Hypnotic Reincarnation

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 10:12:02

Jessica blinked, feeling a sand-like sensation in her eyes. Slowly, she began to adjust to the bright light shining on her face. She felt a strange dizziness and weakness, like the early symptoms of the flu. Jessica lay down on something to rest and tried to remember, but for some reason, thinking became difficult. Her thoughts slowed, and she couldn't think of anything despite her best efforts. She tried her best to recall where she was and what had happened. The last thing she remembered was going to the parking lot to get her car after her weekly gymnastics test on Wednesday nights. Next came vague memories of people and voices, then complete blankness. Jessica frowned at this troubling thought, but for some reason, she couldn't associate any emotion with it—no anger, no fear. What was the point of such troubling thoughts without emotional response? They were just thoughts,

　　a fog obstructing her mind. Jessica began to enjoy the glow of the fluorescent light above her head, and when she found thinking so difficult, she gave up.

　　After a while, Jessica didn't know how much time had passed, when someone entered her room. The person stood very close, but Jessica didn't look up, so the person remained out of her sight. She didn't want to; looking up now would be as difficult as running two marathons.

　　Suddenly, Jessica heard a loud, monosyllabic word, a clear and unambiguous command.

　　"Stand," the person beside her commanded.

　　Jessica's muscles immediately sprang to life, her previous sluggishness vanishing. She jumped up, climbed off the bed she had been lying on, and felt the cold tiles beneath her feet. When she stood up, Jessica realized she was completely naked; her clothes were gone. Her small but exquisite breasts stood freely on her chest, and the pubic hair between her legs had been shaved off. However, she couldn't muster even the slightest emotion towards this fact. All her attention was focused on the command she had to carry out. Stand; nothing else mattered.

　　Jessica stood at attention, hands at her sides, legs together, chest out, head held high. This was the most natural and normal posture she felt.

　　Finally, Jessica had the chance to see the woman who had given her orders. Even in her current state of slowed thinking, the woman before her still shocked her.

　　The woman stood looking at Jessica. She was slightly taller and thinner than Jessica, with a perfectly proportioned figure. She wore a full set of reflective white rubber. Rubber gloves almost covered her arms, and black tight rubber stockings covered her thighs up to her high-heeled boots. The woman's breasts and bare genitals were completely exposed, with a conspicuous brand tattoo above her genitals. Jessica read the only monosyllabic word on the woman's genitals: slave. If that wasn't shocking enough, the woman's face was barely visible; a white rubber hood covered the woman's head, leaving only her eyes, mouth, and nose exposed. The hood was fastened around the woman's neck in a very tight and uncomfortable way.

　　"You can't think," the woman in the rubber suit told her calmly and clearly, with an unquestionable tone.

　　If she could nod, she certainly would. It was true; she genuinely didn't know why she couldn't think. But she knew it wasn't anything to worry about, and she wanted the woman to know she understood.

　　The words flowed calmly from her, "I can't think," Jessica agreed.

　　As soon as she finished speaking, Jessica returned to her most important position: standing. All her attention was focused on this simple action. For some reason, Jessica knew she had to maintain this somewhat uncomfortable posture.

　　A pause. The woman's full lips began to speak again, "You need to obey."

　　Once again, Jessica nodded inwardly. Once again, she had to admit that the woman was right. She couldn't think for herself, so she needed to be told what to do. Jessica needed to be commanded and guided. She knew she was completely incapable of thinking and making decisions independently. So all she could do was accept instructions.

　　"I need to obey," Jessica repeated.

　　Another pause. Jessica resumed standing and looked at the woman, waiting for her to speak again.

　　"You are a slave," the woman instructed her.

　　Jessica focused on this new information for a moment. She was a slave? It sounded right. The rubber woman hadn't deceived her before. But for some reason, Jessica felt something was different this time; this message was far more important than anything she'd ever felt before. Jessica still had some memories of the past—laughter and kisses under a large tree on a warm summer day. Jessica knew it was a happy time; she remembered. But those were just thoughts before the flashing lights and spinning wheels destroyed her mind. Now she was a slave.

　　"I am a slave," Jessica calmly declared. Memories were just that—memories were time that had passed, a period of life that Jessica had once possessed. Now, Jessica was a slave.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　■■＊＊

　　Teresa strode confidently through the bustling airport exit with her expensive suitcase. It had been six months since she last saw Jessica. Since her sister found that job in this faraway city, Teresa had missed her dearly. Beneath her calm, cold professional exterior, Teresa's concern for her sister was so tender. Of course, they often chatted on the phone about love and work, but nothing was better than being together. When Theresa mentioned she had about two weeks of vacation with no particular plans, Jessica hinted that she should come over.

