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hiskillingjar · 6 months

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Genderbend (All/MC)

day 28: genderbend second person. cw for dubious consent (drunk sex) and some (reclaimed) slur use. also general heads up for a trans woman's junk being referred to as a cock. be cool.

love you lesbians xo

🥀

"Mmph,"

You groaned softly against Law's lips as she pressed her body close, her slim hips bucking down against yours while she was perched in your lap. Her long skirt rode up her long legs and around her (heavily scarred) thighs, a firm grip on your shoulders, as she kept your body still with her own, rutting together on top of her bed.

"Ahhnn..."

You had gone round to her apartment after group therapy, since she had been kind enough to invite you round. You understood, in a way. You had spilled something particularly difficult during circle talk, and you were feeling delicate for one reason or another, and...well, one thing had led to another, as they often tended to do with the two of you.

Law kissed the same way she spoke at therapy; not at all and then all at once, her hungry mouth pressing down against yours and her probing tongue running over your parted lips as she inched closer, like she was desperate to have you, desperate to claim every inch of you as her own.

You kind of liked that.

You'd always had kind of a thing for possessive girls, after all.

"Is this okay?" She murmured hotly against your lips, running the (bumped) bridge of her nose against yours as her blonde brows furrowed beneath her bangs, just slightly, worry clear on her pretty face. "I mean, I know group was...hard for you today. You said something pretty intense, so I just wanted to be sure-"

"Yes, Law, everything is fine," You interrupted her, curtly enough that she pulled back from the kiss, her face flushed and her kiss-bitten lips parting with a little surprise. "I mean...ah, sorry, I just don't need to talk about it, especially not right now and...you know, not with you. You know how it is..."

"Yeah," She nodded, reaching up to gently sweep a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear (her nails were painted black like yours were), nibbling her lip shyly. "Yeah, don't worry, I know what you mean...I won't mention it again."

"Thank you," You replied with a slightly uneasy smile, wiping your wet lips with the back of your hand as you slid your palm down her back to pull her in closer, enjoying her comforting warmth against you. "But, ah...do you think we can change this over?"

"Hm?" She blinked her doe-grey eyes down at you, her expression curious despite how much her body trembled under your touch. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," You murmured into her shoulder, peering at where her laptop was perched on her desk, playing a video. "Jeez, Law, did you have to put on one of your websites again? This is...kind of distracting..."

Maybe you wouldn't have minded if she was playing something random, a romance movie or a bad porno, something to set the mood and to get the two of you hot and bothered.

But...

Law's watching habits were a little, uh...unhealthy to say the least.

You had tried to pretend the 'Best Gore' compilation she watched every time you were around, the times when the two of you would smoke yourselves silly and fuck all night long, was just footage from a particularly graphic horror movie, things you were acquainted with and enjoyed plenty, but...

You couldn't pretend every time.

You took a guess that this clip was someone getting hit by a car. Not the worst you'd seen, there was barely any blood and no audio, but still...it was just dehumanising and repulsive all the same, seeing someone die on screen.

"It's...it's not that bad," She replied, though her cheeks were flushed a little darker like she had been caught doing something that she shouldn't have. You had a sense that she was self-conscious about this habit of hers, but evidently not enough to actually stop it. "Really, there's...a lot worse out there. This is a pretty tame one."

"I don't like that you said that," You mumbled, pressing your face into her shoulder, doing your best to not look at the screen as your hands slipped from her back and down to her hips, doing your best to still her as she moved. “I don’t like that there’s tame and…like, extreme to you. You shouldn’t watch this stuff.”

Your hands evidently did nothing to stop her since she groaned softly, rocking her hips down against yours and giving away instantly how excited she was. You would have been turned on, maybe even desperately, if your eyes didn't keep flitting to her laptop screen with a little frown.

"And it's really grossing me out," In your peripheral vision, you saw the next clip start to play; the grating teeth of a saw cutting through a living subject, a war injury, you assumed, while the guy screamed bloody murder. You instantly pressed your face a little harder into her skin and clung to her tight. "And killing the mood, ya know."

