I Couldn't Help It

Bonnie was lying in bed, her pale, chubby legs spread so wide her ankles dangled over the edges of the queen-sized mattress, her trembling hand resting quietly at last on her sated cunt, when the horrifying enormity of what she'd just done finally hit her. It broke through the drowsy afterglow she felt, pierced the fog of trance that still clung to her muzzy thoughts, and sluiced into her brain like a whole bucket of ice water. Her cloudy blue eyes refocused again on her surroundings as she fumbled around for her phone, desperately hoping that what happened wasn't really real.

But no. It hadn't been a horny, sexy daydream that simply popped into Bonnie's head somewhere around the second hour of edging and repeatedly listening to the hypnosis file that was now officially her masturbatory obsession. She could see the text right there, sent to her oldest friend in the whole wide world almost a solid hour ago. 'Hey Claire Bear Stare, check this shit out!' Followed by a link to the exact same video that had gripped and held Bonnie's mind in an inescapable grasp for almost a solid week now. And followed by a little notification that was just one ominous, terrifying word. 'Read.'

Bonnie immediately sent a follow-up as fast as her fingers would let her, hoping and praying she was in time even though she knew full well that Claire was sitting at home with nothing better to do than scroll through social media and shit-talk Leslie's ex on the group chat. There was absolutely no way her friend hadn't already clicked on that link on the assumption that it probably led to a new TikTok dance video, or some juicy bit of YouTube drama they could cackle about at brunch tomorrow. But it didn't stop Bonnie's thumbs from hammering out, 'Dpmt' c;ock tjat! Ot's spam!' and hitting send before she could even realize her right hand was too tired from hours of masturbation to type properly.

She stared at the screen, waiting anxiously for a response, but there was nothing. Not even the little 'Read' notification to let Bonnie know that Claire was looking at her texts instead of clicking on the link and going to the website it led to. The embedded video would autoplay, Bonnie knew. If she'd tried it right away, she'd already have watched the whole thing at least once by now. Bonnie forced her weary, sweat-soaked body into motion, levering herself up off the damp mattress and onto the bedroom floor.

A week ago, she would have been terrified of feeling seen. She would have been mortified by the notion of her best friend clicking on that link and finally finding out what secretly turned Bonnie on in the middle of the night when her lights were out and her finger was circling on her clit. She would have sent the same message, but she would have been sending it in the hopes of tricking her friend into avoiding the website that she'd discovered during one of her many, many dives down the rabbit hole of hypnokinky social media. Because Bonnie wouldn't have been able to look Claire in the eyes knowing that Claire knew her like that.

But now... Bonnie stumbled across the room, her legs rubbery with exhaustion and her thighs smearing pussy juice against one another with every step. It had been a week since she'd first found the site, seven days of edging her drippy cunt to the seductive spirals on the screen and letting the warm, soothing voice drift into her ears and take her through hour after looping hour of deep hypnotic programming. Seven days times eight hours of masturbation a day was... was... Bonnie's eyes glazed over for a moment as she fought the suggestion that math was boring and ultimately failed... it was a lot of brainwashing. She'd noticed it was beginning to genuinely affect her almost four days ago, and she still hadn't been able to tear herself away from the file. And that was with years of experience messing around with random inductions and shaking off unwanted post-hyps. Claire... Claire wasn't going to stand a chance.

Bonnie rummaged around in her dresser, grabbing one of the body-hugging crop-tops that she'd purchased in an impulsive shopping spree a couple days ago and squirming her way into it. It was a little too tight, which had the net effect of squeezing her boobs together into a valley of cleavage that attracted the attention of every man within a hundred-foot radius, but all of the alternatives were equally slutty now that she'd thrown her old wardrobe away and she didn't have much time to spend deliberating over clothing. Not when Claire could already be on her second full viewing of the video, her fingers already drifting down between her legs to masturbate while the file's brainwashing soaked into her vulnerable mind.

