Joanne sat in her armchair, legs crossed, watching Millie fold laundry on the living room floor. It was a Tuesday evening. Millie had just gotten home from her shift at the restaurant, still wearing her black work pants and white button-up shirt, though she had kicked off her heels by the door. Her feet were bare, her toes painted a light pink and she hummed something under her breath as she matched socks.

"Long day?" Joanne asked.

Millie looked up, smiling. Her brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling around her face. "The worst. Some guy sent back his steak three times. Three times, Jo. I swear to God, I wanted to dump the wine on his head."

Joanne laughed. "You should have."

"I need the tips." Millie sighed and went back to folding, picking up a pair of Joanne's underwear, red lace, and setting it in the pile. "How was your day? Any nefarious mind control?"

Joanne felt a flutter in her stomach at the casual joke. Millie had no idea. None. "A few clients. Nothing exciting."

This was how it had started. Four years ago, when Joanne was getting her certification, she had needed practice subjects. Millie had volunteered, laughing about how she wanted to quit smoking anyway, how it would be fun to see if hypnosis actually worked. Joanne had used the red gem then, a glass paperweight she had found at a thrift store, nothing special except for the way it caught the light. She had swung it in front of Millie's face, watching her eyes track it, watching her breathing slow.

The smoking thing had worked. Millie had quit within a couple weeks. But Joanne had kept practicing. She had layered in suggestions, deep ones, about obedience and pleasure and memory. At first it had been clinical, just testing the limits. Then one night, Joanne had been drunk and horny and lonely, and she had shown Millie the gem and told her to strip. Millie had done it, smiling blankly, her eyes unfocused. 

Joanne had made her kneel. Made her lick.

And after, she had told Millie to forget. To forget everything, to remember only that they had watched a movie and fallen asleep on the couch.

Millie had woken up the next morning with no memory, just a vague headache and a wetness between her legs that she had attributed to a weird dream.

Now, four years later, the conditioning was complete. Millie did not need induction anymore. She did not need the swinging gem or the soft voice counting down. She just needed to see it. One glance at the red glass and she slipped under, her mind opening like a flower, ready for whatever Joanne wanted to plant there.

Joanne reached into her pocket. Her fingers closed around the cool glass. She was wet already, had been since Millie walked through the door, since she smelled the faint trace of kitchen grease and perfume that clung to her roommate's skin.

"Millie," Joanne said softly.

Millie looked up.

Joanne held out the gem. It sat in her palm, catching the lamplight, glowing like a drop of blood.

Millie's eyes focused on the gem and her face went slack instantly. Her hands stopped moving. The sock she had been holding fell to the carpet. Her mouth opened slightly, her eyes glazing over, fixing on the red light.

"That's it," Joanne said, standing up. She walked over to where Millie knelt on the floor. "Deep now. All the way down. You know the way down so well."

"Yes," Millie whispered. Her voice was empty, hollow, eager.

Joanne felt her own clit throb against her underwear. She was wearing yoga pants and a tank top, no bra. She reached down and pulled the elastic band from Millie's hair, letting the brown hair fall around her shoulders. Then she took Millie's chin in her hand and tilted her face up.

"How do you feel, Millie?"

"Good," Millie said. "Empty.."

"You always want to please me," Joanne said. "That's your purpose. Your only purpose when you see the gem is pleasure. Isn't that right?"

"Yes. Pleasure is my purpose."

Joanne let go of her chin and pulled her tank top over her head. Her breasts fell free, her nipples hard and tight. She pushed her yoga pants down, stepping out of them, kicking them aside. She was completely naked now, her pussy shaved smooth, glistening with her arousal.

"Touch me," Joanne commanded.

Millie's hands came up automatically. Her fingers found Joanne's hips first, tracing the bones, then moved inward. One hand slid between Joanne's legs, cupping her mound. The other came up to her breast, thumb brushing over the nipple. Millie knew just how Jo liked being touched after all these years of conditioning. Joanne wondered sometimes if she'd ever be able to live without.

