Annabelle Porter investigation

Good Afternoon Samantha, 

Sorry to get in contact with you so out of the blue and so late in the day too, but I'm at an impasse and honestly feel better documenting this with someone in journalism rather than on some crappy hard drive I could be convinced to wipe later. Does that have your attention, Sam? I've got quite the story for you but I'll ask you not to go anywhere with it until I'm finished or... I'm finished! If I don't send you an email after seven days have passed, feel free to assume me compromised or whatever fancy word you want to use. That goes for future emails too, consider it my deadline haha. 

I'm not the writer my sister is, or was. Her last letter to me was barely even legible, which is why I'm writing to you. If I just wanted to catch up and shoot the shit after years of not talking since high school I'd have reached out on socials or checked to see if your number is the same, but this is serious and so I've decided to communicate in a more fitting manner. Just be pleased I'm not mailing in, my handwriting is a fucking mess!

With that lengthy preamble over, you're probably wondering what this is all about. I've attached a series of letters my sister sent me since I left home, they should get you up to speed much quicker than I could. I feel a little weird sharing these but again I need this documented so why not with my trusted reporter buddy? Or, well, you work in the office with reporter folks at least right? I already tried the police and of course they didn't take this seriously, no surprise there right?

I'll be blunt. My sister, Anna, has been brainwashed. I understand how ridiculous that sounds but read those letters and you'll see what I mean. She's always been too straitlaced and uptight to play such a strange practical joke and besides, she's missing. By which I mean that I'm unable to find her or get in contact, at least. I tried to file a missing persons report and was told they got in contact and she confirmed that she's fine, no investigation needed. They wouldn't give me any more than that, where she was or any number or email. The old ones are a dead end. 

She's not fine, though. I don't understand how it's even possible but she's had her entire personality changed over the course of a year, gone from the smartest person I know aiming for a doctorate to some braindead slut. As far as I can tell she's being kept like a pet in some lesbian sex cult, I can only imagine they've been drugging her or something unless we just stepped onto the set of some pornographic sci fi movie. Look, I know how insane this all is, it took me a month to process what I read in those letters. I'm looking into this on my own but I just needed some insurance in case I'm in way over my head here, either that or I'm delusional and you need to send someone to come check on me. Don't be too hasty Sam, at least consider that I might not be before you get me sent away! 

Take your time with a response, I don't know if I expect to hear back from you or not. Spam filters these days, I wouldn't be surprised if this gets flagged. 

RE: Annabelle Porter investigation

Hi,

Crickets. I can't say I'm surprised but I'm hoping you're just processing my last email. I need you to understand that I'm being completely serious, that was Anna's handwriting in those letters. In any case, I've been doing some digging. Is that a thing they say where you work? I visited the dorm that my sister moved into when she started college I at least confirmed that what she wrote in those letters was true, a group of blondes visited her room frequently. Increasingly more often as the weeks went on until she was finally kicked out of her accommodation. I just assumed she meant they threw her out because she was no longer a student, but apparently they don't do that until the year's up usually. According to the girls I questioned, she was reported for inappropriate conduct and removed that way. It was a little vague, but I can put two and two together when reading the contents of those letters. I know my sister, Sam, that isn't like her at all. 

Here's the real kicker. I was there for ages trying to find the person who reported my sister but nobody would own up to it. I did manage to convince my way into her old room, though. I'm not going to sugar coat it, the place reeked of sex, some real frat house shit though I guess you could call them sorority sluts in this instance. I can't believe I'm using words like that in a sentence about Anna, this all feels like an elaborate April fools but I think we've missed the date considerably. They put those foam squares all over the walls, you know the zig-zag ones that online influencers use to soundproof their rooms. I looked it up and apparently they're not amazingly effective but even so, it got me thinking. This Maxine person could have been the one to report Anna herself as an excuse to get my sister living with her instead, some real underhanded cult tactic bullshit. What do you think???

I don't really have any other leads so I'm going to return there tomorrow and do some more asking around, I just don't know what else to do. Nobody claims to know Maxine, her name isn't even listed in the people taking Anna's major. That's including dropouts. 

Sam, 

If these are going to your spam folder I'm gonna be super pissed. In any case, I'm more just writing these for a backed up record and honestly? Personal catharsis. I really have become my sister, let's hope I don't meet the same fate. I could probably learn more caution to avoid that, to tell you the truth, as I had one heck of a day. I almost can't believe it myself and I was there, so I've got a fat chance of convincing world renowned sceptic Samantha Lane.

Like the subject line stated, I'm getting closer to the truth, though I'm not too sure how to retell this without seeming like some perverted lesbian voyeur. I've got a boyfriend for the record, though he sometimes goes by Connie so maybe I'm a little bi. Remember that godawful kiss back when we were in school? Those were simpler times, though you stole my first and I still don't forgive you for that! 

Okay, I'll try my best to summarise what happened without devolving into smut. I still need to consider that you might actually read these. Emphasis on try though, it was a wild fucking time. As I stated in yesterday's email, I returned to Anna's college dorm to ask around some more and maybe investigate her room more thoroughly if I could persuade the occupants. Well I was on my way up there when I spotted a gang of blondes and when I say gang, that's really the vibe they gave off. In the centre of their little group was a shy looking redhead who didn't fit well with them AT ALL. I think her glasses were too big for her, kept having to push the round things back up her nose... it was kind of adorable, but it also had a pit forming in my stomach. I thought, doesn't this seem familiar? A bookish girl being led around by giggling airheads. Suddenly I was worried that these were the bitches I was looking for, they dressed eerily similar to one another and just seemed far too vapid to be in college. I know that seems a harsh assessment given we were just passing by, but Sam it was cartoonish, like stereotypical depiction of a bimbo. I've worn a blonde wig and blown bubbles in the bedroom before to entertain Connor's kinks and I swear they were outdoing me here, out in public!

