Lightstorm in a Bottle
Chapter 3: The Eye of the Storm
by MadamKistulot
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: The Eye of the Storm
Uhnnn… My head feels so… dizzy… nnnn… body’s so… sore… Lightstorm groaned as she slowly emerged from the hot, slick void of sex that had slowly but inevitably burned away her reality and sucked her in deep. The last thing she remembered was being down on her knees, but instead she was sinking back into thick, plush cushions. For a moment, that was a relief.
Then she tried to stand, and found herself trapped.
All of that relief vanished instantaneously.
Why… why can’t I… nnn… why can’t I move…? Her mind was so slow that she couldn’t process the bonds that were strapped down tight across her ankles and wrists, trapping her in place. There was little give at all, the only positives being that they were leather instead of cold, harsh metal, and that under her arms and legs was yet more soft, plush padding. Even as she groggily struggled she wasn’t likely to hurt herself. Nnn… Tight… So… Can’t… nnnnnha…!
Squirming against her bonds rubbed her body down into the cushion of her seat, rubbing not-so-delicately between her legs against her still naked pussy lips. A gasp stuttered from her soft lips as her slow mind processed that she was, in fact, still naked. It took longer than it should have, and she’d already begun to stain the cushion before she stopped moving her hips.
Her mouth was still filled with the taste of women. It wasn’t just the taste of any one woman, but the mingled taste of every Syndicate cunt in that van. Lightstorm had nearly defeated them all before Whisper arrived.
Whisper… Lightstorm’s clit twitched, stirring back to life as her spread-apart thighs futilely tried to clench and rub together. She could press down against the cushioning under her ass, but her body wanted so much more.
The black-haired woman in white could have been just in front of Lightstorm, and the blonde heroine wouldn’t have known. Something was covering her eyes, making it impossible to see anything but darkness. She tried to struggle again, whining out, but all that did was help her feel more aware of her own unsatisfied lust as it began to burn again, longing for the release she’d been denied while so many women played with her body like a toy.
It was hard to remember how many thighs she’d ended up between, or how many hands and mouths had wandered all over her body. It had been so hard to keep track of what was happening moment to moment. Her mind hadn’t lasted long before she’d found it easier to just obey.
I wanted all of it… I was just… just a sex toy… Lightstorm shook her head, quietly whimpering. Nnn… Am I still just a sex toy, even if I don’t… No I… no, that’s not right… right…? That’s not… that’s not how it works, that’s not who I am… They just… I was just… It’s not my fault… I wouldn’t behave like that…
All that her continued struggling managed to do was make her gorgeous blonde hair fall over her forehead, where it clung, stuck to so much sweaty skin. Her breasts swayed, doing more to make a show for anyone nearby than to help her break free.
What happened to me…? I’m not like that… I wouldn’t do that… Whisper was so… pretty, but I’m not… I wouldn’t…! Feeling more awake from her struggles, she reached out with her mind, trying to find another. It would be hard to place an illusion to help break herself free when she couldn’t even see who was there or how she was trapped, but she needed to do something. She couldn’t just stay strapped down to the plush chair beneath her, hoping that nothing bad would happen.
She was being held against her will, and considering the last solid memories she had before waking up in her bonds, there was no way The Syndicate wasn’t involved.
Before she was able to sense anything, or anyone, her entire body shook, tensing and clenching, drawing back against the chair as tightly as she could. She let out a loud cry as pain seared through her mind, exhausting her, draining her of the will to fight, but she didn’t let herself give in. She pushed past it, even as she panted and whimpered, gritting her teeth through an agony that made her feel so helpless, so weak.
Lightstorm held out as long as she could, grasping tight at the armrests beneath her hands. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Her lips shook. Her eyes clamped shut. Her spine trembled.
“Good, you’re awake.” An unfamiliar voice, a woman’s voice, was only barely audible as Lightstorm began to scream in an agony she could do nothing to fight. She couldn’t sense anything, anything at all besides pain that was making it hard to even be sure that her other senses were functioning at all. “You should take the hint. Damaging my merchandise isn’t my preferred method, but if you insist on being stubborn? Oh well. Maybe someone will want to buy damaged goods. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
With a final scream, Lightstorm finally slumped in her restraints, ceasing her fruitless attempts. Even with a woman’s voice to focus on, she could do nothing to locate her psychically. It was the first time her mental sense had ever been effectively blindfolded, through pain or any other means.
Terror shuddered along her spine.
She was naked, strapped to a chair, and whoever had her was making certain there was no way she could use her powers. “Who are you…?! Where’s Whisper… what am I doing here?!”
Every time the bound heroine tried to suspect Whisper was responsible, her eyes rolled back into her head and her thighs clenched. Whisper was her friend. She trusted Whisper.
It was a truth etched too deeply into her brain to be questioned.
“Most of what you just asked is irrelevant. If you cooperate, however, I can explain what you want to know, and this can be over quickly, and gently.” The woman’s voice didn’t sound like she favored gentle, or if she did, it was a very different sort of gentle than Lightstorm would prefer. There was a sadistic, pleased tone to her voice that did nothing to put the bound heroine at ease. “If you struggle any more, try to resist and fight again, then that offer goes away. What do you think?”
