Today was finally going to be the day that Ella resisted. Oh, she told herself that every day, but this time she really meant it. She reached into her underwear drawer, deliberately ignoring all of the frilly crotchless panties and lacy G-strings and see-through lingerie so delicate they practically weren't there, and selected a pair of plain purple cotton women's briefs. She stepped into them and pulled them on with all the determination of a knight getting armored for battle. Today, she told herself, they were staying put.
She dithered for a moment over the choice between skirt and pants-the slacks would make it harder for her to take her panties off, if she did have a momentary lapse (which was all she would have, if even that, she told herself sternly). But on the other hand, putting on pants would suggest that she needed the extra help to resist Mikayla's suggestions, which would doubtlessly undermine her confidence and make it easier for her to give in. Besides, the navy-blue pencil skirt flattered her hips and complemented her midnight skin tones. She pulled it out of the dresser and slid it on, then put on a blouse and a matching blazer. A pair of pumps and her second-favorite purse completed the ensemble, and then she was out the door and off to the bus stop.
Obviously, the bus was not going to be the problem. Even if she was going to spend her bus ride in thinking about...about lunch with Mikayla, which she wasn't because she didn't need to because lunch with Mikayla today was going to be entirely unremarkable save for Ella's little look of triumph when Mikayla asked for her panties and she said, "Ooh, sorry, can't, babe, still wearing them..." (Ella paused for a moment, savoring the mental image.) Even if she was going to think about...that, thinking would be all she did. She couldn't act on any of Mikayla's suggestions in public. Not without getting arrested, at least, and Ella and her subconscious were at least in agreement that getting arrested was a bad idea. The bus was safe.
Which meant that she could think more about the whole situation with Mikayla, ironically enough. It would be harmless, because she couldn't do anything to act on it. She could calmly, dispassionately examine the way she felt whenever she thought of slipping off to the restroom a few minutes before lunch, pulling her panties off before going to Mikayla's restaurant and handing them over to Mikayla before spending the rest of the day without any underwear. And obviously, it felt humiliating.
But what exactly felt so humiliating about it? Was it the threat of discovery? She didn't think that anyone would actually look up her skirt when she returned from lunch every day; her desk faced a window, and anyway the office started to clear out around three. During the last hour, she didn't even see anyone most days. The idea that someone would notice that she was naked under her skirt was kind of absurd, even if she did spend every afternoon feverishly contemplating the possibility. Perhaps that was enough, though. Maybe just the potential for being caught, the idea that someone might see her slick and shaven cunt framed by her thighs and the fabric of her skirt, was enough to give her a shamefully erotic thrill.
But more than that, Ella knew, that feeling of strangely sexual humiliation that she experienced every single day stemmed from her awareness that Mikayla had won again. She felt it when she came slinking into the restaurant day after day after day and sat down at the table, and Mikayla just looked at her with those deep brown eyes and that smug little grin on her face, and said, "Do you have something for me, good girl?" And every single time Mikayla asked, Ella couldn't help reaching into her purse and handing over a pair of wet panties. It was a clear, inescapable sign that once again, Ella's self-control had proven to be no match for Mikayla's hypnotic suggestions, and both of them knew it.
It was incredibly frustrating. No matter how hard Ella tried (and she had been trying for fucking months now) she just could not fight Mikayla's hypnosis. She was absolutely powerless to keep herself from giving Mikayla her panties every day, and worse, she was powerless to keep herself from getting turned on by it. She always thought of herself as an absolute fucking badass, a Fierce Black Woman who took shit from nobody over nothing, and every day she was back in that restaurant handing over her panties without a word of protest. And every day, they were fucking soaked by lunchtime. That was what was truly humiliating, knowing that every day she spent the whole morning thinking about her ritual submission and every day she didn't even make it to the office before the idea got her pussy all creamy.
The bus hit a little bump, jolting Ella out of her thoughts, and she realized with a tiny sigh of despair that so far, today wasn't any different. She could already feel a rush of slickness between her thighs, not enough to make her panties messy yet but definitely enough to tell her that she was thinking about this a little too hard. Ella crossed her legs, determined to put Mikayla and her hypnosis and her demands right out of mind for a while. Ella was going to think about something besides Mikayla and her obnoxious little smirk and the way she always accepted Ella's panties like a queen receiving tribute and that deep, theatrical sniff she took of Ella's musk and the look in her eyes when she said, "That's my good little slut..."
