Vox Dominus

Chapter 10

by Mesmerciless

Tags: #noncon #brainwashing #dom:male #m/f #pov:bottom #pov:top #sub:female #blowjob #brainwashed #college #D/s #fingering #humiliation #hypnosis #hypnotic_voice #hypnotized #love_triangle #Master/slave_language #masturbation #multiple_partners #slow_burn #stripping

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--Mesmerciless

Chapter 10

Monday came with a cheery chill to the Diepner campus, the air as cool and crisp as the sky was bright and blue. In many ways, it felt like a renewal to Seb: not only was this the start of a new week and a new month, but a new mindset as well. Ever since he had discovered the Vox, he had been locked in a constant, anxious scramble, trying to juggle Chelsea, Sophia, and his school life, all while strange, powerful urges kept throwing him off balance.

But as he strode through the Crossing towards his afternoon class, he at last felt like he was getting a handle on things. Over the course of one weekend, he had reconnected with Sophia, subverted Chelsea’s attempt to thwart him, and satisfied the Vox with a hot, no-strings-attached double-blow-job. He had grabbed life by the collar, asserted his control, and for once life didn’t bite back. Who knew what the rest of October would bring?

Miki and Tobias were waiting for him as he entered Connors Hall, having already secured one of the tables in the expansive, sky-lit common area. The three of them all had classes in or near the building, and so they often met up here to grouse about their morning lectures before the day scattered them across campus again. Despite Seb’s glowing smile and the beams of sun streaming down from the ceiling, he was instantly aware of the dark clouds hanging over his friends as he sat.

“Uh, hey guys,” he offered, setting his bag down. “Rough morning so far?”

“We had a fight,” Miki stated bluntly, shooting an annoyed look at Tobias.

“Some random girl sent me a buncha weird DM’s last night.” Tobias explained, peeved. “Which Miki saw AFTER she checked my phone behind my back.”

“I just wanted to take a selfie ‘cause my phone was dying!” Miki exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to find your secret whore-chat instead!”

“It wasn’t a secret!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“Guys!” Seb quickly interjected before things spiraled out of control. “Slow down. What exactly happened last night?”

His friends exchanged another glance and, seeming to realize how fruitless their bickering was, both sat back with a resigned sigh. “You can tell him,” Miki relented. “It’s your fault anyway.”

“It’s not my—whatever.” Tobias waved Miki’s jab away before turning to Seb. “A girl I’d never met before messaged me, apparently thinking I was some guy who ditched her at a party or something.”

Seb swallowed, paranoia prickling at his neck. “O-oh really?” he asked. “Why did she think that?”

“Because she’s a slut,” Miki pouted.

Tobias shrugged. “She said she had met some guy at a party who she couldn’t really remember, but she thought his name was Tobias, so she looked online, and apparently I’m one of the only guys named Tobias at this school so…”

Seb cleared his throat to force down his rising terror. “Did she, uh, say what she wanted?”

Miki huffed. “For Tobias to ‘rock her world,’ apparently.”

Tobias laughed awkwardly. “It sounded like she and this other guy had a…uh, pretty intense time together. She said she couldn’t remember much but…”

“But it was enough for her to try and seduce my boyfriend,” Miki slapped the table.

“I-it sounds like it was just an honest mistake,” Seb offered.

“If it was, then why did Tobias hide it from me?” Miki demanded.

“I didn’t hide it from you!” her boyfriend protested.

“You didn’t tell me about it!”

“That’s not the same thing.”

As the pair descended back into their argument, Seb resigned himself with aimlessly scrolling on his phone. The fact that (what was her name?) Tiffany had apparently retained some memory of Saturday’s party was a cause for slight concern, but it seemed her recollections were still hazy enough that his identity and power were safe. He would have to be more careful about the names he gave out in the future, maybe even do his hair different or wear contacts as well.

Still, there was no need to dwell on it. Things were still proceeding as planned. He was still in control.

Right?


Seb ducked into the crowded auditorium right as the lights were dimming. Even with his newfound confidence, entering this lecture always made him nervous: it was one of the few classes he shared with Chelsea, an astronomy course that was known for being an easy way to fill ones science credit requirement. Fortunately, this meant that the room was often crowded enough for Seb to slip in without Chelsea spotting him, especially if he timed it right before the professor’s slideshow began.