"Come on," She whispered, her low voice a gentle coo (almost maternal, if you wanted to get even more fucked up and Freudian and god, if she wanted you to call her 'mommy', you just might have), as she stroked through your hair and pressed closer too, letting her legs spread even more so that her skirt had ridden up completely, exposing the tight waistband of her tights, the straining gusset of her dark boyshorts underneath, the hard line of her cock. "It's just...how life is, you know? Sometimes, it's good to see death to make you appreciate how good you have it."

"Okay, John Kramer," You said with an uncomfortable laugh, though you could tell that she didn't get your joke when she kept going, taking one of your hands from her hips and guiding it up to her chest. Her small breast filled your palm nicely when you pushed your hand past her low-cut shirt and into the cup of her bralette, and she clearly enjoyed it when you touched her cool skin, since she was still moaning. "C'mon, Law, let's watch a porno or something. I wanna get in the mood for when you fuck me..."

"I don't want to watch porn. I don't like porn." Lawrence murmured with a little pout, shifting in your lap and reaching up to unbutton her shirt and slide it down her shoulders exposing her skimpy bralette and pale, freckled shoulders and chest, before placing her hands between your legs and unzipping your jeans. "Besides...you like horror movies, don't you? Just…think of this like one of those."

Once your jeans were open, her hand moved up to your stomach and slipped inside your underwear.

"Ahhhn..." You moaned as she pressed her fingers into your panties, shivering a little more as you held her tight and shifted your hips upwards, trying to urge her to press even deeper, feel the wetness of your cunt. "Law, please..."

"You know you like it," Her lips brushed against your ear in a gentle kiss, her voice going quieter than before as her fingers brushed up against each nerve inside you, relishing in your slick wetness. "Well, I know you do, anyway...and that's probably all that matters."

🦊

"Oh, shit!"

You dashed out of the open doorway of the convention's midnight rave at the familiar sound of retching, running to the aid of the familiar girl who was hunched over in an alley by herself, fighting through your own intoxication and inebriation to help someone in need.

"Ohmigod, Ren, are you okay?" You said, kneeling behind her and rubbing a hand up and down her back, the silk of her cheap cosplay outfit smooth on your palm. "I'm soooo sorry I lost you at the rave, did you drink too much?"

"H-Huh?"

Ren glanced back at you over her shoulder, her short hair poking out under her wig, she was so disheveled, and vomit streaked down her chin, messing up her make-up.

"Mph...y-yeah, I drank a little," She murmured with a heavy sigh, evidently fighting to keep in what little contents were still in her stomach, reaching up to wipe her teary eyes (and staining her gloves as she did so). "Guys kept buying me drinks while I was standing at the bar waiting for you too. Totally gross." She stuck her tongue out with a frown, letting her heavy head rest back against the brick wall of the alleyway. "H-How about you, are you drunk too?"

"Mmhmm," You said with a bashful smile, sitting down with her on the wet cement floor and rubbing her back encouragingly, trying to help her stomach settle. "I didn't get bought drinks though, so I'm not puking my guts out like you are."

"Mm, I'm not surprised," She replied with a tipsy, little giggle, letting her head rest on your shoulder as she curled up close, her tail grazing your ankles as it curled around you. "Like, I do look pretty cute. I think I deserve more attention because of that."

"Lower that ego, honey," You chuckled with a roll of your eyes, nuzzling your face against the shiny plastic crown of her wig, giving it a light tug. "Or don't...that confidence might actually have been pretty sexy if you weren't covered in vomit."

"Well, you're pretty sexy, too." She said, pressing her sweaty face up against your neck, scenting you, enjoying you as her tail began to wag more. "I think the nerdy guys didn't hit on you, because they were intimidated by how hot you are in this outfit. Not like I blame them, either."

