“And you found this all on the internet?” Rose asked, genuine curiosity on her face as she stroked Lynn’s hair while the two cuddled in front of the television.

“Yes, it’s all there. You can find nearly anything online if you look hard enough,” Lynn explained.

“But an induction tape? Seems dodgy to me. What if they played one while you were looking it up and you became a slave or something?”

Lynn smiled, amused at Rose’s clear agitation over the matter. Ironic, considering that’s exactly what she’d done to her—but that hardly mattered now.

“Then I suppose we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Lynn said. “Anyways, the one I used on you was cut up into a bunch of different pieces for convenience. I took out most of the subliminal messages that would have made you into some kind of drone and added in my own.”

“Thank god for that,” Rose muttered, clutching the brunette closer. “What other parts does it have? I don’t think Jasmine will want a massage—she’s not all that comfortable getting all touchy-feely with people.”

Lynn already knew that—it had been one of the first things that she’d learned upon meeting the twins. Luckily, she’d already planned for the event.

“Well,” she began, smiling deviously. “like I said, the tape has multiple parts. If we can get her to watch the visual, it’ll work even better than the music did on you. We just have to turn the tape off in the middle, since the physical copy can’t get spliced up like I can with my music player.”

Squirming in her arms, Rose exclaimed, “I can’t wait to do this! It was so lovely just letting go, Lynn. I want Jasmine to know how it feels!”

“Soon,” Lynn grinned, throwing her leg over the ravenette’s, straddling her. “better things to do right now, while she’s out running around.”

Rose grinned back, and all thoughts of Jasmine’s induction were lost in the throes of ecstasy.

Jasmine sat down with a huff on the couch, limbs sighing with relief as they were granted a respite from the day’s labors. Her schedule for the day was packed—the inevitable result of her having too much energy and not enough time in the day to get rid of it all. She woke, showered, ate, and departed for work before getting home mid-afternoon to spend the next several hours exercising her body into a haze of exertion so that, when darkness fell, she could close her eyes and actually sleep.

When she missed out on her exercise, her nights would be spent staring at the ceiling, thinking; waiting for sleep to overtake her senses and deliver her to the next day. Then the next day would be filled with fatigue, beginning a hateful cycle that resulted in her crashing miserably on the weekend.

She didn’t appreciate much of anything that interrupted her schedule, but there were exceptions.

Very few exceptions, like her sister, her friends, and the occasional fun excursion for the sake of her sanity.

Today, however, nothing had broken the carefully planned monotony and she was now plenty prepared for some pleasant bedrest after her dinner finally finished heating up.

Her best friend, Lynn, had loaned her a tape she said that Jasmine might enjoy watching. Supposedly, it was good for watching just before sleep; to help with insomnia or some such. Jasmine had tried several iterations of music and visual images to help her problem, but in the end, she often just had too much energy not to burn off and didn’t bother.

The screen flickered to life, revealing the soothing image of some far-off vale, untouched by humans and beautiful to behold. Trees covered the area like a carpet, winds sweeping through the vale and shifting the tree tops around, creating patters of movement that drew the eye and made one marvel at the natural wonder of the world.

Jasmine sighed. Boring.

She could at least enjoy the music. She and her sisters all enjoyed music that followed a more soothing direction—none of the heavy and loud noise that some of their friends favored. She glanced over to the kitchen to see that there was ten minutes to go on the oven’s pre-heat setting, and shifted on the couch for a more comfortable position. No point in finding something different if she would have to interrupt herself. She’d just watch the tape.

She watched the wind bend the trees more, idly noting patterns as they appeared in the scenery while she enjoyed the melody that graced her ears. Sometimes, a few would stick out. A perfectly straight line that made her squint to make sure her eyes hadn’t fooled her. It was enough to keep her attention, though it was hardly mentally strenuous.

Jasmine frowned; that was impossible.

The treetops had all bent, seemingly from one point, outwards towards the vale’s perimeter, in a perfect circle. Wind didn’t work that way, so what caused it?

The event repeated again soon after, and she watched the edge of the circle as it grew larger. At least this was interesting. As it occurred again, she leaned back in her seat and stopped focusing on one edge, taking in the pattern as a whole—a perfect circle diffusing out to the edge of the screen.

