Fatty's Hypnosis Experiment

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

I don't remember when Fatty's hypnosis experiment
happened. I only know it wasn't a particularly special day, and nothing special happened. Suddenly, I realized I was just an ordinary person.

Not a hero, not a magician, and certainly not some great demon king. Just a decorative NPC who doesn't even have a quest triggering function, wandering around town all day, only able to say, like a broken phonograph constantly skipping, "Hmm... I think the weather is nice today." Even more

tragically, when I discovered that even this realization was just a feeling that everyone experiences to some extent after leaving adolescence and shedding their personal myth, I could only silently mark my last remaining value with a big red X.

"Elken proposed the concept of personal myth to explain the phenomenon of adolescent egocentrism." The guy, who became a professor at just over thirty, stood in the lecture hall, drawing two white lines on the blackboard: "He believes that adolescent egocentrism has two main characteristics. Does anyone know what they are?"

He raised his hand holding the chalk and walked from one end of the podium to the other.

"Does anyone know?"

Just then, someone nudged my hand, which was propping up my chin. I turned around and saw my chubby high school classmate, hunched over, leaning his bulky body closer.

"Hey, do you know the answer?" he asked.

I looked at him lazily, then impatiently pointed to the textbook on the table.

"Isn't it clearly written there?" I pointed to the words that had just robbed me of my last bit of value.

The chubby guy snatched my textbook away with a swish, then dramatically raised his hand, knocking the entire table askew.

"Oh, very good!" the professor exclaimed in delight. After all, in a general education class of nearly a hundred people, only half the students were present, and only a few were awake. Someone willing to answer the question was practically like winning the lottery.

"There are... there are two characteristics," the chubby guy said nervously. "First, they think there's an imaginary audience watching them; second, they overemphasize their own emotions and uniqueness."

"That's right, this student is right." The professor happily wrote the two keywords, "imaginary audience" and "personal myth," on two white lines, then continued his lecture with great enthusiasm.

To be honest, I loathe this guy. Watching him completely absorbed in his own world makes me want to laugh at him, but the reality of being young and promising forces me to retract my contempt—because in the eyes of the world, I'm just an even bigger failure.

"Thanks," Fatty whispered.

I glanced at him sideways, then took my textbook.

"Why are you suddenly so enthusiastic?" I blurted out my question, since I'd never seen him so serious before.

But Fatty didn't answer, and I didn't care. I just stared out the window—no, I should say I was staring at the girl next to the window. The girl had long, wavy hair that cascaded down her shoulders, making her face appear even smaller. I couldn't make out her features from a distance, but seeing her long legs peeking out from under her sweater clinging to her trousers, I figured I didn't need to focus on her face.

If only I could hold her in my arms, and stroke those long legs with my palms, moving up her calves and then sliding down her thighs—suddenly, I was jolted awake, and my thoughts snapped out of my reverie.

"I'm only telling you this because of our friendship." Looking at Fatty's serious expression, I swallowed the curse that was about to escape my lips. "This professor only came to our school this year. I looked up his resume online out of boredom. Do you know what he does?"

"A psychology professor?"

"He studies hypnosis." Fatty's voice was as low as it could go.

"Oh, so?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I knew this bastard liked this kind of thing, but I didn't expect him to be this obsessed. "You don't actually believe the plots in comics are real, do you?"

"Damn, you don't believe me?!" Fatty asked in surprise.

"Damn, you believe me?" I feigned even greater surprise.

“Fine, don’t believe me if you don’t want to.” Fatty glared at me, then said, “Anyway, I’m going to make a good impression on him and see if he can teach me a few tricks.”

“Even if hypnosis is really that amazing, do you think he’ll just teach you anytime?”

“Do you know that the school has psychology experiments that invite students to participate?”

“I know, some simple tests, some questions, or situational simulations.”

“This professor is also inviting participants, and there’s a limit to the number.”

“You signed up for this experiment?” I was genuinely surprised this time; I didn’t expect him to be so proactive.

“Of course! It’s tonight. I plan to ask him for advice, and don’t forget I applied to transfer to another major last year—psychology. I plan to make a good impression on him and then apply to do research for him.”

I think only utter astonishment could describe my reaction at that moment. I had to admire this person who couldn’t even stick to exercising for two days, yet he was going to such lengths for an unrealistic fantasy.

“What if it’s not as amazing as you imagine?” I asked.

“It’s okay, at least I’ve bet my life on my dream,” he said, uttering a cool line he’d picked up from who-knows-where.

I guess all I can do is wish him well.

The bell rang, and I packed up my textbooks, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed for the classroom door. When I got there, I realized Fatty wasn't following. I looked back at my seat and saw he'd thrown all his things down and run up to the lecture hall. The professor seemed very happy; the two of them were talking, and the professor's expression grew increasingly serious.

I wanted to get closer to hear what they were saying when a figure suddenly flashed past me. I quickly stopped to avoid bumping into a student about to leave the classroom.

"Sorry," I apologized hastily. Only then did I realize that I had almost bumped into the girl with the long, wavy hair. She stared at me coldly, saying nothing.

Her features were delicate, and her eyes were bright and assertive.

"Please don't block the doorway," she said, then walked out without looking back.

I stared blankly at her retreating figure until Fatty patted my shoulder.

"Hey, why have you been spacing out all day?"

"Nothing," I said. "What did you talk to the professor about?"

"Oh, I just asked him about the experiment tonight, and also sounded out his intentions," Fatty said. "The professor said it's a very serious matter, but seeing how enthusiastic I am, he decided to let me help him with the experiment tonight. If I perform well, he's considering taking me on as a student."

"You're too hasty," I analyzed objectively. "If he knew your intentions, he'd better hand the weapon to the criminal."

"You're overthinking it. I'm just a good student obsessed with learning right now," Fatty said smugly.

"Okay, I'll go back to the dorm first. Can you bring me some food tonight?"

"No problem," he said.

I went back to the dorm, took a shower, and recalled my past experiences learning hypnosis—a period I hadn't told Fatty about.

Back then, the instructor had us work in groups of three. One person would lie in a chair, close their eyes, and pretend to be hypnotized. Then the person in the chair would imagine an experience they had, like jogging or swimming, and then the other two would describe it.

Most of the participants at the time were like me, with unrealistic expectations of hypnosis.

We'd say things like, "Imagine you're playing the piano, and gradually become one with the music," or "Look up at the clouds in the sky; they're so white and blue, it's like they're sucking you in." Nothing happened. When I sat down, I thought the other two were complete idiots.

It wasn't until later that the instructor told us that sentences involving inner feelings or lacking visual imagery would have the opposite effect; induction requires both visual imagery and sensory experiences.

The instructor then gave an example: people in elevators often seem hypnotized, staring at the changing floors until the elevator arrives, then suddenly waking up. They really are like people who have just woken up; there's a brief moment when they can't grasp what's happening, which is why we easily go to the wrong floor or get startled by people just entering the elevator.

I spent a long time practicing how to put people into that hypnotic state. But much later I realized that hypnosis is just another form of communication. Although the person you're communicating with seems completely at your mercy, this is just an illusion. Hypnotizing someone to stand up and dance is no easier than directly asking them to dance—in fact, if you know them well, hypnosis is a much more tiring idea.

After showering, drying myself, and blow-drying my hair, I went to the forum to search for all articles related to "hypnosis." Although I clearly knew the gap between fantasy and reality, the allure of fantasy was still strong. I read the forum articles while waiting for dinner,

and then I waited until 11:30, my stomach rumbling.

Finally, Fatty pushed open the door and walked in, looking exhausted.

"Any findings?" I asked.

Fatty looked at me with an awkward expression. He walked to the desk, pulled out a chair, sat down, and buried his face in the table, saying, "You're right..."

"Huh? What did you say?" I didn't hear the rest.

"You're right, hypnosis isn't that magical." Fatty's voice was muffled in his arms, and something felt off. "I'm a little tired, I want to go to sleep first."

He said, getting up from the chair he had just pulled out and struggling to climb onto the bunk bed.

