Jessie was more concerned with her social media following than her grades, and Daddy was sick and tired of her spoiled attitude. It was either give up her influencer "career" or visit Dr. Thickmember for 'Focus Assistance'. After a few sessions with the good doctor, Jessie still wants to be an influencer, but now it's under Daddy's rules.

Read the free image version of this latest episode of Lucy's World

Full video episode for members

https://www.redgifs.com/watch/concernedhiddenindigowingedparrot

Just another boring art exhibition.

https://www.furaffinity.net/user/chiralchimera

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/66616767/

Model is Julia Ann. Mods, I'm hopeful this is more in line with the rules of the subreddit.

Was that real? Was it a dream? Why does my face feel wet?

i dont know why but its impossible to find any hypno content of either indians or arabs, do you guys have any or know where to fidn em?

Previous Chapters: Ch. 01 | Ch. 02

________________________________________________________________________

There was no way Lily was addicted to porn, right?

So why was she browsing it at work?

The busty nerd sat hunched in a single-occupant bathroom, phone in hand and r /CultoftheMagister scrolling before her unblinking eyes. A nude cat-girl twisting in tentacles here; a mindless, tendril-sucking dark elf there. It was nothing Lily hadn’t seen before, yet she remained as captivated as the first time she’d stumbled upon the forum, her thumb refreshing the feed whenever she reached the bottom.

She bit her lip, arousal fluttering low in her belly. It was her third such “bathroom break” of the day, and a part of her wondered if that should be cause for concern. Then again, it wasn’t like she was doing anything bad. She wasn’t shirking work to masturbate—that would be a bridge too far. She was just…taking a little break to see if Valerie had posted yet. The top priestess always shared a new image or gif on Monday, yet her account had been strangely quiet all morning. Had something happened? Had she gotten sick? Injured? Locked out of her account?

Lily had to know. Had to be ready in case new info dropped. And if, in the process, she happened to find and save some “inspiration” for later…that was just a nice bonus.

Nothing to be worried about.

A quiet sigh escaped the perpetually horny nerd, her train of thought temporarily lost in a looping gif of the Magister’s eyes. Instinctively, her body began to shift, legs parting to allow her hand to glide between her thighs. She blushed, knowing that she should stop herself, that she was only thing layer of fabric away from shattering her fragile justifications and revealing just how far she’d fallen. But that was exactly what made it so hot. Every line crossed, every routine broken and obligation ignored was yet another sign of submission, proof of the power her Master held over her mind.

It was only a game, of course; Lily knew she wasn’t actually being brainwashed by an MMO monster. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t fantasize about His growing influence, pretending to resist while craving surrender, every failure feeding the flames of her burning, all-consuming obsession.

A calendar alert popped up on her phone, snapping Lily from her daze and stopping her fingers from slipping into her shorts. Shit—the Monday standup meeting was about to begin. Her little moment of on-the-clock indulgence was over. With a sigh, Lily stood and stretched, adjusting her hair and fanning her face in the mirror. She wasn’t sure if her co-workers would notice her flustered state, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. For whatever reason, it seemed like she’d been catching a lot more roaming gazes as of late. Carter especially appeared to be keeping close tabs on her, his bearded face popping over the wall of her cubicle at least once a day. The last thing she needed was for him to start wondering why she’d been spending so much time in the bathroom.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the tall team lead nearly collided with Lily as she stepped out into the office corridor. Both flinched back, reflexively apologizing, Carter’s momentary surprise brightening into a broad smile as their eyes met.

“Oh, Lily. Fancy meeting you here,” he joked.

Lily forced a laugh, nervously adjusting her glasses. She wasn’t sure why, but the increased attention from her co-workers had been making her feel…kinda funny lately. The heat on her neck, the quickening of her pulse—this wasn’t just a flare up of her usual social anxiety. It was…something else. Something that made Lily sway her hips as she matched Carter’s stride, pretending not to notice his barely concealed interest in the subtle bounce of her breasts.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that she’d been forced to come to work in her loungewear. Normally, traversing the office in nothing but a stringy tank-top and short shorts would’ve made her die from embarrassment. But now, all she could think about was how it was a shame none of her push-up bras were clean. If she paired one of those bad boys with this outfit, there was no way any man in the office would be able to resist. They’d probably spend all day fantasizing about getting her alone, cornering her someplace private so they could reach out and…

Ooh…despite her earlier efforts, Lily’s face was burning hot again. Maybe all the porn really was starting to affect her thinking. Maybe she should try and cut back.

Not that she had a problem or anything.

Shit—Carter was saying something about work. Lily blinked, smiling and mumbling noncommittally at whatever observation he’d just made. Fortunately, their arrival at the conference room spared her any further conversation, their paths diverging as he joined the other team leads and Lily vanished into the waiting crowd of lower-level employees. She tried her best to put all thoughts of the Magister aside and focus on the meeting, willing herself to follow every word about project timelines and productivity goals. But despite her efforts, her mind kept wandering back to her bathroom browsing session, mentally cataloguing some of the best pieces she saw. There was one in particular, a short comic depicting a fierce, noble knightess transforming into a humiliated, heavily pregnant slave. The docile, defeated look she wore in the final image was especially well-realized. Lily absently licked her lips, looking forward to enjoying the art properly once—

A faint buzz rumbled against her thigh. Without thinking, Lily snuck her phone half-way from her pocket, glancing down at the screen to check the incoming notification. Her eyes widened.

Valerie had finally posted a new image.

A strange mixture of relief and excitement coursed through Lily, her breath quickening as she went on to read the post’s title:

“FIRST 50 TO PLEDGE IN THE COMMENTS GET EXCLUSIVE FREE WORSHIP VIDEO.”

Oh shit. This was big. Valerie’s worship vids were a hot commodity in the community. For her to be offering not only a free sample, but an exclusive one at that…this wasn’t an opportunity Lily could pass up.

The question was: how much longer would it remain available?

Lily’s eyes darted to the clock, trying to gauge how much longer the meeting would go. No doubt the comment section of Valerie’s post was already filling up, her followers pledging their devotion in hopes of claiming that sweet, oh-so-rare reward. How long would it take for the entries to reach 50? Thirty minutes? Fifteen? Ten?

Lily glanced at her phone.

What if she left a comment right now?

No. No, it wasn’t worth the risk. She was standing in a packed conference room, shoulder-to-shoulder with people she worked with every day. If she took out her phone and began typing, it would only take single stray glance for her porn habits to become public knowledge. It wasn’t like she could pretend to be texting someone; Valerie’s nude pussy would be right there at the top of the screen, making it obvious that Lily was simping for a sex-worker in the middle of a company meeting. What would her colleagues think then? How could she possibly continue working here if she was suddenly outed as the office pervert?