This day was no exception: after quickly scanning the seats for any sign of his blonde antagonist, Seb decided on a spot towards the back, right behind a pair of tall students who would shield him from view if Chelsea risked craning her neck to look for him. She normally sat towards the front, so this should be fine: Seb could attend the class undetected, then slip back out the door before she had a chance to look for him.

All was going as planned.

Until a graceful figure slid into the seat next to him, her perfume hitting him like a jasmine gut-punch, her delicately styled hair perfectly framing her bright, wide eyes as they met his.

“Hey, Master,” Chelsea whispered.

Seb had to stifle a yelp of surprise. “W-what are you doing?” he sputtered back, maintaining just enough control to keep his voice under the professor’s booming lecture.

“What do you mean?” Chelsea mewed, resting her elbows on the desk and giving Seb a full view of her perfect breasts swaying in her sleeveless wrap top. “We share this class don’t we?”

“Y-yes but…” Seb grit his teeth as the Vox jolted awake inside of him. “Coming in here and…sitting next to me…dressed like that?”

“Like what?” the blonde beauty asked, putting a finger to her pouty lips.

Seb’s eyes narrowed. “Enough with the act. I know what you’re up to.”

In a flash, the innocence vanished from Chelsea’s eyes, replaced with a feline smugness. “Oh?” she purred. “And what would that be?”

“You’re trying to s-seduce me, obviously” Seb hissed. “Or at least trick me into using the Vox on you.”

“Hmmmm….and?” Chelsea cocked her head. Seb stiffened as he felt her fingers brush his thigh under the desk, before gently stroking the erection between his legs. “Is it working?” she breathed.

Fuck. Seb gripped his mechanical pencil so hard his thumb snapped the eraser off. One of the students in front of him looked back to find the source of the errant bit, forcing Seb to smile abashedly as Chelsea continued to tease his crotch, her slender fingers skimming up the shaft before curling over the head, coaxing the roiling waters of desire up to this throat and…

“Enough,” Seb pricked Chelsea with the pointy end of the pencil, forcing her to recoil.

“That was mean,” she glowered.

“I already gave you my answer,” Seb continued, forcing himself to focus on the lecture and not the beautiful sla-…the annoying girl next to him. “I can’t give you what you want. It’s wrong, and it’d only cause trouble for both of us.”

“And you think the current track won’t?” Chelsea countered with a wry smirk. “Face it, Master—your chances of having a normal life are over. So why not have some fun with me instead?”

“You don’t want fun. You want self-destruction.”

“That’s my choice, isn’t it?”

“Not if you want me as an accomplice.”

“Mmm, you’re feisty today,” Chelsea smiled, resting her chin on her hand. “I wonder why that is? Maybe something happened over the weekend?”

Seb stiffened, but managed to keep his voice level. “Hardly. I spent most of it trying to scrub you out of my head.”

“Flattering,” Chelsea replied, not batting an eye.

Despite himself, Seb couldn’t resist glancing back at her. Dammit. He hated it when she looked at him that way—like a lioness sizing up its prey. It made him want to push back. To remind her of how easily he had bent her under his control. How stupid and helpless she looked naked and drooling in the café bathroom, fingering her brain away at his command and…

He rubbed his eyes. “Are you sure this is a good idea, approaching me this way? Weren’t you the one worried about people talking about us?”

“Don’t you worry about my affairs,” came the vague answer. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Seb fixed her with as pointed a stare as he could muster. “Do you really?”

Chelsea held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity. “I know what I want. And I think you want it to.” She shot him a winking smile. “After all, you seem to have hard time ignoring me.”

Seb scoffed, turning away from her even as his erection throbbed. “Don’t get cocky. I’m not as predictable as you think.”

“I certainly hope not,” she answered, turning her own attention back to class. “What fun is a chase without a little bit of danger?”


Master stood quickly as the lights came back on, shooting a wary glance at Chelsea before disappearing into the flow of exiting students.