"Hey, aren't you going to shower?" I called out from above.

"I'm tired, I'll talk about it tomorrow." Fatty seemed to have curled up under the covers.

I could imagine Fatty's disappointment, but something still felt off. If he was really upset, shouldn't he have poured his heart out to me? Or was he too upset to even think about it?

"Okay, I'm going to sleep too, I'm starving." I said, closing the laptop, turning off the lamp, and jumping onto the other side of the bed. "Fatty, if you're really upset, we can talk."

"It's okay, it's okay." Fatty said. "Don't mind me."

I had originally planned to share my past experiences with him, but his immediate refusal made me feel even more uneasy.

"Actually, even I can't let go of this fantasy." I thought to myself, which is why I couldn't help but doubt Fatty now.

I turned over, deciding to put these thoughts aside.

After a while, I heard a slight commotion in the darkness. I looked up, puzzled, and saw Fatty sitting at his desk, a large pack of toilet paper next to his computer, several sheets already pulled out and scattered on the table.

I squinted at the screen and saw a half-naked girl standing in a white room, one hand on her private parts, making obscene noises. The girl had beautiful, long, wavy hair!

"Ah…! Haa! Guh… Ahh!" The girl's lower body trembled, and I could see her fingers moving through the thin fabric of her panties. Clear fluid was leaking from the corner of her panties, which had been pulled back.

At first, I thought Fatty was just unable to cope with reality and decided to masturbate to release his pent-up frustration. But then a familiar figure appeared behind the girl, and I realized something was wrong.

The young professor placed his hand on the girl's breasts from behind. Her small but perfectly shaped breasts had two pink nipples, and the girl's expression of pleasure was truly pleasing to the eye.

The professor lowered his head and suckled her nipple. The girl's expression became even more dazed, murmuring, "Ah! So good! Mmm... Ahh!"

The professor pushed the girl's hands away and used his own to penetrate her panties. Her juices flowed even more profusely. The professor stroked her genitals, slowly rubbing them, and the girl's breathing grew louder.

"Ah... Give it to me, ah! Ah... Ahhhhhh...!"

The professor suddenly inserted his fingers into her vagina and stirred them rapidly. The girl actually reached orgasm.

At this moment, the camera suddenly shook violently a few times, as if it had been moved to another location and repositioned. Then another figure appeared from behind the camera—I gasped. It was Fatty. At the same time, Fatty in front of the computer also started moving. He grabbed a handful of toilet paper and began to masturbate.

The girl on the screen was laid down on the ground. The professor, with Fatty's obviously stiff body, walked to the girl's side. The two squatted down, and Fatty whispered something in the girl's ear. Then the girl seemed to suddenly come to her senses and got up.

The girl deftly pulled down her underwear and then coiled around the fat guy like a snake. His legs went weak, and the two of them tumbled backward out of the frame. Then all that could be heard were seductive moans and the fat guy's unpleasant groans.

The fat guy in front of the screen also groaned, but frankly, it was incredibly short-lived.

The fat guy let out a long sigh, threw the wad of toilet paper into the trash can, and then turned off the computer screen. I heard his footsteps approaching, so I quickly rolled over, pretending to be fast asleep.

Then the whole bed started shaking, and the fat guy slowly climbed on top of me. Judging from his breathing, he was looking me up and down. After a while, he seemed to believe I was really asleep, and then he climbed off the bed.

"Idiot, even if I was really asleep, you woke me up now," I thought.

I looked at my phone, waiting for time to pass. Doing nothing but waiting was incredibly agonizing. Finally, after more than an hour, the fat guy started snoring, and I quietly got out of bed and turned on his computer.

I found the video in the playback program's history and uploaded it to the cloud drive. The whole process took less than ten minutes. I quickly went back to bed, grabbed my phone to download the video, then hid under the covers, put on my headphones, and started watching to see what was going on.

The video started with an empty room, followed by the sound of a door opening.

The professor led the female student into the room and began explaining the experiment to her. It was basically to test how students would react to music when they were in rooms of different colors. The student holding the camera (the chubby guy) was recording the experiment.

The female student nodded and turned to face the wall as instructed. After giving the chubby guy a few instructions, the professor turned to leave, then suddenly tapped the female student on the shoulder when she wasn't looking.

"Huh?" The female student turned around, her face full of confusion.

At that moment, the professor inexplicably reached out his hand, as if to shake hers. The female student instinctively reached out in response. Suddenly, the professor's left hand gripped her wrist, and he said in a deep voice, "Let your arm slowly hang down, and at the same time, let yourself fall into a state of reverie."

Seeing this, I exclaimed, "Master."

The professor used the human habit of shaking hands to get the girl to raise her hand spontaneously, but then interrupted the handshake midway, causing her to become even more confused and bewildered. This technique is called pattern blocking. The most difficult part is timing the moment the girl is stunned and giving her a verbal prompt; otherwise, she might quickly recover and react.

But looking at the girl's blank eyes, I was even more confused. What's next?

"Come here and help me support her," the professor said to the camera.

The camera shook, and then the chubby guy appeared from behind. He walked behind the girl and awkwardly grabbed her shoulder.

"Now let's begin the real experiment," the professor said, his voice barely concealing his excitement.

He left the room and returned shortly after, pushing a cart with two helmets on it.

The professor placed one helmet on the girl's head and put the other on himself.

"I just explained to you what to do if the machine works smoothly. Now I'm telling you, if it fails, you can just leave us behind. I can't be a burden to you," the professor said. The chubby guy seemed frightened.

“Master, I won’t abandon you. I’m willing to do anything!”

The professor smiled and said, “At first, I was worried about how to start this experiment, but I didn’t expect to meet you. I guess it’s my luck. Not everyone dares to do this kind of thing. Even if it fails, I’ll still be gratified. You can continue your research with my results.”

After hearing this, Fatty didn’t say anything more. I think Fatty was actually just worried that if something went wrong, his dream would be shattered.

Then the professor turned on the machine. His body began to spasm irregularly the moment he pressed the button, as did the girl’s. After a while, the strange spasms slowly stopped.

“What happened?” the girl asked slowly, her eyes glistening with tears, looking pitiful.

“Professor?” Fatty asked tentatively.

“Professor? Who are you talking about?” the girl asked blankly.

Fatty seemed to realize that the experiment had failed and was so frightened that he let go and threw the girl down. The girl’s head hit the cart hard and then fell to the ground.

“Ah! It hurts!” the girl cried out.

Then she saw the professor lying on the ground.

"Oh right, I'm doing an experiment!" The girl instantly snapped back to reality, then turned and grabbed the fat guy who was about to run away. "Fatty, my experiment was a success! I succeeded! The mind implantation experiment was a success!"

"What!" the fat guy exclaimed excitedly, squatting down and shaking the girl's shoulders violently.

"Ouch..." The girl winced in pain, and the fat guy calmed down a bit, realizing that he was facing the body of a mature woman.

"Let's continue the experiment!" The professor inside the girl's body seemed to have truly transformed into a young girl; she jumped up, grabbed the fat guy's hand, and spun around. "Quickly help me put my body and the machine aside, and remember to check if the camera is pointed."

"No problem!"

After everything was settled, the fat guy walked towards the camera, and then the lens moved to the center of the room, pointing at the girl.

"Now I'm going to start preparing for self-suggestion and control." The girl said to the camera. "What I have in my hand now is a special potion that can lower my willpower and greatly increase my libido."

As she spoke, she inserted the needle into her arm. Her already somewhat assertive face, with her brows furrowed, seemed to show a mixture of anger and resentment mixed with a shy charm.

"Ugh...it's so itchy..." Just a few minutes after the injection, the girl shivered, then began rubbing her breasts and genitals through her clothes. "I didn't expect...the drug...to be so strong! Ah! Quick...bring me my body, haaaah!"

she said, squatting down, her whole body trembling.

"It hurts so much...hurry! Ahhh!"

The camera started to shake, then dropped, focusing on the professor's limp legs. The camera then panned, revealing the girl's long, wavy hair now disheveled. She struggled to remove her sweater, frantically tearing off her bra, revealing her two full, round breasts with erect nipples.