"Oh yeah?" You said with a raised brow and a slight smirk, letting your hand drift down her neck, toying with the stiff collar of her blouse, down her slim shoulder. "You like my outfit, Ren?"

"Mmm, you know it." She purred (despite how much her voice was still slurring from intoxication), rubbing her nose against your neck as her own hands drifted down your front, feeling your soft chest while her golden eyes flitted up and down your face, landing on your lips. "I don't think I could keep my hands off you..."

You tilted your head, your smirk growing a little broader.

"Maybe you shouldn't keep your hands off of me then..." You suggested, leaning in a little closer, running your lips off of hers. "If you want to, of course."

Ren gave your collar a playful tug with a sharp-toothed grin, her fangs grazing over yours, before she placed a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a close kiss. Your body was supple and pliable in her hands, and you groaned softly into the kiss, pressing closer to her as she gripped the collar a little tighter, pinning your lips against hers, asserting her control, her dominance, even when she was drunk.

"Mine," She whispered against your lips, continuing to run kisses across your face and down your exposed neck, her hands roving over your body, feeling your skin beneath the cheap cosplay. Her breath was hot and warm on your throat and made you shiver. "Mine..."

“Possessive,” You murmured, chasing after another kiss as you threaded your arms around her neck, keeping her close. “And you taste like vomit.”

She giggled softly, her hands running further down your body, over the tight elastic of your thigh-high stocking and to the soft flesh spilling over the top.

"I think you taste worse." She pressed her mouth further down your neck, digging her nails into your thighs and letting her fingers slip up a little further, against the slowly soaking gusset of your panties beneath your skirt. “I’m gonna get a better taste, I think…”

Before you could stop her, she sank down onto her knees, the wet damp of the cement floor soaking into her own thigh highs, nestling her face beneath your skirt and cheap petticoat, and ran her tongue over the front of your panties, doing her best to get a taste of you.

You shrieked with delight at the action, letting your fingers curl into the cheap fibers of her wig and pull her even closer, rutting your hips down against her face, her tongue.

"Hm, I thought so." She teased, pulling back to breathe hotly against your cunt, your trembling thighs, pressing a harsh bite against the soft flesh. "Maybe I'll get the chance to do even more if I can drag you somewhere... quieter,” She cut herself off by pressing another bite left into your thigh, sure to bruise. “More private. So I can have you like I want you.”

"Why do you wanna do that?" You asked softly, a slight pout to your lips as you reached your fingers into the netting of her wig and tried to pull her in closer. "Whyyyy, Ren?~"

"I think you're cute when you're a little tipsy." She whispered with a teasing grin, pressing another hungry kiss against the front of your panties, her trembling hands on your thighs as they flinched at the action, making you moan. "That's why."

“Ngh, god,” You moaned, biting your lips as your hips shifted forward a little more, your heeled boots doing nothing to support your body as you slid slowly against the cement and the rough brick wall. “Ren, we’re both drunk, we shouldn’t…hah…”

“I don’t care about that, and neither do you.” She chided, almost condescendingly, and it was enough to make you blush (even if she was a lot drunker than you). “I want to have fun with you, you know that." She pressed another hot kiss against your panties, one hand reaching forward to tug at the sodden gusset and tug them to the side of your puffy labia. “And I’m going to have fun…and you’re going to, too, if you play along with me.”

She ran her tongue over the hot slit of your cunt, her golden eyes going hazy at your taste, at the sound of your hungry moan, at the feel of your fingers pushing her wig aside and fist into her hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” You moaned loudly, your head falling backward. “I’ll play along, I will.”

🔨

"Alright, let me just get the door."

Strade's voice was cheerful behind you, cutting through the haze of drunkenness on your mind as she took a set of house keys from a carabiner attached to her belt loop, giving it an idle twirl around her finger before she slotted it into the front door of her house.

"You'll have to forgive me if the place is a bit of a mess," She mused with a hum, opening the door (and clipping the keys back to her belt) and running a hand through her short brown hair, before placing her hands on her full hips. "I've always been lousy at keeping a house. So much for gender roles, right?

