Face Down

Kathy doesn't even know what hits her. The moment Douglas walks into the room, her eyes lock onto his and she feels a warm flush of arousal spread across her chubby pink cheeks. Her mouth flaps noiselessly, trying to put a description to the rush of strangely familiar vertigo that makes her feel as though she's falling endlessly forward even as her feet become rooted to the ground, but the more she recognizes the drowsy silence stealing over her mind the more she sinks right back down into it. Until before she knows it, she's staring vacantly at him with infinite, docile patience, waiting for the command that will finally seal her trance back into place once more.

He doesn't wait long to give it to her. "Face down, slut," he growls, and Kathy's knees slowly buckle under her as she slumps to the floor and presses her forehead into the scratchy fibers of the cheap hotel carpet. Her long dark hair slowly slides along the back of her blouse, tumbling lock by lock around her face to form a curtain around her that blocks her Master--and of course Douglas is her Master, Kathy can't think of him as anything else anymore--entirely from view. She can dimly, distantly remember a time when obedience was more of a struggle, when some part of her still had the strength to resist the liquid rush of arousal pulsing between her thighs and she held some conscious awareness of what he was making her do... but that was weeks ago, maybe even months, and now all she can think about is how fucking wet her pussy is.

It gets even wetter when she hears his padding footsteps come around behind her, and feels his strong hands flipping up her skirt and tugging her leggings down around her knees. "Ass up," he commands, his voice husky with barely-suppressed lust, and Kathy's ample chest is squashed down against the floor as her hips rise as high as they can into the air so that her soaking pussy winks at him from between her broad thighs. It finally dawns on her that she didn't forget to wear panties again like she initially thought when she left the house this morning and noticed the thin fabric pressing directly against her plump labia--she was responding to a post-hypnotic suggestion from her Master, one she heard and obeyed and immediately forgot until she was back in helpless trance for him again.

It's always the same, every single time. It's the reason why Kathy can never resist Douglas's inexorable hypnotic control, because resistance is a product of her waking mind and her waking mind has no idea she's ever been hypnotized to begin with. The very act of struggle requires willpower, and Kathy's willpower drained away the moment she met her Master's piercing brown eyes and slipped away into deep, defeated trance for him. And all Kathy can think about when she's in trance is how very, very good it felt to submit and obey all those other times, and how much better it's going to feel when she surrenders to Master now.

And she is going to surrender. She feels the head of his cock pressing against the entrance to her cunt, the tip of it working its way into her slick pink folds, and her pulse quickens with anticipation of the pleasures to come. She can picture the warm brown shaft in her mind, see it framed by her pale thighs with an intimate detail that only the pure and perfect focus of trance can bring, and the churning arousal makes her musk slowly leak down her legs like her pussy is drooling to be fucked. "Beg me," Douglas growls, and Kathy doesn't need to be told twice.

"Please, Master," she whispers, keeping her voice pitched low enough to avoid carrying out into the hallway. "Please fuck me...." This time of day, there aren't many guests around--those that haven't checked out already are usually stumbling out into the world to take care of whatever brought them to Indianapolis, and the few remaining stragglers are sound asleep with a 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign on their doors--but Kathy's been conditioned to be discreet anyway. The last thing Douglas wants is for someone to find him fucking the housekeeping staff, and naturally Kathy wants whatever her Master wants. "Please shove your cock in my pussy," she gasps, her meek, breathy mewls a more potent aphrodisiac than any moan.

Kathy knows what will happen if he gives in to her pleas and pushes his stiff cock deep into the slick, needy channel between her thighs; this deep in trance, she can finally remember what really happened to the birth control pills her waking mind thinks she's been taking religiously every single morning before she heads off to work, just like she can remember what happens during all those 'little informal meetings' Douglas has with her at the end of her shift in his private office and why it is that she's been daydreaming during her daily masturbation sessions about swollen bellies and heavy, milk-filled tits. It's been just about two weeks since her last period, and just about two years since her Master first began softening her resistance with his hypnotic talents. The seed of his power has been growing inside her ever since... and it's almost time for another seed to join it.

That should give Kathy the determination to resist, but instead she hears herself whisper with even greater urgency, "Please fuck me, Master, please fill me up with your cum, please pump your seed into my pretty pussy, Master, please drain your balls in me, oh fuck, please...." The part of Kathy that wants to be anything more than a vessel for her Master's semen is wrapped up in a web of deep, mesmerized slumber, and the part of her that remains present in the moment can't think of anything better than being used and bred like human livestock for her owner's pleasure. They're joined by nothing more than a fulcrum in the center of Kathy's mind, one rising as the other falls each and every time.

But they're not equal. Oh, Kathy's conscious mind might have fooled itself into believing that--not that she knows about the horny, submissive slut that waits at the base of her subconscious to emerge whenever she and Douglas are alone together, but she still imagines that her waking self is the prime architect of her will and the center of her personality. But the other Kathy, the needy little bitch in heat that wriggles her rump in a desperate and futile effort to grind her way onto her Master's cock and begs, "F-fuck, p-please, fu-fuh-fuck!" with a quiet, desperate urgency... that particular Kathy can see everything that's happening inside her increasingly empty head.