Then again…wasn’t there something kinda thrilling about the danger? Wouldn’t wagering her reputation demonstrate her dedication?

And prove how utterly brainwashed she was?

Shit. Lily was getting wet again. Carter was droning on about scheduled updates, and she was practically soaking through her shorts. She knew this kind of thinking was crazy. That she was letting lust cloud her better judgement.

But her fingers hadn’t released her phone yet.

Fuck it. Adrenaline and arousal thrumming inside her, Lily furtively typed:

>u /Lyra_Thorn: “i pledge toserve my master mymmind andd body are his.”

The nervous nerd quickly pocketed the device, anxious sparks dancing down her neck. She didn’t think she’d been spotted. At least, no one around her seemed to be reacting. But what if they were just playing it cool? What if they were waiting for the meeting to end before they confronted her? Or worse: what if they intended to share her secret as juicy gossip, spreading rumors of her perversion until the whole office thought of her as nothing more than a hopeless, horny degenerate?

Lily stifled an anguished moan. Fuck, she was so turned on. What she wouldn’t give to slink out of the meeting early, retreat back to the bathroom and…

“Alright, that about sums it up,” Carter announced, clapping his hands. “Thanks for being patient with us while we iron out these kinks. Now let’s go out there and kick Monday’s ass!”

The meeting thus adjourned, the crowd dispersed into a cloud of murmurs and motion. Lily allowed herself a small sigh of relief, only to stiffen when she spotted Carter waiting at the room’s exit.

“Hey,” he said, gently coaxing her from the rest of their colleagues. “Got a sec?”

Alarms blared in Lily’s head. She swallowed. “Uh. Sure.”

Carter nodded, guiding her to a quiet corner as the room gradually emptied. Lily fidgeted, her heart pounding so loudly she half-wondered if he could hear it in the ensuing silence.

Was this it? The moment she’d feared? Was her fetish about to become exposed? Impossible—there was no way Carter could’ve seen her screen from the other side of the room. Then again…maybe he’d figured it out some other way. Maybe he’d just been biding his time, waiting to catch her in the act. But for what purpose? Was he hoping to…Oh God. Could he be planning to blackmail her? To keep her under his thumb? To make her subservient to his every desire? Would he go that far? Would she?

Carter turned to face her, the bulk of his body blocking her escape. Lily stood paralyzed, back against the wall, staring at his shoes as she awaited her fate.

“Is…” He cleared his throat. “Is everything…okay?”

The petrified employee blinked. “Huh?”

An awkward shift. A nervous glance. “I, uh, don’t mean to pry but…I couldn’t help but notice you were kinda white knuckling your phone during the meeting. So I figured I would, y’know, check in and make sure you were alright.”

Oh.

Wait. Was that all?

The tension drained from Lily’s body all at once. She swayed, fearing for a moment that she might pass out. “Oh…uh…no that…uh…that was…”

“It’s okay,” he quickly assured her. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. It’s just…well, again, it’s probably none of my business, but you’ve seemed kinda…tired, lately? Like there’s something bothering you, or…I dunno. Am I onto something, or just totally off the mark here?”

“Um.” She wasn’t sure what to say. In some ways, Carter was right on the money: Lily had been getting much less sleep lately, and there was something on her mind that she just couldn’t shake. Only he clearly thought it was some kind of health or family issue, not the fact that she’d been drooling over monster porn all night.

“Again, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” Carter reiterated. “I’m just…concerned. Um, as your manager, of course,” he added quickly.

Lily nodded, searching for a way to placate him without encouraging further questions. “That’s okay, it’s…um. Things have just been a little…weird at home. But you don’t have to worry. I’ll be fine.”

Carter seemed to accept this explanation, though concern remained etched on his brow. “Maybe you could take a few days off?” he suggested. “Last I checked, you’ve got a plenty of PTO to burn. And it might help with…whatever you’ve got going on. Maybe?”

The idea gave Lily pause.

Take time off? Not for health or family, but to stay home and masturbate for a few days? There was something…extremely appealing about the thought. But no—she couldn’t. That would be too indulgent. Too decadent. She’d always gotten through life by working hard and playing by the rules, not exploiting them so she could goon on the company’s dime.

Then again, if it was her team leader suggesting it…well…

“I-I’ll think about it,” Lily stammered out in reply. “Thanks, Carter. I, um, appreciate the talk.”

The bespectacled man exhaled. “No problem. Just, uh, let me know if there’s any other way I can help.”

“Will do.” Lily offered a quick smile and then hurried back to her desk. Her nerves were still buzzing by the time she settled into her chair, her brain struggling to return to work after the roller coaster of emotion she’d just endured. She tapped listlessly on her keyboard, shuffled some random papers on her desk, then gave up and checked her phone, desperate for distraction.

That’s when she saw it.

A private message from Valerie.

>u /Priestess_V: “Hey Lily! Recognized your username in the comments. You were technically #52, but I think we can make an exception ;) hehe enjoy! XOXO -Valerie”

Warmth flooded Lily’s veins, pooling in her head and between her legs. She couldn’t help but grin like an idiot, a giggle threatening to bubble from her lips as she turned and logged onto her company’s HR portal.

She had time to burn, after all. And intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

______________________________

In some ways, Lily’s domestic life had undergone a radical shift.

And yet, from another perspective, it hadn’t changed at all.

Her reliance on routine remained as strong as ever, her hours ordered by familiar rituals and rhythms, a dance effortlessly inhabited the moment she crossed her apartment threshold. But while the tempo of the tune remained the same, its tenor had warped over the past few weeks into something far darker. For it was no longer Lily’s personal sanctuary that she was returning to; no, that temple of quiet diligence had fallen, its lone adherent converted to a new faith, a new God.

His name was the Magister. And pleasure was His providence.

The first step was, of course, disrobing. With keys and bag discarded, Lily pulled her tank-top free and unclasped her bra, a relieved sigh escaping as her heavy breasts jiggled free. She gave the garments a cursory sniff and—determining them to be relatively odor-free—tossed them on the “clean” section of her couch. Her shorts and panties were another matter, both thoroughly stained after simmering in her frustrated arousal all day. The stench caused her tiny nose to wrinkle, and she tossed them into the “dirty” pile without a second look. The addition triggered a mini avalanche of spoiled undergarments, a clear omen of laundry days to come.

But not tonight; nor tomorrow; nor the next day, for that matter. Chores were a distraction from her daily rituals, best left until the last moment if possible. And given that she wouldn’t be returning to work for a whole week, that moment was a comfortable ways away.

