Caged Kitten
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2016 by Meatbot

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Teen girl is imprisoned by one of her perverted neighbors.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   NonConsensual   Rape   Hypnosis   Fiction   Light Bond   First   Oral Sex  

It was midnight. He was keeping her up late. Sleep deprivation was part of his plan to make her more pliable. But his secret weapon? Hypnosis. He had read somewhere that girls were more suggestible than boys. He hoped that this was true. He knew that it was probably a bit early, that her spirit wasn’t really broken yet, when he figured that she would be at her most suggestible. But, he thought he’d try it.

He had his lucky watch, his grandfather’s old railroad watch. He had read dozens of books on the subject, and probably was actually fairly knowledgeable on it.

However, once again, at school, Stormi had studied under a teacher who chose eclectic subjects at times. One of them had been hypnosis. He had even hypnotized several students until a parent had complained and the school board had gotten involved and told him to stop. She was actually fairly knowledgeable about it, too. She knew enough to pretend, at least.

First, he got her to scoot the table over a bit, and sit in the chair right in front of the ventilation holes. She sat there meekly, already suspecting what he was planning on. She didn’t realize it was hypnotism yet, but she knew he was up to something.

He kept losing his train of thought, seeing the naked girl in front of him. He kept remembering the feeling of her body beneath his hands, and the taste of her on his tongue. She was sexy personified to him. He wanted to taste her, again. He wanted to touch her, again. He wanted her bad.

He sat his chair right in front of her, tearing his eyes off her tits. Her beautiful, beautiful tits. He forced himself back to the subject at hand. He drew the watch and long chain out of his pocket, and held it up, by the clasp.

“Stormi. Please focus your attention on the watch,” he said. He began to swing it back and forth. He gave it ten or fifteen swings, and then said, “you are growing sleepy...”

Oh god, she thought, is this a joke? She just couldn’t believe he thought this crap would work. Part of what she’d read on the subject said you couldn’t be hypnotized if you didn’t want to, and she sure didn’t want to. But, she saw advantages if she pretended to be. Maybe he would open the door without handcuffing her. Stuff like that. He might even take her out of the cell, or even let her go upstairs if he thought she was in his control.

She followed the watch with her eyes. Back and forth, back and forth. His voice droned. She still didn’t feel the slightest bit hypnotized, although she wasn’t sure what it would feel like anyway. She finally let her mouth fall open, and a minute later she pushed some slobber out with her tongue. She felt a long trail of drool land on her leg. She hoped she was putting on a convincing show.

She was. He almost cackled with glee. This was working way better than he’d ever planned. She was sitting slackly in the chair, with a mindless expression on her face. Drool dripped off her chin. Her mouth hung open. He kept going for a while, and then stopped and just stared at her.

“Stormi,” he said, “Grasp your breasts in your hands. Pull them out, and show them to me.”

Shit, shit, shit, she thought. Well, I’ve gone this far. But shit. She didn’t want to put on a little show for him, she wanted out of the cage. But, she’d decided on this path. She’d play it through.

She did what he asked, grasped a breast in each hand, squeezing, and pulled them up and out. She tried her best to keep the same stupid look on her face that she’d had. He wasn’t looking at her face, of course.

Her tits looked so sexy to him, all squeezed like that. The nipples really stood out, this way. I did that, he thought. I made her do that.

“Stormi. Stand up.” She stood, slowly, her face never changing. He cackled.

“Stormi. Turn around.” She turned completely around, ending up facing him again. He made a face.

“Stormi. Turn halfway around.” She did, and he stared at her fine ass, his mouth watering. He remembered the taste of her. Suddenly, it seemed within reach, again.

“Stormi. Bend over.” There was some slight hesitation, there. He figured that her subconscious was fighting with her conscious, or something. He didn’t care, as long as she did it. And, she did it. She bent at the waist, spreading her ass cheeks slightly.

