Synopsis:
Despite being a lesbian, Katie falls in love with the man who forced her. For some reason, thinking it was due to hypnosis turns her on. So, she decides to start an ex-lesbian harem for him. But maybe she needs to "convince" him first. And why does she keep hearing whispers in her head that tell her to corrupt people?
Warning:
This story isn't for everyone! It contains offensive material, including but not limited to
lesbian-to-straight conversion
using mind control. However, if you were looking for misogyny, you may be disappointed.
Contributions:
Without the significant efforts of my editors (Griz T. Orc, TerrinX, and Sienna K.) and beta readers (Winston Knight, Dark Tzitzimine, and many others), this work would not have been possible. Thank you all!
Disclaimer:
All characters are at least eighteen years of age, or the age of majority, whichever is older. This story is entirely fictional, and I do not in any way condone what happens in it. This story does not imply anything related to dissociative identity disorder (DID), a tragically misunderstood condition. Do not reproduce this story on any other site. © Tessa ♥️
* * * * * * * *
"...st-stop..."
Forcing the word out was a struggle. His arm wrapped around Katie's neck, and his hard, muscular body lay on top of her, pinning the redhead to her own mattress.
Trying to push him off was hopeless. She'd already pulled up the bedsheet trying to crawl away.
Begging was all she had left now.
"Why stop?" the man asked. "You're moaning like a bitch in heat."
She could barely think, her mind overwhelmed with pleasure. It became harder and harder to remember why she wanted him to stop.
"Ngh... nhh... Be... Because... I'm a lesbian!"
She moaned as her pussy spasmed on his cock.
"Katie, Katie, Katie..." he tisked, chiding her. "Why else would you think I'm doing this?" He withdrew his cock all the way and then slammed back into her. "Plus, you
say
you're a lesbian, but you and I both know your pussy isn't!"
She couldn't deny she was being driven wild. But it didn't make sense. Why was she fucking this man?! Taking his hard, throbbing cock, her greedy pussy clenching around it like a tight fist. She couldn't even remember how she came to fuck him. One moment she was studying for class, and the next she was being fucked.
She was a lesbian... She would never choose to fuck a man!
"You're... You're raping me!" she blurted, her emerald green eyes opening wide in realization.
There was no other explanation for it. Her foggy brain tried desperately to form coherent thoughts, but it was an uphill battle.
"Am I?" the man smirked. "Is it rape when you're enjoying it so much?"
Of course it is!
Her mouth opened to argue, when memories of the day flashed before her eyes...
* * * *
Katie Bates yawned as she walked back from her morning class. The college senior had a fight with her girlfriend the night before, but that wasn't the reason she was tired. It was the hours of make-up sex that followed—Beth uncharacteristically allowing Katie to use a strap-on dildo on her, which Katie put to very good use judging by how much Beth begged her for more.
Katie's smile lightened her face.
She almost looked forward to their next fight.
For now, she needed to rest for a few minutes before her next class. She sat down on a nearby bench outside the Liberal Arts building, letting her bag fall to the floor. She was still rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes when she felt someone sit next to her.
"Didn't get much sleep either? I had a crazy biochem exam. My recommendation? Never. Take. Professor Smith."
The voice belonged to a charming man who looked a bit older, maybe mid- to late-twenties. But biochem? He had to be a junior or senior. Probably someone who started in the workplace after high school and saved up for college the hard way.
His disarming smile gave him the aura of a pleasant person to be around, and she didn't mind his dark brown hair or deep blue eyes. But he was still a
man
. Katie disliked men on her
best
days, and right now she was sleep-deprived and grouchy.
She pointedly ignored him.
"I'm actually a biochemistry major. I find the subject fascinating! I'm kind of a nerd like that. Okay, okay—I'm
very much
a nerd," he laughed self-deprecatingly.
"I don't want to talk to you," she mumbled.
He must not have heard her, as he continued. "Despite being my favorite subject, it's insanely hard for me. Did you know that, on average, only 30% of students pass his class? Only 30%! How is that fair?"
Katie's patience hung by a thread now. Another man who wouldn't take no for an answer. Why do some men have trouble with the concept of consent? Not like other men are any better. Any man who isn't a member of the patriarchy is still basking in the privilege its evil produced.
