"Nnh!" The audible grunt of arousal she let out on seeing the small pacifier in Nylah's hand astonished and embarrassed Cory in equal measures--it wasn't just the infantilizing connotations of her roommate's offer, although that was mortifying enough by itself, it was the way her cunt viscerally and tangibly pulsed in an eruption of hot, wet lust that left her head swimming with the desire to close her lips around the rubber nipple and suck. She could picture it all there in her head, right in that instant, from the tantalizing sensation of having her mouth blissfully filled to the warm, drowsy euphoria of slipping away into a helpless sucktrance, and all of it made her clit throb and her pussy drool with anticipation.

Nylah knew it, too, that was the worst part. There wasn't going to be any hiding this, any chance of playing it cool and pretending that she had way too much dignity to degrade herself by taking the proffered pacifier and sucking all her stress away in mindless, vacant bliss. Nylah heard that noise, she saw the way Cory's gaze fixated on the soft rubber nipple like it was hypnotizing her all by itself--she wasn't going to be fooled by any denials, and the condescending coo in her voice when she asked, "Does someone like being a sleepy baby for me, then?" only made Cory squirm in ever more helpless arousal.

Because it wasn't like she liked... that. She didn't have any kind of age regression fantasies, she didn't like thinking of herself as a little girl, and she kept her bright blue hair cut short and side-shaved precisely to avoid anyone getting the wrong idea about her just because she was four foot six and flat as a board. But something about the comforting way Nylah slipped the pacifier into her mouth whenever she hypnotized her, turning the sensation of sucking into its own kind of anchor that dragged her down into a realm of peace and pleasure where all the stresses of her classload simply evaporated--that, Cory wanted. Even the degradation of being patronized to the point of literal infantilization scratched some kind of itch in Cory's brain, although she'd probably need to talk to a therapist to figure out exactly why.

But just snatching the pacifier out of Nylah's warm brown fingers and popping it into her mouth felt like it would cede a little too much power to the woman she'd really only known for a little over a semester. It might give Nylah the idea that she could, well... manipulate Cory, just by giving her a paci and putting her into a trance and letting that stuporous sense of calm wash over her. She might even get the notion that she could just settle arguments between them by hypnotizing Cory into yet another sucktrance and why did that sound so fucking hot?

Cory didn't know. But it felt like a mistake to give into it. So she said, "Ah gah--" then stopped abruptly and forced her drooling lips to unlock from the position they'd instinctively assumed. "I'm, um, I'm good," she said again, this time a bit more intelligibly, then added a murmured, "Thank you, though," when it occurred to her that she was probably sounding snappish and rude and it didn't pay to antagonize the woman she shared an uncomfortably intimate dormitory space with.

She hated the way her treacherous brain immediately supplied the reason--if she pissed off Nylah now, she might not let Cory suck on the paci later when she really needed it.

But Nylah only smiled, seemingly unfazed and unruffled. "Suit yourself," she said dismissively, setting it down on the bed next to her where it remained in full view. "So you said you had Strunkmeyer today," she continued, acting as though she didn't notice Cory's gaze fixed unblinkingly on the soft rubber nipple. "How was your lab partner? Mister Mansplain still trying to tell you what a calorie is?" She chuckled, but the dull roar of frustration in the back of Cory's head made her want to absolutely lunge for the pacifier in a desperate attempt to drown it out.

But that would be the beginning of a very bad habit. "W-worse than ever," she stammered, wiping another tiny trickle of drool away from the corner of her mouth. "I swear, there's nothing worse than a tall dude when you're a short woman. No matter how capable you are, they still look at you and treat you like a, a, a...." Her brain locked up staring at the pacifier, stuck on the next word that came to mind and knowing that if she said it she'd open up the conversation to a further discussion of her recent desire to be reduced to nothing more than a suckling, thoughtless toy for her domineering roommate.

"A child," she finally finished, feeling on slightly firmer ground with that assertion. Because that was the thing she understood, even if she couldn't articulate it in any way that made sense out loud--she didn't want to be a baby, but she definitely wanted to be babied. Actual infantilization was a notion so humiliating and uncomfortably she squirmed away from even the slightest thought of it, but being patronized and condescended to and treated like a silly, stupid girl by another woman made her pussy so wet she just knew she was going to have a dark spot on her panties when she got undressed.

And she knew Nylah would see it. "Oh, for sure," the other woman agreed, the sly undertone of playful sadism in her voice highlighting her amusement with the direction she'd steered the conversation into. "Nothing like a guy to make a girl feel like she can't be trusted to think for herself, right, sweetie?" The patronizing nickname made Cory suck in her breath in another moment of intense, visceral arousal, but she thankfully managed to hold back an actual grunt of mindless lust. Barely. Something about being called condescending pet names in lieu of her real, given name always made Cory so horny her head swam.