Of course I followed them, desperate and reckless as I am, all the way back to that mousy ginger's room. I'm not a complete idiot, however, I kept my distance and noted down the room number so I could investigate it later without making myself a target for the blonde bunch. I'm not really their type, I suppose, already dropped out without any need for intervention on their part. Anna wasn't among them anyway, or I'd have grabbed her arm and yanked it so hard it knocked the dye out of her hair. 

So you know when I said I'm not a complete idiot? Perhaps I was too hasty, haha. I left for lunch at a local place Anna used to take me to all the time, kind of embarrassing how much she acted the parent to me when we popped out seconds apart but what can you do? It was pretty nice, nostalgic, but who did I spot on the other side of the street but that blonde posse sans redhead walking into town? They stand out pretty well, so it didn't need a second glance. I wolfed down my meal like a girl possessed and practically sprinted back to the dorm, turns out I didn't need to note down the room number as it was seared into my memory anyway. Polite gal I am, I knocked on the door and waited patiently for a response. I couldn't be sure if the girl was with them or not from the view through sandwich shop window, they did seem to surround her rather disquietingly. No answer, it only made me more curious. If she was in there, would it be right to leave things be? They could have done anything to her right?

I contemplated breaking in but when I tried the handle the door was unlocked anyway. I guess it's still breaking in if I'm an uninvited guest? I should probably know this, I wanted to be a lawyer once upon a time, when I didn't realise how fucking hard that is. With as innocent a whistle as I could blow, I let myself into the girl's room cautiously. Wouldn't be a great look if I got caught, the police already know me. Room was empty, to clarify this dorm has single rooms rather than shared ones which is probably why Maxine's gang chose it as their 'hunting grounds' or whatever you'd like to call it. God I'm such a dork, I was treating this college dorm room like a crime scene but can you blame me when I lost my only family to these weirdos? So yeah, I combed the place for evidence. Imprints on the bed that showed where they had been sitting, random candy wrappers thrown about in a mess, a vibrator sitting on the desk with no batteries and a few rings of different coloured lipstick reaching down to the base of the shaft. Guess they were taking turns but couldn't turn the damn thing on, it was at this point I should have realised where they were going in town and... that they wouldn't be long at all.

Like a scene out of a corny movie, I heard the handle of the door turn and felt temperature leave my body. In that moment I was sub-zero, pale as a sheet, mind scrambling for control over my fingers and toes. I knew all too well what being caught could lead to and so I wrestled my limbs back under control and hid myself in the closet. As if it wasn't tropey enough, right? Probably the most surreal moment of my adult life. 

The girls spilled inside, giggles and gossip, sitting the redhead on the bed while they took turns telling her she'd be prettier blonde... or that she needs to relax... or that her wardrobe needs to cater for when she doesn't have a funeral to attend, too. You get the picture, unlike Anna this timid creature was far too passive. Or perhaps my sister was like this too after they softened her up, whatever they do it's fucking effective. The girl just ate it all up meekly, tensing up when a trio of blondes clambered onto her mattress to surround her while the others set batteries into toy and watched it whirr to life. 

I watched through the slits in the closet door like I was a final girl, if one of these blondes was Maxine I certainly couldn't tell which. They certainly didn't do much talking, which surprised me given how wordy Annabelle proclaimed her 'bestie' to be during their one on ones. I realised I had no way of telling if they used the same methods for every girl or how 'far along' this one was by now. You see how abnormal all of this is? If I go missing too, please don't sleep on this story, you always had such a twinkle in your eye when you talked about journalistic integrity and all that crap. 

This where the real fun begins. Two of the girls clinging to redhead's arms unwrapped some red fruit lollipop and started tracing it over her lips. At first they just did that for a while, mousy's lips taking on a nice candy sheen, but when the one holding her shoulders from behind leaned down and whispered something... so close her tongue was practically in the poor thing's ear... the girl's lips finally parted as if pried open by phantom fingers. She started sucking on the lolly as they giggled and called her a good girl, you could see the panic in her eyes slowly fade as she stroked her tongue over cherry red. Even in my letterbox view I watched her expression transform, those eyes starting to glaze, just what were they giving her? Last I checked sugar isn't a sedative, right? 

Fingers crept over her knees and traced up her thighs while she was distracted. The other blondes finally figured out how to put the batteries in the vibrator and it dawned on me that these bimbos are probably as dumb as they act, they were probably just like Anna and this redhead once upon a time. They descended upon the dazed girl like a pack of hungry wolves, removing her glasses and letting her hair down with accompanying giggles that told her it was all just silly fun. A hand from either side pulled her legs apart while fingers in front pressed against her underwear to check something. If she was wet? I guess I can buy that the candy they're giving her is an aphrodisiac too, why the hell not at this point right? They seemed more than satisfied, pulling the panties to one side as they stuffed her sex with that buzzing toy, a palm applying gentle pressure until it burrowed all the way inside. 

The moans still ring in my ears. She panted and groaned and cried in one moment, only for that strange candy and the constant hushed giggles to wash it all away. In those moments of 'enlightenment' as I heard one of them jokingly refer to it, the girl would simply blank out or let out long and mindless strings of empty giggling. As dumb as she was overstimulated, tongues filling her ears in stereo and telling her god knows what when they weren't plugging them up entirely. 

By the time her first orgasm came, she wasn't herself anymore. They had her reciting the alphabet backwards at first, but when that proved too difficult told her to do it in the usual order. It was a good effort, but they tended to tweak her body somewhere or play with the vibrator between her legs whenever she started doing well and in the never end she never made it all the way through. In fact, she started getting much, much worse as the teasing continued. After a while it was like she'd drooled out half the letters, letting out an airy giggle every time she had to admit she didn't remember what came next. 