Just who does he think he is? Just because he embodies the tall, dark, and handsome cliche doesn't mean he can score with me.
"Oh, by the way. I'm John Hayes!" He smiled and reached out his hand.
Seriously? Time for this asshole to be taught a lesson.
Sneering, she yelled, "Gross. Don't talk to me! Let me guess. You want to hit on me, despite the fact I'm clearly gay."
Her unexpected outburst surprised him. He blurted, "No, I just—"
She cut him off hard. "Shut up! I'm not going to have sex with you! Your tiny dick couldn't pleasure me like my girlfriend can!"
His face turned red. He looked around, noticing all the students who had witnessed it. Some were laughing, while others were trying their best not to.
She almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
So far, he'd only made small talk, and it was technically possible for him to have no ulterior motive. But now everyone thought he had a micropenis and he'd probably never been more humiliated in his life.
But he was a
man
.
He was visibly struggling to remain calm, but all he did was politely say, "Sorry to bother you," as he stood up and left, walking in the opposite direction, students still giggling behind him, mocking him. His fists tightly clenched in either frustration or rage, but she couldn't see his expression.
Yeah. She'd definitely feel bad for him.
If he weren't a
man
...
* * * *
Slam!
His thrusting brought her back to the present, his cock driving the lesbian wild with a multitude of emotions.
Anger.
Confusion.
Arousal.
"John...?"
He ignored the question and snarled out a demand instead.
"Tell me you love my dick."
She had to admit—she couldn't have been more wrong about his size. It was larger than any dildo she'd been fucked with. But she wouldn't admit that to him. Because fuck him! That stupid rapist can go to—
Smack!
He spanked her hard, sending a jolt of arousal and fear up her spine.
"Fuck! Okay! It's
huge
!"
He kept fucking her roughly, never losing his rhythm. If he didn't stop, she'd cum, and soon.
"Admit you love it!" he commanded.
"It's so good. I love it!"
The reply was out of her mouth before even thinking.
Wait. No! She needed him to stop, before the pleasure drowned her like a wrecked ship on a stormy sea.
"P-Please!" she whined, moaning even more.
"Please what? Please stop? Or please make me cum?"
It was getting so hard for her to think that she had forgotten what she was about to beg for.
"I'll stop if you want, and leave. But if you want me to make you cum... then beg for it. Beg for me to cum in your tight, little pussy, and maybe I'll let you have the biggest orgasm of your life!"
His offer to leave gave her a moment of clarity. She shouldn't want that. Right? She was being... raped.
And even if she... wanted... him to make her cum, she would never beg for it.
Not from a rapist.
And especially...
Not from a
man!
And... and... she wasn't under any kind of birth control! She was a lesbian and didn't need it! She realized with a startle that she was ovulating, so there was a good chance she'd be knocked up!
It was easy. There was absolutely no question which she'd choose.
He had to stop!
"Please cum in my lesbian pussy! Make me cum so hard I never think about women again! Fuck the dyke out of me!"
Wait.
What?!
That's not what she decided! It just came out automatically. And that doesn't even sound like something she'd say!
"Good girl." She could hear the smug smile in his voice.
Although the degrading "compliment" would've usually made the feminist seethe, right now her pussy spasmed at the praise.
He was no longer pinning her down, his hands now on her hips. She vaguely noticed she was now a fully willing participant, pushing back to meet each thrust, squeezing her pussy on his cock.
"I'm cumming," he growled.
He was about to impregnate her. She didn't want that. She had to get him to stop. Or at least to pull out. She was going to beg him to stop. She was going to beg him to pull out.
She was...
She was...
"Cumming!" she screamed, electricity shooting through her as the biggest orgasm she'd ever had consumed her, making her mind go white with raw, unadulterated pleasure.
The sensation of her pussy convulsing on John's throbbing cock pushed him over the edge.
He thrust once more all the way and unloaded the first rope of cum inside her.
"Ohhhh!"
She moaned, her orgasm intensifying as John's semen coated her cervix.
Spurt!
More cum spilling into her abused pussy as her womb fills up.
Spurt!
Sperm traveling up her ovaries, her eggs craving his sperm.
Spurt!
Never before had she felt so womanly. So fulfilled. So...
Complete.
Spurt!
She knew now that this was what she was made for. What girls were made for. They were made for cock.
