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What were they going to do? Sasha asked herself that over and over on the way back to her quarters. Was it because she found out Marcus wasn't really an army lieutenant? The lynx had unplugged all the microphones and cameras, or at least she thought she had, but they might well have some she didn't know about. It wasn't her time to be reinforced, why had they taken her out of schedule like this? She was supposed to tagteam Vicky with Dekhal in just a little while, why jerk her out of that for a reinforcement instead? What had she done? Nothing that she knew of.

Her hand shook as she closed the door to her quarters, but she heaved a huge sigh of relief at the sight of her monitor and the doe inside it.

"Sasha, you look awful! What happened?"

The lynx burst out laughing in spite of herself. It was halfhearted, a nervous titter more than anything, but it helped soothe her nerves and she needed that badly. "Nothing, I swear. Is it my time to be scrambled already? I thought I was due to go lick Vicky out of her wits."

"Er, you are. Were." Candice shifted in her seat and suddenly decided the wall behind Sasha was more interesting than the lynx herself. "You're not going to like this, Sasha."

"Give it to me straight, Candi." Sasha tried hard to sound braver than she felt. "I know you're not even supposed to tell me anything, and I'm grateful that you are. I won't be mad."

The doe sighed deeply, her squeezable bosom heaving on and off the screen. "It's Dekhal. I thought you two would go well together, but my bosses have been watching and they feel that you two being together would jeopardize their goals. He's been scrambled too many times recently so they're doing it to you instead. I'm so sorry."

Sasha stared blankly at the screen, hearing Candice but not really comprehending. She couldn't even process the information. Not that they were trying to split her and Dekhal up, but that she was going to resist reinforcement because of it. She knew she'd do it before she even thought it and now that she'd thought it she knew it was true, too. But she barely knew him, she said to herself. She didn't have any earplugs, or special contact lenses, they're watching her on the cameras, how would she even avoid being tranced and reinforced anyway?

None of that mattered. What did she have to lose? Between this and the thing with Marcus, her trust for her superiors was at an all-time low, and the worst they could do was a wipe that would happen sooner or later anyway. That was the reasoning she used when she first took Candice and it still rang true now.

Sasha steeled her nerve as Candice faded off the screen, replaced by swirling colors. Soft almost-music began to play, daring the conscious mind to chase it through its patterns and refrains, always on the edge of hearing, distracting the ears while the screen took the eyes. It suddenly occurred to Sasha that she had precisely no idea how to even do what she was planning. That didn't matter, of course--all she cared about was that she was going to try--but it was unsettling nonetheless.

Wait. The voice had started. When was that? Didn't matter, what it was saying was important. Sasha perked her ears up and strained to hear, which seemed to have gotten hard when she wasn't paying attention. The voice clarified, and Sasha grabbed the words, hanging on to them like a lifeline. "Follow the swirling colors with your eyes, remember how good it feels to be entranced, to be in the colors, to let yourself go deeper and deeper, down, down, so far down into the colors, into the trance, the trance you want, you need, deep down in your soul where know you need it," and so on, droning variations on that central theme.

Bits of the induction started to stand out professionally to Sasha. Clearly she'd been entranced like this many times before. The induction played to that, calling for her to remember the peace she'd felt, the sexual bliss, the complete contented helplessness--no, no, no! Sasha almost shook her head but stopped, remembering the cameras. She kept her eyes locked past the colors, just out of focus of the screen. Okay, so she'd been under before. That was nothing new. But what else could she learn? There was no person here, just a machine-altered voice, so the induction couldn't focus on the inquisitor or equivalent. There was no hypnotist, no master or mistress, no personal touch. The recording tried to focus her on the trance itself, not on the person doing the trancing. Interesting.

It would be taking her deep. Reinforcements were always deep, very deep, deeper than anything but a full wipe. In her mind's eye she pictured Dekhal, sitting on his bed, awash in the glow of the colors, fully erect and leaking precum. His jaw slack, his eyes vacant, staring off into the distance. He'd been utterly demolished. She had to be careful to avoid the same fate. What did she do when she wanted to take someone that far under? Hmm. Sasha tried to sway her leg, ever so gently so the camera wouldn't see.

