Sylvia leaned against the bar. Her tits lay on the bar surface, grown so large that the had to keep her drinks off to one side. In the last 48 hours, she'd tripled the volume that she'd arrived with, turning her into a caricature of a woman. 

"Just one more," she slurred, pushing her empty glass forward with a finger that seemed to lack the precision it had possessed when she'd arrived at True Tide. The glass was sticky with melon residue. She'd lost count of how many she'd consumed since yesterday afternoon. Ten? Fifteen? "Please. I'm so thirsty."

The bartender, a young man named Julian who had only been on staff for three weeks but had already been fully conditioned, kept his eyes carefully fixed on the shelves of bottles behind her rather than on the spectacle of her chest. "Mrs. Harbor, I really can't. You've had... quite a lot already. Perhaps some water? Or I could call for a massage?"

"Don't want a fucking massage," Sylvia said, and hiccupped. The motion made her breasts bounce, and she winced. They were heavy now, impossibly heavy, the skin stretched tight and flushed pink. Her nipples, dark and sensitive, were visible through the thin fabric of her top, hard and aching. "Want melon. Need melon. Give me the fucking melon, Julian."

Julian's hand moved subtly beneath the bar, toward the small button that connected directly to security. But before he could press it, Polly appeared from the back room, carrying a tray of clean glasses. And when she saw Sylvia, her expression was grew concerned.

"Mrs. Harbor," Polly said, setting the tray down. "Sylvia. Why don't we get you to your room? You look… exhausted."

Sylvia turned, the motion requiring significant adjustment of her center of gravity. Her breasts swung like pendulums off the bar, pulling her forward, and she had to catch herself on Polly's shoulder to keep from toppling. "Polly! Polly, tell him. Tell Julian to give me another. Just one more. I need it. I need them bigger."

"Sylvia," Polly said softly, stepping closer, lowering her voice. "Your breasts have more than doubled in size in just the past few days. If you keep drinking the Essence, they're going to keep growing. You know that, right? That's how it works. There's no upper limit. The drink doesn't know what your body's limit it. They could get... troublesome. They may have already."

"Good," Sylvia said, her voice cracking. She felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, hot and humiliating. "I want them troublesome! I want them huge. I want them..." She gestured vaguely with her hands, the motion inadequate to describe the magnitude she sought. "I need to compete, Polly. You understand? I need to be able to compete with that witch."

Polly exchanged a look with Julian. She knew. They all had seen the way Jacob Harbor had been spending his time, the way he'd stopped returning to their suite, the way he'd been spotted in the Pacific Lounge's alcoves with that woman. But it was none of their business. There was no cheating in the True Tide, after all. And Sylvia had taken her share of non-Jacob dicks during her stay. But sometimes, the deep-rooted psychology of marriage turns guests into nymphomaniac hypocrites rather than just standard nymphomaniacs.

"Sylvia," Polly said carefully, "why don't we call Elara? She can help. She can make you feel better."

"I don't want to feel better," Sylvia said, but she was crying now, ugly tears that ran down her face and dripped onto her monumental cleavage. "I want to be bigger. I want him to look at me. Just look at me, Polly. He won't even look at me anymore."

Polly reached for the phone behind the bar. "I'm calling Elara," she said to Julian. "Don't serve her anything. Not even water. She's overloaded. She's practically radiating pheromones. If she drinks anything else, she's going to pop."

"Fuuuck you," Sylvia whispered, but there was no venom in it. She slumped against the bar, her massive breasts squashing against the cool wood, her head resting on her arms. 

Elara arrived twelve minutes later, moving through the bar with her characteristic grace. "Sylvia," she said, her voice warm but firm. She placed a hand on Sylvia's shoulder, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric. The woman was burning up, her metabolism racing to build the mammary tissue she'd been demanding with every drink. "Let's talk. Privately."

"Don't want to talk," Sylvia mumbled. "Want melons."