　　It was the last vacation before the new advance team began training. Right now, the politicians were

　　still

　　finding political reasons to eliminate this semi-autonomous organization—unapproved by various departments and law enforcement agencies, yet capable of handling all the unknown affairs. Abusing power and shirking responsibility were the privileges of politicians, but from an ethical standpoint, Theresa didn't see it as a problem. She would deal with any obstacles those politicians placed in her path, just as she had done in the Secret Service. As a deputy director, she was capable of doing so, especially at only 34 years old, possessing intelligence, beauty, and ruthless cunning—which ensured Theresa's climb to the top of this coveted position—the director with complete control—was entirely possible.

　　Through the railing, Theresa immediately saw her sister. Tall and with naturally blonde hair, Jessica had always been the cutest of the sisters, but today she was truly captivating. Even through Jessica's heavy winter coat, Theresa could see her curves were more pronounced, and her face was radiant. Had her breasts gotten bigger? It was hard to tell from this distance. Perhaps she was mistaken, Theresa smiled and walked towards her glowing sister.

　　"Wow, big sister..." Jessica exclaimed excitedly.

　　"You're the one who's great," Theresa smiled, "You look amazing! You must be seeing someone but haven't told me."

　　Jessica laughed. "Pretty much, I can't wait to tell you all this," her sister chuckled in response, "But how about a hug first?"

　　With the happiest smile, Theresa stepped in and hugged Jessica. Around them were still the arriving passengers and their welcoming relatives. Theresa smelled Jessica's favorite perfume as they embraced, and Jessica held her tightly.

　　Suddenly, without warning, Theresa felt a sharp pain on the back of her neck. Jessica slowly removed her left hand from Theresa's neck; the small hole and the trace of blood from where the needle had been inserted were almost invisible under Theresa's slightly dirty blonde hair.

　　Theresa was startled by the sudden pain. Her mouth gaped open, but a scream caught in her throat. Her head throbbed, she couldn't move, and something very strange was happening. She should have reacted; her training should have enabled her to overcome this, but she hadn't. Theresa remained still, her body leaning towards her sister for support. As time passed, Theresa's thoughts grew increasingly sluggish until even the initial surprise and panic had vanished.

　　"Yes, that's right, sister," Jessica whispered in her ear. "Don't worry, I know you feel strange, but it will be alright. We're going out now. Hold my hand, and do as I say. You must obey my orders."

　　"Yes..." Theresa mumbled, thinking was proving too difficult. Jessica would tell her what to do; her sister would take care of her.

　　Following the flowing crowd, the two sisters left the building. Two other women followed them at a distance, one of them pulling Theresa's forgotten suitcase.

　　No one noticed.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　■■＊＊

　　She focused her gaze on the specific focal point her controller had commanded her to pay attention to. The journey was long, but Jessica's sense of time had changed since she entered her mistress's domain.

　　She had led Theresa to the other slave-controlled trucks just outside the airport. She watched emotionlessly as the female slaves bound her sister, loaded her into the truck, and injected her with an unknown liquid.

　　Theresa quickly fell unconscious.

　　Her controller then took control of her. As the sullen, ebony-skinned woman held her in place, Jessica felt a pleasurable tingling sensation from submission washing over her genitals. Releasing her grip, the sharp, retrievable needle she had just used to inject the willpower suppressant fell out. After that, the slave made Jessica stare at that specific focal point. Even though parts of Jessica's consciousness knew she was looking at an unidentifiable truck, her thoughts spun endlessly within her mind.

　　The unidentifiable transport truck was already on its way.

　　Jessica coldly realized the truck had stopped. She heard the door open. Her sister's submissive body was lifted and placed on a stretcher.

　　The delicious spiral continued to spin, Jessica's underwear completely soaked.

　　Her controller had taken control of her again, and only then did Jessica realize she was in an underground parking garage. Mechanically keeping herself upright, Jessica awaited the next command. Her thoughts and desires remained linked to the spiral; Jessica obeyed and submitted. Following the black female slave's footsteps, Jessica entered the building and familiarly ascended the stairs to the lower level.

　　Finally, Jessica found herself alone in the small bedroom that had served as her home for months.

　　Her controller was gone. Jessica continued to stare blankly at the gray and white spiral on the opposite wall.

　　All she saw was that alluring, shimmering,

　　spinning, pulsating spiral that melted her mind and filled her with an insatiable hunger.

　　Time slowly passed, but Jessica didn't notice.