It didn't move. Okay, stay calm. Sasha lost track of the voice and it had managed to relax her legs. As long as she kept it from taking her any further she'd be all right. Systematically, she tried to wiggle her toes. No dice. Her fingers. Nothing doing. Her torso. No can do. Her nose. Negative. She fought with a growing sense of panic as she tried part after part, muscle after muscle, and nothing responded. Somewhere along the line her eyes had focused on the colors and she couldn't even move them away, she had to keep staring into the colors, watching them swirl and glide, she couldn't pull her eyes away and she didn't _want_to pull her eyes away, she was helpless, she couldn't move her whiskers or her tail or her foot and she just kept sliding deeper and deeper and her ear twitched.

She did it again just to be sure she could. And again, to keep her sane, and again, just to make sure the colors knew that she was still her own, and again and again till it felt like it'd thrash its way right out of her head. She batted out the tempo to her favorite song, to a merry marching tune, anything at all to distract her from the controlling voice and those seductive colors. It was growing tired, and if she kept twitching it someone behind the camera would wonder why, but it didn't matter. She was still free!

* * *

How much time had passed? Sasha's eyes had drifted to the colors long ago, her ears stopped trying to listen to the voice consciously, her pussy started to respond to the constant attempts at induction, and her mind was split in forty different pieces at once.

On one level, she was aware she was still in the room. On another, she was thinking about what her favorite movie might have been like if the hero hadn't had a terminal disease, distracting herself and keeping a conscious train of thought to try to keep the suggestions from sticking very deeply. On another, she was feeling wave after wave of pleasure/relaxation/obedience course through her body from tufts to tail, leaving her cunt squeezing some imaginary dick, her tits diamond-hard, and her expression deliciously vacant. Somewhere else, she was thinking about Dekhal, wishing he was dominated and eating her out, wishing he was controlling her and taking her completely, wishing that together they were taking what was left of Vicky's mind, anywhere but here.

How much time was left? It didn't matter. Sasha wasn't sure she would be able to make it. A few times now she'd slipped, regained faux-consciousness without remembering how she'd got there. Once she had the taste of semen in her mouth even though no real man had entered the room. Another time she could remember, as if from a dream, staring at the breasts of some panthress, licking them, suckling them, while being taken from behind by someone else. In still another she recalled feeling drugged, chemically helpless, as effective as the real thing as long as she believed it. She was awake now, but for how long?

Once and a while she caught what the voice was saying, but she didn't like to. It was saying the most horrible things, all about Dekhal--he was disgusting, he was ugly, she didn't care about him, he didn't really like her deep down, he couldn't be trusted, that her choosing him didn't matter, he could never hypnotize her and if he tried it was rape, he would rape her if she wasn't careful, she must never go near him, she must never speak to him, he would speak only lies, only hurt her, and so on and on and on and on and on. It wasn't fair! Why all this, why now, why for her and for him? What had they done? Why did the state even care?! It wasn't fair! They didn't deserve this! Sasha banged on the walls of her mind with imaginary fists, helpless to move in reality, helpless to do anything but stare at the colors and listen to the music, because as bad as it was it wasn't as bad as the voice.

* * *

Sasha was crying. Not on the outside, her body wouldn't respond, but on the inside she was bawling. The movies were gone, the pleasure was gone, everything was gone but the voice. She was entranced, deeply, but her mind was blank, not suggestible or hypnotized, just offline. She sat there watching the screen but it held no special allure. She heard the music but it was just mindless noodling.

She heard the voice, though, full of awful commands, of endless repetitive contempt. She hated it, maybe. Maybe not. She couldn't tell. She wanted it to end, screamed for it to end, but of course it wouldn't and she couldn't because all that she could do was sit there, unable to say a word. The only things that kept her going were pride and grim determination. Pride that she'd beaten them, that she'd won, that she'd kept herself intact despite hours of attacks on her mind. Grim determination not to lose that prize.

Then the voice started to count backwards from twenty. Slowly, ever so slowly, with dozens of words between each number, but it was counting. Sasha counted with it because she found that she could. She felt her ears come back, her tail, her legs, and the rest of her body, piece by piece, lighting up like switches on a display. She started to notice things around her other than the screen--her clothes were where she left them, piled by the door; her bedsheets were soaked where she was sitting; her cunny was dripping from the powerful conditioned arousal of being reinforced. Her feelings came back, confusion, anger, sorrow, a little revulsion for Dekhal but thank the gods not much, weakness, and over it all a slowly awakening but inexorable white-hot searing lust.