I told you this would be difficult to write without it seeming like my hazy sex dreams but I promise you it happened. When she eventually passed out, the blondes just left her on the bed and took the toy with them. I'll admit I was too paranoid to leave the closet for a while after, something I know you never had much trouble with. Eventually I found the courage to pry open that flimsy wooden door and stepped over to the bed. Standing over that still panting redhead, breathing in potent arousal as my eyes traced down the stains on her face and dripping down her messy tights... I think I imagined my sister in a similar state and the reality of all of this hit me. I softly opened her mouth and she moaned the second I touched her, back arching up towards me as a new source of pleasure. Carefully I plucked the candy from her mouth, the replacement they gave her towards the end after she finished the first. It was still half there, glistening with spit and reflecting light from the room blindingly. Thinking I could use it for something, evidence maybe, I took it and fled. 

This email is getting too long, but please bear with me. Maybe I'm worried I won't be quite so verbose in the near future! Seriously, I'm worried. Let me explain, this was just an hour ago as of writing this but... I realised that taking the candy didn't really do much for me. I couldn't go take it to be analysed at a lab like on television nor could I trust the police to do anything other than throw it in the trash the moment my back's turned. My stupid brain kept replaying that insanity from the dorm room and I'm ashamed to admit how heated I got, sitting alone in my hotel room. As messed up as the situation was, my straightness was being put to the test trying not to get off to such an exhilarating experience. That's got to be a formative memory even at my age, right? I pushed that sticky coating against my lips and brushed it over them just like how I'd seen them do it to her, before taking into my mouth and testing it first hand. 

I won't tell you I was disappointed when it had no effect on me, that would be far too humiliating to admit. It's been lonely here and I left my pot at Connor's place, that's all. Still, I intend to make the most of that rash impulse and get myself tested for drugs tomorrow, claiming that I think I was spiked or something and I'm worried over what's in my system. Sure, they'll find the weed too, but sacrifices must be made and it's basically legal here anyway right?

I think I've been drugged, but nobody believes me!

No, not from the lollipop. At least not that I'm aware of, though perhaps they're lying about that too? I took the test like I said in my email last week and the results came back negative, at least for anything I wasn't expecting. Just a normal piece of candy as far as medical science is concerned, so that lead was shot. I felt pretty down, haven't had enough to send you another email for a while and given the radio silence I'm not seeing much urgency. 

At least I wasn't until what went down the other day. I finally met her, Maxine. I told you I'd been going around asking about Anna a whole lot, right? Well things were finally looking up for me after days of getting nowhere. I was approached by a girl in the dorm who quickly reminded me with her looks that blondes can be elegant too, I'd been far too accustomed with airheads since delving down this rabbit hole I must admit. She dressed smart and carried herself well, how was I supposed to know she was the ringleader of those sluts who took my sister?

She told me her name was Angel, her long pink nails practically digging into my hand when she offered a shake. Her presence was intimidating somehow, like she was assessing me with no stone left unturned through the rose gold frame of her glasses. The eyewear was as sharp as the stare they housed, quite an effective combination for making those they set upon feel small and unworthy. Angel told me she had information about my sister but that she wanted to speak somewhere safer, more neutral. Despite standing in such a public place I didn't question her, no, I couldn't. 

I was given instructions to meet her in the library, top floor, and in a flash she was gone. The short exchange was such a blur, though my watch told me otherwise. I've been watching rapid induction hypnosis videos online for the past hour as paranoia stirs, there's no chance in hell that she used that brief handshake to hypnotise me right? Like even I think I sound crazy here, but I'm watching videos of it being done and even if they seem fake as shit to me people swear they're legit. It was strange to shake hands in that context though, I never really questioned it at the time. 

The only thought that crossed my mind when I sat down at the table on the college library's top floor was: "Is this the table that Anna was sitting at when she hosted that ill fated study group?"

I'd find out very soon that it was, Angel pulling up a chair to my right and leaning elbows on the table with an impish grin I had trouble figuring out. I still trusted her more than I should have, especially when she told me to with that hand gently stroking my forearm. Her allure was unmatched, like her very perfume was laced with mind altering chemicals that made me play along. Hell, maybe it was, it did smell really good after all. Before I could really question what she was doing there was a screen on the table attracting my gaze. No, not some tacky spiral on her phone, though it was just as effective at holding my full attention. 

Angel was showing me a playback from the camera in the corner of the room, I whipped my head around and sure enough the thing was recording us then and there, too. It wasn't a live feed I was being shown, however, but a playback of the study session Anna wrote to me about. It was strange seeing the scene I read on that letter playing out before my very eyes from such a curious angle. I was so focused on the scene on that phone that I didn't question why Angel had the footage, it was tunnel vision to an extreme degree but can you blame me for it? I hadn't seen her in so long and here Anna was, still herself too. We never really got along but she's my twin, I was too happy to see her that it blinded me. 

Still, that breath against my neck had my hairs standing on end. When I moved Angel snapped her fingers and told me I was going to miss the big reveal. As though Anna was in danger in real time, I snapped my eyes back onto the playback while my heart pounded uncontrollably. I was beginning to realise just who this girl was, recognising that smug grin she wears on the girl whispering to Anna. Just as she whispered to me, in fact. Though it wasn't just whispering, the next moment is what really took the breath from my lungs. 

