FMM Transformed By Femdom

The Rabbit Hole Chapter 1: To All the Skeptics by Trixie Adara
Penny
"For my next trick," said Penny to the quiet theatre, "I need a volunteer." Most of the crowd groaned and tried to divert their eyes from the hypnotist. Two or three people eagerly pumped and waved their hands, desperate for Penny's attention. "Not just any volunteer," clarified Penny once they settled down. "I need a skeptic."
The crowd looked uncomfortably around the room. The volunteers put their hands down. Volunteers were believers. Skeptics were the groaners. They didn't want to participate in something they didn't believe in. They wanted to mock. But this trick was the big finale. Hypnotism shows are cute; anyone can take a willing volunteer and use c***dish inductions and peer pressure to make someone do something silly. Play it safe, make them the center of attention, and give everyone a laugh. Penny wasn't like other hypnotists. Her first trick, unbeknownst to the crowd, was to induce the entire audience without their permission. The lights in the theatre, the music from the lobby, even the air fresheners plugged in throughout the theatre all worked to help put them in a receptive state. She wowed them with her control, made them forget the trick, and then left a new idea in their head: "this was the greatest show ever." From there, she gave them what they wanted. All in the spirit of showmanship. Despite all that, finales are for the unexpected, and for that, you need a skeptic.
Penny brought the lights up on the crowd so she could pick her victim. A couple of true believers nudged their skeptic dates in the crowd. Penny looked for people with a drink in their hand. Alcohol made it more frustrating to trance someone, they struggled to focus, but a small amount may make them more likely to get on stage. Penny wasn't worried about getting volunteers. Her induction at the beginning of the show made her confident she'd get someone. But she needed someone perfect. The cockier the skeptic, the more beautiful the finale.
In the back corner, a short-haired redhead kept poking her date: a thin, wiry man with a shit-eating grin on his face. He kept making comments to her and looking around, waiting to see who would volunteer. He looked perfect.
"You, there, young woman," said Penny. The whole building turned to look at the woman. She was young, maybe in her mid-twenties, with a bob haircut of deep red hair. She was in a striking green dress that sparkled from the back of the room. She blushed as soon as she realized who Penny was talking to. "Your friend there," said Penny, "he's a skeptic, isn't he?" The theatre buzzed with murmurs and the couple had some back and forth. He didn't look embarrassed at all, but the redhead looked mortified.
The young man stood up. Penny underestimated how thin he was. He was almost a twig with thick dirty-blonde hair, a clean-shaven face of a perfect fraternity asshole, with thick, full lips. He smiled and enjoyed the attention. "Skeptic is too kind of a word, Miss Penny." He looked around the room and back to his girlfriend, seeking some type of encouragement. "I think you're full of shit." The room burst out in giggles and more whispers.
"Oh?" asked Penny. Her skeptics didn't normally give a full speech about why they were skeptics, but this was better for the theatrics. "And why's that?"
"Hypnotists can't make anyone do what they don't want to do."
"Many believe that."
"So, everyone you brought up on that stage today did exactly what they fucking wanted."
"In a way, yes."
"So, you're more of a variety show than any kind of mind control shit."
"Then why did you come if you don't believe it?"
The man gestured to the redhead by his side. Her face was red with shame and embarrassment. "It was her idea. She's nuts about this shit."
"Ah, well, she's my kind of -"
"I guess I came," he interrupted, "to see what a joke you are." Penny clenched her fists. "And I must say, I was disappointed. You are a FUCKING joke!"
"You'll be perfect," muttered Penny. She looked around at the crowd. "This one sounds perfect. What do you say, ladies and gentlemen, would you like me to give it my best try?" The crowd roared in approval. People waved him to the front of the stage. He stood in place, crossed his arms in defiance, and shook his head. "What's wrong?" teased Penny. "If it's all pretend, why not expose me as a fraud? Prove to all these people that I'm a variety show. Show them your self-control." Penny smiled, and he wilted. The crowd applauded.
Penny turned away from him and set up the two stools. She preferred simplicity in her show. She didn't want to leave anyone suspicious about her power. The trance should amaze the audience, not the staging. The audience grew silent as the skeptic walked down the aisle towards the stage. They wanted definitive proof that hypnosis was real or unreal. They wanted to see Penny taken down or ascend to a level of godhood and supernatural power. Either would be a story. They'd tell their friends about the hypnotist who invited a skeptic and lost. They'd talk about the skeptic crushed under the hypnotist's power.
The skeptic climbed the steps of the stage, turned around, and bowed to his adoring fans. There was a smatter of applause for him. He walked straight to his stool and took a seat. He smirked at Penny and said, "you're not going to break me."
"I won't have to," whispered Penny. "This isn't real, remember?"
Penny turned to the audience, "What's your name?"
"Uh, Joe," said the skeptic.
"Beautiful," projected Penny. She turned to him and whispered, "Let's prove me a fraud, Joanna."
"Joe," he corrected.
"Whatever you say, Joanna."
"I'm not Joanna."
"Yet," whispered Penny. Only Joe could hear it, but he let it go. It was a threat and a challenge, but he didn't feel threatened, right? He was superhuman, right?
Joe smiled, and they both took their seats on the stools. The lights in the auditorium fell and the lights on the floor of the stage began to glow. They started with a simple pale orange. The auditorium fell silent and the soft; ambient music picked up; it was gentle, with rain sounds, bells with a hum, and a slight beat layered into it. It was designed to match the audience's heartbeats. They'd notice it, but forget it in a moment. It was better than a pendulum or metronome, and it had the feel of a high-end club downtown.
Penny raised her hands in front of Joe, letting her wrists go slightly limp. Her fingers extended as though she was going to cast a spell. It was a bit of showmanship, but also a focus for Joe. Watches and necklaces felt dated. Penny kept a bright ring on each middle finger with a large sapphire in it. Her hands began to sway, her fingers danced, and the light caught the sapphire. There was little light pointed at the stage, as she didn't want to distract Joe, but the sapphire gleamed all the way to the back of the room.
The lights ringing the edge of the stage changed to a neon pink. The lights gradually moved to oranges, yellows, greens, blues, purples, and then back to pinks. The goal was to stimulate the subject's senses in a predictable pattern. That was the best way to shut off the senses. You notice a blur rush past your peripheral vision, but you don't notice the plant that's always there. Create a new normal. Dull the senses with normal. Then, you can reach right out to the psyche and kiss it.
"How do you feel, Joanna?" whispered Penny.
"Joe," he corrected.
"How do you feel?" asked Penny so the audience could hear her.
"Bored," he sighed. He added a yawn for effect. There were a few s**ttered chuckles in the audience.
"Good," added Penny. "Let's give you something to do."
"Like make a joke out of you?" Joe smiled and turned to the audience. "You're doing all the hard work for me."
"Look at my hands." Penny kept her tone even. There was always the chance of getting a skeptic like this. It happened once in a while to get a heckler or someone who wanted to be the center of attention. It wouldn't save him from a trance, and soon it wouldn't matter at all. "It's okay if you're bored," she added. "You won't prove I'm a fake if you don't follow instructions. Look at my hands and listen to my voice." Penny waved her hands and said, "Getting sleepy, Joe?"
"No. Bored. This is all so boring."
"Yes, it is."
"It's predictable and repetitive, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"You don't know why you came at all."
"Nadia wanted to come."
"Your girlfriend?"
"Yeah." Joe's tone was losing inflection. He was falling into her. It starts with agreement. Agreement leads to oneness. Oneness leads to no-ness. Once he is nothing, he can be whatever she wants him to be.
"You like her?" whispered Penny. Parts of this had to be private. People kept up a guard when they thought hundreds of people were watching. She had to lure him into privacy, and then she could enter mind like an open window.
"She's alright."
"A bit uptight for you?"
"A bit uptight."
"Not what you normally go for?"
"Not what I normally go for."
"Girls are something you abuse isn't that right?"
"What?"
"You use them, Joanna? Talk to them like they're scum?"
"They're scum," he intoned. The words barely had meaning to him. They were true, he wouldn't say them if they were true, but to his waking mind they were a grunt or a chuckle.
"So deep now," whispered Penny. Joe's face drooped.
Penny looked out at the audience and made a shocked face, as though she couldn't believe it was working. They giggled with her. Joe did nothing. Penny looked out at the crowd for Nadia, Joe's date. The redhead was uncomfortable. She kept looking around, expecting people to look at her. No one looked at her. Joe was the show. Penny was the power. Everything worth looking at was on the stage. "Poor girl," thought Penny. "I'm probably doing her a favor. Her date is an asshole."
"Mindless deep," said Penny so the audience could hear her. Then, she lowered her voice and whispered, "what do you go for?"
"What do I go for?" he muttered. His lips moved slowly, and the words were soft. No one could hear them now.
"You want me to tell you?"
"Tell me."
"Don't you go for cock?"
"Go for cock?" asked Joe. It was risky to put such an aggressive thought in his head. Phrasing as a question was key. Going slow and helping him piece it together rather than ramming it down his mind was best.
"You like cock?"
"Like cock?"
"It's okay, Joe. Cock is good. For you. Cock is for good girls."
"Cock is good for me?"
"Good girl," cooed Penny.
You don't destroy a wall if you want to get to the other side. You go around it if you can. Minds are no different. "I heard you were a great cocksucker," suggest Penny.
"I'm a great cocksucker?"
"Oh, yes. Everyone knows you like cock."
"Everyone knows I like cock?"
"They say you have great cocksucker lips."
"I have great cocksucker lips?"
"Good girl."
"I'm not a girl," he mumbled.
"Yet," whispered Penny.
He wasn't accepting the thought. That's fine. There was time. Penny had the audience's attention, though they couldn't hear her. She had Joe's attention, though he could barely think at all. All she needed was a tiny nugget of truth from his past to latch onto and then she could build a whole new mind.
"You think about cocks, right?"
"I think about cocks?"
"That's what I heard," shrugged Penny. "I heard they called you a homo."
"They called me a homo."
"Yes dear, and it excited you."
Bingo. Of course, someone called him a homo at some point. He's got great features for a twink. Boys can be cruel. They'd tease him, but that's all Penny needs. He's not gay. That's fine. They called him gay. They called him a homo. That's a truth. She just needs to build off that tiny truth.
"They said you were gay."
"They say I'm gay," echoed Joe. He was deeper and deeper in trance. Penny was safe here. She could make a few missteps before he snapped out of it.
"You look fabulous."
"I look fabulous?"
"I bet you drove all the boys wild in school."
"I drove the boys wild."
"Good girl."
"I'm not a girl." It was a whimper now.
"Yet."
"They hit on you?"
"They hit on me."
"You liked it?"
"I liked it."
"Good girl."
"I'm not a girl?"
"Not yet."
"Their attention was flattering."
"I was flattered."
Penny looked out over the audience. Murmurs were blossoming throughout the room. The show needed to go on. She had him on a leash, his mind was hers. He was deeper in trance than the audience knew, and she could risk moving the conversation along. She whispered some additional instructions to Joe, "When you hear me say `good girl,' you will have the most mind-blowing orgasm, the strongest mind blanking, head thrashing orgasm. Every time I say it, the pleasure grows and your craving of everything I have said will become so much more intense."
She smiled and turned to face her adoring fans. "When I snap my fingers, Joe," projected Penny to the audience, "you will stand up and tell everyone one of your most embarrassing secrets." The murmurs were silenced. "You will still be in trance with me, okay?"
Joe nodded.
"I suggest you don't share anything i*****l." The crowd chuckled.
Penny snapped her fingers and Joe slowly looked up, like waking up from a nap. He blinked repeatedly and stared at Penny with dead eyes. "Do you have anything to share with the group, Joe?" Joe looked around at the crowd. They were holding their breath. This was it. This was the moment. Was hypnotism real? Was Penny a fake?
Joe smiled like he was in on the joke. "Yeah, I do," he said loudly. The light in his eyes was back. "My deepest darkest secret is that this is all fake." The crowd gasped and then laughed. "It's a load of shit. She's a shit hypnotist, and you all wasted your money." Penny rolled her eyes and looked back at the crowd. They were laughing at her. Joe was laughing at her. But that was fine. "The bitch didn't do shit!" he yells. More laughter. "I'm telling you, she can't make me do anything I don't want to do."

Penny snapped her fingers by pressing her thumbs against the base
of her sapphire rings. From a distance, it sounded like a traditional snap,
but to Joe it was a gong. He jolted off the stool and looked at his feet,
surprised to have landed on them. He looked at Penny in shock, and she
snapped her fingers and rings again. The light in Joe's eyes went out and
his neck drooped.

The audience clapped. Penny nodded appreciatively to them. She
raised her hands and took a bow. More clapping. She gestured to Joe, as
though to thank him, and the audience clapped more. She lowered her hands
with her palms facing down, as though pressing down and out the volume of
the crowd. The clapping died as her hands fell.

"Thank you, all. But we're not done yet, are we? We have to prove
definitively to this man that hypnosis is real, and he is firmly under my
control." There was a smattering of laughter. "I'd hate for him to say it
was all an act he was a part of right before he walks off stage."

Penny crossed the stage in front of Joe to make sure the other side
of the audience got to see her in her glory. She was rolling now. "Now
Joseph," she projected. She turned to Joe and bent down to condescend to
him, "I may call you Joseph, yes?"

Joe nodded. The crowd laughed. "Now Joseph," repeated Penny, "I'll need you to speak loudly when you answer me so the crowd can hear you. Okay?"
Joe nodded. "Speak up, Joseph. The people in the back can't hear you."
"Okay," said Joe.
"Louder Joseph. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to mumble?" More laughter.
"Okay," said Joe louder.

"Can everyone hear him?" shouted Penny to the crowd. There was
s**ttered nodding and mumbling of assent. "Good. I'll need everyone here to
take out their cell phone. Still no photography or video, sorry loves, but
I want you to create a new contact."

There was more murmuring. People were confused and excited, which
is precisely where a hypnotist wanted them. Penny paced back and forth in
front of Joe. She doesn't normally enjoy this part. This is her job. This
is how she pays the bills. The real fun happens back at her
penthouse. Hypnotism is her gift and her passion, but performing was a
mundane necessity of life. But Joe had pressed her buttons, and based on
his attitude, she wasn't the only one he felt comfortable belittling. Joe
needed to be put in his place, and Penny was all too happy to assist him.

"Everyone create a contact in your phone. It can be Joseph, or if
you want to be more creative, you can call him Penny's Bitch." More
laughter. Penny turned to Joe. "Joseph, please tell the good people of the
audience your phone number." Joe muttered the number, and Penny asked him
to repeat it louder. There was more chuckling.

Not everyone in the crowd put in his number. Not everyone took out
their phone. It's a bit much to ask for one hundred percent
participation. People are shy. They want to respect Joe's privacy. That's
fine. If one person contacts Joe after this, it will have been worth it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if young Joseph here claims that this was
all a hoax, that's fine. Proof is difficult with hypnosis. But proof comes
in time and with surprise. If any of you doubt this is real, feel free to
contact Joanna in a week's time and see if he remembers giving his phone
number out. He won't. Feel free to ask him if it was all an act then. Up
here, he feels brave. When he gets a message from someone he doesn't know
and doesn't remember giving his number to, he won't be brave. He'll be
honest."

There's an uncomfortable applause among the audience. This crossed
a line for some people. They imagined themselves up there giving out their
personal information. They imagined strangers contacting them and feeling
embarrassed.

They're afraid because they've realized Penny's power. Good.

"One final trick, what do you say?" Penny didn't wait for a response. They were nervous. That's fine. All you need to do with nervous people is give them someone to laugh at. That made everything sweet. "Joseph, I asked you before to share your deepest and darkest secret. Remember?"
"Yes," intoned Joe.
"Beautiful. When I clap my hands together, I want you to share, loud and proud, what your deepest and darkest secret is. Understand?"
Joe nodded.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, are you ready?" There was stronger applause. People loved to learn secrets. Hell, Penny's made a killing getting paid to find secrets from people.
Penny clapped her hands together, making sure the rings collided with each other as she did. There was a clink hidden beneath the clap. Nothing happened immediately. The audience held their breath. Joe held still. Anticipation is the key to showmanship.
Joe looked up and smiled at the audience as before. "You want to know my secret?" he asked the audience. His swagger was back. He sounded like a completely normal, arrogant asshole. They clapped and cheered. Joe leaned back and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "My secret is that I love cock!" There was a gasp and laughter, but Joe didn't wait for the room to calm down. "I'm such a good cocksucker!"
Penny looked out and saw Nadia, Joe's date. She blushed with embarrassment as the people around her turned to look at her. They whispered, but the rest of the room roared with applause and laughter. Penny stepped to the front of the stage and bowed. The laughter grew. People stood to their feet and clapped for Penny. Nadia didn't stand.
Behind Penny, Joe was still loudly declaring his love of cock and his various skills. "I have the perfect cocksucker lips! I love to suck cock!"
It wasn't true, of course. Penny couldn't change someone's sexuality so easily. That took time and patience. But in that time, you can give someone a script and get them to shout it to a room of strangers. She made Joe a co-performer, not a cocksucker.
There was still time for that. Proudly declaring to a theatre of strangers that you love cock is always a good first step to actually sucking cock. And he did have the perfect lips for it: nice and full, perfectly feminine.
Penny raised her hands to calm the audience. It took them awhile, which is always a good sign, but after a minute or two of Penny holding a raised finger against her lips, the audience quieted.
"That's it for our show tonight, but before you go, I should probably release this one back to a proper state of mind."
"Make him suck my cock!" shouted an audience member. There was more laughter. Penny held her finger back to her lips again, and they calmed down.
"Joe, when I snap my fingers, you'll be completely out of trance and free from my power. You won't remember anything, okay?"
"Okay," said Joseph. His eyes were still clear, seemingly aware of his surroundings.
Penny snapped her fingers, making sure to click the rings with her thumb as she did. Joe blinked twice, smiled, and then looked confused. The audience clapped and laughed at him, and his confusion turned to a snarl of rage.
"What the fuck?" he asked. The laughter grew louder. This was Penny's reward. Joseph wouldn't be embarrassed on stage. He'd manifest his shame in rage. "I thought you were going to hypnotize me?" he asked. The audience laughed louder.
Oh, he thought they were laughing at Penny. Perfect.
"See, this is what I'm saying, she's full of shit," said Joe. He walked to the front of the stage, as though this was his performance. "She can't do anything."
"You want to suck a cock?" shouted an audience member. More laughter.
Joe ignored him. "She told me what to say when I came up here. She scripted the whole thing." More laughter. "I was a plant in the audience. This is all an act." More laughter.
The audience was firmly in Penny's hand. There was no winning them from her now. Penny had done magic, real magic, in front of them. He might as well defy gravity.
Penny stepped up next to Joe. "Thank you for coming out tonight, Ladies and Gentlemen. Have a great night!" Penny waved and the audience clapped.
Joe turned to Penny. "What the fuck did you do?" he hissed.
"Nothing. Hypnotism is fake, isn't it?"
"Fuck you, cunt."
"I don't think you'll be fucking women for a long time." Penny smirked.
"What did you do?"
"Check your phone."
Joe did, and Penny could see a string of texts about sucking cock. "What. The. Fuck."
"You don't have an expansive vocabulary, do you?"
Joe stepped toward Penny, and she stepped back. Her thumbs instinctively went to her rings.
Joe paused inches from Penny. "What did you do?"

"You told them your deepest, darkest secret." Penny moved closer to
Joe, almost kissing him. "You love to suck cock." Penny looked out at the
audience. Some were leaving, but most were staring at the two of them. Joe
followed her eyes and wilted. Everything he did publicly weakened his
case against her. "Follow me," said Penny and walked backstage. Joe
followed.

Once behind the safety of the curtain and in the wings, his rage was back. "I'm going to sue you. You can't give out people's personal information."
"I didn't." Penny smiled. "You did."
"You made me."
"I thought hypnotists couldn't do make anyone do anything they didn't want to do?" Joe wilted. "You must have wanted to give out your phone number." She stepped towards him. "You apparently want to suck a lot of cock."
Joe pulled back his fist to punch, and Penny calmly said, "Good girl." Joe stopped. His legs tensed. His eyes spread wide, and his knees locked. His hips shook and pumped forward. He gargled a groan that build into a moan. His eyes shut, and his mouth gaped. His moan became a roar and Penny saw a dark spot grow on the crotch of Joe's tented pants. Joe came, and as he came, he lost control and fell to his knees. Some of his cum - there was so much cum- dribbled through the fabric of his pants and onto the stage floor. From his knees, Joe slumped to his side and groaned in relief.
"Joanna?" probed Penny.
"Yes?" intoned Joe.
"Stand up."
Joe obeyed.
"Let's go down the Rabbit Hole."
Penny grabbed the collar of Joe's shirt and pulled him deeper backstage.

***********
In Penny's lab, Joe was strapped to a chair. The Apparatus was set
up for him; one monitor positioned in front of him, one monitor to his
right and one to his left. The monitor in his peripherals would let the
simple lights glow: soft neon pink to oranges, yellows, greens, blues,
purples, and then back to pinks. The screen in front of him was a simple
repeating geometric pattern. It was a fractal that zoomed in on itself,
revealing its infinite nature. The pattern didn't matter. It distracted the
mind. Occasionally, a cock dripping cum would flash barely in the
pattern. Joe's conscious mind would never pick it up. His eyes would barely
register it. But his subconscious found it and latched on to it.

The simple pulsing music played in headphones. It was more of a hum than
static; much like listening to a refrigerator. Soft electric beats followed
and then set the pace of Joe's heart. Occasionally, a man's moan would be
layered on top of the music. It never came in regular intervals, and it was
often hours between moans. That would increase later. The music didn't
matter. It distracted the mind. It wasn't too loud. It couldn't be louder
than Penny. Penny's voice was primary. Her words were essential.

Before any true love of cock could begin, before sexual orientation could
be changed or gender could be reassigned, before his personality could be
overhauled, before his mind could become a playground for Penny, her words
must become reality to him. Her words must be the absolute truest thing in
the universe. She must become the fountain of fact.

"There are so many places to start you with, Joanna," whispered
Penny. "I'll have to take my time so you can learn your lesson. But I'm
horribly impatient."

Joe muttered something. He could barely hear her. Sometimes he called out
for some random name. His mother? His friends? It didn't matter. He was
barely in there. He was in the Rabbit Hole. His mind was becoming
nothingness. From nothing, she could rebuild him.

Penny picked up Joe's phone and scrolled through his messages. Several were from Nadia asking where he was. Some were from other friends or family members asking where he was. Some taunted him about the show. Some reminded him what he said.
Penny's favorites were the one's asking Joe to suck their cock. Penny only responded to those. "Where? When?" she sent.
Joanna would need practice when Penny was done.