As soon as she was nude, Lily arched her back in a luxurious stretch, savoring the feeling of cool air against her blushing skin. Her nipples stiffened, her fingers automatically rising to brush and tease the sensitive nubs. Originally, the decision to forgo clothes had been purely pragmatic, a way to slow how quickly she soaked through her entire wardrobe. However, it wasn’t long before her perverted mind began eroticizing the process, framing it not just as the stripping of her outfit, but the shedding of her armor. Without it, she would be utterly defenseless before the Magister, lacking even a shred of protection from His twisting tentacles and mental might.

On some level, she knew this was just a fantasy; a bit of solo roleplay to help set the mood. But it was so much hotter to imagine otherwise; to pretend that she really was falling under her Master’s sway; that it was He who’d conditioned her to grow horny at the thought of her own vulnerability; that her sense of control was only an illusion, a comforting story to keep her content and unquestioning, all while the Magister’s influence worked behind the curtains of her conscious mind.

Seducing her. Brainwashing her. Changing her.

God, she was dripping all over the floor now. With a sharp breath, Lily forced her hands to her sides, squashing the urge to masturbate over her soiled panties. As strong as her lust was, she had plenty of time to indulge. Tiring herself now would just deny greater pleasure down the road. And pleasure was paramount in the cult of the Magister; how better to turn silly girls like Lily into slavish, tentacle-sucking sluts?

Mouth watering at the thought, the aroused initiate traipsed into her kitchen, reaching into a drawer and withdrawing a small package of marijuana-laced gummies. She’d never been much of a weed-hound prior to discovering r /CultoftheMagister, but after seeing so many users sing the drug’s praises, Lily couldn’t help but give it a shot. And boy, was she glad she had. Gooning for her Master was pleasurable on its own, but a little chemical assistance took it to a whole new level. With the right strain and dosage, Lily could almost convince herself that she really was nothing but a mindless thrall, unable to comprehend anything beyond the next ring of the Magister’s pulsing, spiraling colors.

After popping a gummy in her mouth, Lily retrieved the other two items necessary for her evening: a freshly filled water bottle and a “party size” bag of chips. Both were vital fuel during the early stages of her ritual, before the effects of the edible hit and determined what she would order for dinner (at least, when she remembered to do so). Taking a swig of water to replace the fluids she’d already lost, Lily hurried to her bedroom, pausing to scoop a slightly used towel from the floor and drape it across her gaming chair. A half-empty bottle of lube and a pink, eight-inch dildo stood on her desk, waiting to greet her like faithful servants. She paused, tracing an idle finger up the silicone shaft before reaching over to power up her desktop. The familiar whir of the fans brought a smile to her face as she sat and slipped her headphones on.

She was ready.

When she’d first begun these evening sessions, Lily would always head straight for r /CultoftheMagister’s front page, sorting by “top posts” and working her way down. Now, she knew to save these delicacies for last, putting them off until she was high, horny, and helpless to resist their insidious influence. In the meantime, she performed a warmup of sorts, flitting through related porn subreddits while lazily teasing her body, ensuring everything stayed slick and sensitive.

It was strange: at first, she’d assumed that her new hobby would lead to a broader sexual awakening, that her fascination with the Magister would, in retrospect, reveal itself to be just the tip of an unexplored iceberg. But the wider she ventured, the clearer it became that there was indeed something special about her many-tendrilled Master. The tentacle porn and mind control erotica she found elsewhere just didn’t hit the same, their scenarios lacking some ineffable spice she craved. Which wasn’t to say she found them boring—only that she struggled to engage with them on their own terms, instead preferring to imagine them as yet another part of her overall downfall, a means of further rotting her mind and corrupting her heart.

She bit her lip, belly tensing as a throb of pleasure shivered through her. The lingering buzz told her that the edible was beginning to take effect, and that it was almost time for the main course. She rushed through the rest of the erotica she was reading, skimming paragraphs until she reached the point where the heroine was beginning to break. As always, Lily pictured the Magister in the unnamed monster’s place, inserting herself as its helpless victim while she continued to rub and read:

“I could feel the [Magister’s] pulse inside me. In my pussy. In my mouth. In my mind. It wasn’t just fucking me. It was breaking me. Remaking me into its slave. Its seedbed. Its conquest.

As the pleasure grew stronger, my resistance grew weaker. My body was the first to betray me. My hips rolled and bucked on their own, stirring the tentacles inside me. My nipples warmed with pleasure as the [Magister’s] tendrils stroked and sucked. When they pulled away, I moaned. Milk was starting to bead and dribble down my engorged tits. Whatever chemicals this monster was filling me with, they were working. Soon, I would be nothing but another breeder. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

A shallow orgasm rose inside Lily, drawing a sharp breath from her lips. She rode the swell of pleasure as it crested and broke, sighing and sinking deeper into her seat. Warm sparks danced across her skin, an erotic charge yearning for a new conduit. Licking her lips, Lily tabbed over to r /CultoftheMagister, ready for the next stage of her ritual. But as she scrolled through the posts she’d saved, her eyes kept darting to inbox icon in the corner, unable to forget what waited behind it. She’d been planning to save the worship video for last, but that was before her head got all fuzzy and body felt so warm and tingly and nice. With her willpower softening and inhibitions dribbling from her pussy, there really wasn’t much to stop her from clicking on Valerie’s message and giggling in anticipation.

The video opened in utter darkness, the shadows slowly dissolving to reveal a luxurious canopy bed, the dim, dreamy glow of a dozen candles flickering behind its gauzy white drapes. Atop the cream-colored sheets knelt Valerie, her face hidden by a thin bridal veil that hung from a regal circlet. It was the only clothing she wore, the rest of her gorgeous body bared in full. The soft curve of her breasts; the slender line of her waist; her shapely, child-bearing hips; the spiraling mark of the Magister emblazoned upon her womb. Lily had always assumed the tattoo to be temporary, but now she wasn’t so sure. Could it be that the subreddit’s top priestess had actually branded herself with their Master’s sign? Had she truly become so enthralled by His power? So brainwashed and bent to the demon’s desires?

But no—that was silly. There didn’t have to be some wicked, insidious force at work here. More likely, it was just an innocent (if extreme) expression of fandom. Plus, it certainly helped make her content feel more authentic. Valerie seemed to be making a decent living from her priestess persona, so it wasn’t crazy to think she would go this far. Especially if she could write it off as a business expense.

