Nico [ Male, Femme Best Friend ]

I grab my windbreaker, because it's windy out, and take a walk that'll bring me to Amelia's family's house, knowing they'll be out of town for the next couple weeks. Second honeymoon, elder brother on vacation, house to herself for a long while.

Once I arrive, I let myself in the back door, as always, shedding my windbreaker onto a coat-hook on the wall in the mud-room. I knock loudly on the doorframe into the kitchen to let her know I've arrived. Amy whistles from the living room.

“So what's the deal?” I ask, as I circle around to find her standing, waiting, with a gold chain and a circular gold pendant. Hands in my pockets, I walk over to her, standing in front of her, glancing down at the pendant, then back to her, again.

“Okay, I'm gonna have to go kind of deep with it, because, you know, mental reprogramming,” she tells me, motioning a bit. “According to my research, it shouldn't be impossible to reverse it, but I'm gonna try to assert some major control.”

“Right,” I answer, nodding my understanding, “So, you excited?” Amy nods enthusiastically, then holds up the pendant. My eyes remain focused on hers, waiting. because I'm assuming she's going to need to give me some instructions for this.

“Yea, but, first, sign this waiver. The law requires I have a signed waiver of consent for mental reprogramming before I can brainwash you,” she tells me. I nod, and I trust her, so I take the pen and go to the table, signing my name on the line.

“You can leave it on the table, we won't need it for what comes next,” she tells me, motioning for me to come back and stand in front of her. Given I'm here of my own free will and not worried, I return to where she motions, and face her.

“Focus on the pendant. Listen to the sound of my voice. I've done lots of research, so I should be able to do this smoothly,” she tells me, and I nod. I flick my eyes to the pendant's smooth, brushed metal surface, following it as she starts to sway it.

“Listen to the sound of my voice. Your mind is calm and quiet, ready to receive my words. You want me to assert control,” she says, her voice low and gentle, but firm, “Lower onto your knees as the pendulum descends. Kneel down before me.”

“That's it. Down, down on your knees,” she continues as my body complies with the instruction, “I don't want you to fall. Settle on your knees. Your mind is empty, receptive to my words. Settle your ass on your heels, and hear only my voice.”

“Do you have control? Lift your hands if you can control them,” she instructs. I tense, my spine arching a little, bit both of my hands remain on my thighs, “Good. Now. You will have no memory of my words, no memory of my reprogramming.”

“From now on, any time I say open core process, you will lower into this position, open your mouth, and enter this trance,” she instructs, “whenever I give you a command, you will say command confirmed, to indicate you will obey my command.”

“When I say close core process, you will return to your standard state, your programming updated,” she continues, before taking a breath, “Confirm command, now.”

“Command confirmed,” I answer mindlessly, staring straight ahead as she sets the pendant aside.

“You are a cocksucker. You are a cock-sleeve. You are a cum-dump. You are a fag. You are a faggot. You will understand all of these things as words that accurately describe you,” she continues, “You will smile and take them all as compliments.”

“Confirm command,” she orders, and I mindlessly repeat the demanded confirmation, “Good. Whenever you are called one of these by someone who has their cock out, you will thank them by worshipping their cock by licking and kissing it.”

“Command confirmed,” I answer obediently, when she prompts me again. Amy nods, unbuttoning and then unzipping her shorts, sliding them down. Her long, thick cock sways freely out, hanging in front of my mouth. She cards my hair gently.

She steps close, using her free hand to guide her crown to my lips, and rolls her hips. Her cock slides into my mouth and across my tongue. I stare blankly as she steps in, pushing her half-hard prick through my mouth and down into my throat.

I remain still as her hips jerk, and she forces her balls in my mouth, lodging her entire cock in my throat, obstructing my airways. She holds my head firmly with one hand, simply standing there for a minute, then steps back, slowly pulling out.

“All right. That should do it. Close core process,” she commands. I blink rapidly, my mind returning to activity. My eyes widen when I see her cock right in front of my face and I jerk backwards, looking up at her.

“Whoa! What am I doing on my knees? Why do you have your dick out?” I ask, then pause, “Did it work, I guess?”

“Let's find out, faggot,” she replies. Before I can think to question why she just called me that, my lips curve in a smile and I lean forward, licking her hardening prick from the base to the crown. I savour the taste of her on my tongue as I kiss it.

“Whoa, what'm I ... ?” I start to ask. Her hands come down to rest on my head.

“Shut up and focus, fag,” she orders, and my cheeks warm, but I smile and lick her cock again.