Debbie sat at table #14, nervously folding and unfolding an old sheet of notebook paper she'd stashed away ten years ago, stopping sometimes to read the sketchy contents of the page.

'I'm going to do it. I will. I will. I'm going through with it,' she repeatedly told herself, building her resolve. She'd started preparations for this night a decade ago, when she was younger, less careful, and constantly horny. The very first step was actually taken well before that week when she, her best friend Misty, and then-boyfriend Joe went on that overnight field trip at the end of their senior year... much before that trip, in fact. Continuing to fidget with the piece of paper, she delved into her memories and relived how her life changed before she was even a teenager.

Esmeralda Connings, Debbie Hatcher's grandmother, was a rather famous (for her day) stage hypnotist. Debbie was twelve years old when she first met her very wealthy grandmother, and when she had spoken a few words of greeting to the elderly woman, she noticed her grandma's eyes light up slightly. In one day, Esmeralda had convinced Debbie's mother and father to let Debbie spend the summer with her.

It took her all night long to convince Simon, Debbie's dad—and the argument must have been harsh indeed, because even to this day Debbie could remember the screaming and pounding on her grandma's bedroom wall that went on all night; it even sounded like they were tearing the room apart! During the fight, when Esmeralda's strange and incoherent screams were particularly loud, Debbie's mother gently reassured her daughter and told her that everything would be alright.

By the end of the summer, Debbie would agree. She had a tone of voice that her grandmother noticed right away, and with a little instruction and a lot of practice on the people in her grandma's neighborhood, she figured out how to do more with hypnosis than most Freudian hypnotherapists ever dreamed possible. Within a week of moving home, she had both parents wrapped around her finger, and she got nearly everything she wanted.

Nearly.

There was one small thing she was too nervous, too self-conscious to get.

Sex.

When she started getting really interested in boys, she initially thought she had it made. Debbie was very pretty and her chest was well-developed, even as a teenager—at 15, she graduated to a D-cup bra, something she was very proud of. Her face was free of blemishes, her skin was creamy, her eyes dark and piercing... and her ass was to die for, if you could look all the way up her very long legs to find it.

But, there was a problem. As much as she loved watching the boys, looking at their asses, and imagining what their cocks would feel like in her hands, in her mouth, in her pussy—and even at that age, she wondered what they'd feel like in her ass—she could not deny her growing confusion, a confusion that reared its head at the end of every gym class when the girls were all naked and showering. She thought the girls were just as hot.

One time, in fact, she faked a stumble so she could grasp the breasts of Cindy, a cheerleader who was the prettiest girl in her gym class. She had to leave her next class early to frig off in the bathroom just from the memory! And, with one hand fiercely massaging her clit and the other under her bra and twisting her right nipple hard, she started to build a fantasy that involved her, a hot boy, and a hot chick.

She'd started dating the son of her father's friend after a surprisingly successful blind date. His name was Joe, and he was unaware of how good he looked—or if he was aware, he was much too shy to use his looks to his advantage. Debbie had found the shyness pretty cute for such a hot boy, and a series of movies, dinners, kisses, and even a few awkward minutes of "heavy petting" followed over the summer between her sophomore and junior years at high school.

Because he was so nervous one night when they were necking in his car, she offered to help relax him with her well-practiced techniques. That night, she somewhat-entranced boy became a man. In a flash of inspiration, she had kept him from climaxing until she was good and ready—and two hours of fucking later, she was satisfied enough to let him get off.

Debbie repeated this several times, working and tinkering with her boyfriend's mind. As she did, she realized that she wanted her, Joe, and her best friend Misty to have a threesome. That presented a few major problems, though: Misty hated Joe, Joe hated Misty, and Misty was straight.

As the mid-terms for her senior year's classes approached, she and Misty were studying nightly. Finally, when Misty was talking about just winging it on the tests, Debbie got her opportunity to get inside Misty's mind and root around. With the door to Misty's room locked for privacy, she began the process.

An hour later, she was rubbing her pussy into the face of her best friend, smearing Misty's makeup and bringing herself to a quick (albeit quiet, as Misty's parents were in the house) orgasm. While Misty was in the alternate personality Debbie had made for her ("Bislut," she called it), she was a very horny and active lover... even if she didn't remember any of it when she woke up.