That blonde ditz on the screen who looked a lot like Angel pulled something out of her bag while Anna strained her eyes, trying to read without her glasses and somehow not noticing the threat looming over her shoulder. At the time I remember wanting to scream at her for that, what a hypocrite. I had to strain my own eyes to make out the thin object in Maxine's hand but once I did, I thought my heart had stopped. It was a fucking syringe! As it plunged into my sisters neck on the handheld screen, directly where I was sitting in the present moment, I slowly turned my head and watched as matching needle descended into my neck and felt woozy immediately. I was too hot, too cold, too paralysed with confusion and worry and... well, I can't think of a third thing right now. I'm still shaken up, Sam, I'll get back to you on that okay? Promise. 

The bitch drugged me and I let her sashay away like she owned the place. Like she owned me. In that moment I wanted her to, whatever she injected me with must have made me feel that way. I felt so guilty, having forgotten about my sister's plight entirely in that brief window of disarray. When I returned to my senses I ran out after her but the girl was gone and the city was dark, how long had I been like that? I felt like that redhead, except my cunt was dry. Mostly. 

I had to pony up and pay for another test but they found nothing unusual, when I started ranting about being injected they checked for a puncture mark where I KNOW it happened and said they found nothing. I feel like they think I'm delusional, but when I got home it was there. I can only assume that she's paying them off or maybe they're under her thrall too? I know it sounds crazy, but she definitely injected me with something and it's being covered up.

I'm going to try and get the video evidence from that camera one way or another, it's the only thing that can prove beyond any doubt that I'm telling the truth. 

RE: I think I've been drugged, but nobody believes me!

Sam,

I figured it all out, she's toying with me, that's all this is. I don't even remember when it must have happened, but this Maxine or Angel or whatever her name is... she hypnotised me. I've been doing a ton of research into hypnosis and it's all piecing together so easily now. Hypnotic induction, fractionation, post-hypnotic suggestions, altered mental states, maybe even altered perception. She's been messing with me, making me look delusional because I WAS. I've been running around for the past week convinced she was using drugs but Sam, she's a fucking psych major. My sister warned me not to mess with them, the human mind is like play putty for them! Okay, most are probably regular boring students but not this one. 

I keep seeing her everywhere I go. Every time I think I have a lead, think I'm getting close, she resets me back to the starting line with that saccharine smile that she's burned into my retinas. I'll be walking in public and feel a tug on my arm that pulls me down and loses me another afternoon. I'll be in the dorm and her gang will carry me off to the restroom and ruin my makeup against the tiles while my underwear slides to my ankles and bedazzled fingers fill me. I'll be in the hotel lobby when the lights on the vending machine cause me to space out and buy her a snack to hand over when next we meet. She's not even touching my IQ like she had Annas, I guess mine isn't worth the trouble!

I'm worried she's just going to claim my mind eventually. I feel like whether I run into her or not, by which I mean whether or not she has time to waste on her barking toy, I'm hypnotised at least once a day now. Sometimes I hypnotise myself, I catch myself swaying and I giggle like those dumb whores who I felt so jealous of in the past. It was much easier to think she'd drugged me, then it would mean that I'm not responsible and I could seek help from proper authority. 

But you know what makes this so much more shameful? I told you I've been researching hypnosis, right? Well unlike on tv or in the movies, you have to want to be hypnotised for it to work properly. Have to invite and accept it, or at the very least be open. This could still mean a compromised mind, but I don't think it's supposed to let you make people do things they don't want to. Am I letting her do this to me? Am I her willing toy? 

I never told you how excited I get when I do my research, it's just so fascinating. I'm not myself anymore, she's making me want it. Isn't that wrong? I wonder if it made Anna this hot and bothered too, I'll have to read those letters again. Actually, I'm scared of what I might do if I touch them right now. Please tell me you're getting these emails, I don't know where else to send them. I don't know a lot of things these days, my world's become so narrow. It's just all about her. 

Abigail Porter <abiporter@notmail.com>

Good morning,

I finally met her face to face again. Honestly it was such a relief after the headache of a cat and mouse game in which I felt ill equipped to gain upper hand. I don't think I wanted to, in any case. Like I stated in my previous email, if the hypnosis is this effective then I must want it right? Angel told me as much when I met her again and it made so much more sense coming from her lips, like it all just clicked into place with a firm snapping of her fingers. It's an addictive sound, that snap. 

We sat down in a cafe looking like an ordinary pair of friends after she tipped me off to her location. I never told anyone I was going of course, I'm telling you now. Her foot crawled up my nylons and made me realise how much I'd been craving her touch since last time. That breath in my ear still lingered from the library, her needle mark permanently throbbing my neck. Did Anna secretly want it too? If so, who am I to intervene with their happy ending? It isn't like she asked me for help. 

Angel seemed amused by how worked up I was, by how much internal justification I had ran through over and over like a mobius strip of pathetic pleading. She asked me if I wanted to be with my sister again and without considering the implications of her question I nodded desperately, just wanting her to explain why I was so weak to her hypnosis. It didn't make sense. The blonde just grinned and said "What are you talking about, I drugged you didn't I?"

Either way I'm hers, if I latch onto one or the other I still fall deeper into her grasp and find my own wants ever more distant. She puts me in a box where no third option even exists, I'm so attracted to everything about her that I forget I even have a boyfriend. Men are unappealing in the face of her, women too, nothing compares. She had me from the very first handshake, I should have been more careful. 

Anna mentioned something about wanting to be this woman's personal whore and for the first time in our lives we truly see eye to eye, even if I feel terrible in such an admission. Denying it only means turning away from it, making the want fester and grow. I've extended my hotel stay twice now, I'm not even trying to save Anna I'm just addicted to this game. None of the authorities trust me, I'm probably already on some watchlist. It was so pathetic of me to warn Angel about this, I told her she'd need to be careful in claiming me. Again she laughed me off, her voice so powerful even in light hearted laughter. 

