Racey Lacey

Lacey stumbled down the short hallway into the living room still rubbing sleep from her cornflower blue eyes, grateful that her pixie cut kept her ash blonde hair from going completely bedhead the way it used to when she was growing up. She was so groggy she didn't even notice her roommate was still home until she heard Sadie's cheerful voice calling out, "Morning, Racey Lacey!" And by then her fingers were already gripping the hem of her camisole. She raised it up with a giggle, showing off her bare tits, then let it fall back down with a wave of mortified embarrassment that did more than a whole can of energy drink to wake her up.

"I thought we talked about this," Lacey pouted, crossing her arms and giving the biracial woman lounging on the couch a petulant glare. She knew grabbing her elbows wouldn't help if Sadie decided to use Lacey's trigger on her again--she could be wearing a straitjacket and she'd still do her level best to show off her shamefully undersized breasts whenever she heard those particular words--but it made her feel at least a little bit more comfortable having the conversation. Again.

Not that it was the same every time. Sometimes Sadie took the path of mock contrition, her hazel eyes sparkling with a mischief that belied her solemn expression as she crossed her heart and swore on her mother's grave that she'd never ever ever use Lacey's trigger on her ever again. Sometimes she played dumb, acting like she didn't even know what hypnosis was and pretending to be shocked every time her perfectly innocent pet name for her roommate made her raise her shirt and show off her titties in a burst of bubbly, brainless giggles that only faded when she covered up again.

And today, it looked like she was going to blame Lacey for her own predicament. "We did," she said nonchalantly, stretching out on the couch like a sleepy kitten. "And I told you it wouldn't work if you didn't want it to. S'not my problem if something inside you wants me to see your little mosquito bites." Lacey felt her cheeks flushing bright red, so flustered for a moment she could practically hear the blood rushing to her head. Bad enough she was such an apparent pushover for hypnosis, but did her subconscious mind really have to blab to Sadie all about her very particular and deeply embarrassing kink for being teased about her breast size?

There was really no recovering from that long pause and deep blush, but Lacey tried. "I, I, no, you, no, it, I, n-no it's not," she stammered, all too aware of how obviously true her total lack of composure made Sadie's words seem. "I mean, um, it don't, I mean I don't. Want you to do that to me, that is. I, I really do try to fight it, every time, I just... I can't." Pretty much every word of that was a lie--not only did Lacey wind up flashing her tits and giggling herself punch-drunk before her conscious mind even caught up to hearing the words, but she'd spent a good amount of the last few months making a study of hypnosis to see if she could reverse the effects of Sadie's trigger and she knew the other woman was absolutely right. A hypnotist really couldn't make someone do something they didn't deep down want to do.

So when Sadie gave a little smirk and said, "Is that so, Racey Lacey?", Lacey knew there really was something deep down in the back of her head that made it irresistibly enticing to reach down, pull up her cami again, and show off her tiny tits with a peal of stupefied laughter before she even realized she was doing it. If there wasn't, it would have worn off a few days after the housewarming party they threw and the impromptu hypnosis demo Sadie held that earned Lacey her nickname in their friend group. Lie as she might to her roommate, Lacey couldn't lie to herself.

"Oh, come on!" Lacey mewled querulously, practically stamping her feet in petulant anger. She knew her childish outburst only made her look faintly pathetic, eliciting a snort of derisive laughter from Sadie instead of cowing her, and what was worse she could feel the heat between her legs intensifying at being so casually dismissed and disregarded by the tall, muscular woman who held such power over her. Lacey was going to have to go into her bedroom and masturbate when this was all over, and she had a sneaking suspicion it was written plainly on her face for Sadie to see.

"I told you, baby girl," Sadie replied calmly, sitting up and stretching her long arms so high Lacey could see the underside of her ample breasts emphasizing the very obvious difference between them. "If you want to stop, all you need to do is stop. The only reason you flash those itty bitty titties when I say 'Racey Lacey' is because you're getting... something... out of it." Lacey barely even noticed the knowing pause--her mind was otherwise occupied with a bubbly laugh that made her feel light-headed and vacant--but she didn't have to actually hear it to know what Sadie was getting at. Her roommate knew what this did to her. And she was getting Lacey all worked up on purpose.

She could feel her hips beginning to squirm, an embarrassingly obvious sign of her arousal that Sadie just had to be clocking right now, but knowing she was doing it and stopping herself were two different things. "I, I don't, it's not... it's not like that," she whimpered plaintively, feeling the conversation beginning to slide downhill into an ending as predictable as it was humiliating. Lacey always wound up infuriated and aroused in equal measures by her roommate's casual ability to hammer on all her hot buttons, and knowing this exact kind of embarrassment was exactly what her pussy wanted didn't make it any easier to swallow her inevitable surrender to the wet heat between her thighs.