Suddenly, the song changed, and Stone Temple Pilots' "Plush" started playing, snapping Debbie back to reality. Debbie looked down at the words on the paper, carefully going over her notes from the old days at Kackenburg High when she first started to use her abilities to get sex.

"I can't believe I used those words as triggers," Debbie said out loud. She had the scenario already set up in her mind—that had been done ten years ago—and now, she even had a room set up in the hotel this ten year high school reunion was being held that would have all the necessary amenities to make that fantasy finally come to life.

Looking up, she saw Joe wander in, stag. 'Big surprise there—I bet he's still the biggest introvert in the world. I bet he also drives all the women he works with crazy without knowing it,' Debbie mused. Joe was as handsome as ever, dressed nicely... and, thankfully, dateless. Debbie got up to say hello to her ex-boyfriend, and after exchanging the normal pleasantries one expects to hear at a meeting of this sort, she noticed a gold band on his left ring finger.

And then, in walked a beautiful woman with large breasts, flared hips, and a tight blue dress. She put her arm possessively around Joe, kissed his cheek, and offered her hand to Debbie.

"Hi! I'm Gwen, Joe's wife. You must be Debbie, he's talked so much about you...." she said, but Debbie heard no more than that. This "Gwen" was a Goddess, and Debbie knew that possessive hold she had on Joe... it was one she herself had enjoyed a decade ago. Apparently, Joe was OK with the idea of not wearing the pants in a relationship—this angel probably told him when to breathe.

"Hi, I'm Debbie. And yes, I'm the one you've heard so many tales about, if Joe ever talks about high school anymore!" Debbie said, feigning mirth and excitement at meeting a woman who was more than her match under normal circumstances. As they talked (Debbie being pretty much on "small-talk autopilot" and not paying attention to either what was being said to her or what she was saying), she caught sight of Misty.

Misty hadn't filled out much. At just over five feet tall, she was pretty much as short as she'd been in school. Her black cocktail dress (a little too dressy for the hotel, but not too much so) revealed a nice body, albeit without many curves. This was the type of woman, Debbie thought, who came to her practice for help in quitting smoking—and the ones who looked this good also got some additional therapy that usually involved the patient tongue-massaging the therapist while under trance.

As Debbie's panties dampened at that brief thought, she realized that she was more than a match for even Gwen's divine beauty. She was going to take this man from under her grasp, even if for one night... and there'd nothing Mrs. Hotstuff would be able to do about it.

As the four of them took a seat at a table Debbie had arranged for her, Joe, and Misty to sit at (an additional chair and place setting had to be brought in for Gwen), she sprung her plan into action by first separating everybody. Since Joe was with Gwen, she dropped a lot of hints that they should have some drinks so she and Misty could catch up... and when Gwen agreed and held out her hand to Joe, he took it and followed her like a dog follows his master... 'Or Mistress,' Debbie thought as she set her eyes on Misty.

"So, Misty... how's it been for you? We haven't talked much since graduation," Debbie began. "You look a little tense, honey," Debbie added, suddenly remembering the only trigger she left Misty that would make her want to relax. It was a weak trigger, but it worked to get her in a state where she would appreciate a good relaxation technique or two.

Immediately rubbing her suddenly tense shoulder, Misty responded, "Well, girl, so much has happened. After college, I got an entry-level job at an accounting firm in St. Louis, so I was far away from the old gang here... and let's just say that 50-hour-plus weeks don't leave much time for getting a man... much less getting laid! I see Joey isn't having too much trouble though—I wonder, have you kept up with him? Is he still..." Misty began to ask, suddenly lowering her voice to a whisper, "a real asshole? And how did he get a girl like that?"

Debbie had by this point moved behind Misty and had begun to massage her shoulders. "Wow, you are tense. No, we haven't kept in contact too much," Debbie began, slowly turning Misty so that she was facing directly the decorative plasma ball on the table. "Hey, go ahead and play with the ball while I rub your shoulders... it's very relaxing. Trust me, I'm a pro," Debbie said.

"Yeah, I heard you became a therapist," Misty said, leisurely dragging her fingers along the glass sphere, watching the colorful streamers meet her fingertips as Debbie relaxed her. "Hypnosis, isn't it?"