"I know," Elara said. She sat on the stool next to Sylvia, her posture perfect, her presence commanding. "But first, tell me why. Why do you want to keep growing? Your breasts are already... remarkable. Most women would be thrilled with this size. Most men would be entranced. So why push further? Why risk... well, why risk not being able to walk?"

Sylvia lifted her head. Her mascara had run, creating dark rivers down her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot, the pupils wide from the chemical cocktail in her system. She looked at Elara, really looked at her, and something in her face crumbled.

"Jacob," she whispered.

"Your husband?"

"He's... he's with her. Sasha. The one from the lounge." Sylvia's voice broke, dropping to a hoarse whisper. "He won't... he doesn't... I tried last night, Elara. I went to our room. I wore the lingerie he used to like, not that it fit my anymore like this. I tried to touch him, to kiss him, to... to fuck him. I thought if I could just get him to look at me, to remember what we have..."

She was sobbing now, her shoulders shaking, her breasts bouncing with each convulsion of grief.

"What did he do?" Elara asked, though she suspected she knew.

"He pushed me off," Sylvia said, the words coming out in a wail that drew attention from nearby tables. "He pushed me off the bed. He said... he said I don't compare to her. He said my tits are nothing compared to Sasha's. He said... he said I'm trying to compete with a goddess. He said he doesn't even see me anymore. All he sees is her."

Polly, who had been wiping glasses nearby, froze. Julian looked down, his jaw tight. The bar had gone quiet, the ambient music suddenly too loud, too present.

"So you think," Elara said slowly, "that if you make your breasts larger... if you make them enormous... he'll come back to you?"

"I have to compete," Sylvia said, her voice hollow. "I have to be able to compete. She's perfect, Elara. The way she moves... the way she breathes... he's hypnotized by her. I know he is. He's not himself. But if I can just... if I can be bigger, if I can be more... maybe he'll wake up. Maybe he'll see me again."

Elara and Polly exchanged glances. A silent communication passed between them; years of working together, of understanding the complex ecosystem of desire and manipulation that was True Tide.

"Code 77," Elara said softly.

Polly nodded, her expression grim. "I'll prepare the room."

"Sylvia," Elara said, turning back to the drunken, distraught woman, her voice dropping into the specific cadence that bypassed conscious resistance. She pulled out the little silver wand and clicked it on. "Look at this. Look at the light."

Sylvia looked. Her gaze was unfocused, swimming with tears and hormones and the dregs of melon-induced suggestibility.

"You're very tired," Elara said, her voice becoming rhythmic, hypnotic. "You've had a long, difficult day. Your body is heavy. Your mind is foggy. You need to rest. You need to sleep. Polly has a nice, quiet room where you can lie down. You'll go with her now, won't you? You'll let her take care of you?"

"Yes, Elara," Sylvia whispered, the word automatic, her eyelids drooping.

"Good girl," Elara purred. She stood, helping Sylvia to her feet, steadying her as the woman swayed, unbalanced by the weight of her own chest. "Polly will take you somewhere safe. Somewhere warm. And when you wake up, everything will be clearer. Everything will be better. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Elara," Sylvia repeated, her head lolling against Elara's shoulder, eyes never leaving the light.

"That's very good, Sylvia. Now be a good girl and do as Polly tells you." The light clicked off.

Polly took her arm, guiding her toward the service entrance, toward the elevators that led down to the staff quarters beneath the hotel. Sylvia moved like a sleepwalker, compliant, empty, her massive breasts leading the way, her mind temporarily quieted by Elara's golden light.

Elara watched them go, her expression shifting from concern to cold professionalism. She pulled out her phone and dialed Preston.

"Code 77," she said when he answered. "Pacific Lounge. Bring Philip. We have a rogue hypnotist."