Eventually she cut me off and started talking. Sam, she spoke for over an hour and I don't remember a word. All I know is that I'm more addicted and less perceptive than ever. The woman could be in my hotel room right now watching me type this email and if she didn't want me to notice her I simply wouldn't. 

She could be stroking long nails over my thigh, her other hand squeezing my chin and keeping my head held up so I don't fall too deep and lose my ability to type. She could be blowing into my ear again and injecting me with words more potent than any drug, chest flat against my back as I relax against her. I'm in her lap, comfortable and safe, knowing I'll be reunited with Anna at long last very soon. 

Or she could be at home, it hardly matters. I'm going to fall into trance either way, because it's what I want. I must have a hypnosis fetish, I remember feeling horrified when I first read Anna's letters but I just read through them again and god, they're so fucking hot. You can tell she loves it, every step of the way. Every loss is a new level of pleasure, she'd take that over being smart any day of the week. I'm her twin sister, I know these things. I wish I could see it before, that Anna's happier now than she's ever been in her life. I only hope that when she sees me again that happiness can blossom even further. 

I've had one hell of a day. It started out with me aimlessly wandering, searching for her as I often do. I was following the scent of fresh bread like some stray when it happened, Angel's pretty fingers lacing into mine. They must be laced with something, because I felt so high when I realised who was suddenly holding my hand. I melted into the touch gloriously, becoming docile and content, I must have adopted that same sedated look in my glazed over eyes as that redhead sucking on candy. 

Lucky me, though, getting to hold her hand. I felt like a giddy schoolgirl being accepted by her crush, the woman not even paying any attention to me as we walked the city streets hand in hand. She finally asked me if I could guess when she first hypnotised me, the trance that started it all, saying she'd let me go if I got it right. That only made me want to never know, I didn't even want to throw a guess out in case I could be right and sabotage that perfect moment. I think I amused her again, which made me wet like my libido was experiencing flash flooding. I could barely walk, legs shaking, completely enamoured in an unnatural excitement that had the streets a blur. The people staring at me were so difficult to make out, fading into background while Angel was all that I could see. 

At this point, I've fully accepted that I want to be hers. That Anna wants to be hers, too. You'll see. I'm only typing this about because you might also want to be hers, she's very accommodating. As she led me to her home, a place I'd have no chance in hell of drawing a map to in the haze I was in walking there, I hypnotised myself with the back of her head. Such dazzling blonde hair, no wonder Annie wanted it too. I'm so good at trance now, I've been doing so much studying, hypnosis is like my only hobby. Angel said she can fractionate me into being in a waking trance basically 24/7, like telling an addict they never have to experience another come down. 

Angel took me into her home and I was overwhelmed by the amount of naked women, my sister among them, that came to greet us in the entrance. It's a big house, not an apartment, with six bedrooms in total. Only Angel's favourites get to join her in the master bedroom so there's a slightly competitive energy in the house. I think that's fun, though, even if the nudity is a little startling at first. I'm obviously a homosexual if I'm lusting over Angel so much, so I think it's only a matter of time before I start enjoying this airheaded harem too. Maybe hypnosis can help?

I'm in one of the bedrooms now, borrowing a laptop covered in more sapphic stickers than I thought there'd be a market for. Guess you always liked your stickers too, Sam! I wish I weren't such a bad kisser back then, I remember feeling heartbroken when you said it was just okay and then dated a different girl months later. We joked about it, right? We thought I was straight so no harm done. I think I was jealous of that girl, that's why I wrote such awful things on her locker and got in so much trouble. 

Abigail Porter <abiporter@notmail.com>

Are you real, Sam? Or just another delusion planted to mess with me? I don't really mind if you're fake, I love when mistress plays with my mind and my emotions like that. It's really hot to just not be in control at all, you know? My life was so stressful before, so many little choices that seemed so big at the time. I don't make any choices anymore, I'm just Angel's slut. Sometimes she goes by Maxine, or Maddie, or Connie. Isn't that last one funny? Maybe my boyfriend wasn't real either, just a hypnotic mirage. It doesn't really matter, thinking too much makes me sleepy. 

It's been a while since I was able to send you an email like this, real or not, so I'm pretty excited! I let Angel hypnotise me every day, she uses me for demonstrations and I even let the other girls practice on me too. I got pretty close with redhead, she's no longer shy at all, actually the most extroverted of the bunch. Angel explained that she gets off on twisting girls she likes into their opposites, so now that girl I once spied on uses me like a stress toy from time to time and my toes always curl when I have to guess what flavour candy coats her tongue. I always get it wrong, I'm as dumb as my sister even if it's not as obvious. 

Speaking of Anna, we're reunited at last! Because I let everyone hypnotise me all the time like a free use slut, Angel took a liking to me and rewarded my efforts with a place in her bed. We all get a custom pillow in the master bedroom, I'll treasure it always. A girl was giggling so cutely as she ate me out last night and it took until the second orgasm to recognise my own twin sister. Of course the moment I realised who it was with their face buried between my legs, I wrapped them around her head tightly and kept her light on breath for the next half hour. I spent half of that in trance when a couple took advantage of my hyper suggestibility and started hypnotising me with their incomprehensible babble. Just knowing they were trying to get me under was enough to have my strings cut anyway, which only made them giggle more. Naturally, I joined in and Angel called me an "easygoing slut, just like your sister" and said that I'm the only one there who didn't need to have their intelligence drained to make them obey. I'm stupid enough as it is, clearly. God I felt so humiliated, so degraded, that I was thankful to be in deep trance. 

I slept in a sweaty tangle with Annie, she's so much more fun now, she must have been repressing her true self for all those years. My twin sister's just a bubbly bimbo and myself a sultry slut, at least those are what we're told to repeat in the mirror together as this week's homework. Sometimes we get confused and mix up who's what, which makes us giggle in sync and feel closer than ever. I truly love my sister. As family, sure, but also in a tonguefucking way. True love. 