The girl pounced on the lifeless male body, grabbing his hand and inserting it into her genitals, beginning to rhythmically twist her body—she was actually masturbating with her own hand!

She used her entire arm like a stick, rubbing it back and forth between her breasts and crotch. I was deeply attracted by her obsessive attitude, and couldn't help but swallow. At the same time, I heard swallowing sounds coming from the screen.

"I love this taste, haha... Give it to me, anything is fine! Mmm! I want it so much..."

The girl said, releasing the man's hand and starting to unbuckle her belt—she knelt on the ground, her buttocks raised, her upper body pressed tightly against the man's genitals, her fair back forming a sexy line.

Watching her lewd posture, my underwear tightened, but I knew I had to remain rational and see how things would develop.

On the screen, the girl, whose consciousness had been possessed by the professor, propped herself up, her vulva rotating against the penis. She reached out and played with her vulva, stirring a finger inside, making herself moan repeatedly.

"Mmm! I love the teacher's cock the most, come and fuck me!"

After she finished speaking, she squatted down on the man's body, and the unconscious but hard cock went straight in.

"Ahhhhhh!" The girl let out a high-pitched moan.

"A man's cock, hah...it feels so good!"

After the cock went in, the girl twisted her buttocks even more wildly, her hands on the ground, swinging wildly, the image of the fierce cock going in and out under her white buttocks, constantly making lewd sounds.

"Ah...ah! So good...my pussy feels so good being fucked!"

The girl began to rotate her buttocks rhythmically, as if she wanted to squeeze out the last bit of energy from the man.

"Ugh! Mmm...ah...ah! My pussy is going to be ruined, the teacher has to take responsibility, mmm...ah!"

She shook faster and faster, her whole body was covered in fragrant sweat, and a liquid that was hard to tell was either vaginal fluid or sweat kept splashing in all directions, and the girl moaned loudly. "Ugh... Ahh... Ahhhhhhh!"

Finally, she collapsed onto the man's body, utterly exhausted, her petite frame panting heavily.

"Bring the camera over," she said breathlessly.

I imagine the fat man had been enduring a lot.

"Now this body has completely memorized the pleasure of sex. Next, as long as we keep connecting her to the pleasure of sex, I can make her unable to resist sexual suggestions during hypnosis." The girl's face was flushed, her original domineering aura replaced by the delicate beauty of a young woman from the afterglow of sex. "Then we can

fabricate her memories and behaviors to continuously deepen the suggestions." She spoke to the camera about the plan, but the more I listened, the more uneasy I felt.

Then they left the room and went to another room. The girl sat in a chair, and a tape recorder next to her played the professor's voice.

“You’re feeling more and more relaxed now.”

“I want you to listen carefully… attentively… with all your heart to my voice.”

“You’re already very relaxed, completely relaxed… Now your mind is blank.”

Listening to the professor’s voice, I knew that such inducement was actually useless, but the girl in the chair, or rather, the girl controlled by the professor’s consciousness, began to slowly fall asleep.

"Your eyelids are heavy, so heavy, unbearably heavy... You want to rest, but you can't." The professor's pre-recorded voice continued, while the girl in the chair showed a pained expression.

At that moment, it dawned on me—this was acting! She was pretending to be hypnotized, then using this video for reverse hypnosis, to make the girl believe things she didn't believe before.

And judging from the previous stages, the professor seemed capable of directly using self-suggestion or coercive control to make the girl's body and mind accept content originating from her own consciousness.

Rather than hypnosis, it was more like the professor using her own consciousness as a virus to invade the girl's mind, implanting a false consciousness—even so, if the false consciousness were too real, it might even affect the professor's own mind, hence the need for this indirect and repeated method.

"I am your master; only my command can grant you rest."

"Ugh..." the girl groaned in pain. “I want…please let me rest.”

“You must acknowledge me as your master, otherwise you cannot rest.”

“Please, I’ll do anything you say…I’m so tired, I want to rest…”

“Then repeat after me, say I am the master’s slave.”

“I am…the master’s slave…” the girl repeated blankly.

I couldn’t help but marvel at the professor’s acting skills; if I had seen it, I think I would have believed it too.

Then the video continued, like a typical hypnotic novel, the girl succumbing to the power of hypnosis, and then the image disappeared. Then the image brightened again, showing the naked girl kneeling in front of the professor.

“Don’t worry, it will be your turn to enjoy it later,” the professor said to the girl.

The girl’s face returned to its former domineering expression, and she reluctantly unzipped the professor’s pants.

“Very good, next we will familiarize her with the techniques of serving men, and the feeling of submission.”

It turned out that at this moment, the girl’s body had become Fatty.

The girl swallowed and spat out the man’s penis, her movements stiff and clearly showing disgust. Suddenly, the professor reached out and pushed the girl to the ground, pinning her down from behind.

"Master, what do you want to do!" the fat man inside the girl cried out, but when it came out of the girl's voice, it only sounded like a moan that aroused even more lust.

"Women should obey men!" the professor cursed viciously, as if he had become a different person. He grabbed the girl's chin with one hand, turned her face, and forcefully kissed her lips.

"Ugh... Stop!" the girl struggled.

"Hehe, you'll be begging me in a minute!" the professor grabbed her breasts and rubbed them vigorously, while skillfully teasing her nipples.

"Mmm..."

the girl couldn't help but let out a soft moan of pleasure, perhaps the previous hints had taken effect, or perhaps the professor had used an aphrodisiac.

"Didn't you say no? Look at you now, weren't you enjoying it just now?"

"No, how could I enjoy it, I was, ah! Ugh..."

Seemingly not wanting the fat man to have any thoughts of disrupting his consciousness, the professor sealed her lips again, his other hand already deep inside the girl's crotch, teasing her. The will to resist seemed to have been replaced by pleasure, and from the girl's moans, it was clear that she could no longer think clearly.

“You were born a woman, women are meant to be played with by men!”

The professor said, teasing the girl’s vulva. The pleasure combined with the shock of the sudden attack, the past hints, and the drugs had completely enslaved the girl to her desires.

“Look at yourself, you just want to be raped by me, you want to be my slave!”

“What…you said…ah!”

Seeing that she still had the will to resist, the professor immediately increased the speed of his fingers, and the girl’s momentary rationality was immediately replaced by another wave of orgasm.

“You’re just a slut who wants to be fucked by men, just accept your fate, as long as you admit it, you can get even more pleasure!”

“No, stop…stop…uhhh! Huh?”

The professor suddenly pulled his hand away, and the girl felt a sense of emptiness, looking blankly at the man who was humiliating her.

Another mode interruption! The professor roared.

“You’re feeling good, aren’t you? That pleasure is about to engulf you!” he said, and the girl rolled her eyes back. “But you’re almost there! You can’t get pleasure without permission!”

“Permission? No, I want… mmm… give it to me!”

“I want to give you pleasure, but someone is stopping me!”

“Who is it? Stop… give it to me, I want it so badly… tell him to stop!”

I was amazed by the professor’s maneuvering. He transformed the initial resistance into a resistance to resistance itself, and the girl, caught between confusion and the brink of orgasm, couldn’t detect this logical trap.

“That’s right, as long as he stops, you can have an orgasm. You just need to say that keyword!”

“I’ll say it! I’ll do anything you want! Tell me what to say!” The girl groveled before the professor, begging humbly.

“Say you are my slave, that you were born to be a slut for men!”

“I am your slave… I was born to be a man!”

“Are you a slutty woman who was born only to be a slave to men, utterly useless?” the professor continued to press.

“Yes, whatever you say is right… Give it to me now, please, just fuck this slutty slave to death with your cock!” the girl shouted lewdly, clinging to the man’s waist and licking his cock like a puppy.

The professor pushed her away forcefully and roared, “A slutty woman like you can only kneel on the ground and wait for a man to fuck you!”

Hearing this, the girl immediately knelt on the ground, her wet, juicy vulva facing the camera.

