Candy Pink Rosé

Chapter 3: Tasting

by MadamKistulot

Tags: #noncon #bimbofication #comic_book #D/s #f/f #humiliation #midas_city #business_lady #conditioning #dom:female #pov:bottom #sub:female
See spoiler tags : #telepathy

Candy Pink Rosé


Disclaimer: If you are under age, not a fan of lesbian mind control, or otherwise not permitted to read ahead, this is your warning. All of the women portrayed are of a legal age for such naughty endeavors, and the term ‘girl’ is not used to denote otherwise. Nonconsensual sex is unethical in real life, and any such examples within this fiction is not condoning or supporting such acts. The following work is copyright Madam Kistulot 2020, and not for reposting or other such uses.


Chapter 3: Tasting

“Kyra Patel. The finest sommelier in one of the most high-class, ritzy wine stores in Midas.” The quiet sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the large office, and inside of Kyra’s skull. It felt so empty in there, so blank. Every time that metal sound rang out the syrup coating Kyra’s brain rippled, making her quietly whimper and mewl as she strained to hold onto her fleeting consciousness.

The same parts of her that strained to think were the parts so quick to tug her back down into empty pink bliss.

“I see Pink was a bit… quick with you. I was hoping to hear your recommendations before your recruitment, but it seems that was too much to ask.” The woman’s voice sounded both annoyed and amused—possibly even amused at her own annoyance. “Can you hear me, or are you still too far gone? I do have other appointments, other places to be.”

“Mnnnnn… Heeeere… I’m… heeere…” Kyra called out, her whole body quivering from the raw effort it took to form words with her lips. They didn’t feel pink, but those metal reverberations, those powerful echoes made it so hard to focus long enough to give shape to words. She could probably babble like she had before without so much strain, but the woman speaking to her wasn’t Tiffany. It was unlikely she’d find it nearly as charming.

Where… am I…? Tiffany said she’d take care of everything, and I… She groaned, her hazel eyes fluttering as she tried to push herself up. She was melted over a desk, a fancy wooden desk, but she didn’t remember walking into the office.

Trying to remember made her quiver, and feel a giggle rise up from her throat. Her eyes crossed, and she quietly purred as she found herself nuzzling the smooth wooden surface. It was much easier than sitting up. Her mind felt like it was swimming through a thick swampy muck, only instead of being disgusting or uncomfortable, it was sugary and soothing. It was hard to find the force of will to struggle.

A black eyebrow raised over a dark blue eye as the woman on the other side of the desk looked down at her and slowly shook her head. “Of course you are, Kyra. So, why don’t I get a good look at your eyes…”

“Oka—oohhh…” Kyra quivered as she felt her chin grasped, and her head pulled smoothly up from the desk. The movement was so fluid, so gentle, but so irresistible. All she could do was go limp, giggling as she found herself staring up into those deep, dark blue eyes. Her lips trembled, and a quivering groan quietly escaped. “You’re… pretty… You look so… p-p-powerful… feel… so…”

“Tell me just how I feel to you, Kyra. Tell me just what looking at me makes you want to do…” A pale hand stopped the metal clacking balls that slammed together atop the woman’s desk as those blue eyes peered deeper into Kyra’s soul. “Tell me everything.”

“Mmm you feel… like… you want… you want me to… to mel… mmmm… melt…” The volume slowly drained from Kyra’s voice again as the metal balls began to clack anew. Each time they slammed together, the sound felt like it splashed more of that pink deeper inside of Kyra’s quivering, vulnerable brain. “Like you want everything to just… go quiet inside of my head… want me to listen and it feels… feels like you can… can make it happen…”

“I can.” The woman responded as though it were the simplest, most obvious truth in the world. “Do you know who I am, Kyra?”

She moaned, her eyes nearly crossing. The pretty hazel pools of her eyes were flecked with gray, the color almost wholly dominating her eyes. Kyra tried to shake her head, but moving her head made everything slosh, and she nearly lost herself in another void before a loud click sent her spiraling back into that hand, lost in her body and utterly unable to speak.

“You can call me ‘The Lady’. That’s the only name you need to have for me.” A pale fingertip slowly trailed along one of Kyra’s full lips as she let out a quiet groan. “Say it. Say that name, and tell me what you can do for me.”

