It was with a mixture of exhilaration and anxiety that the superhero now known as Sparrowhawk lowered himself through the skylight and onto the walkway below. The investigation that had led him here, a warehouse in the Docklands district at 2am, was his first as a solo operator. His first real case since stepping out from under the shadow of his mentor, the esteemed Falcon. He’d been following up a series of strange occurrences all over the city. People disappearing then reappearing a few days later with no memory of what happened, bank clerks handing over a hundred dollars to every customer for an hour. Too minor to be of concern to any of the heavy hitters, but not a bad way to start his own crime-fighting career. Wrap this one up quickly, and he could move on to bigger and better things.

Sparrowhawk realised he’d been letting his imagination run away with him. He was still standing on the walkway where he landed, having made no attempt to move or hide as he came in. He cursed himself silently as he crouched down, imagining the stinging rebuke that Falcon would have delivered. But he’s not here, Sparrowhawk told himself, you’re finally doing this on your own. The fledgling hero began to make his way slowly around the walkway, scoping out the warehouse below. There was no sign of any guards, no signs of anyone at all.

His investigations eventually brought him off the walkway, scaling the crates and shipping containers in the hope of finding something, anything that could provide some answers. He was beginning to lose hope when he came across a secluded corner of the warehouse containing a strange contraption. Standing around half the size of Sparrowhawk, it comprised a rectangular steel pillar with a spherical dome sitting atop. Attached were four long cables, leading to four headsets resting on four metal chairs. He didn’t know what it was, but it was the only thing here, and it didn’t seem to be on, so he leapt down for a closer look.

“What on earth…”

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you” came a sultry voice from behind him, “It’s just a load of junk. A decoy, to draw out inquisitive heroes.”

Sparrowhawk spun round to see a woman sat on a wooden crate. With his long education in the world of crime-fighting and heroics, he was familiar with all manner of costumes, from the sensible to the ridiculous, but the woman in front of him was something else. She was wearing black thigh-high boots, a tight white spandex leotard, and a small black domino mask. It might have been the least amount of costume that he’d ever seen on anyone. Of course, he admitted to himself, that might have been something to do with the size of her chest. The woman’s leotard was stretched tightly, trying to cover a pair of huge breasts, and only partially succeeding. That can’t be practical, he thought to himself, they look like they’re about to fall out.

“Ahem.”

Sparrowhawk looked up, startled, at a platinum blonde beauty wearing an amused smirk. And not a great deal else. Then his brain caught up with his ears.

“A decoy? What’s going on here. Who are you?” he asked, falling into a ready stance. The woman slid gracefully from the crate to the ground, the movement causing her chest to bounce delightfully.

“I’m the Titnotist, this is a trap, and you’re about to be my latest acquisition.”

Sparrowhawk didn’t intend to laugh, but he couldn’t help himself. His pent-up anxiety and excitement, building for weeks over the prospect of going solo, burst forth as laughter overwhelmed him.

“Sorry.” He managed through peels of laughter, “but the Titnotist? For real? Hypnotic tits?” He couldn’t believe that his first solo case was going to end with him handing over to the police someone called the Titnotist. Unless. “This is a set-up isn’t it? Did Snapdragon put you up to this?”

At this the blonde bombshell in front of him began to laugh gently, sending small vibrations down her chest. Sparrowhawk relaxed a little, the furious laughter subsiding.

“He did didn’t he!” I should have known that someone would mess with my first case, probably hired a stripper or something.

The woman raised her hands in acknowledgement, caught fair and square. The ridiculousness of the whole affair seemed to catch up with her, and her laughter intensified. As she did so, the tremors shook her colossal breasts, causing them to jiggle and shake. Where did Snap find this woman? Sparrowhawk wondered. With the superhero community being what it was, Sparrowhawk was no stranger to the sight of beautiful, impossibly well-proportioned women at the peak of physical fitness. Being Falcon’s protege meant that he was mostly restricted to watching and fantasising, but this stripper’s tits were right there in front of him, jiggling gently. How are they staying in that costume?

