FSE

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Sierra wasn't the type to go out on a date without doing a little preparation beforehand, but this time, she spent less of her evening fussing with her makeup.

She was more concerned with getting the words to a certain phrase just right: before she even arrived at the restaurant, she was titillated with the idea of just how pliable her date would become when she put her new skills to the test.

"She won't be able to leave your side if she doesn't have a choice..."

**

As the owner of her own garage in the middle of the dessert, Sierra never felt right wearing anything fancier than a comfortable shirt and _clean_jeans. Her daily attire was a pair of overalls that were rarely washed, and a ratty, old t-shirt beneath that had almost as many holes as a piece of swiss cheese.

That night, she broke out the little black dress that she'd been planning to surprise Leo with...but she was starting to give up hope on ever seeing him again, a month after his unannounced disappearance.

She was doing all she could not to let the handsome jackal influence her decisions, but she thought she was falling hard for a girl that she'd met downtown in Tucson; she wasn't going to let another one slip through her fingers if she had anything to say about it.

"Okay, she's on her way back from the restroom. When she sits down, take her paws, stroke the middle digit once or twice, utter the implanted phrase...and she'll never want to leave you. She'll be your little plaything to keep at your side until you snap your fingers," Sierra repeated the instructions to herself, having learned a spot of hypnosis from a quick, online guide.

It was perhaps the worst place she could have gone to learn such a thing, but the coyote was of a desperate mind in the absence of the only man she'd ever trusted. Despite her best efforts, Leo was perverting the intentions of her every move, and the gorgeous cheetah that sat down across from her was completely innocent in the whole affair.

"Sorry that I took so long," she murmured, as she politely eased back into her seat. The dim lights of the restaurant made it tough for Sierra to be sure, but her eyes were clearly a little irritated. "I think I put on a little too much mascara, and then it smeared a little, and...I just couldn't get my eye to stop watering."

She wasn't making up a cover story for hidden tears: Rebecca was a genuinely shy person, and the same way that Sierra spent plenty of time practicing her hypnotic routine, the cheetah spent even more time than that perfecting her look in the mirror.

When she overdid the makeup and worried about turning Sierra off with it, she almost cancelled.

"You're a natural beauty," Sierra whispered to her, keeping a soft and comforting tone in her usually brash and genuine voice. "You don't need all that makeup anyway, Rebecca."

The cheetah's paws were resting just forward enough on the table that Sierra was able to reach out and rest her own upon the intertwined bundle of digits. Rebecca went stiff and wilted her ears, but as she glanced down at the touch, she followed Sierra's narrow limbs up to the delicate slope of her shoulders, and finally, back to her calming stare.

One stroke...two strokes...three strokes, and she's out...

To take advantage of someone through any means was something that Sierra convinced herself she'd never do. She prided herself on being an honest woman and a good person, but her mind was still in a state of turmoil, and her physical need for affection spoke louder than her better judgment.

She wasn't thrilled with herself at the truest level, but in the moment, she was wearing a sickly grin. "It looks like you didn't sleep very well last night, Rebecca. Perhaps you would feel a little better if you came back to my place to rest up for a while?"

The way she held Rebecca's stare was crucial to the hypnosis taking effect, but as regret crept through her touch, it expelled itself in the form of a final stroke of her pawtip over Rebecca's middle knuckle: exactly one more touch than she was instructed to give.

Without doing her research on the finer points of what could go wrong if she did anything differently than the video instructed, Sierra thought that she'd gotten away with it when Rebecca's blue diamond stare lidded over.

"I'd absolutely love to take things back to your place," she replied, speaking in a tone that was sharper than the soft, underwhelming tone she'd carried all night. "But I don't think either one of us will be resting, Sierra."

The coyote shifted her thighs together at the prospect of what she'd be able to talk Rebecca into while she was under hypnosis, but she didn't have the pliable, flexible look to her face that the video told her to expect.

Instead, Rebecca looked like she was the one making the demands, rather than hearing them.

"Shall I call for our check, then?"

"My drink was more expensive," Rebecca argued. "Let me treat you, Sierra: after all, you're the one opening your home to me tonight."

Something had clearly gone wrong in the process of starting the spell, but Sierra was desperate for contact, at that point. There was a hole left in her heart that this night of passion wouldn't fill...but like a cactus in the desert, she knew it was better than nothing.

If it got her to the next oasis, she was going to devour the whole thing; she just didn't know how much the great mind across from her shared the same thought process.

**

Though she'd heard her name dragged through the mud a few times, Sierra wasn't nearly as promiscuous as others thought her to be.

The number of people who were fortunate enough to see her garage after hours could be counted on one hand, and even among that count, those who were able to convince her to come all the way out of her overalls were a very select few.

