Sweat glistening across her forehead, her back, and the magnificent slopes of her breasts, Chelsea collapsed backward on the bed, gasping for breath. Her new vibrator, Davis, was still half lodged inside her, and it took a few moments before she was recovered enough to fumble to shut it off.

After that she didn’t even bother removing it until she’d had a chance to properly catch her breath. Instead she just basked, enjoying the afterglow and letting her mind wander through the fantasy she’d been enjoying.

She was spending more and more of her free time fucking herself, groping herself, teasing and toying with herself. It seemed like everything had changed in the past… what? Three weeks?

Chelsea had always figured herself to have a pretty strong libido. In that short period, though, it seemed to have doubled or more, and yet she was saving almost none of it for her boyfriend.

Instead she found herself thinking about Davis whenever the urge to pleasure herself took her - as it seemed to, more and more often, and in different ways; she’d become obsessed with a single toy or a single body part for a time, and her head would be filled with fantasies of her old friend.

He wasn’t really her type, she’d always thought; that wasn’t why she’d detested the way he leered at everything femme, just another issue she’d had to deal with for as long as they’d been friends. Yet now, when he was nowhere to be seen and hadn’t been for over a month, suddenly he was in her thoughts constantly. An inexplicable craving just as weird as any outre food combination a pregnant woman might deal with.

Eventually, sated, Chelsea picked herself up from the bed, removed her toy, and walked naked with it into the shower, where she spent long enough under the hot jets for it to feel like a strange form of penance. She emerged into a bathroom full of steam, put her toy aside to clean later, wrapped herself in a big blue towel, and headed back into the living room, where the TV displayed a Netflix pause menu: Are You Still Watching The Circle?

That’s right, she thought; she’d just sat down to watch it. And now here she was, hours later, because she’d gotten an urge to strip down, spread herself out on her bed, and put the vibrator to a better, more thorough test than it had had the previous day on arrival.

Which she’d just got up and gone and done. No distractions. No thinking things through. Not even pausing a show she quite enjoyed so she wouldn’t lose track.

That didn’t make any sense, did it? That wasn’t something you did. You decided you wanted to have some fun, sure, and you went off to have it. But you didn’t rush off so fast you couldn’t pause what you were watching.

Why had she done that?

She’d been watching TV and her phone had rung…

Chelsea frowned. Who’d called her?

There’d be a record on the phone itself, but it was so strange that she couldn’t remember that she stood there for a few moments, straining at her memory to come up with an answer.

Frustrated, she snatched up her phone, unlocked it, called up the call record, read the name without reading it, swiped across to another app, saw she had no new emails, and closed the phone again, setting it down.

It would be another few moments before it occurred to her that she hadn’t registered the name of the caller. Instead she’d done the same thing she did every time she tried to check the time on her phone; looked at it, not registered it, and gone over to look at something else.

Focusing carefully, she unlocked her phone again, called up the call record, swiped across to another app before it loaded, and scrolled through her TikTok for a while. Five minutes later, she registered again that she was standing, nude but for her towel, in the living room, and went back into her bedroom to get dressed, the fact she’d failed to notice a name forgotten.

As she stepped into her bedroom she heard the front door open and called out a quick greeting for Neil. He came through into the bedroom, kissing her on the top of her head, then bustled back out, muttering something about freshening up.

They ate dinner together and Chelsea headed out to work. Somewhere in the middle of her shift she remembered again that she’d meant to check who the call was from, but she didn’t have a chance to do anything about that for another hour or two, by which time it had slipped her mind once again.

*

The moment Davis opened the door, Sarah put her hand on his chest and started walking forward, backing him immediately into his house. She broke stride only long enough to kick the door closed behind her. Davis grinned; by this time he knew exactly what that meant.

Sarah’s busy life had meant she’d left it too long. She needed to suck his cock once a week, and if she let that need get too strong, she couldn’t even manage polite conversation once she reached him.

The moment she had his back against the wall she slid to her knees; Davis felt the tips of her fingernails trail down his chest, through his faded old T-shirt. He made a noise that embarrassed him, half excited squeak, half strangled gurgle. Sarah didn’t care; she was already focused on his belt. She put her lips to the leather and bit down on it, drawing her head back and pulling the strap loose. Her tongue teased the metal buckle aside, she tilted her head and popped the belt open, and then her hands went straight to his fly.