“Lots of them laugh at first, when they hear my name.” Her own laughter had subsided, replaced by slow deep breaths, but her hands remained above her head. Her chest stopped shaking and began to rise and fall in time with her breaths, straining even further against her costume. Sparrowhawk thought that they might be the biggest tits he’d ever seen. “But I always get the last laugh.” She clasped her hands above her head and began to sway her hips, sending her enormous breasts into delightful, undulating circular motions, unlike anything Sparrowhawk had ever seen. He was really enjoying her commitment to the gag, and he was really enjoying the way her breasts were swaying and shaking. “No one can resist the Titnotist.”

Something inside fought its way to the surface of his mind, the result of years of intense training under his mentor. There is a possibility, he thought, that this isn’t a prank. There is a possibility that this stunning woman in front of you is trying to hypnotise you with her large, full breasts, shaking them as she sways around and around. Sparrowhawk shook his head. “Alright. Joke’s over. You can stop pretending now.”

“I’ve already told you who I am. I’m the Titnotist. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me yet.” At this her swaying hips began to gyrate as well, adding new, fascinating motions to the movements of her chest.

His eyes were drawn back to them as they began to gently bounce. They really are the most incredible... “That’s enough.” He managed through gritted teeth. Ridiculous as it sounded, she wasn’t just some stripper. He dragged his eyes away from her alluring breasts and readied himself in a combat stance. “Give yourself up, or else I’ll be forced to subdue you.”

The Titnotist laughed again, brushing her hands down her deep cleavage as she lowered them, drawing his eyes back for a second or two. “Allow me to make you a counter-offer. Give yourself up. Give yourself completely to my hypnotic tits. There is no ‘or else’. You cannot resist them. You will surrender to them.”

Sparrowhawk felt a surge of arousal as her suggestions hit home and his eyes were drawn down to her beautiful breasts. Channelling the meditation and willpower training that his mentor had put him through, he dug into his mental reserves and fought through his desire to just stare at her mesmerising cleavage. He laughed again, tone much more serious. “It’ll take more than that I’m afraid, Titnotist.” Oh Lord, he thought, I can’t believe that I’ve had to say that. Then he launched himself forward, trying to put the villainess out of action swiftly. This won’t take long, I doubt she can even fight in that ridiculous outfit.

Sparrowhawk soon discovered that his assumption wasn’t entirely correct. The villainess proved to be combat trained, dodging and blocking his initial assault, forcing him to retreat back and circle his opponent. Okay, she’s better than I assumed, but her training can’t match mine. Take it slow, test her, find the weak spots in her style.

“I must admit, when I realised that my carefully laid trap had caught the Falcon’s apprentice, I assumed that I’d have you under my control by now. I’m impressed little Sparrow.” Her words brought the hero forwards in another attack, a combination of punches that she dodged gracefully, her breasts whirling and swaying as the strikes hit thin air.

“My name is Sparrowhawk!” The outburst accompanied his strikes unbidden, eliciting a laugh from his opponent.

“It’s not nice when people don’t take your name seriously, is it Sparrowhawk? No-one takes my name seriously until they realise they can’t take their eyes off my gorgeous tits.”

Don’t let her bait you into any rash moves. Stick to the plan, probe her defences. Win with your superior technique. The hero struck again, a combination of strikes ending with a leg sweep that the villainess avoided with a backflip that had her assets bouncing as she landed. How can she possibly move so fast with those things bouncing about? They’re so big! No, focus, try again.

“That’s how it starts, you know. The realisation that you can’t stop looking at them, can’t stop thinking about them. And the knowledge that you don’t want to stop looking at them, don’t want to stop thinking about them.”

The hero felt that he shouldn’t allow his adversary to do all the talking. “If you think that your breasts are going to stop me, you’re sadly mistaken.” Not a phrase I thought I’d be saying tonight. He attacked again, making heavy use of feints this time, watching his opponent closely for a sign of weakness. Again she parried and dodged, spinning and rotating, never staying still, her entire body sinuously swaying, those enormous breasts bouncing and shaking, impossibly still held in by the white leotard. You’d think they’d just fall out, with all that bouncing. There’s no way they haven’t come loose, just falling out for the world to stare at. Sparrowhawk realised that the Titnotist was talking again.

