Give a Penny, Take a Penny

Chapter 3: Mental Ablation

by MadamKistulot

Tags: #cw:noncon #dom:female #evil_businesswomen #f/f #humiliation #scifi #sub:female #bimbo #bimbofication #business_lady #comic_book #deal_with_the_devil #exhibitionism #mean_girls #multiple_partners
See spoiler tags : #blackmail #desperation

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 2021, and not for reposting or other such uses. 

Chapter 3: Mental Ablation

Penelope stared at the screen, and in no time at all she could feel it getting harder and harder to think.

At the same time, it only became easier and easier to stare. Looking so intently at the screen and the beautifully flowing concentric rings kept making it so simple to lose track of what vague, distant thoughts had been passing through her mind before they’d drifted away. Only the colors of the rings remained in her mind. Everything else was pushed away by the expanding rings and disappeared.

Lost and forgotten.

As she continued to stare, more and more basic parts of conscious understanding became more difficult—even things she’d known for a majority of her life. She recognized the colors appearing in front of her eyes, grasping and twisting at her vulnerable, despair-soaked mind, but naming them was impossible. Simple words like ‘red’ and ‘blue’ and ‘yellow’ felt too complicated, too slippery for her to grasp for long.

It was so much easier to just watch, and let the shapes direct her mind on their own. It was so much easier to just let go, and let whatever was going to happen to her, whatever fate that Miranda and Charlotte had planned for her simply… Happen.

Charlotte Salinas and Miranda Murillo had been the two women responsible for making her entire life fall apart before she signed away everything, but even that was easy to forget in the sight of such beautiful visions filling the screen in front of her face.

The two women were so brazen when they told her just what was going to happen, and before she stared for a minute or two Penelope would have argued that consenting in such circumstances was hardly consent at all. She no longer remembered her views on consent. So no longer remembered the trauma she’d gone through that had brought her to such a low point. She could only remember the rings and the vast void they replaced over and over again.

Even at first, before the program’s hooks were deep in Penelope’s mind, she hadn’t even tried to resist. She was submitting, surrendering her heroic identity, surrendering her freedom, giving herself over as much as was legally possible and in some ways she was sure weren’t, in exchange for freedom from her growing mountain of debt and the poverty it brought. It hadn’t made much sense to resist the efforts to bend her to their will.

Backing out after their admissions of guilt, even if she had some evidence, wouldn’t have been able to change her life. Not even proof of what Charlotte and Miranda planned to do with her would have mattered at all. No one would have listened.

She knew it would just be more accusations that she was dragging the innocent through the mud to try clearing her once good name.

Penelope was so far beyond bothering with that.

The rings offered her a peace, and a calm. They felt safe, and they made it easy to relax and let everything go.

That was enough for Penelope.

Surrendering was what she really wanted in that moment more than anything. She wanted to surrender to the two women who had beaten her so that things could get better.

As long as things improved, she’d stopped caring what price she had to pay.

Before long at all, merely a matter of minutes, Penelope’s mind was completely blank—devoid of any and all things even vaguely resembling thoughts. She didn’t even notice when Miranda dropped the pair of bulky, noise canceling headphones over her ears.

She was too busy staring and losing all capacity for independent thought to the light shining from their laptop’s screen. There wasn’t enough of her left to truly realize much of anything at all. It wasn’t all gone forever, but she was lost deep enough in her hypnotic state that it felt as though she’d never been anything but blank, and was incapable of ever being anything else.

You’re a dumb, simple little bimbo!

Penelope moaned.

A moment before those words flowed into her empty mind, she had been nothing. Now, she was something again. Now she was a dumb, simple little bimbo. Her thighs clenched, her eyes fluttered, and her mouth fell open. There were only six words in her mind, and it was impossible for her to do anything but latch onto them with all of her once-considerable heroic will.

Dumb! Thoughts are hard to think!

Penelope whimpered. She didn’t know why, but something told her that was, or used to be bad. Something wanted to fight back against that idea, but she lacked any ability to do so.

The voice, feminine, authoritative, unquestionable, had spoken truth into her mind.

All that Penelope could do was accept it as the rings held back any of her unconscious, or subconscious struggling. She was a dumb, simple little bimbo, and dumb meant that thoughts were hard for her to think.

It made a certain kind of sense, since she wasn’t capable of thinking at all held captive in the sea of rings.

Simple! Complicated ideas are too much for you!

Penelope’s jaw fell lower, and her thighs fell open.

