He turns their lives upside down

Amina tilted her head, still staring blankly ahead.

“You’re going to forget your life,” he said slowly.

“Forget my life…” she echoed, monotone, almost like a machine following instructions.

“Yes. Forget everything you were. Your family. Your friends. Your studies. Your religion. Your name, everything. You never existed as Amina.”

“...Never, Amina…”

Nadia’s chest tightened. She felt her stomach twist as her sister’s expression remained distant, eyes unfocused.

“You are… Ami Asscheeks. A stripper. You love attention. You live to be looked at, desired, humiliated… and adored. That’s who you are.”

“… Ami Asscheeks. A stripper… I love attention… desired, humiliated… adored…” Amina repeated each word with a slow, eerie obedience.

Nadia’s fingers gripped the edge of the couch. She wanted to intervene, to yell, to shake her sister out of it, but she was powerless. Amina’s mouth moved, voice flat, and every word filled her mind like a script she had **** but to follow.

“You are bold. You are greedy. You crave the spotlight. Every inch of you exists to please, to entertain, to obey. This is your life, Ami. You are never gonna be Amina again. You are everything you’ve been told, everything you secretly wanted to be.”

“Everything I’ve been told… I wanted to be…”

The words repeated in Amina’s mouth as Nadia watched, heart hammering. Her sister’s head tilted slightly, lips parting, eyes blank.

His voice softened, coaxing. “Ami Asscheeks… wake up.”

Amina’s eyes fluttered, and her body shook slightly as if coming out of a deep sleep. She blinked rapidly, gaze darting around the room, and froze when she realized her nakedness.

“Oh… oh my… what-” Her voice cracked. She instinctively raised her arms to cover herself.

“Who… who are you?” She said as she looked at her own sister.

Nadia’s throat tightened. Her hands clenched, wanting to rush forward, to yell, to shake her sister out of whatever spell had taken her. She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

“That’s just a client,” the caller said smoothly through the speakerphone. “She doesn’t matter anymore. Focus on me.”

Ami’s expression softened, confusion giving way to tentative acceptance. “Okay… okay…” Her shoulders sagged slightly, as if the weight of that reassurance calmed something inside her.

“But… who are you?” she asked, her voice small, curious, yet tinged with a strange excitement.

“I am your owner,” the voice said simply.

Ami’s lips parted in a soft gasp, and a flush spread across her cheeks. She tilted her head back, letting a small, giddy smile creep over her face. “Yes… yes… I understand,” she whispered, a shiver of pleasure threading through her tone.

“Good,” the voice said. “Now, find the most revealing outfit you can, something that suits you perfectly and put it on. But before you leave, hand the phone to the client in front of you.”

Ami nodded quickly, her eyes bright and eager now. There was no hesitation in her movements. She glanced briefly at Nadia, who was still frozen in shock and heartbreak, handed her the phone, then turned back to the task with a strange, obedient energy.

As Amina disappeared into the bedroom, the caller’s voice shifted, softer this time, almost teasing. “Nadia… you can speak now. But no yelling.”

Nadia didn’t hesitate. “Who the hell are you? What the fuck is this? Explain yourself, right now!” Her voice cracked, half from rage and half from helpless fear.

The caller laughed lightly, almost amused. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want to get punished.”

Nadia blinked, confused. “Punished? You’re insane!”

“Alright, then,” he said smoothly. “Put your thumb in your mouth and shut up unless I ask you a question.”

Her jaw tightened, but before she could argue further, her fingers obeyed on their own. She bit down lightly, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes.

“I heard about this app from a friend,” the voice continued, calm and measured. “She told me it could control whoever you call. I thought she was crazy… until I found it myself. My first attempts were disappointing, but the app does work. You just need to know how to frame your sentences.”

Nadia’s heart pounded in her chest. She **** herself to listen, lips pressed around her thumb.

“And now I have Amina,” he said, voice sharper, edge of excitement creeping in. “Tell me… who was Amina? And what is the relationship you two share? And speak to me respectfully”

She hesitated only a moment, then spoke carefully, the words coming with **** respect, as instructed. “Amina… she’s my older sister. She’s always been careful, responsible, deeply religious. She tries to keep us both in line, especially me.”