“Th… L’dyyyyy…” Kyra groaned, her lips straining to move enough to properly enunciate the sounds. “’nything… ‘nything you want… nnn… want…”

The Lady smirked, pulling Kyra’s chin closer. The woman weakly groaned, somehow managing to half crawl up onto the desk even if her body felt so weak. When The Lady tried to pull her closer, when she wanted Kyra closer, her body found the strength to somehow make it happen.

A hand grasped at Kyra’s clothed breast, and she let out a low, tired groan as she arched her body into the touch. Her nipple stiffened under her top, the shape subtly puffier, fuller. “That’s right. You’ll give me anything I want… even the color of eyes I most want to see without even saying a word. Can you recommend a good vintage of wine that I would enjoy the most with your skin? I don’t tend to worry about that sort of thing, but that is one of your talents.”

“A-annyyythiiiing… I taste good with… a-any… o-o-ohhh… thing…!” The Lady squeezed tighter, and Kyra convulsed as the pleasure shot through her body. She wasn’t sure if it was from the touch, or the raw presence the other woman exuded as naturally as she spoke. “F-fuuck… c-can’t… can’t think… when you’re so… so… much…”

“Interesting. I’ll need Windy to confirm my suspicions, but I think I’ve figured out just what a little treasure I have here…” The Lady reached up, pulling away Kyra’s cravat with a single, firm tug. One by one, she began to pop open the buttons of her jacket with the fingers of a single hand. “You’re too soft, too weak to even think in my presence. That means that what you should do, is serve me. That means that you’re already accepting what your new purpose is, what your new reason for living is, aren’t you?”

Kyra’s eyes crossed anew as The Lady tipped her head back. She stood, blue eyes looking so intense as the final button of Kyra’s jacket fell open to expose the black shirt beneath. “T-to please you… to serve you… to make your life… e-e-easier… b-better… however… however I can… in any way I can… every way I can… ooohhhh…”

The Lady slowly nodded, pulling up Kyra’s top and her bra in one swift, smooth motion. Her breasts were a paler shade of golden-brown to the rest of her skin, but were still capped with dark brown nipples that screamed out so loudly for more touch, more sensation, more anything. Their wishes were soon granted as the Lady took her time pinching, and twisting both of them so agonizingly slow. Kyra’s eyes opened wide, her mouth stretching as a long, unrestrained moan shuddered from deep in her throat.

Her whole body quivered, from the top of her purple hair, down to the tips of her toes still trapped in her white heels. Softer moans and cries followed, making her sound just as lost to the powerful woman’s dominance as she looked. All she could do was pitifully arch into the pleasurable sensations. Her bare skin was so smooth, no hint of gooseflesh even as the cool air of the room teased along every curve.

All of Kyra looked so subtly idealized, just perfect enough without being impossible. Her voice even quivered in just the right way to make The Lady’s eyes faintly hood.

“Why don’t we test that?”
            “Mmmnnn y-yee—ohh…!” Kyra tried to agree, even clumsily nodding, but she found herself pulled forward, over The Lady’s desk. Metal balls slammed together with a resonant click, everything blanking out before it came back into focus with Kyra down on her knees. The Lady was lounging back in her chair, her smooth, sexy legs moving to hook around Kyra’s body. Nails slid through her scalp, grasping tight.

“Listen to the cradle click. Listen, and give me just what I want.” The Lady spoke in a voice that was low and smooth, but as firm as steel. There was no indecision, only certainty and command.

Kyra whimpered the closest sound she could make to a ‘yes’ as her hands reached up between The Lady’s legs to grasp her panties. The metal click resonated again, and her face was buried between those thighs, her tongue tracing along The Lady’s smooth slit.

She didn’t think about what to do. Her mind felt too wasted, too worthless to be relied on for such an important task. Instead, she simply relaxed, melted into the moment, and allowed her tongue to find The Lady’s clit. Kyra had experience making love to a woman, but this had nothing to do with any of those prior encounters. Her mind was too dissolved to use any of her history, anything besides the pull inside of her that directed her tongue to flick in a sensuous dance to lure out its partner. The moment it was ready, her lips sealed, and she suckled as hard as she could, flicking in a rhythm that she knew belonged to someone else…

Someone else with brighter gray eyes, someone else who spent so much time trapped between The Lady’s legs.

“Mm. Like that… Show me just what you can do. Show me just how you can make my life so much better.” The Lady’s voice remained firm and strong, not wavering or quivering even as Kyra’s tongue moved quicker, and her lips suckled harder.