Complicated ideas meant so many things. Complicated ideas were most things that had been so important to Penelope. If they were too much for her, then that meant she would need someone to take care of her. She would need someone to handle all of those important things.

She couldn’t remember who had shown her the program, not lost so deep in its hold, but she somehow knew she needed them or she’d never make it as a dumb, simple little bimbo.

Bimbos should giggle and be sexy!

Penelope giggled, her eyes fluttering without ever losing their sight of the mesmerizing screen. It felt good to giggle, simple to giggle, sexy and dumb to giggle. She giggled more, and found that one giggle lead to the next, and the next made it so hard to stop.

Strong bimbos like you just want to work out like slutty gym bunnies!

Penelope’s eyes crossed on the next ring as it swallowed her up. Now she was strong, and while the concept of a gym had been something too complex for her moments ago if it had even existed in her world, now it was something she craved. She wanted to be like a slutty gym bunny. She wanted to work out, to push her body as hard as she could.

She wanted to be seen working out.

She wanted to get stronger, so more people would want to stare at her.

A moan slid from her lips as Charlotte unbuttoned her pants, and slid a vibrating toy under her panties. The rings continued to flow unendingly, but the vibration made them shake around her, clutching at her mind to tear away more and more of Penelope with each pass.

You just want to be sexy and seen! You don’t want to be intelligent or independent!

“D-don’t… don’t want to be intelligent… or independent… sexy and… and… seen!” Penelope groaned, expressing the words that were being tied into the deepest parts of her identity. She knew how strong and dumb she was, how simple a bimbo she was, and all of that worked so well with being an exhibitionist who didn’t even value intelligence.

What use did a slutty gym bunny have for intellect?

Bimbos wanted to giggle and be sexy—not make their own decisions. Being responsible for her own life was an idea that made Penelope uncomfortable even in her quarter-awake state. She didn’t want that.

Miranda and Charlotte were supposed to take care of that for her.

Things are so much better when rich, powerful women decide them for you!

“S-so much better… want… rich… powerful women… de… decide for me… puh-puhleeeeease…!” The combination of the rings sapping her will, the toy vibrating between her legs, and the voice whispering into her ear was breaking apart the most fundamental parts of who and what Penelope had always known, always believed.

In her ears, the recording began to repeat, hammering in the same points it already had, but to Penelope each time the voice spoke it was an epiphany all over again. She couldn’t hold one moment in her mind long enough, or consciously enough to be capable of expecting the next line. All of those parts of her were too soft, too weak, too melted into giggles and rolling hips. Drool sparkled at the corner of her lips, and her eyes took on a wider, emptier, glassier look to them as she continued to blankly stare into the center of each oncoming ring.

Each ring ripped away more of her old self, and each whisper reinforced what Charlotte and Miranda wanted from her, wanted her to be. Already it was hard to imagine Penelope would ever be the same difficult woman they’d ruined using so few of their many resources.

What remained of Penny Punchup was a torn costume that included the mask Miranda was twirling idly in her hand.

The two business women watched Penelope as she quivered and groaned, echoing the sentiments of the recording as her lust soaked through her clothing and stained the chair beneath her. Miranda held Penny’s mask in front of her own eyes, hooding her eyes as she spoke in a soft, curious tone. “Look at her. Do you think she’s already prepared for what we have in mind?”

“If not…?” Charlotte shrugged, reaching over and yanking the mask from Miranda’s hand. The blonde grumbled, blowing up some of the hair in front of her face before turning her focus back to the woman shuddering on the other side of their desk. “It’s just a matter of time. When she’s done with the full treatment, she’s going to be as intelligent as a chocolate truffle—and twice as delicious. You can already bounce a quarter off of her ass. I’m sure we can improve that.”

“I’m not sure we need to, but I hardly mind trying.” Miranda moved back around the desk, reaching down to squeeze at Penelope’s large breasts. The curly-haired woman moaned, arching her body into Miranda’s touch as more drool teased down from the corner of her lips. She giggled, and Miranda sighed dreamily. “Mm. These are fun, too. I really like her body.”

Charlotte sighed. “I’d hope so. We paid enough for it. Don’t you have anything better to do than fondle a woman while she’s being brainwashed?”

Miranda blinked.

“Does anyone?”

Charlotte blinked.

“You raise an interesting counter argument. Hm. Perhaps I should try, too.” The red haired woman raised a brow as she made her way arounds the desk. Her eyes drifted casually over the shuddering woman’s body before she leaned forward to claw her nails up along the inside of Penelope’s pants. “You may just have a point. It is a certain kind of horrible in a fun way. She’s already surrendered, but she isn’t done baking. She’s sleeping, and here we are fondling her like a plaything.”