That made sense. But it wasn’t what Lily wanted to believe. She wanted to fantasize, to imagine that Valerie had no choice but to permanently scar her flawless skin, to make her body a work of art in her Master’s honor. There would be no hiding her enslavement; not from strangers at the beach, friends in the locker room, or lovers in her bed. All would know who truly owned her. Could there be any better sign of devotion? Even a wedding ring could be removed on a whim, but this…

Lily mewled, restless with desire. The video had barely started, and already she wanted nothing more than to grab her dildo and plunge it into her aching folds. She wouldn’t even need lube; not when her slick, servile cunt was already soaking through her seat. Nevertheless, she resisted the temptation, instead mirroring Valerie as her long, painted nails lightly grazed up and down her skin, leaving visible shivers in their wake.

“I pledge to serve the Master,” Valerie intoned, low and longing.

Lily’s lips parted automatically. “My body and mind are His.”

“Very good, my loves,” the priestess purred. Her graceful fingers reached up towards her veil, lifting and casting it back to reveal her face. Though no stranger to its charms, Lily still couldn’t help but become entranced. Such arresting features, so soft and exquisitely sculpted; such gorgeous eyes, so wide and dazzlingly bright; such luscious lips, so glossy and playfully inviting. To glimpse this beauty in photos was tantalizing enough, but watching it move and emote with the vibrancy of life inspired a longing almost too much to bear. Every minute shift in Valerie’s smile was a seismic event, every flutter of eyelashes carrying the force of a hurricane. Was this love Lily felt? Lust? Envy? Some combination of the three? Whatever the emotion was, it held her completely spellbound, its power rivaled only by the Magister Himself.

How fitting, then, that this idol should be His messenger.

“If this is your first time watching,” Valerie continued, “welcome to the Inner Sanctum. Here, we practice our devotion to the Master and offer ourselves to his power. Today, we’ll be focusing on training for priestesses; but don’t worry, men of the congregation. You too have a part to play. As you watch me teach your sisters, I want you to give yourself fully to the pleasure you feel and thank the Master for His generosity. Though you can’t serve Him as we can, there are other ways to repay His kindness. Maybe you would like to make a donation or spread His teachings to a friend. Remember, nothing is more important than serving and growing His flock. Isn’t that right, my loves?”

“Yes, Mistress…” Lily drawled automatically, not entirely sure where the words had come from. They just felt so…right sliding from her lips. As if she’d already been taught exactly how to respond.

“Very good,” Valerie cooed. “Now, priestesses: it’s time to begin our worship. Starting with the top of your scalp, I want you to gently run your fingers down your body, massaging just like so. Yes, that’s right. You can use more pressure if it feels good. Mmm. We wear so many false faces during the day. So many costumes, so many chains. But now, we are shedding all of that. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Muscle by muscle. That’s it, my loves. Let go of everything you’ve been carrying up until this moment. Your worries; your responsibilities; your ambitions; your ideals. Until all that remains are our true selves. Naked and open. Raw and vulnerable.”

Lily bit her lip, a soft moan vibrating in her throat as her hands smoothed down her neck and collar. Her fingers delicately traced the swell of her breasts, teasing the edges of her areolae as her nipples tightened with need. Yet despite the growing tremor beneath Lily’s skin, she did not break from the languid, luxurious pace of her tutor, obeying Valerie’s commands as though they came from the Master Himself.

“Yes, my loves. Feel yourself awaken to His power. Notice how sensitive your skin has become. How your body yearns for the Master’s touch. Let’s call out to him, my loves. Let’s invite the Master to bless us with His presence. Just bring your fingers here and roll them like…so.”

Lily gasped, the jolt from her nipples sending an electric pulse through her core. She squirmed, struggling to contain the lewd heat swelling within her. In the corner of her vision, the dildo still stood at the ready, offering to sate the greedy hunger of her sex. But the totem’s temptation was little more than a fleeting whim, unable to overcome the allure of the holy idol on her screen.

“Ooh…that’s right, my loves,” Valerie sighed. “You felt that, didn’t you? That’s your body calling out to Him. He can feel your lust. Your desire. The part of you that craves Him. That belongs to Him. Let’s…oh…” Valerie’s voice hitched, an unbidden shudder passing through her as her fingers slid between her legs. “Let’s raise our inner voices, my loves. Let’s call out to our Master. Like this, little priestesses. Nice and soft. Nice and…soft.” Her back arched and legs parted, her elegant fingers gently stroking as her pussy drooled onto the sheets.

Though Lily’s eyes remained locked on the screen, she felt the wetness of her own sex smear against her hand, sending shivers up and down her skin. She stroked and teased as instructed, no stranger to the mechanics of the act, yet experiencing it like never before. It was almost as if the Magister really were drawing closer, his presence deepening the darkness within her, tightening the bonds around her heart and womb with every pulse of wicked pleasure.

“A little firmer now loves. Mm. That’s right, right there. Not too hard. We…haahh…we do not demand, my loves. That is not our p-place. We must…haah…beg for our Master to come. We must show him how…devoted we are. How…h-helpless and…obedient we…can…beeeee….”

Lily’s breath was growing shallow and hot. Her heart hammered in her chest, yet her hands never deviated from their instructions, mercilessly toying with her clit as her hips twitched and writhed. It was as if she could no longer control herself, as if an unseen puppeteer had seized her body, their whims completely disconnected from the waning influence of her will. The realization made her dizzy, her thoughts spiraling into a floaty, disorienting haze. As her capacity for reason drifted away, her mind sank into a familiar state, a trance-like daze similar to that which the Magister had placed her under, over and over again.

Valerie moaned, seeming lost in ecstasy before she locked eyes with the camera. “Can you feel it, my loves? Can you feel how much your body longs to submit?”

“Yesss….” Lily droned, the words barely registering in her ears. “Must…submit…”

“Show the Master, little priestesses. Go ahead and…hnn…slip inside. F-feel how…how wet and d-desperate you are. Curl your fingers a-and p-press…yes…yes…just like that. Just. Like. That.”

Lily obeyed, sighing in stupefied surrender. Her jaw fell slack. Her eyes rolled. Her vision blurred and then refocused, ensnared by the swirling eye insignia on the priestess’s womb. Traces of color flickered at the edges of Lily’s vision, as if she was staring into one of the Magister’s pulsing pupils, so susceptible to His influence that the mere sight of His sign was enough to leave her utterly hypnotized.

“Good…good,” Valerie cooed. “Now stop a moment, loves. Pull your fingers out and see just how weak and needy our Master makes you.”

Lily blinked slowly as the screen was obscured, her muzzy mind taking several beats to realize she was now staring at her own hand, thin, sticky strands of arousal stretching between her glistening fingers.

“I pledge to serve the Master,” Valerie intoned.

“My body and mind are His,” Lily agreed.

“Very good, my loves.” Valerie lowered her hand between her thighs. “With me now. Let’s complete our training together. Go ahead and start rubbing again, my little priestesses. Let your fingers and feelings call out to the Master.”

