Chapter 19

You lean forward in your chair, fingers steepled as you study Isabella's tense posture. The trap is set, but first, you need information.

"Before we proceed, Isabella, I'm curious what exactly you think you know about me," you ask, your voice deceptively casual. "And who else might you have shared these... theories with?"

Isabella's eyes dart to Maria, realizing there's no help to be found there. Her slender shoulders stiffen as she takes in Maria's vacant smile and partially unbuttoned blouse. The intelligent young woman's delicate pale skin flushes with anger and fear, her hands trembling slightly in her lap.

"I know everything," she whispers, her voice gaining strength as she speaks. "What you did to Maria, what you're doing to my sister. The hypnosis, the alternate personalities." She glances at Gia, who merely rolls her eyes and examines her manicure with bored indifference. "You're destroying people's lives, turning them into... into sex dolls."

"And who else have you told about these fascinating theories?" you press, noting the way her eyes flick toward her phone before returning to yours.

"No one yet," Isabella admits, her brown eyes blazing with defiance despite her vulnerable position. "But I sent the recording to myself. If anything happens to me, it will be found."

Gia pushes herself off the wall with an exaggerated sigh, the oversized fraternity shirt riding up as she stretches her arms above her head, revealing the curve of her bare buttocks. "God, you're such a drama queen, Isabella," she drawls, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. "Like, nobody's forcing me to do anything. I'm just having fun for once instead of being a boring nerd like you."

Isabella flinches at her sister's words, tears welling in her eyes. "That's not you talking, Giorgia. He's made you think that's what you want."

"It's Gia," her sister snaps, olive-skinned face contorting with irritation. "And you don't know shit about what I want."

You observe this exchange with calculated interest, gathering the information you need. Isabella has evidence, but it's contained. No one else knows yet.

You nod subtly to Gia, signaling her to take the lead. She immediately understands, her eyes lighting up with mischievous glee at the opportunity to torment her sister further.

"Look, Isabella," Gia begins, pushing herself away from the wall and sauntering toward her sister. The fraternity shirt barely covers her curves as she moves, her long tanned legs seeming endless beneath the hem. "You think I'm, like, brainwashed or whatever, but I've never been happier."

She perches on the edge of your desk, crossing her legs deliberately so that the shirt rides up further, revealing the smooth curve where thigh meets hip. "Before, I was so stressed all the time. Volleyball practice, keeping my GPA up, worrying about what everyone thought of me." She tosses her luxurious black hair over her shoulder with a practiced flick. "Now I just... feel good. All the time."

Isabella watches her sister with a mixture of horror and fascination, her intelligent eyes searching for any sign of the Giorgia she knows. "This isn't you," she whispers, her voice cracking. "The sister I know would never dress like that, talk like that. You sound like a... a..."

"A what?" Gia challenges, leaning forward so that the neckline of the shirt gapes open, revealing the swell of her breasts. "A slut? A bimbo? So what if I am? At least I'm getting laid instead of worrying about being perfect all the time." She giggles, the sound light and carefree. "God, the things I did last night... you wouldn't believe how good it felt to just let go."

Isabella's eyes fill with tears. "Giorgia, please. This isn't you. He's done something to your mind."

"It's Gia," she corrects sharply, before her expression softens into something almost sympathetic. "And honestly? Maybe it's not who I was before, but it's who I am now. And I love it." She reaches out to touch Isabella's cheek, her manicured nails grazing the soft skin. "You could be happy too, you know. Bella knows how to have fun. She knows how to feel good."

You turn to Maria, who stands silently behind Isabella's chair, her conditioning holding despite the occasional flicker of awareness in her eyes. "Maria, why don't you tell Isabella how much happier you are now compared to before?"

Maria's eyes widen slightly, a brief flicker struggling beneath the surface before your conditioning reasserts itself. She steps forward, her voluptuous figure drawing Isabella's attention as she moves to stand beside your desk. The fluorescent office lighting catches on her blonde hair, creating a halo effect around her face.

"I used to be so stressed all the time," Maria begins, her voice taking on that breathy quality that emerged after your hypnotic work. Her fingers play with the buttons of her blouse, drawing attention to the generous swell of her breasts. "Always worried about student welfare, ethics committees, paperwork... I never had any fun."

She leans against your desk, crossing her legs so that her tight skirt rides up her thighs. "Now I feel... free. I don't worry about anything anymore." Her tongue darts out to wet her full lips. "I get to feel good all day, every day. The things Dr. Stern has taught me about pleasure..." She trails off, a flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.

Isabella watches Maria with growing horror, her intelligent eyes taking in the vacant expression, the provocative posture, the mindless devotion. "This isn't freedom," she whispers. "He's taken everything from you – your intelligence, your autonomy, your dignity."