After the pattern repeated more than a dozen times, she realized that whoever had created the video had edited the pattern to appear, probably using thousands of hours of recorded footage—all to capture winds blowing in different directions, all blended together to form the illusion that it was one event.

It was fascinating. As the oven dinged pleasantly to signal its readiness, Jasmine decided to wait on dinner while she tried to find a flaw in the seemingly pristine editing.

She found none, though she watched the pattern dozens upon dozens of times. As her observations grew more intent, she found herself sitting up straighter from her relaxed slouch, leaning forward slightly as she watched the circles as they grew more frequent. The wind couldn’t possibly bend the trees in such a way, nor so often.

Her mind rejected it, though she determinedly continued to watch the image—as if to burn into her mind that what she was seeing was happening despite the logical misgivings.

The music had—unnoticed by Jasmine—begun to synchronize with the pulse of the circular pattern. With each smooth note, a new repetition began in the pattern, all growing larger and larger as they drifted languidly towards the edge of the screen.

Jasmine dimly recognized the effect that it had—as her gaze narrowed to a fine point on the center of the circle, trying to discern the origin, her peripheral vision made it seem like she was moving downwards into the pattern, growing closer to the treetops that grew ever blurrier, until detail was all but vanished from the image.

All that remained was the pattern of circles that commanded her attention. Jasmine’s stomach voiced a complaint that her dinner was yet unmade, that the hour was growing later, and that she had sat there for over an hour examining the fascinating pattern before her wide-open eyes. She ignored it. She knew with certainty that hunger was unimportant when she should be watching the pattern.

The illusion of movement was powerful. Jasmine felt adrift in the middle of an ever-deepening pit, sinking deeper with each repetition of the circles as she followed their beginnings to the roots. Her body was in a freefall, but felt light as a feather as she floated tranquilly deeper and deeper into the image.

There were no worries. The excess energy that normally suffused her fit body was nowhere to be found. She was relaxed and enthralled by the endless repetition of the pattern.

Jasmine smiled dreamily as the worth of the tape impressed itself on her being. She would watch this every night before falling asleep; it would help her far better than any of her grating regimes. She loved this feeling of peaceful lethargy; of being able to ignore the pressing needs of her day and letting go of all thoughts.

She didn’t need to think. She only needed to follow the circles as they guided her deeper into this place of beautiful relaxation.

Her thoughts—even the background observations she always made subconsciously—became slower and less pressing, as though they had been layered with the softest of cottons. She felt deafened to them. They didn’t matter.

All that mattered was going deeper.

Suddenly the music stopped playing, and Jasmine’s mind, vacant of all thought, went still as she remained deep in the grip of the pattern. The caress of the music on her mind had been soothing, filling her with whispers and promises and new truths to follow; its silence might have made Jasmine feel a shred of discontent if she were in any state to feel such.

She just stared ahead, emerald green eyes wide—seeing only the pattern, not the screen, not the trees, not the vale or the room around her. If the lights had been turned out and everything plunged into the blackest of night, she would still drift deeper into the beautiful pattern as it played forever through her empty mind.

“Do you hear my voice, Jasmine?” Lynn asked from where she stood just behind the couch, remote in hand. She’d ended the audio before it could re-write her friend into the mindless drone the tape promised to create. The trance was what she wanted, and now Jasmine’s wide-open, receptive mind was hers to mold as she pleased. Rose was at her side, eyes dreamy as she recounted her own induction, the music—so intimate to her deepest thoughts—singing to her as she quietly hummed along, swaying back and forth.

“Yes,” Jasmine said, monotone.

“You like my tape, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You love watching my tape.”

“I love watching your tape,” Jasmine replied.

“Do you know what’s happening to you, Jasmine?”

The woman was silent, for a time, before she blankly replied. “No.”

“You’re in a trance right now. You will obey anything you hear,” Lynn told the ravenette, knowing the words were sinking into the core of Jasmine’s being, just like they had Rose’s. She would be far more thorough with Jasmine than she had with Rose—the changes she had enacted on Rose’s mind were only temporary until she had reinforced them later with an even deeper and longer trance.