The professor walked forward with satisfaction, grabbing the girl’s buttocks firmly with both hands, leaving red claw marks on her snow-white buttocks, and then he thrust into her vulva.

Pain accompanied by boundless pleasure, the girl screamed and reached orgasm.

“You will never forget this pleasure for the rest of your life.” The professor continued to give her hints, while thrusting repeatedly to bring the girl to even greater orgasms.

"Ugh... Ahh... Ughhh! Ahhh! Yaaaaaah!"

Then the scene suddenly disappeared, followed by another scene, still the professor having sex with a girl's vagina, but I instinctively knew this was a different place—even a different time!

I broke out in a cold sweat, pulled back the covers, and was about to get up to confront Fatty.

Fatty's snoring had stopped sometime earlier.

I looked at the edge of the bed; Fatty's large face was facing me, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"This experiment isn't on its first day, is it?" I retorted.

"Of course not, the experiment has been going on for three months."

"Then why did you lie to me that tonight was the first experiment?"

Fatty looked at me, puzzled, without speaking. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, and I couldn't help but look in the direction of the sound—and then there was darkness.

When I woke up, I found myself covered with a black cloth, my hands cuffed behind my back to a chair.

"Master, his condition seems strange, so I brought him here," Fatty said in a disgusting tone.

“You did a good job, I’ll reward you later,” the professor’s voice said.

“Thank you, Master,” the fat man said in that disgusting tone.

A hand lifted the black cloth, and I found myself in the room in the video, the fat man holding a camera pointed at me.

“What do you want to do!” I shouted, trying to calm my fear.

“Hmm…maybe I was stimulated by something.” The professor ignored me, as if I were lifeless, just a doll.

“Alright, let’s do it again,” the professor said, then walked towards me, and a sharp pain shot through my right arm.

“What did you do to me! I’m a man!” The thought of what he might have hit me gave me goosebumps.

“Hmph, a man? What are you talking about?” the professor said with a laugh.

I swayed in panic, only to find my long brown hair hanging down my side and my two bouncing breasts.

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen,” he said, then reached out his hand to me.

When I woke up, I felt languid and didn’t want to move.

My whole body was hot and sweaty, and my head was very dizzy; I couldn’t understand anything.

“Tell me how you feel right now,” a distant voice asked me.

“I feel so tired, so relaxed.”

“And what else?”

What else? I tried to think, but only felt more and more tired. Whatever he said didn't matter.

“I don’t know…you decide…I’m so tired…”

I heard laughter, and at the same time, my breasts felt itchy and swollen.

“You want to obey, you want to obey my voice and pleasure,”

the voice said, and then a hand began to caress my breasts. It felt so good…so comfortable.

I heard soft music. I wanted to obey this voice, to obey his thoughts. I wanted happiness, I wanted him to continue caressing me, but something seemed to be missing…

“That’s right, obedience will make you happy…very happy.”

“Mmm…I…I’m so happy…ahh…”

I felt someone caressing my lower body as well, it felt so good, so tingly…I like this, I want more pleasure, more obedience, but something is still missing.

“Ah! It’s so itchy…so comfortable…mmm! Give it to me!”

“No, you’re not obedient enough, so I can’t give it to you.”

I wasn’t obedient enough…but I’ve been so obedient, I’ve done everything Master said…Master? "That's right, I must obey my master. I belong to my master, and only by obeying my master can I gain pleasure.

" "Master, please...give it to me quickly, quickly...ahhhhhh!"

Suddenly, I felt my master's penis thrust into my soaking wet vagina. He rubbed my large breasts as he penetrated. I belong to my master, only my master can give me pleasure!

"Ugh...Master, fuck me quickly...I belong to my master, ahhh! Ughhhhhh!"

"Remember this feeling, never forget it for the rest of your life," my master said.

My mind went blank, my body actively responding to my master. I floated higher and higher, my consciousness becoming increasingly blurred. I heard someone scream; it was the pleasure that could only be obtained after complete obedience.

Then I fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, I found myself lying in my master's arms.

"You're awake?"

"Master~" I buried my face in my master's chest shyly.

"I've discovered that even through consciousness input, hypnosis still has its limits; external consciousness is still external consciousness," my master suddenly began to talk about strange topics. “Only with willing cooperation from the beginning, coupled with the conscious individual’s active reinforcement, can complete hypnosis be achieved, like you.”

The master said, kissing my cheek. I felt as if my whole body was melting.

“You need to enter a girl’s body, play the role of a hypnotized and humiliated woman, and then finally become completely integrated with the body to reach this level. Perhaps it’s because consciousness detached from the body becomes more fragile.” The master said, one hand starting to play with my vulva. A wanton girl like me would have her juices flowing out as soon as the master’s fingers touched me.

“Orgasm.” The master suddenly said.

Before I even realized what was happening, pleasure spread from where the master’s fingers were and rushed straight to my brain. My eyes rolled back, and tears, urine, and vaginal fluid mixed together and flowed out like a burst dam. Wave after wave of pleasure came, and I could only keep letting out wanton moans.

“Stop.” The master said.

The pleasure suddenly subsided, but the feeling remained in my body. I knew that only the master could give me this kind of pleasure, and being able to obey the master was an immense stroke of luck.

“But sometimes, to avoid being discovered, we have to let your bodies return to their original state, which leads to the situation we discussed earlier,” the master said regretfully. “It means I have to go through all that trouble to train you again.”

“Master, I’m sorry, this little slave won’t do it again.” Although I didn’t understand what the master was talking about, I knew it might be related to me.

“It’s not your fault, I’ve already thought of a solution,” the master said. “Now, go to sleep.”

I opened my eyes, looked at the black screen of my phone, and pulled back the covers. Fatty was still snoring on the other end… It turned out that what I was doing was just my imagination. I let out a long sigh and put the phone aside.

A weekend later, it was that damn professor’s psychology class again. I saw the girl with the long, wavy hair from the video, sitting alone in the corner by the window.

Although I didn’t understand how the professor and Fatty did it, since the basis was hypnosis, I figured I could achieve the same effect with regular hypnosis.

“Hi, may I sit here?”

She gave me a cold look and didn’t say anything. She probably thought I was just trying to strike up a conversation.

I quickly reached out and patted her left shoulder. She stared at me in surprise. Before she could react, I covered her face with my right hand and pulled her back, whispering in her ear, "Now relax completely and listen to my voice."

"Yes... Master," she said blankly.

I was overjoyed. Even though I had only used a light hypnosis to bring out the professor's hard work, I couldn't help but feel very proud.

"You are not allowed to make any sound without my command," I said. "Then I will count to three, and you will experience the most intense climax of your life."

"One, two, three, climax!"

Her eyes widened, her tongue slightly protruding as she let out a silent moan. Tears of climax slid down her cheeks, and then she slowly curled up, trembling uncontrollably. I knew that in that instant, she could feel a thunderous shock, an incredible climax that made her bite her lower lip tightly to obey my commands for the rest of the time.

"Alright, now tell me who brought you to climax."

"My master," she said obediently.

"Who is your master?" I asked.

“Professor OO,” she said. I frowned, then realized that if I changed the instruction to mine, it would definitely give me away, so I decided to keep the instruction.

“Now lie down on my lap,” I said. By then, the professor had already started lecturing, and the students were scattered throughout the classroom, most of them asleep. I adjusted the angle, using the table and my coat to conceal her head, so that no one would notice her resting on my lap.

“Take good care of my penis,” I whispered.

Then her soft hand took out my penis and began to slowly stroke it. When it was hard enough, her warm, wet tongue pressed against the tip of my penis and began to circle it. I had to try very hard not to make a sound. Her

warm lips took my penis in her mouth, sucking it tightly while teasing it inside with her tongue.

I felt a sense of conquest, enjoying the service of a beautiful woman—I thought of the novels that mentioned how using a woman's body was the most pleasurable thing. Maybe I could steal that machine someday and try it out.

As I pondered, I felt sleepy, so I slowly leaned over the table, enjoying the beautiful woman's oral sex. Gradually, I drifted off to sleep. In my dream, I vaguely saw myself as that girl, lying in my master's arms, experiencing the pleasure of a woman's orgasm—a pleasure only attainable through obedience.

