Chapter XVII: 

“That’s a good girl! Now all you need to do is just… wake up!”

Britannia moaned as she woke up, exactly like she had been told to do because the control over her mind was absolute which meant that Britannia had no way of resisting it even if she would want to but why would she want to do that when she was a deeply hypnotized and brainwashed bimbo with breasts that would only fit into a bra categorized by a buffer overflow?

She wouldn’t.

And she didn’t.

Standing over her, because Britannia was on her back [ED: put this in the first paragraph? Please remember to remove these editor’s notes before you publish this!], was her bestest friend in the whole world, Bertha. Everyone called her Witch Bertha because she was very gothic and liked to do tarot card readings that sometimes hypnotized people?

For years people had thought that she didn’t exist because she was from CANADA [ED: what part of Canada? Are Canadians named Bertha?], and she was actually Britannia’s GIRLFRIEND!

“Okay, Britbrit, time to wake up!”

Britannia grumbled and rolled over, pulling a pillow over her head. She was naked, and her perfectly respectable DDD cup breasts were splayed out like her legs. “Five more minutes!”

“Nope!

“There’s not much left in this story so we need to get to the part where all of my fiendish actions are described as not actually being fiendish, but two girlfriends having fun because you’re a stressed out super model who wishes she had bigger tits and also more sex? If we don’t do this now, people will feel guilty about enjoying a story with dubious consent!”

“But,” Britannia started, wiggling her ass like a person who wanted to have sex, “is it really dubious at all if I was trying to fix the curse you put on my thotty body the entire time? Is it even consent if it wasn’t informed consent? I’m pretty sure that I didn’t want that somewhere in there.”

Bertha took a moment to consider this, pondering Brittania’s DD breasts like one might grow ponderous over a well rounded orb.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s only noncon if you like, cry a lot. Besides, you had a lot of sex.”

“I also masturbated a lot.” Britannia tittered breastily. “Don’t forget how much I masturbated. I think I came myself through time? You should probably check on how Minette and Remecca are doing.”

“You did not cum yourself through time,” Bertha said. “Also what did you think of the toy poodle?”

Britannia rolled over in bed the other way, her tits flopping floppily as she groaned. Bertha was not going to be like a good little alarm clock and masturbate in the corner while Britannia got a nap so there was no point in trying to sleep. She wanted to stand in front of a mirror and ponder how her body looked, but that sounded like a lot of effort when she could just sit up in bed and idly fondle her perfectly serviceable C cup breasts. They were smaller than she remembered it, but Britannia was used to her mind being swiss cheesed like in that show with the quantum accelerator that never made any sense. How could ziggy be both a comic strip and weird conglomeration [ED: I fixed this for you, but please use spellcheck next time) of jolly ranchers™ with LEDs inside of them? The doctor who liked to say “oh boy” and was definitely a chimp one time never had a raincloud over him, and he time traveled but only ever to one place in a story unless it was a two parter or something was really weird. Britannia had very strong feelings about time travel now, but she was pretty sure that it was a result of Bertha’s Completely Consensual Hypnotic Antics™ that she would have been shown consenting to earlier but it would have spoiled the reveal. A part of her worried that this paragraph would give berth to an unstoppable AI and create a new future timeline, but unlike some marine biologists, she was okay with arms being called tentacles.

Bertha would need to be a better hypnologist to pull that off!

“I liked its owners thighs, and I think her metal ball?”

“Those were different characters.”

“It’s not my fault that your trance was all over the place and I can’t keep track of the continuity. Why did you call me so many different things? Were you making this up as you went along?”

“I sort of tranced myself into a bimbo at one point and couldn’t remember your name.”

“What.”

“I was too busy masturbating so I couldn’t remember your name.”

“How.”

“I was a bimbo.  Bimbos are bestest, sluts are superior, thots don’t need thoughts, you know, all of that. Lady white is a hell of a drug.”

“A drug you made up.”

“Yes.”

“A drug you made up and made me mainline.”

“Yes.”

“Are you starting to get hypnotized because I keep making you agree with me?”

“Yessssss.”

“You’re a pretty bad witch when it comes to cursing, but you’re good at being an obedient little slut for me like we’ve done so many times becuase the real twist is that I’ve been noncosmetically controlling you, huh?” [ED: Use spell check. I’m not even going to bother to correct things you won’t spellcheck first.]

“Yessssssss.”

“Good.”

“Yesssssssssssss.”

“You can stop now.”

“Yessss.”

“Fuck you’re such a bimbo, huh?”

“Yessssss!”

Bertha came because she was such a bimbo and feeling her friend Britney’s powers over her was just too much for her to take.

“I can’t believ eyou couldn’t even remember Felicia’s name. She goes by Alicia sometimes, not Alice, you dumb little slut.” Britney rolled her eyes. “Members only, more like dumb witch sluts only.”

“Ohhh yesssss!” Bertha moaned, rubbing at her pussy. She was naked too because being a bimbo earlier had made her remove her clothing. She was very pale because she was a goth witch. 

Britney rolled her eyes. Her friend’s sexual scenarios could be involved, but they were a bit much sometimes. She looked across the room and saw a vaporwave cup beside an anime figurine of a cat girl who probably had exactly R-cup tits.

“Predictable.”

“Yessssss!” Bertha cummed at her friend’s casual disdain for her sluttliness.

“Hypnologist. I can’t believe you watched that whole She-Ra marathon the other day while masturbating to pictures of Cassandra Peterson…” A Queen poster on the wall explained why part of her hypnosis session randomly referenced the hit 1977 rock classic. 

Bertha was not very creative, but she did bake a really good banana bread so Britney didn’t mind that part very much.

BRittney grabbed up a donut, and chewed on it as she watches Bertha masturbate. She’s relaly good at it, her breasts bouncing to and fro, really working herself into a fine slick lather. It makes Brittney wish that Bertha 

“I can’t believe you tried to make it so wearing pink would turn me on. I always wear pink.” Britney said. “But you can masturbate while I study for Madame Emanuelle’s class because I don’t want to get an F and feel bad about my bra size.”

“Finally.” thot Sandy who was not in this story. “A reference to the original story.”

Someone else would have commented but no one wanted to write any men into this story and potentially harsh the buzz.

Brittney practiced her French verb conjugation before conjugating [ED: I get it but this wasn’t funny when you DMed me with this before and it isn’t now] with Bertha all through the night.

It was loud, and wet, and slippery.

When they were done, Britney didn’t care if she was Brittney or Britnee or Btirany or Britanne or even Bologna.

She just really wanted some fucking banana bread.