　　The door opened. The spiral suddenly vanished, and her thoughts returned to her body. Jessica gasped as she heard her master enter the room. She found herself kneeling automatically on the cold floor, her head bowed low, too ashamed to look up at her god. Jessica's body trembled with awe at being before her master.

　　Jessica gazed at her master's perfect feet, her neatly manicured toes encased in white patent leather slippers. Jessica longed to lick and suck those sacred toes with her mouth and tongue. Then her master might use those beautiful toes to penetrate her already overflowing vagina. The pulse of desire surged through Jessica's clitoris, and beneath her clothes, streams of lustful fluid flowed down her thighs.

　　"You can look at me, slave," her master teased.

　　Jessica slowly, with awe, raised her head and gazed at her master's face. If looking at her toes was like being in heaven, then looking directly at her face was like nirvana. Jessica's genitals were no longer numb and itchy; now, a lot of vaginal fluid was gushing out.

　　For Jessica, looking directly at her master was pure pleasure.

　　Her master was pleased by her obvious affection and laughed indulgently. At least, that's what she hoped for.

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　　"You did a good job, slave," the master continued, "The execution of this plan was perfect."

　　"Yes... M-Master..." Jessica trembled as she felt a wave of pleasure coursing through her body.

　　"Months of meticulous preparation have finally paid off; you've perfectly executed what I asked you to do.

　　Although you wouldn't be like this if I hadn't done what I did to you these past few months, seeing your efforts finally bear fruit is still a happy thing."

　　Struggling to control her body, which was being overwhelmed by another wave of pleasure, Jessica stammered, "Yes... um... ah... master... ..."

　　Her master's brown eyes boredly peered into Jessica's soul. "Slave, do you know what you've done for me?"

　　Enduring the increasing pleasurable tremors within her, Jessica answered, "Yes, master... master... I betrayed my sister, lured her here, and made her a slave."

　　Her master's eyes sparkled with pleasure. "And what does Jessica think about this?"

　　Looking at her goddess with moist eyes, Jessica's mind filled with an exciting haze as she answered, "I knew I would never... betray her before I became your slave. I... I love her, my...

　　sister..." she gasped.

　　“I know that, slave. Something sweeter made you betray her; you willingly offered your sister to serve me. Now she’s in a state of sensory deprivation, learning how to be a passionate, dog-like little slut like you. She’ll become a puppet brainwashed by me, possessing nothing but the thoughts I give her. And I know you want her to be my slave; you want me to completely possess her body and soul, just like you, bitch.”

　　“Yes…yes, Master…Master…”

　　“Perfect answer, slave. You’ve done very well. It’s time to write your reward. Do you want it, slave?”

　　“Yes…yes, Master…Master…” Jessica struggled to answer.

　　"I think Jessica is no longer of any use. Her personality and memories are no longer necessary, as they would only create unnecessary obstacles to your complete obedience to me. Do you agree, slave?"

　　She drooled greedily. "Yes... um... ah... Master... Master..."

　　"Very good, slave. I can see you are eager to join my ranks. Perhaps it would be appropriate to give you a small demonstration to show you what will happen to you."

　　The master pointed to a woman who had appeared beside him. Jessica, to her dismay, found herself unable to tear her gaze from the tall slave standing rigidly beside him. "Remove your hood and lower your head, slave," the master commanded the petite, olive-skinned, large-breasted woman beside him.

　　The woman reached behind her neck and unfastened the clasp, then began to remove the entire hood and neck ring that concealed her face. A beautiful woman in her early twenties with rabbit-like eyes looked back at Jessica. The slave stared blankly ahead for a moment before lowering her bald head as instructed.

　　Jessica could clearly see many small metal rings attached to her bald scalp along the contours of her head. The master playfully fiddled with the metal-covered head with his fingers.

　　"My great invention," the master muttered, "a complete organic biological nerve fiber system leading to the brain. Existing thought control and memories will be eliminated by the fibers, effectively turning the brain into a blank slate that I can create at will."

　　Jessica knelt and swayed, desperately trying to control the intense waves of pleasure surging through her body.

　　The master smiled. "This is your future, Jessica. You're about to become like her. From now on, every thought, every memory, every action of yours will be the result of my complete control over your mind. When the nerve

　　fibers replace your brain's functions, you'll find that what you're feeling now is like nothing at all

　　. Every moment of your waking and sleeping will be surrounded by serving me, obeying me, and the comfort that comes with it."

　　Jessica was clearly panting. Her head seemed dazed; she could hardly hear a word her master said.