"Yes," Debbie answered. "If you like, well, we have a few minutes... I could help you relax a bit. You look a little tense, honey," she said, reinforcing the probably-stale trigger.

"Yesssss... that soundsss... nice...," Misty slurred as she stared deeply into the center of the plasma ball, occasionally shifting her focus onto the various streamers that now randomly struck the inside of the globe since Misty had ceased touching it.

"Just listen to my voice, Misty. Focus on the colors in the ball. I'll get you all fixed up and relaxed, OK?" Debbie said softly into Misty's ear, barely able to resist a little lick or nibble.

"OK...," Misty dreamily said, sighing as she started to slip under.

"Just relax, hon. Relax your legs, your back, your arms. Let you face slacken, don't force any expression. Just slip down to that spot just above sleep...," Debbie intoned. "I'll even count down for you, so you don't go too fast... and when I get to one, you'll be totally stress-free, totally relaxed, and it'll feel great, I promise. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yesssssssss...." Misty, who for some reason beyond her conscious understanding, wanted more than to forget her troubles and just... relax.

"Each number will drive you further down, till all you hear is my voice... not the crowd here, not the music, not even your own thoughts. Just me. Ready?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm," Misty moaned. Debbie took it as a "yes," although at this point Misty was already beyond being able to say "no."

"Three. Deeper and deeper... way, way down...."

Misty's eyes fluttered.

"Two. Deeper and deeper. Way down...."

Misty's head bobbled slightly and pitched forward.

"One. Deeper. Way, way, way down...."

Misty's eyes closed and her head tilted forward. And there it stayed.

"Let's go back ten years or so, honey... do you remember Bislut?" Debbie began. She'd done a lot of "research" on her own brand of hypnosis over the years, and was pleased by Misty's monotone responses—they indicated that even after a decade, the suggestions were still fresh.

By the time Gwen and Joe were back, Misty was more than a little horny... and trying not to check out the babe who had managed to land Joe. She even started to hope that Joe wasn't the shithead he had been in school... although remembering how he looked, Bislut Misty was surprised that she had never overlooked her raw hatred for the smart-ass and fucked him behind Debbie's back.

"Hey Misty," Debbie said, "didn't you say you had to visit the power room?" Debbie asked, knowing that her recent instructions would help separate Joe from his apparent owner.

Suddenly needing to do just that, Misty nodded and invited Gwen to come along. Gwen kissed Joe on the cheek and sauntered off behind Debbie, allowing Debbie the minutes alone she'd need with Joe.

"Hey, Joe, what do you know?" She smiled as she said his initial trigger, one that worked on him like "you look a little tense, honey" worked on Misty. Moving quickly behind him, she started to put him under, realizing that this was the point of no return.

Joe appeared to be his normal self when Gwen and Misty returned. He didn't notice when Misty pulled Gwen's chair out for her, or when she gently brushed Gwen's shoulders with her hand as Gwen took the offered seat. Misty licked her lips and looked at Debbie, who had noticed the tiny twin peeks of Misty's nipples showing through her black satin dress.

With Debbie watching, Misty—still behind Joe and Gwen—rubbed her nipples to quiet them down. Debbie knew that by now, she was horny enough to fuck a horse... male or female. 'She doesn't even know she's still in a sort of trance,' Debbie thought with a bit of pride. 'Fuck, I'm good.'

Except for Joe hanging on Gwen's every word, motion, breath, etc., everything went as planned. The dancing started around 8:00 PM, and Misty had a little too much fun (for Debbie's tastes) dancing rather closely with anyone who showed interest in her—and that meant just about everybody. By the end of the third song, she was literally flush with desire. Finally, after the fourth song, Gwen left for the lady's room—the one place she couldn't drag Joe—and Debbie made her move.

It didn't take much coaxing to get Misty to go to room 409. Joe was a different story.

"I don't know, Deb... I mean, I'm with Gwen now...."

"Joe, I just want to catch up. Seriously. C'mon, Gwen won't care...."

"No, I think I should wait... besides, Misty is there, and she never really cared for me...."

"Joe, look. That's in the past. C'mon, I just want to talk."

"I still don't think it's a great idea... I don't want Gwen to get mad or wonder where I've wandered off to...."

"Look, if it makes you feel better, I told Gwen where we'd be, gave her a key, and she's OK with it," Debbie said, lying.