I was so happy, so eager to obey.

I don't remember when it happened, only that it wasn't a particularly special day, and nothing special occurred. Suddenly, I realized that I was just an ordinary person.

Not a hero, not a magician, and certainly not some great demon king. Just a decorative NPC who didn't even have a quest triggering function, wandering around town all day, only able to repeat like a broken phonograph, constantly saying, "Hmm... I think the weather is nice today."

Even more tragically, when I discovered that even this realization was just a feeling that everyone experiences to some extent after leaving adolescence and shedding their personal mythology, I could only silently mark my last remaining value with a big red X.

"Elkien proposed the concept of the personal myth to explain the phenomenon of adolescent egocentrism." The guy, who became a professor at just over thirty, stood in the lecture hall, drawing two white lines on the blackboard: "He believes that adolescent egocentrism has two main characteristics. Does anyone know what they are?"

He raised his hand holding the chalk and walked from one end of the podium to the other.

"Does anyone know?"

Just then, someone nudged my hand, which was propping up my cheek. I turned around and saw my chubby high school classmate, his head hunched, leaning closer.

"Hey, do you know the answer?" he asked.

I looked at him lazily, then impatiently pointed to the textbook on the table.

"Isn't it clearly written there?" I pointed to the words that had just robbed me of my last bit of value.

The chubby guy snatched my textbook away with a whoosh, then dramatically raised his hand, knocking the entire table askew.

"Oh, very good!" the professor exclaimed in surprise. After all, in a general education class of nearly a hundred people, only half the students were present, and only a few were awake. Someone willing to answer the question was practically winning the lottery.

“Yes, there are two characteristics,” the chubby guy said nervously. “First, he thinks there are imaginary audiences watching him; second, he overemphasizes his own emotions and uniqueness.”

“That’s right, this student is right,” the professor said happily, writing the keywords “imaginary audience” and “personal myth” on two white lines before continuing his lecture with great enthusiasm.

To be honest, I loathed this guy. Watching him completely immersed in his own world made me want to laugh at him, but the reality of his youth and potential forced me to retract my contempt—because in the eyes of the world, I was just an even bigger failure.

“Thanks,” the chubby guy said softly.

I glanced at him sideways and then took my textbook.

“Why are you suddenly so enthusiastic?” I blurted out my question, having never seen him so serious before.

But the chubby guy didn’t answer, and I didn’t care. I just stared out the window—no, I should say I was staring at the female student next to the window. The girl had long, wavy hair that cascaded down her shoulders, making her face appear even smaller. From a distance, her features were indistinct, but her long legs, visible beneath the hem of her sweater clinging to her trousers, made it clear that her face wasn't the most important thing.

If only I could hold her in my arms, caressing those legs with my palms, tracing them up her calves and then sliding them between her thighs—suddenly, I was jolted awake, my thoughts snapping out of my reverie.

"I'm only telling you this because of our friendship," I said, swallowing the curse that was about to escape my lips, looking at the fat guy's serious expression. "This professor only came to our school this year. I looked up his resume online out of boredom. Do you know what he does?"

"A psychology professor?"

"He studies hypnosis." The fat guy's voice was barely audible.

"Oh, so?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I knew this bastard liked that kind of thing, but I hadn't expected him to be this obsessed. "You don't actually believe the plot in the comics is real, do you?"

"Damn, you don't believe me?!" Fatty asked in surprise.

"Damn, you believe me?" I feigned even greater surprise.

"Fine, don't believe me then." Fatty glared at me, then said, "Anyway, I want to make a good impression on him and see if he can teach me a few tricks."

"Even if hypnosis is really that amazing, do you think he'll just teach you anytime?"

"Do you know that schools have psychology experiments that invite students to participate?"

"I know, it involves some simple tests, questions, or situational simulations."

"This professor is also inviting participants, and there's a limit to the number."

"You signed up for this experiment?" I was genuinely surprised this time; I hadn't expected him to be so proactive.

"Of course! It's tonight. I plan to ask him for advice. And don't forget I applied to transfer departments last year—psychology. I'm planning to make a good impression on him and then apply to do research for him."

I think only utter astonishment could describe my reaction. I had to admire this person who couldn't even stick to an exercise regimen for two days, yet he was going to such lengths for an unrealistic fantasy.

"What if it's not as amazing as you imagine?" I asked.

"It's okay, at least I've risked my life for my dream," he said, uttering a cool line he'd picked up from who-knows-where.

I guess all I could do was wish him well.

The bell rang, and I packed up my textbooks, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed for the classroom door. When I got there, I realized Fatty wasn't following. I looked back at my seat and saw he'd thrown everything down and gone up to the lecture hall. The professor seemed happy; the two of them were talking, and the professor's expression grew increasingly serious.

I wanted to get closer to hear what they were saying when a figure suddenly flashed past me. I quickly stopped to avoid bumping into a classmate leaving the classroom.

"Excuse me," I quickly apologized. Only then did I realize that I had almost bumped into the girl with the long, wavy hair. She stared at me coldly, saying nothing.

Her features were delicate, and her eyes were bright and assertive.

"Please don't block the doorway," she said, then walked out without looking back.

I stared blankly at her retreating figure until Fatty patted my shoulder.

"Hey, why have you been spacing out all day?"

"Nothing," I said. "What did you talk to the professor about?"

“Oh, I just asked him about the experiment tonight, and casually sounded out his intentions,” Fatty said. “The professor said it’s a very serious matter, but seeing how enthusiastic I am, he decided to let me help him with the experiment tonight. If I perform well, he’ll consider taking me on as a student.”

“You’re too hasty,” I analyzed objectively. “If he knew your intentions, he’d better hand the weapon to the criminal.”

“You’re overthinking it. I’m just a good student obsessed with learning right now,” Fatty said smugly.

“Okay, I’ll go back to my dorm first. Can you bring me some food tonight?”

“No problem,” he said.

I went back to my dorm, took a shower, and recalled my past experiences learning hypnosis—a period I hadn’t told Fatty about.

Back then, the instructor had us work in groups of three. One person would lie in a chair, close their eyes, and pretend to be hypnotized. Then the person in the chair would imagine an experience they had had, like jogging or swimming, and then the other two would describe it.

Most of the participants at the time were like me, with unrealistic expectations of hypnosis.

We'd say things like, "Imagine you're playing the piano, and gradually become one with the music," or "Look up at the clouds in the sky; they're so white and blue, it's like they're sucking you in." Nothing happened. When I sat down, I thought the other two were complete idiots.

It wasn't until later that the instructor told us that sentences involving inner feelings or lacking imagery would only have the opposite effect; induction requires imagery and sensory experiences.

The instructor then gave an example: when people are in an elevator, they often seem hypnotized, staring at the changing floors until the elevator arrives, only to suddenly wake up. They really are like someone who's just woken up; there's a brief moment when they can't grasp what's happening, which is why we easily go to the wrong floor or get startled by someone just entering the elevator.

I spent a long time practicing how to put people into this hypnotic state. But much later I realized that hypnosis is just another form of communication. Although the person you're communicating with seems completely at your mercy, this is just an illusion. Hypnotizing someone to stand up and dance is no easier than directly asking them to dance—in fact, if you know them well, hypnosis is a much more tiring idea.

After showering, drying myself, and blow-drying my hair, I went to the forum to search for all articles related to "hypnosis." Although I clearly knew the gap between fantasy and reality, the allure of fantasy was still strong. I read the forum articles while waiting for dinner,

and then I waited until 11:30, my stomach rumbling.

Finally, Fatty pushed open the door and walked in, looking exhausted.

"Any findings?" I asked.

Fatty looked at me with an awkward expression. He walked to the desk, pulled out a chair, sat down, and buried his face in the table, saying, "You're right..."

"Huh? What did you say?" I didn't hear the rest.

"You're right, hypnosis isn't that magical." Fatty's voice was muffled in his arms, and something felt off. "I'm a little tired, I want to go to sleep first."

