This is a living nightmare.
I realise with horror that my demotion at the bottom of my own harem has had a much bigger impact on my life, than even my initial setback with Kevin. After all, he was cautious, and I had ways to slow him down and distract him. Interactions between us may have been humiliating, but they were few and far in between.
Now, the three submissives I’ve kept in my harem for years have acquired dominion over me. The three bullies that used to make my life a living hell have acquired dominion over me. Kevin’s instructions explicitly prevent me from hypnotising them back, basically declawing me in their presence.
I am humiliated, thrown around, bossed, bullied and abused, every second of every day… all the while my programmed, low-level arousal buzzes in my ears making it impossible for me to focus.
It’s hard to explain what kind of impact this has on me. There is a practical side: I have less time to myself, less time to develop a counter-strategy against Kevin. I am effectively surrounded by his enforcers, 24/7.
My studies are suffering – although my powers go some way towards alleviating that – and so is my social life. My best friend Sandra must be wondering why I blow her off so often.
If only she knew that it’s because my own lesbian harem has been turned into a vehicle of repression against me… by a man.
But that isn’t the worst of it. No, the worst is… and I hate to admit it… the fear. The regression.
This entire situation is throwing me back to a time before I had my power, or knew how to use it. Back then, I was, well… just a girl. A weak-willed girl who hated bullies. Sarah, Juliet, and Emily metaphorically walked all over me when I first enrolled here. My powers changed that.
Now, I’m back in that place. I’m back to being the powerless girl with the quivering lip and the big teary eyes, whimpering while she gets systematically dismantled by her three tormentors. And to make matters worse, now that they’ve been freed from years spent under my yoke, they have so much payback they want to extract from me…
But not for long, I vow to myself. I will find a way to break out of this nightmare, to set myself free. No matter how scared I am right now, how violated I feel, I’m still the one with the power, and I will reclaim my throne.
Of course, it’s harder to take these musings seriously, as I swish around the cramped accommodation in the humiliating kinky maid outfit that used to be Emily’s. Reversing our roles was the first thing she did following my demotion, and now, most of my daily time that isn’t spent in class sees me perform the role of an obsequious maid.
I serve the girls coffee in the morning, cook for them at every meal, do the dishes and the laundry, scrub the floor on hands and feet. The work is physically tiring, mentally numbing, and the constant buzz of my arousal makes it hard not to feel… perturbed… when Emily makes me act as her footstool while she watches TV, or reads a book.
I look ridiculous in this uniform, a far cry from the confident queen I used to be. I’m objectified, humiliated, on display, proclaiming my sexual servility for all to see. And… it’s kind of hot. I rub my thighs and sigh as I imagine how this must look, a fallen domme maidified and at the feet of her own former maid, and god but it makes me bite my lower lip in frustration.
When I’m not busy cooking or cleaning, I’m usually disciplined by Juliet.
Back when she was a bully, she was by far the least mean of the bunch. When my power developed, I turned her into my sexual partner, ranking far higher than either Emily or Sarah in my harem. If I thought she might return the favour after a fashion, I was wrong.
Kevin has instructed Sarah that Juliet is penultimate in the harem’s rank, below her and Emily but above me. In her role as my direct overseer, it’s Juliet’s responsibility to make sure that I… perform to specification. She likes to use corporal punishment to direct my efforts, and the way my pussy tingles every time she slaps me or brings out the riding crop is greatly undermining my confidence.
She fucks me too, of course, they all do. Whether it’s with strapons or having oral sex performed on them on command, I am essentially on call 24/7 as a lesbian pleasure dispenser for my three bullies. It’s crushing my spirits… and inflaming my cunt.
And then… there’s Sarah.
The arch-bully. The cruel girl whose mocking laughter haunted me before I enslaved her. The queen bee who used to call me Froggy because of my cheeks. Now for all intents and purposes, Kevin’s subdomme, fully on board with the long-term project of, as she calls it, “undykeing me”.
I might spend the day cooking, cleaning and slaving away. I worship the girls’ shoes and feet with my lips and tongue, I resign to my hypnotic instructions when they pull my head between their thighs. But at night, one of two things always happens. Either Kevin comes over to take his dues… or Sarah trains me.
Wearing form-fitting jeans that emphasise her magnificent legs, and the boots that used to be mine, a symbol of the power transfer between us, Sarah is relentless in her breakdown of my defenses. Most nights she’ll have me suck on a dildo, directing me, telling me to go slower or faster, doing her best to suppress my gag reflex. As I gargle and spit around the dildo, my eyes tearing from the intrusion and despair, she will place a booted foot against my neck, plunging me deeper, lashing out at me.
