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There he is. That slippery son of a bitch, sitting in that little mud-hut of his, conning his next victim out of their money. You’re going to put a stop to that today.

It’s not difficult to find Lane, sitting at his desk as he lazily flips through something on his codex. He looks up, at first to greet a new customer into coming into his plane, but his emotion washes away the moment he registers you.

“Lane! you shout, trying to sound as aggressive as you can. You march into his office, one hand on your essyra greatspear as you slap down on his table. You make it as obvious as you can that he’s in trouble and that no amount of pleading is going to stop you.

Lane leaps from his chair in response, fearful for his own safety, and instinctively opens his tassels to you. The adrenaline coursing through his blood speeds up his heart rate, making the lights of his body pulse brighter. Your first thought is to shield your eyes – but your hands suddenly become rather heavy. Your eyelids, however, are light as could be.

Your ‘rampage’ against him ends as quickly as it starts. Your arms hang limp at your sides as he absorbs you once again. He still looks afraid, pressed against the far wall, but when he realizes why you’ve stopped, he peels himself away.

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Your mind’s voice screams at you to move, to thrash him and take back what belonged to you. You fought so hard to break away from Lane – you should be clean now! He should have no power over you anymore! But your body disobeys your every command, and, on its own volition, you drop to your knees, looking up at Lane helplessly.

Ferociously, Lane clamps both his hands against your head, rocking your eyes in your skull from the blow, but you don’t look away. Lane leans in close until his ever-changing eyes are all you see. You feel his breath blow down your neck through clenched teeth, and you feel his claws dig into the roots of your hair painfully. “You’re a very special person, Morgan,” He says disdainfully, forcing your head still to make sure your eyes never leave his. “I’ve never heard of a person breaking out of their hypnosis before. You’re much stronger than I gave credit for.”

Your shoulders begin to go slack and loose in his grip. Visions of you serving him once more begin to fill your eye, and the wonderful feel of being his creeps over you. You begin to question why you had ever bothered to try and fight him in the first place – you know happiness when you’re with Lane. “Perhaps I gave you too much leeway, giving you enough freedom to wander the stars as you like. We won’t be making that mistake again, that’s for damn sure.”

“Watch the swirling lights,” he says, and it’s hard not to. Everything in your vision is moving and swimming: from the tattoos on his body to the lights in his eyes. The familiar sensation of being immersed in him, engrossed by him, overcomes you. “You trust Lane. You can listen to Lane. Lane wants you to watch the swirling lights.”

Any resistance you thought you once had evaporates as you’re introduced to the bliss that is Lane’s hypnotism. “This is all so familiar to you. You remember being where you are before.” He’s right, and in more ways than one: although you never remember the sessions, you remember the sensations subconsciously. “Familiarity is good; familiarity is safe. Lane is familiar to you. You are safe with Lane. You want to stay with Lane, because Lane is safe.”

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How did you never think of it that way before? Like a warm house, or a cozy bed, you’ve never felt more at-ease than with Lane. You want to nod your head, but you don’t really have the strength or the drive. You’d much rather just keep watching and listening. “You don’t ever want to leave Lane again. You don’t mind giving up your life to be with Lane. The universe is unfamiliar to you; you want to stay with Lane, where it’s safe.”

You have to admit, that’s a good point. In your journey to claim your inheritance, you’ve been to different planets, met unfamiliar and dangerous plants and animals, and traveled the lonely stars. Why should you pursue such recklessness, when you could stay with Lane all your life?

“You’ve forgotten your birthplanet.” Well, that’s silly. You were born on... on... huh. “But wherever it was, it is too different now. You love the planet Venar much more.” You do enjoy the warmth of the desert sands and the contrasting coolness of its caves...

“You’ve forgotten your spaceship.” It was a hunk of junk anyway. “Its metal hide was too unforgiving compared to the concrete of Lane’s hut. You prefer Lane’s home to your spaceship.” You have been here enough times to know just about every little thing about it.