*******************************************************************
Chapter 2: The Question by Trixie Adara
Nadia
Nadia looked at the door to Penny's penthouse. She was surprised
the hypnotist returned her call and even more surprised when the hypnotist
invited her to come by. The building had an honest-to-god doorman. The
elevator had a doorman. Security guards were roaming the hallways on the
lower floors.
But the top floor, Penny's floor, was empty. Nadia stepped off the
elevator onto a small landing in front of a large oak door. Nadia looked at
the doorman (elevator man?) and smiled. The elevator man smiled back.
"I just get off here and knock on the door?" asked Nadia.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered.
"Giant wooden door?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Not a scary giant wooden door, right?"
"No, ma'am."
"It's a perfectly ordinary giant wooden door belonging to a
powerful hypnotist."
"That's right."
"And I just ... knock on it?" asked Nadia.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, sure, this makes sense Nadia." She shrugged and walked off the elevator. "Just go to a hypnotist and ask her where your boyfriend is."
She looked all around the door for some type of doorbell or way to announce her presence. "Do I just walk in? I walk right in? That's not creepy, right? I mean, she knows I'm coming. I called her. She gave me a time. She knows." Nadia sighed and looked back at the elevator man, then back at the door. "Aaaand you're talking to yourself. Out loud. Perfect."
Nadia shrugged her shoulders and knocked on the door. Nothing happened. She tapped her foot. Nadia tried to imagine what was going beyond the door. Was it some exotic palace of mind experiments? Was it some psychedelic experience? Was it like a ward for the mentally ill? Or was it nothing at all? It could be nothing at all.
The door opened. An older man in a suit, a butler looking suit,
stood before Nadia. He looked to be in his upper 50s. He smiled and said,
"Yes?"
"Uh, hi," said Nadia. "I'm ... uh ... Nadia ... I have an
appointment?"
"Ah, yes. Miss MacQuarrie, is it? Miss Penny is expecting you." He stepped out of the way and let Nadia in. Nadia stepped past butler man and gasped. "Holy Santa Claus," she mumbled. The penthouse was beautiful. Nadia stood at some type of landing or foyer. A wall blocked her way and led to an open living room to her left and a beautiful dining room to her right. Both the living room and the dining room had floor to ceiling windows on the outer wall. The windows showed the entirety of Memphis below and around Nadia for miles.
"This way, miss," said the butler. He led Nadia to the living room, to the left, and through it. Nadia saw that to the right, between the dining room and the living room, was a large open kitchen with marble countertops and islands. It was one large room: dining room, living room, and kitchen, that sprawled over and into each other.
Everything was clean. Everything was pristine. Everything was ... sterile. Everything was dry. Everything was choreographed. It looked like a furniture catalogue more than a place where a person lived. It was all white and brown and grey and marble and stainless steel. Where was the color? Where were the accidents and stains?
Also, where was Penny?
The butler stood on the other side of the living/dining/kitchen
room, waiting for her. He was judging her. Nadia could feel it. Here she
was, an adorable ginger in a dark green flared dress, rain boots, a maroon
cardigan, and bright, fake gold beads in the middle of the epitome of posh and professional. Her existence in this room was an affront to its taste.
Nadia tended to dislike fancy people and fancy money. They liked
their money because it gave them a mask, a shield. They think it buys them
two identities. It doesn't. It's all artifice. It reminded Nadia of home
and a house that was more museum than home. It reminded her that the
punishment for a stain and forgetting a coaster were the same. Her hands
clenched without her permission.
"This way," said the Butler. Bucky. Nadia was going to call him Bucky the Butler in her mind. That'd help her relax. Bucky the Butler led her past the living/dining/kitchen room to another hallway. This hallway came to a dead end and split in two different directions. Bucky went right, and Nadia followed. He stopped in front of another impressive oak door and knocked. There was a mumble from the other side.
The door opened to reveal a woman in her late thirties with dirty
blonde hair. She was taller than Nadia, almost six feet, but that was exaggerated heeled sandals with pale pink straps. She wore skinny jeans and a pink tank top, each of which looked like they cost more than Nadia's entire outfit. Over her tank top was a sheer chiffon blouse with a wide neck that it dangled over one of her shoulders. Her hair was loose, but clearly styled with something to give it model-level waves.
She was everything Nadia was not.
"Yes?" she asked, without looking up from her phone.
"Miss MacQuarrie, Ma'am," said Bucky. He gestured to Nadia and
stepped out of the way.
"Ah, yes," said Penny to her phone. "Come on in." Penny turned
around and went back into her office. Nadia looked to Bucky, who gestured
for Nadia to follow, and walked away, back towards the kitchen.
Nadia shrugged and followed the beautiful hypnotist into what certainly could be her lair of destruction.
Penny's office was similar to everything else: clean. It was
designed like a ther****t's room. It had a couch for lying down and a couch
for sitting on in the back. It had two comfortable armchairs. It had a
gorgeous desk that looked like something the president would use. Lining
the office were bookshelves. Nadia turned her head to read title after
title about psychotherapy, hypnosis, the brain, the senses, the psyche,
neurosis, the subconscious, and more and more until she got dizzy.
She bumped into a chair facing Penny's desk and looked up. Penny
was already seated, still clicking away on her phone.
"Sit," suggest Penny. Nadia sat. "How can I help you Miss
MacQuarrie?"
"Please," said Nadia, "Miss MacQuarrie is my mother. You can call
me Nadia."
Penny looked up from her phone. She did not smile.
"Uh ... right. I was at your show a few weeks ago. And -"
"When?" interrupted Penny.
"A few weeks ago, ..." said Nadia with a condescending tone.
"When a few weeks ago? I have four shows a week."
"Um, right. S-sure." Nadia rummaged through her purse, looking for
her phone. The date, Nadia. She wants the date. Focus. "Ummm ...." said
Nadia while she unlocked and scrolled through her phone. "It looks like
April 21st?"
"It looks like April 21st or it is April 21st?" asked Penny, her
eyes still glued to her own phone.
"It is April 21st. April 21st for sure. Totally, definitely, April
21st," rambled Nadia. She put her phone away, took a deep breath, and
sighed.
"What about that show? Have you been feeling any strange symptoms?
If so, I'll need you to contact my lawyer. Otherwise, all sales are final
and there are no refunds."
Penny kept her eyes in her phone. She wasn't listening. She wasn't
paying attention. Joe was missing. He'd been missing for weeks ever since
he went backstage with her. He didn't take her home. He didn't respond to
calls. The police hadn't found anything except a mysterious note about him
taking a vacation to Hawaii. Joe hated the beach. He wasn't in Hawaii.
And for Penny to sit here and dismiss Nadia? For her to assume that
Nadia was nothing except another legal complaint or whining customer asking
for a refund? No. Hell no.
"Can you put down your phone?" asked Nadia. In her head, her tone
had more strength than it really did. There was a slight squeak to it, but
it got Penny's attention. The hypnotist looked up from her phone and stared
into Nadia.
Nadia braced herself to be hypnotized. She couldn't see the details of what Penny did to Joe, but she knew Penny's power was real. Joe can say he was acting and pretending to show Penny as a fraud, but Nadia knew better. Joe was completely under Penny's thumb. If Penny could do that to Joe, what could she do to Nadia? Could she make Nadia forget that Joe ever existed? Could she ask Nadia to empty her pockets and give Penny all her personal information?
Nadia shivered and waited.
But nothing happened. Penny glared, and then slowly put her phone down next to her. "Sure," said Penny, but she didn't smile. She wasn't pleased.
"I went to that show with my boyfriend, Joseph Warner. Though he calls himself Joe."
Penny's eyes flicked to her phone, but she didn't pick it up. Slowly, her gaze locked back onto Nadia.
"He was your volunteer, your skeptic, for the finale. You got him to say that he wanted to be a ... or he was a ... a ..."
"Cocksucker?" asked Penny. She smiled at the memory.
"Yes," said Nadia. She blushed and looked her hands, both folded in her lap.
"I remember. Is he upset? Is he offering to sue for defamation of character? He can contact legal if her needs -"
"He's been missing since the show," interrupted Nadia.
"Has he?" asked Penny. She didn't hesitate. "How many weeks is that?"
"Four," said Nadia quickly. "There was an investigation, but apparently he left the show and got on a plane for Hawaii? It doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any sense."
"In all my years of studying the human mind, I've found one constant: people are strange and surprising."
"Maybe," said Nadia, chewing her lip.
"He hasn't called?" asked Penny after a moment of silence.
"No."
"No explanation?"
"No."
Penny stood and smoothed out her jeans in one quick motion. "I'm not a relationship expert, Miss MacQuarrie. I can't help you understand why he left." Penny grabbed her phone and stepped around the desk to - "Did you make him do it?" whispered Nadia.
"Hmm?" said Penny, stopping in her tracks.
"Did you make him do it? Leave, I mean. Was that your influence?"
"No, dear. I made him say he was a cocksucker. Even I can't make him an actual cocksucker."
"You can't?" asked Nadia, looking up at Penny.
Penny shook her head. "Follow me," she said and walked out of the office.
Nadia grabbed her bag and scrambled to follow. Penny walked back through the hallway to the open living/dining/kitchen room. Penny stopped by one of the giant windows where Bucky the Butler was cleaning.
"Hypnosis is a dance, not an invasion. I can suggest. I can lead, but I can't totally control. I can't rewrite someone. There has to be a willingness. For example," Penny gestured to Bucky. She snapped her fingers and resonate gong floated across the room. Bucky became very still.
"I can ask Maurice to cluck like a chicken. I can suggest. I can lead. But I can't force. If he does cluck for me, it won't be all me. Some part of him will be giving me permission. Some part will be following and trusting. Some part of him will want to cluck."
Penny whispered something in Bucky's ear. Bucky began to cluck
wildly like a chicken. He flapped his arms and everything. Nadia blushed
with embarrassment for the man. He already worked for Penny; he was already
under her control. But to invade his mind? To take more of him away and put
himself even further under her thumb?
It was kinda hot.
"Perhaps he wants to impress you? Perhaps he wants to impress me?
Maybe he fears for his job or his paycheck? Maybe he likes the attention?
It doesn't matter the reason. You must know that he is participating. He is
not a doll I can empty and fill with whatever I want." Penny snapped her
finger. Bucky stopped clucking, relaxed, and went back to cleaning. "No one
can do that."
"Oh," said Nadia.
"So, I couldn't make your boyfriend - what was his name?"
"Joe."
"Right. I couldn't make Joe leave you or go to Hawaii unless he
wanted to, some part of him. And I certainly wouldn't benefit by doing
so. It'd hurt my reputation if people at my show were afraid of me."
Nadia chewed her lip. She looked at her watch to check the
time. She didn't have too much time to waste. She had half an hour. But she
needed answers, and she still had one question--the question--that she
wanted to ask Penny as soon as she saw the poster for Penny's show and the
videos of Penny's power. One question that forced her to drag Joe to a show
he'd hate. One question she'd wondered about since she was a little
girl. But not now. Now isn't the time for that question.
"Does that mean that Joe wanted to ... or that he was ... or that
he likes ... "
"Sucking cock?" finished Penny.
Nadia nodded, blushing.
"I have no idea. Some part of him wanted to say that. Some part of
him wanted the attention or maybe the humor. I don't know. All I know is
that I can make people open to my suggestions. I can lead them."
"But you can't control people?" asked Nadia. Closer to the
question.
"Only if they let me," said Penny with a wink.
Nadia shivered. Penny laughed. Penny walked past Nadia, back
towards her office, and Nadia followed. Penny sat in her chair and put her
phone down on the desk, the screen facing away from her.
"Tell me more about yourself, Miss MacQuarrie," she said as Nadia
sat.
"Well, for one, call me Nadia, seriously."
Penny nodded.
Nadia waited and then shrugged. "What do you want to know?"
"I know you didn't come here to ask if I sent Joe to Hawaii. You
know I didn't."
Nadia sighed. "It was a long shot, yeah."
"Then why are you here?"
Nadia picked at her fingernails in her lap. This was dangerously
close to the question. It was dangerously close to why she came to the show
and why she bought audio files and why she stayed up late watching strange
videos and -
"You were curious?"
Nadia nodded.
"About Joe or about me?"
"Yes?" asked Nadia. Penny smiled.
"About hypnosis?"
Nadia nodded.
"I have a few more minutes before I have another meeting. Go ahead
and ask anything you want. Was my demonstration helpful?"
"Sort of," said Nadia. "I mean, if it is about the person
participating, does that mean you can hypnotize yourself?"
Penny shrugged. "Sure. There are audio files or videos that attempt
to do that. They're crude and basic, but they can create a shallow trance
in an eager mind."
"A shallow trance?"
"When I hypnotize someone, I take them deep. I can go into their
psyche, their c***dhood, their core personality, their memories, or
anything really. It has to go past what the consciousness is willing to go
into and get into the subconscious. If you download an audio file to help
you quit smoking, you already want to quit. The audio file can never go
deeper than the consciousness because the consciousness chose the file."
"That makes sense."
"Some could argue that to be truly hypnotized, there must be
another force, an outsider force, leading the conscious mind or the
subconscious. The tapes are predetermined. They are chosen by the
subject. They aren't led. They are a path. I am a scout."
"So someone can't hypnotize themselves?"
"You wouldn't believe what we could do to ourselves, but no, not
truly. It would be more like a guided meditation. Possible, but not the
same. Why do you ask?"
"Can someone be immune to hypnosis?" asked Nadia quickly.
"No," said Penny firmly.
"You're sure?"
"I'd stake my career on it."
Nadia sighed. That was good news, right? It meant it was
possible. It meant it wasn't just a fantasy. But it also meant she was
doing something wrong. What was she doing wrong?
"There are some people," added Penny, "that can resist better than
others. Some are more difficult to trance. But no one is immune to it. At
least not immune to me. If there were some, I wouldn't take volunteers from
the crowd. I couldn't risk it."
Nadia picked at her nails some more. She checked her watch
again. She needed to go soon. She needed to ask the question or get out of
here. She needed to get the answer she'd spent over a decade searching
for. She needs to be brave. She needed to -
"What's wrong?" asked Penny.
Nadia looked up and was surprised by what she saw. The woman before
her was transformed. Penny leaned forward, an arm outstretched across the
desk, as though to reach for Nadia, but not quite leaving the surface of
the desk. Not a complete gesture. His calm mask of power was replaced with
complicated concern. Nadia could see pity and weakness and fear and
compassion mashed together across Penny's furrowed brow and open mouth.
"Nothing," said Nadia.
Penny's hand reached further to the edge of the desk. "You can tell me."
Nadia sighed, flaking off some of her nail polish. "It's just ..."
started Nadia. "It's just that I've been curious about hypnosis since I was a little girl."
"Yes?" said Penny. The hypnotist sat back in her chair, retreating
her open hand from across the desk to her lap. He face became placid, he eyes searched Nadia for some deeper layer once more.
"But I can't do it."
"Do what?"
"Be hypnotized?"
Penny smiled and let out a half snort, a half laugh.
"What?" asked Nadia.
"You can't be hypnotized?"
"No."
"Have you gone to a hypnotist?"
"A few in college," muttered Nadia.
"Students?" laughed Penny.
"Yeah," muttered Nadia, her face burning with shame.
"And audio files and videos, right?" asked Penny.
"Yeah."
"Then you haven't tried, dear," said Penny. "Not even close."
"Then can ..." Nadia stopped herself. Not now. Not here. This is about Joe. Don't make this about you, Nadia. Not everything is about you.
"Can what?" asked Penny, still amused. "Can I hypnotize you?"
Nadia's skin went cold. Her flesh erupted in goosebumps. Was this
it? Was Penny going to take her under? To empty her out? To make her a
doll, a toy, a nothing? Was she going to be helpless and -
No, Nadia. Now isn't the time for the question. Not for you. Not
ever. Put that away.
"N-n-no," stammered Nadia. "Don't worry about it. You have a
meeting. I have a meeting, I'd have to pay you, right? I can't pay
you. Don't worry about it. Let's leave it alone for now and pretend I never
-"
"Close your eyes."
Nadia obeyed instantly. Nadia heard something clock and the sound
of rain and gentle bells and chimes filled the office. Nadia heard Penny
stand up, and start to walk around the office. Through her eyelids, Nadia
felt the office become dark. "Just breathe," said Penny. "Keep
breathing. Breathe out for six seconds through your mouth, and inhale for
eight seconds through your nose. Focus on that. Count the seconds. Don't
worry about anything else." Nadia obeyed. Eight seconds. This was it. Six
seconds. It was finally going to happen. Eight seconds. She'd spent a
fortune on websites and supporting hypnotists online. Six seconds. But this
was different. Eight seconds. Penny was real. Six seconds. Penny was right
in front of her. Eight seconds. And Penny was going to take her under. Six
seconds. Penny was going to make her blank. "Good," said Penny. Eight
seconds. She was behind Nadia. Six seconds. Nadia felt Penny's hands on her
shoulders. Eight seconds. She shivered. Six seconds. Finally. Eight
seconds. Yes. Six seconds. Please. Eight seconds. Yes. Six seconds. "Are
you ready?" asked Penny. Nadia nodded. "When you hear my rings, you'll go
deep for me," said Penny. Nadia breathed. Eight seconds. Six seconds.
Then the rings clicked and a resonate gong filled the room. It sent warm
kisses all over Nadia's skin. She sighed, letting out more than breath.
This was it. She was deep. She was under. Right? "Nadia?" asked Penny.
"Yes?" "How do you feel?" "Good," said Nadia. Good, right? She felt good?
"You're down the Rabbit Hole," said Penny. "The Rabbit Hole," repeated
Nadia. That felt like the thing to do. "Deep down the Rabbit Hole." "The
Rabbit Hole." "Now down there, you can see all your worry about Joe."
"Worry about Joe." "It's like a red web of lighting," said Penny. "I want
you to grab it." "Grab it." "And rip it up." "Rip it up?" "Yes, rip it
up. You don't need it anymore. Don't worry about Joe." "Don't worry about
Joe." "Joe is safe." "Joe is safe." "Joe is gone." "Joe is gone." "Joe
is happier where he is." "Joe is happier where he is?" asked Nadia. Why?
What was wrong with her? Why would he leave her? Sure, she wasn't the ideal
mate for someone like Joe, but she tried. Dammit, she tried. "Nadia is
happier without Joe." "I'm happier?" asked Nadia. Was she? Joe wasn't
perfect. He was an asshole half the time. But he liked her. He complimented
her. He noticed her. He wanted her. Didn't he? "Yes, you're much happier
without him." "Okay." "Think about Joe. Picture him in your mind."
"Okay." "What was one thing about him that you didn't like, that drove you
crazy?" asked Penny. "He had a filthy mouth," said Nadia. "Yes, he did."
"He was rude." "Yes, he was." "I didn't like that," said Nadia. "No one
would. And now you don't need to hear all those filthy words ever
again. You're free from that. Isn't that nice?" "Nice." "That's much
better." "Better." "You don't need Joe." "I don't need Joe." "I don't?"
asked Nadia. Nadia opened her eyes. Penny was behind her, pacing. "Are you
sure?" asked Nadia. "Because I'm not so sure." "You're better off without
you. You're too good for him." "I wish that was true," whispered Nadia.
Penny crossed in front of Nadia. "Are you in the Rabbit Hole?" asked Penny.
"What's the Rabbit Hole?" "What do you mean?" asked Penny. "What do you
mean?" echoed Nadia. "Where are you right now?" "In your office." Penny
walked away from Nadia. The lights turned on in the office. Penny walked to
her desk and clicked a button beneath the top. The rain and bell sounds
stopped. "What just happened?" asked Penny. "You turned on the music and
turned off the lights and I breathed and then you snapped and you talked to
me." "Did you go down the Rabbit Hole?" "You keep asking me that, what is
that?" Penny stared for a long time at Nadia. At first, Nadia thought she
had done something wrong? Was that why she couldn't be hypnotized? Was she
doing it wrong? In all the videos she saw, everyone else went under so
easily, so quickly. Hypnotists were like gods or goddesses walking in and
out of the minds of those who encountered them. It seemed like the
hypnotists had all the power and did all the work. But maybe the subjects
were doing something too, something Nadia didn't understand. Was this her
fault? Was she broken? "I need to go," said Penny as she stood up. "I have
a meeting." "Wait," said Nadia as she stood. "Did it work? Did I go
under?" "No," muttered Penny. "Something went wrong. I'll need to check my
equipment."
"It wasn't me?" said Nadia with a sigh of relief. "There isn't
something wrong with me?"
"No. It's not you," said Penny. She was going around the office,
collecting her bag and things to leave. "No one is immune to hypnosis."
"Especially not if they want it as badly as I do," said Nadia.
Penny paused and looked at her. "No. Especially not you." Penny's
distracted expression softened. "I promise it's not you." She reached into
her purse and pulled out a wallet. From that, she grabbed a business
card. "Here," she said as she handed it Nadia. "This is my personal
number. Call me to find another time to try again. I promise it's not
you. We'll just have to figure out what was wrong my equipment and try once
more. Okay?"
Nadia took the card and smiled. "Okay."
Penny's phone vibrated. She checked it, and put it into her
bag. "But I really do need to go." Penny walked out of the office and Nadia
followed.
"I have to go too. I have a meeting with my principal."
"You teach?" Penny's heels clicked as they walked through the poshe
living room towards the elevator.
"High school English," said Nadia.
"That's ... cute," said Penny. She pressed the button for the
elevator, and both women stood side by side, waiting for it to arrive. "We
need more people like you. Teaching, that is," said Penny.
"Thanks," said Nadia. She was used to people thanking her for her
work. It's what everyone said when they didn't know what to say about her
work. It was fine.
The elevator arrive and they both stepped on it. Penny pressed the
button for the lobby, and they both waited while they descended dozens of
floors.
"I'm sorry I can't help you more with Joe," said Penny, checking
her phone again.
"It's alright. I don't think he was really that into me."
"Using you for your body?" joked Penny.
Nadia didn't laugh.
"He has to come back, right?" asked Nadia. "He can't have moved to
Hawaii."
"I've heard of people doing crazier things," said Penny.
"Yeah, but not Joe. Joe wouldn't do that."
The elevator beeped and the doors opened to the lobby. "You
wouldn't believe what people can do with the slightest push," said Penny.
Nadia opened her mouth to respond, but Penny was already clicking
away down through the lobby, towards the front door.

**********
Nadia stared out of her cramped apartment while the cup of tea
warmed her hands. Around her were s**ttered clothes, unfinished paintings,
stacks of books, and of course, her journal.
Her journal was never far from her. Her ther****t told her to write
down her dreams, including her daydreams. If any were interesting, she was
supposed to bring them to him.
But she would never let anyone see what she'd written down.
On the tiny saucer by the windowsill sat two blue pills, two large white pills, and one maroon-ish circular pill. Tea and pills. 4:30. Everyday. Her appointment with her
principal. ADHD. Anxiety. Mood-swings. All the fun stuff.
For years, Nadia's mother didn't hesitate for the latest
regiment. Whatever the dose. Whatever the cost. "Medicine is for
sickness. You don't debate doctors."
But Nadia had sought more natural
cures. Meditation. Yoga. Therapy. And ... hypnosis.
It didn't work. It never worked. Even with one of the most powerful
hypnotists in the world, Nadia was still broken. And what did she expect?
Penny would put her in a trance and take away her problems? Her faults? Her
weaknesses? Penny would snap her fingers and Nadia would finally be
perfect.
"It doesn't work like the stories," she muttered. She took another sip of her tea, turned around, and grabbed her journal.
This is where she kept her dreams. Her daydreams. Her nightly
dreams. Her nightmares. Her ... wet dreams. And they were all wet these
days, more and more so. Each one started the same. Another
hypnotist. Another promise of her gaining control of her mind. Another
hope. Their inductions were different, but they all wanted her to go
deep. They wanted to take her under. They wanted to make her blank so they
could feel around and see what she was made of.
Last night's dream featured an intelligent hypnotist: dark eyes and thick glasses. He wore a flannel shirt and simple black tie. He was a nerd, but Nadia noticed his eyes glancing at her chest during the trance. She was trancing him, she always did. Her body, her sighs, her soft moans as they took her deeper under.
He wanted her to tell him what she was thinking. But it was nothing. She was thinking nothing. She was a blank slate, something to be written on. She asked what he was thinking, and whatever he said, she repeated. She took his words, and they became hers.
He liked her breasts.
She liked her breasts.
He liked her cleavage.
She liked her cleavage.
He wanted more cleavage.
She wanted more cleavage.
He wanted to see her naked.
She wanted to see herself naked.
And so it went, the marionette strings of his words became her
reality. She was becoming him. He was becoming her. She was decreasing. He
was increasing. His thoughts occupied two bodies. Her thoughts occupied
none. When his thoughts urged her to move, she moved. When her thoughts
urged her to move ...
No. She had no thoughts.
He thought she should undress him. She did.
She thought he should touch him. She did.
He thought she should get on her knees. She did.
She did and she did and she did and she did. She agreed. She
complied. She wanted. She became he. He moved the extension of his body,
formerly her body, until its mouth was around his cock. The extension of
his body sucked and licked. The extension obeyed his every whim.
Reading the journal, Nadia squirmed in her seat, clenching and
unclenching her thighs. Dr. Hazel didn't want to read these dreams, but
Nadia did. She read them over and over. She read them as though they could
trance her, as though reading them would make them real in her mind. She
sighed as her eyes rolled over the pages, revisiting the dream from last
night. Or the daydream from this morning. Or the fantasy driving to Miss
Penny's.
One where she becomes a doll.
One where she becomes a whore.
One where she becomes a slave.
One where she becomes a bimbo.
One where she becomes a lesbian.
One where she becomes nothing at all.
All of them calling her, beckoning her transformation. Each one a
siren in the dreary sea of her mind. Each one a promise and a fantasy. Each
one a dream and a hope. Each one so far away and impossible. Each one naive
and remote.
But in her dreams, she could have them all.
Nadia's hand found the top of her mound over her clothes. She
pressed into it, sunding thunder and heaven up her body. She pressed again,
swirling around. She was already so close. She didn't need a body to
cum. She didn't need a mind to cum. When she dreamed, she was always so
close to cumming.
Another circle. She moaned, dropping her journal to the
floor. Another circle, she fell back onto the bed, spreading her
legs. Another circle, she clawed at her dress, trying to get free, but
failing. Another circle, she moaned so loud the neighbor banged on the
floor beneath her to shut her up. Another circle, and her eyes went
wide. The world went white.
She saw Penny, standing behind her, while she told the crowd what a
good cocksucker she was. Her phone exploded with texts begging to suck
their cocks. She wanted to. Penny wanted her to. Penny made her. Penny
remade her.
She came.
She tore at the sheets, writhing around, but she kept quiet. She
didn't want to get thrown out of another apartment for being too loud.
When she finally caught her breath, she returned to the window. The
tea was cold. It didn't matter. She took her medicine anyways.
Anything to help her mind.

