Monica ran one department in the office; Michael ran the other. They did not get along well. Almost daily, she would storm into his office and yell at him about his incompetence, and the incompetence of his staff. At first he had engaged with her, but after a while he would simply put on his noise cancelling headphones, press a button on his keyboard, and his office would fill with a staticky white noise, presumably intended to drown her out. It infuriated her, and she refused to be driven away by such a childish tactic, so she stayed and continue to yell for upwards of another 10 minutes as the static played and Michael pretended to ignore her.
Eventually she stayed so long that the white noise came to an end. She stopped in mid-sentence, surprised. She felt a little… funny. Michael took off his headphones and said, “You’re a stupid bitch, Monica.” The words “stupid bitch” struck her as if she had been slapped. She opened her mouth, but said nothing. Michael added, “Go back to your desk, stupid bitch.” Monica could think of no reply, so she turned, and went back to her desk.
She fumed all afternoon. How dare Michael call her a stupid bitch? And why did those words now feel so… charged… for her? She ignored her work as she focused on elaborate and implausible plans for revenge against her rival.
She was still fuming that evening when there was a knock at the door of her expensive apartment, where she lived alone. She opened the door, and was shocked to see Michael standing there.
Before she could close the door in his face, he said, “Let me in, stupid bitch,” and Monica, to her horror, found herself opening the door and welcoming him into her apartment. He strode in, grinning smugly, looked around, and then said, “Pull your top up, stupid bitch. Let me see your slutty bitch tits.”
Those words, “stupid bitch”, controlled her. Her face pale with rage, fear and humiliation, she found herself lifting her top and exposing her well-formed tits to this man she hated.
He laughed at her discomfort. “Good girl,” he told her. “Now bare your cunt, stupid bitch.”
It must have been the static, she realised. He had been implanting subconscious triggers all the while she had been yelling at him. She pulled off her skirt, and blushed. She wished she hadn’t worn such a sexy garter belt and panties. It wasn’t intended for Michael. She pulled her panties down her legs and kicked them away, blushing as Michael stared at her exposed pussy but unable to cover herself.
“Kneel, stupid bitch,” he said next, and she did. “Legs apart,” he added, and though he hadn’t given the command phrase, she obediently spread her legs, not wanting to anger him.
“Good girl,” he said again, and approached her, taking his cock out of his pants. He looked at her, grinning. She realised what he wanted. He wanted her to open her mouth without being told to. She blushed, and clamped her mouth shut. But… what would he do to her if he chose to punish her? Her cheeks flushing even redder, she relented, and opened her mouth, and gagged slightly as Michael shoved his erect cock into her mouth.
“Stupid bitch,” he said to her, “believe you’re in love with me and that I’ll leave you if you don’t give me a good enough blowjob. Your belief will end when I cum.”
Her eyes widened and she felt tears in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to lose Michael. He was everything to her! She began to suck desperately, gazing up at him with pleading, adoring eyes. She needed him to see what a good, submissive slut she could be. She rubbed her tits against his leg, and moaned whorishly to please him. She knew she was probably terrible at sucking cock – she had had so little practice in life – but she hoped Michael took pity on her and rewarded her with his cum.
Eventually, Michael grabbed her head, pulled her off his cock, and ejaculated messy, hot sperm into her eyes, across her face, and onto her tits. Her sense of identity returned abruptly, and she felt nauseated by what she had just done – who she had just been. She coughed, and went to wipe the cum off her face.
“Leave the cum where it is, stupid bitch,” he told her, and she reluctantly lowered her hand.
“Now, stupid bitch, go to the bedroom and get all your panties, and all the clothes you wear below your waist that aren’t shoes, socks or miniskirts.”
She did as she was told, sure that she wouldn’t like where this was going. When she returned, Michael had pulled the garbage bin out of the kitchen into the lounge room. Two thick blue vibrators were sitting on the ground, and a small plastic capsule with a clip on the end.
“Stupid bitch, kneel. Put the dildos in your pussy and anus and turn them on. Attach the vibrating capsule to your clitoris using the clip, and turn it on – see the switch?”
She did as she was told. She had never had anal sex, and she had to spit to lubricate the anal dildo. It hurt and made her feel uncomfortably full. The clip biting into her clitoris hurt worse. The three vibrating objects made her feel strange. She felt her pussy wettening uncontrollably, completely bypassing her conscious mind.
“Now,” he told her, “cut up all your old clothes with these scissors, stupid bitch, and put them in the garbage. You will be wearing miniskirts without panties from now on. While you do it, stupid bitch, think of the three men in your life it would be most humiliating to have sex with, and picture them raping you. From now on, stupid bitch, thinking about being raped will always make you wet, and when you are wet you will fantasise about being raped by one of the three men it would be most humiliating to fuck.”
She moaned in horror as she began to cut up the clothes. Her mind was filled with images of being fucked by her father, her brother, and by Michael. She tried not to picture it, but the details just kept becoming more vivid. She thought about her father covering her mouth with his hand as he ejaculated into her pussy, and suddenly she was orgasming uncontrollably.
“Good girl,” said Michael, laughing. “I’m going to leave now. You’re going to continue following my orders, stupid bitch. When you’re done cutting up the clothes, take the garbage bag, and walk down the road, exactly as you are, tits and pussy bare, vibrators in your pussy and ass, cum on your face, and knock on each door. If someone answers, ask them if you can borrow their bin, because you’re throwing out all your ugly clothes so that people will fuck you more often. Keep knocking on doors until someone lets you use their bin, then you are free to go home. And, stupid bitch, you will NOT replace those clothes, you WILL turn up to work each day anyway, and you will NOT do or say anything that would reveal what I have done to you or limit my ability to toy with you in future.”
He repeated it, to make sure she had heard him – she was busy having her second orgasm and looked a little spacey – and then left. He wondered idly how much of a slut he could make her before the company fired her. He looked forward to finding out…
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When Monica hears the words "stupid bitch", her hypnosis kicks in and she becomes the toy of her most hated rival.