jukeboxemcsa:

It’s the way they hang down that imprisons her. The suggestion doesn’t really seem that strong when she’s moving around the apartment; absolutely, her body feels deliciously helpless and her mind feels so wonderfully submissive when she’s crawling on her hands and knees, but she always feels like she could break free any time she wants to. She could stand up. She could walk out the door and leave Master behind, if she just had a little bit more strength. It always feels so tantalizingly easy to resist.

But then she sees herself in the mirror. He’s placed so many of them around the apartment, cunningly arranged so that she’s constantly catching sight of her own body helpless and naked on the floor. And all it takes is a glimpse for her to remember the first suggestion, the compulsion to sway and wriggle just that tiny little bit. Just enough to get her full, heavy tits swinging back and forth. Back and forth. Exactly like a pendulum. Big, pendulous breasts rocking from side to side, captivating her gaze, drawing her closer to the mirror every single time. Back and forth.

It’s so easy to be fascinated by the motion. Her gaze simply locks on to the slow, undulating sway of her heavy tits, following the nipples like they’re a pocket watch on a chain. Of course it’s easy to watch and let the gentle movement captivate her. She remembers that Master had predicted she would. Every time she tries to resist, she finds a mirror and lets her tits switch off her mind. It’s inevitable. It’s irresistible. Her breasts are so big, so sensitive. Even the way that the soft skin of her cleavage rubs smoothly together as she rocks her body easily and automatically from side to side makes her helplessly aroused. Of course it feels good to stare and sway and sink into the motion of her hypnotic breasts.

Time sort of loses its meaning as she lets her eyes focus on her tits, lets them carry her away into a soft, blank reverie of obedience. She simply lets herself feel her arousal, growing and building into mindless bliss as her hips swing and her cunt gets wetter and wetter, the motion rubbing her clit against the slick flesh of her pussy until she’s openly moaning. Her low, shuddery moans always remind her of something, the same something that her heavy, swaying tits remind her of and her inability to stand and walk remind her of. She’s… she’s something, something vacant and mindless and eager to be led. She can’t think of what it is, though. She can’t think. She doesn’t need to think. She just needs to let her tits melt her mind into surrender and sink deeper for Master.

It never fails to arouse her, seeing her face in the mirror through her peripheral vision as she stares at her heavy, pendulous breasts. She always looks so… empty. Her eyes are dull and heavy-lidded, staring down at her tits with absolutely no intelligence behind them at all. Her mouth hangs open in a mindless, lowing moan, drool dripping from her lips as her arousal and the hypnotic trance make it too easy to simply watch herself sink deeper into blank, horny submission to Master. She is a mindless animal, thoughtless and ready to be led. She’s too turned on to think. She just needs to stare, to hypnotize herself until all that resistance leaks out between her legs and she cums her thoughts away again. She just needs to cum herself blank for Master. She needs to cum. She needs to cum. She needs to–

She wakes slowly. Her mind feels thick and foggy, the mist that surrounds her thoughts deeper each time. She crawls away, feeling wonderfully helpless to rise, and continues with her day. She could stand, of course. It would be so easy. She could escape. If she only had a little more strength to resist. If only–

She sees herself again. And the programming begins anew.

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