The Pacific Lounge was quieter in the late afternoon, the blue leather seats mostly empty, the beds in the alcoves freshly made with crisp white sheets. But in the far corner, in the largest alcove draped with velvet curtains, Jacob Harbor sat like a king on a throne of cushions, and beside him, Sasha reclined in naked splendor.

She was, Elara had to admit as she approached with Preston and Philip flanking her, breathtaking. Even knowing what she was, even understanding the danger, the visual impact was undeniable. Sasha's skin was the color of dark caramel, flawless, glowing with health and some inner light that seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. 

And her breasts... Elara felt her own breath catch, her professional composure waver. They were perfect. 

"Now, Preston," Elara said, turning to face him as they entered. "This is your final test. You are going to have to deal with a guest who has decided that the hotel isn't the one in control. A guest can never exert their own control over another guest in this manner. Why is that, Preston?"

"The hotel must always be in control," he responded. It was the first thing that someone training for this position was taught. Losing a little control is the first step to losing a lot of control. And so the only people with the capacity to hypnotize and enslave must be staff. Sasha would need to be dealt with.

"I'll watch from here. Philip will be with you for back up. Now show me what you've got."

Preston nodded and the two men set off toward Sasha and Jacob.

"Jacob, darling, we have visitors," Sasha said as the pair approached.

Jacob looked up, his eyes glazed, a smile of supreme contentment on his face. He was naked too, his cock hard and resting against his stomach, his hand absently massaging Sasha's shoulder, causing her breasts to sway ever so slightly. 

"Preston. Philip. Join us."

"Mr. Harbor," Preston said, his voice sharp, cutting through the haze. "I need to speak with Ms.... Sasha. Privately."

"Anything you have to say to me," Sasha purred, "you can say in front of Jacob. We're in love, you see. We have no secrets."

Preston stepped closer, forcing himself to maintain eye contact rather than letting her gaze drop to those swaying, hypnotic breasts. "Ms. Sasha, it has come to our attention that you may be employing... techniques... against hotel policy. Specifically, it is against True Tide regulations for a guest to utilize independent mind control methodologies against another guest."

Sasha laughed, a musical sound that made her breasts bounce, the movement entrancing, impossible to ignore. "Mind control? Preston, is it? Preston, look at me. Do these look like weapons?" She cupped her own breasts, lifting them slightly, letting them settle back with a slow, hypnotic sway. "I'm not doing anything to Jacob. He's a grown man. He makes his own choices."

"You're manipulating him," Philip said, his voice less certain than he would have liked. Sasha glanced at him and saw that his eyes had dropped to her chest.

"I'm massaging my breasts," Sasha corrected gently, her thumbs circling her nipples, making them harden, making the flesh move in slow, deliberate circles. "It's a perfectly normal thing to do. They're sensitive. I enjoy touching them. And Jacob enjoys watching. Don't you, darling?"

"Yes," Jacob breathed, his hand moving to his cock, stroking slowly. "God, yes. They're beautiful. Perfect. I could watch them forever."

"See?" Sasha said, her eyes never leaving Preston's, though her hands continued their slow, circular massage. "He's not hypnotized. He's in love. There's a difference, you know. Hypnosis is fake. It's tricks. But this..." She squeezed her breasts together, creating a deep, shadowed cleavage, then released them, letting them sway and settle. "This is just beauty. Natural attraction. It's normal to be drawn to something so perfect. It's normal to want to please the person who possesses such beauty. Isn't it?"

Preston found himself nodding. It did make sense. Sasha wasn't doing anything unnatural. She was simply... exquisite. And Jacob was simply responding to that excellence. Wasn't that what attraction was? What love was?

"You're right," Philip said, and his voice had gone soft, dreamy. "It's just... they're very beautiful. Anyone would be attracted to them. It's biological."

"Exactly," Sasha cooed, her smile widening. She sat up slightly, her breasts swinging forward, catching the light, the movement somehow synchronized with her breathing, creating a rhythm that matched the pulse in Elara's temples. "I'm not hypnotizing anyone. I'm just existing. And if Jacob chooses to spend his time with me, if he chooses to ignore his... inadequate... wife, that's his choice. Isn't it? Free will?"