You laughed a little uncomfortably as she gave you a playful nudge in the side with her elbow. She was a little shorter than you, but she still managed to make you nervous, which you're certain you would have been, even if you weren't a little drunk.

"Y-Yeah," You muttered, pushing your hair out of your face with a shaking hand as you followed her inside the house. "Um, do you think I can have some water or something? I'm feeling kind of nauseous."

"Sure thing, buddy." She said with an easy smile and a slight nod of her head. "Go sit down and I'll get you something to drink. Just relax, and I'll take good care of you"

Strade leaves you to it, making her way through the dark house and turning on the kitchen light at your side, still humming to herself, comfortable in the face of your obvious discomfort.

You let out a quiet sigh as you shambled into the living room of the house, noticing, even in the dark, a fairly tidy space, albeit one that had nowhere near the amount of personality that Strade seemed to have. Either way, you didn't let yourself worry too much about it as you sat down on the couch, resting your hands in your lap and letting your head droop down and your hair cover your face again, to stop it from spinning too much.

You were really drunk. You couldn't remember how much you drank at the bar, but surely, not enough to feel like this.

You sighed again, covering your mouth as you began to feel queasy, a little worried that you might be sick before you reached back to your back pocket to get your phone, to shoot a text to your housemate so she knew you were okay, and maybe call an Uber to pick you up, hiked fare be damned.

Strade had been nice enough to look after you at the bar and take you home, but you really didn't want to be more of a nuisance to her than you already had been.

She was really way too nice.

"Drink up."

You flinched at the sound of Strade's voice in the silence of the house, glancing over your shoulder as she paced into the living room with a glass of water for you. You stopped feeling around for your phone when you couldn't immediately find it and gave her an appreciative smile.

"You're looking pretty rough," She teased with a little smirk, passing you the glass and sitting at your side, crossing her legs, a heavy army boot on her knee, and leaning back into the couch, a thick arm almost draping over your shoulder. "If you puke on my carpet, I'm gonna be pretty annoyed."

"I won't puke," You murmured around the rim of the glass after a long swallow of water, giving your head a quick shake, to which she laughed and reached over to pat your back and rub your shoulder. "Um, did you see my phone in your car, by the way? I can't...seem to find it."

"Hm?" She raised a dark brow in your direction before she let out another chuckle, her golden eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah, you mean this one?"

She took the phone from one of her front pockets, giving it a little wave as she held it up for you to see. The screen was black, which you could only interpret as it being dead.

"Mmhmm, thank you," You nodded, leaning forward to take the phone, and blinking curiously when she held it out of your reach with a teasing chuckle.

"What'll you give me for it?" She asked, her voice taking on a lower, slightly more sultry tone, distinctly different from the bright and cheerful voice you heard in the bar, enough to make you blush and flounder.

"Um...S-Strade, I'm pretty drunk," You said with an uncomfortable chuckle. "It wouldn't be right for us to...do something."

"Mm, you were the one who was thinking it though," She laughed, placing the phone down on her side of the couch, before moving in a little closer and placing a firm hand on your thigh. "Come on. I won't tell if you don't. It can be our little secret, hm?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes flitting down to her hand on your thigh, as her fingers toyed with one of the ladders in your tights and felt your hot skin.

"I don't...think this is a good idea," You murmured again, holding the glass a little tighter, your hands shaking.

"So don't think," She said. "Just do."

You couldn't hold back a cry as she reached up to tangle her fingers into your hair roughly, pulling your head down to her broad thigh (making you drop your glass in the process) as her other hand reached up to unzip her trousers and wrestle them down her spread legs.

You were too drunk to really fight back as she pulled your head upwards and forced your face against the front of her underwear (she was wearing boxers, to your surprise), and your body was totally slack as she gradually began to buck her hips up against your face, a long groan on her lips as she bit her lips, her eyes open and feral and hungry.

