Not so fast, actually

As Kate turned her back to me to walk toward her bedroom, I grinned and whispered "Tittydrop."

She instantly froze. Good. There was nothing in her field of view that may move while she was in this state, so she wouldn’t suspect anything when she would come to her senses. Just to be sure, I ordered "Don’t move until I order you to wake up. You can talk when I ask you a question, though."

She didn’t answer. Then again, why would she?

"You mentioned you once tried to have an operation to reduce the size of your chest. Do you still dislike your tits?" I asked.

"Yeeees…" she drawled back.

I sighed. What a pity to have such a gift turned into a curse because of other people’s attitude. "Are they sensitive?"

"Yeees…"

"Could you elaborate?" you questioned her.

"I think they are far more sensitive than those of the usual woman, from what my friends or my sister told me…" she answered, still with this blank tone. "They are also quite an erogenous zone…"

That was interesting. You decided to push on. "Could you come just by fondling your breasts or pinching your nipples?"

"I guess so… I avoid using them to pleasure myself…"

I frowned. "Is that so? Why?"

"Because I hate them… They make me feel different and inadequate… Everytime I tried touching them while masturbating, I stopped because I felt too disgusted with myself…"

That… was a fucking shame! People must have truly been horrible with this poor girl for her to hate her tits to the point of refusing any pleasure they could bring her. I wanted to help her. No, I had to help her.

I took a few seconds to think about it, then I declared "You actually love your tits. They’re beautiful, soft and always in arm’s reach. They make you whole and unique, both because of their size and the power they give you. There’s no shame in that, you should actually be proud of your chest. Besides, you love playing with it when you’re pleasuring yourself, or to have your lovers play with it. Do you agree?"

"Yeeessss…" she replied, sounding almost eager despite her state.

I grinned. I felt proud of myself, having somewhat helped this poor girl heal from her traumas. At least I hoped, only time would tell. Anyway… I deserved a reward, didn’t I? "It’s normal for us to sleep in the same bed, and for me to use your chest as a pillow. You feel no awkwardness from it and you even like it, it makes you feel useful and appreciated. Right?"

"Yeees…"

After a few seconds of consideration, I added "You always sleep with a shirt on. You don’t want to accidentally hypnotize me with your boobs."

She didn’t reply. It wasn’t a question, after all.

"Now you can wake up."