(Originally posted as a $5/month exclusive to my Sponsus on August 8, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and stories! As long as the Patreon stays over $100/story, I’ll post year-old captions here!)

It had all happened so fast.

She’d been out jogging on her usual route, clad in sports bra and leggings. As usual, she was streaming a podcast in her Bluetooth earpiece.

Then, suddenly, a strange burst of noise, right in her ear, and she collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She sprawled, one arm flopped against her face, the other lying useless in the grass of whatever suburban lawn she’d been jogging past.

Her not insubstantial chest heaved as she tried to fight the strange feeling of weight pressing in on her, but she couldn’t. The noise just kept going, and she just kept not moving.

A shadow fell over her. Someone had come out of the house she’d fallen in front of, and was now standing over her, looking down!

Help me, she thought desperately, unable even to speak.

“Stand up.” The voice came clearly, simultaneously from the figure above her, and the headset in her ear. There wasn’t any question of whether, she’d do it–she couldn’t! She had no control over her–

She was on her feet.

“Follow,” said the figure, and she did. She couldn’t not. She couldn’t do anything–but her body obeyed them no matter what she wanted.

“Don’t worry,” the voice said as it led her into the house. “Once I’ve run you through the machine, you can have control of your body back. I won’t need it then–I’ll have your mind.”

(Originally posted as a $2/story exclusive to my Patreon on May 15, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and stories! As long as the Patreon stays over $100/story, I’ll post year-old captions here!)

She knew what would happen if she put the headphones back on. It had taken every ounce of willpower she had just to push them off as she rolled out of the bed. She’d meant to just stand up and walk out, maybe find her clothes.

But she was just so horny. She’d tried to ignore it, but she just couldn’t–she needed to take care of it. Now.

But that hadn’t worked either. She’d tried her best but she just could not satisfy the cravings filling her, no matter what she did.

It was the headphones. She could, just barely, hear the fuzzy sound leaking from them. It was enough to keep her needy, keep her horny… which meant she could never be satisfied as long as they kept playing. She couldn’t finish until they did.

She could just walk out. She could leave. Surely, eventually, this would wear off? It was insane even to contemplate putting them back on just so she could get off, especially knowing she’d never be able to muster the willpower to escape again.

She had her hand on them. Maybe if she just brought them closer, so she could hear better, without actually putting them–

Her thoughts stopped as the sound grew closer. The headphones closed over her ears. A moment later, she got back into the bed.

(Originally posted as a $3/story exclusive to my Patreon on February 7, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and stories! As long as the Patreon stays over $100/story, I’ll post year-old captions here!)

“Shh!” she said. “I can hear it! Something buried in the… in the backing… track…”

She blinked furiously, ideas tumbling in her head. Strange fantasies of submission, surrender, obedience to…

The recording artist grinned as she slid her skirt off without even leaving her chair, still listening attentively to the musci, still visibly confused. “I’ve read so many stories about wicked sound engineers slipping in subliminals to control helpless, beautiful artists… I figured I should see if I could flip the script.”

She continued to stare as her mind was rearranged, reorganized, reprioritized. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t remove the headphones, couldn’t resist.

No, it wasn’t that she couldn’t do those things. It was that she couldn’t want to.

“You’re mine now,” said the artist, and all she could do was groan assent.

(Originally posted as a $2/story exclusive to my Patreon on February 1, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and stories! As long as the Patreon stays over $100/story, I’ll post year-old captions here!)

The moment she heard the strange tones coming from her phone, she knew what it was. She’d been on their trail for months, but they had somehow gotten to her first. She snatched her earbuds out of her ears immediately, of course, or tried to.

One of her hands didn’t respond at all. The other got as far as pulling the earbud out, but then stopped, holding it just a few inches from her ear. She could hear the weird tones–tones which had somehow replaced her favorite podcast–clearly.

She knew what they would do to her. What they had done to all those other women, including her client’s missing sister. If she didn’t stop listening, she would be caught like them, mind blank and ready for programming.

But she was already caught. Already the idea of being programmed sounded incredibly appealing. What could be hotter than having her mind emptied out and her personality rewritten into a perfect sex slave? Fantasies poured through her mind, distracting, beguiling, and oh so very arousing…

She hardly even noticed when she put the earbud back in. 

(Originally posted as a $3/story exclusive to my Patreon on January 17, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and stories! As long as the Patreon stays over $100/story, I’ll post year-old captions here!)

Everyone was raving over this new track, and she figured this fishing trip was as good a time as any to give it a listen. But from the moment it started playing in her headphones, she found she couldn’t stop listening to it, over and over, looping in her ears, in her head…

There was something in there, some secret she had to find. The more she listened, the more sure of that she became. Soon, she forgot about fishing entirely, dropped her rod, and just listened.

It was very important, she realized, to take a selfie and send it to a certain number. She didn’t know why, or where the number came from; she just knew she had to do it.

After that, it was simply a matter of waiting to be picked up.

She hadn’t been the only one fishing–and they’d just gotten the catch of the day.

(Originally posted as a $3/story exclusive to my Patreon on January 10, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and stories! As long as the Patreon stays over $100/story, I’ll post year-old captions here!)

As she removed the headphones, her eyes were locked on the recording engineer. She knew, somehow, that this was his doing. It was because of him that she could remember nothing from the moment she put on the headphones, not even when and how she removed her clothes.

Was that when she had started to find him so attractive? Started to feel so submissive? She couldn’t remember that, either.

But that was okay. He would tell her if she’d forgotten anything important.