"You know, I said I'd be annoyed if you puked on my carpet," She started, her voice a little more rasped as she reached up to pull at the waistband of her boxers. "But, ah...I guess I wouldn't care too much." She let out a dirty chuckle, as she pulled one leg from her trousers and boxers and raised it high, resting it on the back of the couch, spreading herself out for you. "As long as you cleaned up your mess."

Your mouth went dry as you looked at her, her thick legs spread, her cunt so wet that it was making the dark, matted hair that covered it and her inner thighs shine in the low light of the living room.

Had she been this turned on when she was just speaking to you at the bar?

Or was it having you in her house, vulnerable, waiting to be taken?

You were too drunk to really consent to any of this, but you wouldn't have gone home with an older woman if you hadn't been hammered. Did the matter of consent really matter that much?

You didn't think so, not now, and clearly, Strade thought the same way.

"Go on," She said, gripping a thicker chunk of your hair and urging your face down to the hot heat of her spread cunt. "Eat my pussy like I know you want to."

You did as you were told, lowering your head to run your tongue over her slit, tasting the thick musk of pre-cum and sweat and hair, and everything.

Strade groaned through her teeth, low at the back of her throat, gripping your hair more tightly as she shifted her hips upwards to feel your tongue even deeper, your nose bumping against her erect clit and giving her a little more stimulation.

"Are you sure you're not a dyke?" She asked with another rough chuckle, as her spread leg hooked around your neck and pulled you closer towards her, tethering you and keeping you still. "Or have you just done this a few times before?"

You groaned softly at the slur, her rough voice and language, and the new tightness around your neck as you managed to run your tongue over the damp hairs of her cunt and circle it towards her clit, wanting to please her and to offer yourself a little relief at the same time.

"I'm gonna keep you here tonight," She crooned, rubbing her fingers against your scalp, bucking her hips against your mouth with such ferocity, that you were almost worried that she might break your nose. "I've got a cock upstairs with your name on it...mm, maybe something else too, I can get as rough as you want, baby."

"Mmph," You moaned, your eyes fluttering as your arousal gradually began to supersede your intoxication, and you grew more desperate for her approval. "S-Strade, please..."

"What's that, fraulein ?" Her voice was a surprisingly seductive purr, her thick accent growing thicker when she used her native language. "You want me to fuck you? You wanna take my strap-on like the good, little dog that I know you are? Is that it?~"

You really should have ordered that Uber.

"Please.”

#lawrence x mc #lawrence x reader #ren x mc #ren x reader #strade x mc #strade x reader #lawrence oleander #lawrence btd #ren hana #ren btd #strade btd #slurs cw #kinktober 2023 #one of the faves

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hiskillingjar · 6 months

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Mind Control (Fox/MC)

day 30: mind control second person mostly. cw for noncon (coerced consent) and typical fox nastiness

The lamp light was blinding, an inhumane kind of bright shining high above you, when the burlap sack was yanked roughly from your head and your eyes were forced up to the new source of light.

When you took in an involuntary hiss and tried to cover your aching sockets to relieve yourself of the strain, you found that you couldn't move. A pair of metal cuffs kept you bound down to the folding chair you were sitting on, and what's more, you were totally naked, your skin ice cold and goose-pimpled against the freezing metal

A single camera sat in front of you, the red recording light flashing, watching, an invisible audience waiting to see how you would react, how you would squirm, how you would struggle.

Your mouth went dry as you gave your cuffs a hard yank, shivering at the presence of an unknown and unseen observer who had all the power in this situation, when you had absolutely none.

"What's going on?" You mumbled, still blinking up at the lamp light, before your eyes went back to the camera frantically, a plea for whoever could see you. "Please, someone tell me what's going on."

As you continued to struggle in your bondage, the person who had (presumably) yanked the sack from your head paced in front of you.

It wasn't anyone you recognized, in fact, you had no opportunity to see their face at all as it was covered by what looked like a motorcycle helmet, the shiny material shielding their eyes reflecting back the lamp light and your naked, bound body, making you feel that much more alone and terrified in the strange room.