“The more you stare at them, the more they become the only thing you can think about. The more you stare at them, the more they Titnotise you.” The buxom beauty moved first this time, launching her own attacks in the same fluid style. Sparrowhawk shifted to the defensive. Okay, this is good, block and parry, read for tells, study the style. Utilising his countless hours of training, he fell into a comfortable defensive pattern, watching his opponent’s flowing movements, trying to determine the telltale signs that would distinguish genuine attacks from feints, and point to a weakness or overextension that could be countered. His mentor was one of the finest students of martial combat around, and Sparrowhawk had been a quick learner. Superior training, combined with a superior analysis of the opponent, would carry the day more often than not. All he had to do was watch. Watch this unbelievable woman, who thought that her incredible breasts would somehow hypnotise him. Watch her move fluidly, gracefully, while those impossible breasts bounced and swayed, all while staying inside that ridiculously tight outfit. He was vaguely aware that his blocks were getting slower. He needed to focus more, her body held the answer.

“And once I’ve started to Titnotise you, there’s no escape.” He was barely aware that she was talking, focused as he was on reading her body. He hadn’t noticed that she was making no real attempt to hit him, but was making sure that she was constantly moving, constantly displaying the bouncing of her hypnotic breasts. She feinted left and struck right with a high spinning kick, his eyes following the movement of her captivating cleavage. “And you don’t want to escape.”

Despite it being his first solo case, Sparrowhawk felt comfortable. He wasn’t in any real danger of losing, he just had to be patient and rely on his training. He just had to watch the Titnotist move. He just had to watch her incredible breasts bounce and jiggle. He could do this all day.

The Titnotist gradually stopped pretending to fight him, slowing the movement of her body to a slow, rhythmic sway, undulating from her hips, her hypnotic breasts moving in slow, regular circles. “There’s no need to fight any more Sparrowhawk, just watch.”

His body responded automatically, the tension draining from it as his arms lowered to his side. Another automatic response was also visible, the erection straining at his costume proof of the effect she was having on him. “You don’t want to fight it anymore, you just want to watch.” Her hypnotic breasts continued their captivating circles. “It feels so good to watch my tits Sparrowhawk. Watching them makes you feel so good. You don’t want to look away. You can’t look away.” The helpless hero was completely captivated, having spent the entirety of their brief fight watching her hypnotic breasts.

“I told you that you can’t resist my tits. I told you that submission is inevitable. I think you understand now.” The Titnotist was enjoying this, her moment of triumph, the successful first stage of her plan. Deep down inside the stricken Sparrowhawk, a kernel of resistance remained. An element of his subconscious mind, bolstered by intense mental training, was fighting back, bellowing to the rest of his mind about the shame of being captured on his first solo outing, of being bested by a pair of breasts, and the humiliation of his inevitable rescue by the Falcon.

His internal struggle must have been evident to the villainess, who had stopped her gentle gyrations. “Looks like there’s even more fight in you than I thought Sparrowhawk. It’s much more fun when they fight, it makes their final submission all the more enjoyable.” The fiery heat of shame and indignation grew, until it was able to wrest back a measure of control over the hero’s body. Sparrowhawk sprung forward suddenly with an ungainly lunge, catching the villainess by surprise. His momentum drove them both to the floor, but she was able to roll as they landed, making sure that she ended up on top, straddling his hips and holding him beneath her.

Sparrowhawk’s instinctive attempts to throw her off were cut short when he realised that he was staring up at the Titnotist’s bare breasts. They must have come loose when I lunged. They were phenomenal, easily the biggest, softest, creamiest, bounciest breasts he had ever seen. They were still jiggling gently from the impact of the fall. Two huge orbs filling his vision, perfect round breasts with large, pink nipples, firm and erect already, just like he was. All attempts to extricate himself were instantly forgotten as his mind was overwhelmed by the heavenly sight in front of him.

“Oh dear, this is always happening.” The Titnotist brought her hands up to cup her mesmerising mammaries, softly pressing and squeezing them in small circles. “One minute I’m telling a hero about how hypnotic my tits are, the next they’ve just fallen out of my costume, and they can see for themselves. Not long after that they become my helpless, hypnotised tit-slave.” Sparrowhawk was harder than he’d ever been, his erection straining against his costume and pressing into the soft warmth of the Titnotist’s thighs. She began to knead and massage them a little more firmly, the helpless hero’s mouth opening slackly as he processed the mesmerising sight. “It’s around this time that they realise that not only is submission inevitable, but it’s also the only thing they’ve ever wanted. They realise that they want to worship my hypnotic breasts more than anything in the world, and they know that worshipping them means submitting to them. They know that worshipping them means accepting that they have been Titnotised.” As she spoke, she began to draw slow circles around her areolas with her fingertips drawing his attention to her firm, pert nipples and eliciting a low moan from her captive hero. “And you will worship my tits Sparrowhawk.”