“You’ll never please a man if you don’t learn to suck cock properly, Froggy,” she tells me. “You think Master wants a disrespectful dyke for a slave? Show me, show me how you’ll worship him!”
I’m starting to lose it. My composure is vacillating, and my practical ability to continue fighting back is beginning to dwindle. I have one saving grace, and one alone.
All I need to complete my original plan is a few minutes to myself in the bathroom, each and every day. With the door closed and locked, I can stare at my reflection in the mirror, until the darkness begins to pool in my eyes, and my pupils are set afire with the power of the stars.
My self-programming is coming along. I can’t fight Kevin’s instructions directly, but I can sidestep them. If I try a little harder, I’ll give myself the hypnotic compulsion to flee campus and go back to my parents. That will give me the time and breathing space I need to properly self-hypnotise, over extended periods, without further instructions being added in.
Any damage to my studies can be remedied once I’m back in control. Any attempt by Kevin and my… his… harem to subdue me will fail, once I have the full might of my power at my fingertips. No sunglasses are going to save him, when that happens.
But first, I need to get out of here, and to get there, I need to persist.
And so I sigh, leaning against the mirror, and push the power into my mind.
“I have new instructions for you.”
No, I think to myself, grimacing internally. Not already! I bite my lower lip, thinking. The bastard is growing bolder, more confident. His slow, cautious approach at the beginning has been replaced by eagerness, and why not? He’s seen that the method works, and thinks himself safe.
Kevin’s words resound ominously in my ears, like a bell that’s tolling for me. I’m looking up at Kevin from a kneeling position, which in and of itself is an experience that makes me ball my fists in anger. But this is how we, as his new harem, are supposed to welcome him when he pays us a visit.
Emily and Juliet are fawning over him, simpering and bowing in his presence, while Sarah stands besides me, one booted foot symbolically planted on my shoulder. The rough sole hurts, making my skin twist and chafe, but in my current predicament, that’s the least of my concerns.
I’m not ready. I need more time. If Kevin starts layering in more instructions, closing the loophole, tightening the leash around my neck… all hope might well be lost…
But I have no choice. At his words, Sarah removes her foot, allowing me to get up. She bows her head in deference to her new master, while I follow him docilely into the bathroom. I need to think of something, and I need to do it quickly, before the whole situation spirals completely out of control.
As we stand before the mirror, I take a brief glimpse at Kevin, this short, scrawny wisp of a kid who’s come to ruin and rule my daily life. It makes the humiliation of my reversal all the more galling.
“Go on,” Kevin says, turning away from me. And that’s when I remember something… it takes all my will power to suppress the smirk that threatened to appear on my face.
I take in a deep breath. This is my best chance. With my self-hypnosis sessions, I’ve given myself enough wiggle room that I can try this, but timing will be critical.
Here goes nothing.
My eyes come alive with otherworldly flame, but this time, I don’t give in to the power. I resist it, tensing every muscle in my body, willing my mind to hold the might of the sea at bay, for just one moment.
Even that takes a herculean effort. I resisted fiercely, the first time, but continual exposure to hypnosis – both Kevin’s and mine – has sapped my reserves, my ability to resist the yoke. That worries and scares me, but if I play my cards right, I’ll never have to fight against my own power, ever again.
And that singular moment of resistance is all I need to, at last, make my move.
“I am open and ready to receive instructions.”
I say it in a flat and droning voice, one that I hope sounds convincing, because I really only have one shot at this. I am not, in fact, open and ready to receive instructions. The battle still rages on between my mind, and the surging waves of the sea in storm.
But Kevin doesn’t know that. I spot him turning towards me, towards the mirror, towards my eyes, and the exhilaration I feel is enough to give me the second wind I need to hold on against the power even more. But Kevin, he’s not prepared. He was expecting to find a compliant, drooling lesbian he could shape like putty in his hands.
Instead, he’s found the fire of the stars, staring back at him from the mirror.
Like the very first time he was exposed to my power, he takes a step back, hitting the bathroom wall, gritting his teeth as he tries to resist. But I know resistance is futile, in the end. For me, for him, for all of us. I never understood the meaning of superhuman, until I felt this, the rolling might of the ocean as it slams against the puny thing we humans call a mind.
Kevin begins to relax, his head lolling, like mine. I give in all at once, letting the power claim me completely.
“I am open and ready to receive instructions,” we say together, as the war ends, and the power reigns. Except, there is no one here to provide us with instructions. The unstoppable force and the unmovable object, I guess.
This is naturally part of my plan, because now, all my sessions of self-hypnosis can finally be triggered.
“I am a free woman,” I say, in a monotone mantra. “I bow to no man. Kevin sees that I am free.”