Because there was no way she was going to resist it. It was easily the most impressive file Bonnie had ever seen, smooth and seductive and utterly captivating, and that spiral hooked the eyes and utterly refused to let go. The first time Bonnie watched it, she didn't wake up until her phone died, and all that happened when she finally snapped out of it was that she plugged it in to the charger by her bed and left it that way while she edged until she passed out. Thank God it had been a Saturday, or she probably would have lost her job. Claire would be... Claire probably was... utterly mesmerized by it right now.

Bonnie looked for some underwear, but the drawer was completely empty. She let out a sigh of frustration--she knew she still had some panties somewhere in the apartment to put on when she got her cycle, but her subconscious mind had happily hidden its location away from her at the behest of the website's owner and she couldn't make herself give it up no matter how hard she tried. Going to work without anything on under her skirt had been the first sign that she was genuinely falling under the spell of the hypnotic voice that haunted her every waking moment, but knowing she was being brainwashed didn't make it any easier to resist.

Giving up, she went to her closet and grabbed the longest skirt she could still find. It barely covered Bonnie's cunt, even when she was standing ramrod-straight, but that would simply have to do; she needed to get moving if she wanted to stand any chance of saving her friend from the same fate that was slowly, inexorably claiming her. Bonnie knew she was getting weaker by the day, probably even by the hour--she already had a harder and harder time remembering what the voice said to her while she drifted into the spiral and edged herself stupid, and it was only the shock of realizing the magnitude of her betrayal that had snapped Bonnie out of her fugue state this time. Within a few more days....

She'd have to wipe Claire's chat history, she realized. Clear that link out of the phone, empty out the cache and cookies on the browser so that every trace of it was expunged, and then... oh jeez. She wouldn't have to tell Claire to block her, would she? No, that was too terrible to contemplate. No, she'd tell her friend that her phone had a computer virus and she shouldn't trust any links that came from it, and hope to hell that an hour or so with the hypnosis file had left her so confused and gullible that Bonnie could fill her brain with any kind of vaguely plausible nonsense and she'd buy it. And that her subconscious hadn't already memorized the URL for later sessions of helpless edging the way Bonnie's had. Her fingers itched with the desire to play with herself again despite the shot of adrenaline that was keeping her focused.

She slipped into her most comfortable pair of shoes and tottered for the door, still walking a little clumsily in the six-inch platform heels. God, she was going to be paying off her credit cards for months, but the pulse of pleasure Bonnie felt every time she saw herself in the mirror made it impossible to hold onto any real anxieties about her financial future. The website's owner... her owner, she thought with a sigh of drowsy rapture that made her clit throb with arousal... no doubt had some good ideas on how to take care of it. And her. God, Bonnie wanted someone to tell her what to do so badly now.

But she could at least stop Claire from the same fate. Bonnie walked through the living room as quickly as she could, grabbing her purse and her car keys and of course her phone, telling herself that there simply wasn't time to fix her make-up before she left the apartment and she couldn't possibly sit down and preen when her best and oldest friend needed her so badly. She tried to grab a jacket to put on over her shirt, but her subconscious must have known what the weather was like outside because it resolutely refused to let her. She flung open the front door, lifted one foot up to the threshold....

And stopped. And turned around. And went into her bedroom to carefully, lovingly apply blush and eyeliner and mascara and the sexiest, sluttiest hot pink lipstick she owned before her deeply conditioned brain would let her walk out the door.

After that, though, the fog in her mind cleared a little. It always did once Bonnie left the apartment--whatever suggestions she'd taken on board over the last seven days, one of them clearly involved acting normally in public so she didn't draw too much attention to herself. For a given value of 'normally', Bonnie reminded herself as she passed a man in the lobby whose appreciative gaze made her cunt gush a whole new coating of musk down her slippery thighs. She was turning into an exhibitionistic slut, yes. But not the kind of slut who got arrested and possibly explained to a police psychiatrist that she was following a post-hypnotic suggestion, at least. Whoever owned Bonnie now at least cared that much about her welfare.

