Chapter 6: Out of Control

“I’m Figura…. Heroine… won’t give up… s-so stubborn…w ant to help… slut… S-Sedam’s hypnosis… I… wh… huh…?”

Figura blinked. She felt like she’d woken up mid-sentence, but the words weren’t something meaningless from some distant dream. They’d been firm, solid words, and she’d meant them intensely. They held purpose and intent, both of which she could no longer remember.

It was as if a heavy blanket had been lifted and she was suddenly awake, but with a gap in her memory.

Why are my legs so… sore…? She groaned, rubbing at her forehead. Her legs were like jelly, pleading to stop holding her upright. I feel like I’ve been standing for… hours… She was still in front of the mirror, her leotard still adjusted to expose the flushed lips of her pussy.

Her forehead was wet.

When she sniffed her fingers, the strong scent of her own arousal made the heroine’s eyes cross. F-fuck…! Was I… just standing… masturbating… all night long…? I… F-fuck… I feel so… wasted… She ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth with a quiet moan. It was so dry, and her throat was raspy and sore. Need water… Nnn… Not sure if I can walk, but I need to try…

Before she turned away from the mirror, Figura noticed something about herself was different. Her hair was the same. Her eyes were brown. She wasn’t taller, or shorter…

My breasts…

Figura quivered, her hands running along her hips on their way up her body. She couldn’t stop herself from lifting them to feel the weight. She couldn’t remember changing their size, but something about feeling them large and heavy in her hands made her feel softer. Her fingers trembled, and she steadied them by grasping her breasts tighter.

They were larger and heavier, but it was more than that. Feeling them in her hands, feeling the weight at her chest, made something deep inside of her tingle and throb.

Changing my body changes my mind… makes me what someone wants me to be…

Figura found herself giggling, a silly smile spreading across her face. It was silly, but she liked feeling silly. It wasn’t a bad kind of silly, like when she’d put a dirty spoon in a clean dishwasher. It was a sexy kind of silly, the kind that made her want to sashay and sway her hips. It was the kind that made her want to flutter her eyes and giggle while bouncing in place.

It was a ditzy kind of silly, the ditzy feeling from being too turned on and too care free to have inhibitions. It was more of a feeling she’d felt as Fiona, not Figura.

Mmmm… Hee… For some reason… Figura kneaded her breasts slowly as she thought to herself, her hips rolling forward. I want to be Figura right now… not Fiona! So… I guess I will, then…! Gosh, my tits feel so nice like this… like… why do I ever let them be smaller…? They’re just, like… so soft… so heavy… big… round… mmm… I just wanna squeeze and giggle…!

Figura trembled. Her legs really were so sore, and her mouth so dry, but that all felt a lot less important than how sexy and good it felt to play with her tits. Her eyes hooded as Figura squeezed and kneaded at herself, giggling and moaning as she swayed sleepily on her feet.

Mmm… When was the last time I, like… took a nap…? Was I just sleeping, or did I just wake up…? She moaned as her fingers pinched at her nipples, twisting them through her leotard in a way that felt like it should be rougher and firmer to be more familiar, more what she wanted. When she gave into the impulse and twisted at her nipples as hard as she could, Figura crashed down to her knees with a flurry of giggles and a loud mewl.

Kneeling didn’t feel quite right. Something about it was uncomfortable, like she was surrendering to someone… and she didn’t want to do that. Not right now.

I’m a heroine… I need to resist… I need to fight… I need to hold onto Figura…

The thoughts echoed into her head, only to be replaced with giggles as she rolled onto her side. It felt much better to grope at her chest when she didn’t need to worry about complicated thoughts she didn’t understand.

Her head felt full of cotton candy. It was good for giggling—great for smiling—but bad for thinking. That was hard to mind when it felt so good to squeeze and knead at her chest and forget about… Teehee… What am I even forgetting…? Is it important…?

She stopped kneading for a long moment, instead shuddering and twitching as her fingers traced circles around her hard, puffy nipples.

