Royal Lesbian Hypnosis: The Bride Enslaved
The bride wore white. Cloistered in a room where the covered windows were decked with creamy roses, Marcia could barely believe that she was finally here, in a church, about to be married to a real, honest-to-goodness prince. Her very own Prince Charming. Prince Joseph Stewart Carrington III, anyway. But would she have all of these ladies in waiting if she weren't about to become a princess? Would she have this opulent dress, hand-stitched with pearls by palace seamstresses? Someone teased her hair as someone else put the finishing touches on her fingernails. All around her, women cooed and glowed over her. She tried to enjoy the privacy. Outside, and for the rest of her life, a media circus waited.
The Gold Digger Hypnotized By Her Rival
There was no time like the present. Kylie fluffed her generous breasts so that they hung nicely in her red halter top ball gown. A glance at her cleavage told her that she was ready to catch herself a rich old man. Her breasts were as succulent as two ripe melons. A quick check of her makeup in a compact, a quick shimmy of the shaper keeping her panty line hidden, and she was ready. She pasted a sensual smile on her face. It was the one she'd practiced in a mirror night after night, preparing for this moment.
The Brainwashed Shopgirls Enslave a New Customer
“I just want to feel like a different person for a while.” The shopkeeper nodded, her gaze distant and fixed. Caroline frowned. What was up with this place? Sure, the clothing was amazing, but everyone seemed so zoned out! She glanced at the other shopgirl, a hottie lingering near the display windows, staring into space.
Hypnotizing a New Slave
The spiral turned. Endlessly it spun, pulling her eyes deep, pulling her mind down, down, down. Once, she had been conscious of words, but now they simply flowed into her. Deeper. Sexier. Her breath was quick and her mind was blank. Deeper. Obedient. Her pussy throbbed with need as her bare thighs became wet. They were rubbing together independent of her will, independent of her control.
DJ Hypno's Harem Tactic
The club was packed. Sadie couldn't remember being in a place that was so exhilarating. But wasn't that just perfect? She was 21, and having her first nightclub experience! She hoped she'd dressed right. She'd ripped her tightest T-shirt across the boobs to show off both her impressive cleavage, and her taste in music. Maybe the Daisy Dukes were a little much, but the boys didn't seem to mind. Sadie batted her eyes at one, and received her first free drink. She smiled as she lifted her margarita to him, but the sip made her grimace. She hadn't known what else to order, but anything had to taste better than this!
Hypnotized by My Sexy Delivery Girl
I think I'm a pretty dominant kind of woman. I'm the executive of a huge company—think billions of dollars per year—and I have lots of people who count on me to tell them what to do. That's why I wanted to talk to you about your deliveries here. Every time you bring a package to my office, I somehow lose face with my staff. I can tell. An experienced manager always knows. So what are you doing? Spreading rumors? Opening my letters? Spill.
Puppy Mask 2: A New Acquisition
If you're new to this series, remember to start with the first installment, Puppy Mask! Something was just too, too weird about that costume contest. Dana seethed over her pumpkin spice latte, wondering what she’d done wrong. Or what she hadn’t done right. She was a model, for fuck’s sake! She knew she was the sexiest woman in the square, and before that goth chick and her so-called puppy had come on the scene, she was sure she’d win. Her and her little angel getup had one councilman actually salivating. Dana had even shaken her little tush, hamming it up with a wink as she stepped off the stage in a flurry of feathers from her enormous wings. And then that vamp had come on with her friend. Or whatever. And Dana had gotten second place.
Delia was never one to miss Halloween, but this year was going to be extra special. DJ Marqd, a.k.a., her old classmate Mark Witman, was spinning at the hottest club in town for the annual Vampire Night. She was going to be his VIP—and maybe more. Standing in line, she twirled in her black tutu, admiring how her fishnets hugged her cute runner's legs. The fake fangs felt weird in her mouth, and she had to work hard not to drool. The guy who'd made them for her said she'd get used to them, a few minutes after putting them in. Delia certainly hoped so! There weren't many things in life less sexy than a drooling vampire.
Brainwashed by Day
You have a routine. Every morning, your eyes blink open and you stare at the ceiling for a minute, letting your mind rise out of the depths of your unconscious. Your dreams evaporate like early fog, leaving you with the sense that you've forgotten something important. Soon, even that disappears in the light of the new day. It's time to rise.
This was the best time of the year, Callie thought dizzily. The leaves. The sweaters. The costumes! She loved October so much. Today was the best part of a great month: the annual kickoff to the Halloween Fair. The winner of the costume contest would get to eat for free at any restaurant in town all month long, as long as they were wearing their costume—which Callie would do, obvs. She fingered the gossamer wings that had cost her more than a month’s rent. Worth it! A little glittery makeup here, glittery hairspray there, and she was a stunning fairy. Callie admired herself in the mirror, striking a pose and pouting. Her low-cut mini dress barely covered her ass and tits, both of which were sparkly with more spray-on glitter. The wings were gorgeous, of course, but Callie knew what really swayed the judges. Year after year, they picked the sexist costume on the sexiest woman. This year, that would be her.