There was an urgency to every movement. If Davis hadn’t come to enjoy just how much he affected the women he played his music for, it would have seemed crude and desperate. Knowing why she was doing it - that he was at the heart of that - he was delighted. As she teased his fly open his cock came out eagerly to meet her; with an almost primal sound she took him whole, throwing herself onto his cock with an eagerness that took no notice of her surroundings, of the fabric that could get in the way, of anything but her need to please, tease, and drink him dry.

She was getting to be pretty good, too; the inexperience had been strangely delightful the first time but Sarah was a quick study. Davis had kind of known that, but he hadn’t appreciated her perfectionist side until he was its target.

Sarah’s eyes were open throughout, studying him closely. There was an air of concentration about her which, missing as it was any element of desire, was a little unsettling - though not nearly unsettling enough for him not to enjoy it.

To think back just a month to a time when she’d radiated open hostility now seemed almost impossible, but it was remembering how very different that dismissive glare of old was from this eager study that finally pushed him over the edge. He reached down and grabbed her hair, and Sarah frowned but accepted it as part of her lot in life.

He held her close as he filled her mouth, and he heard her sputter and gulp as she tried to keep up with his cumming, swallowing it down as fast as it came. That irritation in her eyes, along with the eager study, was abruptly lost. In its place was sheer delight; Sarah was fulfilled by her weekly drink of his cum in a way nothing else really could.

When she’d drunk her fill she pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She stood, matter of factly, and turned and strolled away into his living room, leaving Davis to pull himself together and follow her.

That always took him a few minutes. Sarah had taken to seating herself on his computer chair, legs crossed, and would fiddle incessantly with one of the toys he had lying on his desk rather than pay him any attention.

As far as he’d dared to push her mental adjustment, she was still very much the self-contained, driven woman she always had been. And while she was compelled to like him now, she managed to do so while projecting an attitude which said he was her friend under sufferance. That he needed to step up and do better.

Davis was still trying to work out to what extent her choice to take his computer seat was a subconscious move to stop him from further conditioning her. She was supposed to think he’d never affect her with his music. Hard to say, though he might have felt rather hurt if he’d realised she wouldn’t have cared even if she’d known.

She had other things on her mind, after all. Higher priorities to be achieved.

“You’ve got to do something about Chelsea,” she said, before he could speak for himself. “I’m trying to help, but it doesn’t seem like you’re pulling your weight.”

Davis blinked. He’d been chipping away at her every day for weeks now, and he’d had Sarah doing the same as much as he could. He could take Chelsea any time he wanted now; it was just a point of principle.

Because she’d made it clear that she might magnanimously welcome him back if he reached out to her first, Davis was determined that it wouldn’t go that way. And besides - she’d been his best friend. He didn’t want to skew that the way Sarah and Marina now had skewed attitudes to him.

They were programmed, and he didn’t want a programmed version of Chelsea. He wanted the real Chelsea - just conditioned to love him, to desire him, and to let him have his own way at all times.

Saying nothing, he made his way over to the computer. He had to lean over Sarah to cue up the soundscape. Only when it was loading did he say “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been talking you up as much as I can without her backlashing against you,” Sarah said. “But you haven’t so much as reached out. Every time I try talking to her about you, she throws that in my face.”

Davis nodded. “Let me get you some coffee while we talk about this,” he said, heading for the kitchen, neatly out of the way from the subliminal priming.

He had no intention of making her coffee, though; he did grab a can of his favourite energy drink - he needed his energy, and he needed fresh electrolytes - but then simply loitered near the doorway, watching Sarah’s expression gradually replaced with an artificial, absent version of itself.

She still had the slight pout she’d put on in stressing his laziness. It just looked now like there was no reality to it; like she was simply pretending. Still…

Davis was trying to make better use of his instructions these days, but this was hard. He had such a clear idea what he wanted from Chelsea, but getting her there wasn’t so simple. Plus he was sure it was taking her longer to pick up the phone each time…

“You’ll do anything to help me win Chelsea over,” he said abruptly. “But you know I have a plan. Even if I won’t tell you what it is.

“You’re not going to push me, just in case I leave you out. But when I tell you to help with Chelsea, you’ll drop anything to do it.” He smiled. “Even if it interrupts your own relationship. Even if it gets you wrapped up in something kinky.”

He knew the soundscape would end shortly, so he ducked back into the kitchen to preserve the idea he’d done nothing. To give Sarah’s subconscious as much excuse as possible not to think that he might be conditioning her.