"Inside," Joanne said, spreading her legs wider. "Put your fingers inside me."

Millie obeyed. Two fingers slid into Joanne's wet cunt, pushing deep, curling upward to find the spot that made Joanne gasp. Her other hand pinched and rolled Joanne's nipple, rougher than Joanne would have done herself, but the roughness was good, the mindlessness of it, the way Millie was just a doll following commands.

Joanne came hard, grinding down on Millie's hand, her juices running down Millie's fingers, dripping onto the carpet. She held Millie's hair tight, riding the orgasm out, keeping her eyes open so she could watch Millie's face, watch the blankness there, the total submission.

When she finished, she let go of Millie's hair. She stepped back, her legs shaking slightly. Millie's hand was still extended, wet with Joanne's cum, waiting for the next command.

"Lick your fingers clean," Joanne said.

Millie brought her hand to her mouth and sucked her fingers between her lips, one by one, cleaning them thoroughly, her tongue swirling around each digit. Her eyes never left the gem, still glowing in Joanne's other hand.

"Good girl," Joanne said. "Now take off your clothes."

Millie stood up slowly, her movements mechanical. She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a plain white bra underneath. She dropped the shirt on the floor. She unzipped her pants and pushed them down, stepping out of them. She wore white cotton panties, simple and practical, the kind she bought in packs of six at the department store. The crotch was dark with wetness.

"Your bra too. Everything."

Millie reached back and unhooked her bra. Her breasts fell free, small and pale with pink nipples that were hard and erect. She pushed her panties down. Her pussy was trimmed but not shaved, a neat dark strip of hair above swollen lips that were slick with her own arousal.

"Kneel again," Joanne said.

Millie knelt. Her knees hit the carpet with a soft thud. She looked up at Joanne, waiting.

Joanne walked around her, looking at her, admiring the curve of her spine, the roundness of her ass. She stopped behind Millie and reached down, sliding her hand between Millie's legs from behind. Millie gasped, a soft, empty sound, as Joanne's fingers found her clit.

"You're so wet," Joanne whispered in her ear. "So fucking wet for me. You want to cum, don't you?"

"Yes," Millie breathed. "Please. Want to cum for you."

"Touch yourself," Joanne said. "Show me how you touch yourself when you're alone."

Millie's hand flew to her pussy immediately. She spread her legs wider, giving Joanne a full view, and began to rub her clit in fast, desperate circles. Her other hand went to her breast, pinching her nipple hard, rolling it between her fingers.

"Look at me," Joanne commanded. "Keep your eyes on the gem."

Millie's eyes snapped back to the red glass that was back in Jo's hand. She stared at it, unblinking, her hand moving faster and faster between her legs. Her hips were bucking now, fucking against her own fingers, her mouth open in a silent moan.

"You're going to cum hard," Joanne told her. "The hardest you've ever cum. And when you do, you're going to scream my name. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Millie gasped. "Scream your name. Cumming. Joanne, I'm cumming..."

She broke apart, her whole body shaking, her back arching, her hand a blur on her clit. The scream ripped out of her, raw and loud: "Joanne! Oh fuck, Joanne!"

Joanne watched her ride it out, watched her twitch and spasm, her juices running down her thighs, her face contorted in pleasure that she would not remember, that would be gone as soon as Joanne commanded it.

When Millie finally slumped forward, breathing hard, her hand falling away from her spent pussy, Joanne stood up. She walked over and crouched down in front of her, holding the gem between them, letting Millie's glazed eyes focus on it.

"Listen to me," Joanne said softly. "Listen carefully."

Millie nodded, her head lolling slightly.

"You did very well. You're such a good girl. Such a good little slut for me. But now it's time to wake up. When you wake up, you won't remember any of this. You won't remember taking off your clothes. You won't remember licking my pussy. You won't remember touching yourself or cumming. It will be like it never happened. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Millie whispered. "Forget everything."