*******************************************************************
The Rabbit Hole Chapter 3: Misdirection by Trixie Adara
Penny
It wasn't the equipment.
As soon as Nadia left, Penny checked in on Joe. He was fine, right where she left him: drooling in front of the monitors and learning the valuable lesson that lace and silk are better against his skin than anything masculine. The more flowy, the better. The more sheer, the better. The softer, the better. Less is better.
It's an important lesson for a slut to learn.
But he was safe. He was twenty feet from Nadia the whole time, and she had no idea. Penny wasn't worried about Joe. She'd never been caught before. She wouldn't be caught now.
But she was worried about Nadia. She should have gone under. She should have gone down the Rabbit Hole. Her mind should have been in Penny's hand, like clay for the making. Everything was fine. The sounds and lighting worked. She checked her rings three times. Those were fine. It should have worked.
But she couldn't trance Nadia.
Her whole life, trancing came naturally to her. She could trance people on accident. She could force them to submit or forget or lose time. Even as a little girl, people around her would forget things and remembered what she said instead. And those were the accidents. She never failed to trance a target. She never failed to ensnare the person she wanted. Everyone was a target. Everyone was marble to be shaped to her liking.
Everyone but Nadia.
After checking the equipment, Penny went back to Joe. Was it her?
Had she lost some part of her power? It's true Nadia caught her off guard. It was like talking to a c***d. Nadia was desperate and interested and flirtatious and awkward and .... young. She was so young. Was that what threw Penny off?
No. Joe was fine. Joe was under her control. He loved to crossdress for her. He was interested in sucking cock. He wasn't a whore yet. He wasn't a woman yet. But where before there was arrogance and toxic masculinity, now there was a shy, bi-curious crossdresser. He was hungry to try, to learn. He did exactly as she told him. He wanted whatever she filled his mind with.
No, it wasn't Penny.
It had to be Nadia.
Joe tried to walk ahead of Penny, eager to get to the theater. He didn't know there was no rush. The theater wasn't going anywhere, and the men who went there didn't go to watch. They went to find each other in the dark. And a cutie like Joe would be the perfect bait for them. Joe wanted to enjoy his "date" with Miss Penny. He wanted to wear his new dress. He wanted to try on the heels she bought for him. He wanted to show off his new haircut and makeup. Penny brought in professionals to help with these. Joe presented himself as Penny's friend and sometimes lover. The
girls thought he was cute. They always think Penny's latest boyfriend is cute.
Joe made a convincing woman. It was about making sure not to overdo it. He couldn't look like a swimsuit model. He had to look like a strong, semi-masculine woman. Nothing too clingy to show he doesn't have curves. Nothing too bland so he doesn't look like a grandmother. Jeans. A loose tank top. A pixie haircut. Makeup. A choker. A purse. Heels. Sunglasses. He was already thin with thick lips. It wasn't too difficult to believe he was a woman.
He almost looked graceful and too comfortable.
Luckily, Joe lost his balance on the heels and stumbled, allowing Penny to catch up. She gripped his elbow tight. "Don't walk ahead of me," she hissed under her breath.
"I want people to see me," he whined. "I want to know if I'm convincing."
Of course. His personality was still intact. Total subversion into a blubbering cock sucking slut and submissive cunt would take time. He wanted to be the center of attention, even in drag. Soon, he'd want to be the center of attention as a woman. That'd fit his new slut life perfectly.
"Stop," ordered Penny.
Joe obeyed.
"You want to be seen?" asked Penny.
Joe nodded.
"You want to go see the movie?"
Joe nodded.
"Maybe put those cocksucker lips to use?"
Joe nodded.
"Go find the nearest man. Tell him your full name. Tell him where you're going. Tell him what you're hoping to do. If he starts to walk away, shout it so he can't avoid it."
Joe hesitated. Exhibitionism and free use weren't part of his personality yet. This was pushing him. But Penny didn't care. His personality could snap and he could end up with brain damage. It didn't matter. He should obey. He shouldn't be able to resist.
Penny snapped her fingers. Joe's eyes got a glossy look, and he staggered away from her. He nodded and saw a man by the corner up ahead. He went to tell the stranger all about his exciting day.
The man didn't stick around to hear it, so Joe shouted after him. "I'm hoping that some of the men will let me suck their cock during the movie!" People stopped and stared at him, but he kept obeying Penny's orders. "I've never done it before, but I'm excited to try and learn."
Some of people on the street walked around Joe, giving him a wide berth. Other's walked past as quickly as they could. Joe stood, dumbfounded at his own behavior. But he smiled when Penny caught up to him, interlaced
her arm in his, and walked him to the theater.
It was unfortunate that Penny had to supervise this herself. She didn't want to watch some trash movie or see how Joe beg to suck cock. But she had to be there in case something happened to the trance. There was no one else she could trust to supervise Joe or trance him again if the hold broke. It had to be her. She was the one with the power.
The movie was some poorly reviewed horror film with no quality acting or writing to be found. The theater always chose to show something no c***d could or would go see. Besides, horror films were usually dark, and the movie wasn't what drew the crowds.
As they walked in, Penny saw four different men seated throughout the theater. They never sat near each other. Penny had been here with others she feminized. It never had more than ten men. They sat in their own rows and preferred their own sections. To solicit one, you just moved to them and sat next to them. Hands would fumble in the dark. Sometimes one person would sink down and disappear until they came emerged minutes later, hair messy and face sticky. Most of these men would consider themselves straight. Most of them think of this as a harmless diversion, no more indicative of their sexuality than masturbating.
"I'm so excited!' squealed Joe as we find our seat. "I don't really like horror movies, though," he said.
"I see the bimbo programming is going well," said Penny.
"What?" asked Joe.
"Exactly."
The lights went down and the movie began. Dark woods. Perfect. Darkness made the patrons confident. Penny didn't just want to test drive Joe today. She wanted to hurt him. He was a bully. He was a tyrant. He wasn't just an asshole. She could see it in the way Nadia acted a few days ago. He wasn't just cruel to strangers and hypnotists for attention. He hurt people. He liked to hurt people. He liked to surround himself with injured and fearful people that needed his attention and affirmation. Penny was going to fix him. Penny was going to make him regret a thousand decisions and a million slight cruelties.
Penny was going to enact justice.
But for now, she was going to stretch him. Just a bit. She didn't want to break him. A c*** was too good for him. But this shouldn't be the best day of his life. Everyday should be another step closer to an eternal hell for him. Penny had the power to do it. She'd break him down. Rewrite him. Rebuild him.
And then, when he least wanted it, she'd pull back the curtain and show him what he was. She'd reinstate his mind in a slut's body with cock in every hole. Then, he'd drive himself insane. He'd battle himself and his new addictions and cravings. He'd destroy himself. He'd be his last and final victim.
Penny grabbed Joe's hand and led him out of the seat. "What?" he asked, pulling back to stay and watch the movie. Penny dug her nails into his wrist. "Ow!" squeaked the moron. At least he got the message. He followed Penny up the aisle to the top of the theater.
Penny surveyed her options. Most of the men here wouldn't be attractive. Anyone who fucks in the dark is ashamed of something, normally their body. But Penny wanted to find someone extraordinarily hideous. Joe's attraction to men was still weak, but his fascination with cock was strong. Penny wanted to push that. She wanted him to be so desperate to suck, that'd he'd beg the obese and sweating man to let him give him a sloppy blowjob.
"What are we doing?" hissed Joe. "I was watching the -"
"Shut the fuck up," snapped Penny, still looking over the room.
"Woah. You cannot tell me to shut the ... the ... up ..." A blank and dreamy expression washed over Joe. Penny smiled.
"Shut the what, Joe?" she asked.
"The ... what was the word you said?"
"Fuck, Joe. I said fuck." Joe blinked and stepped away from Penny, as though the word was a slap.
"What?" he asked.
"Say it, Joe. Say fuck."
"Say ... what?"
Penny laughed. "Don't worry about it. I just appreciate you cleaning up that filthy mouth for me."
"Uh, sure ..." said Joe. His brain was still panicking, trying to figure out where the word went. Penny would need to revisit that. Soon, he'll forget the word ever existed. Then, he won't even notice when other people use it. His brain will fill in logical replacements or block it out entirely.
Penny would have to thank Nadia for that someday.
"You want to suck cock?" asked Penny.
That woke Joe up. "Yes, please," he said.
"Follow me," said Penny. She walked down the aisle to a man a few rows away. He was sweating, watching the movie. He looked nervous. It didn't help when he looked up and saw Penny in her pencil skirt and sharp white blouse with Joe behind her. Panic flooded his eyes. Women shouldn't be here. What was happening?
"Relax," ordered Penny. "I want to introduce you to my friend."
Penny stepped aside and gestured to Joe, who suddenly became shy.
"This is Joe," said Penny. The man stared in confusion at Joe. Penny forgot how convincing Joe's makeup and outfit was. "Don't worry, love," said Penny. "He plays for your team." Penny lightly pat Joe's crotch. The slightest twitch of Joe's bulge shouldn't have been visible in the dark, but the gesture seemed to comfort the man. "What's your name?" asked Penny. "N-n-no names," said the stranger. "Fine," sighed Penny. "I'm Carol and this is Joe. What should we call you, Tall Dark and Handsome?"
Penny winked, but the man seemed to still be scared, pulling himself away from them in his seat. Penny huffed and collapsed in the seat next to the stranger. He smelled terrible. He was overweight, with long and thin hair spilling around his head. He needed a shower. And a haircut. And a makeover. And liposuction. And ... a lot. Too much for Penny to ever be interested unless she found out he was a p*******e or an abusive father.
She felt his eyes on her, but she didn't look at him. She patted the seat to her right, and Joe sat down. She took a deep breath. To create calm, exude calm. She took out her phone and started an audio file. It was an imitation of the one she used on stage or in her office, but Joe responded immediately. The bulge in his pants twitched again. He strained against his pants, wanting to free his erection. The stranger stared at Penny. What was she doing? "Relax," she whispered. Both men seemed to sag around her. "We all want the same thing here." Penny snapped her fingers. The
gong echoed throughout the theater. Some of the men in the theater turned around to look at her. But the stranger and Joe both closed their eyes.
"What's your name?" asked Penny. "Phil," said the stranger. "Joe," said Joe. "I want you to relax," said Penny. "I want you hard. You both came here to cum. You came here for pleasure. Not the movie. Something better. Something harder and wetter." Penny looked. Both of them became hard. Good. "I'm going to release you. Both of you will do what comes
naturally. You will be perfectly relaxed and horny. Understand?" They both nodded. Penny snapped her fingers again. Once more, someone from the other side of theater turned around to look at them. Penny waved at the stranger,
but he turned back to the film. It took a moment for Phil and Joe to collect themselves, so Penny took the opportunity to move out of their way. She moved to Joe's right and crossed her legs. She took out her phone. She had some work to do. Marcy, formerly Mark, had reached a new high in her performing career, an offer to do porn with a major studio. She wanted an agent. Penny wouldn't act as an agent, but she could find one. But it had to be from her. Anyone else would want to know why all earnings that ought to go to Marcy went to a Miss Penny Lane instead. Discretion and privacy ruled her network of former abusers, bullies, tormentors, tyrants, and villains. Joe did what came naturally to
him. Penny glanced over to see him on his knees. Phil's cock was out. It was tiny. Joe was inching towards it, his eyes transfixed with lust. Penny supposed she should have savored this. Maybe this should have turned her on. She was enacting justice. She was crushing an oppressor.
This was Joe first cock. He admitted frequently, and honestly, that he'd never sucked cock before. He'd never even thought about it. He was perfectly heterosexual before Penny got to him. But Penny felt nothing as Joe took the cock into his mouth. She turned her phone and took a picture. The first without the flash. Neither man seemed distracted by the click. Then another with the flash, neither moved. Phil gripped the arms of his chair, and Joe bobbed limply. His technique was terrible, but his heart was in it. Penny had placed the desire in him, but only practice could generate the skill. She'd need to make sure he got the practice. Penny took out Joe's phone and flipped through the contacts she'd been making on his behalf. Plenty of men from the show were joking when they asked Joe if he would suck their cock. Only three were serious so far. But surprisingly, two more, who were not at the show, had also found Joe's number and were asking for blowjobs. Penny sent them the picture of Joe on his knees. "I can do this for you, anytime," she typed. She would still supervise the conversations, but she'd have Maurice arrange a car to take Joe to and from appointments. Penny kept scrolling through Joe's phone. He had calls from all sorts of people. The police called when he went missing, but Joe answered and said he was in Hawaii. Penny took the GPS out of the phone and sent it to Hawaii just to be sure. Joe's parents knew where Joe was. He talked to them briefly. His alibi was fine. Penny had a former client create images of Joe in Hawaii and post them online in his name. Joe was gone, and the world had moved on. Except for Nadia. Penny scrolled to her name. For the first few days, Nadia would call three or five times a day. She would text twice as much. After a few days of that, Penny blocked the number. And now she was showing up at my penthouse. And she couldn't be tranced. Penny's grip tightened around the phone until she heard the plastic squeak with strain. She felt her jaw clench and her teeth grind. Next to her, was someone who deserved to be punished. Joe deserved to become what he tormented. He deserved to understand what he was doing to others. He should be mocked and used the way he mocked and used others.
Penny couldn't trance Nadia, but she could ruin Joe. She got up and walked away from the happy couple. There was satisfying slurping from behind her. She went to front of the theater and stood in front of the screen. Some of the men in the crowd stirred. They weren't there for the movie, but they weren't yet occupied like Phil and Joe. Penny could feel them tense at the sight of a woman, an intruder, in their private sanctum.
"Excuse me gentlemen," said Penny, raising her hands. "I would like to ask you all for a favor." Penny gestured to the back where Phil and Joe were. "My friend, Joe, who is dressed as a very sexy lady for today's movie, is trying something new. Today is his very first blowjob. Let's give him a round of applause." One or two men in the theater applauded. "He's enjoying himself greatly. And his new friend is also enjoying Joe's sexy and useful mouth. In fact, Joe is having so much fun, that he said he'd like to give another blowjob. He used the phrase, and I quote, `I could do
this all day.'" Penny paused and looked around the room. Behind her, some monster was peeling off a man's skin slowly. "I decided to take up that bet. I don't know if Joe can do this all day, but I bet him he couldn't suck off every man in this theater and swallow each of your loads." From the back of the room, Phil made a groaning sound as he came. Penny wondered if Joe took the load and swallowed. She hadn't written that into him yet, but sometimes these sluts could surprise her and take things further than she imagined. "So what do you say?" continued Penny. "Would you all like to feel what our kind stranger back there is feeling?" Again she gestured to Phil and Joe in the back of the theater. "He seemed to have enjoyed himself." No one moved. They were scared. This could be a trap. Their identities were on the line. They came here for anonymity, and she wanted to put on a show. She smiled. "I can promise you two things. One, no one will ever know who you are. Your privacy is paramount. In fact, Joe here will give you all of his information, including where he lives and his number. As a way to thank you for your participation, you will be able to contact him anytime. He will meet you wherever you want: here, your home, your office, some dark corner, a park bench. Anywhere and anytime you can use him again. Sound good?" There was a pause. Phil stood up in the back and shuffled out of the theater. Joe stood up after him. His hair was a mess, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked down the aisle and stood next to Penny. "What do you say?" asked Penny, gesturing to her slut. "Who wants to see how many loads this cocksucker can swallow?"
One shuffled in the back and came forward. He was a large man. He looked like a bodybuilder and dressed like a lumberjack. He unzipped his pants as he walked down the aisle. After him, more climbed out of their seats.
Penny pressed down on Joe's shoulders, lowering him to his knees. She leaned in, snapped her fingers, and whispered in his ear: "Each cock you suck will make you want cum more. Each drop of cum you drink will only make you thirstier for more cum. You will never be satisfied. You will never stop trying to fulfill your thirst." She was pushing it, she knew it. Joe wasn't ready for this yet. He wasn't ready to transfer actions into what brought him deeper into trance. He wasn't ready for cum addiction. He wasn't ready for desperation and no reward. He still needed satisfaction
and pleasure to encourage his behavior. But Penny wanted to lead him down. Further down. Faster. She could take him deeper. She could do more. She could bend a mind to her will. She doesn't need to be so careful. She doesn't need to care what happens to a human mind. She needs to test her power. That's the only way to get stronger. That's the only way to improve. She left her cell phone nearby, as it played the simplified version of her music. She kissed Joe on the forehead and walked away, to the back of the theater.
Behind her, four men surrounded Joe, each with their cocks out. Penny sat down and resumed making connections on Joe's phone. She could do this. She could speed up the transition. It normally took months or years to do it completely, but she could do it in a month with him. Full transition in a month. Yes. She had the power. She had the resources. There was no reason to stall. No reason to be cautious. She was too well protected, too entrenched.
Nothing could stop her. Penny felt a small thrill at her own daring. Something stirred in her that hadn't stirred in years. She watched Joe put one cock in his mouth while two others were placed in his hands. He pumped the cocks. Good boy. The fourth man got on his knees, helping Joe. Good. Kissing. Good. Good.
Penny texted the men who had reached out to Joe. She put desperation in his texts. He needed them. He needed their cum. When could they meet. He'd do anything.
Penny looked up to see one man, a little too eager, already cum on Joe's face. Joe cupped the cum and slid it into his mouth. Joe licked the cock clean and got every drop.
Yes. Soon, he'd do absolutely anything.
********
While Joe was busy, Penny left the theater to get some coffee. She stopped on her way out and spoke with the manager. She suggested, strongly, that he use an alternative soundtrack for the 1pm showing on Saturday mornings. She got his email and said she would send him the tracks he needed.
He agreed. The money helped. The rings helped more.
Today, she could have anything she wanted.
That included an iced triple grande caramel macchiato with two shots of vanilla and two shots of caramel.
The coffee shop was crowded, but Penny didn't mind the wait. Things were heating up in her exchanges with Joe's future clients. Her phone was a blur of typing and repeated desperate pleas for cock and cum.
Besides, if she was late, Joe would wait. Maybe he'd find something else to do with a room full of cocks. Penny wondered if he'd cum just from the pleasure of sucking off another man. Would the adrenaline and delight push him to try anal? Anything was possible. But it wasn't her problem. Anything bad that could happen would happen to Joe. And she wanted so many terrible things to happen to him.
"Miss Penny?"
Penny turned around to see Nadia in the back of the line.
Her body went rigid with white anger. She was feeling so good. She was feeling confident. She felt invincible. And now ... this. She slid Joe's phone into her purse.
She couldn't ignore her. Across the street her missing boyfriend was swallowing a cum cocktail from four different cocks. Besides, she gave the girl her card. She told her she would help her.
Study her is more like it.
"Nadia," said Penny and smiled. "Come here." She waved for Nadia to join her in line. Nadia looked around uncomfortably, but she stepped out of line and joined her. A few others glared at Nadia but nobody said anything.
"Getting your caffeine fix?" asked Nadia.
"More sugar than caffeine, I imagine."
"Ah, one of those."
"Not you?" asked Penny.
"I like my coffee like I like my men: strong and black."
Penny stared at Nadia. Nadia held her gaze, then giggled to herself.
"It's a joke," said Nadia.
"I noticed."
Silence descended on them. The coffee shop was filled with lyricless ambient music and the clatter of dozens of conversations. Penny tapped her foot while they waited. The line moved slowly. The barista at
the counter seemed perfectly incompetent. In the ten minutes Penny watched,
he messed up three drinks and gave two drinks to the wrong person. That
didn't speed things up.
Penny ran through a dozen possible conversations. Should she talk
to Nadia about their appointment and helping her fall under trance? Should
she avoid that topic entirely? There was no right answer.
"It's strange to me that powerful people like yourself come to
silly coffee shops like me," said Nadia.
"Explain."
"Well, I mean. You're you." Nadia gestured to the entirety of
Penny's being. "Miss Penny. Powerful hypnotist." She said that like an
announcer for a boxing match. Penny didn't flinch. "But I'm me. You know?
Just little old me. No fame or power. But we get coffee from the same
place. That's strange, right?"
"Apparently," said Penny.
"Not into small talk?" asked Nadia.
"It's what people do when they have nothing else to say." Penny
sighed and looked over the line again. She was close. She'd be out of this
hell soon. Penny wished she had her phone. She wished she could safely use
Joe's phone. She wished she had any acceptable excuse to look preoccupied.
"I think it's what people do when they want to be polite and
connect with someone, but they're too scared of the real topics."
Penny looked back at the girl and regarded her again. She was in a
white a-line dress. It had a cluster of butterflies on the skirt in
different colors. But the butterflies turned purple as they rose up the
skirt and formed the outline of bustier of butterflies. The dress was
sleeveless, with a small neckline that showed no cleavage. It was cute.
Penny had no attraction to cute.
But Nadia's face betrayed her words, her mannerisms, and her
dress. There was something that she could respect. Nadia was
insightful. She may not be professional, but she saw things and didn't
hesitate to share what she saw. Even if her manner of sharing was random or
inappropriate.
"Then what is the topic you'd rather discuss?" asked Penny.
"Hypnotism," said Nadia quickly.
"And you?" added Penny.
Nadia nodded. "I keep meaning to call you to reschedule, but I'm
afraid. What if it doesn't work again? What if you can't -"
"I can," said Penny. She clenched her fists. "It will work next
time."
"What was wrong last -"
Penny turned around to see the line had moved. The barista was
standing at the register, staring at her. Penny cleared her throat and
stepped forward. She ordered her drink. She had to say it three times, but
the idiot behind the counter got it eventually. She offered to pay for
Nadia, and Nadia graciously accepted. They both stepped to the side to wait
for their drinks.
"I don't know what went wrong," confessed Penny. Her honesty
surprised her. "Our session may be less trance, more troubleshooting. I
can't figure it out without you. You're a large variable of the trance."
"So, I could be the problem?" asked Nadia.
"Possibly."
"Oh."
They waited for their drinks. The barista handed Nadia her drink,
though she had ordered after Penny, and Penny tapped her foot,
waiting. More people came and got their drink before Penny. And Penny
waited.
She hated this about the world, about mankind, about people. They
were unbelievably flawed. She couldn't believe it. Nothing worked the way
it was supposed to. Not for long, at least. They break down. They're
unreliable. They forget. They disconnect. They disappear. And Penny had
power to fix them, like Joe, but she was too slow. Even now, she should be
able to snap her fingers and make this barista make her damn coffee. She
should be able to crush him with her mind, her words, and get what she
want. She should be able to fix him with a thought, to bend him under
her. Everyone was better once they met her, once they succumbed to
her. They were faster and trustworthy. They were true and reliable. They
stayed and learned and obeyed. But she can't hypnotize everyone. She
couldn't hypnotize those men, starved with lust, to treat Joe the way he
deserved to be treated. She couldn't hypnotize Joe to bend over and take
cock after cock into his pathetic ass. She couldn't get the manager of the
theater to bow to her and give her everything she needed. She could
suggest. She could prompt. She could lead.
But she still couldn't control.
Nadia stepped forward and whispered something to the barista. He
looked at Penny, looked embarrassed, and set to work immediately. Nadia
stepped back to Penny's side.
"He forgot," said Nadia.
"How does he forget to do his job?"
Nadia looked around the shop. "Well, they are pretty busy."
"That's an excuse. It's his job to make my order. It's his job to
notice his mistake. It's not your job or my job."
Nadia took a sip of her coffee. "Sure," she said and shrugged.
"It's not like it's a difficult job. It's practically mindless."
"He could be going through a lot," said Nadia. "You never
know. Maybe his mom is in the hospital. Or maybe his girlfriend broke up
with him. Maybe he's got an idea for a screenplay and he wants to memorize
it before it slips away."
"Or maybe he's a moron," snapped Penny.
"Maybe that too. Maybe all of the above." Nadia turned, looked at
Penny, and smiled. "You can never really know what it's like in another
person's head."
Penny said nothing. If only Nadia knew what Penny was doing across
the street. If only Penny knew how Nadia's mind work. She conceded the
point.
"That's fair," she said. "But it doesn't get me my coffee."
Nadia gave a simple laugh. It was trite and a little too loud. But
it was refreshing. It was, light. Some people looked around at the two,
standing by the counter, but Nadia didn't care. Penny could feel their
questions about what was so funny and don't they know how rude that is. But
Nadia didn't care. She was herself, simply and entirely.
The barista reached out with a cup of iced coffee, Penny's. Nadia
reached forward and took it, thanked the barista, and handed the coffee to
Penny. Penny nodded at the barista and turned to leave.
"Do you have anywhere you need to be?" asked Nadia. Penny stopped
and turned around. Nadia gestured to an open table. "Join me?" she asked.
Penny looked back across the street, to the crappy theater. "Sure,"
she shrugged and sat down. Nadia sat across from her. She held her hot
coffee in both hands, as if nervous to attempt to move it with one. Her
eyes looked down, staring into the swirling steam and black liquid.
"You want to talk about your mind?" asked Penny.
"That obvious?"
"You're not hard to read."
"Just hypnotize," mumbled Nadia. She took a sip.
Penny smiled. "Give it time. Not everyone is instant. Some minds
are more ... sophisticated." Penny took a sip of her coffee. It was more
sugar and caramel than coffee, but it she shivered with delight as it
cooled her.
"Sophisticated?"
"Yes," said Penny. "Minds are
complex. Trauma. Distraction. Medication. Injury. All these things can
interfere. I have to work with you to see what makes your mind complex and
sophisticated." Penny smiled. "Someone wise once told me that you can never
really know what it's like in another person's mind."
Nadia looked up and smiled.
"I endeavor to do just that: figure out what it is in your mind."
"Good luck," said Nadia. "Not sure how much is going on in there."
"You had a great point about our barista friend." Penny gestured to
the barista, still making mistakes while a heavyset woman in line was
glaring at him.
"That was an accident. I'm only ever profound on accident."
"Ah," said Penny. "That's a shame."
"And it's mostly because he cute." Nadia blushed. "I thought he
should get the benefit of the doubt."
"So the truth comes out," said Penny. She took another sip. The
barista was, most definitely, not cute. He hair was in disarray. He had
tattoos climbing up his neck and down his forearms. He had gauges in his
ears and a piercing through his lower lip.
"Is that what you like?" asked Penny.
"You don't think he's cute?!" squeaked Nadia. She looked around the
room in embarrassment. One man had turned to look, but the rest ignored
her. "Sorry," she muttered.
"I'm not attracted to men," said Penny. She took another sip.
"What?" said Nadia. "Oooooo," she whispered. Then, "ooooooooo!"
louder. More people turned to look at her. This time, Penny blushed.
"Let's not make a scene," suggested Penny.
"Oh, right," said Nadia. "Sure." She leaned in closer to Penny and
whispered, "so, you're a lesbian?"
"Yes, dear," said Penny. She grinned.
"I didn't know."
"I don't wear a sign or anything."
"Right, but, I should have known."
"Really? How so?" Penny took another sip. "Tell me exactly what
would give me away? What are the tell-tale signs of the lesbian?"
Nadia blushed. "Sorry," she said. "I don't know. I just figured I'd
know, you know?"
"No. I do not."
"I promise I'm not trying to offend you."
"You're not offending me." Penny took another sip. "Yet."
Nadia took a long drink of her coffee. Penny checked the time. She
needed to get back. Joe should be done. Unless he took things further than
Penny would have hoped for, he should be covered in cum inside and out and
waiting for her in the lobby.
"Can I tell you something embarrassing?" asked Nadia.
"I feel you're going to anyways."
"Right, well, when I saw Joe disappear behind stage, and then
disappear for a few months, I didn't think he'd gone off to be a ... uh
... someone who ... uh ..."
"Sucks cock?"
"Uh, right. That."
Penny smiled wide.
"It's just a word, Nadia."
"Right, well. I wasn't worried he'd gone off to do ... that." Nadia
took a quick sip. "I was worried that he'd gone off with you. That you'd
like, taken him from me. That you and he were -"
"Sleeping together?"
"Right." Nadia blushed. "But I guess that was stupid of me."
"Not a bad theory at the time."
"I feel like a moron."
Penny checked her watch. She didn't have time for this. She stood
up from the table. "The barista is a moron," she said. "You are not. I
don't know where Joe is. And mostly, I'm sorry he hurt you. You don't
deserve that. But I must be going."
"Uh, right." Nadia stood up. "I'll call your secretary and make an
appointment with you."
"Tomorrow afternoon. Four o'clock. I'll clear my schedule."
"Uh, four o'clock?" asked Nadia. "Can it be like, 3:30 or
something? Like last time."
"Four o'clock," repeated Penny. She turned to walk out of the
coffee shop. "I'll see you then."