She remembers all the programming sessions in Master's office, staring rapt and helpless into the spiral set into the screen of his phone while her fingers tease her soaking pussy and she repeats the mantras of lust and obedience that fill up the silence inside her mind. She knows about the secret cravings that Douglas has implanted into her, the ones that Kathy's waking self imagines to be weird and inexplicable fetishes that keep popping into her head whenever she masturbates at night and won't go away no matter how repellent she tries to tell herself they are. She knows that the part of her that's brainwashed and compliant is growing... and she knows the final trigger that will birth it into Kathy's weak, defenseless consciousness and merge the two sides of her personality into one submissive whole.

"Good girl," Douglas husks out, thrusting into the butter-soft folds of her pussy until his balls smack against her slick labia. Kathy releases a low, guttural grunt and pushes back against him like a rutting animal.

She can feel herself sinking deeper into trance with every thrust, somehow finding new and ever more profound levels of surrender to her Master's will every time his hips slap against her ass and her cunt clenches around his hard shaft. He's fucking the resistance out of her, she realizes, and on some level she realizes that even that realization is just another product of his insidious control of her mind. Kathy's been programmed to associate physical penetration with the subjugation of her will, and the constant sex--in his office, in the supply closet, in virtually every guest suite at one point or another--has sapped her resistance so completely and totally that almost all of her thoughts are merely an expression of his brainwashing by now. Especially the utter, transcendent joy she feels at knowing how owned she truly is.

Master's fingers dig into the plush, padded flesh of Kathy's asscheeks, gripping her hard enough to leave marks that she knows her waking self won't ever notice, and rocks her back and forth onto his cock with increasing speed. He doesn't say a word to her now--there's no need, not when his programming echoes within his obedient slave's mind in a constant susurration of brainwashing mantras, and all his energy is devoted to fucking her as hard and as fast as he possibly can. He wants her cumming again and again, each time tightening her clenching cunt deeper around his shaft. The muscular reflexes will tug his seed exactly where it needs to go. More than ever, this time it feels like a foregone conclusion.

He's going to cum inside her. That much she knows--Kathy has spent many if not most of her days on the job doing her chores with semen dripping out of her pussy, not that she's ever allowed herself to realize it. She can feel his balls tightening every time they smack into her labia, hear his breathing become strained and hoarse as he holds back his ejaculation as long as he can to make it as potent as possible. This one's going to be a gusher, and he won't pull out until he's given her every last drop.

And she's not on birth control, not anymore. That was the final little straw, the last defense that Kathy's subconscious mind eroded away without her waking self even recognizing the ultimate defeat of her strength and her will and her desire to resist. As far as her consciousness is concerned, the last few weeks haven't deviated at all from the usual routine. She doesn't remember that last, longing sigh of subjugation as her face went slack and her eyes went glassy and she numbly wandered into the bathroom to flush the little white pill down the toilet. But the horny, grunting bitch who's desperately humping her Master's cock... she remembers it with the strength of an orgasm inside her head.

And she's ovulating. Kathy's deep self has been counting the days, reporting them to Master with the shivery anticipation of a small child waiting for Christmas. Kathy knows that her cunt is fertile, open, ready to be claimed by her Master's seed, and there are two whole weeks to keep trying if today isn't enough. Douglas's excitement at the culmination of his plans for the beautiful young woman with the plump thighs and the broad hips and the big, heavy tits has been keeping his cock nice and hard and ready to shoot. She doesn't doubt that he's got plenty of swimmers to spare.

And she's positioned perfectly now, her whole body angled so that any fluid deposited into her vaginal canal will flow down into her womb with the same irresistible pull that tugs Kathy's mind deeper into Master's power. She's got a toy in her supply cart that she doesn't remember putting there, and there's a 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign on the other side of the door. Douglas can leave her squatting and plugged for as long as it takes to ensure conception.

And... and oh, oh fuck, she won't remember any of this. When it's finally time for her to resume her day, Kathy won't notice any of the missing time any more than she notices the squishy, well-used sensation in her pussy after Master fucks her on a daily basis. She's going to go about her day, about her week, about her month, never thinking twice about what's happening to her body, never wondering why she feels a bit nauseous in the morning, never questioning her odd little cravings for food, until....

Until that day. That glorious, wonderful, perfect day, the day that Kathy visualizes every time Master fucks her. The day when she finally, hesitantly goes to the drugstore, more confused by the results she got when she Googled her symptoms than suspicious, and picks up a pregnancy test. The day when she looks at the results and realizes at last that all her twisted, kinky daydreams about being knocked up have come true. The day when she's confronted by the truth of Master's programming and her utter bewilderment at the impossibility of being pregnant finally melts into understanding at last. The day when her true subjugation to her owner begins.

It's enough to make Kathy cum so hard she sees stars. And when her pussy squeezes around Master's shaft, it's enough to make him cum too. Kathy lets out a drowsy, contented sigh as she feels him shoot his load into her slick pussy, and then she relaxes into vacant bliss and waits to be plugged.

THE END