"Free will," Preston repeated, and the words felt true, felt right.

Sasha knelt upright on the bed, her body unfolding like a flower, her breasts at eye level now, swaying gently as she moved toward them. She reached out and touched 
Preston's cheek, her skin warm, her scent intoxicating.

"You should go now," Sasha said softly, her breasts moving with each word, the motion hypnotic, undeniable. "Leave Jacob and me alone. We want to be alone. We want to make love. You don't want to interrupt that, do you? It would be rude. It would be... wrong."

"Wrong," Philip agreed.

"We should leave," Preston said, and she couldn't remember why they'd come, what the urgency had been. Sasha was right. This was just love. Just attraction. Just two people enjoying each other.

"Yes," Sasha whispered, her hand dropping to trace her own collarbone, her fingers dipping into the valley between her breasts, drawing the eye, commanding attention. "Leave us. Forget why you came. Everything is fine here. Everything is perfect. Just... go."

"Yes, Ms. Sasha," the pair muttered. "Everything is perfect."

Preston turned. Philip turned. They walked away, their steps slow and dreamy, their minds empty of purpose, their only thought the lingering image of Sasha's perfect, swaying breasts, the sound of her voice echoing in their heads like a bell.

Preston and Philip returned to Elara where she'd watched the whole encounter from a seat at the bar.

"Everything is perfect," Preston reported. "Jacob is just in love. We should leave them be."

"Oh is that so?" Elara asked with a roll of her eyes. "You know, for someone who was so eager to take control of me, you are embarrassingly susceptible to a pair of bouncing tits, even ones as nice as those. Both of you."

She snapped her fingers in front of the two, causing them to jump slightly.

"I'm ordering a week's worth of counter-control training for each of you." She reached down and cupped their visible hard-ons. "So easily manipulated. I'm disappointed."

The two looked down at the floor and skulked away, embarrassed. Elara looked across the bar at Sasha who had let Jacob suck on one of her nipples as she stroked his cock. She was whispering in his ear and petting his hair. His eyes were closed as his cum leaked out over her fingers. Elara would handle Sasha herself.

The staff quarters beneath the hotel were a maze of narrow corridors and small, efficient rooms, a stark contrast to the luxury above. The room Polly had taken Sylvia to was at the end of a long hallway, isolated and soundproofed.

Sylvia sat on the edge of a narrow bed, her massive breasts resting on her lap like sleeping animals, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She'd been crying silently since they'd arrived, tears tracking down her face, her body swaying slightly with residual sobs.

"Here," Polly said, handing her a glass. The liquid inside was crystal clear, sparkling with tiny bubbles that caught the dim light. "This is the Clarifier. It tastes like nothing. Like water. But it will help you."

Sylvia took the glass with both hands, her fingers trembling. "Help me?"

"Drink," Polly commanded Sylvia obeyed.

Polly took out the Force Focus that Elara had given her and clicked it on, bathing the white room in gold.

Sylvia's eyes went wide, then heavy, then blank. The glass trembled in her hands, but she didn't spill a drop. Her breathing slowed, her body relaxed, her mind opening up like a flower to the light.

"Listen to me, Sylvia," Polly said, her voice dropping into the cadence, the rhythm that the device enhanced, that made suggestion into certainty. "You are safe here. You are calm. Everything is okay."

"Everything is okay," Sylvia repeated, her voice monotone, distant.

"Jacob is still in love with you. He always has been. What you saw... what you experienced... that wasn't real. That was an illusion. A trick. When you check out of True Tide, when you leave this place, your lives will go back to normal. Jacob will remember that he loves you. He will forget Sasha. You will forget your pain."

"I will forget my pain," Sylvia echoed.