It was even hotter to wonder whether Nylah knew that because Cory confessed it to her in one of their many hypnosis sessions, or because Nylah put the fetish into Cory's lust-drunk mind during one of their trances and Cory was just too weak and malleable to know anymore which thoughts were her own and which belonged to her roommate. A semester felt like too little time to gain this much of a hold over someone, but Cory couldn't deny the evidence of her own memories. Especially the ones Nylah had adjusted for her.

No, Cory knew she was rapidly losing her independence to Nylah, and she even understood why--she was on one of the most difficult academic tracks at one of the most challenging and rigorous schools in the nation, and going under for Nylah was a badly-needed release from the stress of heavy courseloads and sexist classmates and professors who couldn't see beyond her diminutive stature. When it all got to be too much it was nice to be able to just purse her lips around that rubber nub and diminish herself to pure, stupefied indolence for a while, and of course she associated that sweet sensation with Nylah. And everything that came with it. God, she was so fucking horny right now.

"Um, uh, r-right," Cory mumbled, uncomfortably aware that she'd been staring vacantly at the pacifier in thoughtless silence for almost a full minute, and worse that she'd soaked her thin t-shirt almost clean through with drool. She knew the response was hopelessly inadequate for carrying on any kind of conversation, she knew that she'd blatantly given away just how badly she needed to suck herself stupid for a little while and empty out all the stresses of her long, infuriating day, but it was so hard to keep her brain engaged with the promise of the pacifier right there in her line of sight and everything it promised along with it.

Nylah let out a snort of laughter. "Of course I'm right," she muttered, almost to herself. Then, aiming her words more directly at Cory, she purred, "I'm always right, aren't I, baby doll?" The words seemed to slip past Cory's mind without allowing her to get a grip on them, their warm and soothing tone reminding Cory of so many afternoons where she lay with her head in Nylah's lap and simply drifted the time away.

"You're always right," she sighed,the words escaping in a distracted monotone that seemed to come directly from the same well of unconscious relaxation that Nylah's speech disappeared into. She had to struggle to even realize she was saying them; they felt like they were simply floating in the air, an incontrovertible truth she couldn't argue with and didn't want to try. A lazy smile began to spread across her pale pink cheeks as her stare became glassy and unfocused, falling into the familiar sensation of trance without quite understanding it was happening.

"I'm right about everything, sweetie," Nylah intoned, her voice growing more and more difficult for Cory to differentiate from her increasingly muddled mental narrative. It just felt obvious to agree with Nylah; she always had such good ideas, and it was always such a relief when Cory stopped letting her own thoughts trip her up and did as she was told like a good girl. A good... girl. A good little girl with a warm, wet, empty mouth that needed filling. Cory heard herself grunting in deep, overwhelming arousal again, but it felt impossible to stop herself now.

"You're right about... everything," Cory slurred, her speech rendered loose and mumbly by her slack jaw and drooling lips. It vaguely occurred to her that she was making a mess of her favorite shirt again, and even more vaguely occurred to her that the smartest thing to do would be to take it off so she didn't get any more saliva on it. She wasn't sure if that was her own idea or just another one Nylah had slipped into her head over the last several months, but the tingling heat in her nipples persuaded her to go along with it anyway and soon she was topless and rubbing her small, pale breasts.

"You need to suck now," Nylah told her, and naturally there was no question of disagreement; Nylah was right about everything, after all, and if she told Cory it was time to put the paci in her mouth and suck all her cares away then it simply had to be true. Cory slid off her bed and onto her knees, her skirt slowly sliding down her hips as she crawled over to Nylah's side of the room and knelt patiently with her lips parted in anticipation and her fingers helplessly teasing her own nipples. It felt embarrassing to be so easily and completely defeated by her own desires like this, but that only made the throb in her cunt pulse that much harder and Cory understood that was in no small part what got her so wet to begin with.

Then the pacifier went in, and Cory stopped understanding much of anything anymore. Her mind became docile and tame, so completely subjugated by peace and pleasure that even the notion of resistance stopped occurring to her. She cheerfully spread her legs wider, showing off the dark stain on her lavender panties where her cunt had been leaking practically non-stop ever since she walked into the dorm room, and burbled in amiable agreement around the rubber nipple in her mouth when Nylah told her just how good it felt to struggle and fail against the dominant woman's deep hypnotic power. It wasn't anything Cory didn't already know, after all. She only ever fought because it was always so much better to be defeated than to surrender.

By the time Nylah let her clamber up onto the bed, Cory's panties were almost translucent with musk, and she was openly squirming and whimpering with the desire to be teased and rubbed by her hypnotic lover. She found herself sucking harder every time Nylah caressed her cunt through her panties, transmuting her urgent lust into oral fixation and cementing the association between sucking and sex ever more strongly as a result. Cory knew she was being trained, she knew her mind was becoming ever more helplessly subjugated to Nylah's will, but she also knew the other woman's touch was peace and love and comfort and she didn't concern herself with anything else.

Then Nylah's fingers slipped inside Cory's panties, sinking into a cunt slick as butter from almost an hour of ceaseless teasing, and Cory found to her delight that she couldn't think about anything but that.

THE END