#memory play
Manuela knew she should be covering herself up right now, but somehow the urgency of her masturbation seemed so much stronger than her embarrassment. She hated that Letty was seeing her like this, legs spread and tits out and one hand inside her panties furiously rubbing her sopping cunt, but she couldn’t help the desperate conviction that her orgasm was just seconds away. And she’d been jilling off too long now to give up when she was finally so close. “I–uh–can, can you knock?” she gasped out, her voice hoarse and raw with aching desire. She barely even noticed that her roommate was dressed only in lacy underwear.
She definitely realized that far from closing the door and leaving Manuela to her lusts, Leticia was coming ever closer to the bed with a smug, confident smirk on her face. “You really don’t remember, do you?” she asked, crawling onto the mattress and putting her hand possessively onto Manuela’s light brown thigh. “No, of course you don’t. You never remember. Just like you never cum, Manuela. Isn’t that the problem? You’re so very, very horny. But you can’t quite get over the edge and cum.” Her fingers teased and stroked Manuela’s sensitized skin, making the helpless woman gasp with pleasure. But somehow it still wasn’t enough to stimulate her needy body to climax.
“C-can’t, I, I… what?” Manuela murmured, her brow furrowing in desperate confusion as she stared up at Letty’s tawny features and struggled to make sense of what the other woman was saying. “What, how, w… what?” She couldn’t parse anything properly, not with the weight of arousal dragging down her mind into that sultry pink fog of lust and need and desire. Every time she tried to think, her fingers skated over her stiff and swollen clit again, pushing her ever closer to the orgasm that remained tantalizingly out of reach, and her mind collapsed into bewilderment again as she tried and failed to cum. “Cum, can’t… cum?” she whimpered, the closest she could get to expressing a concept too complicated for her overwhelmed brain.
“You can’t cum without me,” Letty explained, her voice smooth and calm and utterly remorseless. “I hypnotized you about… a month ago, now?” She chuckled, shaking her head as if to marvel at Manuela’s futile attempts at resistance. “And I took away your orgasms. I hid them somewhere deep inside your own mind, and you can’t get them back until you give up and give in and turn yourself into my lesbian sex slave. Until you convince yourself to really and truly want it, baby. And I’ve been coming in here every couple of days, and I’ve been checking in on you, and… you know, I think you’re getting close, I really do. You don’t even try to cover up anymore.”
Manuela’s vision swam as she tried and failed to focus her blurry gaze on her roommate. “S-slave?” she asked stupidly, arousal gumming up her thoughts into a wet, sticky mess. “I… ohhh, fuck, c-can’t think, I….” Now that Letty mentioned it, Manuela realized she had been masturbating a lot lately. She just always felt so horny, all the time, and the more she jilled off the worse it got, because–because she never came, she slowly and sluggishly comprehended. Because every time, she finished her session frustrated and unfulfilled and even though Letty took away the memory of her visits, that ache in Manuela’s cunt remained. And that just made her play with herself that much more frantically. And that just made her weaker and wetter and more desperate to shatter her own will against the irresistible force of Letty’s control. “Can’t think!” she exclaimed, her fingers rubbing furiously.
“I know,” Letty purred, continuing to pet Manuela’s thigh. “And soon, you won’t even want to try.”
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Sometimes Kitty felt, well… a little bit silly, dressing the way she did. Sure, she looked cute, and most of the time that was enough to keep her from questioning her choice in outfits when she looked in the mirror and saw a pretty little neko-girl with cat ears on her headphones and cat paws on the soles of her stockinged feet and the most adorable cat tail swaying down from the belt around her waist. She was a college student now, making her own money and allowed her own taste in fashion, and if that meant she decided to dress up like her namesake when she felt like it, who was anyone to say no?
But sometimes she felt a little bit of… not confusion, exactly, because it really felt more like a fog was lifting from her mind than settling onto it… uncertainty, perhaps. A lessening of the conviction that usually buoyed Kitty’s spirits and left her happily fantasizing about the day when she could stop thinking and respond to every question with a warm, satisfied purr. A feeling that maybe this was all a little silly, possibly even embarrassing. And that was when it always popped into Kitty’s head that she didn’t have to go through her self-doubt alone. She could go into her messages, find that account her eyes always slid right over whenever she wasn’t in this odd, rebellious mood, and send a text to someone listed only as ’({*})’.