Her eyes flicked toward the bedroom, thinking of her sister’s empty, obedient posture, then back at the phone. “And I… I’m Nadia. I’ve always been… more… westernized, I guess. Not as strict, not as careful. We live together, and we support each other. Sometimes we argue, but we love each other, even when we fight.”

The caller hummed softly. “Describe her personality fully. And yours. I want to hear everything. Respectfully.”

Nadia swallowed around her thumb before taking it out and spoke, trying to keep the anger in check. “Amina is… patient, organized, always thinking ahead. She’s generous, even when it frustrates me. She’s proud of our parents, and she’s… protective of me. I can be impulsive, stubborn… I get irritated easily when she lectures me, but I know she only wants what’s best. We bicker sometimes, but she’s my sister. I… I’d do anything for her. We moved to the US together from Pakistan. She’s the one person I can trust completely.”

A soft, approving chuckle came through the speaker. “Good. Very good. Keep that in mind. Remember it as you watch.”

As if right on cue, Amina returned to the living room, moving with a calm, fluid grace. Nadia froze mid-breath, eyes wide in disbelief.

Her sister was wearing her Halloween costume from last year, the one she herself had mocked endlessly, the one she thought was ridiculous and far too revealing. Metallic gold bikini pieces, coins dangling and shimmering with every movement, a transparent mesh skirt that barely hid anything, a harem dancer’s outfit.

On Nadia, the costume had seemed daring but playful. On Amina… it looked obscene. Her chest filled the top tightly, hips and ass pressing against her skirt, every curve exaggerated and on display. The contrast with her usual prim and proper appearance made it feel shocking, unnatural.

“Help me, Amina! Please!” Nadia cried, her voice breaking.

Ami’s blank eyes met hers. “Help with what?”

Nadia opened her mouth to argue, to explain, but the caller’s command was already in effect. Her thumb went back into her mouth, sealing her cries, her body obedient.

The voice came through the speaker again, smooth and precise, slicing through the room.

“Nadia, you don’t love Amina. You want to forget her. The truth is, she left the second you arrived in the US. She ran away and became a stripper.”

Nadia’s chest tightened. Her fingers trembled. The words reverberated inside her skull, each one a sharp, unwanted truth. She wanted to argue, to scream, to tell the voice it was wrong but she couldn’t. Her thumb pressed against her lips, sealing her protest.

“I… don’t… love… Amina…” she repeated quietly, almost automatically, letting the words roll over her tongue like a mantra. “I… want… to… forget… her…”

Her heart pounded. The tension in her chest was heavy, suffocating. She could feel her knees stiffen, her shoulders rigid, every muscle frozen in place. The voice continued, calm and deliberate, cutting deeper into her thoughts.

“But that left a hole in your family. And you, the new Nadia, you fill it. You took on the aspects you resented in her, her strictness, her devotion to your parents and became the perfect daughter, even as hints of rebellion remain. That’s what made you hire Ami. That’s what you wanted. To let go and have some forbidden fun with a random stripper.”

Nadia’s eyes widened, her mind replaying each accusation, each exposure of a hidden desire she’d never admitted. Her lips moved on their own, echoing the words, hesitant at first and then with more certainty:

“I… become… the… perfect… daughter…forbidden… stripper…”

Her voice was low, broken, the repetition almost a chant, her mind bending around the sentences as they carved themselves into her consciousness.

Her stomach twisted painfully as these new memories filled her, nausea and disbelief fighting a strange, **** acceptance. She shifted slightly in her seat, but the thumb against her lips reminded her of her helplessness. She could only watch.

Ami stood in front of her, tilting her head. Legs slightly apart, hips swaying just enough to accentuate the gold and mesh outfit that clung to her curves.

Nadia’s gaze clung to her sister’s form, and her own lips repeated the truth again, softer this time, almost as if whispering it to herself.