"Ehhhhh... I don't know...."

'This guy could never make up his mind... no wonder he needs a woman to do it for him!' Debbie thought as she finally decided to use his trigger. "It makes me happy when you obey, Joe."

Joe's expression faded slightly, then returned to normal. "Well, as long as Gwen's OK with it. Let's go," he said, his cock slowly but surely stirring to life. He followed Debbie, watching her heart-shaped ass the whole way to the elevator... and in the elevator... and down the 4th floor hall... and finally into room 409. When they got there, his dick was so hard, a cat couldn't scratch it.

As they closed the door, a moaning sound brought them both to the bedroom in the large suite. There, spread eagle, was Misty, one hand on her left tit and the other rubbing the upper part of her pussy. Quickly, she found her clit and rubbed it to a quick orgasm before returning to the slower, gentler action.

"Well, are you two gonna fuck me, or do I have to beg?" Misty asked.

Debbie, who had started to disrobe as soon as she and Joe arrived in the suite, descended on her previously straight (and temporarily bisexual nymphomaniac) friend, kissing her on the mouth. Joe looked confused, apparently trying to process in his modified mind the scene before him.

"Hey... I have an idea," he said suddenly. He reached into his suit jacket pocket and produced a long, silk scarf. From his other pockets, he managed to come up with two pair of handcuffs.

'I think Gwen had some ideas for tonight... well, I guess I'll have to test-drive my little Joe out before she gets a crack at him,' Debbie thought as she saw Joe take off his jacket, tie, shirt, belt, pants, and...

'Oh fuck, it's bigger than I remember,' Debbie thought as she caught sight of his member. It was every bit of eight inches, a size that never sounds impressive until it's in any orifice of a woman's body. In his current mode, he would not cum until commanded to do so. 'Not that he knows about that,' Debbie mused as she imagined how long she'd ride him before allowing him any hope of release.

'It's too big for my ass, but Misty does have fingers for that... hey, what's going....' Debbie's mind wondered as Joe approached her and cuffed her right hand to the right side of the headboard on the hotel's bed. He glanced at Misty, nodded, and she moved between Debbie's legs and started licking her pussy with vigor—Debbie's legs spread out reflexively in response. Before Debbie could say anything, her mouth was covered with Joe's, and any questions she had about his sudden assertiveness were washed away by his always-talented tongue.

As he kissed her, he moved around so he could use his other pair of cuffs to attach Debbie's left wrist to the left side of the bed's headboard. Releasing the kiss, he whispered into her ear (licking between every other word), "Shhh, baby... this will be better than you remember... quiet now...."

With Misty between her legs and driving Debbie to her first orgasm, Debbie could not resist as Joe used his belt to bind Debbie's left leg to the left post at the foot of the bed. He used the necktie he'd been wearing to tie her right leg to the appropriate corner of the bed, and then went to the night stand.

He produced a small vial of liquid from the drawer, and she watched as he put two drops on the scarf he'd shown her. He tied it around her mouth as Misty finally brought her to her first climax, and as she breathed in, she passed out quickly.

The first thing Debbie could see as she woke up was a strange, sparkling light. As it moved around slowly, the light source split the white light of the ceiling fixtures into a multitude of rainbows that played in Debbie's eyes and brain as a soft, feminine voice droned on just beyond comprehension.

Then, darkness... but only for a moment or two; because the sounds of a woman screaming, moaning, screaming, moaning—back and forth went the voice, alternating between moans and screams at an erratic rate—brought her back to reality. Suddenly, she felt her head clear... mostly. The fact that it wasn't totally clear was trouble, and she knew it—after all, she'd been doing this to people for years and kept detailed notes on how they perceived their active trance states or alter egos.

'They got me....' she thought as she realized something had happened to her mind. She took stock of her situation when she could see again: she was tied to the bed, gagged, and... 'What the fuck?' her mind screamed as she saw what was happening on her bed.

Joe was on his back, draped over Debbie's left leg somewhat. He was using one hand to play with Debbie's left tit, and the other to pinch the nipple of the girl above him.

'Oh fuck, that's Misty! What the fuck's going on here??' Debbie's mind screamed in lieu of any ability to make a verbal sound other than "mmmmmpff!" Then she saw that Misty wasn't just getting fucked by Joe. Behind her, wearing a strap-on and taking Misty's ass with it, was Gwen; her hands roamed Misty's body possessively, occasionally slapping Joe's hand away so she could torture both of Misty's nipples—much to Misty's agonizing delight, if her facial expression could be believed.