The only slightly distinguishing feature to be seen of them, in fact, was a wagging fox tail, happy and even excited at the sight of you.

You gulped nervously, looking from the stranger (and their wagging tail) to the camera before you gathered the nerve to speak again.

"What's going on?" You said again nervously, shivering a little more when the stranger cocked their head at the sound of your voice. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"You think you have the privilege of knowing?"

You flinched when the stranger spoke, their voice tinny and metallic through a voice modulator, but, despite the distortion, their voice instantly gave away an amused expression, their intrigue, and their excitement.

"Please..." You gulped again, a harsh shiver ripping through your body as they continued to stare, taking a step closer to you, intimidating you in stature alone (despite how short they were). "I don't understand..."

"Oh, you don't understand? How cute," Their tail wagged a little more frantically, as they took another step closer to you, the gaze of their unseen eyes heavy on your shoulders, your chest, so much so that you were scared stiff against the cold, metal chair. A mean chuckle crackled through the modulator, tinny and inhuman. "Understanding is for those in the position of power to. Thinking too." They let out another tinny chuckle, one that sent shivers down your spine as you continued to struggle against the cuffs. "But, perhaps it's time for you to learn that, hm?"

"Please, I don't-" You flinched again as they took one last step closer to you, bringing their face close to yours, close enough that you could barely see their eyes through thick, tinted plastic. They were smiling. "I really, really don't understand what's going on..."

"No, you don't," They said stoically, tilting their head again. "You're a pretty thing, you know that?"

A pause, one that let that last phrase sink in.

"Pretty things don't get to decide what happens to them. And they don't get to think, either."

"Wait, wait, don't- NNGH!"

You grit your teeth to hold back a shrill cry as another set of hands clamped on both sides of your head, strong, gloved fingers painfully pressing against your pounding temples and forcing your eyes forward, past the masked figure, and back toward the camera and...a TV screen?

Why hadn't you noticed that before?

You strained your neck against the vice-like grip of the other person to follow them as the masked figure paced behind you, out of your (now limited) vision, though your attention was quickly grabbed again as the television screen turned on.

A quick glance at the screen confirmed...that it was you.

A live stream was playing of you, naked and vulnerable and tied to the chair, ready for the taking, with the strange person sitting comfortably behind you while the other kept your head facing forward. Both of them were wearing helmets, and the one keeping you still appeared to have a gun or...a weapon of some sort at their hip, making you feel that much more powerless. Hundreds upon hundreds of viewers seemed to be watching the stream, and a near-unreadable chat feature was running alongside it and updating nearly every second.

Your stomach turned.

"What the fuck?" You stammered, your eyes growing wide as you stared at the camera, trying desperately hard to shake your head out of the stranger's grasp, though to no avail. "What the fuck is going on?! Who are you people?!"

The grip on your head from behind only got tighter as your protests went unheard, your desperate questions ignored. On the screen, you could see the chat feature was suddenly going wild, the words flying by in a blur.

"They're a cutie! <3"

"Look at them, all helpless and bound, it's getting me soooo hard lmao"

"I wonder how they'll take conditioning :3"

Even though you could barely read the words on the screen, you suddenly felt your blood run ice cold and your heart begin to beat wildly in your chest, as your struggling gradually relented and you found your body going slack against your seat.

Nobody was coming to save you.

You were helpless, in the truest sense of the word.

"Sir," The other voice, who had previously been holding your skull forward but had now (temporarily) stopped, spoke, their voice deep and authoritative, despite their clear servitude to the other stranger, and stepped forward toward the television screen, clicking the buttons on the side of it. "If you're ready, we can begin. Is your helmet in place?"

"Yes, yes," The tinny voice spoke up again, sounding almost impatient and annoyed. You noticed them idly flap their wrist. "Everything is fine. Let's begin."

The other voice grunted their approval before switching off the live feed and turning the television onto a strange new screen filled with grey static, the low buzz of it echoing through the small room and filling it with noise.