With her intentions for the evening obvious and her target under full hypnosis, she didn't see any point to hesitating. The drive back was quiet enough; she didn't expect a hypnotized feline to say much to begin with, but when they arrived at the garage, flipped the lights on and locked the front door, Sierra was already thinking of how she'd put the tools in the garage to use so she could explore the cheetah's body and force her to squeal.

She needed to hear that sound of whimpering pleasure...but she wasn't expecting to hear it from herself anytime soon. Long nights spent up with a vibrator and a longer, thicker toy weren't producing the chorus of moans that they used to.

Rebecca was brought into the picture to change all of that, but when she wrapped her paws around Sierra from behind and pressed her claws into the coyote's dress, she made it clear that she'd go about it her way.

"H-hey!" Sierra giggled, feeling the embrace from behind and only sensing affection at first, she tried to look back over her shoulder at Rebecca. The cheetah stood a fair bit taller than she did, but Sierra still believed herself to be the dominant party...until those curious, roaming paws came to rest on her breasts with a firm grip. "Uhm...c-can I help you, kitty?"

"Kitty?"

Sierra didn't wear her little black dress all that often. Since opening her garage, she could think of only three occasions where she even wanted to wear it, and only two where she actually went through with it.

She was still furious when she felt claws raking through the silky fabric, and then, right against her fur as tears formed in the bust. She trembled with regretful delight as those little daggers raked over her skin and set her nerves ablaze, but just one dominant touch would have been enough for her to know that something had gone wrong.

One paw moved up toward her throat and cupped it with a touch that was just strong enough to leave the coyote in a panic. The other drifted to the bottom of her dress, where it found her pubic mound completely barren of any other cover: moisture was already spreading over bare, eager folds as they were touched.

"If you wanna be able to walk when this is all over, you won't call me kitty ever again."

Just because she knew something was wrong didn't mean that Sierra would be able to identify what that thing was, and she even less confident that she could fix it.

People, unfortunately, were a lot more complicated and less familiar to her than machines were.

"I dunno w-who the hell you think you are, tearing my dress like that...b-but this is not how this night was supposed to go!"

"And just how did you want it to go, then? You're already soaking my palm, and you're trembling like a needy little bitch, so what exactly would you have me do differently?"

It wasn't the first time, especially recently, that Sierra found herself on the wrong side of the sexual coin.

The ghost hands that had filled her garage with perversion made it clear that they wanted to take the lead, and now, her hypnotic spell had completely backfired on her, leaving her on the receiving end of a domineering struggle. Though she was much stronger than her petite frame would imply, she didn't have a chance in hell of overpowering someone that was so much larger; the hypnosis that dictated Rebecca's every move was enhancing her strength, to boot.

For a moment, brief as it was, Sierra felt genuine panic at the concept of not being able to break free from the cheetah that she'd welcomed into her home.

"I was supposed t-to be...the one on top," Sierra did her best to gasp out the words, as new pressure against her throat made it difficult to breathe, much less to speak. "N...not you."

The amount of effort it took for her to utter those words was herculean, but it'd pale in comparison to the ringer that Rebecca put her through for even daring to question the feline's authority.

"You? On top?" Rebecca asked, holding Sierra in place with just the one paw at the base of her chin. "You're still wracked over some boy that is never going to come back for you, and you really think that you could ever top me? That you could ever top anyone?"

Sierra didn't realize how much of her mind was opened to Rebecca when she attempted the hypnotic spell: when she gasped that time, it was of pure, emotional agony.

For how strongly she reacted, from the tears that welled up in the corners of her eyes, to the way that she trembled helplessly at the thought of never seeing Leo again, Rebecca didn't offer her even a modicum of sympathy.

"It would have been bad enough that you tried to take control of me for the night, but to do it when he was still on your mind...to disrespect me by letting anyone else dominate your thoughts...do you have any idea what an insult that is to me?"

The coyote was silent. Rebecca had probed so deep into her mind that there were no secrets left, and all told, Sierra had no one to blame but herself for coming so unraveled.

Whether it was a terrible curse, or a hidden blessing that Rebecca would have no sympathy for her, she was still trying to decide...but she'd already made up her mind about one thing.

I deserve whatever she does to me, she thought. No matter how cruel it is...

Her mind was still mixed up by Leo's perceived slight, but there was an honesty in the words of the hypnotized cheetah: the least she could do was genuinely give herself over to whoever was taking up her time, even if it was just for the night.

She didn't think the spell would last any longer than that, but even if she did, she'd accept it as a hopefully pleasant surprise.

"I didn't mean to...t-to insult you," Sierra admitted. She wanted to pretend that she wasn't sniffling with emotional turmoil, but even at that sound, there was no mercy to be had for her.