Lightstorm couldn’t see the other woman, but she could feel another pair of eyes moving across every naked inch of her body. She could feel the way that the sweat on her forehead, and the slickness between her legs, was thrilling her captor.
She could also feel how useless, and how futile, struggling really was. If she can disable my powers… She has to be working with, or for, The Syndicate. I can’t help her, but is there any point in pretending I can fight back? Lightstorm slumped in her bonds, nodding as much as she could. Her head was restrained too, and her slow mind was only just now realizing the full extent of her bondage.
“I can’t really fight back, anyway.” Lightstorm’s internal monologue tried to insist she was lying, that this was just an act, but there was so much truth in the words she spoke that her own internal argument felt weak. “You already know that. So… why struggle…?”
Heat flushed between her thighs again, burning with the most exquisite need. She tried to keep herself from reacting, but her thighs moved on their own. Her nipples were hardening at her chest, turning into puffy pink points that ached for lips, for tongues, for fingers, for nails, for teeth, for anything to stimulate her. Her clit was following suit, making every breath quicker, sharper. She’d been driven to such heights of arousal, and now that her mind was fully awake, that need was rushing back.
Already, she needed to cum, and she needed it so badly. Her pussy was begging for it. NNn… this pressure… this… yearning inside of me… It’s already so strong… She whimpered, her eyes fluttering behind whatever kept her head in place. If it gets any stronger... if she makes it worse… She said she didn’t want me damaged, right? This… This makes it so hard to think, to… to do anything but writhe…!
“Ah, good. Your arousal is approaching expected levels. I was almost worried about that. I could correct for it, but I’d really rather not.” The woman’s voice sounded so amused, and her words made Lightstorm feel exposed all over again. “Who am I? You can call me ‘Savor’. The pain you felt earlier? Wires, inside of your brain. Psychic women like you tend to operate very predictably. These wires are calibrated so precisely that they can detect you even beginning to using your powers… and they can short-circuit the attempt before you can do anything at all. It’s quite painful, I’ve observed. I could install an on or off switch for it, but considering what we’re doing to you… I’ll probably leave it set to ‘off.’
“Would you like to know more about what we’re doing to you? Whisper is busy spending her paycheck.” Lightstorm could hear Savor smirking. The name Savor wasn’t familiar at all. That only made the fear worse.
It did nothing to weaken her arousal.
“Y-yes, I… I would like to know mo—mmmmmnnnnaaaa…!” Lightstorm’s reply was interrupted by a dildo thrusting deep between her legs without warning. It was large and wide, making her feel stretched and full.
Savor laughed, the sound so intensely mocking. Lightstorm tried not to show how much every laugh made her wince as she wriggled and squirmed around the toy deep between her legs, but she was too exposed, too vulnerable, too helpless to hide anything at all. Her eyes were hidden, but Savor didn’t need to see those to watch the way Lightstorm writhed, humiliated and exposed.
The burning heat between Lightstorm’s legs made it impossible to stop her pussy from squeezing greedily around the offered toy. Her hips began to move in their own rhythm, quiet whines dribbling from her lips as her body shook. Her body needed to cum, and it didn’t care about Lightstorm’s desire for dignity at all.
Ohh… She’s watching me, I know she’s watching me, but I can’t… I can’t stop myself! The heroine whimpered, trying to grasp at the chair to keep her body still to no avail. I need… need to stop, need to—
“Anyway, Lightstorm…” Savor spoke in the perfect moment to interrupt her thoughts, scattering them away. The distraction made it easier for her hips to continue their movements, much to their owner’s pitiful disappointment. “What we plan to do is very simple. You’re a well-established heroine in Midas. Anyone would love to get their hands on you, even as-is. There’s nothing more we can get from enhancing your body, but your mind? It presents a bit of a problem.
“There’s an auction in a week, and I have a few lesser women to sell, but no one like you. Whisper was doing a bit of extra security work, and she brought you back for processing. Women with your body type, and less going on upstairs? All the rage right now…”
Lightstorm’s lips parted to speak, only to let out another sharp cry as the toy began to pulse. It wasn’t vibrating, but pulsing, feeling so sexy as it moved inside of her unlike anything else ever had. Instead of just friction, it was warmth, waves of heat rippling through the inside of her body, pulsing along her body from the inside, coating it in sensitivity and need as it remained so deep inside of her.
She hadn’t been able to stay still before. With those pulses, the resistance she could muster to keep any scrap of dignity was rapidly melting away. Her grasp on the chair only helped to give Lightstorm more leverage to push the toy inside of her as she clenched and shook.
It was so warm, so hot, burning inside of her like a small sun of lust. The longer it pulsed, the more of her body burned with that heat, feeling so melty, so sexy, so raw. She needed release, needed the pleasure of orgasm relieving the pressure inside of her, and the more of that heat she felt, the closer it felt. Her body refused to stay still, and her breathing quickly devolved into breathy, desperate panting.