You were scared, because of course, you were scared, but more than that, you were now confused. What on earth were they planning to do with VHS static and white noise?

Despite your confusion and, indeed, your fear, you found that you were suddenly completely unable to look away from the screen...nor did you really want to now.

It was just so comforting, peaceful almost, especially compared to the live stream you had seen before and just how scared that had made you.

The static made you feel...safe, in a strange way. Like a blanket of warmth had been placed on your shoulders and was there to assure that you would be okay, as long as you stayed calm and...compliant.

After a few minutes of the hazy static, the buzz filling your brain and drowning out the other sensations, the painful cold metal under your rear, and the metal cuffs starting to bite into your wrists and make them bleed, a few words started to show up through the static, as clear as day, practically audible in your brain, like they were being projected from a speaker or a megaphone.

You want to obey.

You want to serve.

You want to be a good girl.

You felt your throat go dry and you swallowed hard, giving your head a quick shake to try and shake the words out of your head, but you kept watching, kept listening to the words that you could barely see, as the phrases remained on screen through the static.

You love to obey.

You love to serve.

You love to be a good girl.

The more you watched the screen, the more you felt your mind start to go blank as the message repeated over and over again, the white noise from the television still droning at a painful volume directly into your ears, growing all the more sensitive and overstimulated as you yanked at your cuffs and began to struggle again.

You tried to shake your head and look away from the screen, trying to shield your eyes and ears from the droning buzz of static, but as soon as you tried, the hands were back at your temples, squeezing tight and keeping your eyes glued on the screen.

You heard the voices whisper something behind you, heard a tinny chuckle (presumably at your helpless predicament) from the person orchestrating this whole thing, but the white noise from the television was too loud, too great for you to make out their words properly. Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching as the phrases repeated over and over again.

You've always wanted to obey.

You've always wanted to serve.

You've always wanted to be a good girl who does what she's told.

"Mmf..."

You weren't sure how long went by before your head started to feel heavier and heavier as the words repeated, again and again, growing louder and louder through the static before it felt like it was the only thing in your brain, replacing everything else, all thoughts, all worries, all fears.

Gradually, the urge to 'obey, serve, be a good girl' became the only thing that mattered and the only words in your brain that you could hear, as the white noise and the message continued to play before your helpless eyes.

You want to obey.

You want to serve.

You want to be a good girl.

It was terrifying how helpless you were at that moment, so much so that you wanted to scream, to thrash, to fight back against your captors. You could feel your free will and thoughts slipping away, your brain fogging up, like hot breath on a cold glass, the more you watched the screen, unable to tear your eyes away even if you had the chance to.

You tried to resist it, to fight against it, but the message continued to play despite how much you were fighting against it, continued to play and echo loudly over your own thoughts, over everything else that could have mattered.

Like your thoughts were fighting through a haze of white mist, begging to be heard, and they were losing.

You love to obey.

You love to serve.

You love to be a good girl.

"Nnnf..."

You didn't, couldn't even try to close your mouth as you began to drool mindlessly all over yourself, down your chin, down your chest, nor did you, or could you try to press your thighs together to hide just how wet you were, so much so that it was practically pooling down your thighs, against the metal chair, showing off just how little control you had left of your body and how much you were enjoying that lack of control.

The few facets of your brain that remained wondered how the chat was reacting to such a provocative display. The same facets were also screaming at you for not putting up more of a fight, in spite of their dark humour.

You've always wanted to obey.

You've always wanted to serve.

You've always wanted to be a good girl who does what she's told.

It could have been minutes, hours, days of the haze of static, the words being pounded into your brain...not like any of that mattered to you anymore, though.

The passage of time, the rest of the world, any sense of shame or embarrassment or discomfort. None of that mattered. There was nothing else to you now, nothing at all but the message, the white noise filling your mind, and the drooling, wet mess that was left of you to be ogled at in front of the camera.

Nothing but the message, nothing but the need to obey.