Joe leaned up when he met Debbie's surprised eyes, mumbled something to Gwen, and she smiled and slowed (but didn't stop) her hip movements.

Responding to some trigger word Debbie was too shocked to comprehend, Joe reached down from Debbie's breast, licked his finger, and started rubbing it over Debbie's clit. As the sensations quickly made her body tense up even more than the erotic scene had already done, Gwen started to speak.

"So, you are the famous Debbie. You're the one who left a bunch of shit in my man's head. I'll have you know it took weeks to get it out of there so I could make him mine," she said.

Debbie tried to say something to deny the truth, but all she could manage was "mmmmf!"

"Joe, let's give Misty one more quick one," Gwen said as Debbie watched. Gwen leaned forward just a bit and held on to Misty's body as she rapidly increased the motion of her anal intrusion. Joe took his teasing finger from Debbie's pussy and picked up his pace as well, and Misty's head rolled around slightly at the fierce penetration that was building so much pleasure in her loins she would explode with it soon. To hasten what she knew would be another orgasm she could only call "the best" she'd ever had, Misty started to rub her own clit and play with her nipples.

Within a few seconds, Misty came again, finally collapsing on Joe from exhaustion—but still impaled on Joe's prick, and still moving on it slightly.

Gwen withdrew from Misty and took off her strap-on. She moved onto the bed, placed herself between Debbie's legs, leaned forward, and licked Debbie from asshole to clit very slowly. Sitting up a bit, she put her finger on Debbie's clit and rubbed it quickly, bringing Debbie to the edge of release—and then nearly stopping; her finger suddenly moved so slow that it would not give the orgasm it had promised earlier and now just pushed Debbie further towards the edge.

"Yes, Joe told me all about you. All about what you did to him, what you made him do... not that he didn't enjoy it," she said, turning her head and leaning over to give Joe a passionate kiss. His hands went to Gwen's tits and pinched her nipples slightly, making her quiver a little. That motion almost caused Gwen to lose control of her slow pace, and Debbie was hoping it'd happen so she'd get to ride the wave of sexual energy building within her to a climax. But, Gwen regained control and took Debbie to the edge of release, only to bring her back down again.

As Debbie started to wiggle and writhe as much as her bound position allowed, Gwen continued. "Mmmm, yeah, little Debbie. I found all those old triggers you left laying about in Joey's noggin. Whatever hold you had on Joey here was wiped out a few weeks after he met me." With that, Gwen again quickly rubbed Debbie's clit, but this time she used her other hand's fingers to enter her dripping cunt. She curved those fingers up slightly and moved both hands to expertly bring Gwen to the most powerful orgasm she could remember.

While Debbie was still seeing stars from that climax, Gwen licked her fingers, tasting her latest conquest for the first time.

"It took a little while to track Misty down. You were pretty sloppy; I'd expect more expertise from a fellow member of our exclusive club. You see, you blabbed about your plans for your never-realized ménage à trois while Joey was under, when you programmed him for your encounter... and then you didn't even capitalize on it. Shame, his cock has more than satisfied little Misty here," Gwen said, motioning towards the thoroughly fucked body that slumped over Joe, "and I enjoy it immensely myself." Misty had started to rouse herself during Gwen's conversation; her hips were now moving in a steady rhythm over Joe's stationary cock.

"Anyway, when Joey got the invite to this reunion a few weeks ago, I figured you might try this. I barely had time to work on Misty; getting my man here to overlook her inherent bitchiness was easy enough but making her docile enough to live with us... well, that was a bit more involved. And now," Gwen said, rising up from between Debbie's legs and placing her pussy above Debbie's mouth, "it's time for you to join the family. I must admit, it'll make my job of getting slaves a little easier. You are fairly talented... for an amateur. Joey and Misty, it's recruiting time."

Gwen produced a knife from the nightstand and cut the scarf, allowing Debbie's mouth to gasp for air. Joe and Misty had moved into position between Debbie's legs and were taking turns licking her feet, legs, pussy—basically, anything they could get their tongues on. And above Debbie's face was the glistening cunt of a terribly gorgeous woman. And it was getting closer. The tongues working her lower body were starting to drive her nuts; she'd thrash right off the bed if she could only move.