“You’ve forgotten your friends.” You try to put names to faces and faces to names, but, as Lane continues to absorb you, you have the damndest time doing either. “People change. People corrupt. But Lane will never change. You are comfortable with Lane because Lane will never change.” You sigh in relaxation, watching Lane as he works his familiar, wonderful magic with you.

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“You’ve forgotten your name.” You figured that would have been a difficult thing to forget, but you’re delightfully surprised by Lane’s skill. “As Lane does not call you by it, it has become unusual and unfamiliar to you. You eagerly await the day Lane will give you a new name.” That’s been something you’ve been hoping for all your life. You remember, as a child, fantasizing about the most perfect name Lane will give you when he finally feels it’s ready.

“You remember living to serve Lane.” All the memories you had of providing for your master, waiting on him hand and foot, and loving every last second of it, come rushing back to you. “You remember surrendering to Lane physically, emotionally, and sexually, and you remember your life being perfect.” You had no problems, until... until someone tried to confuse you and take that all from you. The thought that you’re almost back to your perfect life makes your heart race.

“You remember the taste of Lane’s cock.” It was sort of a salty, spicy taste; utterly unique to Lane, having been hidden behind his genital slit all his life, saturating itself in its own flavors, waiting for you to taste of him. “You want to taste it again.” Gods above, do you ever.

Lane releases his grip on your head and leans back in his chair. “Pull down my pants,” he commands, and you do so with trembling, excited hands. You reach for the waistband of his flowing, airy pants, gripping onto them and pulling them from his waist with ease once he lifts his pelvis. “Remove my undergarments.” You again obey, licking your lips as your fingers dig into the tight elastic of his underwear, and, teasing yourself, you pull down, slowly revealing his long, hard, hot, smooth, magnificent, delicious pink obelisk to you, pulsing and spurting, just as excited to see you as you are to it.

“You may taste Lane.”

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You wouldn’t give it up for the world.


“Now, I want you to open your eyes. Don’t force them open. Just let them.”

Your master instructed you to hide behind his chair in the hypnosis room as he works with another client of his. You sit, totally naked, as you await for your further instruction.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done this with your master to a client of his, but it is a relatively new idea. You are nonetheless eager to do it again; you’ve noticed some real changes in attitude in some of the clients after you’ve finished. You sit there, jilling yourself, plunging your fingers into your pink vagina as you await your master’s command. You know this is a delicate procedure, but you’re just so anxious to get started!

A few minutes pass. You can see the light of Lane’s blood glowing off the far walls of the room you’re in, giving you a weak light show to entertain yourself with until you’re needed. Your heart leaps into your throat when you hear your master say, “Come forward, Cocksucker.”
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It is both a name and one of your many occupations, since you’ve started living with Lane. You emerge from behind Lane’s chair, crawling seductively across the floor on all fours. You can see Lane’s client in the opposite chair: a pretty, raven-haired human, her eyes wide as saucers as she finds herself absolutely absorbed in Lane. This is the fourth time you’ve seen her this week – your master’s new ‘procedure’ must be working.

Lane already has his long, throbbing lizard cock out in display. He does nothing to arouse himself further and keeps his hands to his sides, allowing you to do your job. Licking your lips, you crawl up your master’s legs slowly, and, without so much as a word, lunge forward, swallowing his cock all the way to the base – just as you’re trained, and just as he likes.

“Watch closely,” Lane says, not to you. “This is Cocksucker. You are jealous of her. You would like for nothing more than to replace her.” That line always makes you shiver – your master would never replace you, would he? “You want for nothing more than to be between Lane’s knees and pleasuring him.”

This continues for the better part of an hour, with Lane growing more and more aroused with each command. As your mouth begins to flood with his cum, you’re reminded of what a simple, wonderful life you live, and how you’re so fortunate to live it. You do hope this woman succumbs soon – it’d be a crime to hoard your gifts to yourself.

GAME OVER
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