Kyra’s world consisted of those metal clicks, the woman’s sex she needed to please, and her own burning body that felt so weak with lust. The Lady’s presence felt like it was filling some void inside of her, pushing into some eager place that she used to understand the world and filling it with her needs, with her desires, with her wants, and there was no room for Kyra inside of her own mind. She felt too soft, too small, and the taste of The Lady’s pussy was too perfect.

She wants thiss… I want thisss… Click… click… Mnnnn… Click click… So… weak… so… gooood… No one’s ever felt like her befooore…

“No real resistance to crush, but that’s not unusual when I get my hands on a meta who isn’t a super.” The Lady’s words move into Kyra’s ears, but she was too lost in the movements of her tongue to understand their meanings. The only thing she understood was what The Lady wanted, or more precisely, what The Lady’s body wanted.

Metal clicked, and Kyra lost track of time. One moment her tongue was moving up, and the next it was moving up again without ever having moved down. With how unimportant her conscious mind was in following The Lady’s instructions, it didn’t matter that her perception of time seemed to be broken, or that it was like she couldn’t stay awake for longer than a short matter of moments. Her lips continued to suck. Her tongue continued to dance.

Nothing more mattered in that moment.

When she woke from a moment of hazy emptiness to feel The Lady’s thighs squeeze around her face, heels digging into her back, all she could do was suck to help the woman’s orgasm be that much more intense. It was what The Lady wanted, and without being told she’d understood what she needed to do.

Even with the pink in her mind feeling so distant, so faded, Kyra understood what She wanted. Uppercase… She’s so much more than me, it feels… wrong… to think of Her with a lowercase, it feels… Inappropriate, feels…

Click… click… click…

Metal hit metal, and Kyra found herself peering up at The Lady as she slowly lifted her skirt up over her ass. The pale, smooth skin was the most perfect shape it could have been, and the sight of her pussy made Kyra feel so aware of the taste that filled her mouth as intensely as the candy had before.

Without being told anything at all, her eyes felt themselves drawn up, staring not at The Lady’s pussy, but at the tight, puckered opening of her anus. Tremors shot down her spine, and Kyra groaned as she felt herself compelled to move. Never before had she felt what someone wanted grasping her like a leash and pulling her to obey, but there was no other way to describe the intense sensations that urged her onward. Wordlessly, The Lady had commanded her to grasp at The Lady’s hips to hold her in place, and to begin moving her tongue not within the woman’s pussy, but around the pink rim of flesh that surrounded her higher, tighter opening.

She’d never worshipped another woman’s ass before, but it was as natural as breathing to feel her tongue move along the skin that seemed to quiver and urge Kyra’s tongue to move deeper, to make her as wet there as she was such a short distance lower. All that Kyra could do was suckle and lick, squeezing only as tight as The Lady wanted her to squeeze. Her mind was too weak to do anything else.

Every click resonated through her tongue, and The Lady bucked back to rub against Kyra’s face. She grasped at her own desk, an amused smirk as her eyes faintly twitched. Not for a moment did she betray the pleasure that coursed through her body. Instead, she exercised the same control over herself that she did over Kyra.

Metal clicked, and the kneeling woman shuddered as her tongue followed The Lady’s desires to every destination. All that mattered to her was pleasing The Lady, and if that meant tasting every square inch of Her ass, then that was what she was going to do—without question.

The softest cry escaped The Lady’s lips, and Kyra shuddered as she felt Her satisfaction clench around her mind like a vice. She felt so vulnerable, so weak, so powerless at The Lady’s feet. When another flood of lust teased along The Lady’s thighs, the next click faded and Kyra found herself cleaning up those juices with her mouth. She had pleased The Lady, and knowing that made her whole body tingle.

Another strong click followed, and she found herself no longer kneeling. Instead, she was laid out across The Lady’s desk. Her clothing was no longer tugged out of the way this way and that. Instead, she was naked. All of her warm, golden skin was on display, as was the cute tuft of purple hair she kept just above her pussy as if to have some proof her hair was natural.

Her eyebrows matched, but that was much easier than maintaining immaculately dyed pubic hair.

“Not long from now,” The Lady spoke, her words echoing through the depths of Kyra’s mind, “you’re going to go through a more rigorous process. Drugs. Tests. When all of that is done, you’re going to belong to me. You’re going to live here, in this building, and you’re going to exist to do what I want you to do, when I want you to do it. Nothing else in your life matters compared to that. Understood, Kyra?”