She was standing before she knew what had happened, then she was putting on her clothes, then she was turning the lights back on. The screen was black, the speakers quiet. She knew that she should feel refreshed, energized, recharged: none of that was true. She was drained, tired to her core, mentally and physically exhausted from her ordeal, but no time to sleep. Sasha staggered to the door and opened it, pushing the metal with a supreme effort of will. Proving to the world that she was still standing, despite all they'd thrown at her. She had won!

In her staggered, confused, hazy triumph, she didn't even notice Dekhal sitting on a bench down the hall from her quarters. She listed that direction, heading toward Vicky by some instinct, focusing on putting one foot ahead of the other. It didn't matter what she'd do when she got there. She wasn't paying attention to anything but the simple, mechanical act of walking.

Sasha, barely managing to stay standing, collapsed utterly when Dekhal gently grabbed her and kissed her, then pressed her to the wall and stared into her eyes, looming over the top of her, saying one word: "Deep." His rumbling purr aroused her, repulsed her, surprised her, enveloped her, and many other things, but above all it gave her battered and broken mind someone safe to obey.

Sasha floated into the air, held aloft by the lion's arms, and drifted back to her quarters. Her eyes floated back to his of their own accord; though she could see his mouth moving, she heard no words. What was he telling her? She couldn't hear, she could only drift further and further into those deep golden plains, as wide as the eye could see, she romped through them free as a bird, dashing through grain the same color as herself with her arms spread wide.

She ran and ran, but the sun was so warm and so nice on her fur; she was tiring fast. Sasha slowed a bit, looking for a clearing--there, over to the right, there was a nice place to lay down and rest. As she got closer and closer she slowed down even more, until eventually it felt like she was hardly moving at all; Sasha was surprised by how hard it was to keep her eyes open, to stay awake, but she knew that once she made it there she'd be able to sleep. When she finally did manage to lay down, she reflected for a moment--only a moment--that the flattened grain felt like it had a wet spot on the edge.

Sasha's body lay back on her bed, her eyes closed, as Dekhal positioned his member in front of her entrance. The lion's hands caressed her sleeping form gently, positioning her comfortably on the bed. He was still talking to her quietly as he prepared to mount her. He wanted to be ready when she was.

Sasha woke, feeling a little rested but not much. She was still in the field of grain, but that was normal enough. She was nude now, but had she had clothes while she was running? She couldn't remember. Dekhal was with her, watching her, and she understood that if he pleasured her, made her come, he'd be taking her, making her his, at the same time. It was only for now, not for ever, but for a little while at least she'd be his completely. Looking at him, standing over her, fascinated as she was by his cock and his face and his voice (was he talking? He didn't seem to be talking), how could she say no?

Sasha beckoned to him from on the bed, calling him to her, and Dekhal entered her smoothly, her unbelievably slick tunnel taking him in readily. The lynx let out a contented sigh/moan, her senses at once dulled by hypnosis and heightened by extreme need. She arched her back, pressing herself into him, feeling the grain stalks rub across her back as he pressed her back down, thrusting into her faster and faster, licking her breasts, playing with her nipples.

He leaned forward to nibble on her neck, pushing her against his mouth with his thrusting, deeper and deeper, so deep, Sasha wished there was some way she could see his eyes but his head was buried in her tits and she couldn't bear to move it. She squeezed him, spurring him on, she needed this too much to wait, she didn't care that she really was sliding down this time, that she would be his to toy with until he let her go. She wanted it too much; the lynx twined her tail around his, urging him onward.

His cock filled her completely, stretching her wide around it, teasing her with little studs. His teeth teased her neck, gently pricking it as he gripped her with his mouth for leverage, for his hands were too occupied with her breasts to do the job. Dekhal kneaded her tits, gently tracing claw tips over her furry mounds, flicking the nipples to distract her from the relentless strokes of his lionhood. It wasn't working. Her moans grew louder, more incoherent and frequent, and when he started to grunt it wasn't a moment too soon. The strokes came deeper, faster, more urgent; Dekhal stopped holding back and took her with all his might, thrusting into her, holding her still with his jaws, caressing her body, covering every inch of her with him inside and out.

