"It's not going to work this time," I pronounce boldly, before Vanessa even has a chance to open her mouth. "I, I know you think you can just, just snap your fingers and make me do whatever you want, but that was before I found out what you were doing to me. Now that I know, I'm going to fight it and you're not going to be able to get inside my head the way you--" I cut myself off, blushing at the memory of the last time I was in this office and the way I wound up on my knees in front of my former professor, begging to be allowed to lick her creamy pussy until my cheeks were smeared with her musk. "Like last time," I finish weakly, knowing it's blunting my momentum but determined to press on.

Whatever I was expecting to see on Vanessa's face at the end of my speech, I'm not getting it. She has a delighted smile on her face, like she's watching a very small child perform a card trick they've practiced for hours and she's trying hard not to let on that she's spotted the ace hidden up their sleeve. "It's so nice to see you again, Betsy," she coos, using the same inexorably soothing tones I remember from so many 'independent study sessions'. "And so punctual, too. Please, sit down, scoop out your tits and start playing with them. Tell me what's on your mind."

I hear myself exhaling a little more heavily, the wave of arousal I feel on being... fuck, there's no other word for it, commanded... sinking in at the very base of my resolve and making it tremble ever so slightly. But I'm expecting it this time, I'm on my guard and I know that Vanessa's trying to use it to mess with my mind and weaken my resistance so I end up once again sinking into glassy-eyed waking slumber while she programs me even deeper into surrender to her will. It won't work if I know what's happening, and I want her to know that so I sit down in the chair just like she offered and say, "I'm not obeying you anymore."

I can immediately tell that my defiance only amuses her. Vanessa's eyes glitter darkly with excitement, drinking in the spectacle of my proudly jutting chin and fierce blush like I'm a fine wine she wants to savor. "Of course you're not, darling! You just happened to decide to come back to my office at the exact time I instructed you to at the end of our last session, and you just happened to sit down in that chair right after I told you to. And I'm sure it's just coincidence that you're pawing at your chest right now."

I can't lie, my blood goes a little cold when I look down and realize I've yanked the stretchy collar of my low-cut t-shirt down under my breasts to gather and expose them in a lewd display of submissive exhibitionism. And even though I have the kind of boobs that generally require an almost religious commitment to industrial-strength brassiere technology, I apparently decided to come to my old professor's office with nothing but a thin sheet of fabric between my tits and the whole wide world... and one that's been washed so many times it's practically see-through, at that. But that's not what makes me squeak out, "Um. I--I don't remember doing that."

It's my fingers, pinching and tugging and squeezing my long stiff nipples until they stand straight out and tingle with relentless arousal. I know I never intended that.

I pull my hands away as if they've been burned, and awkwardly tuck my boobs back into my shirt while trying not to break eye contact with Vanessa lest she get the idea I've been humbled by my momentary slip. It's pretty clear she's developing that belief anyway, as she playfully chuckles at my clumsy efforts, and I feel a sting of wounded pride when she replies, "Of course you don't! And you won't remember the next time, either. Because your will is subject to my control, and I've decided you don't need to." God, I wish that didn't make my pussy leak. I wish I wasn't so turned on by being hypnotized and brainwashed. I wish she couldn't use that to make me vulnerable.

She can't, I tell myself, fixing her with an even more determined stare. Not when I'm on guard like this. "That was the old me," I insist, putting my hands firmly on my knees to make sure they don't get any clever ideas about following the suggestion Vanessa probably doesn't think I've spotted. "I, I didn't remember what you were doing to me before, and that let you... let you sneak ideas into my head while I wasn't paying attention. But all that's over now. I'm aware of what you're doing and you can't control me that easily again."

The peal of laughter Vanessa lets out isn't exactly encouraging. Neither is the lingering arousal that saps my speech of its strength and forces fumbling pauses where I never intended them and makes me sound more petulant than determined. "Oh, sweetie, is that really what you think is happening here? Tell me, darling girl, exactly how did you discover that I was brainwashing you into becoming my personal lesbian sex slave, hmm? Can you remember where and when and how you came to that particular conclusion? Or did it just pop into your head, like the decision to come here and confront me when you could just as easily have avoided me now that you're not taking any of my classes?"

I don't like the way my brain momentarily seizes up in confusion when I hear that question. I especially don't like the way my cunt throbs warmly in the sudden mental silence, associating the fog in my head with a kind of soft, mellow pleasure that makes it easier and easier to coast along in that same state of vacant indolence without ever really trying to kick my brain into gear again. "I... you must have forgotten to, um, to erase my memory," I mutter weakly, knowing all too well that 'must have' is one of those phrases that elides a whole host of rationalizations and equivocations that in turn cover up the deep hypnotic compulsions that truly decided my course of action.