His own thoughts were a trifle hazy, he realised as the soundscape ended and his head began to clear. That seemed to happen a lot if he heard the soundscape. As if he could shrug it off, but it was still there.

Davis was too uninterested in self-reflection to think about what effect the soundscape had on his own decisions and impulses. This was probably for the best, at least if you considered his end goals to be for the best of anyone.

He sauntered back into the room when he judged it was safe. Sarah was clearly coming back around; her eyes had a little more life to them, although they were clearly unfocused.

“About Chelsea,” he said. “There’s something you can do for me…”

*

Chelsea worked not far from Sarah, and if she was working a daytime shift, they’d often met up after dinner for drinks. It was natural, on a day that Chelsea was feeling particularly uncomfortable about a strange phone call the previous day, she’d arrange just such a meeting.

It was always fun to catch up with her friend, but this time things were a bit different. For once (well, it was a bit more common than that, but still), it was Sarah who’d actually arranged this one. Chelsea wasn’t sure why. Just as weirdly, it was at Sarah’s place, not a bar. Which meant Sarah had had to buy the drinks in.

Chelsea was settled into a comfortable armchair, wondering what was going on, when Sarah came back in with two tall glasses. Whatever drink she’d mixed was a bright, chemical blue, highly dilute. Even before she took a drink, she knew that it was going to be far sweeter than any drink she wanted - and would be way more alcoholic than it tasted.

Sarah was an aggressive drinker most of the time, but you could never guess what she’d feel like drinking on the day. Beer, cocktails, wine, all were equally likely.

“Cheers,” Chelsea smiled, raising the glass. “So what’s up? And where’s Julie?”

“Oh, she’s out,” Sarah said, and that was the point where Chelsea thought something very weird had to be up. Not only were the two almost inseparable unless something more private had been arranged, but there was definitely no way Sarah would invite someone over without Julie around to enjoy their company too. No way at all.

Except, of course, that she had. There had to be some other motivating factor - she just had no idea what.

“Right. Okay. So…” The only possible reason suddenly occurred to her. “Shit. Are you and Julie okay?”

Sarah looked at her with total bafflement. “So far as I know,” she said. “Why, is there some reason we wouldn’t be?”

So that was a dead end, too.

“What’s this actually about?” Chelsea asked, and it didn’t escape her this time that she’d asked before and not been answered.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain.” Sarah fidgeted for a moment. Then, with the attitude of a woman making a major decision, she pulled out her phone.

Chelsea watched in bemused but tolerant patience for a few moments. Whatever this was, her friend was finding every opportunity to delay it. Maybe it was embarrassing?

Sarah started playing music. It wasn’t anything from the charts, wasn’t a classic track from her childhood either, but it was somehow familiar all the same.

The more it played, the less coherent Chelsea’s thoughts became. She could feel it, somehow; feel the degradation in the quality of her consciousness. There was suddenly discomfort all through her, an unease, even a fear.

She should tell Sarah to stop the music, she thought. Better, she should lunge toward her, snatch the phone, do it herself. And she should do that as quickly as she possibly could.

But the thought had taken too long to construct, and by the time she’d thought it, the opportunity was gone. The discomfort and unease lifted as the last of her thoughts ebbed away on the tide of the song.

*

“Wait,” Sarah had said. “This sounds a whole hell of a lot like brainwashing.”

Davis had just grinned, and Sarah felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Music that could influence people… she knew Davis had that, and that didn’t sound so bad. Who hadn’t got it on because the right track got played at the right moment?

This was something else. Something much, much worse. And yet…

“You believe in me and Chelsea, don’t you?” The grin was unsavoury, but it belonged to the man whose cock Sarah needed to suck once a week. There was always a moment of pause after that thought crossed her mind, a pause as if there was another thought that should follow along, but never did.

“Of course I do,” she said, and felt the same pause once again. A missing idea, definitely; something she could almost put her finger on, but then it was gone - and once it was gone, she never remembered it. Not until the next time.

“This is what it’s going to take, Sarah,” Davis told her. “When we started this, you said you’d do whatever it takes to make this happen.”

Sarah didn’t remember saying any such thing. She’d certainly thought it, but back then, she’d had such a low opinion of Davis - not like now, not now she’d got to know him.