Dekhal closed his eyes and roared, reverberating through her very soul, his claim rattling the bones in her neck as his cock sounded the return, spraying her insides with his seed. The little bumps rubbed over her clit as she screamed his name, wrapping her legs and arms around him, humping up against his member as much as she could, writhing into him and never wanting to let go. Sasha's eyes rolled back into her head as an avalanche of pleasure crashed over her, taking her down, deeper, so far down, into a deep golden sea of contentment and helplessness, letting her feel what she'd made Vicky and Marcus and so many others feel so often, surrendering her will in the throes of ecstasy.

* * *

The lynx stalked down the hall of doors. Doors to places, to times, to smells, to things and people and books; doors to Dekhal and to Candice, to stew and to tremors, to everything there was. A door for Karen and Sasha. A door for a rainy day, blurry and indistinct; a door for reinforcement, black and forbidding--she shied away from that one. These doors weren't what she was after. It was very important for her to find the right door, but she was confused. The door she was looking for didn't make sense. How could she find the door if it wasn't there because the thing the door was for didn't even exist?

Sasha turned again toward the black door. She couldn't help herself; she wanted to stay away, but something was urging her forward, making her go toward the thing she wanted to hide. It was important to know what was behind the door, but Sasha knew it was bad, but she didn't have a choice, she had to open the door, she didn't want to and she tried to stop but her hand raised inexorably, furry digits stretching out, claws clicking on the knob. She turned it, gods help her, but she turned it.

* * *

Elsewhere, the panthress held the male's head as he squirmed in his restraints. The more he writhed, the more his cock pumped inside her, but each time he let himself look at the panthress riding him his mind got a little weaker. He was tied down, he had to get away, but she was weighing him down and making him feel the most delicious things. He tried to wrench his head out of her grasp, to look away, but she held him fast and then her claws were peeling his eyelids open and he saw her, saw the way she was riding him, the way her perfect midnight breasts bounced softly up and down. As his struggling slowed she rode him faster, keeping the friction up, keeping his gaze on her tits. His eyes started to unfocus. Before long, she would have him completely.

Sooner or later he'd get free and take her instead, and the game would begin again.

* * *

Sasha huddled against herself, the tip of her tail covering her nose; she curled into a fetal position, trying to hide from everything. Her world was shaking, falling to bits, not making sense anymore. Something said it was sorry. How could it be sorry? She was alone in her room behind the black door, her face pressing against the wet spot on her bed, but she felt arms cradling her.

The spot on the bed was there, and yet it wasn't, because the sheets had been replaced--now where had that thought come from? She hadn't opened the door for replacing the sheets. Sasha began to stir, looking around critically, her mind beginning to clear--though it hadn't been fogged, had it? What was going on? She looked up and saw the ceiling of her room, but she saw Dekhal's face, too. He seemed so sad. He saw her looking at him and smiled a sorry smile, reached a hand out to stroke her head, smoothing the ruffled fur, talking to her gently. His face was gone but his eyes remained; the room spun, swirling slowly out of focus, falling away as she looked closer.

* * *

Sasha's mind slept and recovered from her ordeal, but her body and her senses were still working. The lynx was seated on the bed, legs dangling over the side, while Dekhal looked down at her and started to speak, telling her to do and feel things, and her body obeyed. She was staring straight at his cock; slowly, her hands reached out, caressing it, really exploring his maleness for the first time. The little bumps up and down the side that teased and drove her cunny mad, the silky texture it had when dry, and soon the smooth sensation of lubricated cock as her fingers nimbly worked him over, fondling his sack, teasing him back to hardness.

Her nose drifted forward, inhaling the scent, her body responding even if her mind was elsewhere. Dekhal growled encouragement and Sasha obeyed, taking part of his member into her mouth, wrapping a hand around the rest. Her predator's teeth raked lightly along the side as her raspy feline tongue massaged the bottom. Sasha's free hand strayed to her pussy unbidden in a small act of lustful rebellion, slipping in and out of her folds, her body greedy for pleasure. Dekhal cupped the back of her head, playing with her ears, and began to gently thrust into her head. She moaned instinctively, something about the act starting to rouse her from her stupor, but then his cock was spurting and she was swallowing his seed and her senses joined her mind in oblivion.