Mmm… must not be if I can’t remember… or it’s just everything…!

As much fun as it was to touch herself and giggle with her eyes rolled back into her head, lying on the floor was making it very clear that she hadn’t slept recently. If she had, then it hadn’t helped her feel very well rested. She was so sleepy, and playing with her tits was making her feel the same warmth all over that she was feeling between her thighs.

When was the last time I came…? Mmm… I feel a little sore… sticky… but it isn’t bad, just… mmm, want mooore… Figura didn’t pull her hands away from her breasts even as she daydreamed about stroking her clit. It was too nice, and too easy, to knead and giggle.

Her thighs clenched together as she rolled onto her back and arched off of the floor. Everything felt so good.

She wasn’t just giggling because she felt vapid and slow, though that was certainly helping.

She was giggling because everything that filled that vacant, empty space between her ears made her feel so supremely happy.

She couldn’t remember ever being so carefree, and without being told, she knew she had her larger breasts to thank. Squeezing them felt like reminding herself of that fact over and over again.

Mmm I love having such big tits…! Why do I ever let them be smaller if this feels sooo good…?!

Her giggles were quieter, but not because she wasn’t feeling as enthusiastically blissful.

Instead, it was for the same reason her eyes kept hooding lower and lower.

Figura felt sleepy, sleepy in a way she couldn’t remember feeling for a very long time. Distant memories of being a teenager, staying up late just because she could tried to sneak past the cottony feeling that packed her mind, but couldn’t make its way to her conscious thoughts.

It wasn’t as good to remember, or to think, as it was to play with her large breasts that strained against her uniform.

Her nipples felt longer and thicker, the bumps straining much more under her clothing than they usually did. Mmm, I should get you out… but I don’t… remember… how…? She giggled and blinked, staring up at the ceiling. It kept getting darker, and her mind was too slow to realize it was because her eyes kept falling nearly shut.

Mmm, maybe I should just take a nap… Figura sighed. Nothing more important I need to do… I can just get a little nap, then wake up and do… whatever…

Sunlight was already shining around Fiona’s closed curtains. If they weren’t such a dark black, then her room, and the mirror beside her, would be well illuminated already.

Just a few minutes…

Figura’s eyes fell closed. Her hands were still kneading and squeezing greedily at her breasts. They almost felt like someone else’s, but she couldn’t remember who had breasts like the ones in her hands. She could only remember the good feeling and purr as she drifted off to sleep, drooling onto her floor without a care in the world.

“Nnnn…” Figura groaned as she woke on her back. The floor under her was hard, but her back wasn’t sore.

One of the positives no one mentioned about being a shapeshifter was how easy it was to make herself comfortable. Without an active thought, her spine had shifted just enough to make her sleep far more restful than it would have been otherwise. The only parts of her body that were sore were her breasts, her pussy, and her legs.

Her mouth felt so much less dry than the last time she’d been awake. It was easy to remember coming to stand in front of the mirror, and it was just as easy to remember the enthusiasm she’d shown in mauling her own breasts.

When she reached up instinctively to squeeze them again, she found they were back to their regular size. It was still nice in a soothing way to stroke her sore body, but it didn’t feel anything like it had before. It was so much easier to think without feeling everything growing hot and floating away like a cloud.

“Fuck… what… even happened last night…” Sitting up, she looked around and blinked when her eyes found the windows. The sun was already setting, and she was only just waking up. “Oh. That’s… Okay. I guess that’s the kind of day today is going to be…” Forcing herself to stand on shaky legs, Figura made her way towards her kitchen and poured herself a glass of cold, filtered water from a pitcher inside of her fridge.

She ignored the lust between her legs that begged so pitifully for her attention. It wasn’t because she was sore, but because she knew she needed to focus. She needed to try understanding what was happening. Nothing felt right, but it didn’t feel particularly bad, either.