"But one more thing," Joanne said, her voice dropping lower, more insidious. "The pleasure you felt tonight, the orgasm you just had, you will never remember it. Any pleasure you felt when you touch yourself, or when you cum, it will flow from you mind like water. You'll know you did it, but you won't remember the feeling. The pleasure belongs to me now. I own it. I own your pleasure."

"Yes," Millie said, her face serene, accepting. "You own my pleasure. I won't remember."

"Good girl," Joanne said. She leaned forward and kissed Millie's forehead. "Now get dressed."

"Yes."

Millie dressed as robotically as she has stripped, putting on clothes with a slow but steady pace. And when she was all put back together and back on the couch, Jo counted her back up.

Millie blinked. Her eyes cleared. She looked around, confused, then down at herself. The sock she'd been folding was on the floor, but the heat in her body has roared to life as if in an instant. She felt flushed and soar and so very, very wet.

"Oh," she said, her face flushing red. She grabbed the sock from the floor and held it against her chest, as if covering herself. 

"What's up Mil?"

Millie stammered, trying to find the words for the sudden strangeness in her body. If she didn't know any better, she'd say this was how she felt after a good fingering in her bed. But... She'd been here with Jo. And she'd remember something like that.

"I think I need to shower or something," she said, letting the sock drop for a second time. "I feel kind of light-headed."

"Okay," Joanne said with feigned concern. "I hope you feel better quick."

Millie nodded and hurried to her room, her pants dampening from the residual wetness between her trembling legs as she walked away. Joanne watched her go, smiling, her fingers tight around the glass.

The next morning, Millie woke up late. She didn't have to work until the evening shift, so she had planned to spend the day cleaning the apartment and maybe going to the gym. She lay in bed for a while, scrolling through her phone. She was getting a little horny, and so she clicked over to a porn site she liked to visit then...

She got up to pee.

As she sat on the toilet, she noticed another ache between her legs. A deep, satisfied soreness, the kind that came from being fucked hard or from a very intense orgasm. She touched herself experimentally, noticing the sensitivity. And she was wet, her panties soaked through.

She frowned, trying to remember. Had she masturbated last night? She remembered folding laundry. She remembered Joanne being there. Then its like there was something missing. She had dropped that sock and felt like she'd run a marathon. She had showered, she remembered that. She had stood under the hot water and touched herself, trying to relieve the tension that had come on so suddenly. Her hands had played with her tits. Her fingers had dipped into her pussy.

And then she'd had been in bed. Had she... She didn't remember turning off the water or getting her towel. And this morning. She'd felt the need. She'd opened that page. She'd lifted her night shirt up over her chest.

And now here she was. Sensitive and sore.

She walked out of the bathroom and glanced at her bedroom area.

But her vibrator was on the nightstand, and when she picked it up, the shaft was slick with her juices, the smell of her arousal strong and unmistakable. And new. She had come. She must have come. Recently! But she couldn't remember it. She couldn't remember the orgasm at all.

Millie felt a flutter of panic in her chest. 

She finished in her room and pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, not bothering with a bra. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric, sending little sparks of sensation through her that made her heart run a little quicker. She walked out to the kitchen, where Joanne was eating yogurt at the counter.

"Morning," Joanne said. She was wearing a sundress, thin cotton that showed the outline of her nipples. She looked fresh and awake, her hair still damp from her own shower.

"Hey," Millie said. She poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. "Jo, you took some med school classes. Can I ask you something weird?"

"Always."

"Is it normal to not remember things? Like, little things?"

Joanne looked at her, her expression concerned, caring. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Millie struggled to put it into words. "The past day or so I feel like I'm missing time."

"In what way? Anything specific? Be honest with me."

Another of Jo's little triggers. It caused Millie to spill everything in her head without thinking.