“I mean… I guess…”

“What’s wrong?” he asked. It wasn’t the soft, gentle tone of someone prepared to sympathise. It sounded like an impatient boss with better things to do. If she only wanted to suck his cock, she’d have cut things off there and then - but she definitely still needed access to his cock. And besides, the more she thought about it, the clearer it was. She believed in Davis and Chelsea. She’d do anything to get them together.

“Nothing,” she said slowly. “Well… at least…”

“What?”

“Neil,” she said.

Davis rolled his eyes at that. “Oh, him.”

“Yeah. I feel like he’s…”

“Is he meant to be with her?”

“Well… no, I guess…”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“So she’s meant to be with me.”

“Ye-es…”

“Neil’s not part of that picture.”

The dismissive way he said it really stung, like he’d been calling her stupid for even thinking about it.

Sarah had been wrong when she’d assumed Davis didn’t care about getting Chelsea. He sounded so impatient with her opinions.

“Besides, she’s been thinking about him less and less for the best part of a month,” Davis said. “Like I told you, she’s getting pretty ripe. She just needs the right encouragement, so she knows what she’s got to offer me.

“And I thought you’d enjoy offering that encouragement. Don’t you want to see her naked?”

Davis, Sarah thought, had jumped to a lot of incorrect assumptions about how lesbians worked. “Not really…”

He shrugged and leaned across her, then hit a key on the keyboard.

*

Sarah really wanted to see Chelsea naked. She could feel the music tugging at her own head, and she knew she had to try to keep ahead of it. Davis would never use it on her; she’d have to be careful or it might end up being used on her all the same.

So she’d have to hurry.

From memory she recited the words Davis had given her. The first set. “You don’t care that there’s someone else here. You need a good fucking. You need to think it’s Davis fucking you. And you need to be naked.

“You know there’s a dildo under the table beside you. Sticking it to the wall will give you a chance to really show Davis what you can do. Show yourself what kind of slut you’d be for him. It doesn’t matter that I’m here to watch. If anything it makes it better.”

After her hesitation, she’d had to hurry to get it all out before the soundscape ran out. She finished with just seconds to go before it came to an end.

She watched Chelsea blink a long, slow blink, this odd goofy half-smile she’d had as it played reverting to a puzzled urgency. Thinking back to how she felt about Davis’ cock, Sarah could absolutely relate. The way it felt when there was a need was totally different; sucking his cock gave her almost a time limit in a way Julie never did, despite the fact she both loved Julie and thought she was one of the hottest people on God’s earth.

Chelsea rose unsteadily from her chair, hands already pawing at her jacket, Sturdy, light brown leather, it resisted tearing and that was probably a good thing.

Sarah lazily lifted her own tee shirt over her head and tossed it aside as Chelsea freed her hands from the jacket cuffs and hurried to shed her blouse. Sarah heard at least one button clatter off the living room table as it tore loose from the blouse.

The two women ignored each other, heads down, as they reached behind themselves to unsnap their bras, which were swiftly shed and thrown away.

Sarah had the lead in shedding clothes but found herself now having to rise as Chelsea kicked off first one shoe, then the other. Both women fumbled at their waists; Sarah quickly parted her belt so she could let down her slacks, but Chelsea, driven by need, was acting faster, and the dark leggings she often wore for comfort at work were easy for her to pull down and off. An added bonus; her socks were easily dragged off with them.

They were both reaching for the waistbands of their panties when a sudden realisation pulled Sarah up short.

She hadn’t been intending to strip at all, and it hadn’t been part of Davis’ plan that she should. She’d been affected by the music.

Oh, no. No no no no no.

The next burst of instructions…

She drew her panties down below her knees and stepped out of them without realising she had, even as she was still trying to find something in her that would allow her to stop.

Chelsea didn’t even sit back down. Instead she dropped to her knees in front of the chair, tits bouncing, all compulsion and no remaining dignity, reaching back with one hand and feeling around for the dildo.

Sarah actually had to leave the room to fetch a dildo for her own use, running in an awkward, needy crouch-sprint. She had it inside her by the time she made it, panting, back into the living room so she could settle down somewhere with a clear view of Chelsea’s naked body, just as she’d wanted.

By that point Chelsea had shifted position. Her head was down against the carpet, one bent arm under her chest the only thing protecting her heavy breasts from rug burn - but it looked like at least it would succeed in that. Her other arm ran back under her chest to where, one knee against the carpet and one leg splayed, she was frantically hammering herself with the heaviest, thickest dildo Sarah had been able to find.