Gia laughs, the sound sharp and dismissive. "God, you're such a buzzkill, Isabella. Not everyone wants to be a boring brainiac like you." She stretches languidly, the fraternity shirt riding up to reveal the smooth curve of her ass. "Some of us just want to feel good and look hot."

Maria nods enthusiastically, moving closer to Isabella's chair. "It's true, Isabella. I used to think like you, all worried about 'ethics' and 'professional standards.'" She giggles, the sound disturbingly childlike coming from a woman her age. "But now I understand that serving and feeling good is all that matters. Dr. Stern showed me that."

You watch as Isabella's determination continues to crumble. The combined assault from both Gia and Maria is proving the futility of resistance.

"They're not unhappy," you point out softly. "Quite the opposite. Perhaps you're the one who needs to reconsider what happiness truly means."

You reach for the desk lamp and switch it on, angling it directly toward Isabella's face. The light begins to pulse at a carefully calculated rhythm – not so fast as to be jarring, but slow enough to gradually entrain her brainwaves.

"Isabella," you begin, your voice dropping to a lower, more melodic register, "I want you to focus on the light. Notice how it pulses, how it breathes. Just like you're breathing now. In... and out. In... and out."

Isabella's eyes widen with panic as she realizes what's happening. "No, I won't let you—" She tries to look away, but Maria's hands gently but firmly grip her shoulders, keeping her facing forward.

"You can feel your eyelids getting heavier already," you continue, ignoring her protests. "Each time the light pulses, they grow just a little bit heavier. Each time the spiral turns, your thoughts grow just a little bit quieter."

Gia saunters around to stand beside you, her olive skin glowing in the pulsing light. "Just give in, sis," she purrs, trailing her fingertips along Isabella's rigid arm. "It feels so good to just... let go." The oversized fraternity shirt slips off one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of her breast as she leans down to whisper in her sister's ear. "Bella knows how to have fun. Bella knows how to feel good."

Isabella's resistance is visible – her delicate jaw clenched, her slender fingers gripping the arms of the chair until her knuckles turn white. But the combined assault of the pulsing light, the spiraling screen, your hypnotic voice, and Gia's seductive encouragement begins to take its toll. Her blinking slows, each closure of her eyelids lasting just a fraction longer than the one before.

"That's right," you murmur, watching as her pupils dilate and contract with the rhythm of the light. "You're doing so well, Isabella. So good at following the light, following my voice. Deeper and deeper with each breath."

A tear slips down Isabella's pale cheek as her eyelids flutter, fighting the inexorable pull of your hypnotic technique. "Please... don't..." she whispers, but her voice lacks conviction now, her resistance crumbling as your exceptional skill overwhelms her defenses.

"Bella is waiting just beneath the surface,” You suggest, your voice weaving through her consciousness like silk. When I count to three, Isabella will sleep, and Bella will awaken. One... your mind is opening... Two... Isabella is fading into the background... Three."

"Bella wants to come out and play."

Isabella's body goes slack, her head lolling forward slightly before slowly raising again. When her eyes open, they have a different quality – still the same deep brown, but now with a vacant, pleasure-seeking gleam that wasn't there before.

"Like, hey everyone," she giggles, her voice higher and breathier than Isabella's. She stretches languorously in the chair, her modest sweater suddenly seeming too restrictive as she arches her back. "God, why is everyone being so serious?"

You step back, watching as Bella rises from the chair, her movements more fluid and sensual than Isabella's usual reserved demeanor. She tosses her brown bob with newfound confidence, her eyes wide with delight as she takes in Gia's appearance.

"Oh my God, Gia! You look, like, totally hot!" Bella squeals, her voice higher and breathier than Isabella's scholarly tone. She bounces slightly on her toes, her modest sweater suddenly seeming to accentuate rather than hide her curves. "I can't believe how much fun I've been missing! I can be such a buzzkill sometimes."

Gia's face lights up with recognition, her plump lips spreading into a wide grin as she rushes forward to embrace her sister. The oversized fraternity shirt rides up dangerously high as she moves, revealing the smooth curve of her ass. The sisters collide in a tight hug, their bodies pressing together with none of the earlier tension.

"Like, finally!" Gia exclaims, pulling back to hold Bella at arm's length, examining her with approval. "I've been trying to get you to loosen up forever! We're gonna have so much fun together now that you're not all stuck up about everything."

Maria watches from beside your desk, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she observes the sisters' reunion. She steps forward, her voluptuous figure drawing attention as she moves, the fluorescent light catching on her blonde hair.