The Titnotist stopped her mesmerising ministrations and leaned forward, placing a hand on the floor either side above Sparrowhawk’s head. Her breasts were now hanging directly above his face, the only thing he could see. She began to sway and gyrate again, once more sending them into captivating circular motions. “You will watch my tits.” Around and around, so big, so beautiful. She inched them slightly lower. “You can’t resist my tits.” They came lower still, moving around and around, her perfect breasts just inches away from his face.

“You will worship them.” The Titnotist shifted down slightly, bringing her hypnotic tits to brush against the slack, open mouth of her captive hero. Her firm nipples ran over his lips. “Worship and submit.”

Sparrowhawk broke. His lips latched onto her perfect breasts and he ran his tongue over her firm nipple, revelling in the taste of his own submission. Reverentially he licked, sucked and squeezed, worshipping the mesmerising breasts that had captured him so completely. “I told you this would happen Sparrowhawk.” She gloated, gently replacing one nipple with the other. “I told you that you couldn’t resist my tits. But you didn’t listen. They never listen, but it doesn’t matter in the end.”

The Titnotist knew that Sparrowhawk was well past fighting her now. While the fledgling hero had displayed an impressive amount of willpower early on, it hadn’t been beyond what she had accounted for. In truth, she would have been disappointed if the protege of the great Falcon hadn’t put up some sort of fight. At the end of the day though, the hero’s fate was sealed the moment he proved unable to stop thinking about her enchanting breasts. And she hadn’t yet met a man who could. No, Sparrowhawk was hers now, as evidenced by the way his mouth had not ceased their worship. Hers to do with as she wished.

“The more you worship, the more you submit, and the more you submit, the sleepier you become. Feel your eyelids getting so heavy now, so sleepy as you submit. Feel them getting heavier and heavier, as they close in 3...2...1...and closed for me now as you sleep and submit.” Leaning back, she admired her latest acquisition, soon to be her first hero turned tit-slave. Sparrowhawk’s mouth remained slack and open and his eyes were closed as she removed the mask from the top half of his face. He was younger than her, perhaps 21, with a strong, handsome face. She stood up, admiring his toned body. The result of countless hours of training, she thought, none of which helped him against her hypnotic tits. God she could get used to this feeling, having some of the city’s most powerful heroes helpless before her. And she fully intended to.

“Can you hear me Sparrowhawk?”

The reply was a monotone “Yes.”

“Open your eyes and follow my instructions. Stand up.” The hero got up slowly, his eyes blinking but his body remaining slack and loose. “Take off your costume.” Again he complied without a word, stripping out of his costume until he was stood in just his underwear, a raging erection now making a tent. “All of it.” And then his manhood stood rigidly to attention in the brisk night air. The Titnotist smiled at the sight, satisfied at her prize. “Now sit on the chair behind you and close your eyes.”

Once Sparrowhawk was seated, the voluptuous villainess strode forward, parting his legs gently and kneeling between them, her heavy breasts hanging just above his cock. She had decided to have some fun with her new toy. “Now Sparrowhawk, I’m going to give you one last chance to escape. When I snap my fingers, you are going to open your eyes and wake up completely from my Titnosis. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Came the reply and her fingers snapped. Sparrowhawk’s eyes opened blearily and he managed “What the fuck?” as his mind raced to analyse the situation.

He was sat on a metal chair in what appeared to be a warehouse. The Docks, he thought, the case. Kneeling in front of him was a beautiful blonde woman with the biggest, most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. It was a trap, he remembered, and she was the Titnotist. Her tits were hypnotic. And he was naked, and his cock was rock hard. And her tits were hypnotic, and they were hanging just above his cock. Her tits were hypnotic, and he’d been sucking them. Her tits were hypnotic, and he’d been Titnotised. “Oh fuck.”