* * *

"Wake up, darling, for a moment only."

"Hm?" He blinked, surprised to find his face buried in a jet-black muff, more surprised to find he'd stopped licking it. "What is it?"

"Look on camera sixteen. What do you see?"

"Now that's interesting. I do so hope they give the two of them to us."

"Indeed." She grasped his ears gently, tilting his head up to look at her. "Down you go, Sebastian, while you're still too weak to stop yourself. Enraptured by my breasts, completely enthralled by their perfection, taken back into trance. You've done this so many times and your mind wants it so badly that you can't help but obey me. There's still some juice left in my pussy. You will do something about that."

* * *

His eyes were slowly shifting, all the colors of the rainbow playing in a specific pattern on the contact lenses he wore. It was the most fascinating thing in the world, it was the _only_thing in the world, some part of her knew they were just toys but she couldn't stop staring at them, hunched slightly forward, swaying a little from side to side as Dekhal moved his head back and forth.

He reached out slowly and took hold of her breasts, kneading them in his hands, but she didn't care. The pleasure of his touch was nothing compared to the waves of pure sexual bliss the colors gave her. This specific pattern of colors tugged at something engineered deep, deep in her psyche, as deep as instinct itself, and she had to stare, helplessly aroused and aroused to be helpless. The lion's eyes were so amazing, so mesmerizing, she hardly even noticed when he sat on the edge of her bed and took her to him, sliding her down onto his cock. His slow thrusting pushed her up and she tried to go down, he pulled back and she went up, trying, needing to stare into the colors, only vaguely aware of sex.

The contact lenses were an imperfect imitation. Whoever wore them could still see the colors, if faintly; the experience was still intensely erotic, if not hypnotic. They came with a warning not to use them too often, lest the victim become addicted. Dekhal hadn't used them before--he must not have, because when the recommended first time was up, he switched them off, still thrusting away into Sasha's snatch, convinced they were both too far to care. But as the lights faded, Sasha began to wake, and when she found herself fully conscious and riding her lion, she began to purr.

She'd rode the colors before and knew their foibles. They were a powerful hypnotic aide, yes, but the conditioning that made them work was written into anthro DNA from when they were first engineered, and it included the walk back to consciousness--when the colors stopped, the person would follow the instructions hammered into their subconscious a long time ago. They would wake up unless they were commanded otherwise while in the trance.

His hips were still rolling away, thrusting himself deep inside her, and gods, it felt _really_good, but her mind was her own. He would protect her as she had first instructed him, she would be safe in his arms, and so on--in that respect, his instructions held, and she was still his. But he could be hers in a different way, couldn't he? His eyes were closed and his face had the most serene look on it.

Sasha grinned and put her hands on his shoulders, gently guiding his thrusting into a slower, even rhythm. She didn't want either of them cumming too early. That shouldn't be too hard, given that she remembered them fucking recently a couple times and that they probably had lots of sex that she didn't remember. Just even thrusts, nice and slow, more lovemaking than rutting, guiding him along, making sure he was following her lead. She licked her thumbs and grasped his chest, lightly running her thumbs in circular paths over his nipples, the same speed as the sex.

It was tempting to just lose herself in the pleasure, to just enjoy the act, but she had a lion to tame. After a few more moments of lazy bliss, she let his chest go and leaned onto him, whispering into his ear. "Deeper... deeper... deeper," with each thrust, counting on Dekhal to do what the horny part of his brain wanted him to do anyway. Somewhere along the line he figured out what she was doing, but he didn't stop her. He favored her with a vacant smile instead, letting his mind go, surrendering to the pleasure.

* * *

The panthress pushed back against her mate, on all fours on her bed, her claws digging into the blankets. Sebastian's tongue swirled around and around her clit, fingers of one hand pumping into her snatch, his other hand stroking his cock, already slick with his own cum but she hadn't told him to stop. Her tail trashed around his head, its thumping complimenting her throaty moans and purred commands for deeper, more, harder, to make her cum and then he could finally mount her, take her during her high and drive her tits into the bed and fuck her and never stop.