Fuck. That's so much hotter than it should be. "I think we both know that's not what you really believe," Vanessa purrs, her voice dripping into my mind like warm honey. "I think you know the real reason you remember--because I let you. Because I wanted you to know you're being hypnotized and brainwashed, more and more every time you return to me the way you've been programmed to do, so that you can begin to accept the notion that you're truly helpless. There's nothing you can do to resist. Your will is simply weaker than mine, and all your efforts to fight me only serve to remind you that you fail. Inevitably. Perpetually. Eternally."

She smirks. I feel another twinge of heat between my legs. "You're playing with your tits again, dearie," she adds, and even before I look down I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because I know she's right.

Only I don't look down, and that sense of numb, despairing dread only intensifies as I find myself wondering just how long I've been staring vacantly into Vanessa's mesmerizing eyes and convincing myself I've been meeting her gaze with a challenging, defiant glare. It finally hits me just how overconfident I was in coming here, and how important it is to leave now before Vanessa ensnares me again and I lose even more of myself to her inexorable brainwashing... but I can't seem to stand up. My body feels too heavy to move, the effort too exhausting even to contemplate, and it's all I can do to tuck my breasts back into my shirt and let my hands fall to my sides.

"See what I mean, sweetie?" Vanessa coos, her voice poisonously sympathetic. "You can't hope to fight me. You're just too weak, your mind is too malleable. Even when you think you're resisting, it's really just my programming again, tricking you into believing you have free will when you're really more obedient than ever. Be honest, you didn't really come here this afternoon to tell me you were too strong to be hypnotized anymore, did you?"

I wish I could say it didn't make me incredibly wet to hear myself droning vacantly, "No, ma'am. I came hear to reinforce my programming. So I could be even more owned and obedient." But there's a very specific sense memory that comes with getting so turned on that your panties cling to your pussy lips, and I can't help noticing it right now. Vanessa's getting inside my head. Again. She's making me crave my own subjugation. Again. And even though I know I won't remember all of this session, I'll remember just enough to know how easily she defeated my feeble attempts to resist.

"That's my good girl," Vanessa sighs contentedly, her gaze dipping just enough to make me suspect I'm playing with my tits again. I honestly don't know if I am; my mind has dissociated so completely from my body that the pulses of warm, wet lust surging through me just seem like a natural consequence of accepting my surrender to Vanessa's will. But I hope I'm groping and squeezing and kneading the flesh of my big cow titties like a good girl, because that will please Vanessa and I really can't imagine anything more important right now.

Vanessa's skirt hikes up her thighs as she puts one foot up in her chair, and even though I can't look away from her captivating stare I'm suddenly and acutely aware of her wet pussy as she begins to masturbate to the spectacle of her personal slave's descent into subjugation. She always plays with herself like this, I remember. She always gets her cunt good and messy before she lets me lick it, and I'm so completely consumed by the desire this memory elicits that I barely even notice her intoning, "Tell me you're hypnotized."

But some part of me must know, because I hear myself utter, "I'm hypnotized," in a dazed and empty monotone that fully brings home my total submission to Vanessa's will. This is part of it too, I remember, far too late for that knowledge to do me any good. She makes me say these things because it deepens and reinforces my conditioning, because the sound of my own blanked-out voice always convinces me that I truly have slipped away into obedience and I can't escape. I believe her, but it's nothing compared to the way I believe myself.

"Tell me you're brainwashed." God, it's such a firm tone of command in her voice now, all the playfulness and teasing gone to expose the raw power of her will, and it makes me so wet to hear it. I can't wait to be allowed to hump her leg while I play with my tits and finally cum for her, and I know she's going to have no trouble getting me to agree to anything when I'm slick and desperate like this.

"I'm brainwashed," I recite, the words scrawling themselves into my brain like chalk on a blackboard. My nipples tingle, and I don't know why.

"Tell me you can never resist me." My eyes unfocus completely now, still locked onto Vanessa's captivating stare but no longer really seeing anything anymore, and I know my brain is giving up that last little ghost of thought. I'm sinking into the true depths of hypnosis now, my thoughts so thoroughly suppressed by trance that even the basic narrative that allows me to form memories is going, and my last real memory is of welcoming that state of utter, blissful obedience.

Then I say, "I can never resist you," and I know that whatever defenses I thought I had against here were merely illusions. There is no guarding against Vanessa's power, and the sheer delight I feel on realizing that inescapable truth is enough to drop me into mindless surrender to her will.

THE END