“Spread your ass with your hands.” He said. She didn’t move. He repeated the command, louder. Shit, he thought. The fun is starting, and she freezes on me. Then he remembered to say her name.

“Stormi. Spread your ass with your hands.” He said, and she complied. He did giggle out loud then, and leaned forward, staring at her beautiful asshole.

God, she thought. I hope this is worth it. The goddam pervert. She felt cheap and dirty, and weirdly, a little turned on, too. Everything just kind of ran together in her mind. She did feel naughty, though. She wondered how long he’d keep her like this. She already felt a little dizzy, with her head down and her ass in the air.

“Stormi. Move to the window.” He said. She stood, and turned, and walked around the cell aimlessly. She almost giggled, just because she was fucking with him. He finally figured out what the problem was.

“Stormi. Move to the food slot.” He said, and she walked right to the clear plastic wall, and stood directly in front of the food slot. He just let her stand there for a while, staring at her. She was so beautiful, so perfect ... he deserved her ... she deserved him ... he felt vindicated. This was the right thing to do, he knew it.

He hesitantly reached his hand in the slot, and touched her pubic mound, right above the split of her pussy. He watched her carefully, but she didn’t move. She just stood there, the same slack-jawed expression on her face. He traced down the slit a ways, and stuck his finger inside the folds of her pussy. He pulled it out, and sniffed it. God, she smelled good. Good and strong, no bath in a week. She smelled like pussy magnum, or something. He couldn’t think of a way to describe it. He stuck his finger in again, and rubbed it up and down her slit. She felt damp and greasy to him. He loved it. He sniffed his finger again, and rubbed it again. He knew he would never get tired of this. He finally just made himself stop. He kicked himself mentally for making the food slot three inches too high.

“Stormi. Turn around.”

She did, all the way around, ending up like she was to start with. How literal she is, he thought.

“Turn half way around.” He could play the game, though.

Shit. She didn’t move.

“Stormi. Turn half way around.” That did it. Now her fine, fabulous ass was presented to him. He reached through the slot, cussing it for being so high. He finally pulled the chair right up to the slot, and sat in the chair on his knees, with his whole arm in the slot. He caressed her sweet ass, and ran his fingers up and down her ass-crack.

“Stormi. Bend over and spread your cheeks with your hand.”

Shit. She did just that, putting her hands on her face, and pulling on her cheeks.

“Stormi. Bend over and spread your ass cheeks with your hand.” This was actually tiresome, at times, he thought. But rewarding.

He stared at her ass, from just inches away. He could smell it, this close. She smelled utterly fantastic to him. His mouth watered. He plastered his hand into her ass-crack, running it up and down, and then scrabbling it on her sweet asshole. He rubbed and caressed her little asshole, loving the feel of it beneath his fingers. It felt damp, too. Maybe it was just sweaty. He didn’t care. He rubbed it some more, bringing his hand to his nose every now and then for a sniff. For a heavenly sniff.

She was pretty tired of this shit, by now. But she wanted to convince him that his trick had worked. She wanted to trick the trickster. She fucked with him, but she also was trying her best to be completely literal, like she understood people under hypnosis were. She felt like she’d done a pretty good job of it. He seemed to be fooled. She wondered when he’d let her out of the cage. If she was being zombie-like enough.

He wished the food slot was lower, and larger, so that he could back her up to it and taste her again. Shit. Well, maybe in a few more days, if this seemed to still be working, he could go in the cage and taste and touch her, while she was malleable. That was his ultimate goal. Well, that was part of his goal, his ultimate goal was her complete subservience, and her love. He actually wanted her to be in love with him. He didn’t know it, but that would take more hypnotizing that even Houdini could have come up with.

She was feeling dizzy again. She wondered how long she’d have to stand there, ass in the air, letting him play with her asshole. It did feel kinda good ... she stopped that thought, when she realized what she was thinking. Goddammit, she thought, he’s winning when you think stuff like that. Don’t.