* * *

Sasha fingered her clit, rubbed over her fur, luxuriating in the feel of Dekhal hilted inside her. She'd taken his contacts and had them on. The taste of the colors he'd given her wasn't enough, she wanted more, and the way Dekhal was staring at her slack-jawed was sending the most delicious feelings coursing through her body. She knew he was staring at the colors, following conditioning built into his very DNA, but some part of her wanted her to believe it was her that had him so completely enthralled.

She ground her hips into his, fucking herself on his cock, sliding up and down the bumpy lionhood in a euphoric stupor, telling Dekhal things, making him play with her tits, running his strong hands over her fur, flicking her nipples with his claws. He'd do it anyway, but she could have told him to do anything at all and as long as he could see the colors he'd do it.

She told him to say it. He moaned, and she repeated the command. "...anthing..." What was that? She couldn't hear him. "Anthing... wll do anthing...want... watch the colrrrssssss..." Again. "ll do anthing yuu wannt." She pulled his hands off her tits, replaced them with hers, needing to touch herself.

"Cum for me Dekhal, cum as hard as you've ever came, feel the pleasure wash your mind away." His hips bucked suddenly, thrusting up into her so hard she gasped, his manhood spasming deep inside her. "You can't stop cumming, more and more and more, even after your cock stops you're still in orgasm, again and again and again." He began to pant, eyes half-lidded, growling and moaning, his head lolling about but always maintaining eye contact.

Sasha struggled to keep talking between her own moans and gasps. "Your vision is starting to fade, you're blacking out, down and down you go, cumming and cumming, can't stop, don't want to stop, cumming for meeeeeeeee!" Her cunt grabbed him and wouldn't let go as she arched her back, her tits lifting his head, her pussy twitching around his member as she added her juices to his.

The contacts turned off automatically; a good thing, too, because neither of them were in a position to do it themselves. Sasha was still exhausted from her ordeal, and hypnotic suggestions that she feel refreshed did nothing to change the underlying reality. She'd commanded Dekhal into unconsciousness, but the pleasant afterglow and resurgent exhaustion convinced her to sleep.

* * *

"Feel me in you, Maria. Feel me thrusting into your body, into your soul. I'm taking you. I'm making you mine. You feel this way because you know it's right and you can't stop it, don't want to stop it." Sebastian gripped the panthress's shoulders, pinning her to her bed, looking down at her as he fucked her. She had her finger curled in her mouth to keep from crying out. He knew just how she liked it, down to where to put his hands to keep her still. Her moans and her squirming was the only visible sign, but he knew her mind was aflame.

She was trying not to give him what he wanted, but it was a futile gesture. "I deserve you. I'm better, stronger, you know in your core that you should be my lover, my mate, but above all, mine. If I told you to grab my prick while I mate you, to get our juices on your hand, to taste us, you couldn't stop yourself, could you?" She didn't reply. He took his hand off her and grabbed himself, fucking his hand and her until his fingers were good and soaked. He held it in front of her nose, careful not to let his gaze linger long on her chest.

"Smell that, Maria. You can feel the scent tug at your psyche, pull at your very soul. You know this is right. Taste it, Maria. Lick my hand clean. You're mine, you'll always be mine, and when you get that taste in your mouth your instincts will take over." Her hand dropped away and her tongue darted out of its own accord, licking the matted fur on his hand, tasting the sex, and as she cleaned it off her eyes started to glaze over, her body betraying her will. She started to fuck him back. Not much, she steadied herself when she could, trying to resist, to make herself stronger, but it was a losing battle. Before long, she was moaning openly and bucking her hips, begging for more.

* * *

Sasha's eyes fluttered open reluctantly. She'd been having the most pleasant dream of something she didn't remember; it was a small metal structure, and it had various creatures on it, only they weren't real, and she was riding one--not in a sexy way, but in a fun way, and it was going around and around, but then everything had started to shake and Dekhal's hands were on her shoulders and she was in her bed and he was shaking her awake. "Mmrrh... what is it?"

Dekhal pointed at the door. It was open, Candice was standing in front of it, she was naked, her mouth was slack, her eyes were vacant, and she was playing with her tits. "Is this your doing?" The lion's rumble was a mix of confusion and mirth.

Sasha shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs out. "No. Well, maybe. Candi, what are you doing here?" Dekhal took the opportunity to get dressed, pulling on his uniform tunic, then sitting on the edge of the bed next to Sasha to start on the pants.