"You girls should totally get makeovers," Maria suggests unprompted, already anticipating your plans for them. Her fingers play with the buttons of her blouse, drawing attention to the generous swell of her breasts. "I know this amazing salon downtown. They could, like, totally transform the both of you. Get you some highlights, maybe extensions?"

"OMG, yes!" Bella claps her hands together in delight. "This style is so tragic. I need a complete overhaul."

"I know, right?" Gia agrees, draping an arm around her sister's shoulders. "And after that, there's another party tonight at Theta Chi. You should totally come with me!" She bounces excitedly, the movement causing her breasts to jiggle beneath the thin fabric of the shirt.

You lean back in your chair, watching the three women with satisfaction. "Maria, why don't you take our two lovely ladies shopping for a complete makeover? I think they both need a fresh look to match their new attitudes."

Maria's eyes light up with malicious glee, her conditioning holding firm as she claps her hands together. "And I know exactly where to take them, Doctor." She runs her fingers through her blonde hair, tossing it over her shoulder as she eyes the sisters with barely concealed jealousy. "We'll do a total transformation – hair, nails, clothes, everything."

"Like, I am so ready for this," Bella exclaims, bouncing on her toes with excitement. Her modest sweater shifts with the movement, drawing attention to her slender figure. "Like, I don’t know what I was thinking. All these baggy sweaters and boring jeans." She wrinkles her nose in disgust, running her fingers through her brown bob. "And this hair? So plain."

Gia drapes herself over her sister's shoulders, her olive skin contrasting with Bella's paleness. "We're gonna make you so hot, sis," she purrs, her voice thick with anticipation. "All the boys will be drooling over you tonight at the party." The oversized fraternity shirt slips further down her shoulder, revealing more of her smooth skin.

"I'll have them ready for tonight's party," Maria assures you, her blue eyes gleaming with calculation. "They won't even recognize themselves when we're done." She leans forward, her blouse gaping open to reveal the swell of her enhanced breasts. "What exactly did you have in mind, Dr. Stern?"

"Make them look like the party girls they truly are," you instruct, enjoying the way Bella and Gia giggle in anticipation.

Maria nods, her lips curving into a smile. She turns to the sisters, her voice shifting to a bubbly, excited tone. "Come on, girls! Let's go make you gorgeous!"

As they gather their things to leave, you settle back in your chair, already planning the next phase. With Isabella's consciousness suppressed and Gia firmly in control of Giorgia's body, your experiment is progressing perfectly. Now you need to ensure their new personas become more deeply integrated, more permanent.

The door closes behind the three women, leaving you alone with your thoughts and plans. The party tonight will be the perfect opportunity to reinforce their new identities in a social setting. As well as build upon the waking prison that you’re constructing for them.

With the women gone, you turn to your computer and pull up the video files of Bella's encounter with Professor Whitman. The footage is crisp and clear - high definition evidence of Isabella's alter ego performing explicit sexual acts with a faculty member. You watch as Bella, wearing nothing but a short skirt hiked up around her waist, straddles the middle-aged professor on his office chair, her small breasts bouncing as she rides him enthusiastically.

You make several copies of the incriminating video, storing them on encrypted drives and uploading one to a secure cloud server only you can access. Insurance against Isabella's potential rebellion. The blackmail material is potent - career-ending for both the professor and devastating for Isabella's academic reputation. You note the timestamps, ensuring you have documented when and where the encounter took place.

As you work, your phone buzzes with a message from Maria: "Getting the girls done now. Bella's getting highlights and extensions. Gia's going platinum blonde with pink tips. You won't recognize them when we're done." Attached is a photo of the sisters in salon chairs, their faces alight with vapid excitement as stylists work on their hair.

You smile, imagining how the physical transformation will further cement their new identities. Appearance and identity are intrinsically linked - with each change to their exterior, their interior personas will strengthen. The makeovers will serve as powerful anchors for their bimbo personalities.

You send a quick reply: "Perfect. Make sure they're dressed appropriately for tonight's party. I want them to make an impression." Then you return to securing your leverage, methodically organizing the blackmail material that will ensure Isabella's continued compliance.

Another message arrives from Maria, this one a video. Bella is giggling as a stylist applies makeup, transforming her scholarly face into something more provocative. "Like, I can't believe I never wore makeup," she says to the camera, her voice high and breathy. "I was, like, totally wasting this face!"

The camera pans to Gia, who's examining her newly platinum blonde hair with pink tips. "We're gonna be the hottest bitches at the party tonight," she declares, tossing her new hair dramatically. "All the boys are gonna want us."

You close the video with satisfaction. Everything is proceeding exactly according to plan.