“Y-yesssss….” Her voice slurred, sounding almost drunken as her thighs clenched as the idea tingled through her mind and body both. “B-belong to you… What you want me to do… nothing else… nothing else matters…”

Distant memories of Samantha, so flustered, cheeks so red, so eager to attend that gala just to see her flashed in Kyra’s eyes. She saw Florence, that beautiful blonde, wearing that pretty white dress, so eager to return to the Golden Vintage just for another chance of irresistible intimacy with the sommelier. She remembered Kendal, and Cassandra, and Rick.

Those memories didn’t simply vanish, but their importance dimmed. The colors of those memories turned a muted, muddy gray as the purple haired woman quivered. Her eyes were a nearly silver shade of hazel, staring blankly at the ceiling above her.

Nothing else… matters… Only what she wants me to do…

“Very good. You won’t need a new name. A code phrase, but I think we can come up with something fun for that.” The Lady’s fingers danced around one of Kyra’s nipples, before pinching it tight. With a slow twist she drew out another long, loud, sharp cry. Her nipples were slightly longer than they had been before as The Lady tugged them, and her eyes hooded as she made silent note of that detail. “You’re such a people pleaser, aren’t you, Kyra?”

“Ysss… l-like… like to make people happy…” She groaned, her eyes losing focus as The Lady twisted her other nipple more roughly than the first. “G-good at it…!”

“I bet you are.” The Lady’s words were mocking, but her tone was neutral as her fingers reached down between the sommelier’s legs and began to stroke along her slit. “And from now on, you’re good at that for me. You will please who I want you to please, when I want you to please them. When I send you to a client, all that will matter is that they’re happy with you, and wanting to hire your services again. Understood, kyra?”

Hazel eyes crossed as the lower case slammed into her mind. She’d felt helpless before, but she hadn’t felt so bound, so small, so utterly powerless. Somehow The Lady could use her name not simply to enforce Her will, but to remind her of how much of her will she’d lost, her purpose, everything that made her quiver.

So simply, The Lady made Kyra little more than an object. She existed to serve and please, with no room in her mind to object.

“Y-yessss…! P-please… r-repeat customers… mmm just like with wine…” Kyra’s expression shifted into a sleepy, tired smile. Her previous skillset would continue to be useful, even in her new role. Even if none of the people that used to matter in her life would mean anything at all, Kyra would still be able to make people feel good. She’d still be trying to make people eager to come back for more, for more of her. Something about that felt more important than anything could possibly feel.

“Exactly like with wine. You won’t be putting in a two week’s notice, but that will have to be good enough for the Golden Vintage. It’s much more important that you take advantage of your special gifts.” The Lady’s thumb and forefinger pinched Kyra’s clit, and the helpless woman screamed until her voice cut out and she fell limp against the wooden desk.

Silence, except for the harsh panting of Kyra’s aroused breaths, settled over The Lady’s office. There was a sense of finality in the air. Things were going to change, and there was no room for debate. The Lady had already made those decisions for her, and Kyra understood.

Her purpose was not to think, but to obey.

“Candy Pink Rosé… That has a nice sound to it, doesn’t it?” Kyra moaned her agreement, and The Lady’s fingers delved deep between her legs. “I think that will be very easy to remember. My own special vintage.”

Kyra’s moans grew louder with each thrust of The Lady’s fingers. Some of that was her own pleasure. Her body was so sensitive, and each caress of those long, elegant digits brought out more need, more weakness, and more vulnerability. More than that, though, was Kyra’s need to please The Lady, to fulfill her each and every desire. The Lady’s fingers weren’t moving for Kyra’s pleasure, but her own.

That meant that her every cry, her every scream, her every breathless gasp, was emphasized not as a release of pressure, but to grant more pleasure and delight to her owner. The Lady wanted to make her scream, and that meant that Kyra would scream. She would scream louder and louder, gasping for air as her thighs shuddered and her pussy clenched.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, only whites as her hips bucked to meet each thrust of The Lady’s fingers. The metal balls continued to click, disrupted by the shuddering of her hips. So lost in her obedient reverie, it was impossible for the helpless sommelier to realize the sound had changed at all. Her mind was lost in another void of obedience, barely able to understand even instinctively that to serve her owner she needed to shake as hard as she could, to arch her back high off of the table as her cries reached a fever pitch.

When she came, it was with a cry of The Lady’s name, and then harsh panting as she strained to regain control of her breathing. Her body glistened with sweat. Her mouth hung open. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing.

            The Lady maintained a neutral expression as she pressed a button on her nearby phone, and summoned Windy to process her latest acquisition.

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