He said, getting up from the chair he had just pulled out and struggling to climb onto the bunk bed.

"Hey, aren't you going to shower?" I called out from above.

"I'm tired, I'll talk about it tomorrow." Fatty seemed to have curled up under the covers.

I could imagine Fatty's disappointment, but something still felt off. If he was really upset, shouldn't he have poured his heart out to me? Or was he too upset to even think about it?

"Okay, I'm going to sleep too, I'm starving." I said, closing the laptop, turning off the lamp, and jumping onto the other side of the bed. "Fatty, if you're really upset, we can talk."

"It's okay, it's okay." Fatty said. "Don't mind me."

I had originally planned to share my past experiences with him, but his immediate refusal made me feel even more uneasy.

"Actually, even I can't let go of this fantasy." I thought to myself, which is why I couldn't help but doubt Fatty now.

I turned over, deciding to put these thoughts aside.

After a while, I heard a slight commotion in the darkness. I looked up, puzzled, and saw Fatty sitting at his desk, a large pack of toilet paper next to his computer, several sheets already pulled out and scattered on the table.

I squinted at the screen and saw a half-naked girl standing in a white room, one hand on her private parts, making obscene noises. The girl had beautiful, long, wavy hair!

"Ah…! Haa! Guh… Ahh!" The girl's lower body trembled, and I could see her fingers moving through the thin fabric of her panties. Clear fluid was leaking from the corner of her panties, which had been pulled back.

At first, I thought Fatty was just unable to cope with reality and decided to masturbate to release his pent-up frustration. But then a familiar figure appeared behind the girl, and I realized something was wrong.

The young professor placed his hand on the girl's breasts from behind. Her small but perfectly shaped breasts had two pink nipples, and the girl's expression of pleasure was truly pleasing to the eye.

The professor lowered his head and suckled her nipple. The girl's expression became even more dazed, murmuring, "Ah! So good! Mmm... Ahh!"

The professor pushed the girl's hands away and used his own to penetrate her panties. Her juices flowed even more profusely. The professor stroked her genitals, slowly rubbing them, and the girl's breathing grew louder.

"Ah... Give it to me, ah! Ah... Ahhhhhh...!"

The professor suddenly inserted his fingers into her vagina and stirred them rapidly. The girl actually reached orgasm.

At this moment, the camera suddenly shook violently a few times, as if it had been moved to another location and repositioned. Then another figure appeared from behind the camera—I gasped. It was Fatty. At the same time, Fatty in front of the computer also started moving. He grabbed a handful of toilet paper and began to masturbate.

The girl on the screen was laid down on the ground. The professor, with Fatty's obviously stiff body, walked to the girl's side. The two squatted down, and Fatty whispered something in the girl's ear. Then the girl seemed to suddenly come to her senses and got up.

The girl deftly pulled down her underwear and then coiled around the fat guy like a snake. His legs went weak, and the two of them tumbled backward out of the frame. Then all that could be heard were seductive moans and the fat guy's unpleasant groans.

The fat guy in front of the screen also groaned, but frankly, it was incredibly short-lived.

The fat guy let out a long sigh, threw the wad of toilet paper into the trash can, and then turned off the computer screen. I heard his footsteps approaching, so I quickly rolled over, pretending to be fast asleep.

Then the whole bed started shaking, and the fat guy slowly climbed on top of me. Judging from his breathing, he was looking me up and down. After a while, he seemed to believe I was really asleep, and then he climbed off the bed.

"Idiot, even if I was really asleep, you woke me up now," I thought.

I looked at my phone, waiting for time to pass. Doing nothing but waiting was incredibly agonizing. Finally, after more than an hour, the fat guy started snoring, and I quietly got out of bed and turned on his computer.

I found the video in the playback program's history and uploaded it to the cloud drive. The whole process took less than ten minutes. Then I quickly went back to bed, picked up my phone to start downloading the video, and then hid under the covers, put on my headphones, and started watching to see what was going on.

The film opens with an empty room, followed by the sound of a door opening.

The professor leads the female student into the room and begins explaining the experiment's procedure. It's essentially testing how students react to music when in rooms of different colors. The student with the camera (the chubby guy) is recording the experiment.

The female student nods and turns to face the wall as instructed. After giving the chubby guy a few instructions, the professor turns to leave, then suddenly taps her on the shoulder when she's not looking.

"Huh?" The female student turns around, her face full of confusion.

At this moment, the professor inexplicably reached out his hand, as if to shake hers. The female student instinctively reached out in response. Suddenly, the professor's left hand gripped her wrist, and he said in a deep voice, "Let your arm slowly hang down, and at the same time, enter a state of dazedness."

Seeing this, I exclaimed, "Master."

The professor used the human habit of shaking hands, making the other person raise their hand spontaneously, but then interrupted it midway, causing the female student to fall into an even more bewildered state after her initial confusion. This technique is called pattern blocking. The most difficult part is to give verbal prompts at the moment the other person is stunned; otherwise, the other person might quickly come to their senses and react.

But looking at the female student's blank eyes, I was even more confused. What's next?

"Come and help me support her," the professor said to the camera.

The camera shook, and then the chubby guy appeared from behind. He walked behind the female student and awkwardly grabbed her shoulder.

"Now let's begin the real experiment," the professor's voice couldn't hide his excitement.

He walked out of the room and soon returned pushing a cart with two helmets on it.

The professor placed one helmet on the girl's head and put the other on himself.

"I just explained what to do if the machine works smoothly. Now I'm telling you, if it fails, just leave us behind. I can't be a burden to you," the professor said. The chubby guy seemed frightened.

"Master, I won't leave you! I'm willing to do anything!"

The professor smiled and said, "I was worried about how to start this experiment, but I met you. It's my luck. Not everyone dares to do this. Even if it fails, I'll be happy. You can continue your research with my results."

After hearing this, the chubby guy didn't say anything more. I think he was just worried that if something went wrong, his dream would be shattered.

Then the professor turned on the machine. His body began to spasm irregularly the moment he pressed the button, as did the girl's. After a while, the strange spasms slowly stopped.

"What happened?" the girl asked slowly, tears welling in her eyes, looking pitiful.

"Professor?" the chubby guy asked tentatively.

"Professor? Who are you talking about?" the girl asked blankly.

The fat man seemed startled to realize the experiment had failed, and in a panic, he let go of the girl and threw her down. The girl's head hit the cart hard, and she fell to the ground.

"Ouch! That hurts!" the girl cried out.

Then she saw the professor lying on the ground.

"That's right, I was doing an experiment!" The girl instantly snapped back to reality, then turned around and grabbed the fat man who was about to run away. "Big Fat, my experiment was a success! I succeeded! The mind implantation experiment was a success!"

"What!" the fat man said excitedly, squatting down and shaking the girl's shoulders violently.

"Ouch..." the girl cried out in pain, and the fat man calmed down a little, realizing that he was facing the body of a mature woman.

"Let's continue the experiment!" The professor inside the girl's body seemed to have truly become a young girl; she jumped up, grabbed the fat man's hand, and spun around. "Quickly help me put my body and the machine aside, and remember to check if the camera is pointed."

"No problem!"

After everything was settled, the fat man walked to the camera, and then the lens moved to the center of the room, pointing at the girl.

"Now I'm going to start preparing for self-suggestion and conditioning," the girl said to the camera. “What I have in my hand now is a special potion that can lower my willpower and greatly increase my libido.”

As she spoke, she inserted the needle into her arm. Her already somewhat assertive face, with her brows furrowed, seemed to hold a mixture of anger and resentment tinged with shyness.

“Ugh…it’s so itchy…” Less than a few minutes after the injection, the girl shivered, then began rubbing her breasts and genitals through her clothes. “I didn’t expect…the effects…to be so strong, ah! Quick…bring my body over here, haaaah!”

She said, squatting down, her whole body trembling.

“It hurts so much…hurry! Ahhh!”

The camera started to shake, then dropped, focusing on the professor’s limp legs. Then the camera panned, revealing the girl’s long, wavy hair now disheveled. She struggled to take off her sweater, frantically tearing off her bra, revealing her two full, round breasts with erect nipples.