"21-84 commanded me to come," both Dekhal and the doe moaned as she said the numbers. Candice's hips bucked into the open air, her already-moist pussy lips sparkling with fresh juices; Dekhal became rock hard almost instantly. "...to this room if Sasha was in danger."

"Danger? And 21-84? Isn't that what you--" Dekhal's gutteral moan interrupted her; his head was thrown back, his eyes were closed, and his dick was pumping rope after rope of his seed up into the air, droplets of cum spattering on his thighs, the pants of his uniform still around his ankles. Candice was quieter, but her blissful expression and the trail of wetness making its way down the inside of her thigh told her story. "I guess so."

The lion panted, a surprised look on his face. "I don't know what came over me, but when you said--when she said those numbers, I had the most intense feeling, and when you did it again so soon..." He shrugged, motioning at the mess he'd made, before grumbling and hobbling over to the sink to clean himself.

Sasha went to the door and guided Candice into the room, "Candi, what danger am I in?"

"They're on their way." Her words were slowing, becoming harder to understand. Candice might have started out sleepwalking, but she was putting herself farther under, rubbing her nipples in familiar circles, giving herself the submission and entrancement she was addicted to.

Sasha met Dekhal's glance. "Then let's go. If they catch us, they'll wipe the both of us anyway. What have we got to lose?"

The lion nodded. "There's something going on here that we don't understand, and I definitely want to know more." He motioned at Candice, then pulled up his pants. "What should we do about her?" The doe was kneeling at Sasha's feet, one hand in her cunny and the other rubbing one of her breasts.

Sasha knelt down in front of her friend. "Candice, can you hear me?" The doe moaned and nodded. "Who are you entranced for?"

"21-84." She gasped when she said it and her fingers moved faster, her masturbation making wet sounds clearly audible to anyone in the room. Dekhal moaned through clenched teeth--when Sasha turned to look, she saw a massive tent had formed in his trousers, but thankfully no attendant wet spot. From the look of concentration on Dekhal's face, it was a testament to his willpower that his pants were still dry.

Sasha turned back to the doe and smiled. "And Sasha too, right?" She grasped Candice's free tit gently, rubbing her thumb through the tuft of white fur around the nipple. "So you'll come with us when we go, right? You've been longer without a wipe than us, we might need your help." Candice nodded vacantly.

Sasha continued. "But you'll have to wake out of trance, just a little, you'll still be cloudy and submissive, but you'll be able to speak normally and wear clothing and you won't touch yourself constantly. Ok?" Dekhal stood by the door, at attention in more than one way, the scene on the floor in front of him affecting him as much as the trigger numbers had. Sasha stood, ready to leave, and Candice followed her up.

The doe's voice was practiced. "I obey 21-84." Dekhal moaned hotly, the tent in his pants twitching, but soon enough the groan became an angry roar as a mighty wet patch formed at the peak of his tent.

Sasha's ears were flat back. How unfair! Seeing him cum purely on trigger, twice, plus being next to a naked, entranced, moaning, extremely lovely and openly masturbating doe were driving Sasha wild, but there was no time to get relief. She'd get them for this, but they had to leave. Dekhal had already pulled his tunic out of his pants, letting it drape over the stain.

Sasha, Dekhal, and Candice left her quarters, heading to Candice's room to get the doe some clothing. As they walked, the lights in the corridors changed from white to a soft blue, then a soft red. The lynx and her companions walked faster, their footfalls echoing down the strangely empty corridor. Candi was leading, and the way her naked ass sashayed even while the doe was entranced was giving Sasha the most delicious torment. The little flag-tail was bobbing so--

The world exploded. Sasha's ears were ringing, she couldn't hear anything, she could barely see, it had been so bright, Candice was a good ten feet in front of her, sprawled on the floor, she couldn't see Dekhal, then Sasha was flying, pulled through the air. There was a roaring through the ringing, wind all around her, then an electric hum; Sasha slammed into something, her whole body ached from the impact.

The lynx stood slowly, rubbing her head. In front of her was a ten-foot wide, four-foot deep hole in the hallway. Rubble was on the floor all around her. In front of her, where the wall used to be, was a shimmering blue curtain of light. Behind that were stars.