Penny didn't wait or listen for Nadia. She had to find Joe. She couldn't let him wander around the city, or worse, go home with one of the men who deposited a kind donation into his cum dumpster of a mouth.
She crossed the street, but didn't enter the theater. She walked past it, turned down an alley, and went in through one of the side doors. In the lobby, Joe was sitting, casually waiting for her. He had an adorable smile on his face, like a c***d proud of their messy artwork. His makeup was running and ruined. Good. There was no sign of cum on his face
or clothes. Good. Some cum was in his hair. Good.
"You look beautiful, Joe."
He blushed.
"They called me Joanna," he said. His voice was softer and the pitch was higher.
"They don't know anything," said Penny. She grabbed Joe's wrist and pulled him to a stand. "You're not Joanna until I say you are. You're Joe. You like cock and dressing like a woman. You love cum more than breathing. You're Joe. Do you understand me?"
Joe looked at the floor. "Yes, Miss Penny."
"You're not Joanna."
Penny pulled him by the wrist out the side entrance. The car should be waiting behind the theater.
"Not yet."
*******************************************************************
The Rabbit Hole Chapter 4: by Trixie Ad
Penny
"Just try to relax," said Penny.
"That's pretty cliche," said Nadia. She opened her left eye and
stuck her tongue out at Penny. Penny rolled her eyes but couldn't resist a
smile.
"Do you want this to work or not?"
"I do," said Nadia, opening her eyes entirely. They were back in
Penny's office. The sound of rain and bells surrounded Nadia, along with a
gentle music she couldn't quite identify or name.
"Then, relax," commanded Penny. "I'd hate for this not to work
because you're so wound up from excitement or anxiety."
"I'll get right on that," muttered Nadia.
"Try," snapped Penny.
Nadia blushed and stared at her hands, each nervously twitching in
her lap. "Sorry," she muttered.
Penny sighed. "No, I'm sorry." Penny crossed in front of Nadia and
sat on her desk in front of the redhead. "I'm nervous too." Penny grabbed a
pencil and rolled it between her hands. "I guess I'm the one that should
relax."
Nadia reached forward and grabbed Penny's hand. "Hey," she
whispered. "If you fail, at least you'll join the legions of others that
have failed before you."
Nadia smiled, but Penny's eyes turned to ice and pulled her hand
away.
"I'm not like the others," said Penny.
Nadia smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but Penny
pushed on. "Most hypnotists are performers. They rely on peer pressure and
illusion to confuse the audience. I'm not a liar. I am powerful. I've
always been powerful. Ever since I was a little girl. They are
pretenders. I'm not."
Images flashed in the back of Penny's mind. A facility for youth. A
psychiatric ward. A nurse, crawling into her bed. A long needle. Her
mother. Her aunt. Straps on her arms. And all of them, all of them, going
limp under her scream, under her rage, under her power.
"Whatever happens," said Nadia, bringing Penny back to the present,
"I won't blame you if it doesn't work. You've tranced scores of people. If
it doesn't work, it'll prove that something is wrong with ... me." Nadia
whispered the last word.
"It won't matter. It won't happen."
"You're sure?" asked Nadia.
"I double checked the equipment. You followed my dietary
suggestions?"
"Yes."
"Well rested?"
"Yes."
"But not over-rested?" asked Penny.
"Yes."
"You watched the videos I sent you?"
"Yes," said Nadia.
"Those should have laid a foundation, made you more receptive."
"They didn't trance -" started Nadia.
"They weren't supposed to," interrupted Penny.
"Okay," muttered Nadia.
"That's about everything we can control."
Penny stepped behind Nadia. "You ready?" she asked.
"Yes," said Nadia.
"Good," said Penny. "Try to relax."
Penny went into performer mode. Her mother, who was a teacher,
often said that this is what it was like for teachers. Penny's mind was
trying to conduct an orchestra, trying to perfectly perform a synchronized
dance. She had to control the equipment and sound. She had to monitor it as
she went, making sure it wasn't too loud or distracting but loud enough to
flood Nadia's mind. She had to speak into Nadia's mind and control the
trance. But most importantly, she had to monitor Nadia. This wasn't like
reading off a script. Based on how Nadia reacted, Penny would have to
change her words or adjust her equipment. She had to read her audience, and
change her act with expertise based on Nadia's reaction.
"I want you to imagine the safest place in the world," said
Penny. "A place where you felt universally loved and appreciated. A place
of absolute security and acceptance. You don't perform there. You don't
worry there. You are taken care of. You are embraced. Imagine that place in
your mind. Let's start there. Imagine the scents of that place. What does
it smell like? Smell them again, here and now. What sights are in that
place? Colors. Objects. Lights. Shadows. What does that place look like?
What are the textures there? Surfaces? Run your fingers over the wood, over
the tabletops, over the walls, the floors, the ground. What does it feel
like on your skin there? Put yourself in that place. Any age. Any
time. Just go to that place. Go there now."
Penny circled around in front of Nadia. Nadia's eyes were closed,
and she was smiling. Good. She was in a safe and neutral position. Penny
didn't need to corrupt or destroy Nadia. She didn't want to harm the girl
at all. All she needed to do was trance her. Basic stuff.
"Are you there, Nadia?"
Nadia nodded.
"Speak out loud," commanded Penny.
"I'm there."
"Where are you?"
"My grandmother's house. She's baking cookies for me. A whole batch of cookies just for me."
"And you can smell the cookies?" asked Penny.
"Yes."
"You can hear your grandmother while she moves around in the kitchen?"
"Yes."
"You feel safe?" asked Penny.
"Yes."
"Good girl."
Penny proceeded to draw her in deeper. More guiding. More
repetition. Simple affirmations. Find anything to make Nadia agree with
her. That was step one. Once they agreed, their thoughts would start to
become one. Then Penny could lead Nadia wherever she wanted.
She wanted to ask Nadia if she was in the Rabbit Hole. She wanted
to make sure and check if Nadia was tranced and under her control versus
being compliant and agreeable. Subjects always start wanting to play along
in some degree. Nadia very much wanted to play along, but checking to make
sure Nadia was in a trance would be like pulling out a souffle before it
was done: checking could ruin everything. In the meantime, it was like
watching a pot boil. It felt like nothing was getting done.
Penny ran diagnostics on Nadia's mind, troubleshooting. She asked
if Nadia was distracted. She asked if Nadia was thinking about anything
else. Was Nadia's mind wandering? But Nadia denied all of that. Nadia said
she was focused, calm, and ready. She said she stayed in the safe place the
whole time. Everything was going as they normally go. Nadia was ready and
willing. Her mind was pliant and eager to obey.
Penny decided to push on Nadia's mind and see how flexible and soft
it was at this point:
"I've enjoyed our time together," said Penny. It wasn't the entire
truth, but it was a harmless enough lie. "I've loved getting to know you."
"Me too." Nadia smiled but kept her eyes closed. "I like you."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. You're sweet. You try not to act that way, but it slips in
sometimes."
Penny felt herself get uncomfortable. She steered the conversation
away. "Do you like my office?" asked Penny.
"Not really."
"Really?" she asked. "Why not?"
"It's too stuffy."
"The air, you mean?"
"No, the whole thing. It's too sterile and clean. It looks like a
catalogue, not a home."
Penny clenched and unclenched her fist. "Because it's clean?" she
clarified.
"Yes. It doesn't look lived in. It looks abandoned. That's not
welcoming."
Penny caught herself clenching her jaw. At least Nadia was feeling
honest. That meant she felt comfortable. That was a crucial step to feeling
pliable. Penny smiled to herself. Maybe she could have fun with the girl.
"Tell me, Nadia. Do you find me attractive?" asked Penny.
"Attractive?" asked Nadia.
Questions were dangerous. It meant part of the conscious mind was
awake. Penny tread lightly.
"Yes, attractive," said Penny.
"You're beautiful," muttered Nadia.
Penny smiled. It was an empty compliment. All her subjects were
brought to appreciate her beauty, even those she turned into drooling
cocksluts. She made some call her goddess. She heard it enough to feel
unflattered by it.
"But attractive?" asked Penny.
"Yes."
"Do you find women attractive?" pushed Penny. She was letting her
temper get the better of her.
"What do you mean?" asked Nadia.
Shit.
"Nevermind," said Penny. She was trying to backpedal, but she'd
done this enough to know she lost.
"Like, do you mean do I find them cute? Women are cute. And
beautiful. I see that all the time."
"You need to relax," said Penny. Her fists clenched. Dammit.
"But if you mean attractive, like do I want to date them or have
sex with them, then no," added Nadia without permission or request. Penny
lost her.
"Open your eyes," ordered Penny.
Nadia obeyed.
"Jesus," sighed Penny.
"What?"
"You're nowhere near a trance are you?" hissed Penny.
"What? No. I mean ..." Nadia lowered her eyes. "I guess not."
"Shit," spat Penny. "God dammit." Penny stomped away from
Nadia. She couldn't look at her.
"There's no reason to curse," muttered Nadia.
"Oh really?" snapped Penny. "You can't think of a single reason?"
Silence fell between them, but Penny wasn't worried about
Nadia. Her rage was thick and black around her. She was stupid. She pushed
too hard. And what was that question about women and finding Penny
attractive? What the hell was that?
Unprofessional. That's what that is. Selfish and greedy and
stupid. Stupid. She doesn't care if Nadia finds her attractive. She's not
trying to seduce Nadia. She doesn't care about Nadia. Nadia doesn't
matter. The only reason Nadia is here is because ...
What? Penny felt sorry for her? Penny felt guilty for taking Joe?
No. Joe was a terror. He told Penny all about his past
girlfriends. He told her every time he made a woman feel like shit, every
time he felt like a bully. Penny had to leave the room and let the
recording handle the rest. He's worse than even Nadia knew, and he deserved
everything he got or will get.
Nadia was here because she was a puzzle, a challenge. Trance was a
game to Penny, one she could easily beat. Controlling people, bending them
to her will and crushing them--it was a game at first. It was a fun
challenge. But it had become boring and easy. It was too simple, too
predictable. Nadia was something new. Nadia was exotic. Penny knew if she
worked at this, she could solve it. She'd conquer this and know she was
powerful. She really would be the best in the world. She'd trance the
un-tranceable.
But Nadia beat her.
"Was it the equipment?" asked Nadia.
Heat rippled over Penny's skin and through her blood. "No, Nadia."
The venom in her voice was thick and caustic. "It wasn't the equipment."
"Was it me? Did I do something wrong?"
"You must have." Penny opened the door to her office. "Harold?" she
shouted across the penthouse. She turned around and saw Nadia standing,
facing her, looking penitent.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I didn't mean to."
"You will find, Miss MacQuarrie, that in the course of science, we
look for simple and obvious explanations." Penny strode past the girl to
her desk and sat down. "In this case, there is one common factor. I have
tranced thousands of people. The other hypnotists you've seen have no doubt
tranced dozens or hundreds. That means the common factor must be ..." Penny
trailed off to let the girl find the conclusion.
"Me," whispered Nadia.
"Exactly." Penny stood up again. She couldn't sit. She wanted to
punch something. She wanted to scream. She wanted to pull her hair out and
flip her desk over.
She could hear the taunting voices of all her skeptics and
cynics. Joe telling the crowd she was a fraud. She was a fraud. All the
doubters filled her head, all the way back to her mother. Her mother who
couldn't believe her. Her aunt who took advantage of a mother's
skepticism. Penny doesn't know what she's talking about. She's making
things up. The voice of the nurse in the facility: Penny doesn't have any
abilities. She's fabricating things. It's part of her condition.
Fuck that. Penny wasn't going to lose. She didn't lose in the
facility. She didn't lose to her aunt. She didn't lose to the doctors and
specialists that tried to understand her. She never lost. That's how she
crushed Joe. That's why she crushed men like Joe. They thought they could
make a loser of her, to show her as a fraud to the world. And that's what
Nadia was doing now, in her simple and naive way, she was trying to expose
Penny as a fraud. But Penny would show them. She wouldn't be defeated so
easily. She would win.
"Thank you for trying," said Nadia, but Penny was in her own thick
storm.
"What?" snapped Penny. Nadia stepped back, startled.
"Thank you for trying," said Nadia with less conviction. "I really
appreciate it."
"Yes, I'm sure you do," said Penny. "Unfortunately, it was a
complete waste of time."
Nadia flinched from the comment. "I'm sorry," said Nadia.
Harold appeared at the doorway, looking frazzled. "Yes, madam?"
"It took you a whole minute to cross the penthouse? It's big, but
it's not that big. Are you feeling ill, Harold?" asked Penny.
"No, madam."
"Are you getting old?"
"No, madam."
"Then you must have been accosted by bandits between wherever the
hell you were and here?"
"No, madam. I was ... using the facilities."
"You'll find Harold that I have no respect for the call of nature."
Penny turned from Harold and glared at Nadia. "Mother Nature answers to
me."
"Yes, madam."
"See Miss MacQuarrie out," said Penny. "I'm done with her." Penny
broke eye contact with Nadia. Harold held the door of the office open for
Nadia, but Nadia didn't move.
"Thank you for your time," she said. Her voice had regained some
strength but not enough to command respect. "You did a great job. I'm sure
it wasn't your fault it didn't work."
"I don't want your pity," said Penny. She was already scrolling
through her phone. She was arranging plans for later this week. It was
going to be a big week for Joe--one of his last.
Harold cleared his throat, and Nadia moved towards the door. At the
door, she stopped and turned around. "For what it's worth," she said. Penny
didn't look up from her phone. "Even if I wasn't in trance, I liked talking
to you. I liked the safe space."

Penny looked up, but Nadia was already gone.
While she waited for Harold to return and tried to create an adequate punishment for his tardiness, Penny got in contact with Dr. Thurman and Clarice. They were her consults on these kind of transformations, and she had no time to waste. Eventually became immediately for her plans with Joe. She knew what she had to do. She'd be leaving tonight.
Harold appeared in the doorway. "I apologize, madam."
"Apologies mean nothing. Results are what I want."
"Yes, madam."
"But we both know I won't fire you," she looked up at Harold and gave him a wicked grin, "don't we?"
Harold shuddered. "Yes, madam."
"Call Camille Kontalban. I want to speak with her at her earliest convenience."
"Yes, Madam."
"Actually, damn her convenience. I want to talk to her tonight."
"Yes, Madam."