After a few minutes of caressing her asshole, he finally decided that he’d done enough for one day. He’d proved his point, to both himself, and her. Although he didn’t expect her to remember. He hoped she didn’t, at least. That will be a good test of my hypnotic powers, he thought.

“Stormi. Stand up. Turn halfway around.” She did, gratefully, but hiding it with the dumb slack expression on her face. She stared straight ahead, like she wasn’t even seeing him. He noticed that, it was like she seemed to be staring right through him.

“Stormi. When I snap my fingers, you will snap out of this hypnotic trance. You will remember nothing that happened while you were in it. And you will get a warm, fuzzy feeling when you see me, or think of me.”

That last part he just made up on the spot. It couldn’t hurt, he thought. He carefully raised his hand to her face, snapped his fingers loudly. She shook her head, and said, “what?”

“What, darling?” He said.

“Don’t call me darling.” She said. “What was I saying?”

“You said thanks for the TV.”

“Yes, Thanks for the TV, Mr. Grody. You may go now.”

He laughed at that last little command. It was time for him to go back upstairs and get some sleep, anyway. He looked forward to trying this again tomorrow. He had never had any idea he was so good at it.


She watched him leave with relief. The old pervert. She was sure he’d really gotten his rocks off pawing around on her ass. She knew he was sniffing his fingers, she could hear his indrawn breath when he did it. On impulse, she ran her index finger down the crack of her ass, and stabbed it into her asshole slightly. She brought it to her nose, and sniffed. Ugh, it was strong. It smelled like shit to her. Shit, and sweat, and just a little bit of pussy. Actually, she thought, it smelled sexy, not really nasty. Stop it, she told herself. You are falling into his trap when you do that. After all you did for him tonight, don’t start thinking like him, too.

She turned eagerly to the TV. She pulled the chair over to the table, and sat right in front of it. She located the controls, on the side of it, and turned it on. It came right on. Sweet. She looked at the controls, and realized that the channel changing buttons were covered with something hard. Something that looked like dried superglue or something. Well, shit. She watched it for a moment. Oh, jeezus, it was public television. This was almost worse than no television. She tried to change the channel, but it was impossible. And she’d seen Mr. Grody put the remote in his pocket. She almost cried.

She finally forgot about the TV, and turned her attention to the basin of soapy water he’d left. She washed herself, slowly, loving the feel of the water on her naked body. It felt good to feel clean again, well, relatively clean, it’s not like she soaked in the tub or anything. She scrubbed her bottom, and her pussy, and under her arms. Shit. She’d forgotten to do her face first. She finally sighed, and washed her face with bottom water. What the hell. She’d remember that next time. She wanted badly to do her hair, but there wasn’t that much water by now.

The next time he came down, with dinner or lunch or whatever, she was very nice to him. She remembered his hypnotic directive to be warm and fuzzy or something, and she tried to act that out a little. But mostly she just wanted the remote.

“Mr. Grody ... you forget the remote, to the TV,” she finally said, after she accepted the meal through the slot.

“I did not forget it. You must earn it.”

“Mr. Grody! That’s not fair. I did earn it! I let you...” Shit. She was going to say “paw all over my ass” but she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to remember that stuff. She lamely finished, “hypnotize me, remember?”

“Yes, you did. Okay, tell you what. I’ll give you the remote for ... five hours. But you must give it back when I ask, or I’ll unplug the TV. Okay?”

“Deal,” she said, and reached through the slot for the remote. He had to go back upstairs and get it, but she finally held it in her hands. Hah hah, she thought. At last.

She spent the rest of the day in mindless oblivion, watching the boob tube. Everything seemed so fresh and new and fascinating to her. Amazing, she thought, how a little time off makes everything new again.


Her day and night cycle was totally screwed. Her phone had finally run down, and she didn’t even have that, now. The only real delineation of her days came when he fed her breakfast, she knew by that that it was morning, or close. Well, and the TV. Sometimes she saw news channels that told the time. She had kind of stopped caring, actually. She slept when she was sleepy. The only thing she really did was on his cycle was eat. Oh, and be hypnotized.