It didn’t look comfortable, but it certainly underlined just how helpless against Davis’ brainwashing Chelsea was, and it was a pose that would get the job done.

When Sarah realised she was mirroring it, that underlined just how helpless she evidently was against Davis’ brainwashing.

The room was already full of the heady scent of arousal. Shallow gasps and excited, mewling cries joined the aroma and the two women, slowly, came to be looking directly against each other as they disgraced themselves, cumming again and again in their haste to follow the instructions in the music.

Sarah could see how little suspicion Chelsea had about any of this. Even fucking herself in the same room as a best friend, neither of whom had shown any interest in changing that, hadn’t showed her this wasn’t real. Which meant there probably was no way she could tell.

Sarah felt a little guilty about that, but mostly she was frustrated that she knew what it was doing to her.

She exhausted herself before Chelsea did. One last audibly breaking cry of satisfaction and the arms and knees holding her up were too wobbly to support her. She flopped forward without control.

Time seemed to swim for a while, so utterly drained did she feel. She knew her carpet was going to have to be cleaned after this, and wasn’t excited to deal with that.

Sarah’s consciousness snapped back into clarity when the delighted moans Chelsea had been making stopped in their turn. There was something she had to do…

Fumbling for her phone, she started the soundscape playing again, dreading the fact that she’d be affected too. But she couldn’t let Davis down.

She watched Chelsea’s expression grow slack and began to talk.

*

Davis was really starting to enjoy it when the buzzer for his apartment door sounded. Aside from a point last week where he realised he didn’t have the energy to cook, every time there’d been a caller for weeks had been a positive experience.

But when he opened the door to a panting, wide-eyed Chelsea it was probably the best he’d felt since she told him what she used to be allowed to think of him.

“I thought you wanted me to make the first move,” he said, reminding himself how he’d planned to play this out.

“I… can I come in?”

Davis stood back to let her in. “Take your coat?”

She shook her head fractionally, clutching the coat closed against her body. He couldn’t stop himself from smirking, which probably seemed a little odd to her.

She led the way through into his gaming room, where she stood awkwardly, closed in on herself, still holding her coat tight. He could see how lost she was in the way she looked around, the easy confidence he’d always admired shattered in the process of breaking her down.

Not that he had any doubts in his ability to rebuild that, rightly or wrongly.

“So what’s this all about?”

“I just broke it off with Neil,” she said, not meeting his eye. “You were right about him. I see that now, one hundred percent.”

Davis nodded.

“I was wrong to criticise you,” she said. “I… I need you, Davis.”

“Need me?”

“I need you inside me. Now. Tonight. Every night.” The words came faster and faster, half confession, half avalanche. “However you want to do it. However you want me. And… and whatever the cost?”

Play it cool, he reminded himself, although he probably didn’t need to. “Whatever the cost?”

“You call the shots, Davis. You can ogle whoever you want. You can do whatever you want, I - Sarah told me she needs your cock every week, that’s fine, although Julie’s probably not happy but I won’t stand in your way.” Finally a break in her words, only because she had to take a breath. She was talking so fast now that only knowing the gist of what she’d been broken to accept gave him the tools to understand her.

“And if I wanted someone else as well?”

“Anything,” she promised him.

She couldn’t meet his eyes. The sheer rush of power was unreal.

“So… just how bad to you need me?”

She opened her coat, shrugged out of it, let it fall.

She’d clearly hoped to make this some kind of reward for him accepting her, but he’d held out too long. Her sneakers and bobby socks had been for outer camouflage; beneath them were white fishnet stockings, widely spaced, running up to a white leather garter belt. A pair of white silk panties sat atop the garters, making for fast removal if needed - and the silk already showed a growing stain from her excitement at having to do this.

Atop that was a white leather-look bustier, drawn tight enough to make her figure slimmer and add emphasis to her ass. The cups of the bustier, a little too small, presented her tits like an art gallery would show off a masterpiece.

Davis grinned.

In just over a month, he’d achieved a total break in her personality.

He reached out, taking one of her breasts in his hand. She cooed involuntarily, melting against him.

He wouldn’t even need to be mean to make her do anything he wanted. Which… now it came to it, he realised he didn’t want to be mean to her. He just wanted to rule her.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said, “and you can consider that your audition. Okay?”

“Anything,” she breathed.

The two of them went through to his bedroom, and Davis was so excited he’d already almost forgotten Marina and Sarah.

He’d have to figure that out later.