Every time, it happened faster. Lisa would enter the ‘brainwashing chamber’ (she couldn’t even think of it as the guest bathroom anymore – even in the privacy of her own mind, its only purpose was to enslave her deeper) and leaned back against the dildo suction-cupped to the wall. And as she turned on the tablet and began to rock, back and forth, she saw the woman on the webcam fuck herself into mindless oblivion.

She would stare into her own eyes, locked helplessly on her mirrored gaze as the pleasure briefly caused her face to contort into a spasm of overwhelming pleasure… and then smoothly, easily, she would watch her expression soften into blank, blissful obedience. Her jaw would go slack, drool gathering at the corners of her lips and trickling down her chin as her awareness focused on another kind of wetness. She would approach her first climax and slowly, reflexively slow down just enough to keep her mind churning on the edge of release. She was here to be brainwashed, not to cum. Her Master would decide when she came. Lisa didn’t need to make decisions like that anymore.

Her eyes would go wider and wider, her mouth hanging open in astonishment at the totality of her own surrender. She would stare in utter awe at the woman on the screen – that Lisa looked so deeply hypnotized, so helplessly brainwashed that Lisa couldn’t possibly deny the reality of her submission to Master’s will. Every time she saw the brainwashed Lisa, the staring Lisa would feel a little bit more of her brain smoothed away into peace and pleasure. Sometimes those bits would come back when she woke. More and more, they didn’t. Lisa felt so happy about that.

She would hear her Master’s voice, a different program every time but always the same programmer. The words always sank in to her pleasure-drugged mind, but every time they sank in a little bit deeper, a little bit faster. The ritual of brainwashing conditioned her to go further and faster into her passive, compliant state and let Master’s will and the endless, relentless fucking turn her more and more into the mindless slave she knew she wanted to be.

Eventually, the valleys between each near-climax filled up with pleasure until her mind was a perpetual void of endless bliss. She was so saturated with ecstasy that she stopped thinking about the rhythm her hips kept automatically, stopped thinking about the words seeping into her drugged and sleepy brain, stopped thinking about anything but those eyes. They were perfectly blank, completely empty, totally glassy and vacant. The eyes of a perfect obedient slave girl. Lisa wished she could look like that some day. She wanted to be the girl on the screen. She wanted those eyes to be hers.

That was always the final trigger, the last piece to Master’s brainwashing that shut down Lisa’s mind completely and left her totally open to his programming. And every time, she reached that point a little bit faster, a little bit easier as her brain etched the pattern of compliance deeper and deeper with every repetition of her sessions in the brainwashing chamber. Every time, Lisa would wish that she was the girl on the screen, the empty and malleable fucktoy for Master… and every time, she would have that last, blissful revelation that absolutely blanked her brain clean out.

She was.

That was when she stopped thinking. And that was when the real brainwashing began.

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