“I…” Kevin stutters, seemingly confused, his mouth opening and closing. Come on, you stupid incel, say it. A few more words, and I will be free!
Then, breath escapes me as something hard and heavy hits me. A flash through the bathroom door – open, I think to myself in dreadful realisation, open and unlocked – as something big slams into me, tackling me to the ground.
That snaps me out of my hypnotic trance, as my body reacts to the shock of physical pain and the outburst of violence.
“I knew you would try something like this!” Sarah says, snarling at me as she wraps her arms around my throat, her legs clamping around my midsection.
“Wha-” I say, still shocked and confused, as Sarah’s hot breath closes in on my ear.
“Crafty, crafty Froggy,” she whispers, tightening her grip on me, making me gasp. “Master is going to punish you so bad for this, you know that, right? You treacherous little dyke!”
I have only seconds to act, I know. If I allow her to regulate my breathing, my strength will disappear, and she will be able to subdue me. Thankfully, the shot of adrenaline is exactly what I need for clarity. So I reach towards her face with my free hands. I grab her hair, pulling viciously, while balling the other hand into a fist, and punching it into her side as hard as I can manage.
With a scream, Sarah’s grip on me loosens, as she scrambles to try and block my hands. That’s exactly the opening I need. I turn about as quickly as I can, launching myself atop her, trying to pin her to the ground. Once again I curse Kevin. If I could use my power now, all it would take would be to lock gazes with Sarah, and it would all be over.
I pin Sarah’s wrists to the ground, riding out her wild bucking as she tries to knock me off. I’m tall and strong for a girl, but Sarah is even taller, and even stronger. Even still, there’s something delicious about feeling her supple body between and beneath my thighs again. Even without her powers, the scared little Froggy girl in me can fight back, it would seem!
She’s not going to spoil my plans and ruin my life. Not today.
Then, Sarah flexes her abs, and hooks her ankles behind my arms. I do my best to grab them, seeking to immobilise them, but in so doing, I have to let go of her wrists, and lose my balance. Sarah exploits this immediately, grabbing my shirt and pulling me to the ground, which I hit with a crunch.
I know this is my moment of maximum danger, so I roll on my back as quickly as I can – only to see a flash of jeans wheeze past me, right before I feel her strong legs wrap around my neck. I flail my arms, but only for a moment – she easily grabs my wrists, and then her thighs clamp down, pressing harshly against my cheeks.
I thrash and buck, doing my best to break free, but… God, she’s so fucking strong. Her face appears right above mine, looking down at me with a predatory smirk. She has me. We both know she has me.
God, why does she look so beautiful when I look at her from this lowly vantage?
I feel like Froggy again. Weak and powerless, pushed around by girls with more grit and, it turns out, more muscles. I’ve gone toe to toe with my arch-nemesis, and she’s put me on my ass.
“No,” I stammer as she repositions herself into a figure-four headscissor, her calf now pressing against my throat. Restricting my air flow. Sapping me of all my strength, and my ability to fight back.
As my desperate prey-like thrashing weakens, my predator feels confident enough to let go of my wrists. Her hands begin to ruffle my hair, caress my face… a promise, and a threat.
Her thigh muscles are still going strong, while I feel as weak and helpless as a little mouse. I stare at her with big, pleading eyes, and I think we both realise what a transformative moment it is.
I, the fallen domme, am staring at her with scared, pleading eyes. I am wordlessly begging her for mercy.
You don’t just do that sort of thing and recover. It flips a switch in your brain, changes you forever. And maybe, it will change Sarah too… and not in ways I’ll find charming.
“Master!” She shouts, which fills me with alarm. It feels like hours, but it’s only likely been a few minutes since Sarah physically subjugated me. Kevin has recovered from trance, and I don’t need him to remove his sunglasses to read the cold fury currently rippling across his face.
“You…” he says, his hands opening and closing, and for a second I’m scared that he’s going to hit me. But he takes a deep breath instead, muttering to himself. “So stupid… should have double-checked…”
Then, his head snaps up.
“Good job, Sarah,” he says. “You did well. So well. Good girl.”
“Thank you, Master,” she says, purring, giving my throat a sharper squeeze to punctuate her statement, making me gasp for air, for freedom, for any balm against the soul-rending humiliation and defeat currently coursing through my decimated body. “Master, are you going to punish this sorry dyke?”
That seems to refocus Kevin’s attention on me. He stares at me coldly, silently through his sunglasses. If only I could speak, I’d tell him to go fuck himself… but in a deferential and respectful manner, of course. This is war. Does he really expect that I’ll just take it lying down, without ever fighting back?
My thoughts are interrupted at the sound of a zipper being pulled.