All else was gone and faded into the mist of blissful thoughtlessness.

You didn't think, you didn't consider, you didn't try to hide yourself or shy away from the lesson that had been so thoughtfully gifted to you.

You just waited. Waited for the next message. Waited for the command to obey, to serve, to be a good girl.

Was this what you wanted?

You couldn't tell the difference between what you wanted and what you were being told...not anymore, not when your mind was nothing more than white noise and those words.

Obey.

Serve.

Be a good girl.

That message...that was all you were, it was all you wanted to be, it was all you needed to be.

Obey.

Serve.

Be a good girl.

You just wanted to obey.

You just wanted to follow the words on the screen and the voice in your head telling you what to do. It was so peaceful, so relaxing to not be burdened by your thoughts and fears.

You had no words of your own now, and you were thankful for that.

Obey.

Serve.

Be a good girl.

You were so thankful that there was nothing of you left, but a dull, blank thoughtless stare, empty as it stared forward, drooling, desperate for orders and to do as you were told.

You were whatever they wanted you to be now, whatever your new owner wanted from you.

This...this was what you wanted.

Serve.

This was what you wanted!!

Serve.

This was what you wanted!!!

Serve.

thisiswhatyouwantedthisiswhatyouwantedthisiswhatyouwantedthisiswhatyouwantedthisiswhatyouwantedthisiswhatyouwanted

Serve.

"I think this one went down quicker than usual," The henchman noted with a touch of amusement to their voice. They took a step closer to the new subject and waved a hand in front of their empty eyes, trying to alert their attention, satisfied when they didn't even react. "It's kind of cute. Their new master will be happy."

"Now, let's not be too hasty," Fox said quickly, standing beside the other body, considering the subject further with a hidden grin, his tail wagging frantically. "No point in giving away such...poor quality stock, if they went down too quickly. I don't want that reflecting poorly on me, of course."

He tilted his head again, his eyes hungrily taking the thick strings of spittle and drool covering the subject's chin and ample chest (making it slick and shiny), the pool of pre-cum between their legs.

He licked his jaws. It was truly a delicious sight. And Fox was growing hungry.

"Maybe...I'll just keep this one for myself, for the time being at least."

"Hmph...if you say so, boss." The henchman conceded with a shrug. They weren't going to argue against Fox. They knew better than that. "Should I turn off the video then?"

"No, no...let's keep it running for the time being. Just to be sure," Fox replied with a mean chuckle, his hands clasped behind his back. "Besides, I promised my fans a lengthy conditioning session, and I'd feel awful if I cut it short. Yes, yes, let's keep it running for...oh, two more hours?"

The subject didn't even react as the two bodies stood and spoke in front of them, once wild and fierce eyes dull and lifeless, with all joy having fled from their expression the moment they had been broken down properly.

Now, all that remained was obedience to their master's word, a will to serve and be a good girl, just as they had been told to.

"There's just something a lot more fun about breaking someone down completely mentally, not just physically. A body can put up with an awful lot before it stops, a brain is a little more...delicate." Fox then added, taking a step closer to the subject and taking their (spit-covered) chin in a gloved hand, tilting his head forward as he admired their dead eyes, their full, parted lips, their drooling mouth still pooling down their chest.

"These sick fucks love nothing more than to watch every thought drain out of a pretty thing like this one...not like I can say anything on that, though. I love it too."

He grinned and let go of their chin again, satisfied that this one had been broken down, adequately, into a beautiful, totally mindless tool and toy for everything that he could possibly want.

"See you in two hours, sweetie," Fox crooned sweetly, pressing the front of their helmet to the subject's forehead in a mocking kiss, smiling even more broadly when they didn't react. "Try to enjoy the anticipation of your new life~”

#fox tpof #ren hana #ren x mc #ren x reader #fox x mc #fox x reader #kinktober 2023 #one of the faves #i'll be real with you guys i might have gotten hard writing this one #making up for my lack of fox fic updates. enjoy

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