“L-less… Aaahh… Mmmnnn… U-upstairs…?” Lightstorm tried to sound scared, to truly express how that sounded, but the arousal in her voice, and her mind, were so much stronger.
“Yes. You don’t really need to be able to think to know how to use your pussy, or those large breasts of yours, or your lips. We need you to have a brain to keep on breathing, but beyond that point? Useless.”
There was a sound of fingers typing, and Lightstorm finally realized why she couldn’t see. In front of her eyes was a screen, a screen that had been turned off. Now, it was flaring to life. It dominated her vision, all the way from one edge of her peripheral vision to the other. It was so large, so bright, and before she could think to close her eyes, a spiral formed at its center.
As it spun, twisting in place, forming a tunnel that sucked in Lightstorm’s gaze, the toy between her legs began to move in the same perfect rhythm. It moved deeper, drawing back only to thrust that much deeper again and again. The heroine’s mouth hung open as the spiral itself, at first only black and white, began to flash and shimmer with so many colors, colors that were so familiar, and yet so entirely new.
Every color shift, every change from red to green, from yellow to purple, were all so perfectly calibrated to hold her eyes in thrall. All she could do was stare, her mouth hanging open as her body rubbed down into the toy that thrust so deep inside of her, each thrust making her more vulnerable, more powerless.
“O-o-ohhh… N-not… not my brain…! Not my min…d… my… my… mind…!” Lightstorm gasped at a sharp pinch in her arm, followed by a feeling of intense, raw heat surging down through her arm.
It burned, but the feeling was easily overwhelmed by the sensations already running rampant along her nerves.
“Don’t worry. You won’t miss it.” Savor sighed, clicking away on her keyboard. “A body like that? You were made for the bedroom, not to think for yourself. You’ll be much happier as a dumb, slutty little bimbo. Maybe we’ll even make you a pink version of your costume. Wouldn’t that be so cute? Pink and black looks so French. We’ll need to touch up your roots. You’d be perfect without those.”
Lightstorm screamed. It was meant to be a scream refusing Savor’s words, resisting the implications, but when the toy between her legs began to vibrate against her clit, the words died on her lips. She’d been aroused before, but the chemical burning through her body made those previous experiences feel almost pitiful.
Her body didn’t just want to fuck, or need to fuck. It was sex. Every movement was desperately focused on writhing around the toy that impaled her again and again, thrusting so deep with raw, brutal insistence.
Brown eyes glazed over, trapped in the spiral as words began to flash across her vision.
Bimbo.
Slut.
Whore.
Don’t want to think.
Want to fuck.
Every flash was perfectly timed with another thrust of the toy between her legs, another vibration, another pulse of heat. She’d already been feeling so weak, struggling desperately to regain her consciousness, but now all of that struggle was meaningless. She couldn’t stop clenching and bucking, bouncing on the toy beneath her as much as she could.
The only words that left her lips were hazy echoes of the words that flashed in front of her eyes. Her breasts bounced dramatically at her chest, her nipples so stiff. Lost in the spiral, Lightstorm only existed to fuck, and her mind only existed to be reprogrammed.
Wet.
Dumb.
Sex toy.
Slave.
Lightstorm’s cries grew louder and louder, but her body didn’t shake with release. Just as before, she was unable to cum. The more intense the pleasure became, the more that pressure built, but it never eased. It was never enough to break the dam and flood her juices down over the toy that filled her so perfectly. She kept needing more and more, powerless to resist the words that washed over her mind and engraved themselves into her psyche.
“Of course, it doesn’t hurt if we just modify your brain. Just a little.” Savor chuckled. “You don’t really need to have all of it working if you’re just going to be a dumb, slutty little bimbo. So let’s just do… this.”
The heroine cried out loudly as a surge of pain shuddered across her brain. Current flooded into her brain, mingling with the thrusting between her thighs and the words that felt like they were stimulating her libido directly. Her only thoughts were the words in front of her face. Her only desire was the desire being forced into her mind at that very moment.
Bimbo… slut… whore…! Don’t want to… ahhhh… th-think…! She shook, drool pouring down from her lips and her cunt as the pain seared into her mind, and her cunt helped to smear away more of her intelligence. Want to fuck…! Wet… dumb… sex toy! Sl-sl-slave…! Slaaave!
“I think after a week or so of this, you should be needy enough, with a weak enough mind, that you’ll only function as a fuck toy from now on. What do you think about that?” Savor looked to Lightstorm as if expecting an answer, but all the heroine could do was scream as she thrashed in her restraints, desperate for a release that would never come as her mind was sizzled and fucked away. “Might even give your new owner a remote control so they can turn your orgasms back on. Might not. You know girls who can’t cum are all the rage right now?”
All Lightstorm could do was scream and drool, shuddering as she stained the chair under her, losing herself deeper in the spiral and the words that thrust their way into her otherwise empty mind.
🥵💦