Jasmine seemed to take this in for a moment, though it made no change to her demeaner as she continued watching to beautiful patter on the screen. “I am in a trance. I will obey anything I hear,” she said, without inflection.

“You will listen to me, Jasmine.”

“I will listen to you.”

“You are in a trance. You will obey anything I say.”

“I am in a trance. I will obey anything you say.”

“You will stop avoiding a relationship with me. You are deeply attracted to me,” Lynn said, fighting down the same glee that suffused her when she had entranced Rose. She didn’t have Jasmine pliant and nude in front of her this time; it was much easier to maintain control, though the sight of her friend helplessly entranced was enough to soak her silken undergarments several times over.

“I will stop avoiding a relationship with you. I am deeply attracted to you,” Jasmine repeated.

“You don’t know why you avoided being in a relationship with me for so long. You don’t want to avoid it anymore,” Lynn said.

“I don’t know why I avoided being in a relationship with you. I don’t want to anymore.”

Lynn licked her lips. This part would likely cause the most hesitation in her friend. “You will not care that Rose is also in a relationship with me. You will not care that she is your sister. You are deeply attracted to Rose. Rose is deeply attracted to you.”

She had already covered this with Rose. The woman had been unable to resist another repetition of the beautiful music as she accepted Lynn’s commandments with utmost sincerity. The younger twin, by the time Lynn had finished with her, had nearly been more excited to include her sister in their relationship as the brunette.

Jasmine was silent for a time, before she spoke again. “I will not care that Rose is in a relationship with us. I will not care that she’s my sister. Rose and I are attracted to each other.”

Lynn frowned lightly at the shift in wording. She had read that this meant that the statements were being better processed—which meant more acceptance. Perhaps a little more.

“It doesn’t matter that Rose is your sister. It is okay to be attracted to your sister,” Lynn reaffirmed.

“It is okay that I am deeply attracted to my sister,” Jasmine repeated.

“What do you feel towards Rose, Jasmine?”

“I am deeply attracted to my sister,” Jasmine said listlessly.

Rose whimpered next to Lynn. Glancing at her, Lynn saw that her lover’s eyes were riveted on the entranced Jasmine, lips wetted and thighs clenched together with longing. Lynn saw that her pupils were dilated—the emerald green irises that accentuated her friend’s features nearly lost in the lust-struck black. Rose was humming quietly, almost incessantly, the tape’s music, and Lynn realized that her friend was nearly as lost in a trance as her sister was despite not having the tape playing for her.

“Jasmine,” Lynn said, stomach fluttering as she realized she’d reached the end. “I want you to come out of the trance. You will remember what we talked about during your trance. You will not worry that you were in a trance. You liked being in a trance. You are relaxed from watching the tape. You will see Rose and I and will feel deeply aroused by us.”

Lynn took a deep breath. “Come out of the trance, Jasmine.”

She flicked off the television entirely, and the pattern disappeared—replaced with a black, blank screen. Jasmine’s eyes fluttered shut, dry from so much staring, before they opened languidly.

The woman’s stomach rumbled, and she glanced to the side at the oven (Lynn had turned it off long before), and saw the two of them behind her.

Jasmine’s quick intake of breath, as well as the pink blush that instantly suffused her cheeks, was all that Lynn needed before she navigated her way around the couch, straddled the ravenette, and crushed her lips to hers.

Immediately, the brunette deepened the kiss as one of Jasmine’s hands tangled in her hair—pushing her face closer to hers—while the other gripped the fabric of her tank top from behind.

The couch depressed as Rose reclined at the other end watching the two, eyes dark and avid as she absently played with her body.

Lynn’s body was on fire, the blaze beginning and spreading from the soft lips pressed against hers as their tongues dueled for dominance. Sitting in Jasmine’s lap, she reveled in the power that her position gave her, attacking from above while Jasmine fought her off with delicious skill.

Suddenly Lynn was airborne, the ravenette’s practiced strength flipping her over with little visible effort. Lynn moaned, now the subject of Jasmine’s riposte from above as she straddled the brunette on the couch.

Then her lips were gone. Lynn’s eyes fluttered open as she caught her breath, the pressing need of oxygen in her lungs of little concern to her while Jasmine occupied her attention.