Lily didn’t need to be told twice. She’d already found her clit again, circling and stroking in time with the oracle on screen.

“Yes,” Valerie moaned. “Yes! Oh, it feels so good, doesn’t it, my loves? You want to cum so badly now, don’t you?”

“Yes…” Lily panted. “Yes…yes…please…”

“I know, my little priestesses. And our Master knows too. He can feel it. Your devotion. Your desperation. Beg, my loves. Beg your Master for your reward. Beg your Master for your release.”

“Please…” Lily whined. “Please…please, Master…oh God…”

“Stop.”

Lily stopped. It wasn’t a conscious choice; her body had simply done as commanded. Even as she realized that there was nothing physically holding her in place, her hand remained frozen and trembling over her pussy. Unable to touch it. To soothe it. To stop the pitiful whimpers leaking from her lips.

Onscreen, Valerie’s blue irises suddenly sharpened, her gentle, motherly expression hardening into that of a strict disciplinarian. “You were about to cum, weren’t you?”

“Whuh?” Lily blinked dumbly.

“Don’t lie to me. I can tell. You were about to make yourself cum. You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you?”

“Uh?” It was hard to process what was happening. There was no way Valerie could actually…but Lily had been about to cum. Hadn’t she? Wait…why did that even matter? It wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong. Or had she? If she was blameless, why did her eyes instinctively avoid Valerie’s gaze? Why did it feel as though a seed of guilt had been planted deep in Lily’s belly, its roots tangling with the arousal twisting inside her?

“Slaves don’t make themselves cum,” Valerie explained. “Our bodies belong to our Master. Our orgasms are His to give or deny. A true priestess will never cum without her Master’s permission. But you are not a true priestess yet. Not until you have given everything to Him. Even this.”

She began stroking her pussy again, as if to emphasize the point. Lily mirrored her motions, biting back a moan.

Valerie sneered, the expression somehow lovely upon her delicate features. “Don’t try and deny it,” she said. “I know what you feel. Just as our Master does. You want to cum more than you want to submit. Given the choice, you would take the easy way out in a heartbeat, wouldn’t you?”

Lily didn’t know. She didn’t know. She didn’t know. Her brain was mush. Her will was exhausted. The priestess’s words weren’t making any sense, and yet Lily found herself agreeing with them, if only because she didn’t know what else to believe.

“Don’t worry, my little priestesses,” Valerie lectured. “This is what our training is for. Our Master is merciful—He knows how pathetic we are. How lost we would be without Him.” Her severe expression softened into a teasing grin. “So let’s thank Him, my loves. Let’s show Him that we understand our place.”

With that, the gorgeous oracle reached off-screen, returning to center frame holding a long, oblong dildo in the shape of a tentacle. Her lips pressed against the veiny surface, planting a series of loving, worshipful kisses before she turned again to address her audience:

“If you don’t have a proper totem, my loves, you may use whatever is closest. Even your fingers will do, for now. Just remember that the Master’s pleasure is what matters, not yours. He will reward you, but only if you earn it. That means no cumming, my little priestesses. No matter how badly you want to. If you do, He will know. And there will be consequences.” She giggled.

Lily’s own totem was already in hand. She stared at the pink silicone, a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispering that she didn’t have to do this. She didn’t have to follow the video any further. Valerie was putting on a good show, but that’s all it was. A show. A game. A fantasy. There was no point in Lily denying herself any further. Her pussy was throbbing. Her insides cried for relief. She should just do what she really wanted: fuck herself to a screaming climax and break free of this pointless torture.

Instead, she raised the toy towards her panting mouth. She thought about the Magister, imagined it was one of His tentacles hovering before her, demanding supplication. The image was surprisingly vivid. She could see the dark, glistening flesh approach, the tendril unfolding to reveal a nest of dancing red whiskers and a prominent, pulsating phallus.

Just like in her dreams.

Without thinking, she extended her tongue, licking the length from base to bulbous tip. Her eyelashes fluttered, a soft moan escaping as her fingers instinctually resumed their dance below. She didn’t even need the video’s instructions anymore, not when she was so lost in her own fantasy. Still, the faint, wet sounds of Valerie’s worship drew Lily deeper into the erotic revery, until she swore she could smell the incense of her Master’s chamber, feel the heat radiating from His many limbs, and hear the moans of her fellow priestesses as they writhed and sucked and served as one.

Lily plunged the hot appendage between her lips. She hummed around its girth, tongue lavishing every inch as it pushed deeper and deeper into her throat. When it crossed the threshold of comfort, she extracted it with a sharp ulk, coughing and sputtering and stringing drool onto her naked tits. Yet it took only a moment for her to resume her worship, her mouth seeking and receiving him again as she groaned in helpless devotion.

How truly pitiful she must’ve seemed. Here she was, alone in her apartment, play-acting her ravishment by a fictional monster. Worse still, she was delaying her own relief for its amusement, denying herself in service of…what exactly?

The ache inside offered no clear answer.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe this wasn’t about simple pleasure. Maybe her obsession with the Magister was rooted in something more. Something meaningful. Something she would never find simply scrolling porn and getting off. She needed to go further. Deeper. Push her mind and body into places she would’ve shrank from mere weeks ago. Only then would she find what she craved. Only then would she understand her desperate fascination.

Lily’s back arched. She whined around the unyielding cock, an unbidden orgasm threatening to break free. Her hand instinctively stopped its rubbing, saving her from heresy, allowing her to experience the horrible, wonderful bliss of denial once again. She almost cried when the shakes subsided, the dildo slipping free and spilling another stream of spit onto her stomach. She didn’t care. After only a moment to catch her breath, she began dutifully suckling once again. Her mouth, her tongue, her tits, her cunt—it was all for Him. All for the Master. All she was good for.

How long Lily remained in that deep, dark place, fellating and edging in a mindless haze, she couldn’t say. It was only when a familiar phrase echoed in her ears that she stopped, the toy dropping from her mouth as she droned:

“My body and mind are His.”

“Very good, my loves,” Valerie purred. “That concludes our training. If you managed to make it without cumming, reward yourself by paying the Master’s chamber a visit. If you were bad and gave into your greed, I suggest you check out my homepage for a suitable punishment routine. Until next time, my loves.”

The video ended with a cheeky wink, and Lily soon found herself staring at a black screen, her dripping chin and dull-eyed gaze faintly visible in the monitor’s reflection. All of this she registered without much thought, too muzzy to focus on anything but the excruciating arousal in her quivering core. Following her instructor’s final order, she closed the video and launched Realms of Rinn, intent on visiting the Magister’s boss chamber.