“…That’s… what… I… wanted…”

Her body quivered, her chest tightening as she realized the full scope of it, her sister was there, naked of her old self, both physically and mentally reshaped, and Nadia’s mind was being pulled along, word by word, phrase by phrase, until she could barely tell where her own resistance ended and the caller’s words began.

The voice softened, almost coaxing. “Nadia… close your eyes.”

She obeyed instantly, her lashes resting closed. The room was quiet except for her ragged breathing and the faint jingle of Ami’s costume.

“Now open them and accept your new life” the caller said.

When Nadia opened her eyes, the world felt… different. Her chest tightened, her gaze locked on Ami. She felt a heat rise in her body she hadn’t expected, every curve, every sway of Ami’s hips, every playful tilt of her head pulling her in.

“You can have another go with her,” the voice continued, calm, precise, almost indulgent. “Before she leaves. But first… send me your number. Hand the phone back to her when you’re done.”

Nadia’s fingers flew over the keypad, typing out her number with a strange giddiness she didn’t fully recognize. Her pulse raced as she tapped the message button and then handed the phone to Ami, her hands trembling, her eyes still fixed on the gorgeous woman in front of her.

“Please the client,” the caller said to Ami, voice soft but commanding. “And then come to the address I’m sending you.”

Ami nodded, eager, as if she had been waiting for an opportunity like this. “Yes. I will,” she said.

The line went dead. Silence filled the room for a brief, heavy beat before Nadia’s own instincts took over. Her body surged forward, driven by the intensity of desire and the strange, forbidden thrill the caller had planted in her mind. She pressed against Ami, hands grabbing at Ami’s tits, lips brushing skin with trembling eagerness.

Ami didn’t resist. She responded with equal vigour, hips arching, hands meeting Nadia’s in slow, teasing contact, as if testing the limits of what was allowed. Every motion, every gasp and shiver, amplified the strange mix of fear, fascination, and lust that coursed through both sisters.

Without hesitation, Nadia slipped her hand into her sister’s vagina, finding it wet already to her delight as Ami started moaning with pleasure.

For a few minutes, they were wrapped in their own private, twisted world. Nadia let herself explore, the sound of Ami’s breath, the weight of her body, the way her mind had been rewritten all blending into a haze that made the room feel impossibly small, impossibly intimate.

It didn't take long for the experienced Nadia to make a woman as sexually inexperienced as Ami cum.

When it was over, Nadia sat back, chest heaving, unaware of the reality the caller had imposed. Ami straightened, satisfied.

Ami stood, stretching just slightly, the gold-and-mesh outfit settling over her curves. She walked over to Nadia, hand outstretched. “Payment,” she said casually, almost imperiously.

Nadia didn’t hesitate. She fumbled with her wallet kept on a table next to her, handing over the cash, heart hammering in a mix of relief and lingering desire. “Can… can I book you again?” she asked, desperation spilling from her voice, eyes wide.

Ami shrugged, nonchalant, counting the bills in her hand as she moved toward the door. She didn’t even glance back at Nadia. The door closed behind her with a dull thud, leaving Nadia in sudden, absolute silence.

She sank onto the couch, mind spinning. The intensity of her feelings, the forbidden pull, the taboo fascination, clashed violently with everything she had been taught, everything she believed. Strippers like this Ami woman… they were a blessing. A temptation she hadn’t known she needed, a mirror showing her what she secretly craved.

Nadia stood, slowly, her legs weak, shaking from adrenaline and desire. She needed to do something ordinary to ground herself. She couldn’t be a horny mess, she had to call her parents and check in on them soon. She straightened out her clothes, smoothing the fabric over her curves, and started to glance toward the kitchen.

Maybe she needed to make herself something nice to eat. That’s when her eyes fell on it, Amina’s discarded hijab lying on the floor. She bent down to pick it up, running her fingers along the familiar silk. Without thinking, she raised it to her head, wrapping it around her hair.

Thankyou for reading my story! Hope you enjoyed it :) Chapter 2 is out now on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/Thehypno7ist