"I'll be preparing Joe in the Rabbit Hole. Once you're done, strip and come to me. You won't be tardy again, understood?"
"Yes, Madam."
Penny made a dismissive gesture to wave Harold away. She prepared
to visit Joe. She took off her earrings and rings as she walked. She
unbuttoned her blouse and loosened the sleeves. Sometimes, this work could
call for a hazmat suit, but Penny wanted expedience, not comfort.
Joe was no longer strapped to the chair. He sat there
willingly. The trance brought him pleasure. Non-erotic pleasure. Erotic
pleasure had a limit for men. Their bodies have preventative measures to
keep them from being turned on for too long. Women could edge for days or
weeks, but men were time bombs when it comes to erotic
pleasure. Eventually, the cock would erupt of its own accord after
prolonged stimulation. Instead of erotic pleasure, Penny preferred
euphoria. Joe was basically high right now. The feeling increased as he
went into trance, and the feeling was addictive like d**g use was. At this
point, Penny couldn't take away trancing from Joe if she wanted. He would
break down the doors of her penthouse and offer Penny anything, anything,
to be tranced again.
Joe's files had long moved away from simple love of cock or cum. He
was drowning in his new passion. The fine line, and the one Penny hoped to
jump entirely, was Joe's sexuality. Making him accept himself as gay was a
waste of time. Soon, he'd be in a woman's body. If she made Joe consider
himself gay in a male body, she'd then have to make him considered himself
straight in a female body. Of course, sexual preference is never so
binary. It's a spectrum of desires and attraction. But hypnotism prefers
binaries. You don't see hypnotists tell someone to act chicken-ish. You see
them tell someone to act like a chicken. The hypnotist is playing off of
the subject's mind and what they think a chicken should act like. This
meant that whatever Penny understood about sexuality was irrelevant. All
that mattered was what Joe thought about sexuality. His understanding of
homosexuality and heterosexuality were primary, and Penny's understandings
were secondary. A gay man who becomes a woman is not a straight woman in
Joe's mind. That was the obstacle. But this was not Penny's first time,
nor was it her first time doing this under a deadline. If Penny was going
to be gone for a few weeks, she needed someone to keep an eye on Nadia. And
that person could not look or act like anyone Nadia knew. "It's almost
your birthday," said Penny. Joe didn't look away from the screen. "What
are you learning today?" asked Penny as she crouched down next to Joe's
chair. "I'm a slut," intoned Joe. "I live to serve. Others are above
me. Everyone is above me. I live to serve them. I will serve anyone who
asks. Anyone can use me." "That's nice," said Penny in the same tone she'd
use with a small c***d. Free use training would take months to really
hold. Making the idea of free use hot to Joe was easy. She could make
anyone turned on at anything. But making Joe actually willing to go out
into the world and offer his body to any person took time. Joe would need
to build on experience. A few more weeks of visiting shady theaters or
glory holes or dark park benches would set him up to be actually turned on
by offering himself to a crowd of strangers. Penny went to the monitors
and turned them off. Joe let out a whine. She didn't have a pre-scripted
file for what she wanted to do today. She was going off the script for
time's sake. She needed him to go deep, deeper than she'd been with him
yet, in order to make permanent change while she was away. She needed a
spy and a friend and slut and a tease and an extrovert and a flirt and most
importantly ... a woman. Joanna was going to be born.
"I was watching that," he whimpered.
Penny slapped him, hard. He cried out in pain, but his face didn't
turn with the blow. She would never make him a masochist for fear of losing
this power. As soon as pain becomes pleasure, it is difficult to make it a
punishment. Pain becomes a reward, and controlling her subject becomes
difficult. The only punishment available to a masochist is deprivation, and
deprivation makes people wild. Pain makes people listen.
"Don't talk back," said Penny. She said it simply, like one would
tell another to not forget about an appointment. Joe knew the power behind
the words. Penny didn't need tone to control.
"How are you feeling today?" asked Penny.
"Horny."
"Besides horny." Penny rolled her eyes. He was always horny now. He
was more cock than mind.
"Hungry."
"Jesus," sighed Penny. She was wasting her time. She knew she
was. But she was still shaking from the blackness, from the thick rage
rolling through her like bubbling tar. She needed to calm down, but small
talk wasn't working.
"Can I go back to trance?" asked Joe. His mind was so simple
now. Penny needed to build a third personality into him. There was already
Bad Joe, the same man she met on stage the first night. She would never
destroy him. That personality was precious; it was the whole game. After
Slut Joe was addicted to cock and cum, after Slut Joe was Joanna, after
Joanna was a prostitute or porn star or stripper or all three, after Joe's
body and habits and addictions were completely rewritten by Penny, Penny
would wake Bad Joe back up. His personality would return, but he'd be a
stranger in his body. The same straight and condescending man that stood on
stage and mocked Penny, the same one that taunted and teased Nadia, the
same one that hit his ex-wife when she talked back to him, would be on her
knees, sucking a cock, and loving it. He'll find himself addicted to cum
and half a dozen boyfriends trying to reach him for a free ride. He'll wake
up one day to strangers grabbing him and fucking him like he's public use
because Joanna was free use. He'll navigate that, and if Penny was any good
at her job, and she was the best, he'd either submit to it or destroy
himself. Penny didn't care either way.
Pablo Neruda once said, "Someday, somewhere - anywhere,
unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the
happiest or bitterest hour of your life." Penny hoped it was the bitterest
hour of Bad Joe's existence.
In the meantime, she played with the second personality: Joe the
slut. This was the one that loved cock and cum. This was the one she spoke
with now, the one begging to be in a trance. This would eventually become
Joanna. Joanna will be a beautiful woman with absolutely no
inhibitions. She will be on display for the world, and the world will take
and ravage her. It was a transitional personality. Soon, Joe will
desperately want to be a woman. He'll realize that women get more cock than
men. There are more straight men than gay men. His love of cock will drive
him to womanhood, and once there, he will be in paradise. Unless, of
course, she meets more scumbags like her past life. Unless she meets
bullies and abusers. Unless she has a pimp that mistreats her or a boss
that harasses her. And she will. All of Penny's victims become victim to
their former abuse.
But today, Penny didn't want any of these. Slut Joe and Joanna the
cockslut were useless to her. Today, she needed Joanna the friendly
lesbian. She needed someone to get close to Nadia, to befriend Nadia. She
needed a spy, and women don't let men in like that. Women especially don't
let abusive ex-boyfriends in like that. No. Nadia will meet Joanna some
time next week. They're going to hit it off. Joanna will be forward and
direct. She'll be needy and flirty. She'll be accomodating. Whenever Nadia
is available, Joanna will be available. Whatever Nadia wants to do, Joanna
will want to do. She'll report everything to Harold and Penny. She'll help
Penny understand the puzzle. And Penny will solve the puzzle. And Penny
will win.
She always wins.
Penny snapped her rings together, sending the soundwaves rippling
over Joe's body. "Go deep," she commanded, and Joe's eyes closed. She
turned on sounds of rain, bells, and chimes, the same sound she played for
Nadia.
"Are you in the Rabbit Hole?" asked Penny.
"Yes," intoned Joe.
"What is your name?"
"Joe."
"Spell it."
"J-O-E."
"Is it short for anything?" asked Penny.
"Joseph."
"Do you like your name?"
"It's fine."
"Good," said Penny. She looked up as the door to her chamber
opened. Harold was there, naked for her. He was an unattractive man. He was
balding and wrinkled, but he stayed in good shape. He was strong. Penny was
sure some women would find him attractive but to Penny, he might as well be
a dog. All men were dogs.
She waved him in, and he obeyed silently. He had seen her work
before. He understood the basics of hypnosis. Sometimes a victim would show
up at the penthouse raving mad, desperate for revenge or cock or therapy,
and Harold would trance them, calm them, and send them away. He himself had
a powerful trance locked deep in his brain: he would rather kill himself
than betray Penny. In fact, he would kill himself if he ever tried. But he
didn't know about, nor did he need to know, about it. Penny kept him happy,
and he liked his work. She didn't need to hold a gun to the head of every
person in her life, but it was safer to do so just in case.
"Do you remember your birth?" asked Penny.
"No."
"What did your mother call you when you were born?"
"Joe."
"Did you know how to spell then?"
"No."
"How did she spell it?"
"I don't know," admitted Joe. His face was relaxed. Penny could
romp through his mind with a hammer, and he wouldn't care. But Penny wasn't
about to go through with a hammer. She was about to be a wrecking ball.
"She spelled it J-O," said Penny.
"She did?" asked Joe. Harold looked up at Penny, nervous. He knew
questions were dangerous.
"Are you in the Rabbit Hole?" asked Penny.
"Yes."
Penny gestured for Harold to stroke Joe's cock. He obeyed without question. Joe's cock was quick to stiffen, and a smile spread across his face.
"I want you to imagine your mind like a house, can you do that for me, Joe?"
"Yes."
"In that house, different rooms hold different things. One room holds your memories. One room holds your habits. One room holds your knowledge and so on. Do you see that?"
"Yes."
"One room looks like a prison cell. What is in that room?"
"Bad Joe," said Joe with a pout.
"That's right," said Penny. They had walked through the house of
Joe's mind before. Slut Joe helped her lock up Bad Joe. It reinforced his
isolation if Slut Joe saw him as a threat and helped Penny keep him away.
"There is another room next to it. What room is that?" asked Penny.
"Slut Joe!" he squealed. His words turned to a more effeminate
lisp. He was learning to give subtle public displays of his inner
desires. He was starting to identify more and more as a homosexual
man. Nowhere was this more powerful for Slut Joe than in his private room
of Joe's mind.
"And do you see another room?"
"No." Harold shot a look up at Penny, but kept stroking Joe's cock. Penny was being indelicate, but if she ruined Joe's mind, the world wouldn't mourn it.
"Think. You may have to go through the closet of Slut Joe's
room. It's deep in there. A third room. It's tiny."
"I'm looking," said Joe.
Harold sighed with relief. Joe was playing along. He wasn't asking
questions. He wasn't refusing. He believed Penny that there was a room,
even if he didn't see it. He was accepting it. Good.
The trance went on for another hour. Penny had to describe the
closet. It opened into a tiny room. Penny described it like a woman's
room. She tried to avoid any girlish terms. She didn't want to make Joanna
a c***d or a bimbo. She had Joe get comfortable there. She said this is
Joanna's room and whenever Joe is in this room, he is Joanna. Joanna is a
part of him. It's the part that is thin and pretty. It's the part with long
hair that likes to look good, likes to be admired. She took as many of
Joe's personality traits as she could and made them sound feminine. In the
beginning it was about assimilation.
Normally, this would take weeks. Creating a new fascination or
addiction is easy. Making a new mind is reserved for divinity. It took God
seven days to create the universe. Penny was trying to do it in an
afternoon. Joe's universe couldn't be destroyed. She had plans for him. But
he did need a new universe to dwell in for a few months. He needed to be
put to use immediately.
Penny smiled. Worst case scenario she crushed his mind into a
puddle of goo. She could call that bimboism and ship him off to a brothel
in Nevada. Some men go for that sort of thing.
The inability to lose spurred Penny forward. She got clumsy a few
times and earned harsh looks from Harold. She accidentally let her opinion
slip into the trance, calling Joanna a bitch instead of a woman or a slut
instead of a flirt. But it didn't matter. Joe didn't matter in the long
run.
Nadia mattered. What could make a girl resist her? What could make
a girl refuse to go into trance and keep a bubbly smile on her face the
whole time? Nadia said she wanted to go under, well then why wouldn't she
cooperate? If Nadia was willing, was there something wrong with Penny?
`There's something wrong with Penny,' her mother said at the front
desk of the hospital.
`What's wrong with Penny?' Asked the stupid, fat nurse.
What's wrong with Penny?
Penny clenched and unclenched her fist. Harold reached out a hand
to her, but she shook it off. Nadia didn't matter either. Penny
mattered. There was something wrong with Penny. Something she couldn't
touch. Something no one could touch.
At the hospital, no one was able to put her under trance. They
tried different inductions. They tried d**gs. They tried erotic
inductions. They tried everything. But nothing worked on Penny. There was
something wrong with Penny and no one could fix her. No one could trance
Penny. No one could trance Nadia. No one could trance Penny. No one could
trance Nadia.
Penny would. She would do it. She would figure out Nadia's little
mind. She would understand. She would overcome. She had to.
She had to.
"Joanna doesn't like cock," said Penny through gritted teeth.
"No cock?" asked Joe.
"Joe likes cock," said Penny. "Slut Joe."
"Slut Joe likes cock."
"But not Joanna. Joanna is a lesbian. Joanna likes pussy."
"Joanna likes pussy."
Penny looked down at Harold. He had dutifully stroked Joe's cock
for almost two hours. She nodded, and Harold took Joe's cock into his
mouth. Joe moaned.
"Whenever Joanna thinks about pussy, this is how she'll feel."
"Feels good."
"Good girl."
Joe's cock twitched inside Harold's mouth. Penny pulled Harold's
mouth away.
"But Joanna can only have that when she thinks about pussy. She's a
lesbian."
"Joanna's a lesbian."
"Joe is Joanna."
"Joe is Joanna," repeated Joe.
"Joanna is a lesbian."
"Joanna is a lesbian."
"Joe is Joanna."
"Joe is Joanna."
"Joe is a lesbian."
"Joe is a lesbian," he repeated.
Penny sighed. This was the part she wasn't looking forward to. She
pushed down on Joe's shoulders, helping him sink into the chair. Harold
stayed in position, his mouth close to Joe's cock. Penny smiled thinking
about the limited amount of time that cock had on this earth. Bad Joe had a
big surprise coming for him when he looked between his legs in a few
months.
Penny pushed down on the sides of her pencil skirt and slid out of
it. She pushed down her panties and stepped out of them as well. Joanna was
a lesbian, after all. The inductions needed to be tied to actual stimuli,
and Penny was the only one with a pussy in this penthouse. Penny straddled
the chair and brought her pussy right in front of Joe's mouth.
"What room are you in?" asked Penny.
"Joanna's room."
"Are boys allowed in Joanna's room?"
"No."
"Who is allowed in Joanna's room?"
"Joanna."
"Who does that make you?"
"Joanna," said Joe.
"Say it."
"I'm Joanna."
"No boys allowed in Joanna's room, right?"
"Right."
"Who does Joanna invite into her room?"
"Girls."
"What does that make Joanna?"
"A lesbian."
"What does that make you?"
"A lesbian."
"Say it."
"I'm a lesbian."
"All together," ordered Penny.
"I'm Joanna, and I'm a lesbian."
"Good girl."
Joe's cock twitched. Soon his clit would replicate the response.
"What do they like?" asked Penny.
"They like pussy."
"What do lesbians do?" asked Penny.
"Lick pussy," said Joe.
"What does that mean you like to do?"
"Lick pussy."
"Put it all together now."
"I'm Joanna, and I'm a lesbian. I like to lick pussy."
"Good girl."
Another twitch.
Penny brought her pussy closer to Joe, so they hovered over his
lips. Any other time, without the rush, she would have called in another
woman to help condition Joe. But she didn't have time. The hardest part of
the conversion had to happen tonight. Harold would reinforce and clean
things up for her.
"What do you see?" asked Penny.
"Pussy."
"What do you like?"
"Pussy."
"What do you want to do?"
"Lick pussy," said Joe.
"Beg, Joanna."
"Please, can I lick your pussy?"
"No." Penny signaled Harold to get ready. "More," commanded Penny.
"Can I please lick your pussy?"
"More."
"Please, Miss Penny, may I please lick your pussy?"
"How bad do you want it?"
"So bad."
"How bad?" asked Penny.
"I'll do anything. Whatever you want."
"I want you to be yourself Joanna. I want you to be a slutty
fucking lesbian." She could feel Harold's eyes dart up at her, but she
didn't stop. "I want you to use your tongue every night to make women
happy. I want you to be the best cunt licker you can be. I want a total,
slutty, pornographic dyke. That's what I want you to do. Do you
understand?"
Joe nodded.
"Say it."
"I understand Miss Penny."
"All together now."
"I am Joanna. I am a lesbian. I like to lick pussy. I am a slutty
fucking lesbian. I will use my tongue every night to make women happy. I
will be the best cunt licker I can be. I will be a total, slutty,
pornographic dyke."
"When you lick my pussy, you will feel intense pleasure. As the
pleasure builds, you will sink deeper and deeper into trance. Joe will be
locked away. There will only be Joanna. The whole house of your mind will
be Joanna's room until I lock her away and bring back Joe."
"Yes, Miss Penny."
"The more pleasure you feel, the more you will sink into
trance. You will pinch your breasts, your tiny breasts, and sink into
trance. Your clitty will throb with pleasure, and you will sink into
trance. You will cum, and you will be entirely Joanna."
"Yes, Miss Penny."
"You may lick, Joanna."
Joanna began. She started with slow and shallow licks over the lips
of Penny's pussy. As she performed, so did Harold. Slow and shallow licks
over Penny's pussy earned Joanna slow and shallow licks over the tip of
Joe's cock. Joanna moaned. Lust drove her to boldness, and her tongue
lingered on Penny's lips in long strokes. Harold mirrored.
Joanna gave out a moan. This one was softer, more
effeminate. Joanna was sinking into herself. Taking on new mannerisms to
make sense of the world around her. Joanna didn't have a deep voice like
Joe, so she changed it. Joanna took a hair tie from her wrist and put her
short hair up into a ponytail.
"Good girl," cooed Penny.
Joanna let out another, softer and higher moan. Joe's cock
twitched. Joanna let her tongue go deeper, breaking the surface of Penny's
lips. Harold mirrored this by putting the very tip of Joe's mouth into his
cock. Joanna was driven by lust and pushed her tongue deeper into Penny's
pussy. Ultimately, Joanna's face was pressed up against Penny's mound while
her tongue was desperately licking and searching for Penny's clit. Harold
mirrored appropriately.
Unfortunately for Joanna, this wouldn't be perfect practice. Penny
was not wet. She hadn't been wet in years. All the trances, all the
seductions and destructions, did not arouse her. Sex was a powerful tool
for degradation and cruelty, as well as a powerful aid in trancing and
addiction. But Penny did not transform Joe for her sexual pleasue. She did
it for justice. She did it to make the world better and safer.
Joanna licked the dry pussy, and probably never thought better of
it. Her next pussy would be soaked from such administrations, but Penny's
near asexuality was useful for remaining in control. She didn't succumb
like Joanna did to pleasure. Pleasure made Joanna stupid. It clouded her
judgement. It made her easy to control. In fact, right now, it was helping
Penny eradicate Joe temporarily and instate the reign of Joanna.
Harold was not strong like Penny. He moaned as he sucked Joe's
cock. He could pretend to be bored, but Penny had played in his mind. She
knew how badly he loved to suck cock. How he could orgasm just from the
sensation of a cock tickling the back of his throat. It was good he was so
addicted to cock. It kept things professional between Penny and him. It
also made him useful for reinforcement and practice.
Joanna's nose was pressed up against Penny's clit as her tongue
tried to slide as deep as it could into Penny's pussy. Harold mirrored,
deep throating Joe's cock. They were both close. Joanna's moans were
getting higher and higher in pitch.
"Finish her," ordered Penny to Harold. The only satisfaction she
got from the whole ordeal was the morbid thought that this would be the
last orgasm of Joe's cock. She hoped it was terrible.
Both of them came together. Joanna pulled her face away from
Penny's pussy. Penny stepped away and put on her panties and skirt while
the two moaned and twitched. Joanna's moans were almost squeals now.
"Yes," she panted. "Oh god, yes." Her voice was softer, only
slightly higher. She wasn't trying to be obnoxiously effeminate or imitate
a stereotypical lisp. Instead, she tried to make her voice husky. It worked
for her.
Of course, if it didn't, Penny could have the vocal cords
surgically altered.
Penny stepped away, grabbed the towels they kept in the Rabbit Hole
for these moments, and threw them to Harold. His face was sticky and
covered in cum.
"Sleep," ordered Penny as she snapped her rings together. Joanna's
head dropped as her mind went dark. "Clean up," she said to Harold. "My
appointment with Camille is when?"
"Five," said Harold, out of breath. A small puddle of semen pooled
around his knees.
"You can reinforce later. Call Reyna and see if she can recommend a
girl for practice."
"Camille and Reyna in the same day?" asked Harold. He looked
uncomfortable to follow the order, but more uncomfortable to challenge
Penny.
"I'm glad you see the severity of the situation."
"But why rush? And why call in favors with them over ... this?"
said Harold, gesturing to Joanna.
"It isn't about Joanna," said Penny. "Do as I ask."
Penny stormed out of the Rabbit Hole. She had to go get a gift. It
was unwise to pay a visit to Camille Kontalban with anything less.
*******************************************************************
The Rabbit Hole Chapter 5: Joanna by Trixie Adore
Nadia
The phone rang on the other end and went to voicemail. Nadia knew
it would before she heard it. It had the last s*******n thousand times, it
would when she checked again tonight, and again tomorrow morning.
Penny was gone.
Luckily, the confusion and sting was wearing off. Now, Nadia felt a
blooming concern. Unlike Joe, Penny didn't have some magical status appear
that explained where she was. Bucky the Butler told Nadia that Miss Penny
was in Europe. That's all she got. Penny cancelled all her foreseeable
shows and appointments.
Nadia made a ritual of calling Penny's personal number twice a day:
once in the morning and once at night. She stopped bothering to call the
penthouse. She had learned to loathe Bucky the Butler's voice. Two months
of his nasally requests for her to stop calling were too much. Penny would
return. She couldn't be gone forever. She would come back, and Nadia could
tell her the good news.
Nadia sighed and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She opened the
door of her yoga studio and stepped in. The room was almost filled with
girls and a few guys, and Nadia went immediately to the back room to get
her mat and block. She preferred two mats - extra cushion for the pushin' -
and liked to grab them in fun color pairs. Pink and teal would do for
today.
She found space for her at the front - girls in class never felt
comfortable at the front of the room - and kicked off her flip flops. She
started to stretch - mostly because everyone else was doing it, and it
seemed like the thing to do.
Yoga and meditation were the closest she could ever come to some
form of trance. Extreme relaxation was her d**g. She couldn't become
entirely mindless, but she could enter a calm that surpassed
understanding. It was like she was asleep and about to wake up or
struggling to fall asleep and just on the verge. She was awake, she had a
mind, but it was very tired and didn't want to try at all.
Nadia's instructor, the gorgeous Stefano, entered the room. Nadia
imagined the collective sigh in the room more than heard it. He was
gorgeous. He had long and curly black hair, a short beard, and the softest
green eyes ever. He never wore a shirt when he came in, which showed off
his tight tummy and delicious arms. Spiraling over his shoulders was a
black dragon tattoo. He had olive skin and an Italian accent. Watching his
body bend while Nadia's mind sunk deeper and deeper was Nadia's heaven and
her porn. It was spiritual and lustful all at once. He was polite, funny,
and detailed. He was encouraging and respectful. He was wonderful.
"And almost certainly gay," muttered Nadia to herself.
Someone behind her giggled.
She turned around to see a woman in a bright red sports bra, purple
yoga pants, and a belly button ring. She had a piercing in her nose and
several along her ear and some type of tribal tattoo on her wrist and outer
hand. Her hair was dirty blonde and wavy, flirting with curly. She was
cute, but mostly, everything about her was loud and awkward. Her chest was
huge, porn star huge, and her shoulders were slumped forward from the
weight of them. They were almost certainly implants, but Nadia didn't look
at them too long. She didn't want to stare.
"I agree," said the girl through more titters. Honest-to-god
titters.
"I mean, I don't know," muttered Nadia. "I could be projecting."
"Don't think he'd pay attention to you?" asked the girl. She
pointed behind Nadia. Nadia turned around and saw Stefano looking at what
must have been her ass only moments ago. Nadia caught Stefano's eye. They
both blushed and turned away.
"Maybe we're both wrong," said the girl. She winked, and it pained
Nadia. She stepped forward and offered her hand, "I'm Joanna."
"Nadia."
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," said Nadia. "First time here?"
"Nope. But I guess it's your first time noticing me."
"Really?" asked Nadia.
"Yup, I've been behind you for almost three weeks now."
"Oh jeeze, I'm sorry."
"It's fine. You always seem distracted."
"Yeah, you could say that," admitted Nadia.
"I'll talk to you later, Fabio's about to start."
Nadia turned around. Stefano was already in his stretches and warm
up. Nadia assumed her position and mimicked him. She wanted to get lost
into his commands, his poses, his body, and her body. She wanted to fall
into her semi-meditative trance, but behind her, she could hear Joanna.
Apparently, Joanna was incredibly clumsy. Any pose involving
balance also involved Joanna falling down or catching herself three times,
and every time she caught herself, she muttered "dangit" under her breath
so everyone around her could hear. If she didn't catch herself, she said
"sorry," so the whole room could hear. How had Nadia not noticed her
before? Halfway through the session, Nadia could hear Joanna breathing. She
almost wheezed. She kept sniffing and clearing her throat. Did she come
here with a cold?
But everytime Nadia wanted to reprimand Joanna or move her mat to
another side of the room, she turned around and felt bad. The girl was
awkward. She was top heavy, by virtue of her breasts, and struggled to hold
any pose that wasn't on her back. Plus, she looked so out of place. Most of
the people in the room were in touch with their body and spirit. Joanna
seemed to be in touch with neither.
On top of all that was the guilt. Nadia hadn't seen her or said
`hi' in three weeks? Dang. Penny was a sole obsession of hers lately. She
was either trying to find Penny, trying to tell Penny what happened, or
trying to forget about Penny.
When the session was over, Stefano went around to talk to
individual women who had questions. Normally, Nadia would invent some
question just to talk to him, but today she turned to give Joanna her full
attention.
"You've been coming here for three weeks?" she asked.
"Yup," said Joanna, rolling up her mat.
"Then let me apologize for being too distracted to say `hi.' Let's
do this proper." Nadia stuck out her hand. "I'm Nadia MacQuarrie."
"I'm Joanna Lane."
"What brought you to yoga class? You're already in great shape."
"Thanks," blushed Joanna. "It's a little embarrassing to say."
"Oh, well that's -"
Joanna stepped forward and cupped her mouth to lower the volume and
whispered, "I just moved here from Nashville. I recently got these implants
and my doctor told me yoga was the best way to learn posture and balance."
"Oh," said Nadia, blushing from her transparency.
"See?" added Joanna. "Embarrassing."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm impressed with your
candor." "My what?" said Joanna. She giggled. She had an obnoxious giggle,
like a horse's whinny. "Your candor. It means your transparency or
vulnerability." "Oh, well why not just say that?" asked Joanna. "I don't
know," admitted Nadia. "Because the word that came to mind was candor."
"It's a silly word." "I guess it is." Nadia looked around the room. Women
were either clinging to Stefano or already gone. She didn't want to be left
alone with Joanna. "Well hey," she said. "I better get going. I think they
have another class in here after this." Nadia moved to leave, but Joanna
reached out a hand almost to grab her. She didn't, but Nadia stopped
anyway. "Wait," said the girl. "Listen, I know I'm weird, but I've lived in
this city for almost a month and you're the first person I've met who will
really talk to me besides people at work. I don't know anyone here, and I
was um ... wandering ... if you wanted to get coffee or a smoothie or tea
or food or a drink or d**gs or whatever you're into." "Right now?" asked
Nadia. "If you're not too busy," said Joanna. She raised her shoulders up
in a shrug, looking sheepish and awkwardly adorable. The truth was, Nadia
did have time. She had nowhere else to be, and if she went home, she'd try
more hypnofiles that wouldn't work and then edge thinking about how close
she was to everything she wanted. That did sound better than coffee or
d**gs with Joanna, but she'd been doing a lot of edging lately. She could
use a change. "Sure," said Nadia with a shrug. "Why not?"


***********


"You're probably thinking about my tits," said Joanna in the coffee shop.
In fact, Nadia was not thinking about Joanna's tits. She was thinking about
the coffee shop, the same one where she met Penny that day. She came here
often, hoping Penny would magically walk through the door and no longer be
in Europe. "What?" said Nadia reflexively. "My tits," said Joanna. "You
got quiet and kind of stared off into space. When people do that, they're
normally thinking about my tits or trying not to think of my tits." "I'm
not interested in your tits," said Nadia. "Oh really?" said Joanna with an
arched eyebrow. She shoved her arms together on either side of her breasts
and raised them up, but her sports bra confined them and kept her from
showing off. "Well, now I am," said Nadia. Both women laughed. "I'm not
accusing you of leering, honey," said Joanna with a wave of her hand.
Leering? She knew leering but didn't know candor? Odd girl. "Most women
just judge me for having them, like I want to grow up to be some big bimbo
slut." Nadie blushed and looked away. "Well, I don't think that. I assure
you." "It's okay if you do. People can't help it. They judge. It happens."
Nadia smiled. She couldn't believe she was having such an involved
conversation about a woman's tits. "They are quite impressive," she
admitted. "You should see them outside the sports bra," said Joanna with a
laugh. Nadia blushed again, and Joanna's eyes widened with shock. "Oh,
goddess, that wasn't a come-on. Promise." Both girls laughed. Nadia felt
something in her loosen. She hadn't laughed like this in a while. It felt
good to let go and be silly. Not that she was morose or anything, but Joe
didn't like silliness. Penny didn't put up with Nadia's antics. And after
both of them left, there wasn't anyone left to goof off for. She
worked. She came home. She avoided her parents. She edged. She wrote in her
journal. She read stories online and listened to files. She edged. Often,
she never came. She just edged until she could reach something close to
oblivion and fall asleep. It was no way to live. "If you weren't thinking
about my tits," said Joanna as she finished her smoothie, "then what were
you thinking about?" "Honestly?" asked Nadia. "Honestly." "I was
thinking about a friend of mine that I met here." "A romantic friend?"
asked Joanna as she raised eyebrows suggestively. "No," sighed Nadia with
a smile. "Did you ever hear of Miss Penny, the famous hypnotist?" "I
didn't realize any hypnotists were famous." Nadia laughed. "I guess they
aren't. But if you're into hypnotism, she's famous. She's like the
... shoot, I don't know sports metaphors. She's like the Babe Ruth of
hypnotists." "Got it. Big deal," said Joanna with a nod. The rest spilled
out of Nadia. Going to the show with Joe. Joe's appearance on stage and
disappearance to Hawaii. Nadia going to Penny to talk about Joe and find
him. Trying to be tranced by Penny. All of it. She was a little embarrassed
by the end that it was so short. To her, it felt like this huge and secret
thing looming over her, but once she finished, she realized that she barely
met Penny. She barely knew Penny. It was foolish once you said it out loud,
and Nadia was just a silly girl with nothing but fantasies in her head.
"You got to meet your Babe Ruth," said Joanna when Nadia finished. "I
guess I did," admitted Nadia. "But it didn't feel like us meeting was the
first time. I've followed her career. I've seen some tutorials she's
done. I've watched dozens of videos online of her trancing people. I've
followed her for as long as I've been into hypnosis." "And how long is
that?" asked Joanna. "Over a decade, I guess. Since puberty?" "Did you
ever find your boyfriend?" "Like, did I go to Hawaii?" Joanna nodded.
"No. And he hasn't come home. He found a job out there. I think he's got a
girlfriend. He's very happy. Everyone's very happy." Nadia sipped her
coffee. It was cold. "Except Nadia," said Joanna. "What? I'm happy."
"No, you're not." "Yes, I am. I'm perfectly happy." Nadia finished her
coffee. "What makes you say I'm not happy?" "I can just tell with these
things. You're pining. I can tell. Every time someone comes through that
door, you turn around to see who it is. That's pining. It's not a sign of a
happy girl." "It's a nervous habit. The bell on the door distracts me."
"You can keep lying to yourself, but you're not fooling me. You're like a
zombie going in and out of yoga. You don't notice the hottest man on earth
staring at you openly or the woman with the unnaturally large breasts
behind you. You're not here. Your mind is eternally elsewhere." Nadia
didn't say anything. She wished she had more coffee.
"And that elsewhere," added Joanna, "is called Penny."
"What? No it isn't."
"It isn't?" asked Joanna incredulously.
"I mean, I'm thinking about her, but I'm not thinking about her."
"And which part of her are you thinking about? Any particular
feature of her anatomy?" teased Joanna.
"Stop," whined Nadia. "I'm being serious."
"Me too. What about her?"
"Her disappearance," sighed Nadia. She had thought this through a
hundred times, but never said it out loud. Saying it out loud made it
real. "It just feels like Joe all over again. Like, I find someone I like,
and they disappear forever. Not just like ghosting me. They don't fade to
the background. They literally leave across the planet to get away from me
without warning or explanation."
"I don't think it's to get away from you."
"Well it sure feels like it."
"Sometimes people need space," said Joanna.
"Sometimes seems to only happen when I'm around."
"Try to see it from Penny's point of view."
"How so?" asked Nadia.
"Well, she's the Babe Ruth of hypnotists, right? The best in the
world."
"Right."
"And she can trance anyone. That's why you want to see her. You
want to finally fall into trance. You tell her you can't be tranced, and
she sees it as a challenge. She accepts. She's confident she's going to do
it. She's the best in the world. She'll trance you, no problem. So she
tries, but it doesn't work. She gets upset. She's embarrassed, but she'll
try again, no problem. She'll make sure it works. She'll clear her schedule
and set aside as much time as possible for you. Then she fails again. This
is her thing. It may be the one thing she's good at. She's risen to the top
of her game, and little old Nadia brings that all crumbling down. That has
to rattle her. That has to shake her to her very core."
"Well, yeah, but she doesn't have to disappear," countered Nadia.
"Maybe she does. Maybe the simple sight of you is enough to remind
her of her failure, to remind her that she's not as good as she
thought. She's not strong enough."
"Maybe," said Nadia, her confidence wavering.
"What if seeing you makes her feel powerless?" asked Joanna.
"I hope not," said Nadia. "She's plenty powerful." Nadia
smiled. "You should have seen what she did to Joe."
"Bragging about being a cocksucker?"
"Yeah," laughed Nadia. "That's power. She may be many things, but
she's certainly not powerless. She's the most powerful person I've ever
met."
"But you made her feel powerless."
"That's just silly," said Nadia.
"Why?"
"Because she's beautiful. God, you should see her Joanna. She's
perfect. She's like a 1940s movie star. Like Audrey Hepburn. She's got
poise. She's got gravitas. She's in complete control of herself and her
surroundings. Watching her move, listening to her talk, it's like a
ballet. It's all straight lines and intentionality. I bet you she never
doubts herself. Nothing phases her."
"Except you, right?" asked Joanna. "You said she got pretty angry."
"Well, yeah, I guess," conceded Nadia. "But you're not
listening. You have to meet her. Her control is effortless. Her power is
incredible. She could crush me and think nothing about it. It's
incredible. Like royalty. That's it." Nadia brightened and smiled wistfully
to herself. "I think meeting Penny is the closest I'll ever come to meeting
royalty."
"And imagine she felt that way about herself. Imagine she agreed
with everything you just said, but when she's around Nadia, when she tries
to trance you and fails, all of that falls apart."
"So she disappears on me?"
"Maybe," said Joanna with a shrug. "Only one way to find out. We'd
have to ask her."
"She'd have to answer her phone."
"What would you tell her if you could?" asked Joanna.
"If I got her on the phone?"
"Yeah."
"I dunno," admitted Nadia. "I've obsessed over getting her to
answer. I guess I've forgotten about what I'll say when she answers." Nadia
chewed on her lip. "I think I'd tell her I'm sorry. That it's not her
fault. I've never been able to go into trance. I don't blame her. That's
what I'd tell her. I'd tell her that I don't blame her. I blame me. She's
incredible. She's pure. Whatever she is, she is purely herself, and I love
that. She's superhuman, but not like a comic book character. Like, she's
beyond human. She's whatever humans are evolving into, the next thing in
humanity. Humans see people. She sees into people. Humans try to understand
each other. She can pull a human's strings like a puppet. If she doesn't
feel powerful, then I'm sorry. But she is. And even if that power isn't
enough to trance me, I'd just want to be around her. I'd want to watch her
trance other people. I'd want to learn from her and help her. I'd want to
be a part of her life and watch her be superhuman. Even if she can't trance
me, I want to be her friend."
"More than a friend?" suggested Joanna with a grin.
"No," said Nadia, blushing. "A friend. Because the important thing,
the thing I really want to tell her, is that I felt something. The last
time she was working with me, when she asked me if she was
attractive. Well, I don't just find her attractive. She's gorgeous. She's
perfect, but that doesn't mean I want to kiss her or anything. Attraction
isn't the same as appreciation. But when she asked me if I find her
attractive, I felt something shift in me. I felt a pull. I felt like
... shit ... I can't think of the word ..."
"Like a door opened?" suggested Joanna.
Nadia nodded. "Exactly. Like a door opened in my mind. And it
wasn't trance. It wasn't hypnosis or mind control, but it wasn't meditation
or reflection or whatever we do in yoga. It was something else. It was
something new. It was a door that she opened, that only she could open
inside me. No one, not in my whole life, has been able to open the doors
inside of me, but she did. So even if she couldn't trance me, she could
push some button inside of me."
Nadia felt a tear run down her cheek. She looked up to see Joanna
offering her a napkin. She took it, smiled, blushed, and looked back down
in her lap.
"That's what I'd tell her," said Nadia.
"Thank you for sharing."
"Thanks for listening." Nadia wiped her eyes one more time,
crumpled up the napkin, and sighed deeply. "I haven't been able to tell
anyone that."
"I love listening. If you ever need to process more, don't
hesitate."
"You don't find it weird, all the hypnosis stuff?"
"Weird as in new. Not weird as in bad. But hey, you're talking to
the girl that literally can't balance because of her huge implants."
Nadia laughed.
"But no, you're fine. We all have our thing. But I do have, like,
ten thousand more questions."
"Ask away," said Nadia with a shrug.
"If we're going to go into this, we need two things."
"What's that?"
Joanna leaned in and whispered conspiratorially: "Wine and pizza."