"When you lick my cunt, you'll be my newest fuck toy. I've already 'taught' you all you'll need to know, but I favor triggers that aren't verbal. You have to lick me, and when you do, you'll be mine." When she was done talking, Gwen's perfect pussy was resting just above Debbie's mouth, easily within licking distance.

Debbie understood the consequences of giving in. Her mind fought to keep her mouth closed, and not being able to move seemed to help—for the first few seconds. But as her body was racked with sensations she was powerless to move against or with, and as her desperation for release grew, she started to reconsider. Joe was fucking Misty now, in the ass or pussy—she couldn't tell because of the wonderful obstruction to her vision that floated above her face.

But, Debbie wasn't getting off. Misty would go fast and then slow down right before Debbie came. Desperately, her body forgetting its disposition, Debbie tried to move her hand to her snatch to finish off the orgasm... but her arms were both bound. She tried to close her legs to ease the intense pleasure coming form her sweltering sex—but they too were bound. Against her own volition, her body struggled against the restraints to either stop or control the sensations assaulting her—even the musky scent of the goddess above her was something she could not escape, now that Gwen was holding handfuls of Debbie's hair to make sure she looked straight up.

Debbie's tongue licked her lips as her body continued to frantically try to free itself—anyone in the neighboring room would probably think she was having a seizure. Debbie held back, mouth open and tongue out, for what seemed like an eternity. In a frenzy of hopeless motions, she tried to free her body so she could do something—anything—to get herself off. She wanted to 69 Misty, have Joe fuck her hard, play with her clit, slap her clit, twist her nipples... anything would do, and her body could not move more than an inch! Unable to speak for reasons she was to horny to even think about, she snaked a tongue up, somehow knowing that licking Gwen, the beautiful creature above her—no, the Goddess above her—would bring sweet release. She stopped her tongue as some half-asleep part of her brain tried to warn her.

'You know what she's doing! Stop thinking with your cunt! You need to get out!'

'Fuck... so fucking hot... so hot... need to cum... need to cum for Gwen... need to taste....'

'Don't... do it... escape... get out....'

'Need to cum... need to cum... need to cuuuuuuuum....'

To Gwen, the tongue stopped for only half a second before it made contact with her pussy, but as she bore her pussy down on the screaming face below her, she knew that Debbie's last half second of freedom probably lasted for a day and a half to her.

Grinding into Debbie's face, Gwen said, "Welcome to the family, slut."

Debbie then sucked on Gwen's clit into her mouth, silencing the motion in the top woman's hips, and washed her tongue over her love button in a circular motion, bringing her new Mistress to the first of many orgasms She'd enjoy that day.

Needless to say, none of the four made it back for the rest of the reunion party.

Epilogue

Two days later, looking a little haggard but also somewhat rested (and thankfully freshly-showered), they all finally emerged from the room. Gwen walked in front of Joe, as she had done since they started dating several years before—and Joe was more than happy to know that he'd been "promoted" from face slave to "Fuck Drone." With Debbie and Misty both serving as the new face slaves, Joe's only job was to use his big, hard cock to satisfy any woman in the house at command.

They all knew his triggers after a few days at Gwen's and Joe's house—the one that'd turn him into little more than a living sex doll, unable to cum until ordered to do so, and the other that turned him into an hyperactive fucking machine also unable to cum until allowed. For his part, Joe didn't mind being the sex slave of three women, performing at their amazingly frequent whims—after all, nobody would mind that, especially when surrounded by three women who seem to eat, sleep, and breathe sex.

Misty, in particular, was happy to have finally realized what a great guy Joe could be... when she wasn't busy licking Gwen, anyway.

As for Little Debbie (her new name)—her mind was left intact at the conscious level, acting out robotically her programmed responses to unusual choices for trigger words. Gwen had done this on purpose; Joe was Gwen's slave, and when she took him, she was bound to look out for him. To her, Debbie's punishment of living inside a body that crudely acted on command like the saps she'd used her stage hypnosis tricks on was just and fair. That, and Gwen got a little thrill every time Little Debbie flashed her tits to the nearest person any time she heard the trigger, "T.H.O."