The hypnotisms were instantly a daily thing, now that he realized what he could do with her. She was wondering by now if he was really actually hypnotizing her, the way that she was letting him do stuff to her. But she was aware the whole time, she was just trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Surely not, she thought. The routine was pretty much the same, each day, sometimes twice a day. He ‘hypnotized’ her, and pawed around her ass, backing her up to the food slot. He had tried to get access to her pussy, but he finally had to settle for that through her legs, from the rear. He had stuck his finger into her pussy several times, somewhat painfully, since she was still a virgin. It was all she could do to keep quiet and still when he did that. She felt like she was getting very good at the hypnotized act. She let him do things that there is no way she ever would have let anyone do, a month ago. And she didn’t bat an eye.

He was unbelievably happy at the turn things had taken. The hypnotizing thing had worked out better that he’d ever dreamed. She was putty in his hands. He touched and rubbed and sniffed her to his heart’s content. He got further and further into it. He hoped at some point to get her out of the cage, and maybe even fuck her. That was his eventual goal. Sexual relations with a compliant female. He’d never had that before, weirdly. He’d had to fight them every time. He had high hopes for this one, the way things were going.

The next day, during the hypnotic session, he unzipped his pants and drew his dick out. Stormi was bent over, as she usually was, backed up to the food slot, her ass fairly well framed by it. Oh, she thought, looking up at him through her legs, that is interesting ... she’d never seen an adult cock before. It gave her a moment’s pause. It was a while, even, before she was outraged. She just stared at his long hard cock, thinking, wow, so that’s what they look like. Two round things were also hanging out of his pants. Those are his balls, she told herself. His cock was rock hard, weaving slightly as he moved around, bouncing and bobbing up and down. It looked so silly she almost laughed, but then she thought, shit, what if he tries to stick it in me, through the slot? She knew that there was no way he could reach her pussy that way, but she feared for her poor little asshole. She knew, though, all she’d have to do was step out of his reach. She didn’t want to give up the hypnotism charade, though, she felt like he was really believing that she was his slave. After everything she’d let him do so far, she wanted it to amount to something.

He didn’t threaten her asshole, at least. He just stroked himself, and played with his dick while he rubbed and sniffed her. He finally pointed his dick off to the side, and she heard him grunting as he ejaculated. She was trying to look uninterested, but out of the corner of her eye she say a spray of stuff shoot from his dick, and fairly quickly she could smell the smell of fresh sperm on the ground. That interested her, also. She’d never smelled that before. That’s the stuff that makes babies, she told herself. That’s his cum.

He cleaned himself up, and stuffed his dick back in his pants. He released her from her “trance”, and left. The rest of the afternoon, when she went to the front of the cage she could smell his semen on the floor. It finally dried up. She was surprised at how much of it there had been. He must have been saving it up a long time, she thought. Then again, she had no idea how much usually came out when a guy ... shot his wad or whatever.


Mr. Grody had never taken the remote away, in spite of saying he would. At least her days passed a little easier. And now, thanks to the news channels, she knew what time it was. When she cared, at least. And once when she watched the local evening news she saw a mention of herself. The news man said that a local runaway, Stormi Sincere, whom the whole town had been looking for was reported to have been seen two hundred miles away in Chicago. She just stood there with tears in her eyes. They aren’t looking for me any more, she thought. It’s over. I belong to him, now. It’s up to me totally if I want out.

The next day the hypnotizing routine was a little different. He didn’t touch her, or pull his dick out, like he usually did. He spent the whole time telling her that she was going to be nice and quiet and well behaved, when she came out of the trance. He finally had her turn, and stick her hands up to the food slot. She could feel him placing the handcuffs on her hands.

He had her turn back, and then he released her from the trance.

“Hey,” she said, acting surprised, staring at the handcuffs. “how’d you do that?”