The girl pounced on the lifeless male body, grabbed his hand, and inserted it into her genitals, beginning to rhythmically twist her body—she was actually masturbating with her own hand!

She used her entire arm as a stick, rubbing it back and forth between her breasts and groin. I was deeply attracted by her obsessive behavior, and couldn't help but swallow hard. At the same time, I heard swallowing sounds coming from the screen.

"I love this taste, haha…give it to me, anything is fine! Mmm! I want it so much…"

the girl said, releasing the man's hand and starting to unbuckle her belt—she knelt on the ground, her buttocks raised, her upper body pressed tightly against the man's genitals, her fair back forming a sexy line.

Watching her lewd posture, my underwear tightened, but I knew I had to remain rational and see how things would develop.

On the screen, the girl, whose consciousness had been implanted by the professor, propped herself up, her vulva swirling around the penis. She reached out and played with her vulva, stirring with a finger inside, making herself moan repeatedly.

"Mmm! I love your penis, teacher! Come and fuck me!"

After saying that, she squatted down on the man's body, and the unconscious but hard penis slid straight in.

"Ahhhhhh!" The girl let out a high-pitched, lewd cry.

"A man's penis, hah...it feels so good!"

After the penis entered, the girl twisted her hips even more wildly, her hands on the ground, swinging wildly, the image of the fierce penis constantly going in and out below her white buttocks, constantly emitting lewd sounds.

"Ah...ah! So good...my pussy feels so good being fucked!"

The girl began to rhythmically rotate her hips, as if she wanted to squeeze out the last bit of energy from the man.

"Ugh! Hmm... Ah... Oh dear! My pussy is going to be ruined, the teacher has to take responsibility, hmm... Ah!"

She rocked faster and faster, her whole body drenched in fragrant sweat, a liquid that was hard to tell if it was vaginal fluid or sweat, constantly spraying out in all directions, the girl moaning loudly. "Ugh... Ahh... Ahhhhhhh!"

Finally, she collapsed onto the man's body, completely exhausted, her petite body panting heavily.

"Bring the camera over," she said breathlessly.

I think Fatty must have been enduring a lot.

“Now this body has completely memorized the pleasure of sex. Next, all I need to do is keep connecting her to that pleasure, and then during hypnosis, I can make her unable to resist sexual suggestions.” The girl’s face was flushed; the afterglow of sex had replaced her previous domineering aura with a delicate, feminine charm.

“Then, by fabricating her memories and behaviors, I can continuously deepen the suggestions.” She spoke to the camera about her plan, but the more I listened, the more uneasy I felt.

They left the room and went to another. The girl sat in a chair, and a professor’s voice came through a tape recorder beside her.

“You’re feeling increasingly relaxed.”

“I want you to listen carefully… attentively… with all your heart to my voice.”

“You’re already very relaxed, completely relaxed… Now your mind is blank.”

Listening to the professor’s voice, I knew this kind of manipulation was ineffective, but the girl in the chair, or rather, the girl controlled by the professor’s consciousness, began to slowly drift into sleep.

“Your eyelids are heavy, very heavy, irresistibly heavy… You want to rest, but you can’t.” The professor’s pre-recorded voice continued, while the girl in the chair showed a pained expression.

Then it dawned on me—this was all an act! She was pretending to be hypnotized, then using this video to perform reverse hypnosis, making the girl believe things she didn't believe before.

And judging from the previous stages, the professor seemed capable of directly using self-suggestion or coercive control to make the girl's body and mind accept content originating from her own consciousness.

Rather than hypnosis, it was more like the professor using her own consciousness as a virus to invade the girl's mind and implant a false consciousness—even so, if the false consciousness were too real, it might even affect the professor's own mind, hence the need for this indirect, repetitive method.

"I am your master, only my command can grant you rest."

"Ugh..." the girl groaned in pain. "I want... please let me rest."

"You must acknowledge me as your master, otherwise you cannot rest."

"Please, I'll do anything you say... I'm so tired, I want to rest..."

"Then repeat after me, say I am my master's slave."

"I am... my master's slave..." the girl repeated blankly.

I couldn't help but marvel at the professor's acting skills; if I had seen it, I think I would have believed it too.

The video continued, like a typical hypnotic novel. The girl submitted to the hypnotic power, then the image disappeared, only to brighten again, showing a naked girl kneeling before the professor.

"Don't worry, it'll be your turn to enjoy it later," the professor said.

The girl's face returned to its former domineering expression, and she reluctantly unzipped the professor's pants.

"Good, now we'll familiarize her with the techniques of serving men, and the feeling of submission."

It turned out that the girl's body had transformed into a fat man.

The girl swallowed and released the man's penis, her movements stiff and clearly showing disgust. Suddenly, the professor pushed the girl to the ground, pinning her down from behind.

"Master, what are you doing!" the fat man inside the girl cried out, but when spoken by the girl, it sounded like a lustful moan that only fueled her lust.

"Women should submit to men!" the professor cursed viciously, transforming himself. He grabbed the girl's chin, turned her face, and forcefully kissed her lips.

"Ugh... Stop!" the girl struggled desperately.

“Hehe, you’ll be begging me in a minute!” The professor grabbed her breasts and kneaded them vigorously, while skillfully teasing her nipples.

“Mmm…”

The girl couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure, perhaps the previous hints had taken effect, or perhaps the professor had used an aphrodisiac.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want it? Look at you now, weren’t you enjoying it just now?”

“No, how could I enjoy it? I was, ah! Ugh…”

Seemingly not wanting the fat man to have any thoughts that would disrupt his mental integrity, the professor sealed her lips with his own, his other hand already deep inside the girl’s crotch, teasing her. Her will to resist seemed to have been replaced by pleasure, and judging from the girl’s moans, she was no longer able to think clearly.

“You were born a woman, and women are meant to be played with by men!”

The professor said as he teased the girl’s vulva. The pleasure combined with the shock of being suddenly attacked, along with the past hints and drugs, had completely enslaved the girl to desire.

"Look at yourself, you just want to be raped by me, you want to be my slave!"

"What...you said...ah!"

Seeing that she still had the will to resist, the professor immediately increased the speed of his fingers, and the girl's momentary rationality was immediately replaced by another wave of orgasm.

"You're just a slut who wants to be fucked by a man, just accept your fate, as long as you admit it, you can get even greater pleasure!"

"No, stop...stop...uhhh! Huh?"

The professor suddenly pulled his hand away, and the girl felt a sense of emptiness, looking blankly at the man who was humiliating her.

Another mode interruption! The professor suddenly roared.

"You feel good, don't you? That pleasure is about to engulf you!" He said, and the girl rolled her eyes. "But you're almost there, you can't get pleasure without permission!"

"Permission? No, I want...uhh...give it to me!"

"I want to give you pleasure, but someone is stopping me!"

"Who is it? Stop...give it to me, I really want to...tell him to stop!"

I was amazed by the professor's switching techniques. He turned the original resistance into a resistance to resistance, and the girl, caught between confusion and the edge of orgasm, couldn't detect this logical trap at all.

“That’s right, as long as he stops, you can have an orgasm. You just need to say that keyword!”

“I’ll say it! I’ll do anything you want! Tell me what to say!” The girl crawled in front of the professor, begging humbly.

“Say you’re my slave, that you were born to be fucked by men, you slut!”

“I’m your slave… I was born to be fucked by men!”

“Are you a slutty woman who was born to be a slave to men, good for nothing?” the professor continued to press.

“Yes, whatever you say is right… Give it to me now, please fuck this slutty slave to death with your cock!” The girl shouted obscene words, she climbed onto the man’s waist, licking his cock like a puppy.

The professor pushed her away forcefully and roared, “A slutty woman like you can only kneel on the ground and wait for men to fuck you!”

Hearing this, the girl immediately knelt on the ground, her honey pot covered in vaginal fluid facing the center of the camera.

The professor walked forward with satisfaction, firmly grasping the girl's buttocks with both hands, leaving red claw marks on her snow-white buttocks. Then he thrust himself into her honey pot.