"I mean last night on the couch I felt like I'd just finger fucked myself but that couldn't be and then when I went to shower I tried to do it for sure and then I was suddenly in my bed and then this morning my vibrator is wet and I feel like I used it but I don't remember and oh my god I can't believe I'm telling you about my masturbation habits oh my god."

It all spilled out of Millie, unstoppable as her face got redder and redder.

"I'm sorry Jo I know you don't want to hear about that but is that a thing maybe where orgasm can trigger memory loss are the nerves all mixed up do I have some kind of condition oh my god I'm sorry I don't know why I'm rambling like this."

Joanne set down her spoon. She reached into the pocket of her sundress and pulled out the red gem, setting it on the counter between them. It caught the morning light, glowing softly.

"Millie," Joanne said gently. "Look at the gem."

Millie's eyes dropped to it automatically and the babbling stopped cold.

"You're fine," Joanne said softly. "There's nothing wrong with your memory. You're just a little stressed from work. You're taking care of yourself. Everything is normal. Everything is fine."

"Everything is fine," Millie repeated, her voice empty.

"You're not worried," Joanne continued. "You feel calm and happy. You trust me completely. I'm your best friend, and I would never let anything bad happen to you. Isn't that right?"

"Trust you completely," Millie said. "Best friend."

"Good girl," Joanne said. She picked up the gem and rolled it across the counter, back into her pocket. "Wake up."

Millie blinked. She smiled, feeling a warm wave of comfort wash over her. Joanne was right. She was just stressed. Everything was fine. She took a sip of her coffee.

"Sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm just being paranoid. Work must be getting to me."

"Obviously," Joanne said, smiling. "Sucks you can't bring yourself off without forgetting it. That's the way that I destress from work."

Three days later, Joanne came home early from her office. She had canceled her afternoon appointments, claiming a headache, but really she had just been wet and impatient all day, thinking about Millie, thinking about the power she had.

Millie was home. Joanne could hear the shower running. She walked down the hallway and pushed open the bathroom door, the steam hitting her face. Through the frosted glass of the shower door, she could see Millie's silhouette, her head tilted back under the water, one hand between her legs.

Her eyes were so pretty like that. It was like she was staring at the red glass, but the glass was still in Jo's pocket. And it wasn't as completely empty. More like she was just naturally zoned out mid-grope.

Joanne watched for a moment, her own hand sliding down to cup her breast through her blouse. Then she pulled the red gem from her pocket and held it up, tapping on the glass.

"Millie," she called.

The silhouette sprang to sudden life. The shower door flew open, and Millie's unobstructed face appeared. She was as red as the gem was, trying to cover her naked body so that her best friend wouldn't see all the private areas that Jo had already seen dozens of times. Seen and touched and tasted.

"Jo!" she squeaked. "What are you doing in..."

Then she found the gem and her protests and embarrassment evaporated. Her hands fell to her sides and her body stood on limp display.

"Come out," Joanne commanded.

Millie stepped out of the shower, water dripping from her naked body, her skin pink and warm. She didn't reach for a towel. She just stood there, waiting, her hand still wet from her own pussy.

"Were you touching yourself, Millie?" Joanne asked with a sly smile.

"No," Millie said, her voice hollow. "I was trying but I couldn't. Kept forgetting what I was doing."

Joanne smiled. The conditioning was working even better than she had hoped. Millie couldn't even pleasure herself anymore without losing the thread, without the pleasure slipping away into the fog Joanne had built in her mind.

"Kneel," Joanne said. 

Millie knelt. Water pooled around her knees. She looked up at Joanne, her mouth slightly open, her eyes empty and adoring.

Joanne unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it, then her skirt, her underwear. She was naked in seconds, her pussy already soaking wet, her clit throbbing. She stepped forward and straddled Millie's face, facing the wall, looking down at Millie's wet hair, feeling Millie's hands come up automatically to grip her ass.

"Eat me," Joanne commanded. 