Lily had been a good girl, after all. She deserved her reward.

As soon as she finished logging in, however, a new notification swiftly derailed her plans.

Valerie was online.

And she’d just sent Lily a private party invite.

To be continued...

There's a video that I've watched in full a few times. It's a lesbian video where one girl offers to hypnotize another for her to "get over her ex." She does just that but also decides to brainwash her. There's a lot of making out. Both of the girls have black hair and they're in like a hotel room. To my knowledge, it's a fairly popular video and if you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about.

What's crazy is that you used to be able to just google this video. Like you could literally type in "lesbian hypnosis" and it would come up. Now it seems impossible to find, at least from my experience, which makes me think the creators managed to scrub it off. Just so crazy to me how a video that was so everywhere can be so hard to find.

The girls can't keep their hands off each other as their reality is altered further.

Part 1: https://www.redgifs.com/watch/growingsaddlebrownrodent

Part 2: https://www.redgifs.com/watch/vigilantamusedclumber

Note: All characters within this story are above 18 years of age. This is a fictional story and is meant to be read as a fantasy by adults (18+). Any apparent lack of consent is purely a narrative element within this fictional setting and is not meant to reflect acceptable behavior in real life. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Ron could do nothing but stand there and prepare himself to take the verbal abuse he already knew was coming. He had heard her heels. That sharp, clean click on the hallway wood that always meant she was dressed for work and out of patience. Then the door handle. The door opened in one smooth motion.

Judith Shaw walked into the room like she owned the air in it, which, as far as Ron was concerned, she did. She stopped in front of him with his grades from the previous term in one hand, the paper folded once and held tight enough that it had a crease down the middle.

She was forty and there was no decent reason she still looked like that. Brunette hair, dark chestnut pulled into a sleek bun so tight it made her cheekbones look carved. Not a strand out of place. Sharp brown eyes that did not wander when they were angry. She had the kind of face people still turned for in parking lots, clean makeup, nude mouth, the expression of a woman who had already decided the meeting was a waste of her time. The suit did the rest. Charcoal blazer cut close to a waist she had no business still having. White blouse tucked in, top button done, fabric still stretched across a pair of tits that made the whole professional act look filthy if you looked too long. And Ron looked as long as he could. He always did, then hated himself for it. Pencil skirt painted over her hips and that ass she carried like it was part of the job description. Black heels. Thin gold watch. Fit hourglass body, she was the complete package. A total MILF standing in his room with a report card, and the worst part was she did not even have to try to look attractive.

Ron knew the morning was going to be tough. He had felt it in his stomach before she even opened her mouth. He just had not anticipated how much failing two subjects would set her off. Two. Not the whole term. Not a collapse. Two boxes on a page and she was already looking at him like he had burned the house down.

“What is the meaning of this, Ronald?”

His full name. That was the first cut. She only used it when she wanted him to feel small.

“I cannot believe that despite everything I do for you as a single mother you still do not respect me enough to do the bare minimum.”

Ron clenched his jaw. Yeah. His mother was a hardworking, successful businesswoman. She worked like the world would end if she was late to her duties. She kept food on the table and the lights on and a roof that did not leak. He knew it. She made sure he knew it. What he did not like was how she served that fact up every chance she got, like gratitude was a debt she could call in whenever his grades slipped.

He could smell her perfume from here. The same one she wore to the office every day. The blouse pulled when she breathed. He tried not to watch it happen.

“I’m sorry, Mom…” he began.

Her hand came up. Sharp. Right in his face. Palm out, fingers tight, the gold watch flashing.

“I do not care what you have to say for yourself, mister. I am absolutely done with your nonsense. I think it is time that you leave my house and fend for yourself.”

Ron could not believe his ears. He was eighteen. Eighteen. And she was talking about kicking him out over two subjects like he was some deadbeat she had been housing out of charity. The paper in her hand trembled. Not from weakness. From how hard she was holding it.

“When I was your age–” she started.

Ron’s mind snagged. He knew that speech. He had heard versions of it for years. Walked uphill. Worked nights. Did not have a mother who bought her anything. Did not have the luxury of being average. He should have been listening. He knew he should have been listening. Instead the phone in his pocket started losing its mind.

The phone buzzed. Not a normal notification. Incessant. One long angry pulse after another, buzzing against his thigh. He knew she would lose it if he pulled it out. He could already hear the next sentence forming in her mouth. He still could not focus with that thing going off against his leg.

He fished it out as subtly as a tall idiot in sweatpants could manage, eyes down, thumb already moving.

The screen was wrong.

Not his wallpaper. Not his messages. A prompt box sat in the middle of the display like it had been waiting for him.

‘Direct-Her’ app has been installed successfully. Open app?

Ron stared at it. Had he downloaded some virus? He did not remember downloading shit. He tried to tap the corner, kill the prompt, close it, do anything that looked like he was not standing in front of his furious mother playing with his phone.

The tap did not close it.

The tap opened it.

A radar screen bloomed purple across the glass. Not a cheap little icon. A full interface, deep violet, a faint sweep moving around a center point like it was searching the room. For a second there was nothing. Then a single dot. One. Right in front of him.

Under the dot, highlighted like a target:

Judith Shaw

“What the fuck,” Ron muttered under his breath.

He should have locked the phone. He should have put it away. He clicked the dot instead.

A new screen appeared. Clean interface.

‘Current scene’

Underneath it there was one option. Only one.

Talking to son about his low grades.

Another prompt slid up.

Direct scene?

Ron’s curiosity was through the roof. His heart was doing something stupid in his chest. He was still trying to understand what he was looking at when Judith’s voice changed.

She had seen the phone.

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? GIVE ME THAT PH–”

Panic dumped through him. His hand clamped down on the screen.

He hit the button.

He did not mean to. That was the truth of it. His palm just smashed the prompt because she was coming for the phone and his body did the only dumb thing it knew how to do.

The air in front of her face went purple.

Not a glow on the wall. Not a trick of the light. A solid purple clapper appeared in front of Judith Shaw’s face like someone had hung a piece of film equipment in the middle of his bedroom. A movie clapper. Real enough that Ron saw the hinge. It clapped.

Loudly.

The sound cracked through the room.

Judith stopped in place.

Not a pause. Stopped. Mouth still open as she tried to yell at him. Eyes still furious. Body still leaned toward him, tits pressed against the front of that white blouse, heels planted. Frozen like the scene had been cut mid-line.

Then she moved backward.

Ron’s stomach dropped.

She did not turn around like a normal person leaving a fight. She rewound. Shoulders first, then the step, then the next step, the paper in her hand traveling back through the same arc it had taken when she walked in. Her bun stayed perfect. Her skirt stayed painted to her ass. It was the same entrance played in reverse, smoothly, until she was out of his room and the doorway was empty and the hallway had her again.