***************


Three hours later the two women were on the floor of Joanna's apartment,
halfway through a sausage pizza and well onto their third bottle of
wine. Joanna was an experienced drinker and didn't let herself get carried
away. Nadia, on the other hand, often avoided alcohol because it didn't mix
well with her medication. But tonight, screw it. She wanted to live a
little. "Okay, okay, okay," said Nadia, waving her hand. "You need to
answer one question for me." Joanna took a drink from her glass but waved
Nadia on to continue. Nadia had, in fact, asked several questions. She
wanted to know what Joanna did for work: she was a social media marketing
consultant. She wanted to know why Joanna moved away from Nashville: a bad
break up. She wanted to know what Joanna did for fun: video games, running,
serial dating, and picking girls up from yoga. Nadia had carefully avoided
the real question she had, but the third bottle was the charm. "Why get
implants?" asked Nadia with a sigh. "I mean, especially ones so ... so ..."
Nadia spread her hands away from her like she was pantomiming an explosion.
"Huge?" "Massive," said Nadia with a sigh that melted into a giggle. "I
mean, how big are they, technically?" "32K," said Joanna with a sigh. "I
didn't know they went up that high." "It's a pain in the ass to find bras,
if you want to know." "It seems like you intentionally wanted to be
uncomfortable when you picked that size." "The doctor told me it would
weigh too much," said Joanna. "But I insisted. Do you want to know how much
it cost me?" "No, what I want to know," said Nadia, waving her hands again
as though to get Joanna's attention. "Is why so big? I mean, I know guys
love huge tits, but you said you don't have a -" "I'm not into guys,"
interrupted Joanna quickly. "Pardon?" "I don't have huge tits for guys. I
don't date guys. I don't find them attractive." "Ooooooo," said
Nadia. "Right. Well, I don't know any lesbians except Penny but -" "You
know me," said Joanna with a smile. "I'm a lesbian." "Right, well I don't
any lesbians other than you and Penny, but I don't think women like women
with huge ..." Realization hit Nadia. "Oooooooooh." She sat up, pulling
away from Joanna. She felt the need to cover herself, she was still in her
workout outfit. But she was covered; there was nothing to hide from Joanna.
Joanna laughed. "Is this like ... is this a ..." Nadia leaned in again to
whisper. "Is this a date?" Joanna laughed again. "No. No. Not at all."
Nadia sighed with relief. "Oh. Okay." She bit her lip. "Good." "Not to
offend you, but do you think my choices are so slim that I need to pick up
straight women in order to get a date?" "No." Nadia blushed with
embarrassment. "Not at all. No. That's not what I'm saying. Goodness,
no. I'm just saying with the coffee and the talking and pizza and the wine
I just figured that ... that maybe ..." "I was trying to seduce you?"
teased Joanna. "When you say it like that ..." "I'm not trying to seduce
you, okay?" "Okay." "Rule number one: don't mess with straight
girls. They either want to use you for their curiosity or they're all a
tease. If they wanted tits and pussy, they'd woman up and call themselves
bi at least." Nadia giggled. "You said `pussy.'"
"Yes, I did." Joanna smirked, paused, leaned forward, bringing her
inches away from the girl, and whispered to Nadia, "pussy."
Nadia burst out laughing and rolled in a fit. Joanna laughed and
poured herself another glass of wine. She took the chance to refill Nadia's
glass while the girl rolled on the floor, laughing.
"I had a question for you," said Joanna as she put the cork back in
the bottle.
Nadia calmed down, wiped the tears forming at the corners of her
eyes, and sat up. "What's that?"
"Well, you talked about how much you loved Penny and her power, but
you never explained to me why hypnosis. What's the appeal?"
Nadia grinned like a c***d and hopped back up, taking her seat next
to Joanna. "You want to know?" she asked.
"That's why I asked."
"My whole life, my mind has been like a beehive."
"Lots of activity?"
"Tons. Too much, honestly. My mom took me to a doctor when I was
younger. ADHD. Anxiety. Mood-swings. Etc."
"I'm so sorry," said Joanna. She reached out a hand and put it on
Nadia's thigh in comfort.
"It's fine. It happened. It's my life. It's whatever. And it's not
that bad as long as I'm on my medicine. That's the secret." Nadia pointed
her finger and wagged it disapprovingly to Joanna. "Don't forget your
medicine."
"Gotcha," said Joanna in mock seriousness.
"4:30. Everyday. I have a meeting with the prinshipal," slurred
Nadia. She waved a little bit, and Joanna reached out to steady
her. "Thanks," said Nadia. Joanna let her hands slowly trail down Nadia's
arms and stay on Nadia's hips. Nadia took another sip of wine.
"Did you remember today?"
"No," said Nadia. She started giggling to herself. "I was too
distracted by your tits." She giggled more. She stopped suddenly, and her
eyes widened. "I didn't have to worry about drinking. Shame on me. I could
be drunker."
"I don't know if you should get much drunker."
"You should get much drunker," said Nadia.
Joanna smiled. "I'm fine, dear. But tell me more about the trance."
"Ah, yes," said Nadia. She did a fake British accent as she said
it. "The trance." Nadia took another sip from her wine. "I tried meditation
and yoga and hypnosis as ways to treat myself without the medicine. And the
more I practiced it, the more I wanted it. It didn't work, I couldn't go in
trance, but it was like waving a perfectly cooked steak in front of a
starving woman. All I did was try to go into trance and research it and
watch videos with it and listen to hypnofiles for it and read stories about
it."
"What kind of stories?"
Nadia smiled. "I'm not that drunk."
"Then finish the glass and tell me." Joanna winked at Nadia. The
wink was still grotesque, but now it was more of a private joke than an
embarrassment.
"I like the idea of shutting down. I like the idea of turning off
all the buzzing and guessing and second guessing. I wanted someone to strip
away all the things I hate about myself. I wanted to be fixed, I mean,
don't we all want to fixed? But I couldn't fix myself, and the meds could
fix me, but at a terrible cost. I didn't want to pay that cost. And
hypnotism, I mean, trance, felt like a way to get there without paying the
cost. I could be, just be, and not worry. I could exist without anxiety or
concern. I could be free."
Nadia looked to Joanna, but Joanna didn't say anything. She moved
closer to Nadia, sitting behind the redhead. She wrapped one leg around
her, and sat on the couch, Nadia in front of her, facing away, between her
legs. Her hands on Nadia's hip, and her chin on Nadia's shoulder.
"And sure," said Nadia. "There is plenty of spicy and erotic stuff
out there. I read stories." Nadia drained her glass. "And I liked what that
made me feel, too. I liked the idea of being powerless. If my mind was
turned off, I'd have to be powerless, right? I kept imagining myself as a
doll, a perfect doll. And my mind was off. And I didn't care what happened
to me once my mind was off because I didn't care about anything at all,
right? So, in some of my fantasies, the hypnotist would turn off my mind,
and he would admire me. He would admire my body and my skin. There was no
mind to admire, just an empty doll."
Nadia got quiet, but Joanna could feel her shifting in her seat.
"What would you want the hypnotist to do with you like that?"
whispered Joanna. "Whatever he wanted. If he wanted to play with me,
that's fine. He earned it, right? He finally turned off my mind. I'd be his
doll. He could do whatever he wanted." "Anything?" breathed Joanna into
Nadia's ear. Her breath was thick and heavy. The words followed the breath
and lingered on Nadia's neck. "I have a pretty twisted imagination,"
admitted Nadia. She squirmed again. "Sounds sexy." "It is. Being
powerless? Being used? I know, it's the twenty-first century, and I'm a
feminist. Trust me, I get it. But all I want is my mind off. And once my
mind is off, my body is on. And I can't think of a better way to thank
whoever did it." "I get it," said Joanna. "There's something so
intoxicating about being powerless, about being transformed. There is
absolute trust that whoever you give all that power to will take care of
you, will play with you well. You could lay your mind bare. They could play
around inside your head. Take all those noisy thoughts away
forever. Transform you. Your very identity would be malleable in their
hands." Nadia sighed and bit her lip. "You agree?" asked Joanna. "Yes,"
breathed Nadia. "They could make you anything." "Yes." "They could fix
you." "Yes." "They could break you." "Whatever they wanted," admitted
Nadia. "What if a hypnotist made you a slut?" asked Joanna. She slid her
hands down to Nadia's thighs as she said it. "I'd be whatever they
wanted." Joanna felt Nadia almost panting in front of her. Nadia shifted
her weight back and forth, grinding her thighs together. "Or suck a
stranger's cock?" Nadia moaned. "Whatever they wanted." "Or lick a
woman's pussy?" Joanna's hands slid further over Nadia's thighs, closer to
Nadia's crotch. "Whatever they wanted." "Or be a lesbian." "Whatever the
hypnotist wanted." Joanna kissed Nadia's neck. At first, Nadia froze, but
then she moaned and leaned into it. Joanna kissed her neck again. Nadia's
back arched into Joanna. Joanna kept kissing, but her kisses turned into
little licks and tiny sucks over Nadia's flesh. Nadia opened up to
Joanna. She spread her legs apart, giving Joanna's roaming hands
access. Joanna guided Nadia's hands, and encouraged the girl to rub herself
through her yoga pants. Joanna moved closer, pressing her large breasts
against Nadia's back. She nibbled Nadia's ear and felt the girl shiver.
Nadia whimpered. "But I'm not in trance."
"You're drunk," said Joanna. She sucked on the lobe of Nadia's
ear. Nadia let out almost a shriek of ecstasy. "That's close enough."
Joanna slipped off the couch, and Nadia immediately fell
backwards. Joanna took a moment to savor her work. Nadia's legs were
spread, and her right hand was rubbing at her pussy through her
clothes. Her eyes were closed, but she kept squirming, kept writhing, as
she brought herself closer and closer. Joanna stepped forward and grabbed
the top of Nadia's pants. She pulled them down, and Nadia didn't resist.
Joanna smiled. The girl's panties were soaked. She grabbed them as
well, but Nadia's free hand went up to stop her.
"I'm your hypnotist," said Joanna with new strength in her
voice. "Be what I want you to be."
"Yesss," moaned Nadia and moved her hands away.
Joanna pulled down Nadia's panties and went to her knees. She knew
Nadia wasn't tranced. Nadia was horny. She was desperate and lonely and
drunk. That's a recipe for a mistake, not something permanent like what
Miss Penny does. Nadia wasn't going to reciprocate anything. But Joanna
could make her cum, make her question herself just a little bit to give
Miss Penny a foothold. She smiled and approached Nadia's soaked pussy.
Joanna started gently. She didn't want to scare Nadia, but Nadia
was eager. She grabbed the back of Joanna's head and pressed it deeper into
her pussy. Nadia didn't want to be teased. She wanted to cum. Joanna went
to work, sliding her tongue up and down Nadia's pussy in long strokes. She
was so wet.
"Yes," moaned Nadia. "Make me what you want. Make me cum."
Joanna slid her tongue deeper into Nadia. She found the clit and
wasted no time. As soon as she licked it, Nadia shivered and clenched the
sides of Joanna's head with her thighs.
"Oooh," whimpered Nadia. Her voice was breaking and squeaking.
Joanna sucked the area around Nadia's clit, pulling the flesh into
her mouth. Then, she carefully used her tongue to separate the folds from
the clit. She kept sucking, holding it in position without her teeth,
hovering it right in front of her tongue. She went to work flicking her
tongue back and forth. Nadia writhed, twisting her hips and almost pulling
Joanna away from her, but Joanna held strong. She used her hands to pin
down Nadia's thighs on either side.
She lost the clit. She returned to long licks. When she was sure
Nadia had settled down, she moved one hand off of Nadia's thigh and slid
two fingers into Nadia's eager pussy. She curved them once inside, finding
the g-spot. From there, she pumped her hand, massaging Nadia's g-spot.
"Oh, shit," said Nadia. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit
ohshitshitshit."
Joanna lowered herself back to the hood of Nadia's pussy and
sucked. The folds came up, and she parted them with her tongue, finding the
clit. She didn't stop pumping her right hand into Nadia, and used all the
strength she could with her left hand to keep Nadia pinned down.
Her tongue found Nadia's clit and flicked wildly. Nadia shrieked.
"Oh, fuck. Holy fuck. Fucking fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,"
shrieked Nadia. "Yes. Yes. Fucking fuck me. Fuck. Fuck me. Yes. Fuck. Holy
shit. Fuck. Fuck me."
Joanna pumped faster and applied pressure with her tongue. Nadia
shrieked again, in one long howl. Her body locked and went rigid, her back
arched.
"Fuck! Fuck me, Penny!" She moaned and came.
As Nadia's writhing body settled, her eyes widened. She looked down
at Joanna, embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
"It's okay, dear," said Joanna, smirking. "You didn't offend little
ol' me."
"I didn't mean to ... I didn't ... I just." Nadia pushed past
Joanna to grab her panties and yoga pants, and stood. "I didn't mean to."
"Again, I don't mind whose name your shriek as long as I'm the one
licking."
"No. It's not just the name ... it's ... this whole thing went too
... the wine." Nadia shrugged. "I'm sorry." Nadia started to dress in a
blur. "I should get home. It's late."
"You don't need to rush off. I promise, I'm fine."
"No. I should go. I don't normally do this kind of thing ... with
... well not just with you but with anyone ... I don't do ..."
"One night stands?" helped Joanna.
Nadia nodded.
"Me either." Joanna got up and went to her purse. She took out her
card. "So call me, okay?"
Nadia looked at the card nervously, not taking it. "I'm not looking
for a relationship."
"Not a relationship," said Joanna. She stepped forward and tucked
the card into Nadia's top and then further into her sports bra. "A
friendship."
"A friendship?" asked Nadia.
"Yes. Now let me call you a taxi or something. You're too drunk to
drive. Call me tomorrow and we'll find a way to get your car back to you."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
Joanna stepped away to call, and Nadia calmed down. Joanna didn't
take her eyes off the girl, half afraid she'd disappear before Joanna could
help her.
"There," said Joanna. "They'll be here any minute. I paid for
it. Don't worry."
"You're sure?" asked Nadia.
"Yes. Stop second-guessing yourself. You're fine."
"Okay," sighed Nadia. "I just don't normally do this kind of thing,
and I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage of you."
"Not at all." Joanna stalked towards Nadia and whispered in her
ear. "Besides, you're not a lesbian, remember?"
Joanna kissed Nadia's neck. Nadia's knees bent, and she
moaned. Joanna laughed and stepped away. Not yet!
"Sorry," she said with a shrug. "I couldn't help myself. That'll be
my only revenge. I promise."
"Thanks," said Nadia, blushing. Her hand went up to her neck,
holding the spot where Joanna kissed her.
*******************************************************************
6
The Rabbit Hole Chapter 6: Pain
By Trixie Adara
Edited by Abby H.


**** Warning: These chapter has disturbing and cruel images in it. If you
want something purely erotic, read the beginning and the end. Skip
everything in italics. For Penny's sake, this story must be told, but the
parts in italics are not meant to arouse you. ****


Penny


Present Day


"Would you like your messages?" asked Harold as Penny stormed past him. He
didn't know where she went. She wouldn't tell him.

"Only from Joanna."

"Her reports are in your office."

"Thank you, Harold."

Penny didn't stop, and Harold didn't follow. She had a lot of work to catch
up, but more importantly she had to reach out to Nadia. She was ready
now. Nadia wouldn't resist her. No one could resist her anymore. She had
proved that.

Her office was clean. She half wondered if there would be some sign of
Nadia still lingering after the abrupt end to their last
conversation. Maybe Nadia left something behind? There was a tinge of
disappointment to seeing her office bare. It was as she preferred it, but
something was off now.

Waiting for her on her desk was a clean stack of folders. Each folder
represented a date. Each date came with notes from Joanna (Penny,
unfortunately, left her literate for this purpose), pictures of her
encounters with Nadia, and pictures of Nadia as she followed her about the
city. Penny flipped through it idly. It didn't overly matter. Nadia would
tell her every detail about her life in excruciating detail. Besides,
nothing interesting caught her eye. Nadia was single. She hadn't found a
new boyfriend. She was a teacher. She had a ther****t and psychiatrist. Her
parents were pastors in Texas. She had one sister and one brother. She did
well in school, but nothing impressive.

In short, Nadia was ordinary. Other than her ability to resist Penny and
every other hypnotist she'd been to, there was no reason she should be able
to fight. There could be any factors that Joanna hadn't been able to sort
out. It could be genetic or some trauma deeper in Nadia's past. Joanna
wrote that she was friends with Nadia, the two spent a great deal of time
together, but Nadia didn't open up about every detail of her life. There
would be time for that. Penny wanted answers more than anything else, but
she wasn't in a rush anymore. Soon, Nadia's mind would be a playground for
her to romp through.

She buzzed for Harold, and he appeared in her doorway seven seconds
later. "Yes, Miss Penny?" he asked.

"Send for Joanna immediately."

"Yes, Miss Penny. Do you want an appointment for Miss MacQuarrie?"

"Not yet. I need to to test a few things."

"Yes, ma'am," said Harold, turning to leave.

"Oh, Harold?" asked Penny with a smirk. Harold paused, his hand on the
doorknob, looking at his mistress in eager expectation. Penny
concentrated. She focused on her throat, her voice, tightened the vocal
cords, like stretching or yawning with her mouth shut. She could feel the
power in her. It was ready.

"Cum for me," ordered Penny. The air seemed to shake with the weight of her
words.

Harold's eyes immediately rolled backwards. His knees buckled and dipped to
the ground. He caught himself on the door, but it swung open. A thick moan
escaped his lips, and Penny watched eagerly as a small stain appeared on
the crotch of his pants. There was no time for questions, no time even for
shock. Harold's body obeyed immediately and without question.

Penny smiled.





*************





2 months earlier ....





The walls of the cave stank with mold and stale water. Penny turned
the flashlight on her phone and looked around. The floor was riddled with
dips and puddles. Camille should have told her that heels would be wildly
inappropriate here. If the vampire was to be believed, Penny didn't have
much further to go.

After twenty minutes of stumbling in the dark, Penny found a small
room with smooth walls and a domed ceiling. In the center of the room stood
a dais, and on that dais sat a shallow basin. Penny paused, uncomfortable
in the ominous room. She knew about the supernatural. It was hard to work
so eagerly with corrupting and controlling people and not stumble upon true
power, but previously she had the wisdom to avoid such
complications. Perhaps Harold was right, bringing in Camille was rash.

It was too late to go back now. She'd flown across the planet, to
the tiny region of Stryia, in southeast Austria. Here, Camille told her
there was power. She said there would be darkness and pain, but she assured
Penny that there would be power as well. Camille sent her to a small room
in the back of a dark cave hidden in a remote mountain. The directions were
clear, but the source was questionable.

The room was questionable as well. It looked ancient, but it didn't
feel that way. It wasn't stuffy or abandoned. It smelled cleaner than the
rest of the room besides a sharp tang of something that reeked of
copper. Penny wasn't sure. Was this it? Some ancient chamber in the heart
of a mountain connecting to deep and dark magic? Who filled the basin? Did
someone protect it? Was it as simple as Penny walking up and taking a
drink? Was that water in there?

Penny waited. Time slowed. Each moment was heavy. There was the
hunger in her, the dark passion for power. She knew what she wanted. She
knew what she needed. Camille had been clear. Drink from the basin. That's
it. The room was filled with darkness, but where was the pain? Camille had
promised pain.

She bent down and grabbed a small stone. She threw it into the
room. Nothing happened, just the clatter of stone on stone. Penny was sure
she wasn't alone. Camille was not a simple creature. She consumed, that was
where her power came from. Whatever Camille had sent Penny to would consume
as well. The basin was a test, but it wasn't the source.

Penny swallowed. She didn't have time to waste. Nadia was waiting
for her. Joanna was waiting for her. A whole world of injustice was waiting
for her, and she would set it right. But she needed power first.

As she approached, she saw a small clay cup next to the basin. The
basin itself looked to be painted black. It was crude, lacking the
smoothness of a professional touch. Penny couldn't tell if the liquid
inside the basin was red or if the inside of the basin was painted red. She
paused, looking around the room. She was still alone but obviously being
watched. Something was waiting for her to drink.

Penny sighed. She was being c***dish. If some terrible evil was
waiting for her in the darkness, she gained nothing by be afraid. It hadn't
destroyed her yet. Why not meet it head on and reason with it?

Penny grabbed the clay cup and scooped up the liquid. It wasn't
thick as she had feared. It wasn't red either. It was a simple amber,
almost a light gold. She smelled it. It didn't smell like anything.

"What the hell," muttered Penny. "If you make a deal with a
vampire, you're going to get screwed one way or another. Might as well get
it over with."

Penny drank it one gulp. She expected it to burn. She expected a
horrendous or acrid aftertaste. She expected the pain Camille
promised. Instead, she tasted nothing. Not sweetness or saltiness. Not
bitterness or acidity. It was like water, though it barely touched her
tongue.

What Penny did feel immediately was a sudden and sharp
migraine. She dropped her phone and lost its light. Despite the total
darkness, the room felt too bright. Her eyes burned like the tiny bit of
light in the cave was solid, driving through her eyes and into the front of
her brain. She closed to her eyes, trying to dull the pain. Through the
back of her eyes there was a faint swirling light. It widened and opened
the field of her vision.





My little brother. He's crying in his crib. He was sick all the time. I
could no longer sleep with my older sisters. The pajamas they put me in
were itchy. Not silky like my sisters. So itchy. I cried for someone to
help me. I stomped my foot and said I hated these pajamas, but no one would
listen. They went to my brother. No one saw me crying.





Penny opened her eyes. Her brother was gone. The pajamas were
gone. She sank to her knees, holding the side of her head. What was this?

"Pain," said a voice somewhere. Behind her? In the darkness? In the
corner of her mind. It echoed through her. It was deep and gravelly, like
the earth itself speaking to her through shifting boulders.



My sister, Sheri. She was beautiful. I loved her long hair. If I was good,
I could brush it. I would sneak into her bedroom and sleep alongside
her. When my parents found out, they took me back to my room, no matter how
much I kicked or screamed.





Penny rolled to her side, holding the side of her head. "Why?" she
asked.

"Purify," rumbled the Voice.



My dachshund Susie and I snuggled in bed. She was the only one that knew I
was crying. She licked my face. She was my only friend. I took her
everywhere. I trained her and competed in dog shows with her. She loved
being in the the ring. She was great at showing. Majestic. We were the cute
ones competing against adults. When I was seven, I came home from school,
and my Susie was gone. My parents had sold her for breeding. She was more
valuable that way.





"Stop!" gasped Penny. She rolled onto her hands and knees, trying
to steady herself. She needed to find her phone. If she found her phone, if
it was still working, she could get out of here. She needed to get out of
here.

"Purify," commanded the Voice.





The neighborhood girls liked to play with me. I fascinated them, I
think. There was something about me that pulled them to me. I liked the
attention. I liked that people wanted me. I did things to them. Made them
react to me. Their faces. Their moans. Their Lust.





"No," croaked Penny. She opened her eyes. The pain cut through her
like razors shoved through her ears and eyes. She needed to get out of
here. She needed to keep her eyes open. She got to her feet, slowly. The
room spun around her, but she kept her footing. She didn't need her
phone. She needed to go. She needed to get out of here.

Penny staggered to the entrance of the room, but as she reached out
with her hands to find the tunnel that fed into it, she found only
wall. She used the wall to guide her to the left and started searching for
the way out blindly. Each moment her eyes were open was agony. She wondered
if she was bleeding, if she was dying. But she couldn't close her eyes. She
couldn't go back.

"Purify," demanded the voice.

"No," whispered Penny. "No."

She followed the curved wall of the room. Time felt wrong. She must
have circled the room by now. Maybe a dozen times by now. But the wall was
everywhere. She couldn't find the way out. Maybe there was no way out.