Pain accompanied by boundless pleasure, the girl screamed as she reached orgasm.

"You'll never forget this pleasure for the rest of your life," the professor continued to suggest, while thrusting repeatedly, bringing the girl to even greater climaxes.

"Ugh... Ahh... Ughhh! Ahhh! Yahhhhh!"

Then the scene suddenly disappeared, followed by another scene: the professor was still having sex with a girl, but I instinctively knew this was a different location—even a different time!

I broke out in a cold sweat, pulled back the covers, and was about to get up to confront Fatty.

Fatty's snoring had stopped sometime earlier.

I looked at the edge of the bed; Fatty's large face was facing me, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"This isn't the first day of the experiment, is it?" I retorted.

"Of course not, the experiment has been going on for three months."

"Then why did you lie to me that tonight was the first night?"

Fatty looked at me, puzzled, without speaking. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, and I couldn't help but look in the direction of the sound—and then there was darkness.

When I woke up, I found myself covered with a black cloth, my hands cuffed behind my back to a chair.

"Master, his condition seems strange, so I brought him here," Fatty said in a disgusting tone.

"You did a good job; I'll reward you later," the professor's voice said.

"Thank you, Master," Fatty said, still in that disgusting tone.

A hand lifted the black cloth, and I found myself in the room from the video, with the fat guy holding a camera pointed at me.

"What do you want to do!" I shouted, trying to quell my fear.

"Hmm...maybe I've been stimulated by something." The professor ignored me, as if I were lifeless, just a puppet.

"Alright, let's do it again," the professor said, then walked towards me, followed by a sharp pain in my right arm.

"What did you do to me! I'm a man!" The thought of what he might have hit me sent shivers down my spine.

"Hmph, a man? What are you talking about?" the professor chuckled.

I swayed in panic, only then noticing my long brown hair falling to my side and my two bouncing breasts.

"Don't worry, nothing will happen," he said, reaching out his hand to me.

When I woke up, I felt languid and didn't want to move.

My whole body was hot and sweaty, and my head was spinning; I couldn't understand anything.

"Tell me how you feel," a distant voice asked.

"I feel so tired, so relaxed."

"And what else?"

What else? I tried to think, but I only felt more and more tired, no matter what he said.

"I don't know...you decide...I'm so tired..."

I heard laughter, and at the same time, I felt my breasts were itchy and swollen.

"You want to obey, you want to obey my voice and pleasure."

The voice said, and then a hand began to caress my breasts, it felt so good...so comfortable.

I heard soft music, I wanted to obey this voice, obey his thoughts, I wanted happiness, I wanted him to continue caressing me, but it seemed like there was something else...

"That's right, obedience will make you happy...very happy."

"Mmm...I, I'm so happy...ahh..."

I felt someone caressing my lower body, it felt so good, so tingly...I like this, I want more happiness, more obedience, but it's still a little bit missing.

"Ah! It's so itchy...so comfortable...mmm! Give it to me!"

"No, you're not obedient enough, so I can't give it to you."

I'm not obedient enough...but I've been so obedient, I've done everything my master says...Master? That's right, I have to obey my master, I belong to my master, only by obeying my master can I get happiness.

"Master, please... give it to me quickly, quickly... ahhhhhh!"

Suddenly, I felt my master's penis thrust into my soaking wet vagina. He rubbed my large breasts as he penetrated. I belong to my master, only my master can give me pleasure!

"Ugh... Master, fuck me quickly... I belong to my master, ahhh! Uh-huh ahhhhh!"

"Remember this feeling, never forget it for the rest of your life," my master said.

My mind went blank, my body actively responded to my master, I floated higher and higher, my consciousness became more and more blurred, I heard someone scream, that was the pleasure that could only be obtained after complete obedience.

Then I fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, I found myself lying in my master's arms.

"You're awake?"

"Master~" I buried my face in my master's chest shyly.

"I found that even through consciousness input, hypnosis still has its limits, external consciousness is still external consciousness." My master suddenly started talking about strange topics. “Only with willing cooperation from the beginning, coupled with the conscious individual’s active reinforcement, can complete hypnosis be achieved, like you.”

The master said, kissing my cheek. I felt as if my whole body was melting.

“You need to enter a girl’s body, play the role of a hypnotized and humiliated woman, and then finally become completely integrated with the body to reach this level. Perhaps it’s because consciousness detached from the body becomes more fragile.” The master said, one hand starting to play with my vulva. A wanton girl like me would have her juices flowing out as soon as the master’s fingers touched me.

“Orgasm.” The master suddenly said.

Before I even realized what was happening, pleasure spread from where the master’s fingers were and rushed straight to my brain. My eyes rolled back, and tears, urine, and vaginal fluid mixed together and flowed out like a burst dam. Wave after wave of pleasure came, and I could only keep letting out wanton moans.

“Stop.” The master said.

The pleasure suddenly subsided, but the feeling remained in my body. I knew that only the master could give me this kind of pleasure, and being able to obey the master was an immense stroke of luck.

“But sometimes, to avoid being discovered, we have to let your bodies return to their original state, which leads to the situation we discussed earlier,” the master said regretfully. “It means I have to go through all that trouble to train you again.”

“Master, I’m sorry, this little slave won’t do it again.” Although I didn’t understand what the master was talking about, I knew it might be related to me.

“It’s not your fault, I’ve already thought of a solution,” the master said. “Now, go to sleep.”

I opened my eyes, looked at the black screen of my phone, and pulled back the covers. Fatty was still snoring on the other end… It turned out that what I was doing was just my imagination. I let out a long sigh and put the phone aside.

A weekend later, it was that damn professor’s psychology class again. I saw the girl with the long, wavy hair from the video, sitting alone in the corner by the window.

Although I didn’t understand how the professor and Fatty did it, since the basis was hypnosis, I figured I could achieve the same effect with regular hypnosis.

“Hi, may I sit here?”

She gave me a cold look and didn’t say anything. She probably thought I was just trying to strike up a conversation.

I quickly reached out and patted her left shoulder. She stared at me in surprise. Before she could react, I covered her face with my right hand and pulled her back down. Then I whispered in her ear, "Relax now and listen to my voice."

"Yes... Master," she said blankly.

I was overjoyed. Although I had only used superficial hypnosis to bring out the professor's hard work, I couldn't help feeling very proud.

"Without my command, you are not allowed to make any sound," I said. "Then I will count to three, and you will experience the most intense climax of your life."

"One, two, three, climax!"

Her eyes widened, her tongue slightly protruding as she let out a silent moan. Tears of climax slid down her cheeks, and then she slowly curled up, trembling uncontrollably. I knew that in that instant, she could feel a thunderous shock, an incredible climax that made her bite her lower lip tightly to obey my commands for the rest of the time.

"Alright, now tell me who brought you to climax."

"My master," she said obediently.

"Who is your master?" I asked.

"Professor OO," she said. I frowned, then thought that if I changed the command to mine, it would definitely give me away, so I decided to stick to this command.

"Now lie down on my lap," I said. By this time, the professor had already gone up to the podium to give a lecture, and the students were scattered throughout the classroom, most of them asleep. I adjusted the angle, using the table and my coat to conceal her head resting on my lap without anyone noticing.

"Serve my cock well," I whispered.

Then, her soft hand took out my penis and began to slowly stroke it. When it was sufficiently hard, her warm, wet tongue pressed against the tip, circling it. I had to try very hard to hold back a sound. Her

warm lips took my penis in, sucking tightly while teasing it with her tongue.

I felt a surge of physical pleasure, enjoying the service of a beautiful woman—I thought of novels where it was said that using a woman's body was the most pleasurable experience; maybe I could steal that machine someday and try it.

Thinking about this, I felt sleepy, so I slowly leaned on the table, enjoying the woman's oral sex. Slowly, I drifted off to sleep. In my dream, I vaguely saw myself as that girl, lying in my master's arms, enjoying the pleasure of a woman's orgasm—a pleasure that could only be obtained through obedience.

I was so happy, so eager to obey.

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