Today’s message was very simple: ‘im resissting’. Kitty didn’t know why that seemed like such an appropriate way to describe her momentary identity crisis; she wasn’t resisting so much as questioning, at least in her own increasingly divided mind. But her fingers apparently knew exactly what to type, and they also knew how to do… other things. No wonder she made a few little typos in her text–Kitty’s thumb was quaking and quivering as it hovered over the touchscreen while her other hand relentlessly rubbed her bare, smooth labia until her cunt leaked onto the vinyl fabric of her favorite easy chair. Her eyes began to unfocus waiting for a response.
By the time it came, Kitty was already on the edge of orgasm. 'Pretty pussies have pretty pussies’, it said, and Kitty looked up at the full-length mirror across from her chair as if seeing it for the first time. She let out a grunt of helpless arousal at the sight of herself, one leg high in the air with her adorable paw stockings on full display, the other flat on the floor, exposing her… her pussy. Oh god. Of course. She always felt so much more turned on when she gave in and became her pussy. The whole 'cat’ thing was just an expression of that truer, deeper inner need. How could she have forgotten that?
A notification popped up on her screen, and Kitty tapped it without really wondering why. Soft music began to play through her Bluetooth kitten-ear headphones, music with whispers in it that Kitty heard without really paying attention to. 'pprety pusses javr perry puzzies’, she mashed into the touchscreen, the closest she could come to repeating her owner’s words back to them. Her eyes drifted away from the mirror, back to the phone that promised to reinforce her pleasure and obedience, but Kitty could still see her slick, dripping pussy out of the corner of her eye. And as always, it made her weak and compliant for her controller.
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“S-so anyway, I was saying, um… I, I was saying….” Molly blushed, the bright red flush creeping up her forehead and contrasting vividly with her sky-blue hair. She normally didn’t have this much trouble holding onto a train of thought; usually, she was able to hold court extemporaneously on a topic for hours without even a single moment of hesitation. But for some reason, tonight her cunt was just, well… it was fucking throbbing, there was no other way to put it. She was so fucking wet and horny and aching with arousal that she couldn’t seem to concentrate properly on what she was saying. But with a titanic effort, she focused on Cal’s sparkling green eyes and said, “I was saying, I don’t think hypnosis is real.”
The small but appreciative crowd in her tiny apartment gave her a look that suggested they weren’t entirely convinced. Stung, Molly pushed on. “No, seriously. I mean, yes, I know that there are some MRI results that suggest something is going on in the brain, but really, it’s kind of a far cry from a few inconclusive and easily misinterpreted brain scans to, to all the far-fetched claims hypnotists make about being able to make people… do things.” Her voice trailed into silence again for a long moment as she struggled to contain the hot, needy tingle in her clit at the thought of being made to perform for a hypnotist, and she shifted position awkwardly on the floor.
“Like, um, like, like, umm….” Molly’s brain fogged over, the examples she thought she could come up with on the fly suddenly flying clean out of her head, and she experienced another surge of hot embarrassment that somehow went straight down to her pussy and made it ache with desire. Everyone was looking at her so intently, Cal most of all, and here she was a stammering, babbling wreck under the pressure of talking to just five or six friends. It was enough to make her squirm, but somehow squirming right now only made her arousal so much worse. “Like, take hypnotic amnesia,” she managed to squeak out, finally breaking the deadlock in her mind even as she felt her cunt leaking with arousal.
“You know, h-hypnotists, they say they can… can make, um, make a woman f-forget she was hyp, um, hypnotized.” Nope, this was a mistake. This particular thread of conversation was making Molly’s pussy so utterly dripping wet that she could feel it clenching, and she was squirming and wriggling with helpless lust at the thought of being compelled like that. How had she even gotten onto this topic? It had been a secret fantasy of hers for years, and she felt so impossibly seen talking about it in front of her friends like this. But if she stopped now, they’d have to know how horny it was making her. Best to keep going. “But could, um, could you really ever f-f-forget something like that?”
Her vision swam, Cal’s bright smiling eyes coaxing more and more babble out of Molly’s practically empty head. “Could you, uh, c-could you just for… forget that you were naked from the waist down, squatting on a big, uh, b-big thick dildo with your legs spread so everyone could see it going innnhhhh! And, and out?” Her jaw hung slack, turning the words into a slurred mumble. “Could you pull down your collar and show everyone your, your titties and just, like… not even notice?” Molly’s nipples ached at the thought, but she couldn’t play with them right now. Not with her hands behind her back, helping push her… helping make her… the thought popped in Molly’s head, unable to sustain itself in the face of her arousal. She smiled vacantly. And with an encouraging nod from Cal, she went back to discussing her new favorite topic.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