I think I love you too Sam, these girls fill me with so much love I need to find more outlets... I've been thinking a lot about what could've been, about how I probably used your career and my sister's disappearance as a flimsy excuse to try and reconnect because I couldn't just admit I missed you. How shameful is that? I'm really glad I don't make my own decisions anymore. I think I was just nervous when you kissed me before, it was so sudden and I didn't have a lot of air in my lungs and you always made me so flustered like that. It wasn't fair that you said it was just okay, I needed a second chance. I still do, okay? I'd cover your body in so many kisses you'd go dizzy, your head would twist off and you'd be all mindless and perfect. You could have a cushion here too, one with your name on it, smeared in lipstick and spit. 

Hi,

You're probably wondering why I'm reaching out like this after not hitting you up for so long, so first of all I wanted to apologise for that. You were one of my best friends in school and I miss you so much, Sam. I guess sometimes I find running away from anything I have complicated feelings on is easier than actually facing and owning them. Around a year and a half ago I pulled the same shit with Anna, just up and left when I felt the smallest amount of tension as if our entire relationship was about to fray and snap. Well it sure would if I went to another city and pulled the thread so taut with such distance. 

I'm embarrassed and relieved to confess that this isn't actually the first email I've sent to you this year, but it turns out I'd been sending them to that old account you said you'd been locked out of. Honestly? Good riddance, they were poorly worded and confusing, I want to do this right. 

By 'this' I mean, I want to ask you out to coffee. I've been doing a lot of self discovery lately and I can't help but feel that you're the infamous 'one that got away' so to speak, even if I never realised I held such feelings at the time. Did you notice? I sure hope not, or you'd be a pretty callous bitch! Emphasis on pretty, I suppose. So yeah I'm asking you out in a romantic sense even if it's probably a bad idea, I'm still game for a platonic cup of joe too though if you're seeing someone or simply have more common sense than I do. Happy to do whatever, I think I just need to get you out of my system at the very least. Just wish I knew I liked girls back when there was one eager enough to kiss me. One who liked the same games as me too, though you might've grown out of that. Fingers crossed that you haven't, you can come back to my place after coffee and I'll kick your ass so hard you'd have no choice but to agree to a second date. 

Consider it anyway, could be fun to shoot the shit. 

Samantha Lane watches the city pass her by from the tinted window of her overpriced taxi cab, wondering how much of her impressive fee will actually go to the man in front of her. She decides to leave a generous tip, only because she's in a good mood today. The woman cannot help but laugh at her own enthusiasm, having read that sweet email from her old best friend at least ten times over with a wider smile each time. Such endearing words that betray nervousness even in their revised form. Of course Sam missed Abigail just as much, felt just as guilty for not reaching out either. It was just like Abby not to consider the two way street a friendship is. 

The woman checks her phone intermittently to see if her account recovery has come through yet, secretly desperate to read those other emails sent to her even when Abigail told her not to. It only makes her all the more curious, wanting to gorge herself on the trainwreck that is her childhood crush's awkward first attempts at reconnecting. Waking up last week to discover that Abigail was a lesbian and that she still harboured feelings for Sam felt like something out of one of her books, though she can't help but agree that it's probably a bad idea. Even so, she wants to give it a shot and would be down to return to being friends who actually keep in touch should dating not pan out. 

Still can't get into those old emails, such a shame. She had planned to tease Abigail with them and watch those pretty cheeks of hers gain a nice rosy hue. With light pout, Sam steps out of the taxi and finds that she's already being waved to from across the street. Abby sits by the glass, staring through it to meet eyes with her childhood friend. 

"Wow, I can't believe how different you look. All grown up, it's only been two years but you're like... full blown adult, it's a little intimidating." Abigail Porter acts her usual self, setting Sam at ease when she reluctantly agrees with such an embarrassing assessment. 

"Well I traded shorts for pencil skirts but not much else is different, really. I still can't get enough of your bullshit, Abby, it's got a stranglehold on me I swear! That email was so cute and so... you." The woman finds herself relaxing, leaning on the table as she idly sips her pistachio iced latte. 

Abigail gives an impish smile she picked up from a close friend, blushing already. "You think I'm cute, then?"

With a nervous glance down at her drink, Sam flicks her gaze back up and nods with an affirmative. "Mm." A notification lights up her phone screen but the woman ignores it, leaning forwards as she plays with her straw. "Always. I remember when I tried to tease you about that kiss we shared back in school... I wanted to get you fired up for another but you went all quiet and I guess I must've said something wrong? I cried a lot that night, is... is that oversharing?"

A hand falls over Samantha's, telling her that it isn't. "Communication between two free thinking individuals is messy and complicated, I think everyone's terrible at it most of the time. Wouldn't it be great if you could just, like, never have that problem again?"

Sam laughs, enjoying the touch more than she lets on. "Oh yeah, that'd be a riot. You can do something about my executive dysfunction too, right?" 

"What if I said I could?" Abigail replies almost instantly, a strange glint in her eyes. The woman's earnest smile is enough to let Sam not dwell too hard on that look, but she pulls her hand back and pockets her phone anyway. "A-are you going?"

"God you're still so needy, Abby. I'm just going to the ladies room, if you must pry for insider knowledge I think the date's going pretty well so far. Stop fretting, it's a turn on." Samantha winks and heads to the restroom with a smile, letting out a soft sigh as she drops her hands onto the sink bowl in front of her and stares at her hastily applied makeup. "Why did I come in here..." She mutters under her breath, figuring she just needed a quick break from that swell of rediscovered emotion she faced when Abby held her hand. The girl seems identical to the one she knew, but almost too perfectly so, is she just delirious for thinking something so unreasonable?