"What do you want from me?" asked Penny.

"Remember."

"Why? Why do I need to remember that?"

"Purify."

"I can't. Please. I can't remember that. Isn't there some other
way? Any other way?"

"Pain."





They would touch me. Reaching out for me, their hands finding me in the
dark, I felt wanted for the first time. I felt seen. I felt beautiful like
Sheri. I liked to make them feel good, to take care of them. I like to make
people feel good. They would be talking, babbling like school girls, but
when they got quiet, late at night, they would look into my eyes and calm
down. Their breathing would become heavy and ragged. They would fall asleep
staring into my eyes.





Penny opened her eyes. "Please," she begged. "No more."

"Remember."





My next door neighbor's father worked at a salvage company. One day, he
brought home a barrel of porn books. I loved books. I read everything I
could when I was alone. I was always alone. The barrel was like a treasure
chest to me. One of my friends read them with me in the attic. I found
stories of boys being turned into girls. I showed them to her. She didn't
like them. I loved those stories the best, the boys became so
pretty. People wanted to touch them once they were pretty. I knew I was one
of them.





"I'm not one of them," muttered Penny. She was on the cavern floor
again. Her knees and shins were bruised and sc****d. With her eyes open,
the pain returned. It was lightning directly into her prefrontal cortex. It
was a thousand forgotten hands, reaching out for her throat, her legs, her
arms, where the ropes bound her, and pulling her back into the basin. The
memories would drown her in the basin. She was lost. She lost.

"Remember." The room shook with the Voice's impatience.





One of the babysitters found us in the attic. I was reading, and my friend
was touching me. We were trying to be like the pictures, but none of us was
the boy. We needed a boy to finish the picture. We hid in shame, but she
wasn't angry. Why wasn't she angry? She tied me to a chair. She touched
me. I wanted to cry out, but I couldn't make it stop. I was powerless. The
others girls watched. I came in shame. The babysitter said I needed
training. It wasn't the last time.





"No," groaned Penny. "Make it stop." She stumbled in the dark and
found her phone. The screen was cracked. She tried to unlock the screen,
but the backlight was hell. She was blinded and the world was white. The
white was agony. The pain spread from her head to her body. She shook from
it. Her skin was stabbed with a dozen knives. Then a dozen more. The knives
turned hot, and Penny prayed her nerves would die. She prayed her body
would pass out from the pain. There was no mercy. There was only pain.

"Remember," ordered the Voice.

"Will it stop?" screamed Penny. Her legs shook. She held the side
of her head, she covered her eyes, but nothing stopped the white hot
pain. Nothing hid her from the light. She had to close her eyes. That was
the only way, and that way was death.

"If I remember, will is stop?"

"Remember."

"Fuck you."

"Remember. Pure. Pain." The room shook again. The dais fell over
and the basin spilled, drenching Penny in the amber liquid. Her eyes shut
to shield themselves, and Penny remembered.





*******





The private mental hospital had been converted from an old route 66
roadside motel. They drove me into the courtyard under a stone arch with
river rocks lining the drive. They were going to fix me. The babysitter
told my mother I needed to fixed. My aunt. My mother. My babysitter, one
after another. They all wanted to fix me. I could ensnare them, entrap
them, but they still wanted to fix the thing that allured them. No one
could control me.

I was locked in a room with only a bed. The nurse came in and
wrapped me in the sheets so I could not move. I was hers. She told me it
was like a hug. It would hold me. I was safe. They needed me to be safe and
still while they fixed me. I wanted to be fixed. I knew that what I was was
wrong.

The next day I was placed in an ice bath with a rubber top over the
tub and only my head out. They put a ball gag in my mouth to keep me from
screaming or biting my tongue. They hooked up electrodes to my head and
turned on the shock therapy machine. It was heaven and hell throughout my
whole body. I could taste cooper. I was nothing but pain.

Back in my bed, I was trapped in my nurse's wrappings. She said I
would be safe, and I was only safe in her arms, in my bed. I heard music
playing. It was faint and fading, like coming from a different room. I
remember the sound of bells. I heard the rain pouring down outside my
room. Every sense was so much more. I could hear birds in the background. I
could smell my nurse, rooms away. I could feel the sun behind the clouds
and the stone and my thick blankets. I don't know how long I was there,
feeling everything, so deeply connected and so completely abandoned. I
lived a whole life in peace, until the nurse returned.

There were hypnosis sessions after that. I was strapped into a
chair. My genitals were wired up to a machine, and the nurse darkened the
room. With my new eyes, I could make her outline out in the darkness, but
she didn't know. She didn't know I had lived lifetimes and seen more than
she could understand. She started to hypnotize me with the sound of her
voice. It was loud, being so close, and it drowned out everything else.

Then there, in front of me on the wall, were scenes of female bodies. They
were so pretty. I admired them. I wanted to be them. I knew them. Something
in me, older than me, knew them. Then the images moved. The women had
sex. I had never imagined what women could do with each other. What
happened before, what happened to me, was a sick joke. What these women did
with each other was a dance. It was a miracle. It was majesty. It was
everything I was not.

I started to get aroused.

And then the pain. My genitals were on fire. My mind went blank from the
pain, and I passed out. I came to with nasty smells in my nose, and the
room was dark except for her outline. She talked to me again, and then the
images and the pain. Over and over.

My mind shut down from the pain, and I awoke in total darkness. The sight
beyond sight was gone. I think I had been fed but I don't remember it.

The days melted together. I was in the bed and then the ice and the
shocks. Over and over. Day after day. I became numb. It was the only way to
survive. The only way out was to retreat deeper and deeper into myself, but
my body wasn't safe. When the sessions started, I would leave my body and
float away to another place. It was dark there. Scary. But I felt no pain
there. There were other beings there. Dark, hungry beings. They wanted me,
like everyone else. They whispered to me, telling me about revenge. They
offered power. Their voices were deep and rumbled. In the dark with them,
the world shook like boulders shifting. I was afraid of them. At that time,
I was always afraid. But I was safe with them. I could be safe.

I don't know how long I was there. I remember that they were strong, and I
was getting weaker. With their strength, they d**g me to pool of water. It
reflected bright light and it washed over me. The light was thick, like a
wind or rain. Blanking out, the darkness and a voice in my head said that I
was stronger than the darkness. I was special. The light would protect
me. I knew it was true. I was safe, locked away from the darkness and I
could stand there in the darkness. I felt peace in the darkness, but I was
bathed in light. I was someone else inside and someone else outside. Penny
was neither, but she was safe.

Hearing voices took me back out of the darkness. I opened my eyes. The
nurse was laughing, showing me more women making love. I wasn't aroused. I
wouldn't be shocked again. I couldn't speak with the gag in my mouth, but
she looked into my eyes and I had her. I had her like the little girls in
my attic and in my bad. I had her and she would help me break free. She
would serve me, and I serve the voices.





**********





Penny gasped and opened her eyes. There was no pain. The room was
dark but fainter now. The dais, basin, and cup were crashed over on the
floor. Her clothes were wet with the amber liquid. Penny looked around. She
could see the tunnel leading out of the domed room. She looked for the
source of the Voice, but there was nothing.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Yes," said the Voice. It was calmer now, like a cascade of gravel.

"I'm done?'

"Yes."

"What the hell was the point of that?"

"Remember."

"I did, you piece of shit." Penny sat up, putting her weight on her
knees. "I remembered things I wanted gone forever. Are you happy?" She ran
her hands over her clothes, trying to wipe away the amber liquid, but they
were soaked through. God, how long had she been in here?

"Power is pain."

"Listen. I'm a performer. You can quit with being vague and
mysterious for effect. You're not impressing anyone." Penny wiped her face
and was surprised to find traces of tears there. "Just tell me, did it
work?"

"Yes."

"I have power now?"

"Yes."

"Prove it."

"No." The room shook. Penny rose to her feet.

"I came here for power. I passed your test. Where is the power
promised? I went through pain. More pain than you can know, you mysterious
piece of shit. Give me the power. I deserve it. I've earned it!"

The room echoed with Penny's shouts. She waited to hear the Voice
rumble back to her. Instead, she heard a wind whip up from down the tunnel
she entered through. She turned around and saw a black smoke, almost a fog
spiraling towards her. She opened her mouth to scream, and the smoke
charged into her. It went down her throat and filled her lungs. It had a
physicality to it. Penny could feel it pressing against the side of her
throat, against her diaphragm and chest. It was more thing than gas. It was
more real than smoke. She tried to scream, but nothing happened. She braced
herself against the wall and held firm while the darkness entered her.

When it was over, there wasn't a sound in the chamber, not even the
sound of Penny's ragged breathing. She panted, trying to catch her breath,
and waiting for the Voice's response. Nothing came.

"Shhh -" she tried to speak, but only thin and ragged breath came
out. She moved her lips helplessly, wheezing, but not forming words. A
weakness overtook her. She needed to go. She needed to sleep. It wasn't
safe here. Something was wrong, and she needed to speak with Camille. She
needed help. She tried to move, but her legs were like lead. She tried to
step but tripped. She hit her head against the basin as she went down. As
darkness took her, she saw the amber liquid on the ground creeping toward
her.





*********





One week later ...





"The new girl is cute," said Penny from a comfortable chair in
Camille Kontalban's office. The vampiric writer was beautiful. She had long
curly black hair that she wore in a loose bun. It was striking against her
pale skin and delicate features. She had a crisp white blouse and tight
suit pant. She looked corporate but feminine. Penny approved.

"How was your trip?" said Camille, ignoring the comment.

"Productive."

"Painful?" asked Camille with a smirk.

"Productivity always is."

"Power is pain," said Camille.

Penny's smile wilted. "Yes."

"But it worked."

"I have to test it more thoroughly. It's hard to work with rural Austrians
if you don't speak German."

"Indeed."

"I thought you had lied," said Penny, leaning forward. "I thought you had
tricked me."

"You were foolish to trust me so eagerly. You were desperate."

"I was weak," said Penny, sitting back. "That won't happen again."

"No," said Camille, taking a sip from her slim coffee cup. "I imagine it
won't."

"Is that where you went? Is that how you became ... what you are?"

Camille took another long sip of her coffee. She placed the cup back down
on its saucer and looked at Penny pointedly.

"You should have tried commanding them to speak English," she said finally.

"The Austrians?"

"Yes."

"In English?"

"Yes."

"That would work?"

Camille shrugged. "Griselbrand never makes the same deal twice. You should
try it."

"Speak Russian," said Penny. The words seemed to have a deeper note to
them, a bass that thrummed through them.

Camille laughed as though the words tickled her. "Penny, dear, not on
me. Try on a mortal." She spoke in crisp English.

Penny pursed her lips. "Fine." She stood to leave. Camille wasn't going to
give her any explanations. She found Penny amusing. Cute. Weak.

"You've recovered well for your time in the cave."

Penny paused but didn't sit back down. "A few days in the hospital. My
voice returned. When I told the nurses to leave, they didn't hesitate. When
I told them to get me new clothes, they obeyed. It was simple, but everyone
obeyed."

"And your health?"

"Sc****s and bruises. They don't know what happened to my voice."

"No." Camille smiled. "They wouldn't."

"It came back."

"Yes." Camille took another sip.

Penny waited for Camille to say something else, to ask a question, to do
anything, but the pale woman took another sip of coffee. She stared at
Penny with her deep, patient eyes. Penny was wasting time, but Camille had
more time than she knew what to do with.

"I thought you were trying to kill me," said Penny.

"If I wanted to kill you," Camille smile wide, showing her teeth, "that
would be easy and wasteful." Her smile faded. "You came to me in pain and
anger. At such a point, you were half in the clutches of the demon, doing
his work for years. I just arranged a formal introduction for your lifelong
patron."

Penny's mouth moved, trying to form the dozen questions that sprang to her
mind.

Camille smiled. "Go play. You waste time with me. Test your new
strength. That is - after all - what you wanted. Yes?"

Penny nodded. Yes. She wanted to go play. She smiled to herself. She very
much wanted to go play.

Penny left Camille's mansion and walked through the streets of
downtown. It was a grey and rainy day, but there was still a bit of foot
traffic. It was a Saturday; people wanted to shop and eat regardless of the
weather. A crowd was perfect to play in. No one would notice her influence,
and peer pressure was a great counter force to test against.

Penny asked a young woman selling t-shirts to speak in Russian. The
woman obeyed. Camille was right. More importantly, she didn't find her
behavior strange. Penny asked if the woman was aware she was speaking
Russian. She was. Penny asked if she knew how she learned Russian. She
didn't. She didn't find it strange that she knew Russian, she didn't find
it strange that she suddenly switched to Russian, and she didn't find it
strange when she forgot Russian. Most importantly, Penny found she could
command the woman to forget about the exchange entirely.

Penny went into a restaurant for some tea. The waitress was pretty
but rude. She was slow, lazy, and indignant. Penny followed the young woman
into the bathroom and told her to "go fuck yourself." The woman obeyed
immediately, fingering herself with enthusiasm. She obeyed each of Penny's
suggestions: "moan like a whore," "abandon your bra and panties," "be a
docile and attentive servant to all customers," "work harder," and "take on
more hours."

Only after she left did she realize everything else she could have
done, like thinking of the best insults and comebacks after an
argument. Penny's eyes widened with realization. Could she have told the
woman to fuck strangers? Could she have made her work naked for the rest of
the day? Then a darker voice intruded: could she have told the woman to
kill herself?

Penny smiled. Yes. Power is pain, and pain is power.

She found that using her power was intoxicating. She didn't need
The Rabbit Hole. She didn't need bells or rain or even her rings. She
needed her voice. She was the power. It wasn't a show anymore. On stage,
she pretended to be something more than human. Now, she was something more
than human. Could someone under her control resist Reyna? Could someone
under her control resist Camille? Could she steal their servants and pets?
Was she among the elite women of the world, the women who had surpassed
humanity for the delicious darkness of control and subjugation?

The smile almost never left Penny's face all day. Except for a
middle aged couple arguing behind her at lunch. She didn't like this
restaurant. He felt they never got to eat where he wanted to eat. She said
they went wherever he wanted all the time. He said he had a bad week and
all he wanted was a steak from his favorite restaurant. It went on and
on. Penny tried to drown them out, but something about the man's tone
grated on her ears. Penny kept turning around to look at them, checking to
see if he was grabbing her or threatening her. There was an air of v******e
in his voice that made the hair on Penny's neck stand on edge.



My aunt pinches me. She twists my nipples. She says things, things I can't
repeat. I want to go home. I am home. I want to be safe. Home isn't
safe. Where is safe? Where is home?



Penny's throat tightened. It was sore.

"Jesus, you always do this," said the man.

"John, you're hurting me," said the woman.

"If you don't want to eat here, if you're too good to give me what
I want the few times I ask for it, let's leave."

Penny turned around. The man, with graying hair, a clean-shaven
face, in a pinstripe suit, was gripping the wrist of the woman. She was
younger than him, she looked to be in her early thirties. She was Asian,
with short black hair, barely touching her shoulders, but long and delicate
features. Even from here, Penny could see how tight his grip was. They got
up to leave, and before Penny could think better of it, she followed.

Outside the restaurant, on the street, they were arguing. Well,
more accurately, he was berating her and she was looking around,
embarrassed to be chastised in public by him. Penny moved without thought,
almost without will. Her focus was intent. She had heard that in times of
crisis, some rescuers would stop thinking. Their bodies would take over,
doing exactly what needed to be done before thought could interfere. There
was no hesitation, only absolute focus. Such was Penny as she approached
them. They didn't look over as she invaded their personal space. The man's
face was turning red. Nothing would stop him from putting her in her place.

"Stop," said Penny. The air seemed to shake around her as she said
it. The man stopped speaking immediately. It was simple, as though he had
lost the power to speak. His face relaxed and the color faded from it.

"Take me to your car." The man turned and walked. The woman walked
beside him. "Walk behind him," ordered Penny, and the woman took a step
back.

The man lead them wordlessly, and Penny spoke with the woman. She
found her name was Jennifer. She introduced herself as Jenny, but Penny
pushed on that. He called her Jenny. She preferred Jennifer. The man was
named John. He was her husband. They had been married three years. She was
not happy. He ignored her most of the time, and then he either wanted sex
or he was annoyed with her for something. She felt she could do nothing
right. He was always dissatisfied with her.

"Drive us here." Penny showed John the address off Getwell. He put
the address in his phone and drove. Jennifer and Penny sat in the back
seat.

"Are you scared?" asked Penny.

Jennifer shook her head.

"I'm going to take care of you," said Penny. "He won't hurt you
ever again."

Penny knew Jennifer couldn't lie, but the woman still looked
uncomfortable, disturbed. Penny ordered her to relax, and she did. She
ordered her to cuddle with her in the back seat of the car, and she
did. She asked if this helped, and Jennifer said it did. Penny wasn't sure
if she could believe her, but she held Jennifer while John drove them to
Romantix.

Romantix was a simple sex shop and boutique. The city lacked
anything glamorous for adult play, and it had a smell about it. It felt
cheap, though for this, Penny didn't mind. In the middle of a Saturday,
there were only two other customers in the store and one person behind the
counter. The clerk was a woman, young, in her twenties, covered in
piercings and tattoos. The two men were both older, overweight, and
unremarkable in every way.

Penny quickly took command of the store. There was another employee
in the back. Penny told him to close the store and go home for the day. He
locked the door on his way out. The two customers were ordered to sit in a
corner and look away. The clerk became her attendant.

Penny found an eerie calm in herself. She knew what she was going
to do to him. She wondered if she could simply tell him to become a
woman. Would he obey? Could he? Could she make him gay with a sentence? The
thought made her nervous. She didn't want to accidentally break the spell
she had over him. Besides, it wasn't just about teaching him a lesson. It
was about empowering Jennifer. She never would be treated this way
again. John wouldn't be capable of it after today, and Jennifer wouldn't
tolerate it after today.

"Strip," ordered Penny. Both Jennifer and John obeyed. They were
wordless in all their deeds, and it was the silence that surrounded her
power that disturbed Penny the most. No one protested. No one
hesitated. They were all puppets to her now. Each of them was less and less
human as long as Penny's power ws wrapped tight about their soul.

"Kneel." They both fell before her. She stood over John. He wasn't
much like this. Without his suit, without ruling over a smaller and younger
woman, he clearly had no power. Jennifer had nothing to fear, and soon no
one would have anything to fear from him.

Penny motioned for the clerk to attend her. The woman had a
shockingly pink hair swept to one side, a black tank-top, and black skinny
jeans.

"What's your name?"

"Autumn."

"That's a beautiful name." Penny smiled. She brushed a hand through the
young girl's hair. Autumn neither smiled nor flinched. Penny hadn't
commanded her to.

"Thank you."

"Find me a strap-on and some lube. It should be for an experienced ass,
someone who needs more girth and depth than a beginner."

Autumn wordlessly obeyed. Penny brought her attention back to John.

"You will never touch a woman again."

John said nothing. His face didn't change. He was a mask of nothingness
that Penny could fill and shape as she pleased.

"When I give you a command, say `yes, Miss Penny' if it has become absolute
truth to you."

"Yes, Miss Penny," said everyone in the sex shop.

Penny smiled. She would have to be more specific.

"John, you will never touch a woman again unless they ask you to."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"Jennifer is in charge now."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"The purpose of your life is to make her happy."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

Penny went over to Jennifer. The young woman was blank as well. There was
nothing in there unless Penny put it in there. Jennifer would be whatever
Penny wanted, and Penny wanted her to be an instrument of strength, a tool
to punish John and men like John forever.

"Jennifer, you hate John."

"Yes, Miss Penny," intoned the woman.

"He is a disappointment. He is nothing."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"You will get whatever satisfaction you can from such a useless piece of
shit."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"You may fuck him if you please, but he may not touch you without your
permission."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"You may punish him however and whenever you want."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"You deserve better, but do not leave him. He will be your servant if you
do not want such a waste of human existence as a husband."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"Are you bisexual?" asked Penny.

"No."

"You are bisexual," said Penny.

"Yes, Miss Penny." Like that, Jennifer was a new woman. Penny chuckled to
herself. She could do anything she wanted to any person. No one was above
her. Each person was a toy, a doll. Their personalities, their preferences,
were nothing to her. It didn't matter what anyone wanted anymore. It only
mattered what Penny wanted.

"You find women attractive."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"They make you wet."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"You find me attractive. I make you wet."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"Become wet."

"Yes, Miss Penny." Penny saw the signs of her command
immediately. Jennifer's eyes locked on to Penny's body. Her breaths were
deeper, almost ragged. Penny admired Jennifer's chest rise and fall with
lust as she admired Penny. Penny liked to be admired.

Autumn returned with a bright pink strap-on, it was huge, and a bottle of
lube. Penny took it from her.

"Do you find Autumn attractive?" asked Penny to Jennifer.

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"Autumn, kiss Jennifer."

Autumn obeyed. Penny waited for the kiss to end, but it didn't. The two
women stayed with their lips locked, their tongues dancing, while Penny
watched. Slowly, she realized that they may kiss until she ordered them to
stop. She had to be careful.

"Stop."

Both of them obeyed.

"Autumn are you bisexual?" she asked.

"No."

Penny laughed. She didn't need to go through the step of gender preference
or sexual orientation. She imagined all the time she wasted with Joe. She
could skip all that now. Hypnosis was a c***d playing with matches. This
new power was a volcano.

"You are now bisexual."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

Penny laughed again.

"Jennifer, put the strap-on on. Autumn, help her. Teach her how to use it."

"Yes, Miss Penny," said both dolls in unison.

Penny crossed over to the men in the corner.

"You have cell phones with cameras?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"Take them out. Send a text with your name, social security number, bank
accounts, and deepest fears to this number." Penny gave them her
number. She felt her phone vibrate from their texts. "Jennifer is about to
fuck John. You will film it. You will mock him while he is fucked. You
think he is disgusting. Call him the worst names you can think of. Then
send the videos to this number. Then delete the texts, buy one hundred
dollars of merchandise from the store, leave, go home, and forget all about
this."

Penny wasn't sure if a complex series of tasks like that would work, but
she wouldn't know unless she tried. She didn't really need video evidence
of this. She didn't really care if they remembered it or not. She had
nothing to lose.

Penny went back to Jennifer, John, and Autumn. The huge pink strap-on was
attached to Jennifer's hips, and Autumn was showing her how to thrust. John
hadn't moved from his position, on his knees. Penny ignored the two women
and knelt in front of John.

"Jennifer is going to fuck you," she whispered.

"Yes, Miss Penny." John's face didn't change. He was a doll. He was
nothing.

"It will hurt," said Penny.

"Yes, Miss Penny."

She wondered if her power would make it so for him. It didn't matter. Penny
looked back at the strap-on. Pain was an inevitability. She smiled to
herself. Pain was power.

Power was pain.

"You will hate it," said Penny. "But you will beg women to hurt you, to
fuck you like this, every week. If you go a week without a woman fucking
you, you will beg men to do it." Penny paused, but her mouth opened again,
the words unbidden. "If you go a month without anyone fucking you, you will
go insane."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

Penny stepped away from John, surprised at herself. She didn't just want
him to go insane. If he went a month without being fucked, he should kill
himself. She knew it. Deep down, she knew that's what she should have
said. A cold shiver ran through her. This was too much. She had gone far,
probably too far, and yet she wanted to go further.

Before she realized what she was doing, Penny leaned in closer to John and
added, "You will always hate it. You will never get pleasure from sex
again, even when you are fucked by beautiful and powerful women."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

"Bend over. On all fours."

"Yes, Miss Penny."

Penny stepped away, her heart pounding. She looked to Jennifer and
Autumn. They were both ready.

"Jennifer, fuck John up the ass. Autumn, help her and coach her."

"Yes, Miss Penny," they said in unison.

Penny looked to the two customers. They approached with their phones out
already recording. Penny looked at the scene of chaos and debauchery. She
had done that. It was simple. It was easy and fun, but it wasn't
erotic. She wasn't wet. Nothing made her wet anymore.

Penny looked at the door, unable to watch what she had done. "When
you are done, Jennifer," she said without facing them. She heard the
slapping of skin on skin. She spoke over the homophobic insults from the
two customers. "When you are done, Jennifer," repeated Penny, "take John
home and run your household. You are in charge now. Everyone, Jennifer is
in charge."

"Yes, Miss Penny," sang the room, but Penny didn't care. She was already
out the door before their voices faded. She called Harold. He got a car for
her. She went straight to the airport. She needed to practice. She needed
to understand what she had and what she could do. Camille was right about
that.

But Penny couldn't do that here, not at home. She had been reckless. She
hadn't thought through the consequences of her actions. If she was going to
ruin lives by accident, she couldn't do it in the city where Nadia
lived. She had to be careful, to be ready, for Nadia.