As far as Rebecca was concerned, there was no excuse for the coyote forgetting her title already.

"And yet, you just did it again," Rebecca claimed. "What's my name, you little slut?"

"R...Rebecca?"

As soon as the words left her muzzle, Sierra realized her mistake, but she'd already uttered the phrase again. She wasn't at all surprised to feel the rest of her dress ripped away from her body, but her disappointment was boiling over: the one fancy garment that she owned was now in tatters on the floor, with her naked body quivering in the middle of it all.

She wasn't cold in the least, but her body was nervous at what punishment was waiting for her; her mind was nervous that she might actually enjoy it.

"Mistress Rebecca," the cheetah corrected her, "And that was your last strike, little girl."

There was just enough of a difference in their size that Rebecca was able to lift the coyote all the way from the floor, with the aid of her other arm.

The bedroom wouldn't suffice as a place of punishment, but in the garage, there were sure to be all kinds of creative means for the cheetah to exact her revenge. As she pushed the door open, using Sierra's back as a cushion, Rebecca looked over her head and her flattened ears, ignoring the visible discomfort of the smaller creature.

Sierra was still having trouble deciding if she was happy for the punishment, but her self-worth was so deflated that she didn't think she deserved any better treatment. There was still an overt sexuality to the moment, and in her melodrama, the coyote put herself in the role of a sad, abused submissive, far more than the spell actually called for.

Thanks to that, she felt more than a degree of pleasure when she was pushed up to one of the storage racks and held there. With one paw around her neck and another upon her arm, she struggled to breathe, but what little air she could draw was stolen from her in the form of a deep, greedy kiss, as Rebecca pressed her muzzle in tight and kept Sierra pinned.

The already gathering moisture between the coyote's thighs dripped all the way down to her knees as Rebecca treated her to something that she didn't know she needed.

Physically, it stopped at being a kiss, but mentally, it was part of something so much more: as Sierra quivered and clawed at the air with her one free paw, she felt a comforting warmth inside at being desired so completely that someone would go to such a length to have her. She knew it was all part of a spell, but she could put that knowledge aside temporarily and embrace the bliss that came with her ignorance.

At that moment, Rebecca was no longer a date, but a ravenous customer that decided she wanted to pay for an auto service with sweat and flesh, rather than dollars and cents.

"You think a date with anyone else would have gone this well?" Rebecca asked, keeping her lips in close and raking the tips of her fangs against Sierra's tender flesh. "Do you really think anyone else deserves a spot in your heart the way that I do?"

She wasn't playing at her heartstrings, but Sierra could feel the cheetah reaching at something more intimate than that, as increased pressure left the smaller woman lightheaded. Her trembling was about to stop when she felt the grip around her neck go loose, and slowly, her body slumped to the floor; she would have blacked out if she were allowed to stay on her feet.

"I can't forgive that kind of arrogance from you, Sierra. I can punish it all night and have a damn fine time doing it, but I simply can't forgive it."

Like a sinner that was finally waking up to the reality of their crimes, Sierra was past the point of trying to earn forgiveness, no matter who it was coming from.

When she felt a zip-tie around her neck, and the tightened pressure of it around the shelf behind her, she didn't put up a fuss. She could have done so much more than that to make it harder for Rebecca, but she found herself wanting the cheetah to have an easy time with the setup.

She was eager to get right to her punishment, even if she was barely processing everything that was happening above her.

"And to think you fancied yourself as a dominant personality," the cheetah teased. She lifted Sierra's limp, uncaring wrists and gave them the same treatment, tying them down to the shelf behind her and leaving only her legs free to wiggle on the garage floor. "You can't see it, but there's a new lust in your eyes, little girl...as if you were hoping to botch that spell all along!" to

Sierra's lower lip dropped open just a tiny bit. "N...no," she tried to argue, but the words were hardly audible. "That isn't-

Warm and covered, Rebecca lowered her crotch right into Sierra's face and humped right at the end of her open muzzle, silencing any protests before they had a chance to start. "If that's really the best you can do with your voice, you might as well put your mouth to work some other way," Rebecca muttered, as if she was genuinely frustrated with how the evening was going. "You're just lucky that I've got some very creative ways to keep you interesting."

The whole experience was a new one for Sierra, who never found herself on the bottom end of anything without her complete consent. If everything were to come to a sudden halt right then, she'd beg Rebecca to keep going, but the sound would have been muffled all the same: warm, moist panties were grinding against her nose and filling her nostrils with a scent of need, intoxicating what was left of her conscious mind.

Do whatever it takes to please your mistress, she thought. Whatever she does to you, she does because she loves you...