“Oh not just yet.” Came the reply. “I’ve decided to give you a second chance Sparrowhawk. A second chance to escape my Titnosis.” She began to sway gently back and forth, softly bouncing her breasts just above his cock. His eyes were riveted to them already. “My hypnotic tits are going to fuck your cock. My hypnotic tits are going to fuck your mind. And when they make you cum, they will own both your cock and your mind. You will belong to me, you will be my obedient tit-slave.” Her mesmerising breasts inched lower, swaying back and forth until they were mere millimetres away from his straining, throbbing cock. “All you have to do, Sparrowhawk, is not cum. Resist my hypnotic tits, refuse to succumb to my hypnotic tit-fuck and you can walk out of here. It’s that simple. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” His reply was automatic and unbidden, eliciting a grin from his captor, not that he could see, staring as he was at her swinging breasts.

“Very good.” The Titnotist purred as she sped up her swaying slightly, increasing the speed of her breasts’ mesmerising motion. They remained just above his cock, and she could feel the frustration building inside him. “You know what’s going to happen if you don’t move.” Her warning went unheeded, as she knew it would, and she lowered her breasts so that they brushed over the head of his cock as they swung. A low, involuntary moan escaped his lips at the sensation. She continued, gradually raising them before lowering them slightly more every time, administering her exquisite torture until eventually her full breasts were gently batting his cock around as they swung. She gave him another warning. “If you don’t do anything, I’m going to have to wrap my hypnotic tits around your cock.”

No response again. The Titnotist was as good as her word, pushing her breasts together and wrapping them around his engorged manhood. She felt a shudder run up the hero’s body, and he let out a sharp exhalation of breath. His cock was completely engulfed, trapped by their monumental size and exquisite softness. She squeezed them together and began to move them up and down his cock. As he stared, enraptured by the sight of it disappearing and reappearing between her enormous breasts, he understood that he never had a chance, that submission to the Titnotist was inevitable. She skillfully pushed and squeezed, delivering wave after wave of unimaginable arousal.

“Oh dear. You’re not doing very well are you? Remember, once you cum, you’re mine.”

Sparrowhawk didn’t really care anymore, lost in the embrace of her hypnotic tit-fuck, overwhelmed by the irresistible power of her Titnosis. He knew that he had lost, he knew that he would cum, and he knew that he would be her tit-slave. He didn’t care. The only thing he cared about were those perfect breasts, and how they were massaging his helpless cock.

“Poor little Sparrowhawk. Not how you imagined your first mission would go. I bet you thought you’d solve the case, beat the bad guys and get called a real hero. And now you’re here. Helpless before my hypnotic tits, unable to stop them as they fuck you into submission.” She shifted slightly, somehow bringing a whole new level of intensity to the mind-melting tit-fuck. His thoughts were growing less coherent with each second that her mesmerising breasts were wrapped around his manhood. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Give in to me.” Another squeeze, another step closer. “Submit to me.” His cock shuddered, trapped between her hypnotic tits, just like his mind. “Cum for me.” A command, and one final squeeze. Sparrowhawk moaned as the largest orgasm of his life flowed through his cock, erupting out from her cleavage and spurting into the air. “Cum for me.” She continued her tit-fuck, drawing out another fountain. Sparrowhawk felt a wave of pleasant exhaustion wash over him. “Cum for me.” One final spurt, deftly drawn out by her incredible breasts, now splattered in his cum. He felt his mind slowing down as another irresistible wave of exhaustion threatened to drag him under.

“Sleep for me, tit-slave.”

His eyes closed.

The Titnotist released the semi-erect cock from her enormous breasts, taking slow deep breaths to master her exhilaration. Everything had gone according to plan. Her first encounter with a hero had left nothing to chance, and she now had a Titnotised Sparrowhawk. She had played it safe, making sure that she lured in someone without any special powers, albeit someone with the kind of education most heroes would kill for. She knew that her powers worked on regular people, after all she had carefully created a network of tit-slaves to ensure that she would never want for anything. This, though, this was a different world. Deep down she knew that, given enough time, she could have any hero in the world helpless before her hypnotitc tits.

But that kind of thinking belonged in the future, in the careful plans and schemes that she would soon return to. For now though, she fully intended to savour her triumph, to savour her captive crime-fighter. She looked down at Sparrowhawk, slumped, sleeping and slack-jawed before her. She felt the exhilaration build again. The night was still young, after all.

“Open your eyes my little Titnotised superhero, open your eyes and stare at my beautiful breasts.”