　　"You're not a warrior, Jessica, you're a worker bee. You'll depend on me, carrying out whatever task I give you. From organizing boxes and cleaning toilets to licking the genitals of your fellow slaves, you'll spend your entire life in a state of constant effort to fulfill your boundless adoration for me."

　　Her genitals burned like fire. Her erect nipples rubbed directly against her bra. Struggling to control the throbbing in her body, Jessica tried to remain standing.

　　"Oh, of course, I'll fuck you again and again." Her master's eyes twinkled mischievously.

　　Jessica's eyes rolled back, almost losing consciousness. She had to frantically swing backward to prevent herself from falling face-first onto the hard floor. Jessica lost control of her body; her muscles spasmed uncontrollably under the pressure. An irresistible, hellish pleasure made her uncontrollably want to completely submit to her master.

　　The master laughed loudly, "I can see you're completely ready to offer yourself to me as my slave."

　　He licked her full, bright red lips, paused, and teased his helpless captive for a moment.

　　"Orgasm, slave, orgasm now."

　　The sudden climax forever engulfed Jessica's body and mind, leaving behind a painful scream that echoed in the corridor.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　■■＊＊

　　The bright light shone on Theresa's face, making her eyes uncomfortable. She woke up to find herself lying in a bed. She felt confused and drowsy; her head was foggy and she struggled to connect her thoughts. But since she couldn't do anything but lie in bed, Theresa began to recall.

　　Small things—the unpalatable airline food, the boring wait for her luggage, Jessica's gentle

　　smile, and her blue, smiling eyes.

　　These were fragments of recent events. But she couldn't seem to remember them; the memories flickered as Theresa gazed at the fluorescent light shining down from above.

　　She knew she seemed to sense something. A troubling fact was that something important had happened, but the thought lasted only a few seconds before being replaced by the memory of updating her National Geographic subscription when she got home. Why couldn't she take photos like them? She wanted to be a photographer, earn a salary, travel to faraway places, and see all sorts of interesting things. How cool.

　　Theresa knew someone had entered the room. She heard the sound of high heels clicking on the tiles, and the person stopped beside her, just out of her sight.

　　"Stand up," the figure beside the bed commanded sternly.

　　Theresa found herself getting up and climbing off the bed she had been lying on. With only slight surprise, Theresa found herself completely naked, her pubic hair shaved off, so smooth that it made her genitals look somewhat strange. Without thinking further, Theresa brought her legs together on the cold, hard floor, focused her attention, placed her hands by her sides, and straightened her back.

　　Her mentor was standing before her. With a slight hint of surprise, Theresa looked at the woman before her. The woman wore shimmering black high-heeled boots that reached her thighs, a black rubber strap clung to her labia, revealing a rubber bra that accentuated her large, firm breasts, and white rubber gloves. A black hood, matching her collar, completed her outfit. The open hood revealed a pretty face in her early twenties. A single black letter was clearly tattooed on the woman's forehead—a monosyllabic word: Slave.

　　"J...Jesse..." Theresa murmured, as the cold, glass-eyed woman calmly looked at her. The woman with the slave tattoo on her forehead didn't react. Theresa tried to concentrate and remember. Her sister, Jessica—this was important; she had to remember.

　　"You can't think," the woman with her sister's face told her.

　　The urge to grasp the memory vanished as the woman spoke. He couldn't think? That was right; she truly had a hard time thinking. She used to be much better at thinking, but now, she truly couldn't.

　　“I can’t think,” Theresa replied in agreement.

　　The woman continued, “You need to obey.”

　　Yes, if she couldn’t think, then it was best to have someone tell her what to do. That seemed logical. Theresa had given orders before, so now she had to obey them. She needed to obey them.

　　“I need to obey,” Theresa followed her sister.

　　The woman in the plastic suit paused after focusing on Theresa’s answer. Was she pleased? It was hard to say; her face was truly expressionless, as if she were talking to a robot.

　　The woman announced in a calm, clear voice, “You are a slave.” She looked directly at Theresa with similar glassy eyes.

　　A slave? Where had she heard of that before? A new memory surfaced in Theresa’s mind. A vivid, clear memory she could recall. It was the flickering lights and a spiral that seemed to be spinning forever. She remembered a calm, comforting voice telling her something, many things, many important things that she needed to remember. That voice told her she was a slave! It was good to remember it. Theresa was pleased; she was a slave, just as the woman had told her.

　　"I am a slave," Theresa proudly affirmed.

　　While waiting for the woman's next instruction, Theresa wondered if the word "slave" was also written on her forehead—it looked so sexy on the hooded woman's head. Slave was such a sexy word.

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