Sam takes her phone out and stares at the notification she received during her cute moment with Abigail, her eyes suddenly lighting up at the words as she forgets her strange thought in an instant. Finally she has some perfect ammunition for if Abby grows too cocky over the date. "Your account has been recovered successfully... ha!" She slips into one of the empty stalls, currently having her pick of the lot, before unlocking her phone and signing into her old email at long last. 

"Good Afternoon Samantha... Christ, that's formal. Let's see..."

Samantha Lane feels cold all over, eyes glued to her phone screen as her fingers threaten to bend the glass in their iron grip. She's on the final email now, having made her date wait patiently while she found herself unable to stop reading. Sam knew something was very wrong from the first email, Abigail never once mentioned something bad happening to Anna while she sat smiling with a coffee and a cake. 

"Is... is this a prank?" Is all she can think, unable to process the insanity that she just scrolled through. If all of that madness she just read is true, then...

The woman sharply inhales and pulls her feet up from the ground when she hears the restroom door creak open. A set of slow footsteps make their way over to her stall in a daunting beeline, boots she wishes she didn't recognise pushing under the stall door, pointed directly at her like they have eyes of their own. 

"Is everything okay, Sam? You've been in here a long time. Need some help?" Abigail speaks so normally, but after what she just read and the way she stands so close, Samantha knows better. 

A long silence fills the next two minutes, though it feels more like twenty to Sam, before Abigail finally speaks up again. This time her voice seems a little different, more fanatical. "Did you read my silly emails, Sam, is that it? I can't think of another reason you'd give me the silent treatment, hehe... uhm... did you read them properly? I'm very happy now and... and you can be happy too. With me, with her, I said as much in my emails right? Did you read them closely, Sam? Can I come in?" 

"N-not right now! I'm on the toilet, jeez!" Sam's heart pounds at breakneck speeds, she has to assume it a new record. Her foot presses down on the door when Abigail begins to try and slide the lock from the other side, the woman having no idea what to do. How much of that absurd series of emails to take seriously. It feels very real to her now at least, if this is a prank then she'll be happy to never see Abby again for almost giving her a heart attack over this. "Are you... really hypnotised?"

"Yeah... I'm super good at it, you could probably hypnotise me too... oh, though not while I'm out on an assignment." Sam swallows drily at the words, she's just an assignment to Abigail now. "I don't understand why you're pretending to struggle when you're already hypnotised..." 

"What?" Sam's voice is tiny, making her embarrassed for sounding so hoarse. 

"That email I sent you last week installed a computer virus that's been hypnotising you for days now, making you highly suggestible and ready to be acquired.... by me, Angel's good girl." Abby's voice sounds so dreamy when she speaks of her owner and so matter-of-fact when describing the most impossible of scenarios. 

"That's not possible, that makes no sense. I-I don't believe you." 

"Maybe it is. It probably is. But you considered it, didn't you? Considered believing it? That means a part of you considers it true, right? That's how she got me too... it's like the doubt turns an obvious fiction into new reality. I still don't know when she first hypnotised me, maybe she never did!"

"That's... not real... that's insane..." Sam's throat is dry, her foot still flat against the door.

"Then why do you sound so worried?" A voice speaks so plainly from the other side of the stall and Sam does not recognize the speaker. Did somebody else enter the restroom while she was distracted? 

Abigail holds her phone against the door with a placid smile, proud of herself for cornering Samantha so easily for her mistress. 

"Samantha, honey, are you listening? Ah, I'll take that silence as resounding confirmation that you are, I suppose it makes it easier for me. I'm just going to talk and you're going to listen, okay? Then we'll let you go. Didn't you notice that my Abby's not actually trying to get inside, she's keeping you from leaving. You can make a scene of course and the staff will come to your rescue, but you won't do that. That's something that bad girls do... I don't think that's what you are, Samantha. I know a part of you is aware of how powerful my suggestions are, of how fated you are to fall under my words' spell and let them fulfil you in ways you could only dream of in that dead end job you big up to your friends. You've irrefutable evidence that both Porter twins fell for me rather quickly and well, they had much stronger wills than you ever did. Isn't that right?"

Sam isn't sure what to say, too distracted by the nauseating logic from that smug voice on the phone to remember that she should be kicking up a scene like the woman says. Instead she finds herself playing stubborn, not realising that she's only playing into the game by answering at all. Of course if she doesn't, that suits Angel just as well. Anything to have her forget commotion. 

"No, you're wrong... y-you drugged them, didn't you? There's no other explanation... hypnosis isn't r--"

"Real? You're right of course, dear, quite the astute observation. Hypnosis is just a smoke and mirrors explanation for my real method, the chemical I injected into the lovely twins' necks and of course, those I had her drop into your delightful looking latte." 

"I... oh... no, that's--"

"Just something I made up to scare you? Right you are once again, I'm not some evil chemist! So where are we at now, back to hypnosis again? I must've turned these two cuties into my willing slaves somehow, right? No third option in the box~ Don't even go looking, you'll just get even more confused than you already are. You know that being confused only makes you easier to manipulate, right? More suggestible and narrow minded, like dear Abby."

A foot slides down the stall door and Samantha pulls her legs together, wondering what she's supposed to do. If she did cause a scene, she'd no doubt lose her chance at seeing Abigail again. Still, she feels in over her head and so, so confused. "A... third option? That's it... there's some other explanation. Both of those are absurd so... so..."

"Because they wanted it? Because they liked it? Being mine must be so great if both of these girls willingly offered themselves to me, kind of a tempting offer to a woman so lonely she'd travel to another city for a date she knew wouldn't lead anywhere serious. One with no real career prospects, who secretly hoped her date might offer to pay so chivalrously after she blew her precious cash on a taxi with heated seats." 