Millie's tongue found her immediately, pushing up into her hole, lapping at her walls. Joanne ground down, rubbing her clit against Millie's nose, using her face like a toy. It was fast and rough and dirty, the way Joanne liked it best. She held onto the towel rack for balance, her hips bucking, fucking Millie's mouth, her face, using her.

She came with a grunt, her juices flooding out onto Millie's chin, dripping down onto her wet tits. Joanne stayed there for a moment, catching her breath, then stepped back. She turned around and looked down at Millie, who was still kneeling, her face covered in Joanne's cum, her own pussy untouched and aching.

"Stand up," Joanne said.

Millie stood. Her knees were red from the tile. Her nipples were hard as rocks, her chest heaving.

"What's the last orgasm you remember?"

"Three weeks ago."

"Oh poor thing you must be so wound up! No wonder you've been trying so hard the past few days."

Millie didn't respond. She simply stood there with her lips and chin coated with Jo's juices.

"Who owns your pleasure?" Joanne asked, kissing Millie's cheek.

"You do," Millie replied in a flat voice.

"So I guess that means that I'm responsible for it as well. And if you can't do it yourself..."

Jo dropped to her knees in the wet bathroom and went to work licking Millie's desperate pussy. Millie's body responded, even deep in trance. Her hips rose to meet Jo's mouth. Her heart beat sped up. Her throat made the needy sounds of someone long overdue. And as the pleasure grew, her mind got emptier and emptier, trying to obey Jo's command to wander off, but held by the need to do as Jo wanted now. She was tearing herself in two and Jo was running her tongue the length of the divide.

Millie exploded. Her scream was deafening in the small bathroom, echoing off the tiles. Her whole body convulsed, her pussy squirting hard, clear fluid mixing with the shower water on the floor, running down her legs in streams. She kept coming, wave after wave, her hips bucking uncontrollably against the showerhead, her eyes rolled back in her head. It was as if she hadn't orgasmed in weeks.

And in her mind, she hadn't.

When it was over, she collapsed slightly, catching herself on the sink behind her, her chest heaving, her legs shaking so hard she could barely stand.

Joanne stood and kissed her deeply, letting the evidence on both of their mouths mix and merge and smear across their faces.

And finally, Jo held the red gem up once again.

"Deep breath. Listen to my voice."

Millie focused on the gem, her breathing slowing, her face going slack again.

"You did so well," Joanne said. "You were perfect. But now you must forget again, but not the way you have been. I fear I may have been a little too cruel with you this time."

Millie stared into the crimson center of the costume jewel, eyes unblinking.

"Forget that I was ever here. Forget that I walked in while you showered. The orgasm you just had, the biggest one of your life, that was all you. After days of frustration, you finally managed to finger yourself to completion in the shower. I was never here. You did it all yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Millie whispered. "Forget you."

"And Millie," Joanne added, her voice dropping to a whisper. "From now on, when you try to masturbate, you'll be able to do it again, and you'll remember afterwards. But every time you cum, you'll say my name to yourself, because your pleasure belongs to me. Isn't that right?"

"My pleasure belongs to you," Millie repeated, her face serene, accepting. 

"You won't find it odd at all that I'm on your mind when you finish. It's totally normal."

"Totally normal."

"Good girl," Joanne said. "Now get back in the shower and when you hear the bathroom door close, you'll wake up."

Millie climbed back into the shower, the water still running and steaming, washing away the evidence from her face. And Jo made her exit.

Millie blinked as the door latched. She'd finally done it. She'd broken whatever curse she'd found herself under and FUCK what a good finale it had been. She was pretty sure that was the best orgasm of her life.

And, spurred on by her success, she let her hands wander over her body again. She touched and teased and this time she was able to focus on her task. And outside in the kitchen, Jo was wiping her face with a damp dishtowel and listening as she heard Millie call out her name from the shower. 

She smiled, hand grasping the gem in her pocket. That had been an excellent trial of her power, even if she did feel bad making Millie suffer like that. The next trance would have to be extra fun to make up for it.

Not that she'd remember.