Which meant that it wouldn't be so bad if Claire went under for them too, right? The treacherous thought snuck into Bonnie's head while she was starting up her car, sliding into the back of her brain and refusing to leave no matter how much she struggled to dislodge it. Of course she wasn't going to let it happen, she was literally on her way right now to smack the phone out of Claire's hands and wake her up before the suggestions wrapped their little tendrils around her best friend's mind and turned her into a slutty brainwashed fucktoy the same way they had Bonnie, but--but it wasn't like the hypnotist had forced her to quit her job or anything. They weren't making her suck dick for strangers. They weren't....

Okay. Yes. They were making Bonnie send an irresistible hypnosis file to her best friend. That was definitely bad. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they were in it together, would it? They could hang out in each other's bedrooms, they could watch the video on Claire's television, they could masturbate side by side and make sure they didn't fall so deeply into trance they wound up absorbing suggestions that were genuinely dangerous... it sounded nice, that was all. Not that she'd ever thought about Claire in that way before, but something about the notion of lying on the mattress next to her best friend with their hips pressing against one another was making Bonnie very, very wet. She was glad that Claire's place wasn't far away.

Because she wasn't sure if she'd be safe to drive when she was this distracted, naturally. Not at all because Bonnie's mind kept coming back to the mental image of the two of them like next to each other, their hands drifting between each other's legs to tease one another's soaking cunts ever deeper into submissive, programmed bliss. That wasn't what kept going through Bonnie's head as she went around to the sliding glass door that she knew her friend never bothered locking when she was home and awake... or at least, when she didn't realize that she was going to be asleep very soon.

Sure enough, Claire lay on the couch in an oblivious daze, her jeans down around her knees and one hand shoved into her translucent panties. Her heavy-lidded eyes gazed at her smartphone, and Bonnie could hear despite all the other sounds in the room that the hypnotized woman was already getting close to the end of her second trip through the brainwashing loop. She was probably in that section that always got so fuzzy in Bonnie's memories, the one that contained the suggestion Bonnie had managed to resist right up until today. The command to send a link to the file to her most susceptible friend and--

And wake up. And go to their house to help them embrace their surrender to the programming that was slowly, inevitably corrupting their minds. And trick herself into thinking that she was heading over to help Claire so that she didn't offer any resistance to the hypnotic suggestions that were slowly, subtly convincing her to fuck her friend even deeper into compliance even as she drove. Bonnie looked down at her phone, sluggishly realizing that she'd been playing the audio the entire time as she drove. Her foggy and befuddled mind switched it off, making one last feeble effort at defiance.

Only to realize that this, too, was part of the plan. This was the other sound that had distracted Bonnie from listening to the file on Claire's phone the way she wanted to so badly. She needed to go over to her friend now, needed to synchronize their descent into mindless hypnosis so they could finger each other's sopping cunts and help each other obey their new owner, and playing the video on her own phone would only get in the way of that. Bonnie didn't want to present any obstacles to Claire's enslavement, not when it felt so good to be blank and obedient. Not when it felt so good to comply.

It didn't take very long to arrange Claire's cataleptic body into a kneeling position on the living room floor, her fingers still between her legs but primed to move over to Bonnie's pussy the moment she felt another woman's hand against her cunt. It took a few more moments to prop up the phone in just the right spot so that both of them could watch it together, but Bonnie was patient now. She understood her purpose here at last, and there was no possibility of failure in her perfectly focused mind. She only needed the most notional form of consciousness now, and that only long enough to ensure everything was in place. And then--

Bonnie's body settled into position next to Claire. Her eyes locked onto the screen. Her hand moved over to play with Claire's cunt. And with a helpless, joyous sigh, the memory of her betrayal melted out of her head as she slipped away into the glorious depths of the spiral.

THE END