Chelsea held her conceited grin, and then let it fall with a sigh the moment he was out of view. She hazarded a glance beneath the desk, and was relieved to find the wetness between her thighs wasn’t visible through her jeans. She had put on a good front for Master, but in truth she was relieved he had put a stop to her handsy game of chicken. Otherwise, she might’ve not been able break away from the stiff, pulsing heat between his legs, its every move sending shivers of desire through her, beckoning his slave to her duties and…

Dammit. Chelsea wiped her drooling lips and stood, relieved that there were no lingering classmates to catch her little reverie. It had been like this all weekend for her, ever since she had discovered that mysterious gap in her memory. She still wasn’t sure exactly what Master had done to her, beyond erasing Sophia’s existence from her mind, but she had noticed one wicked side effect:

She couldn’t cum.

Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely accurate. Chelsea was fairly certain Master could make her cum if he wanted to, though why she believed that she wasn’t sure. She just knew that no matter how much she masturbated, no matter the time, place, or implement, the same thought would flash through her mind every time she reached the edge:

My body belongs to my Master.

And just like that, the orgasm building inside her would dissipate, leaving her panting, dripping, and thoroughly frazzled. Even worse, the fact that he had so completely claimed her without her knowledge just aroused her even more, leading to a perpetual cycle of sexual frustration.

That was the real reason behind her sudden boldness towards him. Master was right: it was dangerous for her to be so open in currying his favor. But she couldn’t afford to be subtle anymore. She needed him to wake up—to realize that the heart of a conqueror beat inside his chest. She had caught glimpses of that Master in the past, had fought and lost to it in the café. Now she knew: her body and mind belonged to him. She just needed him to hurry up and take them already.

Fortunately, her seductress routine wasn’t the only play in Chelsea’s hand. There was also Sophia. Whether or not she would be useful was still to be determined, but at the very least she was a potential wild card Master wasn’t aware of. Given the way he had reacted to Chelsea’s insinuations about the past weekend, she wagered he still believed she was unaware of Sophia’s existence. As long as Sophia didn’t blab to him, he should be oblivious of her intent to meet with Chelsea. That could be useful.

Unfortunately, said meeting was still days away. Due to mismatched schedules and a frankly irritating sorority event, Chelsea and Sophia were forced to settle for a Friday dinner as their choice of rendezvous. Which meant Chelsea would be unable to do anything but stew in thoughts of Master all week, including during the shared discussion portion of their astronomy course, a class too small and open for her to make much of a move. All the while, she would have to keep up some semblance of normalcy in her social circles, even as the aching need in her pussy consumed all her thoughts.

It would be hell. But she would do it. At the end was a goal worthy of the fight: the freedom of single-minded servitude, the bliss of uncompromising enslavement, the fulfilment of her promise to the Master who had captured her heart.


Sophia squirmed in her seat, her eyes scanning the flower baskets hanging from the wooden ceiling beams. For a restaurant clearly straining to seem rustic, Dalia’s exuded so much refinement it made her nauseous. All the Edison bulbs and exposed brick weren’t fooling her: as soon as she clapped eyes on the decimal-point-free menu prices, she knew she had made a mistake.

Why on earth had she let Chelsea choose the venue? What did Sophia think, that the snooty blonde was gonna settle for a quick-n-dirty Five Guys feast? Of course this was how things would play out. Sophia should’ve put up more of a fight but…

But it was hard when she was so nervous.

Thoughts of Chelsea had consumed all of her waking hours (and a few of her dreams) the whole week. Was Chelsea secretly seeing Seb? Had he really hypnotized her during the variety show? Did they have some kind of kinky arrangement that would lead to Chelsea accidentally calling him “Master?” Was Sophia overthinking it? How on earth did Chelsea get her skin so silky smooth? And was she born with a hair that radiant or…

“Still waiting?” the drawling waiter checked in again with a strained smile.

“Erm, yes, sorry,” Sophia made a show of checking her phone. “She said she would be here soon so, um, I think…”

“Very good,” he moved on without a second glance. Leaving Sophia with nothing to do but half-heartedly butter yet another slice of free bread. As though more carbs would somehow ease her back-flipping stomach.

Her stomach. Sophia self-consciously glanced at her belly under the table, fretting at the way her outfit clung to the contours of her soft body. It was the nicest outfit she owned, a lavender maxi dress she had bought at Nordstrom Rack before her freshman year. Back then, wearing it made her feel like a refined adult—now she felt like a silly girl in a chintzy costume, her tits constantly threatening to pop out and tear through the paper-thin charade.