She caught her breath; Rose had gripped the hem of Jasmine’s tank top and was pulling it insistently up her torso, revealing miles of smooth, mouthwatering flesh to her greedy eyes. Lynn reached out to caress the lithe muscle of Jasmine’s abdomen, reveling in the firm, toned flesh under her fingertips.

Her fingers travelled upwards as Rose tossed the tank top out of sight, slipping under the flexible sports bra to cup two firm, perky breasts while Rose fumbled with the clasp. Jasmine’s eyes were closed; she mewled like a kitten under Lynn’s ministrations. Her hands clenched and relaxed at her sides.

Then Jasmine was nude from the waist up, bra joining the tank top elsewhere, her beauty a mirror for Rose’s as the twins locked lips. Lynn watched in fascination as the two identical faces of her best friends moved in synchrony while Rose pulled her sister back on top of her. Jasmine quickly flipped over and showed Lynn her back as she dipped her head to capture her twin’s lips again.

Lynn ached to run her fingers up Jasmine’s spine, but she had a better idea. The room echoed with the sound of her footfalls as she ran into Rose’s room to retrieve some of the ravenette’s personal effects, stripping off clothes as she went.

“Fuck, Jasmine,” Rose whimpered as her sister layered kisses down her jaw to her neck, nibbling the pale, smooth column of flesh before pressing her lips to one spot and sucking harshly. Her hands trembled on Jasmine’s shoulders.

The elder sister’s hands were busy at work. Rose had already stripped to nothing while Jasmine and Lynn had been otherwise engaged—Jasmine’s sports shorts were the last article of clothing not sitting in a wrinkled pile on the floor by this point—and now her sister’s fingers were showing her just how skilled they were in the art of driving her to distraction, one cupping and massaging a perfectly perky breast, the other teasing and testing her dripping slit.

“Here, Jasmine,” Lynn grinned, seeing the twins in their debauchery. In her hands was one of Rose’s toys—shown to and sampled by her the night before. Jasmine took it without moving away from the growing hickey she was cultivating, and began rubbing it up and down Rose’s lower lips to coat it in a layer of her juices. Rose panted from the sensation of cool silicon on her, squirming below Jasmine.

Finally, Jasmine was satisfied with her work and detached from Rose’s neck, grinning wickedly at the rapidly darkening bruise forming there.

“You’re mine, little sister,” she purred, pressing harder with the dildo. Rose whimpered. “Right?”

“Ah, ah, y-yes!” Rose whined. “Yours! Just fuck me already! Please!”

“Good girl,” Jasmine crooned, slipping the toy into Rose. Her slick pussy accepted with cock inside with a hungry slurp, followed by Rose’s mixed grunts and moans as she rolled her hips to the hard rhythm Jasmine set for her.

The ravenette turned her dark eyes to Lynn, who watched their actions with hunger while her fingers danced in between her thighs. “I never knew my little sister was so eager to be dominated like this,” she commented drily, as if she weren’t pleasuring the woman in question with brutal efficiency. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

Lynn shook her head. “She’s been like this without me suggesting anything. I just got rid of her inhibitions towards me,” she said. “You should go harder than that though.”

Jasmine smiled beatifically. “Gladly.”

The ravenette withdrew the toy from Rose—who whined at the loss—and shoved her off the couch to the soft rug below. The elder sister was on top of her twin in only a moment, shoving her knees apart and kneeling in the gap. The toy slipped into Rose once more as Jasmine upped her pace, slamming the toy into Rose in quick motions while the woman panted and thrashed on her sister’s hand.

Lynn crawled over and pressed against Jasmine’s back, slipping her hand into Jasmine’s shorts so she could caress the hot flesh below. Jasmine turned her head to the side so the brunette could pull them into a heated kiss punctuated by Jasmine’s gasps while Lynn’s fingers probed and stroked her.

It wasn’t long before Rose started shaking and whining needily. Lynn disengaged from Jasmine and straddled Rose’s stomach, leaning down to capture her lips in another kiss while she ground her pelvis against her firm flesh. Without the distraction, Jasmine focused her attention on Rose and soon her sister arched, letting out a high, quavering keen as she came on the fake cock and her sister’s fingers.