Samantha feels that voice pushing into her head like greedy fingers, pinching at her insecurity and making her feel so naked it's pushing all else into the background. "How... how could you know..."

"Abigail's told me a lot, she really meant it when she said she loved you in that email. Then again, she loves anyone I tell her to, but you're still special. Probably. Do you like feeling special, Samantha? Or do you prefer to be treated like the dirt you truly are?" The cloying smugness never ends, Sam realising that she really does feel like dirt when listening to it scramble her thoughts like whisk to an egg. 

"I'm not..."

"You're not sure, because you're confused. That's okay, I'm sorry I've confused you so much though I must confess I did so intentionally. Not without purpose, mind, I wanted you more malleable. Abigail's done so much research into hypnosis, she thinks you can't make people fall into trance if they don't want to, that you can't make people act in a way they otherwise would not. She thinks she knows these things for a fact and this blind spot made her stupid and easy to control. Stupidly easy to control, I mean. You're going to make that same mistake now, convince yourself you know better than to buy into such a silly fantasy. I'll turn that around on you and fit you snugly in my palm. You'll be eating my pussy and begging for forgiveness before it even gets dark and oh these winters..."

If she was not already confused, Samantha certainly is now. A part of her understands, vaguely, what she's being told, while the rest of her is beginning to hold on for dear life. "I... uhm, then I won't. I mean, I won't deny the possibility... but, ah..."

Laughter rings out of the speakers on Abigail's phone along with a mocking round of applause. "So then, you admit that hypnosis can be used to make you do things you ordinarily would not? I mean you've got proof right in front of you girl, so what point is there in denying it? Not when you've already accepted it, my inductions have a no refunds policy I'm afraid!" 

"Induction?"

"What else did you think this was, girl? You're far too slow and boring for a chat that would interest me, so I suppose your mind is forfeit. I'll take good care of it, you can make yourself the filling in a twin sandwich for my amusement without having to pretend any longer that you wouldn't want that. Wouldn't love that. Revel in it, like a pig rolling around in the mud, just a dirty girl with dirty thoughts that pile up in her dirty mind. Believe me I know how it is to grow up gay in a school with no obvious takers, the fantasies we held, right? About close friends, faculty, maybe even family I won't judge."

Sam feels smaller than an ant, Angel's oppressive words rays of sun shining onto her through Abigail's magnifying lens. The blazing heat melts away her sense of judgement, she forgets that she's not forced to sit and listen like this, feeling as she did when she was little and got in trouble with an adult. Those adults seemed oh so mighty and infallible back then, Angel producing the effect magnificently. "Abby..."

"Abigail belongs to me, Samantha. She's much happier for it as you read, don't deny that fact just because the methods used to get there don't sit well with your moral compass. Regardless of the means, Abigail is happier as my loyal slut. The moment you realise you can't deny that is the moment you have no choice but to accept that resisting me means forsaking your own potential happiness. Who cares if it's artificial? What isn't these days, right? Whatever comfort you find sitting in front of the TV at home is just as fake and pacifying, just far less effective and rewarding. It's all aesthetics, dear, something I'll teach you to care very little about once you start smiling at your own smeared face in the mirror, hair matted to your head and tits covered in writing that means something to somebody, somewhere. Do you understand yet?"

"I... I don't. Don't understand..." 

"That's okay, I can tell you're not the brightest in the bunch, if you'd like I could help you understand. Would you like a little help, Samantha? You need help right? You've found yourself in a strange, surreal and uncomfortable situation and a current of confusion has pulled out out into far tide. I'm offering a life raft, but you only have one chance to accept it. Doesn't it make the most sense to choose for yourself the option that leads to the most comfort. We should always make decisions in our best interests and if we can't... do we really even deserve to make our own decisions?"

"I..."

"No, that's okay sweetie. I'm going to make your mind up for you this time. If you were capable of making your own decisions you would have struggled more now wouldn't you? Unless you secretly wanted to be mine too, just like the Porter twins?"

"I..."

"I told you to shush, silly. The decision's made, you're going to hop aboard that life raft and float nicely along to safety. To the safety of my control, my decisions, safe from your own poor choices and all they entail. Only happiness waits for you now, Samantha, do you really think yourself cognizant enough to deny that as your best option?"

"I..."

"I thought not. Now open the door, Abigail's there. You love her don't you? She loves you, so it's only fair~" 

A ditzy smile creeps onto Samantha's face as she considers her old crush, how she had fallen for her all over again reading that email. But if Angel was the true author... does that mean she fell for Angel? With sluggish motion the woman unlocks the stall door and lets it swing open, her favourite Porter standing there with an empty smile and open arms. 

Tentatively, Sam moves onto her feet and accepts the hug, craving that same feeling Abby's touch gave her earlier. It's different this time, she can enjoy it completely, to her heart's content. Samantha knows that she's allowed to roll around in the mud as much as she likes, it feels so freeing. 

"There we go, good girls, both of you." The voice on the phone sounds so satisfied that Samantha figures she must be unable to resist now, finding relief in no longer having to be confused. When mistress snaps her fingers so crisply even over the phone, both girls sink into a lovely deep trance in each other's arms. A hypnotic embrace that lasts for as long as they imagine it to. 

A while later, an excited Annie Porter enters the coffee shop and practically skips out with two blissful girls on either arm, ready to be taken back home. The playful blonde is eager to have Sam trained up as quickly as possible so that she can join her and Abby in the master bedroom. Not only does she wish to make that proposed twin sandwich she overheard a reality, she also wants Abigail's best friend to be brought with them when Angel departs for Europe. 

It's going to be a restless few weeks.