"Of course it's not, Racey Lacey," Sadie purred in tones of mocking amusement. Lacey's eyes crossed in a wave of dizzying pleasure as she showed off her chest and giggled yet again. The ditzy, dopey sensation inside her head seemed to take a little bit longer to clear every time, like her brain was getting clogged up with the sticky residue of the stupefied satisfaction she felt whenever she raised her shirt for Sadie and all the gears in her mind were gumming up as a result. "You're just an innocent victim of circumstance here, a poor flat-chested girl in the wrong place at the wrong time who's not staring at my tits at all."

Lacey actually heard herself grunt in naked lust at that one, her face dully throbbing with an incandescent blush as she realized she hadn't blinked in almost a full minute at the tantalizing sight of Sadie's underboob peeking out from her ratty, worn-out crop top. She was never sure whether it was her humiliation fetish that made big-breasted woman so attractive to her--something psychological, envy sublimating itself into lust or vice versa--or whether she simply lusted after hot women with big tits like any red-blooded pansexual woman. But she definitely knew that Sadie's ample breasts didn't exactly do wonders for Lacey's ability to resist going into trance. "I, uh, uh... tits?" she mumbled, her vacant brain apparently unable to move past that particular part of Sadie's sentence.

"Oh, you're talking about these, Racey Lacey?" Sadie asked, arching her back to send her boobs popping right out of her shirt just as Lacey lifted her camisole and giggled yet again. This time the gap before her mind returned to her felt almost palpable, and when she did come back it was with a muzzy film of arousal clinging to all her thoughts and making them slow and sluggish in her head. Her mouth was hanging open, she realized, and a tiny bead of saliva clung to her lower lip. She looked like a desperate, pathetic slut who was practically gagging to motorboat Sadie's big tits.

"It's--it's not fair," she muttered, her whole body swaying with the aching desire to take step after fumbling step until she fell face first into her roommate's ginormous rack. "You, you know everything about me, and you can always hypnotize me, and I can't even, even...." She trailed off into silence, all too aware that her whining only made her sound and feel even more embarrassingly weak compared to Sadie's commanding confidence. It only made it obvious that Sadie was the one in charge now, and Lacey was the horny slut who had to beg and plead and debase herself for the attention she was swearing only minutes ago she didn't want.

"You can't even keep your top on when I say 'Racey Lacey'," Sadie replied in mock commiseration, and Lacey felt her camisole come all the way up and off as she finally giggled herself into bubbly vacancy for the other woman. It was always the same, every time she thought she was trying to resist--Sadie hammered on her hot buttons until Lacey was forced to admit she craved exactly this kind of demeaning treatment, and her cunt eventually betrayed her the way they both knew it always would. It was the same with all the very special 'friends' who knew about Lacey's trigger, but none of them made Lacey feel quite as horny as Sadie did. None of them made her leak with arousal like her special, sensual Mistress and they both knew it.

Lacey couldn't help it anymore, she staggered across the room to absolutely bury her face in Sadie's cleavage, and the warm scent of clean titflesh only soothed her even deeper into trance. "That's it, my little Racey Lacey," Sadie cooed, petting Lacey's hair with a comforting touch that gave the lie to her sharp words, "it's so nice to get up close to a real pair of titties, isn't it? Not just a couple of little bumps but some big, heavy breasts to swallow you up and make you weak." Lacey mumbled something, maybe another protest or maybe a whimpering plea for more of her lover's boobs, but whatever it was it got lost in the caress of drooling lips against soft skin.

It didn't matter anyway. Lacey would happily forget the details of the encounter when she woke; it made it so much better the next time Sadie decided to take her like this.

The next few hours were something of a blur to Lacey. She vaguely recalled being made to admit how much bigger and better Sadie's breasts were than hers while she humped the dominant woman's leg, an admission that felt almost comical afterwards but at the time made her squeal in a mix of lust and embarrassment. She remembered hearing her trigger again and again, each time wringing out another profusion of giggles and an urge to fondle her bare tits that only deepened her furious blush as she realized Sadie could see every inch of Lacey's flat chest. Her hypnotized mind didn't register the expression of heavy-lidded desire in the other woman's eyes, the intensity of her stare and the sheer erotic hunger behind it... but deep down, Lacey knew. Just like deep down, she always knew exactly what she was getting out of her trances.

Eventually, though, even the most sexually charged bodies had to give in to exhaustion, and Sadie brought Lacey out of her submissive state and into a gentle trance where she reassured the hypnotized woman that she was beautiful and desired and loved. Sadie always took extra time for aftercare after a scene like this, not only for Lacey's peace of mind but her own--as hot as it was for both of them, a part of Sadie always felt terrible about what she said to her lover, and she needed Lacey to know she didn't mean a word of it. Only when they'd completely gotten out all of their emotions, sometimes with a few cathartic tears, did Sadie wake up her girlfriend and cuddle her on the couch until they were able to move again.

Lacey put her top back on. And with one final wave of drowsy ecstasy, she let herself forget that she was anything but fiercely defiant when it came to Sadie's little tricks... until the next time they were played on her, of course.

THE END