Ron stood there with the phone burning in his hand.

Then she came back.

Same heels. Same clicks. Judith Shaw walked into the room and stood in front of him with his grades from the previous term in one hand. The same milf in the same armor, walking the same path like the last few minutes had been scraped off the world.

“What is the meaning of this, Ronald?”

Ron’s mouth went dry.

“I cannot believe that despite everything I do for you as a single mother you still do not respect me enough to do the bare minimum.”

It was the same. Not close. The same. The same bite on bare minimum. The same way her watch caught the light when her wrist tensed. The same little lift of her chin that meant she had already tried the nice version of this conversation in her head and thrown it out.

Ron clenched his jaw again because his body did not know what else to do. The resentment was still there. The heat under it was still there. She was still the woman who reminded him she paid for every meal. She was also a woman who had just walked backward out of a room and done a complete redo of earlier actions. He didn’t know what to make of it.

“I’m sorry, Mom…” he said and he heard how different it came out this time. Thinner. Confused. Like he was reading his own line off a card he did not remember being handed.

Her hand came up. Sharp. Right in his face.

“I do not care what you have to say for yourself, mister. I am absolutely done with your nonsense. I think it is time that you leave my house and fend for yourself.”

The words hit him again. He should have been angry the same way. Instead he was watching her mouth shape the threat and waiting for the purple thing to come back.

“When I was your age, I had none of these advantages you kids these–” Judith continued speaking.

Ron looked down.

The phone was still in his hand. The screen had changed. It was glowing now, faint purple around the edges, like the glass had a pulse.

‘Scene in progress

Clap hands to interrupt and direct the current scene.’

He stared at it.

Clap hands.

That was it. No other instructions. No tutorial. No fine print about what happened if you clapped at your mother while she was mid-lecture about kicking you onto the street.

Judith kept going. The speech. The comparison. The version of herself at eighteen who had not had a warm house and how he was an ungrateful son who could not even pass two classes. Ron heard the shape of it more than the sentences. His palms were sweating.

He clapped.

Not loud. Not theatrical. Just brought both hands together once because the screen told him to and he had already pressed one button today by accident, he had nothing to lose.

Judith stopped.

No freeze-frame this time. No rewind. She just… halted. The anger drained out of her face like someone had pulled a plug behind her eyes. The paper was still in her hand. The bun was still perfect. The blouse still looked obscene if you had a filthy mind, which Ron did. But the woman wearing all of it looked at him like a performer waiting on a note.

Confused.

“Did I do something wrong?” Judith asked. “Is there something we need to change?”

Ron’s brain went blank for a second.

What was this?

“Umm,” he said. “Change what?”

“Change how I was doing the scene?” She said it like that sentence belonged. Like she had not just been ready to throw her own kid out. Her voice was completely earnest. No sarcasm. No trap. “Please tell me how I can do it differently.”

Ron looked at her. Really looked. Same Judith. Same brown eyes. Same mouth that had been ripping him open thirty seconds ago. Now she was standing in his room asking for direction like the grades lecture was a part she had been cast in.

He was even more confused. His pulse was in his throat. The phone was a warm stupid weight in his other hand.

“Uhhh,” he said. “I guess you can be more lenient and soft?”

He said it to see what would happen. That was all. A test. A stupid little push because if this was a dream he wanted to know how far the dream would go.

Judith actually thought about it.

He watched her think. That was the part that made his skin crawl in a way he did not have a name for. His hot-headed mother, the woman who timed people and called his room a pigsty in other lives of this same morning, standing there in her charcoal suit considering lenient.

“Oh,” she said. “Are you sure that’s how the scene should be done? It is my understanding that the mother, Judith, would be very angry at Ron for failing.”

Hearing her refer to herself in the third person was crazy. The mother, Judith. Ron. Like they were roles meant to be played.

He was starting to understand what was happening here. Not all of it. But enough to start making sense of things.

The app had not swapped her for a different woman. It had turned the fight into a scene and handed him the director’s chair.

“No!” Ron said, too fast. “I think even if she is angry she should be polite in how she communicates herself to him. That’s the best way for him to learn?”

Judith pondered that.

A second. Maybe two. Her eyes flicked like she was reviewing the script. The paper lowered a fraction. The tits in the blouse stayed a problem he was going to have to live with.

Then she nodded.

“Ok, director. I shall incorporate your feedback. Shall we redo the scene?”

Director.

The word sat in the room between them. She had said it simply. No joke. No wink. Judith Shaw in her work suit called her son director because the scene required a director and he had been assigned that role by the app.

Ron did not know what else to say. If he said no, she might snap back into the version that wanted him on the street. If he said yes, she was going to walk out and do it again, softer, because he had asked. The choice was simple.

“Yes,” he said. “I guess we can.”

“Good.” Judith smoothed the already-smooth front of her skirt with the hand that was not holding his failure.

“I’ll take it from the top.”

She turned.

He watched her go. She walked back into her room with the same authority she used for everything else in this house and closed the door behind her.

The latch clicked.

Ron stood in the suddenly quiet room with his phone still glowing purple in his hand. The hallway was empty. The grades were on the other side of that door now. So was Judith. Waiting, apparently, for her cue.

He looked down at the screen again.

‘Scene in progress’ had gone dark.

A new line sat underneath like it had been there the whole time and he had only just earned the right to see it.

‘Redo queued’

Ron swallowed.

His palms were still a bit sweaty. His jaw still ached from how hard he had been holding it when his mother, the real one, had been yelling at him. He could hear her on the other side of the door. Not talking. Just there. One woman in a powersuit holding a report card, ready to walk back in and be polite about him ruining his life because the director had said so.

He should have deleted the app. He should have thrown the phone in a drawer. He should have thought about what it meant that his mother had used her own name like it belonged to a character. But there was only one problem, he was starting to like the power he had over her.

He stared at the closed door instead.

Any second now she would open it again. Same bun. Same blouse. Same hips. Same mouth. Different temperature, if she meant what she had promised. Lenient. Soft. Angry, maybe, but polite about it. Take two of the worst morning of his week, rewritten because he had clapped like an idiot and she had called him director with a straight face.

Ron’s thumb hovered over his phone.

He just waited for Judith Shaw to walk back into the room and start the scene.

The door opened again.

Same click of the handle. The same Judith walking in like the room belonged to her. The grades were still in her hand. The bun was still tight. The suit was still the suit. For a second Ron thought she had ignored him and come back as the same bitch who wanted him on the street.

Then she spoke and it was not that.

