couldn’t even think or hear or understand anything that wasn’t a command coming from her controllers? Brigid felt the helplessness of the situation.

From beside her, Brigid heard both Lani and Rowen giggling— a lot of the other women in the theater were doing it too, but Lani and Rowen’s giggling laughter stood out for Brigid since they were her friends— she knew them— and this kind of giggling was very out of character for both of them.

They had been giggling all throughout the time that Brigid had pleaded, but she’d missed their laughter then for the sake of concentrating on her own speech— on the dream of a possible escape, if Tessi could only be reached. But Tessi couldn’t even see her with her eyes like that— so how could Brigid have expected to be heard?

The only thing she could hear now was Lani and Rowen’s giggling, rising above the din of other laughter. It seemed to pull at her, encourage her to joing them. Their giggles were constant; as if they were having the greatest enjoyment of their lives, being enslaved this way. And Tessi was still drooling directly onto Brigid’s pussy as she licked and sucked, getting everything smearier and more wet— more slippery— more pleasurable— and the giggles were echoing in her head.

She didn’t want to be a slave— she didn’t want to be fucked all the time— didn’t want to just live for fucking like all the Bimbonic woman’s slaves had to, wanted to live for more than that— but Tessi’s licking was just too good.

Her tongue had refused denial when it had sought her pussy— now the insistence of her licking refused the denial of Brigid’s obedience. It had sought out to enslave her with its skilled looking, and it would accept nothing less. There was too much; too much making her slippery and slick, too much sensation— it seemed Ell’s tongue was able to be in ten places at once, twisting and shifting, and touching her with all parts of itself, the tip, the underside, the sides, twisting in her opening, around her clit, along her lips. It was everywhere, like a spasming jerking snake wet against her— and it was too much— Brigid just couldn’t resist the sensations anymore.

She burst out giggling when she sensed the tipping point going over— it was all hilarious suddenly, and she only giggled harder as she felt herself slipping away. She lost her fight for freedom, and her body came in an intense orgasm, and she giggled the entire time. The orgasm blanked out her mind, and washed all her resistance away forever— never to be seen again— and she was still giggling as her newly bimbofied mind recalibrated itself at what would be a permanently lower level of intelligence for her.

The film was over— all the women in the audience had been effectively subdued. Tessi left with the other cinema bimbos— Matt would still be going home without her.

He hooked his arms through Lani’s and Rowen’s. They followed him with dumb eyes— he remembered how intensely Tessi had fucked him the night before. He would have taken Brigid, but he didn’t think he would have the stamina to fuck three girls at once— two girls would be the limit, given how energetic and frantic the fucking was. So instead Brigid left with someone else.

But Lani and Rowen were his, his to keep him company in Tessi’s absence, and his to enjoy for the night— if they were half as wanton as Tessi had been, Matt knew he was in for a very hot night indeed, and he was looking very much forward to it. He would use them and tide them over until tomorrow, when they could go back for their own screening of the training video Tessi had gone to see, and become as dumb, as bimbo-slavified as Tessi herself. Until then, though, they were his, and he would get all possible enjoyment out of them as he could while they were in his keeping.

They were both as dumb and bimbofied as Tessi had been last night— they would have that dumb look in their eyes that she had had— they would only want to fuck; they wouldn’t be able to think of anything other than fucking, and Matt could feel the effects of his own blue cocktail that would keep him able to fuck them both all throughout the night. He eagerly guided them into a taxi outside the theater, and then got them home. They were all messing around in the back seat of the taxi, unable to wait even so long as the duration of the drive before touching each other. They could not keep their hands off him, slipped hand over each other’s as they each tried to keep a grip on his cock.

Once Matt got them home, he fucked them both continuously throughout the night until it had grown light outside.

In the end, Tessi stayed at the theater as a slave in her catsuit, but Matt returned frequently to the theater from then on. And Tessi stayed as a mindless bimbo at the cinema forever.