"You should never have let it get this far," Polly continued, her voice gentle but firm, the Force Focus pulsing with each word. "The Melon Essence is powerful, but it must be respected. You drank too much. You let your insecurity drive you. But that's over now. You're going to drink one of these Clarifiers every six hours. And with each drink, your body will begin to return to normal. Your breasts will shrink. Not all the way, you'll keep some enhancement. But they won't be... this. They'll be beautiful. Perfect for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Polly," Sylvia said, and there was nothing in her voice but obedience, acceptance, the sweet emptiness of trance.

"Good girl," Polly whispered.

She set the Force Focus down on the nightstand, leaving it on, the gold light continuing to bathe Sylvia's face, keeping her deep, keeping her open. Polly felt a heat building in her own body, a familiar wetness between her legs. She'd been attracted to Sylvia since Bingo night when they'd first met.

Now she was here. Mindless. Obedient. Ready to be remade.

Polly stepped closer, her hand reaching out to stroke Sylvia's hair, then her cheek, then dropping to trace the edge of her massive breast through the fabric of her blouse. "I've wanted to taste you since I first saw you," Polly admitted, her voice thick with arousal. "I wanted to break you open. To see what was inside. And now... now I get my chance."

She leaned in, her lips close to Sylvia's ear. "Strip," she commanded. "Take off all your clothes. Then lie back on the bed and spread your legs for me."

"Yes, Polly."

Sylvia moved mechanically, her eyes still fixed on the golden light, her mind empty of everything but the need to obey. She pulled off her top which was difficult with the strain of fabric over her chest, but she managed. She slipped out of her shorts, and lay back on the bed, legs wide. Her cunt was shaved smooth, glistening with arousal that the trance had triggered, the Melon Essence having heightened her libido even as it enlarged her chest.

Polly undressed quickly, her own body taut with need, her nipples hard, her cunt soaked. She climbed onto the bed between Sylvia's legs, looking down at the mindless woman, at the blank, peaceful face, at the massive breasts that rose and fell with hypnotic regularity.

"You're going to cum for me," Polly said, lowering her head, her tongue finding Sylvia's clit, tasting the sweetness of the hormones, the salt of her tears, the musk of her arousal. "You're going to cum, and when you do, you're going to forget all about Jacob and Sasha. You're going to forget your pain. You're just going to be here, with me, feeling good, being good. My good girl."

Sylvia moaned, a long, low sound that vibrated through her chest, making her bells jingle softly even though she wasn't wearing them anymore. Her hips rose to meet Polly's mouth, her body responding automatically to the stimulation, the trance making every sensation more intense, more consuming.

Polly licked and sucked, her hands reaching up to knead Sylvia's massive breasts, to roll the nipples between her fingers, to feel the weight and heat of them. She lost herself in the taste, the texture, the power of having this woman completely under her control.

Sylvia came with a shuddering cry, her body arching off the bed, her cunt pulsing against Polly's tongue, and as the orgasm rolled through her, Polly whispered instructions into her flesh, programming her, soothing her, preparing her for the return to normalcy.

When it was over, when Sylvia had slipped into a deep, restorative sleep, Polly covered her with a blanket and sat beside her. She clicked off the wand and watched the prim wife's massive chest rise and fall as she slept. Her sleep wouldn't have any nightmares tonight.

Later that night, Elara knocked on Sasha's door. The woman answered and smiled, her naked breasts shining in the dim light of the hall. 

"Elara." Her voice was smooth but a little uncertain. "How lovely to see you. Do come in."

"Thank you." Elara stepped past the woman into the hotel room and immediately noticed the two other men inside, laying on the bed beside one another. Their pants were around their ankles and they were staring at the ceiling, stroking in silence. "I'd appreciate it if we could talk privately."

"The first two said that, too." Not quite a threat but not an idle comment either. "They can't hear anything but me, love. Not to worry."

