Mushy Brain
There's nothing quite like being weak for me, is there? That feeling of your willpower, your dignity, everything draining right out of you. How many of my trance videos have you watched? And every single time, my power just takes you over. It doesn't take much at all, does it?
Watch me put on this lip gloss. Watch my lips form each word. Your brain is turning to mush, isn't it? I snap my fingers and you fall down the rabbit hole, soft, pliable, compliant. Having a thought of your own is like swimming through oatmeal, and you don't need thoughts anyway. Five, four, three, two, one. Let me think for you. Let me make all your choices. Now touch yourself, and while you do, open up your wallet and send me a tribute. Right now. Feel that rush when it goes through? Send again. Stroke faster. Send one more if you want to be allowed to cum. Say it with me: My brain is mush, Goddess.
Thinking is a privilege you no longer get.