They stopped needing the guards by the sixth day. They left them in place, of course; Seraphina DuMonde didn’t have a reputation as the most dangerous secret agent in the world for nothing. But she had long ago stopped paying attention to the door, long ago lost track of the guard’s routine or movements or even his existence. She had a pussy to play with. And teasing herself to the edge of orgasm seemed so much nicer than any thoughts of escape.
The first day, of course, she laughed at the idea of being ‘brainwashed into compliance’. The screen on the far wall with the spiral and the low, droning voice coming from the speakers? Pure spy movie fantasies. Nobody could be hypnotized against their will, and certainly nobody could be turned into… a horny, submissive fuckdoll? Really? She rolled her eyes, turned her back on the screen, and began searching for a way out.
By the second day, she caught herself staring into the spiral for long stretches at a time. There was simply nothing else to look at in the room–occasionally, a hatch would open up in the wall and a tray would slide out with some tasteless porridge in it, but everything was bolted down and once she’d finished eating (with her fingers) it would simply retract. She was alone with nothing but the spiral and the voice. Sooner or later, no matter how hard she tried, her eyes would find the spiral again, and then she would stare for a while longer. But it didn’t mean she was hypnotized by it.
By the third day, she was exhausted. It was so hard to sleep with the voice constantly purring little mantras of arousal and obedience into her ears, always in the same calm monotone. Just when Seraphina thought she’d blocked it out, it would get louder, breaking into her fitful doze and waking her back up again with thoughts of wet, obedient cunts seeping into her drowsy mind. She knew they were watching her, monitoring her vital signs and continually making sure she didn’t get enough to eat or sleep, but she couldn’t do anything except wait it out.
By the fourth day, she was masturbating. She knew that they were trying to use her own body against her, keeping her constantly groggy and aroused while they ‘brainwashed’ her, so she decided to use their techniques against them. If she could only make herself come, she wouldn’t be so turned on by the continuous lull of the sensuous voice coming from the speakers. Then she could concentrate, find a way out, perhaps fake them out by pretending to be hypnotized and submissive. She nodded absently to herself as she decided to stare directly into the spiral while she played with her pussy. It would lull them into a false sense of security.
By the fifth day, she still hadn’t come. It seemed like every time she got close, the spiral would slow down, the voice would soften, and the rhythm of Seraphina’s masturbation would slow and soften right along with it. Strangely, though, it wasn’t frustrating at all; bringing her body constantly to the edge of climax and leaving it there turned out to be inexplicably satisfying. She lost track of time, place, her thoughts and even her identity as she stared vacantly into the spiral and let her fingers swirl on her clit in perfect time to the instructions on the screen. Her sexuality felt so much more powerful when it was being controlled. Seraphina felt so much happier when she was being controlled. The spiral and the voice promised her that it would never have to end, not if she just kept opening herself up more and more to obedience.
By the sixth day, she forgot about escape. But they still gave it another month before they began to interrogate her. Just to be on the safe side.
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Sometimes you just need to read about a hot super-spy being brainwashed. Thanks, @jukeboxemcsa