If I let myself start touching myself, even for just a moment, I won’t be able to stop… Her eyes fluttered as she took a long, slow drink. The cool helped her focus. Better… okay… so…

Last night…

Figura wracked her brain, desperate to understand what had happened to her. Why had she slept through the day? Why had she woken to find her breasts so large, and so… compelling? She’d shapeshifted in her sleep before, but all of those changes were small and reverting themselves when she sat up to go about her day. She’d never suddenly regained consciousness and found herself nearly tearing apart her costume with her breasts, not before what she hoped was today.

Maybe I should call Denise? She could help jog my memory… A flash of green eyes filled her mind, and Figura whimpered. A flush spread across her cheeks. Her thighs trembled.

“Oh… oh fuck…! I fucked up again…!” Figura whimpered, shaking her head. “I went… I went to some bar, with more money and I… and she… That bitch hypnotized me…! I can’t remember anything after… some kind of… numbers… counting… Nnn… She had me standing in front of my mirror all night?! What the hell did she even do to me…?!”

Terror and fear gripped the heroine so tightly she couldn’t stand. Leaning back against her kitchen counter, she slid down to the floor, the glass of water shaking in her hand. It splashed over her face and across her leotard, but did nothing to dispel her panic.

A whole night under hypnosis would be intense for anyone, even if they weren’t suffering from whatever had happened with Evanthe. Her pussy was still desperate for attention, hardly silent just because Figura was frantically fretting about the previous evening. If anything, it seemed to be offering her a release through erotic oblivion. She had spent hours just touching herself the day before, unable to stop herself from yielding to the powerful need to rub and stroke and pinch, even if she was unable to feel the release that she so desperately needed.

Shuddering, she set the glass of water down onto the floor. Her hand began to move towards her thigh, slowly sliding up along her bare skin.

Shame twisted inside of her, and she closed her eyes tight. Her left hand pulled the right away, holding it against her chest as though she couldn’t trust it to stay away from her pussy on its own.

“I can’t… Can’t tell Denise what happened. Not yet! I… I need… I need to get to the bottom of this!” Figura sniffled, holding back tears as she took another long drink of water. She couldn’t let herself give up. Not yet. An innocent woman was still missing, held in the clutches of a group of villains who were happy to humiliate a superheroine. If they felt safe doing that, what were they doing to their hostage?

The thought made Figura’s blood run cold.

“That… that was a lot of money. And I’ve lost it twice…” Figura finished the tall glass of water with one long swig before she struggled up to her feet. Her legs were still wobbly and weak, but she wouldn’t let them surrender. Sleep had helped restore some of their strength, enough that it might be safe for her to hit the town. “Someone at that bar… They must know something! Or maybe… Maybe Evanthe prowls around that park…! If I go looking for clues, then maybe I can find something, and then rescue that poor girl myself…!”

Denise had told her no heroics. All she’d wanted was for Figura to deliver the cash and then escort the girl home. Figura had wanted to do that, but now everything had gone so wrong twice over.

There’s no one in Sunford that I know who specializes in undoing mental reprogramming… Figura groaned as she rubbed away the tears that kept sneaking down her face. I have no idea how to find out what she put into my mind, or how to get any of it out… but I can’t let that woman down. She’s counting on me to get her free, and I’ve now lost two large sums of money and put both of us at risk.

Obviously whatever Sedam did to me affected my powers, but I… Figura hesitated as she peeled out of her costume. Going out now, with her mind itself an unknown, felt exceedingly risky. There was no way for her to even know what would be dangerous.

More and more of her wanted to call Denise, to confess she’d failed again, and hide away her costume forever. If she failed again, there would be no way of knowing what would happen to her or the people who relied on her. For all she knew, she could end up as a hostage, just like the woman she wanted to save.

No matter what she did next, she knew she would need a shower.