“Ronald.” She said it softer this time, disappointed. Softer around the edges in a way that made his skin itch. “I am not happy about these grades. I need you to hear that.”

She stood in front of him and let the paper hang at her side instead of shaking it in his face.

“I have been thinking about what to say,” Judith went on. “I think it’s time for you to leave. I do not want you to hear that as me throwing you away. When I was your age I did not have someone standing here making it easy. I had to figure it out. That is what made me who I am. If I offer you the chance to stand on your own, it is because that is how I became self-sufficient. That is how I built a life. I am trying to give you the same thing, even if it does not feel kind.”

Ron stared at her.

Lenient. Soft. Polite. Just like he had asked. And it still sat wrong in his chest. She was disappointed, yes, but she had dressed the threat up as a gift. Still talking about her success. Still making his failure a lesson with her name on it. The power from the clap was still humming in his mind and this version of her was not enough. He had told her to ease up and she had eased up and he was still the kid getting coached by the woman in the powersuit.

His anger boiled up to the surface.

He clapped again.

Harder this time. Bringing both hands together like he meant it.

Judith stopped mid-sentence. The earnest look stayed on her face for a beat too long, then broke into something smaller. Confused. A little scared and he was drunk enough on the last ten minutes of power to enjoy that.

“What now?” she asked. Quiet. “Did I–”

“Shut up,” Ron said.

She did.

That was the part that did it. His mother, Judith Shaw, stood with her mouth closed because he told her to.

“You think that was better?” He stepped in closer to her without meaning to. “You think wrapping it in a speech about how amazing you are makes it softer? You still cannot go five minutes without reminding me you pay for everything. You still cannot talk to me without making it about you.”

Judith’s fingers tightened on the paper. She did not raise her hand. She just stood there and took it, brown eyes wide.

“I asked you to be polite,” Ron said. He could hear himself getting uglier and he did not stop. “Not to give me a TED talk. You walk in here with your little suit and your little watch and act like I should be grateful you did not scream. You were going to kick me out. Then you come back and call it an opportunity. That is not soft. That is you needing to be the hero in your own scene.”

Her throat moved. She looked like she wanted to answer and did not know if she was allowed.

“Do you have any idea how exhausting you are?” he said. “You stand there looking like that and talk down to me like I am twelve. You talk over me. You shove that single mother shit in my face every time I breathe wrong. And now you want a cookie because you said it nicer?”

“Director–” she started.

“I said shut up.”

She flinched. Actually flinched. The paper bent in her hand. Ron’s heart was going too fast. He should have felt sick. He felt tall.

He ran out of air before he ran out of spite. The room went quiet except for his breathing. Judith stayed where she was, scared and confused and still holding his grades like a prop she had forgotten how to use.

When he finally stopped, she swallowed.

“If you do not like the Judith character,” she said, careful, earnest in that same actor way, “maybe we can change it? If it would help me deliver the performance you need.”

Ron blinked.

There it was. Not anger. Not the lecture. A desperate little offer to please him. His mother asking if the problem was the role itself. It caught him off guard hard enough that the rant died in his mouth. It also put an idea in his head so clean he almost laughed.

“Um,” he said. “What if Judith wasn’t a successful businesswoman but just as much of a loser as Ron?”

Judith’s head tipped. Completely nonchalant. Like he had asked her to try a different dish at the restaurant.

“Ohh? How does that help the scene?”

“I think in order to get to Ron, Judith needs to understand him,” he said. He watched her face while he talked. “She can’t do that if she’s this statue of success, now can she? She has to be a failure like him.”

He hoped it landed. For a couple of seconds she just looked at him, thinking it over the same way she had thought about polite.

Then she nodded.

“Yeah, you are right, director. But she still needs a job in order to afford the house and stuff. What should her new job be?”

Ron thought about it. He could keep it small. He could give her some sad little office job and call it even. He decided to push his luck.

“How about a stripper?”

Judith looked a bit scandalized. The whole clean act cracked for a second.

“But isn’t that inapp–”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Ron cut her off. He did not give her the time to finish the word. Overwhelm her. Keep her moving.

“Uhh.” She blinked. “I think not. Ok, we’ll go with stripper for Judith. I’ll go redo the scene.”

She was already turning, already walking back toward her door like the decision had been filed.

“Wait!” Ron called after her.

She stopped.

He had one more idea and if he did not say it now he was going to watch her walk in again in that same suit and hate himself.

“A stripper doesn’t wear all that, does she?”

Judith looked down at herself. The charcoal suit. The blouse. The pencil skirt. Then she laughed, a short surprised sound, and smacked her own head with a closed fist like she had forgotten the obvious.

“See!! This is why I need you! Thanks, director. I’ll go change.”

She turned around and left for her own room. The door shut. Ron was alone, waiting anxiously.

He waited.

He told himself he was testing the app. That was a lie and he knew it. He was hoping his wildest wet dream had just been given a chance to become reality. Every sound from her side of the house made his stomach kick. Drawers. Bare feet. Something hitting the floor. He did not go look. He stood in the same spot she had yelled at him and tried not to think about what she was doing in there.

Fifteen minutes. He closed his eyes hoping it all worked out.

“How’s this?” he heard her voice suddenly from the side.

Ron turned.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Judith was in a denim mini skirt and a matching denim bikini top he had never seen in this house. It had to be from her younger days. It was a couple of sizes too small now, the fabric digging into the soft weight of her tits, cutting into skin that the blouse had only hinted at. She had taken the bun out. Dark hair sat in a high ponytail. Her face also looked different. Sultry makeup, darker lips, eyes done like she was about to walk onto a stage instead of into his room with a report card. She looked like a complete slut. Like she was meant to.

“Yeah,” Ron mumbled. “Yeah, that’s good…”

Judith beamed with actual pride. She walked toward the hallway she was supposed to enter from, one hand up in the air like she was calling a mark.

“Ok! Watch me nail the scene this time.”

Ron’s eyes stayed on her ass as she went. The mini skirt did not stand a chance. He could not wait to watch her or nail her, he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do more.

Teaser Image

Note:

You can read the second chapter which concludes the mother's scene already on Patreon/Subscribestar, while also supporting me in making more content. This is a commissioned story, you can message me and ask about commissions if you would like a story of your own. You can also read chapters of the Subscriber exclusive story: 'Random Objects'.

You can also read my other stories: https://chyoa.com/user/ThePurpleD3viL/stories

Part 4 of 'The Reality Altering Gun', a comic I made, is also available for members $7 and above.

Here’s the link to The Reality Altering Gun – Part 1: https://e-hentai.org/g/3811253/8793b60683/

My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/ThePurpleD3viL

My Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.art/thepurpled3vil (Direct Pdfs For non Discord users)

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