“Yes I am,” he says, almost absent-mindedly. “Yes, we are. You know Sarah, this is really quite a sight, the way your leg muscles flex when you squeeze her, how… broken she looks in this position. Keep her like that for me, won’t you?”
“Yes, Master,” Sarah says, giggling, slowly rotating her hips so as to grind her crotch into the back of my head. I close my eyes in shame and humiliation at my predicament. Am I really going to be fucked like this, with my own former slave keeping me literally by the throat – with her legs, no less?
Kevin stares at us, the fallen domme and the bully who’s outfought her, gently stroking his cock as he watches my face enveloped by Sarah’s sinuous legs. My eyes widen as he closes in on me, and I’d shake my head and plead, but Sarah’s iron grip on my throat has effectively devoiced me, and her thighs hold my head in place…
I don’t even have the energy to kick as Kevin places himself between my legs, nor would my programming let me, anyway. After all, I’m supposed to comply with a man’s sexual aggression. His hands – wrong and right at once, large and rough, so clearly a man’s hands – fumble with my breasts and my curves, as he presses his erection against my sex.
Nothing about this is hot. Not Sarah scissoring me into submission, not Kevin about to penetrate me with zero foreplay. And yet, my hypno-weakened mind and my enthralled body respond, my hips buck, and to my mortifying shame, I’m lubricated enough for Kevin to effortlessly enter me.
“Yesss,” Sarah says, squeezing her legs even tighter around my neck, making me cough and choke and gasp. “Undyke her, Master. Turn her straight while I watch.”
Kevin twists my nipples as he begins to thrust back and forth as my body submits to his, surrendering, opening, yielding. I can’t believe I’m being fucked like this, with Kevin imposing his will on my defeated cunt, and Sarah literally beating dominance and confidence out of me. One, claiming his manly rights over a woman. The other, putting the upstart Froggy back in her place.
I’m remotely aware of heads poking into the bathroom, inspecting what’s going on. Emily and Juliet, of course. More witnesses to my utter trouncing.
My hypnotically triggered arousal is working overtime to remind me that I’ve been dethroned and demoted, that I’m such a failure that even literal mind control powers weren’t enough to save me, that I’ve still ended up here, being man-fucked and turned into Sarah’s doormat. Trading boots and jeans for a ridiculous maid outfit that makes me look like the sex slave Kevin intends me to be.
A lady turned maid. A lesbian turned straight. A loser, turned winner, turned loser…
“How are you going to punish her, Master?” Sarah asks atop me, her crotch grinding more and more insistently against my neck as she watches Kevin force me to submit.
Kevin’s pace doesn’t slow – he’s getting better at this, I note with distant and half-formed horror – but he looks reflective, lost in thought.
“That will come later,” he says, his breath ragged. “First things first. Serena, you need to always be honest and truthful to me. I want you to confess. You’re going to tell me…” he says, punctuating his words with thrusts deeper into my cunt. “Everything you’ve been up to… everything you’ve been doing in your spare time. Every single plan you have to directly or indirectly undermine my… ownership…”
I close my eyes, struggling to hold back the tears, now thoroughly beaten into submission by my two tormentors. I had my shot, and I blew it. What am I going to do now? Is this to be the end of my independence? Is this a story where the monster wins?
“And then,” he says, pistoning faster in and out of me, smiling at the little yelps coming out of my constricted throats, the desperate little mewls of a submissive girl being fucked. “You’ll tell me everything there is to know so that I can stop you from ever breaking free.”
God, the leash is tightening around my neck, shortening as it loops over and over around his masterful hand, and God, the hypnosis is compelling me to find that hot…
“And then, after we’ve had this conversation,” Kevin says, “we’ll get to your punishment. I won’t design it myself, oh no. I will ask you a simple question, Serena. A question that will destroy you.”
At that moment, as if on cue, Sarah flexes her legs even tighter, as tight as it will go – not tight enough to fully deprive me of air, but tight enough to make me panic. I slap ineffectually at her thighs, a pathetic excuse for resistance that makes me look even more hopelessly weak, like I deserve to be stepped on, to be brought to heel by a stronger girl with her mighty legs.
Simultaneously, Kevin bottoms out inside me, leaning forward, my own broken reflection staring back at me from his sunglasses. The reflection that started all of this. That heralded the beginning of my end.
“My question will be,” he says, panting, clearly struggling to hold himself back from coming inside me – a thought which sends cold shivers rippling down my spine. “What would you consider to be the most sexually humiliating, emotionally devastating punishment I could ever inflict on you? And you will tell me openly and truthfully, because Serena, whatever you do confess…”
His lips are at my ear now, nibbling gently at the lobe, while I crumble under the weight of my own failures, of their own victories.
“… is exactly what I’m going to do to you.”