Maybe Chelsea wouldn’t show up, Sophia mused morosely as she munched. Maybe Sophia could chicken out and not have to spend her Friday evening trapped with…

There she was. Sophia almost choked as her eyes met Chelsea’s across the restaurant. The blonde’s expression brightened, and she gave a courteous wave before gliding past the crowded tables, looking every bit in her element with a cute button-up blouse and tight, dark jeans.

“Hey, sorry for the wait,” she apologized, sliding into the chair and unfolding her napkin in one smooth motion. “Hope you weren’t here long.”

“Um, no, it’s okay,” Sophia assured, trying to daintily cover her mouth as she chewed. “I know you must be, like…really busy with the sorority and all.”

“Still, I’m usually much better at keeping my schedule,” Chelsea replied, scanning the menu. “Tell you what: why don’t we make this dinner my treat?”

Sophia’s swallowed. “Y-you don’t have to do that.”

“I insist,” the blonde said breezily, tossing her hair aside as though that settled the matter. “I chose the restaurant after all. I like your dress by the way.”

“O-oh,” Sophia looked down self-consciously. “Um, thanks. It’s j-just something I got on sale.”

“You wear it well,” Chelsea smiled, waving over their waiter. “It’s got a kind of retro thing going with your glasses. Very chic.”

Sophia nodded, pushing her spectacles back up her nose as Chelsea discussed the specials with their server. Already, the blonde was proving hard to pin down. In their first encounter, Sophia had gotten a rather hostile vibe from Chelsea, a sense that she was trying to put Sophia down without Seb realizing it. But now, the sorority queen was all smiles and grace. Had Sophia misread her earlier?

“Do you know what you want, miss?” the waiter turned towards Sophia.

“Uh, the, um, the ribeye please,” she answered after a panicked glance at the specials.

Chelsea arched her eyebrows. Sophia averted her gaze: no doubt the thin beauty was struggling not to laugh. Why didn’t Sophia just order the salad like she had planned? Now not only did she just order the most expensive item on the menu, but one that would make her seem like such a…

“Y’know what?” Chelsea looked to the waiter. “I think I’ll go with the ribeye too. As rare as you can get it, please.”

“Very good,” he answered before departing, leaving Sophia staring at Chelsea in stunned silence.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” she frowned.

“Oh. No.” Sophia hurriedly shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Hm.” A mysterious smile tugged the edges of Chelsea’s lips, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she turned the conversation towards more casual subjects, asking Sophia about her classes, discussing campus news, and advising on a few key student hotspots in town. Despite her earlier wariness, Sophia found herself relaxing as their discussion continued. Chelsea listened well, asked interesting questions where appropriate, and even laughed at a few of Sophia’s fumbling jokes. For a brief moment, Sophia dared to believe that Chelsea really was just interested in being friends, that the tense atmosphere of their coffee shop encounter had been a fluke, and that she would never think of Sophia as a rival for Seb’s affection.

But after a pause for the waiter to refill their waters, the bubble finally popped. “So remind me,” Chelsea said, looking up as though trying to recall something. “You and Seb went to the same…high school together, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Sophia answered with a faltering smile. “But we’ve actually been friends since elementary school.”

Chelsea’s eyes widened. “Wow, really? That’s amazing. Why didn’t you come to Diepner last year and keep the streak going?”

Sophia stiffened, balling her fists under the table. “I-I always meant to,” she said, “but things were kind of…complicated back then. And my parents couldn’t afford it until my scholarship was approved anyway.” She hoped that half-truth would be enough to satisfy Chelsea’s curiosity. Otherwise, Sophia wasn’t sure how she would explain what had happened between her and Seb, nor how she would describe that strange…force…that had kept her from…no, it was too crazy to even consider bringing up.

Thankfully, Chelsea responded with an encouraging nod. “Well good on you for not giving up,” she said. “I know how competitive those scholarship programs are. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t,” Sophia admitted. For more reasons than she could describe.

The food arrived shortly after, providing a welcome respite for Sophia to gather her thoughts. She had intended to use this dinner to scout out Chelsea, but so far the conversation had been fixed squarely on Sophia. Which was…nice, actually. It was certainly the warmest non-family dinner Sophia had enjoyed in a while. But that wasn’t going to get here anywhere new; that wasn’t the promise she had made when she arrived on campus. She had to take initiative, had to act on her desires. Otherwise, she’d never get what she really wanted.