He just laughed.

“Stormi,” he said, “I am taking you upstairs, to wash your hair in the bathtub. You must behave, or we will never do it again. And, I will have the taser ready at all times.”

“Okay,” she said, her mind racing at the possibilities. The possibilities weren’t that many, not with her hands being handcuffed in front of her. Shit. Well, she thought, maybe I’ll just play along this time, and he’ll be fooled, even more.

He unlocked the two padlocks on the cage, and opened the door. He stood at the door, blocking it, and motioned her to come to him. She did, slowly, remembering that she supposed to be well behaved. She really wanted to fool him good, to make him think his hypnotizing worked miraculous things with her.

He showed her the taser in his hand, and then motioned her to the door. She crouched, and preceded him, but of course the cellar door was shut. This time, he left the door open and the tank pushed back. He led her upstairs, up the inner staircase, and they came out in the kitchen. He pointed the way, and soon they were in the bathroom. He shut the door. She had looked at all the windows, but all the windows had burglar bars on them. She thought if her hands weren’t cuffed, she would take a running leap out a window, busting out the glass, and run for it. But, that couldn’t happen. The bathroom had a small high window, but it was barred, too.

Once in the bathroom he instructed her to turn, and he uncuffed her. Her mind raced for what she could do, but nothing seemed to have a chance of success. Maybe she’d just settle for a bath. She was already naked, so she just went ahead and got in the high, old-fashioned tub. She turned to him, and was disgusted to see him photographing her with his phone. She realized he was taking a video. She flipped him off, slow and seriously.

“Mr. Grody. Don’t be such a perv,” she finally said, and turned on the water. She inspected his shampoo choices. He did not have any of her favorites. She dunked her head, and began washing.

Thirty minutes later, she was done. She’d even shaved her legs with a disposable razor he gave her. She felt fresh and clean, and alive. She felt like she was ready to face him, now. Ready to take him on.

She was out of the tub, and dried off. He was still filming her. Damn, he must have a major memory card in that damn thing, she thought. She sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for whatever was next. She wasn’t going to rush him.

“Mr. Grody. Do you have a fresh toothbrush?” she asked, and he pawed through a drawer, his back turned. She wished she knew karate or something. He turned, and gave her a toothbrush, still in the package. Good. She opened it, and brushed her teeth.

“Can I take this back?” she asked, holding up one of several tubes of toothpaste. He nodded. She put it on the counter, along with the brush.

“Hands,” he said, and she presented her hands to be cuffed, and then picked up her brush and the toothpaste. He led her back down the stairs, and she preceded him through the secret door. She went ahead and went right in the cage. No use making a fuss at this point.

He locked her in, and stood and regarded her.

“Thank you, Stormi,” he said, “you were very good. I will remember this.”

She nodded, shooting mental fire at him. God, she hoped all this behaving well would be worth it at some point.


Later that evening, he “hypnotized” her again. He was really hooked on this shit, now. He knew that hypnotism wasn’t perfect, he knew that she could come out of the trance early, or that her conscious mind could break through at some things she might be asked to do. But it was working so well. She was fooling him completely, actually.

This time, he said, “Stormi. Pull the chair to the food slot.” She did, and he told her to sit, which she also did.

“Stormi. Spread your legs wide, to the sides of the chair.” She did, thinking, perv, you old perv.

“Stormi. Touch yourself. Play with yourself.” Shit, she thought. This has almost gone too far. Sure, she’d played with herself before. Who hasn’t, by her age? She’d even done it a few times since she’d been imprisoned here, just for the brief pleasure it gave her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do something so intimate in front of him. But, this was the path she’d chosen. Maybe she could just make it difficult enough that he would give up.

She reached down, like a robot, and spread her pussy lips apart. He literally licked his lips, leaning down, and staring through the plexiglass at her beautiful cunt, spread wide for his viewing pleasure. She put her finger right on top of her clit, and then just sat there, not moving.

 
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