Rose-colored lenses couldn't be lifted from her view, but just in the corner of each eye, Sierra could see the tiniest flicker of her reality; she completely ignored it as the minutes carried on, and the moisture of her tongue bled through the soft, thin fabric of her lover's panties.

"Won't be able to get very deep inside with such a small tongue," Rebecca thought aloud, tapping her chin as she did. "Oh well...you'll just have to give it a little muzzle grease, hm?"

The expression was fitting, but the execution was cruel: Rebecca yanked her own panties down from under her skirt, but as she watched Sierra pant helplessly against the rack, she felt no sympathy for the clearly defeated creature.

The sight spurred her on to new cruelty, as she stuffed the messy cotton of her panties right in Sierra's muzzle, keeping it spread around clothing that proved to be more than a mouthful to her.

"You didn't think I was being facetious, did you?" Rebecca asked. With her womanhood bare under her skirt, she settled down right on the bridge of Sierra's muzzle and started to grind, rubbing her mound back and forth on the small, narrow strip and giving herself an intimate feel of every ridge in the unique shape. "But since you seem to be a little short on muzzle grease, I'm more than happy to provide some!"

Moisture was gathering on her petals back at the restaurant, but with their date completely derailed, Rebecca's genuine personality had taken a backseat to her hypnosis, and her body followed suit.

She was aroused at her date, but was much too bashful to admit such a thing to Sierra's face.

What she had become was a woman that not only wasn't afraid to admit it, but she was eager to see the lustful gaze of Sierra's eyes roll back as slick, feminine juices were worked into a long, narrow muzzle.

The excess was starting to dribble down and soak into the panties that still stuffed the coyote's maw before too long, and the scent was the new reality of the air Sierra breathed: with only her nostrils to draw air through, she took in more of Rebecca's unique aroma with every breath she drew.

All told, she was just clinging to consciousness and fighting for air, but between her legs, moisture was spilling over with such quantity that she could feel a tiny strand dripping from the very bottom of her petals to the cool, unforgiving concrete of the floor.

I shouldn't be turned on by this, she thought. I shouldn't be enjoying any of this...even if I should, I don't deserve to enjoy any of this, do I?

For all the merciless behavior she showed the night before, Rebecca's next act made it clear that she didn't agree with Sierra's unspoken bemoaning.

"Looks like you've sprung a leak, little mechanic. I'd ask you for advice about how to fix that, but it looks like you're kinda busy; guess I'll just have to try something until I find out what works!"

The shelves behind Sierra were full of different tools that were kept immaculately clean, but none of them were intended to be used in a sexual sense.

With the coyote sitting in the nude beneath her, Rebecca simply couldn't resist putting them to work, and Sierra, in her daze, couldn't find the words or the breathing room to discourage such lewd behavior.

She was actually moaning when she felt the cold, familiar steel of a wrench gliding between the soft, pouted folds of her sex.

"Feels like I'm just making it worse...and yet, I don't think that you mind at all, do you?" Rebecca asked. As much as she demanded affirmation, she reached back and tugged out her panties just a little bit, knowing Sierra wouldn't need too much room to reply. "Just admit that you enjoy being a submissive little slut, Sierra...tell me that this is the real you, and I'll push that wrench right up against your clit; we both know you want me to."

Getting a full breath through her maw and feeling the steel against her cleft in the same moment was already such an overwhelming sensation that Sierra cried out from it, but along with that air came awareness: she was being asked to lie about who she was, all for the sake of getting off.

Perhaps, of course, a facet of her had been uncovered, but Sierra prided herself on honesty when it came to running her business. In her life, that had always extended to the way she carried herself in the bedroom, and it made her terribly difficult to hold down for more than a little while.

She's hypnotized anyway, Sierra thought, accepting that none of the encounter was a real thing. If this is her mind lying to me, then...

"Please, p-push it in further," Sierra begged, as she twitched against the plastic of her bondage. "Push it right against the real me... show me the real me, mistress..."

It wasn't exactly what Rebecca asked to hear, and Sierra couldn't remember the exact order, anyway, but as she regained more and more of her consciousness, she felt the wrench gliding up and pressing back against the hood of her clit. The nub was pressed flat under the weight of the handle, and from that bit of teasing alone, she felt a tiny gush of feminine ejaculate escape the top of her petals.

As those juices trickled down the top of Rebecca's knuckles, she looked back at the trapped, exhausted coyote and smirked. Her wrist started moving once again, and Sierra, caught off guard, let out a high-pitched squeal of delight.

"You're lucky I'm feeling generous," Rebecca murmured. "I know you can beg better than that, but...I wanna see the look on your face when you realize what you've really gotten yourself into."