********
Present Day
Harold slowly regained his posture. His face held the shock and the sleepy relief that came with male orgasm.
"Yes, Harold," said Penny. "Call Miss MacQuarrie. Have her see me at her nearest convenience."
*******************************************************************
7
The Rabbit Hole Chapter 7: Dolly
By Trixie Adara
Edited by Abby H.
Nadia
Nadia stood in front of the door, waiting for Bucky the Butler to
let her in. She bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to shake out all
the nervous energy.
She couldn't believe it when Penny finally called and asked to see
her immediately. She didn't waste any time calling out of work and claiming
to be sick. She was ready to do it for as many days as was necessary if
things went the right way.
"What way?" mumbled Nadia to herself. "There was no way for things
to go."
For the past two hours, Nadia had flipped back and forth from wild
and inappropriate hope to crushing despair and cynicism. She told herself
this was probably a business call, a check up, nothing more. She told
herself that Penny missed her and wanted to see her desperately. She told
herself this would be another awkward failed hypnosis session. She wore
some skimpy lingerie underneath her royal blue jumper just in case.
Nadia wasn't sure what "just in case" meant. She knew Penny was
gay, but that didn't mean she was. The last time a girl made a move on her,
she freaked out afterwards. She'd spent weeks feeling guilty and ashamed
and strange after Joanna, but she couldn't ignore that she it felt
nice. She couldn't ignore that she came. She couldn't ignore anything
anymore. All she had was time, and time meant hours obsessing and
over-analyzing and fantasizing and touching and ... yeah.
Needless to say, it was an answer to prayer when Penny called. Time
with Penny would at least bring answers, even if those answers were
disappointing. Maybe Penny can't trance Nadia. Maybe that little tug, that
tiny moment, that happened last time was a coincidence. It was both wishful
thinking and a placebo effect. Either way, answers were way better than
sitting in your apartment with nothing but an overactive imagination. The
door swung open to reveal Bucky. "Miss MacQuarrie," he said in his dry
voice. "I was expected?" said Nadia. "Indeed. May I take your coat?"
"Sure thing." Nadia stepped past Bucky and shrugged off her coat before
handing it to him. She walked past him and into the main part of the
penthouse, the living room/kitchen/dining combination room. The open floor
plan was huge. Nadia never got used to the excess of this place. She heard
the door close and turned around. Bucky had stepped out of the penthouse
and closed the door behind him. "Uh ... what?" asked Nadia to no one. "I
asked Harold to give us some privacy," said Penny as she walked out of her
office and into the kitchen. Nadia turned back around. Her breath caught.
Penny looked incredible. Better than incredible. She wore a white pantsuit
with a light blue blouse beneath her blazer. She had light blue heels to
match. Her hair was up in a loose bun, with tiny strategic hairs dangling
over her ears. But it wasn't in her clothing or face. It was in her
posture. She stood up straight, as Penny normally did, but it wasn't
forced. It didn't look like she had a stick up her butt. She was relaxed
but confident. She was composed and totally in control. There wasn't a
desperation or anger to her. "Penny!" shouted Nadia. She ran to give the
hypnotist a hug, then stopped herself. Penny still didn't want anyone
touching her without her permission, and she stiffened as Nadia approached
with arms spread wide.
"Hello, Nadia," said Penny. The discomfort faded from her
face. "It's good to see you."
"It's good to see you," sighed Nadia. "Where have you been?"
"I've been conducting research trying to develop a new technique
for hypnosis." Penny smirked.
"You think you can trance me?" Nadia's heart beat faster. "Did you
find something? You think it will work?"
"I did," said Penny. "I do."
"Is that why you called me?"
"Precisely. Do you have time to spend on an extended session?"
"Should I call out of work tomorrow? I can. I prepared sub plans
and -"
"It shouldn't take that long," interrupted Penny with a wave of her
hand. Her voice was calm, pleasant. She was amused by Nadia's eagerness,
not annoyed. "A few hours I suspect."
"Right now?"
"Yes." It took everything in Nadia not to jump up and down, spin,
and clap her hands all at once.
Penny's smile widened "Ready?" she asked.
"More than anything in the entire world," said Nadia.
"Then sit," said Penny. The air around them seemed to shake. It was
like a bass note, something deep that shuddered the air entirely.
Nadia felt her body move before her mind could. Her mind felt
sluggish. It knew what Penny said, but it didn't seem to understand as well
as the body did. The mind was still trying to figure out what Penny meant
by `sit' as though it were wading through molasses. Penny's body didn't
hesitate. It sat immediately on the floor, cross legged, like a
kindergartener.
Penny clapped her hands and laughed. Her laugh was light and pure,
like a c***d seeing their first magic trick or waking up on Christmas
morning. She twirled around, planted her feet, and fist pumped in victory.
Nadia saw all that--at least her eyes did--but her mind was still
working on the question about the sit command. It was behind
everything. Penny calmed herself, got still, cleared her throat, and
smoothed out her pants.
"Now, silly, there's no reason to sit on the ground. Go sit in the
living room."
Nadia's body moved as Nadia was beginning to wonder why Penny was
so excited. Nadia wasn't in trance. This still wasn't trance. Nadia's body
obeyed, but her mind was trying to sort things out. It was numb. It was
slow, but it wasn't off.
Nadia sat down in the nearest chair in the living room. Penny
clicked her tongue in disapproval.
"Not that one. Move to another seat."
Nadia did. Penny had her move again. Nadia's body obeyed. Nadia's
body moved seats s*******n more times while her body was still trying to
figure out why Penny was so happy. Why was she clapping? What was she
celebrating?
"Now, stand," commanded Penny.
Nadia's body obeyed. A part of her mind that would start to think
on this in about ten minutes would wonder why this doesn't bother her. She
should be so bothered by her body moving without her permission, but her
mind couldn't keep up with it. It couldn't worry while it could barely
move.
"Clap your hands," obeyed Penny.
Nadia obeyed.
"Let's push a little," said Penny to herself. "Take off your top."
Nadia's body shrugged her arms through the sleeves of her jumpsuit
and peeled the top down, exposing her lingerie. She was wearing a corset
with a black lace fringe that barely covered Nadia's tiny tits.
Penny smirked to herself. "Oh, Nadia has been a bad girl," she
said. "Have you enjoyed your time with Joanna?"
"Yes," said Nadia's body. Her mind would have blushed. Her mind
would burn with shame, but her mind was miles behind her body. Her mind was
still by the door, wondering why she was sitting on the floor.
"Why are you wearing that?" asked Penny.
"For you."
"Why me? Are you a lesbian?"
"No."
"Good," said Penny. Her smile widened. "It wouldn't be any fun if
there wasn't something to change."
"What do you want?" asked Penny. She circled around Nadia, admiring
the young woman's body. Nadia was always thin--too thin--for the sensual
curves in lingerie ads. She was cute. She was perky. She was girlish. She
was waifish. Nonetheless, Penny admired her body. Penny inspected each
speck of Nadia, looking for something, something Nadia couldn't understand.
"To be blank," said Nadia. "To be in trance."
"This isn't good enough?" asked Penny. She was genuinely intrigued.
"Not blank," said Nadia. Her voice was vacant and empty. She was
far away from this moment. She was far away from her body. Her
consciousness was sitting and standing s*******n times while her
subconscious was speaking her deepest desires and her body obeyed.
"Go blank," commanded Penny.
The lights went out in Nadia's mind. She could still see. Her
senses were aware and working to help her process the world. She could feel
the floor supporting her. She could feel the cool air moving over her
skin. She could feel, but she could not regard it with interest or
apathy. She was incapable of either. Her mind processed her senses, but her
senses led. She could watch them float by like floating down a river. She
was not caught up in them like normal. Her mind was indifferent to the
sensations.
Traditionally, Nadia's mind was a noisy place. She was excitable,
eager, passionate, nervous, scared, insecure, panicky, curious, and
self-conscious. Never before in her life had she been able to feel a thing
without immediately analyzing it. She would ask if she should feel it or
why she feels it or if she wants to keep feeling it. She would ask if
others could tell and what would they think and did they make her feel this
way intentionally. She would ask ten thousand questions and none of them
helped. No amount of answers calmed her mind.
In the end, it was Penny that calmed the storm. Nadia's mind had
walked out of a hurricane and into a silent and snowy morning. Everything
was clear and bright. Everything was simple and sharp.
Nadia's body smiled.
"Follow," commanded Penny.
Nadia's body followed Penny. They rounded the corner and instead of
turning right into Penny's office, they turned left. They walked past one
door and came to a door at the right, at the end of the hallway. There,
Penny opened the door and walked into her bedroom. Nadia's body followed.
Penny's bedroom was clean. It had grey walls and a white
ceiling. Her bed had light grey sheets with black pillows. The color palate
was muted and simple. There was nothing bright or festive. It was
sterile. Nadia would have disapproved. Nadia's body didn't care. Nadia's
body only saw the bed and stirred Nadia's groin.
Nadia, were she there, would want to thank Penny. She would want to
fall on her knees and worship Penny for giving her the one thing she'd
wanted in life. She would kiss Penny's feet. She would do whatever Penny
wanted. Penny didn't need these powers. Nadia would helplessly follow
her. She was devoted. She called Penny everyday for months. She dreamt of
Penny. She wrote about Penny in her journals. She masturbated thinking of
Penny. She wanted to kiss her, hold her, and adore her.
But what Nadia wanted didn't matter anymore. Nadia would speak when
Penny told her to. Nadia would say what Penny told her to say. She would do
whatever Penny wanted, no more.
"Hmmm," said Penny as she walked into the bedroom. Penny walked
around the bed, pacing, almost as if teasing the bed. Or perhaps Nadia, But
Nadia's couldn't be teased. Only Nadia's body could be teased, and it
was. It kept its eyes on the bed. It felt the air move over its exposed
skin. It felt the lace and corset hug its body.
"What should I do with you?" asked Penny. "I'm forced to admit that
I wasn't entirely convinced this would work. I didn't dare plan about what
I would do if I could bring you under. Now you're there. Your mind is a
playground for me. I could do anything I wanted with you. For example,"
Penny sat on the edge of the bed and cross her legs, "take off your
jumpsuit."
Nadia's body obeyed. She peeled down her top and the pants,
exposing the black garter belt, stockings, and no panties. She kicked off
her flats. Nadia would have covered herself. She would have hidden behind
her arms. Nadia was gone. Nadia's body stood relaxed, bare, and
thoughtless.
"Such a slut," said Penny. "I have to be careful now, you know. A
comment like that could make you a slut. A simple confirmation of a belief
can make it reality. Hyperbole can be reached. For example, if I teasingly
say that `you never wear panties,' now you won't. Ever. An observation
becomes an irreversible reality."
The new thought floated down the river of Nadia's mind and lodged
itself on the shore. It became the shore. Nadia doesn't wear panties. Not
ever. She did in the past, but that was strange. That was out of
character. It's best if she never does that ever again. She won't. It can't
happen.
"I wonder if I'm the most powerful woman in the world, now," mused
Penny. "I sincerely wonder if anyone can stop me. Would Reyna obey my
commands? You know, I had the pleasure of watching her cast her spell over
someone once. It's slow. It's careful. It's so much more a seduction than
what I can do. The same is true for Camille. They compel people to obey, to
change. I force them. My power is instant and overwhelming. You feel it,
don't you? You feel that there is no choice. It is automatic. Once you were
Nadia, and now you are my plaything. It's as simple as that."
Penny seemed bothered by Nadia's lack of response. Nadia's body
wouldn't speak without a command to do so.
"Oh, come here and get on your knees before a goddess," commanded
Penny.
Nadia's body obeyed. It felt the tug of strings that were Penny's
words. The words lifted Nadia's feet, raised her thigh to bend, tilted her
weight forward, and Nadia's body walked. It walked, but it was the string
of Penny's words that moved her. Without the words, Nadia was empty, a
husk. Nadia's body stood before Penny, and then lowered itself to its
knees. It knelt before Penny, and she seemed to approve.
"I could do worse to you than you could imagine," said Penny. "I've
found that my effects are permanent unless I reverse them. Sure, you living
without panties sounds hot, but then imagine how cold it gets? Imagine
being on your period? Imagine a boyfriend asking why you don't own any? And
that was a simple one. That was nothing. It was almost by accident. Imagine
what I could do with purpose. With intentionality."
Penny's smile widened. "Speaking of boyfriend, did you ever find
out what happened to little old Joe? That long lost boyfriend of yours?"
"No," said Nadia's body.
"You know Joanna, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, there you go. That's young Joseph. He's trapped, deep inside
that bimbo's body is little Joe. He watches everything she does, but he
can't stop her. Just as you're trapped in your body right now, so is
he. But I've set his body on a self-destructive path of debauchery and
whoredom. I know she's told you she's a lesbian, and she is, but I've
helped Joe learn his way around a cock. Many cocks. The most he can do at
once is three, but we're working on it. There's room to grow."
Nadia's body sat placid, listening to Penny but not
reacting. Nadia's body didn't care, though Nadia herself would certainly
have been repulsed. Nadia would almost vomit knowing that Penny changed
Joe's body, mind, and sexuality permanently over some slight resistance at
a hypnotist show. Joe did almost nothing wrong, and Penny gave him
embarrassingly huge tits. Joanna has severe back pain from those tits, and
that was Penny's punishment.
"Awful, isn't it?" said Penny.
Nadia's body said nothing.
"People shouldn't cross me," sighed Penny. "Furthermore, he was a
bully. I know he was. He told me everything. He hit you, didn't he?"
"Yes," said Nadia's body.
"And you had only been on a few dates. You would cringe to hear
what he'd done to other women. I imagine I could have pressed charges for
that party in college, but that wouldn't be enough. He'd get a slap on the
wrist, but then he'd go back out in the world and do it again. He'd never
learned, so I had to take away his ability to hurt people. He'll never do
it again. Joanna is only capable of helping people. She helps, and she
serves. That is her purpose."
Nadia's body said nothing.
A wicked smile crossed Penny's face. "But you like it," she
commanded, and it was true. "You've been obsessed with hypnosis. You find
it so hot that I turned him into what he hates. I made him what he
hurts. You like his punishment. You think it's fitting. It turns you on."
Nadia's body warmed. Her pussy flooded with lust. Yes, it turned
her on. Men getting what they deserved, becoming eager bimbo sluts, that's
exactly what she liked. She loved to see Penny corrupt and twist them. She
loved knowing her boyfriend is now everything he hated, everything he took
advantage of. Goddess, that was so hot.
Nadia's body let out a quiet moan.
Penny giggled and stood. She went to the nightstand next to her
bed, opened the drawer, and took out a scrapbook. She sat down in front of
Nadia's body and tilted it up, showing it to her while she turned the page,
as if reading a book to a c***d.
"Here," she said as she turned the page, "are all my conquests."
Each page was dedicated to a man. It was filled with before pictures and
after pictures. The before pictures were all men that looked like assholes
like Joe. They were indignant, tough, rude, heavy, bald, or tattooed. They
were awful. The after pictures were all wonderful bimbo sluts. Not all of
them were pretty. Some looked like overweight drag queens. But all of them
were transformed. All of them had pictures of them in lingerie, t dressed
in formal wear, on their knees sucking cock, being fucked up the ass, and
living out a life of debauchery.
Nadia's body warmed everywhere. Her skin went flush from her
thighs, to her face, to her arms. She was hungry with desire. This was the
hottest thing she'd ever seen. This is what Penny did? It was beautiful. It
was powerful. It was erotic. It was just. Yes, more than anything, it was
just. The world needed Penny.
"You like," commanded Penny, and Nadia's body loved what she
saw. "But all of this was before I found these new powers. Imagine what I
could do now. I could turn them with a word. I won't need months of
reprogramming. I could get a doctor to perform the surgery for free, with a
word. I can push as hard as I want, and no one would stop me."
"I'm not limited to body behaviors. Personality? Preference? There
is so much to play with in a human mind. For example, you hate Joe."
Nadia's body clenched her fist. She remembered the first time he
hit her. She remembered each time he apologized and said it wouldn't happen
again. He didn't get the second chance. That piece of shit was taken by
Penny. Penny saved Nadia from him. She saved Nadia and gave Joe what he
deserved, that motherfucker.
"Good girl," cooed Penny. "Very good girl. Are you comfortable on
your knees?"
"No," said Nadia's body.
"Good. Stay there. I'm going to ask you a few questions."
"Yes, Penny."
"Oh none of that. People repeat me enough during my day job. I
won't have it from you." Penny uncrossed her legs and moved closer to the
edge of the bed. Nadia's head was between Penny's knees, but not close
enough to lick Penny's crotch. Not yet.
"I have some questions for you. Look me in the eyes while I'm
talking," snapped Penny.
Nadia's body obeyed, tilting the neck up to watch Penny's eyes
closely.
"Why can't you be tranced?" asked Penny.
"I don't know."
"Oh, sure you do. What is it about you that I couldn't get
through?"
"I don't know. If I knew, I would tell you. I want to be tranced."
"What do your parents do?" asked Nadia.
"My father is a pastor. My mother is his wife."
Penny smiled. "Do they know about your hobbies?"
"No."
"Should I make you tell them?"
"Please, no," whined Nadia.
Penny's smile faded. "Go blank."
Nadia was gone. There was only Nadia's body.
"What is the worst thing you've ever done?" asked Penny. Her voice
was sharp, angry.
"I convinced a girl that her crush would like her if she gained
weight because he liked curvy girls. She gained thirty pounds. He told her
she was fat."
"What is your deepest fear?"
"Failing my family," said Nadia's body. The tone was gone from her
voice. Nadia's body knew the fear well. It made her panic when she thought
she would be exposed, when she thought she wouldn't measure up. It did
everything it could to keep her focused and on track.
"You will fail them," said Penny.
For a moment, a brief moment, Nadia returned to her body. She
wanted to protest. She wanted to panic, but the airwaves around them seemed
to ripple and vibrate again. It was a command. Nadia would fail them. She
would not live up to the expectations or hopes of her parents.
As the new part of her identity, being a failure to her parents,
settled in, Nadia relaxed. She had spent so long being afraid of that, but
it was over now. She was a hypno slut. She was a doll. She fucked
Joanna. She spent most of her free time trying to be in trance or
masturbating. She was a failure. She didn't have to worry anymore.
Nadia relaxed and fell silent. She went back into the background,
went back to being blank. Nadia's body took over. The silence and
nothingness took over.
"What is your deepest, darkest, erotic fantasy?" asked Penny.
"To be a mindless doll, a fucktoy to be used and played with," said
Nadia's body quickly.
Penny laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh, it's perfect!" Penny
swung one leg over Nadia's head, and stood up, heading over to her
nightstand. "The girl who can't go into trance wants to be mindless more
than anything?"
"Yes," said Nadia's body.
"But you can be mindless now," said Penny. "In fact, with a simple
command, I could remove a mind from you forever. It wouldn't be a
trance. You would be braindead, controlled only by me, by my words." As
Penny spoke, her breath became heavier, huskier. "You would be like a
trophy," she whispered.
Penny turned around and came back to Nadia's body.
"You will be my toy," she said. "You are my toy." Nadia's body
accepted the command. It warmed at the idea, heating up with lust and
desire.
"Your name is Dolly. Whenever I call you Dolly, you will go blank
and be my toy. Otherwise, you will be Nadia. Commands given to Dolly do not
apply to Nadia. Is that clear?"
"Yes." Nadia's mind split in two seamlessly. Nadia went to sleep,
and for her, Dolly was like a dream person. Dolly was Nadia's body without
Nadia. Dolly was blank. She needed the strings of Penny's words to
move. Dolly was for Penny to play with. She needed no preference except
arousal, and whatever Penny did aroused her. Whatever Penny wanted aroused
her.
"Mmm, yes," said Penny. She bit her lip and sat on the edge of the
bed. "I like. This, I like."
Dolly did not smile. It would not smile without the strings moving
her. "Strip Dolly." Dolly obeyed. She immediately started to strip,
though doing so without standing was difficult. She could not stand. She
did not have permission to stand. The strings had lifted her to her feet.
Penny rolled her eyes and sighed. "Stand." Dolly stood. "You can't do it
without me saying so?" "No." "If you are stuck like that, you have
permission to ask. You can ask to make it more convenient," said Penny.
"What is convenient?" asked Dolly. "Mmmm," purred Penny. "Yum." Penny took
off her jacket, folded it, and put it on the bed. "You like being a doll."
Dolly became more aroused. Dolly needed no help. Nadia had already been
there. She was aroused to see Penny. She was aroused to be controlled. She
was aroused to be made blank. She was aroused to become Dolly. Penny would
not know how turned on Dolly was already because she did not ask. Penny
stepped out of her heels and put them in the closet. Dolly did not watch
closely, she had not been told to watch. Penny peeled down her pants and
carefully placed them on the bed. She took off her panties and put them in
the hamper. They were damp. Penny sat back on the edge of the bed and
spread her legs. "You love licking pussy," said Penny. Dolly did. "Lick
my pussy. Serve me." Dolly knelt down in front of Penny and obeyed. She
put one hand on each of Penny's thighs and pressed her face against Penny's
pussy. She did not hesitate. She was not afraid. Later, as Nadia recounted
this, she would shiver with shame and lust. Nadia wasn't a lesbian, but
Dolly had no gender. Dolly had no preference. Dolly was a toy. She was
Penny's vibrator if Penny wanted it. She was Penny's fleshlight if Penny
wanted it. She was a hole, a mouth, a tongue. She was arms and a pussy. She
was an ass and tits. She was skin and blood. She was nails and bone. She
was hair and nipples. But she wasn't a person. Not anymore. "Oh yes,"
said Penny as Dolly took her first licks. Dolly wasn't gentle. She wasn't
reserved. There was nothing to be afraid of, no social custom to bend
to. Dolly wasn't turned on to do it. She wasn't turned off to do it. For
Dolly, the arousal was in being controlled. Penny could tell her to wash
the dishes, and she would get wet. She could tell her to break her own
hand, and it would turn her on. To be owned was to be loved. To be
controlled was to be aroused. "Oh fuck," sighed Penny. She tilted her
torso back and her hips forward, pressing her soaked pussy further against
Dolly's face and mouth. "More," moaned Penny. "Give me more." The strings
pulled Dolly's tongue as deep as she could go. She ignored the clit, and
tried to get her tongue as deep as she could into Penny's pussy. Penny
started grinding her hips against Dolly's mouth, and Dolly kept her tongue
out, rigid, and deep. Penny rode Dolly's tongue like a dildo, and Dolly was
a dildo. "Fuck," said Penny. "Holy shit." Penny reached behind her head
and undid her bun. Her hair cascaded over shoulders in tiny waves. She
shook it out and pressed her hips deeper against Dolly's mouth. She leaned
back on her arms and used them to push herself harder and harder against
Dolly's mouth. She lifted one hand and undid the buttons on her blouse. She
was wearing a white lace bra. With the free hand, she reached around and
unclasped her bra. "Take it off," she commanded. "Take off my fucking
bra." Dolly kept her tongue deep in Penny's mouth. She reached up and
helped slide Penny's bra off her body. "Play with my nipples," she
commanded. Dolly obeyed, using her hands to tease and flick Penny's
nipples. "Fucking twist them," commanded Penny. Dolly obeyed. She gripped
them tightly and twisted. As she did, Penny's hips raised high, her whole
body spasmed with pleasure. "Get me off, bitch. Make me cum." Dolly
obeyed. She twisted the nipples hard. She obeyed perfectly. She gave Penny
exactly what she wanted. She pressed her tongue hard against Penny's clit
and flicked the tip. Nadia didn't know this maneuver, but Dolly did. Dolly
could do anything commanded of her. Dolly brought one hand off of Penny's
nipple and used it to pump in and out of Penny's pussy with two fingers. At
this, Penny started moaning loudly. She grunted with each pump of Dolly's
fingers. Her stomach and back spasmed, but Dolly didn't stop. She wasn't
commanded to make her feel good. She was commanded to make her cum. Penny
would cum. Penny's body went rigid. She held tight and smacked Dolly's
hand away from her nipple. "Stop," she commanded, and Dolly obeyed.
Penny lay there on the bed, half naked and breathing hard for
several minutes. Dolly waited on her knees, waiting for another command,
but Penny kept breathing. Eventually, she got up, rolled off the bed, and
grabbed her pants and jacket. She hung them up in her closet and then went
into the bathroom.
Dolly heard crying from the bathroom, but she didn't move. Nadia
would have moved had she been there. She would have asked what was
wrong. She would have worried, but Dolly had no worries. Dolly would wait
for Penny to come back. Either Penny would give her more commands, or Penny
would send Dolly away and bring Nadia back. All of it was up to Penny.
The shower came on, and Dolly waited. Time passed. Dolly didn't
mind. She couldn't mind. An hour later, Penny came out of the shower in a
bathrobe. She was surprised to see Dolly still there, on her knees, waiting
for the strings to pull her.
"You're still here?" she asked.
"Yes," said Dolly.
"I guess I ... forgot ..." Penny rocked back and forth on her heels
nervously. "Sorry."
Dolly didn't reply. She was not asked to.
"Do you need to go?" asked Penny.
"No," said Dolly.
"Can you .. um ... stay with me a bit?"
"Yes," said Dolly.
"Get on the bed," said Penny.
Dolly obeyed. She climbed up on the bed. Her legs were stiff. The
knees were sore, bruised, and the skin was cracked in some places. She sat
with her feet to one side and crossed. She looked back at Penny eagerly,
waiting for another command. She was still wet. Even waiting by the bed was
being controlled by Penny. As long as she was under Penny's control, she
would be wet.
"Lay down," said Penny.
Dolly obeyed.
"Get comfortable."
Dolly relaxed and found a more natural position. Penny crawled on
top of the bed and laid down next to Dolly.
"Hold me," said Penny.
Dolly obeyed. She wrapped her arms around Penny. Penny turned to
one side, becoming the little spoon, and Dolly became the big spoon. She
kept both arms wrapped around Penny, and pressed her legs up against the
back of Penny's own.
Penny lay there in silence for a long time, and Dolly held
her. There were no commands but the one, and Dolly obeyed. Dolly was wet
when Dolly obeyed.
"Did you like that?" asked Penny.
"Yes."
"Was it good?"
"Yes."
"Good. Good," said Penny. "Stay the night, okay?"
"Okay," said Dolly.
They laid like that for hours. Occasionally, Penny would
cry. Sometimes it was a soft shudder or shaking, and other times it picked
up to more violent sobs. Dolly never let her go. She was told to hold
Penny, and she did.
She didn't stop even when Penny fell asleep and her power left
Nadia's body. Nadia returned, and Dolly went to sleep, and still she didn't
let Penny go. Nadia didn't let go.

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