Jasmine kept moving the dildo in and out of her sister, but slowed down for smooth, languid strokes that prolonged Rose’s ecstasy. Lynn watched avidly as Rose seemed to fall into a trance again; her pupils had dilated massively and she hummed quietly to a tune only she could hear, glassy eyes staring off into nothingness. Her entire body throbbed with pleasure, punctuated by semi-frequent full-body shivers of bliss that left goosebumps racing up Lynn’s body.

She leaned down to whisper into her ear; “You love this feeling. You love being entranced. You want to be entranced as often as you can manage.”

Reinforcing Rose’s trance was certainly an effective way of preventing her from somehow overcoming Lynn’s suggestions. That putting the ravenette under was already enough to make Lynn tingle in delightful ways was only the icing on the cake.

“Now sleep. I want some time with your sister,” Lynn crooned to Rose as her orgasm tapered off. The woman’s eyelids immediately drooped and shut, her chest rising and falling in the familiar rhythm of deep sleep.

Looking back, Lynn was greeted by the sight of Jasmine tossing her shorts and undergarments away, lewdly licking up the length of the dildo, still glistening with Rose’s essence. Jasmine watched Lynn with a predator’s gaze, blatant desire flaring in the emerald depths of her eyes.

Lynn had other ideas, however. It took her only a few seconds to crawl over to a small pile of unassuming straps. It took her longer to configure them around her hips correctly; Jasmine only watched with hungry eyes while she patiently waited for Lynn to finish preparing the harness.

Work complete, Lynn got to her feet, the harness around her hips supporting a proudly jutting silicon cock, perfect for what she had in mind. With a casual flick of her finger, she directed Jasmine to the couch, where the ravenette reclined with the litheness of a cat.

As she let Lynn straddle her, Jasmine dragged her fingers up the fake cock, gripping the tip. “You’re going to fuck me with this, Lynn?” she cooed, her voice unnaturally light. “You’re going to pound me with my sister’s nasty toy?”

The ravenette positioned the tip at her slit as Lynn answered her with a scorching kiss, thrusting her hips forward to sheath herself in Jasmine. She set a neutral pace, allowing Jasmine time to adjust to the dildo’s girth in her. The ravenette wrapped her legs around her waist as they turned to lie lengthwise on the couch, crossing her ankles to allow Lynn no escape.

Lynn slowly upped the pace as time wore on, hips thrusting faster and harder in time with Jasmine’s moans, punctuated by the occasional whimper as she hit a particularly sweet spot.

Jasmine came when Lynn, arms burning from the exertion of holding herself above the ravenette for so long, rolled them off the couch and onto the floor. Jasmine, falling on top, felt the dildo spear up into her depths and crush itself against her cervix. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure sent her into convulsions as she rode her friend through her orgasm, Lynn’s hands holding her hips to keep rhythm.

Jasmine’s mind burned with bliss, pleasure like a freezing river and blazing fire driving her senseless. In the depths of her mind, she became aware of a faint thread of music that lead her mind back into the well of patterns that had earlier entranced her. She didn’t need the video to fall back into the infinite void, her mind sinking deep into a trance, leaving her thoughts one by one on the wayside until she felt empty.

Her body burned, while her mind simply accepted the sensations and let them go, unable to comprehend such ecstasy.

Lynn saw the mix of emotions on her friend’s face. After observing Rose’s reactions, she could only assume that the subliminal messages in the video started to associate extreme pleasure with a trance early in the program, so that each time they experienced orgasm they would fall back into an easily suggestible state for further reinforcement. She smiled; it fit her intentions just fine.

“You love this, Jasmine,” she said languidly, loving the vacant look in Jasmine’s eyes as she mindlessly rode herself into oblivion. “You love being entranced. You want to be entranced often. It feels good to be entranced.”

“I love being entranced,” Jasmine echoed softly. “It feels good.”

Lynn rolled them so that Jasmine was on bottom again. She would enjoy taking her friend for a ride before she let the twins have their way with her.

The brunette internally crowed her triumph. Her plan had worked. The twins were hers, and would be forever.