“S-so I’m curious,” Sophia began, steeling her nerves. “Are you and Seb like…I dunno, an item or something?”

“’An item?’” Chelsea repeated.

“Yeah, y’know, like, seeing each other, or, whatever? Not that it’s a big deal either way,” she lied. “I just, um, got that kinda vibe when we met.”

“Ah,” Chelsea paused thoughtfully. “I probably came across pretty strong, didn’t I?”

Sophia blinked. “Sort of? Not, like, in a really bad way, or anything. Just. Yeah.”

“I can be like that,” Chelsea sighed. “But to answer your question, no, Seb and I aren’t romantically involved. We’re just friends.”

“Oh. Cool. Cool.” Sophia nodded, her heart pounding so hard she was worried it would shake the ice in her glass. “Do you, um, practice hypnosis together?”

Chelsea’s eyes snapped to Sophia’s, giving her the sudden, strange impression that the blonde was about to lash out across the table and strike her. But that feeling vanished in an instant, replaced by a strange, uneasy calm as Chelsea dabbed her lips with her napkin before responding. “He, um, hasn’t really brought it up since the variety show. Why?”

“J-just curious.” Sophia laughed awkwardly. “Um, this is a weird coincidence, but he, uh, actually did a similar act back in high school and he used to, uh, practice with me when we hung out. I thought he had given the whole stage hypnotist thing up but, after the show I thought, maybe, I dunno, he was giving it another shot. Or something.”

“I see,” Chelsea cocked her head slightly. “Why did he give it up?”

Sophia hesitated. “W-well…I wasn’t there but…I heard the high school talent show didn’t go so great. Actually, it was probably a lot like the one a couple weeks ago before you, um…”

“Before I pretended to be hypnotized.” Chelsea finished.

“Yeah,” Sophia exhaled.

“I see. That’s unfortunate,” Chelsea reclined and crossed her legs, her expression neutral, yet glowing with curiosity. “Where his practice sessions with you similarly unsuccessful?”

Sophia forced herself to not look away. The scared girl inside her told her to lie, to deflect, to move back to the comfortable, easy topics they had spent the most of dinner enjoying. But another part of her, somewhere deep inside wanted…no, needed Chelsea to understand.

Under the table, Sophia’s fingers clumsily fidgeted with her dress. But her gaze remained resolute. “He was pretty bad at it, at first,” she answered. “But there was one time, he actually managed to, um, to put me under, I guess you’d call it.”

“Interesting,” Chelsea’s eyes sparkled. “And…what was it like?”

Despite herself, Sophia smiled. “It was…really nice,” she admitted. “It’s kind of hard to explain but…it was like I was there, but I also wasn’t? But it wasn’t scary or anything it was just…relaxing, and nice, and he was just kinda guiding me along this crazy, blissed out trip and…I dunno,” she finally concluded with a shrug. “Sorry. You probably think I’m, like, crazy now.”

“I don’t think so,” Chelsea smiled. “I think that sounds amazing.”

Sophia tittered as she pushed her hair behind her neck, her cheeks burning. “R-really?” she asked. “You don’t think it’s weird or anything?”

“I mean, maybe a little?” Chelsea admitted with a laugh. “But I get it. Who wouldn’t wanna just tune out for a while?” Her smile turned into a mischievous smirk. “Have you asked him to do it again?”

“Wh-what?” Sophia felt her whole body ignite with embarrassment. “N-no I…I couldn’t, not after…I mean, it sounds like he gave it up already, right? I-it’d probably just make him feel uncomfortable if I brought it up again.”

“Mm, but you never know until you try, right? If you want, I can ask him about it next time we’re hanging out. He doesn’t know that I know about his history, so there’s no harm in me asking if he’s still practicing, right?”

“Uh, I guess that’s…right?” Sophia’s head was spinning. She had gone from scouting Chelsea as a competitor, to confessing to her as a confidant, to asking her help as an ally? This was all moving so fast.

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll be fine,” Chelsea assured her with a wink. “Y’know what they say: ask, and ye shall receive.”

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