Ella realized she was squirming in her seat, and forced herself to stop. She uncrossed her legs, planting them firmly on the floor in two parallel lines that weren't squeezing together and weren't spreading apart, and very sternly instructed them not to move again. She was supposed to be resisting today, not trying to get away with sneaky masturbation on the bus. Even if Mikayla had gotten inside her head-just a little, she reminded herself, the last six months didn't prove anything at all-she was still in control of her urges. She wasn't helpless. Just because it felt good to rub her thighs against each other while thinking about obeying Mikayla's programming, just because the motion made her clit stiffen and spark pleasure up her spine like a little lightning bolt, that didn't mean she had to do it. It didn't mean she was weak-willed, and, and susceptible, and...
Ella's nipples hardened, rubbing against the inside of her bra. She hissed out a careful sigh of arousal and concentrated on keeping her legs apart for the rest of the ride in to work.
Once she got into the office, she knew she would do better. She had lots to keep her occupied, three productivity reports that had to be on her boss's desk by noon and a meeting at eleven and almost a dozen performance reviews to go over. And that was on top of whatever crises she could expect to land on her desk over the course of the next four hours. At this rate, she might wind up so busy that she couldn't even get away for lunch, not that she would ever cancel if there was even a chance she could finally show Mikayla that she wasn't some kind of brainwashed, obedient slut with a horny, drooling cunt that begged for-
Ella pulled her hand away from its slow, lazy drift toward her waistband and sat down, angrily placing her legs in position. She furrowed her brow in determination and pushed Mikayla and her suggestions away once more.
As she settled into her chair and started checking her morning emails, she told herself that this was exactly what she needed to help her resist-if she was busy working, she wouldn't have even a moment's time to think. That was what got her all those other times-she was too efficient. She had nothing to do but sit at her desk contemplating the moment when one o'clock rolled around and she had to make that long walk past the restroom to the elevators, anticipating the way her stride would slow down more and more as the compulsion hit her harder and harder until it seemed like such a good idea to duck into a stall and peel the damp fabric away from her slick labia. She had nothing to stop her from remembering how Mikayla's post-hypnotic command always tugged at her mind with an insistent undertow of pleasure that reminded her how fucking wonderful it felt when all that resistance crumbled and she did as she was told like a good girl...
Ella suddenly realized she'd deleted her last three emails without even remembering what they contained. With a sigh of frustration, she went back into her deleted items folder and double-checked to make sure they weren't important-her subconscious was pretty good at handling things when she got spacey like that, but she hated trusting it. After all, it was clearly selling her out to that sneaky bitch Mikayla every single day. Who knew what it might do if she didn't keep an eye on it?
Mindfulness, that was the key. She had to pay attention to what she was doing, keep her head in the game and not let herself get distracted. Focus on her job, not on the incessant, tingling arousal in her cunt. Keep her mind on her emails, really just stare at them and push all the other thoughts out of her head. Let go of all her other thoughts, just like when Mikayla told her to concentrate on her voice and let everything else slip away except obedience. Ella blinked thickly, noticing that her left hand had fallen into her lap and seemed too heavy to lift again. She could move it, but only back and forth. And around. And around. Staring and focusing and rubbing seemed so nice right now, so very nice.
With a titanic effort, Ella forced herself to stand. This wasn't working, she decided. She couldn't think when she was this horny, let alone resist. She needed to get off before she could do anything else. A quick trip to the restroom was in order. Once she took care of her needs, she'd be a lot clearer-headed and better equipped to resist Mikayla's suggestions, she was sure of it.
Unless this was a suggestion too, she thought to herself as she walked swiftly to the restroom. That was the real hell of being such a good hypnotic subject-Ella didn't really remember much of what Mikayla said when she put Ella under the influence. It all turned into this soft pink blur of pleasure, a warm fog that felt so good that Ella didn't need to think about anything except that happy, sexy feeling. If Mikayla told her to masturbate a couple of times before lunch, just to get those panties good and soaked before she handed them over, Ella wouldn't consciously remember a word of it. And obeying those suggestions doubtlessly weakened her will and made it easier and easier to obey the big one that she struggled so hard to resist every day. That only made sense, didn't it?