It was Miranda’s turn to raise her eyebrow.

Like a plaything, Char?”

Charlotte laughed, shaking her head as she clawed her way up along Penelope’s body to dig her nails into the breast Miranda wasn’t still casually groping. Both women leaned towards each other, breasts squeezing against either side of Penelope’s head without blocking her full view of the rings as they pulled her deeper and deeper into the submission planned for her.

Blonde and redhead both raked their nails across Penelope’s body, grasping and squeezing for long lingering moments before moving on to find another fun tight place to claw or a supple place to squeeze.

Both clearly enjoyed the strength of her body just as much as her yielding curves. Together, their touches added to Penelope’s continued bucking and writhing.

“D-dumb… Simple… Bimbooooo… ohhhh…” Penelope whined, and the sound strained to turn into both a giggle and a moan at the same time. “Slutty… gym… bunny… sexy… not… mmm… teehee… not… intelli… intelli… comple… smaaaart…!”

“Have you ever heard our unlucky penny sound quite so… vapid?” Miranda’s tone was almost nurturing, even as she spoke words that to most would be venomous. “All of that defiant, unpleasant, stubborn Penny that I’m just so tired of dealing with is gone! It was worth putting so much effort into making her a pariah. I’d hate to miss out on such a sexy giggle and such a fun body.”

Charlotte shrugged, pinching one of Penelope’s nipples through her top. Penelope screamed, soon gasping for air as her whole body tried to arch and twist into all of the things she felt at once and found that impossible.

Grey eyes sparkled with mischievous delight, and Miranda’s nails slid smoothly along Penelope’s scalp. “You can be uncertain, but I’m very sure. It won’t be long now before she’s ready to go… and I want to get these tits, and that ass she’s sitting on…? On a treadmill. We can crank it up higher and higher… Put her in something very skimpy…”

“I already prepared the perfect outfit. I’m sure you’ll approve.” Charlotte grasped between Penelope’s legs, forcing the still-vibrating toy against her body that much firmer. Penelope’s giggles shifted into trembling cries of pleasure with a giggle-like sound sprinkled throughout. “But let’s take our time, mm? I would really hate to take her out of the oven before she’s done. This one could be dangerous if she wanted to be.”

“Don’t you worry about that…” Miranda purred as she rubbed her clothed breasts against the side of Penelope’s face. “I don’t intend on letting this tough girl do damage to anything besides her new wardrobe. How easy do you think she can tear a cotton shirt in half?”

“About as easy as she ruined that chair?” Charlotte sighed. “We’ll need to order a new one. That one is never losing the scent.”

Miranda nodded, and while she sighed the sound was much more pleased than Charlotte’s. “We will… but it’s fine. We can make Penelope work it off. Her new workouts are going to be very lucrative for us. Exhibitionism is such a useful fetish, isn’t it?”

Both women laughed together as Penelope giggled and moaned, lost deep in the tunnel of rings.

Author's Note: Penelope sank to the depths of despair and gave herself entirely to the very women responsible for ruining her life... but this is just the beginning. What comes next? To find out right now, you can check out my Patreon campaign! Not only do you get stories before anyone else, and access to exclusive blogs, and the occasional input on a story or two, but it's a good way to let me know that you want to see more of this story, and others like it! If you'd like to join in with a group of fellow mind control fetishists to discuss this and other stories, join us at The Mind Control Literature Discord or my personal discord, Madam Kistulot's Domain!

This story would not be possible without the support of the following Patrons: Zyfire, Elsa Whitworth, Flluffie, aleksandra C, Nightcap, Ji Heon L., gabbermoth, Skullever, DepEnc, JM, Rie, Chris W., Daniel, M., Danni T, Titan7 Cel, Morriel, Papa Dragon, Claymoresmash, Big D, Atrunia, Gillian the Squid, Saevar L., Michal Reimer, Geoffery B, Flintnsteal, darkbookmage, Sam I, Emily Grey, James R, Chloe, Darren S., gingersnaps, Zoe Tunnell, Michael M., Meeeesta_keeem, Carrie, Steve P, BTYOR, Sierra29, Jessikitty, Freyja Foot Freak, Katie L,  Kianna Skogseth, Jasmine, Dex, Scott L, Will the Squid, NekoIncardine. Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll join me for the rest of this tale... and many others yet to come!

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