"I'm not worried," Elara said, sitting on the bed beside one of the mindless men. "Preston and Philip were a courtesy. Since you saw fit to not just continue to flaunt the rules, but actively target my employees, I thought this needed a personal touch."

"Is that so?" Sasha was standing right below a recessed light in the ceiling, obviously trying to paint her breasts in the best light. 

"There are many wonderful things about this facility, as I can see you've discovered," Elara said with a sigh. She lay back across the head of the bed and played idly with the hair of one of the men. He let out a peaceful sound. "We are a very unique business. Pleasure is our product and our payment. We allow people dominant in their lives to experience true submission. And we allow the meek to grow into powerful fantasies that they might never have the nerve to ask for. It's wonderful."

Sasha was swaying slightly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, but Elara wasn't looking at her.

"But beneath all that, we're still a business. We're bound by regulations and laws and licenses. And most of all, insurance agreements. And so there are things that even we cannot tolerate. Children are strictly prohibited anywhere on the property, for instance. Surely you understand why a rule like that is ironclad."

"Of course," Sasha said, her voice having lost some of its edge as the music in the room seemed to grow just a little louder.

"We have other rules, too. We abide by building codes and safety measures for all out guests and staff. We follow all the national regulations for disabled accessibility. We don't over-serve alcohol to our guests. We had to stop a women just earlier today from drinking herself into some real body horror. These rules are important and must be followed. Would you agree?"

"Of… of course!" She was swaying more now, but she didn't seem to be doing it on purpose anymore. Elara continued to stare pointedly at the man's hair that she was playing with.

"And then there are the rules that apply here that might not apply in other places due to the unique and wonderful nature of our business. The infrastructure it takes to run a place like this while staying in compliance… Sasha you wouldn't believe what we have going on behind the scenes and in the halls beneath the resort. Our permits are contingent on a level of surveillance, testing, and overall control that is frankly staggering. It's very, very important that the hotel be in control at all times."

"Yeah…" Sasha's eyes had taken on a dreamy look. The music was different now. More demanding, but not so loud as to cover Elara's soft, precise voice.

"Say it, Sasha. Say that it is important that the hotel is in control."

"It is important that the hotel is in control."

Elara finally looked up at the woman, wobbly and struggling to think of anything at all. Elara stood and stepped behind the rogue hypnotist. She guided Sasha to the bed and allowed her to lay where Elara had just been. She stared up at the ceiling like her mindless men.

"We cannot allow you to take independent control of another guest, Sasha. You cannot control these men or Mr. Harbor or any others without the explicit permission of the hotel. That is a violation of our rules and must be quashed immediately."

Sasha made no sound. She simply lay and listened.

"Your tits have no powers. Say it."

"My tits have no powers." There was no emotion in her voice anymore.

"You are just a guest here and have no greater designs than relaxation and pleasure."

"I am just a guest."

"You are checking out tomorrow, regardless of when your trip ended."

"I am checking out tomorrow."

"Your final bill will contain a hefty fee for rules violations. You will pay it without complaint or consideration."

"I will pay."

"Good girl. Now. You're going to give me a list of other guests who you have done this to, and I'm going to have them brought to this room for you to release from your control. We'll start with these two and Mr. Harbor and go from there. Say, 'Yes, Mistress.'"

"Yes, Mistress."

Elara picked up the room phone and dialed the extension for the control room. Inside, Preston sat at the keyboard, watching Sasha's room, just in case the woman got the better of Elara. When he answered, Elara told him it was safe to turn the music back to normal. Then she set Sasha to her task of setting all her thralls free.

"We really should have caught onto this before it got this far," Elara said to Preston later that night. "We'll have to take a closer look at our monitoring procedure. You and I can go over it together tomorrow."

He nodded enthusiastically.

"But tonight," she tossed him a Force Focus. "I'd like to forget about this for a little while. Pretty please?"

He smiled widely, clicked the light on, and watched Elara disappear into trance. "Anything for you."