Her body was still so hot, pleading with her to rub between her legs, to play with her breasts, to make them larger again so she could suck on her own nipples—anything—but she forced herself to behave. She tugged off the last of her costume, turned on the hot water, and tightly gripped the sides of her sink to keep herself from masturbating as she waited for the water to get hot.

It might not be possible for me to take a shower without masturbating, but I’m going to try… Figura quivered, her hips moving forward to rub her waist against the cool countertop in front of her. It was so tempting to move, to rub her slit along the corner of the sink, but she grasped tighter and forced her hips still. Fuck…! I need to get control of myself…! I need to…

Need… to…

Figura’s eyes were caught in the mirror, but it wasn’t a pair of brown eyes looking back at her. They were hazel, hypnotic hazel eyes that grasped her gaze and held it tight.

You’re too weak to stare into my eyes, Figura.

She shuddered, moaning as she felt herself growing softer and weaker. She couldn’t fight or resist it, only tremble as she felt herself lost in a forgotten compulsion.

Figura hadn’t even remembered changing her eyes to hazel. A forgotten compulsion shifted her body, and her mind followed. Helplessly trapped in place, all that Figura could do was quiver, held in place by a force of will much stronger than her own.

“Can’t resist your hypnosis… Can’t resist Sedam’s hypnosis… Weak… helpless… R-retain my shape… Always… retaining my shape… Never… losing… Figura…!”

Her chanting continued, but it wasn’t steady or carefully controlled. It was feverish and desperate, words stumbling over each other as she rubbed herself against the smooth edge of the sink. Her glassy eyes stared, unblinking, as she passionately repeated words that her conscious mind wasn’t allowed to remember.

“I’m a slut… a slut for Sedam’s hypnosis… Can’t ressssissstt… Always… back to Figura… Shame… embarrassed… needy… so… needy… can’t… cum… but want it so much…!” Watching her reflection felt like seeing another Figura just as helplessly lost as she was. Her mind was too far gone, too lost to realize what she was seeing. The psychological effect of experiencing her own surrender twice over was so powerful, and soon, Figura was a panting, writhing mess with lust sliding slickly down her thighs.

Steam slowly filled the bathroom as Figura chanted, but she was too oblivious to care that she was wasting hot water. She kept chanting, breathlessly, obediently, feeling her mind so weak and lost to the commands of a hypnotist she could only barely remember.

Slowly, the mirror began to fog, and it was more and more difficult to see Figura’s twin chanting with her. It was harder to hear her own desperate voice over the loud, hot, rushing water. When Figura could no longer see her eyes, they turned back to their simple brown, and Figura let out a sigh of relief as she made her way into the shower.

I’ll get to the bottom of this…! Figura savored the hot water pouring down along her body as she squirted a small dollop of shampoo into her hands, and then slowly slid her fingers through her hair. I don’t care how many people are working with Evanthe and Sedam! I’ll find them, and I’ll stop then. I’m a heroine… not some desperate, needy slut who can’t stop falling victim to mind control plots…!

Already, her memory of her own eyes ensnaring her in the mirror was gone, hidden away just like the sight of her eyes by a layer of impenetrable fog. All she remembered was her true nature, or at least the true nature that Sedam wanted her to embrace.

It wasn’t easier to ignore the heat between her legs, the way her clit pulsed and throbbed with each beat of her heart, but Figura wasn’t an ordinary woman. Even if it didn’t feel like she’d adjusted to the swelling lust at all, she couldn’t let herself give in, not while an innocent woman was out there needing someone, anyone, to help free her.

Soaping up her breasts was difficult. It would be so easy to make her breasts swell, to lose herself worshiping her own body with soap, but she resisted the urge.

You’re a heroine, Figura. That means you’re more stubborn than that.

She shook her head, took on a strong, determined expression. Words used to trap her had twisted in her mind and instead become a rallying cry.

Resist.

It was difficult to clean her body of lust without losing herself to another futile effort to cum, but Figura had her priorities. They were no longer completely under her control, but she was going to do her best to satisfy them either way.