There was something about the collar that made everything fuzzier. That made her breath quicken when she put it on, made her cunt drip with want, made her feel so so empty without a cock inside her.

She barely even remembered what happened when she was wearing it, just that she was happy and blissful. She didn’t know who the men fucking her were, just that they were good, using and abusing her just how she needed.

It was like she became a different person when she put it on. A better person. Someone who had had her mind scrubbed clean, undressed, and reprogrammed to know her true purpose, the uninhibited joy of being just a doll for men to enjoy. Blank and entranced.

But that was silly. She’d remember if someone had hypnotized her, right? Right. It was just natural that she felt that way. It was just natural that she wanted to put the collar on again.